#It is strange the framing of the text was very messy and hard to follow originally but the new positioning changes the? temperature?

[vargaslovinghours]

Desires? You should know better than that

[hawnks]

Party Attire 

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

r18 (mdni)

wordcount: 1,600

my drabble for the valentines day exchange uwu. for @some-kindofgnome hope i did your wants justice. smooch. 

warnings: dom/sub undertones, oral s** (giving & receiving), edging, spit, size kink

.....................................................................

He’d warned you about that skirt. 

In the hall outside the bathroom of the four star restaurant his parents invited you to. Crowding you against the posh wallpaper. Fingers digging into the skin just below your hemline. Admittedly, it was pushing the boundary between business chic and let me get railed on my five break and then meet you back here to talk about the budget requests. A cute, pink pleated number you’d thrifted a few months back. The weather had just turned right to wear it with some knee socks. It was fun and flirty, you thought. A little daring, sure, but not enough to draw any attention that was too salacious.

Katsuki had other opinions. 

“We get home, I’m fucking you so hard you won’t be able to form a coherent thought for days.” 

He made good on his word. And after pampering you a little bit (no thinking required with your boyfriend literally carrying you wherever you needed to go), Katsuki passed his final judgement on your dinner attire. 

“No.”

You put on your best pout, waggling the (now very stained) skirt at him. He slapped your hands out of his face, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes followed the swish of the fabric, or how they fell to the marks he left on your thighs. 

“Throw that shit out,” he groused. 

You know he would never actually dare to tell you what you can and can’t wear. You also know he had a soft (and inexplicable) spot for that particular outfit. So you don’t feel bad about tucking it away for a rainy day -- after a very thorough washing, at least. 

Now seems like the perfect occasion to break it out again. 

Your boyfriend hasn’t been home in three days. The two of you keep up a constant back and forth over text, but you could tell the stress is beginning to wear on him, his responses getting pricklier and shorter the longer he’s away.

Finally, you get the message you’ve been waiting for. Home in ten.

Just enough time to get ready. 

You hear Katsuki pull into the garage. He likes his cars fast and loud, which has never bothered you -- but the sound of the motor cutting out has your heart thundering in your chest. You’re seated on the plush couch in the den. You’re not sure if you should arrange yourself pleasingly or just plant yourself. You try several poses before you hear the front door open and shut, and Katsuki appears in the doorway, peering at you through the dimmed lighting as you struggle with one leg on the floor and one off. 

It’s an uncomfortable position, and you can’t extract yourself without doing a bit of an awkward shimmy, which you suspect is endearing but not exactly seductive. Finally you end up with your legs hugged against your chest, your eyes trailing over to your boyfriend as he watches you, not moved from his spot by the entrance.

He’s in civilian clothing, sweats and a dark t-shirt, both perfectly fitted. It’s the first time he’d changed from his hero uniform in days, and the loungewear feels strange on his skin. Unnatural. 

He leaves his coat on the floor in a heap, forgotten as he finally starts stalking toward you. His expression is bland, impassive -- but you catch a glimpse of interest in his eyes before your gaze darts, landing on his thighs. They’re massive, just like the rest of him. Sometimes you catch yourself watching him on slow days, as he leans over the stove, or grabs something from the top shelf from you, just marveling at the sheer size, the strength of him. It’s like he was designed with you in mind. Like he was made to make you feel small. 

You can feel the divine heat of him as he stops before you, knuckles brushing your chin up until you meet his gaze. “Cute.”

You lean into his touch, and he cups your cheek, thumb petting the soft skin. “Missed you,” you say.

“Oh, yeah?” He stares at you for a second, the arches and slopes of your face. His thumb continues stoking, moving ever so slightly until he’s rubbing your bottom lip, dragging it down until he can see the dark color of the delicate inner skin. His forefinger creeps in, prodding against the soft point of your canine before finding your tongue. He presses down, a gentle pressure, but one that won’t let you ignore it. “Prove it.”

Your tongue presses back against his finger, licking around it, sucking. You do all of this without modesty, groaning when he presses back, gagging when his finger sinks deeper, edging toward your throat. 

Katuski has big hands. You know that -- how could you ever forget that every part of him is a mountain -- but it’s moments like these that remind you just how big. How much bigger than you. How well he can fill you, in any way he chooses.

Your teeth are held open against his knuckle, and strings of drool begin to trail down your cheeks, land on your chest. Katsuki takes all of this, you, in with red eyes hooded, his other hand clenched at his side until he can’t hold himself back any longer.

With one arm he picks you up by the waist and repositions you, laying on your back beneath him as he straddles your midriff. He wipes the spit from his index finger off on your cheek, peering down at you as you let out another low whine.

“Impatient, huh?” he murmurs. At your eager nod, he grins, all teeth. “Guess I gotta show you who’s in charge here.” 

One hand on the arm of the couch, the other cradling your chin, he crawls up your body until his hips are hovering over your face. 

He lets go of you for just long enough to rip down his sweats, cock hard enough to tap his stomach, just from playing with your tongue, then his fingers are back on you, teasing open your mouth. He grits his teeth as you so willingly let him tap himself against your tongue, a dab of precum already budding at the tip. 

You’re caged in by him from all directions, his thick thighs framing your temples, his hand stroking his cock in slow jerks just above your face. You should feel smothered—instead you feel intoxicated, drowned in his and his domination, and your lips continue to part further and further as he teases you, until you’re gaping and he’s grinning down at you. 

“That’s it baby,” he hisses, nudging his cock in (finally in) to the warm cavern of your mouth. 

He’s too big for you to take all of him like this, laying down, his legs splayed over you, but he continues to prod at the back of your tongue, his hips rolling in a firm, shallow rhythm. He edges himself in your mouth, pulling out and letting his cock smack gently against your cheek, smearing precum and your own spit across your skin. 

“Yeah,” he says, voice worn thin, self control fraying. “So goddamn cute.”

Twice more pulls out just before cumming, smearing your face with your combined slick, groaning as his hips jerk against your jaw. 

With a hiss he crawls off you, goes to his knees on the floor. In less than a second he’s manhandled you into the position he wants, hips hung off the couch, your whole body supported by his strong arms. With a wicked growl he flicks your skirt up, then he lowers his face. 

Nothing Katsuki does could ever be considered sloppy. He’s perfect, sometimes maddeningly so. When he’s between your thighs he does things with a brutal finesse, one that you appreciate to the fullest extent. But what’s happening right now can only be described as messy. 

He still knows how to treat you right, the exact pressure to make you buck, the spot inside to stroke with his index and middle finger while his other hand squeezes the meat of your thigh just this side of painful. But all of that is interspersed with split seconds of ravenous mindlessness. There are moments you don’t know what’s happening because it’s all so much, before he pulls you back in with a perfectly timed tweak of your clit, a particularly firm thrust. 

And when he pulls back, just before you reach your peak, once, twice, three times, his praise is gravely and soft, his eyes have that mean glint that you hate love. 

“Too soon, princess?” he says. 

Or, “I told you to be fucking patient.” 

Or, “Look at you, so fucking fucked. Just let me take care of things baby, I got you. Fuck that look on your face. So good for me—“

And when he finally (finally) let’s you cum on his tongue, he’s quick to follow after. You didn’t even know he’d been jerking off while he was eating you out, but you watch him rise up onto his feet, keeled over as he spends right on your pretty pink skirt. 

He takes a moment to just look at it, you, all fucked out, a loopy smile on your face. He doesn’t think about what does it for him, how he likes how delicate you are compared to him, or how sometimes he just wants to fuck you up a little, how the urge lives closer to the surface when he’s stressed. Like today. 

He runs an index finger through the cooling puddle caught in a pleat of your skirt, brings his wet finger up to paint your swollen bottom lip. 

He says, “Was thinking about Italian for dinner tonight.” 

[thebonerpit]

suck it and see [FIC]

suck it and see

Rom Howney, 2749 words, [E], read on Ao3 here

Robert invites Tom over for dinner. Has his gag reflex improved? (Not me writing a sequel to this fic almost a year later...)

Five months later, and Tom is wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

After “The Call”, as he’s been referring to it, Robert has been nothing but sweet and courteous and respectful. Once the post-orgasm adrenaline faded, Tom hasn’t been able to drum up the courage to talk about what happened between them and Robert never brings it up explicitly either. It’s been months of brief text threads during quiet moments, the odd video of Robert’s cats or a photo of the sunset, and Tom getting embarrassingly hard whenever Robert says something remotely flirty. Nothing at all that suggests it might ever happen again. That is, until Tom mentions he’s going to be in L.A. for a week.

“Come see me. I’ll make you dinner.”

“YOU’LL make me dinner? Or your private chef will make me dinner?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me you little shit. Tuesday work for you?”

It doesn’t, but Tom rearranges his entire schedule to get there.

The black jeans he’s chosen are practically painted on, but in an effort to appear completely casual and unbothered he throws on a soft pastel pink hoodie and a baseball cap. No need to mention how long he takes in the shower beforehand. No need at all.

The Uber drops him off and he notes that there are no other cars to be seen, and very few lights on in the house. He didn’t even consider that they might actually be alone and now that it’s hitting him he kind of feels like throwing up. Before he can scope out the best bush to heave into, the door opens.

“I know my front yard is pretty amazing but are you going to stand out here all night?”

Oddly enough, seeing him in person, leaning against the door frame with a dish towel in one hand, Robert Downey Jr. in the flesh, actually calms him down. His brain reroutes from panic to excitement and he rushes forward to give him a tight hug, which Robert gladly returns.

“Good to see you,” he says quietly, almost directly into Tom’s ear. The closeness makes him shiver slightly but he manages to cover it with another tight squeeze before rocking back on his heels.

“Same, boss,” he says with a broad smile. Robert cocks his head and smiles back fondly before patting his cheek and stepping back into the foyer.

“Come on, it’s almost ready.”

“Are you really cooking for me?”

“Of course,” he says, like he’s offended Tom is even asking.

It smells incredible, whatever it is, and Tom removes his hat, happily perches on a bar stool, and accepts the beer Robert hands him. They chat amiably while Robert cooks, and soon Tom forgets why he was ever nervous in the first place. It’s just like how it was on set, or backstage at some industry event, joking and laughing and catching each other up on their respective lives. One of the cats jumps up and kneads at Tom’s lap for a while before padding away to search for its own dinner.

Domestic, Tom thinks briefly, before shooing that horrible thought away.

Dinner is pasta with homemade sauce and Tom devours it.

Robert raises an eyebrow as he slurps up his last noodle and Tom sheepishly hides behind his napkin as he tries to wipe off the spattering of red sauce on his cheek.

“S’really good,” he mutters, and Robert just laughs.

He helps him clean up, despite Robert’s protests. He sets the last pot on the rack to dry and turns to see Robert staring at him, a contemplative expression on his gorgeous face.

“What? More pasta sauce?” Tom asks, swiping at the corner of his lips with one thumb.

“Nah. Just looking.”

“Oh. Ok?”

Robert smirks and saunters over and Tom feels his back hit the fridge. Trapped. Nowhere to go.

“This is cute,” Robert says, tugging at the string of Tom’s hoodie. “Suits you.”

“Uh. Thanks,” Tom replies dumbly, unable to look away from Robert’s mouth. He barely catches the way Robert’s eyes flick up to his own before he looks away and exhales softly. It’s a sound of resignation, and Tom’s heart speeds up to a panicked flutter. As soon as Robert starts to back away, he snakes his arm out and grasps on to his wrist. It shocks them both and they can’t do anything but stare at each other for a moment before Tom finally caves and lets himself think with his dick.

He opens his mouth, extends his tongue slightly, and waits.

Robert’s eyes are dark, the gorgeous honey-brown devoured by his pupils, and Tom sees him swallow. He does his best to encourage him, to beg without saying a word, but when Robert still hesitates, he slowly drags his hand up to hover between them. Then he lets go of Robert’s wrist. It’s on him now, and he looks very much aware of this fact.

“You sure?” he finally rasps out. Always the gentleman, even when Tom doesn’t want him to be. He nods and sticks out his tongue even more, his eyes almost crossing at he stares at Robert’s thick fingers just inches away from his mouth.

“Have you been thinking about this?” he asks. Tom nods again and shivers as those fingers run the length of his jaw. “Yeah. Me too.”

Without warning he pushes two fingers into Tom’s mouth, dragging them across his tongue and settling them just past the second knuckle. Tom whines and starts to close his lips around them but Robert’s other hand darts up quickly to grab his chin.

“Ah-ah,” he tuts. “Did I say you could do that?”

The blood that rushes immediately downwards nearly makes Tom pass out.

Robert pets his tongue until Tom’s mouth overflows with saliva and it starts dripping down his chin and on to his hoodie.

“Such a messy boy,” Robert says. Tom gurgles out a moan which makes Robert tighten his grip on his jaw. “On your knees.”

Tom drops so fast he feels his knees crack against the marble tile. It hurts but he doesn’t even care. All he can feel is his dick hard against the zipper of his jeans and Robert’s fingers dragging through his hair.

“So pretty,” he murmurs as he lets his fingers slip out of Tom’s mouth.

Tom tries to lean in, close the distance between his mouth and the growing bulge in Robert’s jeans, but he feels those fingers tighten in his hair. He glances up and sees Robert staring down at him with an expression not dissimilar to the one he had months ago on their video call.

“If you want to stop, all you have to do is say the word.” Robert’s voice is quiet but steady. “Or pinch me really hard if your mouth is… otherwise occupied.”

Tom shudders at the implications of that.

“I need to hear you say you understand.”

“I do! I… I understand. Want this, want you, everything… anything you want,” Tom says, tripping over his words in his haste to reassure him because he thinks if Robert stops now he might actually cry.

Robert exhales sharply through his nose. “Jesus… fucking… alright. Ok. Get up, follow me.”

Tom scrambles up off the floor and follows Robert as he leads him through into what looks like a den. It’s dimly lit, thick curtains pulled closed on the windows, and the walls are lined with bookshelves. Robert pulls him down on to a plush couch and takes his jaw in his hand again, licking his lips before diving in for a searing kiss, and Tom allows himself to be devoured. He suddenly realizes that this is actually their first kiss, but before he can dwell on it too long Robert pulls back and, as gently as possible, pushes him down to the floor between his knees.

“I hope you’ve been practicing more,” Robert says as he undoes his jeans. “Show me what you can do.”

As soon as the fabric of Robert’s boxers is out of the way, Tom doesn’t hesitate. He’s been waiting for this for months and the sight of that gorgeous cock in front of him makes his mouth water. He takes the head in his mouth without preamble and the low groan that Robert lets out spurs him on to take even more. It’s a bit messy, saliva already dripping out the sides of his mouth, but if the noises Robert is making are any indication, he’s doing a pretty damn good job regardless. He feels those thick fingers curl back into his hair and only has a moment to steel himself before Robert’s hips snap up and he chokes, eyes watering immediately as the thick cock tries to force its way down his throat. He tries to relax but it doesn’t work and he has to pull away, coughing and wiping at his chin.

“S-sorry, let me… I can—”

“Shh, no, you were doing well. I shouldn’t have… couldn’t help myself.”

Fuck, he sounds wrecked already. Pride bubbles up in Tom’s stomach and he dares to look up and offer a small smile, batting his eyelashes just a little.

“Want to keep going,” he says, “please?”

Robert bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before shifting on the couch.

“Come up here, let me… here, just like this.” He pulls Tom up like he weighs nothing, arranges him on the couch so he’s laying on his back with his head hanging off the edge.

“It’s easier like this, sweet thing,” Robert says as he stands over him. “Opens your throat up. Do you trust me?”

“God, yes,” Tom breathes out. He knows he should behave and wait for instructions but he can’t help surging up to lick at the base of Robert’s cock, hanging heavy over his face. It makes him shudder and Tom feels a drop of precome fall on his cheek.

He sees Robert shudder and gets a gentle slap across his face as a reward.

“Brat,” he rasps out before shoving his cock down Tom’s throat.

The angle is so strange and Tom’s eyes widen with panic before he realizes that yeah, it actually is easier like this? Once you get used to the whole upside-down part. He trusts Robert to hold his head as he relaxes his muscles, letting his throat go slack and just accepting every thick inch he gets.

There’s a bitten-out curse as Tom feels his nose press against Robert’s balls.

“Give me—fuck, your hand,” Robert says. He obeys, immediately, and Robert brings it up to wrap around Tom’s own throat. “Can you feel it?”

Tom nearly shoots off right then and there as Robert moves and oh my fucking god yes he can feel it. The thick line of Robert’s cock is stretching his throat out and he gurgles out a moan around it which makes it twitch against his hand.

“Such a pretty little cocksucker,” he grunts. Tom bucks his hips into the air, desperate for friction, Robert’s dirty words turning him on more than he could have ever imagined.

“Look at you… you want to touch yourself, hm?”

Tom can’t answer so he just whines and wiggles his hips again which causes Robert to grunt and jerk forward which in turn causes Tom to choke and gag again. Robert immediately pulls out and pets the side of Tom’s head while he inhales shakily, catching his breath.

“Ok?” he asks, rubbing a thumb along Tom’s swollen bottom lip.

“Yeah… ok.” Tom is shocked by the sound of his own voice, raw and scratchy and thick. Thank fucking god he doesn’t have to work for the next little while. “More?”

Robert chuckles and leans down to kiss along the side of his neck. “Want to see you come with my dick down your throat. Can you do that for me?”

“Fuck… fuck, yeah, yeah I can do that.” He scrabbles at the buttons and zippers on his jeans and shoves them down to mid-thigh along with his boxers. His hoodie is already a mess, covered in his own spit, but he pulls it up his chest anyway. If this also happens to show off his cut abs and pink nipples, well, it’s just a bonus. He hears Robert groan softly and then suddenly his field of vision is eclipsed by a furred stomach as Robert leans over him to kiss at his chest, his hipbones, and fuck, Robert’s mouth is on his dick.

“Ohmygod,” he slurs, digging his nails into the fabric of the couch as an incredibly skilled tongue laves up and down his erection. He can feel the bristle of Robert’s beard on his thighs and it sends electric shivers through his body.

“Tastes so good,” Robert murmurs, licking up one side and then sucking on the head briefly before letting Tom’s cock fall back against his stomach with a loud slap. Tom whimpers – actually whimpers – as Robert pushes himself back upright and he can see the cocky smirk on his face even from this strange angle.

“There, made it nice and wet for you. Go on sweetheart, show me how pretty you look when you come, hm?”

Tom doesn’t have time to answer as Robert slides his cock back into his throat. The sensation of that alone makes his eyes roll back in his head but now that he has permission to touch himself, he doesn’t hesitate. The slickness from Robert’s saliva eases the way for his own hand as he jerks himself off quickly, no patience for finesse or teasing, just pure need racing through his veins. He gets close embarrassingly fast, partly thanks to the steady stream of filth that Robert is muttering above him.

“That’s it, just like that baby, so fucking pretty aren’t you? You like having a nice fat dick down your throat, hm? Yeah, I know you do, look at you, just made for it, fuck, yeah, keep touching yourself, keep jerking that pretty cock sweetheart, make a mess of yourself for me, come on, come on, let me see you…”

It’s relentless and Tom can’t get enough. He doesn’t want it to end, quite frankly, but he’s teetering right on the edge and when Robert simultaneously shoves himself as deep as he can go and squeezes a hand around his throat he jerks violently and comes all over himself. It’s the most powerful orgasm he’s ever had and his body feels like it will never stop convulsing. It’s only when he finally relaxes enough to try to catch his breath that he realizes that he can’t actually breathe at all. Robert is still buried deep in his throat, grinding his hips against his face like Tom is just a warm, wet hole to be used. It sends a brief flutter of panic through him, but it also makes his spent cock twitch against his stomach. Robert is grunting and Tom feels drops of sweat landing on his chest, mixing with the cooling puddles of come. He must be close. He has to be. He needs to be or Tom is going to actually pass out.

He’s just about to raise his hand to pinch Robert’s thigh when he feels a rush of warmth slide down his throat. It’s so deep he can’t even taste it until Robert pulls out and lets the rest drip all over his mouth and face. As Tom gasps for breath Robert maneuvers him into a sitting position and rubs at his back, soothing him as he coughs and sniffles and wipes at the absolute mess on his face with his ruined hoodie. When he finally settles a bit he can hear Robert murmuring to him.

“Such a good boy… such a good boy, sweetheart, you did so well, that’s it, deep breaths…”

Tom sniffles again and blinks up at Robert’s face. He smiles softly.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Feeling ok?”

Tom nods. His throat is killing him but he doesn’t want to make Robert feel bad about it. Plus, he asked for it and he doesn’t know if it makes him a little fucked up in the head for liking it.

“I… I want…”

“Shh, don’t try to talk now. Let me get you some water. You…” Robert pauses. He leans in and kisses Tom’s forehead almost chastely. “You were incredible. Just sit. Let me take care of you.”

Tom smiles again and nestles into the crook of Robert’s neck, sated and content.

[rebellconquerer]

oooh, could we get 9 (you're in love with her) for the prompt meme. bucky and sam talking about sarah?

Here you go Anon, angst and feels. Will be crossposted to AO3. Technically a missing scene from In The Woods Somewhere, it'll be a little confusing if you haven't read that. Also it's a bit long.

Sam is worried. He’s trying very hard to hide it as he saunters down the gleaming walkway that leads to the Wakandan apartment they have set Bucky up in for his recuperation, but the fact remains that he is just a bit…worried.

The after had been worse than he expected. After Sarah had left, after Shuri had figured out the deprogramming, after they had started the process. He'll be honest, he hadn't been around much the first time. A mix of him not really knowing or trusting Bucky when this happened before (and vice versa), combined with Steve's almost obsessive need to shelter and protect Bucky then.

Still, the deprogramming had gone about as well as could be expected and Sam had remained with Buck until midway through the first week when major cities across Europe had started to be attacked by some weird environmental monsters. Hill, and then Fury himself, had reached out to say that the kid, Spiderman or whatever, had the situation under control and that they would call in reinforcements if they needed it. So Sam had stayed with Bucky for the first couple of days after the deprogramming as they were testing it to make sure it took, then some tv nutjob had leaked the kid's name.

Very few of the Avengers bothered with secret identities, but the kid was like 15 or something, so Hill had requested Captain America come help out with PR, ensuring that no one believed a teenager could be one of the Avengers.

Sam had said no initially, obviously, but Bucky had insisted he was fine and didn't need a babysitter. Had even managed to say it without that crazed, trapped animal look behind his eyes he got sometimes, so Sam had jetted off to New York for a few days. He had gotten exactly two texts from Bucky during that time. One that said 'I'm fine, mom' on day one and a thumbs-up emoji on day three.

Then Sarah had called him, trying to be all relaxed and casual as she fished for what the hell was going on in Wakanda cause Bucky hadn't spoken to her or responded to her since she left. As ancient as the dinosaurs though Buck may be, he damn well knows how to use a phone, and him deliberately cutting himself off is… concerning.

He comes to the right apartment number and knocks, then waits, then knocks again. Still no response. Sam frowns. He knows he's in there. Shuri told him they've still been monitoring his vitals and that he had requested a bit of time to himself in the aftermath, but he wasn't in the clear yet so she knew where he was.

Sam pounds on the door again.

"Buck, it's me. You gonna open up?"

Silence.

"Ok, Bucky, here's the thing, you either let me in or I'm calling Ayo or Shuri to override this lock… come on, man. Please." Sam whispers at the door, knowing Bucky's advanced hearing will pick it up.

He doesn't want to call in reinforcements and doesn't want to invade Bucky's space if it's not necessary, but as he mentioned before, he's worried.

He waits for one, then another overly long minute before the door finally opens.

Bucky looks like shit. His hair is messy and greasy. His blue eyes stand out as bright spots in the pallor of his face, broken only by the intense, almost bruise-like dark circles under his eyes. His cheekbones don't stand out as much as they did when Sam left so at least he was gaining back the weight he had lost, but he's standing with a blanket around his shoulders, hunched in and holding himself like the feral creature he hasn't been in years.

