#WAIT IS HIS MIDDLE AND LAST NAME DANGER BREAKER

[jaedoesart]

doodle page time <3

featuring Brubus ( @smoresthehalloweenqueen ) and Camin ( @rarestdoge )

[wh6res]

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic. 

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane." 

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears. 

"bitch," you mutter under your breath. 

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again. 

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?" 

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway. 

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?" 

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him. 

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath. 

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement. 

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year. 

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her. 

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" 

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living. 

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing." 

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done. 

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way. 

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement. 

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears. 

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend. 

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word. 

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel. 

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode. 

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information. 

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics. 

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve. 

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too. 

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today  —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?" 

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind. 

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head. 

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest. 

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!" 

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys. 

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history." 

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said. 

"do you really want to know why?" 

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart. 

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss. 

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone. 

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment. 

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day. 

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor. 

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down. 

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud. 

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand. 

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't… 

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper. 

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused. 

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going. 

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back. 

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video. 

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers. 

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples. 

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration. 

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin. 

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day. 

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder. 

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp. 

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time. 

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside. 

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home. 

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off. 

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung. 

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him. 

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with. 

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it...  but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you. 

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob. 

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face. 

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Good Team | B.W.

Pairing: Bill Weasley x fem!reader

summary: Right after you graduate from Hogwarts you manage to get a job as a curse breaker at Gringotts. You surprise your dear friend, Bill, as the two of you get an assignment together, to find precious manuscripts, in a place believed to be only a legend. word count: 7696

warnings: language, cigarettes (Bill is a smoker), briefly nudity (a shower), food and drinking, alcohol, a bit of violence, an injury

a/n: It’s finally here! I’ve been working on this one for so long, seriously, but it was a lot of fun. It’s my first Bill fic and it is pretty long so I’m a bit anxious, so if you liked it, please do leave some feedback, it means the world to me!

tags: @izzyyy-1​ ; @amourtentiaa​ ; @thisismynerdyself​ ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ ; @lumos-barnes​ ; @hufflepuffalice​ ; @slytherclawbitch​ ; @famdomhideout​ ; @mollenniumfalcon​ ; @accioweaslcy​​

 You drew the string on your trusted backpack and patted it gently.

You looked around the room one last time - mostly to calm yourself down rather than to actually check whether you had forgotten anything - if you had, you wouldn’t have noticed it anyway.

You picked the backpack up with ease, even though its contents would allow you to survive in the wilderness for weeks. Thanks to your fresh, new job, you had obtained a permit to charm it with the Undetectable Extension Charm.

You threw on your dragonhide jacket, then glanced at your watch while tying the shoelaces of your boots – 10 minutes till you were supposed to be at Gringotts to pick up your Portkey. Just enough time.

The day for William Weasley started ordinarily. He was supposed to be back at work at 9 A.M., after having a few days off thanks to an assignment well completed, to receive a new one.

He also knew someone new, from England, was going to assist him on this one. It wasn’t uncommon for him to work with others, curse-breaking was a highly dangerous, often tricky profession, after all, so he didn’t put much thought into it. Maybe apart from hoping they wouldn’t make his job more difficult for him, which was fair.

He had woken up in the small flat he was renting in the city. Having grown up on the outskirts of a small village in Devon, living in a big city was an entirely new thing to him – with all it had to offer. He quite enjoyed that, so even though he was out on the job rather often, he opted to rent a flat in the city and commute to work, outside of it, by apparition.

The flat was pretty shabby, but he didn’t need much. The bed in his small bedroom was situated in just the right spot in relation to the window, that most of the year the sunrays hit him in the face, waking him up, at just the right time – like today.

He got up and grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to pull on after a quick shower. Then he had a mug of coffee with a quick breakfast. The grounds at the bottom of the mug stubbornly got into his mouth a few times, but he didn’t care really – he just spit them out and took another sip, glancing at the clock while the news reporter on the Muggle radio spoke in the background.

Bill could understand a few words here and there at this point – the man presented the weather forecast, as Bill was finishing his coffee and cleaning up after himself.

A quick change of clothes and a teeth brushing later, he was glancing at himself in the broken mirror of the tiny entry hallway. He seized a hair tie off a dresser and tied the upper half of his shoulder-length hair into a ponytail, then apparated to the headquarters of the Egyptian Gringotts branch.

Standing by the Portkey with less than a minute to go you felt slight nerves in your stomach. You couldn’t know if this was the excitement of your new job and finally getting to see and surprise Bill, or just the anticipation of the unpleasant feeling of travel you were about to experience.

You had no time to dwell on it. “Miss Y/L/N,” the goblin called out your name to signal you, and you grabbed the broken clock, then a few seconds of your insides turning later, you were standing in some kind of hall.

“Miss Y/L/N, right this way, please,” before you could have a look around, another goblin spoke from behind your back now, evidently not wanting to waste any time.

You were brought to an office and told to wait for your new supervisor to fill you in. You had a feeling this would take long, and you were right.

The office decor was quite unlikely for goblins, there was no grandeur – on the contrary, it looked rather mundane, and very beige. You got to study the appearances of Mr Wickedgher – the goblin you were waiting for – and his predecessors a few decades back. Behind the small window covered by aluminium blinds, you saw ordinary buildings on the other side of the street.

After a while, you started bouncing your knee up and down, while admiring Wickedgher’s quill arrangement – it was very neat. There were a few moments where you heard voices in the corridor outside the door, but they passed by.

Finally, the fourth time it happened, after a voice unmistakably belonging to a goblin, you heard a very familiar, deep and warm wizard’s voice. You straightened up in your chair a bit, (as if it mattered,) then got up when the door opened.

Bill was shocked to see you, just as you expected. You put your warm greetings off until you were done with this meeting. You couldn’t tell if Wickedgher picked up on the fact that you and Bill knew each other – and if he did, he didn’t really care.

You sat on the edge of your seat when he spoke – you had only received a brief description of your assignment in England and it seemed as if Bill knew nothing. Even though they were stationed in Egypt, the goblins were sending you into the middle of Europe upon learning some new facts concerning a legend previously believed to be made up. The task, although very challenging, seemed exciting.

“We were able to confirm one location you can start with, I’m afraid you’ll have to take it from there. We have prepared you a Portkey that will depart tomorrow at 7 A.M. precisely. Any further questions?” your boss asked calmly, glancing at a drawer in his desk very briefly.

You thought intensely – this was your first job, nothing came to mind now, but was there anything else you could ask about? Anything you should ask about?

You put your faith in Bill. He glanced at you after a second, to check if you were going to say anything, then replied, “We’re good, Wickedgher. Anything else today?” “I suppose you could use the time to show our new recruit our office, but nothing apart from that. Just make sure you’re on time tomorrow.” “Will do,” Bill said and you nodded, then you grabbed your backpack lying at the foot of your chair and the two of you left the office.

Bill had his back turned to you. A cheeky, slightly shy smile made its way onto your face. He turned around with arms crossed on his chest and an eyebrow raised, suppressing a smile. “Got something to say to me?”

You grinned at him, saying “surprise?”, and you saw him break, so you reached up to embrace him. He gave you a tight, Bill, bear hug.

“Why haven’t you told me, you rascal?” he chuckled, still holding you a couple of seconds longer. “I wanted to surprise you..! I applied right after I got my N.E.W.T. results and they reached back two weeks after. When they told me I was going to Egypt I knew I had to keep it a secret, though I didn’t know they were gonna give us a mission together until three days ago,” you explained, still beaming at him. When you decided to become a curse-breaker during your fifth year at Hogwarts, working alongside Bill once again seemed like a dream. No matter how helpful the rest of your friends have been over the years, you didn’t feel as good with any of them by your side, during your curse-breaking feats, as you did with Bill.

“That would be because I’ve just finished working on one nasty tomb down south then,” he told you, his facial expression saying he was just recalling that particularly difficult task he clearly just wanted to forget about.

Bill showed you around the few spaces to your disposition during work and you took some time to go over all the evidence you had been provided with, and prepare yourself for the assignment. Then the two of you decided to grab lunch and coffee together, to catch up.

“So where are you staying? Renting anything?” Bill conversed, lighting a cigarette, as the two of you sat at an outside table of a small café. “No, not yet. They still haven’t told me if I’m gonna be stationed here, or for how long. And as for today - I wasn’t really expecting to have to stay the night here just yet. I thought we were leaving right away,” you admitted, you still haven’t figured out where you’d be sleeping that night. “Oh- then, you can crash at mine. It’s not much, but it would be hard to find anything for you on such short notice…” Bill offered, concerned.

You felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement. But then you supposed crashing on the floor of his flat was nothing in comparison to what you were probably gonna go through very soon.

“Thanks, Bill, I appreciate that,” you smiled at him kindly.

You followed behind him on the narrow staircase of the old apartment building, after a day full of walking around the city. On the fourth floor, Bill walked up to one of the doors, fumbling in the pocket of his jeans for the keys. Standing by his side, you had an odd mixture of feelings.

At 18, most of your friends still lived with their families. It was a part of stepping into adulthood, but nonetheless, it felt strange to think that you were about to walk into a friend of yours’ own flat.

Upon entering the tiny space, you saw Bill everywhere. It did look like a 20-year-old’s place. There was a faint smell of cigarettes present and it was quite tidy, but not Molly-like immaculate. Just like Bill – the most laid-back Head Boy Hogwarts has ever had.

Going from the tiny entry hall there was a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a room serving as a living room and a bedroom, with a foldable couch.

“I was speechless too when I first saw it,” he joked, making you chuckle. “Make yourself at home, Y/N! You thirsty, want something to drink, water..?” He walked over to the kitchen and visually searched it. “Nah, I’m good for now, thank you,” you replied, walking over to the couch after setting down your bag. “…Booze..?” he continued, in a tone pretending to be ashamed of the question, a single hand holding a bottle poking out of the archway. “Sure, Weasley, let’s get hammered the night before a job. 7 AM, remember?”

“Eh, suit yourself,” he said, stretching his back while he walked over to the window. The sun was setting, the room was illuminated by its pinkish-orange rays. He opened the window, reaching one of his hands into his back pocket for a smoke.

You walked up next to him and leaned on the windowsill.

It was a beautiful evening. The warm air was blowing in your face, the sun setting low and you lost yourself, enjoying that moment. You felt an immense sense of freedom, like you could do just about anything at that point. Nothing was stopping you, all worries and responsibilities forgotten. All you felt was the open world in front of you, and Bill next to you. You were happy.

“We should probably get an early night. A good rest before leaving for Merlin knows how long won’t hurt,” Bill reasoned, breaking the silence, as the smoke from his last drag was leaving his lips. The sun was almost fully set now, the inside was getting dark. He stubbed the cigarette out on the outside of the wall, then tossed it into an old jar, already half-full with others.

“Right, yeah…” you nodded, pulled out of your daydream. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?” he asked.

You felt a bit odd using his shower, though just like any shower outside of home.

After turning the water on you allowed yourself to relax a bit. You took a look around the kind of cosmetics he used and it felt like learning some deep secrets.

You lathered your body and tried not to think about the less pleasant part of your job, namely, when would the next time you get to take a proper shower be, after this one.

A double knock on the door startled you. “Would you like tea?” William asked from behind the door. “Uhm… yes..?” you replied, subconsciously covering yourself. Even though there were a closed-door and a wall between you, it felt strange to speak to him while you were naked. After that, he was gone again, and you quickly finished your shower.

When you walked out, the couch was unfolded and the bed was made. On the floor, some distance from it, laid a make-shift bed out of blankets.

Bill was in the kitchen, sitting by the small table, looking out the window with a steaming mug in his hands. Another one was waiting for you on the other side of the table.

He looked up at you as you walked into the room, then sat down opposite him. “Thank you,” you said, sliding the mug closer to yourself. “I like having one before sleep,” he confessed, referring to the tea.

When Bill was taking a shower you had a look into your backpack, preparing for the morning, then looked out the window some more to pass time.

He walked out in a pair of boxers and a loose, weird sisters t-shirt. You wondered if that was how he usually slept or if he put the shirt on because of you.

A bit hesitantly, you walked over to the bedding on the floor, ready to tuck in for the night, but he stopped you.

“You didn’t think that when I offered you a place to crash, I’d make you the one sleeping on the floor,” he pretty much stated. “Noo,” you replied sheepishly, both of you knowing well that you did.

You walked over to your spots and laid down in silence, then you could hear the rustle of Bill’s bedding as he tried to get comfortable.

“Thank you, Bill,” you said, quietly. “Not a problem,” he replied, and you rolled onto your side to sleep.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, sounding as if he were falling asleep already. “Good night.”

When you woke up it was already bright outside. You rolled onto your other side and saw that Bill was still asleep.

He was sleeping without covers, curled up in a ball. His long hair was messy and his face half-buried in the pillow. You let yourself look at him for a moment with a small smile on your face.

Glancing at the clock, it was still early. You closed your eyes back, to wait until he woke up. When you opened them again, you could smell the breakfast being cooked.

Bill was trying to be as quiet as possible so you wouldn’t have to be up earlier than necessary. As soon as you realised what was going on, you felt giddy. You stretched in bed, then got up. When Bill heard the commotion, he poked his head out of the kitchen.

“Morning,” you greeted with a smile upon seeing him, making your way to where he was. “Good morning, colleague,” he replied, then got back to making food.

He appeared to have washed up and dressed already, his hair half-tied up into a bun. You sat by the table, wincing after hearing the term. “Colleague?” you asked, not amused by that banter. He chuckled with his back turned to you, but didn’t reply. “Tea, coffee?” he asked sunnily instead. “Coffee, please.”

He poured some into a mug, then placed the ready food on a plate and carried all that to you at the table.

“Thank you, Molly,” you couldn’t help yourself.

Bill snatched a kitchen rag off the counter and with an angry expression, placed his hands on his hips. The resemblance was uncanny and you found that funnier than you probably should’ve.

With a smirk, he let go of the act after you giggled and joined you at the table with his own plate and mug.

“How did you sleep?” he asked. “Pretty good, thank you. It didn’t take me too long to fall asleep in the evening. And I actually woke up before you did, but fell back asleep.” “Oh, wow.” “Yeah, how was your sleep on the floor? You seemed to be pretty comfortable,” you giggled to yourself, recalling the image. Bill cleared his throat, “I am a man of many talents, and sleeping anywhere is one of them.” “Okay, then…” you suppressed another chuckle.

“How d’you feel before your first job?” “Excited, I guess?” you answered truthfully. “I think I’ll do okay. You always said I’d be a good curse-breaker…” “And I stand by that.” “How did you feel right before your first job? What was it, some castle ruin in Wales..?”

“Mhmm, yeah…” he mumbled, chewing on his food. “I remember not being able to get a good rest because Fred and George stayed up and had a little emergency. They mixed up the powder of a few different types of fireworks and almost blew the whole house up. Excited to go to Hogwarts, they were. Charlie and I had to help them fix it without waking mum up so she wouldn’t find out,” he grunted. “So you’re already one up on me.”

Bill extended his hand to you, to help you up after you’ve fallen out of the Portkey.

“Ahh, I thought I was getting the hang of it, I landed in Egypt pretty gracefully,” you grunted while getting up, brushing gravel off of your butt. “Practice makes perfect, love,” Bill commented, already scanning your surroundings.

You found yourself on a dirt road, and though the opening for the path was pretty wide, there were miles of woods surrounding you. You had a rough idea where in central Europe you were situated, in a valley between mountains. You didn’t expect to find what you were you were looking for so easily, however, so all maps you could need were securely in your backpack.

The weather was pleasant, much cooler than Egypt for sure, but it was still the middle of summer. You tapped the watch on your wrist with your wand to change it to local time.

“6:06 AM – look, we went back in time…” you joked stupidly and Bill looked at you with a half-smile.

“We should move. From this spot, it shouldn’t take us too long to find some clues mentioned in those notes.”

Your goal was to find a tower, where over 500 years ago, a wizard named Halllegend Hugshot supposedly lived and carried out his research and experiments. The fruit of said research was the true purpose of your mission.

The only real problem was that apart from a few lucky apprentices, nobody has ever seen the tower. Halllagend was believed to have disappeared without a trace somewhere off the coast of the Black Sea, and the folk from a nearby dwelling, long abandoned and in ruin, said the area was always empty, uninhabited. And till that day it was believed to be only a legend, magical historians saying that Hallagend never set foot in that part of the world.

You went on quite the hike through the woods, the only thing to guide you were vague notes and a few inaccurate maps from the middle ages. Dawand Davisshot, for example, would find his way to his mentor’s residence by cutting through a cave that has collapsed centuries ago.

You and Bill had your lunch on the way, wanting to make as much progress as you could before setting up camp. Hours were passing, you’ve made your way up a smaller mountain and the only thing keeping you from believing you were completely lost – were occasional sightings of things like peculiar rocks or old trees that may have been the landmarks mentioned by the apprentices.

“You think when we get there, what’s next?” you questioned Bill a bit out of breath, to relieve boredom, well into the afternoon. “Hmm?” Bill muttered, pulled out of his thoughts. “We find the tower, we high five, we get inside and then what? See a desk in the middle of the room, and on it, a pile of parchment rolls waiting for us to take them? What do you think the place is going to look like?” “Guess I haven’t thought about that in much detail. Could be anything... But I doubt a regular building would’ve remained uncharted for that long,” he pointed out. “I suppose,” you agreed. “I’m just hoping for no dragons inside. I’ve had my share of dragons…” you mumbled, recalling your venture to the portrait vault and mostly, the time you joined Bill on his job at a dragon sanctuary.

You’ve noticed that he stopped and hesitated to go further, looking around and down at the ground.

You dug your foot around a bit. The ground was covered with dense thickets, it was easy to blend in with the rest while walking. Underneath, however, was not soil, but solid rock.

“Good one, Weasley,” you praised, having a closer look, and he didn’t reply. The mineral was like nothing you’ve seen before. You didn’t reckon it was Muggle.

When a single ray of sunshine got through the leaves above, when the clouds moved with the wind, shining on it, it almost glowed.

“The place looks like what Humpty Wanderer or whatever his name was described…” Bill observed, suspiciously. “Where’s the tower, though,” he didn’t hide his mild annoyance.

It was true, the opening in the trees stuck out in the middle of the woods, and all that rock seemed justly out of place.

With the lack of a better idea, you took your wand out and raised it. “You think a simple spell will break his defences?” Bill quipped defiantly.

Ignoring him, you opted to start with the simplest one – you cast Revelio nonverbally and the mineral started to glow underneath the cover. You could see now that it covered all of the circular area of the opening in the trees.

You looked at Bill with the smuggest smile. “Shove it,” he retorted in a friendly manner, then flicked his wand to get rid of the thicket. The general glow subdued and shapes started to reveal themselves. Shapes you recognised to be runes.

“HA!” you laughed “Don’t take ancient runes for your newts, it’s good for nothing, d’you know how boring it is?” you mocked the voice of Bill from a bit over two years ago, when you were finishing your fifth year at Hogwarts, about to start your sixth year, and he – graduate.

“Yeah, I take it back, alright… I’d be fucked without you,” he muttered, studying the shapes without understanding. Instinctively, you’d counter that. But instead, you smiled idiotically to yourself at those words, reading a bit too much into them.

Bill looked up at you expectantly and you blushed a bit. “So… would you..?” he prompted, bringing you back to reality. “Ah..! Yeah, yeah, of course…” you muttered, then went on to translate the message.

“It says the passage can be opened on the night of the new moon… the new moon..?” you looked at him desperately. Waiting around for the right phase of the moon didn’t sound very pleasant to you. “No, no, that’s in a few days. What is it today, the 22nd ?” “Yeah.” “Then that’s three days from now,” he said, with focus written on his face.

It made you feel a bit guilty, as if by translating the message you were the one making you two sit around and do nothing in the middle of nowhere.

You set up camp in a pleasant spot not far. Being one to fear an encounter with wild animals after dark, you made sure to set up magical barriers as well.

The tents Gringotts provided its curse-breakers weren’t the most luxurious, the goblins had better things to spend their gold on. Your tent consisted of two rooms – one, middle-sized, with a bunk bed, a table that could fit four people and a small, very basic kitchenette. Off to the side was a bathroom.

“Shotgun the top bunk,” you announced after Bill finished setting up the tent and the two of you walked in. He tutted and swore.

That evening you prepared supper for the two of you and as a peace offering after snatching the superior bunk, you also made some tea.

“Bill..!” you called out to him when you were done. He had been hanging around before, then disappeared. “Out here!” he answered, by the sound, from somewhere near the tent entrance.

Upon stepping outside, you saw two foldable chairs and a table, and Bill standing next to them, looking unsure.

“Ah, making a house feel like home,” you commented and Bill winked in reply.

You sat outside as it was getting dark. Your moods were mixed after that eventful day. You were exhausted after the whole day of walking and you weren’t exactly happy with what you discovered. You couldn’t know what would happen on the night of the new moon. All left to do now was wait around for three days and it could still be for nothing.

But you supposed it could still have been worse.

And so both of you weary, you got ready for bed and clambered into your bunks. You turned off the light and tried to get comfortable in the cold camp-bed.

“Night, Y/N,” said Bill, yawning, bringing you a bit of comfort. “Good night, Bill.”

And so the first day ended.

When you woke up the next day, your whole body ached. Bill was already up, it was past 11 AM. After making a teasing remark about how well you slept, he disappeared somewhere, while you groggily ate ‘breakfast’ and got ready for the day.

He was still absent when you finished, so unsure what to do with your time, you grabbed a book you took the liberty of packing into your backpack. However, after you positioned one of the chairs in the shade underneath a tree, you managed to read half a chapter before you saw him walking back towards the tent.

You were curious as to what he was doing but didn’t want to appear nosy. Glancing up from your book with a small smile, you showed you had acknowledged his presence, and hoped he’d start talking first.

He smiled back and walked past you, inside. You fought a battle with your curiosity, your fingers almost ready to close the book.

But you reopened it fully in haste and pretended to be immersed in it, when he came back out a minute later, after having refilled his water bottle.

He placed the second chair next to you and sat down with a heavy sigh. Agonizingly slow, he opened the bottle and quenched his thirst.

“What’re you reading?” he asked, curiosity in his voice.

You tried not to show your mild disappointment and raised up the book to show him the cover and let him see for himself.

“Mhmm… I’ve heard about it. I read her last book and wondered if this one was any good.” “I’ve barely read a few chapters but so far it’s alright,” you pondered.

Bill hummed in response. He leaned back in his chair and looked up into the bright sky, closing one eye due to the sun poking through the leaves.

“I took a walk and had a look around the area,” he started. You hummed this time. It was exactly what you were waiting for. “Yesterday not enough for you?” you asked. “Why, muscles achy?” he teased you, nudging your leg with his. He was fit, you had to give it to him. Ignoring your groan, he continued – “I found a nice spot by the cliffside. Maybe we could go there tonight.” “Why do you wanna hang around a cliff edge during the night?” “I thought it would be good for stargazing if the sky’s clear,” he explained, making you suddenly feel a few degrees hotter at the thought. “If we’re to camp here, might as well do something worthwhile in the meantime,” he reasoned.

“Wow…” you exclaimed, after arriving at your destination as the sun was setting.

This spot showed a clear view of the valley and the stream running through it. You could see all the surrounding mountains and the different various layers of flora at different heights.

“Told you,” Bill said in an undertone.

The cliffside itself didn’t look as dangerous as you had imagined. The spot was actually quite cosy, you felt sheltered. You put a thick blanket over a large log to sit on it.

The two of you admired the view almost wordlessly until the sun was fully set.

The starry sky prompted a bit of nostalgia in both of you. You reminisced your years at Hogwarts, talking of your shared adventures and friends. Of how you visited the Burrow for the first time and almost sabotaged your trip, wanting to prepare a gift for the Weasleys. Or how indecisive Bill had been with his career choice in his OWL year.

A cloudless sky during the night caused a chill in the air. The two of you had brought blankets but you still subconsciously sat a bit closer to Bill and leaned into his side, as he leaned back on his arms, looking up at the sky.

“Good thing I went with curse-breaker in the end,” he stated. “Yeah… and here we are,” you chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said. Bill sounded different that night. He spoke in a tone you’ve never heard before. It was simultaneously deeper and softer, reaching into your very soul. And without thinking, you somehow spoke differently, too. Your voice was sweet and tender.

“We just make a good team,” you claimed with a smile. “Yeah,” he agreed.

There was a bit of a pause after that, after which he added – “…and I’d have bored my ass off otherwise,” making you laugh. “This camping trip’s not so bad after all…”

“Aaah, ah..! I almost forgot!” he began, straightening up abruptly. “I packed this…” he muttered, reaching into his own bag to retrieve a thermos with two mugs, one for each of you. He flicked his wand and the mugs filled themselves in the air, then floated into your hands.

And so the custom was followed. You went back into the tent before too long, and when Bill wished you a good night that time, it felt somehow better, spreading warmth through your body.

And so, the second day ended.

You felt a gentle stroke on your shoulder, that had nothing to do with what you were dreaming of. In an instant, you couldn’t even remember what you were dreaming of.

“Y/N…” Bill said quietly, standing next to the bed as you laid on your side with your back turned to him, and woke you up completely.

He retreated his hand, you took a deep breath, slowly opening your eyes, and stretched. When you turned, you saw him leaning his forearms on the railing. “I made breakfast and got tired of waiting,” he admitted, smiling a bit.

Indeed, you could smell food and coffee waiting for you at the table. The air was considerably chillier than the two previous days. When you got up and pulled a hoodie over your head, Bill opened the door a little to let a bit of natural light inside.

You sat at the table together, not saying anything, and for a moment you forgot why you were there in the first place. You forgot how inconvenient the delay seemed at first. You couldn’t place the feeling, but you were really happy about spending that time with Bill.

