#anyways i had a pretty good night. i wish it was warmer out though (hopefully next year it will be)

[dykedragons]

oohoh my god ok i went trick or treating with my buddies and my bestie surprised me with a costume that MATCHED MINE!!!!!! we were little european peasant boys together

[mercy-burning]

Good Little Helper

Pairing: Season 5! Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader gets assigned to be Spencer’s personal assistant of sorts after he gets shot in the knee. Category: SMUT(18+) Content Warnings: fingering (female receiving), blowjob, praise kink, dirty talk, blink and you’ll miss it cumplay Word Count: 4.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: So, remember yesterday when I posted about how I wished new ideas would stop distracting me from everything I’m currently working on? Yeah. This wouldn’t leave me alone, and I couldn’t work on anything until I got it out of my head, so here! Have a fic! (It was supposed to be a blurb, but I got a little long-winded so now it’s too long to be a blurb oops 😙✌) Also, I apologize for any editing mistakes, I just wrote this out in one go, so hopefully it’s alright!

***

Being assigned to assist Dr. Reid with practically his every need after he was shot in the knee wasn't exactly how I expected to spend the past few months.

And that's, like... a huge understatement.

In fact, when Agent Hotchner came up to me in the break room and said he'd like me to do the job, I dropped my coffee and shattered a mug. I could tell he was a little impatient with me, even through his kind reassurances that it was quite all right as he helped me clean it up and waited for an answer.

In the end I'd said yes to the job, though the more I thought about it the more I wondered how much lust and naivete had clouded my judgement when I did.

Because there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to survive weeks, possibly months, as Spencer Reid's assistant. Not only because he was intimidatingly intelligent and there was almost nothing I could offer him in decent conversation, but also—and more prominently—the fact that I was pretty sure I was in love with him.

Maybe that was a stretch. I definitely had a stupid major crush on him that felt more like we were in middle school, but I could barely look at him without going warm all over. In fact, I think we had only ever made eye contact once and I averted my gaze immediately, afraid I'd give myself away. If I'd have held it any longer, I was positive I'd have burst into flames.

He'd tried talking to me once, a few months after I started working at the Bureau, and it was only to ask if I'd send some files over to their tech analyst, Penelope Garcia, but when I tried answering, I stumbled over my words and ended up only getting out a squeaked, "Uh huh," before taking the files from him and scurrying off.

I almost cried that day.

Basically every time I was in his presence, I was a total wreck. Even more so than I was on any other given day.

Being his assistant did get fairly easy pretty early on, though. I mostly just stayed out of his way while he worked, and if he need anything that he could've gotten himself if not for the injury, it was my job to get it for him. I worked on my own paperwork most of the time, and he was always busy working on geographical profiles and whatever else, we only ever really had to talk when he asked for something. And that only required a, "Sure," on my end, so I could just get up, get what he needed, and then go back to work.

Still, it didn't help that sometimes I'd get distracted.

He was very distracting.

I usually waited until I was sure he was so busy in work that I wouldn't get caught. And that's when I'd peek over my computer or hide behind a book and stare at him. I know that sounds creepier than it is, but if you had to spend almost every hour of the day with him, you'd have done the same. Even though for months he was put on rest from the field, he always showed up looking more like a college professor than an FBI agent. Which, I suppose suited him more anyway. Regardless, it was a damn fine look. His hair was decently long and extremely pretty, and when he got the cane?

I was a goner.

It was at that point, though, when I started to realize that he probably wouldn't need my help anymore. He'd been allowed back into the filed by then, and even when I went with them on cases it still felt like I was more out of place than usual. Sure, I'd picked up on some minor skills that aided in profiling and otherwise, but at the end of the day I was still only a desk clerk. Sooner or later, I knew there would be a time where Agent Hotchner would inevitably tell me that I'd done a good job and could return to my menial day job.

So, even though Dr. Reid and I had gotten into a pretty regular, non-awkward rhythm, I was being a little more squirrely than usual.

And of course, he noticed.

"Y/N, are you doing alright?" he asked, looking up from his stack of paperwork. That was another thing we'd ended up doing— late into the night after everyone had gone home, we stayed late in the conference room and quietly filled out paperwork.

I barely looked him in the eye when I answered. "O—Oh, mhm. I'm fine."

"Oh... You just seem... a little different today."

On any other day I would have freaked out on the inside like a teenager, excited that he'd noticed me at all enough to notice a difference in my behavior. But that was his job after all.

"Actually, you seem rather... sad."

I did look up at him this time, and the soft glow of the table lamp lit up his features— features that looked me over with concern. I could feel my face grow warmer with every second I looked at him, until I quickly looked back down at my paper and shook my head.

"N—No, I'm okay. Promise. Just a little tired, that's all."

Usually he would have left it at that, given we didn't ever really have longer conversations than that that didn't pertain to whatever case the BAU was working on. But he pushed further, and I swallowed.

"Are you sure? Because... You can tell me if there's something wrong. I'm a good listener..."

Did I dare tell him what was really plaguing me? That I was scared I wasn't going to be able to spend time with him every day, thus most likely giving away my crush? That is, if he hadn't already figured it out by this point... Truthfully it wouldn't have surprised me.

The thought made me go warm again, and still, I kept my head down.

"I'm sure..."

And then I did something I probably shouldn't have. I looked back up at him, just a quick glance, but under his intense gaze I crumbled, flitting my eyes back down and playing with my hands.

"Is it... because of me?"

Afraid suddenly that I'd made him feel bad, I straightened a little. "No! No, not at all I... Um... I—I guess I'm just... A little sad that I'm probably... not going to be of any help to you anymore. You know, now that you're healing up."

A small smile flashed over his face, and I inwardly melted.

"Oh... In that case I... I guess I'm sad, too."

"Really?" I asked softly, my heart jumping.

"Mhm," he answered back in earnest. His features were softer than they'd ever been, eyes wide and kind, smile inviting... "You've been a great help. And you're fun to be around."

I couldn't help but smile shyly at his confession, completely bewildered that he'd think of me as someone he'd enjoyed being around, though I'd offered just about nothing interesting to any conversation we'd had. "Y—You don't mean that..."

"I do."

"C'mon, really? I... I—mean... coming from you that's... that's too generous."

He laughed a little. "How do you mean?"

"I... Well, y—you're you... I mean, you're... smart, and nice, and cu— uh,... n—nice..." I stumbled hard on that last one, squeezing my eyes shut at the thought of almost calling him cute to his face... And then I realized I'd called him nice two times... in a row.

I hadn't even realized he'd gotten up and walked over to me until I felt his cane gently tap my leg. I jumped, looking up at him and almost crumbled again right then and there. He stood over me, tall and clearly amused, and I wanted to just curl up and hide where no one would ever find me.

I also didn't want to be craning my neck so far up to see him, so I stood up, sending my chair rolling back a foot or two. The added height was better, but he was still fiarly taller than me, and with the way were standing so close to each other?

Maybe I'd made a mistake...

"I—I'm sorry," I stammered.

Still amused, Spencer tilted his head a small amount. "What for?"

"I... I don't know, m—making this awkward?"

"It's not awkward."

"It... It's not?"

He shook his head, quiet for a few beats before he nearly whispered. "What were you going to say?"

I paused. "I... What?"

"Before... You said I was smart. And nice... And... What else?"

It sounded like he was trying to get me to confess something, and quite honestly I couldn't tell if it was for humiliation or amusement or clarification purposes. I mean, it was probably safe to assume he wouldn't go out of his way to humiliate me, but... it still made me nervous.

"I—I didn't... I..."

"Y/N... Tell me?"

I'd been cornered. Quite literally, too, as my lower back hit the edge of the table. My hands shook anxiously at my sides as I contemplated what to say. The truth? Embarrassing for me. A lie? I was no good at telling lies, and I'd still end up embarrassed, because he'd be able to tell.

So, after a very long silence in which he waited on me to answer, I blurted out, as quietly as possible, "Cute."

The word sounded juvenile coming from my mouth. Right now, standing under Dr. Reid's intense scrutiny, it didn't even feel like the right word to describe him. Not that it wasn't true... But it just wasn't an elegant enough descriptor for him.

And that alone probably proved just how different we were. How out of my league he was...

"That's what I thought you were going to say," he mused, slightly breaking me out of my self-deprecation.

I would have asked him something then, anything to keep myself from looking like even more of a fool with a childish schoolgirl crush, but all words escaped me entirely. All I could do was look up at him, slowly growing warm under the intensity of his eyes and praying he wouldn't think of me as silly.

Though, it wouldn't have mattered, because he kept talking anyway, his body taking up even more space around me as his arms came around to well and truly trap me against the table.

"You're right, you know... I'm almost completely healed, and pretty soon I think I won't need an assistant anymore."

I was scared that maybe I was wrong before, and he'd actually humiliate me now, though the look in his eyes suggested otherwise. I wasn't sure what to make of all of it. SO I just stood there, trying to breath steadily as Spencer studied my face.

"And I meant it... That makes me sad. You know why?"

I shook my head, afraid to make a sound.

His head dipped lower, close enough that I could feel his breath on my mouth as he spoke. "I probably won't get to see you every day."

"Y—you want to see me?" I couldn't help but ask.

He scanned my eyes, amusement and something else lingering there as he did. "Yes."

And then he kissed me.

It was a short distance, but it felt like we went far. And I hadn't even registered that I whimpered into his mouth until he returned it with a low groan that boiled my insides and absolutely melted me. I was helpless against him as he pressed himself further against me and used his hands to keep my back steady.

The whole time my mind was swimming with dizziness. It felt like my body was covered in butterflies from head to toe, particularly strong where his hands pressed into me and his cane rested firmly along the inside of my thigh.

I leaned forward when he pulled away, because I was afraid that he was saying goodbye. But one of his hands came up to my face and my eyes fluttered open, immediately taking notice of how messy his hair was now that I'd had my fingers in it.

I must have looked scared, because suddenly his eyes changed, and he removed his hands away from me altogether, putting distance in between us. "I—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you without asking..."

The relief that rushed through my body must have gotten to my head, because I breathed out a demand I'd never have had the courage to get out before.

"Do it again."

One second I was staring at him, admittedly afraid that he'd regretted all of it, and the next I was seeing stars as he came forward and kissed me again. His hands cradled my face as he did so, coming on to me with gentle care while still maintaining that hunger that surprised and excited me.

I hadn't realized how much I missed his touch until he'd given it back to me, my body once again melting into him and allowing him to do whatever it is that pleased him.

Apparently that was lifting my leg off the ground and making me sit on the table.

My body went along with it easily, and I was glad for it because my brain was nothing but mush, unable to process fully how he'd decided that I was worth kissing. All I really knew was that I wanted him. Anything he wanted from me, I was willing to give. And that must have come across very clearly, because when he pulled away and spoke to me, I whimpered at his words.

"Y/N... You've been such a good girl, helping me with whatever I needed these past few months..." Meanwhile his hand danced along the hem of my skirt, the tiny brushes of his skin against mine sending me into a mess of shivers.

"I think it's about time I've thanked you for all your help, don't you think?"

The implications in his tone made me whine again, and I pressed my forehead into his, our noses brushing as I answered. "Please."

I was so taken by the way he groaned as his lips connected with mine once more that I almost didn't realize that his hand was now fully up my skirt, his fingers drawing gentle lines over my panties and practically making me melt again. His hungry kisses contradicted the softness he took to my clothed cunt, a fact that warmed me to my core and made me want him more than ever.

When he slipped the fabric aside and ran the pad of his finger through me, I whined hard against his mouth, something that must have excited him— He nipped at my bottom lip and took a deep breath.

"How long have you wanted this, Princess?"

If not for the kissing and the finger slowly sliding up through my arousal, the nickname would have done me in. By now I was an utter wreck, but I somehow still managed to answer, even through a little stammering. "F—Forever."

It was the best I could come up with.

He breathed a laugh as his finger circled my clit. "That's a long time..."

"Uh huh," was all I could manage in response. My body and my brain were too focused on the things his finger was doing to my body, involuntarily rolling my hips forward for more. I needed more.

Thankfully he picked up on my urgency and reciprocated with slipping his middle finger inside me, one knuckle, then two...

I cried out as my head lurched forward, connecting our mouths once again. My hands clutched around his neck and my fingers tugged at his hair to keep myself from falling, because the slow, searing pace at which he fingered me made me wonder how I'd still been able to breathe.

He added another finger soon enough, picking up the pace and rendering me practically useless in his embrace. Meanwhile I registered the sound of his own little whines, still deeper than mine but little enough to tip me off that he was enjoying this just as much as I was, and that alone helped get me further along in pleasure.

I pulled my mouth from his reluctantly, squeezing my eyes shut as I allowed my forehead to rest against his. "D—Doctor, I'm c... I'm so close."

"His honorific falling breathlessly from my mouth seemed to do something sinister to him, because his fingers sped up and his breathing got heavier.

"Yeah? You gonna come for me, Princess?"

My stomach tightened and I nodded as best as I could, relishing in the sounds coming from below us, wet and downright filthy.

"Go ahead...Be a good girl and come for me... You deserve it..."

Each little sentence was punctuated with a slightly faster pace, each one bringing me closer and closer until I squeaked into his mouth and shook violently around his fingers, my vision going white. My legs had been open wide since he'd started teasing under my skirt, but now they threatened to clamp shut from the intensity. But I wanted nothing more than to be good for him, to make this as easy as possible, so I held out and kept them open as wide as I could stand as my orgasm rocked through me.

Spencer whispered praises into my skin as his hand slowed and his mouth trailed down to my neck. And even though it was more than nice feeling him lick and bite over my skin, I felt rather sad when he removed his fingers from me.

That sadness didn't last long though, not when he pulled back and studied me for a moment, eyes lust-blown and purely ravenous before he brought his glistening fingers up to my mouth.

I didn't even have to think. I brought my tongue out and let him slip his fingers over it, closing my mouth around them and sighing as I sucked them clean. This only seemed to excite him more, his features displaying all sorts of desperation until he couldn't take it anymore.

He kissed me again, bringing both his hands to rest at my waist. And with his hands so low I wondered if maybe he'd take to ridding himself of his own pants, but it never happened. Rather, he pulled away after minutes of more kissing, and sighed quite sadly as his upper body pressed firmly into mine.

Something else pressed firmly against me as well—right along the inside of my thigh—and I gasped, mind running wild through all the possible outcomes of the night.

But Spencer only stood there, occasionally nudging his nose against mine while his hands gently kneaded my sides.

"D—Do you want to stop?" I asked softly, afraid he'd regret what we did.

He proved me wrong. "God, no... It's... It's just that I'm still not cleared enough for any... strenuous activity on my leg, and I don't..."

I didn't want to push him, obviously, but I thought I could make the mood a little lighter. "O—Oh, well on the bright side... I could stay your assistant for a while longer."

The laugh that rumbled in his throat made me smile, though from the way he stood there, I knew he wouldn't risk it.

"Um... Raincheck?" he whispered.

On the one hand, that meant he definitely wanted to see me again, and I was more than happy with that. But also, that meant our fun for the night was done...

Yet... Maybe not...

"Sure," I answered, pecking his lips once more. Then I brought my hand to his chest and slid it down until I reached his belt, and I leaned back to look him in the eye, a boldness I never imagined coming from me in a million years.

"But I can still help you..."

I watched the desperation and disappointment in his features slowly dissolve into a newfound hunger—and an amusement—that grew my confidence tenfold.

"Oh?" Spencer mused. "How do you suppose you can help me this time?"

He wanted me to say it. So, without second guessing myself anymore, I grazed my finger over his erection. "I'm very good with my mouth, Dr. Reid."

He grabbed me by the hand then, dragging me along to the chair I'd kicked back before and sat himself down, one of his hands still gripping the cane. Matched with the desire in his eyes and the swollenness of his lips and the tousled strands of his hair, the sight was truly something to behold. It was something that only ever existed in my dreams, nd now it was real.

Not wanting to waste any time, I sunk to my knees and nestled myself in between his legs. He reached out and caressed my cheek before lifting my chin with his middle finger.

"You like being my good little helper?" he drawled.

I tried to nod, but he clicked his tongue and held my chin in place. "Words, Princess."

"Yes. I—I'd do anything you asked. Anything you want, it's yours..."

He hummed then, removing his hand from my face and moving to undo his belt swiftly with only one hand. The action, the sound, everything... it was enough to make me wet again, and I subtly ground down onto the heel of my foot as I watched him pull himself free from the confines of his pants.

I didn't have time to marvel at him before I was drawn forward like a magnet, my hands crawling up his legs and my eyes batting up at him, ready and eager to please him however he wanted.

"Eager, are we?" he mused once more, gently stroking himself with his hand.

"Yes, Doctor," I breathed, inching closer and kissing the outside of his hand.

His movement stopped then, and it didn't take longer than a second for him to decide to let me work on my own.

"Then have at it, Princess..."

I started by kissing my way up the length of him, taking my time to gauge his reactions as I did so, occasionally darting my tongue out to taste him. Once I reached the tip, I sucked on it gently, using my tongue to swirl around it until I could taste the saltiness of his precum.

And then I started taking him slowly into my mouth, watching above me as Spencer's eyes started to shut, obviously debating whether or not to lay back and enjoy this or watch me intently.

Either way, I was more than happy to keep it up, finally getting him to the back of my throat. I flexed my tongue and held him there as long as I could, promptly gagging over him and blinking tears from my eyes as he let out a loudest sound I'd heard from him yet. His head flew back and his tongue quivered along his bottom lip as he cursed my name.

The act made me proud, so I retreated for air, sucked at his tip again for a few seconds, and then repeated it, taking him down my throat again and watching through teary eyes as he visibly swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so... Such a good fucking girl..."

The praise caused my insides to burn hot, and I ground down onto my heel again, lifting my mouth to start bobbing up and down.

His eyes opened then, and he looked down at me, using his hand to brush stray hair from my face and the other to grip onto his cane for dear life. I looked up at him the whole time, making sure to convey through not only my actions but also my eyes that I loved this. I thrived off of his praise, I enjoyed the feel of his dick gliding over my tongue and hitting the back of my throat, and I longed to feel him coat the inside of my mouth with his release.

I was so entirely into him in every capacity, it wasn't even funny.

I was so glad he could tell, a smile grazing his features as his hand gently gripped some of my hair. "So eager to please, Princess... And so fucking good at delivering..."

I whined onto his dick as he held me down, rendering me immobile. The only thing I could do was look up at him and choke, and of course, I was more than happy to do it. In turn, I was met with a deep groan and a tug of the hair.

"Hold it, hold it... Atta girl..."

My cunt throbbed at his words, and my throat continued to burn, tears falling down my face at ten-speed until finally, he let up and pulled me off of him.

I coughed a little and blinked away tears as I caught my breath, Spencer's fingers combing hair from my face as he smiled proudly.

He didn't even need to say anything then. I wanted to give him more. So I leaned down again and took him in my mouth, quickly making work of his tip while my hand came up and stroked the rest of him.

"Fuck, Princess, just like that... Make me come just like that..."

Rather than just continuing, I offered him a high whine and a wide gaze, hoping to exceed expectations.

I guess it worked, because he came right then, his dick pulsing over my tongue and in my hand as his warm release shot down my throat and over my tongue. I hummed around him, fluttering my eyes closed at the taste and the feeling, probably enjoying the fact that I'd done this to him more than I should have.

It was worth it to see the look on his face, though, after he'd given me all he had and I purposely spit some of it out onto the tip of his dick so I could lick it up and give him just a little more stimulation after the fact. His mouth hung open, eyes heavy and unwilling to leave me, even as I finished and sat back to wipe the tears and saliva from my face with a satisfied smile.

Though, the longer he looked at me, the more shy I became. Funny when I'd just had his dick down my throat, but I'd never been good with people staring at me for long periods of time.

"Was that... Was that okay?" I asked, suddenly worried I hadn't done something to his standards. "I know I don't do this a lot, so I'm sorry if it wasn't that g—"

"Y/N..."

I blinked up at him, still on my knees and unwilling to move. Not that I wanted to, but I couldn't even if I had.

"That was fucking perfect... I meant it, you're... so good."

I knew he was capable of better words, but after having the life sucked out of you, I could imagine 'better words' were hard to come by. Still, I laughed a little, playing with the hem of my skirt. "Good. I'm... glad I could help."

He smiled at me, readjusting his pants and then moving to help me off the ground.

"Hey, uh... Even when you go back to your regular job after I get better, I... I hope you know you're always welcome to come visit me if we're not busy."

The words warmed me in a different way, my heart swelling as well. "You... You mean that?"

Spencer nodded, grabbing my hand and dragging his thumb over my wrist. "Of course. I mean, you're more than just a good helper, you know. You're also kind, and smart, and cute..."

I laughed at his emphasis on cute, heat warming my face. "Ha-ha..."

"I really mean it, though," he said softly, removing his hand from mind and bringing it up to lift my chin, so I'd meet his eyes. They were swimming with sincerity, the epitome of warmth and comfort and kindness— the kind that always drew me to him in the first place. "And... If you'd want to maybe ditch the paperwork one day and grab a coffee or something, maybe—"

"Yes," I interrupted without thinking. My heartbeat picked up upon seeing the look in his eyes when I agreed, a mixture of amusement and relief. "Y—Yes, I'd love to."

"Good. Then it's a date?"

"Definitely."

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[dodo-begone]

Fear for my Lover

Pairing: DSMP!Quackity x Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warning: Blood, stitches, bruises, injuries, cursing, frontier first aid (sorry if i missed something)

Summary: Life had been busy lately. Very busy. The night was peaceful and you were more than happy to take advantage of the quiet. Even with Quackity there with you. Fate had other plans though and absolutely ruined what would've been an amazing night.

A/n: i,,, this was meant to be SHORT but also- haha i got 2-3 more parts planned brrrrrr. Also used a dialogue prompt thingy for this- you'll see them in there. They're highlighted.

You thought nothing of it when Quackity said that he was going out. Beforehand he told you that he might have to stay late to do some work. You weren’t sure if he had finished or not, but his departure only confirmed the thought that no, he had not finished business.

With a sigh, you walk over to the couch and flop onto it. The exhaustion from the many months of constant work was catching up. You missed how life was before. Even when you were stuck under Schlatt’s rule on Manberg. Yes, it was quite tedious and annoying, but you weren’t completely rebuilding a nation from the ground up along with its citizens.

The physical work of building was tiresome, but something relaxation and a few nights of rest could easily reverse the effects. Though the mental strain was a completely different story. All of the paperwork was tedious and could keep you up at night just because you need to get one more paper done before dawn. Or just knowing that you aren’t able to help everyone in the new L’manberg. So many had given up hope, were tired of the vicious cycle that they had been caught in. It may not have been going on long, but it still had its effect on everyone all the same.

So much work and so little recreational time. There was little time to care for oneself with so much work on their plate. Let alone spend time with your loved ones. Even if they lived in the same house as you. It felt alienating when you weren’t able to even have a small conversation with your significant other.

Your thoughts were deafeningly loud. Sometimes even covering each other when they brought up memories of anxieties of the past and future. That’s why it was rather surprising when the entire L’manberg cabinet ran through your front door in a frenzy. Jumping off of the couch, you try to survey the situation. What in Pime’s name could be going on?

Their hysterical cacophony of voices were all that reached your ears. You didn’t even need to hear their words when you saw Quackity’s limp body in Fundy’s arms.

Without a second thought, you push your way over to Fundy and Quackity, quickly searching him for injuries. Well, the injuries part was pretty obvious with all of the blood. But the extent of the injuries were another story. What could be going on? How bad was it? Oh Prime, why was there so much blood?

In the frenzy you must’ve said something because something happened. One moment you are near the entrance with your beloved in the arms of his co-worker and the next you’re tending to his wounds in your shared bed. Nobody else was in the room. It was just you and Quackity. Your Quackity. And a bowl of water and a small stack of wash clothes and towels.

Your hands quacked from both worry and the sobs you were desperately holding back. Something was stabbing the interior of your throat as it closed from the overwhelming emotions that filled your body.

What terrified you was that Quackity wasn’t completely unconscious. He definitely wasn’t completely there but he was still awake and babbling. More muttering because of how frail and faint his voice was, but it was still a bunch of nonsense. How you wished to know what he was saying, what he was thinking. Now wasn’t the time, but you feared that if you didn’t know now that he’d never tell you. Shit hit the fan and he came back like this. Either his pride or his desire to “protect” you would keep him from spilling the tea. This was your only chance.

All you were able to do was open your mouth before Quackity was making this harder. He was extremely weak from the blood loss and you were in a race against time to stop the river of blood that just seemed to flow freely from his wounds. You had been holding his bigger wounds tightly, trying to put as much pressure as you could to slow the blood loss or stop it completely. Each attempt to settle Quackity only leads to him resisting more, weakly fighting you to get up. Soon his behavior had gone on for too long, in your humble opinion, and he was still as stubborn as he was in the beginning.

With what little common sense you had left in your nearly hysterical state, you tried to reason with him. “Quackity,” you pleaded, still trying to gently push him back onto the bed so he was laying. “Please lay down, Duckie. It’s for your own good. Just let me bandage you up and I’ll leave you alone. Okay?”

From an outsider’s perspective, the attempt was silly. It really wouldn’t have gotten much of a reaction from your confused lover. And yet you still tried anyway, hoping that anything would help at this point. You were desperate.

His silence spoke volumes. In some stroke of luck, Quackity heard your words. That or he became too tired to fight and “speak”. Either way, you were taking what you could get. It was a victory and your goal was reached. Without much, if any fight at all, you managed to get Quackity back into bed and went back to patching up his wounds.

They were much worse than you hoped. Your wish that it was a smaller wound with a ton of blood oozing out was swiftly dashed when you started to clean up the blood from its source. Well, more accurately from anywhere and cleaning until you found the source. Although a bad idea, you had patched up his smaller, easy to access wounds. Though you couldn’t dodge the challenge that stood before you, glaring at you from Quackity’s face.

Petechiae, scratches, and bruises also decorated his face in a hideous manner. The centerpiece of it all was a large scar that traveled from his lip to his eye, all on the left side, was the most obvious wound. The others could heal on their own, but that cut, could you even call it a cut, was in dire need of assistance. It was probably already infected and trying to heal itself. But it was too big, too wide to heal naturally. Intervention was needed and it was needed stat!

Blankly you stare at his face, mind running a mile a minute trying to think of remedies and solutions. Sadly there weren’t many options available. Ponk was too far away to call for his medical expertise, not even considering how late it was. Would he even still be awake? Let alone awake enough to do stitches? You could wait till morning but who knows what condition Quackity would be in at dawn. Something had to be done and it had to be done now. Only one plausible solution remained and it definitely wasn’t pleasant.

Swiftly you leave Quackity, moving out of the room as quickly as you could. Quackity tried to reach out to you but just missed your sleeve. Though you didn’t notice or know. You had things to get done and to get them done you needed equipment. Desperately you search around the house, pulling out anything you’d need. More clean towels, a bowl of clean water since the one you had been using was more than dirtied and the towels absolutely soiled. Placing them half-hazardly on a flat surface, you scurried around to find the other necessary equipment. After having to catch your sewing tin and lighter from falling a few times, you grab everything you previously gathered and make your treacherous journey back to Quackity.

When you return, he’s once again sitting up in bed. Weakly, mind you, as he fell back onto the mattress at the sight of you. You wished to scold him for going against what you asked of him, but it didn’t matter now. With no time to waste, you dump your supplies onto the nightstand and fumble around, trying to get everything prepared.

As nimbly as your shaky hands could spare, you set up your thread and needle as if you were going to start sewing a gorgeous design into a quilt. You stared at the bowl of water you had, debating whether or not to use your sad little lighter to heat up that big ole bowl… it’s better if you didn’t. Other than being faster, how much better would it be for sanitizing the needle? It’d take ages to get the water boiling and even then it might not be enough. A flame straight out of a lighter? Seemed better. It got the job done quicker and would be warmer than the boiling water so it was going to kill more bacteria and germ than the boiling water. That’s what you hoped, at least. This is why you aren’t a medic.

Shakily, you ignite the lighter and hold the needle to the flame, slowly rotating it to equally distribute the heat. As tedious and anxiety inducing as it was, it would be worth it in the end. The stitch is only temporary until you can get Ponk to come over, hopefully by early tomorrow. Or later today? What time even was it- Snap out of it! This isn’t the time to be doing this!

You didn’t know how hot the needle had to be to be considered “sanitized” but you had waited long enough. At least that’s what it felt like. Plus the part of the needle you’re holding is getting pretty hot.

When you go in for the first suture, the hiss of pain before you even punctured the skin was a good indicator to you. Not that he was awake enough to still be actively feeling things, but to be able to vocally express his pain and that the needle was hot enough to probably kill most bacteria and germs if it hurt to touch. Hesitation is making you its bitch, holding you still and making you contemplate if what you’re doing is right. Of course what you’re doing is right. It has to be. It’s one of the best and only options you have.

Before you did anything else, you grabbed one of the towels and rolled it up. Gently you pried his mouth open and placed it in like a gag. He wasn’t going to be able to grip much and he’d be grinding his teeth together from pain. Previous experience with stitches and similar frontier medical procedures has taught you one thing; having a gag to bite on helps every part. The patient gets a way to release their pain and the “doctor” is less likely to be hurt by the patient since the patient will have something else to focus on hurting. It doesn’t work entirely but it’s better than hearing the unmuffled screams of agony and feels better to have something to grip onto as hard as you can.