"Buck?-"

"You wanted to see me, you've seen me. Can you go now?" Bucky says flatly, eyes glinting with the acerbic 'fuck off' his lips haven't yet formed.

Oh hell no.

Sam slips his foot in the door just as Bucky goes to close it, preventing it from shutting. When Bucky pulls the door back open, Sam slips inside, pushing past Buck as quickly as he can.

Bucky growls, closing the door behind him and turning a glare on Sam.

"No please, come in. I'm definitely in the mood for visitors." Bucky says sarcastically.

Sam glances around the room. It's a lot like the first apartment they all stayed in together. Floor to ceiling windows cover one whole wall, the kitchen is immaculate, clearly unused, like most of the rest of the space, save for the couch where the cushions have been left haphazardly on the floor.

"Buck. What the hell is going on here?" Sam asks, voice coming out much softer than he intended. Bucky'd been in rough shape when he left, but he had been clearly on the mend. That was the only reason Sam'd even agreed to go help out.

"Nothing. I'm fine. I don't need you here." Bucky grits out, that muscle in his jaw flexing.

Sam stares for a minute then sighs. He's starting to get it, the lines of pain that seemed to carve through Steve whenever Bucky had pushed him away. It's hard for Sam to see the desperate way Bucky is holding himself while still pulling away, and Sam hasn't been his lifelong best friend.

"Look Buck, you're entitled to a couple bad days, but I'm going to need you to convince me that this is a par for the course breakdown and not something worse 'cause we've had a monumentally rough couple of weeks," Sam says clearly.

Bucky holds his gaze for a long moment before the harsh lines of his face seem to soften and he ducks around Sam, heading back to the couch.

"Like I told you, I'm fine." He mutters as he moves. "It's just… the come down from the deprogramming is a bitch, ok?"

Sam frowns, following him to the couch and sitting next to him.

"Would you like to elaborate, Buck?"

Bucky sighs, scrubbing both hands through his messy hair.

"Best as I understand it, it's like coming down from a high or something. There are a lot of biochemicals involved in the process and the washout… well it sucks." He shrugs. "Plus the process itself is like opening Pandora's box up here," he mutters, tapping the side of his head. "It leaves me… what I mean is it makes me-"

"Your nightmares get worse." Sam finishes for him. Bucky doesn't look up, doesn't say or do anything really.

Sam huffs. "Why didn't Shuri tell me? I expect this bullshit from you, but from her?"

Bucky goes very still, continuing to avoid eye contact. It finally clicks.

"She doesn't know, does she? You never said and… neither did Steve. That's why the two of you were hold up on that little farm for so long after. For god sake, why the hell didn't you say anything Buck?"

Sam doesn't try to hold back the frustration bleeding into his voice.

"That child has more than enough of my pain on her hands. She doesn't need any more. And I'll remind you… I never expected to have to do this again." Bucky finishes softly. Sam's anger deflates as suddenly as it started.

They sit in silence for a minute, Sam watching Bucky, Bucky pretending that Sam isn't watching him until Sam finally breaks.

"Is this why you haven't spoken to Sarah? She called me, you know, said you'd been ducking her calls."

Bucky's expression changes minutely then and if Sam hadn't known him as well as he does, if they hadn't been basically living in each other's pockets for the last year, he wouldn't have recognized it: a quick flash of guilt.

"Buck, what's going on in that head of yours?" Sam asks seriously. "Didn't I tell you if you break her heart I'd break your legs?"

Bucky huffs out a bitter laugh. "Actually the last I heard on the matter you said you'd kill me if I hurt her but we'd be ok. Way to send mixed messages by the way buddy."

Sam can't sit still any longer. This whole experience is surreal. God, he needs a vacation. He strolls over to the kitchen, filling a glass with water for himself and another for Buck. He places the second glass in front of Bucky and backs up to lean on the counter, careful not to hover.

He takes a long drink, draining half the glass in one go as Bucky just stares at his.

“How was New York?” Bucky eventually asks.

Sam shrugs. “Went okay. No one is quite ready to call Captain America a liar to his face, even that piece of shit blowhard.”

That earns him a small smile from Bucky. “You think it’ll hold?”

“Well, they’ve got Pepper, Rhodey, Hill and Fury against them. I’m not sure much could stand up to that team long term so I wouldn’t worry about it.” Sam replies. Bucky isn't going to succeed in changing the topic, but maybe going the long way around will help.

They drop back into the silence. “I think Shuri is gonna let me go in a few days. The deprogramming seems to be holding.” Bucky finally says, still staring unblinkingly at his water.

Sam sighs. “You ready to come back to Delacroix?”

Bucky makes an uncomfortable-looking face, a strange cross between constipated and in pain. “I-I was actually going to go back to New York. Haven’t been home in a while, you know,” he says carefully.

Sam frowns.

“Alright Barnes, cut the crap. My nephews have been worried about you, Sarah is worried about you. What are you thinking-”

“I’m thinking that maybe this is the time to let it… let it die.” Bucky interrupts, eyes flicking up to Sam, a hard look on his face.

Sam just stands there, gaping at him for a minute.“The fuck do you mean, let it die?”

That unearthly stillness that Bucky usually carries in his frame starts to fray. He stands up, pacing to the window. “Sarah and I had a fight the night before I agreed to let Shuri do the deprogramming,” he says, then just leaves the sentence hanging.

“Yeah, the whole goddamn world could have guessed that." Sam prompts. "You’re stubborn as hell. If she got you to reconsider it wasn’t with sweet nothings whispered into your ear.”

Sam watches the tips of Bucky’s ears go a little bit red as he ducks his head at that. He really doesn’t want to know any details about whatever memory that triggered. Bucky still doesn't continue.

“So what, are you angry with her?” Sam asks.

“What? No! Of Course not!" Bucky responds, turning to face him. He still looks weary and a little… lost.

"She said… she said she didn't think I wanted this life. That I hadn't gotten to choose it and so I was too comfortable throwing it away." Bucky mutters staring at the floor.

Sam frowns in confusion. That was harsh. Probably entirely truthful, but harsh nonetheless. And Sarah said he was tough on Buck.

"Ok…" Sam prompts again.

"She said I needed to think about what I wanted to live for. What future was worth fighting for because without that I'd always be … stuck." Bucky goes quiet again and Sam's frown deepens.

He doesn't get it. Doesn't get what Bucky is trying to tell him. "Ok, so you did that and decided that she isn't in that future?" Sam tries, keeping his voice as flat and without judgment as possible.

Bucky doesn't look at him, just keeps staring at the floor between them, the expression on his face pained. Sam watches him clench and unclench his teeth, the muscle in his jaw jumping. But still, Bucky says nothing.

It's Sam's turn to pace. He pushes up off the counter, walking closer to Bucky as he rubs at his temple. He's tired and stressed and he's been through too much in the last 3 weeks to play decoder with Bucky and his-

He comes to an abrupt stop beside the couch. The gears in his mind grinding to a halt so suddenly he thinks you should be able to hear them shrieking.

He turns to face Bucky, eyes tracing over the tight lines of his body as astonishment slides in under his skin, under his breastbone, and behind his eyes. How had he not seen it before? How had he not noticed?

“You’re in love with her.” he breathes out, the acknowledgement hitting like a brick. Bucky goes absolutely still as Sam stumbles back a few steps, sitting heavily on the arm of the couch.

“That’s what this is about. You’re in love with her and you’re afraid.”

“Look at me Sam, look at me?!” Bucky's voice is raspy, hollowed out. Sam lifts his gaze and meets Bucky's eyes.

“I’m a mess. On a great day, I’m a fucking mess. Most days I feel like I'm barely holding on to who I am because of what I am. On a bad day?” Bucky looks back out the windows, eyes going unfocused. “I shouldn’t be in love,” he whispers flatly. “What right do I have to get this after all the carnage I have caused. What right do I have to bring someone else into the hell that is my life.” He sighs then and leans back on the window, sliding down the glass to sit on the ground. The movement is slow, achingly so, making him look every one of his 107 years.

Sam slips from the arm of the couch coming to sit on the ground facing Bucky.

“This isn’t you Buck." He whispers. "This is the deprogramming and the night terrors. This is the lack of sleep and bone tiredness talking. This isn't you."

Bucky laughs, the sound empty. "Isn't it? Are you sure about that? Because I'm not."

"The two of you have been going great. You haven't been afraid before now, is this all fallout because of what happened, because Buck, you can't let that asshole Novikov take her from you."

Bucky lets out a slow breath, tilting his head back against the glass and staring at the ceiling, face blank. "Too good. It's been too good." He mutters and the last piece of the puzzle falls into place for Sam.

"She told you, didn't she? She told you she loves you."

Bucky's eyes flick down to his, expression sharp. "She told you what she was going to do?" Bucky asks, suspicion clear in his tone.

Sam shakes his head. "She didn't have to. You forget I've known her a lot longer than you have. I know what my sister looks like when she's in love."

He has one of those moments where he wishes Steve were there because he feels he would know what to say to help. But that's not really true. He'd watched Steve stumble through enough of these conversations to know he would be just as lost. Not that it matters. Steve's gone now. Left them both.

"It was fine when it was just you, right? When you'd be the only one risking anything? But it’s different now you know that she’s as far in as you are.” Sam mutters.

Bucky’s staring at the ceiling again, face blank. “That’s not it. I’m not afraid. I’m just seeing things clearly for the first time in a long time.” he mumbles.

Sam’s lips twist into a rueful smile. Clearly? Bucky hasn’t been this muddled in a year. “You know I almost flunked out of Pararescue training?” Sam asks, trying a different tact.

Bucky looks over at him, frowning confusedly. Sam nods slowly, looking down at his hands.

“I got referred by my prior C.O. Spent 2 days in the air over the course of the first week and decided it was not for me. I mean, it was madness, right? Jumping out of a plane with nothing on but some wings someone else had made?”

Bucky smirks. “That’s real hard to believe, Sam. You’re a natural.”

Sam shakes his head. “Nah, Riley was a natural. Took to the skies like a duck to water.” Sam can still hear the excitement in Riley’s voice after his first jump. How he could barely catch his breath to talk because all he wanted to do was laugh and grin.

“Went back to my C.O. Told him thanks for the recommendation but… I couldn’t do it. He fed me this bullshit story about how some scientist somewhere had done some experiment, right? That they gave a group of people some glasses that flipped the world upside down.” Sam looks up at Bucky to find him staring back at him, blank look retreating, intense blue eyes focussed.

“The first two days everyone was walking around bumping into things, begging to be let out of the experiment, but by the end of the third day, they had all adapted. Their world was normal again. He told me to give it three days, and I did.”

Bucky purses his lips and looks away, letting the meaning of the words sink in.“You realise you’d already been there for more than three days, right? You said it was the end of the first week.”

Sam huffs out a tired laugh. “Man, do you ever get tired of being a pain in the ass?” he asks.

Bucky slips into that small, sad smile he wears so well. “All signs point to no,” he mutters back.

“It’s been a long fucking month, Buck. I’m not saying you’re wrong or you’re right, but… just give yourself a moment to adapt to your new normal before you go making any drastic decisions.”

Bucky doesn’t respond for a while, but then he nods slowly, still refusing to look at Sam.

“And honestly, Buck, no jokes this time. Whatever happens, I’ll still be here. You don’t have to be alone.” Sam says as clearly as he can.

Bucky finally looks back over to him. “Guess Steve was right leaving me to you.”

It’s Sam’s turn to look away, laughing. “Nah. He left us to each other,” he replies easily.

“We’re probably giving the punk too much credit. Like he ever thought ahead in his whole stupid life… but… the same goes for you, you know. I’ll be here as long as you need me, for whatever that counts as.” Bucky says.

Sam looks up at him, their eyes meeting and he can’t help but smile, relaxing the tension a little. “So you love her, huh? You realise she’s just a less pretty version of me. This is tantamount to you declaring your undying love of me.”

Bucky lets out an honest to God laugh. “You ever get tired of being so in love with yourself?” he fires back.

Sam shrugs, pushing himself up off the ground and reaching a hand out for Bucky. He looks at it a moment before he grabs on and Sam pulls him to his feet, wrapping one hand around his shoulder and leading him back to the couch.

“Well honestly, someone has to be.” Sam jokes.

Bucky laughs again

[chilling-seavey]

so i have some ✨interesting✨ ideas for ABM. so this is the best friend phase where Daniel gets frat dragged to some frat party with the guys and some girl goes up and talks to him, but he's too hung up on Florence so he ✨kindly rejects her✨ or something hahaha. Or instead of that lol maybe the first time he met Caleigh?

Oh gosh I got a little carried away with this one...thank you for sending it in! I kind of combine both your ideas here hehe

April 3, 2020

Florence was always busy. Busy being a mom, busy being pregnant, and busy with both Grayson and Emilio. Despite their status as forgiven best friends, Daniel was trapped under a mountain of feelings. It was all too apparent that the baby could be his but only he and his friends knew that – not even Florence – as well as the fact that it made him sick to see her with other guys. Daniel hated it. He wasn’t a hateful person but he hated it.

So his friends forced him out to a party to get his mind off everything and to actually live like a college student for once. It was hosted the day after his twentieth birthday too so they also used it as an excuse to celebrate him even if the party was thrown for no good reason down the street.

Daniel was squished between Corbyn and Jack as they headed into the crowded house, the music already pounding his head and the smell of weed and cheap beer reeked over every surface. Daniel hated parties and the frat houses down the street already had the worst kind of them.

Zach and Daniel stuck to the back of the group as their four friends led them farther into the messy house. Drinks were passed around and the boys mingled right into the crowd, talking loudly to classmates or finding random girls to chat up. Jonah – who was still involved with the girl from the bar from Corbyn’s birthday celebration – took up beer pong with Zach, the younger boy losing miserably and ending up nearly falling over his own two feet by the sixth glass he chugged.

Daniel found himself standing at the table watching their game but his eyes drifted around the house, past Aidan and Jack on the back porch sharing a joint with a few other guys and Corbyn in the living room trying to talk up a girl with space facts. She walked away with an eyeroll and Corbyn frowned. Daniel looked down to the can in his hand and swirled the drink around before taking a sip.

He never could take alcohol well so by the second can he was already feeling that buzz. But at least it made him forget about his issues for a moment.

“Daniel! Bro.” Jack stumbled up behind him and slapped a hand on his shoulder to yank him around. He was already nearly plastered himself and he smelt like weed, making Daniel scrunch his nose up. “Bro…I want you to meet some people. Come here.”

Jack pulled Daniel out of the house and onto the covered back deck into the cloud of smoke.

“Everyone,” Jack fell to a stop, patting a hand against Daniel’s chest, “this is my good buddy, Daniel. He’s so fucking single. And he needs to get laid.”

“Jack-” Daniel spoke softly.

Jack only laughed, the group joining in, and he smacked his hand on the side of Daniel’s face, “Lighten up, bro.”

Daniel only drank his beer and ignored him.

“Have a hit.” someone held out a glass bong and a lighter to him.

Daniel shook his head and shrugged Jack off his arm to head back inside. He didn’t know how long they had been there but it felt like far too long. Daniel leaned up against the kitchen counter that was littered with empty cups and cans and sticky from spilt drinks. He took out his phone to find a few messages from Florence.

Clementine wants me to tell you that she can count to fifteen now. She’s very impressed with herself. Come over tomorrow if you’re not too hungover and she can blow your socks off in person.

I don’t know if I want to say have a drink for me or say don’t drink too much.

Wish I was there with you. Emilio’s taking good care of me though. He brought over dinner and

Daniel audibly scoffed, not even bothering to finish reading her last message, and slid his phone in his pocket again and finished his drink. He tossed the can in the sink before pulling out another from the lukewarm box on the counter and cracked it open.

Corbyn was still in the living room, chatting up some girl who was giggling at everything he said, and Daniel shoved himself down onto the couch beside him. He was ignored and just focused on his drink, the suffocating environment of the frat house was making him on edge. He drank some more.

When the wall in front of him was hazy and his body felt warm and tingly, Daniel’s mind was still hung up on Florence. He shoved himself off the couch and pushed through the crowd to the bathroom, all to familiar with the same environment where he had met Florence. He hated it.

Daniel knocked on the closed bathroom door and was met with a call of ‘just a minute’ followed by a bit of shuffling and then the door opened. A couple came out hand in hand, the girl’s lipstick smudged and strap of her tank top falling off her shoulder. Daniel looked away as they passed and he helped himself to the privacy of the bathroom. With the door closed and locked, he had a moment to try and gather his thoughts with the chatter of the crowd and piercing music down to a steady thudding through the walls. He set his can on the back of the toilet and did his business, staring at the framed that was hanging crooked on the wall. The frame was empty. Daniel stared at it for far too long, even when he was finished he stood there swaying for a moment as his mind whirled.

Soon he ended up back in the living room, finishing his drink only to have a fourth shoved into his hand.

“Jack said to find you.”

Daniel blinked slowly as his wide eyes tried to focus on the girl in front of him.

“Jack Avery? You’re Daniel, right?”

“Yeah.” Daniel breathed. “’M Daniel.”

“Good. I’m Cayleigh.”

Daniel barely processed what this strange brunette girl was saying to him. He just stared at her – stared through her one could argue – as she rambled on. He sipped his drink. She mentioned something about being in the same program…seeing him on campus…maybe even a little compliment about him being hot. Daniel didn’t acknowledge.

“Jack says you’re single. He said I should come talk to you.” she leaned in close and Daniel could smell her perfume.

She didn’t smell like Florence.

Daniel stared at her, right into her brown eyes that were dilated with drunkenness.

They weren’t Florence’s eyes.

Her hands were on his shoulders and then her arms slid around his neck, “But you’re quiet…I don’t think talking is what you want.”

He could have pushed her away. He could have. But if he thought hard enough, he could convince himself that she was Florence. His hazy mind pieced together the dark tones of her hair into Florence’s deep blonde in the weak lighting of the living room, with her eyes fluttering closed he could reflect the soft lashes that rested against Florence’s cheeks, and her strong perfume could be passed a simply the smell of the room around them.

Cayleigh lingered in front of him for a moment and Daniel stared wide eyed at her pursed lips, his breathing laboured slightly, and finally, she closed the gap. Daniel gasped lightly into it, shutting his eyes tightly as he habitually leaned back. But her arms around his neck kept him close and she smacked on his lips with her sticky lip-gloss coated mouth until he was succumbing to her.

If he thought hard enough, he could convince himself that she was Florence and although her body frame was different, Daniel gripped the back of her crop top nervously, not even needing to touch her. Florence.

He kissed back, inexperienced but desperate, locking his lips with hers in closed mouthed kisses. Florence. He could feel her. He could smell her. He could hear the way she moaned his name into the warm air between them. This is how he wanted to meet her that very first October evening, being able to taste her drink on her lips and the softness of his hair as his hand slid up to the nape of her neck. Florence.

His body buzzed with intoxication and desire, vague memories of their night together flashing through his mind until he was clutching the can in his hand hard enough to crumple it slightly and he was letting out soft moans between kisses. He wanted her again. In every and all ways, morning, noon, and night. Florence.

Daniel was drunk. Daniel was in love.

“Flora.” he breathed shakily into her mouth.

Cayleigh pulled back, breathless, “Did you say something?”

Daniel’s eyes went wide as he stared at the stranger in front of him, the stranger he just made out with at a party, and he hesitated. There was a moment of silence between them. Daniel tried to step back from her but her hands were locked behind his neck.

“I…” Daniel felt panic ensuing. “I have to pee.”

Cayleigh let him go and he turned away from her and pushed through the crowd. He fell back into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind him before throwing himself against the vanity, arms straight and chest heaving. He looked up into the mirror; his brown hair messy and tears brimming in his eyes and his lips were swollen from a few short minutes of kissing a stranger.

He took a moment to try and catch his breath before he was pulling out his phone and bringing up Florence’s text thread. He typed a paragraph of nonsense, filled with drunk typos and secret confessions, but at least he had the sense to backspace the entire thing before sending. She was his best friend but he missed her. He missed her and he missed her touch.

Daniel returned to Cayleigh where she was waiting for him in the living room.

“I think I’m gonna go.” Daniel told her.

“I can come with you.” she bit back a smile, setting her hand on his chest.

“No. Thank you. I’m just…not feeling well.”

“Oh. Okay. Can I have your number at least?” she pulled out her phone when he nodded and she passed it over so he could type it in.

It was the least he could do, he thought. He pictured another girl while kissing her. What jerk does that?

With his number in her phone and the drink in his hand left to warm on the table in the living room, Daniel told Corbyn he was leaving and headed out of the house on his own. He walked down the street towards their home, arms tucked around his body in the cool air of early April, and he cried the whole way. His first day being twenty and he already wanted to leave it behind.

The house was silent and empty when he got home and he stumbled his way up the stairs to his bedroom. He stripped down, tossing his shoes and jeans and jacket and shirt to the floor before climbing into bed with tears drying on his cheeks. He couldn’t help himself, flopping onto his stomach and called Florence.

She answered, of course, with a concerned, “Hey, Daniel James.”

He sobbed in reply.

“Dani. What’s wrong?” she asked quickly.

“I kissed a girl!” Daniel cried.

“Oh my. And you didn’t like it?” Florence giggled to herself to hide her own slight jealousy.

“No! I didn’t!” Daniel answered sorrowfully. “And there was no picture in the frame in the bathroom!”

“Oh, wow. That sounds terrible.”

“It is! Who hangs up an empty frame?” Daniel wept, smothering his sobs into his pillow.

“Okay, Daniel James, listen to me. Are you home now?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay. Go get yourself some water and get right into bed.”

“I’m already in bed and there’s no water.”

“Okay-”

“There’s not water with me, Flora.”

“Okay.” she chuckled lightly. “That’s fine. I’ll text Aidan to put a glass beside your bed for you when the boys come home. Just get some sleep.”

“Aidan did drugs.” Daniel mumbled.

“Did he?”

“Mhm. He did drugs with Jack and…and they asked me to do it too!”

“Did you?”

“No!” Daniel sobbed. “I didn’t do drugs. Just…I just…I kissed a girl and I didn’t like it.”

“Okay.”

Daniel’s voice fell quieter as the comfort of his bed and the aftermath of his emotional breakdown started to take over his drunken alertness, “And there was no picture in the frame.”

“I’ll buy you a picture and a frame, okay?”

“M’kay. How’s m’lil angel?”

“Clemmie?”

“Mhm.”

“She’s sleeping.”

“And new baby?”

“New baby is good. He or she is well behaved.”

“M’kay.”

There was a pause.

“I kissed a girl, Flora.” Daniel whispered. “Her lips were sticky.”

“That’s kinda of yucky.”

“Mhm. I only kissed you before, did you know?”

“I know.”

“Your lips weren’t sticky.”

“Get some rest, Dani.” Florence said as straightly as she could, “I wish I was with you.”

“Me too.” Daniel mumbled.

“I love you, Daniel James.”

“I love you, Florence Margret.” Daniel breathed. It was the easiest thing he said all night.

Florence stayed on the phone until he fell asleep, just listening to his heavy breathing as exhaustion took over. She sat up in bed across the city, one hand holding her phone to her ear and the other set gently on the small swell of her stomach as she craved the presence of her best friend beside her.

When Daniel woke up the next morning, there was a promised glass of water on his nightstand and two texts; one from Florence and one from Cayleigh. He answered Flora first.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 9

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 9 - Flee

The flame on the table moved.

"It's here," A-Yan said, and then motioned Lin Yan to pay attention to what was behind him. Lin Yan turned around and saw that there was nothing unusual. Then he saw it.

There are obviously only three of them in the room, but there were four shadows on the wall.

Different from the familiar silence, the fourth shadow on the wall was constantly moving this time, like it was pacing around the house. At first, it moved extremely slowly, and then it got faster and faster. For a while, it hurriedly walked straight in one direction, then returned, and finally started to circle around them.

