#I also pick up speaking quirks subconsciously and switch how I talk all the time

[yb-five]

I often forget my horrible pseudo-British accent is probably really annoying for actual British people

[gojology]

Strawberry Flavored Pocky.

pairing : teen! gojo x gender neutral reader warnings : the big three: unedited, most likely badly written, and some cursing. also there’s like.. graphic imagery that gojo and reader exchange to eachother. it’s just banter though! wordcount : 2273 a/n : for that one anon that wanted teen gojo. my stroke of genius always occurs when im eating strawberry flavored pocky i swear.. anyways yeah this is unfiltered writing n it’s probably like not the best tbh and maybe i didn’t nail teen gojo’s personality but u know what this was so fun to write

     The sound of the tear of the wrapper containing the Pocky you had just bought was music to your ears, crinkling with every touch. Your fingers are itching to grab for the deliciously coated sticks, but you’re stopped by someone none other than Gojo Satoru himself.       “What’d you get?” he inquired, seemingly unbothered by the face you were making, he hadn’t even greeted you with a simple, “Hello.” he sat down on the bench seat right next to you, uninvited.       In his hand were many bags of various sweet treats, you could only make out some familiar ones- ramune flavored gummies, a bag of chips, vibrantly colored candy. Your lips quirk downwards, exhaling, turning to face the setting sun.       “Just some Pocky.” you flatly respond, beginning to pick the biscuit up. Contrary to Gojo’s wide choice of snacks, you only really had one favorite- Pocky. Specifically, Strawberry flavored Pocky. The sweet, yet somewhat tart aftertaste treat dominated your mind almost day and night. It wasn’t everyday that Yaga would be lenient enough to take the four of you to the local convenience store. You were waiting for Shoko and Geto to finish shopping to finally head home for a night of yummy snacking.       Gojo sighs, lazily dropping the treats right next to his side, they sat idly, limply resting on his thigh as he crossed his right leg over his left knee. His hands warmly nestled into his snowy white hair, his elbows jutting into your personal bubble.        “Not one to chat, are you? What’s the problem? You scared?” his tone is teasing, and you jerk your head to face his. Your head is tilted, like your confused, but in reality you’re just astounded how obnoxious he was.       “Why in the world would I be scared of you? You wouldn’t lay a finger on me. Yaga-Senpai would rip your limbs off one by one and fling you into the horizon! And he’s not even that far away, I could report you to him if you even get on my nerves in the slightest.” you shot back, huffing and taking your first bite on the biscuit. You instantly melt.       He flashes you a toothy smile, and you stiffen, did he ever take anything seriously? “Oh my, so riled up. Only scaredy-cats would talk about how not scared they were. Look, you’re even shaking-” he gestures to your just slightly shaking, tightened grip on your Pocky. “-I win, Y/N! Boo hoo, case closed, gimme your Pocky~”        “No, fuck you and your fat ass trying to take my Pocky, I’m not shaking from fear anyways.” you sternly retort, warmth rushing to your cheeks for whatever reason. “I’m shaking because I’m resisting the urge to duct tape your mouth shut and gouge your eyeballs out.”       He chuckles warmly as if your gruesome detailing was humorous, he probably didn’t know you meant it. He too, ripped open one of his snacks. “Calm down, Y/N. I was joking, I could buy Pocky’s whole stock and probably also buy my position up as CEO if I wanted to. I wouldn’t leech off of you, sugar.” readjusting his crooked, circular shades, he looked down at your now slack grip on the wrapper.      Unanswering, you’re grumbling instead. Under your breath, you’re curious as to how Gojo hasn’t realized how obnoxious he was, and how much longer could he survive without his head exploding from how big it was from his inflated ego?      Gojo grinned. He was all too aware of those things, but who really cared?      “Not unless you let your guard down!-” unable to finish the rest of his sentence, he yanked up the wrapper from your hands, using the extent of his long arm to dangle it high above your head. Your reflexes are far too slow to react, causing you to glare at him in a mixture of shock, hatred, and disbelief.      “Give-” you jump, arm reaching towards your snack, but he backs off, snickering and still dangling it above your head. “It-” now you’ve leapt up on the bench, grabbing at the wrapper to no avail. “Back!-” whimpering and flailing your arms out, every time you came close to retrieving your rightfully owned pack of Pocky, he’d simply throw it to his other hand so carelessly it pissed you off. All the while giggling, juggling it like a clown.      A breath of laughter escapes his lips as he looks at you, prancing around like a circus act on the bench, yelling curses and many death-wishes to his clan. Your eyebrows are knitted together, and he can’t just help but realize how adorable you were when concentrated in getting something- so stubborn.    “Okay, okay!” and as if Gojo had flipped a switch, you simmer down, looking at him with an impatient side-eye. “You want it, doggie?”     “Refer to me as doggie, and I’ll send a pack of strays to ravage you.”       Gojo exhaled out of his nose. “You’re a funny one, doggie.” did he just dismiss the conversation you two were having literally 2 seconds prior? “I’ll ask this again, do you want to get your treats back?” his eyes are glinting with amusement and child-like glee. You were almost sure that he had started calling your beloved Pocky as treats because of just how well it suited the nickname Doggie. It looked like you would be getting no where unless you paid no mind to him calling you such a.. Derogatory name.       Grumbling and studying the concrete you were currently trampling on, you exasperatedly sigh.       “Yes. I do want my Pocky back.” you grunt, averting your gaze to anywhere but Gojo’s shoes.       He perks up in approval, drawing out a long, “Hmmm?” as if he hadn’t expected you to give up so easily. “What are the magic words, Y/N?”       This was so humiliating.       “Please?” you politely say through gritted teeth. If it weren’t for the general public bustling about, you would’ve lunged for his unruly hair and tear it out of his scalp.       “Hah! You think I’m gonna do that sorta bullshit?” he crosses his arms, Pocky tucked safely under his arm. You wince, thinking about how the biscuits may potentially be snapped in half. Did you really want your snack still? It probably smelled like Gojo’s armpit sweat, death, and all the bad things in the world combined. “You’re gonna have to earn it, Y/N, in a game.”       Now convinced that Gojo was the manifestation of all the bad karma that you had avoided, you stare at him with wide eyes and fear, the irritation long gone. Games, no, scratch that, literally anything with Gojo only resulted in a small, or maybe large piece of your sanity torn away from you, lost to the infinite dark abyss. Maybe that’s why Geto seemed to slowly go insane everyday.       “On second thought, I’ll just go-”      He cuts you off, alarm now displayed on full view, his face contorting back to neutral. “Wait, no! It won’t be hard. Pinkie promise.” extending a pinkie towards you, you gently slap it away. The mood change was so instant, you were still shocked, that, and he was almost a legal adult and still believed in pinkie promises.      Still hesitant, you quirk an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’d rather spend another two dollars than play whatever game your planning, unless you tell me about it.”      “That’s a given, besides, it won’t take too long, Y/N. I think you’ll like it.” he replies cheerfully, leaning and whisper-yelling into your ear, fruitfully jolting you up. Seriously, did he have any idea what personal space was?      After just a few seconds of thinking, you roll your eyes in defeat. “Okay, what’s this game?”      His incredibly long fingers inserted themselves inside the crinkling wrapper, pulling out a slender stick. You’re almost sure your salivating, and subconsciously swallow the lump at the back of your throat. “Okay, rules of this game are... Hm, we both place our mouths at both ends of the stick. You get the pretzel part because that part sucks.” mischief flickers in his eyes briefly. “Whoever can get down the Pocky longest without being afraid of kissing and pulling back, loses and doesn’t get the Pocky. Whoever stays in their place wins. I’ll throw in some money, deal or no deal?”       “This doesn’t sound.. Fun.” you were still skeptical, but curiosity was blossoming rapidly inside of you. Could you really resist such an intriguing request? The guy was rich, and he did say he’d throw in some money. Gojo probably hated the thought of you, too. You could probably get up and close, get him to cower away from the thought of locking lips with you, and you’d be on your merry way.       “Um, actually, never mind. Let’s do this.” you chirp, the weariness had depleted completely. Besides, Gojo would pester you into doing it anyways, this would effectively save time. The expression on his face was indecipherable, silently wishing to yourself to see his eyes. You wonder if they’re wide open, in shock of your acceptance.       He gently placed the biscuit between your lips, his thumb brushing against it. Your breath hitches, now he’s up close. The shades adorning his handsome features, concealing those vivid blue eyes of his made your heart pace quicken in just seconds, maybe it was because he could see you- and you couldn’t. Your gaze shifts to the tufts of white hair hanging above his forehead. His bangs look lusciously soft, so soft you wonder what it’d be like to ruffle his unruly hair, what did it smell like? What conditioner did he use?     Your cheeks darken, but you hope he doesn’t notice it. This was what people thought of when they saw pretty people up close, it wasn’t like you had a thing for him, he was just attractive, that’s all.      “You look real stupid holding that stick between your teeth and looking at me.” he comments, charmingly smirking as you give him another death glare, unable to speak in fear of dropping the Pocky stick. You could count each individual hair strand he had on top of his head with the amount of time he was taking.      Chomp.     You take the first bite, and you can’t help but realize how much your heart is fluttering about in your chest. Eyelashes fluttering, nerves getting jittery, the exchange was strangely intimate. No kidding, of course it was- if the two of you were adamant and continued to chomp on the stick, it would only end in a kiss. There was no way around it.      He takes a bite too, his lips look curved in a dopey smile, but there’s not a single word traded between the two of you, just tiny, slight nibbles. It would be eons until someone finished, and you were growing impatient by the minute. Quicken the pace. Quicken the fucking pace.     So you did the unthinkable, you quickened the pace.     Taking a large bite, he pauses for a minute- as if to think, before taking an even larger bite. Now, 2/3′s of the original stick is gone. One more large bite, and a kiss would follow suit. Now, you’re sweating bullets, eyes bouncing from him, back down to the microscopic sized Pocky. His lips are so, so close. Soft, plush pink, so glossy you’re inclined to ask what brand of lip gloss he uses. You can hear his breathing grow heavier, why wasn’t he giving up?      The two of you don’t take a single bite, plainly avoiding the objective, the world around you had evaporated into thin air. It’s you, and Gojo Satoru.      You nibbled a little bit more, and then you make up your mind. You’re going to kiss-       Growing chatter grew closer to closer, and you realize Shoko’s monotone and Geto’s lively voice, alongside a very disgruntled Yaga.       “Yeah, she’s pretty hot. I actually liked the movie- Uh...?” the steady rhythm stopped against the concrete. Immediately, you straighten and clear your throat, spitting out the Pocky stick into the nearby grass. Gojo follows suit, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and twirling around. “Oh hey, Geto!-”       “Are we interrupting something? Something.. Important?” Shoko quizzes, struggling to stifle her giggling. A sheepish smile was displayed widely on your face for the world to see, hands behind your back like you were hiding something. Gojo, on the other hand, is facing the other direction, whistling and staring at the now setting sky.       You stutter, cheeks growing even darker. Yaga looks as disgruntled as ever, facepalming and murmuring to himself. Geto looks ecstatic.        “MY MAN!” he beams. “WERE YOU GOING TO-”       “SHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Shoko shushes him in response, turning her head back to the two of you. You looked like you had just seen a ghost. “We thought you hated Gojo, we’re just...” her head is cocked slightly, an understanding expression on her features. “Just surprised, is all.”       Spluttering, you try to explain yourself- but no sound comes out. Your mouth is opening and closing, struggling to find the words.       “I do hate him... I just... He.. Pocky.. He uh...”       “Sheeeeeeeesh! Poor Y/N over here is going through some shock right now!” Gojo muses aloud, he places an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in under his arm. There’s a small, coy grin on his lips. As if he didn’t try kissing you 1 minute ago. “Just ignore them, anyways, what are we having for dinner tonight? I heard there’s a really good KBBQ place down the street that just opened..”      As much as you hate Gojo, his ability to escape anything did come in handy.    Well, maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you were leading on.     You’d go as far as to say.. Maybe you enjoyed some parts of him.      

