#also are the lines cracks here? or just part of their bug features?

[pedgito]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader — Series Masterlist (part ii)

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | The temptation with Joel is unavoidable, one consequential choice leading to several, but with time, you find that healing is easier with someone just as broken as you.

author's note | I DID NOT FORGET THEM I SWEAR. i know the first part was posted in july and i abandoned my baby i'm horrible. BUT, the writing bug is back in full force and this chapter was already halfway done so PLEASE ENJOY. i missed these two dearly.

content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE - this is very loosely stepcest, so if that's not your thing, ignore. that's the only warning i'm giving on that, additional warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel, age gap (20/late 40s), religious trauma, parental trauma, no one's making good choices here, lowkey religion kink?? if you get it, you get. fingering, unprotected piv sex, semi-public sex, mentions of deconstruction, alcohol tw, this is packed with so much stuff i'm sorry

word count —11k

PART ONE, PART THREE (tbd)

The tweed sweater is more grating than the sound of your mother’s voice as you approach the doorstep of the Miller’s home. It’s fucking itchy, scratching at your neck in desperation to strip yourself of your more modest church clothes the moment you crosses the threshold. Your mother seems to notice your fidgeting, swatting at your hand with a look of unmistaken warning.

Cut it out. 

Your hand drops to your side, fingers curling into your palm as they dig into the skin. The pain squeezes at your vocal cords, keeping you quiet. Tommy always looks slightly ridiculous when you step out for church on Sundays—starched jeans and perfectly ironed plaid button up to match, paired with an egregious belt buckle and cowboy boots. 

The thing was though, he fit in perfectly. And you couldn’t hate Tommy, it was nearly impossible.

Once inside, you’re already beelining for the attic with your shoes slipped off by the door and ready to strip down the layers of clothes to quell the sticky heat that was lingering on your skin. But, there’s a creak to your left and a voice you hadn’t heard since the night before, under…more nefarious pretenses. But, he didn’t know that. You shouldn’t either.

Your eyes can’t meet his own as he rounds the corner, damp hair dripping droplets of water onto his clothed shoulders. He doesn’t speak to you, but he does look you over. There’s a smugness in his expression, amusement at your outfit like he knows. A perfect, modest length appropriate dress with that ugly fucking sweater your mom insisted on you wearing. You hate it, it was smeared all over your face, lips pulled into a tight line as your mother began barraging both of the brothers at once.

“She’ll come with,” You attention focuses back on the conversation halfway through, sneaking a small peak at Joel’s tired features, scratching at his beard with his other hand settled against his hips, so desperately wanting to escape the conversation, “I don’t need her being a nuisance while Joel’s trying to sleep.”

“She lives here,” Tommy points out, “I’m sure she can keep quiet. Do you wanna tag along?”

“No,” you respond with evident distaste, but there was also the creeping worry of being alone with Joel again, unsure how to approach your unfavorable behavior with him, “I’d really rather not, if that’s okay.”

Tommy offers a shrug to your mother, reminiscent of a told you so, before he’s cracking a joke at Joel’s expense, who still hadn’t spoken a word.

“Keep this loner some company anyways, he needs it,” Tommy jests.

“Well, we’ll be out until the evening,” your mother adds, almost like it was a bad thing which wasn’t nearly the case, in fact—it was a heavy weight off your chest, “so call if you need anything and sweetheart, mind your manners.”

“She’ll be alright,” Joel interjects suddenly, “ain’t never caused any problems with me.”

Your mother nods despite her inclination to make a comment or prove a point and after a tense goodbye and a hug that was far too tight, she’s dragging Tommy out the front door again and it shuts with a deafening click as Joel still remained in his previous position, eying the floor for a time before his eye meet your own as yank at the buttons of your sweater and shrug it off your shoulders.

The events over the past few weeks were clawing at your gut, that nervous and fluttering feeling driving you to silence—girl, always testin’ me—it was a constant echo in your head. That, flurried with his grunts and the sight of his hand gripping his cock. And your teasing words were no better, inviting him in and welcoming the temptation.

You had to cut the cord—this wasn’t you. It was wrong, sinful, the shame sitting on your tongue and bitter to swallow. It didn’t matter that it didn’t feel wrong, factually, it was. You would be shamed, frowned upon, rejected by your own mother if she even caught a whiff of your advances toward Joel. But, he’d lied for you when he didn’t have to and that was more confusing than it needed to be. 

Joel clears his throat, “I’m gonna head to bed, worked a fifteen hour shift and I’m barely standin’ right now,” Your gaze flicks up as you kneel on the couch, settling into the cushion but leaning yourself slightly over the arm, “you gonna be alright?”

You nod silently and watch as he returns the motion and turns on his heels, the floorboards creaking under the weight and there was no chance like now—say it, just apologize.

“Joel,” you say louder than needed, but it does the trick, “I—you lied for me to my mother, you didn’t have to and I’m…sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I—”

There’s a flickering of guilt across his own face that you’re familiar with, knowing he’s dreamt of you in the exact ways you’ve suggested and while he doesn’t audibly admit it, his thoughts almost project, eyes racking over your chest for a beat to long as they press together under your thin top and peek through the deep cut in your shirt.

“No harm done,” He lies, his eyes noticeable flicking back up toward your gaze and you don’t react, neither does he, “no sense in pissing her off more than she already is with you all the time, right?”

“Right,” you mumble dejectedly, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you settle into the cushion more permanently, “just…thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies assuredly, knowing he’d done you a favor with the expectation that it might absolve him of some of his own guilt about the entire situation—but just as Joel was being disingenuous, he suspected you were too.

Save your own ass and all that.

It didn’t matter and Joel knew it was better to move beyond it entirely.

Except his dreams are invaded with the sight of your tits, pert and perfect as he squeezed them under his grip and he swears he can feel the warmth of your skin, your smell, but the deep slumber quickly pulls him under.

-

There’s only so much to occupy your day, having made a few snacks for yourself and wandered aimlessly around Joel’s home, even managed a short nap amongst his soft snoring from his cracked bedroom door, occasionally looking around the corner or over your shoulder to find him sleeping deeply. By high noon, you’re restless. It was hot. Wicked summer heat. You decided to change into your swimsuit and head outside, grabbing a towel and a bottle of newly purchased sunscreen.

There’s a few reclining lawn chairs on Joel’s back deck luckily, snagging one as you drag it toward the lawn and into the sun, squinting at the blistering UV as you bring your sunglasses down your face and allow them to make home on the bridge of your nose. The neighbors have their sprinklers going, giving their gardens a much needed drink during the non-stop dry spell that Austin seemed to be under, the spray hits your skin gingerly as you settle into a good spot and take a seat, spreading the sunscreen out sparingly over your arms and legs, resigned to the fact that you wouldn’t be able to reach your back appropriately, but that didn’t matter. 

You untied the back of your top, both at your spine and neck and reclined the chair out completely before resting on your stomach, eyes closed to the quiet hum of afternoon summer and kids playing a few houses down, the soft buzz of dragonflies and bees amongst the foliage.

It was the simple luxuries you enjoyed that weren’t possible with your mother hovering around you, but that was why you had so much appreciation for Tommy, keeping her busy beyond her means and knowing that she was happier when occupied with other things—like him, or the possibilities and expectations that would come with their new life when they did find a place together.

You knew you weren’t going with them, but that was another mountain to climb trying to explain to your mother, knowing it wouldn’t bode well and would end in an all out brawl if you dropped it on her now—in due time, you think. 

Your tendency to fastrack through missed opportunities and experiences were your own downfall, but the newfound freedom was exhilarating, breathing in deep as you closed your eyes and relaxed, several minutes passing before you heard a creak at the backdoor. 

But even then, you don’t move.

You know it’s Joel when the grill lid whines in protest, utensils clinging behind you. 

He doesn’t say a word and forces himself to keep his eyes on the dirtied grill as he scrubs it down ignoring your occasional fidgeting and the soft creaks of the reclined chair, his eyes catching the soft skin of your back, the curve of your breasts as press out at your side, squeezed against the towel you were laying on and the strings dangling toward the grass that Joel had neglected for the past couple weeks and he’s only realizing his wandering eyes when his hand slips through the slit in the grill and drops the sponge into the ash, cursing loudly to himself.

“Was I being too loud?”

Joel tosses the sponge to the side and opens the tray to dump out the remaining remnants of  ash from their last cookout, walking toward the dumpster near the gate leading to the front yard, no further than a few yards from you as he mumbles a quiet, “No. Wasn’t you.”

Weird. Your brow furrows for a moment before you reaching for the bottle of sunscreen, taking advantage of the extra pair of hands as you offer the bottle to his empty ones, the plastic cap hitting his stomach as you press it against him, hands pressed tight over your swim top to keep your breasts covered, despite how much the material failed to hide.

“Just my back,” you explain, “I can’t reach it. Well—I can, but I’m definitely missing some spots.”

Joel’s fingers curl around the bottle but he doesn’t pull and your fingers haven’t left either, grazing against the denim at his waist and you sigh in subtle frustration. 

“Joel, it isn’t a trick,” you promise, “besides, with your hands it’ll take like, two seconds.”

He makes a face at that, halfway between amused and mortified. You shove the bottle deeper against his stomach, insistent as you raise your eyebrows.

“Oh, come on,” You beg, “It’s sunscreen, get over it.”

There it was. The snark you couldn’t hide, like second nature with him. He snatches the bottle with his tongue slipping under his top lip as he snaked it over his teeth and popped the cap with his thumb, flashing a content smile in his direction as you settle back on your stomach, pushing down at the strings of your bottoms slightly to offer the full expanse of your back.

Joel, poor Joel, swallows around the lump in his throat and tries indefinitely to ignore the everlasting bulge that grew in your presence, a side effect of inappropriate thoughts and your sharp tongue. He’s pathetic and he knows it. 

He kneels down between your split legs, one knee on the cheap plastic and his other foot planted firmly in the grass as he hovers. It was as close as he could allow himself, a few inches forward and he would have his thigh pressed against your center, the swell of your pussy grinding against his jeans and he wouldn’t be able to resist, pulling at the loose ties and diving into the sweet divine. 

You clear your throat, turning your cheek to rest against the back of your palm as you wait with the cold tip of your cross necklace snug between your lips, a self-satisfied smile growing on your face as the warmth of his hand contrasts the cool sunscreen, a broad stripe up your back from tailbone to neck as his fingers fold over your shoulder and drag against the chain before he’s tossing the bottle into the grass to make use of his other hand, spreading the sunscreen out evenly on the full expanse of your back.

A pseudo massage masked in the way his thumbs rub along the center of your skin, fingers rubbing in the sunscreen along your side, just along the curve of your hips before they’re back up at your shoulders and the muscle is being squeezed gently under his grip.

“You’re tense, kid,” Joel notes, pulling away to wipe his cream covered hands on the towel, catching your gaze.

“With a mother like mine, wouldn’t you be?”

Joel pauses briefly, a silent acknowledgment as he stands, vehemently ignoring the way your legs slip together and your ass pushes up into the air slightly as you reposition yourself.

He grimaces at how sticky his hands feel still, reaching for the spout on the siding and gripping the hose in his hand as the water pours out, hot for a moment as it slips out before it rushes out ice cool, wetting his hands generously.

“Can’t stand getting a little messy, can you?” You tease when you hear the water run behind you, lifting up on your forearm to peer at the older man, his face still frozen in a tight grimace but his eyes briefly turning up toward you.

What a little shit. 

His thumb slides over the opening on the hose and transforms the flow into a forceful spray as he lifts stream and at the chair you were lounging in, forcing you up in a matter of seconds while Joel rendered you drenched, top forgotten as you slip your arm over your breasts in attempt to retain some decency.

The cause of action only dawns on Joel in the aftermath, watching you sopping wet as you stomp toward him and attempt to yank the hose from his grip, the option for turning the spout off forgotten—it couldn’t be that simple.

Joel quickly extends the main end of the hose from your grip with a tug of a smirk and you huff, hard through your nose as you twist and press your back against his chest as you wrestle for his arm, in a wrestle for the hose his arm finds home against your chest and you gradually fall to your knees, tackled by Joel in a manner that is surprisingly gentle despite your frustration.

But, somehow you end up chest to chest and none of the effort is worth it, even as you turn the house on him and the water soaks his clothes and your chest, hose slapping into the grass as you toss it aside, breath catching as your heart raced from the exertion.

Joel makes the mistake of shifting to move, his knees hiking behind the curve of your ass and pushing his clothed cock against your core, only separated by a couple layers of clothes, his denim against your think bikini tied lazily at your waist and his eyes drag down by pure coincidence as he tries to find his grip against the grassy surface.

There it was—his eyes on your chest, your eyes on him, and his cock hard against your cunt in an unignorable way. 

Joel quickly scrambles to his feet with a frustrated clear of his throat, ignoring you like a quick spreading plaque as he left his tasks behind to disappear as quickly as he had resurfaced and you reach blindly for your top, draping it over your chest hastily as you tried and failed to piece together what the hell had just transpired. 

It was like a shot of adrenaline in your bloodstream as you sat up, the world spinning in a way that made you woozy—you turned toward the back door, slightly ajar from the force Joel used to shut it, slamming against the frame before it popped back open.

He could deny you all he wanted, but his body couldn’t lie—wondering if he was running off to finish himself like he had the night before, almost daring to chase after him.

But instead, you hide.

Decisive and calculated, you’d wait him out.

Like meek prey, he’d seek you out if the hunger struck. 

—

After a swift shower you barricade yourself upstairs, the murmuring voices below lulling you to sleep as you skip dinner—you couldn’t speak to Joel, wouldn’t. 

He lies for you, despite knowing that your avoidance of dinner was entirely his own fault.

Sort of.

It was a double-edged sword, both parties responsible.

 But, Joel feels the guilt faster, easier, and he drowns it away in a six pack of beers Tommy brings home as he and his brother, and his soon-to-be sister in law enjoyed a quiet dinner, the occasional complaint slipping from your mother’s lips as she ate.

“She wasn’t feeling too good,” Joel fibs, wiping at his mouth with a napkin, crumbling the flimsy material in his fist, “I can bring her a plate up later, after I clean up—”

“Oh, please,” She holds her hand up to interrupt, politely refusing, “we’ll clean up, won’t we?”

Tommy squints, eyeing the table full of dirtied dishes but nods regardless. 

Always the yes man. Joel smirks, a flippant chuckle under his breath.

Joel tips back the final bottle of beer and swallows it down, having learned to manage his alcohol well after years of casual drinking that had slowly morphed into a crutch. He gets the buzz, the warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest but otherwise it was undetectable, aside from the hasty decision making to find a reason to bother you after the wrestling match that afternoon. 

He quietly piled the food onto a plate, working around the kitchen and squeezing past the other two bodies before he’s yanking at the cord to the attic stairs, your body lunging up at the sound, nearly jumping out of your own skin as the light peeks through and the hard, heavy footsteps follow.

Joel hears the both of them, Tommy and your mother, as they finish up in the kitchen and trail off into their own respective room in the house, pulling at the handle with his unoccupied hand to seal out the creeping light from downstairs. He slides the plate of food on the dresser shoved against the nearest wall before his head is turning toward you, watching as you rubbed at your eyes, faking the grogginess from a deep sleep you never managed to fall into, running both hands through the front of your hair before they’re flattening out against your duvet, wondering which one of you should speak first.

Both hands shoved into his front pockets, he turns to you fully. He’s changed from earlier, denim traded for a soft cloth; sweats, paired with his usual dark washed shirt.

Relaxed. He looks…relaxed. His eyes are undeniably softer, too. His lips rubbing together tight before his tongue slips out to wet them and he’s still standing, waiting—for what, you’re not sure.

“I’ll eat it later,” you appease his lingering presence, taken aback as the words seem to bring him back to life, socked feet soft against the wood floors but the intent is heavy and intimidating, “I will, I promise—“

You weren’t lying, you would. 

But, then the bed creaks as he takes a seat and your legs widen to make room for him, the blanket slipping down your thighs and revealing bare legs under a long t-shirt, having changed out of your damp clothes too. 

Closer, you can see the flush in his chest. Cheeks warm and hot, you’re sure if you touched him it would be confirmed. Drunk? It didn’t seem likely, but he had definitely been drinking, a deep but quiet sigh coming from his chest before he spoke.

“Don’t apologize,” you began before he could get the words out, “god—don’t, just…”

“I was gonna ask if you’re feelin’ alright,” Joel begins, turning toward you hesitantly, a fist curled and stamped into the mattress, watching the muscle of his bicep and forearm flex with the action, core clenching at the sight of it.

You nod lazily, “How was dinner?”

He knows you’re not asking about the food.

“Typical,” He responds lightly, “your mom loves carryin’ the conversation, doesn’t she?”

“She just enjoys the sound of her own voice.”

Joel chuckles quietly, hand unfurling and his fingers grazing against your knee. For a moment, you think it could be an accident, but as you find a surge of confidence and drag your fingers over his own, pulling his hand up to your face curiously, making a show to smell his hand with a light quip thrown his way.

“Got all the sunscreen off finally,” You joke and the stretched out glimpse of you flashes through Joel’s mind, his fingers pulling at tied strings, the nylon falling against thick blades of grass, “did you enjoy your shower?”

Joel quirks his brow, curious.

Right, he didn’t know. A momentary lapse of judgment letting the words slip.

“You know, was it…peaceful? Nice?” 

No additional expletives groaned out under the steady stream, fist wrapped around his cock? Selfishly your eyes wandered toward the no longer tented material, having caught quite the eyeful earlier—and felt it just the same.

His hand slowly drops to the bedsheet, thumb grazing the cream material while the rest of his fingers curl over your knee, your own hand placed atop it, an unspoken but welcomed touch.

He was losing his mind, surely.

He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have sat down. 

But, Joel lied for you and that was the first mistake.

“I lied for you, again,” He comes clean, emphasis on his final word as his eye flicks up despite his downturned gaze, watching your thumb rub into the spot between his own and pointer finger, “makin’ habit of it, it seems.”

A soft breath mingles between the space, tight and tense, too intimidated to confront him head on now, shaking your head at his words, “You were the one who said my secret was safe, remember?”

His large hand flexes around yours as he presses the back of your hand into the sheets, held prison under his grip, “You know I never meant it like that—“

“Didn’t you?” You counter, turning your eyes up toward him cautiously, daring him to confess.

Our secret, alright?

It was the gateway—one small lie unfolding into many and soon it would be like breathing, second nature. 

“Why are you still here?” There’s a softness in your tone that beckons a confession, but Joel’s hard-headed. 

So, he retaliates.

“Why haven’t you asked me to leave?” His eyebrows raise, a subtle smile pulling at his lips that was brought up by the inhibitions of alcohol, mostly Joel but there was something lingering.

The words float through your head, climb up your throat, but you can’t force them to leave your mouth, eyes softening under his gaze as a warm, careful hand caresses up your thigh, fingertips grazing your clothed cunt, the wet heat undeniable as it seeps through your underwear.

You can smell the beer on his breath but it doesn’t stop your hand from clawing up his chest and behind his neck, allowing him to pull your leg over his lap, spread wide on your bed as he fit between them, “You’ve been drinking,” it was obvious, but Joel shakes his head, tongue licking at his bottom lip as his left hand squeezes at your calf, “haven’t you?”

“That bother you?” He wonders—he’s mostly unaffected, you can tell. The creeping flush to his face a mix of the alcohol and you, he’s just as in his right mind as you, the inside of his palm reaching further to cup your cunt, rubbing gently with the heel of his palm.

A breathy sigh and a head shake in return as your legs spread wider, hips canting into his touch as your hand falls to your side, exposing your clothed chest to him, breasts peeking through the sheer fabric of your top while your other hand grips Joel’s neck harder, blunt fingernails digging into the skin.

“What are you doing?” You ask carefully, not wanting to startle him. 

It doesn’t even seem to phase him, though. His hand moves forward slightly to push your shirt up your stomach before it slipped beyond the fabric of your underwear and against your bare skin, two fingers sliding between your folds to press into your sticky slick.

“Giving you what you want,” Like it was obvious; the constant taunting, ill-mannered behavior, his own resolve finally breaking and the guilt he was feeling disappearing in an instant now that he has you like this, a clandestine sight, “—s’what you wanted, right?”

You nod, a subtle jerk of your head.

At the notion, his hands are in two different directions—one hand is tracing the chain that wore like armor, a dainty necklace your mother had gifted you when you were young that was the only significance you had to show for with her, your undying faith. He slips the necklace around and between your shoulder blades, out of sight. His other hand slips between your thighs until they’re finding home against your cunt. Absent fingers drifting deeper between your shoulder blades, delicate touches tracing along your spine over soft skin until he’s back at the nape of your neck and squeezing, determined fingers rubbing slowly at your sensitive clit, a stuttered and quiet gasp falling from your lips.

He’s not the first man to touch you like this, but he was skilled. No fumbling hands and hesitant touches, there was surety in his movements and his gaze that didn’t shy from yours in embarrassment or lack of care.

Joel Miller was in the mood to watch you fall apart for his own entertainment.

“Shh,” He reminds you, a soft command, “don’t need them gettin’ curious.”

You shake your head in agreement, a plethora of sins being committed in the act of one greedy and selfish desire, “Mo—More,” You plead, feeling his fingers slide down the center of your cunt before they’re breaching your tight hole and pressing inside. Joel grunts as you pull at his short curls, his tongue resting wanting over his bottom teeth, yearning for a taste.

“Take it off,” He demands, “wanna see those pretty tits, darlin’.”

Your skin prickles with anticipation, separating from him briefly to pull your shirt over your head and Joel, in a moment of blind lust, takes the advantage of you on your back to yank your panties down your ankles and balling them up, thrown haphazardly near the top of your bed as he settles on his knees between your outstretched legs—

God, he’s going to hell.

And you want to kiss him, the feeling so strong it sends an ache down your core, releasing a shaky breath as he squeezes at your thighs before his fingers continue, dipping inside of you with ease. Luckily, with this position, he’s got a free hand to rub at your clit, thumb pressed firmly against the nub and drawing soft, mewling sounds from your lips. 

It’s intoxicating, the subtle smell of barley and fresh soap. He’s speaking to you in some far off, distant place, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets an inescapable pace. They’re goading words, encouraging and bordering the line of patronizing but you can’t commit them to memory, only coming as another soft command falls from his lips.

Because he sees your fingers itching, needy, “Touch yourself,” He murmurs, his touch somehow more tender as his fingers pump inside of you, thumb working quick circles of your clit as you hands drag feather-light of your breasts, a tickle at the center of your chest before you’re squeezing the flesh under your grip and moaning louder as he changes the angle of his fingers inside of you, deep and undeniably precise. Thick fingers keep you full and satisfied.

He can hear your breath quickening, a silent warning when your brain wasn’t catching up with the rest of your body, words a complete loss. His fingers slip out of you, wet slick smearing over your mouth as he leans forward to muffle the unintentional cry that falls from your lips as he pulls you over the edge with a mere motion of his thumb, your eyes squeezing shut as you come.

The pleasure blooms inside, teeth digging gently into the skin of his palm as you selfishly savor the feeling, Joel only moving away when your eyes fall back on him—back to reality.

“How’s that for a mess?” Joel doesn’t miss a beat, turning your earlier jab back on you as you notice the gleam on his fingers, thin strings of slick hang between his fingers as he separates them and you pull at his wrist, knowing that Joel would follow through the rest of the way, pressing his fingers to your lips as you clean him, tongue dragging along the digits diligently.

You swear you hear Joel groan, but it was muffled by your own squeak as Joel grabbed at your chin, flesh pinched between his fingers, “Eat your damn dinner,” He demands, but you quickly muffle him with the fabric of your underwear, shoving it into his mouth before you move dangerously close to his face, still under the stern grip of his hand.

“No problem,” You appease him, “and a suggestion—”

Pulling the fabric from his mouth, you aren’t amiss as he pockets it, his eyebrows raising in question.

“Double check your doors next time you decide to jerk off to me.”

Because if anything, you wanted him to be more deliberate.

Joel’s flush deepens, shame flashing in his eyes for a brief moment before you break out into a playful smile as you sing softly, “Goodnight, Joel.”

Joel’s never had a harder time falling asleep, night creeping into dawn before the slumber finally takes him, riddled with a guilt that is indescribable. 

–

Breakfast is quiet.

Too quiet.

You pick lazily at the fresh blueberry muffins your mother had baked that morning, watching as Tommy conversed with Joel across the living room, both of them nursing steaming cups of coffee. Your mother notices your trailing gaze, mistaking it for you spacing out as she perks up, speaking from beside you as she pours more orange juice into your empty glass.

“I was thinking we could do something in town today,” She begins, “all of us—Joel, too. Tommy mentioned they’ve got a fair going on downtown—food, music, plenty to keep you interested.”

You slip the blueberry beyond your lips and chomp down, “What’s the occasion? Big news? Don’t tell me your pregnant—”

Your name comes out as a stark warning, the plastic bottle of orange juice crunching under her grip, “That is not—no, I’m not. But, Tommy and I…may have put an offer down on a house, if you’re that curious. We were gonna drive by on the way there and show it to you.”

You shake your head nonchalantly, “Joel was actually going to take me to that cowboy museum a couple towns over—I forgot to ask, but you don’t care, right?”

Joel perks up at the mention of his name, his conversation with Tommy stalling.

“I mean, I’ll be with Joel,” You remind her, “I’ll be safe, won’t I?”

Your head turns over your shoulder, catching Joel’s surprised expression and watching as it slowly morphs into understanding, silently following the path you had so carefully constructed as he approaches the counter at your side, pressing his mug into the counter.

“I shoulda mentioned it,” He lies through his teeth, “slipped my mind, but it’s alright with you?”

She swallows. Tense. 

Tommy interjects then and chuckles, clapping a hand over his brother’s shoulder.

“History of cowboys?” He asks, “Oh come on, sweetheart. Let ‘em go, they can always meet up with us after.”

She folds for Tommy, of course. Flashing an apprehensive smile that you knew too well, eyes flitting toward the pair of brother’s with a cynical regard, catching Joel’s tight expression for a brief moment. You had lied, big deal.

 It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve done as of late, watching the leisurely swagger of Joel’s walk as he steps toward the coffee pot, offering a sturdy goodbye over his shoulder as the lovebirds make their escape, leaving you both under the thick cloud of unspoken tension.

With disregard, he walks past you and sips noisily at his coffee, taking a seat on the couch with the low hum of the morning news as your sock covered feet pat softly against the floor. Your thigh presses against the arm hanging over the couch as you squeeze by, but you’re stopped by Joel’s foot pressing into the coffee table, blocking your path.

“You make plans for somethin’ I’m unaware of?” 

You huff out a soft laugh through your nose before you shove at his foot gently, knocking it to the ground before you’re climbing over his lap, mug screeching against the table as Joel scrambles to place it down, his hands falling against your hips instinctively as you settle over him, tight shorts crawling up your thighs and settling in the crease of your hips.

His touch is intimate—and warm, god his hands were always so warm. Your fingers scratch testingly at his patchy facial hair, a delicate touch that extends to his mused morning hair, untouched and still riddled with sleep. Then he’s inhaling hard as your lips press to his without preamble, his mouth opening in a quiet sigh and your tongue find the opportunity and slips beyond his lips, dragging over his teeth as it swipes against his own tongue and for a few minutes he melts into you, returning the kiss back feverishly.

But, like a fragile tower—the moment snaps and collapses in on itself as Joel shoves you away, a large hand pressed against your collarbone as you yelp at the sudden movement, slightly disappointed as you frown.

“Stop,” he breaths out harsh, his hand fisting in your shirt as he peers up you through a half-lidded gaze, “you—we can’t keep doin’ this, kid.”

“No one’s here,” you murmur, pushing at his hand but it doesn’t budge, so you settle for his thighs, cotton material smooth to the touch as you fingers climb until they can settle near his groin, rubbing your clothed cunt against his hardened cock, a noticeable tent in his pants, “if you worried about getting caught.”

“I know you’re doing this to get back at your mother,” Joel begins, but he never gets the chance to finish.

“And if I was doing this for me?” You counter, “Because I want to? What would you say then?”

There’s a long beat of silence, Joel’s hands pressing into your hips again to keep you still, frozen in place and unable to chase the pleasure you were so desperately after.

“Naive,” He offers, “childish—downright stupid, if you think about it. I’m twice your age and if the other reason wasn’t obvious, well—“

“We’re not blood related,” you argue, “it isn’t nearly the same thing and you know it.”

You lean forward, crowding into his space once more, the ghost of his breath across your lips as he eyes follow, his head leaning back as you move in, hesitant. 

“Besides, I think you’ve ruined all other men for me,” You goad, a salacious grin spreading across your face, “your fingers—Joel, they’re—“

At a loss for words, you sigh, hips dropping against his groin pointedly, he grunts and you can see the hard line of his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

“I’m not the one, darlin’. You can’t compare me to them—I’m old, I’ve lived. Don’t think you gotta settle for me.”

Joel has sequestered himself to loneliness—after his separation from his wife, the loss of his daughter, he was content being alone. Living alone. Dying alone. 

Drowned out by bad decisions and alcohol, he’s found himself regretting his choices once again, but not for the reasons he had hoped.

He didn’t regret you—his actions with you, but how the repercussions would affect you if your mother found out, his brother. There was no coming back, no explanation that could justify his actions.

But you’re sitting, pouting in his lap as your finger twirls around the string of his sleep pants and he knows that look—more, give me more.

Nothing would satiate that hunger.

“I’m not a virgin, you know,” you add as if it may magically heal things, but the next words out of your mouth have Joel squeezing at the flesh of your hips, words that make his cock pulse under his clothes, “I think you enjoy corrupting me, too. My mom put me on birth control the second she was able, afraid I’d turn out like her.”

Luckily, you hadn’t. She’d never let you live that down.

You press in further, a hand climbing up to press against the column of Joel’s throat, lips sliding against his as you whisper, “Do you wanna ruin me, Joel?”

All you get in response is a growl, deep and intense as he surges forward, kissing you soundly to shut you up.

It was a weight off your chest, a sharp breath as he slips his tongue into your mouth as you part your lips as his fingers pull at the base of your scalp, a sharp sting of pain drowned out by pleasure.

“Upstairs,” he ordered, mouth down your neck hungrily, “in your room, now.”

The heated, dark look in his eyes tells you that you weren’t going alone, his footsteps trailing behind you.

-

He splits you open with his thighs, already bare underneath him as he’s stripped himself of everything but his pants, sans his underwear he definitely wasn’t wearing, an unreadable expression on his face. Pinched, his brow furrowed as he lingered around you, hands pressing into the mattress but not you, careful that his hands didn’t stray too far again.

“Should I say my morning prayers?” You tease, your pointer finger trailing down the center of his chest, both of your eyes following the digit until it hooks into the waistband of his underwear, “Absolve you of some guilt?”

“It ain’t guilt,” Joel retorts, dark eyes flicking up toward you, “you really think all that prayin’ actually works?”

You shrug, “I dunno what I think anymore—what do you believe in, Joel?”

Joel chuckles lowly, ignoring your hand as it slips beyond the material to touch him, his cock heavy in your hands, feeling the surreality of the moment hit you all at once as his hips keen into the touch, a subtle gesture as his fists settle into the space beside your head.

“Ain’t never believe in nothing,” He responds quieter, “easier that way.”

You hum softly, nodding absently to his response as you force the final piece of clothing down his hips, his eyes never really leaving you—wandering, maybe, but you have his full attention.

“Come on, Joel,” You squander, giving his cock a light squeeze before your hand trails up his chest, fingers forming to the lines of his jaw as your fingers glide over his scruff, “Easier?”

“You’re brainwashed,” He admits, pausing to slip his hand between your bodies and drifting over your cunt before he slips two fingers inside of you without warning, a gasp ripping from your throat but quickly settling as his fingers work inside of you meticulously, dragging with gentle pressure against your walls, “can’t think for yourself without feelin’ guilt, can you?”

He’s making a mockery of the beliefs you’ve been under for years—you get it, you do. But, it seems to strike a nerve when you dig deeper, unsure why, amongst your building pleasure the taunting scripture slips from your lips in an attempt to rile him further.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just—” Your voice wavers as Joel’s attention snaps to your soft words, eyes locked on his unreadable expression, “ and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousn—”

A tight squeeze at the cross around your neck does him in.

A familiar sound slips beyond his lips, a hungry and deep set growl as he breaks from you, manhandling you with force onto your stomach and in an attempt to muffle your antics and silence you, a hand pressed against the back of your neck, face pressed into the soft fluff of your pillow as his voice rumbles behind you.

“Ain’t gonna listen to that shit,” Joel gripes, his free hand binding to your waist as he lifts your hips up, back arched and ass up, breathing out a soft noise of protest as he squeezes at your skin, “—you done?”

You shake your head weakly, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as the full expanse of his hand slides over your cheek, pressing your face deeper into the pillow, his thumb tracing along the corner of your mouth.

“There’s no savin’ yourself from this, sweetheart,” Joel acknowledges, a vague but somehow crystal clear way of checking in, assuring there was consent to follow through—that you wanted this.

“I know,” You mumble around the finger that glides over your lip, a calloused thumb against soft, fleshy lips.

Joel presses inside of you with a low groan, mixed with a tight hiss as you clench around him instinctively, your eyes drifting shut as his cock fits inside your tight walls, both hands drifting to the pillow under your head and gripping tight as he begins a slow, steady snap of his hips in utter silence, forceful exhales coming from his nose as he fucks you from behind, noting the way your lips drift apart when he presses just a little too deep, the skin between your eyes scrunching up at the bridge of your nose.

His thumb presses inside of your mouth, against the inside of your cheek before pressing against your tongue, effectively silencing you, “Go on,” Joel taunts, “keep prayin’.”

Your eyes roll back as the hand gripping your waist travels over your stomach and toward your cunt, his middle finger drifting featherlight over your clit in slow circles, your grip in the weak cloth fabric growing tighter—you make an attempt, unintelligible mumbles around his thick finger, followed by a deep snicker of amusement from the man behind you, inside of you.

“Don’t try and convince me you believe that shit,” Joel tells you, “not when you’re beggin’ me to fuck you like this—’ve never been a saint, either.”

Eventually, your mind goes blank, a welcomed numbness as Joel fucks you into the mattress above a squeak boxspring in a home that didn’t belong to you, in a room that has only been yours for a short time, giving in to a forbidden temptation with a man who’s challenged every belief you’ve ever known.

He notices your attention drifting, removing his hand from your mouth, smearing the saliva over your breasts as he jostles you upright, your back pressed tight against his chest as you move against him lazily, feeling the deep, full snap of his hips as he breathes hot and heavy into your neck.

“Just this time,” He promises you, “no more teasin’, or lying—”

The preaching to you was rich, given his own actions. He must be speaking to himself, committing himself to it aloud. You nod regardless, knowing now that you’ve learned his weakness.

Because, like you, it was the unavoidable temptation.

“Another secret?” You tease, feeling the crest of your orgasm building in your gut as he squeezes at your breast, his soft groans evolving into throaty moans, a boisterous surprise to somehow who’s always so forlorn, an empty house with no reason to hide his deep and selfish need for pleasure, you giggle quietly through the force of your orgasm as you both collapse on the mattress, Joel’s hands barely catching himself to avoid the weight of his body pressing into you as he pulls out of you slowly, the bed creaking underneath the movement.

You feel candescent, shirt barely covering your body as you haphazardly drape it over yourself, watching as Joel pulled his sweatpants back up over his hips, his eyes catching on you in a way you’ve never witnessed, his come literally dripping down your thighs and he senses the shift in your expression, immediate guilt flushing your body and showing in the way your body curls in on itself, avoiding the eye contact he was offering. 

He sees it, the way your brain is programmed to feel immediate guilt, shame, and as much as he’d like to think of a way to fix it, he knows that was something you had to work through on your own.

A shower would work for now, though. 

Wash away the sin until the inevitable happens.

-

There is some normalcy that returns to your life as your classes resume, finding that time away from the Miller household was refreshing in a way. Tension with your mother was unavoidable, the wedding on the horizon and the impending truth threatening to come to light—your mother had done an excellent job as sheltering you, brainwashing you, and scaring you into behaving out of fear that you might be stuck down. 

It all seemed small and finite now, that craving to break Joel down for your own pleasure, seeing the shell of a man he was now.

And he, of course, couldn’t even follow through with his own promise to himself.

Though, as you return for the short weekends, he doesn’t always seem like…Joel.

He drinks more, itching toward the end of September soon and a couple months back at school and when you aren’t buried in the sheets of your twin bed or locked away in the darkness of his room when you’re both home alone, he reeks of alcohol and silence.

He doesn’t seem angry or upset, but the sadness is like a wave.

It makes it easier to keep your distance, something Joel acts like he wants, but then he’s seeking you out in the dark again, bourbon on his tongue and you return the messy kiss he presses to your lips, trying to silence your own thoughts by occupying yourself with him.

But, he does sense your hesitancy.

“I’ll go,” He speaks into the darkness, a hand cradling your head as he squeezes at the base of your neck, a comforting gesture despite the cloud that shrouded him, “if you want me to.”

You’ve barely seen him all day, both of the brothers overwhelmingly forlorn, but you don’t pry.

“No, no,” You insist, hushed against his mouth as you seek out his eyes, glossed over and hooded, his shoulders twitching when your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, “you just—you seem tired.”

It was a loaded word, one that Joel doesn’t touch or elaborate on. But, he was tired, physically. Taking on more shifts before the holidays approach, begging to keep himself occupied alongside his brother who was stressing for his own reasons. He’d come to you seeking a weird dichotomy of comfort and it made you feel warm inside, but a tinge of warning couldn’t be ignored.

“Just sleep here,” You suggest, “I’ll wake you early, before they’re up.”

Without protest, he nods.

You can’t explain how easily your bodies mold together on the too small mattress, like this was something you’ve done for years, staring up blankly at the ceiling as Joel snored quietly beside you.

–

“Hey, kiddo,” Tommy boasts from the kitchen counter as descend the stairs, making your pass through the fridge before you’re gone for another week, “school treatin’ you alright?”

“It’s fine,” You shrug noncommittally, ripping a banana from its bunch and reaching for the half empty jug of orange juice, pouring half a cup to sate your stomach, “how’s mom?”

Tommy feels the heaviness around the question, tensing as he sips at his coffee, “Stressed over the wedding, all the planning, ya know—“

“Yeah,” It’s lazy and short, but Tommy knows your relationship with her is less than favorable lately, sensing your desire for freedom and answers, truth rather than careful lies your mother has constructed around you for your safety, “uh, can I ask a question, actually?”

Tommy nods, hearing the faint creaking of the floorboard somewhere distant in the house. 

“Is…Joel okay?” 

Tommy seems surprised, but he masks it quickly.

“Oh, he…usually gets…worse around the anniversary of Sarah’s death,” Your eyes wander, clearly missing crucial information but your eyes drift toward the closed bedroom door that was vehemently off limits, always wondering but never questioning, “shit—we ain’t mentioned her to you?”

You shake your head.

“She died about five years ago, raisin’ her alone had always been tough on Joel but her dying…it’s been hard.”

“His daughter?”

He had a daughter.

I’m old, I’ve lived, the words echoing in your head.

“He…never mentioned her, you’ve never…”

“He won’t,” Tommy tells you, “can’t even bring her up to him most days—I thought I’d mentioned it to you but it must’ve slipped my mind, I’m sorry, kiddo.”

“No, don’t…don’t apologize.” You assure him, taking a sip of the tart juice and peeling slowly at the peel of your banana, “I guess that explains the bottles on the table when I come home every weekend.”

And the alcohol on his breath when he kisses you.

Tommy notes the way you so easily call the house home now, smiling slightly. But, he’s always been aware of his brother’s…problem, not sure how to help or fix the situation without an implosion happening.

In the distance, you can hear your mother calling out for Tommy, his eyes drifting toward the sound.

“Have a good week,” He pressed a gentle kiss at the crown of your head, squeezing at your shoulder before leaning over to speak under his breath, “—you should talk to your mom before you plan on taking that offer, by the way.”

Your attention perks up, his finger drifting toward the envelope hidden under a stack of placemats on the kitchen table before he’s interrupted by another shout from your mother, “I can handle the fallout for you, kiddo. Don’t worry.”

Tommy retreats and eventually, you do too. Snatching the letter up and stowing it away in your bag, you aren’t able read through it until later that night, Joel’s unsaved number lingering on the phone screen in your missed calls.

It was an internship at your dream job in Dallas, a flat rate pay out with six months of lodging covered while you got on your feet—but more importantly it was an escape. 

You should be upset at Tommy for prying, opening the letter before you had a chance to peek at it yourself, but he’s sensed the tension for months. He loved your mother, but he cared for you, even in the tumultuous months he’s been around you both. 

You were strong, independent, and far better off blossoming on your own without the hard grip of your mother and her undying but fickle faith. 

The second call from Joel startles you back to reality, answering with a shaky finger.

“Didn’t say goodbye this morning,” Joel greets, only sounding slightly bitter.

You’re quiet for longer than Joel is comfortable with and he almost speaks again, apologizes, but you cut him off.

“Sorry…my mom, it seemed like she was already on her reign of terror and I didn’t…she’s hard to be around anymore.”

“I’m just messin’ with you, kid,” He replies, letting out a soft huff as he sat down in his worn-in recliner.

“Are they home?”

“Left about an hour ago, they’re movin’ stuff into the house, I guess? I don’t know,” Joel sounds disinterested and you share the sentiment, but then there’s a distinct snap of a bottle cap that you try to ignore.

Joel hears your lips part on the other end, “It’s been a long day,” It was the first time he’s outright acknowledged it, which was a step, but not what you needed.

“Tommy told me,” You blurt in frustration, “about her.”

“Listen, I don’t need you judgin’ me either. I get it enough from Tommy as is—“

“I’m not…I wasn’t,” You respond, confused, “I just, I wish you’d mentioned her, at least. Not that you owe that to me…but—”

Joel clears his throat and the bottle scuffs the table, undrank as he settles back into his seat.

“I got my own baggage, ain’t no sense dragging you into that,” Joel defends, “not with all you have going on.”

“If you can fuck me, you can talk to me too,”

It silences him effectively, “I’m not a child. I’m not your child. I’m an adult—“

“Where is this comin’ from? I’ve never said that—“

“I don’t know,” You sigh in exasperation, “It’s been a long day, Joel. I’m gonna head to bed, okay?”

You don’t wait for his response, hanging up on him with a frustrated finality, mad at yourself and him, reasons unclear—you haven’t prayed in months, but you find the urge as the guilt creeps in, wondering if Joel was the corruptor your mother had always warned you about.

They’ll come at your weakest and test your faith, and if you break, you’re just as feeble as the rest of the world without faith to guide them.

-

The week drags and you’d much rather be somewhere else, but you find yourself turning the doorknob to the Miller home and a Happy Birthday balloon floating into the open doorway, a contorted look of confusion on your face as your eyes land on the three adults in the living room.

“Are we celebrating early?” You look at your mother, who’s birthday is approaching in a couple weeks, but she’s quickly shaking her head.

“It’s Joel’s birthday, honey.”

“Oh,” Your eyes glide over the three of them until they land on Joel, “Happy Birthday?”

Joel hates the attention, clearly. 

The next few hours are spent together at a fancy restaurant Tommy decides to treat everyone too, a nice gesture for his brother’s birthday, but it doesn’t dissipate the underlying frustration.

And Tommy, being a pushover for the sake of allowing his brother to enjoy his birthday, drinks alongside him—four beers down and a couple shots later, dinner finished and skipping dessert, everyone is heading back to the car in silence, though Joel does look considerably lighter in his expression, his normally furrowed brow now relaxed.

Your mother is quick to drag Tommy to their shared room when you’re home, giving you a gentle hug that you haven’t felt in months, strange and unsettling to your psyche. Joel relaxes onto the couch, kicking his boots off toward the edge of the rug before he’s searching around blindly for the remote, thumbing the button to turn on the television.

It illuminates the dim room and you find yourself standing there, unmoving, suddenly feeling completely out of place in a home you’ve grown comfortable in.

“You’re quiet,” Joel notes, not looking at you while he fumbles with his watch, twisting in on his wrist as he places a sock covered foot against the coffee table.

“And you’re drunk,” You retorted, the again unsaid but implied.

“Believe it ‘r not, I can handle myself. I know my limit,” Joel responds, “I’ve been cuttin’ back, I don’t need you tellin’ me what I can handle. You’re young, you wouldn’t understand anyways.”

“Guess so,” You reply lamely, stripping off your shirt down to the thin spaghetti top, the thick September heat seeping inside the Miller home, even as the sun set—and you can feel Joel’s eyes on you before you look at him, eyes lingering longer than they should.

There were often moments where he would fend off your advances, quiet moments at home alone when you would slip into his lap or behind him and he’d let you down easily, but he wasn’t always that strong—a weak man with temptation dangling in his face. He’s always been in the wrong from the beginning, allowing any of this to develop and further.

