#but i think i could pass off this hair as a messier version of his other hair... <- person who just really wants to use both

[aestheticanimegirl15]

Meeting their future S/O

Pairing: Kirishima, Bakugo, and Amajiki + Fem!Pregnant! Reader 

Summary: These poor babies don't know what happened when you suddenly fell out of a portal into their laps. They are even more confused when they see you sporting a baby bump.

TW:None (other than some slight cussing) just some cute fluff and confused teenage boys.

Omg I never knew people would like my brain dumps so much🥺 thank you!! I really hope you like this one I saw a similar theme on another page but I can't seem to find it so I can credit them😔.Please excuse bad grammar and spelling. Hope you like it!! Stay safe and beautiful 🌸🦋✌🏻

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Kirishima 🦈

🦈 This poor baby was so confused at what had just happened. He was sitting in the common room playing on his phone while Bakugo yelled at someone/something (he had gotten used to his yelling by now and tuned him out.). 

🦈 Next thing he knew a beautiful girl landed in his lap from a portal above him. She not only knocked the air out of him but also fought everyone's attention with her pretty noticeable baby bump. 

🦈 "What did you do!?" Denki shouted at him while helping you out of Kiri's lap.

🦈 "How am I supposed to know she fell out of the sky!" Kirishima yelled back. 

🦈 Everything got even more confusing when they saw the wedding ring on your left hand and your shirt (Which was oversized,black, and had a picture of a much older Kirishima on it,sporting an absolute MANE of red hair, with the words RED RIOT in bold under it.)

🦈 Iida had already started bombarding you with questions about your physical health and didn't notice you grabbing Kirishima's hand and squeezing it while also holding your bump. 

🦈 "Guys guys leave her alone already. Can't you see you're stressing her?" He said while helping you up and shooing everyone away as he took you to his dorm room. 

🦈 Once there he hears you giggle and mumble something about how "It's a little messier than what you told me."

🦈 Shark.exe has crashed. Excuse me what? Did he know you? He tried to rack his brain for an answer but never found one. 

🦈 "Um do you have your husband's number? Maybe we could call him and ask him to come pick you up." Kirishima says while grabbing his phone ready to dial whatever combination of numbers you gave him.

🦈 "You really don't know me yet do you?" You said lightly shifting your body so you could sit on his bed and get off your slightly aching feet. Kirishima shook his head slowly feeling like he did something wrong before another portal opened up and in walked (more like ran) a older and, in his mind, more manly version of him

🦈 Immediately you sprang up and hugged the male and letting out a rather loud “Kiri!!” The male hugged you back before asking if you were ok and placing his hands on your stomach.”I’m fine Kiri I just want to go home and see our son.”You said giggling before turning back to current Kirishima who looked almost ready to pass out.

🦈 “I’ll see you in the future but a little hint.” You leaned in and muttered in Kirishima’s ear “I’m the only one who calls you Eiji.” But before he could piece it together you were already gone.

🦈 P.S He did figure it out and gained the courage to ask you out and the first date went amazing save for the fact he tripped and fell. He totally embarrassed himself but you made it better by giving him a kiss at the end of the date. 

Bakugo💥

💥 Ok bear with me on this one, how this played out Bakugo was walking in the dorm building, after he had his ass handed to him in training, when he heard someone yelling, like YELLING, louder than even him. He walked to the kitchen ,where the noise was coming from, and saw a woman with a large pregnant stomach yelling at Denki who had taken away some of Bakugo’s personal stash of very spicy chips from her.

💥 At first he was mad that someone had actually found the secret stash, then he was amazed that someone was able to handle the amount of spice the chips had (he won’t admit it but even to him sometimes the chips were too hot to handle). 

💥 Denki sees Bakugo watch the situation before he runs behind Bakugo while screeching “Bro get your girlfriend!!” (poor Denki can't get a break) 

💥 “Hey don’t hide behind him you coward! Give me the chips back!” You yelled at the blonde, who by now had run away into the safety of his room, but soon the anger turned to happiness when you saw Bakugo. “Baby!” You squealed and (tried) to run to him but he held his arms out and backed away.

💥 “Woah, woah, woah who are you calling baby!?” Bakugo yelled and in turn made you stop and hold under your stomach.

💥 “You silly! Don’t you remember me?” You say suddenly going quiet for a second.

💥 “No!? Should I?” Bakugo now regretting what he said, I mean you were obviously heavily pregnant and you called him ‘ baby’. He was trying to rack his brain of any ‘’ extras’’ he had come into contact with but came up with nothing. Though he did find it strange that you kinda looked like a girl he liked to pick on from class 1-B. 

💥 Your mouth opened in a quiet realization “You don’t know me yet do you?” To which the male responded with a confused shake of his head. You didn’t seem upset about it though like he thought you would. 

💥 “Well then can you help me get to the couch please? My back is starting to hurt from standing for so long.” You said almost shyly glanging down at your large stomach before back up at Bakugo. He nodded silently and helped you over to the couch where you gladly sat down and grabbed his wrist lightly. “Can you please stay? I know you have no clue who I am but if you wanted to know I will tell you.” You said happily. 

💥 After he sat down (and gave you back the spicy chips that Denki stole) you told him everything, about how you met, how things are in the future, and much to his surprise how his future self proposed to you. (He thought his future self was both amazing and an annoying simp for you). You started to giggle at his surprised face when you finished the story and it turned into a full blown laugh when he looked at the engagement ring on your finger then to your large stomach. 

💥 Wait, that would mean he……....Pomeranian has died and  left the chat. 

💥 But before he could ask to make sure a portal opened up and an older and ahem…. More muscular version of him appeared and his future self almost sprinted to you and hugged you tightly (being careful of your stomach of course). Future him pulled away and looked over you for any sort of injuries and, when finding none, turned to his current self. 

💥 “Thanks for taking care of her for me.” His future self says “It might not seem like it now, especially after that beating you took today in training, but things are going to get better. Trust me.” His future self mummers quietly before picking you up bridal style and going back through the portal.

💥 The next time he sees you he doesn't pick on you or call you an extra much to the confusion of you and his classmates. But he knows it will make sense in the future and he holds onto what his future self said “Everything is going to be ok.”

Amajiki🐙

🐙 This poor shy boy didn’t even know what hit him when he walked into his dorm and saw a pregnant woman holding a child that oddly looked similar to him. Miro had grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the woman sitting on the couch holding the child protectively. 

🐙 Amajiki was even more confused when the small child jumped out of the girls arms and ran to him and HUGGED him yelling “Daddy!!” His face turned about 70 shades of red and he kept stumbling over his words still trying to comprehend the situation. 

🐙 “Lillia!” You said making the little girl look back at you. The little girl had rather long wavy hair that was the exact color of Amajiki’s just a little lighter and she had his dark violet eyes. She looked like an exact carbon copy of him. 

🐙 “Sorry mommy..”Lillia whispered and crawled back into the woman’s lap and hugged her large stomach. This poor boy was so confused. The little girl, who couldn’t have been any older than 4, called him daddy and the woman mommy and the last time he checked he was still (sadly) a virgin. 

🐙 “I’m sorry about that Amajiki . She doesn't understand that you have no clue who we are yet.”  You said looking down at the little girl as you rubbed her small back. Lillia had her cheek squished against your stomach whispering things to the unborn baby. 

🐙 Amajiki flushed red again and started to mess with his fingers, his anxiety starting to kick in a little. “B-but she c-called me daddy?” He mumbled out shyly making you smile lightly

🐙 “God you haven’t changed much since highschool.” You said rubbing your lower stomach. Amajiki flushes red again but manages to gain the courage to sit next to you. The little girl tries to crawl over to him but stops when she looks at your stern face. Amajiki notices this and says something about it being ok and Lillia quickly goes and crawls into his lap hiding her tiny face in his chest. 

🐙 At first he freezes up not being used to human contact much but calms down rather quickly(which is odd since he never really calms down at human contact). He looks over at you and tries to figure out who you are, he has never seen you around campus before and does not recall seeing you at the festival. 

🐙 You smiled as you watched him try to figure out who you were. You knew what he was doing since whenever he was thinking really hard his eyebrows would furrow together and he basically looked like he was pouting.

🐙  It was so adorable. 

🐙  Well it was until he realized if his future self actually WAS your boyfriend/fiance/husband whatever that meant he also……. Shy.boi.exe left the game

🐙 You were about to explain but a portal opened and a older version of Amajiki practically ran through and grabbed your face lightly checking you over before looking Lillia over who latched herself onto his leg 

🐙 "Baby we're fine." You said holding the side of his face letting him calm down. Older Amajiki looked over to his present self and smiled mumbling out a thank you before picking both Lillia and you up and disappearing through the portal. 

🐙 His current self did end up finding out who you were. You worked part time at a flower shop that he walked past a lot going to the park. (He ended up buying some flowers from you and you had slipped your number between some of the flowers.)

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Losing So Much Time | Part Eleven | S.R

Requests are Open.

A/N - part eleven of LSMT series. Find the series masterlist here.

CW: mild Reidams, post prison angst. Rough sex, dom! Spencer. Lots of tears. I didn't want to go too heavy into the prison arc because I've written about it before.

WC: 2.8K

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania - 2016

Cat Addams did not stay the furthest thing from Spencer’s mind for long.

It was barely a few months after he returned from the conference that he found himself in Mexico being arrested for drug possession and later charged with a murder he didn’t commit.

Three months he spent in a federal facility and with each passing day he shed a little more of the person he once was.

Everyday his skin grew tougher and by the time he was released he was by no means the man that went inside.

And it was all because of Cat fucking Addams.

Having to face her again was a situation Spencer hoped to never find himself in. At least that’s what he told himself. Deep down there was a part of him that thrived off getting to see her again.

When he’d wrapped his hands around her throat, feeling her thready pulse beneath his fingertips he’d wanted nothing more in the world than to fuck her stupid.

Maybe even while JJ watched.

“Oh Spencie I missed you. You feel so good.”

“Shut up. Just shut up.”

“Make me come Spencie. Please, it’s been so long.”

“I said shut up.”

“Spencer?” Emily frowned at him. “Earth to Doctor Reid?”

“Huh?” He snapped out of his thoughts and stared at his unit chief blankly. “What?”

“You zoned out for a minute kid.” Rossi patted him on the arm.

“He’s probably thinking about his woman.” Emily winked at him

There had been no end to the teasing since they found out about you.

Emily was half right. He was thinking about a woman. It just wasn’t you.

“Something like that.” He shrugged it off.

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Emily grinned.

Honestly, for the first time in years Spencer wasn’t looking forward to the interaction. He’d missed you, sure he had, but so much had changed this past year.

Prison had changed him. And honestly, the thought of being intimate was the furthest thing from his mind.

Except with Cat, which was really fucking with his head.

“Yeah hopefully.” He muttered.

He kind of just hoped he could avoid you this year. The Spencer he’d become in prison wasn’t the same man you were in love with. He didn’t want to burden you with this new version of himself.

You were too precious to him for that.

But of course, things never quite went to plan. Especially in Spencer Reid’s world.

***

You caught up with him later just as he was about to enter his hotel room. His hand was on the door handle, he was almost Scott free.

“Hey Doc!” You called you, and he couldn’t deny he still felt a shiver pass up his spine when he heard your voice.

