#IT WAS A ONE IN A MILLION CHANCE. AND THIS. THIS SINGLE INSTANT. WILL EAT AT ULT DIRK FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFR.

[landoffreaksandfrogs]

*thinks about ult dirk* *crushes phone between my teeth*

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're convinced you and Bradley could go on the same date a million times over, and you would find something new to love about it each time. You don't want the weekend to come to an end, but at least you get to enjoy time with a favorite visitor on Sunday evening. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, pregnancy discussion

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley was dressed and lounging back on the pillows with his arms tucked behind his head. You were getting ready to go out, and he was thoroughly enjoying watching you put on your red lingerie. His favorite set.

"We could just stay in," he murmured as you clasped your bra and rolled your eyes. Your face was made up and you were standing at the foot of the bed wearing barely anything at all. "We should just stay in."

You scoffed and said, "You should let Tramp out so we can leave in twenty minutes. I want to eat hot sauce with my sexy husband."

"Fine," Bradley sighed with a smile, pausing in the doorway to watch you slip your red dress over your head. The same one you wore on your first date together. The one Bradley loved you in every time you wore it. And then he walked through the kitchen to let Tramp outside. Your new French press was on the counter along with the half unpacked Amazon box that neither of you had time to get to all week. But he reached inside and pulled out one of his new notebooks and took a pen out of the drawer.

Bradley had been working late all week for various reasons. He'd missed a lot while he was deployed. Plus the Slayer and Dean court-martial was moving ahead. And also, Maverick had offered him the chance to meet some pilots fresh out of flight school with the promise that Bradley could help with some training exercises in the coming months. He was tired. Next month was his thirty-seventh birthday. He was feeling his age.

He clicked the pen in his hand and opened the notebook to the first page.

My wife does this thing, and it drives me absolutely wild. When I tell her I'm tired or point out a gray hair in my mustache or mention that I've been feeling my age, she just laughs at me. Sure, I can still run ten miles and lift weights for hours on end, but she can wear me out in an instant. Emotionally, mentally, or physically. She can say one sentence to me like, "I want to go eat hot sauce with my sexy husband," and I am emotionally tanked for the rest of the day. Because I fucking believe her. She actually does want to eat her favorite food with me. And she actually does think I'm sexy. And she's too smart, so trying to keep up with her mentally drains me every single time. And physically... Well. That's where she manages to

"You ready to go, Roo?" you asked, walking into the kitchen looking exactly like you had more than a year and a half ago when you and he were just starting to fall in love. Well, he was already half in love with you by the time that first date rolled around. And by the end of the night, he was a goner.

"What's wrong?" you asked, reaching out for his hand with a little crease between your eyebrows.

"Nothing," he rasped as his eyes dipped down to your cleavage. "Just thinking about how I don't even have to try to play it cool tonight, unlike on our first date." He leaned down and kissed your lips softly and then added, "You look fucking incredible."

"I don't care what you say, we're not staying in for the night," you whispered, running your fingers along his tattoo and pulling him in for a kiss that was clearly at odds with your words.

"Whatever you say, Sweetheart," Bradley replied. He let Tramp back inside and then walked out to the Bronco with your hand in his. And then he got to do one of his favorite things. He opened the door for you, helped you climb in, and buckled your seatbelt. But as he started to pull his right hand away from your body, you caught it and held him close.

"Hey," you whispered. "I don't have to try to play it cool tonight either."

"No?" he asked, his eyes fluttering closed as your lips met his.

"No. I love you so much," you replied. "And I would go on the same date with you a million times, because each time would be a little different, and I know I would remember them all."

Bradley could feel goosebumps on your arm, and your eyes looked a little vulnerable. Last time you and he had visited the hot sauce restaurant and the pier from your first date, it had been on your birthday. And you cried that night. A lot. Because you wanted to be pregnant, but you weren't. He briefly wondered how many other times you'd cried for that reason that he didn't even know about.

He wanted a baby. He still did. But it wasn't his top priority. He understood now how much you'd let it hurt you month after month. And it wasn't the same for him. He knew that now. And he didn't want you to feel like you were failing yourself, your relationship or him ever again. Because you weren't. You were more than enough.

"I remember every minute I've ever spent with you, Sweetheart. And I dream about it when I'm deployed. And I want to have decades of stuff to remember."

"Just keep feeding me hot sauce."

"I fucking plan on it."

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

The ride up to Del Mar was beautiful. The sky faded from orange to purple as Bradley drove and sang along to his Motown playlist with his hand on your thigh. You thought about how you had a panic attack on your birthday after the negative pregnancy tests, but the memory of it didn't hurt as much now.

"What are you thinking about, Baby Girl?"

You glanced at your husband out of the corner of your eye as he parallel parked the Bronco in front of the restaurant. "Honestly?"

He met your eyes briefly as he straightened out the tires. "Yeah, honestly."

"I still want to have a baby, Roo," you said easily, this time without your heart aching. "I still think about it. But it doesn't make me upset like it used to."

He killed the engine, and coaxed you over to his lap. "Come here." When you were settled on him with your hands on his shoulders, he kissed you. "I still think about it, too. I still want it. But not at the expense of this," he added, gesturing between his body and yours before he let his big hand settle on your hip. "I don't want anything at the expense of this."

You took a deep breath and nodded. "Neither do I. And I know we agreed we can talk about this at length in a few more months, but I don't want to stop trying. And if there's still something wrong after a year, maybe we can talk to some doctors?"

"There's nothing wrong with us, okay? There's never going to be anything wrong. But if we still don't get pregnant, there are other options," he told you gently. "Like... fertility treatment or adoption agencies. But whatever we do, it's 50/50. We do it together. And I promise I'll take care of you better than I did before."

You were silent for a beat, because these were things you'd already thought about. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "I'm just saying, if we want a baby, there are other ways to make it happen. But I'm never going to stop wanting to fuck you, so don't think for a second that we're taking that off the table."

You shook with silent laughter before your giggles bubbled over. "Okay, we won't take that off the table, Roo."

He kissed your cheek and said, "Keep your pussy on the table." But he was laughing too, and you felt really good inside. His hands were heavy on your hips, and his lips were nipping at your neck. "Just let me feed you hot sauce and love you, and then we'll figure the rest out later if we even need to. I wanna give it a little more time, okay? Some more time with you off birth control. Some more time with us just being us. Like this."

"Yes," you agreed. "This is perfect. This feels good."

Now he was rubbing his mustache along your cleavage, and you knew you needed to get him inside the restaurant while you still could. "I'm hungry," you whispered.

"Me too," he agreed with a smirk.

"For dinner," you clarified with a laugh.

When you finally got him inside the restaurant, you could hear his stomach growling, so you didn't feel too bad. "Order two meals you want to try, Baby Girl," he said casually once you were seated.

You loved it when he let you do that, which was most of the time. And he always let you finish whichever one you liked better. And he never complained. You could feel his eyes on your body when you walked around to look at all the hot sauces on the shelves. Every time you glanced at him across the restaurant, he gave you a little nod or a wink. And there was no doubt in your mind that you were just as attracted to him now as you were the first time you were here.

When you brought some that you wanted to try back to your table, a brand new bottle of your favorite green sauce was sitting next to your favorite beer. "How am I supposed to deal with you, Bradley?"

"It's your favorite. And it's a tradition."

You laughed. "You bought me a whole case of 12 bottles online."

"You go through a bottler per week."

"That's actually fair."

Then your meals were delivered to the table, and you doused both of them in a rainbow of sauces and started eating. The two of you ended up sharing both meals, because you couldn't decide which one you liked better. And that one beer made you feel calm, and now Bradley's cheeks were rosy. After your conversation in the Bronco and the past week with him, you felt like all of the weight and pressure you put on yourself was easing up.

After dinner, you were laughing as he led you down the sidewalk with his arm wrapped around your waist. And you couldn't keep your hands off him either. "Why are we passing the Bronco? We should go home."

"Not yet," he whispered in your ear.

You gasped. "Are we going back to the silent disco?"

"Well," he rasped, looking at you with a wince. "Not exactly. I've been trying to get you back there for one, but they always seem to be when I'm deployed. But I had another idea. Let's walk down the pier."

You snorted. "You just want a handjob."

"Please," he replied, leading you across the street and down the pier. "Give me a little credit. I don't just want a handjob."

"Well that's good, because there are a lot of people out tonight," you whispered as he spun you around so your back was pressed against the railing and you were looking up at his face. "You're really handsome."

His cheeks were still rosy, but you thought perhaps your words had deepened the color. You ran your fingers along his scarred neck and across his cheek and into his hair. His eyes closed as he enjoyed your touch, and you studied him closely. He looked a little older than when you met him, with a few gray hairs here and there and maybe another wrinkle or two on his face. He'd been through a lot since then. He had the scars on his arm to prove it. But you didn't want to add emotional scars; he had plenty of those already. You just let him melt into your right hand as your left rested on his chest, and you looked at your diamond ring.

It was yours now, but sometimes you still thought of it as Carole Bradshaw's ring. Not in a bad way. Just as a form of recognition. It felt like an honor that you were wearing something so special. Maybe that was thanks in part to the words Bradley had read to you from his notebook. His recent thoughts and musings. But it was clear that some things were more important than others.

"I love you," he murmured, eyes still closed. "Are you ready for your newest playlist?"

"What is it?" you asked, his question pulling you back to the pier and the grin on his face.

"Just a little something I've been thinking about and finally put together." He pulled his earbuds out of his pocket and held one up for you to take. Then he tucked the other one in his own ear and kissed your nose. "It's all the songs I can remember from the silent disco. Plus what we listened to in the car that night. Oh, and a surprise track. Because I know you'll think it's funny."

Your heart swelled as you slid the earbud into place, and a few seconds later, the Cher song that played at the silent disco was on. And your heart was beating a little faster. And you couldn't stop smiling. "You really remembered all the songs we heard that night?"

Bradley shrugged. "I may have missed some. We'll add them if you remember more, okay?"

"I love this," you gasped, throwing your arms around his neck. "I love you."

He kissed your jaw and whispered, "I told you... I remember every minute I've spent with you. Or at least the way you've made me feel at any given time. Maybe the memories of some of the songs are a little hazy for me, but I remember how fucking good you made me feel that night. And how I was proud to be there with you. I still feel that way."

"Fuck, Bradley. You can't make me cry while Britney Spears is playing."

He laughed. "Okay. Let's dance then."

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

It was dark out. The other people who had been enjoying the view of the ocean from the pier had dissipated. An orange glow from the scattered lampposts softly lit your face like a dream. Bradley had taken to singing all the songs to you, just to hear you laugh and sing along yourself. The random mix of pop songs and '80s ballads and romantic Motown tunes kept a smile on your face. You laughed when Hey Soul Sister played, and you threatened to text Nat. And the whole time, Bradley held you close with his hands at your hips and waist.

"Oh," he said when the music went silent. "That's the end of the playlist."

"It's over?" you asked, leaning back against the railing and looking up at him longingly. You removed your earbud and handed it back to him.

"Baby Girl, it was almost three hours long," he informed you with a laugh.

You tipped your head back and groaned. "It was perfect." Then you gasped softly as his lips found the pretty expanse of your neck and chest which were on display for him. He was sucking gently on your collarbone as you said, "I knew I was in trouble after the first time you brought me here. You were so sincere that night."

Bradley hummed against your warm skin. "I was already thinking about spending the rest of my life with you."

"No! Stop it. We had just met." Your voice sounded breathy as he drew little shapes along your dress with his thumbs, your head still tipped back.

"Didn't matter. Already knew."

Your hands slid up from his shoulders into his hair, and he nibbled along the tops of your breasts as you made the sweetest little sounds. Your nipples were tight peaks against the fabric of your dress, and when Bradley ran his lips lower to feel you, he groaned. The texture of your lace bra filled his imagination with possibilities.

You tilted your head up, and when he met your eyes, you had the audacity to look surprised. "You're hard, Roo."

He raised one eyebrow at you, just short of rolling his eyes. "Listen... when two people love each other very, very much..."

Your laughter filled him. "Oh, is that how this works? You know, that sentence can be interpreted a lot of ways."

He had to close his eyes as you gently squeezed his length through his jeans. "It's how it works with you." He huffed out a breath when you licked his ear and added, "You make me greedy. I want everything."

You hummed softly as you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Bradley glanced around to make sure you and he were truly alone as you whispered, "Then let's have everything. Even if it takes some time."

"I love that," he groaned as your cool hand dipped inside his boxer briefs and closed around him. One stroke and he was putty in your hands.

"And we'll start with the handjob that I was seriously contemplating giving you on our first date."

"Oh fuck, Sweetheart. You're too much." Bradley bucked against your belly as you ran your thumb along his balls. He'd let you go a little further with this, but then he was taking you home for the night. Just a little more. Each stroke was incredible as he kissed your lips.

But when you started asking him questions, he should have known he was in trouble. Because you always got unbridled information out of him when you put him in situations like this. "What do you want for your birthday, Roo?"

He was watching your hand pass over his tip as he grunted, "Another sexy calendar."

"That can be arranged," you said sweetly. "And how do you feel about me starting to save up some money for a first anniversary trip?"

"Do it," he growled as you rubbed at his precum with your thumb. But then he wrenched his hips away, and your eyes were transfixed on his cock as it leapt for you.

"You don't want to finish here?" you asked, your eyes moving up his body to his face as you licked him from your thumb.

After he zipped himself carefully back in his jeans, he said, "I don't want to ruin your dress, and I don't want to get arrested. Let's go home." He didn't even wait for you to respond. He just turned and picked you up for a piggy back ride back to the Bronco.

The drive home was similar to that very first date. After you kissed him while he fumbled with your seat belt trying buckle you in, he turned on another playlist before he started the engine. But this time he was driving to the house that you shared, not the apartment you used to live in with Maria. And he didn't have to leave you for the night to prove to himself that he could, and that maybe he was good enough. He was your husband now, and you had deemed him good enough for you.

Bradley's hand was gripping your thigh as he saw the craftsman down the block. As soon as he was pulling into the driveway, you were crawling toward him, and he barely had the Bronco in park before you were straddling his thighs.

"I want you in every way." That sentence was the best example of how you wore him out emotionally. It was fucking beautiful, and he could spend all night just thinking about it. But you were kissing him now, and he was already aroused again as he finally turned the key in the ignition.

"You own me." You really seemed to love that response as your lips stayed gentle on his and your hand drifted down his body to his zipper again. It was so dark outside, even in the neighborhood, but Bradley could see the question in your eyes as you pulled back a little bit. Maybe you wanted to make sure he wanted this, too. Maybe you wanted him inside you instead of anything else. He just wanted to be with you. "Anything you want, Sweetheart."

"Okay."

He shimmied his jeans and underwear down his hips, lifting you up as well with a soft laugh. Then you took his hands in yours and guided them slowly up under your dress. He was treated to the sight of you unzipping your dress and unclasping your bra and pulling them down so he could see your pretty tits and peaked nipples. But then his hands froze under your dress.

"You changed your underwear. Earlier tonight. After I left the bedroom."

Your laughter had your tits bouncing just enough to distract Bradley and lure his lips to them.

"Oh!" you gasped as he sucked on you. "I did. I know you like the red ones, but I wanted these instead. Do you know which ones they are?"

That was a ridiculous question, and you knew it. He ran his thumb up your slit and could feel the satin fabric and the fancy embroidered letters as you bucked. He sucked harder until you called out his name and braced your hands on his shoulders. You were wearing the underwear you had specially made for the honeymoon.

"Of course I know, Mrs. Bradshaw."

"You passed the test!"

Bradley tugged your panties to the side and thrust up into you in one fluid motion until he bottomed out. "That's a test I will always pass."

Your hands were scrambling around his neck as you leaned in closer and kissed him. He led your hips in a slow roll with his hands on your ass and whispered, "Just. Like. That."

You kept the pace going, already panting softly as he brought one hand back up to your tits. His other fingers trailed around your hip, and he tucked them inside the front of your panties. As soon as he brushed your clit with his knuckle, you whined for him. "Daddy."

It had been a while since he heard you call him that. And fuck if he didn't love it. But you looked almost surprised that you'd said it out loud, eyes wide as you rode him.

"I fucking love it when you call me that," he crooned as he pinched your nipple. Your pussy was already fluttering around him as you kept that perfect tempo. Bradley pressed his mouth to yours as you babbled incoherently, and it was just a lost cause as you raked your fingers through his hair. He came inside you as he kept pressing his knuckle to your clit.

"Come on, Sweetheart," he coaxed as your movements sped up and then slowed as your cries echoed inside the Bronco. Then your lips were all over his before you abruptly broke away.

Your voice was a sweet little gasp as you said, "Don't make a mess on the upholstery."

With a laugh rumbling deep in his chest, Bradley opened the door and lifted you down from the driver's seat. "Just one of the many reasons we're married."

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

You and Bradley were lounging in bed on Sunday morning, and he was doing a really poor job of making you want to leave to meet Cam and Maria for brunch.

"Aren't you supposed to be golfing today?" you asked with a laugh as he pinned your wrists over your head on the pillow.

"Yep," he replied softly. "Supposed to meet Jake, Javy and Bob in less than an hour."

You sighed as his lips met the underside of your breast. "Shouldn't you be getting dressed then?"

"I'd rather go for round three and then drink champagne in the bathtub with you."

Now that did sound nice. The weekend had been so much fun. Going up to the hot sauce restaurant had been perfect. You were exhausted all over from having sex and taking Tramp on long beach walks and staying up too late watching movies last night. And Bradley finished reading his notebook to you and promised he'd start from the beginning all over again. Frankly, you could use a nap already, so you weren't really sure how Bradley was doing so well at the moment.

"I'm supposed to go to brunch," you whispered, and Bradley rolled off of you with a groan.

"I'll get side eye for a month from Maria and Cam if you don't go," he said. "So I guess I'll just go play golf."

"We can do round three later," you promised, kissing his ear as you climbed out of bed and started to get ready. "You want me to bring you back some avocado toast?" you asked with a smile.

He made a disgusted face. "You know I hate that stuff. I'll just day drink and eat protein bars like a normal person until you feed me dinner."

"If I decide to feed you dinner later."

Bradley's face looked panicked. "You have to. Please? Sweetheart," he called, springing out of bed and following you to the bathroom. "Please?"

"You're ridiculous, Bradley. Go get a pack of chicken out of the freezer, and I'll make you some Marry Me Rooster tonight."

"Thank you." He kissed you so long and so passionately, you actually felt a little dizzy when he walked out of the room. "He's ridiculous," you muttered as you pressed your fingertips to your lips.

When you finally made it to brunch fifteen minutes late, Cam was glaring at you. "Maria wouldn't let me order anything until you got here. And I'll just bet you're late because Lieutenant Commander Mustache was doing something nasty to you."

You burst into laughter as you slid into the booth next to him. "I mean... I was just helping him with his golf clubs."

"The two of you are fucking filthy," he replied, flagging down the waitress while you and Maria laughed.

Brunch with the two of them was always fun, and you were on your second mimosa when Bradley texted you.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Jake wants to know if we can watch Jeremiah tonight if he can manage to get Cat to agree to go to a movie. I told him I had to check with the boss. He laughed and said he should have just texted you instead of asking me... oh wait, I think he's texting you now. Why did I even bother? And then you got a text from Jake asking very nicely if he and Cat could drop Jeremiah off later on their way to a movie. You told them both yes, and when you got home from brunch, you started to clean up the living room. You found your underwear from last night on the coffee table, and your bra was draped over the arm of the couch.

"Don't look at me like that," you told Tramp. "We were just having a good time, okay?" Then you smiled, because you knew that your pup was going to love licking crumbs off of the one year old visitor and following him around the room. "Your friend is coming over. I expect you to be well behaved."

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

"He's just so fucking cute."

"Roo! Stop swearing in front of the child!"

Bradley looked up at you from all fours on the living room floor. "Isn't he too young for it to matter?" he asked in all seriousness.

You were gaping at him like he was an idiot, and he started laughing. "The last thing I need is Cat mad at me because his first word is the f-word."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "If he doesn't learn it from me, then I'm sure he'll learn it from Jake."

"Yeah, well that's Jake's problem," you muttered, ducking back into the kitchen to check on dinner.

Bradley scooped Jeremiah up and said, "You're so freaking cute. Is that better?" The little bubble of laughter he got in response was most likely a yes, so he just went with it. "Let's see here. It's almost dinner time. And then I'll bet my hot wife will read us that book about trucks that you liked so much."

"I'll read it now," you said as you walked back into the room. "Dinner is not quite ready yet."

"Hell yes, she's going to read it to us now," Bradley said as he and Jeremiah crawled across the floor to the diaper bag where the book was stashed. He unzipped it and watched the kid reach in and pull everything out including the book. "Nice work. But my knees can't take much more."

With a groan, Bradley scooped him and the book up and carried them to the couch where you were sitting with Tramp. And you looked calm and relaxed as you held the child on your lap and opened the book. Your voice was so sweet, and you were so beautiful, Bradley noticed that Jeremiah seemed more interested in you than the story at times. And it made him smile, because that was pretty much the same way he always looked at you, too.

But he was done stressing about all of it. Bradley was in love with you, and the weekend was everything he wanted. Having a kid like Jeremiah all to yourselves would be a cherry on top of an already perfect life. And if you and he were both still keen on the idea next year, there were options to be discussed at length.

Bradley let himself hope, just the tiniest bit, that maybe you and he would get lucky before then. But he wouldn't drown in that hope like he had before. And he wouldn't let that hope overshadow how great things were right now. But he wouldn't abandon it either. He laughed as he thought about how insightful his notebook entry was going to be later tonight after Jeremiah got picked up.

"Should I read it again?" you asked, looking up at Bradley.

He kissed your cheek. "At least one more time, Sweetheart. We can't get enough of your voice."

You smiled as he and Jeremiah settled in to hear the favorite story again.

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

The perfect date to do over and over. Little Jeremiah is too sweet, I'm just hoping Cat and Jake are enjoying themselves, too. Just hang in there guys... Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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[samstclair]

Pedro Pascal’s Thespian

Anonymous Request - "Hiya Sammy!

I was wondering if you could do something short but not TOO short, a girl still wants her cozy bedtime read! Anyway, I know it's not that exactly ethical, but I think a great story idea would be Pedro Pascal being your theater teacher (university, no high school p!do stuff here <3) and you're his student, or maybe a co-worker? I don't know, but I know you know! Maybe he wants to see you after class, some storyline like that? Thanks a million billion!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh my god, you're the guy. The guy from those posters! Those like, "Have You Seen This Man In Your Dreams" posters! I knew it! You looked familiar! Like a frog!"

The man with the thick ass unibrow furrowed that unibrow in confusion. He rose his hands up, backing up, "No, I'm not. You're just mistaken, I'm not him. I'm just a friendly Samaritan, that's all."

You continued to walk towards him, gun now raised. "You lied to me, after all this time. You're him."

"No, please!"

"I won't hesitate, bitch!"

Pow. Pow. Pow. POW......beep beep beep BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEEBEEEEEEPPPPEPEPEPEPBBBEEEEP

Your eyes fluttered open, cringing at the sound of all too familiar alarm. You rose your arm and continued to slam your hand on the nightstand until you were able to land it on the alarm, effectively hitting snooze and effectively breaking it in half.

You rubbed your face, pulling the blankets over you to avoid the sunlight that came through your apartment window. There was the sound of traffic and commotion and all that other New Yorkan bullshit.

"What a weird dream," you thought to yourself. "I shouldn't watch so many conspiracy videos before bed."

Then forgetting that dream all in an instant because that's how dreams work, you rose and cracked every single bone in your body. Your favorite one to crack was that tailbone.

beep beep beep BEEP BEEPE BEPEPEPPEPE

"JESUS CHRIST BITCH! A GIRL IS FUCKING UP ALREADY MY GOD!" you yelled, ready to karate chop that already destroyed alarm once more, until you realized it wasn't your alarm. In fact, that all too familiar beeping just moments before also wasn't your alarm. It was your phone.

You picked it up, "Hello?"

"Y/N! Where are you?! Class is starting in like, fifteen minutes, get your booty down here or you'll be fucking expelled! Thespians are supposed to be punctual beings don't you get it?!"

Timmy Tim hung up right after, not giving you a chance to talk. And you weren't sure you could have had the opportunity arose. You checked the time - it was ten A.M. You were supposed to be up an hour ago.

"Oh fuck fuck FUCK!" you whined, grabbing the first pair of pants near you. Your PJ t-shirt would just have to do! "Oh my God, why am I always late?! First that carpet interview, and now this?"

Before you knew it, you were on the streets of Brooklyn hauling ass to your university building. You felt as if you were in a movie, breezing past all sorts of people, from those in suits cosplaying as characters in Succession and Wall Street brokers, to those TikTok fashion students, to Billy Eichner from Billy on the Street!

Running was what you did best, perhaps the ONLY thing you did best. You ran and ran, stomped and stomped, doing summersaults and other parkour shenanigans as to avoid crashing into anyone. Simone Biles WATCH OUT!

You jumped over a rat, a pizza slice, a rat eating a pizza slice, pigeons, cracks on the cement to avoid cracking yo mama's back. The constant horn honking and New York accents fueled you, you were your own person in this big apple, just like everyone else...

But wait - a girl needed her coffee. Like those Forever 21 t-shirts, a girl cannot function let alone LIVE without her coffee. You wouldn't mind being late for stopping at a Starbucks line. Those girls that would come in late to class with their loud fucking car keys in hand, a grande frap in the other, well, they had a point, to say the very least, after all.

And you did just that. You saw the green Starbucks lady just up ahead! You ran and ran!

Once you got your venti brown sugar shaken espresso with an added five shots of espresso after waiting in line for twenty minutes, you were back to your task.

"Hey mama you wanna hit this?!"

You turned at the harsh, deep and guttural voice. It was the same man who would cosplay as a Breaking Bad character you had always passed by, now holding up a crack pipe to you. He was dead serious.

You then held up your venti brown sugar shaken espresso with an added five shots up to him, as if you were cheering together.

"No thanks," your bimbo ass yelled back as you kept speed walking away, "I have my own crack here <3!" Forever 21 would've loved you for that. Instead of those proverbs they print at the bottom of their plastic bags, they should instead plaster your face as a replacement!

His eyes widened. He seemed extremely taken aback, soon following your response with a horrible coughing-laughing combo. It was very reminiscent to that meme of Idris Elba on Hot Ones.

The all too familiar university building was just up ahead. It looked like every other building in this city but you KNEW it wasn't just an ordinary building - it was the Waystar School for the Theatrical Arts - a prestigious and extremely overly expensive school for, well, the theatrical arts. You never saw yourself as a theater major, and to be quite frank, you hated Hamilton because it reminded you of those weird kids in the school hallways, but it wasn't until you were chased out of Colombia with hundreds of thousands of dollars that you thought - well I might as well do SOMETHING with this money...but that's neither HERE nor THERE and we WON'T be delving into as to why that happened!

Timmy Tim was standing outside the steps, his scrawny and tall ass looking down at his phone and back up to the street, a worried look plastered all over his Victorian doll looking ass face.

"Oh my God, Timmy! I'm here," you waved your arms so hard you felt them go numb, "over here!"

He whipped his head to see you, his frown was turned upside down.