After getting him situated, you position yourself again. With a deep breath, you start off the first suture. Quackity’s muffled scream was heartbreaking yet shocking. Even with you expecting it, it still spooked you a bit. But everything was okay. This was for the best. And then you continued on. Slowly you added stitch after stitch after stitch until you thought you did enough. Really it was a combination of “this is adequate” and “i’m too anxious to keep going because what if i mess up”. Without anesthetics, it was just horrific for both parties to go through with this endeavor. He was moving around so much, trying to twist and turn away from the pain being done to him. His movements were so often and large enough to make you nervous about going near his eyes. What if you poked it out? Or made him blind?

Looking back at the stitches and what they held together, it was obvious that his eyesight was going to be impaired from now on. His eyes were looking completely different from each other now. The regular on the right and the horrific product of whatever he did on his left. A white film covered his eyes like a snow blanket. He was now blind in that eye or going blind.

Realistically, he was going blind but you still held out for the unrealistic hope that he’d be almost entirely okay afterwards. You knew it was unrealistic, but you still hoped.

You Quackity didn’t deserve this.

Once you have cleaned up the mess you made, you start to pack everything up. Needle in the bowl to be cleaned, remaining threat back into the tin, bowls moved away from where they’d get bumped and dumped. Slowly and methodically you finish your tasks. The adrenaline of the night is slowly leaving your body and exhaustion is once again taking hold of you. Oh how you hated that. Absolutely despised the feeling.

After everything was to your liking, you go to check on Quackity again before you leave to give and get some silent rest for the two of you. It’s the least you could do for him after all of this.

He seemed comfortable after everything, peaceful in fact. It was such a calming sight and it eased your guilt of hurting him. Everything you did was for the greater good, you mentally remind yourself. It was to help prevent further infection and it was only temporary. Until you could get proper help for him.

Without much thought, you sit by the bed and lay your head upon it. So much blood got onto the blankets and the sheets. You’d need to clean that quickly. After Quackity gets help and is moved or can be moved, that is. Which would hopefully be tomorrow. Slowly you start to doze off. Or was it zoning out? Either or you were slowly calming down further. To the point where you almost fell asleep.

Jolting awake, you begrudgingly haul yourself off the floor and start your long and tiring journey to the living room. The couch was comfier than the floor, after all. No matter how much you wanted to sleep by Quackity.

Your dawdling is stopped by something on your sleeve. At first you think your sleeve got caught on something so you tug in hopes of being untangled from said object. Nothing happens so you just tug harder. But still nothing happens. Eventually your little tug of war becomes too annoying and has been prolonged enough. You whirl around to see what in Prime’s name you could be caught on.

Low and behold it was the man of the hour, surprisingly. Quackity had grabbed onto your sleeve and just held you there. Confused, you walk back to the bed and sit, holding his face and inspecting for any new signs of pain. Anything that would show that he was feeling something different, something worse. You hoped that he wasn’t feeling like that, but it was a naive hope. Wounds were not an unfamiliar concept to you and yet you’d always hope for such fantastical things to the point where it was odd.

In return for you holding his face, he went to gently hold yours. A soft smile makes an appearance upon your face after the action.

“How’re you feeling, Ducking,” you whisper. Silence once again makes its presence known and it’s very loud and obnoxious about it. “Sorry. I know you’re in a lot of pain. That was stupid of me to ask.”

Quackity chuckles at your slip up and you’re more than happy to join him. Slowly your chuckling drowned out by the silence that had obnoxiously told you how wrong you were to ask your beloved if he was in pain when it was more than obvious that he was, indeed, in pain. You take a deep breath and release a sigh.

“You need to sleep. It’ll help with the healing and hopefully with the pain until tomorrow. I plan on calling Ponk to do some actual doctor shit on you because Prime knows how amazing my skills are.” Once again you attempt to leave Quackity to sleep, but stopped by his grip on your sleeve.

“Please,” he rasped. God his voice was so hoarse after everything. You felt terrible as you were part of the cause and yet you couldn’t do anything nor bring yourself to feel too bad. It was all for the greater good, after all. For his health.

“Please what?”

“Please stay with me,” he begged, looking straight into your eyes with his only working one. The sight was pitiful. Such a prideful man who could do so much left in such a weakened state. You hated seeing him like this. Nobody liked seeing their loved ones in a position like that. And how could you deny him that request, especially with what he went through tonight. You still didn’t know what it was but the aftermath was horrific enough to give a small clue as to what happened.

“Of course,” you reply, smiling warmly and climbing into bed with him. The moment you’re under the blankets and sheets, he gently pulls you into a hug. For his or your sake, you’re unsure. You hope that it’s his though. “Anything for my Duckie.”

[youmarin]

Ch. 00 Pt. I : To-Not-Do-But-Actually-Do List | JJ Maybank × fem! reader

a/n : I wrote this between last night and this morning. It's not my first time writing fanfic but it is my first one of JJ Maybank. I always delete my works thinking they ain't good enough. Hopefully I won't delete it this time and when I get some breaks I can keep writing. Anyways to whoever stops and reads: Thank you very much and enjoy the story!

tw: underage drinking, smoking, slight mention of anxiety (it's barely there).

There's a small conversation in Spanish but I clarified what is being said.

word count: 3.0k+

You were studying for an upcoming test. It was Friday evening and you were sure nobody liked to study on Friday evenings just when the school week had come to an end. But you had nothing better to do. Well, you were invited to a kegger by your friends, which you were seriously considering going to since you already knew the material and didn’t know what to do now. But you were unsure about parties. One goes to have fun, right? But fun usually means getting drunk, high or hooking up. And you weren’t about to do any of them. But you figured it wouldn’t hurt to put in practice your socializing skills. 

You told your parents you were going out for the night. They looked at you oddly, but didn’t say anything, only wishing you had a good time, telling you to be safe and to call once you got there, once you were on your way back and if something came up. Of course, they also asked who you were gonna be with, where were you gonna be, if someone was going to pick you up, who would bring you home. The whole interrogation. 

After taking a shower and dressing up, you called your friends hoping someone could give you a ride. Luckily for you, your best friend hadn’t arrived yet and was close by. He was always late for everything so you kind of figured that’s how it would be. 

“Hey pretty lady.” , he smirked at you as you got on the bike behind him, arms around his torso, “What made you change your mind?”

“Got bored.”, you answered simply.

“That 's weird. You're not one to get bored. But guess we’re actually having fun tonight so let ‘s go!” he answered, hyped as ever, you chuckled as he drove off to the beach. 

You lost sight of him as soon as you stepped on the beach. And that's on having fun tonight together, huh. “So, now what?” You asked yourself looking around for some familiar faces. You managed to spot some of your friends among the crowd but they seemed to be having fun engaged in conversation and you didn’t want to burden them. Yeah you had just arrived and you already were starting to regret coming, and being surrounded by a squirming crowd, all dancing and moving around wasn’t helping. You made a haste turn and gasped when you felt something spill over your top.

“Oh dammit.” The boy cried over the spilled drinks. Some had gotten on his T-shirt too. “I mean shit, I’m sorry dude. It was kinda your fault too though.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile as you looked up. “Oh shit. Sorry Y/N.”

“You’re great with apologies, Maybank.” He smiled back, but he grimaced seeing your ruined shirt. You noticed and looked down, the thin fabric of your blouse letting into view your bra. You crossed your arms over your chest trying to make it better, looking up at him again and smiling awkwardly to try and hide your embarrassment. But he could make out your flushed cheeks and your discomfort. He felt his own cheeks get warmer at the fact you caught him staring and that you crossing your arms definitely didn’t help. 

“I try my best. Care for a drink?” He offered you the one cup that didn’t spill over you. You scrunched your nose and nodded your head hesitantly, reaching for it. “Actually, can you wait here for a sec.?” You nodded again and there he left you, looking around awkwardly waiting for him to get back. You looked at your drink, swirling the liquid in the cup, questioning if you should drink it. You had never drinked before. And you were alone, well, JJ was with you but you didn’t know if he was actually coming back or if he had just grabbed the opportunity to spare you from your embarrassment. You took a sip, making a face - there goes the no drinking thing you were talking about- and you saw JJ approach, eyes squinted looking for someone. He spotted you and smiled as he came to a stop in front of you, holding a drink and a sweatshirt. He offered the sweatshirt to you “Here.” 

“Oh, um, thanks.” He held your drink as you put his sweatshirt on. It was like two sizes bigger. You extended your arms making a silly pose and he approved, making you do a little spin. 

“Never seen you around one of these before. Didn’t think it was something you liked.” He started walking, you by his side.

“I actually don’t like it. You just bumped into me right when I started to panic about being here.” You said jokingly although it was actually the truth. JJ let out a laugh. “But I thought I might do something different tonight. Get out of the comfort zone, you know?”

“And how’s that going?” He questioned, you could see a smile hidden by the rim of his cup. You smiled.

“Not bad. I’m actually talking with someone, I had my first drink…” You said, and downed the last of said drink. “Not a fan of them to be honest.” you made a face and blinked a few times, not liking the taste. 

“No way.” He said incredulously. You nodded, letting out an affirmative sound. “ What would people think of me for corrupting Y/N Y/L/N?” 

“So bad of you.” you played along. “Nah, it’s just one drink. As long as you drink moderately it’s fine. Also I could’ve refused, so you’re not corrupting me.” You shrugged, then widened your eyes because of all your blabbering. “I went too deep on that joke. I'm sorry.” You smiled nervously, smoothing your hair. He just laughed.

“That ‘s fine. You have no idea how much shit I can talk.  My friends are shutting me up all the time. Wait- Not that you were talking shit- Oh God.” It was your turn to laugh about how conflicted he looked. He smiled and calmed down seeing that you didn’t take it wrong. 

There was a beat of silence before he spoke up again, “So… You wanna go somewhere more quiet?” The question caught you off guard. He sensed your hesitation and rushed to explain. “I mean, since you don’t really like parties. Thought you might want to head over to somewhere else? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. “ 

You nodded, “Wait, but what about you? I don’t wanna make you leave.” you worried

He brushed it off. “There’s always more of these.” 

So you both went further down the beach, the sounds from the party heard from a distance. You sat down and saw him take out something from his pockets. “Do you mind if I burn one?” You shook your head. He lighted it up and took a hit, slowly letting the smoke out after. You caught yourself staring, and he also caught you, showing you a smirk,  “You probably haven’t smoked before either, right?” He said mockingly. You pushed him jokingly, then overthinking about if you weren’t getting too confident around him. You hadn’t spoken more than a couple times before. 

“No, I haven’t.”

“Such a good girl.” he cooed, “I shouldn’t be the one to make you drink and smoke in the same night but, who’s better than me?” He offered you the blunt. 

“Yeah right.” you answered sarcastically, and once again hesitated but took it from his hand - there goes the “no smoking”. The same night, in less than an hour. You just need to hook up with someone and you shall check out your To-Not-Do-But-Do List-. You looked at it and proceeded to put it in your mouth. 

“Easy there.” He warned as you inhaled the smoke. You coughed it out, laughing as he caressed your back, trying to ease you. 

“Whoah.” you blinked a few times as you tried to get used to it. And that's how you spent the rest of the night there talking and smoking. Usually you had trouble making conversation but with the help of the alcohol and weed you were more easy going tonight, mostly talking nonsense and laughing at everything, which had JJ glancing at you with an amused smile. “Yeah, she definitely had never smoked before.”  He saw as you scrunched your nose, suddenly, and smelled his sweatshirt that you were wearing. “I smell like weed.”  You said, disgusted. Apparently, you forgot you were smoking. “And I’m wearing a boy’s sweatshirt.” Your eyes widened as you lifted your arms and looked at the sleeves of his sweatshirt as they dangled when you moved them around. “My parents are gonna kill me. Twice!” You cackled almost hysterically, which made JJ burst in laughter too at the sight of you. 

It was a little past midnight and after running out of energy, you had fallen asleep profoundly, leaning over JJ, your head resting on his shoulder. He didn't bother to wake you up at first, being very comfortable with how you two were. But then he almost fell asleep too and it was pretty late so he gently tried to shove you awake. “Y/N.” you grunted, and tried to ignore him. “Y/N we have to go. It 's late. Don’t wanna fall asleep here for some creep to come and kill us.” 

“You can fight them.” you mumbled. “You look like a very brave courageous prince.” 

“Do I now?” He looked at you, trying to hold back a smile. “Yeah this prince you’re talking about is lacking money. And sleep. So let 's go.” He helped you stand up. You made eye contact with him and your eyes widened. “What now?” he questioned, amused.

“Your eyes are very pretty.” 

“Oh you’re gonna make me blush. C’mon, I can give you a piggyback ride until we meet with John B.” In fact, he did blush a little by the intensity of your gaze. Not that you would notice being as you were right now. You fell asleep again almost immediately once on his back, your head resting on top of his. He almost dropped you when you got too relaxed and your grip around his shoulders got a little too loose. He hoped John B hadn’t left.  He didn't feel like walking all the way to the château. He figured you’ll stay with them. He didn't know where you lived and even if he did he wasn’t about to drop you off high out of your mind. 

“Hey, I was looking all over for you. Kie and Pope already left.” John B started as he looked at your sleeping figure being carried by his friend, his curious eyes making the question for him already but he spoke nevertheless, “You’ve been with her all this time?” 

“Yeah. She’s out like a light. And she doesn’t look like it but she’s starting to feel heavy so let’s get to the Twinkie. Also, have you seen my backpack? I thought I left it around here." He started to make his way to the van, John B keeping his pace.

“ Yeah, I grabbed it when I started looking around for you." He said before saying what he really wanted to say at that moment, "Listen, man, I know you… Are JJ, " He missed the puzzled look JJ was giving him, "Like the JJ Maybank. Big time player.  But Y/N. Out of all people? How did you even get with her? We actually know her and it would suck to hurt her feelings.”John B kept going, just astounded with how far JJ could go.

“We didn’t do anything of whatever you’re imagining.” JJ squinted his eyes at him. “I bumped into her and we stayed together after that, we chatted, drinked, smoked a little…”

“You let her smoke? Since when does she smoke?” 

“Since today man, I don’t know. And it’s not like I forced her to do it. She can make her own decisions. Also she was with me so it’s not like something would have happened to her.” John B raised a brow, “At least nothing that she didn't want.”  He opened the sliding door of the van. “Just help me out, dude. Geez, you’re supposed to be my best friend bro. Wouldn’t hurt to show a little trust.” 

“Precisely because I am your best friend is why I care about it.” He helped JJ get you inside of the van. 

“If someone was looking at us they would say we’re kidnapping her.” John B stated as he made his way to the driver’s seat and started the Twinkie. JJ took a seat, while you laid there sleeping, your head resting on his lap. He made sure you wouldn’t move and smack your face with the van or fall to the floor. When they arrived at the Château, they both helped you out of the van and got you inside the house. JJ went to bother a sleeping Kie, asking her to help you get changed out of your clothes, though he thought you looked cute with his sweatshirt on. 

_________________

You woke up, slightly disoriented but well rested. The smell of food reached your senses. Stretching, you looked around and saw you were sleeping next to Kiara Carrera. How the hell did you get there? 

“Goodmorning.” she said, startling you. 

“Good- Morning?” You stared at her. Kie saw the confusion in your expression and smiled. Teasing a little wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Did you enjoy last night?” Kie asked, and purposely got a bit closer, looking at your lips.

“What?”

“You don’t remember?” she clicked her tongue. “That’s a shame though.”

“What? No! No. I do remember.” Kie raised a brow, “ No, I was with JJ-” you stopped yourself, “Not! Not in a sexual way.” You rushed to explain. Sheepishly, fidgeting with your hands, you looked up at her again. “Did we really…” God,I thought I was straight. I mean, I am straight. Kie is really pretty though. God you just had sex for the first time and you don’t even remember,  you shook your head to stop the nonsense that were your thoughts at the moment.

At that point, Kiara couldn’t hold it anymore and started laughing at the conflict you were having in your head, your troubled state written all over your face.

“You two! Come and get breakfast before we eat all of it. And Kie, stop messing with Y/N.” You heard John B and JJ shout from the kitchen. You were really hungry, now that they mentioned food. And it smelled really nice earlier. You both got up and went to the dinner table, where you found JJ fixing up a plate for you. He motioned for you to sit. “Goodmorning.” He said, giving you a smile. “You good?” 

Nervously, you greeted him back, nodding. You probably made some trouble for them last night, especially for JJ. You all sat at the table, chatting and recalling stuff from last night. Guess you still were straight, and didn’t hook up with Kie. She was just taking advantage of you not being able to process anything too well before eleven in the morning and making fun of you. You were enjoying yourself but, 

“I should be going home.” you said, excusing yourself.

“I can go with you. Also, your phone went off a few times this morning while you were sleeping.” JJ mentioned casually as he stood up after you. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You told him but he brushed you off, saying it was no problem.  “Oh my God, my phone! I mean, my parents! They’re totally gonna kill me!” The other two held their laughter towards your distressed face and JJ grimaced as he motioned for you to follow him and you went to the room he always stayed in. He gestured towards your clothes and your phone. He had washed your clothes earlier after he woke up. When you looked at your phone’s screen, you saw all the missed calls you had from your mom, your dad, even your brother. Your stomach dropped. 

“You didn’t tell them you were going out?” JJ asked. 

“I did! I just never said I was going to stay at someone else’s place!” As if on cue, your phone went off again. You both looked at each other and you answered, already grimacing at what was coming.

“Hey ma’.” 

JJ frowned, your voice sounded different for a moment. Then he heard a loud voice from the other end of the call, most likely your mom’s. He couldn’t make out what she was saying because it was in Spanish? and she was talking way too fast in a hysterical tone. He looked curiously as he heard you both.

“¡No! Mami estoy bien. Es que se hizo tarde y me quedé en casa de Kiara.” You lied, saying you stayed over at Kie’s as your mom asked you who the hell was Kiara. “Una amiga, ma. Perdón que no dije nada. Ya voy para allá. Sí, sí, bye.”  You sighed. “I’m grounded.” you fake smiled and looked over at JJ. He gave you an apologetic look. “Well I don’t really go out much.” You laughed nervously. “I should go. I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you guys.” 

“Yeah, yeah, no I mean, not at all.”  JJ answered awkwardly, a hand brushing his hair back  as he smiled at you nervously. 

They let you take a shower and change back to your clothes before making your way out. You thanked them, and both you and JJ made your way out of the château and back to your house. You decided to walk, since it wasn’t too far. You stopped a couple houses before yours, telling JJ that going back after staying out the night without telling anybody and coming back home with a boy was just you asking to get yourself killed. He laughed, telling you that he understood. 

“I have no problem introducing myself to them. Since I am indeed very brave and courageous and all.” He teased, trying to see if you remembered what you said to him last night. You did remember, but did your best to play it off as if you didn’t, feeling kinda embarrassed. He laughed it off when you looked at him as if you didn’t know what he was talking about, a little hurt but he wouldn't make a big deal about it. You were high as a kite anyways. “Forget it.” he finished with a sigh. “See you around?” He asked, hopeful

“Sure. See ya around.” You gave him a hug, then started to make the rest of your way back to your house. You turned to look at him once more and gave him a smile and a small wave. He smiled and waved back. It would be hard to take that smile off his face for the rest of the day. 

[ssahotchhner]

till death do us part

just a lil something about the reader and hotch breaking up, but the reader doesn’t know the real reason the relationship ended. lemme know what you think and what you’d like to see from me next (:

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: nothing except a car accident i’m pretty sure, brief mention of guns. mostly pure fluff and angst (:

questions, comments, concerns

You roughly wipe the tears on your cheeks with the heel of your hand, annoyed at yourself for crying.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N, this isn’t how I wanted things to go.” Aaron’s watching you put all your things in a cardboard box.

“It’s fine, Aaron.”

He sighs and out of the corner of your eye you see the way his hands twitch at his sides. He’s so used to being the one to comfort you, he doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s the reason you’re in pain. 

You finish packing the box and walk to the door of his apartment. Jack sees you and runs after you, “Y/N, you just got here! Why are you leaving? Can’t we play first?”

You take a deep shuddering breath and turn back around to face Jack, forcing a smile. “Not today buddy, another time.” You kneel to his level and reach out to ruffle his hair, “I promise, okay?”

He frowns at you, “Why are you crying?”

Aaron runs a hand over his face, clearly upset about having now upset not one, but two of his favorite people.

“I’m just sad, buddy, but I’ll be okay.”

“But why are you sad? Did Daddy do something wrong?”

Fuck, that kid is perceptive. “No, honey, Daddy and I both decided that it would be better if we didn’t see each other for a while.”

“Then why are you sad?”

“Because sometimes, even though you know something is for the best, it can still make you very sad.”

Jack’s still frowning and he reminds you so much of his dad, it’s stifling, “Am I ever going to see you again?”

It’s all you can do to keep your face from crumpling, even Aaron has to turn away, “Of course, Jack. We’ll still hang out, I promise.”

“Jack, why don’t you go play in your room now, I’ll be there in a minute.”

When Jack is out of sight, you sigh and put your face in your hands. Holding in your sobs, but just barely.

“I’m sorry,” It’s the most emotion you’ve heard in his voice this whole time, “I--I should have told him myself.”

You rise to standing, “It’s okay.” You pick up your box of belongings, “You’re sure this is what you want?” You know the answer, but you have to ask another time.

He looks at you hopelessly, “I’m sorry.” 

You were getting sick of hearing that phrase. You only nod and then open his door, walking down the hallway without looking back.

***

“Y/N, we’re all going out for burgers tonight, you coming?” Morgan plants himself on your desk and both Prentiss and Reid look around him hopefully.

“Hotch too?”

Morgan stares at you a moment, “You know, he asked the same about you?”

“Hm, strange.” You muse, not looking up from your report, “You can tell him I’m not coming, I have reports to finish.” Morgan plucks your pen from your hand, “Hey!”

“I know you guys are obviously going through something right now, but we’re still a family. I know he still cares about you and you still care about him.”

You sigh, “I know. I just can’t handle seeing him outside of a professional setting right now,” You look away from him as your eyes water, “It hurts too much.”

Morgan puts a hand over yours, “Okay. We’re all just a phone call away, alright? Don’t work too late.”

“I won’t,” You give him a small smile, “You guys have fun tonight.”

He smiles back and leans over to kiss your head, “Not without you, we won’t.”

They all say goodbye to you and Hotch walks out of his office, telling the others he’ll catch up with them in a minute. He walks down into the bullpen and stands in front of your desk, “I don’t have to go tonight if you want to go.”

“Aaron, don’t do this. I've already made up my mind. Go with them, they’re waiting. I have reports to do anyway.”

“I’m the unit chief, I know you don’t owe me any reports.”

You sigh, “I’m fine. Please just go.”

“I don’t want it to always be like this.”

“It won’t. I’ll move on eventually, but right now…” You chew the inside of your cheek and look away from him, “I still love you too damn much.”

He stands there for a few more moments and then he starts to back away, “Don’t stay here too late.” He says quietly and he’s gone before you can reply.

With everyone gone, you sigh deeply and lay your head on the desk for a while. You’d been on this team for six years now. Three of those years you had dated Aaron. The team had known, of course, which only made now even harder. And here Aaron was, completely unaffected. If you didn’t work here you’d bet the team wouldn’t even know he had just ended a three year relationship.

And God, did that hurt. That he could so easily just turn everything off when you could barely get out of bed every day. You wouldn’t go back to your apartment tonight, you hated being there. You used to spend nearly five days a week at Hotch’s place and now being at your own empty one felt suffocating.

Finally, you stand, and you walk to the one place you know you shouldn’t. Your hand hovers over Aaron’s office doorknob. Swallowing your fear, you walk in. The smell hits you first. It smells like him, it always has, but you haven’t been in here since the breakup so it hits you pretty hard. Your eyes travel over all of his things and land on the couch. He’s left his gray quarter zip fleece draped over the arm. Against your better judgement, you walk over to the couch and pick up the fleece.

***

“I told you to bring a jacket.” Aaron’s smiling at you as you both walk by the water. You had finished eating dinner at an Italian restaurant nearby and you had asked Aaron if you could walk for a bit before going home.

You roll your eyes, “I know, you’re always right.”

He chuckles and then starts pulling his gray fleece over his head, “Here.”

“Honey, no, then you’ll be cold.”

He ignores your protests and puts it over your head himself. It’s big on you, your arms swim in it and it falls to your mid thigh. You smile up at him, feeling much warmer already, “Thank you.”

Aaron smiles down at you, draping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you to him, kissing you softly, “Of course.”

***

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re pulling the fleece over your head and laying down on the couch, silent tears running down your cheeks. You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that it’s the first time you had in nearly five days.

***

“Did you and Y/N have an argument?” Prentiss asks Hotch as they both sip on a beer. The rest of the team is busy immersed in their own conversation.

Hotch looks at Emily and then away, “No. We broke up.”

Emily raises her eyebrows, “What? Why?”

He takes a long swig of his beer, stalling, “You should ask her. I don’t know if she wants people knowing.”

“So she broke up with you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Come on, Hotch, spit it out. I won’t tell anyone.”

He looks at the rest of the team who are obviously not paying attention and then back to Emily, “She wanted to get married.”

Emily waits for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Okay… So?”

“And I wouldn’t propose.”

“Well, why not?”

He looks up at the ceiling and it takes Emily a moment to realize he’s trying not to cry, “How am I supposed to get married again knowing the target it put on Haley? How am I supposed to knowingly subject another person that I love to that?”

“Hotch, by being a member of this team, Y/N already has a target on her back. You know that.”

“Being my wife and being my colleague are very different and if someone like Foyet targets me again, who do you think they’ll go after, Emily? The team or my wife?”

Emily watches him for a moment, “You know, by that logic, you should’ve left Jack in protective custody with another family.” Hotch glares at her, “What? It’s true.”

They’re both quiet for a few moments before Emily speaks again, “You didn’t tell her all of this, did you?”

“She would have just said all the things you did. It was easier to just convince her I didn’t love her enough to marry her.”

Emily forces a laugh, “You played on her insecurities.”

“I’m not proud of it.”

“Well,” She sighs, “I don’t think you need me to tell you I think you’re being stupid. I hope you come to your senses before you lose her for good.”

Hotch knocks back the rest of his beer and orders another.

***

When Aaron walks into his office the next morning to find you sleeping on his couch in his fleece, it’s hard to stifle the tenderness he feels.

He quietly shuts the door and sets down his things before kneeling in front of you. “Hey,” He says softly, hoping not to startle you, “Y/N.” When you don’t stir he hesitantly puts his hand on yours and you groan a little before your eyelids begin to flutter.

When your eyes finally open you stare at him and you smile and he knows what’s happening. Those first few seconds after waking when you don’t remember what’s happened, “Aaron.” You say sweetly and you even reach out to touch his cheek, but then your smile falls and your hand recoils. “Oh my God.” You murmur and sit up, “I’m sorry, I-- I must’ve fallen asleep, I shouldn’t be in here--”

“It’s okay.” Aaron says and watches you struggle out of his fleece. Part of him wishes you would keep it on, “You should go home, get some rest. You’ve been here all night.”

He turns and walks to his desk, thinking you’d leave now, but you still sit on the couch. “When you go home at night… I know you have Jack, but… Does it feel as empty for you as it does for me? Because I can’t… I can’t go home, Aaron. The only reason I could sleep in here last night was because, surrounded by all your things, it felt like you were here.”

He barely looks at you, “Go home, Y/N. I’ll have JJ call you if there’s a case.”

The dismissal feels like a slap in the face. “Yes sir.” You grind out and leave before he can reply.

Everyone watches you storm from the bullpen, but nobody tries to stop you. Hotch has the urge to throw everything off his desk in anger, but there’s a knock at his door, “What?” He snaps in annoyance. It’s Rossi. “I’m sorry, Dave.” 

“Rough morning, huh? I saw Y/N leave, she looked upset.”

“The breakup has been… difficult for her.” He says slowly.

“Just for her?”

“I thought I was doing what was best for both of us.”

“And now?”

He sighs, “Jack asks for her everyday and I miss her even more than he does.”

“Have you told her that?”

“What good would that do either of us?”

“She might not be so angry if she knew you were hurting too.”

“If she knew I was upset then she wouldn’t understand why I broke it off in the first place.”

Rossi’s quiet for a moment, “Emily told me what really happened,” Aaron looks like he’s going to lecture both Rossi and then Prentiss about keeping things private, but Dave holds up a hand, “Aaron, you’ve got to stop punishing yourself for what happened to Haley.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Don’t give me that crap. Do you think Haley would want you and Jack to be alone forever? She’d be so thrilled that Jack has another woman in his life. You would take that away from both of them?”

Aaron’s shaking his head, “You couldn’t possibly know what she would want.”

“I do know that you self destructing this relationship lets Foyet win. You may have killed him, Aaron, but you’re still letting him control you. Just… Don’t let him win.” 

When Dave leaves Aaron paces his office, thinking about Foyet, Haley, Jack, and you. He walks back to his desk, sits down, and unlocks the drawer to his right. There’s a tiny velvet box, sitting there, staring up at him. Mocking him. You see, he had bought you a ring over a year ago and thought about asking you to be his wife every single day since. And every time, he reminded himself what had happened to the last woman he made his wife and he would lock up the ring again.

This time, he pockets the ring and runs out of the office without telling anyone where he’s gone.

***

There’s frantic knocking at your door and for a second you think something’s wrong. You grab your gun and hesitantly approach the door and look through the peephole.

“Jesus, Aaron.” You say as you swing open the door, holstering your gun, “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He says and walks past you.