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part II/VII)

"candy floss"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, feels, brief mention of Fred x Reader ig?

A/N: I decided to name the parts bc why the fuck not so keep an eye on the titles 👀. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue :the aftermath

Part I : sleepless nights

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The moment the last group of customers decided it was time to call it a day and exited the shop, I left the till counter and grabbed my wand from my pocket, instantly turning the sign in the door so it could be read from outside 'closed'.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the multicolored wooden rail.

I was drained.

The shop helped our minds to get distracted and stray from the grief, yes, but it was also exhausting.

We had been subconsciously overworking ourselves to the point where it was borderline self-destructive.

It didn't help that I was throwing myself into comforting George, either. I could not be blamed for doing that, though; he was broken.

A part of me, the rational one, knew he would pick up the pieces and build himself up again, it would just take a lot of time.

There was another part of me, though, that depressed, drained part, that was beginning to think he would never heal by himself —maybe he wouldn't heal at all— but still held onto the hope that, if I tried hard enough, I would be able to mend what had been broken in him.

A terrible idea, really, because I started to dismiss in its entirety my own miserable, damaged state.

And George, ever the caring, sensible one, would have noticed that; he would have made me realize I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, he would have talked some sense into me, but he wouldn't— he couldn't, because George was lost in an ocean of grief, trying so hard not to drown that he wasn't able to notice I was trying to aid him from my very own sinking boat.

It also seemed to be working; he was more animated, slept more soundly, and his smile was a bit brighter even —at least the one he had for me.

"Rough day?" My eyes, which I didn't know I had closed, fluttered open at George's voice.

"Very."

He walked to me with a tinge of guilt in his face. "You know we can switch places, right?" I had been working as the public face of the shop since we had reopened, and George had taken on the task of doing the paperwork and shippings instead, showing up from time to time to help me and to let people know there was still a Weasley running the business.

I had been the one to suggest this, since I knew George had compromised with reopening only because of me, and he was clearly not ready to put up a sociable, positive attitude for dozens of people every day.

"Nah, it's fine like this." I assured him with a reassuring smile.

He measured me with his eyes for a second; I couldn't really tell if he saw through me or not. "So I was preparing the today's shippings," he rocked a tiny purple basket I quickly recognised in front of me. "I found this in the back of the stockroom."

"Are those—?"

"Candy floss cupcakes, yes." A year and a half ago we had bought five baskets of candy floss cupcakes from Honeydukes per George's request in order to unsuccessfully try and implement them.

"Are they even edible anymore?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I hope so?" He chuckled too, tearing the film covering the sweets. "Thought we might as well finish them."

My eyes travelled from the basket to him and viceversa before stating, "well I'm hungry so..."

"Same here." He was the first one to pull out a pastel colored cupcake, though he handed it to me. "Wanna get food poisoning together?" Laughing, I gave him a nod as he grabbed his own cupcake. "At the count of three?"

"One"

"Two"

"Three." We said in unison right before taking a bite of our respective madeleines.

I frowned at its surprisingly good flavour. "Am I delirious or are they actually edible?"

"Dunno," he shoved the rest of his cupcake into his mouth with a shrug. "maybe we're just starving."

"Go big or go home, I guess." I finished my cupcake before leaning on the basket to pick another one. My head snapped up with my brow quirked when I heard a soft chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing." George shook his head, motioning at the stairs. "Shall we sit down?" I followed his lead, sitting on the stairs and waiting for him, who had stepped towards the drinks aisle to grab a couple of juice bottles, to do the same.

We stayed there, eating and drinking in a comfortable silence until the basket was empty and our eyelids threatened to shut.

"I think we should head back to the flat." He spoke, leaving the half empty juice aside so he could stretch.

"I'm gonna learn how to cook." I stated, getting up. "We can't get by based on most likely expired sweets and whatever is in the Leaky Cauldron menu."

"Aight." He mimicked my actions, picking up the stuff we left on the stairs. "We will learn the basics tomorrow." He got behind me and began to gently push in the flat's direction. "But now we're gonna get some sleep, miss."

I would be lying if I said my heartbeat didn't pick up when his hands landed on my shoulder blades and made their way to rub both my arms reassuringly.

I would be lying if I denied I leaned back when he did that, letting myself get closer to his chest.

And I would definitely be lying if I said I didn't crave going back to my room so I could cuddle him all night.

One Week Later

"—right in the cauldron, love." I pointed at the cauldron besides me, giving a sweet smile to the kid in front of me, visibly going to be sick thanks to the free sample of Skiving Snackboxes.

"Y/n!" I spun around at the loud calling of my name above the shop's racket. I was able to discern a long, red mane flowing fast towards my position right on time for the owner to wrap her arms around me.

"Glad to see you too, Ginny." I laughed, trying not to lose balance due to her enthusiasm. "How come you're here?" I questioned, pulling away.

"We heard you were open." Harry walked up to me, appearing from behind the girl, "And thought we'd pay a visit to our friends, right?" Ginny nodded, looking around while Harry gave me a quick, yet comforting hug. "Where's George?"

I motioned up to the small office, redirecting the couple's eyes to the second floor. "Doing paperwork—AH!" I jolted when a pair of hands tickled my sides, my head snapping to see the towering ginger standing behind me. "Speaking of the devil."

"I thought I saw Gin through the window," George explained, his hands lingering on my waist for long enough to his sister to stare, before pulling Ginny into a tight hug. "And came down to check if she was distracting my employee."

"You got her all bored here, mate." Harry pointed out, a light joking tone in his voice.

