#also without a doubt these boys would have defended me if someone crossed a line

[scrawlingwithstyle]

Now and then, I fondly recall my favorite dream from several years ago.

I was a young adult, and in my dream I was at a public place--something between the National Whitewater Center and an amusement park. I had on a swimsuit at the beginning, but for some reason I took it off.

Unlike other people, when I'm naked in my dreams, I'm actually more confident.

So I'm kind of nonchalantly walking around in my birthday suit, and no one says anything--until a group of young men (19-23 ish, or around my age at the time) start paying attention to me.

Instead of creepy catcalling, they hype me up, comparing me to a particular painter's works, though I can't remember the name now.

They follow me around, keeping a respectful distance, for the rest of my dream. At some point, I had to put my swimsuit back on, and the only complaint was about covering up such a work of art.

[pepsiboyy]

idk if you take fic requests! but maybe a fic based off of Greek God by Conan Gray. like Matt or Chris pretend they don’t like yn where they’re around their sport (whatever sport, you choose!) friends. they all have a really high ego and are cocky. but there’s a tension between M/C and yn bc they used to be friends until M/C got popular but yn didn’t so now they’re not friends cuz M/C let his popularity status get to him. but they sometimes speak on the down low (M/C doesn’t wanna be seen talking to yn) they’re families are family friends which is why they’re technically forced to still talk every once in a while. but eventually the tension gets too intense, and well, M/C can’t handle it anymore and it ends up turning into a childhood friends to enemies to lovers type story 🤭 ALSO, YN STANDS HER GROUND AND DOESNT LET M/C GET HER THAT EASILY, SHES NOT JUST GONNA FALL FOR HIM INSTANTLY CUZ HE FINALLY STARTS PAYING ATTENTION TO HER!! thanks!!

GREEK GOD.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: just read the request :p warnings: cursing, mentioned of alcohol, being drunk, use of y/n lol, angst (resolved sorta) a/n: THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST!!! i hope it's what you were looking for, i spent a lot of time trying to make this work :") thank you so much for the request!!

i stood at the edge of the ice rink, my hands clasping together with high hopes.

i came to cheer on matt and chris, with nick seated beside me as he scrolled through instagram and snacked on some chips that he brought.

nick was my best friend, without a doubt. i told him everything. matt was one of my comfort friends. someone i didn't talk to as often as nick, but enough to where i feel fully comfortable talking to him about whatever may happen. chris, on the other hand...

chris was chris.

it was hard to describe the dynamic the two of us shared.

chris and i actually used to be closer than me and nick, or anyone, honestly.

he would pick me up when i fell, give me some of his snacks and even a sip of his pepsi if i wanted. he would reassure me when i felt low, and even put me in my place if he knew i was out of line.

before we knew it, high school rolled around. freshman year was relatively normal, sophomore year too.

junior year he started making newer friends, but he also had a different lunch period from the rest of us. i'd only really see him when matt gave me rides home.

senior year rolled around, and chris was a changed person. ever since he made it to the varsity hockey team with his new friends, he changed. he claims it's because we "grew apart" but we didn't. he goes out of his way to make me look bad in front of his friends, or even act like he has no idea who i am. it kind of made me feel stupid.

matt being on varsity with him didn't help his case at all, either.

so, when i came to watch them play, nick would sit with me and i would cheer on them both, even if chris pretended to hate me.

so, here i am. standing at the edge of the rink with nick, who was now standing beside me as we watched the two we knew and loved. matt effortlessly weaving past a defender, sending the puck flying towards chris, who sent it into the goal and made it.

the sound of skates cutting through ice was sharp in my ears, and the bright arena lights cast a glow over everyone while each and every cheer echoed in the cold air.

i remember when we all used to skate together freshman year here, the arena empty and our arms all linked together because i couldn't skate for the life of me, on matter how bad i tried.

those days felt like a lifetime ago now.

you had all grown a lot since then.

apart, apparently.

"hey, y/n, what are you doin' here?" a boy from the team questioned, skating to the glass with a cocky grin. "came to see the champ?" he asked, referring to chris.

i rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, allowing my eyes to trail elsewhere. "just here to support my friends." i mumbled.

chris glanced over, his expression neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes - guilt, maybe, or recognition of the unspoken tension between them. before i could look away, he turned back to his friends, laughing at some joke i couldn't hear.

i sighed and took a seat beside nick again, letting out a soft hum as i did. the familiar sting of hurt and anger was beginning to get to me.

the memory of chris and i being inseparable, chris changing, chris making fun of me to his friends, all of it. it hurt. popularity inflated his ego, and i always refused to be an admirer in his little fan club.

after the game, i found myself lingering near the exit of the rink. i typically waited for the crowd to die and the traffic to slow down before leaving. it was too busy for me.

the locker room door swung open, and out poured the hockey team that was riding out the high of their win. chris was among them, laughing loudly and tossing his hockey stick over his shoulder. we met eyes for a moment, and his smile seemed to falter. until he leaned to a friend of his and nudged them, mumbling something to make them both laugh.

"hey, y/n!" chris called out. "didn't think you'd stick around here. still obsessed with me or what?"

i stared at chris with a deadpanned expression. "stop getting me to stroke your ego, christopher." i bit back, trying to keep my voice steady.

this shit was annoying, really.

chris's friends snickered, and he shrugged it off, turning away as if i were nothing more than an afterthought to him. "whatever. let's get out of here."

the group moved past me, their laughter seeming to echo in the hallway. i felt a lump form in my throat, but i refused to let anyone see me get upset over something to miniscule.

i knew this version of chris was a facade, but that didn't really make it hurt any less. the boy i once loved and cared for deeply was now buried under layers of arrogance and bravado, and i wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily.

the crowd began to die down, so i gathered myself and pushed out of the door, making my way towards my car.

as i walked towards the car, i saw chris again, this time with his brothers as they leaned against their minivan and talked about the game together.

for a moment, chris looked up, and our eyes met. there was a flicker of something in his gaze - regret, maybe, or a silent apology - but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

he mumbled something to his brothers before he kicked off and made his way towards me.

"need a ride home? matt can take you." his tone was casual, but strained.

i stared at chris for a moment in disbelief, before quickly shaking my head and sighing. "no thanks. i can manage."

chris opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it, looking away. the silence between us stretched, and it filled with all the things left unsaid.

and with that, i turned on my heel and began walking home.

saturday. the days where the sturniolo household invited me for dinner were so much fun, genuinely. they were an amazing family. and chris typically acted normal around her when she was invited over.

i pulled into the driveway of their home, smiling softly to myself as i turned the music down. i pulled down the mirror and fixed my hand, humming to myself before taking my keys.

i was wearing something pretty cozy, just a crewneck and some bleached jeans and converse. they were like my second family, no need to get fancy.

i knocked on the door, where matt answered and pulled me into a hug of greeting. "hi, y/n," he breathed and smiled softly before leading me further into their home, where i was met with nick, marylou, their mother, and jimmy, their father.

"where's chris?" i questioned, the words falling from my lips faster than i could stop them.

nick exchanged a look with matt before he shrugged. "not sure, he just said he was going to some hockey party for their win last night."

i scoffed and nodded, taking a seat in my usual spot between nick and marylou.

the empty chair across from me was honestly quite intimidating. more than it would have been if chris were there.

chris was always the one with crazy stories and conversation topics.

we sat in a comfortable silence, though, which i'm sure nick and matt enjoyed as they listen to chris every day of their lives.

"you're still goin' to their hockey games and cheerin' em on?"

marylou questioned, and i turned to her and smiled. "yeah, they're really great, actually." i smiled softly, and marylou nodded.

"i know chris has been on a bit of an ego train, i hope he's still been kind to you guys." jimmy mumbled softly.

i swallowed and rubbed the back of my head. "yeah, he's been great, actually." i lied.

nick and matt stared at me, but decided not to question it before continuing their meal.

but then my phone began to ring, and everyone's attention shifted to me.

"i'm so sorry," i quickly mumbled as i removed it from my pocket and immediately felt every bit of air in my lungs leave.

why is chris calling me?

i rose to my feet and held up a finger, chuckling nervously. "i'm gonna take this," i mumbled quickly.

i made my way down the hall and to the front room. "hello?" i questioned softly.

"y/n/n," chris slurred on the other end. "i- i'm at a party, and.." he trailed off before giggling to himself, "i might.. need a ride home," he mumbled.

i sighed, rubbing my temple in annoyance. "where are you?"

chris mumbled an address, hardly coherent. "can you... can you come get me? please?"

i sighed to myself. "why can't you get matt or nick or something?"

"they'll get pissed," he stated, a little clearer than the rest of his sentences. "i don't want them to worry about me." chris struggled to get the word worry out of his system, making me crack a slight smile.

"fine," i stated as i fixed myself, "stay put. i'll be there soon."

i hung up the phone and made my way back to the dining room, where everyone collectively turned to me.

"everything alright?" nick asked, and i quickly nodded.

"everything's good, i do have to go, though. i'm so sorry you guys. i'll make it up to you?" i smiled. "i just, um.. have to run."

they all exchanged looks before nodding and bidding me farewell, nick walking me out.

i sat in my car and typed the address into my phone, rubbing my forehead.

i didn't enjoy parties. they were loud, sweaty, gross and full of annoying ass kids. usually.

and as i pulled up, it was just that. a typical high school party scene - loud music, teenagers spilling out onto the lawn, and the faint smell of alcohol and weed in the air. i found chris on the footsteps, his head buried in his hands. i quickly made my way towards him after parking and kneeled down in front of him.

"come on, let's get you home." i said, helping him to his feet.

chris leaned on my heavily as we made our way to my car. i buckled him in and got into the driver's sear, the tension between us palpable in the confined space. as i drove, chris mumbled some incoherent words, his head lolling against the window.

"y/n," he suddenly said, his voice clearer but thick with emotion. "i'm sorry."

i glanced at him, eyebrows raised. "for what?"

"for everything," he continued, his eyes half-closed. "for being an ass. for ignoring you. for... for all of it."

i took a deep breath as i felt a mixture of sadness and anger bubbling within me. i gripped the steering wheel tighter, unsure of how to respond. "you're drunk, chris. you don't know what you're saying."

"no," chris insisted, reaching out and touching my arm. "i do, i've been a jerk. i miss you. i miss us."

i pulled into my own driveway, knowing chris wouldn't want to see his family like this. i would just take his phone and send them a text saying he was with a friend tonight or something.

i turned off the engine and took a deep breath. "let's get you inside."

chris stumbled out of the car, leaning on me for support the whole way to the door. i fished for my keys and unlocked the door, quickly guiding him to my living room couch.

as i laid a blanket over him, he grabbed my hand as his eyes locked with mine.

"i still care about you, y/n. i always have."

my heart pounded, but i forced a laugh, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment. "sleep it off, chris. we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

i brushed a few loose strands from his forehead and stood up, turning off the light and going to my room. my mind raced with conflicting emotions.

part of me wanted to believe his drunken confession, but another part of me was still so angry. still hurt by the way he had treated me. as i laid in bed and stared at my ceiling, i couldn't shake the feeling that things between us were far from over. and that this was just the beginning of a much more complicated story.

the sizzling of the bacon on the oven was comforting, in a way. i had an airpod in, playing some softer, but upbeat music to get me up and going for the long, long day ahead.

i turned my head upon hearing some shuffling in the kitchen, meeting eyes with chris. "morning," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"morning," i replied, placing a plate of food with bacon, eggs and sausage onto the counter in front of him. "eat up. you'll feel better."

he sat down and started eating, occasionally glancing at me as i cleaned up the kitchen. after a few minutes of awkward silence, he looked at me. "look, about last night.."

i crossed my arms and leaned against the counter. "what about it?"

chris looked down at his plate, poking at his eggs. "i meant what i said, you know. but i was drunk, and.. and maybe it didn't come out right-"

"maybe?" i questioned, my voice sharp. "you've been treating me like i don't exist for months, chris. one drunken apology doesn't fix that."

he winced at my words, but nodded. "i know, i've been an idiot. i got caught up in... everything. the team, the popularity. but that's no excuse."

"no, it's not." i stated, my anger beginning to bubble to the surface. "you think you can just waltz back into my life with a half-assed apology and everything will be fine? it doesn't work that way." i spat.

chris stood up, stepping closer. "i'm not asking for everything to be fine overnight. i'm asking for a chance to make things right."

i shook my hear, my eyes flashing with frustration. "do you even realize how much you hurt me? how it felt to be ignored, to be treated like i was nothing?"

"i do now," he said quietly. "and i'm sorry. truly. i want to make it up to you, if you'd let me."

i looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of insincerity. he seemed genuine, his usual bravado stripped away, leaving only the boy she used to know.

"i don't know if i can trust you," i admitted, my voice softer now.

chris reached out and took my hand in his. "i get that. and i will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back."

he pulled me into a tight hug, where i gently hugged his waist and took in his scent.

i missed this.

"just one date. give me a chance?" chris mumbled, the smile audible in his tone.

i hesitated, my mind racing. part of me wanted to say no, to protect myself from his bullshit. but another part of me remembered all of the good times.

"one date," i finally stated, my voice firm. "but this doesn't mean i'm just forgiving you, chris. you have a lot to prove."

he nodded quickly, his lips curving into a smile. "i promise i won't let you down."

i pulled away from his embrace and smiled at him before turning to the sink and doing the dishes. "you better now."

as i did the dishes, i felt a glimmer of hope mixed with lingering doubt. chris had a long way to go to earn the trust i had for him back, but for the first time in months, she felt like maybe, just maybe, things could change.

[kaidenya]

Getting Caught ✧ MHA

Description: Headcanons for getting caught in a intimate moment with Hitoshi Shinso, Tenya Iida, Mirio Togata, & Tomura Shigaraki

WARNING: NSFW, suggestive content NOTE: This is a repost of an old SHITPOST headcanon I had on my previous account so if this looks familiar I hope you enjoy it the second time around!

“Nobody will know...”

Shinso

Shinso would go to his grave claiming that you were to blame for this situation

But in all honesty, he had been allowing things to build for far too long

You two weren’t necessarily a secret, but most people just assumed you were bEsT fRiEnDs 🥴

It was an honest misunderstanding

You had decided to keep physical contact to a minimum after an unfortunate attempt at holding his hand left you believing he didn’t enjoy any forms of PDA.

Shinso had just assumed the same about you.

However, as the two of you grew more serious, you found it more difficult to keep your hands to yourself

It just so happened your boyfriend had been working extremely hard in the hero course and it s h o w e d

You had found yourself admiring his changing physique and in turn, found you weren’t the only one admiring your boyfriend.

You weren’t necessarily jealous— you trusted him more than anything, but he tended to be socially constipated

And nobody seemed to know about you. Thus giving the other interested parties an unintentional greenlight to flirt with him. And there was one girl that had stood out among the sea of suitors.

Each time you saw the second-year girl perch next to Shinso it made your skin crawl, but no lines had been crossed.

Until they were.

Your knuckles were gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it ached when you made your way to where your boyfriend was perched outside

The second-year didn’t even acknowledge you as she continued her flirtatious ways and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes as you settle into the place next to him.

He had flashes you a lazy smile before focusing back on his phone screen.

Then her hand landed on his upper thigh

Let me tell you: sleepy boy was shocked when she touched him, but he was EVEN MORE SHOCKED when you took her by the wrist and tossed her hand to the side

You waste no time threading your fingers with his, rising to your feet and all but hauling him from his seat

His amusement only grew as he realized just how jealous you had gotten, a smirk forming over his lips as he set to teasing you

‘What’s the matter, kitty? You don’t like anyone touching daddy?’

NO, YOU DO NOT

You have no idea how you ended up on your knees in a supply closet??

Shinso is feeling very sure of himself above you, using the hand that was gripping the back of your neck as leverage to hold you down on his length

k i n g of dirty talk 🤭

Absolutely cannot help himself when it comes to telling you how pretty you look choking on his cock

Honestly doesn’t last long, but what do you expect? Seeing your jealous and possessive response to the girl he had given little to no acknowledgment had lit a fire in his chest

He was desperate to get his hands on you, to remind you that he was just as much yours as you were his.

And when he does— oh MAN he makes you forget all about the second-year girl

He has one of your legs draped over his shoulder as he goes down on you, licking and sucking at you in a way that had you trembling

You accidentally knock over a pile of brooms and mops, neither of you paying them any mind as your head lulled in bliss

If only you had remembered to flick the lock on the door…

Kirishima really thought someone was banging on the door for help. It wouldn’t have been manly— or heroic not to make sure someone wasn’t in trouble

Besides, why else would someone be making so much noise in a supply closet if they weren’t stuck??

So when the door swung open and he locked eyes with you, still panting and moaning as an all too familiar head of purple hair buried further into your heat—

He let out the loudest shout he could muster. Apologies poured from his mouth as he fumbled to shut the door

However, your boyfriend made no move to let you go. Instead, he hummed against your skin, only leaning back to nip at your inner thigh before speaking in a heavy voice

‘Better make this fast, kitty.’

Iida

So you’ve tried to keep your relationship on the down-low bc Iida doesn’t want anyone to think he’s distracted

We all know he just doesn’t wanna be called out for his obvious favoritism

Before you got together you were constantly pushing him, breaking minuscule rules in favor of gaining his attention. Nothing too immoral, but enough to get under his skin.

Like slipping into class just seconds after the bell had rung, nearly avoiding Aizawa’s attention, but never making it past Iida.

Or when a class had gotten a bit too stressful, the room filling with hot air as tensions rose and you had to pop open a few buttons of your uniform top

Then there was your favorite offense; desk sitting. If there was one sure way to get a reaction from your stickler of a boyfriend it was to place yourself on top of a desk.

Which is what you found yourself doing at the end of an unfavorable week. The two of you hadn’t gotten a moment together outside of your studies and you were growing needy.

So with a few moments of free time before class began, you decided to chat with Tsu and Uraraka, settling atop the desk between them when you had grown tired of standing

The desk belonging to none other than Tenya

Your ankles were crossed as you leaned forward to speak with Tsuyu and he was beyond s h o o k

Immediate hand chopping.

He’s towering over you, ranting about how your behavior was improper while keeping his hands clenched in an attempt to keep from running his fingertips along your thighs.

When was the last time you were this close to him? It had to have been longer than he realized for him to have such a strong reaction— are you biting your lip??

Any response between you died off as Aizawa addressed the class and you were sent back to your seat, leaving Iida far more frazzled than you realized

The moment class ends he has you tucked under an empty stairwell to continue his lecture

Only he doesn’t get very far

Tenya Iida has an authority kink. I take no criticism.

When you look up at him from under your lashes, muttering the words ‘yes sir’ as he chastised you, his resolve was shattered

Has you pressed against the wall immediately, fisting your blazer as he dips to press his forehead to yours

‘Why must you push me?’

Doesn’t even let you answer before his mouth is covering yours, hips arching to grind his obvious arousal against you

Knowing he had been just as affected by your as you had him was enough to spur a moan past your lips and he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth

Although he was MORTIFIED at the impropriety of it all, he couldn’t resist the sweet noises you made as he expertly worked against you

His hand eventually slides between you, pushing past the waistband of your bottoms and grinding his palm against you teasingly

‘Now, who do you belong to, darling?’

You you youyouyou—

Your hand was rubbing along Iida’s hard cock, his length straining against his pants to the point you’re almost worried they’ll rip

Somehow the two of you had been so lost in one another that you hadn’t heard the door open at the top of the stairwell

Denki and Mineta honestly weren’t creeping this time— they just wanted a snack from the vending machine adjacent to you!

Got a whole ass meal instead 👁👄👁

A moan tore from your throat, quickly being smothered by Tenya’s parted lips as you came on his fingers

You had barely made out the echoing sound of objects clattering to the ground through the ringing in your ears

But your boyfriend had heard

His lips separated from you in an instant, shocked gaze shifting into something closer to anger as he recognized your classmates

Denki began stammering out an apology, looking close to short-circuiting as his attention flickered between you

Mineta had let his gaze linger on you for too long. His eyes taking in the way your exposed chest— Tenya must have pulled the buttons loose

You cringe away from his gaze, post-orgasm haze™ spurring you to tuck yourself closer to Tenya to avoid their stares rather than snap at them

It was your obvious discomfort that had kicked Iida into gear, twisting to thread your button your blouse together before rounding on the others

If embarrassment wasn’t enough, the thought of them having seen you in such a vulnerable position had him seething as he began his lecture

Attempts hand chopping them into submission, but they kept disregarding his words in favor of catching another glimpse of you in a fucked out state

All fondness for his classmates had vanished as he stepped into their line of sight, shielding you from their gazes. His eyes almost daring them to continue

Whatever words lingering on their tongues died off, heads bowing in shame as they agreed to keep the entire situation to themselves

After all, the potential wrath of Tenya Iida was not something to be taken lightly.

Mirio

Mirio’s love language is touch, without a doubt, so it’s honestly surprising when he’s NOT trying to get handsy with you

He’s always defended his obvious displays of affection by claiming he had so little free time— he’d be a fool to waste the opportunity to touch you!

Mirio jumped at the opportunity to feel you against him. Whether it was a heavy kiss to your lips after walking you to class, a hand slipping under your shirt to caress your back, or his fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh.

However, as much as he was attentive, he was also forgetful.

It was because of that forgetfulness that you found yourself alone in your dorm. Countless boxes of takeout were lined up on your desk and a pre-planned movie was ready to play on your small tv.

After a few hours and countless delivered messages, you succumbed to disappointment.

The following day Mirio can’t seem to figure out why you’re avoiding him, but he refuses to give up without a fight.

Definitely thinks it’s a game of some sort and takes it upon himself to break your silent streak

It wasn’t easy being upset with Mirio. He had an uncanny ability to brighten any room he stepped into and being irrevocably in love with him only strengthened his effect

He’s always hard for you and loves letting you know just how you affect him— so why not place a hand on your hand, pressing firmly against your back when he slips past?

You always look so stunning— why not feed you compliments at every given moment?

How could he not look at you with the most iNTENSE GAZE undressing you with his eyes in front of everyone?

It’s when he realizes that you aren’t reacting to his teasing and flirtatious behaviorist that he caves.

He finds you between classes, stirring you away from the crowd, despite your wordless protests. It isn’t until you’re tucked away in an abandoned hall that he finally asks what was wrong

You had fully intended on dragging it out, allowing anger to push you on. But he spoke to you in the softest voice, looked at you with eyes filled with so much devotion that it was nearly overwhelming

He is shocked when you shove him away— were you tearing up??