"He's looking for you," A-Yan said softly.

There was also a strange noise outside the door, like a stone falling into the water or a tree branch breaking. Soon, the courtyard was overwhelmed by the wind, and the door and windows were all squeaking. Then there was knocking on the door, like countless people waiting to come in. Not only at the door, but there were also eager knocks from the windows on all sides. Lin Yan was terrified and turned his head to see out of the window. He was met with an old face and saw an old man standing slanting by the window, wearing a full Manchu costume, and carrying a faint green lantern in his hand.

The figures in the yard gradually increased.

"Don't-, don't be afraid." A-Yan grabbed Lin Yan's hand and whispered softly: "They usually come in at this time to eat the steamed buns in the temple. They are all poor people, and there's no one to support them after they die."

Lin Yan felt that even if 2012 was really the end of the world, he would not be surprised. (T/N: This novel was written in 2012 just so this comment doesn't seem out of nowhere)

A person appeared silently in the net made by the red ropes in the room.

In the shadowy candlelight, Lin Yan saw the man; he had dark hair that parted at his forehead and hung in disarray, covering most of his face. He was very tall, with wide sleeves hanging straight and loosely on his body, splattering with old brown bloodstains. Lin Yan bit his lower lip and tried his best not to start hyperventilating. His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest. Almost at the same time, the temple master stood up abruptly, took out a yellow paper from the table and inserted it in the incense burner. He spread out the yellow paper and made a scratch on his finger. Using his now bloodied finger, he quickly sketched on the paper.

The "person" in the shadow of the lamp suddenly walked back and forth in the house like he had been offended. He hit the red rope and was forced to return, but he was reluctant, and he staggered back. This weird scene made Lin Yan break out in a cold sweat, and a light sigh of surprise overflowed from his throat uncontrollably, "Heh—"

The ghost suddenly raised his head, his messy hair blocking Lin Yan's ruthless eyes. His black eyes were filled with strong killing intent, and they suddenly made eye contact! Almost without warning, his stiff body turned to Lin Yan and rushed towards him in a few strides. Lin Yan trembled all over his body and tried to hold his breath. The ghost stopped less than half a meter away from him and looked around harshly as if it couldn't see the target anymore.

Just when Lin Yan was running out of breath, the ghost finally gave up, turned around and rushed over.

The temple master began to recite a strange mantra, and A-Yan joined in. It was obvious that only two people were speaking, but there were echoes from all corners of the room. The red ropes shook together, and the ghost's steps became flustered. The barefooted figure smashed around like a fly in the room, swaying and almost falling to the ground. As the chanting of the mantra became louder and louder, the ghost staggered to the ground like he enduring great pain. He crawled around and tried to stand up, scanning the room frantically and impatiently but couldn't find his target.

The temple master pulled Lin Yan’s arm, motioned him to stay silent with his glare, and then made a deep cut in his forearm with a knife. The moment the blood poured out, Lin Yan seemed to hear the ghost let out a heavy gasp. Using all fours together, he crawled over to Lin Yan from the other end of the room. Every time he moved his body, it was as slow as torture, but it didn't stop. A-Yan picked up the cypress block with the paper figure on the table, rubbed Lin Yan's blood on the red paper. He grabbed the wound and covered the forearm, and threw the double cypress toward the middle of the house.

The ghost let out a low groan, as if he had exhausted all his energy and rushed towards the cypress on the ground. His hands kept tearing at the paper man above. The next scene made Lin Yan completely stunned. The ghost knelt on the ground, holding the block, and he leaned down and began to kiss it. He rubbed his lips against the blood-stained red paper, like holding a lost treasure.

The expression of the temple master turned vicious in an instant. He took up the short knife on the table, bit the tip of his tongue and sprayed the blood mist on the blade. The tip of the blade was facing the direction of the ghost, and the yellow paper on the table lit on fire, crackling and burning into a ball of fire. In the raging fire, the whole body of the ghost twitched violently, and his throat kept making vague groans. However, he did not resist at all and even refused to move his body. He hugged the cypress tightly in his arms, snuggling it up to his cheek in desperation and nostalgia. . .

The inexplicable shock made Lin Yan take a step back. He had never seen such a look in his life; desperate, crazy, resentful, cruel and unwilling, staring straight at the wood in his arms, touching the doll covered in Lin Yan's blood.

A big mouthful of blood poured out from the ghost's mouth and ran down the corners of his lips. The drops stained his jade-coloured shirt. His hair scattered all over the place, and also stained with maroon blood. It was a tragic scene. Lin Yan shook his head. This was simply not right. There must be some kind of mistake. How could someone who could stare at him with this kind of eyes hurt him. . .

"Buzzzzzzz. . ."

Lin Yan's phone was on vibration mode. The white light off the screen looked out of place in the flame light, and a text message popped up: "Gu's autopsy report was changed. I hacked into the hospital's archive system. The time of death on the autopsy report was different than the time the police gave us. It was three hours earlier."

Then comes the second: "I suspect that someone is interfering in this matter. Lin Yan, be careful."

Lin Yan thoughtfully recalled that the death certificate issued by the police station stated that the old woman died at 1 o'clock in the morning, so her actual time of death was instead 10 o'clock the night before. At that time, he was fighting with the ghost in front of him in the elevator. He looked at the time before going upstairs, there was no mistake about that.

He didn't even think about Yin Zhou's second text message. It was like water had been thrown onto him. Lin Yan clenched his fist, and was shocked by the disturbing scene before him. He was speechless, swallowing hard. What was he doing? He stubbornly thinks that he could never kill a living person, but does that mean he should be so willing to scatter an undeserving ghost's soul?!

Like using cubs as bait to catch she-wolves, the methods of human beings were more despicable than ghosts.

"Stop!" Lin Yan shouted at the temple master.

The temple owner was now like the enemy: "Shut up! We'll deal with that when we're finished!"

A-Yan also panicked. "Brother Lin Yan, don't say anything, it's too late to stop now!"

The eyes of the temple master were revealed in an instant, and the short knife sprayed with blood was raised high, facing the ground. The whole house seemed to be shaken by an invisible giant hand, creaking noises came from the window frames, eaves, and walls. The wandering souls that had gathered in the courtyard also seemed to be irritated; whimpering, screaming, and wailing sounded together. A cold light flashed on the short knife, which would be pierced through the concrete floor, sending ghosts back into the ground!

With a crisp snap, the yellow paper inserted in the incense burner broke into two pieces.

The ghost slowly raised his head, staring straight at Lin Yan with red eyes under his slanting eyebrows.

It only takes a moment to make a decision. Lin Yan doesn't know where he finds this courage. He tucked his phone into his pant pocket and rushed towards the ghost. A human and a ghost pressed together. Lin Yan wanted to grab the cypress block in his hands, but the ghost's persistence was amazing. His hands were stuck on the wood block. No matter how Lin Yan tried, he couldn't shake him at all.

There was another talisman paper shining. The ghost in the shadow of the lamp completely gave up resisting, curled up on the ground. He shielded the cypress between his thigh and chest, like a poor lunatic, full of unwillingness and resentment, moving backwards with difficulty.

With nothing but love on his lips, who would truly spare his life? This desperate ghost was more sentimental and righteous than humans.

With panicked thoughts, Lin Yan used his tongue to clean the wounds of his arms, resisting the pain and biting hard. The bitter and sour taste rushed into his throat with the blood, and the freshly coagulated blood was unbound by saliva and poured out again. After it started bleeding again, Lin Yan put his arm in front of the grimace, gritted his teeth and said, "I'm here, follow me!"

The ghost looked up at him suspiciously, Lin Yan whispered: "Hey, throw that stuff away."

"Let's go."

"A-Yan, stop this foolish boy!"

Lin Yan grabbed the ghost's hand and dragged him from the ground to the door, and used his feet to disperse the incense ashes. When the formation was broken, the copper coins pressed on the incense ashes bounced straight out with a few clinking noises. Lin Yan busied himself untying the red ropes. Who knew that the ropes were tied so well that there was no quick way to undo them?

Lin Yan turned back in a panic, and saw A-Yan walking towards him with a pale face, holding the talisman. He stumbled and fell to the ground, lifting his pointed face, and gently whispered, "Quickly go."

He was wasting too much time. Lin Yan untied the ropes with his teeth, and rushed out of the temple door with the ghost!

There was a great deal of mourning happening outside the temple. the mountain owls given sullen expressions, and the small courtyard was filled with black air. The jujube tree with its crooked trunk looked as fierce as a dead body with extended bony fingers. It seems that the lonely ghosts in the hundreds of miles around the area had been attracted. In the courtyard The holy spirit banners were pelted by strong winds. On the well sat a drenched female ghost, and "people" dressed as eunuchs in ragged clothes gathered together, their paper lanterns hung in the sky. There was a dark purple constriction on the neck of the person in the front. "I am wronged by my death. . ."

Lin Yan dragged the ghost behind him and ran towards where he parked his car. He was trembling as he pulled out the key, but no matter how hard he pressed it, the beep sound of unlocking the door could not be heard. The magnetic field in the mountain had completely changed, and the remote keys did not work. Lin Yan shaky hands stuffed the key into the keyhole, and he finally opened the door of the car and threw the ghost into the passenger seat. But there was no chance that he could have three lucky breaks happen.

The evil spirit regained consciousness from the pain of the spell. He clasped Lin Yan's throat with his nails, and slowly tightened, a pair of black holes in the messy hair glaring up. . .

"You don't know how to fucking drive. Just sit still for me!" Lin Yan yelled at him irritably, "Who cares if you strangle me to death!"

The hands on the neck didn't make any more moves.

Sure enough, the ghost was afraid of the wicked. Lin Yan pushed him harshly to the chair and put the seatbelt around his waist: "Take a gamble. It's fucking worthless to be killed by this braid army!"

He slammed down hard on the accelerator, twisted the key vigorously, and, with a bang, the car started.

"Sit still." Lin Yan clicked the corner of his mouth, holding the steering wheel, and the black Audi A4 galloped away like in the F1 Grand Prix in the night.

[nonstoplover]

trust fund baby ~ Timothée Chalamet (song drabble) - version 1.0

my masterlist │ my song drabbles

song i used as inspiration: why don't we ~ trust fund baby

words: 1.6K

approximate reading time: about 10 mins

a/n: okay so when brainstorming about this song's lyrics i came up with an idea (this one written below) but as i started writing it, another possible, quite similar situation came to my head and since i couldn't decide which one i liked better, i figured i let you guys decide and wrote both. anyway i'm not an expert in cars and repairing them, so excuse my lack of knowledge please. i hope you still like it though! please leave feedback, it means the absolute world to me. love youu

here's version 2.0, the alternative idea

"Damn it." Timothée cursed out loud, slamming his palms against the steering wheel.

He couldn't figure out what was wrong or if accidentally he did something that caused the problem, but here he was in the absolute middle of nowhere, all alone with a slightly smoking engine hood.

He had no clue only that something's really bad was going on. He grabbed his phone and opened the browser to search for the closest garage. A minute later he was already dialling the number he had found on the website as he was slowly getting out of the car.

Walking a little further from the vehicle he looked up and down the totally empty road in front of and behind him. As he listened to the ringing coming to his ear, he couldn't help but think what if the car would explode?

"Hello, Dave's Auto Repair," a chirpy, womanish voice answered the call. "How can I help?"

"Uh... I think something in my car engine went wrong," Timothée spoke, trying to sound less amateurish.

"What are you experiencing?"

"The car started kinda twitching so I pulled off the road and now there's a bit of smoke coming out of the hood," he turned back towards his car with knitted eyebrows, his eyes searching for any new happening.

"Alright, where are you?" The woman on the other side asked and he swiftly gathered all information he could give her about his whereabouts.

She reassured him that soon a breakdown truck would come and pick him up and pull his car to the garage where they would repair it. Hanging up the call Timothée let out a relieved sigh, already feeling less stressed even though his vehicle was still in a quite bad condition.

Thank God I'm not in a hurry, he thought as he slowly sank to a sitting position on the ground, unlocking his phone to spend the rest of his waiting scrolling through social media.

About twenty minutes later he heard the familiar sound of a car approaching and glancing up he was glad to notice it to be the thing he wanted to see. He got up to walk back to his car, leaving the space in front of his car free. The breakdown truck slowly reached him and pulled over in the spot he was previously sitting at. Timothée stepped forward just as the door opened, a figure jumping out.

"Hi, I'm (y/n), from Dave's Auto Repair," (y/n) walked closer, pointing back over her shoulder to the large stickers on the side of the truck behind her advertising the mentioned company, a toolbox swinging in her other hand. "You called for us, right?"

"Ye-yeah," Timothée muttered, eyes slightly widened. "I'm Timmy. I mean, Timothée."

This was not what he was expecting to happen. In his mind he was waiting for a beefy, older man, not a girl around his age. Her (y/h/c) hair was pulled back into a quite messy ponytail, baby hairs that weren't long enough to stay with the others framing her beautiful face that was covered in small, smeared oil-spots. No makeup was on her face but she without a doubt was still the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

(y/n) placed the toolbox in her left hand before wiping the now free right in her stained, blue overalls before holding it out towards him, a playful glance in her eyes as she watched his slight suffering. He immediately reached out to shake the held out hand, wondering about how could this girl keep her palm and fingers so soft whilst working such a job.

"Okay, let's see this rowdy engine," she giggled, bypassing him. She put the box down next to her feet and had the engine hood open, half disappearing in it in no second.

Timothée paced up and down behind her, trying hard to not be a nusiance as he examined the process. The thoughts were racing in his head no matter how hard he tried to stop them. This girl was the absolute dream girl for him. All his life he was saying that he was waiting for a girl who could take care of things herself, whether it's changing a lightbulb or repairing a car.

And now here she was in front of him. He had to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't a dream.

(y/n) examined the car for only less than a minute, recognising the common problem swiftly. She could feel his eyes on her back all the time she was working, and she hated to admit but it made her flustered. The first glance she casted on him she felt a strange attraction, like a magnet that pulled her towards the boy.

It was hard to concentrate on the work in front of her but she resisted the urge to turn her eyes towards Timothée every other second and shut her mind as good as she could, focusing solely on the engine.

Not much later she straightened her back with a sigh, climbing out while (unsuccessfully) cleaning her palms in her workwear, closing the hood behind her. With a quick glance at her bottom she made sure it wasn't dirty and opening the door she sat in his car. She started the engine and smiled happily when she heard the satisfying growling of it, and after fully rolling down the window she stuck her head out.

"Can I go a bit with it?"

Timothée nodded, completely astonished and watched as she drove past him and the service truck, speeding off into the distance. It felt weird to let a complete stranger just drive away with his car, but all her stuff was here beside him and somehow he trusted her enough to remain calm. It was part of her job.

A couple minutes later the shrinking image of his car started growing again, signalling that she was coming back to him. Turning the car carefully around (y/n) came to a stop at the exact same spot the car was standing at, shutting the engine off and getting of.

"We're done," she stretched her back.

"Already?" Timothée replied, and even though he tried hard to fight back the disappointed tone of his voice, it was useless.

"Yeah," (y/n) chuckled, moving her shoulders in a shrugging motion. "It wasn't such a serious problem, and it's quite common actually. I'm used to having to solve it."

"It wasn't serious? It was smoking!"

"Don't let the facade fool you."

"Never again," he muttered, though he meant quite a different thing. All he could think about was how acutely the appearance of the girl fooled him when she got out of her car.

In the meantime (y/n) placed all the equipment she used back in the toolbox and brought it back to the truck, swinging it into the passenger's seat.

"How much is it?" Timothée followed her, pulling out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

The girl rapidly calculated the fare in her mind, announcing it to the boy, but when she glanced at the amount of money he placed in her palm, she had to rethink the situation, thinking she'd said the wrong number.

"It's... it's a lot more," (y/n) frowned, looking up into his green eyes in confusion.

"I know," he giggled and shrugged, visibly blushing. He glanced down at the ground, trying to hide his fluster.

"Oh, wow."

The young girl never felt more speechless in her entire life. This man randomly gave her about twice the price of what she worked for. What should she say? A simple thank you didn't seem enough.

"I mean, thank you, that's very generous of you."

"You deserve it. You came here to the middle of nowhere in no time," Timothée held his arms out, pointing around the two of them. "And you repaired my car in no time. It's quite out of the common."

(y/n) felt the blood rush to her cheeks hearing the compliment. Not one customer had ever talked to her like this before.

"But, you know, it still wasn't perfect," the boy spoke up again, slightly cringing by his straightforwardness. The girl looked up, curiously waiting what he would say, a little scared to hear a possible mistake she made. "You could still fix it, though."

The small pause wasn't meant to increase the nervous tension in the air as it eventually did, Timothée just had to take another deep and shaky breath before speaking the final words out, ready for rejection.

"How?" (y/n) couldn't take it anymore, her rusty voice breaking the silence. Her father would kill her if she had made a noticeable mistake.

"If I can take you out for dinner sometime."

She thought she heard wrong. Was this boy truly flirting with her so slyly?

"I mean, of course you don't have to, no pressure, really, I would just like to get know you more," he rambled on in embarrassment.

"Hey, hey, shh!" (y/n) silenced him, placing a hand against his shoulder. "I'd love to."

This time it was Timothée who thought he had misheard the outspoken words, but seeing the wide, cheery smile on her face he convinced himself that it was actually her answer without a doubt.

"Amazing!" He exclaimed.

"Give me your phone, I'll put in my number and then we can arrange the time and place," she held out her hand, a little surprised at herself and how she confidently lead the situation unlikely to her natural behaviour.

Within a minute she had finished it and even sent herself a text so she could have his number as well, placing the device back in the boy's hand.

"Okay, then, I gotta go now, my shift's still going." (y/n) spoke. "See you later, I guess."

"Yeah, see you!" Timothée answered, still mesmerized by the girl and how his plan to ask her out succeeded.

He was still standing in the middle of the road when she started the truck and turning around drove off, his phone in his hand, eyes wide and joyful.

.::the end::.

my masterlist

[nthngbxtfanfics]

Be my desire - Kihyun Scenario

How long do I have to be patient with you?

How long should I keep my heart caged?

I want you to be mine, only mine.

Kihyuns gaze landed onto the counter of the cafe. On a woman in her 20s, black attire with an apron hugging her waist. Hair slightly messy after 8 hours of work. His heart started to race, excitement filled his chest. Eyes followed every movement she made, every stranger that catched her attention. His face becoming sour when men surround her presence. When she smiles at their disgusting faces. He wishes so dearly, to have this smile for himself and only, he wishes to be the reason for this change of shape on her lips.

This woman was the only thing on his mind, since the first day she took his order in this newly opened cafe. He simply wanted to explore this new place, but didn’t expected to find his biggest desire.

This desire was you.

Kihyun watched you from his main spot, where he could watch you from the most perfect angle. He just finished his second cup of coffee and waited for the ending minute that signaled your finish of work for that day. To not be too suspicious, Kihyun stood up signaling his leaving. Kihyun knew perfectly well, about all your daily schedules, when you woke up, when your shifts start and when they end. What you do after every shift and today was no different, that’s what he thought first, until he saw your face lit up, when your eyes met his moving form. 

You rounded the counter as fast as you could, trying to catch up on him. Kihyun lifted his face seeing your beautiful smile right in front of him. His eyes widened, when his heart started to beat faster like it’s in a race of time. His chest burning, breathing caught in his throat. Swallowing hard, the heat in his chest transferred to his cheek. He never thought, that you would approach him first, his plan was different. Now he’s anxious, scared that his plan to win you for himself, would fall to pieces in that exact moment.

“Excuse me! Ehm - Hi, my name is Y/N. I noticed you here for a while now. You’ve been spending a lot of time here. My boss is really glad that you visit us so often. They’d like to treat you for something as a ‘Thank you’. And since Christmas is soon, you know? Maybe treat you with a gift.” You fiddled with the hem of your apron. Kihyun saw how nervous you were around him and his body relaxed and a smile creeped up on his face.

I’d like to have you as my gift.

He wished to spell his wish into reality, but tried to cover it up.

“Ah, you don’t have to. I really like this place and it’s already a pleasent gift to be here.”

Those words tasted sour in his mouth. Too much for his liking, but he knew he has to say them. Or it’ll be harder to win you over. His cheesy comment made you giggle. He loves the fact that he was the reason for that sweet sound, coming out of you. The strong force within him, wanting to kiss your lips and make you his was too strong. But he kept himself in place, knowing it would be too soon and you might take everything the wrong way and that’s the least he wanted.

“Well if you think so, my boss might feel a little sad but I hope you wouldn’t mind anyway.”

“Well let’s not make your boss upset. I’ll gladly take anything they give me.” Y/N’s smile grew wider as you lifted your head to look into his eyes. Kihyun had a hard time to keep his excitement at a low level.

“Oh I forgot to ask for your name, that’s so impolite of me. I’m really sorry.” Y/N’s face turned from a smile to a worried expression. Kihyun laughed in return.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t mad. My name is Kihyun, it’s very nice to meet you.” Kihyun stretched out his hand for you to shake it. As you touched his palm, Kihyun couldn’t hold back his wide grin. His palm was tingling from the connection of both your hands. He never felt that before, he knew you were the person he was long yearning for and he wouldn’t let you slip out of his hands so easily now. Unintentionally, his grip on your hand got stronger. Soon he noticed your little nervous laugh and he let go. His hand still warm from your touch, the feeling of your hand still lingers, still fresh.

“I know it might be pretty bold of me now, but I think you’re really cute. I was wondering if you’d like to spent some time together. Watch a movie for example.” Kihyun couldn’t believe his ears. Did he heard right? His face showed obvious disbelieve. He couldn’t form a straight answer, his plan turned a 180 degree. As if it would be so easy to get you, that’s all too easy, there must be something wrong. 

“If you are not interested, it’s ok.” He was awakened by your words and started to panic, finding his voice.

“Wait! No, I mean yes! I’d love to spend some time with you.” your smile returned and his small panic attack stopped immediantly.

“Great! Well maybe tomorrow? I have a day off.” you exclaimed. Kihyun already knew it. He actually planned on meeting you tomorrow by accident and ask to hang out together. But he never imagined to arrange a meeting with you so soon.

“Tomorrow sounds good, I have time though.”

“Cool! Could I have your number? So we could text and arrange some more?” You took out your phone handing it towards him, his smile not leaving one bit, but getting even stronger. Your phone number wasn’t unknown by him and already saved on his phone, but he never used it. He wanted to wait a little longer, he waited for the best opportunity to text you and now you are here, right in front of him, asking for his phone number. His day couldn’t get even better. His fingers worked fast, typing in the numbers and finishing it with the save button and his name on your phone screen. Y/N took the phone back, typing a bit on it. Kihyun felt his phone vibrating in his backpocket, your name plastered over the screen. The light of the screen shined over his face, highlighting his features.

“Now I got your number. I’ll text you then.” He looked back at you.

“Great, ok I need to change real quick. See you tomorrow?” you asked, ready to leave. Kihyun fighted with himself to offer you, to walk you home. He couldn’t, it would be too strange, he doesn’t want to seem suspicious and ruin the moment. Should he wait for you to return and walk you to your bus-stop? Or just end here and leave the cafe?

Leaving the thoughts on his mind, he lifted his head, noticing your missing figure. He looked around, cursing at himself. Until he saw your returning figure, a coat hugging your body and a big scarf around your neck. You looked back at him with a big smiling.

“Where do you live? We could walk together, if you don’t mind. It’s pretty dark outside and I feel a little uneasy walking around alone at this time.” Your surprises didn’t stop and he felt excited. He nodded and threw his coat over his shoulders and wrapping his own scarf around his neck.

“So where do you have to go? I don’t want to be some kind of burden to you.” You both left the cafe and stood in front of it.

You’ll never be a burden to me!

“It’s completely fine, I actually wanted to ask you first. Since it’s pretty late, you never know what will happen if you’d go alone. I don’t want something happening to you.” Your smile grew bigger at his words.

