#Jen - arguing with someone over something that she knows she’s right about.

[draco-glacialis]

Billy: If you got arrested what would be the charges?

Lilia: Theft.

Jen: Disturbing the peace.

Rio: Aggravated assault.

Alice: Arson.

Agatha: All of the above. In that order, probably.

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3

Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6

Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9

Chapter 10. - Chapter 11. - Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Word Count: 1392

Chapter 13

Your screams echoed across the clearing as you all turned to face the grave, wondering if perhaps something went wrong and a zombie Sharon was about to come for revenge.

A second hand appeared, and slowly, someone crawled their way out of the grave.

By instinct alone, Alice moved and hugged Lilia close. At the same time, Jen grabbed Teen's upper arm.

To your surprise, momentarily, for you were too focused on the crawling from the grave person; Agatha spread her hands and pushed both you and Teen behind.

A funny concept, considering you were the only one with true powers to protect the coven.

At last, after that felt like an eternity for everyone; this mysterious person managed to crawl fully out.

Getting up slowly, mud and dead lives stuck to their skin, but quickly, everyone got a good glimpse of a face.

A woman with both an attractive but also dangerous looks pushed her hair out of her face, going as far as to blow a sticky muddy strand away from her pink lips.

"Heard you guys were having a party." The woman said.

You could not help but end up staring in surprise, not because of the dramatic entrance but rather... because that person was familiar to you.

As memories were unlocked in your mind, you almost missed the moment where this newcomer extended her hand and offered a flower to Agatha.

"Surprise. My lady." She said, doing her best to sound mannered.

To the surprise of the coven, Agatha started to scream from frustration, and she even tried to claw at the new Witch.

Thankfully, Jen and Alice grabbed and held her back.

"We just summoned her."

"We need her."

In the end, Agatha freed herself from their grasp and merely started to walk down the road; leaving you all behind.

Teen was the first to rush after her, remembering the witch from the time she attacked Agatha, and he was locked in the closet.

The woman looked at all of four of you, her dark eyes resting on your tense form a little longer.

"What's up? I'm Rio." She introduced herself, not even commenting on the fact that she crawled out of a grave.

You watched as she cracked her neck once.

"So, you're a Green Witch?" Jen dared to ask, having gotten over the first shock.

"Um... Less "a" Green Witch... more" Rio suddenly changed her voice in a demonic one. "The" Green Witch." And just like that, she continued like normal. "We're supposed to walk this thing, right?"

Alice, Lilia and Jen almost jumped back at the sudden voice change; with the potions witch almost hiding behind you at the unexpected change.

You were the only one that did not react to the trick, your body tense, and your gaze locked on Rio; yet uttering no word.

You could only watch as Rio started to do a little skip walk as she followed after Agatha and Teen, already lost in her own little world.

"So, what do we think? Can we trust her?" Jen asked and looked at the witches left behind with her.

"We know nothing about her." Alice argued, earning a nod from Lilia.

"We know Agatha hates her. I'd say that goes in the pro column." Jen chuckled on her own. "Honestly, I don't know how to feel. Do I hate her? Or do I want her phone number?"

Alice nodded. "Same."

"Right?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, surprising your fellow witches and started to walk after Rio; confusing them and leaving them behind to exchange looks of uncertainty.

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

Unlike before, you did not all walk together.

Agatha was leading, and this time, Rio seemed to be close by. More than once, you would see her trying to annoy Agatha by entering her personal space or sending her different looks, only frustrating your lover even more.

Teen followed close behind while Jen, Lilia, Alice, and you had kept distance and followed last; making sure not to lose the others.

All this time, you had been quiet, silently glaring and narrowing your eyes at Rio; who seemed to have sense it cause you swore you caught her smirking from time to time.

You knew Rio, not as well as Agatha, but you had met before; a couple of times, spend time together as well. You did not mind that she was present but rather... the fact that she was trying to be close to Agatha.

You dug up your mind, trying to remember any memories of Agatha mentioning her, but you found none. That did not mean you did not suspect why it was never brought up.

Something deep within your guts was clawing to come out, Rio's presence agitating your magic and making it react. It was always like that, since your very first meeting but now you could not help and wonder...

Was this just because of Rio's questionable 'nature' or were you simply jealous.

It was evident that Rio and Agatha shared a past and the tension between them was not common. You were not stupid, you could see it but you still hated it.

Ironic because you had often talked to yourself about it, knowing Agatha could be with anyone the times she was away; having no need to be loyal to you.

After all, it was never clarified between the two of you what kind of relationship you had. Simple lovers? Something more?

You wondered that yourself.

Someone cleared their throat by your side and you glanced at them, realizing it was Jen who was suddenly walking little too close to you.

"So..." she started. "You went down the road before, with Agatha"

"I did" you replied, staring daggers at the two witches ahead.

"That means you know Agatha, I mean... more than us, me... you got the point. " she tried to save it, yet the message was clear to you.

"I do..." You answered, repeating the same two words again. You could feel she wished to know more, and you could feel the others looking at you, equally curious. "Almost all my life," you sighed. "We went down the Road the first time, eventually our paths separated shortly after"

You chose not to tell of the fact that the two of you had met countless times over the centuries, of how it was common for Agatha to just show up to your doorstep and you would always let her in.

You did not say of any of the other adventures you two had, even before the Road. You did not say of the sweet moments you two shared, igniting all sparkles and releasing your Darkest and most sinful desires with one another; having no shame of your preferences.

"Was she always... you know... this?" Alice asked next, preventing you from getting lost down the memory lane.

You allowed your gaze towards Agatha, who, based on the stiffness of her shoulders; was not enjoying this.

"Sort of... sometimes" you replied vaguely, unsure how much you wished to expose to the others; when you didn't even know them.

"Then why did you join the road?"

It was evident that Alice was using her police training, connecting dots, and asking the right questions.

If you were on the road before and you had no true "attachment" to Agatha, why risk your life once again? Why join this death-filled path when you clearly must have gained something since you made it to the end the first time.

You took longer to reply, and she picked it up.

"Unfinished business, that's all I will say." Without another word, you increased your pace and made it clear to the others that you would not be discussing anything else.

They simply watched you go, exchanging looks and trying to decide what they thought of you.

They did not know your name, your powers, or even affinity. They didn't know your true reasons, and honestly, your switching personality did not help much either.

Unbeknown to them, the next trials would give them all the answers they needed. If they were brave enough to face them.

Chapter 14

[hannahssimblr]

“That bit is upside down,” Jen chews her lip, holding two halves of a tent pole. “Or is it? I don’t know. Maybe you were right.”

“I have no clue, to be honest.” I hold my hands up in surrender and back away from the crumpled heap that is our shared tent for the weekend, the sight of which fills me with increasing dread. “You know what I’m like. I can’t do stuff like this.”

“Like read?” She scrutinises the crumpled instruction sheet for the tenth time. “This shouldn’t be so hard for us. Do you think we should have been assessed in school?”

“For a learning difficulty? What? No. There weren’t classes for this kind of complicated stuff. It’s not our fault.”

“It’s piss easy,” Shane comments. He assembled both his tent and Claire’s and Evie’s in the time it took Jen and me to wrestle our tent parts from the bag. “You put the poles together, thread them through the tarp, and stick the pins in the ground. What’s the matter with ye?”

“Dunno. We’re just fucking stupid, I suppose.”

“Push over, I’ll do it.” 

Jen lets the poles roll off her palm onto the ground and we let him, watching uselessly as he slots the poles together with some sort of insane, military efficiency and has the whole thing standing neatly, our perfect, nylon dome, in about two minutes flat. 

“Thanks,” I say. 

Jen echoes. “Yeah, jeez, cheers for that.”

“Do you ever think the real world is, like, going to come and bite ye in the arses?” Shane wonders, wiping the sweat from his face with the hem of his t-shirt. “When you go off and start living on your own, I mean. Do you ever worry you won’t be able to hack it?”

I look at Jen, and she at me. I shrug. “I’m moving to a city, like, do you think there’ll be wilderness excursions there, or something?”

“You might eventually need to read instructions, is all.”

I grin. “Someone else can do it for me.”

“Right, yeah.” his brow furrows. “I’m just saying, like, you might get a bit of a shock when you’re out there on your own.”

“I’ve been alone though,” I argue. “It’s not like my parents do everything for me. I’m not one of those kids who was-”

“Yeah, not with all things, just some things. Like, what if you ever needed to earn your own money, to get a job in a restaurant or something? Do you not think you’d need a bit of know-how, a bit of practical experience?”

I scoff. “Why would I need to do that?”

“Because sometimes people have to work.” I hate the way he’s saying it, and feel my body stiffen like hackles are rising along my spine. Of course, Shane is going on about this. Proper job this, practical experience that. 

This is the tone that accompanies every tactful reminder that he comes from a hardworking family and I, apparently, do not. Like my parents’ academic backgrounds lessen their credibility. Like it makes them snobbier, lazier, more willing to sneer at ordinary folk. What's true for them does not automatically extend to me. To think so is an insult. 

Shane’s dad is the head chef in some hotel in Tullamore, his mother a florist who works seven days a week, and they have drilled into him and Kelly their extraordinary, frankly ridiculous work ethic. They think it’s normal, aspirational even, to get up at five in the morning for some mundane job. But I know something with more truth to it: that there’s merit in taking it easy, with relaxing, sleeping in, and spending time with the things you enjoy. And, by the way, what does all of this have to do with a tent? 

I plaster on my best laid back smile and drop a hand onto his shoulder. 

“This is a boring conversation.” I insist, in the hopes that I will embarrass him out of putting me through this conversation. “Let’s grab a few drinks, yeah? Talking about future stuff should be off-limits for the weekend.”

He shrugs. “I suppose, yeah. I’ll drop it.”

“Thanks, mate.”

I amble over to where the girls hang out on the grass and join them, getting Claire to pass me of the drinks we smuggled through among an inaccessible pile of socks and underwear at the bottom of her bag. I crack it open and swish the beer around my mouth. It’s warm, horrible, but it’s wonderful in another way. It’s the most authentic experience possible. Here I am, in a field, drinking warm beer with the sun on my face. Carefree, with the rhythmic beat from the main stage pulsing through the earth beneath me. I could get used to things being simple.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[celli-ohs]

awooga!

part one of accidentally in love! series shy!soobin x popular!reader; college!au, strangers to friends to lovers! fluff, comedy, angst, smut

12. the eta theta eta nu special (written chapter 2.5k)

You’re tweaking out. Never have you been so stressed for a simple frat party in your life, and you’ve been to almost every single one since you started college. “Calm down, or else I'll burn your scalp.” Jen warns? Threatens? You don’t know, but you try to breathe. “You look so pretty, babes!” Chaewon squeals as she applies the lip gloss to your lips, finishing your look. “Really?” You pout at her, wanting and needing her confirmation. “Of course! You’re always pretty! I’d never lie to you!” She assures you. “You lied to me this morning when you said there were no more croissants, you gave the last one to Kazuha.” You remind her. She freezes, then shakes her head. 

“That’s different. You look so beautiful, Soobin will fall in love with you.” Chaewon nods. “I still have not seen the man in person, so I’m taking this opportunity to see if he’s actually cute.” Jen comments and you look at her confused through the mirror in front of you. “I thought you said you knew him?” You ask. She rolls her eyes as she curls the last lock of hair. “I knew him as in I was thirsty in the middle of the night so I went to grab me water, and when I went to the kitchen I was greeted by a gremlin chugging orange juice.” She argues, before brushing out your curls. “There, gorgeous as ever.” You smile as you look over your done up appearance. 

It’s not that you didn’t wear makeup or refused to do your hair, you definitely had a hygiene routine every morning. But you liked the fact that you could dramatize your features with a false lash, lip liner, and contour. You’re lucky to have friends to help you, it sped up the time getting ready by tenfold. “So what are you wearing?” Jen plops onto your bed, laying against your pillows. “Wear something sexy!” Chaewon giggles. You begin to dig through your closet, quickly realizing you own more ugly and memeable shirts than you had imagined. 

Usually when there was a party, you just showed up in something presentable: a cropped top and a cute pair of jeans. It wasn’t like you were trying to impress anyone anyways, usually your skills in beer pong did that. But this time you had someone to impress, a very important and attractive person. “What about this?” You pull out a cropped top to show the girls. “You wear that all the time, no.” Jen waves you off. “Wait! I’ll be right back.” Chaewon runs out of your room to her own. She comes back quickly, holding a garment. “Do you still have that white tube top? Wear that with this!” 

She presents you a green lace ruffled mini skirt, something simple yet sexy. Before you can say anything, she throws it at you, forcing you to try it on. “Oh my gawd it’s perfect! This with a nice boot, your fake Tiffany necklace Sunoo got you and some hoops-” Chaewon suddenly gasps. “I should become a fashion major.” She suddenly declares. “Yeah no, you’re already too deep into your degree.” Jen reminds her. You quickly change into Chaewon’s suggestions, and give the girls a spin, showing your whole outfit. “You look drop dead gorgeous,” Jen grins. “You’re so hot!” Chaewon squeals.

“I’m so nervous,” You suddenly admit. Your stomach has been queasy this entire time. “What? What’s wrong?” Jen and Chaewon pull you to sit with them on your bed. “This is gonna be the first time we go out together and there’s gonna be people we know.” You explain. “Am I doing too much? Should I not go? What if he ignores me the entire time?” You begin to reveal your worries to your friends. “Oh baby don’t say that.” Jen gives you a hug. “From what you tell us, Soobin is a great guy, he would never do anything to hurt you.” You nod along, despite your thoughts. 

“Yeah and if he does, Jen and Keeho will beat him up.” Chaewon offers, making you laugh. “I don’t think I’ll need you to, I can handle myself,” You joke. “Not gonna lie, I’m kinda mad Jay didn’t record you choking Sunghoon. You literally beat up a whole ass man who’s nearly six feet tall.” Jen chuckles. “I feel bad I didn’t mean to actually hurt him, I just couldn’t let him text Soobin.” You try to explain yourself. “No I get it, you’ve got that thing- what do they call it? Women’s intuition?” Chaewon tries to remember. “A mother’s strength? I don’t know, that thing where a woman gets stronger when there’s a crisis.” 

“Well safe to assume Sunghoon and the boys will never betray you again. Me neither, I’m here for life.” Jen crosses her fingers, making you laugh. But your laughter soon falls short when there’s a knock on your door. “Oh my gawd I’m gonna hurl.” You wince. “No! You’ll get my skirt dirty.” Chaewon warns as she goes to get the door. You hear her open it, greeting Soobin warmly. “Come on, let’s go say hi to dream boat Soobin.” Jen teases, lugging you up. You force yourself to smile as she guides you down the hall. You catch sight of him immediately. Instead of his usual hoodie or large shirt, Soobin dressed in a loose black button up, tucked into a pair of black pants.

When he turns around, you’re pleasantly surprised to find he’s pushed his hair back a little, revealing his forehead. “Wow,” He gapes eyes traveling up and down your figure, and for once you’re not upset at a man doing so. “You look really pretty.” He smiles. “Thank you,” You blush, letting go of Jen to stand beside him. “I mean you always look pretty, promise. But right now, you look extra pretty. But that doesn’t mean I think you should wear this all the time-” “Thank you Soobin, I appreciate the compliment,” You chuckle, nudging his arm. “Ahem.” Your attention jumps to your two best friends who stand together arms crossed.

You notice Soobin stands straighter. “Soobin,” Jen’s voice is chilling. “Y-Yes?” He stutters. “What do you do?” She asks that question as if she were your father interrogating their daughter’s date to prom. “Huh? Oh, I’m a Language/Literature major here at Hybe, and I work at the coffee shop on campus.” He answers diligently. Jen nods, though doesn’t look impressed. “Do you know who I am?” Jennifer suddenly asks and you immediately hold back a sigh. “Okay! Time to go!” You clap your hands and begin to push Soobin towards the door. “Hey! He hasn’t answered my question!” Jen argues. 

As if Soobin couldn't make the situation worse, he turns around to speak. “Uh- you’re Yeonjun’s ex, right? You got scared when I would snack in the middle of the night-” "Soobin, let's go!” You shout, before shutting the door behind you. You finally release your sigh, escaping the madness. “They were nice.” Soobin tries to reassure you. You shoot him a smile and nod. “Yeah, they are. Ready to go?” You ask. Soobin answers by taking your hand and leading you downstairs to his car. 

“Usually Keeho picks us up,” You explain as Soobin drives down the street. He has one hand on the wheel, the other has not detached from your hand since you two sat down. “He’ll be there too? Your other friends?” He asks. “Yeah, why? You nervous?” You tease. He scoffs. “I am.” He admits shyly. “I mean I’m nervous to meet your friends too.” You try to appease him. “Yeah, but you already know all of them,” He counters. That was true. You’ve gotten drunk with Yeonjun many times, studied with Taehyun, argued with Beomgyu, and even hung out with Kai once. “I don’t really know any of your friends.” Soobin mumbles. Deciding to distract him, you change the subject. 

“When was the last time you’ve been to a party? I know you said it’s been a while,” You ask him. Instantly you notice the tension in the air thicken. Soobin’s grip on your hand tightens just slightly. “I haven’t been to one in about a year I think.” He starts to explain. “Ever since my ex and I broke up.” Oh crap. You’ve hit a mine. “Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” You apologize. “No, it’s fine, it’s been a while like you said.” He shakes his head. “I just was scared I’d run into her, you know? Especially right after the breakup.” You nod understandingly. Before you can offer words of comfort, Soobin clears his throat. “Looks like we’re here.” And the two of you gaze up at the brightly lit house filled with drunk adults at the end of the street.

One thing about the Eta Theta Eta Nu Fraternity house was that it wasn’t your luxurious mansion the movies depicted. Instead it was a mediterranean style home with six bedrooms and four bathrooms, a garage and basement, a pool in the back and it was actually owned by former Frat President turned sponsor Choi Siwon. Because of the limited housing, only the council lived inside the house, and usually they didn’t even stay there. You and Soobin walk inside hand in hand, you try your best to ignore his clammy fingers, because you could understand his nerves. But secretly you were just as anxious. 

As soon as you walk in, you’re met with loud music and chatter, hoards of people socializing and drinking like there was no tomorrow. “Yo what up girl?” A familiar voice catches your attention, and from the crowd emerges Keeho. “Kee!” You release Soobin to give one of your best friends a hug. “Hey! You look sexy, girl! Damn, I actually gotta give it to Jen. Don’t tell her I said that.” He points at you, making you laugh. “Thank you! Oh, um Keeho, this is Soobin,” You tug the poor boy closer to you, introducing him. “He’s my… friend.” You decide to land on. Keeho’s demeanor immediately switches.

“Hey, nice to meet you finally.” Keeho offers Soobin a hand shake. “You as well.” Is all he’s able to squeak out. “...Well we’re going to find Sunoo, see you around.” You quickly pull Soobin with you past Keeho, hoping the awkward interaction would take care of itself. “He’s with Won and Ni-ki,” Keeho shouts as he goes down the hall. “He’s so scary,” Soobin leans down to whisper in your ear as you guide him through the bustling house. “I promise he’s not, I’m so sorry,” You plead. You eventually find Sunoo and the others at your usual hang out, outside in the backyard by the pool chairs. 

“Sunoo!” You shout, once again letting go of Soobin to hug your best friend. As you and Sunoo excitedly exchange a few words, Soobin can’t help but feel a bit neglected. He knows he shouldn’t. You’re a popular girl who has so many loving friends. But as you’re giving hugs to the two other boys, he not only feels jealous, but lonely. “This is Soobin!” You pull him back to reality, beaming up at him with that beautiful smile of yours. “Your boyfriend?” One of the boys teases you, and you immediately shoot him a look. He shuts up and quickly mumbles an apology. Taking the opportunity to be cheeky, Soobin shakes his hand and smiles. “I hope to be.” 

So far your night has been going well. Chaewon and Jen rejoined you, and Soobin finally tracks down his own friends to finally have some proper introductions. Yeonjun is already tipsy when you meet him, and he keeps mumbling something about losing a bet. Taehyun and Kai are friendly as always and Beomgyu, well he’s Beomgyu. You’re sitting next to Soobin chatting with your friends when Jake arrives. “Hey! Are you finally ready to lose, cheater?” He slurs, already drunk. You stand up, grinning at Soobin. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a bit,” You quickly press a kiss to his cheek, which has Ni-ki gagging like a child. “Okay,” He nods, watching you depart with a dreamy smile.

Despite your order, Soobin ventures back inside to get another drink- and maybe a water. He’s pouring himself a glass when he suddenly hears her voice. “Soobin?” He freezes, blood running cold. “Oh my God it is you. It’s been so long!” Haewon is smiling at him like they were on good terms. “H-Hey Haewon.” He clears his throat, and sets his drink down on the counter. She just had to approach him when the kitchen was empty. “Wow, you’re looking good. Really good.” She’s drunk, he noticed. Not terribly so, but just enough for her to see him in a good light. “Thanks.” He mumbles, before sighing and grabbing his drink to leave.

“Wait, Soobin?” She catches his sleeve, stopping him. He’d be a liar if he didn’t admit the way she looked up at him made his heart ache. But instead of aching with passion, it was with pain. Even now he could hear her nasty accusations. “I miss you.” What. “I miss you so much, I’m so sorry for cheating on you. I never meant for it to happen.” It takes a second for Soobin to process her words, but in the end he just scoffs and shrugs her off. “Haewon, you cheated on me for six months, half of our relationship. I think you did mean for it to happen.” He counters, and tries to walk away, but the girl throws herself onto him. 

“No, I didn’t! You can’t blame me! It wasn’t even my fault! He made me cheat! I promise!” She’s crying now, her makeup smearing down her face. Even though she hurt him so much more than she thought she did, the tiniest part of Soobin still felt bad for Haewon. Not because he missed her or that he still loved her, but because it was pathetic to see his ex act this way in public. “Haewon, I don’t want you-” “I miss you so much, I need you, I love you Soobin!” Suddenly she lunges at him, and Soobin regrets not trying harder in P.E. class as his reflexes are slow. Forcing herself onto him, Haewon hungrily kisses Soobin. 

Instantly he pushes her off of him. “Haewon what the fuck-” He wipes his mouth in disgust. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” He spits at her. “Soobin I-“ “No! I don’t fucking love you anymore Haewon! You cheated on me with multiple guys for six months! Don’t you get that you hurt me?! I’ve moved on, I’ve been happy without you! And now you have to go and fuck everything up and tell me you miss me, that you love me! Get it in your fucking head that I don’t care anymore, we’re done!”

It seems as if his screams have finally gotten to her, as Haewon begins to sob, she quickly storms off cursing him.

Bonus:

Haewon was Soobin's first serious relationship

She and Soobin met as classmates

Haewon is the type of person who likes to go out often, and with Soobin being an introvert he never suspected she'd cheat

Beomgyu arguably hates Haewon the most, having never got along with her from the start of their relationship

Haewon is a frequenter at the frat parties, Yeonjun originally wanted her banned but the frat informed him they can't actually ban people so he and Kai ignore her when she's there

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[super-ion]

What about "what do you mean your not going?" In the context of Jen getting ready for a villain holiday party/mixer?

"What do you mean you're not going?" I ask Emily.

"I mean, I think it would be kind of weird if I did," she replies.

I guess I can't quite keep my face from falling, because her face softens and she walks over to me and caresses my cheek.

"Babe," she tells me. "Y'all are supervillains. I'm a former hero. I fought some of them. Hell, Lady Lacuna was my archnemesis."

"I..."

Okay, yeah, I knew that. I was a huge Cannonball fan back in the day. It was kinda awkward when they officially "met" at the engagement party, but I guess they're pretending to get along for my sake.

"Okay, but she knows," I argue back. "She does, right?"

Emily sighs.

"Yes, she knows."

"Em, it's just going to be my friends," I say. "You've met most of them... I mean, half of them are going to be in my wedding party."

She chews her lip in apprehension.

"You don't have to come," I say, relenting. "But I'd love it if you did. It's just a holiday party with my friends... who happen to be supervillains. Nothing nefarious, just a couple friends hanging out."