"Y/N!"

You stopped in front of him, ready to catch all that breath that left you as you ran. Your sides ached, you felt like an old man going up like three steps.

"Y/N, what happened? What took you so long?" he asked. "And wait, what are you wearing?"

You looked down to your pants...

bruh.

"Um, I didn't have time to pick my outfit, these were the first things available!"

"Cookie monster? Really?"

"Listen Timmy," you snapped, "I didn't have time! Would you rather have me show up in underwear?!"

"I thought you didn't wear underwear. You love to call yourself a "freeballin' commando girl", right?"

You took a minute and thought to yourself. You felt that New York wind mixed with gasoline and steam from hot dog water ride up your bare ass - it was cold. He was right, there's nothing under these pajamas.

"Well, at least my shirt's....okay?" you looked down and stretched it out to get a better look. There was a mixture of stains and wrinkles plastered all over. Some of the stains you recognized, but some you didn't. There was mustard, ketchup and mayo mixed together, boogers, nail polish and makeup smears, Bang energy drink, oil from sour cream and onion Lays chips that you wiped on it with your fingers, watermelon juice, and more. The shirt itself was a light pink and once read  "Holy Crêpe!". It was part of a set you bought when you were back in Paris, but we don't talk about Paris here, just like Colombia. But whatever because now it's faded away, gone from existence. You forgot, this was your depression shirt that you hadn't changed out of the entire fucking week.

"Your shirt looks like Jackson Pollock painted it but he was also blind," he said, embarrassed.

"That's definitely ableist, Timmy Tim," you said. "We gotta go, we're definitely late now!"

You both ran inside, crashing into the glass doors as you kept forgetting they were "pull" instead of "push". But actually, they were neither. You didn't see the big ass sign on the window of the door saying "TO OPEN PRESS BUTTON", as you were too caught up with wiping the remnants of stains that transferred onto the glass as best you could, but to no avail. But you still tried.

"Timmy, hit the button!"

"What button?"

"The big metal one! The one with the Stephen Hawking chair!"

Timmy Tim looked at the handicapped button at the side of the wall, then back to you, in awe. "Bitch, you mean a wheelchair?"

He pressed it, letting the doors open by themselves as you were still trying to clean them.

Timmy gave you a dirty look as they opened slowly. "You know, you shouldn't take part in abusing the system. Neither should the school. It's fucked up, honestly."

"And you should know better than to go to dinner with Kanye West in today's day-in-age, but you don't hear me talking shit! I've seen that photo!" you continued to watch the door open insanely and inconceivably slow.

"Um, actually, Kid Cudi was there also. And Pete Davidson! It wasn't just Kanye!" he shot back.

When the door finally fucking opened, the two of you squeezing through. You gave the janitor a wimpish Jennifer Coolidge-esque smile before running up the stairs, feeling guilty for those stains.

"I fucking hate stairs," you said, legs going up and down, up and down, "why couldn't we use the elevator?"

"Because you broke it, remember?" he snapped as he ran up in front of you. His attitude definitely soured after that Kanye comment.

You suddenly recollected that catastrophe. Not your fault you underestimated the power of the gust from your sneeze. You hated allergies.

"Plus, stairs are better - since your fat ass won't do the stair master at the gym!"

"Watch it Timmy, the stair master is actually harder than it advertises to be!" You guys had hit the third floor, only two more to go. "You know, you talk a lot of shit. I can airdrop your stupid Statistics rap to everyone here, INCLUDING the Dean. Keep up the smack talking!"

You two had finally hit your floor, your class was now just down the hallway. Timmy Tim Tim stopped in front of you, almost causing you to topple back down the stairs. He was very serious. He leaned in to whisper.

"You know how sensitive that video is to me," he warned, before turning and going towards the class. You followed closely behind, feeling silenced.

You both entered the classroom, careful not to bring any attention on yourselves. But let's be honest you were both late as fuck and you also looked a little shaken up, as if you were two weeks into another one of your pink Benadryl benders. Which arguably, you were.

All your classmates looked at you two and as you took your seats. You noticed that your professor was absent, clear from sight.

"Um, where's our professor?" you leaned in and asked Timmy Tim Tim Tim.

He rolled his eyes and let out quite the scoff, "Y/N, sometimes I wonder how you even know how to  walk straight or chew food. Didn't you read the email he sent us like, two days ago?"

You thought back, scratching and searching in your mind for this "email". However, you weren't really sure, as you had forgotten your school email's password and every time you tried to log in, you were locked out and eventually the website blocked you completely. But you wouldn't dare tell this to anyone, this stayed between you and yourself and God.

"Um, yeah I did," you replied, defensive, "I, uh, I just wanted to see if you got the email. You know, testing you." you smiled, biting your tongue like a white mom, your favorite emote. He didn't seem amused.

"I'm kinda nervous, to be honest. He's like," he leaned in, closer, you smelled his wet breath but kind of didn't mind?, "like, a real actor."

It was hard for you to pretend you knew who and what the fuck he was talking about.

"So what? I've never even heard of him, to be honest," you said, fishing for Timmy Tim to reveal the name of your professor's replacement, "like, what's he been in?"

Timmy Tim backed up and gave you a long, blank face. "Are you serious?"

"Serious as cancer," you smiled.

"Pedro Pascal? Like, Pedro Pascal. Narcos, Game of Thrones, Mandolorian, that one Sia music video," he listed, "we literally binged-watched Last of Us, like, three times at your apartment because you said you wanted to take in every aspect of his face you might've missed."

The news caused you to drop possibly the loudest, hardest fart, but luckily someone dropped their textbook at the same time so the noise drowned out. What a good idea.

The door whipped open, slamming against the wall and causing a giant hole. The classroom fell deathly silent...

And then in he came...

There he was...

He was tall, big. He had blocky, black, and dog-chewed 3D glasses that looked like had its lenses popped out deliberately. He wore a grey cardigan that hung down below his butt. He gripped a Starbucks iced quad espresso in a venti cup with extra ice and six shots in his hand, as if it might fall like Jonah Hill's did. He had a patchy beard but a strong mustache. He gripped in his other hand a dark brown leather briefcase. And lastly, he carried the demeanor of an intimidating yet refreshing and real, Hollywood actor.

"Oh shit, will I get charged for that?" he asked the security guard that escorted him in, pointing at the newly formed glory hole.

"Take it up with Logan," the security guard shrugged and left, closing the door behind him.

He turned to the class and smiled. "Well, hello everyone! Sorry I'm late, I got lost. Couldn't read the signs. These glasses here," he pointed to them, "yeah, they don't work."

He set his briefcase on the desk.

"I can't do this", you panicked. "Mama can't handle this right now."

You really couldn't. You really did wish you saved your password to your notes app, because there would've been a lot of preparation needed for this that frankly you did not fucking have. How were you supposed to react to this little Trojan horse the school just dropped on your ass?

"Well, anyway guys! Thank you so much for joining me! Now, I first have to get this out of the way, but I've never taught a class before so bear with me!" he started, smiling. You were petrified. Frozen. You felt like the son from Hereditary when he got possessed in class. "So if you got the email, you know that your professor's out of town and I was somehow available to teach a university class for a couple of days! So here I am!"

"He's so cool," Timmy Tim whispered in your ear. You couldn't snap out of whatever trance you were in. Honestly it wasn't even a trance you were just stumped.

"So what do we call you, professor?" a student asked.

"Uh," he thought, "Pedro's fine, I guess. Or Mr. Pascal."

"Pedro Mr. Pascal, where'd you get that cardigan? It's so chic, no?" another said.

"Oh this ol' thing," he said, feeling himself, "Target!"

And then you saw it.

He did it.

He did the white mom tongue.

Maybe you two were more connected than you thought? Maybe you were prepared? Like, anyone who does that unscripted and unsolicited is automatically an ally, right?

"Well, anyway. I know this is an acting class but I wanna see how skilled you are in the writing department. After all, a show or movie is only as good as the writing! All those Writer's Guild protests aren't for nothing! So go ahead, whip something up! It can be about anything, as long as it is formatted like a script! None of that narrative writing bullshit because my attention span is not all that great!"

As everyone whipped out their laptops and began writing, you were still in your stump. Timmy Tim had to check in if you were okay.

"Uh, Y/N? The fuck is wrong with you?" he asked, somewhat disgustingly. "It looks like you're astral projecting."

You snapped back and looked to him. "Oh my God, Timmy Tim Tim. I didn't think HE'D be our professor!" you hushed.

"But you said you read the email -"

"- um, yeah, obviously I did," you interrupted, trying to save the lie your fat butt told, "I just thought, you know, he's a celebrity and he wouldn't actually have time for this bullshit. He's like, a big deal."

Tim Timmy looked over to the new professor. "I mean, look at him. He definitely has the time."

You looked over to Mr. Pedro Pascal. He was talking to a group of kiss-ass teacher's pet students.

"So are you guys #teamBarbie or #teamOppenheimer?" he asked, leaning against his desk in a true, professor-who-thinks-he's-Robin-Williams-in-Dead-Poets-Society, "I'm not your ordinary teacher, I change my student's lives!", professor fashion.

"Well, one nearly eviscerated an entire population and the other's just a girl who loves pink? I think it's an easy, obvious answer, professor," one student replied.

"No, no," Mr. Pedro Pascal laughed, "I meant which are you going to watch first when they come out."

"Oh! Well, in that case, I'm #teamBoffem!"

Timmy Tim (to the third power) looked back to you. "We should really start our work. We can't let these smelly theater kids beat us. I won't let them beat me."

And with that, Tim Tim grabbed his laptop, smacked it on his desk, hunched his back forward, cracked his fingers and started to type away, all whilst resembling a cartoon character. He was so serious.

"Shit, I forgot. This is school", you thought. "I actually gotta like, work."

You then went into your bag for your laptop, opened up a blank Word doc, and stared at that screen for about five minutes before you snapped back into reality. You looked up to the new professor, who was now writing on the board his name. You thought it was kinda weird, cause like, who the fuck would not know his name?

"What the fuck am I going to do?" you thought, feeling that breakdown coming in HOT, "what's a girl to write about?"

But anyway, he was so fine. You could definitely scope out his dad body under it, causing you to get overwhelmed with anxiety and not gonna lie a little hot down there. But, now was not the time for another shit, despite how much your body's immediate reaction was to do so. Not you're fault you have IBS. Imagine what he would think of you if you asked to go to the bathroom? Ew, gross. You'd much rather wake up to find a lizard stuck to your nipple pasty from the night before on your dresser again, that you had to set free and say sorry to than ever give him the HINT that you, a girl, pooped.

You looked back down to your screen. Because of your inactivity, the screen went black and you were left seeing your reflection.

And then it hit you.

Fuck him thinking how you poop....

GIRL LOOK AT YOURSELF! YOU STILL GOT THAT BENDER SHIRT ON! PEDRO SAW YOU IN YOUR CRUSTY STATE OH FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You began to fully panic, feeling your breath go short and the hysteria creeping in. It drove you crazy as you looked around you, freaking the fuck out that you were sticking out in the crowd of students, not only physically but emotionally. You did NOT want to be that one kid that cries in class. Or have a freakout. Like time and place. What ever happened to you doing it at her birthday dinner?

You felt yourself begin to black out. Why today? Why why why oh my god this is not good. Girl. This is not fun or fresh.

You tried to at least fix your hair. It was picked up in a hair clip, with two strands in the front hanging out. You ran your fingers over them to make them look at least presentable, but the more you ran your fingers the greasier they got. Now you just had two, greasy ass strands of hair hanging out in the front of you. Great.

BUT WAIT!

"Timmy, I need you to do me like, the biggest favor a girly can ask for."

He looked over to you, annoyed that you interrupted what he thought was going to be his magnum opus. You glanced at the screen - the man had already written eight pages worth of material. There was no way, you definitely got the vibe he plagiarized but whatever now's not the time.

"What? Don't you see I'm busy?"

"I need you to cough, like, really fucking loud, on some tuberculosis shit." You reached down into your bag and shuffled through, finding your Vanilla scented dry shampoo. You smiled, relieved.

Mama's gonna put this to work...

"What? Why?"

"Just fucking do it okay? Jesus Christ, you're literally an actor it's your job to fake shit," you held it up, as inconspicuously as you could, but let's be real the bottle is huge cause you just HAD to get the biggest one from Ross for eight dollars. "On the count of three. One, two, three -"

You had your fingers on those strands, and the moment you said 'three' you went apeshit. They were covered in a thin layer of white, the smell stunting you a bit in its power and it's cloud surrounding you like you hit an obnoxiously large vape.

At the same time, Timmy let out the loudest, thickest, most bronchitis-esque, cough he could. It definitely worked, since everyone in the class gave him heavy side eyes instead of you, who by that time had already dropped the can back into your bag and was already going to work by rubbing the white shit deep into those strands.

The cough must've been extremely powerful, as Timmy Tim Timmy's eyes welled up. He turned to you.

"Is that it?" he asked, his voice resembling the Breaking Bad man from earlier.

You smiled, biting your tongue. "That's it, girl. See? I told you, you're such an actor. It sounded very believable."

"Really?" he lit up a bit, albeit still looking sickly.

"Yeah, like, if you were in France during the bubonic plague era and you coughed like that, your ass would've definitely been, like, grass," you told him. "Trust me, I know a lot about that time in history." You felt so much better, not only had your anxiety seemingly slipped away but you loved hyping your girls up. It's what bffs are supposed to do, after all.

You looked back into the reflection of your laptop. The white had pretty much been dispersed, and now instead of it looking matted like it was greasy, it just looked matted as if you underestimated how much spray you actually put. Oops!

"Whatever, it'll have to fucking do", you thought.

You then opened that Word doc again, your confidence stirring a need to create! Now just what should you write about -  

"Hey! What do you have so far?"

And just like that - time stood fucking still.

You turned your head just a bit to the side and there he was. Tall, in his cardigan. coffee in his breath.

"Oh my God, hey professor! Yeah, let me just go ahead here and," you closed the blank Word doc and began to look through your other saved files. Anything. You need SOMETHING. You looked and looked, all while under the pressure of his presence.

You scrolled through all your gibberish, from late night questionable depression journal entries to your outdated resume, to your notes app, to your weird and obscure lists - you just needed something. And you needed it fast.

"Yeah like it should be here," your voice trembled, but you tried your best to mask it as you just being a giggly, happy girl, "I don't know why it closed! So silly! Soooo silly of me! So so silly -"

And then you found it.

You cringed, but it would have to do.

"Here it is!" you looked up to him. His face sent you chills down your entire conceivable body. It was really him.

"Great, what is it? And why does it smell sweet?" his nose scrunched up in the air, trying to find exactly what that smell was. He looked like a wine connoisseur.  

"Oh, the vanilla?" you said, "that's my body spray!"

He made an impressed face. "I like it. Strong. It's telling you it's vanilla, for sure. Anyway, what is it you wrote?"

You glanced at the open entry on the notes app. No how the fuck were you gonna explain this. You really would've just rather tell him you didn't have shit.

"Um, well, so I don't know if you're like familiar, but there are these things," you really tried. But now you've been caught. Caught in 4K like boys say. "Have you ever heard of POVs?"

"You mean, like fan fiction?"

"Uh, yeah actually. Exactly that."

Though you couldn't see him, you felt Timmy give you a look. He knew what it was. He knew exactly what it was. You saw the first episode of Last of Us when it aired and you just had to open your phone and go to town writing a fan fiction that was also never meant to see the light of day. Let alone the light of Joel himself....

"Okay, interesting. Even though I don't think it's what I asked you guys to do, I'll give it a shot!" he sat on the empty desk to the other side of you, turned your laptop to him, and you sat there, every bit of your self-respect and esteem draining out of you as you watched his eyes move side to side reading the lines.

Let's just say, it was a little NSFW! In fact, it wasn't safe at all. It was horned up and just bad. Unintelligible. Incoherent.

Some minutes went by and you were actually pretty surprised you managed to stay somewhat composed. Really it was your power and ability to disassociate in highly stressful situations to thank. You just fixated on the clock, reminiscing about how being in high-school had you reading the time in a matter of seconds, waiting for that bell to ring. But now, looking at it made that comment Timmy Tim made about being a blind Jackson Pollack hit home.

You clocked back to reality and looked to him. He was deep in thought, deep in the reading. His head rested on his hand and his finger was held at his mouth like those old TikTok's of "pov: you stopped by your English teacher's class during lunch and she's eating a salad" bullshit. His eyebrows were furrowed. It really wasn't that much so you weren't sure why he was taking long.

Moments later, a single tear ran down his face. He slowly and gently shut the laptop closed. He looked as if he had just seen an anal prolapse for the first time but was desensitized enough to not illicit a crazy reaction, but be completely numb as if he used to play the Reddit 50/50 game during his pastime when he was younger.

This actually made you somewhat hopeful. Was your work that groundbreaking it made him cry?

It was now just the two of you, you felt like there was no one else in the world besides you two, now sharing this moment.

"Oh my God, was it like, good?" you asked, in your bimbo self.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He then put them back on, stood up straight, and let out a deep breath.

"No," he said lowly, "it's fucking really bad. It..... it stinks," he pinched is nose.

You didn't realize but in your fixated daze on the clock, you had little to no sensation in your bowel area therefore no control of them and you let out some farts during his reading that now cumulated into a fart cloud hanging around y'all.

Your eyes widened.

"Sorry, it's my body spray!" you smiled sheepishly, instead you looked fucking psychotic.

"I thought you said your body spray was vanilla?"

"Bath and Body Works sometimes isn't all that good! Or maybe mine just expired, who knows!" you mustered up, "But anyway, what did you think, professor?"

He rose and leaned into your ear. "I think you and I need to talk about this in private. Let's rehearse in my apartment after class."

He then left your desk.

Your ass was left SAT! You still had goosebumps all over your neck and those hairs were standing - did he just invite you to his apartment to 'rehearse'? The fuck does that mean? Is this even ethical? Who knows and who cares cause you're not just gonna go ahead and say no.

"What was that all about?" Timmy asked. "Why did he cry?"

"Timmy, I think he just invited me to his apartment."

Your friend then did the most soyest face a white man can possibly soy face. "Y/N! What?"

You hushed his ass down. "Shut up, I don't want him to hear!"

You looked over to Mr. Pedro Pascal, now talking to other students. No way you just secured this. That dry shampoo was the best call you made in a while.

After the bell rang, you walked out of class with Timmy Tim Timmy at your side, back down the stairs. Just as you were descending, you heard that all too familiar voice.

"Y/N!"

You and your friend turned. Mr. Pedro Pascal was walking towards you. You swear you could hear Timmy's bones chattering from nervousness.

"Hey professor!" you said.

"Oh, you don't need to call me that. Pedro's fine," he looked to your Tim Tim, "hey, I know you - you were in, uh, what's that movie called?" He began snapping his fingers as he tried to think.

Timmy laughed, pretty modestly, as Pedro tried remembering, embarrassed. "Oh, don't worry about it. You've probably seen me in Lady Bird, Call Me By -"

"Oh, no wait! I remember! Interstellar! Yeah you were amazing in that," he turned to you. You felt a rocket of anxiety go up your ass. "Anyway, Y/N, I thought, since my place is like a couple blocks away, we could go there now together. I would really like to work on your story."

"Of course, Pedro! Let's go!"

You and Pedro left Timmy standing there, clueless. You didn't really feel bad leaving him. He had to know that right now, it was all about you. It's what a good wing-girl would do.

As you and Pedro were descending down the steps talking about whatever mumbo jumbo, you saw these two men dressed in black suits talking at the front desk. You weren't sure why, but something was alarming about them. You thought for a moment that since it's an acting school or whatever, it might've been two dudes recreating Men in Black. But, no. No, something deep inside you was telling you that these two men had no interest in Will Smith OR Tommy Lee Jones.

"Huh," Pedro said, also seeing them. "What's the IRS doing here?"

Oh. Fuck.

It all made sense. Always trust your intuition, honestly. And speaking of tuition - that's what they were probably here for. You taking off with student loans that you had no intention of paying back before you left to Colombia, your fraudulent GoFundMe page - your past was catching up to you. And now, they were here. Right here.

"Mama ain't letting no Uncle Sam ruin her chances with Pedro", you told yourself. "Mama ain't letting that happen."

"Hey, Pedro! Have you ever seen the back of this place?" you asked, stopping the two of you from reaching the landing.

He stopped. "What? Do you mean, like the alleyway?"

"Yes, exactly! The front doors, they're like, broken!"

"Oh, that's what I thought too. Remember, the glasses?" he pointed to them, "Can't see. But the people at the front desk said they're not you just have to press the button -"

You gripped his hand and yanked him down the stairs, making a sharp turn down the hall towards the back alley door. Pedro, too much in shock, just started running too. He then began to laugh because of how crazy and not like the other girls you were being right now.

You glanced behind and there they were - the men in black - high-tailing it after you. They were not playing around. You couldn't be caught, no, not now!

You ran faster, faster, faster! It was what you knew best! Your feet smacked that floor like crazy!

Once you two made it to the back alley door, you stopped and analyzed your surroundings. In the distance, you saw those two men - but you knew you had to make a decision.

You looked to your left and on the wall, you saw it. The fire alarm.

You gripped it, pulling the fuck out of down, causing the loud ass alarms to begin blaring. The sprinklers were now turned on, drenching everything in water. People began freaking the fuck out, running out the door but crashing into it as they forgot too, it was broken.

The rush of adrenaline fueled through you as you saw those Men in Black slip and fall on the floor. The makeshift little waterpark you just made just bought you enough time to officially make it out!

"Why would you do that, Y/N? Are you crazy, that's illegal!" Pedro yelled at you, still somewhat excited.

"Because, uh," you thought of something to say, anything but you possibly being labeled as a fugitive, "because the thoughts! The intrusive ones, you know?"

His worried face soon calmed down. He laughed, relieved, "oh, yeah. Man, I hate those. We should probably go!"

You pushed the back alley door open, and just like that, you were out!

You weren't completely sure how far you two ran, but it was definitely far enough from those agents. Though still drenched in water, you soon ran off a lot of the water off.

You looked to Pedro, who, frankly, you forgot momentarily was with you. He had a gleeful, fun smile on his face. The city was passing you two quickly, it felt like some climax to some dramatic ass movie. Very much so the end of How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days-esque.

"You're crazy, Y/N, you know that? Like you're not well!"

"Yeah, so funny whatever," you rushed, "maybe we should go to your apartment now?"

You kept looking behind him, making sure the Men in Black hadn't caught up to you in their hyper speed, but it was hard to tell because again it's New York and everyone's in a suit? You literally just looked insane and paranoid.

"Yeah, I guess we just have to Uber there 'cause we're pretty far. Do you have the app?"

"Uh, yeah def," you opened your phone and realized you were shaking. You couldn't let Pedro see that so you turned your back to him. He was confused, but not offended enough to ask why you did that.

And then you forgot - the bottom half of your screen literally doesn't work. Every time you went to Apple they swore they fixed it but it would then bug out and stop working. It was a toxic cycle tbh and you really did need a new phone.

You turned back around. "Sorry, Pedro. I don't have the app, maybe we should just get a taxi instead? You know, support local businesses?"

He agreed and you two began flagging down yellow cabs, but none stopped. You hated when they did that. Ain't that your job?

One finally stopped, and Pedro opened the door for you like the gentlemen he is. You sat your big fat butt into it and closed the door. Just as Pedro was walking around on the other side to sit beside you, you looked up at the driver.

Ain't. No. Fucking. Way.

"Nathan?" you said, exasperated.

The Canadian named Nathan Fielder turned to see you, also exasperated. "Holy Crêpe! Y/N?"

"Na fuck this," you hopped back out and slammed that door SHUT! People outside the cab must've thought you saw a rat from how quickly you exited that vehicle.

"Y/N? What is it?" Pedro asked, just before he entered himself.

"Pedro, I actually just realized I'm more of a walker," you said. "Like, on some Walking Dead shit."

He shrugged, closed the door and you two began to walk down to his apartment with no questions asked. Jesus, what more could go wrong today? But no biggie cause you were literally going to Pedro Pascal's apartment!

As you two began down the sidewalk, you felt this force, this inclination to turn back. You swore you've felt this before, almost like deja vu. You weren't comfortable at all with it, but you also felt there would be some relief giving in...

You turned.

And there it was.

The Russian RuPaul furby. That was it, that was the rat.

He was sat in front of the back window of Nathan's cab as he drove it away into the sea of cars, waving its little paw at you, with nothing behind his drag queen eyes.

Fucking monsters...you thought, shuddering at it.

"Hey, you okay?"

You turned to Pedro. He seemed really concerned.

"Oh my God, yeah! You just always have to watch your back, you know? Never know who's an opp!"

"An 'opp'?"

"I forgot, you're a boomer. Can we stop by McDonald's on the way to your place?"

"Yes, I'm starving!" he said. You loved a McDonald's buddy.

Okay let's do time jump you're in the apartment okay it's a nice cute little New York apartment you get the vibes alright cool.

It was now evening, and the sun began to set, casting that golden hour glow into the living room. It had already been a couple hours in, and nothing had yet happened. Pedro was sat on the couch, now looking at a printed out version of your story after he had revised a lot of it, reviewing. You sat on the couch in front of him, and you two were deep in talk about the story.

"-so, I think besides some, you know, grammatical error and stuff, it'd be perfect!"

"Really? Aww, thanks, Pedro. This is a lot of help," you said. "To be honest, I would've never thought that this story would have been read by anyone else but me."

"What do you mean? This is way too good to just be closed off in that Notes app of yours."

There was some moment of silence, as he continued to read the story and you sat there wondering when this 'rehearsing' was going to take place. After all, a girl's had a rough day today. And it was about to get rougher. And not in the sexual way you perv.

"Buzz buzz buzzzzzz", your phone said. You shifted your butt to grab your phone, checking the new notifications. Since the bottom half no longer worked, you need to flip it from vertical to horizontal to back to vertical to access iMessage. It was from Timmy.

iMessage from My bff Timmy Tim 🍑

You clicked it open.

My bff Timmy Tim 🍑: Y/N, call me when you can. It's bad.

You typed back.

You: What is it? A girl's busy.

My bff Timmy Tim 🍑: Did you set off the fire alarm???

You thought to yourself. What the fuck was a girl supposed to say? You had to explain this in person, not through text. It could NOT possibly translate well that way. You instead opted to send a  GIF.

You:

My bff Timmy Tim 🍑: bitch tf???? Y/N, they're saying you could be expelled from the school! You're going to get kicked out of the dorm!

Your asshole tightened at the news. You grew so angry, like, why can't a girl just live? There's literal murders out on the street. Like, chances are someone's doing insider trading on Wall Street as we speak. So what if a girl got $30,000 of her own money and decided to pull on the fire alarm that LITERALLY says "pull" on it?

"Well maybe next time they should put "don't pull" fucking toads", you thought.

"Something wrong, Y/N?" Pedro asked.

You looked up and quickly put your phone away. You smiled again, trying in a reassuring way but again instead you looked manic.

You shrugged. "Ain't no thang but a chicken wang!"

He rose and stretched. "Hey, I have a dinner I need to go to. It's with my bff, Oscar Isaac? You know him, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Can I come?"

