#I can’t believe the book is almost over and I’m sure nothing will happen between them and I’ll have to wait EVEN LONGER

[cforbes]

Jean choosing to buy blue shirts because blue is Jeremy’s favorite color directly followed by him declaring brown as his favorite color because it’s the color of Jeremy’s eyes is just too much at once. What are you doing to me Nora

[julieloves074]

I want you (Cole Walter x reader)

Summary: When the storm hits the ranch and most of the family is at Will's evening party Y/n and Cole are left to talk in the candle light, which could end either beautifully or tragically as they navigate whatever is happening between them.

Warnings: Death, kissing, swearing

Words: 4.27k

(Not my Gif :) )

“I still can’t believe that I let you take me to that party” I said to Cole as he pulled out candles from the top drawer in the living room.

“I can’t believe that you came,” he turned to me briefly, his eyes beautiful even in the shade of this storm and little light, he turned back to the draw, “I’m glad you were there,” he said, quieter this time, I couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that started to lift the corner of my lips.

“Apart from the fact that I vomited on you right?” I tried to defuse the energy that was building up here with a laugh.

“Eh, could have been worse,” he started and turned around to face me again holding two candles, “Alright this is all of them now,”. We took a couple each and laid them around the kitchen and the living room.

“Can you pass me the lighter from the kitchen?” Cole called from the other room, I picked it out from the ‘anything and everything’ draw that every family has in their house and walked to the other room.

The darkness made it hard to see, but the outline of his frame was as clear as day, it felt as if I knew his frame well enough to find him anywhere.

“Thanks,” he reached for the lighter and our hands touch. As cliché as in every book I’ve ever read and every romcom I’ve ever watched. His hands weren’t soft or rough they were the perfect medium, he’s helped George on the farm since he was young and played football but there was still a compassionate side to him, one that he didn’t like to show.

His thumb brushed over my hand, he looked down briefly and I knew I should pull my hand free and step away, knowing the feelings Alex had for me. Even though he knows I don’t share the same feelings back I would still feel wrong to do this with his brother. Then Cole’s eyes came up to meet mine and he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“If you want to start lighting up the candles, I’m just going to check the kids are asleep,” I explained rushing towards the stairs with one last gentle smile. That was another good reminder, everyone else may be at some fancy party but we were still looking after the younger Walter siblings.

Just as I had expected they were all still asleep tucked away just how Katherine had settled them down. The Walter’s slept hard, nothing wakes them up, not even a ranging storm with killer winds apparently.

After checking up on all of them I head towards the stairs again, but something catches my eye as I go to lower my foot onto the first step. A little packaged box on a dresser in Cole and Danny’s room. I tear my eyes away from it and take the first step. Yet just as quickly as I looked away, I looked back to the little brown box with the blue bow.

I stepped lightly to avoid any squeaky board; the box was sat there surrounded with a mix of both the boy’s stuff. I raised my brows in confusion, I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, that I was invading their privacy, but the inquisitiveness got the best of me. If it’s Danny’s, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind anyway.

From the handwriting on the note at the top I could immediately tell that it wasn’t Danny’s, his handwriting much neater, almost cursive, which I still found impressive. It just said my name, I opened the folded piece of paper and had to read over the short note a couple of times before it registered.

‘It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply’

My mom’s favorite quote staring right at me. The quote I told Cole that day when…

***

We had just finished our shift at the cider stand, Will and Alex had already packed everything up into the van. Alex was less than impressed by the fact that Cole decided to come out of his depression cocoon to come and help and help he did. He auctioned himself away for an afternoon and helped us raise over double of the money we needed for the new auditorium.

“You fancy a little detour?” He asked, looking away from the road momentarily with a half smirk my way, I shook my head but a light smile still found its way onto my lips.

“What are you thinking?” I asked, I couldn’t disguise that I was curious, getting to know Cole was hard. Some days he was rays of sunshine and an open book other days, most days, he shut himself out, hiding behind a carless façade. I was guilty of the fact that I wanted him to sweep me away for a while into his own world.

“It’ll have to be a surprise,” he said, the smile still there when he looked bacl onto the road, I may have not been here long yet but I knew the second he took a different turn. We drove through some more woodlands until we came to a clearing, the sky absolutely clear.

When I stepped out of the car a fresh breeze flushed against my skin, it was refreshing.

“So… what do you think?” he says walking ahead of me. I followed not too far behind looking around taking in the surroundings. The river flowed surrounded by more trees and low rocks.

“It’s really beautiful here,”

“Alright come on then!” He shouted louder as he started to run towards the river

“Cole where are you going!” I called back, stood still watching him.

“Well we can’t go home now!” He turned around momentarily, gesturing me over with his hands. I shook my head and shut the car door, following behind him, my hair flowing in the wind beneath my hat.

When I finally caught up the sound of the gushing river was clearer and there he stood on some rocks, his back to me, jacket on the ground. He reached down to grab something, I stepped onto the same rock, more cautiously than him.

“There, for you,” he pushed the flower he was holding out towards me. I eyed him cautiously, his teasing side coming out, “Come on, I’m being nice,” his head tilted slightly.

I gave in reaching for the purple flower, he pulled it back a little with a laugh and I shook my head slightly, he pushed it my way again but lets me take it this time. In the exact same moment, he steals the hat off my head.

“Hey!” I shouted going to reach for it, he moves away, flaunting the hat in different directions, taunting me with it, “This is not fair,” I claimed moving towards him away. He’s laughing and I’m laughing, and it feels like a weight lifted off my chest.

I stop for a second, Cole stops too a moment later, that cheeky smile playing his lips. In that moment of calm I reached for the hat and his coat that was now next to my feet.

“Hey that wasn’t part of the rules!” He called coming after me this time, I’ve suddenly gained the confidence that I won’t fall into the water.

“Oh sorry, didn’t realize there were any rules,” I answered in the same tone, I moved another couple of steps and turned to start running onto the grass. Cole’s arms found their way around me as he tried for the jacket. I turned my head to face him, our faces centimeters apart. He pulled me closer laughing into the back of my neck.

“Okay okay, draw?” He asked his breath still on the back of my neck

“Deal,” I said taking a step forward as his grip eased, his hands followed the shape of my waist until the comforting touch was gone. He took the jacket and laid it out on the rock, laying down on half of it. I sat down next to him on the jacket as well.

“Do you feel any better now?” He asked after a moment of silence, my eyes focused on the river. The last couple of days have been rough, not only was I feeling homesick for New York, it had also officially been six months since the accident. It was all overwhelming, especially with Erin giving me a hard time.

I let out a breath before answering, “Yeah, thanks for this,” I said turning to look at him, he smiled and nodded, his arms followed behind his head. Whilst I knew a part of him took me here to make me feel better, I knew it was so that he could get away for himself too. We weren’t running from reality exactly, but taking a break.

“You know what my mom used to say?” I said laying down beside him, he turned on his side, leaning his head against his arm so he was looking down at me, “she always said that it’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply,” I put a hand over my brows to guard them from the sun, and so I could see his face, hoping he understood what I was saying, I was here if he needed to talk. No matter how much he was hiding behind his persona I knew that he cared.

He nodded and laid back down, taking a deep breath. It didn’t feel like we were there for that long with the sun glimmering on our faces, it wasn’t until a call from Katherine came through that I realized that we’d been here for well over an hour.

“We should probably get back, mom does not like it when we don’t make it home for dinner,” he said getting up and offering me his hand. I squinted my eyes but reached for the help, of course he pulled back his hands ever so slightly. I shooed him away and went to get up myself.

“I’m not falling for that again,” I laughed.

“Oh come on I’m sorry,” he pulled that face where his eyes were the center of the universe it was truly quite mesmerizing. I reached my hand out again grabbing his jacket in the other and passing it to him. I walked a few steps ahead and he put it around my shoulders and we walked back to the car.

***

Underneath all the tissue paper there lays the small, beautiful music box that Parker accidentally knocked over; it was no longer smashed to pieces. I opened it and immediately the little figurine inside started to swirl around and a low song started to play.

I could feel the tears beginning to build in my eyes, my lips shaking. I closed the box and pulled it close to myself, arms around it tightly. The quote was right, these feelings were a blessing and a curse. They made me feel happy and good but on the other hand I feel like I’m betraying one for another.

“So, Y/n are you going to make me this famous hot chocolate of yours?” Cole says from the bottom of the stairs, I push the music box back into the little packages and press the note back at the top laying it back in the exact spot it was before. My heart beating twice as violently as it was before. I try even harder not to make a sound leaving his room.

“Coming!” I whisper-yelled back, in the kitchen now lit up by about a dozen candles it was clear how dark it was outside, I was glad that we managed to clear everything from the yard into the barns before the rain started.

“I’ve got everything prepped,” he said proudly and in the little candlelight it was as if I was seeing his face people for the first time. In the silence, no distractions, and his smile protruding through even the worst of the weather.

“If you take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he retorted, and I looked away with a scoff.

“Yeah, you wish, I guess I didn’t realize how bad it was outside until now,”

“It’ll be alright, it’s predicted to be a minor storm, the ranch has survived much worse. There was this really bad one once when I was about eight. I genuinely thought the wind was going to rip out the foundations of the house, or the rain was going to break through the roof and drown us,” he laughed to himself, pushing the two mugs towards me alongside the chocolate power, milk, vanilla and some other ingredients I asked for.

“I imagine how that could be scary for an eight year old,” I reassure working my magic with my ingredients.

“Don’t worry I’ll keep you safe tonight,” the teasing in his voice clear, he took a step towards me his face beside mine but I focus on the coco powder. It just feels like every time we could be having a moment, something vulnerable and real he disconnects. He’s said he’s a flirt and maybe that’s just that- but then what about the note and my music box?

“Haha you’re just so funny, are you just trying to hide the fact that you’re still scared?” I retort, keeping my composure, pushing his face away with one of my hands, he takes a step back and laughs shaking his head.

“Whatever makes you feel better New York,” he comments watching me heat up the milk.

He holds both our mugs as we make our way into the living room, it’s even prettier in here, he’s started the fire and lit up all the candles around it. I can’t help but give him a smile, there’s a spot perfect for the two of us.

“Go on try it,” I prod after we sit down, he looks down in the mug first and smells it, “I’m not trying to poison you if that’s what you think,”

“Alex would like it if you were,” he laughs lifting the mug to his lip, he takes a big sip and licks the whipped cream off of his top lip.

“Don’t say stuff like that, you guys may fight but you’re brothers it’s bound to happen, but you care for each other and I know he would protect you with all he’s got,” I assure him, he doesn’t say anything back to this, he avoids the subject like the plague even when he’s the one who brings it up.

“This-,” he says instead, looking down at the mug in his hand again, I couldn’t read his face if I tried, one of his brows raises for a split second as if he’s trying to organize all his thoughts about the chocolate. I know that it’s good but, in this moment, I’m metaphorically sat on the edge of my seat, eager to know his thoughts. “Is amazing, sweet and spicy at the same time, who the hell came up with this?”

The second those words come out of his mouth I feel myself beginning to be able to breathe again, the tension in my shoulders dissipates and I reach for my mug, “I did tell you, have some more confidence in me Cole,” I announce proudly and take a sip of the angelic drink.

His eyes watched me, I could feel his stare everywhere on my body, as if he was actually trailing his fingers over my skin.

I put the mug down, half gone already, Cole let out some sort of laugh and shifted closer to me, his hand reached towards my face, and I was frozen. My eyes watching his and his watching mine. Almost automatically my body and face shifted towards him. A smirk quired up on one side of his mouth. He brushed his thumb across my top lip.

“You had a bit of… whipped cream,” he said moving back just enough to show me, he licked it off his finger. Were either of us to move even slightly we could break the distance between us.

I’m scared. Sat here with him like this feels like a fever dream, like any second a sudden move could shatter this illusion, because this couldn’t be real, any second he’s going to pull back with some sort of snarky comment, and I’ll look like a fool.

But he wasn’t moving, and neither was I.

“I saw the music box, you fixed it,” I whispered into the space between us, my voice sounding as though it could break any moment.

“Nothing is ever too broken to be fixed, that’s something else your mom used to say right?” he whispered back, the shadows of the candles and the fire danced across his face.

“I hope you know how much that means to me. Thank you.” I was raw and honest, even with the things between us left unsaid, for the better, he deserved this, “For the music box, for my mom’s quotes, for letting me see the glimpses of the real you,” with each word my heartbeat sped up.

“I would do anything for you if you let me,” He murmured as if speaking any louder would smash this fragile thing happening around us right now. The tip of his finger grazes across my cheekbone, his eyes follow the line. I never feel his touch, just the ghost of it, sending shivers through my body that I try my best to keep from showing.

I scan his face, every beautiful angle and feature that makes him perfect, just the way he is.

I want to. I want to let him in so badly, to let him know every corner of my heart, I want to be fully immersed in whatever this is we’re building here, for him to have me, for me to have him but all that comes out is, “I want to,” because the foundations were building here are rocky and not stable.

His gaze shifts from my one eye to the other then to my lips and again.

“But you can’t because of…” he lets out so quietly I almost miss it

“I don’t have any feelings for him Cole,” there was a shift in his expression at my words, a guilty smile, “but he’s your brother, he’s one of my closest friends and he lives here too, this isn’t just about us, there’s your family,” I argue, but my excuses are sounding weak even to myself.

He moved closer, his knee touching mine, his breath warm.

Without further thought I laced my arms around his neck, running my fingers from the sides to the back pulling him close. A simple kiss, which did not last long enough. It was short, controlled. I pulled back realizing what I had just done. Maybe we just needed it out of our systems.

Still no words were exchanged, we just looked at each other. I knew I needed to move, to get up and out of the room but when his hand found its way to my forearm and pulled me towards him, I just gave in.

His hands explored my neck, cheeks and hair as the kiss became more passionate. I could feel my cheeks glowing a bright red, thankful it would be too hard to see in this light. Finally, he settled them on either side of my face whilst one of my hands found its place on his neck, the other exploring the honey-blonde hair on the nape of his neck.

I don’t know how long we were kissing but when he pulled away to look at me I knew it hadn’t been long enough. Both our chests heaving, me certain that my heart was about to give out. It felt so right I couldn’t let this slip away from me.

I grabbed onto his neck and pulled him towards me again. The kiss wasn’t rough, but it was filled by a burning need. All those months of the back and forth, the uncertain, the toying around the subject and now finally. Finally, I got to feel what this burning passion meant. What I’ve never felt with anyone else.

His hand one hand travelled to my neck, his thumb brushing comfortingly, his other pulling me towards him, I don’t know how much closer we could get until he was pulling me onto him. My legs on either side of his body. Chest to chest. Only clothes between us.

“Cole,” I whispered when his mouth travelled down my jaw to my neck kissing every inch of exposed skin. He paused cautiously, checking with his eyes that I was okay, that he wasn’t taking it too far. I nodded entangling my hand in locks, the hot chocolate long forgotten.

It was a euphoric feeling until my heart stopped when we heard the door open. I pushed off his lap and he helped me up.

“Hey, are you guys alright the lights aren’t-” Alex stopped when he made it to the doorframe to the living room, his eyes quickly found mine, then Cole’s, he hadn’t seen anything, no one would know, but even just seeing us here together, surrounded by candles could give anyone the impression.

“The storm blew out the electric box,” I said, my walls building right back up, keeping this eye contact while I could see the hurt in his eyes was more painful than I could have imagined but I couldn’t look away, then he’d know something had in fact happened. The light came back on with a click in the hallway.

“It’s because of the storm, what happened?” George asked walking into the living room, Katherine beside him, she gave me a weak smile.

“I’m going to check up on the kids, you guys make sure all the candles are blown out, let’s not start any fires tonight,” she added a cheerful tone and a chuckle but the still the tension in the room could probably be cut with a knife. Whether she meant literally or metaphorically I agreed with her, I did not want anything to explode between these two Walter boys.

“She managed to get it to work for a few minutes, but it gave out again, we thought it would be safer to leave the box alone,” Cole confirmed to his dad who nodded in agreement. I didn’t look at Cole as he volunteered to help his dad with the candles in the kitchen.

I thought Alex would say something when we were left alone. It looked like he really wanted to say something, but he just shook his head slightly and ran upstairs. I bit into my bottom lip and closed my eyes. It’s not like I hadn’t told him that I didn’t feel the same way, still the guilt washed over like a destructive wave. I took a deep breath and after a second started to blow out the candles before heading up to my bedroom.

***

I tossed and turned every few minutes in my bed for what felt like hours. I heard someone come out of their room half an hour ago, I assumed it was one of the Walter’s going to the toilet, but the person went downstairs, and was yet to come back up. Something in me knew it was Cole, he probably couldn’t sleep like me.

After another few restless minutes, I let out a huff and sat up in bed. All of the emotions were still buzzing and brewing inside my body. I threw my comforter off me and put on a hoodie and some outdoor slippers. Before I knew it, I was tip-toeing my way downstairs hoping I was doing a better job than whoever had gone down before me.

Walking out the front door I could see the beginning of the sunrise, at what looked like the other end of the world, out there in the fields the first sights of amber and yellow were rising out of the grass in the horizon.

I spotted Cole immediately sitting on the railing looking out at the view. The ranch was truly a magnificent sight, it was breathtaking, how could anyone not fall in love with this place just seeing this.

I stepped on one of the weaker wooden panels which let out a single sound, Cole looked around instantly, but the smile that shone on his face mere hours ago was not there now.

“I won’t break my brother’s heart ever again” he starts solemnly, “But I can’t not want you, how could I not?” he looked at me, the tears in my eyes are again threatening to spill. He hopped down and walked over to me. Nothing more said.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, laying his head on top of mine. I laced my arms around his torse, holding him tightly in the quiet of the post-storm, looking out at sunrise like it was a painting in a gallery to be looked at for hours.

“Your mom was right when she said it’s a blessing and a curse to feel so deeply” he whispered into my hair and I just tightened my hold on him. She was always right, and hell did I wish she was here now to tell me what I can do to make this all stop hurting.

What’s happened can’t be taken back now, the consequences long-term are yet to be seen and I suppose I’ll just have to take it day by day. Navigate this chaos of events and feelings. Hoping that it’ll all work out.

