#I hope there's no glaring issues in this cuz I rushed it

[zzzx009]

doodles of my beautiful elegant wife 🥰

[pedroscowgirl]

A Younger Revelation

Hugh jackman x female!reader

Part 2

Warnings: smut! Minors, DNI!!

Age gap (reader is their (mid) 20s), p in v, creampie (wrap it up), choking, hugh is posessive (?) , daddy issues (i can't help it) and squirting

lmk if i missed some!

Words: 4.5k

A/N: I saw a few ppl say that hugh (and his son) are into older women and i just had to write something about it cuz i want to be his controversial younger gf i hope you like it!

You and Hugh had been friends for over three years, ever since you starred in a movie together. The on-screen chemistry was profound, and off-screen, it quickly turned into a deep, genuine friendship. But as time passed, you began to notice a shift in your feelings. It wasn't just admiration for his talent or his kind-hearted nature, it was something far more intense. You had always been drawn to older men, a fascination born from perhaps, some unresolved issues with your father. It was a part of yourself you had come to understand, but with Hugh, it became an irresistible pull.

The age difference was glaring. Hugh was closer to your parents' age, even older than your dad. The thought of being attracted to him felt wrong, almost taboo, like a secret you shouldn't entertain. Yet, the more you were around him, the more you craved his presence, his voice, the comforting maturity he exuded. The way he moved, the timbre of his laughter, and the warmth in his eyes, it all made you want him even more. It didn't help that you had come across interviews and internet whispers, and even a hint from his ex-wife, all pointing to his preference for older women. It stung, knowing that you probably weren't his type, but it didn't stop the fantasies from consuming you.

One evening, the two of you sat on the terrace of his apartment, sipping wine under the silver glow of the moon. The city lights twinkled in the distance, but the world felt confined to the small space you shared. It was a beautiful, quiet night, and the air was thick with unspoken words. You had always enjoyed these moments with Hugh, comfortable, intimate, and filled with a sense of ease that belied the complexity of your feelings. But tonight, the tension felt different, more visible. The usual comfort was tinged with a sharp undercurrent of desire.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to break the silence. "You know," you began, your voice soft and deliberate, "we have something in common." Hugh glanced at you, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "We're both attracted to older people."

He paused, his glass halfway to his lips, caught off guard. You saw the confusion in his eyes as he processed your words. "You're attracted to older women," you continued, watching as his expression shifted. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. The tension in the air thickened, and you felt a heady rush of adrenaline. "And I'm attracted to older men."

Hugh choked on his wine, coughing slightly as he set his glass down. The look of surprise on his face was priceless, but you pressed on, feeling bolder with every word. "Have you ever tried a younger woman?" you asked, your voice dropping to a sultry, almost teasing tone. You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin. "Don't you ever crave it? The energy, the freshness... the excitement?"

He looked at you, a mix of shock and intrigue in his eyes. There was a visible shift in the atmosphere, the air charged with a new kind of tension. Hugh's gaze darkened, his eyes roaming over your face, then down your body, as if seeing you in a new light. He swallowed again, visibly trying to maintain his composure. "Sweetheart," he began, his voice low and rough, "I'm too old for you."

You tilted your head, a sly smile playing on your lips. "But you know what it's like to be into that," you said, leaning in so close that your lips nearly brushed his. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. "Maybe you could try something different, something... younger."

Before you could second-guess yourself, Hugh's hands were on you, pulling you onto his lap with a smooth, assertive motion. The sudden intimacy made your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the firmness of his chest beneath your hands. His grip on your hips was possessive, his fingers digging in just enough to send a thrill through you. The reality of the situation hit you—this was happening.

Hugh looked up at you, his eyes intense and filled with a mix of desire and conflict. "I mean," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, "we can try something, and I'll get back to you on that." His words were laced with a sensual promise, an unspoken agreement that sent a rush of heat through your veins.

You felt the weight of the moment, the gravity of what you were about to do. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. You could feel the slight tremor in his hands, a testament to the struggle between his self-control and the desire simmering beneath the surface.

Leaning in, you whispered against his lips, "Let's see where this goes." The tension was unbearable, the air thick with anticipation. And then, finally, his lips met yours. The kiss was slow and exploratory at first, a tentative test of boundaries. But it quickly deepened, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only the sensation of his lips, the taste of wine, and the electric connection that sparked between you.

In that moment, everything else faded away. The doubts, the fears, the societal norms—they all melted into the background. All that mattered was the way he made you feel, the way your body responded to his touch, and the intoxicating promise of what was to come.

As you broke the kiss, a delicious tension lingered in the air, thick with the promise of more. Sitting on Hugh's lap, you felt the heat of his body radiate through his clothes and into your skin. His hands, strong and sure, moved from your hips to your ass, squeezing gently. The intimate touch made your breath hitch, and your eyes locked with his, the burning gaze between you sparking an electric connection.

"I'll admit, you're a good kisser," he whispered, his voice low and dripping with that irresistible Australian accent. The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but bite your lip, savouring the compliment. "You're not so bad yourself," you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips. He chuckled softly, his eyes briefly dropping to your chest, where the rise and fall of your breath betrayed your growing anticipation.

Hugh's hand slowly slid from your ass up to your shoulder, the touch sending a trail of warmth in its wake. With a deliberate slowness, he hooked a finger under the thin strap of your tank top, pulling it down with a teasing grin. The fabric slipped off your shoulder, revealing more of your skin, and you felt the cool night air against your bare breast, sending a jolt of awareness through you. You weren't wearing a bra, and the sudden exposure made you feel both vulnerable and excited.

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of awe crossing his face as he took in the sight of you. "Beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself, before he leaned in closer. His other hand joined in, deftly removing your top entirely. As the fabric fell away, leaving you bare from the waist up, you felt a delicious thrill of exposure, the night air cool against your skin. Hugh's gaze was hot and heavy, his admiration evident as he took in the sight of your nakedness. You could see the desire in his eyes, mirrored by the lust in your own.

Feeling his intensity, you felt a flush spread across your cheeks, your breathing growing shallow. There was something incredibly erotic about the way he looked at you, fully clothed in his short-sleeved shirt that highlighted his toned arms and muscular biceps. The contrast made you feel even more exposed, more vulnerable, and yet, it was thrilling. Before you could say anything, he leaned in, his lips capturing your nipple. The sensation sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, making you gasp.

Your hands instinctively reached for his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as his mouth worked its magic. He alternated between soft licks and gentle bites, each touch sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you. Your hips began to move on their own, grinding against him as you sought more friction, more connection. You could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against you through the fabric of his pants, and the knowledge of his desire only heightened your own.

As his mouth continued its sweet torment on your sensitive skin, your body responded eagerly. Every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, sent sparks of pleasure straight to your core. You arched into him, wanting more, needing more. The feel of his warm, wet mouth on your nipple was intoxicating, and you couldn't help the soft moans that escaped your lips.

Hugh's free hand roamed up and down your back, caressing and holding you close as if grounding himself in the reality of this moment. The feeling of his hands on you, the weight of his body beneath you, and the heat of his mouth all combined to create an intoxicating mix of sensations. You felt powerful and utterly desired, lost in the pleasure of the moment and the knowledge that this man, who had seemed untouchable, was now very much within your grasp.

As you continued to grind against him, the friction and heat built up between you, each movement sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Hugh's breathing grew ragged, his grip on you tightening as he responded to your movements. His mouth left your nipple, trailing kisses up to your neck, where he nibbled softly, drawing another gasp from you.

You felt like you were on fire, every nerve ending alight with desire. The air was thick with the scent of wine and the heady musk of arousal, and you knew there was no turning back. The night had taken a turn into the forbidden, and you were more than willing to explore this uncharted territory with him.

As Hugh's lips lavished warm kisses on your breast, each touch sending electric jolts through your body, you felt an irresistible urge to feel more of him, to uncover the mystery beneath his shirt. Your fingers moved with a mind of their own, sliding up his torso and curling into the fabric, giving a gentle tug. It was a subtle yet unmistakable sign for him to undress. He paused, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you, a playful grin spreading across his face. His hands moved to the hem of his shirt, peeling it off with an effortless grace that left you breathless.

As the shirt fell away, revealing the sculpted lines of his chest and the ripple of muscles beneath his skin, your eyes widened in astonishment. You couldn't help but let out a soft, appreciative gasp. "You have an amazing build for your age," you murmured, your voice tinged with genuine admiration and a hint of awe.

Hugh's smile widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "You know what else is great for my age? My stamina," he replied, his tone dripping with confidence and a hint of mischief. The promise in his words sent a delicious shiver down your spine. You bit your lip, the anticipation making your pulse race. "Let's test that out," you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper but full of bold intent.

Without a moment's hesitation, Hugh's hands found your waist. With an effortless strength that took your breath away, he lifted you and set you down on the cold surface of the terrace table. The sudden contrast of the cool marble against your warm skin made you jolt, a soft gasp escaping your lips. It was a shock that only heightened the pleasure coursing through you.

His hands worked at the buttons of your pants, sliding them down your legs and casting them aside. You felt exposed, vulnerable, yet undeniably excited. The night air kissed your skin, adding to the thrill of the moment. Hugh's eyes roamed over you with a hunger that made your heart pound. As his fingers trailed down your thighs and found their way to your wetness, a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Aren't you a little embarrassed?" he teased, his voice a low, seductive purr. "To be this wet for a man older than your own father?" His words were provocative, laced with a taboo allure that made your cheeks flush. You knew there was a truth in what he said, but the forbidden nature of it only heightened your desire. Hugh was unlike any man you'd ever known—there was a raw, magnetic allure about him that drew you in, making you forget about the world beyond this terrace.

He was a god in human form, exuding a potent mix of masculinity and confidence. His touch was confident and assured, his fingers exploring you with an intimate knowledge that made your body sing. The cool night air combined with the warmth of his hands created a heady contrast that made you moan softly. Hugh's thumb found your clit, and he began to circle it with a tantalizing slowness, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "You're so responsive," he murmured, the huskiness of his voice sending a thrill down your spine. Then, with deliberate slowness, he pushed a finger inside you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, your body arching towards him, craving more of his touch. The intensity of your desire was palpable, a living, breathing thing that consumed you.

"Already?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'm not even inside you yet." You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully, which only made him chuckle. There was a warmth in his laughter, a sound that wrapped around you and heightened the anticipation building between you. "Go ahead then, go inside me," you dared him, but the words came out more like a plea, your voice breathy with need.

Hugh's expression shifted, his eyes darkening with lust. "My god, you're such a slut for me," he said, his voice thick with desire. The crude declaration sent a jolt of excitement through you, making your heart race. "Fuck yes, Hugh, I am," you confessed, the honesty in your voice making your cheeks burn. It was liberating, admitting just how badly you wanted him, and his smirk told you he relished every word.

"Fine, I'll give you what you want," he murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his face. With deliberate slowness, he unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the floor. The sight of him, hard and ready, made you swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry with anticipation. You couldn't help but stare, your eyes tracing every inch of him, the primal hunger in your gaze unmistakable.

Then, as if breaking the spell, Hugh looked up, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Oh, I don't have a condom with me," he suddenly said, a hint of concern in his voice. You barely hesitated, the words tumbling out before you could think. "It's okay, I'm on the pill." The moment hung in the air, the intimacy of the situation crystal clear. His eyes darkened further, a predatory gleam shining in them as he absorbed your words.

"If you say so, babygirl," he murmured, his voice low. He positioned himself at your entrance, and with a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered you. The sudden fullness made you gasp, your hands gripping the edges of the table for support as your back arched involuntarily. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that made your mind go blank.

Hugh groaned, his head tilting back as he savoured the feeling. "Gosh, you feel so delicious around me," he breathed out, his voice laced with raw desire. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he began to move, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Better than anything you've had before?" you managed to ask, your voice shaky with the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. It was a question born of curiosity and a bit of pride, wanting to know if he felt the same electric connection that you did. His response was a low, guttural moan, his eyes locking onto yours with a fiery intensity.

"Much better," he rasped, his voice dripping with sincerity. His movements became more urgent, more insistent, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The rhythm he set was intoxicating, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. You could feel the table beneath you shaking with the force of his movements, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat building inside you.

Hugh's hand slid up your body, fingers tracing the curve of your spine, sending shivers through you. His touch was both gentle and possessive, a reminder of the power he held over you in this moment. The pleasure built to a crescendo, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like you might explode. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was the delicious friction and the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he could scarcely believe the intensity of the moment. The praise sent a thrill through you, pushing you even closer to the edge. You could feel him pulse inside you, every inch of him fitting perfectly, as if he was made for you.

As the intensity of the moment reached its peak, Hugh's thrusts grew even more purposeful, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You felt a different kind of pressure building within you, a sensation that was new, raw, and overwhelming. It was as if your body was responding to him in ways it never had before, every nerve electrified by his touch.

Sensing the shift, Hugh slowed his pace slightly, maintaining a deep, steady rhythm that drove you wild. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I can feel it, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. "You're so close. Let go for me. I want to feel you come apart."

The deep timbre of his voice and the promise in his words sent you spiraling. The pressure inside you continued to mount, reaching an almost unbearable level. You gasped, clutching the edge of the table as if it were a lifeline, your body shaking with the effort to hold back. But Hugh was relentless, his thrusts hitting just the right spot, coaxing you closer to the edge.

He placed a firm hand on your lower abdomen, pressing down gently. "Just let go, sweetheart," he urged, his voice soft yet commanding. "I want you to let it all out. Don't hold back." His words were like a key, unlocking something deep within you. The sensation became too much to contain, a dam about to burst.

With a strangled cry, you felt the floodgates open. A powerful wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing as you squirted, a hot rush of release that left you trembling. The sensation was so intense, so utterly consuming, that you could hardly breathe. Your vision blurred, and your mind blanked out everything but the exquisite feeling coursing through you. Hugh's eyes never left yours, a satisfied, almost possessive smile playing on his lips. "That's it, baby," he coaxed, his voice dripping with pride and satisfaction. "Let it all out. You're amazing."

As the intense waves of your orgasm began to subside, Hugh didn't slow down. Instead, he kept the pressure steady, his thrusts deep and precise, as if he was determined to draw every last ounce of pleasure from you. Just when you thought you couldn't handle any more, he reached up and wrapped a hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to send another thrill of excitement coursing through your body. The sensation of his strong hand on your neck, combined with the powerful thrusts inside you, was intoxicating.

He leaned in close, his eyes locking onto yours with a dark, possessive intensity. "I'm gonna cum in you sweet girl" he growled, his voice low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. The weight of his words hung in the air, adding a dangerous edge to the moment. "And you can never spill it, okay? Or I won't fuck you ever again." There was an undeniable authority in his voice, a challenge that made your heart race even faster.

The combination of his hand around your throat and the raw dominance in his voice sent you spiraling into another wave of pleasure. You nodded, breathless, barely able to form words. "Okay," you managed to gasp, your voice strained with the pressure on your neck and the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

"Good girl," he murmured, a satisfied smirk on his lips. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to leave you breathless. You felt him pulse inside you, his release hot and thick, filling you completely. The sensation pushed you over the edge once more, your body arching towards him as you came again, the intensity almost too much to bear.

Hugh groaned, the sound deep and primal, as he found his release. His hand around your throat loosened, his fingers caressing your skin in a tender contrast to the roughness of his thrusts. The mixture of gentle and rough was intoxicating, leaving you utterly spent and completely satisfied.

"No young man has ever made me feel this way," you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with awe. The admission felt both liberating and surprising, as if you'd just discovered a new facet of yourself.

Hugh's smile widened, his eyes darkening with a mix of pride and desire. "That's because no young man knows how to treat a woman like you," he murmured, his fingers gently stroking your cheek. "You've got so much passion inside you, and I'm just the man to bring it out."

You looked up at him, a playful smile curling your lips. "So, have I changed your mind? Are you not into older women anymore?" you teased, your voice light and flirtatious. Hugh paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. The question seemed to catch him off guard, but his response was swift and sincere.

"Babygirl," he began, a slow smile spreading across his face, "I can only think about your pussy right now." His blunt honesty made your heart flutter, a delicious thrill coursing through you at his words. It was as if nothing else existed for him in that moment but you, and the intensity of his focus made you feel desired in a way you hadn't experienced before.

Still, amidst the raw passion, there was a tenderness in his gaze that reassured you. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his large hands. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern. It was a simple question, but it spoke volumes about the kind of man he was, capable of both dominance and deep care. You nodded, feeling a warm glow spread through your chest.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a sweet, loving kiss. It was a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic passion from moments before, and it left you breathless in an entirely different way. The kiss was tender, lingering, as if he was savouring the moment. When he pulled back, his eyes were warm, a soft smile on his lips.

With gentle hands, Hugh reached down to pull your panties back on, his touch careful and deliberate. He made sure nothing spilled out, his fingers grazing your sensitive skin, sending a shiver through you. As he adjusted the fabric, he leaned down and pressed a light, teasing kiss over your clit through the thin material. The unexpected gesture made you gasp, your body jolting with a mix of surprise and lingering desire.

Your legs felt weak, trembling slightly from the intensity of everything that had just transpired. Hugh chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your stomach flip. "Next time, we'll just do it in bed," he said with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You couldn't help but laugh, the tension breaking into a shared moment of light-heartedness. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the playful banter, felt like a perfect culmination of the intense connection you shared.

Together, you went back inside while Hugh was holding you bridal style. The cool air giving way to the warmth of the house. The bathroom was steamy as Hugh turned on the shower, the sound of running water filling the space. Without missing a beat, he scooped you back up into his strong arms, cradling you against his chest. His strength was evident as he carried you with ease, his touch reassuring and protective. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath your fingertips.

As the warm water cascaded over you both, it felt like a cleansing, a washing away of everything but the present moment. Hugh held you close, his hands roaming your wet skin with a mix of possessiveness and reverence. The water created a curtain around you, isolating you in a cocoon of heat and steam.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pressed you against the shower wall, the cool tiles a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, the water pouring over you both adding to the intensity. It was a hot make out session, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate fervour that left you breathless. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as the kiss deepened, turning into something more primal and urgent.

The way he kissed you, hungry, demanding, yet tender—was intoxicating. You felt enveloped by him, his presence overpowering in the best possible way. Every touch, every kiss, was a promise of more to come, a hint at the depths of his desire for you. The water flowed over you, mingling with your sweat, as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment.

As you finally pulled away, gasping for breath, you rested your forehead against his, both of you panting from the intensity of the kiss. Hugh's eyes were dark with desire, a satisfied smirk on his lips. You knew that this was just the beginning, that the connection you shared was far from over. The shower may have been meant to cleanse, but instead, it became another chapter in your shared passion, a testament to the chemistry that crackled between you like an unquenchable fire.

dm me if u want to be in my taglist!!

Taglist:

@melaninjoys @ermlady @haytchee @elloredef

[eggluverz]

danheng and reader are interns at the same company and there’s one sided beef from reader’s end cuz they’re trying to compete with him but he’s clueless and just thinks she’s hardworking and cute 😭

— THE INTERNS

In which you view your internship as a competition and Dan Heng is simply attracted to your hard work and determination.

PAIRING. dan heng x f!reader

WORD COUNT. 1788

GENRE. modern au. rivals? to lovers?

NOTE. ty anon for this super fun request!! <3 clueless dan heng the loml… and reader is so chaotic ngl alsjdkdl i hope u enjoy !! ^-^

“Can somebody handle the emails from the Realm-Keeping Commission?” Mr. Yang asked as he rushed through the intern’s cubicle area. He had a cup of tea in one hand and a handful of folders in the other. “They’ve had a recent breach of contract issue so we should be getting an influx shortly.”

“I can handle it!” you immediately spoke up, sparing your cubicle-mate a brief glance. You had a smile on your face but your eyes were urging him not to butt in.

Dan Heng smiled back. “I’ll help her.”