“By all means, come in.” You murmur sarcastically. “Did something happen?” You say louder.

Aaron’s looking around your apartment which is in a state of disarray. Clothes and dirty dishes everywhere. Your box of things you took from his place still sits at the door. All the framed photos of you and Aaron or you and Jack have either been taken down or placed facedown on their surfaces. 

“I would have cleaned up if I knew you were coming.” You say.

Aaron looks back at you and really looks at you, “Do you remember the first time I told you I loved you?”

You almost laugh, “What the hell is this?”

“Please, just… Humor me.”

You glower at him, “Of course I remember.”

***

The unsub had a child and he was driving like hell to get out of the city before you caught up with him. You and Hotch had ran straight to the car when the team realized the child was missing, peeling away from the curb so aggressively, the rubber burned on the asphalt. 

Hotch is driving the streets like a maniac while you’re on the phone with the rest of the team trying to figure out the way the unsub might be headed. 

“We got a visual he’s heading west on ninth.” 

Hotch made a hurried right hand turn. Derek was still talking and the last thing you heard was his frantic warning that the unsub was running a light through an intersection you and Hotch were coming from. But the warning came too late, the unsub collided with your side of the car so forcefully, the SUV tipped on its side.

You don’t remember much from the accident, but sometimes you were sure you could hear Aaron calling your name. The next time you wake, you’re in a hospital.

“Hey there, babygirl, you gave us quite a scare back there.” Morgan’s squeezing your hand and his face comes into focus.

“Aaron.” You manage quietly.

“He’s fine. Barely even injured, just a concussion. You took the brunt of it. I’m sure he’ll bully his nurses into bringing him in here once he realizes you’re awake.”

You laugh, but it hurts, “Ow.” You murmur, “Did… did you get him? Is the kid okay?”

“Yeah, we got him, he’s back with his parents.”

“Good…” Your vision is going fuzzy, “That’s… good…”

***

The next time you wake up there’s a thumb softly stroking the back of your hand, “Hey.” You know that voice, that sound of relief in his voice. You’re already smiling before you’ve opened your eyes.

“Aaron.” You manage.

You feel his hands on your face and your surroundings start to materialize, “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Are you hurt?” 

He laughs and gently kisses your forehead, leaving his head resting against yours, noses touching, “You almost died and you want to know if I’m hurt?”

You push your head into him even more, wanting to be closer, “I woke up earlier. Morgan said… You had a concussion.”

“Yes. And you have broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a concussion.”

“Hm,” You hum, “Looks like you and Jack are going to have to take care of me for a while.”

“I have something to tell you. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since he hit us.”

You frown, “What is it?”

“When… When the car hit us and you were laying there, I really thought you were going to die and I wasn’t going to get a chance to tell you.”

You frown, “Tell me what, baby?”

“That I love you. I… struggle sometimes to express what I’m feeling, but in our line of work I can’t afford to be. So I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

You smile and your eyes water, “I love you so much.”

***

“Why are you asking about this?” You ask Aaron now, arms crossed across your chest.

“Because, I promised myself then that I would never miss another opportunity to tell you how I’m feeling.”

You make a frustrated noise, “No offense, Aaron, but I’m struggling to deal with my own emotions. I don’t have the bandwidth to carry yours as well.”

He’s shaking his head, “I came here because I needed to tell you that… The things I said to you when we were breaking up, I didn’t mean them.”

“You mean when you told me I wasn’t good enough for you to marry? When you said I wasn’t good enough for you and Jack?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it!” You snap.

“When Haley got killed, I-- I didn’t know how I could, in good conscience, let someone in like that again. And… then… with you, I had let you in without even realizing what I was doing. And then before I knew it, you were asking about marriage and I panicked. I… I couldn’t stand the idea of you having a target on your back because of me--”

“I don’t need you to baby me, I can protect myself.”

“I knew you would say that which is why I convinced you instead that I just didn’t want to marry you.”

Tears ran down your face and Aaron took a step to you, but you move away, “You knew my biggest fear was not living up to Haley, I confided in you about it more than once. And you…”

“I’m sorry. I thought I was protecting you.”

“So, what? Why did you come here?”

He sighs, “Because… I realize I was wrong to push you away. I miss you every second of every day and I don’t want to continue this way.”

“Then what do you want, Aaron?” Slowly, so slowly you think maybe you’re imagining it, Aaron gets down on one knee, “Aaron, no, don’t-- Here? In my disgusting apartment?”

He takes out a velvet box and opens it so you see a ring, “I love you and I don’t care about your messy apartment.” He’s smiling, his eyes watering, “I never thought I’d be truly happy again after Haley, but you changed my life. And you changed Jack’s life, too. I can’t live without you in my life and neither can he. So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

You’re nodding slowly, tears falling down your cheeks. He gets up off his knees and takes your shaking hand and slides the ring on before taking your face in his hands and kissing you tenderly. “I love you so much.” You murmur into his mouth, “Please don’t leave me again.”

“Never,” He pulls away just an inch to kiss your forehead, “Do you want to go tell Jack?”

Your grin widens, “I would love that.”

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 8

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Welcome back to Part 2 of the HPHM Rockstar AU! New location, new songs, new drama. Buckle up, we're going for a ride!

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Language

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell

You keep on saying you'll be mine for a while

You're looking fancy, and I like your style

You drive us wild, we'll drive you crazy

You keep on shouting, you keep on shouting

I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day

~ Kiss - Rock And Roll All Nite ~

Despite it being her third tour with Equinox now, Lizzie would probably never stop being amazed at the incredible machinery that stood behind every single one of their shows.

Now, two weeks after they had started out in London, their route had seen them through Bristol and on to Birmingham. All the familiar routines had established themselves again as if they hadn’t spent a whole month apart at all. Like cogs in a well tuned machine, everyone was working together in well established patterns to make each show unforgettable for those who came to see them play.

It didn’t matter whether one was part of the tech crew, the management, security or the band themselves; they were all like a big, chaotic but loveable family. Of course, Lizzie couldn’t deny that this time around there was considerably more tension to be felt backstage than she was used to, but fights were something happening even in the best of families; at least, that’s what she was telling herself.

Their soundcheck being over, Lizzie had just left the stage with Skye, waiting for the others to catch up. Even though the roof of the arena they were playing in tonight was still closed, Lizzie could feel a bead of sweat running down her spine.

It had been uncharacteristically hot for weeks now, very unusual for a British summer. Not that she was complaining, Lizzie typically loved everything about the hot weather; but the dampness that it brought with it made it almost unbearable to move, setting everyone’s nerves on edge. Hopefully it would just rain soon and be done with it; there was nothing better to clear the air than a good summer storm.

At least for them, however, the heat of the sun would soon be replaced by the spotlights burning down on them. Even after so many years of playing on stages of every size and format, Lizzie had trouble fighting the nervous feeling spreading from her stomach through her body. She was always the first one to enter the stage, the beat of her drums building up the mood until one after the other of her friends would enter and add their own instruments to the sound. As soon as she started playing she was in her element, every flare of nerves forgotten; but until then, she was stuck feeling like in free fall.

Lizzie reached into the pocket of her shorts, her fingers finding the familiar shape of the red plectrum she was always carrying with her. It had belonged to Orion before it had found its way into her possession; it was one of the plectrums he had used on the first tour they had ever played. Without thinking about it, she drew it out and let it wander through her fingers, a fun little trick Orion had taught her to help channel her focus when her stage fright was setting in.

“What’s that you got there, little rockstar?”

Charlie had finished his work on Merula’s keyboard and joined them at the stage entrance. Lizzie hadn’t noticed him approaching and jumped when he spoke, dropping the plectrum to the ground. Before she could pick it up again, Skye had gotten hold of it, turning it around between her fingers with a confused look.

“That looks familiar,” she mused, examining the colourful piece of plastic. “Is that one of our old plectrums?”

Lizzie tried snatching it from her hands but Skye quickly moved it out of her reach.

“No, it’s not, it’s just a lucky charm.”

She could tell Skye didn’t buy her explanation. “Why would you have one of these?”

Lizzie scowled at her friend as she tried in vain to reach Skye’s hand. “None of your business, Parkin. Give it back.”

Skye made an indignant sound as Charlie jumped to Lizzie’s aid; playing out his advantage in height, he unceremoniously plucked the plectrum from Skye’s fingers and handed it back to Lizzie with a wink. Giving him a grateful look, she let it disappear in the depths of her pockets.

“You’re a real spoilsport, Weasley,” Skye snorted.

“And you’re a nuisance,” Lizzie said in Charlie’s stead.

Charlie shook his head. “Hearing you two talk, I might just believe the rumours about your relationship.”

“I do have standards, you know,” Lizzie rolled her eyes, chuckling at Skye’s sound of protest.

Lizzie’s attention was drawn away from their bickering when she saw Orion and Everett were still standing on stage, engaged in a heated discussion. She stifled a sigh; Everett was still at odds with Orion’s decision to perform the new songs himself. There wasn’t one day he would spare them his complaints. Although Everett had always been a person with a temper, Lizzie couldn’t remember him ever being angry at one of them for so long.

Orion, however, wasn’t responding to Everett’s aggressive demeanour. Ever the calm and collected person, it took a lot more for him to lose his centre; Lizzie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him anything but level-headed at all. And sure enough, even when Everett left him standing with a dismissive gesture, he only looked after him with a tired expression.

In contrast, Everett’s face was clearly showing his annoyance. He tried to hide it behind his usual sneer when he saw them looking, but the way his shoulders were tensed was speaking volumes. His posture only changed when he walked past where Artemis was still working on her explosives. She was bent deeply over the igniter she was wiring, so concentrated on her task she didn’t even notice Everett coming up behind her.

“A little lower, sweetheart. If you have to mess with our pyros, you might as well give us a proper show.”

Artemis straightened up with a face like thunder. “Go fuck yourself.”

Everett shrugged. “I don’t need to, I have plenty of people willing to do that for me. I can bump you up the queue if you like?”

Rolling her eyes, Artemis gathered up her things and moved to the other side of the stage, as far away from all of them as possible.

“Why can’t he just shut up for a second,” Charlie growled as they watched Everett strut off with a self-satisfied smirk. “I’m making no progress with her whatsoever. I’m still trying to convince her that we’re not all dickheads. Ev’s attitude is definitely not helping.

“Is it still so bad with her?” Lizzie wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Charlie admitted, “I don’t know how to get through to her. She’s a tough nut, that one.”

“Tell me about it,” Lizzie said. “I’ve never met anyone so determined to not be nice to anyone.”

“Surprised there’s people out there not wanting to be your friend?” Merula scoffed as she joined them.

“Actually, I am,” Lizzie said. “I even managed to convince you to be my friend, after all.”

“If you want to call us friends,” Merula snorted, but Lizzie knew she was teasing her.

She chuckled and turned to Charlie. “Do you have any idea why she’s so frosty?”

Charlie shrugged, looking as clueless as they came. “If only I knew. She’s giving me no chance to find out either, as soon as the work’s done, she’s off.”

“Sounds like she needs to get a few drinks in to loosen up,” Skye said. “Probably much easier to handle her then.”

Charlie looked at her incredulously. “You do realise how creepy that sounds, right?”

“Don’t be stupid, you know what I mean,” Skye rolled her eyes, “but seriously, who says no to a free drink and some good company?”

Charlie watched Artemis work her way through the remaining igniters. He didn’t seem convinced by Skye’s suggestion but shrugged anyway. “Might as well give it a shot at this point, but if she bites me, I’ll hold you accountable.”

***

Just like the weather forecast had promised, the temperatures hadn’t dropped one bit until it was time to enter the stage. And even if a cooling breeze would be blowing outside, it would stand no chance of reaching the fired up masses filling up the arena.

Lizzie wasn’t sure where it was warmer, down between the thousands of people singing along to their music, or up with them on stage where the heat of the spotlights made her wish for a cold shower.

They were already halfway through the setlist and as always, time seemed to be racing by.

Their fans were fantastic tonight as well; the arena was sold out up to the last seat and the crowd was incredibly enthusiastic. They were reacting to every prompt they were given, whether it was a challenge to cheer louder, sing along or clap to the beat. It was shows like these that reminded Lizzie time and time again that she had the best job in the world.

Everett was giving a stellar performance tonight; he had the whole stadium wrapped around his little finger like only he could, and the fans were cheering him on as he stepped back from the microphone to join the sound of his guitar with the rest of them.

Lizzie turned her head to Orion, who was already waiting for her to give him his cue. She counted down the remaining beats in her head before she gave him a nod. When he turned his attention from her and began playing his solo part, Lizzie couldn’t help but grin. The people were screaming themselves into a frenzy as Orion worked his magic on his guitar.

He never planned what he was going to do beforehand, not one solo the same as the day before. His brow was furrowed in concentration and his lips ever so slightly parted as his fingers flew up and down the neck of the guitar. In moments like these, everything else faded into the background for him; there was nothing left but him and his music.

As Lizzie watched his fingers dance with dizzying speed, her flushed skin burned at the memory of what other magic they were able to do. The thought almost made her miss a beat.

Almost.

She caught herself at the last moment before anyone could notice. She was glad everyone else was too busy to see the blush spreading on her face. But even if they had, they would never have suspected that it didn’t come from the incredibly high temperatures, but something else entirely.

The song ended with a bang, Lizzie hitting two cymbals and the bass drum at the same as KC let all the spotlights flare up. Almost blinded by the brightness flooding the stage, Lizzie closed her eyes and dipped her head back, breathing heavily. For a fraction of a second, the fading sound of the music was still hanging in the air, everyone holding their breaths, before it gave way to the cheers erupting from the crowd.

Lizzie smiled to herself, waiting for her racing heart to slow, before setting her mind onto the rhythm of the next song. The crowd was still cheering and she waited a moment longer until everyone was ready and Orion had stepped behind his own microphone. The next song was one of the unpublished ones and even two weeks after striking their deal with the label, Orion hadn’t let Everett sing one single verse of them.

Lizzie took a deep breath and set the rhythm by hitting her drumsticks against each other a few times. Luckily, it was one of the slower songs so they all had the chance to calm down a little. Orion’s melodic voice carried into the vast space of the stadium over the hushed crowd and Lizzie felt a shiver run down her spine; she had loved this song from the first time Orion had let her hear it.

The crowd seemed to share her opinion; many had taken out their phones and lit the screens, waving them through the darkness in what was looking like a sea of stars. It wasn’t quite the same sight as it had been when lighters had still been allowed in the auditoriums, but Lizzie was loving the sight nonetheless.

All of the new songs they had played so far had been very well received. They made sure to switch them every night so no one got too overexposed, but whatever ones Orion chose, they were always met with great enthusiasm.

The only unrecorded song they were playing night after night was, much to everyone’s surprise, not one of Orion’s creations. Even after Orion had given his consent, Everett hadn’t stopped pestering Ethan until he had agreed to give a few of Everett’s songs a shot. Most of them weren’t nearly as well liked as the ones Orion hadn’t even finished yet, but there was one song that had instantly become so popular with their fans that Ethan had decided to make it a permanent addition to the set list for the rest of the tour.

Everett had revelled in his triumph over Orion; at least that’s how he saw it. And Lizzie had to admit that it really was a catchy melody. But much to Everett’s dismay, whenever Orion picked up his guitar and did what he did best, all eyes were on him, and him alone. He was pouring his heart and soul into the music he played, and people could tell. Like the Pied Piper, he commanded everyone’s attention without even trying to.

That was probably what angered Everett most; the fact that Orion wasn’t even trying.

Even now, Everett was scowling darkly at Orion as he was singing the song in Everett’s stead. Lizzie tried to concentrate on keeping a steady beat, but her eyes were drawn back to their frontman’s menacing expression.

She couldn’t help the feeling that a storm was coming.

[txtmoalove]

CONFUSION(M)🔞

Pairing - Choi Yeonjun x Reader

Genre - Best Friends au! Smut, Comedy, Fluff.

Warnings! - Dom! Yeonjun, masturbation, sexual tension, dirty talk, phone sex.

Word count - 2k

Summery - what happens when a friendly conversation between friends , slowly becomes not so friendly anymore?

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Before you start to read! It's my very first one shot and I hope you'll like it! I don't know if it went out well, so there's that...Enjoy❤

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You two are the best of friends.

So why does Yeonjun keeps having wet dreams about you?

Plus, it's not really helping in his situation that your voice sounds so hot through the phone, not that it's not sexy in general.

It's night time , you lay on your bed with just your black panties on and a white skimpy tank top, you live alone and just finished college year, so now you just work and have fun on the weekends.

You hold your phone to your ear and listen to Yeonjun through the line.

It actually became a habit for you two to do nightly phone calls and just talk about stuff, you feel very open with Yeonjun and he feels the same.

"I don't know Jun.. If I'll go to that party you need to come with me, I don't want to go in there alone" you said and put your head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

Your voice sounds extremely sexy and a bit lower than usual on your phone calls and Yeonjun wonders if you do this to him on purpose.

Besides your voice, Yeonjun thinks that you also look really hot in general..

He won't lie and tell that he haven't thought about fucking you, he's been turned on to the thought of you.

But it had been so weird for him because you are his best friend and he doesn't know why he even thinks about you this way, all the situation is very confusing to him but he always tries to brush it off.

But then you call him at night because you are bored, and he listens to your beautiful voice that always manages to make him hard.

He fantasized about you moaning and screaming his name, but then wants to forget about it completely because it's not right at all.

To these thoughts... Yeonjun had many wet dreams about you and then had to take care of his hard dick leaking with precum , to finish himself off.

But he manages to keep himself together.

"You think I'm gonna leave you behind ? Ha! You made me laugh, of course I'll come" he replies and you smile even though he can't see "you're the best, you know that?" You tell him and he laughs "yeah, I know"

you giggle "well, don't get too cocky-"

"The thing is" Yeonjun cuts you off and you huff "I don't know why should I come with you, I know at some point you'll find a hookup and I'll be drinking alone" he frowns but then giggles "wait that sounds really depressing, scratch the last part" .

You laugh "hey! It's not my fault, you should find a hookup as well, besides, I haven't slept with someone in a long time" Yeonjun sighs but you didn't hear.

"I haven't slept with someone else in a long time either , Y/n. But who knows? I'll still go don't worry, maybe the benefit is for both of us" the last part stings you a bit.

You've never thought about Yeonjun hooking up with someone, the thought never crossed your mind, and now that he mentioned it ... You got a bit curious.

A very long time ago, you had a little crush on Yeonjun and you still think he looks absolutely amazing, but then, you two got along in a friendly way and you got closer like that as well.

Why hasn't he slept with someone for a while? Who wouldn't want him?

And out of Your curiosity you ask him "really? You haven't slept with someone in a while? I thought you hook up a lot" and Yeonjun is a bit surprised from your question because you never ask about these things.

"Well.. yeah, just wasn't feeling like it" by that he means he has a big problem that he cums only to the thought of you choking on his dick.

"Oh..." You say and you don't know why you feel kind of relieved.

Of course, many girls swoon for him and only want to jump his bones.

You imagine how would it even be with Yeonjun in bed. Would he be rough and degrading? Or submissive and-

Nope nope. Why would you think about that... But then again, the image of him fucking you makes your lower region warmer.

"Y/n?" You hear Yeonjun through the line "are you okay?" Now you are focusing on his voice, you've never noticed how deep and husky it really sounds. You also haven't noticed how your breathing was getting a bit ragged.

All of the sudden it feels so weird.. But in a good way that gets you so confused , why are you thinking about these things right now?

"Y-yes" you clear your throat "I'm fine! I was just curious.. that's all."

Yeonjun hums and you press your thighs together for relief, already feeling yourself starting to get wet, oh boy what have you got into...

"Mind if I ask the same question?" He asks , the sexual tension was rising every moment and instead of changing the subject you answer "yes you can".

You bit your lip and wanted to face palm yourself.

"I-i just" you stuttered a bit "it was like, a dry time for me.. just focused more on learning, wasn't feeling like that as well" you said honestly.

"Yeah I get that" his voice just turned to be more husky? You're probably imagining things now.

Now the call turned a bit quiet, you still lay on bed with your legs crossed tight from previous thoughts, looking at the ceiling.

"I'm bored , Yeonjun" you stated to hopefully change the subject, he coughed a bit through the line and then answered "what do you want me to do?" He asked and you licked your lips.

`Probably eat me out.. I'm so horny right now.` you say to yourself.

Wait what?! That's it.

You quickly stand up from bed in panic and before you went out of your room, you hit your leg hard against the wood of the bed.

You let out a pained moan escape your lips and sat back down on your bed.

"Fuck" Yeonjun curses "Y/n , what happened?"

Yeonjun doesn't know what really happened , but all the time that he was hard through all your conversation, your moan got his dick to throb and twitch.

He cursed and bit his lip, threw his head back against the headboard and quickly asked you what happened.

He can't take it anymore, he starts to palm himself through his boxer , he hisses and waits for your reply.

"I'm okay! I just hit my leg , that's all.." You lay back down and caress your leg, letting out a few quiet pained hissed moans.

Yeonjun almost groans himself, working himself through his boxers as he listens to your voice "o-oh okay.." He replies and applied a bit pressure on his dick.

`so fucking hot, damn...` Yeonjun thinks to himself, what he does was wrong but he really can't help himself when you sound and look like that, that's really fucked up.

"Yeonjun..." You relax a bit and say his name sweetly .

"Yeah..?" His voice completely husky and sexy, you lick your lips and try to control your breathing. Without noticing , you open your legs and start to touch yourself from the inside of your thighs, you feel yourself getting wetter by every second.

"Don't take me seriously or something I'm just curious.. u-uh.. Like, how are you in bed? W-when you sleep with someone I mean" you hesitated but asked anyway , Yeonjun let's out a big sigh of pleasure as he was also surprised from your question, he likes where this was going.

"How am I in bed? Um.. I mean, I'm good I guess? It's just that for me, it's all about making my partner go crazy, I'm in complete control all the time and I love it" he answered boldly without any shyness.

Your hand moved to touch your clit through your panties, the other one brings your shirt to ride upwards and touch your stomach, all the way to your breast.

`Fuck so he's the Dom type..` you tell yourself and try to keep it down with your moans as you put your headphones on to hear him easily.

Your mind tells you to stop but your body is begging for it.

"Oh.. t-that's nice.." You tell and sigh , Yeonjun on the other Hand released his dick from his boxers and starts to touch himself properly, smearing his precum and uses it as lubrication.

"Now that you asked me Y/n..." he almost groans out loud "I wonder how are you like in bed.. Would you like to tell me?" Yeonjun asked you as he strokes himself in a slow pace.

You're getting so turned on by his voice, part of you wished he could see you sprawled over your bed in a hot mess with a hand between your legs just because of him.

"I'm the opposite actually" you start to gain a bit more confidence "I like it when my partner controls me and my actions, gives me orders , I like to be submissive and manhandled" you confess to him and now you hear his own growl , you heart beats faster and you moan quietly at that.

Wow what the fuck, Yeonjun is so sexy, why are you realizing it only now?!

"God... Y/n you don't know what you're doing to me.. You like it when someone has the complete power over you , and your little self is so helpless you'll let them do anything?" Yeonjun asks you and now you add one finger inside your dripping pussy, you let a lewd shameless moan.

You hear Yeonjun clearly curses through the line "Oh fuck yes.. just like that Yeonjun, you read my mind" you whine to him and he groans.

"Baby girl... You're touching yourself right now?" He asks you and you hum "How can I not when you turn me on so much..." He drives you wild. You add another finger and you moan once again from the pet name he gave you.

"You dirty girl, you like it when I tell you these filthy things huh? I bet you want me to come over and spank your pretty ass for being so bad" he growls "you don't know how hard I am just from hearing your beautiful voice, angel.." He confessed and you gasp.

"I have my t-two fingers inside of me because of you Yeonjun.. I'm imagining it's your dick stretching my tight pussy" you work yourself harder and the other hand simulates your clit, you moan deliciously at the thought.

"Fuck go on and moan for me baby... You sound so hot and needy" Yeonjun chokes on a moan as he imagines himself ruining you completely with his dick "you know how many times I jerked off to the thought of fucking you?" He picked up his pace and groaned "if you were here with me, I'd press you up against a wall and fuck you so hard you'll be screaming my name for the whole neighborhood to hear" he said and meant it.

"Y-yeonjun!" You moan his name, you think you're falling apart, every word that comes out of his mouth only want to bring your High faster, you never thought that he could turn you on so much.

"Want you to bend me over and fuck me until I'll beg for you to go even harder on me, I want you to manhandle me ... " you let out a high pitched moan and continued to mercilessly finger yourself with your two fingers.

"Dirty whore, who knew you'd be into that shit.." He smirks even though you can't see him and strokes himself harder, he bites his lips and then licks them "add another finger for me" he ordered.

You gasp as you add another finger, the stretch was burning but it felt amazing "Yeonjun! F-feels so good!" You whine and shake, it was too hot , you lifted up your shirt and threw it to the side, you also removed your panties from your ankles.

"So hot..." You moan and continued to touch yourself "I want your fingers Yeonjun.. Want you to finger fuck me" you say to him and he almost cums at your words.

"Baby girl, what are you doing to me, FUCK" he says in a dangerous tone and groans loudly, you moan with him.

You just listen to each other as you two almost reach your highs.

"If you won't let me hear how you cum... I don't know what I'm going to do to you when I see you.." He warns you "I'll be so rough with you and fuck you like the slut you are for my cock.." .

Your moans get louder and you pick up your pace , you other hand comes down to grab the sheets below you and hold on for dear life to your incoming orgasm.

"G-god Yeonjun you're making me cum!" You scream his name and he strokes himself even faster, the feeling was intense.

"Yes.. cum for me baby" Yeonjun pants as he almost let's go himself "I don't want to stop hearing your sexy voic-" he chokes on his words as he moans and finishes himself off, hot white cum spills onto his stomach and he breathes heavily.

His orgasm seems to trigger your own , because the second he cums you finish with him and you let out a loud long moan as you spasm all over, your orgasm hitting you hard.

You feel yourself dripping on your sheets below, your mind goes absolutely blank.

You only hear the two of you breathing through the line.

"Wow.. what just happened.." You barely speak as you close your eyes for a second.

"I don't know, but I fucking loved it" Yeonjun answered you as he lays fully on his bed now , he puts his head on his pillow.

You giggle "Yeah.. it was really amazing Yeonjun.. even though I can't believe we got ourselves into this situation" Yeonjun snorts.

"You're so hot , Y/n , you gave me blue balls for such a long time" Yeonjun confessed and you smile.

"You're not so bad yourself, Sir.."

[dreamydarkblue]

bus stop and wishes

| randomscenarios |

rating: T

word count: 1850

tagging: @lasswithumor @ravenadottir

notes: so, sleeping is such a vulnerable thing to do next to someone. your body takes over and you don't know what kind of embarrassing thing you are gonna do but choosing to do that, at least in my books, is such a great way of showing trust. and to choose doing it in a public place, kind of showing the other person that you trust them to protect you from the world. that feels amazing and i wanted to convey that through my words, hopefully i succeeded at it. for the music suggestion level up by sigrid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bus stop was crowded as usual, the afternoon traffic was very loud. So many cars, long long roads, so many people trying to get somewhere. As hectic as it was, you were used to it and it didn't disturb you anymore. You kind of looked forward to it after a long day of school. It wasn't really understandable how you would miss this much noise during the day but there was one more thing that made you excited for it.

Your friend and you used the same bus and this particular friend of yours was very much becoming a crush. Not that you would ever say that to them but still, it was exciting for now at least. You would deal with the frustration and heartbreak later.

You walked through the crowd on the overpass, you wondered everyday how it continued to hold up with this much people on it. You don't know what kind of magic the builders used but it must have been pretty good. You went down the stairs and walked towards the bus stop. Why did you get nervous every time, you just walked up to them, waved a hand, they smiled at you and that was it.

You would get on the same bus but you never got around to sitting next to them. That was asking for embarrassment at that point if you did that. Still it was nice daydreaming about it, looking out the dirty bus window. Why were they always this dirty, did no one clean them? Well, you were sure the drivers were left to deal with it and they had enough work, so you couldn't really blame them. This bus’s driver was a single dad, you learned that when he needed someone to look after his child, as he needed to work an extra gig for that month's rent.

The child was so sweet, you remembered how they wanted to share their meal with you even though you told them that you weren't hungry at least five times. That day was one of the better ones from this year. As you looked at the child sleeping peacefully, their head in your lap and them under a soft blanket, you felt content and happy that you decided to help the driver that day. Every now and then you would bring them something you baked, it was so lovely, the way that the child's dimples showed themselves every single time.

For that busy of a bus stop, the bus you went on was very peaceful, probably because of its route. It was very long, had very few stops and most of the time, you would be late to anything you wanted to be on time for. But you didn't have anything planned for the most part and you liked the thought of them seeing you everyday.

You would put your bag on the seat next to you, considering most of the seats would be empty. Maybe some day, they would sit next to you, so you would have to take your bag onto your lap. Your wants from life were weird and very specific but you never understood the vague wants anyway. Those kinds were very tricky and easy to manipulate, you learned that very early on as you watched many genie related cartoons.

You were fascinated with the idea of them, you had your own lamp to rub on. Every night, you would rub it three times and wish for your parents to be more happy. You didn't realize without the specifics of it, it could mean very different things. You still remember how they became so happy, so fast in a few days. And then the illusion faded away and the act got tiring. At least you had your little sister, you were as close as one could get. Sure, it put a weight on your shoulders you didn't ask for, but it was nice knowing that you were useful for something at least.