MASTER LIST

[keyboardsmashess]

The Siren, or The Heart of the Matter

Chapter Twenty Six: The File, or Secrets, Sparring, and Escapes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: language, eventual smut, fluff, angst, canon-typical violence, implied abuse MINORS DNI. A/N: Hello, lovelies! CW for heavily implied abuse in this chapter, so please read with care. I'm never going to explicitly state what Cleo went through in her childhood, and that's for a reason that's very important to me. I'm not here to write trauma porn (for lack of a better phrase) - I'm here to write a story about two people figuring out how to live with the things they've been through. We don't need to know exactly what happened to Cleo to be able to understand that story, we just need to know she's been through something major. I don't want the details to become the focus, so you can fill in the blanks in whatever way makes most sense to you. As always, thanks for reading, commenting, liking, following, reblogging, etc. - I love you all <3

Summary: Cleo's secrets are finally revealed, leaving her and Bucky to deal with the fallout.

Chapter Directory

I’m packing for the overnight trip to Culver (since we leave in a few days) when there’s a knock on my door. I’d told Bucky to come keep me company while I packed - he’s been finishing the Harry Potter books and sometimes, when I’m convincing enough, he’ll read them aloud to me - so I head to my door with a grin thinking it’s him.

When I open it, he’s standing there. Next to Nat. I smile, trying not to look surprised or disappointed. “Hey, guys, what’s up?”

Nat’s mouth is a harsh line. “Can we come in?”

“Absolutely.” As they enter, I can’t help myself. “Who died?”

She chuckles, but it’s a humorless sound. “Nobody, yet. I’ve got the info you asked for on your stepdad.”

I nod, blood running cold. “Oh, okay, then.” My voice comes out quiet, small. I sit at the kitchen table and gesture for them to join me. Nat sits directly across from me, laying out a few file folders, and Bucky takes the seat directly to my right. 

“Cleo,” she starts, and from the way she says my name alone - nothing but pity and discomfort - I know that she knows.

“Is he The Philosopher?” I interrupt, forcing my face into a mask of indifference.

“No,” Bucky replies. “He’s not.”

“You’re sure?”

“We’re positive,” Nat says, and I nod firmly.

“Alright then, thanks for doing all that research even though it was a waste of time.” I stand, folding my arms, and pace by the table. “Go team. Should we get some dinner? I’ve been craving bao buns and Tony says -”

Nat moves to stand, to come toward me, but Bucky shakes his head softly, keeping her in her seat. “Cleo,” he says, and hearing that same pity and discomfort from him - in James’ voice - pushes me over the edge. 

I turn my back to the table so they can’t see the tears rolling down my cheeks. “I could go for tacos if you’re not in the mood for bao,” I say, cursing the warble in my voice.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon, Cleo,” Natasha says softly.

I laugh, a tinge of hysteria to it, and wipe my tears before turning to face them. “It’s always taco time somewhere, Nat.”

I studiously avoid Bucky’s gaze, knowing it will set me off again, looking instead at Nat. At the woman who has, quite quickly, become one of my closest friends. Her face is hard, almost as if she’s holding back her own well of emotions, and it helps me keep mine from bubbling up.

She flicks her gaze between Bucky and I, hearing the unspoken as per usual, and stands. “I gotta run, but I’m going to leave these here,” she says, patting the files, “just in case you need them. Cleo, if you need… Well, you know where to find me if you want to.” She moves past me for the door, but pauses just as she reaches it, turning and giving me a hug so quick I’d believe she has superspeed. Before I can even hug her back, Nat is gone.

I sigh and sit, avoiding Bucky’s eyes. “We really don’t have to talk about this,” I say, picking at a fingernail.

He scoots his chair back so he can face me and reaches across the table for the files Nat left behind. “That’s completely up to you, just as soon as I say what I need to say about these files.” His voice is soft and kind and wonderful, and I don’t know if I love it or despise it.

I nod, still looking at my fingers.

“We may not have found anything that ties him to HYDRA, but we found enough to… Well, we know what kind of man he is, now, and these files contain enough evidence to send him to prison. Nat and I talked about it, and -”

I cut him off with a dark, humorless laugh. “Oh great, you guys talked about it. I love that you two are just casually chatting about the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Bucky’s voice doesn’t lose an ounce of softness. “Cleo, you know that’s not what I meant.”

I slam my hands on the table hard enough to sting my palms and stand, turning my back to Bucky once more. “I don’t know that, actually. What I do know is that I explicitly asked you both to only focus on Robert’s life before my mom and I, to avoid anything to do with me, and you both agreed. Now you’ve got files and evidence and you’re saying my name with all this fucking pity, so obviously you went behind my back and did it anyway.”

He stands and puts an arm on my shoulder. “Cleo, I get that you don’t want to go there, and that’s fine. Just let me tell you about the files and I’ll -”

I whip my shoulder from his grasp and turn to face him, eyes blazing and brimming with unshed tears. “You’ll what - you’ll just know this massive thing about my life, now? You’ll never be able to look me in the eye again? I didn’t want you to find any of this because I knew it would change everything. It always does.”

Bucky’s face is pleading. “Cleo, this changes nothing, except now I know you’re even tougher than I thought before.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’m a brave little soldier. So inspiring how I just took off after everything - just ran away. I don’t need your sympathy and I don’t need unearned admiration.”

His mouth becomes a firm line. “Alright then, come with me.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to go anywhere right now - not with you or anyone else.”

He takes my hand - gentle but firm - and pulls me toward the door. “You said you didn’t want sympathy? That’s fine. I’ll give you something else.”

I frown deeply. Maybe I’m simply too tired to fight, because I allow him to lead me out of my apartment and through the hallways and stairwells to the gym. He holds the door open for me and gestures for me to enter. “What are we doing here, James?”

He walks over to the mats and grabs hand wraps from a basket, throwing a set toward me. Wordlessly, but never taking his eyes off mine, Bucky wraps his hands. I sigh, but follow suit and wrap my own. 

When I’ve finished, he takes a sparring stance. “Come on.”

I fold my arms. “What, you want me to hit you? You think this will fix everything?”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, but I do think it’ll show you that I’m tellin’ the truth when I say things aren’t any different between us.” His Brooklyn accent seems stronger, sharper in the heat of his emotion.

I shrug, mirroring him, and we circle each other for a few moments. “Have it your way, I guess.” The look on his face is so sincere that I almost feel guilty for sweeping my leg toward his feet, aiming to knock him to the ground. He may be distracted, but his instincts are next-level and he simply jumps to avoid the kick.

I give a frustrated huff, and we continue circling. “It wasn’t your place to go digging into my life.”

He’s clearly not going to make any moves here, so I get more aggressive, aiming an uppercut at his jaw. He dodges it effortlessly.

“Maybe not, but Cleo - what he did wasn’t right. Someone should’ve known a long time ago. And I’m not gonna apologize for caring about you - about what happened to you.”

I freeze, shocked at his words, and he takes advantage of my surprise to bring his arm around, gently tapping the side of my head with his fist. “Hit,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “That’s exactly what I mean - now that you know, you only see what happened to me. You only care about what happened to me.”

I feint with an arm to one side and land a kick to his solar plexus with my opposite leg, significantly less gentle than his tap. It doesn’t phase him at all, but my foot kind of smarts.

He shakes his head. “Stop puttin’ words in my mouth - that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

He repeats the leg-sweeping maneuver I tried earlier, but he’s so fast it’s successful. He reaches down a hand to help me, but I slap his hand away and get up on my own. I glare at him, shoving his chest. He backs up a few paces, eyes wide. “I’m pulling from experience, so don’t act like I should believe you won’t be different now, because I can’t know that. I can’t trust that. You have no idea what it’s like to -”

Bucky cuts me off, eyes narrowing. I can see a flush rising in his cheeks. “To what, Cleo? To walk around with this mountain of shame on my shoulders - shame that ain’t even mine to feel in the first place? To be stared at like I’m a goddamn charity case, some broken fuckin’ toy?” He throws his arms wide, hands spread. “To have someone take control of my body and my mind and force me to do things that’ll haunt me for the rest of my life?”

Bucky’s chest heaves as he breathes hard, and I pale instantly. “Shit, James, I’m sorry. I -” I reach a hand in his direction, but can’t let myself touch him. Not yet.

He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck. “No, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have gone off like that.” He sighs. “I’m just tryin’ to say that even though we lived through different shit, I can understand at least part of what you’re going through. And you can trust that I won’t look at you any different, because to me you’re always gonna just be Cleo, the woman I -” He cuts himself off, running a hand roughly down his face. “My friend.”

I nod, swallowing thickly. “Okay.” I meet his eyes for the first time since he entered my apartment, and what I find there feels like home.

He nods back. “Okay.”

“Okay.” My voice is no louder than a whisper as I step closer to him, narrowing the space between us to just a few inches, sparring long since forgotten. “What did you and Nat talk about?”

Bucky sighs deeply. It sounds like relief. It sounds like refuge. “We figure there are three options, and it’s up to you to pick one.” I nod, and he continues. “Option one, we burn those files and never talk about any of this ever again.”

“Option one sounds good.” He cuts me a look, but there’s no heat in it. I smile softly, biting my lip. “Sorry, go on.”

“Option two, the cops in your hometown come into work one day to find they’ve been given an anonymous tip, they arrest Robert, and he goes to prison - ideally forever.” I hum in thought, and he continues. “And option three, we burn the files and… we take matters into our own hands.”

My eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What does that mean?”

He gives me a duh, Cleo look. “Nat and I both know how to make people disappear without a trace. So we do that, and maybe it hurts real bad in the process.”

I sigh deeply, rubbing at my face. “I used to dream about option three. Literally - I would have dreams about it.” Bucky looks like he understands me completely. “But I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. To be honest, I don’t know what I want.”

He reaches out and takes my hand in his, my skin tingling at the contact. “We both figured you’d want some time to think about it - take as much as you want. And for what it’s worth, Nat’s not gonna treat you any different, either.”

I give him a sad smile. “I hope you’re right.” I exhale a shaky breath, wiping at the corner of my eye. “Is it crazy that - that I’m disappointed Robert isn’t The Philosopher?”

Bucky smiles crookedly, obviously trying to brighten my mood. “Cleo, we established a long time ago that you’re plenty crazy. But no, I don’t think that particular thought is.”

I can’t help but smile back, but it’s watery and temporary. “I just think it�� it would’ve been easier, if he was part of some giant evil organization. Maybe everything he did would make more sense, then.”

Bucky studies me, really processing what I’ve said before responding. “I definitely get what you mean, but I also don’t think somethin’ like that ever makes sense.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I think I wanted him to be this supremely evil villain, and instead he’s just some guy who did some really shitty things. It’s harder to put just some guy in a box, y’know?”

Bucky smiles sadly. “I’ve run into a lot of supremely evil villains in my extended life. Hell, I was one for a while - albeit against my will. And the thing about ‘em is that underneath it all, under the masks and the secret organizations and the big plans, every one of ‘em is just some guy.”

I nod thoughtfully, and he continues, moving his hand from my arm to my shoulder and squeezing gently, comfortingly. “Doesn’t make what they did any less evil, of course. But I think if we try to put ‘em all in a box like that, we run the risk of forgetting that they’re just people, and that people do pretty evil stuff sometimes. I think forgetting that dulls the impact a bit, and that’s not fair to the people they hurt.”

I stare at him, at his clear blue eyes and strong jaw and kind, kind face. “You’re pretty smart, you know that, Barnes?”

He chuckles. “Smart, old, potato, tomato.”

I laugh and grasp the forearm of the hand he has resting on my shoulder, gripping it firmly. “No, really. You’re very smart, and very kind, and I… I’m just really glad I met you.” I smile softly.

He gazes into my eyes searchingly, and I can barely hear him when he finally speaks. “I’m just really glad I met you, too.”

Whatever passes for my heart skips a beat as I realize how close the two of us are standing, how easy it would be for me to close my eyes and the space between us in one simple movement. Bucky’s pupils dilate and his eyebrows raise just a fraction, and I wonder for a moment if he’s had the same realization.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a millisecond and take a step back out from under his hand, coughing uncomfortably. I think I see Bucky’s face fall, but he’s back to his usual casual mask so quickly I think I might have imagined it.

He clears his throat, unwinding his hand wraps. I start to do the same. “Are we good?” he asks, avoiding my eyes.

I try to force my face into a normal smile, but based on Bucky’s expression I suspect it comes out at least mildly worrisome. “Yeah, Buck, we’re good. Totally fine. Perfectly normal. Well, as normal as a very old supersoldier and cosmic energy host can be.” I take the wraps from him and toss both sets back in the basket.

He chuckles, finally meeting my eyes, and I find understanding there. “Hey, what was that show you mentioned the other day - the one you said would eventually emotionally devastate me?”

I freeze for a moment - at war with myself. On the one hand, I want nothing more than to take this white flag he’s offering me, go back to his room, and enjoy another night in front of the TV with one of my favorite people. On the other hand, after everything we’ve just talked about… Well, I don’t want his pity. I don’t need his pity. 

I smile at him, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Don’t you think we’ve had enough emotional devastation for one day, Buck?” I say, passing him on my way to the door of the gym. I don’t turn to look - not wanting to see his reaction - as I pause at the door. “Try to get some sleep tonight, yeah?”

******

Bucky makes his way toward his room in silence, head pounding with the weight of the last few hours. Cleo’s rejection stings, but really he can’t blame her. He just dropped a bomb on her life - on whatever tentative thing they’ve been building - so of course she doesn’t want to just go back to his room and watch a stupid television show. Of course he’d be the last goddamn person she’d want to spend time with.

He finds himself at Steve’s door instead of his own, as he does on many lonely nights - well, did, before he and Cleo started their little insomniac club. Bucky shakes his head to erase the thought and knocks on his friend’s door.

Steve answers immediately. “Buck? What’s wrong?”

He enters wordlessly, waiting until he’s taken his usual spot on one of Steve’s overstuffed, floral armchairs to speak. “I fucked everything up.”

Steve sits opposite him with a kind, open expression. That’s the kind of guy Cleo’s going to end up with, Bucky thinks to himself. Someone cheerful, and open, and easy, and kind. Not someone damaged - not someone like me. 

Steve waves his hand in front of his friend’s face. “Earth to Buck - whatever awful things you’re thinking about yourself, knock it off and talk to me.”

Bucky sighs. He really doesn’t deserve Steve, if he thinks about it. But he knows he’s a selfish bastard, so he’s going to bother the guy anyway. “I fucked things up with Cleo.”

Steve’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “I didn’t know there were things to… to mess up.”

Bucky chuckles. Steve is nothing if not consistent. “There weren’t - aren’t. Not really. We’ve just been watching movies together for a while, since neither of us are very good at sleeping. We’re friends, I guess.”

“But,” Steve says, eyes full of knowing. “You want it to be something more than that.”

“I dunno,” Bucky says, waffling to obscure the truth of his feelings. But it’s Steve, and Steve always knows, somehow, so… “Yeah, I guess. Maybe.”

“So what happened?”

“I…” Bucky trails off, wanting to keep as much of Cleo’s privacy intact as possible. “I found some things out about her past. And before you ask -” he holds up a hand to stop Steve’s incoming questions. “It’s her story to tell you if she decides to - I’m not going to fuck things up any more than I already have.”

“Alright, I can respect that.”

“So I found these things out,” Bucky continues. “Things she didn’t want anyone to know. And now she says the way I look at her has changed, and I thought I’d fixed it - I thought I’d convinced her that nothing’s changed at all. But when I asked if she wanted to watch something with me tonight, y’know - like we’ve been doing lately, she just told me to get some sleep.”

Steve hums in thought. “Maybe she needed some space.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Bucky scratches the back of his neck. “But it felt like she just didn’t want to be around me.”

Steve nods. “Okay, so maybe she didn’t. Maybe you finding out… whatever it is you found out, maybe it has changed things between you. And maybe that’s hard for her.”

Bucky shakes his head vehemently. “It hasn’t, though - it hasn’t changed anything.”

Steve levels a flat look at his best friend. “Buck, sometimes things change, whether we want them to or not. You can’t take back knowing whatever it is you know, but you can at least be honest with her and try to figure out where you go from here.”

Bucky sits back in his seat, reeling. Sometimes things change, whether we want them to or not. He shoots up, standing abruptly. “Steve, you’re the smartest punk I know.”

Steve smiles up at him. “And you’re the dumbest jerk I know. You gonna go make things right?”

Bucky nods, striding for the door. “I’m going to try.”

[unsiredtribrid]

I feel like so much of the theme of TBOSAS for Coriolanus and even Lucy Gray is choice. Like do you choose to humanize and have empathy for the people suffering on the other side, or do you become fearful and choose yourself always?

I think the burden of interpreting Lucy Gray that’s left on the shoulders of the reader is partly a test in and of itself. Like do you believe Billy Taupe’s accusations about her character, who was as fearful as Coryo and wanted Lucy Gray to die along with him (just the same as Coryo did in the end when he shot at her after he thought he was poisoned by the snake)? Or do you take Tigris’s interpretation where she thinks Lucy Gray is someone trying her best and doing what she has to in traumatic circumstances that are trying to get her killed?

Coryo also favored Tigris’s interpretation closer to the beginning of the book— he even joined Tigris and stood up for Lucy Gray’s character in the face of the Grandma’am’s bigotry. And he really did believe it, too. But then as the book goes on and he’s groomed and then put into situations where he has to choose between his own fear and being more empathetic, he lets fear win. He starts questioning if Lucy Gray is just using everyone (in that case, men) around her, which also mirrors how Billy Taupe spoke of her.

In the end, both men did choose that they would rather have her dead than not have her at all. Which, to me, when you compare that with the things Lucy Gray has actually actively done so far, is a pretty strong indicator that Tigris’s views are the ones that are more ‘correct’.

No, we can’t see into her head. Yes, she probably started out flirting and using her charm to try and get a shot at surving the games (which is one of the most appealing things about her character). But how do you as the reader interpret that? Do you think it’s someone doing what they have to to survive, or do you think of it more negatively and see her as a liar or someone you just can’t trust? In good faith and conscience, you would look at it and say that using one’s charms on the people of the Capitol to try to escape being killed by the Capitol is absolutely 100% fair game and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that at all. In fact, it’s what people should be doing. In some respects, like with all performing, it becomes genuine connection and it moves people to understand you even if it started out ‘fake’. No one criticized or took issue with it when Peeta did it. And in the exact same way, it didn’t make Peeta less empathetic and kind to people of the Capitol who weren’t directly involved in what was happening to him. You as the reader can choose to believe that of Lucy Gray, just like you did with Peeta (even if, in Peeta’s case, you saw actual evidence of it since you weren’t reading from an unreliable narrator with limited perspective).

Whether Tigris is ‘right’ about Lucy Gray is almost irrelevant. What is relevant is the decision, as the reader, to assume the best in her and treat your opinion of her with empathy and the benefit of the doubt. That’s what Coryo should have done at the end of the book, but he didn’t. That’s part of the over arching theme about treating other people better and not dehumanizing them or assuming the worst in fear and paranoia.

