#also this is unbetaed and it’s late sorry for any mistake

[startanewdream]

~*~*~*~ex~*~*~*~*

(A Hinny Micro-oops for @ginnystrophyhusband) - DH Missing Moment

As far as Dean is concerned, Shell Cottage is a five-star hotel that he doesn't want to ever leave.

Once he'd thought inconceivable the idea of living in a place with not just one but two of Ginny's brothers, but things are surprisingly okay; no one comments anything. Ron barely looks at him, though it doesn't seem like a remaining hostility; he is always occupied with Hermione and Harry, that trio even more secretive than before. Bill Weasley is a cool guy — Dean can understand why Ginny always spoke highly of him — but they don't interact much. These days, Dean is usually in Luna's company; she is surprisingly entertaining once he learns to disregard a few comments. He can see why Ginny appreciates her so much.

Not that Ginny was a concern that had been on his mind lately — fighting for his survival really put in perspective being dumped by the girl you fancied — but the days on Shell Cottage are lazy, and he's constantly reminded of Ginny. Her brothers. Her best friend. Her boyfriend.

Harry spares him little attention, which doesn't surprise Dean; what does surprise Dean is that Harry not once sneaks away with Bill to meet Ginny. Harry always pauses whatever he's discussing with Ron and Hermione when Bill comes back from visiting his great-aunt or something, and listens to the news—but he doesn't talk about Ginny.

Which is weird. And Dean cannot help but think that he would ask about Ginny. He would risk his safety to visit his girlfriend—the girl he knows has been in trouble at Hogwarts. Luna doesn’t share much, but he knows that life at Hogwarts was just one step better than what Dean had faced on the run.

It's on a late afternoon, when he's helping with the dishes, and Fleur is looking out the window tensely as she waits for her husband's return, that he voices it out loud.

"Did Harry go with Bill?"

Fleur blinks, distracted. It's strange to remember how he once fawned over her, but now, after she tended over him, she looks so... human.

"No. Harry is outside." She indicates another window, the one with the view to the beach. Dean knows what she means; everyone has noticed how Harry isolates himself sometimes, watching the sunset on the cliffs.

"I thought he might want to go. Check on his girlfriend and all."

Fleur frows, confusion distorting her beautiful expression; then someone grabs the plates from Dean's hand.

"They've broken up," Luna tells him, and she sounds strangely reproachful. "Ginny doesn't like to talk about it."

Now Fleur's expression softens, as if she understands far more than Dean could ever; she was a Triwizard champion once, Dean remembers. She is smart.

But Dean is not, so he finds himself leaving through the backyard door and standing on the path that leads to the cliffs, though he doesn't go there. It's silly but he cannot stop feeling as if the cliffs belong to Harry. It's where he goes to think whatever thoughts that had been on his mind.

And then, as if he can feel Dean’s stare, though he is so far that he cannot even see Dean, Harry turns and stands up. There’s a faraway expression on his face that doesn’t change once he is closer and raises a hand in quiet greeting.

As he once did, Dean cannot help but size himself up against Harry. Harry was on the run as well, so he looks thin, gaunt; it should be shocking, but Dean has seen worse in the past months. Nothing impressive. One would think that being the Chosen One, Harry would be slicing You-Know-Who piece by piece by now.

“Is Bill back yet?” Harry asks when he joins Dean on the path.

“No.” Something clouds Harry’s eyes, a deep fear that he tries to hide by looking to the ocean. A weird sense of compassion floods Dean. “But it's still early. I’m sure everything is okay.”

Empty words, but Harry doesn’t comment upon it. He gives Dean a quick smile that doesn’t reach his eyes before turning back to watch the ocean below; the sun is almost down now, the last stripes of red tinting the clouds in the sky. Orangish red. The colour of Ginny’s hair—the same colour that she shares with her brothers, but somehow, watching the sky, Dean cannot think about any other Weasley at the moment.

He wonders if that’s what attracts Harry in the sunset so much—the remembrance of someone he has no right to miss anymore.

“Hum,” he mumbles, and a mirthless chuckle escapes his lips. Harry turns to him questioningly now. “Nothing, I just—I just realised we are both Ginny’s exes.”

It doesn’t sound funny at all. Harry grimaces, quiet, and Dean tries to diffuse the situation.

“I mean, if we call Michael Corner, we can start a support group for guys dumped by Ginny Weasley.”

Still not funny, but now Harry looks down, a flash of guilt on his face. Ginny doesn’t like to talk about it, Luna had told Dean.

Realisation hits him. “You dumped her?”

Harry crosses his arm, meeting Dean’s gaze unflinchingly now. “I did not dump her, we just broke up.”

“But you were perfectly happy together!” It doesn’t make sense. Sure, Dean might say that once he had been perfectly happy with Ginny, but it lasted months until things got sour. Whereas Harry and Ginny… “You went out for, what, two months?”

“Fifty-one days,” Harry answers at once, and Dean has a sudden vision of him marking sticks on a wall as if he doesn’t ever want to lose track of time, wants to experience each moment. It had been annoying, it had hurt, but Dean knew that Harry and Ginny were a thing; he had never seen them so bright before.

If Dean had that with anyone, he knows that he would never let go.

“Why?”

Harry turns to him with the look of a man that lived a thousand lives. “What could I possibly offer to her?”

It sounds cheesy, but Dean says anyway. “Your love?” Harry’s eyes widen. “You do love her, right?”

A myriad of emotions shine on Harry’s face before he fixes his stare on the ocean, now dark below them. Whatever Harry feels, he doesn't want to share.

“I want her to be safe. Even if it means—”

He doesn't finish it, but Dean can hear it anyway. Even if it means she stays with someone else. Someone like Dean.

And for a moment Dean sees it. A future without Harry in which he could be with Ginny; something stable. He could comfort her and be there once she would be ready to fall in love again.

Then guilt hits him harder than the waves break against the cliff. Harry is here talking about how he wants Ginny to be safe above all, not making plans over her dead lover. 

Maybe there is a reason Harry is the hero of the story, and Dean is just a guy who happens to be the ex-boyfriend of the hero's girlfriend.

“Shut it,” he says then. Once in a while in the stories, the hero needs advice. “This is Ginny Weasley we are talking about. That girl could defeat You-Know-Who himself if he wasn’t so smart to avoid her.”

Now his joke hits the right spot. Harry chuckles, the sound fresh in the night, and for a moment Dean sees the shadow of the joyful guy who walked hand-in-hand with Dean's ex-girlfriend.

It still hurts, but it also feels bearable. Maybe after this is over, Dean can find the story in which he is more than a footnote.

 “Luna can charm the radio like no one, she finds the most interesting tunes,” he notes. “Come inside, we can wait in the living room until Bill returns.”

Until they know that Ginny is safe, Dean means.

Harry nods, and Dean knows he understood; once it would be strange to share this connection with Harry, but now, like everything else, the forebonding sense of doom seems to diminish the awkwardness.

“I'd like that," Harry says, and they turn to enter the cottage.

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 12 first part

honestly im not even gonna say when the chapter is gonna be ready anymore...it'll be done when it's done...

anyways here's the first part. It's unbetaed but hopefully it compels/entertains you in some way as I finish the chapter up

“My dear Iudex, are my eyes deceiving me, or is that a smile on your face?”

Neuvillette raised his gaze from the documents spread out before him. Furina was standing on the other side of his desk. Of course, he had heard her enter his office before she even spoke, but he was so used to her unannounced intrusions these days that he treated it as a part of his daily routine now. I only hope that she makes this quick. I have a rather heavy agenda today, and I would like to return home before dark.

Furina leaned over his desk, her heterochromatic eyes eagerly scanning the desk for some sort of incriminating evidence to grab onto. Of course, she found none. Neuvillette wasn’t so foolish that he would make such a careless mistake.

“Hmph, I didn’t know that paperwork could inspire such a joyous expression on one’s face. What a contrast you make with the Gestionnaires outside your door! You really must get out more.”

“Indeed, I have, thanks to your urging. I believe you’ve already read the note I left you.”

“Ah, yes, that sorry excuse for a note,” Furina sniffed. “‘Will be away for a day due to personal reasons.’ No mention of where you’re going or who you’ll be with.”

“I see no reason why I should have included either of those things. I followed all the necessary protocol for requesting leave, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Oh, I am. But Neuvillette, aren’t you getting tired of constantly having to avoid my questions and fend me off every single day? You know exactly what I want, why won’t you give it to me? Are you truly intending to keep doing this forever?”

“And you know very well that I will not change my position on this matter. There is no need for you to get involved in my marriage, nor do you have the right.”

Furina and Neuvillette glared at each other silently for a while. Throughout this week, she had constantly needled, badgered, and pestered him in an attempt to fish for any information about his day off, but he remained an immovable stone wall. He knew that revealing anything to her would only pour fuel on the fire, so to speak. Knowing her nature, he doubted she would let this go any time soon, but he could at least not give her any openings to pounce onto.

“No right to get involved in your marriage, huh,” Furina repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t forget that you have me to thank for it. Would you have ever even considered marrying this woman if it weren’t for me?”

Neuvillette did not say anything. They both knew the answer to that question.

“Even so, I do not owe you anything,” he said with a firm tone that signaled the end of their talk. “Now then, Furina, allow me to get back to my work.”

“Fine,” Furina said with a toss of her head. “It looks like I’ll be visiting you again tomorrow.”

“Please do so during my coffee break.”

Furina spun on her heel and was about to stride away when she suddenly turned around again. “You know, Neuvillette, I just don’t understand why you won’t let me meet the person who clearly brought you so much joy.”

Neuvillette narrowed his eyes at her. “I believe we were done here?”

Furina put her hand to her heart and made an expression of exaggerated joy. “How heartless! I do hope your wife never sees this side of you.”

He watched her until she left his office and the doors closed behind her. Letting out a heavy sigh, his gaze drifted to the misty painting hanging at the side of his office, almost by instinct. This was also something that had also become a daily routine for him.

He wondered what the painter was doing now. Around this time, you were sure to be in the garden, devoting all your attention to the sunflowers.

Were you waiting for him to come home? He hoped you weren’t. It looked like he would be returning late today. Well, to be honest, he usually returned home late at night, but now with you as his wife, it would be terribly uncouth of him as your husband to come home too late. In addition, he found that his willingness to work into the late hours had decreased considerably. Still, there were times when he truly had no other choice.  

But, there was a small part of him that would very much like it if you did wait for him.

Neuvillette did not know what to make of this new development in his feelings. He examined it, turning it over in his head as one would do with a particularly interesting-looking rock or seashell, then put it away for later. He needed to concentrate on getting through the stack of paperwork on his desk if he wanted to leave work earlier.

But before that…

His hand moved to his desk drawer, which contained a recently-delivered envelope. It was a stroke of good fortune that it had been delivered before Furina’s visit. He’d never hear the end of that if she saw its contents.

He opened the envelope and took out a stack of newly-developed photos. He flipped through them until he reached the photo of a young woman standing stiffly in front of an azure-blue willow tree. His finger idly stroked the edge of the picture. The colors were so vivid and crisp that he felt as though he could reach into the photo and touch the ribbon of your hat or the soft fabric of your sleeve.

It was strange. You were not a particularly cheerful or spirited person, but when he was with you, his heart felt lighter, freer. Not to the extent of forgetting himself or his responsibilities, of course, but… Was this what Furina meant by the “joys of matrimony”?

He couldn’t say he disliked it.

He carefully put the photos back in the envelope. What sort of face would you make when he showed them to you? Or when he showed you the other surprise he had for you? Would you smile at him once again? Would you take his hand in yours? A feeling of anticipation filled his heart. Unconsciously, his fingers brushed against his cheek.

The sunflowers were coming along nicely. They now reached the height of your hip and formed small, tightly closed buds. There were no yellow petals peeking through yet, but you were confident that they would appear in the coming weeks.

You brushed your fingers against the leaves. They were the size of your palm now. You could see little bug bites dotting them. Perhaps you should ask Marie if there were any pesticides on hand.

It was evening now, though the sun was still in the sky. Neuvillette should be back by now. Maybe he had a lot of work today? You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. You had been looking forward to showing him the buds. Was Furina pestering him again?

It had been a week since the date. Neuvillette had sent the photos out to be developed, and you would be getting them today. You were a bit excited to see them.  I don’t think I’ve ever taken so many pictures in my life.

After you finished taking the last measurements, you returned to the house and went up to your room. Your eyes automatically went to the plump azure flower tucked into a vase on your desk. It brought a vibrant splash of color to your elegant but sparse room, and you liked looking at it. It gave you a sense of pleasure. You wondered where Neuvillette put his flower.

I wonder if it will deflate like a balloon if I stuck a pin into the middle, you thought as you sniffed the flower’s cool fragrance. That would make it easier to press, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps it was because you talked about pressing flowers on the date, but it had been on your mind lately. Your fingers itched for your old flower press, sitting in your closet back home. The lily would look striking against a white page. If only you picked some of those wildflowers you had seen on Erinnyes and in Merusea Village... they could serve as accompaniment to the lily, which would obviously be the centerpiece, and a strand of blue leaves from the Weeping Willow could be the finishing touch, forming a wreath that framed everything neatly. It would be a beautiful memento of one of the most beautiful days in your life.

It was strange. Even though your days went on like usual after the date, you felt a little different. A little lighter. Reinvigorated, if you had to describe it in a single word. Your childhood hobbies, which you once considered frivolous and backwards, beckoned to you once more.

For a long time now, you felt like you were barely holding yourself up by the sheer force of will, like a sunflower with shallow roots and a too-heavy head, in need of a support to stand tall and erect. Well, now you did have one.

I guess this is what marriage all about. Two people supporting each other for life. Although, it is rather one-sided in our case.

You bit your lip. It was irrational, you knew. Neuvillette was the powerful and respected Iudex, while you were an impoverished baron’s daughter from the countryside. Your presence in his house was proof of just how much more you relied on him than the other way around. You knew that Neuvillette didn’t expect anything from you, which only made you even more determined to do something for him.

You despised the feeling of owing someone. You hated having to completely depend on someone. That was one of the many reasons why you chose your career path.

But more than that…

Neuvillette’s distraught face flashed through your mind. Though you only saw it once, you never wanted to see that look on his face again.

Neuvillette finally returned home by the time the sky was dark. You had already eaten dinner without him and was reading in the parlor when you heard the front door open.

“Neuvillette,” you called out to him as you went into the foyer. “You came home so late. Did something happen?”

As you approached him, you thought that he looked a bit fatigued, but the tiredness in his face seemed to vanish as he fixed his eyes on you.

“Madame,” he greeted you. “My apologies for worrying you. I had a rather busy agenda today. I hope you’ve already eaten dinner?”

“I have. But have you eaten as well? If not, I can warm up the leftovers for you, or I can ask Marie to cook something fresh if that’s what you prefer.”

“No need for that. I’ve already eaten. But there is something else I want to talk about,” Neuvillette paused. It took you a moment to realize that he was doing it for dramatic effect. So even he has that side to him...how cute, you thought, trying to hide your smile. “I was able to receive the developed photos today.”

He took out an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to you. “They turned out quite well, I must say,” he added.

The envelope was thick and heavy. You must have taken more than a hundred photos.

You decided to look through them in the parlor. Neuvillette followed you, and the two of you sat side by side on the couch as you spread the photos out on the coffee table. Neuvillette was right, they did turn out well. You had been a bit worried that they might come out blurry or at odd angles, but overall, they all looked pretty good, considering the fact that you hadn’t used a Kamera in a long time.

“You have a very good eye for photography, Madame,” Neuvillette remarked as he picked up a photo of the Weeping Willow. “Have you considered pursuing a career in that field?”

“Oh, not at all. My old drawing teacher was much better at it than me, enough to make a living out of it, and she taught me a few tricks.”

“‘Was’? Do you mean...” Neuvillette trailed off.

“Yes. It was a few years ago.”

“Ah...I see. I'm sorry to hear that.”

There was a brief, awkward silence. Neuvillette looked as though he wanted to say something more. You would rather not deal with that, so your eyes roamed around the scattered photos on the table before they landed on something silver. “Oh, my pictures of you!” you said, leaning forward to grab them. “See, what did I tell you, Neuvillette. There’s nothing more picturesque than beautiful scenery and a handsome man.”

Neuvillette leaned closer towards you to examine the photos for himself. His hair brushed against your shoulder, and you could feel the heat of his body against your arm.  A thought suddenly struck you. If you turned your head right now, your lips would brush against his cheek in the same spot where you had kissed it before.

Inexplicably, your face turned warm at the thought. The back of your hand tingled.

Perhaps things didn’t quite remain the same after the date.

It truly had been a spur of the moment move. Your roiling emotions, aided by the instigation of the Melusines, had pushed you to do it.

Later that night, as you laid in bed, your mind replaying that scene over and over to an infuriating degree, you had rifled through all the emotions you had felt at that time. Embarrassment, disbelief, a strange sort of elation…

But the one emotion that had been missing no matter how hard you searched for it, was regret.

Overt acts of affection had never been your forte, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

Well, cheek kisses don’t inherently mean anything significant, you had told yourself. Friends do it with each other all the time. And Neuvillette is my friend. A very dear friend. So it’s perfectly fine. Case closed.

Indeed, Neuvillette didn’t seem to look at you or treat you any differently after the fact, so why should you? No doubt he was used to receiving such acts of intimacy—most likely even more intimate—from people who were far more glamorous than you. A brief brush of lips against his cheek probably meant nothing to him.

As for the hand kiss, well, that was something that gentlemen like him did. It also didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

The thought that these kisses were all meaningless did sting a little bit, but considering the circumstances, you had no right to complain.

“I must confess that I do not see what makes these pictures any better than the ones you took of the scenery,” Neuvillette’s voice interrupted your thoughts. His eyes were fixed on the photo, so thankfully he didn’t notice your reddened cheeks. “Or of the Melusines, for that matter.”

“Well, even if you don’t appreciate them, I do. I’ll treat them like a family treasure.”

“A family treasure? That’s a bit excessive, is it not?”

“I don’t think so. These are pretty rare items, aren’t they?”

Since Neuvillette didn’t appear in public much, there were not many pictures of him outside of the rare interview and official events. Hmm, I wonder how much they’ll sell for? Not that I would ever do that, of course. …Well, maybe if I’m in dire financial straits. I’ll ask for Neuvillette’s permission beforehand if it ever comes to that.

You went through the remaining photos. Each one sparked a memory. The Weeping Willow, the sea, Merusea Village underwater—you really had been to all of those places. With Neuvillette, no less. The entirety of that day was only known to the two of you.

The days after your date had been so mundane and normal that you were half-convinced that it had all been a strange dream. Thoughts and memories were such mutable things, after all. Someone like you on a date with the Chief Justice? Not even in your wildest delusions would something like that ever happen. But these pictures were proof that it did.

You knew that you would probably think back on that day for the rest of your life, holding it close to your chest like a treasured gemstone and taking it out whenever times got tough. A sparkling memory of your youth that you would smile back fondly upon in your autumn years, a lone glimmering star in the dark that would inspire you move forward…

Wait, why am I getting so sappy and sentimental? Just because of a date? Ugh, come on now.

You glanced at Neuvillette, who was currently enjoying a glass of water (imported from Inazuma). You doubted that he felt the same way as you about the date. It was probably just like a drop of water in a vast ocean to him.

That thought pricked at you, but you chose to ignore it.

You sifted through the pictures until you came across a certain snapshot. Just as you were about to flip it over, a gloved finger pressed down against the photo, stopping you.

“This one is my favorite,” Neuvillette said. Once again, his face was right next to yours, but you couldn’t read his expression.

“Because you were the one who took it?”

“No,” he said, then turned his head towards you. “Because it’s of you.”

“Neuvillette…” you said after a short silence. You fidgeted with your reddened fingertips. “I don’t understand how you can say things like that with such a straight face.”

“Is it truly so strange?” Neuvillette looked perplexed. “I was simply saying my true feelings. And it is not as though you have refrained from such comments either.”

“You do have a point,” you conceded, although that still didn’t mean it didn’t catch you off guard. You turned your attention back to the photo of you. To be honest, it didn’t turn out half bad. Sure, you looked incredibly stiff and awkward and your hair was a mess and you had no idea what you were thinking when you matched that sweater with that skirt, but…it could have turned out worse.

“May I keep this photo?” Neuvillette asked.

“Of course, but what will you do with it? Surely you aren’t going to put it on your office desk or anything, right?”

“No, of course not. I would put it in a drawer, so I may take it out and look at it whenever I like.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Is it so wrong for a husband to want to look at a picture of his wife every once in a while? Many of the Palais staff also keep pictures of their loved ones on their desks. Why shouldn’t I?” Neuvillette paused for a little bit before adding, “And it would be one way for me to see your face more often, considering how I don’t get many chances of that during the day.”

“Hmm…very well, then,” you didn’t quite get why he would want to see more of your face, but if it made him happy, then you supposed there was nothing to complain about. Neuvillette is actually quite good at this kind of thing, you thought to yourself. Just imagine what it would be like when he gets married to someone he loves.

Now you really felt bad about your (hypothetical) future plans about selling Neuvillette’s photos. I’m an insensitive boor compared to him.

You reached the last of the photos. It was the one of you and Neuvillette standing in front of the sunset.

“You made two copies for the both of us,” you said as you looked at them. “How thoughtful.”

As you gazed at the pictures, you couldn’t help but feel a complex mixture of emotions. There was a surrealness to this photo that the others lacked. If this were a novel, this would be the point where you would wake up and return to reality after discovering something out of place in your life. No matter how you looked at it, you and Neuvillette were mismatched. Two people who were only brought together because of a weird quirk of fate.

But on the other hand…it was a beautiful photo. You had been somewhat worried that the two of you wouldn’t be centered in the frame, but it turned out well. The sunset made for a lovely backdrop. Even though both of you were looking very stiff, and neither of you were smiling.

You remembered that moment clearly. In those few minutes, you felt as light as a feather, like there was nothing tying you to the ground.

Would you ever feel that way again?

“I’m also very fond of this one,” Neuvillette said next to you. When you turned your head, you saw that he was not looking at the photos, but at you. It was then that you realized you were smiling. For some reason, you turned your head away.

“I just realized something,” you said, to cover up the awkward moment. “I’ve taken so many pictures, but I’ve got nowhere to put them all.”

“Ah, about that,” there was an excitement, subdued but present, in his voice. He sounded the same as he did when he introduced you to some new exotic variety of water. “I have a surprise for you. Please, come with me to my study.”

A surprise from Neuvillette? You had an inkling as to what it could be, but that didn’t stop you from putting all the photos back in the envelope and following him upstairs to his study, a domain you had yet to step into. It was a smaller version of his office at the Palais Mermonia, with its large desk, soft rugs, and tall bookshelves that lined the walls. There was also a fireplace here and a cozy-looking couch.

As Neuvillette went to take something out of a cabinet, you covertly examined the shelves. They were mainly filled with books on law, human psychology, history (most of which you’ve already read, having borrowed them from the library), and other similarly serious topics. Oddly enough, you spotted a few children’s picture books. Gifts from the Melusines? Or for entertaining them whenever they visit?

“Madame, here it is,” Neuvillette said, and you walked over to the desk, where there was a large, leather-bound album with metal corners.

“Oh, Neuvillette, you shouldn’t have!” you exclaimed, flipping through the album. There should be just enough space to put all the pictures from your date in it. You looked up to thank him, but was met with the sight of Neuvillette taking out yet another album from the cabinet. This one was wider, with a ribbon tied into a neat bow on the spine. Perhaps Neuvillette bought a second album, just in case the first one wouldn’t fit all of your pictures?

But, as though to dash all reasonable explanations, Neuvillette took out another album from the cabinet, then another. It seemed never-ending, this deluge of albums. After a while, it became sort of funny, like a comedy sketch. You watched, open-mouthed, as the desk became covered with albums of all shapes and sizes.

Finally, after the tenth one, the deluge stopped. Neuvillette looked at you expectantly. “Well, Madame, which one do you prefer?”

“Wait a minute, let me get this right,” you said, backing up a step and surveying the desk. “You bought all these albums just for me to choose one?”

“Yes, I did,” Neuvillette said, nodding as though this was a perfectly normal thing to do. Was this how the minds of the wealthy worked? It was beyond your comprehension. “I was unsure which one would be most to your liking, so I decided to buy them all.”

“Oh, Neuvillette, you really shouldn’t have…” you said. “This is too excessive. Why didn’t you ask me to come with you when you went shopping? And you know I’d like anything you picked out for me.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise…” Neuvillette said. He looked a bit deflated, and you felt bad.

“Can you return them?”

“It would be highly inconvenient for the shopkeeper if I did so,” Neuvillette said, then added in an abashed tone, “And I was told that all sales are final.”

“How unfortunate,” you looked down at the desk again. Was it possible for anyone to fill up all these albums in their lifetime? Maybe if they had a lifespan as long as Neuvillette’s. “Maybe they could make an exception for the Iudex?”

“I would rather not use my position in such a manner.”

“Well then, how about we give them away?”

“Give them away…” Neuvillette considered your words. “I-I suppose that could work… it is a reasonable idea. Yes, quite reasonable indeed.”

Neuvillette…if only you could see the look on your face right now. He looked like a kicked puppy. However, you decided to hold your tongue.

“Hmm, on second thought, it would be quite rude of me to give away presents from my generous husband,” you said. “I’ll keep them all. Thank you, Neuvillette.”

You patted his hand. He looked down at your hand on top of his, his eyes unreadable. He lightly brushed his fingers against your own.

“You need not force yourself to accept them if you do not want them,” he said quietly.

“But I do want them. They’re from you, after all. We’ll just have to take plenty more photos to get your money’s worth.”

“‘We?’”

“Yes, ‘we.’ Did you expect me to fill up these albums all on my own?”

“Certainly, it would be more efficient if we worked together,” Neuvillette nodded to himself. “Very well, then, Madame. I will assist you in this endeavour.”

With that settled, you decided to put the date photos in the first brown leather album. It had a vintage look to it that you liked.

“It’s getting late, Madame. You should be going to bed soon,” Neuvillette informed you.

“What about you?” Neuvillette didn’t seem to be making any moves to retire for the night just yet.

“There are a few more matters that I need to take care of, but do not worry, it won’t take very long.”

“Okay then,” you nodded, stepping towards the door. But just as you were about to leave the study, a thought suddenly struck you. “Oh, by the way, Neuvillette.”

“Yes, Madame?”

“Has Lady Furina been bothering you about…about me lately?”

Neuvillette blinked. He was silent for a moment before speaking. “She has. But it’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m quite used to handling her.”

“But…”

“There is no need to worry, Madame. She will never need to know about you,” Neuvillette’s tone was firm. “I will do my utmost to make sure it stays that way.”

“…Alright,” you said, but it wasn’t relief that flooded your heart. “Good night, Neuvillette.”