There he was, with all his cool aura – his hair half-tied up at the back per usual, slight stubble on his face, wearing a loose, grey t-shirt, fitted jeans and boots. And you got to see him with his resting face on, then furrowing his eyebrows slightly as he wondered whether to put raspberry or strawberry jam on his toast, while he sipped on his morning coffee. And nobody, and nothing else around.

He looked up suddenly, noticing you haven’t touched anything yet and pulling you back to reality, his blue eyes pierced into you. You dropped your gaze instantly and he did the same, you felt the heat reach your cheeks right away.

He cleared his throat quietly, possibly making the situation more awkward. “The weather got worse,” he began, having made his decision concerning the jam. “Yeah, it’s chilly, isn’t it?” you chuckled, hugging the hoodie tighter around yourself. Bill turned to you with a smile and you noticed once again, that he was wearing a t-shirt. “Right, of course…” you recalled all the times at Hogwarts when you’d wrap yourself in jackets and scarves, while he walked around in barely a thin long-sleeve.

You spend the rest of the morning each doing your own thing. It started raining in the early afternoon, providing you with the background noise of pitter-patter, the droplets hitting the tent’s surface.

Bill suddenly remembered he had packed his set of wizards’ chess, which kept you entertained for about a couple of hours.

“It is still gorgeous outside, though,” Bill pointed out, pulling the fabric covering the entrance back a bit to take a look.

He walked over to his bag with a purpose, grabbed a hoodie and pulled it over his head. “Care to join me..?” he asked. “In what?” you questioned in reply, confused as to what he had in mind. “Getting a bit of fresh air,” he answered, matter-of-factly. You stared at him with an expression suggesting the idea wasn’t very appealing, which only seemed to make him smile wider.

He snatched his jacket and throwing it at you, said – “Come on..!” with a grin, then pulled the hood over his head and walked outside.

Fully certain you had gone insane, you put on his jacket and joined him. He looked completely unbothered, content just standing there. Having cast the umbrella charm, you quickly skipped over to cover him too.

Bill dried a part of a boulder for you to sit on. “See? Pretty nice,” he noted and you scoffed in response. But his shit-eating grin meant you couldn’t keep a straight face.

It wasn’t bad, despite the rain it was quite sunny. You had Bill’s jacket on, keeping you warm from the wind, surrounding you in his scent, and his mood was contagious.

He reached into the pocket of his jeans. “You wanted to go out just so you could have a smoke, didn’t you?” you quipped. “Not just for that,” he countered with a cheeky smile, putting the cigarette between his lips. “Remind me, have I asked you before what your mum said when she found out that you smoke?” you put on a face of the deepest thought. “…she doesn’t know,” he answered, lighting it.

He was right, it was pretty nice.

You sat in comfortable silence. When he finished smoking, you put your head on his shoulder, almost pulled in. It came to you without another thought, to wrap your arm around his, your other hand resting in his elbow, and he rested his cheek on top of your head.

The sound of rain all around you, tapping against the leaves above brought you a sense of serenity. You looked at the sky above, wondering if you could perhaps spot a rainbow somewhere, as the sun poked through the clouds for a moment.

You felt the gentle weight lift off of your head and, almost instinctively, you lifted your head too.

“Do you think I’d look good with earrings?” Bill asked, thinking deeply.  “Or just like one, maybe..?” You chuckled, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this guy.

“Probably depends on what kind of earrings you’re thinking of…” “Something cool,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Ah, of course. Well then, I guess so. Would match your vibe,” you said without much thought, not looking at him.

He was suspiciously quiet, so you turned your head and saw the mischievous smile. “So I’m cool, huh?” he shrugged his eyebrows.

“Forget I said anything,” you shook your head again and tried not to smile or blush. “Fat chance. I’ll store this one deep down,” he announced. “Though I may have heard that one once or twice before…”

You had no witty comeback for that, and your façade cracked quickly. You started laughing and Bill joined in quickly. It felt light-hearted.

You didn’t know when his face had gotten so close to yours, he brushed a strand of hair off your face and his hand stayed on your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin delicately and you leaned closer, leaving the last step to him.

He connected your lips, yet they were barely touching. He tested the kiss as if he expected you to push him away any second, and when he pulled away it left you awakened and frustrated.

He saw that in your eyes, while his showed shock. He kissed you once again, passionately this time, pulling you in. You kissed him back with just as much emotion, you wrapped your arms around his neck and his hood got pulled off in the moment. You failed to realise you broke the umbrella charm. One of his hands remained on your face, cupping your jaw, while the other found your waist, both of them felt as if they were made to be there.

He pulled away reluctantly. Only then you realised just how soaked the two of you were and laughed about it. Needless to say, you ran back to the tent hastily, to dry yourselves off.

And that night you could safely say that it felt, by far, the best out of all the previous times, to be wished good night by Bill when he lied next to you in the warm bed, as the sound of rain lulled you to sleep.

And so, the third day ended.

The final day before the new moon, the weather was considerably nicer.

You didn’t talk much on your way there. It was getting dark quickly, but you could see the spot in the distance – the almost courtyard-like area where the tower, or the passage to it, was supposed to appear, stuck out like a sore thumb.

You arrived there and waited. It got dark, and you still waited for something to happen.

“It said the passage can be opened, but not how to open it,” Bill pointed out.

You didn’t say anything. Truthfully, because he was right. And the fact that there could be something you should be doing right now, but instead, you were just standing there, was scary. You could be waiting until the very dawn and nothing would happen, and for your next chance, you’d have to wait for a full moon cycle, or come back to the goblins empty-handed.

“It’s… it’s still early, the sun has just set,” you attempted to stay positive, looking up at the dark sky and trying to find the moon.

It took some more waiting for you to start seriously worrying, Bill was pacing the area and smoking. But then you felt something.

Very strong magic in the air, it was like the whole ground was shaking, shaking your insides, while none of that physically happened. The moon shone through the opening in the leaves above, and once more, the rock below you started glowing.

This time the glow kept growing, it became unbearable, you had to close your eyes to protect them, and the magical force became so strong it was pushing you away from the circle.

This lasted for maybe two minutes, yet felt much longer. You saw through your eyelids that it was dark again, and nothing was pushing you away anymore. You were finally able to take a proper breath.

“You okay?” Bill asked, concerned, from somewhere behind you. “Yeah,” you answered and nodded, even though you could see nothing. You cast Lumos Maxima overhead and Bill finally joined you as you realised you stood a few meters away from the steps leading up to an old, wooden doorway. Doorway into the tower.

You looked at each other as if trying to find answers for what just happened. When you walked up the steps slowly and approached the doors, everything suddenly became eerily quiet. You could no longer hear the forest around you.

“What do you think?” you asked Bill quietly. “Just… just stay on your guard.”

You did so, but without seeing any other option, placed your hand on the door handle.

You knew immediately what happened, feeling it drive through your mind. It was enchanted, the entrance used Legilimency on you, but this was not your first time. You blocked your mind quickly, and the lock clicked soon. You pressed the handle and opened the door ever so slightly, just so it wouldn’t lock again.

“It was enchanted. The handle. Some security charm, it used Legilimency on me,” you explained, coming down from the shock. “Did you manage to block it?” Bill questioned, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Yes,” you replied as if it were obvious.

“Can you use Legilimency on objects?” he asked after a few seconds, remembering you were a natural Legilimens. “Think about it, Bill, you should have your answer. Though if something’s charmed to have sentience, maybe. Haven’t tried…”

You stepped inside, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for anything dangerous. Bill lit the lamps, and you were able to get a proper look at the spacious room.

It looked like a normal house. From the 1400s of course, but nonetheless. Not a hermit’s lair, not some kind of evil den, but a house someone lived in. It wasn’t even dusty, or cobwebbed. An illusion charm?

After searching the entire first floor you still didn’t come across a study, a lab, or anything alike. You were about to leave one of the rooms when you heard a familiar purr.

“He had a cat..?” Bill wondered, but your eyebrows furrowed. “A chimaera, rather,” you replied, making his face fall.

There was no other way out for you, anyway. Hoping your experience with chimaeras would prove enough for you to handle this one, somehow, you stepped back into the main hall.

The beast stood guard in the centre of the room, proudly, and didn’t show any signs of aggression just yet. It watched contently as you made your way along the walls towards the exit at first, but it didn’t like it when you got closer to the staircase upstairs.

Its purrs changed into growls and its hoofs kicked the ground angrily, giving you a clear signal to stop. The surroundings changed, the paint started to peel off the walls at first, everything began to age rapidly. The tower seemed to shake the stronger, the louder the beast roared, and threatened to fall apart.

There was no other solution now, but to fight it. Yet even for two certified, skilled wizards such as you and Bill, and adult chimaera was a dangerous challenge. Stunning spells were flying, you had to dodge attacks from the beast who could not decide whom to attack while thinking of a solution.

As you were getting tired, so was the beast, but that still didn’t mean your success was close. You saw your chance when it was about to pounce the ground in front of you. You got ready to cast the Conjunctivitis curse and raised your wand.

The chimaera hit the ground and you felt a sharp pain at the back of your neck, then everything went dark.

When you eventually came back to your senses, you felt incredibly tired. Your head was lying on something soft and warm. You could open your eyes, but you didn’t want to, you felt comfortable like that.

“Y/N..?” you heard a warm voice say as someone’s fingers delicately pushed some hair off your forehead. Bill’s voice, and Bill’s hand, you realised. And underneath your head, was Bill’s lap.

You opened your eyes slightly and saw his face, a bit shiny and dirty due to the dust that stuck to his sweat. He was relieved. You also noticed you were still inside the main hall of the tower.

“How do you feel?” You took a breath and wet your lips. “I could use a nap,” you admitted, making him smile.

You sat up with his help and felt the back of your head. It still hurt a bit, but probably not as much as it should’ve. You could feel a freshly healed wound there - Bill’s doing.

“Where is it?” you asked, impressed with how not only Bill remained intact after you’d collapsed, but also you were still alive. “I managed to push it back into one of the back rooms and close the door,” he answered, looking into space as if he couldn’t believe it himself.

You looked around all the rubble and remembered why you’d come here.

“Soo… all that for nothing, huh,” you said grimly. “Well, not quite,” Bill corrected you, “there’s still the attic.”

You carefully climbed the spiralled stairs, hoping for no more security beasts or charms. You took the door which stood out the most and hit the goldmine.

A room full of bookcases and worktables, measures, ingredients and lab glass. Little bottles everywhere, and above all, scrolls upon scrolls of parchment.

It felt weird to finally be done with it. You were almost sad to leave, as you hiked back down the mountain the next morning, but shook the feeling off instantly. You couldn’t know what the future held for you. What epic assignments were yet to come. One thing was certain.

“Soo…” Bill began, looking straight ahead. “…Still looking for a place to live..?”

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - April 25

Hope everyone had a good week. Here’s what I’ve been reading recently. Remember to comment/kudos if you enjoy! Remember too that I’ll be sharing reader recs on April 30th so feel free to drop an ask or send a DM on Twitter with your recent reads. 

**Indicates my recent favs 

~*~ 

***Charcoal dust in my eyes by betheflame, Nixie_DeAngel (Non-Powered AU/1OK) 

Dr. Tony Stark teaches engineering at Stonybrook University, so he assumed his son would attend there. Instead, Peter chooses nearby Fallwell State and gets assigned Art Professor Steve Rogers as an interdisciplinary advisor.

If that wasn't annoying enough, Rogers' best friend Bucky happens to be the guy who Tony and his best friend Pepper have a bit of a history with and NO ONE holds a grudge like Tony Stark.

But then... Pepper tells him to stand down and so does Peter and what if Bucky isn't the enemy... does that mean he can do something about this crush on Steve?

***This is not a drill by sabrecmc (A/B/O /23K)

 “Can I—can I see him? I mean meet him. Uh…welcome him to the team?” Tony clarified, probably not very well, he knew.

“Well…there’s a bit of an issue with that,” Fury said, and Tony figured this was where Fury got to whatever it was that had really forced his hand and made him call Tony in, knowing how much the man detested having to do so. “You see, well. He was suspended in the ice for nearly seventy years,” Fury began. Tony nodded along, because he could do math.

“I’m sure he has a lot of adjusting to do—“ Tony started.

“Seventy years,” Fury repeated, cutting Tony off and leaning back in his chair and making it rock slightly. “Of no suppressants.”

“Oh,” Tony managed to choke out past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Oh.”

Something to talk about by Mireille (A/B/O /29K)

 The art room next to the auto shop has been empty since Tony started teaching here. That's about to change.

take another piece of my heart now baby by blue_jack (Fake dating/27k)

 “I think we should get married,” Tony announced as he let himself into Steve’s apartment, plopping next to him on the couch.

down on the farm by tellxmebby (Non-powered AU/7k) 

Tony laughs, throwing an old rag at the blond man, who bats it away in the air. "Fuck you."

"Mm," Steve rolls back under the car with a newly fitted socket, "maybe later."

 Steve grins up at the chrome above him at the lack of response. It must take Tony a minute to recover, but when he does Steve hears him huff.

***breaker of horses by sineala (Gladiator AU/48K) 

What do you do when the Roman Empire you were raised to love consigns you to the sands of the arena? Antonius is a prince of the Dacians, captured in war and sold as a gladiator. He yearns for his freedom. Stephanos -- the last living centaur -- is his fellow slave and trainer. Centuries old, disillusioned by a Rome that has become a shadow of itself, Stephanos has all but given up on life... until he meets Antonius, and both of their lives are forever changed.

to liars and saving the world by magicasen (Ultimates/45k) 

When Tony's life is in danger, Steve does the only thing he can do to save his teammate: he makes an honest man out of him. Steve and Tony's sham marriage is only supposed to be a blip in their history that no one has to know about. But when they're outed to the press, and with ghosts from his past coming to haunt him, Steve must come to terms with the idea that his own feelings for Tony might not be a lie.

the single biggest problem with communication by BlossomsintheMist (Comics Fic/108k)

 In the wake of Steve's return from the dead and the end of Norman Osborn's reign of terror, the superhero community is recovering--Steve has taken on a new role and Tony is trying to put his life back together. Things are still awkward between them, but they're determined to put things to rights. But when a discussion about their feelings leads to further misunderstandings, they discover that might be more difficult than either of them realized. Set in the early Heroic Age after the end of Dark Reign, this is a get-together story about crossed wires--and second chances.

Written for the Cap-Iron Man Big Bang. The gorgeous art for this story, by phoenixmetaphor, can be found here, or here on tumblr!

All i want by sineala (Ultimates/2.5k) 

Steve's not used to anyone spoiling him. But he's willing to let Tony try.

Steven G. Rogers by Raikishi (MCU/3.3K) 

“Steven G. Rogers,” he reads.

Steve can almost hear the gears turning, shifting their focus.

In which Tony tries to figure out Steve's middle name

will we ever say the words we’re feeling by theappleppielifestyle (MCU/1.6K)

He breaks off then, the realization of what he’s just revealed finally hitting him, and he stops, and Tony’s still staring.

(Or, Steve and Tony argue and Steve lets something slip.)

Touch my heart and kiss my soul by laireshi (PWP/2k) 

Steve’s supposed to be damn good at strategy, but he’s not quite sure how they’re supposed to make it to a bed when Tony’s kissing him like this.

Hello, this is--wait, what? by shrill_fangirl_screaming (Wrong Number AU/1.8K)

Tony should really make sure he memorizes everyone's phone number properly. Steve should really stop picking up wrong numbers. They're a match made in heaven.

***1-900-Soulmate by SailorChibi (Soulmate AU/5.2K) 

Later, Tony would maintain that it wasn’t his fault. He was drunk and bored (lonely) and it just… happened.

Pepper would look at him and, in the driest tone that Tony had ever heard, remark that he was the only person in the history of the world who would stumble across their soulmate while drunk dialing a phone sex line.

[darksiderssin]

Keter Duty

This is gonna stay as a oneshot for now, I think. I want to make it longer and eventually make a more official looking entry like something off the SCP Wiki, but here we go. Tagging @imagine-darksiders because this was their idea. I promise there’s some semblance of a plot I’m cooking up for this, but it’ll be posted up on Ao3 if I write more.

“Enter the chamber, D-091337.”

You hated that voice on the P.A system- cold, clinical, uncaring. Just another Tuesday for these people, for you it could be your last day alive, like so many forced into the dens of the monsters they kept here, and it felt like you’d been marched to the gallows. You sighed- could be worse, you supposed. You could have been forced into the femur breaker, waiting for the unimaginable pain that heralded your impending death. You could have been put on 173 duty, having to rely on two other strangers in order to survive cleaning the mess that thing in there- you’d done it before and you never wanted to do that again. You took a breath to choke back the fear, only to have it knocked out of you as the butt of a rifle struck you between the shoulders, forcing you to stumble through the door as it slid open.

“If you turn around, you will be shot,” Says the gruff voice behind you. “Get in there, now.”

You wanted to give the man a nasty look as the door closed behind you, if you weren’t expecting your painful, bloody death. Your eyes were closed, still cringing from the developing bruise in your back as you hissed through your teeth, though you forced yourself to look up, deciding you wanted to at least see what was going to kill you, only to find four pairs of eyes from four different, humanlike individuals looking back at you- four very tall individuals, three of them male, and one female. One of the males, who was pale as a corpse and wore a skull-like mask, had a shaggy, mangy looking crow on his shoulder, that stared at you curiously with its beady little eyes, almost like it was judging whether or not you were a threat, much like the other individuals were doing as they watched you straighten up and press yourself against the door.

“A human?” One of the males piped up, this one wearing a silver helmet that only showed two amber eyes that looked you up and down, from your orange jumpsuit to the white sneakers to the dark circles under your eyes. He glanced to the others in the room, the fluorescent light glinting off the silver plated armour he wore. “Didn’t they say they were gonna send someone to talk to us?” Amazingly, their English was perfect, and the others responded in similarly perfect English.

It was the skull-masked male who spoke next, his wiry frame hunched in the way he sat, his eyes like smouldering embers. “No weapons,” He observed with a voice like a rattling sigh, a last word on a dying breath, and he glanced briefly to the panel of one-way glass before he spoke again. “What is your name, Human?” He almost sounded as if he was bored. You had taken a breath to reply, when the voice of one of the scientists gave you a warning over the P.A system.

“D-091337, you are not authorised to speak.” You froze, pressing yourself further against the door. “You are unauthorised to interact beyond the instructions we give you.”

The female, her dark lips pulled in a scowl, glared at the one-way glass with eyes like glowing moonstones. Despite the feeling of danger emanating off of her, she was beautiful, her olive skin smooth and unblemished, hair the colour of wine floating freely behind her. “They can talk when they decide to talk to us themselves,” She growled, the armour she wore clanking together as she shifted in her place leaning against the wall by the third male, a man built like a mountain who wore a red cloak around his shoulders- you couldn’t see his face past the massive pauldron on his shoulder. “I think we’ll decide who’s ‘worthy’. Now, answer my brother’s question.”

Well. The scientists wouldn’t like that. At first, it was hard to speak. You tried to say the first syllable, but your voice won't come because of your shock at what happened. Their eyes were all on you now. Eventually, you managed to croak it out, audible enough for them to hear. "(Y/N)...it's (Y/N)."

The skull-masked male nodded slowly. “Why have they sent you, Y/N?”

"I don't know." Your voice still croaked with nervousness and trembled as badly as your knees were. You'd seen other D-Class like you getting thrown to these monsters, and though you knew that some of them weren't bad, you knew that Keter classification sign outside the cell meant bad news. "Maybe to see if you'll turn my brain into mush, or eat me alive."

They all blink at you, then look at the one-way glass, then to each other, almost as if asking the same question. Finally, the helmeted male looked back at you, his voice sounding slightly disturbed at the suggestion. “Why would we do that?” He asked. “We said we weren’t here to kill any humans.”

"It's what these people do," You tell him. "They feed regular folks like us to monsters for their 'experiments'. Just to see what happens."

The skull-masked male hummed thoughtfully, pressing a hand to the one-way glass and pushing slightly to test how solid it was- you took some pleasure in imagining the scientists and soldiers shitting themselves at the sight. “Do they really think this is going to hold us?” He wasn’t really asking you, but you answered anyway.

"They say that you guys are Keter class. I think that means they think you're here to kill people." Usually the scientists said these things, and you swallowed a nervous lump in your throat as you mustered up the courage to ask, "...If you're not here to hurt humans, what are you here for?"

The female gave a derisive snort, the helmeted male choosing to answer instead. "We're just here for the monsters. Tall dark and sulky over there--" He jerked his chin in the direction of the other male with the skull mask. "He told us not to hurt anyone when we turned up to get the job done." The remark was met with a glance from the masked male, but not much else. Not much of a talker, you noted as you looked between them all, shuffling your feet awkwardly- they didn't seem like they were as much of a threat as the red sign outside the cell had made them out to be, if what they said was true. Maybe...

"D-091337. You are to leave the cell immediately. We're going to get someone to interview the subjects."

You jumped as the voice came over the P.A system, followed by the sound of heavy boots behind the door. You figured that meant they'd throw you back in your own cell and send in one of the scientists, but the skull-masked male stepped around you first and pushed you back with a large hand that paled against the bright orange of your jumpsuit as the door opened, causing the crow to squawk and flutter away, landing on your shoulder. The female dragged you further back by your arm, looking like she was ready to rip apart the guards as they levelled their rifles, but the skull-masked male was very calm.

"There's no need for those." He set his hand on the muzzle of one of the rifles and gently lowered it. "We've already made it clear that we're not here for you or your Foundation."

The guard shook his rifle away from under his hand, then raised it again. "Standard procedure," He remarked gruffly, then looked to you. "If you don't get over here now, we will shoot you."

The female didn't seem to like that, putting you behind her and reaching for something on her hip. The other two males looked ready to fight as well, slowly rising to their feet. "We'd prefer there be minimal conflict," The skull-masked male explained slowly, looking directly at the guard who had spoken. "We were in the middle of a conversation. It would be rude to shoot our guest."

"Not like you'd get a shot in anyway," The helmeted male added, and you swore you could sense a smirk behind the metal. "Fury's good with that whip, and your run of the mill bullets don't exactly work on us." That made the guards wary, a few of them looking between themselves as if reevaluating the situation. "Also," The helmeted male pulled a pistol, seemingly from out of nowhere, and held it up for the guards to see. "I'm a much better shot." You turned your eyes away from the door to look at the pistol, ornately engraved with beautiful spiralling patterns along the barrel.

Tension hangs heavy in the air, so thick you swear that the cliché of being able to cut it with a knife might actually be able to be proven if you tried. Eventually, one of the guard turns his head, one hand to his ear, and it takes a long moment before he motions to his fellows to stand down. “They’re sending in a researcher. The D-Class can stay.”

The helmeted male chuckled as the guards filed out and the door shut again, and he holstered the pistol. “Wise choice.” His eyes glance back at you. “You good?”

“Yeah.” You glanced at the door, then at the helmeted male. “Thanks.”

“What did they mean, ‘D-Class’?” Asked the skull-masked male as he turned to look at you, the crow fluttering off your shoulder and back onto his.

“It’s what they call us.” You shrugged and gave him a lopsided smile. “D-Class, D-Boys, the Disposables. Some of us are criminals, some are just folks down on their luck who were promised a hefty paycheck if they survive the month.”

“Criminals?” The helmeted male cocked his head. “What’d you do?”

You held up your hands defensively. “Nothing! I needed money!”

The tall individuals all look between each other again, their faces sharing an equal measure of concern, and you wish you could say you hated it. You’d never really known the things they kept here to care about humans, so why did they, when they were the dangerous ones? It almost seemed like an insult.

Eventually, it was the skull-masked male who spoke. “And all you have to do is...survive?” He asked, looking down at you with a gaze that made it seem that he was thinking about something.

“Well...yeah. I don’t think they’ll let me remember what I saw, though...” You sighed. “They...have ways of making people forget. And maybe that’s good. There’s nothing but nightmares down here.”

[weasleydream]

The wolf of my life

This is for @summer-writes​ 200 followers celebration! Once again, congratulations love!!! My prompts were “You don’t get to die today” and “You’re beautiful and I’m not the only one who thinks that.”

This is also my first Bill imagine and I’m sooo excited!!! I hope you’ll enjoy!

Masterlist

“Why do they have to hide in such an isolated place?” I muttered. “I thought these Death Eaters weren’t the sharpest tools of the box, couldn’t they find a five star hotel?”

“If you keep complaining like that they will hear us.” replied Bill. “I swear we’ll spend the night in the luxurious hotel of Luxor if you shut up.”

“Deal.”

Bill chuckled and I was pretty sure he had also rolled his eyes. It was a full moon night but the latter was hidden behind dark clouds, very practical when we were looking for potentially mortal enemies in the middle of the Valley of the Kings in the heart of Egypt. Surrounded by silencious animals, under the threat of an imminent attack we couldn’t anticipate, I was bitterly regretting having involved the both of us in such a suicidal mission. With each unknown sound around us, my grip on my wand tightened a bit more, and I subconsciously walked a bit closer to Bill. Hard to believe that there was a time Egypt was my home, and this same Valley was one of my favourite places in the world. 

“Did you hear that?”

Absolutely all my body hairs suddenly stood on end and I stopped breathing. I listened attentively, my blood freezing more and more with the seconds, and I was on the verge of sighing, thinking it was a false alarm, when an almost imperceptible noise arrived in my ears. I hadn’t even identified it as sand being removed that I had turned vividly and blocked a green flash of light. 

“Bill!”

Somewhere on my right, Bill was busy fighting two Death Eaters. Relieved to see he was doing well, I muttered a spell to send red sparks in the sky, a few friends of us patrolling in other parts of the Valley. I also had two people in front of me, but strangely, only one of them was fighting against me. The other was too far for me to see who he was. Before sending us here, Moody had told us they weren’t very smart, but they were certainly vicious as hell. They used all the weapons they could, without hesitating one second to blow sand in our eyes. Soon, the man in front of me became my only concern, and I didn’t even notice we weren’t six anymore, but about fifteen. 

