#and when i asked if we’d been made aware of the change another manager said yes and i was like WHEN?? I WOULD HAVE HAS WUES

[katranga]

getting tegan and sara stuck in my head at work “out of my mind, out of my mind” because nothing here makes ANY FUCKING SENSE

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Hello,

I was wondering if maybe you could write some sort of fluffy story with torchbearer Josh. Maybe something angsty/fluffy, like reader being worried about him before the Banditos go to do the big fight at Dema in Paladin Strait? If not, that’s okay too. No pressure. I’m just happy I found someone writing TØP on this site.

We're Going Back - Torchbearer!Josh Dun x GN!Reader

Pairing: TorchbearerJosh x Gender Neutral Bandito Reader

Warnings: Some swearing, anxiety/panic attacks, fight between Josh and Reader (reader actually is mean guys) There's fluff at the end tho!!

Word Count: 1523 (a nice long one for you anon)

Summary: When Reader finds out that Clancy and Torchbearer are going back into Dema she does everything she can to prevent it.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it anon. Please feel free to request more because I honestly love writing for twenty one pilots. And requests are what help keep me writing I-/

Note - some of this is headcannon for the purposes of making the story work

The day Clancy and I left Dema, I knew there was no going back. It just wasn’t happening. We’d managed to escape together. He’d been outside the walls alone before but during the annual assemblage he’d convinced me to ‘tag along’ as he’d put it. We’d been close friends growing up in Dema, that was just the way it was. Things changed once we left. I remember the day I met the Torchbearer, Josh. It took a lot longer than I thought it would to learn his name. For reasons unknown; he'd kept it a secret known only by his closest friends (or in my case, girlfriend). Clancy and I had only spent a few weeks at the Bandito camp before he was recaptured. He was gone for years. While I knew Josh was looking out for him, I knew exactly what kind of pain Clancy was going through. It was Dema. Josh hadn’t grown up within the walls like Clancy and I, things were different for him, he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. Which was why when he reunited with Clancy and brought him back to the camp, my panic attacks started.

“Oh god you look so different,” I cried into Clancy’s shoulder, “are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not. You’re back.” He nodded quietly, I could feel the tightness of his body in my arms. “What’s wrong?” I asked. 

“We’re going back in,” he voiced bluntly, looking at Josh who nodded knowingly. This wasn’t happening. Clancy wasn’t going back, he’d just gotten out. He’d just been forced against his own will to create propaganda for the very institution that nearly killed us. Not to mention Josh hadn’t been physically in the city for longer than a few hours before. Of course they weren't going in there. Right? 

“You should go get some rest before we start preparations,” Josh said, clearly noticing the shocked look on my face. “It’s good to have you back, Clancy.” Clancy’s eyes darted to mine before he walked toward the tent that had been empty for years. Josh and I were left alone, standing in the middle of the camp. 

“You said we,” I muttered. 

“I did,” he replied, looking at me carefully. He’d grown used to the constant nightmares I’d had about my time in Dema and worries about Clancy. “You know why we're doing this,” He said. His tone made it clear he was  stating the obvious.

“You’re going with him,” I could feel my head throbbing as I grabbed his hand tightly. Josh looked at me, a quiet sigh escaping him while he led me to our private tent. 

“Of course I am.” He said matter of factly; like he never would have even considered another option. We sat down, his arms wrapping around my torso, the brightly coloured tattoo sleeve peeking out under his shirt. 

“It’s not safe and you goddamn know it Josh,” my voice trembled as I remembered my time in the city. All I could think about was how isolating and cold it was. Josh almost chuckled, despite the fact that the situation really wasn’t funny.

“I’m aware it’s dangerous,” He retorted, his hand resting on his forehead before he looked at me again,“I’m not gonna let him go in there alone.” 

“The bishops will kill you the second they see you, and then what? The rebellion is over. Both of our leaders will be dead, the banditos will be killed and everyone will have lost.” Josh was getting frustrated now, his grip on me loosening with every exchange. He didn’t want to be having this conversation, I could tell, but he knew if he tried to walk away I’d just follow him.

“That’s not going to happen. We have a plan, we’ll be fine,” He said, his voice full of empty hope. I knew what I was about to say when I said it, I knew I was firing a shot. One I’d been keeping in till I needed to use it. 

“Oh and how did your last ‘plan’ turn out Josh? What with Clancy being recaptured and forced to write SAI?” He dropped his arms from me and moved away so he was sitting directly in front of me. 

“Don’t.” He snapped, a hand raising and pointing at me. “Don’t bring that up.” He clenched his teeth, his jaw tightening as anger and frustration was starting to overtake his mind. I had to fight the urge to continue throwing emotional bullets his way. I was going to make it clear to him that it was dangerous in Dema, that he couldn’t go, regardless of whether or not it hurt our relationship. Because I loved him and I couldn’t lose any more than I already had. 

“Why not?” I challenged him, “It was your plan.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” he exhaled, his whole body tense now as he yelled. “You don’t think I lay awake at night thinking it’s all my fault Clancy was captured?” His fists were clenched, he was fighting the urge to punch something. Maybe himself, maybe a wall. He closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths, trying to calm himself like he’d taught me when I’d had nightmares. He looked like he was about to check out for the rest of the day, what I’d said really had an impact on him. “Stop,” He managed to mutter, still fighting to stay in control of his emotions.

“Okay,” I nodded. I knew exactly how he’d felt about Clancy and SAI. I knew he thought it was his fault so he spent every waking hour with Clancy, making sure he could get back safely. I knew he blamed himself, not only for Clancy’s time back in Dema but also for hurting me. He hated himself so much already and hearing me remind him of what he thought about himself all the time was making him feel terrible. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting for a moment before he finally spoke again, his voice shaky. “Just stop… please..”

I reached out to hold him, “I’m sorry, I went too far Josh.” He rested his head into the crook of my neck, quiet sobs filling the air. He melted at my touch, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me closer as he held back sobs.

“Please,” He eventually muttered, “Please don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you, I’m just scared. I don’t want you or Clancy leaving me again, I can't take any more losses,” I pressed my lips to his temple. 

“I know, I know,” He mumbled, his eyes squeezed shut as he was trying to compose himself. I continued to hold him tightly, not wanting to ever let go. “I’m scared too,” he added, his voice quiet. Eventually he pulled back and looked at me, his eyes slightly bloodshot from crying. He took a deep breath, still trying to keep hold of whatever composure he could. “We’ll be fine, I promise,” he mumbled, but even I could tell he had doubts. 

“You can’t promise that,” I sighed. 

“Watch me,” he replied sternly, though the shakiness in his voice didn’t help. He reached a hand out now, a cold palm cupping my chin as his eyes met mine. “I promise, we’ll come back. You have my word.” He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine for a few moments. 

“If I lose you, I need you to know that you're the best thing to ever happen to me, Torchbearer.” I tried desperately to come to terms with the fact that I was going to have to let him go.

“Don’t talk like that,” He whispered, “Not like you’re already saying good-bye to me.” I cupped his face gently, pressing my lips to his in an attempt to wade off tears. He melted into the kiss, gripping his hands at my sides as he held onto me. He deepened the kiss, his head tilting so the angle was better as he pulled me closer. I would’ve been happy to stay here if it meant him not having to leave. We pulled back as the fabric of the tent rustled, Clancy entering. We pulled back as the fabric of the tent rustled, Clancy entering. 

“It's time to start packing supplies and getting the others ready if we want to make it on time.” With a slight exhale Josh pulled away, turning to look at Clancy and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah we need to get moving,” he mumbled, his hands letting me go.

“Josh?” I called, catching him just before he followed Clancy outside.

He turned to look at me again, a hint of concerned look plastered onto his face. 

“Yeah?” He replied, his voice quiet.

“You better keep that promise.” I desperately attempted to hold back my sobs, knowing full well that as soon as one slipped I was a goner. 

“I will,” he whispered, taking a step closer to me again. “I’ll come back.” With careful hands he reached out and wiped away a stray tear that was rolling down my cheek. “I’ll always come back to you.”

//

Please submit any requests y'all have! I love to write so let me know if you've got any!

[aealrizen]

The winding streets of Andapos were quiet with the fade of daylight being broken into rectangle stripes by the buildings. Ian only got turned around only a few times, but Whip assured him it was alright since it had been over two decades since the last time they had even been to the city. Ian was remembering more than Whip did, so he didn’t feel he had any place to complain. He was more focused on keeping the group together, and calm. Midas seemed to be doing better now that they weren’t indoors, but Whip didn’t know how long that would last. He had been quite vocal when they’d stopped to talk about Ian’s past, but after walking for more than ten minutes, the scenery changing completely once again, Midas was sullen and watchful of every movement. It made Whip wonder what had actually happened to this kid.

A thought he wasn’t able to dwell on since Ian made a triumphant noise and started walking with more purpose. It looked like he found the address they were supposed to head to, even if it did look more like a residential home to Whip. “...You sure this is the correct place?” he asked, peeking over Ian’s shoulder while they huddled at the front door.

“The address matched what was written down,” Ian defended, holding the note paper up where Whip could see and pointing at the display screen next to the door as well. “Perhaps this is just the proprietor’s home, and they’ll direct us to another place to stay after covering the documentation and rules and stuff.”

It made sense, and Whip tried not to feel anxious as Ian tapped the button to ring the bell. People were unpredictable. And while Benjamin had been very cordial and normal for his everyday job, Whip never let go of at least a small amount of suspicion. As soon as the bell had sounded Whip heard what he guessed was a child running towards the door, calling out that someone was there. And then a woman’s voice, and a squeal as he imagined she grabbed the child. There was a click of a deadbolt, and the door swung open to reveal a head full of dark brown, corkscrew curls pulled back into a poofy ponytail.

“Sorry! Hello!” the woman greeted, and Whip could now see her face graced with a bright smile as she wrangled her son. “You must be the ones Benny called about earlier. Come in, come in! Have you eaten yet? I’m just finishing dinner.”

The invitation to enter the building wasn’t unexpected, but the question about eating was. Whip’s brows furrowed in suspicious confusion as he absently reached out to wrap an arm around Midas’ shoulders. The poor kid had stiffened up as soon as they had been invited inside, and Whip had to practically drag him to follow Ian.

“Thank you. We didn’t stop anywhere on the way here, but you don’t need to worry about it. We can manage,” Ian responded politely, figuring she was just offering out of custom.

“Oh nonsense. I’m sure Benny will be more than happy to have you join us tonight. He said so over the phone. Asked me to make sure you felt at home, but then got all worried because he didn’t know what you were used to for a home. But I don’t think that matters. Everyone is comfortable with a warm meal and a roof over their heads, yeah?” the lady rambled excitedly, setting her son down and shooing him away. “Berko, go find the utensils and stop hovering. They’ve had a long day.”

“Kay!” Berko chimed, giving a last look at the newcomers before he scurried off to the kitchen. Ian was guessing he must have been about four or five years old, his hair also curled but quite a bit lighter in shade than his mom’s.

Whip wasn’t even bothering to try to be polite now, frowning as he kept Midas in his hold. They kept huddled in the front room, but Ian was the only one that gave them the benefit of exposing their intention vocally instead of having to be discovered. “I’m sorry, what exactly is going on here? Ben-... Secretary Morna mentioned there was to be a place to stay for the night, but we weren’t aware we’d be sharing.”

The slight coolness to Ian’s formality hinted to Whip that he was wary too. But it was still too soon to make any defensive moves, so Whip moved his hand down to grab Midas’ gun itchy fingers instead. Looking sideways at the lad, Whip barely twitched his head. No weapons. Not in a civilian home. Not unless someone else drew them first.

“Oh, don’t worry, we have guest rooms,” the lady assured, seeming to get a little nervous as well.

There was someone else at the entrance door now, and all three of the visitors turned before the doorknob started turning. Whip’s eyes immediately flicked back to the woman to make sure she didn’t try anything. Midas was practically shaking now from how tense he was, and Whip moved his hand again to his back to try and comfort him as the door swung silently open again.

“Oh! Good, you made it and didn’t immediately leave.” The figure entering the house just moments after them was Benjamin, and he looked both relieved, but also extremely anxious and excited. The smile he had faded though when he took in the expressions of his guests. “Oh no. I really should have explained more, but I wanted to have the proof before I did. It’s not an ambush or a setup or anything like that. No one else is coming, and no one has eyes on this place,” he explained hurriedly, holding his hands up to show they were empty. “I just need to fetch the documents from upstairs. Could you wait long enough to look at what I want to show you?”

Ian was frowning, but Benjamin seemed fairly sincere. He was nervous, but not because he was waiting for or expecting something to happen. It was all very strange, and Ian was starting to wonder if this was all because of a different issue. Maybe Benjamin hadn’t set them up to be arrested because of city related affronts, but maybe this was more personal. He had to have guessed that Ian knew who Clara was after the way he’d acted, so maybe it was family related. Still, Ian was willing to give him one more doubt, if just to shove his selfish doubts in his own crimes away. “Okay…” Ian responded hesitantly, his voice weaker than he would have liked.

Benjamin almost sagged with relief. “Thank you,” he breathed, bowing low in a smooth motion before rushing past them.

“Welcome home,” the lady whispered quietly, catching Benjamin before he could get too far up the stairs and stealing a quick kiss before letting go.

“I’m back,” Benjamin whispered back, smiling fondly before taking the stairs two at a time.

______________________

I’m having one of those attention span of a thimble times of ....months I guess. ;v; Sorry for the long delays between these. Busy time, overly busy mind on other things.

[imthebadguyyy]

maybe something like interviewer asking her sexist questions and the boys stand up for her , after that interview she feels insecure and the boys comfort her . that's just an idea you don't have to write it !! <33

I hope you like it, and I'm so sorry about the delay 😭 I couldn't find my footing with this one, and I hope it's what you wanted ! Have a lovely day 💙

The One Where They're There For Her

Pairing - One Direction x Reader (6thmember!female!reader)

Fandom - One Direction (Directioners)

Summary - A particularly sexist interview decides to reduce you to just a sexual being and makes no effort to hide his misogyny. But the boys are there to support you.

Warnings - sexualization of the lgbt community, sexist comments, swearing, (honestly I hated myself for writing some of the comments here,and I'm so sorry)

Being a part of the biggest band in the world comes with certain responsibilities. Not responsibilities that come along with signing a recording contract, but those that a person deems themselves responsible for. For example, as the only female in a boyband, a female with a fanbase as large as yours, you took it upon yourself to always stand up for what's right, and to be an ally for the causes close to your heart.

That meant that your social media was often flooded with information about important causes, or your opinions on issues like feminism. Was it always well received? Heck no. There were people filled your feed with hate and comments calling you the most horrible names and labelling you a 'man hater' and a 'bitch' But you didn't let it get to you. On most days. On days like today, it was all you could do to keep it together. It had been a tiring few days, touring, recording, performing and doing an endless amount of interviews and photoshoots. It was safe to say you were on the last of your nerves, having battled your way through a makeup artist who had insisted on pointing out your flaws and had used a shit ton of makeup to cover them up. You had battled a photographer who had not hesitated to tell you that if you didn't look more feminine people would think you were turning into a man.

Before you could retaliate, Paul had dragged him away and told management to cancel the photoshoot, and find another photographer before grabbing the six of you some sandwiches and had let you all go back for a quick power nap at the hotel. Then in about half an hour he had woken you up, to get you ready for another interview. That's how you were here, in a white jumpsuit and a black blazer jacket, paired with black heels. Another day, another interviewer that got on your nerves. But this one, this one was different. This interviewer was different, but also the same. Another misogynistic man who thought he was entitled to stare at your ass and cleavage, and eye fuck you as you settled into a seat in between Niall and Zayn.

Settling in, you crossed one knee over the other, plastering a fake smile onto your face, as the man leaned back in his chair, throwing you a sleazy smirk. Noticing the look, Zayn shifted so you were out of view of the interviewer, but in view of the audience. It was in moments like this that you were a 100× more grateful to have your boys. They were well aware of how sleazy some interviewers could be, having had plenty of experience with them, and Zayn and Louis in particular were very protective about the way you were treated. Squeezing your thigh softly, he leaned back a little, lips settling into a thin line as he looked at the interviewer with a cold look. A little behind, Louis threw the interviewer a dirty look.

"So, One Direction! Congratulations on the album, as you all know its out on November the 22nd, with eighteen new songs, including the singles Night Changes and Steal My Girl Speaking of stealing girls, do you think I could steal your number Y/N? And may I mention, you look ver, very hot in that outfit" The interviewer joked, throwing you what he thought was a sexy smirk. (P.S - it wasn't) Answering with an awkward laugh, you shook your head, as Niall tensed up beside you. "Aww come on, your'e a pretty girl, I'm a handsome guy, let's go out sometime" he pressed on, ignoring the growing anger in Harry's eyes. "That's umm, nice. But no thanks, I'm not going to go out with you" was your answer, as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Picking up on your nervous tic, Zayn moved his hand to rest on your knee, stopping it from bouncing up and down.

"Aww come on baby, what is it? You like girls or something? Because I wouldn't mind being a part of that action either" the sleazebag chuckled, ignoring the disgusted look Liam sent his way. "That's rude" Liam said, while Zayn tightened his grip on your knee. "Oh come on lads, are you telling me the idea doesn't appeal to you? Two women together, mm, makes me all excited just thinking about it, especially if one of them's Y/N" That comment was all it took for Louis to stand up, turning to the man and saying in a voice much rougher than his usual voice, "Alright, that's fuckin' enough, what the fuck is actually wrong with you?" he was backed up by Liam, who stood up, going to tower over the interviewer, whose eyes had lost some of the sleazy look in them. "All you've done since we walked in here is make those disgusting comments about Y/N, and it's sickening. Have some fucking respect" he practically spat.

Behind him, Zayn took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet, noticing the slight glossiness in them, leading you back to the dressing rooms, while Niall, Liam, Louis and Harry stayed back to continue to snap at the interviewer. "That is no way to treat a woman, and not only are you disrespecting her, you also made those god awful events about seeing women together. Your'e a shame to every single person in this room by talking like that" Harry continued, glancing over his shoulder to check if you were okay.

"And no, it doesn't excite us, because we are not assholes, and you are, a disgusting sleaze who does not deserve the job he has. Fuckin loser" Niall chimed in, standing up and storming out. Louis stood up as well, turning to directly face the cameras and the cameramen and sound technicians, who had all looked shocked when the man had made his comments towards you. "I sure as hell hope you have that on record, so you can see just how fucking sexist this industry is to women. Y/N does the same job as us, works just as hard and has the same number of awards, nominations, and records and yet you decide to only focus on her body, clothes, love life and sexuality. Get a fucking life" he spat at the camera, before walking away himself, eventually followed by Harry and Liam, who apologized to the outraged fans before leaving themselves. As they made their way to the dressing rooms they could hear the audience telling the interviewer to apologize to you, their anger at the way you were treated echoing through the building.

Walking in, Harry caught sigh of you curled up in one of the armchairs, with Louis sitting beside you, while Niall and Zayn talked to a furious Paul. "He had no damn right to treat her like shite, and you need to make sure that he knows those comments were un-fuckin-acceptable" Niall was saying, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "And to make those sickening comments about wanting to get action? Can't we sue him for something?" Was Zayn's reply, glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were still okay. "We can't sue him, atleast I don't think we can, but I'll have someone let the smug bastard know that he needs to learn how to respect a woman" Paul said, before leaving the room to give the six of you some time together before you had to head back to the hotel.

"How're you feeling darling?" Louis said, moving over and patting your knee so you moved. "I'm okay" you mumbled back, letting Louis settle in next to you, leaning back to rest on his chest. "He had no fuckin right to say any of that, and don't you let it trouble you for a second" Zayn added, pouring out a cup of tea for you and for Louis and Harry. "I don't care about what he said, I couldn't care less, but it was just so frustrating, sitting there and listening to him just sexualize a whole community of people. You've got to be in a really sad place to think of shit like that. That's what annoyed me. You think I give a damn about what he said about my clothes or wanting to take me out on a date? It was the way he was talking, like he was sure any woman would be glad to have him that irked me. He's really tiresome" was your reply, as you reached forward for a sip of your tea. "That's the right attitude love. Haters gonna hate" Harry said.

"I know that. But I just wish I could punch him once, which sounds mean, but he does kind of deserve it" Niall said, earning a laugh from you. Niall was never usually aggressive, and even now, he wasn't particularly rude but it was rare to see him wanting to punch someone. "It's okay Niall, you don't have to. I can do it myself, but I won't" you replied, leaning up to squeeze his hand. "Besides, Ni, if you went and punched him, I'd do it too, and then we'd all go to jail" Liam chimed in, scrolling through his twitter. "Twitter isn't happy either babe. #stopsexualization and #Y/Ndeservesbetter is trending already" he added, showing you his phone. "If it means some of these sexist asses get their heads out of the sand, I'm happy. But I dont want to to think about it now" you replied, cuddling closer to the warmth radiating from Louis's body.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked, standing up and walking to the door "No I want to go to Nando's. Anybody else hungry?" You asked, to nods of assent from the boys. "I'm starving. Those stupid sandwiches didn't fill me up at all" Zayn said, standing up to grab his coat and wallet. "I know and I'm craving some hot Peri Peri chicken with some fries. Do you think they'd let me put the lemon and herb sauce on the fries?" You asked, standing up yourself, earning a laugh from Louis. "Your'e an international superstar babe, I think they'd give you some lemon herb sauce" Liam joked.

Laughing, the six of you made your way to the car, with Harry and Niall squishing you in between them, as Louis sat in the back with Liam, and Zayn sat in the front with Paul (he was driving thank GOD) "I'm proud of you darling" Harry chimed in suddenly. "I am too" Niall added. "You know I am" Louis said, before Liam added "Always babe" and Zayn turned to smile at you before adding, "We are all proud of you, and we always will be, not only because you do a damn good job of not listening to the haters, but because you do what you think is right" "Awh come on, your'e gonna make me cry" you mumbled, leaning into Niall's shoulder. "Almost makes me feel bad for teasing you about having an extremely low spice tolerance the last time we were at Nando's Haz" you smirked, earning a roar of laughter from the boys.

"That chicken was spicy love!" "It was lemon and herb with no peri peri!" "And it was spicy!"

And just like that, you were back to messing around with each other. Sleazy interviewers would come and go, but your boys were always there to support you. Always.

-------

A/N - Thanks for reading ! I'd also like to apologize on the behalf of this fictitious interviewer I made up, I felt so bad while writing some of this 😭 anyways, I hope this is what you wanted! Enjoy !

Tags - @zaynkissbot @gucci-hazza @bxtchboy69

[majestyeverlasting]

Hi!! Could you write for Bucky prompts 4 and 26??

♡ Hi, Anon!! I love this prompt pairing so much! Thank you for requesting this, and for waiting on me to get around to it! In this one, Bucky and the reader visit a park in Brooklyn that stirs up some nostalgic memories. But what he doesn't know is that, later that night, he'll learn that he's going to be a father. There's some pretty fall imagery and lots of sweet moments. I hope you like it! (Note: this isn’t canon regarding Bucky’s true age)

♡ Prompt 4: "Remember we used to come here when we were kids?"

♡ Prompt 26: “I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I? You’re really pregnant?”

All I Ever Wanted

There was a crispness to the evening air as the beginnings of fall settled within Brooklyn. The trees of Prospect Park, once green, were slowly transitioning into rich shades of orange and red. As you and Bucky walked along one of the pathways, leaves crunching beneath your shoes, there was an absence of car engines and horns—it was peaceful. All there was to be heard was chirping birds, the soft chatter of other park-goers, and the occasional whir of a cyclist’s wheels whenever one passed by.

Upon reaching a wooden bridge, the gentle sound of flowing water emerged as well. Beneath it, was a slender waterfall that fed into a small pond with dead leaves floating on the surface. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired it from over the railing. Somehow the whole day, including that moment itself, had managed to feel like a dream.

The two of you hadn’t been to Prospect Park in what felt like forever. Life had a way of sweeping you up in winds of responsibility that kept you from enjoying moments of stillness. But those winds had since drifted elsewhere, leaving the two of you with the freedom to simply be. Venturing out into nature and away from the noise had been Bucky’s suggestion earlier that morning. There was no place like the outdoors that was capable of soothing the soul.

“Look, doll,” he said eventually. Your eyes followed where his free hand pointed.

On one of the big rocks peeking out of the water below, a yellow butterfly had perched itself on a rock. “Yeah, I see it. It’s so pretty.” You smiled when he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“You know what butterflies symbolize?” You met his gaze, willing for him to continue. “Life and new beginnings,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a fraction of a second, you froze. You’d managed to keep yourself collected for the entirety of the day, but hearing those words quickened your heartbeat. Enough so that you became all the more reminded of what he didn’t know—not yet.

That morning, as he spoke to you through the bathroom door about going to Prospect Park, you’d been staring at a positive pregnancy test. You barely had enough breath to agree to the outing. And when he’d asked if you were okay, you told him you were fine, but left out the fact that your lives would be changing forever in the months to come.

The two lines on the stick explained weeks worth of your body trying to communicate to you. It explained that deep sense of knowing that refused to go away. To say that you wanted to merely tell Bucky would’ve been the largest understatement of your lifetime. With all the emotions that stirred within you, you wanted to scream, cry, and jump at the same time.

A voice within you encouraged you to make the moment you told Bucky really special and intimate. Especially considering every turn that his life had taken over the years. So you vowed to wait until the two of you arrived home from your evening at the park.

“Life and new beginnings,” you repeated. You were already aware that such was associated with butterflies, but hearing him say it in that moment carried a certain magnitude. “I love the sound of that.”

Later, after walking further, you found yourselves nestled on one of the benches overlooking the lake. The water sparkled in the warm light of the sun as it prepared to set. A couple men stood peppered along the bank fishing. Children giggled as they chased after each other. Paired with the fall trees and colors all around, it was nothing short of a beautiful scene.

You let your head rest on Bucky’s shoulder, and took his real hand in yours to play with his fingers. There was a time, years ago, when the two of you would play along that same lake—throughout the whole park, actually.

You were the first to speak after a while, “Remember we used to come here when we were kids?” You straightened up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Of course I do,” he said, a smile starting on his face. “Especially during the summer. We’d always try to find open fire hydrants to play in after we left. And if we were lucky, our mom’s would let us get ice cream or shaved ice,” he recounted, chuckling. “Those were the days.”