Actually gets super defensive because he doesn’t realize HES the one that made you upset

Once you finally cave and remind him about the date he had missed it hits him like a freight train.

The two of you so rarely got time together and he had stood you up.

‘I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve been so busy lately— I didn’t realize I was neglecting you.’

Does not waste time making it up to you. He cups your face in his hands as he starts placing soft kisses on your face, cooing softly as tears roll down your cheeks

Did somebody say praise kink?

How can you stay mad at him when he’s telling you how sorry he is and that he loves you and you’re the only one his dick will get hard for??

It isn’t long before he’s pinned you between him and the wall, hitching your legs around his waist while coaxing you into a heavy kiss

His hips flex to grind against you, his hot length slotting between your thighs as he digs his fingertips into the curve of your ass

Mirio does not care that somebody could see— his quirk leaves him naked all the time and he’s shameless 🥵

But again he’s so forgetful—

And he was meant to go straight to class 1A to talk with them alongside the other members of The Big Three

So when he didn’t show up Aizawa had sent Tamaki and Midoriya in search of their future number one hero

How were you supposed to know they would turn the corner just as you arched from the wall?

Mirio had no idea anyone was there as he used the hand that was wrapped around your throat as leverage to grind you over the edge—

bOY were you embarrassed when you heard the two boys audibly g a s p

Midoriya’s embarrassment nearly gave Tamaki a run for his money. You were quick to turn away, immediately hiding your face in his chest as he greeted the duo in an overly cheerful voice

Absolutely teases the three of you over the incident FOREVER!!

Shigaraki

Shigaraki was obsessed with you.

There was no way around how infatuated he had become and it only seemed to grow alongside your relationship

He was touch starved. The moment you began giving him physical affection and attention it was game over

He had no shame, especially when it came to his desire for you, which is how you often found yourself perched on his lap no matter the company.

That being said, the leader of the League of Villains became intolerable when the two of you were separated for long.

And a recent spiral of events has prevented you from returning to the hideout, thus leaving the others to deal with him

You weren’t expected to return until the following week. Aside from texting Shigaraki endlessly (didn’t he have anything better to do?) and assuring Twice and Toga that you’d be returning as soon as possible, you hadn’t had much contact with the League

Shigaraki was wound up tight, lashing out at the others far more than usual. That was how he ended up sitting at the bar, Father concealing his annoyance as Kurogiri took over the meeting.

And suddenly you were walking in, muttering a quick apology before taking the only available seat beside Toga

Shigaraki could not keep his eyes off of you, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. It was the most present he had been since you left.

Of course, that meant Dabi has also noticed and never missing an opportunity to mess with their ruthless leader he shifted closer from his place behind you, muttering small talk into your ear

There is no doubt in my mind that Shigaraki was staring at you both like 😠 behind Father

Luckily the meeting had been wrapping up upon your arrival and the group was dismissed, many leaving to handle their own business.

However, the moment you had leaped to your feet Tomura had vanished from the room

With a sigh you moved over to the bar, sliding into the seat that had once been occupied by your man and Kurogiri placed a drink before you

By the time you had downed the last bit the bar had gotten eerily quiet, though when you shifted to speak to the Misty Man he was already looking over your shoulder. With a single nod, he had left the room.

The moment he was gone leather artist gloves shoved under your top, your heart racing at the all too familiar feeling as a palm settled between your shoulders

‘I’ve missed you, pet.’

There was a harsh tone to his voice, but it was contradicted by the trail of open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck and shoulder

Your entire body arched against him, head craning back to catch a glimpse of him, smiling widely as you met his gaze and returned the sentiment

A scoff slid past his lips, though you could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as his hand reached around to wrap around your throat

Despite the gloves, he kept a pinky in the air

His mouth covers yours in a sloppy kiss as his hips jolt sharply against you, knocking you against the countertop

Absolutely cannot control himself as he ruts against you, wasting little to no time in pushing your bottoms down past your thighs

Heat pooled in your stomach as his free hand reached between you to pull himself from his jeans

His dick slid between your thighs, a throaty whine sliding past your lips and despite the slick from your arousal the thick head stretched you perfectly

You had been completely lost in him, moaning and whining freely as he continued to rut against you.

There was a click throughout the room, similar to the door handle being twisted and your attention was adverted to the source

However, Shigaraki was faster.

He grabbed the back of your head and using his hold as leverage to press your face flat against the bar-top while his other hand worked against your sensitive center. A loud moan that was undoubtedly his name tumbled past your lips

‘There’s my little slut— louder, make sure they know who makes you feel this good.’

Unbeknownst to you, the person he wanted to be sure knew you were his had entered the room, Tomura meeting his gaze with a smirk as you began chanting his name like a prayer

A harsh thrust of his hips sent you over the edge as you came on his cock, filthy praises slipping past his lips as his hot release rolled down your thighs

He placed another sloppy kiss on the back of your neck before parting from you.

The moment you lift your head and begin adjusting yourself you lock eyes with Dabi

Embarrassed didn’t even begin to explain how you felt as Tomura let out a loud laugh, reaching down to pull your bottoms up after he had tucked himself away

‘Go wait on my bed while I speak with Dabi and I may let you come on my tongue.’

You wasted no time hurrying away from the two, heart pounding from both excitement and humiliation as you rushed to do as you were told

[wackywritings]

Rafe Cameron - hurt

"Rafe?" Her question was uncertain, quivering lips doing nothing to hide her anxiety-ridden thoughts. She had nothing to be afraid of if it was the boy she thought it was. But if it wasn't, someone was currently breaking into her bedroom through her window, and she'd have no way to defend herself.

"Yeah." His voice threaded through the darkness of her room. She'd let out a relieved breath at the familiarity of it, but she had no reason to be relieved. If anything, the very sound of his voice, nothing but a strained whisper, should make her worry. The clicking noise of her bedroom window shutting making her so very aware of his presence in her room. Once again.

His footsteps surfaced, then, and it only took a couple before he was at her side. She could barely make out his form, the outline of muscular thighs replaced by broad shoulders as he crouched down next to her bed. For a second she thought she saw his hand reach out to her, and thoughts of him tenderly stroking her face with his large hands, perhaps tracing a calloused finger over her lips, which she would part to huff out a shaky breath she'd be holding way too long, surfaced in her mind.

Instead he reached for her bedside lamp. The light made her eyes squeeze shut for a second, and she knew he must be surpressing a laugh at how ridiculously pathetic she looked as she did. Her messy hair sprawled out across her pillow and the shirt he'd left here last time engulfing her body as it functioned as her pyjama top no doubt adding to that image.

For a moment she thought her worry over him had been for nothing. That he was finally here because he wanted to be, and not because he had to. But when her eyes adjusted to the light she realised she'd been wrong to think that way, and she quickly sat upright.

"Jesus, Rafe." Her eyes raked over his face, examining the bruise forming underneath his eye that blossomed far out to the side of his face, the dried blood underneath his nose that had dripped onto his lips. It must leave a metallic taste on his mouth that she wouldn't mind taking away at all. She'd stare at the droplets a little while longer if she wasn't so aware of his gaze being directly on her. So she looked into his eyes, concern written all over her face.

"It's nothing, Y/N."

"What even-"

His large hand coming up into the air as he angled his head signalled for her to not ask that question. What even happened? It was a simple question, one that he no doubt knew the answer to. But he didn't allow her to know it too. The second to last time he'd come to her, she'd learned later that he'd fought with JJ. He looked worse than Rafe did, admittedly because she'd iced his cheek to prevent any swelling. But she couldn't help but wonder if he had felt worse about it. Hurting her friends.

"Am I gonna have to lie to my friends again?" She questioned then.

"Y/N." It was pleading, tired, desperate, annoyed. Her question had crossed a line. If he talked to her more, perhaps told her more about himself so she could piece together what he was all about, she'd know he wasn't mad at her question. Simply afraid that whatever judgement she had towards him would stop her from taking care of him. From caring about him.

So he answered. "No." It was firm, and his voice was hoarse. But it was honest. "This was Topper." A dry laugh emanated from his lips, his gaze at her so serious it would be unbearable had they been in any other predicament then they were now. She was confused, sure, but she'd asked enough questions for the day, so she kept her mouth shut as she nodded her head towards her ensuite.

It was routine now. He'd lean against the sink, entrapping her between his legs as she worked on the cuts and bruises. Hisses leaving his lips involuntarily anytime she applied a little too much pressure. Softer touches would follow, as would her muttered 'sorry' and shushes as she took care of him. She'd try time and time again to find any sign of pain in his eyes, but he always had them closed. It wasn't pain, though. No. It was pure bliss at her tender care, at finally having someone there for him. It was also because he knew her well enough that with one look into his eyes, she would unravel him like a ball of yarn; all his worries and twisted thoughts and pain would be displayed to her. Most importantly, she'd see the love he held for her. And he was sure he wouldn't find the same in her eyes.

"All done." She whispered after a while, taking a step back from him. His sign to open his eyes again. "You gonna be okay?"

He nodded, swallowed thickly before smiling a wry smile. She was talking about more than just his injuries- and he knew that. But he couldn't bring himself to open up to her. Not yet, anyway.

"At least tell me Topper looked worse." She tried to lighten the mood. Sensing his discomfort, wanting to push further but dancing around it nonetheless.

"Nah. He kicked my ass." He chuckled. Swiped a hand across his lips to hide his smile, a habit that she'd picked up on way back when he came here the first time.

"Get him next time, then."

"Are you condoning violence now, Y/N?" He tsked at her.

"I would never do such thing." But the smile on her face betrayed the fact that she was, even though she was merely teasing him.

"Hm. Sure. Not as innocent as you look, are ya?" He pushed himself off the sink, taking a step closer to her.

"You're not as good of a fighter as you'd think, either." She crossed her arms across her chest.

He had to look away, then. It gave her the opportunity to momentarily stare at his lips again, only to realise that he was biting them at her remark. She had to look away a lot quicker than she'd wanted, sucking in a breath as she did. He would no doubt be surprised at the blush that adorned her cheeks as he looked back at her.

"You're really not afraid of me, are you?" It was an earnest question stemming from her challenging remark, and as he looked at her flushed cheeks, her doe-like eyes staring up at his figure, he realised he didn't have to ask it in the first place.

The shaking of her head only confirmed his thought.

He didn't know why he responded the way he did. He could've taken another step closer, engulfed her figure in a tight hug, kissed the top of her head. Thanked her for what she did for him. Really thanked her. But instead he felt bitterness. Tasted it, too, combined with the metallic taste of blood that suddenly resurfaced. His brows furrowed, and he just knew she noticed the tears that formed in his eyes but never once spilled. The anger in his eyes made her drop her arms to her side. His whole body felt stiff all of a sudden, his shoulders tensing as he balled his fists. Her expression changed as he did, her lips tightly shut together at his abrupt change in attitude. He scoffed, took an uncertain step backwards before turning his back to her. He had all intention of leaving without another word. But he doubted himself. Like he did all the fucking time. His hands were brought up to his hair, fingers raking through his locks before tugging on them in frustration.

He only turned his head halfway as he couldn't resist the urge to look at her. His jawline sharp as his jaw clamped shut, the dim bathroom light overhead made the contour all the more prominent, as it did to the bruise contrasting his pale skin. He knew with the way he was staring at her, he looked intimidating. He'd seen plenty of people sink into their own when they'd see him like this. The thought made his eyes roll back. She had dropped her shoulders, her eyes wide as she kept her gaze on him. Not in fear, but in disappointment. She, too, had hoped their little teasing had lasted longer. God, why was he like this.

"You should be." The bitterness seeped through, bordering on the line between a sneer and a threat.

And he left her there. Climbed out the window just as he'd come in. Sure, he'd come back as soon as he got beat up again. They'd never even mention this night. But it would play on his mind like a record player that had gotten stuck.

Truth is, he was scared. Not because he thought she was going to hurt him like everyone else did.

But because he knew she wouldn't.

[urfictional]

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 – 𝐤𝐚𝐳 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

summary: there's a new face in ketterdam and kaz will be forced to strike a deal with the devil in order to get what he desires

warnings: blood, blood, and again blood, mentions of torturing, did I mention blood? my bad writing

A/N: I'd like to say that this is my first time writing a fic but then I would be kind of lying because a while ago I started to write a Kaz Brekker fanfiction on Wattpad. BUT. this is my first time writing a short fic, so we'll see how it goes.

also, English is not my first language so bear with the mistakes (I'm sure that there are some)

It’s hard to earn a name for yourself in the Barrel. You essentially start from nothing and then slowly brick by brick you start to grow your empire. You spill sweat and blood to achieve the goal and from then it only takes so little to remain at the top. It’s simple. One just needs to show the power that they hold. And Y/N has power.

Kaz Brekker was wondering. Standing in a dark room with fancy furniture, his Crows, Inej and Jesper, behind him. He was wondering from where she came from. The girl, approximately his age. Just a few months ago, the Barrel practically swarmed with rumors about a girl that Ketterdam hadn’t seen yet. No one knows from where she came from, or who she is. If Kaz has to think, he even doesn’t know her name.

She has many names but none of them is her real one. At least Kaz thinks that the girl that is sitting in front of him couldn’t possibly be called the Executioner. On the other hand, who knows this is the Barrel. A perfect place for weird people.

“You surprise me Kaz Brekker.” Even her voice sounded mysterious. It was confident, powerful and Kaz caught himself thinking that he could listen to her voice till death finally takes him. “You came to my house, walk through my corridors and now your dirty boots are staining my Persian rug and the only thing that you tell me is that you want to strike a deal that would make us acquaintances.”

Kaz didn’t utter a word. He watched the girl and the girl watched him. Her feet were resting on her desk and she comfortably leaned into the chair. She smirked.

While the Y/H/C haired girl was staring at Kaz, Jesper let his eyes closely inspect the girl. In a weird way, she reminded him of Kaz. Perfectly tailored clothes, black dress shirt, and grey west. Dress pants and heeled boots on her feet that laid crossed at her ankles on the desk’s surface. Her Y/H/C hair made into a tight knot at the back of her head. The only thing missing was leather gloves and cane.

“People who hold power in the Barrel should have acquaintances who do the same.” Kaz would be lying if he said that he wasn’t nervous about this meeting. He has heard stories about this girl, stories that possibly are nasty rumors, yet you never know. This is the Barrel after all.

She let out an amused laugh.

“And you count yourself as one?” She raised her eyebrows, an amused smile present on her face. “An acquaintance who holds power in the Barrel?” Y/N waited for Kaz to say something, to defend his honor yet he stayed quiet. She smirked while standing up. “Congratulations, you just passed the first test.”

Y/N needed to know if Kaz Brekker really is the Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. She won’t let the boy know all her secrets and ways how she works if he isn’t half of what Ketterdam claims him to be.

“Though I have to ask.” She stopped millimeters away from him. Y/N could feel the ragged breath of his that made her furrow her eyebrows and tilt her head a little. She looked into his eyes and stepped one step away from him. “If you claim that people who hold power in the Barrel need to, say, familiarize with others. What about Pekka Rollins? Hmm?” She watched how Kaz visibly stiffened upon that name. She smirked. Y/N got what she wanted. “I hope you will pass the next test, for I would be glad to make you an acquaintance.” With that Y/N walked past the trio towards the door. “Follow me.”

From outside, the building seemed to look like any other building on this street. Yet when the group made the turns for what seemed like a thousand times, they realized that the exterior is just an illusion. The Crows followed the girl down the steps and judging by the fact that there were no windows, and the air was a tad humid, they were in a basement.

They walked down a corridor. Kaz noted that there were doors every few meters on the left side. It looked awfully like a prison down here. Y/N walked past one door but then stopped causing the group to halt. She walked back towards the doors she just passed and opened the latch in the door. A small window with bars allowed to see inside the room yet the group couldn’t see anything from the position where they were standing.

They could hear a chain rattling and groaning which forced Kaz to think that there was someone in there.

“Well, have you changed your mind?” Her tone was demanding. Kaz observed her side profile. Sharp eyes and clenched jaw, he wondered if this is how he looked when he demanded something and didn’t accept no for an answer. The group heard more chain rattling and louder groan that sounded awfully like no with a couple of colorful words that were no doubt directed towards the girl. Y/N smirked. “As you wish.”

She went to close the latch when she glanced at the group on her left. Then without closing it moved forward along the corridor. Y/N purposely left the window open, she wanted Kaz to see with what kind of devil he is making the deal.

While walking past the doors Kaz glanced inside and visibly gulped. A man in his late thirties was hanging by his hands from the ceiling, his feet barely touching the ground. He was bleeding from, well, everywhere, and by the looks of it, he has been here for a long time. He was barely alive, and it seemed hasn’t eaten for weeks. Kaz wondered if behind all those doors were hanging men or even women.

“Do they even get food or water?” Inej was troubled by the scene that she saw behind the doors and couldn’t help but to be a tad concerned.

Y/N glanced behind her before turning to face the front again.

“When I remember, they do.” She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. They turned a corner and continued to walk along another hallway. The girl turned to throw a smirk towards the Suli girl. “I am a tad forgetful; you know. Can’t always remember all those poor souls that need feeding.”

So, then there were more people down here. Kaz suddenly wondered how many of them were still alive and how many were just hanging dead.

The group reached the end of the corridor. They were met with a man who was undoubtedly guarding the doors. With one nod from the girl in front of them, the guard opened the doors and let them inside.

This room was bigger than the previous cell that they saw. The walls were lined with cabinets that contained things, starting from various kinds of weapons to bottles of different sizes and colorful liquids.

“How’s our guest feeling today?” The Crows turned to where Y/N was standing in front of a man who, much like the previous prisoner, was hanged by his hands from the ceiling. The only difference was that there were also chains on his feet and he was hovering above the ground. Kaz observed the room and noticed three men standing on the sides. More guards. “Did the acid did its work?”

The Y/H/C-haired girl walked towards the table on her left. She was slowly unrolling the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows. After she was done Y/N picked up a bottle inspecting it.

“The man at the market said that it's pretty effective.” Only now Kaz noticed the burn marks on the prisoner’s body. One of the guards stepped forward.

“He didn’t utter a word.”

Y/N tsked while shaking her head in disappointment. She then turned to the hanging man.

“This is not how we work, darling, you know that.” The mock concern in the girl’s voice caused Kaz to shiver slightly. “Such a pretty face ruined for nothing. I can give you one more chance.”

The prisoner raised his head and looked at the girl in front of him. Y/N could easily live without the information that this man could give her but then it wouldn’t be interesting anymore. Any kind of information even the smallest one about the people of Ketterdam could turn out to be useful. You just need to find the right way, the right place and time.

“I am bound by an oath, I won’t tell you anything. Even if I’ll have-”

“-have to die, yeah, yeah don’t I know it.” Y/n interrupted the man by rolling her eyes. “You’re pathetic.”

The Crows braced themselves after what came next. The hanging man mustered all the strength that was in him and spit the blood that was in his mouth right into her face. The guards launched forwards, but Y/N raised her hand halting them in their steps.

Kaz watched how the girl was trying to calm her breathing the muscles of her back stiffened. He admired the control that this girl possessed. Not many people that Kaz knew would have such a perfect grip of themselves. Hell, even Kaz himself sometimes dropped the controlled behavior behind and acted a little reckless.

Y/N slowly turned around and the group of three could see the specks of blood on her face mixed with spit.

“Alright, if this is how you want to play. Let’s play.” She pulled out a cloth from her vest pocket and walked to her left where a small mirror was hanged on the wall.

When she was done cleaning her face, she walked back to stand in front of the prisoner. One of the guards walked beside her and handed something that reminded Kaz of a sheathed sword. Y/n took the handle and pulled out a long shiny sword. It was very long, it even was longer than Jesper’s arm. It looked heavy but she held it like it was light as a feather.

“I have always admired the old weapons.” She turned to face the Crows. “All those revolvers, pistols, and bombs, they are boring.” The girl extended her arm and pointed her sword at Kaz while smirking. “There is something about swords and weapons that have sharp and pointy things that excite me.” She glanced at the Suli girl on Kaz’s right. “Wouldn’t you agree with me?”

Inej couldn’t get anything past her lips, so she opted with just a nod.

Y/N lowered the sword and Kaz dared to breathe again. He didn’t even notice that he was holding his breath.

“There is nothing more exciting than feeling the sword digging in the flesh. Feeling the muscles breaking when you turn the sword-” She suddenly looked up at the group and offered a half-embarrassed smile. “Sorry.”

Then the smile disappeared, and she turned to walk closer to the hanged man.

“Let’s play a game. Heads or tails, Kaz Brekker?” Kaz looked up startled and watched how the girl turned to face him, any sign of the embarrassed smile long gone. Two steely eyes were staring into his soul waiting for his answer. “Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

Kaz knew that it was something to do with the way how the girl is going to kill the man. There was no point in trying to get away from that. The man is going to die anyway. With or without Kaz’s answer.

“Tails.” She smirked while turning to the hanged man. “This is your lucky day. You’ll be able to see me perfectly in the last seconds of your life.” Then she turned to face the Crows once more. “I have many names, yet only one of them is true. I am an Executioner.”

Kaz watched how she turned her head and raised her sword. With one swing sideways, the sword cut through the hanged man detaching the top half from the bottom separating him just above the waist. Kaz could hear Jesper cursing from his left and Inej taking in a sharp breath from his right. But Kaz did not let his eyes wander from the girl whose arm was still extended with the sword. The blood dripping from the weapon and the top half of the dead man.

“This part is my favorite.” Y/N lowered the sword and grasped the hilt in both hands, she supported the tip of the sword against the ground like a cane. Now the only thing missing is leather gloves. Jesper thought while watching the girl who yet again looked exactly like Kaz. “His brain hasn’t fully comprehended the pain and the fact that half of him is missing. Last seconds before he dies, he sees my face and wishes he had done otherwise.” Kaz couldn’t see her face, but he imagined a contented smile resting on her face. “The silent art. What could be more beautiful than this?”

Y/N turned around to face the Crows. One of the guards walked closer with the empty sheath. She cleaned the sword before taking the sheath and putting the sword in it. With the sheathed weapon in one hand, Y/N walked closer to the group of three. She stopped before Kaz and squinted her eyes while inspecting him. Satisfied with whatever she saw, the girl smirked.

“Congratulations. You managed to keep everything inside. So did your friends.” She looked from Inej to Jesper then back at Kaz with a cheeky smile. “Some people have the need to display their previous meals. I’m not a fan of those people.” She then pointed at the guards behind her. “Nor are they. Because, well, they are the ones that are cleaning everything.”