He turned to face you and the smile you were giving him melted his heart.

Now he was face to face with you he wondered why he’d been trying to keep away.

“Feels like you’ve been avoiding me.” You chuckled lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I haven’t heard from you in months.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He sighed into your hold. “It’s been a crazy year.” That was an understatement.

“You look...different.” You stared into his eyes. They no longer sparkled how they used to. They were distant, haunted.

On top of that his hair was longer, messier and he looked as though he hadn’t shaved in a while.

You liked the more rugged look on him, but it came with a slight fear for his well-being.

“Like I said, crazy year.” He sighed a little. “You wanna come in?”

“Ok.” You let go of him and stepped back so he could open the door to his room.

You followed him inside and closed the door behind you.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not even a little bit.” He stood staring out of the window with his back to you.

He’d put on a little weight you noticed now, his shirt hugging him a little tighter than it used to. His whole body language had changed. You could see the physical weight bearing down on him.

You came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He sighed into your touch.

“I love you.” He whispered, his voice shaky.

“I love you too.” You gave him a small squeeze.

Spencer wiped the tear that had fallen from his eye before you noticed it.

In one swift move he spun you around, pushing you back against the floor to ceiling windows, grabbed hold of your face and kissed you harder than he’d ever kissed you before.

You gasped, shocked by the sudden surge of dominance. It allowed his tongue to plunge into your mouth, deep and desperate.

His hands found the backs of your thighs and he lifted you into his arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist and continued to kiss you as he carried you to the bed.

He practically threw you to the mattress and you looked up at him wide eyed.

He was unbuttoning his shirt and was free of it in an instant. He had collected a little weight around his tummy and hips which you thought looked sexy as hell.

His arms looked stronger, as did his chest. You could still see the faint remains of the man you remembered but for all intents and purposes he was a changed man.

Once his shirt was off he was already working on the buttons of his pants.

“Whoa Doc, where’s the fire?” You laughed, trying to keep up as you frantically worked on getting your own clothes off.

“I need you and I need you now. I hope you’re wet for me.” His voice was a low growl and if you hadn’t been wet before, you certainly were now.

In no time at all he was naked, already rock hard. You were a few seconds behind getting out of your clothes but as soon as you were bare, Spencer was climbing on the bed.

He took hold of your shoulders, flipping you in one quick movement so you were on your front on the bed.

He grasped your hips roughly, pulling you on all fours. His hard dick found its way between your legs and with no warning, he plunged into you hard.

“Fuck Spencer!” You groaned, half in pleasure, half in pain. “Jeez what has gotten into you?”

He thrust hard into you, keeping one hand on your hip. The other found your hair and balled it in his fist, yanking your head back.

“Shut up. Just stop talking.” He spat.

The aggression in his tone startled you. You’d never heard him talk like that.

It simultaneously scared you and turned you on.

But you trusted Spencer, mind, body and soul so you knew there was no need to be scared. You just wanted to relish in his new found dominance.

He yanked your hair as he thrust harder and harder, you knew you would have trouble walking afterwards.

He was grunting and panting and swearing under his breath. He tugged your hair and sank his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck.

“Jesus Christ.” You moaned. “Fucking hell.”

“I said…” he thrust harder. “Be quiet.”

He thrust even harder. Moved faster. The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room.

You arched your back to allow him deeper.

You both moaned and groaned at the force at which he was slamming into you. Each time he would withdraw almost all the way and then slam back into you with vigour.

“Are you close?” He asked.

He didn’t sound his usual caring self. He always wanted to make sure you came first but he didn’t sound much like he cared right now.

“Y-yes.” You stuttered unsure if you were actually allowed to speak this time.

He let go of your hair, allowing your head to fall forward and grasped your other hip. This allowed him to steady himself and pound you harder as he brought you both to your orgasms.

He came with a stifled whine, almost sounding like sob.

He withdrew from you in an instant making you groan.

You flopped over onto your back and looked up at Spencer who had tears streaming down his face at an alarming rate.

“Oh my gosh Spence, what’s wrong?”

“I-I…you should go.” He choked on his words and suddenly he threw himself off the bed and sprinted to the bathroom, still fully nude.

Before you even had a chance to sit up you heard the bathroom door slam shut and the click of the lock.

What was happening?

Your head was spinning. You pushed yourself up and padded over to the bathroom door trying to ignore the slight pain between your legs.

“Spencer?” You spoke through the door. “What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

“Just leave Y/N. I want to be alone.” He sobbed.

He was sitting on the bathroom floor, back against the door with his knees drawn up to his chin.

“I’m not leaving while you're like this Spence. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I want to be alone.”

“Too bad.” You sat on the floor, resting your head against the door that separated you. “I’m going to sit here until you’re ready to talk to me. Whatever you’re going through Spence, you aren’t in it alone.”

He didn’t respond. Instead he sobbed loudly. You wish you could hold him and stroke back his hair and tell him everything would be ok.

But the damn door was in your way.

So you sat on the floor listening to him cry, feeling your heart shattering in your chest.

You weren’t sure exactly how much time had passed but it had to be at least an hour before his sobs subsided and you were left listening to his heavy breathing.

“It’s been a really rough year.”

It startled you a little when he finally spoke. You didn’t dare reply because you didn’t want to scare him off before he told you what was troubling you. But he knew you were still there.

“I spent three months in a federal prison. I was framed for murder. I only got out a few months ago, I’ve literally just been reinstated. I think Emily only brought me this year to try and bring some normality back to my life.”

Prison. Murder. Reinstated.

His words swarmed your brain and you couldn’t comprehend them.

You’d known Spencer for eleven years and this just didn’t make any sense.

“You...I...I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you remember me telling you about the hit woman...Cat?”

Your blood ran cold. How could you forget?

“Y-yes.”

“It was her who framed me, along with a partner on the outside. She pulled me back into her sick twisted games.” He sniffed. “She kidnapped my mom. She made me believe I’d been raped and she’d impregnated herself with my...you know.”

“Did she pretend to be you?”

“Trust me I know where I stand on the Spencer Reid hot or not scale. I told her to pretend to be Maeve. Maeve Donovan the love of your life.”

“Clearly you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Maeve was not the love of my life.”

“Y/N? Please, the two of you never stood a chance.”

“Oh my god.” You gasped, struggling to take it all in. “Please open the door.”

He sighed loudly and you thought he might argue but then you heard some shuffling inside the bathroom and the lock turn.

You stood and opened the door to find Spencer now leant against the bathtub. He still had his knees to his chest trying to cover his naked body.

You sat next to him, still fully nude yourself. He’d stopped crying but he had tear stains on his cheeks.

“I’m not the same man I was last year.” He muttered. “I’m not the same man you fell in love with.”

“Spencer,” you cupped his face and turned him to look at you. “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight for the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day’s most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if god choose, I shall but love thee better after death.”

He stared into your eyes the whole time you recited Sonnet 43 in its entirety. You stroked his cheek, brushing the tear stains away with your thumb.

“My love for you knows no bounds Spencer. When I fell in love with you, I fell entirely. I didn’t just fall in love with your present, I fell in love with your past too. And falling in love with someone means falling in love with their future we well, whatever that may hold. I am in love with every version of you Spencer, even the ones that haven’t materialized yet.”

His eyes welled with tears at your words.

He’d never had someone love him the way you did. Unconditional, that’s what it was. You loved him unconditionally and he felt the same. But right now he was struggling to believe anyone could love this incarnation of himself.

“You don’t know what I’ve seen Y/N.” He swallowed. “The things that they did to me in prison…I don’t think I’ll ever come back from that.”

“Time to go Spencer.”

“Give me some of that “don’t touch the skinny white guy” pixie dust you got sprinkled on you.”

“I helped you because I like you. You’re interesting to me. But if you keep this up, keep thinking the normal rules apply in here, then I cannot help you. And that would be a shame ‘cause I think you’re the only innocent man in here.”

“You ever hear the term: heteroflexible?”

“How did you stay sane? A brain like yours needs stimulation in such a...gray place.”

“From the moment I arrested you, you watched and waited for the right time to take your revenge. When you learned I was going to Mexico, you took it. You and Lindsey framed me for murder so I’d be put in prison and treated like a criminal, and then you kidnapped my mother so I would know how it feels to have a parent manipulated, because you want to prove that you and I are the same.”

“I’m really scared this is who I am now.”

“I don’t want you to be dragged into this Y/N. It isn’t fair to involve you in this. This is my burden.”

“No.” You shook your head holding his face in both your hands. “No Spencer, it is not your burden. It’s ours. I love you and I want to help you through this in any way I can.”

You stood up and held your hands out for Spencer. He took hold of them and you helped him to his feet.

You kept hold of his hand and led him back to the bed where you helped him climb under the covers. You crawled in behind him, pressing your chest to his back and wrapping your arm around him.

He nuzzled back into you, as close as physically possible. You placed gentle kisses on the back of his head.

“Tomorrow we’re going to take a sick day. We’re going to spend all day together ok? Just you and me.” How it always should be.

Spencer didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Ok.” He entwined his fingers with yours and let out a sigh. “I love you so much, you know that right?”

“I know Spence. I know.”

You weren’t sure you were going to be able to bring Spencer back from the brink. You would try, of course you would. But you couldn’t imagine what prison must have been like for him.

He was too sweet, too gentle to come out of that unchanged. He would have had to grow a tough skin really fast in order to survive.

But once you grew that skin, was there a way to shed it? You didn’t think so.

You just had to try and help Spencer navigate through this the best you could from over two thousand miles away.

If it hadn't been for your mother, you would have gone back to DC with him and never looked back. He needed you, but so did your mom.

This was so unfair. Why couldn’t things just be easy?

Why could love not just be enough?

————————————————————

Taglist (find my taglist form here if you want to be added) -

All ships & genres -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

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@aperrywilliams

@viagracex

@nklnnd

@criminalmindzjunkie

@thatsonezesty13

@cielo1984

@loveheathens

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@rainsong01

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@tv-obsxssed

[rose-colored-amy]

So, this is a continuation to my extremely short one-shot Last Moments, Last Regrets, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Regardless, I'll leave the link of that one in here:

Also, thanks to @coeurhh for suggesting I write a second part. You're a sweetheart 🥰

She made a lovely fanart/gif, which I'm also sharing, of course:

Prompt: AU. Sakura's death goes unnoticed to everyone but the squad she protected with her life and Tsunade. Team Kakashi doesn't find out until the very end, when Naruto and Sasuke have already had their fight, and there's nothing to do about it but mourn the absence.

Warning: Mild Sasusaku and lots of angst. Team 7 sort-of-fluff (?)

—Blue Bird, Let Go—

"Hey, bastard... I know they really let us down, the village, I mean."

"Aa... "

"But I really think it's not all that bad. When we were I team, I knew you understood. It felt like having a brother, believe it."

They were watching their lives go by, shadows of unknown faces passing by them, not noticing their pain, or not caring whatsoever. Their backs were touching, but it was all cold and bleak; a bad memory. A clan slaughtered, a demon sealed. Two lonely boys wallowing in their own sadness.

"Well, even if I don't make it, I'm glad it was you, bastard—"

"Shut up, idiot." His voice sounded strained, even for his standards, but Sasuke was so tired he couldn't even bring himself to care.