I got read of the Death Eater after what felt like hours, and as it seemed, all the fights were over. My wand projecting enough light to see clearly around me, I frantically looked for Bill and finally spotted him helping Alexander, an old friend who had been the first one to volunteer to help us tonight. 

I was glad our mission was finally over, as it consisted of verifying the presence of Death Eaters in the Valley, but I couldn’t help but think something was wrong. A greatly appreciated wind pushed the clouds, and the moon illuminated the Valley. 

“Y/N!”

Before I could process I was in danger, someone grabbed me, and an excruciating pain exploded on my abdomen and my left shoulder. 

My sight became blurry, and the only things that helped me identify Bill when he leant over me were his touch I knew by heart and his voice.

“Y/N? Y/N? Love, do you hear me?”

My brain was cloudy as it felt like all my energy was getting drained, and it was like if another person was thinking in my own head when the thought came up that Bill was completely panicked. I felt his hands on my body, getting closer and closer and too close to my wounds. I heard my own screams as he was trying to stop the blood from flooding. And as my eyes were fixed on the sky, on the perfectly round moon that had betrayed us tonight, as the same word echoed in my mind - werewolf werewolf werewolf - everything around me disappeared. In my world, there was just me and my pain. And Bill’s voice echoed far from me, so low I didn’t really understand what he was saying, and if I hadn’t been so dizzy I would have known he was trying to reassure me and himself.

“Stay with me, love. It’s okay, you’ll be okay. You don’t get to die today, Y/N. You hear me? You’ll be okay.”

Third POV

Harry understood something was wrong as soon as he opened his eyes. Something had woken him up in the middle of the night, and after a few seconds, he understood it was Sirius’ mother’s portrait. It was screaming, its piercing voice crossing the floors, yet no one else seemed to have heard it as the screams didn’t stop. Ron moved in his bed and grumbled. 

“The hell is happening?”

As if they had heard him - and it wouldn’t have surprised Harry that much - Fred and George suddenly appeared in their room. A split second later, the door opened and Ginny and Hermione appeared. 

“What are you all doing here?” asked Harry, confused. 

“We wanted to ask you if you knew who came back, but it seems like you didn’t even know someone was gone.” replied Hermione. 

“The extendable ears-” began Ron. 

“Are useless.” finished George. “Plenty of spells have been cast. I wouldn’t be surprised if we couldn’t even go downstairs. Something grave is happening down there, if you want my opinion.”

“Did you even try?”

“Who do you think we are?” hissed Ginny. “Of course we tried! It’s a true anthill, everyone is running and Mum threatened to stupefy us if we don’t stay in our rooms.”

“I hope it’s not Bill or Y/N.” suddenly said Fred. “They are on a mission, somewhere in Egypt, right?”

“Yes.” confirmed George. “But there’s no way they’ve been surprised by anything. They are too skilled.”

“Yes, but this is Death Eaters in the other camp.” said darkly Hermione. 

And it appeared that their fears were founded. The next morning, the six of them got downstairs and the first thing they noticed was that no one seemed to have slept the previous night. They stumbled upon Mad-Eye Moody who grumbled louder than usual and Arthur who had dark circles under his eyes. None of them bothered to say anything when Fred and George harassed them with their questions. 

As the Weasley siblings were trying to get Arthur to spill the beans, Harry noticed the door of the living-room. It was slightly open. He glanced at Hermione, who shook her head vividly. 

“What if they don’t want us to know what’s happening yet?” she murmured. 

“Since when do we wait for people to tell us what’s happening?” replicated Harry. “Usually, we get the answers ourselves, no?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and followed him. 

The first person Harry saw was Mrs Weasley. She was giving him her back, whispering something into Tonks’ ear. When she heard Harry and Hermione approaching, she sighed. 

“I thought I told you to stay in your room?”

“Mrs Weasley, is it Bill or Y/N?”

And her eyes filled with tears. Harry stepped forward. 

Y/N was leaning on the couch, her skin paler than ever and sweaty. She was slightly moaning, and Harry could tell it was because of her pain just by looking at her face. Bill was kneeling next to her and slowly stroking her hair. 

“Are you sure we have to wait?” he asked Lupin, who was standing behind him. 

“Unfortunately, yes. You said the werewolf was transforming, there’s no way we can know if he was transformed enough for Y/N to become one.”

Bill slowly leaned over her and laid a kiss on her forehead. He was completely oblivious to Harry and Hermione’s presence, and he didn’t react either when his siblings entered the living-room. His face showed such a despair that it was quite painful to see. No one knew what to say, and Harry was sure that it wouldn’t change anything. Bill was totally terrified, holding onto Y/N’s hand like a lifeline and constantly murmuring in her ear. 

“Come with me. Hurry up, in the kitchen!” ordered quietly Mrs Weasley.

Throwing a last glance at the injured girl, Harry followed her in the kitchen and sat between Ron and Ginny. As soon as the door closed, everyone pressed Mrs Weasley on questions. 

“What happened?”

“It was a werewolf?”

“Will she be okay?”

“Yes, it was a werewolf,” answered Mrs Weasley, “and yes, she’ll be okay. The only thing we don’t know is- it’s if she’s gonna become a werewolf or not.”

“How is it possible?” frowned Hermione. 

“The werewolf who attacked her was transforming when he hurt her. No one knows what will happen, Remus says it’s a unique case.”

“That’s a chance the Wolfsbane potion exists.” muttered Fred. 

Mrs Weasley’s eyes darkened.

“That’s the point.” she said. “We have to wait before giving her such a potion. It can have nefast effects if she isn’t actually a werewolf.”

“Does that mean she’ll have to transform?” asked Ginny, horrified. 

Mrs Weasley nodded and left precipitately, Bill’s voice having echoed in the silent house. Harry, who had stayed silent since the moment they had entered the kitchen, was so lost in his thoughts that Hermione pronounced his name three times before obtaining a reaction. 

“Harry, you okay?”

“Mmm.”

In fact, he wasn’t that okay. He had first met Y/N the previous summer, during the Quidditch World Cup, and he had immediately found her really cool. She was a curse breaker, like Bill, and passionate about Quidditch, without mentioning that she was funny and really smart. Harry had seen how adored she was by everyone in the Weasley family, and he had completely understood the depth of Bill’s love for her a few weeks ago, just before the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. 

Harry was still wondering if it was really the Dursleys that were waiting for him when he opened the door in the back of the Great Hall. Much to his surprise, Mrs Weasley, Bill and Y/N were waiting for him. The three of them were smiling broadly and greeted him warmly. They had a really pleasant morning and Ron, Fred, George and Ginny joined them for lunch. Harry was stressed, and it felt like his stomach was forming big knots. 

“It’s so strange to come back here after five years!” exclaimed Y/N. “Everything seems identical, yet it looks different.”

“Look at him.” whispered Bill with a small smile. He was looking at Filch, and Y/N chuckled. “You remember the night he caught us coming back from the forbidden forest?”

“The one that ended with us being pursued by centaurs or the one Charlie found us fighting with two woodsticks?”

“What does that mean?” asked Mrs Weasley, probably horrified at the thought that they had gone in the forest more than once or that Charlie used to go there too (even though it wasn’t a big surprise, in Harry’s opinion). 

“You have your secrets, we have ours!” Bill winked at his mother. 

“You were already together back in Hogwarts?” asked Hermione. 

“Yes, since our fifth year.” said Y/N. “He asked me out between two classes, Charms and Potion if I remember correctly.” Bill nodded to confirm. “I said yes and we were both so excited during the Potion class that Snape excluded us.”

“And what did you do after that?” asked George with a big smile, which led Harry to think that he knew the answer. 

Both Bill and Y/N blushed furiously and Bill stuttered a few words among which Harry heard “alone” and “common room”. 

“And you've been together since?” Hermione asked dreamily. Probably imagining Ron asking her out, thought Harry. 

“Not exactly.” Bill, who hadn’t stopped grinning until then, looked down before grabbing Y/N’s hand.

“We broke up when Bill left for Egypt. At the time, I wanted to be a healer at St-Mungo’s and it had led to an argument. But I realized that it was not what I wanted, and a month later, I was packing my things and joining him.”

“Happiest day of my life.” added Bill. 

Harry smiled with everyone around the table. Bill and Y/N were really happy together, everyone could see that. And, all absorbed by their story he was, he had forgotten about the knots in his stomach and was eating his plate with envy.

  Y/N was a good person, and yet she was suffering because she was on a mission for the Order. The only thing Harry hoped was that she wouldn’t become a werewolf, because he had seen the effect of lycanthropy on Lupin and never in a million years would he want to see Y/N so sad.

“She doesn’t deserve that.” said Harry. 

Hermione nodded sadly.

Y/N’s POV

I woke up in the room I shared with Bill at Grimmauld Place. I felt like my body was burning and sent the sheets that covered me flying. The sudden movement caused my abdomen to ache and my shoulder to feel like it had exploded from pain, and my groan made a human form moving on the chair next to the bed. 

“Y/N, you’re up love?”

His voice was hoarse, as always when he was still sleepy. He opened an eye to see me struggling to sit and immediately helped me. 

“You shouldn’t force, love.” he recommended in a somewhat condescendant way that would irritate me soon if he kept using it. “The wounds could reopen themselves.”

“The wounds?” 

For a second, Bill seemed as confused as I was. Then it came back. I remembered cursing the moon and myself for having forgotten the mysterious enemy. I remembered my skin being torn and Bill’s hands hurting me while trying to save me. I remembered having been attacked by a werewolf. The shock of the realization was probably visible on my face, and even if it wasn’t, Bill knew me by heart. 

“Oh love, it will be okay.”

He wrapped me in one of these warm embraces he had the secret, careful not to hurt me more than I already was. The tears that escaped my eyes soon soaked his shirt. Bill was gently caressing my back and my hair, murmuring words of comfort in my ear and slowly rocking me back and forth, but nothing could have suppressed the thought that I was now a werewolf, that once a month I would turn into a monster, that the only way for me to not kill anyone would be to drink a potion. My sobs probably alarmed everyone in this bloody house and soon Molly barged in, followed by Remus Lupin. 

“How are you feeling, dear?” she asked sweetly while removing my bandages. 

I didn’t answer, focused on Bill’s face. When he saw my shoulder, he winced and looked away, and no matter how hard I tried to reason myself, I was fearing that he would leave me. 

“Y/N, are you okay?”

I mumbled a positive answer and decided to stay silent, in the very same way that Lupin. He was on the corner of the room, looking by the window and the fact that he didn’t bother to bring me any information was beginning to get on my nerves.

When Molly eventually finished changing my bandages, she didn’t say anything and left, followed by Bill who seemed particularly reluctant to let me alone. Lupin didn’t move for a few seconds, and he only sat on the chair when the door closed. 

“Come on,” he said with a gentle voice, “tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Am I really going to be a bloody monster?”

I realized one second too late who I was talking to, and if I hadn’t been so angry I would have probably apologized. However, he didn’t seem upset by what I had just said.

“We don’t know.”

“What? We don’t know? How can we not know?” I exclaimed.

“The werewolf was transforming when he bit you. The only way to know if you’re infected is to wait.”

“And what will happen if I transform?”

“Then you’ll have to learn how to prepare Wolfsbane potion. You won’t be able to take it next month though, it can-”

“Have dangerous effects on someone who’s not a werewolf, I know. I’ve had Outstanding at both my OWLs and my NEWTs in potion.”

We stayed silent for a few minutes, and I wondered where I would have to hide to be sure I wouldn’t attack anyone. 

“I don’t know yet where you’ll go, but Sirius will be there to make sure you won’t hurt anyone.” It was as if he had read my thoughts. “Don’t worry, he’s used to do that.” he added when I frowned before explaining how Sirius, along with James Potter and Peter Pettigrew (“The traitor?” I exclaimed in disbelief) had helped him during their Hogwarts years. 

After that, he patted my shoulder to show me he knew what I was feeling and left me alone with my thoughts and the disgust of myself that was slowly but surely installing in my mind.

Two weeks had passed since this night in Egypt. Two weeks during which I had isolated myself, the shame of what I possibly was preventing me from seeing that everyone wanted to support me. Molly and Bill were determined to crack my shell but all they could do was enhance the anger I kept bottled up. I didn’t even know who I was angry at, probably the werewolf responsible for this, but he was too far away from me to get my revenge. It was easier to snap at Molly when she tried to help me or Bill whan he wanted me to talk to him. It didn’t make anything better though, just added to the shame that was consuming me. 

To make matters worse, I had received the autorisation to get rid of these stupid bandages, and I was now facing the old mirror of my room. I only wore my underwear, and all the scars that covered my body were visible. The marks left by the claws on my abdomen started just underneath my chest and stopped after my belly button. The bite mark on my shoulder was surrounded by a purple bruise, and it was still quite painful, especially when I wanted to lift my arm. 

“What are you doing, love?”

Bill had opened the door and passed his head inside. In the mirror, I saw his expression turning from restraint to genuine worry and he closed quietly the door behind him before making his way to me. He stopped a few steps away from me, his eyes never leaving mine through the mirror. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

And for the first time, I didn’t even think of refusing and I realized I needed to talk to him. If there was one thing I missed more than the times I didn’t have to fear for my humanity, that was my relationship with Bill. I wanted to tell him so many things yet not a single word came from my mouth. Only a loud sob. Without hesitating, Bill wrapped his arms around my waist and tightened me against him. I didn’t feel like I deserved such a proof of love and stayed in the same position, only turning my head to rest my forehead against Bill’s one. 

“Shh, it will be okay, my love.” he whispered before kissing lightly on my shoulder. “Everything will be okay, I’ll be with you. Always, I promise.”

When my tears finally dried, I looked up again to see Bill smiling. His hands began to move from my waist, caressing my skin in the most tender way possible. 

“You know,” he began with a quiet voice, “you’re beautiful, and I’m not the only one who thinks that.”

“And who else thinks I’m beautiful?” I asked with a slight smirk.

“A lot of people. I’m quite sure Ron and Harry have drooled more than once thinking of you.” he laughed.

“I’ve never heard such a thing.” I whispered. 

“Because everyone knows better than claiming my girlfriend is gorgeous right in front of me.”

“That was before…” 

Bill’s eyes followed mine and fell on the scars on my stomach. He grabbed me shoulder and gently yet firmly forced me to face him. He put a hand under my chin and lifted my head to make sure I looked him in the eyes. 

“Listen to me, Y/N. You’re a beautiful person, inside and out, and these scars will never say the opposite. Okay? It only shows how strong you are, it claims that you’re a brave warrior who fought for her convictions. And, if my opinion matters, I think it’s sexy.”

I let out a watery chuckle, and Bill’s eyes shone with love. 

“Here, you’re so much prettier when you smile.”

But my smile didn’t last for long. 

“Bill, if I happen to be infected…” he knew what I would ask, I saw it in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for me to formulate it out loud. “If I’m a werewolf, will you still love me?”

“Of course I’ll still love you Y/N. They won’t separate us that easily, and you won’t get rid of me that easily either. You’re stuck with me, love.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I would love to say that my doubts and anger disappeared after this discussion, but it would be a lie. In fact, it was quite the contrary: the closer got the next full moon, the more I was on my nerves. Bill tried everything to help me relax, Lupin gave me a few advices, but I was so terrified that nothing helped me. The fact that I was more and more tired and sick and that everyone was worried wasn’t very helpful either. 

The day before the full moon, an argument exploded between Bill and Sirius. Bill wanted to be with me during the night and Sirius had refused, saying he couldn’t protect him if I transformed. I tried to tell Bill I wanted him to stay safe but he didn't listen. 

“I don’t care if I’m not safe! You’re more important!”

But he eventually gave up, and after a passionate kiss, I left with Sirius and Remus to go to an old house they had found. 

“You’ll be okay?” asked Remus. 

I nodded weakly and glanced at the window. The sun was almost down. 

“Remus, I need you to be honest. Do you think I’ll transform?”

His sad gaze told me what I wanted to know. To him, I was infected. He left without a word and locked himself in a room, leaving me alone with Sirius. 

“If you could be gentle on me, that would be awesome. My bones are rusty.” he winked before smiling sympathetically. “Listen Y/N, everything will be okay. I won’t let you hurt yourself, don’t worry. It will be over before you know it.”

The sky became completely dark, and an excruciating pain invaded my body.

  Once more, I woke up in my room of Grimmauld Place, but this time Bill was anxiously pacing in front of my bed. When he noticed I was awake, he literally threw himself on me and crushed me in a strong embrace. 

“Thank god you’re okay… Oh love, I’ve been so worried…”

I hugged him back, gladly melting into his touch and kissing his soft lips as if it was the last time.

“What happened?” I whispered a few minutes later, as we were cuddling in the bed. 

“Sirius says you were quite easy to control. You didn’t hurt yourself, he has just a few scratches - nothing bad, don’t worry - and you didn’t try to leave.”

“I don’t remember anything.” I murmured. “I would like to know what I do when I’m not myself.”

“For that, I can’t do anything, unfortunately.” said Bill while tightening me a bit more. “But I have a good new! Yesterday, I needed to keep my mind occupied, you know, as I was really fucking worried, and I studied the Wolfsbane potion. With a bit of training, I’ll be able to prepare it myself just for you! If that’s all I can do to help you, I’ll-”

“Don’t tell that.” I cut him before leaning in, stopping when my lips were a few centimeters away from him. “You help me so much, Bill. Without you, I would still be considering myself as a monster and… And if you want to help me, just keep loving me.”

“That won’t be a problem.” 

He smiled and pressed his lips on mine. 

[bookdancerfics]

untamed hearts, a 911 fic

Summary: Chimney’s problem with animals has never been a secret, so it’s no surprise when Buck gets between Chimney and the panther snarling in the corner. Then it gets the great idea of lunging, and suddenly Chimney isn’t worried about himself--he’s worried about Buck.

Relationships: Evan “Buck” Buckley & Howie “Chimney” Han

Warnings: animal attack, allusion to harm to animals (the animal is ok at the end)

also available on ao3 and ff.net, both under Bookdancer. the ao3 link is in the content source of this post.

Series: checking vital signs, part one, part two, part three (this fic), part four (yet to be posted) / six parts

Series Summary: 5 times Buck prioritizes his family’s wellbeing over his own, and the 1 time they help him prioritize himself.

--

It’s a weird call to begin with—the 911 dispatcher reports that the caller complained of chest pains, probably from a heart attack, but he also mentioned someone named Viola. The caller, a Mr. Ted Jackson, apparently passed out before the dispatcher could find out exactly who Viola was. The call takes them to the outskirts of LA, and they arrive at a decently sized house in the middle of an even larger storm.

The neighborhood is one of those ones where all the houses look alike, so the one thing that really distinguishes the caller is the large Jeep Wrangler parked out front. The rain is coming down hard now, and Chimney really only sees the Wrangler when he’s jogging past it, med kit in hand and Buck at his side. Hen, Eddie, and Bobby bring up the rear with the stretcher, which they’ll leave on the ground floor till they find Ted Jackson. Since they don’t know where exactly in the house he is, Hen and Eddie will take the second floor, Chimney and Buck the first, and Bobby the basement.

They separate as soon as they enter the house, all three groups peeling off from each other. Chimney and Buck make their way through the entryway, then take a left into the dining room, and are just about to enter the living room when the lights flicker and then go out. Chimney pauses and Buck bumps into his back.

He’d had his eyes on the light switch, so Chimney reaches for it, flicks it back and forth, and then shrugs at Buck’s outline when the room stays dark. He keys at his radio, twisting to talk into it.

“The storm took out the lights,” Chimney says. “Any chance someone’s near the circuit breakers?”

“Negative,” Bobby says after a moment. “But I’ll take a look down here. How’s your own search going?”

“Well,” Buck answers. “It’s going.” He’s gone from being a dark shape against other dark shapes to having actual features, and Chimney waits as he reaches for the flashlight attached to his hip.

The light illuminates the room, and Chimney just gets a glimpse of something big, black, and furry before Buck is in front of him.

“Buck,” he says, and he’ll forever deny that his voice cracks. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

“Uh,” Buck says, and his voice is so low that Chimney has to strain to hear him. “I don’t think you’ll like the answer. Just back away, slowly.”

Chimney does as Buck says, stepping back and suddenly wishing they’d had a reason to be wearing full turnout gear, even in the middle of the summer.

“Bobby,” Chimney says lowly, talking to the radio again. “Bobby you need to get everyone else out of here. And call animal control.”

“What?” Bobby asks. “Why animal control?”

Chimney peeks around Buck when they finally reach the doorway, then swallows harshly. The thing is definitely closer than it had been. Something on the far side of the room glints in Buck’s flashlight beam. Chimney can’t help but peer closer at it, wondering—and it is.

“Buck that’s our guy,” he says, the glasses he spotted still shining in the corner, but it’s not until the thing swings its head to stare at Chimney that he realizes he spoke at the regular, urgent volume he normally does when faced with a patient he hasn’t reached yet.

Buck freezes.

“Why do you need animal control?” Bobby asks again, and his voice somehow rings out even louder than Chimney’s.

Chimney would give anything to not know what it feels like to have a fully grown panther stare him down with its ears flat back, but here he is. Something curdles in his gut, and the very very very very small part of him not focused on the freaking panther—why does this guy have a panther in his living room?—recognizes it as terror. His legs won’t move anymore, no matter how much he tells them to.

The panther’s muscles ripple under its fur coat, and its tail lashes once.

It’s the only warning they get before it lunges.

Chimney crashes to the ground, Buck on top of him, and all the air whooshes from his lungs. He tries heaving in a breath but that just makes it worse, and he can do nothing but watch as Buck rolls in the opposite direction, taking the panther with him.

“Chimney?” Bobby asks, for the third time now, his voice urgent, and Chimney can hear footsteps clattering on the stairs. He’s not sure if they’re coming down or up; it may not really matter. “Buck? What’s happening?”

“Shit,” Chimney wheezes. Somehow he manages to climb to his feet, his grip tight on the doorway and his chest still heaving. His mind is racing. They don’t have a sedative strong enough to take out a cat as big as this one, let alone animal tranquilizers, but he can’t just leave Buck to the mercy of a freaking panther of all things. He can’t leave his future brother-in-law in this situation. And hell, who is he kidding. He can’t leave his brother.

Chimney turns and bolts out of the living room right as Bobby reaches it, and he yells what he hopes Bobby will make out as “Distract it!” as he runs for the house’s entryway.

One of the things about emergency stretchers, Chimney has learned through his years on the job, is that they can be heavy. The other thing is that they’re portable, easily moved.

It turns out they also make excellent ramming devices.

By the time animal control arrives, Chimney is already patching Buck up outside. Eddie and Hen are in the ambulance taking Ted Jackson to the hospital, Bobby is watching Buck with crossed arms and a frown, and the panther is safely locked inside the house, relatively unharmed. Chimney doesn’t even think he knocked her out, just deterred her enough to back off and let them retrieve Buck and the panther’s owner.

Buck himself is… mostly fine. Chimney frowns at the thought even as he finishes wrapping a bandage around yet another gash. The panther swiped at Buck, but she really only hit his forearms and biceps, Buck having managed to hold her at arms’ length the entire time.

“Those long arms finally good for something, huh, Buckaroo?” Chimney murmurs.

Buck gives him a weak smile. “This and basketball, I guess.”

“Yeah?” Chimney asks, even though he already knew that. “You and Albert should play sometime.”

“Mm, yeah, we have,” Buck says.

“Mm,” Chimney copies. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Buck says.

Finally they both stand, Buck’s wounds wrapped and set till they can get him to the hospital for care there. Bobby nods at them both, still frowning, but Buck avoids his gaze and Bobby turns toward the firetruck’s driver’s seat.

“Hey, Buck,” Chimney says, clapping a hand on Buck’s shoulder.

Buck glances at him. “Yeah?”

Chimney pauses, his grip tightening briefly as he sees the worried look on his friend’s face. There’s a lot of things he could say—“don’t ever do that again,” “you’re lucky you’re off blood thinners,” “Maddie’s going to kill me,” “Maddie’s going to kill you,” “boy I don’t envy that talk you’re gonna have with Bobby.” But there’s really only one that needs saying now. One he needs Buck to hear.

“Thanks.”

Buck’s face clears immediately, relief shining in his eyes and his shoulders relaxing even as he smiles. “I’m glad I was there.”

Chimney nods. He’s not sure if he entirely reciprocates the sentiment, not when it meant Buck putting himself in danger again, not when it meant Buck getting hurt again, but he is grateful Buck thought quickly. He’s even more thankful Buck lasted long enough for Chimney to respond in kind.

“C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go get you taken care of so you can get back out there.”

[kylo-hen]

The Milk Man

A/N Hello I wrote this while I was in a Sackler mood yesterday at like 4 am and its the first actual smut I’ve written so bare with me! There is quite a bit of build up because for some reason I love establishing characters. It’s also vaguely  plus sized!reader but not strictly! Anyways, hope you enjoy & my inbox is always open for requests/feedback.

Adam Sackler x Reader

Summary: You run into an intense man in the dairy section in the dairy isle one Saturday Morning, and by Saturday Night he’s in your bed.

Warnings: SMUT! Spanking, name calling, Oral (F receiving), hair pulling, longer build up, and oat milk.

    Living in New York has its odd challenges here and there. There aren’t dishwashers in unit, rent is the price of one’s soul, people were colder, and grocery shopping was a drag. This Saturday morning was supposed to be relaxing, no work, no designs, no awkward booty calls from dudes I met in the club a moth ago looking for some action. It was all looking up until I looked in my fridge and remembered the Wednesday ritual was pushed back because of a meeting.

     With a groan I resigned myself to the reality that I would have to do some chores before I could allow myself the relaxing pamper day I deserved. Once I was out of my apartment, down a couple blocks, and at the grocery store I was relieved to know that on a Saturday morning it was pretty empty. Only a couple people that really just ignored each other as they passed in the cereal isle or the small produce section.

