#and we stopped for kebabs but the place was almost closing

[moody-alcoholic]

The Missing Piece

Chapter 10 - The Morning After

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. 2.4k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: Fluff, hangover, Johnny and reader shower together but no sex.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

When you wake your head is throbbing. You don’t remember falling alseep, you look round the dark room. You’re in Johnny and Simon’s bed. You pull yourself out the bed leaving the room. You can see the sun coming in lighting up the flat. You can hear voices, the bed was empty. 

You press the guestroom door open, she’s not there the bedding has been stripped. Where is she? You head into the bathroom opening the cupboard looking for painkillers, you accidentally drop a bottle of something off the shelf making you jump. You bend down to pick it up.

“You okay?” Simon asks, you look up at him in the doorway. 

“Yeah I’m fine just looking for some paracetamol.” You say getting up. 

“It’s in the kitchen,” Simon says coming in the room. You close the cupboard stopping at the mirror. 

“How’s it look?” You ask, he steps closer his hand cupping your face, his thumb brushes  your cheek. 

“Not bad.” He says, you smile turning your head to look in the mirror, the side of your head is swollen but the bruising doesn't look to bad, you must have not been hit hard they were drunk.

“Where’s Chloe?” You ask as you start to leave the room. 

“She woke early insisted on being driven to her place.” Simon says.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You ask frustrated letting Simon lead you to the master bedroom. 

“Go lie down I’ll get you the pain killers.” He says kissing your cheek and gently pushing you into the room. You turn to watch him walk away. There must be someone visiting, you can still hear Johnny talking in a hushed voice. You’re trying to look as Simon comes back with a glass of water and two pills in his hand. You take the glass from him trying to crane your head to listen as he pushes you into the room. 

“Is there someone here?” You as sitting on the bed.

“Price came round for coffee.” He says. You throw the pills back gulping down some water, handing the glass back to him. 

“Want me to come say hi?” You say, although the thought of interacting with anyone right now seemed like too much effort. He smiles bending down to kiss your forehead.

“I’ll tell him you say hi.” He says, you nod getting yourself into bed. As you pull the duvet over you you look over on the bedside table. There was a framed picture of Johnny and Simon, looks like they’re at a party or something, maybe just out at the pub, they’re both looking at each other, Johnny’s arms wrapped round Simon’s arm pulling him close. They’re both smiling at each other. You smile and close you’re eyes, hoping it won’t be long till the painkillers kick in. 

—————————— 

You wake to Johnny by your side, the throbbing in your head dulled. You move closer to him which stirs him awake as he pulls you onto his chest.  

“Hey, you okay?” He asks sleepily, almost like it’s an automatic response. 

“I’m so sick of people asking that.” You say puling yourself up to his face. You kiss him, you’ve missed his touch and Simon, where is he? You can’t feel him behind you.

“Where’s Simon?” You ask. 

“Work,” Johnny says stroking your hair out your face. His fingers stopping round the bump, he doesn't touch it instead his fingers finding their way back to your chin. 

“What time is it?” You ask. He turns over reaching for his phone. 

“Four, wanna order some pizza?” He asks looking back up at you. You smile, pizza does sound amazing.

“I could kill for a kebab.” You say giggling. 

“Kebab sounds good, the work out after doesn’t.” He says pulling you up. You swing your legs over his waist so you’re sat on top of him. 

“We can just have lots of sex.” You say leaning down kissing him. 

“Pizza sounds good too,” you say. “Whatever you want.” You stroke his face looking down at his sleepy blue eyes looking back at you. You kiss him again playing with his tongue, his fingers digging into your waist. You pull away smiling. 

“I’ll take a shower, you order food?” You say. He nods and you quickly kiss him one more time climbing off him heading into the bathroom. 

Johnny joins you in the shower after he’s finished ordering food. He helps you wash lathering your body in a thick layer of soap, he spends his time mapping out your curves, running his hands over your body like it’s the first time he’s touched you. 

You think he might want to have sex but that doesn’t happen, instead he spends the time touching you, kissing you, running is tongue across your neck. He washes you while you stand there running your hands up his chest or down his back. You let the steam in the room relax you, the throbbing in your head is completely gone. 

You enjoy his touch letting him dig his fingers into your skin, he presses his nose against yours kissing you until his phone pings. 

“That’ll be the food.” He says opening the shower doors and stepping out. He leaves you and you finish washing the rest of the soap out your hair before you leave too. 

—————————— 

You end up on the sofa with Johnny watching some cheesy action film with a pizza each. Johnny screams at the film talking about how unrealistic it is. You laugh each time then cuddle on the sofa watching the sun set and the rain move in. 

When the door to the flat opens and Simon walks in he still has his mask on. Your breath catches in your throat as he walks down to the dining table putting his phone and keys down. Johnny mutters something under his breath before getting up to meet him. Simon’s eyes lock onto yours but he almost immediately looks away. You don’t know what to do. 

“Need anything?” Johnny asks him as he picks up Simon’s phone and keys. Simon won’t meet his eye line either. He shakes his head heading to the bedroom. Johnny comes back over to the sofa putting Simon’s phone on the coffee table. 

“Is he okay?” You ask. Johnny nods playing with his wedding ring again. “Should we talk to him?” 

“He might just need a few minutes, he’s had a long day.” Johnny says sighing. You decide to drop it, turning back to the TV, it’s raining outside now, feels like it could storm. Johnny doesn’t move, just sits there, starring out the window occasionally flicking his eyes back to the bedroom. 

You sigh suddenly distracted by the buzzing of your phone you pull it out. It’s work, they shouldn’t be calling you for another week at least. You get up to answer it going into the kitchen. You see Johnny turn to look at you, you turn away.  

“You’re being stationed in Syria, you’ll be expected to report for duty at London Heathrow airport at oh-six-hundred on the 20th of July.” The voice said. You were too distracted by the fact you were being stationed overseas, the middle east, fucking Syria that you almost missed the fact that the 20th was in 3 days. 

“I still have two weeks of leave.” You protest quickly. 

“It’s been postponed you’ll be getting an official letter within the next 48 hours or the next bushiness day.” You didn't know what to say, you have never been called up like this before, you’re an army nurse you sit on army bases doing health checks and vaccinations. 

“I need to hear you acknowledge the message.” The voice says you’re almost not listening. 

“Yeah, I acknowledge it.” You’re too stunned to speak, not even remotely professional. The woman says have a good day and you echo back the same. You turn to look at Johnny still on the sofa. His head moves to look at you as you make your way back to the sofa. 

“You okay love?” Johnny asks. Shit, he already has to deal with Simon, you’ll tell them when he’s feeling better. You force a smile looking back out at the rain pelting down harder. 

“Yeah, weather sucks.” You say sitting back down.

“Who was on the phone?” He asks, seemingly being able to read through your bullshit. 

“Chloe, she was checking in.” You lie, he nods looking back at the TV. You scoot up next to him trying to relax against him. His arm leaves his wedding ring and he starts to rub your back.  

 —————————— 

An hour later Simon materialises from the bedroom, you see out the corner of your eye as the bathroom door closes. Johnny sits up and you move too leaving a gap for Simon to sit between you both. When he comes out the bathroom he pulls a shirt on walking towards the sofa. His hair is a mess he must have taken a nap. He walks over to the sofa leaning down and kissing Johnny on the head. 

“Feeling better?” Johnny asks him as he squeezes his shoulder. Simon just grunts in response bending down and burring his head in Johnny’s neck. Johnny whispers something too him quiet enough that you cant make it out with his head facing away from you. Simon stands back up coming over to you his hand cups your cheek bending down to plant a kiss on your lips. 

“How’s you head?” He asks as he makes his way into the kitchen. 

“Fine.” You respond looking over at Johnny he seems way more relaxed now, no longer playing with his wedding ring like a fidget toy, his arm laid over the back of the sofa. Simon comes over a glass of water in his hand and you move over so he can sit between you and Johnny. He puts the glass down and leans back. 

You lean into him and Johnny follows. He sighs his left arm resting on Johnny’s thigh, you pull your legs on the couch. It’s nice leaning up against Simon with Johnny, you can hear his heart beating and Johnny’s breathing from across you. It’s perfect, and you hoped you would have two more weeks of this. 

You always thought about the fact that they could be called up at any time but not you, you always had a schedule, you always knew when you had to work. Your hand reaches over to Johnny to grip his hand, he looks back up at you smiling, then his expression changes as you look him in the eyes. 

“What’s the matter love?” he asks sitting up, Simon follows turning to you for a second you’re confused then you blink and feel the tears run down your cheek. You open your mouth to speak but the words catch in your throat, it’s almost like you can’t breathe you swallow hard, but it just brings more tears. You throw yourself onto Simon’s chest as his arms wrap around you trying to hide the tears. Johnny gets up coming to sit next to you, his hand starts to rub your back.

“Talk to us.” Johnny says as he brushes hair behind your ear. “Was it about the phone call with Chloe earlier?” You shake your head on Simon’s chest.

“Stupid,” you say between sobs. “It’s so stupid.” Simon’s hands grip your shoulders holding you up, his eyes look you up and down. 

“It wasn’t Chloe, it was my deployment.” You say.

“That’s still 2 weeks away,” Johnny says pressing on the small of your back, letting out a sigh. You shake your head. 

“Three days,” You shrug. 

“Where?” Simon asks using his thumb to whip your tears away. 

“Syria” You reply. Simon brings your lips to his and kisses you deep, his arms move you into Johnny’s embrace, you lean up against him as Simon gets up picking his phone up off the coffee table. 

“Si?” Johnny says quietly as you bury your head into Johnny’s chest his arms wrapping round you as you sniffle. You hear Simon kiss Johnny. You hear the bedroom door close again as Johnny’s strokes your hair, he moves his body so he’s laid flat on the sofa and you scoot up his chest. He kisses your forehead. 

“Syria is nice, it’s warm at least, not like here.” He says, you look out the window it’s dark now but you can see the rain splashing on the window. 

The bedroom door slamming makes you jump Johnny pulls you further up on his chest. There is a blanket around you now. 

“I like the sun.” You say as you sniffle. He kisses your head, still stroking your hair. You close your eyes listening to his breathing as he tells you it’s all going to be okay. You want it to be okay, you want to believe him, overseas and it’s shortened your leave, they must be desperate, or maybe you’ve just been having too much luck. 

…

“It’s okay, go back to sleep.” Johnny’s voice hums in your ear, his breath hot on your cheek as he pulls the blanket over your shoulders. You’re still tired you don’t remember falling asleep, your body is heavy, you should not be tired, you’ve slept so much since yesterday. The feeling of Johnny’s warm arms around you, rubbing your back, his gentle kisses on your head, it’s enough to lull you back towards sleep. 

“How’d it go?” Johnny says quietly, you hear Simon sigh as he flops down on the recliner. 

“Whoever sent the order is high up.” Simon says, Johnny shushes him. Simon tuts. 

“So nothing we can do?” Johnny asks. 

“‘Fraid not.” Simon says quieter. 

“What about the reason for cutting her leave short?” Johnny asks as he kisses your head again. 

“Staffing issues.” Simon says, Johnny scoffs. There are a few moments of silence and you’re about to dip back into sleep when Johnny speaks up again.

“Think it had anything to do with the party?” Simon doesn’t say anything. 

“She’s going to a warzone.” Johnny says pulling you tighter. 

“She’s a soldier Soap.” Simon says, there’s a hint of something in his voice, anger, annoyance, sadness.  

“You know what I mean.” He says huffing. Simon sighs, Johnny’s fingers stroke your face hair being pushed behind your ears again. 

“I fecking love her Si,” Johnny says as you feel his breath on your cheek. Your heart skips a beat, luckily you’re tired enough your body doesn’t betray you keeping still.

“I know Johnny, I do too.” He sounds sad, you don’t get chance to think about it though your body heavy, breathing shallow. Hopefully it’s all a dream and you’ll wake up tomorrow with two weeks left to spend with Johnny and Simon. You’re not counting on it though. 

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[spectrechosts]

Vampire Lover

Continuation of Date Night, Willow adapts to being a little bit monstrous.

Full Series

Willow groans, rubbing her eyes.

"How are you feeling, sweetness?" Senna asks, and Willow groans again, louder.

"My vision is blurry and my head hurts. Is that normal?" She asks, and Senna smirks and lifts Willow's glasses off her face. Immediately, her vision is clear.

"Oh. Oh!" She squeaks, and then furrows her brow. "Oh, but I just got those frames…"

"We can replace the lenses." Senna says, kissing her on the forehead. "Any other problems?"

"Nope! Feelin' great!"

It's been four days since Alice gave her her blood, and she feels incredible. She zoomed down and back up eleven flights of stairs checking the mail earlier, just because she felt like it. She didn't even break a sweat.

"Wonderful."

Alice stumbles out of their bedroom, yawning loudly, and Senna drifts over to kiss her as well.

"Good evening, darling." She says, and Alice grunts. "Looking fresh as always."

"Sunset's not for another hour." She grumbles, nuzzling into Senna's shoulder. "You two wake up too early."

Willow bounces over to the two of them and joins their embrace.

"Evening Alice!" She says gleefully. "What are we doing tonight?"

"I'm going to work once the sun sets." Says Senna.

"I'm going back to sleep for another hour or two." Says Alice.

"What? No, c'mon. I have so much energy! Lets like, fight somebody, or run around in the woods, or something."

Alice cannot match her energy right now, and Senna just hums and breaks away to continue getting ready for work.

"I told you your blood would make her all feisty." She says, smug. "Go on, enrich your ghoul."

"Aaah. Fuck, okay, lemme think." Alice groans, pulling her phone out. "Camilla has some venom to sell. I can't get it while the sun's up, if you wanna-"

"On it!" Willow says, rushing to the door and putting her shoes on.

"Love? You'll need something to pay her with, yes?" Alice says, and Willow scampers back and waits for Alice to slowly count out a wad of bills. "Here."

Willow zooms off again, Alice watching her through half-lidded eyes.

"Car keys?"

"Gonna bike! Love you bye!"

She darts out the door, and Alice stands in place, barely awake.

"Willow, would- Oh, already gone?" Senna asks, and Alice nods.

"You think the excess energy will wear off before or after we're good to start fucking her again?"

"You can fuck her now, just no domme/sub stuff."

"Ehhh, we'd both be thinking it." Alice says. "You know us."

"Oh, the ordeals you must suffer through, to have an immortal girlfriend. Give her a month. Maybe two."

~

Willow races through the twilit streets, cold spring rain falling upon her.

Being half-dead makes her feel so alive. The wind through her hair, the rain on her skin, all the countless sounds and sights and smells of a busy city-

There is,

SO MUCH GODDAMN SHIT,

happening all around her, all the time. It's kind of maddening, overwhelming, suffocating. It's like she's seeing the world for the first time, and now she has to relearn how to tune out all the irrelevant stimuli. She has to focus.

Her mistr- Her girlfriend, asked her to do this. And she's doing it because she wants out of the house, and not because she has to obey her. She's so normal. She's so fucking normal right n-

Oh shit is that a kebab place? She is the hungriest she has EVER been. Where is it, she can smell it-

Okay back on the road, after a minor detour to buy five dürüm kebabs and also scarf two of them down out in front of the shop really really fast. Camilla won't mind. She can have one.

Only one.

The sun's almost fully set now, and her eyes adjust to the growing darkness like it's nothing as she skids to a stop in front of Camilla's apartment. She bounds down the stairs two at a time and knocks incessantly at her door, until Camilla cracks it open and peeks out.

"One sec."

She closes it again, unlatches the chain lock, and opens it fully.

"Wasn't expecting you so quick after sundown. Where's Alice?" She asks, as Willow glides past her into the apartment.

"Just me today!" She chirps. "Hi Sikka!"

"Hi human Willow!" Sikka says, and Willow smirks.

"Human Willow?" She says. "Are you suuuuure?"

Sikka slithers up to her and looks her over, flicks her tongue in the air.

"…Yes." She says. "Human Willow. Met before, likes to play with babies."

"So are you like, here to pay me, or what?" Asks Camilla.

"I- Yeah you've met me before, but don't you notice anything different?" Says Willow, holding her arms out.

Sikka looks at her blankly.

"Anything… Vampiric?" She prompts, and Sikka nods.

"Smell like dead Alice."

"Yes!"

"Always smell like dead Alice." Sikka says, tilting her head.

"Like I have the venom, I texted Alice about it." Says Camilla, shaking a jar of pink fluid.

"No! Well, yes, but- I'm a ghoul!"

"Like a ghost?" Asks Camilla.

"No! Like a half-vampire!"

"Like Blade from movies." Says Sikka, nodding.

"What?" Asks Willow.

"A half-vampire is a dhampir, like Blade. A ghoul is a kind of ghost." Camilla says. "Now- Venom?"

"Yeah yeah I have the money, here." Willow says, handing it over and stuffing the jar in her backpack alongside her kebabs. "Can we get back to my thing? I'm like, strong now! I don't need glasses!"

"Like Spider-Man from movies!" Says Sikka.

"N- Wait, yes actually. Exactly like that." Willow says, raising an eyebrow at Camilla. "Have you just been showing her early 2000s marvel movies?"

"Oh yeah, let me just hit the town with my giant snake girlfriend while I'm heavily eggnant." Camilla says, shrugging incredulously. "We had a lot of time to watch TV."

"So you watched Blade?" Willow asks, before doing a double take. "Did you just use the word eggnant???"

"Willow, I'm going to make you a deal." Camilla says carefully, eyes narrowed. "You don't ask any questions about that, and I won't examine what you think makes for good vampire media."

"…Deal."

[etoiline]

do you trust me

(read with characters and tags on AO3 instead)

Cal remembers Dathomir, and a particularly treacherous labyrinth of scarred walls and blood-red cliffs that he hadn’t been sure he would be able to traverse. He remembers missing his grip so badly that he tumbled down the rock face in a spin, only able to gain his footing at the absolute last moment so he can launch himself onto another ledge, and live to search another tomb.

He remembers, when Merrin finds him next, shortly after that embarrassing incident, wondering if she’s been watching him make a fool of himself. Cal can’t do much about his face reddening to the color of Dathomir’s sky, but he tries to cover it by asking Merrin what it's like to teleport and never be worried about taking a fall.

She smiles at him and his stomach swoops, almost like he was tumbling down that cliff again, and says, “It’s like wind through gravethorn, Jedi. Speed that cuts.” She does not elaborate.

Cal finds, now that he’s flying through space in her green-magic wake, that Merrin hadn’t needed any more descriptors. She’d asked him do you trust me, he’d said of course because he thought it was obvious and what are you up to before seeing that glittering portal, and she asks about trust again and what is he supposed to say but yes? And then she’d kissed him, sweet and sure and long enough that BD started cursing in Binary and shoving a little foot into his shoulder because there’s a karking Trident bearing down on them—

He’s the wind through gravethorn. Merrin’s magic cradles him but it does not protect him. He’s never flown so fast on his own, with no speeder beneath him, never fallen in a crystalline moment as the world slows around him, confident that the green-wreathed portal will catch him and yank him to another place. But the speed comes at a cost, debris tearing at his clothing and shrapnel slicing past his face, hot blaster bolts singeing far too close for comfort, tears ripped from his eyes. He doesn’t let any of that stop him from examining that monster of a machine, because it’s speed that will keep them from becoming nerf kebab on its piercing claws.

Merrin’s portals guide him to a weakness, a locked joint on a vicious limb, and Cal laughs as he latches onto it, vaults atop its metal hide, heedless of the sandy drop on either side. He won’t fall, not with the Force to guide his steps until his saber can slash deep into the mechanism, not with Merrin’s magic rushing past him in ribbons, waiting to catch him as he dives off the writhing machinery.

It’s exhilarating. Cal almost doesn’t feel like the thing is trying to destroy them, like this beast of metal and anger is simply a dancer in a esoteric ballet, a player in a planetary orchestra with the Force as the conductor. If the speed of the portals and the wall jumps didn’t steal his breath, Cal would laugh for the joy of it.

But every symphony has an end, and Merrin and Cal find theirs, the Trident looming ahead of them, leaving no time for Merrin to draft another portal.

“Nowhere left to run,” Merrin says, looking only at Cal. He hopes the luck from their kiss hasn’t run out.

“Then we stand together,” Cal says, letting his Force expand there atop the mesa, feeling Merrin’s green-hissing magick coalesce at his side, a complementary note to his fiery power, and he grits his teeth in a grimace. The Force and Dathomir’s smoky haze hang heavy among the sandy stones for a frozen second.

“Now or never,” Merrin says, and Jedi and Nightsister thrust their power at the Trident, her acid fog exploding its armor, his burning Force throwing the pieces back at the Imperial machine, the both of them keeping up the assault until the Trident collapses on itself, falling into the depths of the red canyon below.

The weight of the Force is suddenly gone from Cal’s hands, and he exhales, but Merrin says, “One last jump—and it’s a big one,” because they’re atop a mesa with no easy descent, and Cal follows the greensmoke trail of Merrin and her portals. He relishes the speed, whoops in the air, flinging his arms out in pure delight and relief, until they find solid ground in a grotto lit by the soft light of a green ray shield. Cal slides out of the blast of magic, skidding a little on the rock, and fetches up against Merrin’s side. He puts his hand on her arm, the both of them shaking with adrenaline and breathing hard. “How did you do that?” he says, awed.

“A ritual I learned on Dathomir. It is...taxing,” Merrin says, leaning into his hold. Cal gathers her into his arms, letting Merrin rest her head on his chest. He closes his eyes and remembers falling, and flying, and echoes of acid-green magick, and hopes he can fall again, as long as Merrin is there to catch him.

[isolavirtuosa]

That River in Egypt 8-14 of 21

[fanfiction] Dean / Cass

canon divergent AU from 15x19, Dean being Dean

Previous parts here.

- 8 -

“Sorry, all I’ve got is the couch and the blow-up mattress,” Donna said apologetically.

“You kiddin’?  This is perfect,” I assured her.

“Well it’s no memory foam…” she lamented.

“We’re just happy to have a place to stay that isn’t a crappy motel,” Sam put in.  “Thanks for putting us up, there was no way we were gonna make it back to Lebanon tonight.”

“Glad to have ya,” Donna beamed at us.  “I figure you can take the couch, and Dean and Cass can take the mattress?”

I froze.

“I don’t sleep,” Cass explained, giving Donna a polite smile while he glanced anxiously at me from the corner of his eye.

“Well, sure, but I figured ya might need a bit of a rest and a cuddle after that messy hunt of yours,” Donna barreled forward, oblivious.

Sam had his ‘oh shit’ face on.

“Did Sam tell you?” I asked, eyes narrowed.

Donna was taken aback by my tone.  “Tell me what, Deany?”

It was hard to stay mad with all that Minnesota nice pouring over me, but I managed.  “About me and Cass,” I gritted out.

“What?” she asked, starting to realize that she was in the middle of a minefield.  “No, no one told me?  I just have eyes?”

What the hell did that mean?

“I didn’t know it was a secret since you’re so… ya know, obvious about it and all.”

What the hell did that mean?!

“Gosh, I really stepped in it, didn’t I?” she said, starting to look distressed.

“It’s fine,” I said , moving towards the windows and staring out of it pointedly so I wouldn’t have to look at anyone else.  “Appreciate havin’ a place to stay,” I offered, which was all the smoothing over that I was capable of at the moment.

“Hey, Donna, think I can borrow your shower?” Sam blurted out.

“You betcha, hon’,” Donna said, though she didn’t sound quite as cheery as before, and that was on me.  “I’ll grab ya a towel, c’mon.”

I let out the breath I was holding when the two sets of footsteps disappeared down the hall.

“Dean.”

I didn’t turn around.

Cass turned me around for me, crushing our lips together.

And I clung to him like a man drowning.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead to mine.  “I hate when you do that,” he whispered.

Cass hated me, my panicked brain informed me.  “What, I didn’t mean to… Donna…”

“Dean,” he whispered, his nose nudging mine.  “I hate when you run off half-cocked, no plan, and almost get yourself killed.”

“Oh…”

“If Sam and I hadn’t gotten there in time-”

“But you did,” I assured him, all thoughts of me about to be shish kebabed by an angry wraith easily pushed aside.

“I need a rest and a cuddle,” he requested, sounding uncertain.  Like he wasn’t sure he could ask for that.

Was he allowed to ask for that?

“Of course, sweetheart,” I agreed, running my hand up and down the small of his back.  “I’ll take care of you.”

Cass gave me a little smile.  “I’d like that.”

I pulled away to change into my pjs.  I could probably use a shower, but that was what tomorrow was for.

Cass arranged the blankets on the air mattress and crawled under the covers.

I crawled in after him, curving my body around his and holding him close.  “Just for a little bit, okay?” I whispered, all my previous paranoia creeping back in.

“I just want to know that you’re here,” Cass replied.  “That you’re safe.”

“I’m here, Cass,” I promised, kissing the back of his neck.

He curled his hand over the one I had holding his waist, squeezing.

I promptly passed out.  Almost killed by wraiths and all that.  It was a long friggin’ day.

I woke up how I usually woke up, in an octopus-hold with Cass, but something felt different.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, still half-asleep, so I pressed lazy kisses to his neck instead.

“Good morning,” he rumbled at me, grabbing my ass like he did pretty much every morning to start revving my engine.

“I feel like crap,” I complained, but my hips were already starting to move.

“Then stop running headfirst into obvious traps,” Cass scolded me, but there was no bite to it as his hips moved lazily with mine.

“Yeah, yeah, blow me, Cass.”

“In front of your brother?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, I’m totally right here, guys,” Sam complained from the couch.

It took me a moment, but then I was throwing a snarky grin over at my brother.  “Well, maybe you can finally learn something.”

“All good, thanks,” he announced, hastily tossing his blanket over the back of the couch and getting up.  “I’m gonna go for a run.”

“Now?” I scoffed, looking at Donna’s kitschy clock hanging over the mantle, declaring it to not even be 7 yet.

“Yep, definitely now,” he decided, making his exit.

“He has the friggin’ energy to run when we just got finished runnin’ for our lives?” I complained into Cass’s neck.

“I believe his regular workouts keep him in shape so as to not… ‘feel like crap’ after a slight exertion,” he informed me.  “Also, in human years he is significantly younger than you.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” I complained.

“I’m not,” he replied, thoroughly groping me.

“Ya gotta cut that out,” I said, trying not to sound breathy.

“Why?” he asked, squinting down at me.  “Sam left.”

I snorted at that.  “Yeah, okay, but there’s no door on the living room, Sunshine.  Don’t think Donna's ready for the Cass full-frontal quite yet.”

“On the contrary, I think she would enjoy it,” he said, still squinting like he was thinking real hard.  “Jimmy kept this vessel in excellent condition.”

“Is that you bein’ cocky?” I asked, grinning.

“I’d fuck me,” he declared.  “I’d fuck me hard.”

I was dying.  “You did not just quote Buffalo Bill at me.”

“No, Dean, I did,” he explained.

“Shit, you’re a keeper,” I informed him, deciding it was time to make out like teenagers.

Cass seemed pleased, and was more than happy to reciprocate.

There was a loud noise that had both our heads shooting up.

Donna was sitting in the middle of the floor, obviously having tripped over Sam’s duffle bag when she tried sneaking through the living room to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Cass greeted her, hand still obviously groping my ass.

“Mornin’ there,” she said, trying to look anywhere but at us.

“Hey, Donna,” I said, easing away from Cass’s groping.

He gave me a very disappointed face.

“Thanks for letting us crash,” I said, then pressed a very quick kiss to Cass’s forehead before getting up.

“Of course,” she said, rolling herself back up on her feet.  “The more the merrier.”

I followed her into the kitchen.  “Hey, I’m sorry about last night.”

“No, hon’, that’s okay, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, I shouldn’t have,” I said firmly.  “I’m just not used to… talkin’ about it, ya know?”

We could finally look each other in the eye again.

“You two are cute,” she said, punching me on the shoulder.

“It’s not serious,” I said, rolling my eyes.

She gave me crazy eyes at that.

“It’s not,” I insisted, taking the coffee filter she handed me and putting it in the machine.

“Men,” she complained.

“Women,” I shot back.

Donna just gave me a knowing smile and poured the coffee beans into the machine.

- 9 -

I set my coffee on the table and went over to open the fridge, ready to rustle up something for breakfast, when I heard the familiar flapping of wings.

“Good morning, Dean.”

I whirled around, a grin already taking over my face.  “Hey.  Been a while.”

“Apologies, Jack needed me,” Cass said, giving me a rueful grin of his own.

“No worries, honey,” I hummed, sticking my finger into the knot of his tie and dragging him closer.  “Now gimme some sugar.”

“You usually take your coffee black, Dean.”

I bit my lip, trying not to let my grin get any stupider.  “Cass.”

“Oh,” he said, a little light bulb turning on in that weird, weird angel brain of his.  “You want to kiss.”

“That’s the idea, yeah,” I agreed, leaning down.

Cass met me halfway and proceeded to back me into the fridge with his enthusiasm.

The enthusiasm lasted quite a while and showed no signs of letting up, until an interrupting Sasquatch cleared his throat loudly and complained, “uh, guys?  Need to make my shake.”

Cass pulled his lips away from mine which was really friggin’ annoying and I chased after him.

“Apologies,” was all he could get out before my mouth was on his again.

Then I found myself being lifted off the ground, spun around, and plunked on the island.

I gave Cass a dazed look.

“Sam needs to make his shake,” he explained, but then he was kissing me again, so I just went with it.

Sam did his thing, not that I was really paying attention to him, what with making out with Cass on the kitchen island and all.

“You have a bedroom, ya know,” he gave as his parting shot before finally exiting the kitchen and leaving us alone.

“Cass,” I mumbled into his mouth.

“Dean,” he moaned back.

I felt a little smug about that, but I pulled back the tiniest fraction.  “Honey, I’m tryin’ to talk to you.”

“Why?” he asked, looking completely confused.

“Good question,” I hummed, giving him a quick smooch.  “But Princess Hair was right?”

“About?” Cass asked, moving to my neck since I insisted on continuing to talk.

“Mm that’s nice, sweetheart.”

He did it a little more.

I groaned fingers digging into his back.  “I uh… shit… okay, um…”

“Why are you still talking?” he complained, doing really nice things with his mouth.

“I don’t knoooow,” I moaned, eyes squeezed tight.  “Oh, uh… bedroom?  We have a bedroom.”

Cass peered up at me, eyes narrowed in determination.  “I like it here.”

This friggin’ angel really wanted to get freaky in the middle of the kitchen.

Was I the prude in this relationship???

Not that it was a relationship relationship.

“Down boy,” I scolded him with a nervous laugh.

He hesitated.

I tried not to feel shy, because I hated that, I absolutely hated that, but oh well, here we were.  “Wanna blow you,” I said quietly.

Cass’s breath seemed to catch, not that he actually needed to breathe.  “I’d like that.”

“So, bedroom?” I prodded him.

Cass blinked up at me.

“Now,” I said, adding some urgency to my tone.

Which was a mistake, because suddenly the world was spinning and my stomach was turning and then we were in the middle of my room.

“Goddammit, Cass.”

“You seemed to be in a hurry,” he said sheepishly, easing me down onto my feet.

“You know I hate flying.”

“I seem to also be in a hurry…”

I grinned at that, even as another wave of nausea hit me.  “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

He squinted at me.  “So you have no virtue?”

I cracked up.  “Got me there.”

“Speaking of no patience and no virtue…” he trailed off, looking down at the bulge in his pants, then batting his eyes up at me.

“You’re getting a little shameless,” I informed him, going for my nightstand to grab a condom, “and I like it.”

“Corrupting angels seems to be one of your turn-ons,” Cass mused.

I turned around to tell him the bad news, but apparently he’d graced his clothes away while I had my back turned and was standing there completely naked.  “Uhhh mmm yes?”

“Eloquent,” he said, eyebrows quirking.

I held up the empty box of condoms for him since my mouth didn’t want to work.

His whole face creased in concentration, trying to solve this seemingly unsolvable problem.  “I’ll go procure-”

“You don’t get sick, right?” I interrupted him, mouth working again ‘cause of course I was about to blurt out something stupid.

Cass looked annoyed at the interruption.  He really was a total horndog now.  “No, I do not get sick.  What does that have to do with any-”

“So that applies to like, ya know, all diseases?” I asked.  “Venereal diseases?” I added for good measure.

“Yes, Dean, I am unable to contract venereal diseases,” he said, his squint intensifying.

“Cool,” I said.  “Cool, cool, cool.  So, uh… don’t really need the rubbers then, yeah?”

He looked taken aback.  “We don’t?”

I took a step closer, trying to build my confidence.

Was this what I wanted?

I stared at Cass’s very naked body and knew this was absolutely positively what I wanted, so I gave him a nod.  “You’re not gonna get pregnant, so…”

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.  “I thought we were using them to contain the mess.”

“Oh, sweetheart, the mess is half the fun.”

“So we’ve only been having half the fun….?”

“Afraid so.”

He was suddenly right in front of me, gazing determinedly into my eyes.  “I would like to have all of the fun now, please.”

“I gotcha,” I assured him, sinking to my knees.

Cass dragged his fingers through my hair, looking down at me with a mixture of affection and arousal and wonder, and yeah.

We were doing this.

- 10 -

“They’re gonna be here soon, so why don’t we just put them in Cass’s room?” Sam suggested.

“We have like a hundred rooms, why don’t you set up another one?” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Do you not remember what a pain in the ass it is to set up the beds?”

“The itty bitty bed a little heavy for baby?” I asked, eyes focused on the onion I was chopping.

“Dude, when was the last time Cass even set foot in that room?”

“I don’t know his life,” I said dismissively.  “It’s his room, anyway, so why are you asking me?”

“’Cause you’re here and he’s somewhere up in heaven, doing angel stuff?”

“Did you try calling?”

“Yes, Dean,” Sam ground out, sounding exasperated.

“Did you try praying?”

“Obviously, yes.”

“Oh, well sometimes he ignores you,” I said, then magnanimously looked up towards the ceiling and prayed, “oh Castiel, angel of the most boring day of the week, Sammy has a question for you.”

We both waited.

“No answer,” I said with a shrug.

“Okay, so can you answer-”

My phone started ringing.

I grinned as I answered, mostly pleased that Cass had ignored Sam but answered for me, but also just the teeniest littlest bit pleased to hear his voice after a couple of days.  “Hey, Cass.”

“Hello, Dean.  What did Sam need?”

“He wants to know if Claire and Kaia can sleep in your room while they’re here,” I explained.

There was a pause.  “…in our room…?”

I swallowed.  Oh.  “No, uh… no, you know, the room we set up for you when you first moved in here.”