“Good night, Madame.”

You closed the study door quietly behind you.

[storiesofaot]

(if you're still up for requests) I was wondering if you could write either an erurihan tea party flashback, or smth about Hange watching Levi living on after the rumbling from the Paths.

Dear anon, I am sorry it has been almost 10 days, but I finally managed to write your request! I went for the “Hange watching over Levi” one, since I don’t really write Erurihan, I hope that’s fine 😊 This was written in one sitting very late at night, so I really hope it’s okay (and yes, it’s kind of unbetaed, I’m sorry for all the mistakes)! I did cry a little writing it, I have to admit, because it breaks my heart when those two are separated and are longing to be together (or maybe I was just very tired lol) 😢 Theoretically, it could be read as a prequel to this little fic, but of course it can also stand alone. Enjoy! ✨

Rating: G; Word Count: 1640

Title: I’m Watching Over You, Always.

“Keep watching us.” Levi had spoken those words in the very moment her body had perished and her soul had risen up, but when Hange woke up again and opened her eyes, she could hear Levi’s voice in her head. 

“Where’s the flying boat?” she exclaimed, his voice still ringing in her ears and feeling so real that the blood rushed through her veins. But then she heard Erwin’s voice, and she immediately knew she was in another place. It was her dear Moblit who helped her up, gently squeezing her fingers as she started to ramble on.

“There’s time now. We can talk about it,” Erwin said, reassuringly putting an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to where the rest of her fallen comrades were standing, all dressed in their scout uniforms. But even though she knew everything had happened the way it was supposed to happen, the painful yearning for Levi remained. 

A few hours later, for there wasn’t such a thing as day and night in that otherworldly place she was, she finally had the chance to talk to Erwin alone. “I was wondering, is there any chance we can … see the people on earth?” she asked carefully, mentally preparing for a negative response. But to her surprise, Erwin nodded.

“Good that you’re asking. Yes, there is a possibility, but it’s probably not what you were hoping for.” Hange’s eyes widened, and Erwin took it as his cue to continue. “Theoretically, you can see everyone who is still alive from here. You can’t talk to them, can’t interact with them, and it doesn’t always work. But there is a way you can, in a sense, watch over them from here.”

Watch over us. She could clearly hear Levi’s voice in her head again, and she felt how her chest tightened painfully at the remembrance. “Please, Erwin, tell me about it,” she urged him on, and the tall man smiled. 

“It doesn’t work with everyone; the deeper the bond between you was during your life, the better the chances. That means, it is unlikely to be able to see people you roughly knew, but it’s more likely if it’s a family member, or let’s say, a loved one.” He paused for a moment, and Hange swallowed hard. Levi and her hadn’t exactly been ‘loved ones’, and she had never had the chance to ask him what exactly their relationship had been. But she had always hoped that the special bond she had felt between them meant that he liked her, if not as a lover, then at least as a friend. Though it was clear to her that what she felt for that man was so much more than just friendship. 

“The process itself isn’t really that difficult. You just have to close your eyes and concentrate on them and on the feeling you had when you were around them, and if your bond is strong enough, you’ll be able to see them. The first few times you may struggle, so don’t give up too quickly. Because the more you try, the longer and quicker it works the following times.”

Erwin had been right: the first time she tried, nothing happened. She had retreated to a calm place, where no one would disturb her, and she had really, really given her best - but it didn’t work. After sitting there for hours, she had been about to give up - maybe her bond with Levi just hadn’t been strong enough? But then, out of the blue, a picture appeared before her inner eye. It wasn’t very sharp, a little blurry, and yet she could immediately recognize that it was him.

Levi was sitting in a wheelchair, slumped and a little pale, his characteristic frown between his brows - but the familiarity was so overwhelming that it almost hurt. He was being pushed by Onyankopon who was currently saying something to him. The building behind them looked like a hospital, and Hange assumed that he was just being discharged. Levi nodded, pointed at something, and said something in return. But then, the picture went black.

The next time Hange tried, she succeeded much more quickly. Perhaps it was because she was confident that their bond was strong enough for it to work, and that thought motivated her. Now, Levi sat at his desk with a pen in hand and a few blank sheets of paper in front of him. He seemed troubled, continually running his hand through his hair, tousling it slightly before attempting to smooth it down again, only to mess it up once more. Finally, he began to write.

She was curious about what he was writing, but felt hesitant to intrude, so she focused instead on his body language. It was clear that whatever he was writing was causing him a lot of distress. His lips were pressed tightly together, forming a thin line, and he was tapping his free hand against the tabletop. Over the next half hour, she watched him crumple and toss aside numerous sheets of paper, and with each discarded attempt, his frustration became more evident. Oh, how she wished she could say something - anything - to ease his pain. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Levi,” she whispered, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her.

To her surprise, he suddenly looked up as if he had heard her. Hange held her breath and kept watching him. It seemed a thought had struck him because, after a moment, he dipped his pen back into the ink bottle and made another attempt. This time, his hand flew across the page, and in less than five minutes, he had filled it with his handwriting. He quickly reached for another sheet and continued to scribble down more and more words. Soon, he was finished, and after ensuring the ink had dried, he folded the sheets together and shoved them into an envelope.

Her next encounter with Levi came not long after, and this time they found themselves outside. In the distance, she could see a few young people walking away from what she now realized was a cemetery. If she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she spotted Armin and Connie among them, though she wasn’t entirely sure. Her attention returned to Levi, who was sitting in his wheelchair right in front of a gravestone, with Onyankopon standing a little further away. For a long time, nothing happened as she simply observed Levi, who was gazing wistfully at the grave adorned with fresh flowers.

Then, she saw how he pushed himself out of the wheelchair with his hands and dropped roughly to his knees right in front of the gravestone. Onyankopon looked as if he were about to rush over to help, but Levi quickly waved him off. “No, no, I’m fine, don’t worry.”

His fingers gently traced the beautifully sculpted stone, feeling every edge and curve, and only then did Hange notice that her name was engraved on it. The mix of sorrow and tenderness in his gaze surprised her, and she felt a lump rising in her throat. She instinctively reached out her arm, but of course, she couldn’t touch him, even though she wished she could at that moment.

Levi reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a letter that looked strangely familiar to her: it was the same letter he had written not long ago. For a while, Levi silently studied the piece of paper in his hands, running his fingers over the edge where he had sealed it. Then he brought it to his lips, and in the most tender gesture she had ever seen from him, he gently pressed a kiss to its front.

Hange’s breath caught in her throat, and tears welled up in her eyes as she imagined his lips pressing against her forehead instead. His gesture was so incredibly tender that her heart swelled from such devotion, and she could hardly believe it was truly meant for her.

“Hange … I regret all the opportunities we missed to share together in this life. I truly wish things had ended differently; there are so many things I would have liked to tell you…” Levi’s voice faltered, and she could hear the strain in his effort to maintain his composure. He quickly tucked the envelope beneath the bouquet of flowers and gently caressed it one last time before releasing his grip.

Her heart ached painfully as she saw a single tear roll down his cheek, and as if an invisible string connected them, a tear slipped down her own cheek as well. “I’ll be waiting for you, Levi. Live a little, enjoy yourself, and don’t worry too much. And when it’s your time, I will be here. I promise.”

Hange watched him navigate through the stages of his remaining life. She saw how he gradually gained strength until he could walk with just a walking stick. How with the arrival of spring and the blossoming of life around him, he regained a sense of hope and happiness. And how a few years later, he opened a tea shop alongside Gabi and Falco.

She was there every time he looked up at the sky, directing a few words to her, always ready to offer a response even though he would never hear it. And she was with him whenever he visited her grave, kneeling in front of it for hours, only to rise and complain that it was her fault his legs had gone numb.

Hange watched him grow old, slowly becoming weaker and a bit more cantankerous, yet never alone, even though he spoke very little in his final six months on Earth. Though she didn’t witness his departure, she was there, waiting for him in the grass among beautiful trees when he finally returned to her.

[hey-there-juliet]

• JATP Sci-Fi Week - Day Six: Superheroes @jatp-sci-fi-week

Notes: Yes, I'm a day late, I'm sorry!! I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do for this day, and even though I have two superheroes fanfics, neither one is developed enough for me to post anything.

So I've decided to share a sneak peek of one of the mentioned superhero fics and I hope you guys like it. The moodboard is specifically aimed at the sneak peek instead of something for the whole fic in general.

This is unbetaed, so any mistakes are my own. It's also kinda crappy, but oh well, lmao. Enjoy!! 💜

Summary: Seven superpowered youths are chosen to be trained as the next team of superheroes to protect the world. What they don't know is that General Covington has a very serious reason to want them whipped into shape. Too bad for him, though, their trainer - Trevor Wilson - doesn't seem interested in following the rules. (Inspired by Zoom: Academy of Superhero, a 2006 film).

content warning: jerk jock alert, along with a little bullying, but Luke sets him right. Light swearing.

• just your average, ordinary, everyday superhero •

SNEAK PEEK:

Another school day had finally come to an end, and Luke could hardly wait to get back to his guitar and finally be able to try out the melody that had been plaguing him all day. 

The doors were just around the corner, and he could almost picture them, the freedom just beyond, tugging him forward. 

"I was like a super spy or something, and there was this big, underground lab and I had an evil twin!" Reggie was saying, his hands moving around excitedly as he told Luke and Alex about his dream from the night before. 

He was walking backwards, a terrible habit that Alex tried to discourage as Luke egged him on, making sure to steer him away from classmates and objects alike. But he was too caught up in his friend's story to notice the guy leaning against the lockers just around the corner. 

Reggie's enthusiastic steps carried him straight into Shane Donovan's back, sending the ginger football player flying into his friends and all three of them to the floor a couple of feet farther into the hallway. Reggie, in turn, barely stumbled, more out of shock than anything else. He turned around, eyes wide and apologies already spilling profusely from his lips. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke could see Alex was thinking the same thing as him: Shit.

Donovan jumped to his feet a moment later, red coloring his cheeks and ears, possibly in embarrassment but most likely in anger. He turned around and marched toward Reggie.

Luke was quick to step in front of his friend though, hands raised in a hopeless attempt of settling things down without him ending up in detention. Again. 

"Hey, man," Luke forced a laugh, fixing the other boy with his most charming smile. "So sorry about that, totally my bad."

"Shut up, Patterson. I know it was your stupid, freak friend." 

His smile slipped off his face as Luke pulled his shoulders back. Donovan was still a foot taller than him, but all of his bulk meant nothing when Luke could take him down with a well placed thought. 

"Come on, now, man. It was an accident." He could see it in Shane's face that he was not in a rational mood though, so Luke resigned himself to another day of detention and another weekend grounded at home. 

"No." Donovan pushed against his chest, but Luke was ready for it and only stumbled back a step. Someone pushed him back to rights immediately, and with a quick glance at the almost empty space behind him, he knew it had been Alex. Reggie stood a couple of feet away, hands wriggling in anxious worry, glassy eyes watching Shane's increasingly red face with intent focus.

Luke hated that look on his friend's face. Hated it. His fists closed. He could hear the lockers start to rattle slightly.

"You and your freak friends shouldn't even be here," Donovan spit out, leaning his face closer to his. Then his eyes shifted behind him and Luke clenched his jaw, fists shaking with the effort it took to hold himself back. "What's wrong, Peters? Too chicken to stand up for yourself? Aw, poor weak, little baby, are you going to cry?" Shane's face twisted into a mocking pout. The lockers in the hallway shook harder, but he didn't seem to notice.

To say Luke was fuming would be an understatement. 

"I- I'm sorry, dude. It- It was totally an accident," Reggie stumbled through his apology, wide eyes unable to stay in one place for long.

"I- I- I-" Shane mocked, sidestepping Luke to move closer to Reggie. "This is a school for normal people, freak!"

That's it, Luke thought as he reached for the back of Shane's letterman jacket. At the same time, the lockers all around them burst open and folded into themselves with a deafening sound of metal on metal. 

People screamed and ran for the doors, but Luke didn't pay them any mind. Instead, he pulled Shane away from Reggie and slammed him against a very crooked locker. "That's enough!"

To be continued... some day.

___

tag list: @williexmercer @sunsetcurbed @angelofarts @emeraldrain55 @burntchromas @itsthebooks @flynn-taylor @kybee1497 @jatpfs

[kikis-writing-world]

30 Days

Summary: Frankie’s license is suspended, meaning he has no job until it’s sorted. Money is getting tight and the baby is on the way.  Set a few months before Triple Frontier.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Rating/Warnings: Mentions of Addition (Frankie is going to NA meetings for the coke problem,) pregnancy, swearing. Angsty but like... in a “you know it’ll be okay” kind of way? Unedited, unbeta-ed etc.

A/N: This is very loosely based on the song Pink Hotel by The Glorious Sons. I wouldn’t call it a song fic, but it was inspired by it for sure. Just a late night drabble.

All this money’s just paper baby, all these bills are just the same In the end the only reason for this house is to keep dry from the rain When all your problems are self-made, what you got to worry about? Dry your eyes we’ve been spoiled rotten, it ain’t hard to figure out 

Frankie opened the front door carefully, trying to stop the old thing from creaking. It was on his list of things he needed to work on, but he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Having his license suspended meant he had more time for all the projects around the aging house, but it also meant not enough money to afford the supplies he needed to do said projects.

He hoped you would be sleeping by the time he got back from his meeting. You needed your rest and he knew you hadn’t been sleeping well lately. He knew that because he hadn’t been sleeping well either. The stress of losing his job, however temporary it may be, was keeping the both of you up at night.

He could see a light on around the corner and knew you were up. You wouldn’t have gone to bed leaving the light on. You were a stickler for it even before money was tight. He cursed under his breath as he hung up his jacket, less worried now about making too much noise. He toed off his shoes, but kept his hat on as always.

“I’m home, mi alma.” He called as he followed the light into the kitchen.

You were sitting at the small, stained dining table, looking over various papers. Without looking too closely he knew what they were. Bills, bank statements, job posting. Your left hand rested on your stomach, thumb running over the growing bump under your cotton night shirt.

“Hey baby,” you looked up at him with tired eyes. “How was your meeting?”

“Good.” He kissed you on the top of the head before sitting in the mismatched dining chair next to you. “How’s she doing?”

“Okay. A little restless tonight, but she’s not kicking my bladder so I’ll take it.” You joked with a tired laugh.

He smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He still held so much guilt for the position you all were in now. The papers on the table reminding him of what a screw up he was. He stopped himself from apologizing, knowing that you’d tell him to stop. He’d apologized more times than he could count already, but it never felt like enough.

He pulled off his hat, fixing his hair before resettling it on top of his head. Seeing him getting lost in his thoughts, his eyes fading out of focus and filling with the guilt he carried like a second skin, you took his hand in yours and placed it on your belly. You held his hand right where the movement of your daughter was, like she was doing summersaults inside you.

Frankie perked up, his eyes returning to focus, his smile finally lighting up his face properly. “You weren’t joking.”

You chuckled in response. You were thankful that the baby could always snap him back to himself, especially when you didn’t have the words to do it. It was a lot of pressure to put on a baby that wasn’t even born yet, but right now she was the glue holding your lives together. You hoped it would be enough to make it through this rough patch. Just until you and Frankie had a better hold on your lives and could hold it together yourselves.

“I got something.” Frankie spoke, his voice quiet. With his hand still on your stomach, he pulled something out of his jeans and set it on the table. A little orange disk with the number 30 on it. “My 30 days.”

“Baby, I’m so proud of you.” You gushed, holding your arms out for him. You would have leaned over and pulled him into you yourself had the baby bump not been in the way. Frankie grinned bashfully and leaned forward, letting you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss.

“It’s nothing-”

“It’s not nothing.” You cut him off. “I know it isn’t easy.”

“It should be.” He scoffed, sitting back in his chair.

“Don’t start that.” You scolded.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. It should be easy for him to not use. It should be easy for him to hold down a job so the two of you could pay bills, fix up the house, save for the baby. He felt like a shitty partner, and a shitty father for letting his addiction get this far. He wanted to apologize again, but didn’t want to upset you any further.

“I’m sorry,” he said anyways. You raised an eyebrow at him so he clarified, “for saying that.”

“Good.” You nodded.

He looked over the papers on the table, wondering how long you’d been staring at them. He already knew no amount of balancing would make the columns match up. More was owing than you had, than was coming in, and the baby wasn’t going to wait for a plushy nest egg to land on. His army pension was next to nothing. You were still working - which he hated, but it was necessary at this point - but wouldn’t be able to for much longer. After that...

He pushed all the papers together onto one side of the table, effectively deciding neither of you were going to think about them for the rest of the night.

He stood, holding his hand out for you. “C’mon.”

You took his hand, using his help to stand. You could still stand on your own at this point, but it was a bit of a spectacle. You expected him to pull you into your bedroom to go to bed for the night, but instead he pulled you close - as close as you could get with the baby between you - and wrapped his arms around you.

You smiled, returning the hug. He was more affectionate with you lately, and you knew it was making up for his mistakes. You didn’t expect him to start humming and swaying the two of you. You turned in his hold so that you could rest your head against his shoulder. You closed your eyes as his voice vibrated through his chest. You could feel it vibrating in your own ribs and you wondered if the baby felt it too. You didn’t recognize the song, but that was okay.

He kept one arm around you, the other hand resting on your belly. He rested his chin on top of your head as the two of you danced in the kitchen. For a moment, the stress melted away.

“We’ll be okay.” He stopped humming to whisper into the quiet room.

“I know, baby.” You answered, whispering back to him.

He lifted his head from yours, leaning back so he could meet your eyes. “Do you?”

You swallowed hard, trying to force back the emotions swirling inside you. With the hormones going wild in your body, you didn’t stand a chance. “No.” You admitted, voice hoarse.

“I’ll figure it out.” He promised, cupping your cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”

“How?” You cried.

He sighed, knowing he didn’t have the answers yet. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and wiped away the tear that slipped from your eyes.

“Everything I care about in this world is in my arms.” He told you. “You and the baby. I don’t give a shit about the rest. This house is here to keep us dry from the rain, but I don’t give a fuck otherwise. We can live anywhere as long as we’re together. We can sell the house, the truck, all of it. We’ll figure it out.”

You nodded tearfully, agreeing with him.

“As long as we’re together, we’ll figure out the rest.”

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl​ @din-damn-djarin​ @thisisthe-wayson​

[chuuulip]

Another Earth

Pairing: August Walker (werewolf) x Female Reader (red ridding hood)

Warning: 18+, PWP, Oral (M and F receiving), Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Slightly ABO Universe, Rough Sex

Words: 7434

Summary: After a failed attempt to sign up for the Halloween haunted house to meet your Superman, the last minute ticket turned your night upside down as you were stuck in another earth.

A/N: Unbeta! Any grammar mistake will be on me. Divider by me 😆 This is for @jtargaryen18​ Halloween challenge, and I’m pretty late! Sorry for that life has been busy xD I still have another one in progress (the Andy barber one) and hopefully can post it soon! Thanks to @navybrat817​ and @venusdemonroe​ for giving me the idea for this story and help me discuss what a werewolf August Walker would do in this lol. Actually I wanted to mention a lot....of things but I guess it would be too much for a one shot lil but anyway Happy reading!!!

***

This year's Halloween event was mental. Several big haunted houses are hosted by celebrities. To name a few, there's an Avengers Tower haunted house, The Hall of Justice League, The X-Mansion, and even Walking Dead one. 

 You knew it wasn't easy. All of them have a huge fandom. The ticket was sold out immediately when it was open for sale, like 3 months before Halloween, and you were terribly upset. You were whining for a month straight to your boyfriend. Or more like your sugar daddy. He was patient and wealthy, but he knew he can't satisfy you enough, so he usually did everything he could for you. But that time, you just have none of it. The relationship, if you could ever say that, fell out immediately because you were unreasonable.

 You really wanted to go to The Hall of Justice League and maybe meet Clark Kent. The obsession started because he always visited your dream and mostly engaged in the steamiest dream ever. It's been your wildest dream, really, to have that body blanketed yours, in a really not innocent way.

 Just one day before Halloween, you finally secured one ticket for The Hall of Justice League haunted house. Of course, the first thing you did was scream. You had been on their waiting list since the ticket sold out, but you really lost hope since last week. But now, you celebrate it with a bit of a jump and constant scream.

 "What the fuck?" Your only housemate barged into your bedroom. Face annoyed.

 You stopped your silly jumps and looked at your housemate. With a broad smile, you hug your housemate and shake her body, "I got it! I got the ticket for The Hall of Justice League haunted house! Can you believe that?"

 The redhead hugged you, and both of you jumped in a circle. "Oh my gosh...I can't believe it! Congrats!!! I really hope you will meet your Kryptonite." she gave you her suggestive smirk.

 "I mean...a girl can only hope. But this is a charity event. I don't think he will be available. What if it's all a decoy and I only meet his wax figure?" you pouted at your friend.  

 "Well, at least you have the opportunity to see it yourself. But remember, behave, young lady, don't let him if he's there, I mean, witness your brattiness."

 "Aye...aye Captain!" you giggled but immediately gave your housemate a military saluted.

 That night you dreamed of those big blue eyes and his firm, fantastic arms on yours.

 ***

 Dress in your red riding hood costume, you patiently sat in the backseat of the Uber car. Well, maybe a little bit impatient, since it's already 11pm. 

 Everything just went down the hill since morning. You can't seem to find your Poison Ivy costume. Not to mention that you were late for work that morning. Your boss was a bitch since she seems annoyed at you every time the male employee or investor became too friendly with you. 

 Who can blame you? You were just good at acting all cute to them, and it's not your fault that they mostly thought you were a cute little employee. 

 You check your wrist. The expensive rose gold watch from your ex sugar daddy elegantly pointed at 11.30 pm. You sighed, "do you know how long I will arrive at my destination? It will close soon."

 "Hopefully, in 10 minutes. Dunno why it's jam-packed." Said the Uber driver.

 You huffed in exasperation, but there's nothing you can do. You arrived very last minute, like 15 minutes before the haunted house closed. Wearing black stiletto boots, you carefully made a small run into the stairs. The booth was stationed to the far left of the building. 

 "Good night, little red riding hood; you are lucky because we are almost closed. Can I see your ticket, please?" A man dressed as Edwar Scissorhands greeted you at the far left of the building. 

 You fished out your smartphone from your small basket bag and showed him your barcode. He scanned it and looked at the monitor in front of him. "Hmm, here for a kryptonite, aren't you." He eyed you up and down and smirked at you. "I hope you have a spooky night, little girl." 

 You smile at him and sashay your way to the entrance. Apparently, they makeover a warehouse into a vast real-life Justice League Hall. Like in the comic. A white half-circle exterior completed with two giant pillars at each side imitated the picture you only seen in comic books. It looks so magnificent. 

 You entered the door after you scanned your barcode at the scanner next to it. The whooshing noises startle you a bit, but you were too excited and step in immediately. 

 The inside was bright with a black marble flooring that shone bright; you even can see your reflection. There's a different section of the silvery door like in most sci-fi, alien invasion movies. So futuristic, so clinical. 

 You darted your eyes and found where you needed to go. A small rectangle monitor with a very digital clock font in it showed you 'Krypton' words. Without hesitation, you did a little run and waited in front of it. The small rectangle monitored turned to green, and it shone. It startled you, but you let out a sigh of relief when it just scanned your body from your head to toe. 

 "So much for a haunted house." You muttered. 

 When the door opened, you stepped in. It was a glass elevator. You circled your eyes and found everything was dark. When the elevator ran, bringing you down several floors, the surrounding changed. 

 Once, the darkness engulfed you like you were being shipped to the deep ocean, but it changed dramatically. Your eyes darted in awe as you drank on the scenery. The scenery of what you would call the imitation of Planet Krypton. So beautiful yet so harsh. 

 When the elevator stopped, the ding noise pulled you to the present. With excitement, you grabbed your smartphone and took several pictures of the scenery. It was just so surreal that a haunted house would make something like this. But you remember how expensive the ticket was.

 "This three grant haunted house better give me a chance to fuck a real-life Clark Kent." you cackled. 

 There's a weird tower with a green light on top of it. You assumed some futuristic objects were supposed to be 'kryptonite' as it floated sparsely in most parts of the supposed Krypton. A bit further, you could see a white crystal-like triangle building. Oddly enough, it reminded you of the Louvre Pyramid. This one just full of crystal-like pillars crisscrossed it. 

 Didn't want to waste your time, you decided what path you should choose. It wasn't easy. Your stiletto pierced to the weird substrate like mud but also crystal-like as if it's ice. Carefully, you mind your footing while again stayed alert. There's this odd feeling of being watched. But you reminded yourself that you were in a haunted house, so it's understandable.

 You let out a loud scream when suddenly a mummy appeared behind one of the floated crystals. "Holy shit, I didn't see that coming." you try to slow down your breath as you clutched the white ruffle shirt under your red corset.

 When you feel that you can walk again, you try to do it faster. Several times it looks like the Krypton had shifted in its light as if the sun rose and shone, but the next five minutes, it set. Made the scenery look like it was illuminated by the crystal alone, like a lamp.

 When many ghost-like mannequins showed up, it got scarier and scarier, and you immediately lowered your hood to shield you from some view. Your eyes perked up when you finally saw the path to the Fortress of Solitude. It was more like an icy bridge with a dark pond surrounding it. 

 As your right foot stepped onto the bridge, a loud noise of a clock surprised you. It struck once and counted until it stopped at the twelfth. It was so loud it's voice echoed. You can even feel it under the sole of your boots. 

 Stunned for a moment, your mind suddenly set on alert mode when the water from both ponds on each side of the bridge rippled. A dinosaur-like head appeared from both ponds. It has a single protruding horn. It opened its mouth and let out a loud growl. A blast of wind came out of it like a thunderstorm. It has sharp teeth like sharks that you assumed could quickly rip your body apart if it sank on yours. 

 "Holy shit. This is— this is a joke, right? It's not real?" Body trembled in fear; you ran your life out to the Fortress of Solitude. The monsters crawled up out of the water. Its slithered movement mimicked a snake, but it didn't have any problem crawling up without things to latch on. 

 You screamed as both of the monsters chased you. Run as fast as your legs allow you. This haunted house event might be too much for you. When you can see an oval object that looks like it can be a big mirror or a huge door, your gloved palms immediately bang on it. "Open the door!" You screamed. When the door finally opened, the two snake-like monsters that chased you suddenly disappeared.

 "Oh— oh my god. Oh my god…," you chanted as you let yourself drop down on the floor. 

 "I see you finally make it." 

 Your face turned to the left. In front of you, stood up tall and proud, Clark Kent with his superman costume. He's just so big. If you compared your tiny body to him, you definitely, nothing.

 You replied to Superman's bright smile with a scowl. Slowly you got up from the floor and cleaned your skirt. "Isn't that just too much? What if I fell to the pond? I can't swim, you know?"  