"Okay"

"But... wait, did you say okay?" I ask her.

"Yeah, okay," she replies. "They're your friends, I'm your fiancee. I gotta get used to occasionally being in the same room as them, right?"

"Yes! Oh my god, I love you!"

***

Dr Hands' mansion is lavishly decorated. I'm not sure exactly which holiday tradition is going on here. I think it's some ancient mesopotamian solstice festival. He's off in the corner animatedly explaining it all to Arachnid and his sister.

"Okay..." Emily admits, "this is... kinda nice."

"See!" I say with a grin. "Just a party. Kinda weird that we haven't seen Sarah though. She said she was bringing a date. She was super excited about it."

"Oh?" Emily asks, raising an eye brow. "I didn't realize she was dating again after Typhoon broke up with her."

Yeah, that was a whole entire mess. Lady L swore off dating men forever, but I guess she changed her mind, because she's started seeing someone.

"Wonder who the lucky..." Emily trails off and her eyes go wide as they fix on something over my shoulder.

"No." she says in a half whisper.

I turn in confusion, and it doesn't take me long to figure out why she looks like she's seen a ghost.

"Em. Is that...?" I ask, not really able to articulate the words for what I'm seeing.

"Yeah," she replies. "It is."

Sarah, aka Lady Lacuna, Mistress of the Void, has arrived at the party... and she's hanging on the arm of John... Emily's brother, my future brother in law... aka Umbra, the Guardian in Darkness and official member of the Justice Force.

He says something to her and she grins and beams at him. Oh god, she's fallen for him. Hard.

"Did you know?" she hisses.

"No," I reply. "You really think you wouldn't have been the first person I told if I knew?"

Ohhh no, they've spotted us and they're heading this way.

Emily recovers before I do and puts on her best customer service smile, the one that doesn't reach her eyes.

"John, Sarah, hi. I didn't realize you were... together."

Lady L grins.

"Well... we met at the engagement party and... I dunno, I guess we kinda clicked."

My mouth is still hanging open and Emily nudges me.

"Uh... Yeah..." I say. "Our maid of honor and man of honor... dating."

"Don't worry!" John says. "We promise not to make things weird. It's your special day."

Lady L pats his arm tenderly.

"I need to introduce John to everyone, but we'll be back to mingle in a little bit."

She drags him away in the direction of Dr Hands.

"Emily." I say. "Do they know??"

"I... I have no idea."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know."

God, she's probably more shaken than I am.

"We have to tell them, right?"

"We can't just out them like that, Jen."

Yeah, she's got a point there... but what the heck??

"Aren't you glad I asked you to come to this?" I ask her.

She looks at me like I've completely lost it. Then a small, almost hysterical laugh bubbles out of her lips.

"Yeah... I guess so"

[the-firebird69]

Fast Car

I find your attitude to be particularly repulsive but what these people did to you was trying to be fairly repulsive under pressure and extremely aggressive and needy when they take stuff away and they do it on purpose. And handed to someone else is really your dick in your balls and figuratively and actually now through all of this with all this heinous activity and I wasn't brought up this way massive amounts of idiocy and death and violence I do see what they're doing quite simply and it's really vulgar but I still am retaining myself and they can't ever take it away. This is I don't think a Man and she seen it to issue a subtle warning to man not to be such assholes and to tone it down however the transplants I don't feel that something they're doing I don't think that they're right with what they say about it and the stem cells don't come from there. They're grown there and they're separate they come from intestines and and there is some horrific doctor and group of doctors probably at the hospitals and they're Max and they're disgusting pigs they want to put me there and threaten me and they're all out of line. But this song is something of the history of my wife and I and she was the checkout kind of girl when I was working at the deli and she's watching because her sister was in the deli and it's harsh and people watching her and not everybody knew about her no hardly anyone but then she was saying she's helping me a lot with this did a fast car won't do it or a black car doesn't get you money she's been saying that a lot lately it's a vehicle and so they get that and it does not get your money for the most part unless you're trying to this is very helpful code did you and this is a little bit off of what reality is but women get disrespected a lot it should take care of it really you know now that they're not doing that and it's horrific so with that said I guess the pseudo empire's movie in and the max will think I'm more susceptible and they don't know what they're talking about it's another group of you guys but they're much more impressive actually both groups are what's a Max or terrible but these guys make horrendous decisions because of them

Zues Hera

Is exactly right my boys make some decisions which are wrong and continue doing it like Timmy Doyle that's an ass tonight s*** that's for dogs and donkeys and stuff find yard animals barnyard animals you stick them into it you don't stick to yourself.

I found this song to be so interesting and emotionally tearing that I had to look at it and it's about Billy z partially but it's really about our friend having some kind of fast car it means everything and it does say it he said it to her a while ago said it does use it does have an effect but he pulled his car stuff with Jen and that's what Jen says is I'm black and she did this with her Lily it's really profound the sound of the music is so haunting and she's loving person and helps him now she's going to have motivation if you'll see a lot of women do it if she get mad and she want the lightning bolts back

Mac daddy

Olympus so the sun says a daughter pretty soon we'll have it so we can throw by hand and they're horrified. We're going to work on this and it's an idea but we are going to put it forwards I will tell you what it's approved and a lot of us are saying yes and we will proceed and put the sale as listed and proposed to land is sold even though it's not for sale we will sleep in for when it's going to be four

Nuada Arrianna

As I said in the stone but okay it's still in roofs and there are much harder yeah they're f*** her roofs bunker at roofs we're doing ahead now and we are going to load up the cad system with the palace and down the road and we're going to go through the process and argue about the changes and see what you guys think up it ought to be nice and it says it will I got a lot of stuff to go over but boy this is great

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[waitingx2xdie]

There was no transparency here with Kat. In truth? The only one who was still BLIND to her actions was Kat herself. An opaque, oblique sense of UNRECOGNISABILITY of oneself. She’d never been the JEALOUS type, let alone the CONTROLLING type. At least not in relationships…Yes, she was guilty of being envious, even sabotaging at times, those who got promotions and contracts over her in the workplace. YES, she was a notorious control freak in handling said contracts and wouldn’t allow anyone but her trusted few colleagues to help her execute said contracts for fear of them FUCKING IT UP. But when it came to her relationships? Hell, Kat wouldn’t even say she HAD relationships… Typically she bounced between one-night stands and casual hookups, never staying in the same place long enough for the guy to catch feelings and become a JEALOUS PSYCHOFREAK. (Kinda like she was right now.) She’d always believed staying in one place would hurt her career. That if she gave her time to anyone beyond herself and her father, then… Then she wouldn’t ever BECOME the person she WANTED to be. So now? Now with her finally breathing, letting down her walls, letting someone else IN… She’d grown complacent. DEPENDENT. There was a comfort to the consistency of always having someone to come home to… She’d thought Nora had shared in that comfort… But, recent conflicts had reminded Kat that people weren’t just cardboard cutouts. They weren’t mere HOLLOW PUPPETS preprogrammed with individual talent and motivation. They had needs. HUMAN NEEDS. The very kind of needs Kat had numbed herself to over the year as she chased her father’s pride, love, and acceptance… And Nora’s needs weren’t being met… So she’d been seeking comfort ELSEWHERE… From another woman, who wasn’t so shit-scared of commitment that she could ACTUALLY give Nora the attention she desired… Finding out had flipped a switch in Kat Jennings. Gone was the passive, submissive, complacent, ever-cautious woman who was happy enjoying the status quo. And in her place? …Kat Jennings didn’t know anymore…

The second Nora had announced that she was heading down to the Skyline Cafe to pay Darcy a visit, something broiled and burst, like a VOLCANIC ERUPTION within Kat Jennings. She wasn’t ENTIRELY SURE what her plan was, but she’d grown weary, tired, sick, of simply ignoring her OWN NEEDS and putting off the personal touches in favor of the professional chase. And so… Kat Jennings had let her true nature take its course. A quick call into work had bought her all the time she NEEDED to, well… To do what she’d never done… To do what she should have done long, long ago… FOLLOW HER HEART. She announced, with no room to argue, that she, too, was going to head to the diner with Nora, and meet this Darcy Blake, and see for herself exactly HOW Nora & Darcy interacted. She… Hadn’t planned for EMILY to join them. And had she taken a few moments to CONSIDER the logical domino effect of her announcement, she would have known that Emily was ALWAYS going to tag along, too. Never one to be left in the dark. Or out in the cold. Kat had no complaints or qualms. For once, Emily Turner was NOT the woman Kat feared most. And as the saying went… THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY… They’d arrived at the cafe in short order, and almost immediately, Kat was NOT impressed. Brow raised, gaze turning to judge Nora the second they saw Darcy DRAPED over the count like some pin-up girl. “She always like this?” She whispered, giving Nora a little NUDGE of an elbow, before appending one last add-on. “...Hon?” Was it a good or bad thing she’d NEVER heard Nora call HER that? Because if ‘Hon’ had been a pet name given to students and everyday peers, then she had NOTHING to worry about. But, if it was a nickname SPECIFIC to Darcy… Then… Then they’d have problems. 

“I’ll take my usual. And a slice of your… A slice of cherry pie.” Ears pricked up at that. Kat was on alert tonight, analyzing every single glance and move and word that came from Nora. That little CORRECTION… “I’ll have a slice, too.” Yes, she was going to test it for herself, see how good it really was. Small smile as Nora agreed to the NO FLIRTING RULE, and she hooked her own arm around Nora’s. Nothing too EXPLICITLY ROMANTIC, because then she’d probably be breaking her own rules and PISS NORA OFF. But hopefully just enough to make Darcy UNCOMFORTABLE. With that, she let her heckles down and followed Nora & Emily to their booth, still hooked their arms together until they reached the table where--... “Hm? What are you--” And then Emily got SHOVED into the booth. “Oh…” Distant numbness. So used to Emily’s bullshit. DESENSITIZED was the word. She took her seat, sliding in and leaning over to whisper-shout to Emily. “Do you have ANY shame?” Eyes turned to Nora and she took a second to glance around the diner, spying a JUKEBOX against the wall and a small TV bracketed in the corner behind them. But that was NOTHING compared to the view right in front of her. Heart beginning to pick up its pace, she smiled across to the other. Thankful or flirtatious? BOTH? Both. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.” Legs crossed, the toe of her heel brushing affectionately along Nora’s calf. “I’m paying, by the way.”

For Emily, she had little choice BUT to be a PASSIVE OBSERVER. Identified as Nora’s baby sister, she couldn’t play things off like a JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND to random strangers. For once, she appreciated having Kat around. The call for NO FLIRTATION and the way both Darcy fixed her presentation AND Nora glared Darcy a warning that said, ‘fuck this up, and I’m ripping you a new one’ felt… NICE. …SAFE… “Yeah, sorry, once we heard she was paying you a visit, we just HAD to come and meet her new friend and find out for ourselves if your coffee and food matched your reputation.” A glance at the DOUCHEBAG CLICHES in the booth next to the one Nora had said they’d take and she turned confused, furrowed brow over to her. “Next to the greasy Jheri curl losers?” Even Darcy seemed a little CONFUSED by that particular request. “Whatever you say, mom.” Having placed her order, she matched Kat’s affection with an arm around her sister’s shoulder, just close enough to WHISPER her sweet little nothings in her ear. She SNORTED in amusement at the older woman’s reaction; PROTESTS. “Whatever you say~...” She repeated again, with a more teasing droll to her-- “Hhuurrkk!!” And then she got SHOVED into the booth, drawing the attention of the guys with an ‘ohhh’ as greasy as their hair. “Okay, okay, point made.” She brushed herself down, fixing her seat and checking her curls, just in time for Kat to… 

“Do you have ANY shame?” Roll of her eyes and she whispered back. “More than you know…” But that wouldn’t stop her from just ROLLING OVER & DYING. If she didn’t believe in the love she had for her big sister, then how was Nora ever going to gain faith and start to believe in them, too? ��Good place. Bad locals.” Head turned to glance over at the counter where Darcy was not chatting to the other girl on staff. “Like I said, I can see why you come here. Glance between the two sisters. NO, she was not going to stop pushing this narrative. “We’ll see about this coffee and that pie.” Glance across to Kat and she snorted. “Good, cuz I got nothin’ on me.” SHE NEVER DID. Emily only sought financial stability and reliability for the sake of Nora. She’d been a jobless problem child, bouncing between firings at 24 years of age before Eric’s death. It had ONLY been for Nora & Tim’s sake that she’d finally dedicated herself to a single job. And she’d LOST that job in the last four months with Nora cutting her off. Started acting out, picking fights, showing up late, drunk, the usual. Was like all that MATURITY from the last four years had regressed even quicker than it had come. In case it wasn’t aware to anyone: Emily Turner did NOT, I repeat, did NOT care about herself. “So you try anything else here or do you only come for…” Nod to Darcy. “Her. Cherry pie?” Yes, she’d noticed Nora CORRECTING her little Freudian slip, too.

For Darcy… Kat wasn’t being as SUBTLE as she probably wanted to believe. Or maybe that was the entire POINT of it? Maybe she was WANTING Darcy to read the room. To feel the threat posed and implied by Kat to BACK THE FUCK DOWN & STAY OUT OF HER TERRITORY. Proven by the way she aggressively HOOKED Nora’s arm as if to leave her own MARK and tell Darcy that SHE was HERS. There was just one problem with that… Nora had already discarded the idea that she was WITH SOMEONE ELSE. Which meant Nora was FAR GAME and she wasn’t about to let THIS BITCH scare her away. Nora sending her a warning glance to tell her to BEHAVE was a warning she was going to take heed of and command she was going to OBEY, however. “Thanks, I, wasn’t expecting to see you with…” Glance over Kat & Emily. “Friends.” A heads up would have been appreciated, before she proceeded to HUMILIATE HERSELF & make herself look like an absolute WHORE in front of two women whose respect and acceptance she ABSOLUTELY was going to need if she was gonna have ANY CHANCE of pursuing anything real with the older woman. “Loud and clear, darlin’.” Yes, she’d plucked that right out of thin air. How Nora would react? She had no clue. But if ‘innocent pet names’ were the only means of them Chinese whispering real affection toward each other tonight, well… “One, uhh… two slices of cherry pie coming plus one apple pie coming RIGHT UP.”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Feet were itching to run as her heart propelled her back toward the counter after having seated Nora and company. Cheryl was waiting and IMMEDIATELY moved to comfort her. ‘Whoa. That’s rough. And not the fun kind…’ Darcy’s eyes fluttered shut and she let out a strained exhale. “Kill me now.” Nervous swallow. ‘You need me to take this one?’ Cheryl’s brow raised and Darcy glanced across as Nora shoved Emily into the seat and sat DIRECTLY OPPOSITE her friend. How very convenient. She shook her head. “No. No. I got this. Homegirl’s got this.” Yes, she just called herself HOMEGIRL. Cheryl snorted and smiled before gesturing for her to go right ahead. …If only Darcy had seen the way Cheryl’s smile DROPPED as soon as she turned away to prepare the slices of pie. Within a few minutes, she’d cut and prepped three slices of pie and three coffees, carefully balancing the three plates on her left arm and slotting the coffees into a little tray, she headed on over with all the finesse of, well, of a woman who had been doing this job WAY TOO FUCKING LONG. “Hey!! So, Caffe macchiato with extra sweeter and creamer for Nora, Americano Grande no milk, no cream with extra sweetener for Kat, and last but not least, one caramel latte regular for Emily.” Next, she quickly divvied up the pie, notably handing Nora a BIGGER SLICE than Kat & Emily. “That’ll be 28.65. Is there anything else I can get you girls?” Hand intentionally reached to MASSAGE at Nora’s shoulder. 

‘Hey, I got a question.’ Piped-up SCOTTIE PERKINS. Darcy sent Nora a knowing glance and roll of her eyes. “What can I getcha, Scottie?” He nodded toward Cheryl. ‘Not you. I’m just wondering when Cheryl’s gon’ come serve me a slice of that cherry pie.’ Darcy let out an EXHAUSTED SIGH. “Don’t you have ANYTHING better to do?” Scottie snorted. ‘And miss this trainwreck?’ Whatever. He really WAS a LOST CAUSE. “I’ll send her over…” Words were SURRENDERING. What Scottie wanted, Scottie got. Dale’s policy. An apologetic glance over her shoulder toward Cheryl who motioned beneath Nora’s table. Darcy took a step back over to the OTHER BOOTH, notably sneaking a few inches back, eyes glancing down to peer just beneath the table where the toe of Kat’s heel was VERY CLEARLY playing along Nora’s calf. JAW LOCKED. HEART FROZE. “Are you sure you don’t want a different booth? We got a quiet one over there.” A nod toward the Jukebox. Seriously, why HAD Nora chosen THIS fucking booth? Was she TRYING to scare Darcy away? SHE DIDN’T KNOW.

THIS HADN'T BEEN HER BRIGHT IDEA ─ They could all blame Kat Jennings for the awkward weight suffocating them. She'd told her that she was going to go & see Darcy tonight. An attempt at being OPEN & HONEST, like the other had insisted she be. What Nora hadn't expected was for the brunette to go so far as to call into work, & tell them she was gonna be a couple hours late to the office, just so she could TAG ALONG & meet her new friend. Maybe she should have shot Darcy a text, telling her that plans had changed, & that her roommate & sister were coming along. Easier said than done with two girls WATCHING HER LIKE HAWKS. If they saw her messaging someone, they'd ask what she was saying. & In the nature of being transparent, Nora would have to tell them, which would just make her look MORE GUILTY & SUSPICIOUS. Like she was warning the young waitress to be on her best behavior. (which is precisely what she would have been doing) Brows shot up, lips quirking into a smile, & an amused chuckle passing them, "Careful not to choke, hon." Not a good choice of words, but there was no romantic intent behind it. As a mother & a teacher, she used pet names like that on a regular basis. "That's right. They insisted on coming along." Hazels subconsciously dropped to that lollipop as tongue clacked it against teeth. Her own swept across lips, before she offered an uncomfortable smile & turned to look at Kat & Emily. The two were introducing themselves. Well, Emily was introducing them. Kat looked tense & ready to BURST A BLOOD VESSEL. (or strangle someone) "I'll take my usual." One caffe macchiato with extra sweetener & cream. "And a slice of your..." Awkward pause, "A slice of cherry pie." She HAD TO, right? If she suddenly didn't order it, it would look worse than if she did.

COLD BLACK PITS caught her own, & heart leapt into larynx. Despite her size, Kat could be a very intimidating woman. "No flirting." She agreed, tossing a look at Darcy that told her to BEHAVE. A small nod, "Yeah, a booth sounds nice." When Nora came here on her own, she NEVER took the booth. She always chose to sit at the counter where she could easily talk to Darcy. But, a booth would be SAFE. She just needed to get through this evening & convince the others that they had nothing to worry about. "We'll take the one by the window." Next to the assholes who always harassed the staff. "You want anything, Em?"

After ordering, she turned on the heels of leather boots & raised an arm to signify that they should all take a seat at the booth. Before they could sit down, Emily had whispered something CRUDE & SUGGESTIVE into her ear. Hot breath rushing across skin, she shivered, "Y-Yeah, that's her." She didn't honestly know how to respond. The implications were GLARING. Her sister was pointing out that she had a thing for blondes... Which Emily very much WAS a blonde, & Kat very much WASN'T. "It has nothing to do with... That." She let out a sigh, giving her sister a small shove into the booth, (with a bit more force than was necessary), before taking a seat next to her. Across from Kat. "It's a nice little diner, huh?" Was she helping or hurting the situation with her attempt at small talk?

[randomshyperson]

High School Sweethearts - Cheerleader!Wanda x Reader [Kinktober]

Summary: The new student captures your attention completely. She's perfect and she's everything you ever wanted.

Warnings: hints of corruption/innocence kink, first kiss, first time, virgin!Wanda, smut, teasing, some edging, fingering, strap-on use, top!reader, high school au | Words: 6.923k

A/N-> My first time writing something of this kink be kind. I'm absorbing the latest episode of She-Hulk yet, someone needs to send Jen hugs.

Kinktober Collection | General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

It was Kate who told you about the new students.

It was Tuesday, and the school was full of burbs all over the hall. You were late and a little irritated because you had argued with your father on the way - Steve Rogers could be many things, and stubborn was most of them. - and so you weren't the least bit interested in the daily gossip that your colleagues might have.

Still, Kate was one of your favorite people and she was so sweet that you didn't have the heart to ignore her attempts to get close during her freshman year, and now, she was a sophomore and you were graduating, and even though you weren't in the same classes, you were inseparable. 

"I hear they're the mayor's kids, and Y/N, you have to see, the two of them look like they stepped off a magazine cover." She excitedly narrates her encounter with the new students in the cafeteria. "If they weren't wearing their Avengers High uniforms, I would have mistaken them for models, I swear."

You chuckle, finishing picking up your books and closing your locker.

"Be careful not to drool too much, Bishop. Or your girlfriend will get jealous." You tease, but Kate doesn't laugh, assuming a momentarily fearful expression and looking around to see if Yelena wasn't somewhere listening in on the conversation.

The reaction only makes you laugh harder.

It takes three periods before you finally see the new students. By then, you have heard half the school talking about them, and you know they are twins, and yes, really the mayor's children because Darcy Lewis shows you a picture on her cell phone with the whole family landing in the local paper.

"They're cute, but it's no big deal." You mutter to Kate after looking at the photo, and she and Darcy share a nasal laugh.

"You'll change your mind when you see them in person." Your friend says, looking forward again because Professor Harkness has just entered the room.

Darcy puts her cell phone away, and you sigh, "I highly doubt it, I study with the most beautiful girls in the world, I'm not easy to impress. " You compliment them charmingly and Darcy and Kate laugh softly, rolling their eyes in good humor.

It's not a lie what you said, yet when between the penultimate and last period, a lost-looking girl bumps into you in the hallway, you are momentarily speechless at the greenish irises in front of you.

"Sorry, I didn't see you." She mutters in apology, stooping to grab the book she has knocked over and return it to you.

As you pick it up, you don't let go. "But I did see you. You're the new girl, right?" 

She smiles in surprise, hugging her own notebook. "Yeah, that's me. I'm Wanda. We just moved here from New York-"

You raise a hand in the air and Wanda falls silent in confusion, but you smile gently.

"Why don't you tell me that, and whatever you want, over coffee?"

She blushes very hard, opening her mouth a few times before giving a shy laugh. "S-sure, I like coffee."

You move closer and take out the pen attached to her notebook. You take the cap off with your teeth, and Wanda watches the item with hot cheeks the entire time you are pulling out a sheet of paper and writing your number in her notebook.

As you return the pen, you smile at her. "Don't forget to text, I'm dying to know the end of your story." You tell her, offering a gentle nod before leaving.

Wanda sighs loudly, leaning her back on the lockers. A silly smile fills her face, and she stands for a good few minutes trying to understand what just happened and why her legs are so shaky. 

–//–

You go out for coffee after class on Thursday, and for thirty whole minutes, you try not to stare at the legs exposed by her cheer skirt.

Wanda is so beautiful it hurts, and her near cluelessness only makes her more attractive.

You clear your throat quietly because she is a really very interesting person and you want to know more about her.

You learn that she was born in Sokovia - which explains her delightful accent that distracts you with every word - and that she moved to New York when her parents divorced. She is the younger twin, but not the sister, as her father has another girl named Lorna who is in middle school. It is also Wanda's first time attending school, and when she says this you widen your eyes slightly.

"Are you kidding me?" You question pushing the coffee creamer with your straw, she laughs lightly.

"No, I swear." She assures you humorously, mimicking your movements without realizing it in her own drink. "My dad is the overprotective type, and Pietro and I have been homeschooled all our lives. But it's senior year and somehow we managed to convince him that it was an important experience. Pietro wants a scholarship for athletics and I, well, I'd like to do cinema."

You smile. "So you like movies?"

Her face lights up even more. "I love movies! I know it's a very competitive industry, but my dream is to work as a film director! I love writing stories, and it would be so amazing to bring them to the screen and... I'm boring you, aren't I?" she interrupts, her cheeks a little red. "Sorry, I get too excited-"

"No, you're not." You interrupt her, "I like hearing you talk, go ahead."