“…that room?  I haven’t set foot in there for over a year, I’d hardly consider it mine.  The girls are welcome to it.”

Over a year?  Were Cass and I living together?  Shit.  “Uh, cool, yeah, great, uh… yeah.”

“Dean…” he said, sounding amused.

“Yeah, um, okay, are you coming home soon?” I asked, not that I cared, because we were going to be busy with our house guests.

“As soon as I can,” he assured me.

I glanced at Sam, who was pretending he was not listening but of course he was, so I turned my back to him and murmured softly into the receiver, “I miss you.”

I could hear the smile in Cass’s voice as he echoed back at me, “I miss you, too.”

“Say hi to Jack, okay?”

“Of course.  I love you.”

“Yeah, uh…” I cleared my throat, feeling the heat rushing to my face.  “Later, buddy.”

“Later, ‘dude’.”

I snorted as I hung up the phone, then returned to my onions.

“…so…?” Sam prodded me.

“Well, Cass said that since your weak delicate girl muscles can’t handle putting together a bed, Claire and Kaia are welcome to use his room.”

“I’m sure those were his exact words,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Word for word.”

Sam scoffed at that, and all was right with the world.

I finished making the burgers, Sam finished changing the sheets in Cass’s (former?) room, and the girls finally came bursting through the front door.  They were here to do research on Dark Kaia and her spear, and they were staying for however long it took.

I got everyone fed, Eileen joining us for dinner, and then we moved to the library for brews and books.

“Why do you have so many books?” Claire complained.

“Funny thing about libraries,” I mused, happy that there was someone who hated research as much as I did.  “Full of books.”

“Ugh,” she groaned.  “Fuck books.  Want another beer?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I said, shaking the beer I’d been nursing all night, a little bit still sloshing around in the bottle.

Claire blinked at that, then shrugged and got up.  “Anyone else want one?”

“I’ll take one, thanks,” Sam said, not looking up from his laptop.

‘Nerd,’ I mouthed to Eileen.

‘Total nerd,’ she agreed.  ‘But it’s hot.’

I made a face at her and she laughed.

“You’re dating the biggest nerd of them all,” Claire announced, before disappearing out of the library to go get the beers.

I sputtered for a bit.  “We’re not dating,” I finally declared as decisively as I could.

Sam and Eileen both leaned back in their chairs, their expressions clearly saying, ‘here we go again’, and Kaia looked between them, intrigued.

“We’re best friends,” I explained to her, “with benefits.”

“I mean, aren’t most romantic relationships between best friends?” Kaia reasoned.

“No,” I scoffed.  “Who wants to be in a relationship with their best friend?”

“Claire and I are best friends,” she said with a shrug.

“Eileen and I are best friends,” Sam rushed to put in.

I rolled my eyes.  “It ain’t the same.”

“It’s totally the same,” Claire announced, back a lot quicker than I’d thought she’d be, and already being annoying as she passed out beers.

“It’s not,” I protested.  “You don’t fuck your best friend.”

They all looked at me like I was an idiot.

“I mean that you don’t fuck them romantically,” I explained, because obviously they were all idiots.  “That’s why they’re your best friend.”

“Oh, boy,” Claire marveled.

“Dean is known to frequently visit that river in Egypt,” Sam explained to a confused-looking Kaia.

That made her look even more confused.

“De Nile,” he clarified.

‘Wha?’ she mouthed.

Claire was now looking similarly confused.

I smirked at my brother and his complete failure to communicate with today’s youth.

“The Nile?  Denial?” he tried desperately.

“Oh,” Kaia said, frowning.  “But who says ‘de’ instead of ‘the’?”

“Yeah, Sammy,” I tsked at him.

“Can we get back on topic here?” he asked, looking around the room desperately for an ally.

Unfortunately, he had three.

“Yeah, um, so you really don’t think you and Cass are dating?” Claire put in.

“We’re not,” I said flatly.

“Okay, but you like go on dates all the time.”

“We don’t go on dates, we just hang out like normal best friends,” I clarified as calmly as I could, trying not to lose my temper over this idiotic line of questioning.

“You go out to eat together.”

“Friends gotta eat.”

“Cass is an angel, so technically no, he doesn’t have to eat,” Sam put in.

“Shut up, Sammy.”

“You go to the movies,” Claire continued.

“Again, something platonic friends do all the time...” I grunted, really, really trying not to yell.

“Dinner and a movie, literally the quintessential date night.”

“I go with Sam to dinner and movie, are we dating?”

“You took Cass on that bee-keeping Groupon.”

“He likes bees!” I snapped.

“Gettin’ a little testy there, Winchester,” Kaia put in.

“Why do you all have to romanticize this thing with Cass?” I growled.  “We’re best friends, that’s it, end of story.”

“They’re living together,” Sam put in unhelpfully.

“They have to buy a new bottle of hand lotion every time we go to Walmart,” Eileen put in less helpfully.

Claire and Kaia seemed confused.

Eileen made a lewd gesture with her hand.

“Right, penises,” Claire said, wrinkling her nose.

“Enough!”

Everyone turned to me, unimpressed.

“We’re not talking about this anymore,” I said, downing the rest of my beer, then getting up to get another, and screw them all very much.

When I came back they were comparing notes on their dream hauntings, because that was a normal thing that hunters talked about together, not gossip about who was ‘dating’ who.

Not that anyone was dating anyone.

- 11 -

“I believe under the law that we are common-law married,” Cass said, squinting at me.

I proceeded to perform the most spectacular spit-take to have ever been performed in the history of spit-takes.

“Dude, gross,” Sam complained, wiping at his shirt with a napkin.

“Get over it,” I said dismissively.  “You’re gonna have to explain that one, angel,” I stated, glaring into Cass’s eyes.

He shrugged, leaning forward to slurp his milkshake through a straw.

“Castiel, you can’t just say shit like that and then act all innocent,” I spat out through gritted teeth.

“I’m not that innocent,” he said with a grin.

“Really?  Britney?”

His grin widened as he returned to his milkshake.  “We are legally eligible to be married.”

“Uhhh, okay, but so are a lotta people?”

“We are considered to be a married couple by our friends.”

“Just because Jody said-”

“Sam?” the jerk interrupted me, turning to my brother.

“I don’t want to get involved,” he said, shifting in the squeaky diner booth and looking between us almost nervously.  “But uh, yeah, you two totally act like an old married couple.”

Cass gestured with his hand as if to say, ‘see?’

“Yeah, but no one actually thinks we’re married,” I protested.

Sam made one of his faces that said he disagreed.

Cass just slurped his milkshake.

“Whatever,” I muttered, wiping up the last of my spit-take from the table, and shoving the wet napkins away from me.

“Can I getcha a refill?” our waitress asked, offering me an amused grin.

“That’d be great, sweetheart,” I said, and when our eyes met, there was a little spark.  Which was kind of amazing, because lately whenever I tried to flirt with the waitress I always got an eyeroll or a look of disgust and a rant about the patriarchy.

“Comin’ right up,” she said, and then she honest-to-god winked at me.

Usually Sam was mildly annoyed with me when I was on the prowl, but he actually looked angry this time.  “Really?  In front of Cass?”

“What does Cass care?” I protested, while feeling like an asshole.  But why did I have to feel like an asshole?  I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

And Cass was just drinking his milkshake, for all the world looking like he couldn’t care less.  “A dog’s gotta bark,” he declared with a shrug.

Sam let out a startled burst of laughter.

“I’m sorry, am I the dog in this situation?” I demanded.

“If you have to ask…”

“Jackass,” I muttered.

Cass’s hand nudged mine on the seat.

“Here ya go, one spittle-free Coke,” the waitress said, passing the drink across the table.

“Just the way I like it,” I accepted it with a grin.

Sam rolled his eyes.

“If you need anything else, just let me know,” she added.

“Sure thing,” my eyes dropped to her ample bosom where her name tag was, “Katie.”

She walked away with an extra swish in her step, and my eyes followed obediently.

“Satisfied?” Cass asked, slurping at his milkshake.

“How can I be-” I started to say, but then quickly cut off the very dirty thing I was about to say with a glance at Cass’s hand clasped with mine, resting on the seat between us.  I didn’t even remember taking his hand.

“How can you be…?” he prompted me.

I was being a dick.  “Yeah,” I said softly.  “I’m satisfied.”

Cass’s expression softened.

“Just needed to bark a little,” I assured him.

“I don’t mind.  I know who you’re going home with.”

“Pretty confident there, buddy.”

“I’m really good in bed,” he deadpanned.

I cracked up while Sam pretended to gag.  “Yeah, can’t argue with that,” I agreed, finding myself leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Cass looked smitten, touching my cheek gently.

“Ahem.”

Oh, fuck, I just kissed Cass in public.

In front of all these strangers.

In front of the waitress I’d been flirting with like two minutes ago.

In front of Sam’s salad.

“Always gay or taken,” Katie sighed.  Her eyes met Cass’s as she said, “sorry about that, hon.”

“Nothing wrong with admiring the view,” he offered.

I squinted at him.  ‘The view?’ I mouthed.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he mouthed back.

I rolled my eyes because no one needed to see me blush.

“It is a nice view,” Katie agreed.  “I’ll be sad to see it go, but I won’t mind watching it leave.”

Was Katie my soulmate?

“’Cause of your butt,” Cass supplied.

Yeah, no, Cass was…

Cass was…

Cass was quoting The Office and being kinda possessive, but we didn’t need to use the s-word here.

I left Katie a very nice tip, and made sure to walk nice and slow to the exit.

- 12 -

Me and Cass were curled up against the headboard, watching Get Smart.  His head was resting on my shoulder, and I couldn’t help constantly glancing down at him.

“How you doin’?” I asked, nudging my nose into his hair.

“Fine since the last time you asked,” he informed me, not looking up from the laptop.

“No need for sarcasm,” I complained, fixing my own gaze back on Maxwell Smart and his antics.

“Dean, you have asked me that question six times since the episode started.”

“Yeah, well… yeah…” I concluded.

He rubbed my thigh absently in a completely non-sexy way, like he was trying to pacify me without actually interrupting the episode.

I tried to let it go.

“Okay, but he stabbed you,” I complained, apparently not letting go.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Cass murmured.

“Wasn’t a big deal?!” I repeated, getting more agitated.  “The nutcase angel stabbed you with an angel blade!”

He sighed, finally turning his face towards me.  “I’m fine, Dean.”

“Yeah, but…”

His gaze was patient.

“…you almost weren’t,” I spit out, trying not to let the words tear me apart.

“Dean.”

I couldn’t seem to unclench my jaw.

Cass tilted his head up, pressing a feather-light kiss to my cheek.

I cleneched harder.

“Shhh,” he murmured, like I was some frightened animal.

Maybe I was.

“I’m alright,” he whispered, pressing his lips lightly along my jawline.  “I’m alive.”

I closed my eyes, breathing out harshly.

He redirected my face towards him, and I could feel him staring at me even with my eyes shut.

I didn’t want to face him.

Cass pressed his lips to mine, unmoving, not a kiss, but weirdly comforting.

“Cass,” I whispered, my lips moving against his mouth.

“I know,” he assured me.

“But you don’t,” I choked out.  “You’ve never had to… you don’t know what I’m like when you…  You don’t know.”

“Oh, Dean,” he said softly, reaching up to cradle my face.

I caught his hands, holding them to my skin.  “I can’t go through that again,” I whispered, then tried to swallow the words back down.

Cass was quiet, hands still pressed warm to my cheeks.

I looked down, to the side, up, anywhere but into those warm, sympathetic eyes.  “Don’t need your damn pity,” I muttered.

“It’s not pity,” he said.  “How do you think I feel every time you throw yourself to the lions?  With Amara?  Michael?”

“Okay, but I didn’t die, I wasn’t gone,” I muttered petulantly.

Cass rolled his eyes.  “Metatron?”

“I was barely dead like even a day,” I protested.

“You were resurrected as a demon!”

“I was around.”

“You were ‘around’?” Cass asked, sounding exasperated.  “Is this making you feel better?”

“Yeah, kinda,” I said, giving him a little grin.

“You are incorrigible,” he informed me.

“I know you are, but what am I?” I taunted him, hooking a finger in his tie and loosening it.

“Have we concluded the ‘talking’ part of the evening and moved on to the ‘sexy’ part?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at me.

“It’s always the sexy part with you an’ me, baby.”

“Dean.”

I started unbuttoning his shirt.  He hadn’t changed into his sweatpants and t-shirt like usual after he came back from heaven, and that suddenly had me thinking.  “Does it still hurt?”

“A bit,” he admitted.

Was I really up for this?

I slid his shirt off his shoulders, then inched up his undershirt.  A shallow cut stretched along his rib cage, but something looked wrong about it.  I pressed my fingers lightly to the skin under it, and it was hot to the touch.

Cass winced, and I quickly pulled my hand away.

“It’s okay,” he tried to reassure me.

Oh, no, no, no, I did not like this, nope, not working, I was gonna…

“It’s okay,” he repeated more firmly, taking my hand and placing it over the wound without so much as a blink.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” I whispered, feeling the heat and the blood and the wrongness against my skin.

“I trust you,” he replied easily.

I let out a shuddering breath before leaning in to look at it up close.

It really didn’t look like much, but a little deeper, and…

Why was it so hard to breathe all of the sudden?

Cass ran his fingers through my hair, stroking soothingly.

A strangled sound tried to claw it’s way out of my throat, so I pressed my lips just above the wound instead.

Cass gasped at that, but his fingers stayed steady in my hair, and I got the impression that it was an appreciative gasp, not a pained one.

I did it again, and his fingers grasped my hair, tugging lightly.  That made me feel calmer for some reason.  “You know how I feel about you, right?” I mouthed into his skin.

“Of course,” he replied.

I mapped my way across his ribcage.

“It’s nice to hear sometimes, though.”

I paused, not daring to look up because I knew he’d have that look, that damn look he got that was full of love and and patience but also disappointment and longing for everything I wasn’t giving him.

His touch gentled.

“I love you,” I whispered, knowing my voice was barely audible.

He let out a breath that he didn’t need to take in the first place.  “I love you, too.  So very much.”

“Good,” I mumbled, feeling embarrassed.  “So don’t go dyin’ on me.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to have ‘God’ on our side,” he pointed out.  “Jack has said that he doesn’t want to interfere, but he is a Winchester after all.”

“He always brings you back to me,” I agreed, suddenly needing to throw my arms around his waist and hold him tight.

Cass hissed, and I sheepishly eased my hold away from his wound.

“Come up here,” he said, both hands gripping my biceps and guiding me where he wanted me.

“Sorry, I just needed ta be... close,” I mumbled.

“Me, too,” he assured me, wrapping his arms around me and tucking his head under my chin.

I hugged him more carefully this time.  “I love you,” I repeated, almost above a whisper.

It was nice to hear sometimes.

It was nice to say sometimes.

Baby steps.

- 13 -

“Dammit, Cass, how many times do I hafta tell ya?” I growled, slamming the empty coffee pot on the shelf.  “You drink the last cup, you make a new pot.”

“I thought you were finished, seeing as you already had 2 cups,” he replied all sassily, and then took a long sip of his coffee to add insult to injury.

“That ain’t the point-”

“I apologize for not asking if you needed a third cup of coffee.”

“It ain’t a real apology when you gotta use a qualifier.”

“Dean, chill out,” Sam said, rolling his eyes.  He was sitting next to Cass at the table, also nursing a cup of coffee like a smug bastard.  “You’re lookin’ kinda twitchy for a guy goin’ for another hit of caffeine.”

“Hey, do I ever leave you with an empty pot?” I snarled at him.

Sam held his hands up innocently.

“Exactly, so Cass needs to get his ass over here and make a new pot.”

Cass just raised an eyebrow at me, while Sam looked miffed.

“Dude, don’t talk to your boyfr-”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“It’s fine, Sam,” Cass said, still not moving to get up.

I glared at him.

“Dean is attempting to assert his dominance,” he continued.

I paused at that.

“Oh,” Sam said with a knowing nod.

“No, stop right there,” I interjected.  “None of your nerd talk.”

“So you’re not trying to ‘prove your manhood’ after last night?” Cass asked with a challenging glint in his eye.

“What?” I asked, not sounding at all frazzled.  “Last night?”  My voice didn’t go up an octave.  “Nothing happened last night,” I asserted convincingly.

“I don’t think I wanna know,” Sam said, going back to his coffee.

“’Cause there’s nothing to know,” I declared.

“Dean is bothered that I am more sexually dominant than he is,” Cass carried on like no one else had spoken.

I scoffed at that.  “Yeah, no.  That’s not…  No, because I’m…  So you see…”

Sam looked very unconvinced, and Cass was sitting there like the words coming out of his mouth weren’t absolutely insane.

“You’re deflecting from the real issue here!” I finally declared, waving the coffee pot around.

Sam snorted.  “Dude, you used to brag about letting chicks tie you up and smack you around.  Don’t know why you’re bein’ so cagey about your kinks now.”

“How am I being cagey?” I complained, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I do not ��smack’ Dean ‘around’,” Cass said with a frowny squint.

I groaned, but something I didn’t realize I’d been holding onto suddenly released.  “Cass, man, ya gotta learn subtlety.”

“Huh?”

“Ya kinda give the game away when you say you don’t do the one thing but don’t comment on the other…”

“Oh…” he said, his squint getting squintier.  “Apologies.”

“Nah, Sammy’s right,” I admitted, sitting down at the table across from them.  “I own my kinks.  So, last night-”

“I do not want to know,” Sam cut me off, enunciating each word carefully and precisely.

“But don’t you want to talk about our issues?” I asked, batting my eyes at him.

“They’re not my issues,” he stated firmly.

“Exactly, so mind your damn business.”

Sam sighed loudly.

“Dean.”

I turned to my traitorous angel.

He was frowning all disapprovingly.

I thought about apologizing for being a dick.

I thought about the vulnerability of not being able to move, of not being able to see.

I thought of Cass, gentle, strong, taking care of me-

I didn’t need to be taken care of.

Yep, that was the anger talking.

“I shouldn’ta yelled at you,” I conceded, letting my eyes flit over to Cass’s.

“No,” he agreed, “you shouldn’t have.”  He was waiting for more.

“…my bad…?” I offered.

“Dean,” he said in his most disapproving tone.

But then I realized he was giving me sexy eyes.

I swallowed.  “I won’t do it again?”

“Dean,” he sighed, “you know I do not abide lying.”

“I’ll try my best not to do it again?” I offered.

“Better,” he agreed, head tilting slightly.

My lips felt dry, so my tongue darted out to wet them.

Cass’s eyes tracked the movement in what some might consider a predatory manner.

“I’m sorry,” I stated clearly.

His smile lit up his entire face.  “Thank you, Dean,” he said, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand, before passing me his coffee.

I took a grateful sip and immediately regretted it.  “Jesus, Cass, is there even coffee in this cup?” I complained, tasting sugar, milk, and not a whole lot else.

His face clouded over again, though there was still that glint in his eyes.  “One would think that you actually want me to get angry and punish you.”

I choked a little on the milk going down my throat.  “Punish me?” I sputtered.

Cass just arched an eyebrow at me.

“Fuck,” I breathed out.

Sam cleared his throat.

Shit, we shouldn’t be doing this in the kitchen.

In front of Sam’s frou frou smoothie.

But I was kinda invested.  “You have somethin’ in mind?” I asked, then swallowed.  “A punishment, I mean.”

“I have something in mind,” was all he said.

“Fuck.”

Cass looked me up and down, shrugged, then stood up.

I watched him, my mouth kinda gaping open like a fish.

He started to leave.

Sam was staring intensely at his smoothie.

“Dean?” Cass called over his shoulder.

“Yeah, c-coming!” I stuttered, rushing to my feet and knocking over my chair in the process.

“Not today you’re not,” he informed me before disappearing out the door.

I froze in my efforts to pick up my chair.  “Fuck,” I breathed out, then decided to leave the chair on the floor and my brother traumatized as I chased after Cass.

And maybe tomorrow I would take it out on him again, or maybe tomorrow would finally be the day I realized none of this masculinity-dominance-bullshit mattered.

We’d have to wait and see.

- 14 -

“Yeah, but just picture it,” I told Cass, pushing the door to the bunker open and clomping down the stairs.  “It’s angel versus Angel, one’s a servant of God and all that crap, the other is a total douchebag, who will win?”

“Dean, I’m not going to have a cage match with Criss Angel,” Cass stated flatly, dashing all my dreams.

“But you could definitely take him.”

“Being a ‘douchebag’ is not a crime worthy of heavenly retribution.”

“It should be.”

“Oh, hi, guys,” Eileen said, leaning against the table and casually holding a book over what were definitely her bare breasts.

I tilted my head to the side a little, thinking the change in angle might give me a better view.

“Dean,” Cass complained.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” I complained right back at him.

Cass sighed loudly.

“So,” I said, clapping my hands together cheerfully.  “Sammy here?”

“He’s around,” Eileen agreed with a nod.

“Awesome,” I said, still trying to see behind the book.

Cass smacked me in the arm.

I held my hands up innocently.

“Thought you two wouldn’t be back until tomorrow,” Eileen commented.

“Oh, yeah, the hunt was a total bust, just some kids with too much eyeliner,” I explained.  “Figured we’d drive straight back and avoid the crappy motel.”

“Good thinking,” she said.

I wondered if her arms were getting tired, because that was one heavy-looking book.

“Well, we apologize for the intrusion,” Cass said, his hand going to my lower back and guiding me forward.  “We are headed to the ‘Dean Cave’ for pizza and a film.”

I glanced down at the pizza box in my hands, then looked back at Eileen and her tireless arms.  “Yeah, we’re gonna watch Giant, so we should be down there for 3 hours or so.  In case you and Sammy wanted to continue engaging in, ya know, library banging.”

“Dean,” Cass groaned, pushing me forward a little more roughly than necessary.

“Thanks,” Eileen said, and I had to hand it to her, her composure didn’t break even once.  Sammy must have been freaking out, wherever he was off hiding.

I would have looked for him, but Cass was being very insistent that we move along.

In the Dean Cave, I decided to take one of the recliners since those long drives were starting to be hell on my back.  I plopped the pizza box on the arm of the chair and opened it, while Cass took the other recliner.

“Can you put in the movie?” I requested, holding out the DVD.

“Of course,” he said, giving me a once-over that said he knew my back was bothering me.

“I’m kinda sore,” I decided to admit, and immediately warmth was flooding down my spine as Cass brushed his fingers along the back of my hand, taking the DVD.

“Thanks, honey,” I said, settling more comfortably into the recliner.

“Of course.”

“Youwan sompizzuh?” I asked, a piece of pizza hanging out of my mouth as I held the box out to him.

“Yes, thank you,” he said, returning from putting the DVD in to accept a piece.  “Also, that is disgusting.”

I flashed him a grin, making sure he could see all the chewed-up food in my mouth.

He shook his head at me, but he couldn’t hide his own smile.

“You’re gonna love this one,” I told him, fixing my eyes on the TV.

“I do enjoy this period of cinema,” he agreed.  “Dean?”

“Mm?”

“I’ve been… thinking…”

“That explains the burning smell.”

“Dean.”

I smacked his arm, still grinning.

“I… I think that Eileen and Sam may need more privacy,” he said slowly.

“Uhhh, then they can get a room?” I suggested.

“That’s not quite what I meant.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.  “The movie’s startin’.”

Cass flicked his hand and the DVD paused.

So this was a serious conversation, then.

Something churned unpleasantly in my stomach.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he began.

“About Sam an’ Eileen gettin’ a room?” I tried to joke, forcing a grin.

“About… Dean, there’s a house in the suburbs of Lebanon,” he said.  “It’s small, but there’s a large yard and a nice garage-”

“I’m sorry, a house?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes, it’s very-”

“You’re gonna buy Sam and Eileen a house?” I asked, because I must be misunderstanding something.

“Not for them,” he said, shaking his head.

It hit me then.  Hard.  “What the hell do you need a house for?” I growled, feeling the anger rise up like an old familiar friend.  “You don’t even gotta sleep or any of that shit.”

Cass started squinting at me, so I gave him my profile.  “Well, I thought it would be nice to start a garden-”

“Oh, okay, a garden,” I scoffed at him.  “You’re gonna run away to start a friggin’ garden.”

“Dean,” he sighed loudly.  “I wish you would allow me to finish speaking before rushing to conclusions.  The house would be for us.”

My anger immediately deflated into confusion.  “Us?”

“Yes, you and me,” he said, picking up the pizza box from the arm of the chair and setting it on the floor.  He sat in its place, resting his arm along the back of the recliner and leaning closer.  “It would be nice to have our own place.  The garage is spacious enough for two cars, so you would be able to tend to Baby, and as I mentioned, there is space for a garden, and there is a slightly creaky but charming swing on the porch that would be pleasant to sit on in the evenings and-”

“Slow down, man,” I stopped him, resting a hand on his knee.  “Cass, c’mon, the bunker is home.”

“I know that,” he said.  “But you are good at creating homes, Dean, and I think that you could create a new home in this house, because it’s just what we need, it has sunlight, Dean, sunlight, because humans need sunlight-”

I was starting to realize that Cass’s run-on sentences were a sign of how nervous he was.

“Okay, honey, but like I said, slow down,” I urged him, rubbing his knee.  “This is kinda outta left field.”

“Sorry, I just… I want this,” he blurted out.

I still hadn’t quite caught up, but Cass wanted something.

Cass, who willingly sat through whatever movie I chose.  Who let me listen to my music at whatever volume I wanted.  Who ate whatever I put in front of him.

Who, if I told him to jump, would level me with an exasperated glare, but then begrudgingly ask, ‘how high?’

Cass, who never asked me for anything.

Who let me say that dates weren’t dates, that sex was just for fun, that we weren’t friggin’ common law married (because that one was true).

Cass wanted something.

I just wasn’t sure it was something I could give.

[amphxtrite]

pietro maximoff x fem! reader

warnings: being picked up, tooth-rotting fluff (literally)

summary: pietro goes on his first camping trip.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: thank you to @sweetandsunny for the writing prompts that helped me write this!! ly sunny <3

translations: printsessa- princess, krasivaya- beautiful, milashka- cutie, dorogoy- darling.

———————————————————————————

“Finally Friday.” You yawn to yourself as you collapse onto your bed, after a long week of helping out the team and training, it was time to kick back, relax and-

“Hello Printsessa!”

Oh right, you smirk to yourself, peaking one eye open to see your speedster boyfriend standing at your doorway, a giddy smile on his face.

“Hey Piet.” You murmur, allowing yourself a small smirk as his eyes bounce back and forth from the spot in bed beside you and your eyes, subtly asking for permission.

“Oh alright, come here.” You giggle, opening your arms and immediately feeling Pietro’s body next to your and his arms around your torso.

A content sigh leaves his lips.

“Dorogoy, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He murmurs, closing his eyes and snuggling himself closer to your chest.

You smile to yourself and press a peck to Pietro’s blonde hair as fatigue takes over your form.

Now it was time to-

“Okay! If the clothes are off, put them back on, if the lips are locked, unlock them because dad’s here!” A voice suddenly yells, catching both you and Pietro off guard.

You yelp, and sit up suddenly to see your father covering his eyes and standing by the door he just kicked open.

“Ugh, open your eyes dad, we aren’t doing anything.” You groan, falling back down.

“Yes Clint, we were only sleeping!” Pietro chimes, suddenly across the room from you.

“Well it doesn’t matter, get your bag kid, we're going camping!” Clint cheers, throwing his fists in the air.

“And speedy can come too, why not.” Clint shrugs, causing Pietro’s eyes to widen. “I-I don’t want to intrude-”

“Dad, it’s Friday, we’ve been working all week, can’t we go another time?” You plead, finally sitting up.

“Sorry kiddo, but it’s Barton weekend number one, and your siblings and you agreed you would get the first weekend.” The archer smirks, looking at his daughter.

You glance at your calendar and sure enough the yearly event posted on the date was ‘weekend with dad.’

The little voice in your head cheers sarcastically.

“Fine, I’ll get packed.” You murmur, standing and grabbing your overnight bag from the floor.

“That’s the spirit!” Clint whoops.

“I should probably-”

Clint’s smile drops.

“Not so fast blondie, get your bags packed, you’re going.” Your father says sternly, patting the Avenger on the back on his way out of the room.

“You better listen, last time I told him no he didn’t make me waffles for six months.” You shudder.

Pietro’s jaw drops, “not the waffles.”

A blue blue went out and back into your room as Pietro returns with a bag slung over his shoulder and wearing clothes a little more suited for the wilderness.

You laugh and shake your head.

“Mind helping me Pietro?” You suggest.

“Of course, milashka.” He grins, pecking you on the forehead as he begins helping you, at a normal pace.

“So tell me again where we’re going, dad.” You question, readjusting your bag straps again as you walk further into the dense forest in front of you.

“A new spot I found while hiking the other day, great place to see the stars…” Your father responds, almost nervously.

“Oh no, I know that voice.” You groan, rolling your eyes as Pietro looks at you confused.

“What is it?” Sokovian asks.

“We’re lost.” You respond plainly, popping the ‘t.’

“We are not lost.” Clint sighs, moving his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“He brought us out here to die.” You shrug sarcastically.

“You brought us here to die?!” Pietro squeaks, misunderstanding the joke.

“Well, obviously.” Your dad jokes back, not knowing about Pietro’s state.

The platinum blonde man begins murmuring a silent prayer as you and your father continue to banter.

“Let future campers see us as a warning to halt before considering being active.” You sigh dramatically.

“Yes, and may they tell stories of us around the campfires and how great we were.” Clint continues.

Pietro’s brows were furrowed now, very confused by what was going on.

“I cannot tell if you two are being sarcastic or if we are really lost.” He mutters.

You look back over at your boyfriend and the look on his face was priceless, you begin bursting into a fit of laughter, your dad following shortly behind after he catches a glimpse of the mix of concern, fear and confusion slapped onto Pietro’s face

“O-Oh my gosh.” You laugh, placing your hand on Pietro’s arm. “You poor thing, you thought we were serious?” You coo, moving your hands up to Pietro’s cheeks as if he were the most innocent being alive. “Oh you’re adorable.”

“It’s a tradition for the kids, I gotta keep them on their toes.” Clint winks, patting Pietro on the back. “I almost had you this year.” The older Avenger sighs, placing his hand on your head and rustling your hair around.

“In your dreams old man, I saw it a mile away.” You smirk, rolling your eyes and joining your fingers with Pietro’s.

“Okay, okay. The site’s this way, come on.” Your father says, pointing in the direction you could hear rushing water from.

You nod and pull your boyfriend along beside you.

“You’ll get used to it Piet, my sibling’s and I were fooled every year until we started seeing the pattern.” You sigh, reminiscing in your memories of being scared to death as a kid.

“I can see why.” Pietro mutters, still slightly baffled at what had just happened.

Your lips pull even further up into a wide smile and you squeeze Pietro’s hand reassuringly.

“I’ll make sure dad doesn’t do that again, now hurry up, the sun’s setting and we haven’t even pitched our tent.” You laugh, pulling Pietro into a jog and catching up with your dad.

“That’ll do it.” Clint chuckles, stepping back and admiring his tent.

“Mines up too, dad!” You call, unzipping your tent and throwing your sleeping bag inside.

“How about you Pietro, how’s it-”

“Um, a little help?” A weak voice chimes from nearby.

You and your father turn around to see a mess of a tent behind you, beams sticking all over the place and a flustered Pietro standing in front of it, covering whatever he could.

“I-I’ve never been camping, I have only ever seen it on television.” He confesses, crossing his arms.

“Awe Pietro!” You coo, walking over to the pouting Sokovian and wrapping your arms around him.

“Here, hold this part up- Dad, you wanna get in on this?” You laugh.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Clint chuckles, jogging over and holding up the other half of Pietro’s tent as you begin feeding the thin pole through the thin material, with all three of you, the tent went up quickly and as you stood back to admire your work Pietro giddily runs up and scoops you into his arms.

“You are amazing, krasivaya! absolutely amazing!” He beams, spinning you in circles.

“Hey Piet! I’m getting dizzy!” You giggle, holding onto his shoulders and silently praying he’d never put you down.

“Alright you two, stop it before I throw up.” Your father sighs, rolling his eyes and throwing a marshmallow, managing to nail it right on your forehead.

To your dismay, Pietro places you back on the ground and takes your hand as he walks over to the small fire Clint had gotten started.

You sit on one of the chairs set up and accept a small stick and a marshmallow from your dad.

You smirk and stab the fluffy white treat onto the end of your twig and place it above the fire.

Pietro follows your lead and loses focus as the flames seem to swallow his marshmallow whole.

You skillfully pull your marshmallow out as it turns a perfect golden brown, but Pietro isn’t so lucky.

He lifts his stick from the fire to find a small bonfire on the end, and his marshmallow begins to burn.

“Oh- Pietro blow it out!” You rush.

“Right.” He squeals, taking a deep breath and ridding of the fire, leaving him with a charred blob.

“Aw it’s okay Pietro, you can just-.”

The blonde doesn’t let you finish and instead places the whole marshmallow into his mouth.

“-throw it into the fire…”

Pietro’s face contorts from neutral, to disgust, to glee in seconds. His eyebrows raise in surprise and his feet tap happily.

“It’s delicious! a little bitter at first but the rest is perfect!” Pietro muses, quickly snagging the bag of soft treats from your dad’s lap and sticking a bunch onto the end of his stick.

You smile at Pietro’s childlike glee and place your own marshmallow into your mouth, savouring the sweet crust and melts inside in your mouth as your boyfriend ate his like a sweet, sticky kebab.

The sky turns dark and you teach Pietro to make the perfect marshmallow, tell him scary stories and make shadow puppets with the fire’s light just like your dad would do with you when you were young. Clint had grown tired of your couple's antics quickly and retired to his tent earlier, leaving you and Pietro alone.

“Piet, you’ve still got bits of marshmallow on your face.” You laugh, wiping the remnants of sticky sugar out of his goatee and off his nose. Pietro looks down at you lovingly and notices a tiny bit of marshmallow on your bottom lip, without hesitation, his fingers move to your chin and he tilts your head up to let your eyes meet.

Leaning down, your lips meet in a sweet kiss. The taste of marshmallow and charcoal bring smiles to both of your faces as Pietro deepens the kiss. The fire crackles quietly beside you as Pietro’s hands move to your back to pull you closer. Your fingers find their way into his soft hair, tugging ever so gently.

You both part for breath, resting your foreheads together as you catch your breaths.

“You had some marshmallow on your lip, dorogoy.” Pietro smiles sheepishly.

“You don’t say?” You giggle, pressing kisses onto the edges of Pietro’s mouth.