He stopped, froze even. He looked at your shirt then back to you. "Um, well, it's really just an actor thing, you know. Business."

"No of course! I get it! I'll get out of the way for you!"

You rose, grabbed the extra copy of your story and quickly walked out, preventing Pedro from seeing your face - as you were on the verge of having an entire breakdown. Your eyes welled up as you ran down the hallway, into the stairwell.

You hid behind the door, hearing Pedro's calls for you, but again you'd rather set another lizard free than have him see you.

You sat down on the stairs after brushing some litter off to the side. Tears ran down your face, you looked down at the paper. You dropped your head down, defeated. Why wasn't anything literally going right? You would've rather missed class altogether!

Some tears fell down your face and dropped onto the paper. You decided to look over it again, specifically the last paragraph, reading what Pedro read:

"Joel pushed the door of your Boston apartment open, exhausted as always. He plopped himself on the couch, hand to his head.

You walked around the corner, in your panties and vintage "Team Aniston" baby tee.

"Aww, are you tired, Joel? Long day?"

"Yeah," he said in his grumpy, low tone.

"Nothing a hug could've solve!" you said, before pouncing on top of him. You hugged him, and he hugs tightly back, he then throws you on the hard floor and you feel his member pressed against your leg. He begins kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fight for dominance but you let him win. He eventually starts going down on you, taking your "Team Aniston" tee off, and starts kissing your labia.

"This...this is a labia," he says.

You lift your legs as he begins to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He holds your foot up and raises himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes are closed, ready to take the boy from Texas in. This is it. No clickers, no Robert, no cordyceps, nothing - just you and Joel."

You stopped reading any further. You didn't realize, but you had a goofy little smile on. You really thought about posting it on Tumblr for the girlies. You got up, feeling a little better now all the tears were out and with a new task on your mind - get your shit from your dorm as you were now probably expelled, and get to work on that fanfic for the girlies!

You got another buzz buzz on your phone and pulled it out.

It was a FaceTime from Timmy Tim 🍑

You answered it.

"Hey Timmy!" you mumbled through boogers and tears.

"Oh my God, did you guys have sex?"

"Bitch does it look like it? I'm literally crying!"

"I don't know, I know you tend to cry after."

"That's sensitive information, Timothee. I'll crack you in half, right before Kylie's BBL ass does!"

"Yeah well that's for the Statistics rap threat, loser ass bitch! So what ended up happening? I don't like seeing my girls down in the dumps."

"He literally just revised my story. That's it. And then went to go eat dinner with Oscar Isaac, you know, your dad. He's such a fucking flake!" you whined, "what's a girl to do in this Big Apple? I just want a dilf sometimes that's it!"

"My dad?"

"Um, yeah. Star Wars or whatever."

"You mean Dune," he corrected.

"Man, you LOVE correcting me! Whatever. Anyway I gotta go, a girl's gotta keep her hopes up in all of this!"

"Come over, Y/N. We'll watch something to get your feelings back up and order boba! You win some, you lose some but what matters is that you'll always have your girls!"

"Oh my God you're the best Timmy I'm on my way as we speak!"

You hung up and bolted for the exit, the fan fiction will just have to wait you guess!

Hope you guys enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

[dreamerstreamer]

Lucky Catch

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: Being lucky has never been your forte, but a chance encounter with a stranger starts making you think otherwise.

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: mentions of being followed/creep behaviour (stay safe!)

A/N: inspired by a scary incident i had a while back (but i’m a-okay) that i thought i could spin into something happier!! i hope you guys like this little tid-bit :)

I must be the unluckiest person in the world, you thought to yourself as you turned another corner on the block.

Above you, the sky had only just begun to turn a pale shade of pretty pink, lavender seeping into the shadows of the clouds. The sun was slowly dipping closer and closer toward the horizon, and with each passing second, the footsteps following you grew a fraction louder—drew a fraction closer. Your heart tightened uncomfortably in your chest, your blood rushing through your ears.

Of all the people who could have been followed by some inevitable creep, you just had to be one of them.

The city was still as loud as ever around you, the streets full of bustling cars driven by tired people making their way home after rush hour just like you. At first, you didn’t believe someone was following you—after all, it wasn’t like you were the only person walking down the street. But the farther you walked, the closer the steps drew, and each time you snuck a glance over your shoulder, you caught the same face peeking back at you through the crowd.

You felt sick.

Your head spun with a million hazy thoughts, your brain just barely managing to piece together a plan with your pounding chest. Should I run home? You chewed on your lip. No, I don’t want them finding out where I live. What would my roommate do? I have my keys on me, but I don’t know if I could throw someone off me. I can try to disappear into the crowd.

You could feel a bead of sweat form on the back of your neck as you picked up the pace, the footsteps behind you following suit. Anxiety lapped at the pit of your stomach, fear crawling up the hollow of your throat and squeezing like a vice.

What do I do?

Up ahead of you, you could see the people filling the sidewalk start to die down a little, and your heart sank. Well, there went that plan.

But just then, a tall figure stepped out into the path a few feet ahead of you, and you felt a pair of eyes lock onto yours. Emerald green bore straight into you, and you blinked.

The man standing in front of you was tall, almost overwhelmingly so, his dirty blond hair gently tousled by the warm, summer breeze. Donning a simple lime hoodie, you watched with rapt attention as his gaze darted behind you, his eyes flashing before meeting yours once more. Although he didn’t utter a single word, it almost felt like he read your mind.

Do you need help?

Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head as subtly as you could, praying that the desperation was clear enough on your face for him to read.

Please.

In an instant, his pursed lips melted into an easygoing smile, and he opened his arms up in front of you. Recognition clicked in your head, and you suddenly began sprinting towards him. Sucking in a deep breath, you felt your heart do a nervous flip as you leapt toward him, your arms outstretched.

In one fell swoop, his arms were wrapped around your torso, catching you in a swift hold before pressing you close to his chest. You sank into his warmth, letting your shoulders go slack. The soft smell of pine filled your senses as you felt him spin your around once, a chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“Hey, there,” he said, and you were shocked by just how kind his voice sounded, “did you miss me?”

Leaning back, you gazed up at him with a look of wonder. God, he really was pretty up close, and you did your best to plaster a smile to your face and nod. “Did I keep you waiting for long?” you managed to warble, playing along the best you could.

The stranger shook his head at you, ducking down to press his lips to your forehead. Heat flooded your chest at the feeling, and your heart swelled.

“Not at all,” he murmured against your skin.

When he pulled back, you watched as his eyes flickered over your shoulder, his fingers still protectively curled around your waist. A moment passed with his hands still pressed against you, and then he let out a breath, his grip loosening.

“They’re gone,” he said simply, and you let yourself practically crumple with relief.

“Oh, thank god,” you breathed, stepping back with a grateful grin. You already felt the weight lifted off your shoulders, but an apologetic smile danced on your lips. “I am so sorry about this. I don’t know when they started following me, and I just didn’t know what to do—“

He sent you a crooked grin, and you felt your stomach churn with butterflies. “Don’t worry about it, really.” His eyes narrowed almost dangerously. “I saw them trailing after you, and I couldn’t just let them follow you home like that.”

Your entire front felt like it was on fire. Even though you were just a stranger to him, he was so kind, and the very thought made your gut erupt with butterflies.

“Thank you so much. You really saved me there…”

You trailed off when you realized you didn’t even know his name. How could it feel so natural to be in the arms of someone whose name you didn’t even know?

“Clay,” he suddenly said, his eyes snapping back to yours. Your soul burned with want. “The name’s Clay.”

You nodded your head, half-feeling like a broken bobblehead. “Thank you, Clay.” You reached your hand out toward him with a lopsided smile. “I definitely did this in the wrong order, but I’m [Y/N].”

The laugh that tumbled from Clay’s lips sounded like straight music to your ears. I could listen to him laugh forever, you thought distantly. Reaching over, he gripped your hand in his, shaking it warmly with a smile. Your fingers wanted to stay wrapped around his forever.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N], and I’m glad I was able to help you out.” His eyes darted down to the watch on his wrist, and he raised a brow at you. “Did you possibly have somewhere you needed to be, by the way? I’d hate to keep you here.”

Your eyes shot wide open. “Oh gosh, my roommate is probably worried sick about me. I promised them I’d be back by now.”

His fingers twitched around yours for a moment, almost like he didn’t want to let go. But then, his hand was dropping away from yours as he sent you a fond, melancholic look. “Try to stay safe on your way back, yeah?”

You nodded, giving him another appreciative look. “I’ll do my best.” Rushing ahead of him, you waved over your shoulder. “Thanks so much, again!”

Clay waved back at you as you darted down the street toward your apartment, but as you tore you eyes away from him, you couldn’t help but feel your heart sink. You had only just opened the front door to your apartment when another realization struck you.

Crap—I should have asked for his number.

Even as your roommate shook you by the shoulders back and forth, concern etched onto her features as she began to interrogate you, all you could think about was the warmth of Clay’s arms circled around you and the tinkling sound of his laughter.

You really were the unluckiest person in the world.

“[Y/N], don’t lose me!”

You can only barely make out the sound of your roommate’s voice as you squeeze your way through the crowd. Why you agreed to come with her to such a busy event, you still don’t know. You hardly even knew what it was the event was about. Something about meeting a popular YouTuber? You could hardly remember, now.

“This is, like, the biggest event in the history of YouTube, ever!” she had yelled at you. “You have to come with me.”

And like the good roommate you were, you had agreed, but mostly just because she told you that there would be free food.

But now, a day and a half later, and there was no food to be seen—especially not the free kind. Instead, all you could see was an ocean of people, and you were absolutely positive you were drowning in them.

I’m hungry, you internally whined. Your stomach growled, and you rubbed your hand over your frontside with a muffled moan. This was a mistake.

Even as your stomach growled, you tried to focus your attention on the situation at hand. Biting back a groan, your fingers squeezed at your stomach—being hungry wasn’t the important part, now. What was important was that you had somehow managed to get pushed ahead of your roommate from within the throng of people packed into the massive atrium.

“At least try to stay with me, will you?” you grunted over the horde of people around you. You narrowly dodged an elbow being pressed into your face, blindly reaching your hand behind you toward where your roommate had been just a moment prior. “I don’t want to have to go looking for you later.”

As soon as your fingertips brushed against warm skin, you quickly latched your hand into the one you had just brushed up against, holding on as tightly as you could manage before tugging. “Follow me—I’m getting us out of here.”

There was no resistance behind you as you began walking forward, pushing your way through the crowd toward what you could only hope was the edge of the room. Why was everybody pushing towards the stage, anyways? Was there supposed to be someone important up there?

With a few more tugs forward and the occasional apology spilling from your lips, you found yourself bursting out from the crowd and into an open space, your shoulders sinking with relief at the lack of people pressing in against you. You grinned as you straightened, squeezing your roommate’s hand in yours. Was her hand always this big and warm?

“We made it,” you breathed, turning. “Can we get something to eat, no—”

The words died in your mouth as you looked up into the emerald green eyes gazing back at you.

Oh no. This wasn’t your roommate.

“Um, hi,” he said, offering you a lopsided smile. “Fancy meeting you here, [Y/N].”

Your eyes felt like they were about to bulge out of your head.

“Clay?” you blurted.

His grin only grew wider. “That’s me.”

Your gaze darted down to your connected hands, his fingers wrapped around yours warmly. Immediately, you stumbled back, looking and feeling like an absolute blubbering mess.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I was here with my roommate, and I thought you were her.” You sheepishly peeled your eyes away from him, your face growing hot with embarrassment. “I swear I don’t do this kind of thing on the regular.”

He barked out a laugh, and your insides felt fuzzy. You didn’t want to admit how much you missed hearing that laugh.

“I was gonna say,” he said, cocking a teasing brow at you, “both of our meetings have been pretty forward of you.”

You buried your face in your hands, letting out an embarrassed whine. “Do not remind me. I can’t believe I got you roped into my shenanigans, again.”

You felt a hand gently pat your shoulder, and you peeked out from between your fingers to see him smiling kindly at you. “It’s no biggie, really. I wouldn’t mind meeting you like this more often, or just in general.”

Your jaw dropped. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.” Slipping his hand into his pocket, you watched in awe as he fished out his phone and held it out to you. “Here, give me your number. I’d love to take you out sometime.” He glanced up at you, looking almost shy. “Maybe we can even grab a bite to eat after this?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he for real? Was someone this handsome and this sweet really asking you out?

It looked like your luck had turned around, for once.

Gingerly taking his phone from his hands, you nodded. “That sounds nice.”

As you began entering your contact information, you felt Clay fidget next to you. “You said you came here with your roommate?” he prompted after a moment.

Your lips quirked. “Yeah—she begged me to come with her today. I kind of forgot who she wanted to see, though.” Your brows knitted together. “I think she said something about a face reveal?”

Next to you, Clay had gone oddly still for a moment, but as soon as you were handing his phone back to him, he brightened, a smile tugging on his lips. “Ah, so she’s a fan and you’re here to accompany her?”

You nodded. “Yep! But I don’t regret coming, since I…” You gulped, your face growing warm once more. “Since I got to see you.”

You could have sworn you caught a dust of pink colouring Clay’s cheeks when all of a sudden, a familiar face popped out from the crowd.

“[Y/N]! There you are!”

Before you could even blink, your roommate was barrelling into your side, her arms clutching tightly onto you. “Where did you go?” she whined into your hair. “I thought I had lost you.”

In front of you, you watched as Clay tried to stifle a laugh, and you gently pried her off your arm as you let out an awkward laugh. “This is what you get for bringing me to such a busy place and not even trying to stick with me.”

She sent you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I just got so caught up in the rush.” Glancing over to her side, she blinked in surprise. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Clay spoke first. “Ah, no. I actually have to get going in a second.”

Your face wilted. He had to go?

His eyes met yours once more, and he must have sensed your sadness, because not even a second later, he was gently smiling at you.

“But I promise I’ll text you right after.”

Just like that, and you had brightened again. Waving at you, he slipped toward the side of the stage, opening a door that presumably led somewhere backstage. Oh, you thought, maybe he’s working here for the event.

You were pulled away from your staring by your roommate’s tugging at your arm. “[Y/N], who was that? He‘s cute.”

You felt your stomach twist again, but this time, not out of hunger. “You remember the guy I told you saved me from that creep?”

Her eyes widened. “That was him? You didn’t tell me he was so good-looking!” You laughed at the way her grip on your arm tightened. “Did you give him your number? What’s his name?”

“Yes, actually,” you hummed, puffing your chest up in pride, “and his name’s Clay.” Your head spun with dizzy, pink affection. “He’s really sweet.”

Your roommate fell quiet beside you, her fingers suddenly going slack against you. At her silence, you turned to shoot her a confused look. “Did I say something wrong?”

Her face was pale, her eyes as wide as saucers as she blinked blankly. “Y-You said his name was Clay?” she croaked, sounding like she was forcing the words out.

You raised a brow at her. “Uh, yes? Are you oka—”

You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence when the lights in the atrium suddenly grew dim and the room erupted into screams. A single spotlight shone on the front stage, and you watched a brunet man stepped out from behind the crimson red curtains.

“Thank you for your patience, everyone!” he called into his mic, his British accent echoing loudly through the speakers scattered across the room. “It’s been years in the making, but are you all finally ready to meet the world’s most popular Minecraft content creator face-to-face—to finally see the one and only Dream in the flesh?”

The crowd’s screams grew even louder, and you furrowed your brows. Dream? You felt like you recognized that name, but from where, you didn’t have a clue.

You peeked over at your roommate, who was still as pale as a sheet. You were surprised that she wasn’t screaming her own head off. “Aren’t you excited?” you whispered. “Isn’t this the guy you wanted to see?”

She stood stock still, her eyes still trained on the stage with frozen, unwavering attention.

“I already have,” she whispered, sounding absolutely star-struck.

What?

The man on stage smiled at just how loud the audience had grown, and he stepped to the side. “You all certainly sound excited.” Gesturing to the curtains, he dipped into a dramatic bow. “Then, without further ado, here he is!”

In a flash, the spotlight almost seemed to glow even brighter, and the curtains flew to the side. Out stepped a tall, blond man with the most dazzling grin you’d ever seen.

A grin you’d seen twice, now.

All of a sudden, all the pieces suddenly fell into place as Clay took a step forward, waving at the masses. The screams of the crowd had grown to become absolutely deafening, and despite their overwhelming volume, it felt almost like you could hardly hear them at all.

Oh, you thought, the realization sinking deep into your bones. Oh.

So that was why your roommate was absolutely losing her mind, gaping at the stage with nothing short of pure amazement. That was why Clay had seemed so surprised when you told him you didn’t know who this event was even about.

On the stage, Clay’s emerald eyes swept across the audience before landing on you. He must have caught the surprised look on your face, because a split second later, he was sending you a knowing wink from across the room. Someone in the audience screamed at the sight, and you couldn’t stop yourself from winking back, your heart doing a somersault between your lungs.

Maybe you really were luckier than you thought.

[tommyspeakycap]

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

[irridessas]

Pregnancy HC with Poly!DTeam 🥰🙉

Warning: Contains some major fluff and comfort!!

Dream

-He would one hundred percent be the dad to read every single pregnancy and parenting book under the sun

-Spend hours researching vitamins you should be taking, what foods to avoid

-He even gives up caffeine in solidarity with you because he thinks it's unfair that you can't have any

-He 100% fusses over the room they have converted into a nursery, he has changed the colours of the walls a million times, and ordered every single thing that could possibly be needed for the baby's room, to the point that it was over flowing and the amazon delivery driver knew you guys by name.

-Dream is also the one to get up at the early hours of the morning, holding your hair back as you retch into the toilet, the other boys don't even stir from their deep sleep, but Dream is by your side, hair in one hand, the other rubbing sooting circles on your back

George

-George is obsessed with your body, worshipping it at every chance he gets

-Constantly rubbing bio oil and shea butter on your stretch marks because you complained that you couldn't see underneath your fat belly

-If he's standing near you, he'll just hold you, put his hands protectively (but gently) over your tummy

-He also takes it upon himself to give you foot rubs/massages when you're laying down on the couch, he knows that your feet are sore and your ankles are swollen and he would leap at any opportunity to make you feel even a tinier bit better

Sapnap

-Is absolutely the best at appeasing your food cravings, if you want mcdonald's chicken nuggies at 2am, you bet your ass that Sap is in the car by 2:01am

-He also texts you while he's grocery shopping to make sure that he doesn't miss anything you might need or crave

-Sapnap loves to run you baths all the time, knowing how tiring it is to stand up in the shower, he also knows that you're starting to struggle to reach a lot of places, so instead he offers for you to sit back and relax in the bath while he uses a gentle sponge to clean you

All of them

-By some miracle, all of the boys are finally home when the baby kicks, you called out to them, clearly hearing the urgency in your voice the boys come rushing to you in an instant from different points of the house, you place their hands over the bump. Sapnap is proud of this, he says the baby is born to be a soccer player with those kicks. George is in awe, his doe eyes full of wonder and love as his mind tries to wrap around the fact that there is a growing, living thing inside you. Dream being the tallest thinks he can hide his watering eyes from the others, he is so incredibly happy with his expanding family; but you look up at him and catch the sight of a tear sliding down his cheek. You kiss where the tear had fallen, not minding the slightly salty taste, he smiles at you but his cheeks flush knowing that he's been caught crying.

-The ultrasound: They had all debated whether they should find out the gender of the baby or leave it a surprise, you settled the debate by stating that you would find out at the ultrasound, you were sick of Dream changing the painted walls every two seconds and Sapnap constantly trying to think of the best gender neutral baby names. The moment you found out that it was a baby girl, all the boys started cheering. The ultrasound tech was not used to a poly relationship and was startled when all three boys started cheering loudly. The usual nurse you normally saw earlier on in the pregnancy wasn't working today. "Uhh so which one of you is the father?" The nurse's eyes bounced from each of the boys, "Um well..." You started awkwardly.

Bonus: Patches

-She clings to you long before you're even aware that you're pregnant

-The moment you start to think you might be, she starts sleeping on your stomach, purring so loudly you think you feel it throughout your whole body.

-She gets protective over you too, Sapnap tried to move her off your stomach so he could pull you in for kisses but she hissed at him! For the first time ever, he was so offended, but left her on your stomach.

-The moment the baby is born, you're a bit wary of having Patches near the baby, but the second you bring your little baby girl home with you, Patches is like your baby's guardian angel. She is sleeping by your baby's side day and night, only ever leaving her when Patches is busting for the toilet or needs to eat.

[writingtoforgetreality]

Forever & Always An Outsider (Cordell Walker x Daughter!Reader)

[Walker-Masterlist]

Summary: Your dad came back. Finally. But what would he do if he found out how you had been treated? That his family failed to accept your rightful place with them. Your life needed change before you were too far gone.

Words: 2,495

Warnings: language, angst, feels, suffering in silence, losing yourself, most of the Walkers are assholes (I love the actors & their characters, this is just fiction!), I’m incredibly proud of this one (pls tell me what y’all think - requests for Walker & more are open!), (Y/A) = your age, (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were (Y/N) Walker. Through & through. Worthy of that last name. Emily not being your biological mother should not matter, right? It was her who raised you with Cordell. It was her who tucked you in at night. It was her who was there when you woke up in the middle of the night, screaming, because nightmares invaded your peaceful slumber. It was her who you called mom. So why the hell were you different? Why were you not treated the same way Stella & Augie were?

It was not your decision to be the child of one of Cordell’s one night stands. Neither was it your decision to be abandoned by the same woman who had carried you inside of her body for nine months. And it sure as hell was not your decision to be laid at the front porch of the Walker property. A note the only explanation who you were & why you were brought here in the middle of the night. A paternity test later & it was confirmed. You were Cordell’s daughter. Not even once did Emily think any less of you. The same thing for Cordell. Because you were their daughter. Fully. You were their child, as much as Stella & August were. You cried when you received the news of your mother’s passing. Just as much as the rest of the family. Cordell’s decision to leave was just as hard for you as it was for everyone else.

Daily calls had been left unanswered. Who could you possibly talk to if not your dad? Who would listen to your complaints, your pain, your grief, if not him? The years growing up had never been easy for you, there was no denying that. Yet, the second you were left alone with Cordell’s parents & your siblings, your life turned into living hell for you. It had never been kept secret that you were not Emily’s biological child. From early on, the both of them tried to explain your situation to you so you did not feel like they were keeping important information from you. Acceptance was what you needed. But it also was what you did not get. As a kid, of course you would never mention being treated differently. After all, it was your normal. It was something you got used to. Your parents seemed oblivious to the dirty glances that your grandparents threw your way. They did not notice that they spent more time with your siblings. Growing up in such a household, where support was only partly given, changed you as you got older. You were (Y/A) years old now. Old enough that the realization had kicked in. The reason why they treated you like an outsider was simple. Because you were one. An outsider.

You could not hide the disappointment you felt towards your dad when he returned. He left you. During a time where it felt like your head was underwater. Where you felt like you were drowning. And everybody watching you did not lift a finger to help you out of the dark & endless water surrounding your weak & broken body. No. They were busy dealing with everything on their own. Leaving you out entirely. Your dad was back. Finally. And as much as you hated him for leaving, your relief was bigger than the negativity that had been eating inside of you. Again, a person you connected to on a deeper level was with you. The only soul who accepted you. As you were. No friendships ever ended working out. The relationship with the rest of your family did not need any more discussing.

All those months of you keeping to yourself did not change a single thing. Your voice had only been used when someone had explicitly directed their words at you. Why bother talking to them? The only thing you had ever received was weird look after weird look. Hell, you had months alone to grieve. The hours you had spent crying in your room, all alone in the middle of the night, had not helped dealing with your loss. It was true, you were not the only one in this family who had lost someone. The difference was that you were the only one who had been left alone. Because the moment Cordell left, your support system went with him. The one thing you had never learned was being alone & staying alive.

An unnatural feeling was inside your home the day your dad arrived here. If you took a sharp knife, you could cut the tension precisely. But Cordell tried. His efforts did not go unnoticed by you. A small smile, a simple touch. Your way of acknowledging his attempts. The change in your family was noticeable. Connecting with his parents, with Stella & Augie, was not easy. Not at all. You, on the other hand, you were a changed person entirely. Not the funny, joyful girl you had once been. More like a closed book, encrypted with a lock. The key long gone, getting rusty at the bottom of a deep, lurid river.

Conversations over dinner were held briefly. Your dad being the only one to start them by things he remembered you guys liked. The burning need inside of you to talk to him was pushed down further. The looks you would receive were not really what you anticipated. But nobody knew. The silent battle you had been fighting for the last months had been ignored. Had your dad been here, he would have noticed something was off. Right away. A look in your (Y/E/C) eyes was all it took. But that was the past. This person had died a long time ago. Worrying was all that could be done for the time being. If you were to talk, you would come to him yourself. No need for him to force you into a situation you were highly uncomfortable in.

The bags under your eyes were present. The light in your eyes completely gone. Like the last ounce of strength had been sucked out of your body. Your clothes did not fit the way they used to. Loose hoodies, even looser pants. Your form slowly disappearing. Not only feeling like you were unseen, but actually becoming invisible. There was not a single moment of the day where you were fully awake. You had not been sleeping much. Something your dad could relate to. Most nights, he spent in company with a bottle of whiskey. The only friend to numb the pain for a little while. Alcohol was not your solution. Did not mean that yours was any healthier.

It had become a routine for you. Waiting until the house was sound asleep. Your mind the only one being awake. Your thoughts the only ones running miles & miles per hour. Eventually, you always found yourself seated outside, on top of the roof. Being a bit closer to the stars aligning the night sky. Being a bit closer to her. Others might find it silly. You talking into the night, waiting for some echo of the past. Waiting for a sign that she heard you. Your complaints. Your pain. Your grief. Your love. Spending hours crying. Begging for her to make it stop. Begging for them to love you the way she used to.

The cold breeze hit your exposed skin. A sign that your body still reacted to certain things. Texas nights were chilly. A nice contrary to the heat that dragged itself through most days. A hoodie would do. Some sweatpants. But you needed the goosebumps. Needed them to remind you that you were still here. Still breathing. You owed it to your mom. To keep fighting. Because she did not have the chance to anymore. Tears were threatening to escape your glossy eyes. You would not let them fall. Deep down, you knew she would want you to be strong. Not to cry over her. Because of her. But it was so hard. Each day, the weight got heavier. Each day, you lost yourself a bit more. There was only so much a single person could take. To you, it felt like the limit was almost reached. Soon, you would overflow. Who knew what would happen if you let it get that far?

“Your mom used to love that place.” a soft but deep voice interrupted the peaceful silence that encircled your body. Looking over your shoulder to find your dad standing only mere feet away from you.

“Really?” the pain could be heard through your small voice. Broad shoulders touched yours.

“She was up here when she needed time to think.” elbows propped up on his knees. You could brush him off. Pretending to be fine. Explaining that fresh air was all you needed. That you would head inside in a minute. Truthfully, you did not want to do any of this. The fight had been going on for too long. You were close to losing it. This was a sign that, maybe, you were not yet at the end. That, maybe, there was still enough time to get up & start anew. Talking alone felt like too much effort. It required too much strength. Strength that you did not have. Not anymore.