You shook your head. “I know. Now look at us.” About to have a child of our own, you thought.

“Yup. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, casting out a brief look around at the serenic evening. Then he focused back on you, his tone shifting, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” you tried not to answer too fast. “Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes a bit and gave a shrug. “I don’t know, I can just tell that something’s on your mind—ever since this morning,” he noted. “But you have yet to tell me what that something is, pretty girl.”

It took everything not to tell him right then and there, as you sat under a blue and orange sky in the park you knew like the back of your hand.

You offered him half a smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Not necessarily. I’ve been reading you for a long time so it’s easy.” You allowed yourself to chuckle when he playfully quirked his brows. “So am I gonna have to work really hard to coax it out of you?”

You shook your head earnestly. “I promise I'll tell you when we get home… I have something to show you.”

On your way out of the park, there was a mama duck waddling under a tree with her ducklings trailing behind her.

It wasn’t until after you and Bucky made it back to your apartment, and had changed into something comfortable, that you told him you were ready. He sat on the edge of the bed as you went to retrieve the small gift box holding the pregnancy test. It was a miracle that you had had enough supplies left over from birthdays and holidays to be able to make it look as presentable as it did.

You extended it to him from a couple feet away. So much anticipation had built within you that you felt light, and as though you were buzzing.

Bucky accepted the box, and looked up at you. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Why are you standing a mile away from me? C’mere.” You inched closer, and laughed when he pulled you to stand more so between his spread legs.

As he began to undo the white ribbon on the box, your lower lip was secured between your teeth. It seemed as though he was moving entirely too slow and fast at the same time.

As soon as he popped the lid off to reveal the pregnancy test sitting on top of little strips of crinkled, beige paper strips, your heartbeat sped up. Bucky’s attention lingered on the test. When he finally looked up, his gaze attested to the influx of thoughts that had been sparked into motion within his mind.

“I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I?” He briefly looked back down to stick again. Two lines. “You’re really pregnant?”

A smile broke across your face. With the news out, it felt as though you were uncaging a group of birds that had been longing for freedom for way too long. Before you could say anything else, Bucky set the box aside and stood to press his lips to yours. You stumbled back at the intentness in which he gripped your waist. It was a kiss that you felt every part of him through; his love, his passion, his warmth. And an intoxicating mix of joy and expectation.

He pulled away just enough to speak. “We’re gonna be parents?” His breath fanned over your lips. Then he leaned back in to kiss you once more, a soft peck. “You’re carrying our child?”

Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt, and the feeling of palms against your skin was pleasant in the best way. One was cooler than the other, but they were both gentle and reverent.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I found out this morning.”

He scratched gently at your stomach, sending a shiver through you. “You managed to keep it to yourself the whole day. That’s what was on your mind?” He kissed you again.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted to tell you. No idea.” You brought your hands up to his cheeks, the budding stubble scratchy against your palms. “But I wanted to wait until we came back from Prospect.”

Bucky released a breath after a few beats of silence. “I don’t even know what to say,” he said, voice low. “This is so crazy—a good crazy.”

“I know. I’m happy and terrified at the same time,” you admitted. “I’ve never felt this way in my entire life, but it feels….”

“Good,” he finished.

A laugh escaped you. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, he was getting down onto his knees to be level with your stomach. It wasn’t until he lifted your shirt to press a kiss to your stomach that the reality of the moment set in. For the first time since learning about your pregnancy, tears slipped down your cheeks.

Bucky heard you sniffle, and stood back up to take your hands in his. “This is all I ever wanted, you know that, doll?” A few tears had come to the waterline of his eyes. “A beautiful wife, a family. This is all something I thought I’d never have.”

You sniffled again, nodding. “You deserve everything,” you murmured.

“I have my everything right in front of me.”

Without waiting another moment, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him tighter than you had in a while. Parents. The two of you were going to be parents.

-

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, if you'd like. For more fluffy Bucky Barnes fics, click here.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 31: Veritaserum

186 days.

That's how long Draco had been held in the Department of Mysteries, trapped in a cell that barely left him enough room to lie down except when they came to take him out and interrogate him.

Draco'd relived the horrors of the past two years, over and over through their invasive questioning, through their digging around in his mind, through the imperious curse, and most recently through a stint of days spent with veritaserum flowing through his veins.

He heard their footsteps coming down the hallway, their voices recapping what they'd learned so far. Day 6 of veritaserum. He used his nail to scratch another line in the wall next to his thin mattress.

187 days.

Then he heard a third voice, a voice he would have recognized anywhere. "Veritaserum?" Potter asked, sounding incredulous for some reason. "But that's illegal."

"Auror Potter, I'll remind you that you're out of your jurisdiction here. You have no say in what happens or the means used to collect intelligence that is invaluable when it comes to protecting future generations."

"And," the man, whose breath always smelled stale and turned Draco's stomach, added, "There are no 'laws' during wartime when we need to catch criminals."

"The war is over," Potter replied, voice sharp and something in the pit of Draco's stomach thrilled at that.

"Out of your jurisdiction," the woman reminded.

A moment later, there was a sharp rap of a wand against the metal bar of his cell and the man called, "Let's go, Malfoy."

He stood, moving toward the door with his head down, and that was when he felt it; the crackle of Potter's magic around him like static electricity.

Draco couldn't resist looking up at that, meeting Potter's eyes. The green was blazing, he's furious and Draco wondered what (or whom) that fury was directed at. His fists were clenched at his sides, shoulders stiff.

Even with all of the obvious tension, Potter looked good, Draco thought; healthy, strong, handsome, like he had the entire world at his feet. Which, to be fair, he probably did. He wondered what Potter saw when he looked at him.

(Read more below the cut)

"Move," the woman snapped and Draco dropped his gaze from Potter, his thoughts weren't his own, not really. He couldn't afford to allow even more trouble in his mind.

He staggered down the hall, his legs feeling like they were made out of jelly, and flinched when the door to the white room opened and bright, sterile light spilled out over him. Draco made his way in and sat down in the same chair he always sat it, the shackles immediately chaining his wrists and ankles down. He fought the inevitable wave of panic as the woman walked over.

"Drink," she instructed, holding a vial to his lips.

He clenched his hands but did as he was told because it only made things worse when he didn't comply. The veritaserum flooded his mind, making his mouth feel loose and his mind feel unpleasantly open.

"Last time we talked about the treatment of muggles and muggleborns in your home under He-who-must-not-be-named, do you remember?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Today we'd like to hear about your complicity," the woman said. "We want to hear about everything that you did and that other people did to people who opposed you."

"What was it like to live in your home with He-who-must-not-be-named?"

"Horrible," Draco answered honestly, trying to keep the thoughts and memories at bay as long as he could. "I lived like a prisoner."

"The truth!" the man demanded, even though Draco couldn't have lied if he wanted to. He drew his hand back, preparing to strike Draco and Draco closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact.

Then there was a surge of magic so strong that it made Draco breathless. He waited for the inevitable pain but there was nothing and when he opened his eyes it was to see that both of the unspeakables had collapsed forward onto the table and Potter was standing in front of him.

"Malfoy," he said and the tone of his voice made it seem like it wasn't the first time he'd said it. "Come on," he urged. "We don't have much time."

He reached out and Draco took his hand uncertainly. This couldn't be real, could it?

"Malfoy," Potter pleaded, "Please, we have to go."

Draco staggered to his feet and followed the other man down a winding set of hallways, through moving doors, and all manner of strange things before they reached a passage that wasn't dark and vaguely terrifying.

"Here," Potter said, handing him a vial. "It's polyjuice potion. You're going to look like unspeakable Harrison. Once you look like him, we're just going to walk straight out, do your best to look calm. As soon as we're outside I'm going to apparate us."

"Potter," he finally managed, "Why are you doing this?"

Potter looked at him then, really looked at him, "Can we talk about this later?" he asked. "I swear I'm not trying to trick you," he added. "Please. Just let me help you."

At this point, what did Draco have to lose? What could be worse than this? He took the potion from Potter's hand and quickly swallowed it down, trying not to gag at the unpleasant taste as his body shifted and changed.

"Keep your head down," Potter said, "Don't answer any questions. You'll still have the veritaserum in your bloodstream."

Draco nodded and Potter opened the door, it was like he morphed into a completely different person. He smiled jovially as he strode across the foyer, waving and greeting people every step of the way. Every eye in the room was on Potter and it made Draco's skin crawl to have attention focused so near to him.

It felt like an eternity but it couldn't have been more than 45 seconds before they were out of the door and Potter was offering him his elbow, "Harry Potter lives at Number 12 Grimmauld Place," he murmured.

And before Draco could ask what the bloody hell he was talking about, Potter was apparating the two of them away. They landed in the Black Ancestral Home and Draco was shocked. And confused.

So confused.

"Hold on," Potter said. "We're not out of the woods yet. Too many people know about this place." He picked up a copy of a book called Treasure Island off the side table. "Portkey," he explained quickly, "Hold on." And then as almost an after thought, he added, "Harry Potter lives at 4 Oceanview Lane."

Draco took the other side of the book and felt the hook and tug behind his belly button as they were moved through time and space.

This time when they landed, it was in soft, soft sand, and Draco staggered, trying to catch his balance. Potter clasped his elbow to steady him, "Alright?" he asked softly.

Draco nodded, "Yes," he found himself compelled to add, the Veritaserum still hadn't quite faded from his veins.

"Come on," Potter said, giving him a gentle tug toward a little cottage just up the beach.

It was a lovely little house, lots of windows and glass doors overlooking the ocean. The walls were painted in cool beiges and light blues and white curtains fluttered in the breeze.

"Are you hungry?" Potter called over his shoulder after he kicked off his shoes and headed deeper into the house.

"Starving," Draco replied and Potter turned to look at him, frowning.

"When is the last time you ate?"

He shook his head, "I don't know. Time passed funny in there. I tried to keep track," he said, "but I don't really know."

Potter's frown deepened, "Come on. Let me show you your room," he said. "I picked up some clothes for you but we'll have to go shopping later so you an pick out what you like."

"Potter," he said as he followed the other man toward the back of the house, "I don't understand."

"You're free, Draco," the other man said. "Well, not entirely because they'll be looking for you. But you're safe here, safe with me. I won't let them find you and I won't let them take you back," he added with a firm nod.

"Potter," he called again, "This doesn't even make sense."

"Please," Potter said, as though he was well aware of how little sense this all made. "I just," his shoulders slumped a bit, "I found out they were keeping you locked up in there like," he shook his head, "Like some-"

"Criminal?" Draco offered.

"Worse," Potter said, shaking his head. "And it was wrong and no one would listen to me. So this is the best I can do," he said, gesturing at the cottage around him. "A little house in the Seychelles. No one even knows this place exists except for Ron and Hermione," he added.

"i don't understand," Draco said, leaning against the wall to support himself.

"I know," Potter said, "Just. Can you trust me for now? We can talk about it more when you're not so exhausted. Come in," he added, gesturing to the room.

Draco stepped through the door to a room with hardwood floors and white walls, with a sliding glass door that lead out into the sand and the ocean beyond. The bed was covered in soft white bedding and a door at the side of the room led to a bathroom with a proper bathtub and a shower.

He was dreaming, he had to be.

"There are some things in the drawers over there for you to wear," Potter said, sounding a touch anxious. "We'll find you things you like better whenever you're ready."

He stepped over and reached out a hand to touch the bed but pulled up short when he caught sight of his filthy hands. "This is for me?" he asked, looking over at Potter.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "There's a second room across the hall that I'm in, if you'd rather have that one, but I thought you might like to be able to see the ocean."

"I don't know what to say," he said.

"Say you'll stay," Potter asked. "At least until we can get your name cleared."

"I don't think that's ever going to happen."

Potter sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Maybe, but can we just cross that bridge when we get there?" he asked.

"Okay," Draco said because this was all so strange, everything felt surreal, but Potter seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at his acquiescence.

"I'll go make us some lunch," he said quickly. "Do you want to freshen up first?"

Draco nodded, "If that's okay?"

"Yeah," Potter said, nodding, "Yeah. Anything you want." He gave Draco a little smile, "Towels are in the cupboard on the left when you go into the bathroom; there's soap, shampoo, conditioner, and the like in the shower," he added. "I'll be in the kitchen. Just shout if you need anything."

Draco watched him go, still very confused. But for the first time in a very long time, just a little bit hopeful.

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

Part 2 to this story is up! Read it here.

Part 3 is up! You can read it here.

Read Part 4 here!

Part 5

Day 30: Likeness | Day 32: After Wedding Fluff

Ahh! Nonnie. I did not anticipate loving this prompt so much. I could hardly bring myself to stop writing. Thanks so much for this prompt.

If y'all want more of this story, please drop me an ask or leave a comment. I'd definitely be up for writing more if people want to read it. :)

[kieraelieson]

No Rest for the Deathworlders

Logan had always loved the stars.

Still did, though his love had been dampened by the way in which he was currently seeing them.

He watched out the window, or rather, screen, but it was made to show the outside of the ship, and thinking of it as a window was oddly comforting. A bit of something close to home.

A lump grew in his throat at the thought of home, pressing against the collar. He forced himself back to a neutral, tugging the collar away from the front of his throat as far as it would go. A brief flicker of anger replaced the nostalgia. Anger at the collar, at his own inability to remove it, at the monsters that had forced it onto him, at his own complacency now that it was on.

He didn’t have it as bad as some other humans did, he was well aware. All the collar did was teleport him to the location of the person holding the remote. Granted, it was unpleasant and incredibly disorienting, but nothing like the near-torture he’d heard was the more common method of keeping humans captive.

The captain of the ship was smart in choosing Logan, as far as the welfare of the ship went.

“You’re invested in your own survival,” He’d said through the translators. “If the ship goes down, you’ll go with it. If you sabotage the ship and try to escape on a pod, I can get you back to me immediately, and you’ll meet the same fate as you intended for us. It’s in your best interests to cooperate and to bond with the crew.”

Well, Logan could agree that it was in his best interests to cooperate. But no one could make him get attached to anyone. And no one could stop him from making little problems.

Like ignoring the insistent, “Human, where are you? Human!” that was coming from his communicator.

The window dissolved in front of him, and Logan felt abruptly as if he were on the world’s worst rollercoaster for several seconds. It took him a minute to register the angry captain now in front of him. He was yelling something, but not through the communicator, so Logan couldn’t understand what. And he was far too dizzy and almost nauseous to pay attention even if it was understandable.

He shook his head slowly from side to side and up and down once, hoping to clear the vertigo somewhat.

“You must come when called!” The communicator translated. “Or at least answer!”

Logan stubbornly remained silent, the dizziness gradually clearing.

For an alien that looked more like a slime monster than anything with a real face, the captain still managed to look extremely displeased. Not that Logan cared.

“There are ------ trailing our ship,” the captain said, one of his words not translating properly. “We need to go faster or we’ll get boarded.”

Ok, maybe Logan did care.

“Humans are supposed to be good at making ships go faster, fix it.”

Logan frowned. “I’ve been here three days,” he said into the communicator. “I hardly know how anything in the ship works, much less how to improve any of its functions!”

“I’ve studied humans, I know better than that, fix it.” The captain said shortly.

Logan opened his mouth to protest, but the room around him dissolved, the horrible spinning sensation back. His legs gave out and he dropped onto the floor in a different place.

He swallowed hard, his stomach threatening to upend itself.

“And they call you deathworlders,” someone scoffed. “A transporter has you on your knees.”

Beyond his sick feelings, and the anger at being mocked, he caught onto that plural reference. Was there another human on the ship?

In addition, there were apparently multiple remotes to the teleporter around his throat, which ruined his plan of trying to steal or fight the captain for the one.

He slowly sat up, his head still spinning. He hoped that his body would eventually grow accustomed to the teleportation and the dizziness would stop being so awful.

There was a chittering sound beside him that the translator didn’t attempt to process. He turned to see an alien that would likely be very tall if it wasn’t on all fours. It was very thin, with long arms and legs, which ended in smooth nubs, without hands or feet. The front two, which Logan thought of as arms, though the alien probably would have a different name for them, seemed to be perforated along the last six inches. As Logan watched, one of them was extended towards him slowly, and something softer could be seen on the inside. It was able to be extruded through the holes, and was likely the way in which the alien could grasp things.

He backed away from the limb before it could touch him, and the alien also backed away a step, making a low woody sounding whistle, like air blown over a jug. It’s head looked rather moth-like, with antenna that curled and straightened, and large eyes.

The alien seemed sentient, though Logan was confused that the translator wasn’t picking up on its speech.

Until he saw a very familiar collar, only around their waist. They were also captive then. And possibly, though it disappointed his hopes of meeting another human, they were the other deathworlder, also affected poorly by the teleportation.

The strange attempted touch then, could have potentially been intended as comfort or aid.

“You’ve been sitting long enough, get this ship to move faster,” the other alien in the room grumbled.

Logan glared. “How am I even supposed to do that?” He snapped. “I don’t have training or experience, I don’t know what half this stuff is and I can’t read your labels!”

“You can either fix it now, or we can teleport you between here and the captain until you do.” The alien's tone was disgusting and wet, and Logan was glad he could focus on the robot sound of the translator as his stomach lurched again.

He could try.

If nothing else, he might learn some new things and be able to convince them that he really wasn’t able to just do things he’d never tried before.

The room was smaller than he would’ve expected, presuming he was in a kind of engine room. Around the edges of the room were a number of bins, holding substances ranging from powders to liquids.

In the center of the room was a glass tube that went from floor to ceiling, and seemed to be filled with a glowing crystal stalagmite. From the top of the tube dripped some kind of liquid, and at the bottom it flowed out in small pipes, glowing the same as the crystal and possibly converted into fuel.

He could assume that with all of the powders and liquids that there was a chemical reaction causing the substance to obtain the glowing quality and become fuel. But what that was, and how to know what was safe to change about it, he had no idea.

“Well?” The alien, whom he now assumed to be what served as the ship’s engineer, asked.

He was making so many assumptions, and still was barely anywhere. They could all be wrong.

“Explain to me how it works,” Logan said. “Then I’ll try to ‘fix’ it.”

The alien made an unpleasant sound that the translator interpreted as a sigh. “This is a ——-, the liquid is a mixture of ——, ——, ——-, and ——, but it could be made with any of the ——— family instead of the ———, or you could replace the ———- with ——— for better efficiency at different energy levels. We also have several forms of ———-, which ought to make more potent fuel for higher speeds, but every time we’ve tried the ———- smokes and explodes and there’s residue in the tubing for several rotations which puts us at a standstill.”

Logan grimaced. He had a very small idea of what was being said based on gestures, but he’d much prefer to have names and details. It seemed this was a very large and dangerous version of chemistry experiments, with no textbook, and his only advice coming from someone who hadn’t studied.

Well, there was the other ‘deathworlder’ in the room. He could only hope they knew something about any of this. Though the difficulty in communication might make that knowledge impossible to access.

He turned towards them anyway. “Can you understand me at all?”

They made another low whistling sound, followed by chittering. One arm waved, with… could he call them fingers? gesturing towards Logan.

He hoped desperately that he could consider that to be a yes.

“What would you do in—“

The engineer’s communicator interrupted him. “We thought we’d have a few more rotations but they’re closing in, has the human done anything yet?”

“No,” the engineer said. “It’s just staring at everything.”

“Well get it to hurry!”

The other ‘deathworlder’ made a long series of noises, pointing at one bin in particular and then at a place where it seemed the not-yet-fuel liquid was.

It was a foolish thing. A very foolish thing. But Logan took a scoop from the bin and dumped the powder into the liquid.

It bubbled and fizzed on contact, sending up thick clouds of a dark blue smoke.

An alarm blared.

The ship lurched, knocking them all to the ground.

And then the new ingredient actually hit the crystal, and there was a loud, high pitched ringing.

Logan covered his ears and shut his eyes, feeling like a weight was pressing him to the floor.

Everything was spinning, and loud, and then it was loud in a very different, but no less painful way.

“Protect me!” The captain shrieked.

There was a pained, screeching scream.

Logan was shoved, but he was barely aware of which direction, let alone what he was supposed to do about any of it.

Something grabbed onto his shoulders, and he flailed, hitting and kicking indiscriminately. Something burned on his side, and he kicked into something much more solid, sending a throbbing pain up his leg.

Everything was noise and pain and lights and movement and he didn’t understand any of it!

Logan struck out blindly at anything that came near him.

He thought he’d backed into a wall, but something must’ve been behind him, and it hit him hard over the head. He dropped to the floor, tears swimming in his eyes and blurring everything even further.

Everything dissolved around him and he was falling, spinning, dropping, tossed.

He was grateful more than anything when unconsciousness took him.

•^*^••

He woke slowly, feeling hazy and heavy. It was quiet, and not too bright, nothing was touching him. So he didn’t bother to open his eyes, just laying still.

He wasn’t dead at least.

Probably the pirates had attacked. Definitely he’d ruined the ship he’d been on.

The question was, was being with pirates any better than living on a ruined ship with aliens that considered him to be some kind of hyper-intelligent slave?

Or perhaps the question was, where was he now?

He forced his eyes open.

He was in a relatively large, empty room. The floor and walls seemed bare, though patched, not all of a single material.

He pushed himself up. There was a loud skittering noise away from him, and he yelped, flinging himself away clumsily.

He turned, and saw the other deathworlder, front legs shaking and making a rattling noise. He wasn’t sure if it was a fear response, a method of communication, or even some kind of threat display.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, backing up a little farther.

The other alien didn’t try to come close again, so he figured it was mostly likely not interested in threatening him. There wasn’t an echo of his words in an alien language though, and he patted his shoulder to discover that the translator had been taken. His hand went to his throat, disappointed to find that they’d left the collar.

It was still there on the other alien also. They were both still prisoners then, wherever they were.

Looking around, it seemed that they were in an empty cargo space, rather than a proper holding cell, so there was a slightly greater possibility of escape.

There was that low whistling sound again. Logan was certain it was meant as a form of communication.

He tried whistling back, as low as he was capable of.

The alien chittered and shook its legs again, but Logan couldn’t tell even if it was a positive or negative reaction.

“I… don’t know how to talk with you,” he said, keeping his tone low and calm. He sat in a comfortable, loose position, hoping to get across the calm in his tone and posture. “But I’d like to try. I’m not sure what anything you’re doing means, and it’s possible you’re in the same situation. I’m hoping that you have more knowledge of humans than I do of your kind, and that you’ll be able to make better inferences than I’m currently capable of.”

The alien cocked its head to the side, watching him as he spoke. It took a tentative step forward on its spindly legs, and then propped itself on three, holding the fourth out to him.

Logan eyed the appendage. The softer inside substance was filling the holes, making it appear to have small bumps, rather than holes. He held out a hand to it, but didn’t try to touch.

The alien bumped the end of its leg into Logan’s palm.

That seemed… good? Perhaps this was a greeting similar to a handshake?

Logan very gently grasped the end of the appendage, the softer inside substance feeling cool to the touch, and almost like a stiff putty, whereas the harder outer shell felt very smooth and rigid, similar to metal, but light.

The alien retracted their arm, and then looked between their arm and his hand. The inner substance reformed, pressing out from several holes into a clear attempt at fingers. It seemed to be fully controlled by the alien, and moveable, albeit much more slowly than Logan could move his own fingers.

“That’s very impressive,” Logan said.

The alien chittered back at him.

Perhaps they could get somewhere through a kind of charades.

•^*^••

“I think that’s all we can carry,” Roman said, looking over the wreckage.

“We can hold more, we aren’t full yet,” Remus protested, still sad that some of the ship’s inhabitants had taken the escape pods. Aside from the power crystal, which was far too unstable to take, they were the best value on the little ship.

“The whole 3rd cargo bay is empty for the two deathworlders, we’re full.” Roman insisted.

“Oh. Forgot about them. Well, if we can hold ‘em, they might be enough to make it worth it.”

“If we can refill,” Roman grumbled. “I was expecting usable power from this ship.”

It had really been a not-very-great raid. They’d lost Aide, and Bill, and Rahgezis, and hadn’t even gotten much of anything good out of it.

And the deathworlders were far too grumpy to join the crew. If they’d had enough room they would’ve separated them, but he just took away the translators and hoped they weren’t already pack-bonded, and wouldn’t become so. Two single deathworlders were bad enough, two together? Their ship would be a wreck from the inside out.

They needed to give them a rotation or two to calm down, try and have a talk, and then drop them off at the nearest Embassy and get away before bad things happened.

Maybe the Embassy would even pay them for handing over deathworlders. Or maybe they’d arrest them for being pirates.

But without Rahgezis, Remus didn’t want to attempt anything on the black market with such a high demand as deathworlders.

And the teleportation bands should make it a little easier on them. They were super old, and no one in their right mind would use them, except as a practical joke, or a way of keeping enemies too off balance to attack. The ones on the two of them had been fused closed, rather than the usual buckle, so he felt more safe trying to hold the deathworlders than he would otherwise.

They’d only found one remote, but Inshes was already working on making a second.

“I’m going to see if the Scraascik is on any registries,” Roman said. “And I’ll check for the Human, but that’s less likely.”

Remus nodded. “I’ll handle getting us moving again. If they’re awake, maybe you could see about dropping some food into the cargo bay.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” Roman sighed.

Remus set a claw on Roman’s back. Roman grumbled, leaning into Remus’s side, and then went off to do his research.

It’d been a hard day for both of them.

•^*^••

They’d managed to exchange names… sort of. The alien’s name was two notes, whistled lower than Logan was capable of, and likewise there was no way of the alien being able to pronounce the word Logan.

But the alien made a deep, almost resonant sound, that was as close as it seemed they could get to anything involving vocal cords. And that was their version of Logan.

Logan considered the two note sound, and came up with a slightly similar-sounding name. Virgil.

Neither of their names for each other were really very similar to their actual names, but they were able to understand each other, and that was what mattered.

As it turned out, Virgil was stronger than he was at pushing things, or hitting, but they couldn’t pull with any strength.

Logan was focusing his attention on the door, and had been so far unsuccessful in prying it open. It was solidly locked, and the lock seemed to only be on the other side of the door. Which likely meant that this room was detachable from the rest of the ship, in case of emergency or danger.

“Virgil.” Logan said, and Virgil turned to look at him from the patch on the wall they’d been inspecting.

