#I just expressed that I was grateful cuz I’m finally like on a path towards something with my life cuz it’s been like 3-4 years with her

[reamed]

started crying at the end of therapy I’m so cringe

[because-of-a-friend]

Enemies to Lovers!Jeonghan

MASTERLIST

One day I will come up with titles for my works lol. 

Hi Hannah!!!! Thanks for requesting! I loved doing this one! I went ahead and went with Jeonghan cuz I feel like he fits this trope best! Sorry you had to wait so long, this particular fic got deleted like... three times so it was a struggle lol. I hope it’s what you were looking for!

I hope this is a good one, I’m realizing I get real insecure about my writing anytime I’m not doing a bulletpoint or reaction fic, so I don’t feel great about this time. Also I only started recently putting actual detail into my kiss scenes and idk how I’m doing with those???? Like do they seem ok??? Also I feel like I make it so obvious that I am such a sucker for SVT having cute nicknames for siblings, friends, partners, etc in fics lol. Anyways...

Also, I really said: Jeonghan... but in different types of lighting

Remember I don’t own the gif! Link to OP is right there if you want to go give the creator some love!!!

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions eating, reader is using female pronouns (I will keep things gn unless you request differently), I think that’s it, pls let me know if I missed any

You’re not sure exactly how it happened. It was probably just an instance of getting off on the wrong foot, that led to more awkward interactions, giving both of you the wrong impression of each other. You knew this, you could rationalize it all. You were well aware that all it would take was one “I think we might have the wrong idea of each other” conversation and it would all be over. You could easily fix it all, but…

But his stupid smug face. The sarcastic jokes. The never-ending pranks that were not as funny as he thought they were. His ridiculous arrogance. His overall unapologetic nature towards all of it.

You couldn’t help but hate Yoon Jeonghan.

*****

“I don’t know, Wonnie…” you say uneasily over the phone. In previous years, you’d go over to the dorm without hesitation. You loved spending time with your brother and many of the other boys. But ever since you had officially met and begun interacting with Jeonghan…

“C’mon, [Y/N]! I bought that new game you were talking about! We can play it together on my gaming system!” Wonwoo began to persuade. You knew you’d give in; you always did. Your brother was far too sweet a person and far too comforting a presence to reject. The question was how long did you want to argue with him about going to the dorm.

You sighed, accepting defeat early to save time, “I’ll head over there in a bit.”

Wonwoo gives a small cry of victory, “Ok, I’ll have Gyu make extra ramen.” Wonwoo abruptly hangs up the phone right after, leaving you in silence to groan in regret of your decision.

You immediately straighten yourself out, though, trying to put yourself in a mindset of determination. What were you thinking? Just because you and that asshole didn’t get along meant you couldn’t go see your own twin brother without feeling uncomfortable? Screw that! If he wanted to keep the peace then he was going to have to start watching where he stepped around you. 

*****

You knocked loud and clear on the door of their dorm, knowing that with thirteen people living inside, it was usually too noisy for them to hear someone signal their arrival. To your relief, Seungcheol opened the door just moments after you knocked and greeted you with a warm smile followed by a hand sneaking into your hair to ruffle it, “Hey there, kiddo! How’s it hanging?”

“Just fine,” you tilt your head down slightly in his direction as you pass him to enter the dorm. “How are things here?” As soon as you ask, your ears are met with the noise of someone dropping something in the kitchen, followed by Seungkwan crying in alarm.

“Same as always, I supposed,” Seungcheol sighs, but his smile doesn’t fade. “I think Mingyu and Wonwoo are already in the computer room, if you want to go ahead and see them!”

“Ok, thanks Cheol!” you call as you both rush off in different directions, him towards the kitchen and you towards the small room that would provide you solace from the possibility of having to see Yoon Jeonghan.

You were determined not to let things go how they usually did: you with your mouth clamped shut as Jeonghan spoke whatever teasing words he had saved up for you, and the most you can do to fight back is by rolling your eyes and finding any way to get away from him.

This time, you would still avoid contact with him, but if it happened, you’d speak your mind and not care what he thought, since that’s how he treated you.

But there was no sign of him or anyone else as you walked to the computer room. You could hear Mingyu and Wonwoo yelling and cheering at the game long before you opened the door. It was pitch black inside, the piercing light of the screen making you squint your eyes.

The two men inside both turn immediately to check who offended their dark space with the soft, yellow light from the hallway.

“Oh [Y/N], you came!” Mingyu beams up at you. You nod, matching his bright expression.

“How’s the game?” you ask simply, looking up to your brother.

“We like it so far,” Wonwoo’s smile is wide, he always gets excited about new games, whether they’re good or not. He leans over to grab a can of some sort of energy drink before gulping it down. “We left some ramen for you over there on the table. Eat first, then I’ll let you have a turn.”

You roll your eyes, though Wonwoo was only mere minutes older than you, he found those moments to be enough leverage to order you around and act like you should be dependent on his care. There were times when he even referred to himself as “oppa” to you and insisted that you do the same.

Most of the time you let it slide, especially when you weren’t in the mood to argue. However, there were times when you’d pull out the “We’re the same age,” “Even if you’re older, I’m smarter,” or “Don’t boss me around when I’m more mature than you” cards at the drop of a hat.

“Can you at least turn on the LEDs while I eat?” you ask, tip-toeing in the darkness towards the table at the back end of the room. You hear a click before a soft blue glow fills the room, finally giving you a clear view of your path. You pull the bowl of ramen towards you as you sit and resist the urge to comment on how little they left you. The dorm was filled with food anyways, you could find more later if you got hungry again.

Wonwoo and Mingyu begin to eagerly tell you what they like about the game as you eat. You listen happily, feeling safe in the presence of your brother and friend.

Then of course…

“Hey you two, Cheol wanted me to remind you that we have to get up early tomorrow,” you can’t help the sour expression that comes over your face as Jeonghan enters the room to speak to Wonwoo and Mingyu. “Oh, hey there cutie, I didn’t know you were here!” His smirk makes you sick.

“Don’t call me that,” you say bitterly into the nearly empty bowl.

Wonwoo looks nervously between you and his bandmate, well aware of the dislike you have for him. He’s grateful that you’ve always kept it so civil, but still feels bothered by the unrest between you.

Jeonghan lets out a little giggle in response, and Wonwoo feels a tug in the pit of his stomach, he wishes Jeonghan wouldn’t be so hard on you sometimes. He knows his hyung doesn’t mean anything by it, but you…

You feel your heart sink as Jeonghan steps fully into the room, striding to sit across from you at the table. You can only stare in wonder at his audacity as he slides the bowl towards himself and finishes off the ramen in one bite.

“I was eating that,” you try to keep your tone measured, attempting to keep within the balance of standing up for yourself but not starting any drama that would affect the boys.

“Go make more if you’re hungry, then,” Jeonghan says casually, making your anger positively flare.

You don’t even give your brother the chance to mediate, jumping up from your place and leaving the room, wanting to be anywhere but around that prick.

*****

“You’re leaving already?” Mingyu pouts at you.

“Gyu, I’ve been here for hours,” you laugh, stretching out your fingers as they start to prick from pain of slamming into a keyboard for so long. You had returned to the computer room but only after Jeonghan left. Part of you had wished you had done more to confront him; another part was glad you didn’t start a fight and put Wonwoo in an awkward position. “Besides all of you, as well as me have to get up early tomorrow, it’s already late. I need to get back home.”

“You can stay here,” Wonwoo was quick to offer.

You shook your head at him, “Then I’ll just have to get up even earlier, I’ll go back to my place.” Wonwoo nods almost reluctantly, standing to walk you out.

All of you run into Joshua on your way to the front door, he turns out to be the only one smart enough to ask how you got there.

“Oh, I took the bus,” you say slowly, knowing this is about to cause issues.

“Well, the last one would have already stopped running by now,” Mingyu says looking at the time on his phone.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Josh offers immediately.

You bring your hands up to shake them back and forth, “No, no, I can find a way home, you all need to go to bed.”

“[Y/N],” Wonwoo speaks up immediately in that stern voice you hate but also can’t help but listen to, “let Josh take you home. It’s either that or you stay here, I won’t have you walking around alone at night.” Wonwoo waits a moment to gauge your expression. He finally nods affirmatively, before speaking directly to Joshua, “Take her home, please.”

Joshua nods before walking off to grab his keys. You and Wonwoo send Mingyu off to bed. Once you’re alone, your brother pulls you in for a tight hug. “Do you want me to say something to him?” he asks lowly.

You shake your head, “I don’t want to cause any problems with you guys.” You sit in silence for a moment. “Come and stay over with me sometime, I miss our sleepovers.”

Joshua comes back and Wonwoo pulls away, “Thanks, hyung. Please get her home safe.” For the second time that night, your hair gets ruffled before your brother disappears to go off to bed.

The ride home with Joshua is comfortable. He speaks kindly to you and makes you smile.

You begin to wonder how amongst all these angels, there exists a person like Yoon Jeonghan.

*****

Wonwoo used the new game as leverage to guilt you into coming over quite often in the following weeks. You hadn’t realized how much you had limited your time at the dorm until you started going consistently once more. It was nice being able to spend time with the boys again. You hated that Jeonghan had become such an unbearable presence that it affected your relationship with the rest of your friends.

But ever since you had started to stand your ground and talk back, he had finally begun to avoid you. You supposed it was only fun for him when you sat there and took it.

It didn’t stop the two of you from bickering when you saw each other, but now both of you preferred to avoid each other instead of Jeonghan seeking you out to tease you.

The following weeks of visiting were fairly comfortable. Whenever Jeonghan wasn’t around, you got to spend plenty of time with the other boys and your brother. Plus, the new video game was even better than expected.

Jeonghan’s presence slowly became uncomfortable in a different way.

Instead of being smug and overbearing, he became strangely quiet around you. His facial expressions became more serious as he sent genuine glares your way before letting out bitter remarks and going on his way.