But, you’re feeling vindictive tonight—upset and angry at yourself, angry at Joel—no, frustrated. 

And with Tommy and your mother turned in for the night, absolutely no sign of them resurfacing until morning, nothing was stopping you as Joel’s eyes bored into you and the slow rise and fall of your chest.

He’s always been cautious and safe, never while the house was occupied, only in quiet and enclosed spaces that he could lock the doors—that in the chance you might get caught he could lie or evade and not face the consequences, but even as you grow closer and climb into his lap, he doesn’t stop you.

Your hands grip his hair immediately, yanking his head back as you press your ass into his thighs and bring your lips to his jaw, mouthing against the line of his neck and around, pulling at the collar of his shirt to nip at his chest, nothing but his shallow breaths and the soft hum of the television to fill the air, the solid press of his hard cock against your inner thigh a warning sign.

You could end it here, leave him with the guilt that continued to grow within him. 

You could drag him to his room, ride him over his sheets like he desired, a clandestine sight that would have any man on his knees—or so he’s told you. 

Or, you seduce him here.

He was already nearly there, reaching for you as he leaned forward when you pulled back, pressing a hand into his chest, “I’m leaving, after the wedding,” Joel pauses, the furrow in his brow returning faintly, “I got an offer for an internship.”

“Well..that’s good, ain’t it?”

His hands squeeze at your sides as they travel and settle there, ignoring the obvious danger that the two could walk out at any moment, focused solely on you. It shouldn’t make you feel good, but it does. You shouldn’t want this, but you craved it.

“No, like—I’m leaving that night. To Dallas.” A long pause follows and Joel waits, watching as you glance down the hall, “I don’t know how to tell her.”

“Do you want to?” Joel asks.

You sigh softly, playing with the hem of his collar, “No, I don’t. Tommy told me he could deal with the fallout, but—”

“Tommy knows?”

You look at him with a tired roll of your eyes and a faint smile, “Yes, he does. He snooped and read the letter—he’s known I’ve wanted this opportunity for a while.”

“I didn’t think you two talked that much,” Joel replies honestly.

“We don’t, not always,” You admit, “not with my mom around—and he told me, about your drinking problem.”

Joel huffs quietly, scratching at his cheek as he looks away.

“I just—this isn’t…like, it isn’t also because of that, right?” You ask, “Does drinking make you feel less guilty about it?”

You know it isn’t the entire reason, but there is some suspicion. Given the constant lingering taste on his lip after the first instance together and the several that followed, a burgeoning problem of his own melding with the dangerous secrets you’ve been trying to keep.

“There’s no guilt,” It was the most confident you’ve heard Joel to be…ever. Not an ounce of hesitation in his tone, “We’re adults, we made a choice. But, I think there is a point where we have to realize this can’t work.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Joel awaits quietly, not giving you a nod but his eyes turn up in wait, his thumbs slipping under the fabric of your shirt to press into warm flesh.

“If they weren’t together—if your brother wasn’t going to be my stepdad, would you have thought twice? If we had met at a bar or something?”

“I don’t know,” Joel answers, unsure.

You sigh deeply, leaning into his eyeline to capture his lips, an unexpected kiss that grabs his attention, his hands climbing higher under your shirt in search of skin.

“I think you do,” You mumble against his mouth, “I also think you were vulnerable and you saw that I was too and you wanted to feel a little less lonely.”

Joel can’t find the words to respond, feeling like you’ve seen straight through him.

“So, let me help a little more,” You soothe his rapidly beating heart with your sultry tone, unbuttoning your jeans with slow movements, only removing yourself from him briefly to strip your jeans and underwear off before you return to his lap.

You wait until he finally got with the program and unbuttoned his own jeans, shifting them just far enough down his thighs that they’re out of the way, grabbing for the blanket draped over the couch to wrap around you and you almost protest, but the concentrated look on his face as returns your gaze short-circuits your thinking, fisting his cock as he slides it between your wet folds, pressing inside of you slowly, your slow breaths mingling together in each other’s mouth.

“Quiet,” He reminds you, “we have to be quiet.”

Easier said than done, you giggle against his lips.

“Says you,” You tease, lifting your hips slowly as he follows the movement, allowing you to lead, your hands pressing into the back of the couch, “I like hearing how bad you want it,”

Joel’s hand dwarfs your mouth as he covers it, eyes narrowing at your pointed choice of words and he snaps his hips into you harshly without warning, forcing out a yelp into his palm as your hands tighten into the cushion, canting your hips as you lift them in time with his thrusts.

He’s got his teeth digging into his bottom lip in an attempt to silence himself, eventually grabbing for your hand and covering his own mouth in desperation, wrapping his free hand around your back and pulling you to his chest, foreheads pressed against each other as you meld together, different emotions swirling as he commits this feeling, and your body, to memory.

Joel feels the familiar, cold touch of your dangle chain necklace, plain silver cross interlocked at the center of it, at this angle it nudges his nose with every thrust, a dainty piece of jewelry that he always took the time to tuck behind your neck—he’s never seen you without it.

He thinks for a moment, considering his action before he’s reaching to tuck it behind your head.

But, your hand stops him, placing it back center before you’re reaching behind to unclasp the necklace from your body, dangling it over the empty cushion beside you.

“It’s okay,” You can sense Joel’s confusion, worry— “I’m starting to figure things out for myself,” It’s intimate, the way you’re talking to him now, voice barely above a whisper as his hips rock gently to keep a slow place, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, “besides…the things I want you to do to me, it’s blasphemy, really.”

Joel snorts at that, finding the sudden burst of energy to snake his hands under your thighs, lifting you up slightly as he scoots himself further down the couch, feet planted flat on the ground and allowing you proper leverage to use his body just the way you desire.

It takes very little time to work him up, a deep growl suppressed behind clenched teeth as your fingers dig into his cheek where your hand is still tight over his mouth, riding him with a clear determination, his eyes softening and pleading—he’s right there and you can see it.

His eyes flutter, hand squeezing and kneading at your thigh in silent prayer. 

Rich, you think. Maybe you’ve been worshiping wrong your entire life.

Your climax comes slowly, alongside his. It’s quiet, a long moment of drawn out sighs poured into each other’s skin, his achy groan a light reprieve to the moment as you climb off of him.

“Staying or going?” He asks after you’ve stood, blanket wrapped around your body.

“Depends,” Your finger dangle in front of his face, watching as he works his jeans back up his thighs, belt sitting unbuckled in his lap, “your room or mine?”

Joel nods with a smile, nudging you toward the hall.

–

Joel’s dangling the silver necklace in his hand as you exit the bathroom, hair damp and dressed in only a shirt—his shirt, climbing onto his bed while he approaches with an extended hand.

You take it silently, passing it off to his bedside table without a word.

“So, when do we have the talk?” You ask curiously, ripping the bandaid off immediately.

“Not tonight, if you don’t want to.”

Your brow pinches together as he slips under the blanket beside you, throwing the cover back to beckon you underneath. You oblige, sliding onto your knees to lean against his chest, forearm covering his abdomen as you rest your chin on your arm.

“I was thinking about starting deconstruction therapy,” You admit, scratching a fingernail at the patchy and fading emblem on his shirt, “It’s…silly, I know. But, I think it might help. I’m doubting—well, everything. I just need someone to talk to. A professional, I mean.”

“That really what you want?” Joel asks curiously, his fingers wrapping around your wrist gently, rubbing his thumb into the skin, “It ain’t because of me, is it?”

“I think I’ve been questioning things long before you, or even Tommy. I’m telling you because—I don’t know, I guess I want to hold myself accountable. So I don’t chicken out. Besides, you seem pretty good at keeping secrets.”

Joel shakes his head slightly in amusement, heaving out a long sigh as his eyes turn toward the ceiling, still favoring your touch as he continues to rub slow circles into your skin.

“I…also think you should get some help,” You add gently, “talk to someone about Sarah—doesn’t have to be me. I mean, Tommy is terrified to mention her, and thinks you’ll blow up on him. You’re…you’re an alcoholic, you know that? My mom was too, before she met Tommy.”

Joel keeps quiet, chewing at his bottom lip. It wasn’t a horrible sign, so you continue.

“She hid it really well, you…not so much.”

“So, holdin’ each other accountable then, huh?” Joel inquires, eyebrow raised.

“I can forgive your lapse in judgement when it came to me—the sex is…good,” You pause, considering your words, “really…really fucking good, but I think we’re using it to avoid things.”

“Think you can fix me?” Joel asks, with a tone of honesty in his voice, “Sweetheart, I’ve been broken for a long time.”

“Mend,” You emphasize, “you can heal—so can I. I think we both owe it to ourselves”

His hand engulfed the side of your face, the hot press of his skin against your cheek as you smiled against the touch, watching as he slowly returned the gesture.

“I think we do, sweetheart.”

I’ll try, for you—he thinks silently but doesn’t say. It doesn’t matter that his fatal attraction had turned into something of lasting admiration, because that would never work. 

But, for you, he’d try.

[1-and-done3]

 Discover the Truth About the Appearance of Bed Bugs

Bed bugs are a common nuisance that can cause significant discomfort and anxiety. Recognizing these pests and understanding their appearance is crucial in effectively eliminating them. With the innovative solution from 1-and-done.com, you can permanently extinguish your bed bug nightmares.

Bed bugs are small, reddish-brown insects that feed on the blood of humans and animals. They are typically about the size of an apple seed, measuring around 5-7 millimeters in length. Despite their small size, bed bugs are visible to the naked eye. Here are some key features to help you identify them:

Adult bed bugs are oval-shaped and flat, making them adept at hiding in cracks and crevices. After feeding, they become engorged and more elongated.

 Bed bugs are typically a reddish-brown color. Newly hatched nymphs are nearly colorless but turn brown as home and business pest control they mature. After feeding, their bodies appear redder due to the blood they have consumed. Unlike some other insects, bed bugs do not have wings. They rely on their six legs for movement, allowing them to crawl rapidly over floors, walls, and ceilings. Bed bugs have short, segmented antennae that help them sense their environment and locate hosts.

Identifying the appearance of bed bugs is just one part of the process. Recognizing the signs of an infestation is equally important:

 Bed bug bites often appear as small, red, itchy welts on the skin, usually in a line or cluster. These bites are typically found on exposed areas such as the face, neck, arms, and hands.

 After feeding, bed bugs may leave small blood stains on your sheets, pillowcases, or mattress. Bed bug excrement appears as tiny black or dark brown spots on bedding, walls, or furniture. As bed bugs grow, they shed their exoskeletons. Finding these shed skins is a clear indication of their presence.  In severe infestations, a musty, sweet odor may be present due to the pheromones released by bed bugs.

Bed bugs are notorious for being difficult to eradicate. Their small size and ability to hide make them elusive, while their rapid reproduction rate can quickly escalate an infestation. Bed bugs are primarily nocturnal, feeding on their hosts while they sleep. This nocturnal behavior, coupled with their ability to go months without feeding, makes them particularly challenging to control.

Bed bug bites can cause a range of physical and psychological effects. While some individuals may not react to bites, others may experience severe itching, allergic reactions, or secondary infections from scratching. The presence of bed bugs can also lead to anxiety, stress, and sleep disturbances.

Given the resilience and persistence of bed bugs, professional intervention is often necessary for complete eradication. This is where 1-and-done.com comes in with their innovative solution. Their approach is designed to permanently eliminate bed bugs, providing peace of mind and a restful night's sleep.

1-and-done.com's solution involves a comprehensive process that targets bed bugs at all stages of their life cycle. Their method includes:

Identifying the extent of the infestation and locating all hiding spots. Using advanced techniques and treatments to eliminate bed bugs effectively. Ensuring that the infestation is completely eradicated and preventing future occurrences.

Choosing 1-and-done.com for bed bug elimination offers several advantages:

 Their team of professionals is highly trained and experienced in dealing with bed bug infestations. Their innovative solution is designed to permanently extinguish bed bugs, detailed treatment steps ensuring long-term relief. The treatments used are safe for both humans and pets, providing peace of mind during the elimination process.

1-and-done.com is committed to delivering exceptional customer service and ensuring complete satisfaction with their work.

Bed bugs are a formidable foe, but with the right approach, they can be permanently eradicated. Recognizing the appearance of bed bugs and understanding the signs of an infestation are crucial first steps. With the help of 1-and-done.com, you can effectively eliminate bed bugs and enjoy a peaceful, bug-free environment. Their innovative solution is certain to extinguish your bed bug nightmares for good. 

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Get Some - Tierna Davidson x Reader

Prompt: So I’ve got an idea for Tierna x Reader where they’ve just started dating after quarantined together in Chicago but haven’t told the team yet because they don’t want to mess up the dynamics right before the Olympics. Nobody really suspects anything bc they are both pretty tame at camps, and bc reader has severe baby face the team is always teasing her about being an innocent little fetus forgetting she is actually like 24. So when R shows up to Orlando camp in a bulky hoodie they think nothing of it assuming it’s from Chicago weather until they notice she refuses to take it off and keeps adjusting the hood to keep part of her neck covered. They let her be thinking maybe she’s just cold until she shows up ready for practice with her winter mock neck on under her practice jersey the next day. After they force her to take it off bc it’s 80° out they discover the hickeys she was trying to hide, along with the scratches on her back and freak out bc someone is “defileing the fetus” and grill her trying to figure out who it is while Tierna is just smirking to herself by her locker.

TL/DR: Tierna x Reader trying and failing to hide r’s “love marks” featuring Proud!Tierna and BabyFace!Reader

Note - this awesome human, pretty much wrote this me. 

“Cold munchkin?” Alex teased the forward as she sat next to her in the team meeting. Her hood up, sweater strings tied.

“Not all of us live in constant heat and humidity Morgan. I bet you’re jealous of my lack of tan too,” Y/N winked back, tugging the sweater tighter around her neck.

Tierna grinned behind them, struggling to stifle her laughter.

“Of course she’s jealous! Who wouldn’t want to look like this?” Rose slid in on the other side of Y/N.

“Yea Alex, pale is the new tan,” Sonnett squeezed Alex’s traps from behind as she sat down next to Tierna.

Alex rolled her eyes at unexpected turn.

Vlatko called attention to the rest of the room, starting the meeting for the start of camp.

Tierna kicked the back of Y/N chair while she continued to try and hide her grin from everyone around her. Lindsey giving her a strange look.

At the end of the meeting, everyone made their way to the banquet room for supper, still all separated until everyone’s test results came in.  

“Hey kiddo, you need someone to cut up your food at supper?” Kelley teased, nudging the forward as she made her way to her own seat.

“Ha ha,” Y/N fake laughed, rolling her eyes, “because I’m not old enough to have my knife.”

“You got it,” Kelley winked, shooting her air guns across the table.

After that conversation flowed easily, the players all talking to each other from a distance, making the room busy and loud; everyone eager to catch up.

After supper, Y/N and Tierna attempted to stall, hoping to steal a brief moment together before they all had to spend the night alone in their rooms.

“We should just tell them we had been quarantined in Chicago together, then we could be together,” Tierna tugged on Y/N’s sleeve, swinging both their arms back and forth.

“You need T to walk you to your room, so you don’t get lost?” Ali teased as she walked by.

“Where the hell does everyone keep coming from,” Tierna grumbled quietly, while Y/N rolled her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

“I’m not a child!” Y/N stomped her foot.

“Great argument kiddo,” Pinoe held a thumbs up as she walked past to the elevator.  

“I can find my own room!” Y/N called after her, starting to walk away, only to feel another firm pull on her sleeve. She glanced down to see Tierna still holding on, looking up to see the smirk on her girlfriends face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to tuck our kid into bed.” Tierna started to pull Y/N towards the stairs by her sleeve.

Once out of site of the rest of the team, Tierna pinned Y/N against the wall, untieing the strings to her hood. Nosing it out of her way, Tierna started kiss along her jaw line, placing a firm bite to her ear.

“I am addicted to you,” Tierna pulled the collar out of the way, moving her lips to Y/N’s collar bone, scrapping her teeth on it, then soothing it with a gentle kiss.

“Fuck T,” Y/N tilted her head back, giving Tierna more room to kiss. Her hand gripping the back of Tierna’s neck, other sliding under her shirt, scrapping her nails across her ribs.

Tierna sucked harshly Y/N throat, pulling back to see the result, a deep red mark already beginning to turn purple. “You’re going to need to ask the staff for a neck warmer tomorrow,” she whispered into Y/N’s throat, scrapping her teeth across the bruise.

Y/N pulled her hand out from Tierna’s shirt, placing her palms on her chest, debating if she should push her away. She loved what was happening, but knew they needed to stop before things got carried away, or Tierna left any more marks.

“Fuck T,” Y/N groaned out, beginning to push the defender away, “we aren’t in quarantine anymore, people can actually see us now, more importantly, our team can see now.”

“Hmm that would be unfortunate if someone saw these,” Tierna smirked as she leaned back in, attempting to place more kisses along Y/N’s neck. Only for Y/N to push more firmly against her chest.

“You’re killing me babe,” Y/N bit her lip, trying to hold back her smile. Tierna looking completely unashamed, bit the air in front of Y/N, beginning to slide her hands up the front of Y/N’s shirt, digging her thumbs into her hips. Y/N moaned at the pressure, hips pressing out for more contact.

With a brief kiss to Y/N’s lips, Tierna pulled away completely, taking three large steps back and holding her hand out.

“Come on, I promised to make sure you make it to bed safe,” she winked, wiggling her fingers to encourage Y/N to grab.

“I hate you,” Y/N said gruffly, stepping forward to take Tierna’s hand.

“No you don’t,” she sung back, swinging their arms back and forth as they began walking up the stairs.

“I do a little bit,” she mumbled, looking away from the brunette, knowing her faux seriousness would crack as soon as she saw the large smile her girlfriend had on.

“Nope!” Tierna accentuated the ‘p’ at the end, swinging their arms higher, finally earning a giggle from her girlfriend. Her ability to go from pinning Y/N to the wall and leaving hickeys across her neck to innocent and childlike was incredible.

Y/N finally gave in completely and burst out laughing as they climbed the stairs, pushing her shoulders into the taller soccer player. The two gently wrestling the rest of the way up the stairs, separating as they made it to their floor.

Tierna walked Y/N to her door, making a show of it, “I’m just down the hall if you have any bad dreams,” she ruffled her hair and began to walk away. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

Several loud laughs could be heard from the doors that still remained open.

The next morning players prepared for practice on the side lines, tugging on cleats and debating on long sleeves or short sleeves, Y/N tugged her neck warmer on, tugging it all the way up to her ears.

“Yo, Chicago, shouldn’t you be used to the cold?” Kristie teased as they made their on the turf to warm up.

“Rude! I’m delicate!”

“Yea Kris be nice to the little kid,” Alex came from behind, rubbing her hands up and down Y/N’s biceps. “you cold? Do you need a sweater? Gloves?”

Y/N pulled out of Alex’s hands, rolling her eyes, “I’m fine, just a little chilly this morning.”

Everyone left it for the rest of the morning training.

Y/N was not as lucky that afternoon. Everyone offering warmer items of clothing when they saw her wearing the neck warmer again in the afternoon.

“Are you sick?” Christen reached up, attempting to feel Y/N’s forehead. Y/N was quick to duck out of the way, swatting Christens hand.

“Seriously guys, I’m fine, just not adjusting well to the climate change or something,” Y/N tried to avoid glaring at Tierna, knowing the defender would a smirk on her face throughout it all.

“Are you sure Y/N/N? Should we get the trainers?” know Tierna decided to join in the conversation. Y/N looked sharply at her girlfriend, clenching her jaw, she was the reason for the interrogation.

“I’m fine,” Y/N snarked to the group, “It’s a neck warmer, just drop it.”

“It is way to humid put here right now for you to be chilled,” Ali came over, rubbing her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, sensing the forwards discomfort at being put on the spot. But also concerned for the younger woman, no one should be chilled in the mid-afternoon Florida heat.

The entire practice everyone kept an eye on the younger soccer player. As the intensity of the practice increased, Y/N continued to tug at the neck warmer she was wearing. The hair at the base of her skull soaked with sweat, the collar of shirt drenched the entire away around, face flushed as she heated up.

At the end of practice, Y/N attempted to pull her hoodie over head after she had pulled the neck warm off. Unfortunately, she was not quick enough her movements, the hem getting caught on her sweaty, tangled bun.

“What in the actual fuck happened to your neck?” Pinoe explained, stopping Y/N from pulling the sweater on, gaining the attention of the rest of the team.

Kelley quickly bounded over, pulling the collar of her practice shirt out of the way. The rest of the team now all looking on.

“What happened to your neck?” Alex came over as well, thumb and forefinger holding Y/N’s chin, moving her head around, inspecting the now very prominent hickeys spread across the neck, collar bone, and upper chest.

A loud cat call whistle was heard from behind and “Oh damn” thrown from someone else, follow up with “get some!”

“No! Don’t get anything!” Christen shot the group of young players a hard look, eyes sharp when she looked back to Y/N, “who did this to you?”

“What? This?” Y/N motioned to her neck, “I, uhh, got a tour of the aquarium. They let me hold one of the octopuses.” She finished with a firm nod, satisfied with her answer, smiling to herself.

Tierna remained on the bench a few feet away, coughing to cover her sudden laugh at the terrible story.

“Bullshit!” Alex challenged, still holding Y/N chin firmly. Y/N attempted to pull away, Alex adjusted her grip, palming her jaw.

“Who did this to you?” Christen asked again.

“You’re like 12! No one should be doing this to you!”

“I’m 24,” Y/N rolled her eyes, attempting to pull away, only to be pulled back in.

“You are far too young to young to have hickeys!”

“I’ve had sex before.”

“No! you are not old enough to have sex!”

By now, Tierna was leaning back on the bench, watching as all the older players harassed her girlfriend, all unaware she was the cause of the marks on the young forward. She spread her arms on the back of the bench, leg casually crossed over the other, smug smile.

“Welp,” she popped the ‘p’, “I’ve kissed people, given hickeys, been hickied,” she motioned to her neck again, “and even had sex. Really good, mind blowing sex.” With a wink, Alex finally let her step out of her grip.

“Eww! No!”

“Y/N! Enough, tell us who did this to you? We obviously need to talk to them if they are doing things like this to you.”

“Guys, quit being so dramatic,” Y/N rolled her eyes, attempting to take another step away from the over protective players.

“No no no, come back here,” Tobin stepped forward now. “That ones fresh!” she copied Alex’s motion earlier, gripping her jaw and tilting it up to the expose the fresh hickey on the side.

This caused them all to step closer and inspect the hickey for themselves. Tierna uncrossed her legs, sitting up a little straighter, smile slipping slightly.

“That means its someone at camp!” Kristie called from behind all the veterans.

Y/N eyes went wide, smile fully dropping from Tierna’s face. The overprotective players all looking around, scanning each player, trying to determine who it could be.

“Is it a player? Staff? Coach?” Alex looked firmly at the younger forward.

“Gonna go save your girl?” Alyssa slid onto the bench next to Tierna on the bench, smirking at her.

“What?” Tierna whispered, shocked, eyes darting quickly to the keeper.

“Well,” Alyssa started slowly, “most of those are old, so they happened in Chicago, and you, me, and Y/N/N were the only ones there together. And there’s a fresh one since we got here. And since I didn’t do it, that only leaves you.” She firmly poked Tierna in the chest.

Tierna opened and closed her mouth. “Umm, uhh, fuck.”

“I won’t tell, but you might want to go save her over there. You know none of them are going to drop it until they figure it out,” Alyssa shrugged, “besides it’s your fault really. You are the one that put those one there.”  

Tierna continued to open and close her mouth, then watched as the veterans continued to ask Y/N who It was and beginning to call out several of the younger players who were all enjoying the small interrogation.

“Fuck,” Tierna sighed out, she slapped her thighs and pushed herself to stand. “Kell, Stanford should take your degree away.”

Kelley whipped around to glare at Tierna as she walked toward the group, “what are you talking about?”

“You’re really not very observant,” Tierna smirked at her, “I’m going to let you guys think on this a little more, Y/N/N and I are going to head back to the hotel for supper.”

Y/N smirked and skipped toward the defender.

Everyone watched them walk away, mouth open, eyebrows creased.

“Wait,” Lindsey perked up, smile growing as she figured it out, “weren’t they both in Chicago together?”

That brought all eyes over to the midfielder.

“Yes!” Kelley pointed at her, “they did! Baby T defiled baby Y/N!”

“Shit, I thought we would get further away,” Tierna tugged Y/N’s hand encouraging them to run towards an available van.

“We aren’t done with this!” Alex yelled after them.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do Drift and Ravage for the oxygen loss prompt?

I absolutely can do Ravage, our dear kitty deserves the love! Drift can be found in part six below!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Part Thirteen: You're Here!

Ravage

·The tale of how you even became friends with the reclusive and understandably untrusting felicon is as long as it is convoluted, but a good synopsis is that the two of you simply get one another. It doesn't hurt that you always gave him ample personal space and respected his boundaries, and the fact you don't mind meeting up in the vents is a plus for him. Bots are absolutely baffled by your relationship, so avoiding public spaces has become his preferred activity to enjoy with you, if only to be free of the gossip. Equally eager to have peace and quiet, you'd long since found ways to make his favorite spots in the vents into ideal hangouts.

·Unfortunately, today is one of the rare days he has to be away from your side and amongst the crew. On the Bridge there's some kind of trouble, requiring all the commanding officers to be present while it's sorted out, and he refuses to leave Megatron there alone. Primus knows his old friend gets blamed for everything that goes wrong eventually... Yet he's far from focused as the diagnostic scans reveal a confounding bug in the ship's programming. As worrying as it should be, his thoughts drift repeatedly to you, and how much he'd rather be somewhere far less open and bright. Hopefully this will all end soon, and the two of you can curl up somewhere to relax, with his larger body naturally fitting around yours as if made to do so...

·A teasing look from Megatron makes him realize he had allowed his dreamy thoughts to color his face with a ridiculous expression of lovestruck bliss. Pinning back his ears and flushing hot as a star, he can only be grateful no one else seemed to notice. Just as he's debating whether or not to sneak away, there's a commotion amongst the more tech savvy bots. They claim to have found the source of the programming bug; which isn't a bug at all, but a virus. Claws fully unsheathing in preparation for combat, his sense of dread grows exponentially as he puts together what is being said, realizing that something very bad is moments away. Lights flicker in confirmation of his fear. In moments the ship is flashing out a hundred or so alarms, signaling that it is more or less helpless against whatever may happen next.

·You're the first thing he thinks about as countless terrible scenarios begin to play in his mind. Between his hypersensitive hearing and smell he's nearly choked on the panic and fear growing through the Lost Light, but all he wants to focus on is you. A human has precious little in the way of defense, and with every system keeping the ship stable, there's nothing to protect you. The solution is obvious; he has to find you before something else does. When the ground quakes and an incoming transmission threatens the crew he doesn't stick around to hear the enemy gloat. A brief explanation to Megatron is all he offers before taking off, and though he doesn't stick around to see it, his old friend gives him a nod of understanding.

·Distant sounds of metallic warping and the scent of soldering tell him the ship is being breached, but also make it incredibly difficult to pinpoint your location. He's memorized every identifiable feature of yours for moments like this, but the chaos turns the air into a smog of panic, so that it's only the uniqueness of your scent that allows him to find a trail. Faster than most vehicle modes and far more limber, he's an unstoppable blur through the hallways. A path to your shared quarters forms effortlessly in his mind as he passes down the levels.

·Far from your partner, you're still recovering from the bang that shook the entire room you'd been so comfortably set up in. Dazed on the ground, you get your feet beneath you before thoughts return, and the first one is for Ravage. Unfamiliar with space travel, you feel compelled to fear the worst; what if he was too close to whatever just went wrong? Capable as he is, the Felicon isn't immortal. Dead communication lines cement the need for worry in your dizzy head. Careless to the considerable tumble you just endured, you try to think of the best possible response for both your sakes. If he's able to so much as crawl, Ravage will be headed for you, so the best thing to do is make yourself as easy to find as possible. Shallow as that plan may be, it's at least a starting point, and you won't have to go far.

·A trail of claw marks through the hallways marks a tireless and acrobatic flight of barely disguised panic. Ravage takes every possible vent into his olfactory receptors for even the tiniest whiff of you. It's a scent he falls asleep with every night, the familiar yet so unusual mammalian musk soothing him as he curled about your tiny body... Now he's panicking over every tiny whiff, if only because he can't tell if you're really okay. Foreign smells tell of an encroaching enemy spilling into the Lost Light, and from the overpowering rush it appears their numbers are considerable. Some even appear to be moving through the lower levels just a floor or two below... Hulking footsteps that are not Cybertronian register in his sensitive ears, moving with such little grace he can feel them through the floor in his perceptive paws. Anger helps him swallow down some fear. If they want to get between him and his partner, then it's their death wish.

·Finding little to be working reliably, you open the door to your room just wide enough to let you through only after multiple attempts prove unsuccessful. A lifeless but somehow noisy hallway greets you. The sounds of combat are close, or at least, you presume what you're hearing to be combat. Perhaps you hit your head harder than you thought, because thinking through what's going on is far more difficult than it should be. Holding onto the wall for support, you try desperately to think of a plan. Ravage could be anywhere, and with no way to reach him, it's impossible to plan a meet up or even attempt to learn of his status. Yet... these dire thoughts don't invoke the panic they should. It's growing impossible to even stand on your own, and without meaning to you start to lean more of your body against the wall...

·Ravage inevitably is faced with a foe he cannot evade, and for your sake, he charges forward. There's a group of them, all gathered in the only hallway that will take him quickly to your location. He can feel the heat of energy weapons simmering in the air by the time he's upon them. With the element of surprise he's able to unleash incredible damage in his first attack, claws and fangs tearing through protective armor to kill one and severely wound another before they even realize they're being attacked. Bounding between their hulking forms, he faces the one disadvantage he's always endured through combat; his enemies far outscale him. Though his need to protect as well as survive turns him into a living blender, a well placed and simply lucky strike makes painful contact with his back, cracking the armor and bringing forth a spattering of energon.

·Recovering with the aid of his own anger to fuel the final attacks, he fights on with the wound agonizing him all the while, sinking his fangs in deep to take care of the final enemy. It isn't until the last body thunders to the floor that his legs temporarily give way. He's in need of medical attention, but he doesn't dare slow down, or even get a moment of rest. Shaking legs push defiantly to get him upright, and for once he's able to be grateful to have four. The ragged pace he resumes with is only as fast as it is because he knows he's close, as your scent is now clear despite the warring smells of blood and a million other unpleasant odors. Even if all he can do is collapse by your side and keep you company, it will be enough...

·Time seems to stand still when he sees you slumped over by the doorway to the room you two share. Though you're without injuries and the iron rich smell of human blood is undetectable, he knows something is very wrong, and though every motion hurts he bounds to your side. Crying out your name, he gently nudges you with a careful muzzle. Warmth and the rythym of your heart quell his greatest fears just before you open your eyes. Not quite awake, you can only be relieved to see him again, far too out of it to be afraid. At his insistence to move you express a desire to rest instead. No amount of encouragement can seem to make you realize the danger, and thus he's forced to make the decision to move you himself, even if he's in bad shape himself. Clearly, you need more help than he can give.

·You go along as best you can when he insists you ride on his back, and it's only your considerable experience doing so in the past that makes it possible now. He tries to think through the pain, but has little luck imagining what could possibly have done this to you, and his efforts to do so are hampered further as he begins to limp forward. Between energon loss and exhaustion and fear he knows things are looking grim. It tears at him more aggressively than any wound ever could, particularly as he feels you growing weaker against him, and all he can do is beg for you to hold on. You want to, but with his body so close and the rocking of his steps, how can you resist the urge to sleep? Surely everything will be fine when you wake... It's too much for him to endure when you slip into unconsciousness, and his legs give out beneath him. Failure burns in his spark as he tries in vain to keep going, his inability to save you haunting his exhausted body as footsteps draw near.

·It's by fortune he has rarely experienced that you're happened upon by a group of bots led by Megatron. He forces himself to stay awake for your sake, refusing to let anyone separate you so long as you need care. The blur of the medical bay brings comfort only briefly, as when he's informed of the reason behind your struggle he's nearly torn apart by guilt. Seeing you with your oxygen mask confirms his failure to protect the one he holds dearest to his spark. Withdrawing from the world, he allows himself to be patched up before curling himself around your tiny body, all but shielding you from the universe so intent on hurting you both.

·The warmth of his frame so frequently is your first sensation upon waking that you don't realize something is off at first. It isn't until you feel the mask on your face that you remember what happened, but by then Ravage is gently tapping his muzzle against you to confirm everything feels alright. Without promoting, he gives a quick rundown of what led up to this moment. You're wide eyed as he explains the ship's atmospheric shutdown, particularly when he gets to the part where he tried to carry you to safety... The apathy as he recounts it all, however, is far from fitting. Laying a gentle hand on a paw, you ask if something happened that bothered him, and receive confirmation from his silent expression of sadness.

·Initially, he can't bring himself to say what's wrong. On the surface he knows his actions were reasonable, but in his spark... he's so afraid of how his own inability to save you nearly resulted in tragedy. Just the thought of losing you is terrifying enough, but having nearly faced it has rocked him to his core, and he sits in silence under the weight of those emotions. Mercifully, you can read him well enough to not need words. Ravage has always withdrawn when upset, and few things agonize him more than failure.

·Gently as you can, you encourage him to come close, pulling his helm as near to your lap as possible. The sadness in his optics nearly breaks your heart, but you're confident as you speak, thanking him for what he did to save you and insisting you wouldn't be here without him. When he briefly tries to protest, you point out that he likely wouldn't be injured had it not been for you, and he quickly replies that you're worth any scars. When you retort that you feel the same way about him, a small amount of weight appears to leave his shoulders. He recalls that the best part of loving you has always been the freedom to exist as he is, free of pressure, and that he can't be a failure in your eyes so long as he tries. It's simply easy to forget that sometimes... Allowing himself a purr, he uses his tail to most effectively wrap you in his protective body, intent on keeping the both of you safe and warm for some much needed rest. So long as you have each other, there's nothing that can't be overcome.

[quirkswriting]

iida tenya’s guide to physical intimacy for the socially awkward

Overview: Your boyfriend’s been acting a little strange lately... not that you’re jealous or anything, but what’s gotten into your socially conscious (and easily embarrassed) favourite boy and why is he holding Midoriya’s hand instead of your own? Pairing: Iida Tenya x Reader (Aged up Uni/College AU!) Word Count: 4.7k Warning(s): Swearing, a small hint of jealousy? But not gross jealousy Author’s Notes: This has taken me a ridiculous amount of time to finish but it’s here! Part 3 of the soft cuddle series featuring the lovable dork Iida <3

                                                          ***

Iida was annoyed. More than annoyed, really, and starting to verge on frustrated. Not quite upset, but heading in that direction. Which is why he was currently pacing back and forth in the living room of his shared apartment with Midoriya and Todoroki. He’d asked them for advice, calling a roommate meeting in their living room to see if they could help him with his problem.

“You’re wearing a hole in the carpet,” Todoroki said, though he didn’t look up from the book he was reading—something for his Conspiracy Theories class, which had Todoroki the most animated Iida had ever seen him when they’d been discussing the chapter on the Mothman at lunch the day before. So either Todoroki didn’t actually care about the rug or he was too into his reading to push it any further (or possibly a combination of both, seeing as they’d used Todoroki’s father’s credit card to furnish their apartment when they’d moved in and he’d just bought whatever item was the most expensive if Iida or Midoriya didn’t step in with a different opinion). Iida kept pacing anyway, while Midoriya came back from the kitchen with his arms full of snacks and drinks.

“So what’s bugging you, Iida?” He asked, sitting next to Todoroki on the couch. He handed the quiet boy beside him a drink before depositing the rest on the coffee table and taking a drink for himself. Iida finally stopped pacing. He sat down on the plush chair opposite the couch, keeping his back straight as he sank down into the cushion as he looked at his friends. Todoroki was still reading his book, now holding a can of pop in one hand and balancing his book in the other, while Midoriya also had his own can of pop and had popped the tab open and was taking a drink. Iida figured that he may as well tell them.

“I’ve failed as a boyfriend,” he said. Midoriya almost immediately started coughing, choking on his drink. Todoroki dropped his book on his lap and began to pound the smaller man on the back to try and help clear his airway. It took almost a minute before Midoriya stopped coughing and gently pushed Todoroki away.

“What do you mean, ‘failed as a boyfriend’?” Midoriya asked, red starting to fade from his face. Iida sighed, slumping his shoulders and resting his hands on his knees.

“I… want to take the next step in my relationship with (Y/N) and I just haven’t been able to do it,” he told his friends, looking down at his sock feet. “I’ve been researching the best methods for physical intimacy. I’ve read all of the books I could find in the library and I’ve tried looking up information online and I’ve learned quite a lot but every time I try and put it into practice it doesn’t work.”

“You’ve been reading books on physical intimacy?” Midoriya asked, and Iida could hear the crack in his voice. Iida felt his own cheeks grow warm as he looked up from his feet to his friends. Midoriya was trying very hard to keep a smile off his face, while Todoroki was clearing his throat—and sounding suspiciously like he was snorting into his hand. It took an embarrassingly long thirty seconds for Iida to realize what they were thinking, and when he did his eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Not that kind of physical intimacy!” Iida said, waving his hands in front of him. That just seemed to amuse his friends even more and he really hoped they never told you that this conversation happened (but given how close you were with Midoriya he really wasn’t going to hold his breath). “I want to, you know, I’d like to initiate… you know, when you see couples? And they’re not being inappropriate but they’re showing more affection than I’m comfortable doing in public, do you know what I mean?” He was gesturing vaguely and his voice was trailing off towards the end of his sentence, but judging by the way Midoriya’s face lit up, Iida knew he’d made some semblance of sense.

“Oh, Iida, you want to be cuddly with (Y/N)! Oh thank goodness, when you said you’d failed as a boyfriend I thought you’d cheated on them,” Midoriya said, scratching the back of his head. Iida started sputtering, but Midoriya held his hands up in front of his face before his glasses wearing friend could say anything. “I know you wouldn’t though! It’s okay! But it’s that kind of physical intimacy. That’s… that’s a really weird way of putting it. You can just call it PDA, you know? Normal people usually do.”

Iida must have looked as confused as he felt, because Todoroki followed up with, “Public displays of affection,” before draping his arm over the back of the couch and just over Midoriya’s shoulders so that his fingertips were ever so slightly brushing the fabric of Midoriya’s shirt. Now it was the green haired young man’s turn to blush a soft pink. Iida couldn’t help raising an eyebrow and Todoroki cleared his throat. “This… is an example. Of that. I’m giving you an example.”

Well, at least now Iida had something to tell you later. That would hopefully cancel out whatever Midoriya was going to tell you had happened at his apartment today.

“Wait, hold on, if you’re not comfortable doing that in public why are you researching it?” Midoriya asked, his face still pink while he made no move to shy away from his roommate. Iida fidgeted slightly in the chair, relaxing his posture just a bit. He’d been raised with certain expectations in place; to be a proper young man, he had to treat his partners with respect and dignity and treasure them where they are meant to be treasured. He was taught to keep private things private, at home, where it was safe and sacred and just that much more intimate because it was shared between the two of them. That’s how his parents had been, a very ‘behind closed doors’ sort of couple. Hell, Iida could count the number of times he’d seen his own parents kiss on one hand! But he knew you’d been raised differently; that for you, casual intimacy was ingrained into who you were—and he wanted to be part of that too. Even if it was slightly unnerving for him.

Thinking about you brought a smile to Iida’s face, and he looked back down at his hands as they sat folded in his lap. “Because… I know (Y/N) would like it. And I want them to be happy.” He could imagine how you’d look, how happy you’d be in his arms at the movies, or with your hands wrapped around his arm while you were walking in the park, or any other scenario from the multitudes of books he’s read and movies he’s watched over the last few weeks. And while the images were perfect in his head... “But every time I try I always manage to mess it up. And then I try harder and I end up making it worse!” Iida dropped his head low and brought his hands up to cover his face.

“I don’t know, maybe… just kinda go with the flow?” Midoriya suggested, and then Iida felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He took a deep breath and looked up into the freckled face of his best friend, who had moved from his spot beside Todoroki to come and sit cross legged on the floor in front of Iida with a smile on his face. “Just do what feels natural. Or, you know, don’t try so hard with (Y/N). Literally everyone knows how much you guys like each other.”

“To quote Bakugou, the two of you are, ��Absolutely disgusting with all that lovey-dovey bullshit’,” Todoroki piped up, doing a very deadpan impersonation of the hot-tempered blond. Midoriya snorted, and Iida felt himself crack a small smile. Todoroki then continued, “And if Bakugou can tell how much the two of you like each other, then it’s probably a good idea to listen to Midoriya about this. (Y/N) picked you, after all, knowing who you are and how you handle situations. Even after what happened in the dorms on—”

“Todoroki! Do not finish that sentence,” Iida said, waving his hands again. He had absolutely no desire to talk about the reason the three of them were currently required to live in an off campus apartment together. He’d much rather focus on the problem at hand. Midoriya snorted louder this time, and Todoroki went back to his book. “It’s not that I’m doubting my feelings for (Y/N) or their feelings for me, it’s about… it’s about me having no idea how I’m supposed to ‘Go with the flow’ because every time I try I just get so flustered it ends in disaster and I don’t know how I’m supposed to get better!”

Todoroki dogeared his page and closed his book once more, letting it rest on his lap. “Practice makes perfect,” he said. “You just have to keep working at it. Eventually you’ll get better. Less stiff. Like when you oil your joints to keep yourself in prime condition.” Midoriya coughed to cover what Iida knew was a laugh, and the blue haired man rolled his eyes.

“Practice with who? There are only so many times I can knock over a table when I go out with (Y/N). We’re running out of restaurants we can go to,” he said. It was starting to become a problem, honestly. He thought for a moment, studying his friends, before an idea started to take shape in his mind. These were his roommates, he trusted them, and they were some of the people who he was most comfortable with aside from you… Maybe this could work. “Unless… I practiced with the two of you?”

“With us? No way!” Midoriya’s eyes were wider than what seemed to be humanly possible, and Todoroki was shaking his head. Iida moved from his chair to come and kneel in front of his friends and place his hands on their shoulders.

Iida looked between his friends, his lips set in a firm line. “Think of (Y/N)! Do it for them!” He encouraged them. “Please? You’re the only ones who can help me now.” There was a tense silence for a moment as Midoriya and Todoroki looked to each other and communicated silently. Todoroki broke eye contact first, and his brows were furrowed as he turned to stare Iida down.

“No one tells anyone that we’re doing this,” Todoroki said, and Iida knew he’d won.

Now all he had to do was put his research into practice. And hopefully not cover his friends in their food when he tried.

                                                               ——

You walked into one of the coffee shops on campus, the cozy one beside the library (not the overpriced one next to the dorms or the super busy one in the community centre) on your way to get some studying done. Your afternoon class was cancelled (Professor Nemuri had emailed the class halfway through your last lecture and you almost cried out of pure relief) and with two tests and a paper due next week you were going to make the most of the time you had. Or, well, you’d try and that was the best you could really do. But you had your headphones in as you got in line to order, you thought of one way you could try and keep yourself on track; invite your boyfriend to come and study with you. You knew his class schedule and he didn’t have anything this afternoon so he might be willing to help you get more done than you would on your own. So you took your phone out of your pocket, moving forward as the person in front of you got closer to the counter, and typed out a message.

‘Hey, my afternoon class got cancelled, wanna come study with me in the library? Study snacks are on me this time!’ you sent, and just like usual you had a response almost right away.

‘Ah, I’m sorry to hear about that (Y/N)! I would be more than happy to study with you this weekend, but I’m afraid I have plans today.’ You frowned, but you knew it was a little last minute anyway. And only your boyfriend would be sad to hear that class was cancelled. You sent off a few sad faces but told him that it was okay, and put your phone back in your pocket. The line moved forward again, and you couldn’t help but look around the coffee shop while you waited. There wasn’t anything too interesting happening at the occupied tables and you almost sighed out loud before you noticed a familiar mop of red and white hair in the back on the side opposite you.

There he was, Tenya Iida, your socially conservative boyfriend, practically cuddled up with his roommates (and your friends) Midoriya and Todoroki in a small booth on the other side of the coffee shop. If any of them looked up and over they would definitely see you, but they seemed to be pretty engrossed in whatever they were talking about so you doubted they’d notice unless you caught their attention. You wished you were a little closer so you could hear what they were saying.

You saw Tenya, the pink flush on his cheeks visible even though he was on the other side of the coffee shop, hesitantly reach over and place his hand on top of Midoriya’s own. You could swear your own jaw dropped and your mouth hung open while you watched. You felt a small pang in your chest watching him hold Midoriya’s hand, and you bit your bottom lip. Tenya was allowed to do whatever he wanted, he was his own person and you trusted him, but seeing him openly affectionate with Midoriya? In public? When you knew how private your boyfriend was and how uncomfortable PDA made him? Your mind was swirling with questions that you absolutely wanted answers to and as much as you were going to deny it, you were just a tiny bit jealous. But you definitely didn’t take any pleasure when, not even a moment later, something Todoroki said caused Tenya to jump and his drink to spill down his front. Nope, no pleasure at all (But you’d remember to give him some stain remover next time you saw him).