“I actually need to go that way, my bus stops at the station right there.” You pointed at your usual bus stop. Kihyun acted oblivious and followed your pointing finger.

“My bus stops at the same station.” he lied, he knew which buses he needed to take. To be able to go from the same bus-stop as you. He planned everything through and was glad, he could use it now. But it didn’t change the fact that he would take a longer time to reach his own home. He didn’t cared, he since he could spent some more tome with you.

“Really? But I’ve never seen you there.” you questioned.

“I leave earlier than you. I always take the bus at 5pm.” he grew nervous for a short time and relaxed after seeing your knowing look on your face. You both made your way towards the bus-stop.

As you reached your spot, Kihyun studied your features. His eyes roamed over your frame, a small smile broke through his lips. He never saw you that up close. You both always had a certain distance, either a counter or a table. But never did he came as close as now. Your scent of freshly made coffee filled his infected his senses. His eyes landed on your lips, he outlined the plump cushions with his gaze. His pupils became bigger and his eyes darker, the feeling in his chest became stronger. Kihyuns self-control was challenging him and he hated it. He wanted you to be his, now.

“Kihyun-ssi” his dark thoughts got interrupted by your sweet voice, snapping him back to reality. Your smile grew as Kihyun looked into your eyes.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“The us is here.” You pointed at the arrived vehicle, a small giggle escaped through your smile. You were amused by Kihyuns confused expression.

“Oh really, I didn’t noticed it.” His laugh was nervous, he made a fool of himself and he hated it even more. You laughed at his remark and went forward, gesturing him to follow you.

Kihyun tried to shake off this weird feeling in his body and walked up to you. As you entered the bus, you sat down next to each other.

“It’s really nice, to have you next to me. Lately I’ve been not feeling save on my own. I know that we’re complete strangers, but I felt like I could feel save around you.” Kihyun listened to your concern and made sure to take notes within his mind. A smile creeped up on his lips again. “I guess I sound really strange, I’m really sorry I I made you uncomfortable.”

“No it’s fine, it’s natural to feel unsafe alone. To be honest, I kinda feel glad that you feel safe around me.” Kihyun turned his gaze towards you to face you. This time, your eyes were studying the mans face with a smile. Your only response was a small giggle.

A sound Kihyun could always wake up to. His mind went crazy again, imagining all crazy scenarios, where you are his. What he would do for you or what he could do to you. He wanted you and it was clear.

His mind started a new plan to win you over. A plan where you would fall for him, as much as he did for you. A plan where you couldn’t refuse to leave him. A plan where you would stuck onto him, cling onto him. He would be the only person in this world that you needed. No one else.

You are his desire and he will be yours.

next part

[byuneebuns]

Calluna

Minhyuk x Reader Supernatural AU

Tags: Fluff, Oneshot, Witch AU, Supernatural AU

Author’s Note: I wrote this in July of 2018, right before I saw Monsta X in SF, and it has been sitting in my drafts since then. I just re-worked it a little and I think it’s finally ready to let it see the light of day. I hope someone out there enjoys it. ♡ 

A large plume of dense magenta smoke was billowing from your cauldron, smelling strongly of pine needles. You fanned at it eagerly, trying to ignore the dread creeping into the pit of your stomach as you recoiled from the pungent odor.

‘Pine needles? Isn’t it supposed to smell like flowers....?’ You thought to yourself as you glanced at the open spellbook by your side for confirmation.

The jewel-tone clouds finally started to dissipate and you chewed on your lower lip as you peered nervously into the depths of your cauldron, silently praying your hard work hadn’t been been for naught.

In the bottom of the large metal bowl was a substance reminiscent of tar in both consistency and color, bubbling ominously.

“No, no. This isn’t right at all.” You muttered darkly to yourself, your fingernails digging grooves into your palms from how tightly your fists were clenched with frustration. 

This was your third attempt at a particularly complex potion to mimic feelings of love and you were at your wit’s end trying to figure out what exactly you were doing wrong. 

This wasn’t a love potion in the sense that it made someone else fall in love with you: It was a potion that made you feel all of the warmth, the fullness, the contentedness of loving and being loved in return. It was happiness in a bottle, so to speak, and much like the feeling was difficult to describe so was it to replicate.

You squinted at the narrow, cramped cursive text that covered the pages of your spellbook, wishing for the thousandth time that your late Aunt hadn’t been so hasty when recording her creations. Her handwriting was illegible at best, and most of her homegrown spell instructions were riddled with scribbles and footnotes that contradicted each other.

“It must be nice to be a genius.” You sighed to yourself, closing the textbook and staring wistfully at the ceiling. A small wreath, only about three inches in diameter, of smooth wood and white heather swayed from a long string attached to the low ceiling beams of your small cabin, almost playfully teasing you. It was her last parting gift to you before she left you alone in the world. It had been a year since she passed away but the heather had never yet wilted, something you were certain she’d accomplished with her powerful magic. You’d never gotten to ask the meaning behind the wreath but you could sense that it was important in some way you’d yet to comprehend.

Your parents had died from illness when you were too young to know them, leaving you alone with your mother’s much, much older sister. She’d raised you as her own and although you knew she was no spring chicken you were still extremely unprepared when she told you that the end was coming. She went peacefully in her sleep but it never felt like she’d truly left you, so you managed to avoid feeling too lonely.

“Auntie, couldn’t you have bought a typewriter? I can’t read this, and what I can read doesn’t make sense. Now I have to go out again.” You whined at the charm, receiving only taunting silence in reply.

You groaned again, pulling on your boots and cloak and trudging out of the cabin with a final sigh.

Your feet carried you towards the tree line of the forest you called home. Your cabin sat in a wide field that was dotted with wildflowers and surrounded by trees that seemed tall enough to touch the clouds in the bright blue sky above them. Your Auntie had always told you that a witch belonged in nature, but that it should be revered and respected. Nothing more than was needed should be taken, partly because wastefulness is considered evil, but mostly for fear of angering the protective spirits of the wood. They never showed themselves to others but you could feel their presence all around you, watching your every move from somewhere just out of sight, as soon as you stepped in their territory.

Your caretaker had been much more well-acquainted with the wood than you were. You had spent plenty of time playing there as a child, but she often ventured into them alone when you were young, leaving for hours at a time without explanation. You suspected that she was practicing advanced magic in private that she didn’t want you trying to copy. You never dared to follow her, knowing that she would catch you immediately and not wanting to suffer the consequences of your curiosity, but you’d always hoped that someday she would deem you worthy to accompany her. She’d kept so many secrets from you until her last breath, which you routinely tried not to let eat a hole in your heart. She had her reasons and they were her’s alone.

Your feet slowly made their way along the soft, mossy earth, your arms swinging freely at your sides, a small smile playing on your full lips. You felt so blessed to get to live somewhere so breathtakingly beautiful. The trees were so thick that only small, green-tinged rays of the sun were freckling the forest floor. You were so relaxed in the silent woods that you failed to notice the pair of eyes following you closely as you journeyed on.

You finally reached your destination, a tiny clearing in the woods with herbs and berries of differing varieties as far as the eye could see. You’d been fortunate enough to locate the little sanctuary not long after your Aunt passed and it had since become a beloved destination for you to find peace in solitude, ingredients for meals, and supplies for spells. It was, needless to say, an important place for you both in terms of your survival but also your spirit.

You knelt down, carefully picking stalks of herbs and collecting berries in your basket. You left a small cloth bundle, tied tight with a ribbon, on the ground nearby. This was almost certainly a garden being cultivated with the magic of forest spirits, so it was only polite to leave an offering as payment.

“I don’t like cucumbers.” A disparaging voice suddenly called over your shoulder.

You spun around and stumbled backwards in shock, tripping over an exposed root and crawling backwards on your hands, ignoring the stinging pain in your ankle.

A tall, thin man towered over you, watching you with thinly veiled amusement. He took a step towards you and you gasped, scrambling backwards into a bush as you desperately tried to put more distance between the two of you.

The stranger bent down on one knee and plucked your offering from the ground, untying the ribbon with nimble fingers, and pulled a sour face at the contents.

“It always has cucumber, why can’t they just be normal?” He grumbled, pinching the tiny sandwich between his forefinger and his thumb, a pout blooming spectacularly on his mouth and marring his elegant features.

Now that his attention was directed elsewhere you were able to get a proper look at him. He looked to be about your age, maybe a few years older, had a thin frame with broad shoulders and otherwise even proportions and was deceptively muscular. He had delicate cat-like features with high cheekbones, his face promising mischief. Straight brows hovered over almond-shaped eyes with glittering black irises, and a small, straight nose with thin lips and a sharp jaw. His hair was the color of fresh snow, messy and sticking up oddly in places, and upon closer inspection seemed to have some small leaves and twigs tangled in it.

In fact, the closer you looked at him the more wild he appeared. There were smears of dirt on his arms and face and his shirt was torn in strange places, like he’d fist fought with a thorn bush and lost badly. His pants were worn and had large grass stains at the knees. He looked like he hadn’t seen a proper bed or bath in ages.

Despite his forlorn appearance, he was truly stunning.

He turned to you with a scowl.

“Don’t you know how to make anything else?”

Your initial shock having subsided, you felt yourself practically swelling with indignation.

“I can, thank you very much. And those aren’t for you anyways, they’re an offering for the forest spirits.” You huffed, crawling forward gingerly on scuffed hands and knees to snatch the container from his ungrateful hands.

He looked at you incredulously before tipping his head back and laughing, earning another look of apprehension from you.

“Well the forest rejects your offering. Come back with something tastier.” He said, taking your basket from your unsuspecting grip.

“H-hey!”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief as you watched the man replacing everything you’d carefully collected in its original place.

A lunatic. 

There was no other explanation. He was a lunatic.

“Excuse me, but what gives you the right to decide my offering isn’t good enough?” You spat, trying and failing to get past him to retrieve your belongings.

“No one needs to give me the right to decide what I will and won’t accept.” He replied haughtily, tossing your now-empty basket in your lap.

You glowered at each other for a few terse moments before you burst into hollow laughter.

“What is so funny?” The man’s arms were folded across his chest now, his pout returning in full force.

You stopped laughing when you saw how serious your companion was.

“Are you really trying to tell me that you’re some kind of forest spirit?” You said, your voice deadpan to emphasize your disbelief.

“I prefer nymph since I have a physical form, and my name is Minhyuk.” He said matter-of-factly, watching you with tense, wary eyes.

You blinked once, twice, three times before speaking.

“You’re really...a nymph?” You asked, feeling every bit as stupid as you doubtlessly sounded.

Minhyuk rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m an elk.”

Your cheeks colored with humorless embarrassment. You’d always imagined forest nymphs to be more...fairly-like? Small and playful, happy creatures, perhaps with little translucent wings. Not like this...sassy man that was eating the berries you’d planned on taking with you, his expression surly. 

“So...you really won’t let me take anything unless I bring you something else?” You asked, your disbelief evident in your tone.

“Oh, you’re still here? I hadn’t noticed. A blueberry pie sounds nice. The old lady used to bring them every so often, so I’m sure that you have a recipe somewhere.” He said in between mouthfuls, ignoring your visible annoyance.

“Until then I guess you’ll have to find somewhere else to forage seeing as this is my house you’re in.”

“Wait, what about an old lady?” You asked, brow furrowing with confusion.

“Don’t you have a pie to bake?” Minhyuk stood, clearly signaling that your conversation was over.

“I’m not making you a pie, you brat!”

“Then I guess you won’t be making much else, either.”

The sight of his parting smirk would haunt you for days to come.

***

“Stupid nymph.” You hissed before you stuck your thumb in your mouth to nurse the bead of your cherry-red blood that was forming on the fingertip. You glared at the bush you’d been foraging through, unsure if your irritation was from your finger being pricked or from your lack of success. 

You’d been desperately trying to find high quality ingredients elsewhere for nearly a week but suddenly it was as if they were scarce, or worse, ceased to exist. The tiny garden, however, remained a treasure trove of wildlife, mocking you and your inability to access it without being accosted by an overly large child. You had no trouble finding an abundance of blueberries wherever you looked, though.

You had every reason to suspect that this was Minhyuk’s doing. Of course you couldn’t really confirm it was anything more than bad luck but you could have sworn that you heard him snickering each time you found nothing and grew more frustrated.

“I’m losing my mind.” You sighed, tugging your hair at the root.

“You’ll go bald if that’s how you cope with stress.” A smug voice from over your shoulder commented.

“You-” You spun around, tripping over your feet in your haste. You tottered forward, swinging your arms to try and break your fall. Minhyuk’s surprised face was the last thing you saw before you fell into something solid, something that was very obviously not dirt.

Minhyuk’s firm hands gripped your shoulders and pushed you back into a standing position an arm’s length away, his dirty cheeks flushed a dusty rose.

“Ugh, its you. Why am I always falling when you’re around?” You grumbled, your former ire returning after the shock of his sudden appearance faded.

“I can’t help it if you’re falling for me.” He replied with a self-assured smirk and a shrug. 

“Would literally rather dive naked into a pit of poison ivy.”

“That can be arranged. Why are you wasting time here anyway? Shouldn’t you be baking?”

“I already told you, I’m not making anything for a brat like you.” You snapped, crossing your arms with finality.

“Guess you’ll have to give up whatever experiment you’re working on then. You won’t harvest anything here without my blessing.”

So he was behind this after all. True to his word, you hadn’t been able to forage anything at all since your last meeting.

You fumed, turning over your options in your head. As much as you couldn’t stand Minhyuk it surely would be less effort to bake for him than it would be to try and find a new place to gather, wouldn’t it? Every fiber of your being was revolting against you as you considered this, screaming that it was the principle of the matter and you shouldn’t submit to such an arbitrary demand, but logic slowly won out.

“Fine. But you’re helping me.”

***

“I do hope that you’re better at magic than you are at baking.”

“I would be done already if you just let me use my magic to begin with!” You practically shouted. Your appearance mirrored your companion’s, your faces and clothing speckled with flour. Your hands were stained blue and your failed attempt at crafting a blueberry pie by hand sat ominously on the windowsill where it was cooling.

“It tastes funny if you don’t make it by hand. Nymphs can’t tell lies, you know, so trust me on this. It isn’t the same.” Minhyuk grumbled, his nose wrinkling with the depth of his pout.

“How many people  are honestly bringing you pies for you to claim to know the difference?” You whined, but you were met with silence instead of the snarky reply you’d come to expect. You couldn’t help recalling having a similar argument with your Aunt in your youth. She, too, had always insisted that food tasted better when made with powers of the heart rather than with magic.

You turned your back on the oven and found Minhyuk eyeing your ceiling with a somber expression on his face.

“Um...are you okay?”

His snapped towards at an alarming rate, his features carefully rearranging into their default expression of haughtiness. 

“I’m fine. Just wondering if you’re polite enough to make sure that thing isn’t poisonous before you try to feed it to me.”

You stuck your tongue out in response but your eyes wandered to where his had been fixed moments before, and you felt a curious sensation in the pit of your stomach when they found the white heather wreath swaying peacefully exactly where Minhyuk had been staring so intently.

“You were looking at that.” Your finger pointed at the wreath, your voice questioning even though you’d made a statement.

Minhyuk watched at you, momentarily stricken silent, his eyes searching yours for something unknown.

“So what if I was?” He challenged, narrowing his eyes.

“Do you know something about it? Its a token my Aunt left me.” You asked tentatively, watching Minhyuk’s face closely.

“So what if I do?” He countered with a stony voice, his shoulders squared.

“Can you please tell me more about it?” You could feel your hands starting to shake with emotion.  

“Do you know what white heather symbolizes?” He asked slowly, after some consideration.

You shook your head in reply.

“Protection and the granting of wishes. One of her final living acts was to make that for you. It takes an incredible amount of power to craft an undying flower for someone not innately attuned to nature. She was very talented. She loved you very much.” He explained, his voice soft, his eyes seeking out the wreath again rather than you.

“How do you know that?” You breathed, your voice quietly shaking from the tears you were trying to swallow.

“I helped her make it. Did you never wonder what she spent so much time doing alone in the woods? I met your Aunt when I was still small. I still remember the day that she brought you home. She was so enamored with you. She tried many times to get me to leave the forest and meet you, but I refused.” 

You watched a small, sad smile curl Minhyuk’s lips upwards ever so slightly, bringing a pang to your heart as you quietly waited for him to continue.

“She still made time to visit me even though she was busy with you. It was hard at first and I was jealous, it gets lonely in the forest, but I managed. She would come and talk to me for hours, show me spells of her own design, bring me all kinds of food, ask me how the plants were doing, and I would show her some magic of my own. Nymphs are not very different from witches, you know. We both use magic, just of a different variety. We commune directly with the spirit of nature and create, where as you create based on things that we’ve already made. Yeah, your aunt didn’t much care for that observation either.” Minhyuk laughed loudly at your disgruntled expression, but his eyes were soft and kind as he reminisced on his past, making him even more beautiful to behold. His laughter slowly died out, giving way for the sadness to creep back into his eyes as he looked to the ceiling again.

“When she knew that she was dying...she came to me and asked how to create life. I refused at first, afraid that it was too ambitious for her frail form, afraid it would harm her, afraid of what she wanted to accomplish...but she was relentless. She came every single day and begged. When I finally asked her why, her answer was simple: for you. She wanted to show you that she was always with you. So I showed her, and of course she was eventually successful. She asked me to watch over you but...I still couldn’t bring myself to meet you. So instead I made that garden and I’ve been maintaining it ever since.”

Minhyuk ended his story with a deep sigh, sounding as if a great weight had been lifted from him, and finally returned his gaze to you. Your breath caught when he took a step forward and extended a hand towards you, using the tips of his fingers to brush away the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks unbeknownst to you.

“Why did you wait until now to reveal yourself to me? You’ve really been watching me all this time?” You whispered, your voice cracking.

“I had no choice when you started only leaving offerings with cucumber in them. I can’t eat cucumbers, they’re too disgusting. And because...because she always wanted me to be your friend. You such were an ugly, loud, mud-covered brat when you were young but you’re...different now. So I thought I should grant her wish after all.” A deep crimson blush, made even more vibrant in contrast to his snowy hair, blossomed across his cheeks. It must have been contagious, because you could feel heat rising on your face as well.

“W-what do you mean I was an ugly brat?! I was a normal child.” You blurted out with indignation.

“No, you were gross, just like that poor excuse for a pie.” He answered, his sassy attitude returning despite the lingering pink tinge of his cheeks.

You took the insult in stride, choosing to ignore it rather than start another battle of wits that you were sure to lose.

“You said that you were lonely. Where are the other nymphs?”

“They’re all spirits now. When a nymph comes of age they can choose to keep their corporeal form or they can become spirits. Most choose to become spirits because, I mean, you’re becoming one with nature and what more could you want than that? We aren’t born very often so it makes for a lonely childhood, which is another compelling argument for choosing a spirit form- you’re never technically alone again. I chose to stay in this body.” He finished matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

“I loved the old lady. I didn’t want to leave her. She asked me to watch over you for her and I wouldn’t want to leave you either. Even if you were a snot-nosed brat.”

“Well, you know they say that the ugliest ducklings are destined to become the most beautiful swans, so I’ll thank you for thinking so highly of me.” You teased, tapping Minhyuk’s nose with your finger playfully.

To your general astonishment his saturated blush from before returned.

“I never called you beautiful.” He stammered, looking away from you.

“But, do you think I’m beautiful? Nymphs can’t lie, right?” You asked, smirking as you peered at him, trying to get a better look at his face.

“No, nymphs can’t lie. And yes, I do think you’re very, very beautiful.” He whispered, still refusing to meet your eyes.

It was your turn for your face to glow like a sunset. You’d asked, expecting a snarky answer, not fully believing what he’d said previously about nymphs being bound to their honesty. Your lips formed a small, wordless “oh” as you stared at him, awestruck.

“You’re still a terrible baker though, so don’t let it go to your head.”

***

You pulled the oven door open with apprehension, bracing yourself for another failure, and gasped loudly when instead your eyes fell on what appeared to be a flawless blueberry pie.

You bounced on the balls of your heels excitedly before carefully extracting the dessert from the oven and placing it on the windowsill to cool where you could admire it safely from afar.

“Ahh, I can’t wait to show Minhyuk!” You squealed, clapping your hands together.

“Can’t wait to show me what?” 

You whirled around, more shocked than you perhaps should have been to find Minhyuk leaning against your doorframe.

In the weeks that had passed since he shared his stories about your Aunt with you he had been a near constant presence in your home, always making stupid excuses for why he’s there like “I’m just making sure you aren’t hiding any cucumber in my pie”. You had offered to let him stay over since you felt a little bad for him sleeping in the outdoors alone, but he always shyly declined.

“Come, look!” You were already dragging him by the hand to the window to show him your handiwork.

“Wow, that doesn’t look half bad.” He whistled, eyeing it with great interest, eyes sparkling. He took a step towards it, arm outstretched, earning a whack on the shoulder from you.

“It isn’t ready yet! It still has to cool or you’ll burn yourself.” You chastised, moving protectively in front of your masterpiece, hands on your hips.

“Okay, fine, fine.” Minhyuk said, massaging his shoulder with one hand and stifling a yawn with the other.

“Sleepy?” 

He nodded, swallowing another yawn behind his large palm.

“Its getting harder to sleep outside at night these days. Getting cold. I heard that long ago, when humans were less prevalent on Earth, it was more common for nymphs to choose to keep their physical forms. I always wonder what they did to keep warm.”

“Why don’t you take a nap while the pie cools? After you eat maybe we can think of some solutions for that.”

Minhyuk nodded, too exhausted to argue. He refused to be led to the bed though, insisting instead to sit next to you on the couch and sleep sitting up.

His resistance didn’t last. Before long he slumped to his side, his head tumbling into your lap. You caught your gasp in your hand, stifling it and carefully setting down the spellbook you’d been perusing while he napped so your movements wouldn’t disturb him while he slumbered.

You watched him sleep, oddly comfortable despite the slight awkwardness of his face pressed into your bare thighs. Without thinking your hand found his hair, smoothing it gently, relishing in how impossibly silken it was, your fingers gliding through the soft strands like they were water.

Minhyuk’s eyes shot open and you went to pull your hand away, embarrassed, but he caught it in his, holding you firmly in place as he adjusted himself so he was facing you. He stared up at you, blinking the sleep from his eyes, not speaking or removing his head from your legs.

“I-I think the pie should be ready by now,” You supplied after several long moments of silence, hoping to diffuse the tension in the air. “Why don’t we go get some?”

Minhyuk didn’t move immediately and something in his expression was making you feel like you were frozen in place, like he was seeing right through you and counting each of your racing heart beats in slow motion.

He finally lifted himself from your lap and quietly made his way to the kitchen and sat at the dinner table, waiting expectantly. You retrieved the pie, regretting that you hadn’t tried it yourself first as you cut a generous piece for him and slid it on a plate. You were silently praying to anyone that would listen that it would taste as good as it looked.

To your surprise Minhyuk didn’t hesitate to pile his fork with the pastry and bring it to his waiting mouth. You had expected him to make some catty remark about you trying the first bite, or taking a tiny bite “just in case”.

‘He must really be exhausted if he’s being so docile.’ You thought to yourself as you watched him chew with bated breath.

When he swallowed you swallowed with him out of nerves. The seconds of silence seemed like they stretched into hours as you waited for his reaction, but it never came. Instead he simply loaded up his fork again and took another bite, closing his eyes while he chewed. He continued like this until his plate was as clean as when you’d taken it out of the cabinet.

“Well? How was it?” You finally inquired, unable to contain yourself any longer, your nervousness making your voice come out in a higher pitch than normal.

Minhyuk stood, the sound of the chair scraping the floor making you jump, and moved towards you as if in a daze.

When his lips met yours, they tasted strongly of blueberry and sugar. You were too surprised to move at first but the ice around you slowly melted as he held you and your arms slowly circled his waist as your lips molded to his, your eyes fluttering closed.