You dared to let your eyes wander to their side of the bus, and found them with headphones on their head, looking down at their phone. They loved their phone, smiled at it a few times during the road. Was this creepy?

Yes, very much so, stop it.

You returned to look out the window, so many cars, the traffic was very busy today, more than usual which was really something. How was it possible getting more busy, you didn't know that. You let out a long, draggy sigh. Maybe you should have taken the other bus, it's not like they were going to notice you any of these days. If you were a bit more brave, maybe everything would have been perfect. You guys would talk and, maybe they would even like you.

No, don't be dumb please. That was very much against the odds. You didn't have anything exciting to make them excited, and don't you even get started on the looks department. It was just a fun thing to think about and dream. For a second to think that you could be loved back, and it wouldn't hurt like everything.

A rustling noise of clothes, you turned away from the window to find them in the seat in front of you.

What? When did they even...?

You looked at their sneakers, they must have been brand new. The whites of it were pristine clean, which was a really hard thing to accomplish if they weren't new. You realized that you were being rude staring at their shoes, so you looked up at them.

A warm look in their eyes, and an even warmer smile on their lips. You were going to say something when you remembered that they were still listening to their headphones.

You knew their inability to speak from the time you saw them talking with their friends. They never voiced their opinion but from the looks of it they could understand what the others were saying. And when they did say something, they used their hands. From that day on, you started taking sign language lessons, it was needed even if you didn't talk with them. Honestly, you wondered that day why you didn't take it before.

They realized you looking at them but not really seeing. They waved a hand and you returned to the bus.

You have embarrassed yourself in front of them, great, this was exactly the impression you wanted to leave.

You finally reacted and smiled sheepishly, they wrote on their phone and showed it to you, "Are you okay?".

"I am, sorry for the staring. I gaze out like that sometimes" you signed at them.

They were really surprised to find that out, eyes wide open and brows high up on their face. You giggled and said, "If you are comfortable with signing, we can do that."

"I didn't think you would know how to sign but i am happy to find out that you do.", they said. You got really embarrassed and flushed, knowing the context behind it. But you said, "Well, i am happy that i can too. It was hard at first but it was fun learning it.".

"I am really relieved now because i was nervous to come up to you. I thought you would get tired writing back and forth when i was in front of you but this makes it so much easier."

"To be honest, I wouldn't get tired from that either but this is nicer.", you said with a huge smile, your cheeks hurting.

Turns out, your wishes weren't messed with and you got the genie from Aladdin. For the next couple of days you talked at the bus stop, in the bus, at school, when you were home. Your late night texting was something you grew accustomed to. They were really fun to talk to, and your before little crush was now a big one. Did they realize it?

Hopefully not, you enjoyed being friends and you did not wish to mess that up.

Today the bus stop was calmer, it was surprising. Then you remembered the time, it was past seven so the commotion has calmed down. The math teacher had an extra lesson to get ready for the exam season, a very long lesson it was. Nonetheless you were happy that it ended, looking forward to getting home and sleeping like you were going into hibernation. You didn't expect to find them here. It was a welcome surprise, you liked their presence. You waved a hand and said "Hi!".

They looked tired, eyes almost closing and head lulling back, hitting the clear wall of the stop. They smiled lazily and waved a hand back. You stood next to them and waited for the bus.

When you got on it and sat at your usual spot, they sat next to you. With your bag on your lap, eyes casting a glance at their way. No matter the closeness of your guys' relationship, they never sat next to you. And this time was probably because of drowsiness, nothing special.

Don't start getting any ideas, keep your friend and stop acting weird.

Their eyes started closing after ten minutes or so, head dropping to the side. To the side you were on. To your shoulder.

Their head was on your shoulder... And they were sleeping peacefully... So peacefully, so beautiful. How were they so gorgeous? Maybe not everyone would think the same but there was no denying the pull. The pull of their energy, their warmness radiating from them. They made everyone so comfortable and relaxed, maybe they used the same magic the overpass builders used.

It felt so nice, their body turned towards yours just a slight bit, as if they were comfortable and open with you. It felt so nice knowing they trusted you enough to sleep next to you. Maybe all those hours wasted between the bus stop and your home did matter.

And then the bus stopped abruptly and they woke up. Realizing that they slept on you, they started apologizing. You assured them softly with your words, it even made you happy but you couldn't tell them that. A slight flush to your cheeks and then the bus started to move again.

They looked at you directly in the eye now, and you did the same. They smiled slowly and looked at your shoulder. Letting their gaze down, slowly putting their head on it once again.

This felt nicer, you thought. A conscious choice from them to lay their head on your shoulder. They chose this, and they were smiling. People smiled when they liked things, right? So they liked being this close to you, well, you liked it too.

Their hand was lifted from their lap to take yours. Theirs enveloped yours, for the first time after a long period of hope and its crumbles, it didn't lead to heartbreak.

Let it be, enjoy their company, you matter to them. Don't ruin it by your insecurities.

You tightened your hand around theirs, a small gesture but a big step from you.

[definitelynottony]

“December knows me well”

[I actually finished this before midnight! So consider it a Christmas present. Just really wanted to do a short one shot of them like randomly meeting/one night stand kind of romance. Pretty happy with it actually. It’s soft~] [Ao3]

“Hi there, reservation for Harrington.”

“Just the one key?” The front desk attendant asked. 

“Yup. Just the one." 

"And you’ll be staying with us till the—”

“27th.”

“Okay. Are you aware that there’s a chance of a storm coming in tomorrow night?" 

"No, didn’t hear about it.”

“Okay, if this is a Christmas trip though I need to inform you that we’re cancelling our holiday events. So if you’re here to meet with family or—”

“Nope. No family. Just here for some R&R." 

"But won’t you—”

“Max! Will you just give the guy his damn room key!” A harsh voice called from a room behind the desk area. 

“Right. Sorry, you’re all set Mr. Harrington. Cabin 235." 

"Thank you.” Steve winced at her calling him Mr.Harrington. He was not his father. But he gathered his things from the nosy attendant, tried to see if he could whisper a thanks to the man in the back room for saving him from twenty questions. But he couldn’t see him. 

“You can take the lifts to your cabin. They’re outside to the back. Oh, or you can wait for Billy-I mean Mr. Hargrove, he’ll be heading down to the camp area in a few. You can wait in front for him if you’d like!" 

"Uh, yeah I’ll wait I guess. Thanks again.” The brunette, with his Louis Vuitton suitcase and his Ralph Lauren winter puff jacket, traipsed himself through the lobby. Back through the large gold lined glass doors, under the large chandelier in the entryway; and waited. This place was the Ritz, almost literally. 

Hey, if Steve’s parents weren’t going to be home for Christmas then the least Steve could do was charge the most expensive ski trip he could find to his father’s card. Make up for last Christmas too while he was at it. And his birthday! And so the brunette who dripped in brand names he didn’t care about, except to revel in the fact that it pissed his father off when he’d check his bank statements; flew all the way to Colorado, from Indiana. First class, booked the most expensive hotel his google search generated; ‘Maygrove Lodge’. 

Steve was born into a rich family that cared more about the money they made then him; he was spoiled, sure, but a brat by choice. Steve did have his own job though, paid for his own bills and food; but that job didn’t get his parent’s attention the way spending their money did. So he stood outside waiting for this Mr. Billy Hargrove to come around and drive him down to the cabins, hopefully help him with his bags too. It was a good ten minutes of shaky legs and winter winds, sure, it was a sunny day but still; thirty something degrees was still freezing. But finally the brunette saw the ski-cab driving around towards him. 

“You waiting on a ride to the cabins?” Steve heard the voice before he got a good look at the man driving the cab. It was deep, rough, Steve wasn’t expecting it. 

“Yeah." 

"Need help with those bags?”

“Yeah." 

Steve stood there, eyes plastered to the man trying to get a good look at his face; but he was wearing heavy sunglasses and a thick red plaid jacket. Sherpa lined, blue jeans, buckskin boots. It looked warmer then what Steve was wearing that’s for damn sure. He had nice hair though, short at the sides and long on top. Blonde, it matched the scruff on his face. Jesus, Steve came here thinking he was in for a week of rest but watching the blonde grin at him like that; he wasn’t interested in resting anymore. And the brunette watched as he packed Steve’s bags in the back of the ski-cab,

"Gettin’ in or what?" 

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, thanks." 

The blonde chortled a bit climbing into the cab. Steve slipped into the seat beside him, 

"Man of many words?” He smirked at the brunette starting up the machine. Steve bit his lip around a smile, when was the last time he was this awkward? God he couldn’t remember the last time he had a crush on a guy. Maybe his first semester of college, before he dropped out? 

The ride itself was fun, the cart could go pretty fast especially over the fresh fallen snow. Steve bounced around and laughed when they took the steep bends. The cabins were a few miles from the main lodge. They were private, cost a good extra chunk of money then the rooms available in the hotel. Money Steve was all too willing to spend. 

“Hey, sorry if Max was givin’ you a hard time at check in. She’s almost like a little sister so I give her some slack, but sometimes gets a little too involved in the guests personal lives. Doesn’t understand boundaries." 

"No it’s fine. I mean it is Christmas week, she wasn’t in the wrong. I’m just a weirdo that doesn’t spend it with family.” Steve laughed, quickly wishing he hadn’t just shared that information. “Thank you though, you were the guy in the back?” 

“Heh, you and me both, and yeah I was. But seriously, if she gives ya any more trouble about it, just let me know. I’ll fire her nosy ass.” He laughed, Steve liked his laugh, it was…hot. The brunette shamelessly turned to look at the man driving, he really wanted to see what his eyes looked like. Wanted to just reach over and take the sunnies off of him. But that would be even worse than what he did end up doing,

“You can do that? Don’t you just work here too?" 

And the blonde, Billy, turned his head as he slowed the cab down to a crawl; looked at the brunette with a small sideways smirk. 

"I own this place, pretty boy.”

“Seriously! Shit, I’m so sorry… Mr. Hargrove?" 

"Oh, god, Billy. It’s Billy, Mr. Hargrove is my father” the blonde grimaced. 

Steve couldn’t help but laugh because he always acts the same way when people call him 'Mr. Harrington’. 

“Wait, how old are you?” The brunette questioned, 

“Twenty two." 

"No way! You’re younger than me and own this whole place? How?" 

"Ain’t no secret, just good business. So how old are you?" 

”…Twenty three.“ 

"Really? Face like that thought you were still in high school.” The blonde pulled into a small cul-de-sac of log cabins. It was that hallmark movie kind of perfect looking. But Steve was currently more focused on whether Billy was flirting with him or just stating facts. 

Yeah, okay, Steve has a baby face, peach fuzz for days but like the way the blonde said it…or maybe Steve was just cold and horny? And the brunette must have been staring something awful because the blonde took off those sunglasses; finally. And his eyes were blue, perfectly blue, and his eyelashes were thick; so much so they caste shadows. God, he was tan too! Was it fake? How is someone so tan in the winter? Then he smiled at Steve, 

“We’re here." 

Steve jerked his gaze away, embarrassingly so—

"Wow. It’s beautiful here." 

"Thanks” The blonde huffed out a sigh “I need ta grab some firewood so I can’t help ya to your cabin. You all good?" 

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, no I’m good. Thank you for the ride Billy." 

"No problem pretty boy." 

Steve glanced at the blonde again with a faint smile before sliding out of the cab; fumbling his luggage out of the back. Probably making way too many unnecessary sounds, 

"Sure y'all good?" 

"Yup. Totally… completely…” he huffed, pulling his suitcases up in front of the ski-cab “good." 

Billy laughed again and nodded, hand tapping the steering wheel "alright. Call the front desk if you need anything." 

"Will do." 

"Hope you enjoy your stay." 

"Planning on it!” The brunette shouted over the motor as the blonde was backing out. He was such a dork, but he was cute. 

“Jesus! Why did I pack so much!” Steve whined as he dragged his suitcases up the cabin’s stairs. Of course cabin 235 had to be the one farthest from the pathway. But the brunette was actually surprised as he caught his breath and opened the door; it was decorated for the holidays. There was even a small tree hung with lights near the window. It was warm and cozy, looked more like someone’s home then a getaway spot. 

There were fur blankets sprawled across the couch, food and alcohol stocked. Seriously some first class digs. If this is what seven hundred dollars a night buys you then Steve was considering extended stay options. God, even the bathroom was stocked with brand named shit! He really started to wonder if the last guest just forgot to pack their belongings when he went to the bedroom. The closet was full, which yeah, that’s pretty odd. But Steve has always been a 'live out of the suitcase’ kind of traveler anyways. 

He scuffed his bags into the bedroom before exploring more of the cabin, it was a single level but had a small loft; the kind you have to climb a ladder to get to. There was a large flat screen that hung on the wall, a real wood burning fireplace sat under it. And a white fluffy rug in front of the fireplace. Steve really felt like he was in a Christmas movie, all he needed was some hot chocolate and… well, he wasn’t necessarily picky at the moment but that Billy guy would be pretty nice. 

Guy like him probably isn’t even gay though, probably has women flocking over him, and he’s fuckin’ rich. Not ’my parents are rich’, but like it’s actually his money! Basically owns the whole damn mountain! That’s so hot. The guy is a real go getter, knows what he wanted in life; unlike Steve. Well Steve knows he wants hot cocoa and that guy in his bed, but besides that, no future plans. 

So almost an hour later the brunette was perfectly stretched out over the leather, blankets donned couch. Tv on in the background playing some old Christmas movie he wasn’t paying attention to; hot chocolate in one hand, cell phone in the other. A real twenty first century king if I’ve ever seen one. He’s been flipping through Google, Twitter and Instagram for the last thirty minutes trying to find a Mr. Billy Hargrove; it’s like the guy doesn’t exist. Said for a few articles about the young entrepreneur. 

Blessed with some very noteworthy pictures of the guy. “Jesus.” Steve murmured zooming in on one of the photos. His eyes were seriously blue, and he has freckles that the brunette didn’t notice before. “Shit” he sighed out a laugh, he had to laugh at himself. He just flew four hours to a luxury ski lodge just to jerk off to some guy. Given, said guy was gorgeous, but come on… not that he wasn’t going to do it later. But it was only five pm, he should probably like, eat dinner at the very least before retiring to bed. 

The brunette hopped off the couch and huffed his way into the kitchen area, it was an open concept floor plan; and a modest size cabin, but still more effort than Steve wanted to give. 

“So pasta or… oh my god, no shit, is that caviar? They stock these rooms with caviar! Wonder if they have lobster too!” Steve fanned as he dug into the fridge. 

“Do I even like caviar?” He pondered as he opened up the can, he dipped his pinky finger into it like the gentleman he is. “Nope. Definitely do not like caviar. Good to know.” He shrugged it off putting it back. “Pasta it is." 

And as the brunette made way with his food, dancing to whatever commercial song was on in the living room; a news banner interrupt it. Loud beeping followed by that annoying audio prompt. Something about a winter storm advisory.

Steve paid no mind to it, hell he’d pay someone to trap him inside his little winter wonderland. Let it snow, he thought, which prompted him to sing as he finished with his food. Pooling it all into a large bowl that he knows he’ll never be able to finish, but god damn he’s gonna try. 

After more television, some wine he found in a cabinet and half a bowl of pasta later; the brunette was pretty satisfied with his first night. Five stars honestly. 

It was dark out now, the Christmas tree looked really nice through his slightly buzzed vision. The wine must have been more expensive than what he was use to, or he just drank more than he thought. He pulled himself from the loveseat and made his way to the bedroom. Slinked out of his clothes; the sheets were a deep blue, soft, probably a high thread count. It was so fuckin’ comfortable! God, forget skiing, Steve was staying in this bed for the next five days! 

Feather down comforter pulled up to his chin, he stretched out real good, felt real good; was about to feel even better too. As he slipped his hand under the blanket. As it slid down his body, as he turned his head pressing it down into his pillow. Jesus, even the pillows smell amazing. Like they sprayed them with cologne. Warm, musky, sweet; ”fuck…“ the brunette writhed under his own touch. Closed eyes picturing blue one staring back at him. "Mmhmm” Picturing thick fingers holding him, “shit…ah! God”, tan skin in the middle of fuckin’ December, warm against his. “Fuck.” Full red lips, with that scruff scraping against his thighs “Billy. Mmm-fuck. Billy." 

Did Steve feel guilty about getting off to a guy he just met, that probably had a girlfriend?…Not as much as he felt guilty for dirtying such nice sheets. But all emotions said for euphoria left him as that climax high set in. And then he wiped his hand off on the sheet, turned over and slept. Slept until the sun blinded him through closed eyes, and the brunette shoved his face into the pillow; that pillow that smelt like sex felt. And he hushed out a sleepy moan as he breathed it in. 

"Jesus. I need a boyfriend, or at least a damn hobby.” Messy hair fell into his face as he sat up, stretching arms over head. Desperately in need of a shower too. Didn’t even bother putting his boxers back on as he got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. The hot water helped his hangover, helped his erection too. 

“Fuck, never wanna leave this place.” The brunette feverishly groaned out. 

After he finished dressing he decided that even though it was apparently pushing one thirty pm, it was time for breakfast. Eggo’s seemed like the easiest solution for the brunette. And he settled back into his throne, news warning still at it with the winter storm advisory. 

“Twenty four inches huh? Good. Bury me here!” He threatened the television around a mouthful of waffles. 

Steve put his plate in the sink, leaned over it to look out the window that sat above it. It didn’t look like it was snowing yet, sky was grayish but not threateningly so. He should probably go get some skiing in, considering, but he didn’t really feel like it anymore. “Oh! It’s Billy!” Doe eyes all too excitedly widened, practically yelling; Steve leaned even more over the skin.

“Je-su-s” he moaned biting at his lip, the blonde was wielding an axe. Of course he actually cut the wood himself, he looked like the hottest lumberjack the brunette has ever seen. And considering it’s 2019 and lumberjacks are a dying breed, he is the hottest one Steve’s seen. He has a good pile going, the brunette considered whether he should bring him a drink or something. It would be the kind thing to do right? Totally not a come on, just neighborliness. 

But then the brunette didn’t have to decide, 'cause the blonde lumberjack, with his large wood pile was heading for his cabin. Okay, seriously, if he cut all that wood just for Steve, so he’d stay warm; Steve wasn’t responsible for what happened next. The brunette faltered, almost falling as he rushed to the front door. 

“Hey there!” He beamed as he opened it. 

“Holy shit!” The blonde cursed, dropping some of the logs in surprise. “Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?” Billy asked sharply as he put the rest of the kindle down. 

“Uh, this is my cabin. What are—”

“No, this is my cabin, first of all. Secondly, I meant what are you still doing here?” Billy closed in on the brunette, making Steve step back letting the blonde into the cabin. 

“Oh, yeah no, I know you like own them but this is the one I’m staying in.” Steve chortled. 

Billy leaned up against the counter looking at the other who was still lingering near the door. 

“No, pretty boy, I mean this is my home, my cabin, I live here." 

"Wait. Holy shit you’re serious?" 

"Deadly…” Steve brushed his hair back with a hand as he thoughtfully bit on his lip, decreasing the space between them slowly. 

“Sorry I didn’t know. Pretty sure this is the cabin she said though. I mean the key worked so." 

"Who? Max gave you the keys for this cabin?" 

"Yeah, redhead from the front desk." 

"Damn shithead. She’s so fired!” Billy fumed. 

“Hey! No, it’s no problem man. I’ll just get my stuff and get out of your hair." 

"Yeah, ain’t gonna happen…”

“Steve. Names Steve." 

"Ain’t gonna happen Stevie, I already shut the place down. There’s a blizzard on the way. Evacuated everyone this morning. Fuckin’ Max… goddamn it.” Billy rubbed his forehead thinking about what Max told him earlier before she left. 'Merry Christmas Billy. I put your present in your cabin!’ Holy shit she was a demon child. 

“Wait so like, you and me are the only people here?" 

"I’m speakin’ english ain’t I?” The blonde retorted, 

“Oh… uh, I guess I could just leave?" 

"Already told ya pretty boy, there’s a blizzard headin’ straight towards us. No way in hell i'mma let ya drive in it." 

"Okay. Yeah, you’re probably right. Is it okay if I stay then?" 

"Looks like there ain’t no choice, plus ya already made yourself comfortable.” Billy gestured to the opened wine bottle on the counter, smirking; Steve felt his face flush. 

“Shit, I can’t believe I just raided your house.” He grimaced in embarrassment, 

“You seriously couldn’t tell someone lived here?” Billy huffed out a breathy laugh, intrigued or entertained by the brunette’s sheer ignorance. 

“I mean, just thought it was part of the package.” That earned Steve a full, heavy laugh from the blonde. Billy pushed himself off from the counter and turned heel towards the bedroom. 

“Alright. I’m gonna change cause i’m frozen and then I guess I’ll get us a fire goin’.” The blonde decided. 

“Okay.” Steve agreed, not that he had much of a say, it was Billy house afterall. His house, his bedroom, his bed…bed that Steve just masturbated in, to Billy’s scent. “Shit” the brunette scrunched his face up quickly following the blonde. 

“Billy! Hey-uh…” And as Steve entered the doorway to the room, Billy was staring at his bed. Shit, he knew right. God he could probably smell it, Steve could smell it so Billy definitely smells it. Then the blonde growled, groaned, fuck, wait, was that good or bad? Steve wasn’t sure if the blonde even made the noise. But Billy turned his head to look at Steve, he probably looked like a kid caught red handed. But Billy just smirked, tongue between teeth, 

“A guys has needs right.” That’s what he decided to combat this situation with. That and then proceeded to take off his clothes. 

Oh fuck. Steve was pretty sure he just gasped. Shit, look away, look away, Jesus, he couldn’t. 

Billy was like a God, his skin was so tan, his shoulders were wide and built with muscle. His arms just as strong, fuck; even has those veins running up them. Steve loved that shit. You can see every muscle on his stomach move and bend and stretch as he tugged his layers off. 

“Mhmm” the brunette bit his lip, fuck, yeah that noise definitely just happened. Okay he seriously needs to leave. 

“So, since it is my bed pretty boy, I have the right ta know, what got ya off?” Steve was a deer in headlights for a moment. How did he just ask they so nonchalantly. Like he was asking about the fuckin’ weather! 

“Uh…” the brunette rubbed his head a bit, Billy glanced over to him with an arched brow. 

“Well? Come on ya gotta give me somethin’ Stevie. Was it a porn? Was it—" 

'Smell. It was the smell of the pillows.” Good God! Why did he just say that! Shit! You just blew it Steve, that was the creepiest thing you could have said. Why didn’t you just say yes to the porn! 

“My pillows?” The blonde questioned, walking up to the top of his bed. He reached over and grabbed one, smelt it, smirked up at Steve,

“Smells like me." 

Mayda! Mayday! We’re going down! Steve panicked, 

"Didn’t know it was your bed.” He murmured under his shaky breath. 

“Hey, Steve, it’s all good man. Didn’t know right?" 

"Yeah”

“Did it feel good?" 

"Yeah” shit! He responded without thinking! The blonde snickered and threw the pillow down onto the bed; grabbed a shirt from his closet. Thank god he didn’t have to change out of his jeans! 

“How’s dinner sound? Maybe finish that bottle you started?" 

"Fuck, yes please.” Steve sighed almost too relieved. 

“Mmm. Might wanna keep that dirty talk to a minimum pretty boy, considering.” Billy teased, passing the brunette in the doorway. 

“Sorry.” Steve mumbled as he followed the blonde out to the living room. Billy was already making fast with getting the fire going. On his hands and knees, the brunette stood a little behind him. Tilted his head and just stared,

“Hey!” Billy snapped, like he could feel Steve watching him, “why don’t you make yourself useful and pour me a drink." 

"Yeah! yeah… sorry.” The brunette stepped to it, god he was so embarrassing! If he could only have put this much effort into school he’d probably be valedictorian. 

“Fires goin’” the blonde stated, walking up behind Steve. 

“Cool. Here” the brunette handed him his glass,

“Thanks.”

“Don’t look at his mouth, don’t look at his fuckin mouth Harrington!” Steve sang a mantra in his head while sipping his own glass. Literally looking everywhere but Billy. 

“So, what sounds good fer dinner? It’s Christmas eve after all. Got some lobsters in the freezer " 

"I knew it!” The brunette shouted, Billy leaned back a little, eyes curious; waiting for the punchline. 

“Sorry. Just, last night I said I bet this place even has lobster cause the caviar." 

"You ate my caviar too?”

“Fuck no! That stuff is gross!” Billy grinned amused, 

“Yeah I know, that’s why it’s still in there. Was a gift from someone, forgot who." 

"Some gift”, 

“Tell me about it.” They laughed a bit, then they were kind of just standing there. 

“So, uh, how did you really get into the hotel business?” Steve tried, the blonde smirked put his glass down on the counter and paced over to his fridge. 

“It’s not much of a story really, not like what they write online." 

"Don’t really read much anyways”,

“I uh, I ran away when I was younger. Originally from California, came here with a one way bus ticket. Only ticket I could afford, like it was fate or whatever; if ya believe in that kind of shit.” The blonde’s voice turned warmer as he continued his story. Now filling up a large pot with water, 

“I somehow ended up here, on this mountain. It was just a little rickety ski shack back then, the old man that ran it took me in. Worked for him and eventually took over the place. Kind of built it  from the ground up." 

"Wow…that’s, you’re incredible." 

"Heh. Yeah? Thanks Stevie. Hey grab those for me.” The blonde pointed his head over to the lobsters, Steve scrunched his nose, handed them over to Billy like a kid. Holding them out as far away from himself as possible. 

The blonde shook his head as he grabbed them, 

“They’re dead you know, won’t bite.” He teased. 

“Still freaky seeing them with their eyes and everything… mind if I just wait in the living room?”

“Nope, make yourself at home. Gonna take a while to cook anyways." 

"Okay.” Steve grabbed his glass, the bottle of wine and sauntered himself into the living room. The fire already warmed the whole place up, it smelt so nice, he wished he had a real fireplace back at home too. He sat down on the loveseat admiring the flames, barely noticed the blonde joining him. 

“So what’s your story? I told ya mine, fair is fair.”

“Oh, mine ain’t much of a story actually. Just was blessed with some no show parents. They’re always bailing on me so decided to treat myself instead of mope this year." 

"No girlfriend or—”

“Nope. Single like a pringle…you?" 

"Nah, no family, no girl or boyfriend. Storm or not, I was gonna spend Christmas alone too." 

"Well, glad I get to keep you some company then. We’re kind of in the same boat huh?" 

"Sounds like it." 

Billy smirked at the brunette, who was still caught on the 'no boyfriend’ thing.

Blatantly asking someone if they’re gay is rude right? Something he shouldn’t do. He smiled back to the blonde and decided to down his wine. Getting drunk didn’t really seem like a good idea but it definitely wasn’t the worst idea to Steve. He poured himself another glass and offered the bottle to Billy, who happily topped himself off. It was quiet for a while, said for the fire crackling and the wind outside picking up. It wasn’t really that late but it was already getting dark; probably from the storm. It was snowing like a shaker globe now.

"Should probably check the food.” The blonde stood up and made his way into the kitchen. Steve just watched, he honestly just felt so relaxed that he didn’t even feel like eating anymore. Between the warm fire and the wine, the smell that was radiating off of Billy; he was satiated without the food. 

“Is it done?” The brunette called softly,

“Yeah, just about. I’ll get the plates, we can eat up here on the counter if you want." 

"Whatever’s easier”

“Wanna grab my glass for me?”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve leaned over to pick up the blonde’s glass he put down, fuzzy Steve should definitely not be carrying three glass items at once but he thankfully made it into the kitchen; all of ten steps away, in one piece. 

“Smells good!" 

"Let’s hope it tastes good too.” Billy chortled, Steve took a seat on the bar stool as the blonde set out plates on the counter. 

“So how’s it?” Billy asked sitting beside the brunette now. 

“It’s good, better than a restaurant." 

"That good huh?" 

Steve nodded as he sucked butter off his fingers, it was the blonde that was staring now. The brunette didn’t notice as Billy licked his lips; quickly darting his head down to look at his plate. Lobster definitely wasn’t the sexiest food to eat, but somehow Steve was actually doing a pretty good job at it. Mostly due to the fact that he apparently didn’t believe in utensils. Just cracked the shell and slurped the meat from it. 

Billy readjusted himself a few times on the stool, trying to ignore said noises and eat his damn food. 

"Sounds like you’re havin’ a good time pretty boy.” The blonde attempted but after that last noise Steve just made, Billy couldn’t help himself. 

The brunette swallowed and sighed out a nervous laugh,

“Sorry." 

"No need ta apologize, glad you, really enjoyed it” he grinned. “Alright. I’m gonna go take a shower. You mind doin’ the dishes?" 

"No problem” Steve smiled, stood up and collected their plates. Billy headed back into his bedroom, closed the door behind him.  

“F-u-ck” the blonde groaned under his breath, pawing at the front of his jeans; he’s been fending off an erection for the past ten minutes. “Fuckin’ hell Max, what’s wrong with you?” Billy murmured as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. 

“Thanks shithead. Merry Christmas” He texted her and threw his phone to the bed. Bit his lip for a second before rounding to the side Steve had— 

“Mm goddamn.” He growled as he smelt the brunette dried spunk. Okay, in the blonde’s defense, it was his bed. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. Also he couldn’t remember the last time he had a good fuck; runnin’ a luxury lodge was his first priority. Steve was his type too. Max knew from the minute he walked into the place, she knows Billy too well. They really are like siblings, she was the original owner’s granddaughter; so they’ve known each other now for six years. But this is the first time she’s tried a stunt like this. First time that Billy isn’t going to give her hell for. 