Regardless of the fact we don’t get much time with her and we can’t see her inner monologue, what we do see Lucy Gray do isn’t anywhere in the ball park of what Snow ends up doing at the end and then after. Lucy Gray puts a snake down Mayfair’s dress to freak her out, but even that wasn’t something fatal. Mayfair was fine and she lived up until she was killed by Coryo. Lucy Gray stood up for herself against Billy Taupe (not to say there aren’t nuances to how their relationship probably became rocky off the page, before we’ve met either of them. I’m sure there are, even if we’ll never know them), but there’s no indication his claims are true. All we have is Lucy Gray’s word. She claims that she flirted a little as part of the job, but that’s all it was. She says she didn’t do sex work to survive, but openly admits she would if it meant keeping Maude Ivory alive. And that’s without including the other nuances of that conversation, which would be that she was 16 (and younger) and ‘sex work’ here would really be rape because it would likely involve men. So? Assuming anything less than savory because of Billy Taupe’s implications there just seems pretty dark/fucked up.

But back on track, my point: as the reader, do you choose to believe her, or are you paranoid? Do you choose to look at all of the situations she’s in and think she’s a survivalist using her charms and wit, or do you think she’s malicious in some way? How you think of her with little information is important and just kind of feels like its own test and thought exercise.

Even if she set the snake on Coryo, it wasn’t a poisonous one so it was little more than a distraction and maybe a way to get him to worry about that instead of chasing her. Even when she had suspicions he could kill her, she chose to use her smarts to flee and (maybe) survive. But in contrast, Coryo chose to try and finish her off because he didn’t like how his heart broke at the thought of her not ‘caring enough’ about what they have to even have a goodbye before he left. He hated the loss of control of the situation. It was part of the reason why he ended up involved in the rebel plot and killing Mayfair— he was obsessive over Sejanus and needed to feel like he was in control of him in some way. He needed to know what he was doing. And in some ways that was out of genuine love and care, but in some it was fear. And the fear is what made him choose betrayal when he got himself in that situation where he was surrounded by jabberjays and Sejanus was openly talking about a rebel plot that could get them both executed. He chose betrayal to save his own skin because he was scared. He wanted control and then he didn’t have the guts to go as far as he needed to, so he chose his own life. Same thing with Lucy Gray when he fired that gun. He was scared of the unknown factors. Started worrying about her killing him or telling on him and all sorts of things because he was scared and he chose not to believe in her.

Will we ever know if Lucy Gray actually cheated on Billy Taupe? No. Will we ever have more than her word? No. Will we ever know if she was truly attracted to Coryo at the start of their flirtation or if that was 100% a tactic until she caught feelings later? No. Will we ever know if she set the snake on purpose or even if she knew it was venomless? No, not really. But that’s not the point. The point is, do you look at her actions laid out in front of us and choose to believe the best in her? Do you choose to be empathetic and see the situation from her perspective despite being directly in the head of the main character who was groomed (and scared) until he descended into madness?

Someone once said that the difference between everlark and snowbaird’s dynamic is Katniss and Peeta were willing to die for each other before they even knew if the other had definitive feelings for them that they could control. They loved each other even when they didn’t know the other’s exact feelings or their perspective. They were even directly posed to kill each other in the games because originally only one could survive, so they actually had every reason to choose paranoia and didn’t.

This ability to choose good faith seemed to persist even after Peeta was hijacked. But with snowbaird, Coryo had to ask Lucy Gray if it was real before he saved her life (in the movie, at least. In the book it was less cut and dry and he wondered if it was one sided in the midst of his feelings unfolding and far before he cheated to save her). Coryo even says himself to Lucy Gray that he knows his jealousy and the way he wanted her to be thinking about him (and be into him), is stupid. Because it is— she’s in a life or death situation fearing for her life and it would be a miracle for her to have time to figure out or even have a crush on someone when she’s about to die and every ounce of energy is put into both that and the fact she’s locked in an actual cage. It is actually stupid for him to be jealous over that.

But again, as the reader, (to flip the script for a second and talk about Coryo’s side) do you interpret this as Coryo being a complete piece of shit who doesn’t care about her at all and is ‘sociopathic’ for worrying about how she feels about him in this situation? Do you think them having feelings at all is just completely trivial in the face of a life and death situation where she has more to worry about? Or do you choose to believe that Coryo is a teenager here who has grown up living in situations where his life hasn’t been safe and he’s been starving, so that’s just the norm for him at this point, and it’s actually beautiful that he was able to feel something like a crush or love in the midst of something actually traumatic? Even though the tributes have it much worse, the Academy kids have been groomed into this worldview and have been dying (and just generally being hurt and traumatized) during this program that the adults devised in order to test/‘perfect’ their own war crimes and fascism.

But to circle back to the snowbaird and everlark point, there’s a huge difference in perspective that the ships had here and the outcomes/results were completely different. Snow didn’t find peace. He was paranoid and bitter and awful. Katniss and Peeta had to work at it but they could find moments of peace because they chose to believe.

I’m a snowbaird shipper and not an everlark shipper (soz, they just don’t give me buzz 😔) because I personally find alllll of these things about Coryo and Lucy Gray to be really fascinating and I think they have insane chemistry. I also think it’s sort of like a Greek tragedy, in a way. It feels like they had a lot stacked against them, even their very personalities, but despite that they did feel real love. And I think that’s beautiful.

But I wanted to talk about all of this because people discuss Lucy Gray a lot in terms of if she was ‘manipulative’ and sometimes people even just flat out put blame on her, which… I don’t even know how to address that because it’s very hard for me to understand how they could read the book and come to that conclusion in any way. But yeah, these are my thoughts on it and just generally the technique Suzanne used for Lucy Gray’s character and how readers engage with that.

[heart-0f-silk]

Captain Killian “Hook” Jones x F!Reader

[Season 3]

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Semi-Public sex, p in v, creampie, caught?

You and Hook have never truly been alone. There was always someone, whether is was Emma, Henry, or the Charmings. Most of the time you guys even saw each other was when something bad happened and now you were on some crazy fairytale mission.

Now here you are, on ANOTHER mission. You and Hook were tasked to go the library and see if you two could meet up with Belle and search around for some information on Zelena.

The silence as we walk is uncomfortable. I decide to finally try and make some small talk. “So, uhm, Killian is your real name..correct?”

“Yes love. That it is, why do you ask?” He looks at me.

“Well I was wondering, I’ve never really heard anyone use it before..any particular reason why?”

“Well it’s probably because of my reputation, that and I tell most that they may as well call me Hook.”

“Oh..not as exciting as I thought..”

“What? Did you think I’d have some dark backstory besides the fact I loss my hand?” He gives me a smirk.

“No…well maybe. You are a pirate.” I kinda laugh, but it was just nervous laughter. Why is this so hard for me? We’ve spent plenty of time together, we’ve worked together, especially in neverland. So why do I struggle so much with this?? I guess it doesn’t matter, we need to focus on Zelena.

“Well, I am full of surprises, Love.” He continues his smirk towards me, but I didn’t even notice. I tried just focusing on Zelena and what she could be up to. “Something on your mind, love? You seem to be almost bursting a vein.” I hear his chuckle, “oh! Uhm just thinking about Zelena Y’know…”

“No, I believe there’s something else..what is on your mind?” Before I can even think of an answer we are already at the library. “Oh! Were here! Lets uhm.. go find Belle!” I rush inside. Why am I so nervous to answer his question? There’s nothing particularly wrong?.. I mean, it’s just I’m truly thinking about him.. is that why I can’t answer? Why am I suddenly feeling so..flustered about all this?

My mind is running on and on about Killian I completely ignore the confused Belle standing infront of me, “Hellooooo, are you listening?” I snap out of it as I hear her sweet accent. “Oh sorry, uhm. We just came to see if maybe we could find some information about our witch problem.”

“I see, I’m afraid I haven’t checked and I do have somewhere to be, me and Rumple are going out so- anyways, you’re free to look around! I’ll leave a key on the desk, please be sure to lock the doors oh your way out!” Belle finishes putting on her scarf and purse and then rushes out the door. “Well, it seems it will just be us two, love.” “So it seems..” why am I so sweaty all of a sudden?.. my heart rates also increased… “We should probably start looking today.” I snap out of my thoughts once again to Killians voice, “Y-yes, your right. I’ll start over there in section E-G, you can go from A-B.”

“And I thought I was a captain..look at you bossing me around.” Killian chuckles as he walks through the isles, pushing books sloppily with his hook.

After about 20-ish minutes of searching me and hook ended up meeting in the middle on the same isle. Both facing opposite directions. The space between the isle wasn’t forgiving, I could smell the natural musk and rum from Killian. It was so..intoxicating. While scanning through books I saw a red cover reading ‘the truth of your feelings’. Something about the book made me flip open to the table of contents. That’s when I see a chapter of the name ‘why and what is this feeling?’. I flip to the chapter and read a bit. It talks of feelings of intimacy, tension, both romantic and sexual, and a whole catalyst of other things. Most of it sounded familiar..this was how I felt about Killian. I mean, now that I think of it. I’ve always found hook quite attractive, and when he calls me love I feel a shiver go down my spine.

Oh my god.

I have a ‘crush’ on no other than Captain Hook. Right as I was staring off into space from this sudden realization I feel a warm chest seek behind me, pressing against my back. An arm comes over just above my shoulder to meet the bookshelf. “And what so that your reading, love?” Killian snatches the book out my hand and starts reading the contents. “Truth of you feelings, huh.. Do you like someone, love?” His smile is wide as he laughs. I try grabbing the book out of his hands- hand, but he moves swiftly.

“Give it back Killian!”

“I don’t think I will, who is it you like anyway?”

I ignored his question as heat rose to my cheeks. “It doesn’t matter! Give me the book!”

He leaned down to be infront of my face, “Tell me and I will.” I get his breathe on my face, it smelt of rum. I froze for a second before I looked up at him and spoke softly, “Please Killian, we need to find information on Zelena..” his look darkened, I’m not sure with what but he didn’t seem mad..

“And this is information on Zelena? Didn’t know you liked green like that.” He gave a light chuckle and handed me the book. “That’s not- Oh my fucking god. Let’s just keep looking.” I turned away from the smiling pirate and put the book back in its spot.

We continued searching until we found a few books that could be helpful. There was a small desk near the back of the library with a lamp and some bookmarks. I had been sitting in one of the chairs that was with the desk, Killian sat beside me.

“Y’know this is the first time we’ve ever been alone together..”

His eared perked up, “No it isn’t, we’ve been alone on the Jolly Roger.”

“No, Emma, Mary Margaret, and David were all there. I think Regina was aswell.”

“What about at granny’s?”

“Definitely not..” I chuckle.

“Well- what about at the well.”

“Regina and Emma.”

We both have completely set down our books by now and have lost all attention to what we came here to do.

“Wow, I’ve never noticed it seems.”

I don’t know why it stung a bit when he said that but, it did. What was I thinking? I was barely even aware of my own feelings so why is this suddenly so serious? That and everyone knows he pines after Emma Swan. I mean who wouldn’t? She’s beautiful, smart-witted, and resilient even through everything. What have I ever done that’s been of importance? I’m just some..girl. I’ve never done anything that has amount to something. Even back in the enchanted forest, I was no one. I helped Snow hide from the Evil queen for a bit but nothing more. Emma is a savior, the product of true love. How could I even allow myself the fantasy of me and Killian?

“It’s probably because I struggle with keeping my eyes off you so often that it seems that it’s just the two of us.”

I feel my body freeze in place as my eyes widen, “W-what?” Is all I can mutter out. “You’re quite the beautiful woman Love,” He leans in, our noses almost touching, “and I can’t keep myself under control sometimes when you’re around.” I look into his piercing blue eyes. “Then don’t..” I couldn’t even believe what I was saying, it seems I even took Killian by surprise but he leaned right in and kissed me. The kiss was passionate, sweet, and soft. His lips felt slightly chapped but I didn’t mind. The smell of the sea, rum, and desire was overtaking my senses. I broke the kiss first, a string of saliva connecting our mouths. “Please Killian…”

“Please what, Love?”

“Please, touch me more.” I run my hands up over the laces of the leather covering his skin. “Let me touch you more..” my eyes wander down seeing the tiniest bit of chest hair hiding under his shirts. “Are you sure about that love? I wouldn’t want to get in the way of whom ever you liked earlier. Who you were going to speak the truth about your feelings to.”

“No, no, you wouldn’t be in the way..Please.”

“Are you sure? You might have to tell who this lucky mystery person is.”

“Killian…”

“Tell me.” His eyes darken as he felt down my thigh and squeezed. “You..it’s you Killian. I want you.”

“Mm, that’s all you had to say, Love.” He then desperately catches my lips in a sloppy kiss. I hear him moan lightly as I capture it in my mouth. I start instinctively ripping at the laces of the black leather vest. Killian of course noticed and help by taking off his jacket. Before I can continue however he suddenly picks me up from my thighs and sets me on the table. “Much better..” he grabs my lips again in a heated kiss. I continue at his laces before ripping then undone, “gentle love.” He smiled at me. “Sorry..”

“Don’t be, I do like you needy.” He slightly chuckled when he spoke sending another wave of heat to my cheeks. He’s somehow still just as adorable as he is handsome. “You are beautiful..” I couldn’t help but hold his face in my hands, feeling his pokey gruff and soft skin. “No, you’re the beautiful one, love” I smile and for a moment and forget the world around us. This, this is all I ever wanted. This happiness. I leaned in and kissed him softly and he equally kissed me just as soft and sweet as ever. Is this what true love feels like? Maybe love is overzealous and a much to strong word for something so young but, I truly am so happy.

I feel his hands slowly make their way up my body till they were at my breasts. He fondles and massages them lovingly. The kiss gets increasingly more eager and hungry. “Allow me to take this off?” I feel him grabbing the bottom of my shirt, almost ripping it off with the sheer force of his grip. “Go ahead.” I didn’t have to tell him twice, he took it off so quickly I almost fell off the desk.

I feel the cool metal of his rings caress my now naked skin. He slides his hand around to the back of my shirt and uses his hook to snap my clasp. It slightly smacks my back making me shiver, but it strangely felt so..satisfying. He uses his hook to slide off my bra from my shoulders. I watch as Killian then continues to take off his hook and sets it on the table beside me. He leans down and begins kissing my neck and collarbone, peppering me in soft kisses. The feeling almost tickles then he continues further down to my breasts. He then circles his tongue around my bud before taking it into my mouth. He uses his hand to grope my other breast, “Mmph” I moan but conceal it by using my hand to cover my mouth. “No, don’t you dare cover those darling sounds.” I feel him pitch my nipple at this sentence, I squeak from the pleasure. “Mm-more, please~” He smiles at me before taking a set back.

“Are you sure about this, Love?”

“Yes. 100%”

“Oh, thanks the gods-“ He quickly rushes to my lips once more grabbing my face and hungrily smashing his lips into mine. “Mmph- this isn’t fair, you still have your mm- shirt on-“ I try catching my breath in between rough kisses. Quickly breaking the kiss Killian pulls his shirt over his head and goes straight back to kissing me. His hands go straight to the hem of my skirt trying to yank it off my body. I giggle at his actions and help him, taking my panties off with them to make everything much easier.

After I do I finally look up to see Killian’s face, he’s stepped back now just staring at me in awe. “What’s the matter?” I giggle into my sentence. “You are so, beautiful. You’re perfect my dear..” I shy away from his words when I feel him come in between my legs once again and take my chin into his hand. “Hey, look at me. You’re the most gorgeous woman I know, seen, touched. Don’t you shy away from that.” I feel his finger find their way to my hair as he leads my head into another deep kiss. I pull Killian in by the belt and unbuckle it. I pull it out of the loops and let it drop to the floor.

“Pants, please.”

“Yes ma’am”

Killian takes a pause and unbuttons his pants and unzips them, pulling them down along with his boxers. His cock was practically touching his stomach, leaking with sticky pre-cum. It was a decent width but very long. I was so mesmerized I didn’t even realize I was staring. “I’m glad you like the view, Love-” I looked up embarrassed, my face hot & most likely red. “But my eyes are up here.” He lifts my chin up with his hand again. I stare into his sparking blue eyes as they glimmer with lust & desire.

His hand goes from my chin down my neck and he gently squeezes. I a choked moan escaped from my lips when he did so. “Oh, do you like that Love?”

“Mm Mmhm~” I look up at him with pleading eyes. “Do you want it darling?” All I do is nod my head. “Words. lovely”

“Yes. Yes, please Killian. I want it- I want you so bad.”

“I didn’t even have to ask you to beg, such a good girl~”

I felt my core melt at his words, I was practically oozing with arousal. “Please, please give your cock to me, please.” I continue pleading with both my eyes and words. “If you wish, Love.” With that I feel his tip aline with my velvet folds. “Are you ready?” I eagerly nodded my head to the question.

I feel the head enter inside and before I know it I’m taking inch by inch as Killian whispers all kind of sweet & dirty things in my ear. I slowly become louder & louder as he continues. “Ah~ you were made for me love. You feel so good.” He continued moaning soft grunts in my ear. He had began a stable pace for a while, all I could hear was the wet slops of our juices mixing with one another’s, and his grunts in my ear. I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively. “Y-you are such a good girl for me, Love” The grip he held on my thighs getting rougher, his pace quicker and sloppier, and more erratic. All I could do was let my mouth fall open and let the sounds roll out.

“Yes, j-just like that darling~”

“Ah~ god Killian!~ please, finish inside, fill me up, please, please.” I felt his dick twitch inside me as he slams inside me deeper and harder with each thrust.

“Are you s-sure love?~”

“Absolutely!!~”

“A-as you wish-“ Killian continues slamming into me causing the table to bang against the wall, The lamp has fallen over and the grip moved from my thigh to my throat. Everything felt so good- to good. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I felt the knot in my stomach begin to break and then- stars. That’s all I saw. Pleasure washed over my body causing my legs to shake around Killian’s waist losing strength to keep them wrapped around, but Killian continues pounding into me mercilessly. I still manage to choke out the most pornst⭐️r moans possible as he continues. “T-to- AH~ much!!~”

“C’mon, you can take it love-“ I already feel my own juices dripping from my leg and all over his cock making the wettest of sounds. His cock starts twitching and his moans become louder and thrust more erratic. “God you are amazing~” once he reaches the end of his sentence he cums deep in my cervix, coating my walls white in his sperm.