It made you even angrier.

Who the hell was he to torture you all this time and then act like a kicked puppy when you finally fought back???

Your anger and his bitterness slowly escalated the tension between you two. Although they were happening less frequently, the arguments between you became more serious and almost hurtful.

Whatever, you told yourself, he could do as he pleased, you wouldn’t let it affect you anymore.

*****

You stared down at your phone screen. Why? Why did it have to be here, while you were at the dorm?

The call was only five minutes. They didn’t even do it in person. Of course, they had warned that because of hard times, there’d be lay-offs soon. But they couldn’t even do it in person? And all you got was a simple “Sorry, come collect your things on Monday”??? You were a hard worker, passionate about the job, more efficient than most of your coworkers and this is how they treated you???

A part of you could’ve guessed, many of the employees your age had gotten in because of nepotism. But you didn’t want to believe that they’d just brush off all your years of hard work just to avoid stepping on the toes of higher-ups who had relative connections hired at the company.

You squatted against the wall of the hallway, still too in shock to move.

So, you simply sat in silence, for what seemed like forever.

“You good?” you had never felt worse than the exact moment his voice reached your ears.

“Go away,” you said sternly, knowing you’d be crying soon.

“Geez, forgive me for asking,” Jeonghan responds before turning to walk away. He stops abruptly after you sniffle. “So, you’re not ok?”

“No offense, Jeonghan,” you say hating the way your voice is shaking, “but you are the last person I want to speak to right now.”

There’s a heavy silence for a long moment. You silently pray that he’ll just leave. “Do you want me to get your brother?” he asks lightly.

You shake your head, “No, I don’t want to ruin the mood. I’m going to go home, just tell him I had a stomach ache.” You push yourself up and begin to walk briskly towards the door.

To your surprise, Jeonghan reaches out to stop you. You stare at his hand wrapped around your arm and wonder if you’ve ever even allowed him to touch you before. “It’s already late, let me give you a ride.”

You pull his hand off of you, “No, thanks.” You grab your coat and start to dig around in your purse to make sure you have all of your belongings.

“[Y/N],” Jeonghan’s voice rings clear in your head despite your brain feeling fuzzy. You don’t want to look at him. Who is this person that’s showing concern and speaking kindly? You don’t like it. It feels fake. It feels like a predator playing with a wounded prey. You’re just waiting for him to laugh or make a remark or do anything to make you feel worse than you already do.

But Jeonghan simply grabs the keys laying on the front table, grabs your arm once more, and leads you out to the car.

*****

The ride is suffocatingly silent. You wished he’d at least turn on some music to cover up the sound of your crying, but you remained in the quiet. You rolled down your window and stuck your head out, letting the warm night air and sound of wind comfort you. Since you were turned away from him completely, you didn’t see Jeonghan glancing over at you throughout the drive.

You couldn’t have left that car faster when you finally pulled up to your apartment.

To your dismay, Jeonghan also gets out, apparently intent on walking you up.

“You don’t have to-” you start but abruptly stop when he gives you a look telling you an emotion you don’t quite understand.

Jeonghan finally speaks when you’re riding the elevator up to your floor, “I don’t really mean it, you know.”

“Mean what?” you say weakly, starting to feel the exhaustion from crying so much.

“When I talk to you like that… I mean when I’m… rude,” he trails off, running a hand through his hair. “Usually it’s just teasing, but obviously I went too far with you. And I didn’t realize it until you started showing how upsetting it was for you. I should’ve known before that, though.”

“You seemed ruder after I started talking back,” you say, confused.  

“I was just being petty and defensive. I kept telling myself things like: It’s her fault, isn’t it? She should have made it more clear from the beginning that it was upsetting her. How was I supposed to know? But that was just me being immature, I should’ve just talked to you.”

“Is that an… apology, Yoon Jeonghan?” you ask, letting yourself be a little smug.

For the first time, you get a genuine smile out of him, “Maybe.”

There’s more silence for a second.

“It’s a two-way road, though,” you say finally.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I mean, I could have also come and talked to you instead of letting things escalate,” you say. “I played some part in all of this… unpleasantness. You can’t entirely blame yourself.”

Jeonghan smiles again, reaching out to ruffle your hair the way Seungcheol always did. Then he takes a dramatic deep breath and rolls his shoulders, “There! That feels better, doesn’t it? We can finally be friends!”

You roll your eyes in a playful manner, but you feel it too, a weight has been lifted.

*****

Wonwoo showed up at your door in the middle of the night that night. You took one look at his frantic face and groaned, “I told Jeonghan I would tell you myself.”

“You should have told me immediately!” your brother pouts as he passes you to walk into your apartment.

“I didn’t want to worry you so late, especially when all of you were having a good time. I was going to tell you tomorrow,” you close the door behind him. You watch as he turns on the TV and starts picking through your pantry. “Hmmm, yes it seems quite clear that you came here out of concern for me,” you can’t help but use a sarcastic tone.

Wonwoo sends a glare your way as he grabs snacks and settles on the couch. You sit next to him, grabbing your fair share of the food. You try to keep your attention on the show, but the feeling of Wonwoo staring straight at you is distracting.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry,” you sigh.

“Really? Because Jeonghan described you as an emotional wreck,” your brother scoffs.

“I was just shocked and upset. I’ll be ok. I have a good resume, I can find a new job,” you insist.

“I keep telling you, you don’t have to work-”

“I don’t care how much you make,” you interrupt. “I’m not going to depend on you. It’ll just make trouble for both of us.”

“Will you at least let me help out if there’s any problems before you find a new job?” Wonwoo kicks at your leg.

“Like I would even tell you if I was having trouble,” you return his kick.

“You just can’t help but be difficult,” your brother complains quietly.

You let the sound of the show take over the room for a few minutes. “I do have good news,” you finally speak up, wanting to give your brother some peace of mind about something. “Me and Jeonghan made up. We figured it out.”

Wonwoo bolts upright with a grin on his face, “Really??? It’s really all good now?”

“100%,” you say, unable to stop yourself from pinching your brother’s cheeks, finding his excited expression cute.

“Let’s celebrate soon then! We can have a big gaming party with all of the boys!” You agree to your brother’s proposal. You feel content in this moment, knowing you’ll wake up in the morning in an uncomfortable position, immediately kick at his legs and tell him to get his stinky feet away from you.

*****

Your time at the dorm increases with the weight of you and Jeonghan’s rivalry being gone. You’re enjoying getting to know him as a friend instead of constantly walking on eggshells around him. Going to visit the boys is once again a happy and comfortable experience.

You hadn’t realized how much Jeonghan had affected you until you two had worked things out. The world felt light again and you could breathe, no longer in constant worry of possibly ruining things between your brother and his bandmates.

You hoped things would remain without complications for a long time.

*****

“Seungkwan, you should come with us!” you begged. “The carnival only comes once a year; you can’t miss it!”

“But it’s so crowded and there are screaming kids everywhere,” Seungkwan complains.

“Oh, whatever,” Soonyoung interjects. “You love it every time we go.”

Seungkwan gives Soonyoung a look that has you laughing through your mouthful of ramen. “Oh, shoot,” you say feeling liquid start to dribble down your chin. “Can I get a napkin?”

“Here’s one,” you hear Jeonghan’s voice as he enters the room. You reach out to grab the napkin as Seungkwan and Soonyoung continue bickering. But instead of handing it to you, Jeonghan extends his hand not holding the napkin towards you. His fingers come to lightly touch your chin and turn you towards him. Jeonghan wipes your face with the napkin himself, taking the time to make sure it’s really all clean. “All better,” he smiles at you, running his thumb across your chin to check its cleanliness one last time.

As Jeonghan walks away, you turn to see if Seungkwan or Soonyoung saw what had happened. They were still arguing, though. The boys showing you physical touch or affection wasn’t really all that uncommon. But for some reason, the way Jeonghan had grabbed your chin just now… Why was your heart beating so hard?

*****

You couldn’t stop yourself from dragging Wonwoo all over the carnival. It was nice to get out in this environment, the lights, the laughter, the food, the games, the rides. You wanted to do everything, but not before you looked at all there was and took in the spectacle.

You could hear all the boys laughing excitedly behind you, you knew they’d want to try everything as well. You shook your head at Seungkwan’s bright expression, you couldn’t wait to play the ‘I told you so’ card later.

The night was a blur. All of you ran from games to rides to snacks and then all over again.

You couldn’t help but stop completely in your tracks as you passed a booth with a giant stuffie of your favorite animal as a prize. Your fascination with the plushie doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You want me to win it for you?” Jeonghan’s voice is suddenly speaking right into your ear. You jump after realizing he was right behind you. You grip your cotton candy a bit tighter and shyly nod. The way Jeonghan grins at you fills you with warmth.

You watch him walk over to the booth. His light hair and pink shirt were illuminated by the soft glow of the surrounding lights. Jeonghan takes his wallet out and hands some bills to the vendor. You step up closer to stand next to him as he plays the game. He laughs as he chats back and forth with the vendor. You watch in awe as Jeonghan clears the game, no problem.

“Anything from the top shelf!” the vendor exclaims happily.

“That one please,” Jeonghan points right at the stuffie you had been staring at.

“It’ll be a wonderful memory for your girlfriend,” the vendor smiles as he hands the prize directly to you.

“Oh, I’m-”

“Of course!” Jeonghan interrupts you almost instantly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and starting to pull you away from the game. “We’ll cherish it for a long time! Thanks for the game!” The vendor waves kindly as you two walk away. After a moment, Jeonghan pulls his arm off of you, “Sorry, sometimes it’s just easier to agree than explain, you know?” You nod in agreement. “Wait a second,” he stops you by putting his hands on your shoulders and standing in front of you. Before you can ask what’s wrong, his hand comes up towards your face as it had earlier that day. He quickly swipes his thumb across your lips before pulling to back to show you remnants of your cotton candy. “Do you always eat this messily?” he grins and then, to your surprise, puts his thumb in his mouth to clean it off.