“Something happened to you while I was gone.” the statement left a tension between you. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.” his eyes took in your side profile. You did not dare to look at him. It meant risking to break into tears. The tears you had been holding in for so long.

“I don’t even know myself anymore.” as a father, hearing your child say such words, it broke his heart. Into a million pieces. The universe did not give him a break. First Emily. Now you. Yes, you were alive. But watching you disappear right in front of his eyes hurt just as much.

“Talk to me.” his words were not an order. If you wanted to, you could up & leave. Right this instant. Something told you to stay. He was here, after all. Your dad. And he cared enough to look out for you. More than the others had done these past few months.

“I always wondered if mom & you noticed.” your eyes were focused on a branch that wavered in the far distance. The leaves pushed from one side to the other, controlled by the wind. There was no interruption. If you needed to get something off your chest, then the most Cordell could do was listen. Making you feel as if you were not alone. As if he was not leaving you. Not again. Because he was not.

“Grandma & grandpa have never looked at me the way they look at Stella. At Augie. To them, I was never their grandchild. I was just there. I was never an equal. And I was fine with it, you know? Because I had mom. I had you. And that was all the support I needed. Then mom died. And you left. And suddenly, it felt like there was nobody I could talk to. Nobody who could hug me to make me feel at least a tiny bit better. They were this tight-knit group. And I was alone.” the steadiness, the monotony in your voice was scary. To you, it had been your normal for the longest time. Cordell knew that it was partly his fault. Leaving you during one of the hardest times in your life was plainly wrong. No apology could ever bring back the time you had lost.

“I’m sorry.” it was not much. Definitely not enough. Definitely not what you deserved. Yet, it was all that could be given to you in this moment. A strong, muscular arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his warm body. The heat of his form immediately transferring to your skin. His embrace was a safe haven. His cologne so familiar. You had missed him. So much. Only when he touched you were you overwhelmed by every single emotion you had ignored for the last couple of months. Silent tears made their way down your cheeks, leaving a salty taste at the corners of your mouth.

“It’s fine.” one thing had not changed. Always making sure that others would not worry about you. People knew you for your fierce & strong personality. It was not too late to get the old you back. With much work, much love & support, you could change for the better again.

“It’s not.” Cordell knew you were one to carry everything on your own. That trait was given to you from him. He recalled how Emily had mentioned it when you were a small child. The one thing you always did was putting others first, forgetting about yourself in the process. That was something the both of you had to work on. Something the both of you needed to improve. The start would make him talking to the rest of the family. Now that he knew about your daily struggles, he made it his job to do everything to change it. For your sake. Because that was what Emily would have wanted. It was what he wanted for you. All of your years, you had been nothing but kind & loving towards his parents, Stella & August. The kindness you shared with them was not necessary. You had been treated wrongly for years & Cordell blamed himself for being too blind to see clearly.

Again, silence enveloped you & neither of you talked. It was comforting. Him being back. Him wanting to help. He hugged you close to him. Squeezing your shoulders every now & then. A simple sign of letting you know that he was still here. With you.

“I’ll talk to them.” if it were not for the night to be so calm, you would have missed his words entirely. “I’ll make this right.” this was a silent promise. A promise that he would stay. A promise that you no longer had to keep your grief locked inside. A promise that your family would be just that. A family. A family who treated each other equally. Loved each other endlessly. Supported each other whenever it was possible. Maybe it was the scene you found yourself in. The almost black night sky, illuminated by the moon, by thousands of little stars. Showing you that there were a million small reasons for a light in a mass of darkness. Bits & pieces of hope. Maybe this was your sign. The sign you had waited for every night. The sign from your mom. Telling you that it was worth fighting for. Worth fighting for the little things. Because each of those were beautiful in their own way. Each of those deserved appreciation. Each of those could brighten up the dark life you found yourself in. And light was all you needed right now.

Published (03/26/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @fofisstilinski, @geekgirl007, @spnwoman, @acklessnackles, @the-soul-witch, @multifandomlover121, @missmaam123, @delicatecelebritiesarthairdo (thanks for your support <3/sorry if I mistakenly tagged you, please let me know if I did)

[sakurology]

I just came across you nsfw with Osamu and I really enjoyed it I was wondering if You could do one for Kita?

Hi love! This is for u 💕 and all the kita fuckers worldwide- myself included bc I’m in love with him now 🥺

NSFW Alphabet - Kita Shinsuke

Nsfw below da cut g

gn!reader focus in this hoe

A/n: ty @honey-makki for being my partner in degeneracy and my wife ilysm bc she can read when I can’t

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

Will feed you a full meal. His way of making sure you’re cared for is keeping you well fed. He will cuddle you and spoon feed you himself if he has to, as long as you eat every single bite. He has a routine for everything, aftercare is no exception. He runs you a bath, then, while you soak, he cooks. Will make sure to throw a hoodie in the dryer before heading to the kitchen so it'll be warm for you post shower. Then he feeds you and holds you, playing with your hair or your hands until you fall asleep.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

You already know what the fuck is going onnnn! Kita is honestly so well sculpted that it really doesn’t matter but let’s talk about his back/shoulders. He’s so mf broad and it's very sexc of him. He’s also very fond of when you cling onto and scratch it up…. delicious

He loves your hands. He loves to hold them, especially when he’s looking straight into your eyes as he drills the hell out of you- he’ll lift one up and kiss it bc ✨romance✨

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Oh he’s going to fill you so full of cum that it pours out of your ears. He has a big breeding kink, and huge loads to match. But he’s also very healthy and takes good care of himself so his cum isn’t bad on your tongue on the off chance he hasn’t already cum inside you 600 times prior to finally doing so in your mouth. And he’s going to kiss you after- very sexc of him.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Lost his virginity in a barn. Got a tick on his ass of all places. The barn isn’t the secret tho... the tick is.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

When you got together- he was definitely a virgin. Had only gone as far as MAYBE second base. But you used that to your advantage, because you’ve essentially built him up and trained him to be PERFECT for you. You also helped him find out what he likes and what makes him feel good too. Sure there was a lil’ corruption involved, but in the end you’re both very happy with your sex life.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Full on mf wrestling mating press. He’s going to have his cock so deep inside of you that if he even pushed a bit more his body is gonna go in too. Then he’ll just live there. He’s fine with that.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Unintentionally so. Every once in a while, you’ll both giggle or laugh because you have to reposition when you start to cramp up or you accidentally hit him in the face when tying to pull him closer or something. But he’s a firm believer in the whole “if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with you shouldn’t have sex with them” addage, so he’s very grateful for those light moments.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

It could definitely be neater. He isn’t abysmal, but he is hairy and could stand to trim a tiiiny bit more often. He’s just very low maintenance down there. As long as it’s clean he's good, which is both true and a decent place to start but pls tell him to get a little off the top of you know what I mean.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈y

He’s! So! Loving! He’s always going to go the extra mile to make you feel special. He likes to keep things on the softer side I’d say 8/10 times. He prefers to make love instead of just fucking it out- but if you get into an argument or he’s frustrated, he will happily go hard… but still with candles and a massage. Also I said it already but he’s gonna hold your hands while he demolishes you- interlaced fingers and all that cute shit even tho you’re getting railed.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

His grandma is one of those old ladies that’s like “don’t do that you’ll go blind,” so poor baby was a lil pent up before he got older. Now, he still doesn't do it often, but he does it once a month or so as part of his routine. He uses coconut oil because he likes the smell and that it melts easily.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Breeding, listen it’s just embedded in country boys to fuck and fill. He is no exception.

Spanking, moreso as a way to direct you. Moving too much? slap to stay still. Changing positions? Slap to get you moving. Just wants to see you jiggle? Yeah that too. Motivational slaps also come into play when he wants you to know you’re doing a good job.

Auralism, He LOVES to hear you. The sound of your breath, your moans, the way you chant his name when you’re close… he eats that shit up. It feeds his ego and boosts his pride. He also makes a lot of noise himself, mostly really deep moans but there’s a sprinkling of praise throughout too.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He needs privacy. So he’s definitely one to want to keep it at home or at least somewhere secluded and away, where he knows only you and him are there and will know about it.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He doesn’t care how he does it, but his number one priority, is making sure that you cum. Kita is a giver. And he will make sure to give you whatever you want from him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He’s not into SUPER rough stuff. He’s not vanilla, but he is the kind of guy that sees sex as “lovemaking” so he’s not gonna punch you in the face or throw you around like a ragdoll. It’s just not his style. Of course if it's what you want, he will… but never expect him to ever bring it up or do so on his own.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Ok so- he's… teachable. I’m not gonna lie, he would start off as absolute trash. But the good thing about him is how adaptable he is, and how willing he is to learn. You’d have to have him work at it a lot but once he gets good he’s great. He’ll love the feeling of accomplishment he gets from you getting off with only his mouth- it does wonders for his pride.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s very even- until he starts to get close. When he’s close he’s going to speed up so much that you have to brace yourself against anything that’ll hold you. He is definitely a headboard grabber too.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He likes to take his time with you. For that reason, he isn’t a huge fan. You would really have to convince him that it's worth it. He doesn’t see the point in instant gratification, and thinks you should be patient. Good things come to those who wait and all that Kita stop being so stoic and rail me at the farmers market challenge

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Lmfao you think this mans is really gonna go for a public or semi-public scene? Think again. Now, he’s into sex outdoors sure, but only in your fenced in, enclosed backyard. He’s not letting anyone see you point blank periodt, you’re for his eyes only.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Excellent self control. He can hold off on cumming for as long as you need him to. Usually he’ll tap out himself after you’ve gotten through at least 3 of your own highs- but his record is 6. Has a super long refractory period tho- so he does things this way to make sure you get everything you need in one go.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He actually likes using toys on you. He has a bunch of different plugs and vibes that he uses to suit the situation. He prefers to use a hitachi wand on you while he’s fucking you, but all the others he uses for foreplay- or after to keep you full to the brim of his cum.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

You both tease each other absentmindedly. He doesn’t know why he gets so turned on by you scrubbing the floor on all fours (that’s why), but he does. He also doesn’t understand why you think its hot when he cuts firewood in winter or wipes his forehead with his shirt during the summer. He thinks he’s gross and sweaty- but you can only think of a million other ways to make him sweatier.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Listen we stan. He’s not quiet in bed by any means, but he’s not overly loud either. He’s the type who takes deep breaths and then on the exhale let’s out a moan from deep in his chest- you know the one. And he does that shit on purpose. Not really, but he does think of it as his way of letting you know that he feels as good as you feel. Will also 100% hit you with the “is that it baby? Is that the spot?” While you’re practically turning into jello underneath him bc he absolutely knows that’s the spot he just likes to make you say it.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

Wants to recreate the sex scene from tthe notebook with you. He can’t explain why, he just has an unexplainable urge to suck your face off in the rain and then proceed to raw you after peeling all the damp clothes from your body. Please oblige him.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s got the thickness. Not coke Can thickness but like… you remember the Alaskan bull worm from ep of SpongeBob? Well he’s the whole worm, not just the tongue. I’m going to hell for that reference but ya he has a nice dick. The perfect thickness and and I’ll say a pretty good 5.5-6 inches worth. It’s also very veiny on the underside which- yes I love that.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Normal sex drive, since you tend to do it at least 2 times a week. He only seems to get a little needier when you CAN’T have sex regularly- ie, one of you is sick or you’re away from each other. When that happens, he’s a little edgier than usual, can snap sometimes but not often.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s the type to get a second wind after. He’ll only go to sleep after he makes sure all your aftercare needs are met, and even then, he’s only going to power-nap it for maybe 10mins. He’ll stay still and cuddle you while you sleep, but he’ll most likely watch tv or scroll through his phone while you enjoy his warmth. Every once in awhile he’ll give you a kiss while you stir.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith @tsumue @disasteren @hoe4abbacchio @sillykittt @ukaisbaby

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [18]

Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 18.5 OR Chapter 19

➜ Words: 4.5k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

It’s funny how things come and go in life.   The longer you live and the more things you experience, you realize just how fickle living can be. The events that you anticipate the most come and go while the ones you dread linger. The people you expect to stay with you leave — and the people you expect to leave end up staying.    Similarly, the internship that you had been so worried and excited for was finally finished.    It was sad to say goodbye and to leave the shop behind. You genuinely loved being there, learning and spending your time perfecting your craft. Even bratty Yuna was sad to bid you farewell — the two of you had grown fond of each other over the months, so you sent her a card right when you got home yourself and you heard from Namjoon that she had pinned it on her wall.   Luckily, you knew that this goodbye wouldn’t be a permanent one. It was different to other goodbyes you’ve had in the past.    Namjoon and Sejeong assured both you and Jungkook a million times that it was only temporary — that they’d be happy to hire you back after your schooling is finished if you so happened to choose to work for them again. And it’s a proposition that still interests you greatly. You’re not sure what Jungkook wants to do — but you know you’d love to return and continue making wedding cakes under their mentorship someday.   But for now you had to return on your path.   The end of Summer was quickly approaching, and you find yourself coming back to where it started.   Well. Sort of.   In actuality, you were standing on Jungkook’s parents’ doorstep. Suitcase in hand. Full of hesitance and uncertainty. Fingers kept away from the doorbell. You’re not sure if this is a place that would welcome you again. But Jungkook had insisted. He pressed on, insisting that you should visit his family again, to at least come see him for a few days with the Summer that remained left.   He whined about how much he missed you. And you had to admit, you missed him too.   So here you were, like a complete idio—   “God, okay! I’m throwing out the trash now!”   The door opens.    The boy freezes. He stares at you with rounded eyes as you stare back at him. He’s dressed in a worn t-shirt and gym shorts, flopping hair sticking out in all directions like he just woke up even though it’s well past noon. One hand is on the handle, the other is holding a black garbage bag.   Slowly the corner of your mouth quirks. “Hi.”   A stupidly big grin plasters across Jungkook’s face and spreads into his cheeks as his eyes light up with mirth. Jungkook’s voice softens. “When’d you get here?”   “Just now.”   He drops the garbage and is about to come and hug you, but something shoots out from between his legs to engulf you in a tight embrace instead.   “Y/N!” Eunbi’s summer dress flutters in the breeze and you lift her up as best as you can with a smile.   Lia follows quickly behind, wearing a big smile and she turns over her shoulder. “Y/N’s here!”   “She’s here?” Someone comes stumbling from the kitchen, throwing her kitchen towel aside.   Jungkook’s dad comes out from the backyard, having heard the ruckus. “She’s here.”   “She’s here!” Eunbi repeats in giggles and your arms widen when Lia joins in greeting you with a hug.   Jungkook sighs wistfully, separated from you by his overbearing family members.   Yet, all the worries you had about being welcomed or not instantly vanishes.   They greet you warmly — Jungkook’s dad asking how you’ve been, how exams and classes and the internship was. You’re bombarded with curious questions and enthusiastic answers, only spared when Jungkook’s mom pulls you to the kitchen where she has a whole countertop of food prepared.   She wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, so she made everything she could when she heard you were coming and you can’t find it in your heart to reject her hard efforts. So you consume as much as you can before Eunbi tugs you aside to join her tea party with Lia. You find out their parents have gone for a last-minute trip, so they’ve been staying at their aunt’s and uncle’s, obviously having a blast by the looks of it, especially now with you here.   It’s only when Jungkook turns on a Disney movie and makes them sit down to watch that he’s finally able to sneak you away.   “Sorry about that.”   He shuts the door to his room, sighing at how difficult it was to get a hold of you in his own house.   “It’s okay. I love your family.”   “That makes one of us,” Jungkook mutters and sulks. “You try spending twenty four hours a day seven days a week with them and see how they can drive you nuts.”   “Aww, poor baby. Your family cares about you, how horrible.” Your voice drips of sarcasm and you feign sympathy, reaching over to pat him on the back.    Jungkook scoffs but takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you. He leans down enough to accommodate for the height difference and he props his chin on your shoulder. His nose digs into your hair, breathing in. You’re ticklish from his grip. “Jungkook…”   “I missed you.”   “It’s only been what?” You rest your head on his shoulder, giving into his warmth. “Two weeks?”   “Long enough.”   “School starts in another week. If I didn’t come, you still would’ve seen me.”   “Yeah, but what if I died before then and couldn’t see you ever again?” he whines and it’s hard to resist the small smile tugging at your lips.   But you manage to pull away from him and roll your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”   The boy grins and takes a seat on his chair by his old computer desk while you plop down onto the edge of his bed. “So….what have you been up to?”   “You act like we haven’t called and texted each other every single day.”   “Yeah, but I don’t know what the trip was like up here.”   “Fair enough,” you hum. “I guess all that really happened is that I sat next to this really handsome man on the bus here who shared my interests and hobbies. And we had a hot, passionate summer fling and we decided to make this a long-term thing, so we’re getting married. Sorry to say, Jeon, but you’ve lost your chance.”   You laugh and his eye twitches.    In an instant, you’re being pinned to his mattress with Jungkook hovering above you. His knee wedges between your legs, hands pressed flat next to your head. The dark strands of his hair grazes against your forehead and you sink deeper into his pillows. But even in such a compromising position, you can’t help but muse how cute he looks feigning anger like this.   “I’m trying to be nice here, but you’re always testing my patience, brat. You really think I won’t kill you one day?”   “You wouldn’t.” You quirk your head to the side, hands grasping at his forearms. Your eyes glimmer with a challenge before they flicker up to the posters lining his wall. “Not with IU watching.”   He grins, a small laugh coming from his nose. “Jieun would understand.”   You snort and he helps you sit up. “Do your parents know…?”   “No. Otherwise, you’d be on the phone with my grandma right now. They’re overbearing enough as it is.”   You nod. “They don’t think it’s weird that I’m here?”   “No.” Jungkook scoffs. “God, they love you. Isn’t it obvious? They think you’re a ‘good influence’ on me. Better than Taehyung and Jimin are, at least. Those two are just idiots no matter where they go, so my parents are always concerned that all of us will get into fender benders.”   He uses air quotes when he says ‘good influence’ and you bat his arm. “I am a good influence on you.”   “Uh-huh.” Jungkook eyes you skeptically. “They should see you when you get mad—”   “I don’t get mad.”   “—and when you start swearing. Or the amount of dirty, dirty things you can say…”   “Jungkook,” your whine tapers off when he suddenly lays a hand on your upper thigh. Jungkook’s half-lidded eyes and heavy gaze flickers down to your lips. He starts to lean in, head angling and your breath catches in your throat in eager anticipation. Your eyes flutter shut.   But you never feel the velvet texture of Jungkook’s lips against yours.    Instead, there’s a loud knock that startles you both to death. Then, the door opens. And the boy, whose lap you were nearly perched on, is already back on his desk chair, whirling around.   “Hey, Y/N.” Jungkook’s dad is smiling wide. “What are you guys up to?”   “We’re just talking,” his son deadpans. “Is there something you need?”   “Nope.” The middle-aged man who uncannily has Jungkook’s eyes leans on the doorframe with arms crossed casually. “Just thought I’d pop by, see what’s going on, let you know your mom thinks you two can bring Lia and Eunbi into town to pick up some groceries….”   “Okay. We can do that later.”   There’s a terrible, awkward silence as Jungkook’s dad hangs around. It makes the younger frown. “Is there something wrong?”   “No.” He shakes his head, slowly starting to turn away before Jungkook dies in modification. But then he stops and looks back with a smile playing at his lips. “You guys should keep the door open though. House policy. Not mine but your mother’s. You know...she doesn’t want any funny business happening.”   “Dad.”   “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” His hands are lifted up in the air and he laughs it off. The older man pushes the door so it’s wide open and then waltzes away.   Jungkook’s sigh is long enough to empty out his lungs and you giggle at their interaction.   The walk to town is lovely. The end of Summer keeps the weather from sweltering or being uncomfortable. It’s warm with a brisk wind kissing against your cheeks.   You consider just how cozy this town is, small houses and big lawns, white picket fences and scalloped shingle rooftops. The grocery store is modest too and several people greet Jungkook when he enters, asking how he’s been and if you're someone special to him.   It’s a place where everyone knows everyone and it’s cute. You never considered Jungkook to be a small town boy, but it’s somehow fitting.   “We need to get apples, cucumbers, scallions….” He flips over the list, trying to discern his mom’s chicken scratch as he pushes the shopping cart. “Uh…..that either says potatoes or tomatoes.”   “Can we get this?!” Eunbi holds up a box bigger than her body. The doll inside is smiling.   Jungkook doesn’t even glance at it. “No.”   “Awww.”   The four of you walk down the cereal aisle and Jungkook stops for a detour. He picks two to compare and concentrates too hard for such a menial task. “I didn’t know cereal was on our list,” you say while peeking over his shoulder.   “I like cereal,” he mumbles.   In spite of taking a full minute on deliberating what brand he wants, Jungkook ends up settling for both. He places them into the cart and continues pushing it down the aisle while humming. You keep a watch on Eunbi in the meanwhile to make sure she doesn’t get lost, but soon Lia comes back with something in hand. “Y/N, can we please make this together?”   The seven year old has a bright, red box of chewy fudge brownie mix. Automatically, you and Jungkook’s faces twist in abhorrent disgust.   “It says we just need...egg, water, and oil!” she reads off of it proudly.   “No, we don’t need a box to make brownies,” you coax with a smile. “We can make it fresher. A few more steps and it’ll taste worlds better than the box.”   “Really?”   “Really.”   “Yay!” Eunbi’s loudly cheering in the middle of the grocery store, arms in the air and hopping up and down. “We get brownies!”   “What’s even in here?” Jungkook takes the box and flips it around. His eyes narrow in on the tiny letters of the ingredient list. “Sugar, enriched bleached wheat flour? What’s carrageenan? Pft, artificial flavour?” He arrogantly tosses it aside. “We don’t need that. We’re professionals.”   You snort. “Uh-huh. A professional who doesn’t even know how to make a moist cake.”   “At least I can temper chocolate,” he bites back without skipping a beat — without blinking or taking a breath. When Jungkook sees your shocked expression, he laughs heartily and throws an arm over your shoulder, nuzzling into you. “I’m kidding. Kidding.”   You scoff, throw his arm off of you. “No, you aren’t.”   “Are you fighting?” Eunbi grabs a hold of your shirt, tugging lightly.   “Only because Jungkook is mean,” you tell with an exaggerated pout.   It’s his turn to be offended. “You just said my cakes weren’t moist!”   You ignore him. “Let’s go, children. We don’t interact with bullies.”   Lia and Eunbi giggle, happy to go along with you and leave Jungkook in the dust, scrambling to roll the shopping cart behind you.   Eventually, the groceries are paid for and the walk back turns out to be equally enjoyable.    Once the four of you arrive back to the house, his parents are out working in the garden, so you and Jungkook put away the groceries together and pull out the necessary ingredients for brownies.   “We can probably make two batches.”   “I wanna do it with Y/N!” Lia immediately exclaims, jumping to your side. She leaves her younger sister frowning and on the verge of tears.   “No, I wanna!”   “How about me?” Jungkook stands in the middle of his own kitchen at a complete loss. It causes laughter to bubble from you.   “Okay, all three of us can do it together and we can verse Jungkook. How about that?”   They nod and Lia tells her cousin that he’s going down, teasing him mercilessly and you indulge them about how you’re better than Jungkook in everything at school — something he adamantly protests about.   Soon, all of you get to work. You teach them how to preheat the oven, grease the pans, and watch as the half cup of butter is melted in a saucepan. Lia and Eunbi help you measure out one cup of sugar and they each crack an egg into the butter.    Three quarter cups of cocoa are shifted into the mixture along with a half cup of flour, a quarter teaspoon of salt and a quarter teaspoon of baking powder. You show the two girls how to fold the ingredients gently together and you catch them a moment before they’re about to spoon the batter into their mouths.   They give stretching smiles and you help them spread it into a pan instead to bake.   It’s put in for half an hour, slightly underdone so it’s sweet and still gooey.   “It smells wonderful in here,” Jungkook’s mom gasps as she enters, taking off her garden gloves and wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “Did you make something special?”   “Look auntie!” Eunbi is jumping, hands jittery, on a sugar high. “We made brownies!”   “Did you now?” She peers over the counter, brows raising. “My goodness, they look amazing.”   “We helped make them with Y/N,” Lia announces, mouth smeared in chocolate.   “Did you thank Y/N yet for showing you how to make them?”   Both girls instantly whirl around, thanking you with bashful and shy smiles. In the meanwhile, Jungkook’s mom is unable to resist and reaches over for a brownie. She groans at the taste and smacks her lips together.    “Don’t eat too much or it’ll ruin your appetite,” she says — much like how Jungkook often reminds you — and ironically bites into her brownie again. The woman turns to you. “These are delicious, dear.”   “They weren’t too hard to make.”   “You should show me the recipe, I’d love to bake these again.”   “I’ve made these before!” Jungkook complains in a higher pitched voice, eating his own brownies when no one takes them out of his pan.   But no one pays mind to him. Not his mother or his twirling cousins. “Of course, I can.”   You, on the other hand, do pay attention to Jungkook. You grin at him as he glares. And only later when there’s a moment of privacy will he tickle you as revenge for making his entire family love you more than him. It’s then that he finally gets the chance to kiss you too.   //   Dinner with the Jeon family is as you would expect it to be. Everyone inhales all the food and chit chats with one another. There’s warm banter shared across the dinner table as his parents make him talk about the trip to Tahiti, how the internship was and if he was on his best behaviour.   He gives you discreet, defeated looks to show how he’s so done with them and it’s hard to stifle your giggles.   Afterwards, you help him do the dishes as his cousins turn on a movie to watch and his parents finish off the brownies you made. Not long after that, everybody begins to retreat to their rooms.   “Aw, do we have to go to bed?”   “Yes. Don’t you want to help plant the flowers tomorrow?” Jungkook’s mom smooths out her hair. “Only big girls can help and you can only get big if you sleep and get strong.”   “Okay.” Lia sulks. “But can I at least say goodnight to Y/N?”   “Yes.” The older woman offers a rather maternal smile. “You can.”   Lia runs to you down the hall right as you leave the bathroom with your toothbrush in hand, catching you off guard. She hugs you tight. “Goodnight, Y/N!”   Eunbi is hot on her sister’s heels and you stumble back when she throws herself at you too. “Night, night, Y/N!”   “Goodnight, you two.”   “Can we play tomorrow?”   You ruffle the five year old’s hair. “Course we can.”   She beams and hops back, following her aunt. Her uncle is already inside their room, holding up books. “Who’s ready for story time?”   “Me!” Lia runs off and waves to you.   At the same time, Jungkook leaves his room to see their retreating forms and scoffs. “Wow, are they not going to wish me a goodnight?”   You slap his arm, laughing. “Stop being so jealous all the time. I can’t help that I’m so lovable.”   He scoffs and affectionately pokes your forehead with his index finger. “I can’t even argue with that.” The corner of his mouth curls and you grin.   Jungkook has that look in his eyes — the one you’ve learnt to recognize. He looks like he wants to kiss you, like he’s about to do it too, but the pair of you are interrupted by someone lingering in the hallway.   “Y/N, you’re sleeping in the guest bedroom, right?”   His mom looks at you and you nod quickly. “Yes, I am.”   “Good.” She relaxes and bobs her head. “Jungkook, you go back to your room now. There’s a long day tomorrow.”   He sighs, but doesn’t argue.   Jungkook turns right back around into his room and keeps the door slightly open for a second, enough to give you an incredulous look. It makes you smile and mouth ‘goodnight’ to him before he shuts the door.   His mom brings you to the guest bedroom, helping you set up for the night and asking if you need extra blankets and pillows.   “Are you sure everything’s okay?”   “Yes, it is. Thank you, Mrs. Jeon.”   “If you’re ever cold, feel free to grab anything from the closet.” When you nod, she gets to the door. Jungkook’s mom is about to turn off the light, but lingers. She twists around to share a smile with you. “Thank you for coming, Y/N. I’m glad to see you again.”   “No, thank you.” You’re caught off guard by her words of gratitude. “Honestly, I didn’t want to be such a bother.”   “You aren’t. Trust me.” She laughs, a tinkling sound emitting from her chest. “I’ve always wanted a daughter like you. Jungkook is two more handfuls than I can handle sometimes, especially when he was young.” The older woman shakes his head with a fond expression. “He might not look like it but he’s still very much a child. I worry about him being gone so far for so long out of the entire year. So, I’m glad there’s someone like you looking out for him.”   You’re touched by her sincerity, but you can’t help but feel like she’s gotten it wrong.   You awkwardly shift your weight from one foot to the other. “Mrs. Jeon—”   “You can call me auntie, if you’d like.”   You nod timidly. “Jungkook actually looks out for me a lot more than I do for him. He really helped me through a lot of tough times, so really, I should be the one thanking him….”   She smiles, the wrinkles around her eyes creasing. “Then I’m even more grateful that Jungkook’s not hopeless. It’s good that the two of you have one another.”   Part of you wants to tell her that you’re unequivocally in love with her son. But by the twinkle in her eye, you get a sense that she already knows the true nature between you and Jungkook.   You don’t need to say it aloud or make any announcements.   Her smile becomes more tender in the small silence and then she finally bids you a goodnight, flicking off the lights in the room.   You end up laying there for a while. You receive Jungkook’s text telling you this is so dumb and you laugh. The bright lights of your phone eventually burns your eyes too much, so you throw it aside, opting to stare at the ceiling and listen to his house.   You can hear doors closing, footsteps, the flicker of the hallway light turning off and more doors closing. Silence settles in for a good ten minutes, but before you can completely drift off to sleep, your door cracks open.   A familiar boy sneaks into your room with a soft sigh. He shuts the door silently and nimbly avoids all the creaks in the floorboards, knowing where each of them are after growing up and spending his childhood in these four walls.   “You’re not supposed to be here.” You sit up, covers pooling around your waist.   His feet slide and the mattress dips underneath his weight. “And I care because…?”   You scoff. “Rebellious, aren’t you, Jeon?”   “You don’t even know the start of it.” He grins. “I just want to lay with you for a while. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”   “But your parents don’t know that. What happens if they catch you here?” you ask while peeling back the covers anyhow, happily inviting him in.   “Nothing will happen. It’s okay.”   “Yeah, but they might hate me...for tainting their son.”   “Impossible.” Jungkook settles in and pulls the covers up to keep you warm. You cuddle yourself into him and he props his chin on top of your head. “And they don’t care about that. They just don’t want any Jeon grandkids, or at least not until we graduate.”   “Psh. You’re going to have to prove yourself before you implant anything in my uterus, Jeon.”   His nose wrinkles at your euphemism, but then he pokes your side, making you squirm. “Prove myself? Haven’t I already?”   “Just cause I let you kiss me a few times doesn’t mean I have plans to make this long-term,” you tease and this time he’s the one scoffing.    Jungkook rolls on top of you, pinning you underneath him. The soft glow of the lamp posts outside on the suburban street comes through the window and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you’re able to discern a few of his features — especially that sulking expression of his.   Jungkook’s such a baby sometimes. Or at least he likes to be babied by you. Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin would shit themselves if they saw him now. But it makes you happy to be the only one who can see this endearing side of him.   “What more do you want to put me through, hmm?”   You cock your head to the side. “Who knows, you might just get bored of me in a few weeks, Jeon. Better not to jump the gun.”   “I don’t think so. What do you take me for? Someone with that low of an attention span?”   “Well…” You draw out the syllable. “Last I checked, you still don’t know how to make flowers with gum paste.”   His tongue clicks in annoyance and he starts to tickle you again at your weakest parts. You squirm underneath him, giggling as your legs kick to no avail. It makes the bed squeak, the headboard hitting against the wall and Jungkook laughs and quickly lets up. He covers your mouth with his palm. “Shush! You’re going to wake them up.”   You peel off his hand, harshly whispering, “You started it.”   Jungkook’s smile is big enough to make his cheeks hurt. He missed you — your company, warmth, the teasing banter. It’s hard to fathom that his best friend is actually here with him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.   Jungkook leans down, locking his lips against yours. Your soft mouths slots against each other like it’s the way it always should have been and he relishes in the groan you release.    It’s a gentle kiss, one that merely tests the waters and then he pulls away.   You blink up at him, breath leaving through your parted lips that now taste like his vanilla chapstick. “No funny business, remember?”   “I know.” Jungkook gets off of you, resuming his place by your side. “But I wasn’t planning any ‘funny business’. Where has your mind gone too?”   Your cheeks heat. “I’m just saying.”   He chuckles softly, arm slung across your waist. You’re pulled close as he nestles in. It’s easy to relax and your hand lifts to wrap around his back. The both of you hold each other for a while in the comfortable darkness underneath the cozy covers. You’re lulled in his company.   “Jungkook.”   “Hmm?”   “You can’t fall asleep here.”   “I know,” he mumbles.   But contrary to Jungkook’s words, he does fall asleep with you — sharing the same bed like those nights in Tahiti. Only in the morning, when dawn breaks and the morning light comes through the glass windows are you both naturally shaken awake.    It’s then that Jungkook scratches his bed hair flopping in all directions, eyes swollen as he stumbles back to his own bedroom. And you drift back to sleep with a softened smile on your face.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okayyyy chappy seven 🤩 Here we goooo 🥳