Both still catching our breaths I kiss Killian’s jaw in soft and sloppy kisses. “You are quite the woman, Love.”

“You not too bad your self.” I retort back, “Your, amazing..”

“As much as I love staring and holding you like this we are in a public library, Love. Door is still unlocked.”

“Oh shit your right- lets get dressed-“ We both quickly grab our clothes off the floor and try to hurrying get dressed when we hear a group come in.

“Hook! Y/N! Are you guys here?” Emma. Shit shit shit, I’m still half dressed.

“Y/N!” And snow. Could this get any worse?

“Where are these bafoons?” And Regina. It can get worse. I finish putting my clothes back on and trying to smooth out the wrinkles and fix my hair. “There you are! What took you two so long to answer-..oh. Seems you two had fun.”

“Listen Regina it’s not what it looks like-“

“I do not care, but we are trying to save storybrooke and more importantly my son so if you could do it on your own time that’d be great.”

“What’s going on over here?”

“Nothing, Emma.”

All I can see is Killian give me a little wink before turning away, pointing to my legs as a small drop of white ran down my leg.

This is my first story 😨 so please be kind. Y’all at the end idk what I was on but it was 9:30pm then 1:25am-

(Also I didn’t proofread I’m so tired 💀)

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower, Book 1, Chapter 32

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Angst AN: Can you believe it's almost done? Book two will come later this year. :)

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

~~~~~<3

Tom was just walking in the door when his phone rang in his pocket. It had been a nerve-wracking journey back to his flat. Back home. In this moment, it didn’t feel like home. It felt cold as worry fueled him. 

“Well?” Tom didn’t waste time with pleasantries. 

“She’s okay. Everyone is okay. I just left the apartment.” Ashley likewise skipped the pleasantries. 

“Okay?” Tom fell hard against the wall as he took what felt like his first breath in the last half an hour. 

“She’s been crying and said it was a rough night.” Ashley hesitated before continuing. “She was talking like you were not coming back. Is- Did something happen?” 

“No, not that I- Would she be one to read tabloids?” 

“About you? Maybe. Is there something in one that would make her think you’re not in this weird ass bullshit marriage with her anymore? Did you do something?” 

“I did nothing wrong.” Tom snapped, cringing back as soon as he realized he was taking his stress out on someone who’s been nothing but fairly kind to him. With great effort, he forced himself to take a deep, slow breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for snapping. Gossip rags can take a small assumption and a wish and make it into something mad. I- I need to go.”

Hanging up, he dialed Luke as he made his way to his laptop. 

“This is Luke.” 

“I need you to clear the week.” Tom didn’t spare any pleasantries for his long-time friend, either. He had his phone pinched between his shoulder and ear as he opened his laptop and hit the power button.

“What’s wrong?” Luke was in friend mode, though Tom could hear him working a keyboard, typing away. 

“I’m not sure. Something with Mia. It’s probably nothing. Fuck, I hope it’s nothing.” While his computer powered on, he opened his suitcase and tossed it on his bed. “She left a voicemail crying and isn’t answering now. I don’t-”

“You can’t just run to America every time your wife has a cry over missing you.” Luke was trying to walk the line between sanity, supporting his friend and doing his job. “You’re going to be away for filming. You’re going to have commitments.” 

“I’m aware. We’ll get there. I just- I think something is wrong.”

“What did she say when you called her back?”

Tom tossed handfuls of clothes into the suitcase. “She didn’t answer. Right to bloody voicemail. Her sister checked on her, though.”

“Her sister checked on her. She is clearly okay, but you’re still going to drop everything and run to her?” There was a hint of a smile in Luke’s voice. As a professional, this was not something he could support. But as a friend and a bit of a romantic himself, it was hard to stay against it. That was what Tom was counting on. 

“I’ll take care of it. When are you taking off?” 

“I haven’t booked a flight yet.” Tom was standing at his laptop. “Figuring that out now.” 

“Keep me updated.” 

~~~~~<3

It was a few hours before Tom could get on a flight, but he had found one that left that evening. Pacing through the airport, Tom passed his time on the phone with his mother between attempts to call Mia again and again. There was only so much his mother could do to keep him grounded while anxiety ate at him.

He had snagged a direct flight to Las Vegas, a bloody miracle he couldn’t be more thankful for. There wasn’t anything he could do to calm his nerves while he was stuck waiting. His neg bounced, and he fidgeted as he attempted to review scripts, email apologies for rescheduled meetings, and beg the universe to allow the plane to fly faster somehow. 

One eleven hour flight later, Tom’s feet were on the ground in Nevada in an airport he was becoming more accustomed to than he ever expected. Anxiety had his stomach rolling through the whole flight, rejecting the concept of food. Sleep didn’t come in anything more than fleeting moments when he had tried. All he could do was wait and waiting felt like it was slowly killing him. 

Memories played in his mind, regardless of if he wanted to think of them. There were fragments of what he could almost remember. There was a white dress that he was sure he could only remember because he saw it the morning after, ripped and discarded on the ground. 

He remembered, or thought he did, the way her soft skin felt against his and the way they smiled at eachother through a lense of alcohol. He had tried again and again to remember the night they got married, but it wouldn’t come, dancing just out of reach of his mind. 

It was just over two months since the wedding he couldn’t remember and he was more terrified now than at any point in the previous two months. It felt like the entire world was crashing down around him. 

Something told him it was over. Everything was over, slipping through his fingers like the memories he couldn’t grasp. They had made it two months out of the twelve he had asked for and it was crashing down around him. What would be left when the dust settled?

Would there be a relationship left? Would there be anything left at all? 

Two months. They had made it two months into what he had hoped would last for the rest of his life. It wasn’t nearly enough. He wanted more. He needed more. 

In these two months, he had fallen in love with Mia and he was kicking himself for not telling her that in no uncertain terms. That’s all he had left to hope for, that he would have time to tell her. 

~~~~~<3

Mia sat at the counter with her shattered phone in her hands. She needed to get it replaced. If she smacked it just right, it would try to power on and pings of missed phone calls or notifications would sound, but as soon as she jostled it again, it would turn off. 

The screen was in ruins, too. Even if she could get it to power on, she couldn’t make or send calls. 

Sally was out with Ashley for the day, a gift from her sister allowing Mia to wallow in her own poor decisions. Mia had taken the day off, using the office phone to call in. She told them she was sick, and that was close enough to the truth for her. 

She was lovesick. Heartsick. Heartbroken. 

She just couldn’t bring herself to go in.

Had Tom called her? What would he have said? Could she bring herself to believe him? Would she? 

~~~~~<3

Tom took the first taxi he could catch. He didn’t care how much it cost or any of the specifics. Without ceremony, he shoved his suitcase in the trunk and folded into the back seat, giving his Nevada address. 

His address. God, he hoped it was still his address. 

While the driver made his way through traffic, Tom’s knee bounced rapidly in the back seat. He was running on nothing but anxiety, caffeine and a few fleeting seconds of sleep. 

He tried Mia’s phone again. It rang for a second before going to voicemail. It was progress; he guessed. She had her phone on, but she didn’t answer. 

What had happened? What had he done? The only thing he could think of was the tabloids. That was the only thing that seamed to make any sense. If he could have just talked to her, if she could have heard the radio interview- snippets of it were being passed around online already, dashing any speculation about the meaning of his missing ring in the minds of most. 

But not all. It would never be all. Of that, he could be sure. But that was the price of his career. 

As the taxi pulled to a stop in front of her building, their building, Tom unbuckled and was handing a few twenty-dollar bills to the driver before they had even really stopped, knowing he was overpaying and not stopping to give a fuck by how much. 

As Tom climbed out, he instructed the man to keep the change as the trunk popped open. The wheels of his suitcase slammed against his shin as he pulled it from the vehicle carelessly. Swearing, he rubbed the pain away as he slammed the truck closed. 

Tom pulled the suitcase behind him toward the building door. Punching in the code, he grabbed it by the side handle and carried lifted it from the ground. There was a wet splotch on the corner of the bag that showed something spilled during the flight. 

Hopefully, it was something that leaked from another bag onto his. If it was the shampoo he had absently thrown in while he was packing in a panic, he would deal with that later.

He realized while pacing the airport that he didn’t actually need to pack a suitcase, but if he was honest, he didn’t think it would have made it any difference if he had realized it before. The only earlier flights he could have taken would have had stops and layovers, getting him moving faster but arriving later. This was the soonest he would have been able to arrive, no matter. 

Tom pressed the call button for the elevator and waited. Not even thirty seconds later, he pressed the button again. And again. And again. 

This was taking too long. Objectively, he knew it wasn’t, but he couldn’t stomach just standing there. Anxiety made it feel like he was going to crawl out of his skin.

Picking his bag up again, he opened the door to the stairwell and began running. Running made him feel better, ever so slightly. It gave him a way to expel his anxiety and accomplish something other than waiting. His feet pounded each concrete step and his breath quickly became pants as the first floor gave way to the second. 

Panic had a nasty way of taking over when you were not looking. Tom’s running became clumsy and frantic as the second floor gave way to the third. Nearly tripping at one point, he scraped his shin against the sharp edge of the step. It stung and he wouldn’t be surprised to find it bleeding if he had cared to stop and check. 

That didn’t slow him down, though. Tom burst through the stairwell door with all the energy of a storm. Or the energy of a panicked rat running from a looming cat. Either fit accurately enough, though one matched the look on his face far better than the other. 

Thankfully, no one was in front of the door, let alone in the hallway. Tom barreled down the hall, his bag slamming against the back of his calfs more than once. He all but collapsed in front of the apartment door, their door. Please still be their door and not just her door. 

His fingers shook as he put in the code as fast as he could. A red light flashed, and the door did not open. Again, he put in the code in a rush and got a red light. He had to have had it right. He must have been just moving too fast, hitting the wrong keys. She didn’t change the code. Please, don’t have changed the code. 

He knocked on the door and tried again. He could hardly control his hands as he hit the keys. It had been years since he had an adrenaline dump like this. 

He wanted to scream and rage at the door as his knocking turned into slapping the door with his open palm. 