Wanda blushes, even more, lowering her embarrassed gaze to her own lap before smiling shyly.

She tells you more about her dream of being a filmmaker, and about her family not liking the idea of her not pursuing a more secure career, and you make a point of encouraging her to do what she likes and not what others think is right, and Wanda is so flustered she hardly knows how to thank you.

You realize that it is getting late, and if you don't come back now, your father will probably find a new problem to discuss, so you tell Wanda that you have to go. She seems sad about this ending, and yet is still too shy to call you out on anything else. When she builds up the courage to do so, you think your heart won't hold out from all the cuteness.

"We could... I don't know, have tea? Or soda?" She invites clumsily, and you laugh softly just enough to make the redness of her cheeks worse.

Finishing putting on your jacket, you retort:

"I have a better idea, filmmaker girl. Want to go over to the house for Netflix&Chill?" 

It's a test or a joke with real intent, and Wanda falls right in. 

"Of course! I have like a dozen recommendations, and we could watch something by Kubrick or maybe Burton..."

You bite your lip, you're the one who fell. For her, and it was in the blink of an eye.

"Sure, Wanda, any movie you want." That's what you answer, deciding to keep the not going to be much-watching part to yourself.

–//–

Wanda lived on the edge of Westview, which meant that you could use the subway. But part of you wanted to impress her, so when Bucky let you use his motorcycle, you didn't miss your chance.

"Don't scratch it." He repeated the instructions, the key at face height. You raised your hand to take it, and he lifted the item a little further. "And what's our deal?"

You rolled your eyes. "Three hours out of the house for you to have a date night with my father. I could sue you for the trauma." You joked making him laugh before you managed to steal the key.

"Just text me when you're on your way. And please-"

"No scratches." You completed with an impatient sigh.

While your stepfather had his date night with your dad - whom you were avoiding as much as possible mainly because the deadline for sending admission letters was coming up and you had no idea what you were going to do and didn't want him pressing ideas on you - you made your way across town to see Wanda Maximoff and her stupidly adorable face.

Just as you imagined, she was excited by your arrival on the motorcycle, equally so from Pietro who started asking you questions as soon as you properly introduced yourself, but you noticed that Wanda's father was not too happy.

"You must be Y/N." He said as soon as Wanda guided you to the fancy balcony like all the rest of the house and the well-molded garden.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Maximoff." You spoke, which made him chuckle slightly.

"Actually it's Lehnsherr, Maximoff is their mother's maiden name." He clarified, and you feigned interest, nodding softly. 

"Papa, Y/N, and I are going to watch a movie in my room." Said the girl - She was wearing a long sweatshirt and shorts that disappeared with the garment covering it, and you were having a hard time trying to not imagine what it would be like to slide your hand under there. 

Erik looked you up and down as if he could read all your naughty intentions at once.

"Open door always, Wanda." He warned with his arms crossed, and Wanda chuckled confusedly, pulling you by the hand toward her bedroom.

You heard Erik ask Pietro questions about you, but your gaze was more attentive to the movement of Wanda's hips leading upstairs.

"Your house is quite beautiful, Wanda." You comment once she leads you into the bedroom. "Not as beautiful as the owner, of course."

She giggles embarrassed at the compliment, and you take the opportunity to kick the door discreetly shut. "Come sit here, I've set everything up for us."

She did, you could see the laptop, the drinks, and the popcorn. A proper movie session with Wanda in her fancy room, and you sighed lightly as you took off your shoes and jacket to sit on the bed next to her.

"What movie did you pick for us, pretty girl?" Your compliments were visually making her flustered, but she still said nothing, adjusting herself on the bed to reach for her laptop. "I was thinking of watching some classic, so I've sorted out some options for us."

She showed you a list that made you smile warmly. All the movies were good, but none had what you wanted to do with Wanda.

"I have a better suggestion, and I'm sure you've never seen this one." You told her as you moved the laptop to your own lap to search. She tried to peek, and you pulled away with a laugh. "No peeking, it's a surprise."

She laughed, shaking her head but holding herself in place. " All right."

"You're Jewish, right?" Your question surprised her a little, but she murmured in agreement the next second. You noticed many things on the way to her room, including the Jewish items that filled the blanks in your head about what you knew about the girl next to you. "Another reason for you to love this movie."

"So mysterious." She murmured humorously getting a soft chuckle from you. Once you had chosen and the start credits began to roll, Wanda bit her lip curiously. "What's it about?"

You crossed your ankles together. "Temptation." 

Wanda looked at you. "What?"

"Watch the movie, movie girl." You retorted amused and she chuckled softly before turning her attention back to the screen.

For the first few minutes of Disobedience, Wanda was a little upset. The story is sad in its complexity, and dealt with the fanatical religious obsession of a Jewish community and the harm to the protagonists' freedom. And at first, she didn't catch what the film was really about.

She thought it was sweet that you had brought a movie about her family's religion until the first kissing scene made her cheeks blush.

"Oh, they were a couple..." The words escape you before she can count them, and you lick your lips to contain your own anxiety.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Your whisper is curious in totality, and Wanda laughs in confusion, taking her gaze off the screen.

"What? No, of course not." She retorts, turning her attention back to the film. " They are sweet. I mean, the story is sad as hell, but they're sweet."

You smile, a relief filling your chest. You are about to make a comment when the door opens, and the moody figure of Erik appears.

"I told you I wanted the door open." He reminisces as Wanda pauses the movie.

"Sorry, papa, it must have closed with the wind." She half-heartedly clarifies, and you bite your tongue to hold back the impatient sigh of having your moment interrupted. 

"I have a dinner with the Congress people now, I just came to say good night, dear. And please don't delay Miss Rogers' stay here too long, driving late at night is dangerous."

You are about to say you will go as soon as the movie is over when Wanda comments:

"She could sleep here." And Erik hesitates just as you do. Wanda swallows dryly. "If you want to, of course. What if it's okay with you, papa?"

You have trouble hiding your smile, and Erik looks ready to make up an excuse when his cell phone rings. He sighs impatiently.

"Sure, we have a guest room. Good night to you." He says before answering the phone and leaving the room, talking about work until his voice fades from the distance.

Wanda leaves the movie paused, a confused expression on her face.

"He's acting so weird. This bed is big enough, why would I put you on the other side of the house?"

You stare at her and give an impressed laugh when you realize that Wanda simply doesn't know why.

"Wanda, your father doesn't want me to sleep in the same bed as you."

She frowns in confusion, "Why?"

You tilt your head. "He thinks we're going to fu-"

"Hey, I'm going at Quill's, can you cover for me if Dad asks for me when he gets back from his fancy dinner?" Pietro interrupts your speech as he enters the room, already holding the keys to the white pickup truck you've seen him drive a few times to school. Wanda blinks away from your intense gaze, a bit flustered.

"S-sure, Pietro, good night." She says very quickly, and the other looks between you and her with a suggestive expression.

"You two behave yourselves, huh? Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He teases, and Wanda grimaces. You chuckle.

"Sure thing, mary jane." You retort without hesitation and Pietro stops smiling at that instant. Wanda doesn't understand and probably doesn't know that Pietro smokes pot behind the gyms, and so before she can question the nickname, Pietro is muttering goodbye as he leaves the room.

"What was that...?" She asks but you shake your head, giving the movie a play.

"Let's keep watching, it's getting to the best part." Wanda sighs a little as you adjust and stay close enough for her to smell your perfume completely, effectively taking all attention away from the movie.

But she had to pay attention when the first moans started. In an instant, her cheeks burned, and Wanda tried to look as cool about it as she could.

You were tapping your fingers on your stomach, completely at ease with the intimate scene playing out on the screen in front of you, and it is impossible for Wanda to do the same.

Once she shifts uncomfortably, and you notice her clenching her thighs, you sigh.

"How was your first kiss?" Your question almost makes her choke, but Wanda is thankful that at least she has an excuse to look away from the movie's sex scene.

"Hum, I've never..."

"Really?" You cut her off gently, adjusting your weight on her arm to face her, and Wanda feels very nervous about all the attention. She nods, and you smile. "It's really hard to believe you didn't have a line of suitors."

Wanda chuckles embarrassedly, shaking her head. "Well, I don't know many people, you know? It's not like I had classmates studying at home. And when I wasn't studying, I was at some officional event, being my dad's perfect little girl."

The hidden bitterness in her sentence made you raise an eyebrow softly, the interest burning in your mind. 

"I know the feeling, my father is a military man and loves to keep up appearances." You say, quietly closing the laptop in Wanda's lap. "But unlike you, I do whatever it takes to annoy him."

"Very naughty of you." She mutters half breathlessly because you are leaning over her suddenly. But it's only to put the closed laptop on the nightstand, and once you notice the way Wanda is blushing and breathing out of rhythm, a smile forms on your face.

"Wanda, I would like to be your first kiss." You whisper to her, and instead of pulling away, you rest a hand on the side of her head. "If you want that of course."

She chokes softly but nods almost frantically. "Yeah... I'd like that."

"Let's start with lesson one then. Close your bedroom door." You guide low against her lips, using every mental control to pull yourself away from her. Wanda gasps, but quickly moves in shaky steps off the bed to the bedroom door, and you hide a smile as you tuck yourself into her bed.

She surprises you a little when with trembling fingers, she locks the door.

"Just... for precaution." She clarifies embarrassed about the look on your face, but you just shrug.

"I'm not complaining." You tease. "Come here."

Wanda swallows dryly and wastes no time in obeying, walking back to the bed. She sits down a little further in front of you, and you hold out your hand for her to take, and once she does, you pull her gently to sit on your lap.

Wanda is trembling with nervousness, and her skin is warm to the touch. You lick your lips, trying to control yourself and not grab her right there and kiss and fuck her until she can't remember her own name, and it takes a lot of willpower when she looks so good all over you.

"You've never really kissed anyone, not even a small peck?" You ask sweetly, bringing your hand to her cheek for her to look at you. When she denies it with her head, you move closer. "Give me a peck then." She does so on the spot, and it's quick as expected, but it turns her cheeks into tomatoes. You smile, "Again. Longer this time."

She sighs, but nods and breaks the distance, pressing her lips over yours. 

Instead of letting go, you place your hand on her cheek and kiss her back firmly, eliciting a surprised and affected sigh in return. She opens her mouth to breathe, and you slide your tongue inside.

Wanda makes a noise with her throat, moving restlessly in your lap but you guide the kiss until she gets used to the sensation and soon her breathless sighs sound like gasping pleas, her hands move to your shoulders and she tries to deepen.

Everything in her body begs for more - more of your hands, squeezing her waist, more of your tongue sucking hers, and more of you, everywhere you can touch. She feels hot and bothered, and it is as new and fantastic as it is overwhelming.

You kiss her until she starts to move her hips impatiently against your thigh, and then you know you have to stop now or you won't be able to pull it off later. The way your heart speeds up when she looks at you with puffy lips and dark eyes once the kiss is over only confirms this.

"Is everything okay?" Wanda speaks first, her voice shaky and husky, her face inches from yours.

You take a deep breath, offering her a small smile.

"Sure, I should just go home." You say, and you are already moving her off of you in the next moment, missing the other's confused look. 

Once you have your shoes on, Wanda can't contain her concern.

"I...I did it wrong didn't I?" 

You frown, turning to her as you put on your jacket. Wanda looks down at her own lap. 

"You didn't do anything wrong, Wanda." You tell her, moving closer again to the end of the bed. "Listen." You say gesturing to her ear, and she is confused for just a second.

Next, she can hear her father outside the house, car noises, and something that sounds like complaints about a canceled dinner.

She looks at you again, and you are already kneeling on the bed to reach for her face.

"I'm just trying to keep you out of trouble." You explain as you caress her cheek. "I can't risk you getting grounded in this fancy mansion when I want to keep taking you out."

Her gaze glows hopeful. "You do?"

You smile, leaning in to kiss her intensely for a moment. "Of course I do." You assure her once you break the kiss, your gaze darkening afterward. "And I also want to come to your room, lie on your bed, and elicit all the delicious sounds you make when I kiss you."

Wanda chokes softly, leaning in to break the distance again, but you haven't offered her more than a peck, earning a grumble in return. "When are you going to kiss me again? For real."

"When do you want to?" you challenge back, and despite the pink of your cheeks, Wanda doesn't hesitate.

"Now."

You chuckle, pulling away. You open the door just before Erik comes up the stairs, and he grimaces, but you are already leaving the room. Before you do, you turn and offer a wink to Wanda, who once she is left in the room alone, sinks her face into her pillows, trying to make her heart stop beating so fast.

–//–

You wanted to take things slow with Wanda because in your experience, too fast burns and wears out at the same speed.

It is, however, quite difficult to keep your eyes off her.

Especially when she looks so irresistible in her cheer uniform.

"You're drooling." Yelena sneers beside you under the bleachers as you both skip chemistry class so she can smoke away from any teacher's attention.

"I definitely am." You retort without any concern, your gaze focused on the brunette from meters away. Yelena laughs dryly, taking a long drag on her cigarette. 

"When are you going to make it official?"

"Why, so we can end up like Nat and Carol, fighting about the damn weather." You retort half impatiently, and Yelena hesitates a moment. She puffs smoke before answering.

"Carol cheated on Nat." She declares, and you gasp in surprise, looking at your friend with wide eyes. She shrugs her shoulders. "It was with a girl from State, at last year's championship. Nat tried to forgive her, but it''s been the same since summer. They're not fighting because of the weather, they're fighting because they're lying to each other."

You bite your tongue, turning your gaze back to Wanda in the field. She looks beautiful and giggles excitedly with her teammates when she gets her steps right.

"That doesn't make me feel confident about your suggestion, Lena." You murmur to her, and Yelena laughs lightly, taking one last drag before throwing the cigarette on the ground. 

"Not every relationship sucks, Y/N." She begins. "Not everyone gets divorced like your parents, and not everyone cheats like my sister's girlfriend. Just look at me and Kate. I fucking love her, and I can't wait for us to be living in the same apartment."

You smile small. "I never said I loved anyone."

Yelena rolls her eyes, laughing softly. "It's in your face. And look where you are, simping over her while skipping class instead of doing anything else."

It's your turn to roll your eyes, a soft pink filling your cheek at being caught. "Shut up or I'll tell Kate you're looking for a place without her help."

Yelena laughs, "And I'll tell Maximoff that you're a stalker."

You grunt impatiently, leaving muttering that the field is a free-for-all, and missing the way Wanda looks through the rails to where you were sitting before.

As the weeks went by, and with the clear yet casual involvement between you, it was obvious to everyone how much influence you had in each other's lives.

You started showing up to more classes, and Wanda stole your leather jacket for her and learned to say no to her father when you learned to show up at family dinners.

She borrowed your clothes with the excuse that they smelled like you, and you brought home her classic DVDs almost every weekend.

And there was also a matching set of hickeys on your necks.

"Wanda, your father looks ready to blow up this car." You reminded her with a breathless giggle against her lips - because she insisted that you kiss her properly - before you dropped her off at home. She grunted impatiently, grabbing your chin so that you would take your attention away from the man with his arms crossed in the driveway, and focus on the girl sitting in the car seat gifted by your father after you said you had sent admission letters to colleges not so far from Wanda.

"I want to ask you something." She says, kissing you again briefly. "Do you want to sleep over at my place this weekend?"

You hum, kissing her again before retorting, "Is it some special occasion?"

She smiles, shaking her head. "Just missing you. And... it's the race finals weekend, so Dad and Pietro are traveling and we'll have the house to ourselves."

You choke softly, caught by surprise that it is Wanda suggesting such a thing. But she seems genuinely naive about it, waiting for your response. 

"Hmm, and what would we do with the house to ourselves...?" You tease, rubbing your nose against hers and Wanda chuckles shyly, one hand going up to your neck.

"I suppose whatever we want." She replies, and you smile before kissing her again, this time goodbye.

–//–

It seemed to take a lifetime, but the weekend finally arrived.

Wanda doesn't know why she was so nervous. You had been alone before, between classes, at movie screenings, at snack bars, or bowling alleys.

But then she remembered the feeling of your lips pressing against hers, the panting whispers that made her skin itch, and the way her knees gave way when your hands got bold and she guessed she knew very well why.

She prepares a typical movie session, all the food, and comfy pillows, and you praise her for her dedication before pressing her against the bedroom door.

Wanda loves those hungry kisses - they heat up her body like a furnace, and always leave her wanting more. And today you seem willing to give her as much as she needs.

Your mouth parted from hers only to trail along her jaw, marking your way down and Wanda already panting, threw her head back against the wood, shivering under your rough touch around her body.

"I drove all the way down here thinking about kissing you, princess." You confess huskily against her ear, and Wanda blushes heavily, a low moan escaping her throat. "You're making me crazy, Wanda. I can't stop thinking about you."

"I think about you too." She confesses equally affected, only to gasp when you press a knee between her legs and everything burns, and she can't control the sounds that escape from there, not when you move your hands to her waist and make her grind against your thigh next. "Oh. That feels so nice..." She whimpers overwhelmed by the sensations, and you gently bite the sensitive spot on her neck.

"If you want something, you're going to have to ask for it." You whisper, and Wanda moans in response, her nails digging into your arms.

"Please, Y/N. I just need...you to touch me." She tries with her cheeks burning as much as the rest of her body, her hips never failing against your thigh and making you shiver.

"I'm all over you, pretty girl." You tease back, meeting her gaze and swallowing Wanda's breathless moans with your mouth with each movement of her hips. "Unless you want me to touch you somewhere else..."

"You know I want to." She retorts naughtily, and to that, you bite her lip, a gentle tug that makes her choke on a moan.

"Don't be a smart-ass." You warn, sliding a hand to her thigh to pull it up, and the adjustment makes Wanda see stars. "You can't even tell me to fuck your pussy."

She whimpers at the teasing, closing her eyes and throwing her forehead against your shoulder. You laugh smugly as the wetness begins to stain your pants.

"Baby, please..." She whimpers again, urging her body against you. Her hips are out of rhythm, and the covered stimulation is delicious, but still not enough. She just needs some kind of push that you seem to know what it is and won't grant her. 

Instead of answering her, you grab her neck and kiss her hard, adjusting your body to hers until Wanda feels a hardness and jerks up with a surprised, affected squeal.

"It's a gift that I bought especially for you. if you're ready for it, of course." You clarify breathlessly, and she nods immediately, interlacing her hands behind your neck. But you kiss her slowly now and move your other hand down to lift Wanda between the door and your lap so that she now grinds directly against the strap instead of your thigh. She gasps in a whimper, meeting your eyes again as you break the kiss. " Fuck, you're so close and I haven't even touched you yet."

You were absolutely right. The knot in Wanda's belly was ready to explode at any moment, and when you slid your hand down to open your zipper, and the fake cock slipped out, the new pressure made Wanda growl hornily, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

You didn't penetrate her, letting her grind her covered intimacy against the toy until the moisture was enough to wet it. By now Wanda was jerking, holding you by the shoulders as you moved your hips against her. The strap pressed against her clit, sliding in a torturous back and forth over her covered pussy, and you seemed to be having the time of your life driving her to the brink of insanity with that tease.

"Y/N-fuck-I want-need it... inside-ah" She tried, delirious with anticipation, ever so close, and you panted softly in her ear.

"I love it when you cuss, it's so hot." You praise, slowing down and making Wanda moan loudly, her clit throbbing. "If you can ask me what you want, I'll do it."

Wanda whimpers affectedly, her cheeks blushing again. She is almost building up courage when you curse in her ear trapped in your own pleasure, and she is cumming instead of saying anything.

It is an overwhelming pleasure, almost terrifying her. She grabs you to keep from falling to the floor, dripping onto her panties. You grunt as you realize what has just happened and only give Wanda time to stop shaking before you get down on your knees.

"Babe, what are you...?" She falls silent as she chokes on her own breath, throwing her head back hard as her hips try to escape from your hands that hold her just for that. You press your nose against her covered intimacy, sniffing with a loud groan as Wanda whimpers. You don't give her time to complain before you move a hand to push the fabric away and sink your tongue into her.

Wanda practically screams, and you groan as you taste her. You fuck her messily, hungrily as you take your tongue between the folds of her pussy, pushing deep and then shallow to make her twitch, and when you suck on her clit she brings a hand to her hair.

"Oh-OH-blyat', tak khorosho!" Wanda gasps, and you groan as you hear her cursing in another language. It just encourages you to keep going, and this time, you won't stop until you get it out of her again. 

It didn't take long - Wanda was sensitive and you only had to slide your tongue inside and suck her clit a few times for her to spill into your mouth with a long moan, her nails digging into your scalp. You moaned too, delighting in her taste and licking her clean before making your way up again.

"That was..." She tries breathlessly, her eyes lazy, and you smile, kissing her and making her grunt for her own taste before turning into a surprised yelp when you take her by the thighs and lift her onto your lap.

"We're not done, pretty girl." You clarify between kisses on the way to the bed. When you place Wanda on the mattress, her hair spreads across the pillow and she stares at you with dark eyes, her chest heaving. You pause, momentarily speechless as you realize how much you care for her.

"Everything okay?" She asks at your hesitation, and you smile immediately, nodding and moving closer to kiss her with intensity. Wanda melts, trying to pull you up but you gently push her by the shoulders.

She thinks to question, but your hand traces its way between her thighs and any question becomes an affected whimper.

"The toy is small, but I still need to stretch you with my fingers." You whisper with a naturalness that doesn't match the way Wanda blushes heavily. She merely nods, shivering under your fingers scratching and teasing around the inner part of her thighs. "You'll tell me if it hurts, won't you, pretty girl?"

She nods frantically, choking softly. "Y-yes, but please, just..." The teasing was driving her insane, your fingers only touching around, never where she desperately needed it. "Please, Y/N, touch me."

You shushed her gently, kissing the corner of her mouth and then her jaw, and when you got to her neck and started sucking on the sensitive spots that made her squirm on the bed, your fingers find her intimacy and penetrated her.

Wanda whimpered, closing her eyes tightly to the invasion. One at first, and then you slid out, and when you came back, two sank into her and she bit your shoulder.

"Tell me when you're ready." You whispered into her neck, moving your thumb to stimulate her clitoris, and Wanda throbbed beneath you. After two orgasms, she was really quite sensitive, but that only made it better. "Wands?"

She sighed, opening her eyes to find your worried ones. Instead of answering, she brought one hand to your cheek and another to the wrist connected between you. She brought your lips together at the same time she moved her hips, and you took the cue, sliding your fingers out and then in to find a rhythm.

Wanda whimpered once you got it, with each thrust she gasped at the kiss becoming harder to return, but once you felt her close again, you stopped.

She grunted confused and annoyed, but you adjusted before she could say anything, and any complaint broke down into an affected moan as you lined up the strap on her and sank in at once.

"Ah, I knew you could take it, pretty girl." You praised her, in a slow rhythm against her as Wanda squirmed and dug her nails into your back, desperate for more. "Damn, you look so beautiful now."

Wanda's moans mingled with the sounds of the thrusts inside her, the wetness of her pussy creating a delicious friction. You firmed your hands on her waist, pushing deeper, and she arched her back, ready to fall over the edge. You fell over her, hugging her and kissing the skin of her exposed collarbone, and Wanda whimpered, moaning under you.

She let out a little squeal, and her body tensed and you gasped against her neck as you came too, your juices mixing and dripping down her thighs.

You stood there for a moment, just breathing against each other as you calmed from your climax, and you smiled as you felt Wanda draw patterns on your back.

Unhurriedly, you moved off her, biting your lips at the image of the soaked toy and the sigh that left her lips as she felt empty before you pulled away.

Wanda looks at you expectantly at once, missing your body on top of her.

"Where are you going?" She asks in a half-hoarse voice, but you smile, now standing in front of the bed, you begin to remove your pants.

"You came three times and we didn't even get to take our clothes off. I'm kind of impressed."  You humorously clarify, and Wanda giggles shyly, biting her lips as you take off your clothes in front of her. "How would you like to take a shower with me? And then, lend me something comfy so we can watch the movie you've picked up?"