The blonde huffed out a tattered sigh, honestly tempted to lick the sheet; but he wasn’t that desperate. He’ll wait for the real thing. It was pretty obvious the brunette was into him, not unless Billy was just as narcissistic as people tell him he is. But, he was pretty sure Steve has been dropping hints since yesterday. Either way the blonde grabbed a change of clothes, opened his bedroom door again and made his way into the bathroom. Steve looked like he was just about finished at the sink. But Billy didn’t wait to linger. His jeans were too tight now, he started the shower up. striped off his shirt, shimmied out of his jeans, stroked himself a bit before getting in. 

He groaned low under the water, panting as he worked himself. Thought about Stevie’s pretty mouth, how he sucked his fingers, how he’d look sucking on him. “huhh” he sneered, bit his lip trying to muffle himself, “mmm” he moaned. Stood under the hot water for a little while after before getting out. Somehow he felt even hungrier after the shower, hungry for the real thing now. Billy found the brunette sprawled out on the couch when he exited the bathroom. 

“Comfy?" 

"Mhmm.” Steve contentedly hummed,

“Room for two?" 

"Mmhm” The brunette shifted a bit making room and Billy rejoined him. 

“You smell good” Steve tittered, 

“How much wine have you had?”

“Finished the bottle when you were in the shower and then I found your whiskey” he smiled. 

"Did ya now, don’t believe in sharing?" 

"Want some?” The brunette countered,

“Thought you finished it?" 

"Got some left on my tongue." 

…That made Billy groan, deep in his throat,

"Don’t think that’s a good idea pretty boy." 

Steve sat up a bit, closer to the blonde, 

"Why’s that?" 

"Don’t think I could stop with just your tongue." 

"Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

“You serious 'bout this?” Billy asked firmly but his voice was heavy with want, when did their faces get so close? The blonde could smell the liquor that beggin’ mouth was dripping with. 

“Deadly.” Steve smirked mimicking the blonde. 

“God. You’re a real brat ain’t ya?" 

"Spoiled brat.” Steve corrected. 

Billy snarled diving into a kiss, mouth hot against the brunette’s. Tongue laved whatever remnants of alcohol were left in the other’s mouth. Steve sucked on the blonde’s lip as he caught his breath quickly, crashing back in; pushing Steve down onto his back. Drunk on lust, Billy tongue fucked the brunette till he was a moaning mess. 

Steve’s hands tightly gripping to the blonde’s shoulders. Panting and writhing under Billy, rutting into the knee that was shoved between his legs. Billy’s growls and his warm hand under his chin sent shivers through Steve. But when the blonde pulled back to look at the mess that was Steve Harrington; when the blonde shoved his thumb into Steve’s mouth, when he tossed his head back and groaned as Steve suck it, that’s when the brunette whimpered. 

“Fuckin’ hell Stevie, where you been all my life.” The blonde crooned in the brunette’s ear, earning another whimper from Steve.

“Billy,” he dug his fingers deeper, tugging at the blonde’s shirt. 

“We got all night baby.” Billy lulled him, kissing his way down the brunette’s jaw; down his neck lapping at his collarbone. 

“Want you now, wanna feel you.” The brunette whined,

Billy moaned “such a brat. I’m gonna take care of you, promise." 

Steve melted under those words, under the blonde’s hot breath, under his lips, fingers like feathers touching his skin. Billy worked him slow, they weren’t goin’ nowhere in this weather; no one was coming here. To the blonde they were basically the only people left in the world. He was going to savor it, every whimper, every moan, every cry. 

”Billy" Steve gasped, tugging at the blonde’s hair as he kissed and licked his way down the brunette’s body,

“Right here, ain’t goin anywhere." 

If Billy’s mouth wasn’t exactly what Steve wanted than his words definitely were. It’s like he knows, knows that those words are what he needs to hear. That he’s terrified of how much he’s in love with this moment, terrified that it’s going to end and he’ll be alone again. 

But Billy’s fingers clung onto Steve, like he was afraid of Steve leaving too. And he nuzzled into the brunette’s thighs like a thank you. And when his kiss swollen lips mouthed at Steve’s clothed dick the brunette actually thanked him. Breath shaky and barely there. But Billy just smirked up to those doey eyes. Ripped the brunette pants down to his knees, pulled them off completely. Settled back down, grazing Steve’s thighs with his stubble. The brunette shuttered, writhed with the sensation, practically sobbed when the blonde finally took him into his mouth. 

Steve squeezed Billy’s hand, the hand that had fingers clinging hard to the brunette’s side. The blonde sucked, and licked, and bobbed his head until Steve was close to tears. Begging for more, to let him come, to let him feel Billy too. Billy moaned, eyes closed in complete bliss hearing how bad Steve wanted him. He swallowed the brunette’s spunk when he finally let him cum. Steve all to eagerly dragged him up for another jolting kiss, he groaned into Billy’s mouth as he lapped at the blonde’s tongue. Tasting himself, Billy growled, rutting his throbbing cock down onto the brunette. 

"Fuck Stevie. So fuckin’ good baby. Can’t wait to see you riding this cock. Gonna look so good pretty boy." 

"Billy! Fuck wanna ride you so bad." 

"Get on the floor, right in front of the fire. Gotta go grab lube to grease you up." 

So Steve did, he stretched himself over the fluffy white rug that sat in front of the fireplace. Billy came back as quickly as he left and dropped to his knees. 

"God, you look like a fuckin’ king like that babe.” He crooned taking his shirt off, Steve reached his arms out and Billy met them with a bare chest. The brunette sat up, his mouth kissing and biting the suntanned skin. Billy made the best sounds as Steve bruised love bites all over him. 

“Lay down, gotta open you up.” Billy pressed a slicked thumb against the brunette’s pink hole, rimmed around it, slicking it up real good. Steve left whimpering, sobbing Billy’s name on shaking breaths. 

“Gotta relax pretty boy.” Billy leaned up to kiss him, licked over his lips as he pressed a finger into him. 

“Mmm” Steve moaned against the blonde lips. “More." 

And Billy obliged, slicking a second finger in as he slowly fucked the brunette, scissoring him open. "How you doin’ Stevie?" 

"Fuckin’ perfect” Steve panted. 

Billy grinned, tongue to teeth, “think you can handle another?" 

"Do it.” Steve pushed his hips down giving the blonde a better angle as Billy pressed a third finger in. The brunette gasped, mouth agape,

“Fuck." 

"Okay?”

“Yeah, just don’t move.”

“All you pretty boy”, Billy rubbed his other hand over the brunette’s thigh, Steve took a steep breath before he started to slowly move on Billy’s fingers. 

“God, feels so good Billy” Steve huffed,

“You’re sucking me right in babe.” The blonde licked his lips with hunger. 

Steve choked as Billy started to move again, faster, rougher. 

“Ah fuck Billy! Oh fuck, fuck!" 

"Gonna make you cum with just my fingers baby so when I get my dick in ya your gonna be putty. Gonna be such a beautiful mess for me." 

"Fuck Billy, right there, yes! Just like that. Don’t stop. Fuck. Don’t stop!” And Billy kept pace until Steve was shooting out white ropes all over his pretty stomach. And the blonde moaned, slipped his fingers out of the brunette’s stretched bright red hole and licked his spunk off his belly. Finally getting a taste, fuckin’ hell, he was like water in a desert. 

Steve’s eyes were threatening tears “Billy" 

"Right here Stevie.” The blonde leaned up to look at the doey eyed brunette, he had the cutest fuckin’ smile. Completely blissed out. Billy was so hard in his jeans, needed it; been needing a guy like Steve for a long time.

Steve’s head jerked back, eyes closed tight, hands clinging to the carpet under him as Billy rammed his slicked up cock into him. The blonde panted heavy breaths as Steve was left whimpering. Bill, too impatient to go slow, he was completely taken over by sheer need.

“Oh fuck baby, feels so good inside you. Still so tight" 

"God. Billy, harder, wanna feel you everywhere." 

"Fuck” Billy growled gripping harder onto the brunette’s hips, thrusting deep, so deep into him. Skin against skin, clingy hands searching for something to grab onto, cries and growls and moans,tongue to lips; all of it was way better than any Christmas music they could have been playing. 

“Swear you were made for this cock pretty boy, fits so perfectly.” The blonde moaned “gonna fill you up so good baby." 

”Please. Feels so good Billy.“ Steve cried through hitched breaths, 

"Jesus, you’re so fuckin sweet.” Billy arched down bringing Steve into a kiss, a soft, almost painful kiss. The kind that makes your toes curl and your heart burst. Then he was pulling him up, like the brunette was nothing more than a pillow. In one swift move the blonde sat back on his knees with Steve sitting on him. The brunette with arms around Billy neck for stability and Billy strong arms like steel straps caging him in. 

“God! Fuck, I can feel you in my fuckin’ throat like this.” Steve panted as he started to grind his ass down deeper into the blonde; eliciting a feral growl from Billy. Sharp canines buried into Steve’s pale neck, bruising him up like putting a collar on him. He belonged to Billy now, even if it was just for the night. 

“Come on baby, ride it like ya wanna break me” he groaned, hands fastened tight pushing and pulling Steve until the brunette caught the rhythm. “That’s it Stevie, fuck yourself on this cock. God, you feel so good, oh fuck! Hmm, yeah just like that. ah fuck baby.” Billy crooned and groaned urging the brunette on. Steve gripped to the blonde’s shoulders for leverage, pumping himself up and down; his leaking dick slapping against him with the violent motion. 

“Billy! Fuck, fuck, oh God!” Steve whined as he fucked himself on the blonde, “Kiss me.” He demanded. And Billy did, wouldn’t dream of denying such a pretty mouth. He kissed him hard, the blonde snaked his had to the brunette nape keeping him there. Their mouths linked together, sharing one breath, Billy ate up every moan that escaped Steve. And the brunette came like that, flushed against the blonde, panting with his fingers tightly coiled in the short blonde curls. Billy didn’t last much longer after that with Steve slowly, deeply grinding on him, riding out his organism. The blonde stuttering his hips, filling the brunette with his heat. Hitched breaths were panted as their lips crashed together again, fighting for dominance. 

“That was amazing” Steve laughed out something breathy, still reeling.

“Yeah, you really are Stevie.” Billy looked up at the brunette with a wide grin in appreciation. Steve matched his grin with a fervent smile; pushed the blonde down to the carpet, they wrestled childishly for a moment. Kisses were stolen quickly until the both laid quiet, Steve curled right beside Billy, his leg over the blonde’s and his hand drawing circles in his chest. And they cuddled, warm with the fire, silently enjoying each other. 

“I do.” Steve whispered head nuzzling under the blondes chin. 

“Do what?” Billy matched his tone. 

“Earlier, when you were talking about fate, you said ‘if you believe in that sort of thing’. And I do believe in it.” He smiled, turning his head up to look at the blonde. 

“You sayin’ this was fate, us meeting baby?" 

That dopey smirk crawled back onto Steve’s face, 

"Maybe. Is that stupid?" 

"Jesus, Stevie, you really are sweet, gonna give me a cavity." 

"Shut up.” The brunette giggled out shoving the blonde teasingly. “I’m serious though Billy." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yes." 

"How serious?" 

"Deadly”, 

“Good, cause I’m pretty sure its gonna be just you and meet for the next few days up here. How’s that sound?" 

"Like a dream. Like the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten." 

Billy chuckled "pretty sure you are the best present I’ve ever gotten pretty boy." 

Steve wiggled his way up to kiss the blonde, nosed his face against Billy’s scruff. 

"Hey." 

"Hi.” The blonde chortled,

“Can I love you?" 

And Billy propped himself to his elbows, brows furrowed and eyes fixed on the brunette,

"You askin’ for permission or askin’ a question?" 

"Permission. I mean just, just until they dig us outta here; till I have to leave. Can we pretend we’re in love." 

"Don’t know if that’s a good idea." 

"Why?”

“Don’t know if I can stop at just pretending.”

“Kiss me.” And the blonde did, couldn’t deny such a pretty mouth, pretty eyes; pretty face. 

“I love you, Billy” he hushed,

“…love you too Stevie." 

[mageicalwishes]

Read on AO3: here

Summary: A softer re-imagining of the morning after the forest fire. "Pulling back, I take him all in - His hair fanned out against the pillow, and a raw, dazed expression gracing his face (All traces of his usual smugness, thankfully, removed). Before he quickly snaps back into himself - Grimacing up at me, and turning his face to hide it in the pillow. The tips of his ears colouring slightly, as he does so, clearly embarrassed (I wonder if he can blush properly. He hasn’t yet, I don’t think, but maybe I just need to try harder. It would definitely be worth the effort)."

Tags: Fluff, Dramatic Tyrannus Basilton “Baz” Pitch, Morning Kisses, Morning Cuddles

Words: 2,476

Simon

Baz has barely a second to properly open his eyes, before I jump him again - Pressing him down into the mattress, and littering his face in kisses (I’ve been awake for at least an hour just waiting for him to wake up, and I’m not known to be the most patient person, so I don't want to waste a second). 

Pushing his palms against my chest, he rolls me away onto my back besides him, with a groan. 

“Snow. You need to brush your teeth,” he complains. 

But I’m so distracted by the lushness of his voice, still deepened with sleep, that I miss most of what he’s trying to say (It isn’t my fault, though. He sounds fit. Super fucking fit). I do, however, catch that he’s gone back to calling me Snow, which is annoying. I wish he’d just call me Simon.  He did last night. 

“What?” I ask, dumbly. 

“You need to brush your teeth.” 

“Nu uh,” I argue, propping myself up on my elbows and smiling down at him. “You’re not the Queen of bloody England, Baz. You can handle morning breath.” 

“I absolutely can not.” 

I roll my eyes. Dramatic bastard. 

“Just spell them then, fusspot.” 

“God, please don’t tell me that you just spell your teeth,” he moans. “I remember your ‘Clean as a Whistle’ showering phase in Fourth year, you know? I won’t tolerate a repeat of that just because we snogged.” 

“Just because we’re snogging,” I correct. “Present tense.”

He arches an elegant brow up at me, but he doesn’t argue - Which is good. We’re definitely still snogging. Whether he wants to admit it, or not. 

“I don’t spell my teeth, you dick!” 

“Fine. Then go and brush them.” 

Pouting, I grab a hold of his wrist and squeeze. His skin cool against mine - Although, definitely warmer than it was last night (I must’ve warmed him up with all the cuddling - He slept in my arms last night. It was proper ridiculous). 

“No, Baz,” I whine, shifting and straddling his lap.“I wanna’ stay here with you. So just … spell them, or suck it up.” 

Scoffing, he reaches over and grabs his wand from his bedside table - Apparently unwilling to argue it any further. 

“Fine, you mule. Smile.” 

Pleased, I obey - Flashing him my widest photograph smile, as he rests his wand against my front teeth (There’s a slight gap between them, but he doesn’t say anything about it). 

“Minty Fresh.” 

“There we go,” I say, smiling down at him properly now. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“Well ... you say that, but it clearly goes beyond your level of capability. So, I’d argue that it’s hard enough.” 

While his words are as sharp as ever, I can tell that he doesn’t really mean them. There’s no malice in his voice, just light amusement. It’s teasing, not taunting. And I like it. I like this. A softer Baz. A sweeter Baz. 

“Whatever,” I groan, leaning down towards him, so that our faces are mere centimetres apart. “Can I kiss you now?” 

“If you must,” he breezes, nonchalantly (Although his voice wobbles slightly - Giving him away. He wants this just as much as me, I know).

And so I do, reaching down and pressing our lips together without further discussion. Baz falling soft and pliant, as he sighs contentedly. My chest constricting at the feel of him - All safe, and warm, and happy, with me. 

And it’s all so much slower this time - Languid and unhurried where it was clashing and desperate (Last night was a bit of a fever dream) - but it’s no less good. In fact, it’s better like this. In the still daylight of morning, it all feels far more real. Far less fragile. And it’s driving me barmy - My heart swelling and racing, eagerly, with every move against him. 

Shit. Maybe I am Gay? I probably wouldn’t be enjoying this as much as I am, if I wasn’t, right? I mean, I know some straight people, like, ‘experiment’ with stuff like this, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what I’m doing. Last night I kissed him ‘cause I wanted to, not for … science, or some shit. I just … wanted it. I still want it. So that must make me … Something? 

But as I start to question myself - What all of … this makes me - My throat fills with that typical stressed tightness, and I decide to stop thinking about it (For now, anyway). There’s much better things to focus on, at the moment. Like Baz. And breakfast (I hope we’re having breakfast. Sometimes he skips it at Watford, but that’s probably ‘cause of the fang thing. Hopefully he won’t today). 

Pulling back, I take him all in - His hair fanned out against the pillow, and a raw, dazed expression gracing his face (All traces of his usual smugness, thankfully, removed). Before he quickly snaps back into himself - Grimacing up at me, and turning his face to hide it in the pillow. The tips of his ears colouring slightly, as he does so, clearly embarrassed (I wonder if he can blush properly. He hasn’t yet, I don’t think, but maybe I just need to try harder. It would definitely be worth the effort). 

“Take a picture, Snow. It’ll last longer,” he drones, his voice filled with, what I now suspect, is faux confidence. 

And, even though he clearly doesn’t mean it, I really think that I might. He’s so beautiful. 

————————————————————————————

We’ve stopped kissing now; opting, instead, to lie together, quietly. Snuggled up together under the warmth of his duvet. 

We’re positioned similarly to last night - Bodies pressed firmly together, and an arm slung over his waist - Except this time, we’re facing one another. The tip of his slightly skewiff nose resting against mine, as we look at each other. Well … I’m looking at him - At his stormy grey eyes, and his slightly cut bottom lip (It must be from the fangs. It’s so fucking wicked that he has fangs). But he’s looking … somewhere behind me. His brow furrowed, and a gnarled little scowl spread across his lips (I would try to kiss it away, if I thought that it would work, but I doubt it. He seems too … stressed, for all of that). 

Instead, I splay my hand out against his stomach. Tracing, what I hope are, comforting circles against the soft skin there. And it all feels a little bit strange; since I haven’t done anything like this before (Agatha wasn’t big on physical affection), but he isn’t complaining, so I think he’s happy enough. Baz is definitely the kind of guy to scold a - Lover? Boyfriend? Enemy roommate with benefits? Whatever - for doing something wrong. He’s not one to accept mediocrity (Which sort of makes me wonder what I’m even doing here at all, to be honest), so his silence must be a good sign. 

“Baz,” I whisper. “Are you alright? You seem all … far away.” 

“I’m alright,” he sighs, scrunching his eyes shut (Even though he definitely doesn't seem it). “I’m just thinking.” 

“‘Bout what?” 

“You.” 

Oh. Crowley. He shouldn’t be allowed to say things like that. 

“What about me?” 

“About how … I’m not entirely sure that all of this, isn’t just the effect of some kind of ‘Sweet Dreams’ spell,” he says, jaw tight, and voice strained. “I hope you know that, if I wake up and I’m back at Watford, I won’t hesitate to throttle you.”

Helplessly, I beam over at him (Even though that’s probably a more-than-a-little-bit of a fucked response to being threatened). 

“I know. But this ‘ain't a dream. I promise. See?” I laugh, pinching at his waist, forcefully. Pulling a girlish little yelp from his lips (Much to my delight). “If this were a dream, that would’ve woken you up.” 

“Brute,” he grumbles, swatting at my wrist. “There were less aggressive ways you could’ve proved your point.” 

I shrug. “Probably. I couldn’t think of any, though. And I didn’t do it that hard, you’re just being sensitive.” 

“Whatever you say, Snow.” 

“Yeah,” I smile. “But, uh …. Why would it be a dream, anyway? This would be a bit of a weird dream, no?” 

“Trust me, I’ve had weirder.”

“Starring me?” I ask, curious (And perhaps a little puffed up). 

“Starring you,” he confirms, eyes searching my face desperately. 

Jesus Christ. 

The absolute earnestness of his confession takes me by surprise; knocking the breath right out of my lungs. Since he definitely isn’t taking the piss (He looks much too frightened to be joking). 

“Wicked,” I breathe. And I really am trying my best to be reassuring, but my apparent go-to tactic of calling things he’s insecure about ‘wicked’, probably isn’t doing much in terms of restoring his self-esteem. “I mean … not that. No, I mean that is wicked, but just … I dream about you too.” 

“Yes, Snow, I know,” he sighs. “I’ve been witness to plenty of your nightmare sessions.” 

“No,” I groan. “I mean … sometimes, yeah. But you’re in my nice dreams, too, sometimes. More so, recently.” 

He scrunches up his face, apparently unsure of what to say (And I never thought that I’d live to see the day where I finally succeeded in leaving him speechless, but here we are). 

“Baz, um … how long have you actually … wanted this?”

“Why?” he drawls, hands scrunching up into tensed fists, against my chest.

“I’m just curious. It doesn’t, like, matter or anything? I just wanted to know.” 

Silently, he draws a hand up and starts smoothing the lines of my upper-arm, anxiously (I think he might have a bit of a ‘thing’ for my arms, to be honest. He kept on squeezing them last night, like he couldn’t get enough. And, I suppose that, with all the sword-wielding I’ve done over the past few years, they’re pretty alright. If he didn’t have his vampire super-strength bullshit, I reckon that I could have him in an arm wrestling match). 

“A long time,” he mumbles. “I … figured it out for sure, in Fifth year. But it started before then. Long before then.”

“How much longer?”  

“Basically the day we met.” 

“Oh,” I gasp. 

And I know that I should probably think of something better to say, considering that he’s just fessed up to having had a crush on me for the better part of a decade, but I’m feeling a little ... overwhelmed, to say the least. 

“Yes. ‘Oh’,” he spits, all bitter and sulky. 

And while I do understand his frustration with my … underwhelming reply, I’m really not sure what else he was expecting. We both know that I’m no good with words, and it’s not like he spent all his time at Watford writing me love letters (Pretty much the opposite, actually). 

“Don’t be like that,” I groan, reaching out and brushing a stray wave of hair away from his face. “I only realised yesterday, but … I think that it’s been longer than that for me, too. Penny may have had a point about the football matches, you know.” 

“The football matches?” 

“Yeah, um … you know how I used to go to all of your games?”

“Of course. Simon Snow: my greatest enemy and number one footie supporter. Bit of a contradiction.” 

“Yeah, well … Penny said that she thought it was weird. Not in like a … homophobic way, or something-” He snickers then, put I press on, regardless. “I’m not even … you know. But she said that I should think about why I really wanted to go to them so badly, considering that there was pretty much no chance of you plotting while you were on the pitch-”

“Which I tried to tell you, several times,” he interrupts (Apparently incapable of stopping himself from butting in, for even a minute). 

“- Yes, which you tried to tell me ... Anyway, back to what I was saying! I never really listened to her when she said it - I just got all stroppy with her ‘cause she was always complaining about me being obsessed - But … I think maybe I should’ve. ‘Cause, I think she may have had a point. I’m not so sure that it really was about the plotting. I mean, I think even I knew, deep down, that you couldn’t have been doing that. And … I always kind of, secretly, wanted you to do the thing where you lifted up your shirt to wipe your face. I never really thought about it at the time, ‘cause it stressed me out a little bit. But it definitely used to confuse me. I … just tried put it down to jealousy, and all that, at the time, but I’m pretty sure that I was wrong, given … recent events. I think I probably just thought you were a bit fit, to be honest.”

The last few words come out horribly stumbled and rushed, and I’m definitely blushing like an idiot, by the time I’ve finished. But then he’s grinning up at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling up cutely (And it’s still a weird to think of him like that, since he could probably drain me dry in half a second, but it’s definitely fitting when he’s like this. All joyful and barbless), and my humiliation is suddenly all worth it. 

“Is that so?” he purrs. 

“Yep. Definitely.”

And then he’s muttering something in Italian (Mera-viggy-soemthing-or-other), and pulling me back down towards him by the back of my neck. Shutting me up in the absolute best way possible - Pressing his lips against mine greedily. And it’s all a little apprehensive - Breaths stuttering, and a slight tremble running up his spine - But what he lacks in confidence, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm (He’s always been a quick study, but I can finally appreciate his, oftentimes annoying, meticulous nature, for myself). And soon enough I’m just fucking melting into his touch - So hot and insistent - But I still can’t stop the words from bubbling up inside me:

“Baz,” I sing, sitting back and cupping his face in my hands. “You know that this isn’t fair at all, right?” 

“What?” he startles, a worried twist overtaking his brow. The concern on his face so genuine, that I almost feel guilty for what I’m doing … Almost (He definitely still deserves it for being so bloody prissy all the time). 

“You didn’t spell your teeth. It’s well harsh making me all Aero-y, if you’re not willing to do the same yourself. Both disgusting and grossly unfair,” I tease, doing my best to mimic his signature ‘I’m Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch and I think I’m better than everybody else’ voice. 

Glaring up at me, he grabs at his wand and fires out another quick “Minty Fresh”, before reaching out and grabbing at my curls, giving them a not-so-gentle tug. 

“Happy now, ‘fusspot’?”

“Oh yeah,” I glow. “More than.”

[hybridfanfiction]

Owner Training - 3

Word Count: 2,236

Life with Yoongi was turning you into a master of compromise, admittedly in his favor. He would request all windows and doors were to remain open, you would insist on the bathroom door being closed when you were in there. He insisted on a diet that consisted of meat, cheese, and half & half ( “Milk is basically white water and cream is too thick. It has to be half and half.”). You convinced him to have a salad at least once a week. He demanded fifteen hours of uninterrupted silence during the day for his sleep, you talked him down to ten at night and a five hour nap while you were at work. Basically, you were a pro negotiator now.

This is why it wasn’t a surprise to you that you’d been on the phone with a sick Yoongi for the past five minutes explaining that no, you weren’t going to bring home sashimi for dinner because you highly doubted the story he told about hybrids healing faster if they eat raw meat. You were more than happy to bring home some chicken soup, however. And if he willingly took some vitamin C tablets, you’d even buy some vanilla ice cream to soothe his throat. The promise of the frozen treat seemed to do the trick as he stopped coming up with hybrid health facts that you were certain he was pulling out of his ass and hung up, finally letting you get back to work uninterrupted. 

You sigh wearily as you turn back to your computer, but you can’t help the little fond smile that grows as you think about him. Yoongi was a brat, it was true, but he was never really mean or a problem. You were sure he just got a little thrill every time he was able to trick you into doing what he wanted, thinking himself the most clever of cats. Honestly, you weren’t as dumb as he probably thought you were. Some of his victories came from your ignorance, as you were still learning. You wouldn’t deny that. However, you often let him get away with things just to see his little smirk of victory and obvious happiness. 

Humming, you get back to work. You wanted to try to get some of the basic office work out of the way so you wouldn’t end up behind if you needed to take some time off to take care of Yoongi. 

“Was that your hybrid again?” Your co-worker next to you grinned as she asked, very used to listening to your daily battles with Yoongi. 

“Yeah. He’s had a cold for a couple days and he’s even more demanding than usual. It’s cute, but it would make my life easier if he would stop refusing to go to the vet. I’m sure they have meds that would end it faster.” 

“Oh, he’s one of those. My girl was like that at first too, absolutely refused the vet. We got her on a rewards system now though. Every time she does a task successfully, like going to the vet without whining or learning a new trick, she gets a star on the board. Once she reaches a certain amount, she gets a treat. Like a trip to the park or a new toy. You should try something like that with yours.” 

Something about the way she said it struck you as not only childish but slightly demeaning. Tricks? They weren’t actual dogs. You were certain if you tried to teach Yoongi an actual trick he’d flip you off and lock you out of your own bedroom. 

“I don’t know. Yoongi was a stray, so he’s a little more sensitive than most,” you mutter, trying to keep your opinion to yourself. Last thing you needed was a co-worker that hated you because you called them a hybridist. 

“Well, at the very least, you should have him trained a little more. My Lola wouldn’t dream of bothering me at work unless it was an emergency. Something like that would mean she’d have to move her mat out of my bedroom for the night and into the living room.” 

“A mat? She doesn’t sleep with you?” 

“Goodness, no. Hybrids aren’t allowed on the furniture, dear. You have to establish dominance, and letting them onto the couch or your bed makes them think they own the house. This is your first one, isn’t it?” 

You nod silently and keep your thoughts to yourself. You felt really bad for this Lola. You know Yoongi would have ran away from this woman in a day. He may be a brat, but he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. 

“Well, just remember that you’re the owner and they’re the pet. I’ll email you a few links to some great sites that can help.” 

Thankfully, she goes back to work after that. To think, you used to like this woman. She was a great paralegal, but apparently a shit person. 

You sigh and glance around your area, wondering what the chances were of Yoongi letting you take a picture of him. You could frame it and liven your desk up a little more. You grin at the thought of the battle you’d have to go through just to get one decent photo. He would put up a fight for sure, but all you’d have to do is compliment and praise him enough for him to think he’d be doing you a favor. The best way to get him to do anything was to make him think it was his own idea. It would have to wait until after he wasn’t sick though. 

With the reminder of your sick kitty, you power through your work for the day, anxious to get home to him. 

♦

You juggle the multiple bags to the kitchen and quickly stick the ice cream in the freezer before you go searching for your hybrid. After checking the bedroom which turned out to be empty, you realize that the lump of blankets on the couch is actually him when you spot a single ear poking out, moving whichever direction you headed. 