Kaz forced himself to not look at the hanging body behind the girl, not a second longer, otherwise, he too will have the need to display the meal he had earlier this day. He was surprised how Jesper managed to hold himself together. Kaz took a mental note to ask him that after they will be done here.

Soon they left the basement and followed the girl back upstairs. They arrived in the room they previously were in. Y/N walked to the cabinet on the left and placed the sheathed sword on a stand. Then she walked to the front of the desk and her hands crossed on her chest leaned against it.

“Well? You still want to make the deal?”

Kaz knew that there is a possibility that he will regret the decision but there was one thing that forced him to not think about this possibility. There was a reason she mentioned Pekka Rollins. And that reason was simple, she wanted him gone just as much as he. If that wouldn’t be the case, she wouldn’t have bothered with all this play. Therefore, Kaz firmly nodded his head forcing a smirk to appear on the girl’s face.

She stood straight and extended her hand, waiting for Kaz to shake it.

For a moment he hesitated, but then slowly extended his hand and felt her fingers wrap around his leather-clad hand.

And so, the devil made deal with the devil.

A/N: aight let me know what you think. ;))

[peaches-writes]

don’t you worry, baby

member: chan 

wc: 1.4k

genre: fluff, summer au, childhood friends to lovers au, beach day au

warning: explicit language

note: third installment to the skz cheese agenda (skcheese? lmao) + eun is the name of the mc from doll in this fic!

The occasional tourist would give you strange looks as they pass by, wondering why you and Chan would plant your tie dye mat and beach umbrella set so close to the waves crawling back and forth. The two of you have learned to ignore them over the summer years, however, too busy giggling over the way the water would tickle your bare feet on the hot sand and occasionally bring in the most random of objects. 

Especially now that an entire academic year of the two of you separated in different colleges has passed by, this being the first summer that the two of you could spend together leisurely without the worry of school requirements or part-time jobs in the city. 

As per your long-standing childhood beach tradition, the two of you compete in collecting 8 of the same things that you find under the sands or the waves bring in—this time with a carefree conversation on just about anything and everything that you’ve missed in each other’s life the past 10 months. It’s a tight battle this sunny Friday afternoon, with you guarding 6 olive shells in the space under your folded legs while Chan has a nice line of 5 cerith shells he’s worked hard in digging while ranting about one of his younger siblings hanging out with Seo Changbin. 

“Why are you being like this all of a sudden, anyway?” You chuckle in amusement as your conversation on tonight’s beach bonfire party suddenly finds its way back to Chan expressing his disapproval of the younger boy from your neighbourhood. “This is the first time I’ve heard you remotely close to being mad at someone and he’s not even some random stranger your sibling suddenly started hanging out with. It’s Seo Changbin. We literally raised that punk when we were kids.” 

“Exactly, it’s not ‘cause he’s some guy.” Chan pouts, angrily poking a random twig he found on the way to the beach into the sand and occasionally poking out a harmless crab crawling out of the little hole he’s made while picking up shells. “It’s because he’s Seo Changbin.” 

“So?” You shrug, feigning an innocent tone over your mischievous smirk as you watch him sulk next to you. Arms crossed over his bare chest and folded legs and chin resting on top of his folded free arm like a child, everything about him right now just simply looks so endearing and funny at the same time. “Isn’t that a bit better than just, say, a guy who suddenly popped up when we went to college? You know Changbin well enough and Eun definitely knows Changbin super well since they’re classmates. If he screws up, then you know where to find him. If he takes care of them, then you know how to thank them.” 

“Since I know him, I’d be more disappointed when he screws up.” Chan rolls his eyes, lazily tilting his head to the side to glance up at you waiting for the waves to come back. “Anyway, are we even talking about the same Changbin, Y/N? Even if we grew up with that punk, he also smokes, drinks, has a lot of tattoos and piercings, and scares a lot of his classmates.” 

This time, it’s you rolling your eyes as you try nudging him off-balance with your arm to his thigh. “It’s not like you didn’t smoke, drink, or got piercings with me without auntie’s permission when we were in high school. If anything, I’d like to think he got that from us.” You point out with a scoff of disbelief, eyeing the helix piercing on his right ear that now sports a safety pin earring different from your matching golden stud one. “Plus, you know Changbin only gets a bad rep in his batch because their classmates aren’t exactly the nicest people out there. He’s nice, has good grades, and he showed me his acceptance letter to my uni the other day. You’re just picking out ‘bad traits’ now because he’s dating your sibling.” 

“Ya—” 

You cut him off with a palm in front of his face immediately, sensing his pout grow bigger even with the back of your hand blocking his face. “Admit it or not, Eun’s an adult now who can date whoever they want, even a childhood friend. And Changbin’s a friend so I’m sure it’s all going to be fine.” With a giggle, you then use your other hand to pick up another olive seashell that washes up on shore as if on cue. “You have good intentions, I understand where you’re coming from, but you gotta stop worrying, you big baby. Just worry when Changbin does screw up—though if you’re asking me, I doubt he will.” 

Chan scrunches up his nose, just as another cerith shell surfaces from his mini excavation site on the sand. “Hm, I don’t know. I still can’t shake it off.” He practically whines like a child, his hold on the poor and almost broken twig loosening the more he thinks his thoughts and rants through. “How did this even happen? We literally raised Changbin and Eun ourselves when we were kids...”

You snicker at this, swiping an olive shell from his excavation site as you see it. “Now, you’re picking on him being a childhood friend? What’s your problem with that now?” 

Chan waves both of his hands up defensively in front of him, shaking his head. “It’s not like that! I don’t have problems with childhood friends dating or whatever, not at all! I’m just saying that, all of a sudden, Changbin’s taken an interest on my sibling! Doesn’t that sound a little random to you? Why now, when they’re about to leave for college?”

“Nope, it still sounds like you have a problem with childhood friends dating.” You teasingly accuse with a disapproving shake of your head before shrugging. “You know, sometimes stuff like that just happens! With people you’ve known for so long, sometimes you just fall for them out of nowhere because you start seeing them in a different light! I mean I, for one, like someone I’ve known for a really long time like Changbin but it’s only rece—”

“What?!—” 

“It’s only recent because I thought they were cute when I saw them again.” You finish your thought despite the abrupt shift in Chan’s expression. Eyes wide, posture suddenly straight and alert, and the twig branch in his hand held up like a threatening knife, you bite down your lips in between certain phrases and sentences as you hold back your laughs. “Maybe if we were like 16 again or something, I’d find it gross. But since we’ve been away from each other for a long time and have only been talking on call until lately, I miss hanging out with him and he’s super duper cuter now than before so—yeah, it just happens! It’s normal and totally not weird!” 

“Wha—you...you like someone?!” 

“That all you picked up from my long ass speech? That’s not even my point. My point was to defend Changbin and your sibling dating.” You furrow your brows and feign a frown. “I’m disappointed. You really are a big baby, barely comprehending anything in that pea brain. Oh dear...” 

But as if Chan’s thoughts are still transfixed on your previous statements, he ignores your mocking comment and repeats, “You like someone?! Do I know this guy? Also, what do you mean you’ve known him as long as Changbin and I and why don’t I know this gossip?! Ya, not you too, Y/N!” 

You tease him further with a shrug before picking up an olive shell that the wave brings in, exclaiming in victory. “Ha! I win!” You stick your tongue out at him, picking up your 8 little shells in your cupped hands. “I should make a bracelet out of this, ‘no? For cute guy I’ve known for a long time.” 

“Who is it?!” Chan pesters you even further, poking your rash guard with the twig branch. “Who’ve you been hanging out with since we were kids besides me and Changbin?!” 

“Don’t you worry about him, you big baby, he’s harmless.” You put your collected shells on the side and wave your sandy hand dismissively. “Now, I don’t think 8 shells are gonna cover your entire wrist so would you mind help me picking up more? We could walk a little and check the lagoon.” 

m.list

@skzwriternet 

[redswanned]

Always Together pt 1; Porco x reader

Porco Galliard x reader

childhood friends to lovers, canonverse

word count: 2,510

no warnings, some minor swearing

omg this is my first aot fic ever ahhhh!! I didn’t mean for it to be this long haha but here we are. I hope you all like it! 

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A life without Porco Galliard was a life you couldn’t imagine living. Ever since the two of you were in diapers you’ve been the best of friends, which was a pleasant outcome considering both of your parents were close. Every Sunday night you and your family would have dinner with the Galliards. While you played with Porco and Marcel, both of your parents always talked about moving forward in life.

You realized early on that this meant both you and Porco’s parents shared the dream of becoming honorary Marleyens, which was common amongst Eldians. However, in order to achieve that goal, both of your parents as well as Porco’s signed you all up for the warrior program. They were too caught up in the dream of living a life where they were not oppressed, at the cost of their own children. 

          The training was brutal for mere children, and you felt like you were training harder than actual soldiers. Sometimes it was just too much. As hard as you tried, you noticed yourself falling behind the other kids in training. Hell, even Reiner was better than you by a long shot.

One day, you injured your ankle during the running exercise. Ironically, you weren’t crying from the pain of your swollen ankle. The thought of being ousted from the warrior program and disappointing your parents scared you more. Unlike Porco, you were an only child so your parents were depending on your successful completion of the program entirely to become honorary Marleyans. At this point, you didn’t even bother to reach the finish line. Instead, you wandered off to a more secluded part of the training grounds, an all too familiar tree stump inviting you to rest after a long day. Warm tears flowed down your flushed cheeks as you heard laughter amongst your fellow warrior candidates. 

“They’re probably happy that they’ll be selected for a Titan,” you thought sadly to yourself. You sighed as you realized they probably didn’t notice you were even there. As you tried to hold back sobs, you noticed the sound of running footsteps.

“Hey, Y/N, why didn’t you complete the race? Even that dumbass Reiner beat you!” Called out Porco.

Upon hearing his comment, you began to cry more which stopped him in his tracks. Sure what he said was kind of rude but he didn’t want to make you cry!

“Whoa, calm down! Why are you crying?” He yelled out of concern as he kneeled beside you.

“It’s nothing,” you replied as you wiped your tears.

Porco only stared at you frowning slightly. “Y/N, I’ve known you my whole life I know that something is up when you cry.”

Despite his concern, you didn’t feel like telling him the truth behind your tears. “When I was running I tripped and hurt my ankle,” you said as you sniffed back some tears.

Though he didn’t completely buy your reasoning, he did notice how inflamed your ankle was. He’d ask you about the true reason why you were upset later, his first priority was to get you some help. 

“Here,” said Porco as he reached his hand out to you, “let me help you get to the clinic.”

You took his hand and felt yourself blush as he wrapped it over his shoulder. “Don’t put pressure on that foot,” he warned as the two of you trudged towards the clinic. 

On the way there you saw your fellow warrior candidates conversing amongst themselves. 

“Y/N! Are you alright?” Asked Marcel as he and Pieck quickly ran up to the two of you. 

“Yeah, I just hurt my ankle back there,” you said sheepishly. 

“That doesn’t look too good Y/N, it’s already so swollen. Are you sure you’re okay?” Asked Pieck. 

“Um, yeah I’m fine!” You quickly replied through the pain. 

“If you were fine I think you would’ve crossed the finish line by then,” said Reiner, more concerned than anything.

However, Porco took this as Reiner insulting you. “You know damn well Y/N would’ve beat you on a normal day!” He spat back.

“Hey that’s enough Porco, go help Y/N to the clinic,” said Marcel trying to diffuse the situation.

Porco just frowned at the crowd and pulled you along. You knew he would always defend you, but lately, he’s been getting more mad at Reiner for even talking to you. 

“Porco it’s okay, I don’t think he meant it in a bad way,” you said as you cling to him since he started to pick up the pace after that incident.

“You never know these days Y/N. We’re all competing against each other. He probably feels lucky that you got hurt today since him beating you only boosted his score,” he said as he held the door open for you. 

You decided to let it go as you trudged towards the bed and sat down. The burning pain in your ankle wasn’t getting any better as you slipped off your shoes. Definitely sprained, broken at the worst. You sighed at your predicament, knowing that you’d never become an honorary Marleyan like your friends and their families. Porco ran off to tell commander Magath, who then told Zeke to deal with you since he had some experience patching up wounds and since he was the oldest candidate. 

“Hey Y/N, Porco told me you hurt your ankle?” Asked Zeke as he began to gather some bandages to wrap your injured ankle in. 

You simply nodded before Zeke examined your ankle. 

“Ouch!” You squeaked after he tried to move it sideways.

“Sorry, but I think it’s definitely a bad sprain at this point. It looks like you’ll have to use crutches for the next few weeks,” he said as he frowned slightly. He knew the selection of the candidates among the younger bunch was coming up soon, and this injury didn’t rule in your favor.

“Are you sure Zeke? Can’t you just wrap my foot back up and I can resume training?” You asked tearfully.

The older teen felt sorry for you as you were still determined to work hard for the selection. There was no way you could continue training like this, and your physical test grades weren’t even that high, to begin with. There was no doubt you would not be receiving a Titan. 

“That will only set you back, just focus on healing, okay? The Marleyan trainers were kind enough to give you a break from training to heal,” said Zeke as he finished wrapping your ankle and grabbing the crutches for you. 

You didn’t say anything after, the pain in your ankle was nothing compared to the disappointment and hopelessness you felt knowing you had no chance to improve your training scores. Zeke pat your head as almost a condolence and left the room. As you sat there contemplating your situation yet again, a familiar boy opened the door and took a seat next to you.

“I know you’re not okay and it’s not just about your ankle,” said Porco bluntly as he faced you. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes.

“Y/N, you could tell me. Please?” He said as his face softened. 

You might as well get it over with. “Porco, at this rate I am never going to be chosen for a Titan. You know this too. I’ve tried my hardest but I am nowhere on your level or anyone else’s! I’m pretty sure my marks are the lowest out of us. And I’m going to disappoint my parents by not inheriting a Titan! They will never become honorary Marleyans because of me,” you cried. 

Seeing you cry was difficult for Porco. He always had a soft spot for you and he immediately pulled into a hug. It was rare that he gave out hugs but you were an exception. 

“Hey, don’t cry Y/N, okay? You never know what could happen. You’re way stronger than you think and I mean that. You’re even stronger than that loser Reiner! Don’t give up just yet. You heard Zeke, you need to rest. An injury like that proves you’ve been working hard so maybe those in charge will notice that too,” said Porco as he tried to comfort you. A part of him knew that there was a chance you wouldn’t inherit a Titan, neither would Reiner since there were only five titans available to inherit. Still, you could always work your way up as a soldier and earn merit that way. It was rare though since Eldians are not allowed to order Marleyans. There had to be another way.

His words comforted you a little. It was nice to see someone have faith in you for once. Maybe he was right, there could be another way you become an honorary Marleyan. 

Several weeks passed by and the selection for inheriting Titans was revealed. It stung when you realized you were not selected a Titan, but you had prepared yourself for this revelation for the past few weeks. Your jaw dropped when you heard Porco was not chosen either. You stood with the rest of the group as Porco lashed out at Reiner, him yelling in disbelief that someone who he believed performed worse than him was chosen instead. Marcel pried his brother away from Reiner as Porco sobbed in defeat. The whole scene was heartbreaking to watch. You knew how hard Porco worked all these years, but you were also surprised that Reiner was able to get a Titan. That factor made you think that you had some of the necessary skills to inherit a Titan since you were not that far from Reiner. 

All of the other chosen candidates left the room for the festival and left you and a sobbing Porco. It was now your turn to comfort him. “Hey Porco, I know you tried your best out there. It’s okay though, you still get to be an honorary Marleyan because of Marcel!” you said trying to cheer him up.

“It’s not about that,” he sobbed, “I can’t believe I’m this weak! I thought I was so strong but clearly, I’m not!”

“Remember what you told me the day I hurt my ankle?” you asked and he looked up, “You told me that I am stronger than I think I am and I think that also applies to you. Don’t give up hope just yet, I think you should stay in the program. You have what it takes to inherit a Titan in the future!” 

He wiped his tears and simply nodded, listening to your words. Maybe they’ll hold some truth one day, but he will keep training to get stronger. This time, you brought him into a hug which he returned. “Thank you,” he whispered. 

“What are you going to do since you also weren’t chosen today?” asked Porco. 

“Be a disappointment to my parents,” you said sarcastically with a small chuckle. 

“Don’t think that way, Y/N. There’s always so much more than their opinion of you,” he said frowning.

“Oh I know, it’s just I’m prepared for the guilt I’m going to be feeling. But I’ll probably try studying to become a nurse. At least then I can be useful on the battlefield,” you replied.

Porco’s eyes lit up as you told him of your prospective plans, “I wouldn’t mind having you as my nurse one day,” he said as he blushed. 

“I hope for your sake that you aren’t my patient, because well, that would mean you got hurt,” you chuckled blushing as well. 

Unfortunately, that was one of the last conversations you had with Porco for a while. Since you didn’t have Marleyan citizenship, you were moved back to the internment zone which showed you how hard life was for your kind. Your parents didn’t help either, they seemed eternally disappointed in you since they relied on you for Marleyan citizenship. You spent your days working at a small restaurant, which was tough since the management was pretty rude. Not to mention that the pay wasn’t great either but it was more than nothing. However, the shunning you felt from your parents was unbearable. Every time you were in a room with them the overwhelming feeling of your failure haunted you. All you wanted to do was to see Porco, but he was too busy continuing training. 

Occasionally, on both of your rare days off, Porco would come to visit the internment zone where you caught up on life. You both confided in one another about being perceived as failures, which was not true at all. Without the other trainees around, you and Porco became much closer over the years. You’ve never been able to open up to anyone else and vice versa. 

          One day Porco came to you and tearfully informed you that Marcel had died early on in the mission to receive the founding Titan. It was one thing losing a friend, but you understood that Porco was suffering the most since Marcel was his one and only brother. Your arms became his safe haven as he sobbed away, missing his older brother and wondering why he had to leave this world so young. You cried with him, you had known Marcel since childhood too and he was suddenly gone. As much as Marcel’s death hurt both of you, it brought you two even closer. Recounting the good times you both had with Marcel was healing for both of you. And when Porco found out Reiner and Bertolt brought back the girl who had inadvertently killed him, Ymir, he knew that it would be his duty to consume her in order to obtain the Jaw Titan. You could not be happier for Porco in that aspect; his dream of inheriting a Titan was finally coming true. At the same time, this also meant he would have to leave you for military duties. As much as you hated that harsh reality, you were happy that his skills were put to use. The news broke out about the new war with the Mid-East Alliance, and you knew it would be a while before you saw him again. 

After his parents said their goodbyes to their only son left, you approached your best friend tearfully and embraced him. 

“I’m going to miss you Porco, please stay safe,” you cried into his chest. 

“I will don’t worry about me Y/N,” he said as he returned the embrace. 

You pulled away from him and he frowned at your tear-stained face. “Come on Y/N, you know I hate seeing you cry,” he said with a slight blush. 

“I can’t help it,” you giggled in between tears, “Promise to send each other letters?”

“Of course I will,” he said as he grabbed your hand and squeezed it comfortably. 

That was the last time you saw Porco Galliard for four years. You didn’t know it at the time you stood on the dock, but your life would change drastically in a way that would change you and Porco forever.

[disastermages]

[read it on ao3]

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Wen Qing isn’t in the kitchen by the time Meng Yao walks back in, though her voice does call out to him when he passes by a door that’s always been previously closed. He doesn’t expect her white coat, nor does he expect the way it makes him feel smaller than her, though she sits in a chair, one leg crossed over the other. Her jeans and boots ruin the picture of her as a doctor, but she’s pulled her hair back, making her look professional from the knee up.

“Can I help you, Miss Wen?” Meng Yao won’t let the confusion sound in his voice, though he still holds onto the doorway. Wen Qing looks meaningfully at the chair across from her, but Meng Yao won’t take the bait until she asks him to. For a long few seconds, Wen Qing seems content to wait him out too, studying her short, unpainted nails and writing things down on the clipboard she balances on her knees.

“Mrs. Yu asks that every member of the household undergo a monthly check up. I’m not doing this for fun.” Wen Qing says finally, clicking her pen once, twice, three times while she frowns up at Meng Yao, “Please have a seat so we can get the questionnaire done.” Meng Yao sits down across from her without further fight, but he doesn’t stop himself from looking around.

“Why have I never seen this room before?”

“Because you aren’t Wei Wuxian and you don’t insist on climbing every tree you can find.” Wen Qing answers, but doesn’t look up from where she’s printing his name onto the form, her hand heavy and sure as it carves out the letters. “You have your office upstairs, and I have mine down here.”

At second glance, Meng Yao sees the piles of books laying just behind a cluster of mugs and glasses, though no plates lay in the office. There’s no examination table to be found, and Meng Yao is grateful for it. “Your birth date and year, please.”

“February 20th, 1964.” Meng Yao answers easily, his hands sit carefully on his own knees, but his fingers still want to tighten and pull at his pants. His chair was already uncomfortable.

“Can you tell me what today’s date is and where you are?”

“The date is May 16th, 1988, and I am at Jiang Manor.” The questions were simple ones, Wen Qing even nods approvingly to herself, but Meng Yao can guess what’s coming. Doctors always asked for complete patient histories, though nothing Meng Yao told her would leave the office, he’d shut the door behind him after he’d finally come in. She would ask eventually, and Meng Yao would have to answer her. He couldn’t lie completely, just in case she already had his records, but he could tell the same lies that were already in those records.

Still, she asks all the questions she should, moving down a list as if he were sitting down inside of an actual doctor’s office. No, he does not smoke, nor does he drink more than the occasional glass of wine. No, to his knowledge, heart disease does not run in his family.Yes, he is sexually active. Yes, he is using protection.

Meng Yao hadn’t missed the flicker of amusement in Wen Qing’s eye when she’d asked the last two questions, but she’s still playing at being professional, so Meng Yao will play along. “Why does Mrs. Yu ask that we do this?”

“Hypochondria by proxy.” Wen Qing says it with a snort, but then her eyes widen and snap up to Meng Yao’s face, her mouth growing hard for a moment before she sighs and sets the clipboard aside. “Don’t repeat what I said, it’s not even an official diagnosis.” Wen Qing pinches the bridge of her nose between two fingers and when she takes her hand away, the spot between her eyes is pink and irritated. “Yanli’s illness is autoimmune, but that doesn’t stop Mrs. Yu from worrying that we’re all going to bring in something that’s going to kill her. She’s getting better.”

Meng Yao isn’t sure who Wen Qing means. The whole house had been treating Jiang Yanli delicately since her fainting spell, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t feeling better. If Yu Ziyuan were getting better, why would she still mandate his check up? He doesn’t ask, he’d have to wait and see.