There’s a moment of silence as the two of you bask in each other’s warmth, Pietro’s hands sliding up and down your arms and your fingers tangling themselves in his wavy locks.

“Thank you Printsessa, this has been one of the best nights of my life.” Pietro sighs with a grin.

“One of them?” You joke, leaning into your boyfriend’s chest.

“Oh tsvesti, do you think I’ll ever forget the night we first met? Or our first kiss?” Pietro fires back playfully, wrapping his arms around your tightly and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay, you got me Pie.” You sigh, cuddling closer into him.

“I know, zefir.” Pietro smirks.

“Wait, what does that one mean?” You ask, smiling at the new nickname.

“It means marshmallow, Printsessa. I think it’s very fitting for you.” He smiles, evidently very proud of himself.

You laugh lightly and nod.

“It’s perfect.”

[hxseok-honee]

sundress || part 7

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 7] || she needs him.

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [tell me how good it feels to be needed] needy x ariana grande

taglist [open] :

@deepseavibez @thetrueghostqueen @reddeathraven @dingzerenistall @skyrro @unadulteratedlyunique @ramyagovindraj @itismochirice @wwhseokjin @drpepperobsessed @monamone @thekookiecorner @army-moa75 @burningupp-replies @lele-bb @pb-n-juju @red-kebab @heonsbebe @peachyyoongs @superloverpielamp @marifujioka @butterflylion @heyitsgigi @lochness-butmakeitsexy @miki-chi @cahowlkook @worshiphoseok @lilacdreams-00 @bongsbeforebibles @miriamxsworld @oasiswithmyg @peonyplace @annewrighthglc @calling-dips-on-j-hope @yoongiofmine @loveyoongles @instantspot @missmadwoman @x-xjaeminx-x @luvtaeha @vanillxangxl @renhold-nightspear @taeshuworld @lvrseok @supahumbreon

__________________________

Friday, 17 September, 9:50pm

The moment Yoongi and Y/n are stepping into Gryffindor common room, having come down the stairs from her room hand in hand, Jungkook is on his feet. His eyes are trained solely on Yoongi, and there’s a kind of burning anger there that has the rest of their friends tensing, especially when the Gryffindor heads right for them. Yoongi wonders with brief amusement if Jungkook’s going to hit him.

And he does try -- rather, he tries to grab at Yoongi’s shirt. But Y/n’s stepping in the way just as Jungkook’s reaching out for the Slytherin, and he has to raise his arms and stop short, his sneakers slipping on the rug beneath his feet as he struggles to avoid making contact with her instead. He looks like an idiot, and he knows it, but the thought of almost having put his hands on Y/n sobers Jungkook quickly.

They stand there in silence for a moment, their friends watching with bated breath as Jungkook looks at Y/n with wide eyes, shocked that she’s looking at him so coldly. He barely notices that Yoongi’s looking at her, too, his gaze examining her fondly. Because somehow, even though he knows her better than she knows herself, she always manages to surprise him.

“I think… maybe we should all sit down and talk like real people.” Jin speaks from one of the loveseats, Jimin perched next to him. Y/n doesn’t move when Jungkook doesn’t, refusing to step out of the way until her ex is backing down. And he eventually does, lowering his eyes and moving to one of the armchairs. He’s acutely aware of Y/n pulling Yoongi to the other loveseat, directly across from Jungkook.

“Okay… not totally sure what we’re supposed to talk about, since it’s not like anything’s going to change…” Namjoon speaks from where he half-sits on the ledge of an open window, a joint in his hand. Tae’s standing behind him, leaning on the wall, Namjoon’s back pressed into his chest. The Gryffindor sighs lightly, pinching at the bridge of his nose, and Y/n feels distinctly bad for him -- he’s the one that has to live with Jungkook, and she knows all too well how annoying he can get.

“Look, let’s just start with the facts so that I don’t have to listen to Jungkook theorizing and scheming all night.” Tae’s roommate turns to him, clearly offended, but the bookworm puts a hand up, silencing him before he can even say anything. He looks at the pair on the couch. “How did this happen?” He gestures vaguely to Yoongi and Y/n when he says this, not wanting to outright call them a couple, considering the ticking time bomb sitting in the armchair.

Y/n looks to Yoongi in slight alarm, careful to mask her expression because she knows Jungkook’s watching closely. But they hadn’t had a chance to discuss a backstory, and she doesn’t want them to say any conflicting information. It seems Yoongi has it handled, though, his face perfectly composed as he makes something up.

“Over the summer -- just a drunk night. We decided to forget it happened because it was better for our friendship, but… I guess I just couldn’t.” He looks to her when he says it, almost smirking when he sees the surprise in her eyes -- surprise that he’d made it sound like he was the one who’d caught feelings. She makes a mental note to talk to him about it later, but Jungkook’s already talking, unable to resist taking a jab at the boy.

“That’s bullshit. Y/n wouldn’t just sleep with you and let it go. She’s not a whore like you.” Yoongi finds it funny, if he’s honest, but he knows by the way that Y/n tenses next to him that she very much does not. So he pulls his hand from hers and slides it over her leg, squeezing at her thigh and letting it rest there, his thumb tracing circles of comfort into her skin. Jungkook’s eyes flick down to watch it happen, and when he raises his gaze again, there’s renewed irritation there. Yoongi almost feels bad that he finds the Gryffindor’s anger amusing. Almost.

“Well, I don’t know, Jeon. Maybe if you hadn’t fucked up and dumped her, she wouldn’t have spent the summer with me. Then that drunk night wouldn’t have happened. So… should I say thank you?” Y/n purses her lips and hides her face in Yoongi’s shoulder, somehow both exasperated and deeply amused by his words. Jimin whistles from the couch, not even bothering to mask how entertained he is by what’s happening here. Y/n lifts her head, figuring she should try to ease the tension somehow.

“Look, Jungkook. There’s nothing you can do about this, okay? Yoongi and I are together now, so I would just… appreciate it if you’d let this go so we can rebuild our friendship.” The group nods, finding her words reasonable. It’s the truth -- what’s done is done, so they might as well all move on and find a way to return to normalcy.

“I don’t believe you.” Namjoon throws his head back and groans loudly when Jungkook refuses to cooperate, Jin dropping his head to his hands because they’re really never going to get anywhere like this. Jungkook doesn’t even notice. “You want me to let it go, huh? Almost like you’re just pretending to date so that I will.”

“I feel like that says more about the fact that you won’t leave her alone than anything it says about Yoongi and Y/n.” It comes from Tae, who is clearly getting very frustrated. He’s a man of knowledge, fact. He puts weight in words and sees the world for what it is. So he’s very annoyed at Jungkook’s delusions -- at the fact that he won’t just accept the situation. That, even in a world where he might be right, he’s not seeing that Yoongi and Y/n would only pretend because he’s being relentless and they’ve had to turn to a drastic last resort.

“Prove it. Prove you’re dating. You two hold hands and shit all the time, this doesn’t prove a thing.” Jungkook all but ignores Tae, hyper-focusing on Yoongi and Y/n across from him. Yoongi turns to Y/n with a knowing look, one that says ‘What’d I tell you? Cringey TV shit’. It makes her smile widely, even as she’s reaching to place her hand on the side of Yoongi’s neck, pulling him in. He slides his hand from her thigh to her waist when his lips fall to hers, the action already easier than it’d been less than hour ago.

They can hear the various noises of reaction from their friends -- Jin hums in contemplation as Jimin quite literally starts to laugh, and Namjoon is choking on the hit he’d just taken, Tae whispering ‘oh, okay then’ behind him.

Yoongi presses one last kiss to Y/n’s mouth before pulling away with an obnoxious smack of his lips, winking discreetly at her and smiling when she rolls her eyes. They turn to the group, Yoongi taking her hand in his and pulling it into his lap as he threads his fingers through hers. Their friends seem relatively unaffected, if only amused or intrigued by them, but Jungkook.

Jungkook’s looking at them with hardened rage, because there’s really no way he can explain that one without ending up at a romantic relationship between them. That fact clearly bothers him enough that he’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he looks at them, and Y/n can see the childish malice flashing in his eyes. And she knows he’s about to say something bad.

“Tell me, Yoongi -- are you enjoying my sloppy seconds?” The entire room is standing immediately -- Yoongi because he’s perfectly certain he’s about to put Jungkook in the Hospital Wing, and everyone else because they have to make sure Yoongi doesn’t do exactly that.

Y/n had seen it coming -- had seen the way Jungkook had shut down just before saying it, because she knows what that looks like -- so she’s able to react the fastest out of everyone. Latching onto the back of Yoongi’s shirt before he’s able to get too close to Jungkook, she yanks him back to her, slipping her arms around her waist and holding tight. Jin and Namjoon have moved to Jungkook’s side, hands on his chest to stop him from moving -- because at the end of the day, Jungkook’s the athlete here. He could easily knock someone back if he wants to, so they know they need more than one person to stop him from acting rash.

Y/n slides her hand over Yoongi’s mouth, knowing he completely lacks a filter and not wanting him to make things worse because he’s angry. She pulls him backwards toward the stairs to her room, turning when she gets there and urging him up the steps before waving at the rest of the room.

“Well, this has been great -- goodnight!” And then she’s taking the steps two at a time to catch up to Yoongi, who’s stomping angrily up to her door. He makes his way inside, pacing the room as Y/n shuts her door behind her, and then he’s turning to her, his eyes alight.

“After that, you still won’t let me kick his ass?!” She knows that, if all their friends are still downstairs, then they can definitely hear him yelling. The whole house can probably hear him yelling. She rushes forward, taking his face in her hands and shushing him, because she really needs him to calm down.

“Yoongi, it’s fine. I don’t care, it doesn’t bother me--”

“It should!” He’s ripping his face from her hold, going back to pacing as he pulls at his hair in frustration. She sighs, moving to him again and wrapping a hand around his wrist. He tries to pull that free, too, but she holds tight, so he turns to her with annoyance. “How can you just be okay with what he said?!”

“I’m not. I’m not okay with what he said.” He stops, breathing deeply to calm down when he sees how serious she is. Turning so he’s facing her properly, he waits for her to continue. “I’m not okay with it, Yoongi, but right now I’m more concerned about you.”

“Why? I’m not the one he was insulting--”

“It’s not about him, Yoongi. I will deal with what he said later. Let’s just… go to bed? Hm?” It hurts, what Jungkook had said to her. That he’d called her a cheater over text and then blatantly insulted her to her face. That he’d let his pride get so in the way of his head that he couldn’t see how terrible he was being.

But it’s Yoongi that worries her. Because he’s fiercely protective, whether he’s aware of it or not. Because she knows how quickly his mouth can get him in trouble when he’s seeing red. Because her problems with Jungkook are hers, and she doesn’t want Yoongi burning a bridge with Jungkook over this, no matter how hard her ex is trying to start the fire himself.

So she’s pulling him to her bed, shuffling toward him once they’re both under the comforter. Taking his face in her hands again -- and smiling when he doesn’t pull away this time -- she’s squishing his cheeks, glad to see the way he rolls his eyes. It means he’s calming down, however reluctantly.

“You okay?” He sighs when she asks, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her close. Her fingers move to his ears, where she plays with his piercings, an unconscious habit. Pushing his nose against hers, he doesn’t respond, only searching her eyes.

“Are you?” A small smile, a nod. But he doesn’t find the reassurance he’s looking for in her eyes, so he knows she’s lying. But he lets it go for now, scooting around until he can tuck her into his chest, his chin coming to rest on her head as they drift off to sleep, trying to put this day behind them.

--

Saturday, 18 September, 3:48am

It’s the shaking that wakes Yoongi up. Not the gasped sob that precedes it, muffled into a hand desperate to keep her quiet. Not the sniffling that follows, tearful and devastated. It’s the shaking — the pure force of the cry that tears its way through her body, jostling the mattress and pulling Yoongi out of his slumber.

Y/n keeps her curtains drawn at night, blocking any moonlight that would have filtered in through her window, so he can’t see her in the dark — not until he’s blinked enough times that silhouettes start to take shape around him. When he notices the shadow sitting at the edge of the bed, he’s sliding his hand across the sheet next to him, almost as if to check that she’s not there, sleeping peacefully beside him. She’s not.

Scooting his way along the mattress until he’s close enough to touch her, he’s sitting up, the comforter falling off of him as he goes.

“Hey…” Yoongi puts his hand on her back to draw her attention, his palm flat against the curve of her spine as he leans over to try to see her face. Y/n jumps, clearly not having noticed that he was awake.

“Shit— did I wake you?” She gives one last sniffle, and he can see her wiping frantically at her face. He doesn’t respond, only moving closer until he can press his chest to her left shoulder, trying to make as much physical contact as possible so she knows she can lean on him.

“Talk to me… please?” He doesn’t need to see when she shakes her head. He can feel it, the way her whole body moves to say no — to shut him out. It leaves a dreadfully bad taste in his mouth, guilt crawling up the back of his neck.

“I’m just gonna... I need to shower.” Yoongi furrows a brow at her sudden remark, pressing his chest closer to her, his face coming to rest on her shoulder.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night…” Y/n moves to stand, Yoongi’s fingers clinging to the back of her shirt until she’s too far away for him to keep holding on. She heads to the bathroom, the sudden flick of the light blinding him for a few seconds. He blinks it away, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and perching there, just as she had. He hears the shower turn on, and his heart aches at the thought that Y/n’s only doing this so she can cry beneath the sound of running water again. The guilt that had been dancing along the edges of his skin flows into his chest now, settling there like a ton of bricks.

He’s so busy staring down at the floor, trying to figure out how to make this better, that he doesn’t notice Y/n’s slowly making her way back to him until she’s standing over him.

“Yoongi?” The Slytherin blinks, lifting his head in surprise at the call of his name. Y/n stares down at him, taking in the way the pale yellow light from the bathroom washes over his features — it shows her the darkness in his eyes, the turmoil sitting there. She reaches out to him, wiggling her fingers slowly until he’s taking her hand in his, waiting for her to tell him what’s on her mind.

“Come with me?” Eyes widening, he stares up at her silently, unsure why she’s asking him this. But he finds himself nodding, knowing that, whatever it is, she needs him. She needs him there with her, so he’s rising from the bed and following her to the bathroom, because — right now, in this moment — he needs her to need him. He’s too scared to think of the alternative — that he’s caused this pain in her eyes, that it’s his fault.

Compared to the bedroom, it’s uncomfortably bright here in the bathroom, so much so that they just stand in the middle of the room for a few seconds, unsure how to proceed. Finally, as if coming to his senses, Yoongi’s looking toward the door, finding the light switch easily. With an apprehensive glance in Y/n’s direction, he moves toward it, setting his fingers on the switch and flicking it down.

They’re bathed in darkness immediately, but there’s a small window on the far wall, one that lets in just enough moonlight that they won’t hurt themselves trying to navigate the room.

Yoongi steps slowly back to where he’d been before, hovering in front of Y/n and waiting for her to tell him what to do. After a moment of nothing, she’s reaching out to him, taking his fingers in her own and guiding his hands to the hem of her t-shirt. She leaves them there, looking to him to continue.

With a nervous breath, Yoongi grasps at the material, lifting the shirt up and off her body as gingerly as he can, his eyes on the wall behind her head. He only glances at her once he can see her crossing her arms in front of her chest, covering herself.

He steps in just enough that he can set his hands on her hips and push at the waistband of her pajama pants, turning away and giving her privacy once she’s able to kick them the rest of the way off, working slowly at his own clothes while he waits.

When his shorts and shirt are pooled on the floor beneath his feet, he’s glancing over his shoulder at her. He can see out of the corner of his eye that there’s no break in the expanse of her skin where her panties should be — she’d removed them while his back was turned. For some reason — and although they’ve been in this situation before — the idea of that makes his face uncomfortably warm.

They make eye contact as he hooks his thumbs into the elastic of his boxers experimentally, but when he sees how her eyes widen just slightly in panic at the idea of him being fully naked — never mind the fact that she’s fully naked — Yoongi pulls his thumbs free, deciding it’s best that he leaves them on.

He waits until she’s stepped past the shower curtain to follow, giving her time to curl into herself again because this is objectively the weirdest thing they’ve ever done, and he’s not sure either of them is ready for him to pretend he’s completely comfortable seeing her naked. She pokes her head out after a moment, hair and face wet, and he knows he can join her.

He’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to be doing here — if he should be standing on the far end of the shower like he had been the only other time they’d done this, or if he’s supposed to be showering, too. After all, it hadn’t been his idea this time.

He’s just about decided to keep his distance from her when he sees her silhouette moving toward him. It’s a lot darker behind the shower curtain, which he’s partially glad for because he really can’t see any part of Y/n that he’s not supposed to, but the other part of him is stressed because he isn’t really in the mood to slip and die tonight.

Y/n’s wet hands find his forearms, pulling him slowly toward her and into the stream of hot water. They’re close enough now that they can see each other’s faces, but she’s dropping her forehead to his shoulder soon enough, arms slipping around his waist loosely.

“Can you help me?” As if running on autopilot, Yoongi’s moving, hands fumbling for the bottle of shampoo on the shelf to their left. Squirting some on top of her head — admittedly difficult since she’s got her face buried in the crook of his neck — he scrubs gently at her hair. Knowing she likes having her head scratched when she’s having a bad day, he rubs the pads of his fingertips against her scalp, feeling both accomplished and like he’s just made a terrible mistake when she shivers and unintentionally pulls him closer, almost no space left between them.

Lowering an arm to the small of her back so she doesn’t fall, Yoongi walks her backwards until she’s fully under the water, where he rinses her hair for her. He’s about to reach for the conditioner when Y/n lifts her head, grabbing the shampoo herself. Pouring some into her palm and setting the bottle down, she meets his eyes before letting her eyes drift up to his hair, now wet from standing under the water with her.

Wordlessly, Yoongi lowers his face to her shoulder just as she had, giving her permission to wash his hair for him and sighing when she drags her nails through his hair. With his eyes shut and the soothing feeling of Y/n breathing against him, he’s left with his thoughts. It’s not long before the guilt is rearing its ugly head again.

“I’m sorry…” Things had been quiet between them, Y/n working at rinsing the soap from his roots, when he’d whispered it. She hears him perfectly, and, although he doesn’t lift his eyes to look at her, she knows he’s waiting to see if she’ll respond. When she doesn’t — only slowing her movements in his hair — he continues. “If I hadn’t started all of this — if I had just talked to you before telling him we were together — then he wouldn’t have…” He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t have to.

Then he wouldn’t have said those things about you. Then you wouldn’t be hurting right now.

“If you’re mad at me—“

“I’m not mad at you, Yoongi.” Yoongi lifts his head now, searching her eyes for any sign of a lie. There isn’t one — he only finds hints of amusement, a smile dancing on the edges of her lips. “I’m not mad at you. I know why you did it — I get why you did it. I’m okay with it — with this.”

Yoongi’s not sure he’s ever felt as much relief as he does now, his body almost deflating from the pent up stress leaving him. Y/n grins when she sees how his entire being untenses, his shoulders dropping as he sighs. Reaching up, she pushes his hair out of his face, almost laughing when she sees how his eyes twinkle with renewed energy. She hums, pretending to think about what she’s going to say next, because there is one thing she’s decided in the last few minutes — in the span of time it’d taken her to see how the guilt of potentially being responsible for her pain had torn at Yoongi. At the only boy in the world who would do anything in his power to never hurt her.

“There is one person I’m mad at, though.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, knowing what she’s going to say but still waiting for the name to leave her lips. “Jeon Jungkook.”

Yoongi feels himself swell with something akin to pride when he sees how the sadness that had been in her eyes turns to anger, almost mischievous in the glint of the moonlight. She continues, eyeing him with an evil grin.

“I think that, no matter how dumb and ill-prepared your plan had been… you really might have done something there, Yoongi.” The Slytherin beams, loving the way revenge looks on her as she stands there in his arms at damn near 4 o’clock in the morning.

“Yeah? You got something in mind?” Y/n hums conspiratorially, a bubble of laughter escaping her as she loops her arms around his shoulders and pulls him closer, because they’re really standing in her shower scheming about how to get back at her horrible ex, like this is normal for them.

“I mean, I just think we could really make this work… We’d just have to work out the logistics of the ‘relationship’, but nothing between us will really change since we’re already so close.” She gestures vaguely down at their current state for emphasis, and Yoongi throws his head back to laugh at how incredibly strange this entire situation is. He nods when he’s done, running his hands up and down her back, hot water flowing over his arms as he wraps them tighter around her waist.

“Well, I know that being naked with someone might not be the most obvious act of affection to you, but to me, there’s nothing better.” Y/n rolls her eyes at his playful smirk when he says it, because at the end of the day, Min Yoongi’s still an idiot.

”So… since we’re clearly in quite the romantic situation here, I think this is the perfect place to ask.” Yoongi smiles when he says it, shockingly sweet given the teasing lilt of his voice. “Y/n, would you do me the honor of pretending to be my girlfriend so that we can tear your dumbass ex-boyfriend apart from the inside out with how perfect we are together?” Y/n snorts, nodding once.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” With a toothy smile, Yoongi lifts his right hand to her hair, playing with the ends of it as he hums contemplatively.

“Should we make it official?” Y/n eyes at him suspiciously.

“Listen buddy, I might be naked right now, but I’m not having sex with you.” With an annoyed huff and a mumbled 'you're an idiot', Yoongi rolls his eyes, grabbing a fistful of her hair and tugging until it’s pulled taut, giving him full control of her head. Leaning in, he angles her so he can slot his lips against hers comfortably, almost smiling when she reciprocates right away.

Yeah. This is definitely getting easier.

Y/n’s arms tighten around Yoongi’s neck as her hand lifts to card her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. She barely notices that the arm he has around her waist is pulling her in, only registering it when she feels her chest press flush to his. She doesn’t even have time to feel embarrassed, though, because Yoongi’s tilting his head, the pressure of his lips on hers suddenly changing.

She isn’t ready for the wet swipe against the seam of her lips, and she hates that she gasps because she knows it’s given him a chance to push his tongue into her mouth -- he’s brushing against her tongue roughly, almost challenging her to fight back. Feeling him smirk against her lips at the victory when she doesn’t, she tries to resist him now, nipping sharply at his bottom lip and snickering into his mouth when he groans.

The laugh in her throat is drowned out by a whimper when Yoongi tightens his hold on her hair until it’s bordering on painful. She doesn’t mind the sting, and she’s wondering if he can tell. That thought goes quickly out the window, because he’s already testing it again, tugging harshly and taking note of the way her breath catches. It had been a game before, push and pull -- but now she just can't think straight.

The fog in her mind masking every form of smart decision-making that she knows, Y/n’s sliding her arms off of his shoulders. Scratching her nails lightly down the expanse of Yoongi’s chest and torso, she smirks when his muscles are jumping under her touch, his breath shaky as he rubs his tongue against hers. And then her two pointer fingers are hooking into the waistband of his wet boxers, and Yoongi’s whining low into her mouth.

He can feel her pulling the elastic away from his skin, and he’s shuffling toward her to close the distance, mostly because he’s afraid she’s going to purposely let go and snap the band painfully back to him -- but also because there’s only one thing Yoongi’s sure of right now, and it’s that his boxers have to stay on. But her fingers are still hooked into the band -- because apparently she’s decided that that’s a good place to rest her hands -- and she keeps accidentally tugging the material down, so if he doesn’t keep up with her, they’re both gonna be in trouble.

Dropping his hands to Y/n’s waist, Yoongi turns her slowly toward the shower wall, his thumbs rubbing heated circles into her skin as he nudges her backward. His brain feels like mush, especially when he accidentally pushes his hips against hers, because she’s sighing into his mouth, and he finds himself wanting to do it again -- so he does. The white noise in his head only gets louder, because she’s whimpering when he stumbles forward, pinning her roughly to the wall as his hips rock into hers. But then she’s gasping suddenly and his heart is dropping, because it doesn’t sound the same as the others.

Yoongi pulls back right away, searching her face in the dark to see if she’s hurt -- if he’s made her uncomfortable. But she only seems shocked, her eyes wide and confused.

Shocked is exactly what she is. Because when Yoongi had guided her backwards into the wall, the cold tile against her skin had made her jump. And just like that, the haze had cleared, the reality of what they were doing -- what they might have kept doing if not for the shock to her system -- setting in. She looks him over, taking in his confusion and only offering a single sentence.

“You’re Yoongi.” Eyebrows disappearing into his hair, the boy’s nodding slowly, like he’s worried about her current mental state. She offers one more line, and this one does the trick.

“I’m Y/n.” Almost like a switch had been turned off, wiping Yoongi’s brain free of his own fog, he’s grimacing immediately, a noise of discomfort leaving him. Because she hadn’t filled in the gaps, but he had.

He’s him, and she’s her. And they… they don’t do things like this. They don’t lose themselves in each other like this. Because there’s nothing there between them, so much so that even the thought of continuing what they’d been doing is bringing a frown to both of their faces. Yoongi swallows hard, smacking his lips in slight disgust.

“Way to kill a boner, loser.” He hisses when she lands a well-aimed smack to his bicep, fully aware that he deserved that. Planting her hand on his chest, Y/n’s pushing him away -- slowly, because the last thing they need is him slipping and trying to explain to Pomfrey how they’d gotten here when he ends up in the Hospital Wing. Once there’s distance between them, Y/n’s crossing her arms over her chest, like that really will do much considering the last five minutes of their lives. She does it anyway, grateful that he has the decency to look away instead of making a snide remark about the futility of hiding from him now. She clears her throat, drawing his attention from where he leans against the wall.

“So -- making out in the shower at 4am was a bad idea.” Yoongi laughs loudly, and the tension between them is immediately dissipating with his nod.

“100%. Cross it off the bucket list, but let’s never do that again.”

--

Saturday, 18 September, 10:05am

“…ke up… Y/n… come on, wake up… Y/n!” Jumping from the sudden yell of her name, Y/n’s eyes fly open, startled. She turns her head toward the voice that had called her, finding that Yoongi’s hovering right over her. He’s got his lips pressed to the shell of her ear, clearly having decided that yelling right into her eardrum would wake her, because of course it would.

“What?” He pulls away when she snaps at him, looking down at her with a sleepy grin. He’s got an arm around her waist, his body having been curled tightly around hers the whole night. After they’d finished their shower, she’d sat on her bed in her towel for a few minutes, too lazy to get dressed, and Yoongi had thrown one of his baggy t-shirts and a pair of her panties at her face in irritation because he’d really wanted to go to sleep. It’s all she’s wearing, something that had made cuddling much easier since she gets cold at night -- he’s not happy about having his body heat stolen, but it’s only a minor inconvenience if he’s honest.

He sets his chin on her shoulder now, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the smell of him, all over his t-shirt. He wonders briefly if she’s going to start smelling like this new hybrid scent from now on -- if she’d be wearing his clothes more often now. It doesn’t elicit any particular reaction out of him, only a curious hum leaving him. He makes eye contact with her again, seeing that she’s giving him an irritated look, probably because he’d woken her. With an innocent smile, he says--

“‘m hungry.” She shoots him a look, rolling back over onto her side and shutting him out.

“Then go eat.” He pulls at her shoulder right away, forcing her to lean against him again and give him her attention.

“Go with me -- I don’t wanna sit alone in the Great Hall, and we’re supposed to do shit together now! Couple-y shit!” Y/n groans angrily, because now all the sleepiness she’d felt is fading away, leaving her awake and annoyed.

“Dude, it’s a Saturday at 10am, and we just went to bed like 5 hours ago! Go without me!” She’s about to turn away again, but Yoongi’s scooting impossibly closer, pressing his face into her neck and whining loudly -- it’s really obnoxious, and he knows that. It works, though, because she’s sighing loudly, about to give in. But--

“Min Yoongi.” His whining stops, replaced by a confused hum because her voice has an edge to it that makes him feel like he’s in trouble.

“Get your fucking morning wood away from my ass. Before I push you out the window.” Yoongi stills, pursing his lips and shutting his eyes in embarrassment, because he hadn’t even noticed that he’d been pushing the front of his shorts against her backside while he was complaining. Hiding his face in her neck, he’s about to apologize and move away, maybe even resign himself to going to breakfast alone after all -- but then a snort of amusement is leaving him, and he’s staying right where he is.

“Maybe if you get out of bed, you won’t have to feel it anymore. Unless… you want to?” It’s definitely the wrong thing to say, and he knows it, already rolling away from Y/n in a panic because she’s turning to him, her hands curling into fists as she locates her target.

For no less than five minutes, Y/n chases Yoongi around her room, flinging clothes, shoes, heavy objects -- anything she can get her hands on. Finally, she latches onto the front of his shirt, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling angrily on his hair. He yelps, snaking one arm around her and using his other hand to break his fall against her bedroom door, because they’re both about to topple over.

His back slams heavily into the wood, and Y/n can’t tell if he’s crying or laughing, but either way, he’s yelling -- and it’s very unlikely that anyone in the vicinity of her room can’t hear him.

“I had you naked up against a wall last night, and you’re mad about my morning wood?!” Y/n pulls on his hair extra hard, enraged, and he yelps again, losing his footing -- they crash to the ground in a pile of limbs, both groaning loudly. It becomes laughter almost immediately, exhausted and full of disbelief that they’d just spent all that time trashing her room. After a moment of heavy breathing and pained complaints, Yoongi turns to her, an obnoxious grin on his face.

“‘m still hungry.”

--

“Oh my God, would you hurry up? If we miss last call for breakfast and have to eat in the kitchens, I’m gonna be so pissed--”

“I told you to go alone--”

“And I told you that I wanted you to go with me--”

“We coulda been there already if you hadn’t been all up on me and pissed me off--”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it, babe--”

“Min Yoongi--”

“Ow! Okay, I’m sorry!”

After cleaning up the mess in Y/n’s room, she and Yoongi had gotten ready together, because there would have been no way for her to go back to sleep after that. He had rummaged through the part of her wardrobe designated for his belongings -- it had become convenient for them to keep clothes in each others’ rooms after a couple years, clearly serving its purpose now that Yoongi’d needed a clean outfit.

Still, even with fresh clothes on, it’s obvious that Yoongi had stayed the night -- rather, it’s obvious to Taehyung and Namjoon, who are sitting in the Gryffindor common room doing work when Yoongi and Y/n stumble down the stairs, on the edge of laughter even though they’re bickering. And it’s especially obvious to Jungkook, who’s reaching the bottom of the stairs to the boys’ dorm at the same time -- because he’s stopped at a close enough distance to Yoongi that he can smell the scent of Y/n’s body wash all over him. A smell he’s very personally familiar with.

Y/n chokes on her spit, realizing with a reddening face not only that her friends had heard the conversation she and Yoongi had just been having, but that they had definitely also heard what had happened upstairs -- what Yoongi had said about having her naked up against a wall. Y/n wants to hide in a corner and never make eye contact with them ever again, but they don’t mention it, Taehyung only waving with an amused smile as Namjoon hides his laughter behind a hand. She points at the door to the common room awkwardly.

“We’re… going to breakfast… if anyone wants to come.” The pair of boyfriends shake their heads simultaneously, and Y/n turns her head to where she knows Jungkook is when she sees Namjoon glancing in slight concern over to the boys standing beside her. When she looks, she sees why he might be worried.

Yoongi and Jungkook have yet to say a word or even acknowledge that Y/n had spoken, too busy staring each other down. It’s obvious that Jungkook’s angry, but Yoongi would never back down from a challenge. Y/n reaches out, sliding her hand down Yoongi’s forearm and threading her fingers through his.

“Come on… we’re gonna miss last call…” Jungkook doesn’t tear his eyes away from Yoongi’s when she grabs the Slytherin’s hand, but he’s definitely seen it out of the corner of his eye, his gaze hardening. It brings a smirk to Yoongi’s lips, knowing Y/n’s affection had gotten under his skin. Looking Jungkook up and down with that infuriating curl of his lips, Yoongi only cocks an eyebrow at the Gryffindor before turning to Y/n, pulling her toward the door as he responds, his voice carrying through the silent common room with distinct clarity.

“I don’t mind if we eat in the kitchens, babygirl -- I like being alone with you.” Y/n rolls her eyes internally at how obnoxious Yoongi is, but she can hear Jungkook letting out a restrained sigh behind them, and she can’t help the smug satisfaction that fills her. And when Yoongi glances at her as they step out into the corridor, his eyes dancing with amusement, she knows he feels the same.

Well, this should be fun.

[buttterknifeee]

Deep Six- Teen Titans x Aquagirl!Reader

Request: May I request an insert in the episode Deep Six where the titans meet Aqualad?

Masterlist

Summary: Robin makes you accompany this guy name Aqualad and Beast Boy. Will you be able to handle them or will their bickering tear you apart. Also you're a katara kinnie (i know ATLA didn't exist then but still) This episode is Season 1 Episode 8!

Pairings: Platonic!Aqualad x reader, Robin x reader if you squint

Word Count: 4314

A/N: this time i decided not to split up the episode and post it as one! I made them meet for the first time here, so the Aqua kids don't bond much yet, but if you want to see more, feel free to request! (click here for guidelines) Also yes I also ended this one with "anyone up for pizza" thats all i know how to do to end a fan ficbskghs

“Ahhhh, don’t you just love the ocean?” you admired the shallow sea, the blue water flowing by you. The others prepared for launch, reading off the status of the T-Sub.

“Main power online.”

“Oxygen tanks at maximum”

“Defensive system active”

Beast boy hums confidently. “And your new secret weapon is ready to rock.”

Cyborg rolls his eyes through the headset. “Only time you qualify as a secret weapon is after eating a tofu bean burrito.” You stifled a giggle as Beast Boy yells in protest.

“Uh, 'scuse me, bud. Can you breathe underwater? Uh-uh. Can you be any fish in the sea?”

You shrugged your shoulders and smirked. “Cyborg can’t but I can. And I can breathe underwater without being a fish so I guess I’m just as much of a secret weapon as you, BB.”

You found out that you could breathe underwater a few days after you and the others formed the Teen Titans. You were surfing for the first time since that day when you fell off your board. You had accidentally inhaled underwater, and to your relief, you found that you were able to breathe in the ocean water with no problem. You offered to swim outside the sub on your own, but the team didn’t want you to get hurt, so you were stuck in the small confines of your own pod of the T-sub.

Robin ignores you three’s bickering. “We have to find out what this Trident guy is planning,” he says. “If it takes forty barrels of toxic waste, I doubt it's environmentally friendly.”

The engines warm up, the vessel humming to life. “Titan Launch!” Robin exclaims and the T-sub shoots through a tunnel and into the Jump CIty Bay. You watch in awe at the ocean life around you. Now that you had a connection to the ocean, your perspective on ocean life had changed. You clutch your seashell necklace as you continue to take in the view of the ocean, ignoring Beast Boy showing off his teeth and Cyborg turning off his mic as a result. Robin’s voice snaps you back into reality.