His hands crept down your waist, gripping your hips firmly as he deepened the kiss. You felt your legs starting to wobble while he explored your mouth, the sweet taste of sugar and fruit on his tongue overwhelming your senses. His hold on you was all that was keeping you upright and you were starting to wonder if this was going to be the way you died, in the arms of a beautiful man without a breath of air left in your lungs, when he pulled away at last, chest heaving while you both struggled to catch your breath.

Minhyuk leaned forward, kissing your forehead softly in stark contrast to the heated one he’d pressed to your lips moments ago.

“It was wonderful.” He whispered, his lips moving against your forehead as they formed his words. He took a step back, his eyes overflowing with affection, and moved past you and out of the room. You followed him as he stumbled into your room, his exhaustion evidently taking over as he collapsed into your bed face first.

The deep breaths he was taking were confirmation enough that he had fallen asleep. You smiled tenderly as you looked down at his sleeping form fondly. Warmth bubbled up from the very tips of your toes, spreading throughout your body in a wave, making you feel impossibly at peace. You sighed through your nose, contented. Seeing him sleeping in your bed just felt so...right.

You padded back to the kitchen as slowly and silently as you could muster so as not to disturb your slumbering guest. You moved to cover the remaining pie and put it in the refrigerator for later, but stilled as something odd caught your attention from the corner of your eye.

Your cauldron, which you’d abandoned with your last failed experiment still stuck like cement to the bottom of it, was bubbling merrily. You rushed over, panic-stricken, and gasped when your nose was assaulted with the scent of fresh florals. The failed potion from before had sprung to life, it’s contents now a color that reminded you of Minhyuk’s hair, a comparison that made your cheeks flush involuntarily.

Then, as if you were struck by lighting, you were rooted to where you stood with the gears in your mind turning faster than you could comprehend. You glanced back at the sleeping nymph, realization finally dawning on you. A soft gasp slipped through your lips and the rosy color on your face deepened to a blazing scarlet.

You tentatively dipped a ladle into the concoction, sniffing its contents gingerly before taking a hesitant sip. Your eyes squeezed shut, a smile winding its way through your lips. You’d finally done it. You laughed to yourself at the irony of the situation, your eyes settling on the heather wreath swaying delicately in the breeze from the open window.

You’d been trying to all this time to create something that you were lacking when the ingredient you needed was what you were missing all along.

[celtics534]

Harry, Baby, Hurry Through the Window Tonight

As promised, the hinny Christmas fic! Huge thank you goes out to @gryffindormischief​ and @thedistantdusk​ for being awesome and helping out with this cute story. Written for the SIYE challenge.

Another Muggle AU based from the prompt:Okay, he’s not Father Christmas, but he did have a very good reason for breaking into the house.

Also Read On: FF.net and AO3

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Ginny flicked on her bedroom light at the second loud crash. She had bolted out of bed when the first thud echoed from the kitchen. Because the cat had been snuggled beside her, Ginny had no idea what or who it could be; she lived on her own. 

 She rose off the mattress slowly, hoping to avoid making the old frame creak. Grabbing the cricket bat from beside the bedroom door, she cautiously stepped out into the corridor. She didn’t live in a large flat. Just a few basic rooms, such as a kitchen and toilet. Hell, the kitchen was only separated from the sitting room by a small island tabletop.

 The house was dark, but Ginny knew the layout of her ground-floor flat well. She stepped over the dumping spot for her team kit, which never seemed to make it into the laundry bin at first. She then dodged the recently arisen Christmas tree near the sofa. The kitchen was cast in a half-light from the streetlamp outside, giving Ginny a view of a dark shadow crouched near the sink. 

 Not giving it a second thought, Ginny raised the bat up high bring it down as hard as she could on the figure. 

 "Fuck!" The figure spun on its heels, keeping low to the ground but now raising arms to cover its head. Ginny brought the weapon back up high, more than ready to swing again when the man made a stop gesture. "Wait. I can explain."

 "So can I." Ginny brought the bat down to his shoulder with a satisfying smack. "You broke into my house."

 The man --and now Ginny knew it was a man -- nodded as he crawled sideways, trying to get out of her swinging zone. "Yes I did, and I'm sorry about that, but it was the first place I found with an unlocked window!" 

 "Were you looking for an easy score?" Ginny followed him as he scooted across the floor, her bat at the ready. "Because if so, you’ve got another thing coming!"

 "Easy score?" She saw the man blink as he passed in a long beam of the street light. His eyes made her pause. They were hypnotic green. He shook his head wildly. "No! I wasn't coming to rob you. I was trying to get away."

Ginny held her pose, bat ready for the next swing, but her brow furrowed. "Get away from what?"

 The man kept his hands up, his palms showing. "Can I stand up to tell you? The floor is rather uncomfortable."

 She considered saying no; she didn't want him to have any advantage. But instead, she nodded. When he rose onto his knees, Ginny kept her voice low and menacing like Bill had instructed her all those years ago; it kept fear in her opponent. "You make one wrong move and I aim for the side of your head. And I don't miss."

 His eyes went wide as he nodded. "Fair enough." When he got to his feet, Ginny couldn't help but give him  a once over. Not only were his eyes entrancing, but he was fit. Really fit. Messy black hair stuck up in odd, strangely appealing angles on the top of his head, which somehow worked well with the scruff growing on along his jawline. Fuck. If robbing houses wasn't his career, then he must be a model. 

 Don't go there, girl, Ginny scolded herself. Now was not the time or place. The man was a full head taller than her so she had to look up in order to see his eyes;she wanted to be on guard for any changes, not just because they were so… provocative. 

 "So I guess I'll start with my name." He gave her an awkward yet way-too-endearing smile. "I'm Harry."

 Looks and a name to match royalty. Fuck, Ginny! She pushed her ridiculous musings aside. "All right, Harry." Ginny gestured with her chin towards the stools that sat by the island. "Why are you in my flat?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 "So just to get this straight." Ginny pointed the uneaten half of her reindeer-shaped biscuit. "This bloke at the pub thought you were making a move on his girl, but really she had made a move on you. So you ran away because he had mates ready to beat you up. You choose a random road and decided to try and hide in one of the flats. The first few windows were locked but mine wasn't, because I'd burnt dinner last night and needed to open the window to let the smoke out." She quirked a brow. "Does that about sum it up?" 

 Harry nodded, taking a sip from the chipped mug that Ginny had given him. This had become one of the weirdest days of his life. It had started with that handsy girl in the bar, and now he was having tea and biscuits with the woman who's flat he'd broken into. After he'd started his tale, Ginny had started the kettle, and now thirty minutes later, they sat together like best mates. 

 Really though… Harry couldn't help but like Ginny. She was inquisitive, funny (based on the comments made during his storytelling), and not to mention she had one hell of a swing. And none of that even started to cover how fucking attractive she was. At first, he'd considered letting her keep swinging that bat at him if it meant he could stare at her.  

 "So there is just one thing that I don't quite understand." Ginny licked at her upper lip, removing a few stray crumbs. Harry had to force himself to focus on her words rather than her movements. "Why did you try to open windows? That just seems like an odd choice to make."

 He nodded. She made a good point. "Honestly... I heard their voices yelling down the street and I just went into a ‘get the fuck out of the way’ mode. I didn't really think. It was a first instinct." 

 Ginny smirked an all too sexy smirk. "Quick on your feet there, Harry." 

 Was it normal to get aroused from someone saying his name? Harry swallowed hard, hoping his cheeks didn't give away his current -- thoughts. “Well, I mean...” His hand came to rub the back of his neck. “They don’t let just anyone become a bobby.”

 “Hmmm.” Ginny’s smile became mischievous. “That true. Gotta be careful with who you trust with handcuffs.”

 Harry, who had just taken a bite from his biscuit, started to choke. He coughed, clearing his lungs of the offending cake. 

 Ginny laughed, reaching across the small table to pat his back. “Really, I should be asking to see your warrant card.” 

 Through sharp intakes of breath, Harry reached into his trousers pocket and pulled out the little wallet he kept his card in. He flipped the cover off, revealing his horrendous photo. Ginny examined it for a long moment, taking in all the information, before nodding in satisfaction. “I guess you’re safe from my bat.” She winked. “For now.”

 “Much obliged,” Harry said through large breaths. 

 She smiled at him, leaning back into her chair. They sat in comfortable silence, the sounds of merry crowds milling outside filtered by the thick flat walls. Harry tried to keep himself from staring at Ginny, but it was a nearly impossible challenge. His eyes flickered between the freckles that spread across her cheeks and nose and the few strands of hair that remained out of the messy ponytail falling over her dark brown eyes… her bewitching eyes. Pull it together Potter!

 He cleared his throat, nodding towards the last biscuit on the plate. “Wanna split it?”

 Ginny cocked her head, squinting at him in consideration. After a moment she smiled and nodded. “I guess in the Christmas spirit, I’ll share.” She broke the wafer in half and handed one side to Harry. “But just so you know, normally I wouldn’t share.”

 “Well, then I feel honored.” Harry bowed his head at her before taking a bite. 

 She snorted, biting off the top of Santa’s hat. “So, now that you’re a wanted man, what’s your plan for the night?”

 Harry shrugged. “I guess I could go back to Remus’. I was supposed to meet an old college friend at the pub but he never showed, and”-- he checked his phone-- “never even texted to tell me what happened.”

 Ginny shook her head. “Some mate you have there.”

 “He probably got distracted by his girlfriend.” Harry rolled his eyes. “His excuse will be something along the lines of, he won’t see her for a week.”

 “Wow, your mate and my brother would get along swimmingly. Sometimes I think my brother will follow her in the loo -- and not to do anything that would get them on Santa’s naughty list. He just because he can’t be apart from her.”

 Harry laughed. “Joined at the hip?”

 “To say the least.” Ginny shook her head. “But back to you, my friend. What’s Harry’s new big bad Christmas Eve.” She glanced at the clock above the stove. “Make that Christmas Day plans?”

 “Oh, you know, going gallivanting across London. Find the blokes from before, challenge them to a duel to the death, win, impress all the women that have gathered around our battle and then find my future wife in the crowd. You know, a normal Christmas miracle.”

 Ginny stared at him for a moment, her mouth agape, before she started laughing so hard her shoulders shook. 

 Warmth spread through Harry’s chest as she laughed. Fuck, she had an adorable laugh. 

 “You, my good sir,” Ginny spoke through the tail end of her guffaws. “Have high holiday hopes.”

 He shrugged, hoping to feign nonchalance, but really his head was concocting a holiday fantasy around him and her. “What about you then?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, that the smile on his lips diluted. “What were you doing home on this fine eve?”

 Ginny brought the tea mug up to her lips, taking a sip before replying, “If you must know, I was already in bed. I have a long drive tomorrow morning and I wanted to leave early.”

 “Where are you going?” Harry tried to keep his tone casual while his mind played through different scenarios, all of which ended with her meeting her ruggedly handsome boyfriend for Christmas tea and having their own little present exchange. 

 “My family always gets together for presents. Typically I would be there tonight and we’d watch Love, Actually, but I had to work today so I figured I’d just leave tomorrow morning.” Ginny’s smile became wistful. “I thought about watching before bed tonight, but --” She shrugged.

 “It’s not the same,” Harry spoke quietly, knowing exactly what she meant. He knew what it was like to put off traditions that had once been an integrated part of the holidays. Ever since Sirius had…   

 When she locked eyes with him, Harry was certain there was more than just understanding passing between them. Her gaze seemed to ignite something inside him, making his whole body tingle. 

 “Would you like to watch it?” Ginny’s laid-back tone didn’t match the ardent look in her eyes. “I have the DVD somewhere around here.”

 Harry nodded. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

 Ginny beamed at him, making his heart race like he’d run a marathon. She stood from her chair and gestured towards the sitting room. “If you can figure out the entertainment system, I’ll make us some popcorn.”

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 Ginny pressed her nose into the warm pillow, refusing to let go of the satisfying feeling of being snuggled up in such a pleasant blanket. When the tip of her nose collided with something hard, her eyes opened in confusion. All she could see was green. Her pillowcase wasn’t green…

 She pulled away from Harry’s shirt, quickly becoming aware of her surroundings. Her sitting room sofa, a throw blanket, Harry’s back against the back of the sofa, his arm resting over her hip. Ginny was too shocked to move. What the fuck had happened last night?

 As if it were a film, her mind replayed the previous night. Settling down to watch Love, Actually, talking throughout the movie, scooting closer to share the blanket, how her head had used his shoulder as a pillow. 

 Okay, Ginny forced herself to take calming breaths, which didn’t really help anything seeing as it just filled her lungs with Harry’s woodsy scent. How does he smell so good? She mentally shook herself. Not the time, Ginny!

 Slowly, she lifted Harry’s arm off her. As gently as she could, Ginny rose off the cushions, hoping not to wake Harry. Ginny picked her phone off the coffee table, checking the time. She had just over an hour before she wanted to leave for her parents’ house. 

 Ginny considered her options. She could wake Harry and kick him out, wake him up and talk with him, or just leave him and make herself some breakfast. It wasn’t a hard decision, as her stomach growled loudly. 

 It didn’t take her long to scramble some eggs and toast. As she took the kettle off the hot mat, a groan came from the sitting room. Ginny considered her options again. Deciding it would just be easier to keep everything natural, she grabbed another mug from the cupboard. 

 When Harry’s head stuck up over the back of the sofa, shivers ran up Ginny’s spine. She’s always had a thing for messy dark hair, and mix that with everything else Harry had going for him… I swear to God, if you don’t calm the fuck down, girl.   

 “And here I was gonna bring you breakfast on the sofa.” Ginny laughed as Harry nearly fell off the cushions to look at her. His charming green eyes blinked rapidly. 

 “I -- uh --” Harry’s voice was alluringly rough, and Ginny had to contain another shiver. He cleared his throat. “Not that your sofa wasn’t comfy or anything, but why did I sleep on it last night?”

 Ginny snorted. “Because I wasn’t gonna let my almost robber sleep in my bed.” 

 Harry started at that. “That’s not what I --” 

 “We fell asleep watching the film last night,” Ginny interrupted, hoping to avoid giving Harry a heart attack. 

 “We --” Harry stood from the sofa and made his way over into the small kitchen. “Oh, right.” He stopped in beside the table, his forearm resting on the back of the chair. “Well, happy Christmas. I didn’t have time to get you anything, sorry.” 

 Ginny laughed. “Seems we’re both forgetful. Will you settle for a good breakfast?”

 “Best present I’ve received all year.” 

 It shouldn’t feel so natural, Ginny thought as Harry set the table with utensils from the drying rack. She shouldn’t feel comfortable with him eating at her table. Fuck, she definitely should not want to crawl back into his arms. But there was something about Harry that was just -- magnetic. 

 They ate, chatting about nothing and yet everything. She brought up how excited she was to spend Christmas with her little nieces. Harry smiled as he told her about getting to spend the holiday with his old university mate. They talked well after their plates were clean. Ginny knew it was getting closer to the time she needed to leave, but she didn’t want to. 

 It wasn’t until they were cleaning the plates together (her washing, him drying), that time became real again.

 “What time are you leaving?” Harry asked as he placed the dry fork into the drawer she’d shown him. 

 Ginny looked at the clock. “I should have left five minutes ago.”

 “Oh.” Harry’s tone was casual, but Ginny swore she saw his shoulders drop. “I guess I should get going, then.”

 Ginny wanted to say no. She wanted to ask him to stay, which was completely ridiculous. And yet, she wanted him to be there when she returned from her parents. Ginny wanted to curl back up on that sofa and watch another film… or not watch a film. 

 She was so distracted she didn’t notice that she’d been scrubbing the same plate for entirely too long until Harry’s hand came over to stop the motion. He’d moved in close, his eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?” 

 He was so close she only needed to lean up in order to connect their lips. It would be so simple, she even started rising onto her toes before something stopped her. She pulled back, clearing her throat. “I’m fine. Just thinking about the day.” 

 Harry nodded, his cheeks turning pink. “Right.” He put the flannel down on the counter before grabbing his coat off the back of the kitchen chair. He turned back to her, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Ginny, I -- I --” He sighed. “Enjoy your Christmas.” Then he was gone, closing the front door behind him with a gentle click. 

 Ginny put her head down on the kitchen counter, regret coursing through her entire body. Why the fuck hadn’t she at least gotten his number? She lifted her head to see it was well past the time she should have left. Sighing heavily, she went to go gather her presents. She needed to get going or face her mother’s wrath for being late. 

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 Harry tried to flatten his hair for the sixth time in ten minutes. There was no reason for his nerves. He was just stopping at his mate's childhood home for a bit. Harry just wished Ron had told him about the trip to Devon. When Ron has asked him to spend the holiday with him, Harry had mistakenly assumed he'd meant at his flat. 

 "Knock it off." Ron laughed as he turned down a long dirt road. "I told you, my mum's gonna love you, despite your inability to comb your hair."

 He sent Ron a rude gesture, which just made the redhead laugh harder. The drive curved every which way, making Harry grateful he didn't get car sick. After a few minutes of winding this way and that, they pulled up in front of an old farmhouse. The foundation was off-kilter, making the rest of the building lean, but Harry loved it. It had such a homely charm between all the Wellington boots on the front porch and the chickens roaming the side garden. 

 Ron parked the car between a Land Rover and old Ford. He reached into the back seat, pulling a bag full of wrapped gifts. "Just a little something for everyone." Ron shrugged off Harry's inquisitive look. 

 They made their way through freshly shoveled paths that lead to the front door. Without knocking, Ron walked into the house calling out greetings. Harry followed behind him, looking around at all the framed photos and comfy sitting room furniture. Three men chatted while a blonde woman tended an infant.

 "Ah, you must be Harry." A pleasant voice spoke from the adjoining doorway. A balding man held out his hand. "I'm Ron's father, Arthur." 

 Harry took the offering. "Thank you for having me." 

 Arthur's smile was just as calming as his voice. "Of course! Molly and I have been excited to meet the famous Harry Potter. Let me introduce you to everyone." Arthur placed a warm hand on Harry's shoulder, guiding him through the room. "There's Bill, Fred, and George over in the chairs there." He pointed to the group of men, two of whom had identical smirks. "Fleur, who is married to Bill, and their youngest, Dominique."

 Fleur looked up from the baby and smiled at him. Arthur roved over to the doorway he'd come from, which lead to the kitchen. While the sitting room has been peaceful with a crackling fire, the kitchen was a storm of activity. 

 "And this is my lovely wife, Molly." Arthur beamed at older woman mixing some sort of batter. "Molly, Ron's friend Harry is here." Molly stopped mixing, placing the bowl down on the counter before wiping her hands on her already covered apron.

 Harry expected a handshake or maybe a pat on the shoulder as a greeting, but Molly didn't do anything in halves. She pulled Harry into a bear of a hug, making him worry about his ribs cracking. “Lovely to meet you, Harry.”

 “You too, Mrs. Weasley.” Harry choked the words out. 

 When she released him, Harry took a deep breath. “Call me Molly, dear.” She looked over her shoulder at the well-scrubbed table where two women sat. “Oh, you haven’t met Angelina and  Alicia. They’re dating the twins.” The two women gave him a welcoming grin as they continued rolling dough. “I would introduce you to our daughter, but she’s out with Vic.” Molly glanced up at the ceiling with an annoyed look, that was negated by the smile on her lips. “I asked her to help me and then like magic she was minding the little one.” 

 Like a summoning the back door opened wide, letting in a cheering little girl. “I won, Aunt Ginny.”

 “That you did, girl, that you did!” That voice. Harry’s heart jumped into his throat, he recognized that voice. Ginny walked in, her smile wide as she looked down at her niece. “But next time you won’t be so lucky.”

 Harry knew his jaw must be on the floor, but all he could do was stare. That morning all he’d wanted to do was kiss this woman, but then she’d backed away. He hadn’t wanted to push her, so he’d backed off. But fuck! She had been in his head all day. The way she seemed to heat his entire body with just one look, and how perfect it had felt when her head rested on his shoulder. Harry regretted it the moment he’d walked out her front door, he’d even considered turning around but there had been a voice in his head saying maybe it was just one-sided. That maybe she’d had pulled away from him because she didn’t want to give him false hope. 

 But when their eyes met in that kitchen, Harry could feel it again. That raw heat, mixed in with shock. Ginny’s mouth fell open. “You!”

 “Ginny!” Molly scolded. “That’s no way to greet someone.” 

 Ginny turned towards her mother, blinking rapidly. After a moment she took a deep breath. “You’re right, Mum.” When her focus came back to Harry, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “So, which one of my brothers is your old uni mate?”

 “Ron.” Harry was shocked that words were able to get past his tied tongue. “I -- uh --” He was very aware that everyone in the kitchen was watching them: Arthur and Molly with confused smiles, Angelina and Alicia with grins that were more impishly amused. 

 Ginny seemed to notice the eyes on them as well because she pointed a thumb over her shoulder towards the back door. “Care for a tour around the garden?”

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 Ginny couldn’t stop glancing over at the man walking beside her. The entire drive over she’d cursed herself for letting him leave that morning, and now he was at her parents’? She didn’t believe in the idea of fate or destiny, but the moment she’d looked into his gorgeous eyes… Ginny started re-thinking her theory. 

 "So --" Harry cleared his throat. "Don't have your bat on you, right? Because I know how you respond when someone arrives unannounced."

 "What?" Ginny had to reel her mind back to the present. "Oh, right! Well, I always happen to keep a spare in the boot of my car.” She stopped in the middle of the cleared path and pulled Harry to halt by the hand. When his eyes locked onto hers, warmth spread throughout her body like wildfire. She sent him what she hoped was a coy smile. “But if you’re telling me I may need it." 

 Harry tugged her back as she pretended to head towards her car. His pull was more powerful than she’d expected and Ginny fell right into his chest. Harry pulled back, his cheeks red from more than just the cold. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to -- I, uh --” 

 Ginny couldn’t take it anymore. What was the point of avoiding -- whatever this was between them? Her mind drifted back the film they’d watch the previous night. “So is this the moment I casually mention I wanna marry you, have loads of sex, and have your babies?” 

 If Ginny had thought his cheeks were red before, Harry put a tomato to shame at that moment. His mouth fell open as he stared at her. She could see the wheels turning behind his eyes, his memory placing the line. He closed his mouth, a hesitant smile crossing his lips. “How about we start with the second thing on your list and make our way from there?”

 “I think...” Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck, bring him to her eye level. “I can live with that.” She pressed her lips to his. It didn’t take long for Harry to respond. His fingers pressed into her hips with a tantalizing pressure. With his body pressed tightly to hers and his scent (that addicting woodsy smell) filling her lungs, everything else seemed to disappear but him. 

 “Ginny? Oh!” Molly’s voice was the first thing to break through the fog Harry had created. Ginny pulled away to see her mother standing by the back door. In retrospect, she and Harry should have gotten out of sight of the house, but she just hadn’t been able to control herself. 

 Molly gave them what was supposed to be a sheepish grin, but instead her entire face glowed with delight. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted to know where she left my pie pan, but I’ll just go rummage through the cupboards. Just pretend I was never here.” And just like that, Molly was back in the house. 

 Ginny snorted. Her mum had never been one to see her children in their relationships. She’d expected to be told to get inside and get to work, but instead, her mother had --

 Harry blinked at her, his brow cutely creased in confusion.“What’s so funny?” 

 “My mum just encouraged me to keep snogging you.” Ginny shook her head, unable to hold back her amusement. “She once made Ron stop holding his girlfriend’s hand.” Her eyebrows creased. “But to be fair that girl was crazy, and everyone knew it. I guessing mum just didn’t like her.” 

 “Oh.” Harry’s confusion cleared, slowly replaced with a bashful smile. “But you think she likes me?” 

 Ginny leaned up to kiss him again. “I know I do.” She reluctantly pulled out of his arms. “Hey, you’re staying for supper, right? Would you like to stay for supper?”