You stand there, frozen, unable to really comprehend what just happened as Jeonghan walks away towards the other boys.

“For the second time today?” Soonyoung is suddenly standing next to you.

“So you did see what happened earlier!” you exclaimed, hitting his arm lightly. “It was weird, right?!”

“Can’t tell yet,” Soonyoung replies cocking his head to the side and putting his hands in his pocket. “Sometimes Jeonghan is just sort of naturally flirtatious. But I’m not sure about you. I figured since you two didn’t get along at first, it’d take him awhile to warm up to you at that level. He seemed to get comfortable with you quite quickly.” Soonyoung turns and shrugs at you after his words.

“You’re no help at all,” you say emotionlessly. There’s a pause before both you and Soonyoung slowly look at each other and laugh at your quip.

You decide to brush off your new concerns about Jeonghan and enjoy this night with the boys. The vendor was right, it was a good memory, and you’re sure it’d last you for your whole lifetime.

*****

You hate yourself a bit for it, but you once again seem to be avoiding Jeonghan. He had made you so nervous that day, and the way your heart pounded… You didn’t want to get sucked into having a silly crush on him if he wasn’t actually trying to flirt with you.

No, from now on, interactions with Jeonghan would be friendly but short and appropriate.

You were stupid to think he wouldn’t notice.

It wasn’t long before there came a night when Jeonghan insisted that he be the one to give you a ride home. You couldn’t help the way your nerves spiked at his determination to be the one to take you. You knew he most likely wanted to talk to you about your sudden distance from him.

The ride itself was nice, Jeonghan rolled the windows down for you, remembering that you enjoyed the warm night air of summer. You talked comfortably with one another. Jeonghan was always able to make you smile so easily.

You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him. He was just wearing a t-shirt and sweats but… His blonde hair being illuminated in the moonlight as he ran his hands through it and his bright smile as he laughed...

He really was beautiful.

Once again, Jeonghan came with you to walk you to your door. And once again, he finally spoke up in the elevator, “You’ve been avoiding me, sweetheart.” Your heart drops to your stomach at the nickname. “Is everything ok? Did I do something to make you mad again?”

You quickly shake your head and pull your hands up to shake them as well, “No! Not at all!”

“You sure?” he insists.

“Yoon Jeonghan, you really don’t think I’d tell you if you did?” you say.

He giggles, “Yeah, that’s true. You’d let me know the moment I messed up, wouldn’t you?” The elevator dings and opens up to your floor. You and Jeonghan step out together. “Is everything else ok, then? You don’t start avoiding people for no reason.”

You nod as casually as possible, “Everything is great.” Your tone isn’t convincing and Jeonghan nudges you. “I guess, I just got… nervous? I mean one moment we were like enemies and then the next we were suddenly really… close, and-”

“I made you uncomfortable?” Jeonghan’s voice is slightly panicked.

“No, you did nothing wrong! It’s all on me, I just got caught up in my emotions and-” you stop abruptly when you realize what you were about to do.

Jeonghan nods quietly as if to say he understands, but what it is he understands, you’re not sure. “Is it ok for us to remain close, or do you want me to back off?”

“I don’t want any more distance between us, but…” you trail off.

“But, what?” he prompts you again.

“I don’t want to get the wrong idea about anything…” you say, finally reaching your door.

Jeonghan watches as you slowly unlock your door and push it open, “You haven’t gotten the wrong idea about anything.” He avoids eye contact when you look up at him.

You’re shocked by his forwardness. But once he voices his thoughts out loud, you once again feel the feeling of a weight being lifted.

Jeonghan gestures for you to step inside, catching your arm once you fully pass him. He pulls you back to him, close enough for him to lean in and leave a quick kiss on your cheek, “Night, babe, I’ll see you later.”

You stand there, completely still, staring at your door that had shut closed in front of you. You can feel heat rise from the tip of your toes all the way up to your ears. You finally let yourself fall into a squatting position, covering your face with your hands, and letting out a squeal.

*****

Jeonghan invites you to meet up outside of the dorm. It’s a cute little coffee shop at a quiet part of the city. You’re already sitting when he walks in. Maybe one day, you won’t be completely caught off guard by his beauty… but today is not that day.

His whole person is bathed in the glow of the early morning light as he approaches you, the softest, most genuine smile gracing his face.

“No, don’t get up,” he says when you try to leave your chair, “I need to go off and order anyways.” Jeonghan leans down to kiss your forehead firmly. “I just wanted to come say hi first,” he whispers, holding your face close to his.

Your first date sets a wonderful precedent to the rest of your relationship. Jeonghan gets your heart racing with flirty comments and sweet touches. But he also makes you feel calm and content, easily keeping a smile on your face. You just feel… good throughout it all.

You insist on walking him back to the dorm, since they had schedules that day.

“So, we’ll be doing this again?” Jeonghan asks hopefully, as you reach the front door.

“Definitely,” you nod enthusiastically up at him, wondering how you had ever managed to despise the man that made you feel so whole and happy.

Jeonghan looks utterly happy and a tiny bit nervous as he stares down at you. His hand reaches up to brush back your hair before settling firmly against your face. Jeonghan looks at you so fondly as he leans in. His lips connect to yours… so softly… so sweetly. You can feel his nose nudge against your face to push it into a preferred position. He pulls back slightly after every little kiss to let out laughter so sweet, it sounds like it should be coming from the mouth of an angel. But he’s never far away for long, reconnecting to you quickly every time. You let him take the lead, allowing his lips to take care of yours, giving them the sweetest kind of attention. He pulls back for a moment longer to nuzzle his nose against yours, an action that has you gripping his shirt to keep him close. His hands keep themselves entertained by running across your face or through your hair.

He’s going back in to kiss you once again when he front door of the dorm opens, leaving you caught in the act. Wonwoo stares at you two for a long moment before making a single comment that causes you and Jeonghan to laugh.

“You know, when I said I wanted you two to have a better relationship, this isn’t exactly what I meant.”

[fuck-bowers]

the wrong path (colin ritman x reader) chapter one

(A/N: is the hiatus over ?? who knows. I’m a mess and dumb and I’m lazy. but i cranked this out from sheer love for will poulter and his bleach blonde hair and those trendy glasses he wears. and for you guys. I hope you enjoy!! comment and like!! they make my day!! if you end up wanting a chapter two, let me know, cuz i think it’s gonna start getting meta af in here)

summary: there’s two paths, or so colin ritman tells you - the right path, in which you meet stefan butler at tuckersoft and subsequently start dating - and the wrong path, in which you fall in love with colin instead. you’re not convinced the wrong path is all that wrong.

taglist: @sighsophiia @cake-full-of-fist

“You’re not supposed to be doing this.”

Your hands roamed hungrily over Colin Ritman’s chest, searching for shirt buttons with your eyes closed and your lips forming paths of kisses up his neck and towards his jaw. The words he’d mumbled sounded merely like background noise. In the air hung the smell of weed smoke and incense, mingling lightly with the scent of Colin: a warm and deep cologne with natural undertones that instantly reminded you of him each time you smelled it.

You pressed your lips quickly onto his, forgetting he ever said a word.

He kissed you back gently yet urgently before pushing you off, leaving you straddling his lap, hands on his shoulders, clad in only a bra and underwear.

“What?” You softly questioned, adjusting your hips against his, pressing your chest against his once more, sliding your arms around his neck.

“I’ve realized it. You’re not supposed to be doing this. This isn’t the right path.” He breathlessly announced.

His words were confusing enough to keep you from leaning in and silencing him with a kiss, at least momentarily. You stared at him through tousled hair, which you brushed back, sitting up.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

His hands nonetheless roved from your hips up to your waist, caressing you with a muted desire.

“You’re not supposed to be with me. You’re supposed to be with Stefan. I can’t have you.” His words were straightforward, barely a tinge of melancholy to signify his disapproval. He was avoiding direct eye contact.

You immediately giggled. The shy little newbie? He was sweet, but how could he ever shine a candle to Colin?

“Some joke, Colin. You’re so weird.”

He seemed lost, staring through you, deep in thought. “I thought it was his dad, bugging the shit out of him and all, or the pressure of the deadline, but no. It has to be you. Since we got involved, he never had the chance to ask you out. His morale is out of whack, all cuz of me. I made him lovesick for you. And because I distract you from your game, even your game tanks...”

The weed you’d smoked numbed half his words, until you took a moment to decipher his ranting. You took his face gently in your hands. Colin stared back at you, and you could finally sense some dejection behind his eyes.

“Colin, there’s no one else I’d rather be with. I…”

You hadn’t said you loved him yet, and at this rate, you weren’t sure you would.

He blinked twice. “You’ll see what I mean. You’re on the wrong path.”

Deciding this was some of his classic paranoid-on-drugs speak, wanting to pretend you made the past few minutes up, you tentatively ground your hips against his, resulting in an involuntary moan from his throat that only drove you more crazy for him. You grabbed the back of his neck, your hot breath tickling his ear.

“Babe, if loving you is wrong, I don’t wanna be-”

“Oh, don’t be a clown.”

You kissed him again, and this time he reciprocated, mouth moving hard against yours, and he flipped you onto the couch, climbing on top of you, pulling his shirt off in the process. He took off his glasses, throwing them onto the coffee table.

“There’s a chance I’m wrong, but if I’m not-”

“Oh, piss off.” You laughed before kissing him once more, and this time he unbuttoned and started slipping off his Levis, unsuccessfully, to the point where he leaned so far to one side that the two of you spun and tumbled off the couch, the laughter bubbling from your throat the final sound that hung in the air before suddenly waking up in bed, sitting up with wide and tired eyes.

New Order was playing on the radio, the means of a daily alarm.

It was as if you’d just woken out of an odd dream, with that groggy morning feeling, paired with the slowness that typically accompanied it.

You turned to look at the clock beside you. It was eight o’clock in the morning.

What happened?