She finds it incredible, honestly, but once you are completely naked in front of her, Wanda can only sigh and move closer again. She brings a hand to your neck and kisses you hard.

"Later. Now, I want you to do that thing with your tongue again." She asks with a sigh and well, it's not like you're going to complain.

–//–

You awoke to rays of sunlight on your face and a warm feeling on the tip of your stomach.

"Wands...oh...don't stop that." Your natural instinct was to call out to her, but it turned into something like a moan and a sigh as you felt the pleasure electrify your whole body at once. Wanda smiled against you, looking up at you as her hands held your thighs open for her. You squirmed on the mattress, barely finding time to grab her hair before you cum hard on her tongue. "Fuck, baby, that was amazing."

She giggles softly against you, kissing your thighs before moving up your body until she finds your mouth again. It takes a moment for you to recover from the orgasm and wake up properly, but when you do, your hands go around her and you spin Wanda around on the bed, getting on top quickly as she smiles.

"You're a fast learner." You comment against her jaw, tracing kisses downward. "I don't think I've ever cum so fast before..."

But suddenly, Wanda tenses and your hand guides your face back to her.

"I don't want to think about it." She says almost irritated, and you frown in confusion, "You with other people."

A smile breaks on your lips. " Hmm, is that right?"

But Wanda doesn't smile, sliding her legs between yours to switch positions and push you on your back on the bed, straddling your lap the next minute. Her hands at the side of your head, and her hair makes a curtain between your faces.

"I want you to be mine, Y/N. As I am yours." She whispers hoarsely, her gaze intense on yours. You blink impressed but are smiling.

"And who says I'm not already?" You challenge back, moving your hands to her hips and enjoying the feel of her intimacy against your thigh. Her breasts look incredible like this too, covered only by the half-open shirt of yours that she must have stolen during the night.  

Wanda studies your face as she risks, "You never made us official, I thought..."

You bring a hand to her cheek as she lowers her head in shame. "Wands, and who says labels are the only thing that makes us official?"

Wanda shrugs, looking away, "I don't know, it's just that the cheer girls have their partners, and they're always talking about going to college together or buying apartments and-"

You straighten up, sitting up and pulling her closer.

"We'll do all that if that's what you want." You tell her with sincerity. "We'll go to NYU together, and rent an apartment. And I'll buy you a shiny ring so everyone will know we're together."

Wanda smiles, blushing as she wraps her arms around you.

"But what do you want?"

You smile warmly, brushing your nose against hers. "Sweetheart, I just want you." You retort caressing her skin. "I don't care about social norms, I just want to be able to kiss and wake up with you every day. If you want a ring, let's buy a ring. If you want to meet me in secret so as not to upset your father, I'll accept that too."

Wanda chuckles softly, pecking your jaw and then your lips.

"There's no way I'm keeping you a secret, you're the best thing that ever happened to me." She confesses and you kiss her, again and again until she starts to heat up on you, breathless whispers leaving her lips with each kiss. 

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me too, Wands." You retort to her before deepening the next kiss, and this time, you don't stop.

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Congrats on the followers my friend!! You deserve all of them and many more!

I'd like to request a little something with Javier Peña, with the prompt "I can't stop thinking about you" (from dialogue prompts to make readers swoon). I'll let you decide how sweet or spicy it is, just however it strikes you. 😘

Thank you, and congrats again!!

Oh my gosh, JEN!!!! I love you so much! I hope you enjoy this slow-burn, sprinkling-of-angst-with a happy ending!

Here is a sweet "confessional" story for Javier x female DEA agent under the cut!!

The bar was half-empty, or half-full, you weren’t quite sure. And maybe it didn’t matter anyway, since you only had eyes for the man with the mustache across the table from you. He stubbed out his 5th (or was it 6th?) cigarette of the night into the amber glass ashtray on the table. You watched him purse those perfect lips and blow the stream of smoke up and away from the booth. His coffee-brown eyes came back to yours, the depths of them muted in the blue neon lights. You stared just a beat too long, and then blinked.

You shifted your attention to the table and stirred the last of your drink with your straw, watching the half-melted ice swirl in a lazy circle. Maybe tonight you would tell him how you felt. You lifted your eyes just in time to see Javier turn his head away from you to watch a very attractive woman walk by. He followed her with his eyes until she was out the front door.

Maybe not.

Javier turned back to you and waved over your head at the waitress for another round.

“You really want to stay?” You couldn’t hide the little bladed edge of irritation in your voice. Whether you stayed at the bar or not, you didn’t want to be around Javier any longer than you had to. You saw enough of him at work, and you weren’t interested in being his ‘pity date’ on a Friday night just because Steve couldn’t make it out for drinks.

Javier frowned at you, “I thought we were supposed to be celebrating tonight, amiga. Big win with the arrest warrant this week, remember? Why are you so cranky?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, and then rubbed your tired eyes. “It’s been a long week, and I just don’t feel very festive tonight. Okay?”

The waitress brought your drinks and Javier tossed a few bills on her tray. You picked up your third drink (fourth?) and watched Javier watch the waitress walk away. You downed your drink in record time and stood. “Right, I’m going home.”

“Already? We just got here.”

You snapped, “No, you just got here, I’ve been here all night, watching you watch other women. Not as much fun for me as it was for you. I’m done.”

You made for the ladies room and peed, then sat there for an extra two minutes, hoping that Javi would be gone by the time you got back out. You only got up when another woman needed the stall. You washed your hands as slowly as you dared, then dried them carefully and reapplied your lip balm at a snail’s pace. The face in the mirror looking back at you was your own, just sadder and more tired than you had seen her in a while.

When you finally emerged, Javier was right there waiting for you. He was leaning back against the wall opposite the ladies room, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle. Anyone who didn’t know him well would have thought he looked casual. You knew he was pissed off. The moment you swung the ladies room door open and stepped out, his dark eyes were on yours. It took your breath away, just for a moment, but that was long enough for him to unfold himself and take your upper arm in his strong grip.

“I’ll make sure you get home safe. I can’t let you travel home this late by yourself, Agent.” Agent. Fuck, he really was pissed.

You didn’t argue, partly because you knew he was in that mood, and partly because of the sensation of his hand, large and warm, wrapped firmly around your arm just above your elbow. It wasn’t painful, but something about feeling how strong his hands were, how he gripped you sent your mind running to the same places it had been running to for months.

Javier propelled you out of the bar to his car, opening the front passenger side door and standing like a sentry until you were tucked in and belted, then he closed the door with a pop. Neither one of you spoke until he parked the car on the ground floor of the garage at the DEA apartment block. Your apartment was just down the hall from Steve and Connie, two floors up from Javier. It was cozy, mostly. Nice to have neighbors who you already knew. Not nice when someone had a crush on someone else and couldn’t avoid them.

Javier turned the engine off and broke the silence first, “I’ll walk you to your door.”

You bit your lips together and nodded, sucking in a deep breath through your nose. Bad idea. The smell of Javier settled deep in your sinuses and stayed there: his cologne and cigarettes and the breath mint he was chewing, and something uniquely him, all of them mixing and intensified in the still air of the car. You blew the long breath out through your mouth and it took most of your hurt feelings with it.

You turned to him but you both spoke at the same time and chaos reigned for a moment.

“Why didn’t you want me looking at-”

“I’m sorry, Javi, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, you go first-”

“No, you can- Wait, what?”

Normally you would have laughed together and cleared the air, one of you deferring to the other to speak first. This time there was something tense. You had been on the verge of apologizing for snapping at him, a means of smoothing things over while sweeping your own discomfort under the rug. You’d hoped that if you could apologize for being sharp, you could get back to ‘normal’ and just be work partners. Like how it was before your heart got in the way. You thought maybe if you just did that enough, buried everything deeply enough, Javier would never guess how you felt.

And if Javier had been any other man, that might have worked. But he wasn’t the type to feign shyness to help ease your own shyness. Another man might have chuckled and looked away from you, played with his hands on the steering wheel to pass a few awkward seconds. Javier used those deep brown eyes to pierce your defenses and asked you the direct question you had been dreading since your outburst at the bar.

“Why didn’t you want me to look at other women?”

You paused, keeping your breathing even. You blinked a few times but you didn’t look away.

“I don’t care. Look at whoever you want. It’s none of my business.” A lie. And he knew it. And worse yet, you knew that he knew it.

“No amiga, you do care. Or at least you did half an hour ago.” You hated how intense he could be, so calm on the outside while he drew secrets out of panicked people via interrogation. “What is it that you don’t want me to know? What are you not telling me?”

“Nothing.” You put a hard backing to your next words. “Drop it.”

You turned and opened your door, not waiting for Javier to follow as you speed-walked from his car across the parking garage. You slammed through the door to the lobby and took the stairs two at a time to your floor, telling yourself it was necessary exercise, part of staying in shape for foot chases… not avoidance, not the fear of facing Javier and telling him your embarrassing truth. You heard his footsteps land a moment behind yours, and you didn’t bother holding the stairwell door for him. He caught it on the backswing and was just a step behind you as you approached your door.

“I can get inside from here just fine. Good night.” You spoke your words to the keys in your hand, to your doormat, anywhere but to him.

He reached a hand out to hold your wrist, and it was the most gentle touch he had ever laid on you. It matched his low murmur of, “Hey. Wait…”

You turned to face him, and you opened your mouth to repeat the lies, the denials, to try to say something that would brush over tonight’s embarrassment with a clean sweep and let you face yourself and him in the morning. But the look on his face, the way his eyes were soft instead of probing, the whisper of his touch on your wrist when normally he was rough with his high fives and his handshakes… suddenly your voice didn’t work.

Javier looked at you the way that you had hoped for months that he would look at you, but it wasn’t how you wanted this to go. This painful reveal of innermost secrets and feelings. You wanted him to want you, to be bowled over by you, not to pity you or treat you like an idiot. But still, that look on his face, it struck something deep within you and you decided that you would take that look however you could get it.

You opened your mouth to speak and so did Javier, but this time instead of speaking at cross purposes, instead of a jumble of words tumbling into each other, you both said the exact same thing...

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Heat rose in your face at your own admission, at your absolute sureness that he would peel away from you, be upset at you for feeling too much, but the minute you realized his own words had matched yours, you felt the heat in your face ebb away, and before you could process it, before you could think, Javier mumbled a quick, “Fuck it,” and then his hand was on your waist and you were being pulled into his arms and you just went limp and let him kiss you.

The instant his second kiss landed, your brain came back to life and you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him as deeply as you could, not breaking off even when your next-door neighbor’s apartment door opened, not when it closed again with a soft bang, and not until you felt Javier’s erection grazing your hip.

You finally broke the kiss, breathing out a high-pitched, “Inside?”

Javier grabbed you firmly around the waist and pulled you tighter. “Inside.” His voice was nearly a growl, and you felt your panties get hot and wet.

You took Javier inside your apartment, slamming the door behind you. And you finally confessed everything, with your lips and your body and your legs wrapped around him until the small hours of the morning.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Can u write a small fic where a female intern is flirting shamelessly with ethan and he is completely unaware of it😂😂(well his mind is actually not on her but on lilac he just pretends to listen😂🤣) and lilac sees this sets intern in her place(they r married at that point) and it is only fair if lilac is also jealous😛

Autograph

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x f!MC  (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 800 Warning: language   

It isn't until the roaring of the blender comes to a complete stop that Ethan realizes someone has been talking to him this whole time. Although, in all honesty, his distraction had nothing to do with the crowded, bustling coffeehouse and everything to do with the picture coming into his phone's inbox. Lilac's beautiful face contorted into the most ridiculous expression, one Ethan always pretends to mock even when it leaves him glowing with contentment. 

“Dr. Ramsey?” a voice says next to him. 

It's a short, blonde intern he remembers from rounds that morning. At least, he thinks it's the same one he is remembering. They all blend together into a swirl of terrified faces at this point. 

The blonde smiles coyly, parting her lips deliberately, her posture straightening. 

Ethan is unmoved, teetering on the edge of impatience. 

“Dr. Ramsey,” she repeats, his name uttered with the cadence of a breathless murmur. It  almost drowns in the clattering background, forcing him to strain to hear her. 

Ethan is already annoyed. 

“Is there something I can do for you, Doctor. Or can it wait until after I'm done enjoying a scrap of peace during my free time?” 

The young intern pouts her lips and, to Ethan's dismay, she doesn't look offended or discouraged. Instead, she produces a hardcover book from her bag, holding it up to Ethan like an of offering to a vengeful god. 

When he peers down at it, he can see it's a brand new copy of his book, complete with plastic wrap and price tag. 

“I was wondering if you could sign my book?” She makes her voice deliberately melodious, no doubt thinking it irresistible. 

“No.”

This does give her pause. 

“What? But—” 

“I don't do autographs.”

The brash intern opens her mouth as though to argue. Ethan waits, almost stunned with disbelief, though his face betrays nothing. Maybe Lilac is right (as always) and he was going soft. No intern who valued their job or their dignity would have dared challenged him years ago. 

Well, except maybe one. 

“Don't take it personally,” a soft voice says from a few feet away, sending every nerve ending in his body into high alert. “The last time he autographed someone's book, the person just gave it away as if it were a Nicholas Sparks novel.”

Ethan readies a stern, disapproving glare but the sight of Lilac, looking fiercely irresistible in an elegant and rather form fitting pant suit, easily inspires a fond smile instead. Lilac, on the other hand, is far from smiling, sending a cool, assessing look at the puzzled intern. 

“It was an overall traumatic experience for him so he doesn't do them anymore.”

Ethan narrows his eyes at her when their gazes finally meet. This brightens her expression with amusement, the hard edge of her features softening considerably as she gives him a charming little smile. 

“I don't under—” the befuddled intern begins. 

The words halt abruptly, however, because at that very moment, Lilac settles into his side, her arm encircling his waist, her body fitting like a puzzle piece against his. Green eyes glance up to meet his from behind those cute spectacles she started wearing a few years back, her cheeks glowing the prettiest shade of pink from the mid October chill. Pulse affluter, he decides he cannot resist another second without kissing her in greeting. 

The intern, whom Ethan had forgotten about, lets out a surprised squeak. 

“Dr. Ramsey, I didn't know you were—” 

“Married?” He doesn't hide the irritation at being interrupted. “Happily so. A fact you could have discovered with a modicum of research before deciding to flirt with one of your attendings.”

The intern clutches the book to her chest, mortified. In the end, she escapes back to Edenbrook, dignity in shreds. 

“You are quite the celebrity, Dr. Ramsey, ” Lilac teases, exaggerating the intern's breathy tone. 

The tiny space around them tightens with customers and Ethan pulls her close in front of him. 

“Are you jealous, Dr. Allende?” 

“Yes,” she returns without hesitation. “I'm big enough to admit I don't enjoy it when my husband gets hit on with my own autograph move.”

Ethan laughs. 

Hands at the dip of her waist, he leans in to whisper, “So are you finally admitting you were hitting on me that day?” 

“In your dreams, Dr. Ramsey. ” 

She is taunting him again, her voice an alluring, breathy murmur. Hearing it from her in that sexy, dark whisper, has his skin humming like an exposed wire. 

“Say it again.”

“Your name?” 

“Yes. The same way you just did.”

She gives him a devilish little smirk, eyes glinting in the gold lighting of the coffee shop. Her voice is a lush whisper, barely audible over the blenders, but Ethan leans in to catch every word. 

“No. I only call you that at work,” she begins casually. Then her voice plunges dangerously. “Or in bed.”

Ethan groans. 

The barista calls out their order, completely breaking the spell. 

“Come on,” she says with a laugh, tugging at his hand. “We only have twenty minutes of lunch left. For now, I'll have to keep you awake and alert with good coffee.”

A/N: Again, a little piece of nothingness. Thank you anon for this. And also, other anons (old and new) I am working on a few of your requests! (Coming up are the Ethan with the kids request, the parent jealousy request, and Naveen with a neighbor request from months ago)

Thank you for reading! 

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Open Heart- Ethan x f!MC Only

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Unsorted tags (Assumed Ethan x MC)

*Please message me if you want to be moved or removed <3

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@emotionalswift2,  @lion-ess24,  @forcverandalways 

[kuroos-moon]

xvii. “Oikawa’s Worst Nightmare” • Two

Smau Masterlist

Written Part

Wc: 2.2 k words

7:43 PM 

“I am so sorry love, wake up for me, yeah?” He puts on a sad smile, he wanted to hold your hand but he felt too undeserving to do so. How could he hold you when he caused this? “I’ll be better next time, I’ll be my best, I’ll do anything for you,” he promises, his eyes holding so much pain as they looked at you, he just felt so responsible for what happened to you.

Oikawa sat on a not so comfortable chair beside your bed, scanning the bandage on your head, the light purple bruise on your right cheekbone and the slight scratches on your arms. He could never forgive himself, not that he wanted for that to happen to you, but he really could’ve tried harder or did something better in order to prevent this right? 

“Y/n,” he mutters under his breath, his voice hoarse from the crying after the match ended. The entire match, he held it in, he held it all in- the pain, his worry, the suffocating guilt, it all made his hands shake and his mind a mess, he knew he sucked so bad during the game. He didn’t care that he looked so pathetic, he didn’t care who had seen his tear stained eyes and heard his sobs- he just bolted, leaving his bag, because he just had to see you. 

He was about to caress your cheek, his fingertips almost touching your skin when he hears someone scoff behind him. Turning around, he sees Kageyama with his arms crossed, a scowl on his face as his eyes sharply glare at Oikawa. 

“I’ll take it from here,” he says, “go home or whatever,” he adds, his tone icy as he approaches Oikawa and stands beside him, waiting for him to get up from the chair. “I’m not going anywhere, Tobio-chan,” he responds without looking away from you, his voice devoid of its usual liveliness. 

“I’ll stay with her,” Oikawa says more firmly when Kageyamas huffs at him. “You have no right to!” He slightly races his voice and immediately winces as he receives a kick on the shin from Oikawa. “I understand the resentment but shut the fuck up Tobio-chan, she’s resting,” he says with a fake sweet smile as he looks up at him. 

“You don’t deserve to be by her side,” he scoffs and Oikawa stands up from his chair to be on eye-level with him. “It’s not like you do either,” Oikawa bites back, his childishness getting the best of him. “If you wanna say something then let’s take this outside, you’ve been enough of a pain for her already,” Kageyama sneers and when Oikawa chuckles at him, he felt like he could punch your boyfriend right there on the spot. 

“If you wanna go outside, do so on your own Tobio-chan, I’ll stay here with y/n,” he says with a sigh, remembering where he was- in your hospital room- he had to be at his best and most mature behavior. He was supposedly done with arguing with the fuming boy but he was caught in surprise when he was yanked by his collar. 

“Drop the act, let me see you crumble Oikawa-san,” he says and Oikawa knew exactly what he was talking about. Tobio saw right through his pretending, there was no way in hell he was okay enough to exchange some petty comebacks with his junior because at any moment he was gonna have a breakdown from all his emotions. “You know you’re not good enough for her, no matter how serious you are with her right now, no matter how much you care, you’ve been really shitty in the past right? You really didn’t approach her with good intentions at first, y/n knew that and accepted you but look at where that got her, Oikawa-san,” he spitefully says in a low voice, “all because of you.” 

Oikawas eyes were slightly wide, Tobio was right, spot-on correct. He was tongue-tied, he knew he couldn’t argue back at that at all. “If you care about her like you say you do, then leave her alone, break up with her or whatever,” but that just drove Oikawa over the edge. Yes he was still unworthy of you, but he knew how much you loved each other and leaving you was totally not the answer. 

“I’ll marry y/n Tobio-chan, I already bought a ring so shut up about it,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance, he understood why Kageyama was mad at him, he was thankful you had such a friend, but to tell him to break up with you? “Face it Tobio, you’re just pathetically using this as an excuse to a drive a wedge between us but that would only make my princess unhappy, I couldn’t possibly do that now can I?” He knew just what to say to piss off the boy.

Blinded by anger, he was about to throw a punch right across Oikawa’s jaw but a firm tug at the back of his collar pulls him away from Toru. “I will throw your asses right out that window,” Iwaizumi glares at the both of them. “If you wanna kill each other then do it outside, I’ll watch over y/n,” he says and the two setters just stand there in silence. “Oh, and Tobio, Hinata’s outside.” 

They both look at Iwaizumi as he approaches you, placing a gentle hand on the top of your head as he shows a soft smile. “I’m sorry you have to be with these idiots,” he mutters and Oikawa could be heard scoffing childishly at the background. They all still when you slowly squint your eyes a few times before they open. 

Oikawa just stares at you with wide eyes, feeling his chest lighten at the sight of you finally waking up. “Iwa,” you say with a smile and you may or may not have seen Iwaizumi’s eyes get glossy as he says, “y/n ever so dramatic, what took you so long to wake up.” And you just chuckle at him. 

You try to push yourself up and instantly grip your head as a short but painful throbbing appears at the area you fell on. Kageyama was quick to move to your side and Iwa respectfully gives space for your best friend. “Tobio!” You say with so much enthusiasm that he just felt so happy. 

“Y/n are you okay? Does it hurt? Should I-” but you cut him off as you wrap your arms around his neck, ignoring the pain at your sides. “Don’t get so worried now, bakaa!” You grin at him as you pull away. You cup his cheeks in your hands and scan his eyes, and as you do so, you feel how hot his skin was against yours. 

“Hey you’re burning up,” you scold as you put your hand on his forehead and he just pulls your hands away and holds them in his. “You feeling okay? Does it hurt anywhere?” He asks and you just shake your head and suddenly remember the events of a while ago- more importantly your beloved Toru’s match. 

“Tobio what time is it? Oh crap the match! Wait Iwa’s here! Where’s Toru?” You panic and immediately go quiet when your eyes land on him. He was standing a few feet behind Iwa, he didn’t know how to react. He may also have felt so small when he saw how happy you were to see Tobio, you both looked too close and familiar with each other that he actually wonders for a second how you managed to choose him. 

“Toru,” you pout as your bottom lip quivers and the three of them immediately panic as you were about to cry. Iwaizumi clears his throat before resting a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder, lightly pushing him outside with him. He wanted to oppose but he’d rather not be here either because he didn’t want to see the both of you together anyway. 

So now you were both alone and he still does not take a step towards you, he didn’t understand himself either. Was it the guilt? Or was it the indescribable feeling he felt as he saw how at home you looked with Kageyama? All thoughts were diminished when he sees you bury you face in your hands.

“Y/n, baby, what’s wrong?” He asks as he swiftly makes it to your side, sitting beside you on the bed. His tenses when you hug his waist, burying your face against his chest; he was surprised, but he soon recovers and hugs you back carefully after that. You both held each other, and he patiently waited for you to finish crying as he strokes your hair. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your match,” you sniffle, pulling away from him and he was left speechless. You were crying about that?! “Y/n what- that’s okay, it doesn’t matter, I was so worried about you,” he tells you and you could hear the pain in his voice. Observing him closely, you notice his puffy eyes and you could tell he had been crying. 

“Y/n please forgive me for Jen, if I wasn’t- well if I hadn’t gotten into anything with her, or if I hadn’t been involved with you-” and you cut him off with a kiss. “If you hadn’t, then neither of us would be this happy,” you say in a stern voice. “Don’t you dare blame yourself Toru, you’ll only make me sad,” you tell him and he bites his tongue to keep himself from saying any more about how sorry he was. 

“Come here,” you sigh as you take in the sight of him, opening up your arms; he was clearly fatigued, and his puffy eyes made your heart ache. He doesn’t refuse your hug at all and practically throws himself at you, hiding his face at the crook of your neck as he allowed himself to be vulnerable, whispering a lot of apologies and promises on how he’d never allow anything to hurt you in any way ever again. 

You feel his shoulders lightly shake as he tried to silence his sobs, though you felt his tears anyway, “you’ve had a rough day,” you sigh as you rub his back soothingly, he had just told you about the match they lost too. He pulls away, a pout on his lips as he looks at your face. “Y/n, I love you, I love you so much, and you- you love me too much and I just wanna thank you, uhm, because you stayed and you make me wanna love everything about life,” he rambles on and you simply hug him again.