"We're really dying, ah? Wanna say something? I do have things to say, 'cause there's no way I'm dying—"

"In silence?" Sasuke interrupted, but Naruto payed him no mind.

"Without telling you how much of an asshole you've been! I couldn't even keep my promise to Sakura-chan! She's gonna be so damn mad when she finds out, I'm sure she'll drag me back to life just to cave my face in—" He was rambling at that point, but it was just so comforting and normal to Sasuke that he didn't even acknowledge it anymore.

"Hn. Sakura... She..."

"She still loves you, asshole. I don't have any idea how it can be possible but—"

"I'm sorry..." It sounded rushed, but Naruto heard it perfectly, and in the darkness of their shared consciousness, Sasuke heard a resigned sigh.

"Well, it's not that bad. I cannot imagine dying beside anyone but you, bastard."

"Idiot..." He made a pause. "Me neither."

"You're both a pair of idiots!"

Suddenly, the unreadable mass of unrecognizable faces around them cleared, and one figure stood in front of them, pink eyebrows frowned in annoyance. Though this version of Sakura looked familiar, it was one none of the boys had seen in a long time. Genin, long-haired, Sakura was glaring at them, arms crossed.

"Sakura-chan! What are you doing in here?!"

Her eyes softened. "What, so I'm supposed to let you two die, after everything? No way in hell!"

"Sakura..."

"You!" She pointed at Sasuke, who flinched slightly at her rudeness. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I don't care. Lighten up and start being your moody self. We love you just like that! Don't act so repented and shit! If you're sorry stop looking like a lost puppy and start doing something about it, you asshole!" Her voice was raising with madness and it was slightly off putting to see what used to be a stuttering lovestruck preteen talking to him like that.

Naruto snorted at that, obviously delighted for not being at the receiving end of her wrath for once. It was short-lived, however.

"And you!" She pointed at the blonde; then crossed her arms. He jumped back in fright. "What is this? How dare you even consider dying after you promised to be the best goddamned Hokage in history?! Here I am, rooting for you, while you lay around like a lazy pig with your edgy bro there. You should be ashamed of yourself!" She scoffed.

Naruto's mouth was so wide open he could have caught a fly. "Lazy pig? Are you kidding?!"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, half amused, half annoyed. "Edgy?"

Suddenly, the edges of their vision began to blurr, like a genjutsu being unravelled. "Ah, someone came to help you at last." Sakura seemed relieved. Strangely so.

"Hey, Sakura-chan! You know what? You're right. I'll be the best damn Hokage ever, believe it! Just you watch!" He threw a punch to the air.

Seemingly placated and pleased with his answer, she nodded. "I know so." Then, she turned to her other teammate, who was concentrating solely on her face, mismatched eyes softened as they'll ever be. "And you'll make sure he doesn't mess up, right?"

They shared a long silence. There was something strange about Sakura aside her appearance. He could tell. "Hn. I will..."

"Hey! I don't need him watching over—"

"Sure you don't." He countered sarcastically.

"Also..." They turned to her again. "I'm sorry."

"Wha—" Naruto stuttered. "What the hell would you be sorry for, Sakura-chan?! If anything, it's the bastard here who should be apologizing to you!"

"Sakura..." Sasuke seemed to be searching for the right words, but she couldn't let them go without them listening to her. To what she needed them to know. There wasn't much time left after all.

"I'm sorry, because I wasn't what you needed..." She closed her eyes, her pretty minty orbs. Her appearance suddenly shifted, before then now standing her true self, still dressed in the standard shinobi uniform of the alliance. Her forehead protector lost to whoever knows where. "And thank you. You both made me stronger. You made me appreciate what I had. And I'll always, always love you. Our moments together like team seven... I'll treasure them for all eternity."

"Sakura-chan..."

"I know Konoha wasn't the best to you both, but don't forget the good... The wholesome moments. It's all that matters in the end... Our bonds, the bonds you managed to forge with sweat and blood... The world we live in, the world that gave me the chance to meet you. To me, that's to be cherished. Forever."

The white light started overwhelming the rest. Even Sakura's features started dissapearing.

"Live. Just live." For that, she specifically stared at Sasuke, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And thank you."

Sasuke started racing towards her, hand stretched, a forebonding understanding shaking his bones. "Sakura!"

And then, they both lost consciousness.

When they woke up, aside from feeling like shit, the first thing that crossed their minds what the finality of Sakura's words. Tsunade was beside them, patching them up, with Kakashi beside her, silently watching over them.

"About time, brats! What were you think—"

"Baa-san." Naruto interrupted her, his voice the most serious she had heard him until then.

"Where's Sakura?" Sasuke finished for him, his eyes icy and detached, trying to keep his worry at bay.

But she didn't need to answer. Her chakra flow hesitated, spiking with sorrow. Her eyes glistening with unbearable loss. Kakashi, at her side, stared, eyes widened in comprehension.

She was gone by a long shot.

And they were just finding out.

...

Everybody had different ways of dealing with loss. Naruto helped rebuild the village along with everyone else, but he skipped his usual meals, his ramen left forgotten in his kitchen counter. His movements when sparring were sloppy at best, not just because of the new prosthetic limb, but also because his mind was clearly somewhere else. Usually, Shikamaru would drag him out his makeship house, like he had done when Jiraija was gone for good. Sometimes, he would bring Ino with him, who was suspiciously skinny and messier than normal. No makeup covering the dark circles under her eyes.

Kakashi spent more than usual at the memorial stone every day, tracing the newly marked name of the girl who once remained him of Rin but that had come to claim a place for herself in his heart. Also, he took more missions than it was allowed in a month, going so far as to pick up his ANBU mask again, which caused an altercation with Tsunade, who hadn't been sober in a long time and had been hoping to hand the Hokage seat to him.

Sai avoided the color pink for a long time.

Sasuke... Well, he dealed with loss the same as everyone else... Longing for the missing person to be there, itching to have the opportunity to say what he couldn't at the time. Wanting to be alone whenever they would reach for him... And he built a tomb for her in hopes to find some closure. Not that official, because there wasn't a body to bury, and it had no name, but it was enough for him. He would bring with him camellias every day, buying them at the Yamanaka's, where Ino would always glance at him in silent understanding.

One morning, on his way to her tomb, he spotted a young shinobi leaving a white lilly for her. When he came by, the child spoke without a care, like they were acquaintances. "This is Sakura-san's, right?"

"Hn." It wasn't really an answer, but the child seemed to understand anyway.

"You know? Mama and big sister are also buried in these grounds... I always talk to them and tell them about my day and stuff I want them to know!" He turned to the Uchiha, a smirk on his cherubic face. "I'm sure she would appreciate it as well." And just like that, he left without another word.

Sasuke sat on the ground, just in front of the stone, mismatched eyes half lidded. Sensing no one in the vicinity, he exaled a shaky breath, and his dam opened up, the words longing to be said broke the silence he had been wrapping around himself since he knew of her death:

"I miss you... I've been missing you since I first left."

[bookandcranny]

Beatrice - Chapter Five

She sucked on her lower lip and it tasted sweet. Bittersweet really, but any amount of sweetness was good enough for her.

Sprinting up the staircase two at a time, Gianna couldn’t remember why the climb had ever been an obstacle. She burst into her apartment and out of it again, through the window, onto the fire escape. Before she could think to be afraid, she leaped.

If she’d faltered, if she’d slowed for a second before making that jump, she would’ve hit the ledge and, best case scenario, clawed her way up to safety with a shattered pelvis. The worst case scenario was a lot messier and, she decided, not worth thinking about at the moment. 

The important thing was she had made it, barely, and miraculously unbroken too. Unbroken because “unharmed” would’ve been too generous a word for it. She landed badly, twisting her ankle and spilling forward onto hands and knees. It was only thanks to the cradle of some overgrown greenery that she hadn’t cracked her skull open on the fountain while on her belly blindly grasping for leverage.

Maybe it was the headrush of having survived her nigh-suicidal recklessness, but the combined scents of the garden were making her dizzy. The exotic flowers’ natural perfume that had been pleasant at a distance now took on a noxious quality. The air seemed to be choking her. How did Beatrice stand it, she wondered.

Feeling a strange twinge she looked down at her scraped palms and sucked in a sharp breath. The cuts themselves were barely deep enough to draw blood, but beneath the tissue she was bubbling, boiling. She tore her eyes away and blinked hard to dispel the vision. 

Am I awake? Am I dreaming again? Did I miss the ledge?

Her mind screamed at her.

It’s something in the air. It’s something about these damn plants. An infection? An allergy? No, can’t think about it now. There’s no time. Look away, deal with it later.

Thankfully the sliding door was unlocked. Most people don’t expect intruders at five stories up. It opened with a click and Gianna tensed, withholding herself against the urge to rush in, metaphorical guns blazing. She stood there in the doorway and listened for sounds of distress, but it was eerily silent. The luxury apartment was as serene and sterile as she remembered it.

“Bea?” she whispered as she stepped inside. “Beatrice?”

No response. Her own dragging footsteps were loud in the emptiness, scraping along the tile like a murmuring: hush, hush. 

Gianna rounded a corner into the dining room and there she found her, and the mad doctor too. Beatrice was sitting at the table in a white dress with a gauzy quality to it that reminded her, sickly, of a wedding dress. Dr Rappaccini came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder before at length turning his sunken eyes towards the uninvited guest.

When he spoke, his voice sounded thick as if speaking around a swelling. “After all these years, you think I don’t recognize the taste of one of my own formulas? I’ve been doing this since before you were born, children.”

“It was only medicine, Father,” Beatrice insisted, looking up at him. “To help you sleep.”

“A long sleep indeed,” he growled. Gianna had no rightful reason to flinch away from the fury of an old, sick, and at least partially drugged old man, she reasoned. There was nothing of him to be so afraid of. But she did, and she was, and deep down she always had been, since the moment she saw him. There was something wrong with him, something she couldn’t put a name to, although if she tried the word “evil” might make an appearance. 

It had been a long time since Gianna had considered herself one among the faithful, the kind of person to buy into such archaic concepts as pure good vs pure evil. She never quite believed in a soul that could be broken down into quantifiable measurements— a half cup of goodness, an even ounce of vice. She couldn’t say from what recipe a man like Dr Rappaccini was formed, but what she saw before her now repulsed her. The layers of him peeled off like old paint and underneath were all the years and all the people who ever imposed their will on her. It didn’t make her feel righteous, it made her feel small and scared. She didn’t want to touch him. She didn’t want to catch what he had.

“This really has gone too far.” He spoke not to her but to Beatrice again. Although he kept her penned within his periphery, Gianna was an insect to him. “What did you think would happen? That you’d run away together? Go off into the sunset and live happily forever after like those books you read? You know better. This is only a passing fancy. She’ll die, and you’ll find another.”

Then he touched her cheek, almost tenderly. For a moment he almost looked like the father he was, or at least pretended to be. Gianna saw him and a younger Beatrice: teaching her, dressing her, holding her, bringing her to life only to take it away.

“Let go of her, she’s coming with me.”

Dr Rappaccini sneered. “Oh by all means. Who am I to get in the way of my daughter’s happiness? But if you two are going to insist on keeping up this charade, I think it’s only right I let you know what you’re getting into.”