"And you're the one supposed to help with that?" George rolled his eyes dramatically. "Pfft... What a world we live in." With the said, he gave the boy a side hug. I heard Harry murmur an 'We missed you' before they pulled away with a pat on the shoulder.

My gaze landed on the youngest Weasley, whose welled up eyes were trained on her older brother's half smile. I only averted my eyes and waited for her to discreetly wipe away the unspilled tears while Harry and George catched up.

By the letters she had sent me, I reckoned the last time she had been near George, he had been lifeless; seeing a glimpse of who was once one of the most cheerful, funny and charismatic people in her life, was probably poignant to Ginny.

I hadn't realized she had moved closer until I didn't hear her soft voice. "Thank you." I offered her a confused smile, though deep down I knew what she meant.

Two Days Later

George was having one of those days.

We both knew it was coming soon; it had to happen sooner rather than later, since he had been in a surprisingly good mood for almost a week. I suspected seeing Harry and Ginny had brought back the events of the Second of May.

I suggested to close the shop for the day, since he was unable to move out of bed; he refused to do so, but I convinced him to stay in the flat and rest —it was Tuesday, anyway; I wouldn't have to handle many customers.

Due to that, when I saw Hermione, Ron, Bill and Fleur entered the shop, it was understandable that I hadn't become the happiest person in the world.

I greeted them, there were hugs, kisses, and even a joke or two, and when Bill asked about George, I excused him without giving much detail.

They understood.

Fleur was the one to restart the conversation, lightening a bit before requesting a tour for the shop, since she had not yet been there.

It was when we reached the love potions that Hermione, using the fact that Fleur was very much interested in the product, held my hand and pulled me aside.

"So... how are you doing?" The frown in her face, the fact that she was whispering, the squeeze her hand gave mine, let me know she had read me the moment her eyes met mines.

I sighed with a shrug.

"You can tell me." Could I? "No one's asking you to put on a happy face, Y/n." The girl assured me, her eyes digging into mines. "It's not just George, we all lost—" she shook her head at her own words before correcting herself. "you lost him too."

I lost him too.

I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering.

The memory of Fred's broken smile as his corpse laid on the stretcher, that memory that haunted my dreams, appeared vividly before my eyes.

My lips started to burn with the ghost of that kiss he gave me before we split up, him with Percy and me with George; it hadn't been meant to be a goodbye kiss. It was meant to be a good luck kiss.

I covered my mouth to muffle a sob, and Hermione's arms were quick to be wrapped around me, reassuringly rubbing my back.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I saw them entering from Y/n's balcony; I wasn't emotionally ready to face them all at the same time, but when I didn't see them exit, I figured Y/n hadn't been able to dismiss them.

I decided I owed to them all to bite the bullet, so I threw on a shirt and the first trousers I grabbed, cleaned up a bit and left the flat.

With a deep breath, I made it to the second floor and mentally prepared myself to go down to the first one.

As I began to climb down, though, I noticed Hermione and Y/n talking in private, closer than the others to the stairs.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but all my senses were automatically focused on Y/n whenever we were in the same room; she just stole me away from reality.

"You lost him too."

Hermione's words visibly triggered something on Y/n.

'Something', as if I didn't know what they had triggered, as if I didn't know what— who was on her mind.

I guess he was always on her mind, though.

What was left of my heart shattered in a million pieces when she broke down to tears —for several reasons—. "I miss him." She whispered in Hermione's shoulder. "I miss him so much."

If I had any tears left, I would have cried my eyes out right there. Had I been so selfish that I had disregarded how she was feeling? So blinded by the light and love and warmth she was constantly giving me that I had forgotten about her grief? Was I that bad of a person, that I would have rather live in the illusion that she had not lost the boy she was dating?

My mind told me I didn't want any of those questions answered.

"George!" As Ron yelled my name in surprise, Hermione and Y/n pulled away, the latter rubbing her eyes while both of my brothers jogged upstairs to hug me. "Ginny told us you're open—"

"But Y/n said you weren't feeling well." Bill finished, squeezing my shoulder. "We only stayed a little longer for Fleur to see the shop."

"Yeah, we'll come back tomorrow," Ron assured me. "So you can rest and..."

My brother's voice sounded further and further with each word; I felt myself drifting off, getting lost in my own mind and gravitating towards the same thought over and over.

She deserves better.

[clonecaptains]

Hopper + 12

/12 - kiss on the nose // M for some smut, fluff | 1.7k+/// my masterlist //// requests are open!

You have no idea what time it is, you can’t get up the energy to move to check. But you know he’ll be home soon, and you don’t have supper ready. You have a headache, and as soon as you got home, you climbed in bed. All the lights are off, and you had a hot rag on your forehead. It was hot but it’s quickly cooling, but again, you don’t want to get up to warm it back up.

Normally, you don’t sleep on your back, but you are currently laying on your back because it’s the only position that’s seemed to relieve your headache.

You feel bad about not having dinner ready, not only for him - but for yourself. Your stomach is rumbling, and you know food would help your head. You think to call him to have him pick up something, but it’s too late.

The door opens and closes with a solid slam. Hop sometimes slams the door too hard on accident, especially if he’s in a good mood. That makes you smile to yourself for a moment, he’s happy.

“Baby?” he calls out to you. Usually you’re there to greet him with a hug and a kiss. He’s accustomed to seeing you busy in the kitchen or watching something on tv waiting for him to get home.

“In here,” you call with a groan. You hear his boots thump and his keys jingle on his belt. “Don’t turn on the light!” you yelp quickly in warning as his hand reaches for the bedroom light switch.

“Baby, you alright?” he asks and sits down on the bed next to you. His weight shifts you slightly. You can smell him, faded cologne from this morning, coffee also from this morning and probably this afternoon, and maybe a fresh cigarette. You want to kiss him so bad it hurts, but that pain pulsing in your head keeps you from it.

“I’ve got a killer headache,” you moan. “I’m sorry I didn’t make dinner, I needed to lay down.” The rag is still over your eyes, so you can’t see him lean down. But you can feel the weight shift, and smell him come closer, and his heat nears you. His whiskers tickle your cheek first before a soft kiss lands on your skin. His lips brush against your nose, and then plants a tender kiss on your lips. His warm hand rests above the wet rag on your head, and you sigh at the warmth. It’s warmer than the rag now.

“I’ll order a pizza yeah? And let me get you a new rag. Have you taken meds?” He stands and gently lifts the rag from your brow. You hear him enter the bathroom, and run water in the sink.

“I did as soon as I got home.” Your voice is quiet, but he can hear you over the sink. He’s quick to wet the rag and ring out the excess water.

“Good girl,” he tells you, and kisses the bridge of your nose and your eyelid before placing the now hot rag on your brow. His gentle praise sends a zing of arousal to your core and subconsciously you squeeze your thighs together.

You can’t see him, but he definitely saw your action. He quirks a brow and smiles to himself. Maybe a distraction is what you need.

He sits on the bed again, and takes off his boots. He talks quietly about his day as he changes clothes. You can’t tell what he’s changing into, but you hear his shirt drawer open. He’s putting on a t-shirt and some faded jeans.

He’s in a good mood because for once the day wasn’t as stressful as he thought it would be - and he actually arrested someone he’s been looking for.

Hop disappears for a moment, and you hear him in the next room ordering a pizza. He clicks on the tv, but turns the volume on low. The he comes back into the bedroom.

“I’m sorry again about dinner,” you mumble to him as he sits back down on the bed next to you.

“Sweetheart, nothing is ruined. Pizza will be here in twenty minutes. Which gives me plenty of time.”

Your head hurts too much to think, “Time for what?”

If only you could see the grin he has on his face when he throws the covers back. Heat rushes to your cheeks and between your legs. You have no idea what he’s doing, but you wanna see (or feel rather) how this is going to play out.

Well, maybe you have a slight idea, but still you’re not 100% sure.

You smile, and jerk when you feel his warm hand rest on your bare thigh.

As soon as you got home all you did was throw off your pants and climb into bed, leaving you still in your shirt from work and your underwear.

Not speaking, Hop leans down and presses a kiss to your neck. His beard scrapes, it tickles. He hums as he kisses your shoulder over your shirt. He kisses your chest and stomach, even through your shirt his beard tickles.

When he reaches your panties, he touches your center and hums loudly when he feels that you’re already damp.

“What’s this baby? You already hot for me?” he teases, his voice low.

“Hopper, shut it,” is your weak reply. You’re smiling, and he laughs at your attempt to cover your shyness in the moment.

Experienced hands tug down your panties and his hands are gentle on your legs as he spreads them for him. He positions himself between your spread legs, he’s sitting upright on the bed, and adjusts your legs to rest on his knees.

A finger touches your entrance, simply touching your skin lightly and collecting your juices on his finger. You hiss at the touch, and arch you back.