“Sonar contact. Beast Boy! Aquagirl! Ready to go?”

You gave a quick smile. “On it.” You unbuckle your harness and the dome unlatched, allowing you to swim out. Beast Boy gave a mischievous smirk.

“Dude, I was born ready. Try not to be jealous.” He aimed the second comment at Raven, who looked at him indifferently. Beast Boy quickly swam out of his pod and transformed into a whale.

“He just put on three hundred thousand pounds. I am so jealous.” she notes sarcastically.

You and Beast Boy made silent eye contact before swimming towards the cargo ship, examining its destroyed remains. He turns into a shark to keep investigating, and you follow his lead. You couldn’t help but feel that you were being watched, as you swam around the ship. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you see a green figure; not a bright green like Beast Boy’s but a sicker, murkier green. You point at the green man as he swam away, and you and Beast Boy immediately bolt after it, the T-sub following behind.

Your black scuba shoes propelled you forward, and you aimed blasts of water towards the figure, but it kept dodging your shots. The monster, whom you now assumed was Trident, fired his weapon at you and Beast Boy, and when you dodged, it hit the T-sub. You forced yourself to continue to chase after Trident, hoping that the vessel was also capable of dodging his shots.

You and Beast Boy were nearing close to catching Trident when a voice rang in your head. It wasn’t yours, nor Beast Boy’s; it was clear, belonging to someone no older than you were.

“Your friends are in danger.” you heard. You and Beast Boy both stopped in your tracks, looking at each other in shock. You realized that the T-sub was no longer following you.

“Our friends are in what? Whoa! How did you say that? Dude! How did I say that? Hey!” Beast Boy also says in your mind. You turn to see the T-sub being attacked, and shot off without waiting for Beast Boy.

“Dude, questions are for later! Let’s go!” You order, not even entirely sure how you were able to talk either. You approach the vessel, which was being destroyed by Trident, who you swore you were just chasing.

Suddenly, a figure knocked Trident down. Trident and the mystery person fought each other, moving so quickly that all you could see of the person was a blur of black and blue

You turn your attention to the T-sub, which was slowly sinking into a fissure on the seafloor. Water was filling up fast and a look of panic settled on your teammates faces (except Raven, who seemed to have accepted death). Your eyes glowed blue as you outstretched your arms towards the damaged vessel. Focusing on the water around the titans, you forced the leaks to cease and the descent into the fissure to stop. Your muscles burned as you kept your stance; holding the vessel in place underwater was similar to holding it up on your arms above ground. Beast Boy raced to help as you struggled to keep grip when suddenly, two whales came and carried the sub on their backs.

You let go of the ship and breathe a sigh of relief. Beast Boy sees you almost passing out and comes to your side, now in the form of a squid. Instead of comforting you, he complains about the whales' help.

"They got it? How come they got it?"

A familiar voice rang in your head again. "Because I asked for their help." The voice belonged to the guy who was fighting Trident before. He comes to your other side and supports your other arm, putting it around his neck.

"You talk to fish? Yeah right. And let go of her!"

"You guys need help, and I'm talking to you right?" He glared at Beast Boy, keeping his grip on you.

Beast Boy was about to reply when you held your hand up in front of his squid face. "Beast Boy, I'm a solid five seconds from collapsing. I'm fine with the help."

The guy in blue gave a small smile. "And it's called telepathy. Let's go."

The three of you swam into a cavern. As you entered, the T-sub was floating on the water's surface and although it was extremely damaged, it managed to keep your teammates safe. You nodded to Beast Boy and the other teen and they let you go as you approach the other titans.

Raven asked, "where are we?"

"My place," the mysterious teen answered. "I told the whales to bring you here."

Raven and Starfire both blushed and gave bashful thank yous. You stared at them. Are they… in love with the new guy???, you thought, confused.

Beats Boy seemed angrier than ever. "He saved you?" He yelled, turning back into his human form. "Hel-lo? I was there too, you know."

Cyborg raised an eyebrow. "Were you? Because if anything I remember Aquagirl keeping us from drowning. What, you stopped Trident from kebabbing us with that souped up shrimp fork?"

"Way to go!" Robin said sarcastically. Beast Boy stuttered a response, but the blue teen interrupted.

"Aquagirl, huh? Well, I'm Aqualad. Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier, we Atlanteans like to keep a low profile."

You shake his hand, now taking in what Aqualad looked like. He was half a foot taller than you, with slicked back hair and black pupils. He wore a bodysuit with blue scales and black accents. He had nice features, but you couldn't figure out why the other girls were drooling over him, so you kept that thought to yourself.

"You're from Atlantis? That's so cool!" You say.

He nodded. "So is Trident." He opens up a hologram from a table in the cavern. "He's the worst criminal in Atlantis, with an ego to match."

He continues a sideshow filled with pictures of the sickly green monster. "Trident claims he's perfect in every way so he thinks he can do whatever he wants."

"Any ideas what he wants to do with all that toxic waste?" Robin asked.

"Whatever it is, it'll be bad for both our worlds. He's already gained some kind of new power. It's like he can be everywhere at once." Aqualad says.

"Noticed that," Raven says sarcastically.

"As long as we're after the same guy, maybe we can help each other." He looks at the six of you.

Your eyes sparkle. "Of co-" you begin, but Beast Boy pushed you out of the way.

"Whoa, hey, no, we're good. Got the whole Trident thing under control. 'Sides, I'm sure there's a school of minnows somewhere that need your--" He rejects Aqualad's offer, much to you and the other's dismay. Robin pulls him back, and the six of you group huddled.

"We're at the bottom of the ocean," Raven notes.

"Our sub is Swiss cheese." Cyborg adds.

"I almost died back there," You say.

"And we cannot breathe water," Starfire mentions.

Robin is the first to break away from the huddle. "We'll take any help you can give us." He says to Aqualad.

Aqualad nods and has some amphibian guy named Tramm fix the T-sub. He turns back to us. "While he's helping you, I'll track down Trident. " He turns to go into the ocean again, but Beast Boy intersects.

"You mean I'll track down Trident," He says, pushing him a little

Aqualad pushes him back a little harder. "That's ok, I can handle it."

"Thanks, but I think I should do this."

"Seriously, I can take care of it!"

The five of you watched as their quarrel turned into an all out brawl, and suddenly you couldn't take it anymore.

"GUYS," You yell, causing a wall of water to shoot up next to them to grab their attention. They both stared at you wide eyed. "Stop. The. Fighting." You say with a stern expression.

"Why don't you two both go track him down together?" Robin offers, but the two teens cross their arms and scoff.

"I usually work alone." Aqualad says.

"Yeah. Me too."

"You do not! You're part of a team!"

"And you hang out with Tramm the fish boy! What's your point?"

"Hey! Arguing isn't going anywhere. Listen, Aquagirl can go with you. That'll make sure you stay on task." Robin commands, and you perk up at the sound of your name. You quickly pulled him aside.

"What the hell man?? They obviously don't like each other, you should have seen how much they fought on the way here!." You argue, and Robin looks at you through his masked eyes.

"You're the only other person who can survive underwater, they're gonna need you. Besides, you're great at handling conflicts; you'll be fine." He says with a smile. You blush a little at his comment, and sighed.

"Alright Rob, you can count on me” You return to the rest of the group and the three of you jump into the ocean.

As you headed towards the bottom of the ocean, you decided to ask Aqualad a question that's been bothering you.

“Hey Aqualad,” you say telepathically. “Before you said that you were able to communicate with sea animals. How come you’re able to communicate with me?”

“I don’t know actually,” Aqualad admits, still swimming next to you. He points to your necklace. “I’m guessing it's because of your necklace.” He stops to examine it. Beast Boy groans and stops as well. It glowed a little in his hand as he read the ancient text off of it.

“The Shell of Poseidon,” He read out loud. “I recognize this from the library in Atlantis. Only Atlanteans can use its powers, so you must be Atlantean then, right?”

“Woah! I’m not Atlantean, I’ve never even been there,” you sputter, absolutely shocked at what the teen said.

“Well, you must have some blood in you,” he shrugged. “Hey, maybe we’re cousins or something.”

You grin. “Aquacousin? I like the sound of that!”

Beast Boy interrupts your moment. “Ok, haha, family is fun and all, but while you were floating around finding out parts of your identity or whatever, I’ve actually found something on my sonar so, try to keep up.” He swims off, leaving you two to follow him. You expected to see the sea monster, but instead came upon a group of dolphins.

“No offense B.B. but these don't look like Trident to me.” you smirk.

Aqualad swims up to the dolphins, focusing on his telepathy. The dolphins swim up together and Aqualad turns to you and Beast Boy.

“They told me where to find Trident. Try to keep up.” He mocks Beast Boy, then swims with the dolphins. You look at Beast Boy, who seemed pretty grumpy, and turn to follow Aqualad.

You tailed behind as the two boys raced each other, Beast Boy turning into various aquatic creatures to catch up with the equally competitive teen. Then you see it. In front of them, Trident swam into view. You and Aqualad stop on instinct, but Beast Boy keeps going.

"Beast Boy! Stop!" You both yell, as he barrels straight towards Trident.

"What's the matter?" He taunts. "Am I too fast for y-"

You winced as you watched him crash into the sea monster and fall to the floor.

"Heh… how's it going," Beast Boy says telepathy to the monster towering over him. Trident growled.

"Keep your thoughts to yourself, you inferior fool!" He pointed his well, trident at beast boy and fires; Beast Boy barely dodges it.

Aqualad tackles Trident and they fall off an underwater ridge.

"Oh no you! This time he's mine!" Beast Boy yells, following Aqualad to the ridge.

"Beast Boy wai-" you yell, but was cut off by something grazing the side of your head. You turn, and see Trident swing his weapon at you. You dodged his next swing, wondering how he was able to get to you right after being attacked by Aqualad. You send him flying across the ocean with your water powers, when you hear Beast Boy yelling. You turn to see Beast Boy in squid form latched onto Aqualad's face. You could see Trident swim away from the corner of your eye as you swam to pull Beast Boy off of Aqualad. Aqualad glares at Beast Boy, his face peppered with red dots from Beast Boy's accidental attack.

“I said, ‘incoming’” he defends himself. Aqualad ignores him and points to another figure swimming into a grotto.

“He’s getting away!” Aqualad swims away, Beast Boy following.

“Wait-” you say, confused. Didn't you just send Trident flying in the other direction? How did he move so quickly? You reluctantly followed your friends into the cavern. You joined them as they observed the two tunnels that split off into two different directions.

“What are we gonna do now?” you think out loud.

“Maybe the question is where were you guys?” Aqualad snaps, turning to the two of you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion while Beast Boy swims forward to be face to face with Aqualad.

“Where was I? Fighting Trident by myself!” He jabbed a squid tentacle into Aqualads shoulder.

“You barely laid a tentacle on him! At least I managed to break his weapon!”

“Dude, that's just wrong. I so broke that fork thing!”

“BOYS!” you yell. “I also fought Trident and I sent him in the opposite direction, and now he's here. There's something going on…” The two began to think, but then perked their heads up. They then point at opposite tunnels.

“There he goes!” they yell at the same time. You stare at the two of them in even deeper confusion. Beast boy swims up to you, making eye contact.

“I saw him! He's that way! I'm right, he's wrong! End of story!” He crosses his tentacles. Aqualad pushes Beast Boy aside so that you were now staring at his dark pupils.

"I'm telling you, he's this way!"

"GUYS, we can just split up," You say flatly, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Aqualad I'm sure you can handle yourself, so I'll go with Beast Boy."

"Aw sweet!- Heyyy…" Beast Boy says to your backhanded comment. Aqualad nods and swims off into the tunnel.

You and Beast Boy were alone in the tunnel when you sighed.

"B.B., why do you keep picking fights with Aqualad?" You asked, still looking ahead. Beast Boy turns to you, acting shocked.

"ME??? It's not my fault Mr. Pretty-Boy-Know-It-All keeps showing off!" He whines.

"Dude, he's just trying to help us. Maybe you should-" you were cut off by a loud booming voice.

"Worthless scum! You cannot beat perfection!" Trident bellowed from behind you. You and Beast Boy turned, already in a fighting position.

"How many of you fork things do you have?" He mumbled as you charged forward.

You dodged his energy bolts, Trident in return dodging your attempts to push him farther back. Beast Boy turns into a turtle, pulling his arms and legs inside. Trident threw his weapon and it bounced off of him, flying into you and sending the two of you hurtling through the water.

"I always win!" You hear him say as you regain your stance. Beast Boy turns into a giant crab, grabbing onto Trident's weapon.

"And I thought Aqualad had a big ego!" He yelled telepathically.

"BEAST BOY GET BACK!" You yell. He swiftly let go, and you shot a jet of water towards Trident, sending him flying into a cavern wall. The cavern shakes, and a mass of boulders come crashing down. All you could see was a crushed trident sticking out from under the rocks. You breathed a sigh of relief until you felt a searing pain in your leg. You look and see a burn mark; Trident probably hit you before you buried him in a pile of rocks. Beast Boy looks at you, a worried expression in his eyes (despite being in the form of an ocean animal).

“I’ll be fine,” you grimace. “Let's find a way out first.” You painstakingly swim until you find a cave similar to Aqualads. You drag yourself towards the land as Beast Boy turns back into his human form. Right after you pull yourself up, you see Aqualad jump out of the water. He sees the two of you, and runs to meet up with you. He and Beast Boy begin to talk at the same time.

“ I just saw Trident!... No, you didn't!... Yes, I did! Cut it out!”

“I don’t care what you say! I fought Trident!” Beast Boy yelled, a vein nearly jumping out of his forehead.

"That's impossible!" Aqualad counters, his fists clenched so tight you thought you saw blood.

They both seemed to be prepared to fight each other. You jumped in between them, holding both their heads back as they flail their arms, trying to get a hit at each other.

"You know," You begin, silencing the two boys. "When Robin asked me to join you guys, I didn't want to. You two are heroes that just met each other and you were already fighting! But he told me that I could handle it and he's right! I can handle the both of you; but it seems to me that you guys can't handle each other. So here's what's gonna happen: I'm gonna heal myself because oh right! I got BURNT and you two are gonna talk it out." You let go of the boys, and they watched as you limped over to the edge of the water, plopped yourself down, and started pulling the ocean water to your leg. You listened in a little as you concentrated the water on your leg. It only took a few seconds to heal your burn, it was only surface level and you had gotten better at using your healing powers. They were still talking as you noticed what was in front of you: hundreds of Trident clones and yellow Trident capsules-eggs attached to the ceiling.

"Uh guys…" you say, rejoining them, but they had seen it too.

"One Trident is bad…" Aqualad says.

"... but this is…" Beast Boy adds.

"... an entire …" You say.

"...ARMY!" One of the tridents finishes your thought.

They all charge, and the three of you brace or impact. You raise your arms and a wave of water takes out a small group of the monster clones. You dodge their attacks, shooting jets of water at their heads. You see Beast Boy get flung into a machine, and an egg hatching sequence begins on the screen. You regroup with the other boys in front of the machine.

"Oops," Beast Boy said sheepishly.

"Great," Aqualad groaned as the clones began to close in.

"We need a plan," You mumble.

A group of the clones began to speak.

"My brilliant plan is already a success"

"If one of me was perfect…"

"Why not make more?"

"You can never have too much of a good thing"

"Once my army conquers Atlantis…"

"I will declare war on the surface world! Everyone on the planet will bow down before me"

"And praise my perfection!"

Aqualad whispers to the both of you as the clones cheer. "Any bright ideas?"

Beast Boy whispered back. "Just one. Try to keep up." He turned to the clones. "So if you're all perfect, which one of you is the best?" He asked.

One of the tridents answered. "I am!... Huh?"

As soon as you understood what Beast Boy was doing, you grinned. Aqualad stepped up.

"Come on. You can't all be the best." He says.

"One of you must be better than the others," You add.

One of the tridents step forward. "I am the original!I am the best!"

"You are not the original"

"I am!" Multiple tridents yell at once.

"Nonsense you inferior fools! I am perfect! I am Trident! "

You watch in amusement as the clones turn on each other and the fight turns into a full on brawl. The fight eventually ends, and all the tridents laid on the ground, defeated. Aqualad turns to Beast Boy.

"Great idea," He says. You noticed that there were no hints of sarcasm in his voice. Whatever they said to each other earlier must have made them work better together, you figured.

"Kinda got it from you," Beast Boy says."Now we just have to stop those from hatching." He points to the yellow pod filled ceiling. Right as he said that, the screen on the machine behind you hit 0 on the timer and the word "begin" flashed on the screen.

"Too late!" The three of you yelled at the same time. New Trident clones were breaking through their membrane "eggs". Beast Boy instinctively turns into a hippopotamus and tramples the crowd, creating a path to the ocean. You and Aqualad sprint behind Beast Boy, dodging the clones' outstretched arms. You all dive into the water, the Tridents close behind.

"We can't let them escape! We need to find some way of sealing the exit!" Aqualad yells telepathically.

"Right now, I'm just worried about getting to the exit." Beast Boy replies. You didn't look back, but you could feel the clones closing in. As you got closer to the exit you saw a familiar looking silhouette.

"The T-sub!" You exclaimed as you swam out of the cave. The clones stop in their tracks in confusion.

"Huh?" You hear one of them say.

You moved out of the way as the sub sent beams towards the entrance of the cave. The Blast caused a pile of rubble to fall, blocking the exit. You smile at your team who's cheering (along with Aqualad’s friend Tramm) inside their pods. The three of you turn bad to observe the T-sub’s work.

“Good thing Trident likes himself so much, 'cause I'm thinking he won't see anybody else for a looong time.” Beast Boy says.

You find yourself on the surface again, on the shore of the Titan’s Tower. Raven and Starfire both continue to look at Aqualad with heart eyes as Robin steps forward.

“Consider yourself an honorary titan” he says with a smile, holding out a familiar black and yellow communicator for him to take. “We couldn't have done it without you. Thanks.”

“Right back at you. It's good to know there's people up here I can trust.” Aqualad looks at you and Beast boy. He says goodbye to Raven and Starfire, who blushingly say it back. He then turns to Beast Boy.

“What can I say, dude? You're the best.” Beast Boy says.

“Nah. You're the best.”

“Yeah, you're right. And if you ever want me to prove it, I'm always up for a race.”

“Just try and keep up.” Aqualad laughs, patting his head. He finally turned to you.

“Aquagirl, it's been really nice to meet you. Next time you’re near Atlantis, give me a call and I’ll show you around. There's so much to show you,” he stretched out his hand for a handshake, but you pulled him in for a hug. He was surprised at your gesture, but soon returned it. Raven and Starfire looked at you with pure envy as you pulled back with a smile.

“I’ll take your word for it, Aquacousin” you say, making a reference to your nickname for him earlier. He laughs, then waves goodbye. The six of you wave back as he swims back into the ocean. Robin gently put his hand on your shoulder.

“You did a great job today Aquagirl. I knew I could count on you.”

“You know you can always count on me, dude.” you say with a smile. “Now I’m kinda hungry. Anyone up for pizza?”

[whirlybirbs]

"can you stop moving?" w/ cullen? i loved your other piece 🥺

;   MAULING    —

summary: the hunting party returns.

pairing: cullen rutherford  /  mage ! inquisitor (lavellan)

word count: 1.2k

a/n: i nearly scrapped this but the dialogue was too much fun, and i strongly enjoy cullen being reduced to a worried ball of anxiety over the herald so,,, y’know...... the other great feat in da:i beside corypheus....... bears

It’s Dorian’s voice that Cullen hears first — it’s a curt shout that cuts through the early spring air. Winter has lingered, and as Cullen pushes up from his bed and through the large doors to his quarters, he hears the desperate call for the healers. 

The air is cold against his face. Bitterly so.

It’s early — the sun is just rising over the horizon and as he jumps into his boots, dressed in nothing more than his leathers and tunic, he can hear Sera trying desperately to keep someone’s attention. 

Ser Cullen Rutherford can’t help the way his heart sinks.

You had set out with Dorian, Sera, and Bull two days prior — with the supply lines stretched thin after the battle at Haven, a ride through the Frostbacks may provide some game with spring slowing crawling into the days. There’d been chatter of some rams, fennec, and elk being spotted by scouting parties a week earlier. The entire Council had been thankful for this news — Cullen reasoned full bellies may result in an uptick in morale. 

You’d been eager to take up the task, and... 

“Sure, we can handle it, you said,” comes Bull’s voice, rising above the early morning fray that’s spilling into the courtyard, “Be enough meat for twenty men, you’d said!”

It’s dripping with sarcasm, the angry sort that works itself out of the Qunari under pressure — and as Cullen barrels down the battlements, into the cold air, he finds there’s plenty reason for it.

You’re slipping from the back of Dorian’s mount, into the arms of the healers, when he stumbles upon the scene.

“Oh good,” Dorian croaks, “Now, Cullen is here to witness the height of your stupidity, your worship. Isn’t that nice?”

Cullen’s eyes are wide — and almost immediately Sera has narrowed in on the flash of terrified concern at the gruesome scene before him. She notes that Cullen looks rather disheveled; that tunic of his leaves little to the imagination. Tight in all the right places as Dorian would say. Hm. He’s worried. Cully-wully looks a bit scared. 

The trickster is laughing sheepishly, trying to step into the Commander’s view, when you speak up from the spot on the canvas stretcher. A bloodied finger waggles in the air as the healers shush you.

Maker, there’s mirth in your voice. “Worth it.”

“Was it, Inquisitor?” barks Dorian, moving to hand off the reigns of his horse as he rounds Cullen’s side, “Was it, really?”

“What in Andraste’s name happened?” comes Cullen’s voice, finally, as he spurs into action, pushing past Bull and Sera and Dorian to crouch by the healers. His hands are rasied, as if to silence the fray long enough to wrap his head around just why the Herald of Andraste is now laying amongst the mud. 

You’re in horrid shape, and the amount of blood painting your robes is not lost on the Knight.

You, suddenly, find your pride has run off — and you feel  small under Ser Cullen’s eyes for the first time ever. His hair, all wild blonde tresses that have been muddled with sleep, curls in the morning air. There’s worry etched into his expression and guilt is all that lands on your tongue in reply. It’s like cotton, and suddenly you feel sick. 

(...Has he always been this handsome?)

You’re thankful Dorian is the one to respond in your stead.

“Her ‘holiness’ thought that a black bear might be a worthy opponent this morning,” he waves his hands, dark eyes looking incredulously at the woman he considers to be one of his closest friends — it would be almost laughable, the entire scenario, if the carnage wasn’t so horrible, “Something about pelts! And meat! And Maker knows what else!”

You cry out in pain — and Cullen’s gaze snaps quickly at the sight the peeled away bandages reveal. Bull or Sera or Dorian had done a good enough job patching you up, seeing as somehow you hadn’t bled out. The four long drags of a black bear’s claws run down your jaw, along the curve of your neck and shoulder. They’re deep. They’ve painted your tunic crimson. 

You shiver. Bitterly, you avert your eyes from the lot of them hovering over you. “I hadn’t anticipated the mother —”

“The...!” Cullen’s mouth snaps shut, “Maker, just how many bears were there?” 

At once, the whole party speaks. “Three.”

Cullen, really, can only shake his head and close his eyes. Maker preserve him. “I wish I hadn’t asked.”

“We have,” you inhale sharply as a healer, whose hands glow a warm orange, passes the magic over your cheek, “enough meat to feed the entire camp now.”

Bull tsks. “You almost became a kebab, kid. No use in serving up Inquisitor stew.”

“I —!” 

Your voice drowns in the sudden flash of pain. This is a lesson. A rather nasty one. One that you’re hoping doesn’t scar, but... with the way the healers are chattering in hushed tones in Elvish has you imagining just how gnarly the wound is. It certainly felt like a lesson that would lay etched into your skin for months to come. 

“Just rest, Inquisitor,” Cullen sighs, and you wonder how hard you’d hit your head on the way down — he looks nothing like his usual part, stripped of armor and furs. Now, in the morning sun, he’s no Knights Templar, no war-born Keeper of Mages, no lion crested Commander of the Second Inquisition. 

He’s simply Cullen. 

Exhausted, worried, and freezing Cullen.

“You’re going to need your beauty sleep now, my dear,” Dorian chirps, shaking his head, “Gone and ruined your beauty this has.”

Cullen frowns at that. You see it. It’s gone in a blink.

The tension you two had been playing upon for the last month is gone. Evaporated. In its stead, concern lingers. It snatches your breath. 

Guilt, still, sits on your tongue.

“The meat...” 

Your voice wanders off, finger hanging in the air — but, Cullen catches the meaning. He’ll have requisitions see to it. Sure enough, there’s an obscene amount being towed by Bull’s stead. In a make-shift, stick sled lay three enormous pelts and enough meat to keep everyone’s bellies full for the night.

Then this was not for nothing.

Cullen stands and you both avert your gazes.

“I’ll see to it that it’s cleaned and prepared, your worship,” and then, as he leans from one boot to the other and props his hands upon his hips, he speaks a bit amusedly, “And do get some beauty sleep.”

In the cold morning air, you sense a thaw. Not only of the ground but perhaps between the Knight-Commander and yourself.

And it’s not entirely unwelcome.

[seancekitsch]

Out of the Rain: a Marko x Reader fic

Warnings: bloodplay goes without saying bc vamp, rough sex, dirty talk, semi public sex, telepathy?? me projecting my music taste on this fic again. drug use, fast and loose use of vampire lore bc when i write i am god and u cannot stop me. also can u tell i have like…. v clear descriptions of the setting like i used to work at the place im describing but its not in california

No one had come in for hours. What's the point of staying open? You dim some of the lights in the store, which is one of three head shops in Santa Carla, but the only one open late. You're not really sure why this is the only store that stays open, why everyone else if worried about the three am walk back to their car on a weekend night. You've never seen anything of suspicion, just sometimes that biker gang watches people shuffle out. That was almost comforting, though. People didn't like those guys, so no one would make you use your switchblade if they were around.

The bright while fluorescent lights of your typical daytime ambiance faded away, and now green light bathes you in the “mood” lighting your boss thought was a good idea. The green lighting reflects off of the glass counters, shining it back at the ceiling and making everything that much more green. It fits, you think with the overall vibe of the store. The stale scent of weed, gently and miserably covered up by some nag champa incense, always burning in at least four different spots within the store. You'd long since gotten used to the smoke in your eyes. The music does everything to add to the ambiance. You always have full control of the music in the shop, usually because no one else is willing to take the night shift in Santa Carla. In fact, most of the boardwalk shops had a revolving door of night shift workers. You never got why, something clearly spooks them that does not spook you. Whether that makes you brave or stupid, you dont know. Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow pumps through the speakers in the store. But I suppose no one knows, you're my plastic fantastic lover.

The rain batters the boardwalk outside, a roar much different than the typical hustle and bustle of drunk teens, of the cliques and crews that come in and out; the few that sit and snicker in the doorway, never entering. Some too afraid to be associated with the implication of being spotted in the shop. We sell jewelry and vinyl too, you always say, when they balk at the idea of being in the same room as a bong or incense.

But then there's the other group that stands and idles in the threshold, also not entering. It's that biker gang. Four guys, a girl, a kid. Maybe he’s the brat of the girl and the one who takes himself too seriously, but maybe not. She looks too young for that. They'd been hovering around quite a bit lately, always after dark. You’d spoken to them, at least the ones that are talkative. The hair metal wannabe and the cute short one. Paul and Marko. You knew the dark haired one was Dwayne, but all he ever offered you was a curt nod and a tight lipped smile, respectful but indifferent. They're nice, not worth the spooky reputation they have. Any time it's not just you at the shop, your boss tries to spook them away. Good thing your boss isn't here tonight, because one of them is prowling around the storefront in the rain. That is, if it's not your spliff induced haze playing tricks on you.

No, one of them is out there. Without his little pack. The cute one. Marko.

You walk over to the door, which you haven't had propped open since the rain trickled in as a drizzle at the beginning of your shift. At least he had enough sense to be huddling under the awning. Fuck, he’s handsome even when he looks like a drowned rat.

“What are you doing out here?” You scrunch up your nose as you ask.

“Y’know, waiting for you to show up.” Wanted a look at that cute ass.

You blink at him. Did he really just say that?

“Okay… well, you know it's raining out there, right?”

“I might,” he offers noncommittally, eyeing the spliff still in the hand that's not holding the door. If it were anyone but him, you'd probably get fired for it.

Why is he just hanging around out here? That's hella weird. His curls are getting matted to his forehead, slick with rain, his jacket starting to look a little sad.

“C’mon in, Marko. It’s too wet out here. You’ll fuck up your jacket.” You nod towards the interior of the shop holding the door open as he passes you.

Wrong move, sweet cheeks.

“What did you say?” What did he mean, wrong move?

“I didn't say anything,” he offers nonchalantly as he thumbs at one of the tapestries on the wall. A garish mess that’s supposed to be the worm from Alice in Wonderland, but it’s distorted by a botched tie dye job of dark muddy colors. Every time you look at it, you assume one of the day workers did it.

“No, you said something.”

“Do you want me to say something?” there's both a threat and an innuendo in his tone. Maybe you do, but you just laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose, and bring the spliff to your lips again as he follows you deeper into the store.

You jump up onto the counter next to the ash tray, easy reach for each time you need to ash.

“So why are you really here?” your eyes narrow at him, kicking your sandal off on the floor where it lands a few inches from his boots. He looks uneasy in the space, like for all the wild shit you assume he’s into, he might not actually belong in it. He sways a little to the music, perfectly in tune with the rhythm. You sway along too, and suddenly he fills the space like he belongs. He just needed someone along for the ride with him.

“Do you ever come around during the day, or just at night because I’m so fun?” You’re teasing him, but it’s a nice easy feeling between you.

“Not really a sun guy,” bullshit, he would look beautiful with a tan, “but I do drag everyone here just to see you.”

“Awww, all for me? Do you have a crush, Marko?”

It’s more than that. You hear the words clearly, but his smile doesn’t move. You kick the other sandal off.

“I can hear you, I don’t know how, but I can. I bet you can hear me too.”

I can. You’re wrong about the tan thing.

You straighten up, mind clearing as you blurt out your next question. Something absolutely stupid.

“So what are you, a vampire or something?” he laughs at you, but his big toothy smile doesn't reach his eyes. No, there's something predatory, extremely dark in his eyes. Otherworldly.

How could you guess?  

“Well, that for one big fucking clue.” You ash the spliff for the final time, leaving the roach in the tray. You would think you’d be more surprised, more upset that you just found out vampires were real, and that you were in the same room as one. You have to say, weirder things are probably afoot in Santa Carla. Murder capital of the world can’t all be from some rowdy teens and a ten year old.

“You do those surf nazis?” is all that leaves your mouth. You kind of hope it was. They were the fucking worst. Racist, misogynistic, destructive. You’d had to threaten them a few times to leave your store on your shift.

“The—? Oh! Surf nazis. Yeah that was us. Ate a few of them.”

“Good for you. I mean— murder. bad. But they were nazis, and now they’re dead. so…” you trail off. Not really sure what to say next, but then you keep going. Remember everything you know about Marko.

“No, no I mean, it makes sense. Right? You and the guys only hang around at night. Aren’t vampires solitary hunters though? I don’t remember Dracula being in a frat.”

“They’re my pack. We take care of each other.” He says it with such fondness and devotion.

You feel a pang of jealousy run through you. You work alone for the most part, live alone, you’ve got friends but they’re all over the place. He belongs to something.

“And you're down with this?” he’s legitimately asking. You nod. You don't really have a choice, you're down or you get eaten, but like genuinely you are down with it. If he was going to eat you, he probably would have by now. There's probably a reason they've been hanging around the store, and in your sightline while you close up. You're putting things together.

“Like really?”

“Well, you haven't made me a kebab yet.”

He shrugs, frowns.

“Could still skewer you on something.”

Laughter erupts from your lips while you roll your eyes, music to Marko’s ears. This is why he took a shine to you, it's easy to get along with you, and you're not one of his brothers.

Something heavy falls in the room, and it's not the haze of the incense. He steps towards you, big blue eyes raking over your body, but always coming back to meet your gaze. He closes the space between you, easily fitting between your thighs; the rough patches of his jacket brushing against your bare skin where your shorts ride up. He leans in, like he's about to kiss you, and against all better judgement, you're going to let him.

You're going to let him.

The record skips. He holds out his hand, more like a gentleman than a biker gang killer, and helps you off the counter.

“Hold on, let me pick out a new record,” you turn without waiting for his confirmation, not at all surprised when Marko follows hot on your heels to the back room. Your boss’ office, the record room. Whatever you wanted to call it. His hands ghost over your arms as you push past the wooden bead curtain to enter the room. You can feel his presence close enough to touch. That's it, right where I want you. There’s his voice again.

He lets you actually pick out a new record. You slide it out of the sleeve and walk it over to the player. The static buzzes and pops as the needle finds the groove.

“Ocean Rain, you heard it?” No. He shakes his head, and you can feel it as he leans into your back.

“Echo and the Bunnymen. They've got a new album coming out this year.”

You turn to face him and his fingerless leather glove clad hands cover your cheeks.

He kisses you gently, tenderly. Not at all the way you’d expect. He’s eager, kissing like there’s something to prove. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue pushing your lips apart and you let him. His arms tighten around you as you kiss, tongues now greeting each other playfully. Your tongue explores his mouth, running along each and every tooth in his mouth. Huh, no fangs, you realize, and maybe he isn't actually a vampire. As if he reads your mind (maybe he does), he pulls away.

“They're, uh, hiding,’ he nods, almost to himself more than you. You nod as well, slow and uneasy, not quite believing him, but he pulls you back into a harsh kiss, more of what you expected. His hands roam your body as yours bury themselves in his curls. Still damp, but long and beautiful just as well. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders, and his hands only briefly leave you to throw it and his gloves somewhere else, leaving him just in a thin white tank top. His mouth leaves yours to trail lower, kissing your neck. Your pulse point. Fucking irresistable. No, that's definitely his voice. Is this the end? Could be.

“I can smell you, hot stuff,” he moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You find yourself gripping onto his shoulders a little tighter, but he lets you sink. He guides you, again more gently than you thought he would; bare knees brushing the threadbare carpet floor before you plant yourself. You look up at him through your lashes and he all but bites back a groan.

“You gonna join me down here?” You lick your lips, waiting for something.

“Nah, I’m gonna let you have a head start,” there's a joke in his tone. You're learning that’s normal for him. He’s silent, or playing jester. It’ll be interesting when you let him fuck you. Shit, did he hear that?