“Great.” Mr. Yang nodded in appreciation. “We have such hard-working interns this year.“

Your eye twitched as you replied, “Right. Great.”

Once the intern director left, you turned to glare at Dan Heng. He was nonchalantly typing on his computer, no doubt responding to the Commission’s emails already. A job that you should’ve been doing alone. Alongside a million other things that naturally came with being an unpaid intern.

You wanted to prove yourself here. The Astral Express was well known in the industry and you wanted nothing more than a job offer after the internship. But how could you possibly secure that when Dan Heng constantly stole your shine? You had to keep pushing. Keep striving to do more and impress your bosses.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Dan Heng. “If you have too much on your plate, I can take care of the emails today.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you frowned in indignation. “You think I can’t handle it?”

He titled his head to the side. The innocent look on his face made you more upset. You couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or if he truly believed you were someone pitiful who needed constant help.

“Of course you can handle it,” he reassured. “I don’t doubt that. I just don’t want you to take on too much of the workload. I’ve noticed you push yourself quite a lot.”

You shook your head. “I’m not pushing myself too much. I can do it.”

Dan Heng’s gaze softened. “You know yourself best. But I just hope you don’t overwork yourself too hard. We’re only unpaid interns, remember.”

You puffed your cheeks indignantly. Of course he could say something like that and still be a top performer. “Thanks for the consideration, but don’t worry about me. Now, if you’ll excuse me… I better get back to work.”

He only nodded in response.

As you started scanning through the emails on your computer, responding to the ones you have already finished, you felt Dan Heng still looking at you. You turned your face away from his desk so you wouldn’t be directly in his field of vision, unsure why he was staring but not really wanting to find out. Besides, you had more important things to get to. How could you possibly get more work done than Dan Heng if you were too busy worrying about why he kept looking at you?

Perhaps his innocence was a facade and he was playing mind games to slow you down.

With a huff of determination, you worked extra fast, not wanting to let his plan succeed. He’d have to do better than that to win.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

It was your lunch break the next day and for the first time since you started (except for those times Mr. Yang wanted to take the interns out for lunch), you were not eating at your desk to work through the lunch period.

Apparently, HR was visiting the office so you all had to follow all the policies, no matter how silly anyone found them.

Instead of your desk, you were eating at a shaded seating area outside of the office. If you weren’t going to work through your break, you might as well enjoy it and get a breath of fresh air while you were at it. With your high ambition and willingness to push yourself for this internship, you were aware it probably seemed like you were a workaholic of sorts. That wasn’t exactly true.

You saw the important of work-life balance and valued it, but you also figured an internship is where you were supposed to work extra hard. Then, once you secured the job, you would be free to relax.

You took a bite of your sandwich you packed as you stared off at the gently swaying trees in the distance.

“Hey.” You almost jumped at the sudden sound. “Can I join you?”

You slowly turned towards Dan Heng, blinking. First, he tormented you in the office as an intern who provided ample competition. Now, he wanted to torment you during your lunch too?

Despite your inner thoughts, you didn’t want to be rude. Deep down you knew he was also just an intern doing his best. You just had to do better.

“Sure,” you acknowledged. “Have a seat, nemesis.” The words escaped your mouth before you could stop yourself. “I mean… Dan Heng…”

His brows furrowed. “I find it hard to believe those two words could get confused so easily.”

You cleared your throat. “Not sure what you mean.” Before Dan Heng could respond, you changed the subject. “What did you bring for lunch?”

As he sat next to you, he showed you his opened tupperware. It contained the yummiest smelling food with very neat presentation. You figured it probably tasted even better than it smelled or looked.

“I packed a bento box for today.”

You looked down at your soggy sandwich. Was even lunch a competition to him? Did he have to be the best at everything? You vowed to look up the most intricate lunch recipe and show it off to him once you made it.

He looked at your sandwich wordlessly before taking a bite of tender meat.

Your face burned in shame.

Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow you’d show him.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

Today, your internship started around noon. It wasn’t a whole day of work and you knew fully well you didn’t need to pack lunch. Still, you stayed up all night perfecting this recipe and you had to show Dan Heng you were worthy competition as well. You even made enough servings to pack a meal for Dan Heng to try too.

Towards the middle of your shift, you walked over to his desk.

He paused his typing and looked up at you. “Can I help you?”

You held out a tupperware of your homemade food. “Look. I made this.”

Dan Heng’s eyes widened as he cautiously took the container from your hands. “For me?”

“Yeah. I saw your bento box yesterday and wanted to prove that I can also cook! Just like I can do all the work we’re assigned!”

Confusion was written all over his face but he still managed to smile. “First, thank you for making this for me.”

You looked at him, equally confused. Why did he sound so sincere? You simply wanted to prove a point. Not do something out of the kindness of your heart.

“Second,” he continued, “I do agree you can do all the work we’re given. Have I made you feel like I believe otherwise?”

“Not exactly… It’s just you keep offering to help me even when I say I’ll do it!” you explained passionately. “You keep trying to steal my work and do more than me!”

Dan Heng blinked, mouth opening then closing. He opened his mouth once more, trying again. “I wasn’t aware you viewed it as me stealing your work.” He rested his chin on his hand as he thought things through. “I didn’t want you overexerting yourself so I was only trying to help ease your workload… I’m sorry for undermining your hard work.”

“You’re not doing it on purpose?”

“No. I admire your determination and how you always step up to the task— I would never want to take away from that,” he said earnestly. His stare was unwavering as he looked into your eyes. “I more than admire it, actually. I find it quite attractive even.”

You gaped at him, unmoving. “Huh?”

“Attractive, endearing, cute… Do you need more synonyms?”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself.

Dan Heng nodded. “Well, I was referring to your work ethic. But yes. You as well.”

You bashfully stood up straighter. “You’re not too bad yourself, I suppose.”

That wasn’t a lie. You did find Dan Heng rather attractive. His hair was dark and messy, falling around his eyes in a way you could only describe as perfectly framing the vibrant blues. He had a pretty face and a serious demeanor that initially drew you to him— Until he started competing (as you saw it, at least) with you in your internship.

As you stared at each other in silence, Mr. Yang came in with a stack of papers. “Good afternoon, everyone. Can someone run an audit of the company’s stocks?”

You jumped up, startled. You didn’t except to be interrupted like that, but you quickly regained your composure, rushing over to him to grab the papers. A part of you was thankful for the distraction, but another part of you wanted to see where it would’ve lead. “I can do the audit!”

“Great, thank you!” he said in acknowledgment before rushing back out.

Once Mr. Yang left, Dan Heng turned to you and said, “Let me know if you need any help. I’m here if you need.”

You smiled. Now that you knew he wasn’t trying to best you, you were much more open to the idea of working together. “Sure, I’d love some help.” You paused and Dan Heng raised one brow. Though it came from the heart and the sentiment was there, you both knew it wasn’t completely true. You still did want to be the very best after all. “Well… You can help, but only a little though.”

Dan Heng laughed, accepting the small stack of papers you gave him, not even one fourth as tall as your pile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

You hummed in agreement. Before focusing on your work, you thought of one small thing to ask him. “Hey, Dan Heng?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe next week you can bring me some lunch, too? Or, maybe we could go out for dinner even…”

“I’d love to,” Dan Heng smiled and it was the widest grin you’ve seen on his face thus far, “if you give me more of your paperwork.”

You gasped, feeling thoroughly tricked. So he did want to beat you—?

“That way, we can finish sooner and I can take you to dinner tonight.”

Your train of thoughts stopped in their tracks as a light chuckle escaped your lips. “Fine,” you agreed, finding yourself strangely looking forward to having dinner with him. “But just this once, okay?”

“Of course.”

dan heng: *stares at reader*

reader: he’s playing mind games to make me nervous and slow me down

dan heng: she’s hardworking and passionate and so cute u.u

[moriartyluver]

Hello dear! I'm really glad to find your blog cuz i've been searching for new writers for the past two days, so here's my request: student sherlock x reader (it'd be nice it they were 16 since i'm that age). Remember that scene on Noahitic (idk if it written like this?) When some women were asking Sherly to guess pepole living? Ok it happens in the class where some asshole girls hate reader and askes him to guess her living, they thought she wasn't hearing but she definetly did so when he was about to talk about her she stopped him saying that's her private life which made him curious about her and the girls got pissed and started arguing with her, for his surprise she has a good speech and she kept pissing them off till he stopped them, at lunch time he asked her to have the meal together, they chatted and laughed togehter and he fell so hard for her. Uummmm, I know it's long and really sorry for that T_T (if you could do pt 2 tell me pls so i can tell you the rest in my mind🙈 really sorry for bothering❤)

A/N: thank you for your request and you are absolutely not a bother at all!! I’m very excited for this because I’ve never written for Sherlock before but I’ll do my best! I hope you like it <3

warnings: bullying, mentions of age gap (not between reader and Sherlock)

Character: Sherlock Holmes from Moriarty The Patriot x reader

Genre: fluff?? Angst?? Just general ig

Prompt: above ^^

format : oneshot

University lectures were always boring. The sound of the chalk scratching against h the dry blackboard was going to be the death of you. Still, not many people like yourself got a chance at learning in a university so you sucked it up and continued writing your notes as ink stained your fingers.

Once the bell rang to signal the lecture was over, you rushed in the direction of the library, careful not to accidentally bump into anyone, especially not your classmates.

Because you were a lower class girl who somehow managed to exceed in academics and get into a prestigious university, a lot of people looked down on you and projected their insecurities onto you. Was it wrong of them? Of course. But was it also understandable..?

Nah.

Once the doors on the library had swung open, you prayed that the book you had seen the other day would still be there.

Thankfully, it was. It took you a while to reach onto that top shelf as the university campus was more designed for people…older than your 16 year old self.

Once you had taken the book, your rushed over to your usual seat, only to realise that a group of girls a few years older than you, clearly in the university only to study more feminine courses as told by their wealthy parents, had made themselves comfortable in your usual place.

They were sat surrounding a tired and almost frustrated looking boy who seemed to be your age.

To you, he resembled a bird. A raven to be more precise. His dark locks were tied into a messy ponytail and a small baby hair had turned into a curl on top of his fringe. His dark eyes were narrow and if your looked close enough, you could see faint traces of eye bags and dark circles, indicating he didn’t sleep well.

Now you were faced with an issue. Would you go and tell them that you would like to sit there and stand your ground. Knowing those girls, who disliked you a bit too much to not be considered obsession, they purposely sat there only to annoy you.

Or would it be more suitable for you to walk over to one of the couches in the corner, a good distance away from them so you could read in peace.

You chose the latter, of course.

You walked passed the girls, noticing glared and dirty looks from the corner of your eye as you walked passed. As you sat down, there loud and high pitched giggles, clearly trying to either gain attention from male peers or they were trying to make you jealous of their so called ‘friendship’ that relied so heavily on wealth and status, had resumed.

After a few minutes of reading and then getting distracted, you noticed that the library had gotten quiet. Your eyes remained on the yellowed pages but your attention drifted back to the group of girls surrounding that boy.

They were now speaking at a low whisper. You deduced they were trying to hide something from you based on the glances they gave you and the small gestures in your direction.

As you recalled, the only words you had heard from the tired boys mouths was him making deductions on the lives of other people. Nothing too scandalous just things such as hobbies or pets. You’d seen the girls pester the boy, asking him for more juicy gossip rather than just boring guesses.

Being the quiet kid meant that you had grown used to people talking about you or making remarks such as “I didn’t know she could speak!” In attempts to offend or irritate you but for you, it meant that you succeeded in keeping your personal life private, something very few noblemen and noblewomen could achieve.

You began to eavesdrop on their hushed conversation, and you came to the conclusion that they wanted the raven-boy to make deductions about you.

Sherlock Holmes. That was his name. He had grown popular around campus for his intellect and flawless deductions. It surprised you that you had realised so late as you were almost always aware of everyone and everything going on within the student community. Then again, you had expected him to be slightly more lively and sociable.

‘Maybe the girls were beginning to annoy him too.’ You thought.

“The quite girl in the corner? Well she-“ Sherlock was interrupted by your voice suddenly appearing behind him.

“I’d rather you not gossip about my personal life.” You glanced around at the girls who stood before you with a glare

“You really aren’t all that you think you are, (last name).” One girl chimed in.

“Yeah!” Said another “how do you know we were talking about you anyways? You’re so stuck up! Thinking your worthy of being in such an establishment!”

You deadpanned stay their pathetic attempt to cover up their gossiping habits.

“Really? I understand that you failed most of the tests to get here, Miss Penelope, but surely you could come up with a more intelligent lie.” You raised an eyebrow “or is your smooth brain incapable of such activities?”

“Why you-!”

“So what if we were talking about you? It’s not like you have anything to hide, right, (last name)?” One of the taller ones asked. You hadn’t seen her before so you didn’t know her name. She had long auburn hair and blue eyes that angled upwards to accompany her cat like smile.

“Thankfully I don’t need to hide anything, unlike Miss Sophie’s father who is currently having an affair with a girl of her age but that’s not my business.” You brushed a hand through your hair as you nodded to a blonde girl who was on the verge of tears. “ If your lives are so dull that you have to fantasise about my life, perhaps that’s a you problem. Get a life.” You walked off in silence and sat back down on the couch, smirking secretly at their defeated faces.

Unknown to you, Mr Holmes was watching you, in awe of your ability to shut them down so fast. He was grateful you had given him the opportunity to sneak away and have a cigarette instead of letting his brain cells deteriorate in such foul company.

The older girls of the group had attempted to go and continue arguing with you, hoping you could physically assault them and maybe even get yourself expelled but Sherlock was quick to come to your defence.

“Ladies, if there’s anything I can deduce for you, is that that plan of yours won’t work. Miss (name) is way too calm and composed for that.” He said before giving you a quick glance and then rushing out of the library to have a cigarette before his next lecture.

After the encounter in the library, Sherlock had been thinking about you for ages, hoping to get to know a girl like yourself. Someone who wouldn’t make his brain rot like the rest of his peers.

He was slightly nervous when lunch came about to go and talk to you while you ate in the cafeteria. What if you thought he was pretentious or rude?

Still, he sucked up all his worries and approached you while you sat in the corner, one empty seat opposite you.

“Hey!” He smiled as he sat in front of you. You raised your head to meet his now brighter blue eyes and gave him a polite smile “we met in the library. (Name) (last name), is it?”

“It is. You must be the oh so famous Sherlock Holmes, correct? I heard you could deduce the most interesting things from these perfect nobles.”

“It is I!” He laughed. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?”

“Go ahead. As long as you aren’t anything like those girls from the library…”

“Right, right. Sorry about that-“

“It’s alright. I could tell you didn’t want to be there any less than I did. I’m impressed that you made it out with a fully functioning brain.”

As the conversation continued, Sherlock had only grown more and more infatuated with all the little things you did. The furrowed eyebrows when you thought deeply about something, the fidgeting of your hands indicating you were nervous at first that managed to fade. Everything about you was beautiful to him.

“You don’t mind having a meal together..like soon?”

“How soon?” You asked, a hand pressing against your soft cheek

“Maybe tomorrow? I’d like to get to know you better.” He stuttered, a bit embarrassed.

“I think you’re not the only one. I’ll grant you the ‘honour’ of getting to know me, Sherlock.”

He grinned in triumph “You won’t regret it, (name)!”

As time continued, you and Sherlock had grown close and he could only fall harder and harder with each encounter the two of you shared.

You would always listen to him talk and understand his fast paced and intelligent mind. You reassured him that he was good for you.

You had also grown fond of him. Every little deduction he would make about you made you feel understood for the first time in your life. He never inquired into your personal life although he already knew as much as he needed to.

“What are we, (name)?” He once asked you while he sat next to you, gazing at the night sky.

“Lovers.” You smiled

[multiplefandomsblog]

S/O who lost a bet to Kokichi, punishment being a Maid’s Dress

request; Ooooo, Requests are open! Could I have a female S/O who lost a bet and now has to wear a sexy maid outfit? And Kokichi is just. Eating. It. Up.

warnings; reader lost a bet and has to wear a maid dress, reader uses female pronouns and names, reader uses master(non-sexually), cussing, had to make kaito the ‘bad guy’ for trope reasons lmfao, kokichi gets jealous and possessive, they goof off a ton at the end, overall just fluff without much plot, and i.. i dont even know how to say this, i used this phrase i found from the internet “top 15 embarrassing things to say to strangers” so like,, watch out for that..! ahahahaha-

note; omfg i hate this one so much- most out of all my works, i stg i am the most disappointed in this one. please don’t even read it- i could’ve done so much better ;-; man, i just butchered this like a fricking idiot-- sorry anon!!!! you seriously deserved so much better, i am so sorry. there are so many issues with this- the ending, the cringe, the messiness, the fucking clichés- seriously, please please forgive me. although you probably shouldn’t, i am just so so sorry T_T please don’t be afraid to ask me if you want this rewritten, i am like, BEGGING YOU TO ASK ME TO REWRITE THIS SAVIBVDHBSDKJ

word count; 2.1k

You took a deep breath before leaving your dorm, mentally preparing yourself for the walk of shame to the dining room where you had to… you didn’t even want to say it, nor acknowledge it. The bet you had lost the day before with Kokichi, had left you with nothing but bitterness in the end. Your eyebrows were permanently creased, an expression of pure regret on your face as you shuffled unenthusiastically down the hall in your frilly maid’s outfit. 

Shuichi greeted you as soon as he noticed the dress, a concerned, confused and albeit a bit flustered expression on his face as he did. “H-hey S/o! Um, so are you going to the dining hall?” He asked an obvious question, just so he could somehow get you to talk about your huge dress. Only nodding shamefully, you stifled a sigh. 

Shuichi only made a noise of acknowledgement, letting the conversation go stale as he was too afraid to address the elephant in the room, himself. You were both silent, Saihara standing in front of you, awkwardly planted on his spot while he looked at everything but you. 

He didn’t say anything, only occasionally sparing glances at your dress as he stood like a tree. Getting irked from the silence, you deadpanned, “... You want to know why I’m wearing a maid’s dress.” He flushed at even the mention of the word, as if you had said something terrible.

“Y-you don’t have to te-” Disrupting his excuse, you looked him dead in the eye, and uttered one word, “Kokichi.” Shuichi blinked at the name, before nodding in pity. After your short response, he required no further questions, the single name was all it took for the realization to wash over him. Even if he wasn’t a detective, it wouldn’t take less than a second to know what was going on. 

As if the said-Kokichi had been waiting for you to say that, Kokichi suddenly popped out of nowhere, scaring the two of you at his sudden appearance, “Oh? What’s my maid doing with Saihara-chan? Not wasting time I hope~” He laughed sadistically at your suffering, “Chop chop my maid! Since I’m your master, you’re gonna have to follow my every order! So don’t even try to disobey me; cuz I’m sure maid-chan knows what happens when she does, right? Nishishi!” You cringed at the nickname, ere sighing in defeat and letting him drag you to the dining room where you’d soon meet your demise.

You looked back at Shuichi one last time, mouthing a, ‘Help me.’ as Kokichi dragged you away. Shuichi only sent back a sheepish and apologetic look, in which you glared at him, betrayal overtaking you.

A couple of minutes later of countless teasing and judgemental looks sent your way, you were finally at the dreaded destination. To your surprise, Kokichi eagerly kicked the door to the dining room open before you could even prepare yourself, the entire class turning around at the loud noise. Kaito was first to speak up about the dramatic entrance, ‘Kokichi!? What the actual F-! … f-ffffffffffuuhh..” Kaito trailed off, his attention shifting off Kokichi, to focusing on you in a maid’s dress. 

Despite wanting you to feel the pure unfiltered humiliation, the sadistic bastard definitely did not love the way Kaito was eyeing you. Smile faltering for a second, he considered dragging you to his own room and having you perform a private show for him instead of these assholes. Shaking his head, he tried dispersing the thoughts of… jealousy? No, that can’t be it. 