They go back to playing professionals after that, with Wen Qing shining a flashlight in his eyes and knocking a plastic hammer against his knee caps. She doesn’t ask him to test his grip strength on her fingers.

“You have a broken wrist and three broken ribs on your file, following a fall down a flight of stairs, could I see the flexibility in that wrist? I’ll want to take a look at your ribs, too.” His wrist only ached when it was cold, Meng Yao tells her as he bends it back and forth and rolls it easily. There’s still a clicking sound, but the pain of it has long since faded.

“I’ll be quick about this.” Wen Qing promises as Meng Yao removes his button down and then his undershirt, pressing her cold fingers into his ribs harder than Meng Yao deems necessary. “How did you fall?” The question is neutral, and Wen Qing’s voice is calm, but the voice of the triage nurse had also been calm while she took down his information. He hadn’t been able to write it down himself, he’d driven himself to the emergency room one handed.

“I was at my father’s house, I tripped.” Meng Yao chooses the words carefully, just like he had the night it happened. The doctors and nurses at the hospital had been willing to take his word for it then, but when he glances down at Wen Qing, he sees something hard and cold in her eyes. It doesn’t fade as she sits back into her chair, giving him room to dress again.

“You’ve healed well.” Wen Qing offers it up without roughness or warmth, as if she already knew the truth and she could accept his lie as some sort of gift. It was a gift Meng Yao is willing to take, though, better the gift of acceptance than the charity of pity.

Her examination is complete, but Wen Qing still doesn’t set Meng Yao free, her small, pale hands coming to rest in her own lap as she sets the clipboard aside for good. “You have to understand, Meng Yao, that Yanli has grown very attached to you, very quickly. She’s friendly with everyone, but even with me, she didn’t share everything right away.” Wen Qing does not touch him, but she looks as though she’s thinking about it, her eyes going dark and still, “She considers you a friend, please don’t make her regret that choice.”

There were a dozen things Meng Yao could say to defend himself, but when he opens his mouth and Wen Qing looks up at him again. He realizes then that she’s asking him for a favor, and he nods along with it, swallowing thickly.

“Something else before I let you go, Meng Yao,” Wen Qing nods and looks away from him, pulling herself back together while she wrestles an envelope from the stack of papers on her desk, “my uncle has found out that you’re here, he’s asked me to pass along his letter of recommendation to you, should you ever need it.” For a long moment, the letter hangs between them, and Meng Yao’s mouth hangs open like a fish.

Wen Ruohan and both of his sons were supposed to be in three separate maximum security prisons, Meng Yao had only worked for them for a year when the offices and three of the houses had been raided. Meng Yao had been spared implication by eight months. Misfortune had reached for him and grabbed Wen Ruohan and his sons by the collars instead.

“I thought…”

“He’s still allowed to write to family, Meng Yao, but I wouldn’t doubt they check his letters.”

No matter how badly he wants to, Meng Yao won’t tear the letter open in front of Wen Qing, instead, he nods his head once more and turns to leave, listening to the scratching of Wen Qing’s pen as the door nearly shuts behind him.

“You’ll find a shoe box full of condoms in the third drawer of my filing cabinet, should you need them. Mrs. Yu makes me keep those, too.”

Wen Qing tosses it over her shoulder as if it means nothing, but Meng Yao feels his cheeks color as he hurries away from her office as quickly as he can without running. He’s grateful that she doesn’t like him enough to ask him for details. Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian either didn’t know, or didn’t care, and Jiang Yanli was too kind to ask, she only hinted and grinned when Meng Yao’s cheeks colored, when she wasn’t passing along gifts from Wen Qing’s hands.

Still, part of him wants to tell someone, so it’s more real than the small, cold square of his bedroom or stolen kisses in the woods while Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian ran ahead of them to push each other into the river. Part of him wants to know if Lan Xichen would mind such a thing, or if he intended on keeping what lay between him and Meng Yao more of a secret than it already was.

Bile and worry rise up in his throat, but Meng Yao chokes them down. He wouldn’t go there. Lan Xichen hadn’t given him any kind of indication that he wanted to keep what’s between them the kind of secret one keeps locked in the basement or in a closet with skeletons, he’d only told Meng Yao to be careful of Yu Ziyuan, that she wouldn’t fire either of them, that she would just plant herself between them if she saw them getting too close. Lan Xichen didn’t strike him as cruel, so he couldn’t be. He’d always been kind, even when he stole into Meng Yao’s room, even when he was forced to wrangle Wei Wuxian or Jiang Wanyin.

Lan Xichen is kind. Meng Yao would allow him to be.

The taste of something bitter and cruel is just leaving Meng Yao’s mouth when he sees him, the same boy from the woods, wearing the same clothes and lingering at the edge of the Jiang’s property line, one hand resting on a tree, while the other holds a knife, an amused smile on his face, even as Meng Yao turns and hurries back to the kitchen, uncaring if anyone hears him run now.

Jiang Yanli whirls around with a knife still held in her hands when Meng Yao scrambles into the kitchen, an apron protects the gray-white of her dress from whatever it is she’s cooking. “Do you see him?” Meng Yao asks, turning the lock on the back door and latching it.

For a moment, Jiang Yanli only looks at Meng Yao, before she turns to look out the window, and then she pales further. “Xue Yang.” Her voice doesn’t climb above a whisper as she backs away from the window, the knife still held in one hand while the other grabs onto Meng Yao’s elbow, holding him tight as they both back out into the dining room. “You have to go get A-Xian and A-Cheng.” Jiang Yanli’s voice is tight as she gives her orders, her grip tightening still, “He’s tried to hurt A-Xian before, but A-Cheng’s temper… I don’t want either of them going out there. Where is Wen Qing?” It doesn’t feel as though Jiang Yanli is going to let him go long enough for Meng Yao to collect her brothers, but he still backs her further away, until he’s sure she’s out of sight from any of the kitchen windows.

They both back into the same chair, but Jiang Yanli is the one who threatens it with her knife, her shoulders high and tight.

It takes Meng Yao nearly five minutes to guide Jiang Yanli back to Wen Qing’s office, but the door is locked when they get there. Meng Yao doesn’t stop himself from pounding on it with the flat of his hand. He doesn’t see the boy, Xue Yang when he dares to glance at the window, but that meant nothing at all, not when Wen Qing still hadn’t answered them.

Meng Yao’s hand almost meets her nose when she finally opens the door with a jerk, a question already halfway out of her mouth when she sees the knife in Jiang Yanli’s hand, for the first time, Meng Yao sees that there’s still broccoli stuck to the blade. Wen Qing insists on calling the police after she’s gotten Jiang Yanli to sit down in the same chair that Meng Yao had occupied earlier, but the knife lays on the desk, just within her reach as Meng Yao turns to try and call Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin down, but he gets no response.

Licking his lips, Meng Yao glances back once, his eyes meeting Wen Qing’s while she stays on the line, one of her hands has already found its way onto Jiang Yanli’s cheek, one show of affection already bigger than what Meng Yao had already seen. Without a word, she frowns and nods, wedging the phone between her shoulder and ear to wave him out of the room.

He didn’t have to ask her to lock the door, and she didn’t have to tell him she was going to. Jiang Yanli would be safe with Wen Qing, at least until he could find her younger brothers and herd them into Wen Qing’s office too.

Meng Yao keeps clear of the windows, calling them again, even as he starts down his short flight of stairs. Wei Wuxian’s workshop was mostly soundproofed, they might not have heard him call because they were in there with the door closed, but when Meng Yao opens the door without knocking, everything is still and dark. It makes Meng Yao’s skin prickle, Wei Wuxian’s workshop wasn’t meant to be still, Meng Yao knows that much.

“Jiang Wanyin! Wei Wuxian!” Meng Yao doesn’t shout for them, but he lets his voice become sharp as he climbs the stairs two at a time. He should have grabbed something. There were knives to spare in the kitchen, but Jiang Yanli wouldn’t forgive him if he lost one or damaged it, it was better to leave them where they lay in their drawers. “Your sister and Miss Wen want the both of you downstairs.”

Meng Yao isn’t foolish enough to pretend he has any authority over them, if Lan Xichen had been present, Meng Yao might have invoked his name too, but Lan Xichen would be home with his family by now. What would they do with them when they did get them downstairs and herded into Wen Qing’s office? They couldn’t stay there all day and night, there’d hardly been enough room for Meng Yao, Jiang Yanli, and Wen Qing in the office. Five people would be unforgivably tight and nervous while they were stalked by Xue Yang in the yard.

Meng Yao should have grabbed something, even if it were just the fire poker, like Yu Ziyuan had done. It would have been a constant in his hands. It might have done something.

He opens the doors without care now, stopping for only a handful of seconds to look before he moves on again, anxiety climbing up his throat and bringing that bitter-sick taste back into his mouth.

Calling again, Meng Yao rounds the corner that leads to the west wing of the house without realizing it until the chill surrounds him. He doesn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around himself, he won’t acknowledge that he can see his own breath, not now, not until he finds Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian.

“I won’t ask again, come out and come downstairs with me!” Finally, Meng Yao allows his voice to become stern, though who knows if they’d think anything of it, if they did hear him. He’s just about to turn around and start searching downstairs when the creaking of a door makes Meng Yao walk too quickly towards it, his hand catching the knob and pushing inside before he can think better of it.

“Your sister wants you downstairs, the police are on their way, please come down with me now, before she starts to worry.” Frustration had kept him blind for a moment, but when Meng Yao looks, the room is empty and colder than the hallway had been. His breath is clinging to his lips in steady, white clouds now, and his hand leaves the doorknob.

The door wastes no time in slamming shut the second his back is turned, the knob refusing to turn no matter how many times Meng Yao rattles it or tries with all his strength. “Let me out.” Meng Yao tries to gather what’s left of the sternness before, but his throat is starting to feel thick. “Jiang Wanyin, Wei Wuxian, now isn’t the time for pranks, let me out and I won’t tell Miss Jiang what you’ve done.” He’s not pleading, Meng Yao tells himself, he’s bargaining. If he bargains, they might let him out with the cruel laughter only teenage boys are capable of.

Meng Yao pounds one fist against the door now, the other still rattling the doorknob, as if someone might hear him and let him out from the outside, shivering all the while. He doesn’t dare glance behind himself, even as he hears another door in the room swing open. He tries to tell himself that he’s imagining the fingers curling around his neck, his voice raising as he finally lets himself plead to be let out, but no answer ever comes. No cruel laughter ever echoes through the halls and no footfalls of Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian ever sound as Meng Yao squeezes his eyes shut.

A voice Meng Yao has never heard before calls out to him, and air, still colder than before, nags at his ear and at his upper arms while the voice pleads for him to turn around, to turn around and look. He won’t pretend he can’t hear the grin in that voice, it makes him too sick to ignore. Laughter rings out around him, changing the voice from high pitched and grating to something lower and closer, but madder all the same, the hands at his throat squeezing tight once more before they’re gone and the door swings open, dropping him onto the hallway floor while Meng Yao coughs and sputters.

His vision is still blurry when two shapes come running to him, both of them dropping down to their knees and calling out to a third, smaller shape behind them. He has to blink and cough a while longer before his eyes focus on the faces of Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian, even as Jiang Yanli comes to kneel between the two of them, her face wild and afraid.

“Where were they?” Meng Yao asks Jiang Yanli instead of either of her brothers, his throat still feeling rough, but he doesn’t dare reach for it, Jiang Yanli’s hands are already on his shoulders, stopping Meng Yao from trying to stand up on his own.

“A-Xian and A-Cheng were in the downstairs west wing,” Jiang Yanli says calmly, trying hard to control her face, even as both of her brothers sit back and look away, or at each other, “they said they heard a door slam and someone start screaming right above their heads.” Meng Yao wouldn’t call what he’d done screaming, but he still swallows and nods, though his throat aches. “What happened?”

Jiang Yanli’s voice isn’t accusatory, but she does look over Meng Yao’s head and into the room, a frown on her face and her hands holding Meng Yao tighter. “The door was open, I thought your brothers might be in there, but when I went in to look, the door slammed shut and wouldn’t open again.” Meng Yao doesn’t tell her about the hands, or the laughter, not yet, not in front of the other two.

“It gets drafty up here.” Jiang Wanyin supplies weakly, and Jiang Yanli shakes her head.

“You know that’s not what it was, A-Cheng.” One hand leaves Meng Yao’s shoulder and presses against Jiang Wanyin’s cheek, tilting his head up from where he’d lowered it. Jiang Yanli does not smile, but she nods her head and strokes her thumb underneath her brother’s eye. “A-Yao, the police are searching the woods right now, and Wen Qing is waiting on the porch for them, I’d like to get you downstairs where we can look at your neck.”

Meng Yao knows the tone that Jiang Yanli is using now, he’d heard her use it dozens of times with both of her brothers, and even more rarely, with her mother or Wen Qing. She’s plying him with a sweet tone of voice, and Meng Yao lets her, though he insists on getting up on his own.

All three Jiang Siblings clump around him on the stairs, keeping him safe in the middle, with Jiang Yanli leading and Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian bringing up the rear.

Meng Yao lets it be.

For now.

[troop-scoop]

Youth I

Chapter One -  Pilot

Word count: 2k

Series Summary: On a family trip to your dad’s home town of Hawkins, Indiana, you make a series of decisions that result in you ending up in the year 1983 with more questions than there are answers presently available. 

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader ( slow burn ) 

Chapter Summary: You go through what’s become your new ‘normal’ at Hawkins High School

⟛⟛

Nothing about your current situation was settling right in your stomach. There were no answers as to how you got here, and you didn’t have any questions that could easily be answered. A series of unfortunate events resulted in the attitude you carried. You used to be sweet, all smiles and laughter unless someone did something to make you upset.

What happened to that girl? The girl who grew up never experiencing fear to the point where it worried her parents and made teachers concerned because she’d climb so high on the playground that if you fell, you’d surely break something.

You’d climbed so high on something, and you fell into this situation, and something did break. Your bravery, your fearlessness, nothing physical, but those two things were shattered, and your ego bruised.

Nothing was like what you were used to. To you, everything in this school hallway was dated. The fashion, the haircuts, the textbooks, and the tech.

The stereotypes.

“L/n!”

You shook your head, already knowing whose voice that was. A teenage boy who fit the typical ‘jock’ stereotype that everyone knew. The kid who hated his small town, he got around, played a sport his father probably hated, who would likely never get out of said small town he hated. Yeah, you knew the pattern. Everyone, where you were from, did.

“No.”

You continued on your trek to the locker, but you could hear the slight squeaking of the soles of the older boy’s Nikes on the linoleum floor trying to catch up. Where you were from, people would be staring at this type of occurrence, but because none of the students surrounding you even batted an eye at the basketball player or you for that matter, told you that it wasn’t abnormal for him to be audacious.

“Hey now, I just wanna talk.” He defended, finally catching up to you, walking alongside, but a little bit behind so he didn’t get in anyone’s way.

“Harrington, the last time you wanted to ‘talk’ was when you needed my math homework.” A chuckle escaped you as you said it, finally stopping at your locker.

“In my defense, you don’t look like a sophomore.” He tried, standing next to you as you were spinning the knob in the locker to get it open.

“Whatever, what do you want?”

“Wow, you’re grumpy. Anyways, Tommy H, Carol, and I wanna hang out but my parents don’t leave for another week, and we can’t be at Carol’s place because her mom hates Tommy, and well, you know how Tommy’s dad is.”

You hummed in amusement. “Yeah, he’s a dick, how does that involve me?” You had your binder and pencil case in one arm, staring at him with your hand inside of your locker, holding onto the cup of coffee.

“Can we hang out at your place?”

Rolling your eyes you kneeled down, placing your things down on the ground before standing upright, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pulling it towards your locker, placing it inside before closing the door on it. “Not happening.” You responded, a bright smile on your face as you grabbed your things, taking a step to walk away.

“Y/n! This isn’t funny!”

“I’m gonna correct you on that, it’s not funny to you.” The situation was probably the funniest thing you’d encountered in weeks, and considering your day to day life before used to be full of laughter and playfully teasing, that then went to quiet days spent alone and pondering, this was a nice change.

“Unlock it or I’ll tell Mrs. Jensen!”

Steve’s threat caused you to laugh, holding your things closer so you didn’t drop any of them. “A tattletale? You always did strike me as the type to tease kids in elementary school, but you never did seem like a snitch, you do know the saying right? About snitches?”

“Yeah, from you!” he responded, and although he had a serious face, you knew he was fighting back a smile as well by his voice and how his brows weren’t furrowed in frustration or anger.

“Snitches are bitches, who get stitches and end up in ditches.” it wasn’t intentional for both of you to say it at the same time, but you had, but in two very different tones of voice. Your’s was more ‘matter of fact’ and he was amused.

You stared at him for a second, your smile remaining before you stepped forward,  turning the dial of your lock to open it, and once you lifted the lever for the door, Steve got himself out, standing up straight and staring down at you, his hands finding the pockets of his jacket as you closed the locker door again. “That wasn’t fair, you look innocent,” he mumbled to himself.

“I’ll see you later?” Steve asked after a second.

“We have study hall together, so. . . maybe,” you told him, stepping away from the locker and heading down the hallway to your English class.

Bulletin boards on the walls, spaced out between each other, with thumbtacks keeping flyers and announcements up for students to see, lockers for students to keep their things throughout the day. It was all odd.

At your previous schools, lockers weren’t available. That was until your freshman year where you had to pay five dollars a year if you wanted one. And instead of bulletin boards, flyers and announcements would just be taped to the walls, or given during morning announcements, or emailed to students and parents. You were pretty sure your previous high school got rid of lockers in the late ’90s when drugs became prominent in your area and then got rid of bulletin boards when one student sent the other to the hospital with a thumbtack to the wrist, but those types of stories always had a few details in them that never made sense, allowing you to cast doubt on them. But maybe the story had just been told so many times that detail got twisted, the truth of what happened got misconstrued. Like a game of telephone.

Reaching the English classroom, you found your seat, with your anxiousness rising as you sat down, placing your coffee at the upper corner of your small desk, keeping your school supplies close to your chest.

You’d been a happy kid growing up. You didn’t have very many friends, but you had your parents, your little brother, and a condo that you’d been brought home to as a newborn that you knew was a safe place. Unlike the few friends you did have, you never really experienced anxiety or symptoms of depression, but you knew the signs, your closest friend, Mandy, dealt with it, and she confided in you often about how it felt and what it was like, and you often did your own research on it to know what you could to help her.

There were weekends where you spent a good few hours learning different breathing techniques to help her whenever she would have a panic attack, but now that you were dealing with moments where your heart sped up, your hands shook and you felt like something was terribly wrong, it was like all of those hours had been a waste because you couldn’t use them without getting more anxious.

“You okay?”

Looking to your left, you were met with a curious glance from your partner on the English project. Giving an unconvincing nod, you looked down at the top of your desk, eyes tracing over the wood pattern, lines connecting that looked like they shouldn’t, forming shapes and allowing you to distract yourself as Jonathan set his things down as well, taking his seat next to you.

Mrs. Jensen went over the usual, giving instructions for the project that everyone already knew, before leaving everyone to work, with her sitting behind her desk, a book in hand and a container of what you assumed were grapes by the purplish color. Though they could have been large blueberries.

“What’s so important about a quote?” Jonathan mumbled to himself, though it caught your attention from your own worksheet, looking over to him.

“In what context?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink as he began speaking.

“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet, everyone knows what it’s about, you don’t really need a quote to explain things.”

You nodded when he looked over to you. “A lot of people only really know that it was written by Shakespeare and it’s about two star crossed lovers who kill themselves in the end. Mrs. Jensen probably knew that’s all anyone really remembers, she wants to make sure people know what’s actually happening.

“It’s pretty obvious, ‘Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?’ she’s asking where he is.” He shrugged a bit, placing the book down on the desk, pages open and light reflecting off of the glossy pages.

“No, she’s not,” you told him, getting an odd and questioning look from him. “Well, this was written in the 1500s, English is practically a new language at that point, getting its own footing for once, paintings of historical figures wouldn’t have the English spelling of their names, and English is a language that’s taken a bunch of different parts from other languages, mostly german. If you ever see a period piece that’s set around this period of time, if a child says ‘lady mother’ when they’re addressing their mom, they’re not acknowledging that their mother is a female. They’re acknowledging her title. So her husband is likely a lord of a piece of land, which makes her the lady of that land as well. It was an archaic way of showing respect to their mother by also saying she had a title.”

“How does that relate to the quote?”

“Well, early modern English had many different phrases, and things have changed, we’ve come up with ways to say things that are far more simple. While we think she’s asking where Romeo is, she’s actually asking why he’s Romeo. Why out of all the people she could have fallen for, it had to be him. The enemy. You could use that in the analysis, a bit of how it shows we don’t choose who we love, even if we know we shouldn’t love them.”

Jonathan blinked before looking at his worksheet, picking up his pencil and writing something down, paraphrasing what you had just said and only moments later the bell rang, signaling the end of the class period.

You grabbed your things, leaving as quickly as you could without looking like an idiot, trying to get away from what caused you to be so nervous and make you feel like you could be sick at any moment.

Growing up, you weren’t afraid of many things if any. But maybe you just needed something like this to make you afraid of everything and anything around you. To make you jump at the sound of a drop of water from outside your motel window landing on the metal railing of the stairs and walkway.

But you were terrified, and you wanted to wake up in your own bed, at home, with your dad gently shaking your shoulder to get you up and out of bed. You were terrified you’d never see your parents again, that you’d been too mean to your little brother growing up, and that the last memory he’d have of you was you being mean.

You hadn’t even been afraid to sleep on your own as a kid, and all the things that you weren’t afraid of as a child that you should have been, always seemed to worry your dad. But what would he say and think now? Would he be worried now that you lived in a constant state of fear? Just looking at clothing racks scared you.

Since July you’d been trying to act normal, trying to pretend everything was okay, trying to be your normal self, but your normal self would be odd to everyone else, you knew random things no one else did, you liked things no one even knew about yet, and if you tried to talk about those things, you knew it wouldn’t be a good outcome, not a sour one, but not happy.

⟛⟛

Add yourself to the taglist!

tagging who i know would want to be - 

@stonersteve​ @ilovebucketbarnes​

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Amsterdam Chapter 17

“Peter, Jamison wants you in his office.”

Peter winced and clutched the handle of his bag defensively. “I’m not late!” he said desperately.

Beth rolled her eyes at him, purple eye shadow glinting in the office lights. “It doesn’t matter,” she said firmly. “He wants you in his office now.”