     It was an overall normal trip until I made it to the dairy section. There in front of the large selection of milk stood, what I could only describe as, a smoldering giant hunched over a comedically small phone.

    Usually in this kind of situation I would let them be, but he just happened to be in front of the only brand of Oat Milk I actually like, so it seemed like I would have to wait it out. This dude, however, was not one to mind social cues. After what felt like five minutes of awkwardly waiting off to the side for this dude to get the message and move on from the last bit of the store I needed before I could get on with my day, I decided he wouldn’t move without a nudge.

     “Ehm,” I cleared my throat softly, hoping that would alert him to my presence, “Excuse me.” The man barely grunted, acknowledging I was there but continuing to frustratedly channel into whatever he was doing on his phone. “Excuse me?” I said louder, hoping to get a civil response.

    “What the fuck do you want?” He finally snapped at me, actually turning to look at me. That was also the first time I was able to see him fully. The man was hot, I’ll give him that much. His tall frame matched by solid muscle, a tasteful amount of facial hair that suited the intense features, and now a scowl. A scowl that was presently pointed in my direction while I ogled at him. “What the fuck do you want?” he demanded again; this time much harsher. I took a step back, not really expecting this full-bodied giant to be yelling at me on a Saturday morning in the grocery.

    “Fuck,” I muttered to myself trying to dip into some of my confidence I gained in the years living here and finding it much harder to let his anger flow off my skin as it usually does. “I’m- fuck- I just need some of the oat milk and you-“ I rambled on but stopped at the sound of a deep sigh from the man in front of me. “I’m sorry, I’ll just-“ I abruptly turned, figuring the milk wasn’t even worth it anymore. The experience spoiled any hopes for a peaceful day, and the faster I made it back to my apartment the faster I could wallow in the new mood crashing over me.

     “Wait, shit!” I heard from behind me before I felt two large hands brace my shoulders. One thing the man didn’t expect was for my self defense lessons to kick in the second he grabbed me. I swung my elbow into his stomach, well because of his height it ended up being more of an elbow to the man’s balls. As I turned and backed away from him, I noticed in his hands he had the milk I was looking at earlier. Shit fuck fucking shit fuck! He was trying to give me the fucking milk!

    “Oh my god, I’m so sorry fuck, shit!” I moved to help him stand up, his face beet red a twisted up as he processed the pain, I unintentionally put him in.

    “Fuuuck,” he groaned out while he took some deep breathes, “I, fuck you’re a good shot… I just wanted to give you the fuckin’ milk.” He muttered out, still mostly bent over. Guilt washed over me in waves. I just attacked the poor guy trying to give me milk, even if he yelled at me earlier. Fuck, I can’t believe I just did that. My body heated up in shame, burning from the inside out, hoping that I could just melt within my own skin. The day only getting worse by the minute, I prayed that I would get to my apartment in peace so I wouldn’t cause any more damage.

    “I’m so fucking sorry,” I said again, not being able to emphasize it enough, as he began to recover more and more, and stand taller but not his full height, “Thank you for the milk.” I said still feeling the dark pungent shame in my chest. As he stood up more and more, he handed me the milk.

    “Don’t-“ he breathed sharply, still regaining his footing after being in pain, “Don’t apologize kid.” He muttered the name out at me and I wondered how old he was suddenly, or how young I looked trembling in the middle of the grocery store. “I was a dick.” He breathed and straightened fully, towering over me.

    “No, no, “ I denied his apology, shocked that he wasn’t pissed anymore, “I shouldn’t just go around attacking people, you didn’t deserve that.” I took the milk that I realized he was trying to give me still.

    “Nah, don’t sweat it kid,” again with the fucking nickname, oddly enough it lit a fire in me somewhere I hadn’t felt in years. “I should’ve known better than to just grab a lady.” He smiled at me, chuckling at his own joke and I smiled with him. His moods sending me for a bit of a loop, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle myself.

    “I still feel bad,” I admitted to him, he tilted his head curiously, “could I get you a cup of coffee or something?” I offered, hoping that he wouldn’t be too offended by the offer. Something about this man was drawing me in, his effect leaving me wanting more and more. What the hell is going on with me today?

   “Oh, I don’t drink coffee.” He stated, rejecting me bluntly and with that statement. The shame bubbled hire a fire burning in my cheeks whether he can see it or not I was embarrassed. Another time I put myself out there, thinking I read a situation one way, and it going very differently. My eyes suddenly very interested at the floor rather than the attractive man before me. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, “Not, I don’t drink coffee but maybe we could get lunch or some shit?” he offered with a cocky smile.

    My eyes snapped up to meet his, a warm feeling that for once wasn’t shame flooded my veins, I smiled at him in return, “Yeah we can get lunch and shit.” I replied easily, proud of myself for regaining some of that confidence I usually held. But then I remembered where we were, and that I had a cart full of groceries I needed to get home, it seemed he was coming down in the same way. “Actually…” I trailed off, not knowing his name.

    “Adam.” He answered and shook the milk carton playfully in lou of my hand, “Adam Sackler.” His crooked teeth poking out through his smile making my heart pound faster in my chest.

    “Adam,” I hummed, testing out the way his name felt on my lips. It felt like they were always meant to say his name. “Since you don’t drink coffee, which seems sac religious to me,” I allowed myself to flirt with him, testing the water, “And I’ve got a shit ton of groceries to put away, what about dinner tonight?” I asked.

     He laughed, unabashedly checking me out, my chest tightened hoping he liked what he saw, “Fuck yeah, dinner sounds great.” He replied confidently, boosting my confidence.

    “Alright Sackler, it’s a date.”

    After exchanging numbers, into his comically outdated flip phone, we decided to meet at the grocery store before dinner. I rushed home to clean my apartment, a girl can be hopeful, and get ready for any outcome of the date. It had been months since any person had given me any romantic indication, dating apps had long since run dry and I was tired of having to explain my size to people before they met me. Rarely after meeting someone, in real life, had they shown as much interest that Adam has shown me in the last hour. That meant I was hopeful and hope was a dangerous game for a girl like me.

    By the time it came to meet up with Adam I was a nervous wreck. My brain kept trying to convince me of the worst-case scenarios as I made the walk to meet up with him. All of those thoughts seemed to fade to black when I saw him. He was dressed casually, as I was as well, in a pair of dark wash jeans and a white t-shirt. He smiled when he saw me approaching, he perked up from where he was leaning and met me halfway.

    “Sorry if I’m late, there was a man trying to save the turtles outside my apartment and I’ve already out run him twice so he’s out for blood.” I joked when he was finally close enough to me. He laughed at my ice breaker, and I thanked all the powers at play that he had a sense of humor, he was shaping up to be quite a catch as long as his mood stayed up.

   “Don’t sweat it kid, I got here early anyways. Fuckin’ in my bones at this point with acting and shit.” He grumbled the last bit as he flailed his arms about. An actor? I’d never actually been on a date with an actor before, I mean with there being globs of them in the city for Broadway and whatnot. I always assumed they were stuck up about looks, and if anyone could be Adam was definitely a hot enough actor to be picky.

    “You’re an actor?” I asked coyly, hopefully digging deeper into the mysterious moody man.     “Yeah, also do some other shit.” He answered vaguely which only drew me in deeper to the mystery of this man. Who the fuck is he? And why the fuck is he so hot? “I know this diner just a couple blocks that way, does that sound good?” He asked considerately, and in that moment, I swear I could marry him.

    “Fuck yeah, I know exactly what you’re talking about, Lou’s is a fucking gem.” He responded with a grin, wide and unabashed, that made my heart flutter. But even when I made my way that direction, he kept his gaze on me, not in a creepy way but in a refreshing way. He acted like if he didn’t take all of me in now, that I would disappear forever, or that I would have been a figment of his mind. When I looked back at him a moment of sadness crossed his features, maybe it wasn’t sadness, maybe it was fear. He looked so young for just a split second, and I saw him, I really saw him.

    So instead of saying anything I simply reached out and offered my hand, and he grabbed it. With that we began walking back in the direction of my apartment on the way to the diner, and throughout the walk we talked about meaningless things like the mean lady that lives in his building to his morning run routine. I kept it light, trying to stay away from sticky topics before we sat down, but I also wanted to actually know who I was going out with.

    Once we were seated, the games began. Adam and I ordered before we got into a grittier subject matter but instead of just asking, Adam wanted to make it more fun. So, like middle school girls at a sleepover, Adam suggested we play truth or dare.

    “Truth.” I stated with no hesitation, what could he even dare me to do right now? It’s not like anything juicy could happen while we were in public.

    “Oh, come on, you scared of what I could dare you to do?” He taunted at me, still flashing his signature crooked grin.

     “I’m giving you an opportunity to ask me whatever you want Sackler, use it wisely.” I goaded him testing his waters, watching his reaction to see if he was game. His eyes trailed down to my shirt. Bingo, he’s interested.

    “Alright Kid, when was the last time you got laid?” He went straight out of the gate with a sexual question. The longer I spend with him the more apparent it becomes that Sackler might be a little sexually deviant, that thought only escalated the fire burning in my belly.

    “It’s been about six months since I got laid,” I started, “But about a year since I actually, let’s say, enjoyed getting laid.” I clarified, feeding into the building sexual tension.

    “Hmm, that’s a crime,” he responded, trailing his eyes over every part of me visible across the booth, “They should be punished for leaving a woman like you unsatisfied.” He murmured, leaning forward tracing a finger along one of my hands placed on the table. Every light touch, even if it looked innocent, felt dirty and drenched in the want I had for this man.

    “Truth or dare Sackler?” I angled my torso to him so he could see down my shirt, I could see his reaction, his eyes start to glaze over, his mouth open, ready. I had never been with a man so openly affected by me and at every move I took the opportunity to tease him.

     “Fuck, Truth.” He said, not really paying attention to what he responded with but more paying attention to the parts of myself I was revealing to him.

    “What do you think of me Adam?” I asked softly, some could even say sensually, as I retracted my hand and my body, ripping away the points of contact that he was latching to physically and visually. He suddenly retreated his stance as well, looking me in the eyes to see a knowing smile already dancing across my features.  He groaned playfully, knowing he played right into my hands.

      “Fuck, kid, what do I think of you?” He asked redundantly, “For starters I think you’re the biggest fucking tease and if we weren’t in public right now, I’d put you over my knee and punish you.” He began, speaking in a low threatening tone. Every word, every syllable, every fucking letter sent a shockwave to my core, shaking my resolve and tumbling every other instinct down. I let a soft delicate whimper, only loud enough for him to hear, pass my lips as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back to take in what else he was saying. “You’re a tease, but you’re also fuckin’ gorgeous.” I snapped my head open, not expecting a real genuine compliment from the sexual haze we were in.

    “What?” it slipped out of my lips before I could really do anything about it.

    “Kid,” he began, by putting his hand on top of mine and staring so far into my soul I felt like I was naked in front of him, “You’re so fucking beautiful, like I- I saw you this morning and fuck I think you might actually be perfect and fuck! Like even if you’re not, you’re better than that.” He said and I couldn’t remember the last time I had ever felt like this, maybe never. He was so different, and intense, but funny, and God I want to sleep with this man, but I also want to cook dinner with him and see how he likes his eggs, or what his favorite book is, and who hurt him. I want him, and he wants me.

    “Thank you,” I began, getting a bit shyer under the smoldering chestnut eyes, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me gorgeous before, or if they have, I can’t remember.” I explained, trying to brush it off as a joke, but he doubled down.

    “They must be blind kid, or stupid.” He chuckled to himself, “Probably fuckin’ both.” He smiled, and I smiled back, bursting at the seams, but before I could respond our waitress came with our food.

    The spell we were under before we got food was somewhat broken when we were eating, returning to the more casual atmosphere, talking about our jobs and whatnot. He was really interested in knowing more about my job which made me feel almost as special as before the food came, but I kept it to surface details for now. Adam had a lot of weird habits from what I could tell, he cursed like a sailor, and he got super intense then switched back to normal out of nowhere. Yet, despite all the odd facts this man drew me in every time he opened his mouth, he had me on the edge of my seat constantly. Throughout the meal I couldn’t help but wonder, what’s going to happen next?

    When we both finished our meals the tension from before began to seep back into the conversation in doses. By the time the waitress returned with the check it was pretty clear Adam was ready to get out of there, and I wasn’t much farther behind. While Adam went to fish for his wallet, I threw enough cash out on the table to cover both meals, not wanting to linger for change. Adam looked like he was going to protest, but I just offered my hand out to him.

    “I asked you out,” I explained, leading him out of the restaurant and back on the sidewalk. “Its only polite I pay since I invited you out.” I turned to him and realized he was much closer to me than expected. He took a step closer to me and his long shaggy hair began to cover his face.

    “I guess I’ll just get it next them then kid.” He offered with a smile and I looked away, feeling an excitement bubble through me for more. “We never did finish our game.” He said not teasing anymore, I looked at him and pondered for a moment before answering his unspoken question.

     “Dare.” I said confidently this time, leaving him to smirk down at me in pride. He puffed up his chest and moved even closer. He leaned in like he was going to kiss me but just before he allowed our lips to finally meet, he stopped.

    “I dare you to kiss me.” His gruff tone sending my nerves haywire, a chill running down my spin at the command. His eyes darker than I had seen them, only balanced by the smirk on his lips daring me, goading me to follow through. The final straw was the sensation of his hands settling heavily on my waist, keeping me steady and sure as I surged forward and planted my lips on his.

    From there he wasted no time gaining access to my mouth and invading each of my senses one by one.

    Touch; the feeling of his tongue languidly pushing against mine, fighting a war for dominance and winning without hesitation. His hands finding themselves roaming over every point of my body, and mine deeply nestled in his hair.

    Sight; the possibilities of what comes next floating by in my head in vivid detail. The sheer number of ways this encounter could finish, all unbelievably tempting.  

     Sound; the deep velvet groan from his dulcet tones when I tugged on his chestnut locks, the whimper that snuck out of my mouth when his hands made home on my backside.

    Smell; the dark woodsy pine notes of his cologne mixed the sweet vanilla of my perfume creating an intoxicating scent.

    Taste; nothing I’ve had in my life could compare to the taste of Adam on my tongue, the feeling of wholeness only grew. My wanting grew with it, wondering if Adam tastes good now, what other perverse acts would taste even better.

     Eventually the heated kiss broke, and the depths of Adam’s eyes told me everything I needed to know in that moment. “My apartment is just a block that way.” I spoke breathlessly, pointing behind us in the direction the night would take place. He threw his head back with a groan, a sight that sent shockwaves of anticipation through my body and to my center. He nodded his head furiously.

    “Fuck yeah kid, lets go.” He spoke, pulling me along with my hand to head in the direction of my apartment. By the time we made outside my apartment and pulled out my keys Adam sprung into action, pulling my back to meet his front allowing me to feel the full effect I’ve had on him throughout the night. His errection dug itself into the curve of my behind and suddenly I realized just what I would be dealing with for the night. Adam Sackler is fucking hung.

    His kisses trailed up my neck, his hips grinding into my body and the noises he was making were borderline pornographic. The task of opening my door was lost as I allowed myself to lean back into the pleasure, he was giving me. His hand trailed down my arm slowly as he sucked on a particular spot behind my ear that made my knee buckle in bliss. His hand wrapped around mine, that was still holding the keys, and raised it to the door.

    “If you don’t unlock that door now, I’ll fuck you in the hallway.” He threatened, no doubt in my mind he would follow through with the threat. I quickly refocused on getting my key in the door and getting this man inside.

     As soon as the door was shut, he had me pressed against it, mouth pushing against my own once again, but now his hand travelled under my shirt kneading my breasts in his large sturdy hands. I reached, clawing at his shirt to come off as he unclasped my bra from the back, which only succeeded in turning me on. Once his shirt was removed, he made quick work of mine, stopping only to marvel at the sight of my topless body. He stared for just a moment too long, doubt flooded my veins and my throat tightened at another failed encounter where someone didn’t like what they saw.

     Just as I resigned myself to my own fate, reaching down for my shirt, Adam took both of my wrists and pinned them above my head. Once again pushing me against the door and pinning me from any other means of movement.

    “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded with a dark grit in his voice I had not heard before, his fire like anger only lighting the fire of hope in my belly once more.

    “I thought,” I started and as soon as I began to speak, he ground his erection into my core, effectively beginning my decent into madness. “Fuck, Adam that feels good!” I cried out rather than explain myself.

    “Come on little girl,” He teased breathlessly into my ear, obviously enjoying the act as much as I did, “Explain yourself to me.” He spit out all that came out of my mouth in return was a needy whimper and shuttered breath. It set my body on fire, turned my bones to jelly as he shifted to hold my weight for me.

    “I- fuck- I thought you didn’t like it.” I said softly, simply as the pleasure built with every thrust of his hips against mine. My back arched as he slowed to a stop, my eyes shooting open to see him looking down at me with furrowed brows.

    “You thought I didn’t like your pretty little tits huh?” he looked down at me, and I nodded softly, shyly up at him and his eyes softened slightly. He made the move to prop me up against the wall and move his body down. He kissed his way from my jaw down to my chest, finally settling with both his hands caressing my breasts. “You have,” He punctuated it with a small suck on my chest leaving a hickey a few centimeters above the nipple, “The most,” He took his sweet time worshiping every square inch of my chest, “Glorious tits I’ve ever fucking seen.” Finishing it off with an intense attachment to my nipple that sent earthshattering shockwaves throughout my body from the first real contacted pleasure Adam had given me all night.

    “Please, baby girl,” he murmured against my tits as he moved further down my body, “Let me eat your sweet little pussy.” He spoke, the dirty message matched only by the lewd and carnal tone he spoke with. Before he could anywhere with my pants, I took his hands and began leading them to my bedroom, which wasn’t too far away.

    He followed like a lost puppy trailing its owner, looking at me with wide and hungry eyes, taking in every movement my body made. As soon as I laid back in the bed, he made quick work of my pants, pulling them off with my underwear in one swoop. I let him handle me however he wanted and he moved with swift expertise that had my core drenched by the time he was done.

     With his hands stabilizing my hips, keeping them pinned to the bed, he sat between my legs admiring the sight laid out before him. He smirked at my disheveled appearance, trying desperately to hold on to my sanity and he hasn’t even laid his hands on me. Suddenly his tongue was on me, taking one long stride of my core before focusing on my clit.

    “Fuck yes!” I shuttered out when he brushed his tongue in a zig-zag on my clit before detaching with a sadistic chuckle. He explored every part of me, places no man had ever considered now have me careening towards the pit of bliss at lightning speeds. He took his time prodding at my hole while swiping his nose at my clit and in that moment, I swore no one was better at this than Adam fucking Sackler. My hands twirled themselves into his hair tugging harshly, making him pause for his own pleasure. Only then did I notice his gyrations on the mattress himself, which sent my mind into an overdrive of pride and arousal.

     “Your pussy tastes so sweet for me baby girl.” He hummed smugly into my pussy, the vibrations bringing me that much closer to the edge. He looked up at me, watching me fall apart as he brought his hand to my entrance working in a finger, beginning to stretch me out for him. “Your pussy’s tight, that for me?” He spoke, knowing I was way too close to orgasm for me to respond with anything but whimpers of his name mixed with any expletive that comes to mind.

    “Adam,” I called out, tightening my hands in his hair, trying to signal him for more. “Please!” I cried out, his pace slowing to a teasing momentum before he added another finger without warning. My head tilted back, losing all sense but the sense he was feeding me through his ministrations. I was teetering a dangerous ledge and with every thrust of his fingers he brought me to the edge. He took one last thrust of his fingers hitting the deepest part of me, paired with his tongue swiping my clit and the damn burst within me.

    Euphoria was flooding my system; I was floating in orgasmic bliss surrounded by nothing by the feeling of Adam bringing me through my haze and the smell of sex mixed with his cologne. After what felt like a lifetime of bliss, I felt him begin to kiss his way back up my body, taking special care of my stomach, sucking hickeys along the way.

    “You’re so good at that.” I murmured, still coming down from my high. He chuckled into my neck before coming up to my face and planting a big kiss on my lips. I immediately responded, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and bringing him flush to my own body. I could taste myself on his lips, his facial hair still coated in a layer of my cum, which only added to the kiss. “Adam, I need you to fuck me.” I said as I broke the kiss. His eyes lighting up again like in the living room, he moved away from me to finally take off his pants.

    “Condom?” He asked as he stood in his boxers, outlining his prominent erection pulsating in need. I only shook my head, moving to the edge of the bed where he stood to palm him over his boxers.

    “I’m on the pill.” I whispered seductively in his ear, he nearly doubled over in pleasure once the statement registered in his brain. He wasted no time taking my hips and twisting me around so I was on all fours before him. A deep feeling of butterflies reverberated in my stomach as I arched back into the hands he planted on my ass. He let himself groan at the sight of me before him once again, this time he had his hand moving over his thick cock.

    He rubbed the head of his dick over my pussy before catching it at my hole and pushing forward. The sting of him stretching me was not lost on him as he braced himself around me, caging me into his dick. He hissed as I clenched around him, trying to accommodate the difference. “Fuck your pussy’s so fucking tight you’re gonna squeeze me out.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, waiting for my signal to go ahead. His dirty comment only helped relax me, sending me spiraling in euphoria.

    “Adam, I need you to move.” I whined out, desperate for the friction he was made to bring me. He pushed farther and farther in until he was buried at the hilt. Both of us shuddered out, he filled me to the brim, his body made for mine in ways I had never felt before. Suddenly he pulled back and slammed back in with a deliberate force, landing perfectly on my G-spot. I cried out his name, the only thing I could remember at this point.

    “Yeah, yeah that’s it,” He praised my squeals of pleasure, “Say my name you fucking whore.” He spit out making my pussy clench around him in absolute pleasure. The way his hips slammed against mine, the way his hands groped at the cheeks of my ass, mixed with the things coming out of his mouth sent me into another dimension. “You like that you little slut? You like when I call you dirty little names?” He prompted me, adding a harsh slap to my ass to punctuate his thrusts.

    “Yes!” I cried out, burying my head into the sheets, letting Adam have his way with me exactly how he wanted. “Yes, I love being your little slut! Fuck!” He landed another spank, jolting me forwards on his cock. He retaliated by taking charge with my hips once more, grunting out insults mixed with praise.

    “Are you gonna cum? You gonna cum on my fucking cock you whore?” He stopped his thrusts, teasing me and my climax fading. “If you want to cum on my cock, fuck yourself on it.” He demanded, his hands kneading and soothing the damage he caused my backside already. I began rocking back on his dick, creating a similar rhythm to before. The harsh slaps echoed around the room and the lewd situation escalated my frenzy. “That’s its little slut, you’re fucking yourself so well.” He lost himself in the pleasure of it all, meeting my thrusts halfway.

    “Adam,” I moaned out, feeling the same euphoric anticipation building in my gut, I escalated the force trying to push myself to the place of bliss. “Adam, I’m going to cum!” I announced feeling the cliffs edge building and building. His hands trailing up my back and grabbing a fist full of my hair and pulling me flush against his chest, changing the angle so he was pushing deeper inside me.

    “Cum for me little slut.” He commanded, another hand wrapping around me to rub my clit in time with his thrusts. The bubble built higher and higher until I felt myself release for the second time that night. His thrusts continued, faltering as my body spasmed in absolute satisfaction, his grunts of pleasure travelling into my ear as he chases his own high.

    As his hips begin to falter their rhythm, he pushed into me for one last time before he let go and painted my insides with the ropes of his cum, marking me from the inside out. He wrapped his arms around me, collapsing us both on the bed, his cock still inside me, beginning to soften as he spoons me from behind. Our highs collectively lower and he is left trailing small kisses on the back of my neck and shoulder.

     “Where have you been all my life?” I joked once the atmosphere was returning to normal. He chuckled out, squeezing me into his chest even if I didn’t necessarily fit, and shifted his hips away from mine for the first time slipping out of me.

     He moved to look at me properly before saying, “Brooklyn.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought, my inbox is always open!

[arrantsnowdrop]

A Dangerous Game - Chapter 4 (Theseus Scamander x OC series)

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Summary: When Victoire McKinnon, one of the wizarding world's most proficient Curse-Breakers, is asked to assist and protect the Ministry of Magic's Auror Department in their crusade against Grindelwald, she finds herself stuck working with the extremely annoying, exceptionally good looking Theseus Scamander.

Warnings: swearing, violence, fighting, death, 2,823 words

..........

On Friday afternoon Victoire and Theseus had turned in their mission proposal to Travers and the rest of the Head Aurors. They had said it would take the weekend to review the plan and get back to them on Monday. To say Victoire was anxious about it was an understatement.

The plan was to, under Victoire’s leadership, return to the house on Chester Street, cast Homenum Revelio, and see if the presences of the three missing Aurors were still in the house. If they were, both her and Theseus would use the Summoning Charm to bring them back from nonbeing.

Victoire had included countless pages of research to show the credibility of their proposition. Theseus had spent all of Friday reassuring her that their plan would undoubtedly receive approval, but Victoire wasn’t so sure. It was definitely risky, and save for one case in 1763, there was no proof of such a plan actually working.

Victoire had tried to put all her stress in the back of her mind for the time being. It was Saturday afternoon, and in a few minutes she would be apparating to her parent’s home for the weekly McKinnon family dinner.

It had been many years since Victoire and her siblings had moved out of the house, but they all still looked forward to seeing each other face-to-face once a week.

Victoire looked in the mirror one more time, tousling her hair to give it more volume. She was wearing a dark grey shirt with chestnut colored trousers, something she hoped looked sophisticated enough to please her brother’s posh French girlfriend.

Thomas, who was a professional Quidditch player now, had been dating this girl named Juliette for a few weeks. She’d been to the last few family dinners and each time she’d criticized something about Victoire’s outfit. Naturally, Victoire was pissed and had finally decided to show up in something other than loungewear to put a stop to Juliette’s derogatory comments.