A single sneeze came from the kitten burrito, sounding more like it came from a mouse than the usually gravelly voiced hybrid. 

“Yoongi, I brought you dinner. You gonna get up?” 

“Did you bring my sashimi?” 

His poor voice makes you cringe, rough with the coughs and sore throat that he’s been dealing with. You hated seeing him like this. 

“No. I brought you chicken soup, which will actually help you feel better.” 

He pulled the blanket down to pout at you, still looking adorable as he did so despite the watery eyes and red nose. He sniffed and battled a cough before frowning again. 

“I’m not getting up. You’re going to have to feed me.” 

You raise an eyebrow which he merely counters with one of his own. Finally, after a few second standoff, you sigh and go grab the bag with his food, along with some water since you doubted he’d had any today. You also grab the bottle of vitamin C tablets, since it didn’t look like he’d even gotten up today so you were sure he hadn’t taken one yet. 

You set everything up on the coffee table and he scoots up a little bit so that the blanket is around his shoulders, leaving his head out. You take the chance to reach out and feel his forehead, grimacing a bit when you realize it’s a little warmer than it was this morning. 

“If that gets worse, we’re going to the vet whether you like it or not. You can die from high fevers, Yoongi.” 

“I’m a hybrid. I have a naturally higher body temperature than a human, so you don’t know what to judge by. This is fine.” 

You didn’t like it, but you promised yourself you’d keep an eye on it anyway. Hopefully having a decent meal and plenty of water will help for now. You take the lid off the chicken soup, smiling as the aroma hits you. The lady that owned the restaurant was very fond of Yoongi, as the two of you were regulars there, and she had fussed when you told her he was sick. You could tell that she’d put extra ginseng and broth in the soup today to help him get better. 

You take a big spoonful of the rice and broth and tear off a piece of the chicken to place on top before blowing gently to cool it. You guide it to Yoongi’s already open and waiting mouth, the cat resembling a baby bird as he did so. You grin as he chews happily, humming to himself. The bowl is quickly devoured, leading you to believe he hadn’t even bothered to get up and feed himself at all today. 

You had him the vitamin C tablet next and let him chew it before forcing him to drink the entire bottle of water. You’re impressed that he went through the entire meal without a single complaint or criticism. 

Of course, it could just be because he wants his treat. 

You go to the kitchen and dish out a single scoop of ice cream and grab more water just in case. When you bring the treat back to the couch, Yoongi’s face lights up and his eyes are glued to the bowl. He moans when the first bite cools his abused throat. He goes through the entire scoop in mere moments, letting his head fall back against the couch in contentment when it was all gone. 

You set the bowl down on the coffee table before reaching over to check his temp again. It still felt pretty much the same, but it hadn’t gotten worse at least. You brush the hair away from his forehead absentmindedly, just hoping to give him some comfort so he’ll fall asleep. He startles you when he shoves his head into your hand, peeking up at you through heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Pet me.” 

Your jaw drops in surprise. “Really?” 

Instead of answering, he butts into your hand again. With a growing grin, you thread your hands into his hair, slowly combing through it and occasionally scratching around the bases of his ears. Soon, the unmistakable sounds of purring fill the room and you quickly decide the sick and sleepy Yoongi was one of your favorite things (although you still wished he wasn’t sick, of course). 

Just when you think he’s finally nodded off, his eyes shoot open and he clears his throat.

“Diablo.” 

“What?” 

“That cat you bought me. I need it.” 

You shake your head and you fetch the cat plushie from the nearby recliner. 

“You named it Diablo? Why not mittens or socks? Something cute. Look, it has different colored feet.” 

He glares at you and pulls one hand out of the blanket to reach for it. 

“Fine. Here’s Diablo,” you sigh, handing him the toy. He tucks it near his head, then opens the blankets so quickly that you were unprepared for him to pull you on top of him and wrap them around you. 

“Jesus, you’re burning up in here,” you mumble against the warm chest you’re pressed against. 

He hums and tangles his legs with yours and wraps his tail around your waist. 

“Shut up and sleep,” he orders with a loud yawn, adding his arms to the mix so you were basically trapped in the kitten burrito. 

The purring came back moments later, the rumbling as you laid against his chest oddly soothing. He soon started the little puffs of breathing that meant he was nearly asleep, so you closed your eyes and let yourself join him.

♦

There was a rattling sound that slowly woke you from your slumber, but you stubbornly kept your eyes shut until a beam of bright light hit your eyelids, practically blinding you. You opened your eyes and glared at the offender, which turned out to be a smug cat holding the window blinds open so the sun would hit you right in your face. 

“Get up. You’re going to take me to the park today. I’ve been cooped up for too long.” 

You sit up and observe him with a sleepy scowl that quickly changes to a relieved smile when you realize he’s essentially healthy again. His color looks normal and his eyes are clear, and you haven't heard a single sniffle. 

“All better then?” 

“Yup. Pretty sure it was the ice cream.” 

You roll your eyes and sit up, then take the hand he offers you to help you stand and lead you towards the bathroom. 

“Um...thank you for taking care of me. You didn’t need to go all out, but you did, so yeah. Thanks,” he says softly. 

Before you can answer he quickly leans over and pecks your cheek, blushing brightly, before he essentially shoves you into the bathroom. 

You hold the door, still in shock and feeling the touch of his lips on your skin like a brand. You’re sure the grin you’re sporting is dopey as hell. 

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” 

He nods and starts to walk away from the door, only to pause and throw a smirk over his shoulder. 

“Though, I could have been better in one day instead of three if you’d gotten my sashimi.” 

You adored the brat, you really did. 

[soon-deh-ray]

short fic thing??

so you may or may not have noticed, but I decided to discontinue my fic since I just wasn’t feeling it anymore and wanted to move on to writing other stuff. however! back in june, I did write one chapter from later on that I never posted on ao3, and since it works as a standalone, I’m gonna put it here. it’s a little under 2k. hope you like!

(quick tw: this is a flashback to the prince and vanessa’s relationship, so there’s some abuse involved. just be aware!)

Once upon a time, there was a Prince, and where there was a prince, there was a Princess.

The two of them had known one another from near-birth, as their families were very close. By the ages of ten, they had spent countless nights staying up together, telling one another stories of knights that would carry pretty girls away from danger in their arms, and of dragons who guarded troves of gold and precious gemstones. There would be talk of playing pranks on kitchen servants and looking for hidden passageways behind bookshelves. They would swap dresses, tell secrets, chase one another in gardens full of fruits and flowers, taking in the sights and smells of childhood, unbothered by the idea of growing up. The possibilities of youth seemed to stretch on until the end of time.

The Prince had clung to the Princess as if she were his protector. People were so confusing to him; they said things that they didn’t mean, and meant things that they didn’t say. The Princess offered solace and straightforwardness. He could count on her. They were friends, and they loved one another, although the idea of romance escaped them until several years later.

The Princess was devoted, and would have defended the Prince with her life. She swore to take care of him through all things, and to stay by his side forever and ever. She promised to be his knight.

***

The Prince had been told from a young age that when he fell in love, it would be like nothing he had ever known. Warmth would blossom in his chest. Birds would sing. He was told that it was the most wonderful thing a person could ever hope to experience, and that, once he knew who he wanted to spend his life with, he must never let go.

The Princess was told the same.

***

Around the time that the two friends had turned fifteen years old, the Prince revealed to his mother that he was a boy.

Though he had feared rejection, his mother instead kissed him on the forehead and told him that she was proud of him. His father, while stoic, expressed a similar sentiment. They had new clothes tailored for him; suits, trousers, and all other manner of boyish outfits. He was allowed to have his hair cut. He was given new tutors for new subjects. He was encouraged to begin courting young women. He was startled by how quickly and how readily his life had changed to suit him, but for the most part, he didn’t mind. He particularly took an interest in his law course.

The Princess also began to change around him, and it wasn’t long before her touches began to linger more than they used to, her hugs growing a little tighter. When they were sixteen, she began to hold his hand, intertwining their fingers everywhere they went. When they were seventeen, they would sneak out to have picnics by the light of the moon. One night, she kissed him softly and told him that she loved him more than anyone else ever could.

When they were eighteen, she promised to be his bride.

***

Alright, so it wasn’t exactly as the adults in his life had told him, but as far as the Prince was concerned, being in love was rather nice. No sparks flew when they kissed, and his feet didn’t float off the ground when they held hands, but he loved his Princess, and was fairly sure that he always had. Being around her felt good, and as far as he told himself, that was all that he really needed.

The Princess would have disagreed. She knew that her Prince was the only one for her, and that she was the only one for him. When they kissed, she felt that sparks did indeed fly, and when they held hands, she felt as if she was above the clouds. She loved her Prince, always had, and always would. It was unconditional. It was timeless. It was the stuff of fairytales and of dreams. She knew for a fact that it was the kind of love that only came around once in a lifetime, and only to the very luckiest of people. Nobody would ever be able to tell her otherwise.

She tried to convince her Prince of this. Eventually, she began to succeed, though she frequently sighed and pouted and pulled her hair when she was concerned that he may not feel the same way. She would furrow her brow and fidget, allowing him to look upon her and see the unhappiness he was causing. He would stumble over his words, apologize, kiss her, tell her he loved her and that he always would.

She told him to swear on his life that he was telling the truth.

He swore.

***

Throughout their late teens and early twenties, many unfortunate things occurred, but through it all, they stuck together, as they had said they would. The Princess would go on to become the Queen, and while the Prince would attempt to assuage her grief with soft words of love, she only grew more upset. It would have seemed that she did not find “Queen” to be as endearing a title, though the Prince did not realize this, and she never did tell.

Once, the Queen sewed extensions into her Prince’s hair and bleached it, convinced that their matching styles would cement them as lovers with a defining trait. When he awoke, he was horrified. He immediately locked himself in the bathroom, cutting his hair far shorter than it had ever been, choppy and unrefined, desperation clear. He had remained in there for hours, feeling sick and reminded of the long hair he’d had as a child. The Queen waited outside the door the entire time, begging him to let her in, telling him that she was sorry, that she hadn’t meant to upset him. She insisted that she had only wished for them to look as close as they felt, that he was worrying her, that he needed to open this door now and let her know everything was alright, because otherwise she didn’t know what she would do. When the Prince did eventually emerge, she embraced him, crying into his shoulder, remorse consuming her. He hugged her back, weakly muttering his own apologies, sapped of strength.

It felt like his natural auburn took ages to return.

***

When he told the Queen that he was leaving to study abroad, she took her dinner plate, hurled it onto the floor, and stomped into the bedroom. The Prince sat there for several minutes, his meal still unfinished, as a servant swept up the shattered china. He excused himself to no one and went to sit on the front porch of the manor, where they had made their winter home.

It was freezing out. The Prince hadn’t taken a jacket. He sat for hours anyway, unable to cry.

It felt like it had been quite a long time since he had last cried.

He contracted a cold that night, which led to pneumonia, delaying his trip by about a month. The Queen had said, unconcerned with hiding her glee, that it was a sign. That he should stay, and that they should finally be wed. The Prince, who was feverish, said nothing. He only smiled faintly.

She was disappointed beyond words when he arranged to go on the trip anyways.

He was to further his study of law, and, hopefully, attain his license to practice within the next year. He promised to write.

She didn’t say a word to him the day that he left.

The next several months were spent in a country that the Prince found to be much warmer, though try as he might, he couldn’t stop thinking about the Queen’s sad face. He wondered what she was doing without him. If everything was running smoothly while he was gone. If she was happy, and healthy, and everything else that she deserved to be. Less than a week after he arrived, he wrote to her of what he had been doing at the Academy, and of his kind and patient tutor.

That was to say nothing of the street corners and plazas where produce he had never heard of, except in books, was sold, he wrote. The sun was hot, which took him some getting used to, seeing as the manor had been so cold, and people walked about with their arms and legs out in the open, which was hard to imagine during even the warmer months in Subcon. When it rained, it poured, and when the sun shone, it felt as if the ground itself were a stovetop.

The Queen hardly read any of it. She seethed, curled up against the bone-chilling walls of the manor, torn pages and spilled ink on the floor. When she responded, her letters were curt, and often spoke of their engagement. The Prince assured her that he loved her. The Queen did not acknowledge it.

The only books he spoke of were those that dealt with the law. She missed the days where he would join her in composing narratives far more fantastical.

Six months into his long excursion, the Prince finally wrote to her that he was planning to return. Summer was ending, and autumn was beginning. The Queen was elated. She wrote to him of how it had felt like decades since she had last looked upon his face, and how she would be waiting with bated breath for his return.

A week later, for the first time in a while, she left the manor to check up on the citizens of the village. They had been doing well for themselves, and were pleased to see her out and about. One child commented that she looked lovely. The Queen smiled and bit back the urge to respond that only her Prince could say such things, and that if he found out that the comment had been made, he would surely be furious at the child’s insolence.

She decided to stop by some of the shops and see if there was anything her Prince might like her to purchase for him as a “welcome home” gift of sorts. Perhaps she could have a portrait of herself framed for him to take back to the Academy, so that he could see her face whenever he was lonely. She decided to first scope out the flower shop, reasoning that he may appreciate a bouquet of their favorite flowers.

When she peeked through the entrance, she was not prepared for what she saw.

Her Prince was holding the hand of the florist. She swallowed dryly, staring at their smiling faces. Her Prince laughed.

He was holding the hand of a whore, and he was laughing, and the Queen witnessed every second of it.

She fled back to the manor, sobbing.

***

The Prince had not cried in such a long time. To do so now was the most liberating thing he had ever experienced.

His heart was broken, and his shoulders weren’t quite in the correct places, and his tears were frozen to his cheeks, but it did not matter.

He had sworn on his life that he would always love her, and now his life was being taken from him.

He was finally free.

***

Her Prince had gone.

Vanessa wept.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

An In-Spectre Calls || Cassie and Morgan

Set before the potw. Morgan meets Cassie for the first time and asks for some slightly spooky help. 

There was something pathetic about drifting through Eye of Newt alone. Around Morgan teenage witches squealed over crystal balls and bundles of sage, handmade fliers for a Tarot Tuesday covered the table, taper candles of every color stared down their wicks at all the fuss, and so many purple spined books gleamed out from the shelves. It was all so curated, so proud, so...much nicer than the mess of wax and leaves around Morgan’s kitchen table where she made her own wares. Even Vera, Vera, could afford gilt labels for her smudge sticks. Bitch. Worst of all was knowing that few self respecting witches dared to roll the dice here. They had other, better outlets to send for. But Morgan had left a chunk of her self respect somewhere around trying to connect with her ancestors through a three dollar slice of birthday cake. And the shame of all this, re-stocking from her own competition, watching teenagers exercise more freedom and skill with their gel pens than she had bothered to muster lately--settled around her like the heaviest of blankets. At least if she was miserable, she was safe. Probably. 

And so Morgan lingered, bitterly taking mental notes on packaging and pining over books she would not be able to afford for another month or more (Vera saw right through any cash she tried to conjure, every time). She had almost tortured herself to the point of boredom when she spotted a familiar face. 

Oh. Oh no. Was this some kind of cosmic trick? Was that--the pro bono exorcist girl? The moon was still in Capricorn, so that was in her favor, and Friday was her lucky day, but having an expert fall into her lap, or at least someone else’s storefront, was not the kind of gift that generally came her way. Morgan stopped and stared at the girl more than was socially appropriate.

Fuck it. 

Morgan marched up to her, wares still in hand, and leaned over as unobtrusively as she could into her line of sight. She smiled brightly, too mystified at the possibility before her to contain herself. “Hi! This might be a really strange thing to say, but you’re--Cassie, right?” She lowered her voice. “Exorcist Cassie? I hear things around town. And the targeted ads in my mailbox are just--well, anyway, I could really use an expert’s help with summoning something. Someone.” 

If you couldn’t make your own grave dust store-bought was probably fine. Wincing at the price tag mark-up compared with the last place Cassie stopped at to stock up she scanned the rows of jars and tinctures for the last couple of ingredients that had been trashed in transit. Fresh out of ash and with no way to make the stuff without either looking like a serial killer or setting the smoke alarm off. Although, on second thought considering the place she was staying, whatever weirdness she brought with her was likely only the sixth strangest thing in that hotel. Speaking of, the four-dollar hole in her pocket was still stinging from shelling out for those Cheerios late last night. Next stop had to be for something that had actually seen the inside of an oven. With that thought in mind she guessed her next stop would be finding someplace to eat some point. The Thai place she passed last night seemed like a good bet.

Like most of its sister stores around the country this place might have been full of wishful thinkers, but maybe there were a couple things that could do in a pinch. Either way she was limited on options and she doubted there’d be anywhere else offering anything any different. Stooping down to read the price tag of a jar of black salt that caught her attention she registered another person in the vicinity. Assuming it was the owner stopping by she straightened up from her crouch by the jars to stand at full height and grabbed up a jar, about to ask if she had anything a little more specific when she registered her name being mentioned followed by the familiar hushed tones, exorcist. That caught her attention as she seemed to peer over at her interestedly. She seemed earnest enough. It was the eagerness that surprised her. Word got around fast, real fast. Anywhere else the whole thing, the whole business really, was a clandestine operation. The routine, ‘Hey thanks for your services, but get out and let’s never speak of this again’ followed by a swift exit was the norm. Not here though. Here it was practically encouraged almost.

“Uh, yeah. That would be me,” she nodded uncertainty, eyeing the store inventory she was holding. “A summoning? You mean to, you know, deal with something?” It was easy to get lost in translation so she tried to follow it with a gesture that she hoped implied giving the boot, “then I can check into it, sure.”

Morgan couldn’t believe her luck. A real exorcist. A real, helpful, exorcist. She bounced on her feet, resisting the urge to clap her hands with excitement. “I thought I recognized your face! And, whew, that would have been really embarrassing otherwise, accosting some poor random person with words like  ‘exorcist’ and ‘summoning.’” Was she being funny? The image played hilariously in her mind in a terrible sort of way: the total lack of understanding on the stranger’s face, the painfully awkward attempts at saving face. After so many big setbacks, the reach of this stupid, strupid curse, Morgan found herself hard pressed to believe in lucky breaks or happy cooincidences. 

(Did that mean her plan was doomed? Oh god, it might be doomed)

“Oh, but, not like--” she mimicked Cassie’s gesture, growing red and speckled with anxiety. Maybe she should have stayed home and brooded over her hot glue gun situation in quiet isolation instead. Sure,  her cat would have still given her judgement eyes from her nest in the bookshelf, but that wouldn’t be half so bad as having this blow up in her face. But like a bad piece of gum on your shoe, Morgan stuck and kept talking. 

“I mean, I’ll want them, you know,” She gestured again, “Eventually. But first I want to bring something here. After I’ve gotten the information I need, it should probably go back to wherever, I guess,  but I need to get someone first.” 

If Morgan had only sensed the ghost judging her from behind, she might have appreciated how funny her request already was, Cassie’s help or not. 

Cassie tilted her head a little, “right,” she nodded with a small laugh. “Hell of an icebreaker, right?” She offered. “Either that or they’d just tell you to call in Zak Bagans,” she mock grimaced.

She watched as Morgan repeated the gesture, still trying to wrap her head around the request.  Okay, so she did mean summoning something, inviting it. It wasn’t totally unheard of, trying to make contact. Mostly for any lingerers that were already there, but actually folding out the welcome mat? That was still a new one, but she still felt that pang of curiosity that something like that would even work, or why anybody would even want it to. 

I need to get someone first.

Looks like you already got them, she mused not unkindly, finally acknowledging the second shadow nearby. Cassie hadn’t made eye contact with the figure lurking in the background until then, but when she did it made her stop in her tracks for a second. They were there alright, but weak. Whoever they were, she couldn’t make anything out past the general humanoid shape and occasional incline of their head as they listened in. Like they were stuck in some halfway point. Weird.

They were here, but they weren’t thrilled about it, but what else was new? Cassie gave them a look that she hoped implied later and turned her attention back to Morgan as she weighed up the options. What were the chances here that whatever she said she was going to do it anyway? Pretty high she was willing to bet. Putting the jar back on the shelf decidedly, “you know what...sure,” she agreed. “I mean mostly I’m there pointing out the exit sign, “she admitted, “but can’t hurt to be around. Let you know if you’re getting warmer”, and to step in in the off chance the invisible man back there had any ideas she added after a second glance. 

“Hell of an icebreaker, right?” She offered. “Either that or they’d just tell you to call in Zak Bagans,” she mock grimaced.

“Just ‘little white crest things,’ huh?” Morgan replied with a laugh. “I do promise I’m not like this all the time. Sometimes I say things like how are you, and, I don’t know--what nice, normal weather we’re having!”

This was...nice. Almost fun. Morgan began to sweat behind her ears at the thought Fun was the sort of thing she felt she had to trick her way into. Fun was the kind of feeling that hatched big, wild bursts of ‘come and get me while my back is turned you lousy curse’ energy. And, Christ on a cracker, wasn’t she getting ahead of herself? She was talking with Cassie about what amounted to a work thing, not about making friendship bracelets, or going to the Sadie Hawkins dance. Not exactly the stuff of tragedies, even in her own family tree. Could be safe. And if she had managed to shake certain doom for awhile, and since it was doomed to catch up, maybe she should hold it together and enjoy the reprieve. Pretend to be a less disastrous version of herself until later. Hopefully much later. After they found Agnes. 

When Cassie agreed to help, Morgan reigned in the impulse to tackle her with relief. “Thank you, so much! You are amazing, and I will compensate you...somehow. I know conjuring money is pretty high on the questionable morality spectrum, but I can also fix things! If it’s in the broken vase category and not the complicated mechanical one, I can definitely fix it. Or with the right material I can make you something really nice. But, again, not too complicated. I’ve spent more time at the archive than my old alchemy books lately, so. And, drinks, or several, burgers even.” Morgan could feel herself running too fast away from her personal disasters. So fast she almost missed what Cassie added, quietly, as not to set any alarms. Invisible man? What? 

It shattered Morgan’s loop of thought and made her go rigid. She cast her gaze back, head-turning slowly. What did Cassie mean? Invisible? Was she being followed? Maybe she had triggered something in the universe and now she was going to watch this blow up in her face before she’d even started. This might be how she died-- 

Morgan looked. Nothing. Not even a shadow. Then again, that might be the whole point of ‘invisible.’ She turned back to Cassie, suddenly feeling like they needed to get somewhere not in the shop. “Um...what do you mean invisible man?” She whispered. “Like...with some kind of glamour? Or--” It came on her so slowly because until now it had seemed laughably impossible. “Do you mean a GHOST?” She squeaked.

“No kidding,” she laughed, “been here a couple days but this place…it’s something else,” she had to admit. Understatement of the new decade, twenty-four hours in and she felt like she had enough for most of her co-workers to have a field day out here. Difference was, for the most part, she had ethics. “Oh hey, no need. I have a day job,” she waved the offers of compensation off, “you’re good.” The day she accepted cash or handouts for this kind of thing would be the day—wait conjuring cash? At some point, she’d have to ask about that-about all of that, but one thing at a time.

Cassie saw the look that crossed Morgan’s expression and frowned for a second in confusion. It was only after the words were out of her mouth that she realized she’d said that last part out loud and immediately felt like backtracking. Shit, way to scare the crap out of them. She could practically see the alarm bells going off in Morgan’s head. Part of her wanted to bluff, tell her she meant as in the general sense but thought better of it. Better not to start off on a lie. It never ended well.

“Okay so, you’ve got one visitor,” she admitted tentatively, “but you’ve got nothing to worry about, they don’t look like much of a threat.” Cassie cast another glance at them as they continued to hover around nearby like a bad smell. Was that an incline of their head at that last comment? “This’d be a very different conversation if there was, trust me.” She hoped that might take a little of the edge off of it. “I’m free today, least I’ve got nothing much planned. I can stop by, deal with the mystery guest over there, try and get contact properly,” figure out if they’re who you’re looking for,” figure out what they wanted and how they even got there like that she added to herself. The longer she looked at the figure the weirder it got. For a second she thought she saw a pair of eyes take shape before they flickered out again. Interesting. “Or if you wanted to wait,” she blinked and brought her attention back to Morgan, “I can hand over some things to keep them out of your hair for a while give you my cell number and you can text me an address or something. Whichever works.” Cassie pulled her cell out from her pocket and opened her bag out to look for what was left her the black salt but came up empty-handed, “crap, the last of it’s in the car,” she murmured and picked the jar of the stuff she was about to buy again and raised her eyebrows at the price tag. Wow, not for forty dollars I’m not. “This stuff keeps them away,” she lifted the jar back up before putting it back down again. “I have some in the car, but regular salt works, just doesn’t last as long.”

 “Are you sure?” Morgan pressed. “You’re kind of doing me a big favor…” But Cassie seemed pretty sure of her stance. Morgan couldn’t figure out why. There had to be loads of people who would pay a lot for help like this. Now that the weight of making up for her services was off Morgan’s chest, she could admit she would have pushed her powers to limit to make this happen. Why wouldn’t you try and get something out of the deal?

But Morgan didn’t have time to think about this because of what Cassie said next. You’ve got one visitor. She had really done it. Maybe? Hopefully. “A visitor,” she repeated, dumbfounded. “A ghost kind of visitor, following me around.” What if it was Agnes? Or one of Agnes’ children? Morgan looked back over her shoulder again, just in case willpower alone could bring it into her sight and understanding. When looked back at Cassie, her face was glowing with held back excitement.

“I need to find out who it is,” she said quietly. “In case it’s who I’m looking for. But the other stuff would be good too. This maybe-kind-of isn’t my first time trying this, just the first time that it’s worked.” She looked at the salt jar Cassie Hefted and made a mental note to up her game in that area. Forty dollars for a little jar. Maybe she should start charging more for her candles; this family quest was getting expensive. “I’d like to see the kind of salt you roll with,” she added lightly. “I’ve been using mom’s old kosher salt, but that was before I knew I should be upgrading. What’s in your mix that makes it different? And, would it be unprofessional if I hugged you right now?”

“Just the one,” Cassie repeated as if that would somehow make it any better. “They’re hard to make out though, which means either they’re weaker, like they’re new or they’re on the out.” Another glance towards the mystery figure and she was sure she picked up the indignation coming off from their stance alone. “Okay. If I can get some stuff from the car, find somewhere quiet I can try and get a read on them. Figure out if this is your guy.” Cassie’s eyes followed Morgan’s gaze back to the discarded jar, “it’s different for everybody, but I like a mix. A little rock salt-any salt really-” she added quickly on review, “some chalk and some Obit ashes mixed in there. Helps with the ‘ashes to ashes part’ it’s not the main focus though. The main part is the words and the intent that’s there." Morgan seemed so enthusiastic and hopeful, she hoped she wasn’t setting her up for a loss. She could do it, hazy figure aside, but actually summoning something was still out of her wheelhouse. She just hoped she wasn’t about to be a let down. Cassie thought for a moment before answering, “maybe save it for when we actually ID your friend, or at least get some contact on line one.”

Morgan took out her phone and made notes as Cassie explained her salt recipe. There was a cemetery near the Traveler’s Rest, should be easy to come by the ashes. She didn’t trust her alchemy-brewed stuff to do the trick, not when it came to warding off whatever had come out of that cake. Morgan didn’t know much about what she was getting into, but she was aware she had passed the ‘in over your head’ signpost few miles behind packing up her life and moving to White Crest. 

She settled for a thumbs up at Cassie instead of the hug. “Too soon, got it,” she said, laughing it off. “But it’s not about the success. I mean, success would be great, obviously, but I’ve been at this--for good reason!--for three years now, and this is the first time I’ve gotten, like, help from anyone. Even if you have to go back to your very expert drawing board, I’m still appreciative. Really.” Something in her sombered at the truth in those words, three years banging her head against her laptop, three years trying to get out of bed, trying not to derail her life anymore than this stupid curse already had. Three years and now she was at the zero hour. Of course she was grateful for even the illusion of progress. What did she have left to lose this year except her life anyway? Her shitty jobs? But that wasn’t the right mindset. Think positive. Move forward. She pepped herself up and headed for the door. “So! Let’s go figure this out!”

Mulling over what Morgan had said. About this being the first time anybody had offered some actual help rankled a little. If you could kick them out it stood to reason there was a way to call them up. It might actually be useful for a few things. Maybe if they were lucky whoever she was trying to get hold of was actually still around, strange as that was to say considering, they could actually make contact. “Three years?” Cassie felt her eyebrows raise involuntarily at that information. “Well, least you’ve got it now, the help I mean. If at first you don’t succeed get mad and try again,” she joked. Even if this didn’t go down well first time around, she had a more than a little healthy curiosity at the idea of something like that actually working. “You must really need this guy for something.” Not about to pry, but you didn’t spend that time trying over something trivial. Following Morgan’s lead and heading outside and back out towards where her car was parked Cassie took out her keys and grabbed the duffle bag out from the trunk and draped it over one shoulder. She shifted the weight a little and used her free hand and lifted up a piece of the padding covering the spare tyre space. “One second. I just need a couple things.” Cassie grabbed up a few loose items and stuffed them inside the bag, “this might help identify Mr Mysterio. Get a better signal and figure out if this is your guy.” Closing the trunk over again she turning back to Morgan with a smile. “Okay, and we’re all set. Lead the way.”  