“This is Colin Ritman. He’s a bit of a celebrity in the gaming world, you may have heard of him.”

You had heard the name before; somewhere in the depths of past memories his name conjured up the ring of a bell, yet nothing more. Looking into his face, you very vaguely recognized him - merely examining the smile before you, the dark blue eyes, the bleach-blonde hair all coming together into one handsome stranger - you knew, somehow, that he couldn’t be a stranger at all.

You felt you had to know him, especially if he was so famous. You were always playing video games.

“Hello.” You said, an instant yet nervous response.

“Very nice to meet you.” He said, in an accent reminiscent of boys at school and old neighbor kids. The voice was recognizable. You’ve heard it somewhere before.

“Have we… Met before?” You coyly questioned, wondering if he’d possibly understand. You felt awfully dumb asking, knowing he’d probably say no. If you were lucky, he’d bring up some obvious encounter that you’d somehow lost over time; sharing a high school calculus class, having some old mutual friend, maybe even frequenting the same restaurant or cafe.

“I don’t believe so. I’d certainly remember meeting you.” He replied, flirtatious words undermined by a monotone voice, grabbing your extended hand and holding it momentarily before beginning to shake it. You grabbed back, feeling flushed out of nowhere.

You just couldn’t place where you’d seen him - but felt you couldn’t stir on it for too long. You had a few games you’d been working on, one particularly promising. You and Mr. Thakur had been discussing it for weeks after you’d sent in an application, and apparently he’d already spoke to Colin before your arrival for the interview.

You tried to read Colin’s face, try to dissect his expression, but it seemed impossible. The smile he wore was now a near grimace as he turned away from you, sucking on some sort of blunt - homemade cigarette perhaps? You weren’t sure.

“Y/N created Time Swipe, that game I was telling you about at lunch. You have it with you?” Mahon asked, looking enthusiastic.

“Yeah.” You were jolted from your mess of thoughts about Colin, quickly rummaging through your bag to find the cartridge. Fishing it out, you handed it to Mahon with a smile.

“I really hope you guys like it. Took me eons.”

Mahon chuckled almost nervously. Colin looked totally unbothered. Even his stature you could hazily recognize, as if he’d stood beside you with his hands in his pockets just as cooly before.

“So we still need the score behind it, yeah? Is it completed on the visual front?” Mahon enthusiastically asked.

You thought back to all the hard work you’d put into it, the grating hours behind a computer, the time spent forgetting to eat or sleep for days on end.

“Should be. I’ve tied up all the loose ends, flattened out the glitches. I’ve run the finished product about fifty times now without any problems, it should be perfect.”

“Forty times?” Mohan asked under his breath, in somewhat disbelief. Colin was still turned towards you, and you could feel his stare boring into you.

“Forty-eight.” Colin added, in his sharp accent. Your eyes met his immediately.

“What?”

“You could round it up to fifty times, having booted it up forty-eight. It sounds better, anyway.”

Heat surrounded your face and stained your cheeks as you looked down in thought. It had been forty-eight startups, hadn’t it? A part of you was so tired and annoyed after launching the game so many times, essentially obsessively - that you’d lost count.

Was it somewhere printed on the screen how many times it’d been used?

How could he know?

“How…” You began, but Mohan continued speaking, leaving a soon-fleeting stare Colin’s only response.

“I’ve loved the idea since you first mentioned it, it’s very marketable.” Mohan pushed the game inside the VCR, and the three of you surrounded the screen as the intro flashed to life - Time Switch was glowing in bright neon letters, with a monochromatic grid background. There it was: your pride and joy. However badly that intro made you want to puke just days ago, it appeared new and fresh staring back at you now.

Mohan pressed the start button without a word, and despite needing to restart multiple times after losing lives, he was completely immersed, laughing to himself or groaning sadly with every little success or failure.

“What say you, Colin?” He asked, without bothering to turn around, eyes glued to the screen. The little green character continued stealing wall clocks from the cubicles he entered.

Colin shrugged. “It works.”

The answer was somewhat insulting - not that you thought he’d be jumping for joy about it - but something better than ‘it works’. How could your game be that promising when an apparent video game genius didn’t like it?

“It’s wonderful. I knew we had something good going. How would you like to work on a game with Colin, after this is released? You mentioned you have other ideas, and Colin is eager for a partner.”

Working on a project with a big name in the video game world would be an incredible opportunity; much too good to turn down.

However, Colin was certainly some partner.

As you debated how to reply, from the corner of your eye you could see Colin smile and shake his head in possible disapproval, turning to look out the window.

“I’d… I’d love to. Really?” 

“I know Colin’s got some tricks up his sleeve. We have a new sound team, new design team… And a few other plans in mind.

“You wanna work for Tuckersoft?”

You were overwhelmed with excitement. How could you possibly say no?

“Yes!”

Quickly you grabbed his hand, and he maneuvered the shake into a hug, warmly patting you on the back. “Can’t wait to have you here with us, Y/N! You’ll be set up beside Colin, you’ll start work next week. Oh hey, Steven!”

Exiting Mahon’s embrace, you turned to see a brown-haired boy in a tan jacket who must’ve been around your age, bag slung over his shoulder, looking nervously at you through eyes darkened by what you assumed was a lack of sleep.

“Stefan.”

“Stefan, sorry-”

“That’s, sorry, I get it all the time.”

Mohan started ranting at the boy about how proud he was of the company, a spiel you had already listened to, while you couldn’t help but gravitate towards them. Stefan was just as oddly familiar as the rest of the place.

You didn’t listen to a word that Mohan was saying, apart from the random “expanding” and “demo” crossing your mind as you stared. Finally, Mohan addressed you.

“This is Y/N. She’s a newbie, just like you.”

You felt a mix of happiness and discomfort in your heart, just looking at him. Something was drawing you closer, but simultaneously deterring you. You couldn’t keep Colin Ritman or his words out of your head.

“Nice to meet you, Stefan.” You bid.

He looked down before looking back up to meet your gaze, eyes momentarily hesitating at your lips.

“You as well. I’ve never met a female programmer. It’s… it’s really cool that… sorry, that sounds weird…”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he ran a hand anxiously through his hair, a boyish smile growing on his face.

“No, no, don’t worry.” You assured him. “I get that a lot.”

“It’s really cool. Really, really cool.” He looked at you a few seconds too long before blinking and shyly looking down.

“Stefan! Come with me, I wanna talk to you.”

As Mohan pulled him to the side, you felt Colin move closer, smoky exhale surrounding you. 

“Do you remember what I told you?”

You turned to look at him directly, eyebrows furrowed.

“What?”

He took another drag, seemingly unfazed.

“You’ve been here before. Try to remember what I told you.”

Slowly he walked away, entering an adjacent office. You couldn’t help but follow.

“You must be mistaking me for someone, I think...” You continued, suddenly stopped in your tracks by his unexpected closeness - he stood in the doorway, leaning against it, face only inches from you.

“Think back.” He quietly urged, giving you a second round of chills. “I should hope you won’t have to try a third time.”

Suddenly, he shut the door. As it shut, a familiar scent wafted out with the rushed air - a smell so familiar, so warm, so caring, it was clear as day what he meant. 

You must have been here before. You wouldn’t remember him otherwise. Everything wouldn’t be so familiar otherwise. 

Colin knew you. You knew Colin. But how?

You must’ve been lovers. Very, very drunk lovers. For a split second, you vividly imagined the two of you in bed, rolling around, falling on the floor laughing.

“Y/N, you and Stefan have so much to talk about!”

Feeling hazy, lost in thoughts simultaneously generated by the blonde, four-eyed weirdo just beyond the door - you weren’t sure what to say to this boy who apparently had so much to converse with you about.

Mohan gently grabbed your shoulder and turned you to look at the boy, who seemed uneasy once acknowledging your out-of-sorts expression.

“Something wrong, Y/N? It’s just Stefan, he doesn’t bite!”

“No, no, I’m fine. I thought I… Nevermind. You’re working on a new game, too? Bandersnatch, right?”

Mohan laughed, louder than you anticipated.

“Wow! How did you know that? Has he already bragged to you about it?”

Stefan appeared excited, yet confused. “How did you know that?”

He seriously hadn’t mentioned it already?

“Oh, well, I mean, you two were talking about it, weren’t you? Over there?”

Mohan laughed once more. “What a set of ears! Yeah, we were about to demo it. You wanna watch?”

The day continued the way you suspected it would, except mostly without the presence of Colin, which kept your stress levels within a healthy level. You couldn’t stop thinking about what he meant - you did your best to remember exactly what he allegedly told you - but nothing came through.

The next day, Mohan sat you directly beside him, as he clicked away on a computer, busy making his own game, ‘Nosedive’ with wacky spelling - a calling card of his, you supposed.

You didn’t want to interrupt him - Mohan expressed that Colin was a ‘baby’ and would frequently ‘bitch and moan’ if you interrupted him too many times in one day.

He’d have to deal with it.

He’d taken off his headphones for the first time since your arrival to say something to a passing assistant, and as you ran Time Switch for the 78th time, more a chore than a game at this point - you said it.

“We’ve met before. You lied.”

The moment went almost unacknowledged, until Colin cleared his throat.

“I didn’t lie. We met yesterday.”

You didn’t bother turning to look at him.

“No. We met before that. We were in love before that.”

Colin turned to face you, giving you a surprised stare before turning back to look at his screen. He sighed gently, as if dealing with a minor inconvenience.

“Come on.” He said, suddenly standing up and walking away from the monitor. You slowly rose from your seat and followed him into the same adjacent, empty office, where he waited until you’d entered to shut the two of you in.

Colin stared at you, vaguely annoyed.

“You remember that we were in love, but you can’t remember one important thing I told you? You’re just destined to fail, aren’t you?”

You scoffed in shock, yesterday’s waves of confusion washing over you once again.

“So you did love me? And why don’t you just tell me what I’m supposed to remember, rather than being cryptic and creepy?”

Colin scoffed back, leaning back against the door.