You heard someone clear their throat, and you turned from the sight capturing your attention to see the cashier looking expectantly at you. You moved forward, scratching at the side of your neck as you placed your order and paid for it. You moved off to the side and waited patiently for the barista to finish preparing your drink for you—they were as quick as usual, and you couldn’t help but look back to where your boyfriend and his roommates were sitting as you were leaving. They looked completely normal now, no evidence anything had happened except for a small pile of napkins you could see at the edge of the table. You pursed your lips as you left and headed to the library.

But even after you’d secured a table and laid everything out to attempt to have a productive afternoon (before falling victim to Netflix) you couldn’t get the image out of your head and the more you thought about it, the less sense it made. You’d long given up on your test prep and had been staring at a blank laptop screen for the last half hour. Or, well, it felt like half an hour (but had only been about seven minutes). This was going to be a long afternoon and it had only just begun.

Just what the hell had happened?

                                                       ——

You caught Tenya with Midoriya and Todoroki once again, a few days later, when you were picking up dinner in the dining hall for you and Tsuyu. The two of you were going to binge a new anime together and it was your turn to grab food while she was getting everything set up for your hangout session tonight.

It was the same kind of thing this time, except instead of holding Midoriya’s hand Tenya was attempting to put his arm around Todoroki’a shoulders. It looked so awkward and yet so endearing, but that didn’t stop you frowning. You felt your stomach twist and turn as you wrapped your arms around yourself as you watched your boyfriend talk and laugh and look so much more comfortable and relaxed than you’d ever seen him in public. You couldn’t write this off as a one time thing (which is what you’d done with the coffee shop incident, and was how you justified not talking to him about it before now) because he just looked so natural sitting there.

Part of you really wanted to walk up to them and find out what the hell was going on, but you didn’t. Tsuyu was waiting, after all, and the rational part of you argued that there had to be a good explanation for all of this. Plus, even if it wasn’t with you, seeing your normally stiff boyfriend so relaxed was something that made you the tiniest bit happy. So, with the knots still stretching and twisting your stomach, you went and grabbed the requested food and spent your night with your roommate. There had to be some kind of logical explanation… right?

                                                          ——

Things finally came to head about a week later when you and Tenya were spending a Saturday night in your apartment. Tsuyu was out with her girlfriend so you had the place to yourself, and you’d invited Tenya over for dinner to spend time together. And, if you could figure out the right way to word it, to find out why he’d been acting so strange with his roommates.

The two of you made dinner together—or, well, you threw whatever leftovers were in your fridge together to make a semi-decent meal so you wouldn’t have to order in again while the two of you decided on something to watch on Netflix. You’d kept yourself busy from the moment you’d buzzed him up, pouring drinks and getting food ready and only speaking to ask him to hand you something or answer something he asked. Tenya kept moving closer to you, but you kept finding reasons to move away from him; until you figured out how you were going to ask him why he was suddenly cuddle buddies with his roommate, you didn’t want to risk letting him see any kind of physical indicator that you were jealous… er, not jealous, but curious. That’s what you were telling yourself.

You managed to get dinner cooked (and the parts you made were actually pretty tasty this time) and the two of you sunk down into the living room couch to watch a movie (because Tenya refused to let you eat in bed so you had to make do until your food was finished) with Tenya occupying the middle and you claiming your favourite side of the couch and the best mismatched pillows to curl up with. The two of you had finally settled on Whisper of the Heart with a promise of watching Avatar later on (“I must find out what happens at the Boiling Rock, (Y/N)!”) after you’d finished eating. But you didn’t even make it ten minutes into the movie before Tenya was placing his plate on the coffee table in front of you both.

“I can tell something is bothering you,” Tenya said. You pursed your lips but didn’t say anything, and he sighed. “Please tell me what’s going on. Is it your paper? I meant it when I said your conclusion was beautifully written, and I’m sure Professor Yamada is going to agree with me.”

Well, you couldn’t have asked for a better way to broach the subject if you tried. You put your own plate down on the coffee table as well (balancing it on your lap was probably not a good idea this time) and turned to face your boyfriend before you opened your mouth and words started rumbling out. “Look, I know that it’s none of my business and I have no idea what was going on but I saw what you were doing with Midoriya and Todoroki,” you said. You began twisting your hands in your lap. Tenya brought his own hand up to cover his mouth as he stared at you. “In the coffee shop, Tenya. And then again in the dining hall in the community centre. I saw you guys… you know. Being a lot closer in public than I’ve ever seen you before with anyone and it’s just been bugging me, Tenya, because you told me you don’t like that stuff.”

“...it was for you,” he admitted. His voice was quiet, and he’d moved his hand down to rest on his chin. His body slumped forward, and you watched your boyfriend’s shoulders sag even further than they already were. You shifted closer to him, scooting a little farther down the couch.

“I don’t get it.” You were a little unclear as to what you had to do with him holding someone else’s hand in public. Especially because it was someone else’s hand, not yours. Tenya sighed.

“Look, what I mean to say is… they were helping me practice. For you,” he told you, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose. You knew your eyebrows were up near your hairline, and his slowly reddening cheeks exposed just how embarrassed he was. “I wanted to be more comfortable showing you affection in public and Midoriya and Todoroki were helping me do that. So I could be a better boyfriend for you and show you the affection I know you want and deserve. And so I can stop knocking tables over when we go out.” That got a small laugh out of you, and you saw some of the tension slip out of Tenya’s shoulders as he sat up and relaxed against the back of the couch.

“You’re already the best boyfriend I could ask for,” you told him, and you held your hand out towards him with your palm up. He placed his own on top of it and threaded your fingers together before giving it a light squeeze. “Just because you’d rather be cuddly in private doesn’t mean I think you’re a bad boyfriend. I want to respect your boundaries too. But it’s really sweet that you want to do that for me, even if you did use Midoriya and Todoroki to help you do that. In public. Where I saw you.”

Tenya tilted his head to the side, his eyes studying your expression carefully, before a smile started turning the corners of his lips up. “Were you jealous, love?” he asked, and you avoided his eyes. He squeezed your hand again and brought it up to his lips. That got you to look at him, and he pressed a soft kiss to each of your knuckles. “Midoriya’s hand wasn’t even close to being as nice as yours. His were a little chapped, I’m worried about them. Maybe you should get him some of that lotion you use for his birthday.”

This was the Tenya you knew in private, who did enjoy showing you love and care and affection (you know, once you’d both passed the whole awkward first stage of dating and he realized that you were in it for the long term with him, even after the Spider Incident™ and the boys in his year being asked to move into private residences) and you couldn’t help but lean closer to him and curl up next to his side. It was ridiculously sweet that he’d done that for you.

And, of course, now that you’d both talked it out you decided it was time to have a little fun with him. “So that was why you’ve been so weird lately? I thought midterms had caused your wires to get crossed,” you said. You smiled at him while he rolled his eyes. “Or maybe the coffee you spilled on yourself fried your motherboard.”

“Oh you’re very original, (Y/N), so funny,” he said. “I’ll have you know I got that stain out, thank you. And it was tea, you know I don’t drink coffee.” Which, as someone who enjoyed 8am lectures, you had literally no idea how he survived on tea and water. Your boyfriend was definitely some kind of robot. You had yet to prove it, but no one could function as well as he did and not be at least part machine (not that you minded, exactly).

“We really should get you a waterproof case. Maybe an otterbox? They come in all sorts of cute colours,” you told him, reaching forward to grab your plate. Dinner was probably lukewarm at best at this point, but you’d eat it either way with minimal complaining. Tenya did the same with his plate, a smile on his face as he stayed close to you—but still made sure there was enough room so you didn’t elbow each other.

You both ate in comfortable silence for a moment, before another thought occurred to you. “You know, I only saw you and the boys twice… just how long did this go on for?” you asked, and Tenya cleared his throat and grabbed the remote to play the movie. You tried to grab it, but he moved it out of reach and, not wanting to risk dropping your dinner, you elbowed him in the side before he played the movie and turned the volume up loud enough to ensure silence, at least for a little while.

You got an answer out of him later, when the two of you were laying in bed watching some life changing field trips with Zuko, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of love for the man with his arms wrapped around you and whispering a million and one questions about how the Fire Nation prison and law enforcement systems must work because all he wanted was for you to be happy. You’d never want to ask for anything more.

                                                          ——

Bonus! Epilogue:

You and Tenya were out for lunch on campus with Midoriya and Todoroki a few days later, your boyfriend proudly holding your hand above the table as you talked about funny stories from Midoriya’s EMR course (“Professor Shuzenji asked us what we would do when we respond to a call and find someone with a stab wound and someone seriously shouted ‘Call 911!’ and she actually yelled back ‘YOU ARE 911!’”) and you couldn’t help but smile and be thankful for your boyfriend and your friends and how lucky you are. But as the conversation dwindled, you also knew some words were in order with the two men across from you and Tenya.

“So Tenya told me what you guys were doing. You know, how you were canoodling my boyfriend,” you told the two of them, and you couldn’t help snorting just a little when Midoriya started sputtering and Todoroki dropped his chopsticks.

“We agreed we wouldn’t tell anyone!” Midoriya said, looking at Tenya with his brows furrowed and his mouth pulled down into a frown. You could feel Tenya’s shoulders shake next to you, and it made the smile on your face get even bigger.

“Hey, we were doing it to help you,” Todoroki said. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Iida asked us, if I remember correctly, and we were trying to be good friends.” Tenya shrugged, putting his free hand in the air.

“Yeah he did, but you still agreed to it. And I know you guys and I know you had to be making fun of him too. So if I’m gonna poke fun at him for it then it’s only fair you guys get some of that too,” you said. You leaned forward in your seat, smiling at the green haired male, and then at the two-toned Todoroki in front of you. “So who are we going to start with first? Clammy hands Todoroki, or Midoriya ‘I don’t know how to take care of my skin’ Izuku?” And then you started cackling loudly as they started to protest and draw the attention of everyone else at nearby tables.

Oh, this was going to entertain you for a long time and you were going to love every minute of it.

[cotillion-the-rope]

Not a Sibling

I wanted to write a thing featuring Nosk for Halloween because Nosk is a spooky fellow. Initially I tried to write Ghost's encounter with Nosk but then I realized they probably wouldn't be all that scared, they're used to darkness and things attacking them. Then I was thinking about perhaps writing Hollow encountering Winged Nosk after getting lost in Deepnest somehow. But it just wasn't working, in part because it would have to be Hollow before being placed in the Void Egg due the fact that every scenario where they're freed from it involves the Radiance no longer being a thing. And then I remembered the vessel hanging in the background of Nosk's boss room and that's how this quite sad fic came to be. Happy Halloween though.

~

The darkness here wasn’t at all like the familiar darkness of the Abyss. The Abyss was quiet, filled with little more than Void and siblings. This place however, its darkness hid things. Things that skittered loudly all around and made other noises the vessel couldn’t identify.

Maybe escaping wasn’t worth it after all and they should return to the Abyss. Perhaps the reason everyone who’d left the Abyss never returned wasn’t because they’d found happiness out here somewhere but because something in this unfriendly foreign darkness had consumed them. Perhaps there was nothing but this and the Abyss. … No, couldn’t be; light and the beings that resided within it existed somewhere too. So if nothing else, there was at least one more place and if that was the case surely there was more, right?

Also, they’d gone far enough now that they doubted they could find the tunnel that would lead back to the Abyss. So they continued on, keeping one hand on the cave wall as a guide.

The going was slow. They’d already fallen into holes twice, thankfully taking little damage and neither hole was deep enough that they couldn’t clamber back out and continue trying to go uphill. But their luck wasn’t likely to hold so they crept along, feeling out each step before placing any weight down. They tried not to think about the skittering things. That was hard though when they were everywhere, occasionally even passing by close enough for the vessel to feel the wind of the passage or, even worse, the brush of their carapaces against their own. Just a quick brush, never long enough to get a feel for what their shape or true size might be.

They were about ready to lash out at the next thing that passed by so close when they turned a corner and were suddenly granted with the ability to see. They’d witnessed light a grand total of two times in however long their life had been. The first time had been when the Void’s Enemy had roared down at them and the Void had roared back, quickly pushing her light away. And the second time had been when the Door had opened and pure white light had shone down, promising freedom and life; many siblings had died trying to reach it. This light was nothing like either of those lights though. It was much dimmer and held no intention or promises.

The vessel rushed over to investigate its source. A small transparent orb with a nub and handle on top that lay on the ground next to a desiccated corpse. They’d never seen a being like that before but it was dead and they were much more interested in the light.

They picked it up for a better look. Tiny glowing bugs flew around inside it. A few were dead, lying unlit or barely so at the bottom. Despite that, it was pretty. The prettiest thing the vessel had ever seen. Oh, how much prettier would it be when it was full of glowing bugs, no dead ones? How much brighter? Perhaps if they were lucky, they’d get a chance to…

The corpse moved. With a horrible crackling sound, it sprouted legs, lifting itself up on wobbly limbs. The vessel sprang back, barely dodging its attempt to bite. Clutching the pretty light, they ran, going past it because no way were they backtracking. They almost paid for it as its leg caught on their cloak. Thankfully it ripped allowing them to go free. Which would’ve been great except for the fact it gave chase, skittering and clacking right behind them.

They didn’t dare look back, instead looking forward. The light helped a lot, saving them from running into walls or holes and they ran. The downside though was now they caught brief glimpses of the skittering things before they fled the light with hisses. Angering them probably wasn’t a good thing but the vessel had no real choice if they wanted to be able to see well enough to escape their pursuer.

It might not matter much though. They were quickly tiring. Their initial burst of speed had gained them some distance from the animated corpse husk but it was quickly dwindling, the clack of its limbs getting closer every second. Any second now its mouth would close on their…

The ground gave out beneath them, sending them tumbling through the air in a cloud of loose dirt and rocks. They clutched their light close even though it did nothing for them as they fell for what felt like forever. … What if they were falling back into the…

They landed hard but uninjured. What had once been the above tunnel’s flooring fell around them. Something much heavier landed behind them with a loud crunching splat. They jumped around lifting the light up.

The husk had been far less lucky than them. Not only had its heavier size made the faller harder for it, snapping one of its long thin legs, but also a hefty rock had landed squarely on it. It was still alive though, squirming and flailing, clacking its mandibles at the vessel in seeming frustration and mindless fury.

Not wanting to tempt fate, the vessel turned and ran as fast as their little legs could carry them, holding the light close to their body so it hopefully wouldn’t be visible past their body. They kept going at that pace until the sound of the husk’s struggles wasn’t even a distant echo anymore.

They sat to rest, leaning their back against the tunnel wall. Well that was one danger they’d survived. Without taking any real damage too, how lucky for them. How many more dangers and deadly creatures would they have to face before finding somewhere safe? Assuming a safe place even existed out here. … Regardless escaping the Abyss was worth risking the danger. Why exactly, they weren’t sure, but it didn’t matter much.

-

Unwilling to risk staying in one spot for too long they only rested until they’d recentered themself mentally before getting up and continuing on.

It was quieter and calmer down here. The skittering of unseen things could still heard but distantly. And nothing brushed past them or even into the edges of their dim little light. Nice but they’d fallen to get here, erasing much of their upwards progress. Meaning they’d have to ascend all that way again. Oh well, it had gotten them out of the husk’s mandibles and that was…

They skidded to a halt. Through their periphery, did they really just see… They back peddled a couple steps to look down the small side tunnel they’d just passed. A short distance down it, barely in range of their light, stood another vessel, staring at them. Awesome! Either a guide out of this wretched place or if nothing else a companion in finding an exit.

The vessel rushed towards them, eager for company and possibly some physical contact if the sibling was all right with that too. But the sibling rushed too, heading further down the tunnel. Leading the way out perhaps?

They hurried after them, barely managing to keep them in sight. Often they lost sight of them entirely but lucky there were few turns in the tunnel, making catching up to them quite easy. The sibling even stopped and waited for them every so often, never letting them get close though. Which was a bit odd but the vessel didn’t care, they wanted out of this horrible place as soon as possible.

Eventually the little tunnel opened up into a large cavern, too big for the light to reach its confines. A platform rose up in what was presumably the center. The sibling waited atop it. Upon reaching them, they didn’t turn and run as they’d ever time prior.

Instead… their neck snapped, twisting around and upside down with an awful cracking sound. Their… its formed shifted sprouting legs, larger than even the husk’s had been earlier. Not a sibling at all!

The vessel turned and ran. Only to smack into a thick webbing that had somehow stretched over the tunnel’s entrance. Before they could try to pull it off or decide to rush to find another exit something sharp pierced them from behind, pushing through their body and briefly pining them to the ground before withdrawing.

Form pierced, void oozed out of them as they fell forward, curling around the agony. Something pushed into their shell next, cracking it, allowing more void to leak out. It was too much, way too much. The pain was already starting to fade though as they lacked the strength and willpower to hold any part of their form together, the void making it dispersing instead.

They’d failed. Not surprising really but still disappointing. They weren’t even going to get a good view of their killer. But at least the little light bugs fluttering around in the clear ball lying on the ground directly in their line of sight was still the prettiest thing they’d ever seen. There were probably worse last sights. But still, if only they’d been able to…

[golddaggers]

girl crush

pairing: best friend!harry styles x reader;

warnings: none really just a smidge of angst but plenty of fluff. 

a/n: so here we are! i just ask of you to go kind on me because this is my first time, ok? and sort of self indulging. anyway. leave a comment/reblog if you do like it!

word count: about 2,8k. it’s a quick little thing.

It was a typical Tuesday, I’d woken up, drank my large-sized cup of coffee, and then spent almost five hours straight staring at my computer screens. Not that all of those hours had been any good, I searched and searched, but still hadn’t cracked just how I was supposed to solve the problem. Hell, about three times I was yelling at the machine, calling it ‘bloody stupid’ before trying another approach, still proven worthless. 

Lunch had been skipped, I barely took a bite of my grilled sandwich before diving back to the code lines, analysing. I’ve always been so good at cracking things, finishing hard puzzles… At least I needn’t worry about a deadline breathing down my neck, this particular feature would only be out to the end-users on the major release. 

Either way, the idea of not being able to come up with a solution bugged me. I could never leave things well enough alone if they were unsolved. It was only when one of my friends texted me about some old high school chick we both used to hate that was pregnant that I realised how late it was. My back hurt from spending too much time sitting down on my chair and I could feel my eyes tired, staring at a computer screen for so many hours wasn’t exactly too healthy. 

At least it put the tornado of thoughts I’ve been having for the past couple of weeks to ease. I didn’t want to think about how I had the worst timing ever. Or how I was a big coward for keeping this to myself. 

But… I couldn’t just tell him. Falling in love with your best friend seems easy in the movies, in reality, I was overwhelmed with anxiety. Harry and I grew up together, we were inseparable from the first time we shared toys in our old town’s playground. Never before I would’ve thought I’d be here, with butterflies rioting in my stomach when he flashed his green eyes at me. It’d be easy if I could just open up, only opening up meant I could lose our 20 and something years of friendship. That was just too much to lose.  

Now it seemed as if I had lost my chance. He’d gone out on a date with a girl. They’d been going out for a while. She was… breathtaking. Golden hair, brown eyes, freckles, and a body I wouldn’t ever have. Harry wasn’t the easiest to commit to someone, not that he was a womaniser or something within those lines… He just had problems. Like we all do, I suppose. He seemed genuinely interested in her, though, and it killed me inside to realise it. 

I looked toward a corner where a tiny pink ukulele rested and decided I could do with some singing. So I go over to pick it up, playing a couple of notes to see if it was tuned. It’d been a while since I last took it between my hands. Hadn’t enough time to do anything, if I was being honest. 

Sat back on my chair, I take my time to reminisce over a song I heard him humming a few days ago. Harry had been doing the dishes, something he hated, but I’d cooked for the two of us, so it was the least he could do. He laughed like a child all the way to the sink, even put on my pink apron. It wasn’t unusual for him to do them when he was in fact at home - which happened only a few handfuls of weeks at a time. 

Leaning against the counter top, I watched him. Then the humming began. One would think a singer would get enough on the stage, well, maybe they do, not him though. In the shower, sending texts, doing the dishes… Harry was always singing something. Low and more to himself. I couldn’t lie, even if I wanted to, that I love when he’s home, his entire being enough to warm up the place. 

That night I had been wearing one of his old tees, he leaves them everywhere. And it wasn’t unusual for me to “steal” some for myself, besides being comfy, especially the cotton sweaters, they all smelt like him. Felt homely to be inside them, as if he were sleeping next to me. 

“I’ve got a girl crush…” I start, unsure if I’ve got the tone right, “Hate to admit it, but I got a heart rush, it ain’t slowing down.”

My legs are crisscrossed as I rest further back onto the black cushion of my chair. Each note fueled the turmoil growing inside my chest. It was so true, every time I looked at her, the pictures on her Instagram were flawless… I wanted to have everything she had. Because if I did, maybe he would look at me differently, he’d see me in a different light. 

The very instrument on my hands had been a gift from him. I have always enjoyed playing the guitar, I came to write a few songs myself… But I’ve never seen it as something I’d want to do for a living. Didn’t like the spotlight very much, not that being friends with a worldwide known popstar helped. Paps seemed to be everywhere. It was just annoying how we couldn’t enjoy a single outing without being awakened with a buzzing phone. My other friends texting me the several headlines saying “Harry Styles has been seen yet again with childhood best friend, could they be dating?”

Got worse when we moved in together. The thing was… We didn’t really live together, yes, the house, more like a mansion if I was being honest, belonged to him and he stayed there whenever he was in London, which, if he was working too much, seldom happened. So no, we didn’t live together. Harry just thought it’d be nice for me to stay there since it was so empty all the time and I only said yes because I needed saving money to pay off the loan I had taken to cover my university tuition. It felt like a lifetime away. 

I stayed because I had grown spoiled. At first, I was annoyed he didn’t let me pay for the expenses whenever he was away, I was nowhere rich, but now I made more than enough to cover the bills, even for a house as big as this one, since most of it was inhabited. He insisted on me keeping it, doing fun things I wanted to do, and I shouldn’t worry about anything else. A couple of months later, I saw the appeal to his offer. I also knew my best friend well to know he was a stubborn son of a bitch.  

Everything changed when Harry told me about his golden girl. After so many years, we had grown aware of the other’s quirks, as I like to put it, we knew how to deal with one another. My point being was… Harry could be a bit sensitive when I told him about my dates, now it lights a spark of hope within me, back then, however, I brushed it off as him trying to act as a protective big brother. He, on the other hand, never had problems when talking about the people he dated to me. Often I wouldn’t care. This time… It happened right after the fatidic Tuesday. 

The pain stung like a sharp edge of a knife against my heart.  

“I wanna’ taste her lips, yeah, ‘cos they taste like you… I wanna’ drown myself in a bottle of her perfume...” The notes come out soft, I can hear a little metallic sound as my hands switch the notes and I keep singing the sad lyrics, “Yeah, ‘cos maybe then, you’d want me just as much...” 

“Thought I had a nightingale in this room,” His accent slipped through the sentence like butter on a warm toast, “‘lo, love.”

His presence startled me, I almost dropped the ukulele. It was way too early for him to be back home from his date. Part of me wanted to ask how it’d gone and in any other situation, I would’ve. Not tonight, though. Didn’t wanna know if she had kissed him good night. If he gave her his signature green-eyed glare when he wanted something… If he’d asked for another date. My heart wouldn’t be able to cope. 

“You scared me.” 

“I reckon you said I was fit like a daydream,” He stuffed his chest and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Are you actually quoting your ex-girlfriend?” Harry rolled his eyes, dismissing my comment completely, “Why are you home already?”

“D’ya want me to leave?”

“You are ridiculous,” I say as I stand up, the Fleetwood Mac tee I had on falling to my mid thighs. It was oversized because it didn’t belong to me,  which doesn’t go unnoticed by him, who has a cheeky grin directed at me. “Stop looking. You keep ditching them and I just happen to like these shirts.”

“I didn’t say anything, doll. But I was looking for that one, though I settled for that old pink striped sweater of yours.”

“So it’s with you?” My indignation seeps through, “I went nutty looking for that.”

“Looks better on me anyway.”

“Nonsense.”

The laughter shakes his whole body, yet again I am plowed with our childhood memories, that right there hadn’t changed. Harry still laughed like a little child, a boy with his blue truck toy. I felt warm inside, to watch him like that. To still have, after so long, a friend like he was to me.  

Harry goes quiet then, bright green staring right at me. I know what’s coming. It’s happened before - I sang about the boys I liked quite often, I suppose. So it was obvious he wanted to know who was stealing my attention this time. He wanted to know who I was singing about. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Wha’? I didn’t even open my mouth.” 

“I know you,” Back on my feet, I grab my plate with the remains of what was supposed to be my lunch and head out to the kitchen. He followed me around like a stray puppy. 

The kitchen is an enormous place. Wooden cupboards with just about every piece of china one could dream of, fine crystal glasses for wine and champagne, bowls, plates, even goblets could be found. Inside the several drawers, besides the silver cutlery, I had managed to fold some table sheets I bought at a flea market. Harry would lose his mind if he knew where they came from. On the left corner, a tall two-door grey fridge, with a shopping list on its door to remind me that I needed to go out tomorrow to get things. Next to the two basin sink, was an electric cooktop that had become my best friend, I loved to cook there, staring out the window - the yard was beautiful, green grass all year long, though during spring the most gorgeous flowers blossomed. I loved that place very much.

Right in the middle was an island, my lone cactus trying to make it a little less plain. Which wasn’t that hard, the dark marble surface glimmered under the led light.  

After I threw out the sandwich and put the plate on the sink, I started pacing around to gather things for dinner, fresh tomatoes to make the sauce with homegrown onions and garlic. I liked cultivating my food. I got flour, eggs, olive oil, and salt. It was all I needed to make the dough.  

I could still feel his eyes on me, as I moved effortlessly through his kitchen, collecting everything I needed. 

“What do you want?”

“You’re too stressed,” Harry says, standing up straight and standing next to me, “Is it about the boy you were singing about? Or girl. I dunno.”

“Seriously?” Can’t help but shake my head, “That’s your approach? ’M not telling you, H.”

“Oh, you’re keepin’ secrets from me. That’s new.”

He grabs the knife on my hand, starting to chop the onion into tiny cubes. Always skillful with his hands, he was.

“‘M not keeping secrets. It’s just none of your business.” 

“Ouch.” Harry pours the onion into the pan, stealing the tomatoes to start chopping them as well. I focused on the dough. “You’re so adamant about not telling me I’ll start thinking it’s me.” 

The entire world stills for me when he says that out loud, and I don’t know what to say, so I keep cracking the eggs, pouring them over the flour then adding, by eye, what I considered to be enough of olive oil. At last, I put two pinches of salt into the mix.  

My silence seems to annoy him further. 

“C’mon, it was a joke.” He tries, gently grabbing my arm and I see myself having to stop mixing, “I really want to know, though, have to make sure you’re with someone worthy of you.”

“Why?”

Couldn’t look him in the eye, I have them glued to the bowl with the sticky batter. The hand on my arm sneaks to my back, he’s warm and I tremble under his touch, my breath comes out a bit harsher. 

Harry takes a deep breath before answering, “I care about you, bunny.”

“Is that all it is?” Now I dare to look up, to find those emeralds. I liked quite a lot to look at them, they were akin to shiny jewelry and I was the dazzled child. Right now they showed nothing but a shade of confusion. 

“What else?”

A tightness in my chest grows, I know right away I am about to cry and I don’t want to. Don’t want to fall apart in front of him. In the middle of cooking. When things seemed to be going amazing for the two of us. Despite my most intimate wishes, I ended up doing just that, my dirty hands falling limp as he held me in his arms, asking over and over what had happened. 

His chin rests on the top of my head and I can hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. My bottom lip is quivering. I was so tired of being tough, I just wanted to be loved. To be loved by him. 

“I need to tell you something,” A sniff makes me sound whiny, “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Never,” Harry speaks so quietly I believe him. “Could never be mad at you, bunny.”

“Okay…” 

I bring his much bigger hands into my own. They warm up under his touch. If I’m being honest, I warm up completely. Body and soul. He gives a soft squeeze, urging me to speak. It’s needless to say that he’s anxious, always being the curious one between the two of us.

“The song… Well, um, I was singing for you.” It was as quiet as a whisper, “I like you.”

“Don’t be silly.” His face goes serious, “You’re not kidding me, are ya?”

“Do you think I would?”

There’s a lump at the bottom of my throat, tears still falling. I didn’t have a problem being vulnerable with him, or opening up - now I was embarrassed. I would apologise if I hadn’t felt his warm lips start kissing my salty-teared cheeks, only to finish up with a chaste kiss on my own. 

“What are you doing?” I pull back, shocked that he’d kissed me. “Do you...”

“I am so glad you’ve said first, fancying you for the longest time hasn’t been easy. But I suppose it gave me quite the inspiration.”

“You’ve written about me?”

“More times than I am proud to admit.”

This time it’s me who kisses him, standing on the tip of my toes, losing my fingers into the soft curls. It seemed very much unreal to me. He never struck me as the type to keep feelings in check or to himself. I should’ve seen something. Or maybe I did and didn’t want to face that the best person I could’ve fallen for was right in front of me. 

Then I think about her. The golden-haired beauty. She wouldn’t be too pleased.

“She’s just a friend, bunny.”

“Reading my thoughts now, Styles?”

“Nah, just know you too well.”

“Yeah, I guess you do.”

Harry lifts me, kissing me again. And I can’t help but feel whole. Like a bit of me that was missing had been set on its place. 

Bless the will to play a song. 

[whenisitenoughtrees]

changing of the guard

He closes his eyes, trying to calm his thoughts, trying to get it across to his body that the threat is over, that there is no more need for vigilance.

He jerks awake.

Janus finds himself unable to sleep, even after three days of going without, even in a place that is supposedly safe. But Logan is more than willing to help him, whether he likes it or not.

Content Warnings: mild injury, sleep deprivation

Word Count: 3,680

Pairing: Platonic Loceit (could be read as romantic)

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

Janus makes it three nights without sleep before deciding that enough is enough.

Wrath is angry. Wrath is always angry, to be fair, and Janus doesn’t always care enough to know the reason why. But Wrath is so rarely angry like this, in a quiet, deliberate way, formed of a steadier fury rather than a growling, spitting rage. He’s not sure what caused it, not sure why this is happening now when by all rights, Thomas should be absolutely fine, but he knew from the moment he rose up in the dark sides’ common room to find Wrath waiting for him that this wouldn’t end well.

His arm has almost healed by now, as have the blows to his face. His ribs still pain him, but he thinks they have graduated from cracked to bruised. He counts himself lucky that he escaped without further injury.

He’s been hiding since then, hiding as Wrath prowls the house looking for him, seeking his favorite target. He can’t afford to stay in one place for very long, because Wrath is many things but stupid is not one of them, even in this state. He can’t afford to stay in his room, either; Wrath has it staked out, will burst in the moment he rises up, and that was a close call that he would rather not think about.

Usually, Remus would be here too, and that would make all the difference. But Remus has been in the Imagination for days now, working with Roman on some project, and though Janus is ecstatic that the brothers are repairing their relationship, they could not have possibly picked a worse time. Wrath and the Duke are evenly matched on a physical level, whereas Janus cannot possibly hope to win in a brawl, as his aching ribs can attest.

And with Remus in the Imagination, Janus can’t call for him. The only thing that will do is attract Wrath’s attention, and he does not like those odds at all.

So. He doesn’t sleep, or at least, not for more than a handful of minutes at a time. He stays on alert, constantly listening for soft footsteps or whispered threats. He moves location when he needs to, relying on his own ability to remain hidden in order to pass unseen. And so far, it’s worked; sure, he’s exhausted and subsisting on a constant stream of adrenaline and low-level terror, but at least he’s escaped more physical pain.

Perhaps his fear makes him weak. A coward. Wrath has called him these names and many more during his fruitless search. He is self-preservation at his core, though, and he cannot see the sense in acting any differently.

But this can’t continue. Sleep deprivation has cast a haze over his mind, making it difficult to follow a coherent train of thought to its conclusion, but he is well aware that something needs to change. Either Wrath needs to snap out of the mood he’s in, or he needs to remove himself from this situation. Or Remus needs to come and rescue him, but it’s already been three days with no sign of that, so Janus isn’t holding his breath.

He needs to leave, and that gives him two choices: the reality of Thomas’ apartment, or the light sides’ part of the mindscape. The former isn’t particularly attractive, especially since he knows that Thomas will ask questions about what he’s doing there and why he’s doing it, budding trust or not, and he’s not certain of his ability to formulate a lie he’ll believe. Thomas isn’t ready to know about Wrath yet, and he refuses to reveal him because he’s too tired to act sensibly.

That leaves going to the light sides, which is probably something he should have done days ago, when it first became clear that Wrath wasn’t going to give up on making him his personal punching bag. It was pride that held him back, pride and the knowledge that his acceptance there is tenuous at best, liable to be revoked if he steps out of line. He might be getting along with Patton, and his issues with Roman have mostly been resolved, but he’s fairly certain that Logan doesn’t care for him and Virgil remains unwavering in his enmity.

Also, handling Wrath is part of his job. Always has been. He doesn’t want them to know that he is incapable of performing his job.

“Oh, Janus--”

The voice is muffled, still distant, but Janus freezes, his heart rate accelerating. There is a sound from a few rooms away, thumping, like he’s kicking open doors or throwing furniture.

He’s out of time. He needs to make a choice, but it’s no choice at all, isn’t it? He can keep running through the mindscape, can stay undetected as long as possible, only to inevitably fail when the sleep deprivation truly catches up to him. Or he can sink out and hope that the others don’t mind him staying with them.

The thumping draws nearer.

“Shit,” he mutters, and the noise stops, because Wrath hears him, but it doesn’t matter. The footsteps approach, but he is already gone.

He rises up in the light sides’ common room.

It’s dark. He hadn’t realized that it was night. Time has shifted and blurred together, moreso as the days stretched on, and the ground itself seems to shift and tilt under his feet. The shadows of the common room dance before his eyes, as if they hide sinister intentions, even though he knows that they don’t, that shadows cast in this part of the mindscape are just that: shadows.

This is probably the best-case scenario. He can sleep on their couch and be gone before any of them know he was here at all. Where he’ll go, he’s not sure, but he’ll figure something out.

At the moment, his mind isn’t functioning much beyond reminding him of how exhausted he is.

He settles on the couch gingerly. The stillness of the house feels odd to him, and every creaking floorboard or hum from the refrigerator sets his nerves on edge. It’s ridiculous; even if one of the others saw him here, they wouldn't hurt him. Not physically, at least. He knows that much. And Wrath can’t get up here, can’t get so close to the forefront of Thomas’ mind without his permission, which he certainly has no intention to give. He is safe here, as safe as he can be, and slowly, his body begins to believe that, begins to relax into the cushions. He has no blanket and no energy to conjure one, no pillow beyond the stiff, decorative ones at the ends of the couch, and he finds himself longing for the warmth and comfort of his heat lamps.

But he has slept in worse places.

Sleep creeps around the edges of his mind once again, and this time, he embraces it. Three days without rest has left his eyes burning and his head spinning, and the siren call of unconsciousness beckons him.

Finally, he lets himself fall.

Only to jerk awake moments later.

He sits bolt upright, scanning for the threat his body must have sensed, the disturbance that must exist, for why else would he have woken himself up? But there is nothing, nothing but the empty, silent house, devoid of monsters and devoid of fear. Things move in the corners of his eyes, but when he looks, there is still nothing.

He settles back down. But it happens again. And again. And again.

And again.

Every time he drifts off, he jolts awake after a minute or so, only to find that there is nothing there, no reason for his reaction. His mind is playing tricks on him, is insistent that sleeping here is not safe despite all evidence to the contrary.

He groans, rubbing his palms into his eyes.

He’s so fucking exhausted. So why can’t he sleep?

He turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. For a moment, he thinks he sees bugs crawling across his vision, but a hard blink informs him that there are not, that he is seeing things, imagining movement where there is none. Probably because he hasn’t slept in three days. He closes his eyes, trying to calm his thoughts, trying to get it across to his body that the threat is over, that there is no more need for vigilance.

He jerks awake.

He feels a little bit like crying. The only reason he doesn’t is through years of habit, years of refusing to reveal weakness when it could be used against him at any point. He has never had the luxury of falling apart. Perhaps it would still be less dangerous to do so here, but just because the sides here call themselves ‘light’ does not mean that they are always good, or always nice, does not mean that they are above striking where it hurts.

It’s a stupid name, rings through his head, and though Roman has long since apologized, and he in turn, the words still sting. Here, in the earliest hours of the morning, he is alone with his thoughts and his insomnia, and there is nothing to keep him from ruminating on past blows he has been delivered.

He curls in on himself, and considers seeking Remus in the Imagination and asking him to knock him out.

Not his best plan, he’ll readily admit. In his state, Remus’ side of the Imagination would likely kill him long before he located the Duke himself. But what else can he do, at this point? At least if he’s dead, he won’t be awake.

Then, the lights click on, and he lurches into a sitting position, because somehow, Wrath has found him, has broken his way into a place that should, by all rights, be barred to him, and he doubts he will escape a second time, doubts he has anywhere left to run, and all he can do is sit here and squint against the light because--

“Janus?” someone asks, and his mind pauses in its spiral of panic. Because that doesn’t sound like Wrath at all.

His vision slowly grows accustomed to the light, and as it does, the features of the figure standing at the bottom of the stairs become more clear. A rumpled tie, thick glasses, mussed hair, an empty mug held casually in one hand.

Logan. Not Wrath. Logan.

He relaxes, if only a bit. It’s certainly not as bad as it could have been. Logan is unlikely to kick him out, at least, as long as he is careful not to antagonize him.

“Logan,” he greets, nodding. He wishes he had his hat, but that was one of the first things he lost during Wrath’s initial assault. “Don’t mind me, I’m just--” His mind blanks, and he scrambles for something believable-- “sitting here.”

Oh, very good, very clever. He’s changed his mind. Being beaten half to death would be preferable to this.

Logan rubs his eyes, adjusting his glasses as he does. “I can see that,” he says, “though I believe the follow-up question to that should be obvious. May I ask why you’re sitting here? Are you aware that it’s three in the morning?”

Janus frowns. “Are you?” he asks. “It looks to me as if you’re making a late night coffee run.” He gestures to the empty mug held in Logan’s hand. Logan glances down at it, looking vaguely sheepish, but the distraction only holds for a moment before he turns his attention back to Janus again, implacable.

“Perhaps,” he says, “but you’re avoiding the question.”

He huffs, resisting the temptation to cross his arms. His tongue feels thick and leaden in his mouth, his brain working too slowly to provide a reasonable excuse, and what’s worse, his chances of actually falling asleep are even lower, now that he’s been disturbed, and he can’t say he’s pleased about it.

“Maybe I’m scheming,” he says, and tries not to sound petulant. “The witching hour’s good for that. Maybe I’m formulating an evil plan.”

“On the couch?”

“On the couch.”

Logan shakes his head. “I find it highly unlikely that you would choose to, ah, scheme on the couch rather than in your room. Additionally, three AM is typically referred to as the devil’s hour rather than the witching hour, which is itself traditionally midnight.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes. “You have dark circles under your eyes, and your hands are trembling. Is everything alright?”

His hands? He looks down, and sure enough, they’re shaking. He hadn’t realized.

“Everything’s fine,” he mutters, turning his head away rather than try to make eye contact. He looks back, though, at Logan’s sudden intake of breath. “What?”

“Your face,” Logan says, eyes wide. He takes a few steps forward, placing his mug on a table with a soft thunk. Janus definitely doesn’t flinch, except he might, because he’s too tired to tell whether he does or not, actually. “Are you not aware of the bruising?”

He brings a hand up to touch the side of his face. He doesn’t feel anything out of the ordinary, but applying pressure hurts, and he is vividly reminded of how Wrath slammed his face into the ground, again and again and again, refusing to stop even when he began to beg. It stopped bothering him after the first two days, once the swelling went down, so he’d assumed that any marking had faded as well. Evidently not.

He looks up, and has to restrain himself from jerking back, because Logan is suddenly crouched directly in front of him, reaching for his face. He keeps very still as Logan turns his head, inspecting the injury. His pulse races, adrenaline once again bringing his mind to alertness even as his body screams with fatigue.

At some point, he’ll probably just… pass out, right? He can’t go on like this forever, whether his mind is at ease or not.

“This must have hurt,” Logan mutters, and that cannot possibly be concern in his voice, but if it’s not, he has no idea what it could actually be. “Are you injured anywhere else?”

“No,” he says, and he doesn’t know how Logan can possibly sniff out a lie from a single two-letter word, but he must, because he glares, and Janus winces, looking away. Would Logan throw him out if he refused to say, he wonders? He doesn’t think so, but he’s been wrong before, plenty and often, especially when it comes to the motivations of the others. And Logan has never particularly liked him, even before he started silencing and sidelining and replacing him in an effort to make his own voice be heard.

“If you don’t tell me the truth, I cannot help you,” Logan says, and that is absolutely fine, because Janus doesn’t need help, he needs to go to sleep. So it must be the exhaustion that makes him reply with the truth. Not any desire for comfort, because he does not, in fact, desire any comfort. For sure.

“A broken arm and several broken ribs,” he murmurs. “The arm has healed. It’s just sore. The ribs are better, too, though not all the way.”

Logan makes an odd, choked off sound, and when Janus looks at him again, his lips are twisted into a scowl. Angry, then, though he isn’t sure why.

“Was it Remus?” he asks, voice tight. Janus blinks. Remus hasn’t injured him like this in a very long time, and especially not on purpose.

“No,” he says. “Not Remus.”

He sees the moment his meaning sinks in, watches as Logan briefly closes his eyes.

“I see,” he says. “I presume you are here for a respite, then?”

There is no judgement in his voice, none of the condemnation that Janus certainly didn’t fear would be there, because Logan certainly doesn’t scare him. Except, it’s so late, and he’s so tired, so maybe he can admit to himself, just this once, that Logan actually terrifies him, just a little bit. That Logan is the one side he feels has the power to well and truly cast him out, if he so desired. Logical truths win out over irrational lies, after all, no matter how sweet those lies might be.

But Logan’s anger, he slowly realizes, is not directed at him. Can he trust in that, if only for a moment?

In any other circumstance, the answer would likely be a resounding no. But his mind is so hazy, his eyes dry and burning, and every inch of him wants nothing more than to rest.

“He’s watching my room too closely to get in,” he admits. “I haven’t slept in three days. And even here, I still--” He breaks off, the part of himself that rebels against showing any kind of vulnerability winning out over the part of him that will say anything, anything at all, of only it meant he could catch a break.

But Logan understands him anyway.

“After three days of constant stress, dealing with injuries, and an inability to sleep without compromising your safety, you have come here in hopes of relaxing, only to find that your mind still will not allow you to fall asleep, despite how illogical its reluctance is. Am I correct?” Logan asks, and Janus’ face burns at hearing it laid out so simply. He nods, not trusting his voice.

“Would it reassure you if someone were to remain here and keep watch, so to speak?” Logan continues, and Janus frowns, certain that he didn’t hear him right, that his muddled brain is distorting the soundwaves.

“What?” he asks, very eloquently.

Logan shrugs, making a motion with his hands. His laptop appears a second later. “I was planning to work a while longer in any case,” he says, and sits on the other end of the couch. Janus stares at him. “It is no hardship to me to do so down here, if it will help ease your mind.”

He bristles at that. “I’m not a child,” he snaps. “I don’t need you to--”

“I am not suggesting that you are one,” Logan says, overriding him. “What I am suggesting is that you are verging on dangerous levels of sleep deprivation, and you need rest.”

Janus gapes at him. Logan stares back, calm and unmoving.

“You need rest, too,” he points out weakly. Logan tilts his head, considering.

“That is true,” he concedes. “I am well aware of the negative effects that going even one sleepless night can have. However, I received an adequate amount of sleep last night, and I plan to receive an adequate amount of sleep tomorrow night, so any adverse effects that I will suffer will be minimized. You, on the other hand, will certainly continue to experience negative impacts on your health if you do not sleep tonight.”

And Janus… can’t find it within himself to continue to argue. Logan is right that he needs sleep, and he tells himself that’s the only reason why he’s permitting this, because he’s exhausted and there’s no way that he’ll be able to persuade Logan to leave, not when it takes all of his energy to speak coherently at all, much less formulate a convincing argument.

So, he slumps back, curling in on himself again.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Do what you want. I definitely care.”

His words are slurred, his vision darkening around the edges, but that doesn’t matter, not if his mind will let him stay asleep, this time.

He barely notices the lights dim. Barely notices the blanket settling across his shoulders.