“Mia!” He called, finally finding his voice. “Mia!” 

~~~~~<3

Mia was terrified when someone had tried to unlock her door. She wasn’t in the mental space for whatever was going on. Dark circles rested under her red-rimmed eyes. 

Knocking started, and she grabbed the only weapon she could think of in the moment, a frying pan. In hindsight, a knife would have been better, but we can’t all make good decisions under stress. 

Whoever was on the other side tried the lock again and failed to enter the correct code. She wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t have a way to call for the police with her phone down. 

Whatever was going to happen, she was beyond thankful Ashley had taken Sally for the night. Sally would be safe. 

Knocking started again, quickly devolving into frantic pounding as she crept closer to the door. 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite, @tinchentitri, @wizardcherryblossom, @buttercupcookies-blog, @violethaze, @kats72, @soulpiercing, @evedia, @princess-ofthe-pages, @tom-hlover

[kaleldobrev]

Epilogue — Take Me Back Series

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After making a deal to bring you back, Sam doesn't see you until years later when your paths cross during a case

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hi, I just joined Tumblr and came across your blog, it's wonderful! I'd like to make a request, something between Sam and reader. The reader dies and Sam makes a pact to bring her back, but she comes back without remembering him and the hunting life. He thinks it's best to stay away from her. Years later they meet and she falls in love with him all over again, and when they kiss she regains her memory. Do you like it?

Chapter Word Count: 1.1k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (1x), Fluff

Authors Note: Last part of the Take Me Back series! I hope you all enjoyed this 5 part mini-series that was originally supposed to be a one-shot | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Read Chapter Three Here | Take Me Back Masterlist

The car ride to the Bunker was a quiet and awkward one, something that you weren’t really expecting, considering you just regained your memories. You figured that Sam and Dean — especially Sam, would be ecstatic, but he apparently had no idea what to say; basically the man was speechless.

After about two hours of silence, Dean was finally the one to break it. “So, what exactly happened? You two kissed and then poof? Memories regained?”

“Bout sums it up,” you shrugged. “Thought you two would be more excited about me regaining my memories,” you added. Especially you Sam, you wanted to say, but decided against it.

“We are happy that you have your memories back, believe me. But…a lots changed in four years,” Dean said; his comment causing you to raise a brow.

“Like what?” You asked.

“Okay, let me get this straight. Jacks the new God?” You asked, almost in disbelief of what you’ve just heard.

“That’s what you decided to hone in on? Not the fact that your boyfriend here had a fucking beard!” Dean exclaimed.

“To be fair, I’ve been telling him to get a beard for years,” you stated.

Dean turned around briefly, the most disgusted look on his face. “You take that back this instant.”

“Sorry I can’t. I’m not a liar,” you grinned.

“Okay technically you do, cause you used to actively pretend to be a FBI Agent on a somewhat regular basis,” Dean scoffed, turning back to face the road. “Reminds me, when we get back, can you make me one of your cherry pies?”

Sam looked at Dean for a moment, trying to figure out how there was a connection. “How does that remind you of her cherry pies?”

“Because whenever we had a case that was far from home, one of the first things she would do is make her famous cherry pie for me,” Dean said. “Duh.”

“Are you sure you want to keep your memories?” Sam said, turning to face you.

You smiled at him. “What do you think that answer is?”

It’s been four years since you’ve stepped foot into the Bunker, and it felt like nothing has changed. It still had that same smell to it; that old book musty smell combined with Old Spice. “Welcome home,” Dean said, patting you on the back.

Dean looked over at you and his brother; the two of them exchanging thoughtful like looks. “I’ll leave you two kids alone,” he smiled, heading down the metal stairs.

Once Dean got to the bottom of the stairs, Sam looked at you, a slightly nervous smile on his face. “After you,” he said, gesturing toward the stairs.

“Thank you,” you nervously smiled back.

Halfway down the stairs you turned slightly, Sam following closely behind you. “So, I have a question,” you said, nervous to ask what you were about to ask, even though you probably had no reason to be.

“Shoot,” he answered.

“Sleeping arrangements…” you began, very hesitantly. “Can I sleep with you or…”

“Y/N, you know you don’t have to ask me that,” Sam said, almost sounding just as nervous as you had just sounded. He wanted more than anything for you to sleep in his — your — bed again. For the past four years, Sam felt as though he hadn’t been sleeping as good as he could have been. He didn’t realize until you had left, how reliant he had become on you when it came to how well he had slept.

“Okay,” you half smiled.

Upon entering yours and Sam’s bedroom for the first time in over four years, there was still a small sense of familiarity to it. Despite you not being here in over four years, there were still things that were left the exact same way as you had left it. He was still using the same sheets you had bought in order to make the Bunker more homey, pictures of the two of you still were scattered throughout; either hanging on the wall or propped up in frames on the dresser and desk.

You walked over to what used to be your dresser and picked up one of the perfume bottles which was almost empty. “I uh…I sprayed that sometimes in here to…” Sam half chuckled, scratching the back of his bed. “To kind of pretend that you were still here.”

You felt tears start to well up in your eyes and you quickly wiped them away. “You really missed me uh?” You asked him, picking up a picture of the two of you.

“Like crazy,” he said, walking toward you. “I’m sorry.”

You looked at Sam with a confused expression on your face, cocking a brow. “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I should have given you a choice when it came to making that deal; it wasn’t fair for you,” he said.

“Sam,” you began, placing the picture down back on the top of the dresser. “You saved my life. Brought me back to life even. I…I would have made the same deal.”

“You would have?” He asked, a similar looking confused expression on his face.

“In a heart beat,” you confessed.

He gently smiled at you, and scratched the back of his head. Nows a good time as any, he thought. “Open up that drawer there,” he said, pointing to your side table. You looked at the table briefly before looking back at him. “Trust me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, slight hesitation. You walked over to your side table and upon opening it, there was a traditional looking small black velvet box. “Sam…” you trailed off, picking up the box and turning around.

When you turned around, Sam was down on one knee in front of you. “Open it,” he stated. Your heart began to race, as you were actually half afraid to open up the box.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted up the lid just slightly. “This better not be a prank,” you said.

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this,” He said, sounding almost half annoyed. Opening up the lid fully now revealed a small diamond ring. “I’ve held onto that for over four years. I was going to ask you to marry me when we got back from that vamp case in Malibu but…you know…”

“Yes,” you said instantly.

“But I didn’t ask you yet,” he smiled, chuckling a little.

“Oh, sorry,” you nervously chuckled.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” He asked.

“Yes!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him. Taking the ring out of the box, Sam placed the ring on your finger, and you couldn’t help but smile wide from ear to ear. “I have a crazy idea.”

I’ve missed your crazy ideas, Sam thought. “What’s your idea?”

“Let’s go to the courthouse right now. Why wait any longer?” You suggested. “I mean, I love you. And I’m always going to.”

“I’ll go get the keys,” Sam smiled, leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips.

Walking out of the room, Sam felt like for the first time in a long time, that things were working in his favor.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @crystal55 @hannahisthebanana @seamlessepiphany @madzzz0797 @livingordeadwhoknows @writinginfear @roskar16 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @taraswifes @zepskies @fuiabarcelos @foxyjwls007 @sammysnaughtygirl @coldspoons @missscarlettangel @frozenhuntress67 @snakebxtez @crystalandphoebewifey @spnandpj @androah @somebrokeartstudent @nescavaneck If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

[candyshin00]

Deceptive Beginnings - Ch. 6 Wednesday pt. 3 Progression?

A/N - I am finally back to writing after a break! Between being a retail manager during the holidays, getting burnt out from being so busy, and trying to come back to writing once I found the time, it was just all so much at once. I started to get scared to continue writing my story even though it was all I thought about, but I am glad that I willed myself to finish this chapter because I am more motivated now than ever!

p.s. My goal is once this is finished, I will be editing it to turn it into an actual published book! (changing the names of the characters and small details, of course)

Deceptive Beginnings Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Word count - 4.2k

Warnings - angst, medical/fainting issue mention

JK

I can’t wait any longer to tell her just how amazing she was. The performance still lingers in my veins, adrenaline mixing with pride as I weave through the thick crowd. My heart pounds—not from exertion but from anticipation—as I burst through the curtain to the backstage area.

My eyes sweep the room, searching for her. Where is she? I freeze when I spot Taehyung and Yoongi standing in a corner. Their heads are bowed, and their voices are hushed and solemn.

Taehyung looks up first. His face is unusually tense. He waves me over, his hand slow, as though reluctant to break whatever news hangs heavy between them.

Something’s wrong. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach, the excitement in my chest sinking like a stone. Jogging toward them, I blurt out, “What happened?” My voice comes out strained and tight with unease.

Taehyung glances at Yoongi before answering, his voice low. “She fainted. As soon as we got backstage.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, everything around me going silent as my heart slams in my chest. She fainted. My blood runs cold, and for a split second, nothing makes sense.

“What do you mean, fainted?” My chest tightens with every breath, I struggle. The rush of blood in my ears begins to drown out everything else. “Where is she? Is she okay?” I whirl around, my gaze darting, frantic, searching every corner of the room—Where is she?

Taehyung gives a small nod. “She’s fine, for now. It was just too much excitement for her—she’s in the back room, resting on the couch.”

Relief floods through me, only to be snatched away. The knot in my stomach tightens once more, gnawing relentlessly as panic licks at the edges of my mind. “Can I see her?” My voice cracks slightly, coming out higher than I expect, betraying the anxiety under my skin.

Yoongi’s scoff cuts through the room, sharp and bitter. “Why do you want to see her? You’re not her friend. And you sure as hell aren’t her actual boyfriend.”

His words slam into me, cold and unforgiving, sparking a fury that races through my veins. My jaw locks, the muscles in my neck tightening as frustration builds. “I care about her, Yoongi,” I say, stepping forward, close enough that I can feel the tension crackling between us. My voice drops to a low growl, a controlled calm masking the storm roiling underneath. “Contrary to what you might believe.”

Yoongi’s brows furrow, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. “Oh? And now you care?” His voice drips with disbelief. “You’ve been acting like this is some game from the start. What’s your angle, huh?”

He gives me a slow, scornful once-over, pausing long enough to make his contempt clear. “You didn’t even know her until a few days ago.” His eyes narrow, and the hardness in them feels like a blade—sharp, unforgiving. “And you think you’re the one she needs right now?”

The tension thickens around us, pressing down like a weight, suffocating everything in its path. Yoongi’s words slice through me, opening a wound I’m desperate not to show—especially to him. My fists clenched at my sides involuntarily, my knuckles white. “You don’t know a damn thing about this, Yoongi,” I growl, stepping closer, leaving almost no space between us. “I’m not playing her. I care about her. And if you can’t see that, then maybe you’re the one who doesn’t get it.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow further. “If you care about her so much, then why—why make her your fake girlfriend? What kind of ‘caring’ is that, huh?” He raises his hands, mimicking air quotes.

Once again, his words sting. My chest tightens, a flicker of doubt worming its way into my thoughts. Why did I drag her into this? Is that fair?

I shake the thought away, grounding myself. I may have only known her for a few days, but that doesn’t matter. I felt something with her—something real. And I won’t let Yoongi question that.

My frustration bubbles over, spilling into my movements as I step forward, trying to shove past Yoongi. My voice drops to a low growl. “I don’t need your approval. I just need her to be okay.”

Yoongi stands his ground not letting me pass. “I’m not about to let some wannabe cool guy waltz in and steal the girl I love,” he spits, the words oozing with venom. “So when this whole fake dating thing is over, you need to fuck off. Understand?”

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat at Yoongi’s words, and for a moment, the world around me fades into a blur. I swallow hard, sickened by the realization that he loves her. The anger surges in me, hotter and sharper now, and I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms, leaving painful crescents.

“You say you love her?” My voice cracks with disbelief, but I push on my throat dry as the words come out gravelly. “And yet, she has no idea you feel that way! You’ve never even told her! So why don’t you get your head out of your ass and stop worrying about me ‘stealing the girl you love’ if you can’t even say the words to her yourself?”

Taehyung, who’s been standing off to the side, watching the scene unfold, lets out an exasperated sigh. He steps forward, placing a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder to hold him back.

“Yoongi, enough,” Taehyung says, his voice calm but firm. “You’re not helping her by fighting with Jungkook.”

Yoongi’s gaze shifts briefly to Taehyung, but the fire in his eyes doesn’t fade. “I’m not backing down, Taehyung. This is about her,” he growls, eyes snapping back to me.

Taehyung’s face softens, his eyes flicking between us before finally settling on me. His voice is quieter now, tinged with frustration and an edge of concern. “And you’re not helping her either by acting like this,” he says as if trying to make us both see reason. “She doesn’t need either of you fighting over her, okay?”

I exhale sharply, a tight, bitter laugh slipping from me. I take a step back, trying to collect myself. “I know,” I admit, running a hand through my hair. “She’d probably break my hand if she was hearing this right now.” A flicker of her anger surfaces in my mind—a furrowed brow, a glare sharp enough to kill—and, for a split second, it tugs a small, fleeting warmth through my chest.

Yoongi scoffs. “Taehyung, I’m not about to let some fuckboy use her and toss her aside like she’s nothing while we’re left picking up the pieces,” His jaw clenches, muscles tightening, as he shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “She’s been through enough, and I won’t let her go through another heartbreak on my watch.”

Yoongi steps closer, his chest almost brushing mine. Despite being shorter, his presence feels overwhelming and suffocating. "Maybe I will tell her," he says, voice low and edged with a quiet threat. "After all, Taehyung and I have been the only ones who've been there for her." His eyes scan me with cold, calculating precision, and a smug smirk curves his lips. "I’ve made sure she’s warm at night."

I scoff, my gaze shifting elsewhere, trying to fight the surge of anger and confusion coiling inside me. Warm at night? What the hell is he talking about? The thought gnaws at me, and I feel the ache of my clenched jaw, my teeth grinding together painfully.

Yoongi lets out a low, mocking laugh, and Taehyung shifts uncomfortably between us. Yoongi leans in, his voice sharp. “Let me be blunt. I’ve held her when she was falling apart, made sure she ate…” His voice dips lower, a dangerous, almost seductive edge creeping in. “I’ve helped her change, even bathe. I stayed at her place for weeks and kept her close while she slept—and that’s just scratching the surface. There are things I won’t even mention.” He straightens up, eyes locking with mine, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips. “I’ve been there when it mattered. So if I told her I loved her, we both know who she'd choose.”

My hands tremble as they ball into fists, my knuckles blanching white with the force of my grip. My heart pounds in my chest, jealousy searing through me like wildfire. “Oh, really?” I force the words out, each one coated in bitterness. “How can you be so sure she’d even want you in that way if she knew you had feelings for her?”

"Better than some fake boyfriend who’s using her. You’ll just toss her aside once she’s no longer useful to you." He pokes his tongue to his cheek, the muscle twitching in irritation as the heat of anger rises within him.

I shut my eyes, trying to steady the tightening in my chest as the fury coiling in my stomach threatens to consume me. My upper arms twitch, the fabric of my sleeves rubbing against my skin, grounding me in the midst of this storm. "You keep saying that. What makes you think I’m using her?" The taste of acid rises in the back of my throat, and my vision starts to tunnel as if everything around me is closing in, suffocating me.

Yoongi picks up on the barely contained fury in my tone. “Are you getting angry?” he taunts, a smirk curling on his lips. “Go ahead and hit me. See how she reacts when you hurt her precious friend.”

The challenge hangs in the air like static before a storm. My jaw tightens, and I can hear my teeth grinding together. My heartbeat thunders in my chest, the rhythm crashing in my veins, each beat like a countdown.

“You’re really asking for it, aren’t you?” I spit the words, my voice tight with barely restrained fury, each syllable seething like a fuse burning too close to its end. “You’re really fucking testing me?” My body feels like it’s wound too tight, every muscle trembling with the pressure, every nerve frayed and on edge, waiting for the explosion.

Yoongi doesn’t back down. His body is rigid, his eyes dark with defiance, and he matches the tension with his own. The space between us crackles with energy, dangerous, like the air before an explosion.

Before either one of us can move, Taehyung’s voice breaks through the simmering tension, his calm tone cutting through the suffocating heat like a bucket of cold water. “Okay, that's enough, you two,” he says firmly, stepping between us with an ease that contrasts the storm brewing around him. “We’re all worried about her, and if she could see you two fighting, she’d kick both of your asses, so chill out!”

My chest rises and falls rapidly as I try to steady my breathing, my muscles still twitching with the desire to hit Yoongi. But Taehyung’s solid and calming presence forces the tension to loosen just enough for me to take a deep breath, exhaling slowly as the adrenaline begins to ebb away.

It’s strange that Taehyung seems to instinctively know how to defuse the situation. We haven’t been close since middle school. After all these years, we’ve drifted apart—lives changing, priorities shifting. But Taehyung’s steady presence still has the ability to calm me, even when it feels like everything is falling apart.

“You can check on her. She’s in the room down the hall on the couch.” Taehyung points in that direction with a sharp gesture. His tone is calm but with an edge, and he is clearly irritated with Yoongi's behavior.

I nod, grateful but still a bit uneasy. "Thank you." The words feel heavier than usual like there’s more weight behind them than just gratitude. I give Taehyung a small, genuine smile—something we haven’t shared in a long time—and for a moment, it feels like maybe the distance between us is starting to close.

I glare at Yoongi once more, the tension still simmering beneath the surface, but I force myself to turn and head toward the room where you are.

***********

Taehyung smiles kindly at Jungkook as he watches him head into the room. The door clicks shut behind him, and that’s when Taehyung’s patience finally snaps. Without hesitation, he turns to Yoongi and punches him in the arm, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Taehyung’s voice is low but sharp, the kind of irritation that only comes from someone who’s seen Yoongi’s behavior go off the rails before.

Yoongi scowls, rubbing his arm with a growl of protest. "What? I’m just looking out for her."

"Yeah, well, you’re doing a damn good job of pushing everyone away while you're at it," Taehyung snaps, his patience fraying, voice sharp with frustration. "She can’t just have the two of us for the rest of her life, Yoongi."

Yoongi's gaze drops, and for a moment, his expression crumbles into something heavy—soul-deep and burdened. His voice is quieter when he speaks. "I don’t want to think about that. You know I love her..." His breath hitches, and he closes his eyes as if trying to steady himself. "I can’t just hand her off to some fuckboy who’s slept with half the campus."

Taehyung’s anger bubbles up again, but it’s not just anger now. There’s pain too, the kind that comes from seeing someone you care about lost in their own mess of emotions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, a soft groan escaping him. "You should know better than to believe rumors." His voice softens, but it still carries the weight of disappointment. "Jungkook is a good guy. You should know that by now, I wouldn’t let anyone get close to her if I thought they’d hurt her."

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, guilt and frustration mingling in his eyes. "Yeah... I know," he admits, the words heavy with something more than just acknowledgment. There's regret buried in his tone, but it's barely visible.

Taehyung’s voice cuts through the silence that hangs between them. "If you really feel that strongly, then tell her how you feel, but you can’t lash out at Jungkook because you’re too much of a coward to face your own feelings." Taehyung’s words land with a sharp sting, and he doesn’t look away, making sure they cut deep.

Yoongi’s expression falters, and Taehyung’s harsh words land heavier than he expected. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he stares at the ground as if avoiding the truth that’s been laid bare for him. His pride and anger rise to the surface, but there's a flicker of something else—embarrassment and regret.

He scoffs. "Coward, huh?" He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "You think it’s that simple? Just go to her, say what I feel, and everything’s supposed to magically work out?" He laughs bitterly, but the sound is hollow, lacking its usual conviction.

Yoongi steps back, the weight of Taehyung’s words sinking in, and there’s a flicker of guilt in his eyes—something he doesn't want to acknowledge but can't ignore. He runs a hand over his face, his shoulders sagging slightly as if the walls he’s built around his emotions are starting to crack. "I don’t even know if she’d want me to say anything. Hell, I don't know if I'm even good enough to say anything."

He pauses for a long beat as if the words are still catching in his throat. "But fine. Maybe you're right. Maybe I've been hiding behind my own damn fear." His voice softens, almost reluctantly. He looks away, avoiding Taehyung's gaze, but there’s a subtle acknowledgment of the truth in his words.