“I love you so much, my precious Toru” you whisper the last part as you snuggle against him, oblivious to the fact that hearing you say that made his heart clench with so much love and adoration for you.  

A few minutes later, Iwaizumi and Kageyama head back inside and stop in their tracks the moment they see the both of you. He was still sitting beside you, you had your cheek against his chest, your arms around his waist, and he just held you securely so you wouldn’t fall. “Uh, she fell asleep,” he sheepishly says at the two who had just entered. 

Iwaizumi chuckles at the sight. “You’ll stay the night?” He asks his friend. “Of course, and the doctor told me she could be discharged by tomorrow evening if all goes well,” he smiles as he looks down at you, all cozied up in his arms. 

“Hey Iwa, could you maybe watch her for a bit? I’m starving,” he asks, and Iwa notices how Toru had now let go of whatever guilt and sadness he has been feeling a while ago. He was quite amazed actually, Oikawa had a thick skull, it was hard to pull him away from his thoughts, but with you he believes and does anything. 

“Sure,” Iwa replies and Oikawa carefully tries to tear you off him but you slightly whine, opening your drowsy eyes to look at him. “You’re leaving?” You ask and he chuckles at you. “Of course not princess, I’ll just-” 

“Okay so let’s sleep,” you grumble, tugging at his waist so that he lies down with you. He positions your head on top of his arm and felt so content when you wrap an arm around his torso with your face snuggled into him. “We’ll just eat breakfast together,” he tells Iwaizumi before turning his back so that he was now facing you. 

Without saying another word, Kageyama walks off, he didn’t know if it was even possible but the sight of the two of you that way actually made him feel even sicker. 

“Toru I’ll die if you leave me,” you whisper, barely awake and he just hums in response, trying his best not to fall asleep himself because he wanted to listen to whatever you’d be saying while you were asleep. 

“I’ll wear your jersey some other time.” He chuckles softly, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. He found it so adorable how you’ve been looking forward to wearing his jersey and cheering for him as much as he did. 

“Toru, don’t ever leave,” you say again and when he doesn’t answer, “you’ll never leave my side, right?” You ask and he pauses for a while. 

“I’ll be right by your side at all times y/n,” he assures, kissing your lips for a brief moment. “Now go to sleep and rest up, my love.” 

It had been quite a while since you’ve fallen deeply asleep and he just looks at you, caressing your cheeks lightly with his fingers. “I’ll stay, y/n,” he sighs. “I’ll let go of Brazil for you,” he mutters to himself as he looks away from you and up at the ceiling in thought. 

“Who am I kidding, I’d stay here even if you’d ask me to leave,” he chuckles at his silly self, so deeply in love. He was so sure of you that he had indeed already bought a ring.

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[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 5

Ao3

~^~ For the entire week, Lucas seemed to adjust well.

He knocked on Jens’s door and waited impatiently for Jens to drag himself out of bed before entering. (This might’ve had something to do with the guards, or it could be that Lucas actually was listening to him. Jens could know it was the first and still tell himself the latter.) He’d hesitantly started riding lessons with Sander, and seemed more upset about Jens always accompanying than his less-than-stellar capabilities. He’d taken to the duties of a servant without a hint of hesitation; his hands already knew their way around a stable, a wash basin, a bedroom. Jens could admit Lucas certainly had talented hands.

Jens also noticed that Lucas seemed to get along fine with most of the others. He and Sander seemed to get closer by the day, and he seemed to hold an easy respect for Robbe, softening every time in the face of the youngest’s kindness. He even shared an odd camaraderie with Lies that irritated Jens most.

Because of course, with Jens, he still insisted on being entirely insufferable.

It was made worse by the moments in between. They were rare, but Jens caught each and every one of them and clung on. Times he couldn’t help but laugh at one of Lucas’s smart remarks, even when they were always at his expense, and Lucas clammed up in surprise, staring at Jens with twitching lips. Lucas’s own laughter was even rarer, but even more appreciated. He would give a huff or snort at Jens’s expense on occasion; and then there were the blessed times when Lucas seemed to be feeling kind, and his lips curled in amusement along with Jens.

Jens thought they might have just settled into the jabs and barbs so quickly that it now seemed wrong to abandon them, and maybe they were actually forming their own deformed brand of friendship.

He couldn’t say he disliked it entirely. Some part of him had grown a little fond of Lucas’s teasing, when he realised there wasn’t much true malice behind it. Not often, anyway.

But it could be better, so this something wasn’t enough.

Jens rarely had the opportunity to get to know someone the way he could with Lucas. The only time he’d ever really made friends was with Moyo and Aaron, and even they were still based on circumstance. They were the only Lords’ sons his age around. Robbe, Senne, and Sander had all become close to him through necessary proximity. That didn’t mean he didn’t really love them, or thought they didn’t really love him, but it was different. It was another thing Jens thought had been handed to him. He knew if he was unlikable they still didn’t have to like him, but it was different.

Lucas was the first person Jens had chosen for himself.

He didn’t feel that the circumstances mattered in this instance. Jens had been the one to look at him and listen to him and choose not only to stand up for him, but to have him stand by his side. He didn’t know what it was, but something had drawn him to someone for the first time in his life.

And that someone was insistent on pushing him away.

But he wouldn’t let it hurt. Lucas was doing good—he was getting better by the day. That meant he was keeping himself safe. That was what mattered.

The morning Jens woke up on his own with the sun high behind the curtains was when he knew Lucas had finally messed up.

It was a fuzzy realisation in his half-asleep state, but he woke up quickly. He sprung into a sitting position and flitted his eyes around the room. Him, asleep; curtains closed; table devoid of breakfast. He didn’t know exactly what time it was, but he knew it wasn’t as early as usual.

Which meant Lucas was late.

Jens could do nothing more than sit in his confusion for the few minutes it took to hear a loud knock on the door. He stumbled out of bed, preparing himself to scold Lucas for being late. He was tripping over with his foot caught in the bedding when the door swung open, and now he was readying to scold Lucas for never waiting for permission.

But Lucas always waited, now, so that wasn’t right, either.

It wasn’t Lucas. It was Sander.

Jens stumbled free and managed to get out, “What—“

“The carriage never got here,” Sander interrupted without preamble. “It’s almost an hour late.”

“An hour?” Jens kicked his fallen bedding out of the way with a string of quiet profanities before walking closer to Sander. His heart picked up speed as his throat filled with questions. He asked, “Does she know?”

Sander nodded grimly.

Jens swore again and rushed to his wardrobe, flicking through in search of a worn tunic. “What do you know? Did you hear anything?”

“No. Like I said, the carriage hasn’t come. That could be the problem. It may never have even gotten there. It could have been raided, something could have happened the horses…anything.”

Jens considered. “It might not be Lucas.”

Sander shook his head, shrugging. “He could be trudging his way here, cursing you for messing up.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jens sighed, settling into his clothes before sitting down to shove on his boots. “Go look for him. Ride out; take Senne.”

Sander bowed slightly, then raised a brow. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try to convince my mother not to kill him when he does get here.”

“She can’t do anything if it’s a simple mistake, surely.”

Jens looked up at him, stood, and raised his brows back.

Sander pursed his lips and gave a curt nod. “Okay, I’m going.” He strode away, threw open the door, and almost rammed straight into Robbe.

Robbe clasped onto Sander’s shoulders and squeaked an apology, then said, “Jens. You need to come to the drawing room, right now.”

Jens didn’t waste any time arguing. He ushered Robbe to lead the way and followed after him, feeling Sander at his back. He knew what would be waiting for them, but he also didn’t have a clue. It was Lucas, one way or another. Something had happened to Lucas, or something was about to happen to Lucas.

Jens hoped that, either way, it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t need to give Lucas any more reasons to hate him.

“She’s not in the middle of killing him, is she?” Sander asked, optimistic as ever.

Robbe grimaced. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, actually. It’s not like that.”

“What?” Jens almost clipped Robbe’s heels, and slowed down only to have Sander step on the back of his boot. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Robbe pushed him into the drawing room, where his mother, Lies, and Lucas already stood, surrounding a woman who sat in one of the plush armchairs. It took Jens a second to realise it was Lucas’s own mother, Tess. She lit up when she saw him.

“Jens,” she greeted, all excited warmth, before catching herself. “Your Highness. It’s so lovely to see you again.”

Jens met Lucas’s eyes briefly, and they gave no indication of what was going on. Robbe and Sander lingered at the door, and Robbe gestured towards the hallway, silently telling Jens they would be nearby. Jens wanted him to stay, but he nodded in acknowledgment. As they left, he moved closer to the others and smiled as kindly as he could. “Tess,” he returned, wincing at the clear confusion in his voice. “Is everything alright? Can we do something for you?”

Her eyes widened and she quickly flapped a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m not here to ask anything of you. It’s just about Lucas. You understand, I can’t let him walk around alone, don’t you? It’s not safe.”

“Not safe,” Jens repeated, tilting his head, flickering his eyes to Lucas again. “I assured you, Lucas is well taken care of here. Have we done something wrong?”

“No,” Lucas said quickly, looking at the Queen.

“Not you,” Tess agreed. “Them. The ones painting my son as a criminal. He’s no criminal! I was there!”

Before Jens could reassure her or Ellis could make a cutting remark, Lies stepped in. She neatly stepped up to Tess and took the woman’s hand, squeezing in comfort. “Of course,” she said softly. “We won’t argue with what you know. But what makes you think anyone intends to do harm? It is more likely a mistake has been made, no?” When Tess hesitated, Lies frowned. “Has anyone made you feel threatened, Tess?”

“Someone is lying about him,” Tess insisted. “He shouldn’t be left out alone.”

Jens wanted to respond. He should point out that Lucas wasn’t alone, that the carriage had been sent for him every morning and obviously must have brought them both here. He shouldn’t say that it was unlikely Tess would be able to do much in the way of protecting Lucas, anyway, and the boy would likely be less afraid heading into whatever possible danger there was alone. Before he could say anything, Lucas grabbed onto his arm.

The touch was so unexpected that Jens froze up, feeling the contact zap through him and root him in place. It was only the thin layer of Jens’s sleeve separating their skin.

“Jens, I need to talk to you.” His voice was tighter than his grip. It was clear that, whatever he had to say, he would rather have kept to himself. But there was a request there now that Jens wouldn’t deny.

He nodded and drew his arm towards himself, bringing Lucas closer. Before he could guide the boy away, however, his mother clasped his shoulder with a warning look.

Lies tugged gently on Tess’s hand. “While you’re here, can I show you around? You can see where Lucas is spending all his time, and I can get you something to drink.”

“Lucas,” Tess began.

“I need Lucas for a moment, if you don’t mind, Tess,” Jens butt in. “He won’t be far, and you’re in good hands with Lies, I promise.”

She waited for Lucas’s nod before carefully accepting the offer, letting Lies guide her out of the room. Lucas and Jens remained, with Ellis staring at them expectantly.

“Why does she think you’re in danger?” Jens asked, cutting right to what bothered him most. He didn’t want to let the conversation be derailed into an argument right off the bat.

Lucas winced. “She’s sick,” he said, quiet and anxious. Jens had never seen him portray such emotion, and even now he was concealing it as much as he could. Desperation was the only reason it slipped through the cracks. “I know that’s not the best way to describe it, but I don’t know how else to explain. She gets this way, with all of these ideas, and she can’t be talked out of it, but afterwards…” He turned to Jens now, and he wore a fierce expression, but his eyes were pleading. “I can’t leave her alone.”

Jens wanted to reach out and comfort. He clasped his hands together and squeezed tightly, then changed his mind. He set a careful hand on Lucas’s arm. Lucas didn’t shake him off.

“Mother,” Jens started.

The Queen was looking at the door, after Lies and Tess. She turned to the two of them and said, “She will stay here.”

Lucas’s parted lips were the only show of surprise. Jens was sure even he looked more dumbfounded. “What? Really?”

“I understand what he means,” Ellis said, addressing Jens only, it seemed. “I will not ignore an unwell woman, not when I have the facilities to help. Just as I have let Robbe and his mother stay here for years.”

Jens did not know what to say. He wanted to point out how very different it was. Robbe was family, and Ellis had always adored him and his mother. His mother, who had been a Lady, and already a friend of the Queen’s. To him, at least, the difference was glaringly obvious; Lucas was essentially a prisoner.

Was Ellis making Tess one, too?

Was Jens horrible for even thinking she would?

Robbe hadn’t been family before getting here, he reminded himself. Ellis did not seem ill-intentioned or conniving in her offer; as sure of herself as ever, but with no hints of a hidden agenda, no signs of cunning. Maybe Jens should trust the process. Maybe this was their chance.

“But,” Lucas started, and then quickly snapped his mouth shut. Jens understood they were feeling the same. Lucas did not want to trust the offer, or even believe it, but he couldn’t bring himself to risk arguing, either. He hadn’t quite swallowed his suspicions down, however, before saying, “That is a kindness I don’t know how to accept, Your Majesty.”

Ellis lifted her chin. “Good thing the offer is not for you, then. I will discuss it with her myself. You can be grateful that it makes your job easier, now.” She looked from Lucas to Jens and back, then walked out before any of them could put in another word.

They were locked in silence for a moment, and then Lucas stepped back abruptly, pulling his arm from Jens’s touch as if it had burnt him. Jens had forgotten his hand was still on him. It felt more natural to have contact with Lucas than it probably should have, considering Jens had touched him less than a dozen times so far.

“What was that?” Lucas asked, voice wobbly as he stared down at his wobbly hands. He looked up at Jens. “Why would she do that?”

Jens pursed his lips. “She’s not a bad person, Lucas. I believe she meant it.” For now.

“But she doesn’t understand. You don’t understand,” Lucas corrected. “She’s sick, but it isn’t—I can’t—“

Jens took a hesitant step closer to him, but was careful not to encroach. “We do. Robbe’s mother, she has similar problems. Yasmina calls them episodes, when the delusions come, or other times when she…she gets kind of sad? Almost goes mute. But she’s gotten better,” he added, comfortingly. “Since staying here, she’s been given a lot of help, not just by Yasmina. There are ways it can be improved, so that it isn’t so intense.”

“She isn’t crazy,” Lucas said savagely.

“Of course she isn’t. Did I say something that implied—“

“She doesn’t need your help. I’m the one who takes care of her.”

That, he had a much easier answer for. “That’s why my mother said it will make your job easier. Now you can stay here. In the adjoining chambers, like you’re supposed to.” Jens smiled, feeling hopeful, unusually nervous, something in his heart jumping and kicking.

Lucas didn’t look as pleased with the offer as he had hoped, hands curling into fists at his sides before unfurling again, fingers stretching towards the floor. Jens’s gaze clung to them because it was easier than watching Lucas’s frustrated scowl. “Why are you so determined to make my life miserable?” he demanded.

“What?” Jens deflated. “I’m not. I’m trying to do you a favour.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“That’s what I always mean,” Jens insisted.

Lucas’s lips twitched and a muscle in his jaw jumped, holding something back.

Jens felt tired, all of a sudden. “Why do you always make it harder? Why won’t you just accept my help when it’s offered?”

“You aren’t doing any of this to help me,” Lucas exclaimed, taking a step closer. “This is for you. Everything’s always for you. I would have been better off with your mother’s death sentence.”

“And how well off would your mother be then, huh?” Jens snapped.

Lucas recoiled as if he’d punched him. His gaze darkened even further, but Jens only softened his own.

“This is for her. She will be taken care of, Lucas. I swore that I wouldn’t let harm come to you, and I know nothing would hurt you more than any harm coming to her.” Jens knew he was on the right track when Lucas’s harsh expression, and then his head, dropped, leaving him staring at the floor. “You won’t be cut off from her. You will be nearby at any time now should she need you.”

Lucas still clearly didn’t want to give in. Jens needed to give another little push. He took another step closer, and Lucas’s gaze shot up to him. “I could tell from that first moment watching you that you weren’t a bad person. I chose right then to put my trust in you, hoping it was the right decision, and hoped that you would prove it to me eventually. Now I’m asking you to sleep with only a meager wall and single door between us, still hoping you’ll prove me right. But you haven’t had any tests to see if you could trust me, and I know that. So let me to prove it to you through this.”

The speech, unsurprisingly, earned him a look of pure disbelief. “Your test of trust is with my mother’s life?” Lucas asked, with a high-pitched laugh of derision.

“I am trusting you with mine,” Jens said.

“You could kill me at any moment easier than I could lay a finger on you. You made a point of showing it, the first day.”

“And I haven’t. So, really, that should be enough to earn your trust already.”

Lucas stared at him, then grit his teeth. “I’m already late. I should be working, or these arguments will all be pointless when your mother simply has me hung.” He spun on his heel before Jens could argue, and disappeared in a second.

Jens blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, trying to catch his bearings.

Then Lucas’s head popped back through the door.

“Have you had breakfast?” he asked, reluctantly.

Jens wordlessly shook his head.

“It’ll be in your chambers in five minutes.” Lucas didn’t move, but looked away, then back at him. “I’ll have mine in my new room.”

He left before his words could sink in and he could catch Jens grinning dopily after him.

|*~^~*|

Jens instantly realised that it was strange, having Lucas so close. His comment about breakfast was clearly his way of giving in without hurting his pride, but Jens refused to actually let him use the damp and dusty room adjacent to his own that hadn’t been used in…honestly, he couldn’t recall if it had ever been used. So they had breakfast together in Jens’s room, which was not the wholly unusual part, but which felt different already, anyway.

It wasn’t until the day had passed as normal, and Lucas was there to snuff out his fire and blow out the last lingering candles before stepping through the door on the far wall of Jens’s room, closing himself away to sleep and stay so close, that the strangeness of the situation sunk in.

Lucas was right there. Behind the door that Jens couldn’t stop staring at. Jens wouldn’t have to go through anybody else to get to him. He was right there, probably not freaking out half as much as Jens, despite how obviously stranger it must have been for him. He could be sleeping already, curled up on the single cot, snoring softly. Did Lucas snore? If he did, should Jens be able to hear it?

He listened, heard his own breath, held it, and listened some more. He could still hear nothing but his own pulse in his ears.

He rolled away from the door and forced his eyes shut.

What did it matter that Lucas was just there? He was just…there. It didn’t make all that much difference. They weren’t suddenly exchanging goodnights; Lucas had not even looked at him during this new task of leaving him in the dark. Lucas hadn’t treated him any differently all day. If anything, he’d only been more anxious to sneak away, checking on his mother in every moment he could find.

Jens should probably be thinking more about Tess, too. She had balked at the Queen’s suggestion at first, and adamantly refused. Jens had been the one to gently persuade her, and Lucas had given him the stink-eye during the whole interaction. But he had reluctantly softened, Jens noticed, when Tess did, looking at Jens and responding kindly and taking his hand as if she already held a fondness for him. Maybe he should be thinking more about Tess. He wasn’t even sure which room she was staying in, and she might have been the key to his whole problem.

He rolled onto his back, frustrated. Lucas would only hate him more, hearing him think that. It didn’t matter that Jens didn’t mean it in any manipulative sense. It sounded bad, even to himself.

Having weirdly panicked non-thoughts about Lucas had probably been better than this. He rolled onto his other side and returned to staring at the door.

Lucas was just behind it. Jens could get up and open the door and be able to look at him. But why the hell would he do that? It didn’t matter. It was unusual. Jens didn’t think anyone had ever stayed in that room. They were just a door away from him.

He wondered what Lucas thought of it, because of course, he had given no reaction when Jens had proudly presented it to him other than a mumbled ‘thanks’. It was much smaller than Jens’s room, with not even half as much furniture or decor, but it was a considerable upsizing from Lucas’s home. Lucas probably hated that, too, on the basis of some principle Jens would not understand and that Lucas would cling tighter to precisely because Jens would not understand.

Jens was getting to know him very well, he realised, with only half sarcasm.

But he couldn’t figure out what Lucas thought of the room, or if Lucas was sleeping as he ought to, or staring at the door like Jens. He didn’t know if Lucas snored, if he was sleeping, or if he seemed more peaceful or happy in his sleep, without that furrow in his brow, or if he was sleeping well or what position he slept in or if he slept without a shirt like Jens or if he had dreams or nightmares often or if he was thinking about this half as much as Jens was. He concluded that the last question was one he could probably answer on his own, and Lucas probably wasn’t thinking about hi—the same questions at all.

But he kept trying to figure it out, anyway, and avoided wondering why he felt any of it was important, and dreaded the thought that every night from now on would have the same questions, the same crisis.

It was enough to eventually fall asleep because he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. But he kept his eyes directed at the door until then, and afterwards Lucas was there, curled up in the darkness behind Jens’s lids without that furrow between his brows, sleeping peacefully where Jens could see him.

|*~^~*|

Two days after Lucas moved in, Jens found him cornered by Lotte in the hallway.

This would not be surprising or alarming if they had already met. Instead, Lucas had managed to go through all of his time here without ever being introduced or running into the little Princess. It was hardly all luck; Jens was willing to bet his mother had something to do with it. It would be easy, considering Lotte still stayed closest to the Queen’s own rooms and had classes with her tutor and maids for too many skills for Jens to keep track of. Ellis seemed to be purposefully short on details when Lotte asked about Lucas, and Lotte was smart enough to know she wasn’t going to get anywhere. She had been bugging Jens to let her meet him instead, on the simple basis it was unfair that she was the only one who didn’t even know what he looked like. Jens had always had to say no because he’d never been able to find Lucas at the time.

Now, it seemed like she’d managed it herself.

“Who are you?” Lotte demanded, with all the air of authority she’d learned from her siblings. Then, not even leaving a second to respond, “You’re him, aren’t you?”

Lucas blinked, looking shocked speechless. “Who?”

“Lucas.” They both snapped to attention as Jens joined them, Lotte with a small, sheepish smile and Lucas with a straighter spine. Jens nodded at him and gestured at the Princess. “This is my little sister, Lotte, who usually remembers more manners than that.”

Lotte made a small sound of protest, but Jens was wholly enraptured with Lucas’s softening features, his lips curving in the barest of smiles. “Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry, I should have known that.” He did a gracious dip; not quite as polished as Sander’s usual bow for the girl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I’m Lucas van der Heijden.”

Jens would not be upset that Lucas showed the youngest member of the family more courtesy than he’d shown him. He was good with children. That was sweet. Like his smile.

Lotte flushed, but then shook her head. “You can call me Lotte, like Robbe and Sander do. And Senne and Jens’s other friends.”

“And Yasmina, and Luca, and anyone else who treats you like the favourite, right?” Jens raised a brow.

Lotte scowled and elbowed him pointedly.

Jens bent slightly as a burst of breath escaped him, but wasn’t derailed from looking at Lucas. “Don’t let her fool you. She’ll treat you like the favourite, too, but she’s not as sweet as she looks.”

Lucas only watched him in amusement. Then he looked to Lotte and very subtly rolled his eyes. (It could not have been more obvious.) Lotte giggled back, and Lucas’s smile widened a fraction, and Jens should’ve been annoyed that Lucas was getting along with absolutely everyone else on the basis of teaming up on him.

But, well. Sweet. He supposed.

Still, he couldn’t show that he was swayed that easily. He tapped Lotte’s shoulder. “Aren’t you supposed to have a dozen or so classes now? What are you doing harassing my servant?”

“I’m not harassing anyone,” she said, indignant. “I wouldn’t have had to if you let me meet him before.”

Jens held his hands up. “Don’t blame me. And don’t avoid the question.”

She pouted and gave a slight shrug.

“What are you doing?” Lucas asked him, in what should have seemed like a retaliation but wasn’t. His expectant expression made it clear he thought the answer might be ‘looking for you’.

Jens could have said that, and he wouldn’t have been lying. But he did have a more prominent reason. “I was going to ask some more questions about the Ackermans’ stay.”

Lucas pursed his lips, and now his expression just said, Ah.