“L-lead the way,” Morgan repeated, hoping that repetition would rattle something into place. “To the ghost place, that--would make sense.” She began to walk in the general direction of the traveler’s rest. “But, it’s really interesting you should say that. Because, there’s my room at the Traveler’s Rest where I do most things right now, and there’s Al’s where I did the spell. Or I think I did.” Her cheeks were growing hot again. This had all seemed reasonable, even expected in the moment, but preparing to say it out loud, she suddenly felt like an idiot. “I’m working from scratch with this, but there was a spell on google that seemed to have a familiar structure to it, and I picked the right day, I checked the moon, and all that for maximum potency. But, there might have been...cake involved. And admittedly, that seemed like an interesting ask for a request from the beyond. I don’t know if I should take you to the spot where it happened, or if we just need to duck into my room so the muggles won’t stare at us since they’re supposed to be drawn to me and not the place?” Her voice rose higher as she spoke, struggling to maintain the very logical order of planning she had taken the trouble of going to. “Anyways, it’s...all the same direction. Just a little more--this way. And I can pull up the spell, if that helps.” 

“That’s where I live-well, I don’t live there. I’m staying there, or I have a room there anyway.” Cassie wasn’t staying here she reminded herself. It was temporary like everywhere else. “That works,” she looked back over at Morgan with a nod, “or if you wanted somewhere more out in the open, there’s Al’s.” That one was the least favourite option. She hated an audience to this stuff. Growing up it was something to be buried away, not broadcast in public. It was hard to get out of that way of thinking. Old habits died hard that way. “Not sure what the rules are for summoning ghosts in the diner though. Might be a no shirt, no shoes, ghosts, no service,” she joked. Cake? Wait, how did cake figure into it? Okay, that was a question for a little later. Not the time. There was her least favourite word in this kind of context; Google. Hypocritical as that was, she’d done the same thing back before she put her foot down with her parents and got someone that actually knew what they were doing to step in. Ray was a cantankerous jerk that first day, but he knew his stuff. Saved her getting fried anyway. “Google kind of sucks for anything with ghosts. First removal invocation I looked up there had a chunk of it missing,” she admitted. “I was twenty-two and stupid,” she made a brief grimace, “good thing I asked somebody else or I wouldn’t be talking to you. Looks like something might’ve worked, don’t think your friend has been hanging around here all that long. What did this spell on google look like?” Cassie asked, curious now. Maybe it was some sort of banishment circle gone wrong, like they’d copied it wrong, got the opposite effect. Who knew at this point. 

“Yeah, I guess it’s hard to call that living, huh?” Morgan said. “Home-sweet-not-home it is.” They continued the journey together, and Morgan told her everything she could about the spell. She had recognized one of the sigls as something she’d seen in an invocation book. She couldn’t remember what the book had said it was for exactly, but the sighting had given her hope. The plan had been to harness the energy of familiarity to reach out to other spirits who had that energy in common. So, her birthday, the land where the people she was looking for had lived, and a birthday cake, which commemorated the continuation of her family. A little fire, a few words, a little saliva to create a taste of life and boom, call made, familial tether climbed, ancestors summoned. She hadn’t noticed or felt anything different at the time. She had assumed she had done something wrong, or supernatural google wasn’t quite on par with her needs as she’d hoped. She showed Cassie a screenshot and went on. She was trying to get in touch with some ancestors. She had some unfinished business with them, funny, right? Only her magical department wasn’t so much in parting the veils or whatever as it was turning stuff into different stuff. As they neared the Traveler’s Rest, she fished around in her pocket for her old set of keys. She plopped them onto her pop socket and gestured. The keys shaped themselves into a metal cuff, a robot figurine. She made it float before coaxing the metal back into keys again. “Neat, right?”

Morgan’s things were splayed all over her room, two large suitcases worth, seemingly made larger by the cramped space. Morgan cleared a spot in the middle of the floor. “I have some Arizona Tea in the mini fridge if you want any. But why not first things first? How do we talk to my visitor friend?” 

They were keys. They were keys and then they weren’t and then they were in the air. Then they were keys again and that’s the moment life stopped making sense for a second.

Neat, right?

That was one word for it. Cassie couldn’t even nod, just stood there in stunned silence and stared at the keys in Morgan’s hand as she opened the door out and stepped inside. Talking about that kind of thing was once thing, but seeing it in front of her? Whole different ball game. “…Sounds-sounds, yeah,” she found herself saying, her voice sounding a little far away. Reality snapped back again with a bang and she remembered what she was even there for. Right, focus. The way Morgan had been talking and judging from the picture she saw it sounded more and more like a variation of a banishment circle. An inverted one maybe. First thing was first, making contact.

“Oh, that part’s easy,” right, get it together. The solution to that particular snag was simple. “One second,” Cassie dug out a pen and a scrap of paper and scrawled down the alphabet and placed it on the nearest flat surface she could find. “Just needed some quiet first.”

Thank you Stranger Things, Cassie stepped back and addressed the mystery guest, “if you want to just point to tell me what your-” she didn’t get to finish that sentence before the figure darted to the paper and the pen laying beside it. They jabbed their hand in an attempt to move the Biro and watched as they seemed to grow frustrated in their attempts. Wow, they really were weak. Usually most ghosts could conjure up just enough energy to move a biro a couple centimetre across a page for all of ten seconds. “Or, if you want, you can just point. If it’s easier,” seemed they took that as a challenge and the pen started to shift, “…Okay,” she gestured, giving the go-ahead and waited as they pointed over to each letter.

W.A.N.T….F.R...

Cassie turned back to Morgan once she figured out the gist of it. “They want to know what you want,” when they started up again.

L.E.T.G.O

Oh. Fuck. Morgan took all of her attempts to get in touch with the dead very seriously, it was kind of a matter of life and death at this point, but whatever she had hoped for at the end of each attempt, it didn’t look anything like this. Cassie was sitting with a freaking piece of paper from a notebook and a ballpoint pen, nothing special or consecrated, just practical. And it was moving. Moving all by itself. It was shaking, like the hand holding it was too upset or too weak to hold it together properly. Morgan shifted away from it on the floor. Seeing this invisible force want things, demand things, show--feeling made her uncomfortable in a way she didn’t want to unpack. Wasn’t that what they had always been? And what did it really change about what she needed anyway?

“Um, okay,” she breathed, keeping her voice steady with effort. “That’s nice. Good to know. Sorry you’ve been...here, for so long. But I am going to need some information from you first before we can do that. Okay?” She squared her shoulders back and tried to adopt the kind of voice she used on her freshmen college students. “Now, who are you? What’s your name?”

Watching Morgan move away from the sheet of paper as though it was contagious Cassie realised, she had forgotten how this kind of thing might look to an outsider. What was grade school stuff to her was the stuff of nightmares to somebody else. She recognised that weird waxy looking shade Morgan had paled to and Should’ve just asked them to point. Tell, don’t show this time.

Cassie offered Morgan a look of encouragement as the mystery guest responded, Floor’s all your,s and looked over to their guest who listened and inclined their head as if they were studying her. They folded their arms over for a few moments before answering as thought they were a few moments away from doing the opposite and b an ass. Cassie shot them a look and looked at Morgan again then as the pen began to move again. A lot less stable than before as they slowly spelled the words out.

S.E.A.N…B.A.C.H.M.A.N

Okay, now they were getting somewhere. They had a name. “This your guy?” Cassie asked. She still didn’t understand what she did, but recognising that whatever it was it had worked somehow.

...E.T....G.O…C.A.L.L.E.D…H.E.R.E…..A.P.O.L.O.G.I.Z

Cassie frowned at that last message and now it was her turn to look at the figure, Sean, she corrected herself, her head inclining. 

“Ooh! Sean! You’re Agnes’ nephew, right? Your dad was named Abel?” Not who Morgan was looking for, not even close, and she shook her head at Cassie in a sheepish universal signal of ‘close but no cigar.’ Still, she felt an electric rush of excitement. This was more direct contact than she’d gotten...ever. Ever-ever. The rest of his message was a lot more puzzling. Who was apologizing? Sean hadn’t done anything wrong, at least not that she’d dug up yet. “We’ll get to that Sean, but I’m wondering if you know anything about your aunt? If she...kept a secret book of magic maybe? Or if you saw her, or heard maybe…” Fuck it. “If you heard of her doing something bad enough that might make someone curse our whole family?” She felt cold all over and out of breath just from asking. She’d been nosing around ancestry sites and state records for so long, she had picked up her whole life, she had pestered Cassie in the middle of a shop, all for this, all without putting her finger on the big, awful magic button of a reason. And having to ask it out loud now, even in the most common sense of ways frustrated Morgan. It was a reminder that there was a chance the answer might be no. Maybe the afterlife had turned Sean’s memory to custard, or he just hadn’t been the kind of kid to overhear rumor. “Anything, Sean?” She pressed. “Be honest.”

Success? Cassie looked over expectantly and clocked the expression on Morgan’s face and felt her shoulders slump slightly. No, crap. That had to sting. So close, she actually had somebody here and judging by the look that passed her features they’d missed the mark by a few miles.

I’m wondering if you know anything about your aunt?

 Y.E.S

The pen continued to move and while Cassie had next to zero to compare this it seemed like who Morgan had got hold sounded like they were a family member. Close, right? Cassie sat back and kept watch and listened as Morgan reached out to Sean. Her eyes darted up again at Morgan’s words at the end there. Eyebrows raised in concern. Cursed?

…O.W…D.A.R.E...

 “Just answer the question and you can be on your way. Come on, man.” It was round about then that Sean decided to have a temper tantrum and managed to tear the paper a few centimetres in his answer. It seemed to take it out of him. She saw him fade further and stop .“I think he wore himself out with that one.” It was a while before he summoned up the energy to fade back to view again.

…T.E.L.L….Y.O.U….N.O.T.H.I

The light on one of the bedside tables clinked and the TV switched on and off for a second at that outburst.

….R.E.L.E.A.S.E….ME…

What a baby. “Spooky. Very good,” Cassie shook her head and spoke in a deadpan tone. “I know you’re pissed but don’t be an ass, Sean, or we’re going to have a problem.”

Morgan clenched her fists in her lap to keep from shaking. This was getting very real, very quickly, and somehow not at all fulfilling in the way she’d hoped. The paper was making noises all by itself, and it was one thing to look away from the screen when things started getting weird in The Conjuring, but something else entirely when the jump scare was right in front of your face. There was nowhere to go from this. Morgan looked behind her and saw the TV flickering, like some five year old on a sugar high was going crazy with the switch, and the tables were rattling louder without anyone being there. Morgan’s eyes had been stretched open long enough to tear up. She was sure if she closed them she’d make up some excuse for what she was seeing, she’d try to tell herself that this was wrong and definitely impossible. But the only thing scarier than seeing this happen, was to never see it happen. Fuck. 

“Sean, you asshole! Cut it out!” She screamed over the noise. “You tell me what you know!”

But Sean was not remotely interested. Morgan felt down in her pocket to the salt stash she had and threw it near the paper. 

“You wanna stay here forever, Sean?” She asked. “Because I don’t give a shit if you’re stuck with me forever, okay! You can throw a fit all year for all I care, got it? So spit it out already!”

Cassie shot Sean’s general figure an exasperated look and turned to Morgan and frowned in confusion. Where was he getting this idea he wasn’t free to go here? She really wasn’t about to enlighten them any time soon. Looking at Morgan just as the ‘I want to speak to the manager theatrics’ flared up again she saw Morgan glance around looking rattled. Crap. She knew that look. Cassie saw the clenched fists and shot her a worried look.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Cassie reached over but paused when she realised then that it wasn’t all fear there. There was some anger bubbling under the surface and stopped, sitting back down beside the paper. “Just some grade school level theatrics. He couldn’t blow the fuse on a lightbulb,” Cassie shot Sean a glare. Was it really so hard for the douche to just give Morgan what she wanted so they could just drop kick him back to the beyond like he wanted here? “And if you do, I’m going to have some words you’re not going to like.” Turned out the reassurance really wasn’t needed here. Morgan was holding her own. More than; she was outright making demands, tossing salt she didn’t even remember she had on her at the paper. Fast learner.

You can throw a fit all year for all I care, got it? So spit it out already

“What she said,” Cassie shrugged and looked for a second at the salt Morgan had just tossed in Sean’s general direction, “and if she thinks about throwing any more of that there’s not a damn thing I’m doing to do to stop her. I’ll tell her where to aim. Your call.”

S.K….C.O.N.S.T.A.N.C.E…L.E.A.V.E….M.E

The pen moved, with urgency then, spelling out a name. Now, that wasn’t to hard, was it?

Morgan came back to herself with Cassie’s agreement, what she said. Oh. Shit. She’d really let loose there. Threatened her ancestor, even if he was kind of a dick, wasted some salt aiming at whichever part of the air had looked most threatening. Cassie, for her part, didn’t seem too upset about her seasoning the ghost, and Morgan didn’t know what to make of that, except that she would have to explain a lot more about her situation than she’d had to in a long time. But that could wait. Hopefully. Sean was telling them about...someone named Constance. Morgan couldn’t remember how she fit into her family story off the top of her head. Was she Constance’s mother? Her daughter? It was right on the edge of her recall, but she couldn’t reach it. But it was better than nothing. 

“Fine,” she said flatly. “Fine, go.” She still had some salt in her hand and threw it again. “Fuck you anyway, though. And tell Constance I’m coming for her.” She turned to Cassie for help, holding her sweater close around her chest, flushed with embarrassment.

Cassie watched as Morgan threw the remainder of salt in her hand towards the paper again, but something strange happened in the seconds before the salt even went airborne. Cassie didn’t get the chance to even start to send him away. There second Morgan uttered the word go the ghost that was formerly known as Sean zapped out like an old television. Blipped back to the void as if being pulled back somewhere. “That was new,” was all she could manage then with raised eyebrows. “He’s already gone,” she clarified, shaking herself out of it. What the hell was that?

“Okay,” she spoke again eventually as the quiet descended. “I have no idea what you did,” she admitted, still processing, “but that’s uh, that’s different.” Understatement, the air shifted, she felt that much. Swore she heard a faint popping sound as they went. “Did you get what you wanted? Sort of anyway? A name is a start, right?” Cassie shifted back and let out a breath. “So, um, walk me through what you did here, with the circle. Maybe we can get somebody else.”

Morgan flopped back on the floor when Cassie said he was gone. She didn’t know how she could tell, and without anything to tell by she almost didn’t believe it. This...this was good, right? This was progress...in that it was more ghost she’d spoken to in her whole life, certainly more than she had gotten out of any of her magic experiments. She would have to find out who Constance was, what she had to with all this. Agnes had been the one everyone talked about, but maybe she was just the baby monster. Oh god, if this was going to turn into a Grendel’s Mother situation-- Morgan put her head in her hands and breathed out long and hard. One thing at a time. “I um...I can send you the stuff. I have the webpage saved, but I don’t know if I can do it again, without some meaningful date and a new moon, or maybe not, maybe that was bullshit…” she was mumbling, half in a daze, as she pawed around the messy floor for her computer. She pulled it up and sent it to Cassie’s account on the town social media network. Handy, that. She stood up and dusted off a whole lot of nothing off her jeans. “I got something alright!” She said, scrambling to put her smile back on. “Thank you for helping on short notice. You’re really nice, and I’ll find a way to make it up somehow. Maybe when, um, the adrenaline is a little, uh, less, we can figure something out.” Or not. Cassie seemed like she might make a good shortcut through the mess, but she might also be fast-tracking herself into the danger zone. But if it meant not running from herself anymore, maybe it would be worth it anyway.

[joonsgalaxy]

what d’you want? some dick?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: i have no idea. fluff? friends to lovers, but they're hella oblivious, best friends au

word count: 2 k

warnings: conversations about dick, some titty loving

a/n: this drabble was written during breaks at work, but i hope it’s still worth reading. oh, and of course i had to name the fic that way, i love vines

**********************

Staring at the ceiling, Namjoon racks his brain for another one of his assets. He did already mention his astounding intelligence (he used that exact phrase, by the way), his nice hair and his adorable dimples. You’d remind him of his toned legs, but this is a competition and you don’t like losing. He finally shrugs, eyes back on you. ‘Big dick.’

You almost choke on your spit as Yeri ooh’s from the other side of the room.

‘That’s not fair. It doesn’t count,’ you conquer, feeling your cheeks warm up.

‘How so?’ Namjoon asks, brows furrowed. Obviously, he likes winning, too. ‘It’s common knowledge that big is good.’

‘It depends,’ Yeri chimes in. ‘By the way, is it really big, or are you just grasping at straws here?’

‘Well, I mean—

‘Stop right here,’ you interrupt your best guy friend so he wouldn’t continue talking about his thing. ‘We can’t compare this stuff, so it doesn’t count anyway. It’s not about that.’

‘You could say you have...’ Namjoon vaguely gestures at your upper body, glancing down at your chest. ‘They’re, um...’

It’s not that you don’t want to hear what he has to say about them, but you’re definitely too self-conscious for that shit. So you hastily wrap your arms around your body to block the view. ‘Stop staring!’

‘I’m not staring. I’m just saying, you know...’

You scowl at him, glaring as if he has just insulted your cat. ‘Just stop talking.’

When you started the conversation about your advantages when it comes to dating people, you didn’t think the conversation would go there. Why would you think it would go there? You’re not experienced and you’re not even aware of your merits in that particular subject.

‘Yeah, everyone knows Y/N has awesome boobs to squish, but there’s no way of knowing about the size of your dick,’ Yeri narrates her thoughts passionately as if she was a professor discussing a pressing subject during a lecture. ‘You never fucked anyone in our friend circle, so no one has said about it anything.’ By the time she finishes, she looks almost offended.

You’re still feeling as though the air in the room has gotten 15 degrees warmer.

‘I hate drama,’ Namjoon says. ‘Friends are friends, y’know. When you start fucking around there’s always some drama lurking around the corner. It’s inevitable.’

You barely manage to stop the pout that was threatening to come to your lips. He is right of course, but hearing him say it definitely had an effect on you. And a negative one at that. Clearly, he was against dating one’s friends.

‘True true,’ Yeri nods like a horse.

‘I don’t wanna lose, though,’ the boy, comfortably seated in the armchair, states.

You exhale dramatically. ‘Ugh, who cares. It’s silly anyway. Let’s just order a pizza or something.’

‘Yeah no way,’ Namjoon argues, indignation lacing his words. ‘It’s 4:3 now. I want my well-deserved point!’

‘4:3?’ You question. ‘Did you just really count my tits as my advantage?’ You mentally slap yourself in the face with a bag of frozen peas; why talking about this stuff made you so shy and hot?

‘Well, yeah. Of course,’ Namjoon answers nonchalantly. And you don’t know whether you should fling yourself into the sun or fucking die right here and now in front of him, Kim Namjoon, your long-time crush. HE LIKES YOUR BOOBS. That’s an accomplishment right there. You got an A+ on this one test in high school? You passed your driving exam on the first try? Who cares about all of that? Surely nothing can compare to this. He likes your boobs. Even you sometimes hate them. Hot damn. ‘I could just show it to you.’ Namjoon points at his crotch leisurely.

‘You could what now?’ Your jaw drops, but you quickly regain your composure. ‘Yeah right,’ you scoff.

‘Hey, why not?’ Yeri asks, basically jumping up from her seat.

‘It’s not a big deal,’ Namjoon shrugs, keen eyes (opposite to what his body looks like) focused on you. It’s as if it was his plan all along. That couldn’t be true right? Why in the hell he would want to show you his badingadong. God, you can’t even call it a co—.. a peni—ugh. Goddamnit.

‘You said it’s big, though,’ Yeri smirks at Namjoon’s choice of words.

‘It’s—

She’s impatient. ‘Just pull your pants down. I’ll be the judge.’

‘No! Don’t do that! Ew...’

‘Ohh... you know what?’ Yeri whispers to Namjoon, but there’s a whole room between them so you can hear her rather distinctly when she declares, ‘She’s a virgin.’

‘Oh my god,’ you gasp, lowering your gaze, covering your eyes with your hand as if it would help to disappear and never meet Namjoon ever again. My goodness.

‘Oh?’ He questions, intrigue in his tone ringing as clear as the chirping of crickets in the middle of the night.

‘How about that pizza, guys?’

‘Who needs pizza when there’s dick.’ Yeri is particularly determined tonight, it seems.

You wish you could key smash in real life as a reaction to their conversation. Instead, you do the second best thing—grunt. ‘Stop!’

Namjoon laughs, shifts in his seat.

Yeri proceeds to make her point. ‘It would be like a lesson so you wouldn’t freak out when you see your future boyfriend’s dick!’

‘No. Nope. No.’

‘C’moooon. It’s no big deal, like Joon here said himself. He’d be doing you a favour.’

Well, it would be good to have at least some kind of experience in these things, that’s probably true. Even though you never imagined this taking place—seeing a real life dick for the first time because of some stupid game—it doesn’t seem that bad of an idea. In a way.

And, of course... it’s Namjoon, so the temptation is even stronger than if it were some other dude. The backstory is kind of confusing. There was this one time during one of your little parties, when Namjoon spent the whole evening right beside you. He had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, or your waist, and it felt... nice. Like really very nice. Though, you weren’t sure if he was just being friendly or whether he was trying to flirt with you, so you just kind of brushed it off as “being tipsy and bored”. You did wonder, though, if he would have tried something else had you not been so indifferent. He also likes to call you from time to time. Just to talk to you about his day or something he’s been wondering about lately. He’s cute and sweet; he’s smart and witty; he’s Kim Namjoon and you have been in love with the boy for almost two years now.

Would your friendship have some sort of shift after you’d see his... Could you look at him and not think about his crotch? Could you sit on his lap during those short car trips to some bar late at night and not get hot like you’re in a fucking sauna?

Most importantly, will you be able to stop yourself from staring too intently tonight? From licking your lips or just straight up asking him if you could maybe perhaps if there’s a possibility touch it?

Oh, Joonie, you sweet, incredibly handsome boy, what are you doing to me?

‘Fine.’ Your voice is barely audible. You’re not sure whether they caught it or not. Maybe it’s for the better. There’s no way anyway that—

‘Wait, what?’ Well, it’s obvious Yeri did hear something. But could she understand it? ‘Fine? Did you just say fine?’ Yep. She heard it loud and clear apparently. Awesome. Just perfect. What now?

‘I mean, yeah, whatever, I don’t care,’ you say with as much nonchalance as you possibly can at that moment. Fake it til you make it, right?

‘Ohhh...’

‘You serious? So I just pull my pants down, right?’

‘How else you gonna do this?’

‘Right. Okay.’

Namjoon can’t fucking believe this is about to happen.

Is he crazy? Did he bump his head into something? Maybe he did. Maybe this is all a dream. Or maybe he just really wants to seduce his long-time crush, and by the looks of it this might be his last chance at it; you didn’t care about anything else he’s been doing for you. Like the time he attempted to let you know about his feelings by holding you close the whole night. You were as indifferent as a child watching news on television.

Fuck it.

He stands up, hooking his thumbs under his sweatpants, and mentally prepares for the reveal.

He is feeling a little more blood flow toward his crotch, but hopefully it isn’t obvious. That would be freaking embarrassing. But what can he do, when the thought of you seeing his dick makes his head spin.

Okay. 1...2...3—

‘Oh, sorry,’ your rushed words come out of your pretty mouth and stops Namjoon from doing anything. You’re clutching your phone in your hands, glancing at the screen. ‘Have to go. Like right now.’ Oh...

Namjoon just stands there with his thumbs still in his waistband and a heart pounding in his temples. Don’t you have just two seconds to spare before you leave?

Apparently not. You basically jog toward the door and out the room.

‘Is something wrong?’ Yeri asks, jumping to her feet as well.

‘Nope, not at all, don’t worry. I just have to go home. Text you later.’

‘How about—

‘You look. Tell me about it later.’

And just like that you are out the front door.

Namjoon and Yeri are both standing in the room, rather awkwardly, and both don’t know what to do next.

‘So...’ Yeri begins. ‘If you wanna win, I guess you have only one option.’

Namjoon inhales, exhales slowly. ‘Uh-ha.’

If truth be told, he’s a bit disappointed. Kinda a lot, actually. What’s the point of it now? He doesn’t care about that stupid bet. Not anymore, anyways. Though, he can’t really let it show to Yeri, who could catch on it and realize Namjoon is helplessly in love with you.

Okay, here we go. 1...2...—

‘Wait,’ Yeri holds up a hand. ‘Can I ask you a serious question?’

‘Uhh, I guess..?’ How much longer he’ll be standing here like this?

‘Do you like Y/N?’

The question catches him off guard; he can’t control his reaction to it; his brows rise, his heartrate picks up.

‘Romantically. Do you like her?’

‘I, er...’

‘Just be honest. I won’t say anything to her.’ Surprisingly, Yeri seems genuine about it. ‘I just need to know before you...’ She points at Namjoon’s lower half.

His arms fall loosely by his sides. He’s been caught.

So if she knows, then you probably noticed it too? Fuck. Then it definitely means that you’re not interested in him, judging by your reactions to his closeness to you.

Namjoon gulps, thinks about it.

‘C’mon, we’re not children anymore, just say it.’

‘Yes,’ he states, remembering that honesty is the best policy. ‘Yes, I do like her.’

‘Ha! I knew it!’ Yeri grins in victory.

Namjoon sighs. ‘I’ll get over it, don’t worry...’

‘What? Oh. I mean... you don’t have to... Um, I— anyways... I think I shouldn’t see it. You know, it’s just... you like my friend, and she—I mean, it just doesn’t seem right.’

Surely, this is the first time Namjoon is seeing Yeri so serious and understanding. Usually she’s really laidback and fun and ready to make everything into a joke. Right now she seems considerate of everyone’s feelings.

‘I’ll tell her you have the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.’

‘You shouldn’t say that—

‘You can thank me later.’

[stories-mostly]

Stark's Bug

Tony Stark x Son!reader

I have nothing to say this time besides enjoy the usual type of writing that you should expect here by now. And its earlier than usual so :)

Warnings: minor mentions of alcoholic drinks, if theres more dont be afraid to tell me, please.

Words: 1381

Chapter 10!

A bit over a week later your dad was ready to fly again. And you were as tired as ever. It was late at night and you had woken up really early that day, but still wanted to see how it would go. So you forced yourself to stay awake.

Your dad started with 1% thrust capacity and hovered more than he flew. It made the room warmer with a slight breeze.

You were waiting for a crash but it didn't come. It was exciting that he could do it but a crash would've been funny, maybe woken you up a little bit. Now with the warmth you were actually more tired than before.

He increased to 2.5% and hovered really closely over the cars. Your eyes were trying to close at this point.

Tony suited up and flew away with a wave.

You fell asleep the second it was quiet in the lab. Fast enough that your anxiety about being alone couldn't kick in.

You were startled awake by a loud crash and the car alarms blaring.

Had your powers not caught you, you would've fallen off the chair you had been sleeping on.

Now you were just floating mid air trying to figure out what had happen with your heart beating loudly. Once your eyes adjusted you saw your dads armor laying on top of a car. There was a big hole in the roof. You smiled, too tired to laugh and sat yourself back down.

Your dad brought you into your room once the armor was off and went to sleep himself. It had been quite a long day for the both of you.

After school you went straight to the lab. Most of your time was spent there currently. Though you are bored out of your mind there most times. Your homework was as easy as ever and there was nothing to do. Smart-I was also done. She was a cute little robot and with your dad's help was fully functioning. She mostly just rolled around making little chirping noises like R2D2. They didn't have any particular meaning, they were just there to be cute.

Tony noticed your bored figure and decided that you could help him with something.

"Come here Bug, I need your help." he said and you practically sprinted over.

"Look, don't you think the suit looks a bit bland? Could you give me an idea for the colors?" he pointed at the suit on the screen. He smiled at you.

Thinking for a moment and you went away.

"one second." you said as you moved to your workbench grabbed your pens and paper and went to work. You tried your best to draw the outline of the suit and decided on colors you likes best together.

"I'm done. Here." you handed your dad the red and yellow drawing of his armour back with the blue spot in the middle.

"That looks great, thank you bug."

He told Jarvis to paint the new suit the way you had drawn it. Your older AI brother made a snarky remark about it being very subtle. But before your dad could respond some reporter lady caught his eye. She was talking about a party for your dad.

"Jarvis did we get an invite for that?" he asked and Jarvis said that he didn't.

Your dad decided to go there and crash his own party.

"Can I come?" you asked walking after him. You've never been to one of those parties.

He thought for a second. What was more irresponsible, leaving a six year old alone in a mansion with robots but also dangerous tools and sort of weapon, or taking him to one of the rather tame business parties/galas full of strangers and only a little bit of alcohol.

Both were pretty irresponsible but he really didn't want to leave you home alone since you asked to go with him.

"Alright put your best suit on! We're leaving in 10 minutes."

You did as told and put on your good suit you had only worn a few times before.

Tony helped you with the tie and buttons and off you went speeding down the streets. You liked to drive fast. Well you liked when your dad drove fast, you had no idea how to drive. Yet.

Before arriving your dad handed you your sunglasses knowing that camera flashes would blinding as soon as he steps out of his car.

He helped you out of the car and as predicted the media went nuts. You waved at the reporters as Tony guided you along into the building.

Inside you walked past a load of people swaying to and talking over the music.

"Stay close." Your dad said not letting go of your hand.

You weren't planning on leaving anyway to be honest you kind of wish right about now that you hadn't told him that you didn't want to be carried.

At the bar you saw a familiar face. Coulson was talking to your father before said man left without you noticing. You had been too busy staring at the Spy-Agent to pay attention to your father.