The young woman stiffened. “Father, please don’t.”

“Have you been feeling ill lately, Ms Alexander? Been noticing some certain sudden changes?”

Gianna instinctively closed her fists and felt her bloodied palms sting.

“Now now, no need to be embarrassed. I’m a doctor you know.” He wheezed a little laugh to himself. “Have you been having trouble sleeping? Peculiar dreams? Maybe even during the day you find yourself feeling disoriented, seeing things. Do you find yourself feeling breathless or dizzy when you take in the city air? If not, you will. The medicine my daughter so kindly shared with you will be wearing off soon.”

Startled, she turned a questioning glance to Beatrice, but the other woman wouldn’t look at her. She’d told her the tea was medicinal, but it had never occurred to Gianna that she might be more familiar with the ailment than she let on. 

“It’ll only get worse from here, you know. Look at me,” he coughed. “Like the late great Madame Curie, my passions took their toll on me in the end. Though not before affording me a sturdy tolerance for most known and unknown poisons, I’ll have you know. That’s over fifty years of gradual exposure for you. Ah, but you didn’t come here to listen to me talk about work. 

“I’ll get to the point. You can treat the symptoms, but there’s no cure, no release from her poison. Even as we speak it’s tainting your healthy young blood, devouring you from the inside out. If I act fast, you may still live to a ripe old age. You might not even have any lasting side effects, lucky thing! But all this is if I give you the antitoxin, and if you don’t continue to willfully expose yourself to the source.”

“The source? You mean…?”

“Yes! My sweet Beatrice.” He petted her hair with the back of his fingers. “Lovely, isn’t she? Everything I grow… so very lovely. Don’t worry, I’d never do a thing to harm her. Can she say the same about you?”

“Don’t listen to him!” Beatrice stood up suddenly, surprising both Gianna and Rappaccini himself. “I never wanted to hurt you! I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

“But you can’t help it,” said the doctor. “It’s in your nature. It’s in your scent, the touch of your skin. Imagine what she could do with a kiss, Ms Alexander! Oh I almost want to see it. I’m sure it would produce some valuable data. But I’m not the cruel monster you make me out to be. That’s why I tried to stop you, even though my daughter begged me not to spill her secret. I tried to make you understand. 

“She can’t be released upon the world. Maybe in a few generations we’ll have a version that can control her own potency, but not yet. Not you, Beatrice.”

The poison-blooded woman spun on her creator. “Why did you make me! Why did you make me like this! Why bring me into the world at all if I can’t be a part of it! What is the point of being alive if I can’t touch another living thing without hurting them!”

Tears rolled freely down her cheeks, hot and angry. Gianna instinctively reached out to comfort her.

“No, stay away!” she screamed.

Dr Rappaccini took her into his arms. Her tears soaked through the shoulder of his ill-fitting coat and raised his flesh with welts, yet he didn’t flinch. Arrogant gray eyes locked with Gianna’s and the message was clear. No matter how much she loved her, Beatrice belonged to him. She would rather choose an empty life under the heel of a man who could never truly care for her over the risk that she might further harm the one person who did.

Then, a curious thing happened. It started with a gentle rumbling that gradually grew in intensity like the beginnings of an earthquake. Then there was the smell. Beatrice always had a slightly floral scent to her that Gianna had assumed was perfume, but now, like in the garden, it was so overpowering that it seared the nose and throat and muddled the senses. Rappaccini noticed as well and turned to his daughter with a delirious look on his face.

“Girl, what have you done?”

The woman lifted her head. Veins like dark tendrils bulged beneath her skin, wispy strands of violet encroaching at the corners of her eyes like ink in water. A noxious venom bubbled up and spilled over her lower lip. The doctor staggered backwards. Gianna might have followed his lead if she were in her right mind, but as it was she was stricken, mesmerized by her. Even through the confusion and the terror, she wanted to reach for her. Her blood sang out to embrace her.

There was a sound of shattering glass from the terrace and the garden rushed in, spilling over and crashing like a tidal wave, flooding every room it entered with rapidly growing roots and bright green vines. The onslaught of green grew and morphed and stretched and with every pulse of its new buds and branches there was a noise like a muffled human scream.

The slithering stems ignored Gianna, skated right past Beatrice unbothered, and latched onto the form of Dr Rappaccini, pulling taught as they snared him.

“Beatrice!” he cried out, but not in horror or in rage. Oddly enough, though he was alarmed, when he looked into the face of his creation, the creation who would destroy him, his expression was one of absolute wonder.

“How are you doing this, Beatrice? How?”

She looked at him, with her eyes still clouded and the nectar of her ire dripping freely from her lips, and she said, “No.”

Only then did true panic set in for the scientist, for he understood exactly what that no meant. 

Vines began to encircle his torso and pour into his open mouth, choking him, soaking up the living wet warmth of him and pouring in their poisons. They dragged his limp body, barely recognizable now, back out into the garden. They raked him over the shattered remains of the glass door and took him into their soil until no bit of him could be seen under the still earth.

The renowned genius Dr Giacoma Rappaccini died without ever knowing the whole truth of what he had created, without even the parting gift of that understanding, that knowledge he had so fervently sought after. That right had been revoked from him. Even so it could be said that Dr Rappaccini died with some sense of satisfaction. After all, what parent isn’t joyed to see their child finally surpass them?

As the flood of plants retreated so too did the murky discoloration of Beatrice’s eyes and skin, leaving only a faint sheen of laboured sweat. Unthinking Gianna moved towards her but her legs buckled halfway there. Her eyes rolled back and for a moment all the universe narrowed to the feeling of hands carefully lowering her to the floor.

“Oh God, Gianna.”

She blinked and saw Beatrice kneeling over her, felt the warmth of her breath. It occurred to her suddenly that she could very well be about to die. She wasn’t in any pain though. Even the ache from her twisted ankle was gone. If anything, she felt extraordinarily well, for a paralyzed person. The only improvement, she thought foggily, would be if she were able to just move. If she could move it all, if she could speak, then there would be nothing that she couldn’t say, not ever again.

“Gianna, I’m so sorry.” She leaned her head against Gianna’s breastbone and sobbed. “I love you. I love you.”

Gianna’s heart fluttered. In fact, it pounded so hard and so loud that Beatrice head shot back up with surprise. She sniffled and blinked back tears.

“Gi-Gianna? Are you still in there?”

Obviously Gianna couldn’t respond, but she searched her face and must have found an answer in it regardless. 

“If you can hear me… I’m going to try something. It- it might… I don’t want to hurt you. That’s what I was trying to… I don’t, I’ve never been able to control it before, but every time you looked at me I just, just tried to focus on that, on how much I wanted…” She swallowed thickly. “So I’m going to try one more time. One more time, okay? I’ll think about how much I love you, and you think about… well you just think about staying alive and maybe… maybe this time. Maybe it’ll turn out alright this time.”

With that, she closed her eyes and kissed her. It was everything Gianna had dreamed and nothing she had expected. Clumsy and inexperienced, gentle and sweet, and something sort of tingly she had a feeling wasn’t entirely due to attraction or apprehension or any mix thereof. She felt her eyes fall closed and her own lips part slightly to let her in. Too late she registered the sensation of something liquid pooling on her tongue, falling down her throat. She choked, briefly, then reflex kicked in and she swallowed. 

“Gianna?” Beatrice asked nervously.

She pushed herself up on her elbows. “You too,” she croaked. “I love you too. I would’ve told you sooner if I knew.”

“If you knew what?”

“That, that you needed to hear it. Someone should’ve told you sooner. Someone should’ve told you a long time ago how lovable you are.”

As she recovered Gianna touched a finger to her lips and it came away sticky. She sucked on her lower lip and it tasted sweet. Bittersweet really, but any amount of sweetness was good enough for her.

“Not to be the nosy overbearing girlfriend or anything, but what just happened exactly?”

Beatrice sat back on her heels. “I’m not really sure where to start. You’ve probably already figured out that I’m… not entirely human.”

“And all that talk about you being a hybrid and like a poisonous plant wasn’t entirely metaphorical, huh?”

She smiled sadly. “Father was always open with me about what I am. I wanted to be open with you too but part of me was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. The other part was afraid you would.”

A fair assumption. Even having witnessed the ultimate show of her power firsthand, she still had a hard time internalizing it.

The conflict must have been apparent on her face; Beatrice pulled away from her, folding her hands over her lap.

“I’m dangerous, I know. Nothing my father said was a lie, but there were things even he didn’t know about me. When you told me we could run away… you made it sound so simple, you know? It really made me believe I could do it. I really thought I could change. I thought I could be more like you, but instead I think I made you more like me.”

Gianna looked down at her hands. The cuts from earlier had sealed themselves closed, not so much as a scratch remaining.

“I’ve never tried to do that before. I don’t know exactly how it’ll affect you, or how much. You might live to be two hundred now. Or you might start to kill everything you touch.” A noise escaped her that was half laugh, half sob. “But I do know what would’ve happened if I left you like that, in that in-between state. Maybe it’s selfish of me. Father said it was. He told me if I cared for you at all I should send you away before it was too late, but I just…”

Gianna touched her. She shivered. “You never would’ve been able to scare me off anyway. I’m too stubborn for that.”

Beatrice sighed, sinking into her touch like she was a warm bed on a freezing cold night.

“So, what now?” Gianna asked at length, though she was reluctant to think of anything beyond this moment. This, all that she’d discovered, it did change things. Just not the things that mattered. Not as far as she was concerned, at least. “I mean, I guess we don’t have to leave now, but you do have a body in your garden so…”

“No. I want to. I want to leave.”

“Then we will,” said Gianna. “I just need to make a call first.”

-----

Petra pulled up to the curb outside a street she had intended never to visit again and opened the door with a glare.

“Gianna. I see you’re still alive despite ignoring every single warning I tried to give you.”

Before Gianna could respond she got up and pulled her into a clumsy hug.

“Crazy girl,” she muttered affectionately.

For half a second Gianna relaxed into the hug, before she remembered herself and pulled back with a gasp.

“What’s wrong?”

No blisters or rashes forming spontaneously on her skin. No sign of any adverse reaction at all. Her shoulders sagged with relief. It seemed she hadn’t absorbed Beatrice’s more overtly toxic qualities along with her immunity. Or, not yet at least.

The thought had been nagging at the back of her mind, that more traits might yet blossom down the line. Even Beatrice, by her own account, hadn’t been born with many of her abilities but rather had grown into them throughout her childhood and into the early years of adolescence. 

And I thought puberty was bad enough as it is.

“Nothing,” she replied at length. “I’m just a little sore.”

She had explained the situation to the best of her ability over the phone, but had omitted more a number of key details. Some things she withheld with purpose, some because she felt it wasn’t her story to tell, some simply because she couldn’t find the words. 

To Petra’s knowledge, Gianna had made plans to run away with Rappaccini’s daughter and when the man refused her, had broken into his apartment. This led to a struggle which resulted in his accidental death. All technically true. The details she chose to keep vague for the time being, until she could be certain the professor was on their side, although she had a sneaking suspicion she knew more than she let on anyway.

Petra looked from Gianna to the visibly shaken young woman who was clinging to her side. “Who did him in?”