“Quit thinkin’ so loud!” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair. “But yes, I heard you. Glad you're as eager as I am.”

That's encouraging. You take your time undoing his belt, connected to faded and soft leather chaps, not bothering to push them down his thighs before you move to the top of his jeans, teasing your fingers at the skin just above the waistline. He shudders under your touch, extremely reactive. Does he get touched like this often? Or is it just quick fucks? You don't want to think about who else he might be doing this with, focusing again on his body, and all of the offending clothing covering it. You unbutton them slowly, teasing. For a member of the undead, he seems to be out of breath under your movements. The zipper is pulled down just as slowly. You run your palms flat along the bottom of his stomach, to his hips before pushing his jeans down to around his ankles, hooking his boxers on your finger along with them. He’s beautiful, and you can help but stare. Hard, eager, and thick, greeting you with a small trimmed patch of golden blonde curls. You wrap your hand around the base.

You never expected a vampire to whimper, but that's exactly what happens when your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the head of his cock. Quick, tentative little lick, testing the waters. Your tongue swipes across the slit at the tip of his thick member and his hands animate like you flipped a switch, rising up, going to your hair, rising up again, slamming down against the desk. Your boss’ desk. You lick a long stripe to the underside of his cock, paying close attention to the prominent vein there.

“So good, so good, oh you feel so-” he pants out, hands white knuckling the edge of the desk. Heat pools in your core, loving that he’s so vocal. Fuck, if he could just keep speaking. Your other hand moves to your shorts, sloppily and hastily undoing them and wiggling them down to your knees. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down on it, taking him as far as you can, until you couch when he hits the back of your throat.

“You look fucking beautiful like that. Please move, Please move, you’re so fucking good at this.”

You do, starting to bob your head up and down on the length of him, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue against him, cupping and massaging his balls in your hand. Your free finds itself between your legs, rubbing gently at your clit, stirred and encouraged by his praise.

“Does sucking me off get you hot and bothered?” Yesitdoes.

You keep bobbing your head, rubbing your clit, eyes trained on his until his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in your mouth.

“Don't wanna- don't wanna finish in your mouth,” he’s urgent, grabbing you by the chin and pulling your mouth off of his cock. He pushes you back by your shoulders, letting you guide yourself back to lay on the rug. He pulls your loose shorts easily off your legs and settles himself between your legs, too eager to bother with removing his boots and everything.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Do you know how bad I wanted this?”

“Fuck me, Marko, dont say it. Just do it,” youre breathless under him, wanting nothing more than for him to be fucking you. He pauses.

“I dunno…” his thumb swipes up along your clit, drawing a whine from your throat, “For some reason I think you like it when I say things.”

You nod, knowing words will fail you. And he gives you what you want, lining himself up and sinking into you, groaning as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“Oh I knew your pussy would feel like fucking heaven,” he pants against your neck, pressing a harsh kiss to the underside of your jaw. He sets the pace quickly, unmerciful and fast, fucking hard and deep into you. His hands push up your thin tee shirt, and you can feel his sigh of relief when he gets a handful of bare breast. He doesn't have to deal with a bra tonight. You hike your knees up, opening yourself as much as you can to him, wanting him to fill you to the brim. He looks into your eyes while he fucks you, which comes as a surprise to you. Maybe it shouldn't. You wonder what it would be like to be a victim of his. Does he treat them well? Have fun with them like this? Or is he vicious? You don't know if you could picture him like that… vamped out.

“What does it feel like?”

“What?” he thrusts sharply, snapping his hips into you, making you yelp.

“To be fed on, but not to die.”

Are you serious? You hear him in your head.

YesIam. He thrusts like that again, earning an identical yelp, now coupled with your thighs squeezing him around the middle. You're close already, and he can tell.

He nods, a question; You nod, confirmation.

He pulls at the neckline of your shirt, already scooping so it doesn’t ruin, and exposes your shoulder. Somewhere non lethal. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, covering your neck but being careful not to squeeze it. You hope he bruises your jaw, you realize. A physical way to feel him when dawn comes. He slows his pace to a rocking, grinding into you, staying deep.

Then he bites. Stars erupt behind your eyes, and it feels like your blood has turned to seltzer. Every nerve in your body is in overdrive as you moan and shake and come undone around his cock. You're the kind of girl that comes from the bite of a vampire, apparently. He doesn’t let up. You can faintly hear him moaning against the open wound in your shoulder, and you hope you taste good to him. He licks the wound a few times more, softly, carefully, like he’s trying to soothe you when he finally lets you come down from your high.

When he pulls back to let you see him, his features are gruesome, full vampire with sharp brows and cheekbones, pointed nose even that much more so almost birdlike. Fangs and bottom half of his face covered in blood.Your blood.  He’s panting like an animal after the kill. But he doesn't scare you. Maybe he should, but he doesn't.  It's just Marko, no matter what, and if he wanted to eat you he would have. Several times now. His hand finally releases your jaw, to wipe the blood from his face. He wipes his hand then on your face, covering you in your own blood, hot on his fingers and palm.

“Fuckin sexy,” he pants, voice deeper and distorted. His thrusts speed up, trying to find his own release as your nails dig into his back, maybe making him bleed as well. You feel the rug burn forming on your back, you feel tears in your eyes. It's never felt this good with other guys.

When he comes, he comes with a howl, buried deep inside you as he shouts and shivers then stills above you. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain yourself as his face slowly fades to normal, and he slumps down on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, near the wound he tore open, now no longer bleeding. He mouths at any bare skin he can find, lazy half kisses as he spreads more mess and blood on you. Your fingers find his curls again, winding them around your digits as you stare up at the sickly green mood lighting bathing the walls of the room.

An hour later, Marko is helping you lock up early.

He makes sure to dump out all of the ashes from spliffs and incense, makes sure the vinyl is all in its right place while you make sure the register and inventory is all in its rightful place and order.

“You’re dangerous, you know.”

“Me?” you scoff, “That rich, coming from you.”

I’d do a lot of things I’m not supposed to for you. You kinda don't want to ask him what he means by that. For some reason that feels like a conversation you shouldn't have tonight. 

He leaves the store before you, holding the door open for you and letting you lock the doors. He slings an easy arm over your shoulder, not bothering to shield either of you from the rain as he steers you towards your car. You can feel the rain cleaning your face, the blood flowing away and saving you the shower you were going to take before collapsing into bed tonight.

“Where’s your bike?”

“I flew here,” he says with that devilish smile, and you're really not sure if he's joking or not. Your arm sneaks its way into his jacket and wraps around his waist, holding him close as he makes sure you get home same. Marko makes you feel calm, in a way you didn't feel before you moved to Santa Carla. How long had he been waiting to make his move? And does this mean he and his brothers would be coming around more often? Maybe being more friendly towards you. Each step towards your car feels heavy; You don't want to go home alone without him, but somehow you know he won't come with you. 

“Will I see you again?”

He grabs your car keys from your hand, and sticks them in the door handle. Of course you will.

Right. You just have to be near the beach at night. You know, where you work.

He kisses you full on the mouth, holding you close and tight, like you could slip away at any second. When he finally lets you go you pull away to be met with his face, full on grinning, his eyes still closed from the kiss. He doesn't look like a killer.

Marko watches you as you pull open the door to your car and more or less throw your ass into the seat.  He holds the door as he gives you one last smile, and says:

“You know, you should never invite a vampire into your life. Renders you powerless.”

And he winks. 

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Boys and sticks - Chapter 30 🍝

Fandom: Hobbit (College AU)

Characters: @linasofia x Thorin, @laurfilijames x Fíli, me x Ori

Words: 1,6k

Warnings: drunkenness and feelings...Oh..and a kiss

Previous chapters

Silence whistled in my ears and forced the air out of my lungs. If I wanted to say something, now was the moment to speak, if I wanted to stop him from this, now was the moment to get off my bed…and I did no such thing.

I just sat there as his hand slid under my chin, along the side of my neck and up until his thumb was hooked around my ear and his fingers scraped along the nape of my neck, and still, I did not move away, I did nothing to stop him.

When my mind started to swim – even though I had barely touched my beer – I realised that I was holding my breath.

His lips sank down on mine so slowly, I would have had ample time to flinch back as was pointed out later to me, but I just kept staring at his closed eyes until my own rolled back in delight. It was a brush at best, at first, sweet and tender, skin on skin.

At some point, a light pressure against the side of my skull made me tilt my head and his lips plucked ever so slightly at mine; yes, there was a hint of suction and the ghost of his warm breath grazing over sensitive flesh.

And then the world fell away around me as his tongue, tasting of beer and yearning, pushed into my mouth and I flung myself against him – penned up frustration and muted feelings breaking free all at once – inhaling him greedily as those slender fingers closed around the back of my skull and my brain seemed to explode.

His other hand smoothed along the back of my dress, and I wondered if it would be so very bad to just take it off for a moment – just for a tiny moment – before realising that the seconds stretched on and on, and the others were watching us.

Oh, but it was impossible to let go of him now that his hands were in my hair, on my body, and his mouth was on mine so hungrily that I forgot that I needed to breathe or how to even draw breath.

“That one counts and Jia wins,” Lo cheered behind me and her voice broke the spell – finally – so I could come up as if from a deep dive, gasping for breath, and trembling with emotion.

“Jesus Christ, woman, leave something to be buried,” Fíli chuckled, apparently insinuating that I was cannibalising his friend and cousin, which was…fair.

“I would call on Thorin to get us food, but he’s failed at that once already today,” Ori grinned, visibly happy with himself and the world in this very second. Thorin made a face at him which was unmistakeably annoyed.

“Can I leave you here without you trashing the place completely?” I asked, eyeing them suspiciously. I could get pasta from the joint just down the street or maybe a kebab, but I really was not sure that I would not return to find them in pretzel formation fornicating all over the place.

“I will keep an eye on your things,” Ori promised brushing his lips against my temple and I groaned: “You, my dear, can eat my underwear and set my bed aflame if that pleases you, just don’t stop doing that.”

“Oh?” God, I didn’t need food, all I needed was to stay here and let him kiss me breathless again, but they were hungry, and we had to provide, like they had for us. So, deciding to take the other women with me – for good measure – I got up to set out bravely.

A few minutes later, after another longish session of kisses and cuddles, we were on our way to get food, feeling like proper gatherers ourselves as we left our exhausted hunters in their hut to rest after their strenuous activities.

“Do you think they’ll rummage through the drawers?” Tova wondered aloud, but I was almost convinced that they were too honourable for that but – then again – they were rather tipsy.

“I just hope Fí doesn’t find a way to kill himself while we’re gone,” Lo bit her lip, honestly worried about that kid.

We hastened our steps, making it to the small snack shop and back in record time, stopping in front of the door when we saw the flyer pasted onto the cheap plywood. ‘Halloween Party’ was scrawled in large letters across it.

I had forgotten about it, but on the bottom of the flyer were already the names and numbers of potential dates for the – ridiculously important – event; it was news to me that men simply signed up as if they were enrolling and that women then called the one they liked best – it seemed rather callous, even to me.

Soft music came from the inside of the room and we paused – confused – opening the door very slowly, only to find three fast asleep men snoring softly. It felt strangely like the bears coming home to find Goldilocks asleep in their bed.

They had turned on the bathroom radio, listening to my soppy shower playlist, and were peacefully slumbering. Thorin lay sideways across Tova’s bed, while Ori was neatly tucked into mine, and Fíli leaned against my bed, his head fallen back onto the mattress.

“Oh well, that’s a sight,” I admitted, setting down the food on the small table standing between the two beds.

“I think…I wonder…” Lo looked around as if she was afraid that someone would catch or interrupt her and then bent down to breathe a light kiss onto the golden hair of the man she pretended she was not dating.

“They are adorable,” Tova sighed, leaning against the doorframe, her face soft and full of honest, deep affection.

“I think I’ll take Fí to my room, let him sleep some more and heat his food up later,” Lo declared with iron resolution; she was not allowed boys in her room, this much was sure, and if Thrandy blabbed, she’d be in hot water, but she seemed decided to not let that stop her.

“We should do something nice for them,” Tova said after a moment, not having moved a single inch, “I think we should take them out on a date. Thorin seemed to have enjoyed the ride, maybe, I could take him up to the lake on the bike?”

“I can take Fí riding, and we’ll meet you at the lake, later, much later.” Lo seemed to agree.

“I’ve fucked this up so royally, so I…I’ll take princess on a proper date, limo and boating, champagne on ice,” I muttered, looking at his cute little face buried in my pillow. An orphan? A pauper? I’d roll out the red carpet for that man.

“Jia…that kiss…I swear on all that is holy in this world, he is in love with you,” Lo grabbed my wrist and shook it a few times, “I promised you my honest assessment and here it is, you hold that brittle, virgin, little heart of his in your open palm, don’t let anger or fear make you clench your fist.”

“What about you?” I shot back – defensive and unwilling to hear her – looking at her insistently.

“All he has to do is say the word,” Lo just shrugged, “and I’ll leave everything behind.”

Ah, what faith she had in that young man, sunken in the slumber of the just and righteous; I was almost certain that he would say the word if he knew that she would follow it like the rats followed the Pied Piper.

Would he lead her astray?

“Thank you for today, I am looking forward to repeating that,” Lo hugged me gently and – for once – I did not freeze. Yes, it had been a good day, maybe even the best I had ever had. And it was not over yet.

“Sweetling?” I sat down on the edge of my bed, brushing a strand of hair out of Ori’s face.

“Let’s go, I’ll bring you back to your room, hmmm?” I whispered as he opened one eye and frowned.

“Will you stay?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep; it was only after I had nodded – hesitatingly – that he scrambled up, kicking poor Fíli awake in the process.

“Bye,” Lo took their part of the food and steered a disoriented and cursing Fíli out of the room, shushing him gently and snuggling as close to him as she could while they were walking out. Yes, they definitely belonged together.

“Bye Thorin,” I bent over his slowly blinking form and patted his cheek, “I am very fond of you.”

“Thank you, Jia, I’m sorry if I was a brat,” he mumbled, rubbing at one eye with his fist and reminding me of an overgrown toddler.

“It was a lovely day, and I won’t forget it,” I sighed, taking the hand he extended to me and pressing it gently, “you aremy friend.”

A beautiful, honest, and strangely vulnerable smile split his face then as he said: “Thank you again.”

It hit me suddenly – not violently like a punch in the gut, rather like a ray of sunlight that had struggled for minutes to break through the clouds – that I wanted this forever; I wanted Halloween and Christmases, birthdays and TV evenings, I wanted a future with those strange people. I wanted to meet their family and be invited to barbecues; I wanted the whole chaotic shebang.

Sitting up, Thorin snatched the flyer we had taken off our door and – within an instant – his mien darkened and a fearsome frown cleft his stern brow. “What is that and who are they?” he demanded to know, waving the piece of paper accusingly.

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 13

part 1 | part 12 | part 14

A/N: Here’s a cute little part. Occurs in ‘the headband’ episode, but doesn’t encompass the whole episode, just the important parts :)

Y/N sat there in silence after Aang told her what he had learned in just one day at a Fire Nation school. What did that mean for her education of five years at one? She tugged one of their blankets around her shoulders because even next to the fire she was shivering. She felt like she had been punched hard in the stomach and all the wind was knocked out of her. 

“I don’t know about this,” Aang whispered. “It feels wrong to steal someone else’s clothes.”

Katara and Y/N exchanged a look. “I call the silk robe!” Katara shouted as she jumped over the rocks they had hidden behind. 

“But I guess if it’s for the good of humanity… I call the suit!” Aang followed her. 

The rest of them joined and ran between the lines of clothes looking for anything that might fit. Y/N was reaching for a pair of pants when Katara stopped her. “Pick something else.”

“Why?”

“People are used to seeing you wear Fire Nation clothes. You’ll be more recognizable if you pick something you always wear.”

“Fine.” Y/N wrinkled her nose and pulled a deep red skirt from the clothesline. 

“This too.” She whipped a shirt at Y/N’s face. When she caught a look at it she shook her head wildly. “No way!” Y/N worked to keep her voice low so the man they were stealing from couldn’t hear her. “It’ll be hard enough to fight in a skirt, Katara. I’m not wearing it.”

---

Y/N poked at the bare skin of her midriff. “I mean seriously, Katara. I have to shrug this shirt on like it’s a robe and it ties in the back. If a bad guy gets ahold of that I’ll be half-naked.”

Katara pulled her hair out of its braids and hair loopies and didn’t spare a glance at the other girl. “You complain almost as much as Sokka.”

Y/N huffed and crossed her arms. “I don’t.” She unwound the leather tie around her braid and let her hair hang loose down her back, tying a similar top knot to Katara’s. “Let’s just go find the others.”

“How do we look?” Katara asked the other three. Y/N gave a very unenthusiastic twirl. Y/N turned back to notice how Aang’s eyes widened and he blushed as he looked at Katara. Y/N raised an eyebrow and glanced at Katara’s face, who was looking back at Aang with soft eyes. What is going on here? Y/N hummed in thought.

“You look like a girl,” Sokka said as his eyes bounced from Y/N’s skirt to her face. 

“Thank you for that astute observation. I am a girl,” Y/N replied drily. 

Sokka was blushing furiously. “No, I mean–”

“Oh, Katara. Your necklace,” Aang interrupted. 

Katara rubbed the carved bone. “I guess it’s pretty obviously from the Water Tribe.”

“Don’t worry,” she patted Katara’s shoulder. “We’ll get you something else in town so it doesn’t feel like you lost it.”

 ---

Y/N slid the new bracelet she had bought around her upper arm while she listened to Aang talk. All of them bought something to make their disguises more authentic, while also being able to feel more like themselves; a new Fire Nation necklace for Katara, a flame pin to hold together Sokka’s top knot, a headband for Toph and the bracelet to help hide the burn scar on Y/N’s bicep. 

“I used to visit my friend Kuzon here a hundred years ago. Just follow my lead.” Aang confidently turned the corner of the building they were behind and winked at a guy on the street. “Greetings, my good hotman!”

Toph pulled on Y/N’s elbow. “Is this really how they talk in the Fire Nation?”

“Uhh.. you know, I didn’t go into the city much but I’m almost one hundred percent positive that no they don’t,” Y/N whispered.

“Spirits, do not stop him. This is hilarious,” Toph laughed as Aang tipped his head to another man walking by, calling him ‘hotman’.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I wish you could see the looks people are giving him.” 

The five of them stopped in front of a restaurant. “Oh, I didn’t know we were going to a meat place,” Aang said a little dejectedly

“Everyone here eats meat!” Sokka exclaimed. “Even the meat!” He pointed over to a cow-hippo who was eating meat off the ground. Y/N’s stomach turned at the sight. Maybe she didn’t want to eat meat today either. 

---

Aang left, promising to meet them in the same spot outside after he found something vegetarian. Ten minutes had passed and there was still no sign of him. Katara was beginning to pace with worry. 

“He could have gotten lost looking for something to eat, right?” She asked the rest of them.

“We could go look around for him?” Y/N offered. When she noticed the hint of fear in Katara’s eyes, she added, “Nothing happened to him of course. He probably just got lost! Or he’s looking at some shop. How about you and Toph stay here, wait for him to see if he comes back. Sokka and I can wander the town looking for him.”

“We can?” Sokka asked. 

Y/N nudged his ribs. 

“We can,” he confirmed. He popped the last bit of his elk-caribou kebab in his mouth and threw the stick away. “Aang will come back and we’ll feel silly for being worried about him.”

“I hope you’re right, Sokka.” Katara said. 

---

“Ooh, let’s look in this shop,” Sokka marveled, pulling Y/N along with him. It was only a shop full of little trinkets and bags but everything Sokka saw excited him. 

“What do you think of this bag?” Sokka tossed the strap over his shoulder and posed. 

“You have an Earth Kingdom bag back at camp that looks the same,” she retorted.

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but now that we’re here, I need a Fire Nation one.” 

Y/N shrugged and Sokka took that as her statement on what she thought of the bag. He placed it back on the table and picked up a ceramic box. “What about this box?” he asked.

She took it from his outstretched hands and inspected it. It was a black box with a golden Fire Nation flame on top. “What are you going to put in the box?” she asked as she handed it back to him.

“I–um, cool rocks that I find?”

Y/N hummed, amused. “And what are you going to do with the box full of cool rocks?”

“Put it in my bag,” Sokka muttered. “Fine! I won’t get it!” 

---

“You’re not very fun to shop with.” Sokka said when they left. 

Y/N looked up at the sun to check the time. “We’re supposed to be looking for Aang, not shopping.”

Sokka waved his hands. “Aang is fine. He’s the Avatar, he can take care of himself.” 

“I’m assuming by the way Katara reacted that he doesn’t necessarily go off by himself a lot.”

“Katara–” he paused to think of the right word, “–she mother-hens us.” He held up his hands defensively. “Not that I’m saying we don’t need it, because sometimes it’s nice, but she worries entirely too much.”

Y/N stopped a fruit stand and picked up a ripe peach. “I don’t know, it’s kind of nice.” She passed along a few coins to the merchant and handed a second one to Sokka. 

“How is it nice?” Sokka asked, then bit into the flesh of the peach.

“I don’t know. The way I grew up there was never anyone worried about when I would come home, you know? I just came and went as I pleased and then when I moved to the palace it was the same way.”

“You lived at the palace?” Sokka blurted out.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Y/N watched as Sokka cut the pit of the peach out with a small knife and tossed it into the road. He nodded at her to continue. “I moved to the capital to go to school and about a year after, I moved into the palace.” She bit into the peach and wiped the juice off her chin with the back of her hand. 

“Why though? Why not live with your parents?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Do you always ask this many questions?”

“I’m just trying to figure you out,” Sokka stuttered. 

“Why?” Y/N giggled. She abruptly stopped when Sokka blushed and gave her a look she couldn’t decipher. 

“I just want to,” he finally said. “We don’t know anything about you.”

“Well, if you must know–it’s embarrassing–but my parents encouraged it actually. They were ecstatic that I was able to get close to the Royal Family and even though we weren’t nobility they had this absurd fantasy that I could marry Zuko.” Y/N covered her face in humiliation. 

Sokka shared a look of disgust. “Fire Prince Ponytail, huh?”

She smiled at the joke, but it faded quickly; the hurt of Zuko’s betrayal still heavy on her heart. “He wasn’t always like that.” Y/N ran quickly to his defense. “I knew him when he was still good.”

Sokka collapsed on the ground and leaned up against a wall. “So tell me about it.”

Y/N sat next to him and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “About what?”

“Your palace life, Princess.”

---

The sun was setting when her and Sokka headed back to the cave. The streets were lined with paper lanterns and Y/N could hear lively music being played somewhere. It was busier than it was during the heat of the day and Sokka and Y/N were frequently bumped into from all sides, right into one another. Finally, after losing him twice in the crowd she looped her arm through his. She felt him tense up under her touch, but immediately relaxed. 

“Oh, hey, what’s that?” She pointed off in the distance to a wooden board that looked like it had pictures posted all over it. She weaved them around the crowd to stand in front of it. It was a bulletin board full of advertisements, lost items, found items, and wanted posters. Her eyes ran across the assortment of them–The Blue Spirit, an Admiral named Jeong-Jeong–until her eyes landed on one in particular. 

“Yeah, they put these out when we first started traveling with Aang.” Sokka poked at a yellowing poster of Aang in his airbender clothes. “Luckily they won’t be hunting for him anymore.”

“Yeah. They aren’t hunting you,” Y/N pointed at the only poster that drew her attention. The one with a similar likeness to her face. “But I think they’re hunting me now.” 

Sokka peered around them to see if anyone was watching and ripped the poster down and shoved it in his pocket. “We need to tell the others.”

They only stopped running when they reached the mouth of the cave, the sun low in the sky. 

“Where were you two?!” Katara scolded. “We waited for you to come back but you never did!” 

“We looked around for Aang but–” Sokka started. He unfolded the poster from his pocket. 

“Well did you find him?” She asked.

Sokka and Y/N shared a look. “You mean you didn’t?” Y/N fretted. 

“No and Toph and I came back here when we couldn’t find anyone–”

The four of them jumped a noise outside. Y/N reached back instinctively to grab the hilt of her sword just when Aang strode in with Momo perched on his shoulder. His clothes were muddy and there was dirt on his face like he’d been chased through the woods but he was smiling. “Hey guys!” 

“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” Katara raced to pull him into a hug. 

Aang sheepishly pulled off his headband. “I got invited to play with some kids after school.” 

Sokka’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “After what?!”

“I enrolled in a Fire Nation school and I’m going back tomorrow.” 

“Enrolled in what?!” Y/N thought Sokka was going to pass out. 

“Let’s just sit down and talk about it,” Y/N suggested. 

“I’m learning about all the propaganda they teach–”

Behind her, Y/N knew that Sokka was still talking, still flailing his arms around but she couldn’t hear the words he was saying because–

“Propaganda?”

Everyone froze, unsure of what to do next. Y/N could hear Toph behind her by the fire. “Oh no.”

“Um–”

Y/N wasn’t sure what to think. “No, don't even think about not telling me! What do you mean they teach propaganda at Fire Nation schools?”

---

Y/N sat there in silence after Aang told her what he had learned in just one day at a Fire Nation school. What did that mean for her education of five years at one? She tugged one of their blankets around her shoulders because even next to the fire she was shivering. She felt like she had been punched hard in the stomach and all the wind was knocked out of her. 

What did Sokka, Katara, Aang and Toph think of her as they realized that these were the things that she grew up learning? That she had foolishly believed that the Air Nomads–known pacifists–had created an army big enough to destroy the Fire Nation so they had to be taken out first. That the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes, after hearing of the destruction of all the Air Temples and supposedly the Avatar, had joined together and invaded the Fire Nation. That she had believed in and supported the idea that the Fire Nation was doing the right thing, that cleansing the world of troublemakers and creating obedience and peace in the villages was ‘the only way’. 

In the back of her mind, Y/N was trying to reason with herself, You knew the whole time. That’s why you left, that’s why you're trying to do good with the Avatar; to right the wrongs of your Nation. But it didn’t matter. She’d believed long enough for it to be harmful.

“Not to take away from the frankly alarming things we just learned but–” Sokka handed Aang the poster. “–we also found this when Y/N and I were in town.”

“What is it?” Toph asked. 

“It’s a wanted poster for Y/N,” Aang muttered. 

Katara jumped up to join him in reading it. Y/N didn’t need to see it again. She’d memorized it the first time she laid eyes on it. 

And suddenly, her day was ruined. She couldn’t remember the taste of the peach she had eaten that afternoon or the feeling of the sun on her face. She couldn’t remember what the music sounded like as her and Sokka wandered out of town or what it felt like to spill her life story to someone who wanted to listen. 

“Maybe I should go,” Y/N said numbly. 

“What?” Katara said looking up from the poster. 

“I’m putting you all in danger by being around you. Without me you’d be free to roam without the fear of being caught in the back of your minds all the time. It would be better for all of you like that!” Y/N was starting to get mad. Why couldn’t they see it? Why couldn’t they understand that this is the best option for everyone? That she was trying to save them?

“Why would you say something like that? How is that better?” Toph argued. 

“Because you don’t need me here anyways? How could you want me around after hearing what Aang learned at school. Mind you, up until ten minutes ago, I believed every one of those things to be true!” Y/N stood up and paced around the cave, no longer able to be sitting still. Their campfire threw wild shadows of her form on the walls. 

Y/N was beginning to feel like her outburst was due to more than just learning about Fire Nation propaganda but she couldn’t stop her mouth from moving. She stopped in front of them all for a second. “Tell me exactly what purpose do I serve on this mission?” 

She took their silence for an answer. “Exactly,” Y/N growled. 

Sokka stood up with her. “Not everything needs an exact purpose! You just fit with us!”

“But I don’t!” Y/N shouted. Her eyes and nose were stinging with unshed tears. Y/N rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands to keep the tears at bay for just a second longer. “I need a reason. I need a purpose. I have to have one! I don’t know how to describe this feeling. I’m just... lost. And–and I don’t even know how to explain it to you. How do I try and explain that my life has no meaning when I have no one to serve? I sit here with you guys and I’m wondering how you even wanted me to come when there was no reason for me to be here? I can’t even be your Fire Nation guide because I’ve never even seen most of the cities and apparently, I don’t even know my own history!”

Y/N looked at Katara. She blinked and twin tears traced down her cheeks. “I told you. I’m weak. I care about someone who wants me dead so badly she made me a wanted person. And all I want is to make her better so I can go home and I just can’t get past it all.”

Y/N put her head in her hands and sobbed. She felt two arms wrap around her waist and a head lay on her shoulder. Two more arms wrapped around the both of them. And pretty soon all five of them stood huddled in the cave in a group hug. 

Y/N sniffled. “Why are you all comforting me like you’re my friends?”

“You are our friend,” Katara murmured into Y/N’s shoulder. “Don’t you want to be friends with us?”

Y/N whimpered. “I really do. I guess I just needed to hear you say it.”

“If it makes you feel better. I have no problem bossing you around.” Toph’s voice was muffled from the pile they were in. 

Y/N smiled through her tears. “Thanks, Toph.”

---

A/N: listen, I don’t care if I made you cry, because I cried while writing that scene more than once and that’s all that matters. 

Taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @astroninaaa​ @aangsupremacy​ @beifongsss​ @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx​ @littlefluu​ @lozzybowe​ @thebluelcdy​ @ohjustlookalive @sugarmoongey​ @fanficdepot​ @teenbiology​ @13-09-01​ @riespage​ @davnwillcome​ @naanlianid​ @creation-magician​ @lunariasilver​ @vintagerose1014516 @bcifcng​ @rockinearthbending-marauders​ @francesciak​ @thia-aep​ @aphrcditeee​ @milk-n-cheese​ @solarsuki​ @sendnuwudes @humbleseame​ @my--shitty--art​ @lovingcupcake51002​ @loganrwebb​ @celia-not-cecilia​ @treestarrrrrrrr​ @p--e--a--c--h--e--s​@velveteencurls @izzieserra​ @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak​

[jemmahazelnut]

A roommate obsessed with tidiness

Summary: Laxus is looking for an apartment and finds the ideal place with the ideal roommate (as well as the boyfriend of his dreams). Too bad he's engaged. [Freed/Laxus]

Links: AO3 - Fanfiction

I tried to write something a little longer about these two lovely guys. Hope you like it :) As always, sorry for my English, I try to do my best.

P.S. There are references to sex, but nothing explicit.

A roommate obsessed with tidiness

-1-

It had been Bickslow who had told him that a friend of his was looking for a roommate to cover the bills, and since Laxus really needed an apartment, he had agreed. He had struggled enough to find a place to stay, a little for bad luck and a little for his character. The first time he had fought heavily with his roommates, so after a while he was gone. The second apartment he had been in had turned out to be a disaster: the lift didn’t work, the boiler had continuous problems and the washing machine was broken. It was actually his fault, such a low price should have alerted him.

So, he hoped that at least that third try would go well. From what Bickslow had told him, Freed was a quiet guy, they would get along well and the apartment in the photos didn't look like a mess. Despite this, Laxus was by no means positive, not after his first experiences.

He rang the bell and after a while a short woman with long blond hair came to open the door. If Laxus hadn't known that she was the homeowner, he would have mistaken her for a girl his age, if not younger.

“Hi, you must be Laxus, right?” she asked with a gentle smile. The blond nodded as the woman introduced herself. Her name was Mavis and as she led him into the building, she began chatting quietly asking him what he was doing. Laxus explained that he was a college student, second year of engineering, and was surprised at how easy it was to talk to that woman. She immediately took him to the second floor apartment to show him, and as soon as Laxus entered he was quite relieved. He looked really good, and the fact that he was tidy proved that his roommate had to be a nice guy. Unless he just did it that day.

He entered directly into a small sitting room, with a sofa in the center and a small table in front. On the front wall there was a television and some shelves. The style was modern, simple and clean. Mavis guided him to the various rooms showing him everything there and his bedroom. It was small, but Laxus was just fine. The price seemed adequate and he really liked the apartment. Despite that, he already knew it was all too good to be true, surely something bad was going to happen, and now Laxus really wanted to get to know this roommate and make sure for himself that he wasn't a freak. Although, to tell the truth, he probably would have accepted the same. He didn't really want to look for another apartment.

“The other tenant?” he then asked.

“He should be here in a moment, in the meantime we can discuss the last things” the woman told him. Laxus nodded and followed her into her living room, but just then they heard the house keys turn. “It must be him” Mavis said. In fact, shortly after the door opened and a boy with long green hair entered. Quite a handsome guy, to be honest. Laxus was honest with himself, that, at least physically, would have been his ideal type. He smiled at them and immediately introduced himself.

“Hi Mavis. Hi, I'm Freed” he said, closing the door behind him.

“Laxus” the blond introduced himself immediately. He gave it a quick look. Except for his hair so green it looked straight out of a manga, he looked like a normal guy. He must have just returned from university, because he had a computer on hand and some books in a bag. He set them aside and walked over to them, offering to make coffee for everyone, while Mavis and Laxus sat on the sofa and discussed the latest things. Laxus was more and more convinced that he wanted to accept the position, not that he had much of a choice.

When Freed returned to the living room with three coffee mugs and a small tray of pastries, Laxus almost thought that was too good to be true. He couldn’t believe he had finally found a decent apartment, with practically the boy of his dreams of him sitting on the other side of the sofa. A guy who also seemed kind. There was certainly a deception.

-2-

The deception was obviously there, but it was nothing so serious. After two weeks living under the same roof, Laxus had found out more about his roommate. Meanwhile, that he was engaged, with a bit of disappointment for the blond who, however, immediately pushed the thought out of his mind. Luckily Freed was very discreet, and those few times his boyfriend stopped to sleep didn't make a mess.

Then, he discovered that Freed had a real fixation for cleanliness. Which shouldn't have been a downside, but when he moved Laxus' things the blonde couldn't help but get annoyed. Laxus was not untidy, he just put the keys on the cabinet in the hall, and promptly Freed moved them on the shelf to the left. What difference it made, Laxus didn't know. Or, he couldn't even place a sweatshirt on the sofa for a moment, which Freed took it and hung it on the coat hanger. And he did that for every little thing, and if Laxus hadn't said anything at first, now he was starting to get on his nerves.

Another vice of Freed was that no matter how tidy he was and how much he always cleaned everything, that didn't apply to the moka pot. No, that was always in the sink, and Laxus always had to wash it before using it. Quite annoying, especially in the morning when he was in a hurry. Another thing that bothered him was that every time Freed came out of the bathroom after taking a shower, he felt like entering a sauna. Laxus wasn't kidding at all, he didn't understand what the hell he was doing in the bathroom for so long, it was probably because of his long hair that he took hours.