“I will, thank you,” Logan says, and Janus must be imagining the laugh in his voice. “Sleep well, Janus.”

His voice follows him into sleep, uninterrupted until the morning.

------

Logan wakes-- an odd occurrence, since he does not recall intending to sleep-- to a heavy weight on his chest. It takes roughly five-point-two seconds for his mind to come to awareness enough to realize that the weight is not his laptop, as was his original supposition, but rather, a person, laid out on top of him and clinging to his shirt.

Janus, to be precise, and Logan takes a moment to be glad that he is sleeping soundly. How exactly the two of them ended up in this position, he has no idea, but he will gladly bear the indignity of being used as a pillow if it means that Janus is getting the rest he sorely needed. Besides, physical contact has been linked to increased levels of dopamine and serotonin, both of which are conducive to improved mental health. If asked, he can provide this as the reasoning behind allowing Janus to sleep on top of him in this manner.

...To cuddle, rather. This is definitely cuddling.

All six of his arms are out, wrapping Logan in a firm embrace. His face is buried in his shirt, and as Logan watches, he nuzzles deeper into the fabric, murmuring something unintelligible. His grip tightens, and for some reason, Logan’s chest fills with warmth.

...Ah,  he thinks.  Not… unpleasant.

‘Cute’ is not a descriptor that he ever thought he would apply to Deceit. But he thinks it might fit here. He finds himself smiling, and slowly, so as not to wake him, he works one arm out from under Janus’ and tentatively begins to stroke his hair. Janus makes a strange whining sound, but otherwise does not stir, so Logan continues the motion.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, even though it is an illogical statement, as nothing he can say now would have any effect on whether his dreams are pleasant or not. But he stays there, carding his fingers through his hair, letting Janus cling to him in what might be one of the best hugs he has received in his life, and he allows his mind to drift again.

He will likely regret this later, when one of the others comes stomping down the stairs and no doubt makes a scene. But for now, Logan lets himself fall back asleep, still smiling.

Writing Taglist: @just-perhaps​ @the-real-comically-insane​ @jerrysicle-tree​

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, socmono!

Happy belated Birthday, @socmono! We hope you had a wonderful day back on the 14th, and that you got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To bring the birthday feels back around, the lovely @endlessnightlock​ has written a story just for you!

I’m sorry this is so late! This story spiraled out of control inside my head, resulting in a “drabble” that is almost 7000 words long (eep)- I also have plans to add a little more on the end before I post it on Ao3, so keep your eyes peeled for that.

My inspiration for this story came from one of my favorite oldies- the 1968 Dusty Springfield song Son Of A Preacher Man. If you haven’t heard that one, I suggest giving it a listen before reading this.

This story isn’t religious, but it does have some mild religious themes (including religious guilt) because it features Peeta as a preacher’s son in the late 1960s. Also I have mentioned two separate church denominations simply because, to my knowledge, neither condone alcohol use. There is no other reason for the mentions :).

This story is also rated E for underage sexual contact.

(Have I covered everything? I think so.)

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

Katniss picked at the loose thread that’d made its way out of the darts in her dress. Frowning in concentration, she valiantly tried to work the string free since it insisted on mocking her the way it was. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get away with messing with it for long, not with Momma next to her on the sofa. 

Momma always had something to say about Katniss’s fidgeting- said a seventeen-year-old girl had no need for such restless energy; that was why she was so unladylike. No one complained about her vigor much when she was getting up before the crack of dawn to go out to the woods and track down meat for their dinner, and that was the truth.

“Katniss!”

At the sound of her harshly whispered name, Katniss caught her mother’s eye and let her hand drop back to her side with a barely-concealed huff. For her own good, she bit back a scowl. In no way was she in the mood for another lecture from Momma about giving herself early frown lines. 

It was a hardship being a wild girl tethered to a parent who forever wanted to make you like them. 

From the other side of the room, Katniss caught a muffled laugh from Peeta, and it took everything in her power not to glare at him- he knew better than to laugh at her, especially over her frustration with this stupid dress. It was a ridiculous thing, anyway. It certainly hadn’t been Katniss’s choice to wear it in the first place; it was so outdated with its knee-length skirt and tailored top lined with pearl-glazed buttons that were a bit tight across her bust since she’d had a bit of a growth spurt figure-wise this summer. 

Even the dress’s color was out of style: a soft, faded blue that wasn’t like anything currently being worn, although Katniss didn’t mind that part of it so much. She didn’t go for the garish yellows, reds, and browns presently in fashion- not that it mattered; her papa wouldn’t dream of letting her go anywhere in the type of miniskirts her friend Madge wore, anyway. 

“Katniss,” Papa said softly, setting his coffee cup on the table next to his chair, his kind grey eyes focusing on her, sensing her discomfort.

At the sound of her father's voice, she let out the breath she'd been holding. He was her saving grace- Papa understood her better than Momma ever would.

“Why don’t you take Peeta and go for a walk or something? It’s too nice of a day for a couple of young folks to be stuck indoors while their folks talk politics.”

“Or religion,” Reverend Mellark, Peeta’s father, added, smiling in that slightly blank way he had that made Katniss wonder if the man had ever had an earth-bound thought cross his mind. Of course, with Peeta’s mother, she couldn’t say she blamed him for preferring to immerse himself in his theology books.

Katniss nodded, setting her iced-tea glass on the end table willing herself to act naturally. She stood, glancing briefly at Peeta before looking away again. The glee in his light blue eyes prevented her from paying him any mind in front of the adults. They might catch on to something. “Well, come on then,” she said, her voice low.

“Don’t go too far, Katniss. I’m going to need your help getting supper around when the Reverend leaves,” Momma reminded her as she stood to leave the room so the men could talk alone, which is what they’d planned on doing all along.

“Yes, Momma.”

xoxoxo

“You don’t seem all that happy to see me today,” Peeta told her as they stepped out the kitchen, the screen door slamming shut behind them. Katniss grimaced at the brilliant afternoon sunshine meeting them. It was hot and muggy- the kind of July day that wasn’t good for much other than swimming in the creek or lying in the shade with a book. 

“That’s not it,” she told him, catching his eye and shrugging. “Come on, let’s go out a little further.”

Peeta grinned at her, shoving his hands in the pockets of his khaki’s as they walked. They headed in the direction of the back end of the Everdeen's expansive property. Chickens scattered around their feet as they made their way down the packed-earth drive; the birds ran towards the garden to look for bugs to eat.

“I get tired of these dang birds,” Katniss admitted to him, frowning as she stepped over a pile of droppings. No one wanted chicken shit on their church shoes. “You’re lucky you don’t have to keep livestock in town. Watch your step- right there,” she admonished Peeta- he’d come dangerously close to stepping in a pile of excrement. Being a town boy, he wasn't as adept at looking out for himself here.

“They ain’t so bad,” he said, stepping around the mess, “at least you don’t get stuck making house calls to Ms. Trinkett’s with my father every Monday night,” he nudged her lightly with his elbow. “I’d take regular chickens over those ladies any day.”

Katniss glanced over her shoulder quickly, hoping Momma hadn’t seen them from her vantage spot at the kitchen window. Momma and Papa insisted she wasn't old enough to have a boyfriend yet, even if it was the preacher's son. Despite her concern at getting caught being so familiar with him, Katniss snorted, picturing Ms. Effie and her sister. 

The Trinket sisters, one long-widowed and one a lifetime spinster, were a bit over the top for a rural community like Panem. ”I can’t disagree, ” she told him, ”Momma says they're something else.”

She and Peeta were nearly at the back of the lean-to then, just out of sight of the house, so Katniss grabbed his arm, tugging him behind the building with her where no one could see. Once there, she threw her arms around his neck. “I am happy to see you,” Katniss said, smiling coyly.

He grinned at her forwardness. In a move that was quick enough to leave her laughing in surprise, Peeta spun the pair of them around until her back was the one against the outbuilding. He caged her in with his body there, letting his hands come to rest on either side of her shoulders as she giggled. “Well, that makes two of us,” Peeta told her. He ran the tip of his nose across her cheek, nuzzling against her before his lips met hers. He kissed her gently at first and then deeper, with ease they’d perfected over the last month of these “walks.”

Katniss still wasn’t sure what their fathers found so interesting to discuss that it brought the Mellarks out with such frequency.

There was a question for Peeta laying heavy on her mind, though, nagging at her. Katniss wasn’t sure if she’d like the answer, but she had to know before things went any further between them, so she just said it. 

“You’re not kissing girls at every house you visit with your papa, are you Peeta?” 

He frowned, studying her face, before giving her a small, unreadable smile.  In a flash, he’d tilted his head and begun trailing his lips down the side of her neck in a way that made her pulse flutter like a bird’s wings while bathing in a puddle. 

“Peeta-“ she warned, but he just chuckled.

“I might’ve kissed a few girls before, but you’re the only one I’m kissing now,” he reassured her softly, words vibrating against her skin. ”Are you puckering up to any other fellas? For instance, what about that friend of yours- the one who helps your father at harvest?”

“Do you mean Gale?”

“Yeah, I mean Gale,” he admitted, his voice tight. 

Was he jealous? The thought kind of thrilled her. Katniss chewed on her lip before exhaling against his shoulder because he still wasn’t looking at her. “He, ah, he did kiss me once,” she admitted, thinking it was better to be honest since it was just him and her right now. “Might have done a little more than kissing-”

Peeta tensed against her.

“But that was last summer,” Katniss told him. 

There wasn’t much to tell- Gale had tried putting his tongue in her mouth, and he’d touched her breasts over her shirt a little. It wasn’t like there was much of anything there for him to grab at the time. Either way, she hadn’t liked it, so she asked him to stop pretty quickly. Katniss hadn’t given what happened with Gale much thought before now- she’d just assumed she didn’t like making out like other girls did. She felt different about it with Peeta, though.

“Well, I haven’t done much more than kissing myself,” he admitted.

Katniss was sort of relieved. She hadn’t thought Peeta was a fast boy- not that it would’ve changed her opinion of him if he had been. If he’d gotten around a little more than her, then he just had. Either way, she still would’ve liked him the same; it only made her more comfortable knowing he didn’t have much experience either. 

Frankly, the only girl Katniss wanted Peeta to be fast with was her. 

What she wanted to do with him was probably considered a sin in the Lord’s eyes, but that wasn’t going to stop her a bit. All she knew for sure was that while she hadn’t been kissing Peeta Mellark for very long, he always made her want more. It was hard to be good all the time, no matter how hard she tried. Wrong or right, being with him made her feel like she was flying.

She sighed when his hand curled around her waist and pulled her closer. He still maintained a polite distance between their bodies, but she stepped closer to him, pressing her breasts against his chest for the first time. She had the strongest urge to feel his touch there- just that light press was overwhelming.

Peeta must’ve enjoyed that because he pulled her tighter, lining his hard chest against her softer curves. Breathless with anticipation, she was just about to take his hand and move it up to her breast when he dropped his hands away from her and stepped back. 

“What’s wrong?” Katniss asked, studying him for signs that she’d done something wrong. Didn’t he like that? 

His eyes looked kind of wild, she thought.

“Don’t you wanna-“

Peeta’s gaze raked over her face. “Can you sneak away tonight?” he asked, eagerly. “Would you meet me like we did last time?”

Just last week, Katniss snuck out and met up with him once her family had gone to bed. They’d sat by the creek, ditching their shoes and rolling up the cuffs of their pant legs to dip their toes in the water. There’d been some fooling around, but mostly, they’d just talked until she started having trouble keeping her eyes open. 

She figured tonight, though, Peeta wanted to do more kissing than talking. That was alright with her.

Without considering it much, she bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah, I can.” 

Momma and Papa went to bed as soon as the sun went down, so the house was always quiet by ten or so. She wasn’t sure how Peeta managed to get his father’s car to drive out and meet her, but then again, she’d never asked him about it.

“Great!” he said, his grin as wide as a Cheshire cat. 

His enthusiastic reaction made her giggle, a sound she was pretty sure only Peeta had ever solicited from her. Katniss was disappointed when he stepped away from her, signaling an end to their impromptu makeout session, but he still kissed her gently, his lips melting her frown away before she had a chance to argue with him. That soothed her. 

“Don’t scowl at me that way,” he said, “you know I wanna kiss you. I just don’t know if we ought to risk showing up again, looking like that’s what we’ve been doing. Your momma and papa will figure out what we’re up to; she looked funny enough at us last week.”

Katniss knew he was right, so with a resigned sigh, she stepped away from the side of the lean-to; they’d have to wait until tonight for more, she guessed. Pushing her disappointment aside, she grabbed his hand and tugged, indicating he should follow her. “You’re right, Peeta Mellark, just like always. Come on then- if you’re not going to hold me, then you can at least come and see the new litter of kittens in the barn.”

xoxoxoxoxoxo

That evening, when the frogs were singing in the trees, and the crickets were making a real ruckus from down in the grass, Katniss found Peeta sitting on a log by the creek behind her house, just like he said he’d be. It was way past sundown, but she could still see well enough, besides= she’d know the broadness of his shoulders and the tousled back of his head anywhere. 

Her bare feet sunk in the damp, sandy soil lining the bank where she stood off to the side, studying Peeta’s profile- he was so handsome it made her chest hurt sometimes. He hadn’t heard her approach, though, so Katniss let him know she was there too after a moment. “Been waitin’ long?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Hey,” Peeta greeted her, smiling warmly, catching her eye as he looked over his shoulder. As she approached, he scooted down the log, making room for her to sit next to him. “No, it hasn’t been long- ten minutes or so at the most.”

Katniss sat down next to him and pulled her hair over one shoulder, using it as a shade she could use to peer around at him. She’d worn it loose around her shoulders the way she knew he liked, and, thankfully, that dress from earlier was long gone, replaced by jeans and an old button-down shirt. She felt much more like herself this way. 

“It’s a pretty night,” she said, feeling a little shy now that they were alone in the dark. 

The remainder of the afternoon, once Peeta and his father left, she’d been distracted by thoughts of him and what they might get into tonight. The hours had dragged by until Momma and Papa were finally in bed, and she could sneak out to meet him.

”It is, ” Peeta agreed, “but not nearly as pretty as you.”

“Flatterer.”

He just grinned in answer.

The moon was full, reflecting off the shallow creek water. It was bright enough that she could make out the look on her face and the way he sat, totally focused on her. ”I’m glad you made it.” Katniss told him, her voice soft.

”I wouldn’t have missed the chance to see you.”

She scooted closer to him. “You know, Peeta; I gotta ask you something.”

“What is it?” he said the words as if he’d gladly tell her every thought that had ever entered his head. He took her hand in his.

Katniss curled her fingers through his and squeezed. It was wonderful to touch him again freely. “How is it that you manage to get the Reverend’s car out without anyone noticing?” she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. “I know he’s got his head in the clouds all the time, but my momma would sure notice me starting up our car after everyone’s gone to bed for the night.” She laughed. “If I weren’t on foot coming to meet you, I’d be out of luck.”

“But I’d find a way to pick you up,” Peeta said, looking down at their hands. “I gotta see my girl.”

“Your girl?”

“Yeah. My girl- neither heaven nor hell would stop me.” He paused after his declaration and snorted. “My father probably wouldn’t approve of the sentiment behind those words; I don’t think.”

“I don’t know about heaven or hell getting in the way, but what about your momma- doesn’t she try stopping you?” Katniss prodded. He still hadn’t answered her question. 

Peeta glanced away, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. She had the distinct impression there was something he wasn’t telling her. Things grew quiet, and the longer he was silent, and the longer she sat curling her toes in and out of the sand, the more sure she was that he was keeping something from her. Peeta took forever to answer; he seemed to be weighing what to say, frowning into the dark in concentration. It was painful to watch.

“What is it?” Katniss asked, breaking the silence. She wasn’t going to make him do something if he didn’t want to. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I don’t- ah, hell. Why not. The thing is, you can’t say anything to anyone.” Peeta finally said, glancing her way again. He looked nervous. “You gotta promise me that.”

Katniss nodded, scooting closer to him on the log. “Of course.” Even if Peeta hadn’t been her boyfriend, she still wasn’t one for running her mouth about everyone else’s business. 

He sighed resignedly, looking pained. “So I don’t know if you know this, I think some people suspect and some know, but Momma likes to drink. Drinks quite a lot.”

Katniss’s eyebrows shot up. While their church wasn’t a bunch of complete teetotalers like the Baptists or the Apostolic church up the road were, their congregation certainly frowned upon overindulgence in alcohol. “Oh,” was all she could manage, her mind whirring with what he’d told her.

Peeta huffed. “Maybe “likes” isn’t the right word- I’d say she has to drink. She does it most all day- says it keeps her in her right mind. But then nighttime rolls around, and at that point, it’s a lot more. By the time she goes to bed, she isn’t in any state to wake up again. An elephant stomping through the kitchen wouldn’t rouse her once she’s passed out.”

“Peeta,” she said, hating that she’d made him feel bad to find out the truth.

He kept talking as if she hadn’t said anything. “That’s why me and the Reverend go visit the Trinkett ladies every week. Momma likes their home-brew the best. She’s real nasty if she doesn’t get it.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered- and she was. Her momma and pappa were over-protective and kept her under tight reign, but at least they paid attention to her. She never doubted they were thinking of what was best for her or her baby sister Prim. She couldn’t say that about Peeta’s theologian father, who liked to distract himself with his religious books, and certainly not about his over-indulging mother.

“I don’t like it- leaves the Reverend and me to play clean up after her all the time- have to tell folks she’s sick or has a headache when usually it’s just the drink.” Peeta finally looked at her, and this time he had a wistful smile on his face that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “But then again, it ain’t all bad, having no one pay you no mind. It makes it a whole lot easier to sneak away and see your girl.”

“I wish we didn’t have to sneak off this way, though. Don’t you?” Katniss said abruptly. 

There really ought to be some sort of happy medium between not being allowed to have a boyfriend like her momma and papa and Peeta’s folks who barely recognized his existence. She wanted to have a relationship in front of others; she wanted the whole world to know Peeta was her boyfriend. She was proud of him- he was a catch.

“We won’t always,” he insisted. “I swear- your momma will change her mind about you having a boyfriend eventually, and then we won’t have to do this anymore. And it’s not like you’re dating some hooligan-”

She laughed.

“How much more respectable can you get than the preacher’s son?”

“You aren’t that respectable, Peeta Mellark,” Katniss said, leaning into his shoulder with a sigh and letting her hip rest against his. They couldn’t be sitting much closer now if they tried, but she wanted to be close to him, to show him how much his trust in her meant. “No matter who your papa is.”

“Do you want me to be respectable all the time?” He asked, wrapping his free arm around her waist. His hand came to rest at her side, and he curled it against her, rubbing her hip. His fingers slipped just under the tails of her shirt, the calloused tips of his fingers brushing against her skin.

She shook her head. “Not really, no. You don’t kiss like a respectable boy.”

“I feel the least respectable of all when you’re sitting with me like this. The things I’m thinking about you are positively sinful,” Peeta admitted, quirking his lips in a funny little smile that was much more genuine than its predecessor.

“Me too,” Katniss said softly, her voice so low it must’ve been difficult to hear over the crickets chirping behind them or the gurgle of the creek.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if it is a sin, then the Lord will just have to forgive me; I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t touch you more,” he admitted, startling her with his bluntness.

Katniss licked her lips, excited and nervous. “Go ahead then,” she told him boldly.

“Maybe I will,” Peeta said, his eyes lighting up.

“Well, maybe I want you to.”

“Really?” 

Instead of answering, Katniss leaned into him. She let her free hand rest against the line of his jaw, and Peeta tilted his face into her touch and let his eyes droop closed. “I like you an awful lot- do you know that?” she said.

His eyes fluttered open again, and Katniss watched him turn his hand and kiss the palm of her hand; it was a sweet gesture, but one that made her heart race. His lips were like petals, and his breath was warm when it fluttered against her skin. “I do, but a fella doesn’t get tired of hearing it,” he told her softly.

Katniss laughed under her breath, relishing in the way Peeta always made her smile until her cheeks hurt. It was funny to be kissing him sometimes when he felt so much like a friend- she liked talking to him just as much as she liked kissing him.

“I was kind of hoping you were going to throw yourself at me again like you did earlier this afternoon,” he confessed.

“What are you going to do- just sit there while I ravish your body?”

“Maybe for a bit, but I kinda looked forward to doing some ravishing myself,” Peeta admitted.

Katniss snorted, but not for long because he moved into her, smiling against her lips before nudging them lightly with his own, playing with her, prodding at her mouth until she opened to him. Their teeth bumped from their open-mouth laughter; there was a little more hesitancy, but then he pulled her closer and sunk his hand in her hair, and she found herself lost in the taste and feel of him.

After kissing her until they were both breathless, Peeta pulled away. Tilting her head to the side, he trailed the tip of his tongue around the shell of her ear before sucking the lobe into his wet, warm mouth. 

“Sweet lord-“ she whispered, shivering. 

Peeta held her tight against his side, one arm around her waist while the other hand settled on her belly, just above the waistband of her jeans. His lips moved down her neck until he reached the bit of skin open to him at the top of her shirt.

Giving in to that same urge from earlier, brought on now by his closeness to such an intimate part of her body, Katniss took his hand, lifting it to the first button of her shirt. 

Peeta stopped what he was doing, mouth freezing against her skin. He tensed with indecision, so she squeezed his hand in reassurance- Katniss wanted him to see her and touch her more than she’d wanted anything. Her nipples felt tight, her breasts aching for his hands. “Please,” she asked, curling his fingers into the shirt so there was no way he wouldn’t understand her meaning. “I want you to, so bad.”

Her words must’ve given him the confidence he needed because he sat up and kissed her passionately. His hand at the placket of her shirt was shaking under her hand, but when she let hers drop to her side, he began undoing the buttons regardless.

Katniss closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing as more and more of her skin was exposed to the night air. She hadn’t worn a brassiere out here to meet him, wanting one less barrier impeding them. That thought made her lick her lips, nervous to see what he would think of her and wondering when Peeta would notice.

“Oh, you’re not,” he faltered as he pushed her shirt open slightly. “You’re naked under here,” he said dumbly.

Katniss peeked her eyes open. Peeta’s focus was on the space between her breasts; just the inside curve was visible, the fabric caught on her nipples, keeping everything from being revealed to him just yet. He looked stunned- his eyes were wide, and even in the dark, she could see the color in his fair face was high. He backed away from her, and she couldn’t help notice the way his hands clenched and unclenched in his lap. 

“You can touch me,” she said breathlessly, encouraging him.

Peeta met her eyes, looking like a deer in the headlights, paralyzed with doubt. Katniss realized that for all his big talk about it being a sin not to touch her, he was still nervous, so she took his hand and slid it beneath her shirt, her eyes steady on his the whole time. The skin on his palm was soft, and his fingers were warm and slightly calloused against her sensitive skin as it curled around her. She gasped, leaning into his touch as he dragged his thumb across her nipple, triggering pleasant warmth that began at her breasts but spread down to her belly.

Peeta dropped down onto his knees in front of her, pushing the shirt off her shoulders. She shrugged the material the rest of the way off her body. Once it was gone, he gawked openly at her, his hands frozen at his sides again. 

She kind of wished he would do something instead of just staring at her breasts- it was starting to make her second guess taking her shirt off. Maybe they weren’t ready for this yet. In a fit of sudden shyness, Katniss crossed her arms over her chest and covered herself. Her bravado was evaporating by the second.

The movement stirred him out of the daze he’d fallen into, and he looked up at her then. Being able to see his eyes again steadied her nerves a little. 

“Do you want me to take off mine too?” he asked, reaching for the bottom of his shirt.

“Yeah, I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” she admitted, laughing a little. “You’re makin’ me nervous the way you’re staring, is all.”

Peeta let his head drop.“You’re just- you’re so beautiful, Katniss. I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

“You’ve never seen breasts?” she asked, frowning at him.

He looked up at her again and shrugged. “I’ve seen some in magazines, but I’ve never had a girl show me hers before.” 

And then Peeta tugged his t-shirt up and over his head, tossing it down beside them.

She couldn’t think of anything smart to reply- it was her turn to gape at him. She’d seen shirtless boys before, but not one of them had looked so beautiful as Peeta did, kneeling in front of her the way he was. He was slim in the waist but broad through the shoulders and chest. He had muscular arms, and in the moonlight, his skin seemed to glow.

Katniss bit her lip. Did he feel the same way looking at her that she did him?

Peeta moved in closer to her, dislodged the piece of flesh from beneath her teeth with his thumb. Then, with his hand still at the corner of her mouth, he kissed her open-mouthed, with more passion than she’d ever felt from him. As his tongue brushed hers, he slid his arms around her waist. Katniss spread her knees apart, wanting him closer. Peeta moved between them and pulled her flush, pressing their bare chests together.

The feel of being skin-to-skin with him was overwhelming. There were so many places Katniss wanted to touch him, so her hands began to roam: his hair, his back, his arms- she found that when she drug her fingers down his sides, he squirmed a little. He must be ticklish there.

And all the while, while they kissed and touched each other, feeling wild and free and alive, her body became something she’d never been so aware of until that moment. Katniss snaked her legs around Peeta’s hips and tugged him forward until she had his hardness lined up to her center. “You feel-,” he groaned in her ear, thrusting against her. With the first movement, she went from feeling warm and tingly to downright aching.

If he was still talking, he must be doing better than she was- Katniss knew she couldn’t form words if her life depended on it.  All she wanted was to feel more of him and more of what they were doing to each other.

Katniss dropped her hand down between their bodies, taken by an urge to touch what she was feeling- she cupped his erection over his pants, and he thrust into her grip. 

When she looked at Peeta’s face, she was stunned by his glassy-eyed, slack-jawed expression. It startled her a little, so she took her hand away, ashamed of herself for doing something so daring without asking him first, but he grabbed her wrist, lightning-fast. 

“Don’t stop, please,” he begged. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“You liked that?” Katniss asked, leaning her forehead against his neck. With all the feelings running wild through her, she couldn’t look him in the eye.

Peeta took her hand, placing it over his hardness again. He curled her fingers around him so that she was gripping him. 

When she rubbed him through the thick material of his jeans, kissing his neck and collarbone because she couldn’t look him in the eye, it seemed like he stopped breathing. Katniss touched him that way but eventually grew frustrated with the way his jeans left so much to the imagination, plus it felt a little awkward. “Can I-” she trailed off, running her fingertip up his zipper. 

Peeta’s hand curled around her waist, turning his head to speak in her ear. “You can do anything you want.” His voice was breathless, his chest heaving against hers like he’d run a mile. 

She moved her hand up to the button on his pants, and when her fingers brushed against his taut skin above the waistline, he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?” Katniss asked one last time, her fingers curling inside the waist of his jeans.

Peeta dropped his lips to hers, kissing her fervently. She guessed that was her answer. Katniss moved to the button of his pants and undid it before carefully pulling down his zipper in almost painfully heavy silence. When his fly was open, she only hesitated for a moment before slipping her hand in his underwear and wrapping it around him.

“Oh god, oh god, oh my god,” Peeta muttered against her mouth, lips slack. 

He didn’t seem capable of kissing her as she touched him; that was alright- she wanted to be uninhibited in her exploration of his body. His dick was larger than she thought it would be, and his skin was petal-soft but rigid beneath the surface, and he seemed to be growing stiffer as she rubbed her hand up and down the length of him. It seemed strange, but she could feel his pulse in her hand. When she made her way to the top, Katniss moved her thumb across the head, rubbing the small amount of dampness into him on instinct. 

“Fuck,” Peeta gasped, gripping her forearm.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” Katniss told him breathlessly, never hearing him swear before. This night was full of surprises and what she was doing to him excited her more by the minute.

When Peeta let go of her arm and moved his hand to the inside of her upper thigh, she forgot how to breathe herself. “Can I, too?” He managed, trailing his fingers up the inseam of her pants.

“Yeah,” she choked out, stilling her hand on him. Her pulse thumped like mad as he reached for her, unbuttoning her pants. Katniss might not have planned for all of this to happen tonight, but she didn’t want to stop, either.

She leaned towards Peeta as his hand slid inside her underwear. Knowing she was ridiculously wet, she hoped he wouldn’t think it was weird; the idea made her pretty nervous. Katniss knew it was natural to get that way when aroused. The times she’d touched herself, despite knowing it was probably a sin, had taught her that. 

But sliding her hand inside her underwear and exploring herself had mostly been out of curiosity. 

With Peeta, it was an entirely different thing- a hot, burning need that grew in intensity the further they went.

His fingers brushed against the short curls between her thighs, and when he moved further down, dipping just inside her wet lips and dragging them forward, Katniss’s hips jerked against his hand. His touch was unbelievable, much better than any time she’d done this herself. He hadn’t found the spot yet that make her sing, but it still felt amazing.

“You like this,” Peeta whispered disbelievingly, “Katniss, you’re so-”

“Yes,” Katniss gasped as his fingers rubbed against the top of her, “it feels so good.” She wanted him to delve deeper and touch that place that always felt so good when she did it herself. Their position with her on the log and him kneeling in front of her was awkward. 

And then, realizing she’d stopped moving her hand over him, Katniss tightened her grip on Peeta’s dick again. He might not be able to reach her very well this way, but she could still touch him. They’d gone this far, and now she wanted to see what happened next.

“Unf,” Peeta grunted, his hand going still inside her underwear, his body slumping forward.

Katniss watched his expression as she touched him. Peeta seemed lost entirely to what she was doing, his breathing becoming shallower, fighting to keep his eyes open. Was that because he didn’t want to look away from her?

“I’m- oh,” Peeta wrapped his free hand around the back of her head, jerking her against his chest as his length started throbbing in her hand. The faster she moved her hand, the louder he became, until his whole body stiffened up and his dick pulsed harder as hot, white liquid spurted from him, splashing against her bare arm and chest, bathing her hand in it as she continued pumping her fist up and down him. “Holy hell, goddammit,” he gasped.

Katniss turned her head, grinning against his shoulder when he seemed done after she’d taken her hand off of him. She felt suddenly shy, despite Peeta’s slack hand still lodged down the front of her underwear and his ejaculate all over her.

“I’d better,” Peeta began, pausing to kiss her firmly before as he took his hand out of her underwear and reached to the side to grab his discarded t-shirt, “take care of this. Sorry about the mess,” he added, using the material to wipe her hands and chest clean. He lingered at her breasts, rubbing the shirt across them long after she’d been wiped clean.

Katniss laughed deliriously, still a little in shock over what had just happened. She swatted his hand away, teasingly. “That’s okay- it was fun. I liked it,” She admitted. 

“It was certainly fun for me. Probably could’ve lasted a little longer,” Peeta said a little sheepishly. Even if he was embarrassed, he couldn’t keep the happy smile off his face.

Katniss didn’t think he had anything to be embarrassed about- from what she’d heard about boys, what he’d done was typical for the first time someone touched him. She figured touching each other was like anything else; there had to be a pretty big learning curve. A bigger part of her liked that she’d gotten him that worked up.

Peeta leaned forward and kissed her insistently until she was breathless, reminding her again how excited she was. “Now I wanna make you feel good too,” he said when she was half-crazy from his lips. “You might need to show me how.” He got up then, pulling his underwear back up to cover himself but leaving his pants unzipped. 

When He offered Katniss his hand, she took it. “What are you taking me?” she asked.

“Nowhere. Just changing things around a bit,” Peeta answered, stepping behind her and sitting on the ground with his back resting against the log. He spread his legs apart and patted the space in front of him. “I thought it might be easier this way, especially if you want to take your pants off.”

Katniss didn’t overthink pushing her jeans over her hips and down her legs at that point. After all, she was already shirtless in front of him, and for some reason letting Peeta see her breasts left her feeling more exposed than anything. She knew he wouldn’t try to take things any further than she wanted to

She lowered herself to the ground, kneeling in front of him, but Peeta, with a quick kiss, told her to turn around. Katniss did, settling upright against his chest. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said as she shifted against him. He wasted no time mouthing against the back of her neck while his hands settled at her waist.

“You haven’t seen much then,” Katniss whispered with what was supposed to be humor but came out sounding breathy instead. Her body tingled in the night air, the slight breeze across her nipples causing her breasts to ache even more. 

Like he was reading her mind, Peeta’s warm hands moved up from her waist and cupped her breasts. “I think I’ve seen all I need to see.”

“They’re just,” she bit her lip to keep from moaning too loud as he played with her, his thumbs rubbing and pinching her nipples, sending sparks between her thighs, “breasts. Half the world’s population has got them.”

“But I just want to see yours,” Peeta said, gently squeezing her with his warm hands. The pressure made her squirm, and she rubbed her thighs together. “How does it feel when I do this?”

“Good,” Katniss whispered, arching into his hands. He groaned under his breath. She could tell his dick was getting hard again, pressing against her backside, and that surprised her- she always thought boys were a one and out deal. 

Not Peeta, apparently. 

“How about this?” he asked while one hand glided down her stomach. His fingers were at the waistband of her underwear, edging beneath the elastic.

“Yes,” she said. The sensation was different than before. Peeta wasn’t restricted by her stiff pants this time or the awkward position she’d sat in when he’d touched her earlier.

“Help me?” he asked.

Katniss covered her hand with his and pushed them down together, leading him to the place. “Rub me there,” she said, spreading her legs wide to make it easier to get to the nerve bundle. She gripped his fingers, demonstrating what she meant. Katniss rubbed their fingers over her together in slow circles- not too soft or too rigid. Their hands together in her intimate places felt wickedly good. 

“I think I’ve got it now,” Peeta whispered in her ear. His breathing was noticeably heavier, their noises mingling together in the night air, the sounds of the creek, and the insects in the woods background noise to their pants and moans.

Katniss dropped her hand away and closed her eyes. The pleasure was coiling, burning low in her stomach. Her feet scrabbled against the sandy creekside, looking for something to hold onto; when Peeta realized what she was doing, he wrapped his free arm around her waist, holding her tight against his body as she tensed all over.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect, so everything,” Peeta murmured in her ear. “I love seeing you this way; I love doing this to you.”

His words and his fingers rubbing her perfectly now between her thighs, the feel of his hand pressing into her waist, his mouth sucking on the side of her neck, and his dick pressing firmly against her backside all converged as one to overwhelm her. The deep, tight pressure broke, and pleasure flooded her body. The feeling was much more intense than anything she’d ever experienced on her own. 

[quirklessidiot]

aoba johsai’s sport’s journalist (h/c’s)

just crack+ fluff + platonic-ish relationship (gn!y/n) (w: language!) a/n: this has been bugging me for awhile now since i havent seen headcanons of this yet (if their are do send them on my ask box) and since im on a slump, i decided to write this down. this is completely fun, easy-going, and self-indulgent, really perfect for someone stuck on a slump ksks. idk if i should make some for the other schools but oh welp enjoy! happy 900 btw werkwerk uwu so weird to reach this when im not even very active.

Now let’s be honest here, it’s no surprise that the volleyball team of aoba johsai has their own sports journalist. Like, c’mon, they’re one of the best in the prefecture.

But let’s start with the basics here, shall we? Let’s start with you, how this all goes through, and how you got into this heaping pile of mess.

Yep, you.

There you were in high hopes to get into journalism for college so what better way was it than to apply for the school paper? It would definitely look good and pretty in those college applications *chef’s kiss* you’re a second year btw idk if that matters but yeah..

Much to your surprise no one was applying for the news section which was kind of sad since you wanted a buddy there.

but-but it turns out though everyone was applying for the sports section completely understandable, next to feature, it was the most exciting thing to write because there was going to be a special section and writer for the volleyball team.

You knew that volleyball was kind of a big thing around your school?? you just didn’t expect it to amass like that much people.

The editor in chief is obviously surprised, you were the first person on that day to come in there and actually apply for something else.

and guess where that led you to?

Yep, the sport’s section, specifically the volleyball team’s personal sports journalist. Your brain goes brrt brrt because you were not a sports writer at all and you were, ironically, scared of ball games.

VOLLEYBALL WAS COMPLETELY NEW TERRITORY FOR YOU.

Your editor in chief laughs it off and says, “you’ll do fine… its like news bUT SPORTS! IT’LL DEFINITELY LOOK GOOD IN YOUR APPLICATIONS!”

You’re not sure if you should be terrified or terrified?

It doesn’t help that on the first day when you enter the gym you look terribly constipated and panicking a lot because of all the stray balls being spiked and tossed around.

It also didn’t help that you crash course the terminologies and the member’s name a night before and you were just running on iced coffee that day.

Yeah, way to make a first impression, huh?

When you approach the coach, you’re not exactly sure what to say and you were this close to chickening out until you saw one of the players come up to you and ask if you were alright and if you wanted to talk to oikawa.

you’re loading for a second there.

and the poor guy who asks you if you were alright, starts looking actually worried because you weren’t responding at all.

“OH, oH IS THAT THE CAPTAIN?”

the guy literally looks very confused?? because what kind of rock were you living under that you didn’t know Oikawa???

so you go ahead and introduce yourself and say that your name was Y/N and you were the new sports journalist for the team.

“....soooo you write?”

“...”

at this point on, you’re also confused too

and idk man, first impressions do indeed last because you ended up (unknowingly) sharing the same brain cell with Matsukawa Issei.

you both were just confused there, straight up looking like two kids who got left behind by their mom in the grocery check-out line.

anyways...

He tells you the team’s pretty chill and you should stop looking like they spiked a ball on your puppy or something.

Basically introduces you to the whole team after, 

no questions asked, just go with the flow.

You basically just click and vibe???

Not only because you crash coursed and related to whatever they said, 

you literally all shared the same brain cell together.

Kentaro was another story though, kid basically hated your guts at first, it felt like if you were to say one sentence to him that day, he’d literally spike a ball at your direction.

“we’re basically the same year tho :(” -Y/N

“lmao well do i’ve got news for you, y/n-chan.” - Oikawa and basically everyone on the team.

you gradually start to understand the coolness of the sport since you had to incorporate visiting them once or twice a week during practice.

but suddenly it becomes almost a daily routine after a month because they’re just really friendly people??

like wow, they’re all friendly giants.

You’re literally just there to write about them but they’re really patient and kind, they even invite you to practice games so that you could practice out your skills in writing since you mentioned that you’ve never written for sports yet.

they even give you some added key terms that aren’t found in books and online.

you’re def closest to iwaizumi and matsukawa.

iwaizumi because he makes really funny fish jokes about oikawa (yes you arent supposed to be laughing but man theyre funny af, oikawa would usually call you and iwa corny because the jokes aren’t even that funny) and yes its canon that whenever iwaizumi sees an oikawa fish in textbooks, he starts laughing and joking about it.

no explanation needed why you ended up being close to matsukawa.

its obvious after that first meeting ya both would be besties.

same brain cell bros go brrt brrt.

incredibly!! supportive!! I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH

like when you release a new write up about them, Oikawa would usually go, “It’s such an honor to be apart of your first steps, can you sign this?”

dramatic but hella supportive, we stan the gr8 king

“oh, wow, i thought you said you didn’t write before? how come you sound like a professional already?” - Hanamaki 

another dramatic best boi.

akira + kindaichi getting shy because they’ve never experienced this yet. So whenever you try to interview them about stats or something for a special issue, they usually end up a stuttering mess

“w-well, L/N-san...”

kentaro slowly warming up to you but still looks like he wants to spike a volleyball at your face 90% of the time but unlike before you’re used to his whole thing already.

“Move, extra.”

“You were great, by the way. That was a powerful spike!”

you may or may not be included in random ramen nights with the team

yes, oikawa buys you your own bowl of ramen

itadakimasu.

he doesn’t mind tho, he really loves how you write them. 

so its sort of a thank you for giving the team justice when you write about them.

team says you’re technically part of the team so they make you your own jersey. Now when you watch your games people ask if you’re like the manager or smthng.

“ no :’) “

When they lost against shiratorizawa and karasuno, you were bawling too like you were apart of the team.

this pretty much cheered everyone up despite the loss because your crying face was apparently very funny and memable.

oh right, your article was passed on to the town’s newspaper

it was literally like 7 am on a saturday and your notifs went zoop.

they added you to their group chat and spammed you with pictures of the articles that you wrote.

“...wOW I CAN’T BELIEVE IT?? YOU GOT FRONT PAGE FOR SPORTS???” -Oikawa

“we didn’t even win the tournament but we still get a feature?? thats so cool?? holy shit?? CONGRATS KSKSKS” -matsukawa

lmao idk matsukawa looks like a keyboard smasher tbh idk why

pretty much its normal for you to even start hanging out already outside of the court and after practice to get steam buns.

more chaotic mess and clumsy you running around.

your volleyball sports writing experience wouldn’t be complete until someone accidentally spikes a ball at the back of your head amaright?

ironically, it’s yahaba who does that to you. poor smoll bean.

“wow, you’re dumb.” -kentaro says to you

“ :’)” -you.

“y/N-SAN I SWEAR IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.” -yahaba 

overall, you found yourself in a safe haven with the volleyball team and yes, you also cried when the third years graduated. 

the third years have a picture with everyone on the team + you with a very red face from all the crying?? once again, you’ve proven yourself to be a meme.

continued to write for them up until graduation.

and its def obvious you kept in touch with all of them after, duh.

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Fairy Dust

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: adventure, fantasy, fluff

Word Count: 22k

(A/N): This is my first time writing anything like this and boy was it tough! Also I really didn’t mean for it to be this long so oops 😬

For BCC One Summer Night Project

You follow Jimin away from your campsite off the beaten path on a journey guided by starlight, walking hand in hand and treading lightly so as not to disturb the wildlife around you. You weave through the wooded area of your night trail to a destination that your boyfriend has not yet disclosed to you. Shades of midnight blues and purples color what was once green and brown around you, blackening shapes at your feet that you step over with care.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” You fret with a chuckle, enjoying the warmth of his fingers when they squeeze yours.

“Of course, I used to come here all the time with my family. It’s right up ahead.” He points with a finger you can barely see in the dim lighting. You trust him, shrugging to yourself as you trek on. He stops you a few steps later, looking down at his feet until you do the same and come to the realization that there is a stream in your path. “I’ll go first.”

He demonstrates by stepping on a flat stone in the center of the water source, leaping to the other side gracefully before turning to offer you his hand and a smile. Your movements are a lot more unsteady than his. A hesitant step on the stone is all you can manage before you’re grasping for his hand, stumbling to his side and nearly pulling both of you down into the water, a few bugs flying up at your rough landing. It’s smooth sailing after that, avoiding a fallen log, regretfully stepping over the corpse of a poor decaying animal, and brushing past short shrubbery before you finally reach a clearing with a perfect view of the starry ceiling above you.

“Wow,” From this vantage point at your altitude in these mountains the beautiful glow of the galaxy is not clouded by pollution or artificial light. You’ve never seen so many stars in your life, all twinkling at you in clusters of white dots that form patterns and constellations above your head. Jimin pulls a purple blanket from the bag on his back, placing it in the uncut grass at the center of the meadow. You take a seat next to him, laying back to curl into his chest comfortably as his arms come to wrap around you.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He asks in a whisper, watching the environment around you come to life from your movement. Fireflies rise above the blades of green beneath you to put on a display of light for you, creating their own pictures that rival even the stars.

“It’s... perfect.” You are utterly speechless, simply thankful that he decided to share this with you. Looking up, you discover that he is no longer looking around but is focused solely on you now, and when you lock eyes, you lean in for a kiss. You could swear that the fireflies around you begin to circle around your bodies once your lips touch, your eyes now closed and a delicious scent engulfing you. It’s easy to get lost in Jimin’s kiss, so easy that you begin to lose track of time and space and lose consciousness.

“Why did you pick them?” A voice sounds distantly, distorted oddly in your ears.

“Uhm, well, I- uh,” The timid squeak comes from much closer, and you can almost hear the nervous way the mysterious person gnaws on their lip. A loud sigh. “We’re desperate.”

“...Fine. But you couldn’t have found someone more— I don’t know— muscular than them? I mean come on, they’re both practically splinters!”

“There was no one else around... maybe we could make this a stealth mission instead?”

Your eyes start to crack open once the grogginess fades, a soft and fuzzy fabric swallowing you in its folds. Jimin is not in your immediate line of sight and everything is brighter than you remember. Your head lifts before you’ve gotten both eyes fully open, alerting the two that now accompany you.

“Oh, one of them is awake!” The timid voice whispers, and the first thing to come into view is a flawless face, features too smooth and delicate to be real. The woman’s skin sparkles as if she had been bathed in glitter, but it seems that she’s producing her own light, an supernatural glow outlining her body and... wings? Maybe your eyes were still adjusting...

“Mm, what happened?” You mumble, your mind feeling hazy. Once your eyes fully focus, you jump at her proximity.

“W-wow, I didn’t know humans were this pretty.” She gushes, earning a slap on the shoulder from the other person she’s with. Looking to the left, you find a shorter woman whose features are just as undefined as her taller counterpart, the same glow haloed around her.

“Don’t say things like that.” She scolds.