Lord, Katniss always had nightmares 😭 even before the games, between her father’s death, her mother’s abandonment and the other traumatizing things she saw in her life, my girl never slept peacefully a day in her life 🥺.

She even indicates that she sometimes has nightmares about past hunger games 😭😭😭. Someone protect my smol child. Please. Someone.... Someone? Anyone? No? Okay 🥺

“I bolt up screaming for my father to run as the mine explodes into a million deadly bits of light.” This is such a powerful image and it really does show that Katniss has literally envisioned all the gory details of her father’s death for the last four years. This is so sad 😞

Also though. Katniss really doesn’t talk much about her father’s death after the first book and definitely doesn’t describe nightmares about it. So .... like basically, the games traumatized her so badly that, her father failing to escape the mines as the collapsed in on him, crushing him into the pits of despair, the possibility of rescuing his corpse deemed unimaginable, pales in comparison? Yes I just tried and failed to phrase that long run on sentence the way Katniss phrases her nightmares about her dad dying, yes that was over the top but you know what? So. Is. Katniss.

“Dawn is breaking through the windows” Twilight reference 😬😬😬. I couldn’t stop myself, y’all. Forgive for please.

“The Capitol has a misty, haunted air.” Katniss, you’re from the butthole of Kentucky, the air you’re used to is probably humid as all get out 😓😓💦😅😅

“I must have bitten into the side of my cheek in the night. My tongue probes the ragged flesh and I taste blood.” 😒😒😒😒 this feeling ..... is .... v v v .... distinct .... and .... familiar 😕🙁☹️

“I end up hopping from foot to foot as alternating jets of icy cold and steaming hot water assault me.” Why is this so funny omg 😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂😂😅😅😅😅😅 Katniss is just like pressing buttons like, “Ah! Too cold! 🥶 Ah! Too hot! 🥵 Ah!!!!!” All while jumping like a .... cat 🐱🥁

Lemon foam? 🍋 Whatever. I guess there’s weirder flavors of soap we have today but like where’s the Philosophy flavors that give recipes on the bottles??? Surely they’d survive an apocalypse??? Everyone uses those???

I’m so glad Katniss didn’t forget to moisturize, even as she prepares for a death match 😅😅😅😅 even if it’s just as simple as pressing a single button, why is she even taking the time to press it?

I know, I know. She just wants to make sure her skin is so smooth for the arena that the knives and arrows just slide right off 🤣🤣🤣🤣

“This is the first time since the morning of the reaping that I resemble myself.” Lolololol which means Mr. Romantic is gonna be even more turned on by the sight of ya, since he’s crushed on you looking like this for the last decade of his life 🥳😎🤗💁🏼‍♀️. Peeta ain’t even here yet and I’m already making the shipper comments Samantha calm down 🙄😶😑🤐🤐🤐🤐🤐🤐

Seriously there where is Peeta? Did he also have to figure out the temperature controls in the shower? Did he also moisturize? I miss him I wanna know about his morning too 😔. Katty, is it too much to ask for you to go take a lil ... sneak peek into his room for me? 😏😏😏

Twenty dishes seems like a lot for like four people eating? Eh, maybe six people, if we count the stylists who magically pick and choose when they’re coming to a meal... Hmm, I’ll calculate just so no one else has to. 🤓😬🤗 No one else cares, Samantha. 🤐🥱😴😶 Twenty dishes amounts out to about five plates without the stylists and three and a half-ish with so.... idk it’s not that much food I guess but it seems like a lot for one meal, esp if people in the Capitol intend to keep their trim figures. This is why that one prep team girl is chubby. 🤐🤐🤐

Awww Katniss copying Peeta’s weird lil eating quirks 🤗😎🥳. She’s already taking interest in him, she just don’t realize it yet 💁🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️ shipper comment alert 🚨🚨

But also has anyone actually tried dipping bread on hot chocolate and was it good or does it taste as repulsive as it sounds to me? I hate it when my food even so much as dares to touch though 🤢😡😤😓

Oooo I always forget Prim has to be utilizing her goat, milking the thing every day until it’s dry I’m not a farmer idk how milking animals works ... so she contributes more than I give her credit I suppose.... I’m making an effort for you, Primmers. You seem useless and immature but I’m trying. 😪😶 Taylor Swift voice 🎶 *this is me trying* 🎶

Oh wow it was only two mornings ago? Man. The first book is slow moving. 😅😭 six chapters in and we’ve gotten through one point five days 🤣

“It makes me irritated that Peeta is wearing exactly the same outfit I am.” “Listen, Peeta, one of us has to change, this is getting embarrassing, you have to stop borrowing my clothes!”

“This twins act is going to blow up in out faces once the Games begin.” Ahhaahahahaha blow up 💥 💣 🔥. Get it, get it. 🥁 Because she represents fire. And she also blows things up in Every. Single. Book.

But seriously, did Cinna and Portia and Haymitch all plan on presenting Katniss and Peeta are like, tight friends or whatever, and then Peeta is like “oh b-tee-dubs, I have a massive crush on K-dog” and they just decided it perfectly fit into their plans?

I’m so jealous that their breakfast has bread baskets 😩😩😩 I know they’re headed to the slaughter but still. Bread.

if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now." "Why would you coach us separately?" In case one of you ... not naming names .... Peeta .... wants to reveal your lifelong crush on live television 😎😎😎

Also Haymitch is like “make an important decision but take zero time to consider it, I’m tired and hungover, kids, idc for your drama 😒”

Which as an auntie to a wonderful little two year old ... is v relatable 😅🥲🙃🤭

“And I already know what yours is, right? I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels." I wanna make a dirty joke here so badly but the lord himself is saying no.

“Town families usually eat expensive butcher meat. Beef and chicken and horse.” Ohhh this is interesting. Katniss believing Peeta and the other merchants live high on the hog while Peeta is later is like “I eat expired bread for every meal, Katniss” I mean, better than starving like her, but also not how she’s painting the picture in her mind. 😶😭

Also Katniss never mentions horses in Twelve, where’s the butcher getting horses from to slaughter and sell? That’s why Katniss never sees them, Samantha, duh 🙄

“I can't do anything. Unless you count baking bread.” "Sorry, I don't.” This was such a quick and matter of fact brush off, poor Peeta 😭😭😭 my baby I’m still rooting for you don’t worry you got this

Also. Lowkey, highkey, that tiny exchange triggered me. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭. Those awkward moments where people brush me off or glance over me live in my head. Rent free. For life.

I wonder sometimes often times if Katniss’ father and Gale’s father knew each other? Both hunted and worked in the mines. Just a random sidebar 😅🤭🤐🙃

“She’s excellent” He’s so proud of his wife 🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧

So uh.... is it safe to say Mr. Mellark is an Everlark fan? If he likes and admires Katniss and Peeta and him apparently have some kind of close-ish bond (okay, maybe not but maybe) then perhaps he is carrying the shipper banner back in Twelve for them 🥳🥳😎😎

Katniss, you dingaling, of course he noticed you 🙄🙄🙄

Peeta compliments her and her instant reaction is “what are you doing, weirdo?” 😅😭

“Don’t underrate yourself” Peeta, love of my life, take your own advise. Stupid. 😪😪😪

“I've seen you in the market. You can lift hundred-pound bags of flour” Katniss in the market, staring across the way at Peeta, 👁👄👁, watching him lift flour over his shoulder.

“He came in second in our school competition last year, only after his brother." This is criminally undiscussed. Peeta being a wrestler alone is undiscussed but also.... did you go to his matches, Katniss? Miss Anti-Social, Hunting-First-Everything-Else-Later? 😏😏😏 If this ain’t proof of her lil crush idk what is

“All you need is to come up with a knife, and you'll at least stand a chance.” “You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows.” Does no one else realize that Katniss and Peeta literally took the other’s advise for the first part of the games? How did Peeta get in with the Careers? The way she just said. Where is Katniss when Peeta and the Careers discover her? High up in a tree. Okay, this maybe didn’t compute right but I had a thought here so I said it

Peeta’s mother is just a monster. Who says that crap? 😔😔😔 don’t worry, baby, I’m rooting for you

“She said, 'She's a survivor, that one.' She is” Yeah, she is, no thanks to you, Mrs. Mellark 😤. Stingy ho.

Peeta’s got pain in his eyes 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Awww, Katniss accrediting her survival to Peeta’s help 😭😭😭😭. This is so pure. Also kiss now, you little freaks.

“She has no idea. The effect she can have.” This is such an iconic line... but the can has always had me laughing. She can have an effect, if she really wants to. Or not, depending on the day.

Katniss is so stupid, how did she construe that as an insult??? 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️ y’all ever just wanna smack her into a wall?

“In public, I want you by each other's side every minute” If Peeta didn’t have a long life crush, what was the ultimate plan with all this friendship act they’re being forced into? 🤔🤔🤔

Even Peeta’s trying to object to it 😭😭😭😭

“You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other.” You will fall in love. 🤩🥳😎

“I bite my lip and stalk back to my room, making sure Peeta can hear the door slam.” Okay, now imagine how much she’s hurting his feelings right now 😖😣 what a little brat

“But that didn't mean I wanted to do everything with Peeta. Who, by the way, clearly doesn't want to be partnering up with me, either.” Lolololololololol this is so funny in hindsight 🤣🤣🤣. Also if you showed a little enthusiasm, Peeta would probably be happy to partner with you.

“But a tiny part of me wonders if this was a compliment. That he meant I was appealing in some way.” No, really, Katniss? A compliment? Who’d give you one of those? 🙄🙄🙄

“It's weird, how much he's noticed me. Like the attention he's paid to my hunting.” A normal person at this point would put together a crush 😅

“And apparently, I have not been as oblivious to him as I imagined, either. [...] I have kept track of the boy with the bread.” Anddd a normal person would figure out their own crush at this point 😅😅.

“I do a quick assessment. Peeta and I are the only two dressed alike.” We stan a matching couple in this house 😎😏

“Almost all of the boys and at least half of the girls are bigger than I am” That means 18 out of 24 tributes tower over my girl here. Smol Katniss. The movies did such erasure on this front I’m still bitter 🤐😒😤😩

“I may be smaller naturally, but overall my family's resourcefulness has given me an edge in that area.” Just a tiny muscular thing standing next to a bunch of tall, lanky kids. 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Awww “Each [Career tribute] must have fifty to a hundred pounds on me.” I mean ... let’s calculate. A muscular girl would probably weigh like 150 pounds... so basically Katniss is at most, 100 pounds. Tiny Katty.

“I'm thinking that it's lucky I'm a fast runner when Peeta nudges my arm and I jump.” This is a random, cute interaction 😍😍😍. Shipper blinders are on and tight.

“Suppose we tie some knots.” “Right you are.” I legitimately just scratched my face, who says right you are? An 87 year old man, that’s who 😅😅😅. Not turning your girl on very well, Peeta baby.

Although it does sound a bit like a backwoods southern thing soooo.... hillbilly Everlark nation rise. 🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️

“We concentrate on this one skill for an hour until both of us have mastered it.” Awww, so Peeta knows how to tie a snare? He’s not as clueless as half the fandom acts.

How exactly is frosting cakes equating to amazing camouflager in a death match? Books crack me up with these connections. “I’m an amazing artist because I write birthday cards!”

Lolololol Prim admiring her future brother-in-law’s handiwork 🥰🥰🥰🥰 too bad she dies before they can get together for real for real.

“Somehow the whole thing - his skill, those inaccessible cakes, the praise of the camouflage expert - annoys me.” Dude, you get praised by everyone and their brother while Peeta gets overlooked, give him a moment to shine. 😑🙄 jealous wife much?

Also she’s already picking up on Peeta’s eye for beauty 😅😅😅

“It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death.” "Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you'll find in the arena. Say it's actually a gigantic cake-“ "Say we move on.” She’s such a little snot. 😒😒😒

But also I love that already in this point of their relationship, Peeta is noticing when she’s being a brat 😭😂😅. “Don’t be so superior.”

“Despite Haymitch's order to appear mediocre, Peeta excels in hand-to-hand combat, and I sweep the edible plants test without blinking an eye.” Lolololol their mentor’s advise went into one ear and right out the other 😂😅🤣.

But also why did the movie make a point in adding an extra scene of Peeta looking weak and the Careers staring at him? That literally took up time and served no purpose at all. 😤😤😤 I’m coming for you, Gary Ross

Awww, everyone but the careers eat alone. But Katniss and Peeta eat together 🥺🥺🥺. It’s like a forced first date 🥳🥳🥳

I like how Katniss says they include bread from every district but she then proceeds to only mention the two districts that later have relevant tributes. 😅😅😅

Lolololol their fake friendship “laugh ... now! Okay, I’ll smile, try to say something interesting”

“Ever since I slammed my door, there's been a chill in the air between us.” Well yeah, you probably hurt his feelings 🥺🥺🥺

Umm, Katniss just casually drops that she was chased by a bear.... how did homegirl live? 😬😳

Peeta knowing Rue’s name and being the one to take notice of her first 🥺🥺🥺. If the games had come down to Katniss, Peeta and Rue, y’all know Everlark would have swallowed the berries and gotten Rue home. 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“Don't. Don't let's pretend when there's no one around.” "All right, Katniss.” He made a single comment to you, ding dong. He didn’t ask for a goodnight kiss 🙄🙄🙄.

Also anyone ever think of how lonely Peeta’s life must be? He’s not close to his family that we can see, Delly’s his only real friend, after he wins he lives in that huge house all alone... I feel sad now. I did this to myself. 😬😭🥺

Katniss’ “Oh! The weapons!” When she sees the bows and arrows is so cute 🥰🥰🥰

Katniss has such a rage built up inside of her. Let it out, girlfriend

See, I’d have done this too but in my rage, I’d probably have shot a real person and not the pig ... goodbye, Plutarch 👋🏻

Andddd I think that’s all for this chapter! Sorry my comments weren’t as interesting as usual 😬.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.28}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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It was the middle of March when a simple trip to Hogsmeade turned into the beginning of the very end.

Robin had let Cas and Jorien talk her into coming along to town this Hogsmeade Saturday, and she had used the opportunity to sell another batch of rare ingredients in the small dingy shop she had actually come to appreciate for just that at this point. After dropping the girls off at Honeydukes, she'd gone on to the potions shop by herself, scared the shop owner beyond reason yet again just for her own amusement, and left a little while later with an even larger sum of galleons in her bag than the previous time she had been there. Really, it was incredible for just how much some of the stuff she possessed sold even around here. Thus, content and smiling to herself for the well accomplished mission, she made her slow way back from the shady part of the village to where she was supposed to meet the girls on high street in twenty minutes. Hopefully time would pass quickly… it was terribly cold outside, even for March, and Robin couldn't wait for a nice hot cup of coffee in whatever cafe the girls would surely drag her into next.

When she crossed from one mud covered street into an even narrower alley of much the same sodden ground, her smile was wiped off her face however, in the very instant a repelling spell hit her square in the chest and sent her flying backwards into the half frozen dirt of the larger road before she even had the time to register what was happening to her. Suddenly void of every air in her lungs, Robin gasped, then yelped when her back hit the hard ground and unruly stone, sending a hot searing pain up her spine that made her eyes water. Adrenaline rushed into her veins, as flooring as it was exhilarating, and while her mind was spinning as it tried to grasp for a sense of what was happening, she already had her wand in her hand only for it to be knocked straight out of there again by an Expelliarmus spoken by a very much familiar voice. Oh no…

"A path of shadows isn't a good place for my little songbird to dwell in… It isn't safe out here. The cats might come to prey on you." Damion Morgan sighed exaggeratedly, while he picked Robin's wand off the ground before she ever had the chance to reach for it. "Get up now dear, before you become as sodden as the ground."

Robin's mind spun in hazy circles of panic as she scrambled to her feet without taking her eyes off the man in front of her. Really, it was her bad luck that it was his turn to supervise this particular Hogsmeade weekend. And away from the school, away from anyone who would witness the incident, she was as good as doomed alone with him in this bloody back alley. For a second, her mind sped through her options. Apparating away? No, not without her wand. Wandless magic, perhaps? In the matter of a few seconds she tried every defensive spell she knew she could do without her wand, running a string of words through her mind with as much focus as she could fathom, but they all proved ineffective against the smug man in front of her. Fuck… he certainly wouldn't make it as easy for her as the last few times, he had already shown her glimpses of that back on new year's. Perhaps he wasn't quite as untalented in the dark arts as she had always tried to convince herself of.

"You needn't try, darling. After the little stunt you pulled on me on the night of the welcoming feast, I have seen to it that my own resistance to your admirable spellwork was fit to counter. And after years of studying you in my class, I know just what spells you have up your sleeve." He told her just in that moment with a disgustingly sweet smile. Dropping his arm with his wand to his side then, he took a step closer to Robin to be right in front of her now. "I had so hoped we could do this in another way. I had hoped it would never have to come this far, if only you had chosen me as I have chosen you. Now, all there is left for either of us is pain."

"Indeed." Robin replied in a breathless huff, and while she didn't understand a single thing of what he was saying with his many words, she knew that she wouldn't get a better chance than this. Without wasting any time overthinking for once, she curled her hand into a fist and punched Morgan straight in the face as strongly as she could. Magic was nice and all, but sometimes the muggle way to do things did work just as well. The blazing pain, the sting and burn that spread from her knuckles up into her entire arm in an instant was well worth it as she discovered, for Morgan dropped both Robin's wand and his own when he instinctively clutched his hands to his hurting face.

What followed then definitely followed too fast. Robin went to claw for her wand immediately, but so did Morgan with his own. Both reached theirs in a striking simultaneity, and in the very same they directed at each other their respectively chosen spells. It wasn't a matter of thought, of conscious action or strategy, but rather an adrenaline driven instinctive defense that made Robin send yet another stunning spell at Morgan. And it seemed no less instinctive for him to send a curse to her in return. Both spells hit their target, both too quick and intricate to deflect. Morgan once more landed on his behind in the offgoing alley, groaning but unfortunately still very much in consciousness. Robin on the other hand let out a bone chilling scream, then crippled into a heap on the very ground she had stood upon, ridden by such a sudden explosion of pain in every cell of her body that it replaced both sense of self and thought. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't move… Her wand lay only inches from her hand, but she found the distance impossible to cross, impossible to think of fighting back at all. All she could do was to keep her eyes wide open as she lay curled up on her side in repeated shivers of pain that drowned out even the cold around her, beneath her, and to watch how Morgan came approaching her once again. His wand raised and pointed at her with a sneer on his face.

"You will have to be better than that, my dear…" He sighed in a raspy voice, then finally crouched down right in front of her and almost affectionately brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You will never succeed if you do not even try. The time has almost come, I'm afraid, and I can no longer hold it off. Neither can I resist you anymore. Oh, how I wish you just could've been mine."

All Robin could do in return was to whimper, as pathetic as it was, but she had no capacity left within her being to care about anything but the pain that was eating her up from the inside. Only in blurred lines above her in her quaking field of vision, Morgan's face twisted in as much agony as she felt, and yet he wore an expression of the utmost sympathy. Robin suddenly felt sick and terribly exposed, and she turned her face downward in a vain attempt to shield herself from the sight of him. Pressing herself into the mud and stone beneath her even if the rash pebbles cut into her skin like a million shards of cruel fate.

"I could end it right here, you know… I should end it here and in this instant." He spoke again, through a layer of sincere remorse. "But I cannot do it if you do not resist. I… I can't, Robin. Not like this. Please don't make me do it like this."

The pain in her body surged to new heights with every word he said, and she let out a strangled sob, a cry of sheer agony even, and perhaps an equal amount of fear. Every atom of her body was torn apart, stabbed with a million knives over and over again while her soul was split into a state between life and death. So much for fighting back… so much for doing anything to protect herself. There was nothing she could do now. She's had her chance, and she'd waisted it on the mildest repelling spell she knew. A bloody idiot, that she was, and nothing more. Perhaps, for that, she did deserve death after all.

No. She was better than that. Robin couldn't give in, not now, not like this, not ever. She had made a mistake by choosing the wrong spell, yes, but she had to work with the consequences now. She would not give up. Never. She couldn't do that to Snape… after all he had been through in his life, he deserved happiness that lasted longer than bloody two and a half months before the next tragedy came haunting him. So did she. They deserved better, and no bloody Damion Morgan could get in the way of that. With the most miserably shaking hand, she tried reaching for her wand, fingertips brushing against the dark wood after what seemed like eternities of pain. Do it do it do it do it do it… Her instincts begged her to finally make use of one of the thousands of horrible curses she had come across over the years, or even to just apparate away for good. But when her sight fell onto Morgan's highly expectant, almost begging expression, her reason won over the instinct. He wanted her to fight. Wanted her to try running. And she would not play this game by his rules anymore.

With another pained whine, Robin clasped her wand in her hand, holding both tightly pressed against her chest, then she rolled onto her back to look up at Morgan's twisted face above her, and even further up at the blindingly white sky. A new wave of maddening pain, she could hardly breathe. Hardly think.

"You really are quite beautiful, you know… Even now, like this." Morgan sighed sadly while his eyes traced the paths Robin's angry tears had painted on her muddied skin. "And while I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see. I must say though that the earrings are a nice addition. Very… modern."