 “Would you like to stay forever?!” 

 Ginny turned to the sound of her mother’s voice. Molly was hanging out the kitchen window watching the scene like an enthusiastic film watcher. All that was missing was the popcorn. “Mum!” Ginny yelled across the yard. “What are you doing?”

 “I said to pretend I wasn’t there, not that I wouldn’t be there.” Molly’s mischievous smirk was clear even from a distance. “What do you say, Harry dear?”

 “I --” Ginny turned back to Harry who was shaking, from what could only be silent laughter. “Oh, don’t encourage her,” she complained. 

 Harry laughed out loud this time. He pulled her back into his warmth, his mouth inches from hers. “And what will you do to stop me?”

 “Ah!” Ginny moved her fingers up to play with the little hairs at the base of his neck. “My bat isn’t my only method of persuasion.” Harry’s breath hitched as she ran her nose along his jaw. Just as her lips hovered over his, she stepped away. “But it is one of my favorites.” She turned and started towards her car. 

 Looking over her shoulder, Ginny laughed at the dumbfounded look on Harry’s face. Then he shut his gaping mouth and began chasing after her. As he caught her around the middle, his nose pressed into her neck. She spun in his arms and his mouth pressed to hers in a scorching kiss. Ginny had never been happier to have someone break in through her window. 

 She pulled back, nuzzling her nose to his. “I’ve got to say, Harry. You’re the most satisfying burglar I’ve ever had.”

 Harry snorted, “Just wait until I steal your heart.” When he brought his lips back to hers, she had to admit he was off to a good start.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 24

~*~Sebastian~*~

 After a period of extended kissing, we eased apart. I was starting to get a little cold. “We should move to the right direction on the bed.” She nodded her agreement. “I’ll get the covers.” They weren’t on the bed anymore. I have to say we’d made good use of the limited space we had. The space was good as a guest house, but it was small. The bed was a full and I don’t even want to talk about the size of the shower. Ok, I will say something. We’re not having sex in the shower here.

Emma arranged the pillows while I untangled the sheet and blanket. It felt like time for sleep. I don’t usually sleep naked, but I couldn’t bear the idea of there being clothing between us. Climbing back into bed, I held out my arm for her to cuddle up. She kissed my chest before laying her head down and putting her hand over my heart. I laid my hand on hers, folding my fingers over.

 “Tomorrow, well today, is Memorial Day. Do you have plans?” I held my breath.

 “Just a cookout. Nothing I can’t cancel.”

 “I don’t want to ask you to cancel out on your friends.” I actually kinda did.

 She lifted her head and pressed her lips to mine, “You’re not asking. I’m volunteering.” I leaned in, returning her kiss. She smiled and asked, “When’s your train?”

“Late as possible.”

 There was some more kissing before we tangled together, my head resting against hers, and we fell asleep.

 I woke up before Emma. Her hair was a mess on the pillow and covering her face on my chest. I very gently moved it away so I could see her. Fuck me, she’s beautiful. Might be the sex hormones, but fuck. I guess I hadn’t been as gentle as I thought because she started moving. I watched her stretch her shoulders and take a deep breath before sliding her hand around me, pulling me to my side. Then she opened her eyes.

 “Wow, you’re always so handsome.” She ran her fingers through my hair, “Even more when you’ve just woken up and your hair’s all messy.”

 Seriously? She opens her eyes and this is the first thing she says to me. My god. I . . . she . . . maybe . . . aw, fuck it. I laced my fingers into her messy hair and brought us together. Her mouth fell open as I got close and we’re right back where we left off last night. She’s right, we haven’t spent enough time just kissing for the sake of kissing. We’ve got all day.

 Pressing my hips into her wasn’t a conscious move. She pushed me away, “Is that morning wood, or do you want me?”

I don’t know if it’s the words or the slightly deeper tone of her voice in the morning, but if I wasn’t hard for her, I would be now. “Started as morning wood then I saw you were still here.”

“Where else I would I be?” The smile that reached her eyes and the slight wobble of her head, emphasizing her words, send a shock through me.

 I shook my head, “I don’t know, but I’m fucking ecstatic you’re here.”

 “Me too.”

 While we kissed I reached behind me to find the condoms on the nightstand and shoved them under the pillow. Closer is better. I put my hand between her legs, my fingers sliding inside her, and finding her slick. I kissed over to her neck, “Love how you feel.”

 She reached over my head and I felt her digging where I’d stashed the condoms. “I want you, Bastian.”

That went right to my cock.

 I kept playing with her while she sheathed me. Her hand wrapped around me, stroking me, then gripping tighter to lead me to her. I took her top leg over my hip, entering her as she guided me. From there it was all kissing and fucking. Occasionally one of us would run a hand over someplace or tease a nipple, but it was really about where we were connected. It felt so good that there was never a need to change anything. I felt my orgasm coming. I also felt her hand grab my ass, her suck my tongue, and her walls contracting around my cock. I joined in, thrusting deep to come. We never broke the kiss.

 What could have been an hour or two minutes later our mouths separated. I buried face in her hair, “I think we just broke a law of physics or something.”  Emma started laughing, which made her tighten up around me. My cock was too sensitive for the pressure. I winced and pulled out. “Ok, I’m going to get rid of this condom and take a quick shower. Then I’ll pack up and we can go say goodbye to the parents.”

 “I’ll shower while you pack. Not getting near your mother reeking of all sorts of sex with her son.”

I chuckled, “Good point.” I nodded in the direction of the bathroom, “I’d invite you to join me, but you’ve seen how tiny that shower is. I barely fit.”

 “I have a big shower.”

 I raised my eyebrows, “We’ll have to get dirty again.” I gave her a quick kiss, fighting myself to not let it be more, and headed to the bathroom.

 I don’t remember last time I smiled so much during a shower. Yesterday had been quite the day. Hell, it had been three days of smiling. I left it at that, determined to stay in the moment for at least another twelve hours or so. I was having way too much fun to ruin it with overthinking. My therapist would be very proud of me.

 Wrapping the towel around my hips, I went back into the bedroom. Emma wasn’t there, but the bed was made and all the condom wrappers were gone. She didn’t have to do that, but it was sweet she had. I heard noise in the other room and yelled, “I’m out.” A second later she walked into the room wearing one of my shirts. It’s a miracle I didn’t drop to my knees and say thank you to a god I wasn’t sure I believed in. I pointed all over her, “This is hot.”

 She made the same gesture, “So is this.”

 When she got closer, I grabbed a chunk of my shirt and pulled her closer for a kiss. “Do this all the time.”

 Her smile and the way she laid her hand on my cheek had me wanting to tell her to do that all the time too. “I’ll be quick.”  She walked away, letting her hand trail over my shoulder. I stayed with my back to the bathroom until I heard my name. I turned to see her standing there naked. She tossed my shirt at me, “Thanks for the shirt.” She closed the door.

 I put my hands high on the door frame, pressing my body to the wood, “You’re teasing me. Please, don’t stop that either.” The laugh I heard from inside made it even better.

 We dumped the trash in the cans by the garage and stopped to put our stuff in the SUV. Only then did I see the wrapped-up package in the back, “Shit, I forgot all about the stained glass.”

 Emma jumped and clapped her hands, “This is going to be fun. I can’t wait to see her face.”

I took the package and Emma put her hands on my ass, pushing me up the deck stairs. Mom and Anthony were sitting at the table in the breakfast area having coffee and leftover pastries from yesterday. “Mom, I got you something at the festival thing we went to the other night.”

 She stood up and came over to the counter, “You didn’t have to, Sebastian.”

 Emma spoke up, “He was so excited when he saw it.” I put my arm around her and kissed her head. I liked the comfort she had with my family.

 Mom peeled away the brown paper and put her hand over her mouth, “Oh son, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

 I let go of Emma to hug my mom, “You’re welcome. I thought it would look good in here.”

 “I think you’re right. Will you hang it before you two head out?”

 “Of course.” I pushed Emma to go sit at the table while I got us some coffee. “We’re going to head back to her place then she’ll follow me back to drop off the SUV. I’ll figure out train schedules” I shook my head and shrugged “later.”

 After chatting over coffee, I went for the hammer. The artist had told me how to hang the piece of art to keep it safe and included a couple of hangers. The chain was adjustable and it didn’t take long for me to have it hanging in the half-moon shaped window, just as I’d pictured it. Mom and Emma stood back in the room looking. I turned and they both nodded their approval. I was glad my two best girls liked it . . . whoa . . . I laughed out loud and they both looked at me strangely. Mom didn’t think anything of it and Emma would learn. I hugged mom again, “I’m glad you like it.”

 “I do.” She pulled away and gave me a kiss, “You two go enjoy what you’ve got of the day.” She turned from me and hugged a surprised Emma, “Thank you for all your help yesterday.”

 “You’re welcome. I had fun.”

 Anthony followed mom’s lead and hugged Emma too, then me, and we were off. As soon as we were pulling out of the drive I reached for her hand, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, and thank you.”

 She pulled my hand up and kissed it, “You’re welcome.”

 I glanced over and saw her questioning face. I’d planned to explain, “For making the bed this morning, for helping out yesterday, for being excited about seeing my mom happy, and most of all for helping me find chocolate chips.”

 Emma kissed my cheek, “Thank you for being lost.”  We both laughed. “Hey, I was thinking, why don’t we have our own cookout? I’ve got a grill on the deck. We can pick up some stuff on the way back.”

 “Sounds great. Can we get some breakfast too? I’m starving.”

 Her place was maybe ten minutes from my parents. We were back quickly and I ran the keys in. It wasn’t unexpected that mom had questions. I’d warned Emma I might be a minute. I leaned against the counter, fiddling with my fingers. I think I’ll be dead before mom’s opinion doesn’t matter.

 “I didn’t expect you to bring her along yesterday.”

“I didn’t expect her to come. I read her your text and she said sure.”

 “I was wary. I’m always going to be wary when there’s a woman around you.” She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know. She was always worried about someone wanting me for me. I was about to tell her she didn’t need to worry, but she went on. “I don’t think she came with you to suck up to the parents. She wanted to spend time with you. Wherever you were.” I nodded my agreement and she continued. “I like her.”

 I felt the smile hit my cheeks, “Yeah, I like her too.” I kissed my mom’s cheek.

 “I could tell by the way you were making out on the deck.”

 I clapped my hands together, “With that embarrassing moment, I’m going to go. I’ll call you later this week. Love you.” I hugged her again.

 “Love you too, Sebastian.”

 I was still shaking my head when I got in Emma’s CRV. She threw it in reverse, “How’d that go?”

 “Not bad. She was impressed you came over to help and she likes you.” Didn’t need to share the rest of the conversation. I was confident Emma liked me for me. I’d gotten good at detecting the fake shit and she’d made it clear last night.  Very painfully clear.

 “I like them too. I was very nervous. As soon as I said I’d go I thought how weird it was since we’d met all of three days ago.”

 I put my hand under her hair where I could touch her neck, “Explain to me exactly what hasn’t been weird with us?”

 She pursed her lips, “Good point.”

 “I like how you just say things and get it out there. I like how you talk to me.”

 A slight blush crept over her cheeks, “I like how we talk.”

 My turn to lean closer and kiss the driver.

[apriorisea]

BTS Imagine Series: Safety First, Pt 5

Yoongi x You

Alone in his studio, Yoongi’s thoughts run wild, even after receiving texts from Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jimin about your safety. He can’t stop thinking about the threats, the absence of your touch, the stupid lock on your door, the look on your face as you left. He sits in absolute silence.     He sends a message to the group: Is someone staying with her tonight?     It’s a long time before Jimin texts back: her door is locked, we’ve all checked on her, she’s fine. she asked that we give her a little break.     He stares at the message for a full three minutes, trying to understand. A break?? Her life is in danger, and they’re ‘giving her a break’?? He types out seven different responses, but none of them convey the right feeling of outrage, so he gives up, staring at the phone as his mind goes numb with worry.     His phone vibrates, and he looks down to find a follow-up text from Hoseok: She’s tired and we got done really late. She just needs some rest.     JIN: Just like you     JIMIN: i’m going to see her 1st thing tomorrow morning, hyung. it’ll be fine.     Tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning could be too late. He feels the anxiety double-down, feeling his stomach clench with the worry. He reaches for his phone again, wanting to call you, to hear your voice, to make sure you were okay, but stops just short of dialing your number yet again. He sits in the deafening silence for hours.     At 2:14am, he feels like he’s going to explode into a million tiny pieces, so he gets up out of his seat, and paces back and forth. All he can think about is your door, about the dozens of posts online threatening your safety; any time he closes his eyes for even a second, he can see that stupid door swinging open on its own, admitting someone who wants to hurt you.     ENOUGH. Without another thought, he grabs his jacket and rushes out of the studio, letting the door close hard behind him. He hurries down the hall, hoping he isn’t too late already, and comes to an abrupt stop when he sees his older brother passed out on the hallway couch.     It takes him a moment to fully process what he’s looking at, and when it finally goes through, he takes a small breath and shakes his head. A part of him knows that he should be grateful for Jin’s friendship and care, but he can’t think about anything except you---still, he takes a second to throw his jacket over his brother before hurrying down the hall and out to the parking garage.     He gets to your apartment in record time, pulling into a spot right in front of the building. He studies the surrounding area for a second, then climbs out of his car, ducking his head against the rain and wind. His feet know the way all on their own: he easily climbs the stairs to your apartment, his heart in his throat the entire time.     As soon as he sees the door to your apartment, his eyes go to the familiar doormat and a rush of longing hits him so hard he nearly loses his balance. Pushing forward, he holds his breath and reaches out to turn the door handle.     It holds.     Relief courses through him, taking with it all the adrenaline and leaving him with nothing. He sags against the frame, resting his forehead against the door, and trying to ignore how much it hurts to be this close to you and still not feel you in his arms. He stays like that for a long time, then slowly straightens. He checks the door one more time before turning to go.     A little less panicked this time, he walks slowly down the stairs and outside, ignoring the cold rain. He climbs back in his car and leans his head back against the seat, forcing himself to take a deep breath.     The relief is short-lived. Another vehicle drives past his spot, the driver slowing as if to look at the building number, and every part of him panics again. The door is locked now, but someone could always try to break in. He sits up, hands gripping the steering wheel, and ducks his head to check your windows: all dark, all still peaceful. Exhaling a shaky breath, he folds his arms across his chest and settles in.     He stays all night, watching the building.     He doesn’t sleep.

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

You wake up with a small gasp, and your first instinct is to roll towards him; just one touch and the aftertaste of your nightmare would be gone. You feel the numb fuzziness settle back in as you slowly remember why you grasp at empty air.     It hurts. You press your hand against your mouth and wait until the initial wave of pain subsides, then turn to look at your clock: 6:53am. You’re off work today. A few days ago, you would’ve relished the chance to spend all day at the company with Yoongi, just hanging around him while he works, but now....     You sit up sharply. No more tears. Swinging your legs out of bed, you wash your face, pull your hair into a messy ponytail, and get dressed quickly. Grabbing your headphones, you feel your stomach growl a little as you near the kitchen and flip on the light. As your eyes adjust to the brightness, you realize that you had left Jin’s pancakes sitting on the table all night. You think of their promises to visit you today and feel guilty. The guilt prompts you to set your headphones on the counter and quickly clean up, dumping the pancakes into the trash before you have second thoughts. When you’re finished, you take a second to look around the room. Does it look like I’m fine?     Every part of you screams how not fine you are, and the tiny thought that was contemplating a protein bar gets squashed. You rub at your forehead and say out loud: “No more tears. Time to run.” You were not going to spend your morning wallowing in bed. Without another look, you grab your headphones and head for the door, trying to get excited by planning what route you’d take that day.     You step into the hallway, lock the door behind you, and then....freeze.     Yoongi?     Even though you know you are alone in the hall, you look around sharply, searching for something your gut knows you won’t find. Stupid, you think. Of course he’s not here. What’s wrong with you?     And yet...........for some reason, you can’t shake the feeling that he had been there recently. It was like a 6th sense; you could just feel him. You just miss him, a part of your mind chastises. You’re acting crazy.     Leaning back against the door, you close your eyes and rub vigorously at your forehead. You’re just tired. It’s impossible. You just want to think he’s here. Pull yourself together. You push away from the door, putting your headphones on and turning them up full volume as you leave the building.     You didn’t intend to go very far, but end up running 10 miles that morning. By the time you get back to your apartment, you’re drenched in sweat and exhausted. As you climb the stairs, you’re already trying to decide what to do with the rest of your day. You reach your floor and stop.     The strange sense of his presence hits you like a truck, and you have to reach out to hold the banister to stay on your feet. “Stop,” you reprimand yourself through gritted teeth. This won’t make anything better.     But even as you force yourself to walk to your door, unlock it, and step inside, you can’t stop thinking about it. He was here, he was here, he was here. Irritably, you rip off your headphones and toss them on the couch, sliding out of your shoes and going to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. You guzzle the whole thing and once again consider eating something, but before you can decide, your phone buzzes in your pocket.     JIMIN: r u back from ur run?     You sigh. You’d completely forgotten about Jimin’s visit, so when he’d called you halfway through, you’d almost ignored it. Really, it had worked out for the best: you weren’t sure you were ready to see any of them yet today. Still, you felt bad for ditching him. Hey, you text back, I just barely got back. Are you at work now?     JIMIN: yes. u ok?     Yes. I’m really sorry about this morning, I just needed to...move. I’ll see you later?     The box of protein bars is staring at you, but your stomach is too unsettled from your run, so you ignore it, glancing back at your phone when it buzzes again.     JIMIN: don’t apologize. yes, i will definitely see u later. do something relaxing today! <3 u     You text back a smiley emoji accompanied by a heart and set your phone aside. Something relaxing....     Inadvertently, your gaze wanders back to your phone.     You hold your breath.     I’ll just call him really quick, ask him if he came by the apartment, you start rationalizing. It won’t be a long conversation. I just want to know if I’m completely crazy, or---     “You’re crazy,” you say out loud, clenching your hand into a fist to keep it from reaching for your device. As much as you want to call him, you can’t forget the smoldering pit of anger in your stomach. Your pride is still very much intact, and every reminder of the anger is like the prick of a needle.     Instead of calling him or eating anything, you snatch your phone off the counter and stalk down towards the bathroom: you were going to take a long bubblebath and watch some trashy reality TV.

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

“I don’t know,” Jin says tiredly, rubbing a hand across his face. “I was waiting for you guys before going to ask him about it.”     Taehyung is frowning. “Are you sure he went somewhere? Maybe---”     “I woke up at 6:15,” Jin explains. “I somehow had his jacket and the studio was empty.”     “Maybe he just went to the bathroom?” says Jungkook hopefully. “He---”     Jin shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I went to look for him, and when I circled back around sometime around 6:45, he was back in his studio, like nothing had happened.”     “And you didn’t ask him?” Hoseok asks again.     “No.”     Hope flits across Taehyung’s face. “Maybe he went and saw her. Maybe everything’s okay--?”     Jimin makes a soft sound of disagreement, and when the others look at him, he holds up his phone: “No, she hasn’t seen him. Things are still the same.”     The hopeful atmosphere is dashed; Jin leans back against the couch in exhaustion.     Jungkook notices. “You did a good thing,” he says quietly. “I know Yoongi-hyung appreciated it.”     Jin laughs hollowly. “How much good could it have done, since he slipped right past me?”     Hoseok makes a disgruntled noise and looks at Namjoon. “We are still good on the revised schedule, right? The dance practice got moved?”     “Yes.” Namjoon has been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the discussion. He shoves his hands deep in his jacket pockets. “I mean, we only have a few days, but it is some sort of cushion...”     “Is that really what’s best, though?” muses Taehyung.     Hoseok shakes his head at him. “You think he could make it through an entire dance practice the way he is now?”     “Well, no,” he admits quickly. “But what’s the alternative? He stays in the studio all day again?”     The others mull this over, and finally Namjoon speaks. “Good or bad, it’s what’s happening. I don’t think we should all go see him at once right now. Maybe just a few, or even just one, so that---”     “I’ll go,” Jimin puts his phone back in his pocket. “I’ve spoken with her today, so I can give him a little update.”     “That’s good,” Namjoon agrees. “Okay.” He looks around the circle, noting Jin’s half-closed eyes and the worry evident on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces. “It’s gonna be fine, guys. One way or another, this will work out.”