Peter knew better than to argue. The whole staff of the Daily Bugle knew better than to argue. He quickly made his way through the crowded halls of the Bugle to Jamison’s office and timidly knocked to introduce himself before going in. Standing at Jamison’s desk was another man, a guy with short, pitch black hair, who looked about as happy as Jamison—i.e. not at all. “I’m here, Mr. Jamison,” said Peter nervously.

“Peter, meet Eddie. Eddie, this is Peter. What have you got for me today, Peter?” demanded Jamison’s harshly. Peter could hear the crunching noise as he savagely chewed through the candy he’d taken to eating when he’d stopped smoking.

Peter quickly reached into his bag and pulled out the pictures he’d taken before handing them to his boss. “He—hello,” he stammered towards Eddie. The man just glared at him and Peter tried to retreat further into himself.

He found himself wishing, as Jamison went through the photos, that Wade was with him. He had no doubt that Wade’s presence might just antagonize his coworkers at the Bugle more—but Peter found his presence reassuring. He felt warm and safe with Wade and none of that had anything to do with how Wade was determined to not only respect Spiderman’s identity, but defend him against what anyone else had to say about the subject. Nope. Not at all.

Jamison slammed one of the photos onto the desk and Peter jumped—and then stared, confused. It wasn’t one of his best works; the lines were blurred and it was difficult to see what was going on. Why would Jamison draw attention to t his one?

“See that, Eddie?” growled Jamison. “This is the worst of Parker’s photos. And this,” he added as he slammed down another one—showing Iron Man and Black Widow in battle with a faceless (literally) man, “This is the quality he usually brings me. You want his job? Do it better.”

Peter first glowed at the rare (exceptionally rare) praise until he realized the other man wanted his job. Why? The Bugle didn’t even pay that much, and Peter knew for a fact that they negotiated to sell the photos to other newspapers and sites. He cringed away from the sudden death glare he was getting from the other man.

“Parker, the printer’s acting up again,” growled Jamison.

Peter didn’t have to be told twice. “Yes, Sir,” he said quickly retreating from the office. Beth looked up and smirked at him. “You knew,” he whispered, feeling betrayed.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I knew. Just as I know that he’ll be hired anyway, because Jamison loves his turn of invective phrase. And when you’re done with the printer I need help with the website.”

Peter nodded jerkily and went to get a set of the company over-alls that they used for the printing press in the basement. The thing was old, and was always jamming. It was easy enough to fix—and messy enough that only people at the bottom of the hierarchy (Peter) were sent to do it. He cleared the old blockage and closed the lid before jumping back at the sight of Eddie staring at him.

Eddie regarded him through narrowed eyes. “How do you do it?” he demanded suspiciously.

“I—uh, I take out the old paper to clear the blockage before refilling with new paper,” said Peter warily as he moved, cautiously, towards the door. He didn’t understand why he was suddenly sharing a room with Eddie—the man looked at him like he was scum and his senses were giving a low-level, irritating buzz.

“Not that,” said Eddie. His tone was casual. His body language was anything but. “I mean the pictures.”

Peter was even more confused. “The pictures? Well, the programming does most of the work—”

“The pictures you take,” growled Eddie through clenched teeth. “How do you know the best places to be?”

Oh. Oh. Peter nervously fidgeted with the safety goggles he was wearing. “I work at Stark Industries,” he said, “and they’re pretty good about assistants taking odd breaks as long as all the work gets done.”

“What does that—oh.” Eddie regarded Peter with a little bit more respect. “So you use the information you get at work to know when and where to go.”

“It’s not secret information,” Peter said quickly. He didn’t want anyone to think he was stealing secrets from Mr. Stark. “They announce it over the intercom. The only times I can’t go is when they’re expecting something to attack the Tower and lock it down with everyone inside.” The buzz wasn’t diminishing, and Peter swallowed. “I’ve got to—I’ve got to go,” he said quickly before fleeing.

He carefully hung the ink stained over-alls back up, grabbed his bag, and clocked out before leaving. He fled the building and then sighed as he trudged back home. He had some money from Jamison—but he was going to have to use it for the rest of his rent, some food, and some more medical supplies. His first aid kit was dangerously low, and he didn’t have anything to eat at home. The food he’d gotten at Oscorp was already wearing thin. Not for the first time, he cursed his quick metabolism.

“Petey-Pie!” called a familiar voice.

Peter whirled to see the familiar red and black figure coming towards him. “Wade!” he said happily right before he was squeezed in a hug.

“Oh, Petey-Pie! It’s been forever since I hugged you!”

Peter reached around the mercenary to hug him back and felt tense muscles relaxing. “You liar,” he said fondly. “It was just four o’clock this afternoon.”

“Do you know how many chapters that was Petey?” whined Wade. “I need my Peter fix!” He rubbed his masked cheek against Peter’s bare one and the stitches rasped against his face.

“Chapters?” he asked in confusion. “Are you reading a book?”

“I’d tell ya, Pete,” said Wade as he held the smaller man, “but you’d think I was crazy.”

Peter chuckled and gently squeezed in a return hug. “You are crazy,” he said fondly.

Crazy enough to believe he could change.

Crazy enough to believe Spiderman had a good reason for keeping his identity secret.

Crazy enough to get close to Peter Parker.

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” Wade said.

Peter leaned back enough to where he could look into the whites of Wade’s mask. “Who says it’s a bad thing?” he challenged. “I—”

“So this is how you get your information,” said voice, dripping with disgust. Peter broke way enough to see Eddie behind them. The raw disgust on his face was enough to make him take a step back, and the mere sight brought back that low-level warning buzz. “Fucking the freaks.”

“Hmm. Peter, who is this?” asked Deadpool as he tucked himself around Peter again.

“This is Eddie. I think he’s my coworker?” Jamison had mentioned something about Eddie wanting his job—but why? It just didn’t pay that much, and no one like to wrangle the printer.

“Oh? Hello Eddie. I’d offer to shake your hand, but I’m hugging my baby boy right now.” The arm around Peter’s waist tightened slightly, and the other crossed Peter’s torso. Peter would have relaxed into the embrace—if he hadn’t been all too aware of the fact that Deadpool had just moved his hand closer to his sword.

Eddie put both his hands in his pockets—and Peter winced. Deadpool had once sliced the arms off of a crook who did that (I swear he was reaching for a gun, and you’re not bullet-proof Spidey!) and Peter waited anxiously to see what would happen. Eddie simply left his hands there, and chuckled.

The sound was disturbingly similar to what Norman had uttered as Harry was recovering from nearly dying in the office.

“I just want to get an edge, that’s all,” Eddie said with a sly grin. Without looking at Peter he asked, “Peter, do you believe in the concept of fair play?”

“Um—yes?”

“Do you believe that in a competition to see who is truly the best, both people should be on equal footing?

“…yes?”

The grin widened. “Excellent. Hey, Deadpool. How about you give me a heads up, next time shit’s going down?”

Deadpool tucked his chin into the crook of Peter’s neck and there was a slight change—an almost relaxation that left him somewhere between Deadpool and Wade. “Hmm. That does sound fair.” Eddie smirked. “But, I won’t do it. You upset my little Petey-Pie, and the only reason you’re still breathing is because Spidey Senpai would be mad at me.” He rubbed his cheek against Peter’s again. “And just as Baby Boy believes in fair play, he also believes in honesty. Don’t you Baby Boy?”

“We—well, it’s always important to try to be truthful,” Peter said. He couldn't tell anyone he was Spiderman—but he didn’t deny it either. Actually, he was more careful that it didn’t come up. He wasn’t sure if that counted as lying or not.

Deadpool heaved an exaggerated sigh. “There you go. If Spidey asked Petey-Pie if I killed someone, Petey would tell the truth. So you live. Now live somewhere I’m not tempted.” He took his gloved hand away from Peter’s shoulder and made shooing motion with it. Eddie growled—but left. Peter let out a low, slow breath and relaxed as Wade cuddled him close again. “I don’t know how to say this, but you need a bodyguard.”

Peter really wouldn't put it past Eddie to ambush him in an alley on the way home. While he could fight off the other reporter—he couldn't do it without telling people he was Spiderman. “True,” he said. He looked up at Wade’s chin. “Want to come shopping with me? I got paid today.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Did I mention already that I love this book? I love this book -Danny

Words: 6,084

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Happy’ -by Julia Michaels

Chapter Eleven: A Faulty Match.

"No way I'll be a teacher," Mel said anxiously. "I'm barely able to speak to more than five people at once!"

"You know that's not true, you're popular now!"

It had been two weeks after their talk in the common room and Hermione was ready to have a go at it for a second time. What was more surprising was the fact that Harry wasn't against it now. He'd finally come around and was behaving properly during Umbridge's lessons, which meant she was finally free to wander around school with her new friends without worrying all the time about what he was doing.

"Yeah, I doubt anyone except you two would want to be taught by us. We're nutters, remember?" Harry added.

"Speak for yourself," Mel protested.

Her time with Ginny and the twins was surprisingly effective when it came to building relationships with the rest of the houses, she knew a bunch of new people now, people that didn't think she was dramatic or impulsive. It was a nice change.

"Well, I think you might be surprised how many people would be interested in hearing what you've got to say," said Hermione. "Look, you know the first weekend in October's a Hogsmeade weekend? How would it be if we tell anyone who's interested to meet us in the village and we can talk it over?"

"Why do we have to do it outside school?" said Ron.

"Because I don't think Umbridge would be very happy if she found out what we were up to."

"So?" Ron looked at both of them with an eager expression. "You'll do it?"

Harry and Mel glanced at each other.

Were they ready for the teamwork that implied? Even if they hadn't argued for almost half a month, it still felt like too much, it was a very thin line they'd been walking those days trying not to push any buttons, but they were bound to falter, they just didn't how or when.

"I'll think about it," She sentenced. "I have tons to do... I mean, I can't teach a bunch of kids how to defend themselves if it's not my priority, I wanna make sure I don't mess up things."

"That's fine," Hermione smiled down at her paper as if Mel had agreed just then.

"So what d'you think?"

"Well, Hermione's idea isn't bad," Ginny shrugged. "You've gone through a lot, and you definitely know more than most, Mel."

"I don't know," She groaned. "I don't know if I want to spend that much time with..."

Ginny eyed her curiously.

"You and Harry are still fighting?"

"Have we ever not?" Mel smiled tiredly.

"Last year when you were all lovey in public..." Ginny replied. "I really thought you two were dating back then. Which is the reason why I gave Michael a chance."

"Hey!"

'Talking of the devil,' Mel thought, watching as Michael and his friends approached them.

"Hi," Ginny smiled at him. "What's up?"

Michal waved at Mel, the boys also greeted her, though they looked as if she were a unicorn.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Michael asked.

"Sure... er- I'll be right back, Mel."

"No worries..."

Mel watched her go with Michael, Anthony Goldstein was trying to tell her something but she wasn't listening, she was just nodding along, laughing when he did.

Only then she realized how lonely she was feeling. She'd been feeling lonely for months, but now she knew exactly what kind of company she was looking for. She wanted to date someone, to feel the same way she'd felt before, a part of her even wanted to try with a total stranger, a stranger meant she wouldn't get hurt.

Mel continued to nod and listen without paying attention as she busied herself, cleaning her bag while Anthony kept talking. A piece of parchment fell from a book and Mel picked it up, skimming through it. It was one of her mother's letters, but it looked old.

'..you should never base your actions on what other people expect you to do, Mel. Not even if that person is one of your closest friends. How do you expect to become your own whole witch if you keep following other people's tails?'

It was the letter the woman had sent her when Ron, Harry and her crashed the Ford Anglia, and she'd been right about everything, Mel needed to stop basing her actions on what others wanted.

What did she want, apart from dating someone of course...

A second piece of parchment fell to her lap and she looked down at it. It was the list she'd done during her second year:

1-I have to control my temper.

2-I have to focus in class.

3-I must listen to my family.

4-I must forget about my feelings for Harry.

Mel stared at it and something in her head clicked. She'd had her answer for years, only that she hadn't been brave enough to accept it.

Ginny came back with an easy-going smile on her face, Mel did her best to match it. The boys said goodbye and left.

"So?" Mel asked. "Do I sense a date?"

"Maybe," Ginny smiled. "I like him, but he can be a bit annoying."

"Aren't all boys like that?" Mel joked.

"Not all of them," Ginny gave her a look.

"I know who you're talking about when you say that," Mel looked away, the piece of parchment hidden inside her fist. "I assure you he's the same."

"He's not that boring, is he?"

"Listen, if you don't want to date Michael I'm sure he'll understand. You're more than welcome to try with Harry and see for yourself if that's what you want..." Cho walked past just then, surrounded by her usual jolly group of girlfriends. "...But something tells me he's busy at the moment."

Ginny looked at the Ravenclaw and let out a heavy sigh.

"So it's true then, he likes Cho?"

"Seems like it," She grabbed her mum's letter and her list and put it inside her bag. "Cho's been acting odd, looking for Harry during every free hour– Alone."

"Hmm," Ginny nodded in understanding. "I hope it works, would hate to see either of them suffer any more..."

Mel felt a sting of guilt at Ginny's comment. Of course she wanted Cho to recover, and of course she wanted Harry to be happy... but did they really have to be together for that? Couldn't they just do it on their own?

'You're one to talk, wishing you could snog your tension out with a stranger...' A voice in her head replied.

"Uh," Mel cleared her throat, embarrassed by her selfish ideas. "Yeah, you're right."

"Talking about people getting together," Ginny's eyes shifted into a more playful gaze. "You've been spending a lot of time with my brothers, haven't you?"

"The twins?" Mel laughed. "We're friends!"

"Are you sure?"

"Don't start..."

"Come on! I know you think they're attractive, you told me once!"

"I was twelve!" Mel chortled.

"Okay then, if you think it's so weird I won't tell you which one I overheard saying he thinks you're a looker now," Ginny crossed her arms and sat back casually, a knowing smirk on her face.

"What?! Don't you dare!"

"I don't tell you which one, you'll think about it!"

"Ginny!" Mel whined anxiously. "I don't want to hurt their feelings!"

"Wouldn't it be cool if you were part of the family for real?" She insisted. "My brothers are not that bad..."

"No," Mel sank further in her place. "They're bloody lovely. That's why I won't forgive myself if I hurt them."

"You're Mellow, you can't hurt anyone," Ginny snickered. "Just think about it..."

It was really sweet of Ginny to put a good word in for her brothers, but she didn't think it was the best idea. However, her old list was clear, she had to move on from Harry. If there was a chance that she could forget about him while still having fun with someone she trusted, well, maybe she could make it work.

"Mel, is it true that you're organizing a D.A.D.A class?"

"Well–"

"I heard you're organizing a meeting, can I go?"

"I mean–"

"Are you actually teaching us the same things Dumbledore's teaching you? Are you allowed?"

"Guys!" Ginny spoke up. "You got it all wrong! Granger and my brother are the ones organizing the whole thing, Mel doesn't know anything... but she's going to be there if that's enough for you?"

A new stream of questions hit her and Mel laughed. With each passing day, she found the attention less and less annoying, she wasn't as anxious as before, and could even spend more time around Harry without snapping at him.

She raised her hands to quiet everyone down and they obeyed, Mel was starting to love this kind of control too.

"Ginny's right, guys. If you're going to ask 'Mione, please be careful? We don't want the toad hearing our business, do we? I don't want to get my friends in trouble."

She left feeling pleased and energized. The group scattered and she looked back at Ginny with a smile.

"Not bad was it? You're improving..."

"I owe it to you," Mel winked. "I'm hungry, you coming?"

"I'm sitting with Michael," Her friend's smile widened.

"I'll leave you to it then... see you!"

As she walked through, several people asked her to join them; she said no, though. She was still a bit uneasy about spending too much time with strangers, it was draining.

When Mel spotted Hermione she made a beeline to sit with her, the group of friends was already in the middle of a conversation. It was normal now, arriving in the middle of something, not really knowing what was going on with them, but she concluded that her new popularity was definitely worth it.

"Well, you can't blame him for wanting to get out and about," She heard Ron say. "I mean, he's been on the run for over two years, hasn't he, and I know that can't have been a laugh, but at least he was free, wasn't he? And now he's just shut up all the time with that lunatic elf and Mel's mum."

"You say that like my mum's on the same level as Kreacher," Mel raised a brow.

"The trouble is," Hermione insisted, "until V-Voldemort — oh for heaven's sake, Ron — comes out into the open, Sirius is going to have to stay hidden, isn't he? I mean, the stupid Ministry isn't going to realize Sirius is innocent until they accept that Dumbledore's been telling the truth about him all along. And once the fools start catching real Death Eaters again it'll be obvious Sirius isn't one... I mean, he hasn't got the Mark, for one thing."

"I don't reckon he'd be stupid enough to turn up. Dumbledore'd go mad if he did and Sirius listens to Dumbledore even if he doesn't like what he hears."

"Don't we all?" Mel sighed.

An owl landed in front of her with the usual letter from her mother. It contained very vague things and coded names so Mel knew how everything was going. That morning the letter was surprisingly short, but she kept reading between the lines hoping to see something, anything.

"Still nothing..." She said grumpily.

"What d'you mean?"

"My mum! Been waiting for them to confirm they're together but they won't budge..."

"How're you so sure it'll happen?"

"Didn't I tell you? My mum talked to me the day we left the station, she was more than ready to give Snuffles a chance..."

"Blimey!" Ron's eyes widened. "Congrats to them, I s'posse..."

"I'm happy for them," Mel agreed, handing the letter to them so they could read it. "They've been alone for ages... I'm glad they've got each other now. Don't you agree, Harry?"

He didn't reply.

"Harry?"

The boy was looking at the letter as if it had one of Skeeter's articles on it. Mel called a third time and he looked up, but there was nothing close to real joy there. He smiled tightly and nodded once.

"Yeah, sounds great."

Mel frowned a bit, her smiled faltering.

"Is something bothering you?"

"Not at all," Harry avoided her gaze at all cost.

Hermione tried to lighten the mood.

"Listen, Ron and I have been sounding out people who we thought might want to learn some proper Defense Against the Dark Arts, and there are a couple who seem interested. We've told them to meet us in Hogsmeade."

"Right," said Harry quietly.

"Don't worry. You've got enough on your plate without Sirius too. You read that note they sent to Mel, I bet they must be quite happy."

"They surely are," Mel carefully folded the paper so she could show it to Erick later. "Talking about Hogsmeade– a bunch of kids have been attacking me with questions and I told them to ask you, hope you don't mind..."

"It's fine," Hermione smiled. "I'm happy you're friends with students from different houses– the more we can have in our side the better, right?"

"I think so," Mel was too excited to sit still. "I'm sort of looking forward to it now? They're nicer to me–"

"I wonder why," Ron snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh c'mon Mel," He laughed stupidly. "Half of the boys follow you around hoping you'll let them take you on a date... not that you're not nice and all! Don't hit me for being honest..."

Mel didn't try to refute his comment, far from it, this pleased her.

"I'm not going to hit you, Ron. I hope this works as a lesson to you, it is possible to be friends with other houses even if you don't agree in everything," She said happily.

"Sure is, if you're pretty," He replied.

Harry hid his face further, a clear redness on his cheeks. She fixed her posture and ate in content silence for the rest of the hour.

"Hey, Mel! Mel!" Fred ran up to her in the middle of the hall.

"What's up?"

"Is it true that you'll be having a meeting during our next Hogsmeade visit?"

"'Mione's the one organizing the whole thing–"

"That's all right," He pushed the comment aside. "I was wondering if you'd like to join us before the meeting. We'll go to Zonko's, buy a few things for our products... what do you say?"

"Sure," She exclaimed cheerily. "Should I wait for you at the entrance?"

"We can wait for you in the common room, don't worry," He smiled.

There was no double meaning to that smile, he was simply being him. But even knowing that, she still wanted to find out if she was right about him being the brother Ginny was trying to convince her to date.

Mel knew very well she was playing with fire, hadn't she learned anything? What about her dreadful experience with Harry? Dating friends was a mistake!

She was so lonely though...  for some reason, she kept thinking about her talk with Sirius. Could it be true? Merlin, she was hoping it was.

She wasn't stupid, she could tell that some of her new friends were being too nice to her, but Mel kept her distance, she'd promised not to flirt around just to get what she wanted, and she was keeping her promise. Besides, she was also following the list she'd found in her bag days prior, and it was working.

Harry was making things harder if she was honest, with his puppy eyes and his soft hair... It was obvious that he was miserable– He was traumatized! He just didn't want to admit it, he didn't want to ask for help. Harry still flinched with loud noises, it was pure torture, seeing him in distress and not being able to help.

It was so strange, a few months ago she would've run through the castle to save him from a bug bite, now she would listen to his complaints and his yelling and immediately turn her back. She was sick of feeling.

Part of her kept thinking of the way Harry had broken her heart, but that wasn't it now, it was something else that she couldn't quite understand. Resentment... but towards what?

Was she mad about him being scared? Did she hate the fact that he wanted to protect her?

Did she hate that he didn't trust her to be strong enough? After all those years, and he still thought that she needed to be saved... As if she were nothing but a helpless sidekick.

'I'm not just a pretty face,' she thought bitterly.

No.

She was a pretty face, and she was popular because of that. But she was also a skilled witch and a great friend. She was the reason why Harry Potter was still alive.

It was time to be more than just a boy's best friend. She was ready to step into the spotlight, it didn't matter if she had to leave Harry behind.

She was walking alongside the twins and Lee Jordan, carrying a few bags of Zonko's and chatting cheerfully when someone called her name. Ginny appeared, followed by some Ravenclaws (including Ginny's boyfriend).

Mel was telling stories about her childhood, the group was laughing a lot. Life had improved, she'd taken Erick's advice and she was finally feeling like she belonged.

"This is it, right?" Terry Boot asked her.

Mel looked up at the sign and frowned.

"Here?"

"Hermione said this would be discrete," Ginny shrugged.

"A bunch of teenagers entering the sketchy bar?" Mel snorted. "Not suspicious at all..."

"Wait for us!"

Mel turned around and saw a bunch of students coming their way, her stomach did an odd flip: At least twenty or thirty people had come to the meeting.

"This isn't subtle at all," She said anxiously. "People will notice, they'll follow us in!"

"Er..." Ginny was looking at the bunch reluctantly, but Michael grabbed her hand and dragged her inside the pub at once.

Fred and George did the same with her and soon the group of students entered together. She was already breaking down, but what made her really want to retreat and forget she was ever there was the sight of a tall old man gazing at the bunch with a slightly startled expression.