Taehyung sighs, his expression softening as he steps closer. He places a hand on Yoongi's shoulder. "I’m here for both of you, no matter what happens," he says gently, his tone calm and sincere.

***********

JK

I stand frozen at the doorway, my breath catching as I see her sleeping on the couch. The soft rise and fall of her chest is the only thing that reassures me. I step cautiously, careful not to shatter the fragile silence hanging in the air. The room carries her scent—a mix of perfume and the lingering stench of cigarette smoke from years of punk shows, the past echoing in every corner.

I move to the armrest of the couch, hovering there for a moment, my eyes drinking in the sight of her. There's a weight lifting from my chest, a sense of relief flooding me now that she’s okay, even if only for now.

As I watch her, my heart steadies, the knot of tension I’ve been holding since the fight with Yoongi loosening. It’s like the weight in my chest lifts, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I can breathe without the constant strain.

"Jungkook." Her soft and fragile voice is barely a whisper, but it’s enough to freeze me in place. I watch her stir, murmuring my name in her sleep, and the world slows around me, fading to nothing.

I crouch next to her. I raise my fingers and lightly graze them over her cheek, a quiet smile tugging at my lips as I watch the peacefulness settle over her. The warmth of her skin beneath mine soothes something inside me, the chaos of the past hours finally ebbing away as my heart finds its rhythm again.

She furrows her brows. “Jungkook... You pervert.”

I chuckle softly, the sound barely escaping me as my smile deepens. My fingers move to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her face, the simple touch sending a rush of warmth through me. I trace the soft curve of her cheek with my gaze, my eyes lingering on the delicate flutter of her lashes against her skin. Every small detail of her—every subtle movement—seems to draw me in, a magnetic pull I can’t ignore. Before I even realize it, my face is inching closer to hers, drawn by something I can’t quite name.

And then, she says it. “Yoongi,” she murmurs softly, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, blissfully lost in her dreams.

My smile vanishes, and the warmth drains from my chest as an unfamiliar wave of jealousy crashes over me. The air in the room suddenly feels thick and suffocating, and my stomach twists in tight knots. My gaze sharpens, and my heart sinks. Does she… like Yoongi?

The question stabs me, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I struggle to control my breath, fighting off the tight frustration building in my chest.

Without thinking, I stand up quickly, retreating to lean against the armrest. My arms cross defensively as I try to swallow down the gnawing ache in my gut. I look at her, still sleeping peacefully, and wait for the flood of questions and doubt to subside—waiting for some answer I’m not sure I’ll want to hear.

***********

You begin to stir, the warmth of sleep still clinging to you, but as your mind sharpens, the confusion starts to clear. A soft groan escapes your lips as your eyes flutter open. Everything feels too bright and too loud. "What happened?" you murmur, your voice shaky and still heavy with sleep.

Jungkook jerks up from his seat on the armrest, his expression so raw with worry that it takes you off guard. His eyes are wide, searching you over as if he can't quite believe you're awake. "You're backstage," he says quickly, his voice rushed, a little panicked. "You passed out after the show." The way he says it makes your chest tighten. You’ve never seen him so concerned. It almost feels like he’s been holding his breath.

Your vision clears as you meet his gaze, and a strange warmth rises in your chest. “Jungkook?” You whisper his name, and it feels different—heavier like you realize something you’ve only just allowed yourself to admit. The way his eyes soften when you say it makes your stomach twist, and you remember.

You like Jungkook.

You try to sit up, the room spinning a little as you move, and he’s there instantly, steadying you with gentle hands at your back. His touch sends an electric shiver through you, making your breath catch in your throat. "Where are Yoongi and Tae?" you ask, needing something solid to focus on, even though your head is still cloudy with thoughts of Jungkook.

"Taehyung and Yoongi are still backstage," he says, his voice quieter now, like he's trying to calm himself just as much as you. He crouches down so that his face is level with yours, his gaze intense, like he's waiting for something from you. "They're in another room, talking." He keeps looking at you as if he's trying to read you, and for a moment, you wonder if he can see right through you.

The moment stretches between you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and it's not from the fainting, not anymore. It's from the way Jungkook is looking at you like he’s searching for an answer to a question he didn't ask. Like he’s waiting for you to ask him.

"I bet they're pissed," you mutter, rubbing your temples, trying to shake off the fogginess.

Jungkook’s lips quirk into a small, almost amused smile. "Yoongi definitely is."

You roll your eyes, unable to stop the sarcastic groan that slips from you. "Oh boy, I’m gonna get an earful from him later."

Jungkook's expression falters for just a second, something darker flickering in his eyes. "Yoongi's pissed, yeah, but I don’t think it’s at you." He leans forward, his voice lowering with a mix of bitterness and frustration. "He’s been going on and on about how I’m ‘using you’... like he’s so fucking sure of it. He keeps talking about how you’d choose him over me." He scoffs, but there’s something odd in the way he says it, like it’s bothering him more than he’s trying to let on.

You blink, surprised, not quite sure what to make of what he’s said. Your gaze sharpens, and a small frown creases your forehead. "What do you mean I’d choose him over you?" You’re genuinely puzzled, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. The confusion is real, but beneath it, something else is stirring—anger?

He looks at you, his eyes flickering with something unreadable as he seems to choose his words carefully. "He said he's been taking care of you, helping you through all this." Jungkook pauses for a moment, his voice dipping lower, almost hesitant. "He also mentioned... helping you change your clothes."

You sigh and close your eyes, a pang of discomfort rising in your chest. "Yes, he helped me a lot with my panic attacks and nightmares, but so has Taehyung." You shake your head slightly, trying to brush away the awkwardness. "As for helping me change, that was once... when I passed out covered in my own vomit." You cringe at the memory, trying to make light of it, but the sting of the situation lingers.

You look up at him with a small, teasing smile, attempting to deflect the tension. "Are you jealous?"

Jungkook doesn’t show much reaction at first, his expression flat, but there’s something in his eyes that betrays him ever so slightly. "Why would I be jealous?" he responds a little too quickly. His tone is cold and hollow. It stings.

Your heart tightens, an ache settling deep in your chest. Maybe you’re the only one feeling anything between the two of you. The thought lingers, and you can’t shake it off. "Good," you say, forcing a smile that feels too thin, too fragile. "Because we agreed not to fall in love with each other."

Jungkook stands up, his posture stiff, and runs a hand through his hair. "Right. I know..." His voice drops to a low grumble. "I’m not falling in love with you. And you're not falling in love with me." He mumbles the last part under his breath, his gaze drifting somewhere far away.

It's okay if he doesn't feel the same—after all, he could have anyone he wanted. You quickly shove the thought down, reminding yourself that you're here to help him, to be there for him... not to expect anything but his money in return. You stand up and stretch, doing your best to shake the lingering tension from the room. "Well, I guess I had a good nap. I feel better now."

"That's good." Jungkook’s smile is there, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Something about the way he looks at you sends a tight knot to your chest. "I'm glad you feel better now."

You take a breath, trying to ease the weight in the room. "The three of us are having a party back at my place to celebrate if you wanna join." The words come out a little more casual than you feel as if you’re trying to break the unsettling tension that’s laid between you two.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker with a spark of interest, and he straightens up a little as if the thought of the change of pace lifts his spirits. "I would love to," he says, his voice light, though you can sense the walls he had lowered earlier have slowly risen again.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

©Candyshin00 '24

[chvnnie]

Thinking about a giant cuddle pile with Chan and Felix and Jisung when I’m sad 😢 just all soft and cuddly with snacks and blankets and snuggles all around 💕

this made my heart really warm 🥺 why not start the day off with something cute and soft

It’s just one of those days where nothing is right.

You woke up late, having to decide between showing up to class on time or brushing your teeth (rip the last stick of gum in your backpack). On the power walk to the science building, you realize there’s a teeny hole in the bottom of your worn out sneakers. Hardly noticeable — until pieces of gravel find it’s way inside.

Oh, did you forget? There’s a quiz today! Open book? What a silly little question, of course you have nothing but your memory to rely on when you’ve only just woken up.

Dropped your coffee literally minutes after buying it. The rice you bought for lunch was cold. Your favorite pen broke, you forgot your water bottle on your rush out. Bad thing after bad thing — it’s a surprise you held in the incoming spiral until you got home.

Their voices fill the hallway. About halfway to your apartment, you pause and take a really deep breath. Normally, Felix inviting his friends over doesn’t bother you. After all, they’re yours too. Jisung you’ve know since elementary school, and Chan you met on your first day of university.

“Shit.” You heard the strange boy mumble beside you, digging through his bag hopelessly. “Shit, shit, shit-“

“Are you okay?” Normally, you’d keep to yourself in class. But he seemed really, really flustered.

“I can’t find my pen. How did this happen? I bought a new pack this weekend and—“

Before he can even finish, you put a blue one on his notebook. Shiny, new. You had gone shopping yourself.

“I’ll give it back.”

He never did, and somehow lost the pen within four classes. So, you gave him another. By midterms, you had bought a pack just for Chan.

From that intro to ethics class blossomed a friendship that you can’t picture your life without. Through you, he met Jisung, and through Chan, you met Felix. The quiet, sweet guy whose roommate broke the lease unexpectedly and really needed someone to fill that vacancy.

Coming home to them is a daily occurrence. One that you typically look forward to. But today. Today you’re exhausted. The tiny apartment is going to be so loud until the early hours of dawn — how much can you take today?

They don’t hear the door open, too busy yelling at each other over Mario Kart. Jisung is losing, and Felix is gloating. The typical.

“Hey, you’re back!” Chan, happily in both the middle of the couch and ranking, flashes you a smile while still focused on the tv screen. “Want in? This race is almost over.”

“‘m okay. Kinda tired.” You force a yawn to make it more believable, dropping your bag on the rarely used dining table. “I think I’m going to take a nap.”

“Are you sure? We—“

“Maybe later?” You’re really trying to keep it together, picking at the skin around your nails. “I just need a bit. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

Chan raises an eyebrow at you, not fully convinced and slightly worried. Deciding it’s better not to press, he just nods, and turns fully back to the game.

You don’t even make it to your bed before the tears start. Body shaking, you change into a comfier set of clothes before lying face down in the center of your big bed. One deep, broken breath and the sobs begin.

Why did today have to happen? Left and right, no matter which direction you took, the outcome was the same. Sucking the life out of you and giving nothing in return.

You feel exhausted. Defeated. Hopeless.

The teeny, tiny knock is barely audible. But the creak, and shutting of the door, breaks through your cries. You don’t move, head too heavy to try and see who it is. They don’t announce themselves either; padding across the room before climbing in the bed with you. Lying right next to you, hiking his leg around your body.

The cologne is a give away. “Come on.” Jisung whispers, coaxing you into his arms. When you grunt, he moves you himself. Head to his chest, pulling you close before covering you both with the duvet.

Remember when you were little, and you fell from the play set? It wasn’t a far drop, but for your tiny body it felt like a lot. Nobody was around, class playing on the other side of the playground. All alone, softly sniffling. Your jeans are ripped, knee poking out and bloodied.

“Ouchie.” You whimper. When you try to stand, you teeter. Unsteady. Painful. How can you get help?

“You went boom.” You hear a tiny voice say, turning around to see a boy your age right behind you. “Did it hurt?”

You nod. “Big ouchie, look.”

He comes over, plops onto the ground next to you. Little brown eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Woah!” He leaned closer to get a better look. “You’re brave.”

It’s only of the first things Jisung ever said to you, and if you were to ask him to describe you today, he would say the same thing.

Brave. You’re brave. He’s always thought, and always will.

“Want to talk about it?” Jisung is drawing circles on your back, nails digging in just enough to be soothing.

You shake your head, clinging onto to his hoodie. “Just sad.” That’s what it comes down to — it doesn’t matter that you woke up late, and that the world was crumbling with each step you took. When you woke up, you were already aching.

There doesn’t have to be a reason. There isn’t one. Sadness just stopping in to say hello, and overstaying it’s welcome.

Your friend nods, shuffling in the bed to get more comfortable. Mingled breathing is the only sound, soft and easy. Almost lulling you into a much needed sleep.

Fluttering in and out of consciousness, you don’t notice that the tv has turned off. Jisung is just so warm; he smells good, he makes you feel safe. Why pay attention to anything else when comfort is finally hauling sadness out?

A dip in the bed, and you whine, thinking Jisung is trying to leave you. That is, until a board body presses into your back. Holding you from the other side.

“Are you guys napping without me?” Chan playfully asks, tickling your side lightly. Though you smack his hand away, he sees the teeny smile it brings. “That’s rude.”

“So was you cheating in Mario Kart, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

“You’re just a sore loser-“

“You cheated!”

“What is this?” Felix’s voice breaks up the bickering. You look up to see your roommate in the door, jaw dropped in faux shock. “A cuddle party? Without me?”

When you moved in, the apartment smelled like…burning sugar.

The blonde man was in the kitchen, spilling the most vulgar words you’ve ever heard as he quickly puts on oven mitts. You watched from the front door, not wanting to spook him as he takes the hot pan out of the oven.

He brings it to his face, closely inspecting the dessert. They were supposed to be white chocolate brownies, instead they’re as dark (and hard) as coal. With a frustrated sigh, he drops it on the counter.

“For all it matters.” You make yourself known, resisting a giggle at the way he jumps. “It smells good.”

Huffing a laugh, Felix puts his hands on his hips. “Just because we’re living together now doesn’t mean you have to appease me.”

“It’s the truth.” You say, fully entering the apartment. “What happened? Wrong temperature?”

He presses his lips together. “…I took a nap.”

It’s a shame, really. Tragic. You hate for sweets to go to waste — but oh, how you laugh. Leaning your head on his shoulder and staring down at the burned brownies.

“One day you’ll get it, Lix.”

The tupperware container is filled to the top with the same brownies, the lid almost popping off. Quickly abandoning the treats on your dresser, your roommate rushes to the bed.

And lays right on top of you.

While you giggle, the other two men groan.

“Come on, Felix.”

“This isn’t comfy—“

“It’s not my fault you didn’t leave space for me!”

You can feel the youngest man wiggle, trying to get more comfortable and thus torturing his friends. It isn’t the most practical way to group cuddle, but it is the most heartwarming. Smothered in love that you’ve never really felt worthy of, but are forever grateful for.

What was it that you were so upset about, again?

[blametheeditor]

Day 16 | Yes, no, maybe?

Pilot Episode | First | Previous | Next

Killing vampires. Keeping one as a ward. The life of a hunter.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Minor character deaths. On screen deaths. Blood and gore. Violence. Use of weapons, including guns and knives. Kidnapping. Dehumanization. Addressing someone as 'it' and 'thing'. Darker themes and tone.

__________________________________

“So remember our theory about you actually being a cat?” 

Fritz nearly chokes on his drink. “Our theory!” 

“Yeah, the one we proved,” James smirks without looking up from the book he’s reading. 

“It was not proven,” the vampire quickly defends. “Especially because it’s not purring, it’s a rumble.” 

The hunter stares at him from across the table with an unreadable expression. “That sounds like you’re coping.”

“It does not!” 

“Does too,” James mocks, meeting Fritz’s narrowed eyes with his own as he leans forward. “Face it, Fritz, you’re more cat then bat.” 

If they were sitting in the truck or in their motel room, Fritz would have no issues lunging at James to put him in a chokehold and force the hunter to take it back. Unfortunately, they’re currently sitting in a cafe full of people, and they would all find it a little weird if a scrawny five foot four inch teenager effortlessly pinned down a visibly strong five foot nine inch man who clearly has more strength than the former, at least from an outside perspective. Truthfully, he wouldn’t care if roughhousing would be considered impolite and childish, he would just need to make sure he won, and he could never make a wrestling match seem believable if he was victorious. 

James seems to notice his annoyance. “What, vamp? Do we need to take this outside?” 

“Later, hunter,” Fritz grins. “I’m going to make you pay for calling me a cat.” 

“Oh I’m shaking in my boots,” James deadpans as he sits back in his chair and starts to look over the notes he’s been taking. “Whatever should I do.” 

“If you take it back I’ll go easy on you.” 

Fritz’s offer is snorted at. “In your dreams. I think the only reason why vamps can’t shapeshift into bats is because they’re thinking of the wrong animal.” 

“We’re not cats!” 

“Will you two shut up?” a voice suddenly snaps, effectively taking all of Fritz’s excitement and replacing it with terror. “It’s almost like you dumbasses want people to know vampires are real.” 

Despite the fact David had helped him off the roof just last night, Fritz can’t help trembling at being in the same room as the tall hunter. In the same room and currently leering over their table, his imposing height casting a rather ominous shadow over the vampire. 

Fritz tries to take a deep breath and reassures himself that even if David wants to kill him right now, the hunter can’t. Not in front of a dozen people who don’t know vampire’s exist and therefore would only see a teenager being murdered rather than a monster getting slain. And even if there weren’t witnesses, James is here and gently kicking Fritz’s foot underneath the table as a silent reminder his hunting partner won’t let anything happen. 

Still, all the warmth from the drink in his hands disappears as Fritz looks up to see David glowering down at him with nothing but destain, meaning his hope they could possibly become friends has gone right out the door. 

“No one’s going to think they’re real, David,” James says without even looking up. “Not unless you continue yelling about it instead of sitting down to talk.” 

Growling, David reaches behind Fritz, the vampire unable to breathe until a chair from another table is dragged over. He then throws it next their table in the small space available between the other chairs before kicking James’. “Move it.” 

James slides over without a word, letting David take the originally occupied seat. And that’s when Fritz debates on feeling relieved the dangerous man isn’t close enough to suddenly stab him with a silver knife, and feeling almost hurt. 

Which, technically, he shouldn’t feel hurt from the clear want to be nowhere near him. Of course the hunter wouldn’t want the vampire he’s been hunting down to kill close enough to possibly be attacked. It’s the exact reason why Fritz is visibly shaking at the tall man being so close. 

It just...reminds him he’s not human. That he can’t be trusted. Because even if he hasn’t hurt anyone, he can even if it’s on complete accident. If people knew vampires were real, knew what he is, then everyone would be treating him like that. Like he’s a monster who will snap at any moment. 

...at least David’s willing to sit at the same table as a vampire. That’s a good sign, right? As long as he ignores the constant glares being shot toward him and the cup in his hands. 

“What the hell is it drinking?” 

Fritz can’t help sinking lower into his seat as James answers. “Hot water.” 

That pulls David up short, the tall hunter hesitating. “Just hot water?” 

“Just hot water,” James confirms, sounding bored. Instead of anger, though, David seems genuinely curious despite the scowl as he stares at Fritz’s cup. But then he meets the vampire’s hopeful eyes and immediately gives a sneer as if his anger had never left. 

“Where are you headed to next?” David asks, turning so there’s no mistake he’s talking to James and James only. At least Fritz is used to this. Can pretend he’s being ignored because he’s just a teenager and not because he’s a vampire. 

“We’re actually looking for a case right now,” James says, still not looking up from his book. “Why, do you already have one?” 

“Scott let me know there’s a nest just north of here.” 

Fritz only shrugs at James’ glance to say he’ll go wherever the hunter does. “And you want us to help you clear it?” 

“Based on the fact I end up with a concussion whenever I follow you into a nest, no, I don’t want your help,” David snaps. “But I’m not letting you out of my sight, either, meaning you’re coming up north with me.” 

James puts down his book as he thinks it over. Kicks Fritz’s shoe to silently ask what the vampire thinks. 

This is why he trusts James. That even though James and David were once hunting partners, even though Fritz doesn’t really have a say considering the fact he’s a teenager and a vampire, the hunter would never force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. Including agreeing to follow the person who has tried to kill him multiple times and will most likely continue to try. 

Fritz knows that if he asks James not to follow David, then they won’t. Give the tall hunter the slip before traveling in the opposite direction. 

But if they did that, then David willingly sitting down at their table instead of dragging Fritz into the alleyway to kill him there will never happen again. They would go back to sleepless nights running from someone who wants nothing more than the vampire’s head cut off. And maybe David will succeed. 

And maybe Fritz is just naive, but he really thinks David doesn’t completely loath him. Just, maybe doesn’t know what to do with a friendly vampire, much like James hadn’t when they first met. And just look where he and James are now! Threatening each other despite knowing they could kill the other if they really wanted to. But they don’t, and Fritz believes neither of them never will. 

Maybe David will never be okay with threats. But helping him off the roof and sitting at the table has to mean the hunter at least wants to be...okay, maybe not friends, but coworkers who respect each other for saving lives. 

Frit gives a small nod to say he agrees to follow David to which James gives a nod of his own. “We’ll follow you. When did you want to leave?” 