“Jimin?!” Suddenly you think of your boyfriend, who you have yet to see, and begin to search around, finally taking in your surroundings and noticing that you appear to be lost in a sea of purple, blanket-like material, its folds blocking and trapping you as you move around to find your partner. You call out to him again, this time receiving a response.

“(Y/n)?” He sounds sleepy, probably just waking up from whatever slumber you had fallen into.

“We should help.” The taller woman says, appearing behind you to grab you under your arms and lift you. Lift you? Wait, were you flying?! Your legs dangle as you rise higher above your fabric prison, the new perspective allowing you to see that you were surrounded by giant blades of grass and that you had, in fact, been on your blanket. She lowers you next to Jimin, huffing from the exertion, and you scramble to his side. What the hell was going on?

“Did you just... Fly?” He looks at you funny, then turns his attention to the two mysterious figures who have yet to introduce themselves.

“Hello, humans.” The shorter one starts awkwardly, cringing at herself. “You’ve finally awoken! That’s good.” There’s quiet— well, not really, the atmosphere is no longer muffled sounds of the forest, but now resembles a bustling town in daylight. Everything is so much louder. “W-well, my name is Alva and that’s Laila,” She nods in the other’s direction.

“What happened to us? Why did we pass out?” You question immediately, not bothering with self-introduction.

“O-oh, well, y-you both, um,” Laila starts, unable to look either of you in the eye. “What I mean to say is... you- we kind of-“

“We sprinkled you with Fairy Dust.” Alva finishes bluntly. Your jaws drop. She can’t be serious, this must be a joke. Yet you can’t bring yourself to laugh. No, she looks too serious.

“Fairy dust?” Jimin barely cracks a smile, subconsciously touching your arm to make sure this isn’t a dream.

“Y-yeah, but it appears I was a bit heavy handed. My apologies.” Laila smiles wryly, wringing her hands together nervously. “We are the fairies that live in this forest, and we need your help to save a dear comrade.” It is only then that you actually process what you’re looking at. The two of them hover in front of you, their wings fluttering gracefully like those of a hummingbird, the movement too quick for your eyes to perceive.

“Are we fairies now too?” Jimin checks his own body, then yours, inspecting you for any differences. The only thing that has changed is your size, and he sighs in relief.

“For the most part you are just tiny humans now, but we can make you wings if you so desire.” Alva deadpans, impatiently waiting for you to come to terms with the situation. She continues before you have the chance to let things sink in. “Stink bugs have infested these lands and have made their home by the water source, blocking all creatures on this side of the meadow from reaching the water’s edge. We fairies have put up a resistance to this, and in retaliation, they have kidnapped our leader. Please, we kindly ask for your help in retrieving her.”

“Why can’t you save her yourselves? Don’t you have an army?” Jimin frowns, unsure of how he feels about being this little. You may still be in shock.

“They have fortified their home with troops that protect them from land and air. In order to enter their territory, we would need to get past them, but they attack everything that they identify as being from this side of the meadow.” A chill runs up your spine. Were you willing to embark on a dangerous mission like this?

“But t-their eyesight is pretty bad, so they might not recognize you as fairies, even with wings.” Laila speaks up when she sees you wavering. “You may be able to negotiate a way in.”

“I don’t know about this.” Your boyfriend murmurs to you as he weighs your safety versus adventure. He’s always so kindhearted, so you know he wants to help them, but how far was he willing to go if danger was involved? If it was you he was worried about, you wanted to quell his fears.

“It sounds scary, honestly. But when in our lives will we get another chance to do something like this? We get to be fairies! That’ll never happen to us again.” You smile. But suddenly your eyes shoot wide, turning to the women again. “Wait, this does wear off, right? We won’t be stuck like this forever?”

“Well, there is a spell to reverse this, but the fairy you must rescue is the only one who has mastered it.” Laila offers with another apologetic look.

“Then we have to! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, we have to take advantage. These people need our help! Plus, what else are we going to do while we’re this tiny? Might as well become hero’s while we’re at it.” You chuckle, pulling a smile from him. “If it gets dangerous we’ll protect each other, promise.”

“What if something goes wrong and one of us gets hurt?” He asks. It’s uncharacteristic of him to worry like this, but this is uncharted territory so you can understand his apprehension. But as a couple you are known for your adventurous nature— hell, he’s the one who suggested going camping in the Rocky Mountains by yourselves in the first place. You won’t let him back down from this.

“What if everything goes right?” Your hand finds its way into his, squeezing in reassurance as he looks over your face. With a second more of hesitation, Jimin finally nods in agreement and the two fairies sigh in relief.

The mission they explain to you seems very much like the objective of a video game: traverse through different landscapes and hone your skills until you reach the villain’s lair, where you will then attempt to rescue the princess (or in this case, fairy leader) and defeat the villain. Of course, you will be responsible for coming up with the plan once you reach the lair because the fairies know nothing about where their leader is kept or what the stink bug king will think of you. It is entirely possible that you’ll be able to negotiate with him to release their leader and stop blocking the waterway, but it’s more exciting to think you’ll do a bit of fighting.

“We have supplies and tools for you that will be helpful for you on your journey.” Alva is kinder to you now, advising you to come along to their home to prepare for your mission.

“We don’t have wings yet...” You point out, assuming that you would fly to their abode.

“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes at you, not bothering to explain. A high pitched whistle comes from her with little effort, followed by an intense buzzing noise approaching from behind. You and Jimin turn in horror as 3 giant fireflies appear from the sky, landing weightlessly on the surface before you with a blinding flash of light. It is then that you realize that the brightness in the sky above you isn’t from sunlight, but are actually the bulbs of the fireflies you had admired before. The three in front of you dim their lights to save your eyes, peering down at you with curiously large eyes.

Laila begins to speak with them in a language of chirps and clicks, and much to your surprise, they respond energetically to her. Although you now pale in comparison to these creatures, they are still awe-inspiring; with their red upper bodies that contrast so prettily with the luminescent glow of their yellow-green rears, the hard outer wings that protect the delicate transparent wings beneath that you’ve never noticed until now. Never in your life have you expected to see any bug from this close up.

Laila lets out a laugh that brings your attention back to her. “They agreed to give us a lift home.” She seems brighter after the interaction, though she still refuses to look you in the eye. “Ah! Let me introduce you— this is Magus,” She points to the one on the right, who tilts his head down at you in what you assume to be a bow. “This is Meri,” the one on the left nods at you two as well and you nudge Jimin in his side to offer a bow back. “And this is Garnet, named for her color.” The firefly in the center lifts her wings slightly in greeting and it takes immense self control not to step back in intimidation. She is the largest of the 3 and her color is distinctly different, her body appearing as a deep shade of red mimicking that of a garnet stone, as opposed to the pinkish shade that her counterparts take on.

“Since there are two of you, you will be traveling on Garnet because she is the biggest.” Alva explains, already in the air and mounted on Magus’ back.

“Wait, you want us to ride on its back?!” Jimin seems startled as you walk ahead of him and reach your hand out to Garnet, touching her head. Normally bugs were something you feared, but you have a newfound sense of bravery that is sparked by the novelty of this experience. “(Y/n), don’t touch it!” He shouts, eyebrows furrowing cutely when your hand makes contact with the insect.

“Babe, it’s fine, stop being so wimpy.” You snicker at his distress. “She won’t hurt us, I can tell. She’s nice.” The firefly chitters at you, causing Laila to giggle.

“She says to hop on, she doesn’t bite. But if you need a nip of encouragement she’s more than willing to give you one.” Jimin shutters and takes a hesitant step forward, following your lead with a soft pat to her head. She lowers to the ground as much as she can, and the two of you hop on with Jimin in front and your arms wrapped comfortably around his waist. He can feel your smile and it gives him a little peace of mind.

“No offense, but we don’t have time for cowardice. Anything could be happening to our leader right now and the more time we waste, the more danger we put her in.” Alva cuts in sharply with a twitch of her wings.

“Grab the ropes and hold on tight.” Directing your gaze to the thin ropes seamlessly attached to the smooth surface of Garnet’s shell— by magic, you assume— you take Laila’s advice and grab onto them from behind Jimin. “I already told her where we’re going, just tap her back twice to signal when you’re ready and she’ll take off.”

“Are you ready?” Your boyfriend asks, rolling his shoulders.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” At your confirmation, he taps his hand on the hard shell and her wings open up, fluttering loudly on either side of you before you begin to lift from the ground. You rise quickly yet carefully, and you can’t help but let out an elated squeal as the earth beneath you gets farther and farther away. The footprints you left in the grass when you arrived in the meadow have somewhat disappeared as the blades slowly return to their normal standing position, but you can still see the sheer size of them compared to how small you are now. Even from high up they look enormous, each one flattening an area that would probably take you several minutes to cross on foot. But the most amazing sight of all is something that Jimin points out with a dropped jaw.

The blanket that you had both been comfortably laying on not 10 minutes prior was now unreasonably large and you struggle to comprehend the scale. If being on the back of a bug wasn’t enough, seeing your own belongings look so disproportionate compared to you is what makes you realize just how tiny you really are. It’s almost frightening being so small and fragile, the human body does not have many natural adaptations to fend off the world making this situation that much more dangerous, but having Jimin with you eases your heart significantly. He isn’t the strongest or the bravest, or even the smartest for that matter, but you know that if you work together you’ll be alright. At least that’s what you tell yourself as you cling to him on your way up into the trees, not missing the opportunity to take in the view.

You’re taken to what looks to be a treehouse, perched on one of the thin branches at the top of a tree. It could be mistaken for a small bird’s nest from the outside, but the home is actually complexly made with a variety of materials and innovation you are unfamiliar with. Jimin grabs your hand immediately after you dismount from Garnet, glancing down from your height with a silent warning. Of course he’s weary, if either of you fell from this distance you would be dead before you were halfway down the trunk. Even a fall to the next branch down would be life threatening, but you try not to think about it as you walk carefully to the entrance of the home.

“Do not touch anything.” Alva hisses as she holds the door open for you. The inside of the abode is cozier than you expected, sheltered from the chill of the night and decorated with art and color.

“Alva, don’t be so crude to our guests.” Laila scolds, wringing her hands again. She seems to be nervous once more without the presence of her firefly companions.

“Do you live here together?” You ask, moving to inspect some items on a bookshelf. Jimin smacks your hand when you go to lift something up, reminding you of Alva’s warning.

“Y-yes.” Laila nods, turning away from you when you meet her eyes. They say no more on the matter so you don’t press it. “Anyway, you’ll need a few things for your journey. We’ll accompany you most of the way, but we won’t be able to enter once we reach the stink bug’s territory so you’ll need disguises.”

“I thought you said they won’t recognize us?” Jimin questions, walking over to where Alva is hard at work crafting something on a workbench.

“The stink bugs won’t, but they have spies everywhere. We’ll have to pass through some town centers on the way there and that’s where you’ll have the highest risk of being discovered. Also, they know that the two of us are part of the resistance so they will automatically be suspicious if we’re seen traveling together.” She murmurs. You watch as she sprinkles glowing dust onto the table, grabbing tools that glow similarly and manipulating the powder with skilled hands.

“That’s Fairy Dust.” Laila whispers to you when she sees the looks of confusion on your faces. It looks just how you imagined it would.

“So, are you saying that we’ll have to go through the town centers by ourselves?” Jimin’s question makes your heart jump with nerves.

“Yes and no. We’ll have to walk through the towns since their surveillance is stricter on air traffic, but all you have to do is follow behind us and everything will be fine. We’ll go first and lead the way while you trail a safe distance behind us. We can fly together between towns, when we’re not being watched.”

“Fly?” How would you fly if you didn’t have wings like them? You’ll probably use the fireflies again, so you don’t fret, but Alva shakes her head.

“What do you think I’m doing right now?” She asks rhetorically, rolling her eyes at your stupid question. “I’m making you wings so that you can fly with us.” Just as she says this, her workspace begins to glow red.

The Fairy Dust had somehow turned into thin sheets of glass-like material while you were looking away, inflexible and cloudy in quality but now burning a bright red color. Alva whispers something under her breath as she places her hands over the material, closing her eyes in focus. The glowing intensifies and Jimin pulls you back a few steps protectively to look on at a safer distance. Amazingly, the material transforms right before your eyes into transparent and featherlight wings that mimic those of the fairies beside you. They bend when she lifts them, they look extremely frail and delicate, so thin that you almost want to doubt their capabilities in holding you up in midair.

“Turn around.” She instructs quickly to you, using two fingers to rub more Fairy Dust on the edges of each wing. You spin for her and feel her move closer before pausing. The perplexed and irritated look on her face can be felt through the thick air and you don’t even have to see her to sense it.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin dares, eyes flicking back and forth between you.

“What covers your skin?” She asks, much to your confusion. You want to answer but you honestly have no idea what she’s referring to. Neither does Jimin.

“I believe they call them ‘clothes’”. Laila responds quietly.

“Ew, remove them.” The disgust in Alva’s voice is clear, startling you. Somehow, one small detail had escaped both you and your boyfriend this entire time: the fact that the two fairies are completely naked. Their bodies are just as undefined and nondescript as their faces and the odd light they seemed to give off acted as some sort of censor, making it difficult to tell whether or not they were wearing anything. But their reactions confirm that they, indeed, are in the nude. It makes sense, humans are the only creatures to cover themselves like this. But you’re still human and the thought of roaming naked and free in this unfamiliar landscape is uncomfortable.

“Is there a way that you could put the wings on over the clothes?” You turn to allow her to see the cringe on your cheeks. “Logically, it would make sense to keep our clothes on so that when we save your leader and return to normal size, we won’t be naked and exposed in the wilderness?” It’s phrased like a question because of the intimidating glare Alva is giving you, sucking the confidence right out of your words.

Thankfully, Laila is there to back you up. “It’s true, if they aren’t wearing their coverings when they turn back, i-it will remain our size.” Alva gives her the death glare too, but surprisingly, Laila doesn’t back down.

“Fine, but if this doesn’t work, you’re making the next pair of wings.” She points to her roommate, smoothing down your shirt to get a feel for the structure of your back before gently attaching the wings. Their attachment is joined by a ticklish sensation that makes you squirm and giggle, pulling against the small hands that attempt to hold you in place. You expected it to be painful, but the ticklish feeling fades quickly followed by nothing, your extensions successfully attached. She moves onto Jimin swiftly and you grin as the cutest giggle bubbles from his throat at the feeling. The wings really suit him, he looks like a fairy prince that has come to sweep you off your feet and fly off into the distance.

“Excellent.” Laila sighs in relief when your wings move with the motion of your shoulders, steadfast and not likely to come off. “I have prepared these for you as well.” She thrusts a bag into your hands, as well as a shiny whistle. “This Fairy Dust is essential to our mission. Fairies use it to craft things and manipulate items around them, so it is imperative that you get this to our leader to aid in her rescue and escape. This whistle is to only be used in emergencies,” Placing one in Jimin’s hands, she glares when he immediately puts it to his lips. “It will call Garnet to you in case you need a ride, but she is very busy at this time of night, so try not to use it.”

“Okay! Now we’re all set to go!” Alva rushes, practically pushing you out of her house.

Laila is the only one who has patience enough to teach you to fly, speeding through a lesson and demonstration with pressure from the other woman who looks on with annoyance. To Jimin, who is always quite graceful, flying is easy. The wings on his back move to his will and it’s as if he’s dancing in the air, lifting above you and quickly using his skills to twirl and flip. You, on the other hand, struggle immensely. As soon as your feet leave the ground, balance loses all meaning to you and you toddle unsteadily, smacking into things left and right because of the uneven flutter of your propellers. You bet you look silly right now— no, you know you do because Jimin makes sure to laugh loudly every time you struggle— but this is no time for shame. Alva concludes your lesson once it’s apparent that you won’t fall out of the sky and suggests that you’ll get the hang of it as you go, barely waiting for you before taking off from the tip of the branch.

“Now, I must warn you,” She says as you rush to keep up. “These wings do have a time limit, so it’s important that we make it to the water as fast as possible before time runs out or you’ll have to walk.”

“G-got it.” You’re still uneasy, veering off to the side occasionally and nearly smacking into Laila when the wind catches you. Just when you’re starting to get dizzy from your wacky steering, a warm hand closes around your arm. Jimin smiles at you, this time not with humor but with care, and you feel yourself relax. Pulling you closer to his body, he helps you balance in order to fly straight, offering tips and holding on tight for support. Even after you’ve gotten the hang of it, he holds your hand and stays close to you.

Traveling across the meadow takes far longer than you expected and by the time you reach the first town, you’re already tired. Alva lands several meters away from the tree line, turning abruptly to face you. “We’re about to enter the shrubs. This town is full of friendly faces so it shouldn’t be too hard to spot spies, but stay on the lookout. Laila and I have to meet up with an ally in one of the shops; once we get there, stay outside in the area and try not to look suspicious.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Folding your arms, you wait for a response, but Alva simply shrugs and continues ahead.

“Just try not to bother anyone.” Laila says softly, avoiding your eyes as she speeds up to walk in front of you.

As soon as you enter the shrubs, hundreds of eyes zero in on the unfamiliar faces of you and Jimin. Some greet the fairies as they pass farther in front of you, but seem to burn holes in your back when you walk by, squeezing the hand of your boyfriend at the horrifying bugs that are now very close to your size. Ants and worms, caterpillars and centipedes all roam freely on the dense floor, chewing on fertile dirt and decaying leaves, carrying on with their lives all around you. None seem particularly threatening, but that doesn’t stop your hands from becoming incredibly sweaty in Jimin’s palm.

“I’ll protect you.” He whispers, though his voice shakes in uncertainty.

“How? There’s no way you can fight any of these things!” You whisper back through gritted teeth. Your eyes are so focused on trying not to lose sight of the women in front of you that you don’t notice the roots sticking up from the ground and trip noisily over one of them. Jimin reaches out with lightning fast reflexes and catches you before you come crashing to the ground, offering you a cheesy smile when your wide eyes lock on his before pulling you back up to your feet.

“I don’t need to fight them, I just need to save you from yourself.” You pout at his words, feeling your cheeks get hot at how embarrassing that fall must have looked. Even though you’re surrounded by bugs, you still have your pride.

Finally, Alva and Laila enter a shop, giving you a meaningful glance before disappearing inside. Jimin leads you just a little bit past the store before finding a spot to stand just opposite of its entrance so you can watch for their exit, pulling you against him as he leans against a mushroom. You take this time to take in your surroundings: the ceiling of this area is made of the dense leaves and vines of shrubs, yet it isn’t dark. Instead, everything is lit by glow-in-the-dark fungi that is speckled above and below you. Large mushrooms, like the one you sit beneath, grow in bundles in the darker places, their smell humid and pungent like a room full of mold. It tickles your nostrils and you sneeze, causing a movement from behind you.

“Oh!” Calls a voice that appears out of seemingly nowhere. Jimin moves you defensively away from the person, turning to confront them as they step from behind the fungus’ stem. “I wouldn’t sit under this if I were you. It’s smell can be quite intoxicating after a while and may cause hallucinations to those who aren’t used to it.” A male fairy steps forward, coated in Fairy Dust and naked just like your guides had been. The only difference is that he is covered in spores. This doesn’t seem to bother him, though. He eyes both you and Jimin up and down, smiling oddly at your appearance. “New around here?”

“Yes.” You answer hesitantly, but he seems nice enough.

“I can sense that you’re not fairies... Hmm, where are you from?” Just as you open your mouth to speak, Jimin cuts in.

“We’re just visiting. Who are you?”

“Ah, yes! I’m a mushroom fairy, the name’s Bayard.” He extends a hand and you shake it despite Jimin’s weary expression. “I work here and tend to the mushrooms that light this place. We don’t get visitors often, welcome!”

“Thank you! We’re actually heading to the water, do you have any helpful advice for us?” Alva and Laila said that this place was full of friends, so you want to take a chance. He seems kind and helpful and the two of you are absolutely clueless in your environment, so you figure it would be beneficial to get all the help you can get. The hand holding yours tightens, but you ignore it to listen to the fairy’s advice.

“Oh, I’ve never been to the water before, but I heard it’s pretty dangerous over there now. I say it’d be smart to invest in a weapon if you’re heading over that way.” He nods solemnly. “You can probably get one at the shop over there,” He points to a small stall next to the store your comrades entered and you sag.

“We don’t have any money, though.” You pout, using your charms on him.

“Money? Nah, you just need something to trade for it, that’s all. Here, since you seem so sweet I’ll give you something, wait here.” Bayard flies up to the head of the mushroom and you watch in awe as he collects something from its surface before coming back down to hand you 2 bags. “These are the hallucinogenic spores I was talking about. They’re worth a lot, so you should be able to trade it easily, but you could use it for your own benefit.”

“What do you mean?” You ask innocently, making him chuckle.

“Well, a good whiff of it might lead to a wild night, if you catch my drift.” He winks at Jimin and your face bursts into flames at the implications, and you can see that Jimin has a similar reaction. Bayard laughs heartily, clapping his hand together in a plume of spores that you wave away from your face. “I’m only pulling your leg. But seriously,” His expression drops so fast that a chill runs up your spine, all humor wiped from his eyes. “This is some powerful stuff. One bag of this is enough to knock out something 10x our size, so be careful. I gave you 2 bags in case you need to buy more stuff, but please, handle with care.”

“We will.” You nod, giving your bag for Jimin to hold. “Thank you so much, Bayard, this is very generous of you.”

He grins shyly. “Don’t mention it. If you ever need a friend, you know where to find me. Good luck on your travels, I gotta get back to work.” He waves you off as he disappears back behind the bundle of mushrooms, hidden in the deep shadows they cast.

“I think we should be more careful with who we talk to, (Y/n).” Jimin whispers, following you as you walk toward the shop. “We can’t tell everyone our business, they could be spies!”

“I know, but I could tell he wasn’t. Plus, he turned out to be really helpful, so everything worked out.”

“Yeah, but we could have just gotten lucky this time. This is real life, babe, you need to be more careful. You shouldn’t talk to everyone like that.” He argues back, tugging on your arm to stop you before you reach the stall. You turn to look him in the eyes.

“But if we didn’t talk to him, it would have been suspicious. We can’t go around looking nervous and jumpy because then people will start thinking we’re up to something (which we kinda are). I was just blending in.” The determined look in your eye makes him pause and he can no longer argue. Dammit, he’s always so weak when you look at him like that. And you’re so beautiful in this lighting, your eyes shining back at him and the structure of your face contoured perfectly with the subtle shadows. You’re right and he has no choice but to accept it, even if he does have more to say. You can see the moment he drops it, his face softening with the slight nod he gives you as if admitting defeat. But you’re also weak to him when he looks down at you like that, like he wants to kiss you senseless and make you forget about whatever you disagreed about. You decide to compromise. “But I’ll be more careful from now on to make your job a little easier.”

He cocks an eyebrow and tilts his head cutely in confusion.

“You said you would protect me, right? It would be rude of me to jump headfirst into danger when I know you’ll jump right in after me.” You try to shrug indifferently but it comes off as flirty, pulling a smug smirk from him as you continue your way to the shop.

It costs a whole bag of the spores Bayard gave you to acquire a weapon. Jimin chooses a small blade that the shopkeeper explains is made with Fairy Dust and can cut through even the toughest bindings. He advises that you should only use it for self defense in extreme situations and gives him a sheath to saddle on the belt loops of his pants. The sight perplexes the shopkeeper, but he sends you on your way without question.

“I know you said you’d be more careful, but you have a penchant for trouble so we’ll probably find ourselves in some bad situations. But at least I can protect you properly now.” You wrinkle your nose at his accusation, but end up chuckling at the way he brandishes the blade as though in a heated battle.

Alva clears her throat as she glides past the two of you with a twitch of her wings, announcing her presence subtly as Laila follows swiftly after, pointedly trying not to look at you and accidentally being the most obvious one in the group. You linger for a few more moments with an embarrassed Jimin, asking the shopkeeper one more question about your purchase before making a smooth exit in the footsteps of your comrades. You’re a good distance away from the shrubs before you begin flying again, catching up with the two who wait for you at a nearby tree.

“Oh my goodness, that was so nerve wracking.” Laila sighs, biting her lip.

“Sorry that took so long, but we got some great intel on the enemy.” Jimin reaches for your hand again when you take off even though you’re infinitely better at flying now. You act like you aren’t affected as you try to listen to Alva’s words. “We’re about to pass a carcass so we’ll need to go around, but it has a spy checkpoint on each side so we’ll have to split up when we cross them to avoid suspicion. Be on the lookout for a shady looking ant and a really chunky maggot. Laila and I will do the talking, but don’t answer any of their questions in too much detail if they ask you directly.”

The way she lists off the warnings makes you sweat. What would happen if you got caught? Yes, this was a once in a lifetime adventure, but the danger is not lost on you. Jimin is right, this is real life and you could get seriously hurt or worse if things go south. You had to rescue their leader, this had to work because she is the only one that can return you to human size, and that realization settles uncomfortably in your stomach. Separating from Jimin only makes the feeling worse.

“We’ll be traveling together,” Alva informs you once you land, instructing Laila and Jimin where to meet. Your eyebrows crease with worry and you quickly grab his arm before he leaves.

When you don’t say anything, he gives you a soft smile, reading your eyes. “What happened to all that bravery you had back there?” He teases.

“I was confident because we were together. How can we look out for each other if we’re not together?” The only thing you can think of that’s worse than you getting captured, is if he got captured without you. It’s not just about him protecting you, you want to watch over him too.

“We’ll be fine. Alva and Laila will keep us safe.” They both nod at you.

“Yes, we’ll do everything in our power to keep you two safe.” Laila adds in her timid voice, glancing up at your eyes.

“Okay...” You reluctantly let go of him and watch them start to walk away. “Please be careful!” He sends you a thumbs up as he gets farther away. The starlight above you is partially covered by the trees, making this area much darker than the meadow had been. Fireflies flicker in the distance but it still isn’t bright enough to see him clearly as he continues on.

“Come on. The faster we go through this, the sooner you’ll be reunited.” For the first time, Alva offers words of consolation, and you’re almost shocked that she has sympathy for you. She mumbles in a quieter voice than usual. “I’m not thrilled about splitting from them either, but this is the safest way. If we all went through together, that would definitely raise some red flags.”

“Why couldn’t we just follow you like we did back there?” She scoffs.

“Not many newcomers cross these parts alone. You two would never make it past the spies without being noticed. Even with us, it’s a risk. I just hope Laila’s okay.” This is the first time you’ve actually seen her worried and for the second time in a row, you’re baffled. This entire time Alva has been hardened and crude, but now she seems almost as worried as you. You can’t help but ask.

“You seem to have a soft spot for her. Do you have feelings for her?” She knows you’re teasing by the lilt in your voice, and you see her wings twitch, something you’re beginning to notice that signifies her annoyance. Her eyes roll so hard you think they’ll get stuck in her head.

“Of course I have feelings for her. In human terms, we’re dating, why do you think we live together?”

“Oh!” You chuckle nervously, feeling a bit dumb. You saw only one bed in their home but thought little of it, and now much of their decor makes sense. There’s an awkward silence for a while and you can’t for the life of you think of anything else to talk about. You wish the ground beneath you would just open up and swallow you whole. Thankfully, she breaks the silence for you.

“We learned another important detail that I didn’t mention,” She waits until you glance over at her. “We found out that the stink bug king plans to marry our leader, so it would probably be smart for you to come up with a plan to intercept this.” You sigh in thought, turning your gears to come up with a plan.

The smell of the carcass is much worse than Jimin imagined, it hits them long before they reach the body. Laila leads him to the right side of the unidentifiable animal, a heap of fur, bones, and flesh in the middle stages of decomposition thanks to the abundance of bugs and fungi working diligently to break it down. They stop before the animal as Laila crafts 2 masks from her own bag of Fairy Dust, handing one to him to reduce the horrific smell as they trek on. He tries to ignore the sounds of the ecosystem feasting on its prey, and thankfully his partner offers a distraction.

“I know you’re worried about your girlfriend, but Alva will protect her. And I will protect you.” He notices that she easily makes eye contact with him, unlike before. “Stink bugs aren’t vicious, they’re just resilient and armored, making them tough to beat. But hopefully we won’t have to fight.”

“I know she’ll be alright, I have faith in her. She probably won’t get caught by the spy, she’s too smart for that.” His words are genuine, yet his heart still races at the possibilities. A darkness eclipses his face that she catches onto immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice is so gentle that he has no problem opening up to her.

“If she gets captured or hurt it’ll be my fault. I brought her out to the meadow to have a romantic date, but instead it ended up putting her in danger. We should have stayed at the campsite.”

“No.” Laila says firmly, causing him to yank his head up in surprise. “If anything, this is my fault. I chose you because you were the only ones around that could help us, but I could have left you alone. If anything happens, I am to blame.” He says nothing to this, not quite accepting it, but she seems steadfast so he won’t argue. “I apologize for not asking sooner, but what is your name?”

“Jimin.”

“And what is hers?”

“(Y/n)~” He says your name almost dreamily compared to his own, a smile subconsciously finding its way to his lips. She grins.

“Do you love her?” Laila doesn’t seem to be the blunt type, but this is obviously amusing. Especially with the way his ears color red at that one question.

“I- I don’t know if I know what love is,” is his response.

“I think you do. I see how you look at her, how you smile when you think of her, the way that you say her name with such delicacy; I bet you don’t even realize how lovestruck you look when she’s around.” Jimin turns away from her to avoid her eyes, bringing a hand to his warming cheeks. He mumbles something under his breath. “I know because that’s how I am with Alva and I love her very much.”

“Alva? Wait, are you-?”

“Yes, she is my girlfriend.” The confirmation makes his jaw drop, some pieces falling together just as they had for you. “Never be embarrassed by your feelings, they can be a source of power at times like these. It is because you love her so much that I know you’d do anything to keep her safe, and I have no doubt that she is exactly the same way. This mission will be a success, I can feel it. You should tell her how you really feel when this is all over.”

“Oh... I don’t know about that. What if she doesn’t feel the same way...”

“She’s intelligent, compassionate, outgoing, brave, charming, and above that, so beautiful that everyone around takes notice— a woman like that can be pretty intimidating. But trust me, she loves you too. Though I haven’t known you two for long, I can see how her body language changes with you, that sparkle in her eyes whenever you interact. She’s just as lovesick for you as you are for her. But I won’t pressure you.”

Laila is a lot wiser and more perceptive than he originally expected. She hadn’t looked you in the eye much— which he now knows is because you intimidate her more than her own intense girlfriend does— but it seems she’s picked up on a lot about both of you in this short time. Maybe her observations are right and you do love him back. But this feels like an inappropriate time to confess to you, so he decides he’ll keep it in for now.

As he’s ruminating on that idea, a huge tan bug crawls in front of them, blocking their path with its large body. Upon closer inspection, Jimin comes to the conclusion that it is a maggot, and it is indeed very “chunky”. It’s at least 3x his size, towering over them and angling it’s head in their direction. He can’t see its eyes, but it apparently can see them, turning its attention to Laila.

“It’s been a while, Laila. Haven’t seen you around these parts lately.” The breath that billows out from its mouth is even more rancid than the corpse it was feasting on, the stench so pointed that it slices through the barrier of their masks. It almost brings tears to Jimin’s eyes as he tries to refrain from gagging.

“Yes, well, I’ve been busy in the meadow, so I haven’t had the time to come out this far.” She replies easily, not the slightest quiver in her voice present. The maggot hums.

“And who is this?” Turning to face Jimin, it gives an interested tilt of the head and leans in closer, its pincers coming just inches away from his face. The smell is vile, beyond sickening, and if it were to have a color, he’s sure it’s breath would be the most impure black sludge— yes, sludge, because it is too thick to be a gas— imaginable. As black as death itself. The most he can do is hold his breath.

“He is simply visiting the area. We’re just passing through.” Laila answers, but it hisses at her to hush.

“Visiting? What business do you have visiting here?” The hairs on the back of Jimin’s neck stand straight, every cell in his body telling him to run, yet he stands frozen. The pincers in front of his face are large enough to bite his head off and he gets the sense that if he doesn’t say something convincing, that’s exactly what his fate will be.

“I’m visiting my cousin.” He rasps out, his head feeling light from running out of air.

“What cousin?”

“Um, h-his name is Bayard. He’s a mushroom fairy that lives in the shrubs.” At this the maggot leans away, finally allowing Jimin to take a breath of the slightly less offensive air.

“Bayard, huh?” He nods quickly, watching nervously as the insect snaps its jaws in thought. Does it know him? If it does, there’s a chance that Jimin will be caught in his lie, that somehow it will know that Bayard does not have any visiting relatives and that he’s not who he says he is. He and Laila share a tense stare as the bug takes a few seconds to process before it bursts into laughter. “He’s a crazy bastard, isn’t he?” They sigh in relief and Jimin nods along, forcing out a laugh. “Why isn’t he showing you around? I would’ve loved if he came to visit, I don’t get to see him often.”

“Oh you know, he’s busy working. You know how he is about his mushrooms.” They laugh again and the air seems to get a bit thinner.

“Ah, well, we’ll tell him you said hello. For now, though, we must get going.” Laila interrupts, much to his relief. The hefty maggot walks forward, opening the path for them once again and nods its head at them.

“Safe travels!” It wishes them well as they pass, watching as they continue around the side of the carcass, no longer conversing with each other but making headway straight out of the area. It isn’t until they reach the rendezvous point that Laila finds the courage to speak again, holding both hands over her chest as if she were in pain.

“That was close. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, I don’t know what would’ve happened.” Then she tilts her head and looks up at him quizzically. “How do you know of Bayard, anyway?”

“(Y/n) befriended him in the last town.” Jimin rubs the back of his neck, thinking back to how upset he was about you speaking to strangers like that and how silly he looks now. Without you, he wouldn’t have made it out of that situation. Maybe he should have more faith in your instincts— they may just be your way of protecting him.

It takes several minutes before you and Alva emerge from your side of the animal. Alva is nodding at you, looking apprehensive, but you seem determined and sure.

“Let’s not tell Jimin, though. He probably won’t approve.” You whisper to her just out of earshot before you reach them, smiling in relief when you see that they made it here safely. You didn’t encounter your spy, though you did see him interrogating someone else who was passing through, and when you tell him this he shakes his head at the rare good luck you’ve just experienced. He tells you about the Bayard lie as you wrap your arms around him briefly and you laugh in a way that says “I told you so”— and it is then that he notices the look that Laila was talking about. The one you give him when you’re hanging onto every word he says like it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever heard. His heart flutters at the thought. Laila and Alva share a meaningful look but say nothing, coaxing you onward with your journey.

This place has a worse atmosphere than the carcass you just passed, you can feel it. Supposedly, this is the last obstacle in your path before you reach the water, and even Alva seems on edge about what lies ahead. A fallen log stands before you, decaying and riddled with plant-life, fungus, and insects. Hostility leaks from every crevice of the black wood, the breeze itself seeming to carry a sneer as it blows past it.

“Okay, a word of advice before we continue,” Alva begins, slowing her pace in order to turn and face you as you fly. “Unlike the shrubs, this place is full of shady characters, so do not stop to talk to anyone or anything. That being said, keep your eyes peeled as we pass through, the creatures here will feast on anything that moves— and that includes you.”

“Also,” Laila casts her eyes down away from you. “Your wings will likely start to disintegrate soon. We’ll have to fly through this area because we’ll be too slow on foot, therefore putting us in more danger. The wings should last long enough to make it out of here if we fly, but it will be close, so we can’t have any interruptions or stops.” You both nod grimly, biting on your lip as a dark feeling swells within you.

It’s a gut feeling that alerts you to the danger up ahead, and you mindlessly reach for Jimin’s hand for comfort. He doesn’t seem to be as nervous aside from the warnings the two of them explain, and you wonder if you’re being paranoid.

“Why can’t we just fly over or around it?” You ask, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. Alva gives you a frustrated sigh before explaining once again how closely the skies are monitored, going against your plan to slip through undetected. But you can hardly say that this route is any safer.

It’ll be easy to stay out of trouble if you just stay off the ground though, right? Fly over the heads of everyone and make it out of this area before any real damage can be done. You cling onto that ideal as you watch Laila and Alva enter the center of the log, moving slowly until you and Jimin follow behind them.

“Please stay close to me.” You whisper to him— more like a plea because of the growing anxiety building in the pit of your stomach, your gut feeling worsening as you near the entrance.

“I will. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you.” Softly, he presses a kiss to your forehead, but even that doesn’t help you shake this feeling.

It’s dark and muggy within the rotting wood, the lack of light contrasting even with the dimness of the night sky. Glowing fungi are speckled against the walls of the log, but it is nowhere near as bright as it had been in the shrubs, leaving many areas cloaked in shadows. Jimin holds onto you tightly, his other hand feeling for the blade equipped to his pants. Your nervousness is unsettling; he can feel how cold and clammy your hands have become, the slight tremor of your body as your heart races within. He wishes he could reassure you, but you have amazing instincts and he doubts anything he says could contest against the physical reaction you’re exhibiting at this moment. All he can do is prepare himself.

The fairies in front of you seem to shine against the blackness, making them easy to follow. You execute your plan for flying as high as possible in the somewhat cramped tunnel, almost scraping your head against the ceiling in your effort to avoid the crude faces that crawl underneath. Insects hide in the crevices of the jagged walls, disturbed and squirming as you whoosh past their lairs. Something about them makes you think they’re blind, but you wouldn’t know for sure since you won’t give yourself enough time to inspect them.

Something brushes your arm when the tunnel narrows, causing you to gasp and jerk embarrassingly only to realize that it was just soft moss. You give a sheepish look to Jimin when he turns to you. “Sorry, I’m a little jumpy.” So far, you haven’t encountered anything of noteworthy danger and you’re almost halfway through the log, and you start to think that maybe you were just being paranoid.

As you move along, the wood gets denser and the pathways become smaller, only allowing one person at a time. Laila’s wings are still visible due to the waning light, but you’ll have to fly faster if you want to keep an eye on them, so Jimin flies ahead of you since he’s generally faster and better at flying than you. Reluctantly, you release his hand and follow close behind, blind to what lies in front of you and solely relying on him to guide you forward.

“You okay?” He asks quietly, unable to turn and look at you.

“Yeah, keep going.” Is your quiet response, trailing right on his heels. “Can you still see them?”

“Just barely. Let’s try to go a little faster, I don’t think our wings will last too much longer.” Jimin can sense how his body seems to feel heavier on his wings. The transparent material of them is getting thinner and he isn’t sure how much longer they’ll be able to hold him up before they become unusable.

“Okay, I can keep up.” Picking up the pace, you start to feel less weary of the life around you. Nothing seems interested in your presence as you float by and that’s exactly how you like it.

The path opens up into a hollow section, allowing you more space, and you shift to the left of Jimin in order to see around him briefly. You intended to catch a glimpse of your guides, laser focusing your eyes in front of you so intensely that your surroundings are forgotten. Jimin remains in your peripheral as you squint through the darkness, but in an instant, he zips by and leaves you behind. Confused, you turn around to see if you got snagged on something and find yourself losing your balance and landing on something sticky. Long threads form a net around you and it dawns on you that they are the cause of your immobility— so naturally, you try to shake free from them, only to find that the more you struggle, the more parts of you become stuck. You barely have any time to process what this could possibly mean before several long legs emerge from the corner of your eye.

“It looks like there’s light up ahead. We’re almost out, (Y/n)!” Jimin smiles in relief, eyes still watching for the pair of wings that flutter several centimeters ahead. But when you don’t respond, his eyebrows crease. “(Y/n)?” Before he can even turn around, a blood curdling scream rips through his ears, the voice sounding alarmingly similar to yours. He spins around and immediately notices that you are no longer right behind him. How long have you been gone?! He races backwards toward the source of the scream, fear and worry bubbling in his chest with every second it takes to reach you as you let out another deafening scream.

The first thing he sees is the underside of an enormous body with 8 hairy legs protruding menacingly from its center. They splay out methodically to walk the thin cords beneath it with the expertise of a tight rope walker, graceful, long, and elegant in the most wretched way. Next, he spots you, placed in the center of its legs, completely caged in and frozen by the sheer size of the arachnid above you and shaking in terror. Jimin’s eyes drag up to find 8 odd black orbs locked on yours, sitting just above open jaws aimed directly at you. Before he can even stop himself, he’s calling out your name.

“(Y/n)!” It’s more of a reaction of surprise, but it catches the attention of the spider, who looks up from its prey with glazed eyes. But he is not the one that’s caught in its web, so it quickly returns its interest to you.

“Jimin?!” You cry out with an unsteady voice.

“I’m here, baby! Just stay calm.”

“How?!” You can’t see him because of how your back is facing his direction, but you can hear how panicked he sounds. He knows that spiders are your weakness. You suffer from mild arachnophobia and he’s sure that encountering a spider that is many times larger than you and moments away from eating you is intensifying that fear unimaginably. He has to think fast.

The first thing he can think of is to distract it, so he breaks off a piece of wood and taps it to the web, sending vibrations that catch the attention of the previously uninterested insect. It glances over with curiosity before making its way to the other side of the web to inspect the swinging wood chip that is now attached to the threads on one end. Taking this opportunity, Jimin runs over to you and pulls out his knife, praying to everything that it is holy that it really can cut anything. If this fails, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He tries to break one of the threads with a quick slice, but when he brings the knife down, it promptly bounces off as though he had hit a steel wire, instead sending more vibrations that bring the spider back over to you. It hisses loudly, likely upset that he’s trying to steal its dinner, and it lunges at him with its fangs, barely missing him through the web. He falls backwards, but catches himself with his wings unsteadily.

He tries the same method again and again, shaking the already stuck stick to lure the spider over, then swinging his blade at the thick bindings that refuse to release you, to no avail.

“It’s not working! And I don’t have enough time to break the web because of the spider!” He’s clearly distressed, using all his force to push down and break the web that has the integrity of metal. Spider webs break easily to a human, but it’s an entirely different monster when you’re this small. This knife, this stupid knife that cost him an entire bag of spores is doing absolutely nothing, and his frustration grows with each slice.

Wait, that’s it!

“Jimin, the spores! Do you still have them?” The words come out hurried and jumbled, but miraculously he understands.

“Yeah, why?” He looks up at you, but swiftly jumps out of the way when the spider returns. This time it won’t leave you, guarding your body from the intruder, repeatedly striking and hissing at him to leave. The wings that hold Jimin up are weakening, he has to hurry or he won’t be able to reach you from the ground.

“Throw them on the spider! Bayard said that one bag is enough to ‘knock out something 10x our size’, you can use it to buy time and cut me out!” As you’re explaining, Jimin reaches for the pouch in his pocket, opening it to look at the small particles piled up inside. He isn’t sure if it’ll work as well as you hope but he has to try, so with only a second of hesitation, he looks back up at the colossus on top of you.

“Hold your breath.” Once he hears you inhale, the bag of spores is flung straight into the face of the spider, some getting in its mouth, most of it landing on and around its head, caught in the hairs that line its body. Your eyes close as they float around you, but you can feel how the spider stumbles back in shock, trying to shake the particles from itself. Jimin immediately gets to work with the knife, trying a sawing approach this time with every bit of hope poured into his efforts. Thankfully, the string breaks with just 2 back and forth motions, loosening the integrity of the web just the slightest bit. He works fast, snapping each connection around you until you’re falling backwards into his arms and away from the staggering monster.

He grabs your arm and pulls you along as you attempt to gather yourself, flying as best you can with the few unbroken strands still stuck to your wings, but you won’t let that stop you now.

“We’re not gonna make it, our wings are-“ You try to say, but Jimin cuts you off.

“There’s light up ahead, we just have to make it there.” Fairy Dust has begun to fall from both of your wings, leaving a shimmering trail behind you as you push them to their limit. They can barely carry you an inch off the ground now, but that’s all you need as long as you make it to the light. But of course, it’s never that easy. As if on cue, the spider comes barreling through the log from behind, its eyes crossed and confused as it swerves up the sides of the tunnel in pursuit of you, its legs scraping the dead wood and causing crackling and falling pieces avalanching down.

You scream, pushing yourself even harder to escape your doom, ducking under protruding chunks and narrow openings desperately. You know the feeling when something’s chasing you and you feel like it’s just a step away at all times just teasing you, waiting to grab you, and you can swear you feel them breathing down your neck no matter how far back they are? Yeah, this is one of those situations. Except the spider actually is just a step away, and the only reason it hasn’t caught you yet is because of the spores in its lungs. It lunges forward aggressively, just barely missing you and grazing the side of your right arm— had its aim been any better, you surely would be dead. It hallucinates several versions of you flying before its eyes, your screams echoing off the walls and damaging its overwhelmed senses. It stumbles, using its front leg to reach for you and barely missing your side with the razor edge of its claws, a feature you hadn’t known existed until now. But the claws are very real and your torn shirt is proof.

The light that Jimin was talking about suddenly emerges, the dim starlight seeming as bright as the sun compared to the dark that engulfed you within this black wood, and for a moment, hope sparks in your chest. But your heart drops to your stomach when both of you suddenly fall to the floor, your wings finally giving out as they continue to disappear. You scramble to your feet and take the lead, glancing back at the spider that is squeezing his way through the tiny opening you and Jimin managed to slip through, spitting foul noises at you out of rage.