 He seems surprised, "apologized my lady. It was something the organizer will handle. I don't think they mean any harm."

 "Yeah...yeah… right." you walked closer to the hero and already fished out your mobile phone. "So… what did I need to do now I meet you, Superman?"

 "Hmm… most attendants ask for pictures. Some of them spent time just talking with me. Since you are the last one, you can take as many pictures as you like and of course. If you have any questions about my protection for the earth, I will gladly answer it." The tone in his voice was more soft than authoritative. 

 Think of not sabotaging your Halloween any longer; you tried to forgive the silliness of the whole new level of scary from this haunted house. It's hard not to show off your brattiness in this kind of situation. Still, you reminded yourself that he was someone you weren't familiar with—practically a stranger.

 Gave him a sweet smile, you took several pictures with him. At one time, you tried to bat your eyelashes at him and asked for a picture where you sat on his lap. You spent a solid 15 minutes talking to the handsome alien. Your fingers touched his biceps here and there. You knew that he knew what you were implying, but he didn't refuse you either. At least not blatantly.

 "I apologized, my dear, but I think it's already time." Superman gently put you back on your feet. You gave him an upset face, but you knew it's time to go home. You bid the handsome man goodbye and sneaked a kiss on his cheeks. There's a twinge of pink on his cheeks, and you jump triumphantly at that reaction. Of course, behind his back.

 Following the word of 'exit' behind the piles of the crystal-like shape props, you opened the door. The scenery in front of you caught you off guard. The harshed white tundra scenery was replaced by now dark, almost jungly like one. Unconsciously you stepped back and turned your body to come back to the exit door. How shocked you were when it vanished. Disappear without a trace.

 As far as your eyes could see, it's only darkness and mist. Only the full moon aided your visions. The exhalation of your breath came out like a plume of white steam. It's definitely colder here than the fake Krypton one. The cold air seeped into your skin quickly as if you were actually in the deep of a forest. 

 With a loud sigh, you walk straight. You tumbled and fell down on your knees as your boots got caught with something: either roots or a massive branch. 

 Tired and frightened, you screamed loudly. You weren't sure if this was the continuation of the haunted house or not, but what you want right now just to be back in your apartment and soaked in a warm, relaxing bath. 

 "Get me out of here!" you yelled again. There's a lot of sounds as if a lot of people stepping on branches. A screeching sound of an owl surprised you, but you tried to follow its direction with your ears. 

 There's no way you will wait here and do nothing. Oh...my phone! You fished out your smartphone, but it showed no signal. "Shit!." you muttered. 

 The sounds from a far away crept closed, and you knew it. "You can do it! There's nothing more frightening than that monster snake." tried to encourage yourself; you stood up and slowly navigated. You followed the noises that now closer, like an animalistic growl. It was so intense you can feel all the goosebumps rise up your skin. 

 You weren't sure how long you have been walking, but you stopped suddenly when there's not only a pair but like 7 pairs of reddish eyes glowed in the dark. 

 "Come here, little lamb. Don't follow that voice." a vaguely familiar voice distracted you from stepping forward. 

 "Who the fuck are you, and why you get in my way just now." your voice came out hoarse. There's a twinge of fear in it, and you knew it. You felt like backed down wasn't the best option you had right now.

 "I said, come here, or else I can't even save you when they get you." 

 You stilled as if you didn't hear him talking to you. "Wasn't this still one of the tricks from the haunted house? To let the people scramble in fear?" 

 "Are you out of your mind? Come here right now, or I left you to death. They will either rip you apart or play your body like a ragdoll before one of them eats you." 

 You screamed in horror as one pair of red eyes slowly came out. It's huge. Almost four feet of canine shook its fur. 

 You were hyperventilating right now. Body rooted to the ground as you were surrendered. Welcoming your fate. 

 "Fuck!" 

 You heard a curse from behind your back. Maybe the stranger gave up and left you alone to be eaten by the wolves. 

 The scrunched sound of leaves crushed was loud. Suddenly you felt strong arms hauled you upside down. 

 Your eyes faced the skin of someone's back. You craned your neck a little bit to get a better view of the wolf. Screamed escaped your lips when you saw not only one but all of them, in a pack, chased both of you. 

 "Stay still." The stranger yelled. 

 Did the best thing to not get thrown out by his weird, fast speed, you secured your thumbs in his belt loops. He ran, escaped the pack inside the deep of what looked like a pine forest. 

 You weren't sure how long you ran with him, but you felt that he's finally slowed down. 

 When the thud thud sound reached your ears, you opened your eyes and saw that the stranger walked up a stair.  

 You felt nauseated when he suddenly put you to sit on something that was apparently a countertop. The rushes of blood that circulated through your body made you regain your sense of surroundings. 

 "Where am I?" you didn't mean to add an ungrateful tone in your sentence, but it was too late.

 The stranger eyed you like you were some sort of ungrateful bitch, which maybe you are. "At my cabin," he said flatly.

 You haven't had time to look at him in the forest, but now, under the actual lighting inside his house, what you saw might instantly make you drooled, which you already did right now. Stand up in front of you, a shirtless beefy tall man that's definitely more than six feet tall. He has short dark brown hair with a somewhat thick mustache that's complemented by a stubble. The front strands of his hair were loose and slightly curled. Looks likely due to all the running.  

 The sudden chill of air made you shiver, and he didn't miss your reaction. He left you for a minute and came back with a rug. The sudden heat from it, when he draped the fabric on your shoulder made you let out a gasp of satisfaction. 

 But the next thing you know, he ripped your stocking. You were shocked, eyeing him in horror. "What the fuck are you doing?!" You threw whatever things that's on your reach. The loud sound of glass hit the wall, and the strong grip on your wrist instantly made your stop.

 "Be still!" His azure irises left no room for confrontation. When you felt a sting on your knees, that's when you realized that he just pressed some gauze on it. Likely soaked with alcohol first. There's quite a prominent stain of blood on your legs, and it almost made you nauseated. 

 "If you stop acting like a brat, you'll heal faster." He looked at you with that cocky smile of confidence. "Understood?" 

 You just nodded at him. He continued to clean the blood and inspect the wounds. The position where you were sitting right now made it easier to study him carefully. 

 Although you felt the temperature decreased significantly, the beefy stranger in front of you appeared very sweaty. 

 Immediately your gaze ran down to his neck and continued its way to his chest and his abs. The unmistakable bulge under his pants made you squirm unconsciously. You were in a haze of fear and lust; you definitely insane. 

 "Wha— what's your name, sir?" 

 His strong gazed felt as if his eyes alone can subdue you. Maybe he has these laser eyes like Cyclops, your inner thought buzzed with speculation.

 "August. My name is August Walker. What's your name, little lamb?" 

 How dare this man call you a little lamb? You cleared your throat and told him your name and where you were from.

 "New York? It's pretty far from here." He patched you up nicely. The water-resistant gauze looked really neat pressed on your knees and some on your shin. You were impressed.

 When your eyes returned to August, you gave him a smile that you hoped looked like a smile of gratitude. Not the kind of smile you always presented to any potential partner in bed, sultry, and flirtatious.  

 "I— I haven't said anything but— thanks. Thank you for saving my life." Your left fingers instinctively pat his right arms. The feeling of his skin startled you. It's warm; in fact, it felt like he had a very high fever.

 "Are— are you alright? Your temperature feels off." 

 "Don't mind me. Just take care of yourself." 

 You knew there's something off with him, but you weren't sure if you had a clear mind to think right now. Not with the wolf pack outside and his words on New York being far away from here. Where the fuck am I? 

 "I… I have a—,"

 "I suggest you stay here if you don't want to meet them."

 "But I…,"

 "You can use the bedroom there," his hand pointed to the door on the far end. "Feel free to use anything you want. Just don't come to the basement. I will meet you after a couple of days, and we figured things out." 

 His authoritative voice and dominant persona immediately made you want to counter his suggestion. The funny thing was, looked like he sensed it.

 He approached you, face just inches away from you. Your eyes immediately glanced away from the delicious plane of his sweaty chest. His fingers drew your chin up, so both of your eyes were at the same level. "Do what I said, understand?. Thrust me; you don't want to know the consequences if you violate my suggestion."

 Suggestion, my ass! Your inner mind ready to throw insults at him, but you quickly held it back. In the end, you nodded at him obediently.

 —

 That night you were restless. But in a weird sense, you felt comfortable staying in that cabin. The first night after August left you to your own devices, you had been pretty careful. Not touched a lot of things except food and items that help you with your long bath. 

 His cabin was quite spacious. The interior was a mix of something slicked and modern with an equal touch of classic. Tried to look homey. Not to mention his bathroom, it's super luxurious and made you feel at home instantly. Reminded you of your ex (sugar daddy's) bathroom. 

 Since you couldn't find another bedroom in that cabin and you don't feel like sleeping on the couch, you slept in his bed instead. After all, he said you can use the bedroom there. Still wearing your red riding hood costume, you slipped under the soft comforter. 

 After that, you woke up feeling a bit groggy. Aimlessly wandered around the kitchen, you weren't sure what to do first. Tried collecting your bearing, you tried to make a coffee. Or any equivalent things of it. Everything felt different; you just knew it. When the only thing you could find was several jars that you assumed were granules of tea, you brew it. You sat on the sofa that faced up a lake. The wall was made of glass, making everything well seen. 

 You walked closer and gazed at the vast pine forest in front of you. The trees were tall and big, so majestic. Somewhat it's different from the pine trees you usually see. The lake in front of you looked like it had two different colors, fusion together with weird looking fishes and plants that should grow on the land instead of water. Where the fuck am I? 

 The next day, you woke up feeling a little bit refreshed. You changed your slutty costume into one of the clothes you found in his closet. It was so soft and comfy. You knew when things were from high-quality material.  

 You continued your days by drinking your tea, ate whatever breakfast you can munch, and read a book that has these unusual fonts. You were sure it wasn't in the alphabet, but one day you absentmindedly swipe your fingers on some of the pages, and the font changed. Hell, it even translated into English in an instant. You were definitely impressed. 

 One thing you are sure of was, this place was strange. Wherever you were right now, it didn't look like it's on earth. Or the earth that you knew. Why were you so calm? Because you already freak out. After you freak out, you also wondered, did the haunted house event organizer realized that they were the culprit behind what the fuck happened to you right now? Did your housemate recognize that you weren't home for days? Or maybe she thought you fuck the Superman or perhaps found another sugar daddy? It was so absurd yet so real.

 The last two nights, you were struck in awe as your eyes were spoiled by two moons. Two fuckin moons. It was always quiet at night, but you heard all the howls that you suspected likely from the pack of those giant wolves.   

 It was pretty late, almost midnight. You finally found your small bag hindered under the sofa that evening. Now…, now you had some time to check it. The first thing you checked was if there's a signal. Definitely no signal at all. 

 You curled up on August bed while swiping the pictures on your phone. When you scrolled your pictures with Superman, you realized why August seems familiar. It was none other than August having quite the same face, the same build, even somewhat similar voices with Superman. 

 "Fuck...maybe I should ask August if he would like to be my Daddy while I'm here." Imagining him spoiled you with gifts and other physical attention made you chuckled at yourself. 

 Your fingers instinctively crawled under the gray long sleeve shirt you borrowed from his closet (again). Your brain projected an image as if it was August's hands that ran on your upper thigh. Find its way quickly to your wet core. Two fingers slipped under the black lace panty. The panty that you need to wash daily due to no other replacement available. Left you a couple hours with only his buttoned-up shirt without anything underneath. 

 The sound of a loud howl startled you. It was as if it circled you in close range. Moved as fast as you can, you snatched the oversize robe on you. Your eyes tried to creep behind the curtain in the bedroom. 

 You knew the owner of this cabin stated that you can't go to the basement. You wouldn't be so lucky if that giant wolf found you first and broke in. Although you haven't been really out of the cabin, you tried to inspect a little bit and found it odd that this cabin was apparently a treehouse-style cabin. How come there's a basement in the house.

 You exit the bedroom and go to the kitchen when you last saw August a couple nights ago. Next to the slick wooden cabinet was a particular thing that looked like a door. The surface of your palms works like a stethoscope, felt as if something with pressure from your hands. You tried not to get disturbed by the nonstop howl outside. When you hear something as if the door was shifted, you immediately step back. 

 "Oh my, finally…," you slipped inside the small door when it opened automatically. It was a small narrow corridor-like, and it was dark. Walk inside carefully, you follow the path that leads you to another door. The metal door let out a weird creaked as you pushed it open. 

 "Didn't I tell you not to come down here?" 

 Shocked was evident in your face when you heard his rather gruff tone. You step over, closer to where he sat, that looks more likely an even bigger size of the bed than the one he had upstairs.    

"Don't —,"

 He warned you, but you being you, could never obey orders. Although challenging, your eyes finally adapt to the only natural light from the glass wall. That said, you were totally confused as you can see the lake parallel to your eyes. 

 "What the… wait, how there's even a basement down here? Last time I checked, the cabin is a treehouse?"

 "It's camouflage. No one can't see it or enter from outside."

 "Holy… why there's a three moon?" you switched your gaze from the moon to August. Curiosity got the better of you when you saw his irises were now pale blue. You can still see the outer form that is August, but something was off. 

 A gasp escaped your lips as August rose up from the bed. The powerful moon shone his feature. He was taller, bulkier, and dangerous as he stalked towards you slowly. Your heart thumped erratically as you were cornered. Back supported by the glass wall as now you can see August in his other form. 

 "Holy shit. Wha—what are you?"

 "Told you not to go here, and you just can't listen, little lamb." his smirk turned maniacal as he looked at the fear on your face. His white fangs, longer than usual. His fingers also look unusual, claw-like. 

 "Are you— are you a werewolf?" 

 "Well...you can say that. I'm half human half wolf if you are curious." 

 "So why— why did you save me?"

 The tip of his nose inched closer to yours. You held your breath when his warm skin touched you. It moved to your left cheek and stopped near your ear. "I'm curious," he whispered.

 "I haven't really met a pure human in the same age range. So I have followed you since I saw you step out of that door. I follow you until you meet the other wolf pack, and I decide to help you instead of fulfilling my need." 

 "What need?" you asked him, dumbfounded.

 "This," he pulled away from you, his claw-like finger pointed out below his hip. Focusing on the long and hard appendage that was unmistakably, his cock.

 "Oh—I- I'm sorry?" you gave him your best apologetic face. Eyes seemed eager to stare longer, but you gazed away quickly. Wait, why did you apologize to him? You cleared your throat, "I— I actually not sure what I should do to help?" tilted your head to the right, you looked him in the eyes, almost challenged him.

 Despite almost getting eaten by wolves, August's menacing presence didn't really scare you. Maybe the fact that he was still human and less scary made it easy for you. Not to mention he's hot too, with all his glory. 

 His somewhat evil chuckled sent shivers down your spine. "If you really wanted to help, I think you know what to do, don't you?"

 "W-wait—is—does this mean we 'mate'?" you gave him a somewhat weird expression. "And—and you bite me, give me marks that I'm yours? And knot me, and I will have a litter of puppies, and I become your omega—,"

 His pale blue eyes stared at you as if you grew two heads. It softened immediately as he smiled. Broad one showed you a set of white teeth with extra long fangs. 

 "Oh, my little lamb...what have you read?"

 "Err— Omega verse? Fanfic?"

 He blinked. Gave you a quizzical expression.

 "It's— it's erotica. Where mostly the character you know—," you darted your eyes away from August. "—mate, err have sex. Mostly was written very explicitly."

 "Go on." He said.

 "They are wolves, scenting, imprinting. An alpha mates with omega, and it's been told in a variety of plots possible. Sometimes two alphas fight too." You were breathless. You didn't realize you explained it to him in a quick, incoherent way. 

 You staggered backward as he came closer, forgetting that you already cornered. His long fingers reached out to the white robe you put on you. Although his fingers had claws that looked alarming to you, his hand still skillfully unfastened the robe.

 "That's a bit of an exaggeration, I think. Pack and hierarchies usually form just for a mating season; they hunt together for food and shelter in the winter. We might be scenting people, I guess. After all, we have a very sensitive sense of smell. But no, we don't bite our mate." He took off the robe from your body, left you only with his grey buttoned-up shirt.

 "Well...I love that you are wearing my shirt as if you are mine already."

 You purse your lips at him. "Why aren't you in a pack? Isn't it a mating season?" 

 "I mostly can control myself during the full moon. That's the advantage of being half-human. I don't need to transform myself into a wolf and be in a pack. But I am an alpha if that's what you are curious about."

 "Can-can you turn back to your human form? Not like—you know, you aren't in your human form, bu—," your words were cut off by his thumb on your lips. 

 "You talk too much, aren't you, little lamb…," August leaned down and touched his lips to yours. Your first reaction was to freeze since you were afraid of his fangs. But his surprisingly soft lips coaxed you relentlessly, making you surrender as you closed your eyes. Opening your mouth, his tongue sneaked past your lips easily. His fangs poke at your lower lips, but it didn't hurt.

 The non so innocent kiss became more desperate. Your once shied tongue now dances together with August. Your once clasped palms that were situated on top of your chest now scraped at his shoulder. 

 Your eyes fluttered open as August nipped down from your jaw to your neck. Forgotten, you even close your eyes in the first place. His claw-like fingers unbuttoned his shirt on yours without difficulty, left you only in your black lace panty. 

 The feeling of temperature as if dropped significantly made you glued your body to August. Smooth skin of your chest pressed to his hot hairy one, seeking warmth. One hand secured behind your back while the other palm on your ass. Massage the globe there. 

 "Ohh…" you gasped as you felt his finger on your clothed core. 

 "Hmm… wet already, I see." he let the pad of his finger move up to your clit, while the movement of the claw added sensation to your already. Seeing your reaction, he repeated it a couple times. Made you a mess with only one of his fingers.  

 Arched your body a little bit, you were thrilled to see his expression. Traveled your hands down from his hairy chest; your eyes still focused on his face, while your palms found their way to his hard cock. 

 "Oh, so big…," slowly at first, you ran your hands at the tip of his cock. Even without looking at it, you knew it's definitely bigger than any cock you've ever seen. 

 Eyes widened as your hand slid down to the base. The other weighed his balls. "Holy…," your eyes looked down, stared in awe at his cock. 

 "Careful little lamb, you drooled on it."

 "Who's not?" You eyed him in disbelief.

 August let out a weird laugh, "I expect you to worship it, then." He looked at you with a bemused expression as you quickly worked on his length. Stroked it up and down repeatedly. 

 You go down on your knees, eyes crossed as you focused on his slit that oozed pre-cum. Unconsciously, you stuck out your tongue and brushed it on his slit. Wrapped your right hand at the base of his cock, your gaze rose up to meet his. Left handheld on his upper thigh for support as your lips covered the heat of his cock. You bobbed your head calculatedly as you accommodate him halfway. 

 "Such a good little lamb for your wolf, aren't you." August's right hand was at the back of your head as he nudged you none too gently. Made you choke at his cock, and pulled it out from your mouth. You gazed at the mix of your saliva and his precum in awe. But it didn't last long as August pulled you to your feet and picked you up. 

 He climbed up on the bed with you and laid on his back. He situated your hips and pulled it closer, so your opening was hovering on top of his face. On all four, for him. August was rewarded with a yelped and a moan as his tongue licked your clothed core. 

 The sound of fabric being ripped made you turn your head to the right. "That's my only pa— ohhh," your protest died right away as his tongue lapped your opening. The feel of his claws as he spread your ass cheeks added wonder to your pussy. 

 Trying to keep yourself busy, you swallowed the head of his cock for a starter. His cock was too big for you; your mouth can only allow half of it. Diligently, you tried to move your tongue while you suck on his cock, hands slid up and down. Feeling all the veins that encircled his length made you shuddered.

 August bucked his hips as you put one of your hands to massaging his balls. The action made you gagged as his cock entered further than before. But it didn't take a long time for you to stop due to his sudden attack on your pussy. 

 His tongue was not lapped at you anymore; it rammed inside your wet core like a starved man. You squealed as the end of his fangs scrapped at your now wet pussy. The pressure on your clit as the pad of his fingers made a circular motion left you breathless. It drove you to your high faster than you ever experienced. A surprised scream left off your lips as his tongue scraped your most sensitive part. Your body quivered as your inner walls spasm, hands held on his cock as you ride your high. 

 "Ohh— my god, ohh—my god—," you can still feel the kitten licked as August feasted on it. 

 "Ahh—that' s—that's good." You let your head rested on his left thigh. 

 "Now, for the main course." August's gruff tone pulled you back from your hazy state. His hard cock was evident on your right hand. 

 You felt your body shifted position, and now you were on your back. August spread your legs wide and shifted his position. The feeling of his heavy cock on top of your pussy made you nervous but also excited. Unconsciously you nibbled your forefingers while eyes traveled down to his long and hard cock. It made an up and down motion on your opening. You can feel your wet pussy clenched in frustration, ready to be filled. 

 "August please…," still nibbled at your fingers, you gaze at the wolf on top of you, one elbow supporting your upper body. He's so big, literally and figuratively. If you can't come back to your world, so be it. You didn't mind staying and being his plaything as long as he wanted you. 

 "Please, what my little lamb?" You pouted at that. You definitely weren't a little lamb. If anything, you should be the succubus. 

 "Please put that in me—," you writhed underneath him. 

 "Please put what?" His big body tower over you. His pupils dilated and only left a small ring of pale blue irises. His clawed fingers move up and down your thigh.

 "Ple—please, ohhhh, put that cock inside me! Fuck me, my wolf— nhhh—," your plead was answered when August suddenly pushed the head of his cock on your opening. 

 The back of your head fell to rest on the thick pillow as the intrusion of August's cock sent a surprising jolt on your body. You knew he's big. But when his cock finally spread your lips open and entered you, the overwhelming sensation was something you still didn't expect. 

 "Ohh— so big—," your pussy clenched immediately when August tried to push deeper but also slowly. The noticeable ridge of his vein scraped at your inner wall deliciously. With closed eyes, you gripped the edge of the pillow as you mumbled about how full you feel right now. 

 "Work your clit for me. Yes...make that tight pussy cream on my cock."

 "Oh—like this?" Your fore and middle fingers slowly pulled the hood and made a circular motion as August asked. 

 "Yes… Just like that…."

 It didn't take you long enough to feel the fast buildup on your lower belly. Something that never happened before. "Ohh—yes—I'm going to cum, my—ahhh," you work your clit faster as August cock made a shallow fuck inside you. 

 "Yes, cum on my cock, my little lamb. I want to see your pretty face when you cum for your wolf." His wolf tone deliciously affected your body. His growl sent an extra twitch on your clit. And you lose it when he thrust all the way inside your wet pussy. 

 You scream in ecstasy as your pussy quivered uncontrollably on his hard cock. You feel so full. The feeling of his cock all the way inside you made your brain feel as if it was submerged. Forgotten that you ever closed your eyes, you were rewarded by a sly smirk on August werewolf's face. His eyes were now all dark. His hair loosened, made the curls of it fall to his forehead. 

 "I see you enjoying yourself, my little lamb." His claws caressed your thigh gently.

 "Nnn—of course, I ahhh—I am." A little movement from August made you aware that his cock still inside you. Hard as a rock. 

 August lifted up both your knees and secured it with his hands. You lifted your upper body with your elbows as he retrieved his cock from your wet core. You gasped when you witnessed August pulled it out, inches by inches. Left only the head inside you.

 You moaned when he pushed again. Stretched you like no one else ever had. He did it slowly, knew that you still adapt to his girth. But the feeling when the tip of his cock scraped your most sensitive part every time he thrust inside you, you were tripped to your high even faster than before. 

 The moan of pleasure became incoherent as August sped up his pace. Repeated syllables of ahhh and ohhh accompanied your plead for him to fuck you like you were a female wolf. Released his pent up frustration to mate. 

 Both of you fuck like an animal who just needs to reproduce. Lust clouded the atmosphere in the room. Moaned and growled were sung like a prayer under the moonlight that shone its way to the basement. 

 His balls slapped against your ass every time he plugged in inside you. Sweats trickled down your body, and it looked even animalistic in August. His werewolf form was so majestic that you just wholly let him own you. 

 His feracious fucking looked like almost to its limit. The buzzed on your lower belly was ready to explode, but you held it.

"Fuck!" He growled.

 "Uhh—uhh—uhh—cum in me. Yes—cum in me, my wolf— filled me up with your thick hot cum!" You pleaded like a bitch in heat. 

 August slammed his cock deep inside you as he screamed and let out a long howl. The feel of his warm cum inside you triggered your orgasm. You wail as your inner walls contracted and squeezed his cock. Spurt and spurt of his cum filled your womb to the brim. Something that you never allowed any of your partners to do in the past. 

 You didn't realize that you lock both your ankles behind August ass. But also you sensed something changed. August was draped on top of your body, head sneaked at the crook of your neck. Still, in a haze caused by the release of oxytocin in your bloodstream, you missed the way August kissed turned into something more. He bit you. 

 The still clouded brain of yours pop-up an image of you becoming August omega. His only mate. Bear a litter of pups for him and live happily ever after in his house, in his world. Your pussy unconsciously clenched at his cock that was still inside you. You never really said this to anyone, but you imagine you live in another world since the first time you ever read a story about omega verse. 

 You mewled when the biting stopped. Maybe August bit you just for fun. When he craned his head up to look at you, something was different. His eyes turned back to his azure color. His fangs now short, back to its regular human teeth, and his body wasn't as hairy as he's before. He's practically not in his werewolf form anymore. 

 "You changed? Why?"

 He looked at you with his quizzical expression. "You wanted me to return to my werewolf form?" 

 You glanced away from him and kind of embarrassed to declare that his werewolf form was way hotter than his human form. Not that his human form wasn't hot either. Damn, you definitely bang him every time you can, but his werewolf form just made you curl your toes in an instant. 

 You cleared your throat and looked him in the eyes, "I like it very much."

 "Well...the full moon is still in the sky for quite some time. Are you ready for the next round, my little lamb?"

 "Yes, my wolf." You purred seductively at him and witnessed in delight his transformation before your eyes.

***

Comment, like and reblog are highly desirable! Spread the filthiness lol 💋

[maria-scribbles]

loyalty’s all i got | part two

three years ago, you had it all: great friends, good grades, and an almost perfect relationship with your boyfriend, jj. it all came crashing down when your mom relocated your family to california for work and you were forced to trade the outer banks for malibu, leaving your broken heart behind in the place you were just starting to think of as home. now you're back in town for college and to pick up the pieces, hoping to make things right again with your friends and the boy you never stopped loving.

word count: 8.6k+

ship: jj maybank x female!reader, pogue friendship

warnings n stuff: angst angst angst all around (with a happy ending tho!!), the reader being a v. sad girl, mentions of anxiety/depression, failed long distance relationship, drifting apart, self-inflicted loneliness/isolation, the classic trope of 'they broke up but they're still in love with each other' that gives me feels, swearing (it's not my writing unless someone says 'fuck' at least once), reconciliation/mended relationships, traditional cheesy rom-com rain scene 'cause i'm a Dramatic Hoe™

a/n: and here's the second and final part of this looooong two-shot! thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoy the finale even though i low key kind of hate it 🙃. fun fact: surfrider beach is a real place in malibu known for its great waves :) also i apologize for how long this took to post, i dropped my laptop and the screen broke so i had to wait for it to get fixed lmao. unbetaed as usual, any mistakes are my b. 