“I did,” said Gianna without a thought. She’d been mentally rehearsing her story while they waited. “He found out about me and Bea and made it very clear that he was willing to kill us both to stop it from happening. I freaked out and pushed him, and he fell. He was old and frail. It was an accident.”

She nodded along with the tale but her thoughts were plainly elsewhere. Gianna got the impression she didn’t entirely believe her. That was fine, as long as she didn’t press.

“Where is he?”

She let go of the breath she’d been holding. That, she could answer definitively. “In the garden. Under it, I guess.”

Another nod. “It’ll do. He was a shut-in; I doubt anyone will come looking for him. I assume anyone who knew him well enough also would know better than to investigate his disappearance too closely. I’ll keep an eye on things, just in case.”

It probably should’ve bothered Gianna how nonchalant she appeared about a former colleague’s murder, even one she had a bad history with. But truthfully she was just grateful Petra had agreed to all of this so easily. She had no desire to look too closely at her motivations.

Petra reached into her pocket and handed Gianna a slip of paper with an address written on it.

“My summer home,” she explained. “You can lay low there for a while.”

“Petra… thank you.”

“Thank you. You’ve done me the service of taking care of something I should have a long time ago. Maybe once the good doctor’s research is in ashes I’ll finally be able to sleep through the night.”

She said it lightly, but there was a grave seriousness in her eyes.

“Please, not the garden,” Beatrice said softly. She’d spoken little since they’d left the apartment and it was no wonder why. The gravity of her actions was now beginning to sink in, and that combined with leaving the safety and familiarity of her home for the first time in her life had put her in a state of shock. 

She never would truly regret laying Dr Rappaccini to rest, but the world did feel like a very different place without him in it.

“Is there any way you could get the plants to us once we’re there?”

“I’ll do my best, I can promise you that much.” She looked Beatrice up and down, really taking her in for the first time. “So you’re the ‘daughter.’”

“I am. I was.”

Dr Bagnol flexed her fingers around the handle of her cane, quietly contemplative. For the first time that Gianna had ever seen, she was unsure of what to say. “Did you ever… The other experiments, did they…?”

Beatrice inclined her head. Thankfully she needed no elaboration. “My father told me some. He said there were others before me, my sisters, but that they were imperfect and didn’t survive more than a few weeks. Your name’s Dr Bagnol, isn’t it? He spoke about you too, once or twice I think. It didn’t mean anything to me at the time.” She hesitated. “They’re happy now, if it helps. I never met them while they were alive but they talk to me through the flowers, though I can’t always understand them. My father didn’t believe me when I told him. There were a lot of things he didn’t believe in.”

The woman hummed in acknowledgment. “It’s a pretty unbelievable story. But I’ve dared to put my faith in plenty of strange ideas and often I’ve been right. For better or for worse.”

Petra gestured to the open car door and handed Gianna the keys. 

“You’d better get moving.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I’ve got things to take care of here, the sooner the better. Don’t worry about the car. It’s the least I can do.” Her gaze lingered on Beatrice. “I’ve missed a lot of birthdays.”

They packed their bags into the trunk and Gianna settled into the driver’s seat. Catching the other’s anxious look she assured her, “We’ll go slow.”

“You may not have that luxury,” Petra said with the certainty of someone who had made her own share of narrow escapes. She rapped her knuckles on the hood of the car. “Go now and don’t stop until you’re across the state line.”

Nodding grimly Gianna spared one last look to the older woman: her co-conspirator, her mentor, her friend. “Thank you.”

They drove, and little by little New York retreated in the rear view until it blipped out of existence, a vanishing dream. Gianna would’ve liked to say she was sorry to leave it behind but in reality, the city wasn’t her home. It wasn’t her tiny apartment with the glitchy kitchen light and plastered over vintage moulding, nor even the house in the suburbs where her parents still lived, blissfully unaware of their daughter’s doings. 

To her, home was an ephemeral thing, the stops on the way to a destination that was always changing. Beatrice on the other hand had only known one home all her life, one which may never exist for her again, at least not in the same way it had. 

Yet when Gianna dropped one hand from the wheel and reached for her, she slotted her fingers between hers with no hesitation, only a trembling sigh as she continued to familiarize herself with the skin-to-skin contact. That too, Gianna thought, could be home. If nothing else, she could try and make it one for her.

A few hours passed with fewer words spoken between them. Sometimes she would ask Beatrice if she was hungry or feeling motion sick or if she wanted to try lying down in the back to get some rest, and each time she would answer with a polite shake of the head. The night settled over them like a deep blue linen, too gentle and frail to risk tearing with clumsy words.

The quiet wasn’t a bother to either of them. If talk is cheap then the clasping of hands and the soft kisses pressed to wrists and knuckles was a language that had cost them dearly.

Nearing their destination, Gianna pulled onto a sideroad that took them from asphalt to dirt and gravel to nothing as it came to an abrupt dead end. There was no house or even any helpful landmarks to be found, just grass and trees, so they parked the car to have a look around while Gianna fiddled with the GPS.

Beatrice stepped out into the field and filled her lungs, cautiously at first, and then in deep lusty breaths like a drowning body coming up for air. She shucked off her shoes and hiked up her dress to let the wild grass brush against her legs. The new plantlife turned brittle and curled away from her touch but she didn’t mind.

Gianna turned to find her partner lying in the middle of the field, heels digging into the dirt like she was trying to put down roots, and laughing giddily. The unrestrained, childlike joy on her face was contagious and Gianna soon found herself giggling as well.

“Having fun?” 

“Oh it’s so weird,” she hiccuped. “There aren’t any walls. There aren’t even any buildings. It just goes on and on forever.”

She sat down in the grass next to her. “It’s not too overwhelming?”

“It is, but in a good way. It’s so… so much more than I thought it would be from books and pictures. It feels like a dream.”

“Describe it to me,” she said.

Beatrice sat herself upright and curled into Gianna’s embrace.

“It’s not the same as being in my garden. These plants don’t speak to me, and I can feel them but I don’t know them, if that makes any sense. You can’t feel them at all, can you?”

“No. Whatever you gave me… I don’t know, maybe it just doesn’t work that way.”

She tried not to look disappointed. Being able to touch, to be beside one another like this and not have to worry should have been enough. It was enough. But Gianna was beginning to understand that Beatrice’s loneliness was a vein that ran deeper than the more obvious isolation she experienced. 

As Dr Rappaccini himself had alluded to, she was one of a kind. To Gianna, that just made her all the more amazing, but to Beatrice it was a curse. More than anything, maybe more than to be loved, she longed to be understood. 

“Wish your superpowers could help us find this stupid house,” Gianna remarked.

Beatrice perked up. “Actually, I think it’s just on the other side of those trees.”

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t really know how to explain it but there’s this absence. Like, a blank space. Things are growing around it but in that space,” She made the shape of a square with her hands. “Nothing.”

Gianna stood up and brushed herself off. “Well let’s take a look then.”

Sure enough, the path picked up again on the other side of a small thicket and led them to the house-- more of a cabin really. Although the outside was just as overgrown from the years of neglect, aside from some dust and cobwebs the interior was remarkably well preserved. In a closet they found a broom and dustpan, some rags, and a bottle with an inch or so of cleaner still swishing around at the bottom. They also happened upon spare linens and an abandoned down comforter that had been tucked aside for a rare chilly day, blessedly free of grime. 

The weather was still plenty warm so they opened all the windows and aired out the rooms and when Gianna was confident no spiders would crawl into her mouth while they were sleeping, she bid Beatrice join her under the duvet. There they dreamed with nothing but that big comforter between them and the night air. That was how they stayed until the morning.

For weeks they lived like this, playacting the roles of the two happy honeymooners. They got up, worked on cleaning up the house, cooked, ate, went to bed, and occasionally slept. It was a strange dance, one whose steps they made up as they went along. And sometimes they fell out of step. 

Gianna had to go into town sometimes, to walk in the all too human places Beatrice still feared to tread and come back with supplies and dinner and a new book for her to read. It was nice, Beatrice thought, to be cared for in little ways like that, but though she gratefully accepted the gifts they also tended to remind her that when it came down to it, not very much had changed.

Her dictatorial father was gone, but so was her garden, her petaled elder sisters whom she cared for and cared for her in turn. The doors were all unlocked now, but many days she found herself lurking in the thresholds listening for the sound of tires crunching on leaflitter. In those interrums, she was as alone as she’d ever been.

When Gianna was there though, all was lovely. She gave her things she never imagined she would have-- at least not so freely, certainly not multiple times in one night. But in the wake of her affection a sick fretful feeling would open up like a chasm in her chest, taunting her as it ripped her in two, “Don’t you know how to be alive without trailing at someone’s heel?”

Its presence, this nebulous worry, dogged her day by day. In the small hours, while her girlfriend slept, Beatrice lay awake trying to trace the shape of this shadow that darkened the edges of her newfound happiness. 

“Bea? You okay?”

She was standing outside in the grass, near the woods that surrounded the cabin. She liked to be here. Wandering too far made her nervous so she had to devise more creative ways to explore the world that was now open to her. Often she came here to test the reach of her awareness, feeling her way through the landscape as if with a phantom limb. 

However Gianna found it a little unnerving to watch her girlfriend standing and staring into space for hours on end and typically only joined her when it had been long enough for her to get worried.

Beatrice blinked and rolled her neck experimentally. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She put a hand on her shoulder. “Dinner’s ready.”

They twined their arms together as they walked the beaten path back to the house. It was times like this that she felt she could forget her concerns and just enjoy the present moment. Whatever came next, she wanted to have as many moments like that as she could.

--

next chapter

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Small Time Witch (11)

STEVE

In the dim light of morning the Avengers returned from battle. It was messier than they had planned but the job was done. In the coming days there would be debriefings and meetings. Raised voices. Things to clean up. Steve couldn’t think about that right now.

Adrenaline seeped from his muscles and as they relaxed he felt sore. He peeled off his suit letting it pool in a heap at his feet. Steam from the shower filled the room. He didn’t test the water before he got in. It stung and turned his skin red but it melted away the last tendrils of the fight.

He was hoping you would be in his bed waiting for him. On the ride back he thought of burying his cock in you and just falling asleep that way. You must have been in your bunk. Knowing you’d be up soon he texted you to let you know he was back safe and passing out. He didn’t say it but he hoped to wake up next to you. He was asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.

LOKI

He woke up in a panic searching for his phone. The sun was up and he just knew any moment a mad soldier would kick in the door and turn his face into ground meat. The text from Thor came just after dawn. Since he had not been bludgeoned he guessed they all went to bed.

He started drifting back to sleep when you began to stir. He smoothed your hair and kissed the top of your head. You leaned into his touch pressing your body into his.

Mornings with you were as close to his version of perfect as he could imagine. You draped yourself over him like armor to protect his most vulnerable parts. Armor he would wear proudly into any battle. He kept saying his mother’s words over and over hoping they were true. “She’ll come around” He couldn’t live on hope though. It wouldn’t sustain him. He hugged you tighter knowing that soon you would be in the arms of another man. He felt like he was losing everything though you were never really his to lose.

YOU

Morning found you still wrapped around Loki. Even in his sleep he looked pensive. The man never relaxed. Though, when you held him, his face was a little softer. The usual hard line of his lips was more lax. You could see the fullness of his bottom lip. You traced it with your finger. He didn’t move.