His words still made no sense to Robin's mind, not now, not when the pain took away most of her thoughts in the first place. But she knew that she wanted him to stop playing with her. Think, idiot, through the bloody haze of pain! She'd done it before, pushing the pain away behind the walls in her mind… just enough to make room for reason. Just to focus, just for a moment.

He expected her to fight, or to run, to act in any way they had been taught in his very own class. Therefore he must be looking out for those spells, ready to stop her, ready to attack in return. He wanted her to resist, to fight back, that much had been clear for a long while now… and if she attacked him like that indeed, she very likely wouldn't survive the backlash he had probably been preparing for months now. At least not in her current state of painforced weakness. A state she had brought upon herself when she had let him put that curse on her. A curse of the kind he could only uphold if he put his entire focus on it. Gods! That was the flaw in his actions she had been looking for.

Still very much trembling, she lifted her hand to point her wand up at the sky, then closed her eyes when Morgan started to smile at her doings. He was still waiting for her to make the move that would finally allow him to murder her after all… but she wouldn't do him that favor. She had learned long ago to follow her reason, not her fight or flight instincts. This had to work, she had to be better. For herself, for Snape, for her friends. A faint Lux Obscurius left her lips in even less than a breath as her eyes flew open again, and a broken second later she could feel the earth beneath her vibrating when black lightnings hit the ground around her like a relentless hailstorm of her own fury.

It was enough. Enough to catch Morgan by surprise, to make him lose touch with his spellwork, his focus on Robin, and when the echo of soundless thunder overtook the air around them, the curse's pain was gone from Robin's mind, pushed out of her body by enough adrenaline that forced her onto her feet in an instant. Her wand gripped tightly in her hand, she pointed it at Morgan who staggered to his feet a second later when sound returned to the world.

He tried throwing another curse at her, but Robin had no problem deflecting it even without a word now that she knew what to expect. He tried again and again, growing in desperation and anger while losing in focus and determination, which made it all the easier for Robin to counter while her body and mind slowly recovered from the horrible pain. Luckily the curse had only been on her for a mere few minutes. She was still hurting now… but more so from her hard landing on the ground and a few scratches than from any kind of magic. So far so good.

"Haven't you learned anything throughout the years?!" Morgan cried out at her after a moment, and the string of spells thrown at Robin stopped for the moment as he caught his breath. "You are supposed to fight me! I'm trying to kill you and you just stand there like it's none of your goddamn business! Defend yourself properly, for heaven's sake!!! Try at least! Please!"

"No." Robin got out more or less calmly, but she knew better than to let his talking distract her again. She had made the mistake of letting him catch her off guard once, of underestimating what he would do to her if he got the chance. She wouldn't do it a second time. Neither would she attack him though, even if she had in past times almost hoped for a situation like this. An opportunity to get rid of him. But now that it was here, right in front of her, she found that she couldn't even curse him. Leave alone kill him, like she had always thought she would want to if it came this far. But she simply couldn't bring herself to do either.

"You are just like her, you know that?!" He yelled across the short distance between them, half in laughter, half in despair. "You're too bloody perfect, too much of everything I need to live. I have never been one for irony, but you, love, you are perhaps fate's cruelest twist of bloody irony in existence!"

Robin didn't respond to that. She wouldn't have known what to say anyway, not when he clearly was having a conversation with someone that wasn't her. Not really, anyway. He was just insane; only a madman talking nonsense who was trying to kill her for fun or his own delusional reasons whenever they met outside of class. That was all there was to it, all there could to be. Deep down however, Robin was starting to doubt just that more and more. He didn't seem insane… only caught up in a different reality than her. She was merely clinging onto her version of things for her own good at this point, and she would continue to do so until there was a more reasonable explanation. But for now, she stayed silent either way.

"You know that I will not stop trying, don't you? I cannot stop!" Morgan went on instead, loudly and unbothered in his desperation as if they weren't still in the middle of Hogsmeade. "And unless you kill me first, there is nothing you can do to change your fate!"

The loud banging of a wooden door to Robin's left suddenly caught both her and Morgan's attention then, as it flew open harshly before a bulky barrel of a man came stomping out with a deep frown on his face. Must be the backdoor to one of the taverns, Robin remembered just then. A truly lucky coincidence.

"What's all that shouting and yelling about now again?! Y'all be scaring my customers away!" The burly man bellowed in an instant, and his small angry eyes scanned Robin at first, then Morgan, and finally both their battered and dirty appearances. His anger turned into weariness in an instant, and he addressed Robin with an almost reluctant gaze and a motion towards Morgan. "Need any help dealing with that fellow?"

"Thank you…" Robin replied with a polite but very much feigned smile, then didn't even take her eyes off the barman while she sent a silent Stupefy at the still distracted Morgan, who registered her sudden attack only way too late. Out of the corner of her eye, Robin saw how the professor was thrown back and down the road by the spell, then stayed lying on the ground in a motionless heap. Truly unconscious, at long last. And yet, Robin's eyes did not once leave the flabbergasted bar owner who stared at her in return as she went on with her statement after a breath. "But I believe I am just fine."

"I, uh… Sorry, for… for interrupting." The man finally stammered out after a moment of taking in Robin's perfectly feigned calm and Morgan's unconscious body. "I'm just… gonna get back to my bar and leave you to your own business."

"Actually," Robin was quick to stop him from vanishing through the door, as she took a determined step towards him, "I would very much appreciate it if I could shortcut to high street through your… establishment."

… … …

Ten minutes later, Robin had almost reached the shop where she was supposed to meet Cas and Jorien. She'd gotten rid of the mud and water that had clung onto her in chunks before setting foot onto high street, which then had left her only with messy hair, a bleeding scratch over her eyebrow and too many thoughts yet to be dealt with. A look into one of the shop windows confirmed that she still looked quite as terrible as she felt; cold, confused, exhausted and anxious enough to burst. Putting her hair up into a bun and a stasis charm onto the scratch to provisionally keep it from bleeding did a good enough job at fixing the outside flaws, but her mind remained troubled as it could be when she finally went to seek out the girls. She was 10 minutes late anyway, no need to let them wait even longer than that.

But even when she slowly approached their meeting spot, she couldn't quite move past what had just happened. Sure, Morgan had hurt her before, had said things along the same lines of her belonging to him, but this just surpassed it all. She didn't doubt that he truly wanted to kill her, even if her refusal to fight back seemed to have hindered him in that today. He certainly wouldn't allow himself to make such a mistake another time, wouldn't hold back nor let his twisted emotions overcome him. His intention was more than clear at this point; his reasons were not. Because as much as Robin wanted to blame it all on insanity, the things he'd said and done, the sincere desperation and agony displayed on his face when he had begged her to fight back just didn't add up anymore. There was a reason to the things he did, a very much sane one, but it was yet veiled in darkness. He said he would try to end her again… So she would have to find out what the hell was going on before then. Why he had said those weird things that still kept nagging at her mind in the strangest way, ringing some distant bells she couldn't quite put her finger to. Gods, she felt exhausted enough for her hands to shake even beyond the cold… it was a miracle that her legs hadn't given out yet.

"Finally you grace us with your presence, Robin!!! Jorien and I have been freezing to death out here for the last ten minutes!" Cas' relieved and reproachful voice pulled Robin out of her thoughts, but it also made her jump in an instant. Visibly, for once. Great…

"Are you alright?" Jorien asked immediately with a big frown on her face, just when Robin came to stand in front of them. "You look-… There's really no nice way to say it. Tired and battered is the mildest one, probably."

"Oh, you know me… always running into one thing or another." She replied with a sigh and a half smile that was more feigned than sincere. "But yeah, I'm quite exhausted, and way too cold. I'm sorry I made you wait, I was held up and couldn't get away from the situation for the longest time."

"It's fine…" Cas sighed as well, a lot milder in her expression already. "We were late anyway, so we really only waited a couple minutes out here."

That finally brought a sincere smile to Robin's lips, even if a small one. Of course they'd been late as well… they always were. Well, thank Morgan for holding her up long enough to spare her the waiting time. Robin snorted at her own thought, and couldn't quite understand why almost dying was suddenly so amusing. Then again, Snape had always been saying that her humour could be quite morbid at times. He was right, as always. Gods, she just wanted to be back with him already, wrapped up in a tight hug, telling him all about what happened… but he was still stuck with the dunderheads who had earned themselves detention this week, and wouldn't be free until after dinnertime. Which was one of the main reasons why Robin had agreed to go to Hogsmeade today in the first place.

"If you're exhausted, we perhaps better skip the next part of our grandiose plans for the day…" Jorien said, thereby regaining Robin's attention in time for her to see the sheer disappointment on both girls' faces. "It probably was a stupid idea anyway. Let's just go to a cafe instead."

"No, it's alright! Don't worry about me." Robin replied in an instant, when her inability to bear seeing the girls sad got the better of her. Damn her empathy, a cozy cafe sounded nice right now… and whatever plans they had made surely wouldn't be nearly as relaxing. But as much as she annoyed herself by doing so, she couldn't help putting them and their happiness first. "We can do whatever you guys originally planned. It's fine!"

The smiles were back on their faces in an instant, as was the excitement and mischief, and while Robin didn't know what she had just gotten herself into, she was prone to find out when they immediately started dragging her off down the street. Two minutes later, they stepped through the door to one of the surprisingly many clothes shops in the small village, and this one obviously seemed to cater more to the younger generations. That was the only thing Robin could tell from the look around she had immediately upon their entrance. A nervous habit, really, that had only intensified now after getting so stupidly taken by surprise earlier.

"So…" Cas started with a grin while she walked ahead in obvious certainty where she wanted to go. "You know how in a week I'm going home with Simon for the easter holidays, right?"

"You mentioned it a couple million times, yes." Robin sassed in feigned annoyance, but her small smile was a sincere one yet again. How could she forget, when both Cas and Simon had been speaking of little else over the last few days. It was rather adorable, really, how excited both of them were to spend time together outside of school for once, at last, after over a year of dating. Robin had the utmost understanding for that, and for them in general.

"Funny." Cas rolled her eyes at Robin, but then went on while she slalomed around shelves and tables of clothes with the others in tow. "Anyway, I wanted to get some nicer things for the occasion. You know, like some pajamas and underwear and stuff… Everything I have is terribly childish or boring and just meh."

Oh dear… Robin could relate more to that than she wanted to admit, and that level of subtle embarrassment wasn't something she currently wanted to deal with. Nor did she want to discuss these matters with her roommates, even if they seemed to have no reluctance to do so the other way round. To her luck, they at least weren't here because of her. Or so she sincerely hoped.

"To shortcut Cas' elaborations, we picked out some stuff for her, but we couldn't really decide and weren't too sure if it was too much or too little, so we were hoping you could give your usual overly-rational evaluation." Jorien concluded factually, and Robin only nodded her agreement with a silent sigh.

This really was the most horrible timing; she had no room in her mind for insignificant matters like clothing! There was only fear and anxiety and concern… and Morgan's words still nagging at her. 'You are just like her', he'd said. Like who? Did Robin remind him of someone who all of his anger and affection likewise were actually directed at? 'While I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see.'... What the hell was that supposed to mean? Robin always made a conscious effort to avoid Morgan as much as possible, to the extent of almost hiding from him during mealtimes. They only really met in defense classes these days. So he really hardly got to see her indeed… but he looked at her being every day? One of the photos of her that had been in the paper, perhaps? But then he would see her as well, not her being. Ugh, this was just-...

"Earth to Robin!" Cas snapped her fingers in front of Robin's face with raised eyebrows. They were standing in front of a line of changing cubicles now, or rather Jorien and Robin were, while Cas stood in the door of one and moved back towards the mirror inside where she looked at herself. Robin had to frown when her attention returned to the current moment. Cas was still wearing her own clothes, but in the mirror, her reflection wore the piece she was trying to show to her friends.

"Interesting spellwork with the mirrors…" Robin mused before she could help it. "Is that a common thing in clothes shops around here?"

"...yes?!" Cas scoffed incredulously at the –to her– obviously inane question. "You really don't go shopping often enough. The mirrors are charmed to show you what the pieces would look like on you. Then you only have to try on the things you actually like on yourself for the right size. We've done that already, so it's just deciding between the looks now. What do you think?"

With an almost impressed expression, Robin studied both the mirror and Cas' reflection for a moment to actually make an effort at last. Perhaps this wasn't quite as terrible as she'd thought… Sure, it seemed kind of ridiculous to be here shopping now after she'd had to fight for her life half an hour ago. But perhaps that was why it was a good idea after all; a remedy for all the ghosts in her head, the fear and anxiety in her body. It might do her good to get some distance to the events before trying to understand them.

Thus for the next forty minutes Robin did her best to actually focus on the girls and on helping Cas with her shopping. They really had picked some nice things that weren't too over the top, and after Robin had given her commentary and evaluation as well, the selection Cas was left with was well worth their efforts. Robin was almost led to believe that allowing them to drag her here hadn't been quite such a terrible idea as she'd originally thought.

That was until Jorien and Cas were fooled enough by Robin's desperate efforts to push through this endeavor with the very last of her energy and enthusiasm to try to make her try things on as well. And that Robin really didn't have the mindset for today. Being alive was currently a higher priority to her than being well dressed, which the two younger girls of course had no understanding for. They couldn't, really, and Robin wouldn't burden them with it either. Thus she agreed to let them pick whatever while she would patiently stand in front of the mirror to let them gawk at the reflection, as long as she wouldn't have to actually physically change. Or make an effort to show sincere interest in any of the pieces any longer.

For a while the girls picked all kinds of both horrendous and actually quite nice pieces just to giggle and fawn over and Robin simply let them. As long as they were having fun, she couldn't care less if they made her reflection look like a clown or a magazine model. And while her reflection's garments changed from t-shirts to dresses to pajamas to lingerie, she resumed her pondering of Morgan's words and actions as well as her own. Ignoring the outside world as successfully as ever for a good twenty minutes at least.

"How strange…" Cas' half humoured and half confused huff was what pulled Robin back into the reality around her at last, and she followed the girl's line of sight to her underwear-clad reflection. Good gods… she looked like the closest thing to a piece of pastry she'd ever seen. Or an 18th century mistress. Or both.

"What's so strange?" Jorien asked a short moment later, and frowned at Robin's ridiculous reflection as well.

"I haven't really noticed before either, because I was admittedly distracted by the fun pieces of clothing, but it's really quite obvious now." Cas replied and crossed her arms over her chest with an almost smug expression. "Tell me, what do you see?"

Jorien scoffed, then rolled her eyes, but went to answer nonetheless. "Well, I see Robin, looking like an ancient painting of some royal hooker. Don't tell me you see any more than that in the mirror…"

The words sent a surge of immediate anxiety and adrenaline through Robin, and while she thought that it was due to the discomfort upon looking like a tart at first, the impression soon was replaced by the nagging in the back of her mind that picked up stronger than ever. Her mind started spinning too fast, thoughts tumbling over each other in both panic and reason. Gods, she could almost grasp the thought, the words that were haunting her now.

"Well duh…" Cas rolled her eyes, then tapped against the glass on the height of Robin's ribs. "There's no scar, idiots! As far as I remember, Robin has a rather visible scar on her rib cage, while the reflection doesn't. Isn't that odd? As if the reflection isn't even you."

A wall inside Robin's mind collapsed in that instant, and buried her under the impossible weight of its ashes. Its implications. She could hardly breathe. Paintings… Reflections… Scars… Earrings. A wild rush of adrenaline. Panic. She felt sick as soon as she finally understood.

"Robin, are you alright? You look terrible again… Did we say something wrong?" Jorien inquired instead of reacting to Cas' explanation, and half a second later both girls were gazing at her in concern. Robin had no capacity left to care that she worried them. She had no capacity for anything outside of her own mind.

"I need to get back to the castle. Now." She said in a quiet voice, staring at her own eyes in the mirror for just a moment longer before spinning on her heels and making for the shop's exit. Every cell in her body stood on edge, every emotion locked away behind the thickest walls she could muster up to cope with reality. Right now, she only needed reason, as much of it as she could get. And in a spurt of just that she looked over her shoulder at the two confused girls once more before she reached the door. "I'm sorry, I just remembered something very important that I have forgotten about for far too long. Do go on shopping without me though, and be sure to tell me all about it at dinner, yes?"

Then, without waiting for an answer, she was out of the door and on her way back to the castle. Her lungs hurt, heart racing, head spinning, and her eyes stung terribly from both the wind and unshed tears of raw anxiety. Perhaps it was only the shock of realisation hitting her, or perhaps she was really quite so scared. She didn't know if she hoped to be right or wrong in the unnerving suspicion that had fallen upon her like the darkest of night. Because frankly, either way would end in a nightmare.

______________________________

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[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Trieste Venture (Part 2 - Mourning the Lenin)

GAME CANON VERSION: The second part of the rewritten Trieste Story Quest. I wish they had added more of the emotional stuff for the MC. I don’t think it would have been hard. They had like, some nice elements. They just didn’t use them well or not at all. Below the Cut!

You watched those lung snails slowly swallow Caesar and Chu Zihang like a mudslide, while you sat with this bloodless coward in the cockpit. 

The lung snail attached to the Lenin's outer wall probably weighed several hundred tons, and could kill a man if it hit him. Chu Zihang was trying to climb towards Caesar, but he was further away from the nuclear power module than Caesar was. He was carried askew by the currents when he fell into the lung snail pile, and his landing point was not as good as Caesar's. According to the instructions for use, the suit can only support five minutes and is used to repair the shell of the deep submersible if necessary, but now Caesar's suit has been outside for seven minutes, and Chu's has been out for two minutes. Caesar is unconscious, and Chu Zihang's vitals are getting worse and worse. He is relying on blood rage to support himself, but the effect of blood rage in this extreme environment is also unknown.

The chances are getting smaller and smaller. The Chu Zihang in his spherical submersible is still paddling his arms in the pile of lung snails. He understands that he is doing his best. He’s obviously the kind of person who is not too concerned about anything, but as long as he has any strength left, if there is even a glimmer of hope, he will not let it go. 

Chu Zihang finally broke through the lung snails in front of him and grabbed the handrail behind Caesar's suit. He tried to use a strap to tether the Caesar’s submersible to his suit, but how the two suits are joined side by side and this is a big problem.

Your rage has gone and left you feeling empty inside as you watched. It wasn’t like the heart-pounding explosions, the gunshots and the desperate screams of the dying at Black Swan Bay. This seemed cold, clinical and distant. The cabin was completely silent while you watched them struggle.

There was no need for you to be here. Caesar and Zihang were absolutely wrong. There was something you could do.

You slip off the headset and take off the seatbelt. 

“Not you too! What am I supposed to do?” Lu Mingfei cried.

Because Caesar and Zihang would live, they would be able to provide him with instructions. That was a fact. So there was no need to say anything to Lu Mingfei or answer his questions.

“There are only two suits. You’ll die if you go out there!” He protested.

“That’s the point.” Because Lu Mingfei meant nothing to you, and his feelings didn’t matter, it was easy enough to say what was in your heart.

“Really? Suicide?!” He whimpered. But, just as you expected, he was too weak and cowardly to stop you. He didn’t even move to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“You’ll understand later. I’ll be back with them.” You stepped into the cockpit hatch and shut it. Inside, you could hear the rushing of the ocean over the vessel. It reminded you of the time you fell into the ocean after being pushed there by your dear friend. You’d survived extreme ocean conditions before.

You close your eyes to focus. In your mind, swirling serpents appear in a vision. They part to reveal flaming golden eyes. 

“Wait!” Lu Mingfei’s fists are pounding on the hatch. Your eyes are golden, your pupils have turned to vertical slits, and large blue-black veins are crawling up your neck and face followed by bright golden scales. Because you were going to die, it didn’t matter if you died like a monster. With this strength, with Blood Rage, you could live, just like the mermaids lived. From within the hatch, your heart beat loud like a drum. In a single inhale, you sucked the air. When you opened the hatch, the water rushed in, pressed in on you and forced that breath out of you. The water was pitch black, but you could see just fine.

More and more mermaids crawl out of the ground, creeping and swimming, reminiscent of millions of earthworms crawling from the mud in spring. A huge crack appeared, cutting lengthwise into the long river of lava. Hundreds and thousands of tons of lava gushed into the crack. Something huge struggled in the lava, its scales black, its dorsal crest bearing barbed bone spikes, black metal hooks piercing its muscles, locking it firmly under the rubble. But the metal hooks were just barely able to restrain it, and it lashed the ground furiously with its thick tail. The buildings that still stood collapsed in pieces, with metal fragments floating up with the gravel, forming a blinding fog in the sea.

But that wasn't the worst of it. What looked like swarms of fireflies were flying out of that chasm!

It was those ghost-toothed dragon vipers! They had first appeared further up from the trench, but no one had expected the ruins to be their nest. The dragon vipers poured out like silvery bands of light in the sea water. They were not interested in small things like lung snails or corpse guards, but gradually closed in on the struggling Caesar and Chu Zihang. Your mind explodes in a rage. You remembered what Chu Zihang and Caesar said: the ghost tooth dragon viper gathered in groups and chewed the bronze pillar to eat. They can secrete strong acidic mucus, and chewed metal with their horrible teeth. Can the titanium-magnesium alloy used to make men’s equipment stand up to the dragon viper's teeth?

You weren’t about to let them find out. The Dragonblood in your body was surging and you let out an inhuman cry, a cross being a baby’s cry when it is first born and a wildcat’s scream. Your body powers forward, undulating like a dolphin, knowing how to swim like this even though you weren’t built like a mermaid. The dragon vipers didn’t know you, but your fierce charge marked you as an opponent and, for a moment, they instinctively changed course as one school, spinning away from you.

Caesar and Chu Zihang couldn't run, they were completely trapped in a pile of lung snails. Chu let go of Caesar, plucked the lung snails in front of him, and headed for the nuclear power module. Apparently, he had heard your scream and understood the situation at hand. He was trying to see if he could fire up the nuclear pods before the dragon vipers pounced and tore into them, but all he knew was that the code had something to do with Nono's birthday. 

The swarm has come back around, this time in even greater numbers. The urge to survive is pushing your blood rage to higher levels and now you don’t even think twice about focusing on the group and lashing out with claws, slicing the fish open neatly, blood and entrails filling the water. 

The viperfish are not above cannibalism and this throws the swarm into a frenzy, biting into their wounded brethren and occasionally taking chunks out of healthy fish who are then rendered skeletons in an instant. The feeding frenzy doesn’t go unnoticed and more viperfish are coming. You cry out from the sharp pain of one latching onto your foot. You dislodge it, but the numbers of fish are starting to over take your ability to fight and those on the outer edges of the school suddenly turn their attention back to Chu Zihang and Caesar.

Fortunately, the toughness of titanium-magnesium alloy is far more than bronze, so these small things they have to bite very hard.. Chu Zihang is exhausted, he is still less than 5 meters away from the nuclear power module, but his metal prosthetic limbs have broken, he can not enter the passcode. You want to save them, but the moment you turn away from the school of viperfish, they pounce on you, biting at you like gigantic mosquitos! You start to realize that you might not rescue Caesar and Zihang after all, that maybe… just maybe you wouldn’t be enough… 

Again.

The spherical figure suddenly stood up. It was Caesar, who had been unconscious! His pupils burned brightly, and he used metal prosthetics to crush the dragon viper attached to his body. With the power of a rock driller, he plucked away layer after layer of lung snails. He passed Chu Zihang step by step, approaching the nuclear power module. You’re stunned for a moment and then you feel a sudden thrill, like the sudden excitement of descending the first hill on a rollercoaster!

Your body really is moving on its own. You slice through the fish like a blender, claws ripping, teeth tearing. Scales floated through the water like it was glittering confetti for New Years Day at Times Square! They turn to bite back but you’re too fast, zipping through the school with such power they were forced to part ways or get bludgeoned to the side by your own body. You’re lost in the amazing power of it. Was this you? Was this happening? You’re laughing, but you don’t feel breathless! How was this happening? What was happening? Your mind was screaming with giddy joy, but you’re not sure where this is coming from. It was as if you were on some sort of high from a powerful drug and your conscious mind was taking a back seat.

Caesar was a little drowsy, slowly entering the code. A confirmation of success! The nuclear power module reignited, the cadmium rod recovered neutron density and rose. This time it wouldn't go into safe mode. It really became a nuclear bomb. Caesar turned around and grabbed Chu Zihang who was struggling in the pile of lung snails, and removed the lead dive weights from their suits. The weight was reduced and they immediately surfaced, taking with them the ghost-toothed dragon vipers that were biting at them. 

You follow them into the pressurized cabin as door began to fill with water, followed by drainage, when the pressure in the pressurized cabin returned to the same as in the cockpit, Lu Mingfei could not wait to pull open the pressure door.

You were a mess of half human, half servitor and bitten a thousand times. As the strange power left you, you found yourself unable to stand any more and slipped to the floor. The pain was unbearable as your muscles and bones reminded you that even though you couldn’t feel it in your moment rapture, they were working beyond their limits. The strains, sprains, bites and bruises crashed into your mind all at once. It hurt so much you couldn’t even cry, only gape wordlessly.

“Get Caesar! I’ll take care of her!” Chu Zihang had already shed his spherical suit. He drew his blade and brought it down hard against the dragon fish that were still clinging to it, beheading them as neat as a sushi master. He then left for a few seconds and returned with the injection that was supposed to save you. Still, he held that bright blade against your throat just in case. You didn’t even feel the needle only the serum’s burning course through your veins. 

“It’s okay…” You tell him. He didn’t have to try to save you. In fact, you don’t know why you even came back to the submersible. You were just following the natural order of events and you felt fine. Why did you bother coming back? You were supposed to die out there. That was the plan, right?

Chu Zihang held your hand up and examined it. Little by little, the scales and black veins were starting to retreat, albeit, slower than he would have liked. “Stay in here, I’ll bring a first aid kit.”

"What the hell kind of fucking fish is this!" Lu Mingfei was screaming. You watch as he takes the fire extinguisher and sprays the fish still clinging to Caesar’s suit with it. Even though they were powered by Dragonblood, they still needed oxygen to live. The foam sapped them of that oxygen and they dropped off Caesar’s suit. Turned out that Raccoon Boy as good for something after all.

A bump attracts your attention. Through the inches thick glass, you see that the gold scaled mermaids are flying past you in a swifter river than before, streaming upwards. Chu Zihang returns, carrying a blanket and pulling on a roll of bandages with his teeth.

“Hey is she alright? Do you need help?” Lu Mingfei asks, with approaching footsteps.

“Stay out there! Tell me what’s going on outside!”

You finally look down and see that your clothes have been near completely shredded save a bit around your waist and neck.. Chu Zihang was kneeling in front of you to obscure you from Mingfei’s view.

A wall of flames rose slowly from the side of the Trieste, and the sound of thunder resounded in the depths of the trench. Rivers of magma erupted! Millions of tons of magma spurted out of the chasm! The magma was golden red when it was newly ejected, before gradually solidifying and turning black, rising to about half a kilometer before it completely solidified, forming a giant black wall, and the seawater next to it instantly vaporized, as if a million thunderstorms had exploded continuously at the bottom of the sea. The Treiste and the mermaid hybrids were only a few hundred meters away from the wall of lava, and there were still streams of lava spewing from below. The newly solidified volcanic rocks above had begun to fall. So the mermaids gave up the attack and started to flee again. Even these things can't help but be afraid in front of a huge disaster, and it's obvious that when the lava wall collapses, everything will be destroyed. 