Jens had been mostly avoiding thinking about it, if he was entirely honest. Every time he remembered, a tangled ball of unwanted emotions lodged itself in his chest and made him flighty with anger and anxiety. His mother had no right to make this decision for him; he was sticking by that. He wasn’t sure if it quite explained why the whole ordeal made him feel sick. Why what it might lead to made him feel sick.

He really had liked Jana, once upon a time, did have that boyhood crush on the beautiful Princess, which seemed unavoidable. And it wasn’t that Jens hadn’t thought about her in the years since; but in the way of missing a friend, not a lover.

Lucas, stuck with Jens as he was, hadn’t heard this spiel. Robbe was the only one Jens spoke to about it in any detail. The others, however, had all become victims of his sour mood and been given a gruff explanation in the first couple of days. It was enough for the one mention to make Lucas wary.

Between all of that, and the recent living developments, Jens was running pretty low on sleep.

“We’ll leave you to it, then,” Lotte said lightly. It would have come across better if she hadn’t winced.

Jens sighed, stroked her head briefly, and said, “Don’t miss anything. Go on, get Lucas to escort you if you want, then let him get back to work, okay?”

It dragged both of their smiles back as Lotte shyly glanced at Lucas and turned to lead the way. This was what made Jens a good prince—he was born to please. “Okay,” Lotte agreed, hugging him quickly around the waist before scampering off.

Lucas followed, but paused and glanced back at Jens. Whatever he wanted to say didn’t come, but he raised his brows at Jens instead. Jens nodded his assurance, feeling oddly touched, and Lucas nodded back once before disappearing, too.

Jens continued on his original trek to his mother’s chambers, and stopped when he found the door ajar. Brow furrowed, he nudged it another inch to poke his head through, but stopped again instead when he caught the shimmering glint of chain mail.

“It’s not wise,” De Smet’s deep voice slunk towards him. “He should not have been allowed to stay in your son’s chambers. You know the threat he poses.”

Jens’s heart knocked against his ribs, but he stayed stock-still as he heard his mother sigh. “I do not have to explain my decisions to you, Mathias, and certainly not this many times. I did it for the woman, not the boy. And I will not keep shooting down my son’s orders.”

“You should. He needs to be warned. The boy shouldn’t have been let live, never mind allowed so close.”

“Jens will not be warned,” Ellis said, half-exasperated and half-dismissive. “I don’t believe that telling him anything would cause the reaction you’re looking for. Jens is soft. If anything, curse Lucas too much, and it will fall on deaf ears.”

De Smet shifted, moving his back out of Jens’s sight and, presumably, closer to the Queen. “It is a dangerous game, Ellis. His kind only rot and let it spread.”

“Then let us hope,” Ellis bit back, “that Jens will dig himself out first. The boy will slip up on his own. You need not spread this urgency and push him further under Jens’s protection. Have some trust and some patience.”

De Smet sighed, now, and the clunk of his boot brought him back to where Jens could see before Jens quickly made himself scarce.

|*~^~*|

His anger had only soared to new heights after the encounter, and it pushed him to seek out Sander. He found him in the lower halls this time, heading towards the kitchen for an early lunch with Lucas at his side. They both came to a stop before Jens quite reached them, Lucas with his usual disinterest and Sander with his usual smirk.

“Don’t,” Jens said, before the knight could get a smart word in. “I am not in the mood.”

Sander’s brow twitched. “Clearly.”

“Did it not go well?” Lucas asked. “Your questions.”

Jens looked at him and felt something fierce thrum through him. He pursed his lips, giving a slight shake of his head. “She wasn’t there,” he lied. Which probably wasn’t the best way to earn Lucas’s trust, but better than the truth. Which was that he’d eavesdropped on more plans for Lucas’s eventual demise and ran away before he could get caught.

At least his mother could sit in the comfort of being right. Jens only felt more anger towards them and more protective of Lucas after hearing their words.

Why did they still think he was such a threat? Jens thought that if Lucas really wanted to do away with him, he would’ve found a way by now.

So unless he had Jens under a spell and this was what left his thoughts running every night, leaving him to eventually die a slow death by exhaustion, he was harmless.

“Do you have enough energy left for a training session first?” Jens asked Sander before any of them could question him further, or outright call out his lie.

Sander rolled his head and blew out a breath, considering. “For you, I suppose.” He nodded towards his companion. “But I already promised Lucas I wouldn’t abandon him, and he gets his lunch along with yours.”

Jens huffed, then shrugged it off. “Actually, that works out fine. He can train with us.”

Lucas gaped at him. “Your mother wants to kill me because she thinks I stole a sword, and now you want to teach me how to use one?”

Jens flushed, even while pausing to think about it. “Well, honestly, I probably would, but I meant for hand-to-hand combat. It might stop the guards from thinking they can manhandle you if you know how to break their wrists.”

This got Lucas’s attention.

Meanwhile, Sander clutched at his chest and tipped his head back with a dramatically pleased sigh. “Gosh, I enjoy it when you lose all that princely propriety.”

He spoke with an odd amount of genuity for words that were obviously sarcastic. Jens was hardly proper. Lucas’s lips twitched in amusement, as if he was thinking the same thing.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jens said. He nudged at Sander’s shoulder until Sander changed direction, turning back the way he and Lucas had come. Jens fell into step behind and Lucas hesitantly followed alongside.

“Where do you do…this?” he asked after a moment.

Jens glanced over, then nodded towards the windows. “The knights train outside in different groups, depending on their title. I sometimes lead sessions and train with them, but Sander and I got into the habit of one-on-one when he came to us and I helped catch him up. There are plenty of unused rooms down here by the weapons hall.”

“Catch up?”

Sander looked around at them. “I told you, I haven’t been here long. My training followed the usual process, but it was much more accelerated. But it meant I got special treatment and supposedly learned from the best, and now I can leave them in the dust.”

He threw Jens a wink, and Jens rolled his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

Lucas was biting down another smile.

Jens waited in the middle of the room for Sander as the knight shuck off his coat and left himself in a light grey tunic. Lucas hovered by the doorway and examined the empty room, the blank stone walls only brightened by the odd lantern and a lone tapestry. Lucas moved to examine it, and Jens wished him luck. It was too worn and faded to depict anything with much clarity. Jens wasn’t sure how old it was or how long it had been here, or if anyone else even knew it existed. Sander had examined it with care at first too, however, so perhaps Jens just wasn’t enough of an artist to understand. To him it was only another battle on another field, this one blurrier than the rest.

“Alright, Lucas, you wanna see how it’s done?” Sander called to him, meeting Jens in the center of the floor.

Lucas turned to face them and crossed his arms, giving a slight shrug. The curiosity was clear in his face.

“We’ll explain as we go.” Sander winked at Jens and spread his feet into a fighting stance, then gave a beckoning flick of his fingers.

Jens narrowed his eyes and mimicked the other’s position, then held. Sander grinned and lunged first. He was quick, being almost a head smaller than Jens, and knew his strength, but Jens had the advantage of experience. He tracked the blow and could have easily caught it, but instead he spun out, not letting his stance falter. Sander followed and narrowed his eyes.

Jens allowed a glance at Lucas. It would have been easy for Jens to land Sander on his back, but somehow, he thought that would have annoyed Lucas more than it would have impressed him. He needed to let Sander show just how good he was, and then Jens could prove that he was better. He met Sander’s eyes, and knew they had come to the mutual decision to put on a show.

Sander snorted quietly, but simply rolled his shoulders before going again.

They traded blows and parries, dancing their way around the room without getting too close to where Lucas hung at the sidelines. Sander started calling out tips as he moved, turning them into jokes more than helpful drops of wisdom. Still, Lucas seemed to be listening, from the few glimpses Jens got.

It was marvelous at replacing the tension in Jens’s muscles, and that was the important thing. It was energy instead of anger thrumming through him now, and Lucas was nearby, and there wasn’t anything immediate to worry about. This, Jens could manage.

Eventually he feinted a blow and caught Sander off guard, making him wobble and stumble back. Jens grinned, letting the anticipation of the win fill him as he checked to make sure Lucas was watching, before he found his back to the wall with the wind knocked out of him.

“Most important lesson,” Sander called, to where Lucas was hiding a smirk behind his hand. “Never take your eyes off your opponent or immediate threat. Don’t assume you’ve won before the fight’s over.” He braced his arm over Jens’s chest like he was leaning against a particularly sturdy post, rather than holding him back, and looked over his shoulder to offer Lucas another one of those winks, and Jens swept his feet out from under him.

Sander sprawled on his back with a grunt and let his arms flop to the sides. Before Jens could even speak, he let out a loud sigh.

Jens knocked Sander’s boot with his own and gazed down at him. “You were saying?” Sander flipped him off and he huffed, then addressed Lucas without looking up. “Most important lesson. Never let your guard down. Don’t assume the fight’s over before you’ve won.”

He looked up, and the most marvelous thing happened—Lucas grinned at him.

Then he was staring at the ceiling.

He wheezed as he hit the floor, and wondered if the burst of laughter he heard was actually Lucas or a result of the daze he was in. Sander kicked his leg from his own position on the floor, where he’d obviously found it appropriate to take Jens down with him. “You were saying?” Sander drawled.

Jens probably deserved that.

He watched Sander get to his feet and pushed himself onto his elbows, and then Lucas was there, offering a hand. Jens stared at him for a moment, then clasped it carefully, letting Lucas haul him up with surprising strength. Lucas released him instantly, but the feeling lingered in his fingertips much more than it had with that first brief touch outside the carriage.

Lucas brushed dirt off the back of Sander’s shoulder and was rewarded with a smile, and Jens tried not to feel bitter as he dusted himself off. Lucas was his servant, for Heaven’s sake.

“Your turn?” Sander asked him. He nodded at Jens, and Jens froze with his hands on the bottom of his tunic.

Lucas considered him, then shrugged. “I learn better by doing.”

Jens shouldn’t have felt any hesitance. It wasn’t as if Lucas would provide tough competition. He swallowed. “If you’re alright to wait for lunch for a bit longer, then sure.”

“I can’t promise I’ll be as much fun,” Lucas said.

Jens eyed him as he traipsed back to the middle of the floor, pointing at where Lucas should stand in front of him. Lucas rolled the sleeves of his tunic up to his elbows as Jens and Sander had and positioned his feet with Sander’s guidance. Jens watched him before saying, “I think you’ll surprise us.”

Jens came to the realisation quite quickly that he was unprepared for Lucas’s hands on him, and the earlier touch did nothing to lessen the effect. Lucas had kept Jens at a distance as much as he could. He’d had no reason so far to help Jens dress, and while he prepared every bath, he’d made sure not to be in the room any time Jens had one. Normal servants wouldn’t blink, but Lucas hadn’t been raised with that teaching. Jens didn’t really think it was all about modesty, but it came back to trust. It didn’t matter that Jens should be the vulnerable one in those instances; it was too close either way for someone untrustworthy. Jens understood that Lucas pretty much came with the rule ‘do not touch’, and only made the most minor of exceptions.

The rule had been forgotten now. Lucas didn’t seem to think twice about the close contact. Jens pushed aside the thought that it was out of excitement to get a punch at him. Lucas must have actually paid attention, because he managed a hit to Jens’s shoulder within a few minutes and stayed light on his feet. He managed to block Jens’s attempt, but he put him back a few steps, so Jens reached after him.

“Wait, here, it’s like this.” He waited for Lucas to set his wrist in Jens’s grip on his own, and then Jens drew his arm into position. “Use this part of your arm, keep it turned out.” The hairs on Lucas’s forearm rose as Jens trailed his fingers across it. Then he inched back, letting go as Lucas kept the position on his own, and pushed his arm against Lucas’s. They formed an x as Lucas understood and pressed back, leaning their weight into each other. “There,” Jens praised. “Now you have strength behind him.”

Lucas’s lips quirked and he nodded. He managed to apply said strength and shove Jens backward, and the dance began again.

They stopped when Jens had Lucas locked back against his chest with an arm around his throat. Both of them were breathing hard, and Jens could feel Lucas’s heart pounding against his own. He had leaned back into Jens, the energy drained out of him even though his shoulders remained tense.

“You’ve just killed yourself,” Jens told him.

Lucas made a noise of confusion, and Jens briefly tightened his arm, hearing Lucas’s breath hitch as he went entirely still.

“Don’t lean into someone who has you in a headlock,” Jens explained. “You’re defenseless. I’m going to show you how to get out, okay?”

Even though Jens had eased up again, Lucas hadn’t calmed. Jens realised, with a burst of regret, that he’d scared him. He let his grip slacken.

“Sorry, you’re probably starving now. We can leave it for another time.”

Lucas’s fingers curled around his arm. “No,” he argued, clearing his throat. “No, sorry. Show me now, while we’re here. It’s useful.”

Jens waited to see if he would change his mind, then locked his grip again. “Okay. So you’re gonna turn into my arm, and it’ll be easier to breathe. See? And move your hand down, so your fingers are between you and my elbow, then tuck your chin down into the space. Raise your shoulders to get yourself the room.”

Lucas listened and followed the instructions perfectly. His breath puffed into the crook of Jens’s elbow, where his hand already gripped the more sensitive skin.

Jens took a steadying breath. “Good. Now bend your knees, and your grip will bring me with you. This’ll make it harder for me to tighten my grip again before you can flip me.”

“I’m going to flip you?” Lucas asked, startled.

“Well,” Jens smiled slightly. “If you can.”

Lucas huffed.

“Now step back, on the right where I’m holding you. Careful you keep your weight forward, don’t lean back towards me again. No, not to the side, back. Your foot needs to go behind mine, so we’re calf-to-calf. That’s it. Feel steady?”

A moment to consider, then Lucas nodded.

“Alright, now you’re going to get out. Listen to me and then try, okay? You’re going to bend your knees, and step around with your left foot now, so you’re turning out to face the opposite direction. Keep turning your shoulders and hips into my hold to get more leverage if it’s harder than you expect. You’ll still have the grip on my arm, so pull diagonally across your chest, and I’ll trip on the foot behind me. Make sure you plant your left foot strong. Wanna try?”

Instead of answering, Lucas was already moving. Jens felt himself being drawn forward as Lucas leaned his weight, and then he was spinning. He had himself free in a second, and held onto the momentum as he pulled. Jens’s gravity shifted, and the incremental amount he’d leaned forward made no difference as he fell back onto his ass.

He was flat on the floor again, but now he could see Lucas’s smiling face above him instead of the ceiling. Jens smiled breathlessly back. “Good,” he gasped. “That was—you did really good.”

Lucas’s smile brightened, and he glanced away. “Thank you,” he said.

A sharp clap reminded them of Sander’s presence, and they both looked to find him leaning against the wall, eyes shining. He applauded Lucas with seemingly genuine enthusiasm, and pushed off the wall to walk towards them. “You two make an interesting show. That might be the best thing I’ve seen yet. And I’m impressed.”

Sander held his hand up to Lucas, and Lucas slapped it half-heartedly. He cleared his throat and went about shaking down his sleeves, and this time Sander held out a hand to help Jens up. “I think this deserves a nice lunch, His Highness’ treat.” Sander raised a brow at Lucas. “What do you think?”

Jens scowled at him, but Lucas’s expression was turning hopeful. He turned to Jens just as expectantly, and Jens was reminded of why he was here, of the conversation he’d overheard earlier. He couldn’t imagine how Lucas would slip up.

He wouldn’t let him.

“Fine,” he relented. “But Sander is just as capable of this himself. The cook has a soft spot for him more than me.”

“So our combined qualities make us irresistible,” Sander smirked, before pulling Lucas under his arm. “Even more so when you add this one to the mix.”

Lucas made as if to wrestle his way out of the hold, and Sander quickly let go.

Now Jens smirked. “This one does just alright on his own, I’m sure.”

Lucas’s lips quirked again, and Jens took the win.

[supernatural-love14]

Is That All I Am To You?

Summary: Thinking that her and Dean are exclusive, the Reader is proved wrong when Dean tells another hunter that they are only friends…

Warnings: The tiniest bit of fluff (and I seriously mean tiny). some serious ANGST. No happy ending. Arguing. Language. Crying. Lots of crying… 

Word Counts: 1,682

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Former Dean x Reader

PROMPT: Is that all I am to you?

A/N: This is for the @jawritter​ 1500 Follower Challenge - Jen’s Make Me Cry Challenge - here’s the masterlist to it. 

MAIN MASTERLIST  ~  SERIES MASTERLIST  ~ ONESHOT MASTERLIST

Four years. Four years that I have known Dean Winchester. Two years that we have been dating. At first it started out as a friends with benefits thing, which I was completely fine with if it meant I could spend time with Dean. But then it started to get serious, he started to take me on dates. We’d go to restaurants - just me and him, go play crazy golf, go on walks, stuff that couples would do. 

A year down the line of the relationship, Dean gives me space in his room for clothes. Not that it really mattered if I had a drawer or not in his room considering my room was only down the hall. But most of the time I would sleep in his room, with his arms protectively wrapped around me as we slept. 

Even Sam believed we were dating, it felt like we were dating - like it was all real. But I was so wrong, that I didn’t even realise that everything Dean had ever promised me was a lie. I should have seen it coming. Like come on, it’s Dean freaking Winchester. The one who gets around with all the women, never settling down, never dating anyone because it would have the worst outcome. 

How couldn’t I have seen this? Why couldn’t I have stopped myself from falling for his charm years ago? I feel so naive and gullible. I know now that I can’t ever believe anything that man says. Ever again. 

I have to leave, I have to get out of here. 

5 Hours Earlier…

Meeting Sam at the bar, Dean and I walk in with his arm “possessively” wrapped around my waist, warding off any guys that would even think to get close to me. Sam sat in one of the corner booths of the bar far away from anyone. To everyone it looked like we were together, technically we were. 

Joining Sam at the table, I was sat next to Dean leaning my head on his shoulder while he had one of his arms wrapped around mine. It was so clear to everyone that we were more than just friends. The lingering touches, the featherlight kisses on the forehead. Even the way he looked at me suggested that there was more than friendship. For the first time in a long time, there were no girls even attempting to flirtatiously glance his way. They knew he was taken. They didn’t even try to come over to get his attention, they knew they wouldn’t get it. 

“Any new cases, Sammy?” Dean asked, as he grabbed onto one of the many beer bottles that was brought over to them, taking a large gulp of it. 

“Man, I’ve looked but nothing so far, a whole bunch of others have taken cases and there’s just nothing at the moment.”

“Do they need any help?” Dean asked, clearly needing something to keep him occupied but Sam quickly shook his head.

“I’ve already asked, but you know what hunters are like, they’ve got their own partners to help them and they don’t need three extra hunters. But I’ll keep looking for cases, I guess we can just take this time off that we never get round to having.” Sam explained, lifting his own beer to drink, his eyes scanning the bar before noticing someone staring at them. “Hey, we’re being watched.”

“What… by who?”

“Don’t know, I’ve never seen him before, he’s just intensely looking at us from the bar.” I turn around to see the man sitting at the bar. Once he see’s me looking at him, he smiles. Gasping I realise who it is. “Y/n, you know who that is?”

“Yeah… my ex.” Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Dean slightly turns to see the guy who is staring at you. 

“Bad ending?” Sam asked with concern, his eyes shifting from you to your ex and then to Dean. 

“Not really. He’s not… a hunter. And it was a long time ago.” You started to explain to the boys. 

“Are you going to go over?” Dean asked, masking his emotions with a straight face.

“Should I?” Looking up at him, trying to get a read on him but failing miserably. 

Gulping, Dean looked from you to your ex before looking back at you. “Y/n, he’s clearly here to see you. You should go over there.”

“But I’m here with you guys… It’s fine, really. I’m with you. I have no reason to see him. It didn’t end well last time I saw him, which was when we broke up.”

“Did he know about the hunting life?” 

“Yeah, that’s the main reason we broke it off.” I lie easily, not really wanting to explain my past.

“Maybe he’s trying to get you back, maybe he’s ok with you being a hunter.”

“Dean! I’m with you, I don’t need to go back with my ex… I’m already taken.” 

“Yeah but we’re not really together, together…” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise your voice slightly, hoping this isn’t where it’s really going.

“Dean, st-“ Sam started to say before Dean interrupted him. 

“We’re only friends with benefits.”

“So, what two years of being together - friends with benefits or not, and not once id you think that with all your actions showed that this was more than friends with benefits. You don’t take a friend with benefits on dates. Let me guess in all of this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing, you’ve been seeing other people haven’t you?” 

“Y/n…I’m sorry that you thought there was more to this-“

“No. What you did was lead me on. I’m going back to the bunker.” Getting up from my seat, I quickly grab my stuff before heading out towards the door. My ex immediately heading towards me, and I couldn’t even stop the eye roll from forming. 

“Hey, Y/n. It’s been a while.” He stops in front of me, blocking me from the exit and now i’m suddenly remembering why we broke up in the first place. Anyone would think that we broke up because I was in the hunting life and he was not, something normal. But no, this cheating bastard thinks he has the audacity to think we will pick things up where it was left.

“Yeah, I guess. How’s Amanda?” 

“Andrea, was her name.”

“OH right, that so silly of me to get the name mixed up of the girl you threw me away for.” I said bitterly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Y/n, at the time we weren’t really together.” You could just feel like your brain wanted to explode at that very second, what was with men and not telling you what the relationship status was. Was it that hard to talk for them to talk to me? And why did I have such bad luck with men!?

“Yeah, I remember, I remember you so clearly saying that as you were banging that chick in our bedroom of the house we brought together!” 

“Y/n…” He started to say grabbing my arm slightly to pull me towards him, before I so rudely pushed it away. “Don’t be like this. Remember all the fun we had together.”

“No. I don’t. Now if you excuse me, I have to leave. I’ve dealt with dickheads all evening.” 

“Hey, don’t go. Come on, catch up with me.”

“No. I’m not going down that path again. What happened between me and you is now over. It’s been over for years.” Clearly not getting the message, he pulls me roughly towards him, before I kick him in the balls. I didn’t even realise one of the Winchester boys were behind me before Sam pulled me back away from my dick of an ex-boyfriend.

“Hey, she clearly said no. So leave her alone.” Sam defended, a glare placed on his face, I turned slightly to see where Dean was but seeing him at the other end of the bar chatting up a chick just made my blood boil. Here I was clearly struggling to get rid of my ex and he’s over there throwing what little we had left away like trash. From this moment I knew it was over. I knew we would never be together. And I knew I had to leave for good. No more would I fall for men like him. 

I could feel my eyes tearing up, blinking rapidly to hold them back from falling. My ex now left the area of the bar as Sam watched me with concern. “I’m going back to the bunker.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to get some sleep.” 

“Ok…just call me to let me know you got back ok.”

“Of course.” Lying through my teeth as I give Sam a quick hug. With him never realising that this would be the last time he would see me. I leave the bar quickly heading back to place which will no longer be my home. 

After 5 hours I had packed my things, grabbed anything and everything I had in Dean’s room and my old room to put into my car. My old car was sitting in the garage, where it had been left since the day I moved in here. I never really needed it when I had moved in, I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my face as I realise how much I will miss this place. The memories that I thought were good now turned to ash and dust. 

I will move on from Dean Winchester. Sitting behind the wheel just made it all too real as Dean will never know how much I loved him but I have to leave, I can’t stay here knowing that he will never fully be with me not after everything that I now know. He’ll never know what he truly missed out on, holding a hand to my flat stomach, the life that was slowly growing inside of me. Dean will never know that he would have a child. Because he will never find me. Not ever again.

IF YOUR NAME IS CROSSED OUT IT MEANS I CANNOT TAG YOU FOR SOME REASON. ALSO FEEDBACK IS MUCH APPRECIATED!

Forever Tags:

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Dean Winchester Tags:

@foreverasouldreamer​  @a-girls-little-world @dreamyalessiaa @dhawandyke  @bi-danvers0  @anorable-agnes-drew  @autumnfrancour2 @waywardbeanie @ellewritesfix05 @flamencodiva   @akshi8278  @tuataracda123

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[hopelessromanticvirgo]

Sincerely, Always Yours

Chapter 12

Chapter 11

“It is me?” Jens looks at him sitting there, with his nails on his mouth, his knees shaking, eyes getting teary while still trying to breath normally and crack a smile. 