And that had happened that day too. Freed had just come out of the bathroom, his damp hair pulled back into a high ponytail leaving a cloud of steam inside him. Laxus stared at the completely fogged mirror and then walked out, turning to his roommate.

“What are you doing in there, the sauna?” he asked. Freed turned in surprise to him.

“I like to take a hot shower” he replied with a shrug. Laxus snorted.

“Well, you could at least open the window when you finish” he pointed out. Freed nodded absently and leaned over to the sofa, where Laxus had momentarily placed his sweatshirt. That boy really had a fixation. “Can you leave it there and stop moving my things around?” he blurted out nervously. Freed immediately pulled his arm back and snorted lightly.

“I can't stand the mess” he said frowning. “There’s a coat rack if you hadn't noticed it. It's right there” he added pointing it out.

“Fuck, I just put it down, two minutes and I'll take it” Laxus objected.

“No, you didn't just put it down” Freed retorted. “It's been here since before I went into the bathroom, so it's been here for at least twenty minutes” he pointed out. “And this is not only true for the sweatshirt, but also for the glasses you leave in the sink, what does it cost you to wash them? I always have to do it myself” he asked.

“Nobody tells you to do it, maybe if I leave them there, there is a reason. You know, I get thirsty several times a day, I don't wash a glass every five minutes”.

“Then take it to your room and don't leave it in the kitchen” Freed snapped. Okay, Laxus hadn't expected that from a single comment Freed would start throwing everything at him. Well, sometimes he forgot to put things in the dishwasher, but it's not like he was creating chaos around. It was just a damn glass.

“Well, you always leave the moka pot in the sink” he pointed out, just to have something to throw at him too.

“Because it's morning and I'm tired. And anyway, it's the only thing I mess up. It doesn't seem like a big thing to complain about” the roommate objected. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“You always move everything around and every time you come out of the bathroom it's... like this” he said, pointing to the small room still full of steam. Freed crossed his arms. “And you never open the window” the blond added.

“I just forgot today” Freed defended. It wasn't true, and Laxus was about to tell him, but the green-haired boy preceded him. “And you could still go and open the door when you order food? Every holy night I have to go, because you always have those damn headphones on” he told him. Well, Freed was right about that, Laxus couldn't say anything. And in any case, he didn't want to fight, Freed wasn't really bad as a roommate compared to the people he had found himself with the first time. He took a deep breath.

“Look, I don't want to fight. You're not bad as a roommate, I'll try to put the keys in their place, just… don't move my stuff” he told him trying to be more understanding. The last thing he wanted was to live with tension in that apartment. Freed seemed to calm down at that point.

“Okay” he agreed. “And I'll try to clean the moka pot in the morning” he muttered. Laxus smiled slightly, relieved that they hadn't made things worse.

“And the window in the bathroom” he reminded him as he entered the sauna. Freed rolled his eyes and Laxus heard him mutter something. He didn't answer him and shut himself in, starting to undress to get into the shower. Actually, he didn't think Freed was so bothered by the glasses he left in the sink. Well, even if Laxus thought it was bullshit, he would have forced himself to be more careful. But when he was in the shower and heard the doorbell ring, he remembered ordering the kebab.

“You have already broken the pact!” Freed yelled at him from outside.

Damn, Laxus thought. That timing really sucked.

-3-

The next evening Freed had offered to make him dinner, as he had noticed that the blonde almost always ordered take-out. So Laxus was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for it to be ready. The boy had told him that he would make him an Italian dish, Laxus just hoped he was capable of it, but since Freed spent a lot of time in the kitchen, he assumed he would.

“Where did you learn to cook Italian?” Laxus asked.

“I have relatives who moved there” the boy explained, draining the spaghetti and then throwing them back into the pot with the eggs and bacon and starting to mix. Laxus watched him curiously, until the roommate brought the pasta to the table and put a large portion on his plate.

“So, have you ever eaten carbonara?” Freed asked. Laxus nodded.

“Yes, I think. I don't know if it was like this, since I've never been to Italy” he said as he began to pick up the spaghetti. He had to admit, it was really good. Freed smiled.

“Well, this is the recipe my cousin gave me. When I go there she always makes me taste something new” he revealed.

“You’re lucky” Laxus commented. “Do you often go there?”. Freed began to tell him that he had gone more often when he was younger, usually it was his cousin who came to him. Laxus began to find out more about the boy, and told something about himself as well. They had never talked for so long. Not that they hated each other before, on the contrary, simply everyone had their own commitments and they had never found themselves alone for long. The argument suddenly ended in Bickslow, the friend they had in common.

“By the way, this Saturday we're going bowling. We are three, if you want to join us you’re welcome, so we make two teams” Freed told him. Laxus nodded, he had nothing else to do and maybe it would have been fun. So, he agreed and then started washing the pots and dishes, as Freed had cooked.

“Have you ever watched 'Fiore’s kingdom'?” Freed asked, getting up and starting to dry the pots.

“To tell you the truth no, it's that fantasy series that's going a lot right now, right?” he asked as he passed the sponge over the pot. Freed nodded.

“Yes, they do the first episode tonight. You can see it, if it inspires you” Freed said. Laxus nodded. Why not? Anyway, his alternative was to stay in the room listening to music on headphones until he fell asleep. So, after finishing cleaning, he moved to the living room and the two boys sat next to each other. Laxus put his feet comfortably on the coffee table as Freed fiddled with the remote. They chatted a little longer before the episode began, and then concentrated on TV.

Laxus immediately found himself immersed in the story, and even though Freed had already seen the first season, he didn't seem bothered to have to see it again. Indeed, according to him, he enjoyed watching the episodes several times to capture every detail. Neither of them knew yet, but that would become their routine in the next month.

-4-

Saturday night arrived and Laxus and Freed went to bowling together. When they got there, they already found Bickslow and a girl Laxus had never known. In any case, she didn't seem ready for a bowling night as she wore heeled ankle boots and an overly elegant blouse.

“Finally, guys, we've been waiting for you” Bickslow greeted them. The girl turned to Laxus and introduced herself.

“Evergreen, you’re Laxus, right?” she asked. The blond nodded. “So, what's it like to live with Freed? Is he still stressful and obsessed with tidiness?” she asked as she entered the room. Laxus smiled, then it wasn't just his impression. Freed rolled his eyes and sure he was ready to argue but Laxus anticipated him.

“Actually yes, I can't put anything anywhere even for two seconds that he curses me” he joked.

“I know the situation�� Evergreen chuckled.

“You're just messy and you don't want to admit it, that's all” Freed objected.

“No Freed, if everyone says you're exaggerated, then you are” Evergreen pointed out. The boy didn’t reply because the four went to the counter to request a lane. When they got to theirs, they changed their shoes and looked around, on Saturday night the place was always full. If Bickslow hadn't booked they probably wouldn't have found a place.

“So, how do we split up?” Bickslow asked. Laxus shrugged, it was the same for him.

“It's enough for me not to be with Freed” Evergreen commented.

“Same” said the boy concerned.

“Well, then I'll be with Freed, while Laxus with Ever” Bickslow decided for everyone. So, the boys split up and began to take the balloons. “Oh Laxus, I forgot to tell you, we usually make those who lose the game pay for a drink” he warned him with a grin. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“You could have said that before you teamed me up with her”. He realized too late that it wasn't really something nice to say, and the girl immediately frowned at him.

“What do you have against me?”

“Nothing. Just... you came here in heels” Laxus muttered a little embarrassed, while Freed and Bickslow smiled in amusement.

“Yes, because I always have to be perfect. Don't underestimate me, and mind you, if we lose because of you, I'll make you weigh it” she said.

“Listen to her, she can be really competitive, that's why I hate being with her on the team” Freed told him.

“Why does she fuck you every time you make a pitiful figure?” he couldn't help but ask Laxus with an arrogant smile. Freed gave him a dirty look.

“You're underestimating too many people tonight” he commented. Laxus grinned.

“Okok, I'm not saying anything more” he said as a sign of peace. Anyway, he would find out everything soon.

Laxus had really misjudged Evergreen. Other than competitive, that girl didn’t accept losing and she was good too. Definitely a good bowling partner, they were giving the other two guys a hard time. The first three games had been won by Bickslow and Freed, but those last two were his and Evergreen’s. They were still at a disadvantage, but only by one, and ultimately the evening was fun. At the end of each game, they would order drinks and something to munch on and, Laxus had to admit to himself at least, it wasn't bad at all to see his roommate play. This was thanks to those jeans that wrapped around his backside, on which Laxus was now focusing his eyes on almost every shot of him. At the umpteenth strike Freed turned to him, with an amused and satisfied smile on his face.

“Tsk. I admit, you're not as mediocre as I thought” Laxus then told him, slightly amused. Yeah, because even though he was losing -and he hated losing- he was still in a good mood, maybe it was Freed's view, or maybe the fact that for the first time in a while he was having fun with other guys. He and Evergreen lost the game and went back to the counter to order more beers and two plates of chips.

“So, you were Freed's roommate too?” Laxus asked. The brunette nodded.

“For a while, I honestly don't know how you can handle it. He always took the make-up I left in the bathroom and hid them from me just to annoy me” she told him “He thought that this way I understood that I shouldn't leave them lying around, until I made him understand that he should no longer allow himself to touch my stuff even if we were friends” she explained. Laxus nodded.

“I understand. Well, considering the terrible roommates I've had before, he's not bad” the blond commented. Evergreen smiled.

“I think we all have stories to tell about roommates. Anyway, let's get Freed something heavy” he said, ordering a cocktail for his friend. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” It seemed to him that Freed wanted a beer. Evergreen smiled devilishly.

“Because if he drinks, he'll start to miss shots” she explained. Laxus laughed.

“You play dirty, I like you” he escaped and Evergreen chuckled. Then the two returned with everything they had ordered from the two boys, who were talking to each other.

“Ohhh, here are the losers!” Bickslow exclaimed theatrically.

“Not for long, Bix” Laxus said, handing the cocktail to Freed, who accepted it willingly with an amused smirk on his face. He strangely didn't ask any questions and the boys started the next game. They went on to play for a while, and with each round new glasses arrived. Time passed quickly and Laxus found that Evergreen was right, Freed's shots were getting worse and worse, and Laxus enjoyed seeing him tipsy. Freed was throwing the ball and as always Laxus's eyes were on him, on his arms on which he had rolled up his sleeves and on his backside. Damn, he was handsome. Honestly, if he hadn't been engaged and if he hadn't been his roommate, Laxus would have hit him. Freed completely missed the shot and the ball went out of the lane hitting no pins. The boy snorted and sat down next to the blond, who laughed loudly.

“Nice scene, really. How many pins have you hit? Because I still see them all there” he teased.

“Just because you made me drink” Freed objected. Laxus chuckled.

“You can't handle alcohol much, you only drank a few beers” he continued with a mocking vein.

“Actually, it's the third time Ever has brought me something weird, I don't even know what this stuff is” he said, taking the glass and observing the dark contents. Laxus laughed heartily and Freed turned surprised a little red in the face.

“Did you really go out with a few drinks?” he asked amused.

“Hey, you only had a few beers. Ever gave me this stuff” the boy said offended and Laxus smiled to see him like that.

“Let's say you can't accept defeat”.

“Actually, it turns out to me that we're ahead” Freed said.

“Not anymore” Evergreen trilled indicate the score on the scoreboard. Laxus looked up, actually the girl was right: they were even. He glanced at Freed, but he still seemed to be focusing on the writing. After a few seconds he snorted.

“You play against the rules” he said. Laxus patted him on the shoulder.

“Sure, in the meantime, go get something to drink. Try not to trip over your feet, even if it would be fun to see” he told him. Freed stood up giving him a dirty look, then walked with Bickslow towards the bar. Laxus stretched his legs out in front of him, stretching before hearing the girl laugh. He looked up confused.

“You missed the scene of Freed about to stumble on the steps” he told him. Laxus smiled and turned, but apparently the boy had already recovered, because he was walking towards the bar. He was sorry he missed the scene, but if he stared a little longer then one of the two friends would have suspected something. He had been glancing at him all the time, it was really time to stop it. “I think they're closing” muttered the brunette. Laxus only realized then that in fact they were practically the only ones left there. Shortly thereafter Freed and Bickslow returned empty-handed.

“The bar is closing. Do you want to play one last quick game in order to declare who is the overall winner or shall we get out of here?” Bickslow asked. Evergreen was about to answer, but Freed hit the coffee table and wobbled it with all the glasses on it. “Hey look out” the friend next to him warned him.

“You're really drunk” the brunette chuckled.

“I'm only slightly tipsy, and then it's your fault. How many drinks did you make me drink?” Freed complained running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe I exaggerated” laughed Evergreen, who on the contrary had only taken soft drinks after the first three laps, not wanting to have a hangover the next day.

“Well, I guess we'll have to stop the game here, or it risks rolling with the ball” Laxus said.

“I can go on” Freed replied immediately “And anyway we have to establish a winner, even if, considering that you played dirty, I can already say that we won”.

“Played dirty? We all drank” Evergreen said.

“No, you took fruit juices” Freed objected. Bickslow rolled her eyes and eventually a girl from the club came to warn them that they were closing, so they were forced out of there. They said goodbye and Laxus and Freed made their way to their apartment, which thankfully was not far from there on foot. Laxus threw an amused look at the roommate, who was more likeable when tipsy, since he chatted more than usual and was more relaxed. They arrived at the building and Freed threw himself into the elevator, while Laxus rolled his eyes.

“Are you really that lazy? It's just two flights of stairs” he said as he entered.

“Honestly I'm not sure I can do them without tipping over” he muttered, leaning his head against the wall.

“Yeah, Evergreen told me I missed the scene you tripped over” he chuckled.

“I've never tripped, I just got my foot badly for a moment” Freed immediately retorted.

“You mean you tripped” Laxus insisted.

“No, there's a big difference ... have you ever played 'The Elevator Game'?” he asked changing the subject completely. Laxus turned to him.

“Never heard of it” he replied.

“Of course? It's a fun game, Bickslow and I used to play it when we were kids. It’s more a ritual than a game, it allows you to reach the Otherworld with an elevator, as long as it reaches ten floors or more. Too bad this building is small or we could do it. You basically have to go to the fourth floor first, then the second, and then the seventh. Or maybe it was the sixth. No, maybe you have to start with the sixth and…” he said thoughtfully. Laxus stared at him amused and perplexed. The elevator had arrived.

“Maybe you can explain it to me tomorrow, huh?” he amused himself by stepping out and pushing Freed out with a hand on his shoulder. Freed got carried away with no problem continuing to mumble something about that game, or ritual, or whatever it was.

“Anyway, at a certain point you will meet a woman who will ask you where you are going and eventually you will reach the Otherworld. The point is that once you get there, it's very difficult to get back to reality” Freed finished as Laxus opened the door.

“Did you really do this shit as a kid?” he asked skeptically.

“Sure, I even had a Ouija board” Freed said and Laxus found himself laughing as he pushed Freed into the apartment.

“Seriously? I didn't really expect that from you” he commented as he closed the door behind him. “But now stop talking about these things and go to sleep” he told him. Freed turned to him with a soft smile on his face and placed a hand on his chest. Laxus tensed slightly and stared at him a little surprised, trying to ignore that closeness and the warmth of his hand.

“I like you, you know? You're a good roommate, even though I always complain” he told him. Laxus stared at him again in surprise, and for a moment he thought about how good those words sounded. He smiled trying to ignore that vague feeling of warmth that was starting to build inside him.

“I'll remind you tomorrow” he told him with a half laugh, trying to hide his embarrassment. Freed chuckled.

“No, don't do that” he told him and then took his hand away from his body, much to Laxus' chagrin, and walked away to his bedroom. As soon as he closed in, Laxus sighed and closed his eyes. Whatever he was feeling he had better stop.

-5-

Laxus and Freed had been living together for two months now and it was getting better and better. Freed had learned to open the window after taking a shower, and Laxus was trying not to mess with anything. Furthermore, watching the TV series on the sofa and having dinner together had become a habit. Quite a nice habit, to tell the truth. It was weird but Laxus liked Freed's company, he liked chatting stupid things with him and listening to weird rituals he had done as a child. He liked to discuss books and movies that they both liked. And he also discovered that they had the same tastes in music, they both listened to the same band. Freed would occasionally come up with some weird recipes and they would often hang out with Evergreen and Bickslow, either going bowling or having fun in other ways. It was really good.

Except for one small detail, Laxus didn't like Freed's boyfriend. The reason was actually pretty obvious, he just didn't like the fact that Freed had a boyfriend, even though he didn't come often. Usually, it was Freed who went to his house, and anyway they were always very respectful, besides a few giggles he didn't hear much. They didn't bother him in the least.

Except that evening. That night the two were wreaking havoc, and they were clearly fucking in the next room. Actually, Laxus was quite convinced that Freed didn't know he was there, since the blonde had told him that he would go to see a friend and that he would be back late. In the end, however, Mirajane had stood him up and Laxus had returned earlier than expected, and now that he was lying on the bed, he could hear almost everything. He was pretty sure that if he knocked on the wall the two would calm down, as they weren't usually that loud. But Laxus still hadn't.

Partly because he felt guilty, Freed had had to organize that evening with the boy taking advantage of the fact that he wasn't there and he thought they would finish shortly, partly because... because ok, imagining Freed doing certain things was quite intriguing. Sure, if he had been more honest with himself, he would have admitted that he would have preferred to be in that room, but he tried not to think too much about it. To tell the truth, it was also dangerous to imagine Freed in certain situations.

At that point, however, it was too late to think about it, because the two had finished having fun. Thankfully, so Laxus could stop imagining Freed's face, or his body, or his lips and, okay, Laxus just had to stop thinking about Freed and be done with it. He had a boyfriend, what the fuck.

He closed his eyes trying to think about the least sexy thing in the world when he heard a door slam. He frowned and opened his eyes again.

“Well, then I'm going home to sleep!” he heard screaming.

“Why do you have to do this?” Laxus heard Freed ask aloud.

“Maybe because you're an asshole”.

Okay, the last thing Laxus wanted to do was go about Freed’s business and see a fight. But if he left the room, he would admit he heard everything, and that was equally embarrassing. Fuck, that shouldn't have happened. He should have just been out of the house.

“You're misrepresenting all my words, why can't we have a quiet evening without fighting over some bullshit?” Freed snapped on the other side.

“Bullshit?” he yelled that. Laxus, however, only heard an incomprehensible mutter, because Freed must have lowered his voice. Better this way, he thought. After a while he heard the front door open and close, and then total nothing. Well, that must have been a shit night for Freed. Laxus didn't want to think about it anyway. He turned over in bed, now tired, and closed his eyes, after a while he fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, Laxus found the moka pot on the stove and a note.

“The coffee is ready, you just have to turn it on. I'm sorry I bothered you last night, I didn't think you were home.

P.S. Your keys are hanging in the new wall key holder I bought”.

Laxus was quite surprised. So, Freed knew he was there, he must have noticed when he went into the living room and saw his keys on the usual cabinet where Laxus left them. He put a hand through his hair, understanding why the two boys had lowered their voices at one point. He lit up his coffee and sat down wearily at the table, just hoping that Freed wouldn't come up with the conversation anymore.

-6-

Fortunately, the speech never came out. Laxus hadn't asked for anything and Freed hadn't talked about it, things were exactly the same as before. The only thing that had changed was that Laxus no longer saw Freed's boyfriend around, every now and then he was tempted to ask him if they were still together, but it seemed really bad as a thing to do, so in the end he kept silent and kept his doubts for himself. And things were fine like that. Maybe he would get Bickslow to tell him later. Speaking of Bickslow, he had just written to him.

“Wait, do you play the guitar?” Laxus asked surprised opening the photo that his friend had just sent him. Freed looked up from the book he was reading. He had a puzzled expression and Laxus turned the phone towards him. The photo showed Freed, Bickslow and Evergreen when they were teenagers. Freed had the guitar in his hand, Evergreen the bass and Bickslow was on the drums. The boy's face turned red and Freed covered it with his hand.

“I'll have to kill Bickslow” he moaned. Laxus laughed and looked at the photo again. All three of them were younger. Evergreen had much frizzier hair, Bickslow had a faded blue crest, while Freed had hair down to just below the shoulders. And all three were dressed as if they were part of a punk band. Freed had a red leather jacket and a rock band shirt, Bickslow a studded jacket and Evergreen a bright green miniskirt.

“Were you really serious, did you want to start a punk band?” Laxus asked.

“Please, I don't want to think about that time” Freed mumbled embarrassed as he looked down at the book again. Laxus, however, had no intention of stopping there. He zoomed in on Freed's photo and chuckled.

“You even decorated your guitar” he noted.

“I said I don't want to talk about it” Freed snapped.

“Okay, then I'll ask Bickslow” Laxus said with a smirk. Freed at that sentence jerked his head up.

“No” he said right away. Laxus grinned.

“So can you tell me something about this?” he asked curiously. Freed rolled his eyes.

“Well, we wanted to form a band. We had also decided on the name, but… in the end luckily, we didn't do anything with it. Are you happy now?” he said shortly.

“Hey, I want to know more. Have you played around? Wrote your songs?” Laxus asked.

“Yes, we played around the streets. No, we haven't written any songs. We did covers, or at least… we tried” Freed said. “Now that's enough, I won't say a word more” he decided dryly.

“Come on, I'm curious to hear something. Sure you recorded your covers” Laxus insisted.

“Yes, but I eliminated them all” Freed said dryly. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“So, if I ask Bickslow he doesn't have them...”.

“Why do you care so much about it?” Laxus's phone vibrated and the blonde looked down at the message, as soon as he saw it his smile widened.

“He sent me an audio”.

“Oh God, no” Freed snapped and leaned over to grab his phone, but Laxus moved his arm faster. “Laxus, don't... I swear that if you start that audio, I'll make your life hell here” he threatened him. The blond chuckled.

“Why are you so upset? Relax” he said raising his arm so Freed couldn't get there. The boy was obviously annoyed by this, and Laxus was just happy with it. The phone vibrated again.

“What the hell is that jerk sending you again?” Freed snapped. Laxus looked up at the phone and watched. It was a message: “Bickslow: Freed still has his guitar, if you ask him to play you something I'm sure he will ;)”

“So, do you have a guitar?” Laxus asked.

“I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him in the worst way” he blurted out more and more irritated without answering the question.

“If you don't play me, I'll ask Bickslow to send me all the photos and recordings from that period” Laxus said at that point. Freed's expression became shocked.

“Don't you dare” he said only worried.

“Hell, I'm really tempted now” Laxus laughed. “So, would you rather play me something or put the threat into action?”

“I don't have a guitar here”.

“Too bad” Laxus said, turning his gaze to the phone and starting to write. Freed grabbed his arm and tried in vain to pull him down.

“Okay okay. I'll play something, but please shut the damn phone. Blocks Bickslow directly” Freed told him probably anxiously gripped. Laxus locked the phone and slipped it into his pocket satisfied. He sat on the sofa while Freed went to retrieve the guitar in his room. Laxus looked at her curiously. There was a drawing of a lightning bolt above, and the word 'Thunder'.

“Don't comment, I was 13” Freed ordered badly. Laxus raised his hands in peace. Freed snorted as he began to tune the guitar.

“You still play it, right?” Laxus asked. If Freed kept her in that apartment, there must be a reason. The boy shrugged.

“Sometimes” he admitted sitting on the arm of the sofa. Laxus looked at him curiously. For him who had always been passionate about music, it was nice to be able to hear someone play. He had never had the opportunity to learn how to do it, and he doubted he even had the patience for it. “Well, if you want, I'll play you an old Phantom Lord song” he told him. Laxus nodded, he was fine with anything. Freed began to play a song that the blond recognized immediately. Indeed, the boy had to play often, as his fingers moved safely on the strings.

“Aren't you singing?” Laxus asked him suddenly. Freed stiffened.

“No” he said dryly.

“Who sang among you three?” Laxus asked.

“Ever” dry reply again. “And sometimes I” he admitted after a moment's pause. Laxus chuckled in amusement.

“Are you out of tune or do you not like to sing?”.

“I'm terribly out of tune. This is why we never continued. Bickslow didn't sing too busy playing drums, Evergreen doesn't like to sing and I'm not capable of it. Honestly, I tried. And I suck, I know for myself and before you ask me, I won't sing” he clarified. Laxus smiled.

“Now I'm curious” he retorted. “I think the audio Bickslow sent me is really a cover of yours, who knows, maybe you sang it yourself” he then commented slyly.

“Laxus, no” Freed warned him. “I'm serious, I don't want to hear that stuff, whatever it is”.

“Then sing me a song” Laxus urged him “Come on, don't be a brat”.

“Settle for the guitar, what the fuck. I'm already playing for you”.

“I don't think I've ever heard you swear as much as tonight” Laxus teased, settling himself comfortably on the sofa. Freed gave him a dirty look and then smiled.

“You sing” he told him. Laxus raised an eyebrow in surprise at that request. “After all, you’re always with headphones on, sometimes I hear you sing”. Laxus snorted but nodded. He had no problem singing.

“Okay, but you first. I'm two seconds playing that audio” he reminded him. Freed snorted and blushed slightly as Laxus curiously watched him. After a few seconds he began to sing. Laxus stared at him in surprise. Actually, he wasn't quite as in tune, but not as terrible as he had said. And, Laxus couldn't do anything about it, he felt his stomach flutter. Freed had his eyes on the ropes fortunately, so he couldn’t see the expression Laxus had on his face. Because Laxus was completely fascinated by him, by his voice, by his fingers moving, by his hair set to one side, by his whole being. And damn it, Laxus wanted to kiss him. He wanted to take his face in his hands and join their lips, run his fingers through his hair and hold him close. He wanted to stretch out on that couch with him and spend all night there, no matter what, he just wanted to be with Freed. His throat went dry, and when Freed finished singing, he tried to make himself feel good.

“Your turn” Freed said, looking up at him. Laxus found himself blushing for no reason, just from catching his gaze.

“Uh... sure” he grunted awkwardly, just hoping that his friend thought he was in those states for the fact that he was forced to sing, and for nothing else. Freed looked at him in surprise.

“Strange that you haven't made any comment on my intonation” he said then amused.

“You... you're not bad” Laxus muttered. He felt more heat radiate on his face and just hoped it wasn't too visible. The expression on Freed's face changed softening and for a few seconds he remained silent looking at him. The desire to kiss him grew more and more. Laxus didn't even realize it but he was pushing towards Freed, closing the distance and only when he was close enough to smell his shampoo clearly, he realized how far he had moved. Too close. Too much, he could feel his friend's breath on his face. But then Freed jumped off the couch.

“I… sorry… I forgot about an appointment” Freed said agitatedly. Laxus sat stiffly on the sofa.

“Yes sure”.

“Sorry, Rufus... he's waiting for me” Freed stammered gesturing like crazy. At that name Laxus stiffened. Fuck. Freed had a boyfriend. How the hell had he forgotten it? “Ye… see you, huh” Freed said. A moment later he took his jacket and left the house. Laxus stood there, feeling like an idiot.

-7-

Laxus and Freed hadn't talked about it. In reality they pretended that nothing had happened, unfortunately they were forced to see each other at home but the conversations had become much shorter. They no longer dined together, and Laxus had started ordering food again and their TV series had been abandoned. Or at least, Laxus had abandoned it, he didn't want to look it without Freed. It seemed silly to be honest, but he'd tried it once and it just wasn't the same. Not without his friend's comments. Not without the popcorn they enjoyed making together. So Laxus was concentrating on his study, still trying to have as normal conversations as possible, even though he clearly felt a certain nervousness and tension when they were together in the same room. And the worst part was that Laxus had no idea what to do to improve it. He hadn't wanted them to get to that point, why the fuck had he had to come forward that night? It would have been better to be silent and still as usual, instead he had had to push himself towards him like an idiot.

Even the outings with Evergreen and Bickslow had dwindled, and usually, if he went, Freed wasn't there, and if Freed did, Laxus avoided showing up. If the two friends had noticed anything they hadn't said anything.

Annoyed he opened the book to study, until he noticed that his phone had been vibrating for too long now. He took it and saw it was Bickslow.

“Hey” he greeted him.

“Hey, hi Laxus. Listen, is Freed alive?” the friend asked. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“Yes” he replied dryly. He had seen him that morning before he left the house.

“So, can you pass him to me? He hasn't answered me for days!” he exclaimed. Laxus made a face, the last thing he wanted was to talk to his roommate.

“He's studying” he said lowering his voice, hoping Freed wouldn't hear. After all, if Freed didn't want to talk to Bickslow, he wouldn't have to. He heard his friend snort loudly on the other side of the phone.

“I hate him when he does that” the boy muttered.

“As well as?” Laxus asked.

“He broke up with Rufus, and now he's closing in on his silence and refusing to talk to anyone about it” Bickslow explained. Laxus was silent. He didn’t know what to think of what his friend had just told him. Had they broken up because of him? No, it was all too presumptuous to think about it and after all nothing had ever happened between them. Moreover, from what little he knew about them, the two had already been arguing for a while.

“Are you alive?” Bickslow asked.

“I… yes, look, I have to study. I'll tell Freed to call you back” he told him. He greeted his friend and closed the call. Maybe he would have preferred not to know, because now he was doing too many mental journeys and it wasn't his business. He closed the book knowing that he wouldn't be able to think of anything and put his fingers to his temples. As much as one part of him was happy that those two had broken up -one part rather bitchy, he considered- the other was thinking about what Freed was going through. It was never easy to deal with a breakup, right?

He snorted and got up from his chair entering the living room and hearing that Freed was fumbling in the kitchen. Laxus was already about to order something to eat but finally decided to talk to the roommate first. So, he walked over to the kitchen door and leaned his shoulder against the door jamb.

“Hey, Bickslow called and asked for you” he told him. Freed glanced at him, then turned back to the pan on the stove.

“He just doesn't mind his own business” muttered the roommate with some irritation in his voice. Laxus stared at him in silence for a few minutes.

“He's worried” he said after a while.

“Well, you can tell him I'm alive” Freed said dryly.

“I think you should tell him” Laxus objected. “Look… I'm sorry for you and your boyfriend. If you want to talk about it, well…” he said vaguely, not quite knowing how to continue the sentence. Freed whirled towards him, as if he had said something he shouldn't have. He glared at him, then turned back to the pan.

“Of course he told you” he growled in a low voice. “Well, I'm not sick anyway. As you can see I’m alive, I eat and I continue to do the things I’ve always done. I'm not a teenager with the first crush” he then added aloud. Laxus stared at him puzzled.

“You know there’s nothing wrong with admitting...”.

“Do you need anything else?” Freed snapped interrupting him. Laxus fell silent.

“No” he just said, then left the kitchen and went to order himself something to take away.

-8-

Laxus had just taken an exam, it also went well for him so he was very satisfied. Although the situation with Freed had not improved, in fact, since he had told him about the boyfriend, it had even gotten worse. Despite this Laxus continued to move on with his life. A little more boring and a little sadder, but he couldn't do anything about it. Freed had become a wall.

Laxus walked into the house and as soon as he stepped inside, he saw that something was wrong. Freed's shoes were in the middle of the hall, and there was an empty plate on the coffee table in the living room. Freed never left anything messed up, so that was kind of weird. Laxus put the keys down partly closing the door behind him and took two steps into the living room, noticing only at that moment that Freed was lying on the sofa and sleeping. Laxus frowned as he approached him, looking at him a little surprised. Since they had lived together, he had never caught him even taking a little nap.

He glanced over his figure, he was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and his hair was loose and untidy, Laxus smiled slightly at the sight, at least until he saw a thermometer beside his arm. At that point he bent down and placed a hand on his forehead, only to feel it was actually hot. Surely he had a fever, and this explains the mess. At that point Laxus went to get a blanket from his room and covered it, then took the plate and went to the kitchen to clean it. Once finished and back in the living room he noticed that Freed had woken up, and he was yawning sitting on the couch.

“Alright?” Laxus asked him. Freed turned confused to him and ran a hand through his hair.

“I haven't had a fever for years, thanks for the blanket” he muttered hoarsely. Laxus smiled slightly.

“I asked you if you’re okay” he pointed out, as the roommate had avoided his question.

“Yes, just a little headache and cold” he replied, hugging the blanket. “For once you’re the one to put in order what I leave around” he commented.

“Yep, you're really messy. Shoes in the middle of the hall and flat on the coffee table” Laxus teased. Freed snorted.

“I know without even turning around that you didn't hang the keys in their place” he retorted. Laxus laughed slightly.

“Indeed” he admitted.

“Put them in place, it bothers me”.

“You don't even see them, it can't bother you” Laxus retorted. Freed yawned again. “Do you need something? Tachipirina, moment ...?”.

“No, I don't like taking medicine. I just need to sleep” Freed mumbled standing up with the blanket on, but immediately sat back on the sofa and hid his face in his hands. Laxus approached a little worried.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked him.

“Yes, just a dizziness. Come on now, I just need to sleep. Fuck, I never get a fever and I’ve an exam in two days” he snapped. “I guess I'll really have to fill myself with medicine” he said with a grimace.

“Eh, this is bad luck” Laxus commented “Come on, I'll make you something hot.”

“Why? Can you cook?” Freed teased him.

“You're sick but you're still whiny” Laxus commented with a smile. As much as he wasn't happy that the roommate was sick, he was happy to be able to talk to each other normally again. “And anyway, yes, I can cook. I just don't like it. Stay on the sofa, I'll be right back” he said and went back into the kitchen. When he returned with a plate of hot rice and vegetables, Freed made a smirk.

“You should have made a broth” he told him. Laxus rolled his eyes as he sat down beside him.

“You don't feel so bad if you keep complaining” he noted, observing his friend's pale face as he began to nibble without appetite.

“Admit you don't know how to cook broth”.

“Hey, stop complaining, or I'll mess up the whole apartment” he told him. Freed smiled faintly, continuing to nibble on small bites. Laxus finished ahead of him and set the plate down on the coffee table. After a few minutes Freed put the plate down with some more food on it, simply because he had no appetite, although he joked that if Laxus cooked better he would finish it. Then he took the thermometer again and measured his fever, which seemed to have subsided. At that point the boy got up, he was obviously tired and just wanted to sleep, even though he had already done so in the afternoon. Laxus took the dishes to wash them, relieved that they had talked a little about the last few days. He turned to go to the kitchen but Freed called him.

“Look” Laxus looked back at Freed. “I'm sorry about how I've treated you these days. I just don't like talking about my stuff, and I tend to close in on myself when something is wrong, I don't like people minding my business” he told him. Laxus noticed how stiff he was, a sign that it wasn't easy for him to talk about those things.

“Ok, you know I didn't want to mind your business, right? Just… well, if you needed a shoulder” he told him then.