Logan hit the door with his palm, his arm straight, in an imitation of the way he’d seen Virgil hit some of the patches, trying to break them. “Hit here.” He pointed at Virgil, and then at a spot where he suspected the lock was.

Virgil made a chittering sound and shambled over.

Logan again mimicked the strike, and then pointed at Virgil.

Virgil got into position. They were able to balance on three legs and rock their whole body weight forward to strike that small point their arm hit with all their strength and weight together.

They tried three times, but the door held firm.

Logan was impressed that they did not seem hurt by the attempt. Their exoskeleton must be very strong indeed. Which was possibly a part of why they were considered a deathworlder.

Logan wondered what their home planet was like.

The door suddenly opened, an alien clearly holding up one of the remotes to the teleporters.

Virgil backed away, turning and running to the other end of the room.

The alien spoke into a small microphone, which translated. “I brought food. Don’t come near me.”

The alien’s body looked almost bear-like, but with longer legs, clearly bipedal. They were only about half the size of a bear though. The fur also was shorter and sparser, and a very reddish kind of brown. The hands looked more useful than a bear’s paws as well. The head though was very unlike a bear’s. Logan didn’t know what to compare it to.

The alien was wearing clothes, which Logan had learned was entirely optional to most aliens, in bright reds and goldish yellows.

Perhaps this meant that this particular alien was more… Logan hesitated to say civilized. He scarcely knew anything about aliens, and could hardly make such judgements about them. Still, he believed he had a bit more chance reasoning with this one.

“Let us out of here,” he said, grateful that the translator picked it up and interpreted it.

“No.”

“We will leave you alone, we will not harm the ship. Let us go,” Logan said calmly but firmly.

The alien again said no, pushing in a tray of what could be food into the room with their foot, already starting to close the door.

“Wait!” Logan said, stepping forward.

The alien jumped, and pushed the button on the remote.

It didn’t seem to affect Logan, but instead Virgil was teleported close to the door. Virgil stumbled, falling against the wall and letting out what could only be described as a scream.

The alien who had delivered food looked even more scared now, and quickly shut the door. Logan pushed through his shock and alarm to try to open the door before it could be locked, but he was too late.

Virgil slumped to the ground, scream fading to a whistling wheeze.

As bad as the teleportation felt to him, Logan was scared that Virgil was being injured by it. Perhaps on the inside, where they were softer. Or perhaps it put too much strain on their rigid exoskeleton.

Was there anything he could do? He didn’t have any idea about what Virgil could need for medical care, and he didn’t want an attempt at comfort to be construed as an attack, especially while Virgil was vulnerable.

He knelt close to Virgil, a bit farther than an arm's length.

“Virgil?”

Virgil’s eyes opened, and from this close Logan could see the differentiation between pupil and iris. Virgil’s eyes were moving back and forth, like Logan had seen before in children who’d been spun in circles. He was likely still extremely disoriented then.

Virgil lifted one arm and waved it around slowly. It knocked into Logan’s shoulder lightly, and Virgil kept tapping it against his shoulders and head. Logan allowed it without complaint, guessing that it was grounding to Virgil, being able to verify that Logan was in one place and not moving, not spinning.

Virgil gradually steadied, taking their arm back.

Logan wished he had a way to ask ‘are you ok?’, but he didn’t. The best he had was, “Virgil?”

The whistle-clack he got in return seemed more positive than negative, though he had no way of accurately judging alien tones.

“Logan.”

Logan nodded, as it seemed the correct response.

Virgil pointed towards the nearly-forgotten tray, and Logan went to get it. Virgil struggled to their feet, looking something like a very large baby deer first trying to stand. If Logan had to guess, Virgil’s kind didn’t frequently sit or lie down.

The tray had a number of small round roll-like things that Logan was now accustomed to seeing. They were similar to banana bread in texture, but the taste was salty and rather bitter. When he’d asked, he’d been told that they were the standard in rations as they kept for a long time, and held an array of nutrients that was sufficient for the basic needs of a majority of species.

He suspected that he would require some greens or fruit if he continued eating these primarily, but he hadn’t seen any anywhere, only these.

Virgil stood over him and leaned down as much as they seemed easily capable of, which still left their head several feet above the ground. Logan was just wondering if they would need assistance to eat when a very long tongue, or perhaps proboscis, unrolled from their mouth and curled around one of the rolls, pulling it up into their mouth.

“What do you eat natively?” Logan wondered aloud. “And do you need water?”

There was a pitcher of water and two small cups. Logan poured one cup full and held it out to Virgil.

Virgil seemed to still be chewing, however, and incapable of drinking while doing so. Or perhaps they didn’t require water. Though, now that Logan was watching, he didn’t believe they were chewing at all. Certainly there was no jaw movement. They could be massaging the food with their tongue, and have particularly effective saliva perhaps.

Logan started eating a roll, setting Virgil’s cup down and filling the other for himself.

A minute later Virgil’s tongue unrolled again and drained the cup, seemingly effective as a massive straw.

“You really are fascinating,” Logan said softly. “Were we not in such a situation I would love to learn more about you.”

Virgil responded with a series of clicks and whistles.

“As it is though, we probably ought to attempt an escape. They haven’t tried to get anything from us, which makes me think they intend on trafficking us further. Most likely they don’t have the power to force us into work like the last ship did, so I think, despite the danger, that this will be our best chance. Of course, the danger is greater for you, the teleportation seems to hurt you much more than it does me.” Logan thought for a while. “I think our best bet would be to try forcing our way out the door the next time it opens. Perhaps one of us could knock the remote away. It is enlightening to know that the remote only works on one of us at a time.”

Logan sighed. “Of course we don’t know when or if they’ll enter again. It’s possible we’ll be held here until we reach wherever we’re going.”

Virgil made a low, soft whistle.

Logan laid on his back. “I can’t even properly ask you for your partnership. It’s infuriating to not be able to succeed at anything I attempt. There’s such a wealth of knowledge that is necessary, and I have no idea of any of it. Nor a way of learning, save through painful experience. I can’t become complacent, I have to effect change, but I never know when my efforts will be simply overturned.”

Virgil nudged his arm with their own.

Logan turned to look at them. Virgil chittered at him, bobbing up and down on their legs.

“What is it?”

“Logan.” Virgil said, still bobbing up and down.

Logan sat up. “I don’t understand.”

Virgil tapped his legs with their arm. “Logan.”

Logan stood up. “Is this what you want? Oh. If you don’t lay down to sleep, you must’ve been concerned when I did. I’ll have to sleep sometime though, and surely you’ve been exposed to aliens that lay down to sleep.”

But rather than relaxing, as Logan would assume Virgil would do if they were concerned, Virgil stepped closer, almost over Logan. Their antenna tilted towards him.

“Oh I see, this would be how you would confirm that I’m healthy, by feeling with your antenna, yes?” Logan remained still, unsurprised when there was a soft touch on his head.

But he was not at all expecting the sudden mental image of himself tackling the alien who’d delivered the food. It was so vivid it was as if he was already doing it, seeing the door open, tackling the alien, smashing the remote, and running forward to climb onto Virgil’s back as Virgil ran them both through the hallway.

Logan jerked back, falling on his butt. “What was that?! You have telepathy??”

Virgil made a movement that could be best described as a shrug.

Logan stood up again, reaching his hand out, battling his speed from excitement in an attempt not to scare Virgil. “Can we do it again?”

Virgil brushed his hand with their antenna, and the same scene flashed before his mind’s eye.

“Yes, yes I’ll do that! Can you understand my answer?”

Virgil made a whistle that Logan was almost certain was affirmative.

Logan paced back and forth excitedly, thinking out loud. “So you can communicate with me even if I can’t communicate with you well. And you very much want my partnership in escaping. We have a plan now. And a form of communication. Virgil, this is amazing!”

Virgil made an almost trilling noise.

•^*^••

“No, it hurt the Scraascik,” Roman said, already changing the ship’s course. “We can’t hold them safely, we have to get to the Embassy.”

“We didn’t even ask them to join us yet!” Remus protested.

“Would you join a strange crew after they hurt you?” Roman retorted, sending a message to the engine room to increase speed.

“Well what about the other one?”

“Remus. It won’t work.” Roman glared at him. “I don’t want to take chances with deathworlders.”

Remus sighed. “Fine. But let me try talking to them before we get there.”

Roman’s face went hard. “You have until we arrive,” he finally conceded.

Remus hurried down to the cargo bay.

He burst the door open, and it slammed shut behind him. Both deathworlders jolted, staring at him.

He then realized that he’d entirely forgotten the remote and the duplicate, and also that he was locked in a room with two deathworlders.

Well, there was a reason people joked he was addicted to adrenaline.

“Hello!” He said, waving. “I’m wondering if you’ll join my crew.”

The human moved first, standing up to a height decently taller than Remus was. And the Scraascik was even larger.

Perhaps he really was in serious danger.

“We just want to leave,” the human said, sounding rather threatening.

Probably telling them about the plan to hand them over to the Embassy then wasn’t a good idea until he was sure that he wasn’t in attack distance anymore. “You can, leave with us. Join our crew and you can adventure with us, raid ships, explore planets!”

“We want to leave alone,” the human said firmly.

“We? So… you bonded then? I guess that rumor is true, deathworlders all really do bond super fast.”

The human bared its teeth at him. “I will not be bonding to your crew based on your desires. I will not remain here, I want to leave. We want to leave.”

The Scraascik agreed in some of the most heavily accented Common Remus had ever heard. No wonder the translators hadn’t picked up any of his yelling when they’d boarded the ship. He’d probably need a translator to touch his antenna, but good luck getting a Scraascik to let anything touch their antenna.

“So you won’t even consider it?” Remus asked, not yet daunted.

“You’ve essentially kidnapped us, and both can and have hurt us! Why would I consider it?”

Yikes, the human sounded angry.

“Well we didn’t mean to hurt you, really, it’s not meant to be that bad. And we only kidnapped you from other kidnappers, and also I can’t hurt you cause I forgot the remote.”

The two deathworlders looked at each other, and Remus knew he really had gone and shoved his whole fist in his mouth. The human shifted position to a much more threatening crouch, as if it was going to pounce on him.

Remus held his arms out, claws at the ready. He might not have a hope of winning against deathworlders, but he could certainly make himself a pain of a target.

“I know I’m a pirate, but this was supposed to be just a talk,” Remus said, wondering if he’d be able to hit the communicator in time and if rescue was possible. Violent deathworlders in an enclosed space was not something he wanted his crew walking into, even for a rescue.

“It’s not much of a talk when we don’t have a say,” the human said, looking more and more threatening every second.

Iaoth , he wanted this human on his crew.

“Of course you have a say!” Remus said. “Name it, what position do you want, what pay, days off, I’ll give you whatever room in the ship you want as your quarters.”

“I fundamentally disagree with joining people that would knowingly traffic other people,” the human growled.

And then it leapt forward.

Remus yelped, swiping at the human and hitting the communicator with his other hand. “Roman!”

He was tackled to the ground, and the Scraascik pinned one arm while the human sat on his middle and held his other arm down.

“Remus?!” Roman’s voice came through the communicator.

“Let us go,” the human growled. “Once we’re out we’ll let them go.”

There was a tremor to the floor that Remus recognized. Roman must have been overloading the engine, they’d arrived and were docking.

“Is Remus ok?” Roman asked, sounding terrified.

“I’m fine, just a little stuck,” Remus said, trying to not sound scared so Roman wouldn’t get even more worried. “Laying under a deathworlder~ not quite as fun as I always imagined.”

Roman made a sound somewhere between a sob and laugh. “I’m coming to let you out. Don’t hurt him. Please.”

Remus was honestly a bit surprised that he was only pinned. The human was leaking blood from its shoulder and across its chest where Remus’s swipe had connected, but it hadn’t retaliated.

“Hurry,” the human said coldly.

The communicator turned off, and Remus had a strong suspicion Roman was calling the Embassy to have guards outside the ship when the cargo hold was opened.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Remus asked. “I know it won’t look like it from your end, but we don’t traffic, we take from ships we attack, but we’d either let them join us or take them to the authorities, we don’t just continue the traffic. And we could use people like you, you could help us take down so many more ships.”

The Scraascik leaned harder on his arm, and Remus grimaced.

“What would the authorities do?” The human asked.

“Uhhhh… well with the Scraascik, probably drop him back on his own planet, or with a Scraascik colony. Your planet though is still restricted, so they’d probably keep you until it’s opened.”

The human’s face contorted into something that did not look good for Remus.

“We’re on our way there, aren’t we?”

Remus wasn’t sure he dared lie, not when he was pinned to the ground with two very angry-seeming deathworlders over him. “Yeah.”

The human hit the communicator. “Listen.”

“I’m listening,” Roman said warily.

“Don’t open the cargo hold,” the human ordered. “You’re a pirate ship. You have smaller ships for scavenging, yes?”

“…yes.”

“Give us one.”

There was a long pause from Roman.

“Put food and fuel and translators in it,” the human said firmly. “We’re taking this one with us until we’re safely inside.”

This was probably wrecking Roman’s plans. There would be authorities involved and now no deathworlders to give them.

“Alright,” Roman said.

•^*^••

The door to the cargo hold was opened. Logan had the bear-alien in a tight hold, and Virgil was above them, looking like they were ready to strike out at anything that got within range.

They managed to walk along the halls until they reached the smaller ship. Logan had no idea how he was going to fly it, but it was the biggest chance by far that he’d had yet.

He shoved the bear alien away and slammed the door shut.

Virgil went immediately to the pilot’s seat, and Logan was amazed to see that there were places in the ceiling that fit their antenna. Soon there was a fast and loud humming, and the tiny ship lurched into motion.

•^*^••

Patton was being sent, since they didn’t really believe that there could be a Human and a Scraascik on the cobbled-together ship that had docked. So it was just him and Janus.

Janus wrapped his long tail around the back of Patton’s neck for balance as Patton walked back and forth, waiting for the ship to open its cargo bay.

It sure was taking a long time. They’d seemed so rushed when they called, but now they just wouldn’t open.

And then there was an engine powering up.

A teeny little scavenging ship took off from the bigger one, flying off. Patton scanned it, alarmed to see that there was indeed a Scraascik and a Human signature on board.

“Hey! Hey wait!”

He pulled out his radio, quickly setting it to the bigger ship’s frequency. “Let me in and go after them! We can’t let a Human go flying around unattended!”

“If they don’t let us in fast, go take the SC Meteor,” Janus said.

Patton wasn’t too surprised when the ship started undocking without answering him.

“We’ll get them!” He yelled, running for the Meteor.

[mca-attack21]

Damsel in Distress part I

This is a two part Arthur Pendragon x Reader based on the season two episode four of the show. Enjoy! Also you can find more of my writing here: Masterlist

Merlin woke up to a feeling of foreboding. There was something in the air that made his stomach turn with dread. As he prepared to go wake his clotpole of a master, he tried to push this feeling out of the forefront of his mind. But even as he made it down to the kitchen there was this sense of apprehension in the air. He hoped that he would run into you somewhere in the halls and that you would be able to set his mind at ease. He however was not so fortunate.

Instead, he trudged onward, setting Arthur’s food down and opening his curtains before declaring a half-hearted, “Rise and Shine” before quickly gathering some of his clothes to be washed. Arthur didn’t even have time to come up with a jest before Merlin was out of the door. Merlin busied himself, quickly polishing Arthur’s armor and completing other daily chores. He mentally prepared himself to deal with the prince as returned to his door.

“Ah, there you are, I was beginning to think you were avoiding your duties. And what’s this?” he asked, watching as Merlin laid everything out, “You’re actually doing your job for once? Are you feeling alright?” Arthur joked.

His smile soon turned to a frown as Merlin ignored his comments. He shrugged it off and allowed Merlin to help him dress and put on his armor. While Arthur was looking over some papers on his table he noticed that Merlin had already made his bed and was starting to take the dishes from the table.

“Merlin, clearly something is upsetting you,” Arthur pointed out.

“It’s nothing sire, do you need anything else?” Merlin asked with his back against the door.

“No, that will be all,” Arthur dismissed, sending a concerned glance towards his friend as he exited.

Merlin took leave and went back to his chambers to help Gaius. He tried to occupy his mind, but nothing he did seemed to ease that burning pit in his stomach. Something had happened, was happening, or was about to happen, he could feel it.

Somewhat abruptly, he decided that he needed to see you. He went to seek out Morgana, as you were filling in for Gwen while she was taking care of her brother. He knew that wherever Morgana was, you wouldn’t be far away.

It was in his search that he saw a few of the knights rushing for an audience with the king. Something had happened. Merlin followed at a close distance and listened in.

“As you know Sire Morgana, her maid, and a few knights rode for a pilgrimage to her father’s grave early this morning. They were meant to be back by now, but there is no word or sign of them. That was until one of the patrols came across one of the knight’s horses. I am afraid something went wrong..”

“Send men out immediately. Arthur, you will lead the search, do whatever you must to bring her home,” the King ordered concerned for his young ward.

“Of course father,” Arthur answered before hastily making an exit. Merlin was right on his heels, and left to prepare their horses.

---

The mercenaries had both you and Morgana in a tent with a guard posted right outside the doors. The two of you had come up with a plan, it was risky at best. However you were both aware of the fact that the further away from Camelot you traveled, the less likely you were to ever see it again.

“Are you ready for this?” Morgana asked, preparing herself.

“As ready as I’ll ever be”

She was about to step forward when you grabbed her arm, “No matter what happens, I want you to take any opportunity you get. Don’t worry about me. Promise.”

“There is no way I’m leaving without you.”

“Morgana, you have to promise me. I cannot bear the risk otherwise.”

“I promise, but only as long as you promise me the same. We take any opportunity we get.”

With that, the plan was in motion. Morgana demanded that she be allowed to bathe and you both were escorted to the river by two of the men. You took the distraction of her undressing to manage to disarm one of the men and tossed Morgana the sword just in time for her to take out the other. The two of you started running back towards the castle, but there was another mercenary that intercepted you. Being as you were the one with the sword you opted to fight him, thankful for the many hours you had spent training with Arthur when you were younger. Morgana turned back to help you.

“Go, I will be right behind you!” you shouted, watching her hesitate, “Morgana go! Now!”

She turned and ran only looking back when she heard your scream in the distance. She quickly picked up her pace again and ran without looking back. She pushed through the aching in her muscles until she was faced with a crossbow aimed at her face. Relief filling her features as soon as she saw its holder.

“Where’s Y/n?” Arthur asked immediately.

Morgana merely shook her head and Arthur turned before his face could give him away. Merlin pushed down his own feelings and went to Morgana to make sure she was okay and offer her water and food. They set off immediately for the castle and soon came the reunion between Uther and Morgana. She begged him to send out another search party for you, after all you had saved her life.

“I am not going to waste the time and resources on a servant girl who has most likely already been executed as she provides no worth to the mercenaries without you,” he explained to Morgana. The words cut Arthur deeper than any sword ever had.

“Please, there is still a chance. Arthur?” she turned towards him hoping he would take her side.

“I’m sorry Morgana, father is right” Arthur managed before turning and exiting a very angry Merlin on his heels.

“How could you say that? How could you possibly agree with him after everything that you and Y/n have been through? I knew you were a clotpole, but this, this is unforgivable!” Merlin all but shouted.

“Merlin Shut Up!” Arthur raised his volume before regaining his composure as he entered his chambers, “Of course I don’t agree with father, but there was no point in making a scene about it. We will pack and leave at first light. We will find her, one way or another.”

Merlin was speechless for a moment, before uttering an apology for overreacting before. He was then quick to leave and make the preparations for the next day as it was already early night.

The next morning he was surprised to see that Arthur had managed to not only wake himself up, but dress himself. He was looking over maps as Merlin entered. Soon the two of them were off on their quest to save the damsel in distress. The rode for the better part of the day before coming to a caves that were inhabited by wilddeoren. As they made it through the other side Arthur let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding, “I can’t believe the Gaia berries actually worked.”

“Hold up, you mean to tell me that you didn’t know that they would work before you lead us in a cave with giant flesh eating rats!”

“I mean not for sure, I heard stories, but I figured we’d find out one way or another.”

“Now you tell me?! Oh! Oh, what's that wilddeoren eating? It's all right. It's just Merlin. You trying to get us both killed?”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't've risked your life like that,” Arthur said a new hint of seriousness in his voice.

“I didn’t realize that even the great Arthur Pendragon could fall victim to the blindness of love,” Merlin joked.

“What in the world are you going on about?

“Your feelings for Y/n. Why can’t you admit that you like her? I mean you are risking your life and even your father’s wrath just for a one in a hundred chance of rescuing her.

Arthur scoffed rolling his eyes, “She is just a friend, I’d do the same for you. In fact I seem to remember disobeying my father before in order to get you an antidote when you decided to get a few days off my drinking out of a poisoned chalice.”

“That was different and you know it. Besides, anyone who has ever seen the two of you together can pick up on it. Why is it so hard to admit you like her? It’s only me, just say it,” Merlin encouraged.

“I can't! How can I admit that I think about her all the time. Or that...I care about her more than anyone. How can I admit that...I don't know what I'll do if any harm comes to her?” Arthur confessed struggling to keep his emotion in check.

“Why can't you?”

“Because nothing can ever happen between us! To admit my feelings knowing that...hurts too much.”

“Who's to say nothing can happen?”

“My father won't let me rescue a servant. Do you honestly believe he'd let me marry one?”

“You want to marry Y/n?”

“No! I mean maybe someday...I...I don't know...Regardless, it's all talk, and that's all it can ever be.”

“When you're King, you can change that. If she feels the same way, she would wait for you.”

“I can't expect her to do that, it’s not fair to her. Besides, we don’t even know if she’s alive,” he said regretting the words even as they left his mouth because they caused his stomach to drop.

“I’m sure she’s fine Arthur. She knows that you’ll come for her and that hope will keep her alive.”

The words seemed to offer Arthur some comfort, “Come on. We've got a long trek ahead. Oh, and Merlin...if you dare tell anyone about this, I promise I will make your life a living hell.”

“You mean more than you do now?” Merlin joked, earning a playful smack from his friend.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Camping: Echo’s Ending

   Intro

   “I guess I’ll sunbathe with Echo,” you decided.  He had already begun carrying his folding chair across the clearing, and he stopped to wait for you.  Omega gave you a nudge, her eyes flickering to the rest of the folding chairs before coming back to you. 

   “Go on!” she whispered.

   “Alright, I’m going,” you whispered back, though you were trying your best to hide a smile.  She was way too excited about this.  “Where are you heading?”

   “I’m going with Hunter.  See you!”

   You shook your head as she hurried away before grabbing one of the chairs and catching up with Echo.  

   He chuckled.  “What’s with her?”

   “She’s probably just excited about the trip,” you replied with a shrug.  The two of you ventured to the very center of the clearing where you’d get the most sun with no trees towering over you to block it.  As you unfolded your chair, Echo tugged off his red t-shirt.  The sight out of the corner of your eye surprised you, but you managed to keep your eyes focused on the task at hand.

   “It is so bright here,” he murmured, lifting his face toward the sky.  His eyes were closed, and his mouth was pulled up in a smile.  Your heart leaped at the look of happiness on his face at something so simple.

   He deserves to be this happy all the time, you thought.  You wished you could bring the sun’s rays aboard the ship so he could enjoy it whenever he wanted.

   Echo released a sigh and took a seat in his chair, letting his arms stretch out on the rests.  You did the same beside him.  Your eyes slid shut as you appreciated the warmth that the sun brought to your face.  However, it was already getting a little too warm.  You peeked an eye open at Echo’s shirtless form.  If he was going to be comfortable, so would you.  You pulled your shirt off and tossed the garment aside to reveal your swimsuit underneath.

   He glanced your way at the sound of movement in your chair.  “You good?”

   “Yeah, I just didn’t realize how hot it really was out here.”

   “The shade of the trees can be deceiving,” he agreed with a chuckle.  “Want some water?”  He lifted a canister toward you, and you accepted it gratefully.

   “Thank you.”  You took a few sips and handed it over, watching as he tipped it back to take a swig himself.  “It got quiet really fast.”

   Echo stole a glance at the empty camp over his shoulder, nodding.  “Probably the quietest it’s been since I joined them.  They’re a nice group and all, but sometimes...”

   You recalled the many, many times you had to endure bickering aboard the ship.  There were some interesting dynamics that came into play in a group of seven.  Not to mention, it wasn’t very difficult to get on each other’s nerves on such a small vessel.

   You and Echo both exchanged glances and laughed aloud.

   “I know what you mean.”

   “Well sure, we can laugh about it now,” he chuckled.  “But just wait, when this trip’s over, it’ll be the same thing all over again.”  

   You shook your head in amusement.  “They really do drive me crazy, but sometimes it’s not a bad thing.”

   “You know, you probably drive me crazy the least.”

   You giggled.  “Why, Echo, that’s so nice of you to say.”

   “No, really.  I like that we get along.”

   You looked over to see Echo already meeting your eyes.  Your heart accelerated under his warm gaze.  Even though he put on a grumpy demeanor at times, there was no mistaking the depth of his kindness and affection.  You saw it in the little moments when he was tender with Omega or protective over his squad, including you.  There had been many occasions where he was particularly protective of you.  It made your heartbeat quicken in your chest, yet at the same time, it made you feel so safe.

   “I guess I can say the same about you.”  You smiled.  “You drive me crazy the least too.”

   “Good to know.”  Echo leaned his head against the back of the chair, exhaling.  Both of you fell into a comfortable silence as you soaked in the sun’s rays.  Bird songs filled the air.  The quiet buzz of some sort of bug sounded nearby.  Time passed.  You were drifting in and out of a peaceful nap, mind only focusing on the brightness beyond your eyelids and the warmth it provided.

   At one point, you awoke to see that the sun had drifted behind the clouds.  The sky had gone gray, and the air was beginning to cool.  You glanced over to see Echo still fast asleep in his chair.  His face was serene as if the sunshine brought him good dreams instead of the nightmares he had on occasion aboard the Marauder.  You hated the idea of waking him, but the sky was looking grayer by the minute.

   “Looks like it might rain,” you commented softly.

   “Hm?” Echo paused, mid-snore, and blinked his eyes open.  “What was that?”

   “Sorry to wake you...It looks like it’s going to rain.”