It was her grandfather.

She tried to leave but Fred put an arm around her shoulders and walked up to the barman.

"Hi," He smiled. "Could we have... twenty-six butterbeers, please?"

Aberforth Dumbledore stared at her and then at the group, he threw aside the rag he'd been holding and then started passing up dusty butterbeer pretending he didn't recognize her. Or perhaps he really did not know who she was, they'd never seen each other in person.

Was she supposed to say something? Maybe 'Hey, you don't know me but your son was my dad! I know you want nothing to do with me, but maybe don't tell my uncle what we're doing? Thanks, Grandad!'

"Cheers!" Fred handed out the butterbeers to the rest. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these..."

They handed the money to her and Fred, she pushed it roughly on the counter mumbling a 'Thanks' without making eye contact. Mel spotted Harry, Hermione and Ron at the very back and walked up to them, ready to kill Hermione.

"What were you thinking?" She hissed. "This looks suspicious in so many ways!"

"We'll be fine, here is less likely we get unwanted attention–"

"Oh, really?" Mel propped one hand on the table and whispered in a furious voice, "D'you know who the barman is?"

"Well, he's always been the barman here for all I know, so–"

"He's my grandad!"

The girl's eyes widened almost comically, Mel sat down next to Ron, her good mood vanishing completely.

"What have you been telling people? What are they expecting?" Harry asked anxiously.

"I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got to say. You don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first," Hermione replied, a bit anxious now that she knew her mistake.

"Well that isn't soothing either," Mel grumbled, giving a large sip to her butterbeer.

"Hi, guys," Neville waved at them, one by one the students sat down around the table and waited patiently for them to speak.

"Er," said Hermione. "Well — er — hi."

Mel snorted and Ron kicked her leg under the table.

"Well... erm... well, you know why you're here. Erm... well, Harry here had the idea — I mean I had the idea — that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us — because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein.

"Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands. And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells —"

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" said Michael Corner.

"Of course I do, but I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because... because... Because Lord Voldemort's back."

The group let out their shock in different levels of surprise, some didn't look faced, merely annoyed at the mention, but once they were done they all focused on Harry and her.

"Well... that's the plan anyway," Hermione continued. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to —"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said a Hufflepuff student.

Mel tilted her head, half amusement and half exasperation.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it —" Hermione began.

"You mean, the Dumbledores believe him," He nodded shortly at the boy. "Everyone knows Mel's crazy about Harry, and Dumbledore–"

"Who are you?" Ron interrupted with a tone of warning.

"Zacharias Smith– and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Oh, you think you've got the right?" Mel leaned forward but Ron pulled her back.

"Look," said Hermione. "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about —"

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry said lowly, then he directed his attention to the boy. "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back? I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me or Mel, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Mel tried hard not to look in the direction of her grandad, she had to at least pretend she didn't know him so she could deny the encounter in case Dumbledore found out, but she could see him clearly paying attention to their meeting.

"All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know —"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you. I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

She had to admit that Harry was doing a great job, this time she thought it was appropriate to be a bit rough with his answers, after all, this guy didn't have any right to demand stuff. She wondered if someone had approached Harry this way during the weeks she'd spent away from the group. How weird it was, being so foreign to Harry's experiences.

"So... so... like I was saying... if you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to —" Hermione got interrupted again.

"Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?" Susan Bones asked.

"Yeah," said Harry, then added hurriedly as if that way he wouldn't get all the stares. "Mel too."

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" Harry asked.

Mel rolled her eyes, of course Harry didn't know his own classmates by name.

"She's my auntie," Susan said happily. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"What about you, Mel?" Terry inquired.

"Mine's a phoenix," She said shortly.

The barman stopped cleaning at that.

"Blimey, guys!" said Lee. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry, causing a few to laugh.

"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" Terry Boot asked eagerly. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year..."

"Er — yeah, I did, yeah," Harry glanced at her, but Mel wasn't going to speak. All those questions were directed to him only.

"And in our first year," said Neville, sounding like he couldn't quite believe it yet, "he saved that Sorcerous Stone —"

"Sorcerer's," Hermione corrected.

"Yes, that, from You-Know-Who, and Mel," Neville laughed timidly. "Mel threw Professor Quirrell to the other end of the room without a wand."

"How d'you know–?" Mel started, but Cho interrupted.

"And that's not to mention all the tasks Harry had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things..."

Mel looked at the way Cho was smiling and the eager look on the boy's eyes. The girl tried –and failed– to ignore the fact that she could recognize it like the one he'd given her a year prior after almost kissing him.

"Look– I... I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but... I had a lot of help with all that stuff..."

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying..."

"Yeah, well —" said Harry, brushing it away like a very annoying fly.

"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer," said Susan.

"No... no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is —"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias.

"Here's an idea," said Ron, this time it was him the one who leaned further, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," Zacharias said, but his voice came out a bit quieter.

"That's not what he said," Fred frowned.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" George pulled a long and weird looking metal thingy from one of his bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.

"Knock it off," Mel stopped them. "We're not here to fight."

The boys gave her a grumpy look but put the instruments away.

"Yes, well," Hermione cleared her throat, "moving on... the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry and Mel?" There was a buzz of agreement to which Hermione nodded once. "Right. Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week —"

"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours," added Zacharias.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone, but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters —"

"Well said! Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!" Ernie exclaimed eagerly. "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells —"

"Is not that she's useless," Mel spoke. "She knows Dark Magic well enough to defend herself against it, I'm sure of it. She just doesn't want us to know because she thinks we're planning on murdering the Minister." Some laughed, others stared at her in shock.

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, nodding at Mel's words. "is that she's got some... some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

"Well, that makes sense," Luna mentioned. "After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" said Harry.

"Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths."

"No, he hasn't," Hermione retorted.

"Yes, he has."

"What are heliopaths?" asked Neville.

"They're spirits of fire. Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —"

"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione.

"Oh yes, they do!"

"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?"

"There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —"

"Thank you, Luna," Mel said. "I think we should go back to the important subjects of this meeting."

"Hem, hem," Ginny cleared her throat like Umbridge with a horrifying accuracy. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?"

"Yes. Yes, we were, you're right..." Hermione sighed.

"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.

"As long as —" began Angelina.

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch. Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet..."

"Library?" suggested Katie Bell.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," said Harry, then added in a low voice so only Mel could hear. "But it sure is a good place for secret meetings..."

She knew he was talking about Erick, but her mind went to the afternoons spent there with Harry.

"Maybe an unused classroom?" said Dean.

"Yeah, McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practising for the Triwizard..." Ron mentioned.

"McGonagall asked us to keep a low profile," Mel raised a brow. "What part of 'secret study group against Umbridge' sounds innocent to you?"

"The study part," Her friend replied with a smirk.

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," Hermione shrugged. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting." She then searched in her bag and pulled parchment and a quill. "I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge — or anybody else — what we're up to."

"'Mione–" Mel started, but Fred took the parchment and signed, then winked at her. George followed suit. "All right then..."

"Er..." Zacharias looked at the paper reluctantly. "Well... I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."

"I — well, we are prefects," Ernie let out anxiously. "And if this list was found... well, I mean to say... you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out..."

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry reminded him.

"I — yes," said Ernie, "yes, I do believe that it's just..."

"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?" said Hermione.

"No. No, of course not... I — yes, of course, I'll sign."

The parchment moved around until it came back to Zacharias.

"What's the matter, Smith?" Mel smirked. "You're not trying to weasel out, are you?"

He looked at her with indignation, let out a scoff and took the parchment, signing down his name.

"Well, time's ticking on," Fred stood up. "George, Lee, and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later. Coming, Lady?"

"Er..." Mel looked around and found Cho staring eagerly at Harry. She shook her head. "No, I think I'll spend the rest of the day with 'Mione and the boys, thanks."

"Well, I think that went quite well," said Hermione once they walked out of the Hog's Head. Mel had glanced back at the old man once before leaving, unable to say a thing.

"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," grumbled Ron.

"Sure is," Mel scowled. "What an idiot, thinking we owe him an explanation..."

"I don't like him much either," Hermione nodded, "but he overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say? But the more people the better really — I mean, Michael Corner and his friends wouldn't have come if his friends weren't all crazy about Mel and he hadn't been going out with Ginny —"

Mel let out a short squeak and Ron choked on the last bit of butterbeer he'd been drinking.

"He's WHAT?" Ron yelled. "She's going out with — my sister's going — what d'you mean, Michael Corner?"

"Well, that's why he and his friends came, I think —" Hermione shrugged. "Well, they're obviously interested in learning defence, but if Ginny hadn't told Michael what was going on, and his friends weren't trying to win Mel over —"

"That's ridiculous!" Mel blushed madly. "I– They–"

"When did this — when did she — ?" Ron stuttered as well.

"They met at the Yule Ball and they got together at the end of last year," said Hermione, guiding them to the entrance of a shop. "Hmm... I could do with a new quill."

"Which one was Michael Corner?" Ron demanded.

"The dark one," said Hermione.

"I didn't like him," said Ron at once.

Mel came out of her trance, giving Ron an amused look.

"You've never spoken to him!"

"Big surprise," Hermione whispered.

"But– I thought Ginny fancied Harry!"

Hermione looked at Mel for a moment before responding.

"Ginny used to fancy Harry, but she gave up on him months ago... when we thought... well... Not that she doesn't like you, of course," Hermione added towards Harry.

Harry merely shrugged, his eyes wondering outside the window, probably looking for a certain raven-haired girl.

"So that's why she talks now? She never used to talk in front of me..."

"Exactly," Hermione glanced at Mel once more. "Yeah, she's not as nervous as before... I think she really is over it... Yes, I think I'll have this one..."

Mel felt a bit jealous of Ginny, she was capable of moving on just like that and find a good boy. Not that she didn't deserve it, Ginny was awfully pretty and she was fun to hang out with, she deserved to date and have fun! She wanted to have that, but if it meant she had to date someone as silly as Anthony Goldstein, she wasn't sure she'd be moving on any time soon.

Her mind wondered once again to Harry, she wanted to know what his opinion was on this whole thing because he was being really confusing. On a good day, she could still see a type of softness on his gaze when talking to her, but more often than not he would be grumpy and serious, not even trying to be nice. She just wanted to know what he was thinking, was that really so hard?

"Ron," Hermione's voice escalated. "This is exactly why Ginny hasn't told you she's seeing Michael, she knew you'd take it badly. So don't harp on about it, for heaven's sake."

"What d'you mean, who's taking anything badly? I'm not going to harp on about anything..."

But he remained pouty and serious for the rest of the day.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @sarcasticallywitty15

[andromeda612]

The writer vs the liar

So, remember the prompt from a few days ago? You can chek it here

Well, I made a draft for what would be the whole fic, I'm gonna start it soon and will post it in Ao3, I would make a post when is ready and with every update, if you are interested make me know, so I can tag you.

I apologize for any mistake, english is not my first language, I hope you like it!

After Mari is expelled Nathaniel and Alix are worried and confused, because there is no way Marinette did those things (Alix defended Marinette in Reverser and I like to think that Nathaniel learned his lesson, so they are less likely to believe that Marinette would do anything of what Lila said) but all the mess is confusing. They talk but can't get a good answer. They decide to relax a little in the art club, they can't.

Marc noticing their mood ask what's wrong. So they tell him, and Marc is fast to point out all the wrong things with the whole situation. The "evidence" is circumstancial, superficial and easily planted, Damocles should have called Lila's parents too, no just Marinette's, Lila should had at least some bruises but there is no one, the protocole says that they needed to make an investigation, Mari has the right to prove her innocence, but Damocles just expelled her then and there. So yeah, the school messed up, because that failure in protocole and lack of professionalism can be addressed as neglect.

Thinking a little more they come to the conclusion that Marinette had been framed, but by who and why? If you think about it the only suspect is Lila, after all she was in the middle of the fire, but why would she did that? Marc asks for more background about this girl, because he only knows her because he had seen her sometimes in school and because Rose mentioned her once or twice, Nathaniel nor Alix have ever talked about her, Marinette either (and that interview on the Ladyblog is not that famous, so he missed it)

Alix explains the drama between those two, the seats thing (Marc tells them that it was wrong to move Mari to the back without asking her, maybe Nathaniel never had problem with being alone but he is not Marinette, they admit it was thoughtless from them and make a note to apologize later) and Marinette claming that Lila is a liar.

That catches Marc's atention, he knows Marinette, for him she is like a sister in everything but blood, after all she was the first person who was nice to him in school and despite not knowing in the time being that he has social anxiety she always was patient and kind with him until he was comfortable enough talking to her. Misunderstanding aside, she was the one who introduced him to Nathaniel and the rest of her friends from the art club, and they introduced him with the rest of their friends. Now he has two best friends (Mari and Alix) is dating his other bff (Nathaniel) has other good friends and is working in what he loves with his partner, all thanks to Marinette, so is no wonder that the two of them grew closer.

He knows that Mari hates liars, so if she thinks that this girl is a liar she must has a very good reason. Then Alix says that it just her being jealous because of Adrien. And yes, that may be true, Marinette tends to get jealous of any rival for the boy's affection, and can do crazy and, honestly, pretty bad stuff for him but again, he knows her and knows that at the end Marinette always admits her wrongdoings, apologizes and does better. He also knows that jealousy for itself is not a strong motive for dislike someone that much, because Chloe? is a brat, Kagami? He knows that Marinette actually helped Adrien in a date with her and now both girls are very good friends despite her knowing that Adrien actually is interested in Kagami, so if this Lila is really that good of a person then why Marinette seems to dislike her and think that is a liar? She has to has a reason.

When he says this Alix and Nathaniel have the decency of look ashamed, Marc is right, they (Alix and the girls the most) should have asked for her reasons instead of brush it off as simply jealousy, Marinette is better than that.

With his point clear, Marc asks for more details, maybe they can discover why Marinette thinks Lila is a liar. Again is Alix who talks (Nathaniel never had been one of Lila's admirers and he pays not much attention to the drama) and tells every story Lila told them (I'm not including the napkin incident because either Nathaniel nor Alix were there, Nathaniel was alone in another table and Alix wasn't in the cafeteria at all) and once she is done Marc is fast to point every single hole, contradiction and nonsense in Lila's claims.

Being a writer and a very active reader makes this kind of thing easy for him, it also helps that some of Lila's claims can be debunked with a little knowledge (arthritis doesn't work like that for example) and him has plenty of that, he likes to read about different topics, not just stories and comics, also is the fact that he makes lots of researching for his stories (the comic is not the only thing he writes for) even if they are about fantasy he likes them to be coherent and solid, so if he is going to use some topic he research to support his writing, so yeah he knows a little of many things. He also points out all the times Lila manipulated them so they did things for her, and how.

Now they know the truth, Lila IS a liar and a manipulative one.

HOLY SHIT MARINETTE WAS RIGHT! First they feel bad, they should have listened to her! They are also ashamed because now that they think about it most of the lies are dumb! They are idiots!

Marc is fast to comfort them, after all some of her lies are believable at least from their point of view, their class is not a normal one they have some famous people like Adrien a famous model, Chloe the mayor's daughter, Nathaniel is the ilustrator of one of the most popular comics in Paris, Marinette is Jagged Stone's favorite designer and has been prized by Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgois, Max is a genius with his own AI, there is Kitty Section and the list goes. So, one more student with conections and awesome claims is not that difficult to believe. Also, they are being manipulated, Lila use pity to make herself look vulnerable and fragil, so they would not question her or her claims, she also takes advantage of their kindness. Being fooled and manipulated is not a crime, they are victims too.

That make them feel better, but now they are pissed, because THEY ARE BEING FOOLED, MANIPULATED AND TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF! AND MARINETTE IS EXPELLED AND ALL IS THAT WITCH FAULT!

Marc is pissed too, being the patient and quiet person he is there are just a few things that makes him trully angry, but messing with his loved ones is the top of that list, and that little bitch is messing with all of his friends and his boyfriend! She is not just liying, manipulating and using them, she also gives them false hope with all the false promises she made, they are gonna be hurt once she fails in fulfil them. And MARINETTE IS EXPELLED so yeah, that brat crossed many lines.

For now they decide to talk to Marinette, Alix and Nathaniel need to apologize, and to make her know that the three of them know the truth and are by her side.

Later they discover that Marinette's expulsion is revoked, aparently all was a huge misunderstanding and Lila herself clarified the mess. Yeah, something is off here and they are not going to let their guard down, but at least Mari's name is clean.

The next day they are in the bakery with Marinette's favorite ice cream and two draws made by Alix and Nath, a -forgive-us-for-not-listened-you-and-for-being-bad-friends- gift. Marinette is relieved and actually cries of joy for having her friends by her side and free from Lila's claws, and of course she forgive them, after all they admitted their errors and apologized, also despite the evidence against her they gave her the benefit of the doubt, and for that she is grateful.

They talk and Marinette tells them how she found out the truth the same she told Alya and Nino (Marc tells her that it was not ok to follow Adrien and Lila but unlike them he still listened to her side of the story) she also point out that she ACTUALLY KNOWS Jagged Stone.

But hey! That doesn't mean that Adrien also knows the truth?

Yeah, she also tells them that Adrien is aware of Lila's true nature and also talks about the 'high road' advice. "HE TOLD YOU WHAT?"

But before any of them could get angry with Adrien she explains that he really thought her lies were harmless, also he believed that expose her would be bad because he called her out in a friendly way and still she was akumatized, but now that she was expelled he recognized that his advice was a bad one and that her lies can hurt people, he already apologized to her, and explained that he made a deal with Lila, he will be her friend and she will be a model and in return she will bring Mari back to school. He also admited that the best is to expose her, becasue netiher of them actually believe that Lila is going to let Marinette alone.

That makes them calm down, and forgive Adrien, he apologized to Marinette too and admited his error, also they think that a deal with the devil is punishment enough, and if they think about it, probably the poor boy didn't knew better, but he does now, so it's ok.

Then they learn about the threat in the bathroom and her almost akumatization. And they are even more pissed HOW DARE SHE? They apologize again for making her believe that she couldn't trust them with that. She says is ok, that she didn't take her too seriously, and she has faith in them, and so far they proved her right. Though, Marc wish that she could have talked to him at least, maybe they would have prevented all of this, but it doesn't matter.

Well, now they have one thing clear: they need to take that bitch down. But how? Lila could lie her way out, or twist the situation in her favor, they are trying to come up with a plan, but Marc is quiet, his mind working and then he has an idea.

With a calm and cool tone he says them "Just help me with some research, I'll take care of the rest" and replacing his usual sweet and shy demeanor there is a smirk and a cold determination and confidence in his face that surprise them (Nath actually finds it kind of hot)

They don't know what is he thinking, but they have seen him angry before (and thank god they have never been the cause of it, because Marc is a cinnamon roll but is very scary when is angry) and they know what his wrath is capable of. Whatever his plan is, they know is gonna work and dammit if it doesn't. They almost feel bad for Lila. Almost.

The next days they spend time together doing the investigation (they have some fun time and an awesome sleepover too), and finally they get solid proof to expose Lila, thanks to Marinette they get a video interview with Jagged Stone where the singer claims that he never had met Lila, and thanks to Marc's general knowledge in health and some help from Nathaniel's parents who both are doctors, they also get proof to debunk Lila's claims of illnes or other disabilities (specially the lying disease bullshit) and since Marc is a good researcher they manage to find some interesting stuff, like Mrs. Rossi contact information, is all in the embassy page.

With the investigation done, all what they need to do is wait for the perfect moment to expose the liar, and the oportunity comes two weeks later in the form of a picnic that Bustier's class organize just to hang out together, naturally Marc is invited and helps to organize said picnic, almost all of the class consider him a friend and one of them despite him being in Mendeleiev's class. Mari, Alix and Nathaniel still don't know what is his plan exactly, but they trust him. Adrien is aware of his plan but he doesn't know what exactly is either.

So here they are, in the park, in a cute blanket, with some delicious food and with great company (that doesn't include certain people, aka Chloe and the liar) and of course Lila is charming their friends with other of her lies, it takes all of their willpower to not roll their eyes. And then, listening carefully Marc takes the perfect moment to interrumpt the tale, social anxiety or not, that witch is hurting his beloved ones and he is not going to tolerate it, so even if he never has talked to her, fuck his shyness, that girl is gonna face the consequences for her actions. (It also helps that he is already friends with the rest of his boyfriend's class)

So, to everyone suprise he interrumpts Lila in middle sentence to point out the holes in what she is saying.

Alix, Nathaniel, Marinette and Adrien froze in panic, what is he thinking?! A direct confrontation was a bad idea, wasn't it? Marc locked eyes with the four of them and give a look thay says 'I get this' so they let him be, but now they are really uneasy.

What they didn't know is that the last days until now Marc has been doing more than just research, he was studying his enemy. Marc is a good listener, and being someone who likes to go unnoticed he became a very good observant too, he can notice little details and patterns, also he is a sensible and sympathetic boy so is easy for him to put himself in other's shoes, that combined makes him very good at reading and analysing people. He also made extra research in psychology and behaivor. So now, he knows how Lila works, he knows what to expect and how to answer. It also helps that he is very good with words, not just the ones he writes for his stories, but the ones he says and also he is very good with other's people words, he knows how to use them. That is his plan, he is going to use all his skills and knowledge to trap Lila, she thinks that she is smart and can control the situation, but Marc is going to prove that she can and will lose in her own game. Her lies are gonna be her downfall.

Lila of course tries to make an excuse or another lie to save face, but Marc refutes her again and again, and the rest of the class? Some are confused and others seems thoughtful shit! She is losing control! She tries but this black haired boy seems to be smart, he gets her cornered until the point that she can't lie her way out, and her classmates are starting to look suspicious. She tries to change tactics, the tears worked against Marinette, they will work now. She hides her face in her hands and starts to sob.

"I just was trying to share some of my wonderful experiencies with my friends, so I could give them some advice to help them in the future. Why are you being so mean? I haven't done anything to you! " That make people like Rose or Mylene to softened and go to comfort her, and between her hands she can see Alya ready to confront the boy, but Marc is ready for this kind of tactic, is his turn to make a move.

"I'm sorry but, How does this make me mean? I just pointed some facts because honestly, I'm a bit confused. At first I thought that you just made a little mistake, but then you just said another nonsense! Why would YOU do that?"

And then she is losing the little control she manage to regain. Because no matter how much they want to comfort her, Marc has a point and what he said so far actually makes sense, at least more sense than what she said. The others start to look torn between comfort or question her.