“Baby, relax. Don’t tense up, it’ll hurt your head even more. Relax baby, I got you,” he murmurs. His voice only brings more arousal and you try to squeeze your thighs again to relieve pressure, but you can’t because he’s in between.

“Tsk tsk, baby,” he almost growls. “Relax,” he says again as he eases a finger inside. You cry out, and your legs tremble. He’s barely done anything and you’re already feeling a tight feeling in your core. He slides another in to join the other, and you shudder in pleasure. You gasp sharply when his thumb touches your clit and begins to rub in slow strokes.

While he rubs, he curves his fingers inside. All of his actions are slow and precise. Nothing fast, nothing sloppy.

Then he begins to talk, his voice only adding to the sensation.

“You’re doing so good baby, that’s it. That’s my good girl. Relax.”

He knows how to get you off quickly if he wants, but he wants to take his time with this. To distract and relax you.

His free hand works slides under your shirt, and pushes your bra aside as best he can to cup at your breast. That earns him another sharp cry from you. He’s so pleased with himself, he continues the slow movements.

“Hop,” you whine, and he can tell your brows are creased, you’re trying to reach that high.

“Baby I said don’t tense up,” his strokes slow and you whine. He slips his hand from your shirt and starts to massage at your temples. “Relax, trust me. I’ll get ya there. Let your body relax.”

You nod and sigh, you shiver at the feeling. His fingers inside curl harder, his thumb moves a little faster. He applies the right amount of pressure, and the sweet release washes over you.

“That’s it,” he praises. He works you through it, until you’re done pulsing around his thick fingers. You wince at the loss when he pulls them out.

“No,” you whine when he gets up off the bed.

“I gotta answer the door babe,” he chuckles and kisses your head gently. A thrill shoots down your spine when you hear the unmistakable sound of him suck his fingers clean. He rinses his hand off quickly in the kitchen, and then you hear the knock on the door.

You can only assume he heard the car, but you couldn’t hear a thing other than the blood pounding in your ears from the delicious orgasm he’d just given you.

You barely hear the exchange over the tv, and it occurs to you that’s why he turned it on. If you were in the throes of passion when the pizza arrived, the noise would be drowned out. Your heart aches at the gesture, he didn’t want you embarrassed.

Feeling better, you sit up, and using the rag from your head, you clean yourself off, and stand on wobbly legs. You tug on your panties and walk out to the living room. He’s got the pizza on the kitchen table, and two plates out.

“Honey I was gonna bring you some!” he tells you when he sees you, your plate already in his hand.

“It’s ok, I’m feeling much better,” you smirk a little, and he does too. But then you see a little hint of pride in the form of a blush on the back of his neck. “And I wanted to see you,” you admit. You place your hand on his arm, and lean up to kiss his jaw, “Thank you,” you whisper.

“My pleasure,” he purrs and leans down to meet your lips.

“Well, actually it was mine wasn’t it?” you laugh. Your wit has returned down that your head isn’t aching.

He rolls his eyes, and kisses the top of your head. “Glad you’re feeling better baby.”

You sit and eat together, and a thought occurs to you.

“Hop, maybe sometime we can try blindfolding me again? Just not when I have a headache?”

His eyes widen a little, and he swallows heavily. “Uh yeah,” he clears his throat. Another thought occurs to you, and you realize he’s probably hard in his jeans after seeing you and pleasuring you. Maybe once your headache is fully gone, you’ll have to return the favor.

//

@billyrussosbutt, @thisgirl-knm, @bitchy-vamp, @jamesbuchancnbcrnes, @thors-soft-cheeks, @negansdirtygirl22, @jdixonchick, @justalittlepickle, @dewy-biitch, @thatbluenote, @s0rpresaputa, @crushed-pink-petals-writes, @bulletcult, @asthepheonixrises, @worldofhannahg, @curbitkirby, @ohbeewan-kenobi, @wearethebrokenones, @egertonunwin, @happy-hopper, @mcrganstarks, @missihart23, @cainanelea, @eleanor-gillespie, @amywhatsherface, @hazeleyedwinchester, @kate110199, @thatprettymvthafvcka, @littlemissthistle, @thesimsnextdoor, @gamingaquarius, @no-mom-it-is-not-about-tumblurs, @pixiehex1985, @mybulletproofheart7, @fandommaniacx, @dakki21, @disco-flight, @leyla676, @ragnarsdrapa, @pulplorrd, @daddyharbour, @imconfused28, @maciiiofficial, @andymvschietti

[n0v4hearts]

So This is Love

Ship: Snatcher/The Prince (AHIT) x SI/OC

Word Count: about 3,160 ish words, and not beta read (unless sending this to your friend at 3am to read it over is beta reading ksbdjd)

Ok, so this is majorly self indulgent, because I low-key really like masquerade balls and grand costumes and stuff, but I can't write imagery for JACK and the song "So This is Love" basically came into my heart and smashed my knees with the image of me and Snatcher dancing to this elbdj

Also! The Prince doesn't really have a name, so i just named him Luka lol

(I haven't posted anything og my self-insert, but they go by Bee and they/them pronouns, and they work as the king's mail carrier and post man. They and Luka have been close friends since childhood, and that's why they get away with so much stuff together lol)

Anyway, I need to stop rambling, I hope you like it!!! I know I do-- The actual fic is under the read more!

 ... <3

   Acorn sighed, as they fiddled at their clothes. Even though they are a mail carrier, they are a royal mail carrier and got the privilege to be invited to a masquerade ball the kingdom is holding. The heir of the kingdom – Prince Luka – practically begged for Acorn to be there, seeing as they were a close friend of his. Luka even had a tailor of his make a set of clothes for the occasion. When he gave Acorn their set of clothes (on a mail run, no less,) they almost burst into tears. Even though Acorn was a friend of the Prince's, and technically worked for the King and his Court, they were still pretty surprised that the King allowed them to join. Acorn sharply shook their head to try and stop thinking about what happened before the party, thoughts lingering on the clothes and the handsome Prince instead.

     Thankfully, Luka made the clothing he gave them lighter than what most ball dancers would wear, as well as not having many intricate ruffles or details sewn on, unlike the richer party-goers of the ball. Ladies' dresses were puffy and frilly, with hand-stitched flowers and lace put onto the dress and bodice, waists thin and masks ranging from a simple face covering with pearls and feathers to a full-on mask with lace and colorful markings with animal representatives. Men's suits were… less fun to look at, but still brought attention to them, with brighter colors and designs in the suit rather than the tones than most were used to seeing, along with their ruffles more prominent. Their masks were similar to the ladies, with most being simple masks and the most extreme one Acorn has ever seen being a peacock themed set of clothes.

       Luka, who's family was hosting the ball, had a moderately complex suit. His was centered around a mouse, trying to mimic Acorn's rabbit mask and the suit he commissioned for them. His pale white and more natural fur-like colors of his suit and extra details contrasted his normal clothing style, which used more purple and red tones, showing his stature in the kingdom. His overcoat had slightly padded shoulders to emulate his everyday wear, and his vest to protect his shirt slightly covered the silly cravat that Acorn loves to torture him about. He didn't wear his boots, as he was forced to wear his uncomfortable dress shoes. Luka's mask was ornately decorated, with a small crown of pearls shaped vaguely of a lute sat on the forehead, and silver adorned the cheeks and temples of his mask. Acorn's mask and suit were nowhere as near to the simple extravagance of the kingdom's prince, but they were still proud to wear it, albeit, slightly embarrassed. Their mask was of a simple white rabbit, it's ears extending from the area just above the temples. Despite being very simple in shape, there were swirls of silver, and around the eyes and the edges of the ears, there was gold paint. Their mask also had a very little rabbit nose, similarly decorated to the rest of the mask. Their suit had no overcoat and had a more brown set of tones rather than the pure white of Luka's. Acorn was able to wear their boots, as it did match his suit, and they were sure if Luka was there to see that, he would probably give them a look that would kill.

        Speaking of which, Luka was greeting the party-goers, occasionally leaning down to kiss a lady's hand as her group of friends giggled at the small gesture. When he looked up from greeting a different woman who was surrounded by her escorts and saw Acorn, they could tell his night was made. Even though they could see his mouth, he was still in front of a small group, and couldn't show his excitement fully. Luka's eyes lit up, his hazel eyes catching the candlelight to make them a more pale yellow than normal, a happy glint in his eyes. Before he could excuse himself from the group to say hello to his friend, Luka was thrust into a conversation about courting, with the young woman – her name, what was her name… Vanessa? Was that it? – and him being the topic of conversation. Acorn saw Luka stiffen slightly when he turned around to an older gentleman gently touching his arm, and realized that they would probably both be here for a while.