“Why don’t I just live your life for you? Y/N, there’s something wrong with the sequence of events here, and the constant within all of this is us being together. That’s the problem. I’ve seen it a few times now. You have to be with Stefan. I’ve invited him to my flat tonight, and I was hoping to invite you, but... I’m not sure you’ll be able to keep your hands off me if you get high.”

With a sarcastic smile, you began giggling to yourself, making him smile and turn away from your attempts to mock him.

“Oh, you don’t think I’ll be able to contain myself? You’re just too sexy, Colin, women can’t keep their fookin’ hands off you!”

Turning back to face you, he grew increasingly serious. “Look, I thought you’d remember what happened, but it makes sense now. It was a decision made for you, to go back. Not your own. From what I can see, your actions are conflicting with your destiny. If it was your own choice, I bet you’d be progressing much faster. You’re being controlled. But from what I gather, you’re not too far gone.”

You stared at the man in front of you, wondering how he seemed to know so much; how you felt so clueless in turn.

“What do you mean, a decision made for me?”

Colin began slowly moving closer to you, and his hesitation made you fear the answer, instinctively backing up towards the desk behind you. You hit the desk after a few more paces, and he only moved nearer once you’d been cornered.

“I know this is confusing for you. No one’s set you free yet. You’ve been controlled your whole life, just like everyone else. You’re in the hole, and you know there must be a way out... You’ve just started testing the limits. But you can’t climb that high on your own. You need me to help you out. Or else, you’re going to be controlled for the rest of your life, never knowing which path is right or wrong.”

Colin was dangerously close to you, and you could sense that old familiar passion in his stare. You could feel his breath, smell his cologne. You wanted so desperately to kiss him, to touch him, to be with him. The eye contact felt unbreakable.

“You can choose your own destiny. Just let me help you do it.” He spoke, in a tone low and genuine.

A moment of silence fell between you, in which you looked down at his chest, slowly mustering up the courage to meet his tender gaze once more before speaking.

“Is this what it looks like when you try to keep a girl from falling in love with you?” You slowly asked, almost unable to finish the sentence, lost in his eyes and in all the confusion.

Something clicked, as if he’d forgot that he was heading down that same wrong path right alongside you.

“Eh… Yeah. Um... Stefan will meet us at my place at six. I’ll walk you there.”

He started walking out of the room before turning around, hand on the doorknob.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You have to be there tonight. It’s important.”

You smiled, crossing your arms, leaning on the desk behind you.

“How could I forget?”

[animationnut]

Uncle Trap: Prologue

Summary: Parent Trap AU. Huey, Dewey and Louie were raised separately, believing that they were only children for twelve years. When fate reunites them at a camp, they realize that they are triplets and that they know very little about their family history. Determined to reunite Donald, Scrooge and Gladstone and make their family whole again, as well as find out what happened to their mother, the triplets decide to switch places. Chapter Rating: T (mild violence and character death) Note: Inspired by @adamarinayu Family Trap AU, which I highly suggest you check out.

                                                    Chapter List

The snowmobiles churned through the mounds of white powder, two black dots against the barren landscape. Donald hunched his body against the wind, wrapping his wings tightly around Della’s waist as she maneuvered their vehicle over the bumpy, treacherous terrain. He squinted through his goggles but all he could see was a swirling mass of white, the back of the snowmobile ahead barely visible.

“This is stupid!” he cried. “Can’t we go back?”

“No way!” exclaimed Della, barely heard above the roaring wind. She turned around to flash him a quick grin. “We’re already this far. Besides, we’ve been searching for this crystal for months and it’s finally within reach!”

“I wouldn’t call an ice cavern deep within Antarctica within reach,” returned Donald, flinching as the snowmobile went airborne for a second, leaping off a slope.

“We’ll be there soon, Donnie! Stop worrying!”

A few feet ahead, Scrooge and Gladstone were leading the way, following the map to the supposed ice cavern that would hold the item they’ve been desiring. Gladstone stared at the worn, frayed piece of parchment, at the black markings and landmarks that were meant to guide them to their target. He glanced up, relieved to finally see three tall rock pillars which formed the shape of a triangle ahead of them.

“That’s it!” he called.

Scrooge slowed the vehicle to a stop near the formation and Della and Donald joined them a few seconds later. They huddled together over the map, the wind rushing past them and rustling the hoods secured to their heads. Squinting at the vertical, frost-covered stones, Donald scowled. “This is the entrance? It’s just a bunch of rocks!”

“Yeah, because we’ve never gone through secret hidden entrances to mystical chambers before,” drawled Gladstone.

“It does nae say how tae access the entrance,” said Scrooge, ducking his chin to keep the wind from slapping his face. “But we’re in the right spot. The snow has been gettin’ stronger the closer we’ve gotten tae this area.”

Della went to inspect the seemingly plain pillars, humming thoughtfully under her breath. “Well…these are in the shape of a triangle. And the crystal is supposed to look a prism, right? So what if…”

She trailed off and gave the pillar closest to her a hard shove. Putting all the strength she had into her wings, the pillar slowly began to budge, tipping forwards bit by bit. Soon the stone was positioned at an angle, where it refused to move further.

Scrooge’s eyes widened and he exclaimed, “Well done lass! Lads, get the others! Form a prism with the stones!”

“Uh, yeah, I don’t do heavy lifting,” said Gladstone, flipping the end of his dark green scarf over his neck. “Come on, Uncle McDunkle, you know this.”

Glaring at him, Scrooge snapped, “If ye do nae want tae help, why do ye always come with us?”

“Excuse me?” said Gladstone, offended. “It was me who got the map in the first place and every other secret key you ever needed to find your magic treasures.”

“By dumb luck,” said Donald sourly. “Like everything you do. Pure dumb luck, no effort involved.”

“Aw, don’t sound so jealous, cuz. It’s not my fault I was born awesome.”

“Stop bickering you two and let’s do this!” shouted Della, excitement building within her at the prospect of solving yet another mystery. Without waiting for her relatives to respond, she raced over to the next pillar.

Donald let out a sigh and went to the last one. Together the twins finished constructing the prism while Gladstone and Scrooge watched. Once the tips of the stones connected, there was a brilliant flash of blue-white light and the ground in the middle the prism started to shake. The ice cracked apart, slowly parting to reveal a set of clear crystal steps, leading to a dark chamber.

Smirking, Gladstone rolled up the map and stuck it inside his winter jacket. “You’re welcome.”

Scrooge removed a flashlight from his pack and started down the steps. Della eagerly followed after him and Gladstone trailed behind her. Donald reluctantly followed after them, peering through the transparent steps. His heart lurched into his throat at the depth of the chamber.

“Boo!”

Donald squawked and jumped. When the flash of fright passed, he sent a glare at Gladstone, who grinned at him. At Della’s giggling, the frazzled duck muttered, “Not funny.”

They reached the bottom of the stairwell and found themselves facing three tunnels to choose from. “It can never be easy, can it?” grumbled Donald, stretching his wings to work the chill from his bones.

“It wouldn’t be much fun if it was,” said Della optimistically.

“Does the map say anythin’ else, lad?” Scrooge directed at Gladstone.

“If it did, I wouldn’t have put it away,” said Gladstone pointedly. “I’m not Double D.”

“Why, you--!”

“Honestly,” sighed Della, snagging her brother by the back of his jacket as he made to lunge at their cousin. “You two always have to bicker.” She paused for a second before admitting, “Though he does have a point.”

Donald sent her an offended expression while Gladstone grinned and slung a wing over her shoulders. “Once again proving you’re my favourite cousin, Dels.”

“Stop foolin’ around,” ordered Scrooge, shooting a quick, reprimanding glare at his niece and nephews. When they settled, he peered intently down each tunnel, though it was useless, as his flashlight barely illuminated much ground ahead of them. “We’ll have tae split up.”

Donald’s loud cry of “No!” was expected, but Gladstone’s sharp, “That’s not a good idea,” was surprising.

Della crossed her wings over her chest, amused. “Nice to see you two agreeing. That certainly doesn’t happen often.”

Donald sent Gladstone a curious glance. His cousin never cared about splitting off to go exploring, because he didn’t have to worry. His supernatural luck was his protection. Bad things rarely happened to Gladstone.

But there was a sudden, stinging sensation in the goose’s gut, and it was ominous and uncomfortable and rather alarming. Gladstone kept his expression cool, not wanting his sudden emotional surge to show. “I just think it would be better if we stuck together. Who knows how long these tunnels go for? Don could get lost.”

“Very funny,” muttered Donald, though he was grateful to have Gladstone on his side.

“Nonsense,” dismissed Scrooge. He rummaged through his pack and came out with three different coloured markers. He handed the green one to Gladstone and the blue one to Donald, keeping the red one for himself. “Mark your path with this.”

Donald reached out and made a quick slash on the smooth, glittering wall. The blue stood out boldly, and didn’t disappear when he rubbed against it. “What about Della?” he asked, not missing her lack of marker.

“I’ll go with Uncle Scrooge,” she offered. “Someone really should be there to reign him in.”

“I do nae think ye are the right one for that job, lassie,” said Scrooge, regarding the girl with a raised brow but unable to keep the affection from his voice.

“Hey, I know my limits! More so than you, anyway.”

“You won’t leave his side?” said Donald suspiciously.

“Promise,” said Della, placing her wing over her heart.

“Relax, lad. I always keep her safe, do I nae?”

“Okay,” said Donald reluctantly, knowing it was useless to argue when the two agreed.

Gladstone hesitated, the twisted knots in his gut only tightening. “I don’t know.”

“Since when are you a Nervous Nellie?” asked Della with a laugh, playfully punching him in the shoulder.

“Ouch! Fine, whatever!” Gladstone threw his arms up and picked a random tunnel, uncapping his marker and making a line on the wall. “We’ll see how generous I am when I find the crystal first!”

“Here we go,” sighed Donald, starting down the middle tunnel.