"Well... how would you know that what I said is wrong? Where is your proof?" Lila crosses her arms and look to other side, just to hide the smirk in her face, that would be enough and that annoying nobody will learn to not get in her way.

But, much to her surprise Marc actually has a good answer to that.

"Uh... comon sense? I mean, If I'm being a little honest if you think about it, some of the things you said have no... logic. Also I like to read a lot and about different things, including what you were saying so I know for a fact that some of the things you said are wrong. And my proof? Well a quick search in google is enough to prove me right"

Lila pales, she was not expecting that answer, and to her utter horror she can see some of her classmates typing in their phones, probably fact checking for once, she need to fix this now! She looks around trying to find some sympathy or something that would help, but she only see her classmates reading something in their phones and some of them are starting to frown, then she looks to Marinette and has an idea, this would break her little deal with Adrien but is ok, she wasn't planning to leave the brat alone anyway and her model career is in his father's hands, and she already has him tied around her finger.

So, before anyone could say something she sobs more louder and points a finger to Marinette.

"This is because of Marinette, isn't it? She put you into this! I-" but she couldn't finish because Marc interrumpts her, he also is ready for Lila trying to blame Marinette and he is not having it!

"And what does she has to do with this? Is not her fault that you have your facts wrong" and now the others are starting to narrow their eyes towards her, Damn it! Well she made the baker a threat, is time to fulfil it.

Lila makes the best she can to look pityful and scared. "Well... I didn't want to say this because I thought that nobody would believe me but... Marinette threatened me in the bathroom the day I came back from Achu!" She cries to everybody's shock.

"WHAT?!" Everybody screamed that. Marinette and her we-know-the-truth squad are frozen and can't believed it, THE NERVE OF THIS GIRL!

The rest to their friends are equally stunned, because they just can't believe what Lila said.

Lila using the shock continues with her sob story.

"She cornered me in the bathroom and told me that she would turn all of you against me! And all because she is jealous! And now she is using this boy to make you think that I'm a liar, just like she said!" Lila hug herself in an attempt to look small and is crying full force now.

Marc has to use all his willpower to not scream and call her a hypocrite, but he has a perfect answer for that too.

"Marinette would NEVER do that!" And to Lila's surprise and Marinette's glee is not Marc who says that, is Alya.

"Marinette is the sweetest girl, and she is not a bully!" That was Rose, who walked away from Lila like she burned her. And the rest of the class make their agreement known.

Lila really did NOT expect THAT reaction! They are supose to be comforting her and screaming to Marinette, not defending her! It's ok she can fix it.

"See? Is this why I didn't want to say anything! You don't believe me!"

Marc takes the word again "We know Marinette, we know she has flaws but she is one of the best people we know" again everybody agrees with that.

Lila is getting desperate, this is not what is supose to happen! And where is an akuma when you need it?! But Lila refuses to lose!

"Look I know you all thougth that you knew her and that she was your friend, but the truth is that Marinette is not what she seems to be, she is a manipulative liar and is just using you!"

Again, is not Marc who talks, this time is Kim

"No, you look Lila, I have known Marinette since diapers, and I know she has flaws but she is NOT a bad person"

"Yeah, and using us? She is the one who goes out of her way just to help us! She is a caring friend! Heck! We actually had to convince her that it's ok to pay to her everytime we comission something from her!" That was Nino

"And still, she gives us discounts everytime she can, but jus for the record, we have no problem in paying the whole price, Marinette, your job is awesome and you deserve to be fairly rewarded" that was Ivan, and Marinette gives him a very grateful smile, the rest of her friends agree with him and she smiles to them too.

"But-but" Lila is in trouble, she tries to think fast, but then Max just dig her hole deeper.

"Also, what Marc just said about your story is also true, all the wrong facts and holes, I asked Markov to fact check and the evidence supports Marc, the only conclusion is that you were lying to us!"

Nonononononono NO!

"And since you told us this lie like you did with any other of your stories I wondered What else was a lie? I also asked Markov to confirm every thing that you had said to us, and nearly the 86.65% was a lie"

Marc smiles, the game is going exactly according to his plan, even some of his moves were made by others, he is happy that Marinette has friends with such a faith in her, ready to stand up for her just like she does for them. But he knows that the game is still on, Lila still has some pieces, but Marc already steal her big ones, she just has some pawns to defend her King and Marc has his army intact.

Well fuck, she is doomed, the rest of the class looks ready to attack her... and then she remember her last card, it's a wild card, her lies will not work the same way anymore but she could save face, she will, eventually, come up with something to regain her control.

Well it seems that there is a limit, so I make a part 2

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part V

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 1,271

Note: I get really inspired by songs and I use some lyrics. This is the end of S1. :)

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8

You were outside the Sept of Baelor. Joffrey was so unpredictable you didn’t know what to expect. You wished Lord Eddard spoke the right words. Meanwhile, you told Sansa everything’s gonna be fine, that your older brother was going to spare his life and send him to the Night’s Watch. You wanted to believe that he was going to be merciful, that he held a bit of affection for his lady.

You haven’t had the time to grieve your father. Your mind was troubled, with the Lord of Winterfell confessing you that your three siblings were bastards. Worst of all, your uncle’s bastards. Your mother and he have had an incestuous relationship for only the gods know how long, it disgusted you. Though you don’t choose who to love. More so that she lied and outwitted your father for so many years. He was a horrible husband, no doubt. He had a lot of bastards too. This was entirely different. It was too much.

Now you were standing next to her and Lady Sansa. She was calm at first, certain her father would walk out alive. He was telling the truth all along. Uncle Stannis is the heir to the Iron Throne. Being born a woman made you third in line, you never really believed you would sit on that awful chair, your claim was stronger than Joffrey’s. You haven’t found Arya, that concerned you as well. You felt uneasy though you tried to remain relaxed.

“I come here to confess my treason. I broke the faith of my king and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect his children but before his blood turned cold I plotted to murder his son. And seize the throne from myself.” Someone threw a rock to his head.

“Let the Hight Septon and Baelor the blessed be witness of what I say. That Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir of the Iron Throne by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” The blonde boy had a pleasing smile.

“The gods are just. But our beloved Baelor taught us that they also can be merciful. What is to be done with this traitor, your grace?” The old Maester asked. The people kept yelling things at him.

“My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Night’s Watch. Strip him of all titles and powers, he will serve the Realm in permanent exile. And my lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father.” She hopefully smiled at him. “My sister, Princess Y/N, has also pleaded mercy for him. But they have the soft hearts of women.” Your heart began to race. “So as long as I am king treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head.”

“No! Please, please stop it!” Sansa cried.

“My son, this is madness.” Cersei said.

“Brother, don’t, please.” You begged but he didn’t listen to neither of you. A guard held Sansa while you swallowed and heard the screams of the common folk. “There’s no going back if you do this.” You insisted nudging his arm, he swiftly snatched back.

“Please no, no! Stop it!” She kept pleading. The Hound had to grab you. Ser Ilyn pull out the sword. You closed your eyes hearing the sound of his head hitting the ground. When you opened them Sansa passed out. The guard let her fall to the floor and Sandor let go of you. You kneeled and muttered “I’m sorry” before shouting for someone to lift her and get her to her room.

The following days were tense. The eldest Stark daughter didn’t speak to you, she was still in shock.

“Where is he?” You asked your lady mother when you didn’t see your oldest brother.

“He went to show your pathetic friend a surprise.” You ran to the spot and heard his irritating voice. They were staring at the pikes, well Joffrey was forcing her to. Ser Meryn was ready to strike her.

“Hey!” You stood in front of Sansa to avoid his rough hand impact her cheek, hitting yours instead.

“I’m sorry, princess. You got in the way.” You peered at Joffrey with anger filling your eyes.

“I told you a hundred times not to get involve when is not of your concern!”

“I don’t care. As long as I’m around I won’t let you strike her. Are you crazy? Her father was just killed and you make her look at his head rotting in that spike? That’s inhuman. You won’t lie a finger on her.”

“Are you threatening me? I am the King now, you can’t threaten me! Ser Meryn already did me the favor. But I won’t think it twice when you meddle with me, even if you are my sister.” And he passed beside you snorting. “See you in court.”

“Here, princess.” The hound handed you his handkerchief. You nodded in gratitude.

“My Princess... I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have defended me. Look what he did to your face.” You cleaned the blood with the dirty tissue.

“It doesn’t matter. I would do it again. He can’t treat you like that. Enough he has done already. I would take any beating for you, my lady.”

“You are very brave. But this is wrong, you are his family. He is a monster.”

“He is.” She lifted her glance to stare at her father’s and her Septa’s. “You don’t have to look anymore. I will protect you, I swear it.” She buried her head into your chest, sobbing until she grew weary of it. You escorted her to her chambers and went to your own. You avoided your mother. You missed your siblings, but you wouldn’t let them see you wounded. Tommen entered your room, so it was too late.

“What happened, Y/N?” Tommen asked worriedly.

“I fell while sparring and hit myself with a- a rock.” You lied. He shook his head.

“Joffrey did this. I may be ten but I know things, you are my sister, I won’t let him abuse of his power as King! You should be Queen, you are kind to everyone.”

“It’s alright, little lion. You would be a fantastic King as well. You are already my knight in shining armor.” You kissed his forehead.

In the next few weeks you mourned your father. You found comfort in the northerner, she was there when you needed her the most.

“You are the only person I can trust. Without you I’d be lost with all these strange people.” She confessed.

“If I could I would take you back to Winterfell. The future is unclear, but I pray for you family to return home.”

“Thank you, pri-“

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” She corrected.

“I’m your friend, I’ll always be your friend. Make your limits be unknown. If you ever feel you can’t take it anymore, don’t break character.” You decided to change the subject. “So tell me, what is your favorite dessert?”

“Lemon cakes. I love them.” Her eyes lighted up.

“I’ll ask the cooks to make the most delicious lemon cakes Westeros has ever tasted.”

“You are the best.” Sansa smiled and you thanked the gods for sending to the world such a beautiful woman.

These months were getting better, at least the King wasn’t cruel to the redhead, rude, yes, luckily you seemed to be in the right place every time he tried to cross the line. You also spent more time with your younger siblings. Last words Ned Stark told you still rang in your mind and haunt you in your dreams.

[shirtlesssammy]

9x17: Mother's Little Helper

Welcome to the other side and welcome to the Misha-directed episode! Yay! 

Then:

Crowley’s got what Dean wants

Now:

A woman comes home to an ungrateful husband asking what’s for dinner. He then complains when she tells him it’s meatloaf. She then complains back with a candlestick and a severe beating. Ngl, I was rooting for the wife there. 

Sam invites an overstressed Dean to help with the case. Dean wants to stay and search for anything on Abaddon. 

Sam heads out alone. He gets to the sheriff’s office and starts with the routine questions. The sheriff really didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Also, they find the wife has hung herself in jail. There’s bloody writing all over the jail cell walls. 

Sam checks in with Dean. He’s not very chatty. He’s also reliving a highlight reel of the Mark in his mind. 

A young man accepts a ride from a passing van. 

The kid knows the driver though, so it’s all good. Well, until the van lights up and we hear screams. 

The kid, Bill, later wanders into a diner that Sam’s enjoying dinner at, and starts devouring leftover food on the counter. Billy snaps at the waitress, and Sam defends her. He then knocks over a glass, and stabs the poor waitress through the hand. Sam knocks him out. 

The boy ends up in the jail, where there are plenty of other normal people, enjoying a little downtime. 

Sam splashes holy water on Billy, and asks what he is. “Clear,” he responds. “Of everything.” 

Sam calls Dean and during their conversation, realizes the people in this town are acting like he did when he was soulless (well, Sam, not quite. You didn’t randomly kill people that pissed you off. Note to future me: Write a comparison post about how Sam at his core is different from others without a soul.) Sam asks for Dean help, but Dean’s got to keep researching. 

Dean ends their call and Crowley pops up to say hi. 

Sm hears a woman arguing with the local law enforcement about demons. (I love that Jenny O’Hara is in Supernatural. She’s in EVERYTHING so I guess it only makes sense.) Sam sits down to talk with Julia, and learns more about her experience with demons. 

She’s confused why he’s willing to listen. He tells her that he’s more open minded than most. She guesses that he’s a Men of Letters. They came to her town in 1958. 

Flashback Alert

Julia, a nun in 1958, answers the door of her convent. Henry Winchester and Josie Sands are there to greet her with a letter. 

Dean meanwhile, plays a game of pool alone while Crowley picks his brain about the blade, and what it was like to kill Magnus. 

For Excellent Directing Science:

Crowley thinks Dean is scared. Dean doesn’t refute him. 

Julia continues her story. Henry and Josie were there investigating a murder-suicide of sorts. One of the nuns killed two people before jumping from the church bell tower. They speak with the Mother Superior, and they are allowed to roam the abbey in their investigation. Julia is their guide and takes them to the nun’s quarters. 

While walking, Josie and Henry talk and complain about the tasks they have to do before being fully initiated into the Men of Letters. 

They find the nun’s room covered in washed away blood and an etched in symbol that Josie recognizes as knights of hell. 

Julia hears a noise later that night and finds a man with black eyes in a habit dragging someone up the stairs. She turns to run and gets punched by another fake nun.

She wakes up tied to a chair, along with other victims. As other victims are removed from the room one by one, Julia weeps. Suddenly, Josie and Henry burst in with exorcism spells and holy water blazing. The demons inhabiting the nuns smoke out, but Mother Superior walks in. She’s impervious to Henry’s exorcism and intrigued to learn that they’re Men of Letters. She decides to possess Henry in order to infiltrate the Men of Letters. Josie begs her to stop, and offers up herself instead. She loves Henry in a terrible, unrequited fashion. The demon introduces herself as Abaddon, the Knight of Hell. She possesses Josie.

While Abaddon decides to head off to infiltrate and destroy the Men of Letters, she leaves the other demon nun behind to continue their evil work. 

Sam’s intrigued by this Abandon connection, and tries to figure out what she was up to. He looks at a security camera shot of the nunnery van, and decides to investigate. Julia tells him that it’s been closed for years. Perfect for a shadowy demon enterprise, then!

Dean, meanwhile, sidles up to the bar with Crowley. He’s firmly in denial about the Mark, but Crowley has a clear idea of who he thinks Dean is - “a chip off the old Mark of Cain.”

Crowley insists that they’re in the fight against Abandon together, and the sooner that Dean embraces his true Cain-adjacent nature, the better. He leaves Dean to brood at the bar, clasp the Mark of Cain through his jacket, and enjoy bitter flashbacks.

Dean spots another flanneled individual at the bar. He’s fondling a rosary and sporting a large hunting knife. As Crowley heads to the powder room, the guy follows. Dean manages to stop him just before he heads into the men’s room. “You’re packing a knife to a demon fight and you don’t stand a chance,” Dean tells him.

Dean warns the guy that when Crowley’s done killing him, then he’ll go after his family, friends, and entire life. Adequately warned, the guy sheaths his knife and heads out of the bar. Dean orders Crowley to clear out of the bathroom, and they reconvene outside. Crowley tells Dean he was enjoying a shot of sweet, sweet human blood (and emotions) in the bathroom…but that he recognizes the signs of addiction in Dean as well. Specifically, Crowley recognizes the itch of longing for the First Blade in Dean. Dean insists that he’s ready to take down Abaddon no matter what, and then he takes off. Once Dean leaves, the “hunter” in the bar emerges to talk to Crowley. It turns out he was a test to see if Dean would save Crowley’s life. “He’s ready,” Crowley says, and smiles.

Sam pulls up outside of the old convent. It’s run down and cluttered, but the van is parked outside. He finds sparkling jars lined up on a shelf. 

The van driver from earlier tries to accost Sam, but Sam makes quick work of him. Unfortunately for Sam, the old nun from earlier hurls him across the room. She looks at the sparkling jars and calls them souls - if the jars break those souls are going to fly right back to their bodies. Sam recognizes her from Julia’s story - she’s still a minion of Abaddon after all these years. 

Agnes villain-speeches Abaddon’s big plan to Sam: they’re harvesting souls and turning them into demons so they can win Hell’s crown. Abaddon has soul harvesters everywhere. She tries to harvest Sam, but Sam pulls out his cell phone and starts playing a recording of an exorcism. She drags herself to the phone and smashes it before she smokes out, only to be stabbed moments later by the demon-killing knife. 

Sam frees the souls.

The souls zip out like Tinkerbell, and head for the people locked up in prison. Remorse and horror overtake them. I continue to insist that we need a team of trained, dedicated counselors for victims of supernatural trauma. 

Sam and Julia catch up after the case. He asks her why she didn’t warn Henry about Abaddon. Julia flashes back to Abaddon personally threatening her and warning her to stay quiet. She left the order, overwhelmed with shame. Sam tells her that all she told him has saved people. 

We flash back one more time to Henry and Abaddon back in the car and ready to head home. Henry remains passionate about the Men of Letters cause. And Josie? Josie feels like “a whole new person.” Dun dun DUN

When Sam arrives back at the bunker, Dean’s back to research. 

They exchange short updates before Sam tells Dean that he’s re-evaluated his position. Abaddon IS priority number one. She’s creating an army, and must be stopped.

These Quotes Sparkle Like Souls:

Maybe everyone has a different reaction to losing their soul

Unless Abaddon likes 10-cent wings, stale beer, and the clap, I doubt that she's here

I prayed and prayed, but God didn't answer my prayers. Henry and Josie did

Nothing like Cain? What's in that bottle? Delusion? 

I’m going to go water the lily. Care to cross streams?

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[sleepy-exe]

Shapeshifter AU - 4

Iwaizumi x f!reader

<< Part 3 | Part 5 >>

Summary: Iwaizumi goes stargazing with Y/n at a park in the forest. She tries to find out what he knows. She then stays the night with him for more info, but what’s the plan? Sakusa just wants his friend to be safe.

Word count: 2.8k 

Warnings: y/n makes bad choices, and is kind of a creep but confronts that, poor Sakusa’s driving skills get shit talked and he ain’t even here, murder mentioned (1) one time, I prob got too detailed with the car reveal, sakusa is best boy, iwa’s a total dad 

Genre: sfw (for now, 18+ regardless), shapeshifter au, strangers to potential enemies to friends to lovers

a/n: I probably wrote too much about the car, but I’m a car guy (gal? person?). I hope yall like stars/stargazing. This is like borderline fluff. Also did you like Sakusa’s contact name. Cause I thought it was funnier than it actually is.

Part 4: It Can’t Hurt

Now outside the bar, the two of them headed for her car. There was only street parking when Y/n arrived earlier, so she had to walk down the street for a good 5 minutes or so to get there; all along they chatted about Ikuno. She never really came here except for the dive bar. It was only about a 15 minute drive here from work, so that was a bonus, but otherwise she had no reason to be in Ikuno.

Reaching her black Civic, the doors unlocked. She crawled into the passenger seat herself as Iwaizumi agreed to drive to the park. Being a shifter, she’s not too afraid of being in the car with a stranger. Surely she could defend herself against one guy - she’d be alone with him in the car and at the park. On the other hand, if he thinks there’s something weird up with her, such as being able to turn into a wolf, she wondered why he would even agree to tag along. Wouldn’t he be afraid of her?

Once he was in and shut the door, he was checking out the interior: black with red accents on the dash, doors, and steering wheel. In dash computer, racing style seats and petals. “When you said you drove a Civic, this isn’t what I was expecting.” He found the push start before bothering to ask for the keys.

“She’s cute, huh? ‘17 Type-R. My baby,” she went on, running a hand over the dash affectionately and giving it a little pat.

“’Cute’.. Not sure if that’s the word I’d choose.” He gave her a concerned look, “You really want a stranger driving your.. ‘baby’?”

“What are ya shit at driving?” She teased, “Please. I’m not letting you take off without me.” The memory of Sakusa learning to drive a manual in Type-R when it was new popped in her head. That was a rough day for her poor car. If this guy really knows how to drive a manual, then it can’t be any worse for it than when Sakusa is driving. She chuckled, “A friend I let drive it, I taught him to drive stick in this. He still isn’t great, but he doesn't stall it nearly as much as he used to.” She shrugs and taps on the screen in the dash, setting the GPS for the park.

“You taught your friend to drive in this?” He started the engine, put it in first gear, and pulled out of the parking spot flawlessly.

“To drive a manual,” she corrected, “He could already drive. He just only drives automatics. I tried telling him these are a lot more fun.”

The bar isn’t that far from the highway, so they were on it in no time. Driving down the highway, again he was shifting through gears smoothly. A nice change from the rough shifting she usually experiences while riding passenger. She should really get Sakusa to practice more. Not that he wants to. Deciding to text Sakusa, she pulls out her phone and sends him her GPS location for their little outing. Just to be safe. It’s not even quite 10pm yet, so he shouldn’t care. Though regardless he’d never complain about this sort of text.

More time went by as they traveled down the highway. They sat in silence, other than the engine and various street sounds. It wasn’t too awkward and Iwaizumi has yet to complain like she’s used to. If anything, he might be enjoying the ride.

With a buzz, she checks her texts. Sakusa replied and asked that she check in later so he knows she's safe. As much as she mentally shit talks his driving, she knows he’s an amazing friend and she loves him to death.

Checking his text, she was reminded of Oikawa’s text in the bar essentially asking if she were single. Though he was likely teasing and just trying to text something other than ‘hi’ or his name, but why not have fun with it.

>> To ’Oi-chan‘: “who’s asking?”

“So,” she breaks the silence, “Have you been to this park?”

“What one is it again?” He glanced at the GPS’s listed destination, “No, I haven’t been in that area. At least not that I can’t think of.”

“But you’ve been south of there then?”

He hesitated. “I haven’t been in the forest or surrounding parks. I've just been by them. I have friends that live around there and down the street is a convenience store right by the tree line that I sometimes run to if I’m over there.. But other than that, I don’t know the forest or the area for that matter.”

“I see.. It’s really beautiful out there.”

“Maybe I’ll have to go sometime when the sun’s out then. You’re a regular, right? Maybe you can show me around?”

Well. Sort of.

Not a regular at the trails and parks. Or being there during daylight hours. “I wouldn’t say regular.. I haven’t been to this park in ages.”

He had no response. Only looking out the windshield as he exited the highway. The GPS showed only 8 minutes left. The area ahead full of trees.

Y/n directed Iwaizumi where to park as the gates to the parking lot were closed. All nature parks are closed at night after all. There was even a sign stating that and warning visitors not to enter after dark, but where’s the adventure in following those warnings?

“You.. Sure we should be here?” Iwaizumi asked warily, walking alongside her in the grass. They left the car along the road, but no one should be out here this late so it’s fine.