She walked out of her bathroom, slipping on a pair of black flats before calling Short-Snout from the kitchen. The light brown owl swooped in, perching on her shoulder before she grabbed her wand, slipping it in her back pocket, and apparated away.

Augustine Manor had been the McKinnon family home since it was built in the 1500s. Augustus McKinnon had built the rather impressive house on Dalkey Island, which was bewitched heavily to ensure muggles left the island alone.

Victoire landed in the middle of the living room, immediately taking in the smell of freshly baked bread and herbs wafting in from the kitchen. Short-Snout quickly flew off, probably in search of something to eat.

“Glad you finally showed up,” came a deep voice from behind her. She turned around, grinning at the sight of her eldest brother, Emrys.

“Sod off,” she joshed, walking over to hug him tightly. “I’m right on time.”

“I’m a little offended you’ve been working at the Ministry for a week now and still haven’t found time to visit me,” he chided. Victoire rolled her eyes.

“Seeing you once a week is more than enough,” she said sarcastically, “and I do believe the Department of Mysteries has too much security for me to break into.” Emrys chuckled.

“I’m sure if anyone could find a way in, it would be you,” he replied. Victoire laughed, pulling away and squinting at the navy suit her brother was wearing.

“You’re looking quite formal,” she noted.

“As are you,” Emrys shot back, gesturing to her outfit.

“I’m just trying to make sure Juliette doesn’t make a snarky comment about how casual my outfit looks,” Victoire said honestly, throwing her hands up in defense.

“Well then, you’ve managed to sum up my reasoning for dressing up tonight, as well,” he replied. Victoire grinned.

“And maybe mum will be so distracted by how good we look, she won’t talk about how Thomas is the only one of us in a real relationship,” Emrys added, walking past her and heading into the kitchen.

Victoire laughed and followed him, grinning at the sight of her aunt Maeve swatting her father with a newspaper.

“What did dad do, now?” Victoire asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Victoire!” her aunt exclaimed, throwing the newspaper down on the island and rushing over to give her a hug.

“Hi, Aunt Maeve,” Victoire said, wrapping her arms around the older woman.

“Oh, you look so lovely,” Maeve gushed, pulling away and looking over her shoulder. “Adelis, look how lovely Victoire looks.”

Victoire’s mother looked up from the pot on the stove, a warm smile on her face.

“She does look quite beautiful, though I’m sure that’s a result of Juliette’s comments last week rather than her own accord,” she said with a wink. Victoire grinned and nodded, while Maeve rolled her eyes at the mention of Thomas’s girlfriend.

“I swear, if Thomas doesn’t break up with that entitled woman soon I’m going to go insane,” Maeve muttered under her breath. Victoire and Emrys stifled laughs while their mother hushed her sister-in-law.

“Maeve, they could apparate into this house any moment now, do keep your opinions to yourself,” Adelis scolded, turning back to the stew she was stirring.

“Oh, we know they’re gonna be fashionably late,” Emrys said sarcastically. “Might as well make fun of them before they’re here.”

Victoire laughed and walked over to the island, sitting down across from her father.

“And how are you doing, dad?” she asked, watching as he dramatically rubbed his forearm.

“Other than your aunt beating me up just now, I’m doing just fine,” he grinned.

“Kean, if you quit insulting me all the damn time I wouldn’t have a reason to beat you up,” Maeve replied, pouring herself a glass of wine. “All the newspaper onslaughts you endure you’ve brought upon yourself.”

Victoire laughed as she watched her father and aunt bicker relentlessly, her brother throwing on an apron over his suit to help their mum cook. For the first time in a week, she was completely distracted from the stresses of her job.

~~~~~

On Monday morning, Victoire walked into Theseus’s office five minutes late, two coffees in hand.

“Hey, I’m-”

“You’re late,” Theseus said coldly, cutting her off. Victoire frowned at him as she closed the door, a little startled by his tone.

“I, uh, got you coffee,” she mumbled, holding up the coffee cups she was carrying awkwardly. She could’ve sworn she saw his eyes soften a little before his expression hardened once more.

“Travers approved our proposal,” he said bluntly, gesturing to the manila folder on her desk.

“Oh,” she said, setting both coffee cups down. “That’s good, right?” she added, looking up at Theseus with a small smile. His gaze was fixed on a piece of parchment lying on his desk.

“Obviously,” he said. Victoire looked at him in confusion.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly. He nodded curtly, though she was unconvinced.

“They made a few changes to the plan, but the bulk of it is the exact same,” Theseus added.

Victoire flipped the folder open and began reading over the file, brows furrowing as she saw that Theseus would be leading the team of Aurors, not her.

“I thought we agreed it would be best for me to lead the rescue team,” Victoire said, looking up at him.

“Travers thinks otherwise,” Theseus said dryly, eyes fixed on the paper in front of him.

“You said it would be safer if-” Victoire started, but Theseus cut her off once again.

“Do you really want to go argue with Travers?” Theseus asked cooly, looking up at her. Victoire bit her lip nervously at the stern expression on his face.

“No,” she muttered, “but-”

“Come on, McKinnon, did you really think they were just going to let a Curse-Breaker lead a Ministry mission?” Theseus asked sarcastically.

His words stung, and Victoire felt her eyes tear up at his rather mean comment. She cursed herself internally for being so damn emotional and focused her gaze down at the folder, refusing to let Theseus see how he was affecting her.

She read over the file quickly, noting that Theseus’s leadership over the mission was the only thing Travers changed. She smiled slightly at that, proud her research had done its job.

“Should I go summon the rescue team, or are you still reading?” Theseus asked. Victoire flinched a little at his cold tone.

“No, I’m done,” she murmured, flipping the folder closed. Theseus nodded and walked out the door quickly.

Victoire exhaled shakily, a little shocked by his sudden hostility towards her. A week ago, she would’ve been less surprised by this behavior; she’d been on her guard around him in the beginning, not wanting to reveal anything about herself that he could make fun of. By Friday, however, they’d been joking around with each other and exchanging stories about themselves.

She felt stupid for opening up to him, for talking to him about Gringotts, about her family. She’d even written to her friend Anthea about how their contentious relationship had eased into something more friendly. Clearly, she’d been mistaken.

“Miss McKinnon?” came a small voice. Victoire looked up at a young man standing in the doorway.

“Yes?” she asked, standing up from her seat.

“Mister Scamander says we’re ready to leave,” he said nervously. “Just waiting on you, uh, whenever you’re ready, of course.”

She forced a smile and nodded, closing the folder on her desk and picking it up.

“Thank you very much, you can tell him I’ll be right there,” she replied.

She sighed as the Auror left the room. If Theseus wanted to be an asshole, so be it. She wouldn’t let his attitude distract her from the three lives that hung in the balance.

~~~~~

By the time they’d reviewed the game plan and apparated to the street outside 16 Chester Street, it was around two in the afternoon. It was overcast and rather windy, precursors to the rather large thunderstorm set to reach London that night.

Victoire could not help but feel like something was off. The seemingly empty street did not feel so empty, and she could not help but wonder if someone was watching them.

“I feel like we aren’t alone,” she muttered to Theseus, who was standing next to her. He rather obviously rolled his eyes.

“You and your spectacular Curse-Breaker intuition,” Theseus said sarcastically. He’d been bullying her relentlessly all day, and Victoire was honestly starting to feel rather dejected. She had no idea what she’d done to warrant this behavior from him, but she was also too afraid to ask.

“Should we just abandon the mission then? On account of your paranoia,” Theseus added. She shook her head, knowing her voice would come out shaky if she tried to speak. The last thing she wanted was to appear vulnerable.

“Let’s head in!” Theseus called, waving to the four Aurors standing behind them. Victoire quickly followed him up the walkway, not wanting to be the last one in the house.

When they reached the living room, Theseus began to order the rest of the team around, positioning them so one Aurors was standing in the doorway and the rest were lined up by the wall. Those three were tasked with apparating the missing Aurors back to the Ministry after they were un-vanished, practically speaking.

Theseus gestured to Victoire and leaned back against the wall.

“Go for it, Curse-Breaker.”

She gulped and nodded, grabbing her wand from her pocket and pointing it at the spot on the floor where the cursed vase had been,

“Homenum Revelio,” she spoke clearly, grinning as the translucent silhouettes of three people appeared on the floor.

She jumped as thunder boomed around them, heart pounding in her chest. Something was definitely wrong, the storm wasn’t supposed to be here for hours and the thunder sounded like it was right overhead.

“The Curse-Breaker’s afraid of thunder,” one of the Aurors mocked, but Theseus held up his finger to silence them. It seemed he too was concerned by the anomalous weather.

He slowly reached for his wand, looking at Victoire and nodding for her to keep going.

“Accio Pembroke Mallow,” Victoire said shakily, casting a Summoning Charm in the direction of the three silhouettes. She gasped as a man with dark colored hair appeared out of thin air, stumbling forward and falling to the ground.

Theseus gestured to the first Aurors, who quickly stepped forward and apparated away.

Suddenly, a loud boom echoed throughout the house. Victoire spun around, watching as the front door of the house flew through the hallway, crashing into the stairwell and breaking in two. The Auror at the doorway drew his wand, but it was too late.

“Avada Kedavra,” came a gravely voice, and in a flash of green light, the Auror had crumpled to the ground in a heap, dead.

With a flick of his wand, Theseus launched a chair across the room and into a tall man in a black trench coat. The man fell to the ground with a shout, several other similarly dressed people rushing into the room from behind him.

“Keep going!” Theseus shouted to Victoire, rushing forward with the other two Aurors to deflect the intruders’ spells.

“Accio Roger Grouse!” Victoire shouted, rushing to duck behind an already toppled desk as one of the attackers began to launch Killing Curses in her direction.

As a blonde bearded man appeared in the middle of the room, one of the Aurors rushed forward and grabbed him, quickly vanishing from sight.

Victoire looked over the desk warily, watching Theseus and the other remaining Auror hurl curses at their assailants. Spells of every color were whizzing through the air in both directions.

“Accio Louis Sullivan!” Victoire cried, jabbing her wand towards the middle of the room once more.

The remaining Auror launched himself backwards, grabbing onto the final man as he stumbled into existence and apparating away.

“Alarte Ascendare,” Victoire muttered, launching one of the attackers up into the ceiling, grinning as he fell face first onto the ground.

She jumped out from behind the desk, stunning two wizards who had begun to rush towards Theseus. He’d jumped behind another toppled piece of furniture, casting spells over the top of it while trying not to get himself killed.

“Descendo,” Victoire shouted, pointing her wand at the chandelier in the hallway and watching as it fell onto two wizards.

“Victoire!” Theseus called, using his wand to pull her towards him as a flash of green whizzed past her head.

Victoire ducked behind the couch Theseus had been using as cover. She poked her head out cautiously, launching a Stunning Spell at a wizard hiding behind the door frame. He fell to the ground with a loud thud, but his place was quickly filled by someone equally as intimidating, and equally as determined to kill them.

“How many of them are there?” Victoire asked.

“Too many,” Theseus replied through gritted teeth, jabbing his wand in the direction of the doorway. Victoire winced as she heard a loud explosion.

“We have to apparatus back to the Ministry, they won’t be able to follow us,” she shouted, grabbing a chipped mug from behind her and hurled it over the top of the couch. It collided with the head of a dark haired woman, who slumped backwards against the wall.

“We can’t just let these people go,” Theseus retorted, repeatedly jabbing his wand in the same direction until she heard a satisfying thud.

“They’re going to kill us if we don’t leave, Theseus,” she exclaimed. Theseus looked at her with wide eyes.

“Everte Statum!” she yelled, throwing one of their attackers backwards into the staircase. “Why in the name of Merlin are you staring at me like that?” she shouted, hitting him on the shoulder.

“That’s the first time you’ve said my first name,” he muttered, mirroring your last attack and sending a hooded wizard flying backwards.

“Oh, fuck you,” Victoire seethed. “You don’t get to treat me like shit all day and then get sappy when I say your fucking name.”

She jumped up, stepping out from behind the couch and hurling Stunning Spells at the remaining wizards.

“Kill the girl!” someone bellowed. “We need to kill the girl!”

“Fucking try!” Victoire shouted back, dodging a Killing Curse as she lunged towards the entrance of the room.

“Flipendo Tria,” she muttered, sending three wizards spiraling through the air.

“Stupefy, Stupefy, Stupefy,” she chanted, watching as each one fell to the ground. She whipped around, easily deflecting the spells of the last attacker.

“Who the fuck are you?” he hissed. “Incendio!”

“Protego!” Victoire shouted, the bright orange spell fizzling into nothing against her invisible shield.

“Stupefy,” Theseus muttered from behind her, the man toppling backwards as he lost consciousness.

Victoire turned to Theseus, panting heavily as he scanned the room for any more intruders.

“I think we got them all,” he muttered.

“I fucking told you,” Victoire seethed, glaring at him. “I told you we were being watched, and you fucking ignored me.”

“I’m sorry-”

“You don’t get to fucking apologize!” Victoire shouted. “My whole job relies on me having solid intuition and you didn’t even listen when I said something was wrong!”

“I didn’t think we had any reason to worry!” Theseus shouted back.

“Clearly we fucking did,” Victoire yelled, gesturing wildly at the unconscious bodies around them.

“I’m-”

“I know you think I’m an idiot, but your stupid grudge against Curse-Breakers almost got us killed,” Victoire said, laughing incredulously. “I almost just died because the idiot I got assigned to work with doesn’t want to listen to me.”

“I don’t have a grudge against Curse-Breakers!” Theseus shouted in defense.

“Oh, so it’s a grudge against just me, then?” Victoire asked. “Fantastic.”

“No!” Theseus shouted, rubbing his temples in frustration.

“Well then what the fuck is it, Theseus?” she questioned, saying his name with just as much malice as she could muster.

“It was Travers,” he muttered. Victoire tilted her head in confusion.

“Elaborate, please.”

“He’s the one with the aversion to Curse-Breakers, you know that,” he said. “He told me I had to stop being so cordial with you.” Victoire laughed again.

“You seriously let Torquil Travers tell you how to behave?” she asked incredulously.

“He’s my boss!” Theseus shouted.

“Ok, and?” Victoire asked. “My boss is a fucking Goblin, if I let him dictate my manners I’d become a hoarder.” Theseus sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Oh, shut up. You made me feel like shit, all day,” Victoire scoffed.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said softly, watching with concern as she accidentally knocked her shoulder against the wall behind her, wincing in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked, walking towards her.

“I’m fine,” Victoire muttered.

“You sure?” he asked. She paused, looking down at her shoulder and sighing softly. She shook her head.

“No, no I’m not fine,” she admitted. “I think someone hit me when they first entered the room.”

Theseus nodded, continuing to walk towards her until he was standing right in front of her, effectively trapping her between himself and the wall. Victoire bit her lip, captivated by  the delicate intimacy of the moment. Theseus brought his hand to the sleeve of her shirt and looked at her gently.

“May I?” he murmured. Victoire nodded quickly. He tugged her sleeve down, revealing a dark purple bruise covering her shoulder. Victoire hissed as he grazed the injury with his thumb.

“That hurts,” she whined.

“Sorry,” Theseus said softly, his gaze fixed on her shoulder. He gripped his wand with his spare hand and brought it up to the bruise, muttering ‘Episkey’ under his breath. Victoire watched as the bruise steadily faded, the skin on her shoulder returning to its typical tan color.

“Uh, thanks,” she muttered breathlessly, looking up into Theseus’s grey blue eyes. He looked down at her and bit his lip, eyes flickering down to her mouth momentarily before coughing and pulling away abruptly.

“We should be getting back to the Ministry,” he said, face flushing pink.

Victoire nodded slowly, pushing herself off the wall.

“What about all these people?” she asked, pointing to one of the unconscious wizards on the ground.

“Travers will send someone back to bring them all to Azkaban,” he replied, reaching his hand out to her. Victoire looked at his hand, then back up at him.

“For apparating,” he clarified, sensing her confusion. Now it was Victoire’s turn to blush.

“Oh,” she said, “yes, of course.” She grabbed his hand loosely, praying he wouldn’t notice how clammy her palms were as they apparated back to the Ministry.

[Tags: @littleyellowladybugg @missjockey101 @hearteyesmotherclucker @mrshazosterfield ]

A/N: I took several creative liberties with how spells work, so don't accept all this stuff as canon in the HP universe. Who knows if this is actually how someone would go about un-vanishing another person. This is now the THIRD Theseus Thursday (that's three "th"s, #alliteration). Hope y'all enjoy, remember to leave a like or comment or something, and ask me if you wanna be tagged in future parts. :D

[emmerrr]

Andreil and accidental snow angels for the winter fic prompt. :)

anonymous asked: Andreil winter prompt: snowed in and no power, what better way to spend the time than truth telling and snuggling?

i merged these two i hope that’s okay and also i’m sorry they took so long ahhhh! (this is also on ao3!)

-

not looking for redemption nor some shallow kind of bliss

The snow had fallen thick and fast all through the night, and Neil opened the curtains in the morning to see a winter wonderland outside. No run today, then.

Andrew, wrapped in the duvet, stepped up beside Neil to take in the view. He made a small sound of disgust and then shuffled back to bed. Andrew and cold weather didn’t mix.

Andrew and hot weather didn’t mix, for that matter. 

Neil smiled at the lump in the middle of the bed that was Andrew, blond hair peeking out the top.

“Coffee?”

“There isn’t any,” the lump replied, muffled.

“What do you mean there isn’t any.”

Andrew sat up and pinned Neil with a glare. “I mean that we finished it last night and there’s no more, because someone didn’t pick any up when he was at the store yesterday. Not mentioning any names, but you, Neil. It was you.”

Neil rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine, my bad. I’ll just go and get some then, no big deal.”

Andrew pointed out the window. “In this?”

“A bit of snow never hurt anybody.”

“Have you ever fucking heard of an avalanche.”

Neil paused; he’d forgotten about avalanches. “…Good point. But we’re not exactly in avalanche territory.”

Andrew considered this. “Well, it’s dangerous to drive in the snow.”

Neil shrugged, deciding to ignore the hypocrisy of Andrew calling out dangerous driving. “So I’ll walk.” Even if he did drive, he’d have to dig the car out first and then clear the driveway, which would take ages. Not to mention that they didn’t have a snow shovel so it was a bit of a moot point anyway.

He started getting dressed, pulling on a long sleeved t-shirt and then the biggest hoodie he could find. Andrew let out a monumental sigh and dragged himself to his feet, following Neil’s lead and dressing warmly.

He was very clearly coming, so Neil didn’t waste time telling him he didn’t have to; Andrew already knew that but had made his mind up. Pointing out the obvious was pointless, and besides, Neil appreciated the company.

At the front door, they pulled on weather-proof boots and hats and scarves and gloves, then wrapped themselves up in big coats. Feeling somewhat top-heavy, they ventured outside.

The cold was biting, their noses and cheeks quickly turning pink as they made their way through the snow, but once they were out of their own quiet street, the short journey became a little easier, as the busier roads had obviously been visited by a snow plough.

It wasn’t far to the convenience store anyway, and while Neil was getting the coffee, Andrew headed next door to the Starbucks to get them to-go cups for the walk back.

They met back up outside, and Andrew handed Neil his cup and then pulled Neil’s hat down so that it was covering the tops of his ears.

Neil smiled.

“What,” Andrew deadpanned.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to, junkie. I told you not to look at me like that.”

“Yeah, but you’re not the boss of me,” Neil said, unconcerned.

“Being the boss of you sounds exhausting,” Andrew said, then took Neil’s hand as they set off for home.

Neil swung their hands between them as they walked. “Is this for warmth?” he asked. “For safety?”

“It’s just because. You want me to let go?”

Neil squeezed Andrew’s hand. “No.”

Andrew almost looked smug. “Didn’t think so.”

Neil laughed as they turned the corner into their driveway. “Hey, you held my hand—”

The rest of his sentence evaporated as Andrew slipped on some snow and over-corrected by leaning back, resulting in him landing flat on his back. As they were still holding hands, Neil went down too in a tangle of limbs.

“Fuck,” he said, sitting up slowly and shaking snow out of his hair. He turned to Andrew. “You okay?”

Andrew still hadn’t moved, but he didn’t look hurt. “I’m fine,” he said, completely expressionless.

Neil struggled to his feet and reached a hand down to help Andrew up.

Andrew shook his head. “I live here now.”

Eyes closed, lying in the snow, Andrew started moving his arms and legs. He was making a snow angel. Neil wondered if this was a conscious decision on Andrew’s part, or if it was just ingrained in every person; if you find yourself lying in the snow, you make a snow angel.

Neil lay back down beside him, and made a snow angel of his own. When he looked over at Andrew, Andrew was already looking at him.

“What are you doing?”

Neil found Andrew’s hand in the snow. “If you live here now, I live here now.”

*

Cold, and now wet, they retreated inside to warm up. Andrew went to have the first shower while Neil put on a pot of coffee, because it was clearly going to be that sort of day. A nothing day.

Neil could live with that.

He heard Andrew step out of the shower just as the coffee pot finally filled to the top, and a moment later the overhead lights went off and that distinct quiet descended as everything electric in the house stopped running.

“Huh,” Neil said. He grabbed a flashlight out of the drawer and went to check the fuse box.

None of the trip switches looked like they needed resetting, and when he flipped the main power switch off and then on again, nothing happened.

Andrew appeared at his shoulder.

“Power cut,” Neil informed him unnecessarily.

“Is it just us?” Andrew asked.

“Good question.” They went to the window in the living room and peered out and up the street. As it was a dark, snowy day, plenty of houses had lights on when Neil and Andrew returned from the store. Now, all of them were off, and a few of their neighbours seemed to be checking out of their own windows, presumably for the same reason as they were.

“I think it’s hit the whole street, at least,” Neil said, turning to Andrew. “Oh, shit, your hair’s wet.”

“That happens sometimes when you have a shower,” Andrew said drily.

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know.”

“I never said I was witty.”

“Okay, shut up, go and get your towel. I’ll start a fire.”

By an extreme stroke of luck, they had a wood-burner fireplace and not an electric one, which meant that they at least had a heat source. Once Neil got it started, he remembered the just brewed coffee and hurried back into the kitchen. He split it between two thermoses so at least it would keep warm, then he took them back through to the living room.

Andrew had re-emerged from their bedroom with the duvet from their bed along with any other blanket he’d managed to find. He was sitting in front of the fire, rubbing at his damp hair with a towel.

Neil handed him a thermos and sat down beside him. “That’s better. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

“You’re the one who hasn’t warmed up after coming in from the snow,” Andrew said. “Go dry off. Change.”

“But it’s so nice and warm here now,” Neil complained, reaching for a blanket.

Andrew snatched it out of the way with his lightning fast goalie reflexes.

“You’re not allowed in the blanket fort until you put on some dry clothes.”

Neil grinned. “Oh, it’s a blanket fort now, is it?”

“Yes, and I’m the king of the blanket fort, so fuck off and change.”

Neil got to his feet and bowed as sarcastically as possible. “Yes, your royal highness.”

To be fair, Andrew was right, and Neil immediately felt better after changing out of his damp clothes and into soft and warm PJs and really thick socks.

“It’s cold outside of the blanket fort,” he said when he got back to Andrew in front of the fire.

“No shit,” Andrew replied, but he caught hold of Neil’s wrist and tugged him closer, wrapping him up in the duvet. They huddled together, sharing warmth, Neil dropping his head onto Andrew’s shoulder and letting himself be held. It was comfort in the disguise of practicality, but Neil knew that neither of them were fooled.

He pressed a kiss onto Andrew’s collar-bone.

“Your face is cold,” Andrew said, and Neil looked up, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

Andrew shrugged. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil said, and Andrew leaned in to kiss him.

This, Neil thought, was a very good way to wait out a power cut. Cocooned in their own little world, roaring fireplace, roaming hands and lips, escaped sighs and body heat and the warmth of their shared breaths between kisses.

Neil could think of worse ways to pass the time.

They got hungry after a while, and Andrew went to the kitchen to forage for food that didn’t require cooking or heating up. He returned with Pringles, cookies, and some fruit which had clearly been brought in for Neil’s benefit.

Neil took a bite of an apple. “How long do you think it’ll take for the power to come back on?”

“Snow’s pretty bad,” Andrew said. “At least a couple of hours, probably? I think there’s a number we can call to check.”

Neil pulled his phone out of his pocket, only to discover that his battery had died.

“You’ll have to do it.”

Andrew checked his own phone, then half smiled and shook his head. “Mine’s dead, too.”

Neil laughed. “Not charging your phone seems like a very me move.”

“Well I guess you’re rubbing off on me.” Andrew put his phone on the coffee table and sighed. “Nicky always calls on Saturdays as well, he’s going to think we’ve died.”

“We can call when the power’s back on,” Neil said. He stretched out across the floor, bunching a pillow up under his head. The warmth from the fireplace was making him feel pleasantly drowsy, which in turn made him talkative in the way that the very tired often are.

“I remember when I was a kid, like, five or six, back in Baltimore, and my dad wasn’t home and there was a power outage. So all the lights and everything went out and the guys he’d left at the house went to check the circuit breakers or whatever, so they were distracted. And my mom just quickly bundled me up and grabbed the car keys and started taking me to the garage, but then one of the guys came back and asked her what she was doing, and without even skipping a beat she said I had a fever and she was taking me to the pharmacy to get something. So he came with us, and then when we got home mom tucked me up in bed, and then she just never mentioned it again. I didn’t even have a fever.”

Andrew was very quiet, listening intently, his eyes never leaving Neil’s face.

“I didn’t realise until years later when we actually ran away in the middle of my Ravens tryout, but I think that was my mom’s first attempt at getting us out.”

Neil had never told anyone that before, but he’d often thought about what would have happened if they had gotten away that night. 

Odds were they’d both be dead. It probably wasn’t worth thinking about at all. That wasn’t the road they ended up taking, and the one they had taken had eventually led Neil here, to this power cut in the little house he owned with Andrew.

This was everything that mattered.