He decided he’d delay his feelings of conflict for later, and unfortunately for you, focusing back on your nervous figure. Peaking at the look on your face, he couldn’t help the twinge of worry for your well-being. 

Noticing him stare at you with a small concern, you furrowed your brows in suspicion, that wasn’t really like him. Only then, did you notice the desperation on his face. He looked like he was choosing to either say, “Are you okay?” or “Pleaaaase!” He watched you, eyes wide with worry yet looking as if he had been begging you. Choosing your fate, you sent him a reassuring, but solemn nod, deciding to do the act he had been looking forward to for the entirety of yesterday; the day you lost that damned bet. 

You sighed defeatedly at his pouty expression, you were weak for him and he knew it.

“Alright.” He looked up at you with expecting eyes, holding back a shit-eating grin, “Alright what..?” You sighed for the 2nd time within the span of 45 seconds, “Ugh... Master.” The single word uttered out from your pretty lips had his entire body shuddering, fighting back the blush on his face, he leaned his back towards you teasingly, his ego had been very clearly stroked, “That’s right. I’m your master; so come on and get to it! Don’t make your master wait~” He added, clearly enjoying your misery. You pouted, where did the worried Kokichi go?

Turning to face the crowd that seemed to be staring at you while you flirted talked normally with Kokichi, you felt your frills shuffle with each movement you made. You closed your eyes in preparation, making a mental note never to make a bet with Kokichi, ever. “Do I have to get on my knees?” He smiled cheerfully, “It’s part of the deal~” ‘Nishishi’ing as dread washed over your face.

Everyone watched in anticipation, some with concern, but mostly the former— as you got on your knees, the skirt neatly pleating on the ground. 

Disgruntled, you uttered out a small, “If you tickle me, I will… I- “ You looked back at Kokichi, a look of, ‘Do I have to do this?’ contorting on your face as you stared at him pleadingly, dying inside when he nodded frantically like a child at a candy store.

“... S-say hee hee and prance around like a rainbow lollipop on a cloud of unicorn wishes.“ You flinched , the entire class had suddenly started howling and rushing towards you—most likely to tickle you—, but right before a giddy Angie and a determined Tenko could get their hands on you, Kokichi suddenly spoke up, stopping them in their tracks. “Hey! She’s not allowed to be touched by mutts like you, so get back!” He brutally spat, voice scratching from the force of his words. 

Kaito immediately took the opportunity to ask you out as Kokichi’s occupied with the others, not hesitating for a second. Tapping on your shoulder, a shy smile adorning Kaito’s face as he awkwardly shuffled, “Hey S/o..! Do you maybe wanna, um..” Kokichi swiftly popped out from underneath your skirt as if this was a routinely thing, standing in between you and Kaito. “What the hell-” Kaito recoiled back in shock, had he just been hiding under there?? Kokichi looked at you, before looking back at him. 

You were sure if looks could kill, Kaito would’ve been dead a year ago. “Hey. You know she’s mine, yeah?” Kokichi spoke with a dead-cold look on his face, before almost immediately contorting back into his usual mischievous smile, “... My personal maid, of course! Nishishi!” Kaito stared Kokichi down, in which Kokichi simply glared back in amusement, the same smile staying onto his face. Irking, Kaito discontentedly walked away, shortly after Kokichi had won the stare-down. 

Exhaling loudly, his smile fell off his face as well as the breath he kept in, a neutral expression replacing his grin as he stared back at you, “You know, this whole thing is getting kinda boring, let’s just leave.” He tried putting on his signature charming grin, but you could see the way his teeth clenched. It seemed Kaito asking you out had a bigger effect on him than he wanted to admit. 

Despite teasing and asking him if he was worried and/or jealous on the way to a secluded area, he persists, staying stubborn and brushing it off. “It just wasn’t as fun as I thought! Now stop nagging me and hurry uuuuup! You’re such a slowpoke.” Perking up, he suddenly remembered something, “Oh wait! That’s an order, right? So you have to obey.” Rolling your eyes, you jolted as an idea suddenly found its way to your head. 

Flashing a mischievous smirk in his direction, you left him bewildered as you started sprinting across the field. “Wh- Hey! Haha, what the fuck!?” He cackled at how stupid you looked, throwing your heels across the field somewhere as you stumbled from the length of the dress, still running to god knows where. 

His laughing suddenly halted as he witnessed the way you took a large leap and stepped on your dress, tumbling down as you did.“Stooop! You’re gonna actually hurt yourself, seriousl-! …” Kokichi suddenly fell silent as you fell on your face, only sounds of him choking back holding back his own loud laughter. But the boy could only hold back for so long, and as you raised your head from the field, you could hear him just fucking losing it. 

Turning around and glaring directly at him, you stumbled back to your feet, jogging towards one of your lost heels before hurling it directly at Kokichi’s stomach. “Take that you little shit!” Now you were the one laughing at his misery. In the end the heel didn’t do what you wanted it to, as he just kept on laughing, only now wheezing from the hilarity of the situation and for the air you knocked out of him. 

Hearing his crazy horse laughter fill the air, you couldn’t help but laugh just as loud, along with him. You jogged up to his hysterical figure, falling down next to him, your own giggles mingling in with his. He turned his head to you, pointing at your face weakly, before throwing his head back and laughing even louder. 

Eventually, the laughter calmed, both of you just bathing in the afterglow of the extreme euphoria you both had felt. Kokichi turned his head again, staring at you in thought. Noticing his eyes, you took your eyes off the sky, catching his seemingly whipped gaze, “What?” 

He smiled, “Even though you look like a maid who had just went through hell to try and escape her traumatizing slave prison life, you still look cute.” Admitting with no hesitation and way too many details, he watched in amusement as your face flushed. “And borderline sexy too. I am loving the sexy prisoner look.” He added, catching you off guard as you flushed even harder. 

He sighed lovingly, “You know, I’d gladly pay you to stay in that dress... And I’m not lying.” You scoffed and looked at him in disbelief, Kokichi frowning back, “Hey! Don’t look at me like that! You know damn well, you look hot in those tights.” He drifted his eyes lower and lower, tilting his head to get a better view- before you suddenly chopped him. 

Wincing from the hit, he started bawling, “Uwah! How meeeaan! And to do that to your master too! How could you!?” Here come the waterworks. You only grimaced, right before decreasing your face in defeat, deciding to play along, “Fine. I’m sorry then,” Sighing, “Master.” You groaned out, clearly unhappy with the title Kokichi had forced on himself. Kokichi went light-headed as soon as he heard that word come out your lips, smiling like a goof, he only gawked at you. 

Shooting your head back to him, you were concerned as to why he was suddenly quiet. Was there something wrong with him? Did he pass out? “Master?” You called him by his title, shaking his tiny figure. The expression on his face showed pure bliss, “Just kiss me already.” 

He snapped out of it for a second, eyes darting to yours. You glared at him, in which he simply glared back, a challenging smirk on his face, differing greatly from his expression from earlier, “That’s an order~” 

Blinking at the statement, you gave in to your demise, slowly leaning down to kiss his forehead lightly, a flush on your face. Pressing your lips lightly against his skin, you pulled away shortly, lingering no longer than you had to. However short it was, that alone seemed to do it for him, as you swore you saw hearts shoot out from the spot in which you pecked. 

Giggling strangely, he rested on the field, completely surrendering his body to the earth as he went limp. “Nishi… My maid loooves me!” You stayed silent at the bold remark, wanting to refute but you knew he’d just figure out your lies. 

... Even so, you refused to admit it, “You fucking wish.” Snorting, you pushed his face away from you gently, cackling as you heard his whining.

[shyvioletcat]

Rudely Interrupted

It Takes Two managed to get 20 000 hits on Ao3 and I wrote this little thing to celebrate because I was just so excited! (I also bought myself some delicious cookies) Thanks for reading everyone!

Ps. This is set just after the beach trip with the other couples.

PPS running into some tagging issues bar with me

~ It Takes Two Masterlist ~

~~~~~

It was not surprising at all how they found themselves in the current situation, all things considered. Aelin had taken the first shower, Rowan heading straight in after once she had appeared in their bedroom in her towel. He’d given her a look, but all she had done was given him a playful shove out the door. They were at home together today so Aelin didn’t bother to put on much more than one of Rowan’s t-shirts. By the time Rowan had finished his shower Aelin was in the kitchen eating the last of her toast. Then her boyfriend had waltzed right in, looking devastatingly handsome with his damp hair and bare chest, his athletic shorts sitting low on his hips. He’d come up behind her and wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck, letting Aelin lean back into his chest. She’d closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh scent of his body wash. It was a scent she had become obsessed with the past few months, a weird pregnancy thing according to Rowan’s book.

And his scent and warmth and steady hands was all it took for her to turn around and kiss him.

It didn’t take long for Rowan to lift her up onto the counter to more easily kiss her senseless, it took Aelin even less time to slide his shorts off his hips–Rowan kicking them away with a soft chuckle before kissing her again. His hands were firm on her thighs, pulling her just that little bit closer as best he could with her stomach in the way.

What was surprising was the lock on the front door unlocking and then the door opening, something completely unexpected for the two of them. For one stuttering heartbeat they looked at each other with wide eyes–then they were moving. Rowan helped Aelin ease off the counter, making sure she was steady before frantically looking around for his pants. Ever the gentleman, he now didn’t have time for that as the footsteps came closer. All he had time to do was drop to the floor as their guest finally came into view, Rowan’s head smacking soundly on the cupboard.

“Hey, cuz,” Aedion said, hands in his pockets. “How are you this lovely morning?”

Truthfully, Aelin was still trying to catch her breath from their previous activities, she knew her face would still be flushed from the heavy makeout session. But she tried.

“It’s great. Good.” Aelin kept in her cringe at her own words. “What brings you here?”

Because she may or may not be quite annoyed at the intrusion, but was trying her hardest not to show it.

“Just came by to grab something,” Aedion explained. “Is Rowan around?”

Aelin nearly choked and couldn’t help the quick glance at the floor where Rowan sat, knees up and looking downright horrified.

“He’s ah– around here somewhere,” Aelin managed to get out. “Why?”

“He said I could borrow the book.”

Oh. The book.

“Um, yeah. I… Rowan knows where it is.” This time Aelin couldn’t stop the face she made at her own incompetence. She should offer to get it, but she was not keen on showing exactly how little she was wearing. Granted, it was a lot more than Rowan was wearing at this current moment.

“You okay?” Aedion asked, no doubt picking up on her weird vibe.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, leaning a little bit closer to the counter.

Aedion looked sceptical. “So, Rowan is around, yeah?”

“Yes,” Aelin tried to say confidently. Then the idea struck her. “Bathroom, he’ll be out in a minute.”

There was the softest snort from next to her and she resisted the urge to glare at her boyfriend. Yeah, it was a flawed plan. She just needed Aedion to go towards the door again.

“Hey, um.” Aelin cursed herself, she needed to pull this together. “Did you lock your car? There’s been some issues with thefts from the cars in the carpark.”

“I parked on the street and most definitely did,” Aedion said with all the confidence Aelin wished she had. “While I wait, can I grab a drink of water?”

“No!” The reply was far too quick and the look that Aedion gave her just proved it all the more.

Aedion’s eyebrows furrowed as he asked, “Why?”

Aelin didn’t have a good answer, she was too busy thinking of something to do that she didn’t exactly notice Aedion stepping around the counter. But her mind managed to catch up but not quick enough.

“I would stay there if I were you.”

Aedion scoffed. “Why would I–”

There was a ghastly moment of silence as Aedion saw everything: Aelin wearing Rowan’s shirt, Rowan sitting there in the corner of the cabinetry with his shorts bundled in his lap. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing as Rowan gave her cousin a small wave.

Then Aedion slapped a hand over his eyes, his hip catching the corner of the counter in his rush to get out of the kitchen making him grunt in pain.

“Gods! Aelin!” Aedion exclaimed as he reached the empty space between the living area and kitchen.

“Don’t Aelin me. I tried to warn you,” Aelin said with a shrug. “And hey, at least I’m not the nearly naked one. Lucky you.”

“Really?” Her cousin was not happy.

Aelin shrugged again, feeling braver now that had the safety of the counter again and the cat was well and truly out of the bag. “I don’t know what you want me to do here. Rowan can go and–”

“Nope, nope, he can stay right there thanks.” Aedion was looking at the floor like he wanted it to open and swallow him up. “I’ll go.”

Aedion didn’t spare her a glance as he walked past the kitchen towards the door.

Aelin lent over the counter the best she could to call out to Aedion. “Did you want that book?”

“No. Just tell Rowan to bring it to work,” Aedin said without looking back.

Aelin laughed. “He’s right–”

“I know!” Aedion all but bellowed as he slammed the door behind himself.

The slamming door echoed around the apartment, then it was followed by Aelin laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Rowan said from his hiding spot.

“Oh, yes it was.” Aelin’s voice was shaking.

He stood finally, shorts in his hand. “If I could have crawled into one of the drawers and died I would have.”

Aelin laughed again, resting her hand on his chest, fingers rapping on his skin. “And you two had made such progress since the beach trip.”

Rowan’s hand rubbed at her shoulders as he finally laughed, kissing Aelin on her forehead. “Thanks for trying though. Commendable effort, although entirely not smooth at all.”

“Anything for you, my love.” Aelin shifted to the side slightly, so she could lean her chin on his chest as she looked up at him and grinned. “So, what do you say we carry on from where we left off before we were so rudely interrupted?”

Without anymore prompting Rowan’s hands began wandering as he grinned right back. “Anything for you, my love.”

~~~~~

I thought this up a little too late and it didn't really fit in any of the remaining chapters, so it'd a fun deleted scene. Also it is qyute kate so I hope it makes sense. Thanks again for all your support guys. mwah!

Tags:

@fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleeping-and-books // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @ttakeitbacknoww // @tswaney17 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @rowaelinforeverworld // @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter // @they-call-me-cuatro // @musicmaam // @secret-lil-rendez-vous // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @tothestarswholisten // @chemicha // @therapeuticrambling // @mydarlingfireheart // @mybbyfeyre // @unassumingsodalovesherbooks // @amitynotpity // @loysydark // @queenophelia // @empire-of-wildfire // @crackedship // @camerooonchiu // @worldoffae // @notaddictedtoanything // @sierrareads // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books //  @yourwhisperingshadows //  @thesirenwashere // @hellolenas // @sjmsstuff // @shadowstar2313 // @pilesofriles // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @ellenoftroy // @flowerspringsea // @petrichara // @the-regal-warrior // @viajandosinalas // @chaoticskyy // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @bamchickawowow // @rosegoldannie // @msalazar3 // @thehuntressofmoon  // @whiskeybusiness1776 // @court-of-fuck-me-daddy // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @sailorsassley // @szklanydwormaas // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @meltalgel-ig // @gay-book-nerd // @amren-courtofdreams // @booksmusicandgoodvibes // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @aelin-rowan-whitehorn // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @1islessthan3books // @mynewdreamwasyou // @superspiritfestival // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @bestmelle // @aesthetics-11 // @flourishandblottsx // @keshavomit // @x3hopeless-dreamer // @girlgotattitude448 // @annejuilanneh111 // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @mu-si-ca-l // @awkward-avocado-s // @maastrash // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen //  @firestarsandseneschals // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @fireheart-of-your-dreams // @thesurielships // @sad-book-whore // @qoingcrazy // @df3ndyr // @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius // @silentquartz // @sjmships // @officialasianbitch // @jesstargaryenqueen // @catthefeminist // @trinitybailey2003 // @hellasblessed // @alyx801 // @amandaswallowtail // @louiseleblancdiggory // @magicalunicorngypsy // @ae-lingalathynius // @tottenhamboys20 // @rosesandglass // @abookishfreak // @littleboxofthunder // @booknerdproblems // @grandma-noob-lord // @starbornvalkyrie // @booknerdproblems // @larisssss // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77 // @curlyredqueen06 // @courtofjurdan // @anntheintrovert // @fourshizzle149 // @hsilberfarb // @acciowests // @psycho-bookaholic // @loudphantomdragon // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @thatsowlmazing // @booksbqueen // @azymondias05 // @feylien // @thegreyj // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @empress-ofbloodshed // @rowanwhitethornisbae // @post-it-notes33 // @rowaelinismyotp // @pullnpeeltwizzlers // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction // @gracie-rose // @elriel4life // @swankii-art-teacher // @dangerouscherryblossompenguin // @danibutterr // @lizzyfirebringer // @miserablesmusings // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis // @vanzetanze // @magnifique1807 // @highlady-brittney // @story-scribbler // @linguine-panini // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks //

[strawbunniiee]

A Girl and a Ghost Ch 5. Precious Rose

SOOOO this one is a bit lengthy!! there’s a bit of blood, a lil language, so fair warning! oh yeah and HEHEHE SPOILER ALERT THERE’S SOME TASTY PHANTOMEACH MWAHAHAHHAA

i had a LOT of fun writing the phantom and peach fluff hehehe ;)

dont worry!! this definitely won’t be the last chapter either, there’s still gonna be more of my cheesy fic sjfndkfd

hope you enjoy!! @salamifuposey @monsterbride99 just letting these lovely hooman beans know that this chapter exists!!

Jawaii had her arms raised, ready to slice King Boo to ribbons, but the king blasted her back into a wall.

Jawaii had the wind knocked out of her lungs as she slid to the floor.

Phantom rushed to Jawaii's side, picking up her petite body. His eyes became a deep, dark blood red as he shot a murderous glare at King Boo.

"She didn't even stand a chance." he smirked.

Phantom charged a blast of blue fire in his palm. "DIE!" he screamed, hurling it at the king with all of his might.

He had attempted to avoid it, but he wasn't fast enough. The ball engulfed him in flames as he screamed.

The king flung a fireball from his cracked crown, but due to his crown being damaged, it spiraled out of control, which hit Phantom in the process but also set the attic ablaze. He gasped and grabbed Peach's body.

Jawaii regained her breath and jumped off of Phantom.

"JAWAII, NO!"

She didn't listen, instead she ran to King Boo and aimed to tackle him. She phased right through him and onto the floor. This just made him guffaw.

"YOU IDIOT! OH, YOU MORONS JUST MAKE ME LAUGH!"

Phantom began to inhale, gathering air in his body to let out the loudest, most powerful opera scream he had ever sung.

King Boo saw this as an opportunity to take Peach back from Phantom. The ghost Rabbid glanced over at Jawaii in panic, as if begging her to do something.

Jawaii leaped up while the king was distracted and stabbed him, taking great effort to make it as painful as possible for him. It cut open his skin, creating a massive gash on the side of his face, bleeding out a strange blood-like substance, perhaps ectoplasm.

The king let out a monstrous howl as he fell over onto the floor screaming, his hands over the gash.

Then, Phantom finally let out his scream, after inhaling so much air he felt like he was about to explode. It was a force so strong, so powerful that it blew a massive hole in the attic, blowing the bleeding king far away, all the way to the swamps in Spooky Trails.

Both of their ears rung from the noise.

Peach began to slowly wake up. Phantom picked up Jawaii and burst out of the hole in the manor, taking the three of them away.

———

Peach screamed when she fully woke up.

"Wh-where am I? Who are you? ...Oh. Mr. Tom?... what happened?" the princess sputtered out, deeply confused by what was happening. "All I remember is... King Boo taking me away, and then... nothing. And... who's the little girl?"

Phantom's face turned red and his eyes widened as he shyly looked away, blushing. "Ah, w-well... Princess, it's a rather complicated st-story, you see,—"

"Phantom, why don't you and I tell her what happened together? Maybe it'll be a lot easier that way!" Jawaii chimed in cheerfully.

Phantom smiled at Jawaii. "I suppose you're quite right!"