They have been there for half an hour now, Robbe taking his time to speak, already managed to blurt out that he’s gay, that he’s in love, that he’s going insane.

Robbe texted Jens the first thing in the morning, it’s not like he could fall asleep the whole night, his mind going crazy, running and never stopping, he probably fell asleep when the first lair of sunlight shone though his window but woke up quickly after that.

Jens didn’t answer him, it was too early but Robbe didn’t care, he called and called until the boy woke up and cursed him from waking him up at the 7 am in the morning but when he heard Robbe’s broken and shaky voice, he was wide awake, already up, ready to be on his friend’s side immediately.

So they met up. And Robbe finally confessed his biggest secret and he was quite surprised at how easy Jens took it, glancing at Robbe’s face with almost “that’s what you were worried about?” look.

But no, that wasn’t the whole thing.

Robbe said he was in love and he was in pain so there they were, at the cafe, with Robbe’s untouched and Jens’s almost empty cups of coffee in front of them, on the table, both of them waiting for Robbe to speak up.

This was it.

“No.” He gulped.

Jens raised his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to tell me who it is then?”

Robbe wanted to, he couldn’t handle this anymore, he needed somebody to know, he has been torturing alone for so long already, he wanted out, so he nodded his head, getting ready to spill his name but nothing came out of his mouth.

“Come on buddy, I don’t have all day.” Jens joked, trying to lighten up the mood.

“It’s - “ Robbe started but couldn’t finish, he put his head down which made Jens groan.

“Just say it.” It’s not that Jens was getting impatient, he was just tired, sleepy and just wanted his friend to stop torturing himself.

“I destroyed everything - I “ Robbe’s heart started beating so fast, his breath shallow, he was sure he needed to take some light medication to calm his pulse after this by the way he could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

“We’re gonna talk about that later, just tell me who it is.” Jens’s hopeful and calm face managed to make Robbe relax a bit so he nodded his head again, took a big breath and mumbled the name.

“It’s Sander.”

And Jens eyes went wide. He was expecting anybody but him.

“S-sander? What? Oh god.” Robbe couldn’t explain what Jens was feeling or thinking by the look on his face, but before the boy had any time to process what Robbe said, he started.

“Jens, I - I ruined everything. He - he hates me now - I - I tried to stay away - I really did but it was hard and - he - he hates me.”

This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Tell me what happened?”

Robbe looked away, gathering some leftover courage, trying to not pass out right there and then.

He had to start somewhere, so he stared from the beginning, talking so fast, almost not taking any breath between the sentences, wanting the whole thing to be over already.

“I’ve always known we were too close and I love that but this year I noticed somethings started to change, I mean now I realize that they didn’t start to change I just started noticing them and slowly I understood that it wasn’t just casual and normal feelings you usually get for your friends. No, it was more, way more and I - I didn’t know what to do - I thought they would go away - I was scared and I thought they were temporary so I started pulling away - I started drifting off. At first it wasn’t anything serious, Sander didn’t even notice it but no matter how much I’d stay away when I came back to him the feelings somehow got stronger and stronger so I decided to start pushing him away more and more - until we didn’t hang out anymore. And I felt so horrible, crying myself to sleep every night because no matter what the feelings weren’t getting away and I was missing him like crazy.

Then he started to notice it, and I felt even worse but I was too far gone, too caught up to try to make myself believe that I wasn’t in love with him to notice him, to notice everything.”

He was looking anywhere but at his friend’s face, who was listening to every word he said with his full attention, managed to completely drink his coffee and by the way they both looked, just sitting there, discussing this like they were talking about life and death situation, not even a waitress dared to go up there to take his empty cup away.

“I lied once when he asked me to hang out, felt terrible but then I lied again and again, until lying to him just became something natural.

And because of that - because of myself I - I lost him. He hates me.

I knew what was going on and I couldn’t do anything about it, just stand behind and watch him slip away from my fingers.

Then things got so bad, we’d argue everyday and I realized that I had to be there for him, even if I would be hopelessly in love with him and hurt myself, I couldn’t continue hurting him the way I was doing, without any reason, without any excuse.

But I couldn’t do it for long. I’d be there, then I’d hurt myself again so I was debating between seeing him and not seeing him.

I started to lose him - I t-tried to be there.

And - and - we - we were fine.

Then I decided to just fuck it and say it and I came out to him, I decided that I’d say I loved him but I chickened out at the last minute, it was already too late to go back now so I told him I was in love with someone else.”

And that’s when he looked up, finally, and Jens saw that the boy was at the edge of crying, all those secrets and feeling and emotions he kept inside for so long starting to come out, only to destroy him more.

“With who?” He asked quietly, still trying to wrap his head around the stuff Robbe was telling him.

“It doesn’t matter right now. The worst thing is that I can’t take any of it back.

It was just a while ago when I was trying to go back to how we were before.

Before summer when I realized that not only I wanted to watch a film with him, but I also wanted to put my head on his shoulder, wanted to be able to hold his hand, wanted to see how his lips would taste.

And things were going well I’d say but one day my mom - she had some problems - I had to go to different pharmacies to get her medication and they didn’t have it so I spent the whole day - my phone died - and I was supposed to meet Sander, he was giving me another chance or it felt like it and I blew it - I blew everything up. I couldn’t tell him I was busy, I felt like it’d come out like another excuse, like I was trying to save myself and my ass by making him feel guilty since I was late because of my mom and her condition.”

Jens remembers that day, how his mom called him while they were at the skatepark, he doesn’t know what she told him but judging from the way Robbe’s eyes went wide and he practically run off, he guessed, nothing good left her mouth from the other side of the phone line.

“Now he has a girlfriend - he doesn’t want to talk to me - he never will and I - fuck” he put his head in his hands as tugged on them.

And that’s when Jens heard his whisper, he has never heard Robbe say anything with so much emotions inside like he said this: “Loving him is just a losing game. No matter what I will never win.”

Jens took that as a hint to start talking himself too. He stretched over the table and put his hand on his shoulder, made the boy sit up.

“Hey. It will be alright okay. Tell me what happened next?”

So Robbe told him everything, each word Sander said, which he knew by heart since he has read their messages numerous of times already, spent all night staring at the open chat.

And after he was finally done, he mumbled: “What do you think? I really need some advice right now.”

Jens had no idea what to say, he really wasn’t good at those things but for Robbe, he could at least try.

“How do you feel? What do you want to do?”

Robbe sighed and shook his head.

“That’s the thing Jens, I have no idea, I don’t know. One part of my head is relieved, thinking I will finally be able to forget him but the other part is holding on to the idea of Sander like its life is depends on it.”

“Which part do you want to believe?”

“The first one would be easier but I can’t do that to him anymore, I can’t make him think he did something wrong, I can’t make him think he wasn’t enough or worth it. I just can’t - I - I love him too much for that.”

“Then tell him the truth.” He wanted to add ‘problem solved’ but bit his tongue fast enough, realized it wasn’t simple at all.

“I will lose what we have. I will lose our friendship.” Robbe whined.

Like I haven’t lost it already.

He said in his head.

Listening to Robbe moaning about this wasn’t easy but like his friend, he could see that the poor boy was lost in his own head so he had to take matters into his own hands.

“Sander said that you have to be fully his friend or not at all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to?”

“Do I want to what?”

“Do you want to be his friend?”

“Of course I do, he’s my best friend.” Robbe looked at Jens like he’s grown a second head, judging him because he even dared to ask that question, like the answer was already pretty obvious.

“Then you should be. Like you said, you either have to tell him the whole truth or hurt yourself by being only his friend. I don’t think there is any other option.”

“He’s in a relationship now. Obviously he’d never look at me more then just a friend.”

“Just tell him what you feel. Tell him you want to be with him, be his friend and try. I don’t know what else to say. I like Sander. I like him a lot and you losing him, also means me loosing him and I don’t want that. He needs to learn how to skateboard before he can get out of my sight alright?”

The last sentence made Robbe chuckle sadly, all the time Sander whined about Jens forcing him to learn a trick or two coming rushing in front of his eyes from his memories.

“Also I thought that I was your best friend? I’m hurt!” And he put his hand on his heart jokingly and made a crying face which made Robbe smile.

It was nice, finally taking to somebody about what’s been bothering and going on with him.

Hearing an advice felt amazing.

“You are but he’s different kind of best friend.” Robbe told him and he realized how true that statement was.

Sander was different kind of best friend.

Different kind of person Robbe could tell everything to.

Well everything but this.

“Alright alright. If you say so.”

They were sitting in a comfortable silence, both of them knew that they couldn’t decide anything but it was still nice, talking and discussing this topic.

“Robbe?”

“Hm?” He looked up and saw Jens smirking at him, and was already getting ready to hear something stupid or weird but what Jens said, was different.

It made him feel emotions he couldn’t describe nor point his fingers at.

“Go get your boy.”

Robbe gave him an annoying look.

“He’s not my boy.”

“You’re the one saying that, not him.”

And Robbe only dared to roll his eyes, a weak smile covering his face.

His boy.

It sounded perfect in his head.

Only if....

Only if.

Chapter 13

[janeofcakes]

Soulmates: How John Met Sherlock...Again Chapter 6

Sorry I'm late this time, my friends. I had a busy weekend and have now fallen victim to the blasted cold that's been making its way through my family. I don't seem to have it as badly as my husband did, thank goodness. I'm going to post and answer some comments, so if you get one from me that sounds a little bizarre, it's the cold medicine. Lol.

---

Monday morning is a busy one at 221B. Greg calls with a case in the middle of breakfast that has Sherlock scrambling to conscript Mrs. Hudson into taking Olive to school. He places his daughter’s lunch on the kitchen table next to her backpack and throws on his coat. Tipping down to kiss Olive on the cheek, he whispers I love you and have a good day. With that, Sherlock grabs a piece of toast and rushes from the room.

Olive sits at attention, the adrenaline of watching her father hurry around the room still in her veins, but it wanes as soon as she hears the click of the flat door. She lets out a long sigh and slouches a little into her chair. After the bits and pieces she had observed at Mycroft’s birthday party, she was even more curious about Gracie’s dad than when they left the park on Saturday. Something was off. John had absolutely no problem with her or her father until he met him, but had he only just met Sherlock two days ago? Olive isn’t so sure, especially after the way her uncles acted yesterday when she brought up the playdate refusal.

Olive raises her fork and chews on the eggs thoughtfully. Her father had been extremely irritated yesterday, in spite of trying to hide it, and Uncle Myc was definitely the cause. She has seen them argue before, of course. Perhaps heard is the better word. They avoid it when she is in the room and Uncle Greg usually distracts her somehow. Every so often, curiosity gets the better of her and she sneaks away from Greg to listen. Her father doesn’t seem to have ever gotten on well with his brother. Olive used to wonder if that is why she has no brothers or sisters, but dismissed the idea when she was five. She likes that it’s just her and her dad. The two of them against the world. Olive smiles to herself. Now she has Gracie too.

With that thought, Olive’s mind turns back to John. She had planned on cleverly asking Sherlock questions about him over breakfast and had even started working their conversation in that direction, but then Uncle Greg had phoned. To make matters worse, Mrs. Hudson will get her to school later than usual, effectively robbing her of all the time she has to talk to Gracie before classes start.

Olive grumbles around another bite, cursing the fact that she has to wait until lunch and that’s when inspiration strikes. Their class has library time at 10:30. She and Gracie can go to the computers, but search up John instead of books. Maybe if they know more about his past they can figure out how their fathers know each other because Olive is convinced they do.

Olive is just beginning to determine how best to communicate this to Gracie before library time when the door to the flat opens.

“Yoohoo,” calls Mrs. Hudson pleasantly, “Are you ready, dear? We really must be on our way.”

Olive glances at the clock to see how much time got away from her. Too much. She hops up and places her empty dishes in the sink. Pulling on her coat, she grabs her bag and lunch. Mrs. Hudson is smiling brightly as Olive runs down the hall.

“Good morning, Mrs. H,” Olive breathes as they hug one another tightly.

“Good morning, my darling,” Mrs. Hudson laughs warmly. “I take it Uncle Mycroft’s birthday was a success?”

“Yep,” Olive pops the P as she pulls away to look at her with twinkling eyes. “The cake was delicious. Thanks for the recipe.”

“My pleasure, dear,” Mrs. Hudson waves a hand as they pass through the door. She pulls it closed as Olive starts down the stairs. “And his presents?”

“He loved them,” Olive grins back at the older woman. “We pinned the donkey eight times and I won the most times.”

“Did you? That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Hudson chuckles to herself as she catches up with Olive in the foyer. “I’d give my good hip to see your uncle playing a party game. Must be Gregory’s influence.”

The mention of her other uncle jogs Olive’s memory and she turns, her face filling with glee, as she swings open the door to the building. Mrs. Hudson pauses in front of her, excitement already growing at just the look on Olive’s face.

“Uncle Greg asked Uncle Myc to marry him!” the girl all but shouts, throwing her arms in the air.

“Oh my goodness, that’s wonderful,” Mrs. Hudson clasps her hands together at her chin. “I always knew we’d find one for your uncle. Now we just need to find someone for your father.”

“Yeah!” Olive exclaims before she really considers Mrs. Hudson’s words. She frowns as they walk outside and down the steps to the pavement. They cross to the sleek black car waiting for them. The driver greets them as he opens the back door and they are soon on their way. All the while, one question rattles around in Olive’s mind.

“Do we?” she asks after the car has started moving. She slides her eyes to Mrs. Hudson, who looks at her inquisitively. “Do we want to find someone for Dad?”

Olive swallows loudly in the silence that follows. Mrs. Hudson’s face does not change, she merely tilts her head to the right as she considers. It doesn’t make Olive feel like she has asked something bad, but it was definitely unexpected.

“I mean, it’s always been the two of us,” Olive ventures with some uncertainty, “and things are good. Why add someone else?”

“Don’t you want your father to be happy?” Mrs. Hudson asks and Olive frowns mightily, clutching her bag to her chest tightly.

“He is happy,” the girl mutters defiantly.

 “Oh, of course he is. That’s not what I meant, sweetie,” Mrs. Hudson reaches for her arm and touches it gently. Still glowering, Olive raises her grey eyes to meet the older woman’s soft brown gaze. “Your father loves you dearly and he is certainly very happy. It’s just that his heart has so much love to give and it’s a different kind of love. Like the kind Mycroft shares with Greg. I call it romantic love.”

“Romantic love?” Olive raises a skeptical brow, tiny wrinkles forming on the bridge of her nose.

“Yes,” Mrs. Hudson continues in a solemn tone. “You will feel it too one day when you meet a boy or girl you want to spend your whole life with, to kiss and hug.”

“Like on the mouth?” Olive asks, straightening her spine a bit and pulling her head back. Mrs. Hudson nods with a little smile. “Like Anna and Kristoff?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Hudson laughs. “Just like that. Like Mycroft and Greg.”

Olive’s expression becomes very serious. She shakes her head and releases the vice grip hold on her bag.

“Uncle Myc and Uncle Greg are nothing like Anna and Kristoff,” she says flatly. “They’re more like that older one. Beauty and the Beast.”

“Ha!” Mrs. Hudson crows, throwing up her hands. “I won’t even ask which one’s the beast.”

Olive grins mischievously and ducks her head, laughing with the older woman. The car stops outside the school as their merriment dies down. Mrs. Hudson puts her hand on Olive’s before she moves to leave the car.

“Know that having someone in your father’s life will never make him love you less,” she tells the girl tenderly. “There’s nothing on earth that could ever do that.”

“I know,” Olive says with a grin. She dives for her godmother and gives her a big hug as the first bell rings. 

“Oh no. Hurry, dear, get to class,” Mrs. Hudson shoos her toward the door. “Sherlock will never forgive me if you’re late.”

“Thanks, Mrs. H,” Olive says, popping open the door. She runs for the three-story school building and is inside in minutes.

***

“So we are up to the number five in our multiplication table,” Mrs. Jennings finishes writing a large five next to a line of smaller numbers running from one to nine. She turns to face the class as she explains. Gracie is watching intently like most of the other kids, but Olive’s head is down while she scribbles on a scrap of paper. “As you know, these numbers are basically how many times five is added to itself, but there’s a secret to the number five that makes it one of the easiest to multiply. Start moving along the number line, writing your answers on paper and raise your hand when you know what the secret is.”

Heads go down as everyone begins working through the equations. Just as Gracie jots down twenty-five, she notices a folded scrap of paper on the desk between she and Olive, who is watching out of the corner of her eye. Gracie glances to the side and up to the whiteboard where Mrs. Jennings is slowly walking from side to side to make sure everyone is on task. Gracie licks her lips, leaving just the tip of her tongue poking out as she casually covers the scrap with her palm and slides it close. With the paper on her notebook where it can blend in with her work, she unfolds it and peers at Olive’s writing.

Your dad doesn’t like my dad.

Gracie blinks and furrows one brow while simultaneously cocking the other one. She nearly turns to look at Olive to ask an incredulous ‘What’ with her face, but resists the urge and scratches out a quick response instead. Folding the paper in half and sliding it back to the middle of the desk, Gracie raises her eyes to the front of the room again.

“All right. Who knows the secret?” Mrs. Jennings breaks the silence. “Teri?”

“You start with five and basically count by fives all the way up the line,” the girl answers from her seat in the second row. The pencil in her right hand is poised to write while the index finger of her left hand winds her long red hair around itself. Gracie watches knowingly at the nervous tell. It is just one of the many keys to observation Olive has taught her.

“Perfect. So why don’t we do that together, and remember to write it down as we go,” Mrs. Jennings moves to the whiteboard to write as well.

“Five, ten,” Teri begins and the rest of the class starts in with her until they reach forty-five. 

“And there is our multiplication table for the number five,” Mrs. Jennings remarks and turns back to the class. “Does everyone see how we got that?”

Heads are bobbing up and down when Gracie notices the scrap of paper again. She slips her hand over it and moves it close.

“Good,” Mrs. Jennings is saying. “Let’s move on to number six. Write out the number line with six as your common denominator.”

Gracie quickly does this, if a little messily, and opens the note. Olive’s words are clearly printed under Gracie’s own message.

(Gracie) He just met him.

(Olive) But he doesn’t like him.

Gracie frowns and glances at Olive, who is staring straight ahead at Mrs. Jennings so as not to give them away. Gracie underlines her previous statement and slides the paper back toward Olive. It is back on her side of the desk in no time.

There’s something going on though. He kept looking at Dad like he’d seen him before and he freaked out about a playdate at mine.

Gracie glances in Olive’s direction, wondering how she wrote all of that so quickly. Getting a little irritated by the accusation, she writes hastily in a jerky script.

He didn’t freak out.

She passes it back.

“Good job, Michael,” Mrs. Jennings interrupts Gracie’s train of thought. “Now, what is six times four?”

Gracie quickly scrawls twenty-four in her notebook and looks up to see the note again. She huffs quietly at Olive’s words.

I don’t think he wants to come to my flat. 

Gracie is about to pen a disgruntled response when Mrs. Jennings calls on her. Apparently, her frustration is more evident than she realized.

“Doing okay, Grace?” the teacher asks. “Are you having any trouble?”

“No, Mrs. Jennings,” Gracie answers respectfully. Mrs. Jennings nods and then asks Gracie for the answer, which she gives succinctly. 

“Yes, Grace. Excellent work,” Mrs. Jennings commends her. “Six times four is the same as adding six to itself four times.Does that make sense to everyone?”

Gracie scribbles ‘That’s ridiculous,’ beneath all the other messages. The scrap is getting full now, but her two-word response fits in the space perfectly. She pushes the paper away and starts writing the table for seven. Olive’s reply awaits her when she is finished.

No, it’s not. They obviously have a history.

Gracie grumbles deep in her throat and pointedly underlines ‘He just met him.’ again as Olive watches. The little blonde adds an exclamation point and looks at her friend smugly. Olive purses her lips, turns the scrap over and begins writing feverishly. ‘They KNOW each other.’

Gracie rolls her eyes and tears her own corner from her notebook. She writes quickly and shoves it at Olive, who reads it immediately.

Wait til library time.

Olive looks to her friend and gives a shallow nod right as Mrs. Jennings calls on her.

“Do you have an answer, Olivia?”

“Thirty-two,” Olive says smoothly, directing her eyes to their teacher.

Gracie’s eyes go wide and she looks at her friend’s notebook as their teacher compliments her work. Olive has already written the number line for eight. Gracie is a line behind, in spite of being sure that she was paying attention while reading and writing the last few notes. Thank god Mrs. Jennings had not called on her.

Gracie looks at Olive’s now smug face and blows out a breath that ruffles her bangs. How does Olive do it? It’s like she has two separate brains sometimes. The girls exchange a smile and return their attention to the white board, each one anxiously anticipating the day’s special.

***

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Gracie whispers from her seat across the table, leaning forward for emphasis. After what seemed like days, but was only an hour, their class had lined up and walked to the library. Gracie and Olive immediately went to their usual table where Olive presented all of her evidence, as she called it, that proved their fathers had known each other before meeting in the park. She pointed out everything from eyes widening slightly to changes in tone and bloody shuffling of feet. She noticed Gracie’s dad curling his left hand into a fist, which Gracie has never once seen him do. How did that mean he actually knew Sherlock already and how on earth did Olive notice all these things?

“It makes perfect sense,” Olive insists, her neck craned toward Gracie. She had hunched over, pressing her chest and arms to the table side as soon as she began laying out her analysis. It is her position of choice for intense conversation and plotting. “Just look at all the clues. There’s no other explanation.”

“There are plenty of explanations,” Gracie counters. “Maybe your dad reminds mine of someone.”

“And yours reminds mine too?” Olive barely contains a bark. “Nonsense. No such thing as coincidence.”

“If they know each other, why wouldn’t they just say so?” Gracie throws her hands up as far as she dares in this setting.

“Adults have secrets, Gracie,” Olive mutters in a low voice. “Just like we do. There’s something they don’t want us to know.”

“Like what? They robbed a bank together?” Gracie snorts quietly. “No. I’m sorry, Olive. I can’t believe it. My dad never met Sherlock Holmes before we met you in the park.”

Gracie’s words slow as she reaches the end of the sentence. Olive starts in on trying to convince her, but her voice fades into the background. Things click inside Gracie’s head and for the first time since the conversation began, it all makes sense. Or doesn’t, as the case may be. If her father knew Sherlock, why wouldn’t he just tell her? Why keep it to himself? Gracie presses her lips together in thought. ‘You can have a playdate eventually. Just give me some time,’ he had said. Sherlock is obviously someone he had not expected to run into, but he must have been special to John at some point. Why else would he…

“Are you even listening?” Olive’s irritated tone suddenly breaks through Gracie’s thoughts. She blinks and looks at her friend with wide eyes. Olive huffs. “I’m not going to tell you all over again.”

Olive sits back in her chair, arms across her chest and a petulant look on her face. It only takes a second though before she reads Gracie’s expression and leans in again. Her grey-blue eyes shift rapidly between Gracie’s and she cocks her head slightly in consideration.

“What is it?” her voice is low and brimming with excitement.

“They do know each other,” Gracie breathes, “and they must have liked each other a lot.”

“Why? Why?” Olive can barely stay in her seat and she struggles to keep her voice down. “What is it?!”

Gracie wets her lips, her eyes darting to the right and left, as she leans close.

“My middle name is Holmes,” she tells her friend quietly. 

“What?” Olive gasps in a hushed voice. Then her face swiftly morphs into irritation. “And you’re only just NOW mentioning this?”

The librarian shushes her from across the room instantly and Olive looks at her apologetically. When her focus is back on Gracie again, her expression is less disgruntled and more eager. Still, Gracie starts in right away, wanting to beat her to the punch. 

“It was that first day with Jones and everything in the lunchroom,” she says in a rush. “She kept calling you Holmes and I thought she meant me at first. It was so weird, but I got distracted with hitting her and just sort of forgot about it.”