   He seemed to wake up a little more, rubbing the back of his neck with a yawn.  “That’s alright.  We’d better take cover then.”

   “Oh no…” you muttered.  “Omega and I forgot to put the tarps up.”  But as you stood from your chair and folded it up, you looked over to see someone had put the tarps over the tents.  “Nevermind.”

   “How long were we out?” Echo asked, glancing around.  It was then that you noticed a fire had been made and put out.  A raindrop on your forehead caught your attention.  You wiped it off with the back of your hand and looked at your teammate who was also wiping a droplet from his bare shoulder.  “Looks like it’s starting.  Let’s go.”

   Both of you hurried your chairs over to the pile and ducked into the nearest of the two tents.  It was totally empty except for a few sleeping bags.  You peeked out to see Tech sitting at the doorway of the other tent.

   “The two of you slept through lunch,” he called, handing over two containers.  “I took the liberty of saving you some leftovers.”

   “Thanks, Tech,” you nodded appreciatively.  “Is everyone back?”

   “Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega are here with me.”  He gazed out across the clearing.  “Crosshair still hasn’t returned, though he commed that he was on his way.”

   “Hi, _________!” Wrecker called, pushing past Tech to wave.

   You laughed and waved back.  “Hi, Wrecker.”

   “Anyway,” Tech tried to shove his brother back inside.  “My scanners indicate the rain should last a little while.  We plan to wait it out.”

   “Sounds good.”

   With one last nod, Tech zipped the doorway shut.  You did the same, crawling back in to see Echo getting his sleeping bag out.  You set down the containers next to him.  “Tech saved us some leftovers.”

   “We really must have been out,” Echo shook his head.  “Missed lunch and everything.”

   “It was a good nap,” you said.  “Much-needed.”  You pulled your shirt back on over your bathing suit, feeling a shiver run down your spine from the disappearance of the sun.  Once Echo’s stuff was set up, he did the same.

   “Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he joked.

    As if you weren’t already aware that it was just you and him in the tent.  As if you weren’t already thrilled over it.

   “Yep, until Crosshair gets back or the rain stops.”

   “Well then, let’s enjoy it while it lasts.”  He patted the spot beside him, and you smiled and took a seat.  Leaning against his shoulder, you listened as the soft tap-tap of rain on the tarp grew heavier with each second.  It was a good thing the tent was on a higher part of the clearing, or else there might be water seeping in from the ground.

   “What a day,” you said.  “First we got to enjoy the sun, and now we get to enjoy the rain.”

   He hummed in agreement.  “There’s no one else I’d rather enjoy it with.” 

   Your gaze flickered to his profile as he gazed straight ahead.

   Your palm brushed his cheek, slowly turning his face toward you and bringing it closer.  The gentle contact evoked a small gasp from him as he leaned into your touch, eyes shut.  A few seconds passed before Echo closed the distance and kissed you.  What felt like electricity hummed through you at the contact.  He drew back only for a moment to whisper your name, half-lidded eyes glowing with adoration before molding his lips to yours.  It was your turn to gasp as his hand went around your waist and pulled you against him.

   “Echo,” you murmured.

   “Hm?” he paused, lips hovering near your chin as he listened.

   “There’s no one else I’d rather enjoy it with either.”

   He pressed a kiss to your jaw and another one to your cheek.  “Good.”  There was a smile that held a rare confidence as he gazed at you with eyes glinting, almost a smug smirk, and it made your heart thump wildly in your chest.

   The sound of the tent unzipping prompted the two of you to snap your gazes to the door.  It was so sudden that neither of you scooted away or put any distance between you.  Crosshair entered the tent, scowling and muttering at the dampness of his clothes.

   “What?” he halted, eyes flickering between you.  “Did I interrupt something?”

   You and Echo exchanged looks and shrugged, neither of you knowing quite what to say to that.  You scooted back to your own sleeping bag on account of not wanting to give Crosshair another reason to be grumpy.  He and Echo started talking about the interesting change in weather, and you let your gaze wander out the tent door which hadn’t been zipped shut just yet.  You felt a warm hand take yours, and you stole a glance at Echo as he looked your way.

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 1

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Nick Fury and Maria Hill

Summary: The Guardians have pissed off some really dangerous people and need to lie low. Apparently your home is the perfect place to keep them, according to Fury.

Part 2 Here

Author’s Note: This will be multiple chapters, I already have so many scenes for this in my head. I hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 6,610

You had been called into a sudden emergency meeting one afternoon, and walked in expecting to be sent on perhaps an urgent but still run-of-the-mill mission, or briefed on a sudden change to an existing case. You didn't expect to essentially become the babysitter for eight aliens. Well, one of them was human, but still.

You waited in the briefing room with five other agents and Maria Hill. One of your fellow agents, you thought her name was Stacy, tried asking what the meeting was about, and Maria would only reply to wait for Fury, and that he should be there soon.

Admittedly that made you a little nervous. It wasn't often that you didn't get any information before a meeting, but you tried not to think too much into it.

Fury arrived a few minutes later followed by six people you had never seen before.

Two of the men looked normal enough- that is to say, human- but they were the only two. One with red hair and another with strange tattoos on his neck. Then there was a large shirtless greenish/greyish man with what looked at first glance to be many swirly red tattoos covering his body. He had what you thought was a raccoon holding a wooden doll sitting on his shoulder, until the raccoon jumped down onto the table and you saw that not only did the raccoon walk upright, but the "wooden doll" was actually alive, and walked around as well when set upon the table. The other man was a rough looking type, and he was as blue as the sky with what appeared to be a red metal mow-hawk. There were two women with them as well, a taller green one who looked like she could kill you without blinking, and a smaller paler one with antennae who actually looked kinda scared to be there, as she was all but hiding behind the larger shirtless man.

Now, with your line of work you were of course aware of the reality of aliens, but these were actually the first you'd seen up close other than some of the Skrull people Fury worked with.

This group, however, seemed a little... dysfunctional. The red haired man said something snarky to the raccoon, and to your surprise the raccoon spoke back, saying something equally snarky in return before snapping at the red haired man's hand. The man then mimed smacking the raccoon across the room only to then be smacked in the back of the head by the green woman, earning snickers from both neck-tattoo guy and the blue man.

Fury loudly plopped a folder on the table and looked at the group sternly, prompting them to silence. He then turned to you and your fellow agents. "You're probably wondering why I called you all here." Not waiting for an answer he continued, "In simplest terms, we need to provide sanctuary for this lot because they went and pissed off some very dangerous people, and the Nova Corps urgently insists that they need protection."

An agent to your right, you didn't know his name, spoke up. "Then why aren't they hiding them? Why pawn them on us?"

"This is their way of hiding them. Earth is considered primitive by the rest of the galaxy's standards. We have virtually no contact outside this planet, and Nova figured this would be one of the last places anyone might look. Buy them some time to diffuse the situation with the people after these guys before they blow them to pieces."

For seemingly no reason, the red haired man then flicked the raccoon, only to fall on his ass when the raccoon lunged at him, receiving many annoyed looks from the rest of the group.

The same agent spoke again, confusion on his face. "Pardon me, but why is this Nova Corps putting all this effort into hiding... them?" The inflection was clear. What was so special about these dumbasses?

Fury, after witnessing the buffoonery, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, in addition to them being idiots." He punctuated the sentence with a sharp look toward the group, making the man and raccoon attempt to straighten up. "They've also managed to save the galaxy on more than one occasion. Nova is understandably less than willing to see them come to deadly harm. This is where you come in. We can't keep them here, so we need agents who can house them until everything blows over. Now, we're considering dividing them them among the five of you-"

"Wait! Whoa whoa whoa! You never said we'd be split up! We're a team! You can't split us up!" cried the red haired man. The rest of the group seemed agitated as well, and started to argue with Fury.

You heard a couple agents to your left whispering that they were in no way going to house any of them, and you couldn't help but agree as you watched the scene in front of you.

The blue man had the red haired man by the arm, irritably telling the younger to "Calm down, boy!" as the red haired man tried to pull away, yelling and pointing at Fury about how "This wasn't the deal!" The green woman was also yelling at the red haired man, something about having no choice if they wanted everyone to be safe, as the neck-tattoo guy just stood there, almost as if he didn't know whether to be angry or sad. The woman with the antennae looked even more frightened, now burying her face into the chest of the large tattooed man while he simultaneously patted her head comfortingly and somehow also managed a deadly look at your director. The raccoon had now hopped back on the table to comfort the little wooden creature, which was now crying, soothing it and saying, "It's ok, buddy, I'm not gonna let them separate us, I promise. Look at me, it's gonna be fine."

That's all it took, and you cursed yourself.

You rubbed a hand down your face. Damn it. "I'll do it." you said, voice raised just loud enough to be heard over the commotion.

Loud enough to capture Fury's attention. He turned away from the now quieting group and shared a brief look with Agent Hill. "What was that?"

You sighed, a voice in your mind yelling at you to reconsider. "I've got a place. Out of the way." Wait, what the hell are you doing? "I can take them." No. Turn back! It's not too late! "I mean, people will have to double up in the bedrooms, but I have the space to take them all." Dammit! What's wrong with you!?

Fury nodded. "Where do you live?"

"In the interest of security, sir, I think that's a conversation best had in private."

Fury smiled. "Good answer."

***

After Fury dismissed the other agents and discussed the whereabouts of your home and its security, he surprised you by declaring that you'd all be leaving within the hour.

You were taken a bit aback, having assumed you'd have some time to prepare, but agreed, assuming that time must be of the essence. Preparations could be made as you went, you supposed.

The ride to your home was a bit awkward, to be honest. Fury split the group between your car and a larger black SUV that he would be driving. In your vehicle you transported the red haired man and the green woman, who's names you learned were Peter and Gamora, along with agent Maria Hill in the front passenger seat. You assumed she had been assigned to ride with you rather than Fury for security purposes, but you didn't ask. Fury transported the rest, which you were sure would have been an interesting ride to say the least.

Your journey, however, was quite quiet. Peter kept trying to make conversation, but it never went much further than a couple-word answers from you or Maria. Reason being that you honestly just didn't know what to say, and you weren't exactly the most open book, and you'd never known Maria to be much of a conversationalist while on the job, though you two usually got on pretty well together.

Your home was an old double storey stone farmhouse set in the countryside, miles away from the nearest house, and even further away from the nearest town. The back of the property was a decent sized lot that emptied into a forest that also shielded around the sides, and at the front there were hedges and tall trees blocking the property from the sight of nearest road. It was easy to miss if you didn't know where to find the drive path that turned off the main road and winded up to the house. For all intents and purposes, to any average person taking a country drive, it was as if it wasn't even there, lost among the vast amount of trees.

Therefore, when you did finally arrive at your home a good bit later, you were more than surprised to find three black vans already parked in your drive. You were first alarmed, worried that somehow your location had already been compromised. You stayed behind the wheel for a moment, unsure of what to do, until you looked in the rearview mirror to see Fury and his lot exiting his vehicle. You looked to Maria in confusion.

"Yeah, there may be a bit more you need to be briefed on." she said in reply to a question that hadn't left your lips, smiling apologetically.

You got out of your car, followed by the rest of your passengers, and walked over to Fury who was standing in front of his passengers as they stared up at their new (hopefully) temporary lodging.

"What's going on here?" you asked when you reached him, gesturing to the men coming out of your house.

"Slow workmanship. They should have been done and gone 30 minutes ago." Fury said flatly, gazing at a man who nodded apologetically to the director and spoke into his walkie for his men to wrap up.

"Fury-" you say, your tone unamused.

"Agent Hill was supposed to brief you on the way over." he said, looking past you to Maria with a raised eyebrow.

"I considered that it might be better to wait until we reached the destination, sir, rather than inside of a moving vehicle, considering."

Fury half nodded as if in agreement, then turned to look back at your home. "We already scoped your place out a week ago. You're right, it was nearly the perfect place."

"Excuse me?" you say, eyes widening in confusion and surprise. What the hell did he mean he had already scoped it out a week prior? You had been under the impression these people had just been spontaneously dropped in Fury's lap.

"Your home," he said as if that would clarify things. "We had already looked into it, and other than needing a few adjustments, it was the perfect safe house to hide them."

"You- How-" you sputtered. You took a moment to gather your thoughts. "You mean to tell me that this was all already decided before you ever called that meeting?"

"Of course. It would have been irresponsible to drop them off at the first place we found."

"Then why call the meeting? Why the damn charade if this wasn't really my choice?" You were fighting not to raise your voice too much, but it still came out irritated. You threw an accusatory glance at the group, who were clearly listening in on the conversation, not like you had been quiet enough for them not to hear if they hadn't been. "Were you lot in on this?"

Peter held up his hands and shook his head defensively, as did a few of the others. You only narrowed your eyes and turned back to Fury as he spoke.

"Oh, you always had a choice, I just wanted to make sure you'd be willing." Fury said calmly, only now turning to look at you. "I knew you'd say yes."

"How could you possibly know I'd say yes!?"

"Well you did, didn't you?" You could almost hear laughter in his voice. The fucker practically seemed pleased with himself. You could feel your blood boiling.

"Oh yeah? How do you know I won't take it back after this stunt?"

Fury turned back to watch the vans turn around to exit the drive. "You won't. I know that well enough."

"How can you be so sure?" you say defiantly.

The Guardians look to each other worriedly. What if you did take it back because this Fury guy pissed you off? Would they have to be separated? Would they have to find a whole new planet to hide on?

Yondu eyed you as you asked your director how he was sure you wouldn't take back your offer, expecting him to say that he would be paying you too much to refuse, but he didn't expect the answer that actually came out of Fury's mouth.

"Because you offered with asking how you'd be compensated, and you still haven't asked. That, and I read your face like an open book." He now grinned as he looked at you, saying much softer, "You don't have it in you to turn them away."

You felt your face grow hot and you stuttered a bit before looking up at the sky in defeat, sighing at the darkening clouds beginning to gather overhead, a testament to your torment, to be sure. "Fine." you say. Suddenly remembering what he said, you looked back at him, "What did you mean by adjustments?"

Maria smiled at Fury as she placed a hand on your back and guided you towards the door. The other's followed.

"I know this seems like an intrusion, but we promise we didn't hurt anything. We simply added a couple beds, stocked the pantry, and updated the plumbing and wiring."

"The plumbing was fine," you grumbled, "and I was working on the wiring."

"Your home is just over 200 years old. The plumbing might have been fine when it was just you here, but now you'll be housing eight other people. I think you can understand why we would consider improving it." Fury stated, almost like a reprimand to your stubbornness. You eye him, wondering how he could know how old your home was, but you supposed he knew that the same way he knew where to find your home a week before you ever told him where it was.

Because he was Fury.

Looks were exchanged among the Guardians as they entered the home behind you, surprised to hear of the age of your home to see it in such nice condition. Though, if you had been living here they supposed it shouldn't have come to much surprise that you would have cared for it.

The front door opened up to a large hall featuring a staircase to the left. On either side of the entrance were two more doors.

Maria lead you all through the door on the right into the kitchen to briefly show they had stocked the pantry with some foods they, The Guardians as you heard them referred to as, were used to, to make the transition to Earth foods easier. They would be making bi-weekly supply drops to your home to keep the pantry stocked to feed all of them, but the food would soon be coming only from Earth, as it would be both expensive, and a possible security risk to try and keep importing foods from outer space.

You all then exited the kitchen and travelled up the stairs while Maria explained that everyone's bags had already been placed in the rooms based on what they assumed would be the correct sleeping arrangements. Of course, everyone was free to switch it up at their discretion. Once at the top of the stairs you instinctually step forward and reach up to pull the string for the light, as the hall was a bit dim due to the fading light outside, but you find it missing.

"Where the hell did-" you think softly out loud, looking up to see the whole fixture had been changed. The light then came on by itself and embarrassingly resulted in you startling in surprise. You turn to see Fury grinning slightly while shaking his head, his finger still near a switch that definitely wasn't there before you left the house that morning.

"Man, they weren't kidding when they said you Terran types were primitive, eh Pete?"

You shot the raccoon an offended look before Fury reminded you that they had updated your wiring. You blushed and looked at the new switch suspiciously, wondering how they managed to rewire your house so quickly without destroying the walls, but resisted the urge to sarcastically accuse him of witchcraft lest you give these 'Guardians' the idea that you were actually scared of electricity. Not that you cared what they thought, or anything.

Maria motioned to the first door on the left of the landing, and said to you that they naturally assumed it was the one you slept in, as it appeared to be the only one currently being inhabited. You nodded that she was correct and she continued, opening the door and informing you that they had added an extra bed and had placed Mantis's bag inside. She pointed to the woman with the antennae, indicating that's who she was referring to.

You silently nod again, a gesture that you were accepting of this arrangement. Of everything else they had done, this was one of the lesser intrusive things, next to the pantry. The woman seemed like one of the least annoying of the bunch, so you weren't going to argue. Could be worse. They could have put the raccoon or the dude with red hair in there.

You didn't see, but Mantis let out a sigh of relief at this knowledge that you weren't going to be angry about sharing your room with her. Her mood immediately brightened, convinced she was about to make a new friend.

You peeked into the room as the others pushed forward with Maria. Inside was your wooden framed single sized bed, only now pressed against the right side of the room from where it had previously been centered beneath the window. A new bed had now been set up on the left side of the room, opposite corner from your own, to leave clearance for the attic door. This bed was a black metal framed single, already fitted with grey and white sheets.

You naturally assumed Fury's team decided to add similar beds to the other rooms while also making use of the remaining beds that were already there, and so you didn't follow the others to see. You didn't really care to see, hadn't been in those rooms much in years for a reason.

You just crossed your arms and leaned to rest back against your doorframe and watched on as Maria sorted them into the rooms and Fury took to standing in the corner opposite of you, watching everything.

Fury's team had apparently placed the belongings of the blue man and the man with the neck tattoos in the room directly across from your own, and you learned their names were Yondu and Kraglin, respectively.

They placed the large man, raccoon, and wooden child all in the room further down at the end of the landing on that side, and you learned the large man was called Drax, the raccoon was Rocket, and the tiny wooden child was Groot. Something twisted in your belly seeing the little wooden child shyly peek into the room from atop Drax's shoulder, but you forced it down. No time to think about who previously owned that room right now.

The raccoon could be heard complaining, "You're seriously gonna make me sleep in a crib?"

The twisting came back, and you looked at Fury, ignoring the snickers and banter from the raccoon's friends as they both teased him for his misfortune and told him to get over it.

"We might have taken advantage of some furniture in the attic." Fury said, shrugging.

"It was locked." you say, your eyes narrowed. How would he even know to look up there? Did they literally go through your entire house when they 'scouted' it?

"So was the front door."

You sigh bitterly, only eyeing him in response.

"Is there a problem?" Fury asked, not altogether sincerely.

You shake your head and break his gaze. "It's fine."

Directly across from the previous room, Maria informed the ones you now knew as Gamora and Peter that that's where their belongings had been placed, Maria stating that they hoped they weren't being forward in assuming the pair were a couple. Gamora only nodded and said it was fine, while Peter gave her a cheeky grin that made her roll her eyes. Them being in that particular room meant you'd be sharing a wall with them, and with the knowledge that they were a couple you hopped it wouldn't mean you'd wind hearing any... 'special' noises at night while you were trying to sleep.

Once everyone knew where they'd be sleeping and seemed happy enough with the pre-arranged sleeping arrangements courtesy of who you were now mentally dubbing Intruder Fury, neck tattoo man-Kraglin- looked at Maria and asked where the restroom happened to be.

You lowered a hand from where it had previously been crossed over your chest and rapped twice on the wall, getting his attention, and pointed to the only still closed door to your left, centered in the wall across from the opening to the stairs.

He nodded in thanks, seeming slightly embarrassed that he had forgotten that this was, in fact, your house and not Intruder Fury's or Co-Intruder Hill's.

Fury gave you an unimpressed look that you read as, "Use your words." and you spoke up saying there was another bathroom downstairs if anyone else needed it. Peter spoke up saying that he could use it, and so you nodded your head towards the stairs in a "come on then" gesture and lead him as well a couple others downstairs to point where it was, down the hall towards the back of the house, past the kitchen. It was the only door at the end the hall that could be seen from where you stood, so he couldn't miss it.

Maria and Fury met you at the bottom of the stairs behind the rest of the Guardians, sans Kraglin of course.

"We trust everyone will settle in nicely," Fury said, turning a pointed look at the Guardians as he said "and will be on their best behavior." This earned a few nods from the group and he then turned to you, adding almost jokingly, "Would you like to finish the tour?"

You pointed towards the kitchen and spoke flatly, "Food's in there, so is laundry," you pointed towards the bathroom Peter had disappeared into, "Shower and toilet's in there," you pointed upstairs, "Sleep's up there," you opened the door to your left, the only room not yet explored that you were willing to open, and pointed inside, "Sitting room is in there. Watch TV, read, knock yourselves out."

Fury spoke first. "I get the way we went about this situation may seem less than ideal to you, but I assure you there's no need to be testy."

"I have every right to be 'testy.' You couldn't have just asked? If you really somehow already knew I'd say yes than why go through all-" you waved your hands around, trying to find the words, "You had to go and be all... you?!" There was an edge to your voice that drove the message. He had manipulated you, if that were even the right word for it. He had this all planned out in advance, made you a puzzle piece, you fell right where he said he knew you would, and you were meant to what? Smile about it?

"I could have," he conceded, looking thoughtful, "But that's not how I do things."

"You shook your head. You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

Fury only nodded once in response before asking, "Do you have any further questions?"

You look out the door window briefly to see the clouds had gotten much darker. "Looks like rain, director. Better hurry, wouldn't want you to get wet." The edge to your voice got sharper. Fury simply nodded with a half smile. Message received. Get out.

The Guardians, who hadn't gotten your hint to go shoo off someplace, remain stood in the hall, glancing at each other awkwardly. It surprised them that a man like Fury, and the way he seemed to be, would be seemingly so cool with the way you were speaking to him.

You spoke again as he reached for the door. "See you tomorrow. Ottawa case, right?"

Fury stopped. "Actually no. You won't be coming in tomorrow."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You've been moved off that case to this one, we won't be shipping you off to Canada. In fact, you're off all further cases for the foreseeable future."

"Am I being punished for something, sir?" you ask, the edge still not having left your voice, but it was now softened by confusion.

"No." Fury replied, "If anything, consider it a vacation."

"I did not ask for a vacation, sir." you say, trying to bite back the irritation in your voice. "I have no desire to just stay home."

Maria looked at Fury with a 'told-you-so' expression, stating to him that she had known you wouldn't have taken this well.

Fury looked at you firmly. "You're due for one, and we need someone to stay and guard them. You already live here, they're staying here- Two birds, one stone."

Your face hardened in indignation. "So I'm a babysitter now? Look, if you're retiring me just say so."

The Guardians still stood there awkwardly, Kraglin finally coming down the stairs to quietly join them, eyes wide and wondering where all the tension had come from. Maria tilted her head toward the sitting room, hoping they might get the hint. They did, awkwardly backing into the room, not wishing to interrupt your argument with Fury.

"You're not being retired-"

"Good. Then I can keep working. There's literally no reason why I need to stay home."

"You haven't taken a vacation in five years." Fury said, the authoritative tone in his voice rising, "This isn't a request. It's an order."

Peter then exists the bathroom, saying "What did I miss-" and almost shrinking back inside when he notices his friends are gone and the tense looks between you and Fury. Mercifully, Agent Hill gestures him to the sitting room and he sidesteps his way past while you ignore him, too focused on trying to burn Fury with your eyes.

Knowing you had no options and could make no further arguments, you angrily yielded. "Yes, sir." you say bitterly.

"That's better. If you need anything you know how to contact me or Agent Hill." With that he bid you goodbye and opened the door.

It was now beginning to rain outside.

"Warned you about that rain." you snarked as he made his way out the door.

***

Agent Hill looked at Fury as they entered his vehicle, the rain coming down harder now.

"Stubborn as hell, that one." Fury remarked, turning his key in the ignition.

Maria agreed, but also stated she thought this might be good for you as they drove away.

***

You stood there in the hall for a good moment before Gamora asked if everything was ok from the doorway of the sitting room. You looked at her, and she went on to apologize for their intrusion in your home but also said they were grateful you allowed them to stay.

She started to say something else, probably was going to be more apologies border-lining on 'please don't change your mind,' but you raised your hand and cut her off, "Don't worry about it. It's not you guy's fault he's an asshole," you say. You look at her and you can see she is tired, probably both from lack of sleep and worry. You try to be more gentle. "Look, it's fine. Just... settle in. I know it's late, but there's food in the kitchen if you guys are hungry, I'm- I'm gonna go clean something." You break eye contact and head into the kitchen, sure there was at least a plate or glass in the sink you could tend to.

Sure, enough, once you got to the sink you noticed a few dishes from the morning, and so you turned on the tap. You decided cold water was good enough, not feeling like waiting for the immersion to heat up, but you turned the knob for the hot water anyway out of habit. Realizing you had thrown the old dish rag in the laundry without replacing it, you allowed the water to run while you searched the drawer for another.

You heard footsteps entering the kitchen as you returned to the sink, and assume someone must have finally decided they were hungry. Not turning to greet whoever it was, you absently run the cloth under the tap to get it wet- only to immediately rip it back with a, "g-OW! Damn! Fuck!"

You doubled over, holding your burning hand.

"You ok? What happened?"

You look up, squinting through pain, to see Drax had asked the question, standing in the doorway with Mantis and Gamora, the little tree child sitting on her shoulder.

You breathed. "Yeah. One of those fuckers must have turned the immersion on and left it." You straighten yourself, your hand still smarted but you knew it'd be alright, and turned off the tap with the dishrag. "I'll check it out."

You exit the kitchen through the other door at the far end of the room to check the hot press to the right of the cellar door behind the stairs, intent to turn the immersion off, and bitterly wondering just how long it had been left on for. However, once you opened the door your immersion was nowhere to be seen. You stared in confusion at the new pipes that now ran straight through the floor into the cellar before noticing a note taped to the back wall that only said "Upgraded to boiler. Check basement. ♡ Maria."

You narrowed your eyes and opened the cellar door, already pulling out your phone as you descended the stairs. You quickly located this new boiler fairly quickly. It was cylindrical in shape and black in color, and much larger than your previous heating unit, probably why it was now in the cellar. You dialed the phone, the first word out of your mouth when you got an answer was simply, "Why?"