“Like legally or..?”

“Y/n!”

She laughed and led him to an open field. The trees were far enough from this spot to give a clear view of the sky, stars twinkling, crescent moon shining. This really is the best place to stargaze. She wasn't lying about that.

“Hey! Don’t run!” He yelled as she took off for the middle of the field, giggling in response.

“I’m sure you can catch up, Mr. Athletic Trainer!”

“That’s not-“

But she wasn't listening. Instead she was slowing down as she reached the perfect spot, sitting down in the grass. Very soon he was sitting down too, a couple feet from her.

He wasn’t even in arms reach. “Okay, so what now.”

She smiles at him then looks to the sky. It can be hard to see the stars with how bright the city was, but out here was far enough away from any unnatural light source that she could pick out constellations. Well, the ones she knew anyway.

The both of them sat quietly, looking to the stars, hearing nothing but the nocturnal sounds of the woods surrounding them. Generally such spaces were incredibly calming, but with the anticipated conversation her heart was pounding. She still didn’t know anything for sure and her excuse of too many people around to ask questions, like at the bar, didn’t work here. Alone, far from anyone, in her element - what better time to find her answers.

In a low voice, still admiring the stars, she spoke, “So.. You’ve seen me ‘round before, huh?”

She peeks at him from the corner of her eye. No response, he’s only staring forward. So she continues, “Like at that bar? ..I’m not in Ikuno much, and deeper in the city can be so crowded, I doubt you would have noticed me anywhere there.” She tried not to jump straight to the point. Frightened prey always ran after all.

In a similar tone, he answers, “Maybe the bar.. Maybe we crossed paths elsewhere..”

Still looking up, though not at anything in particular, she hummed. “I think I’ve seen you before too.” She could feel his eyes on her now, but chose to not make eye contact and instead point up to a small constellation she found. She named what she thought it was aloud, pointing it out to Iwaizumi.

“Where?” He squinted at the sky, no idea which stars she was pointing to.

With a snicker she inched closer to him. Tracing a finger in the air, “Look. Right there. A few kinda go in a line and some off the side.”

He keeps staring at the sky, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Pretty sure you’re just crazy.”

The look she threw his way was comical, “No! I’m not!”

“Uh huh.. Definitely crazy.. You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you?” He looked back to her, serious as ever, “..‘Cause Oikawa will be so upset if I don't show up for lunch tomorrow. Seriously. He’ll whine so much, and he has your number now. He’ll absolutely call you and whine, thinking I’m ignoring him. You don't want that, right?”

She stared blankly at him. For a second there she really did think he was serious. “..Yeah. That sounds really annoying. I’d hate to have to deal with a sobbing Oikawa.” She attempted a playful tone that may or may not have failed. She followed up with a chuckle for good measure, “Guess I can’t commit murder then. That’d look bad on my record anyway. Plus, someone as pretty as me in prison? No thanks.”

He laughed and leaned back on his hands, gaze back at the sky. Tension down, she scooted closer. “There really is a constellation there, I swear.”

“Yeah. I see it.” He glanced towards her for a split second, “I was just fucking with you.”

Her jaw dropped. “Rude!”

She returned her attention to the sky, searching for any other constellation she might recognize. He even pointed one out to her, though he couldn’t remember what it was called. Unfortunately, she couldn’t either, but it was definitely a constellation. Had to be.

“..The convenient store you said your friend’s by. I think I’ve seen you there before. Maybe you recognized me from there?” Silence, but she noticed he was looking at her again. Slowly she turned her head to meet his gaze. Keeping calm, she gave him a light smile. He didn’t look all that uneasy, like she felt in her gut. She spoke with warmth, desperate to keep the conversation from getting uncomfortable, “Iwaizumi?”

The corners of his lips ticked up and mischief shined in his eyes. “What are you a stalker or something?” He laughed as she scoffed. “Fine. I've probably been there enough times. Maybe I did see you there before.”

Leaning her head back, she looked at the sky once more, but this time she wasn't searching the stars.

He doesn't seem like he’ll be a problem..

She was sitting much closer now than when they first arrived at the park. Carefully, she leaned her head on his shoulder, inhaling orange and sage and something else. She glances up to him before quickly averting her eyes to the stars one more time.

Soon both of them were walking out of the field. “I can take you home,” she offered.

Iwaizumi was trailing close to her side, heading back to the car that was left forgotten along the small paved road. Luckily, no authorities showed up. “I might take you up on that. It won't be out of the way will it?”

“If you’re in Ikuno, then that’s not too awfully far off from my drive home.” She gave him a teasing look, “Unless you would rather go to my place.. Though Ikuno is closer. Maybe I’ll just stay with you.”

He rolled his eyes and complained, “Are you really inviting yourself to my apartment?” Nudging her arm with his, and teased, “Think I wouldn’t invite you myself?”

She cocked a brow, “Oh?” Car now in sight, she heads for the driver’s door, making the car unlock. “I’ll drive.” Opening the door she added, “Just put your address in the GPS for me.”

Mini mission complete.

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “didn’t die. didn’t go home tho”

Following Iwaizumi into his apartment, Y/n kicked off her shoes by the door and hung up her coat. He had done the same and was headed for the kitchen to the right. “Hungry? Want anything?”

“Nah, thanks though.” She helped herself to the armchair in the corner across the room. His home felt warm and cozy, the sofa now to her right looked just as comfortable as the chair she’s in, coffee table mostly neat with books and a stack of papers. A soft area rug covered the center of the living room, covering a large portion of the wooden floors, the walls were a soft tan and to her surprise not completely bare. An entertainment center sat against the wall opposite of the sofa, a bookcase next to that. And there’s the large window to her left on the wall behind her. It gave that homey vibe. Looking lived in, but not a mess.

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “Do you plan on going home or are you going on one of your late night runs?”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’:“Should I stay up waiting on a I’m home text?”

Iwaizumi walked in from the kitchen with two glasses of water and placed one on the coffee table in front of her.

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “neither and no”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “go to sleep sakusa”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “and thank you”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “I want to ask but also don't want to know so goodnight Y/n. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Without spilling his water, Iwaizumi fell back on the sofa, watching as she typed away on her phone. “Letting someone know where you are?”

“Maybe,” she mumbles, setting her phone in her lap, she reached for the water.

“I mean, that’s a good habit to have if you are.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure you don't want anything to eat?”

She laughed, “Do you normally parent the people you bring home from bars?”

“I’d hardly say I brought you home when you invited yourself over and then complained about being tired halfway here,” he complained.

“Well, I appreciate that ya offered to take over and aren’t forcing me to drive home tired.” She smiled then looked around again. “Do you have a dog or anything? Anyone live with ya? ..Ah! If you don't mind me asking.”

He shook his head, “No. No pets and it's just me here.”

Finishing her water, she carefully set the glass back on the coffee table. “I’m not hungry, but don't let that stop you from eating if you are.. If you don't mind, I may clean up while ya eat.”

“Of course,” he leaned forward to set his half empty glass down and retrieved hers before standing. “I’ll show you where everything is.”

She followed him down a short hallway as he led her to a bathroom. He pointed out anything she might need and got her a towel, as well as offering her clothes to sleep in to be more comfortable. She sniffed different soaps and such while he stepped out for a moment. Returning quickly with what appeared to be a t-shirt and sweatpants. She thanked him as he left the bathroom once more.

“Oh hey,” he stopped in the doorway and pointed in the opposite direction of the living space, “My room is that way. I’m just going to sleep out here.”

“Oh no no no,” she held a hand up, “You sleep in your bed. I’m fine with taking the sofa. I’m already using your place for tonight, it's no bother.”

“I can’t let-“ With the look she shot him, she cut him off. He lifted his hands, “Okay.. I’ll be in the kitchen for now.”

And with that he was gone, door closing behind him. Flipping the lock, she turned back to the shower. Turning it on, she messed with the temperature until it was just right before stripping and getting in.

After a probably longer than necessary shower, she felt clean and now smelled of sage, orange, and black pepper. Sweeping her damp hair back and out of her face, she got into the clothes he left for her. Which admittedly didn't fit the best, but they’d work. She stared at her dirty clothes for a moment before deciding to just leave them in a neat pile in there and picked up her phone.

Stepping into the hall, she didn't hear anything. Walking around the kitchen and living room, she determined he must be in bed already. Setting her phone aside, she situated the newly found blankets and pillows on the sofa and turned off the lights after opening the curtains to let some light into the room so she could find her way around the unfamiliar space. Crawling into the blankets, she played on her phone quietly, too awake and unsure about the decision she made to stay here. She was supposed to find out what she needed and go home. And yet somehow she was in the home of the very person who kept her up all those nights ago, wondering if he had seen her and what was going to happen if he did.

But nothing has happened. And the last sighting was over a week ago.

And he’s been nice to her even though she’s been a total creep.

What’s the plan?

Part 5 >>

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You: Stand By Me

Taglist: @jineunwootrash​

If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of this blog’s works, please ask!

Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.

Chapter 8: The Closet Confrontation

Lucas’s POV

I was minding my own business. While I was walking to dance practice in the S.M. building, somebody yanked me into a utility closet. Maybe yank is too strong of a word. Anyway, even though the touch wasn’t exactly rough, I yelped. My heart hammered against my ribcage, and it didn’t calm immediately after I was released.

My fear didn’t fade even when my abductor flipped on the overhead light to reveal his identity. For a split second, I thought my eyes were tricking me or something because I had never seen any member of EXO up close. None of them had talked to me before. Even after blinking over and over again, after my eyes adjusted to the light, Sehun stayed in front of me.

Sehun wasn’t much taller than me, but almost anyone (including me) would have shrunk under his gaze just because of his height. Panic melted into confusion the longer he looked at me.

What did he want? Why was he scowling down at me, sharp eyebrows arched and drawn together, when we had never even met? These weren’t the kinds of questions anyone should ask when faced with the kind of glare he offered me. Even I knew that. So I bit down on my tongue and waited for him to speak first.

“What are your intentions with Lei?” His voice was low, almost a casual sort of whisper. The only hint that he was upset about something was the dark glint in his eyes. His eyes were dark. The only person with darker brown (almost black) eyes was Lei.

Lei’s name, when it fell out of Sehun’s mouth and popped up in my thoughts, made me smile. Something warm spread through my chest as I bragged, “She’s the coolest girl I know!” Even Sehun’s pointed stare couldn’t kill that warmth no matter how hard it tried.

“Is that it?” Sehun raised a single eyebrow. He didn’t look convinced, and I couldn’t understand.

Nobody has ever believed that Lei and I are just friends. Maybe we aren’t. Maybe we never were.

Don’t get crazy! We weren’t in love. It’s just— from the moment we met, we were family. From the moment we met, we were inseparable. Not even her fear of scandal kept us apart because it was clear from day one, from the second we found each other by the vending machine, that we were meant to be friends.

Our relationship was always special. And it never occurred to me that it could have been romantic until Sehun dragged me into that closet, crossed his arms over his chest, cut his eyes at me, and accused me of feeling more.

My mind went blank. No, not blank. Just overwhelmed with reimaginations of Lei— my best friend— that I shook out of my head. My feelings weren’t like that. I mean, they could have been. They were always ambiguous. A heartbeat away from being something that would make Lei run. But I didn’t want Lei to run from me. That was always the most important thing to me; being someone she could count on.

If I liked Lei the way Sehun assumed or feared, he wouldn’t have had to point it out to me in that cold, cramped closet. And even if I had the tiniest crush on Lei, it wouldn’t have compared to whatever emotion set the fire ablaze in Sehun’s eyes.

“Hey.” Sehun snapped his fingers in my face. “Are you going to answer?”

The snapping annoyed me, but Sehun didn’t bother me as much as I clearly bothered him without trying. I wasn’t really a confrontational person, and I definitely wasn’t dumb enough to challenge an official idol as a trainee. There was no option but to answer his questions even though he was determined to doubt me.

Wondering when, where, and why Sehun got so attached to Lei— deciding that he wouldn’t tell me even if I asked— I nodded. “Yeah. She’s my best friend.” I squirmed, remembering his original question. “My intentions with Lei? I don’t have any, I guess—”

It’s like I told you. We became friends so quickly, and I was never really one to map out the future anyway. Still, I had to answer Sehun somehow.

“ — I guess I just want to stay with her for a while. Forever, probably.”

A line formed between Sehun’s eyebrows. “Forever?” He repeated the word like never heard it before.

“Forever,” I said again. Sehun kept looking at me like he wanted me to say something else, so I offered, “If you want, I can ask her if she likes you.” His eyes blew wide, and I almost laughed at having struck the nail on the head.

He grumbled, “That won’t be necessary,” but I could see the pink coloring his cheeks even in the dim lighting, and nothing he said would convince me that he didn’t like her.

“Seriously, it’s not a problem,” I promised. “I’ll just ask her when I go over to her house for our sleepover tonight, and—”

“Sleepover?” He wheezed. All color, even the blush, drained from his face. I nodded, and he shook his head, frowning. “I don’t believe you. I taught Lei better than to have sleepovers. She doesn’t get close to boys like that.”

That was true in most cases, but I was something like a special exception because I would never take the first step in blurring the lines between friendship and— well, I don’t like saying ‘something more’ because I’ve never thought that romantic junk was any better than friendship. I’ve never thought that holding hands or kissing was the ‘next step.’ All I mean is that Lei let me into her world because I never expected to do anything but laugh and watch cartoons.

While reaching for the door, I told Sehun, “She’s close to me.”

There was a tiny change in his expression— like the fire in his eyes flickered— and I knew I said the wrong thing. I couldn’t have taken it back even if I wanted to. One thing was plain to me from the beginning: Sehun didn’t want Lei to be close to me; he wanted her to be close to him. But there was nothing I could do about that.

After that, Sehun glared at me for years. It was obvious that he didn’t like me, but he never said so. I guess he was too polite for that sort of thing. All he said was, “You can go.”

Feeling lucky that he hadn’t yelled at me or punched me in the face— forgetting that I hadn’t actually done anything to bother him in the first place— I hauled ass before Sehun could change his mind. The instructor and other trainees glared at me for being late, but I didn’t really care because it was suddenly obvious why I was Lei’s only close friend. It was obvious why I was the only guy Lei didn’t hide her face from.

Somehow, Sehun taught her to be that way. Guarded. Mistrustful. Lonely. And I wasn’t sure how to forgive him for building the walls that applied to everyone but me— even to good people. I wasn’t sure how to forgive him for causing the wounds that I tried to bandage with laughter. I wasn’t sure if I could.

(Sehun/Donghae texts)

Although Sehun told me not to ask, I had to know if Lei liked him for my own edification. I wasn’t going to try to talk her out of liking him or anything just because I didn’t really like him after the Closet Confrontation as I like to call it.

Because Lei tended to be sensitive about these kinds of things, I approached the topic slowly just in case they had some kind of bad blood. In the months of being her best friend, I had never seen her talk to Sehun, and something in my gut warned me that there had been some kind of falling out.

So I waited until we were alone in an orange tent in the backyard of her house (which was practically mine too) with our plates piled high with s’mores and other snacks provided by her Mom (which was also practically mine too). “So what’s the deal with you and angry brows?”

She raised an eyebrow at me. A corner of her mouth raised slightly. In the beginning, that was the closest she would get to a smile. “Angry brows?” she repeated through a mouthful of melted chocolate and marshmallow.

When our friendship started, I had to talk her into eating junk food, but that night she ate without my urging. I smiled at her progress. “Yeah. Angry brows. You know, Sehun. From EXO.”

“Oh.” Her face turned bright red, and I didn’t have to wonder whether his name was the cause of her blush. Nothing had ever been clearer. Her heart probably fluttered or thundered as she drew her knees up to her chest. “I’ve known Sehun for, like—” she counted out the years on two hands— “seven years.”

“Wow.” I whistled. “That’s a long time.” She nodded. “So he’s, like, your guardian or something!”

“Yeah, he’s something like that.” She pressed her chin atop her polka-dotted pajama pants. “Why do you ask?”

I was almost reluctant to say anything that might threaten an old relationship. Quickly, I explained, “He pulled me into a closet at the agency building today and asked me what my intentions are with you.” Instantly, she frowned, and I rushed to defend Sehun. “I think he was worried that I’m gonna hurt you or something.”

“Well, you’re not,” she said flatly. I would have been happy that she trusted me so much if she had cracked the smallest smile. She dropped a half-eaten s’more onto her plate and combed the braid out of her hair with sticky fingers. “I don’t see how my relationships are any of his business anyway.”

“If you ask me—” I stuffed a s’more into my mouth— “he thinks it’s his business because he likes you.”

Lei choked. “You’re crazy, Lucas!”

“That’s what you always say!” I couldn’t help but laugh at her wide-eyed red-faced expression once she caught her breath because it was an exact copy of the face Sehun made in the closet.

“Do you ever think that I’m right about these kinds of things? I have a better understanding of the male mind, you know.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t think you’re right. I think you’re crazy.”

I playfully argued, stealing the half-s’more from her plate, “Well, maybe I can be crazy and right when I say that Sehun definitely has a thing for you.”

She said, “That’s not funny, Lucas.”

And I swore, “I’m not joking or anything!”

But she wouldn’t believe me. She seemed to be chewing through her cheek when she said, “Sehun has always been too old to like me back. He’ll always be too old for me.”

I didn’t respond immediately. I gave her the chance to reclaim her secrets. But even after moments passed in silence, she didn’t try to deny liking Sehun. Then, when she forced an uncooked marshmallow into her cheek, I realized that it wasn’t a secret. She wasn’t embarrassed. She accepted her feelings and the belief that they would never be returned before we ever met.

Something about that made me sad even though she wasn’t quite frowning. I tried to tell her, “He won’t always be too old.”

“I’m sixteen, and he’s twenty-one,” she said matter-of-factly.

“So what?” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s a big gap right now, but someday, five years will be nothing, and—”

“It doesn’t matter.” She spoke so casually that I almost believed her. I would have believed her if she said it while looking me in the eyes, but her gaze was fixed on the patterns she was tracing on the blanket lining the floor of the tent. “I don’t like him so he’ll like me back. I’m not holding my breath or anything, so—”

She would have told me then and there that she didn’t just like Sehun like any sixteen-year-old might like an older guy. She loved him. We would have stayed up all night recounting all of their memories— the good and the bad ones— had Donghae not poked his head into the tent.

“So you are having a sleepover!” He frowned at us, and I almost felt like I did something wrong.

Mom was nowhere to be seen, but I heard her scold, “Leave my kids alone, Donghae! They’re innocent, and—”

Donghae tore his eyes away from us to stare at Mom as he argued, “A boy is a boy, Manager! We don’t know what his intentions are! He shouldn’t stay here!”

Donghae’s sudden appearance was no longer a mystery to me. Sehun sent him to lecture me because I mentioned the sleepover earlier. He distrusted me so much— or he was so jealous of my friendship with Lei— that he tattled to a member of Super Junior who was practically Lei’s dad. I wasn’t that shocked. I just figured, considering the Closet Confrontation, that Sehun would’ve wanted to confront us himself.

Anyway, the lectures about ‘my intentions’ wouldn’t have been so bad if I had actually been up to no good. They wouldn’t have been so bad if I was really interested in becoming Lei’s boyfriend or something.

After seeing the humiliated look on Lei’s face, I decided to just go back to my dorm. I was standing in the tent when Mom barked, “Lucas is staying, Donghae!” I sat back down. I only needed Mom’s permission to stay. “If you want to chaperone, feel free to set up the other tent.”

Nobody was surprised that Donghae actually went to the trouble to set up the other tent, but I was kind of shocked when he asked Mom if she would chaperone with him. It was an obvious attempt at flirting, but Mom shook her head. She was either uninterested or oblivious enough to respond, “My drama is getting good.”

And I realized that while Donghae might have been genuinely concerned about Lei, he had mostly come to see Mom when he followed her back into the house to watch the drama with her. I didn’t really blame him. Mom was hot.

Anyway, Donghae was in and out of the house, so Lei eagerly dropped the conversation about Sehun. I didn’t try to pick it back up. I didn’t need to. I learned what I wanted to know: whatever feeling Sehun had for her that escaped from his eyes as a glare pointed at me— Lei spilled it on every word she said about him every day until the first Christmas Incident.

Over time, Lei told me how they met by the vending machine, how he made her tenth birthday golden, how he helped her walk through the dark to find Mom after Heechul lost her at the drive-in and how he even stayed to watch Beauty and the Beast with her, how he helped her through trainee days with words of encouragement, how he bought her cotton candy on a trip to Puroland and promised to look out for her always, how he (and Donghae) bought the charm bracelet that I saw on her wrist every day of our friendship to celebrate her debut, how she forced herself out of the habit of following him “like a moth drawn to a flame” after he scolded her at a concert.

And then I understood why he was so protective— possessive, even. I understood that I was wrong to say that Sehun liked her once it was obvious— it was unmistakable— that he loved her. Maybe after knowing somebody that long, you can’t help but love them.

I can’t really tell the difference between, like, ‘brotherly love,’ or ‘friendly love,’ or ‘romantic love,’ and all that. I’ve always thought that love is just love. Wanting what’s best for someone. Some people just express it differently— by holding hands, or kissing, or staying up all night counting the stars, or sharing bouquets of flowers, or watching cartoons first thing in the morning, or laughing until sides split, or hoping for happiness from afar, or wishing to turn back time. Some people try so hard to fit their feelings into boxes, and I wish they wouldn’t. I wish they would understand that it’s impossible. It will only hurt them.

I guess it was easy for me to see that Sehun loved Lei too— probably just as much as she loved him if feelings can be measured like that— because I was an outsider. It always made me sad that Lei couldn’t understand his feelings because, as much as she denied it, she wanted him to love her too. And he did. He just didn’t express it in a way she understood.

I probably couldn’t have helped her to understand even if I tried, but I guess I’ll never know. I never tried to explain Sehun’s feelings because— well— they were his feelings. I didn’t have the words. And it wasn’t my place to speak for him. It was my place to tell Lei, “I think that you should follow him if that would make you happy.”

“That wouldn’t make me happy anymore,” she said, and I thought she was going to cry. “I’m afraid that won’t make me happy ever again.”

So I slung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her because I really, really didn’t want her to cry. “Then wait for him to follow you, Lei.”

She laughed an unamused, airy sort of laugh because she didn’t believe that would ever happen. She didn’t know that the days when Sehun would chase her were just around the corner.

But I did. And it didn’t matter that I wanted somebody less afraid of love for Lei. I wanted those days to start as soon as possible.