From the beginning, they fled not because they were afraid of the nuclear power module, but because they sensed the eruption of the volcano under the sea.

Chu Zihang finished bandaging your wounds and covered you with the blanket. He then picked you up and carried you to your seat to strap you in. "It’s already too late to call the Sumeru. We have to accelerate away. Mingfei, you control the rudder and stabilizing wing. In a few moments the nuclear power module will explode. We must reach beyond a safe distance!"

"But we have no power! We've already lost the nuclear power module! Just the lithium batteries aren't fast enough!" Lu Mingfei was dumbfounded.

"I'm an engine too." Chu Zihang strapped himself firmly into the seat.

His golden pupils burned up, and the four walls of the cockpit were illuminated in gold as heat waves reverberated through the air.

Royal Fire erupted! Swirls of black flame appeared in the seawater below the submersible. It was the most concentrated state of the Royal Flame, with internal temperatures of several thousand degrees, yet not a trace of heat was escaping. The black vortex slowly rotated in the seawater for a second and then collapsed. The heat leaked out. The huge amount of seawater was instantly vaporized. The swirling white steam stream roared in the deep sea. The water vapor and the flame were entangled and swirled together to create a flaming vortex! 

You were all starting to rise! Even though the rock wall was collapsing around you, the Trieste brushed past the falling debris. You’re holding your breath hoping that you wouldn’t end up buried anyway.

You stared at the screen. The screen is an external camera shot of the Takamagahara. The scene was solemn and magnificent. The ruins are slowly sliding along the tilted sea bed into the lava river, the last buildings gradually tilting and crumbling, high towers snapped off, thousands of bells rolling in the streets of the city. You feel that at the moment they play sad music like the song sung by desperate birds. A small mountain of volcanic rocks fell from above, spewing out lava as they splashed in the ruins. Lava was converging into small rivers along the streets, as if cleaning the city with flames. Tides of magma from the fissures swallowed up more and more of the ground. Certain shattered pieces of land disappeared forever into the rivers of lava, and soon with the sun-bright explosion of the nuclear powerhouse, Takamagahara was lost to the world forever.

　　The Lenin slid along the tilted foundations, its huge hull collapsing countless buildings along the way and rolling into the magma. The embryo inside did not struggle, and the Lenin floated in the lava for a few moments before gradually sinking. The fractured metal tower rolled over and smashed into its middle, destroying its bridge. The high temperature burned the fleshy layer covering the Lenin, exposing the carbide red five-star of Soviet Russia on the bow, which was the last to sink. By now the Trieste was far from the depths of the trench, and the bright river of lava in view was fading.

It was just a ship, but it was one of the last remaining memories of your past. You remembered anticipating the visit of this ship every Christmas with its gifts of chocolate for Vera and vodka for Herzog, new clothes and shoes for you. Up until now, when you thought of your past, you thought of a terrible end. The blood and the fire and the smoke. You shed no tears then. 

But watching the ship and the city sink irretrievably, it finally hits you that everything happy is gone. Gone is the ship and its presents, burned forever and it was never going to arrive again.

You hold the blanket against your reddening face and stain it with your tears, all your sorrow bursting out an a flood.

[martellthemandalor]

Fight or Flight - Part 1

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: langauge, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of violence, no Tom becuase I hate him

Rating: T (teen)

Word Count: 4.5K+

A/N: After nearly a month of not writing (fuck you writers block), I’m finally here with this Frankie fic. It’s going to be a two parter and part two will hopefully be posted next week, but I’m off to uni this weekend so I’ll have to see if I have the time to finish and post it. As always, likes are appreciated, reblogs encouraged and feedback is adored. (Also my Spanish sucks, please correct me if you see any mistakes)

Masterlist

GIF credit: @conveniently-available

You thought you’d started seeing things when you’d caught the shadowed face of Santiago Garcia, an ex squadmate, staring at you across the market plaza. You weren’t sure whether to be glad you weren’t going insane, or pissed that he’d ignored your blatant choice to ignore him when he had slid into the booth opposite you. Cocking an eyebrow at your old friend, you took a long swig of your beer.

He responded with a familiar smile, one you hadn’t seen in years. He was still as infectious as he was all those years ago, a single smile all it took to break your nonchalant air. You rolled your eyes as a grin broke across your face, shaking your head at him.

“Long time no see Pope,” you started, sliding your bottle across the table to him. He accepted the drink, taking a sip of the cold liquid. It was something the two of you had started back in your squad days, often choosing to share a bottle of whatever alcohol you could get your hands on in celebration. Initially you shared because alcohol was as rare as a total eclipse while at base, but it had quickly evolved into your own tradition. You watched with careful eyes as he handed the bottle back to you. “And here I’d thought I had done a good job of disappearing.”

He laughed at that. The deep belly laugh that, as much as you didn’t want to admit, you had missed so much. You and Santiago had been close friends, practically family, back in the Delta Force. When you went through your early retirement you had told yourself that disappearing was the easier choice, that it would save you a lot of heartache, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t hurt like hell to leave him like that.

“You certainly made it fun to track you down, Athena,” He replied, eyes sparking when your own met his in shock of hearing your old call sign. “But it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I take it that means you didn’t get my text then?”

“Given that I ditched my old phone when I left, no,” You took another sip of your drink, before slowly setting it back on the table. “What do you want Santi?”

He leant forward, voice dropping to an enticing rumble.

“I’ve got us a job,” You rolled your eyes at him and opened your mouth to make a smart ass remark. Santi knew you to well and saw what was coming, quickly continuing before you have chance to speak. “Seventeen thousand up front for a weeklong recce, all paid for by the narcotics unit down there.  But if we go through with it there’s potential for major upside, I’ve cut a deal with the agency. We keep twenty five percent of whatever we seize.”

“That twenty five percent doesn’t mean shit if it’s some drug running nobody, Pope. Who are we going after?" You ask, reaching for your bottle.

He dropped back in his seat, arms crossing against his chest. His jaw ticked for a moment, stretching out the seconds before dropping his bombshell.

“Lorea.” He shrugged.

“No shit?” Your response was almost instant, disbelief lacing your tone as your hand froze, millimetres away from the frosted glass. “The guy’s a ghost Pope, even my people can’t trace him.”

“I got solid intel, my informant says he’s holed up in a safe house with all his cash, over seventy five million dollars.” He raised both his brows in emphasis, reaching forward to snatch the bottle in front of your hovering fingertips. You watched in stunned silence as he brought the bottle to his lips. Santi chuckled at your expression.

“Fuck me.” Was all you managed to say, gratefully accepting the drink Santiago passes back. You took a long swig, using the little time the action gave to gather your thoughts a little. “Look Pope, I imagine you’ve already got the boys lined up for thi-”

“Nope, I’ve come to you first. I need you on this hermana, your skills are invaluable.” His eyes were pleading with you, chocolate irises piercing into your own. Paired with his boyish smile it was almost enough to make you give in.

Almost.

“But you are getting the boys together, and if you’re getting all of them together… I just can’t Santiago,” you stressed, your tone dejected. Part of you hoped that he only needed you, maybe then could have justified going. “Look, I’ve got a good gig here. I can’t just up and leave for a week with the boyband, stalking around some god forsaken jungle.”

“Is that so?” He smirked at you, eyebrow quirking slightly.

“You know full well there isn’t a lot of good work I get with my ‘skill set’, private security was the best move. It’s really not the sort of job I can disappear from for any amount of time.”

“Oh is that what they call it now?”

It was true that ‘private security’ was a pretty lose term for your job. You were certainly a form of security, but the mansions you protected were occupied by brazen CEO’s whose companies had less than reputable backgrounds. ‘Private Army’ was probably a more accurate job description. Or ‘Gun for Hire’.

“Fuck off Pope, like your job is any better,” You sniped, throwing a dangerous look across the table. Santi threw an equally serious face back at you. Neither of you could keep it up for long though, your stern expressions melting away with a light hearted laugh.

“I missed you Santi,” The sentiment behind your words rang sincere and true.

“I’ve missed you to hermana, I’m sure the other boys have as well.”

You scoffed.

“I’m sure two out of three of them do.”

Pope gave you a pointed look, and then leaned in to rest his forearms on the table.

“Frankie has definitely missed you Athena,” He stated, his voice low as his eyes flickered across your face. He watched as anger sparked across your features, scattering across your face like embers spitting from a fire.

“Frankie has no right to miss me,” You all but spat it at him. Seeing him open his mouth to protest, you cut off his oncoming plea with a sharp “You know exactly why.”

Santi slumped back into the worn cushion of the booth, running a hand down his face. He had hoped the resentment you harboured for your ex had faded over the past few years, but the way your words are filled with venom as you spoke his name he knew that opposite was true. If that was the case, then convincing you to join the job was going to be twice as hard. He shook his head at you.

“I don’t, actually. No one but you and Frankie knows what actually happened that day. You know that the reports for ops like ours are never truthful, our mistakes and injuries always get omitted,” Your sudden laugh caused Pope to pause, a short and sarcastic bark that was quickly followed by a swig of beer. “Look. You know I really need you on this, but I also need Fish. This job requires a pilot and he’s the best one I know.”

“I don’t care Pope. I’m not going if he’s going to be there, simple as. Find someone else with my ‘skill set’, god knows I can give you the contacts.”

With that you hauled your bag over your shoulder and went to leave the booth, pushing the glass bottle over to Santi to finish.

You thought you’d been successful in storming off. He didn’t say a word to stop you, just watched with marksman intensity as you slid out the booth. As you strode past him however, his hand darted out to firmly grip your wrist. Twisting towards him, you found whatever expletives that were rising in your throat died on the tip of your tongue. Those damn eyes of his placated you in an instant. Big and brown and mirroring a look you know you’ve given him so many times in the past.

“Please hermana. I need people I can trust on this, and there’s no one I trust more than you. I know you’ve seen what Lorea does to the city, hell to the whole damn country, but it’s getting personal now. I need to stop him. I need you to help me stop him,” He pleads. It makes you hesitate. You know all the terrible things that have happened under Lorea’s reign, seen first-hand a few of them. It was all Santi needed, he sees the new chink in your armour and jumps to rush into the gap before it closes you from him again.

“Seventeen thousand guaranteed, more if we go through with it, probably enough that you’ll never have to pick up a gun again. A week of work. AND I’ll personally make sure Fish doesn’t talk to you, if that’s what you want. Okay?”

There’s a silence, a lengthy pause where he can see the cogs turn in your head. Your eyes search his face, you’re not entirely sure what it is you’re looking for, but whatever your gaze meets seems to harden your resolve. Dropping your head back you groan dramatically.

“Fine. Alright I’ll do it. You better make good on those promises though.”

“When have I ever not Athena?” Pope grins at you, grabbing his own bag and standing up to join you. He brings you in for a proper hug, both of you grinning and laughing in each other’s ears. When you break he wraps his arm around your shoulders, the two of you walking out the bar in perfect step. That was something else that hadn’t changed then, you and he having a freaky twin-like way of mirroring each other. Even after all this time.

“Remind me again why we had Will as point on all our missions? You are so much more persuasive, and easier to listen to.” You gave him a poke on his ribs, causing another laugh to rumble from his chest.

“I don’t know hermana,” He replied, giving your own ribs a poke. “Now where’s good to eat around here, I’m starving.”

-

Frankie looked at the text on his phone once again. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, the amount that Pope was promising and just for a consultation alone.

“Hey, Fish, you coming?” Benny slapped down the end of the white tape wrapped around his hand, securing it in place.

“Right behind you Benny,” He replied, slipping the device back into its designated pocket. There was only one thought running rings around his head since he’d received the illusive message.

Had you been recruited for this job too?

Fish knew that you and Santiago had been close friends throughout your army days, the pair of you having closer ties than the rest of squad, save for Will and Benny of course. A bond like that, it doesn’t go forgotten, he knows better than most that even when severed, it leaves a lingering ghost.

Maybe it had pulled Pope to call you in. Maybe it had even convinced you to say yes.

Benny slapped the lockers as the pair rounded the corner of the changing room, the abrasive metallic clanging drawing Frankie out of the black hole of his thoughts.

“Aw yeah where my corner men?” Benny chanted, beelining for Santiago.

Frankie didn’t want to look. Instead he walked swiftly up Will, greeting him with a solid embrace. Pulling away, Will gave him a look. It was one of encouragement and almost… sympathy? Frankie’s gaze dipped away from the blonde man, sending a glance towards his old friend.

A tap on his arm from Will gave him the courage he needed. He turned towards Santiago, head down, hoping that going in hat first would somehow protect him. He painted a smile on his face, swiping his hand to swat at Pope’s arm.

“Hey! todos los días que're más feo,” (“Everyday you’re uglier”) He joked, a genuine chuckle escaping his lips when Santi responded by grabbing the open ends of his jacket.

“Ah, pequeño pendejo,” (“You little shithead”) Santi laughed and pulled Frankie into a hug. He felt a little of his anxiety melt away, things seeming to be normal so far. No ghosts. “Me alegro de verte.” (“good to see you”)

Frankie settled onto one of the benches, watching his hands as they lay clasped, but still fidgeting, in his lap.

“Did you boys get my text?” The answering silence to Santiago’s question was deafening. Not that it put him off of course, if anything the hush just spurred Pope on more. “Yeah? Fish?”

Hearing Pope say his call sign felt almost foreign, even as it sent him hurtling back through time. Back into an apparition of the three of you laughing, joking, ribbing light-heartedly at the names bestowed upon you.

This time it was Santi who ripped him from his thoughts.

“I need a pilot, I can’t do this thing without you.”

“I don’t know man,” Frankie shook his head at his hands, “I got out of this for a reason.”

Lie. There was way more than a single reason. One of which he prayed wasn’t going to round those lockers, like he had mere minutes before.

“What… what does that mean?” Pope questioned in disbelief. “Did you read the text? This can change your life forever Frankie.”

Fish scoffed, rising from the bench. He knew exactly how much this could change his life. However, it didn’t mean it would be changed for the better.

It was easy for Pope to say, to propose it, this had been his life for years, long after the squad had gone their separate ways. The only way to fuel his need to make a difference was, in his eyes, to pick up a gun and do it himself. Frankie still remembered his justification for running back into violence.

“What happened to that bullshit about going back to your Mother’s homeland and empowering the people to police themselves?” Fish’s arms crossed as he fired Pope’s words back at him, a subtle stab that didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Pope chuckled softly in response, his expression hardening for a split second.

“Anyway,” Frankie continued. “I lost my licence. I can’t even fly right now.” His steady gaze dropped at that, the cold water of shame settling deep in his stomach at the admission.

Pope was unfazed, pressing on with double the determination.

“Well, I don’t need a pilot with a licence. I’m in with the army down there,” He took a step towards his capped friend, steadily pressing into the bubble Frankie had built around him. Pope ducked his head slightly, trying to catch his evading eyes. “I just need a pilot I can trust.”

“Yeah. I don’t think so.” Frankie shot back, not missing a beat.

He watched as Popes mouth pressed into a firm line, chucking out a soft “Okay,” before starting on a passionate ramble about Lorea. Fish purposely turned away, tuning out the determined voice of his friend in favour of watching Benny prep for his fight. He hoped that the obvious shun of Santiago’s efforts would make his stance clearer. If he could get any clearer than the obvious “No.” he had given seconds before.

“… There’s a winning lottery ticket stuck to the bottom of your cowboy boot.” The words were spoken close to his ear, swinging his attention back to his exasperated friend. Fuck it. Maybe if he bites at Santi’s line just a little, then his focus would turn to one of the other guys. “Every guy in that gym would jump at this-”

Pope’s voice stalled just slightly, his eyes darting momentarily behind Frankie’s head. Confusion flashed across Fish’s features, until he heard the voice.

That voice, so saccharine sweet and smooth, that haunts him more than any horror he’s seen. Your voice.

“You gonna win for me, Benny?”

-

Your grin was wide, arms folded casually as you leaned against the chilling metal of the lockers.

“Athena!” Benny all but roared, surging towards you and swiftly gathering you in his arms. Your own came around his neck as he swung you round. “I’m most certainly going to win now my good luck charm is here.” He said, setting you back down on your feet. You could feel Frankie’s stare burning into the back of you as you let your touch linger just a little longer than necessary, fingertips dancing gently across the bare expanse of Benny’s shoulders.

“Good luck charm, hmm? Does that mean you’ve been losing without me around?” You teased, palms resting on Benny’s firm chest.

“No ma’am, just means that winning will be twice as easy now.” He said, squeezing your hips, a move that didn’t go unnoticed. Then you moved to the other Miller brother.

“Hey Will, how you been?” You asked, arms wrapping round him in a much softer embrace. He chuckled against your ear.

“I’ve been fine, better for seeing you though, Ath,” Will pulled back, hands coming to rest in his pockets. “After you left we didn’t think we’d see you again, where’ve you been?”

“A few places, all over America really, went abroad a couple times. Paris was particularly nice I must say.” You replied nonchalantly.

“Paris, eh? Well you’ve certainly done the best out of all of us.” Will acknowledged, a hand coming out to squeeze your shoulder lightly. Your smile was wide and genuine, beaming at the bearded blonde. He responded with a smile of his own, quiet pride etched across his soft eyes.

“We always knew she would,” Pope spoke up, striding over to you. “Athena was destined for better things than us from the start, you boys knew that when you named her for a Greek goddess.” He cajoled, nudging your arm lightly.

“Santiago, you flatter me. C’mere, idiot.” You laughed lightly, pulling in your best friend for a solid hug.

Pope’s shoulders were squared when he finally let go. Your eyes immediately clocking the way he was winding himself tight. His brow ticked up in silent question.                                                                                                

A lull fell over the locker room. The electric energy radiating from Benny made the air thrum as you assessed the potential for disaster. The silence was deafening, if only momentary, as the boys tensely awaited your next move.

Pope’s words swirled in your mind.

“I’ll personally make sure Fish doesn’t talk to you”

You had your hard out.

This time though, you didn’t want to take it.

You turned to your ex-boyfriend, seeing his figure slightly hunched and arms firmly crossed.

“Hello, Frankie.”

The words detonated on everyone at the same time, the potential implications rippling across the boys. No one knowing this time what the true aftermath would look like.

He didn’t even meet your gaze.

“Hey Athena.” His tone was blunt, cold, unfeeling. It slammed right into your gut, worse than any blow you’d taken before.

The bastard.

Santi must have sensed the bonfire building in you, his frame coming to block your path to Fish. Before he had chance to say anything though, Benny’s adrenaline became your saving grace.

“C’mon focus guys, it’s fight night!” He chided, throwing a lifeline into the centre of oppressive atmosphere. Will was the quickest to grasp at it, snapping his focus onto his brother.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that bullshit.” he said calmly, throwing a gentle look over at Frankie.

“Sorry, Benny.” You conceded, scratching the back of your neck.

“You ready for this?” Will checked. You knew on these nights that he was often more anxious than his brother, though he would die before ever admitting that to his younger sibling.

“Hell yeah.” Benny confidently replied.

-

Frankie’s jaw ticked as he pretended not to watch the way you had linked arms with Benny, walking in perfect step with him out the room.

Santi hadn’t said a word about you coming. Not a single syllable. He wasn’t sure whether to be mad or relieved. Would it have been worse to know in advance? Worse to have longer to revisit the shimmering ghost of your relationship, to think about the way you used to smile and laugh with him, only to have those images marred by the utter disdain you regarded him with now.

Pope lingered for a moment, waiting for Fish to gather himself. A deep breath and a head shake later Frankie strode out to follow the gang, letting Santi walk a few paces ahead.

The corridor was painfully bright as Frankie emerged from the locker room, he always hated bright spaces. Especially when they were accompanied by white walls that did nothing but highlight the way you were parading Benny down the hall.

He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but the image of you talking, laughing, flirting with the tall fighter was steadily being burnt onto his retinas. You were acting as if Benny had been the one you’d dated, been the one you’d slept with.

Had you?

No. That was a rabbit hole he couldn’t let himself fall down. Not now.

Instead, he opted for turning his attention to Pope.

“I didn’t mean to call your shit bullshit,” He started, hovering just slightly behind his friend. Somehow being shoulder to shoulder for this conversation… well, he couldn’t deal with being that exposed right now. Pope chuckled softly.

“It’s all right.”

“I got busted. It’s not a big deal,” Fish paused, wandering for a moment whether he could let that lie stick. No, he couldn’t. “Actually it’s a big deal.”

“Coke?” Santi asked, almost too knowingly.

Frankie couldn’t say anything, just gave Pope a look of confirmation.

There. It was out now.

“Jesus, Frankie.” Santiago scoffed.

“Technically, it’s a suspension. I’m still under review.”

Pope’s face was unchanging, that same slightly sceptical look drawn across his features.

Frankie knew nothing he said would change that, but at least he’d got it out. Part of him hoped that if Santi knew then, well he’d stop him from doing anything to stupid in the face of his old spectres.

He turned his attention to the stoically quiet Will who was walking a few paces ahead.

“Well, what about you? What are you gonna do?” He asked.

“I said if Athena was in, I’m in,” Will said.

Fish watched as you threw your fist in the air.

“Hell yeah!” You chanted, not looking back at the group.

“Come on, stick with me guys.” Benny asserted.

Fish hated the way your arm tightened round his, holding yourself to him tighter.

“Oh, I’m with you, Benny. But are you with me?” Santiago asked. “Are you in?”

Fuck, how he wished he could un-see the way your eyes peered into the steady expression of his squad mate, forget how your face lit up when Benny responded.

“You know I am. I go where you go.”

“That’s what I thought! Benny stands tall!” Pope slapped Benny’s back, his words alive with excitement.

“Fuck yeah he does.” You affirmed.

The announcements from the main arena were getting louder as the group approached. Frankie nearly walked straight into Santi when the group stopped its pace. The jolting stop had been caused by you and Benny, his eyes immediately locking onto the harrowing scene playing out in front of him.

“C’mere Ben,” You said, reaching to tilt Benny’s cheek towards you and pressing a kiss to the warm skin there. “For luck, not that you’ll need it of course. Go knock em’ out, tiger.”

-

As much as you loved to watch Benny beat the shit out of another dumbass fighter, the climate of ring room had gotten overwhelming hot and oppressive, fast. You shouted to Pope about getting some air, and then slipped into the fresh, quiet open space at the backdoor of the gym.

Your head fell back against the cold concrete of the wall, taking steady gulps of crisp air as you tried to centre yourself a little. You hated loud noise.

Years of training to hone your hearing had made you acquire a preference for quiet places. It wasn’t that your ears were sensitive by any means, years of being near active warzones had made sure of that, but overwhelming noise meant you couldn’t pick up on small hints of danger. It was that which made your heart race and head pound.

The clicking of the heavy door next to you opening alerted you to another presence. You hoped it was Santi, the two of you still had a lot to catch up on after all, but that hope was squashed when the tan jacket of Frankie Morales emerged.

“What do you want, Catfish?” You asked, exasperation lacing your voice.

“What was that?” He asked in return.

“What was what.”

“You. Kissing Benny.”

You tilted your head to get a better look at him. His arms were folded across his chest, cap pulled low over his eyes. His gaze was furtive, eyes flicking between you and the uninteresting tarmac bellow.

“It’s called ‘moral support’.” You scoffed at him.

Frankie shifted his weight, hip jutting out as he rested his hands there. You tried to swallow the small lump in your throat that formed at seeing him do the pose you had loved for so many years.

In the past it had been accompanied by a playful look in his eye before he’d pounce on you, growling slightly as he pinned you to the nearest surface. Usually accompanied by a “You shouldn’t tease me like that, hermosa.”

Now though his eyes were hardened as he stared you down.

You pushed down your emotions. You couldn’t let yourself miss him. Not again. Not now.

“And the flirting?” he retorted

“Me and Ben have always flirted! I only stopped because-“

Because me and you started dating, because I fell head over heels for you faster and deeper than anyone before you, because there is no one who could ever compare to you.

You cleared your throat.

“Anyway, I’m allowed to flirt, Fish. It’s not like I’m seeing anyone right now.” You said sharply.

You heard his breath hitch. Saw his eyes widen slightly in shock, lips parted. For a moment he stared at you, before coming back to his senses.

“You… you’re not?” He stammered slightly.

You sighed. Dragging a single hand down your face, you let it rest on your shoulder before turning to face him fully.

“No,” You said firmly, “I’m not seeing anyone. Do you really think so low of me? That I would come in here and flirt with Benny to what? Make a point? All while I had some partner holed up somewhere waiting for me to come home.”

Frankie’s mouth goldfished at you a couple times. If you had been listening hard enough you may have heard the whirring and clunking of his proverbial cogs turning steadily in his brain. He was frantically trying to think of some way to back pedal on his verbal attack.

No, you categorically didn’t miss him anymore.

“Do us both a favour, yeah? Stay away from me tonight.” You snapped.

You swept past him, back into the bleak walls of the gym. If your strides had been slower, if you hadn’t have been so very desperate to flee, you might have heard his closing remark.

“I thought the world of you, mi petardo.” (“my firecracker”)

 -

Read part 2 here!

-

TAGLIST

@din-damn-djarin​

@phoenixhalliwell​

@legili-mens​

[delicatelyherdreams]

Pragma(tic) 16: He Feels His Heart Break

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 1472

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 15: It’s Way Worse Than She Thought

I don’t love you. 

I don’t love you. 

I don’t love you. 

Those four words repeated over and over again in his head like a sadistic mantra. 

I don’t love you. 

I don’t love you. 

I don’t love you. 

He could hear her voice painfully clear in his head. She’d said them, she’d meant them. He never thought it was possible. Did all their time together mean nothing to her? Did she just take him for granted?

He couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been. He loved her. He loved her with all his being. He’d shown her that over and over again. She’d been nothing but the same to him, fooling him into thinking she loved him back but, if he thought hard enough, he could never recall her actually saying those three words back.

I love you.

She’d never said it, she’d never meant it.

He didn’t know what her aim was, but now he didn’t really care.

He was too busy licking festering wounds to care.

His heart hurt every second of every day. He’d honestly thought she was the one for him. He’d never felt that way about anyone before, and he’d really thought she was the perfect match. Around her, he felt loved and cherished, more so than he had by anyone else. Around her he felt powerful, amazing. Around her, he could be himself, she didn’t mind. She was good to him, witty and sarcastic maybe, but good nonetheless. She always had his best interests at mind and was always willing to let him speak with her about anything and everything.

He’d always thought she loved him. She kissed him like she did, held him like she did, loved him like she did. He could feel the affection in her touch, feel the adoration in her words, see the love in her eyes.

But he’d been wrong. 

She didn’t love him, she said so herself.

Bucky was… Inconsolable to say the least. It was a good thing that the gods didn’t really need to eat mortal food to survive because he refused to take even a single bite.

His mother believed he was overreacting, but then again she hadn’t seen just what (y/n) meant to him.

Steve and Sam knew all too well. They’d been there every step of the way. They’d seen how different (y/n) had made him and how much happier he had been when he started seeing her. They’d been there for his talks about how she was real with him, and they’d seen just how in love with her he was.