“The sooner the better. Are you done with your coffee and-?” David suddenly glares down at the book being read. “Is that Dracula?” 

“Lore is lore,” is all James says as he begins to pack away his notes, pausing to turn to Fritz. “Are you ready to hit the road?” 

The vampire nods, standing up before David has the chance to so much as glare. “I’m ready.” 

He catches James’ book as it’s tossed to him to put into their bag with everything else. The hunter then collects their cups to take up to the counter with Fritz following only a few steps behind, thanking the barista before walking out the door just behind David. He can’t help a soft hiss at the bright sunlight, wincing when he catches David reaching for his jacket on instinct. 

The tall hunter seems to think it over a moment before dropping his hand. “I’m following you, by the way. Can’t have you disappearing to another town halfway there.” 

“If I really wanted to give you the slip, you wouldn’t realize we were heading in the opposite direction until you got into town,” James replies. “Just don’t tailgate me.” 

“Oh I will be the entire way,” David grumbles as he climbs into his car. 

James snorts, glancing over at Fritz. “If you weren’t here, I would brake check him.” 

The vampire’s eyes go wide with fear. “You could cause an accident!” 

“I’d be careful,” the hunter muses as he climbs into the truck, Fritz quickly jumping in after him. “Make sure it’s nothing major and only his car would be damaged.” 

Fritz sits in the passenger seat, staring at the floorboard as he contemplates what would be better, sitting where the sun will shine on him but he’ll bee buckled in and safe in a crash, or sitting where he won’t get a sunburn and possibly get crushed if James were to follow through on his idea. 

“You can sit in the floorboard, Fritz,” James smiles. “I promise I won’t do it.” 

The vampire pouts as he gets comfortable on the floor, already feeling ten times better now that his skin doesn’t feel like its melting off. “I’ll make you pay if you do.” 

“Now I’m actually scared,” the hunter grins. “Should I be worried about the next time I challenge you on whether we should have the AC running instead of the heat?” 

“Very worried.” 

“I’ll get David to argue for me, then.” 

“Wha- that’s not fair!” 

[pointofreturn]

professor's pet, pt. 3

The next semester, I signed up for the professor’s literature class. Several of my friends were in the class. We were loud and silly and everyone was trying to impress each other with their opinions on the texts the professor built his career on. But he had that special ability to make us feel comfortable enough to be our weird, nerdy selves. The class was a real-life Dead Poet’s Society, at least for the few weeks we were together.

He seemed unable to hide his focus on me. If I leaned my head over to rest, he’d lean into my ear to ask if I was okay instead of listening to the student speaking. During a guest lecturer’s speech, I got up to excuse myself and he followed just after, prompting an intimate moment translucent to the entire class, pressing to make sure I was okay. He gave me a box of Thin Mints and walked me out to the parking lot late when no one else was around and my car smelled like weed. He always held the door for me and never failed to provide a chivalrous hand to help me. One day, I remind him about something he forgot to send me, and he earnestly promised to be better to me, better for me. Surely, he’s naturally a gentleman, and all of these happenings are little things that happened to every other woman he had eyes for, but there was a slow flame burning between us.

And I’m not the only one who felt it.

Two of my friends approached me and asked what was going on between us. I don’t say that anything is, but I don’t say that anything isn’t either.

“I knew it! He treats you differently. It’s really noticeable.”

“I’ve never seen him act that way with anyone. I can’t even get him to answer an email.”

I wished I’d been more willing to see the warning signs. But as always, I was intoxicated with his obsession with me. I couldn’t help but continue to provide the temptation, continue playing the chess game.

Just before spring break, I borrowed an expensive book of his for a prospective project. It was March 2020. COVID destroyed the world overnight. I stayed in Florida and he went back to the Midwest. We didn’t see each other for two years.

Yet, we kept in touch, even though there was no reason. He remembered texted me each year on my birthday and Thanksgiving and even early on Christmas morning when the last thing on his mind should be a student. I have a distinct memory of him saying he didn’t do things like that because he too often forgot. We talked occasionally about my thesis and Ph.D. applications.

He started texting me late at night. But no boundaries were crossed, yet.

We talked about seeing each other when he came back. I decided to stay at Another University for another degree, hopeful I’ll be able to establish a long-term career and finally achieve job stability. I take classes and teach online, staying concerned and vigilant about COVID long after the rest of the world decided to leave it behind.

During the time the professor and I were separated, I met my friend Jane. We quickly became close, she moved to Florida, and we started hanging out regularly.

*

In the spring, the professor returns.

I still work remotely, but Jane sees the professor often. She tells me they talk about how wonderful I am, and how we should hang out with her and her husband. I told her nothing about the seemingly endless slow burn.

She comes over to my house one night, gushing.

“Isn’t he so cute? And single? I almost can’t believe it…”

“Yeah, he’s a mystery! No denying that.”

Jane pauses, lighting another cigarette and sipping on a condensed glass of wine.

“Have I told you I’m in an open relationship?”

I’m caught off guard; I don’t expect this.

“Oh…that’s interesting!”

“Yeah—our rules are ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ unless it’s important or an emergency.”

“And that’s worked for you?” I already knew it hadn’t, or it wouldn’t forever.

“Oh yeah! Being open makes the marriage so much better.” She has that devil look in her eyes. “I’ve had a few boyfriends since we’ve been married. And now, I might have my sights set on a new one…”

“______?” His name burns on my tongue. I’ve always hated saying it.

“Of course! If I can ever figure him out. I think he’s flirting back at me, but I can’t tell if that’s just his personality.”

I smile, not really wanting to continue the conversation but trying to look unbothered.

“What is it?” she drags the cigarette stub. “I can tell there’s something you want to say.”

At this moment, I trust her, I think she’s my friend.

And in a lapse of judgment, I tell her about our flame.

I explain the situation to her with as much ration as I can. And that’s what it is—a situation between a student and professor quickly nearing sticky territory. I tell her the situation is confusing for me and there’s something unexplainable about the connection. I tell her I can’t deny my attraction to him and I’m not sure where this will ever end up.

“Hmm,” she says after I finish. She holds herself in that way I’m unsure of. “Well, I wouldn’t take him too seriously.” She finally puts out the cigarette, burnt through the filter.

“But I’m still gonna try to fuck him anyway.”

I should have known at this moment to cut her off.

[minaheartsstuff]

mermen

A few months had passed, and the bond between Aminah and Adil had only grown stronger. Their relationship, which had started with subtle moments of closeness, had blossomed into something undeniable, something real.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and Aminah was sitting with Adil in a quiet corner of a café, her head resting on his shoulder as they shared a milkshake. Their laughter echoed softly in the air, the kind of easy, comfortable laughter that came with being with someone you cared deeply for.

“Can you believe how far we’ve come?” Aminah asked, her voice warm as she looked up at him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She wasn’t expecting an answer, more like a shared moment of reflection, but Adil’s eyes softened as he glanced down at her.

“I can’t,” he admitted, his fingers gently brushing against hers. “I mean, from the first time we started talking about football to this—yeah, I didn’t see it coming.”

Aminah chuckled softly. “Neither did I.” She paused, her gaze distant for a moment as she thought back to everything that had happened—the arguments, the laughs, the moments of vulnerability, and everything in between. “But I’m glad it did. I’m glad we’re here.”

Adil squeezed her hand, his smile wide but genuine. “Me too.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both of them lost in their own thoughts but comfortable in each other’s presence. The café was quieter than usual, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow over everything, and it felt perfect.

Aminah broke the silence, her voice low and teasing. “So… about that comic book collection of yours… when are you going to let me pick out some new ones for you?”

Adil laughed, shaking his head. “I think you’ve already picked enough. I’m running out of space, Aminah.”

She grinned, her fingers lightly tapping his hand in mock offense. “You know you love it. Besides, you promised.”

“Alright, alright,” he said with a roll of his eyes, leaning in closer. “Next time we go to Forbidden Planet, you can pick.”

Aminah leaned in too, her lips brushing against his cheek in a quick kiss. “It’s a date.”

They both knew that things weren’t always perfect, but in that moment, nothing else mattered. They had each other, and that was enough.

As Aminah and Adil were getting lost in their own world, laughing and talking, the door to the café swung open. The sound of the bell rang above, and the soft chatter of the place quieted for a moment as a new group walked in.

Aminah’s eyes caught the familiar figure almost immediately. It was Ernest, strolling in with a girl who looked a little too confident, her high ponytail bouncing as she strutted in.

“Oi, look who it is,” Adil muttered under his breath, his expression going slightly stiff when he noticed who it was.

Aminah’s mood shifted immediately. She hadn’t seen Ernest in a while, but that didn’t mean she had forgotten everything about him. The memories of their messy breakup, the things he’d said, the way he’d treated her—it was still fresh in her mind.

Ernest spotted them, his eyes flicking over to Aminah and Adil sitting together, his lips curving into that annoying sneer. “Well, well, well,” he said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Aminah, still clinging to Adil, huh? Never thought I’d see the day.”

The girl next to him, clearly someone from a different school, gave a little snort of laughter, clearly enjoying the spectacle. She threw a quick glance at Adil and then back to Aminah. “You two really settled in, didn’t you?” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Aminah’s jaw clenched. She wasn’t in the mood for this. Not today.

“Ernest, seriously? Still talking?” Aminah shot back, raising an eyebrow. “I swear, you need to stop worrying about me and focus on whatever girl you’re with now.” She gave the girl beside him a quick glance. “You sure she’s into you, though? She doesn’t seem too impressed with your whole act.”

Ernest’s eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. “You think I’m bothered about your opinion?” He shook his head, moving closer, his voice louder. “Can’t even let me have a nice day with my new girl, can you?”

Aminah let out a dry laugh. “Oi, I don’t care about your ‘new girl.’ I’m here with someone who actually respects me, not some waste of time.”

Adil, sensing the tension, leaned in slightly toward Aminah, his voice low and protective. “Aminah, don’t bother, yeah? He’s just trying to wind you up.”

But Ernest wasn’t done. “Whatever, bruv,” he sneered, his voice laced with bitterness. “You think this is all some joke? You don’t even know what you’ve lost.”

Aminah stood up now, her chair scraping slightly against the floor, eyes fixed on Ernest. “You really need to stop coming at me, fam,” she said, her tone sharp. “And you,” she pointed at the girl next to him, “you’re better off leaving him to it. You’re clearly way too good for that.”

Adil was already standing beside her, his eyes on Ernest and his new girl, ready to step in if it escalated further. “Oi, let’s not make this something it’s not,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Ernest, go sort yourself out somewhere else, yeah? You’re moving mad.”

Ernest glared at them for a moment, then, realising there was no point in trying to get under their skin, he turned to his new girl. “Come on, babe,” he muttered, throwing one last look at Aminah before storming off toward the counter.

The girl gave one last glance at Aminah, rolling her eyes before following Ernest, leaving Adil and Aminah standing there in the awkward silence that followed.

Aminah let out a breath, sinking back into her seat, her fingers running through her hair. “I swear, that guy is such a dickhead,” she muttered.

Adil sat back down beside her, his hand resting on her knee. “You handled it, though. You’re proper savage.”

Aminah rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at her lips. “Cheers, bruv. Honestly, though, I don’t even know why he bothers.”

“He’s clearly just mad you moved on,” Adil said, his tone light but with an edge of seriousness. “Don’t let him get to you, yeah?”

Aminah nodded, feeling the weight of the moment start to lift. “Yeah. Don’t worry, I’m good.” She looked at Adil with a grateful smile, knowing she had someone who actually had her back now.

As Aminah and Adil were getting lost in their own world, laughing and talking, the door to the café swung open. The sound of the bell rang above, and the soft chatter of the place quieted for a moment as a new group walked in.

Aminah’s eyes caught the familiar figure almost immediately. It was Ernest, strolling in with a girl who looked a little too confident, her high ponytail bouncing as she strutted in.

“Oi, look who it is,” Adil muttered under his breath, his expression going slightly stiff when he noticed who it was.

Aminah’s mood shifted immediately. She hadn’t seen Ernest in a while, but that didn’t mean she had forgotten everything about him. The memories of their messy breakup, the things he’d said, the way he’d treated her—it was still fresh in her mind.

Ernest spotted them, his eyes flicking over to Aminah and Adil sitting together, his lips curving into that annoying sneer. “Well, well, well,” he said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Aminah, still clinging to Adil, huh? Never thought I’d see the day.”

The girl next to him, clearly someone from a different school, gave a little snort of laughter, clearly enjoying the spectacle. She threw a quick glance at Adil and then back to Aminah. “You two really settled in, didn’t you?” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Aminah’s jaw clenched. She wasn’t in the mood for this. Not today.

“Ernest, seriously? Still talking?” Aminah shot back, raising an eyebrow. “I swear, you need to stop worrying about me and focus on whatever girl you’re with now.” She gave the girl beside him a quick glance. “You sure she’s into you, though? She doesn’t seem too impressed with your whole act.”

Ernest’s eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. “You think I’m bothered about your opinion?” He shook his head, moving closer, his voice louder. “Can’t even let me have a nice day with my new girl, can you?”

Aminah let out a dry laugh. “Oi, I don’t care about your ‘new girl.’ I’m here with someone who actually respects me, not some waste of time.”

Adil, sensing the tension, leaned in slightly toward Aminah, his voice low and protective. “Aminah, don’t bother, yeah? He’s just trying to wind you up.”

But Ernest wasn’t done. “Whatever, bruv,” he sneered, his voice laced with bitterness. “You think this is all some joke? You don’t even know what you’ve lost.”

Aminah stood up now, her chair scraping slightly against the floor, eyes fixed on Ernest. “You really need to stop coming at me, fam,” she said, her tone sharp. “And you,” she pointed at the girl next to him, “you’re better off leaving him to it. You’re clearly way too good for that.”

Adil was already standing beside her, his eyes on Ernest and his new girl, ready to step in if it escalated further. “Oi, let’s not make this something it’s not,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Ernest, go sort yourself out somewhere else, yeah? You’re moving mad.”

Ernest glared at them for a moment, then, realising there was no point in trying to get under their skin, he turned to his new girl. “Come on, babe,” he muttered, throwing one last look at Aminah before storming off toward the counter.

The girl gave one last glance at Aminah, rolling her eyes before following Ernest, leaving Adil and Aminah standing there in the awkward silence that followed.

Aminah let out a breath, sinking back into her seat, her fingers running through her hair. “I swear, that guy is such a dickhead,” she muttered.

Adil sat back down beside her, his hand resting on her knee. “You handled it, though. You’re proper savage.”

Aminah rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at her lips. “Cheers, bruv. Honestly, though, I don’t even know why he bothers.”

“He’s clearly just mad you moved on,” Adil said, his tone light but with an edge of seriousness. “Don’t let him get to you, yeah?”

Aminah nodded, feeling the weight of the moment start to lift. “Yeah. Don’t worry, I’m good.” She looked at Adil with a grateful smile, knowing she had someone who actually had her back now.

The sun was beginning to set as Adil and Aminah strolled through the bustling streets of the city, a comfortable silence between them. They had been walking aimlessly for a while, taking in the fresh air, enjoying the freedom of the moment. Their footsteps echoed softly as they made their way toward the local football pitch.

“Oi, you reckon we could play a quick game?” Aminah asked, glancing over at Adil with a smirk. “Or are you scared I’ll show you up again?”

Adil chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not scared, bruv. You already know I’m better than you.”

Aminah rolled her eyes, nudging him with her elbow. “Keep dreaming, yeah?”

They continued walking, teasing each other lightly, until they reached the pitch. There, they stopped in their tracks, both of them grinning at the sight before them.

In the middle of the pitch stood Elis, trying—and failing—to teach Chloe how to play football. Chloe was standing awkwardly, her hands on her hips, her face scrunched up in confusion as she watched Elis demonstrate a kick. He was showing her how to dribble the ball, but Chloe wasn’t having it.

“Bruv, is that how you’re teaching her?” Aminah called out, her voice carrying across the field.

Elis turned his head, spotting Aminah and Adil. His face lit up, and he jogged over to them, laughing. “Oi, you two, save me! Chloe’s got no coordination, I swear.”

Chloe gave him a playful shove, rolling her eyes. “Excuse me, I’m trying my best, yeah? This is way harder than it looks!”

Aminah smirked and walked over, kicking the ball lightly with her foot. “Right, what you need to do is keep your foot steady, look at the ball, and just tap it with the inside of your foot. Like this.” She demonstrated a smooth, controlled kick, sending the ball rolling across the pitch with ease.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “You make it look so easy. I bet I could do that.”

“Go on then,” Aminah teased, stepping back to give her some space. “Show me.”

Chloe gave her a skeptical look but stepped up to the ball. She took a deep breath, concentrating, and tried to tap it gently with the inside of her foot—only for the ball to go flying off in the opposite direction, landing in the bushes just beyond the field.

Aminah burst out laughing, and even Adil couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Oi, Chloe, that’s not how you do it, yeah?”

“Shut up!” Chloe shouted, laughing too. “This is harder than it looks!”

Elis grinned and jogged over to the bushes to retrieve the ball. “She’s got spirit, I’ll give her that,” he said, tossing the ball back to Chloe. “But you lot can’t just come here and roast me like that.”

Aminah shrugged, still grinning. “It’s all about practice, bruv.”

“Yeah, tell that to Chloe,” Adil teased, nudging her playfully.

Chloe rolled her eyes but smiled. “Alright, alright, let’s do this properly. One more try.”

Aminah looked at Adil, their eyes meeting in a shared look of amusement. It was moments like these—simple and carefree—that made everything feel so much lighter.

“Let’s give her a hand,” Adil suggested, motioning to the pitch. “We could always make it a bit of a game, yeah? Show these guys how it’s really done.”

Aminah grinned, ready to take charge. “Game on, bruv.”

Chloe, still chuckling from her failed attempts at football, pulled out her phone and grinned. “Oi, Elis, let’s get a cheeky selfie, yeah?” she said, positioning the camera and leaning in, resting her head against his shoulder.

Elis wrapped an arm around her in a casual, playful way, both of them smiling wide for the photo. Chloe snapped the picture, satisfied with the result, then immediately opened her Instagram to post it.

Meanwhile, Adil and Aminah, oblivious to the selfie being taken, were still standing off to the side, smiling at each other with that unspoken connection between them. Adil leaned in slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as Aminah laughed softly at something he had just said. Without thinking, he gently cupped her face, and she responded by tilting her head toward him, her smile softening as they shared a quiet, intimate kiss.

As Chloe posted the picture to her story, she noticed the kiss happening in the background. Her eyes widened slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She quickly typed out a caption: “Caught these two being all cute 😍 @aminah_and_adil.”

She hit send, and the story was live for everyone to see. Adil and Aminah were still lost in the moment, unaware of Chloe’s post, when her phone buzzed with notifications. It wasn’t long before both of them heard the sound of laughter and teasing from their friends.

“Oi, Adil, Aminah!” Youness yelled from across the pitch, pointing at Chloe’s phone. “You two are all over the story, bruv!”

Aminah pulled away from the kiss, blushing instantly when she realized the attention they had just gotten. She turned to look at Chloe, who was now winking and laughing, her phone still in her hand. “You cheeky little—” Aminah started, though she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of their sweet moment being shared.

Adil, also caught off guard, rubbed the back of his neck, his face turning a little red. “Bruv, you had to post that?”

Chloe just shrugged, still laughing. “What? You two are too cute. Thought I’d share it.”

Aminah playfully slapped Adil’s arm, and he grinned back at her, rolling his eyes. “You’re gonna get me roasted, you know that?”

“Me? You were the one getting all soppy,” she teased, nudging him lightly. “Next time, just warn me, yeah?”

Despite their mock annoyance, both of them couldn’t help but smile, the playful teasing only adding to the warmth of the moment. Adil leaned in again, this time pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “At least it’s all love, innit?”

Aminah smiled up at him, feeling that warmth in her chest. “Yeah, all love.”

Aminah and Chloe walked side by side through the crowded school hallways, chatting about everything and nothing at all. Aminah’s gaze wandered through the sea of students, and her eyes landed on Adil, who was laughing with his usual group of friends—Youness, Bilal, and a couple of others. He was standing near their usual hangout spot by the lockers, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.

A mischievous grin spread across Aminah’s face, and before Chloe could say anything, she suddenly sprinted off, her footsteps light but quick. Chloe glanced over, eyebrows raised, and watched as Aminah made a beeline for Adil.

“Oi, what’s she up to now?” Chloe muttered, a knowing smile on her lips.

Without any warning, Aminah jumped onto Adil’s back, her arms wrapping around his neck as she yelled, “Surprise!”

Adil let out a surprised yelp, staggering forward slightly before steadying himself. He turned his head back to see Aminah clinging to him, her grin wide and playful. “You’re mad,” he said, trying not to laugh as he shifted to support her better.