The two happily retold Peach everything that had happened, complete with how the two became friends, their adventure in Spooky Trails, leading all the way up to them rescuing her from King Boo.

"Oh my goodness, what a story! It sounds very scary but exciting at the same time! I'm glad that you're safe and sound, though!" beamed Peach.

Phantom blushed yet again. "Oh, why thank you dear Princess! I'm quite happy you went on unscathed as well."

"Hang on a sec, you know this lady Phantom? She seems very nice!" asked Jawaii.

"O-oh, yes yes! I do know her. We're, erm, friends." Phantom said quickly.

Jawaii squinted suspiciously at him. "You seem super awkward in front of her. Do you have a crush on her or somethin'?"

Phantom's face was a bright red tomato at this point. "N-no, that's preposterous, o-of course not! Why, no male and female can be t-together without people believing that they are lovers!"

Peach giggled a bit. Jawaii grinned mischievously.

"You know, Jawaii has a point. Do you have a crush on me..?" asked Peach.

"...N-no, it's just hot out here. I act a b-bit strangely when it's scorching hot like this!" It was actually quite cold that morning, contrary to Phantom's statement. "Oh, and would you look at th-that, we're here already!"

They had made it to the silent castle in the early hours of the morning. The sun had not even come up yet, still pitch black and silent. Phantom set Peach and Jawaii down gently.

"...Thank you so much for saving me from King Boo, Tom." Peach gave Phantom a gentle kiss on the cheek. His face violently blushed as he had a look of sheer surprise on his face, his jaw hanging open. Jawaii couldn't help but snicker at the look on Phantom's face.

"I... oh my! I wasn't e-expecting that, my princess." Phantom stammered.

Peach simply just smiled. "Would you like me to get you a room to stay in for the rest of the night? You two must be very exhausted after your dangerous adventure together!"

"That would be very much appreciated!"

"Oh... Jawaii? Should I tell your parents where you are...?" asked Peach, concerned.

Oh crud, I totally FORGOT about that. thought Jawaii.

"Uhhhhh... I'm sure they're fine! I'll just come back when the sun's up!"

"All right, then. I'll be right back in just a moment!" Peach walked off.

Phantom went silent.

"Hey uh... now that she isn't here... do you actually have a crush on her?" asked Jawaii.

Phantom looked around and whispered in Jawaii's ear. "To be completely honest, yes. I do. She's the most beautiful, kind woman I have ever met... and thanks to King Boo bringing back the memories of my past life, I know that I had spent my past life attempting to get her to notice me. But it had resulted in my demise."

"First of all, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, no shit Sherlock, for a theater nerd you're a TERRIBLE liar y'know." she teased lightheartedly. "Second of all, ouch... that really sucks. But hey! In this life you befriended her!"

Phantom sighed. "I wish so dearly that we could be together. I tried so hard in my past life, I sacrificed so much to get her to notice me... but that red capped demon had gotten in the way countless times. And worst of all... he and Peach are together."

Phantom began to softly sob, his hands over his face in despair. Jawaii slowly walked over and gave him a hug.

"Aw... I'm so sorry about that... But my mom says it's not good to bottle up emotions. Maybe you should tell her how you feel..?" she suggested.

Phantom just stared in silence for a few moments before he finally responded. "...Perhaps."

"Maybe I could help you with it!"

"...No, i-it's best for me to simply just... tell her. I've known her for quite a while now, but I've mostly been too nervous to do as much as speak to her."

Jawaii hugged him again, even tighter than the last time. "I'm here for you, best friend." she smiled.

Phantom hugged back. "...Thank you, Jawaii."

After a few minutes, Peach came back in to tell them that their room was ready.

"Sorry about the wait! We had a few issues... come on in, it's much comfier in here than it is out there. It's so cold out." she said.

"Oh! You're all right, Princess."

Peach escorted the two into the castle and into their room. Just like outside, the castle was very dark. It had little to no light other than the light of the stars and moon softly shining through the windows.

When they arrived, Peach opened the door. The room was very tidy and had very expensive looking furnishings, and two extremely fluffy beds with plentiful amounts of pillows and blankets. Jawaii gasped and immediately began to jump on the bed. Phantom and Peach laughed a bit at Jawaii's antics.

"Well, sweet dreams you two. You both deserve it after the adventure you've had tonight! And thank you both again for saving me... that was such a terrifying experience. No matter how many times I get kidnapped, it's always so scary."

She smiled and blew them both kisses. Phantom blushed.

"Ah... you're welcome, Peach. Bonne nuit."

Peach smiled and closed the door. She went back off to bed happily.

"What the shit did you say to her? Bun... bon-nue. What?" Jawaii asked, deeply confused.

Phantom quietly chuckled. "Bonne nuit. It's French for good night."

"The heck's a French?"

"Heh heh. Perhaps I shouldn't be laughing, for you're an alien child. You don't know everything about Earth and that's understandable!"

"No, it's okay. I like to make people laugh. 'Cuz it means I made them happy!" replied Jawaii.

Phantom smiled at Jawaii once more. "We should get some rest, my child. We've had a very long day. Bonne nuit, Jawaii." He laughed a bit at his own joke.

Jawaii smiled. "Nighty night, Phantom." She yawned and stretched and sprawled out on her bed, quickly falling asleep within a matter of minutes.

Phantom, however, lay awake in his bed, thinking about what Jawaii had told him to do. He tossed and turned, pondering his decision. His heart throbbed, wondering what would happen.

Then, he decided.

He was going to tell her tonight. He had figured that he may as well get it over with now.

He nervously got out of bed and quietly phased through the walls to get to Peach's bedroom, where she had still laid awake. She was slightly startled by Phantom seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Oh! Tom? Is there... something you need?" she asked

"Well... there is something I must tell you. I've hidden it from you for so long... because I was afraid of being rejected, I suppose." he admitted.

"Oh... Well, what is it?"

"I know that you are already taken... b-but..." Phantom covered his blushing face with his hands, and forced himself to finally choke out the words.

"I l-love you."

He knew that this was the end. She was going to kick him out of her castle... or far worse.

But her response shocked him down to his very gramophone.

"Well... if I'm completely honest, I have feelings for you too. That peck on the cheek earlier... was something I've wanted to do for a long time." she smiled and looked away a bit.

Phantom stared dumbfounded at her. He couldn't believe it. "B-b-but, you— and M-Mario—" he stammered.

"Oh, that's just a rumor that goes around... everybody seems to think that! He's still a very close friend of mine, and I'm so glad he's saved me so many times."

"Erm... speaking of that... King Boo told me something about myself that not even I had known. I... I was a human once. I wanted so badly for you to notice me... each time you were kidnapped, I always attempted to save you... but my attempts were futile, for Mario always saved you before I ever could. But one day, King Boo trapped you in a painting... and for the first time, I had arrived in time to save you. Unfortunately, he had killed me and sealed my soul inside a gramophone. I had forgotten about this previous life... until he had told me. Then all of the memories rushed inside me. Saving you had felt... like I had finally fulfilled my goal." he explained.

"...Actually... now that I think of it, I do remember a handsome young man who had clothes not different than yours who had come to save me from him. I remember his beautiful deep voice... with that accent... it was your voice! Your voice was always so familiar to me...but I could never figure out where I heard it."

Phantom's face turned red from the complements. "P-princess, please stop flattering me..."

She giggled. "You haven't become any less handsome than you were as a human, you know."

Before Phantom could respond, she kissed him again. This time, on the lips.

The two kissed under the pale morning moonlight shimmering down into the room.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

The GOAT Vs The Sleep King (part 1/2)

Summary: “Feel free to bring your arch nemesis over.” When xB said that about his PVP arena, he was expecting friendly competitions. Not for Doc to challenge Bdubs to a battle to the death over his destroyed statue.

…

  When xB spread the word about his PVP arena, he had been expecting friendly competitions and Hermits coming here to blow off some steam or de-stress. His first customers had certainly enjoyed themselves, and xB himself had had a blast. After all, everyone is friends here. Nobody has any real feelings of bitterness or resentment towards anyone else, right?

  Wrong.

  xB stares at his friend in surprise, not quite sure he heard him correctly. “Wait, you… you actually want to kill Bdubs?”

  “Not forever,” says Doc, as if this is obvious from the context. “I want to make him pay for destroying my precious statue but I don’t want to just kill him, cuz that would be boring and unimaginative. Also, kinda unfair. I want to give him a chance to defend himself.”

  “Uh… alright… I guess that’s okay.”

  “Good. Now call him over.”

  “M-Me?”

  “Yup,” says Doc dangerously. “Otherwise I’ll make you watch.”

  xB blinks. “Watch you play around with Bdubs like a cat toying with a mouse and then kill him?”

  Doc nods. “Do you want that?”

  After a moment, xB sighs. “No. I’ll call him.” 

  “Good man.” 

…

  Bdubs flies down to the PVP arena and lands neatly a little way off from xB, who seems a little uneasy as he approaches. “Hey, xB! How’s it going?”

  “Uh…” xB can’t quite meet Bdubs’s gaze. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

  “W-What’s wrong?”

  Before xB could reply, Doc emerges from behind one of the wooden posts. “Hello, Bdubs.”

  Bdubs’s eyes widen and he takes an automatic step back, but Doc doesn’t seem to be in any rush to attack him, so he hesitates, ready to activate his elytra and rockets at a second’s notice. 

  “You called me into an ambush?” he snaps at xB. 

  xB winces. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have much of a choice.” 

  “Hey, you should be more worried about me right now,” Doc growls. “Bdoubleo, I challenge you to a duel to the death. If I win, I’ll consider us even for destroying my statue. If you win, I’ll drop the issue.” 

  Bdubs narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Really?”

  “Yes. The only way this will end is with one of us dying. Frankly, I don’t care who.”

  Bdubs’s heart skips a beat, his skin crawling at hearing Doc say such a thing. “A-A duel, then? A fair duel?”

  Doc nods. “Yes. No potions, no armour, no shields. Just a diamond sword each.”

  “Oh…” Bdubs grimaces. He’d been hoping that he could use a shield at least. “And if I say no?”

  “Then you continue living your life constantly weighed under by the knowledge that I’m still incredibly pissed off at you and I could come by at any time to destroy you.”

  A pause.

  “R-Right,” Bdubs squeaks. “Then I-I accept your challenge.”

  “Good.” A malicious smile spreads over Doc’s face. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

…

  Five minutes later, the two take their starting positions on opposite sides of xB’s arena. xB himself is making himself busy in the underground area, tidying up the changing rooms. He normally loves watching people duel in his arena but not today. He refuses to watch a battle that will not end well for anyone involved.

  Three other hermits, however, have gathered to watch on the sidelines: Etho and Beef, both conflicted over who they should be rooting for in this fight, and Keralis, who has brought a pair of leaf blocks to use as cheerleading pom-poms. He’s very much on Bdubs’s side. 

  “Go Bubbles!” he cheers, waving the leaf blocks in the air. “Go Bubbles!”

  Bdubs can hardly even manage a smile back.

  After a minute or so, the bell rings to indicate the start of the match.

  Immediately, Doc charges forwards with frightening speed and swings his sword. Bdubs screeches and dives to the side to avoid it, not trusting himself to parry successfully with his own sword. 

  The two clash swords a few times in quick succession, but Doc’s ferocity soon forces Bdubs to try a different tactic. He kicks Doc away with all his strength and then flees, almost tripping over in his haste. Ignoring Doc’s angry yell, Bdubs climbs up one of the wooden posts, sword in hand. He doesn’t have a bow but he knows he can’t hold his own against Doc face-to-face for long.

  Doc glares up at him. “Get down here!”

  “Come get me!” Bdubs taunts.

  He immediately regrets this when he sees Doc pull his arm back. He’s not actually gonna throw the sword, is he…?!

  Bdubs screeches and ducks as Doc’s sword sails over his head. However, the sudden movement causes him to lose his balance. He lets out a yelp as he topples off the top of the post. He lands heavily on his left ankle, which instantly snaps under his weight. Crying out in pain, he isn’t able to stop himself from collapsing onto his back, his sword slipping from his grasp. 

  Spotting Doc coming towards him, Bdubs scrambles backwards until he hits one of the wooden posts, staring up at Doc with wide, terrified eyes. Doc looms menacingly over him. Bdubs has nowhere else to go and they both know it. 

  “Doc’s gone mad…!” Beef gasps on the edge of the arena. “He could permakill Bdubs!”

  Etho decides he has to do something. It’s not right for Doc to slaughter his defenceless friend like this. So he vaults over the fence and hurtles towards his friends, followed after a moment by Beef. 

  Doc lifts his sword. 

  Bdubs weakly throws up his arms to protect his face. 

  “Stop!” Etho yells. “STOP!”

  But Doc is already swinging. There’s no stopping him. 

  Without hesitating, Etho dashes in front of Bdubs, spreading his arms out to protect him. 

  Doc’s sword cuts through Etho, killing him instantly. Etho’s items explode all over the ground as Beef grabs Bdubs and pulls him away from Doc, who drops his sword in shock and staggers back a few steps, staring in horror at Etho’s spilled items. 

  A few metres away, Beef supports Bdubs, who is holding his injured foot gingerly off the ground. “Y-You killed him!” Bdubs cries. “He’s gone; he won’t respawn! HOW COULD YOU?!”

  “No, I d-didn’t-!” Doc gazes down at his trembling hands. “I-I never wanted to kill anyone permanently! He should respawn like normal, right?” He turns desperately to Beef. “R-Right…?”

  Beef can’t bring himself to meet his friend’s gaze. “I… I don’t know.”

  At that moment, everyone’s communicators go off simultaneously with a message. 

<Etho> Respawned at my base, on my way back now

  “I-Is it Etho?” Bdubs stammers. 

  Beef puts his communicator away and nods, wrapping his arms around his injured friend. “It’s Etho. He’s okay.” 

  Bdubs lets out a long, relieved sigh and relaxes in his friend’s embrace. “Oh, thank god… B-Beef, I… I think I might pass out in a second.”

  His knees immediately give out and he sags against Beef, who adjusts his position and lifts the smaller Hermit into his arms. Shooting Doc a wary look, he turns to walk away.

  “W-Wait, Beef…” Doc hesitates. “Wh-What can I do? I want to help.”

  “Then pick up Etho’s items and put them somewhere safe,” Beef says, his tone more than a little cold. “And stay away from Bdubs.”

  With that, he walks away, leaving Doc standing despondently in the middle of the arena, wondering how this could have gone so wrong. 

[jj-lives]

Sing to Me: i can hear you open up to breathe

Song is Shake it out by Florence + The Machine if anyone hasn’t heard it. I imagined tempo and acoustic similar to the Glee rendition of the song. Naya Rivera’s voice haunts me in the first verse. Highly suggest this version, don’t be snobs cuz it’s “Glee” lol.  Enjoy. I may have a part 2 or 3 planned.

ao3 link

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The crowd’s booing echoes long after the man trudges off stage. They’re not being fair. She thinks he wasn’t horrible. Maybe not on par with the other talent before him, but not horrid. Drinks flow steadily from behind the bar. Verbal jeers rising as inhibitions drop. Fate would have been kinder to showcase him first, before the crowd became bold with alcohol filled bellies. 

“Poor guy.” Ever the empathetic one, Ruby is quick to applaud, though she’s the only one.

“Don’t encourage that.” Their other friend speaks up from her right. “He was horrible. I saw no breath control, and he was so -pitchy.”

“Not everyone can be classically trained like you!” Ruby shoots back. “Who could control breaths while crying. I swear there were tears in his eyes as he ducked behind the curtain.” 

Their bickering continues, muffled now by the shouts for the next performer to take the stage. The set is early. They don’t care that they chased the last one off ten minutes early. 

Servers hurry to replace empty glasses; tributes to placate the ravenous horde, but their hunger is for entertainment not drink. Yang wonders if their demands now turn for more blood. The one constant ringing true throughout history - men are never sated. Always they want more, and more. Having a taste of viciousness, would anything curb that appetite now?

She spares what little empathy she can for the next performer, wishing it into the universe in hopes to protect them, even but a bit, from what’s to come. Ruby worries for the wrong person, his embarrassment although tragic is now over. 

“Here we are now, entertain us.” It rings over and over, so much so Yang can’t tell which are the true roughened lyrics and which are the reverberations from the rafters.

A girl rushes from side-stage, skidding to a halt a few paces in. It’s obvious from her deer-in-the-headlights look that she’s been rushed, pushed up there, like a lamb to slaughter. A simple acoustic guitar hangs from her white-knuckled left fist. She wears simple clothing, no fancy dress or designer jeans, no blazers or grunge band shirts hang off her frame. There’s nothing to indicate this girl’s trying to make an impression. Nothing saying she wants to be seen. The opposite in fact. She wears simple black jeans, blue converse and a long sleeved grey shirt. No gaudy jewelry or bold make-up marr her skin to grab the audience’s attention. Her hair is pulled back in a simple bun at the back of her head. Fingers tremble as they slide across her temple, tucking a wayward strand of ebony behind her left ear. Higher up, two points flatten as she takes the half a dozen strides to collapse on the stool awaiting her at center stage.

The horde goes silent, staring slack-jawed.

She’s a faunus.

Yang’s muscles all tighten. Only noticing the way her hands grip the table when a splinter wedges underneath a nail bed. She sucks in a breath, releasing her grip on the wood, claw marks a visible indicator of her instant unease. Faunus don’t showcase here and there’s a good reason for that. She searches the crowd for a manager, a bouncer, a goddamn server would do. Someone has to get her off that stage. A sharp tug at her elbow yanks her back into the booth. She doesn’t even remember standing.

“Where are you going?” Weiss glares at her, jaw clenched. 

“Someone has to do something.” Already murmurs are rising up. Scornful, racist slurs whispering all around her. “They’ll slaughter her.”

“No one can stop this.” Weiss’ voice drops, saddened, resigned.

“A manager.” She stands again, determined to do something.

“Who do you think shoved her up there, Yang.” Ruby’s voice is opposite of her friend’s. All scorn and hatred. She’s never heard that tone from her sister before. “She’s a barback. I saw her earlier when I went to get our drinks. She works here.”

Yang falls heavily back into her seat and stares in horror at the uneasy flick of the girl’s ears. Ears that now have the attention of every racist blowhard in the joint. Her obvious nerves will prove her downfall, they aren’t something a drunk, malicious pack will ignore. She’s become their prey, at no fault of her own, or even under her own decision. She’s been forced into an impossible situation against her will. 

Yang growls aloud.

Weiss’ cautious stare flicks from her to Ruby. “We should go.” She says at last. And Yang knows her reasons. She doesn’t want to see what’s coming, doesn’t want them to see what they all know is about to happen. Ruby releases a breath and Yang can see her nod in her periferal. 

“Yang l-”

“I’m staying.”

“But-”

“You can go if you want.” Yang’s eyes haven’t left the stage. She watches as the girl busies her trembling fingers by tuning the instrument in her hands. The pickguard wears many scars and the body is faded where her forearm comes down to rest. Each chord plucked ends with a nod, meeting her approval. 

“Are all faunus this’low?” A man slurs from somewhere off to Yang’s left. “No wonder they can’na keep any good jobs.” A roar of laughter ripples the air.

“Yang, let’s go.” Ruby pleads.

“I’m not leaving.”

“You can’t do anything.” Weiss reasons.

But they’re wrong. “I can stay.” They hover, concern in their eyes. Yang feels it. “Go, I’ll be alright.”

Doubt hangs in the air but it’s not spoken. Finally Weiss pulls Ruby from the bar by the wrist. They weave between the tables at a brisk pace. Yang watches the door swing closed when they leave. 

Then she starts to sing.

“Regrets collect like old friends

Here to relive your darkest moments

I can see no way, I can see no way

And all of the ghouls come out to play”

She starts without accompaniment of her instrument. Voice: soft and fragile but with a haunting strain, she sings the first verse. Yang’s never heard anything like it. For the first time she wishes for different ears -like hers- if only to hear her better.