He loved you. You felt it all the time now. He made no effort to reign it in. The weight of his feelings made you feel heady like the night you drank Thor’s liquor. The fact was though you did not have the capacity to trust someone with your heart. To say love has burned you is an understatement.

There was your first love Bobby Myer. That unfortunate incident got you removed from school. Your friends wouldn’t talk to you. He spread a rumor that you had VD. It was awful. Then there was your boyfriend in college. Ethan. He was thoughtful and spoke about books like they were his lovers. He listened to indie rock and only drank coffee ironically. You were head over heels for him. Then you caught him sleeping with your roommate. That shock wasn’t an accident. You heard he still has a twitch.

The last was Andrew Kale. He was your best friend Jennifer’s brother. He was also possessed by the demon who killed your family. You were told that, when the family unleashed him, Hellphyr had already taken over and Andrew was deceased. You loved him so much it consumed you. You trusted him and he betrayed you. They both did. You promised yourself that you would never again fall that hard. Now look at you. You are in the same place with Loki that you were with Andrew. When you said you couldn’t trust Loki with your heart you really meant to say you didn’t trust yourself.

You knew Loki would worship the ground you walked on. You could feel it in how he made love to you. He wanted to take you apart and know every centimeter of your body. You could see yourself living somewhere impossibly sheik with a couple of kids. Twins probably though you weren’t sure why. They would be scary smart and only communicate telepathically with each other. You would be happy but so tight knit that you wouldn’t have use for outsiders. You would probably die on the same day. He wouldn’t allow himself to go on without you.

Steve on the other hand, you knew you could love Steve. He’s strong and dependable like an old pickup. He was sweet and kind. He had endless patience for you. And, let’s face it, he fucked you like it was his job. He’s really great at his job. You imagined having children with him. He’d probably want a bunch. You would never feel like an outsider. You would always be surrounded by family. You’d have a warm home always full of laughter.

Your fantasies aside, you had to do what was right and safe for you for right now. Getting lost with Loki wasn’t the best path for you at the moment. You both knew it. You had so much healing to do.

You stayed holding him for a few more minutes then decided he likely needed the rest. It was getting late and you were starving. You got dressed and set out to find food.

Nat and Wanda were chatting with a few people in the cafeteria. They saw you and waved you over.

“How did it go?” They didn’t seem beat up so you assumed well.

“Not bad. Clint broke Cap’s no casualty rule.” Wanda explained.

“He had to save Sam. There was a sniper ready to unload on him.”

Wanda held her hands up to yield, “I’m not saying it wasn’t warranted.”

“Is Steve still asleep?” Nat asked

“I’m assuming. I didn’t stay in his room.”

Wanda knew where you were. You changed the subject.

“Well I guess I get to go back to payroll. It’s been fun but, I have to say, way too much excitement for me.”

“Speaking of which, you had better be ready. Tony and Steve are going to ream your ass for that little stunt you pulled.” Nat warned.

“I got the job done. Besides. Loki was with me. Between the two of us I was quite safe.” They both shrugged. Just then Tony spotted you.

“You! Come with me. We need to talk.” He pulled you aside and unloaded on you.

“We have protocols for a reason. Stupid move killing your comms.”

“Tony I...”

“No. That was the last mission you’ll go on with us if you can’t follow simple protocol. I told you before. We cannot protect your ass. I know you are powerful but you are also powerfully stupid. Not only did you endanger your life but you put Loki’s life at risk and ours. We’re a team. We look out for each other. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good. I don’t like fussing at you like that. With all that said though, you’re an electrical engineer. I can use you at Stark Industries. I’ll pay much better than SHIELD and you’ll be doing a lot less grunt work.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“What’s to think about?”

“Lay off her Tony.” Steve’s voice warmed you to your very soul.

“Oh yay. Capsicle to the rescue. I expect an answer by end of business today, Y/n.”

You felt Steve’s arms sliding around your hips. He kissed you below your ear and whispered, “Hi.” A shiver ran up your spine. When you turned around to kiss him you saw his lip was split and his cheek was bruised. You frowned and touched his face. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing. I heal fast.”

“So I suppose you’re here to fuss at me too.” He tilted your head up to look at him.

“I wasn’t happy. I’ve been thinking about punishing you all night.” You smiled and your cheeks warmed.

“My my, Captain. I did not know this side of you existed. I’m intrigued. How do you plan to punish me?”

He chuckled a little rolling the many possibilities through his head. “I told you you wouldn’t be able to sit for a week. You disobeyed direct orders. That’ll cost your sweet ass at least two weeks.”

You kissed his too sore lips. He didn’t mind.

“I have to go to a debriefing. Shouldn’t take more than an hour or so. I need you to be in my bed when I get back. Be naked and ready. Make yourself wet. Think of your Captain when you fuck yourself with your fingers but don’t cum. All of your pleasure is mine.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“You had better not disappoint me.” He pulled you in for a deep kiss. His lip re-split spilling the copper taste of his blood onto your tongue. You squeezed your thighs together to relieve some pressure. He felt your body shift so he wedged his thigh between your legs. He contracted his muscle hard and rigid against your heat. You could feel an orgasm building. You moaned in his mouth. “Not yet, Princess. I’ll see you soon.” One more kiss on the forehead and he left you there panting. You just about ran to his room when you heard Director Fury’s voice behind you.

“Y/l/n! Why was there a letter of resignation with your name on it handed to me?”

Fucking Tony. This ought to take a while. You wondered how punished you would be if you were late.

[beyoncesdragon]

The Sin pt. 2

The confession  

Pariring: Tommy Shelby x Reader 

Warnings: some making out bc I want that and lots and lots of swearing 

Summary: It’s an invite that went missing and feelings that got returned. Just a little late, a little unfortunate and a little unholy. In this part: Where Tommy confesses something to the reader and Grace plays a different part in it than imagined. 

Here: Where Tommy finally comes home.

a/n: first of all: I am so so so so so sorry for taking ages to write this. believe me I have around 4 different versions of this, all over 3k words long. I struggled greatly with this, and it’s my own fockin fault. I think I have never, and I mean never struggled more and I hateeeee this. but it just doesn't seem to get better. I am sorry. I hope you still read and enjoy🥺

Just because I can remember @soleil-dor​ asking specifically...this for u. I am so SORRY fuck

My Masterlist 

My doorbell ringed at the same time the church bells stroke midnight and it scared me half to death. I’d fallen asleep on the couch, only dressed in my flowy nightgown and a light blanket over my shoulders, the book had already slipped from my grip. I sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders, carefully approaching the door. I heard a rumble from upstairs, probably Elise jumping out of her bed. I sighed, deciding that I would just open the door myself.

The last man I had expected to stand in front of my door, soaked to the bone and with pale face and tousled hair was him. Not that I had expected anyone, but especially not him.

My eyes flickered over his silhouette and back to his face. There was something strange in his eyes, something broken from the inside, almost. His posture remained as always, proud, upright and unbothered but his eyes…I remember how Polly had once mentioned to him that the eyes were the doors to the soul. Tommy had just blankly stared at her, given her an unfazed look before lowly explaining that he, in fact, must’ve lost his soul in France then, because nobody would ever read him through his eyes. And I had almost believed him. Almost.

I snapped out of my thoughts and tilted my head. I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted another Shelby around at that time of the day.

The white light of a lightning flared across the dark night and made me flinch. To hell with this, I was not letting anyone stand outside my door during weather like this. With a small sigh I stepped aside, letting him pass me to come in. Elise, my loyal handmaiden who had peaked from behind my back, quickly shuffled aside, the worry still haven’t left her face. Usually it would’ve been her opening up, but I had allowed her to go to sleep already because I really wanted to finish that book...so she’s been freed from that duty. However, it didn’t stop her from come running when she heard the doorbell ring.

My eyes fell on a gun in her hand, as it suited the only handmaiden in an unprotected house. Yet I still always chuckled seeing her like this: wearing a light green nightshirt which reached down over her knees, backless slippers and a nightcap to protect her light brown curls. And then a bloody gun. I supressed a grin.

“Madam…?” she whispered as I closed the door shut, giving him a suspicious look. “It’s fine Elise. It’s just Tommy he…he’s okay. You can go to bed again. Or maybe if you would just prepare a the kettle with some hot water for tea…” I suggested, eyes trailing over Tommy. This man needed tea, urgently.

She nodded almost reluctantly before hinting a curtesy. Almost secretive she however handed me the gun, as if to make sure I could still shoot him if in need. I bit back a smile and nodded at her, before looking back at Tommy.

He had his eyes locked on me, a strong unbroken gaze. He didn’t even blink. His black coat was dripping down onto the carpet, his hands held his hat tightly. His eyes left me to follow the young frame of Elise leaving the kitchen with a nod into our direction and tiredly climbing up the stairs.

“She’s handed you a gun.” Those were the first words he had said to me since that phone call, around two weeks ago. His eyes now fell to my hands before I could place the gun down or hide it…so I wouldn’t offend him. But he’s seen it, obviously.

“She has. People are not scared enough of women to leave us alone.” I explained with a shrug, looking down at the shimmering weapon in my hand. “Y’gonna use it?” I looked up surprised. “Against who? You?” he shrugged, face blank and impossible to read. I could only chuckle at that, shaking my head and placing it down. “Obviously not?” he nodded in a matter-of-factly before suddenly grabbing my hips and shoving me against the wall behind me. His hand were everywhere and his lips left burning kisses all over my neck and jaw.

“T-Tommy…?” I could only stutter, completely taken aback by his eagerness, his neediness and his want. His cloak was still wet and cold and I could feel it soak through my thin silky nightgown as he pressed his body against mine.

“Wet.” I could only mumble against his lips before he bit down on my lower lip, urging me to stop talking. He however did start to shrug the jacket off of his shoulders, getting frustrated when it wouldn’t work. I pushed him away gently, helping him slipping out of the wet coat. it took me about ten seconds but I already missed his touch like an addict craved a line of coke. He let the probably completely overpriced coat fall to the ground and instead of picking it up he was back on my lips in no time. His hands were roaming over my body, pulling me tighter every now and then. His tongue urged me to open up my lips to let him deepen the kiss. I did, not hesitating a second. The sharp whistle of a teapot made us snap apart. His breathing was heavy, just like mine.

He stepped back in silence, letting me pass in an almost awkward silence. Tension lied heavy between the two of us, so thick and noticeable it made me dizzy. He made me dizzy.

“Is Earl Grey fine? No wait, camomile is actually better…or lime blossom…” I coughed, trying my hardest to overcome the husk of my own voice as my fingers traced along the carefully stacked tins filled with the best herbs and mixtures.

“Whisky does the job.” His husk voice caught me off guard since it was way closer than I had expected. “Lime blossom it is then. Fuck off with whisky, do you know what time it is?” he said nothing after that, his eyes silently following my every move as I set up the teapot to pour the boiling water into. There wasn’t another word spoken during the time the lime blossom soaked in, we kind of just stood there, watching the steam from the teapot and each other.

He looked worn out in the dim light of my kitchen. His skin was paler than usual, his hair a tad messier than I was used to (which could theoretically also be my fault though), his eyes less deep and colder.