“Up here!” Shelf fungi line the walls, creating a convenient ladder up to the top of the log that you climb, finding strength you never knew you had to pull yourself up each one. Jimin is close behind, pushing at your feet when you struggle near the top, but his eyes widen at the sight of the spider with half of its body through the opening, its legs flailing and scratching to pull itself through. The mushrooms end just a body length from the ledge of the log, your freedom just fingertips away, but you can’t reach from your height and you don’t have the strength to pull yourself all the way up.

Jimin nudges you out of the way, the adrenaline pumping wildly through his veins allowing him to jump up and grab hold of the ledge and pull himself up, disappearing on the other side; and for a moment you fear that he’ll leave you here. You gasp when your eyes meet the dizzy ones of your pursuer, it’s body nearly free, and panic rises within you like never before.

“(Y/n)!” Jimin calls, and you look up to find his hands reaching down to grab you, his hair and the top of his forehead the only thing visible. Without wasting another second, you jump up and grab his hands, and with strained grunts, he helps pull you up to his level on the outside of that Hell. “Where do we go now?”

You’re high up, really high, and it’s a long way down without your wings. Honestly, you hadn’t thought this far, but now isn’t the time to stop and think, not when you hear the sound of splintering wood and hissing beneath you. Jimin follows as you run forward, looking to the end of the timber suspiciously.

“(Y/n), what’s your plan here?!” The edge is nearing alarmingly fast and it looks to him like you intend to run right off the side. He wishes he could say that he was thinking of a plan too, but his mind becomes blank with terror the moment the spider re-emerges from the opening. It takes a few seconds to find you before chasing, its speed significantly slower now thanks to the spores, but it is enough to drive you forward with no hope of turning back. Leaving the only option to jump off the side. But you couldn’t be thinking that, there’s no way, because from this height you’d both break your legs from the landing, at best.

“Do you trust me?” You ask, your eyes determined. You can’t be thinking what he thinks you are. But despite his worries, he answers without hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You pull out the whistle stored away in your pocket and blow, the noise barely audible over the bustle of the night. You blow into it again, this time longer, but nothing happens and the ledge is right in front of you. The skies are empty, few bugs crossing your paths as you come to a stop and look around, the creaking wood below your feet mocking you as you stand still. “Are you sure you trust me?” Jimin nods. “We need to jump.”

“Jump?!” He’s not sure he heard you right. But then again, what choice does he have? The spider seems drunk behind you, clumsily galloping toward you with eyes that look through you, and if it doesn’t eat you it’ll surely smack directly into you and push you off the cliff, spelling your doom either way. Jimin watches as you blow the whistle again and step closer to the edge, looking down at the drop with that determined look he’s seen so many times. You’re serious. But you haven’t been wrong yet, so with a deep breath, he steps up next to you. “I trust you.”

He doesn’t say this with a tone that holds doubt, it's a definitive statement. And that makes you smile. Even if you are leading him to your deaths, you know Jimin has his full faith in you, so you take his hand and pray that this works. On your count, you both jump, your lips on the whistle that you continue to blow. As air rushes past your face, you squeeze Jimin’s hand and search your surroundings during the slowest, most uncertain seconds of your life.

Suddenly, a flash of green and red appears with lightning speed and before you know it, you’re landing on the hard back of the creature with a force strong enough to drop her a couple of inches and rip your hand out of Jimin’s. He lands straight in the center of Garnet’s back, but you skid off the side, grabbing at the smooth surface of her body helplessly. But Jimin has quick reflexes and latches onto your arm, using his strength for the second time to pull you onto Garnet’s back. You secure your arms around him tightly as he holds the reins and tells her to take you to Alva and Laila, who are probably already out of the log and waiting for you. Hopefully she can understand what he’s asked. Looking up, you catch sight of the spider just as it careens off the edge of the wood, following you blindly with now uncontrolled limbs and foggy eyes, it’s body narrowly missing you as it falls all the way to the ground, crumpled into an unconscious heap. That uneasy feeling in your stomach almost immediately subsides, and you tighten your arms around your boyfriend with a sigh of relief, burying your face in his shoulder and breathing in his scent to calm your pounding heart.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?” His worry is heavy and it warms you.

“I’m fine, just a little shaken up.” It’s probably just the shock, but you feel oddly at ease. You know that later— maybe tomorrow— you’ll be freaking out about your worst nightmare nearly coming true if it weren’t for Jimin. “Thank you for saving me.”

Your surroundings are serene, the night air warm and soothing. The landscape is pretty from this perspective. Full of hidden terrors and thrills, everything looking so peaceful despite you nearly losing your life moments ago.

“I said I would protect you.” He smiles cockily, and you giggle into his shirt. “But seriously, you did most of the work. We make a great team; let’s keep working together.” If Jimin was being honest, he doesn’t think he’d be able to save you if it wasn’t for your quick wit. His brain is no good in times of trial, he freezes up mentally, and though he jumps into action without a second thought, he rarely has the capacity to come up with an effective plan. You are certainly the brains of the operation, and the more he thinks about it, the more attractive your intelligence becomes. He wouldn’t want to be in this situation with anyone else in the world, and he means that with his whole heart.

When Garnet lands, Laila runs over to you, helping you and Jimin off her back with care and concern. She looks you over, gasping at the tear in your shirt. “What happened?! You disappeared toward the end and we heard screams, but Alva said we couldn’t go back. I was so worried for you! Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

You explain what happened bashfully, feeling embarrassed that you were the one to screw up the plan, but neither of the fairies seem upset by it.

“We’re just glad you made it out alright.” Alva reassures in a rare moment of sentiment.  “Do you still have the Fairy Dust?”

Thankfully, the bag remains untouched and secure around your waist. You weren’t thinking about it during that near death experience, but you’re glad that it wasn’t lost in all the action. After Laila takes the time to physically examine you to make sure you actually weren’t hurt, they lead you ahead to the last leg of your journey.

Though they had talked at length about the stink bugs’ fortress, you were completely unprepared by the sheer number of bugs that were involved. You were forced to go the rest of the way on foot and had the chance to see the change in landscape that came as you neared the water. Where you would expect luscious plant growth you were instead met with hole riddled leaves and weeds, plants wilting with eaten roots, and scarred fruit littering the area, much different from the land closer to the meadow. Laila explains that these bugs are rapidly expanding their feeding grounds and will soon take over this side of the stream, and the thought sends a chill up your spine. But it isn’t until the water is in sight that you see the perpetrators of all this damage.

It’s almost like a swarm of bugs appears out of thin air once you cross a certain threshold, all of them crawling from under rocks and holes in the ground, flying up from plants where they were once hidden, and disgusted chills overcome you again at the sight of them. Jimin steps closer to you, putting an arm out in front of your body protectively when they form a wall in front of the 4 of you.

Laila steps forward, walking up to meet one bug that stands in the center of them all. She communicates with it for a few seconds, again amazing you with her lingual skills, and when she’s done, it turns away and flies in the opposite direction, leaving its army to stand guard. You don’t know what she said, or what is even happening right now as you seem to be standing in a stalemate, so you decide to ask.

“Was that the leader?” You whisper, as if speaking any louder would break the tension and prompt fighting with the soldiers ahead of you.

“No,” Alva answers, looking at her girlfriend’s back as she stands strong. “That’s only a messenger. I think she has asked to speak directly to the leader and the messenger agreed.”

“You think?” Jimin questions, tilting his head.

“Yeah, Alva, why don’t you know how to speak to bugs? Isn’t that a power you fairies have?” You join, blinking at her innocently.

“No it’s not some inherent power all fairies have, it’s a skill. A skill that I do not possess.”

“Well why not? I think it would be useful to learn.” You nod in agreement to Jimin’s words.

“Laila could probably teach you! Hey, babe, did you know they’re dating?” You ask excitedly, ignoring the winged woman to converse with your own significant other, but she cuts in quickly.

“This isn’t about me!” Her wings flick and you both stop talking, wordlessly returning your attention to the front where the bug returns with another creature in tow.

“Why the long look, Laila? Aren’t you glad to see me?” The voice of a man cuts through the air and you look up to find a thin fairy fluttering toward you, landing a few steps away from your comrade as she glares intensely at him. He’s colored brown similarly to the bugs he commands, but he is so twig-like that you could mistake him for a stick insect with wings. His features are as undefined as every other fairy you’ve encountered so far, but you can still tell he’s grinning by the way he opens his arms merrily.

“That’s their leader?” You whisper to your boyfriend, who looks on with the same shocked expression you wear.

“I have no desire to see your face.” Laila spits, shocking you even further. “You kidnapped Nissa, you do not deserve my kindness.”

“Is that so?” His arms drop to his sides. “Then, what brings you here, oh fair and beautiful warrior?” She visibly cringes at his words, Alva also wrinkling her face at his unwanted compliments.

“We’ve come to negotiate for our leader,” Alva speaks up, stepping closer to him to draw his attention. He scoffs, saying something about the two women not being allowed into his territory in order to negotiate, but she stands firm. “That is why we have brought ambassadors with us this time; surely, they are not banned as well?” His eyes then shift to yours, squinting at you and Jimin with a perplexed look. It’s probably the clothes that are throwing him off, you think.

“And what have they come to offer me? Will my sweet Laila finally trade herself in for her leader and become my bride?” A goofy smile crosses his lips, but it’s quickly wiped away with your next words.

“No, I will. I’ll become your bride in exchange for their leader.”

“What?” Jimin turns to you so fast that you think he’ll give himself whiplash, staring at you in disbelief. He must have heard you incorrectly, why would you say something like that? Placing his hands on your shoulders, he turns you to look at him, checking your face for any hints of a lie. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious, Jimin.” You say, looking back at his eyes. “If I offer myself to him, then Nissa will be free to go and there’s a chance for this place to be saved.”

“Yeah, but... we’re not even fairies. We don’t belong here. Why would you trade your own freedom for them?”

“Just because we aren’t one of them, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do everything in our power to help them. Their situation is hopeless without us, I can’t just sit here and let them suffer— not when I can do something about it.” It’s not that Jimin didn’t want to help them, it’s just that he’s not willing to give you up in exchange. And yes, all of your plans have worked so far, but this is going a little overboard.

“I want to help them too, but isn’t there another way?”

“This is the best way.” You say resolutely.

“But I can’t let you, (Y/n)! I can’t let you live with bugs for the rest of your life. Forget that, I can’t let you marry anyone else! I want to be the one you spend the rest of your life with— I love you! And I’m not willing to give you up for anything.” Your heart skips at his confession, your resolve wavering for a second. He’s never said anything like that to you before and it almost makes you dizzy with emotion. “I said I would keep you safe through all of this, and if we learned anything throughout this experience it’s that we need to work as a team, so it would be irresponsible of me to let you go through with this. Don’t forget, this is real life, no matter how surreal it seems, and you have a life to go back to after this.” His eyes are pleading, but you’ve already decided on this.

“You said you trusted me.” You say quietly, lip in a straight line.

“I do, but-“

“Do you trust me?” You ask again, his mouth left open with unspoken words. He takes a moment to answer, dropping his head.

“Yes.”

“Then trust that I know what I’m doing. We’re still a team, babe, I can’t do this without you. Go save their leader and trust that I’ll be okay. I have a feeling that everything will turn out well in the end.” Though his heart is hurting, Jimin let’s go of your shoulders, frowning deeply with conflicting emotions swimming in his eyes. For who?, he wants to ask, but he can’t say anything more.

“Now that I look at you, you are quite pretty.” The fairy walks up to you, bowing and kissing your hand. “Hello, I’m Hix. And you are?”

“(Y/n).” You reply simply, his lips feeling ticklish on your hand like when the wings were being attached to your back.

“And what are you, exactly?” He directs the question to both you and Jimin, but Laila answers.

“Humans. From a distant land.” Her arms are crossed and she’s still giving him the most disgusted look possible, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’ve never seen a human before... they must be rare. Esteemed much higher than a fairy leader.” Hix thinks aloud, a finger on his chin. After a few seconds of deliberation, he comes to the conclusion that this is a worthy trade. “Come with me. We can discuss this further once we’re inside.”

“What about him?” You point to Jimin and Hix pauses, raising an eyebrow.

“What about him?” He asks incredulously.

“He should come with us. He’s my... assistant.” You say slowly, hoping the excuse works. None of this matters if Jimin isn’t welcome in the fortress with you. Hix accepts with little thought, leading you away with a short farewell to your fairy accomplices, but Alva pulls Jimin aside as he passes her.

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)’s a smart girl and she can talk her way out of almost anything. She has a plan, just make sure you get Nissa out of there.” She leaves him with that as he follows you through the army of stink bugs, each of them dispersing once you reach the fortress.

His home is nothing to brag about, it doesn’t come close to the innovation and beauty of Laila and Alva’s place, but it is structurally sound and complex, so it has a few things going for it. It’s colors are of mud and dead plants, it’s foundations rooted in the bleak gray of smooth stones, and you find it to be quite depressing.

“Do you live here alone?” You ask. You can’t imagine staying in a place like this all by yourself. Maybe that’s why he’s so desperate to find a wife.

“Yes. I also built this place by myself, so it’s very personal.” The smile on his face is proud and your eyebrows scrunch in sympathy. He leads you two to a wide room before he remembers that Jimin is with you, turning abruptly to face him.

“You may leave us now, assistant.” He commands rudely, and you reach for Jimin’s hand just as he makes his exit.

“Here. Take this to her.” You whisper, slipping the bag of Fairy Dust to him discreetly. Of course, he’s reluctant to leave you alone with this strange fairy, but you seem confident so he’ll do his best for you. Since there is no one else around, not even guard bugs, he is free to roam the fortress, and he enters a hallway to begin the search for Nissa.

The building is much more complex than he expected. The hallways wind and most lead to dead ends, leaving him confused in a maze of empty, doorless rooms. Jimin finds that the fortress isn’t completely deserted, there were a few close calls with some bugs that were monitoring certain hallways, but after searching surrounding areas he comes to the conclusion that they must be guarding something important.

Maybe I can just walk past them? He thinks, biting his plush bottom lip as he spies on the occupied corridor from around the corner. He is a guest here after all. But what would he do if they questioned him, or worse, what if they attacked? Since he knows none of their language and he isn’t sure they can understand him, he goes with a stealth tactic.

Shimmying along the brown walls, Jimin moves as slowly as possible so as not to draw any attention to himself. There’s another turn up ahead, just before the entry way that the insects keep watch over, and the plan is to slip into it and cause a distraction in the opposite direction to get them to walk away. He thinks he’s seen that in a movie somewhere, but he’s praying it’ll work in real life. The halls are wide to accommodate the girth of the shelled backs of Hix’s soldiers and Jimin feels exposed, inching his way toward the opening and hoping they don’t spot him. Of course, the bugs are low to the ground, crawling around on all fours which would make his feet very easy to spot from their vantage point, but they appear to be talking with one another, their heads so small compared to their bodies that he can’t even see their mouths. They probably wouldn’t be able to do much if they did decide to attack, but he wouldn’t risk it to find out. He continues at his painstaking pace noiselessly, holding his breath to make 2 bold leaps into the opening, so close to them that the breeze from his motion causes them to look up.

They make a noise but make no attempts to investigate, and after a few silent seconds, Jimin throws out his distraction. The only thing he has on him is the whistle Laila gave him and the bag of Fairy Dust, so he fishes the small shiny tool out of his pocket and holds it in his palm, hoping dearly that he won’t need it in the future. He isn’t even sure Nissa is behind this door, so losing important items could be costly, but he has to trust himself. You’re counting on him after all. And you’d probably come up with a silly plan like this if you were in his situation too. He tries to have a little more faith. With 2 short deep breaths, Jimin gathers his courage and throws the whistle down the hall, snatching his head back behind the cover and closing his eyes when it clinks loudly against the dry walls. Now he’s caught—he’s sure— because they have to walk right past him to reach the noise and he tenses in preparation.

But miraculously, the plan works!

The pair of stink bugs crawl swiftly to the end of the corridor, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip into the now unguarded room. Upon entering, he sees what appears to be a normal bedroom, decorated nicely with windows that overlook the water and furniture that would make for comfortable living. But oddly, the room is unoccupied. Surely this would be where Hix would keep the fairy leader, unless this is his personal bedroom and he just has very feminine taste. But she’s nowhere to be found and disappointment curls around the pit of Jimin’s stomach. As a last effort, he calls out her name, wondering if she would be hiding somewhere.

“Nissa?” A few seconds go by and nothing happens, but just as he turns to leave, motion in the corner of the room startles him. Seeming to peel right from the wall itself is a figure, invisible at first glance, but slowly morphing into a distinguished body right before his eyes. Nissa changes color as she walks up to him, eying him suspiciously with every tentative step.

“Who are you?” Her voice is high but strong, her stance so intimidating that Jimin feels as though she were here to rescue him and not the other way around. She is most definitely a warrior.

“Uhm,” He clears his throat when his voice threatens to crack. “Alva and Laila sent me and my girlfriend here to help you escape. I-if you want to.”

She lets out a hearty laugh at that, her defensive posture slacking into something more relaxed and casual, and subconsciously Jimin’s body does the same. “I’ve been planning an escape for days, I can’t wait to get out of this place.” He wants to say something else, but instead he just stands awkwardly for a few seconds. Clearly, he isn’t as good with people as you are. “So, you’re human?”

“Yes.” He tilts his head at her and she grins.

“Laila must have done a pretty good job with the spell if you’re still in one piece.” His eyes widen as she walks past him, looking through the opening of the doorway.

“Why haven’t you escaped yet? The door’s wide open.” Actually there’s no door, but those are technicalities. He watches with interest as she presses her hand to the thin air, pulling it back sharply as though she had been shocked. But he’d just entered through there, there’s no way it could be sealed off.

“Hix sealed this room with magic. Don’t worry, though, it only works on fairies so you shouldn’t be affected by the barrier. My plan was to make the room look empty so he’d think I had already escaped, then to leave once he broke the barrier; but since you’re here I can use a different strategy.” Nissa turns to Jimin abruptly, her smooth features glowing brighter with an idea. “I need materials. Can you get them for me?”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Jimin gives her the bag of Fairy Dust that he had nearly forgotten about, and the relief on her face is clear once it’s in her possession. She thanks him, thinking quickly before nodding her head.

“Okay. I need a leaf and some wood. There should be a stash of leaves somewhere on the other side of this fortress and twigs scattered outside.” Just as Jimin goes to step out of the door, the guards return, stopping in front of the doorway without even glancing inside. He ducks behind the wall just to be sure, he and Nissa sharing a brief wide-eyed look. She grabs his wrist and wordlessly pulls him to the far side of the room, opening the bag of Fairy Dust he had just given her and pulling out a fist full. Jimin watches with fascination as she manipulates it between her hands, the consistency changing right before his eyes as she displays her mastery with the medium. Soon, it’s worked into a thin film and before he can react, she holds up her palms to him and blows into it like a bubble, the film stretching over his body from head to toe until he’s completely covered. Nissa pinches off the bubble, but it doesn’t pop. Instead, it tightens around him like a second skin, leaving him glistening and shiny with the odd texture of the material. “There.” She says proudly, grinning when he gives a ticklish shiver.

“What is this?” From what he can tell, nothing has changed except for the fact that he looks like he's wrapped in plastic.

“I just made you invisible. Now, you can leave without being noticed,” She explains, turning and pushing him toward the door. “They won’t be able to see what you’re holding when you’re like this, but they can still hear you, so be as quiet as possible. Now go, time is of the essence!”

Ever so carefully, Jimin steps out of the room and around the bugs. He presses himself to the wall, hoping that he doesn’t accidentally touch one of them or make a noise— he’s known to be pretty clumsy, so he needs to be extra careful. The hallways are fairly clear, he has an easy time making it to the other side of the fortress and gathering a leaf from what looks to be a break room of sorts. Next is the wood, and his plan is to slip outside, but just as he is passing by the large room that you’re in, he hears something curious.

“Ow!” You hiss, a scowl etched into your features as Hix prods you with a wooden staff. You appear to be frozen in place, your body unnaturally rigid, and telling by the shimmering quality of your clothes and skin, Hix probably cast some sort of spell on you.

“This is very interesting,” He hums, jabbing you in the back near your shoulder blades. “You look like you should have wings. They should be right here.” He drags the staff along your back, obviously perplexed. “Is this a genetic defect of some sort? You say you’re human?”

“Are you finished?” You ask impatiently, ignoring his questioning.

“I don’t entirely trust you yet. I need to make sure you aren’t just a fairy that’s trying to trick me to help Nissa escape. Even if you are who you say you are, there’s no guarantee that I’ll let her go. Surely I’ll gain some status if I have 2 wives. One who’s powerful and one that’s exotic.” He continues to circle you. Jimin fumes at that, ready to do something, but then you speak again.

“What’s your goal here?” You seem calm, and something tells him to wait.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you doing this? Why did you suddenly decide to kidnap Nissa and invade this area?” Hix debates whether or not he should tell you this or not, but in the end, opens up. There’s just something about you that makes people do that.

“The fairies treated me so poorly here. I was an outcast and everyone always excluded me, barely even considering me a fairy just because I had a knack for destroying things. Do you know how it feels to be rejected by your own people? Well I’ll tell you: it sucks. Most bugs didn’t even want to socialize with me, having heard rumors from the fairies about me and not even giving me a chance. I was sad and lonely and spiteful, so I decided that I’ll become powerful and gain control over this side of the water and force everyone to pay attention to me!”

“Is that what you want? Attention?”

“Yes. I want everyone to acknowledge me and see that I’m not worthless. If I control the waterway, I control everything. And if I have the fairy leader at my side as my wife, there’s no way anyone can ignore me anymore. I won’t have to be lonely or outcast, pushed to the corner where I’m out of sight and out of mind. My friends on the other side of the stream helped me realize that if I want to be happy, I need to be at the top.” He says this thoughtfully, placing his poking stick to the side and coming to stand in front of you.

“But this won’t make you happy. Sure, you’ll be married and may be able to control this area, but really, all you’ll have is a wife that doesn’t love you and a land full of people that hate you. They all know you kidnapped Nissa so she isn’t really on your side, and that your minions are destroying this place. The type of attention you’re getting from this isn’t the kind you want, trust me. It’s only confirming their thoughts about you.” He narrows his eyes at you, clearly disliking your reasoning.

“Then what do you suggest I do?” As the two of you stand face to face, Jimin decides to take this chance to creep over and steal Hix’s wooden stick. That way he won’t be able to poke you anymore and will inadvertently be aiding in his captive’s escape. Jimin hadn’t planned on staying to listen to your conversation, but what you say next makes him pause.

“What you need is to find real love and passion. I have someone that I love with my whole heart and I’ve been so happy since I met him. He’s a person that makes me feel brave, that would protect me at all costs, that takes me on adventures outside of my comfort zone, and I’ve grown so much just from being around him. On top of that, he helped me find my passion for exploration and travel, and we’ve had so many new experiences together that I wouldn’t have even dreamed of with anyone else. That’s what you need. You need someone— a lover or a friend— that challenges you and makes you happy. All of this stuff is great, but it doesn’t mean anything to you. In fact, all it does is hurt the people involved, including yourself. You’re not a bad person, you just need to branch out and find yourself. Let all of this go and find what really brings you joy.”

Was what you said true? Did you really feel that way about him? Jimin feels like his heart is about to burst at your confession. Although it wasn’t meant for him to hear, that makes it that much more sincere. He told you he loved you a little while ago and you didn’t even react, but hearing you say this eases every worry he had. Now motivated more than ever to finish this ordeal and get back to normal life with you, he snatches up the stick and hurries back to Nissa as Hix thinks over your words, his resolve looking shaken.

“You’re back!” She says as he enters, looking at him as though she can see him. She removes the spell on him, the film around him disappearing with the flick of her hand. Swiftly, she takes the leaf and staff from Jimin, moving to a table to drop the contents onto a prepared pile of dust. “Hix’s staff? Nice choice.” She giggles inspecting the wood with satisfaction before coating the items in the powder. After less than a minute she produces her finished product, the new staff glowing brightly. “Hold this.”

She thrusts it into his hands, and to his surprise, it’s quite heavy compared to the almost weightless stick he brought to her. Nissa walks over to the barrier, hands covered in dust, and places them in the center. Her palms move over the barrier independently, as if searching for something, and after a few seconds, she returns to him to take the staff back with now clean hands. He watches in awe as spots of gold seemingly float in midair as if attached to glass and the fairy walks over wielding her tool, not hesitating for a second before thrusting the blunt edge into the gold spots. Sparkles radiate out along the doorway with every strike, her technique looking like a fencing player expertly brandishing her rapier, and as soon as the last spot is pierced, the barrier flashes once and dissipates into a plume of dust. The dust lands on the stink bugs underneath, both of them falling to the floor, and the woman simply steps over their sleeping bodies without batting an eyelash.

“Come on, let’s go!” She waves him over, snapping Jimin out of his stupor as he follows her into the hall. They make their way back to you cautiously, avoiding all enemies as they navigate through the fortress.

Meanwhile, you sit with Hix on one of the benches in the center of the large room, your backs facing the entrance. You didn’t mean for this to turn into a therapy session, but somehow you ended up listening to all of his problems and sympathizing with the struggles he’s faced leading up to this, trying to help resolve this conflict peacefully.

“If you have friends on the other side of the stream, why don’t you just move there and live with them?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed in pity. “You would have a better life where they already accept you, instead of trying to force others to see your worth here.”

After giving this some thought, Hix stares out of the window in front of you. The water passes lazily outside, the other side looking several times farther away than when you were normal sized. “Maybe you’re right... but I put so much time and effort into this plan, I can’t give it up so easily.”

“You can! I know it seems like a waste of time, but the damage hasn’t been done yet. Things aren’t set in stone, you can still change your path and redirect yourself in a better direction. You haven’t married Nissa yet and your stink bugs haven’t destroyed this area, but if you continue like this, you may end up doing something irreversible and regretting it. Walk away now and start over. People don’t get many chances to do that in life.”

“But-“ He shakes his head. “They’re never going to forgive me for what I’ve done. I kidnapped their leader and threatened our home!” His head drops to his hands, and you put a hand on his back.

“They might not ever be able to forgive you, and that’s okay. But what’s important is that you never forget and use this experience to better yourself as a fairy. Look back on who you are now and tell yourself that you’ll never make the same mistakes again. I believe in you, Hix. I know you aren’t bad, you’ve just had a hard life— and I know I can’t do anything to make up for that, but I truly wish you the best in the future.” Your smile brings him to lift his eyes to look at you.

He sighs, looking at your sparkling eyes. You seem passionate about this and he can’t understand why you care so much about this. About him. You aren’t even a fairy from here, yet you’ve shown him more compassion than anyone in his entire life. And for the first time, his heart thumps wildly in his chest with warmth.

Nissa and Jimin arrive at the doorway, both peeking their heads in to see what was happening. They see you talking with Hix, your backs facing them, but the fairy looks to be in some sort of turmoil next to you, his head in his hands, looking mildly distressed. Jimin moves to interrupt, but Nissa holds her hand out in front of him, whispering to keep watching before taking action.

“I’ve had a change of heart because of you. I think it would be best if I did move to the other side of the water, away from the creatures I hurt and oppressed here. You’ve opened my eyes, (Y/n). You truly are a beautiful soul inside and out.”

He looks up at you again before suddenly lunging at you and pulling you into a hug, but from another perspective it looks as though he’s grabbing you and pulling you to him against your will. Nissa and Jimin gasp as they see your eyes wet with tears, and as soon as one slips down your cheek, they jump into action.

“I’m sorry you were treated so badly here. I wish I was born a fairy so that I could be your friend and change how things were for you.” You mumble sadly into the embrace, to which he chuckles.

“Thank you for your empathy, but you do not mean that. You have another life to live. Go be happy with your lover and tell him that you love him everyda-“

THUNK!

Nissa storms over from her hiding place and swings her club down, landing squarely on the back of Hix’s head. A short scream falls from your lips when he goes limp, the noise echoing in the room as he falls out of your arms and off of the bench onto his face, laying flat on the floor. Jimin pulls you up and into his arms, replacing the space where your new friend had been without a second thought. Cradling you into his chest, he misses the horrified look you have on your face.

“Did he hurt you? Are you okay? Did he touch you or make you do anything against your will?” His eyes are worried and you almost don’t have it in your heart to be angry. Almost.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You shout, looking down at his body. “Oh my god, did you kill him?” Jimin holds you as you try to go over to Hix, but you rip out of his grasp to kneel down to your new friend.

“Of course I didn’t kill him, he still needs to face the consequences of his crimes. I just knocked him unconscious.” The fairy beside Jimin says nonchalantly, looking incredibly satisfied with the sight of him lying unconscious.

“Why? He just agreed to let us go and move to the other side of the water! We resolved this peacefully!” Your eyes are flames as you look at them, and Nissa’s mouth falls open.

“Wait, he what?!” Even Jimin looks surprised. Yes, you are the most charming and persuasive person he’s ever met, but did you really sweet talk a villain in such a short amount of time?

Before you can say anything, several stink bugs enter the room, the commotion causing them to check on their leader. Their tiny eyes land on you leaning over his limp body, Nissa with a club and Jimin standing suspiciously near the scene of the crime. You try to explain— as if they would even understand you— but the wings on their backs open up and they begin to charge toward you aggressively.

There’s little time to react as Jimin grabs hold of your wrist and pulls you up, dragging you along as he follows the fleeing fairy that dashes toward the exit. You have no choice but to run with them, looking behind you only to be met with the large armored bodies of your pursuers. They close in from the left, right, and from behind as you head toward the door, close to cutting off your exit. You and Jimin sprint past Nissa when she suddenly twists around to face them, and with one swing of her club, the bugs are pushed backwards, allowing the three of you to make your escape.

Fresh air slaps you in the face once you make it outside, the humidity and guilt feeling suffocating in your lungs. In your heart you know this isn’t right. You connected with Hix, you made so much progress with him, but in the end violence was still used to get your way despite that. Yes, you and Nissa escaped, but someone else was hurt in the process. If Hix decided to go back to his original plan, you wouldn’t blame him, but you still feel horrible about how things turned out. You suppose your gut feeling was wrong after all.

“Babe, we have to keep running or they’ll catch us!” Jimin breathes exasperatedly, your feet slowing down beneath you without you noticing. A swarm of guards are now flying in from all sides, there’s no way you’ll be able to get around them. But that doesn’t mean Nissa won’t try, the fairy flying up to smack down the insects in an attempt to clear a path. But she’s just one woman and it won’t be enough, and you can’t force yourself to keep going. Just then, Alva and Laila appear, joining their warrior leader in the battle, knocking down the bugs to help you advance forward, but by now, you’ve stopped running. “(Y/n)!” Jimin pleads, tugging on your arm, but you ignore him.

Looking around, all you can see is a mess of flailing bodies and Fairy Dust, warriors attacking each other for an irrelevant cause. The sounds of buzzing and grunts fills your ears at an unsettling volume. It’s pure chaos. You hoped to avoid this— a war where others get hurt instead of solving things diplomatically and sensibly. As the appointed “diplomat”, you supposed you failed if things had to come to this.

“Alva, Laila, Nissa! Please stop!” You shout at them when one falls to the ground roughly. “You don’t need to fight, Hix has changed! He was about to let us go, there’s no need to fight unnecessarily!” They barely spare you a glance, the three of them trying to push through the blockade.

“Then why are they attacking you?” Alva points out, ducking as one bug tries to tackle her.

“You really believe he’s changed?” The leader asks, strained.

“Yes, he has. I could tell just by looking at him, he was telling the truth.” Nissa looks unconvinced, scoffing at your response.

“Then you don’t know him like I do.” She clearly doesn’t trust what you say, so you turn to your boyfriend, hoping he’ll be more understanding. Jimin looks at you and into your eyes, reading your emotions as if they were written in ink. He knows from experience that you’re a great judge of character and that you’re seldom wrong about things like this, but at the same time, you’re talking about the person who has tormented this side of the stream so much that the fairies here needed to recruit the two of you for help. It’s hard to believe that you’d be able to change him so easily. Only a few seconds pass but he feels like he’s standing there for minutes debating on if he should take your side or not. But he trusts you— you need him to trust you— so he does.

“I believe you.” He says quietly, letting go of your arm, much to your relief. You’ve always been a pacifist, so he knows you’ll take this personally if anything bad happens to any of your comrades. He calls up to the others. “If she says he’s changed, then he has! Please, stop fighting.”

“How can you be so sure?” Laila questions, looking down at the two of you briefly.

“I know my girlfriend. (Y/n) wouldn’t lie about something like this.” As he speaks, nobody notices the male exiting the fortress with a throbbing head, looking out at all of the action in front of him. “Laila, Alva, you brought us here to help save your land, and it was (Y/n) who convinced me to help you do it. The least you could do is believe her and listen to what she has to say. She cares so deeply about this place after only being here for a short time, she would never do anything to hurt you. Just please stop attacking and listen. You don’t have to believe her right now but at least stop fighting.” Jimin isn’t nearly as eloquent with his words as you are, but you can’t help but smile at his short speech. It may not mean anything that he’s taking your side, but you appreciate the support nonetheless. And to your surprise, everyone does stop fighting soon after.

The stink bugs land in an orderly pattern, standing solidly like before as Hix approaches dizzily from behind. Your three friends land as well, glaring at the man who now holds his head with a sorrowful look on his face. Without seeing him, you step forward, prepared to explain all that you have learned. You tell them of how you listened to Hix (the first time anyone has ever done that) and found that he was just a misunderstood and lonely villain of their own creation. You spoke of how he simply wanted to be acknowledged, and how all of the creatures around did everything in their power to make sure he never received that acknowledgement by spreading untrue rumors about his character. Hix isn’t evil, you explained, he’s just desperate to be one of them, and if it took him going to such extreme measures for them to finally notice him and his struggles, then the problem lies with them and not him.

“So he won your pity? Good for him. But that still doesn’t excuse what he’s done.” Alva crosses her arms, followed by Nissa, Laila staying silent.

“Yes, I know.” He finally speaks up from behind you, looking dejected and apologetic when you snap your head around to look at him. Upon seeing him, Jimin steps in front of you out of instinct, not liking how physically close the two of you were before the escape. You trust Hix, but it is still his duty to make sure that you are safe. Your hand rests on his side, but you don’t push him out of the way, simply peeking out from behind his back to watch as the fairy speaks. “I know that what I have done is unforgivable, but this human has given me a lot of insight. Enough to change my heart.”

They scoff at him, but refrain from speaking at your sharp glare. Hix approaches you, but Jimin stands firm, holding his arms out to block him— something that surprises the mud colored fairy before you.

“It’s okay, Jimin.” You say, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder in reassurance. Hix looks on in awe as you stare into each other’s eyes, communicating in an unspoken language that makes your boyfriend slowly comply and allow you to step into the open. But he still makes sure you’re right at his side. He won’t let you out of his sight again.

“I see. So this “assistant” is your lover?” Hix grins in realization, donning sparkles in his eyes. You nod. “I’ve never... known love or kindness. But seeing you like this, and having experienced the kindness you showed to me— a complete stranger— makes me want to find it on my own. Away from here.” His fingers are soft when they touch your arm, color painting his cheeks. Nissa gapes at this, not having seen the man be so tender before. She’s only seen his bitterness or the mocking, teasing persona he used when addressing Laila, whom he’s long had a crush on. He turns to them, addressing the three that stare in shock. “No amount of apologies will undo the trouble I’ve caused, but I’m willing to take whatever punishment you all decide for me. I want you to know that I plan on moving to the other side of the water, where I was more welcome there than I ever was here, and I will never bother you again. Nissa, I’m sorry I kidnapped you.” He looks down sheepishly. “It was very childish of me to think that it would solve anything, and instead it just caused more conflict and fighting. You are completely justified in knocking me out. Let this lump on the back of my head be a reminder of my wrongdoings and keep me on the right path.”

You stifle a laugh at that, biting your lip to hide your smile.

Then, Hix turns to you once more, looking between you and Jimin’s faces. “You are very wise,” You blush at this, feeling the earnestness in his compliment. “You said earlier that this person is someone you love, correct?” He asks, pointing to Jimin, to which you nod shyly. “Well, he is very lucky to have someone like you: someone so sincere and caring. Never change.” His eyes find Jimin’s. “I don’t know much about love, but she thinks of you very fondly. Please treat her with all the delicacy in the world and never let her go.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, blushing furiously at your confession coming from the wrong mouth. You try not to look mortified when he looks down at you, your cheeks shaded prettily as well and lifted into a soft smile. He doesn’t plan on letting you go any time soon, and this whole experience has made him want to hold on to you tighter than before.

“What should we do with him?” Nissa whispers to her companions, eyeing the remorseful male that comes to stand in front of her.

“You are our leader, I think you should decide.” Alva replies. An odd look crosses Nissa’s face then, one that almost mirrors her enemy’s as they look back at each other.

“I’m your leader...” She mutters thoughtfully before standing straight. “I’m no leader. I caused everything that’s happened, everything that Hix has done. The rumors that ruined his reputation: I started them. I... I didn’t realize that my words could have so much power— that as the leader of the meadow that I had the strength to destroy someone just by giving my misguided opinion of them. No, I never liked you Hix,” He rolls his eyes at that. “But I never meant to cause you such pain. You deserve to live a normal life, so as leader I will allow you to leave without punishment.” Shocked, he bows his head in thanks.

“How noble and humble of you to admit your faults.” Laila comments quietly, her cheery attitude returning.

“Furthermore,” Nissa continues. “I’m stepping down.”

“What?! You can’t do that!” Alva protests loudly, eyebrows shooting up as she leaves the ground just slightly in her surprise. Laila also seems shocked, but she grabs her lover’s arm and tells her to calm down and let her explain.

“A real leader doesn’t slander others mindlessly. They are diplomatic and generous with a perfect balance of modesty and fierceness. I believe Laila fits that description perfectly.” Everyone turns to her then, your eyes lighting up when they meet hers for the first time this entire night. “Laila, I name you the new leader of the meadow. We can officially title you in front of everyone in the morning.”

You all clap, Alva jumping on her in a tight hug, the taller fairy spinning her girlfriend around before setting her feet back to the ground. Jimin smiles at the adorable display, his arm thoughtlessly wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his side. Your eyes are glued to him as he watches the happy couple. You’re happy he’s here with you through all of this. It’ll all feel like a crazy dream in the morning, but at least he’ll be there to recount all of your experiences with you.

“Since you’re giving up your position, whatdoya say we both start over across the water?” Hix interjects, wiggling his eyebrows at Nissa. “We could build a new place, find ourselves-“

“NO.” She cuts him off sharply, her wings twitching similarly to Alva’s.

“Well, then... I guess it’s time for me to go.” He says, pout on his lips, but it disappears when he turns to face the stream. In his eyes, you can see him envisioning his new future, the possibilities of having a new life where he doesn’t have to feel lonely and rejected anymore. You wish him the best, you truly do. He walks up to the water’s edge, dipping himself in safely and re-emerging looking clean. His real complexion is actually a dark leafy green, and you assume he colored himself brown to fit in with the stink bugs. He calls the creatures and they come flying up to him, all of them floating over the water together and dispersing into the wildlife there.

“I guess my gut feeling was right after all.” You tell Jimin, giving him a toothy grin. “Everything turned out just fine.”

You ride Garnet back to the meadow, yawning and resting your cheek on Jimin’s back for the entirety of the trip. It’s mostly silent, the breeze whistling lullabies into your ears and combing through your hair sweetly as you fly over the terrain. The spies are gone, you notice, the highly policed skies looking empty and calm. Many creatures have already started migrating closer to the water and you presume that Hix’s fortress won’t be standing for much longer once the insects get ahold of it, tearing it down to get to the bank of the water and restore their supply. You feel proud of you and Jimin for accomplishing your outlandish mission, and you whisper as much to him in the quietness of the night.

With one stop to visit and say your goodbyes to the friendly mushroom fairy, Bayard, you’re off to Nissa’s home, which you find out is right next to Alva and Laila’s.

“Alright,” She says, guiding you and Jimin inside her abode. “Time to make that reversal spell. If I can remember it.” She mutters the last part, causing your eyebrows to scrunch, but she waves you off when you question it.

“Thank you for helping us.” Laila walks up to you, meeting your gaze for the second time. She doesn’t seem as intimidated by you anymore, which is a relief. But her cheeks still flame the longer you hold eye contact. “We couldn’t have done this without you. Both of you.” Then she turns to Jimin. “Remember what we talked about. Never be embarrassed.”

You look between the two of them as he nods, neither saying anything more than that, but you’ll let them keep their secrets. She hugs both of you and then it’s Alva’s turn to say her last few words to you.

“Thank you both. I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to pull it off, but things turned out better than I could have hoped. Really, you two are lovely, come visit us again sometime if you can. Then you’ll get to see how beautiful the meadow is in times of peace.” She pulls you both into an awkward side hug that makes you giggle, her own cheeks pink and wings flicking when you tease her about it.

“Mm, I think this is it!” Nissa chimes, scooping the now blue Fairy Dust into a bag. “Are you two ready?” At your okay, they fly you back to your purple blanket, placing you in the center where you find other bugs inspecting the odd surface. “I guess I should say thanks as well. You didn’t have to save me, but I really appreciate that you did.” She bows her head at you, taking both you and Jimin’s hands in hers to show her gratitude.

A ticklish feeling overtakes your whole body when she sprinkles the blue dust onto you, but this time you don’t faint. You watch as the waving fairies become smaller and smaller, their figures disappearing until they are nearly microscopic to you. The blades of grass around the perimeter of your blanket shrink too, as well as the trees and fireflies surrounding you, all returning to normal proportions that take a minute for your mind to process.

“We’re finally normal again.” Jimin sighs, looking at his body and the area around you. It does feel better to know that your chances of being smashed by something are significantly lower now.

“Was that... real?” It feels fake, like a pipe dream, and when you check your phone you find that only an hour has passed since you first got there. “That can’t be right.” You blink a few times, both you and him staring at the time in confusion.

“Time must move slower when you’re that tiny.” He reasons, running a hand through his hair. You take the time to reorient yourself, gazing back up at the stars above you. They twinkle invitingly, their light feeling so much brighter after experiencing the darkness of the forest floor. You look over at Jimin to find that he’s already staring at you, looking as though he’s nervous about something.

“What?” You ask, eyes wide at the expression on his face. He takes a deep breath, your heart beating a thousand times faster.

“I...” Taking his lip between his teeth, he pauses to choose his words. “(Y/n), I love you.” Your heart flutters, and this time you let it. “I meant it when I said it earlier, I really do love you. I wanted tonight to be special so I brought you out here to a place that was special to me as a kid, and I wanted to confess to you here, but I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way. But I’m not afraid to say it anymore.” His hand finds yours, fitting perfectly like it was made to be there. “This whole experience made me realize how much I need you, and how terrified I am of losing you. I was so terrified that something bad would happen to you the entire time that I have a headache right now from all the stress!” You laugh, placing your free hand on the side of his face, fingertips grazing his temple. “But even though I was scared, you taught me how to be brave and step out of my comfort zone. I wanted to protect you, but somehow you ended up protecting yourself and saving the entire meadow with your amazing instincts (which is incredibly sexy, by the way), but now I feel like a useless sidekick. So, I guess the only thing I can offer a girl that has everything, is my heart. I don’t mind being your sidekick as long as I know you love me too.”

Jimin tends to ramble when he’s nervous, word vomiting everything that’s on his mind, but it’s one of his charms that you find absolutely adorable. You can’t help but smile at his confession, the dampness of his palms melting you. “Of course I feel the same way, Jimin. Hix kinda confessed for me, but I still want to say it myself. Park Jimin, I love everything about you. You might feel like you’re my sidekick tonight, but we’ve been on so many adventures before this where you were the one who led me out of my comfort zone and taught me how to find my own courage. Do you remember our first date?” He giggles at the memory with you, looking away with fondness. “It was around Halloween and you convinced me to go to one of those haunted trails with you after I said I’d never been to one. And you pulled me along every step of the way and held me close so I wouldn’t get lost or hurt myself because I had my eyes closed the entire time.” You let out an embarrassed chuckle. You really have changed a lot since meeting him. “I think that was the day that I realized I was in love with you. Or at least that I would fall in love with you. I’ve never felt so safe and comforted in anyone’s arms before, but when you held me, it felt like home. Every time we went on an adventure, you were always the one to reassure me and make sure I was okay; that’s the reason why I slowly began to open up to the world and realize my passion for exploration. I don’t think you realize just how much of who I am today is because of you, Jimin.”

“You don’t mean that..” He says, though his love for praise starts showing in the pleased look he has in his eyes. You decide to indulge in it.

“I do! I’m only able to be brave because I know that you’re there to protect me. You saved my life twice tonight! And thank you for having my back and helping me stop the fighting. I couldn’t have saved the day without you.” His hand wraps around the wrist of your hand that still rests on his face, both of you looking into each other’s eyes lovingly.