But your father didn't notice either.

"Hi again." you said smiling up at the man.

"Hello, (y/n) right? What are you doing here?" He asked while you climbed up the barstool. He helped you a bit.

"Thank you, daddy took me with him. And you?" You asked right back. You were confident in your conversation skills.

"I was invited." He stated.

"For the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division?" You asked turning the glass of juice the bartender gave you.

"Yes. You memorized that?" he asked a bit stunned. You could only nod. It was rather easy for you to keep stuff in your head. Memorizing is one of your talents.

"Do you have your gun now?" You questioned remembering the last time you talked.

"No. And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you." He said winking. You nodded once again and let your eyes wander through the crowd of people dancing. You couldn't see your father anymore. Just as you were about to panic he came back. But then Phil was gone. Today is strange. Maybe Phil could teleport, who knows.

"Hey Bug, sorry I left you. I was just on the balcony with Pepper for a bit." He explained taking the question out of your mouth and ordered two drinks. He told you that one is for Pepper before he could take them and walk with you to the roof he was interrupted by a reporter lady. A different one, one that wasn't in the TV before. You had never seen her before.

She gave him some pictures and asked him questions in a rude tone. Before you could react they were gone. Tony had an energy about him that didn't make you want to be involved with whatever was going on. He'd come back. He will. Most likely. Hopefully.

You grabbed your and Peppers drink without the bartender noticing and made your way onto the Balcony which you searched for for about three minutes. Pepper was standing there with her hair open, you almost didn't recognize her.

"Here! Daddy got it for you but went outside after a reporter gave him some pictures of a war zone and the weapons of the bad guys." you said handing her the glass in your left hand. The one that smells bad but looks nice.

Pepper took it and looked at you a bit.

"The bartender just let you take the drink?" she asked concern in clear on her face.

"He wasn't looking." you said and took a sip of your juice. Pepper nodded and did the same.

"You look nice."

"Why thank you sir. That's so kind of you. You look great as well."

"Thank you!"

After a bit of a pause Pepper spoke up again.

"You want me to bring you home?" She asked. You thought about it and nodded. It's a bit too much here for you and your dad would be fine with Pepper taking you home.

Maybe he went to the city on the pictures to help. Or maybe he went home to do some research. Who knows? You wanted to know. Pepper took your hand and you left being driven home by a driver you didn't recognise. But it didn't matter to you since he was kind enough.

You hadn't even realised Uncle Obie was there until the car drove off.

Tags: @shannonr2003 @art-estrange @nicholasbich @tater-thottie @tonystanktheirondad @gaylemonshark @emilaa2001

[nelvana]

In which the forest of ice is explored

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which curses are spoken of Previous: In which those at home do what they can

    Ninetales was going to be harder to reach this time. Nelvana knew that.

    She carefully sat in her perch from a pine that they had decided to camp by. It was one of the few sturdy trees that sat in the ecotone between the burning Mt. Blaze and the freezing Frosty Forest. From up here, she could see where the land began to become covered in a thick layer of ice and snow, where the temperature would only plummet from here.

    This time, she would have none of the advantages that had helped her before. She would not have Alex’s speed, Keahi’s warmth, or even Tsuki’s guidance. In fact, Gengar’s “ability” to absorb heat along with her ground-typing might complicate this even further.

    None of these concerns had been brought up to her traveling companion, or her teammates back at home. Despite the dread building up inside her at the thought of having to pass through this area again, she didn’t want anyone else to worry. While she could not remember it, she felt like she had been through worse anyway.

    Quietly, Nelvana made her way down the tree and onto solid ground. Between the heated area they had just passed and the frozen area they were about to head into, not much grass was able to grow. She glanced over at Gengar, still sleeping and undisturbed from the cubone’s movement.

    Deciding to give him a bit more resting time, she wandered over to their lifeless firepit to check the coals. She hadn’t stirred it to properly make sure no fire would restart yet, and procrastinated this task even longer as she picked up one of the coals to test its warmth. With disappointment, she found that they had already naturally gone cold from the chill of the night. Nelvana had had the sudden idea to take some coals with her for extra warmth, but evidently that wouldn’t work now. Perhaps if they had located themselves where the wind was blocked more, then she would have been able to put this plan into action.

    Brushing out her hands and scattering out the remaining coals, Nelvana stood up again and turned back to her client, still sleeping. She wondered if she was actually quieter than she thought, or if Gengar was just a really deep sleeper. Regardless, she knew that they would have to continue on this journey soon. Risking having to still be in the Frosty Forest when night returned felt like sealing their defeat. They couldn’t waste this daylight any longer.

    “Gengar.”

    Nelvana stared at Gengar, waiting to see if he would respond. Nothing. This had been easier the previous night; what made this different this time?

    “Gengar, come on, we need to get up and going,” Nelvana insisted, louder this time.

    For a moment it looked like he was actually going to wake up, but he just rolled over instead. Curiosity ebbed at her at the idea of seeing if she would be able to get away with stealing the bag without him waking up, but she didn’t feel willing to waste that much time for curiosity’s sake.

    “Gengar I’m going to throw one of these coals at you if you don’t wake up.”

    A woman of her word, Nelvana waited a few moments to give Gengar a chance before she turned back around and picked up one of the coals that weren’t buried in the dirt. She even waited for a couple more seconds before following through and chucking what was basically stone at this point at the sleeping ghost-poison-type.

    Now, he shot awake, “w-wha- Hey! What was that for?” Gengar snapped.

    “I warned you,” Nelvana chuckled, “you wouldn’t wake up, and I’m afraid that you stealing my body heat when I try to shake you awake right before we go to possibly the coldest place on this continent is not how I wanted to start this morning.”

    “So, you threw a rock at me,” Gengar stated bluntly.

    “A coal, actually,” Nelvana corrected, before pausing. “Sorry though, I didn’t mean to hit that hard.”

    Gengar narrowed his eyes, but then relaxed again and exhaled instead of giving her another retort. One of his ears twitched irritably before he seemed to gather himself enough to speak again.

    “Fine, let’s eat and then head out then,” he sighed, pulling the bag onto his lap to search its contents.

    There was only the food for this morning meal and a bit extra to carry over just in case, which was fine with the knowledge that another storage statue would be coming up soon. If they didn’t have that to help them out, Nelvana would have made sure to pack more food to begin with.

    “Alright, so we’re going to have to keep our distance more now,” Nelvana announced as they began heading out on the trail again. “Otherwise, I will freeze here,” she gruffly admitted.

    Gengar nodded with an amount of understanding and respect that continued to surprise Nelvana. Once again choosing not to mention that confusion, she continued to lead them off into the Frosty Forest, allowing herself to go further ahead of her client than she normally would. She would check over her shoulder every once in awhile to make sure that she hadn’t accidentally lost him, but fortunately he was diligently following every step of the way.

    No snow fell from above even as it seemed to appear on the ground. In fact, the skies were clear with a nice sunny day. This would have made them feel better if it didn’t make the snow gleam dangerously into their eyes. Nelvana had to squint as she trekked forward; wishing that she had sunglasses with her instead. At least the shadows coming off the edge of her skull helmet’s eye sockets provided her with some slight assistance against this.

    Regardless, the snow only continued to mount up as they continued, each misstep sending one’s feet sinking deeper and deeper into the white flakes. There were no signs that anyone had travelled here lately; any previous footprints covered up in the most recent layer of snow. Nelvana was running on her memory of her last visit through here and her general sense of direction to make sure that she wasn’t putting them off path in any way.

    It was nearly two hours since they had departed that morning when they had arrived at the storage statue together. Nelvana shivered from the cold and had been able to see her own breath in front of her every since they spotted the first snowflakes on the ground; so, she was incredibly thankful when they made it to the iced chest. Gengar stood behind her at a respectable distance as she opened up the box, rummaging through it for proper winter supplies.

    Inside the chest were all the cold-weather clothing they owned, of which Nelvana swiftly donned the sweater and tail warmer she had used before, as well as the gloves that Alex had bought from Kecleon. Said gloves were made for those with one less finger than she had, but she with fine with putting two of her fingers into one of the finger holes of the glove for the extra warmth it would provide in the long run, over skipping out on the clothing entirely. She did also try using the hat that Alex had worn, but there was no real good way to fit it over the other headgear that she already wore; and considering the skull also covered her face from the wind among other things, she preferred to keep it on over the hat.

    As she pulled the sweater over her head and began readjusting her scarf, she felt the fabric of the mobile scarf tickle her neck. She couldn’t help but chuckle at this, and she pulled out the purple object. It was almost funny how she hadn’t needed it thus far, and continued forgetting about it even being with her. Would it have been possible to accidentally walk through a wall? Nelvana doubted it, but imagining how that would go down was an interesting thought.

    However, she felt like she should hold onto it in a more secure place. Nelvana couldn’t see it being needed for its intended function; but at least it was extra fabric, meaning it had the potential to provide extra warmth. She took off her left glove so that she could wrap the tattered scarf on its usual spot around her knuckles before tugging the glove back on her hand.

    Unfortunately, there was no other clothing that had been made for this sort of mission. Which, considering the suddenness of the entire thing, Nelvana couldn’t say that she was surprised. All of the winter clothes that were left were the other warmer and the hat, leaving Nelvana with an odd feeling of incompletion with them…

    “Hey, Gengar, will you need anything too?” Nelvana asked, glancing behind her. “There’s a hat and… tail warmer left if you’d like,” she offered.

    Gengar shook his head, “nah, I can take the cold pretty well, don’t worry about me. Do you have everything you need?”

    “Almost… just give me a few more moments, alright?” Nelvana responded, earning a quick “mhmm” as a reply.

    Turning back to look inside the chest, Nelvana made sure to bring out some more food, knowing that walking through deep snow took more effort than an ordinary hike though. She quickly passed these items over to Gengar with the bag before continuing to search the chest.

    When pushing aside some of what she deemed less important items, she found some stones carefully wrapped together with some cloth. It was already warm to the touch, so Nelvana opened it up to see what was inside; finding some hot stones collected up together. A smile grew on her face at the sight, and the thought that someone from home had put this together to help make this part of the journey just a bit easier. She had no idea how long these would last, but they would help for however long they stayed heated. For now, she would just hold them in her hands to help the blood circulating through them without just freezing.

    “I think that’s it!” Nelvana hummed, closing the box and looking over at the entrance of the dungeon before turning back to Gengar. “There were some heated stones in there too, so hopefully that will help out.”

    “Heated stones?” Gengar repeated, “from Keahi then,” he clarified.

    “Probably,” Nelvana agreed, “if it was him, I’m glad he decided to help keep us warm despite not being here himself,” she continued.

    “Wait, ‘him’? Isn’t Keahi a girl?” Gengar questioned, “did I miss something here?”

    “He’s genderfluid,” Nelvana corrected, “so, sometimes he is a girl, and sometimes neither a girl or boy, but right now he is a boy,” she briefly explained, “this most recent change was mentioned in part of the message from last night, so I guess you wouldn’t have known.”

    “Oh, uh, alright…” Gengar shrugged, his tone suggesting that he didn’t entirely understand, but that he was willing to accept it regardless. “I’ll keep that in mind, I guess.”

    Nelvana blinked, and then turned away again, “okay… we should get going though. It will do us no good to just stand around here,” she murmured.

    “Got it!” Gengar replied, waiting for Nelvana to enter the dungeon before continuing to follow. “I didn’t actually know that the badges could do that, the messaging thingy, before I noticed you guys using it.”

    “Really?” Nelvana quirked a brow. “How long were you in a rescue team, and you didn’t mess with all the functions of your badge?”

    Gengar scoffed, but it was almost friendly this time, “we didn’t use anything we didn’t need. What use is figuring out a messaging system when everyone is in the same place and you have a psychic-type anyway?”

    “But you’re interested in it now,” Nelvana pointed out.

    Gengar sputtered at this statement, but instead of getting frustrated or just flustered, he ended up laughing it off, “alright, you got me. None of us ever really learned how to use the badge in general.”

    “You’re… in a good mood today,” Nelvana finally couldn’t help but mention.

    “Maybe so!” Gengar shrugged again. “I mean, we are almost there!”

    “Well, hate to tell you this then, but it will still probably take another day to actually get to Ninetales,” Nelvana told him, “there is a fair bit of distance from this dungeon to the next.”

    “We are still getting closer than before, at least!” Gengar replied.

    Nelvana flinched as a furret scurried in from around a corner, but made quick work of the dungeon spawn by punching it with brick break. Shaking her head to herself, she continued to the next room and up the stairs, keeping an ear out for Gengar’s footsteps as he followed her.

    “So, you’re a pretty good, uh, fighter,” Gengar commented.

    “And…?”

    “That’s… cool!”

    Nelvana turned around to give Gengar a perplexed look, and found him smiling stiffly. If he was capable of sweating, she betted that he would be right now. While she once again bit back any comments about this, she couldn’t help but find this behavior really confusing for him. What was Gengar up to?

    “All that winter… stuff. You got that from Kangaskhan, right?” Gengar asked, deciding to speak up again.

    “Yeah,” Nelvana replied, “the clothes, at least,” she added.

    “That was really nice of her,” Gengar responded, “Kangaskhan is really nice…”

    “She is,” Nelvana agreed courtly.

    Gengar clicked his tongue, and without even looking Nelvana could tell that he was trying to think of a way to keep up this weak conversation. There was silence for about a minute, enough time to bring them to the next floor, but then Gengar spoke up again.

    “So, that skull of your’s. Does it ever get uncomfortable to wear?” Gengar asked, “I can’t imagine that you would have worn something like that all the time as a human.”

    Nelvana swallowed, “no… it’s actually nice to have. Fits nicely, adds extra protection…” she murmured.

    “Huh, that’s, uh, nice,” Gengar said.

    “Y-Yeah,” Nelvana replied, her teeth beginning to involuntarily chatter from the cold.

    There were no more attempts for conversation after that, Gengar letting out a sigh of defeat, and they just continued making their way through the dungeon.

    While it wasn’t apparent at first, their pace did not stay very consistent, only slowing as they went on. They had gotten through the early third of the dungeon in under even a half hour, and yet they hadn’t since arrived to the safe room on the ninth floor after an hour of continued exploring afterwards.

    Gengar only ended up realizing this when he zoned out and accidentally caught up to Nelvana despite not believing to have started walking faster. And while he had to admit to having a terrible sense of direction, he couldn’t help but wonder a few times if that was the same tree that they had already earlier on this floor…

    “Hey, Nel… er- Nelvana, you alright?” Gengar called ahead, surprising himself with the worry in his tone.

    “I’m f-fine!” Nelvana responded, another unmistakable chatter of her teeth in her reply.

    This answer did nothing to stop the dread building up in the pit of Gengar’s stomach. Why hadn’t he taken note of her shivering frame only intensifying before now? Should he stop her, or would movement help keep her warm? She had packed extra food; did that mean something? She hadn’t asked for anything yet… All he knew for sure is that whatever he did, he had to stay back or risk making things worse…

    He didn’t want to though. The just watching and doing nothing helpful felt all too familiar in a way, and how Nelvana was forced to drag herself through all this snow was weighing down on his consciousness in a way that felt less familiar and more uncomfortable.

    But he would have to. Have to hope everything would turn out alright without him interfering.

    At least… Nelvana was still fighting. While her reaction time wasn’t the best, and perhaps she wasn’t hitting them as hard as usual, any dungeon pokemon still would usually go down in a single hit, making them the least of the worries here. They could focus on just finding the stairs and moving forward instead.

    Finally, they managed to climb their way up to the safe floor. Here, they paused for a moment for some snacks, though like any other break, it was brief.

    Nelvana also passed the stones that had been given to her from Keahi over to Gengar to put in the bag. When he touched them, he found that they were only warm at best now; obviously useless to be held onto for warmth now, but could be saved for another time.

    Gengar couldn’t help but notice here that Nelvana had stopped shivering. He hoped that was a good sign; that she was warming up on her own. No other reasoning came to mind on why the shivering would have stopped. She seemed to be oddly tired now, but perhaps that was just stress…?

    He shook himself out of his thoughts as he spotted Nelvana beginning to head out of the room. Only a few more floors… and then to shelter, he assumed. Gengar would have to ask later. She had mentioned there being a cave that she had rested in the last time her team was there, so he could only assume that that was their next destination after they completed this dungeon. Hopefully it wasn’t too far away.

    They hadn’t gotten too far into the next floor before Gengar felt the presence of a psychic-type. He flinched at the suddenness of this; especially after having not had anyone speak to him through telepathy in a long time.

    ~*Calm yourself, it is just me,*~ Ceebee’s voice faintly sounded in Gengar’s mind.

    “Ceebee?” Gengar blurted aloud in confusion, glancing over at Nelvana, who oddly didn’t seem to have noticed anything, before taking in a breath and trying to respond through his thoughts. *Why are you speaking to me?*

    ~*…I unfortunately must warn you of something. I would have gone to Nelvana, but it would seem that she isn’t in the right mindspace for telepathy right now,*~ Ceebee told him.

    The aggression coming off this statement sent a shiver through Gengar, *we’re just almost through Frosty Forest! She’s cold, but it’s fine…* he responded, hoping to convince her that everything was okay despite that not entirely being the truth.

    ~*”It’s fine”? Gengar, Tsuki just sensed danger that we still haven’t been able to calm her down from that is related to your mission, and now I can sense that Nelvana has stage two hypothermia!*~ If it was possible to yell through telepathy, Ceebee was definitely doing that now. ~*It had better be fine soon, because we can’t be taking any sorts of risks with this. Look, I’ll let you keep going for now, but the moment that anything else goes wrong, you had better use Nelvana’s badge and get back to base, got it?*~ she ordered.

    *G-Got it.* Don’t ever try lying to a psychic-type, even in the slightest.

    ~*Good. I will check in later then. I would be keeping a constant eye on you two, but unfortunately it is not the most pleasant thing to have to use telepathy with a ghost-type. So, you are on your own for now. Until we speak again, goodbye Gengar.*~

    Gengar couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when the mythical’s presence faded from around him. Telepathy wasn’t the most comfortable for him, either. Now that he had his thoughts to himself again, he mulled over the message that had just been brought to him. Ceebee was definitely forceful about this, though despite her best efforts, he could tell that she only threatened him out of worry. Team Galaxy was really worried about them… well, probably more Nelvana than Gengar.

    Realizing that he had stopped walking, Gengar hurried to catch up with Nelvana, who thankfully hadn’t gone too far away in that short telepathic conversation. His ears drooped as he watched the ground-type continue pushing herself further through the snowy dungeon.

    “H-Hey, Nelvana? How many floors do we have left?” he called out.

    It took a few moments, but Nelvana did quietly respond, “three… eugh, maybe fouur?” she mumbled.

    “Okay, thanks!” Gengar replied, feigning cheerfulness at this answer.

    The next room presented the stairs, and they made their way up to the next floor again. This next floor opened up to a larger clearing, and in the distant end of the room, a metang floated with its back to the pair. Nelvana slowly lifted her head to look over at the dungeon spawn, and stiffly shifted her grip on her club. Gengar blinked at the sight of this larger pokemon, and his gaze shifted from his ally to this foe before he hesitantly stepped forward.

    “Um… Actually, I think I want to try fighting again, alright? You can hang back for this one,” he said.

    Nelvana gave Gengar a confused look with her eyes before accepting this decision, letting herself relax again tiredly as she took a clumsy step away. Seeing this, Gengar took in a deep breath and approached the metang. He had never had to fight something of this size… Regardless, he knew that he was going to have to try, despite his fears. Backing out now would not only be foolish, but likely the sort of risk Ceebee had warned him against.

    Gengar readied himself in a loose battle position, readying a fist to attack the metang. He knew his shadow punch move would be reliable, even having the type advantage here.

    However, he stopped himself right before he was about to charge the move. Nelvana… wasn’t comfortable with that move. Perhaps it was one of his better moves, but he also knew that if he used it now, it would just make this experience worse for her… and perhaps, she deserved better than that. He had other attacks to try.

    At this point, Gengar had stalled enough for the metang to notice him standing there, and the steel-psychic-type began its advance. He stiffened at the sight, trying to recall what other moves that he could actually use here. There’s… lick? No, that move is super awkward. What else…

    When it dawned on him, Gengar almost felt like slapping himself for not remembering sooner. He knew sucker punch, which was also super effective. Plus, this metang was predictably about to throw themself at him to attack, so this move would be a safe bet.

    He could feel the dark energy readying itself around his fist, only growing stronger as the metang dove towards him with their steel claws glinting in the sunlight. Gengar’s attack landed first, and he punched the larger pokemon, forcing them a few feet away.

    Unfortunately, any victory felt at this was short-lived, as the metang was not defeated and still ready to use their own attack. Gengar stiffened again, realizing he was now fully vulnerable to this dungeon spawn, without any more ideas of attacks to use. He curled into himself, turning away from his foe and awaiting the impact of the metal claw move.

    The loud clank of bone against steel was what greeted him instead. Gengar looked back up just in time to see Nelvana’s club plop into the snow, and the metang to fall over before disappearing in a flash of golden light.

    “O-Oh, hey! Thanks!” Gengar blurted out, turning around to look over at the cubone.

    Nelvana was crouched on the snow with her tail curled around herself and her right arm laying limply in front of her. She seemed to make the tired effort to smile in response, but made no other movements or noises. Gengar’s own smile fell slightly, and the thought crossed his mind that normally the bonemerang attack was supposed to return to the user.

    “Heh, that fight worked out alright at least…” Gengar continued, idly scratching his arm. “You know, we actually handled that pretty well, together! Er, well… Here, let me just grab your club and then we can continue. You said three more floors, right?”

    “Three or two left now…” Nelvana mumbled, nodding slowly.

    “Great, let’s hope it’s that second one,” Gengar replied.

    Reaching down, Gengar pulled the long bone weapon out of the snow and shook any remaining cold flakes off of it. He was about to just walk over to Nelvana and hand her her item, but then flinched back at his own foolishness; if he got too close, he would just end up absorbing her warmth.

    “Uh, I’ll just slide it over to you then…” he murmured, setting the club back onto the ground and pushing it towards its owner.

    Nelvana barely seemed to acknowledge this until the club bumped against her foot, causing her to blink and actually look at her. She shook her head before grabbing it and pulling herself back onto her feet, beginning to take the lead through the dungeon again.

    “You still holding up alright?” Gengar couldn’t help but ask her.

    “’mm jus’… really tired,” Nelvana admitted, “but it’s jus’ the cold, I know I hafta stay awake… come on.”

    Gengar let out a sigh; at least Nelvana knew how to take care of herself, even like this. If he could feel the cold as badly and was as tired as she probably was right now, he wouldn’t be surprised if he would have just given up at this point; clicked the button on the badge and teleported back to a home full of warmth and relaxation.

    There were only two more floors after that one, fortunately. Gengar made sure to keep his word and kept trying to battle the dungeon pokemon, leaving Nelvana to hang back and just throw in her club if it was ever needed as a last resort.

    With this strategy, they managed to pull through the rest of the dungeon, exiting out and into the open air and sky again. An icy gust of wind blew by them, but there was still no falling snow from the sky. It seemed that through the dungeon they had managed to climb all the way up to a large, rockier clearing, with the snow-drowned pine forest stretching all around them.

    Nelvana didn’t mention Articuno; but after Moltres, the expectation was still there for the other bird legendary to arrive before they would be able to properly get out of here. And sure enough, there was the distant flapping of wings that only grew louder as they approached and landed in front of the pair.

    “Greetings,” Articuno said, holding themself more composed than Moltres had carried themself. “What brings you back through my domain?”

    “We’re gonn’ to see Ninetaless again…” Nelvana responded, doing her best to keep any tired slurring of her words out of her speech. “Need t’ask ‘er about the curss again, with him,” she added, gesturing vaguely to Gengar.

    Articuno nodded, “I see… Your client here, Gengar, you are the same that spoke to Skarmory about the false rumors before, are you not?”

    Gengar flinched, “h-how did you…?”

    “Moltres decided to pay me a visit late last night to inform me of your arrival here,” Articuno told him, “but have no fear, I have no intentions of threatening you like they did. I trust that… Cubone will keep you in line if you do try anything; though I do hope that you are on your best behavior here.”

    Gengar could only nod as quickly as he could in response. He did not want to piss this bird off in any way, especially since he wasn’t certain if they would actually be able to beat Articuno in this scenario.

    “Before I allow you to continue, however…” Articuno began, looking back over at Nelvana. “How does Absol fare with your team?”

    “’suki is doing good,” Nelvana responded, managing a small smile. “S-Sorry shee wassn able t’ come.”

    “That is pleasing to hear,” Articuno hummed, “Absol is quite the honorable person,” they added, “I shall not keep you two here any longer. You may continue on your way now. Farewell, and best of luck to the both of you on your journey.”

    “Thankss,” Nelvana replied.

    Deciding not to waste anymore time here, Nelvana accepted this dismissal and began to sluggishly make her way down the pathway again. Gengar waited for her to get some distance as he had been throughout this area, but then hesitated.

    “Actually, hold on for a second!” he called, watching for his ally to stop walking before he turned back to Articuno. “H-Hey, could you, uh… do us a favor?”

    Articuno blinked, “what sort of favor are you requesting of me?”

    “W-Well… Look, this is sort of a time-important mission and we already have a lot more to go ahead of us,” Gengar stammered, trying to figure out how one was supposed to ask a legendary for help. “It’s… It’s really cold here too, it’s kind of taking its toll on us, so…”

    “Go on,” Articuno prompted, their feathers ruffling with amusement.

    “Would you mind giving us a lift to Ninetales?” Gengar finally asked, “you know… Nel’s team did kind of save the world, it would be-“

    “Cease your rambling,” Articuno ordered, causing Gengar to jump in surprise. “I will take you both to see Ninetales; no need to attempt to convince me with your stammers.”

    Gengar’s eyes widened, “r-really?”

    “Indeed,” Articuno assured him, nodding.

    “This is great! Thank you!” Gengar exclaimed; he had done something right! “Nel! Nelvana! Come back! I got us a ride!” he called out again.

    Some of Gengar’s excitement faded when he met Nelvana’s gaze again. Confusion flickered in her eyes for a moment, as if she hadn’t completely caught up to what he had told her, and there was almost a sense of being lost with her tiredness.

    However, she continued pushing onward, and dragged herself back up to the others again. Articuno crouched so that the two of them would be able to climb onto their back with more ease. Nelvana managed to clamber her way up, and Gengar followed suit, doing his best to sit as far away from her as possible.

    Articuno stood back up again, spreading out their wings and taking off into the sky again. Nelvana stared with lidded eyes at the land that they were now above. It was… peaceful up here. She distantly wondered if she had flown with someone like this before, but couldn’t recall anything right away and let the thought fade away in the back of her mind. This had been a good idea at least; they would be able to-

    “-vana? Come on, we’re here,” Gengar pleaded.

    Nelvana opened her eyes; though she couldn’t remember when she had closed them. They were here already? Hadn’t they just taken off…?

    She shook her head, sliding off the large bird’s back and landing her numb feet into the deep snow again. Articuno said something that she couldn’t pick up, and then took off again and disappeared into the clouded skies, leaving the pair alone again. Taking a moment to look around where they were now, Nelvana remarked how this place was quite unfamiliar to her for once on this journey.

    “Alright, this is the Frosty Peak…” Gengar muttered to himself, “how do we get in…? Oh, this… is the top,” he continued, his ears drooping with this sudden realization. “I told Articuno to bring us to the top, but we were supposed to go through a dungeon; now we’re just at the top of this peak and the top of the cave! Dammit! Why did his have to get messed up…”

    Gengar continued to talk to himself for a few more moments, and Nelvana let herself zone out of his rambles. This predicament was definitely worrying, and distantly she was aware that she probably should be stressed about it or just try to help think of a solution… but somehow, she couldn’t work it up in herself to care anymore.

    “…I guess I could go through the wall, or teleport in. But I would have to hold onto you to bring you with me,” Gengar continued, “maybe there is a back entrance somewhere?”

    “Through the wall…?” Nelvana murmured.

    “What? Oh, yeah, ‘cause I’m a ghost-type. But you aren’t, so that wouldn’t work…” Gengar replied.

    While Gengar continued pondering up a way to actually get into this cave, Nelvana slowly began fumbling with her left glove. It took a few seconds, but she managed to tug it off, and she looked over the purple fabric still wrapped around her knuckles.

    “Wait, is that my mobile scarf? Where did you-“

    Nelvana didn’t pay attention to the rest of Gengar’s questioning. Instead, she did her best to focus on the special item, and threw herself at the cave wall, fazing right through it to the other side.

    Distantly, she was aware of Gengar letting out a yelp as she disappeared indoors, but his voice was cut off the moment she made it inside. Not making much of an effort to land properly, Nelvana crumpled onto the stone ground, her club clattering on the floor not far away from her. It was immediately much warmer in here, almost trying to lull Nelvana to rest… But she forced herself up on her feet again, gently tapping on her arm to hopefully keep herself awake for just a bit longer.

    Gengar tumbled in not long afterwards, landing not any more gracefully than Nelvana had, despite probably trying more than she had for it. He grumbled to himself for a moment before glancing over at Nelvana, checking her condition with a quick look before turning his gaze away again to scan his surroundings.

    He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself, the spikes on his back nervously bristling. After a couple more seconds to gather his courage, he opened up his mouth to try speaking again.

    “N-Ninetales? We… We’re here!”

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which curses are spoken of Previous: In which those at home do what they can