Now, where he had removed his dripping coat he looked a bit less buff. Still a hunk of a man, still towering me. Especially because I wasn’t wearing heels, which was a thing I usually did, especially around men. Their ego was often big enough to treat me more like a servant and less like a business partner simply because I was a woman and they were taller. It was ridiculous really. Tommy had never treated me like this, I had never feared to be treated like an underdog. Sure, he was sly and witty, he knew how to bargain and twist everything to his profit. But that wasn’t done in a condescend manner at all. Maybe that was why I was drawn to him the way I was. The second he stepped out of his car and walked towards me, proud and seemingly uncaring of all the stares he was receiving from my workers. It had been truly stunned when he stopped, eyes wandering over my stable lad and me, before approaching me. Usually people tended to approach Gregory first, a thing I watched with great amusement. Not so Tommy, he’d approached me from the beginning. And he ended up buying one of my best horses immediately, Yastra, a horse I had never planned to sell in the first place. She wasn’t even named properly for the race tracks. Tommy couldn’t care less. He’d given the proud sand coloured steep a long look before offering his deal. Yastra still lived on my property and I still trained her, just like the two other horses he’d bought later on. Only one, a brown mare by the name of Pacific Princess II stood in his stables.

The strong and sweet taste of the lime blossom made me shake my head and snap out of my thoughts. Tea was ready and if I would leave it too long without serving, it would turn bitter. “Get me a stand from in there.” I turned to reach for the honey when I suddenly felt his presence behind me. I turned around, almost bumping into him. He had his lips on mine before I could even say something, picking off the unsaid words from my lips and swallowing them down. His tongue urged me to open up my lips to let him deepen the kiss. I did, not hesitating a second.

It wasn’t a sweet kiss, not at all. It was more like a violent, unrestrained kiss, a kiss with teeth nipping on swollen lips. He was devouring me, drinking all of my being in with one kiss, and I felt like he was sucking the air straight from my lungs.

Tommy kissed so hard it was like he was trying to leave the memory of the imprints of his lips in my mind forever. And he probably accomplished just that by now.

His hands were roaming over my body, pulling me tighter every now and then. He pushed me back against the countertop, lifting me up to place me down on it immediately.

He let out a throaty groan, splitting my legs with his body to come even closer. He tasted sweet, kissed filthy as ever and set my skin on fire. My mind was blank, all I could I think was Tommy, his hand on my back, the other one trailing shakily from my waist up, over my breast before halting at my collar bone. He brought it up to my neck, deepening the kiss even more, making it just a tad more desperate.

In moments like these it was when I realised once again how I would never ever get over Tommy Shelby, not in this life and probably not in another one. He just swept me off my feet every time. He did it when we had kissed first, needy and thrilling, in the stables a few years ago. It had been the third time we had met, this time for inspecting one of his race horses because of breeding options. Monaghan boy, a black stallion with a beautiful neck. As always, tension had lingered  between the two of us like a thick fog, but he had been the first to give in. He had this thing where he liked to back me up against the wall, preferably dominant and always in charge. It had made my knees weak in an instant and it didn’t help that he had a tongue to sin with. From that day on, our meetings consisted of either heated discussions about horses and life or sex. Or both, most of the time…then he had met Grace and whatever we had, stopped. And it stopped in an ugly way, rather. I could’ve understood if he had come to me and told me that he now considered a serious relationship with someone who was not me. I would’ve let him go, heartbroken but at peace. But he had not had the decency to do so, oh no. he had rather left in a hurry with a few stuttered words about “This can’t happen anymore…I’m sorry.”

And yet here he was, for the second time since he said that and ran. And I was letting it happen again, like the fool I was. We parted swiftly to catch out breaths again before Tommy connected his lips with my neck again. He sucked lightly at my skin and left a trail of burning marks down to my shoulders. I moaned quietly as he bit down on my sweet spot right above my collar bone, and pushed his face up to mine again. Instead of kissing me again, he just looked at me, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Regretting this already?” I pushed out, almost in spite since he still waited. He quirked an eyebrow, eyes growing dark again. “Why do you always try to piss me off?” good question actually, on the other hand, who the fuck was he to ask anything. “Because you’re hot when you are angry.” He growled lowly, bringing his lips to mine again.

I don’t know what it was that broke the spell and made  a weird form of panic flood my bones. Something in my brain switched when he suddenly picked me up, his hungry lips still on mine. This was a married man with a son and a wife at home. What the hell was I doing here? But before I could say something, Tommy had carried me into the livingroom and placed me on one of the couches. He was over me in an instant, pressing me down gently.

“Tommy…Tommy what are you doing?” I asked breathlessly, panting for air. He stopped, eyes flickering over my face, dark with lust.

“What does it look like.” He was equally out of breath, his voice just a tad throatier than before. I said nothing, just brushed a strand of hair out of his face. A whirlwind of emotions flickered through his eyes, like a thunderstorm of realisation, lust, angst, regret, maybe? It was quiet in the room for quite a while, only the crackling fire and wind hitting the windows could be heard. Then Tommy did something I had not expected at all: he let his head rest on my chest, arms around me, unmoving like a heavy organic blanket. My fingers found their way up to his hair, carefully brushing through the longer curls. I was still a bit taken aback by the sudden switch of attitude and mood.

“What’s troubling you, Tommy?” I asked softly, still stroking through his hair. The raw and vulnerable energy that surrounded us now, almost took my breath away. Tommy just shook his head swiftly. He wasn’t ready to talk about it, or so it seemed.

“Do y’ever wear it?”

I was confused first. Wear what? Then…my hand wandered up to my neck, as if searching for the green emerald. But there was nothing, just hot skin.

“I do.  I took it off for bed.” I explained, almost physically feeling the weight of the precious stone on my collar. “Why did you even send it back?” I asked carefully, that question had lingered in the back of my mind for quite some time now. Tommy sighed deeply. “I took an envelope and…” I snorted quickly, cutting him off. “Stop bullshitting me Tommy. I gave her the necklace. Did she not like it?” He sat up, looking down at my lying frame beneath him. There was almost a sly glint in his blue eyes as his gaze met mine again.

“Someone convinced her that the heart was cursed. Gipsy magic.” I gasped in outrage. “Excuse me? Someone?” Tommy just leaned back, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Someone.” He confirmed, still that mischievous glint in his eyes. “Fuck off Tommy. She probably hates me now. Good job, this is one way of keeping me away from your parties.” He let out a snort, almost a chuckle.

“That won’t be a problem anymore. You can come whenever you like.” I rose my eyebrows surprised. I felt like we were slowly getting to the reason why he appeared on my doorstep at twelve thirty in the night.

“She’s…well…she’s left.” I sucked in a startled breath. “Left? As in…ran away? Divorced?” Tommy had his face turned away from me, his eyes watching the fire in the fireplace crackle. “Left.” I gulped, not knowing what to say or do. “I am sorry…really sorry.” I only stuttered, watching the flames reflect red in his eyes. They seemed glossier than before…Jesus Christ I really had no idea how to deal with this situation as a whole. Only hesitantly I placed my hand on his arm. It was weird how I now felt so…shy touching him, when only minutes ago we were making out like our lives depended on it.

“Is it because…because of me?” I whispered, scared of his answer. He snapped back to me, eyes then trailing over my hand.

“No…she’s been married before me, you know. Only she told me that her man had killed herself after she left him.” it made sense now to me, her purple dress. A dress symbolizing that one was still mourning…and I had wondered over who, at a wedding after all.

“Turns out that he’s very much alive.” His voice was bitter and heavy of anger and I traced small circles into arm. “We’ve had an argument you know…about horses and who trains them.” My interest peaked up some more. “I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of May Carleton…” I nodded swiftly. Of course I did, she was a mutual in every way after all.

“Suppose you had something going on with that one too?” Tommy hesitated a moment before nodding quickly.

“I never loved her. It was just…sex?” he almost asked me that and I chuckled softly. “Who am I to judge Tommy. I don’t know if you had feelings for her. After all, you shouldn’t degrade what the two of you did…are we not the same?” that made him snap around to me. “We? Just sex?” his eyes narrowed and it seemed like a new fire ignited them. I waved it off, drawing another circle in his arm. He shook his head, continuing.

“It stopped when Grace came back from New York.” I hummed before waiting for him to continue. “She trained my horses…” I gave him a pointed look. “I can sense betrayal.” He gave me a pointed look.

“What?” I couldn’t help but grin. “Training your horses by another woman…I am hurt. You coward.” He shook his head slowly. “You don’t know how difficult you are sometimes.” I chuckled softly, giving him a wink.

“You love me.” He said nothing, his face falling a bit. I frowned, wanting to assure him that I was only joking but he cut me off. “Do you have whisky?” I nodded, getting up swiftly and walking over to a cabinet. “What would you like?” I asked, stepping aside for him to see the dusty bottles. He got up and walked closer, eyes wandering over the labels.

My eyes wandered over his face, that worn out but handsome face, a face that haunted me and basically ruined all other men for me. My thoughts flickered to the expression on his face when I made the joke about him loving me. I had meant to read something like guilt in his features, but why? Sure, love was a strong word and I wasn’t entirely sure if I could ever expect love from someone like Tommy Shelby, especially after he just broke up with Grace…no, after she just broke up with him. Or called off the engagement, or whatever.

“That one.” I snapped out of my thoughts and grabbed the bottle he chose. I prepared two glass of the orange brown liquor carrying them over to the couch again.

I sat down whilst Tommy kept pacing around the room, his glass in his hands. I noticed the absence of a ring and it almost felt…relieving. But then again…it didn’t. because I couldn’t help but feel guilty for all I’d done.

“She took the boy with her. To fucking New York.” He suddenly pressed out, necking the whisky in a swift move. My mouth parted in surprise and I could only stutter my words of condolence. “I’m sorry to hear that…” I started, silenced by his angry glare immediately.

“Stop lying.” I rose my eyebrows. “Lying? Why should I lie?” he shrugged, visibly frustrated now. “Can I smoke?” I shrugged, watching him light up a cigarette before turning back to me. “Because that’s what you…I don’t fucking know!” he then started, not even daring to finish his thoughts. And maybe it was that what finally ticked me off.

“You wanted to say, because that’s what I wanted? Is it that? Finish your damn sentences!” his eyes flashed up in irritation, but I went on before he could even reply to anything.

“By the way Tommy, what I want is something that should be entirely unknown by you, since you’re not me! And, just to clarify, before you use that…thing that there was on that party two weeks ago: you kissed me! I only turned up because of…I don’t know, spite, anger, whatnot. But I never intended to do anything like…what we did.” He laughed dryly. “You wanna say, you regret it?” I tilted my head, leaning back a bit. “I never said that.” He hummed, an angry glint in his eyes again. Or rather, still.

“Maybe you shouldn’t’ve turned up then, and sure as hell not given her that damn necklace…” I shook my head.

“I think we both know that this is not about you and not being able to handle her wearing some green, glittery rock.” He took a sharp breath. “By the way, do you even realise how dangerous a rumour like this is for my reputation? That I jinx stuff? Curse chains and…jewellery? There is a legit possibility of my name being ruinedbecause of your little lie.” he said no word, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, grey smoke passing through his lips.