. . . <3

      Luka crept behind Acorn, trying to be discreet about getting to the food table. Well, as discreet as he could be, being the kingdom's one and only heir to the throne, while people are trying to make him do political moves, like marrying their daughter that probably only wants to get in his pants or leave. He jabbed at his friend's sides, making them jolt and whirl around, glass slightly raised in case they needed to resort to violence. "Oh, you–!"  Luka chuckled and struggled not to laugh louder than was socially acceptable as Acorn realized it was him and gently smacked the back of their hand on his shoulder. "I almost splashed my champagne all over your suit, You're High–" Acorn was cut off before they could continue.

      Luka shook his head and put a finger over his lips. "Don't call me that, please. I just got out of a conversation with a neighboring kingdom's duke. I'm sure their daughter is nice and all, but God, I just want to have some food and spend time with you before I'm forced to go dance with the people here." Acorn quirked an eyebrow at that. The Prince? Wanting to spend time with the mail carrier? During a ball to find a suitable lover? Not out of the blue, but certainly not expected. Before Acorn could ask the thoughts running through their head, Luka quickly responded. "We haven't had any time to speak at all lately. I mean, I've been looking for a good school to look into law practice and you've been constantly working all the time with deliveries that my father is making you do. The whole reason why I invited you to this is so I could talk to you, not talk to the political figures," Luka bitterly spat out as he grabbed a small plate and put some sweets on it.  "… Is that so wrong?" He stayed silent for a moment after saying that, previous actions slowing and calming slightly.

      Acorn shook their head. "Of course not! It's alright to want to talk to someone who hasn't spoken to in a while. But," They lowered their voice slightly and moved closer to Luka, who in turn subconsciously moved towards them. "Why here? Where you are trying to find a suitable lover?" They turned their head slightly to get a look at Luka and oh stars, when did he get this close. His shoulder-length hair had a small ponytail in the back, tying off some, but leaving the rest down to frame what little of his face people could see. He smelled like vanilla and lavender, and Acorn couldn't get enough of it. They were thankful for the mask for once, hoping that the other couldn’t see their face flush scarlet as they realized what they were thinking.

     Acorn looked away, probably a bit too quickly, and looked around at the scene around them as Luka sighed. “Well, you know how it is. I was kinda forced to come here. Royal duties to,” he switched to a deeper voice and cocked his head a little higher, “keep the royal bloodline alive and all that wonderful business.” He shook his head and started to walk away from the table with his plate piled high. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t wish to, but I would like you too.” Acorn looked at Luka and smiled, while they both walked off together. Luka side-eyed them and lifted his mask slightly to eat easier. They smiled at one another after a moment, and after Luka gently slapped Acorn's hand for trying to steal a chocolate truffle, they walked onto a balcony to (hopefully) get some better privacy to talk with one another.

. . . <3

     The two slightly moved their masks away from their faces, finally being able to breathe more comfortably and show their faces while in their own company. Acorn walked closer to the balcony and looked up at the sky, while Luka slowly picked at the desserts on his plate. “It’s beautiful.” Luka looked up, and swore his heart stopped at the sight ahead of him. Acorn was leaning over the balcony’s intricate stone banister, one leg tucked behind the other. Their tight bun was slightly undone, hair messy, but oh so… Elegant, is that the word? Even in the dim light of the moon shining down on them in their suit, and the band still heard playing, Luka could just stare. This moment felt too intimate. Even… even for just friends, silently pining. Acorn turned slightly, to look back at the other. “Don’t you think so?” Luka stuttered as he let out a held breath – since when did he stop breathing? He flubbed an agreement that seemed to satisfy Acorn, because they turned around and kept looking at the stars and constellations. Luka unknowingly kept admiring them, smiling to himself. He finished his dish and set it next to him as he got up to look at the stars next to Acorn. They stood there for a few minutes, pointing out constellations and enjoying each other’s company for a bit.

     Luka looked over at Acorn, and his heart flipped. Oh how he wished he could just kiss them –

     … Wait.

     Oh. Oh.

     Oh no.

     He flushed red at the thought that he couldn’t quickly shoot down as he wanted to. He? And Acorn? His childhood best friend, who helped him through everything, even though they were the child of a mail carrier? He wanted to laugh, but the thought had crossed his mind too much as of late for his to even think about drawing an awkward chuckle from himself. They were just so… so perfect for him not to fantasize about what a relationship with them would be like. It would be a scandal for sure, but would anyone really mind? He saw the was his parents looked knowingly at him when he laughed a little too hard at one of Acorn insufferable puns and jokes. Even when the topic of this ball was brought up by an advisor, the King told him that it was really just a formality to “keep the bloodline alive”, and nothing more. Luka realized that he was probably staring, and cleared his throat slightly, looking back at the stars above. Then one of the band members – violin presumably – started a familiar refrain, as the other instruments slowly joined in.

     Luka looked at Acorn, as they looked back at him. “You should probably… go grace somebody with you amazing dancing skills Luka.” They looked at the slightly ajar door they left open when they came out on the balcony. “I mean, some lucky lady is probably wanting to dace with you. Perhaps the one you were talking to for hours on end, hmm?” Though their voice had a teasing tone, Luka could tell that they didn’t want him to leave. Not yet.

     Luka pretended to think it over, and grabbed their hand to pull them closer to him. “No, I don’t think I’ll leave just yet.” He chuckled, and dramatically leaned down to kiss Acorn's hand as they sputtered. “Care to join me for a dance, my dear?” Even in the dim lighting, Luka could tell that Acorn's face was probably scarlet at this point. Their mouth opened and closed for a moment, trying to find words without sounding like a fool, but eventually they just nodded their head. Luka smiled gently. “You don’t have to. I won’t mind if you refuse Acorn.” They stood their ground and shook their head, saying that they did want to dance. So, they got ready to waltz in time with the music.

     Luka put his hand on Acorn's shoulder while Acorn put theirs on his waist. They clasped each other’s hand, and started swaying gently with the music. It was surprisingly more springy than they both remembered, but the pair started dancing slightly. They turned and swayed as the music continued, and slowed when the band quieted to let the singers… well, sing.

So, this is love

Mmm~

Luka hummed the words slightly as the pair subconsciously moved closer to one another. Acorn looked up at Luka slightly, eyebrow raised. Luka scoffed slightly. “We both know that we’ve been raised on this song, don’t give me that look.” Luka gently nudged the other, and Acorn chuckled.

So this, is love…

So this is what makes life, divine

Closer and closer still, the pair moved in tandem with one another, circling like two moons orbiting a forgotten planet. They swayed, with Luka gradually whispering the lyrics, enjoying himself. They both looked borderline ethereal to the other, both of them unbelieving of the sight they had.

“I’m all aglow, mmm

And now I know,”

“And now I know…” Acorn sang slightly, looking at Luka while he sang the verse before. They both seemed surprised that Acorn did that, but Luka recovered and muttered that they had a nice voice. Acorn flushed, and buried their face into Luka’s jacket, stuttering.

“The key to all heaven is mine…”

They harmonized with themselves and the singers inside the castle. They had stopped dancing altogether at this point, and had just started embracing each other instead. Acorn's head was on Luka’s shoulder, and Luka was staring ahead, head tilted slightly to clay. The pair still swayed gently, but it wasn’t to start dancing.

My heart has wings, mmm

And I can fly

I’ll touch every star in the sky…

Luka looked down to Acorn, and saw the peaceful expression they held. ‘They are right there,’ he heard himself scold. ‘Just kiss them, get it over with.’

So this is the miracle

That I’ve been dreaming of…

Mmm

They now faced one another and started slowly leaning together, their faces almost touching. Luka’s eyes fluttered closed as Acorn's glanced down at his lips.

Mmm

So this…

Is love.

     The singer’s duet ended, and their lips finally connected. It felt like fireworks and explosions were going off, sparks dancing on their lips. As the two gripped each other tighter, they didn’t hear the pair of feet making their way towards them. “Your highness, you are–” The guard cut herself off as she realized what she had walked into unknowingly. The two parted quickly once her voice was heard, and Acorn tried to shuffle away from Luka slightly to try and at least pretend that they totally weren’t kissing, what? “I, I’m sorry your highness, I can come back–”

     Luka shook his head, but never let go of Acorn. “No, no. What is it?” He inquired and put most of his attention to the distraction at hand, slightly disappointed. Acorn looked down at the ground, away from the guard, suddenly taking interest in a few pebbles on the surrounding stone.

     The guard re-positioned herself. “The King wanted to see you sire, but I will just let him know that you are… Busy doing other things. I, uh. Hope I didn’t interrupt anything too maj– you know what? I’m just gonna…” The guard awkwardly walked off, shifting in her armor slightly, embarrassed that she walked in on the prince and the mail carrier having a moment together.

... "Wait, the mail carrier??"