***

The other guardians in the sitting room had also heard your swearing and peeked out of the room just in time to see you walking very cranky-like across the hall. They looked at the three standing in the kitchen doorway and they only shrugged in response to their quizzical glances.

Curious, and hearing you walk down the stairs, Peter and Kraglin tiptoed over to the Cellar door to see what was going on, standing just off from the door. They caught bits of your end of the conversation.

"Why?" ...

"Well, yes I can understand that, but-" ...

"Well you could have warned me! I just about burned my hand off!" ...

"Fine. How does it work?" ...

"No, I'm not going to-" ...

"Yes, I know they-" ...

"You know what, I'll figure it out. Bye."

They hear you start to climb the steps and scurry back to the sitting room, not wishing to make it apparent they were eavesdropping on their new host.

You re-enter the kitchen and grab a glass of milk to soothe your nerves, seeing as it was now raining buckets and you couldn't be bothered for a walk as you would have preferred.

You sit at the table and look to see the three still standing in the doorway. You raise an eyebrow. "You alright there?" Thinking bizarrely that they must be shy you gesture towards the pantry. "Food's over there if you're hungry."

Drax merely shrugged and took up the offer, guiding Mantis over with him, but not before accepting Groot from Gamora.

Gamora stepped towards the table and took a seat across from you. "I couldn't help but notice you seem less than happy about this arrangement, I'm sorry-"

You cut her off once again. "Don't be sorry. I already told you it's not your fault Fury can be a dick. It's just a lot of new all at once and I wasn't expecting it. You're fine." You take another sip of milk, finally realizing what it was that she was actually afraid of. "You don't need to be scared that I'll send you back or anything."

She actually seemed to relax a bit. "Thank you. If there's anything-"

You set your glass on the table and fold your hands. Sentiment made you uncomfortable. "Look, as long as you guys clean up after yourselves and don't destroy my home, we're fine." Looking for a change of subject you said, "Why don't you introduce the rest of your friends. It couldn't hurt to get to know you a little."

Gamora smiled slightly. "Well, that's Drax and Mantis." she said, pointing to the two who were now coming back to sit down with their snacks. "And this is Groot," she added once Mantis sat the child on the table.

You smiled. "Cute little bugger, isn't he?"

"I am Groot!" he said excitedly, taking a bite of a food you didn't recognize. Must have been one of those outer-space types.

"Hello, Groot. How are you?"

"I am Groot."

You raised an eyebrow. "Um.." Maybe he misunderstood you?

Before you could ask again, Drax speaks up. "That's all he can say. He means he's ok."

"Oh." You nod slightly and take a sip of your milk, bemused. "I see."

The four of you conversed for a little bit. You learned that Drax liked knives, and he seemingly took everything very literally. Mantis was sweet, and she was convinced you two would be friends. She also said she was excited to share a room with you, because it would be like a sleepover. Gamora gave you a smile that seemed to say "forgive her," but you honestly weren't too bothered. It was almost sweet. Before you could ask about Gamora though, she stood up and asked if you'd like to meet the others.

You shrugged and nodded, placing your now empty glass in the sink before following her out to the sitting room where the other men were.

You walked in and saw Peter sitting in an armchair listening to a music player, seemingly ignoring the other two men as they stood looking weirdly at the TV. The blue man tilted his head at it, a hand to his chin in thought, while the other waved his arms slowly in front of it saying, "I dunno. Maybe it's broken?" He looked ridiculous.

You stifle a laugh and asked, "What are you doing?"

They turn to you, the blue man speaks. "Tryin' to figure out how to turn on this Terran TV of yers. Rat says they're motion activated, but nothin' we do is workin.'"

You give him a strange look. "Motion-? No- You just use the remote."

Then you hear a snickering and find it's coming from the raccoon, perched on the back of the couch. "Rocket." Gamora says in a mix of scolding and accusation, and he starts laughing harder, jumping down on the cushions to retrieve the controller from between them. "You guys looked so stupid! Ahaha!"

Yondu glares and Kraglin snatches the remote, flipping the television on and raising his hands in an annoyed "There we go!" gesture, sharing an annoyed look with Yondu at Rocket.

You motion to one of the game controllers on the coffee table, stating they'd want to use one of those if they wanted to actually watch something, as the first controller only turned the TV on.

Before you could offer to show them how to use Netflix, Gamora started introducing the remaining guardians.

Peter removed his earbuds and greeted you, standing to shake your hand, only to be shot down by you saying there was no need to be so formal, keeping to yourself the fact that despite working for Fury, you hated formal with a passion. He held up his hands and sat back down. "No problem there. We're probably the least formal people you can get." he said with a smile. You didn't see, but Gamora gave him a warning look that kept him from putting his feet up on the table.

The other two men and the raccoon seemed to agree with Peter, and nodded their greetings to you instead when introduced.

"Say, just curious, but how come it's just you living in this big ol' house by yerself?" came a question from Yondu.

You probably should have expected that question, but you didn't like it all the same. You were trying to decided if 'Don't worry about it' would be too rude of an answer when Peter notices the change in your expression and adds his own question out of fear that Yondu had offended you in some way. "How long have you been here? Fury said this place was old."

You chose to answer Peter's question instead. "Grew up here. House has been in the family since it was built."

"Oh. Cool." said Peter.

Not looking forward to any more possible questions about yourself you looked up to the clock and found your way out.

"Well, it's nearly ten, I think I'll turn in early." you say, excusing yourself.

Just then a loud thunderclap sounded and you heard a squeal from the kitchen.

"Kid scared of storms?" you ask, looking to Gamora.

The lights go out. You hear a scream.

"Nah, but apparently Bug is." says Yondu.

Realizing he likely meant Mantis, and that Mantis was your new roommate, you sigh. "I'll get a flashlight."

The lights flickered back on.

"Nevermind."

Everyone pretty much decided to go to bed after that, Mantis shyly shuffling into the bedroom a few minutes after you to retrieve some items from her bag and coming back dressed for bed as you scrolled through Tumblr, having already washed up and dressed for bed.

She crawled into her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Thunder cracked again and she whimpered. You honestly felt a little bad for her.

"Do... does this happen often?" she asked.

"The storm? No." you answered honestly. "It'll be over soon. Just try to sleep." You stand up to turn the light off but pause, turning back to the curled up form on the bed opposite of your own, your face softening. "Would you like me to leave a lamp on?"

Mantis nodded.

You click on your desk lamp before turning off the overhead light and crawling into your own bed. You heard her say goodnight to you from across the room.

"Night," you return, turning toward the wall.

They were an odd lot, a bit dysfunctional, but you decided they were ultimately harmless. 'This whole ordeal will be over before I know it,' you thought as you closed your eyes.

You'd find out soon enough that you thought wrong.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 22 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Things are changing for the better. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Difference, Sub Drop, vague mentions of trauma/dissociation, PTSD (mostly comfort) Word Count: 7.25k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

The dulcet, bustling sounds of the Dulles International Airport were more soothing than I expected. Normally, the massive crowds and constant barrage of information would make my brain go into overdrive, but there was something about Spencer being there that made it all turn to white noise. If I had to guess, I would say it was the feeling of trusting someone to take care of you.

I still hadn’t gotten used to it.

“Hey, I got you something.”

Even then, when he’d approached me from behind and gingerly placed the bag on my lap, I barely even flinched. I smelled the contents of the bag before I noticed the logo or managed to open it, but once I confirmed it was what I thought it was, my eyes immediately teared up.

“Oh my god,” I keened, pulling out the familiar blue cup holding a much too sweet, much too large cinnamon bun. Although my mind was running with a million things to say to express just how appreciative I was, I took a bite out of it before I said anything else.

“I love you so much,” I mumbled around a mouth full of pastry.

Spencer tried to respond, but after one glance at me, fingers and face already covered in frosting after only a few seconds, he burst out laughing. 

“You’re a complete mess,” he chastised, trying to cluck his tongue but failing in his laughter.

I just smiled back, not even bothering with the plastic utensils and enjoying the indulgence with absolutely childlike joy. It wasn’t even just the sugar or my fingers pressing into the warm, sticky dough that made the morning seem so much better; it was the way Spencer watched me.

With one arm leaned against the chair, his whole body was turned towards me. It was clear from the slightly glassy look in his exhausted eyes that he was also stuck trying to find the right words to say to express just how grateful he was that we could still have moments like that.

Those same eyes roamed over my figure with such an overtly intimate gleam that it almost made me blush. If he’d touched me, I definitely would have. But he kept his hands to himself, and eventually, buried them into his carry-on bag. I didn’t even look at what he was doing, too lost in the sweetness of being cared for.

That foolhardy trust was a mistake. Because, it turned out, Spencer Reid was a monster.

Without any warning at all, a cold wet wipe was dragged over my cheeks. I flinched back, only to find Spencer’s hand holding onto my head and stopping me from turning away. The madman even had the audacity to smile as he gingerly wiped the frosting from my cheeks and chin. Of course, considering the fact I was thrashing wildly away from him, it ended up mostly on my lips.

“Pfftbtb! Spencer!” I spit and whined, earning confused looks from basically everyone in the vicinity. What they would find when they looked over was him in a fit of laughter, continuing to try and clean my face, which was still covered in sugary frosting despite his best efforts to remove it.

“I thought you enjoyed the taste of alcohol,” he teased.

“First of all, no one does, and second—” I started, only to be cut off with a kiss over my much too clean mouth. I smiled, but only because it used to be my move. I wondered when exactly the tables had turned, and it became his job to shut me up with a kiss.

“I know,” he whispered, licking his lips just to cringe at the taste he’d forced on me, “I’m just joking.”

I decided then that the sight and shared disgust for ethyl alcohol were enough for me to forgive him for the time being. I let him clean the rest of the evidence of my greed from my face but decided to clean my fingers myself. I popped each one into my mouth in what I’d imagined was a very non-sexual manner, but Spencer still seemed to enjoy watching me as each digit was cleaned. Granted, he handed me another wipe seconds later. Damn germaphobe. Like he didn’t shove his tongue in my mouth on a daily basis.

The rest of the treat was shared between us, with utensils this time, in a relative quiet. Brief giggles or sighs were all there was to be said. Once there was nothing left to fixate on, I was left only with my thoughts and Spencer’s eyes that still watched me like a horribly affectionate hawk.

“I’m really sorry,” I mumbled without realizing. I’d almost hoped he wouldn’t even hear it, or let it go without a conversation, but of course, he couldn’t do that.

“For what?”

“For making you do all of this,” I explained with a heavy sigh, “I feel like a big baby.”

Spencer’s hands came to brush away the stray strands of hairs from my face. They weren’t actually in the way of anything; I think he just wanted to make a better view. That alone was enough to make me smile, but that only seemed to make him feel guilty.

“Don’t apologize for this. This is my fault,” he said just as quietly. I mirrored his motion, running my fingers through his hair and watching as his mouth dropped open in a pleased smile.

“No, it’s not. You’re wonderful,” I said through my own. It was only a little bit sadder than his, but wasn’t that usually the case? I could only imagine what would happen the day we were both overflowing with nothing but joy. Before, that thought might lead me back to the bank, the place that ended our last purely happy encounter, but…

I looked at Spencer, with his mouth still slightly open and his head lolling back and forth with the little weight of my hand, and I couldn’t bring myself to think of anything bad. So I just thought of the picnic, instead. I thought of him licking my hand as we rolled in grass, and of his own hands working through my hair to make it into something besides a mess on my head.

I looked at Spencer, and I saw beautiful things. And the longer I played with his hair, the more relaxed and content he became. Of course, I would never be satisfied. His smile was the most beautiful thing to see, and I needed it to deal with the guilt still sitting like rocks in my stomach.

“Besides, it’ll be so much easier putting down my work and actually getting sleep when you’re waiting for me,” Spencer slurred, his neck relaxing to drop the weight of his head against my palm.

“I hope not too easy. The world needs you, Dr. Reid,” I kindly reminded.

His eyes fluttered open, trapping me in dark honey irises filled with pure adoration. “You need me, too,” he whispered.

“Arrogant bastard.”

Naturally, he took it as a compliment, his smile growing into a smirk as he answered, “A little bit.”

He should have known better than to give me that look, though, because within seconds my hands fell from his hair. A small whimper came from the pitiful man at the loss. It was quickly followed by a sharp inhale when my hand grabbed his thigh.

“You think I’ll actually let you sleep?” I whispered.

Aside from the obviously tense quadriceps beneath my palms, Spencer showed very little response to my suggestion. Well, rather, he showed little arousal to it. There was a reaction— just not the one I expected.

He looked... nervous.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that...”

“What?” I shot back immediately, my hands withdrawing and tugging on my shirt while I instinctively tried to hide from him. I was trying to look less guilty, but I was acutely aware that my actions screamed the opposite. So, I tried to combat my obvious anxiety with a voice that was far louder than it needed to be. “I swear I’m on all my medications. I haven’t missed a single therapy appointment, either!”

Spencer’s hands were gentle and cautious when they came to my wrists, gently pulling them away from my chest. “I know. I trust you,” he said with a sad but still genuine smile, “I just wanted to ask you how you wanted to handle this.”

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” The words tumbled out of me in the least convincing manner. Spencer was too smart to fall for them, although I could see a playfulness bloom through his features.

“No offense, but you just cried over a cinnamon bun,” he said, unable to stop a few chuckles from mixing with the words.

“It was just really good, okay?” I scoffed, tearing my hands away from him and feigning offense despite his little disclaimer. From there, I sank down in the shitty airport chair and refused to look up at him. I could still feel his cheeky, arrogant little grin watching me.

Eventually, after I thought we’d suffered enough and I could already feel my legs going numb, I weakly conceded, “Fine. What are my options?”

“Well, basically anything. But the main thing to consider is...”

He paused. It was one of the sure signs that he was taking the situation very seriously. Usually, he would just spout out whatever came to mind and sort out the details later. But this time, he spoke slowly and purposefully. “Majority of our relationship has been based on physicality. Whether it was sex or healing or hurting and I... I want to give you the option to not do that. At least, not for a little while.”

A feeling of dread filled my blood that I could suddenly hear rushing through my ears. I didn’t tell my heart to beat faster, but it did. My hands that had once again crossed over my chest suddenly itched to hold him.

“Why would I not want to?” I asked, fiddling with the buttons on my shirt and occasionally glancing up at him only to realize that he wasn’t looking at me, either. I tried not to read into it. After all, he was the profiler— not me.

“It’s not a matter of avoiding it. I just need you to know it’s not expected of you.”

Without shifting my body at all, my eyes were glued to him. The strain of the angle and the sound of those words caused them to burn, but I refused to let tears fall again. He wasn’t rejecting me, right? He was telling me that he loved me. There was no reason to be scared.

I wasn’t used to that yet, either. But I wanted to be. And judging by the way his hand cupped my face and guided it back to his, I think Spencer felt those anxieties. He tried to will them away by pressing his forehead against mine and letting his thumb ghost over flushed cheeks.

“Don’t be scared. I just need you to know that we don’t have to have sex for you to be worth my time and attention.”

The tears grew bigger under his scrutiny, but they didn’t fall until he closed his eyes. I think that was why he did.

“I love you,” he assured me with a whisper, “I’m not going to deny you affection or intimacy if that’s what you want. I just need you to know that it is always an option.”

Normally when Spencer pulled away, the air felt cold in his absence. For so long, my body had felt lonelier and less than without him. But in that busy, bustling airport, I felt just as loved even when his hands fell away and he sat back up in his chair.

For those who might’ve been watching, they would just see two lovesick idiots whispering sweet nothings in a flagrantly public display of affection. They wouldn’t have heard the weight of the words or felt the way my perception of the whole world shifted from them.

Spencer smiled again, still nervous, but also clear and authentic.

“I’m sorry,” he told me with his eyes fixated on my hands in my lap. He made no move to hold it, although I could tell he wanted to. I suspect he wanted me to focus on the words, so I tried my hardest. I almost asked him what he was sorry for, but he answered first, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that before.”

A lump quickly formed in my throat that I tried to swallow. When that failed, and I felt the telltale signs of tears filling the sides of my eyes, I did the only thing I could think of to hide. I threw my arms around the only thing that never failed to make them better. I buried my face in Spencer’s neck and laughed along with him as my eyelashes and breath tickled the soft skin.

After a brief second of listening to our hearts settle into a matching rhythm and letting our body heat sink into the clothes between us, Spencer groaned, “How are you still sticky?”

—————————————————

A couple weeks prior, the thought of being alone in a hotel room waiting on Spencer to finish work for the day would have instilled the fear of God in me. I would have done just about anything to avoid the exact situation I found myself in now.

But honestly? It wasn’t all that bad. It was the perfect opportunity for me to force myself to slow down. Granted, that mostly just meant that I would watch bad TV in a bathrobe with overpriced food, but... like they say, change is as good as a rest.

The hardest part about it was actually just convincing myself that I deserved the rest. While I was taking naps and trying to do anything to unwind, I knew what Spencer was doing.

Well, I had some idea of what he was doing. Reality was probably worse than my imagination— it usually was with his job. At first, I had let that guilt get in the way, but at some point over the nine hours, I realized that I would have to find a way to cheer myself up. Because as soon as I heard that small beep of the keycard, I would have to find a way to remind him of all the beautiful things in the world.

No pressure, right?

The sun had already started to set, and I hadn’t heard from him in hours. We’d started the day out with a constant line of contact, but over time he became too busy. Which, again, just meant that I would have to work even harder when he finally arrived.

Luckily for me, by the time Spencer had arrived, there was no need for a pep talk or acting of any kind. My heart immediately started to race the second I heard his voice down the hall. I had already bolted from the bed and positioned myself just far enough from the door that I could jump forward the second it opened far enough to fit me.

And when it did, I pounced.  

“Spencer!” I cheered, throwing myself into his arms that had fully been expecting me. Still, the two of us crashed back against the frame and I heard the breath be knocked out of him from the impact.

“Hey, little girl,” he managed to laugh with empty lungs that made it impossible to forget how tired he was. His arm eventually settled at my lower back, lifting me slightly so he could move us from the door’s path. But when we were out of harm’s way and the latch clicked softly in place, Spencer didn’t let me go. In fact, he tossed his bag into the chair at the desk and wrapped his other arm around me, too.

“How was work?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer.

“You know...” he muttered with a crackling voice, “awful.”

If that hadn’t given it away, the way he buried his face in my neck certainly did. His hands were even more insistent, pressing into my back as he led us both to the bed.

I had to laugh, though, as the realization dawned on him that he’d have to let go of me if he didn’t want to track filthy shoes in our bed. A heavy sigh fell from his lips when he finally released me, practically throwing me onto the terrible mattress before taking his seat next to me.

“I missed you,” I announced in the ambient noise of the cheapest hotel that the government could justify using.  

Spencer looked up at me, but the words took a little longer to register. I could only imagine how busy his mind must’ve been, and the guilt quickly came creeping back.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, albeit with a tint of sadness in his tone. But the longer we stayed there, the calmer he seemed. It was such a powerful effect of our proximity that by the time he did lay down next to me, he seemed like the man that had wiped frosting from my face in the middle of a busy airport.

Spencer must have noticed the shift, too, because no sooner had his head hit the pillow than he had flipped over, throwing his leg over me to pin me down against the bed.

My initial reaction was to keep laughing, but the noises were muffled by the persistent kisses he gave. They started at my cheeks and over the bridge of my nose but landed on my lips. I felt the tension leave his shoulders as he lowered more of his body weight against me, and I reveled in the feeling of his presence.

“God, I needed this,” he growled just before his tongue slipped into my mouth.

Everything we’d talked about at the airport felt a lifetime away, and as soon as I felt his erection pressing hard against my thigh, I only had one goal in mind. I forced my hands between us, trying to remove his tie with the hope that it would shed some of the thoughts he’d brought back from work.

But then it all stopped. Spencer had pulled away, grabbing onto my wrist and pinning it to the bed beside me once more.

“No, we don’t need to do that. I just wanted to kiss you,” he panted through heavy breath and swollen lips. I couldn’t stop staring at them long enough to answer, but it was clear from the look on his face that any plea I gave would be for naught, anyway. “I’m honestly way too exhausted to give you the attention you deserve.”

I believed him. Even when he hadn’t slept for nearly two days, he still looked livelier then. I had a sneaking suspicion that it had less to do with sleep and more to do with emotions. I wanted to help him with that, too, like he did for me, but I didn’t know how. So, I did the only thing I did know how to do well, which was to place a soft peck against his lips until they turned up into another smile.

“Get some rest, old man,” I murmured, “I’ll be here to kiss again when you wake up.”

“Let me hold you,” he answered immediately, nuzzling his face against my neck like a puppy seeking any shred of attention. I couldn’t tell if I was laughing because of the way his hair tickled or because it was so strange to see him so vulnerable while still in dominant, albeit disheveled, work clothes.

“Fine. Only because you asked nicely.”

Continuing the trend of being remarkably adorable, Spencer giggled as he rolled onto his side. I was almost tempted to turn towards him, but he had already wrapped his arms around me before I could decide. He pulled me as close as he could before his lips once again settled against the column of my throat.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he stated absently. It was so quiet that I’m not sure he’d actually planned on me hearing it. But when I reached a hand up to run through his hair, he spoke with a shaky, relieved whine, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

A gentle, warm exhale breezed over my skin as he continued, “I love you so much.”

From that point, any words he might’ve whispered were muffled through sloppy, sleepy kisses over my neck and shoulder. His hands, though slow, were still rough and purposeful as they pawed at me in a way that was only vaguely sexual. It was more like he was trying to prove to himself that he was actually here with me, and my breasts just happened to be the first thing he could grab.

That still didn’t stop my mind from running wild. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as I focused on the way his breath felt against areas still wet from his kisses. And when I arched my back, I felt his hips press harder.

Eventually, when I could trust myself to speak without whimpering, I asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to...”

I peeked back at him before continuing, having noticed a lull in his kisses. Sure enough, Spencer was fast asleep, his lips still attached to my shoulder. I had to chuckle at the sight, but my heart did hurt for him. I couldn’t imagine how tired he must have been to fall asleep then, and still in his clothes, much less.

The guilt over being the main cause of his tiredness was enough to keep me still for at least two hours. I spent that time slowly inching to a more comfortable position, only to be squished seconds later by Spencer. Even in his sleep, it seemed he was terrified of the prospect of me slipping from his arms. He was just being dramatic, though. It’s not like I had anywhere to go.

Wait, that sounded wrong. Truthfully, there were many places I could go, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay with Spencer, tangled in his long limbs and tickled by his hair that had grown long enough to gracelessly flop onto my face regardless of position.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to leave at all.

But I did. Inch by inch, I carefully slipped from Spencer’s arms. Against all odds, I managed to maneuver through the death grip he had on me and plop down on the ground beside the bed. My mind found that to be the perfect time to recall the lecture he’d given me about how suitcases, and more specifically, their wheels, were the most dangerous bacteria-laden aspects of traveling, but I dismissed the thought shortly after I stood again.

I didn’t want to leave Spencer’s embrace. I’m not really sure why I did. There wasn’t even really a particularly angsty reasoning for it. I just had this feeling, this tingling on my skin and a weight in my stomach that told me I was meant to be doing something different.

The only problem was that I had literally no idea what the fuck that something different was.

So, naturally, I did what every young child does when their parents had grown tired of their restless children jumping on the hotel bed. I grabbed the keycard and the ice bucket and set out on a very thrilling journey to find the vending room. The first part was the hardest. It was shutting the door to return the room to darkness, knowing that Spencer was alone in bed.

It was hard, but it wasn’t impossible. I slipped from the room into the horrible yellow lighting of the halls with the dizzying wallpaper and patterned carpet without another thought. I’d hoped that the walk might bring me answers to the mood I was currently wrestling with, but I was wrong. Because it basically only took me three doors to find the room that I was looking for.

Great.

I threw the door open haphazardly, actually contemplating grabbing the ice and returning to bed no wiser than I had left it. But when the door swung shut behind me, the humming from the machines bled into my brain and started to cover all the other thoughts. It was warmer than my room, as well as smaller and quieter. Of course, it was also remarkably less private, but it was also like 2am. If someone came in to find a strange girl sitting on the floor next to the ice machine, that was their own fault.

In a strange way, it was the most peaceful I’d been in a long time. As much as I loved being with Spencer, these circumstances made it hard for me to not feel like I didn’t belong. Probably because I didn’t. He was here on work, a life that he’d tried very hard to keep away from me. I didn’t blame him for that, either. I was sure he’d gotten a number of questions from Morgan and Garcia about my presence, but he hadn’t shared them with me. I’d even asked him, just so I could concoct my own retaliatory questions for the nosiest of them, but he just laughed the question away.

Maybe that was it. Maybe it was just the realization that Spencer had a life of his own and I was just starting to see it for the first time. I was learning so much about him and honestly… None of it was bad. Most of it was just downright silly. Things like prank wars and physics magic and careful, chemistry-based improvements to shitty coffee. I was just too busy realizing that I was falling even more in love with Spencer to notice anything else.

Including, apparently, the sound of the door to the room opening. Trust me when I say that was saying a lot; the presence of Aaron Hotchner was not easy to miss.

“Can I join you?” His voice filled the room despite its low volume, and I followed the sound with a small smile that grew at the sight of him in casual clothing. It wasn’t something that happened often, but it sure did make him less intimidating than our previous encounters.

“Sure,” I said as I pulled the still-empty ice bucket into my lap. Once he took his seat beside me, I rolled my head toward him to try and figure out what exactly he had planned. But after another few seconds of silence, I realized that he was doing the same thing I was.

Improvising.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” I asked, insistent that it wasn’t my job in this scenario to come up with the advice.

Hotch seemed equally lost, and with a slight shake of his head, he explained, “I only heard the door open once. Figured it was worth a trip to get some ice to check.”

He held up his matching ice bucket, to which I lifted mine to knock together like the worst kind of toast. It at least succeeded in making him laugh, although the sound was short-lived. We both recognized the shoddy attempt at humor was just masking the things I didn’t want to talk about.

“Why can’t you sleep?”

He had never really been a beat-around-the-bush sort of guy.