Her wrist moves, playing softly as her voice strengthens.

“And every demon wants his pound of flesh

But I like to keep some things to myself

I like to keep my issues strong

It’s always darkest before the dawn”

The once rowdy crowd is silenced, hypnotized by her. Eyes glued to her as hers remain on nimble fingers running along the guitar's neck with practiced ease. She doesn’t spare a glance to the patrons and hasn’t since she first took her seat, but the way she keeps returning to worry her bottom lip between piercing teeth relays her fear. 

“And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind

I can never leave the past behind

I can see no way, I can see no way

I’m always dragging that horse around

Our love is pastured, such a mournful sound

Tonight I'm going to bury that horse in the ground"

So enraptured Yang is, she doesn’t notice the whispers rise again. All her senses are focused on the beauty on stage. A brow furrows as she sings through the first chorus. Shoulders stiffen as a note is missed. Delicate eye’s slam shut and her voice quavers for the briefest of moments. 

She plays on.

Mutterings of ‘faunus, animal, savage’ finally reach her. Yang curses them all to the deepest pits of hell. This girl’s not a savage or an animal. She’s an angel.

“And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back

So shake him off, oh whoa

And given half the chance would I take any of it back

It’s a final mess but it’s left me so empty

It’s always darkest before the dawn.”

Yang hears laughter off to her left and she’s sure it’s the same table the man hollered from earlier. Dying down to snickers, Yang tears her eyes from the stage with a pain almost physical. There’s a group of men, boys really, goading one of their own. Elbows jab at him teasingly as they whisper into his ears. Yang knows it’s coming, knows it before he sports a determined mask, before he lifts his mug to chug back the rest of the courage it contains. He stands.

“Look boys!” His booming voice carries, “Guess you can teach ‘em beasts a trick o’ two.” 

Yang turns to the stage, hoping -in vain she knows- that he’s remained unheard on stage. A human might have been blessed in ignorance, but not her. Not when she can hear and see so much more than they. Yang watches her flinch, sinking lower on her stool. Her eyes shoot to the side, seeking help they both know won’t come. 

The man continues, emboldened by his mate’s prodding. “They taught’er ta sing. Wonder if she can dance too.” Whistles rise up, taunting. “Give us a jig-” he hiccoughs through his laughter. 

She stops playing, staring at the crowd. Pleading with them. 

Yang turns to grab a server rushing passed. Glares daggers at her until eyes avert with a sad shake of her head. No one is going to help her. They’ll make her dance for their entertainment.  

But she’s proud, or scared, and doesn’t move from her stool. After an eternity she strikes the cords in the same tune. 

Yang prays it’s the end. Even as the same man steps out of the booth, she prays. She urges him to just leave it, to be headed home or even the restroom. His lumbering steps carry him in a wobbled zig-zag to the stage. Her fist throbs as it hits the table. She stands, moving before she processes what her next move will be. He’s intercepted not far from her abandoned table, the alcohol has made him bold, but also slow.

Yang anchors herself in his way. He tries to sidestep her. “I don’t need another drink, honey.” Her hand plants on his chest as he tries again to pass her.

“What you need is to go sit down.” Her voice is low, dangerous, but he misses the warning resting within her words.

“I’m just havin’ fun, she’ll be lucky ta dance with a real man.” He motions with one trunk of an arm to his goal. To her. “This’ll be a treat. After all ‘em savage brutes rutting up on her e’ery night she’ll enjoy-” 

Yang hears a crack and she’s not sure if it’s his nose or one of her knuckles. But she stands where he crumples, unconscious to the beer soaked floor. Adrenalin pumping, Yang spins looking for her next target. Instead she’s met with boisterous laughs. They hoot and holler. And a few close enough pat her shoulder. 

“Taken down by a girl,” they yell. His friends' angry looks are the only thing she contends with as they drag his limp body to the exit. 

Behind her the guitar picks up and the girl begins to sing again, continuing where she left off. Yang stalks to the bar to order another drink, needing to calm her racing heart. Fists clench with a need to punch something or someone else. Whoever served up the faunus buffet is first on her list. A beer is placed before her. She looks up and sees the bartender smiling gratefully at her. “On the house,” he says. His eyes flick to the stage. 

She forces a smile through still gritting teeth and turns, listening again to the girl’s angelic voice. It’s not her guitar she stares at as she sings this time. It’s Yang.

“And I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t

So here’s to drinks in the dark at the end of my road

And I’m ready to suffer and I’m ready to hope

It’s a shot in the dark and right at my throat

‘Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me

Looking for heaven, for the devil in me

Well what the hell I’m going to let it happen to me

Shake it out, shake it out

Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa

Shake it out, shake it out

Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa

And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back

So shake him off, ooh whoa”

When the song ends she’s called off stage. It’s the first thing Yang’s grateful for all night. She stays to finish her beer. It’s the reason she tells herself. It would be rude not to finish the offered beverage, but when a cold cloth is placed over the knuckles of her right hand and she looks up Yang knows; she’s waited for her.

“Thank you.” Her voice is soft, careful. Unable to make eye contact with her now that only a bar separates them instead of a crowd. Her eyes dart everywhere except in her direction. She avoids her corner of the bar at all costs. Yang’s just happy to watch her. They don’t speak, but Yang’s gaze follows as she completes her duties. Her beer is replaced when empty, her money refused again. The girl looks up from filling the ice bucket and smiles softly at her boss, witnessing the transaction, or lack thereof. All Yang wants is to be the recipient of that smile, just once. She could die happy.

Hours later as she’s wiping down the bar Yang reaches out to touch her wrist. Her hand is snatched to her body with practiced reflexes. It breaks Yang’s heart. She deserves more than this fear humans instilled in her. Their eyes meet and Yang feels herself smile, genuinely, for the first time all night. 

“When are you off?” Careful to keep her voice low. She doesn’t want to scare her. Yang hates that she’s already been responsible for that telltale constriction of her pupils. 

“Why?” Her voice is just as careful as Yang’s, skeptical of her reasons.

“Do you-” Yang lifts her hand to scratch her nose, flustered by the amber that’s studying her now. “If you’d allow, I’d like to walk you home.”

“I don’t need supervision.” She turns to stack the clean glasses another faunus has brought out in a grey tub.

“I know, but I’d like to.” She watches Yang stretch her right hand, watches the wince Yang can’t completely hold back. No one has ever studied her as hard as the girl across the bar is now. “Just in case.”

“I’m off in an hour.”

“I’ll wait.” Yang nods as if sealing the deal. The girl grabs the empty tub and makes to disappear into the back. “My name’s Yang.” She blurts before she’s out of sight. “Can I please have yours.”

Without turning she answers, “Blake.”

[megsironthrone]

A Secret Relationship

Based on this request: I have another request about sandor if it’s not much trouble to you. Him and the reader work together and they secretly in a relationship and they act like there’s nothing between them infront of everybody, till Beric accidentally finds out

AND: I want to request a really really fluffy fic, about sandor when he comes back from a work trip that lasted for weeks, and be surprised about how much the reader missed him, cuz he is a bit insecure about himself and it’s hard for him to imagine that somebody could love and miss him that much I’ll really appreciate it if you could bring his childhood somehow cuz who doesn’t love a big man with childhood issues??

Here you are, lovelies! *Characters are not mine!*

Warnings: Fluffy Modern-ish AU. I think that’s all.

Pairings/Characters: Sandor Clegane x reader, Beric Dondarrion briefly. 

You paced around the living room, wringing your hands. Sandor had been gone way too long for your liking. It was strange, living and working together all the time, and then suddenly not be together every moment. You had wanted desperately to fight against Sandor going, but you couldn’t. You weren’t supposed to be in a relationship at all. It was technically against the rules, but you and Sandor just couldn’t seem to help it. You gravitated toward one another and eventually decided to say screw the rules.

         "Come on, Sandor. Where are you?“ you questioned quietly to the empty house. You went back to your pacing even though you were supposed to be attempting to cook. "You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor; you keep pacing like that.” You stopped pacing and whipped around to see your giant of a boyfriend standing in the doorway of the kitchen. For a moment, you couldn’t even breathe, let alone move.

         He looked no worse for wear. A little thinner and his beard was a little more full, but he was there. Your Sandor was there. “Sandor,” you finally managed to breathe out before launching yourself at him. He caught you with ease, having gone through this exact thing every single time he was gone for more than a couple of days. It wasn’t that you were necessarily needy. You just missed him.

         "I missed you,“ you said, though your voice was muffled by his chest or shoulder. You weren’t exactly sure which and you didn’t care at the time. "I wasn’t gone that long.” You let out a little noise of complaint when he tried to pry you off him. “Y/N…I need a shower and some food.” You made the noise again, prompting Sandor to sigh heavily. He carried you over to the couch and sat down with you draped across his lap. “Better?” You nodded against him.

         Sandor’s stomach grumbled, but he made no move to get up. He knew you needed this time, although he didn’t understand why. He knew you loved him but he still couldn’t believe that you loved him THAT much. In his own eyes, he wasn’t worthy of you. Never had been and never would be. But you always reassured him that you were there for him. It never failed to surprise him.

         Sandor hadn’t had the best childhood. One look at the scars along his face and anyone could see that. His brother was a psychopathic bully and his father had always favored the older of the two boys and their mother died. Sandor was left scarred, unloved, and alone. He spent most of his life that way. Sure, he’d had a date here and there, but nothing permanent until he met you.

         He was pretty certain it was the way you smiled at him when you first met that was his downfall. There had been no disgust at the sight of his face. No fear from his glare. Nothing but real tenderness and compassion. As he got to know you, Sandor fell harder and harder each day, but said nothing. You made the first move, even knowing that both of you could lose your jobs. It was a risk you were both willing to take and now, here you were, four years later, in no rush to leave each other’s company any time soon.

         Another rumble from his stomach even had you picking your head up from his shoulder and laughing. “Alright. I get it. Feed the beast. Go grab a shower and I’ll see if I can salvage whatever it was I was cooking.” You moved to get off his lap, but Sandor pulled you back down. Before you could utter a protest, Sandor kissed you softly.

         "I love you, you know that right?“ you asked him. His brown eyes met your (e/c) ones and he nodded. "I don’t understand how or why, but I know you do. I love you too.” You grinned. “I know. Now go bathe. You’re smelling a little ripe there.” Sandor growled playfully at you as you got up and walked back into the kitchen. He watched you go with a rare smile on his face.

         "You could join me,“ he called after you, "And give me a proper homecoming.” You poked your head out of the kitchen and laughed. “Perv. Go on.” With a deep chuckle, Sandor hauled himself off the couch. He showered as quickly as he could, wanting to be back in your company sooner rather than later. Plus, he really was hungry. After he was showered and dressed, Sandor left the bathroom. In an instant, he could tell the atmosphere of the place had changed. Something was different. Sandor came into the kitchen to find the table set, complete with candles and you standing there in your very best.

         "What’s all this?“ he asked, making you grin. "I thought you deserved a nice welcome home.” Sandor stared at you for a moment. It may not have seemed like much to other people but to him, these small gestures were what made Sandor feel so loved by you. He took your hand and pulled you to him. “Dance with me?” you asked quietly. It was only then that Sandor noticed the music softly playing in the background.

         Sandor contemplated telling you no. He wasn’t much for dancing, but you looked up at him with those puppy eyes and he couldn’t deny you anything. Sandor began moving to the music and you sighed happily. You stared up into his eyes with nothing but pure love. The two of you were so engrossed in each other, neither of you realized that Sandor had forgotten to lock the door when he came in.

         The home you shared with Sandor had been yours alone at first. When you started dating, you would only lock the door when you were sleeping or if Sandor was there. You had pretty much an open-door policy for friends and family when you were home. A fact that you had quickly forgotten when Sandor moved in since hardly anyone took advantage of it. Now you wished you had locked the door.

         "Well, this is a surprise.“ You and Sandor jumped apart as you eyes swung over to the door. Beric Dondarrion, your oldest friend and your employer, was there watching you with a smirk on his face. "Beric! What are you doing here?” you asked. “Apparently interrupting something,” he replied with a chuckle. You tripped over your tongue as you tried to explain everything while Sandor just stood there. He didn’t care one bit what Beric thought about your relationship, but he didn’t want you to lose your job either.

         "Relax, Y/N. It’s obvious you two care about each other and it’s not effecting your work. I’m not going to fire you. Not today anyway. I just noticed that you haven’t been yourself lately and thought I’d see if I could help. Clearly, I’m no longer needed so I will leave and let you carry on. Y/N. Clegane.“ With that, he was gone.

         You turned to Sandor in surprise. Your expression made Sandor laugh, prompting you to glare at him. "Don’t laugh. I almost pissed myself. I thought I would be fired for sure. Or you would be.” Sandor pulled you to him again. “Well, that’s not going to happen. I’d make sure of it.” You smiled again. Your smile managed to make Sandor’s heart rate pick up. “I love you,” you whispered before hugging him close to you again. “I love you too.” Sandor began to sway again, rocking ever so gently. Your dinner grew cold and the candles started to flicker, but neither of you cared. You were too busy being wrapped up in one another and your no-longer-secret relationship.

(a/n: I do love some fluffy, domestic Sandor. I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @ghostie-writes @princessofthefandomrealm @littlemisscaptainfandom @etherealpotter @line-viper @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @gruffle1 @smalltownbigheart @igotmadskills​

Sandor Clegane Tags: @songoficecreamandfireworks​

[scribbling-stiks]

AAR - XXV - Oh Brother

The rest of the travel goes without issue.

Mostly.

'At least we didn't have a huge fight,' Russia thinks as he drives.

The closer he drives to the base, the more nervous he gets. Sure, Dixie wasn't a country anymore, but Russia couldn't help but feel worried.

America puts a hand on top of Russia's own, which had a death grip on the clutch.

"Hey," America says softly, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Oh come on. I know you're nervous. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"What is Dixie going to do? What are the states and Canada going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"When they see your face. Your eye," Russia chokes, moving his hands to clutch the wheel with white knuckles.

"..."

Russia sighs and tries to ignore his racing heart.

"Don't worry too much," Arizona says.

Russia glances into the rearview mirror with a nervous look before returning his gaze to the road.

"Hey, you got Bama, Sippi, and Tex on your side, you'll be fine," Kentucky says, but his tone makes Russia think he's trying to reassure himself more than Russia, "They won't let nothing happen to you and Dix 'll listen to them if they say you're good."

Russia takes a deep breath and stares ahead, getting ready to turn off the main road. He pulls off and drives down through the winding roads, surrounded by trees. He takes a deep breath and pulls to a stop.

America hopes out and walks inside to announce their arrival and the states hope out and begin unloading luggage. Russia gets out but feels jumpy.

"You B******!" Dixie screams, and Russia sees him charge around the corner of the building.

"Dixie! Wait!" America yells, chasing after him.

Before Russia can raise his arms to cover his face, Dixie reels back and decks him in the jaw. Russia's head jerks back and stars flicker in his vision. He stumbles back and clutches his head. Russia groans and forces his eyes open.

His vision is blurry, but when his eyes finally focus, he sees America wrestling Dixie back.

"DIXIE! STOP! PLEASE!"

"NO! LOOK AT WHAT HE DID TO YOU! HE BLINDED YOU! YOU TOLD ME HE CUT YOUR FACE, NOT DESTROYED YOU EYE!"

"I DIDN'T GIVE HIM A CHOICE!"

"That's gonna leave a mark," Massachusetts comments, his arms crossed.

"You're not going to attack me?" Russia mumbles.

"Tex already told us that it happened to protect Ari. I don't understand why Dixie is so god d*** mad."

"He's mad because I did it."

"What?"

"I'm the one who slashed at his face," Russia mutters, covering his face in shame. Angry lime green magic feels the air and Massachusetts begins shouting.

"So you hurt him! You motherf***er! Why the f*** did you do that?!"

"I didn't mean to," Russia mumbles.

Dixie struggles away from America and charges at Russia, pinning him to a tree. Russia winces and meets Dixie's gaze. Dixie's eyes are ablaze with rage.

"WHAT DID YOU DO YOU F***ER?!"

"D! Stop!" Texas screams, waving his arms and trying to pull him off with America, "please! We'll explain everything! I promise, but you gotta let him go!"

Dixie growls but allows them to pull him off. Russia drops to his feet but slips, landing hard on his back. He scrambles to his feet and readies himself for another hit.

"What in God's name could possibly justify THAT?!" Dixie screams, waving to America.

Russia looks down, and guilt slams into his chest.

'I don't know. I'm sorry.'

"Dix, please. I was attacking him and almost killed him. He had to do something," America defends, throwing his arms into the air out of exasperation.

Dixie huffs.

"Y'all are telling me everything or Russ ain't staying without getting through me," Dixie threatens, glaring at Russia before turning around and stomps back inside.

Russia takes a moment to breathe and America runs forward, taking Russia's shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Wow, he gave you quite the shiner huh," America mutters, "I'm sorry."

"You're fine. I deserved it."

"Don't be like that," America says, swatting at Russia's shoulder, "I'm going to go try to work this out. Do you wanna come with?"

Russia pauses. America sighs.

"I'll talk to him," Texas says from behind America, "Tuck will help me explain. Y'all can stay out here if you want."

"Thanks," America says.

Texas nods and hurries inside after Dixie. America turns back to Russia with a guilty look before hugging him tightly. Russia holds him until he pulls away.

America gently reaches up and grasps Russia's face, brushing a thumb over the bright red mark. Russia winces.

"Sorry," America mutters, pulling away, but Russia grabs him before he pulls away completely. Russia pulls him into a hug.

"I'm cold," Russia groans.

"Come on," America replies, "We should get you inside."

They walk inside, and heat hits Russia immediately. He straightens a little in surprise. America pushes him inside and closes the door. Electric heaters are against the back wall under the lip of the upper floor. A few cold drafts drift through the walls, but the building is better insulated than a cheap camping tent would have been

"Come on," America says, tugging Russia closer to the back wall.

Russia walks over with America and sits down in front of one of them.

"Don't sit on the floor," America scolds, but his tone is playful.

America sets up one of the mats stacked against the wall on the floor and tugs Russia ontop of it. Russia goes limp with a smirk and traps a squirming America against the map.

"Hey. Get off!" America whines, playfully pushing Russia.

"Oh no. I can't get up," Russia complains lightly, throwing his arms back.

"Dude!"

Russia laughs for a moment before seeing Dixie approaching them. His laughter dies and he sits up stiffly. Dixie glares down at him, but his eyes soften glancing at America.

"Tell me what happened," Dixie demands.

Dixie drops to the ground in front of them, sticking a boot out in Russia's direction and glaring at him, an order for answers clear in his eyes.

"I-" Russia starts, but America puts a hand on his thigh and shakes his head. Russia goes quiet.

"I was hallucinating and I attacked Russia. I nearly killed him and cu- I nearly killed him and cut Ari in half. The only reason I couldn't was because Russ was protecting her," America says, choking up halfway through. Russia looks over, wanting to comfort him, but doesn't dare move toward him with DIxie standing nearby.

"Okay, and how in the h*** did you get that?" Dixie asks, pointing at America's eye.

"What? My eye?"

"Yeah. Can you see out of it?"

"No."

Dixie's face goes dark and he gives Russia a nasty glare, before returning his attention to America.

"Well, how did it happen?"

"I cornered him and tried to kill him. Self-defense is a thing, Dixie."

Dixie grunts.

"I didn't mean to," Russia blurts out.

"What?" Dixie snaps.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't want to hurt him," Russia says honestly, staring into Dixie's angry and skeptical gaze.

Dixie hums.

"I'm sorry. I hate it. I didn't want to hurt him," Russia mumbles, looking down. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat and blink away the tears in the corners of his eyes.