     Luka waited for a moment after she left, making sure the gentle clinks of her armor had faded completely. The pair stayed silent for a moment, before Acorn tried to shift away again. Luka pulled them to where they were originally in his arms and smiled mischievously. “Where do you think your going, lover?” He teased, laughing slightly as Acorn pretended to fight back. He grin became wider as he realized that Acorn had blushed darker. “Oh, did you like that dearest? Calling you ‘lover’?” Luka cooed at them, as Acorn gently swatted at him. “Just come here, sweetheart,” and with that last teasing pet name, he brought them into another kiss, less tentatively. He could feel Acorn smile as they let out a silent sigh and melt against him, knees weak. Luka pulled away slightly, and as Acorn's head followed the movement slightly, he whispered, “Don’t you think we should take this somewhere a little more private after the guard, you know…?” Acorn's knees fully gave out, and Luka hurriedly clung onto them as he felt how hot they were. He fussed over them for a second, hoping that they didn’t fully pass out.

     They both chuckled for a moment after Acorn quickly recovered, and Acorn muttered something along the lines of “Kissing is just fine for now, anything more and I think I’ll die.” The two couldn’t contain their loud laughter at this remark, Luka’s laughter carrying on over Acorn's. He leaned over and gently pecked their cheek, saying how they didn’t want anyone to see them kissing again, and that he was sorry that he insinuated something more than kissing. Acorn pecked him back on his lips, and accepted the apology.

💛

(Little bonus scene! I didn’t really wanna write this out fully, but I kinda wanted to add what one of their fist meetings could be sknf -- enjoy!!)

Looking back on it, the Snatcher could hardly believe that he was so in… actual infatuation and love with a childhood friend that he could hardly believe that he could marry Vanessa. She was of course, fine at the start, but the lingering feelings for the pair never truly left their hearts. He shook his head, looking back down at his book, waiting for that kid – Hat Kid was it? Or was it Bow? – when a knock sounded on the tree bark. Snatcher sighed. “What do you want, ki–”

His sentence was abruptly cut off as he saw an all too familiar face in the entry way with Hat Kid behind them. “Hello your highness. Been a few years, hasn’t it?” Snatcher almost dropped his book as his jaw hung slightly. Acorn, in the flesh. Right there. Their clothes were much more casual to fit the modern times, and they carried a mail bag on their shoulder, with a mail carrier's cap in one of their hands.

Snatcher blinked a few times. “Yeah… 10, at least, huh sweetheart?” Acorn laughed loudly, and ran towards him. They embraced again, and finally after 200 years of waiting, wondering if the other was alive or not, Acorn peppered Snatcher’s face with kisses. There certainly wasn’t going to be any complaining about this for a while to say the least. Even from a ghost who always said he had a reputation to uphold.

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Blood in the Water (Sequel to Such a Softer Sin) Chapter 4

(Chapter 1)

(Chapter 2)

(Chapter 3)

Oh my god, writing this has been like pulling teeth for me! I hate not having complete creative freedom loooool.

Send help.

Can we just talk about Murphy in the scene where Rocco brings the boys their clothes and rosaries at the station? Cause I watched it like a billion times and his laugh is the most precious thing to ever grace this world, it hurts my soul. o.O

--------------------------------------------

Lila sat between her boys, her fingers drumming anxiously on the table. They were in the interrogation room as Agent Smecker spoke to the boys. She had seen his questioning glances towards her, like he was figuring out how she fit into all this, which twin she was with. But the boys subconsciously gravitated towards her, Murphy's arm around her shoulder and Connors hand on her knee. She saw the look of realisation cross the man's face then, but he didn't comment on it. The way they were sat reminded Lila of the second time she had ever met the boys, when she had been feeling much better and introduced herself. How Connor got her to sit with them and have a drink, Murphy's arm around her, Connors hand on her knee. She thought they were just being friendly at the time, now looking back, they were probably trying to get in her pants. She would have gone along with it, but she had been so unaware they would even like her that way. Things worked out for the best though, she wouldn't change what happened with them for anything.

The boys were showing off their language skills, sneakily talking about the man himself as he looked on impressed. He settled his eyes onto her then with a smile.

“What about you doll? Can you speak any other languages?” He asked curiously.

“Just Irish. These two assholes always switch to something I can't understand when they don't want me to know something.” She said dryly, rolling her eyes a little. The boys huffed out a laugh next to her and Smecker grinned. The man seemed decent enough, he believed their story, the evidence backed them up. It was self-defense and they were free to go, Lila was overwhelmed with relief. The boys had been clear they didn't want to talk to the press or want pictures, especially adamant about Lila being kept out of it all. They didn't need a price on their heads for what they had done, they didn't want anyone to know it was them, especially their fucking mother. They'd asked to stay at the station overnight, that way they could wait for the press to leave.

Lila sat on one of the cots in the cell. She didn't much like the idea of sleeping in a cell but it wouldn't be locked, they weren’t being held at least. The boys had requested an extra bed and positioned them so they were right next to each other. They wouldn't be able to be such a tangle of limbs as they were used to, the beds would most likely shift in the night and one of them would fall down the gap, but at least they could still be close. The boys were playing cards with two officers when Rocco bound in, pile of clothes in hand.

“Yeah!” Murphy exclaimed excitedly, literally jumping up from where he sat. Rocco tossed the clothes on the cot just in time for Murphy to grab him in a big hug. Lila couldn't help but smile as Murphys beautiful boyish laugh filled up the cell.  She loved that laugh, and she came very close not to hearing it ever again. Her smile vanished. Connor had gotten up too and Rocco produced the boys' rosaries, always the best friend he was and knowing they'd want them. Lila stood up and blinked at him. It hit her again just how close she had been to never seeing anyone again. She was so emotional it was driving her insane.

The three boys turned to her then, the boys picking up on her emotional state and Connor watched her carefully, Murphy gave her a sympathetic smile. Rocco grinned at her, almost running over and grabbing her in a bear hug, actually lifting her off her feet for a moment. When he set her feet back down and went to move away, she tightened her arms around him, burying her face in his neck as she tried to get a hold of herself, a few tears escaping. Rocco heard her sniffle and he frowned, he'd heard what had happened and he knew it must have been scary for them all. He just held her tight and rubbed her back soothingly. The twins cleared their throats behind them, and Lila finally released Rocco. Connor quirked a brow amused at her overly affectionate hug and Murphy squinted. It wasn't until they saw her wipe her eyes and sniffle a little that they realised how upset she was.

She hadn't really spoken much since they got here, they'd all been through a lot with this and they were all trying to deal with it. It had been hard for the boys, being faced with the reality of once again almost losing each other. For Connor, he knew what that felt like, Murphy had actually died on him once and like fuck he was going through that again. He would walk through the flames of hell to let his brother have one more breath on this planet, and it was his sheer overriding need to protect Murphy that had him launching himself from the fucking roof. Then there had been Lila. When he was cuffed to the toilet his mind was alight with every awful thing those assholes were going to do to her. There was no chance in hell he was going to let them do that to his lass. Murphy, he had his first real taste of having to control his rage. Held at gunpoint with his girl, he couldn't just go off on these pricks. Connor was fucking cuffed to a toilet and he couldn't take them on his own. He had been in between accepting their fate, begrudgingly of course, and also believing that God wouldn't allow this, that something, fucking anything would stop it from happening. Why would he be brought back from the other side, why would he and his brother survive what they did just for it to end like this? He knew there was more, he knew it wasn't their time. He didn't fucking expect that something to be his own twin throwing a bog off the roof and flying along right after it, that had been a surprise. But he guessed his brother's movies did come in handy after all.

The boys had been too busy dealing with their own emotions of it to really think about how their girl felt about it all. She had been there after all, witnessing it all. When they willed her to run in the loft, to just get out of there, they should have known she wouldn’t have listened. And the second that gun got pointed at her, the boys shared such a blind fear they'd never felt before. And she fucking stood there, clutching a frying pan ready to attack, to help them. Connor might have laughed if the situation wasn't so life-threatening. All it took was Murphy's life being threatened and she dropped the pan with no hesitation, and they could see on her face how scared she was, how she knew she couldn't do shit about it. Murphy had been so mad at her, how she hadn't ran when he told her to, how she was ready to use a pan on these fuckers to try and help, like that would do any good and they wouldn't just shoot her. But now he could think back, he understood why she hadn't left them, because he knew he wouldn't either.

She seemed distant now, not as bad as after the car accident, but still a little off, and the boys worried about her. They didn't want her to go away again, it had been hard enough dealing with that after the whole Murphy thing. She needed to just let it out, to feel and deal with it. They were just glad she cried a little when she hugged Rocco, it was better than nothing.