Andrew lay down opposite Neil, facing him. He didn’t comment on what Neil had said, but he gently ran his thumb across the old burn scar on Neil’s cheek.

“Me and Cass were making cookies once when there was a power cut,” he said quietly, and Neil held his breath. A truth for a truth.

“We’d made up the mixture but then we couldn’t put them in the oven because we had no power.” Andrew shrugged. “We could have just set it aside to bake them when it came back on, but instead Cass just handed me a spoon and said she wouldn’t tell if I didn’t. And we just ate raw cookie dough.”

Neil smiled. “You’re not supposed to do that.”

“No. But we did it anyway.”

“Like…the whole bowl?”

“Of course not. Just a couple of spoonfuls. Then we lit a bunch of candles and Cass found an old jigsaw puzzle and we tried to do that just by candlelight until the power came back on.”

This was a good memory, Neil realised. Anything to do with Cass was inevitably tied up with memories of trauma, but Andrew was still going to therapy and had done a lot of introspective work to get to this point, where he could take a memory for exactly what it was; a fun power cut with cookie dough and a jigsaw puzzle. And now he’d shared it with Neil.

Neither of them could change what had happened to them, but they were here now. And wasn’t that just the most remarkable thing?

Neil yawned, and his eyes drifted closed before he jolted them open again. Andrew was staring evenly back at him.

“You can sleep, Neil.”

“I don’t want to. I want to talk to you.”

Andrew shifted closer, throwing the blanket he was covered in over Neil as well.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed Neil’s forehead. “Go to sleep.”

It was hard to argue with that, and Neil’s eyes were so heavy. He let himself drift.

Some time later, the house hummed back to life, beeps from the oven and the microwave, the TV and the fridge and the coffee machine. But it went unnoticed.

Entwined together in front of the dying embers of the fire, Neil and Andrew slept on, safe and warm.

[nikkigrand]

Prompt: Fairy prince Kakashi and lost human Sakura in a top that says "heartbreaker" "Do you humans often wear your titles proudly upon your chest?" 'A breaker of hearts' what an absurd thing to be."

Hi! Thank you for the prompt! I hope you like this! <3 @thatbabefiona

Sakura tripped over an overgrown root with a curse, a giggle, and a hiccup. Oh man, she was drunk—very drunk. She stumbled a bit before righting herself with a deep breath.

“Okay, bitch,” she mumbled to herself, sniffing as she tugged on the hem of her favorite low-cut top then pulled on the sleeves of Kiba’s flannel, “Pull yourself together. You’ve gotta win this thing.”

Placing her hands on her hips, Sakura casted a look around to gain her bearings. She stood in a nice little clearing in the middle of the woods, the sounds of emerging nocturnal critters filling the silence. The sun was setting and she knew without a doubt that if she dawdled for just a second more, she’d be absolutely and positively fucked.

In all honesty, Sakura felt that, at 25, she and her group of friends were getting too old to be doing their annual scavenger hunt. It had been fun when they were teens and even in their early twenties, but now they were just running out of ideas and it was getting to be a bit tedious and boring.

This year, they had placed Naruto in charge and Sakura thought that their group of friends would know by now that one could never trust Naruto with anything. He was just so unpredictable, and things always had a way of going wrong when he was at the helm; and to make matters worse, he had made Kiba his “second in command.”

Kiba was like a second Naruto but with facial hair.

Which led to her current predicament: standing alone in the middle of the woods looking for some silly object.

The night had started the same as every other year: they met at the hosts house, had some drinks, then commenced their hunt. This year Shikamaru was the host due to pulling the longest stick twelve years ago.

The Naras had a nice house—it was situated at the border of Konoha’s hiking trails and preserves—and normally Sakura would have loved to hang out on their backyard patio, swinging on Shikamaru’s hammock and enjoying the nice end of summer breeze; but this year that luxury was squashed by Dumb and Dumber’s announcement that their scavenger hunt was in the woods.

Now don’t get Sakura wrong—she had no problems with Konoha’s preserves and trails…during the day. But at night, whenever she was unfortunate enough to linger in the area, it always gave her the heebie-jeebies. There was something just not right with the place. She always felt like she was being watched, like something was following her, or like there was a secret she wasn’t privy too.

In short, she didn’t like being in there after dark.

Which is why, when Kiba announced their arena for the night, Sakura started taking shots of Fireball as if it could magically give her actual balls of fire. In hindsight, it was a bad idea. If maybe she had been a bit more sober, she wouldn’t be in her current predicament.

Sakura was lost.

Wait. She squinted at the base of a tree, making her way towards a small patch of mushrooms she was sure she’d passed on her way into the deeper parts of the woods.

Ah, nope. I’m lost.

Now you must surely be wondering how she’d be lost on her own if she had been with a group of people, and Sakura will gladly tell you how this came to be.

As kids, their game had first started with twelve people, which was great because that was an even number for three teams of four.

But then they (as teenagers were wont to do) discovered hormones and started pairing off. And that was fine because her friends were finding love with each other so that led to solid teams; and some of her friends were single so it wasn’t awkward for those who weren’t all kissy-kissy with their boyfriends and girlfriends.

That was until those who were single started dating people outside their usual group of friends and bringing them to the scavenger hunt. It was always a pain trying to make adjustments to their dynamic and adding them to teams—trying to fit a stranger who didn’t know how things worked.

Flings came and went until they were left with serious relationships. So, in the end, their number went from twelve to eighteen this year.

Or so Sakura thought.

She’d had a bit of a thing with one of her friends for a little over a year, beginning last year ironically during a scavenger hunt. She’d always had a crush on Sasuke, how could she not?

He was everything her little teenage angsty girl heart could ever want. He was like a angry surly cat she wanted to tame and bring home and love forever and ever.

But reality kind of sucks and Sasuke wasn’t a cat—surly and angry, but not a cat—and in the end, things didn’t work out, so they cut it off a little over two months ago. They were still friends—Sakura wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t care for him—but good sex wasn’t enough to make her stay.

Especially not when he admitted to her face that he didn’t think he had the emotional capabilities to “do” relationships.

So, imagine her surprise when he showed up to Shikamaru and Temari’s house with Naruto’s cousin on his arm. Sakura didn’t have a problem with Karin, in fact, she actually quite liked the fiery red head. It just hurt to see him moving on so soon and made her question all the things he’d said to her.

Because of Karin’s presence, the teams went from three groups of six to two groups of six and one group of seven.

In the end, Sakura ended up as the nineteenth wheel. She was the odd man out and the whole thing chafed, so she finished the entire bottle of Fireball Whiskey by herself and tried not to think about the couple exchanging soft words by the coolers.

She was placed on Ino’s team because the blonde, bless her heart, took an instant disliking to Karin on Sakura’s behalf.

“Well, if you won’t hate her, I will,” she’d said haughtily as she started writing their team name down on name tags. “Who does that hussy think she is? Everyone knows you and Sasuke were supposed to end up together, that’s why Lee finally gave up and got himself a girlfriend!”

Ino’s lips had pursed in irritation. “And now look—now we have uneven teams. Sasuke is such a dick.”

Ino had a point, Sasuke was a dick, but not for including Karin.

By the time they had broken off into their teams (theirs being the Heartbreakers), Sakura was too drunk to care about Ol’ Duck Butt and his Ketchup bottle girlfriend. In fact, when they’d started the hunt, she was having a great time! She wasn’t even thinking about how she was the seventh wheel and the only single person in her group of friends.

That was until their team had bumped into Naruto’s team and both sunshine blondes of her life started going at each other’s throats about winning the $475 pool. As soon as they parted ways, things went left.

“Alright!” Ino had stomped her foot, teeth gritting and eyes flashing dangerously, “There is no way we’re losing to that blockhead! We only have four things left. So that means we’re splitting up! Everyone grab a partner, pick a thing, and let’s get moving!”

The couples were quick to take hold of each other’s hands, announce their item and go in different directions—which left Sakura standing awkwardly by herself, alone in the creepy woods she hated being in in the first place.

She’d stood there for a moment, swaying a bit on her feet, before clearing her throat and starting to walk, huffing along as she went, “This is fine. We’re fine. I’m fine.”

Which leads us to where she is now, looking for a green glass bottle to match the color of her eyes.

And no, she wasn’t being vain, that was literally what the list said in Naruto’s photo copied block letters: “Green glass bottle that looks like Sakura’s eyes.”

The sun was setting quicker than she thought possible and even as drunk and uncaring as she was, it still served to make her feel uneasy. Sakura started feeling that sensation of being watched and it made her swallow nervously. But of course, they don’t call alcohol liquid courage without reason, so she trudged on in search of a glass bottle.

She pulled out her phone to check the time and saw a text message from Ino. Swiping her thumb across the screen, she squinted her eyes and tried to make out what in the hell the blonde was trying to say.

•

Peppa-Pig: Hry thr hell up 5 hed! We got our shiiiiizzzz! w8n on u! Wher r u?!

•

She’d just gone to reply when her screen went dark, indicating a dead battery. Sakura cursed at the block of technology in her hand, shaking it as if it would make it turn back on. As such, she didn’t notice the body in front of her until it was too late.

She bumped into what felt like a brick wall and was saved from falling on her butt only by virtue of being steadied by two large hands. Even still, she cursed as she cradled her throbbing nose, tears springing to her eyes and a pounding headache quickly taking the place of that nice cottony buzz she had going on.

“Ow!” She cried. “What the hell?!”

In between her rapid blinking, she could make out a man standing in front of her, tall as hell and super sparkly.

She tried blinking the tears away. Nope, still sparkly. She wiped her eyes, smearing what little bit of makeup she had on, and her jaw slackened.

In front of her stood the most gorgeous man she had ever had the pleasure of setting her eyes upon. Wherever the sun touched his skin, it sparkled like the finest marble. Green eyes drank in his face like a woman starved and by the way she was staring at him, you’d think she’d never seen a man before in her life.

Well, a man like this, at least. Which she sure hasn’t. Not at all.

His eyes shone like they were cut from granite and were framed by a set of finely shaped brows. They stared at her with open curiosity and maybe even a bit of contempt. Sakura’s eyes immediately wandered to his hair, spun out of what could only be pure moonlight. In it sat a crown of ivy and gold, and he only wore a pair of green pants slung low on his hips. No shoes, no shirt.

Sakura shut her mouth with an audible click.

Then she started giggling. Uncontrollably.

“Holy shit, girl,” she gasped in between hysterics, “How much did you drink?! You’re hallucinating! You’re seeing fairies and crap!”

She bent over as full belly giggles took over, her pastel hair falling in curtains around her face, and when she straightened she was alone in the creepy forest of doom once more. Sakura shook her head; that was the absolute last time she was ever drinking Fireball Whiskey.

As soon as she got back to Shikamaru’s house, she was going to find out which one of those assholes slipped something into her drink and make them eat her fist.

“Do you humans often wear your titles proudly upon your chest?”

Sakura screeched, tilting her head back to see the same man from before standing on a branch above her.

“A ‘breaker of hearts,’ what an absurd thing to be,” he scoffed as he crossed his arms.

“Holy shit!” Sakura cried as she openly gaped up at him then scrambled back as he stepped off the branch to gracefully land in front of her like it were totally normal for men to fall out of trees.

He stepped towards her, completely invading her space, eyes narrowed and focused on her chest intently.

So, Sakura did what any woman in her position would do.

She slapped him.

The man reared back in shock and Sakura quickly covered her chest, her finger catching on the name tag Ino had stuck on there.

The man cradled his cheek as he stared back in disbelief.

“You struck me!” He exclaimed, eyes blazing as he took a threatening step towards her.

“You were being a pervert!” Sakura snapped, hands curling into fists.

“What?!”

“You were staring at my chest!”

The man gestured wildly at her torso, his little gold leaf crown sitting askew in his hair. “Only because you proclaim yourself to be a breaker of hearts!”

Sakura’s eyes narrowed in confusion before her lips rounded as she realized he was talking about her team’s name. Then her eyebrow shot to her hairline. Okay, this guy was weird.

“It’s a nickname,” she informed slowly because clearly this guy was missing a few screws. “Nothing special about it.”

The man’s arms crossed over his well sculpted chest, his crown still sitting lopsided in his hair, and Sakura wanted so badly to fix it because it was driving her crazy and he looked absolutely ridiculous.

Speaking of ridiculous….

“Sir—”

“Prince Kakashi.”

Sakura rolled her eyes, deciding to humor him for now.

“Okay, Prince Kakashi,” she saw him grit his teeth at her mocking tone. “Do you not know about nicknames? Why are you wearing a costume?”

Kakashi stared at her blankly to the point she was worried he’d gone brain dead and catatonic right before her eyes.

“A costume?” He repeated, head tilting to the side in a way reminiscent of a puppy. “This is royal attire.”

Sakura’s other eyebrow joined its sister at her hairline. Okay, so the guy was extremely hot, but he was also extremely weird. Now the question was, was he hot enough to overlook the weirdness?

He reached up to finally straighten his tilted crown and Sakura nearly swooned at the sight of his rippling muscles. Okay, so yes, he was hot enough and she was drunk enough.

So, because she hadn’t gotten laid in a while, Sakura took a step towards him and felt a bit of a thrill when he didn’t step back.

“Do you want to know why they call me a ‘Heartbreaker,’ Kakashi?” She teased, hands held tightly behind her back.

Kakashi’s eyes widened then narrowed suspiciously.

“Prince Kakashi,” he corrected, and Sakura nodded her head placatingly.

“Yes, yes, Prince Kakashi,” she cooed. “Do you want to know why?”

He took a closer step towards her and Sakura would be a filthy liar if she said it didn’t exhilarate her to be doing something so unlike her and bold.

His voice was a growl, husky and as electrifying as his eyes as he looked down at her, “Yes.”

“Then kiss me and find out.”

She only had a second to doubt and wonder about her actions before he, surprisingly gentle, curled his hands around her face and lowered his pillow soft lips onto her own.

Immediately, Sakura knew that this kiss would ruin her life. By the way he slanted his lips across her own, quickly taking control and sweeping his tongue along her lower lip and then teasing her tongue, she knew that she’d been kissing amateurs her whole life.

This was a kiss. This was mind blowing and the stuff of dreams.

And she wasn’t saying that because she was drunk.

Kakashi wrapped a corded arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him and pressing her to his chest. The angle made it so that he was too tall to reach, so they parted for a second only so that he could back her into a tree to hoist her up. Sakura’s legs wrapped around him as he buried his hands in her thick locks of hair, tugging on them gently so he could trail kisses down her neck.

Sakura had a fleeting thought that this was escalating quickly and that Hinata would surely be disappointed in her for kissing strange men in darkened woods. But Ino would be cackling madly and would probably be proud of her.

It’s that thought that makes her grind her hips into Kakashi, legs tightening desperately around him. She could feel him and wondered if she had it in her to have sex against this tree with a stranger.

Ino would have, if she were in her shoes and didn’t have Sai.

Kakashi moaned low in his throat as the kiss deepened further, Sakura raking her nails down his back and digging her feet into his lower back to bring him closer to where she wanted him most.

She could hear Ino now: calling her name and cheering her on.

Wait, that was Ino calling her name.

“Sakura!” She heard Ino call from the distance, then some more of her friends. “Where are you!?”

Sakura pulled back from Kakashi’s lips and rested her forehead on his shoulder with a groan, unwrapping her legs from around him and sliding slowly down his body.

He chuckled. “You are certainly a breaker of hearts.”

Fixing up her mussed hair, Sakura couldn’t help but laugh.

“I could say the same about you…” then as an afterthought, she added cheekily, “Prince Kakashi.”

Rolling his eyes, Kakashi adjusted himself before stepping away from her, the marks from her nails glaringly bright against his pale skin. Sakura felt bad but found that she liked that she left her mark on him.

She fidgeted a bit. Now that they weren’t on top of each other and she was sobering up, she had no idea what to say.

“Um—”

“I will find you again, worry not.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. Kakashi tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers trailing gently over the soft skin of her cheek. She could hear her friends’ footsteps and voices as they got closer to finding her and she sighed. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead and then her mouth.

“I will visit you soon,” he murmured against her lips as her eyes slipped shut, savoring the moment with this gorgeous and enticing stranger.

“I will see you soon, Heartbreaker.”

And when she opened her eyes, she gasped as she saw him disappear into a tree. Not behind, but inside the tree! He gave her a cheeky wink and then he was gone, vines wrapping around the tree and flowers growing in the space he once stood. And with him went the feeling of being watched and followed.

Sakura felt a tickle near her ear just as Ino came up behind her with an exasperated cry of “Sakura! Where have you been?!”

Reaching up to touch the cherry blossom sprig tucked in her hair, Sakura only had one thought in her head.

Holy crap, I just made out with a fairy prince.

[verai-marcel]

Beautiful Red

(This is a short story I wrote in March 2017. End notes are from back then as well.)

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

The phone rang loud in Suri's apartment. She picked up her cell and looked at the number.

"Mom?"

She hit the answer button. "Hello?" "Suri, come to the hospital on Fifth and Trevor street. Your grandma fell."

Shocked, she could only stutter as she quickly grabbed her purse and left to drive quickly to the hospital her mother spoke of, while getting the details from her on the way.

"Is she okay?" "Clearly not." "I meant, will she get better?" "Yes, but it will take some time. She will need to use a cane for a while." "What happened?" "She twisted her ankle while she was doing some garden work outside. The doctor is taking x-rays now to make sure that no bones are broken."

Suri reached the hospital, parked, and walked inside.

"I'm here, I'll find you shortly." She hung up and found the room her mother had told her, and they waited. And waited.

Finally the doctor arrived, pushing Suri's grandma in a wheelchair.

"Shadi has no broken bones, but she will have to stay here for a week before we can let her go home. After that, she will have to be more careful around the house and restrict any strenuous physical activity for another few weeks."

"See Natasha? I said I would be alright," Shadi said to Suri's mother. "You're such a worrywart, like your father." She slowly transferred into the bed and lay down, getting settled as if she were at home.

The doctor gave his final notes and left them to check on other patients. Silence filled the room for a few minutes.

"Please Mother, come live with me. It's dangerous to live out in the woods all by yourself." "I've been fine all this time, this was just a little fall. Just a few more years." "You said that a few years ago! Mother, you have to face the fact that you're old, and it's difficult for us to look after you if you're 2 hours away in the middle of nowhere!"

Shadi was quiet for a little while. Then she finally said, "I'll think about it. That's all I promise." "Better than nothing," Natasha said tersely.

Then Shadi looked at Suri. "Suri, child, can you house sit, just for the week? You can help eat the food before it spoils. But I understand if you can't take time off work." Suri smiled. "It's okay Grandma," she said. "I work with a computer. I can work anywhere." She didn't bother trying to explain the exact nature of her web design job; her grandma didn't even own a cell phone, let alone a computer.

Shadi nodded, not quite understanding, but grateful anyway. "Thank you. Just remember to water the plants on Wednesday."

Suri nodded. "No problem." She stood up and grabbed her purse. "Guess I'll head out then. I'll call you when I get there, Mom."

"Be careful! The woods are dangerous at night. Keep all the windows and doors locked!"

Rolling her eyes, Suri just replied "Yes Mom" as she left.

***

Suri looked over her suitcase one last time. She had enough clothes for a week, toiletries, her laptop and accessories, and most importantly, her tablet for reading. She was prepared to work comfortably out in the forest for a week, and hoped she could get more done out in the quiet than she could here in the city. Closing up her suitcase, she gathered her things, packed them into the trunk of her beat up yet trusty Cavalier and drove off to her grandmother's house.

Two hours later, she arrived after traversing a very long and windy mountain road to reach a small cottage out in the middle of the forest. Only one small dirt road led up to her grandmother's house, and very rarely did she get visitors other than Suri & Natasha. Looking at her phone, Suri breathed a sigh of relief as she saw that she had three bars. There must be a cell phone tower nearby, probably on the peak in the distance, she thought.

She lugged her suitcase up the porch stairs, opened the door with the key her grandma gave her, and turned on the light. Or tried to. She flipped the switch a couple of times before realizing that the power was out. She turned on the flashlight app on her phone and got her gear into the living room, and then went out the back door to find the basement.

Turning the corner, she found the basement doors and unlocked the padlock. Pulling with most of her strength, she lifted the heavy doors up and went inside to find the fuse box.

"Dammit, I was hoping this wasn't the case." She turned the power off and started to go through the circuit list, and while reading instructions on her phone about how to reset breakers, she quickly fixed what she needed to and turned the power back on. The overhead light in the basement flickered to life, and she sighed. "Thank goodness," she breathed, turning to leave.

Then she stopped. In the entrance of basement stood a very large canine. Hoping it was a dog, Suri stood still and barely breathed. "Here doggy?" she whispered, scared that it wasn't a dog. It was far too big.

The canine tilted its head, then slowly stepped forward into the light. It looked like an Alaskan Malamute, but slightly bigger. Suri couldn't be sure, but she was familiar with her friend's malamute, and it looked a bit similar. She took a chance, since she knew running was useless at this close of a range.

She held her hand out, angled her body slightly away from the dog without taking her eyes off of it completely, and let it come to her.

Sniffing the air, the dog snarled a bit before walking straight up to her and shoving its nose right into her hand.

Suri took a deep breath and finally looked down at the dog. It was looking up at her with an intense stare.

"Are we cool?" she asked tentatively, knowing that the dog couldn't understand her.

The dog snuffled at her, and licked her hand.

"I guess we're cool," she said, relaxing a bit. She slowly knelt down and started to pet the dog. It just wagged his tail its tail happily, all the while staring at her.

"I gotta go, buddy. Let's get out of the basement." She got up and started to leave, and noticed that the dog shadowed her movements, all the way out of the basement, and back to the house.

Raising an eyebrow at the dog, who was patiently waiting at the door as if it wanted to go in, and had done this before, Suri decided to call her mom.

"Hey mom? Are you still with grandma? Yeah? Can I talk to her for a second?"

Suri waited for a few moments while her mom gave the phone to her grandma. "What is it, child?" "Do you own a dog? There's one here, and it looks like it wants to go inside, like its been here before." "Oh, that's Rafe. Let him in, he's fine. He's a silly one, he'll eat at the table like a human, so just put a plate of meat and a bowl of water on the table for him. You'll know where he sits. His food is in the fridge in a box with his name on it." "Oh. Alright. Anything else you want to tell me about house sitting?" "No, that's it. Rafe is very independent, he'll come and go as he pleases, but he'll always come back at dusk to eat and sleep. He sleeps wherever, so just let him be. You can't move him once he's chosen a spot." "Alright Grandma. I'm going to try and get some work done before I sleep, so I'll talk to you later." "Good night, dearest."

Suri hung up and sighed. She didn't know dog sitting was part of this deal. But free food, especially her grandma's leftovers, was absolutely worth it. Not that she wasn't a shabby cook, but if she could get food for free, then why not stay and house sit? Or in this case, also dog sit.

She opened the door and Rafe walked straight in and hopped into a chair on the far side of the table. It was the only corner of the table with a large plastic place-mat, and a bowl and a plate were set out.

"Jeez, I get the idea." Suri opened the fridge and pulled out a box labeled "Rafe" and opened it. "This looks like human food, buddy."

Rafe woofed quietly.

"So... you eat this?"

Woof.

Suri just shrugged, and scooped up some of the food into his plate. Then she took his bowl and filled it up with water, and set it down in front of him. She sat opposite the dog and watched him eat. At first he didn't notice her, but when he did, he stopped for a moment to look back at her.

"Don't mind me. I'm not hungry. You go ahead and eat."

Rafe growled, and started nudging his plate to her with his nose.

"Wow, typical male. Alright, I'll go find a bit of food and eat with you, okay?"

Rafe woofed once, and then started eating again.

"Bizarre, it's like you understand me or something. Or I'm already having cabin fever and it's only been an hour since I got here."

Suri ate a bit of rice pilaf, washed up, and brought her things upstairs to the guest room where she and her mother had always stayed when they came out to visit. She had just started to get ready for bed, when she heard Rafe howling.

"Oh my god, he better not be like this all night," she grumbled as she headed downstairs. She saw him at the front door, pawing at the door knob.

"What, you want out?" She opened the door, but Rafe just stood there and stared at her, like she had forgotten something. She closed the door and started to walk away, but Rafe gently bit her shirt and pulled her back.

"What?"

He pawed the door knob again.

It suddenly clicked. "Oh, you want me to lock it?" She locked the door and the deadbolt above it. Satisfied, Rafe started walking towards the back door, looking back as he went to make sure she was following him. She locked the back door too.

"There, you happy?" Rafe looked up at her and grinned a doggy grin, tongue hanging out and all.

Suri smiled. She couldn't help growing fond of the big dog. She knelt down and hugged him. "You're so cute, smile for me more often, okay?" Rafe pulled back and licked her nose, making Suri wrinkle it and grin.

She let him go and went upstairs, Rafe following her like a shadow. He went into the room with her and hunkered down on the large rug in front of the bed. He watched her sort out her things, but when she started to take off her clothes, she noticed he covered his face with his paws, and looked away. Curious, she walked around to the other side of him, and he turned his head the other way, his paws still over his eyes.

Suri let out an amused chuckle. "That's a first. A dog who understands human modesty. Well thank you, Rafe." She patted the dog on the head before going into the bathroom to clean up for bed.

Once she was done, she plopped onto the bed and sighed contentedly. She had missed this place. Thinking back to her many visits as a child, she grinned and curled up onto the big bed. Soon after, she felt Rafe hop onto the bed and curl up next to her.

"Wow, you're pretty forward, doggy." She reached out to scratch his head. "G'night." Woof.

***

Three days passed in an almost idyllic way. Suri got more work done than she had expected, and tethering her laptop to her phone, sent the finished product to her client, who, pleased with her progress, paid her immediately and referred her to another client, who was out of the office for the rest of the week and would get back to her about a new project when she returned. That meant that Suri had the next four days off, to read and relax. Or she could work on getting more clients, which she started doing in the morning.