~masterlist~

part two: like a ghost that no one knew

When you said goodbye to your friends three years ago, you should've known things would never be the same again. You were sixteen, still so young and naïve and full of an almost childlike hope that kept you from seeing the obvious: life wasn't fair. Sometimes, you could be holding all the right cards and still lose the game.

It should've been easy. You had a video chat schedule already figured out, promises of daily texts and Snapchats, a boyfriend willing -enthusiastically willing, in fact- to go long distance and make it work no matter what 'cause you both agreed that what you had was something worth fighting for. You and your friends had weathered many storms together, what was one more? It could've been easy but you underestimated just how cruel California would be.

You traded one coast for the other and watched the sun set over the Pacific alone when you would've given anything to watch it rise over the Atlantic with your friends. It hurt to surf solo but you did it anyway, even though it felt like a damn sucker punch each time you caught yourself scanning the sand for JJ and his proud smile when you successfully caught bigger and bigger waves at Surfrider Beach. 

Long distance was hard. You had days where all you wanted to do was lay on your bed for hours, safely curled up in his arms as he ran his fingers through your hair but you had to settle for his voice over the phone and one of his shirts from your closet instead. You missed everything about him: his pretty eyes that looked like the clearest ocean, the cheeky grin he'd send your way after making a stupid joke that had you affectionately rolling your eyes in exasperation, that adorable flush that spread across his face without fail each and every time you said you loved him. You longed for his constant affection; the way he always wanted to keep you close somehow, his arm around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers entwined with yours; how he could never go a day without kissing you. Being apart was nothing short of torture.

"I fucking miss you." He said late one night during a rare FaceTime session -his phone was a piece of shit so he had to 'borrow' John B's whenever he could- and you smiled despite the knife twisting itself deeper and deeper into your heart as you played with the fraying sleeve of his old sweatshirt you wore. 

"I fucking miss you more, J." You whispered back, giggling quietly when he scrunched up his nose in playful skepticism. 

"Yeah, I don't think so, babe. There's no way." 

"Yes, way!"

Although it hurt like hell, you imagined being tangled up with him in the hammock hanging in the Chateau's yard under the North Carolina sky -the light from the moon would turn his blond hair a pale silver as he grinned down at you and cupped your cheek in his hand, closing that final distance between you for a kiss that'd fuel the fire racing through your veins- and you let that fleeting happiness carry you through the night, long after you said goodbye. You fell asleep with your phone in your hand, unaware that your mother had been listening from the other side of your closed door.

You'd been distant from her and your dad in the months since the move, obviously going out of your way to avoid them both by spending all your spare time surfing at the beach, coming home well past sunset and heading straight to your room without a word. They'd taught you forgiveness wasn't something to be given willingly -it had to be earned- and since neither of them had done anything worthy to deserve an absolution, you simply pretended they didn't exist and let yourself stew in your justified anger.

Until the morning after your video date with JJ, they'd wisely given you your space so you were pretty blind sighted to find them both waiting for you at the dining room table, one of your dad's famous cinnamon rolls on a plate set in front of your usual chair. You paused in the middle of tying one of your boyfriend's worn bandanas in your hair before abruptly continuing toward the front door, acting like you didn't see the hopeful looks on their faces that made guilt slowly start to burrow its way into your chest. 

"Y/N, wait," Your dad sprung from his seat and reached his hand out toward your elbow, his face falling when you instantly pulled back and crossed your arms. "Please, let's just talk for a second."

"I'm gonna be late for the bus," You lied and tried for the door again, sighing in frustration when he blocked your path and ushered you toward the table where your mom was sitting, biting her thumbnail. The guilt burrowed deeper: you thought she kicked that habit years ago but there she was, chewing her nail to shreds and it was all because of you (the empty satisfaction you felt knowing you were the cause of her stress made you hate yourself just a little more.).

"Jellybean, don't worry about that. I'll drive you." 

You bristled at the old nickname but sat in the chair your dad pulled out for you anyway. The smell of the cinnamon roll he pushed your way made your mouth water but you refused to eat and kept your eyes down as you played with the stack of bracelets adorning your wrist. "You wanted to talk?" You asked, deciding to just rip the band-aid off all at once 'cause knowing your mom when she was anxious and your dad being allergic to any type of confrontation, you'd have sat there all day until one of them worked up the courage to speak.

"Talk, right." Bill said with a nervous chuckle, shaking his head as he took a seat and swiped his own cinnamon roll from the pan in the middle of the table. "Uh, how are you?"

"Are you serious right now?" You asked incredulously, looking up from your lap with a raised eyebrow. "All this for 'how are you?'" 

"How would we know?" Your mom finally spoke up as she pulled her ruined nail from her mouth, only to start instantly drumming her fingers on the table. "You're always holed up in your room or at the beach, Y/N. You never talk to us anymore."

You rolled your eyes before fixing her with a deadpan stare. "Hmm, I wonder why."

"Honey, you know I'm sorry-"

"Don't, okay? Just don't." You swallowed thickly and dumped the cinnamon roll back into the pan, blinking away the awful burning pressure building behind your eyes. "I can't listen to some half-assed apology that you don't mean!"

"Y/N, we are sorry. Everything's gonna get better, just give it time." Your dad's reply was muffled by a mouthful of pastry and any other time, you'd usually be laughing at his chipmunk cheeks but instead you just stared back down at your hands again, lip quivering as you tried and failed to hold yourself together. You would not cry. You would not cry. You would not-

"Please, honey." Your mom tentatively reached out one hand like she was approaching a wounded animal, her voice so soft you could barely hear it above the rush of blood in your ears. "It hurts us to see you like this-"

Oh, fuck this shit.

"You're hurt?! Are you kidding me?" Your chair scraped along the tile as you rocketed to your feet, vision blurring when the dam finally broke. "You promised we wouldn't move again until after I graduated and you broke that promise. I let myself make friends for once in my goddamn life -I fucking fell in love, Mom! I fell in love with the most amazing boy who, by some miracle loves me, too despite me being a...a complete loser!" You were rambling now but you couldn't find it in yourself to care about or stop the words flying from your mouth. 

"God, I was happy -so, so disgustingly happy it kind of scared me, okay?" You laughed bitterly and roughly wiped the tears from your cheeks, only to have more immediately take their place. "And you didn't even stop to think before you took it all away from me! So don't even talk to me about being hurt 'cause you have no fucking idea!"

Your dad was frozen, eyes the same color as your own blown impossibly wide in the middle of another bite of cinnamon roll while your mom, two tears streaking perfect twin tracks down her cheeks, looked at you like you'd just told her the world was ending -to her, it just might've been but to you, it already had. Neither of them said another word as you snatched your backpack off the couch and stormed from the house, slamming the door behind you.

Halfway to the bus stop, you decided school just wasn't in the cards that day and doubled back, hiding behind the shed in your backyard until your tears had run dry and both of your parents left -Rebekah to the hospital, Bill to wherever he went while you were in class- before heading inside to change into your rash vest and grab your board. Despite it being early Friday morning, Surfrider Beach was full of life and you welcomed the hustle and bustle as you turned off your phone and buried it at the bottom of your bag, leaving your problems behind on the sand. 

You spent the whole day at the beach, blissfully alone and free to do what you wanted, until the sun dipped low in the sky and you were too exhausted to even think about anything but dragging yourself home so you could pass the fuck out. You caught one final wave before heading back to shore, waving goodbye to the group of other kids you'd surfed with all day (the one thing you loved about California: everyone was so chill) and trudged through the sand toward your things where, just as you expected, your sister sat on your towel, clad in a baggy UCLA long-sleeve with her phone in hand. 

"Bitch, you killed it out there!" She looked up as you dropped your board to the ground and sat down heavily beside her, slipping an old Kildare County High School sweatshirt -the first one you ever 'borrowed' from your boyfriend, much to his delight- over your head. "I mean, look at you go!"

You leaned closer to watch the video she took, the barest hint of a smile on your face when you watched yourself perform a near perfect cutback on the screen. "That's 'cause I had the best teacher." 

Daisy tagged you and posted it to Instagram before you could protest, then tossed the phone back into her bag and turned to you with a forced cheerfulness that kind of made you want to smack her. "So..."

"Mom and Dad sent you to clean up their mess." You finished quietly, tucking your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as your sister sighed dramatically and offered a sympathetic wince. 

"As always." She copied your position and you both stared out at the sun sinking over the water, its fading rays turning the sky brilliant shades of orange and pink. It was typical of your parents to send Daisy after you when you were upset -after all, you'd both been each other's only friend for over half your lives- and normally, you'd be glad to see your sister's friendly face instead of your mom's or dad's. That evening, though? All you felt was...disappointment.

"Guess they really don't give a shit about me." You mumbled under your breath, half-hoping Daisy didn't hear you but from the way she snapped her head in your direction, you didn't get your wish.

"Y/N, that's not it. They're just..."

"Just what? Pretending that they didn't stab me in the back? Acting like everything's all hunky-dory and they actually cared about my feelings?" 

You hastily wiped at your face when your sister silently looped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you against her side, her fingers running soothingly through the ends of your damp hair as you vented all of your frustrations -everything you'd kept locked deep inside your heart- until your voice was hoarse and the sun had long disappeared from the horizon and you had no tears left to cry.

"You have no idea what it's like, being so lonely it hurts to breathe. It hurts knowing Mom and Dad have each other and you have Daniel and I'm alone all the time." You lifted your head from her shoulder and rubbed your red eyes with your sleeve. "Worst part is, they just keep acting like I'll wake up one day and magically be okay and everything'll be all sunshine and rainbows again." 

"First off, I wanna say that I'm sorry for not making more time for you. I knew you were struggling and I'm a terrible big sister for not being here for you like I should have," You squeezed Daisy's other hand in thanks as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, her voice soft and steady like the waves crashing against the shore. "Second, I definitely don't think Mom and Dad are handling this the way they should, but I think they're trying in the only way they know how. That should count for something, right?"

You sighed and tugged the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands. "I guess, but they haven't even tried to see where I'm coming from and they don't get that I'm not the only one they hurt. If I have to hear one more half-assed apology, I'm gonna lose my shit. Again."

"I'm not saying you have to forgive them right away 'cause I sure as hell wouldn't until they say they're sorry and mean it. But..." She said, pulling you to your feet and shaking the sand from the towel you were sitting on, "you shouldn't keep shutting them out, okay? It's not healthy."

You tucked your board under your arm as Daisy grabbed your bag and swung it onto her shoulder before you both started walking toward the parking lot. "What if I'm never ready to forgive them?"

"That's a question I don't have the answer to." She said with a shrug. "You've gotta figure that one out for yourself."

So you followed your sister's advice. You were civil and gradually, your relationship with your parents improved until you could stand to be in the same room as them and even carry on a short conversation, even though you knew you'd probably never be able to fully trust them again. You caught them exchanging glances you could only describe as wounded when you often turned down their invitations to go to the movies or get ice cream or other things you used to love doing when you were younger but for the most part, they took it in stride and you were grateful for their little efforts. Forgiveness wasn't in the cards quite yet but with each passing day, you felt the icy wall around your heart slowly start to melt away.

But every time you thought you were taking one step forward, life pushed you two steps back. Just when you were getting things back on track with your family, the train went flying off the rails when it came to your friends and it was all your fault.

It wasn't like you didn't try -God, did you try- to keep yourself from falling back into old habits but Malibu just had a way of bringing out the absolute worst in you. Your old self, the girl who kept to herself and pushed everyone away, someone you thought you buried in the deepest grave, slowly came back from the dead with a vengeance little by little, so subtly you didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. 

One missed phone call turned into two, texts went unanswered for days or not at all, FaceTime sessions happened less and less. The last video chat had been with Kiara and it ended terribly, after you blew up at her for mending her friendship with Sarah Cameron in the near two years since you'd been gone, spitting words you couldn't quite remember -something along the lines of 'didn't take you too long to replace me, huh' and calling the blonde girl a 'heinous bitch'- but knew you regretted with everything you had and hanging up before she had a chance to explain. You couldn't even recall the last time you talked to Pope or John B aside from the occasional Snapchat and your daily calls with JJ had turned to once a week, if you were lucky.

He was trying, you could tell, and so were you but the deck was stacked against you and you were never very good at cards, anyway. It hurt to try, it hurt not to try, everything just hurt. Nearly two years apart had done their damage and coupled with your debilitating fear of being forgotten that clawed at your chest like a rabid dog, your relationship was on unstable ground and for the first time in almost four years, you were thinking about the end. It wasn't like you didn't love him anymore (holy shit, were you still completely head over heels in love). In fact, you loved him so much you realized that he could do so, so much better than you and the thought rested heavy and bittersweet on your mind, lurking in the shadows until you were ready to bring it to light.

It happened on New Year's Eve. Alone in your room, your hands shook as you answered JJ's call at midnight, his voice tired and a little hoarse from celebrating the new year three hours earlier on the opposite coast and you nearly started crying right then and there when you replied with a shaky "I think we need to talk."

"Babe, what's wrong?"

You took a deep breath and said quietly, "Everything."

"Talk to me." The pure concern in those three words nearly convinced you to call it off, to tell him to forget you said anything and that you were fine, everything was just fine but deep down, you knew you couldn't.

"I've been thinking about us and I...I just think that you deserve better than me. Someone who can actually be there for you when you need her and hold you when your dad's an asshole and see you every day. Someone who can laugh at your silly jokes and share a joint with you and clean you up when you get into fights defending your friends-"

"Babe, what are you talking about? That girl is you."

"Maybe I was but I'm not anymore and I don't think I have been since I left. I just can't be the girl you want, I can't be the girl you deserve, J -I'm a total fucking mess and you can do so, so much better than me."

"Y/N."

You didn't know you were crying until you heard the broken way he breathed your name and salt water dripped from your chin onto the bracelet around your wrist. 

"...are you breaking up with me?" His voice was impossibly small, the quietest you'd ever heard it and the exact moment your battered heart shattered into pieces was when you realized he didn't even put up a fight. 

"I think so." The words tore through you like a gunshot as you cried, curling into yourself on the bed in an effort to ward off the worst pain you'd ever felt in your life and you wondered if it was possible to die from a wound that wasn't even physical. 

He was quiet for a long time, so long you thought he hung up without you noticing through your tears, until he sniffed on the other end of the line.

"Guess we had a pretty good run, huh?" He asked with a watery chuckle and you found yourself giving a tiny, shuddering giggle in response -God, even when you were breaking his heart he still managed to make you laugh.

"The best, baby." The pet name slipped out like second nature and you winced, hastily trying to cover your mistake with an awkward cough but from the sharp breath you heard him take, he'd heard it anyway.

("I'm sorry," you said, and it stood as an apology for more than just your slip-up.)

"I love you, Y/N. Probably always will."

"I'll never stop loving you, JJ. That's a promise."

You let yourself believe him as you laid there bleeding from a gash you couldn't see, a wound you knew would never heal, and you hoped he let himself believe you, too, even when you ended the call without another word and threw your phone away from you, not bothering to see where it landed. The sound of your heavy, broken sobs filled the room and you didn't even mind when your mom, who you knew had been listening from the other side of your closed door like always, barged in and took you into her arms, stroking your hair as you cried into her lap.

If you were supposed to avoid getting hurt by leaving first, why did it feel like everything in you was broken? If you were making the right choice, why did it feel so wrong? You didn't have the answers and no matter how hard you searched, you knew you'd ever find them.  

So you tried to stay busy. You joined the surf club at school, got a part-time job at the local aquarium, did anything you could to distract yourself from the hurt and the guilt and the way getting out of bed every morning was the hardest thing to do. Surf club introduced you to Mackenzie, the one girl who was more ostracized at school -an even richer version of the kook academy you hated -than you, her for being freakishly tall and you for your East Coast attitude, and the two of you became fast, if reluctant friends. Mack didn't try to stitch the gaping hole in your heart caused by your absent friends but she numbed the pain just enough to make it bearable and you were grateful for her calm, steady presence at your side, even as you both tried to keep each other at arm's length.  

Later, you found out she was just like you, friendless and awkward with no self-esteem and a tendency to push people away, and that just cemented your friendship through the summer and your final year of high school.

Mack told you all about her life, growing up with no siblings, having height that she never learned to deal with, and a debilitating social anxiety that made making friends near impossible, and in turn you told her about how you hopped from town to town on your mother's whims, the wonderful friends you let slip away, and the beautiful boyfriend you loved enough to let go, and you both cried together for the lives you could've led.

"You two looked so happy," She said during the first sleepover you hosted as she held one of the many picture frames littering your dresser, her lips turned upwards in a small smile.

You gently took the frame from her hands and ran your fingers over the grinning face of your ex-boyfriend, his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your painted lips planted a deep red kiss on his cheek, and the wave of longing washing over you was almost strong enough to bring you to your knees. "It was the happiest I've ever been."

"Do you miss him?"

"So much it hurts."

i miss you.

i'm so sorry.

i still love you.

You'd typed and erased those texts every day but never mustered the courage to hit send and you couldn't decide if that was a blessing in disguise or the worst possible curse. Of course you still loved JJ: you promised you would and even if you didn't, you couldn't stop if you tried. He was your first love, the boy you so willingly gave your whole heart and then some; you still kept his ring on your thumb -the one he gave you at the airport the day you left- and his bracelet around your wrist, his bandanas in your hair and his face in your dreams and you knew you always would.

Before you could blink, your eighteenth birthday flew by and graduation was upon you.

You thought the second you were done with high school you'd be gone, heading straight back to the Outer Banks and the life you left behind but you found yourself stalling on sending in an application to UNC -Chapel Hill until you missed the deadline for the fall semester. On the outside, you made up a semi-legit excuse about getting your basic courses done at a community college to save money but deep down you really knew why you procrastinated: you were terrified to go back. Ever since your break up with JJ, you hadn't spoken to him or any of your old friends other than the obligatory birthday wishes on Facebook and you wondered if the damage you'd done over the years was too much to come back from, even as you tried to work up the courage to find out for sure.

Another year passed: in between earning college credits, you and Daisy took a sister's trip to Disneyland, Mack asked you to tag along on a jaunt up the coast to San Francisco to see Alcatraz, your parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary (your gift was long-overdue forgiveness and they said it was the greatest thing you possibly could've given them). When the time came, you and Mack both sent out your applications to UNC -you for biology, her for chemistry- and the myriad of emotions you felt when you got in was nothing short of dizzying. The old you was terrified, screaming at you to rip up the letter and join your sister at UCLA instead of opening old wounds but the hopeful you, the girl who lived without fear, the girl who fell in love and let herself be loved, screamed louder.

And so you killed the old you once again, burying her even deeper than the last time in a locked chest and throwing the key as far as you could out into the Pacific where you knew you'd never find it. You clutched your acceptance letter close to your chest and took a step east, away from California and toward the place where your broken heart still rested, scattered in pieces across the sand.

Settling in at UNC was surprisingly easy. You and Mack already clicked pretty well as friends so making the transition to roommates was natural and, dare you say it, even a little fun and the two of you quickly fell into a comfortable routine in your tiny apartment off campus in Chapel Hill. Comfortable and yet...that happiness you once felt all those years ago was missing from your life and you found yourself just as restless as you were in Malibu. While you knew exactly what you needed to do, that fear kept rearing its ugly head in the back of your mind, poisoning your thoughts: what if they wouldn't be happy to see you, what if they forgot about you, what if they hated you? What if he hated you?

It was terrifying, picturing yourself turning up at the Chateau with a hopeful smile only to have the door slammed right in your face. Deep down, you knew they'd never do that to you no matter how badly you'd hurt them but when you'd spent your whole life expecting the worst, taking a leap of faith wasn't an easy feat -something Mack just couldn't wrap her head around.

"I don't get it."

You glanced up from where you were lounging on your bed, flipping through your biology notes in preparation for your lab exam the next morning and shot your roommate a confused look. "Get what?”

Mack sat at your desk, her own notebooks lying ignored as she spun the chair around to face you, arms crossed. "Why you haven't hopped on that ferry to go get your man yet!"

You froze for a moment too long before offering a half-hearted shrug as you fiddled with the beads at the end of your bracelet. "It's not that easy. He probably wants nothing to do with me and I don't blame him."

"How do you know? You haven't talked to JJ in over a year, right?" At your tight nod, she continued, "What if he's just like you-"

"Depressed?"

Mack fixed you with a flat, unamused look. "Still in love, dumbass."

You scoffed and propped your chin in your hand as you glanced back down at your study guide, trying not to latch onto that little thought -hope and pain all rolled into one- that sparked to life at her words. He'd said he would probably always love you that New Year's Eve and back then you'd let yourself believe him but now, you weren't so sure. "Yeah, right. No way he's still...still in love with me after I broke his heart."

"Maybe he is, maybe he isn't," Your roommate said with a shrug, spinning around on the chair to grab her things. "You'll never know if you don't get over there, track his fine ass down, and talk to him."

You stared down at your notes without actually seeing anything, the slanted letters of your handwriting blurring before your eyes as the other girl flipped her chemistry book closed and stood, shooting you an warm smile that you didn't see. 

"Listen, Y/N, you're my best friend and I want to see you happy more than anything but I can't take that jump for you. Yeah, it's scary and nerve wracking and you might end up hurt worse than before, so what? That's just...life."

Mack left after that, crossing the apartment to her room so she could get ready for a date with a girl from her psych class, leaving you alone with tears on your face and a million thoughts in your head, all of them terrifying and exciting and oh so loud.

She was right, of course -Mack always knew the right thing to say- and as you stared down at the bracelets on your wrists and the ring on your thumb, the pictures on your phone and the too-big shirt hanging off one shoulder, you realized sitting around moping wasn't gonna solve anything; if you wanted your happiness, your friends, the love of your life back, you needed to step up and fight for them with everything you had. And so you wiped the tears from your cheeks and walked to the cliff's edge with your head held high, ready for the fall and whatever came with it. You were ready to fix your mistakes, no matter how badly it might hurt.

Still, you couldn't do it all on your own. You needed some help to make things right again and while you knew just who to ask, you weren't quite sure if they'd be willing to lend a hand. Desperate times called for desperate measures though and you penned a good old-fashioned letter, feeling like a heroine in a Jane Austen novel as you poured all your thoughts -your dreams, wishes, hopes- onto a piece of paper in bold blue ink and sent it off to its destination on Figure 8, your Hail Mary for a happy ending sealed up neatly in a single envelope.

Mack, bless her heart, did her best to keep your spirits up as you waited on a response but even her ever reassuring presence couldn't keep you from worrying as one week passed by, then two. Halfway through the third you'd almost given up, already wracking your brain for another way to make your plan work when your phone chimed with a text from an unknown number.

i'll help you

And just like that, the moment you'd been waiting for was finally within your reach; you told your parents not to expect you for Thanksgiving break, called your sister for a much needed pep talk, and started counting down the days until you'd see your friends again, for better or worse.

When you left the Outer Banks three years ago, it was sunny. You were sixteen, young and in love and scared about the future.

When you returned, it was in the middle of a storm. You were nineteen, a little bit older but no less in love and definitely still scared about what was waiting for you at the end of the road.

Rain pounded against the roof of Sarah Cameron's SUV as she drove away from the docks and toward the Chateau, her fingers tapping along to the music playing quietly through the radio. You sat in the passenger seat, soaked to the bone from your ferry ride from the mainland and shaking like a leaf despite the towel wrapped around your shoulders and the warm air flowing from the car's vents.

"Thanks for coming to get me," You said, wincing at the awkward lilt of your voice echoing in the small space as you spun JJ's ring around your thumb and stared out the windshield at the familiar sights streaking by in blurred shades of green and brown. Being back opened a Pandora's box of emotions in your head, both good and bad, and instead of trying to sort them out, you let them bounce around in your brain like a pinball machine and concentrated on methodically twirling the warm metal ring in circles on your finger.

Sarah briefly glanced away from the road to shoot you a small smile, her kind eyes softening at your visible nervousness. "Not gonna lie, I was pretty sure you hated me so when I got your letter it kinda...threw me for a loop. Sorry it took me so long to reply."

You wished the heated leather seat would swallow you whole as you winced again and wrapped the towel tighter around your shoulders. "For the longest time, I thought I did hate you but I realized I was just...scared of losing my friends and I took it out on you. You didn't deserve to be labeled the villain in my story when I was the one, um, sabotaging myself, I guess." You took a deep breath and picked at a loose thread tickling your arm. "And I'm really, really grateful for your help."

It was more than you wanted to admit out loud -nearly the same words were written in the letter peeking out from the center console of the car- but at the same time, you knew it was what needed to be said and from the way the blonde girl's fingers stopped tapping against the steering wheel, she knew she needed to hear it. At a red light, she quickly tapped out a text on her phone before tossing in back into her bag with another tiny grin in your direction.

"Happy to help. For what it's worth, I'm so sorry if I made you feel like you were being replaced, I never intended to hurt you or steal your friends or...or, I don't know, usurp-" 

"Sarah, stop. Please," You held up a hand to cut off her apology and offered her a self-deprecating smile. "I'm the one who's sorry. I let my...jealousy get the best of me and I feel so bad about all the shit I said 'cause that wasn't fair to you at all and I hope you can forgive me-"

"Y/N, there's nothing to forgive! We all say stupid shit when we're mad -trust me, I know." She interrupted with a bubbly, contagious giggle that seemed to scare away the gloomy storm clouds gathered over your head for a moment in time. "But I was never pissed at you, ever. I just want you to know that."

Stunned, you settled deeper into the seat and started playing with your ring again as she kept driving on, unbothered by your lack of response. You felt like you were thirteen again, back when Sarah and Kiara were your only friends, before the birthday disaster and the whole pogue versus kook feud that got completely out of hand; it felt...nice and you found yourself hoping that the blonde girl would still want to be your friend again, no matter what the others thought about your sudden return. 

"Thank you."

Sarah gave no indication she heard your quiet confession of gratitude but from the way you watched her smile grow out of the corner of your eye, you knew she did. The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence as you retreated into your own thoughts, your nerves getting worse and worse the closer you got to your destination.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nose, feeling like your heart was trying to beat its way through your rib cage. You hadn't been this anxious in a long, long time, so long you almost forgot how much you hated the tightness in your chest, how your palms would start to sweat, the way you'd chew the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood on your tongue. By the time Sarah pulled into an open spot beside the achingly familiar Volkswagen parked in front of the Chateau, you were surprised you were still able to breathe.