She moved to sit back on the cot before the boys could move to her and they shared a look, she was putting off a definite vibe of not wanting to be touched and whilst Connor was happy to listen to her if that's what would make her feel better, Murphy hated it. He just wanted to curl around her, inhale her soothing scent, kiss her. His right hand twitched as he looked at her, desperate to go to her and touch her. Connor pat him on the back, snapping him out of it and giving him a pointed look. The officers had left and Rocco stayed for a bit, playing cards with the brothers and just having a laugh. Lila didn't join in, she just sat there for a while before laying down on her cot. She had put on her jeans now but was still wearing Murphy's shirt she slept in and the boys were in their jeans.  She didn't realise she dozed off until the boys got in their own cots later after Rocco had left. They couldn't attach themselves to her like they usually did since the cots would move. So Connor reached out and rested a hand on her hip from behind her, Murphy taking the hand she had in front on her face. She blinked sleepily at him and he smiled, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it sweetly. She couldn't help but smile back, and she rested her other hand over Connors on her hip. The boys relaxed, happy she was letting them touch her, be close to her. Everything felt right with the world when they were connected like this.

Thunder booming in the sky, Lila flinched in her sleep, her eyes fluttering around behind her closed eyelids. The priest's words from the St Patrick's day mass swirled around her head. She couldn't breathe, her body jerking in her sleep. Suddenly she gasped for air as her body lurched to sit up. She was panting and she jumped out of her skin when she heard the boys next to her.

“Destroy all that which is evil…”

“So that which is good may flourish.”

Lila blinked at them, noticing they too were in the same state as her, she was still trying to catch her breath as she looked from one to the other, confused as hell. She had never shared a dream with the boys before, that was fucking new. The boys were looking at each other intensely before their eyes finally settled on the girl between them, her hand over her chest as she tried to breathe normally. They looked back to each other, concerned that she too had the dream.

They knew what that dream meant, they didn't need to analyse it or question it, they just knew, as clear as they just knew their own name. They were being called by God, to be his soldiers in a world gone awry. It made sense now, why Murphy had been brought back, his purpose alongside his brother. This was what they were here for. They were brought out of their thoughts by Lila.

“The fuck was that?” She whispered, furrowing her brow as she glanced from Connor to Murphy. They weren't sure what to say, she had their dream, she would have felt it. It seemed more like a rhetorical question than anything else and they didn't really know how to vocalise it. The boys knew things were about to change dramatically, and they weren’t quite sure where their girl fit into it all. Connor lay back down, pulling Lila to lay too and putting his hand on her hip once again. She was still tired and confused so she complied, watching as Murphy lay back down in front of her and held her hand. Before long the three of them were back asleep.

Lila woke before the boys, she felt restless, the dream was bothering her, it didn't feel like an ordinary dream and it unsettled her beyond belief. She knew, she just knew what it meant for the boys, she had no idea what the fuck they’d do with the information, but she knew just as they did what was being asked of them, and she didn't like it one bit. She stood near the bars, just looking out and wondering what this meant for them all, when the boys woke up. She watched carefully as they sat up sleepily, pulling on their shirts. The boys' locked eyes for a minute and Lila tensed when she realised they seemed to be blocking her, even as tired as they were. She couldn't get a read on them and it irritated her. They turned to look at her then and she looked away, she didn't like how things were changing between them all. She heard a beeping and looked over, watching as Murphy grabbed the pager and tossed it to his brother.

“It’s the fuckin’ Russians pager.” Murphy grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he tried to wake up more.

Connor nodded, standing and grabbing his coat and slinging it on, Murphy following suit. Connor grabbed Lilas hoodie and walked over, giving her a tentative smile as he held it for her, sliding it on her. She smiled back weakly, and zipped it up. He watched her carefully and rested his hands on her neck, just looking down at her. She blinked up at him, no words needed. Things were different now and none of them really knew what to expect, but none of them could fight it either. He leant down and kissed her lips softly, just wanting to be close to her for a moment. When he moved away, Murphy came over, tugging on her wrist to yank her closer to him with a boyish grin. She smiled up at him as she hit his chest. He wound a hand in her hair as his mouth captured hers, his kiss more demanding than his brothers had been. Her whole body tingled as his tongue caressed hers and suddenly he was pulled away, Connor smirking at them both and quirking a brow.

“Spoilsport.” Murphy grumbled, giving his brother a good-natured punch to the arm.

They walked out of the cell and the cops cheered them, Lila was trailing behind Murphy and she snorted as the boy raised his arms, seemingly enjoying the attention. The cops were shaking their hands and smiling at her and she felt awkward as shit, inching closer to Murphy.

“Be right back.” Connor muttered to Murphy, slinking off. Lila watched carefully as he made his way to the phone, pager in hand. A sense of dread washed over her, knowing what he was doing. Murphy wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close and snapping her attention to him instead of his brother. He gave her a reassuring smile and nuzzled her cheek affectionately, making her blush as the cops watched on. They were offered coffee and donuts and Lila sipped the coffee grateful for the fucking caffeine, it didn't quite taste like the coffee she was used to making at home, but it would do.

“What's this?” Murphy asked as a cop handed him the paper.

‘The Saints and Angel of South Boston’

Lila blanched when she read the headline and Murphy quirked his brow.

“The Saints?” He asked sounding a little amused. He dipped his fingers in his coffee, flicking it at the cops like he was anointing them.

“The body o’ Christ, the body o’ Christ.” He smirked, making Lila glance to him with a snort. He turned to look at her, giving her an innocent grin and she shook her head.

“Ye read that love? Yer an angel.” He smirked devilishly at her, hand winding into her hair.

“Hardly.” She snorted, her cheeks flushing.

Connor came back, taking her hand as he looked to Murphy, having a mental conversation she wasn't privy to and she chewed the inside of her cheek as she watched him.

“Alright, let's head home.” He said, flashing her a grin, she didn't return it though and he frowned a little. She was silent the whole way home, the brothers talking in a language she couldn't understand, it was driving her insane that they were keeping shit from her, important shit if the dream she shared with them was anything to go by. When they made it to the loft, the door was on the floor and the toilet was obviously gone, leaving a puddle of wet behind.

“Fantastic.” Lila huffed, taking her hoodie off and throwing it over the couch. Connor picked the door up and placed it against the wall, looking over the hinges, it could be fixed, wasn't the end of the world. The toilet though, well that was another matter.

“The empty apartment next door has a workin’ toilet, guess we’ll have te use that for now.” Murphy sighed, glancing around the place. It felt weird being back here after what happened.

Lila noticed the screen on the floor, ruined from all the water from the toilet and she heaved a sigh. She jumped when Murphy came up behind her, resting his hands on her tummy.

“We’ve got some shit te take care o’ m’girl, we’ll be back soon.” He whispered, kissing her neck sweetly. She tensed and moved away, turning to look at him firmly and glancing to his twin.

“Shit? Like what shit?” She asked bluntly, eyeing them both carefully. She had her ideas but she wanted to hear it from them. Murphy licked his lower lip and his eyes found the floor very interesting for a moment, Connor shifted on his feet feeling uncomfortable.

“Just somethin’ we have te do sweetheart. We want ye te stay here and be safe.” He stated vaguely, his voice firm as he looked her square in the eye, telling her she had no choice.

“I have a right to know what my fiances are doing, don't you think?” She snapped, eyes blazing at their secrecy. They didn't keep shit from each other, now they were blocking her and being evasive. Connor sighed and Murphy looked at her forlornly.

“Lila, love, we don't need te tell ye, ye had the dream wit’ us, ye already know.” He said regretfully, not wanting to vocalize it, not wanting to leave her, but they had no choice. They could take care of shit then come back to their girl.

“Right, destroy all that which is evil, so that which is good may flourish… awesome. So whilst you two go out their playing superheroes, I’ll just wait here and worry myself to death, that it?” She scoffed, shaking her head bitterly.

Murphy took a step forward, reaching for her hand but she took a step back out of his reach.

“Just go, if you don't, I won't let you leave.” She bit out, not able to look at them. She understood they had to do it, she got it, she felt the dream, she couldn't explain it but she knew as well as they did that God had given them this task, she just couldn't figure out why it had to be her boys. They looked at her regretfully, wanting nothing more than to kiss and hug her goodbye, but she had shut them out. They understood her apprehension, the fact she would indeed just be sat there worried for them didn't sound appealing to them either, but they sure as shit weren't taking her with them.

“We love ye Lila.” They said in unison, heading to the door and casting her one last longing glance.

“I love you too.” She whispered, sitting on the bed and running her hands through her wild hair.

The boys disappeared through what was once the door and she tried to will away the lump in her throat. She could try to keep herself busy whilst they were gone, try not to think about the fact they were off on some vigilante mission from God, that anything could go wrong, they weren't exactly experts at killing bad guys just because they killed two with a fucking toilet.

“How the fuck did this even happen?” She asked herself, a bitter tone to her voice. She heaved a sigh and got up, first on her agenda was fixing the door, she felt unsettled just out in the open like this.