Dixie leans in close and stares for a second before unwrapping the scarf. Dixie examines it and sighs. The anger fades from his gaze and he looks almost apologetic, but Russia doesn't look up to get a better look.

"Jeez, I didn't think I hit ya that hard," Dixie mutters, examining Russia's face.

"Yeah, it's gonna leave a mark," America comments.

Dixie rolls his eyes before offering a hand to America. America takes it with a grin. Dixie pulls him up and into a tight hug.

"I'm glad all y'all got back home okay."

"I know."

They pull back and America glares at Dixie.

"What?"

"You hit my boyfriend. I'm allowed to be mad."

"Fine. I guess that's true," Dixie says before turning to Russia, "sorry Ruski. You good?"

Russia nods and relaxes a little. Dixie turns back to America with crossed arms.

"Why didn't you tell me anything about this?" Dixie asks, waving over his own face where America was hurt.

"I didn't want you to freak out."

Dixie rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

"You know me too well," Dixie says, punching America's shoulder.

America pushes him away with a huff. Dixie turns his attention back to Russia with a calculating gaze. America walks off to talk with Canada but glances over his shoulder at Russia several times on his journey.

Russia looks up and Dixie sighs.

"Maybe I judged you too harshly," Dixie grumbles, "Now don't be getting confused, I don't like you. Not with what you've done to Amy. And you're lucky Tex has some semblance of authority over most of them youngins cuz I would've had them help me. But I'll give you another chance."

Russia nods and Dixie gives one last glare, though not nearly as harsh as the first one had been.

"And you had better get your act together. If I see anything like that ever again on my brother, you're toast. You understand me?"

Russia nods emphatically and Dixie flashes a smirk.

"Good."

Dixie walks off to talk with the other returning states, a bright smile returning to his face, and Russia slumps over out of relief. America rushes over and kneels in front of him with worry in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" America asks.

"Your brother does not like me."

America laughs.

"Yeah, I guess not," America comments.

Russia smiles, and America kisses his forehead.

"Did he say anything?"

"No."

"I know he threatened you," America says pointedly. Russia looks away.

"Yes, he did," Russia agrees.

America chuckles and shakes his head.

"What is it going to take to get him to like you?" America mutters.

'I'd have to move mountains.'

~

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[hualicn]

Just a cute Lil fluffy fic cuz why r u is over and we r all emo about it.

Fighter finds a kitten an convinces Tutor to keep it :)

Word count: 1,402

Tutor was sitting in the living room laboring over work late into the night as usual. Fighter said he would be home late since some engineering seniors wanted to take him out drinking. Tutor rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming on after studying for a solid four hours. He decided to wrap up when he heard the door turn and Fighter come in.

“Hey P’Fight did you have fun-“ Tutor stopped talking when he noticed a fluffy creature in Fighters hands.

“What’s that?” He asked his boyfriend.

“Nothing.” Fighter said putting the thing behind his back.

Tutor got up and approached the taller man.

“Stop lying what is it?” He asked again and before either said another word a small ‘meow’ came from behind Fighters back.

A big smile broke out on Fighters face as he brought the kitten back around to his front.

“Are you trying to say hello to your new dad?” Fighter said in the cutest voice that Tutor had ever heard even though he was not particularly happy about this situation.

“Fight where the hell did you get a kitten?” Not giving in to the ball of white fluff still meowing in Fighters hands.

“I found him on the streets while walking home. Can we keep her please?” Fighter practically begged. He held out the small kitten in Tutors face and stuck out his bottom lip in a pleading gesture. Tutor just grabbed his temples again, his headache feeling worse.

“Let’s talk about this in the morning I’m too tired right now.” Tutor said walking into the bedroom so he could finally sleep.

Fighter stood there alone with the little white kitten, trying to read Tutors response and not feeling very good about it. He gave a little kiss to the top of the kittens head and put her in the bathroom with a little dish of water and found some canned fish she could eat for the night.

“Sorry I have to lock you in here, I’ll put in a good word for you.” He said shutting her in for the night.

When fighter went back into the bedroom he found Tutor already under the covers, seemingly asleep. He crawled in next to his boyfriend, putting an arm over his middle.

“P’Fight, what did you do with the kitten?” Tutor mumbled out.

“I locked her in the bathroom, she won’t get into any trouble I promise.” He said snuggling up into his boyfriend.

“We can’t have a cat P’” Tutor said a little louder, looking down at his boyfriend splayed out on top of him.

“Why not?” Fighter said looking up.

“Pets are a lot of work, not to mention I’m allergic.” He said running his hands through Fighters hair.

“But Tor, cats aren’t that much trouble and you aren’t that allergic. I think it would be fun.” He said putting his head back down on Tutors chest.

Tutor just sighed and continued playing with his boyfriends hair as they both fell asleep.

The next day Tutor woke up to the sound of meowing and scratching, he shook his boyfriend awake angrily.

“Can you go check on that thing? It woke me up.” He said pushing Fighter nearly off the bed.

Fighter grumbled but quickly got up to check on the crying kitten. When he opened the door to the bathroom he was greeted with an awful smell, he might have overlooked the whole litter box issue. He cleaned it up as quickly as he could before Tutor could find out what happened.

After everything was clean he picked up the small kitten and brought her into the bedroom, dropping her on top of the still sleeping Tutor.

“I have to go pick up supplies for our daughter so you have to watch her for a bit.” Fighter said with a big grin on his face.

“Daughter, my ass! I’m not watching her, she’s your responsibility.” Tutor said sitting up while the kitten crawled around their big bed.

“It’ll be good bonding time for you, see you in a bit.” Fighter said giving a quick kiss to Tutors head and rushing out the door.

The little kitten started attacking Tutors feet over the covers, he wiggled his toes to entertain her. He couldn’t help a little smile find its way on his face but he stopped himself.

“You aren’t cute and you’re not staying.” He said while getting out of the bed.

After Tutor changed he went to go brush his teeth but heard loud meowing coming from the bed. The small fluffy kitten was sitting on the edge looking at him for help since the jump was too big.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Tutor talking back to her. She just looked up at him with her big eyes and let out the softest ‘mew’ Tutor had ever heard. Defeated by her cuteness he walked over and carefully scooped her up and set her on the ground. Excitedly the kitten stuck its tail straight up into the air and rubbed herself on his ankles.

“This means nothing.” He said going back to the bathroom while the kitten ran after him.

A few hours later Fighter came back to the apartment.

“I’m home!” Tutor heard him yell from his place on the couch. Fighter walked in with armfuls of bags full of what he assumed were cat toys.

Fighter dropped everything and took in the scene on the couch. Tutor was sitting cross legged with the little ball of fur right on his lap fast asleep.

“She crawled up here on her own” Tutor tried to defend himself.

“Aw she likes you! Does that mean we can keep her?” Fighter asked coming to sit next to his boyfriend without waking the sleeping kitten. He gave her a few pets on the head and looked up at his boyfriend expectedly.

“I don’t know Fight, she’s cute but raising a kitten is a lot of work.” Tutor still wasn’t sure if they could take on the responsibility.

“Did you hear that little one? He thinks you’re cute.” Fighter said talking to the kitten. Tutor smiled at the way his boyfriend seemed to attach himself to the small creature.

“Well I hope you say yes because I already told Saifah and Zon we got a kitten and they’re coming over any minute.” Fighter said quickly getting off the couch before Tutor could hit him over the head.

Fighter sent the next hour setting up all the cat stuff alone (tutor claimed he couldn’t move since the cat was sleeping on him) and once everything was set up Saifah and Zon arrived.

“Where is she?” Zon said excitedly coming into the apartment.

“She’s been sleeping on Tutor for awhile.” Fighter said pointing to the couch. They all crowded around the sleeping creature who woke up from the commotion. She got up and stretched then looked at the four grown men and let out a little ‘meow’ in greeting.

“She’s adorable” Saifah noted.

“Isn’t she.” Fighter agreed.

“What’s her name?” Zon asked.

“She doesn’t have one because we haven’t decided if we are keeping her.” Tutor said. Saifah and Zon gave a questioning look to Fighter.

“Tutor claims we can’t keep her because he’s allergic and it’s too much responsibility.” Fighter clues them in.

“I think she is cute enough that popping some allergy pills every now and then would be worth it.” Saifah says and Fighter agrees but Tutor throws them a death glare.

The cat gets up and starts wandering around the apartment, checking out the scratching post and toys that Fighter bought earlier that day.

Zon sits down to play with her and she starts to meow excitedly.

“She talks a lot, maybe you should call her meow” Zon suggests while twirling around a ribbon for her to catch.

“Hm I don’t like that very much what about mowmow?” Saifah says sitting next to his boyfriend. Zon chuckles at the cute name he comes up with but he agrees with the name choice.

“Mowmow? What do you say Tor?” Fighter asks Tutor, putting his arm around his waist.

“I guess it’s pretty cute.” Tutor confesses.

“So we can keep her?”

“We can keep her.”

Fighter gives Tutor a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you Tor.” He says looking down at their new little kitten playing with their friends.

“Love you too Fight

[k-llama-llama]

Walk Away

Stray Kids AU: 10th member

Tori x Stray Kids

The effect of the rumours hits in full force.

A/N: I’ve literally had this storyline planned for over a year. I hope you all enjoy.

Requests are closed, but your feedback is still greatly appreciated!

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

Tori stood silent next to Chan as they faced their managers. The rest of the boys stood behind them, waiting just as anxiously.

Tori wasn’t completely sure what they were waiting for. The article had come out that morning, and it had no sooner broken that they were rushed to the company building. 

Tori and Chan hadn’t spoken. And neither had her and Hyunjin.

“Sir.” Their managers all stood.

Tori turned, bowing as JYP entered the room and took a seat. So that was what they were waiting for.

“Everyone.” He gave a polite nod. “Let’s get right into it, we don’t really have time to waste.”

“The article broke this morning.” Their manager began. “It’s already a PR nightmare. And we need to release some sort of statement soon.”

“Then let’s start with the simplest question. Is it true?” JYP turned to them.

“Sir?” Tori asked nervously.

“Are you and Chan involved with each other? Or have feelings for each other, as the article stated?”

“No, sir.” Chan denied quickly. “We don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Tori’s heart stung a little bit. “He’s telling the truth. It’s all made up.”

JYP sighed. “I’m trusting you on this, Chan. If you’re lying-”

“We’re not.” Chan promised.

“How did this article even break?” He demanded. “They said they had an insider source?”

“We contacted the news site, and they said they received an anonymous tip. They had photos of Tori and Chan out for ice cream, though those were obviously taken out of context.” A manager explained.

“A sasaeng?” Jisung suggested helpfully.

“Or the guy who has been following Tori around.” Minho muttered.

JYP looked up, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “We still haven’t figured anything out on that?”

“The police are still looking into it.”

JYP looked at the table.

Tori took a deep breath. They’d somehow convinced them that they weren’t involved with each other, but she knew that it wasn’t over.

“I think we know what we need to do.” JYP finally said.

Their manager nodded. Clearly they had discussed some options before. “I’ll write up the statement.”

“What statement?” Chan asked. “Just the denial.”

“And the announcement about Tori.” Their manager replied.

“Announcement?” Tori’s heart sank.

“It’s probably for the best that you take a step back.” JYP gave her a small smile. “Until things blow over.”

“Leave the group?” She demanded, ignoring the fact that Jeongin had latched onto her hand.

“A hiatus.” 

“Why would she have to go on a hiatus?” Seungmin asked. “She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“With these dating rumours, and the stalker issue...it’s probably for the best.” Their manager said.

“How long?” Tori asked desperately.

“Until it’s blown over.” She was given a vague answer.

“Please, sir!” She turned to JYP. 

He looked sympathetic, but ultimately shook his head. “I’m sorry Tori. I hope it won’t be for too long. But we need to think about not only the group’s image, but also your safety. I know it seems like we’re hurting you, but I promise it’s for the best.”

“We’ll start reorganizing promotions.” A manager said, standing from the table.

“Like?” Woojin asked. “What needs to be reorganized?”

“Well, you all will need practice time to rework the choreo and line distribution. And Tori’s solo stage will have to go to someone else...”

Tori felt like she was drowning. “I can’t do the solo stage?”

“Not until-”

“Things blow over, I got it.” She gave a sharp nod and turned and stormed out of the room.

“Tori!” Someone was shouting. She didn’t stop until the end of the hall, when she let Woojin grab her arm and spin her around. All of the boys were there, all looking the way she felt.

But she only had eyes for one.

“Why didn’t you back me up?” She glared at Chan.

“I denied it. That’s what we needed to do.” He insisted.

“You also said nothing when they decided to make me go on a hiatus.” She hissed. “What happened to standing by your team?”

“We need to let these rumours pass by. The group would suffer if both of us were-”

“You’re totally right, it’ll be fine without me.”

“You know that isn’t want I meant.”

“Tor, can we-” He looked at the others. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Wait.” A voice said quietly.

Tori turned to Hyunjin, who looked like he’d just seen a ghost.

He looked at her, eyes wide. “Are those rumours right? Are you actually dating?”

Tori’s mouth dropped open. “It isn’t...It isn’t like that.”

“But it is!” He insisted. “Because you’re dating and you didn’t tell me!”

“They just haven’t told everyone yet.” Felix tried to calm him down.

“But you know! And who else? Jeongin? Changbin?”

“I know nothing.” Changbin held up his hands.

“You told me...” Hyunjin looked like he was seconds away from bursting into tears. “You told me that it wouldn’t work because we were all in the same group. Or was it that it just wouldn’t work because it was me?”

“Things...things got complicated, Hyunjin.” Chan tried to reason with him. “Tori never meant to hurt you.”

“You both hurt me.” He shouted. “I’m leaving!” He turned and hurried down the hallway, Woojin hurrying after him.

Tori sighed and moved to follow.

A hand landed on her shoulder. “Tor, give him a minute.”

She yanked Chan’s hand off. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“We need to talk!” He insisted.

“We don’t need to talk, ever.” She looked into his eyes. “Because whatever this was, is done. I don’t want to be with someone who won’t even stand up for me, especially when they know I would always stand up for them.”

“I...I...” He floundered for words. “I’m still the leader of this group. And this effects all of us.”

“Actually,” She gave him her most evil smile. “I’m not an active member of Stray Kids. And you have yourself to thank for that.”

She turned to leave.

“Noona, we need to-”

“Stop it!” She snapped. “I’m really not in the mood, Jeongin.”

“So what? You’re just going to ditch us?” Chan looked confused, but also angry.

Tori shook her head. “Of course not. But I need a moment before I try to strangle you. So try and talk to me when you feel like backing me up.”

“I can’t contradict the head of our company.”

“This is a punishment for me. Because of the dating rumour!” She shouted, Felix, wrapping an arm around her waist in an attempt to quiet down. “They’re just using the stalker thing as an excuse.”

“So what if it is?”

“The problem, Chan, is that I’m the only one getting punished. Because I’m the girl. While you try to wrap your head around that, I’ll be packing my things.”

“Where are you going?” Jisung asked.

“A hotel.” She paused. “Or Zoey’s. I’ll text you when I’m there.”

“Let us know.” Chan sighed.

“I’m not texting you.” She frowned. “Ten or None, was it?”

“You’re being irrational.”

“Yeah, cuz I’m fucking pissed Chan. Because in the span of fifteen minutes the boy I like broke my heart, and I broke someone else’s. So I don’t feel like talking to you. Bye.” She stormed down the hall.

Chan’s mouth fell open as he took in her fading back. 

And he realized that he didn’t know how to undo this.

[greekgeek21]

The Codependency Competition Ch.1

I intend on not writing any more A/N unless absolutely necessary after this, but I just need to get a little bit of info out before we start (not that any of you are actually going to bother reading this, but if you are, good on you!). Anyway, this story is inspired by the story that @Literallyobsessed wrote: "The Highschool Experiment." I absolutely loved their idea, and I think that there should be more stories like it out there. That's why I'm doing this. Plus, once I get a story idea my head, there is nothing that make it go away. I'm going to try and keep this story in 3rd person all the way, but who knows what will happen?! Also, in this story, Percy and Annabeth are both 17, and they are both seniors. This story can also be found on Wattpad, Ao3, FF, and Inkitt.

THIS GOES FOR THE WHOLE STORY: I don't own PJO, sadly. That title goes to Uncle Rick. The plot's mine though. Sorry if any PJO characters turn a little OOC, I can't control that, but I'll try.

And I just wanted to thank my wonderful and amazing beta, JJ. You can find them on Ao3 as nightskywithrainbows. Go check them out!

That's it! I hope you enjoy this story, and please comment, like, and follow! Happy reading!

– your author

ΩΩΩ

Percy Jackson: the popular captain of the swim team.

Annabeth Chase: the nerdy new girl.

Both of them are on opposite sides of the popularity scale, and are thought to have never even spoken to one another. However, that rumor is completely wrong. In fact, Percy and Annabeth are dating, just without the knowledge of their classmates.

There are a lot of things about those two that the students at Goode High have no idea about. For example, they are both part of the most powerful group of demigods alive, and they are the unofficial leaders of Camp Half-blood, one of only two safe places in the world for demigods. But enough of that, let's get back to their secretive habits.

Three weeks ago, Percy and Annabeth were enjoying themselves with the rest of the Seven and Nico at Percy's apartment when Leo made a remark about Percy and Annabeth's relationship...

"Look at you two! I haven't seen you guys apart since Annabeth went on her quest! You guys have some serious codependency issues." he said.

Percy and Annabeth gave each other an incredulous look before Annabeth responded, "Not true! I can handle being apart from him!"

The prideful young demigod couldn't just ignore a direct blow to her pride, whether it be intentional or not.

"Yeah, right! I'll believe it when I see it," Jason cut in.

"You know what? We will prove it to you, one day, we will," Annabeth vowed.

Two weeks later, Annabeth was starting at Goode, and the opportunity had arisen for the duo to prove their friends wrong. Just as they were about to leave for school, Annabeth got the idea that they should pretend to not know each other at school and see how long they could last. Percy was hesitant at first, but was evidently convinced by his girlfriend, as always.

Now, another week having passed, Percy and Annabeth were walking to school. When they get closer, they have to separate so that it doesn't look like they came together, but for the moment, they were walking hand-in-hand down the sidewalk.

"Are you sure you wanna keep doing this? I mean, I hate not being able to kiss you at school! It's torture to see you ten feet away, but have us not even give each other a hug!" Percy said.

"I'm sure. This can be good for us; having some space, you know," Annabeth exclaimed.

"Alright, fine," he sighed, and then started to walk faster because Goode was coming into their sights, "Just know that I'm expecting a prize at the end of today for my efforts, ok?"

Annabeth just rolled her eyes and started to slow her strides.

When Percy and Annabeth entered the senior hallway, he walked over to his friends and she walked over to hers, his being a considerably larger group. Percy's real friends consist of mostly the people from the swim team, but there's still a group of people that just use his friendship for popularity. For example, Kelsey Evans, Goode's resident mean girl. She wants to become Percy's girlfriend so bad, but he always rejects her. Unfortunately, she keeps coming back, and when she thinks someone else is going to try something with Percy, she bullies them away. The only reason Percy puts up with her is so that he can keep an eye on her.

Annabeth's friend group consists of four other people, two boys and two girls. There is Nora, Addison, Noah, and Ethan. They are all the 'nerdy' type, so they spend most of their free time either in the library or together. Annabeth met Nora first, and she immediately got the run-down of the school social hierarchy from her. At first, Annabeth was surprised to hear that her boyfriend was at the top, considering how much of a Seaweed Brain he can be.

At Annabeth's friend group, Noah was actually speaking about the 'cool' group, "Look how righteous they are, thinking they're better than everyone else! I mean, do they really have to block the entire hallway?"

It was a well known fact in their group that Noah didn't like the cool kids. Apparently it had something to do with a swimming lesson in PE last year.

"At least Percy's kinda nice," Addison added.