The sight of the tiny house, one you spent so many carefree days and beautiful nights in alongside your friends, standing virtually unchanged in front of you was like a shot to the heart and your hands, curled into fists on your lap, began to shake without warning. Shit, you were a godforsaken mess; how the hell were you supposed to do this without having a mental breakdown?

"I'm so scared."

The whispered words, barely audible over the torrential rain against the roof, slipped from your mouth before you could stop them and Sarah slowly reached one hand over to give your trembling wrist a reassuring squeeze, the corners of her mouth curled upward in a slight smile.

"Don't be. They're gonna be so happy to see you!"

You turned to look at her, eyebrows knit together in disbelief. "How are you so sure they still care about me?"

"I'm sure 'cause I've seen it. My God, if only you could've heard all the times they talked about you -'I wish Y/N was here,' 'remember that time with Y/N,' hell, just straight 'I miss Y/N so fucking much,'" She said bluntly and shifted in the driver's seat to face you head on, smiling wider at the thunderstruck look on your face. "Pretty sure I haven't gone a week without JJ saying that last one at least once." 

"I thought..." You paused, tongue darting out to run over your dry lips as you tried to put your jumbled feelings into words, "I thought he'd hate me -I mean, after all I've done, you think he still..."

"Loves you? Are you kidding?" Her reply was so enthusiastic it was hard not to believe her as she went on, her words like sunshine brightening the darkest corners of your mind. "He's still head over heels, I've never seen him even look at another girl in three damn years. You know he still wears your necklace, the one with the silver star? Kie told me all about it."

"I-I didn't." You remembered giving it to him the day you left, managing a shaky smile through your tears as you carefully clasped it around his neck, your fingers running over his skin as you settled the charm perfectly alongside that little shark tooth you'd grown to love.

('Be careful with this, baby. It's my favorite.' You had said, crying harder when he'd taken off one of his rings and slipped it onto your thumb.

'Well, this one's my favorite so take good care of it, okay?' His voice had been light but his eyes were heavy with unspoken words that you'd heard loud and clear because you knew your gaze said the exact same things.

don't let me go

don't break my heart

don't stop loving me)

You coughed to disguise the fat tears that started rolling down your face, quickly wiping them away with your sleeve but the blonde girl wasn't fooled as she gave your hand another friendly squeeze.

"Come on, they're probably wondering what's taking me so long," She sent a conspiratorial wink your way and grabbed her bag from the center console. "I told them I was picking up some pizzas but I have a funny feeling they won't be too pissed that I lied."

With a desperate grip on the strap of your backpack and your heart racing, you trailed behind Sarah through the rain to the front porch. 

"Ready?" She glanced back where you lingered at the top of the stairs, anxiously shuffling from foot to foot, and shot you a smile that did little to calm your nerves. "Just wait here!"

She knocked on the door before you could reply and yelled loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain, "Hey, it's me! Can somebody get the door? My hands are kinda full."

"Got it!"

Your bag slipped from your fingers and fell onto the porch with a loud thump at the sound of the voice floating through the open windows, a voice you heard nearly every night as you slept, in your dreams of a future you wanted with everything you had. You knew it better than your knew your own, knew every pitch and tone and lilt; quiet and raspy in the mornings when you woke up in each other's arms, loud and carefree during long days spent under the golden sun with the rest of your friends, soft and warm and laid bare at night when he showed how much he loved you with more than just words.

Sarah gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up before stepping to the side just as the door opened and you suddenly found yourself struggling to breathe as you stared into the wide blue eyes of your ex-boyfriend. JJ stared right back, one of the hands you used to hold clenched so tight around the doorknob his knuckles were white, the lips you used to kiss parted in surprise, the blond hair you used to run your fingers through falling onto his forehead like always and the familiar, beautiful sight of him standing close enough to touch made your knees weak.

"You're not pizza."

It was such a JJ thing to say and you didn't know whether to laugh or cry as you swallowed thickly and shook your head. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not."

"Oh."

Hope flared white hot in your chest at his words but it quickly started to fade, replaced by fear when he made no move toward you, his fingers still gripping tight to the door, and you felt your face start to heat in embarrassment as Sarah looked back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. 

God, you were so stupid. What did you expect would happen, showing up out of the blue after over a year of no contact? Everything would fall into place again with just one long, heavy look? Believing it could be that easy turned you into a complete and total fool, tongue-tied and insecure and weak.

"Yo, what's the hold up?" John B's voice asked from inside the house and Sarah leaned down to call through the open window, "Come out here and find out!"

A wave of dizziness hit you like a truck and you took a sudden step back toward the stairs, arms wrapping around your stomach as it twisted itself into knots. "I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have come. This was a mistake." You didn't notice the stricken look that crossed JJ's face or the three familiar, stunned expressions that appeared behind him in the darkened doorway before turning away and stumbling off the porch toward the road, leaving your bag behind and you definitely didn't notice how you barely made it off the bottom stair before a set of footsteps hastily gave chase. 

"It wasn't a mistake, Y/N!" JJ's desperate voice stopped you in your tracks, halfway across the yard with more than just rain running down your face. "Not to me, never to me."

His soft touch on your wrist sent shockwaves through your body and you instantly became putty in his hands, letting him turn you around without a fight to face him, watching in fascination as the downpour started to darken his gray shirt and flatten his hair against his forehead. Three years hadn't changed much about him -he was a little taller, hair a little longer, the muscles in his arms a little more defined- and when you met his wide-eyed gaze, beads of rain dripping from his long eyelashes like diamonds, you wondered if he was thinking about the differences time created between the younger you of the past and the you of the right now, too.

"Oh." You repeated dumbly, struggling for something, anything to say that didn't make you sound like an illiterate fool. Even at nineteen, words still weren't your strong suit so you let your actions speak for you as your hand reached out on its own accord to caress the silver star still clasped around his neck, the thumb still wearing his ring brushing slowly against the dip between his collarbones; he shivered, and you weren't really sure if it was from your touch or the cold. 

"Y/N." JJ said your name like a prayer, like he couldn't believe you were there in front of him, and you inhaled sharply when both of his hands slowly, carefully moved to cup your face, his calloused thumbs habitually wiping the tears from your cheeks over and over, even as more instantly replaced the ones he swept away. "I fucking missed you."

You stood there, looking like a damned drowned rat with your hair dripping into your eyes, shivering in your soaked jeans and Kildare County High School sweatshirt, the love of your life cradling your face so gently in his hands, and so many things you wanted to say flooding your brain but only the one that mattered the most managed to get by your trembling lips.  

"I'm still in love with you." 

You noticed a lot when you put your heart on the line: the steady, soothing sound of water falling through the trees, the bright, clean taste of rain on your tongue, how the sun was just barely starting to peek out from behind the stormy clouds, but they all paled in comparison to the little things you noticed about the boy in front of you; blue irises made even brighter by the red rimming his eyes, how he stepped closer on the wet grass until the tips of his scuffed boots touched your worn gray high tops, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly against your flushed face. 

"Well, it's your lucky day 'cause I'm still in love with you, too."

All of the breath left your lungs in one big rush when JJ smiled hopefully -oh, how you loved everything about that smile: his slightly crooked teeth, that dimple in his cheek, the endearing pink blush swept across his nose- and you felt yourself return it without a second thought, your own hope once again burning bright in your chest.

"Even after...everything?" Your voice shook like the fingers you slid into the hair at his nape and he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, close enough you could feel his breath on your lips when he spoke.

"I told you I'd always love you, didn't I?"

You nodded, a delicious shiver running down your spine when he tilted his head just so and gently bumped your nose with his. You remembered all the times he did that through the years, a dizzying slideshow of memories that flashed through your mind like lightning, and your fingers wove themselves deeper in his hair. 

"I have so many things to apologize for," You said with a tiny, quiet shake of your head, tearing your eyes away from his in shame and staring over his shoulder toward where the rest of your friends watched from the porch, all crowded together at the top of the stairs with identical enthralled expressions on their faces. "There are so many mistakes I've made and people I've hurt and I have no idea how to even start saying sorry for it all." 

"Babe."

The sound of your old pet name caused your gaze to snap right back to his and your heart felt like it was about to beat right out of your chest when one of his hands trailed down the sensitive skin of your neck and then lower until it traced along the curve of your hip and left a line of fire in its wake.

"We'll figure that out later, okay?" JJ said as his fingers tucked a loose strand of wet hair behind your ear, a coy, ardent grin on his face. "'Cause I've been waiting three years to kiss you again and if I don't get to do it soon, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

You smiled -a wide, joyful, elated smile- and rose up on your tiptoes in anticipation. "Then kiss me." 

You didn't have to tell him twice. His lips pressed against yours desperately, like he needed you to breathe, like you were the very air in his lungs, religiously, like your mouth was the altar and he was there to worship as he pulled you close, the fingers of one hand tangling in your hair while the others dug into your hip. You kissed him back just as hard and the familiar taste of him on your tongue -mint, smoke, salt- sent that dearly missed spark racing through your veins like wildfire.

It was a little cliché, having your long-awaited reunion kiss in the rain but it was honest and candid and real and so much better than anything you could've dreamed. You lost yourself in his touch like you used to, clinging to him like a lifeline and pouring your whole heart into every fierce brush of your lips against his, both of you pulling away for a moment only to dive right back in each time. It was addictive, intoxicating, and you could've spent the rest of your life standing there in the middle of the yard and kissing like there was no tomorrow if a loud, ear-piercing wolf whistle hadn't come from the direction of the porch.

The two of you broke apart just barely, with foreheads still pressed together and swollen lips, and you couldn't stop yourself from giggling when JJ blindly flipped the bird over his shoulder before pulling you back in for another eager kiss that filled your whole body with an exhilarating, heavenly heat that never faded, even after four enthusiastic voices suddenly surrounded you like an excited swarm of nosy, buzzing bees.

"You aren't the only one who missed her, J." Kiara said, smiling widely as you reached out to grab her hand and pull her into a powerful one-armed hug, her chin resting on your shoulder.

"Yeah, stop hogging all the love!" John B added, throwing himself into the pile along with Pope, who slung an arm around your shoulders as he said, "Great to have you back, Y/N."

Sarah was the last to join and she quietly tucked herself under John B's arm with a pleased grin on her face, nodding when you mouthed 'thank you' in her direction. The six of you stood there in the rain, smiling like fools, and as the sun started to scare away the dark clouds overhead and in your heart, a weight you didn't even realize had been crushing your chest slowly began to lift away with each freeing breath. 

You still had a lot of work to do: wrongs to be righted, apologies to be made, explanations -not excuses- to be given for every shitty thing you did in your past. But as happy tears started streaming down your face once again and you felt the arms of the friends you’d thought were lost to you forever tighten around you at the sight, you knew in your bones all would be forgiven. You knew that after three long years, you'd finally come home.

-

let me know what you think! i read each and every one of your comments and cry because they mean so much to me! ❤

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves​ @cordeliascrown​ @maysbanks​ @jjpogueprincess​ @bibliophilewednesday​ @k-n-e​ @jiaraendgame​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @heypearce​ @sexualparkour​ (send me an ask if you’d like to be added or removed!)

[uh-drarry]

Day 26 - Snow Shovel

This is from the wonderful list posted by @remus-john-lupin ! This is unbetaed, sorry for any mistakes. 

These are within the universe of my other content, but you do not have to read those to understand these. I won’t be making them all within the same time period but they’ll take place in different years of the same au. This one takes place while Wolfstar is married. Happy December and Happy Holidays!

“I’m not even sure I know where the snow shovel is. It’s probably a good thing that we’re not home right now.” Sirius chuckled as he checked the news from home on his phone. There was a big storm that was blowing through their town overnight, but they had, conveniently, left for their honeymoon the day before. 

“The beach is definitely better than a snow storm. Also seeing you in a swimsuit.” Remus said with a grin, pushing his sunglasses down his nose to look Sirius up and down.

“Oh? Shall I flex for you?” Sirius laughed, sitting up in his lounger to pose for his husband like a swimsuit model in some sports magazine.

When he stopped and settled back into his chair, Remus pouted, “I wasn’t done ogling, babe.”

Sirius laughed loudly at his husband. “Would it be better if I did this?” he asked, getting up to straddle Remus’s lap and lean over him. 

“Much better. But you can come closer.”

“Oh?” Sirius bent forward until their noses were just an inch apart. “Is this close enough?”

“No.” Remus stated as he brought a hand up to the back of Sirius’s head to pull him down into a kiss. It quickly turned heated, but luckily no one was around to witness. Either way, after a few minutes, Remus pulled back for a breath and asked if they should continue this in their room.

The next day, Sirius woke Remus with kisses placed all over his face. “Re, wake up. I have a surprise!”

Remus stretched, and wrapped his arms around Sirius to pull him closer. “What is it, husband?”

A large grin covered Sirius’s face at the name. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I love when you say that.”

“Husband?” Remus asked.

“Yes, it makes me so happy, I get butterflies. I love you so much.” Sirius leaned in for another kiss, getting slightly carried away. He leaned back, remembering the task at hand. Remus started to protest and Sirius cut him off with a hand over his mouth. “No, shh, I have a surprise for you like I said five minutes ago. I don’t want us to be late. We have an hour to be there.”

Remus sighed heavily. “This is our honeymoon, I’m not supposed to have to be anywhere at any specific time.”

“You won’t regret this one, I promise. Just go get ready, babe. We’re going to be outside so dress for that, please.”

When the car parked at their destination, Remus was slightly confused. “Why did we leave our beach to come to this beach?”

“We’re not here for the beach, come on.” Sirius said, grabbing Remus’s hand and pulling him along to a nearby building. Sirius spoke to the person behind the desk before being directed out a set of doors. 

When they crossed the threshold onto a dock, Remus was quite surprised. “Are we…?” He trailed off, staring at a sizable boat.

“We’ve got this boat all day.” Sirius said, pulling him toward it. “Just us and two crew members.”

“Sirius.” Remus looked at his husband in awe. He’d always wanted to do something like this, spend the day on a boat, relaxing, drinking champagne, eating chocolate covered strawberries. He didn’t know why exactly, except that it seemed like a very romantic thing to do.

“You rented this for us?” He still couldn’t quite believe it.

“Well, Fleamont and Euphemia did. But I picked out what we were going to do with the money.” Sirius smiled at the thought of his adoptive parents.

“We’ll have to send them a thank you card with some pictures of us on it. This is so nice of them, I can’t believe they would do this.” Remus said.

“Well, they did something similar for James and Lily on their honeymoon too. They just wanted us to be able to do something that we’d probably never do for ourselves. Now, come on, let’s board and meet the crew and get going!”

There was a hammock in the boat and only water was below them. It was pretty amazing. They had had a lunch of breads, meats, cheeses, and wine. They fed each other like every other gross newlywed couple, and made a toast to many more years together. The crew gave them privacy except to bring them more food or drink.

The crew brought champagne to them while they were lounging on the hammock after applying sunscreen and donning sunglasses. They sat up, enjoying the view and the sunshine while sipping their drinks. They talked about future plans and jobs, holidays they might want to go on in the future, and restaurants they wanted to visit while they stayed there in Aruba.

They laid there in the hammock for a long while, spray from the waves hitting their backs while they relaxed together.

“Do we have to go back home in a week? Can’t we just stay here forever?” Remus asked.

“I certainly don’t want to go back to a snowstorm.” “Especially when we don’t even know where the shovel is.” They laughed, curling into each other and staying cuddled together after they had calmed down.

“If I hadn’t already married you, I would ask you again right now. I love you so much and you make me so happy, Sirius.”

Sirius lifted himself slightly so he could see Remus’s face. “I love you so much, Moony. I don’t know what I would ever do without you. I would marry you one-hundred times over.”

They leaned in at the same time, settling back into their cuddle and sharing sweet kisses. 

“What do you think about extending our honeymoon for an extra week?” Sirius asked.

“I say fuck it, let’s do it.” Remus chuckled.

They stayed in the hammock, drinking more champagne. The crew brought out chocolate covered strawberries for them when the sun started setting. The sky to turned a brilliant orange that quickly moved into pink hues, the clouds turning lavender. They shared strawberry flavored kisses as the boat turned back to the shore. They had the rest of their lives together, and they couldn’t wait to see what else it would bring.

Masterlist

[crimes-and-gelato]

Only Half a Blue Sky (Chapter 6)

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes

A/N: If you're still here, thank you for staying. And I'm sorry for adding another chapter, because I wanted to write a long one to tie everything up, only for my real life drama to hinder my writing. So, I'm sorry for cutting y'all short with this chapter. But at least we still have another one next week. Yayyy???This one is unbeta-ed because I wrote it sooo late, I couldn't find the heart to burden someone with my unchecked grammar. So, if there are any spelling mistakes or grammar error, please look at it with kindness and tell me in a soft voice, yeah? Thanks.Chapter title is from Maroon 5's Daylight, because that song is about leaving. Or well, that's how I perceive it.Also just T/W: there is detailed (but not really because I can't write) torture in this chapter, and assumption that Tony is dead. If that's not for you, I'll see you next week where it'll be more fluff. This whole chapter is just angst. Okay, now on you go. Enjoy.

**

**

if the hurt comes so will happiness. -be patient || rupi kaur 

**

**

Cold is the first thing that registers into his mind as he slowly gains consciousness. The pain follows like an inevitable addition to the discomfort. Why is JARVIS not doing anything about the temperature? He should be at least warm even when he’s in pain.

He’s about to ask his AI to turn the heat up; only that, he opens his eyes to an unfamiliar surrounding. The words die in his tongue.

Where is he? What is this cold, semi-dark place that smells of rust and decay? He tries to rummage his hazy brain for clues. And the only thing that answers him back is more pain. God, his head feels like he’s been hammered by Thor himself. It takes him back to those mornings with a hangover. Only worse.

Shit! His head is pounding so bad it makes him nauseous just opening his eyes and looking around for clues as to where the fuck he is.

Oh, and he’s tied up to a metal chair. Great! Why didn’t he notice that before? Right, because his brain was having a hard time processing everything with how painful it is to even blink.

And gosh, lucky him, he’s got burns littered all over his arms and legs. A few lacerations too on places he can’t specify, because every inch of him hurts that it’s hard to figure out which part of him is not aching. Just fucking fantastic!

At least his not bleeding out… yet. No, he’s only being held hostage on an ugly looking chair. Fucking fantastic indeed. And of course, very classic: kidnappers and chairs. When will villains get creative? Tony can think of other ways to hold people hostage. Not that he’s ever going to share them with the bad guys.

So, how did he end up here?

He scans his memory for clues again because his heart rate is starting to quicken, and the arc reactor in his chest suddenly feels too heavy, that it’s making it difficult for his lungs to distribute the correct amount of oxygen in his body. And he’s not looking forward to the worst case scenario when he’s still in a middle of another worst case scenario.

He needs to keep calm and think of solutions, because if he looks closely into his current predicament it’ll only spiral him into thoughts that’ll push him into a panic attack. He can’t have that right now.

He can’t.

He can’t. Not even when everything about this reminds him of Afghanistan. The cold, the rusty smell of decaying metal, the foul scent of an unkempt room. Somewhere he can hear a faint water droplet that makes his stomach churn at the thought of dirty water and lack of oxygen.

Tony shakes his head to control his rogue thoughts. He’s not going down that rabbit hole. It’s not going to help him get out.

‘I see that you’re awake, Mr. Stark.’ A man appears from the only opening in the room. His English is accented with Russian that completely matches his hard military feature. He fits the perfect role of a HYDRA agent.

‘We’ll it’s hard to stay asleep when your place lacks warmth and cosiness,’ he replies and tries to ignore the uncomfortable dryness in his throat. ‘Also,’ he gestures to his handcuffs, ‘we need to work on consents and safewords for this kind of thing, don’t you think?’

The evil man smiles, showing off chunky yellowish teeth. ‘It’s amazing how you still have humour after all that injury.’ He moves closer, right in front of Tony’s chair. ‘Guess that’s a good thing.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes, Mr. Stark.’ He takes a stool from the side and occupies it. ‘You see, we need you alive at least.’ He studies Tony’s face, and his eyes gleam of something sadistic. He smiles again and it makes the genius shiver because he doesn’t like this man’s wicked eyes that promises pain. ‘Things apparently didn’t go as planned.’

‘It doesn’t always,’ Tony agrees just to humour this villain. ‘Word of advice? Accept it and move on.’

Another wicked smile as he scratches one of his eyebrow with his pinky. ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ He pulls out a short knife from his back. His adept fingers plays with it, tosses the blade from one hand to the other. ‘We’ve figured something out.’

‘Who is this we?’ He’s trying not to look intimidated by the sight of the knife. ‘HYDRA?’

‘Can’t tell you… because then, I have to kill you.’

Tony’s not sure if the stranger is humouring him as well, or he’s being honest. But he did say that they — whoever they is — needs him alive. So, they’re not going to kill him. That doesn’t mean that this bad guy won’t make him suffer though. Sadistic bastard!

‘The thing is…’ The man throws the knife in the air and snatches it swiftly, just to plunge it on Tony’s thigh.

The groan escapes his lips as the pain spreads into his body. And here he’s thinking that he’s numb to feel any pain with how much every nerve ending is burning from his injury from the explosion.

Yes, there was an explosion when they were trying to infiltrate a lab that the officials said to be of HYDRA. The officials wanted it to seem like they’re doing government check-ups on private organisation. But it seems like there was a mole on Bruce’s alliance team.

‘We really need a safeword,’ he jokes through gritted teeth.

‘It won’t be necessary as long as you tell your friends to give us back the sceptre,’ the man whispers into Tony’s ear, hand gripping on the knife handle and twisting it slightly, earning him another muffled groan from the engineer. ‘And they could send back the soldier as well,’ he adds. ‘Tell them to obey… or else they’ll have your body, back in a bag.’

‘Is that why you need me?’ The blade sinks further. ‘As leverage?’ He chuckles darkly and the man leans back away, looking at Tony like the genius has lost his mind. ‘That’s a very stupid plan.’

‘Oh please… They’ll bargain for you,’ the man spits, putting on his sadistic mask again. ‘You’re their precious teammate. An important person in society.’ He produces another knife. ‘Surely, they’ll come for you and exchange you for the Winter Soldier.’

‘Not really.’ Tony shakes his head and has the greatest urge to tell this idiot of the truth. How, firstly, there is no way in seven hells Captain America will ever let James near these assholes. Neither will Tony, over his dead body. And secondly, there’s no room for argument that his life can be use as a bargaining chip in exchange for the life of those who will be affected if HYDRA gets their hands on the sceptre. Because duh… he’s not worth it.

Back on his first reason. Has these idiots forgotten that Steve is bonded to James, and would probably sacrifice anyone — much less Tony Stark — to keep his soulmate safe? Seriously, bad guys should study the laws of soul bonding too because they are just clueless as to how far people would go for those they love.

‘I’m being honest with you, buddy,’ he says. ‘They won’t exchange Winter and the sceptre for the likes of me.’ He shrugs. ‘So, unless you have another plan, it’s better if you change route right now.’

The man doesn’t believe him. ‘I’ll come back for you when you’re ready to talk, Mr. Stark.’ The second knife vanishes, but thank goodness not under Tony’s flesh. But the bloke did twist the knife that’s still attached to Tony’s thigh before he leaves the room. Probably going to report to his masters.

Tony’s not sure why he’s trying to convince his tormentor that he’s team cares so little for him. He blames it on the lack of common sense and sanity when all he can register is the pain. The last time it hurt like this it’s because he was betrayed. And he was betrayed because he deserved it — he deserves to be alone since he’s never going to be good enough.

His burns, the old wounds, and the new one eats away his logic. Maybe it’s true that the team won’t come for him, especially not Steve who won’t even risk James’ safety. And he agrees with that.

Maybe Rhodey will come for him. But his platypus is busy fighting more important battles that’ll save myriad of people who deserves to live. Not like Tony.

And Pepper — his dear lovely Pepper — who manages his company better than he did, making sure that every single employee is taken care of. Pepper will also not come for him, it’s protocol that SI will never pay ransom money for him.

No one will come for him. No one. So, he should probably stop staring at the door like someone’s going to come busting in and rescue him.

He doesn’t know how long he stares at the door. But he sees the man returning with renewed hope and sadism in his posture.

‘Have you still not changed your mind, Mr. Stark?’ The evil minion occupies his stool once again.

‘Now that I think about it… I never got your name,’ he says. ‘So, what is your name? Or does HYDRA do the whole Hunchman One, Hunchman Two, etcetera thing?’

‘Well,’ the man sits comfortably like he’s simply lounging around with Tony, ‘if it’s all the same to you,’ the punch completely catches Tony off guard, so did the pain, ‘I’d rather not get us both acquainted.’

There’s a new addition to his collection of pain with that blow. There’s a fresh batch of headache that follows the other one that had just ebbed from the explosion. Ah, just his luck.

Tony spits blood on the floor and glares at his oppressor.

‘Beg your Avengers, Mr. Stark,’ he orders. ‘Beg for them.’ Another blow to the other side of his face. ‘Or else, I’ll have too much fun breaking you.’

**

**

It’s cold. It’s always cold, Tony notices. And he’s not sure where he is. He’s sure the bastards that have kidnapped him had stripped him of all his tracking device. Maybe it’s time to install one deep within his flesh like JARVIS had suggested.

And his suit, no one has mentioned about his suit. They must have abandoned it somewhere. Smart of them, because the suit has a tracking device, a good one too.

He needs to escape. He’s not going to be leverage for these assholes. They’re not going to be able to use him, no matter the amount of colourful addition on his face, not to mention the twin knives that’s sunk on both his thighs.

Everything hurts. Everything.

There’s that annoying sound of a slow water drip from inside the room as well. It’s damn irritating, especially that it seems to echo the blood that drips from both of his twinning thigh wounds. Fuck, everything hurts, but at the same time he’s slowly losing feeling on his legs.

Few more hours and he’s going to to bleed out. And this could be it for him.

He lost count of the time Mike — that’s what he calls his instigator, the man didn’t appreciate it (rude much) and lands a rather heavy blow on Tony’s left lung — had come into the room to wreck him into submission. Tony is very close to his breaking point. He can feel his sanity slipping away with each punch that lands his face and body, with each twist of the knife, and the amount of pooling blood beneath him.

His tormentor has promised a much better means next time he sees him; something wet he said, that had Tony’s breath hitching with fear at the vague indication. He’s still have nightmares about dirty water and gasping for air. And that might just be the last straw that breaks the camels back.

But he can’t give up now. He can’t break now. Stark men are made of iron, his own subconscious repeats over and over again. He hates it because his own subconscious sounds like his father’s voice.

And just like he had done before, Tony draws strength to the one thing that grounds him and gives him peace of mind when everything falls apart.