An hour later and she was stood with Mr O’Keefe as he finished fixing the door. She pulled out a $20 from her pocket and handed it to him but he shook his head and gave her a warm smile.

“No lass, those boy o’ yers did good. Ye don’t need te pay me.” His words unsettled her, of course the people here knew, the FBI and cops had been around asking questions. But the old man's smile made her relax just slightly, he was on their side. She knew this neighbourhood was 100% Irish and none of them were about to rat them out that these three were the ones in the paper. Only the people living here would connect the dots. She just nodded, giving him a weary smile before he left.

She glanced to the toilet, or lack thereof, she couldn't really do much about that one. She’d need to buy a new one, but she didn't know how much it would cost. For now they could just use the one next door like Murphy suggested. She needed to mop up all the water though. She grabbed all the towels they had, soaking up the water. The towels were a mess when she was finally done and she went to the fire escape, tossing them over and watching them land in the dumpster. The same dumpster Murphy was next to, on his knees at gunpoint. Her gut clenched, wondering where they were, if they were okay.

She spent the rest of the night cleaning, trying to scrub every trace of the Russians existence from the place. When she was done she felt a little better, but she still hadn't heard from the boys, they weren't back and she hadn't had a phone call. She switched on the tv and just sat there for a while watching, and then the news came on. Her eyes widened as they reported the murders in Copley Plaza, she knew it was them, it had to be. But if they were done, where the fuck were they? She ended up falling asleep from exhaustion on the couch waiting for them, not being able to keep her eyes open any longer.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag

[lets-love-sammy]

I Have to Tell You Something, You’re an Idiot

Also on AO3

This is it, guys!!! It's not finished, and as you can see, I made into a chapter fic, cause I'm lazy!, ill be posting the already written chapters in the next few days, and hopefully, I can finish the rest in a reasonable time!! Knowing me it probably won't, but huzzah! Enjoy!!

Chapter 1: The Fallout

“Theo?” Slap, “Theo!” Slap. Liam was screaming at an unconscious Theo lying on the floor, unmoving, breathing labored, Liam keeps shaking him, trying to wake him, he raises his hand again to slap him, but his hand curls into a fist in the air.

2 days ago

 “Come on, Baby Wolf, you know I didn’t mean it,” Theo says teasingly to a fuming Liam. “Yes, you did! You always do this!!” Liam yells, eyes flickering between his stormy blues and beta gold. “Do what?” Theo asks, confused, eyebrows furrowing. “Oh, don’t give me that shit, you know exactly what I mean,” Liam growls Theo stands there, extremely confused, trying to approach Liam, to calm him down, but Liam takes 2 steps back for every step he takes forward.  “Liam, I have no idea what you’re talking about, ok, now can you please come here, you’re wolfing out,” Theo, reaching his hand beckoning Liam closer. Liam growls and flashes his eyes, “Li, you know that doesn’t scare me” Theo says, continuing his approach to Liam.

Liam keeps backing up, until he hits a wall, panting, eyes glowing a molten gold. Theo slowly approaches Liam, reaching out slowly taking Liam’s hand and unclenching, rubbing his thumbs across his knuckles, causing his claws to recede, Theo pulls Liam towards him, putting one hand on his lower back, the other at the nape of his neck, rubbing his thumb along any area he can reach, Liam drops his head to Theo’s shoulder, still panting. “What 3 things cannot be long hidden?” Theo whispers, Liam tries to stay angry but feels his anger dissipate at every intake of Theo’s scent he takes. Theo’s scent calms him instantly, replying “the sun, the moon, the truth,” breathing in Theo’s scent deeply, his nose in the crook of his neck. “That’s it, Baby Wolf, that’s it,” Theo says, feeling the tension slowly leaving Liam’s body.

“Don’t call me that,” Liam growls back half-heartedly. This was not the first time this had happened, hell it probably won’t be the last, it was an unspoken agreement, so to speak, between them, Theo calming down Liam when he would lose control. Liam never said anything after it happened. In fact, the first time it did, Liam wouldn’t look Theo in the eye for a week, it got better, slowly, eventually Liam was comfortable enough with Theo to just let him calm down in any way necessary. Though he did draw the line at anything that would cause blood, unless it was Theo’s, mostly broken noses though, nothing else. Liam never said anything, outside this quiet moment where they hold onto each other, they are always at each other’s throats, snarking at each other, but lately, all of that has been losing its heat. Theo gets drawn out of his thoughts by Liam pulling away, he looks down at him, even if there isn’t that much of a height difference between them, and smiles softly, Liam smiles back, but it quickly falls.

“I’m still mad at you,” Liam says quietly, eyes averting from Theo, Theo frowns, “Little Beta, I have no idea what you’re mad at?” Theo says, confusion evident on his face. Liam looks up at that, eyes filled with anger, his face flushing, “You Always do this Theo!! Every single time someone approaches me, you swoop in and make fun of me till they leave,” Liam yells. Theo’s eyes widen, understanding filling his eyes, truthfully, Theo did it because he was jealous, Liam was his, and he was just steering people away, he hadn’t realized Liam had taken notice.

“Li, I’m, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it upset you so much,” Theo says, trying to hide the reason for why he did it, but also apologize. “Upset? UPSET! YOU ALWAYS MAKE FUN OF ME, YOU NEVER LET ME HAVE OTHER PEOPLE! I GET IT, IM THE ONLY PERSON YOU HAVE, BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU HAVE TO BE MY ONLY PERSON TOO, I HAVE A LIFE, THAT DOESN’T INVOLVE YOU, THEO!” Liam yells, slapping his hand over his mouth quickly, horrified at what he said, eyes widening, filled with regret. Theo’s face goes through a plethora of emotions, anger, sadness, guilt, but it stills to a blank stony face.

“No, wait, Theo, I didn’t mean, I’m sorry,” Liam says quietly, voice filled with guilt, reaching out to grab Theo. “No, its fine, your right Liam, I’m sorry for taking up all your time,” he says, voice flat, eyes dead, while shrugging off Liam’s hand, the flicker of hurt that flashes in Liam’s eyes almost makes him reach back out, but he knows, that now isn’t the time to roll over, but stand and defy.

He turns to leave, picking up his keys wallet and phone. “WAIT!! Where are you going?” Liam asks, chasing after him, Theo reaches for the doorknob, “I’m leaving for a bit, get out of your hair,” he says, turned away from Liam, trying to keep a steady heartbeat and a calm voice. “But I don’t want you to…” Liam says, whining quietly. “Well, I need some fresh air, Liam, see you at school,” Theo says, with an air of finality, opening and slamming the front door, practically running to his truck, getting inside, to try and calm his breathing, and not cry. He puts his keys in the ignition and turns it, the engine roaring to life, puts it to drive, and slams on the gas pedal, trying to leave as fast as possible, fists clenching the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, vision getting blurry.

He furiously wipes his eyes, but it's futile because there are rivers of tears streaming down his face. He drives, picking a location subconsciously, and when he finally puts the car to park and looks up, he sees the rebuilt Hale house. It's pouring down outside his car, and he stays inside, conversation running through his mind, and he sobs, slamming his hand against the steering wheel multiple times, “STUPID, STUPID, STUPID” he yells, his head slumps, coming to rest on his hands on the steering wheel, crying softly. He stays there for lord knows how long, when he hears a knock at his window. He looks up and sees Derek, who quirks his eyebrow. Theo sighs, switches off his car, takes his keys, opens the door, and steps outside. Derek stares at him, “I’m, I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go” Theo says quietly. Derek grunts, and walks back inside, Theo stands there, unsure what to do. “You gonna wait there till it starts raining again?” Derek says from inside. Theo turns to look at the door, and rushes inside, right before the rain starts pouring down again.

He looks down at the ground, shivering, when a towel is handed to him he looks up at Derek, who smiles at him, he smiles back grateful and takes the towel. “Theo?” a voice from the kitchen asks, Theo freezes up, unsure what to do, but Derek puts a hand on his back, guiding him to the kitchen. Stiles is standing behind the stove, spoon in hand, wearing an apron that says, ‘Kiss the Cook’. Derek goes over to Stiles, and gives him a peck on the cheek, before moving to the table, and sitting down to read.

“Hey Stiles,” Theo says quietly, looking down at the floor, thinking about all the times him and Liam would mess around in the kitchen, flinging food around, and how many times he had wanted to kiss that beautiful idiot. Stiles turns off the stove taking off the apron, and approaches Theo, who is lost in thought and shivering, he reaches out and puts a hand on his arm. Theo gasps at the sudden contact, and looks up, trying to blink the tears from his eyes. “Come on, you’ll freeze in these clothes, I have some upstairs that might fit,” Stiles says, grabbing Theo by the arm, and dragging him upstairs. Derek chuckles quietly, before his face turns somber, and sends a text out to Scott, to go scope out the damage.