They’d also seen how she was with Bucky, and Steve had talked with Peggy briefly about the subject. He refused to believe that (y/n) would say she didn’t love Bucky when she clearly did.

But none of them pretended to know the goddess’ motives. None of them could fathom her reasoning.

The coming of spring took up most of the young god’s time. It was an exhaustive process that demanded most of his energy. Calling forth trees and flowers was what he was good at. Bringing the warm winds of change was a blessing. 

But this year's spring would not prove to be as beautiful as before for it reflected his solemn sadness and represented his loss of love. 

Late in the night, when he wasn’t conjuring new life, Bucky was looking up at the stars, his mind a million miles beneath the ground. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what (y/n) was doing. Was she thinking of him too? Had she completely forgotten him? He didn’t know, and he was too afraid to reach out and see. So many times he’d been close to calling her, but every time he chickened out before he could press the “call” button. He couldn’t call her, not after how she’d told him to stay away. And so he just prayed to whatever deity would listen to him that she would call him first. 

But days passed. Then weeks. And then finally months until two whole ones had come and gone.

She wasn’t going to call.

He realized that after week two. 

If she was going to call she would’ve by then.

But Bucky didn’t lose hope. 

He held out all through the agonizing third and fourth week, continuing to sleep next to his phone just in case she did call him.

But still nothing.

It was by week five that he just gave it up. He had to accept what had happened no matter how badly it stung. No matter how horribly it hurt, it had happened and nothing was going to change that. 

A small stone hung heavy in his pocket and he found himself taking it out time after time again to look at it. It was the ruby she’d thrown at him so long ago. Even though it was as big as a pebble, it might as well have been a boulder. The weight of the ruby held him down, striking his heart with pain because it only made him think of her. 

He wanted to throw it away, to just chuck it off the edge of a cliff and rid himself of the gemstone. 

But he couldn’t. And so, back into the pocket it went. 

At the beginning of week six is when he decided to try and heal. It was then that he realized that he’d have to move on with his life. He had godly responsibilities (although those were few and far between) to attend to and friends to hang out with. He could get on fine without her. He didn’t have any other choice.

She continued to lurk in the back of his mind, a constant painful reminder of what he’d had and what he’d lost, all during that time, but it wasn’t until the end of the second month that he really thought of her again.

It was one of those nights where he just couldn’t sleep and could only stare up at the stars and, like an intruder in the dead of night, thoughts of her crept to the front of his mind.

At once he found himself wishing that he knew why she had said those things. Wished he had stayed longer. Wished he had talked to her. He longed to know what was running through her mind when she sent him away, but he realized that he might never get the chance.

Oh, (y/n)... He couldn’t imagine why she’d leave him. Just earlier that day they’d talked about how they were going to stick it out together, get through it and come out on the other side. What possibly could have changed her mind?

He didn’t know, he had no way of knowing, but he did know that every time he thought about it his heart just ached and ached and ached. He’d given it to her, and she’d destroyed it.

 A phone—his phone—ringing pulled him from his thoughts and he reluctantly rolled over to look at it. He glanced at the caller ID and his breath stopped in his throat. 

(y/n)

With trembling limbs, he reached out to grab the phone and carefully pressed “answer.” Tears welled up in his eyes as he took a shaky breath. For a moment, he thought that her calling was nothing but a dream, but he called out nonetheless, “(y/n)?”

“Bucky.”

A frown tugged at his lips. That wasn’t (y/n)’s voice. It was her best friend’s.

“Peggy?” Bucky asked, his heart hammering against his chest as he sat up.

She didn’t confirm nor deny, but he could tell it was her. Peggy let out a relieved laugh as she whimpered, “Oh, thank the gods… I wasn’t sure you’d pick up.”

“Peggy?” Bucky asked again, his brows furrowing. “What’s going on? Where’s (y/n)?” Why was Peggy calling him from her phone?

“It’s not good, Bucky,” Peggy stammered. She sounded frazzled and panicked. Her voice was trembling. “(y/n)... She’s… She’s dying.”

The world stopped in that instant. It was so sudden that Bucky wasn’t even sure how to process it right away. His breath froze in his lungs. He couldn’t take a breath. He couldn’t move. 

“She… She needs you, Buck,” the woman said, her voice getting choked up and cracking. “Please. Please come see her. I don’t… I don’t know if you’ll get the chance again.”

Bucky forced himself to his feet and reached into his pocket where he always kept the leather pouch (y/n) had given him so long ago. “I… I’m planting a seed now.” He pulled the tiny object from the pouch and tossed it down onto the ground beneath him. As it opened and swallowed him, he found himself praying to any higher power that would listen that he wasn’t too late.

Next 17: Though Mighty, She Falls

[fae-redux]

im stuck on you

S: People usually find their soulmate by following their heart (the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you’ll feel). Remus has been pining for so long, he doesn’t know how to handle himself.

P: dukeceit

happy birthday, @littlemisschameleon!! it’s corona and i can’t give you a physical present so have some dukeceit soulmate au!! i hope you like it :D (here’s an ao3 link if yall like that formatting better)

***

Remus sends the letter because Roman’s teacher thinks a penpal will help him learn English. Also, because Roman thinks it’s stranger danger and won’t. 

If he gets kidnapped, at least there’s a chance for his heart to feel warmer whichever direction his kidnapper goes. Fact remains, he’s freezing and bored and he’d do pretty much anything to not be.

He neglects to say that in the letter. 

His penpal instead receives the gift of approximately two full pages of fun facts about different species of mushrooms and how fast they can decay different animals. It’s pretty well written, if he says so himself, and it’s all in English because he’s polite, not because it has to be.

Any who, Ms. Andrea says she’s not going to read the letters before they’re sent, and Roman is only required to send one at a time, so Remus signs it with his own name and lets it go.

He doesn’t expect the letter he gets back to be so nice.

His penpal’s name is Janus and he doesn’t like to eat mushrooms unless they’re in fried rice, but he loves how mushrooms look.

There are little mushroom doodles that line the bottom, along with a few snakes, which Janus goes on to say is because they’re his favorite animal because of the way they unhinge their jaws.

Remus has never wished to be in the same school as someone more.

***

The next letter they write to each other includes their emails, and Remus takes full advantage of it to send Janus all the deadliest snakes he’s found out about in the library, and includes a pain scale with human accounts of getting bitten.

Janus sends back a heart and fun facts about the deadliest octopi in the ocean. 

He feels his heart get slightly warmer when he hugs the monitor, and when he loudly proclaims he found his soulmate, he gets a laugh from Roman.

He asks him what his plan is here, and Remus tells him to shut his fuck and keep his nose out of it if he doesn’t want to get smacked.

***

When they’re old enough to have phones, they exchange cell numbers, and Remus gets daily updates instead of sporadic emails.

He finds out that Janus likes to dress a little more on the punk side and that he wants a million tattoos as soon as he’s old enough. Janus tells him about foster homes and how he thinks he might be sticking with one of the other kids he met who is a little older than him, but is sort of like him. 

Janus is smart, smarter than anyone he’s ever met in real life, and he wants to go to law school because he knows he can talk his way out of hell if the devil asked him to try, and Remus is inclined to believe he could do it if he wanted to. He thinks through all his words, his every movement, ten times before he follows through, unlike Remus’ zero-thought policy.

He learns that Janus likes boys, but there aren’t really other people in his hometown like him, and that he wants to study in a big city someday so he’s not so alone. 

He learns that Janus wants to keep talking to him forever, or at least that’s what he tells him.

Remus in turn tells him about his brother, and their origin story. He tells him about how everyone else just seemed to have grown out of curiosity and how he feels out of touch with other people his age sometimes. 

There’s still a part of him that feels like he’s been touching all the stars in the sky, but none of them have set his orbit quite right, leaving him drifting endlessly.

He tells him that he might like boys too, but he doesn’t really want to tell his mom because she already rags on him for everything else, like wanting to go to art school and his knife collection and how he’ll never meet his soulmate with an attitude like his. 

He doesn’t tell him about the small seed of doubt in the back of his head that Janus won’t want to stay if he ever meets him in real life. 

He tells him he wants to keep talking forever too.

***

They don’t ever talk about meeting in person. For the first time in their lives, they’re in the same city, but every time he goes to bring it up, seeing a picture of Janus in the financial district, or near his favorite Starbucks, something makes him hesitate. 

Remus wants it so bad, it feels like all the air in his lungs isn’t real sometimes, or like something cut up his insides then spooned all the pieces out to replace them with ice. Still, the thought lingers in the back of his mind that Janus hasn’t suggested it for a reason. 

They still talk all the time though, whether it's to rant about professors, or homework, or siblings, or just about something they saw recently.

Janus tends to hyperfocus on cases he works on in his internship sometimes, and when he’s allowed, he tells Remus all the gory details and grins when he revels in the fun, while also giving valuable insight that contributes to his defense.

Remus in turn sends him the paintings that don’t involve Janus’ face and stupid selfies he takes at random food carts around school that are rumored to give you instant food poisoning. 

He makes sure to send progress updates on the projects he really feels good about and sends him updates on Roman and his new trends, whether they be six second dance videos or random quotes he’s said to him of varying hilarity based on how stupid they are.

The longer he lives in the city, the more Remus knows his heart feels warmer. He’s been feeling it since the start of the semester, but he hasn’t said anything yet, at least not to Janus. Roman is free game, though:

“Roman, I swear to everything fuckable within a ten mile radius, he probably goes to the same college as me,” Remus groans, his feet propped up on the back of the couch as he lies upside down. “I get warmer every time I go to campus.”

“There’s a million colleges in New York, so he really might not be,” Roman says reasonably, doing his eyeliner in the hall mirror. “Besides, he’s pre-law, right? There’s no way.”

“You’re just being uppity because you fricking met your soulmate on campus,” He responds grumbling.

“You’re right, I am. My soulmate’s a genius and I am very lucky to have met him when I did,” His twin’s pride infects the room, and he throws one Roman’s unnecessary couch pillows at him. “If you make me screw up my eyeliner, I’m going to run you through with one of your stupid wall-katanas.”

“They aren’t stupid, and I’m never going to see him face to face at this rate, so you might as well,” he snipes back, his purely decorative wall-mounted katanas be damned.

Roman raises an eyebrow, as if his mocking will affect Remus at all, “I’ll be back in like three hours, then you can mope your heart out, okay?”

He gathers his things from the hall table as Remus yells at his retreating back, “I don’t mope, I’m not you!”

“No, you’re not, and that’s why you don’t have a hot date tonight!” he hears as the door shuts.

He wishes he kept the pillow to suffocate himself with.

***

When Roman knocks on Virgil’s door, he doesn’t expect the person who answers the door to be so familiar, and he’s sure the answering party doesn’t expect him either.

“I thought-Sorry, I thought my roommate’s soulmate was coming over,” Janus says, a flash of recognition in his eyes, completely stunned in a way Roman has never heard while listening in on his brother’s phone calls. 

“Yeah, no, I’m here for Virgil. Janus, right?” And at the immediately suspicious look goes, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you send my brother at least five selfies a week, and he agonizes over your beauty for ages after every single one, you have to know I would recognize you on sight.”

“....Roman?” he asks, like he doesn’t actually know what was going to leave his mouth when he said it.

“That would be me,” Roman just goes for the back of his neck, before wincing at the Remus-like gesture. “So, uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah, yes!” Janus opens the door fully so fast, Roman almost expects him to run himself over, “Do come in. Would you like anything while you wait? Water? Tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Janus hovers for a moment like he’s going to say something, but bites his lip instead, “Want to know how my brother is doing?”

He shifts elegantly, though his chains rattle, making the adjustment more obvious, “Of course not, what do you take me for?”

“A liar, you definitely want to know how he’s doing. Well, you’ll be happy to know he lives fifteen minutes away,” Roman grins, “And he’s home alone right now, pouting about wanting to see you, if you wanna go over.”

“It would be rude to leave you unattended in my home,” Janus replies, his voice strangled. “Arrangements can be made to get Virgil to hurry up.”

Leaving the room in a swift movement of leather and metal, Janus nearly vaults the couch in his haste. Roman can hear him yelling at Virgil to “Hurry up, you nasty, spider-pet keeping bitch,” and his soulmate’s yells to “Get out of my room, you tattooed skank!” Then an offended gasp, “How dare you?” and the snarling response, “You barge into my space and-”

“You hooked up with my soulmate’s brother-”

”Who is my soulmate, idiot!”

“Would you just-”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Janus leaves the room and, in Roman’s line of sight, straightens his shirt as if he’d just been in some sort of scuffle. “Virgil will be out shortly, if you wouldn’t mind giving me the address.”

“You two are going to be related if you marry my brother, you know?” Roman grins as he puts the address into Janus’ phone.

He takes the phone back and rolls his eyes, “We were fostered by the same family. We really can’t get any closer, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We were adopted by the same person, Jan, why do you always conveniently leave that part out?” Virgil grumbles as he enters the room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and be safe.”

Janus sniffs turning up his nose, “I’m going to get violently murdered before I even make it there,”

“Don’t test me, I will put off this date,” he pushes Janus’ head forward so he can’t look up at them. “Be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Janus mumbles, fixing his hat and his chained belt, “Do I look okay?”

“My brother is a trash rat,” Roman responds, louder than he means to, “You will look like a model next to him and you will constantly get questioned as to why you’re in a five foot radius of him.”

“So, good?”

“Fantastic,” Roman confirms. “Now have fun.”

Janus double checks his pockets for his phone and his wallet, and then he books it in the direction of the twins’ apartment.

***

For the first time since he moved in, Remus feels himself getting warmer by the second. It’s not as though he’s moved from his spot going over every single thing that could currently be going wrong at Roman’s date, but somehow, his heart is pounding like he has.

“What do you see?” He asks it, vaguely aware it can’t actually respond. Either his soulmate just figured out where he lives, or there is something extremely important happening in the city.

Picking up his phone to check, it lights up with a text from Roman reading ‘Sending a pick-me-up your way,’ but he has no idea what it means.

After two minutes of constant heat, he searches for major events happening nearby. Nothing.

Five more minutes pass, and he thinks he might die young to a heart attack.

There’s a knock on the door.

His self preservation instincts must be completely nonexistent at this point because he yanks the door open with a knife in his hand and freezes. There, right in front of him, is Janus, who he thought he’d never see, and who was always too good for him, and yet, perfect for him in every way and, “I could have accidentally killed you with one of my many wall-hung weapons because you didn’t knock like Roman,” and that is the first thing he chooses to say to his soulmate.

“I wouldn’t have appreciated the trip to the hospital after I just sprinted over half a mile to see you,” he pants a little, “I know we didn’t talk about it, but Roman showed up at my door, and I knew you had to be nearby, and I just-”

Remus yanks him forward into his arms, and sighs in relief as the heat abruptly goes away, “Mr. I-think-everything-through needed to be impulsive, huh?”

“Yes,” Comes the fervent response as he clings to Remus’ body. “I missed you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to meet up. We didn’t even-”

“I know,” And Janus’ mouth brushes his cheek, just barely, because he’s not tall enough to reach, and Remus bends down, and kisses him soundly on the mouth, the feeling running through his body like a new kind of heat and comfort, and it feels like he’s done it a million times, even if it’s the first time.

Breaking apart, he notices they’re just standing in the doorway of his apartment. “Come inside, sweetheart,” He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, Janus bursting into laughter as he pushes him back. 

“Nope,” He grins fondly, and this is the first day of the rest of their lives, it hits Remus, “I think I’m going to cause problems on purpose.”

“Fair enough, honeybee,” He tugs at the yellow cuffs of Janus’ leather jacket, pressing a kiss to a tattoo at the edge of his hairline, “Want me to carry you? Roman did say he was sending a pick-me-up, and I can definitely pick you up.”

He’s giggling, Remus delights as he scoops him up, kicking the door shut behind them, “If you call me one more pet name, I will combust, and you will have no soulmate to be with, is that what you want?”

And he says what he wants to say, because Janus has never once cared about the shit that leaves his mouth, “Biscuit, I’ve waited so long to see you, even death couldn’t keep me away from holding you.”

Janus pushes into him and kisses him again, putting a hand in his hair, tugging slightly to get the angle he wants, “I wouldn’t want it to,” Then after another kiss, “Love you.”

Remus sighs into his mouth, his world aligning so he could be the orbit to Janus’ sun, the whole system correcting itself. “Yeah,” He holds him just a little bit tighter, “Love you, too.”

[honeybeeespeaks]

Wildflowers

Part One

Word Count: 2426

Warnings: uhhh none I think?? Just super fucking fluffy my dudes

Summary: It was always a girl. The story had been told a million different ways but no matter what, it always came down to a boy in love with a girl.

——————————————

“It was right here, wasn’t it? The last time we had this conversation.” Javier spoke, waving his hand as he looked out the window then back to his father.

“You didn’t listen to me then either.”

“Nope.”

His father grunted, turning his head back to the windshield. “So Cali.”

Javi took a few deep breaths and nodded a few times slowly. “Cali.”

That conversation was all of 10 minutes ago and it was already eating away at him. He’d lied to his father. Sure he’d told a few white lies as a teenager. Going to sleep at so and so’s house when he was actually with a girl or out drinking with the crowd he wasn’t supposed to be with. But since the academy, the DEA, Escobar...he didn’t lie to his father. He didn’t know why it was so difficult just to say it. To tell him about her. The woman who had his heart, consumed his every thought, gave him a reason. So when his dad asked why he wanted to go back...he stayed silent.

He’d agreed to go to Danny’s wedding despite the knowledge that he’d be hounded about his work in Colombia, thanked over and over for something he felt he didn’t deserve the credit for. The real reason he agreed was because he knew Lorraine would be there. Never a better chance to say what he’d been wanting to say for 10 years. He loved this girl, he knew that. There was no way of avoiding it at this point. But he couldn’t say it to her. Not yet. Not until he apologized, for real, to the women he’d hurt all those years ago. It would feel wrong to say it until he’d cleared the air and he’d done so. Lorraine explained again that she’d forgiven him a long time ago. “I ended up where I’m supposed to be. Maybe we both did.” she had said to him. And she was right, like she always had been. He was where he was supposed to be, sort of. As soon as he got back to Colombia and into her arms, he would be. Now, what was stopping him from telling his dad?

His father pulled into the dirt driveway that led to the ranch and parked the truck once they arrived at the house. He turned off the ignition but Javier spoke up before he could get out of the car, sucking in a large breath beforehand.

“Her name is Jane.” he breathed, turning his head to stare out the window. His father shifted in the driver’s seat to look at him. A smirk grace his mouth as he shook his head once and turned back to look through the windshield. It was always a girl. The story had been told a million different ways but no matter what it always came down to a boy in love with a girl.

“She’s down there?” he asked nonchalantly. What he got in response was a single nod from Javier. After a few more moments of silence, Javier spoke, staring out in the passenger window as if he was talking to air.

“She’s a tutor. Helps out at local churches and convents too...” He let out a small sad laugh before continuing. “Nothing to do with...that world..” he rested an elbow on the door, bringing his fingertips to his mouth as he trailed off. He closed his eyes for a moment as he inhaled deeply. He’d been back home for two months but that was two months without touching her, hearing her voice, feeling her body against his as they slept. It was killing him that he didn’t completely know if she was safe. Communication was scarce while she was busy in Bogotá. And two months was becoming unbearable.

“Do you want to marry her?” The question was abrupt and made Javi sit up straight in his seat. He scoffed a little and shook his head.

“I--Christ, I don't know. This life I have...the risk of this. I-it’s not a life for her. Not one she deserves. She’s tough--she is, she’s strong. But I don’t know if I can keep her alive..and the uncertainty of that....” he shook his head as he looked down. A sad chuckle escaped his lips as he picked a hangnail from his thumb. “I’m in love with her Pop...and I'm scared. Hasn’t been like this...Jesus, ever. Not even with Lorraine. This girl, this woman...she’s..”

“She’s your girasol.” His father interrupted plainly. Javier’s head rose to meet his father’s eyes.

The greatest love story he’d ever known was that of his mother and father. He always heard his father call his mother his girasol, his sunflower. He grew up watching nothing but love. But it was the love he fucked up that made him the man he was. Reserved and scared. Now there were even higher stakes. It could all be taken away in an instant. He saw that in Colombia all the time. He saw that with Carrillo’s wife, with too many men’s wives.

He nodded a few times and let out a breath he’d been holding since his dad spoke.

“Yeah...” he looked down, rubbing his hands together as a small smile formed on his face. It fell to a frown again as he looked back up to face his father. “This job..i-it’s my only way back. I have to.” The last sentence came through a whisper as memories from the day he left started flooding his brain.

“What do you mean you have to go?” She followed him through his apartment as he gathered his things, eventually making his way back to his scarce bedroom. “They can’t just make you go home right? Y-You can stay here. You just can’t work. Right?” She stood and watched him pack his suitcase. She felt small, weak. Begging for a man to stay. ‘Fuck I’m just like my mother.’ She thought, cursing herself before submitting to her herself anyways. She stepped forward and squeaked out “Javier..”

He had a hard time looking at her. He had a hard time doing anything right now. He’d fucked up. More than he had ever fucked up. In more ways than one. He knew there’d be consequences, eventually. But nothing could prepare him for this consequence. Losing her. They didn’t even give him time to tell her in advance. Not their fault, they didn’t know she existed. Regardless, it killed Javier to have to come home and break the news that he was being sent back to Texas. To add insult to injury, his flight was leaving later that afternoon.

“They’re sending me home Cariña.” He glanced over at her and sighed, pausing as he put down the shirt he had tried to fold about three times. He walked over to her and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her into him. She melted against his chest, fingers clutching his shirt as her tears began falling silently. His arms snaked around her, pulling her against him as close as he could get her, fingers sliding into her hair and clutching gently. “I’ll come back to you, mi luna. I promise you. I will come back.”

She didn’t mean to breakdown. She wasn’t the type to. To fall apart, really, at all. She refused to. She didn’t get attached. Far too much moving around as a kid to get attached to anything. But with Javier, it was like an addiction. She’d never tried cocaine but she could bet that Javi’s voice and the way he brushed her skin with his fingertips was more potent than a ton of the shit. There she was, shaking in his arms. Silently crying as he rested his chin on the top of her head. Javi wasn’t the greatest with words. He could hold her. He could press soft kisses anywhere he could reach. He’d tried those things before but he wasn’t sure that would cut it this time. He could barely hold it together himself. He cleared his throat, sniffling as he felt a tear grace his cheek.

A knock at the door broke their moment of grief. She lifted her head off his chest and looked up at him frantically.

“N-No. No no no Javi, please. Please don’t..” The final two words coming out in a whimper. Her fingers released his shirt as she moved her arms around his waist and buried her face into his chest again, clutching his back as tightly as she could. The rapping on the door interrupted the heavy air once more. She winced at the sound. She wished she could make it stop. Make Steve go away. Make this all go away. She just wanted Javier.

“M-Mi vida, I must..'' he squeaked out between tears before he cleared his throat and sniffled again. His grip on her tightening. He wasn’t a fan of the idea of letting her go anytime soon either. Steve could shove it, for all he cared right now. One more knock and a muffled “Javi! We gotta go!” before Javier was taking her arms in his hands and unwrapping her from him. He cleared his throat “Yeah yeah, I’m coming Murphy!” he called back before his eyes met hers. His breath hitched in his throat as he looked down at her. A mess of tears and make up. Mascara causing black tears to stream down to her neck. Her red lipstick now smudged, the remnants left on his lips and shirt. “Oh..mi luna..” he slid a hand to the side of her face and brushed her cheek with his thumb. She whimpered pathetically and leaned into his hand. He cupped her cheeks with both his hands now, bringing her up to press a deep kiss to her lips. He pulled back, resting his forehead on hers. Breathing her in for just a few moments before kissing her a few more times, each time a little deeper, a little more desperate.

Steve was banging on the door now and Javier groaned as he had to release her. He pulled off the gray t-shirt he wore, now stained with her lipstick and makeup filled tears and pulled on a red button up. Before he could start buttoning it, she ran over and pulled the shirt together herself. Her fingers shakily doing up the buttons before reaching the top, leaving the last two undone, the way he liked it. The whole time he watched her with a pained look on his face. How could he leave this woman? She placed her hands on his face and looked up at him, stifling her tears as much as she could.

“You better keep that promise Javier Peña.” she whimpered again as his lips crashed against hers.

“Para siempre, mi luna...my Janey..” he smoothed his hand over her hair before letting the other catch hers. He pulled away and picked up his suitcase. He nodded once before intertwining their fingers and pulling her out of the room with him. He moved her behind the front door while he opened it and handed his bag to Steve. “I just gotta grab one more thing, I’ll be right out.”

Steve rolled his eyes with a laugh before starting to walk away. “If you miss your flight it’s all on you dude. I was on time.” Javi forced out a small laugh before shutting the door and immediately pulling Jane against him.

‘Oh Christ...what did I do..’ He thought as he shook his head, his fingers in her hair, massaging the back of her head. Her arms wrapped around him and clung to him like he was her last breath. He took in her scent for the last time before pulling away, placing a gentle kiss against her lips just once more. His hand didn’t leave hers until he had to close the door. He squeezed her hand, hoping to relay the silent message of those three words he couldn’t say yet. She held her breath until the door closed and immediately fell to her knees in desperate sobs. Javi could hear her as he walked away from the apartment. The sound of her made him want to throw up. He wanted nothing more than to stay, to hold her, to tell her everything would be alright. But he had no fucking clue if he was ever coming back. No part of this would be alright. At least not for now.

**---**---**---**---**---**

He’d gotten back to Bogotá on a Saturday. Technically he still had a few weeks of vacation left but he couldn’t take it anymore. From the day he found out he was going back for Cali, he was trying to find any chance he could get to leave as soon as he could. They hadn’t spoken in weeks due to bad service and busyness. He never even got the chance to tell her he was coming back.

He’d gotten a taxi from the airport to take him to her apartment. It was the middle of the day, she may or may not have been home but Javier could care less. Just being close to where she could be was better than two months of being almost 3,000 miles away. The taxi pulled up just as Javier could catch a glimpse of her getting out of her car. He caught his breath before hurriedly paying the man and exiting the cab with his bags. Jane turned her head to the sound of tires screeching as the taxi pulled away and almost dropped her armfuls of grocery bags at the sight of him. She tried stepping forward only to realize she was frozen where she stood. He did the work for her, practically running up to where she was. Her eyes scanned him up and down, around his face and back down again before settling on his eyes.

“J-Javi..” her voice cracked as tears finally started to form, falling as she blinked a few times. He nodded gently, setting his bag down and taking the grocery bags from her, setting them down beside his own. He placed his hands on her arms and squeezed lightly.

“I’m here Janey..”

She inhaled sharply before falling into him, her arms wrapping around his torso, gathering the back of his shirt in her fingers. He let his eyes close as a smile danced along his lips. ‘Yeah...this where I’m supposed to be..’ he thought to himself as his grip around her tightened, peppering kisses wherever he could reach.

————————————————

Well @stevieharrrr....you asked for it😜

Just gonna tag a few darlings I think might like this and if you don’t it’s totally fine it could suck total ass but I’m gonna tag you anyways😂

@coredrive @zeldasayer @pascalplease

I’m too scared to tag anyone else tbh because I’m baby but it’s almost 5am so here we go😅