‘Steve,’ he whispers in reverence as if on prayer. ‘Steve.’ He smiles a little, the name tastes safe in his mouth, easing some of his discomfort. His soulmate to Steve Rogers — Captain America, the guy who lost everything and still managed to survive, the guy who Tony wants to become, the man he wants to be with. Brave and wonderful Steve Rogers: Tony’s soulmate. ‘I think… I might miss you, Steve.’

The tears that pool his eyes finally run down his cheeks as he closes his eyes in the hope to never wake up to more suffering. Death doesn’t seem so bad, right? Everyone he loves is safe. His team have recovered Loki’s sceptre — based on Mike’s tantrum — and they’ll be able to end HYDRA once and for all.

And that’s his last thought before darkness finally takes him.

**

**

Everything is in chaos: Tony Stark is missing. And Bucky’s not ready to face the worst case scenario that it completely breaks him; that’s how Steve finds him when the rest of the Avengers returned back home after being unsuccessful in locating Tony in Europe. They have all decided to recoup and plan.

Steve had to fix him back together after his melt down, and he feels bad for stealing Steve’s own rights to mourn for his missing teammate — and probably, the man Steve loves that he doesn’t know yet. It’s embarrassing to need Steve like that because it had always been the other way around, with him taking care of Stevie. But times can change.

It wasn’t his best moment as well, he gets clingy and panicky when he’s not in the same room as Steve, or when he doesn’t see the man. And the weight of Tony’s loss still brands his chest like an empty crater. It’s the sort of ache that won’t go away. It’s the sort of ache that squeezes your heart time and time again just to remind you that it’s there.

Twenty-four hours later, they received a message from the low class HYDRA franchise in Sokovia that had held Tony hostage. They are trying to hold the genius ransom for Loki’s magical sceptre (which Thor and Loki had successfully retrieved). And for him, the Winter Soldier.

Bucky wanted to say yes… to both. He doesn’t give a fuck what happens to him or to that blasted sceptre. All he wants is for Tony to be safe, to come home. But of course, that decision isn’t up to him, and he knows that if they all follow his thinking it’d be a disaster, because honestly, he’s not even logical.

Well, they can’t blame him, he’s not very sane to begin with. Your soulmate being threatened and in the face of danger doesn’t make the most rational human being either. So, he waits, instead of voicing out his idiotic ideas.

But it’s hard to ignore his questionable ideas when a cryptic video arrives eight hours after the offer has been announced. And that video alone makes what’s left of his sane brain cells perish, because the video is awful. Painful to watch.

There’s this bald Russian guy that tortures Tony to beg the Avengers to rescue him in exchange for the sceptre and Bucky. The methods are simple: a few punches and a few stabbing. Nothing worse than Bucky had gone under HYDRA’s hands. But then, Bucky’s a super soldier, who heals easily; Tony on the other hand is a non-powered human, looking all bruised and battered with his injuries from the explosion and now the current tormenting.

It’s wreaking to watch. They were all angry, he can tell. Even Bruce who is usually relax looks a little green. Natasha is physically an embodiment of chaos and destruction at the sight of the second knife digging into Tony’s thigh.

‘JARVIS, I hope you’re tracking the source of this video.’ There’s a hardness in Steve’s voice that he’s never heard before. Steve is usually gentle when speaking to people, especially towards JARVIS or the bots.

‘On it, Captain,’ JARVIS replies severely.

The video only last five minutes, but it feels longer. It plays on a loop, with them cursing every second of it. But they have to study it, in case it clues them to where Tony’s being hold up.

Every quiet groan and tormented scream rams into Bucky’s soul like ton of brick. Mutely, he promises terrible pain to those who’ve caused Tony’s painful screeches. Morality be damned. There is blood and suffering to be paid in full.

**

**

It takes two more days for the next video to arrive. It contains the same stomach churning gore of Tony’s torture. They can all see how the genius slowly withering, despite how he still has his sass intact.

‘Can’t that alien god help locate him?’ Bucky demands, watching the newest set of video for too many times that he knows isn’t healthy. His therapist would disapprove. ‘What use is his magic?’

Steve looks just as weary as Bucky is. They all do, but he thinks him and Steve has it worse. His other soulmate is being maimed, and somehow he thinks Steve can feel the negative and dark energy within him. It might has something to do with how they are soul bond.

So, Captain America has to shoulder Bucky’s hidden anxiety, and he has to worry for his friend. Hence, Steve looking worse for wear.

‘It’s not that easy, Buck.’ Steve runs a hand over his tired face. ‘We’ll find him.’ The blond reaches out a hand to comfort, but Bucky moves away from it. Hurt and confusion mixes in Steve’s face.

‘But when, Stevie?’ he shouts. ‘When he’s dea—’

‘Don’t say that,’ Steve cuts him off sharply. ‘Tony’s one of the strongest people I know.’ He squares his jaw as if daring Bucky to challenge the unquestionable faith in his voice. ‘And we’re doing our best to find him… And we will.’

Being pessimistic probably doesn’t help anyone. And really, he’s only hurting himself by thinking of the worst. Yes, the worst could happen. But not now, not when he’s got Steve to tell him that it won’t. He’ll believe Steve, he always will. Steve could believe for the both of them.

Because god, if the worst do happen, Bucky’s not sure how he will survive. He probably won’t, right? He doesn’t think he’s that strong to survive this heartbreak. He can deal with HYDRA and all their torture, but not the loss of a soulmate. That feels too impossible. Even now, just looking at Tony suffering is killing Bucky, too.

‘We’ll find him, Buck.’ Steve pulls him in a hug, which he accepts because he knows the blond needs it, too. ‘We’ll find him.’

It’s almost a miracle Steve doesn’t ask him about his rather passionate feelings towards Tony Stark. But maybe Steve doesn’t notice it as well, too lost in his own worry for the genius.

**

**

The next video comes sixteen hours after the last one, Steve and Bucky were the one standing vigil for any news. The team had developed a schedule to have someone — usually a pair — wait up for important updates. Not that any of them get any sleep longer than two hours when they are not on duty. Ever since Tony was gone, sleep has been a scarce commodity in the tower.

The video holds the usual disgusting torture of the engineer. But this time Tony looks like he’s at his breaking point. The pool of blood on the floor is also concerning. There’s a haunting paleness in Tony’s face that makes Bucky’s chest twist painfully.

Tony looks weak and fragile and broken. And it’s heart-wrenching to see that he deflates the ball he’s been playing with the bots. There’s far no greater pain than watching his soulmate slowly ebb to death.

‘Steve,’ comes Tony’s weak voice from the video.

Bucky has long accepted that Tony had feelings for Steve, just as Steve has feelings for Tony. But witnessing it so bluntly is something else. He waits for the pain or jealousy to come. Surely, it’s inevitable for him to feel any of the two or both, given that his soulmate uttered someone else’s name when all hope is lost in Tony’s eyes and Steve’s name sounded like a saving grace.

The pain or jealousy didn’t arrive. Yes, there is pain, but it’s the same one he’s been nursing since Tony had gone missing and was tortured.

Bucky aches for his imprisoned soulmate. And he’s about to tell Steve that they really need to fasten shit up and rescue the genius, because he can’t stand these awful videos anymore.

‘Wha—’ Steve’s motionless as he stares into the monitor, horror and confusion sits on his face.

‘Stevie?’ He reaches for his soulmate in concern. A hand on the blond’s shoulder for support. Did the videos finally break Steve as well?

Steve’s tortured expression turns to Bucky, his lips are agape, but no words passes them. ‘Buck,’ he says like he’s remembering Bucky’s there. He holds on to Bucky’s outstretch arm like it’s the only thing that’s keeping him upright. ‘Tony… h-he’s… he’s…’

It’s a good thing that Bucky’s a super soldier because Steve is heavy with how he’s relying all of his weight on Bucky’s arm. He’s never seen his soulmate so startled and terrified.

‘Oh god,’ Steve mumbles quietly with disbelief and fright as he looks everywhere but Bucky’s own worried face.

Steve’s action is scaring Bucky, and he’s about to ask the blond man what’s wrong when —

‘Steve,’ Tony mutters again.

Steve whips his head back to the screen in a flash that Bucky’s amaze he didn’t break his neck in the process. Steve’s sudden alertness to Tony’s call is an embodiment of a siren calling to a sailor; like a sunflower following the sun in the sky.

But god is it clear to Bucky what’s happening. It’s written all over Steve’s face with how his eyes looks like he’s seeing Tony for the first time.

One single word.

One single name.

Bucky knows by experience what it feels like to have Tony say your name for the first time and be envelop by a phantom sense of safety and happiness. It’s like finding meaning to life all over again, and being lulled in euphoria. But he can’t imagine what it’s like for Steve when there’s also that dreadful emotion of fear for the life of a soulmate which had sat painfully on Bucky’s chest for days now. A few days that felt like years.

‘I think… I might miss you, Steve,’ Tony says as he closes his eyes.

They both stare at the screen in silence. Waiting for the genius to say something more.

But nothing.

Tony remains still. So still that Steve’s hand grips on Bucky’s so tightly it hurts.

Damn it, Tony! Open your eyes! Bucky yells mentally in anger and desperation. Please… Please. He watches and waits for any sign of motion.

The seconds tick by, but Tony continues to be static.

Open your eyes, doll! His own hand digs into Steve’s shoulder as they both try to support each other. Open your eyes.

‘No,’ Steve says in defeat and heartbreak. ‘Tony.’ His voice is wet and bleak and aching.

And Bucky mutely asks for some miracle, staring at Tony’s motionless body on the screen. It doesn’t fit Tony to be this still when he’s always full of energy and life.

God no, Bucky thinks as the tears cascade his cheek.

**

[justnerdystuffs]

The road to happiness

Wilson! Reader x Steve Rogers, Avengers x Wilson! Reader

Warnings: Ummm, a lot. Insomnia, past trauma, swearing, ANGST, future violence, and probably more in future. Let me know if I've forgot something in this chapter!

Sooo people, it's happened! I'm posting my first ever series (cough work cough) on here. This is gonna be super angsty so sorry not sorry, I've been reading a lot of @prettyyoungtragedy , @propertyofpoeandbucky annd @all1e23 's works lately, and was inspired so blame it on them people. Seriously though, I love you people, you rock! So here we go, I hope you enjoy, please comment and reblog❤❤ Also this is unbetaed soo.. Yeah, all mistakes are mine.

Nights like these were the absolute worst. They had started being this bad about two years ago, after what the public called "Civil War". Your baby brother, (along with his team (cough cough) of superheroes) had broken several laws when the government had decided they needed to control enhanced humans. Sam, of course, wasn't one, but multiple people on his team (looking at you, Captain America and Hulk, and well, you Thor) They had split in two teams, team Cap and team Iron Man, and Sam, being righteous, did what he knew was right. (And probably protecting you) He was right of course, but still. He had broken several laws and left the country without telling you or leaving you any way to contact him the A class a--hole. You had hardly been able to sleep, anxiety wracking your body at all times, worry and fear for your brother who honestly was the most important person in your life, ever since he was born.

Eventually you stopped needing sleep, or so you told yourself anyway. You might be more clumsy than usual but you were fine. You hadn't slept much before either, and badly when you did.

[nvrfrgetu]

Can you do more Alphabet Zach? 💖 Preferably a fluffy one?

i’m so sorry it took so long for me to answer this. i’ve actually lost my inspiration to write the alphabets lately but i have this draft of a continuation to this drabble i’ve wrote some time ago so i thought maybe you would enjoy. it’s mostly fluffy small talk and some small flirting and probably some mistakes since it’s unbetaed. thank you again for your message! hope you like it.

“You’re the first i’ve actually accepted.” To sayyou were surprised were the least. He just eyes you to say the words and then apparently discover something very interesting in his hands, which you betare fidgeting awkwardly on his lap. This manages a small smile to sprout atyour lips while you try to will the sudden heat in your face away. You decide that he’s alreadytoo overwhelmed at the declaration, so you don’t tease him about it. Instead,you try to easy the mood.

“And hereis where you decide to bring me?” You hold a smile when a groan erupt from hislips and he gives you a half embarrassed, half apologetic look.

“It were my mother’s idea. And she did thereservations before I could even get a word out of my mouth.” He says and itdon’t surprises you one bit, but it amuses you someway so you give a littlesmile at him before speaking. 

“She seems rather difficult.”

“Don’t say it. I’m afraid she may find a way to showup in the middle of our order.” Then, his eyes go wide and he suddenly panicsand motions for the waiter who comes looking rather unpleased at the unpolishedcalling. “My mom did not gave youany orders for this table, did she?” His tone’s exasperated but also assertive. You’re sure that if the answer came to be positive he wouldn’t accept it easily and would stand his ground. It actually makes you be more at ease. You can only assume that dealing with such a obstinate mother he’s been forced to grow some spite in order to go against her unwanted decisions. 

The man seems rather confused and just motions withhis head a suspiciously no. You can’t hold your giggles at this and Zach leaves asigh of relieve.

“She seems a little too… controlative.”

“You have no idea.” But he quickly amends. “She’sawesome, too, but…” He sighs again. “After dad’s passing… sometimes she’s just too much.”

The conversation flows rather well from there. Zach’sactually a nice guy and surprisingintelligent. His mother always talked about his good grades and greatbasketball skills, but you always rubbed it off like mothers talk, speciallysince you knew pretty well how jocks normally were. Not only, you also knew how much your ownmother did it, bragging about your piano skills, so you didn’t actuallybelieved Mrs. Dempsey. You didn’t attend Liberty High though, your mother haddecided on making you attend the all girl’s school, but it were mostly so youcould keep on with the piano lessons inside the School’s program. However, Zach was pretty much what she hadbragged about. He was somewhat knowledgeable about everything you tried to talk,be it university plans, scholarships or high school subjects. He even knewabout literature and somehow you even talked about the latest movies you hadwatched and his latest basketball games. 

The evening was turning as a pleasant surprise,but in the middle of some fit of laughter he had almost knocked the flowerarrangement down and that made you have to put your hands to your mouth to keepthe laughter there. The waiter came by the table and decided to take thearrangement with him. He side eyed you and Zach but said nothing. Zach was abeautiful pink color when he looked at you and you smiled at him in support.

“Don’t worry, Ididn’t even liked that.” You said, to help ease his embarrassment. “It lookstoo perfect, we are only here to eat, why does it have to look like they’reready for a wedding?”

Zach was laughing when he stopped suddenly, incliningcloser to you over the table. He had a mischievous look on his face that madeyou smirk when inclining to meet him. He looked around to emphasize the secrecyof his following statement. “What if they are?”

“What do you mean?” Then, it hits you. ”Do youthink they’re waiting on a propose?” You have a probably dreamy smile on yourface, cause you see the way he looks at you differently.

“I don’t know…” It’s silent for a while, you lookingaround trying your hardest to identify any couple that could be givingfiancés-to-be vibes, but there were mostly mature couples, around they latefortys, a few mans who seemed doing business and some very fancy old ladieshaving a nice dinner. The restaurant was mostly empty too, being that muchexpensive, and it were a Sunday night after all. “What do you think?”

You cocked a eyebrow at him, lips pursed together in aanalyzing expression. “I don’t think so. No one here give me wedding vibes.”

“Maybe those ones?” He signaled to the only couplethere who could be around their early-fortys. They were having dinner incomplete and utter silence, only nodding sometimes at each other. You couldn’thold the snort.

“Oh, please. They must be doing the obligatorywedding tenth-anniversary dinner.” You then pointed very discreetly at thebusiness mans on two tables over. “Maybe they are. At least it seems like itcould be their first wedding.”

He tried to hold his laugh by pressing his lips. “Thoseguys have less chemistry that this candlelight.”

“Hey, some people like it plain ‘n boring.” You jokeand he blinks, giving you a not very well-hidden interested look.

“What do youlike?”

“Me?” You stops and considers his question while appreciating his face. You had really liked him and thought that his shyness was actually very adorable. There was your chance to give him the hint that you were interested just like he had when he said you were the only date his mother had tried set him up that he actually accepted. You send him a bright smile and brings your cup to your lips while murmuring just for him to listen. 

“Apparently I’m currently into tall big dorks.” His deep blush is probably gonna haunt you forever for it is the cutest thing you have ever seen.

[bugheadjones-the-third]

title: Behind her Emerald Eyes

summary: He looks deep into his eyes, and even if they might have the same color, her eyes are nothing like his. Hers are softer. Warmer. There’s no evil behind her emerald eyes. Or Jughead pays the Blackhood a visit so he can truly understand his reasons.

a/n: this idea crossed my mind, and to be honest, I really like exploring all the consequences of Hal being the BH. I know it’s not fair to Betty and I should just make her happy, but the ideas won’t leave me alone! Hope you enjoy this one, and please, let me know what you think! (Also, this is unbeta- ed. Go easy on my mistakes, okay?)

“You can come with me, now, kid.”

The collected voice of the sheriff’s assistant brought Jughead back from where his thoughts had taken him since he arrived at the station. His lower back was starting to hurt due to the long time he had spent there, and it was only after he stood up and placed his hand on his head that he remembered he had left his beanie at home. He filled his lungs with air just to release it on a sigh, and soon, his blue eyes were set on the man waiting to guide him through the hallways he already knows so well.

The sound of his combat boots echoed across the thick walls, disappearing as they walked further from the entrance. It was a narrow hallway, with a few light bulbs to guide the way, and for the first time, the lack of light was making him feel uncomfortable. His heart was beating faster, his throat was getting dryer and he could feel the tension building up as they approached the chosen cell.

Maybe that was a bad decision, he thought. Maybe he should just go back to the other stuff happening in his life and simply forget about that stupid idea that crossed his mind earlier that day.

Maybe he should just leave. That was what his father would’ve told him, and even Betty would be telling him to walk away from that place, had she had any idea of what he was about to do.

Hell, the entire town would probably try to convince him to give up on that stupid idea, but Jughead couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it.

At least not until he could come face to face with Riverdale’s very, own demon.

“ You have 15 minutes, Jones.” The assistant stopped, his hand turning the doorknob to reveal a single, illuminated cell. “ Don’t piss him off. I’ll be right back to call you.”

Jughead nodded, swallowing dry as shivers ran down his spine. “ S-Sure, officer. I won’t take long.”

The raven haired boy took a couple of seconds to collect his thoughts before he finally walked pass the door that separated reality from Riverdale’s latest nightmare. He had his Serpent jacket on, and even if that would normally offer him some sense of safety, he felt like not even his entire gang would be able to protect him from that man that stood behind that glass wall.

The man whose past did not match the present and the man whose nice face did not match those gray, prison clothes.

The man who has always been nothing but gentle with him, and who now had innocent blood on his hands. After hosting so many barbecues around his neighborhood, that man was now responsible for so many deaths and so many tears around the whole town.

The Angel of Death, finally exposed and free from that ominous, black hood; just to reveal the darkness within Riverdale’s model family.

Hal Cooper— the perfect neighbor and the perfect husband— was standing there, all alone in a Hannibal Lecter kind of cell, his always-so-bright aura contrasting with the rough, incarcerated atmosphere. Had he not known the whole story, Jughead would never believe that man had done all those horrible things in the past few weeks, and more than ever, he would be fighting to prove the nonexistent innocence of his father-in-law.

He would fight for him, going against the detectives and the evidences simply to protect whatever was left of the town’s facade, and mostly, to heal the broken heart of the beloved, younger daughter. More than anything, Jughead wanted to tell Betty that her father was innocent and that he had not killed those people. He wanted her to be happy again in a way he knows she will never be anymore.

He just wanted to bring her father back in the same way she brought his.

But they both know better than to believe in the innocence of their small town again. Long gone are the days where things were exactly what they seemed to be and kids weren’t being murdered by the adults that were supposed to protect them.

Long gone is their fair Riverdale.

“ Jughead Jones… Of course you would come for a visit. Always snoopy around the adults’ matters.”

“ Well, you better than anyone know how this side of mine works.” He started, still not confident enough to look him in the eye. Jughead had his hands hidden inside his pockets, as he kept moving his fingers in order to keep his emotions under control. “ You taught me a lot about journalism, after all.”

“ Of course… The troublesome journalist that can’t leave things as they are. You really remind me of Alice, and that can be either a compliment or an offense depending on how you see it.” He started, a dirty smirk plastered on his face.” But journalism is not the only thing you two have in common, right? You snakes are always unpredictable no matter how long it passes.”

“ Serpents never shed their skins, after all. That’s what we do.”

“ Yes, of course… And yet, neither of you knew the identity behind the Blackhood. It took someone with a similar darkness to see behind the mask.” There was a sense of pride in his voice that made Jughead sick, and he figured he must have given that away, for Hal took an intimidating step closer to the glass wall. “ So, tell me, Jughead… How’s my daughter? How’s my Betty?"

Listening to the way her name rolled out of his tongue made a wave of anger strike him. She didn’t belong to him. Not to that despicable man who has done all those terrible things. His blood might run through her veins, but such thing means nothing even if she seems to believe it does. Betty might be his daughter, but she is her own person, with her own feelings, and eventually, her own darkness.

Even if he has always been respectful towards the father of his girlfriend, he realized that cordiality slipping away as the whole situation became clearer inside his head. That man— that murderer, did not deserve respect or simpaty anymore. He had been the source of all the pain his girlfriend went through lately, and even when he’s behind bars, he’s still there, tormenting her with his stupid predictions. He made her go through hell with that stupid blackmail and made her do things that will forever haunt her dreams.

He killed her own father, and now, if anything, he deserved to be treated like the murderer he is.

He is the Blackhood, after all.

“ She’s not yours.”

“ That’s what you think, kid. Just look into her eyes, and eventually, you will both know the truth.”

His fists clenched, his brows knitted in anger and a new feeling of confidence surpassed all the apprehension he had been feeling since he walked in. He took a step closer to the glass wall, leveling his blue eyes to Hal’s green ones and straightening his shoulders. A foreign sense of superiority took over Jughead, and now, his mind was completely set on the message he was about to deliver. “You see, Mr. Cooper—” He stopped, angling his head in a challenging way, a smirk now on his lips. “ Hal… No matter what you’ve brought yourself to believe in, Betty is not like you. She’s not an evil person who would be capable of stabbing children for a distorted ideal. Betty is—“

“ My daughter!” Hal cut his speech, clearly annoyed by the words coming out of Jughead’s mouth. “ She is—”

“ She’s free…” A side smile crossed his lips as a chuckle made its way out. His hand went to scratch the back of his neck, and it was as if his eyes were burning brighter than before. “ Betty is her own person. She’s always reinventing herself, and I honestly feel sorry for you since you won’t be able to see her becoming an incredible woman in her own way.”

“ Betty will follow her darkness! You don’t know how powerful and overwhelming it is! You’re not one of us.”

“ No, I’m not… And you’re right, Hal. I don’t know anything about her darkness. She doesn’t, either…. But I’ll be there for her whenever it becomes too much for her to handle all alone.”

“ What!?” He screamed, sarcasm present in his voice. “ Don’t fool yourself, Jughead! You can’t handle such things! You can’t control her darkness!”

“ But she can.”

“ Uh?”

“ You see, after all this time dating Betty, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about her is that she can do whatever she wants. From getting a drunk, gang member out of jail to… To loving the boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Dealing with her darkness will be a piece of cake, especially since she won’t be alone. I’ll be there and we will turn this page for once and for all."

“ You don’t know her, Jughead! You don’t know Betty!”

“ Yes, I do… I know my girlfriend, Hal. I know her better than you ever will.”

“ You insolent kid!” He said, his face turning red in pure anger as he punched the glass. His eyes— which were once so nice and kind— were now revealing his true identity as they were filled with anger and hatred, just as expected from a criminal so bloodthirsty like him. Apparently, words that were nothing but the simple truth for Jughead were driving him mad to the point where he was losing his composure. Hal refused to believe the one thing that controlled his life would not be passed through his gens to his beloved daughter. He didn’t want to believe his legacy wouldn’t last, and at that moment, that teenager— the same boy who had once shyly showed up to introduce himself as his daughter’s boyfriend— was destroying everything he had built up until now.

Jughead was using simple words to tell him that, while he rotted behind bars, his biggest fear would come to reality. Betty was not going to follow the same path he did, and that kid standing in front of him would make sure of that.

That kid…. The one he should’ve just ki—

“ Maybe you should’ve just gotten rid of me, Hal.” He smirked, provoking a shocked expression on the Cooper' s face. A certain pride took over him at that moment, and he couldn’t help but feel satisfied with such response from that man. At that moment, Jughead thought, he had already said everything he wanted to say to his father-in-law. Even if those were not the original words he had rehearsed in his head, he figured the sudden changes had been necessary given he path that conversation took.

It was not like he had initially planned on confronting Hal like that, but now there was really no turning back anymore. All the words trapped inside his heart had all been said, and perhaps, it was finally time to go home.

Time to go back to her.

“ I guess I’ll be heading out now, Hal. Thank you for your time.” He said, after what felt like an eternal silence, waving a hand and finally turning on his heels. Even if he was supposed to wait for the sheriff’s assistant, Jughead didn’t want to spend another second in that room facing that man. He knew the way out, and at that moment, he just wanted to get out of there.

His combat boots started to increase the distance between them, and if it depended on the raven haired boy, he would’ve walked out of the station without saying another word to anyone. He would leave that whole thing behind so he could focus on the good things that were to come for him now.

If it depended on him, Hal Cooper would become an unfortunate memory as soon as he crossed that door.

But before that, the criminal had one last question to ask him.

One last question before he was, at last, left behind.

“ Why did you even come?! Why are you here!?” Hal’s muffled voice came louder than he had expected, and at that moment, he realized how well that thick, glass wall worked on keeping the entire town safe.

The young Serpent, then, stopped, but his head didn't turn to meet the prisoner. The boy took a deep breath, and with all the calm in the world, he parted his lips. “ I just came to tell you that I’ll take care of her… You don’t have to worry, Mr. C… Betty will be fine, I promise.”

After that, Jughead didn’t really know what Hal was screaming at him, but he knew he couldn’t care less about the threats of a condemned man. He had more important things to take care of, and he had already wasted too much of his precious time with just a simple— and apparently useless— delivery to a worried father. He kept his hands inside his pockets the entire way, and as soon as the door closed behind him, the raven haired boy could feel his chest getting lighter with each step he took towards the exit.

Visiting the Blackhood had been harder than he had originally expected, for sure.

But at least, now, he could go home.

By the time he parked his bike, he figured the babies were probably asleep. It was already late for unexpected visitors, and he knew he could’ve— should've just waited another day to see her. Betty needed to sleep, too, and since she hadn’t really had the chance to do so in the past couple of days, maybe he really should’ve just rode off.