“Freakin’ profilers,” I affectionately muttered back, which only earned me a playful warning glance that I, for once, didn’t choose to ignore. “I don’t know. I’m guessing it’s probably the 3-hour nap I took when we got here.”

Then, deciding that still didn’t describe the situation well enough, I tagged on, “You know, while you all were working and saving the world and what not.”

Unfortunately, I’d forgotten the cardinal rule of the BAU: Do not ever speak poorly about yourself. Not even an implication.

“Rest is important. No reason for you to suffer for us,” he returned without pause.

“You sound like Spencer,” I said through a half-hearted laugh.  

Hotch shared my laughter, causing them both to grow in volume as he snarkily replied, “And who do you think taught him?”

“Right. Sorry.” I held my hands up in surrender, but we both knew it would be harder than that.

But that was okay. He came prepared.

“So, what else is wrong?”

“So persistent, you lot,” I chuckled. I half expected him to let it go, but he just turned to stare at me with that usually stoic face contorted with an obvious reprimand. I swear, I didn’t even realize his eyebrows could move that far. But there were, raised up his forehead as his cheeks dimpled from his little, knowing smirk.

“I don’t know,” I sighed, “Just thinking about things and I was scared I would wake up Spencer. Like he would feel my anxiety in his sleep.”

“What’s making you anxious?”

I paused. For a moment, I thought about lying. Not the kind of transparent lie that you do when you say that everything is fine. The kind of lie that also contained the truth. There were many things that had happened lately that would explain my anxiety, and they would be believable enough because I did still feel them.

“Everything. You know. The usual,” I said softly, attempting to stall.

Because that wasn’t what the problem was that day. The problems that day were… complicated in a different way than the usual angst. So, I let the thoughts marinate for a moment, considering the different outcomes and deciding which I really wanted.

I hadn’t let myself want things in a while. Maybe that realization was why I decided to just tell him the truth, despite how embarrassing it felt.

“It’s not bad anxiety, necessarily. It’s just this realization that… I don’t know.”

“Take a guess,” he pressed, feeling the hesitance as I stood at the brink of what I really wanted to say. The real answer to why I was sitting on the floor of an ice machine vending room with my boyfriend’s boss, who also happened to be our shared adoptive father figure.

I took a deep breath, clutching onto the ice bucket so tightly that my knuckles blanched and the edges imprinted on my hand until I blurted out, “That I think I’m ready for something else. Something more.”

We both stopped then, enjoying the noises of machinery and the barely-there echo of my words.

“Something more, huh?” he repeated more clearly.

I didn’t appreciate the way the words were practically sung through a clever grin, and before he could take that train of thought any further, I stopped him with an answer too loud to not be deemed defensive.

“Not like that! Not like, let’s run off and elope and have lots of babies tomorrow!“ He didn’t look convinced, so I continued with a much more believable promise. “Don’t worry, I’m not sniping your genius.”

“Thank goodness,” he replied sarcastically. I appreciated his ability to keep things lighthearted, and for a second I did have to laugh at the fact he was such a different person when he wasn’t at work. He must’ve taught Spencer more than I realized. And, in turn, Spencer was teaching me. I just wasn’t sure when the lesson would be over, or if it had already ended.

“I’ve just held onto my independence and this… heavy bullshit for so long, and I’m a little worried about what that means,” I thought aloud.

Again, Hotch had read my mind, or at least, my body language, and demanded the answer he saw written across my features. “What do you think it means?”

“Do you always give fatherly advice like this to whiny girls in ice machine rooms?” I shot back with my first attempt at a glare. It only lasted until he flashed me a toothy smile and his own clever retort.

“No. Now answer the question.”

“I had to try,” I grumbled, only to be shut down again in an instant.

“I’ll forgive you when you answer.”

With a begrudging sigh, I tried to do what he asked. But I only barely got through one word before they turned to a lump in my throat. I choked on the words strongly enough that tears I hadn’t anticipated began pooling on my eyelashes. The power of a profiler, I guess, to know I was on the verge of an emotional catharsis before I did.

“I know we all change. I know that no one stays the same. We all go through things and they change who we are. And that can be good, right? But…”

Once the words started, they wouldn’t stop, turning and tumbling from clumsy lips still chapped from incessant biting. But teeth and willpower couldn’t stop the feelings that caused them, and if Spencer had taught me anything, he’d taught me that speaking a feeling into existence was half of the battle to let it go.

“But sometimes it’s gotta just be bad, right? Like, we’ve got to acknowledge that sometimes we change in an irreparable way that’s just bad for no reason.”

“Right,” he very eloquently returned. Normally, I would have bullied him for giving such a simple response to such a complex question, but at that moment I was just grateful that I could continue. Heaven knows Spencer wouldn’t have let me.

“So, what if that happened to me? What if one day I wake up and finally find out the answer to the question I’ve been asking myself?”

When I turned to the man then, I saw a genuine confusion for the first time that night. I couldn’t tell you where I’d lost him, but it was clear that he heard something in me that alerted him that some deeper rooted issues were just now finding the light of day.

Of course, in this situation, it was really just a flickering fluorescent bulb.

“What question is that?” he whispered, like his voice would intrude in the thoughts.

But the truth was they didn’t feel like they belonged to me, either. That was the problem. I’d spent so long with memories that felt like a dream. I saw them playback when I closed my eyes, just to open them and find the same images reflecting in Spencer’s. I knew they were real because they were written into my skin, yet my mind rioted against them so hard that instead, I just started to think that this body wasn’t mine, either.

“How much of me died that day?”

The question sat with us, taking form in the reflection on the metallic surface that hummed a somehow somber tune. And even though I knew I was looking at myself, it didn’t feel that way. When I saw Hotch move in the background, I turned to him just in time to feel his hand resting over mine on the metal pail in my hands.

“Can I tell you what I think?” he offered.

“I’d like that.”

I felt the warmth flow through him, bringing life back into a hand that suddenly started to feel like me again. His voice shared the same rejuvenating quality as he quietly but confidently answered, “I think… it’s much less than you think.”

As tears slid down my face, they felt less like the beginning of a downpour and more like the drizzle that follows the storm. I let them fall without wiping them away, hoping that as they fell away, they would take the fear with them.

After they did drip from my jaw, I laughed. I couldn’t hold it in because it seemed so silly how much lighter I felt after losing just a few droplets of saline. But, realistically, I knew it had more to do with his hand still holding mine.

I dropped my head to his shoulder, selfishly stealing his body warmth as I croaked, “Thanks for talking to me. I know I must sound like a stupid kid to you sometimes.”

“Not at all,” he said with that tone that was difficult to discount, “You sound just like you should.”

“Can I tell you something now?” I asked between sniffles.

“I’d like that,” he mirrored.

“You’re like… a really good dad.”

It was his turn to shed tears, then, which he did. They were much manlier and less silly than mine, but they were there. I almost accused him of creating them just to make me feel less embarrassed, but before I could, he’d enveloped me in a hug that was way too genuine to question it.

As I hugged him back, I realized just how badly I’d missed moments like this. I’d fooled myself into really believing that loneliness and independence were the same things for so long that when I was granted the support all human beings need, I didn’t know how to respond.

But that was the beauty of family, right? You don’t have to try to earn their love. They already thought you were worthy.

So I hugged him harder, ignoring the clanking of the machines and the sounds of crowds of people stumbling back from bars in the hall that could walk in any moment. I wasn’t embarrassed to be sad anymore. I was just a person. It happens sometimes.

“Speaking of, it’s well past your bedtime,” Hotch said finally, gracelessly shattering the moment in a very dad-like fashion.

“I walked into that one.”

Following that trend, he continued with a gentle bump of his shoulder against me, “If you don’t want to go yet, you can talk to me about that something more.”

I practically shoved him off me, huffing between chuckles and shaking my head in the hope that he wouldn’t notice how it flushed.

“Please. Spencer talks about that stuff, but he’s all talk.”

At first, Hotch just nodded. But after a few wayward glances, he confessed, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

That time the warmth I felt came from within, carried by butterflies that had burst in my stomach at the thought. I almost asked him what he meant, but then felt the familiar, creeping embarrassment that came along with loving someone a little too much.

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed.

I knew he was reading my expressions, but I couldn’t hide the smile, no matter how hard I tried. He still had the decency to ignore my blatant displays of excitement, instead asking the question we both knew the answer to already.

“Is that something you’d want?”

“I…” Such a simple syllable still seemed like too much, and I stuttered it a few more times before I landed on an answer that wasn’t too humiliating. “I guess he’ll have to ask and find out.”

“I hope it turns out well when he does,” he said, pausing to correct with a sarcastic, “Sorry. If he does.”

“Yeah, me too,” I sighed heavily. It was a last ditch effort to hide the way my cheeks were still stuck in a full-faced smile. I turned to see him with a very similar expression.

I knew just how to change that. When he stood up and offered me a hand, I took it and let him do half the work for me. But once we were on equal footing, I placed my hand on his shoulder with a complacent pat.

“You know, if it doesn’t turn out well, you’ll have to figure out how to comfort the both of us.”

“The horror,” he jokingly cringed with a shake of his head.

I almost left then, but thankfully he’d remembered the actual purpose for the room we’d had our impromptu surrogate-father-daughter moment in. He grabbed my ice pail from my hand and dropped it under the dispenser without saying anything else, letting the chaotic crunching signal the real end of the moment.

Once it was over, I looked down at the now freezing bucket in my hands that suddenly felt warm. Then I looked back up at him and saw a pride that I wasn’t expecting.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” I said as the last remaining bit of tension fell from my shoulders.

“Goodnight,” he answered, opening the door and watching as I padded down the hall. He waited until I slipped back into my room before his door clicked shut, and mine quickly followed.

That tiny sound was just enough to wake the man in the bed, and when I turned to him, the sight took my breath away. Because there was Spencer, the man I loved, reaching his arms out into the darkness and grabbing the empty air as he whined, begging me to come to him faster.

And I did. Tossing the bucket onto the table, I rushed over to him and threw myself into the bed beside him without any grace. With a similar restlessness, Spencer wound his arms around me as soon as I was within his reach, pulling me as close as he could without sacrificing all the air in my lungs.

“I missed you,” he mumbled against my hair.

“Don’t worry. I’m back,” I whispered back. The words were lost in his shirt, but he somehow heard them well enough to ask, “Where did you go?”

I didn’t know how exactly to describe what had happened, so I told one of those lies I’d contemplated earlier. “To get ice,” I said. It wasn’t exactly a lie. It was just a very inefficient summary.

Spencer didn’t care, either. In fact, he giggled at the thought, nuzzling his face down into my neck and tickling me with his lips as he mumbled, “Let me warm you up.”

It did succeed in warming me up, but only because it turned into a fit of giggles and more intense tickling. His fingers danced along my sides and his whispers turned back to the same kisses that we’d started the night with.

But it couldn’t last forever. The poor guy still had only had a couple hours of sleep, and I felt the excitement wear off all at once, leaving him only half-awake on the pillow beside me. He still found the energy to look at me like there were stars in my eyes.

“Where did you really go?” he asked again, dragging his hand over my cheek like he could see the tears I’d shed just a few moments before.

“Just ice. I promise,” I answered, ending the thought with a quick kiss on his palm. When I could tell that he didn’t believe that, I brought my hands up to his face as I snickered, “See? Cold hands.”

Surprisingly, he didn’t flinch. Instead, he just leaned forward, letting our noses touch and pulling me in to him again. His eyes fluttered shut, and I could almost see the way his body started to return to sleep as he barely muttered, “No cold feet, though?”

It took me a moment to register the words, and once I did, I still couldn’t believe them.

“Cold feet for what?” I whispered back.

Spencer’s answer only came in the form of a dreamy laugh. He didn’t open his eyes again, instead choosing to drop his face back into my shoulder just like he had before. This time there were even fewer kisses against my neck before he went still again.

Once again, I was left with my thoughts. Only this time they weren’t scary. Because marrying Spencer Reid was not the worst thing to imagine by far. In fact, there were very few things I’d ever wanted more.

—————————————————

| Part 23 |

[helnjk]

In a Crowd of Thousands - Part 2 // F.W.

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: You never really forget your childhood love. For Princess Y/N of Diagon, hers came in the form of a boy whose dream it was to start a business and support his family. As it goes, life–and her duty to her kingdom–had gotten in the way. She longed to see him again, to see the success she was sure he had achieved. Luckily, fate was on her side.

Warnings: food mention, alcohol mention (champagne, blink and you’ll miss it), gambling mention (it’s a small bet, blink and you’ll miss it again)

A/N: okay but im lowkey proud of this part. this is the last official ‘chapter’ of this mini series, and i’m really excited to share it with y’all hihi xx 

(also also, there’s a bonus part at the end that you don’t have to read but i love it lol)

flashbacks are in italics

Prologue | Part 1

The grand ballroom of the palace was packed with people. 

Princess Y/N of Diagon sighed internally as her eyes swept over its expanse. At 21 years old, she was mere months away from her coronation. And, as tradition dictated, a ball was being held in her honor and she avoided it until the last minute that she could. 

To be quite honest, she thought that the idea of a ‘presentation’ was completely outdated and there was absolutely no need for it. She was more than familiar with her people and she didn’t need this night of frivolity and grandiosity to prove it. 

When Minerva first brought up the idea of having to fake a smile and discuss politics in a stuffy room with a bunch of aristocrats, Y/N immediately rolled her eyes. She knew that it was tradition for her to be ‘presented’ to her kingdom, but she also knew that those invited to the ball would not be able to speak for the majority of her subjects. They would be nobles, far too uptight and far too removed from the masses to know what they would truly need. 

They were exactly the kind of people the princess tried very hard to avoid when she went on her rounds throughout the towns and met with people of all walks of life. 

The Princess was very dedicated to living out her goal of being a fair and just leader. From the moment she turned 16, she made it a point to immerse herself in the lives of those who relied on her for, well, everything. Though, much of the fire under her had to do with the initials etched into the trunk of a tree that stood tall and proud by the banks of the river. 

Her reaction to the news of the ball, however, wasn’t appreciated by her governess. Not that she needed a governess anymore, but Y/N would always be grateful for the strong and steady presence that Minerva had been her whole life. 

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” she defended, crossing her arms over her chest, “Even you know how useless these kinds of things are.” 

Minerva merely shook her head and tried to look stern, “Yes, well, it is tradition, at least try and enjoy yourself. You are not expected to speak with investors and nobles all night, and there will be many opportunities to eat and to dance!” 

“As long as my corset isn’t too tight, I think I can manage an evening with the snooty elite.” 

“My dear I hope you know that you are a part of the snooty elite.” 

True to her word, Y/N managed to get through several conversations without any sarcastic remarks or backhanded compliments. In fact, she found herself enjoying the party much more than she had anticipated. The music was lovely, the food phenomenal, and she daresay her dress was absolutely stunning. 

She was fetching herself a drink when a familiar voice spoke next to her, “Well don’t you clean up nicely, sweetheart.” 

“Lord Black!” the princess exclaimed, turning to him and letting out one of the few genuine smiles of the night. “I wasn’t aware you were going to be attending the ball! If I did, I would’ve stuck by your side the moment I entered.” 

The older man’s eyes crinkled at the compliment and he leant in for a warm hug. 

Sirius Black was one of the only aristocrats that the Princess actually held a fondness for. The moment the pair met at one of the first few meetings the King and Queen had allowed her to attend, Y/N knew that he was of the right sort. 

He came from very very old money, but once his parents had passed and he was given access to the Black fortune and title, he began to make very good changes wherever he could. He was a silent investor in many business ventures, and more often than not, the businesses he chose to support would end up flourishing.

“Anything new and exciting to tell me about?” Y/N asked, taking a sip of her sickly sweet champagne. 

Sirius’ eyes lit up at the question, “I met a very promising pair of brothers–twins, actually. Their minds are as sharp as a knife, and they’ve got the most absurd ideas! Brilliant, but absurd. I think they can make it work.” 

“I’m excited to hear more about them, then.” 

The pair spent a good amount of time chatting away, seeking refuge at one of the emptier tables and settling. This was a great compromise for the Princess, who was hitting two birds with one stone as she spoke to someone she enjoyed the company of as well as someone who was a part of the ‘snooty elite’. 

He spoke about his godson and how he was learning to walk and absolutely terrorizing his parents. In return, she told him about how the coronation planning was driving her up the wall. It felt good to be this open and genuine with someone, especially at a function like the one they were attending. 

Sirius was in the middle of an exciting anecdote about Harry’s adventures with his mother’s makeup when Y/N caught a glimpse of fiery red hair. 

Her heart stopped and leaped simultaneously in her chest.

As if they were being pulled by a magnet, her eyes focused solely on the familiar silhouette weaving in and out of the crowd. Her tunnel vision allowed her to see him and only him, and her mind began to go on overdrive. 

“Princess?” 

She barely registered the older man calling out to her, too distracted by the thought of seeing him again. Of being in the same place as him again. Of finally speaking the words she held in her heart for years to him. 

“Excuse me for a moment,” was all she managed to get out. 

Y/N could hear her blood rushing to her ears as she pushed through the, frankly too many, people in the way of her and her best friend. She didn’t care if she wasn’t behaving in a way that a Queen-to-be should be behaving, she didn’t care about any niceties at the moment. The last few years for her were spent almost completely alone, without her favorite redhead by her side, and she would be damned if she was going to let this opportunity slip through her fingers. 

If she was being honest, time hadn’t done much to settle the grief she felt over the Weasleys moving away. Every little thing had reminded her of Fred and she was ashamed to admit that she wasn’t as open to new relationships–or friendships–because of the lingering feelings she harbored for the twin. 

But now, now she had the chance to finally speak to him after so long. To feel the familiar comfort of his presence, to be herself and not have to worry about being the perfect royal that she was expected to be. 

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. 

Y/N could see Fred, he was right there, only a few steps away with his back turned to her. He was laughing at something the person he was speaking to had said, his whole body shaking with unabashed glee. Someone in front of him called out her name as they saw her approach and she watched as he froze for a fraction of a second before turning on his heel. 

Their eyes met and she paused mid-step. 

The world was coated in molasses now, everything around her moving haltingly slow as they saw each other for the first time in years. All other things in the room melted away as he stepped forward, and suddenly he was standing right in front of her. 

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Hi,” he replied, charmile smile and all, “I told you we’d find each other again, didn’t I?” 

Y/N let out a small laugh, still in shock that Fred was really in front of her. His arms wrapped around her torso in a tentative hug, and she spared no time clinging on to him with a ferocity that surprised even her. It was almost as if she was trying to convince herself he was really and truly there. Luckily for the princess, he had no qualms with how tightly she was gripping onto him. 

When she finally eased her hold, he held out his arm. “Care for a dance, Princess?”

“I’d love to.” 

All eyes were on them as they walked onto the dance floor, clearly not just another pair among the others. Still, Y/N only had eyes for the man in front of her. Her eyes scanned over his features, taking note of the things that changed and the things that didn’t. 

Fred was still her Fred, just older now, more confident. He had an air around him that wasn’t there the last time she saw him. It was a pleasant surprise, though, seeing him so sure of himself as he spun her around. 

Music flowed around them as Y/N was dipped and twirled. She had never felt more like royalty than she had in that moment, dancing with Fred Weasley, her hand in his. Everything around them seemed to melt away as they moved through the dance floor, eyes locked and bodies pressed together. 

Even when the music paused and they left the dancefloor, their hands remained intertwined. 

Slowly, those in attendance began to make their leave. Some passed by the Princess to say their goodbyes and politely thank her for the night, but most knew better than to interrupt her time with someone who was clearly quite important to her. 

Y/N had never been more thankful for the night to be ending. 

“Didn’t know you were so popular, Y/N” Fred teased after another nobleman bid her goodnight.

“I am a Princess after all,” she replied, watching the man leave. 

“And a damn good one, I’ve heard.” 

She turned to look at him, “Been asking around about me, have you?” 

The look he gave her nearly made her swoon. It was full of affection and admiration, taking the princess off guard. 

Instead of answering, he merely cocked his head in the direction of the exit, saying “Fancy a walk through the grounds? I hear it’s been decorated quite beautifully for the night.” 

After spending so much time packed in a crowded room, it was a welcome relief to be in the cool evening air. True to Fred’s word, the gardens looked spectacular. Lights glittered through every little nook and cranny, the soft trickling of water from the fountains filling the air. It felt like something from a fairytale. 

The pair of them walked together in a peaceful silence, sneaking glances at each other every once in a while. It wasn’t until they found themselves in front of the old weeping willow that they paused. 

“Remember this place?” Fred chuckled, his eyes scanning over the draping branches covered in glittering lights. 

“How could I forget?” 

For the first time that night since they had seen each other, Y/N let go of Fred’s hand. She gently moved aside the curtain of leaves in front of them and stepped into their childhood sanctuary. Fred had to take a moment just to take in the sight of her, a vision in the midst of a sea of stars. 

His heart stuttered in his chest. 

“Do you remember what we promised each other here?” he asked again, eyes shifting to the trunk behind her. 

“It’s on my mind more often than not,” she admitted, feeling heat creep up her neck. 

If he noticed how flustered she got, he didn’t comment. Instead, he said, “Me too.” 

Y/N was right in front of the trunk now, running her fingers over the indented wood. Nimble digits pausing when they brushed over their initials. Fred couldn’t see her expression, but he could tell that there were many things running through her mind at that moment. 

“I think I’ve held up my end of the bargain,” his voice filled the quiet air, “George and I have a rather successful shop in town, if I do say so myself.”  

The Princess turned around to face him with a smile, her back to the tree, “I think I’m on my way to fulfilling mine.” 

As they spoke, their bodies slowly inched towards each other, magnets unable to stay away. The air around them was charged, pushing the two together bit by bit. Soon, they were toe to toe, breaths mingling and eyes locking. 

“I think,” Fred whispered, “I think I’m going to fulfill another dream of mine tonight.” 

Time froze as his face dipped close enough for their lips to brush. Y/N let out a soft gasp as he drew close, body abuzz with nervous energy and skin alight with every touch. Fred was there to ease her mind, though, with warm hands at the small of her back and soft lips gently pressing against hers. 

She felt herself melting into his arms, melting into the kiss as if it was what she was born to do. Nothing else seemed to matter at that moment. 

Like waves finding their way back to the shore, crashing into each other the way only the ocean could, somehow Y/N always knew that Fred would always find his way back to her. The mere thought of it brought a smile to her face and she laughed as he kissed into her smile. Once, twice, three times.  

“You are my dream,” Fred whispered once they broke apart, both of them sharing the same dopey grins. 

“And you are mine,” she replied, pressing her palm to his heart. 

–

The clock tower had already struck midnight when Princess Y/N and Fred decided to make their way back to the castle. The night was far too short for their liking, but it comforted them to know that they had the next day (and the next and the next, and so on) for them to spend with each other. 

Their pace remained leisurely as they walked through the familiar place. The castle seemed brand new to the princess now. It was coated in a new light as she looked at it with fresh eyes and a happy heart. She came to the realization that the years spent apart from Fred were far too silent and still without him. Now that she had him by her side, the halls seemed to be filled with happiness and light.

The laughter echoing through the halls and the adrenaline pumping through her as they tried to remain unseen was a welcome feeling. It was familiar, almost intimate in a way. She was thrown back to when they were little and Fred had started teaching her about all the different secrets and passageways the castle had to offer. 

“This way, Princess!” a young boy’s voice whisper-yelled to Y/N’s right. 

She spun towards the direction of the sound to see Fred pulling aside a large tapestry. Behind it was a hallway she had never seen before. Her eyes widened at the sight, but she did not hesitate to duck into it. 

“How did you ever find this place?” she asked, eyes scanning the narrow but comfortable passageway, “And where does it lead to?” 

“I spend a lot of time running away from mother,” Fred shrugged. That earned him a laugh from the princess and he let himself feel smug. “This is a shorter way back up to your room, if you’re ever in a hurry.” 

Now, instead of shortcuts and easy ways to get from one place to the other, the pair found themselves taking their time. Fred would tug on her hand and bring them into an empty alcove, stealing kisses and sharing soft smiles. His body was warm, a comforting presence beside hers, and Y/N found herself leaning against his side more often than not.

By the time they found themselves outside the Princess’ chamber doors, they were giggling like little children, running away from governesses and mothers. 

Y/N’s back was pressed against the door suddenly as Fred’s body enveloped hers in a searing kiss. Her heart beat erratically in her chest as her hands found themselves clutching at his coat. 

Then, as quick as he had come, Fred pulled away with a smirk, “Until we see each other next, Princess?” 

She scoffed, “If you think I don’t have the resources to track you down and kill you for saying that, you’re wrong.”

“I’m only joking,” he grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him once again, “We always find our way back to each other, don’t we?” 

The princess rolled her eyes, but he could see the edges of her lips trying–and failing–not to quirk up. 

BONUS

Sirius watched as the Princess hastily stood up from her seat next to him and hurried off in the direction of Fred Weasley. The same Fred Weasley he had been working with for the past few months. 

He tried not to stare, but it was too tempting not to. His eyes followed the girl as she deftly wove through the throng of people–people who tried to grab her attention to no avail. It was clear that she had a goal in mind and she wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted. 

He watched as they locked eyes, as they shared identical smiles, as they glided through the dance floor and eventually made their way towards the gardens. It was almost ridiculous how elated he felt at the sight. 

The chair beside him made a sound as it was pulled back and he turned to see who had taken a seat beside him. Sirius tried to ignore the man next to him, the man who gave him nothing but a smug smile, but it was useless. 

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, lips quirking slightly. 

“I think you owe me a few galleons,” Remus replied, looking very pleased. He cleaned up quite well in his navy blue suit, and Sirius had to hold back from causing a scene in the middle of a very prestigious ball just so that he could show Remus how much he loved him.  

Sirius rolled his eyes fondly, “So quick to judge the events that transpired this evening, Moony.” 

The look his husband gave him was enough for him to dig into his pockets for a few of the gold coins. Remus held out his hand, opening and closing it in front of him smugly. 

“You know,” Sirius said as he pressed the money into Remus’ palm, “When I made a bet against you, saying I was positive that the woman Fred was in love with was not the Princess, I really thought I was going to win.” 

Remus pressed a kiss on his cheek and smiled, “Never bet against me, love, you’re never going to win.”