“Of course, babe, we’re a team. Let’s always stay together.” He leans in to softly press his lips to yours, and you stay in that gentle kiss under the stars for an indeterminate amount of time, lost in each other’s embrace. When you pull away, you see shapes being drawn into the air, Fairy Dust in the shape of hearts traced above your heads, and you smile at the antics of your friends, wondering if they were listening the whole time. It’s a beautiful display that warms your heart. “I think it’s time to head back to camp.” Jimin says softly when you yawn, standing before extending a hand to you and pulling you up against his chest.

As you bend down to pick up your belongings, you feel something hard in your pocket and reach inside to pull it out. An unnaturally shimmery whistle rests between your fingers, now grown to a proportionate size as it must have been caught in the spell as well. You meet eyes with Jimin as he folds up the blanket, raising his eyebrows at you to blow it, and when you do fireflies come swirling up from the grass, synchronized and brilliant as they put on a spectacle for you. You can’t help the giggle that bubbles from your throat as you watch them perform, spelling their thanks to you and your boyfriend before one comes to land in the center of your hand.

“Thank you, Garnet. We’ll come back to visit someday.” She flutters her wings and flashes her colors at you before taking off again into the night, her light blending in against the starry sky as Jimin takes your hand to begin the trek back to your campgrounds.

[heycallmeladytypewriter]

The Call of a Siren- Chapter Four

Chapter One / Two / Three

A/N: Here is the promised longer chapter! You'll notice I changed some minor things, something I will occasionally do as most writers. Once again, if anyone is interested in beta reading please DM me! Enjoy!

I don't own My Hero Academia. I only own my own characters and the story I create within Horikoshi's masterpiece of a world I'd love to live in.

The next day was more of a normal school day. Well, almost.

Present Mic was going on and on about proper grammar of the sentences he would write and adjust on the board for fifteen minutes before Delia zoned out. She didn’t get much sleep as yesterday’ s fitness tests scores bothered her still. She was second to last which only reminded her of her lack of experience using her quirk. Once again, she felt frustrated being raised in an ‘anti-quirk’ home. Everyone else except Midoriya and herself had years of training and time to figure out their abilities but at the very least Midoriya had All Might. She had no one.

“Oi brat! Stop doing that!” Angry boy hissed in her ear. She jolted in her seat before realizing she was rapidly clicking her pen - a habit of hers when deep in thought. Delia lifted her pen slightly so he could see it and clicked it a few more times aggressively before putting it down on her desk.

Then he kicked her chair leg a bit when Present Mic turned around to write more sentences on the board. Bastard.  Just another happy reminder that she sat in front of Bakugo which was already proving to be the pain in the ass she figured it would be when assigned. She curled her hands around the edge of the desk to prevent from turning in her seat to kick him in the shins.

She was practically bouncing to get out of her seat for hero training just to get a break from sitting in the same room for the past few hours. That was one thing she probably wouldn't come to love- staying in the same classroom for multiple classes rather than back home she would change classrooms with each subject - something she liked due to stretching her legs, changing seats, different people, and getting away from the asshole who kicks her chair when she annoys him.

“ I AM HERE!” All Might rushed in with his booming voice, “COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A HERO!”

Everyone immediately sat up in their seats in excitement that the number one hero was...well coming through the door like a hero! The class practically jumped out of their seats they were so excited.

“I can't believe it's really All Might.”

“So he really is a teacher! This year is gonna be totally awesome!”

All Might marched right over to the podium as the class took in his choice to wear his Silver Age costume which was pretty cool. He announced that he will be teaching ‘Hero-ing 101’ and that today he was starting off with battle training.

“Fight training!” Bakugo growled out excitedly while Midoriya countered with a nervous “Real combat?”

“But one of the keys of being a hero is looking good!” He swept his giant arm towards the wall expanding with numbered briefcases. “These were designed for you specifically based on your Quirk registration forms and the requests you sent in before school started. So everyone grab your assigned cases by your number and get to the locker rooms! Meet me at Training Ground Beta!”

The girls around her were chatting away while opening their cases but Delia sat with it in her lap for a few moments.

“Wow, you guys look great.” Delia said to the girls. Momo Yaoyorozu was dressed in a simple red leotard with a chunky yellow utility belt and short red boots. Mina Ashido gave her a twirl in her new costume of a cute camo-like body suit of teal and purple with a short cropped fuzzy jacket. It was random out of context but given what little she had seen of the bubbly girl - it weirdly worked. Kyoka Jiro rocked ripped jeans, a long coral shirt, black jacket with a popped collar, and what looked like giant chunky boots with a speaker in them. Tsuyu Asui was a ‘frog’ personified in a black and green suit with webbed feet and giant goggles on her head. Lastly, Ochaco Uraraka looked like an adorable astronaut in her pink and black suit with her cute oversized boots and wrist accents. Yaoyorozu smiled at her compliment, “Thank you. Why aren’t you getting dressed?”

“Are you nervous, Bell?” Asui asked her, looking concerned.

Delia pulled on her neck, “A bit, yeah. But I’ll be fine.” Ashido let out a small squeal and nudged her, “Well then put on your costume! We wanna see you looking great with us!”  

Delia bit her lip before clicking open the clasps to reveal her new costume she spent months trying to create. Blowing air out her cheeks, she stood up and placed it on the bench to start dressing. “Here goes nothing.”

“They say that clothes make the pros young ladies and gentlemen, and behold, you are the proof!” All Might stood a few feet ahead of them as they entered Training Ground Beta. “Take this to heart. From now on you are all...heroes in training!”

Everyone was checking out one another's costumes as they walked. The guys looked great except Mineta’s looked like he was in a diaper so that was an odd choice. When she saw Midoriya run out she almost facepalmed. Way to be obvious dude. The simplistic green and red design was fine but the hood part of it resembled too much of his all time favorite person. Her eyes kept scanning until it landed on the person practically foaming at the mouth to start.

If she had to be honest with herself, she would say he had one of the best costumes but she wouldn’t tell him that. He wore a tight tank top with a large orange ‘X’ in front, a belt with what looked like grenades on the side, some hardcore knee pads, then down to some heavy duty boots. The giant grenade gauntlets hooked on each arm looked heavy so she hoped he could take them off in a tight spot. She let out a small snort... Of course the boy with anger management problems would resemble a human grenade.

Biting her lip, she looked down at herself wondering if her costume matched her the same way. She pulled her hair up in a high ponytail mostly for practical purposes. She wore a high collar but sleeveless open shirt that was hooked to her by a small silver belt under her chest. She was wearing a silver strapless swim top underneath as well as black small swim shorts that could be seen as well because her thick skirt was cut into three large panels- two on each hip covering her sides and partly her backside and then one straight down the middle with a medium silver utility belt fastening it to her person. One of her favorite pieces was her, as she liked to call them, her ‘ass kicking boots’ that went to midthigh and had thick non-slip soles and a slight wedge heel. Plus, they were pretty with their silver intricate designs.  She also had silver gauntlets on her arms. The coolest feature was her water storage system. In the event, she was without any water near her to use her quirk she had compartments built into her suit. Every silver accent and design on her clothes like her boots, shorts, belts, and gauntlets were made of some ridiculously strong but flexible material that was hollowed and filled with water that she could pull from or store for emergencies. It wasn’t a massive amount but was enough for a quick emergency whip or two. Plus, everything was in a shade of dark azure blue. She felt like a water warrior.

Momo Yaoyorozu came over to her and knocked her with her hip, smiling. “Told you. You look great and it seems some others are taking notice.” She subtly nodded off the side where Angry Boy was standing diligently. Delia frowned because she had no idea what she was talking about but before she could open her mouth to say that she heard weird breathing down behind them.

“God, I love this school.” They turned to see Mineta standing way too close and way too happy.

“Okay, that’s just wonderful. Go love the school from over there, please.” Delia pointed to the group of others gathered a couple feet away. Yaoyorozu even went as far to actually ‘shoo’ him with hand gestures like he was a bug. That had Delia cracking up which prompted Momo to start giggling with her as he trudged over to the other group when All Might cleared his throat to signify class was starting. The class promptly lined up to face the number one hero.

“Now that you're ready, it's time for combat training!”

______________________________________________________

As they got settled in the monitoring room, she introduced herself to her partner for the exercise today. She spotted him a few feet from her in a martial arts costume and noted that he was the kid with the really big tail. Delia walked right up to him and stuck her hand out, “Hi, I’m Delia Bell. Looks like you’re stuck with me today for the ‘mission.’” She used air quotes for that last word jokingly.

“Oh hey! I’m Mashirao Ojiro. Happy to be stuck with you.” He joked back. “So I think we should watch this first run and get some idea of our strategy, sound good?”

“Agreed.” With that, they turned to the screen as the first mission started. Unfortunately, her excitement abated because she had a really bad feeling considering who was involved in this group as Midoriya and Uraraka walked through the building.

After a few turned corners, it started...then never really stopped. The class was on the edge of their seats after Midoriya laid Bakugo out flat on the floor and declared his hero name, “Deku.” Despite the escalating situation, Delia smiled proudly as Midoriya basically gave Bakugo the finger as he took back the name that was used to hurt him and stood his ground. Unfortunately, this only encouraged Bakugo to continue with full force. Midoriya then used his impatience to trick him again with the capture tape they were given before the match and ducked under another explosive punch before running down the corridor.

“The little guy’s really good!” The boy in a yellow bodysuit standing beside Jiro commented.

“He’s holding his own and he hasn’t even used his quirk yet!” The boy dressed in what looked like a tape dispenser helmet (?) said impressed.

We watched as Midoriya ran from Bakugo until he was completely lost to him. Bakugo began to yell furiously, “DAMMIT! You were tricking me for years by acting weak! Bet you’ve been laughing behind my back, huh?” If this idiot only knew…

“Come out and face me you coward!” Bakugo was blowing up doors left and right but walking with such arrogance, Delia was surprised his giant sized ego could fit through the door.

Meanwhile, Uraraka finally reached Iida who again proved his intelligence by hiding everything in the room that she could possibly float and use against him. She snickered when she heard Iida’s ‘evil voice’ while calling Uraraka a ‘do-gooder,’ What a dork.

“That isn’t a bad idea really.”

“What is? Hiding everything?”

“Yeah. Something to take a mental note of and I also think maybe we should try sticking together and allowing the ‘do-gooders,’ ”Delia again snickered at his impression of villain Iida, “to come to us on our home turf.”

She nodded, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

They both turned back to the screens to see Midoriya had found Bakugo who was now smiling which probably was a bad sign. “ Since you’re such a stalker, by now you probably know how my Quirk, Explosion, works. I secrete a nitroglycerin-like sweat from my hands and make it blow up. Imagine what I could do if I had a lot of it. “ He stood back into a lunge with his arm extended to the boy across from him. Oh, no . “That's right, these gauntlets aren't just for show. I’ve been storing my sweat for one monster blast.” Okay, One: Ew. Two: Mega Oh, no.

“Young Bakugo! Don’t do it! You’ll kill him!” All Might yelled into his microphone that she assumed was connected to their ear pieces.

“ He’ll be fine as long as he dodges !” Bakugo yelled right back and pulled the pin.

Delia’s hand went out to Ojiro's arm next to her as if to brace herself from what she just witnessed. He didn’t push her off as he too stared in horror at the screen.

“Whoa, whoa! This is fucking nuts!” Kirishima called out as the whole building they were in shook from the blast.

“Come in! Come in, Midoriya!” All Might was all but pressed against the screen as the dust cleared and we saw a giant hole where the walls and windows once were in the room. The class collectively sighed in relief when we heard a weak, “Is that even allowed?”

Then this goddamn psycho came out of the smoke and laughed. Laughed!

“Go ahead. Use your stupid Quirk on me, Deku.” He crouched low and smiled that disturbing smile again. He almost looked unhinged. “Even if you use everything you’ve got, you’ll never beat me.”

“Sir, isn’t this getting outta hand? That Bakugo is getting real crazy. He’s gonna kill ‘im!” Kirishima voiced Delia’s exact thoughts. The class all nodded in agreement and looked at their teacher expecting him to follow suit and shut this down.

“Not so.” Sorry, what? “Bakugo. Use that stored-up power again and I’ll stop this fight. You’re team will lose.”

“ Huh? ”

“To employ such a strong attack indoors is inviting the destruction of the stronghold you should be protecting. That’s a poor strategy, whether you’re a hero or a villain. The penalty would be a massive loss of points.”

That resulted in an angry yell before he rushed Midoriya who was talking to his partner. It seemed he had a plan though she couldn’t even see how at this point especially how her floating herself to the weapon earlier didn’t work against Iida’s speed. Midoriya threw a punch but Bakugo, in an amazing amount of speed and skill, flipped mid-air using a small blast and counter attacked from behind to hit Midoriya right in the back with a strong explosion.

“He doesn’t come off as a guy with strategy. But he’s actually quite intelligent.”

Ashido, Kirishima, and Delia took their eyes off the battle for a moment to look at the boy half covered in ice. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“He changed his trajectory while in midair and using a blast that doubled as a smokescreen. Very clever.”

Yaoyorozu chimed in with noting his ability to understand the physics of the situation and his Quirk. Denki Kaminari, whose name she remembered only due to that Mr. Aizawa had already used it so much in a day and a half because he was a high school five year old, moaned, “Ugh, Bakugo is uber talented. I hate it.” Delia pressed her lips together because while she agreed with her classmates on Angry Boy, she was still horrified by his behavior as he continued to beat the hell out of Midoriya. This oh, so intelligent and talented boy is basically throwing a tantrum and he had the nerve to call her ‘brat.’

“This is hard to watch! All he has to do is wrap tape around him, not kill him.” Ashido cried out.

“Bakugo is certainly acting like a villain.” Tokoyami responded.

“I thought Midoriya was pretty amazing at the start of the fight, but he’s completely outmatched in terms of combat power. Not to mention, Bakugo seems like a natural at all this stuff.”

“Give him a chance.” Delia said sharply. Kaminari looked at her surprised as her tone was with more bite than she intended. “Sorry. But give him a chance.”

Delia turned back to the screen once again and saw the boys facing off again but near a different set of windows. They exchanged words then lunged at one another but this time it was different. Midoriya was finally using his Quirk and Bakugo’s hands started sparking up as well.

Delia gripped her arms harder, “All Might…”

“They’re gonna kill each other! Sir!”

The Pro hero said nothing but gripped his tiny microphone hard enough it should've been in splinters before speaking into it, “Both of you-”

“Uraraka, now!” The class looked up at the video feed of the others and the brunette grabbed hold of a pillar. All of a sudden, Midoriya punch for Bakugo went upwards creating a giant amount of force to break the ceiling above as he took on Bakugo’s explosion head on. “SMASH!”

His punch created massive amounts of debris for Uraraka to use and she used the pillar she held onto as a bat and swung the floor pieces at Iida. As he was distracted in fending off the debris, she floated herself over to the weapon thus winning the mission.

The class was entirely silent as All Might declared the hero team the winners. Was this really a win?

After a few moments, she heard Ojiro say, “Okay...we aren’t going to do that.”

_________________________________________________

“Match two! Team B will be our heroes! Team I will be the villains!”

As Ojiro stretched, Delia pulled out some water from her belt to form a whip. “Hey, I’m going to hide behind one of the pillars near the door so I can surprise them.”

He nodded, “Good idea.”

The buzzer went off.

As they braced themselves for the heroes, it turns out Shoto Todoroki had different ideas. All of a sudden, the whole room was covered in freezing ice. Her boots were stuck in ice and as she peeked around the corner of the pillar so was Ojiro's. Damn. I didn’t think he had power like this!

“This Quirk is insane.”

She may be stuck but she still had her whip which she kept moving to prevent from freezing. They both stilled when they heard footsteps.

“Pry yourself up if you want, but it might be hard to fight me with no skin on the bottom of your feet.”

“Good thing I wore boots then!” Delia kicked herself free and lashed her whip around Todoroki’s right arm which wasn’t covered in ice. His eyes widened slightly before freezing her whip around his arm but she had another one at the ready that grabbed his arm again and tugged as if to throw him back but he had stuck himself to the floor with his left side. Before she could react, he covered her body from the chest down in ice preventing Delia from doing anything more.

“The hero team winnnnnns!” All Might announced over the loudspeaker.

“Fucking dammit!” She muttered as she tried to break free of the ice. But she didn’t need to as Todoroki suddenly emitted enough heat to defrost the whole building, Ojiro gasped, “Heat, too?”

Delia scrunched her face as everything was now wet which would’ve been great if the fight was still going. “It’s not your fault. We’re just playing on different levels.” Well, damn. Thanks so much. He said it so mildly and without emotion as if it was as simple of a fact that two plus two equals four. For some reason, she couldn’t find her anger at it because he was right. Delia felt deflated as he walked right back out the door he came in. Ojiro shrugged at her, “It’s the second day. We’ll get it next time.” She attempted a small smile at his effort to not seem upset on how quickly that ended. She gathered some of the water on the floor and refilled her tanks before walking out with her partner.

They settled back in the screening room as each battle went on. Delia took the time to see everyone’s Quirk and was impressed by how power heavy the class seemed. Acid, shadow, hardening, tape, energy beams, and it went on which was great to watch but definitely put even more attention on how short her and Ojiro’s battle went. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bakugo far from the group with his gaze on the floor and teeth gritted. He was not taking this well. Maybe I wasn’t far off in the unhinged part from earlier...  

Delia was half tempted to see if he was alright, which she obviously could tell he wasn’t, but pulled herself back as she did not like how he was in his battle in the slightest. The urge never went away as her classmates continued the missions and she kept one eye on the screen and the other on the boy looking on the verge of a crisis in the corner.

Finally, everyone had battled and class was dismissed with a quick congrats speech in from their teacher then an even quicker exit as he zoomed right out. Delia figured it was because he was losing his stamina at holding his form.

_____________________________________________________

Back in the classroom, Delia was putting her books in her bag when she heard the door open.

It was Midoriya who looked much better than when she saw him last. A bunch of the class ran to meet and introduce themselves to him which was a nice change of pace for him, she assumed. She doubted he was very popular in his last school considering how he and Bakugo came from the same school.

“Tokoyami! Stop using that desk as a chair!” Iida walked determinedly to the boy sitting on his desk while he talked to her former mission partner and Jiro. Jiro put her hand on her hip and said, “Dude, you need to chill.”

Ojiro pointed at him, “You’re carrying a lot of tension.”

Iida slumped forward in defeat as she walked over to the small group, “No one understands.” Delia swung herself on the desk next to Iida which caused them to laugh as she put her hand on his shoulder with comfort and some slight mocking, “It’s okay, Iida. Someday they’ll learn proper manners and respect.”

He sighed and nodded before turning to her, “Yes, well uh - Oh, c'mon!”

Delia giggled and swung her legs like a child, “I said they would. I didn’t say I would too.” She giggled again when the blue haired boy pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation before walking away.

“Hey, Bell.” She looked up from laughing at Jiro. “Yeah?”

“Is that a My Chemical Romance button on your bag?” Delia looked over to her desk with her various buttons and stickers on the side of her bag.

“Yes, it is. You a fan?”

“Major.”

“I listen to them occasionally as well.” Tokoyami threw in. Jiro grinned, “Nice to know some of us have some taste.” Ojiro scratched the back of his head, “Well, I guess I have none.”

“It’s alright. We’ll just have to educate you!” Jiro elbowed him gently. Delia looked at her watch then hopped off the desk, “Oops. I have to catch my train!”

When she ran outside, her eyebrows raised as she saw that Midoriya and All Might were staring off into the distance. Delia waved at them, “Feel better, Midoriya. Have a nice night, Sir!”

Running down the hill, she flew up to Bakugo and found her feet slowing a bit. They looked at each other for a moment and Delia opened her mouth to say something before she thought better of it and continued down the hill to catch her train home.

[tcstu]

March’s Honorable Mentions

For this month’s contest, I have one Honorable Mention and one disqualified entry. The Honorable Mention was created by @emilyelizabethfowl​. Emily has previously won my contest four times and is a truly talented writer. You can read their previous winning pieces here:

December 2020

August 2020

January 2019

June 2019

The second piece featured was disqualified based on length, but is still an awesome story that should be read. It was created by @daalseth​ who also won this contest in February 2021.

If you like one of these pieces, I hope you will reach out to the writer and let them know that you enjoyed their work.

As a reminder, this month’s piece is created by Liv @livinthefuture3000​ . This picture doesn’t have a title, but it is captioned by, “ Yo guys…I found this creepy mailbox while I was walking around the Level 5 neighborhoods 😦 There’s a keypad on the side…can someone help me figure out what it’s for…?” This piece is part of an incredible series the artist created, so if you would like to learn more, make sure to visit Liv’s page!

Untitled

By: @emilyelizabethfowl​

The mailbox had always been there, smack-dab in the middle of the small patch of grass and some bushes generously called the Park.

Every day, the postman would flick the flag up, and every single time, it would be back down before sunset.

There were quite a number of theories circulating around.

Some thought there was an invisible house next to it. Some argued there must’ve been a ghost house, demolished decades ago.

Others spoke of a faerie ring, or a werewolf post box, or even a direct line to Santa.

Kylie was going to figure that mystery out once and for all.

She was ready for anything: she had salt, and a cross, and the silver fountain pen her grandparents had gifted her as a graduation gift.

And, just in case it turned out to be Santa, she prepared a nice, long letter. She might not believe in the guy, but surely she could fake it long enough to get a gift or two out of it?

So, yeah, Kylie was ready for everything.

Except for a crow.

A crow, perhaps even one of the regulars at the bird-feeder her mother always put out, flew down to rest on the mailbox.

It preened a little, flicked the little flag down and, within seconds, it was gone again.

Surely that couldn’t have been it?

Kylie scrambled out of the bushes she was hiding in, reaching the mailbox in a record time.

Opening the flap, she was ready for anything.

Maybe it was filled with cobwebs or bugs or stuffed to the gills with mail. Maybe there was a cursed amulet, or a treasure map, or a pendant which would give her magical powers?

In any case, she was too curious to care about the possible breach of somebody’s privacy.

Kylie opened the flap and stared inside.

Emptiness glared back.

With a sigh, she closed the mailbox. A loud noise nearly gave her a heart attack before she realized it was just the flag, jarred upright by the sudden motion.

Well. That was boring.

As she made her way back home, she missed the light-blue glow seeping through the cracks in the mailbox, static filling the air just as an airplane was passing by.

The crow returned shortly after, flicking the flag back down with a slightly more vicious peck than before. 

(Note: The entry below was disqualified due to length, but is still awesome.)

Paper Tiger

By: @daalseth​

Lamont was not an impressive man. Small, balding, wearing an ill fitting suit, thick glasses with heavy frames, and clutching a file folder in his hand, he seemed to grow smaller as he entered the Oval Office. The new president was sitting behind the desk for the first time. He on the other hand was tall and loud and to be blunt, everything the first man wasn’t. But then he was a politician.

“Mr, President, sir?” said Lamont with a quiet mousy squeak, “Excuse me, but it’s time for your high security briefing, sir.”

“What?” said the President, “Didn’t we just spend the last three months briefing me on everything from the Chinese highway system to Agricultural Department Seating charts? You mean there’s more?”

“Yes sir. You see sir, there are a couple of items that can only be known by the sitting President. We had to wait until you had taken the oath of office.”

The President had a scowl on his face, “Oh all right then. What’s your name, son?”

“Lamont, sir. Avery Lamont.”

“Well then Lamont, pull up a chair and let’s get on with this.”

Lamont pulled a chair up to the front of the President’s desk and sat down awkwardly. He was uncomfortable in the presence of the President. Brassy, loud, strong men always made him uncomfortable. To be honest, that was also true of loud, strong women as well. For that matter, quiet, meek, men and women made him uncomfortable too. Avery Lamont was just not comfortable around people.

“Ok, well to begin sir, it’s about the nuclear codes.”

“Aw everybody knows about them. They’re in the Nuclear Football that the Secret Service or one of my aids carry wherever I go. If we’re attacked, we open it and there’s our options for retaliation. I already covered this with the Joint Chiefs.”

Lamont looked even more uncomfortable, “Well sir, that’s the thing, uh, they aren’t in there.”

“What do you mean?��� asked the new President in surprise.

“Well sir, the Joint Chiefs don’t know this but the football is all a ruse, a decoy. The bag actually contains a pair of running shoes, and a sweatshirt.”

The President was stunned, “Well then where are the codes?”

“W-well sir, that’s the, uh, thing sir. We, uh, d-don’t actually know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Well sir, it’s kind of a funny story,” said Lamont shifting in his chair and looking at the floor. “Do you remember a few administrations back, one of your predecessors was a bit, um, unstable?”

“Unstable? He was a complete loon. When they carried him out of here he was talking to the wallpaper.”

“Exactly sir, well we decided that with his habit of getting mad at people, and lashing out at them, that it might not be a good idea to have the nuclear codes within arms reach, so we took them out of the football.”

“Ok, that makes sense. But where did you put them?”

Lamont shifted uncomfortably, “We don’t know sir.”

“How could you not know?”

“Well we know approximately. We know about where they are sir.”

“How approximately?’

“They are either in Kansas or Nebraska.”

“Kansas or Nebraska?” said the President in astonishment. “That’s a hell of a lot of territory. Can’t you narrow it down any more than that?”.”

“Well, we do know they were put in a mailbox.”

“What do you mean in a mailbox?”

“We wanted to put them in the last place somebody looking for the nuclear codes would think to look. In that light, a rural mailbox made the most sense.”

“A mailbox?’

“Yes sir.”

“You mean, on a post, with a door in front, and little flag you put up?”

“Yes sir.”

“This is unbelievable,” said the President to himself. “The codes to launch our nuclear missiles are sitting unsecured in a mailbox somewhere in Kansas OR Nebraska?” A vein was beginning to pulse on his forehead.

“No sir they are not unsecured.“ Lamont looked up at the President. “I was adamant about there needing to be tight security on the box. There is an electronic lock on the side, with a keypad. Only someone with the code can get in.”

“Or any kid with a baseball bat, did you ever think about that?”

Lamont was crestfallen and stared at his shoes, “Oh, uh, w-well, no sir, in-in hindsight I guess that should have occurred to us.”

“And anyway how could you lose track of where this mailbox was?”

“Well sir, you see after the attacks of 9/11 things were a bit disorganized around here. People got transferred, documentation was never completed. It turned out the people who knew the location of the mailbox all ended up getting sent to Iraq and Afghanistan.”

“Well get them back,” bellowed the President.

“They are all dead, sir.”

The President looked at Lamont in astonishment. Suddenly he sat up straight.

“Wait, wait, 9/11 and president nutcase was twenty years ago. You mean to tell me that for two decades this country hasn’t had a nuclear deterrent.”

“Oh no sir. We have a deterrent. No one knows that we just can’t actually use it.”

“But anyone who found those codes could?”

“No sir. We were worried about that so just after we lost the codes we quietly pulled all of our nuclear devices back and put them in secure locations.”

“What are the bombers and missiles carrying then?”

“Concrete dummy warheads, they’re perfectly safe in case of accidental launch, sir.”

“I don’t want our nuclear deterrent to be perfectly safe,” said the President sarcastically. “I want them to go boom when I need them too.”

“Yes sir.”

“You mean to tell me if there had been a nuclear exchange all we could have done was throw rocks at the other guys?”

“Well sir,” Lamont stumbled for a bit, “that’s a bit harsh, but I suppose that’s one way of looking at it, sir. That’s why your predecessors were always so bellicose, so no other country would challenge us.”

“Well, effective immediately I want those warheads pulled out of storage and made ready for use. We’ll figure out how to activate them.”

Lamont paused for a bit, “We can’t do that sir,” he said quietly.

“Why the hell not?”

“We uh, we-we don’t actually know where they are either.”

“What?!?” The president was now approaching the colour of the carpet, and two veins were bulging on his forehead.

“You see sir, after the transfer was completed, there was a fire at our documents storage facility in Langley Virginia. It wasn’t a big fire, but it destroyed the documentation for the transfer, where all the devices went.”

“Well somebody must know where in the hell they are.”

“The person who completed all of the authorization paperwork, uh he quit. Became a monk sir.”

“I don’t care if he’s the goddamned Pope. Get out there and ask him where in the hell the warheads went.”

“I’m sorry sir, but it won’t do any good sir.”

“Why not?” The president was now nearly apoplectic.

“Vow of silence sir. He has not talked or written anything at all in fifteen years. We do go out there once a year to see if he’s changed his mind, but so far no luck, sir.”

“I don’t believe this. Can’t you just start asking the various depots? “Hey did you get a bunch of megaton nuclear devices?” You’d think somebody would have noticed them arriving.”

“Well sir, of course we didn’t tell the people in the depots,” Lamont was somewhat indignant. “We always use false packing lists and bills of lading, even the labels on the crates are false. The people at the depots are not cleared for that level of information. To tell them would risk it leaking and the devices getting stolen. We always use fictitious documents for nuclear devices. For security reasons, you understand, sir.”

“Can’t you search the depots? They shouldn’t be that hard to find.”

“We have tried, sir, but these depots are very large, some have square miles of warehouse space with multiple floors. They contain millions of crates, all of which would need to be opened. In that context the warheads aren’t really that noticeable.”

The President slumped back in his chair, he was shocked, and frustrated. Finally he asked sarcastically, “We do have a conventional military force still, don’t we?”

“Oh yes sir, fleets of ships, bombers, soldiers, tanks, we have those.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“I mean, sort of…”

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 23

Previous: Cricket & OT7, Return to Sender

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x OFC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, Government AgentAU, Angst, Some Fluff

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Consensual Sex 

Summary: Black Panther & Codename Cupid meet, Golden Maknae & Black Panther attempt to find a solution 

OR 

What happens when you're confronted with an undeniable lie you've been telling for nearly a year?

(like ... it’s hella long and I only love like... part of it) 

Codename Black Panther Meets Codename Cupid  

Present Day

           It’s awkward, sitting in your office knowing a team of high level, highly intelligent men sit no more than a block away, surveying your every move. Taehyung and Jimin are in their truck, the bugs they’d planted months ago still in use, their sight line into my office unobstructed. So what do you do when you’re under surveillance? No more rapping Childish Gambino at the top of my lungs, no more dancing to ABBA when I’m tired of sitting… No more pretending to work and billing hours when I’m reading conspiracy theory blogs. No more making out with Jungkook when he stops by or whispering filth into his ear when our temperatures are escalating and the need for each other surpasses the need for air.

           I have to remind myself what the most important aspect of being under surveillance is: Act like you aren’t.

           Cupid enters my office in what I can only describe as a knockout outfit, head to toe Chanel, complete with a Birkin and what I can only assume are Hermes sunglasses. She looks stunning, more so than usual.

           “Euna, so good to see you,” I say, gesturing for her to sit. She glances at the chair and shakes her head.

           “For how much I pay you, you should be able to afford nicer furniture,” She hums.

           “Can I get you a water?” I ask, the anger attempting to pull my smile from my lips.

           “Please, Pellegrino?”

           “Yes, lemon and regular,” I inform her.

           “Lemon please,” She says. Cupid takes her sunglasses off and waits patiently for me to return.

           “We have a few updates to discuss,” I tell her. “I have done a little more research on the –

           “I came here to tell you that I will no longer be needing your service,” Cupid interrupts.

           “I’m sorry, have I done something?” I ask, surprise willingly seeping through my features. “I know we had a tense conversation the last time you stopped by, but I didn’t think you wanted me to stop my work.”

           “I have done some digging on my own and have come to the conclusion that it’s incredibly unprofessional of you to engage with Jeon Jungkook in a manner that is far more than casual lovers. He is not who he says he is, and I will not have you investigating your own boyfriend.”

           “Euna, how do you know?”

           “I have my sources,”

           “I thought I was your source,” I counter.

           “You are,”

           “Then, who else are you working with?” I ask again.

           “That is not for you to know,”

           “Okay, but you are clearly mad at me, or frustrated with me, specifically regarding my love life, which is not up for discussion. I want to fix whatever is causing this, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me.” My voice reaches the gravel pit my Speech Therapist told me is unhealthy, ravaging my vocal cords. I can’t tell what her end game is, but I know mine.

           “I do not feel comfortable with him being near my family and being with you means he is. I won’t associate with someone so…,” Cupid scolds me, unable to finish her thought. “Further, I believe you have gone above and beyond what I initially requested, and I am satisfied with the work you have done.”

           “Why is my relationship with Jungkook so-

           “You have love in your eyes,” She says. I gnaw at the dead skin of my bottom lip. “You are no longer leading this investigation with a clear head, and I need someone whose mind isn’t filled with hope to get to the bottom of this. However he knows them, Jeon Jungkook is dangerous.”

“If you tell me, I can ensure he isn’t. We’ve been together for a while, Euna, he isn’t, he isn’t whatever you think he is,” I could easily be lying, in this moment, I have no idea who Jungkook is.

           “Be careful, Y/N, you do not know what they’re capable of.”

           “Euna,” I start again. How does she know he knows them? What intel does she have that I so clearly do not? “What are they capable of?”

           “You don’t want to find out. Here is your last check, bonus included for your exceptional work. I do have one request.” Cupid stands, slipping her shades back over chocolate eyes.

           “Okay?” I ask, standing to mirror her.

           “Burn it all,”

           “Burn it?”

           “Whatever documentation you have from my time working with you, it would be in your best interest to burn it,” Euna chooses her words carefully, a trait of being a CEO. I swallow thickly, nodding my head.

           “Okay, and Euna?” I ask.

           “Hmm?”

           “I’m sorry this wasn’t everything you wanted it to be, and that I couldn’t find Yoongi,” I concede.

           “Oh, don’t apologize. I would be a terrible businesswoman if this was the end of my plans.” Replacing her frown with a gentle smile, she walks towards the door. “When you see Min Yoongi, tell him I’ll be waiting.”

           “What makes you think I’ll be seeing Min Yoongi?”

           “Oh Y/N, I have a little faith.”

           I watch her leave and decide that banging my head against a wall regarding what Cupid knows and I don’t is worthless. I guarantee Namjoon has another file waiting for me with all the answers to the questions he’s assuming I’m going to ask. He isn’t wrong, I do have a million questions, ones for Jungkook, ones for Namjoon, about nine million for Yoongi, and a few for Jimin. Yoongi was so smug, arrogant, rude, a complete ass hole. I hate him. But I also deeply respect his game. I also completely understand why Jun-Seo fell for Jimin, he is by far the most gorgeous man I have ever seen up close, next to Taehyung. And Jungkook. In person? Holy fuck, Park Jimin can fucking get it.

           Speaking of the man in question, who is now a suspect to Euna, is waiting patiently for me when I come home. Jungkook’s not stalking in the darkness, slinking through the night to find me, catching me off guard once I close the front door. He’s silent in his approach, waiting patiently for me. But tonight, either in an effort to smooth things over or out of the pure goodness of his heart, he’s home. He’s got takeout waiting on the table, glasses of water and booze sitting in the appropriate places, necessary silverware set in place. This isn’t fucking Thanksgiving, it’s a goddamned Thursday night. He himself is waiting patiently on the couch, lying down, eyes closed and soft snores coming out of his mouth. He looks cozy in ripped jeans and a sweatshirt, his hair growing long again, bleached, a look I was thoroughly against until I laid eyes on him.

           Walking. Sex.

           That’s the only way I can describe him.

           “Go home,” I purposefully slam the door, jolting him from his slumber.

           “I am home,” He responds.

           “I can’t do this with you,”

           “We need to talk,” he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes.

           “I don’t want to talk right now, JK, I want to go to sleep,”

           “JK?” His eyebrows raise to say hello to his hairline.

           “Yes, I don’t want to talk, go home.”

           “Cricket, you haven’t eaten dinner yet,” He reminds me.

           I can feel the tears prickling again, the ones I’d shed in front of OT7, the ones I’d born in the car, the ones I’d been bottling up for the last thirty-six hours, trying to not be so obviously heartbroken as I stared Lee Euna down. I’m too sad to fight him, so I don’t, letting him stand and guide me to the table where the Thai awaits. Dropping my bag down, I walk through to my bedroom, into the bathroom and shut the door.

           “I’m showering first,” I call, ignoring the protest in his eyes as I walked away.

           It’s a little too spot on to blast Adele, but I don’t fucking care. I turn it as loudly as my neighbors will tolerate and sing my sorrows. Tears mixing with cleanser, the poetry of their juxtaposition not lost as Adele fades into Ben Platt, and I’m sobbing as I release the words, noticing the magnitude of the change of phrase:  

Now my heart is in your hands, please don't give it up / This is not a temporary love / This is not a temporary love / No, this is not a temporary love / Now your heart is in my hands, please don't give it up

           I know Jungkook will be waiting for me to finish showering, and I know he’ll be ready to listen. He’ll beat himself up over whatever I say, he’ll listen when my voice raises, when it cracks, when it shakes. He always does. I guess that’s the thing about Jungkook, no matter how inexperienced he feels about loving someone, taking care of them, supporting them, he always does it and does it well. He shows up, even when he feels like he can’t. It’s been over a year, never once have I doubted his dedication, his steadfast love, not when he walked into the meeting with OT7, or when he tried to follow me after, or in the voicemails and texts he’s left since. I’ve never doubted Jungkook.

           I shuffle from the warmth of my bathroom towards the kitchen table, where Jungkook is sitting.

           “I reheated your plate,” Jungkook says. He’s sitting quietly, eyes full and downcast.

           “Thanks,”

           “Do you want to eat then talk, or talk first?” He offers the two options, knowing which I’ll pick.

           “Eat,” I sit across from him, noting how he placed my food as far from him as possible, a notable decision that not only highlights how deeply he knows me, but that he still fucking cares. “You ate already?”

           “I, yeah, I couldn’t wait,” He’s shy, a blush on his cheeks.

           “Why? You always wait,”

           “I’ve been on a small mission for the last twenty-four hours, no food, and I’ve been so anxious about us that I just… Seeing you just made all that stress disappear, so I ate,” Jungkook tells me. He sniffles, his tears starting to fall.

           “A small mission?”

           “Mm, to find out what happened to Bow and Arrow in 2012 and 2014 respectively,” He answers.

           “Did you find out?”

           “Yeah, but, well, you haven’t been onboarded. But one of our rules is that you don’t discuss work outside of headquarters,”

           “Right, sure, makes sense,” I nod. I glance at him again, nose red, tears still falling. “I can’t eat if you’re crying.”

           “I’ll sit on the couch,” He stands and shuffles towards the grey clothed piece I scrimped and saved for. It’s beyond worn out, pills of fabric piled on the edges of cushions, stains from mishaps and craft projects I should’ve done at the table. It’s housed many naps and a few guests. Jungkook looks nestled amongst the pillows.

           I eat my food quietly, trying to figure out what it is exactly that I want to tell him. I’m not entirely sure I know what will come out of my mouth when I have to stare into his Bambi eyes. But I think I know what will come out of his, and I don’t want to hear it.

           “I’m sorry,” Jungkook starts. The dishes are cleared, and he’s waiting patiently for me on the couch. I don’t sit down, just stare at the spot above his head.

           “How long have you known?” It’s better to just rip the bandage off, right?

           “Four months,” Jungkook answers.

           “How long have you known Jimin?”

           “Eight years. How long have you known about my connection to Jimin and Taehyung?”

           “A year,” I whisper. My sin seems far worse than his.

           “A year?” Jungkook’s astonished. “You’re mad at me for a few months that were direct orders when you’ve been what, suspicious for a year?”

           “You lied to me, fundamentally lied about who you are, I asked you for one fucking thing in this relationship, and you broke it.” I yell.

           “Technically, you asked me two things, and I have followed through on both of those.” Why is his voice measured? Why doesn’t he yell when I yell?

           “You lied!” My voice rises another octave, “What was your goal, to perpetuate the lie for as long as possible?”

           “I had a job-

           “I had a job!” I counter.

           “My job requires me to do certain things without asking,” Jungkook’s tears continue to fall. “I asked if I could tell you, and I told you what I could.”

           “You spied on me, gave all my evidence and –

           “I didn’t spy on you,” His teeth are gritted, bunny smile lost to the nasty snare he’s tightened across his lips.

           “Your friends spied on me,” I correct myself.

           “You spied on my friends!” Jungkook countered.

           “Your friends? The men that until two days ago I didn’t know were part of a giant governmental body that’s going to take down the largest conglomerate in the world? Who even are they? Who the fuck do they work for? What the fuck do they even do? I didn’t know you could be a secret organization without like, the federal government or Interpol knowing who you are but to my surprise, you can!”

           Jungkook rolls his eyes, it’s aggressive and sharp, seeing his entire brain as they roll. “I had to lie. You, you knew and didn’t say anything. Why not say something?”

           I sigh, I can tell him why I didn’t say anything, but I can’t tell him why I didn’t say anything. You know?

           “I had no real proof that you really knew them,” I begin, “all I had was a hunch, a reaction they had that made it seem like they knew you. I put a few pieces together, but I didn’t have any real evidence that would hold up in court or against your withering stare. And, what if you were dangerous? OT7 is dangerous, you all could’ve hurt me. Why couldn’t me hiding it be about my safety?”

           “You’re grasping at straws. If you had thought I wasn’t safe to be with, you wouldn’t be here a year later.”

           “Tell me this, Jungkook, why, in front of all of your best friends, did you fucking let Namjoon tear me to pieces? Why, Jungkook, did you not say anything when you were left off my list of romantic partners? Do they not know about us? Do they not know you, we, love each other? Is this not what I thought it was?” Ah, and there the tears are.

           “I wanted to be off the list,” He whispers.

           “Why Jungkook? From where I’m standing, it fucking feels like you’re trying your hardest to erase me, like, like this almost year and a half that we’ve been together means nothing because I’m just a god damn mark. Is that what I am? Have I been reduced to that?”

           “No!” He stands and shakes his head repeatedly.

           “Then who am I to you? Am I your girlfriend? Am I your best friend? Or am I a piece in a larger puzzle that you are trying to solve?” I demand, pausing minutely to gasp for air. “I know what you are to me, I know how I feel about you. All my feelings have done in the last year is grow. I love you more than I did last week, I care about you more deeply than I did when you told me about how you were raised, a slight lie, but still honest. I see us, our life together more clearly than I ever have, but two days ago I.” I let the tears fall, pulling my mascara, never waterproof, and eyeshadow down with them. “I looked like the fool. I was the little girl attempting to play dress up with the fucking Tony Award winning cast of Catch Me if You Can. So, if I’m not the butt of the joke to you, who the fuck am I Jungkook?”

           He wipes his eyes on his sleeves, which have covered his hands and are balled beneath his fingers. I’ve never seen him this upset. I know I’m not prepared for what is going to come out of his mouth.

           “Namjoon tells people that we’re the one who knocks, but we aren’t. We’re the ones who send in the team to knock, we call all the shots, gather all the data, work the case until it is made out of marble. There are no cracks unless we have intentionally left them. We work as a unit, I don’t breathe without Hoseok knowing. I don’t brush my hair without Jimin catching it. We exist because of each other.” He sighs, “I took myself off the list on purpose. Your existence in my life is a threat. People know who I am, and if they know you…”

He shakes his head, a flash of what I experienced a few weeks ago, the idea of not coming home to this, to us… It’s in his eyes and it’s breaking my heart.  

           “I know we can keep you safe. I have full faith that our team will always protect you, but if I’m on that list, if there’s a trail of me to you, or vice versa. We’re at risk. I cannot, and I will not, lose you. I will not let my work put your life at risk, I will not sacrifice myself if it means I won’t come home to you. At the end of the day, isn’t that our promise to each other? I love you, and I am so sorry I lied to you, but my hands were tied. I can’t step out of line without risking everything OT7 is and does. I won’t do it.”

           “I’m not asking you to be a coward,” I whisper.

           “What?” Jungkook asks, for the first time in a few days, his eyes are softening, confusion replacing hurt.            

           "In Charmed, Phoebe asks Cole to back down, and he responds by saying he would do anything for her, except be a coward. He begs, please don’t ask me to be. I’m not asking you to be a coward, Jungkook.”

           “I know you’re not. I asked Namjoon if I could tell you, about my job,”

           “I remember,”

           “I didn’t give specifics about who you are. I didn’t tell OT7 because I didn’t want you to be used in this case, I didn’t want this to be happening. But I walked into the offices and there you were, your photo, your stats, your codename,” A shiver runs over my spine at the mention of a codename, something so intentional, deliberate, precise. They’d taken the time to include me. “I didn’t know that Jimin and Taehyung had been following you for months or had interacted with you. They asked me point blank and I couldn’t lie. I wouldn’t lie about you, you’re too important. Namjoon gave me orders, and I’m obligated to follow them.”

           “You lied to me,” I repeat.

           “You lied to me, too.”

           I stare at him, I don’t know how to fix this.

           “We don’t have to forgive each other, or understand one another or work through it, now or ever. But I think that would be a disservice, a betrayal, of our relationship. You did ask me who you are to me, and the best way to explain it is this,” He grabs a paper off the coffee table and hands it to me, “Namjoon had me write it down.”