“Come on, Uncle Scrooge! I’ve got a good feeling about this one!”

Gladstone made his way down his tunnel, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. His marker scratched sloppily against the wall, making a wavy line as he progressed. He paused at a fork in his path and before he went to turn left on instinct, there was a loud buzzing that sent vibrations through the chamber, causing the ceiling to rattle and chunks of ice to be dislodged.

“What the heck?”

Aware that this was a man-made sound and not a force of nature, Gladstone hastily retraced his steps to investigate. As he rounded the corner he came beak-to-nose with a wolf dressed in thick black gear. His webbed foot hit a snag in the floor and Gladstone went down just as the stranger went to punch. His fist cracked against the wall, a sickening crunching sound echoing through the tunnel and he howled in pain.

Gladstone was up and running in a second. He cursed the lack of radio to warn his relatives and kept running. He encountered two more assailants near the entrance to the chamber, but as the pair started towards him they slipped on the ice and clunked heads, immediately falling unconscious.

Gladstone stumbled outside, the roaring snow immediately engulfing him. He cupped his wings around his goggles and looked around frantically, the ground still buzzing beneath his feet, getting more intense by the second. His eyes locked on massive metal drill a distance away from the stone pillars, drilling ruthlessly into the ice.

“No!”

He spun around, about to sprint back into the tunnel, but only found himself falling into the snow as a solid form crashed into him. Donald hastily stood up, eyes locking on the machinery attempting to pierce through the thick layer of ice.

“I’m going to find Della and Uncle Scrooge!” he said, grabbing Gladstone by the wing and helping him to his feet. “You go stop that thing!”

Donald raced back down the steps and Gladstone froze, the cold, bitter wind assaulting from all sides as he struggled to think of his next move. He could stop the machine, there was no doubt about that. But even from his viewpoint he could see the sizable cracks forming, snaking across the surface, and he felt the shaking of the land as it grew increasingly unstable. The ice trembled beneath him and Gladstone knew that a cave-in was inevitable, whether or not he stopped the hostile forces.

His family was out of his protective bubble. If he was above ground while the stability collapsed, he wouldn’t be able to save them.

The sick feeling in his gut only intensifying at the thought, Gladstone ran as fast as he could back into the ice chamber.

“Don! Dels! Uncle Scrooge! Where are you?”

…

Della and Scrooge reached a long, rectangular cavern, where sharp ice spikes covered the floor. At the very end was an intricate pedestal which bore an ornate wooden chest. With a wide grin, Della exclaimed, “That has to be it!”

“We just have tae get over there,” said Scrooge, eyeing the room with a critical eye. “Lass, do ye have your rope?”

“Always.”

Della lifted the item along with a hook out of her pack. With precise movement, she swung the hook to latch onto an outcropping of frost-covered rock jutting out from the ceiling on the other side. She tied her end of the rope to the nearest spike.

Della went first, slowly inching her way down the line. Scrooge was about to follow after her when a shout of, “There they are!” grabbed his attention.

Whipping around, his eyes narrowed at the bulky bulldog and bear storming out of the tunnel towards them. Della started to flip around, intent on helping her uncle, but Scrooge called, “Keep goin’ lass! Ah can spot Glomgold’s goons a mile away. Get that crystal!”

“On it!”

With urgency Della started to crawl along the rope. Wielding his cane, Scrooge dodged the first punch and tripped the bear, who came at him first. While he was on the ground, he raised his cane and whacked him over the head with a strength unexpected for a duck his age, rendering him unconscious. The second goon grabbed him from behind, but Scrooge wrenched his body downwards, forcing his attacker to flip over him and land head-first on the hard ground, cracking his skull.

“Uncle Scrooge! Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine!” answered Scrooge, taking a quick glance to see how his niece was faring. She was more than halfway towards the chest. With a furrowed brow he poked at the still bulldog lying at his feet. “Though Ah must say, Ah’ve never known Flinty to be so…lackluster in his plans tae thwart me.”

There was a sudden shaking as the cavern began to tremble. Scrooge jumped backwards as large cracks appeared in the ceiling, leaking in sunlight from above. Chunks of ice began to fall, shattering the spikes beneath into mere splinters. Holes began to open up in the floor, revealing an inky black depth, where Scrooge could distantly hear the sound of rushing water.

“Della!”

“I see it, Uncle Scrooge! I’m almost there!”

Focussed on the treasure within her grasp, Della strained for it. She yelped as a rock narrowly missed striking her in the head. Heart in throat, she forced her limbs to stop shaking and reached for the chest once more.

“Della, come back at once!” ordered Scrooge, terror beginning to rise as the ice ceiling above Della started to split apart.

It was then Donald appeared, stumbling to halt next to Scrooge, breathing heavily. He caught sight of his sister and he screamed, “Della! What the heck are you doing? We need to get out of here!”

“We’re this close! I almost have it!”

“Della, please, we have to go!”

“Not yet! McDucks don’t quit!”

Donald went for the rope, intent on grabbing his sister himself, but Scrooge restrained him. “The rope is no longer stable enough tae support two of ye!” he said.

“I don’t care! I have to get her!”

As Donald struggled in his uncle’s grasp, Gladstone hurried into the room, feathers askew and out of breath. “What the heck are you people doing?”

“What are you doing?” returned Donald, horrified. “You were supposed to stop the machine!”

Scrooge’s spine straightened with dread. “What machine?” he demanded, though he already had a good idea of what the answer would be.

No one got a chance to explain, for just as Della grabbed hold of the chest the ceiling split apart, creating a giant crevice down the middle. After their vision adjusted to the abrupt burst of sunlight, they could see Flintheart standing atop the ledge, a wide grin on his beak.

“Aha! I got ye nao, McDuck! On the first try, too! Bless modern technology!”

“Glomgold!” snarled Scrooge. “What do ye think you’re doin’?”

“Claiming that crystal! The energy it provides will bring me a flood of money, and Ah’ll finally be richer than ye!”

One goon lowered through the gap on a rope, straight for Della. Eyes narrowing, Della hissed, “I don’t think so!”

With all the strength she had she whipped the chest across the cavern, so it clattered at Scrooge’s feet. He picked it up and watched desperately as Della hung above the crumbling floor. “Lass, ye need tae move!”

Della started to wiggle her way back down the rope, the goon pursuing her. But they did not get far, for there was a giant cracking noise and Flintheart let out a shout, scrambling backwards as the ice began to cave in completely.

“Everybody move!”

What happened next was a series of consecutive events that blurred together, colours mixing with sounds. The cry of the goon as the ice under his hook displaced, sending him tumbling straight to one of the few fully formed spikes below. The screeching of metal as the drill was swallowed by the hole, creating yet another avalanche of ice and snow. Donald, Scrooge and Gladstone screaming as the rope gave way, leaving Della to plunge into the dark abyss with a terrified, haunting shriek. Donald charged forwards, ready to follow his twin into the depths, but Gladstone grabbed hold of his coat, pulling him back, just as a tremendous rush of wind exploded behind them. blowing them upwards and through the ice along with a geyser of snow.

For a while, there was silence. Donald, Scrooge and Gladstone lay in the snow, still with shock. Donald was the first to react with a scream of pure grief and agony which echoed in the artic wind. Scrooge clutched the wooden chest, body shaking with silent sobs as the realization of what had just happened struck him. Gladstone swore loudly and viciously, cursing Glomgold with everything he had as tears trailed down his cheeks.

Why¸ why couldn’t he control his luck? Why couldn’t it have saved Della?

Incoherent with rage and despair, Scrooge and Gladstone had to drag Donald to their snowmobiles. The two vehicles managed to remain unscathed by the chaos. The stairwell was now closed in, blocked by snow. With a tremulous voice Scrooge radioed for help.

It took three days to recover Della’s body. Donald, Scrooge and Gladstone remained in the freezing atmosphere, refusing to leave without her. None of them spoke with each other, cold anger and resentment simmering beneath their stony facade. They kept it reigned it for the sake of Della, for she did not deserve to be surrounded by anger as they bid her farewell from life.

It was after the funeral when the fallout happened.

“This is all your fault!” screamed Donald, shaking with fury, glowering at his uncle who sat stiffly behind his desk. “Why didn’t you go after her?”

“What would that have accomplished?” demanded Scrooge. “Ah had Glomgold’s goons pursuin’ us. If Ah did nae stop them they would have cut the rope themselves! Why did ye nae warn me aboot Glomgold’s plan from the start?”

“I didn’t think I needed to!” Whirling with a ferocious glare at Gladstone, he snarled, “Someone was supposed to put a stop to the machine!”

“What good would that have done?” hissed Gladstone. “Maybe I could have disabled the drill. But that ice already took damage! If I didn’t come down there, all of you would been lost!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes, I do!”

“I though you couldn’t control your luck,” said Donald scornfully. “How could you possibly know you would have been able to save us?”

“I don’t know how it works, I just have guesses,” said Gladstone tightly. “When you’re in my immediate vicinity, my luck covers you, so long as I will it.”

“Guess your will wasn’t strong enough for Della. So much for her being your favourite cousin. But then again, you never cared about anyone but yourself.”

The punch came before Donald was prepared for it, sending him flying across the carpeted floor. Donald sprang to his feet and launched at Gladstone with a wild cry. Scrooge hastily got up from his chair and intervened, forcing himself between his brawling nephews.

“Stop it!” he ordered, trying to keep his voice steady. “This is ridiculous!”

“No,” said Donald shakily. “What’s ridiculous is that I lost my sister. Because she took your lesson to heart. When you’ve gone so far, never turn back, no matter how hard the road ahead is. Look where it got her.”

“Do nae blame me,” said Scrooge angrily. “Ah told her tae come back. She did nae listen.”

“Probably because she knew how you’d react when she returned without the treasure,” said Gladstone bitterly.

“I never would have—”

“You’ve never given us a reason to think otherwise,” interrupted Gladstone. “The time Donald lost the gold lamp in the river escaping from crocodiles? You gave him the silent treatment for three days. The time Della dropped the sacred jewel down the mountain to keep her foothold steady? You were mad at her for a week.”