But by afternoon, she was bored, and started to read books on her tablet. Her guilty pleasure, paranormal romance, where impossible things happened to normal girls, big beefy guys with supernatural powers would devote themselves wholeheartedly to plain Jane women. Suri could relate. Her past relationships had all been boring, tepid romances where the men quickly got bored with her after they realized she wasn't some exotic bimbo that they could coax into bed. That, and her lack of experience made her pretty boring in the sheets, and she knew it. She had been told that several times, and while she didn't always agree with why a man broke up with her, she could at least agree that she lacked the passion. But how could she have any passion for those men? They were all boring. And she knew she had impossible standards, that's why she bothered dating below them. But in the end, she was unsatisfied, and it showed in her lackluster relationships. She was aware that she was rather impossible to please, and had resigned herself to a life of solitude and being an old maid. She had even taken up knitting the previous year as a joke to her friends, but she actually ended up enjoying it a lot.

Lost in her books, she didn't realize it had become night as she heard Rafe howling at her back door. Coming down the stairs, she stopped when she saw an armed robber, clearly waving a knife menacingly at her dog, who was growling and trying to snap at the man's legs. He finally push kicked Rafe away, and Suri could only watch as the dog tumbled into another room and out of her sight.

"Rafe!"

The robber's attention switched to her, and he began to stalk towards her. She immediately began backing up towards the kitchen, hoping to pick up something to defend herself. She didn't want to take her eyes off the man, but running backwards wasn't doing her any favors either. She finally turned to sprint away, and she could tell the man was about pounce on her. Her legs tensed, her arms reached out-

And she heard the man yelp. She spared a glance behind her and suddenly stopped. A large naked bear of a man had the robber in a choke hold, and she just watched as he was slowly subdued, his air running out, and finally passed out. The naked man dropped the robber on the floor, and slowly looked up at her. Putting her hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming, she started to back up again towards the kitchen.

"Suri."

She stopped. "Do I know you?"

The man slowly walked towards her, and she began trembling uncontrollably. This man was all muscle, and there was no getting away fast enough. She wasn't in terrible shape, but she knew when she was physically outclassed. As he reached her, he slowly lifted a hand to her face, gently brushing her hair from her cheek.

"You know me, Suri. We've been sharing a bed for the past three nights."

She blinked. Her mind could not, would not accept what he just said. But her heart wanted to believe.

"...Rafe?"

His bright white smile contrasted with his coffee colored skin and his dark, wavy hair that fell around his piercing grey eyes.

Suri lifted her hands to Rafe's chest, touching him to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. She lifted her arms and ran her hands through the thick waves, familiarity running through her senses.

Rafe gently took hold of her hands and stepped out of her reach. "I need to tie up the criminal and leave him by the main road. Lock the door behind me. Then stay upstairs and wait for me. There's a metal baseball bat in Grandma's closet on the left side."

He was met with a silent nod, and he watched as she made her way upstairs quickly. Once she was out of sight, he found the rope and duct tape in the coat closet and securely tied up the burglar, put tape over his mouth, and hauled the man outside. He looked up to see if Suri was looking outside; she was not. He stretched, and his human form extended and grew fur, and he shifted into his wolf-man form. Tucking the tied up man under one arm, he loped out quickly to the main road, dropped the man off, and loped back to the house.

Rafe shifted back as he approached the porch, and noticed that Suri was standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the light, a baseball bat over one shoulder.

"I thought I told you to wait for me upstairs."

"I saw you coming."

He paused. He didn't want to let her see all of him tonight. Well, he supposed she had technically seen all of him, but only in his human form.

Suri put the bat down and walked up to him. She wrapped her arms around him and sighed.

"Let's talk, Rafe."

He nodded and followed her as she led him inside. They talked. He told her about how he was cursed by a shaman long ago, how her grandma had been trying to find a way to break his curse while he worked for her as protector, gardener, and personal aide. She took it all in, not interrupting, just accepting his words.

At the end of his tale, he looked at her.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stood up. He watched.

"Let's go to bed. We'll deal with this in the morning."

She started upstairs, and when Rafe didn't follow, she turned and held her hand out.

"I've gotten used to sleeping with you beside me. Or do you not want to anymore?"

Rafe smiled and got up to follow her.

"I do. Let's sleep. We'll figure things out tomorrow."

And they did.

------------------------------- Ugh, this is not quite how I wanted to end this, but I wrote this so long ago that I kind of forgot what the end goal was...

[Suri = Red Rose]

[demiwizard7]

We Make A Great Team

Prompt 2: Childhood

Main Characters: Rouge Cheney/ Sting Eucliffe

Mentions: All 5 Dragons and their kids

For @ftguildevents​ Slayerweek

__________________________________________________________________

“I don’t get why I have to meet the other dragon slayers” Rouge complained. 

“Come on child you know you need to learn how to best use your magic and the best way to do it is to train with the other slayers.” Skiadrum explained to him patiently again. “Don’t worry child this is just a visit to get you acquainted with the others.” Skiadrum reassured his son “and to get there you can ride on my back, I promise I'll give you a fun ride if you promise to try and get along with the other slayers.” His dad said, trying to get Rogue excited. Rogue smiled at his dad and promised him that he would behave excited to have a chance to ride on his dad's back. 

They set out soaring through the skies Rouge screamed in joy as he held on tightly to his dad's cool black scales flying through the air feeling the wind on his face twirling in the sky laughing in excitement. When he looked up and reached his hand out into the sky he swore he could feel the wetness of the clouds. His dad was soaring through the air doing twirls and backflips as he promised. It was perfect, his personal paradise just him, his dad and the open skies just how he liked it. 

They reached the meeting spot in 30 minutes and were met with Igneel’s, Weisslogia and Grandeeny’s hulking forms already on the huge open field in the middle surrounded by lush green forest. He landed next to them and let Rogue jump down before he went to go talk to the rest of the dragons to discuss the real reason for this meeting, Acnologia. They had to take action soon he was getting more and more powerful, more and more ruthless they were all in danger they had to make sure they beat him for their kids and their futures. They had to make sure that everything was going according to the plan.

He started talking to the other dragons “we are still waiting for Mitalicana and his boy” Igneel said “then we shall discuss the plan. Until then let’s just wait” Igneel continued on.

10 minutes later Metalicana came with his kid and they started to discuss their plans in secret while the kids ran off together.   

“What do you guys wanna do?” Some kid with blond spiky hair asked them all.

“Let’s play tag.” An energetic kid with pink spiky hair said, pumping his fist into the air. 

“Let's play hide and seek.” A cool looking kid with long black spiky hair said at the same time. They looked at each other for a second and started fighting with each other.

“Tag is way better than hide and seek!” The kid with pink spiky hair.

“What you’re crazy, why don’t we just ask the other kids!” The cool-looking kid said. 

“Fine! What do you guys wanna do?” The pink-haired kid asked them all.

“I agree with- hey what is your guy’s name?” The blond hair kid asked reminding then they don’t know each other's names

“Well, I’m Natsu Dragneel the fire dragon slayer!” The energetic pink haired kid said

“I’m Gajeel Redfox the iron dragon slayer. ” The cool black spiky haired kid said.

“I’m Wendy Marvell the sky dragon slayer.” The small blue haired girl said.

“I’m Rogue Cheney the shadow dragon slayer.” I told the small group.

“And I'm Sting Eucliffe the white dragon slayer.” The blond hair kid told us all.

“Okay dragon slayers!” Gajeel shouted for their attention “what do you guys wanna do?” He asked us all.  

“Let’s play tag!” Sting said while looking up at Natsu.

“Yeah!” Natsu shouted, pumping a flaming fist in the air. 

“Hold on pinky we still need to ask the rest of the kids.” Gajeel told Natsu.

“HEY WHO YOU CALLIN PINKY, LET ME TEACH YOU A LESSON LET’S FIGHT!” Natsu shouted.

“LET’S GO RIGHT NOW!” Gajeel yelled back.

“STOP GUYS!” Wendy started crying trying to stop their fighting.

“Okay fine.” They both said stopping while glaring at each other.

 “Anyway, I wanna play hide and seek so I guess Wendy is the tie-breaker” I told them all looking at Wendy.

“U-Uhh me.” She stuttered thinking about it for a moment. “I know!” She said quickly “why don’t we just play hide and seek tag!” She told them all excitedly.

“Yeah!” They all shouted agreeing with her.

“You know kid you're pretty smart” Natsu said smiling at the little girl. 

“I-i’m not that smart.” Wendy said, her cheeks flushing. “Anyway, who's going to be it?” She asked them all to change the subject.

“I wanna be it!” Natsu told them all “It’ll be a piece of cake with my nose.” Natsu bragged.

“Are you an idiot? We all have great noses” Gajeel told him.

Natsu glared at him and huffed “whatever, so I’m going to count to 30 while you guys hide and when I find you I’ll have to tag you and you will be out. Whoever gets out first will have to be it next time.” Natsu explained to them.

“Yeah yeah yeah we know how to play,” Gajeel told him, rolling his eyes at Natsu.

Natsu said nothing and just glared at Gajeel not wanting to start another fight as he walked over to a tree closing his eyes and started counting “1, 2...” He started counting and they all ran off in different directions.

Rouge ran as fast as he could into the nearby forest hiding in a thick cluster of bushes. I’ll have to keep moving since he can sniff me out pretty easily he thought not wanting to get tagged. 

After a couple of minutes he ran in the opposite direction he smelt Natsu and the others coming from looked like they'd been caught. It smelled like Sting in that direction too so I’m guessing we are the last two people. Well, it’s not like I have any other choice he thought and bolted since he could smell and hear Natsu getting closer to him. 

Rogue ran into Sting and they decided that they would hide together since the others had already been caught. Together they ran deeper into the forest and hid behind some plants just in case.

 “Hey Rogue.” Sting started talking to him. “Don’t you think Natsu is super cool?” He asked Rogue with starry eyes.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He replied, “But I think that Gajeel is way cooler than him.” He replied excitedly.

“Ehh he’s pretty cool but I think Nats-” Sting got cut off by a deafening roar coming from near them and then huge stomps walking over in their direction.

“What do we have here?” A huge green and ugly monster with sharp teeth looked at them closely. “Two little brats all by themselves in the woods. You guys will make a tasty dinner for me.” It said to them. 

Sting was the first to react to the threat “Yeah right!” He said to the ugly monster “you think you can stand up to two dragon slayers?” Sting asked the ugly thing.

“Dragonslayers or not you're still kids and my dinner.” The monster replied cockily.

“Hey Rouge.” Sting said looking over at him “wanna show him how dragon slayers do it?” Sting asked with a small smirk on his lips. 

He looked over at Sting and nodded and together they rushed the monster both using the small amount of magic they had learned to try and defeat this monster.

“Hey, Sting!” Rogue yelled out “let’s roar at him together!” Rogue said to Sting. 

Alright, they both took in a deep breath “SHADOW DRAGON!” Rouge yelled.

“WHITE DRAGON!” Sting yelled.

“ROAR!” They yelled together putting everything they have into the attack unleashing a ray of darkness and light on the monster. The air cleared and they saw him on the floor K.Oed.

Sting gave him a tired smile “we make a good team don’t we.” And collapsed on the floor.

“Yeah.” He replied tiredly looking over at the dead monster “we do.” And also collapsed on the floor.

Rogue opened his eyes and was met with his dad's huge form surrounding his body. “Oh thank god you're awake.” His dad sighed in relief.

“Hey, dad.” Rogue said, taking in the hulking form of his dad rubbing his throbbing head “What happ-.” And then it all came back to him to hide and seek, the monster, Sting. “Is Sting ok!?” Rogue asked, suddenly panicking. 

“He’s fine he’s over there you can see him later you guys passed out after fighting that monster and the other kids found you and carried you back.” His dad explained. 

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

“Hey, Sting.” Rogue said approaching him smiling from ear to ear that they were safe. “You okay?” He asked the other boy. 

“Yeah, just a little sore but can’t keep me down.” He smiled back at him “what about you? 

“Same.” He said smiling at him sitting next to him.

[howaboutleeches]

one needy request: following captain!MC and captain!julian’s encounter in the tavern, they party on either on Mc’s or Julian’s ship and spend the night teasing, building ENORMOUS sexual tension like eye contact, mc noticing details about him dhxhshsv but also getting to know one another and their crew... all perhaps leading to a smut or any sort of tension relief satisfaction? up to you, tho im sure whatever you choose to do t’ll be eyecandy 🌸👀

"Are you a good man, Captain?" Julian x Reader (pt.2)

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, sexual tension

Part 1

Word Count: 3,839

On the last chapter....

"Captain! We won!" Jackie bursted into the room and Julian turned his head while I ducked to the side to look at her "Ooooh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were, well, yeah. I'm, uh, going down and, well, see ya!"

We kept looking at the door until the sound of her footsteps were nothing but a simple memory. We stared at each other again and starting laughing, still holding onto one another.

"Now that was a mood breaker" I pressed my forehead against his chest and he sighed.

"Well, I'm sure we'll be able to continue our fun another time"

My eyes went wide and I smiled at him "We are having a party tonight at my ship, you and your crew should come!" I realized I sounded to excited and fake coughed "I mean, only if you want to"

He laughed lightly and kissed my cheek "It'll be my pleasure, darling"

I let go of his clothes and walked past him, going out of the room, but stopping before he vanished from my sight "Maybe you can show me how bad you are"

I ran down the corridor, rushing down the stairs, excited and giggling like a teenager. I couldn't wait to tell Jackie all the juicy details.

Now....

"Ah, I just can't believe I ruined that! Captain, you were finally gonna get some!" Jackie said loudly enough to turn some heads in our direction.

"Keep it down, I don't want everyone to know about my personal life" I led her by the arm to the street, going outside of the crowded bar.

"So, do you have anything in mind? I mean, he looks like a piece of work. The type that likes to keep things interesting"

She wasn't wrong. By the little time I spent with him I noticed that he was the type that liked to be surprised. Dull wasn't his thing. I wanted to make a good impression on him, not gonna lie. But I still didn't want to seem desperate.

"Not really. I don't want to overdo it, but I definitely want to show my interest. What do you suggest?" I trudge Jackie with my life, and she always had success on her love affairs, so why not ask her?

"You know what? Go to the ship, take a nice bath, dress nicely and spray some perfume. I'll take care of the rest" Her mischievous grin made a chill run down my spine.

"Can't you at least tell me what you're thinking?"

"Sorry Cap, no can do. Now go and get sexy" She started pushing me to walk faster and I did, a little grumpy for not knowing what her plan was about.

After a few minutes walking on the dark and calm streets, I saw my ship. The beautiful Enchantress, lit by the moonlight. It was a "family inheritance", since all my ancestors before me were pirates as well. My parents retired, saying that piracy life wasn't for them anymore, and gave me the ship. Even though I was quite young at the time, I still managed to select a very good crew, sail and manage it with grace.

The ship itself had been strictly taken care of. I have visited many ships during my years as a captain. Invitations to raids, parties or just drunken talks were quite usual for me. And that gave me the chance to take a look at other captains ships, making me feel proud of my own. There was usually blood, oil or even piss on the deck, making it unbearable to stay on the deck for more than fifteen minutes.

My beautiful Enchantress, on the other hand, was vigorously scrubbed almost every day and, to my surprise, the crew actually enjoyed doing the cleaning. Some of them had some experience with ships and claimed that they always wanted to keep the place organized, but their former captains required other types of services from them, leaving no time for cleaning. It was a relief for them to be able to work in a nice smelling place.

As I entender the ship, the soft smell of the ocean entered my nose and I could help but feel I little bit more relaxed. I strutted towards my cabin, the captain's cabin, and started taking some of my ornaments off. Hat, bandana, necklace and rings were all off and laying on the bed next to my recently removed sword. I noticed a stain on my shirt and leaned down to smell it, instantly regretting it. Booze and probably piss. It probably got there when I was crawling behind the counter.

And then it hit me. Shit! Captain Devorak probably smelled that on me. And now he must be thinking that I'm a drunk that pees on myself. I ruined everything. Damn it. Changing clothes was the best option that crossed my mind and I decided to oblige to it. Taking off my pants and dirty shirt, and throwing them on the dirty clothes bucket, I opened my wardrobe to find...almost nothing. Literally, almost nothing. The piece of clothing was almost nothing. On one of our scavenging hunts to Danog, Jackie stole this, well, night lady worker's dress and told I would look marvelous on me. Of course, marvelous wasn't the word that she used.

And now that was the only piece of clean clothing left on my wardrobe. I couldn't wear something dirty, especially after the booze and piss incident. That would have to do for the night. I gave light pats on the dress in case there was any dust on it and started to put it on. At first it was a little uncomfortable, since the outfit had many holes on it and I didn't exactly knew how to put it on. After five agonizing minutes, the dress was on and I looked at myself on the mirror, not recognizing the person staring back.

The dress wasn't short, but it had an opening in it that went from my feet to the middle of my thigh. Its fabric was very light and soft, making the dress dance with the slightest presence of wind. On the chest part, it was indeed very exposing. It showed off almost all my chest, and if I bent down, that's exactly what would happen. It had no sleeves, except for a very thin strap holding the whole dress on my body. It was definitely not my style, but it had to do for tonight.

As I kept preparing myself, I could hear people getting on the ship and going lower deck, towards the little saloon that we had. I couldn't help but to hear Jackie and the Captain speaking to each other, quite loudly actually. They seemed very excited. I love Jackie with all my heart, but sometimes she just can't hold her tongue. Once, she sold off all our plan to the Royal Navy and it ended up bloddy. Of course, is not the same situation, but still, I should get there fast.

I put on my classy shoes and exited the cabin, rushing downstairs. As I went down the stairs I slowed down in order to analyze the room. The music was loud, the room was filled with laughter and bottles were being lifted everywhere. I gently strolled down the stairs and heads slowly turned to watch me. There was a lot of whispering and a few shy whistles were heard here and there. I couldn't help but feel embareased and I quickly tried to find a distraction. I ran my eyes along the room and grabbed a rum bottle lifting it up while flashing a smile.

"TO PIRACY!" Excited screams and clincking bottles where heard from everywhere. Soon, other things were heard. "To money, to power, to women, to a good fuck" and so the saloon was filled with laughter and music again. I could help but to notice a tall man, speaking loudly at one ot the tables as a small crowd gather around to hear what he had to say.

"...and so he stared at me in the eye and said "I bet you could do that blindfolded" and so I did" A few gasps were heard as Julian finished his story and leaned back on his chair.

"Did you really walked on a lake of piranhas blindfolded?"

"And with your hands tied?"

"Sure did" He grabbed a cup and started chugging on it.

"Now that's impressive" He chocked on his drink as my voice reached his ears. He immediately put his drink down and sat up straight.

"Captain (Y/L/N)! How delightful to see you! Oh my, you are absolutely stunning tonight. Looking like a real mermaid" He tripped on his own words as he tried to talk to me. Maybe it was the drinks, or maybe something else.

"So, tell us more about your many dangerous adventures" I sat down opposite to him, slightly bending over the table and watching his gaze fall down to my cleavage "I like a little danger" I grinned.

"How funny, I, um, I can't think of any more stories right now. How odd" He cleared his throat "Well,well, I'm gonna get some fresh air, if you don't mind" And then he left, hands shaking and ears turning red.

"You know he's into you, right?" An old lady said to me, probably part of his crew.

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't seen him behave like that in a long time. And we've been on the same boat since he wore diapers"

"Since he- what?"

"Doesn't matter. Go after him, kid" She gave me a daring smile and patted my shoulder.

"How impolite, I haven't even asked your name" I extended my hand to greet her.

"Mazelinka. And I know exactly who you are. Now go, you're wasting time" She shooed me away from the table and I left the lower deck going outside and feeling a soft and salty breeze on my face.

I felt the bottom of the dress swerling around and it tickled my legs a little. I liked that feeling. I couldn't help but to do a little twirl. It was definitely a change for me to wear something like this and I was a nice change of scenario.

"I think I changed my mind. You look more like a fairy than a mermaid. And yet, your beauty exceeds all others"

Julian was leaned against the mast and only turned his head to look at me. His coat was off and his hat was far back on his head, exposing his whole face and the front part of his hair. He wore tight black pants with a white loose shirt tucked in it. What a sight.

"I can say the same for you, Devorak. You look absolutely stunning under the moonlight" I lifted my eyebrow at the sight of his red cheeks by using his own compliment against him.

For a moment, the only things that could be heard were the sound of the waves hitting the boat, my shoes hitting the wooden floor and our clothes dancing in the wind. I positioned myself in front of him and stared at his face. He tried his best avert his gaze from my face, but I grabbed his chin and made him stare at me.

"You're making me confused, you know. You flirt, you get me all worked up and then you just shy away. What do you want from me, Captain?" I stared deep into his eyes.

He started to mumble nonsense and I couldn't help but to chuckle. He was so shy and yet so bold. I remembered Mazelinka's words and did something on impulse. I moved my hand from his chin to the back of his neck and pulled his head towards me.

He was definently taken by surprised, since he didn't move for a few seconds. But eventually his bold side took over and he grabbed me by the waist, pressing your bodies together. I could feel the temperature rising and the kiss was getting more and more intense. His hands dared to explore more of my body and eventually ended up on my ass. I let out a little gasp that made him chuckle. He forced my body to the side, exchanging positions and pressing me against the mast.

"You have no idea how much I wanted this" He muttered as he slowly kissed your neck.

"I can make things even better" I pushed him, making Julian tumble backwards. My intention was for him to think he would fall but at the last second feel the starboard hit his back. But instead, his feet got tangled in some rope and his body changed the course towards an small opening on the boat. He was actually going to fall.

I rushed to him, the dress making things more complicated, and held a rope attached to the ship with a hand and his waist with the other. He looked absolutely terrified but after realizing he wasn't actually going to fall, he stared laughing and so did I. What really wasn't expected was a loud caw behind me. A crow's caw. I got startled and lost my balance, making me let go of the rope and making both of us fall in the direction of the sea.

It was a matter of instants before we could feel the cold water surrounding us. The dress made it harder to emerge, but I managed anyway. When I got my head out of the water, Julian was already there, almost out of breath, laughing.

"Wait, you're not...angry?" He looked at me, still laughing.

"Are you serious? Why would I be mad? I'm having a nice time with a beautiful girl and now things just got more interesting."

I started to laugh with him and swam closer to his body, embracing and kissing him again. Since we were out of breath, the kiss didn't last very long before we were almost passing out for lack of oxygen.

"We should swim back. We might catch a cold" He agreed with my statement and we both raced back to the docks, shivering, and then entering the ship again.

We were greeted by Jackie who had a very mischievous grin on her face and her hands laying on her hips.

"Having a good time, Captain?" She failed to hold back a giggle.

"Absolutely" As I passed through her I managed to whisper "Make sure we are not disturbed, please...until morning"

"Aye aye, Captain" And with that she left.

I guided him to the cabin and after getting in, I discreetly locked the door. Even though I had warned Jackie, that was always someone who had a complaint or some gossip and decided to tell me on first hand. Better safe than sorry.

"Soooo...what do we do now?" He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring at me like a wet dog.

"Well, I had some ideas in mind" I waltzed around the room, putting out the fire on most of the candles, leaving the room very poorly lit "First, we should undress"

I turned around and, even if the room was almost as dark as the night, I could sse that Julian was blushing. I laughed and grabbed a bucket from the floor, extending it to him.

"Our clothes are wet. Unless you wanna catch a cold, you should undress. Then I'll give you a blanket and maybe we can chat. How does that sound?"

"Marvelous" He grabbed the bucket and turned around. I grabbed another bucket myself and turned around as well.

As the clothes left my body I felt a cold breeze rushing through it and a chill ran down my spine. A soft moan left my mouth and I heard a grunt behind me. A tall mirror was close to me, in an angle that allowed me to see the naked body close to me. He had his clothes off, except for his trousers and his hand was laying on top of a bulge on it, gently stroking.

I couldn't help but bite my lip. It was wrong to watch him, but he looked so helpless and fragile. So needy. He let go of his erection and threw his head back, slightly turning it to the side. It was a matter of seconds before our eyes met in the mirror. I smirked at him and he did the same, with red painted on his cheeks.

I turned around and so did he. Our naked bodies, only covered by our undergarments facing each other, and for a moment, neither of us knew what to do. I stretched my arm and my hand cupped his cheek. His head leaned agaisnt my hand, like a puppy seeking for comfort. I ran my hands through his hand and gave it a small tug.

His lips parted in pleasure and I knew exactly what he liked. I pulled his head so that we could be on the same level and kissed him hard. Soon, his not-so-shy hands started to rub circles on my waist, gently pressing our bodies against one another's.

"Come. Lay with me" He just nodded eagerly and let me guide him to the massive bed covered in red silk sheet underneath the thick fur of the blankets.

I pushed him into bed and appreciated the sight. I've lost count of how many times he had blushed, but he still managed to keep the cherry color on his cheeks. His skin was pale and his chest was covered in hair. He was biting his lips so hard that I though they would start bleeding soon. I knew exactly what he wanted and deserved. And I was going to give it to him.

I left him waiting on the bed a little while longer and walked graciously to the nightstand. Opening the drawer, some items could be found inside. Rope, a piece of red cloth and an expensive massage oil I had acquired during one of my trips. Just what I needed.

"Now this is what you're going to do for me. You're gonna sit on the bed, rest your hands on the headboard, spread your legs, and be a very good boy"

He followed every one of the commands quickly, and soon, his wrists and ankles were tied to bed, his mouth had a made up gag and I was sitting on his lap, naked.

I reached for the oil and slowly opened the bottle, dripping its content on my hands. I placed the bottle on top of the nightstand and rubbed my oily hands over my body. I started at my chest, rubbing circles on my breast while staring intensely into the captain's eyes. They were begging me to touch him. But not yet.

I ran my hands lower and spreaded the oil on my things, each one on the sided of his body. Every now and then I brushed my fingers lightly against his sides just to tease him a little bit. Seeing him squirm under my touch was very pleasant, I had to admit that.