“I know. I know, I just… I don't like talking about it anyway” Freed repeated. Laxus nodded slowly, scrutinizing his friend, who was evidently not well, and not just because of the fever.

“Sometimes it's good to let off steam, you know?”.

“I guess so” Freed whispered. “Just… saying things out loud makes me feel like an idiot. I mean, I'm not a teenager at the first crush and anyway it wasn't good between us, but still, it's not nice” he threw out.

“I'm sorry” he said not knowing what else to say. Freed shrugged.

“We haven't even been together for so long, just... it doesn't matter, anyway, I guess it just takes some time” he added with a small hint of a smile. “And you’ve some dishes to wash” he added then. Laxus smiled.

“Yes, as soon as you recover, know that I'll give all the work to you” he said with a hint of amusement.

“Sure” Freed said walking towards his room with the blanket still wrapped around him, and the blond chuckled at the view. The friend turned to him, frowning. “What do you have now?”.

“Oh, nothing, you know you're walking around with a blanket, right?” he teased him.

“Yes, and know that I won't give it back to you until I'm healed, it's hot and I'm not going to get out of here” Freed declared seriously, stealing another laugh from Laxus. Freed smiled faintly. “Thanks for everything, goodnight” he told him and then shut himself in his room.

“Night” Laxus whispered and returned to the kitchen with a smile. That had definitely been a good day.

-9-

“You mean you've never done an Escape Room?” Freed asked surprised. Laxus rolled his eyes.

“Never. I'm not crazy about that bullshit with demons and zombies and weird rituals, or whatever is in there” he said.

“Is that another way of saying you're afraid?” his friend teased him and Laxus rolled his eyes and gave him a grim look.

“I'm not afraid, it's just not things that amuse me” he objected. Freed, however, had a smirk on his face and didn’t seem to want to give up.

“Well, if you're afraid there are rooms with other themes, mostly they are logic games, they don't have to be horror themed. However, you shouldn't worry anyway, you know, zombies are fake”.

“I never would have imagined it” Laxus said ironically. Freed grinned as he pulled on his jacket.

“Come on let's go, Bickslow and Evergreen are waiting for us”. Laxus shook his head in amusement and put on his coat, then left the house and followed Freed, who was already walking down the stairs. He began to tease him that he shouldn't be scared, even though ghosts could appear from time to time because they were attracted to the horror-themed rooms. Laxus found himself listening to the boy with a smile on his face. That game didn't inspire him much, but the idea of spending an entire afternoon with Freed wasn't bad at all.

In the end it was more fun than expected. Mainly for the company, Freed was definitely the most into those things, while Bickslow had more fun fooling around with all the items he found around the room. Evergreen was equally into that game, perhaps she even reached Freed’s enthusiasm. Laxus smiled slightly as he saw the roommate struggling with a code to decode, while the girl looked for an image of a sun somewhere.

“How are you with that code?” Laxus asked him.

“Ah, I think I understand how to decode it, I just need a pen and paper”. Laxus handed him a sheet. “Your usefulness in this game is great” Freed said ironically taking it and the blond chuckled.

“You were the one who dragged me here” he pointed out. Freed looked up at him and Laxus saw a glint of concern in his eyes. “Come on, tell me how you're decoding this stuff” he said before he cared if he was having a good time. Freed for a moment showed some uncertainty, but then he began to explain to him and Laxus found himself being dragged by his friend into the game. Eventually they came out early to the great satisfaction of Freed and Evergreen.

“We’re too smart” commented the girl “Not many manage to get out within the allotted time, you know?” she asked Laxus, who glanced at Freed.

“Well, I guess we couldn't expect anything else with a nerd” The boy concerned gave an amused smile.

“I'll take that as a compliment” he decided. Laxus giggled and then they said goodbye to Bickslow and Evergreen to go back to the apartment. They got into Freed's car, which he started and began to calmly walk through the streets. He turned on the radio at a low volume, leaving the music that was passing by.

“Did you have fun? I don't get offended if you say no, you know” Freed said after a while. Laxus turned towards him in surprise and noticed that the boy had stiffened a bit. He was almost imperceptible, but the blond now knew enough to understand him.

“Sure” he replied truthfully “I mean, I’d never go alone, but if you're with the right group of people you have fun everywhere, right?” he added. Freed nodded slowly and Laxus noticed that he was nervously nibbling his lip. “What's up?” she asked him. Freed gave him a surprised look without saying anything. “Come on, there's something you're worried about” Laxus said.

“Well… it's nothing, I just didn't want to have dragged you on a boring afternoon” he admitted. Laxus smiled faintly at his concern.

“Well, it's a little hard to get bored when you have a brat next to you who shoots bullshit one after another” he retorted. Freed frowned.

“The brat would be Bickslow, right?”

“No, that would be you” Laxus laughed.

-10-

Laxus cursed as he heard the doorbell ring. Who the fuck rang the doorbell at three in the morning? Extremely irritated he got out of bed, whoever the asshole was he would have yelled at him about everything. Annoyed, he went to the intercom.

“Who the fuck are you?” he growled without any moderation. Not that he wasn't justified, he was sleeping so well before that guy woke him up.

“It's me” he heard him mutter from the other side and Laxus widened his eyes: that was Freed's voice. “I forgot the keys” he added with a sneer. “I'm so sorry” he added. Laxus took a deep breath.

“You're drunk?” he asked him.

“No... just a little tipsy”. Only from the tone of his voice did Laxus realize that he was more than just tipsy. Annoyed, he opened the gate for him.

“Wait for me there. The elevator is broken and I'm sure you’d overturn from the stairs, even if you deserve it” he grunted. He put on his shoes and left the apartment, going down the stairs cursing over and over again, until he got to the ground floor. Freed was standing with his back against the wall, his eyes closed and his head dangling from side to side.

“How the fuck did you drink?” Laxus snapped as he approached. The roommate opened his eyes.

“I don’t know. Bickslow kept ordering stuff” he mumbled. Laxus rolled his eyes and grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him towards the stairs.

“You owe me a favor, and expect revenge. You fucking woke me up” he blurted out as he climbed the stairs with his friend staggering in front of him. “My goodness, I've never seen you so drunk. You weren't like that in bowling either” he commented.

“It's Bickslow's fault, he wanted to make a challenge. But I won” he added with a smirk.

“I doubt you won, Bickslow has more resistance than you” Laxus retorted annoyed.

“No, that wasn't the challenge” Freed chuckled. “He said I'd be a stupid drunk. Obviously, he was wrong, I recited the time table of seven and I solved a physics problem perfectly” he declared with great satisfaction. Laxus shook his head in resignation as he held him straight so he didn't squash his face to the ground.

“Too bad you can't walk straight” he grunted he still irritated by what he had to do at that time. Freed laughed and Laxus just hoped no one would come out complaining.

“I can recite you the whole monologue from the Lord of the Rings opening” Freed said.

“Please, no” Laxus begged, but Freed didn't listen to him and began to mumble.

“It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Seven to the Dwarf-Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine, nine rings…” Laxus nevertheless found himself smiling amused. Freed didn't walk straight, but he really had memorized that monologue. When they arrived at the door, the friend was still talking, and the blonde let him do it wondering if he was going to play the whole movie for him too. He pushed his friend into the apartment and after a couple of seconds the boy fell silent.

“See, I've said it all. Without slackening or missing a single word” he declared with great satisfaction. Laxus ran a hand wearily over his face.

“You're weird” he mumbled and Freed chuckled again. He had to admit it though, seeing him like this was fun. Finally, he had broken down all the walls, his usual composed and mostly impassive expression was gone.

“I'm hungry, do you want some popcorn? I make them for both of us” Freed said.

“It's three in the morning, I'm not hungry. Go to sleep” Laxus told him. But Freed ignored him and headed for the kitchen.

“So, I know you eat them later!” he exclaimed.

“Don't fucking scream, people are sleeping” Laxus warned, following him into the kitchen. He would have gladly gone to sleep, but Freed had tipped some popcorn out of the pan and forgot to take the lid off. “So, they'll blow up all over the kitchen, and tomorrow you'll complain about how dirty you've got it all” he pointed out.

“I'll clean it all up” Freed retorted, lighting the gas. Laxus finally agreed that it was best to stay there and make sure he wasn't in trouble. He put a lid on the pan and forced him to sit down. Luckily Freed didn't reply and sat down at the table, resting his head on his hands.

“I thought you were more responsible, you know?” said the blond. Freed looked up at him.

“I'm responsible” he said immediately. “It was just a fun night, you could have come too, it would have been more fun” he added. Laxus found himself surprised to hear those words.

“It was a guy's birthday party I've never seen before” he reminded him. Freed shrugged.

“It would have been more fun anyway. You missed Bickslow doing karaoke, a rather pitiful scene” he said in amusement.

“Didn't you do it? That would have been fun” Laxus commented.

“No, as I said I’m responsible. I knew I was going to make a fool of myself, and I pretended to go to the bathroom when Bickslow wanted to drag me onto the stage” he said. Laxus smiled as he imagined the scene, then fell silent in the kitchen. The popcorn began to pop and when they were ready the blond transferred it to a bowl, mixed it with the salt and then put it on the table. Satisfied Freed began to eat while he told him what else Bickslow had done. Laxus listened amused. A little bit he regretted not going, it would have been really fun to see Freed playing darts when his coordination was pitiful with alcohol in his body. But it was just as nice to see him like that.

When the popcorn was finished Laxus was no longer tired, by dint of talking and listening to his friend he had woken up, so he cleaned the bowl and the pan while Freed talked to him about the game of billiards and how they had all lost to Evergreen. Once he finished cleaning the kitchen, he heard his friend yawn.

“You're finally tired, huh?” he commented turning to Freed, who had risen from his chair and was closer than he expected. The friend smiled and placed a hand on his chest.

“Thank you very much. And I'm sorry for waking you up and keeping you awake, you didn't have to” he said sincerely grateful. Laxus softened his gaze trying not to focus on how far their bodies were now inches apart.

“I know. But I'm not an asshole like you, who surely would have left me out of the building” he said and Freed chuckled.

“I wouldn't have done that, I’d have helped you. I probably would have been less willing to make popcorn and would have insulted you a lot more than you did me, but I'm not bad enough to leave you in the cold”.

“Yeah, you probably would have told me to exhaustion how irresponsible I am.”

“That I definitely would have done” Freed agreed and then smiled warmly at him. Laxus felt slightly agitated under the intense gaze of his friend, who suddenly fell silent and just looked at him. Then Freed grabbed him by the collar and pushed him towards him, bringing their lips together.

Laxus didn't take long to respond to the kiss, although he hadn't expected it. Although he felt it was wrong, because Freed was drunk. And he knew it, he should have stopped it before it got too much. But it was already too much and the feeling of Freed's lips on his thrilled him enormously. Freed put a hand through his hair, while Laxus wrapped his arms around his back. The kiss became more intense, deeper and both pushed against each other. Now Laxus could feel Freed's hand descend along the undershirt and rise under him, touching his bare skin. Too much. It was definitely too much.

Before they pushed past Laxus broke away, slightly panting and staring in surprise as Freed kept running his hand up his abs. Something that Laxus wouldn't have wanted to stop, because the feel of their bodies so close sent flashes of excitement down his body. But he had to stop it. He took his wrist and took his hand away. Freed looked up at him surprised and disappointed.

“Don't...” Laxus's voice came out hoarse. “You're drunk” he said.

“Yes, but it's something I've wanted for a while. Since you almost kissed me two months ago” Freed replied. Laxus opened his eyes slightly, while a feeling similar to euphoria filled him. “I wanted to reciprocate, but… it felt wrong” he said. Laxus swallowed hard, for now his self-control was wavering. He wanted to take his face in his hands and kiss him, because that was a statement, but Freed was still drunk anyway.

“And it was, because you had a boyfriend” he decided to say after a few seconds. Freed looked up at him. “Freed, I like you, seriously, but you're drunk, I don't want that to happen now. We can talk about it in the morning” he revealed with a hint of courage. He saw a smile open on the boy's face.

“Ok” he whispered. Laxus smiled in turn.

“Ok” he repeated. They looked at each other for a few seconds in silence, both red-faced and smiling. “Let's go to sleep” Laxus said after a while, because he was sure, if he had stayed there, he would have risked kissing him again and never stop. And he didn't want it. Not like that. Freed nodded and pulled away from him. Then they both went back to their rooms, and Laxus fell asleep with a smile.

-11-

When he woke up the next day it took him a few seconds to remember what had happened and he felt anxiety fill his chest. He was obviously happy, but now doubts assailed him. Freed had been drunk the night before, maybe he didn't really mean what he said. Obviously, he was stupid to think so, it's not that he was completely out of his mind and damn, Freed had recited the entire monologue of ‘The lord of the rings’. He obviously thought about what he said. But that didn't help him calm down. Laxus put his hands to his face and forced himself to get out of bed, when he came out of the room he smelled an inviting smell, but he forced himself to go to the bathroom and wash himself before entering the kitchen. Freed was cooking pancakes. He turned to him with his lips folded in a slight smile.

“I made you coffee” he told him, pointing to the moka pot. Laxus came over, muttering a thank you and pouring it into his cup, trying not to look too much at his friend. He definitely didn't know what to say and almost hoped he was the one doing it. He took a sip and leaned his back to the fridge, barely glancing at Freed who was placing pancakes on a plate. When he finished he turned to him and spoke.

“I'm sorry about last night” he said. Laxus just nodded and Freed went on “I haven't drunk that much in a long time, I didn't really want to wake you up, and you were kind nonetheless”.

“You've been forgiven” Laxus said, pointing to the pancakes and coffee, which he threw down in another gulp and then set the cup on the counter. Freed nodded.

“Yeah, well, I hope so” he added. The silence fell again and Laxus met his eyes for a moment, Freed was thoughtful, as if he were considering something. “About what happened next ... I didn't lie, I've wanted to do it for quite a while. Doing it drunk was stupid but… I didn't regret it. I like you Laxus, and I'd really like to try dating you” he said. A slight blush colored his cheeks, and it was evident that he was a little insecure, even if he didn’t show it openly. Laxus felt a sensation of relief and adrenaline filling his stomach. Knowing that Freed reciprocated was all too exciting. A smile broke on his face without Laxus being able to hold it back.

“Well... yes. I mean, I want to go out with you too” he said. Freed's face relaxed and a tiny smile appeared. After that Laxus put an arm around his waist and pushed him towards him kissing him. And that was even better than their first kiss. Because now there was no doubt about what they both wanted. And that sweet coffee-flavored kiss proved it.

[imposterellie]

Impaling - Day 4

Peter Parker wakes up with a horrid headache. On a normal day, he'd go to sleep for a long time in a very dark room. Parker luck dictates this absolutely will not happen.

Alternatively: what happens when you swing through the streets with an aura migraine

*TW: swearing, major injury, impaling, talk of blood, passing out, pain, panic*

@febuwhump

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Peter had woken with a terrible headache that morning. Since the bite, he didn’t often get headaches anymore, but when he did they turned into full blown killer migraines. He’d been to school with them before though, and he knew he’d be able to carry on as normal, just in a bit of discomfort all day. He thanked his lucky stars that May was out working an early shift when he left the house which meant he could grab some water and a few of his enhanced painkillers before dashing out the door to school.

The day dragged by. He spent many of his classes nursing his head, completely ignoring the teachers and trying his best to take part in conversation with MJ and Ned. It was clear they knew something was up. They kept shooting him worried glances when he zoned out mid conversation or winced when someone shouted. They finally said something when he stopped in the corridor on route to math class and leant against the lockers, his face pale. He was breathing heavily with his eyes screwed tightly shut.

“Peter. Man, you look awful,” Ned commented, awkwardly patting his friend’s shoulder. “Maybe you should go home. I’ll get notes for you.”

“It’s fine Ned, honestly, just a headache.” Peter said, trying his best to stand up straight and look as normal as possible. He still looked like death warmed up despite his best efforts.

“Dude. Go home, you’re not doing anyone any favours being in this state.” MJ reiterated, genuine concern for him on her face. “And you’ll ruin the team’s reputation if you sit in for practice today.” She grinned at him, “we don’t have slackers on our team.”

Peter smiled at her, immensely grateful for his friends.

“I love you guys, so much.” He adjusted his bag on his shoulders and turned towards the exit. “I owe you one for this.”

As Peter began the journey home, he contemplated calling Happy for a lift but he couldn’t face talking to the guy and having to endure all the noise of the car. So he walked. All the way home.

It took him far longer than usual to walk the few blocks to his apartment, probably due to his eyes being so sensitive to the light, he had to stop every few blocks just to squeeze his eyes shut and prevent his headache causing some serious vertigo.

Once he arrived back at the apartment, after fumbling with his keys for a few minutes, he went straight to his room and flopped facedown onto his bed, backpack still on. Peter laid like that for what felt like hours until he finally started to drift off to sleep.

Then his phone beeped. Then it beeped again. And again. And again.

Peter groaned and fumbled in his pocket, squinting at the bright screen, his head throbbing even more. He sighed softly when he realised it was notifications from KAREN telling him about incidents downtown that needed assistance. A huge part of him begged himself not to respond to the notifications but that niggling little voice in his brain knew just how guilty he’d feel if anything happened to anyone. So that settled it. He’d be attending that call.

Peter dragged himself off the bed, chucking his backpack onto the floor and starting to strip his clothes off. He quickly shoved his spiderman suit on, took a deep breath, and climbed out his bedroom window. His vision swam as he swung through the city but he was determined to get to the incident. He arrived in the nick of time. A car pileup on the main road was the issue, smoke everywhere and the cars minutes from going up in flames. He put all thoughts of the headache aside and leapt into action, yanking car doors off their hinges and pulling men, women and children out of the cars. He was pulling the last woman out of a car, her head steadily bleeding, when it caught on fire. If he’d been any later she would have been trapped in there.

Peter left the woman safely in the hands of the firefighters and waved at the growing crowd before swinging off into the city. The smoke and movement caused vertigo to slam into him out of nowhere and he shut his eyes for just a moment to try and stop the wave of pain and dizziness.

“Shit!” Peter exclaimed as the web he’d forgotten he was shooting missed the building he’d forgotten he was aiming for and he careened towards the ground. He had no time to do anything but brace himself for impact as he crashed through the front window of a museum, crushing a suit of armour that was probably worth more than his whole apartment building in the process.

He laid there for a second, dazed, surrounded by broken glass and the sound of an obnoxiously loud alarm blaring through the building he’d just accidentally broken into. The wave of nausea that suddenly hit him made him want to curl into a ball and cradle his head. The impact must have caused a mild concussion on top of the glaring headache he’d been nursing all day. And yet, he found that he couldn’t move, no matter how much he wanted to. He tried to haul himself up but yelped when a sudden pain shot through his stomach.

Peter gingerly ripped his mask up over his mouth as he started to hyperventilate, trying to control the pain. His ears were ringing but his hearing slowly started to come back and he could hear the distorted voice of his AI saying his name.

“Peter? Peter! It appears you have taken extensive damage to your head, ribs and abdomen. My recommendation is to ring Mr Stark. Would you like me to do that for you?”

“No- no.” Peter gasped out “No St-rk. ‘m fine.”

“I’m afraid the baby monitor protocol insists that I ring him in a grave emergency, and my scanners show that this is the case. I’m sorry Peter.”

Peter groaned as the AI ceased talking and a phone line opened, ringing in his ear.

“Traitor.” He whispered as the line clicked.

“Peter? What’s going on kid?” Tony’s worried voice echoed into the suit. “Who’s a traitor?”

“Hi Mis-r Stark.” Peter slurred, gasping between sentences. “I din rob a m-seum, ‘romise.”

“I’m on route kid, hang in there okay?” Peter could faintly hear the sound of the suit clicking into place and the thrusters starting up. Tony sounded panicked; Peter couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it had something to do with the throbbing pain in his head. Peter closed his eyes for a second, trying to numb the pain a little, when the sound of the suit landing beside him woke him from his dazed state. Tony’s face filled his field of vision and peter looked up at him as Tony’s face drained of all colour. Tony spoke softly into the suit but Peter didn’t catch much of it; he just caught something about a spear? Which made absolutely no sense.

“Underoos…?” Tony said slowly, “what the hell happened?”

“Fell. ‘eadache an’ I missed building.” Peter grinned a little at the memory, the pain was sending him a bit loopy.

Tony looked grief stricken. “You gotta promise me you’re not gonna move.” He took a deep breath, “I’m trying to get some painkillers, the Quinjet isn’t far off.”

Tony surveyed the scene. An ancient medieval spear from the suit of armour that Peter had crushed was sticking out from Peter’s midsection. He’d been completely impaled on a stupid knight’s weapon. It was just Parker luck that he’d manage to damage the suit enough in the car wrecks that the spear had hit a weakness and was currently turning the kid into a human kebab.

“It doesn’ even ‘urt that bad, ‘onest.” Peter said, the expression on his face betraying that complete lie.

“Just- just don’t move kid. I’m gonna get you out of this.” Tony ran his hands through his hair, his nerves running haywire. Peter wasn’t losing any blood as the spear was blocking up the wound but tony knew that the second anyone pulled the kid off that spear, he’d start to bleed to death almost immediately.

Peter nodded, losing his ability to form words. Tony’s face was blurring out in front of him, dizziness and vertigo suddenly taking over. Tony noticed the glazed look that Peter was giving him and panicked further.

“Kid, you’ve got to stay awake. Keep those eyes open for me,” Peter obeyed, looking confused but a little more aware than he was a moment ago. “Just keep listening to me okay Underoos? I’m gonna get you out of here alive if it’s the last thing I do.”

Peter smiled softly at Tony, he wasn’t fully aware but knew that the voice that was talking belonged to someone who loved him, and would always take care of him. That thought, instead of keeping him awake and aware, sent him into the darkness. He felt safe. And that was all that mattered.

“Shit,” Tony said, his panic being sent into overdrive when Peter stopped responding. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and Tony caught Peter’s head in his hands before he fell completely to the floor.

An age seemed to pass of Tony barely holding himself together, holding the dying kid in his arms, when the quinjet landed in the wide street in front of him. The wheels had barely hit the ground when the door was opening and Bruce Banner launched himself out of the aircraft, followed quickly by Dr Cho and a team of medics holding a huge array of medical equipment.

Tony’s hands had gone numb. He barely registered Bruce gently pulling him away from Peter’s limp body. All he could feel was slick blood drying on his hands. There were people all over his kid, touching him, hurting him. He fought Bruce without even realising he was doing it.

“Tony! Tony stop, we’re helping him, we need space.” Bruce forced tony to look at him. “Go sit on the ship, get some water. Just calm down, we’ll be there soon.”

Tony nodded slowly, resigning to the man’s words.

“I promise we will take care of him.” That sentence did it for Tony and he got up, staggering towards the Quinjet before sliding down onto a chair in the main body of the aircraft, his whole being numb. This situation felt familiar. He’d done this many a time with his kid, always when Tony could have fixed it, could have prevented it. But he didn’t. And Peter got hurt every time. Tony put his head in his hands and began to sob.

The medical team worked on Peter for several long minutes out in the street before deeming him stable enough to be transferred to the aircraft. Once on board, they kicked into flight immediately and headed straight for the compound, never straying from Peter’s side. Monitors beeped and flashed, wires everywhere, pumping drugs into Peter.

There were several points on the journey that one of the monitors flatlined.

They got him back each time, but they were very quickly losing Peter and Tony had never felt anything like the guilt and loss he was feeling in that moment. None of the team dared breathe a sigh of relief when they reached the compound. Although the most difficult part was over, they could not guarantee that Peter would survive the surgery to remove the spear. He had hit a vital organ and his internal bleeding was practically fatal. It was due to Peter’s incredible healing ability that he was even alive at all.

Tony ran by the side of the gurney all the way into the building before he was forced into a seat in the private waiting room by a harried Dr Banner, who then disappeared into the operating room without a backward glance.

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Pepper came dashing into the room after the first hour of Peter being in surgery, clutching her phone, and ran straight to Tony, hugging him as tightly as she could. He barely felt it. Barely noticed the time passing at a snail’s pace as he waited for those damn doors to open.

He didn’t know when he had nodded off but when he woke, he was laid on Pepper’s lap, her hand stroking his hair. She was talking quietly and tony glanced across the room to see who had joined them. Sat in the chairs opposite them was Happy, clutching the hand of a quietly crying May.

Tony didn’t speak, he had no idea what he could possibly say to make the situation better, so he opted to say nothing at all. He was working up the courage to stop pretending to be asleep when the doors to the OR eased open.

“Tony.” Bruce said quietly.

He was up like a shot, holding his breath in case the news was bad.

“The surgery went well. We lost him a couple of times on the table but he’s a strong kid. He’s gonna be okay.” Tony felt relief like he had never experienced before flood through him and he lost control of his legs, dropping to his knees in the middle of the floor. He heard May burst into fresh, happy tears, and Pepper sounded as though she was thanking something for answering her prayers.

“It’s going to be a very long road to recovery, but he will be okay.” Bruce smiled at the scene, feeling complete exhaustion take over him, but pleased he could save the kid that meant so much to the people in front of him. He’d never known Tony as he had been since Peter appeared in their lives, and he’ll thank the stars every day for that blessing.

Bruce said his goodbyes whilst Tony thanked him profusely, before heading off for a well-earned rest. Tony immediately found out if he was granted permission to see his kid. He was in the ICU, but stable, according to Dr Cho, and could have one visitor. Tony offered it to May but she refused, claiming it would be too hard for her, so Tony took the opportunity.

He approached the door to Peter’s room with a sudden sense of nervousness, he didn’t know what faced him in there and he barely dared imagine it. He steeled himself and pushed open the door. Peter was surrounded by wires, pipes and machines, all working to keep him alive whilst his healing ability fixed what it could in his comatose state.

Tony sat in the chair next to his bed, gingerly reaching to hold Peter’s hand, trying his best to avoid jostling the wires. Tony finally let himself truly cry, the events of the day catching up with him.

Once he had calmed, he spoke softly to Peter. The boy looked so fragile, and Tony knew he would never let the kid get hurt like this again because of a flaw in something he built.

“I promise I will always look after you Underoos, I know you’ll never stay away from danger but I will protect you with everything I have.” Tony smiled softly, listening to the constant beeping that filled the room for a moment.

Finally he whispered, “I love you, kid.”

[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 2/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: thank u so so much if you left a lil love or a reblog on the first chapter of this!!!! it honestly means the world and i do see and appreciate it all so thank u SO much! hope u all enjoy the next chapter!

last chapter: December- A'whora and Tayce finally kissed after months of build-up after A'whora was jealous of the attention Tayce recieved on a night out.

this chapter: September- On a damp, bright Saturday in September, six flatmates move into their student flat and meet for the first time.

***

september- i can’t remember when we met

It’s a damp, bright day when Tayce arrives in the city for the first time.

She’s been here before- once when she was eight and again for the open day- but today it’s as if she’s seeing everything through fresh eyes. The sunshine on the puddles on the pavement gives everything a sparkle and a kind of magic, and the blue sky that pokes out from the jagged edges and roofs of stone buildings fills her with a sense of excitement and optimism.

They’ve been on the road since nine in the morning and awake since seven, and Tayce should be tired, shattered even, but she feels energised and alive as she peers out the passenger window and drinks in every last little detail of the place she’s going to be calling home for the next few years: the cobbled roads that make her Mum worry about the car’s suspension, the way the streets and roads seem to snake, dip and overlap over each other in a series of bridges and tunnels that make it almost impossible to navigate, every single little cafe and boutique and restaurant and office and kebab shop. The signs for places she’s never heard of and the buses on their way there.

Nothing can dull her excitement when they pull up on the narrow, hilled street where her block of flats are hiding, not even her Dad almost having a nervous breakdown at the wheel about the lack of parking. They decide to throw caution to the wind and park on the double yellow lines outside, her parents hurriedly helping her with her heavy, stuffed suitcase and the bin bag with all her bedding in it and walking with her as she not so much trundles but drags her things through the gates into the courtyard. Tayce takes in her surroundings with darting eyes, too much to drink in at once. There’s a high stone wall in the far left-hand corner and what looks to be the laundry room on the ground floor of the building beside it. A few scrubs of plants lined with bricks are dotted around the courtyard, where a few students are already sitting smoking. The rest of the buildings that hem them in are tall with little windows dotted all over them, and each side is painted a different colour: white, powder blue, or coral red. It’s an interesting combination but Tayce supposes she doesn’t have to look all too long or all too hard at the outside of the building if she’s going to be living inside it.

There’s some little tables set up outside with uni staff manning them, so Tayce leaves her parents with her things while she goes over to pick up her keys. It’s not a long process- she gives her name and she gets handed two keys (which she’s told are her room key and her flat key) with a keyring on them, a messy scribble that reads block 4, flat 10, room 2 with a four-digit code for the front door of the block. A welcome pack gets thrust into her other hand, and she’s sent on her way with an “enjoy freshers!”.    

It doesn’t take the three of them long to find block four, but they’re instantly dismayed to find out that flat ten is on the top floor and there’s no elevator. Tayce’s Dad is left to carry her suitcase up each flight of stairs while her Mum takes the bin bag and casts a judgemental eye over each floor of the echoey stairwell, clearly nervous about leaving her oldest child in the care of five strangers who could all very well be psychopaths.

“Mum,” Tayce cocks an eyebrow at her, reaching out to loop her arm through hers as they reach the top floor and the door of her flat. “I’ll be fine, okay? I’m a smart, sensible, responsible, gorgeous young lady. You did a great job raising me, I’ll be fucking golden, okay?”

“Hey! Watch your language, missus,” her Mum warns her, and Tayce stops herself from rolling her eyes and arguing about the fact that she’s about to begin her actual journey towards adulthood in favour of giving her Mum’s arm a squeeze of apology. “Of course you’ll be fine, I know you’ll be fine. You’re still my baby, though, I’m allowed to worry.”

“I know,” Tayce smiles sheepishly, looking down at her phone at the message she’s got from her sister. Opening it, she ends up snorting with laughter and beckoning her Dad over to look. “You should probably be more worried about what these three are getting up to with Gran, though.”

“Shit in the kettle,” her Mum exhales exasperatedly as she looks at the photo on the screen- Tayce’s sister mid-scream in the garden, as her two brothers and her Gran appear to be in the middle of a silly-string fight. Tayce is doubled over as her Mum turns to her Dad, insisting that she knew they should’ve taken them all on the journey up. Tayce is inclined to agree- she knows there wouldn’t have been space for all of them as well as her huge suitcase, but her family are close and she’s used to doing everything together. As much as she’s excited for uni, it’s going to be weird living somewhere other than her big crazy, busy house in Newport, with constant noise and bustle and the walls almost bursting at the seams with love.

If she thinks about it too much though she’ll end up getting emotional, so she pulls her keys out of the pocket of her jacket and flips her hair over her shoulder, because it’ll make things easier for her parents if they think she’s as confident and self-assured as she seems. “Besides, I’m sure the girls I’ll be living with will all have their heads screwed on alright.”

As she turns the key in the lock and opens the door, she’s met with a loud blast of music from the hallway that almost physically knocks her back a bit. Tayce turns to her Mum and Dad, smiling tightly as if to urge them not to let the loud music discredit the point she’s made.

“Hello?” Tayce yells into the hallway, tentatively approaching the first room where the door’s open and that the music is blaring out of. When there’s no answer she peers through the doorframe, a little nervous. Inside there’s a single bed, a cupboard, a set of drawers, a desk, and a bedside table all in the same pale wood-effect colour. There’s also a sink, a mirror, and a window. It’s all a very basic set of furniture, but the girl inside the room is livening the surroundings up a bit. Her hair falls in bouncy brown curls that rest on her shoulders, with a purple ribbon that snakes through them and is tied in a bow at her parting. She’s pale with dark eyebrows but the little absent-minded smile on her face goes some way to assuage Tayce’s nerves, and she’s humming along with her music as she unpacks her clothes from the suitcase she’s heaved onto the bed.  

(It occurs to Tayce, as a result of the fact that Madonna is playing and that the girl’s wearing a red flannel shirt tucked into a pair of high-waisted Mom jeans, that at least she won’t be the only lesbian in the flat.)

It’s the relief that prompts Tayce to yell out a “hey!”, which in turn makes the girl in the room yelp and snap her head around to face her, her mouth set in a slack-jawed expression of surprise which quickly melts into one of relief.

“Fuck me sideways, I just about shat myself there!” she laughs loudly, immediately turning down her music. “Oh my God, hi babes! I’ve got a flatmate, finally! We gettin’ pished or what?”

Tayce bursts out laughing, darts her eyes to her Mum and Dad’s slightly horrified expressions from further down the hall. “Bit early for that, nah?”

“It’s never too early in Scotland!” the girl cackles, approaching Tayce and immediately giving her a hug. “Hey flatmate, I’m Lawrence! Do you want a drink?”

Tayce keeps trying not to laugh but fails when Lawrence looks out into the hall and sees Tayce’s Mum and Dad, her face immediately falling in embarrassment.

“Oh. Hi, Mr and Mrs Flatmate! I’m Lawrence!”

Tayce snorts at the way her Dad gives her a resigned wave and how her Mum’s face is the picture of grimaced concern.

“I’m Tayce. That’s my Mum and Dad,” she introduces. Then, slightly embarrassed about the fact she’s got her parents with her, follows it up with, “But they’ll be leaving soon anyway.”

She hears a muttered “charming” from her Dad.

“What room’ve you got?”

“Uh…” Tayce checks her keyring, reminding herself. “Two.”

“That’s next to me!” Lawrence says enthusiastically, banging on the wall at her side as if to make her point. “Here, I’ll let you go get unpacked and say goodbye to the fam and we’ll chat after that, awright? I’ll see you after.”

“See you in a bit,” Tayce replies, trundling her suitcase down the hall as her parents follow her. As she unlocks the door to her room, she turns to them and smiles encouragingly. “See? She seems nice!”

Her Mum’s raised eyebrows prompt her not to push things.

Tayce’s room is identical to Lawrence’s- the furniture’s all in the same positions and all in the same style. A little further down the corridor past the other bedrooms is the kitchen and living-room area, which her Mum runs her fingers over to check it’s been cleaned properly. When it’s been established she’s satisfied with it the three of them return to Tayce’s room, empty apart from her belongings. The blank canvas fills her with a little tingle of excitement at the possibility of getting to decorate it all to make it properly hers, chill and cosy just like her room at home. When she thinks about home again, though, it makes her want to burst out crying and never stop, so she turns around to her parents and takes a little breath, fixing a smile onto her face.

“Well! I guess you two can leave me to get up to all sorts of mischief now. Drink beer upside-down from a tube or…whatever happens here.”