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

He looks up as the door opens.     “For shame,” Jimin says with a smile, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “You make Jin-hyung sleep on the couch all night, and make him worry about where you go?”     Yoongi blinks blearily; he’s so tired that everything seems to be moving in slow motion. “I...” he has to refocus on his little brother a few times. “I gave him my jacket...”     If he didn’t look as bad as he did, Jimin would have laughed a little at this statement. But because the dark circles under his eyes had gotten worse and his hair was a mess and he looked like he was on death’s door, it only made Jimin’s stomach lurch. “Right,” he agrees softly. He takes a few steps towards the desk. “So where did you go?”     “I...” Yoongi blinks again and rubs at his eyes violently. The confessions slips out: “I went by her apartment. Checked the door.”     Jimin sighs. “I told you we had checked.”     “Yeah, but---but it could’ve changed at any point. Someone could’ve forced the lock, or it could’ve opened on its own after you guys looked.”     The realization hits Jimin slowly. “So you---wait, are you saying that you...what....stayed at her apartment all night?”     Yoongi leans back in his chair. “Not all night, and I had to leave around 6, but...yeah.” When there’s silence, he finally looks up and notices the distraught expression on his brother’s face. “I had to make sure,” he says defensively. “I had to make sure she was safe.”     It makes Jimin want to cry. Instead, he nods and leans down to put his arms around Yoongi, hugging him tightly. “I know,” he says quietly. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Getting his emotions under control, he straightens. “I spoke to her this morning.”     Yoongi’s eyes widen at this. “And??”     “She’s safe,” he says, then answers the next question before it can be asked: “She doesn’t have to work today, so she’s going to hang out at home, relax a little. She’s going to be fine.”     He’s nodding along with the words, his eyes faintly glassy. “Good, good, that’s...” he suddenly slumps in his chair, energy wasted. “That’s really good.”     Jimin puts a hand on his arm, but doesn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, when it’s clear that Yoongi wasn’t going to say anything else, he clears his throat. “So you know that dance practice got rearranged, right?” There’s a nod and he continues, “So...what are you going to do today? Take a little nap, maybe?” He’s relieved when his brother doesn’t immediately shoot down the idea.     “I’ll work,” he says robotically, then blinks again. “Maybe take a nap, yeah.”     “Good. That’s really good.” Jimin decides to push his luck. “Why don’t you come over here to the couch, get settled?”     Yoongi stares up at him unseeingly. “My phone’s charging here.”     “...Right. But you could come to the couch and---”     “No. It’s fine. Do you know if anyone’s going to go visit her today?”     Jimin tries to swallow his frustration. “I don’t know. Probably,” he adds quickly. “Maybe after you take a nap, we could---” The look of absolute fear that crosses Yoongi’s face stops him dead in his tracks. “...Have you eaten?”     He nods, an obvious lie, but forces himself to meet Jimin’s eye. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” The words sound brusque, but his intentions are understood perfectly.     “Yeah,” Jimin agrees quietly, and he squeezes Yoongi’s shoulder. “I’ll come back and see you later, okay?”     “And---”     “And I’ll update you with whatever I hear from her. Of course.”  Jimin smiles faintly, but can’t resist one more attempt before he leaves: “Try and get some rest.”     And the thing is, Yoongi tries. Or, at least, his body caves to the all-encompassing need for sleep, and over the next few hours he drifts off several times, still siting in his chair. Every time, he is jolted awake by another nightmare: visions of you getting hurt, you screaming his name while he’s unable to reach you in time. The panic is suffocating, and he wakes with a start, reaching for you and feeling his world collapse each time he realizes you’re not there.     He doesn’t get any work done. He checks his phone, he drifts into a terror-filled dreamscape, he wakes, he panics, he checks his phone---a seemingly endless pattern that drags him through the first few hours of the day.     By noon, he’s a sorry-looking sight: his eyes are heavy, his head is pounding, every part of him aches, and his lips and throat are dry. His hand shakes as he reaches for his phone, and though he clears his throat several times, his voice is still hoarse when he asks his manager to drive past your apartment again for a quick check-up.     It’s 2pm when the door to his studio is thrown open, and a barrage of people enter: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, and an exhausted Jin, flanked by a few managers, and, most importantly, the head of security.     A part of his sleep-deprived brain actually thinks he’s dreaming again. He stares at them unseeingly, having a hard time processing what’s happening; everything still feels fuzzy, but the dread is starting to creep up his throat. Jimin crosses to stand next to his chair, Taehyung hangs back near the door uneasily, Jungkook is fidgeting with his ears, but Jin looks him dead in the eyes and says: “We have some news.”     He feels like he can’t breathe, so he blinks slowly.     Taehyung obviously sees the struggle on his face, because he jumps in immediately. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.” He says it twice, like that will make it true.     The head of the security team takes a deep breath. “I know you are aware of the threats that have been made online---”     Your name bursts from him, and he sits forward in his seat. “Is she okay??”     Jimin puts a hand on his shoulder. “She’s safe,” he says intently.     He might not have believed it from anyone else. “What happened?”     “We have reason to believe the threats have crossed a threshold and that she may actually be in danger.” The team leader looks like he would rather be anywhere else in the world at that moment. “Nothing has happened and we are working to ensure her continued safety.”     Jin sees the flash of anger cross his brother’s expression and takes a step forward; his face is lined with exhaustion and worry. “Security is on the way to her apartment---”     “Along with Namjoon-hyung and Hoseok-hyung,” Jungkook can’t help but interrupt.     “---The police have been contacted,” Jin continues. “And it is my understanding that we are close to finding the perpetrator themselves--?” he leaves it open, turning to look back at the security team leader.     He nods. “Yes. In addition, we are tracking every single supportive interaction, so there will be no loose ends when we are finished.”     Yoongi is only half-listening; he rips his phone from the charging cord and has your contact pulled up in half a second. He hits send, clutching the device to his ear, and listens as it rings once, twice, three times. The rest of the room is holding their breath with him, so when the call gets forwarded to voicemail, the tension is palpable. He pulls the phone away from his ear numbly and Jimin squeezes his shoulder again, but he’s not sure if it’s simply for comfort or to keep him in his seat.     “The others are on their way,” Jungkook says again, his voice getting louder in his anxiety. “They were going to call her, too, she’s probably just on the phone with them.”     Jin nods in agreement immediately, though the first signs of worry are showing through. “Namjoon, Hoseok, and a whole team of bodyguards,” he adds. “Undoubtedly her phone is busy.”     He’s already opening a text conversation: Is she safe     Jimin sees the message. “We’ve caught this early,” he says quietly, his fingers still digging into his brother’s shoulder. “Nothing has happened, and nothing is going to happen. The only reason we’re telling you is so you don’t hear from someone else and worry.”     “Why isn’t she answering her phone?” The question slips from him before he can stop it, his voice hoarse.     Taehyung moves towards him, drawn in by his older brother’s pain. “The others are probably already with her,” he begins, reaching out to put his hand on Yoongi’s other shoulder. “Since she didn’t know about any of this, there’s a lot to catch her up on. They will all text us when things are settled.” He moves his hand and carefully pulls Yoongi’s phone out of his grasp.     “We’re initiating protocol,” the team leader says abruptly. “And we need to move now.”     Jimin turns to face him, calling his name until Yoongi looks away from his phone. “Where do you want to be, hyung?” he asks calmly.     “I....” he blinks. “Here. I’m---I’m going to stay here.”     “Okay.” Jin can tell the security team is getting anxious to move. “You have to eat something,” he says seriously, beckoning the others away. “We need everybody to be in peak condition, just in case.”     Taehyung puts the phone back on the desk and follows his bodyguard out the door with a quiet, “See you soon” to the others; Jimin grabs Yoongi’s hand and says, “It’s going to be okay. This will be over soon. Don’t worry.” Jungkook is ushered away before can say anything, but he leaves the room looking over his shoulder with wide eyes.     Jin comes to Yoongi and pushes a granola bar into his hand. “Eat this,” he instructs. “Stay put, get some rest. We’ll be in touch with every update. Okay?”     He nods numbly.     His older brother knows that it didn’t sink in, but the team leader is calling him away, so all he can do is give him a look before he’s dragged away. The bodyguard left with Yoongi gives him simple instructions, then, clearly feeling awkward, leaves the room.     The world is spinning. He’s been awake for too long, there’s nothing in his stomach, the dehydration is making every muscle ache, and he can’t breathe. He hasn’t moved since the others left. Why aren’t you answering your phone? Where are you? Are you safe? Why aren’t you here with me?? How could I mess this up so bad?     Everything hurts and you didn’t answer the phone and neither Namjoon nor Hoseok has responded yet. He slowly slips out of awareness, letting the fog overtake him.

[roseamongroses]

Antithesis: (1) “cracks knuckles its time to get educated fools”

Summary: For their Junior project, Roman is unceremoniously paired with Dmitri. 

He's hardly interacted with the guy, a strange occurrence since Virgil has had a weird/unexplained hate-hate relationship with him since middle-school. But it isn't like he's complaining. Dmitri's cute, he compliments Roman, and damn can he paint.So Roman may or may not catch feelings, and he may not be wiling to uncatch them anytime soon.--Dmitri returns the sentiment.

[General Warnings:] Misgendering, Past Misgendering, Past Bullying, Mild Sexual Content,  implied emotional abuse, Cursing [Tags/mood:] highschool au, project troupe, fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men [Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters] Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana) 

(1) (2)

R: hey this is Roman[star] [crown] [star]

R: what do you have in mind for the project??

---

As simple as that text was, according to his very reliable memory, it took him exactly an entire decade to work up the nerve to send that. And he was not a coward mind you- reasonably afraid of sudden movements, sure, but no damn coward. He made sure to inherit the fight gene when he was in the womb with Virgil, around the same time he graciously decided not to absorb the little shit.

As if to further emphasis the magnitude of his fetal sacrifice, Virgil gulped down the rest of the milk. Straight from the pint. Just as Roman poured his cereal.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, “What’s got you all riled up prin-cy?” he tossed the pint. Even though Mom wasn’t there to rag on him for being an absolute heathen, she could still do so later if he left behind evidence.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He ate his cereal dry, carefully avoiding Virgil’s scrutiny.

“Oh--” Virgil choked, “Oh shit, what did you do.”

“Excuse me,”Roman squawked, “I did nothing, you here? I am a good child.”

“Fuckface,”

“We have the same face,”

“Fuckface,” Virgil flicked his dyed purple, and regularly straightened hair for emphasis, “Last time you didn’t actively shout your problems, we found several stray cats in your room--and then there's the time you lit grandpa’s shed on fire with your self care candles and then there was the homecoming incident of fres-”

“--Ok,” Roman interrupted, “--wow Virgil, drag up my entire hero’s journey while you’re at it,” he pouted, “It’s no big deal, really.”

“When the hero’s journey could make a convincing argument in a court of law that you’re unreasonably fire-prone, then yes it's a big deal Ro, spill.”

“I’m just a little,” understatement, “Overwhelmed, by our junior project--” It's definitely not the project, definately definately, definitely not the project.

“That thing?” Virgil frowned, confused, “Me n’ L, going down to the space-station to do interviews, and a couple of presentations, what's going on in the art department?”

“Fuckin’ nerds,” Roman snorted, stabbing his cereal again, “Pat jus’ had to switch last minute to help the new kid out, so Dee and I got paired together and he--”Roman looked up,suddenly very aware of how Virgil’s normally slouched position became deathly straight, face calm, “Uh...Virge…?”

Roman feels like he forgot something important.

Virgil smiled, “What did that snake-fucker Dmitri do?”

Bingo, that’s what he forgot.

It wasn’t like Virgil’s thing with Dee was something that could be traced back to one particular incident, more like a culmination of the two being forced into being in each others general vicinity when they did not in fact want that company.

Roman avoided that drama, mainly because Virgil and him could hardly stand each other at the time either. So most of what he knows is second hand.

Though Virgil has explained it as, “When he opens his mouth, my flight or fight response is activated.” and as far as Roman knows Dmitri just returned the sentiment.

Roman shoved another spoonful of cereal in his mouth, “Chill, it’s Nothing, really, just, he said something that caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed, “If he does it again, tell me,” he said, “Logan says I can restart the prank war with probable cause.”

Roman shrugged,“-Kay” he said

He will most certainly not.

---

D:Sanders? from 3rd block?

R: ye who else would i be??? where is this other roman???

D:Who knows? How do I know you’re not Virgil w/ Roman’s phone?

R: //gasp// i am no fake. 

D: Proof?

R:[Picture: Roman’s knees are pulled to his chest, him pouting at the camera. 

His hair dyed aubrun and  thrown into a messy bun, paint and freckles littering his  brown skin]

[ThatOneGuyThatVirgilHates <3’s a picture]

D: Oh thank god you are the cute one

---

[out of the way fives]

Hotleg: so.

Sipsipsippin: dammit roman.

Hotleg: i didnt even say anything how dare

Sipsipsippin:hon, i dated you, i know.

Hotleg: we made out like once

Sipsipsippin: i know.

Hotleg: it was like, eigth grade

Sipsipsipin: i k n o w

Hotleg: ok, ok wise and powerful, remington. Guess who it is, bitch.

Sipsipsippin: ill bite

Sipsipsippin: logan?

Hotleg:....

Hotleg: id say ew, but,,,im not entirely agnst that, ,,, i

Hotleg: nope no, it is not infact logan

Sipsipsippin: FUCK i owe pat a five

Hotleg:????betrayl??????in my sanctum????

Sipsipsippin: shh, i did not type that and you saw nothing

Sipsipsippin: gah give me a hint

Hotleg: hes,,,, good with his hands ;)

----

Remy slammed his hands down the table, “Roman you filthy animal tell me who it is.”

A few people nearby looked up, startled, but not entirely surprised. Patton still winced, pointedly looking at his book and pretending like he didn’t know these actual public disturbances but didn’t bother to move. Which is hard to do regardless, when one Roman has made your shoulder his home.

“Sorry can’t speak english,” Roman said, exaggerating his drawl. He picked off of the leftovers on Patton’s plate, avoiding the daggers being driven into him from behind Remy’s tinted frames.

“Patton, do you know?” Remy asked.

Patton frowned, “Know what?” He flipped a page.

“Our wittle Roman’s got a cwush.” Remy slid into a chair, grabbing a fry.

Patton tilted his head, giving Roman a smile, “A crush you say?”

“Shit.” Roman moved to scramble out of his seat, but Patton somehow managed to put down his book, and fit his arm snug around his waist, tugging him lightly back down.

“Pattonnnn,” He whined, “This is an abuse of my need for affection.”

“Poor baby boy,” Patton hummed, “So, about this crush.”

“C’mon Pat, it could just be a squish,”

“Ro, do you find all your squishies that attractive?” Remy said.

“I find all of my friends aesthetically pleasing, I love you all, lots. I would kill for all of you without hesitation.” Patton rested his chin on Roman’s head, “Did he talk about their hands?” he asked pointedly.

“He wrote poetry.”

“Not to romo,” Patton said, “but yeah it’s a Roman Crush™.”

“I just said how much I loved you guys and this is the betrayal I receive? I thought y’all were the Evagiline to my Ray- instead you’re the animation industry to my animators.”

“Bitch, you bugged me all last week about the same shit,” Remy shot back, lovingly, “Karma’s here, so tell me his name or I’m stealing your toenails and feeding them to your first born.” He sipped his drink, face victorious.

Mid gasp, Roman felt Patton’s grip around his waist tighten. He turned around curiously finding Patton’s attention no longer at the table.

Roman followed his line of sight, blinking, “Dmitri?”

“You have a crush on D--fuck,” Remy hissed, rubbing where Roman’s heel dug into his thigh.

“Sorry can’t hear you,” Roman gritted through his teeth, “--call again after the beep bi-Hi Dee!”

Patton leaned back in his chair, picking up his book again but had yet to remove his arm.

Dmitri shifted the tray in his hands, “Uh, hey,” he smiled, “Can I talk to you?” His hair was down today, the short bob barely falling past his shoulders, but his clothes were noticeably covered paint, yet frustratingly enough other than that, nothing seemed ruffled or half assed. All clean lines and angles.

“What about?” Roman’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah,” Remy chimed, waggling his eyebrows, “What abou-oW.”

Dmitri ignored that, “Can I talk to you,” He glanced at Patton, “Privately,” he emphasised, “I found some old art magazines and projects in the library storage room, Mrs. Ider said we can check it out.”

“Uh, okay,” Roman nodded dumbly. He hopped up, snagging a fry before he followed Dmitri.

Walking down the long stretch of hallway, Roman found himself checking his watch several times- something he hardly ever does. Yet, the uncomfortable silence lingered, with only Dmitri’s avoident gazes and the clicks of Roman’s boots to fill the silence.

Lucky for Roman, his tendency for avoidance was relatively short on supply.

“Did I do something wrong?” Roman forced himself not to wince at how needy he sounded.

Dmitri opened the door for him, blinking, “Of course--” his voice dropped to a a whisper as the entered, “Of course not, why do you say so?”

“You seem different?”

“We’ve hardly talked before, aside from text.” Dmitri reasoned, tone awfully similar to when Logan’s trying to justify consuming an entire jar of Crofters in one sitting.

“Dee,” Roman said, raising an eyebrow, “That’s true, but you’re hardly one to get… nervous,” he said, “I’ve heard enough stories from Virgil alone to know.”

Dee froze, neither smiling or frowning, “What… type of stories.” His cheeks were delightfully pinched pink. “Tell me what I did wrong and--” Roman switched on the light to the libraries storage room, hiding a wicked smile as he glanced back, “And I’ll tell you some of my favorites.”

“Just wonderful,” Dmitri muttered, stepping inside as well, “But truthfully you did nothing wrong, I just don’t quite know how to do apologies.”

“Same,” Roman said, “Where are the ‘zines?” he distractedly asked, dragging the step ladder from behind the door.

“Back, left shelf,” Dmitri replied. He steadied the step ladder as Roman climbed up searching the dusty shelves. “What were you trying to not apologize for?” Roman asked, dropping magazines to the floor beside him.

“The...flirting?”

“Oh just the flirting?” he paused, holding a magazine to his chest, “Oh.” he repeated, now breathless. Dmitri looked way, ”Yeah, it didn’t mean anything, sorry,” he said, “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, I swear I’m usually only a little sleazy.”

“So,” Roman dropped the next magazine, ”It was a joke.” He said a bit quieter, the magazine slapped the ground with more force.

“So is everything cool or…?”

“Uh,” Roman breathed in, blinking rapidly, “Uh, yeah it's all-- Wait, did you say boyfriend?”

“Yes...Is he not?”

“Who, who would--Oh. Oh, No, Patton isn’t--” Roman’s shoulders sagged, “We’re just friends.”

Roman stepped down from the ladder and was met with Dmitri’s look of skepticism.

“Oh, then I meant every word.” Dmitri said, all too casually, “Are you always so touchy with your friends?” he questioned, voice softer.

“Only if they want to.” Roman shrugged, “What do you and your friends do?”

“I don’t have… that many,” Dmitri admitted with a shrug of his own, the two of them hefting up their own pile of magazines, “And the ones I do would probably punch me if I tried anything like that.”

“Do you want to be able to do that?” Roman questioned, tugging open the door with ease, holding it open for Dmitri with his back. Dmitri was quiet, the two settling the stacks onto a table.

“Hey you don’t have to answer it’s really no pressu--”

“No it's fine,” Dmitri said, hugging his arms, “I’d… think I would, but I doubt any of my friends would want to…” His nose curled, “They’d tell me to piss off and get a girlfriend,”

“Well,” Roman said, “I’m your friend, and I’m certainly not going to promote the heterosexual agenda, unless that’s your thing, so I guess the awful duty of cuddles befalls on me,” He winked.

Dmitri looked at him again, “...I guess it does.”

Ao3

[toreadorwriter]

What happens in the dark ch 6

A blood hunt had been called on Marie, causing the Nosferatu to flee the city.  Prince William had heard through the other Nosferatu about what had happened. A rather nosy and money hungry fledgling was more than happy to tell the prince and subsequently gain status within the Camarilla.  William also got the news that the hitman's ashes were found in a filthy stained alley way which delighted the prince but the cause of death was still unknown to everyone else. 

There was a knock at the door, and  the ventrue redirected his attention from the view outside the window. His Sheriff ushered the newcomers into the office, it was the Baron and Baroness of Hollywood, again. Two times this week,  this is getting ridiculous. The prince pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the impending headache. 

It was at this moment that Prince William was aware of a subtle change in Jewel’s aura. Was she pregnant? He was confident the child was not just a human after all. The offspring of a vampire and a human is rare but disgusting occurrence frowned upon by kindred society. What the Baron did in his free time was none of his business, but he did hope the child of such a union wouldn't survive.

Giving them a fake smile, the Prince noticed that Jewel was wearing a shimmery green backless dress with a silver belt that was way too ostentatious for his taste,  obviously meant to hide the baby bump. She was also wearing shimmering gloves to match with her outfit and her hair was put into a messy bun and held together with a silver stash. He hated to admit it, but she looked absolutely astonishing with her green eyeshadow that made her eyes stand out. The ghoul smirked at him as if reading him.  He must say he did see why Isaac liked her. Ms. Balewa signed at him in warning. He had been caught staring, hopefully the others didn't notice.

Isaac noticed. 

''Are you done ogling my fiancee? If so let's please proceed to the theatre."

William almost punched him then and there but he controlled himself clearing his throat. He was better than the Brujah after all. 

The tension in the elevator down to the lobby was enough to give the air a taste. 

An hour later, the group was at the theatre and greeted by the Counsel of Primogen, and a few straggling kindred and other associated members of the undead society were in the background. Jewel noticed that both Anarchs and Camarilla were in attendance, and hoped that the Sabbat decided to skip this event too.

The crowd swarmed them like flies to honey and started asking all sorts of questions and chattering amongst themselves. Ms. Balewa stared them down and cleared a path so Prince William could enter the theater, with Isaac and Jewel scrambling to keep up. 

Walking onstage, Prince William cleared his throat. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the theater.

''Hello everyone, I apologize for dragging all of you out here tonight. I know a lot of you are all busy but tonight is a special one. I would like to announce that Ms. Jewel Abrams is now Baroness of Hollywood. I know the Anarchs are separate from the Camarilla and are often at odds, but -”

Willam was cut off by an uproar. 

“WHAT THE FUCK” was shouted from the back, probably from one of the Last Round gang. 

This was also the first time Strauss had an expression on his face, and it was one of disgust. 

 Therese raised a gloved hand and the crowd went silent again. '' Isaac, why her? She's not even a Vampire and she's only 24 That's way too young for a Baroness! She shouldn’t even be here!”

“I think we have more pressing issues at the moment other than this  kindred’s affairs with the kine. As long as she does not break the Masquerade any more than her existence does, who cares? We should focus on why was a Lasombra in Los Angeles and a LA kindred ordering hits on others! There are not enough of us to hold off the Second Inquisition as it is. “ Nines added to the din in the theater. 

Gary was being his usual self in the back, although the anger about how Isaac scored his next target as his ghoul started to show on his twisted face. He slunk down farther into the shadows. 

The voices began to rise again in anger and confusion and disgust before Ms. Balewa picked up her walking stick, which disguised a huge club and smashed it hard on the ground. The sound echoed like a shot.

''Please try to behave yourselves." The prince said pointedly and everyone fell silent again. He cleared his throat. “Having a ghoul working as a Baroness may be exactly what we need in order to protect this city and keep it moving during the daytime, and to be the hidden face of kindred to mortal society. I expect you all to assist Baroness Jewel in her endeavors.”

Jewel’s face drained. The prince just turned her new position as Isaac’s wife into something way larger than any of them anticipated. 

There was applause from the audience, and Jewel did not need any supernatural powers to tell that most of the enthusiasm was not genuine. Jewel felt her social anxiety kicking in, so many people were staring or glaring at her and she felt sick to her stomach.

She decided the best course of action was to wave and nod to acknowledge the prince and immediately turned and grabbed Romero’s hand and bolted out of the room. 

Alysa was waiting in the hallway with an orange rose, a granola bar, and Jane and Seregi.

Jewel ran into the brick wall who currently goes by Seregi. 

''Oops, sorry daughter." Sergei chirped happily before scooping her up and twirling her around. The door slammed and Lorenzo walked through the door. 

''Sir,  please put the baroness down!” Lorenzo warned and the Tziscme rolled his eyes.

''Don't worry I'm her father how about you put that gun down son."

“My father is telling the truth, please put the guns down.”

And that put Lorenzo at ease. ''Alrighty, if you need any help don't be afraid to call us. Baroness.” A pointed glare later at the ghoul, and they returned to the auditorium.

“Can we leave now? Camarilla affairs are always so dull. Aren’t you hungry?” Jane asked Jewel, who texted Isaac and Romero it was time to leave.

There were more than a few stares when Jewel left the building, followed by strange and familiar vampires alike. 

Jewel ignored them and clambered in with her future husbands. Alysa,Anatole, Mercurio and Susi were already waiting in the limo. How did Alysa travel so fast?

 ''how did you guys?." but before she could finish what she was saying ,Susi nervously handed her the invite that her parents had sent them.

 Seregi reached out and touched Suzi’s hand. “I know how you and the rest of the world feels about my Clan, but I promise you we are just as normal as the rest of you. I just wanted to meet the people who so warmly welcomed my daughter into their home.” He then brushed his greying hair out of his eyes and reclined back in his chair.

Tensions were still high amongst the passengers of the limo, so Alysa and Anatole used their powers to help everyone relax. The unnamed driver was thankful for that, he was starting to get nervous.

The limo rolled into a driveway connecting to a house on the outer edge of LA. The estate was huge, with poisonous and spooky looking plants decorating the gardens and alongside the driveway. Mercurio and Susi started to get nervous. Holding his girlfriend's hand, Mercurio squeezed her hand gently ''Everything will be alright, this is all for Jewel." he whispered to Susi, but then again why was he doing this for Jewel? It's not that he had anything against her, it was just the necromancer felt so distant to him. He tolerated her because she's his girlfriend's friend, but he never actually had the time to sit down and get to know her.

 Seeing as that they literally had no choice  but to walk into the creepy ass Addams family wannabe mansion, he hoped he would live long enough to actually get to know her and not end up as a new piece of furniture. No matter what Seregi said in the Limo, he still didn't trust the fiend. 

The limo mercifully stopped moving and everyone left the vehicle. 

For all appearances, Jane looked every bit the charming and not at all threatening hostess.

''Welcome to our lovely home! I bet you guys are just dying to see what's inside!." The Tziscme cheerfully invited everyone inside and began to follow the cobblestone path to the doorway.

Alysa turned around and pointed at Romero. “I heard your thoughts, that was a figure of speech. You will be fine.” she then turned around and followed Jane inside.

The inside was beautiful, it was gothic and very neat. Blood Red furniture was placed in the living room and rare macabre decor littered the walls, interspersed with framed family photos. It was an eclectic sight, but it worked. 

Jewel groaned from embarrassment.

'' Mom, Dad, why did you stick that picture up in the foyer, I look hideous!” Jewel whined and Sergei looked at her in utter complete shock.

 ''I love your prom photos, you look like a princess in your pink dress." he defended but Jewel begged to differ.

''Dad, I had acne! And what is up with that eyeliner I look like I should be in an emo band. Ugh blue eyeshadow too." she said and her old man shook his head 

''You were a teenage human, they all have acne. Regardless of how you feel, I think you are beautiful. Besides this is my favorite picture and look how happy you are in it anyhow." Seregi then leaned over and hugged Jewel and kissed her forehead, much to her embarrassment and everyone else’s amusement. 