"I guess, but he's also kinda scary. I mean, the way that he's beat up some kids! Maybe people just say he's nice cuz' they're scared of him," Ethan said.

"Aren't the kids he beats up bullies?" Nora asked.

"Whatever, I still don't think someone who keeps company like Kelsey should be given the benefit of the doubt," he said.

Without anyone knowing, Annabeth had actually been staring at Percy. His unruly hair, his bright, sea green eyes, and the way that little dimples appeared when he smiled his big, dopey grin could make any girl swoon. Fortunately, she managed to break herself out of her daze before her friends figured out what was wrong with her. She would never tell Percy this, but she was struggling to remain in control of her actions just as much as he was.

The warning bell rang, and everyone started to slowly head towards their first class of the day. The next time Percy and Annabeth would see each other would be in the one of only two classes they shared: Advanced Greek. All of their other classes were separate because Annabeth was taking almost all advanced classes and Percy was only taking the one.

In that class, Percy and Annabeth just so happened to be seated on opposite sides of the room. So, the only class they have together and they aren't even near each other. It's perfect! Annabeth sits next to Addison, and Percy sits next to someone else crazy enough to take Advanced Greek.

When fourth period Greek came around, Percy and Annabeth gave each other a glance as they entered the room, but that was it. That glance was a secret message that they had come up with on the first day: I love you. I was just a reassurance that this whole ordeal wasn't affecting their love for each other.

"Alright class, today we're going to have a pop-quiz! I know, I know, I'm your favorite teacher!" Mr. Anastas said while handing out the papers for the quiz, "You have 20 minutes to finish, afterwards it is free time."

Annabeth and Percy both loved this class because they didn't really have to try in it, the language just came easily. It may not be Ancient Greek, but it's still understandable.

Percy gave Annabeth a glance with a smirk as a form silent communication to say 'race you!'. Annabeth didn't even answer, she just got to work. It only took her three minutes to finish, and just as she was getting up, Percy was doing the same. They both tried to speed-walk without anyone noticing, but by the time they neared the teacher's desk, they were practically running. Just as Annabeth was about to place her paper down, Percy slammed his down before she could. The noise caused everyone to jump and look up to where is came from. What shocked everyone was what they found:

Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase staring each other down!

Addison's eyes widened when she realized that her best friend was glaring at the Percy Jackson. And he was glaring right back!

"I won! Haha!" Percy exclaimed in Ancient Greek with a huge grin on his face.

"Not true! You cheated, Seaweed Brain!" Annabeth rebutted.

"Careful, your hubris is showing," Percy pointed at her.

Seething, Annabeth finally took the time to realize that the entire class, including Mr. Anastas was watching their exchange. She blushed and said, "We should get back to our seats. Bye."

While she turned away, Annabeth could hear Percy yell something at her before he turned to his own seat: "I love you!"

She just rolled her eyes. Seaweed Brain, she thought.

When she got back to her seat, her friend seemed to be trying to figure out what they were saying. Luckily, the teacher and the rest of the class were doing the same thing. If anyone had caught onto what Percy said at the end of their conversation, their secret would be exposed a lot sooner than anticipated.

The rest of Greek class included people rushing to finish their quizzes, the teacher trying to figure out how his students knew more Greek than him, and Percy and Annabeth trying to avoid looking at each other. They didn't need anyone suspecting they actually knew each other!

ΩΩΩ

chapter 2 :)

[warriorlid14]

After the Fact

Another one-shot within a month?? I’m on a roll here.

This one goes out to @windschildfanfictionwriter because she’s pretty cool and I love her stories. Seriously, if you love Ron, go read them.

Anyway, here’s another Ron and Harry friendship fic. Word count: 4,261. You can find the series of oneshots this belongs to on AO3 and FFN. 

They sat on the floor, leaning against Ron’s bed, arms pressed against each other, passing the bottle back and forth. There was the occasional cough when one of them drank a little too much or a little too fast. Harry didn’t know where he’d gotten the bottle, and Ron didn’t offer an explanation, so they sat quietly, both lost in thought.

It wasn’t the first time Ron had woken him from a nightmare, not by a long shot, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. But it wasn’t lost on Harry the fact that he hadn’t been too far into the nightmare before being woken, or the fact that he was sure he hadn’t screamed. He also didn’t miss the dark circles under Ron’s eyes or that he was a little too eager to tip back the bottle, more eager than he’d be if he was simply drinking to accompany Harry. 

Ron had been awake long before waking Harry from his nightmare.

So they drank in amicable silence, only ever moving when one of them had to run to the loo. They were almost a fourth of the way through the bottle before Ron broke the silence. “I know that-” he paused, gathering his thoughts. His voice was tentative, quiet, as if he wasn’t sure he should be speaking. “I know that I don’t know what it’s like. I’ve never lost anyone the way that you have. But you can talk to me, you know. I’d listen. I’d try to understand.”

Ron had shifted, and without glancing up, Harry knew that he was looking at him, searching for a sign of what he was thinking. But Harry simply nodded and took another swig of the bottle. “I know,” he said, coughing through his words. His eyes stung and Harry desperately hoped that Ron knew the tears were because the drink had gone down the wrong pipe. He cleared his throat, then said, “I just don’t want to talk about it.”

Ron opened his mouth to say something else, but a quick glance from Harry had him closing it. He nodded instead, then said, “Okay.”

And it wasn’t that he didn’t think Ron would get it. Well, okay, maybe a little bit. Because how could he explain to someone who was surrounded by a family who loved him what it was like to lose a parental figure for the third fucking time. And sure, he didn’t exactly remember what it was like to lose his parents, but to finally have someone that resembled one, that loved him and wanted to care for him and who Harry actually trusted, and to see them murdered in front of your eyes… Well, Harry sure as hell hoped Ron never knew what that was like. But still, he knew that Ron would listen and try his best to understand and not judge him if he cried and do whatever he could to help because Ron was a good friend. A pretty damn great friend. And Harry trusted Ron more than anyone else in the world along with Hermione. But, well, if he started talking now… If he started crying… He wasn’t sure when he would stop. And there was a war looming over them and how could Harry win a war, protect those he loved, if he was too overcome with grief and loss to fight? He couldn’t fall apart. Not yet.

So instead, he’d get drunk with his best friend and laugh at his stupid jokes and play Quidditch with the Weasleys and affectionately roll his eyes at Hermione when she nagged about homework and share an exasperated look with Ginny whenever Hermione and Ron bickered and plot ways to kill Umbridge and Snape with Ron and the twins and get drunk with his best friend again whenever he felt the dark claws of hatred and grief and anger and pain tear at his insides and all he wanted to do was scream.

Harry took another swig.

Eventually, though, his head started to feel fuzzy. And he leaned against Ron a little more than he should. But it was obviously because they were best friends and because he was secure in his masculinity and not because the world was spinning a bit. Right.

But it was because he was suddenly so close that he could so clearly see the silver scars that inched underneath a tear in the jumper that Ron had been so keen on wearing after the Department of Mysteries despite it being summer. And it was probably because Ron was also feeling the effects of the alcohol that he began mindlessly scratching his scars underneath his jumper. Harry had rarely seen him do this before, but only because the instant Ron realized Harry was watching him, he’d immediately stop, blushing a bit. And he’d heard Mrs. Weasley reprimand him a few times for scratching and he’d mutter an apology, not meeting Harry’s eyes afterwards.

They hadn’t talked about the Department of Mysteries at all besides making sure the other was alive and well. They hadn’t discussed the brains that had attacked Ron and that was probably because Harry couldn’t stand to even think about the fact without feeling a rush of guilt at having needlessly scarred his friend for life.

And again, Harry blamed it on the alcohol, because without even realizing he had until the words were out of his mouth, he asked “Does it hurt?”

Immediately, Ron retrieved his hand and despite the darkness of the room, Harry saw a faint flush travelling up his cheeks. “What?”

“Your scars. Do they hurt?”

“No,” Ron said far too quickly for it to be the truth, and he must’ve known that he was caught in a lie because he blushed again and then said, “They… sting sometimes, but I have potions for that. They mostly just… itch every once in a while, but it’s fine.” 

There was that familiar churning of guilt because Ron wouldn’t be taking potions if the scars just stung. And Ron hadn’t been sleeping well, either. So, knowing he was treading on uncharted territory but fully not giving a shit anymore, he asked, “Do you have nightmares about that night?”

He didn’t answer for a second, so Harry looked up to meet his eyes and he knew Ron well enough to know that that look meant he was considering whether he should lie or not, but he conceded, saying, “Once in a while,” and Harry must have looked guilty at the confirmation, because Ron immediately rushed to say “But they’re not horrible or anything. Just… I can handle it. I’m fine, Harry. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Harry felt a flare annoyance and was ready to snap back that he didn’t have to lie, that he didn’t have to pretend to be okay to appease Harry, that wasn’t it a bit hypocritical of him to expect him to talk about what happened, when he didn’t have the courtesy to do the same? But instead, all that came out of his mouth after brooding in silence for a few minutes, after Ron had awkwardly tipped the bottle back two more times was, “I’m sorry.”

Ron blinked. “What for?”

Harry pulled away from him and gave him an incredulous look. “For dragging you into this shit with me. For giving you nightmares. For almost killing you!” Harry was growing steadily louder with each new declaration, and he was glad that Ron’s room was on the top floor and they were less likely to be heard. “For- for this!” He reached out, grabbed Ron’s arm eliciting a yelp from Ron as Harry pulled up the sleeve of his jumper, revealing thick, silver scars, winding up his arm so far up that Harry was sure they reached his shoulder, which he would know for sure if Ron wasn’t suddenly shy about changing in front of him in a way that reminded him of their first year when it was Harry who didn’t want his bruises and thinness on display, back when he barely even trusted Ron to hug him, to talk to him. And it had been Ron who had joked and laughed and nudged him and stubbornly knocked down his walls and dragged him out of his shell and shown him what family and friendship was. And now it was Ron who was hiding, who had been hurt because of him and he wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. So instead he took another swig.

Ron angrily pulled down his sleeve and glared at him. “I’m sorry, I may be recalling the events that happened incorrectly, but did you hold me at wand-point and force me to go?”

Harry glared right back. “No, but-”

“Still talking,” Ron interrupted, holding up his hand. And he would’ve looked more stern if he hadn’t slurred that last word. Still, he barreled on. “Cuz I seem to remember going out of my own free will. And anyway, it was me who summoned the brains, so if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“Because you were attacked by a death eater!”

“Yeah, and who was stupid enough to get hit by that spell? Me, not you.”

Harry shook his head. He knew the drinks were getting to his brain, but he was sure that  that line of logic didn’t make sense at all. “It’s a death eater, Ron! And there was more than one! And you were also trying to protect Ginny and Luna!”

“Fine! Then we should blame the death eaters!” 

Harry fell back against Ron, too tired to argue. 

“I still shouldn’t have taken you with me.” 

Maybe not.

“Oi! I just said that was my choice.”

Harry pulled away again and glared at him. “Well, you should’ve just left me go on my own then!” Because wasn’t that the issue? Him leading people to their deaths? His bad choices getting people he loved killed?

Ron angrily rolled his eyes at him, then for good measure, angrily took a swig of the bottle. “Shut up, Harry,” he coughed. “What was I supposed to do? Let you possibly be killed on your own?“

"Yes!”

“Shut up,” he repeated, glaring down at Harry, but his eyes were a little unfocused. “We both know I’d jump in front of the killing curse for you if necessary.” And that, Harry was fairly certain, was only vocalized because of the drink in his hand.

Harry gaped at him, his blood turning to ice because that was the last thing he wanted to hear. “What the fu- why would you-” Words seemed to escape him, and it had nothing to do with being tipsy. “Why the hell would it even be necessary? My life is not more important than yours, Ron!” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, not entirely, but crying please, please, please don’t ever die for me didn’t seem like the appropriate response.

“Sure it is.” And he said it so nonchalantly, without even sparing a glance at him, that Harry felt sick. Because didn’t he get it? That him dying, that Hermione dying, would be the worst thing that could possibly happen to him?

So he lashed out. “Why? Because of the stupid prophecy?”

“No you daft pillock, because you’re my best friend and I love you.” He didn’t even blush when he said it, which Harry took to mean that he’d definitely, for sure had too much to drink. He took the bottle away from Ron. He didn’t doubt Ron’s words, it’d be stupid to, really, with all they’d been through. But well, neither of them had ever been the type to openly and explicitly put their feelings into words. Not really. “And, you know, the whole Chosen One thing is just an added bonus.”

He put the bottle down, not wanting to drink anymore as he was already feeling very lightheaded and he didn’t want to be absolutely shit faced for this conversation. Or, well, he did, but he probably shouldn’t be. His best friend had just told him that he’d die for him and that he loved him and admittedly, it wasn’t the first time he said the latter (or the second or the third), but it was the first time he’d said it seriously and not in a flippant “you’re an idiot” “yeah, I love you too” kind of way. So it probably warranted some level of sobriety. But instead of acknowledging that, because of course Harry loved him too, the thing he’d miss the most and all after all, but he didn’t have much of a response beyond the aforementioned please, please, please don’t ever die for me, so he said, “So you believe it, huh?”

“What?”

“The prophecy.”

“Oh.” He paused for a second, then said, “I mean, I don’t know much about prophecies. They mostly come true. Although not always in the way you’d think they would. Kinda like…” He paused again, tapped his fingers against the floor in a way that let Harry know he was concentrating. “Yeah, no, I can’t think of an example right now. But they don’t always turn out the way you think they will even if they technically become true.”

Harry nodded. “Like a genie.”

“What?”

“A genie.”

“What’s Ginny gotta do with this?”

Harry couldn’t help but break out into giggles, spurred on by Ron’s look of confusion. “Sorry, sorry, continue.”

Ron shook his head in mild amusement. “What was I saying? Yeah, okay, prophecies. Sometimes they don’t come true at all because the future is not prede- predetermined.” He slurred the last word, then said “It’s not set in stone. So you can change them.” He nodded then, looking a little proud of himself for managing to finish his speech on prophecies.

“So what does this have to do with mine?”

“Right! So I reckon with yours, I don’t know, maybe you’re not the only one who can defeat You-Know-Who, but you’re the one who will.”

Harry nodded, and looked down at his lap. Began playing with the hem of his shirt. “So you really think I can beat him?” The words came out in the same quiet, tentative voice Ron had used earlier.

“Of course, mate!” He clapped him on the back. “And it’s not like you wouldn’t have help, eh? I mean, you have us, right? Me and Hermione. And my family and Dumbledore and the rest of the Order. So you’d never be alone. And anyway, I figure it’s just a matter of proba- probabi-” He cursed under his breath and Harry giggling again. “Numbers. It’s a matter of numbers. He’s tried to kill you so many times that at some point you’re bound to get a lucky shot.”

Harry nodded and reached over and took a sip from the bottle. Then he let out a small “oops” when he remembered he wasn’t supposed to drink anymore. Ron, however, had made no such promise and shamelessly chugged a bit of the bottle before setting it down a little too harshly, spilling some of its contents. 

“Ron?” he said, after a bit of silence. (And another two large sips, oops).

“Yeah?”

“You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.”

Harry took a breath. “So don’t… Don’t die, alright? Not for me. I don’t care what the prophecy says.” It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say and definitely not as eloquently as it’d ought to be said. But then, he didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say. How could he encompass five years of friendship and loyalty and laughter and hardships, and how could he possibly vocalize how much he would be torn apart to lose it all? It was too horrible to consider, the mere thought almost bringing a lump in his throat.

No. That was an actual lump. Harry took the bottle again, to wash it down before Ron noticed he had choked up.

He didn’t, but he did take a full minute before saying, “Harry, you swam to the bottom of a lake for me, and almost drowned, and I know for a fact that you’re a shitty ass swimmer-” Harry let out a hey in protest. “But you went anyway. And you chased after me into the shrieking shack when you thought a serial killer had captured me. It works both ways, mate. You can’t just-” he paused, seemingly having trouble putting his thoughts into words. “You can’t just put your ass on the line for someone and then get offended when they do the same.”

“Yeah, but you- The chess set. And the acromantulas. And the only reason I had to chase after you was because you pushed me aside. And then you stood in front of me, on a broken leg, and said he’d have to get through you first. And the Department of Mysteries!”

Ron shrugged. “Works both ways,” he repeated.

“Ron.” Despite the drinking, he still had the good sense not to bang his hand on the floor in frustration. But that just made the desperation in the pit of his stomach even worse. “Don’t you get it? I’m always going to put you in more danger than you could possibly put me in!”

“So what do I do, Harry?” Ron hissed. “Throw you out? Let you face all that shit on your own? That’s not-” Ron ran a hand through his hair. He could see the anger in his eyes, but also a little bit of desperation as well. “It sucks. I know it does. I get that. Or, well, maybe I don’t, but I do know what it’s like to be forced to sit back and watch as your best friend gets thrown into danger every fucking year and not be able to do a thing about it and that sucks.” … And Harry supposed he hadn’t really thought about it that way, too busy trying to survive to think about how worried his friends would be. “So if every once in a while I can take some of that danger for myself-” He shrugged, and he wasn’t looking at Harry anymore. “I’ll take it. Gladly. It’s just what happens when you care about someone, mate.” And if Ron noticed that Harry’s eyes were suddenly glistening, he didn’t mention it. “You don’t just let them face shit like that on their own.”

They’d never been this open with each other before. Not about their feelings or fears. And Harry wasn’t sure if it was due to the alcohol or that neither of them had had a full night rest in God knows how long, or the fact that they had almost died (again). But Harry didn’t entirely hate it, even though the lump in his throat was back. And as much as he tried, it wouldn’t go away, not if he kept talking. He couldn’t end the conversation, though, even though he was suddenly having a hard time stringing coherent sentences in his brain. Not yet. Not before…

“I love you too, you know that, right?” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he’d spoken. Not that he’d take them back. “And I’m sorry I’ve never said it before, but-” He choked, swiping at his eyes. 

And this time, Ron swung his arm over his shoulder, pulling him into a one-armed hug. “Hey, it’s okay. I know. You don’t have to tell me-”

“No, yes I do,” he said, shaking his head, and he thought maybe he sounded a little hysterical. “Because you’re my best friend. And if something happened to you, and I didn’t get to tell you, like-” Like Sirius. He closed his eyes, fighting a losing battle against the tears now spilling down his cheeks. 

And it was a testament that Ron didn’t actually have the emotional range of a teaspoon, because Ron could guess at what had happened, what had been left unsaid between Harry and Sirius without Harry having to explain. Because he was suddenly being wrapped in a tight hug and Ron was shushing him, saying softly, “hey, you’re going to be okay.”

Harry shook his head, unable to explain to Ron that he couldn’t fall apart, not now, not when the entire weight of the wizarding world was on his shoulders and his alone. But it was too late now. The floodgates, as they say, were open. So what could he do, besides sag into Ron’s embrace and softly cry into his best friend’s shoulder. 

And some small corner of his mind thought that maybe this wasn’t so bad. That maybe it was okay, maybe even a little nice, to not be crying alone right now.

He didn’t know how long he cried, but eventually he was able to pull away enough for the full-on hug to turn back into a one-armed hug. He still leaned against Ron, though, and closed his eyes as the last of the tears dissipated.

He must’ve fallen asleep, because the next time he opened his eyes, there was a small amount of light filtering through the window, indicating sunrise. He was momentarily confused as to why his neck hurt so much, and why he was on the floor instead of on a mattress. But when he pulled away from what he was leaning on, he immediately clutched his head and let out a groan.

“That would be a hangover.” He turned his head to the sudden voice to his left, and let out another groan at what he was sure was his brain trying to break out of his skull. Ron let out a soft laugh. Harry turned to glare at him, and was greeted with a weak grin and a “Good morning, sunshine. It’s good you woke up. I was about to piss myself.”