Chloe, standing off to the side with Elis, chuckled at the scene. “There they go again,” she said, shaking her head with a smile. “They’re like kids.”

Elis just nodded, grinning. “They’re cute though.”

As Aminah settled onto Adil’s back, she shot a playful look at Chloe and Elis. “You two just gonna stand there, or what?” she teased, her voice light but full of energy.

Chloe shrugged, nudging Elis. “We’re gonna go for a walk, bruv. Let them have their moment.”

With that, Chloe and Elis waved goodbye, walking off down the corridor, leaving Aminah and Adil in their own little world.

Meanwhile, Youness and Bilal stood nearby, watching the whole thing unfold. Both of them were looking at Adil with wide eyes, mouths slightly agape.

“Bruv,” Youness said, shaking his head in disbelief. “What the hell? This guy’s literally got the whole world in his hands.”

Bilal laughed, crossing his arms. “I can’t believe it. Adil’s out here living the dream, and I’m just out here watching.”

Youness let out a low whistle. “You’re not wrong, mate. I thought I was the one who’d be getting all the attention, but Adil’s out here being the poster boy for ‘living your best life.’”

Adil, still with Aminah on his back, turned his head to glance at Youness and Bilal, both of them looking amused. “Oi, stop staring,” he called out, trying to act cool despite the blush creeping up his neck. “You lot don’t have to act all jealous.”

Aminah, her arms still draped over Adil, smirked. “Don’t worry, bruv. They’re just mad they can’t get a girl to jump on their back like this.”

The group laughed, but Youness and Bilal just shook their heads in mock disbelief. “Whatever, man,” Youness said. “You two are moving mad. Just make sure you don’t break your back, yeah?”

With that, Adil and Aminah both laughed, completely unfazed, as the sounds of the school day continued on around them.

As Aminah stayed perched on Adil’s back, her legs wrapped loosely around his waist, she began rambling excitedly, clearly full of energy after the surprise moment. “Bruv, you won’t believe the movie I watched last night,” she said, her voice animated. “It’s called Roadhouse, yeah? It’s an old one, but it’s so sick.”

Adil laughed, adjusting his grip around her waist to keep her steady. “Roadhouse? What’s that? Some cheesy 80s film?” he asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced over his shoulder to look at her.

“Mate, you have to watch it,” Aminah continued, totally caught up in her excitement. “It’s got this guy called Patrick Swayze, yeah? He’s this bouncer at a bar, and he’s like… he’s got all these martial arts moves, and he kicks everyone’s arse. And there’s this whole storyline about him being too soft for his job, but then he goes full savage. It’s mad.”

Adil chuckled, squeezing her waist gently as they walked. “Sounds like one of those ‘bad guy turns good’ kinda films, yeah?”

“Exactly!” Aminah exclaimed, bouncing slightly as she spoke. “And he’s got this legendary line, ‘I’m not gonna show you my moves, I’m gonna show you my reactions.’ I swear, bruv, I’m gonna be saying that now whenever anyone pisses me off.” She let out a laugh, completely caught up in her own enthusiasm.

Adil laughed even harder, shaking his head. “Only you would get so gassed over some random film from the 80s,” he teased, giving her waist a little hug as they continued walking. “But alright, I’ll watch it. Just to see what all the fuss is about.”

“You better, I’m telling you, you won’t regret it!” Aminah said, still excited, her face lit up with a grin. She tucked her head into his shoulder as they walked, a comfortable silence falling over them for a moment, both enjoying the simple joy of the moment.

They passed a group of students on their way to the next class, some of them glancing at the two of them with surprised expressions. Adil, ever the cool guy, barely noticed. Aminah, however, just smiled to herself, happy to be with him in that little bubble.

“You’re mad,” she muttered, leaning into him slightly. “You know that, right?”

He grinned back at her, not missing a beat. “Yeah, well, if being mad means getting to walk around with you like this, then I’m fine with it.”

Aminah rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile that spread across her face. She felt a flutter in her chest at the simplicity of it all—walking around with Adil, laughing about movies and life, just being in each other’s company.

“Alright, you better be ready for Roadhouse tonight, bruv,” she teased, nudging him slightly with her elbow.

He laughed, his arms tightening around her waist as they reached their next class. “Deal,” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “But no promises I’ll get as into it as you did.”

Aminah laughed, shaking her head. “You’ll see, just wait.”

As they finally reached the entrance to their classroom, Adil dropped his arms from around her waist, both of them standing still for a moment. They exchanged a soft smile before Aminah hopped off his back with a playful wink.

“Catch you later, yeah?” she said, her voice soft but playful as she made her way into the classroom.

Adil grinned, watching her walk off. “Yeah, you better watch that film again before tonight, ’cause I’m expecting a full breakdown when I get over.”

Aminah laughed, turning back to flash him one last grin before disappearing into the class.

And just like that, their little moment was over, but neither of them could help the smiles that lingered long after.

After school, Aminah was walking out of the school gates, her bag slung over her shoulder, when she spotted Adil. But he wasn’t alone. Standing beside him was a pretty girl, tall with sharp features and a confident air about her. She was laughing at something Adil said, but the whole vibe felt off to Aminah. There was something too smooth about the way she was standing next to him, too familiar.

Aminah’s heart gave a small, unexpected jolt as she slowed her steps. The girl was leaning into Adil as they chatted, making eye contact with him way too often, her laugh just a little too loud. The whole thing rubbed Aminah the wrong way, and it was clear she was trying to move in on Adil, clearly flirting in a way that felt more than just friendly.

Aminah’s jaw tightened as she walked closer, trying to keep her composure. She didn’t know why it stung so much. It wasn’t like she had any claim on Adil, right? But still, the way the girl was so hands-on, it bothered her. And that laugh… it just sounded fake.

As she walked past them, the girl gave her a quick glance, noticing Aminah looking at them. The girl smirked, her lips curving in a way that made Aminah feel like she was being judged.

“Oi, Adil,” the girl said loudly, her tone a little too teasing. “You sure you’ve got time for her?” She gestured at Aminah with a flick of her wrist. The comment wasn’t a question, more like a challenge, almost as if she was trying to stake her claim.

Aminah’s steps faltered for a split second. She felt the irritation bubble inside her, but she didn’t want to make a scene. She was just about to walk past them when she heard Adil laugh.

“Relax, yeah?” Adil said, his voice calm but with a hint of annoyance. “She’s just a mate. Don’t worry about it.”

The girl raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Mates, huh? Is that what they call it these days?”

Aminah felt her chest tighten, but she kept walking, not looking back. She wasn’t about to let some random girl get under her skin. She knew the truth about her and Adil, didn’t she?

But as she walked away, she heard the girl’s voice again, this time quieter but still in a teasing tone. “Hope you’re not too close with her, Adil. Wouldn’t want to get caught up in the drama.”

Aminah felt her cheeks flush with frustration, but she kept her pace steady. She didn’t have time for this. She didn’t have time to be bothered by some random girl trying to throw weight around.

A few steps later, she pulled out her phone and quickly texted Adil, her fingers typing faster than usual. You good?

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed with his reply. Yeah, just some girl talking nonsense. Don’t stress, yeah?

Aminah smiled at his message, even though a small part of her still felt that annoying burn. She knew Adil had her back, and he wasn’t interested in anyone else. But, seeing that girl with him, so close, it made her question things in a way she hadn’t before.

But she shook it off. Adil wasn’t the type to play games. They were good. She hoped.

[doctors-journal]

10 September

I met up with Liza today. I called her to tell her I’m back in London and she suggested we meet up at Barts again and go to lunch.

Of course, the first thing she asked as we walked to the restaurant was, “How’s it been rooming with Sherlock Holmes? Have you been out of town investigating?”

“No, we broke up a month ago.”

“I knew you’d like him!” she exclaimed, and then hastily added, “But I’m sorry it didn’t pan out…”

“Have you seen Justin around?”

“No, not since I introduced him to you. I think he mostly hangs out at Barts when he’s looking for a new Watson. Why? What happened?”

“Things didn’t end great between us.”

Liza shrugged. “They never do. Except with you, of course, you’re unrufflable—except by Sherlock, apparently!”

“It was both of us. I think neither of us was in a good place by the end, but if not for him—or you—I never would have gotten out of that lousy hotel room.”

“You’re welcome.” Liza grinned as she pulled me inside the little Indian restaurant. Once we were seated with menus and full glasses of water, Liza resumed her interrogation, leaning eagerly across the table, “So you mean you still have feelings for him?”

“I don’t know. I guess. I’m just sorry things ended like that. And to tell the truth, I’m a little worried about him.”

“Aw! You should visit him, surprise him with your sudden return! Maybe he’ll faint.” Liza seemed to find the whole idea hilarious.

“He’s not that melodramatic—usually.”

To my surprise, Liza took out her phone and passed it across to me. It took me a moment to realise what she was showing me. It looked like an old website from when we were kids; a wall of plain text on a white background, but the writing was almost like something out of the law books John and I had poured over.

“He convinced me to read it,” Liza said, confirming my nascent suspicions.

“This is one of the Sherlock Holmes books?”

“One of the short stories, yeah.” She grinned as I looked back at her phone, skimming the passage.

“He really does faint… Is that Dr. Watson?”

“Yep, the one and only. In his defence, Sherlock did just come back from the dead.”

“Did he?”

“It’s a whole thing,” Liza said like it was nothing out of the ordinary in what I thought were supposed to be normal detective stories.

“This sure is something…”

“I can’t believe he never even got you to read the first novel.”

“I saw him reading his copy of one of the books a lot, but he barely even mentioned it.”

“I guess he had to stay in character.” Liza took back her phone fiddled with it for a moment and then handed it back. “Take a look at this.”

It was another plain webpage, but it didn’t take long for me to see what it was. “This- this is exactly like when I first met the detective- when I met Justin! I could swear that’s exactly what he said! It’s so strange… I feel like I’ve been spied on by a hundred-year-old novel…”

Liza laughed and I surrendered her phone back to her.

We talked for a while. It was nice catching up with Liza. She’s doing well at Barts and maybe her research could even help some of my patients—I’m sure I’ll be seeing a bit of everything in the emergency room.

And I should visit Justin again.

[bbunisre]

07: FACEMASKS AND COOKIES (0.5k)

“I’m going to take a shower.” Tsumiki announces, getting up from the floor which Maki and you have pushed her down to after claiming territory in her own house. Tsumiki just let you two have it because she’s nice like that and would rather you two take over her bed apparently.

“Without me?” you ask.

She grabs her towel and flicks your nose, “Yes, without you. One of you should go check on the cookies and the other, get the face masks from Megumi’s room so we can do them.”

When Tsumiki left with clear instructions, Maki is the first to leave, “I’ll go check on the cookies. You should go get the masks from Megumi’s room.”

“Didn’t know Megumi was such a skincare guy.” 

“Sometimes I think he’s a serial killer.” Maki scoffs.

“He’s not.” you defend him.

She holds the door half-open, a sly smile drawing on her face, “You know, I find it funny that you’re closer to him even though I’m the one who’s related to Megumi.” 

She lets it hang in the air for a while and before it can sour into a different meaning and intention, you grab her words and fumble a quick response, “That’s because I get Tsumiki privileges. Duh.”

Maki rolls off the bed, “Whatever. I’m going to check on the cookies.”

She leaves the room.

You stay in the room.

Megumi is next door.

Literally a wall away.

Megumi, your best friend’s younger brother who drunk confessed to you and told you he didn’t mean any of it. 

You believe him, of course. You’d be crazy not to believe him. He’s Megumi, he’s sensible and doesn’t mean any of it, like he said.

So why is it so hard for you to get up and go get the damn face masks?

I will not comform to awkwardness.

You stand up and march to his bedroom door, tapping lightly, “Can I come in, Megumi?”

“Yes.”

You make sure to leave the door a little open when you enter his room. 

Same as always, navy blue and white and everything so neatly organised you think back to Maki’s idea of him being a serial killer. He’s too perfect that there must be something he’s hiding.

“Hi.”

You’re so away with looking around his room that when your eyes finally fall on the boy sitting on the bed, reading a book, you freeze. His deep voice catches you off guard.

“Hey, uh, Tsumiki wanted the face masks.”

“Oh uhhh.” Megumi gets off his bed and walks over to his neatly arranged desk, past you, almost knocking you down with one shoulder. Was he always this broad? The guy was almost towering you.

He files through some things before finding a basket full of Tsumiki’s skincare as you tamper down the thought. It’s weird, you can’t be thinking like that, “Here…”

It’s awkward as you take it from him.

You’re about to turn around and go back to Tsumiki’s room when you say, “Let’s not make it awkward.”

I’m the one making it awkward, not him. Why would I say that?

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s just…I don’t want Tsumiki to think anything is off between us.”

“Definitely.”

You nod, smile and make your way out of the room. That is, until you bump into Maki outside.

When you lock eyes with Maki, you know she’s already seen what happened inside the room but you don’t make a big deal out of it, “Cookies ready?”

“It’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

The two of you walked to the room like nothing happened. 

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[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 296

A Most Holy Man/The Woman Who Fell to Earth

“A Most Holy Man”

Plot Description: in search of a key component for creating a rift, Sam and Dean head west and become entangled in a web of characters pursuing a Maltese relic

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: can’t tell if that nun died, but I wouldn’t be a nun, soooooo

Oh good we have another red headed woman ❤️ ooooo, Dean’s mad or at least annoyed that she’s hitting on Sam and not him

Don’t you think Cas could have told them what a most holy man meant BEFORE leaving?? Sure, a saint is a good guess, but this wouldn’t be our first mission for nothing if they’re wrong or can’t get it

Oh sure. No big deal, just steal the skull of St Peter from a notorious mob boss in exchange for the blood of St Ignatius…

You know who could have been so useful right about now? Bela, morally charcoal loml

I’m now suspicious of everyone they meet in this hotel. But mostly the guy they literally ran into on the elevator

But maybe he’s TOO suspicious and I should be looking at the woman who was trading the spn book

You’re not wrong, Dean, but while being held not QUITE hostage by a mob boss who knows that legally speaking you’re already dead so no one would care if you died now is not the time to point out that the relics he had stolen for him already had a home

Can’t believe (by which I mean I really can believe) they got suckered into being mob lackeys

Aw year! Elevator guy is back!! Man, I gotta be way more basic in who I suspect

Elevator guy is a priest just trying to buy the skull back for his congregation? I’m not entirely buying the story but we’re like half way through the episode so I might as well for now

…istg, if they end up getting this priest’s blood and that’s enough? What if HE is “a most holy man”? Because I really think we might be heading that way after the priest’s speech about always trying to do good despite the failings of the world

They are still very much gonna try to steal that skull back, and I’m glad Sam convinced Dean to do it for this Maltese priest rather than the mob boss or the greedy relic dealer

This IS quite the web of characters. We’ve circled back to the redhead and she’s practically auctioning it between the two bad guys

Lmao “I’m creating a distraction” he says because lying is a sin

Are all the bad guys gonna shoot each other and Sam will emerge victorious with the skull? This is quite the ridiculous episode

Oh no. Oh ok. The bullet that shot the priest just grazed him

I knewwwww they’d get the priest’s blood because he’s “a most holy man”

Oh Sammy…you can’t stop all the bad in the world, you just have to do what you can

“The Woman Who Fell to Earth”

Plot Description: a mysterious woman, unable to remember her own name, falls from the Sheffield night sky

This forest is gorgeous and it’s so close to some really great hills, I almost don’t care about the sci-fi stuff happening

I say that and then a blue pod shows up and…that is interesting

Not saying I’m not interested in the people who the Doctor will be surrounding herself with for the next three seasons or however long each of them last, but I just kind of want to meet Thirteen now. It’s been a WHILE since the beginning of the episode

There she is!!

The cgi would have never been this good in the old days

This dude who just wants off the train and to go to work and forget all of this is so relatable

Poor Ryan. Can’t stop anyone from talking about how he can’t ride a bike

Ah fuck another pod thing has landed somewhere else

So this other alien looks like a swirling ball of dark spaghetti and blue electricity

Wait but this one had a different (yet somewhat related??) alien

AND Thirteen and her crew have dna bombs implanted in them by the first alien?

It’s frustrating starting all over with a whole new set of characters, especially when they all know each other and have an established rapport. Like, it was one thing to get Amy and a little bit of Rory right off the bat when Ten became Eleven, but we established something between Eleven and Amy first. I don’t want this to feel as off putting as it is. But I know at least three of the four new characters are going to be featured with Thirteen

Thirteen should have been allowed to keep the goggles she wore when creating her new sonic screwdriver. Think it would have gone well with the overalls and long coat

Oh nooooo, the guy who just wanted to get on with his life after the traumatic encounter with the Doctor and another alien is being hunted by a THIRD alien?? (The second we encountered not including the Doctor) HE’s the randomly designated prey? He just wanted to go to work…

OSHA would have so much to say about what’s going on at this construction site. So would whatever the UK version is

She’s mad she’s shorter now and i can’t blame her

I like Ryan’s mom. We haven’t had a really good companion mom since Jackie. Martha’s mom wasn’t horribly but Ryan’s mom seems so much cooler

FUCK. NO. I was just saying how cool she is…and they kill her off?!?! (I missed the part where she was actually his grandma? In my defense, I had the volume low because Megumi was sleeping)

I like Jodie’s accent

No but honestly the long coat with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows is such a look. I love it

Of course she zapped them right along with her, even if by accident

[percontaion-points]

Court (Crave #4) chapters 0-3

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Prologue

0 Fake It Till It Breaks You —Hudson— 

I’ll allow it for the prologue, but you’re on thin ice.

I’m going to lose it if this book introduces alternating first person POV. 

And when I finally surrender to my fate, I’m afraid it will destroy us all.

Prologue summary: Grace and Hudson sit around Hudson’s room at the school. Flint is being taken care of in the nearest hospital, but sent everybody non-essential away. Now Hudson watches his mate endlessly checking for messages about Flint’s condition that haven’t come in yet. We aren’t exactly off to a good start, especially when you realise that there’s close to 1k pages and 178 chapters. 

Chapter 1

Which is just another way of saying we are completely screwed. Again.

Chapter 1 summary: An unknown amount of time later, everybody sits around in the infirmary and kind of goes “Well shit.” And I get that now’s a good of a time as any to sit around and sulk about a sucky situation, but at the same time… Literally the first two and a half pages of chapter one are nothing but this sulking. It got old before the end of the first page, and by the time that somebody finally bothered to speak, I wanted to chuck something at one of them. 

Somebody mentions that they have to tell Luca’s parents that he’s dead. That there’s literally a 48 hour window before a dead vampire’s body turns into dust. That his family deserves to bury their son. Somebody else points out that since Luca’s family are obviously vampires, they don’t know whose side they would be on. Calling them, even to give a notification of death, would be playing Russian roulette with word getting back to Cyrus. This divides everybody into groups of those who agree that no contact is the way to go, vs those who would tell the grieving parents that their son is dead. 

Chapter 2

With those dark emotions flashing over their expressions, the Order shifts so that they’re all standing at Jaxon’s back as he faces off against Hudson.

I literally can’t even. How the fuck do they expect to take down Cyrus when literally one thing set them off?

“Now we wait,” Hudson answers, his eyes on the door Jaxon just disappeared through. “And hope we’re not making a huge mistake.”

Chapter 2 summary: The group is so divided about this that it literally almost comes to blows. I’m not kidding; they all get up and choose their side. Grace stands in between them and reminds them of how unsafe that it is. But if things were ready to come to a literal fist-fight, then I don’t think that her reminder convinced anybody.

Marise tells them that she can stay at the school, while the group goes somewhere safer. But they all agree that they’re not going to leave Marise behind, no matter what. 

Eventually, it’s decided that if they don’t notify Luca’s family, that they’d be no better than Cyrus. Hudson sits back, clearly waiting for his “I told you so” moment. 

Chapter 3

“But our magic is tied to our soul. If Cyrus is trying to siphon it, he’ll end up killing them!”

Cyrus literally led a genocide against the gargoyles. You think he gives a shit if children die?

But now, realizing he might only want them for their magic, that he has no need to keep them alive after he’s taken what he wants from them, I can’t believe I took the time for a shower. Or—oh my God—actually made out with Hudson while students might be dying. 

…Okay. And? You don’t have a plan. You have like a dozen exhausted and injured SCHOOL CHILDREN on your side. And the school nurse, who is also injured. 

What exactly are you planning to do? 

“Luca’s parents are leaving now.” His face is grim, his eyes infinite pools of grief. “They’ll be here by morning.”

Chapter 3 summary: As Marise fusses over Flint, they try to ask what happened. She doesn’t have a lot to say. Except that she’s pretty sure that Cyrus took the kids not as hostages or for leverage, but to drain them of their magic and toss them aside. The thought makes Grace full of guilt that she took some time to take care of her own needs. 

Eventually, there’s literally nothing for them to do except to stand around and listen as Marise gives care instructions for Flint’s broken leg. They all stand and act like Flint’s care is the single most important thing in the entire world. 

Jaxon eventually tells them that he contacted Luca’s parents; they’ll be there in the morning.