He really should’ve just followed his way back to the trailer, but before he knew it, her house was already in his field of vision. Standing in front of her porch, and now decided to follow up his impulsive idea, Jughead already analyzed all his options, and even if he could’ve just knocked on the front door or even texted her, the sight of Archie’s ladder outside gave the young Serpent a different idea that— if anything— was filled with nostalgia.

As clumsy as one can be, the raven haired boy did his best not to make a mess or anything as he moved that thing around the yards. While making his way up,  he also made a mental note to practice more so Alice wouldn’t kill him for breaking anything whenever he needed to sneak in or out. Knowing his mother-in-law, she would be mad with the simple fact that he was invading her daughter’s room, and for some reason, a terrified smile crossed his lips at the image of the elder Cooper holding a switchblade.

She still is a Serpent, after all. And now that she wasn’t even trying to hide that side of hers anymore, he knew she would be even more dangerous than before.

A chuckle escaped his lips, and for a moment, he could feel his heart warming up a bit at the new concept of family forming inside his head. They would all be even closer from now on, and he knew good things would come from that. Still, even if he was somehow feeling happy at that moment, Jughead felt his heart sadly skipping a beat when her room came to view. Even if all the lights were out, his eyes could still see her sitting on the edge of her bed, her shoulders down and a hand coming up to wipe the tears that were probably streaming down her cheeks.

The same tears that, lately, haven’t really stopped falling.

Seeing her like that broke his heart into millions of pieces, and even if he had had the best of the intentions when he decided to stop by to check on her, there was something inside his chest telling him to simply walk away and give her some privacy at that moment. Betty was going through a delicate situation, and moments alone— even if they might be, indeed, lonely— are also important for putting her thoughts to go back to their place. She was crying and she was vulnerable, and perhaps, he should just walk away and leave her to herself, at least for that night. Yes, it would be the right thing to do. Even if he just wanted to break her window and embrace her small body, Jughead decided to give her some time, opting, instead, to climb down those stairs and go back to the trailer.

She needed that time alone to let it all out, he figured, and by the time his feet touched the ground, he had already decided to leave.

But as soon as his phone vibrated inside his pocket with a new text, he realized that, perhaps, a moment to herself didn’t mean a moment without him by her side.

Betty: Sorry for sounding desperate, but… Can you come by?

He just needed to read the last part before he was once again climbing those steps in order to meet her. On his short way up, he felt his phone vibrating a couple times more, and after the third time in a row, he decided to take a look at whoever needed him so desperately at that moment. No matter what, though, he was not going anywhere. Not when Betty needed him the most.

He was ready to ignore whoever it was, but a soft smile came to his lips as soon as he saw that all the messages were from the girl herself. He read them all, but shook his head, not taking her words seriously.

Betty: Unless you’re busy.

Betty: Forget what I said, Jug.

Betty: It’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Betty:Love you.

The next message never came, for he only saw her dropping the phone on her mattress in a surprised reaction when he tapped on her window. Her head turned immediately to face him, and as startled as she was, Betty wasted no time before crossing her room to let him in. He helped her open the window, and thanks to the street lamp, he could see her face twisting when the cold breeze invaded her room with him. He was quick to close it once he was completely inside, and when he finally turned to face her, Jughead was really glad for the message that prevented him from walking away.

He was happy to see her, for sure.

But if anything, her face told him she was in no condition to be alone. Not on that night.

“ Betts…”

“ Wow…. You were incredibly fast.”

“ I was already passing by. Are you—“

“ I’m glad you were.” She wiped another tear, trying to offer him a smile as she rushed more words. “ I missed you and I guess I felt a bit lonely… Silly me, right?”

“ No, Betty!” He said, taking her hands in his, caressing her skin with his thumb. “ Not silly at all. I missed you, too and I was dying to see you today. How have you been?”

She shrugged, bitting her lip as if to try to hold back more tears. “ I don’t know…. Going, I guess.”

A sigh escaped his lips, and carefully, he brought her closer, enveloping her in a hug. “ Come here.” His arms encircled her shoulders, and he felt her tears soaking his shirt. Betty was now sobbing in his arms, and if he were to be honest, the young Serpent was relieved to have her like that. Lately, the blonde had been holding back so much for her family— and even for herself— and he was glad to see her finally letting it all out. Sure, it wouldn’t solve all of her problems, but at least, it would help her sleep better that night.

Slowly, he lead her to her bed, helping her sit and finding himself a spot next to hers. Her head was still resting against his chest, as he was carefully running his fingers through her golden locks. He kissed her head, not moving his lips away immediately, just waiting for the time when she felt comfortable enough to tell him about her day. After all they went through, there were no more secrets between them, and it was safe to say the truth would come out, sooner or later, depending on how comfortable she felt with it. On that night, they spent a couple of minutes in a delicate silence, but at last, her emerald eyes were on his blue orbs, as the dim light coming from the street made her look serenely beautiful.

“ Thank you for coming, Jug.”

“ You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m here for whenever you need me, okay?”

“… Okay.” She nodded, swallowing her tears. “ Today was not a very good day, I guess…”

“ What happened?”

“ I...” She sighed, bitting her lower lips before continuing. “ I went out to check the mail box and there were these kids... It seems so silly right now, but they started pointing at me saying I was the daughter of the Blackhood, running away and screaming that they were going to die.”

“ Oh, Betts. Don’t listen to them. They’re just kids.”

“ But they’re not wrong, Jug. I am the daughter of the Blackhood! I scare kids and whenever I look into the mirror, I scare myself... I don’t even recognize my eyes anymore, Jug!” She placed a hand over her mouth, muffling the words that seemed to be the biggest lie of the world. “ I-I wonder if my eyes were the last thing all those people saw before he killed them. I think about that and I-I... I just want to rip them off!”

“ Hey, hey!” He said, cupping her face with his hands. His thumb wiped away the tears that were furiously falling, now, and as he held her closely, he looked deep into her beautiful, green eyes. If only she could see what he sees, she wouldn’t hate them at all. They’re so soft and full of hope. When they look at him so tenderly like they always do, they make him want to be a better person so she can always watch him and be proud of the things he’s doing. He loves those eyes— he loves her. And if anything, he wants her to love them as well. “ Betts, your eyes are not like his.”

“ Of course they are, Jug! They’re exactly the same.”

“ No, they’re not! I’ve see his eyes, Betty, and I promise you they’re not like yours. Your eyes are warm. They’re calm and they look so pure and sweet whenever you’re working on a new article for the Blue and Gold! God, your eyes… Betts, whenever you look at me, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. There’s no evil behind them. They’re beautiful.”

“ How do you know? How can you be so sure, Jug?”

“ Because even when you’re looking at your family photo, you don’t look at your father with hatred or anything like that. Even if you hate him, you still look at him with the tenderness of a daughter. Evil people are incapable of loving, Betty. And that’s not you, I promise. Okay?”

Tears were now falling flat on her sweater, as she kept looking at his own, loving eyes. Tears were probably stinging her own, emerald orbs now, and if he could, he would make all her pain go away in no time. He was really worried about her, for sure, but as she slowly nodded at his question, Jughead allowed himself to relax a bit. If anything, his words were always able to calm her down, and more than ever, he was glad they were also working during such ominous times.

She trusts him, and in the same way he believes her, she believes him with her whole heart.

If evil people are really incapable of loving, then she probably had nothing to worry about, for she loves him with all her heart. Betty is sure of her feelings for him, and for now, she chose to rely on them to get over her fears.

For now, even if the whole world was telling her she couldn’t run away from her father’s bloody legacy, she was going to use her love for him to prove them wrong.

“ Okay…” She whispered, her voice sounding a bit calmer now.

“ Good.” He whispered back, his eyes drifting to her soft lips moments before he leaned down to kiss her. It was a chaste, fast kiss, but it was enough to assure her that she was safe at that moment. “ Good.”

He was going to protect her. He was going to keep her safe, and whenever that darkness tries to return to torment her again, he will be there by her side to help her illuminate her own thoughts.

To help her look into her own eyes.

fin.

[lower-east-side]

Fool Me Once

This was in my WIPs as a possible beginning to a fic but I think it works as a standalone much better. It’s not Drarry... but think of it as a prelude to one of those ‘Draco is in Grimmauld Place for his own protection during the war and Harry falls in love with him’ fics. I fucking love those.

What if, in the summer before sixth year (when Draco was Marked and given his assignment by Voldemort and Narcissa saw it for the punishment and suicide mission it was) she went to Andromeda instead of Snape for help?

(1K, rated PG, unbetaed)

If there was one thing Narcissa Malfoy could not abide, it was the repetition of mistakes.

It was something her mother had drilled into her and her sisters at a tender young age.  They were punished accordingly for all their missteps, but breaking the same rule twice always drew much harsher consequences.  Druella was a strict disciplinarian, and it had the effect of pushing one daughter away entirely and another to cruelty.  

Narcissa was somewhat kinder in her view.  Everything could be a learning experience the first time, after all.  It was the failure to learn from one’s folly that was a problem.

Lucius found this out soon into their marriage.  A forgotten dinner event, Narcissa left waiting by the Floo in a stunning gown, a late arrival by her husband who’d double booked himself.  She smiled and brushed it off, telling him to please not let it happen again.  When it did, six months later, she slept alone in the East Wing for a week.  The lack of companionship with his still new wife drove the point home, and Lucius never forgot an engagement again.

Draco also learned.  “The peacocks are for visual amusement only, dear,” she told him, drying his tears and healing his pecked hand.  With a kiss to his six-year old forehead and an admonishment to never chase the regal birds again, she sent him on his way.  Shortly thereafter, he appeared in the parlour once more, lip trembling and blood spotting his index finger.  As soon as she determined the wound was minor and would not scar, she sternly told him that he would have to wait for the cut to heal itself.  The peacocks remained unmolested for the rest of their time at the Manor.

With such high expectations for her family, Narcissa couldn’t allow her own self the luxury of not learning from her past.  And that is how, on a balmy June evening, she found herself at the door of her long-estranged sister Andromeda, begging an audience.

No house elves greeted them, no servants took their coats.  Narcissa and Draco, who looked extremely uncomfortable and somewhat mutinous, stood in the foyer while Andromeda sized them up.

“It has been a very long time, sister.”

“Don’t call me that.”  Andromeda’s lips twisted, and Narcissa suddenly worried she would be pushed out the door physically.  Andi hadn’t been the most hands-on of the three - that was Bella, who delighted in yanking on her sister’s hair and tripping them at any opportunity - but life among the less refined could have changed her.  Of course, if things went her way, Narcissa herself would soon be living there as well, so she swallowed her pride.

“Forgive me, Andromeda.  I’m sorry to disturb you.  I wouldn’t have come if the situation wasn’t desperate.”  

“What do you want?”

“I think it would be best discussed inside.”

Nearly a minute passed as Andromeda considered her estranged sibling and nephew. Narcissa stood proud yet deferential under her gaze. Draco shifted his weight from foot to foot. It has taken a very stern word from his mother to get him to follow her tonight.

Finally Andromeda turned on her heel and made her way further into her modest home. Narcissa followed silently, understanding that she had been granted the opportunity to plead her case.

Andromeda sat heavily in a worn chair near the fire. “Go fetch the tea from the kitchen,” she said to Draco, who screwed his face up in confusion.

“I haven't any idea how to prepare-”

“It's already brewing. Just put the pot and cups and such on a tray and bring it in here.”

“I'm not a house elf.”

“Draco!” His mother’s sharp tone sent him scurrying for the tea.

“Lovely boy,” Andromeda said flatly. “Now tell me what you want before my husband returns.”

Narcissa steadied herself. Inside she railed against the idea of asking for help, but she knew it was her only hope.

“I won’t mince words.  The Dark Lord has seen fit to mutilate my only child.  With Lucius in prison, I’m his sole protection.  I won’t allow him to be dragged down and sent to Azkaban or worse.  He’s all I have.  Surely you can understand.”

Andromeda raised an eyebrow.  “Mutilate?  Did he take a hand off for another ritual?”  Obviously her Auror daughter had informed her of certain things.

This was tricky - the Mark was universally despised by those who opposed the Dark Lord.  But Narcissa knew she had to be honest.  Draco was only sixteen, hopefully they would overlook it.

“He Marked him.  He Marked my Draco.”

Andromeda gasped.  “He’s a Death Eater?  Cissy, you can’t just bring a Death Eater into my home!”  Narcissa noted the slip of her old nickname.

“He is NOT a Death Eater!  He’s a child!  I wasn’t informed.  Bella drug him away in the middle of the night and rent his very flesh!  When I saw it -”  She put her hand to her mouth.  “I could still smell the burning skin.  He’s my baby, Andromeda.”

Her sister was finally starting to look sympathetic.  Teenage angst threatened to ruin the scene, however, when Draco came back through the doorway.

“I’m not a baby,” he said sullenly, laying the tea tray down with a hard clank.

Narcissa glared at him.  “I held you when you took your first breath.  You will always be my baby.  Until the day you die, which I am trying to prevent.”

“And I am trying to restore father, to restore our place.”

“The task you have been set will not restore us!”

He blanched in shock, and Andromeda jumped in. “What task?”

Draco and Narcissa stared each other down, but only for a moment, as he ducked his head and slouched beside her. Her son successfully cowed, Narcissa turned back to her sister.

“You must promise that we will be protected.”

“Do you have information on You-Know-Who’s plans?”

“I'm serious, Andi. Protection and a guarantee that Draco won't be punished for what was done to him.”

“Cissy. Do. You. Have. Information.”

The moment of truth. Did she dare defy her husband? One glance at Draco's nervous face, pale and worried and oh so young, and her mind was made up.

“I’ll tell you everything.”

After all, the Dark Lord had not learned from his mistakes, either.  It was a mother’s love that had brought him down before.

[diyarlight]

Empty Place

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Prompt: (anon request) Can you make an image where Reid is secretly in love with the reader and he always acts weirdly around her. One day when Penelope is exposing(?) the case the reader finds out that an important old friend died and she's destroyed so Reid tries to solace her and he takes care about her more than ever, he tries to make her laugh and other things... love how you write❤️

I hope you like it anon! Also, this is unbeta so please excuse any mistakes! 

“Hey, it’s me Y/N. I am coming back home for a case, so I was wondering if we could hang out after that? I was thinking of taking a week off, so maybe I could stay at your place and we could spend some time together? It’ll be fun and we haven’t really seen each other for a long time. So call me back when you’re free. Bye.” She ended the voicemail, still frowning over the fact that her best friend didn’t take the call. She shoves my cell back in, joining the team as Penelope showed up on the screen.

“Hello, my lovely crimefighters! I just got an ID on our last victim. Her name is Olivia Carter-“

“What?”

The team turned to Y/N in confusion, but she didn’t notice it though. All her focus was on the tech analyst, who was looking confused as everyone. “Did you just say Olivia Carter?”

“Yeah, she was reported missing this morning by her husband-“

“But I talked to her last night. There’s no way that she is the victim Garcia.”

“The dentals matched and the clothes she had on matched the ones reported… oh my god,” Garcia gasped, suddenly understanding why Y/N is reacting this way.

“No, you’re wrong Garcia. There is no way Olivia is dead okay!” Y/N screamed, her body shaking. Spencer, her boyfriend, quickly gets up and tries to reach out to her but she flinches away. Spencer slows down, holding his hands to show that he means no harm. “She can’t be dead,” Y/N whispers, whether to her and to the team is unclear.

“Y/N,” Spencer calls out, dread in his voice as she doesn’t respond to him. He can see how pale she became, and her body doesn’t stop shaking. He quickly grabs her when her legs give out. She doesn’t move away from him, but instead buries her head against his chest and lets out painful sobs. He shields her away from the team, who thankfully divert their eyes away from them. They knew how much Y/N hated to show her weakness to anyone, yet they needed to know everything about their victim, and Y/N is the only one right now to provide answers.

Spencer looked up to the rest of the group with teary eyes, noting the guilt and pity on their faces. Hotch looked grim, looking like he didn’t want to do this yet he knew he has to. JJ came forward and rested a hand on the grieving girl’s body, silently trying to comfort her. “Y/N, I am so sorry,” Hotch felt guilty for what he was about to do. She looks up at him, red eyes filled with pain. “But you were the last person to talk to Olivia, so-“

“Hotch do we need to do this right now?” Spencer spits out, his eyes bright with fire as he stared at his boss. Couldn’t he give her some time to grieve before he asked questions?

“No,” Y/N whispered, her voice cracking. “We need to do it right now to catch that son of a bitch.” She reluctantly turns her body away from Spencer, but he doesn’t let go of the arm around her waist. Morgan, Rossi, and Blake were giving her such pitying looks that she forced herself to look at her boss’s sympathetic eyes. She felt JJ close to her, thankful for her friends’ silent comfort.

“Did Olivia tell you where she was going the last time you talked to her?”

“She said that she was at home. It was late at night, I think around 11 when I called her, so she always made sure that she would be back at home before 10. She said it was because of my horror case stories that made sure she would always go back to home at night.” A nostalgic smile is on Y/N’s face as she remembered a horrified Olivia as she talked about her cases and why should always be careful. It quickly shifted into a heartbroken expression, and Spencer yearned to comfort the woman with all he could. But he knew that this was important, so he kept quiet but he reassured her by gently rubbing her back in comfort.  

“What did you and Olivia talk about last night?”

“She wanted me to come back home,” she answered, fresh tears streaming down her face as she remembered the excited voice of her best friend. “She always tells me that though, but this time she was excited about something. She wouldn’t tell me on the phone, but she was clearly happy about something.”

“How long have you known Olivia?”

A lost look comes on Y/N’s face, her eyes not focusing on the present. “She is-“ she stops to take a deep breath to not let the cry come out. “She is my best friend for 25 years now. She is almost like my sister, you know. I knew everything about her and vice versa. She was so mad at me when I left our hometown, but she understood. She always did, no matter what.”

No one correct Y/N’s use of present tense, keeping silence as Hotch continued to take on the lead. “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt Olivia? Her husband perhaps?”

“No, Percy would never do that. They were high school sweethearts, everyone in the town knew that they would get married when they started dating. No, Percy could have never-“ she broke off, looking away as a new wave of grief washed over her. What was going to happen to Percy now?

“So whatever Olivia did, the entire town would know about it?”

Y/N solemnly nodded, sniffing as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “It’s why I wanted to leave. Someone’s business was everyone’s business in that town, and I hated that. There was no privacy and everyone knew everyone. I shouldn’t have left, then Olivia wouldn’t-“

“Hey listen to me,” Spencer interrupts, cupping Y/N’s face to force her eyes to meet his. “It’s not your fault Y/N, don’t ever think like that.”

She slightly nodded, leaning into Spencer who continued to hold her. The rest didn’t say anything for few minutes, feeling remorse for what their friend is going through. Hotch cleared his throat, either trying to regain the attention of Y/N or get a grip on his own emotions, Spencer didn’t know.

“Usually, I wouldn’t have let you be on the case, however, I think it would be better if we have your insight. You know this town better than anyone.”

“You really think it’s someone from the town?” Y/N knew that they were right, however, it didn’t feel right.

Hotch nodded. “However you won’t be on the field.”

With that and the plane soon landing, the rest of the team shifted to prepare to land soon, but Spencer didn’t leave her for a second. As soon as they land, Hotch pulled Spencer away from the group for a minute. “Reid? After we give our profile, I want you to take Y/N to the hotel,” his boss ordered and received a nod from the genius.

Hotch resisted his urge to sigh as he watched the genius quickly walk next to Y/N, holding her as they walked to the car. The team always tried to not make a case personal, however, this was going to be gruesome.

….

After giving the profile to the police and catching the son of a bitch, Y/N became quiet. Almost too quiet. There was a blank look on a face, but her team could see the lost look in her eyes. Spencer gently urged her to the car, and he became worried over how unresponsive she was during the car ride. However, at one point, she told him to take a right. He hesitated at first but continued to follow her directions as she led him to a park. She got out as soon as the car stop, but Spencer didn’t try to stop her. She walked until she came in front of a particular tree and he stood few feet away as he watched her put a hand on the tree.

“We would come here whenever we wanted to tell a secret,” Y/N spoke out loud, her back still facing Spencer. “This was our safe place in a way because here we could tell each other everything and know that we would be near hurt by the other person. And now she's really gone."

"I am so sorry Y/N." He took a step closer when she turned to him. Her grief broke his heart, and he wanted to comfort her but he knew that she was still processing the loss.

"I don't know what to do Spence," she mumbled, bringing her arms across herself, hugging herself for comfort. "She was terrified of something happening to me, but the opposite happened. I always thought that she would be safe. I feel so empty right now Spencer, I don’t know what to do.”

“When Gideon died,” Spencer started, “All I felt was an empty place in my heart. As time went by, the empty place didn’t go away, but it became better to live with it."

She takes a step closer to him, allowing him to hug her as she rested her head on his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered. He looked down at her in confusion. “For what?”

“For being here with me.”

[forestiyari]

Communication

Rating: E, Ship: Captain Swan

Disclaimer: None of the OUAT world belongs to me.

So this is my soft re-entry into the world of fic writing.

It’s a silly, smutty one-shot that wouldn’t leave my head while I worked on longer things.  Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are my own.

TIA to anyone that reads!

Set directly after 6x17

Communication

The walk back to the house is charged, littered with touches and caresses, brief pecks foreshadowing the main event.

Henry's wrinkled nose and refusal to meet their eyes as he volunteered to stay at Regina's that night spoke volumes but neither Emma nor Killian could find it in themselves to be embarrassed.  Yes, her parents had been separated for longer than they had and she knows it's selfish to be running off, barely pausing for the customary threeway hug Snow and David have been unable to give her for the last few weeks before almost throwing her brother into their arms, but right now there's something else she needs.

The fingers of Killian's right hand play with those of her left as they walk, every few seconds touching on the ring there, reminding her of its prescence and sending a shot of light through her stomach.

There are seven "I love you"s, twelve "I missed you"s and three "I'm sorry"s exchanged along Main Street and she loses count of the kisses.

"You're so beautiful."  Killian mutters as they push the front door closed, dipping his head to capture her lips fully, the way he's been dying to since she said yes.  The kiss is heated, yes, but it's also deep, and slow, an expression of everything they've been saying, feeling and longing since being reunited.  There's no battling of tongues, just a deep carress as they remind themselves of each other.  It's an intimacy neither once believed they deserved and now cannot get enough of.

Eventually they break apart, foreheads resting together as they whisper their affections once more.

Killian tugs on her hand, brings it to his lips as he steps back towards the stairs

"Marry me?"  He grins over her knuckles.

"Yes."  Emma matches his smile and follows him unresisting

"Marry me?"  He says again as they reach the top of the stairs, pushing her jacket from her shoulders and tugging gently on the hem of her top.

"Yes."  She mutters against his lips as she helps him lift it over her head.

They're drunk on each other and unwilling to lose any physical connection for even a second.  They have each other back and they're not letting go.  Emma's not quite sure how they make it to the bed, but she's not surprised that she's naked and he's not, knelt on the floor between her knees, shirt and jeans unbuttoned as he peppers kisses over her thighs and pushes her gently back to her elbows.  She forces her eyes to stay open, to meet his as he presses his lips to her navel, her hips, her mound and finally lower, his fingers parting her folds gently to give his tongue access as his hook caresses her ass.  He alternates between long, slow, sweeping licks and short tapping motions directly against her clit, throwing in an occasional circling that builds her up slowly, higher and higher.  He's guided by her responses, assessing how best to apply his attentions and moans deeply as he pushes his tongue deep into her cunt, loving her answering keen.

The slow build can't last forever and he shifts the pace, entering her with his fingers, stroking her walls as his mouth focusses entirely on her clit and she can't help but let her head fall back to the mattress and her eyes drift closed as her entire world reduces to the man between her legs and the feelings he evokes in her.  He licks, circles, scrapes and eventually sucks, drawing a cry from her lips as she climbs higher than ever before.

"Killian," she moans, "I'm- there... Just.... Yes... There."  She presses against his face, chasing her release and he knows exactly what she needs, keeping the pressure and motion consistent until she falls apart, crying his name again with her release.  He stokes her through it, easing her down without pushing her over to discomfort.

When she opens her eyes he's standing over her, reaching into his pocket for his phone.  She used to find his obsession with her embarrassing, but now post-coital photographs are not only routine but comforting- another way he shows her how much he treasures her.  Killian reaches over, taking her left hand and placing it between her breasts, diamond clearly displayed.

"Damn," he growls as he finally draws out his phone and his face darkens, "forgot about the damn battery being dead."

"Use mine."  She offers and he raises an eyebrow in surprise before reaching for her jeans on the floor.  He's so focussed when he does this, lining her up, eyes flickering between her and the screen and while the break in passion should be dampening, it only increases the anticipation.  Emma can't help but play to him; leaving her left hand where he's placed it but bringing her right to her stomach, splaying the fingers wide before moving them up to cup her breast and then stroke over her nipple.  She draws her lower lip into her mouth, knowing how it makes him, and watches his eyes darken before he shoves the phone into his pocket roughly and leans over her.

The kiss is almost harsh this time, rough, the tender emotions pushed aside as the wild, desperate, darker ones take over.  Killian's hand and hook are under her ass, pushing her up the bed as he crawls over her and as soon as her head reaches the pillow she brings her hands up to roam over his chest, pulling on the hair there, drawing a moan from his throat before she reaches to push his shirt from his shoulders, her right foot up over his hips pushing his weight to her core while her heel desperately tries to find a way to push his jeans further down.  She growls in frustration as his shirt catches awkwardly on his brace and his pants stubbornly refuse to budge and he chuckles darkly against her lips

"Patience, Swan."  His tone belies his words and she rolls her hips against his to show just how little patience she has right now.

"Slow later, Pirate, I need you now."  He rocks back, kneeling between her legs as he unsnaps his brace and pulls it off without untangling the shirt.  There's a dull 'ding' from somewhere and a part of Emma's brain registers it as a text message arriving.  Probably Henry asking her to bring his books to school tomorrow.  She'll check later.

"Need me how, Swan?  Where?"  Hook's tone is sultry, sending chills straight through her.  "Here?"  He leans down and kisses her lips chastly. "Or here?"  He rolls a tongue over her nipple, before pulling back, resisting her hands pulling him back down for more.  She's not in the mood for teasing though and as soon as he's pushed his jeans over his hips, allowing his erection to spring free, she springs, maneuvering them until he's pressed into the mattress and she's straddling his hips, the jeans around his thighs impeding his resistance.  She lines her entrance up with his cock and lowers herself gently but purposefully, enjoying the harmony of their joint moans as they join together for the first time in too long.

"Killian."  She moans,

"Emma, gods."  He replies and, motionless, they take each other in for a second, eyes locked.  He licks his lips and moves his hand and stump to her hips as a low ringing and buzzing begins behind her.  Her phone.  "Leave it."  He groans as if she had plans to do otherwise.  Eventually the noise stops and she leans back, bracing her hands against his thighs as she begins a steady rhythm.