After the front part of my body was shining with oil, I decided to take some pity on the pirate and lossened up the cloth wrapped around his mouth, making it possible for him to talk properly.

His mouth was wet and red, a little swollen, probably from biting on his lip. Which was exactly what he did again, running his eyes over my body, also licking his lips on the process.

"Please let me touch you. I'm begging, please" He lunged forward, being restrained by the ropes, only inches away from my face. He had a desperate expression on his face.

"Not now, bunny. But you will have your time soon. Right now" I slided my hands down his chest "I wanna have some fun with you"

I leaned down and trapped his bottom lip between my teeth, pulling back a little, forcing him to come along. I placed my hand on his neck, and the other one gripped his underwear, pulling it down skillfully. He hissed as a cold breeze hit his region, making it stiffen and rise a little.

I used the little portion of oil left on my hand to rub him down, earning back a chocked moan from his throat. I stroked his shaft up and down in a painfully slow motion, making him buck his hips in response. I chuckled a little and my mouth traveled to his neck, giving it soft nibbles and slight butterfly kissed. I trailed my tongue along his chin, and a little bit lower, trying to find a soft spot.

When he groaned I knew I had found it. I bit him right on the spot and he moaned pornographycaly. His wrists kept trying to break free, which made me realize just how desperate he actually was. He just had to take it just a little while longer.

I braced myself on his shoulders and stared deeply into his eyes as I pushed him into me. We never broke eye contact, even as we started moaning, our mouths hanging open and I staterd to bounce on top of him. The only option he had to relief a little of his heat was to buckle his hips as hard as he could, slamming himself into me. I had to hold both my hands on his shoulders to keep myself from falling of his lap.

The pleasure was way to intense, and I just couldn't take his pleading eyes anymore. I leaned back to untie his ankles and he thrusted his hips firmly up, making me almost loose balance and scream of pleasure at the same time. After his legs were free, I started working on his wrists, which was hard given he hadn't stopped his work down there.

Not even after two seconds after he was free, he embraced my back lunging forward and sitting with his knees pressed against the bed, holding me close to him, like our bodies were one. He still thrusted into me, our means mixing together and we stared at each other's eyes. He kissed me deeply and laid me softly on the the bed. Finishing himself inside of me. I finished soon after and he detached himself from me and pulled me to his chest, caressing my back and planting a soft kiss on my forehead.

"You're beautiful. And I mean it. You're special. I want to be with you" I looked up at him, a soft and genuine smile forming on my lips.

"I want that too"

///

Six months later, your belly was starting to get heavier. You felt a soft pain in your stomach and let go of the ship's wheel, but a pair of firm hands came from behind you and used one hand to hold it and the other one laid on top of your baby belly.

"I told you many times already," He kissed my cheek "go back to bed. You need rest"

"Rest my ass. I'm still capable of running this ship. I'm no less of a captain just because I'm pregnant"

"I know it, darling, but the ships now has two captains for a reason. When one isn't available or not feeling well, the other one takes over"

I sighed. There was mo point on arguing with him.

"I know, bunny, I know. I'll go, okay?" I kissed his hand and strutted to the deck, encountering Mazelinka on the way.

"How's that baby mama going, huh?" She gave you that smile you loved.

"Actually, better than I expected. Some occasional pains, but it's part of the process, I see it now"

"Very well, that's good. Julian told me to keep an eye on you. Now off to bed" She pointed to the captain's cabin.

I groaned to her in a pleading way but she kept her posture. I walked grumpily and she followed right behind. I pulled the sheets and laid down, eventually trying to pull the sheets, but I couldn't reach it because of the belly. Mazelinka grabbed the sheets and covered me, giving me a kiss on the forehead.

"You're a strong woman. You'll be a strong mother too"

And with that, I fell asleep, content.

Author's note: I loved doing that one, and I loved to see that at least one person liked it and asked for more. Thank you for your support 💞

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #117

UPDATE 117: No Help for Anybody

Last time Francis had a feeling they had been transported into another world altogether, thanks to the Simurgh causing havoc and what not. It was shown she has the capacity of making portals, after all! Now let’s continue.

The two-or-maybe-three-if-Cody-is-Ballistic Travelers are exploring the neighborhood, trying to find help for those who need medical attention. There are monsters prowling around, and there’s a lot of noise out there that hint things are looking mighty bad. If they go in the wrong direction, I really don’t think they’ll be okay. They have no powers for the time being, after all.

During their walk, they hear something that sounded like a scream. Marissa immediately suggests they should go help whoever screamed, while Cody argued that’d be putting themselves in danger and therefore should ignore the scream. Francis, being the tie-breaker, decides to go help whoever screamed – not because he’s feeling particularly charitable, but because there’s a small chance whoever is in need of help has medical knowledge they can take advantage of. Good reason as any to go help someone, really!

Without waiting for Cody to argue this further, Francis starts running in direction of where the scream came from.

Turns out the screaming came from a fast food restaurant that has been boarded up. Inside there are a few people, trying to be safe from the monsters roaming outside, but they weren’t successful. One of the people is currently trapped by one of the monsters. Say...

The monsters included a man with a neck three times the usual length and a gnarled hump on his back that was plated in armor.   His arms split in two at the elbow, with one set of hands and one set of limbs that ended in built-in scythes.  He was perched on a table, cackling.  His jacket was clearly borrowed, ill-fitting around his hump, and he kept having to push the sleeves up so they wouldn’t cover his hands or weapons.

His partner held their victim, the ninth person in the room.  She was big, maybe seven feet tall, and heavy in a way that met some middle ground between being muscular and being fat.  Big boned might have been the most apt way to describe her, in a literal sense.  Her skin was thick, her features blunt: she had a porcine nose and cauliflower ears, her fingers were stubby and her lips so fat that they curled away from her comparatively tiny teeth.  She might have weighed four hundred pounds, and the way she was easily holding her victim in the air suggested she was strong enough to kill someone with one good punch.  She wore only a set of grays that looked like a prisoner uniform.  He could make out the first half of the word that was printed across her shoulders: GWER-.

Rounding out the group was a young woman.  Something was off about her, besides the obvious physical changes.  Thick black horizontal lines striped her body, crossing her eyes like a blindfold, extending from the corners of her mouth, lining her chin and tracing down her neck.  By the time they reached her fingers, her skin was more black than white. She wore the same prison grays, but had donned a jacket and boots.  Her blond hair was straight, her bangs cut severely across her forehead.

I’m sorry for copypasting everything, but I wanted to get the descriptions here. It’s weird...they’re not as...inhuman as I expected when it was mentioned they were monsters. Frankly, they don’t sound too dissimilar to how some parahumans look like, especially those that suffer strong mutations. I also notice they have some sort of clothing, hm...

Could it be these monsters were brought from another world with parahumans? That the Simurgh targeted a parahuman prison, and brought its inhabitants here? I mean, it’s not too farfetched. Parahumans can look real strange, like Crawler. Compared to him, these aren’t too bad.

It seems like one of these three isn’t entirely on board with the ‘tormenting civilians’ thing. Matryoshka, she’s called. The other two push a civilian towards her, expecting her to do something. Most likely use her power, with effects currently unknown to the Travelers and to me.

Looks like Matryoshka can...fold people into herself? Perhaps as a manner of storage, or to take something from them? Sure would fit her name. It’s temporary, though, at most a couple hours, and these three intend to use her powers to escape the quarantine. They’re as good as dead, there’s no way they’ll be captured and sent to the Birdcage. Given how they arrived into this world, they’re going to be executed.

Now that I think about it, the Travelers are real lucky they’re alive in the present How exactly did they manage to escape the quarantine? They don’t even have powers right now, they’re just civilians! Even harder to escape! Maybe they found a guard who sympathizes with them, someone who wasn’t aware they’re incredibly dangerous or didn’t have the willpower not to help them. Hm.

Since there’s a chance one of the people Matryoshka is about to fold may have medical knowledge to save Noelle and Luke, Francis jumps forth, going right ahead and stabbing one of the monsters-or-most-likely-parahumans. Good thing he carried a long weapon! Lets him keep his distance. He does rather well, for someone who would be pretty doomed in any other situation. The guy with the scythes is defeated, Matryoshka is targeted next.

No, Krouse made himself stop, took an account of what he was doing.  He was getting carried away.  He turned to run.

That reminds me, what is everyone else in this place doing? Are Mars and Cody hiding and letting Francis put himself in danger? I mean, that’s kind of the right thing to do – putting yourself in deadly danger is not smart – but I admit by now I expected someone to have intervened and tried to take Francis away.

The guy with the hump says Francis is brave and stupid – guilty as charged, really – and apparently decide to take him along? They’re talking a language I’m not sure if it’s invented or if it exists. Putting it into Google Translator gives me Gaelic, but it doesn’t give me a translation anyway. I guess that means it’s gibberish Mr. Wildbow made up?

Turns out Matroyshka does kind of absorb things from the people she folds! No indication if she decides what she takes or not. Either way, the monsters pin Francis down, and due to the stress of having the Simurgh’s weird-ass singing and having a scythe on his face, he kind of lets himself be taken by the song, and starts to reminisce.

“Noelle,” he mumbled.

“Francis?”

He winced.  “Call me Krouse.  Everyone but my mom does.”

“Krouse,” Noelle tried the word. “Okay.  You want something?”

“Just wanted to talk.  When we were marking each other’s papers in class, I got yours.  I just wanted to say I like the way you think.”

Sounds like this may be the first time Francis and Noelle met. So that may be how the Simurgh manipulates people’s emotions to make them lash out and react...she makes them remember specific moments. Alright!

This first meeting didn’t really go well. Noelle and Francis certainly didn’t hit off right away, she seems to have been kind of cold towards him when he compliments her way of thinking. Mars soon approaches, and she’s also cold. I mean, I can certainly imagine Francis is kind of grating because...he’s kind of a jerk, but part of me wonders if this memory was tampered somehow. Wouldn’t be out of the question when it’s about the Simurgh making remember stuff.

“So I know exactly what to watch out for with you,” Marissa said.  “At any given point in time, you’re pulling some nefarious prank, you’re manipulating others to get what you want, you’re making someone else look bad-”

Tampered or not, she’s saying the truth, haha!

This little flashback also shows how Francis got into the gaming group, she overhead them talking about it, and looks like Noelle got curious about if Francis played. Looks like Francis already knew Luke somewhat, too. Friends already? Regardless, the flashback is over when Mars screams, and not in the memory.

There’s Mars! Currently getting tossed around like a ragdoll. No sign of Cody. Maybe he died already. So, it seems it’s not Mars getting thrown around what made Francis fight again, it’s that they interrupted his reminiscing. Geez! And so he reacts like many people would like to react when someone wakes them up from a pleasant dream: displeased. And by displeased I mean holy crap, Francis, don’t stick your fingers into someone’s fresh wound.

He doesn’t hold himself back! He cuts the scythe guy’s throat. I’m blaming the Simurgh for this rather sudden burst of violence.

There’s Cody! Backed into a corner. Matryoshka doesn’t seem to be doing well, and the other monster is getting closer to Francis. Once he tells everyone to run and scatter, he runs too, and the monster keeps chasing him, without much trouble, until he has no option but to fight.

He stabbed at her hand with the knife, and felt a fierce agony tear through his own hand.

Blood welled out from his palm, warm as it ran down his arm to his elbow.  Krouse screamed.

No, he didn’t stab himself in his own hand while he was trying to fight back – although I’m sure that’d happen to a lot of people. What happens is that this woman’s parahuman power is to reflect back damage. Doesn’t make her impervious, it just reflects back. That’s going to be a pain to fight, no pun intended.

Or not! A pair of parahumans take care of this, and not lightly. They pretty much set her on fire, and it doesn’t seem like the damage reflection activated, or they had a way to counter it. Oh well. What matters is that that woman is now deceased, and Francis is in no danger anymore.

His immediate action is to ask for help for Noelle. He doesn’t get to ask for it before getting interrupted.

“That was reckless,” Myrddin said, speaking over Krouse.  “Attacking when we didn’t know the particulars of her power.”

I mean, when has Francis ever done something that’s a good idea against people with powers. Some things never change. One paragraph later, it turns out that was directed at the guy who set her on fire, not at Francis. Anyway! Brushing aside this embarrassing moment for me!

Francis keeps asking for help, they keep ignoring his words, instead notifying Dragon someone is in need of medical attention.

“Two hundred feet away, down your four o’clock, Armsmaster.”

Oh! This is Armsmaster! How neat. Here, let me amend what I said not long ago: “I mean, when has Armsmaster ever done something that’s a good idea at all”. Not thinking things through was his MO. He’s somewhat getting better at that now that Dragon is around.

“How are we for exposure?”

“You two are good for another seventeen minutes at the exposure you’re facing.  Twenty if we push it.  I can have a flight unit to you shortly.”

Aha, so it’s at least seventeen minutes before someone exposed to the Simurgh’s song is considered doomed and needs to be killed, I think. Well there’s absolutely no doubt to me by now Francis and pals have crossed the threshold already. It must have been around a couple hours. Funny how life can change that much in the matter of just a couple hours.

The fight against the Simurgh is going well, somehow, and they’re doubling down quarantine, most likely to ensure any parahumans brought by the portals don’t escape the perimeter. Dragon also notifies they’re taking some sort of measure, and the parahuman who is with Armsmaster – Myrddin, she’s called. I think I have heard that name before? – doesn’t like that measure, even asking Dragon to argue back. Dragon, in all her AI glory, states she’s just following orders.

I was about to ask if Armsmaster and Myrddin just ignoring Francis standing right there to a side, but then I reread and noticed Francis seems to have been turned into some kind of ghost. Trying to keep him hidden from the heroes, hm! Not that it’s a bad thing, Francis may be left for dead for all the exposure to the Simurgh. No wonder he wasn’t being listened to, he’s like...transparent now.

Among the rubble of the stuff that fell into this world, there’s a building that seems to have been part of a laboratory. Armsmaster wants to take a look and deduce from where all this came from, but Myrddin insists they have to get done with their task and get out. Minimize exposure, you know! And since the consequence of not doing that is, you know, death, I agree with her.

“I get bad interactions if I transition something in of one of my dimensions and back, or if I take things out of one dimension and put them into another.  It doesn’t compartmentalize into the dimension properly if it’s been elsewhere too recently.  Whether these people and objects came from somewhere halfway across the globe or some pocket dimension, I don’t think we want to test our luck and risk something disastrous.”

Krouse startled at that.  Is that what happened to me?  Some bad interaction of interdimensional crap?

Pretty unlikely. If Myrddin had used her power on him, I think she’d have said something, or Armsmaster would have noticed. Unless Francis means he being in this world in the first place, in which case, yeah, that’s what happened to you. Blame the flying Endbringer over there.

Is Armsmaster suggesting to use white phosphor for something? Because that’s not a good omen. My immediate thought is that he’s suggesting they use white phosphor to obliterate the perimeter. Needless to say, everyone and everything inside is toast if they do. I once read a book that had white phosphorus used, and the description of the effect was anything but pleasant. Better get out while you can, Francis, seems to me time’s running out.

Once Myrddin and Armsmaster leave, Francis is once again taken by his memories, this time of a less happy moment, when Noelle is unhappy and he doesn’t know why. She’s even saying the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ routine. They’re a pair, so this can’t be a breakup – a successful one, at least. The wording does hint she wants to get away from him, and that he has been a great person.

When she said she herself was why she wanted to break up, she meant it. Francis doesn’t have the slightest idea what she’s talking about, but judging by...

“Someone said, a little while ago,” Noelle spoke without looking at Krouse, “That I can’t really forge a good relationship with others until I have a good relationship with myself.”

...this, there’s something about herself she doesn’t like. Must be something rather big, if she can’t bring herself to have good relationship with others because of it.

Francis is being nice for once and is trying his best to be encouraging, telling her that she’s fantastic, but she insists they shouldn’t date. That opinion doesn’t change when Francis adds Noelle’s been happier ever since they started dating, and it’s not a platitude, Mars has said that too. But if Noelle says they should break up because this is bad for her, then he’s willing to accept it. Seriously, this has got to be the nicest Francis has been towards anyone in this entire story.

He even offers to leave the gaming team. She doesn’t want him to, and even tells him to forget she even mentioned this, conveniently leaving her thoughts a mystery to the reader. What could it be she’s feeling about herself that makes her dislike herself so much?

The memory ends, and Francis finds himself already rooting into the fallen laboratory, deciding to look around to see if there’s anything that could be of help, like a first aid kit. Well that’s going to be useful for Luke, but Noelle’s going to need something far better than that, if he finds any.

His eyes settled on a metal briefcase beneath the desk, within a few feet of the dead man’s hand.

His fingers crossed for a portable case of medical supplies, he set it down on the desk and popped it open.  Disappointment overwhelmed him.

Six metal canisters recessed in black foam with slots cut out to hold them, paperwork was set in a flap in the lid.

He swore.

…newly purchased superpowers…

...

...

...

...well seeing how Alexandria got better from a terminal disease after getting superpowers, I guess that counts as something far better. She got a much worse deal than Alexandria did, though. Everything in Worm has been a continuous source of grief for her. She’s not happy with Francis because of how she feels about herself, she gets concussions and internal bleeding, and when she gets to have some sort of superpower, she gets one that’s so bad she has to be locked in a vault out of fear she’s going to destroy everything. Worm treats Noelle rather cruelly.

Also, I absolutely love how Armsmaster almost may have been able to stop the creation of an entire villain team if he had been allowed to check the laboratory. Thanks a lot, Myrddin, you are indirectly responsible for the creation of like five new villains. Stellar work. At least Armsmaster only created one!

Francis confirms these are certainly superpowers in a vial – courtesy of Cauldron, no doubt. Does Cauldron know the Travelers gained their powers from their serums? I imagine they may know, surely they must keep a record of what powers get sold.

Taking the metal case with him, Francis decides to return back to the rest of his friends and also Cody, unwittingly kickstarting some rather unfun days for them all except whoever won’t be part of the Travelers. Fun how a series of coincidences led to that. Seriously, so much happened because Francis was in the right place at the right time.

I’m still unsure what happened with Francis turning all intangible and invisible earlier, though. Was it really Myrddin, accidentally doing that? Or was it someone else? I don’t have it clear at all, I admit. If someone can send me a message about it I’d be real grateful.

Ending the update here!

Next time: next update

[elle-christine]

Lovey Dovey Questions:

Reverting to my happy little Tumblr days; blogging away with my 16 year-old wistful intentions but now I’m married and all kinds of in lurrrrv.  How did you meet? 
My roommate and I got invited to a Young Adults Potluck/game night at our Church. We only knew one person there, but before we got there my roommate kept telling me “you’re about to meet your husband. I can’t believe we’re going to go to this tonight and you’re going to meet your husband.” But the majority of the night we sat in the corner with our one friend a bunch of girls and were planning on leaving to go to get food. I thought “I’m not meeting my husband here...”. But then we played a group game and I noticed him from across the room, and he noticed me. And the rest is history. How did he ask you to be his?

 We met up at the union on campus to talk, we had just told each other the night before that we had feelings for one another. We walked to the parking garage together and he kept making comments about “us”. So I asked him in the garage--what exactly is “us”. And then we made a logical and rational decision to date. Your first memory with them: Going to a restaurant after the game night, thinking he was cute but so serious and probably too cool for me. And thinking that he would make a good husband to someone someday. Why is your relationship different from others you have had? I was ready, he was ready. We had both taken a few years off from dating to determine what we should be looking for in a partner and to grow as humans on our own. We have a strong dedication to communication and intentionality. Ten things you like about them.
 1. His passionate pursuit of Jesus. 2. His intentional pursuit of our marriage. 3. His ability to be goofy, relaxed, and silly with me but be mature, serious, and polished in public. 4. He’s a great listener and a strong conversationalist. 5. His depth and intelligence. 6. His love of black coffee, the sun and water, minimalism, sustainability. 7. His gentleness and emotional availability. 8. His tender heart and natural kindness. 9. His respect for me. 10. His ability to lead well. How often do you see each other?
 In the morning when we wake up and at night before we go to bed. No matter how crazy and busy our lives get, getting to do that is such a blessing. 

1: Do you have a crush at the moment? on someone who can’t ghost me; 10/10 recommend.  2: Have you ever been deeply in love? currently a deeply in love lady. 3: Longest relationship you’ve ever been in? 23 months tomorrow.  4: Have you ever changed for someone? Ironically, I changed more for the ones I didn’t actually date; tried to change to get them and clearly it didn’t work. 0/10 not recommended.  5: How is your relationship with your ex? One is friendly and two are non-existent.  6: Have you ever been cheated on? I don’t have proof but I believe there was a little somethin somethin going down behind my back. 7: Have you ever cheated? No. 8: Would you date someone who’s well known for cheating? no longer an option, but I think I would really struggle with that.  9: What’s the most important parts of a relationship? An ability to communicate, to be partners and to balance one another out, to complement each others strengths and weaknesses.   10: Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings? I like being married. 11: When you are dating someone do you believe in going on “breaks”? Nahhhhhhhh 13: What’s one thing you regret saying/doing in a previous relationship? Being in relationships before I was confident/comfortable with who I was, and having relationships that were not Christ-centered and wondering why they weren’t working. 14: What age do you think is appropriate for kids to start having sex? I think the fact that this says “kids” is clear that the answer is never.  15: Do you believe in the phrase “age is just a number”? In some sense, yes. But cultural/generational things will play an impact.  16: Do you believe in “love at first sight”? No; I think love is a choice and something to work at.  17: Do you believe it’s possible to fall in love on the internet? In some situations, sure; however again I think it takes communication and work.  18: What do you consider a deal breaker? Not knowing and following the Lord. Unequally yoked is a thing.  19: How do you know it’s time to end a relationship? If there are clear signs that a future is not going to happen, it’s likely that it will be more painful later on.  20: Are you currently in a relationship? Indeed.  21: Do you think people who have dated can stay friends? Honestly, no. I think you can remain cordial and friendly, but I don’t think it’s healthy or fair to continue a close friendship.  22: Do you think people should date their friends? Yes; I think friendship can have a solid foundation for a strong relationship.  23: How many relationships have you had? truthfully one that matters.  24: Do you think love can last forever? yes 25: Do you believe love can conquer all things? love and the Lord.  26: Would you break up with someone your parents didn’t approve of? It would depend on the basis for disapproval. If there were genuine concern for safety, red flags I wasn’t seeing, if I was in danger, than yes. Thankfully, my mom more than approves of Alex.  27: If you could go back in time and give yourself one piece of advice about dating what would it be? Wait wait wait; be patient and focus more on yourself, guard your heart more.  28: Do you think long distance relationships can work? They can, but they take a LOT of intentionality and work; and need to have a resolution in sight.  29: What do you notice first about another person? Probably height, and overall demeanor (calm, loud, etc.) 30: Are you straight, bi, gay or pansexual? straight. 31: Would it bother you if your partner suffered from any mental illness? no, but I am thankful that he doesn’t because I do, and I appreciate the balance.  32: Have you ever been in an abusive relationship? in some sense.  33: Do you want to get married one day? I am! 34: What do you think about getting your partner’s name tattooed? That’s a no from me dawg. 35: Could you be in a relationship without sex? I’m thankful that I’m not, but till death do us part and if sex was no longer an option for us--we would be just fine.  36: Are you still a virgin? I am a married lady.  37: What’s more important: Looks or personality? looks will not last forever. Personality and a desire to be a good steward of your body.  38: Do you enjoy love films? I’m not a big movie person tbh  39: Have you ever given anyone/received roses? Alex occasionally surprises me with them which is rad.  40: Have you ever had a valentine? Only one that counts! 41: What’s your imagination of a “perfect date”? Going to the beach, eating sushi, watching the sunset (or rise; but switch the sushi for coffee), worship music and reading together.  43: What’s more important: Your partner or your friends? Husband is first.  44: Would you consider yourself “romantic”? I like ironic romance; cute gestures that purposely meant to be cheesy.  45: Could you imagine to date one of your current friends? I am married to my favorite friend. 46: Have you ever been “friendzoned”? honestly...no.  48: What’s your favorite love song? oh gosh, want me to make a whole damn list About Him.

Name? Alex Age? 31 When did you two begin dating? March 2018

What do you think of him? He’s okay...I guess. What does he think of you? Probably that I’m weird and kind of smell. Who asked who out first? I believe he did after some strong hinting from me. Did you like him before he asked you? I was intrigued but also guarded.  How old were you two? 25 and 29 What did you think of it at first? After about 5 minutes I was concerned he was “like, actually weird”. But by the end of the night I felt like I had just met a future best friend. Has it been a good relationship so far? Indeed.  Cutest thing he’s ever done? Goodness; surprising me with the cheesiest gift set-up when I woke up on Valentines Day morning. Bringing me a rose with the medicine he picked up for me when I was sick. Making me a handmade birthday card. Setting up a table with our pictures and couples Christmas gifts for when I came back from the holidays.  Do you have a “song”? “God Be” By Chris Renzema What was your most memorable experience? Getting married. And all that went into that decision, proces, etc.  When is your actual anniversary? Well...3/24/18, but also 7/14/19, and 11/12/19, and maybe 8/8/2020.  Do you guys tell each other everything? every.thing. Probably too much. Marriage.  What’s your favorite thing to do together? read and pray. drink coffee. go for hikes/walks. Find tiny cabins in the middle of nowhere and hole up for a weekend doing married people things.  Most fun date you two have been on? This past valentines we ate too much sushi and had a movie night with wine and donuts. Last summer we went to a leadership conference, the zoo, walked around Royal Oak, and got dinner with my family. Or our mini-honeymoon; the beach, staying at a B&B, sushi for dinner, wine and exchanging vows alone. How did ya’ll first kiss? We had planned on not kissing for a month but we were eating hummus and watching Miracle and decided to make it happen.  What does he call you? We’re pretty exclusively on “babe” Has anyone ever seriously proposed to you? And it worked.