Scrooge went silent for a minute, slowly lowering his wings. “The problem with ye lot is that ye never listen,” he said at last, voice cold.

“We never listen?” cried Gladstone. “That’s rich coming from you!”

“Like you’re one to talk,” hissed Donald.

Their arguments overlapped, resentment and anger rising above their grief as they pinned blame on one another. They only stopped when a knock came on the thick wooden door and a lawyer along with a Child Services worker entered.

The sight of them sent the trio into silence. Immense guilt swelling in Donald’s chest, he immediately went to where three eggs lay snug in a stroller. He knelt next to them and he whispered, so only they could hear, “I’m sorry.”

He hoped they couldn’t feel the negative energy in the room. They had already lost their mother, they deserved a happy life from here on out. But as the reality descended upon him, Donald screwed his eyes shut. He wouldn’t be able to give them the life they deserved, not with in his income. But it would destroy him if he had to give all three of them up.

Della had not left explicit instructions on what should happen to her sons if something befell her. She didn’t think she needed to, given that she was young and fit. With their parents gone, it left Donald as her closest living relative, and therefore the first choice for guardianship.

“I don’t…of course I want them,” he said helplessly, feeling tears gather in his eyes. “But I just can’t afford to take care of all three of them.”

“Ah can help—” began Scrooge, but Donald cut him off.

“I don’t want your money. You’ve done enough.”

Scrooge bristled at that, but even as anger flashed through him, he couldn’t miss the devastation on Donald’s features. Neither did Gladstone. Crossing his wings over his chest, he looked away and said tightly, “If you can’t raise all of them, you can at least raise one.”

Donald shifted his gaze to look at Gladstone, eyes narrowing. “You mean split them up?”

“If you won’t accept Uncle Scrooge’s money and I know you won’t accept my lucky influence, then you really have two choices. Raise one or let one of us raise all three.”

Gladstone knew Donald wouldn’t accept the second option. The duck had already made his decision not to have anything to do with them. Gladstone didn’t blame him, for he was eager to leave as soon as possible and not come back, for if he had to stay in this environment any longer his emotions were going to strangle him. And he couldn’t forgive Scrooge and Donald for their decisions, for their behaviour. It was much easier to live with himself when he could pin responsibility for the tragedy on them.

Donald seemed aghast by the idea, though nothing about this was ideal. He scrubbed a wing down his beak, staring at the eggs. The notion of splitting the triplets up made him feel horrible. But not being able to raise even one of them made him feel worse. He knew that made him selfish, but he needed this.

“On one condition,” he said at last, voice shaking. “You treat them right. You keep them safe. You give them the life they deserve.”

Scrooge gave a short nod. Huffing out a shaky breath, suddenly realizing what he was committing to but refusing to back away now, Gladstone said, “All right then. We’ll each raise one.”

It wouldn’t make much sense for Donald to take an egg and Scrooge to take the other two. Though nothing about this was fair, they knew they couldn’t keep one triplet separated while the other two grew up together. Gladstone knew nothing about raising kids, but for once, he was more than willing to make the effort.

Anything for Della.

The documents were made up and soon enough they were finalized. Donald and Gladstone went their separate ways, Donald to the coast and Gladstone to Las Vegas, and Scrooge remained in Duckburg.

They never spoke again.

[writingwitchly]

The little loop

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Word count: 2k

Warning: sadness / mentions of war

A/N: So. SO. Soo. S O. The new Tumblr mobile actualization is being a total @#$%, school is asfixiating me, my sleepless hours keep getting worse, my brain isn’t helping, and I’m surrounded by  t e n s i o n s, with a 105% of probabilities of receiving the whole bad mood discharge on my head... A real fun ride. Anyway, this is for @herondalesucks​, cuz we need more sweet beans in this world and we should thank them when we meet any. Enjoy!

“Honestly,” you pant as you drop the grocery bags on the kitchen’s counter, “You didn’t miss anything too thrilling.”

The clinging cans and ripping of plastic fill up the silence that follows your remark, until your friend finally speaks up,

“Anything would be more thrilling that constantly looking at these same walls, Y/N.” Her head is bent over the rest of the shopping bags, but you can guess her sad expression by the off tone in her voice.

Yesterday, as Sirius and you attended a party at Marlene’s place, thinking about your redheaded friend’s comments if she had been there made the firewhisky’s usual burn bitter, and the same taste now invades your mouth after lying to her. The night was quite something. A moment of escape in the darkness of the actuality.

A little strangled sound coming from near the sink wakes you up from your reverie.

“Oh Lils…”

In a swift movement, your friend buries her face in the crook of your neck and, for the first time in years, she lets her feeling flow in salted water.

The Potters have been hiding for now exactly ten months, with the prohibition of participating to friend gatherings, Order missions, and any other type of outside trips -- including grocery shopping, which you’ve taken care of today as Batilda needed some rest.

For the energy balls that are Lily and James, this boredom is literally a synonym of long and painful death.

“Listen,” you whisper in her ear as you caress her flaming hair, “We’ll fix this, okay? Sirius and I will stay over tonight, so we can try to cook something special and then play some dare games.”

With a childish smile, she pulls away from her hideout, but still grasping to your waist as to life. “And can we build sheet-and-chairs forts and have a pillow fight and sing songs by the fireplace?”

“Of course,” you laugh, “Just like in the old days.”

Her heart a little lighter now, you decide to resume your emptying of the plastic bags, without much of a result as James storms in after a little while.

“Y/N!”

His rib crunching hug is worthy one of Hagrid’s, and it startles you the double as it comes from behind your back.

“Ow- James.” You pat his hands, and end up trying to get them off you.

“‘m so happy to see you,” he says excitedly, his tic of pushing his glasses up on his nose freeing you.

“Me too,” you breathe for air more than you say, red in the face.

The young man standing in front of you looks as clumsy as he did back in your teen years, which builds up his part of his charm, but you note some new seriousness deeply rooted in his eyes. It certainly is a consequence of having to deal with his responsibilities as an adult, then a husband, and finally a father, but you know for sure it is also the result of all you had to face right after getting out of your golden years, right after life as you knew it split into burning hell and awkward chaos.

“What are you two doing here? We’re waiting for you in the living room!” he asks.

“Well, we still have to…” His wife gestures toward the kitchen’s counter, where a considerable pile of food still waits to be stored in the cupboard.

You glance at her puffy eyes and the dark circles that underline them. It seems like all of the energy has been drained out of her body, which before was athletic and brisk, and now still is, but in an exhausted way. Her usual playful expression is just a shadow, a ghost that can be remembered only by those who have witnessed it in the past, and you’re not sure that her formerly joking voice can produce anything now but neutral comments or motherly encouragements.

Trying to ignore the feeling of pity that Lily would be ashamed to know she inspires you, you gently grab her wrist. “The cans won't fly away, Lils, let’s go.”

Still sniffing, but with her fine pink lips stretched in the attempt of a smile, the young woman nods.

As you turn toward the door, your mind registers a look of complicity traveling from her to her husband, but you don’t give it much importance. Couple things, you think. After all, you too have similar expressions sometimes.

“Where’s my little Harry?”

The living room, sunken in a semi-darkness when you arrived a while ago, is now lightened by reduced magical fireworks, much to the eleven-months-old baby’s amusement. Tiny fingers try to catch the bright glows, Harry’s young mind surely making up stories of its own to explain the bizarre shots of lights that he keeps failing to grab.

By the child’s side, on the carpet, Sirius lies on his abdomen, wand swirling to direct the fairy-like spots from his godson’s nose to the roof, and back. The huge grin of happiness plastered on his face, so different from the usual expression of worry that now accompanies him everywhere, tightens your chest. He keeps shouting at Harry, encouraging him to stretch higher to get to his goal, already teaching him the right attitude to face life. When the baby’s giggling convulsions involuntarily throw him off-balance, the man’s hand is there, always, to catch and steady him, which leads to more roaring guffaws and chirp-like laughter.

“Are you okay?”

Now, the roles are flipped: it’s Lily’s time to ask, and James’ turn to pat you.

Tears run down your cheeks, but you couldn’t place the emotion that generates them. Your heart is heavy with a mix of admiration for such a tender scene, for such a pure love. But also with the sight of your boyfriend playing with a baby -- a child that maybe, one day, you two will have the chance to mother too -- and acting like a father. And, unfortunately, the knowledge that this could happen outside, under a warm sun, in the green garden of a happy house, in a world at peace.

You used to think bitterly about having to fight at your young age, about seeing your dreams crush in the perspectives of suffering, about your colored horizon suddenly being replaced by a scale of dark, shapeless sorrow. But looking at Harry, at his pure green irises and his messy hair, you understand how much more he will have to face, growing in a world where innocence is replaced by uncertainty. How much braver he will have to be. And, even if you’re not a seer, even if you can’t declare prophecies like the one that links this infant’s path to that of evil and agony, you have the feeling that he will indeed be.

A warm chest pressed against your back causes your tensed muscles to relax, an exploit that only Sirius can achieve lately.

“Don’t cry, darling,” he whispers in your ear, “Or I might cry too.”

James and Lily take it as a joke, and chuckle a bit. So do you but, deep down, you sense truth in his words. This is a time when everybody, even the strongest, are susceptible of breaking down.

“I’m sorry,” you say gloomily, rubbing what’s left of the tears from your face.

Harry’s moans attract your attention, and you crouch down to take him in your arms, his naive wide eyes warming your interior.

“What do you guys think about putting Mr. Potter Junior to bed and cooking some pasta?” you ask between to pecks on the baby’s fleshy arms.

“Not yet.”

Not yet? You thought that Lily wanted to get a bit distracted.

“Yeah, not yet, Y/N,” her husband seconds her, scratching the back of his neck. “Harry still has a- mission to complete.”

“A mission, Harry?” you smile as you tickle the child’s belly. “What can it be?”