She's a goddess above him, pale skin almost glowing in the dim light of the room, hair cascading like a waterfall of gold; she truly is his treasure, his happy ending and he'd do anything for her.  The slow glide of her walls against him is perfect, walking the edge between climbing and falling and he longs to feel her come around him.  He forces himself up against the headboard, careful not to throw off her rhythm, taking one nipple in his mouth, massaging the other with the scars of his wrist and dragging his thumb down to massage her clit, the gasps and groans she lets out at his ministrations only serving to heighten his arousal.  He's not sure how he manages to hold back his release, determined to watch hers, adoring the cry as she falls apart, clenching around him.  He wants to capture that moment forever; Emma Swan without walls, without worries, coming apart just for him.  But before she has the chance to come down properly the bloody phone is ringing again and he knows there won't be a chance for a third from her tonight.  Selfishly he flips her over, ignoring the vibration against his thigh and driving into her roughly until he too feels his release overcome him and collapses on top of her.

They know they have little time to bask in the afterglow, but that's not new for them.  They know to take the quiet moments as they come, push their advantage.  Killian rolls off her but refuses to let her go without another slow, deep kiss and Emma's not exactly pulling back.  When they do eventually pull apart she grins up at him.

"Marry me?"  She asks.

"With pleasure."  He grins back, reaching behind him for the wet wipes on the side table, refusing to take his eyes from her.

The front door closes with a bang and they start.  Surely it's too late for Henry to have come from Regina's alone but everyone else would knock at least.  Killian jumps up, out of the bed, easily covering himself with his jeans before throwing Emma her shirt.  Whoever's here has yet to pause, and their footsteps can be heard outside the bedroom door before they bang forcefully against it.

"Emma, honey?  Killian?"  Snow's voice is sharp, as regal as he's heard in a while.  He looks over to Emma, sure he shouldn't be the one to open the door right now.

"Mom?"  Her voice is on the high side, he's not sure if she's panicking or just embarrassed.  "Just a minute."

"Oh no, you don't need to stop."  He raises an eyebrow at that and she seems just as puzzled.  "Just... Could you make sure to lock your phone before continuing?"  Killian gasps, reaching to his jeans pocket.  Emma actually squeaks.  "Okay, bye, have fun!"  Snow's words rush out and her footsteps recede through the house, the front door closing again with a resounding thud.

"Bloody hell."  There are no words to describe just how awful the sight before Killian is.

"How bad?"  Emma asks and as he plays with the screen it only gets worse- the three missed calls from Snow nestled between outgoing calls to David is bad enough but pulling up the messages...

Five photo messages delivered.

He's never going to be able to face her father again.

He hands over the phone and gets out through gritted teeth;

"Wedding in the Underworld sound good?"

[originalhybridloverfics]

Why Can't We Be Like That - Ch.11 - Olicity Fic

Chapter 12: Chapter Eleven Summary: Felicity has a second sesson with Dr. Danvers. A/N: Okay, so I want to address a couple things. I know as a writer I should be bias but I am firmly team Felicity and that might come across in my story but that doesn't mean I have anything against Oliver. I just think Oliver has some growth to do in my story. Secondly, it occured to me that I might be offending some with the therapy session scenes and that is not my attention. If it really bothers anyone I'm sorry. And I hope you can forgive my inaccuracies. Also I'm not a very emotional person, its something i struggle with but I hope I manage to get the emotion to come across in my stories. This is unbetaed, so all my mistakes are my own. My grammar could use some work so i'm sure there are some mistake. Hopefully there aren't too many though. Thank you to everyone whose still reading. Happy reading.:) Felicity looked up when she heard someone sit in the booth across from her at Big Belly Burger. She had left the office after working late and decided to get some take out and figured she go to her favorite diner. “Hey, it’s a bit late to be in the Glades by yourself.” Roy frowned at her. “I was working late and was craving the food from one of my favorite places. It just happens to be in the glades.” Felicity gave a careless shrug. “What are you doing here?” “I live around here remember?” Roy teased, knowing she did know where he lived, having come to see Thea at his place on more than one occasion. “I meant here as in Big Belly.” Felicity rolled her eyes. “Wanted to grab a bite to eat before I need to head in for my late shift at the club.” “How’s working there going?” Felicity wondered. “I get to punch assholes in the face when they don’t know how to back off so it’s going pretty good in my opinion.” Felicity’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought you were bartending?” “Oh, I am but beating up assholes and throwing them out is my favorite part.” He gave a crooked grin. “I can see how you clearly enjoy that.” Felicity replied teasingly. “Usually when you’re here I see you with Digg or Sara.” Roy commented. “Why are you here alone?” “I just wanted some time to myself.” Almost every time she was with her family or her friends Oliver always became the topic of discussion and she didn’t want to hear for the billionth time how she should consider what Oliver went through, how he was feeling. Okay she was probably exaggerating, It wouldn’t be for the billionth time but she was only exaggerating a little. It was like what she went through, what she felt came second to what Oliver was feeling. Roy nodded. “Let me know when you get ready to leave. I’ll walk you to your car. The last place a woman by herself should be is in the glades at night.” Felicity appreciated his concern but it was unnecessary to her. She was capable of taking care of herself. “You don’t have to get a different table.” Felicity frowned. It would be rude to make Roy go to another table. Not if he didn’t want to. “We can share the booth.” “Are you sure? I thought you wanted some time to yourself?” Roy sat back down slowly. “As long as we don’t start talking about Oliver, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed.” “Why the hell would I want to talk about that asshole?” Roy scoffed, a frown marring his jawline. Felicity quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “What did he do to you?” “He didn’t have to do anything to me. What he did to you was a dick move. You deserved better than him just bailing on you.” “Huh?” Felicity tilted her head at him. “You’re the first person not to tell me I need to consider his feelings.” “Screw his feelings.” Roy shook his head. “Let’s talk about something else. Talking about Oliver just makes me want to punch something.” “I’m sure that makes things easy with you and Thea. Thoughts of her brother inspiring violence in you.” Felicity teased lightly. “It keeps things interesting.” Roy said, waving over a waitress and ordering. They fell into a comfortable silence until his food was delivered. “Are you going to this fancy party or whatever this weekend?” “Yeah.” Felicity nodded. “I assume Thea’s dragging you to the Gala.” “Unfortunately.” Roy mumbled, the fancy parties were never his thing. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.” “You say that now but wait till we’re actually attending this thing and you’ll be wishing for an escape.” Roy popped a fry into his mouth. “That’s probably true but unlike you I have no responsibilities to anyone whose going to be there and can leave anytime I wish.” Roy mock glared at her. “Your horrible.” “No, I’m not.” Felicity smiled amused. “You’re right you’re not but the least you can do is offer to keep me company when Thea’s busy mingling with the rich.” “I suppose I could do that for a friend.” Felicity conceded. “Psh. Friend. We know I’m more like another brother and on that note anytime you want Oliver punched in the face just say the word.” Felicity’s lips lifted into the smallest of smiles but it was still a smile nonetheless. And Roy took a sense of success in that smile after noticing her when he first come in, seeing her eating by herself, looking like she hadn’t smiled in days. He was at least glad that he could offer even a little bit of comfort and good company to her enough to get any semblance of a smile no matter how small. “Can you stop picking at your dinner like a bird and actually eat?” Roy motion to her food which Felicity had been tearing her sandwich apart but not eating it. Felicity sighed and instead tore off a small piece of fry and popped into her mouth, chewing slowly aware. She ate what she could but she wasn’t all that hungry but knew she needed to eat, she was pretty sure if she wasn’t so aware of Roy’s observant gaze she would have just ended up pushing her food around and not actually eating it. Even so Felicity missed Roy’s look of concern. ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ “How would you describe your relationships with your friends and family?” Dr. Danvers inquired. Felicity paused. It sounded like a pretty straight forward and simple question but for her it was more complicated than simple. “It’s complicated.” She settled on. “And was that always the case or is that a recent development?” “Things changed after the accident and then again recently.” “And what changed?” “After the accident and the lost of our son, Oliver joined the army but now he’s back and it’s complicated things because we have the same circle of friends and I don’t know I guess they feel torn between us. Not to mention he’s best friends with my older brother.” “Tell me is your history with Oliver complicating your relationships with the people in your life or is it the accident itself?” “I don’t know.” Felicity sighed. “I think it’s Oliver and myself that’s made things with my family and friends so complicated.” “How so?” “Things just aren’t good between us.” Felicity grabbed her bag, fiddling with the zipper needing to be doing something with her hands. “He comes back and he expects everything to be, I don’t know, like it was before the accident and it can’t be. And I can’t just pretend like he didn’t abandon me when I needed him the most.” The more she spoke about it the angrier she got. “How does he think he can come back here and expect things from me when he was the one who left?” “And what do your friends and family think?” Felicity frowned. “They think I should consider Oliver’s side of things. But what about my side of things? What about how I feel? It’s like everything I went through doesn’t matter on the larger scale compared to Oliver’s pain. And how is that fair?” “It’s not.” Dr. Danvers told her. “And it’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to feel frustrated and angry.” “Is it? Cause it doesn’t feel that way. Not when everyone tells me I should consider Oliver’s pain. They all keep saying their not taking sides but it doesn’t sound that way. It doesn’t feel that way. It feels like their choosing Oliver and I’m the one in the wrong here.” Frustration came off her in waves, she felt the sting of angry tears, and removed her glasses rubbing at them. “It feels like I don’t have the right to be angry or frustrated or sad. Like I’m the one at fault here for everything.” “Felicity,” Dr. Danvers held a large note of compassion in her tone. “None of what happened is your fault. Your father dying, the loss of your child, the accident, Oliver leaving, none of that is your fault.” “But isn’t it?” Felicity had slipped her glasses back on and looked back to Dr. Danvers. “No.” Dr. Danvers shook her head. “It’s not. It may feel that way but it is not your fault. And your friends and your family telling you over and over that you need to think about Oliver in all of this isn’t doing you any favors in realizing that you did nothing wrong.” And despite being upset and frustrated Felicity felt the need to come to the defense of her friends. “They mean well.” “I didn’t say they didn’t but sometimes the most well meaning intentions do more harm than good. They may think their helping but their not. Their manipulating you, making you feel worse than you already do in hopes that you’ll do what they want and accept Oliver and this misplaced blame that this is your fault. They may not even be aware that that is what they are doing but that doesn’t make it okay.” Dr. Danvers stressed. “The people who are supposed to be supportive and helping you through this difficult time, making your life better have surrounded you in this toxic environment that is not helping you but only makes things worse for you in the long run.” Felicity frown as she thought over what Dr. Danvers was saying. “I don’t..I don’t know what to do. Their my family, it’s not like I can just cut them out of my life.” “And I’m not saying you should.” Dr. Danvers assured her. Felicity’s brow creased in confusion. “Then what are you saying?” She questioned carefully. “Felicity this is only our second session and I can already read between the lines and know that you feel like you can’t be angry. Like you don’t have the right to be frustrated and upset. You feel like the last thing you should be doing is raging against the people in your life. You’re bottling up all these negative emotions inside and that’s not good for you. It’s not healthy.” Felicity resisted the instinct to get up and just leave because everything Dr. Danvers was saying was exactly what she felt and she suddenly felt very transparent sitting there across from Dr. Danvers like nothing was hidden, like everything she’s ever been through and felt was at the surface, exposed for the world to see. In that moment she felt so vulnerable, that she would shatter like glass if handled wrong. Felicity hated the feeling. She didn’t want to be vulnerable. She didn’t want to shatter, she felt like she was barely holding it together as it was. When you were vulnerable you can be hurt. And God, she was so tired of hurting, of feeling. It was just easier to bottle everything and push it so far deep down inside that she only felt what she wanted to feel even if what she wanted to feel was nothing. “It may seem easier right now to just push what your feeling away but you shouldn’t.” Dr. Danvers said meaningfully as if she saw exactly what Felicity had been thinking. “You have the right to feel sad about what happened. You have the right to feel disappointed in your family, you have the right to be upset with your friends, you have the right to feel frustrated and you have the right to be angry with Oliver. With everyone.” Felicity looked up at that, feeling the ever present knot of guilt for feeling the way she did ease. “And you shouldn’t have to hide what you’re feeling. If you need to yell and rant and rage then do it. Don’t be scared of hurting anyone’s feelings.” Dr. Danvers continued, catching Felicity’s eye. “You have the right to tell your friends that you don’t want or need their opinions. You have the right to tell your family how much it hurt that they couldn’t stand beside you. And you have the right to rage at Oliver and tell him he has no right demanding anything from you.” As Felicity listened to Dr. Danvers words she felt a weight lift off her chest, a sense of relief washing over her. For once she didn’t feel like she was in the wrong. Maybe this therapy thing wasn’t such a bad idea. Perhaps it was exactly what she needed. “Felicity, don’t hold back on what you’re feeling. Bottling everything you’re feeling is not helping you in the long run. Express what you’re feeling no matter how harsh or brutal or ugly it might be. Your family, your friends, Oliver, may not like it but I think it’s time that they realize what they have been doing has been everything but helpful. And I promise you’ll be better for it, that pit, that knot in your stomach that you undoubtedly feel will loosen and you’ll feel better for it. Trust me.” ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ Felicity browse the frozen ice cream section until she found the kind she wanted, she just placed it in her cart when she heard the excited voice of her nephew. “Aunt Felicity!” Right before a small body slammed into her, small arms wrapping around her legs. Felicity grinned and scooped him into her arms. “There’s my little man. What are you doing here? Hmm?” “Shopping.” AJ gave a shrug. “AJ, what have I told you about running off.” Carly scolded. AJ turned his head to look at his mom. “But I saw Aunt Felicity.” He said it as if that explained everything. “I can see that but I still don’t want you running off.” Carly said sternly before looking to Felicity with a smile. “Hey Felicity, getting some shopping in?” “Yeah, I managed to get everything done at work early so I figured why not? You?” “Just getting a few things before I need to drop AJ off at his friends house.” “We’re having a sleepover.” AJ exclaimed excitedly. “Oh, really, a sleepover and you didn’t invite me?” Felicity grinned down at the boy. “It’s not for grown ups.” AJ scrunched up his face. “Oh, damn, that’s too bad.” Felicity pouted. “Maybe you can have one with mommy.” AJ suggested. “I’m sure your mother will want to spend time with your dad.” Felicity said, smiling in Carly’s direction. “Daddy’s at work.” AJ shook his head. “And mommy’s gonna be by herself tonight.” “Alright, blabber mouth, c’mere.” Carly reached her arms out for her son, Felicity handed him over to her. “That’s enough of telling mommy’s plans for the leaving.” Carly rolled her eyes, sharing a look with Felicity. “But if you want to come over for dinner, I’m not opposed to some company.” Felicity had planned on spending her evening, catching up on her shows that have been recorded on her DVR for two weeks now and it was easier being by herself. Felicity hesitated on answering not wanting to come off rude or hurt Carly’s feelings. “You don’t have to, of course.” Carly told her. “I understand if you rather spend you’re evening alone.” And Felicity smiled gratefully. “Thank you for understanding. I just want some time to myself.” Carly nodded in understanding, reaching out and giving Felicity’s hand a comforting squeeze, AJ looking between them with furrowed brows. “Why would you want to be alone?” “Sometimes grownups just need some time to themselves.” Carly told him. “Even you, Mommy?” “Even me.” “Grownups are weird.” Carly huffed a laugh, shaking her head and sharing a look of amusement with Felicity. ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ Felicity glanced up at the small house from her car, parked in front of the home, hesitating. She had been at home watching her shows but she couldn’t get her mind to quiet down enough to really pay attention to what was happening. Instead she kept thinking about her session with Dr. Danvers and how finally talking about it while it was helping it was also making the bad memories come back to the surface and with them the pain and she suddenly didn’t want to be alone. She thought about calling Sara but decided against it, feeling like she couldn’t really reach out to her not unless she wanted to hear more about how she should consider things from Oliver’s perspective. And she didn’t want to burden her mother. And found herself here. But now that she was just outside she was second guessing her decision to come here instead. She took a deep breath, letting it out before forcing herself to get out of her car, go up to the home and knock on the door before she changed her mind. But not five seconds after knocking she decided she shouldn’t be bothering anyone with this. She could handle it on her own. It’s what she has always done. “This was a bad idea.” She muttered, turning back around and walking back to her car. She was halfway down the walkway when she heard her name. “Felicity?” She turned back around and saw Carly standing there with a confused look. “Um, I was just leaving.” She mumbled. “Okay but correct me if I’m wrong you came here for a reason.” She stepped out onto her porch. “I did but I changed my mind.” Felicity muttered. “I was..” She sighed, looking away from Carly. “I was having a bad night. It just one of those nights, you know? When it’s like it just happened yesterday.” Her voice cracked a ball of emotion lodging in her throat, she took a moment to clear her throat. “I didn’t want to be alone and I didn’t know where else to go.” Carly gave her a soft smile, one full of kindness and understanding, pushing her front door open wide, she nodded her head in the direction of the house and stepped aside. “Come inside.” Felicity hesitated. “I don’t want to bother you.” “You’re not.” Carly assured her. “Besides I could use the company, too.” “Okay.” Felicity said after a moment, walking up the steps and into Carly’s home. “I just finished eating dinner but there are some leftovers if you’re hungry?” Carly said, walking deeper into her home, toward the living room and Felicity trailed behind her. “Thank you but no. However I wouldn’t say no to some ice cream.” “Mint chip, right?” Carly walked toward the kitchen and Felicity followed. “If you have it.” “Well, you’re in luck, I like to have Mint Chip from time to time myself.” She said grabbing the ice cream from the freezer. “Could you grab us two bowls from the cabinet on the right and two wine glasses?” Felicity nodded, retrieving the two bowls setting them on the island counter and then turning back to get the requested wine glasses. “Any chance you have any red wine.” Carly nodded. “Fortunately, I do.” She set a bottle of red onto the counter “Oh, you are too kind.” Felicity reached for the wine. “Wine opener?” “Second cabinet on the left.” Felicity retrieved the wine opener and used it to open the wine as Carly filled the two bowls with ice cream and grabbed two spoons. “Living room?” Felicity nodded, grabbing up the two wine glasses and the bottle of red, following Carly to the living room and settling on the couch. “So what are you feeling?” Carly wondered settling the bowls on the coffee table in front of the couch reaching for the TV remote? “Romance? Comedy? Horror?” Felicity tilted her head. “Hmm,” Setting the wine glasses on the table and the bottle of red, settling back on the other end of the couch. “How about a ridiculous sitcom?” She suggested. She didn’t want watch no damn romance flick or horror movie. “Alright.” Carly flipped through the channels settling on some old reruns of an old sitcom that came on regularly. Felicity poured the wine into the two wine glasses, placing one in front of Clary on the coffee table and Carly handed her a bowl of the ice cream and settled back onto the couch. She half expected Carly to start asking her questions, prodding her to talk and felt relief when Carly simply started talking about how AJ was doing in school, how things were at Big Belly Burger and how Andy had started working night shifts more often the last few weeks and the only questions she asked her was how work was going? Not prodding Felicity at all. Felicity remembered Carly’s offer to be there if she needed to talk and was relieved that Carly wasn’t pushing for her to. She didn’t feel pressured into anything like she had to talk because she owe some kind of explanation to her, like the way she felt when Sara, Thea or Digg tried to get her to talk. She took a small drink of her wine, while listening to Carly, feeling like she could just sit without Carly expecting anything from her. Almost an hour later found her on her fourth glass of wine and at some point Carly and her had turned the channel to How I Met Your Mother, but when the scene when Lily leaves for San Francisco came on Felicity surprisingly found herself talking to Carly about Oliver or ranting was more like it. “He’s the one who left. Not me but somehow I’m the one to blame. I’m the one whose the problem.” “You did nothing wrong, ‘Licity.” Carly said instantly. “If Oliver wanted to be with you he should have stayed.” “Exactly! What kind of crap is it that I’m the one whose to blame just because he’s back now. And I’m supposed to what just forgive him for abandoning me in the worst time of my life.” “I wouldn’t.” Carly said pouring her another glass of wine after realizing it was empty. “If Andy did to me what Oliver did to you I would slam the damn door in his face. Oliver has some nerve.” “Now’s there’s a thought.” Said Felicity, pointing at her. “That, that is a good idea! A great idea! That’s an idea I can get behind. I love your ideas Carly.” Carly gave a chuckle. “I think you’re a little drunk, Felicity.” “No, I’m not.” Felicity paused, glancing at her near empty glass. “I’ve only had like three maybe four..” She trailed off. “Okay, I might be slightly drunk but not enough where I don’t know what I’m saying.” She paused. “Why does Oliver think he can come back here and expect me to just fall in his arms and to pick things up like none of the past has happened.” “I think It’s how he was raised. Whenever he screwed up or made a mistake, he’s always had his family or his family’s money there to fix things for him. But they can’t do that this time and he’s just now realizing that this is something he can’t just sweep under the rug and he doesn’t know how to deal with that.” Carly wasn’t sure what went on in Oliver’s mind but she didn’t really care. What he did was wrong and he should have to deal with the consequences of his poor decisions. “But I don’t much care about what he wants.” “Me neither.” Felicity grumbled. “He left me.” She felt the burn of tears and she tried to blink them back. “God, I hate crying. Oliver doesn’t deserve my tears. I hate being weak.” “Hey, you’re not weak.” Carly grasped her hand. “You’re right Oliver doesn’t deserve you crying over him. He doesn’t deserve anything from you besides a punch in his face or anywhere else you might want to hit him.” Felicity gave a watery laugh at that, as her eyes shined with unshed tears. “But you are not weak. Crying doesn’t make you weak, Felicity.” Carly continued, placing her wine glass on the table while keeping Felicity hand in her own. “You are one of the strongest people I know. I couldn’t go through what you’ve been though and still come out the other side. I can’t imagine ever losing AJ and then have Andy abandon me, not to mention losing my father. I wouldn’t survive it.” Carly’s hand tightened around Felicity’s in comfort. “Honestly, I don’t know how you have. You’re stronger than even you know. It’s okay to cry, it doesn’t make you weak.” Felicity nodded jerkily, a quiet sob building in her chest and getting stuck in her throat, the tears escaping her eyes creating wet trails down her cheeks. “And I don’t think you’re crying for Oliver.” Carly murmured softly, brushing Felicity’s hair back from her tear stained cheeks. “I think you’re crying for all that you’ve lost and that is okay. Your crying for what you and Oliver could have had, for your father and for your son, for yourself and there is nothing wrong with that. Nothing.” A sob tore through Felicity’s chest, emotion clogging her throat and she set her glass down shakily before covering her face, crying into her hands, her shoulders shaking. “Come here.” Carly pulled her hands from her face gently, pulling Felicity into her arms and Felicity clutched at her sister-in-law, allowing herself to actually break in front of someone. Carly rubbed Felicity’s back comfortingly, feeling her shoulders shake with the force, she was glad to be some kind of help to Felicity no matter how small but she hated that Felicity was hurting so much and no one seemed to care because they were too busy caring about Oliver’s pain. When Felicity’s tears finally subsided she pulled back from Carly. “Thank you. Thank you for listening and just being here.” “Of course.” Carly told her, rising from her couch. “I think we had enough wine, I’ll be right back.” “Okay.” Felicity mumbled, settling back against the couch cushions as Carly gathered up their bowls, wine glasses and near empty bottle of wine. However when Carly returned to the living room a few moments later she found Felicity had fallen asleep on the couch. She went to the linen closet and retrieved a blanket and a pillow. She gently lifted Felicity’s head, sliding the pillow beneath her head and to Carly’s surprise was able to do so without waking her. She shook out the blanket and placed it over Felicity, tucking her in. She turned off the TV, followed by the light. Felicity settled deeper into the couch her hands curling toward her chest, clutching the blanket to her but she didn’t wake. Carly went about cleaning up the kitchen. She was glad that Felicity had decided to come over and that she could just listen and allow her sister-in-law to vent. She hoped it helped Felicity. Even if it was just a little. And she hoped after tonight Felicity would know that if she ever needed to talk, needed someone to listen. She would do that for her. She knew Felicity and her weren’t as close as her and Lyla or her and Sara but she would be here for her if that was what she needed. ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ Felicity awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs the next morning, she sat up slowly, pushing off the couch and found Carly at the stove and her brother Andy, drinking a cup of coffee. Andy looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and offered his sister a smile. “Morning or afternoon as it were.” “Afternoon?” Felicity’s eyes widened, looking toward the clock on the stove where it read 12:33. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I never sleep in past 9.” “We were up pretty late.” Carly turned off the stove, placing a bowl of sausage’s, next to a plate of bacon and eggs. “Hungry. I made enough for everyone.” “Not really.” Felicity shook her head. “You should really eat something Felicity.” Andy stood up and gave her a light nudge toward the kitchen table, waiting till she sat down and sat a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her with a slice of toast. “Your too small, you need to take better care of yourself. If I didn’t know better I would think you had a eating disorder.” Felicity rolled her eyes. “I don’t’ have a eating disorder.” “Prove it by eating some lunch.” Andy said, grabbing up his cup of coffee. “This is breakfast food.” “Just eat will you.” He called over his shoulder as he left the kitchen. Felicity grumbled to herself, tearing off a small piece of the toast and popping it into her mouth. “He means well.” Carly said, taking a seat next to her, placing a fresh cup of coffee in front of Felicity. Felicity swallowed before responding “I know.” “Did you sleep well?” “I did. That couch is surprisingly comfy.” She took a small drink of the coffee Carly had sat in front of her. “Thank you.” “Your welcome. “It’s not star bucks or anything, but it’s good, right?” “It is. But that wasn’t what I meant.” Felicity looked to Carly in completely sincerity. “Thank you for last night, for just listening and being there. It was what I needed.” Carly smiled at her genuinely. “You don’t have to thank me for that. Anytime you just need a shoulder to cry on, a willing ear to listen. I’m here if you need me.” “I really appreciate it.” Felicity told her honestly. “It meant a lot to me just having someone be there for me.” “I’m glad.” Carly smiled. “But if you really want to thank me you’ll eat something. Andy wasn’t wrong. You’re too skinny and you need to take better care of yourself.” “Alright, alright.” Felicity said, taking a bigger bite of her toast making a show of actually eating her food. Carly grinned. “Now was that so hard.” “Extremely.” Felicity retorted but shared a smile with Carly. Feeling closer to Carly then she ever had to the other woman. Maybe she should take Carly up on her offer to talk more often. And she would do the same for Carly if she ever needed to do the same. She offered Carly another smile, digging into her food just as Andy returned to the kitchen joining them at the table, feeling slightly better than she had the night before. A/N: Please don't be mad at Roy or Carly too much for their comments about Oliver. They just really hate what he did. I might be taking a temporary break from this story. Because it's kind of stressing me out and when I'm stressed I don't feel like writing anything let alone post. Sorry.