Gracie stops and watches Olive for a moment. The pieces are clearly falling into place for her too as she stares back with wide, luminous eyes. Her lips are shaped into a perfect O, but she hasn’t made a sound yet. Gracie hops a little in her chair, skooching forward to its edge and placing her hands flat on the table.

“Why would Dad name me Grace Holmes Watson if your dad wasn’t important to him?” Gracie takes in a quick breath when Olive gasps loudly, her hands flying to cover her mouth.

The librarian shushes them again and Gracie smiles a timid apology this time. She nods at the librarian’s silent warning, promising they will do better and then turns back to Olive. Her friend’s face is absolutely astonished, her eyes filled with shock and wonder. Olive knows something. Gracie’s words have pulled some key observation to the front of Olive’s mind and Gracie must know what it is. Now.

Gracie opens her mouth to speak, but Olive’s lips part first. Her voice comes out shaky with emotion.

“Olivia Watson Holmes,” is all she says.

Gracie’s eyes double in size and her face goes slack. They sit for a moment in utter silence, unmoving while the world slows to a stop around them. Gracie’s body is tingling and feels like it’s floating. It is almost too much to believe, like it can’t be real. Surely their fathers must have been best friends for them to name their daughters after each other. But then what happened? How did Gracie’s dad end up in Bath and why did he never mention Sherlock?

“Gracie?” Olive’s eyes are on Gracie when her own come back into focus. Their gazes meet and both brows crease with determination. They are of one mind. There is only one way to find the answers they want.

“Google,” they say together and rise from their chairs decisively, hands planted on the table to push them up.

Minutes later they are each seated in front of a desktop computer in the library lab. As luck would have it, they even got two next to each other and in a corner where their whispers are unlikely to bother anyone. Olive is scrolling through links to article after article from ten to twelve years earlier, all of them solved by Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Meanwhile, Gracie does much the same, though she has just stumbled across a goldmine.

“I can’t believe this,” Olive murmurs in a breathy tone. “Look at all these cases. Your dad is the partner in his stories. Dad’s man, Friday. His conductor of light.”

“Oh my god,” Gracie mumbles in disbelief.

“What?” Olive crowds in next to her and reads the title of the blog on Gracie’s screen. “The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson.”

“They’re all here,” Gracie’s voice sounds far away. She just can’t believe this is all real. “All of Dad’s bedtime stories. The Mayfly Man, The Hounds of Baskerville, The Deadly Tealights, A Study in Pink. Every last one, and more.”

“What do you mean?” Olive asks in a confused tone. “These are all Dad’s cases.”

“Our dads are Sam and Dean,” Gracie stares at the screen, selecting one of the links and scanning the page rapidly.

“Sam and Dean?” Olive furrows her brow. “What are you on about?”

“Remember I told you my dad has these mystery stories that he tells me at bedtime?” Gracie turns to look at her friend urgently. “Two guys named Sam and Dean solve them all. I always thought Dean sounded kind of like Dad, but…” Her voice fades away and she looks back at the screen. “He actually is.”

“Go back to the home page,” Olive says. Gracie complies and Olive points. “Look at this one. ‘My new flatmate.’.”

They both read quickly and then eyes meet, wide with shock.

“They were flatmates,” Gracie breathes, astonished.

“No way,” Olive mutters. “No wonder your dad doesn’t want to come to my flat.”

“Wait, wait,” Gracie clicks back and scrolls, not finding what she wants. “But what happened? Why did he move away?”

She clicks on different links and they both read as their library time ticks away. With only minutes to spare, both girls sit back in their chairs, completely overwhelmed with the knowledge they now possess.

“Dad faked his own death?” Olive is dumbfounded, her face slack with shock. “He never told me that story.”

“Dad got married and just stopped,” Gracie shakes her head in disappointment. “Your dad even wrote the blog about the wedding. I just… I don’t understand. Dad obviously loved what he was doing and with his best friend too. Why would he stop?”

“All right, everyone,” Mrs. Jennings calls from the stacks. “Line up and back to class.”

The girls close their searches after clearing the histories. Olive is always on about covering their tracks. They walk to the end of the line in defeat. Their investigation turned up more questions and confusion than answers. Standing in silent thought as they wait for the line to move, Gracie makes a decision. She has to have answers.

“I can’t not know,” she says sternly, determination bright in her blue eyes. “I’m going to ask Dad about it tonight.”

“What? No!” Olive grabs her arm and Gracie turns to glare. “We can’t just ask them about it. They won’t tell us anything.”

“Then how are we supposed to find out what happened?” Gracie growls with frustration. The line begins to move and she has to turn her back on Olive to walk.

“We’ll carry out our own investigation,” Olive says in her ear. “This is our case. Our first case.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” Gracie grumbles without so much as a glance backwards.

“I do,” Olive’s voice has some of its usual tenacity again. “I’ll teach you at lunch and we can talk to them tonight.”

“I don’t know,” Gracie replies hesitantly. “I’ve never done anything like this before. What if I’m no good at it?”

“Ha,” Olive huffs. “You’ll be a natural. Trust me.”

***

Gracie raises her eyes from the book propped on her chest where she lies on the couch. Lifting her chin just a bit gives her the perfect view of her father sitting in his chair with the day’s newspaper in his hands. At this point in the evening, he has it folded in half so she can easily see his face. Olive said that was of the utmost importance because Gracie will see what John doesn’t say.

Still not sure if she is ready for this, Gracie runs through the list of features to watch for. There are obvious ones like eyes and eyebrows, knee-jerk expressions that are schooled away, mouth movements. Olive went on for some time about how different ways of wetting one’s lips mean different things. Gracie had never realized there were distinctions. Then Olive went on about twitches and other such things that were lost on Gracie. Given the time, she is sure she could learn and understand quite a bit about it all, but certainly not from what little she gleaned at lunch.

Gracie looks at her father again where he sits completely unawares, his eyes moving from left to right across the words on the page before him. With a fortifying breath, she clears her throat and starts with a question she hopes to build on without giving anything away.

“Dad, how long did you have a best friend?” Gracie asks as casually as she can manage, but it comes out sounding more like she placed air quotes around the words best friend. She closes her eyes immediately, supremely disappointed with herself and then pops them open quickly to check on her father. Allowing a tiny sigh of relief upon seeing that John has not even lifted his gaze from the paper, Gracie’s confidence level bounces back up.

John is frowning in thought at the page, so he has definitely heard her. His mouth opens and he looks about to give some cursory answer, but cocks a brow and shifts his gaze to hers instead.

“What?” John replies with a tone of confusion.

“Your best friend,” Gracie continues, lowering her book to lay flat on her chest. “I know you had one.”

“Oh. Right,” John pauses, glancing back at the paper and then looking at her over the top of his reading glasses. “I feel like we talked about this already.”

“We did,” Gracie answers somewhat abruptly, not wanting to give him much time to think on that, “but you didn’t say anything. Just that you solved cases together.”

“Medical cases,” John corrects and Gracie wants to smirk as she thinks ‘Medical cases, my foot’.

“What was he like? What did he do? What’s his name?” Gracie rattles off, even as she hears Olive’s voice in her head reminding her that they can’t just walk in and demand names. Gracie nearly shudders, but hides it with the movement of pulling herself up to sit.

“Whoa, whoa,” John lowers his newspaper to let it rest in his lap. “Where is all this coming from?”

“Well,” Gracie pauses a moment to try and get her thoughts together. She has to salvage this. “Now that I have a best friend, I want to know more about yours. Did you really like him? The way I like Olive?”

“I loved him,” John answers without hesitation and he looks like the candid response surprises even himself. Gracie’s eyes widen tenfold as John clears his throat and shifts the newspaper pages noisily. “We were quite close.”

“Wow,” Gracie breathes. Now she is getting somewhere. She wonders if Olive is having this much luck with her dad. “You must’ve done everything together.”

“We spent a lot of time together, yes,” John says somewhat absently. Gracie tilts her head in amazement. He is trying to affect indifference, like the whole friendship was perfectly normal and not at all a special part of his life, and Gracie can tell. Empowered, she continues.

“Solving cases,” she nudges in a light tone.

“Working on cases,” John corrects for the umpteenth time. “Medical cases.”

“Hmm,” Gracie hums in thought. When John cocks a brow as if wondering what she is up to, Gracie moves for distraction with another question. “Did you have lots of sleepovers?”

Unabashed laughter bursts from John’s lips and the clever girl smiles to herself. Distraction successful.

“No, sweet pea,” John chuckles and then back tracks. “Well, maybe in a manner of speaking. We shared a flat, so I suppose you could say every night was a sleepover.”

“Wow. That would be so awesome,” Gracie repeats, truly in awe for a moment as she thinks of it. Living in the same flat as Olive so they could play all the time and do schoolwork together and she could help with Olive and her dad’s experiments. The thought of Sherlock brings her back around to the task at hand. She aims for idle curiosity when asking the next question. “So what happened to him?”

“Erm,” John’s body visibly gives a slight shudder and a feeling of concern begins to rise up in Gracie’s throat. She bites her lip and considers brushing the inquiry aside when John straightens in his chair. “Sometimes…things happen. Sometimes friends can hurt you. And then Mary wanted to move and we just...left.”

“So Mary wanted to go to Bath,” Gracie has never once called Mary Morstan her mother. John has always just called her Mary, so Gracie does too. It is hard for her to think of Mary as anything since she has no part in Gracie’s life. She found an old wedding photo once, but has never met the woman. “And you just went with her?”

“She was my wife, sweet pea,” John answers simply.

“Well, why didn’t you call him?” Gracie frowns. “Or text?”

“It’s hard to explain,” John sighs. “Sometimes the things adults do are hard to understand.”

“Dad,” Gracie says in a dull voice and blinks her eyes into a roll like she is already a teenager, “I’m eight and a half years old. I can totally understand complicated things and I want to know. I don’t want that to happen with me and Olive.”

“It won’t. Of that I have no doubt,” John assures her with a quiet huff of a chuckle.

Gracie shifts on the couch to face him fully and sets her book aside. Fixing him with a serious expression, she goes in for the kill, a move Olive had explained very carefully.

“You said friends can hurt you sometimes,” she begins, already seeing that her words have the desired effect. “I’m sure they don’t mean to. Can you honestly say that will never happen to me and Olive?”

John lets out a weary sigh, sets aside his newspaper and rises to join her on the couch. He looks at her with soft eyes for a long moment and smoothes back her hair. Gracie licks her lips, looking at him expectantly.

“He hurt me very badly,” John’s voice is little more than a whisper. Gracie can hear the pain and regret in it. “I tried to pretend it wasn’t there, but...it was hard. Very hard. Mary saw it. SHe didn’t like him much in the end, so she did a little looking and found us a place in Bath. We broke off everything, all communication with all of our friends in London. We started over.”

“Damn,” Gracie murmurs before she can think better of it.

“Language, Gracie,” John scolds with a fond frown.

“Sorry,” she says quickly and then pauses a moment before asking tentatively: “Mary’s gone now. She has been for a long time. Would you ever want to be friends with him again?”

John takes a deep breath and stares over her shoulder for a moment. His eyes are far away and almost wistful. She can already see his answer in his expression, but waits to see if he will put it into words.

“Yeah,” he says finally. “I think I would.”

Victory.

John blinks and returns his gaze to his daughter, who is trying not to look too satisfied with her success. He smiles and pulls her into a hug, kissing the top of her head.

“It’s getting late, my Gracie girl,” John says affectionately. “We need to get you to bed.”

“Okay,” they both stand and head for the loo. “Are you going to call your best friend while I’m sleeping?”

“Ah, no,” John answers as if the proposal is absurd.

“What?” Gracie stops cold and stares up at him, looking for clues. She was sure she had solved it. Why wouldn’t he want to call Sherlock? “Why not? You said you want to.”

“It’s been too long, sweet pea,” John says almost sadly. “It’s all in the past and can’t be salvaged. It just happens that way sometimes.”

“But Dad,” Gracie starts, determined to make him see why that is stupid. John’s hands are on her shoulders now and he is gently guiding her to the loo.

“That’s enough for tonight,” he says good-naturedly. “You’ll be grumpy tomorrow if you don’t get enough sleep.”

“Dad!” Gracie lets out a loud declaration, looking back at him as she walks. “I will not be grumpy.”

“Still bedtime,” John reminds with an amused smirk. Gracie turns to face him and crosses her arms over her chest. She narrows her eyes and gives him a stern look, the bridge of her nose wrinkling.

“Fine,” Gracie mutters and quietly stomps to the sink to show her displeasure without enough defiance to get in trouble. John walks away with a half chuckle.

Gracie considers their conversation as she readies her toothbrush and brushes. Her dad would clearly like to be friends with Sherlock again. Gracie thinks he still likes him very much and Sherlock didn’t seem mean or anything when they were at the park. Plus, she has Olive’s word for it too. Why couldn’t they be best friends again? 

Olive will have a plan, Gracie resolves as she spits in the sink. Once she tells her friend all about this at lunch, Olive will have a plan and they can put it into action. Satisfied, Gracie rinses her toothbrush, puts it away and heads to her room for a bedtime story.

---

No mortal danger in this story, but still so many compelling questions! What will happen?? Only The Shadow (ME) knows. Mwahahahaha! Maniacal laughter. Next couple weeks are going to be busy, but I intend to keep on my posting schedule. See you all soon! Love, Jane

@johnlock-rocks

[sibsteria]

cheatercheater [rob benedict]

prompts: ''I'm going to kill you!'', ''I can't believe you.'', ''she's not yours'', ''thanks for nothing''

summary: your fiancé and partner of three years cheats on you, little to your knowledge it's not the first time, but this is the first time at a con.

characters: Rob Benedict, Richard Speight, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Sebastian Roche, Mark Pellegrino

warnings: big time angst, fluffy rob, damn this was long [2139 word count]

part 1/2 | part 2 here

---

It was the end of the con and I snickered at the banter between Rob and Rich as we walked to drop me off to Jensen, he told me to meet me by the public restrooms, romantic right? He said he wouldn't be long out.

''He literally just stood there! I'm not even kidding.'' Rob's voice frequented between pitches as we laughed at the anecdote.

''Seriously, how do you cope with each other?'' I cackled as I held onto Rich for support. We entered the small hallway before the disabled toilets and waited for my mans. I looked at Rob, someone I could never have, this put a damper on my mood. Way before I dated Jensen, I sort of had an eye for the bubbly rock god, but he was always in a relationship. So, of course when I get engaged, he's single.

We waited for around in silence on our phones for ten minutes, the disabled toilets locked, I knock on the door.

''Um, be out in a minute!'' I hear a girl yell, followed by a giggle. I tighten up, Rich notices this and whispers to me.

''I'm sure we're just at the wrong ones, text Jen.'' I do as he says and pull out my phone and message him, hearing a ping come from behind the locked door, this is too much of a coincidence.

''Fuck, I'm late.'' That is so clearly Jensen's voice that I don't even miss a beat before taking out a penny and hijacking the door. Kicking it open, with a blank emotion surging through my face, I don't believe what I'm looking at.

''What a lovely surprise.'' My voice dripping in sarcasm, the venom was paralyzing.

''Shit! Y/n, no! It's not what you think, I promise. God, I said to wait outside here.'' His voice is cracking and frantic as he zips up his fly.

''I really don't think arguing about this is wise, you literally have lipstick on you're mouth and I don't fuck with that. I can't believe you. I get that we aren't doing great, but really?!'' My voice began to raise at the end of my speech.

''What the shit, Ackles?!'' I hear Rob's voice from behind me, not in the usual tone I'm used to.

''I-I don't want to hurt you, never have-'' I cut him off, scoffing.

''Never wanted to hurt me? Well it's too fucking late for that, isn't it?!'' I slip off the beautiful engagement ring entrapped around my finger and flick it to his direction, not really caring where it ends up.

''Please, can we talk about thi-'' This time it wasn't me interrupting.

''Can't you see, Jensen? You've fucked up. She's not yours anymore, and to be frank I respect her for not punching you. You're lucky I have self control, right now.'' Rob's eyebrows are lowered, fierce. His eyes radiating an anger I'd never seen on him, his jaw stiff.

''Shut the hell up, Benedict! This is your fucking fault!'' I could kill him right now.

''No, you don't get to talk to him like that, not after this. I'm leaving, find yourself another hotel room to sleep in, because you're not coming back to ours. We're so done.'' My pitch is lowered, fragile, vulnerable. ''Thanks for nothing, Ackles.'' The hurt reflected from my eyes into his and he looked away, cowardly, unable to face his mistakes.

''Come on, it's time we go, I'll walk you back to your room.'' Rich wraps a comforting arm around me, whilst glaring intensely at Jensen.

''I will too, just to reassure you not all men deserve the death penalty.'' Rob rolls his eyes at the cowardly Jensen and leads the three of us out of the venue. The hotel wasn't far, the car ride back was silent, but not awkward.

---

''Can you believe him?'' I whimper out, the volume of my voice small and meek.

''No, I seriously can't. He had everything anyone could have wanted, a loving fiancé and a happy life. What a fucking waste.'' Rob looked at me, a hand stroking the back of my head as the three of us sat in an arrangement of positions in my hotel room.

''He'd better not show up, I don't think I'd hold back like you did Rob, I'll kick his skull in.'' Rich stirs the brews he had been occupied with, bringing one over for me and Rob before reaching for his. Just as irony would have it, a knock sounded from the door.

''I'll get it.'' Rob stood, bee-lining for the door. ''I swear to- Jared?'' He raises an eyebrow, confusion underlying on his lips.

''I-I heard what happened, he asked me to share my hotel room but I said no and I asked why, it got all emotional and- well, I'm here to confess something, can I come in?'' Jared's hand rested on his neck, a pink-ish embarrassment settled on his cheeks.

''Of course.'' Rob gestured for him to come inside, before texting Sebastian and Mark to meet at your room in twenty.

''He doesn't know I'm here, I had to tell you. I don't know why I didn't say this sooner, maybe due to my loyalty to Jensen but- that...that wasn't the first time he's done that, Y/n. There was another time, on set, with one of the makeup girls. I'm so so sorry I never told you, I wish I di-'' I stopped him from his pity. We never talked much, he didn't know me like he knew Jensen. I respected his honesty, in a way.

''It's okay, there's no use now. I just wish I hadn't been such a...a fucking dumb bitch.'' For the first time since the incident, I cried, I cried hard. Rob nodded for Jared to leave it to him and Rich and he half-smiled back, complying.

''You are not a dumb bitch! He's the dumb bitch.'' Rich kissed my head, consoling me with my head buried in his chest. Rob unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, trying too cool himself.

''He's right, he's not worth your time or tears. You hardly work with him on set, if he talks to you, I'll break his face.'' I couldn't help but snort at that.

''You're not capable of breaking his face, you're the softest guy I know, no offense. That's a good thing.'' I shrug, tears still rolling down my face.

''You know, I'm not even that angry or sad about our break-up. Just at him for cheating on me, that can't be all I'm worth. I guess I could see what was coming with us, I just didn't think he's stoop that low.'' My voice breaks at multiple points.

''You're worth so much, I promise you, priceless. Were things not running smoothly with you guys?'' Richard asks, more concern on his features, if that was possible.

''Ha! Things running is the way to explain it. Things were just running.'' I wipe the tears and snot off my face before lying my head on Rob's lap.

''Why didn't you say anything? You know we support you, everyone does.'' Robs runs his hands through my sweaty hair, not caring about the state it's in from my distress.

''I thought it was just a rough patch, he thought I liked this guy-'' Rob cuts me off.

''Me? He said something back there and I'm just putting two and two together.'' He shrugs, although I couldn't see it.

''Yeah, he wouldn't listen to me when I said we were just close, like I am with both of you.'' I motion to Richard.

Another knock rapped at the door, Rob once again answered, I sat up from his lap and curled my legs into my chest on the sofa.

''Sebas-'' He stops. ''You.'' His voice is gruff and angry.

''Oh, so you're having a threesome with R2 now? That took you no time at all, Y/n.'' Jensen looked at the shirt that fitted Rob, the hurt in Jensen's voice wasn't overlooked, but no one cared.

''No. We are simply putting together the woman you shattered into pieces.'' Rob spits out.

''Just let me talk to her. That's all.'' Jensen's voice erupts from the echoing hotel hallway.

Rob laughs in his face, ''Talk? Of course you can, bud! Are you kidding? You are way past talking. Don't come near her or talk to her, unless it's for a scene on set which even then hardly happens.'' The passive aggressive mode of expression he used at the start was noticeable.

''Please-'' Sebastian and Mark see the commotion from the end of the hall and hurry to your hotel room.

''Woah! More people joining the party, way to be loving fiancé!'' He snaps at me, I storm up to the door, pulling the arriving duo inside.

''Did you even hear what I said? We. Are. Fucking. Done. I'll give you're luggage to Jared, later. Actually, no, I'll give it you now.'' I let go of Sebastian and Mark's hands, they go to ask Rich what's happened.

I grab his luggage still unzipped, aggressing across the room before throwing it out the hotel room, doing the same for all his cases whilst he shouts like a deranged Rachel Berry.

''Are you fucking serious, I love you!'' He screams, gripping on to my shoulders.

''Well, I don't love you! I tried to make it work, it's just not us!'' His grips tightens. ''Ow, you fucking bitch boy, get off!'' I growl, Rob punches him in order to get him off me, the hotel residents must be complaining now. I gasped, not expecting such a move from pacifist Rob.

''Don't fucking touch her, I'm going to kill you!'' Jensen stops before it could go any further.

''Fine. Have your way. Fuck Rob, fuck Rich for all I care. I knew you were in love with Benedict, this was all the confirming I needed.'' He hold his jaw, a gruff force in his vent. He zips up the two of his cases, barrelling the contents back into them.

''Fuck you!'' I screamed, red hot face, tears streaming down.

''Fuck you!'' He shouted back, it echoed through the building floor, I guess we can expect a call from reception soon.

I was shaking before Rob took me into his chest, sobbing.

''I-I-'' He shushed me, in a nurturing manner.

Rich started to explain to the two men that were awkwardly seated on the ugly red couch. All I could do was listen to the heart beat of the man holding me while I broke down, hearing the anger from the three behind us.

---

After a frustrating call from the hotel lobby, we break out the alcohol.

''He's such a hypocrite, he cheats and then comes in here, accusing me of shagging you all!'' I laugh at the hysterics of it all yet still fuming, I've calmed down after a couple shots of liquor from the mini bar- and I mean mini bar.

''Yeah- and then tries to say you're in love with Rob.'' Mark chuckles into his scotch.

My laugh is weak with no smile and R2 notice it, the others too busy loud-mouthing.

''Okay, it's late, and it's been a long day. I suggest we pack ourselves up and let the lady sleep.'' Rich takes the array of glasses to the sink, before ushering the boys and himself out, winking at Rob beforehand.

''Look, Y/n-'' Before he could start, I did.

''It's not a secret that I like you, Rob, not now. Do with it what you will, I've got baggage, whether you like me or not.'' I huff, wiping my hair from my face.

''I do, I really like you. I never said anything, because I thought you loved Jen, before you even dated. I thought there was a connection, I was wrong. But you and I? There's a connection and I know it, I've got baggage too. Please, not right away or even- right away, but give me chance to be the love he couldn't be.'' It was surreal to hear the words leave his mouth.

''As long as no one hears about this, apart from Rich because he's a fucking mind reader. I'll give you the biggest chance I can. It's been my dream since I met you.'' I confess, leaving his speech in the dust.

''Can I kiss you? Unless you're not ready for tha-'' Damn boy needs to shut his mouth.

I kiss him like I've never kissed anyone, pouring everything I have into it, his hands holding my head with care.

''Don't say anything, just be here tonight?'' He knew I wasn't asking to fuck, I just wanted comfort and company.

He nodded and joined me in the open bedroom, he stripped down to his underwear and I did the same, fishing out a shirt for me as well. We had changed in front of each other before, awkwardness, who?

''Sorry I don't have anything for you except a random shirt that fell out of his luggage. And you're not wearing that.'' He smiles and brings me into a hug when I lay on the covers, too warm for the duvet.

''I don't care.''