Despite his attempt at joking, though, Ron looked utterly exhausted. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced, almost black instead of purple, made all the more obvious against pale skin. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction, even worse than Harry’s usual style. And his eyes were bloodshot, and Harry wasn’t sure if it was due to lack of sleep or if Ron had cried with him the previous night.

His mouth felt suddenly dry, and he said, “Did you even sleep?”

“I’m fine. I still have a few hours before Mum comes and wakes us up. Besides, I sobered up enough over the past couple of hours that I don’t have to worry about a hangover.” Despite his reassurances, Ron let out a big yawn, blushing a bit as he did, then immediately wincing as he pulled his arm right arm to him, probably cramped up from where Harry had leaned on it half the night.

“You should’ve woken me up. You look like shit,” Harry said, voice sympathetic.

Ron snorted and gave him an incredulous look. “I’m sorry, should I introduce you to a mirror?” But his eyes twinkled, letting him know that he was joking.

Harry couldn’t help himself. He laughed. Actually laughed, suddenly feeling… not weightless, but weighing… well, a little less, like some of the sorrow he had held onto had dissipated, just a little, a tiny smidge, but enough to leave a tiny window for something else. Like laughter. So he did. Not a snort, or an alcohol-induced giggle, but an actual laugh.

And it wasn’t much. It wasn’t like he was healed, whatever that meant because no one night of drinking could do that, but it could be enough for now.

Except that his head still really fucking hurt, and laughing was making it worse, and that irony was too hilarious for him to not laugh at.

Ron looked slightly alarmed at the turn of events, but as Harry was laughing and not crying or screaming or anything of the sort, he didn’t say anything, not until Harry clutched at his head again and let out a weak “ow”. 

“I’ll go get you some water, then. And I can probably find some hang-over potion, or at least something for headaches.” He moved to stand, but made the mistake of pushing himself up with his right hand, causing him to immediately flinch and let out a swear, sitting back down. “Er- maybe give me a second,” he said as he massaged his arm. That stopped Harry’s laughter.

“You should’ve woken me up.” Ron rolled his eyes and got up again, this time relying on his left arm. 

“I’m fine. Go lay down, you can have my bed for now. I’ll take the mattress.” Harry opened his mouth again to protest, but Ron cut him off, exasperatedly saying, “Will you stop being a stubborn git and let me help you?”

Harry stopped. Ron was talking about water, and potions, and the bed, of course, but Harry was instantly brought back to the previous night’s conversation. To the fact that Ron had stayed up all night despite how exhausted he was, letting his arm cramp up, to watch over him, to be a shoulder to cry on. Harry opened his mouth to say thank you, to tell him how much he appreciated and cared about him, how much he valued their friendship, but he said, “Okay. I will.”

Ron smiled at him, and Harry was left with the slight impression that maybe he wasn’t talking about water or potions or beds either. “Alright. Go to bed then.” Harry grumbled, but obeyed.

And by the time Ron came up with a glass of water in one hand and a vial of potion on the other, Harry was already fast asleep.

[drakewalkerfantasy]

Flames of yesterday: Chapter 9

Summary: 5 years ago they made a mistake. They were two broken men drinking away their love life issues, and one girl trying to help a friend. What the night leaves them with are two broken hearts and one nearly broken friendship. 5 years later, two are still broken and another one fixed. But what happens when they all meet again? Will it open old wounds and bring all the their insecurities rushing back?  Or will it mend the two hearts still looking for warmth, unable to find it after their parting?

Words: 3353

Authors notes: A crossover of Open Heart and the Elementalists, a collaboration series by @drakewalkerfantasy and @fluffy-marshmallow-heart

Ethan x OH MC (Diana)

Beckett x TE MC (Oriana)

**Warnings: no warnings needed**

Leaving the hospital Diana mindlessly walked along the streets trying to clear her head, not caring where she’s going. Ethan’s harsh words still thunder in her head, followed by his gentle ones, drowning out all other thoughts. In a worthless attempt she tried to forget all of it, tried to forget the hope she felt, and the warmth of his hands holding hers. Her hands still feeling the memory of their fingers brushing, sending a current of electricity through her body.

For a moment she thought that this was a dream, simply wishful thinking to distract her from the memories of the past. The protection mechanism her brain used to make the pain go away, but the bandage was the distant reminder that this time it was real… he was real. Distantly she remembered how close he was, how his eyes got stormy just for a second and it seemed that it took everything in him not to snap, kissing her senselessly in this supply closet. She sighed heavily, leaning on the handrail of a wooden bridge. Even not realising it, she came to her favourite place. The place her mother usually took her to when she was a child, when she wasn’t so terribly sick. To the place where she and Beckett came every year from the day her mother died to throw flowers in the river. Even five years ago when they fell apart, he still came standing by her side, not speaking, but quietly throwing soft flowers into the water.

She raised her face, letting the warm wind wash over her, standing there for a moment longer before finally heading home. When she got home it was already late and she slowly went through the darkness, enjoying the quietness and loneliness of the place. Her minds still heavy with a myriad of thought, but the pain became fainter as an echo of memory that will always be with her. Sitting on the bed she reached for her mobile for the first time since leaving the hospital hours ago. Her heart fluttering in anticipation and hope when she sees three missed phone calls and two new voicemails but falls a bit a second later seeing familiar numbers. She hesitated for a moment, her finger freezing for a second above Beckett’s number, then Oriana’s, debating if she could call them so late in the evening…

This is probably too late. She thought looking at the clock, watching them pass past ten o’clock. Ori is probably already asleep with how exhausting pregnancy is. And Beckett will kill me if I would wake her up. With a smile Diana removed her finger moving to her voicemail box. Her heart squeezing in hope to hear Ethan’s voice, her fingers trembling a little. She heard a familiar cheerful voice on the other end, a small smile reaching her lips as if a small part of the happiness of the caller reached her, making her heart lighter.

“Diiii, It’s Ori. Listen, Beckett told me what happened at the café, and then said you ran off towards the end of your shift. I know both of you have the day off tomorrow, so I’m really really hoping you’ll come over and help with our nursery? Beckett is insisting that I don’t do any painting, even though it’s totally fine, but you know him, such a worry-wort.”

The ring of her laughter made a full smile spread on Diana’s face. “So anyways, think about it, cuz he’s driving me nuts. Talk later!

Diana shook her head, still smiling, knowing full well how Oriana and Beckett’s conversation about her painting in a small room would have gone. She can practically picture how much eye-rolling Oriana did until she finally gave up, called Beckett impossible and how she was going to call Diana so she could agree with her. A chuckle escaped Diana’s lips, the thought of Beckett and Oriana always made her happy. The two of them just clicked and she was a bit envious of that. That’s what she wants, she wants a relationship like theirs.

Her smile faltered with the next thought coursing through her. Ethan Ramsey.

Why so brazenly ask for my number if he still doesn’t plan to call me? She thought to herself. Subconsciously still hoping to hear his voice, unsure if she should or shouldn’t. Her fingers trembled before moving to the next message, Beckett’s warning from the other day thundering in her head. But everything died the moment she heard the second voicemail, the one she hoped to receive. Her heart fluttered when the message began.

“Dr. Haynes? I mean, Diana… This is Dr. Ramsey… Ethan Ramsey…”

She heard him clearing his throat as though nervous and he cursed quietly under his breath, making Diana giggle softly.

“Tommy’s blood test results are ready; I was hoping to share them with you…there was nothing conclusive, so I wanted to get your thoughts…” He trailed off again, and Diana sighed, realizing he only wanted to talk business. Until he spoke again, his words rushing out.

“And also to make sure you’re okay. I’ll call tomorrow, it’s getting late. I shouldn’t have called so late, I apologize.”

There was a click and the automated voice sounded in her ear next, asking if she wanted to keep the message or delete it. Of course she’s keeping it. Despite telling herself not to, she listened to the message several times that night, butterflies erupting in her stomach every time she heard the last few rushed sentences. She noticed he didn’t leave his number, but she fell asleep with a smile on her face for the first time in ages, knowing that meant it was guaranteed he would call her again.

The following morning, Diana head over to Beckett and Oriana’s house, armed with coffee for him and tea for her. She rang the doorbell and a minute later, a disheveled and paint covered Beckett opened the door.

Diana raised her eyebrows. “You do know you’re supposed to paint the walls…right?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Oriana thought it would be funny to fling paint at me. She’s still mad about not helping. It made her laugh, so I guess I shouldn’t complain but…” He gestured to his now ruined clothing.

Diana stifled a laugh as she brushed past him and into their house. Oriana burst into the foyer. “Oh thank god you’re here! Beck doesn’t know how to paint. I mean, look at him.”

Diana looked between Oriana’s smirking face and Beckett’s glowering one. A slow smile spreading on her face as she spoke to Beckett. “Wow. That’s some painting you’re doing. Good thing you called in an expert before you completely confused yourself with the wall. I mean honestly, who does that?”

Beckett’s mouth fell open as Diana handed Oriana her freshly brewed tea. “And also, you’re supposed to wear old clothing that you don’t care if you get paint on. That’s basically painting 101.”

“You two are impossible.” He grumbled under his breath, grabbing his coffee. “I’ll be upstairs. Painting. The walls.” Throwing one last glare at the girls, he disappeared up the stairs, the sound of music floating down.

Oriana and Diana burst out laughing.

“He just makes it so easy!” Oriana gloated as their laughter died down.

“He really does.” Diana agreed, still chuckling. “My goodness, you had a lot of fun doing that, didn’t you?”

“I did.” Oriana grinned. “He had it coming. Honestly, he wouldn’t even let me into the room! I had to be quick about it!”

“I believe it. I’m impressed, actually. Now, how areyou feeling? You’re not lightheaded or anything?”

Oriana groaned. “Not you too.”

“Just worried about my bestie.” Diana slung her arm around Oriana’s shoulder as they went into the kitchen and sat on the stools at the island.

Oriana sighed. “Honestly? I’m always nauseous, this heartburn is killing me, I’m getting slower and bigger by the day, my feet are swelling…girl, pregnancy is hard. And all I want to do is put the nursery together, but he won’t let me paint, or put furniture together, or lift anything…he’s driving me nuts! I’m pregnant, not helpless.”

“He just cares.” Diana sympathized. “You know you and this baby are his world, and he worries so much about you. You should hear him every day, talking about how he can’t wait for his break so he can call you and make sure you’re not dead.”

“He does not say that!” Oriana gasped.

“Well, no, not those exact words. I’m just filling in the blanks. Besides, at least you have someone to fret over you. That’s more than some of us…” Diana trailed off, looking at her friend guiltily. “Oh god, I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

“How are things going with Ethan?” Oriana asked blatantly.

Diana’s eyebrows shot up. One thing about Oriana, she never beat around the bush. “Ummm. Well…it’s complicated. I guess. I don’t know, really.” But at the mention of Ethan’s name, Diana found herself smiling again.

“Okay, well. Spill. What happened yesterday?”

Diana grimaced. “First, he completely berated me. I was humiliated. It was a hard case, and it just reminded me of my mom, so I wasn’t focused, and he noticed and ugh, he was such a dick.”

“But you just smiled.” Oriana pointed out.

Diana shrugged. “Well…I ran off and ran into the first dark room I could find. A supply closet, naturally. You’d be surprised how many there are in that place, it’s crazy. And I was crying and went into a panic attack and I didn’t notice when someone came in, but I figured it was Beckett.”

Oriana stiffened a bit at the mention of it but quickly regained her composure as Diana continued.

“It turned out to be Ethan that followed me in there. He calmed me down, and I swear, Ori, I thought he might kiss me. He didn’t but, god I wish he had. I really like him. I try to deny it, but I just can’t. The attraction is so hard to ignore. I don’t know what to do, really.”

“Ahem.” Beckett appeared in the doorway. “Weren’t you going to help me paint?”

Diana rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine, interrupt our girl talk.”

Beckett’s cheeks flushed. “I just…wanted to get this done so I can build the crib.”

Diana laughed. “Well when you put it that way…” She hopped off the bar stool and, throwing a wink at Oriana, disappeared upstairs. When she walked into the room that would become their child’s, Diana felt a surge of pride. Her two best friends were bringing life into the world, a product of their love for each other. Diana was thrilled for them and couldn’t wait to become an Auntie.

They’d picked out a beautiful shade of sea foam green for the bottom half of the walls, and a light blue for the top half. Diana planned on making a few small white clouds as well. They’d chosen not to find out if it’s a boy or girl, which drove Diana nuts but it’s what they wanted. When deciding what to do for the nursery, Beckett had read that exposure to the color green may increase reading ability, and Oriana liked the blue for the calming aspect, so this is what they decided in the end.

“So? I’m at your disposal, where do you want me to start?” chimed Diana reaching for a paintbrush, but before she could take it, Beckett also bent down to dip his own brush into the paint, instead painting Diana’s jeans making her jump up with squeal. “Hey!!!”

“Sorry I…” started Beckett, trying to suppress his laugh from the pay back, even if it wasn’t done intentionally. But one look at Diana’s smirking face was enough for him to frown uncomprehendingly. “Why are you not mad?”

“Beckett, as I said, you don’t wear your good clothes to paint,” she laughed, watching his frowning expression while bursting in a fit of laughter. “You should see yourself right now.” She giggled, dipping her brush into blue paint making another line on her jeans next to Beckett’s.

“What are you doing? You are ruining them…”

“Old clothes… remember?” Diana laughed, painting the tip of Beckett’s nose blue before quickly stepping aside, further from him. “And this is how it’s done.”

“Oh, you are so going down for that,” he growled, almost tripping over the paint can.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Diana gasped, her eyes widening. “You know that you may accidentally spill the paint and Ori never forgive us if we stain the carpet.”

“Shit…” cursed Beckett throwing daggers at Diana with his eyes before hearing Oriana’s footsteps on the stair. “Peace,” they quickly agreed as he darted to the door.

“Guys, is everything is okay in here?” Oriana asked, being stopped by Beckett before she could enter the nursery, his hands on her shoulders and backing her away from entrance.

“Everything is fine, why wouldn’t it be? Also, I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t come near the nursery until the room is painted and thoroughly dried. How many times do I need to repeat that paint fumes can be unhealthy for you and the baby.” Beckett scolded, watching Oriana roll her eyes, but obediently stepping back.

“No… It was you who agreed I will not get anywhere near our baby’s room while you’re painting. But there was nothing said about checking on you two…” Oriana trailed off, finally registering the paint on Beckett’s nose. She rose an eyebrow at him.

“She started it.” Beckett frowned defensively.

“Play nice.” Oriana murmured, kissing him on the cheek softly. “Also, do either of you want anything? I planned on ordering some food.”

“Anything you want.” He responded immediately.

“I will never say no to food.” Diana chimed in, peeking out of the room.

Oriana stared at her blue painted jeans. Diana just shrugged. “He started it.”

“You two are the kids I never needed. Behave or both of you will be kicked out and I’ll do everything myself.” Oriana retorted, shaking her head.

Beckett’s ears were turning red. “Sorry, love. Just painting, got it. You can count on us. We’ll be finished in no time.” Beckett lightly kissed Oriana’s forehead, gently brushing her bump with his hand before letting her go.

After Oriana left downstairs, Beckett and Diana set to work both starting on opposite walls. When Diana was occupied with drawing the contours for a small cloud on the wall, she heard her phone vibrating in her back pocket. She could feel how her heart made a flip and butterflies erupted in her stomach. She glanced at Beckett who was still busy painting his wall in firm concentration. After a moment she finally answered her phone, her heart fluttering and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Dr. Ramsey?” she murmured quietly, when a familiar voice sounded through the speaker. She knew it was him, even though she didn’t know the number.

“Diana…” Ethan spoke, his voice rambling low. “I thought we agreed that you will call me Ethan.”

“Yes of course. I remember agreeing to this,” spoke Diana biting her lower lip trying to hide the smile from Beckett, who was wholeheartedly absorbed in the painting and didn’t seem to notice anything around him. “Also sorry for not returning your call yesterday. It was quite late when I listened to your voicemail. Also, you didn’t leave your number so…” her voice trailed off and she fell silent, her heart thundering loudly.

“You shouldn’t apologize, I really shouldn’t call you so late…,” Ethan sighed, thinking of all the things he shouldn’t be doing or shouldn’t be dreaming of doing with this incredible girl. Diana smiled, hearing how his voice trembled slightly, imagining him raking his hand through his hair nervously before speaking again. “I just felt like I should check on you and make sure you are okay.”

“I’m feeling much better. Thanks to you. I’m very sorry you saw me like that.”

“I’m really glad that you’re feeling better. I was….” His voice dropped an octave lower and the next words made her eyes widen from the confession. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” She whispered hoarsely, her throat dried out.

“Because I…” Diana could hear how Ethan took a deep breath, feeling how her heart fluttered in anticipation, waiting for what he would say.

“Di, if you finished with your side of the wall. Can you draw clouds on this part and… do you think it’d be okay to also draw Staff of Asclepius where the baby’s crib will be?”

Ethan literally stopped breathing when he heard Beckett’s voice through the speaker. She’s pregnant???

“Ethan?” Diana called, breaking through his thoughts. She could see Beckett watching her, raising his eyebrow questioningly. The uncomfortable silence from the phone was practically deafening to Diana.

Finally, Ethan cleared his throat and his voice flowed through the speaker again. “I was simply worried because I’m your attendee and you are my intern. You need to be at the top of your game, always.”

Ethan was kicking himself for lying, but what else could he do? He shut his eyes briefly, hoping that she won’t hear the truth in his voice. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he continued. “So, as I said yesterday, Tommy’s blood test results are ready. If you have time to go through them with me?” asked Ethan in a professional voice, absolutely no emotion evident in his tone.

“Okay.” Diana acknowledged.

“There was nothing conclusive. Everything that we tested him for came back as negative. He didn’t ingest anything, touch anything or contract a parasite… Nothing.” Ethan told her.

Diana thought a moment. “Hmmm… can it be that Tommy isn’t sick because of an external cause, but rather an internal one? Something that isn’t new, but perhaps he’s been carrying all along?”

Ethan furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean, a genetic thing? We tested several…”

“No, nothing like this. Remember Tommy’s mother said that two weeks ago he was hospitalized with bacterial pneumonia? And prescribed azithromycin? What if…”

Diana stopped, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully before continuing. “What if the antibiotic did its job a little too well and attacked the good bacteria along the bad one?”

“And this is why he is so sick…Good bacteria started producing toxins as a defense, and that’s what poisoning Tommy.”

“So, once we kill the strain that started attacking him, his digestion will be fine again.” Diana finished.

“This is brilliant. You are brilliant…” Ethan exclaimed before he was able to stop himself. He inhaled sharply before speaking again. “Thank you, Dr. Haynes. I hope you will find your day enjoyable and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Not waiting for her to say anything, he ended the call.

Ethan sat back in his chair in his office, rubbing the back of his neck. She’s pregnant…how did I not know this? Why has she never said anything? She must not be far along if she’s drinking so much coffee on a daily basis. I’ll need to watch her caffeine intake…wait, no, that’s Beckett’s job…right?

Ethan couldn’t shake the thought that he was missing something. It didn’t make sense that she’d be expecting a child with Beckett, yet flirt with him, touch him every chance she got, look at him with such intensity as though begging him to kiss her.

I’ve got to be missing something…but what?

Back at Beckett and Oriana’s house, Diana frowned at her now dark phone.

“Was that Dr. Ramsey?” Beckett asked hesitantly.

“Yes.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t say goodbye? But congratulations on solving your case.”

Diana shrugged, trying to hide the hurt she was feeling as she placed her phone back in her pocket. “I guess that’s all he needed. And no. Do not paint any medical signs in here, your kid doesn’t need that yet. Or possibly ever.”

She turned her attention back to her fluffy white cloud, signalling she didn’t want to talk about it any further. Ethan Ramsey is nothing if not confusing.

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