Series Taglist: @prismarts​ @snoopydoop1​ @the-romanian-is-bae​ @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @manuosorioh @daltonacademia​​​

General taglist: @expectoevans​ @george-fabian-weasley​ @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles​ @harpyloon​ @nuttytani​ @mesmerisedangel​ @amourtentiaa​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @lumos-barnes​ @cherryweasleys​ @writingsomewrongs​ @the-unmanaged-mischief​ @mrzweasley​ @inglourious-imagines​ @pr3ttysw33t​​ @amrtxntias​ @miraclesoflove @thatlonelyalto​​​​

Weasley twins taglist: @pineapplesandpinas​ @papapapadumb​ @a-castle-of--glass​ @hey-there-angels​ @leovaldez37 @pinkypurplemagic​ @werewolfslut​ @surprizeshawtyy​ @oldschoolkiddo​ @gcdricreads​ @turtletaylor98​ @secret-obsessions​ @weaslxyss​ @serendiipty​ @nojamsonmytoast​ @famdomhideout​ @georgeweasley19​ @asuperconfusedgirl​ @loonylovegood13​ @lumielikesbooks​ @nanahachikyuu​ @freds-slut​​ @theweasleytwinsgirl​​ @ghost3rr @littlemisswitt​​ @astoria-malfcy​ @weasleysprofessionalhoe​​ @freddie-weaselbee​​ @daydreamgirl8​​ @jubilee-the-flying-dragon-pirate​

if your name is crossed out that means i couldn’t tag you! please check your visibility settings​

[jeonsjiddies]

Say You Want Me | ksj (m)

Summary - Reluctantly joining your friend at a party pays off when you end up alone with Seokjin in his apartment and he shows you what you’ve been missing out on.

Word Count - 2953

Pairing - Seokjin x reader

Genre - smut

Warnings - praise kink?, short lived sexual harassment, penetrative sex, oral (f recieving), big dick Jin, soft sex

a/n: another re-write from a previous fandom. :)

“No,” you glared at your friend, crossing your arms.

“But Y/N! I can’t go without you,” MacKenzie whined.

“I won’t tell.”

“It’s not that, Y/N. I need you there.” she pouted. “You’re my moral support.”

“I support you morally… from here,” you sighed, resolve already breaking.

“Please?” she begged, gripping your arm dramatically.

“I hate you,” you hissed and she jumped up and down, squealing.

You only sighed in response, but that didn’t deter MacKenzie. She jumped into action, pulling out clothes for you to review. Most of her clothes left little to the imagination and you felt naked just looking at them.

“This would look amazing on you.”

She held up a black dress with a belt that was shaped like a bow with diamonds on it. The hem was high and the neckline low.

“There’s no way I’m wearing that.”

“Come on, Y/N. Live a little. Maybe a certain Mr. Kim will be there,” she wiggled her eyebrows.

Your friend was well aware of your weakness for Seokjin. You had several classes with the tall boy, and you guys talked often, but weren’t exactly friends. You had a huge crush on him though. Low blow to use them as bait. You grabbed the dress and put it on in the bathroom. You looked in the mirror, looking like a different person entirely. You threw on a light jacket so the outfit wasn’t quite as revealing.

“You look hot,” MacKenzie sing-songed.

“So do you, babe.”

You both split an uber to take you to the party, not wanting to mess with driving in the event that you did end up drinking and she no longer had a designated driver. The closer you got to the party, the more you shook with nerves.

“This is going to be so much fun!” MacKenzie giggled.

You nodded, already wishing you’d stayed home. The uber dropped you off and you could hear the music thumping already. You gulped, pulling your jacket tighter around you.

“MacKenzie and her little wallflower. You made it,” Wonho, who was throwing the party, greeted with a grin.

You waved shyly, surveying your surroundings, where people seemed to have grouped off in cliques. Athletic people were in the kitchen drinking. The artsy crowd were over by the couch, giggling amongst themselves. The “bad” boys were by the TV chatting. Some stragglers danced. You saw Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Hoseok off on their own, and you went to talk to them, following MacKenzie.

“Hey Kenzie, hey Y/N,” they greeted.

You smiled and waved, “hi guys.”

You guys talked for a while (you mostly listened) before you wandered off to get some water. You left your jacket on the chair because the house was getting pretty hot, and you figured no one would pay attention to you without MacKenzie.

“Wow, y/n/ Looking good.” Gi-oh, the local campus fuckboy, slurred as he leaned on you with one arm.

“Thanks…” you said quietly, trying to wiggle out of his grip.

“Where have you been hiding that banging body baby?” he drawled on, one hand drifting to your backside and giving it a squeeze.

“Gi-oh, don’t,” you said, trying again to move away from him but his hand gripped your arm, pulling you in.

“Come on, Y/N. You didn’t dress up like that to be ignored,” Gi-oh argued.

“Stop, please,” you tried yanking your arm free.

“She said no, Gi-oh,” you heard a deep, angry voice behind you.

You turned around, coming face-to-face with Seokjin.

“Back off, freak. Y/N and I are just having a little fun,” Gi-oh rolled his eyes.

“Are you having fun, Y/N?” Jin asked.

“No,” you said quietly.

“Leave her alone. No means no,” Jin growled.

“Fine, you can have her ugly ass. Y/N don’t come crying to me when this bites you in the ass,” Gi-oh huffed, storming away.

“You okay?” Seokjin asked you.

“I’m fine…” you looked at the ground.

“Do you want to get some air? You look flushed.”

“After what happened with Gi-oh I don’t want to be alone out there in the dark,” you kicked at the floor with your shoe, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jin offered.

You looked up at him nervously and nodded slightly.

“If you wouldn’t mind?” you asked.

He nodded, following you out the door and down the driveway.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you nearly whispered, looking down at the ground.

Jin was hot and you were super nervous to be alone with him outside of classes, yet his presence made you feel safe, like nothing and no one could hurt you.

“No problem,” he smiled reassuringly.

You both walked in silence, and you kept glancing over at Jin nervously, feeling more awkward by the second. Jin was a man of few words, unless he was angry, so he wasn’t likely to start a conversation. You normally thrived in silence. Comfortable silence. This was awkward silence. It was driving you insane.

“Sorry you’re missing out on the party because of me.”

“I didn’t want to be there anyway,” he shrugged with a light chuckle.

“Why’d you come then?” you asked.

“Namjoon and Hoseok,” he explained.

“Your friends dragged you along too,” you smiled.

“Seems to be a recurring theme,” he glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twisting up.

You shivered as a chilly breeze flew past, cursing yourself internally for leaving your jacket at the party. Jin looked at you for a moment before shrugging his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Won’t you get cold?” you asked.

“I’ll be fine. Can’t let a pretty lady freeze to death, now can I?” his eyes twinkled.

Your cheeks burned hot and you hid your face but you were sure Jin could tell from the glow of the street lamps but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t miss the smirk that played on his lips though.

“I...thank you.” you managed to say quietly.

“Just callin’ it as I see it, princess,” Jin chuckled.

You hadn’t noticed you’d been walking long enough to be almost to the end of the Northside. You slowed down, looking around. The beautiful dark sky had lost its pretty diamond stars magical glow and storm clouds had replaced them.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“Edge of town, didn’t notice we’d gone this far,” Jin answered.

The first drop of rain fell right on Jin’s forehead, and it started sprinkling, slowly turning into a heavier rain.

“Fuck, we’d better get inside somewhere,” Jin said, glancing around at all the closed signs on businesses.

“How far away are we from the party?” you asked.

“Like, 6 miles.”

“We’re gonna get soaked,” you frowned.

“My place is only a half mile from here,” he shrugged.

“Your place? You live alone?” you asked.

Jin nodded and the rain started pouring.

“Lead the way!” you shouted over the drumming of the water on the pavement.

He took off running, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him so you didn’t fall behind with your much shorter legs. You struggled to keep up as he led you to his apartment complex and unlocked the door to his unit, ushering you inside. You stood by the door, trying to squeeze the water out of your hair. Jin shook his head like a wet dog. You froze, not sure what to do, rocking back and forth on your feet.

“Do you want some water? Maybe some dry clothes?” Jin offered, gesturing to your soaked dress.

“Would you mind? I’m kind of cold,” you let out a nervous giggle.

“Sure.” he disappeared into the bedroom, re-emerging in dry clothes, holding out a flannel shirt and some shorts for you.

“I think the shorts might be too big but the shirt is pretty long, so…” he trailed off.

“Thank you,” you took the clothes and went to the bathroom to change.

You stripped off your wet dress and pulled Jin’s shirt onto your body. It was almost as long as the dress. Your hair fell in damp waves after you’d rung it out and brushed through it. You cleaned up some of your running makeup and tried on the shorts, but they fell right off and you didn’t have a hair tie to make them stay. You hung your dress over the shower rod to dry then turned to look at yourself in the mirror and you felt kind of… sexy. Standing there in Jin’s shirt covering your body until mid-thigh, you looked hot. You walked out of the bathroom, immediately feeling less confident until you saw Jin’s split second double take. You coughed nervously and looked down.

“The shorts were too big,” you explained, handing them back.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his eyes raking up and down your body before snapping out of it and clearing his throat.

“So… what now?” you asked.

“It’s still pouring so I guess wait out the storm here?” he asked.

“Sure.” you smiled.

“Ummm… do you want to play a game or watch a movie or something?” he asked.

“We can play a game.” you smiled, sitting down and making sure you were covered up.

“Never have I ever or truth or dare?” he smirked.

“Ummm.. never have I ever,” you decided.

“Drinking version?” he lifted an eyebrow.

“Not in your best interest,” you laughed.

“Alright then, hold up your fingers,” he instructed.

You held up both hands, showing all ten fingers.

“Never have I ever read a fashion magazine.” Seokjin started.

You put one finger down.

“Never have I ever joined a frat,” you grinned, watching him frown before putting his finger down.

“Never have I ever read a romance novel,” he smirked.

You giggled and put your finger down.

“Never have I ever played beer pong,” you shot back.

Jin put down a finger, then thought for a moment.

“Never have I ever shaved my legs,” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and put a finger down.

“Never have I ever been in a fight,” you said.

Jin put his finger down.

“Never have I ever had sex with a guy,” he grinned.

You sat there awkwardly.

“Wait, are you into girls?” he asked.

You shook your head, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re a virgin?” he gaped.

You looked down and nodded.

“That’s insane. Is it a personal choice?” he asked.

“Kind of? I haven’t met anyone I want to have sex with that feels the same,” you explained.

“Who in their right mind would pass up that opportunity?” he shook his head.

You looked away and giggled.

“Never have I ever kissed someone,” you said, keeping the game going.

“WHAT? No one has kissed you?! Y/N this is a travesty!” he squawked.

“Volunteering as tribute?” you joked.

“Damn straight I am.”

“Wait, what?” your eyes bugged out.

“I’d gladly kiss you,” he clarified.

“Really?” you tried to hide the hope in your voice.

Your stomach was in knots, butterflies wreaking havoc when he said, “yes.”

“Okay,” you barely whispered.

Jin scooted closer to you, glancing from your eyes to your lips as the anticipation increased. You were nothing but nerves as he cupped your face in both of his large hands, calloused fingers gingerly rubbing along your skin. Jin leaned in, closing his eyes. Holy shit, this is happening. Jin’s plush lips barely brushed yours, a featherlight touch, but your heart stopped. He kissed you for real, pressing his lips against your own firmly, and your whole world spun out of control. You were dizzy and full of joy and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on this. You felt like time had stopped. Jin pulled away, looking into your eyes like he was searching for something.

“Wow, if I’d known kissing felt like that I’d have done it sooner,” you broke the silence.

“It doesn’t,” he said in awe, “it never feels like that.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

In a flash, Jin crashed his lips to yours again and you fell back with the impact, Jin hovering over you on the couch. You wound your hands in his hair as he deepened the kiss, hands all over your body. You felt like a light switch had been turned on, and you were warm all over. You moaned into Jin’s mouth as his hands grazed your inner thigh.

“If you keep that up I won’t be able to stop myself,” Jin warned.

“Then don’t,” you said, looking into his eyes, “don’t stop.”

His eyes darkened and he studied you for a moment.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” he asked.

You nodded.

“I need to hear you say it. Say you want me,” he purred in your ear.

“I want you Seokjin, so badly,” you whined.

That was all it took.

Jin ripped his shirt over his head, then with ridiculously quick and talented fingers, unbuttoned the flannel you were wearing, exposing your body to him. He licked his lips, eyes wandering along your smooth skin. Jin wasted no time, tossing the shirt off somewhere in the room and attacking your neck with love bites. You moaned his name, spurring him on. He unclipped your bra in record speed, his tongue instantly finding its way to your nipples, causing you to arch your back off the couch.

“This is your first time. It shouldn’t be here,” Jin mumbled, picking you up bridal style in nothing but your panties, carrying you into his bedroom and placing you gently on top of the covers.

You watched as he undid his belt and slid his pants off, only in his boxers as his body hovered over yours once more. Jin slowed down his assault, reminding himself this was a special moment for you, and he wanted it to be a good memory. He kissed and sucked on your neck, collarbone, your breasts, giving every inch of your skin attention.

“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N. So pretty,” he cooed in your ear, “I’m gonna make you feel so good baby, you’ll never forget this night. You’re going to feel me inside you for weeks after this, I promise.”

You squirmed at his dirty words, watching him.

“Prove it.”

Jin lifted an eyebrow, then started kissing down your stomach, skipping where you really wanted him entirely, and nipping at your inner thighs, massaging them each time. You leaned your head back, reveling in the feeling. You should’ve started having sex ages ago, this was amazing. Or maybe it was just Seokjin.

You were so lost in your thoughts, it took you by surprise when Jin’s tongue dived inside your aching heat and you groaned as his tongue licked figure 8’s on your clit, fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. It felt so good to be touched by Seokjin. Of course you’d touched yourself over the years, but fuck it felt so much better when Jin did it. He was electrocuting you in the best way possible. You were so close to losing it when Jin halted his efforts and reached for the condom. He pulled his boxers down, exposing his rock hard cock and your eyes widened. He was huge. He had such a pretty cock though, you weren’t surprised. All of him was pretty.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Seokjin confirmed.

“Yes. I want you so bad, Jin,” you said, taking his hand and pulling him closer, “I’m glad it’s you.”

Jin smiled, kissing you gently and sliding into you, pausing to let you adjust when you hissed. Jin was big, you knew that even with your limited experience, and it kind of burned. The burning subsided and you gave him the okay to move, and once he did, you lost your mind. Every time Jin moved inside you, you felt like you were going to explode with pleasure. Each thrust felt significantly better than the last. He went slow, murmuring sweet things in your ear and taking his time, making sure you were comfortable.

“Fuck Jin,” you moaned.

You were so close, on the edge of bliss, and Jin could tell. He sped up, moving in and out of you a little rougher, only once he knew you could handle it. It didn’t take long after he sped up for you to lose it. You screamed his name, clinging to his body and scratching at his shoulders. You were flying, floating, burning, dying inside. It felt like nothing you’d ever experienced in your life. You could die a happy woman if this was the last thing you ever did. You couldn’t even suck in a breath, your whole body was shaking from the immaculate pleasure coursing through you. Jin rode you through your high, milking it for all it was worth before spilling into the condom himself, then flopping next to you, exhausted. After you both calmed down and found your normal breathing again, Jin looked over at you and found you watching him.

“Not to be ‘that girl’ but… what are we now? Are we just friends, or-” you began.

“No. I want you to be mine. I don’t want to think about you begging for anyone else, being touched by anyone else. Will you be mine?” he asked.

“Yes,” you rushed out, tackling him in little kisses.

You both cuddled for a while, and you changed your relationship status online, begging Seokjin for a couples selfie. He said no about 15 times before you wore him down, fixing your hair as best you could before snapping the photo and posting it online, tagging Seokjin in it. You commented underneath.

@sugaflake thanks for making me go out tonight, it was definitely worth it. <3

[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 2

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: None, just more fuel to the fire. Fluff!!

A/N: Honestly this was fun to write, stay on the look out for chapter 2.5 -winks-

“Neville?!”

(Y/n) walked around the boy, taking in his appearance. She almost couldn't believe it was him. The lanky, tall, awkward boy she spent her days pining over had truly blossomed and from the looks of it, turned into a flower truly worth attention. Part of her almost didn't believe it was him but the cadence of his voice combined with the soft look in his eyes was more than enough confirmation. She'd recognize them anywhere.

The boy nodded, a small smile gracing his face as he held his arms open, inviting him into the warmth of his embrace. She accepted it gladly, sighing as she relaxed into them, squeaking a bit as she felt her feet leave the ground. Relaxing a bit, the girl closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around him tighter. 'Just like I remember..'

"Pardon?" He asked, causing her to tense as he sat her down. Had she said that out loud? If she had she certainly hadn't intended on doing so.

"N-nothing!" She started as she made her way back behind the counter, using her distance to admire his appearance. Twyla nudged her, still eyeing up the dangerous looking men.

"Geez (Y/n), and here I was thinking you were a complete prude. Who would've thought that you knew such hot guys!" She said, biting her lip as she eyed up the red head. The shorter girl crushed her foot, glaring up at her employee. She yelped but quieted up, staring down at her boss

"To be fair, I haven't seen any of them in 3 years. And plus, none of them looked like this during our years at Hogwarts." Her eyes drifted to the rings on Neville's thick tattooed hands. "I apologize for it taking me so long to recognize you, Nev. I hope I didn't make things too awkward."

"You're quite alright, petal. I'm not the same man I was when you went to school with me." He sighed, looking out the window into the distance as he adjusted his tie. "I've changed quite a bit."

(Y/n) could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn't just referring to his new (but most certainly not unwelcomed) appearance, but he had been through some things as well. As much as she wanted to ask him about the things he had seen and the things he had done, she knew now wasn't the time. Neville had always been private about how he felt, that was another thing that clearly hadn't faded. She reached across the counter, placing her hand on top of his as she offered him a smile.

"So, how's life been treating ya? From the looks of it, I'd assume good?" She asked, watching as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. He went to speak but Twyla cut him off.

"Yeah, you look like you've got money! How'd you get so rich?" She leaned forward, eyes squint as she eyed them all. "What're you like loan sharks or something?"

"Something of the sorts." The redhead responded, nodding as he spoke. However (Y/n) was in shambles, she gaped at her friend, giving her a pissed look.

"Twyla you can't just go around asking people if they're rich!" She hissed out, going to tell her off but stopped as she felt a hand on top of hers. Neville chuckled some, patting her hand a few times.

"It's fine, 's only natural to be curious. And to answer your question…" he trailed off as if he was looking for an answer. "We work a less...desirable form of work. Lots of things people normally wouldn't wanna do."

"Yeah lots of paperwork. You wouldn't wanna hear about it, trust me." The freckled brunette finally spoke up. He held his hand out for the (h/c) haired girl to shake which she shook. "Seamus Finnigan."

"Oh! Your Nev's best friend, yeah? I remember during one of our herbology classes we had to leave because you blew something up." She began to giggle at the memory, trying to stifle some brasher laughter. "I don't know how you manage to do that with a plant. I'm (Y/n)." Seamus stepped back, clearing his throat as his face tinted a dark rouge.

"Oh trust me, we know. The bos- Neville would never shut up about you. Sometimes he still doesn't, going on about how he wonders what you're up to. Maybe running into you like this will shut him up a bit." The ginger spoke up, offering her a nod of acknowledgement. "Ron Weasley."

"Well it's clear who the lover boy here is swooning for but what about you two? Are you single?" Twyla asked, stepping from around the corner. The three of them began to converse, leaving the two former acquaintances to be amongst themselves.

"I'm sorry about her. She's got no filter on her mouth." She said, laughing to clear the stiffness to clear the air. He joined her, his familiar dopey smile on his face.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it, really." He sighed, looking around the bakery. "You got a job in a bakery like you always wanted! I'm happy for you, truly." She could feel the sincerity in each of his words. During her time at Hogwarts, Neville had been kind enough to be the one to sample her baking all the time while encouraging her to follow her dreams. Having him in her bakery was enough to make her heart burst.

The girl felt her face heat up as she shrugged, smiling at him sheepishly. "Actually, I don't just work here, I uh," she looked back at him as he had his focus on her, engaged as every, "I own it."

His eyes widened as he gasped, a mix of happiness and shock on his face. "Really? That's even better!" Neville's eyes wandered along the different treats and such in the display table, looking at them in awe at the variety of things. Each item was different than the other and yet they all worked together. "I see you're still as creative with your flavors. You are a true artist, (Y/n)."

"I-I wouldn't go that far. I'm just doing what I love and I couldn't be happier." She squeezed the man's hand, trying to ignore the burning in her cheeks and ears. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you. Whenever my parents would send me those awful howlers, you'd be right there to lift me back up."

He felt his eyes gloss over but blinked back his tears, clearing his throat as he unwillingly ripped his gaze from hers. "Wait- are those the chocolates? The ones with the brownie pieces in them?! I've been thinking about these for ages!" He exclaimed. If it weren't for the fact she was still nervous, she would've found humor in the giant, tattoo covered man freaking out about her coco brownie chocolates. 

"I remember you used to give them to me every valentine's day. We'd take them up to the astronomy tower and share them together." He sighed dreamily at the memory. "You were such a good friend for that!"

Right. Friends, that's what they were if you could even call them that. They rarely hung out with each other outside of school except for Valentine's day. She had originally gifted him the chocolates as a way to show how she felt about him but for some reason or another, he didn't realize the meaning behind them. She didn't correct him either. The way she saw it was any time she got with Neville was good time to her and that's all that mattered.

"Yeah...did you want me to pack some up for you?" She asked, reaching back for an empty box before leaning down, filling the box with the rest of the chocolates. "Here. My treat."

“Are you sure? I couldn’t possibly just take these from you! You’ve got a business to run here.” He responded, pushing the box back towards her. However, she pushed them right back, shaking her head.

“I’m positive! Think of it as an IOU for all those late night cram sessions during 7th year.” she wasn’t really giving them to him for that reason. Saying that though was just easier than saying ‘Hey take these, I’ve been in love with you for 5 years.’ and to be fair, she wasn’t in the mood for rejection. (Y/n) found herself being disappointed that even after all these years, she was conveying the way she felt for him through sweets. Anytime she went to say how she felt it was quickly just replaced with some excuse along the lines of ‘needing him to sample something’ when in reality, she knew her baking was good. But, there was just something so fulfilling from the way he’s eyes would light up whenever she’d give it to him, leaving the heart felt note in her pocket. 

“Thank you.” he smiled, taking them in his hands, acutely aware of the way her fingers were on his. He felt his face flush as he looked up at her, finding her eyes were already on his. “Listen (Y/n), I was wondering if you’d like to-” his words were cut short by the sound of a phone ringing. Shortly after Ron came up, whispering something in his ear which caused his soft expression to turn into stone. He gave him a nod, taking the box and ending the contact. “I’ve gotta get going. Duty calls! I’ll see you again soon, yeah?” he muttered something under his breath smiling at her before turning around and leaving the bakery. 

“Soo, what’s going on between you and the tall one?” Twyla questioned, sneaking another cookie from the display counter (which didn’t go unnoticed). (Y/n grabbed it from her hands, putting it back in the glass case as she rolled her eyes.

“First of all, you work at this bakery, not eat here. And second, nothing!” the blue haired girl gave her a look that screamed ‘bullshit’ which she simply chose to ignore. “He’s an old friend of mine and…”

“Andd?” she urged, using her hands to motion for her to continue. (Y/n) huffed, crossing her arms across her chest as she looked to the side.

“And my old crush. But I promise the only feelings we ever had in common were platonic ones!” she leaned over the counter, watching as his figure disappeared into the distance. A wave of regret fell over her wishing she had done something, anything to be able to see him again. She knew the reason he probably didn’t ask for her number was due to the fact that during her time at Hogwarts, she didn’t use a smart phone. It was something she had gotten into as of recent. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have asked for his.

“That looked like a lot more than platonic to me.” the green eyed girl sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her chest as she spun around. “Love is in the air with you two! I can feel it, you know I’ve got a 6th sense for these sorta- woah! Look at the tip he fucking put in the jar!” she exclaimed, reaching her hand into the jar.

 (Y/n) gasped, eyes widening as she looked at the three hundred dollar bills in the girls hand. ‘I kinda wish I had just let him pay..’ she thought to herself. She grabbed the bills, holding them up in the light to check the authenticity. She knew Neville would never give her fake money but it was almost hard to believe that he had given it to her without hesitancy. When had he even done that?

“I told you they have money! I mean, did you see the ring he had on? The big skull one with the sapphire eyes?” she asked, watching as her boss shook her head. “There’s only 3 of those in the world! It’s a hefty price for one of them. They must be really good at what they do!”

“Since when do you know about fashion?” (Y/n) asked, causing Twyla to let out a dramatic gasp. 

“I’ll have you know I went to one of the most elite fashion schools in the wizarding world thank you very much!” (Y/n) eyed her suspiciously causing her to let out a sigh. “Okay I give up, I just shagged a guy who did. However I did steal his books!”

“Whatever.” she giggled out, walking over to hand a menu to a regular that walked in. She knew he didn’t need it but it was still common courtesy. “I just wonder what he was going to say before he left…”

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

As the sun began to set, (Y/n) flipped the sign to closed, closing the blinds. Although Wednesdays were their slow days, that didn’t mean they still didn’t get customers. There was also an unexpected lunch rush due to a conference being held in the hotel a few blocks over. Walking over to a cushion, she sat down relaxing into the softness of the chair. Her eyes shot open at the sound of the backroom door slamming open.

“You wanted excitement didn’t you?” her worker asked, causing her to nod cautiously. “Well get ready. We’ve got plans this weekend! Hope you’re ready for a much needed shopping trip.”

PREVIOUS||NEXT

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @beewitchedlou @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

[seraphemin]

wish I were (pt4)

  harry calls reader drunk to pick him up, later on finding him sat at her piano and playing a little song

masterlist

‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST, swearing, fluff WORD COUNT - 4,418

_________________________________________________________

   Just fine is how I was feeling. I was lucky enough to be able to get started straight away with a new song to work on from a different artist. Practicing new instruments and talking to new clients have been what I've thrown myself into for the past 3 weeks.