Suddenly, the meows of an unknown cat filled the room and out popped Jewel's childhood pet cat, Cinnamon and Spice. The two headed cat walked up to Jewel and happily jumped into her arms purring loudly. 

“What the hell is that?" Romero shouted.  He thought to himself “What did those fiends do to that cat?”

''Romero shut it,  don't be rude” Susi muttered and Isaac had to give both his ghouls a warning look. 

“Behave.”  he pointedly whispered and that set them both straight. 

“Awww you guys, don't be afraid of the cats, it's not their fault they were left for dead. I had to fuse them together to save their lives. But, I promise they are normal cats." Sergei said taking the cats from his daughter. The cat liked its paw before using Seregi as a launchpad and bounded off to God knows where.

The door opened and the cat exited the room. The door kept opening to reveal a rather large man in a butler outfit. His soulless eyes stared at them glassy and fish like, and what was left of his blonde hair was combed to the side. 

'' Oh Jeffrey thank Cain you are here, is dinner ready yet?" Jane asked and the Butler smiled widely, revealing rows of yellow razor sharp. How many teeth do humans have again? This man had an exceptional amount of them.

 "Why Madame, yes absolutely, your father Andrei has commanded me to let you and our guests know."  He said casually before bowing. He rose and said joyfully “ Ms. Jewel, it's nice to see you. You've blossomed into such a beautiful young woman. I am honoured you've returned back home." 

“It is nice to see you again too, Jeffrey it's been way too long." The baroness replied politely.

 The grotesque butler smiled before leading them to a huge plush and expensive looking dining room.  Two was there with Andrei and Two waved hi to his friends and roommates. ''Wow, I didn't think you'd all come, It's nice to see everyone." He said picking his nails and avoiding eye contact. While Jeffrey and some war form Tzimisce fledgelings placed tons of food for the vampires and humans on the table.

Andrei smiled at Jewel and she couldn't even react in time before he swept her up excitedly. 

''Hey, Grandpa, not so rough I'm….” But jewel couldn't finish her sentence because Andrei cut her off with the hug.

 ''Come sit, let's eat, we will discuss what's wrong during dinner." He chirped placing her down.

 Jewel hoped the baby was fine after all that. 

Everyone gasped in amazement seeing all the delicious and bountiful food on the table there was a normal human Thanksgiving-style feast: honey glazed ham, yams, mac and cheese,stuffing,turkey, and tons of desserts. Drinks of all sorts were also provided for the humans in the room. Jewel tsked her lips, she would definitely have to steer clear from the alcohol while she was pregnant. Should be fun to explain that one in a few minutes. 

Issac pulled the seat out for her and she smiled at him ''Thank you, love." She said thoughtfully smoothing her dress down while she sat down. The hosts’ fledgelings served everyone their food and that's when Sergei got straight to the point.

''Jewel, we've gathered everyone here today because of what happened. The hitman has been killed and we don't know why.” he lied knowing damn well he did it and had to stop himself from giggling .

“Marie has been the one who sent him unfortunately. I heard she has a blood hunt called on her head and has fled the city."

 He told her and Jewel wasn't shocked just disappointed. She did not look at the others in the room to see their reactions. 

Jane picked up where Seregi left off. “ It is a little odd that she was living with you in the first place, but the issue has been solved and we can  move forward in safety now. I’m sure if we all work together, we can keep more threats at bay and stop them before they take action.” 

Jewel sighed, twirling her food around on her plate. She decided it was time to let them know.

 ''Mom, Dad, Grandpa there's something I have to tell you all that might make you reconsider that the threats are gone." She confessed and Isaac intertwined her hands with hers.

 ''I'm pregnant, you’re going to be Grandparents."

Sergei, who was busy downing a glass of blood suddenly choked and sputtered. Jeffrey pat his back while Jane stood up excitedly shaking her sire ''Oh my God, did you hear that , Father there's going to be a baby! A human baby! I get to hold a baby again!” She squealed excitedly.

Andrei was so excited that he literally almost pulled Romero over the table in a hug. ''This is a very joyous time, we we must celebrate!" he said ecstatically. Romero was less than happy at being anywhere near this house and even more so being hugged by the Archbishop of the Sabbat, but he was relieved the news was received well by the family. 

Andrei stood up after releasing Romero and began a toast. “To the baby!” before sitting back down and letting the dinner begin. 

 During dinner Romero couldn't stop feeling nervous he ate a good amount of food, but still this was a Sabbat household! And he was engaged to the daughter of a Sabbat vampire ,but they were nice and hopefully it stayed that way.

 Romero happened to catch a glance of Jane's necklace and his face went pale. Inside the pendant was a bunch of sharpened baby teeth encased in a gem and he hoped that they didn't kill a child for that jewelry. 

Upon noticing him staring, Jane smiled sweetly at him.

"Honey, not to worry. These are Jewel's baby teeth, we don't kill children." She assured him.

That was a relief but still creepy as fuck regardless. Romero gave Jane a quick nod before distracting himself with a German chocolate cake.  The other humans were busily chomping away at it. Romero cut a piece and placed it on his plate and caught something moving out of the corner of his eye. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Andrei suddenly reached out to him.

''Oh God, oh shit he's going to turn me isn't he?" He thought to himself and that's when he saw Andrei holding a tub of vanilla ice cream.

 "Do you want some of this or not?" The vampire asked and Romero sat there in horror

"Oh, um, yes." he sputtered and the Tziscme elder covered the cake in some ice cream. Romero never imagined that that he would ever associate with the flesh crafters, much less be fed perfectly normal human food by them. Besides, before he met Jewel, he was actively at war against them.

 He looked around the dining room awkwardly at his new extended family. 

God, tonight was one hell of a night for all of them.

To be continued...

[storytimefromthecreed]

Witness Protection

“Rafi, you’re being over protective.” She complained, but he wasn’t listening. He ususally did this when his mind was already made up. 

“You’re still new to the city, mija. New York has changed since you’ve left.” She watched helplessly as he picked up his phone and began to dial. “I’m getting you an escort out of the building until this case is over, or at the very least until you know how to get around here on your own. Dinner tonight?"

“You’re not giving me much choice.”

Rafael smirked up at her. “Not tonight. Go. The world needs you to save puppies or whatever it is that you do.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I love you too. What is going on with my phone? I swear to god, for how much this office leaks you’d think we’d be able to get some decent reception in here.” 

A light knock on the door distrubed their conversation, and Carmen ducked her head in. All smiles, she alerted him that some detectives were here.

“Bring them in.” He said, and a petite blonde woman and a tall gentlemen entered. 

“You’re busy.” (Y/N) said, “I’ll see myself out.”

“No.” Raphael said sternly. The detectives walked in ,and both her and Raphael turned to face them. A smile grew on his face. “(Y/N), meet Detective Rollins and Detective Carisi. Detectives, my friend (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, call me Sonny. Everyone does.” The taller man took her hand and shook it firmly.

"Trust me, no one does." The woman extended a hand to her and smiled kindly. “Please, call me Amanda. It’s nice to meet one of the Counselor's friends. Are you an ADA too?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not as quick with my words as Raf is. I'm a veterinarian."

"Puppies. That's a pretty sweet gig." Sonny chimed in.

“Carisi," Raphael cut in."I hate to ask anything of you, but can you walk (Y/N) out?”

"Of course, Counselor." Sonny nodded and walked (Y/N) to the door, opened it for her, and followed her outside.

Once in the hallway, the collective sound of there foot falls echoing, she said, "You really don't have to do this, you know."

"Well, I wouldn't want to get on the bad side of the ADA." He joked with a heavily sarcastic tone.

"I could lie and say you did it anyway." She countered. The response made him quirk his brows and smirk.

"You could," He grew serious. "But you're a friend of Barba, that makes you a target for whomever is after him, and I have a feeling he would kill me if anything happened to you." (Y/N) chewed on her lips as she knew this was true. Raf was looking out for her, as he always did.

Moving to the city was his idea after the incident, and he had even helped with finding the perfect hospital and apartment for her. He helped her move and he was a shoulder to lean on during the strain of it all. She was lucky to have him.

"He means well." The detective said as the elevator doors opened and he followed her in. "I don't mean to pry, but you must be pretty important to get this reaction from him. I've never seen Barba look...worried before."

"He's my best friend. We've known each other since we were five." (Y/N) explained."You're right. I shouldn't be so hard on him.” Sonny smiled and the elevator dinged. The doors opened and a flood of people filled the elevator as Sonny and her exited. He kept close to her side and eyed the crowd. "Has it really been that bad?"

Sonny led her down the cement stairs and onto the sidewalk. Deep in thought, choosing the right words, he finally said, "We want to be careful. It happens that in this case it is."

"Thanks for looking out for him."

"He's part of the team."

......

Her coworkers said this bar was the best in the city when they wanted a quiet night. The rustle and bustle of the city died when they closed the door. The bar was warm and her drinks made her warmer. Laughter shook her frame and her friend hugged her deeply, thanking her for joining them.

"Here’s to the one year anniversary of (Y/N) joining our team. One year ago, you came to New York, and we’re so lucky to have you.”

“Please.” (Y/N) sipped her drink.

“First, she's smart! Second, she seriously saved my butt because I no longer have to do weekends alone," the woman, Summer, grinned. "And third, she got us this free round."

"I did what?" A shot was passed to her and she eyed it carefully.

The group laughed and raised a glass. Summer winked, "Apparently that blue eyed cutie at the bar thinks you need a shot." (Y/N)'s eyes wandered to the bar and found Sonny, smirking, and raising a glass.

“Trust me, he doesn’t think I’m cute. He’s a friend of Raf’s.”

“Does he need another friend?” Summer gave Sonny a sultry look, and (Y/N) huffed.

“Leave him alone, Summer. Trust me, he wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Where are you going?”

“To thank him.” Sonny’s eyes widened at her approach, but he didn’t turn away. “You shouldn’t have.” She leaned against the bar. “Seriously Sonny? Raf has you following me now too?” He opened his mouth, but she bull dozed him. “I know I’m not crazy. I’ve seen Fin, Nick, Amanda, even Liv around my neighborhood. At my gym, near my work, so don’t act like he didn’t ask you to watch me. I love you guys, I do, but seriously? I’m just trying to have fun. NYPD doesn’t need to be following me.”

Sonny gave her a queer look. Amused? When it was apparent she was saying nothing more, he smirked. “Barba didn’t send me. Trust me, I just wanted to say hi. Not interrupt your personal life.” (Y/N) chewed her cheek as she looked Sonny up and down. Sonny was dressed in a long, black tee and jeans. His brown hair was messy from his hand running though it. 

“I would’ve said hey, but you and your friends looked like you were busy.” Sonny explained. “I said hi, now go back to having fun.”

(Y/N) grasped the bridge of her nose and sighed. “No. I was being an ass. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sonny laughed. “I understand.”

“Nope, you’re not off the hook, Dom.” She knew how much he hated when she used his actual name. “Come join us.” He looked unsure. “For my sake.”

Sonny looked past her and to her group of friends before returning his eyes to her. She pretended not to notice that he looked her up and down before answering, “Girls’ night wouldn’t be girls’ night if I was there.”

“We could use a cute guy in the group. It’ll be fun.” She looked at the bartended and pointed at her shot. “At the very least, take this shot with me. Espunge me of my guilt for yelling at you.”

Sonny looked at her and then the shot being slid over to him. She took his hand and pushed the shot into it. The way she smiled, he could never say no to her when she did that.

“Fine. One shot. That’s it.”

......

“Listen, Summer, if a guy wants- wants- wanted- you attention, then he’d work fo’ it.” Sonny was wearing one of her old tees which a superhero on them and sweats that were too small on him and cut off at his calves. The group was in various states of undress. Hair was let down, make up was smudged off, and tacos were in everyone’s laps. “All I’m sayin’,” Sonny continued, “Is that girls ‘ave to together compared to guys. We don’t know nothing. Remember that and remember that if a guy doesn’t know that,” he rolled his eyes. “Then he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Sonny, why haven’t you been out with us before!” Lisa giggled, Sonya clung to her arm.

“We have to do this again.” Sonya chimed in. “But we need to go.”

“You two are sleeping over, right?” Summer giggled, just as drunk and loud as Lisa. 

Sonya, ever the voice of reason, agreed. “Hand me the keys. I’m driving.”

“Here. Let me walk you out.” (Y/N) walked them to the door. “Text me when you guys get home.” 

“Sure thing, babe. Have a good night.” Sonya said. The door closed and girls’ night was over. 

“Sonny, you’re taking the guest room. I’m not letting you drive home like-” (Y/N) walked into the living room and found Sonny tipped over on the cough, snoring. His legs dangled off, and she knew his legs would hate him in the morning. “Dominick, you so owe me.” 

......

Sonny’s awoke in a strange room, wearing no pants, and dazed. Bright sunlight blinded him, and Sonny scanned the room. This wasn’t his house. In fact, he’d never been here before. His head pounded and his vision was fuzzy. God, what did he do last night? Confusion and curiousity drove him stumbling out of the room and into a living area. Yhep, he was never hear before.

“Hey, look who’s awake-Sonny! Where are your pants?!” 

Sonny jumped, his head snapped to where the voice came from, and then he saw her. (Y/N) was covering her eyes in the kitchen. The smell of coffee and bacon wafted to his nose, and Sonny looked down to see he was only in his boxers. 

“I- I don’t-” 

“Dominick! Go get your pants!” 

Sonny, blushing deep red that he could feel the heat of it on his cheeks, rushed back into the guest room. On the far side of the room were sweats balled up like someone threw them against the wall. His jeans and long sleeve were on the floor. Who’s clothes was he wearing?

Sonny re-emerged from the room, dressed, embarrassed, and found (Y/N) still facing away from him. “I found my pants.” He said, and she slowly urned to face him. Seeing he was in deed wearing pants, she relaxed. “Um, did we...?”

“Oh god no.” She said, “Not in a bad way. Not that I don’t- you know what, nothing. Nothing happened. We just had a bit too much to drink and I gave you my spare room. How are you feeling? You were extra fun last night.”

“I feel like I was.” Sonny grabbed his still pounding head. (Y/N) handed him some Advil and water, which he took gratefully. “You made breakfast?”

“I’m full of surprises.” (Y/N) grinned and slid bacon over to him with some toast and a side of fruit. “Eat. It’s the least I could do since making you drink so much and yelling at you.”

“You didn’t force me.” Sonny began, and munched. The food hit his stomach and instantly tended to it. Pain allievated, and he felt much better. “I’m a grown man, you didn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want to.” She smiled at his kind words, and he liked that he allowed her not to feel less guilty. “Thanks for bringing me along for girls’ night. I really did have a good time.” He grew serious. “(Y/N), I do need to confess to you.” He took a deep breath. “Barba didn’t send me to look after you. I wanted to do that. On my own.” His blue eyes flickered between her and his breakfast. 

“Raf told you.”

“About the case, what you saw, yeah.” Sonny confessed. The words flooded out having been pent up for months. “Barba didn’t ask me to look out for you, I wanted to do that on my own because I care about you. You’ve become a good friend to me and I like to make sure you’re ok. The trial is coming up and that’s usually when things starting going sideways, and,” Sonny rambled and (Y/N)’s heart grew warm. Watching this man explain what she already knew was entertaining and cute because she knew what he wanted to say. She wanted to say the same things.

(Y/N) slid her hand across the counter and rested it on his. Sonny stopped talking. “I understand why you were doing what you were doing, and it means a lot that you care about me. The trial, the case, everything has been really hard and scary, and I like that you’ve been looking out. That means a lot.”

He clasped her hand, long fingers intertwinning with hers. “Good. I got your back.”

Suddenly the stress of it all grew light, and for the first time in that year, she knew she would be ok.

[outlanderfandomproject]

Barks and Glances

Fic collab by @kkruml​, @smoakingwaffles​ and @whiskynottea 

Hey guys, @whiskynottea  Pongo here, bringing you the fourth chapter of Barks and Glances! Woof (enjoy)!

Previously Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

poster by @smoakingwaffles

Chapter 4. A home for four (by @whiskynottea)

(Ahhh let me stretch for a while… I've spent the last thirty minutes sitting by the window with my beautiful Perdita, looking at the passers-by. But a dog has to move once in a while, you know.

Okay, I’m ready to start now.)

Hey guys! It’s Pongo again!

Did you miss me?

Oh, come on, confess it. You did miss me.

It’s okay, you know, because I missed you, too!

I have so many news to share with you, that you better sink into a couch and make yourself a cuppa. Is this what you humans call it? I think so.

Coffee, tea, or a whisky - drink whatever you like. I would personally go with milk, in case you have some to spare.

Ready?

Okay, let me take this from the very beginning…

After my ingenious idea to drag Jamie to the park earlier than usual so he would meet Claire, these two goobers couldn’t take their eyes off each other.

And let me tell you all it took me was a minute (okay maybe two) to charm my beautiful Perdita. She couldn’t resist to this adorable, wet, chocolate lab, you see.

Anyway.

Jamie brought Claire and Perdy back to our house - which was a world’s first - and he made Claire tea while she waited for her clothes to dry. The clothes never dried, however, so both lasses left our place with the promise to meet again. Maybe my charm - and Jamie’s - played a role on this decision as well, but the clothes were the perfect excuse.

And now, between you and me, I have to admit that I hadn’t thought of getting them all wet in the pond beforehand. But it turned out pretty well, don’t you think?

Jamie started whistling the day he met Claire. I’ve never heard such a sound before, but his tuneless, poor imitation of a birdsong didn’t seem to dishearten him. Next thing, he got obsessed with his phone. He never let it far from his gaze and he texted like a maniac. As a result, he had banged his toes onto every furniture in our house, waking me up more than once with his boisterous shouts and swears. The man has a loud voice! The same voice, however, transformed into a smooth, deep and low one when Jamie was on the phone with Claire. It was the first time I heard him murmuring sweet nothings to the wee machine, with his cheeks and neck blooming red.

My ginger human was very much in love with Perdy’s curly one, and luckily the Sassenach, as he called her, returned his feelings.

After that first day, I met my beautiful blondie every day at the park. Our walk schedule became irregular after meeting them, and if it wasn’t for Perdy I would protest, barking loudly to wake everybody up when Jamie woke me up at six o’clock in the morning to go for a walk.

More than once.

Claire and Perdy, you see, didn’t have standard hours for their walks because of Claire’s shifts and we - lovesick puppies as we were - just followed their schedule.

It took approximately one month of sleepy walks for Jamie to realize that Claire was the human of his life and that there was no reason to wait anymore. The truth was loud and clear from the very beginning; she was his and he was hers. So he decided to put a collar on her. Humans don’t wear their collars on the neck - the choose tiny ones and they wear them on their fingers. They are strange creatures, indeed.  

In front of the same pond I bound them together that first day, Jamie proposed to her. Claire said yes, jumping on him and taking him off guard, only to end up in the pond once again. This time though, they were kissing.

And kissing.

And kissing.

And I honestly thought we would never go home.

But, eventually, they stopped.

So we had a wedding.

The bride was the most beautiful lass I’ve ever seen. Her golden fur was shining under the sun, each hair glittering like it was made from little diamonds and -

Wait, what? You’re more interested in Claire?

Perdy was wonderful but since you insist… Claire looked nice, too. Okay, I’m lying. You got me!

Claire was captivating.

She wore a simple white dress and had tiny flowers pinned in her hair. Don’t ask me for more details, I’m just a dog, I don’t care about fashion. But I think it was a miracle that Jamie’s eyes didn’t pop out and fall on the floor, being so wide open when he first saw her. One would imagine that he was staring at a gigantic stake or a bucket of pasta, but no. It was just Claire.

At this moment I thought that Claire might be a fairy - and Jamie was enchanted by her. Judging from the foolish way he smiled as she was coming closer, he was absolutely fine with it.

And like this, two lonely bachelors became two family men - okay a man and a dog - starting their new lives.

Everything changed from the moment Perdy and Claire moved to our house.

Remember what I told you about Jamie’s paints and drawings, strewn all around our living room? Well, you can forget that now. Jamie has moved all his stuff in the attic, where he spends almost all day, preparing for his exhibition. With every passing day, Jamie becomes even more anxious about it. The drumming of his fingers against his thigh almost never stops, unless Claire takes his fingers in hers and kisses him softly. She does her magic then, I’m sure, because Jamie smiles again, looking peaceful and relaxed. With renewed vigor, he heads back to the attic.

This is exactly where he is right now.

Claire came back home about an hour ago and now I can hear her in the kitchen, humming along with the cabinets’ opening and closing, as she prepares tea. She is filling the kettle with water and now… yes. She’s going to the attic to bring Jamie down. Good, because we always get to play when it’s tea time!

Apart from the days when he comes. He calls Jamie’s name with an accent similar to Claire’s, but his voice is slimy, dripping and disgusting.

The Duke of Sandringham.

He has an air of superiority around him, wearing his expensive clothes and having his own driver waiting outside our house for as long as each visit lasts. He walks around our small house, fidgeting with our things and all I want to do is to bark his ears off until he vanishes completely from our lives. But I try my best and keep myself under control. Being a good boy is so hard.

The Duke always comes around tea time, orders Claire to make his tea as if she’s working for him, and once the tea is ready he goes straight up to the attic to find Jamie. They close the door and he values Jamie’s art while Claire digs a trail on the carpet with her feet, waiting. I know she’d swear if she could, but Jamie asked from all of us to be patient. He says the Duke is just weird.

I think he is an arsehole.

There is something evil in this man, and I can see it clearly when Jamie accompanies him downstairs after they’ve finished the inspection. He’s usually praising Jamie for his masterful, inspiring artwork as he descends the stairs, talking about a fabulous exhibition to come, but he has a strange glint in his eye that I don’t like. I can sense that he’s hiding the truth and Perdy agrees with me. Women have better intuition anyway, and I trust her. And I’m sure that Claire hates the way the Duke kisses her hand every time before heading to the door.

But Jamie… Oh, Jamie lives in a parallel universe. He says the Duke might be eccentric but is his agent and that he trusts him. Jamie insists that these visits are necessary, to make sure that the exhibition will be successful. And while he says all that, his fingers keep drumming against his thigh, his lips just a thin line.

My ginger is anxious and scared. He is more afraid than what he shows. One night that I heard noises coming from the attic, I went there to find Jamie sitting in the darkness, in the corner of the room. In my rush to ran towards him, I bumped head-first onto a painting and felt the fresh paint coloring my nose. That was disgusting, I’m telling you! Whining, I finally reached Jamie and lay next to him and with my head on his lap. I was sleepy, but I couldn't leave my human alone. We stayed awake until the first morning light, when Claire came back home and took us to bed.

Claire had her hair in a messy bun that day. Now, as she’s coming back into the living room, her curls fly free all around her face, framing her beautiful smile. She comes towards us, patting my head and scratching Perdy’s ear and I let a content woof as I snuggle closer to Perdita.

Ahh, love. It feels so good.

“Jamie, tea will be ready in five minutes!” Claire is saying as she moves up the stairs, before she opens the attic door gently. “Love?”

“Aye, Sassenach. I’m coming.” As Claire turns to leave, a stray sun beam colors her brown hair a beautiful auburn. “Mo nighean donn,” Jamie whispers, and his voice is barely audible, (but I’m a dog and as you know I can hear much better than you). Jamie always sees colors around him, waiting to be touched by his brushes, but nothing entrances him more than Claire. He raises from his stool and goes to meet her at the door, taking her in his arms while he kisses her lips.

I don’t think we’ll have tea any time soon.

“Jamie,” she says softly. “The kettle…”

“The kettle can wait, Sassenach. Everything else can wait.”

The attic’s door closes softly, hiding them from us and the world.

I don’t hear any nervous drumming of fingers behind that door anymore. All I can hear is two drumming hearts, and that makes me feel that everything is going to be alright.