           Cautiously I take the paper from him, typed and unedited, it’s longer than I expected. “Is this a twisted love letter?”

           “You could say that,” Jungkook’s soft smile returns.

           “Read it to me,” I hand it back.

           Sniffling, “I’ll keep crying,”

           “Please?” I ask again, sitting on the couch. He nods gently and sits next to me.

           “Can I hold your hand?” He asks. The flames have been handled, dulled to hot embers as we sit, thigh touching thigh, his tattooed covered hand engulfing mine.

           “Y/N and I began dating after meeting in a bar. I was struck by how stunning she was, how much I wanted to understand the flush of her cheeks, the curve of her jaw, the cadence of her laugh. We flirted, and I bought her drink. That first night in her apartment, where I now spend almost all of my time, I was overwhelmed by how much it felt like home… which is insane and I’ve never told her, but that night, I could just see us there, our future, all enfolding in front of me... Her apartment doesn’t turn you away or disinvite you once you’ve arrived, it’s far too warm and cozy, just like her. It’s my favorite place in the world, she’s my favorite place.

            We spent the night laughing, kissing, getting to know each other. It was something in her eyes, in the way she absentmindedly traced my tattoos, how she fell asleep so easily in my arms. The next morning, we got breakfast, and I asked her out for a date on Monday. Dinner and a movie, classic. She let me hold her hand, and skillfully argued why she should pay for dinner. I compromised, she bought the movie tickets and treats. I barely paid attention to the movie, I just wanted to watch her laugh. Since that night, she’s all I ever think about.

           She said she wanted to know what she was going to drown in before she dove in, and I knew in that moment that I loved her. I’ve never heard such poetry spoken, let alone about me, to me, before… She just, she was vulnerable without hesitation. I didn’t understand how she could be so delicate with me, so exposed, so willing to let me in. Her vulnerability welcomed mine, embraced it, and I’ve been loving her ever since.

           I’ve never loved someone quite like her. She is brash, she makes decisions and sticks with them regardless of how difficult they make her life. She works side projects for neighbors, unpaid, to ease their lives. The man she rents her office from has a few kids, and in the summers, she takes a day a week to watch them. She hates cooking and brushes her teeth for over the recommended time because she’s terrified they’ll rot. She buys packs of the same popsicles and never leaves without a full water bottle. She hates sports, would rather sit in silence and stare at a wall than watch a football game, but she’ll check up on the highlights if it matters to me. She listens to the same music on a loop and adds in songs I love to her playlists because she wants to feel close to me, to understand me, to see me.

           I could continue listing all the things about her, that I love, or all the things I love about our relationship… how we compromise, how we talk through our squabbles, how we respect each other, how we can communicate without speaking but know each other’s voice is our favorite sound. I love that she’s perceptive and asks for alone time when she needs to recharge and can sense from the tone in my voice when I need the same. I love how she sees me, listens to me, brings out the parts of me only OT7 knows. Like I said, I could keep writing… but it’s easier to put it this way:

           Y/N is the love of my life, and I will do anything to protect her, to love her, to come home to her every day and every night that she’ll have me.

           I will not break my promise to her. Lock and key.”

           Jungkook sets the paper down and doesn’t look at me. I’m openly balling next to him, sobs ripping through me in quick succession.

           No one has ever loved me like this.

           I’ve only dreamed of love like this, I mean, no one has this, right? He’s offering it to me, no strings attached, no secrets, love for the sake of love. Love without penance or an additional cost to it. Here he is, all ink and doe eyes, holding me, the woman who lied to him, deceived him, was suspicious of him for months, hoping he still holds that love for me.

           “You’re just, you’re the love of my life,” I wail, hands still covering my face as snot gloms onto my palms.

           “Cricket,” Jungkook wraps his arms around me as his tears fall onto my body. “I love you.”

           “I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I kept it from you. I just, I didn’t know and I,”

           “Shh, Cricket, it’s okay,”

           “Bunny,” I say, “I’m sorry. I forgive you. You don’t have to forgive me.”

           “I forgive you,” He tells me.

           “You do?”

           “Yes. I’ve watched every member of OT7 lose their relationships, be beaten up over a fake relationship with a mark, giving themselves to someone to have it crumble under direct orders. Jimin is still trying to unravel the Arrow if it all. I didn’t, I didn’t want work to ruin us.”

           “You wouldn’t let it,” I assure him.

           “I wouldn’t, but there’s always the threat,”

           “Are you secretly more cunning than I give you credit for?”

           “Absolutely,” He smirks.

           “I missed you,” I whisper. Can he hear my heartache? We’ve never gone 36 hours apart… not since our first month or two dating. It’s horrible, I hate it.

           “It hasn’t been two days,” His chuckle is light, a sniffle accompanying the sound.

           “I know, I missed you though,” I nuzzle deeper into his side, my nose brushing his neck.

           “I missed you too,”

           “I don’t want to ever fight like that again,” I tell him.

           “I can’t guarantee that we won’t,” He reaches his free arm around his torso, knitting his hands together, solidifying my body to him.

           “Can you promise me something?” I ask.

           “Yes,”

           “I promise not to quote Runaway Bride in its entirety,” I start. “But I will still quote it,” I sit up, eyes swollen and red, finding focus on his marble cut features. “Promise me that when things get tough, when one or the both of us wants out, we’ll remember that we made it through this, and we can make it through anything.”

           “Do you know in your heart that I’m the one for you?” He asks.

           I hate that he leans into my vulnerability, that I’m unable to hide myself from him. I’ve never been able to, not the first night, and not now.

           “I will regret it, every day of my life, if I don’t make you mine,” I recite.

           “Promise me something,” Jungkook starts.

           “The moon and the stars,” I tell him.

           “That you won’t lie to me,” He says.

           “I promise,” I stick my pinky out.

           “You’ll come home to me, always,” He loops his with mine.

           “I promise,” I kiss my right hand, he mimics the gesture. “Do you think, maybe we should –

           “Move in?” He finishes. His gaze holds mine, all hope, no expectations.

           “Yeah,” I nod.

           “Yes, here?” It’s hard to imagine he was just crying, the excitement sweeping over his entire body as he stands up and shakes his fists.

           “Is your lease up?” I laugh, he’s beyond cute.

           “Fuck the lease,” He laughs coming back to the couch. His hands cup my cheeks, fingers gently pressing on my neck, thumb softly caressing my cheeks.

           “Bunny?” I whisper, eyes flicking to his lips.

           “Cricket,” He answers.

           “Lock and key,”

           “Lock and key,”

           “You and me,”

           “You and me,” He leans forward, lips finally meeting. The anticipation of having him in my arms, the ache of his absence over the last day and a half, the unsteady calm of opening your heart to someone… it’s all there in how his lips move against mine, how his tongue gently passes my lips, how his hands move down my body. The opposite of hope is fear, the opposite of pain is joy, as we move together, bodies joining, sweat mixing and names said in pure ecstasy, Jungkook and I solidify what we’ve always known about each other and our relationship.

           Lock and key, him and me.

Next: OT8

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

When You Least Expect It, Part Sixteen

Jensen Ackles x Musician!Reader

Masterlist - Contains Chapter Links & Wardrobe Collages

A/N: This is a much shorter chapter than the rest, but I hope you enjoy it! 

Spotify Playlist

Series Summary: After a hard breakup, Jensen decides to throw himself into organizing a Music Festival in Austin that is meant to raise money for a few of his most cherished charities and organizations. As he throws himself into planning it, he stumbles upon a spirited, undiscovered performer, who he convinces to come aboard to help plan and coordinate the event with him.

What transpires after that takes both Jensen and his new friend, by surprise. But when their respective pasts come back just before the event kicks off in Austin, they will both have to decide if the unexpected feelings are worth perusing, or if they should just walk away and go on with their lives.

Series Warnings: Language, Break-Ups, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mild Violence, Talk of Domestic Abuse

Chapter Summary: With the festival rapidly approaching, everyone is both on edge and excited for what lies ahead.

Chaper Warnings: None

WC: 6.5K

Series Beta’d by @closetspngirl​​

Dee

The private investigator Dee hired last Spring had been worth every penny. The information he delivered on Jensen’s new girlfriend gave her more than she could have hoped for. Her plan to contact the little twit’s ex-boyfriend seemed like a good idea at first; but as the weeks turned into months, even Dee could see Nathan’s instability grow. Once word of the incident at Jensen’s brewery reached her, she knew that maybe things had gone too far. All she wanted to do was try and cause some drama, hoping Jensen would shy away from the beach brat he was suddenly so obsessed with and come back to her. But as she sat, nipping at her cuticles while waiting in her rented Beamer for Nathan to show, she realized what a futile effort it had been.

The plan completely backfired, only pushing the two of them closer. Gen had let it slip that Y/N was now living in Vancouver with Jensen, completely bringing Dee’s hopes of a reconciliation crumbling to the ground. Even she had never been asked to move to Vancouver with him while they were together, and was instantly crushed when she heard the news. There was no chance of Jensen coming back to her; Dee knew that now it was a matter of protecting herself. Only God knew exactly what Nathan was capable of, but with the glimpses Dee had caught of him, she seriously began to fear how this would backlash onto her, if her part in everything had come out. 

Everything she had done up until that point hadn’t been illegal, really. All she did was make a few phone calls and provoke a stranger into reacting. Yet somehow she knew that if Nathan was caught, and started talking, her name would be spoken and she’d have some things to answer for. Knowing the light it would paint her in, knowing how it could affect her career, Dee needed to be sure that Nathan would keep her out of it. After all, HE was the one who took things too far. 

Dee turned her delicate wrist and checked the time on her watch; already a quarter past ten in the morning. Nathan had promised to meet her early that day outside of a small diner located in the outskirts of Austin. It was two days before the festival was to kick off, and she just needed a few reassurances before the big day. She still hated Y/N and loved Jensen, but deep down she finally conceded that SHE wasn’t the one he loved; Y/N was. 

Another twenty minutes passed with no sign of Nathan. When she checked her watch again and saw it was nearly eleven, she closed her eyes and felt her stomach bottom out. Dee pushed the start button on her rental and hung her head, long strands of red hair obscuring her face and the handful of regretful tears that ran through her makeup. A soft, yet shaky laugh turned into shaking sobs as the air conditioning began to blow her hair back lightly. She drew in a deep breath and brought her vision back up towards the windshield. Off to the right of the old titanium plated diner, stood a tall, lanky man in a grey hoodie and ripped jeans. She felt his eyes on her and a mild bout of nerves raced through her veins. The man’s hood was drawn tightly around his head, leaving his face in a swirl of shadows. Regardless, she could feel his eyes on her and knew that it was Nathan. 

They had only met in person once before earlier that Spring, and it was a brief encounter at best. Dee had been hesitant to meet face to face, but Nathan insisted. He said he was worried for Y/N, and the kind of people she’d gotten involved with. He was pushy and borderline manic, so Dee agreed to meet at the same diner she was now parked in front of. They drank coffee and Dee listened as Nathan recounted his surprise visit with Y/N. The way he explained it, she had turned her back on him, and then provoked Jensen into attacking him. His expression was concerned and fretful, but Dee knew it had all been an act. She was an actress, after all, and she could spot his lies a hundred miles away. Yet, it didn’t stop her from encouraging him to fight back, and fight for his girl.

The break-in at the condo hadn’t been all her idea, though as she sat in nervous self-reflection, she wouldn’t be able to deny planting the seed of thought in Nathan’s head. But, her little birdies told her that the amount of destruction that had been left was extensive, and far more than she felt comfortable with. 

She killed the engine of the car, again, and slowly opened the driver’s side door. The minute it cracked open, Nathan began to approach her. When he was closer, she could see his features were drawn and his complexion turned ashy. The dark circles under his eyes and the pale tone of his lips caused her brow to furrow.

“Jesus, Nathan. What the hell happened to you?��

Nathan shrugged. “Life.”

“Well, maybe you should rethink the life you’re living if it’s leaving you looking like that.” Dee gave him a good once over, and noticed his hands were shaking. “Are you on drugs?”

He let out a deep, haunting laugh. “What the fuck you know about the drug life, Princess?”

“N-Nothing really, but I’ve been around enough people that do them to know what a junkie looks like.”

“You don’t know shit about shit. What the hell do you want, hm? You nagged me to get here so you could just put me down like everyone else?” His words weren’t threatening, but the tone and body language he delivered them with, was.

“No, I just… shit, man… this all got out of hand. I just wanted to check in, make sure you were okay,” she lied, doing her best to keep her face from betraying her. “I’m concerned.”

“Are you now?” Nathan snorted, and pushed the hood off his head, revealing his shaggy, dirty hair that was plastered to his head thanks to the heat of the Austin summer. “What made you so concerned? I did what you asked. I tried to break them up. But…” he trailed off, his eyes looking in Dee’s direction, but it was clear that he wasn’t actually seeing her.

“I was wrong, okay? Clearly those two idiots are happy together. So, I wanted to tell you that you could stop trying to break them up.”

Nathan shook his head slowly, and in a way that caused a bolt of anxiety to run down Dee’s spine. “Naw, can’t do that.”

“Can’t--can’t do what?”

“Stop trying to break them up…. Y/N is all I got left in this world.”

“But, what if she doesn’t want you? Then what? Do you really want her if she doesn’t want you? You deserve someone who loves you for who and what you are. Don’t get hung up on some past relationship because you think it's what you deserve. Trust me, Nathan, I speak from experience.”

“I give two shits about your experience. Y/N is my girl,” he snarled at her, “...always has been. So why don’t you bug the fuck off and leave me alone.”

“I will, I promise. But first I just need to make sure…” Dee let her words hang in the air, hoping he would get their meaning without her having to actually say it. From his expression, she knew that he got her point, but the concerning grin that unfurled on his face told her he wasn’t going to cut her an inch of slack. “...are you… I mean, can you, leave my name out of it?”

“It?” he asked, goading her into having to say the words.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Jesus.. Fine. Please leave my name out of any involvement with whatever scheme you come up with next? Yes, I wanted them broken up, but the things you’ve done… I can’t be a part of it.”

“Too late, Princess. You’re part of it. And if I go down for any of this bullshit, so do you.”

Jensen

In the few weeks after their vacation at the shore, Jensen and Y/N were busier than ever. Each day brought some sort of hurdle that one or both of them needed to clear. As days dwindled down towards the start of the festival, they were more determined than ever to make it the best weekend Austin had ever seen. A few last minute additions to the various stage line ups caused some headaches, but they made it work and in the end. Jensen was still in awe watching Y/N handle the musicians, the vendors, the sponsors, the various charity groups involved, and all while she was trying to get her own music set list together. Not to mention practicing via video conference with Robbie and the rest of Louden Swain. 

For most of his life, Jensen always wondered if a woman like her existed. Y/N was by no means perfect; she could be moody, and a bit of a slob which sometimes drove him crazy. Then, he would see her sitting on the couch, legs crossed in some ungodly way, with her head buried in her computer or a guitar on her lap, and any of her imperfections just melted away. Y/N did little else other than eat, sleep and breathe the festival. There were times in those weeks where despite the hectic schedule of planning and also filming the show, he half wished it was over already. Jensen wanted to start his life with Y/N, be with her without the current pressure that sat on both their shoulders. He and Jared had discussed on numerous occasions that maybe it was time for Supernatural to come to an end, giving them the opportunity to explore life outside of their precious Impala. But it wasn’t until those weeks between Seaside and the festival, that he was seriously considering it. 

The idea of not living and working in Vancouver with his best friend normally caused a mild panic to settle into his gut. However, the last time he and Jared had discussed it, they both felt that the end was in sight. Jensen never brought it up to Y/N, never felt like the right time. With all their respective traveling and work loads, trying to plan a future needed to be put on the back burner. As much as it killed him to do so, he knew it was best for both their sakes. He decided once the festival was over he’d bring it up to her. Then, they could make a plan. If there was one thing Jensen knew for absolutely certainty, it was that he didn’t see any type of future without her in it.

They were knee deep in filming the seventh episode of the season, so if a decision was to be made about the future of the show, it had to be soon. Production was shutting down for five days solely so the entire cast and crew could fly down for the festival. Every single one of them had agreed to volunteer, or help out somehow, and it warmed his heart more than he could put into words. These people had become his extended family, a support system when he felt he had reached rock bottom, and some of the best damn human beings he’d ever met.

Filming had wrapped for the extended weekend, and Jensen was feeling that last scene in every muscle and bone. Fight scenes were always fun to block out, but once it got to actually throwing the stuntmen around, and executing the moves on camera it tended to wear him out. As Jensen plodded back to his trailer, both relieved and exhausted, he noticed a light was on inside, and saw the shadow of his best friend moving about. A little smirk twitched on his face as he climbed the metal steps to the trailer and quietly pushed open the door.

Jared was singing under his breath as Jensen walked in unnoticed. Jensen leaned against the door watching him, trying not to laugh as Jared’s head bobbed to the song stuck in his head. It was when Jared started making guitar riff noises that Jensen’s resolve broke, and he started clapping loudly, making his best friend nearly jump out of his skin.

“Bravo my man!” Jensen teased and walked slowly through the large trailer. “Hey, how come we didn’t find you a slot in the festival? With pipes like that--”

“Shut up,” Jared sighed and sat down on the leather couch, still clutching his chest from Jensen’s sudden intrusion. “Damn near gave me a heart attack.”

“Yeah, well, now you know what your singing does to me.”

“I’m sorry, DEAN, I thought we were done filming for today.” Jared rolled his eyes, but was unable to hide his own smile at their banter. “Seriously though, I thought we were done. Took you long enough to get back here.”

“Had to re-block one of the fight scenes. I was completely off my game, man. I don’t know if it’s exhaustion or what, but I could feel myself half-assing it.”

“Dude, do you not realize the year you’ve had? There are times I am amazed you’re still standing.”

Jensen shrugged it off and grabbed two cold beers from the mini-fridge, before handing one to Jared and sitting on the recliner across from him. 

“Not like we haven’t been here before,” Jensen replied, but he knew what Jared really meant. Ignoring the look he could feel coming from the other side of the room, he leaned forward in the chair and finally met Jared’s eyes. “Speaking of… I think me, you and Misha really need to sit down and talk.”

Jared snorted a laugh and nodded. “Yeah, I agree. It’s why I’m here, actually.”

After so many years together, the two friends could talk without words. Due to previous discussions and the telepathy that had developed through more than a decade of friendship, neither had to say what was on their mind. 

Jared raised his beer and Jensen followed suit. They clincked the bottles together in cheers and each took a long draw of the dark brew. 

“To one final season of Supernatural,” Jensen said with Jared nodding in agreement. 

“To one more kick ass ride,” Jared smiled and took another pull from the bottle. 

They sat in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision slowly rolling off their shoulders. The air in the trailer felt lighter somehow, as if just saying the words out loud relieved some of the tension it had contained. 

“Misha on board?” Jensen asked and looked up to see his friend nodding. 

“He is. He’s broken up about it as much as we are, but he knows its time.”

Jensen just nodded and sat back in his chair. “Think we got one more year in us?”

“Damn straight we do. Hell, I know we have another FIVE years in us. Truth is, I think we are just both ready for the next thing… whatever that looks like.”

Again, Jensen nodded in agreement but sat quietly, contemplating what that thing was. “Do you know what you want to do?” 

Jared shook his head. “Not really. A few offers have come in for movies, a new show or two, but nothing that really jumps up at me. I just know I want to be home more, help Gen with the kids. Actually be there and see them grow up.” He paused and looked at Jensen, who seemed a million miles away despite sitting two feet in front of him. “Jay? What about you? Do you know what comes next?”

A hint of a smile pulled at the corner of Jensen’s mouth. “I sure do, my brother. I sure as hell do. I want what you have with Gen. Wife, kids, house… the whole nine. When this festival is over, I’m going to ask Y/N to marry me. Whatever happens after that, doesn’t matter. I just know that my life isn’t complete, unless she’s in it with me.”

Jared nodded in agreement, and despite the heaviness of the decision they had come to, he could see the love and excitement in his best friend’s face. He raised his beer again, “That, is the best damn thing I’ve heard you say in forever. I admit I was skeptical at first, but Y/N brings out something in you I’ve never seen before.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” 

“Pure, unadulterated, happiness.”

Jensen leaned back in his chair, and for the first time in his life, he knew that no matter what came next, he would be okay because Jared was right. Y/N made him happier and more alive than anything else ever had. The life he had always wanted, with the woman he always dreamed of was right in front of him for the taking.

Y/N

Forty-eight hours from the start of the festival, and Y/N’s nerves were showing signs of strain from the pressure she had put on herself. She wanted everything about the weekend to be perfect; from the many venues, band line ups, vendors and volunteers. She oversaw everything, right down to the signs that she had the local schools help make that marked each section of the festival. 

The idea had hit her months ago, to divide up the Austin Hometown & Brew Fest into little representations of each major city that was contributing food, drinks and music. Each school district in Austin was responsible for creating colorful signs for each “town”, and as she stood looked through the pictures of each one, her tired heart soared with pride and a surge of adrenaline she desperately needed. When she had been offered the job by Jensen, Y/N never believed for a second she would have the knowledge or drive to pull it off. Yet somehow, here she was--in the home stretch and still running. 

Y/N stared at her phone flipping through the images Bri had sent her, as she walked barefoot through the Vancouver apartment waiting for Jensen to get back from filming so they could leave for the airport. They had a late flight to Austin, which didn’t give them much time, but they could make it work. Somehow, they always found a way. With Robbie, Bri and Mama already in Austin, Y/N knew that everything would get done that needed to, because they were just as invested in this as she and Jensen were and she couldn’t ask for much more than that. Y/N had an amazing crew behind her, a boyfriend she loved more than life, and a future with endless possibilities. 

Just as she felt her stomach rubble, and made her way into the kitchen, the phone in her hand began to buzz. Bri’s name popped up, causing Y/N to smile and forget the hunger pains that nagged her. 

“Hey Bri,” she answered with tired enthusiasm, “everything okay down there?”

“Stop being a worry wort, everything is FINE! I’m calling to check on you. How’s the nerves? Holding steady?”

“Eh, let’s just say I am holding it together. Too much to think about for me to start feeling the heat now.”

“Mhm, okay. Now, you want to try to say that in a way that will make me believe it?”

“Hush, I’m fine. Tired, but fine.”

“If you say so. Honey, I promise you, everything is on track here. Robbie has the venues locked down. The stages are finishing being built, all the lights and equipment have been tested. Mama has the two theaters ready to rock n roll. Hell, even Gen is getting in on things. Do you know she took the kids down to the elementary school and helped them finish up the last few banners. I am telling you, there is nothing to worry about.”

Y/N felt a surge of relief, and let it wash over her taking with it the stress of last minute details. Yet, there was a nagging feeling left she didn’t like. One that settled in the pit of her stomach like a led weight. 

“Bri…” Y/N paused, unsure of how to phrase what she wanted to ask. “...has there been any signs… or even a whiff of--”

“Nathan? No. There hasn’t.”

Y/N sighed audibly and felt her knees weaken at the sound of his name. She hated that even after the months that had passed since the breakin and incident in the brewery parking lot, the sound of his name could bring her such anxiety. 

“You sure?”

“I swear. The police still have an APB on him, all the volunteers and security guards have seen his picture and know what to look for should he be stupid enough to try and get into any restricted areas.”

“Okay.” But Y/N wasn’t totally convinced. She felt it could be her own paranoia and years of history with Nathan, but she needed to focus on the tasks ahead, and not look back on a past that would continue to haunt her, if she let it.

“Listen, it’s late. Tomorrow morning, I’ll meet you at Jensen’s place here in town, and we will spend the entire day going over every last minute detail. You can bite your nails and stress the day away, but for now, go grab some food, take a nap, blast some music… whatever is going to make you chill out. Robbie and I got this. Mama, too. That lady is a force of nature and loves you somethin’ fierce. So if there is any one thing out of place, I guaran-damn-tee, Mama June will handle it.”

Y/N laughed, and immediately conjured an image of Mama bossing Robbie around, while Bri sat back chuckling. “You’re right. Between her, you and Robbie, I really have nothing to worry about.”

“Good girl. Now, how long before your flight leaves?”

“We have to be at the airport by ten, and I think it leaves at twelve thirty.”

“Okay, I’ll have a car there waiting to pick you guys up. Now, I know you two horn dogs can’t keep your hands off each other, but may I suggest some SLEEP when you get to Austin. Big days ahead, and we need you both well rested and ready to kick this in the ass!”

“You know Briana, there are days I truly, from the bottom of my heart, cannot stand you.”

“What can I say, it's a gift. I’ll see you in the morning,” she laughed and made three loud kissing noises.

“Love you too, Bri,” Y/N laughed and shook her head, “See you tomorrow.”

As Y/N ended the call, her stomach reminded her of her promise of cold pizza from the fridge. She placed her cell phone on the counter and began to rummage through the two left over pizza boxes. She grabbed two plain slices, and just as she took a huge bite, her phone began to ring again. Assuming it was Bri calling back, she answered without looking at the caller ID.

“I swear, I am going to eat and take a nap!” she mumbled in protest as an answer, with a mouth full of cold pizza, but no response came. Y/N chewed and swallowed as quickly as she could, thinking that her jumbled greeting may have thrown Bri off. “Sorry, had a mouth full of food. Miss me already?” she teased. 

Again, no answer came, and that weight in her stomach twisted up like a tornado and clogged her throat. 

“Hel--Hello? Bri?” She moved the phone from her face and looked at the screen. Bri’s name wasn’t there, nor was Robbie’s. Instead it just said, Private Caller. “Who is this?”

Five, maybe ten seconds passed, but for Y/N, it felt like an eternity. She could hear someone breathing on the other end, and in her gut, she was convinced it was Nathan. 

When the person finally spoke, it was not the voice she suspected to hear. Not a man’s voice, but a digitally altered one. “Just a warning… cancel the festival, or there could be consequences.”

Y/N was speechless. She stood in Jensen’s kitchen, frozen in place with the phone glued to her hand. Slowly she brought the screen away from her face again, staring at the Private Caller and their ominous warning. She wanted to yell into the phone, curse off anyone who would try and scare her away from everything she’d worked so hard for. But her nerves had been pushed to the edge, and no words were coming from her lips. 

The caller hung up before she could find the strength to reply. Her hunger faded instantly, taken over by a swell of bile rising in her gut. Her good feelings from just moments ago were gone. As she felt herself on the verge of puking, she dropped her phone on the counter, and ran for the bathroom so her empty stomach could purge itself. Once she had gotten up whatever had been left in her gut, she sat back on the cool tile, and rested her head against the wall. Y/N had no strength or will to move; the stranger’s words “...there could be consequences…” continued to repeat over and over in her head. 

Y/N never did get up to get back to the kitchen, and when Jensen returned home a short time later, that’s where he found her; half asleep with a tear streaked face sitting in the corner of the bathroom. He didn’t ask her any questions, but instead sat beside her and gathered her into his arms, leaving a soft kiss on the top of her head. 

“Whatever it is baby, I promise you, we’ll get through it,” he cooed in comfort as she felt herself melt into his side. Assuming it was stress and anxiety over the festival, he held her close there on the bathroom floor until it was time to leave for the airport. 

That’s when she knew for complete certainty, she wasn’t going to tell him about the call. She would NOT let anyone interfere with all they had worked towards; certainly not some piece of shit like Nathan, or a petty schemer like Dee. Y/N would never let either of them take anything from her, again.

Nathan

He watched as the snotty little redhead and her fancy ass Beamer pulled out of the diner parking lot. Nathan’s face remained stone-like as Dee’s gaze didn’t leave his until she had turned left and sped out of view. Nothing she had said to him gave him a second of pause; no reconsidering, no backing down. Nathan had reached the “couldn’t care less” portion of his actions months ago, and now all he could think about was how to enact the best possible revenge, on all of them. 

Getting lost in his thoughts, he stood motionless in the parking lot, absently watching the traffic pass him by. Austin had a ton of traffic, and people, making it easy for him to blend into his surroundings and stay unnoticed. He knew the cops were looking for him, so he did his best to stay off the radar. It wasn’t until an Austin City cop car slowly passed the diner, that his feet finally decided to move. He still had too much to do before he could put his last plan into place. 

Nathan pulled his hood back up, then shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets as he casually strolled down the busy Austin streets. He cut through a few alleyways, and popped out a few blocks away. Though he looked like a citizen going for a casual stroll, he knew just where he was going. It had taken a while to get the cash he needed, but snatching a few purses from some old ladies, and that one grab ‘n go hold up at the gas station finally gave him what he needed. His fingers felt around in his pockets for the wad of cash that was now bundled there, giving him an odd sense of security. 

None of his plans had worked out since landing back in Jersey last winter. He had tried being friendly and getting back into Y/N’s life the right way. He gave her space and time to realize her own mistakes, as well as hopefully accept and forgive his own. Nathan thought for sure that would bring them together, but instead, she just ran back to this new guy trying to forget all they had meant to each other since they were kids. Just thinking of it caused his heart to pound, and his fists to clench around the silky bundle of bills stashed in his pocket. That money was the key; it would get him what he needed to make one final convincing argument on his own behalf. If she didn’t see how they were meant to be after that, then he would have to go with Plan B.

Hours later, after he purchased the items he needed, he began to wander the streets, trying to clear his head some. As Nathan passed by a hulking skyscraper, he caught his reflection in the mirrored panels of the structure. He saw what a dirty mess he was and decided to head back to the abandoned warehouse outside of the city where most of Austin’s homeless settled in for the night. It was a risk since the cops liked to come in randomly and bust up the encampment, but one he was willing to take. There he could clean up some, find a change of clothes and try to look the part he needed to play for the next few days in order to win back Y/N, once and for all.

Nathan successfully bartered for a clean pair of jeans, an almost new shirt and one use of the make-shift shower. Once he was clean and newly clothed, he found a quiet corner where someone abandoned a sleeping bag, pillow and even a few packets of Ramen noodles. Being an expert at living on the street, Nathan found a way to make the food, then hunkered down onto the sleeping bag. As the soup cooled, he transferred the items from his old jeans to his new ones and then tossed them aside. He wouldn’t need them anymore, because after he talked to Y/N, they would be together, and she could buy him a whole new wardrobe. After all, she was working with the bigwigs now and he was certain she could afford it. 

Picking at the hot noodles, Nathan let himself reminisce on the days when he and Y/N were happy and carefree. Days on the beach, nights on the boardwalk, him and her hand-in-hand. Countless days spent out on her dad’s boat with her and her brother Dave, and just as many nights drinking under the boards, dreaming of what life was like far away from Seaside. Y/N dreamt of being a rock star or some dumb shit, but Nathan knew she wouldn’t have the guts to really leave their hometown. She was a born and bred local, and no real locals ever got too far away. When she actually left and went on to make a new life for herself, he felt betrayed. He felt abandoned and hurt that he wasn’t enough to keep her put. Now, as he sat on the rumpled sleeping back with a cup of steaming, tasteless noodles in hand, he let his free hand slip into the pocket of his jeans again. This time it wasn’t the bulk of cash giving him comfort, but the touch of the cool metal that lived in his pocket. 

“One way or another,” he mumbled, tossing the soup aside with disgust, “I will have my girl and my life back.”

Austin, Day Before Festival Kicks Off...

Thirty-six hours from the start of the festival, Jensen, Y/N, Briana, Robbie, Jared, Gen, Mama and about two hundred volunteers stuffed themselves into the theater where the Burlesque troop would be performing the following evening. The seven of them stood on the stage watching as swarms of people claimed a seat, all talking excitedly about the events that were to follow. Most of them were familiar faces to Jensen and Jared, having worked on the show with them for so long, but the ones they didn’t know, didn’t give them a second of pause or concern. They were all here to lend their time and services for free in an effort to do their part for the city. Every single person that walked through the doors of that theater had been background checked, and vetted through a private sponsor to ensure the safety of the festival goers, the bands, and especially those behind the scenes putting it all together. 

That was one thing Jensen had insisted on when the idea of community volunteers had first come up. It was well before he and Y/N had fallen in love and had run-ins with Nathan and Dee. He needed to be sure that everyone involved would be safe, and in turn the weekend could be a huge success. Two separate private security firms had been hired, with special attention focused on keeping Nathan out. Jensen didn’t think Dee would have the nerve to show her face, but he made sure that each member of the security team had Nathan’s photo and full description. 

Getting lost in his own thoughts as the stream of volunteers finally closed the vestibule doors, he barely noticed Robbie setting up a microphone and begin addressing the crowd. It wasn’t until Y/N casually made her way to his side and brushed against his shoulder, was he able to pull away from his own mind and come back to the present. 

“You okay there, Hollywood?” she whispered, casually glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “Big crowd here. You got stage fright all of a sudden or something?”

“Huh?” he asked, then quickly shook his head, “No, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“About?”

“All of this,” he said and snorted a laugh. “I mean, look at what you put together… all of these people are here because they believe in what you created--”

“What WE created. Jay,” Y/N grabbed Jensen’s hand, and despite two hundred pairs of eyes watching them, turned him towards her and kissed his lips. “I didn’t do this, you didn’t do this. Not Robbie, Bri, Mama… But ALL of us together.”

Before Jensen could respond, Robbie turned his attention towards them, holding out the microphone. When neither of them knew why, he raised his eyebrows then covered the top of the mic with his hand. 

“You wanna jump in on this pep talk, kids?”

Jensen cleared his throat and passed Robbie a sarcastic smile. “My pleasure.” He took the microphone in hand and before he could speak, the applause radiated towards him from the theater like a shock wave. He felt his heart surge at the entire crowd, much like it did every time he was on stage at a convention. The overwhelming love and gratitude was hard to miss when in this type of setting. 

“Thank you guys, really. Y’all are far too kind. It's us who should be applauding you! Because no matter how hard we have collectively worked to put this whole thing together, without you guys lending your time and efforts, it just wouldn’t be possible.”

Another surge of applause from the captivated audience caused Jensen to lower the mic and just enjoy the moment. 

“Seriously, from the bottom of all our hearts, we thank you for not only the love and support you’ve shown us from the get go, but for the love and dedication you are showing to the city of Austin. All the proceeds from ticket sales this weekend will be divided among various city organizations that work towards education enrichment programs, women’s shelters, soup kitchens, including a new music and arts program that will benefit children and teenagers from all across the city.”

Applause again, but this time even more deafening. The sea of faces before him were smiling ear to ear and cheering loudly. As Jensen moved his vision to the right in what felt like slow motion, he caught the wide grins of his closest friends who were sharing the stage with him, who were also clapping along with the crowd. 

Jensen brought the mic up to say more, but he was at a loss for word. The energy and vibe in the theater that night left him speechless, and it took all his will to not let himself shed a tear. Y/N could see his emotions building under the surface, and gently took the mic from his hand. He smiled at her thankfully for it, and took a step back as she proceeded to prepare herself to address the crowd.

“We can’t thank you all enough for the support, and love you brought with you here not only for tonight, but for this entire weekend. Now, we don’t want to take up too much of your time, so I am going to pass the mic over to Ms. Briana Buckmaster who has a few quick things to go over with you. After that, Mama June and I will be at each end of the theater exits handing out your official volunteer shirts for the weekend. One last thing before we get to the nitty gritty, while you are out there working hard to make sure our guests have fun, don’t forget to stop and enjoy the festival yourselves! We have done our best to make sure that all volunteers get plenty of breaks to go enjoy the food and music, as well as give each of you a free admission voucher to pass along to a family member, friend, or just someone you know who would enjoy the event but can’t afford to buy their own ticket. We want this to be an all-inclusive event. So have fun, work hard, and let’s make this something not only the city of Austin, but every other town and city represented here, will never forget!”

For the last time that night, the volunteers cheered and applauded the words of love and encouragement bestowed on them. Y/N passed the microphone to Bri, who’s smile lit up her dimples nearly as bright as the lights of the theater. Briana pulled Y/N into a big hug and held her tightly. Right before she let go, Bri squeezed her and whispered in her ear, “You’ve come a long way from that scared, nervous woman I met New Year’s Eve. I am so fucking proud of you!”

With that, Bri released her from the embrace, reset herself and turned to address the volunteers. Y/N took a step back to stand beside Jensen, and immediately felt his hand snake into hers. They watched on as Bri continued to captivate the audience with her distinct and charming way of explaining the processes and procedures for the weekend. Just as Bri wrapped up her part of the speech, Jensen and Y/N took a moment to meet each other’s gaze. Y/N had all but forgotten the call from the day before, and found herself feeling more confident than ever that everything they had worked so hard for would unfold without a hitch.

Tag List:

Everything:  @coffeebooksandfandom​ / @sorenmarie87​ / @yallgotkik​ / @thefaithfulwriter​ / @sister-winchesters99​ / @thymeheals​ / @keymology​ / @divadinag​

SPN RPF (Jensen): @screechingartisancashbailiff​ / @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ / @sandlee44​ / @wings-of-a-raven​ / @negans-wife​ / @kazosa​ / @deans-baby-momma​ / @teaspoin​ / @whiskeyandapplepie​ / @hobby27​ / @breereadsthings​ / @maddiepants​ / @adoptdontshoppets​ / @squirrelnotsam​ / @faughnphotography​ / @katehuntington​ / @his-paradox​ / @deansenwackles​ / @destielhoneybee​

When You Least Expect It:  @mrsjenniferwinchester​ / @vickyfarley​ / @winchest09​ / @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ / @aomi-nabi​ / @luciathewinchestergirl​ / @alexiswinchester​ / @seppys-return-to-madness / @donnaintx​ / @deans-baby-momma​ / @the-is13 / @stoneyggirl​ / @captaindorit0 / @fanfictionjunkie1112​ / @focusonspn​ / @deanwanddamons​ / @theebeee​ / @ultimatecin73​​ / @deanwinchesterswitch​​

Wanna get in on one of my tag lists? View the different Tag Lists, and send me an ask with which one you’d like to be on! Series Tags are on one sheet, Character tags on a second sheet.

[infernwetrust]

AHS 1984: Between The Lines [Xavier Plympton x Chet Clancy] 1. Watch Your Hands

PART 2

Summary: A world before the horror. A world with some horrors. A fantasy world, where things are slightly normal. A world where Chet Clancy has been in a relationship with his long term girlfriend, Brooke Thompson. A world where Xavier Plympton, struggles to find himself after a dark past. But what if I told you that's not all who Chet is romantically involved with? What if I told you there’s a little bit more to Xavier than what he presents himself to be? What if I told you to read between the lines? Together we'll explore friendship, love, deceit, and sexuality on a different level.

Rated: R for Restricted. 18+ Very Mature Themes.

Warnings: Alright folks, I’m going to be very honest with you. This book can get dark and depressing sometimes. Due to it’s unpredictable nature, since it is a work in progress, read at your own discretion, and apply tags as you see them fit. I will be giving warnings at the beginning of chapters that do take it to that level. If you do choose to read and you come across anything that makes you uncomfortable, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me. I am all ears.

A/N: Hey ya’ll! I go by Juno. Thank you so much for taking the time out of your Cody Fern and AHS filled schedules to read this book. This is something I’ve thought about for a long time and am very excited to be writing this. I’m also currently writing this on another platform, but decided that I wanted to share it with the fun loving Tumblr community as well.  It IS male x male. I’ve always shipped Chet (Gus Kenworthy) and Xavier (Cody Fern)  and after a little bit of brain storming, I decided that I wanted to dedicate a story to developing their relationship. I’ve kept some key traits from their characters in 84, but for the most part, this are figments of my imagination; of what life would be like. As I write this, I will be introducing different characters, portrayed by some of our favorites. I won’t leave you oblivious. However, I will also be writing one shots! If you have any requests, message me! Enjoy the read! 

WC: 1.1k

Setting the stage: This story begins years before 84. Xavier, Chet, Ray, Brooke, and Montana are 18 and freshly out of high school.

The two sat outside on the front steps. The moon lit up the night sky. Chet inhaled the joint deeply, but exhaled slowly. She watched him the whole time, biting down on her lip. They'd only been together for 6 months, but Brooke couldn't help but feel like she loved him. Sure. They exchanged the words,  'I love you' , all the time, but they never actually said "I love you." But, the more time Brooke spent with him, the more she realized that maybe she did mean it. They had been best friends for so long that I love you came naturally. So when the two drunkenly kissed at Montana's 17th birthday party, they both couldn't help, but feel that there was something there. So when Chet asked her out, how could she say no?

"Chet.." she said, softly. He took his eyes off the joint quickly to meet hers. There was a warm ness in his eyes that made every nerve in her body tingle. Her hand slowly made its way over to hold onto his knee.

"Yeah?" Chet questioned in his relatively, light, voice. He looked at Brooke with loving eyes. Eyes that still said "I love you" and "I love you" at the same time. Poor, Chet. He was so confused.

"Your eyes are so fucking red." she responded, giggling. Chet couldn't help but give her a smirk. He thought she was so cute. Everything she did was so cute to him.

"I guess I don't do a very good job of hiding it do I?" he questioned.

"Not like you need to. You're lucky. My parents would never let me do that openly."

"Well it's a good thing I don't give a fuck what my parents really have to say, huh?"

The two shared a hearty laugh before Brooke fell silent, biting her lips once again before taking the joint out of his hand and taking a pull.

"My parents would never let me do that openly." Chet repeated, mocking her.

"Well it's a good thing I don't give a fuck what my parents really have to say, huh?" she smirked.

"Brooke Thompson, you are a fool."

"I guess that's why we're so close"

"Closer than ever."

"Oh for Christ sake." Xavier said as he leaned over the fence. "If you're gonna fuck, just fuck already."

"How long have you been standing there?" Chet asked, taking his attention away from Brooke.  

"Long enough to see that you two would think nothing of fucking on the porch. Stand up, won't you, Chet?"

"Oh, fuck off."

Xavier grinned. He was a huge fan of messing with Chet, whether it be mentally... or physically.

"Sorry, lover boy."

"Thanks for the fucking help, Xavier." Ray said, jaw clenched as he held two relatively big speakers on shoulders.

"I'm pretty. I don't lift things. You know this."

"Yeah, except your dick to put in other people."

"Ooo." Chet said, loudly, his lips forming a perfect O.

"Play your cards right and you can be one of em'"

"Don't flatter yourself, pretty boy."

"Here man. I got you." Chet grabbed a speaker off of Ray's shoulder and assisting him instead.

"You're terrible." Brooke said, standing up, putting the joint out in the ground.

"You love me, Brooke Thompson." Xavier, winked at her.

They had only fucked twice, Brooke and Xavier. They were both 16.

"What's it like?" she asked, her hands holding onto his jacket as he leaned against the balcony rail.

"What? Sex?"  he asked, looking down at her. At 16, he was already so tall and that amazed her. She nodded her head at his question, swallowing. "I've never done it before and it's all you and Chet talk about. All the girls you've slept with."

"Let me guess. You don't masturbate either, do you?"

"Just answer the question, smart ass." She slapped him in his chest.  

"I don't really know how to explain it." He spun her around so that it was now her who was up against the rail. "Why don't you let me show you instead?" When she constantly switched between looking at his eyes and his lips, he knew he had her. "I see how you look at me, oh and Chet, but that's another discussion. Let me show you how fun it is when you start exploring, sexually." God, Xavier was a sex icon. Everything about him just screamed fuck me or let me fuck you. She made the mistake of getting locked in his eyes.

And then he did the thing. The thing that got everyone who he pursued sexually, to crack. His tongue moved gracefully along his upper pearly whites with a sadistic grin, that in actuality, wasn't all that sadistic. He liked Brooke and if he didn't already know that she had a deep interest for Chet, brewing, she would be his.

"Go on." he said, tempting her. "Kiss me. You love me, Brooke Thompson."

"But let's leave things in the past, yeah?" Xavier continued, attempting to walk past Brooke and into Chet's home. She stepped in front of him, firmly planting her finger on his chest.

"You said you wouldn't ever bring that up, especially since you knew Montana had a crush on you." Brooke said with venom in her voice.

"Woah. Ms. Thompson, please if you will, watch your hands." He grabbed her by her wrist. "So quick to react are we? Let's not forget." He slowly rubbed her finger across his chest and down to his torso, right above his belt. She looked up at him and he did the thing, again. The same thing that had gotten her to kiss him that night. But this time, he was older, his features more strongly defined. He was gorgeous and she couldn't deny that.

"Stop that." she said, firmly, snatching her wrist away from. "You promised, Xavier."

"Oh relax. No one was around to hear it."

"Are you two coming inside?" Chet asked, popping his head into the door frame. "Montana will be here in a few minutes and then we can start our Friday night."

"Yeah, babe." she replied. "I was just bugging Xavi about how lazy he is." She winked at her charming boyfriend who now leaned fully against the doorway.

"I believe the correct term you're looking for is pretty." She turned to him quickly, planting her finger firmly in his chest once again.

"Remember what I told you."

"Well come on then, so I can close the door." Xavier let out that stupid grin again before the two started walking towards the door.

Let the summer before college begin.