Though drowning myself into work has kept me busy and given me excuses to ignore the hundreds of calls and texts from Harry, it felt like months had pass instead of only one. I seem to forget more about them and only remember the look on his face when I turn my back on him and left. Instead of memorizing chords and words, my brain can only comprehend the words we said and the last time I felt his touch or embrace. When I want to remind myself of what he did, the moment on the balcony is the first thing that comes to my mind and I curse myself for it.

I missed him, of course I did. As I sit in front of my laptop with an opened tab on a recording program, I am instead met with another creator's block and thinking about Harry again. Two points of thought that I hate being stuck in at the moment. The empty bags and containers of snacks and my dinner surround me and I'm wrapped in a blanket while a sad playlist is playing on spotify. It was a depressing sight.

But I can only image the state that Harry's in. After everything, I still miss and care about him, wondering if he's excited about the album release tomorrow or if he's hydrated and taking the fact that I've chose to walk out of his life better than I am. It's pathetic really, but it's part of it and I can only hope to learn to live without him through time. If that is something I can even think of doing in the first place.

He hasn't called or text throughout the whole day though. I didn't want it to bother me but it did, even if it was time away that I'm asking for. I glanced at the black screen of my phone, pressing the button to turn it on. 12:23 AM and no notifications.

'i do love you, i'm sorry' one day ago. This is a good sign. This should be a good sign.

I sighed, forcing myself to turn away from my phone and focus on finishing this piece. The instrumentals are there and the rhythm is set, but coming up with lyrics prove to be difficult when I feel physically and emotionally drained.

It was late anyways. I would of been asleep by now to get ready for tomorrow, but it was most likely made clear I wouldn't be celebrating with the gang. I told Jeff the excuse that I had a meeting up north for the valid reason, even though everyone already knows what happened between the two best friends. A lunch with Sara and Mitch a week ago started off normal and pleasant as always, but had ended with Mitch bringing up Harry and me leaving abruptly.

"He's a mess. Hasn't left his house and has been ignoring everyone all week. We don't know what really happened between you two, but it's obvious that you haven't been the same as well."

The mention was enough to irk me. "Can we not right now?"

"Look even though we care about you, it's still non of our business to get involved. But it's still our jobs to see that when someone we care about is bothered by something, we make sure they are aware of it. Both of you aren't happy and should simply talk about it."

"It's not that simple Sara, he's too stubborn."

"It doesn't have to be now, but eventually. You yourself know that what you two have is way too special to just walk away from."

"Yeah well what if it's not? What if it's just not what everyone expects it to be? That even if we somehow make it work throughout everything, he's just going to run off to someone else again who'll just be better in so many ways."

"He's not the type of person to do that and you know it."

"I thought I did."

With my head rested on my hand, I feel my eyes droop. The instrumental of the song played on repeat on the program as I try to come up with words. Heartbreak and insecurities are the only topics that come to mind with the upbeat sound. I close my eyes for bit, letting the first stage of sleep take it's toll while my brain works overtime producing lines of rhymes.

But my ringtone drives me out of it. I only force my eyes open when I pick up my phone and answer the call, not thinking of who could be the only possible human being to call me at this hour. I sighed, pausing the recording and saving it. "Hello?"

"Hiiiii love! Karl told me I should call someone because I've had too much apparently. Can you please tell him that I'm a grown man that can handle my alcohol?" Shit.

"Harry- wait hold on, you're drunk now? Don't you have... who are you with?" My voice was tired and already raspy. It took longer than needed to process what was actually happening.

"Oh just all by my lonesome self at first... imagined you here a few times but I know that wasn't true, but Karl the bartender is here now!" His voice was muffled and almost drowned out by the sound of a pub. His words were slurred and I can only rub my temples at the situation he's already put me in.

"Why did you call me for this."

"Well my phone's dead and you're the number I memorized." He said softly after hearing my tone. I shouldn't, but he's drunk and alone.

"I'll call Mitch-"

"Only want you. Please?" I can imagine him pouting and I was too tired to argue with him.

"I can't do this right now..."  

"Bubs, my head is starting to hurt and everyone is not being nice. Except Karl, Karl is a nice dude."

Maybe if I wasn't overworked and sleep deprived at the moment, I would of been in the righter state of mind. But the other half of me that worried about his state took the opportunity to see him once again.

"Where are you, Harry?"

***

It was easy to find a drunk Harry Styles at a pub. A small local one that we've been too once or twice in the past, enjoying each other's company over a glass after studio hours. And there he was again, sat at the stools we'd sit on and wallowing to Karl the bartender.

"Hey." I placed a hand on his shoulder after making my way through the small crowd that gathered around him that's been listening into his conversation. His eyes light up when he turns around and sees me, while I take in how disheveled he looks. His curls are messy and his bloodshot baggy eyes tells me he's been crying for a while.

"You're here." He mutters softly after he takes a moment to register that it's actually me. I only give him a small nod in confirmation, feeling that heart ache as he pulls me into a hug. "I'm sorry." I hear when he nuzzles into my neck, most likely apologizing when he sees how tired and unwell i am as he does.

"It's okay, come on let's get you home." I managed to let out, pulling away, guiding him out of his seat and away from the bar. "Oh okay, bye Karl! Keep the change." I send the bartender a grateful smile to which he returns with a pity look on his face.

"Just hold my hand Harry okay?" I tell him when I remember how clingy he gets when intoxicated. He doesn't hesitate to do so as we make our way through the crowd and out of the building.

I managed to get him in the passenger's seat without much interaction, now in the driver's seat and cursing at myself when I realized I didn't have enough gas to take him to his house. I didn't have the energy to go to the gas station this late.

"Are you crying..." He asks, pouting when I placed my face in my hands, taking deep breaths. "Please don't be sad, love." I shook my head, counting in my head as I felt Harry lean over and watch me.

"How many did you have?" I asked when I built up the will not to cry and turned on the ignition.

"Didn't bother counting, didn't matter." I kept my eyes in front of me as I drove while I felt his still on me.

"I would beg to differ. Shouldn't be my responsibility anyways." I quickly countered, noting the sharp tone in my voice and the frown I could imagine on his face.

"I'm sorry...I really wanted to see you."

"Hmm, and getting wasted and being an inconvenience is the way to get my attention." There was a second of silence and I glanced at him to check if he was still conscious, only to see that frown and his head hung in shame. My eyes trailed to the pearl necklace tucked into his sweater, as well as a yellow ribbon tied where it clasps together.

The grip I had on the wheel loosened but I sighed as I hated how guilty I felt after, aware how difficult it was to be mad when he was hurt. "That was harsh..."

"Nooo, I deserve it. I really do because I was mean to you and I don't ever want to be mean to you. Because it hurts me too ya know? More than it did when you walked away...I'm sorry that I hurt you."

I didn't say anything after that, spending the rest of the car ride back to my place in silence.

***

"You don't have to be rich, to be my giiirl. You don't have to be cool to rule my wooorld..."

My annoyance conflicted with the flutters my heart was feeling as Harry was softly singing all the way from my car to my sofa, hand held and clinging to my side the whole time. He plopped down, immediately taking a pillow. "Ain't no particular sign, I'm more compatible wiiith- hey you have that record right? Can you put it on pretty please?"

"It's 2AM, I'm not putting on a record right now." I took off my shoes and coat, graciously doing the same for him when he pouts and rests his head back on the couch. "Aw, you used to not care about that before. Is it because of your neighbors terrible taste of music to blast so late at night?"

"What?" I rubbed my eyes, standing up and going to the kitchen. I couldn't hear his mumbled response, but I returned with a glass of water to see him humming with his eyes closed. He cuddled the pillow close to him and I rolled my eyes, almost laughing at how he was tapping his foot along with the song he was playing in his head.

"Here..." He holds his hand out expectantly and I gave it to him. He takes a drink while I place his coat over the coffee table and go to get him an extra pillow and blanket.

"Oh everything hurts." He whines as I place the pillow down on the end of the couch. "My heart mostly, but that's so cheesy of me isn't it? Yours probably hurts more m' sorry...wish I could take it away."

It wasn't just his naïve words that had my eyes start welling up with tears, but it was also the realization of how he can easily break me down. I couldn't last a whole month without being there when he needs someone, when I was the one who wanted to leave. It was also probably the realization that I had grabbed the same blanket we used to set that little picnic in the studio.

"Wish I didn't cause it in the first place." He added, which led to me sitting down on the chair next to the couch, holding onto the blanket a little longer as delirium was starting to set in.

"I don't think we should have this conversation now, Harry... this is so unfair." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

"It is, but I'm scared I won't get another chance." My silence gave him the answer he was already aware of.

"What exactly do you want another chance of Harry, enlighten me." I closed my eyes for a minute, only to open them to see Harry looking at me in a different way. It's different, but I've noticed it before.

"Loving you." He's hesitant with his next words, most likely having sobered up a little. "I hadn't seen Heather for a few days after you left, told her later on about what happened. Took your advice though, talked to her and everything. It just wouldn't work out in the end...couldn't see myself with her in the future."

"But now you do with me?" I softly muttered, holding myself back from reaching out to him. He only nods, having that guilty look on his face because he's fully aware he doesn't deserve it. My droopy eyes are glued to his and that damn pearl necklace, too many thoughts in my head to come up with one whole response.

"Should of just called Mitch. You're an idiot for giving yourself a hangover on your release day." I finally said after a moment of silence.

"Hmm? Oh that, no that's not happening." He says casually, playing with the embroidery on the pillow he was hugging.

"What do you mean?"

"I've postponed the album thingy indefinitely or something."

"Aren't you finished with it?"

"I mean it's got 12 songs and everything but I don't know if it's really finished, I don't know." He shrugs and I'm almost annoyed by how calm nonchalant he is about it.

"You never know things Harry."

"And I hate it, I knooow! I don't know why I can't just figure it out and I hate that I'm hurting you because of it." He frowns, rubbing his eyes. "But I do know now that I love you. Really love you. Maybe if I figured that out sooner, you wouldn't hate me bubs."

I fiddle with my fingers, given up on trying to collect all my thoughts together a long time ago as I can only allow myself to take in his words and listen. He was right, in any other situation where I wasn't tired and delirious, I probably wouldn't even be in the same room as him. So here I was again, allowing myself to hurt in order to make sure he's taken care of.

Maybe it's what I deserve though. He left Heather because of me. I caved into myself at the though that I ruined the relationship of two people who loved each other simply because I didn't get the memo. She is everything in his eyes, he's proven that, so why didn't I just leave them be?

"Ugh, you probably hate me calling you that now but you know I won't stop cause you are my bubs! Like how I'm you're H. Oh... well, you stopped calling me that so...maybe not anymore but I want to be. Can I be your H again please, I miss that too." My thoughts were cut off  when he continued, finding him now lying down with his eyes closed.

"Maybe one day." I reassured him hesitantly. We would of stayed friends, we wouldn't of had to fall apart, if I had just left him alone.

"Was a weird nickname anyways, just a letter." He mumbles as I stood up, laying the blanket over him while he still holds onto the pillow.

"You sort of gave it to yourself though, get some sleep Harry."  I managed to get out, facing away from him to hide the tear that fell. He should be trying to fix his relationship with her and not me.

"Yeah, but you just started calling me it and I fell in love with it." I take one more look at him before I shut my door, seeing his face nuzzled into the pillow and the glint of a small smile on his face as he drifts off to sleep.

***

8:23. I slept around 2 and woke up 7 hours later to faint piano keys. I took in the soft melody, not recognizing it but enjoying it for a second before I forced myself to sit up and rub my eyes, realizing how dry my skin was from crying. It was definitely a sad song made up of only four chords and a fitting way to start the day as I remember the person who is most likely playing it.

I didn't want to face him, my head feeling too mushed to deal with anything else other than work. It was a weird situation to realize, the man I fell in love with and broke my heart is playing piano after I took him in when he was drunk. He tells me he officially breaks up with Heather after realizing he loves me.

He loves me?

No he doesn't. He should still love her, should be trying to get back to her now that I'm out of the picture. But he hasn't been trying too for the past month, focused on me this whole time. But why?

I snapped myself out of those thoughts quickly, knowing how terrible the following ones would be. I didn't want to think about it anymore, wanting to forget and move on. And as I quietly open my door and peaked out onto my apartment, I see his mess of curls sat on my keyboard with the blanket wrapped around him. He was considerate enough to lower the volume at least.

I took a deep breath and walked out quietly, leaning against the door frame as I continue to listen. "Part of the album, has some of your lyrics in it." He says when he notices my presence.

"Hmm. You told me that you've postponed it." I crossed my arms as he finishes the song with a long note. I see him nod, now looking down at his hands on his lap before adjusting the blanket to fully encase him.

"Yeah I did. It didn't feel right, putting something out there that I should be proud of, but you not being there to be happy with. You not wanting too in there first place, when you put your heart and soul into it, all because of me."

I frown, looking away from him when his intense eyes met mine. "It's too early Harry..."

"You told me it wasn't a good time last night too, so when is?" He huffs and I roll my eyes.

"I don't know after I have my fucking coffee?" I scoffed, uncrossing my arms and heading towards the kitchen. I hear him sigh, not saying anything else as I prepare a cup for myself, already annoyed and stressed out. I felt him staring at me while I avoided making eye contact, rubbing my temples.

"I'm sorry if I was trouble." He says, still sat down on the keyboard with the blanket wrapped around him.

"You're sorry for a lot of things." I sighed, pouring coffee into my cup.

"I am. But I don't know how to really apologize to you when you won't even let me talk to you."

I placed my cup down, suddenly forgetting about my coffee and finally looked at him. "Well what do you expect Harry? After everything you think I'm just going to trust you again? I told you I was done, I wanted to walk out of your life."

"But you picked me up. You still care, that still has to means something." He's frustrated now, desperate even and it only frustrates me more.

"Ah yes, decent morality to not leave an A list celebrity drunk in room full of strangers. That really dumb of you to do by the way, without any bodygaurds- what were you thinking?" I said, noticing how he was fiddling with the pearls that hung around his neck.

"The past month has been hell for me and all I wanted to do was see you. I feel so fucking guilty and sad and it's eating me up because I know I don't deserve any sort of reassurance from you. But at the same time, I so badly just want you back and I'm sorry for how selfish and arrogant I am." He was crying and I soften a little because of it. He tries holding it in, looking down as he quickly wipes away the tears that fall. I don't bother hiding mine anymore, having gotten used to it by now and I was tired of it.

"I've been in pain since December. Four months that you put me through so can blame me when I just want it to stop? I am so exhausted because no matter how much I throw myself into work, all I can think about is you and loving you."

"But I love you too, shouldn't that be enough to try again?" It should of been and he knows. Maybe if he realized it sooner, during his birthday, things would be different.

"You've proven that it's not." I say disappointingly, willing myself to walk over and sat down next to him, looking ahead at my piano in front of me. "I don't know what to do anymore Harry. Why can't you let me have this? Let me move on."

"Cause you and I both know we can't leave each other, too emotionally attached. I need you in my life bubs, everything sucks when you're not in it." I laugh a little at that, because it was true in a fucked up way.

"That's so unfair, why did you have to hurt me?" I hesitantly lay my head on his shoulder before he droops the other end of the blanket around me.

"I know most of my relationships don't last. Deep down I've always loved you but I couldn't let myself fall for you because I didn't want to ruin us. The thought of us breaking up and never seeing each other again just terrified me because I never wanted to lose you, ever. But I fucked up and managed to do so anyways, and I hate myself every day as much as you do." He starts playing the song again as he speaks, but it plays it down a key and slower.

"I don't hate you, can't bring myself too, but you shouldn't of been afraid to talk to me. You know who I am, we would of worked through it no matter what." He nods, followed by only the sounds of the piano melody.

"I'm in love with you." I hear him say softly after a little while out of the blue. It catches me off guard, finding it so foreign to hear those words come from him.

I let out a soft self deprecating chuckle. "No you don't. You care about me, but you don't love me. Probably saying this out of guilt or spur of the moment type thing and I can understand that, but you love Heather. She's good for you, perfect even."

"But I fell in love with you. She's not you." His brows are furrowed together as he frowns.

"Yeah, I'm not her." The small glint of my smile quickly fades and he notices it.

"What I did during my speech was very shitty. Gemma pointed it out to me right away and it's one of the biggest things I ever regret doing." He stops playing when he sees me deep in thought, slowly taking my hand to test the waters. "But I need you to understand what I said was true, that you are such an important person to me. You are beautiful, and kind, patience, and just so fucking good to me, love. I want to cherish you because it's what you deserve and I will deal with as much rejection for you to forgive me and give me another chance. It's worth every heartbreak if it means I get to love you again."

I find myself in an intimate situation, looking into his eyes at such a close proximity, our faces only inches away from each other. I was pleading to him with my eyes, begging him not to hurt me again while the look on his face was one I used to be familiar with. He was frozen while the fear that it would only just happen again held me back from moving. His eyes fluttered down to my lips, as if asking for permission and my head was refusing it. But every other part of me wanted to feel those lips again. I looked down at his, my hand taking hold of his and placing it on my chest to where my heart is before he made the move to finally press our lips together in a small kiss.

I wanted to sob because it felt right. I felt the butterflies again and the complete state of satisfaction. This time was gentle as well, but Harry put so much love into the kiss, cupping my cheek with his other hand when he feels how fast my heart was beating.

It only took a second more before I slowly pulled away, still tightly holding his hand against my heart as he could sense my doubt. "It's going to take some time okay? Probably a long time but you caused me a lot of heartbreak. But I never stopped loving you H, as much as I didn't want too anymore." I said seriously, and his eyes lits up with hope. Holding back his smile as much as he could while he nods because he heard that little nickname again.

"I'll give you as much time and space as you need, thank you. I love you so much bubs." He pulls me into a hug, nuzzling his face into my neck and I feel instantly calmer because of it. I rest my head on his shoulder while he mumbles sweet words into my skin.

"Promise I'll be good to you."

______________________________________________

A/N: :o it’s complete. I finished it yay! I’m so proud with how this series came out and I genuinely hope you guys do as well. I’ve started my semester and it’s going to be hectic so writing will take longer to come out, but there will be future stories that I’m really looking forward to writing and sharing :)

taglist: @big-galaxy-chaos​

[sinnergetreadymp3]

CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC

Uhhhhh I feel like I should give this a title but I have no idea what to call so uh, nevermind !!

Anyways,I finally finished the fic I said I was writing like,a month ago lol. All my Chameron stans out there this one's for u,I rlly hope at least one person enjoys this,I rlly enjoyed writing it !! Ok sappy stuff outta the way,here it is:

As rain pounded against the window Charlie sent what was probably the thousandth crumpled ball of paper across the room.

"Jesus Charlie,is your arm not getting tired?"

Charlie smirked at that, clearly preparing to make a dirty minded joke,but a thoroughly exhausted Richard Cameron was already one step ahead.

"You know what,forget I asked, you're gross."

Getting up from the seat at his desk and ignoring an indignant retort from Charlie, Cameron thought of the rest of his friends,out for the weekend. Todd and Neil celebrating their one year anniversary, Meeks and Pitts embarking on a two day road trip,for what they still claimed to be, entirely platonic reasons (although the rest of the poets were all too aware of the almost palpable romantic tension between them). Even Knox had found something to do with himself on this miserable Friday night.

And here Cameron was,stuck in his dorm with nothing but stacks of extra homework and his obnoxious roommate to keep him company.

Speaking of that obnoxious roommate, "Oh come on Cam,you're not seriously going to bed already,it's barely eight!"

"Shut up Dalton,I'm tired."

Refusing to admit defeat, Charlie sprung from his own bed into Cameron's, attempting to wrestle the poor boy from his comfortable position.

"Charlie,get off you psycho!" Cameron managed to get out, already laughter threatening to give away just how welcome his friend's childish antics were.

After a few more minutes of "fooling around" as Charlie insisted on calling it (mostly because of how profusely it made Cameron blush),the two boys lay breathless beside each other,trying desperately to think of something else to do that would ward off impending boredom.

After a few moments of comfortable silence,Charlie suggested,looking expectantly towards the ginger, "Wanna go to the cave?"

With extreme,mind numbing boredom as motivation, it was inevitable that Cameron would say yes. It certainly helped that Charlie was gazing at him with those oh-so convincing doe eyes of his. Charlie Dalton and his stupid,gorgeous eyes. And his stupid,gorgeous smile,which Cameron was abso definitely not thinking about as he got up and grabbed his coat.

The two boys trudged through the woods,bickering lightly when Cameron complained of the cold that Charlie apparently couldnt feel at all,but always with an unusually friendly air between them. Before long they were sat together in the middle of the cave,sharing an apple that Cameron had managed to salvage from somewhere (a feat Dalton was of course impressed by),and trading stories of girls and parties galore. In Cameron's case, the stories of girls were few and the parties were from years long before even middle school,so Charlie did most of the talking.

After a while though,the boys came to discussing their friends,and the luck they all seemed to have in finding each other so easily. Charlie, ever the romantic,made no waste of his extensive vocabulary,tediously lamenting on all the opportunities of love he had missed and the everlasting loneliness he was doomed to,all because his dashing knight in shining armour would never come to find him and-

"Why dont *you* just find somebody?"

Charlie,still sprawled dramatically over a rock ,and mildly offended at the interruption,indignantly questioned "What do you mean?"

"What I said? You dont just have to wait around for somebody to come find you and fall madly in love. Why don't *you* just find somebody?"

He thought for a moment,taken aback by the ginger's harsh words,but eventually decided to humout him for a moment.

"And where exactly do you suggest I find him then, hm?"

Cameron shifted in his seat,not expecting to be taken seriously and certainly not prepared to be giving advice. Especially not *this* kind of advice. Especially not to *charlie*.

"Well,uh," he looked up to see the other boy looking at him expectantly,with that ever-present smirk on his face that, oddly enough,made Cameron feel a little more comfortable.

"Maybe,you could,I don't know, consider that the guy you're looking for has been here the whole time?"

"Wow Cam,Pittsie and Meeks' radio must've really gotten to you. All those love songs have turned you into a big softie." Charlie joked,grinning and nudging Cameron playfully.

Through a soft laugh,Cameron continued, "No I'm serious man,I think you're making this whole love thing way harder for yourself. I mean- and be honest with me, what's actually wrong with the guys at our school?"

"Other than the fact that about three quarters of them are raging heterosexuals?"

Laughing again,Cameron replied "yeah,other than that."

After about zero seconds of careful consideration,he had come to a conclusion, "Well,I guess nothing,but I dont know? Cameron, I don't see how this changes-"

"It *changes* things because clearly you don't anything about half the guys at our school. And you can't write off people you don't even know." At some point, Cameron had gotten up and started pacing around,but with the end of this triumphant speech,he finally sat down,a little closer to the other boy than he had been before.

Charlie looked across at Cameron and was suddenly met with a wave of fondness. Weird,how all it took was to sit and talk for a while before someone you thought you near hated,started to feel like your favorite person in the world. And,was he going completely crazy or Cameron at his most comfortable, without the fear of a teacher lurking nearby,without the stress of constantly trying to prove himself,was he... A little..... attractive??

All at once,Charlie made a decision,partly to try and prove himself wrong,but also because hey,if Richard Cameron was the surprise love of his life,what better time to figure it out than right now?

"So how,sir Richard Cameron,do you propose I get to know all these charming suitors?"

Cameron, completely in the dark about Dalton's recent epiphany,was still stubbornly trying to explain how much easier Charlie's love life could be,if only he would let it.

"Well,maybe by actually talking to them? Y'know,kind of like,What we're doing right now."

"So,what you're saying is,*you* could be my knight in shining armor," he said with a smirk.

"Well,that's not what-"

"No,no it's fine,as long as we're talking about this version of you. Regular Cameron is kind of a buzzkill but Cave Cam is actually a kind of.... And I can't believe I'm saying this but,in here,like this...well. You're actually a little hot."

After this, overwhelmingly romantic confession, Charlie was certain he had completely stuffed it,and sure enough,

"Gee Charlie,thanks. Really makes me wanna ride into the sunset with you." To say Cam's ego had been hit was an understatement,but before he could make a swift exit from the cave and lock himself,alone,in his dorm for the rest of the weekend,of course Dalton kept talking.

"God,I'm sorry,that was, I have no idea why I said that. I thought I was being funny but out loud- god I'm so sorry," while he had initially been mad,seeing Charlie fucking Dalton blush (and because of *him* no less) was rather funny. And sure,a little cute. So Cameron decided to hear him out.

"Can I start over? You're not saying anything so I'm gonna start over. I,uh, I really do think you're hot. Like really hot. And not just right now,all the time,like that time we were at rowing practice and I started pushing you around and we ended up on the floor and I saw like,a single sliver of skin because your sweater had ridden up,and I couldn't stop thinking about it all day,which I thought was a little weird but then-"

"Uh,I think I get it,Charlie." Now Cameron was the one blushing.

"Uh,sorry. What I meant was,that I *do* think you're hot l-"

"As you've said"

"Yeah,yeah,but it's more than that. Like,when I realized we'd basically be spending the whole weekend alone together,I was actually sorta excited for that,even though I knew I'd just be sitting by you while you did homework the whole time,I like,wanted to do that. And tonight,I haven't talked like this with anyone who isn't Neil like,ever. What I mean is,I guess,is that,I think that uh,"

Deciding to lighten the mood,Cameron tried for a little sarcasm, "Wow,Dalton, stuttering? I must be superman or something."

"I'm trying to be romantic here Carrot top," Charlie said with a grin,

"Listen,I don't really know what I'm doing here,but I think it might be kinda nice if we tried having a little romantic weekend of our own. Just to try it. If it totally sucks we can pretend it never happened and the others don't have to know about it and-"

"Charlie."

"Yeah?"

"Relax," Cameron said with yet another laugh ,he didn't think he laughed like this since... Well,he couldn't even remember.

So with a radiant smile on his face,he said,"A romantic weekend of our own sounds amazing. Gotta warn you tho I'm not a great kisser."

"Well, lucky for you I am a great teacher," Charlie replied,with a somehow even bigger smile on his face than Cameron's,

"Why are you laughing,I *am* a great teacher!" Unfortunately for Charlie,his indignance only made Cameron laugh harder.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"If you shut up and stop laughing,maybe you'll get to." After this was all it took to get the ginger to sober up, the look on his face pushed Charlie to make his final,but (in his opinion) most important decision of the night.It was high time he flirt with Cameron way more often (which was *very* difficult to explain to the other poets,at least the first time).