“You can tell Y/N now, Harry.” Sirius’ voice is warm and excited.

James starts shifting his weight from feet to feet, exaggeratedly beaming at you or his son, you can’t tell. “Come on, Harry, tell her to say yes.”

Even Lily seems affected by whatever got into the boys, because she repeats the Word yes over and over as she caresses the baby’s feet.

Harry’s innocent look bounces from each one of you to the next one -- probably not understanding what is going on, like me, you think -- until it finally comes back to his balled fist, which he starts munching.

Immediately, you are assaulted and the child is ripped from your arms.

“He’s going to swallow it!”

“Open his fist! Open it!”

“Don’t you- It’s not here!”

“Harry, spit!”

“Come on, Harry, listen to Daddy!”

“I told you this was the hell of a bad idea!”

In the agitation, neither of the three notices a small object falling on the floor. As you bend down to retrieve it, you distinct its silvery color in contrast with the red carpet. You take the little circle between two fingers and expose it to the light of the still moving fireworks.

Wait a minute: a circle?

“Sirius?”

Three heads jerk in your direction.

“Wha-”

“Surprise, darling.”

Everything, everything, in this moment is perfect. Your boyfriend’s goofy grin, his blushing cheeks, his glowing eyes, your friends’ relieved expressions, Harry’s bubbly drooling, and the little metallic jewel in your hand.

“Sirius, is this a marriage proposal?” you ask, feeling your skin prickle.

“Is this a yes?” he answers, as nervous as you are.

You’re grateful that nothing stands in the way, because you would have knocked out even a dozen of Death Eaters to get to him right now. Your body collides with his in a kiss that you hadn’t shared in a long time. It’s one of those passionate affection demonstrations you used to give each other in your first years as a couple, but that were now replaced by constantly covering each other’s back or worrying to death because of the other’s delay.

You feel his mint breath on your upper lip, and his teeth tugging your lower one. How long had it been since you last took the silky texture of his hair between your fingers? Apparently, he feels the same about the presence of his hands on your waist, as he hugs you tighter.

Your friends have the delicacy to look away until you two finish kissing, which takes so long that James rolls his eyes when you do. “There is a minor in the public.”

Lily pinches him with her free hand, and drags him toward the kitchen despite his waits and I want to see her say nos.

Your chest heaving up and down is on perfect synchrony with Sirius’, and your arms are still safely locked around his neck.

“You didn’t answer, darling.”

“Well, you didn’t properly ask, Black.”

He tries to suppress a smile, but fails.

How is it that you can still, and always, win?

“Fine.” His fingers softly force your hands open and grab the little cold loop from it. With a meticulous slowness and a wink that makes your heart melt, one of his knees reaches the ground, while the other, like his eyes, look up at your face. “Y/N L/N. To honor all the years of mutual love we have demonstrated each other, and still plan to do, would you grant me the-”

“Do you want to marry him or not?”

James’ intruding face quickly disappears back through the next room’s door frame, and through your giggling you hear Lily scolding him.

“Sirius Orion Black. It is with great pleasure that I-”

“Yes! She says yes!”

“James!”

“But Lily- If I hadn’t helped them, these two would still stealthily look at each other with fish eyes from the opposite corners of the room!”

“So would you if Y/N hadn’t stepped up!”

“What does this mean?”

“That they can handle their own thing by themselves.”

Ignoring their discussion, Sirius slides the shiny ring on your finger, enjoying the sight of it.

“Ready to become a Black, Y/N?”

“I’ve always been, Sirius.”

Permanent tag list: @miss-nerd0905​ @funnymrspotter​ @obsessionsandothersandmore​ @daytodayfun​ @electraheart-isdead @laurenslines​

Sirius tag list: @glitteryfreakslimeegg

[consoledacup]

Why Did You Make Me Watch Paranormal Activity?

“Uh... Skye?” 

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to slow her heart rate down. 

The room stopped trembling.

For now, she was calm.

For now, she was in control. 

She whipped her head away from the screen with a small yelp. “Why aren’t you more freaked out from this?” 

Fitz shrugged easily. “Our run-in with Tobias on the Bus put things into perspective a bit. And also being dropped from the sky in a storage pod.” 

“I hear ya, Fitz, I do. But when --” Skye covered her eyes, and Fitz’s laptop began to shake again.

Fitz chuckled. “It does add a bit of a fourth dimension to the viewing experience.” 

“Glad I could oblige,” Skye muttered dryly. 

The tremors eventually stopped after a minute.

“Seriously, none of this bothers you?” 

“Like I said, Skye. All in --” 

“-- perspective. Yeah, got it.” Fitz stared at her a beat too long and then flicked his eyes back to the screen, but Skye knew better. 

She triggered something. 

There was only one person who finished his sentences like that. 

And neither of them were talking to her at the moment. 

Not out of -- they were talking to her, of course. 

Just not talking to her. Sharing with her Skye’s most recent development. 

Keep you safe until we figure it out.

Those were Fitz’s words. 

She hesitantly agreed to those words. To his plan. 

And was grateful to have someone in her corner. 

But she didn’t miss the look on his face when she finished his sentence. 

“Simmons didn’t want to to join in on the... fun?” 

Fitz scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, um. Only, I didn’t - I didn’t invite her.” 

“Not a scary movie fan?” Skye asked, hoping to keep things light. 

She knew the real reason why he didn’t invite her. 

So did he. 

But he went along with it anyway with a little, broken smile. “Definitely not.”

Skye thought about delving further about it, but then her heart stopped, and she shrieked, and Fitz’s entire bunk began to quake. 

“Skye.” 

“Working on it,” Skye said through gritted teeth. 

Fitz looked back and forth from her and his laptop and then mumbled a quiet “okay” and tapped the space bar and closed his laptop. 

“Sorry, Fitz.” Skye apologized again. She was full of apologies these days. 

Fitz held up a hand. “My fault. Shouldn’t’ve suggested a horror film when you’re still figuring what you -- who you -- um. That is... “ 

“Yeah. I get it,” Skye sighed. 

She desperately wanted to change the subject to anything but what she was. 

“So, you really don’t get scared from this stuff, do you?” 

Fitz scrunched up his nose. “I wouldn’t say that. I get plenty scared. In fact... “ Fitz trailed off, looking at her. 

And maybe it was a pity share. 

Maybe it was a vulnerable one. 

Maybe it was a combination of the two.

But she did not expect what Fitz said next. 

“I know it’s ridiculous, and statistically, I will most likely never be in danger from it, but... I have a paralyzing fear of clowns.”

“Clowns? Really, Fitz?” 

Fitz huffed. “Yes, really. Was flipping through the channels when I was ten and accidentally landed on It.” 

Skye shuddered. “Why didn’t you just turn the channel?” 

“The button was stuck. Finally just ran out of the room.” 

“Oh, Fitz.” 

“Yeah,” Fitz chuckled. “What’s the worst bit is my mum had tickets for us to see the circus a couple days after. A way to cheer me up after my...” Fitz frowned, seemingly lost in thought. 

There was a piece he wasn’t sharing. A piece she knew he didn’t want to share. 

And that was okay. 

So she gave him an out. 

“I take it your circus outing didn’t go as your mom expected?” 

Fitz shook his head with a small smile, and she could tell he was grateful for the question. “Not at all. In fact, I made so much of a fuss about leaving, she scolded me for acting like a brat.” 

Skye laughed at that, and Fitz’s smile grew, and she suspected he was happy that he could cheer her up a bit. 

“When I told Jemma that story...” Fitz continued. “She had never heard of It, so I had her watch a scene from the movie, and she didn’t speak to me for three whole days afterward.” 

Fitz’s fond expression turned into a grimace. 

“Don’t you think you should talk to her, Fitz?” Skye prodded slowly.

“I already told you I don’t think it’s --” 

“I’m not talking about me.” 

Fitz nodded slowly in realization before setting his jaw.

“If you miss her, she needs to know.” 

“Who said that I -- I don’t -- she’s living on the Playground with us.” 

“Fitz, you said you hallucinated her.” 

Fitz whirled around to face her sharply. “Yeah. And I told you that in confidence.” 

Skye threw up her hands. “And your secret’s safe with me. Seriously. I’ve got way more to lose if you reveal mine.” 

Fitz leaned his head back against the foot of his bed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to... you know...” 

“Forget it.” 

“I just,” Fitz closed his eyes. “I just think I’d make things worse right now. With... with Simmons, I mean.” 

“Fitz, she clearly misses you too.” 

Fitz scoffed. “She misses the old me.” 

“No.” Skye insisted fiercely. “She doesn’t.” 

“Sound pretty sure of yourself for someone who flinches from fake ghost stories.” 

Skye knew that was his way of telling her to drop the subject. 

“Yeah, ‘cuz it’s not like I suffer from the most basic phobia in the world.” 

“Nice. You order a pumpkin spice latte one time!”

Skye playfully poked his shoulder. He swatted at her a bit, but she still caught the smile he was trying to hide. 

“Fitz?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Thanks for not turning your back on me.” 

Fitz gave her a funny look. “I’d never do that.” 

Skye nodded furiously. “I know you wouldn’t. But thanks, all the same.” She tried to subtly wipe her eyes, but a few tears leaked out anyway. 

“Hey,’ Fitz said softly, turning towards her. “We’ll figure this all out, okay? And you’ll be just fine, Skye. I promise.” 

Skye swallowed and steeled her expression in resolve.

He was right. 

She’d be fine. 

She’d be fine. 

She’d be....

“Okay,” She said in a firmer tone than she felt.

...fine. 

-

This is for @tashonix who requested a backstory about Fitz’s fear of clowns, so of course I had to have Fitz tell it to Skye (and Tash) himself. Hope you liked! 

Check out I Would Never Hurt You where Jemma and Fitz have their first conversation that sets the path for mending their relationship.

Hit me up with the prompts, yo. I have not forgotten any of the ones I’ve been given. I promise!