Her Mum tearfully laughs and it becomes even harder to stop herself getting upset. She asks Tayce if she wants she and her Dad to stay to help her get unpacked or if she wants to go for some food anywhere, but Tayce’s Dad, stoic as ever, says what Tayce wants to but won’t in case she hurts her Mum’s feelings- that Tayce will want to talk to her flatmate, and she won’t want her parents hanging around for too long.

So they hug goodbye tightly with tears in their eyes and snuffly noses, Tayce promising to phone every week (but she’ll probably get so homesick that it’ll be more frequent than that). She feels guilty as all hell waving her parents off down the stairs, as if she’s leaving some well-loved pet behind at a rehoming centre, but she tries to push down her emotions in favour of the small rush of excitement that’s beginning to bubble up through the upset- she’s here, it’s uni, it’s freshers, this big event that’s been built up so much in her mind.

She hopes it lives up to the hype.

It’s when she closes the front door that she hears a movement behind her, a series of small thuds against the floor.

“Right! You wanting a drink now?”

Lawrence sits in Tayce’s room while she unpacks and they talk like old friends. There’s not really any awkwardness with Lawrence; she’s outgoing and energetic and knows how to hold a conversation. Because of this, Tayce would’ve guessed she’d be studying something to do with film and TV, but it turns out she’s studying textiles and she gets excited when Tayce tells her she’s studying fine art because they’ll both have lectures at the art college. Lawrence is seventeen which shakes nineteen-year-old Tayce to her core, and they have a huge discussion about how the hell they’re both starting uni at the same time when there’s such a disparity in age between them. It turns out that the answer is Tayce taking a year out to decide what she wanted to do with her life after sixth form, and a Scottish school system that lets kids start school at the age of four. Lawrence doesn’t seem worried that her inability to get into clubs will hinder her freshers’ week, as she’s got a friend who’s in second year and is letting her borrow her ID for the week (Lawrence’s post-9pm alias for the next seven days is named Rosé McCorkell).

“How come you didn’t just take a year out and wait til you were eighteen?” Tayce asks, taking a sip of peach schnapps from one of the plastic tumblers Lawrence has offered her.

“Because I didn’t want to,” Lawrence shrugs, and Tayce raises her eyebrows in a fair enough. “I wanted to leave home- not in a bad way, but I was just bored. You’d be too if you lived there.”

Lawrence is from Helensburgh, a town Tayce has never heard of but apparently has a Waitrose and that’s about it. This indicates to Tayce that Helensburgh is a town full of Tories. No wonder Lawrence was in such a rush to get away.

Her parents seem like they’re the cool kind of parents. They dropped her off at the flat at two in the afternoon with her suitcase and a Sainsbury’s bag full of alcohol for the week (hence the reason she has so much for someone who can’t legally buy it). Her Dad doesn’t really agree with what she’s decided to study, because apparently she got the grades for something like Law or Medicine and he wanted her to do something where she was guaranteed stability and a career. In response to this Lawrence apparently sent off five different applications to five different art schools in one of the most silent, passive-aggressive fuck you-s in history.

Tayce can relate to this. She tells Lawrence what it was like to have finally decided on something to do at uni, only to be met with “are you really sure?” and “do you think that’s wise?” and “but what will you do with that?”. They moan about how it’s so frustrating to have to justify wanting to study something when really the only desire comes from just finding it interesting, or fun, or being passionate about it.

They’re about to launch into a conversation about what each of their experiences at school had been like (stemming from a story Lawrence told her about telling her guidance counsellor to get fucked when he suggested she should train to be a teacher) when there’s a commotion out in the hall, which in turn makes the two of them run to the doorframe in excitement. They find two new flatmates laughing and grappling with their suitcases which appear to have become stuck in the small hallway: one with straight, flowing dark hair that hangs over her shoulders, dark makeup, leopard print sweatpants and an excitable smile on her face, and the other with a chaotic blonde bun that looks as if they’ve slept in it, a black bralet underneath a denim jacket, and a little Kate Moss-esque gap in their teeth when they smile.

“Here! You wantin’ a hand with those?” Lawrence yells, and the two newbies give a shriek of delight, abandoning their suitcases and climbing over them to hug their two new flatmates.

They talk at about a mile a minute as they introduce themselves and pile into Tayce’s bedroom, uninvited but by no means unwelcome. Leopard-print sweatpants’ name is Tia and bun-head’s name is Bimini. In a spooky twist of fate it turns out that their seats happened to be opposite each other on the train up, and they got talking and realised they were both going to be at the same uni, in the same accomodation, and in the same flat. They’ve been excited and a little drunk ever since, Bimini tells them, the trolley on the train acting as a mobile bar for the pair of them to order endless amounts of prosecco and toast to their new friendship.

Lawrence and Tayce decide to let the pair drop their things in each of their rooms, while they relocate to the kitchen which is much bigger. Lawrence sets all her alcohol out on the rickety dining table while Tayce thuds herself down on one of the purple sofas, looking out of the adjacent window and taking in the views out onto the buildings and streets below. She’ll go exploring tomorrow, get her bearings a bit. Tonight is for getting silly with her new flatmates and sussing them all out. She’s lucky, though, that they all seem nice enough so far.

“They seem nice, don’t they? The other two,” Tayce turns to Lawrence and verbalises what she’s thinking, and Lawrence nods in agreement as she crosses over to the sofa and takes her cup to refill it.

“Yeah. I think we’ve got lucky, to be honest, My friend in second year- that one whose ID I’m borrowing- she’s told me total horror stories about weirdo flatmates.”

“We’ve still got two to arrive, there’s still time,” Tayce considers with a snort, and Lawrence shrugs in agreement.

Bimini emerges first, wedging the fire extinguisher against the kitchen door to prop it open so that any of the other new flatmates arriving will instantly know where they are. Lawrence shoves a tumbler into their hand like some sort of bartender and they all squash onto the sofas as they chat to their new flatmate. Bimini is another one who’s glad to get out of their hometown, and has come to uni to study journalism.

“I’ve already got the fucked sleeping pattern and constant hangover, so I’m halfway there,” they say almost proudly, their accent making Tayce laugh in spite of herself.

Tia joins them all as Bimini’s halfway through a rant about how hard it was to try and sort accommodation for uni, which the other girls agree with.

“They seemed to think I could commute from Helensburgh to here every day,” Lawrence rolls her eyes, and Bimini laughs in agreement.

“Well I had a fuckin’ nightmare as well. They tried putting me in a twelve-person flat at first-”

“That’s not a flat, that’s a fuckin’ small village!”

“Right! So then they kept trying to shoehorn me into an all-boys flat, because fuck, I don’t know…they heard the words ‘non-binary’ and thought ‘man’ I guess?”

“Jesus,” Tayce wrinkles her nose up. She can’t think of anything worse than having to share with a bunch of guys. No wonder Bimini didn’t want to.

Bimini laughs ruefully as they finish their story. “In the end I rang them up and said look, what do you want…do you want me to scan you a picture of my fuckin’ genitals? Why are you so obsessed, love, just give me the fuckin’ flat I want before I pass out!”

“I never thought how annoying that must be. You know, the whole all-girl flats and all-boy flats,” Tia muses, Tayce nodding in agreement. Bimini waves a dismissive hand.

“Aw, don’t get me wrong, I’m sort of glad they exist. I mean I already know I’m gonna like living here with you lot way more than a bunch of rugby lads who barely understand the concept of women, never mind me,” Bimini smiles, and the fact they’re already feeling positive about the flat makes Tayce’s heart warm. She feels the same- she’s getting good vibes from her flatmates already, and they’re doing wonders to offset the rumbling feeling of homesickness she’s pushed to the back of her mind.

Talk turns to Tia, who’s travelled all the way up from Essex. She’s studying computer science and is, in her own words, excited to turn up to her lectures and remind everyone that women exist. She’s another girl who’s come to uni straight from school, and from the sounds of it Tia couldn’t wait to leave. Essex girls- or at least the ones in Tia’s year- seemed to live up to the stereotype, and the fact that Tia didn’t walk around constantly caked in fake tan, lash extensions and heavy makeup made her a walking target for catty comments, poorly-concealed laughter and the occasional shove in the corridor.

Tayce laments with the others about how mean people could be in school. She didn’t have things too bad, she considers. Tayce was well-liked and popular for the right reasons. She always made sure to be kind to everyone (because her Gran would’ve killed her if she wasn’t) and if she had any nasty comments to make she kept them strictly between her and her best friend Cara, who she knew wouldn’t spread things around.

(She’s also the only person at school she came out to. She imagines her high school life would’ve been a lot different if she’d brought that into the mix.)

They’ve moved on to discussing what they think uni life will be like (Bimini is particularly looking forward to getting to make pancakes for breakfast every day) when Tayce notices Lawrence’s gaze lock onto something behind Tayce’s head. Her face grows shocked and awed, and a massive smile starts to spread across it. As Tayce turns around she sees another girl standing at the doorway into the kitchen with a similar expression on her face.

Tia, who’s sitting beside Lawrence, shoots the girl a smile and a wave. “Hey-”

“Aw, fuck off! Not you! Not you!”

Tayce flinches as Lawrence leaps up from the sofa, running across the room to wrap the girl in a massive hug. Their height difference makes the hug look funny, as the new girl is tall. Tayce always thought she was tall, but this girl almost defies the laws of physics. In fact, everything about the girl seems to work in extremes- her blonde hair is so thick and full of volume that her curls seem to stick out at all angles, barely tamed by a pink scrunchie keeping half of it in order on the top of her head. Her makeup is bold and perfect, two sweeps of eyeliner framing her big eyes and pink eyeshadow dusted over her lids. Two huge heart-shaped purple earrings hang from her ears embossed with the word “bitch”, which skews Tayce’s first impression somewhat. But the girl is also in a full pink tie-dye Barbie tracksuit, so she can’t be all that mean.

Lawrence finally releases her from the hug, and the girl’s laughing breathlessly as she continues to talk. “What are you actually doing here?”

The girl splutters a laugh, shakes Lawrence by the shoulders. “Bitch! I live here! I’m moving in!”

Lawrence gives a screech of excitement again, throwing her arms around the girl and swaying her from side to side. Tayce shares a look of bewildered amusement between Bimini and Tia, none of them any the wiser as to what’s going on.

When Lawrence releases the girl again, she addresses the others this time. “Well, folks, it looks like we finally got a shatmate!”

“Fuck up!” the girl shoves her side, then dashes over to the sofas. “Hey! Nice to meet you all, I’m Ellie!”

The others all get up to hug her excitedly and introduce themselves, happy that they’re all one step closer to having a full flat, and Ellie budges up in between Lawrence and Tia on the sofa opposite Tayce as she chats about herself and learns about the others. It turns out that she and Lawrence are old friends in the most bizarre coincidence ever.

“Every Easter my family would go down to the Haven holiday park in Northumberland,” Ellie tells them the story, looking at Lawrence with a rueful smile on her face. “And we’d always get the same caravan. Well, my family got talking to the family in the caravan next door, and they had a daughter the same age as me and my brother. Turns out it was this cunt, wasn’t it!”

Lawrence laughs, smacking Ellie on the arm. “We ended up going down at the same time every year! This was from when we were six right up until we were like, sixteen. And me and her and her brothers would cause absolute abject riots together. We’d spend all day in the arcade doing the dance mats-”

“And we’d always thrash you because you were so shit!” Ellie squeals, the others laughing as Lawrence gives Ellie another thump. “I still remember when you kicked the poor guy in the Bradley Bear costume in the balls because I was so scared of him that I was crying!”

“Jesus Christ, we’re really kicking off with the embarrassing stories already,” Lawrence rolls her eyes, but from the little twinkle in them Tayce can tell she’s not really too bothered.

Ellie’s another seventeen year old (Tayce makes some joke about Scotland’s school system sending infants to university) but she seems to have ordered a fake ID off some website and it looks legit enough, Tayce inspecting it as she passes it around proudly. She’s from a place called Broughty Ferry (“but it’s easier to just say Dundee”) which has a beach and a funfair and a caravan park.

“It’s the posh part of Dundee, which is a bit of a juxtaposition in all honesty,” she explains, earning a blurt of a laugh from Bimini.

Ellie’s the first in her family to go to university, and she’s studying costume design which makes Lawrence and Tayce excited about having someone else to walk over to the college of art with in the mornings. It turns out she’s got two brothers, one of which is her twin, and she and Tayce bond over how weird it’ll be to not be living with their siblings for the first time in their lives.  

Tayce doesn’t know when the minutes turn to hours but they do, the sky outside gradually growing a little darker before she even realises it. In all honesty, she feels she’s got lucky with her flatmates; they all seem to be a good laugh and kind and normal enough. It’s odd, though, that there’s still the five of them. Tayce checks her phone and she sees that it’s gone seven.

“Do we think the other girl’s going to come tomorrow?” she wonders out loud, as Tia tops up Ellie’s glass with the litre bottle of vodka she’s brought with her.

“Maybe? Bit weird not coming for the first night of freshers,” Ellie wrinkles her nose in disapproval.

“Well maybe she’s got a long haul flight or something,” Tia shrugs.

“I hope she’s not posh.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and turns to her friend. “Lawrence, you think anyone that’s from anywhere south of Paisley is posh.”

Tayce snorts at Ellie’s delivery and Lawrence’s affronted reaction, despite the fact she couldn’t put Paisley on a map if you paid her. Just then, Bimini emerges from the hall, having been to their room to grab some cigarettes so they can smoke out the window.

“We talking about the last flatmate? There’s someone moving around in the room next to mine.”

Tayce’s eyes widen a little as she looks at the others. “Have they just arrived?”

“Nah, door was shut so they’ve probably been there a while, we just ain’t noticed. Too busy getting bevved.”

“How come they’ve not come through?” Lawrence asks, her eyes narrowing. Ellie gives her a dig in the ribs with her elbow, her drink sloshing out of her glass a little.

“Because you screeching every word you speak doesn’t exactly scream ‘calm, welcoming environment’?”

“Did you knock on the door?” Tayce asks Bimini, who pulls a face.

“Well, it was kinda awkward. Think they might’ve been crying. I could hear a lot of sniffing. Still, maybe they just got a runny nose. Or they were doing a key.”

The girls all splutter at Bimini’s turn of phrase, but something heavy and uncomfortable lodges itself in Tayce’s heart at the thought of one of her new flatmates in their room on their own, alone and upset. That could very well have been Tayce if she hadn’t had Lawrence’s infectiously funny energy to pull her out of her potential slump. She decides to slide off the sofa, decisive if a little nervous.

“I’ll go see if I can talk to them.”

“Should we come with you?” Ellie asks earnestly, earning her a snort from Tia.

“Babe, the last thing she wants if she’s upset is all of us barging into her room half-drunk and hyper!”

As the others laugh, Tayce watches an ashamed little blush colour Ellie’s face. She shrugs and addresses her new flatmates as she heads towards the doorframe. “I’ll be five minutes tops. Then we can all get ready to go out.”

Tayce leaves and her plan makes the others give a little cheer of anticipation. She’s admittedly a little nervous, though. She doesn’t want to disturb her new flatmate if they just want to be left on their own, nor does she want to annoy them or give the impression of being too nosy. The only thing that keeps her approaching the room beside hers, however, is the knowledge that if it had been her in their position, she’d have wanted the same.

The door to the girl’s room is slightly ajar, but Tayce still knocks before she pushes it open a little. She doesn’t hear a “go away” or a “piss off”, so she takes that as a cue to go inside. As the room is gradually revealed to her, Tayce realises that Bimini was right when they said she must have been there for a while- the room is more or less fully decorated. There’s a string of pink fairy lights which gives the room a soft, warm glow, and photos are stuck to most available surfaces. A rose gold Macbook sits on the desk beside a little money plant in a dark green pot, and there’s stationary all perfectly laid out too. Everything is tidy and neatly in its place, and on top of the bed with its palm leaf printed duvet cover and pillows a girl is sitting curled up into a ball, hugging a well-worn cuddly toy cat to her chest which is immediately discarded under her pillow when she realises Tayce’s eyes are on her.

“Hey,” Tayce begins softly, acutely aware she’s intruded on an emotional moment. “Do you mind if I come in?”

The girl swipes two perfectly applied acrylics under her lashes, snuffles and gives a forced smile. “No, of course! No. It’s fine, come in.”

Tayce smiles tightly as she crosses the room, perches on the edge of the girl’s bed awkwardly. “I’m Tayce, by the way.”

The girl takes a little breath and composes herself. Her makeup is still perfect save from the small black smudges at her lower lash line and the way a little bit of her foundation has rubbed off on her nose. Her smile grows a little more genuine as she introduces herself to Tayce in her Northern accent. “I’m Aurora. Sorry, this is so embarrassing!”

“Oh, babe, don’t worry,” Tayce reassures her, shaking her head. “Honestly I was almost like that leaving my parents as well. Only reason I wasn’t was because I had the others to take my mind off things.”

“Still, not exactly a cracking first impression I’m making. Hiding in my room like a freak,” Aurora rolls her eyes at herself, stretching her legs a bit so they’re not hugged at her chest. She gives a little sigh. “Just…it was hard leaving my sister. We’re really close and I’ve not been away from her like this before. Longest was probably a week on year six camp and I cried like a baby every night then as well. Good to know not much has changed.”

Tayce smiles gently at her joke. “It’s alright, I don’t think I’ve matured much since I was in year six either.”

Aurora lets out a genuine giggle and tucks her long, blonde hair behind her ears. Knowing she’s helped her feel a little better reassures Tayce that coming to see her was the right thing to do.

“Probably a good thing that you decorated your room first anyway. I still haven’t made my bed, that’s a job for drunk me coming in tonight,” Tayce continues, heartened as Aurora laughs again. “You’re gonna hear me stumbling around with a sheet over my head like a Scooby-Doo ghost.”

“I’d offer to help but my goal for the night is to get so drunk that I forget about missing my family entirely, or that I even have a family. Or that I’m even a sentient human being.”

“Oh, that’s the goal right there. First night of freshers, gotta go big or go home,” Tayce winks, and the pair of them share a smile.

“So wait, are you next door to me then?” Aurora asks, tilting her head with intrigue.

“I’m on that side, Bimini’s on your other side,” Tayce points at each wall in turn, and Aurora nods. Tayce bounces a little on the bed as she slaps her lap decisively. “Speaking of, d’you want to come meet everyone?”

Tayce can see the uncertainty and hesitation on Aurora’s face. She clearly notices Tayce watching her, because she meets her eyes and gives a bashful sort of smile. “God, honestly, I promise I’m not normally this shy. I’m just scared that everyone thinks I’m a total weird bitch for hiding in my room.”

“They don’t at all!” Tayce protests, smiling kindly at Aurora as she insists. “They’re all lovely, honestly. Bimini is so fun already, Tia is really nice and so’s Ellie, and it’s impossible to be sad when Lawrence is around, she’s hilarious. C’mon, I’ll go with you.”

“God, I’ve probably ruined all my makeup,” Aurora moans, sliding off her bed and crossing the room to look at her reflection in the mirror. She turns around to face Tayce as she speaks again. “Do I look like total shit? You have to be honest with me, we’re flatmates.”

Tayce laughs at Aurora’s joke, and she looks properly at her flatmate. She’s got these big brown eyes and long lashes and Tayce is already a little jealous of both of them. Her lips are full and her nose is small and her skin is clear and glowing.

She’s really pretty.

“You look lush,” Tayce smiles supportively, putting a hand on the doorhandle and making to open it. “Don’t be nervous. I’ll even be your government assigned emotional support flatmate tonight, if you want.”

“Tonight? I think I’ll need one every night,” Aurora laughs bashfully, tucking her hair behind her ears again. “This was really kind of you, y’know. Thanks, Tayce.”

Tayce opens the door and holds it open for her, glad she’s drawn her new flatmate out of her shell and excited for the first night of freshers to properly begin.

“No worries. Let’s go get drunk.”

[nitannichionne]

If He Was YOUR Fan, Chapter 8: Working Things Out (Henry Cavill x Reader Fan Fic)

You walk with Henry to his car and he puts you in the passenger’s seat. He bumps into the director, whom he has a short conversation with and he does a double take at seeing you in the car. You swallow hard. Was this a good idea? You sitting in the car like this is a neon sign, isn’t it? He wants to keep this quiet, doesn’t he?

You watch him walk back to the car. God, he looks like he’s about to take care of business.

                        You hope it’s the sun in his eyes. It’s just that you feel like you’ve seen that scowl earlier in the gym. The memory of it has had you a bit tense; even though he has smiling and carrying on all day, you note the glint of something you can’t put your finger on when his eyes lock with yours. Unfinished. Unsaid. Undone.

You are a bit quiet during the drive, unsure of what he may say when you are truly alone. He tells you about the nearby town and some things you should know.

Finally you reach Henry’s rental home. It’s your first time there. The place is somewhat of a cave. The colors are mostly dark, but rich, and the light does something to change the mood of the place; it feels warm then. It feels masculine and mysterious to you and you feel like you’ve entered a lair.

You see his gaming computer set up and running with a “Warcraft” screensaver and cannot believe the size of the screen. “How big is that?”

“Forty-three, I think,” he shrugs as Kal follows him. “Have a seat. I’ll just be a minute.” He disappears into the rest of the house, and you assume he is feeding Kal.

You look around and admire a chess set. It looks hand-painted and expensive, so you don’t touch it.

“You play?”

You feel a little ashamed, shaking your head. “No.”

“You look sad about it.”

“My sis was really good at it-learned fast, but I wasn’t, so Dad played with her.”

“I can teach you if you like.”

“Maybe,” you say, shrugging again. “It is a beautiful set. You painted it, didn’t you?”

He grins and nods. “Yes, thank you.”

He takes your hand, and sits in a chair. He pulls you down on him again, spreading your legs and you do so willingly. “Truth or dare, love.”

“Truth,” you say quickly, your heart skipping a beat.

“Do you know that Archer is into you?”

“Stella says he is.”

“You don’t believe it.”

“I don’t—”

“He—” He rakes your back. “is into you.

You tremble as his fingertips sensitize you and you arch to him as you did before. “Truth or Dare?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’d rather say ‘Dare,’ but I’ll do you a favor this round and say, ‘Truth.’”

“What about Gracie?”

He takes a deep breath, and you open your eyes to look at him. “She knows I have someone and she knows it isn’t her.” He pulls your face down for a kiss and holds the side of your neck, gingerly. “She knows I don’t want her.”

“Henry—”

“Dal,” He corrects. “I want you.”

The words don’t sound real. How many times have you heard that, said so directly, yet so softly and sensually? You look into his eyes and you’re lost.

“Don’t you want me?”

Now it’s surreal. “Yes, yes, I want you, but—”

“But—?”

“Can I have a little more time?” You beg in a squeaked voice. “More than three dates?”

He licks his lips. “I get it, I do, but—” He pulls you into his hips, making it known the point of his arousal. “I meant what I said, pet.”

You gasp at the hardness, the size of him and you feel your sex ache. “Ohhh.”

“Truth or Dare, love?” He asks, hands still on your hips.

You look at him. “Dare.”

A slow smile forms on his lips. “I dare you to tell Archer you’re taken tomorrow.”

You still. “He’ll want to know who.”

“Not my problem,” his voice is suddenly low-Geralt low-primal and almost harsh. “None of his businesss.”

“Truth or Dare?”

His chuckle is deep and extremely male, giving you goosebumps as his blue eyes spark at you and his canines show. “Dare.”

“I dare you to be a gentleman for the rest of the night.”

He frowns at that. “That’s not a dare.”

“Neither was yours.” You pause. “I saw you had a grill out there?” You need to do something other than thinking of your bodies intertwined. You begin to wonder what his bedroom looks like, and you haven’t asked-well not yet.

“Yes.”

“How about we grill kebabs?” you suggest softly. “Meat and veggie ones since you have to stay on that while filming, no complex carbs or anything.”

“That is the way to a man’s heart,” he says humorously. “But I prefer the other sometimes.”

You laugh together, still holding each other. This is the tango of tangos, you realize. You just want no losers in the end.

After supper, you go back inside and sit on the couch.

“I’ve been good,” Henry says softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “My hands haven’t strayed, my lips haven’t found yours. Don’t I get anything?”

“Yes, yes you do.” You tilt your head to the side and get up. “Lie down.” He obeys your request. You crawl over him and he breaks into a grin that could light the room. You straddle his hips, your favorite place these days,  and lean forward. You rake his scalp from front hair line to nape of neck, first at the top, then the sides. He purrs, closing his eyes and relaxing, and you smile at that. He looks unreal, like a male Sleeping Beauty to you. You bring your thumbs together at the center of his forehead and glide down to his temples, using your thumbs there, but using other fingers to cradle and massage his scalp in circular motion.

“Mmmh.”

“Common point of tension, hon.” After doing that eight times. You start again at his forehead with your thumbs and bring them down his nose and out under his eyes along his eye sockets all the way out to his sideburns. You kiss his forehead gently and on the eighth glide massage his ears, front and back in circular motions, bringing your fingers down to where his jaw hinges.

“Ahhhh…”

“Lots of tension there, I knew it,” you whisper. “To be one so strong and in control, it only makes sense.”

You kiss his lips and his purposely clings to yours, lengthening the contact. You gently begin massaging his neck, gliding from under his ears to the point of his chin, and you easily pull your mouth away from his as he is lost in sensation again. You glide from the back of neck to his Adam’s apple in a downward motion, moving the tension. You do the whole neck glide again in reverse, looking at the relaxed expression on his face, feeling his hands resting on your hips. He was still being the gentleman, as he dared to do. You finally glide your hands from the base of his neck out over his traps none too gently, feeling the corded and hard muscles there, sweeping the tension out to his shoulders.

“Where is your tension?” Even with his eyes closed, his smile is a bit mischievous. His fingers begin to knead your hips gently, but his hips don’t move.

“Neck and traps,” you reply,. continuing your massage with a few glides over the space between above his collar bone and taking the tension out to his shoulders

“Poor darling,” he whispers. “Who does this for you?”

“No one.”

“You go to a spa.”

“No,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed. Truthfully, you can’t afford it. You add, “I have gone twice though.” You massage each shoulder and rotate it. “I can massage myself to an extent if I really need to.” You freeze. “Boy, that did not come out right.”

He laughs. “I know what you meant.”

You’re not sure where to stop. You decide to do his arms, gliding over his biceps, triceps and forearms, then ending by stroking the palm of each hand all the way to the fingertips. You kiss each one.

He opens his eyes and captures your wrists, kissing each hand. “The dare is done.”

“You are supposed to—”

“You kissed my fingers, your hips-” his eyes drop to where your bodies meet as he sits up halfway. “have been gently riding me the last few minutes, and that is not ladylike. So—to hell with being a gentleman!”

You gasp and give a small cry then laugh as he reverses your positions and begins kissing you-your forehead, your temples, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. Your arms close around him and he nuzzles your neck, tickling you and making you instinctively arch to him and laugh outright.

His lips trace your collarbone. “You wouldn’t happen to know full body massage, would you?”

“Yes, and also with hot stones.”

His eyes lift to yours. “Darling, that is something worth looking forward to.”

Thanks for all the support, current tagmates! Drop me a note if you want to be tagged. I put pictures in because-well, it’s engaging for the viewer,and  can break up monotony of words (since I write at least 1500 words a chapter), giving the eyes a break. Wisdom and wellness to you!

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[hxseok-honee]

blossom | part 8

blossom [part 8] || “Jungkook doesn’t like me very much, does he?”

[‘cause all i need is to see you blossom out, blossom out, blossom out]

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“-- And there’s Jacobson with the quaffle, passing right through Slytherin defences -- he bought a flower crown from me once for his girlfriend, great guy -- Oh, there he goes! Will he make the shot? And he scores! Another ten points to Gryffindor!” Whatever calls of annoyance are made from the Slytherins are quickly drowned out by the cheers of the other three houses as Gryffindor scores once again, placing them yet another ten points ahead of their opponent.

Y/n cheers alongside her friends, but she does so almost mechanically. She can’t bring herself to focus on the match, too busy keeping her eyes on the commentator. She’d heard that since the last quidditch commentator had graduated he would need to be replaced, but she hadn’t exactly put two and two together a few days ago when asking Hoseok why he’d been so excited about the match. 

Up in the commentator’s box stands a very enthused Jung Hoseok, decked out all in yellow despite the match being Gryffindor v. Slytherin. He’s got his Hufflepuff scarf draped loosely over his shoulders as he follows the match, ears tinted red as they poke out cutely from under his hat. His gaze follows the quaffle with impressive focus, large wire-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, aiding his mission and making his eyes look impossibly round in the process. 

He gives himself a small moment to relax only when goals are scored and there’s a few brief seconds of respite as the crowd reacts and the players fix positions for the next set of formations. In those few seconds, he’s shaking out his tense limbs and pushing his glasses back up to a comfortable spot as he takes a couple deep breaths. And -- just as he’s managed to do every time for the last ten goals in a row -- he allows himself the fraction of a second it takes to locate Y/n in the crowd below him, eyes meeting hers in an exchange of small smiles and even smaller waves.

She remembers the way he’d used his time before the match watching the crowd trickle in, twisting his scarf around in his hands nervously as more and more students started gathering and cheering for their respective teams. Once it had become clear that the crowd had split itself off in the stands, he’d started searching the sea of red scarves and hats almost desperately, biting away at the skin on his bottom lip as he scanned the faces of his classmates. Only when he’d found Y/n, standing in the back row with her friends (sans Yoongi and Jin, who were stubborn in their undying support of the admittedly horrible Slytherin quidditch team), did he release his lip from its torture, flashing her a bright smile and sending an exaggerated wave that required his entire body. She tries not to think, even now with the match almost over, about the fact that he’d been looking for her in the first place.

So caught in her thoughts, Y/n barely registers that Hoseok is yelling Jungkook’s name, cheering alongside the rest of the Gryffindor supporters as her ex-boyfriend flies past her on his broom, quaffle tucked securely under his arm. 

“-out of nowhere! Jeon Jungkook is at it again, insanely complicated maneuvers that I know nothing about making him almost impossible to catch as he races for the goal! Slytherin Keeper Alvin Durmenstringer -- is that a real name? -- is no match for the Chaser as they go head to head -- and he scores! We can expect nothing less from Gryffindor’s star player, who is not nearly as goth as I thought he was going to be -- he’s actually kind of intimidatingly athletic, isn’t he? I mean just look at his arms -- okay, I’ve been informed that I’m no longer being professional so let’s focus on the match! Another ten points to Gryffindor!” 

Y/n watches as Jungkook shakes his head at the commentary, a scoff leaving him as he flies back into position. He appears indifferent as always, but Y/n knows him well enough to see the smallest of smiles dancing across his lips at the praise of the crowd. If they had still been together, Y/n would have found that smile unfairly attractive, but at this moment in time all she can think about is how arrogant he looks. Sighing slightly, her eyes scans over the crowd opposite her, a sea of green and silver, until she finds Yoongi. He and Jin are booing Jungkook obnoxiously, and she can see even from here that Yoongi’s letting loose an interesting string of expletives as the Gryffindor passes him. 

Only when Jin places a hand over his roommate’s mouth does Yoongi calm down. Y/n can hear Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jimin laughing loudly beside her, and she guesses that they’ve all just witnessed the wrath of their aggressive Slytherin friend. Yoongi glances over at the spot where he knows they’re all seated, and, realizing they’ve all seen his display of emotions, he sends Y/n a wink, eyes dancing with mirth. She’s immensely grateful for him, as she has come to be over and over again in the seven years she’s known him. 

The match continues much in this manner -- Gryffindor absolutely dominating the quidditch pitch as Yoongi’s blood pressure rises, Hoseok’s creative narration filling the air until the very end. It’s no surprise that, even though the Slytherin Seeker had managed to find and catch the snitch before his opponent, Hoseok still gets to excitedly announce to the crowd that, with a gap of more than 150 points between them, Gryffindor had won regardless.

The crowd loses all semblance of control, cheers audible even from the castle as three out of four houses celebrate a victory. The Gryffindor team flies around the pitch, reveling in house pride. Up in the commentator’s box, Hoseok turns off his mic and flops down in the stool that had been behind him the entire time, completely unused. He removes his hat, running his fingers swiftly through his hair and letting out a dramatic sigh. He sits there for a few minutes, watching the crowd and the Gryffindor team with a smile, leaning forward at some point to plant his elbows on the ledge and watch the excitement with his chin in his hand.

Finally, he moves to leave, rising to his full height and shoving his hat back onto his head, ears sticking out cutely once again. Glancing quickly over at the spot where Y/n had been, he stops in his tracks when he realizes that she still hasn’t left. In fact, she’s still sitting with her friends as they wait for Yoongi and Jin to make their way around the stands to join them, and she’s still got her eyes on him. The noise of the crowd is drowned out slightly in his ears, and he finds himself warming at the idea of her watching him -- waiting for him to look for her, too. He waves sweetly at her, heat crashing over him and painting his cheeks an embarrassing pink when he sees that she’s mouthing words of encouragement at him for his job well done. He thinks of something to say back, but he doesn’t get the chance. There’s a Gryffindor player hovering in the space between them, and he can tell even from where he stands that he’s looking at the back of Jeon Jungkook’s head.

On the other side, Y/n is interrupted by a pair of eyes she could recognize even in her sleep, but it isn’t the fact that Jungkook’s gotten in the way that bugs her -- it’s his expression. It’s filled with something close enough to annoyance for her to find herself becoming agitated, but there’s something else there too. Is it hurt? Betrayal? Disbelief? Y/n can’t pin it down, but she’s certain he must be bothered that she isn’t paying as much attention to Gryffindor’s star player as he’d like. 

He’s finally pulled away from her by the sound of his own name, called by his captain as he’s instructed to join the team in the locker room. With one last glance, he waves coolly to the rest of their friends as he flies off, leaving her both confused and irritated. Her only comfort -- that is, until Yoongi appears behind her with an arm thrown over her shoulders and a chaotic presence that only she could find comforting -- is that Hoseok still hasn’t left, and he’s looking as confused as she feels. He smiles awkwardly at her before waving farewell, choosing at the last moment to pull out his phone and gesture for her to do the same. 

Reaching into her pocket just as it’s buzzing, she opens the text thread to read the new message, not even noticing the weight of Yoongi’s body hanging off of her as he reads over her shoulder.

Jungkook doesn’t like me very much, does he? 

She feels rather than hears the hum that leaves Yoongi’s body as he considers the text from behind her. When he speaks, she finds herself turning to hide in his embrace, a noise of annoyance muffling itself in his chest as she realizes what he’s saying is very likely to be true. 

“Looks like you’re going to be dealing with a very crabby Jungkook at the after-party tonight.”