“Are you done?” his voice wasn’t as calm and collected as usually, instead is was heavy with anger and maybe hurt. His icy eyes snapped back to mine, piercing through them as if to strip me off of all of my dignity and leave my soul linger nakedly in front of him.

“Am I done?” I repeated quietly, anger making my voice hoarse. He’d always had a special talent for pissing me off, but this was topping anything. I didn’t even knew what to respond I was so angry. “Yes, are you done. Done, because then I can tell you why the fuck I decided to send that goddamn thing away, back to you.” he took another pull from his smoke before flicking it into the fire. “Can you remember why I gave you this necklace? When I gave it to you?” of course I could, clear as day. It had been a promise, a small, weak promise to care for each other. We had been out, a lovely and peaceful walk with the horses he had just bought, the stars bright and the night cold. He’d been nervous the moment he presented the beautiful stone to me, an almost angsty flicker in his eyes, as if waiting for a rejection.

I had not rejected, obviously, and Tommy had slipped the necklace around my neck whilst pressing butterfly kisses to my neck. But still: the one who ran and broke his own promise had not been me, but him. I crossed my arms over my chest, shaking my head slowly.

“Of course I can. But it still explains nothing.” He grunted angrily. “Not, eh? Maybe that I don’t need a reminder of us around me every day?” I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You mean, you are selfish Tommy? You mean that the fact that you broke your own fucking promise, is making you regret certain decisions from your past? And I am not talking about marrying another woman, I am talking about that hit and run number you pulled there, and then not inviting me to you bloody wedding-celebration…” he slammed his fist down on the chair back, me regret my decision to jump up immediately. But I couldn’t just sit down again, I wouldn’t back off now.

“Do I look like I need a bloody reminder that I fucked up, eh? Do I really look like that to you? And you come and have the fucking nerve to…blame it on my selfishness? My selfishness? When you knew ex-fucking-sactly, what would do to me, if you gave her this necklace?” I was robbed of words to shoot back at him, stumbling back at the force of his words. He followed up, it felt like I was back in his office again.

“You don’t leave my head, my thoughts, my mind, not at night and not at day. You’re there constantly, alright? And I am…was fucking married, alright? I have a bloody kid with that woman, a life, a house, a business. I don’t need a reminder of you on my spouses neck. Fuck!” his eyes were wild and full of emotion, his breath quick and hot and grazing my lips, he was so close.

“I’m sorry.” Was all I pressed out, not exactly knowing what else to say. Tommy just shook his head. “I am sorry. I think I just…” his whole attitude changed all of a sudden, again as if all the anger and hurt left his body and left him behind tired and worn out.

“I think I just missed you.”

I carefully linked my fingers with his before pulling him into a hug. “I missed you too, Tommy. A lot, y’know?” he just buried his face in the crook of my neck and took a deep breath. After a few second he let go of me, stepping back a bit. Not far, and never fully letting go of me. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? You can have the guestroom if you need space…” he just tilted his head. “or you can sleep in my bed. With me present of course.” A shy smile played around his lips as he nodded softly. “I am comfortable if you are.” I just pulled him upstairs.

It felt different when Tommy slipped under the covers now, as if we’d never spent a night in the same bed. Which was close to ridiculous because that wasn’t the case at all. The energy just had never been so honest and so…vulnerable. I could hear him take a deep breath, before I felt his arm wrap around me. I turned around to him, glimpsing up at his face. The dark almost swallowed him whole, but I could make out a soft shimmer where his eyes were and the light from the window illuminated his silhouette.

“Are you okay?” I asked carefully, tangling my leg with his.

“Can I kiss you?” I chuckled softly, arms resting on his shoulders. “Have you not already? Like, when you ruined my nightgown, not that long ago?” I could almost hear his little smirk when he hummed, but I could definitely feel it when he brought his lips down to mine. His arms tightened around me when we parted and he let out a soft sigh.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Tommy.” I whispered, leaning into his arms. He mumbled something, words so quiet I couldn’t quite catch them. I raised my head back up.

“Hm?”

“I just…I said that I’m back home.”

[charmingnines]

5 Times Nines Woke Gavin Up (And The 1 Time He Let Him Sleep) - DE Artfest Day 12/5+1

read it on ao3

or read it below vvv

I

Gavin, Nines knew, didn’t really take lunch breaks. Gavin was incredibly single minded, forgetting to eat the whole day in favor of solving a case. When he did stop for lunch (often at Nines’ insistence), he’d either eat very quickly or bring it back to his desk so he and Nines could keep working.

When Gavin went to the breakroom to grab something to eat, Nines expected him back within a few minutes. When twenty minutes passed and Gavin still hadn’t returned, Nines got up to see what was keeping him. He found Gavin in the breakroom, head down on a table, clearly fast asleep.

Tina was using the microwave. “Hey, Nines,” she said.

“Is Gavin sick?” Nines asked.

Tina glanced at Gavin and snorted. “Nah, he’s fine.”

“That has to be uncomfortable,” Nines said.

Tina shrugged. “Insomnia’s a bitch.”

“Oh,” Nines said, thinking of Gavin’s general irritability and short temper in a new light.  “That explains a lot.”

Tina laughed and patted Nines on the shoulder as she left the breakroom.

Nines stood there for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of Gavin’s shoulders. Then, Nines turned to the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee. Within a few minutes, Gavin blinked awake, smelling the air hopefully.

Nines raised an eyebrow. “I can’t believe that worked.”

Gavin jumped slightly. “Jesus,” he said, voice hoarse.

Nines smoothly poured a mug of coffee and deposited it in front of Gavin. Gavin looked from the coffee to Nines, seemingly too drowsy to comprehend either of the two. Nines rolled his eyes and pushed the mug closer to Gavin. Then, Nines left the breakroom. “See you out there, Detective,” he called over his shoulder.

II

Late nights at the DPD were common for Nines and Gavin. Gavin would probably stay late every night if Nines didn’t drag him out of the office. Even so, Nines didn’t see the harm staying late every so often, especially when it resulted in more solved cases.  

They’d been digging through evidence for a few hours in companionable silence when Nines found something that looked promising. “Gavin-” Nines started, turning to look at his partner.

Gavin’s eyes were closed, dark lashes standing out against his skin. His head was tilted at an awkward angle, resting against both his shoulder and the back of his desk chair.

Nines’ internal clock told him it was nearing three in the morning. He blinked. He hadn’t realized how late it’d become.

Nines reached out and pushed Gavin’s chair gently, causing it to slowly spin. Gavin jerked awake, disoriented. He planted his feet on the ground and scowled at Nines. “What was that for, asshole?”

“It’s late,” Nines said, reigning in an amused smile. “And you’re tired. Let’s pick this up in the morning.”

Gavin stretched his neck and sighed. “Fine,” he grumbled, glancing at Nines. “See you in the morning.”

III

Stakeouts were notoriously boring. The majority of the time they led to absolutely nothing. Still, Nines and Gavin couldn’t skip them on the off chance they did lead to something substantial. The first few hours they’d filled with their usual sniping (“Just let me use my binoculars, Nines”), but that’d petered off into a comfortable silence.

As the sun started to rise, it cast pink-gold light through the windshield of the car. Nines glanced over at Gavin and found him asleep. Nines couldn’t blame him; they’d been sitting there since midnight.

Gavin’s curling hair was messier than usual. His lips were slightly parted and he was breathing softly. The scar on his nose didn’t look so stark when his face was relaxed.

Nines waited until his blue flush faded away before turning on the radio at a low volume.  

Gavin rubbed at his eyes. “Fuck,” he said, noticing the time. “How long was I out?”

Nines shrugged, looking away from this sleepy, disheveled, attractive, version of Gavin. “Not long. There was nothing to see anyways….”

IV

“Screw Fowler and screw all these dickheads,” Gavin said, gesturing at the miles of backed up traffic in front of them.

Nines glanced at Gavin. “I don’t think they can hear you, Detective.”  

Gavin ignored Nines. “Sending us to check out a scene during rush hour,” he grumbled. “We’ll be lucky if we get there by midnight.”  

“Actually, my internal GPS predicts we’ll arrive in half an hour-”

Gavin waved his hand. Nines held back a smirk. Grumpy Gavin didn’t respond well to reason.

Gavin pulled the lever connected to the passenger seat, leaning his seat as far back it could go, and shut his eyes.

Gavin was still asleep when they arrived at the scene, an old warehouse that was a suspected red ice production hotspot. Even through the car’s air filters, Nines could smell the stench of large quantities of red ice and- Nines’ eyes widened- fire. The criminals were burning the place down to cover their tracks. Never mind that red ice was an unstable, combustible drug.

Nines didn’t have enough time to move the car away from the scene, so he did the only thing he could do: shield Gavin with his body just as the building exploded. The force made the car skid backwards and blasted the windshield to pieces.

Vaguely, Nines registered the stabbing pain from the glass pieces in his back and the heat from the fire. He heard Gavin’s startled “Nines?” Then, panicked, “Oh, fuck, Nines.”

Nines’ system warned him about excessive thirium loss and imminent shutdown. At least Gavin’s safe, Nines thought, unable to keep his eyes open.

V

Nines woke up in a hospital bed at CyberLife. The glass had been removed from his back and his thirium levels were back to normal. Nines’ system told him his reboot had been the longest part of the repair process, nearly three whole days.

Slumped in a chair next to his bedside was Gavin, asleep. Nines didn’t need to scan him to see he’d been neglecting himself. He looked paler than usual, making the dark bags beneath his eyes look even worse than usual. Nines doubted Gavin had been sleeping or eating regularly; he hadn’t even changed clothes since the accident. Though now invisible to the human eye, Nines could see his own thirium splattered across Gavin’s chest.  

Nines sat up. “Gavin,” he said.

Gavin startled awake. He blinked a few times, looking at Nines like he couldn’t believe he was there. “Nines.”

“You should go home,” Nines said.

Gavin shook his head. “Excuse me?”

“You need to eat something more substantial than what hospital vending machines can offer and then you need to rest,” Nines insisted.

Gavin clenched his fists by his side and set his jaw. For a split second, Nines thought maybe Gavin was going to punch him. Then, Gavin did something even more surprising than that- he lurched forward and kissed him.

It was an aggressive, desperate kind of kiss that left Gavin gasping for air. “You fucking asshole,” Gavin breathed. “I sit here for days, waiting for you to wake up after you saved my fucking life, and you immediately tell me to leave?”

Nines held onto Gavin, stunned. “I just want you to take of yourself.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “You’re just as important as me, dickhead.”

“Sorry for saving your life?”

“Fuck you,” Gavin said, but there was no bite. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” Nines said softly.

Gavin leaned in to kiss Nines again like he couldn’t help it, like he never wanted to stop.

+ I

Nines woke up before Gavin. Weak morning light streamed through the windows. The only sound was of Gavin’s soft breathing. Gavin’s head was on Nines’ shoulder, his hand resting on Nines’ chest. Beneath the covers, their legs were entangled.

After dating for a year, Gavin and Nines had moved into together. Nines had helped Gavin get on an almost functional sleep schedule. Now, Gavin hardly ever fell asleep in questionable places. 

Nines gently ran his fingers through Gavin’s hair before settling his arm around Gavin’s waist and closing his eyes. It was their off day from work and still quite early. Nines let Gavin sleep.

[spac3bar7end3r]

We’re All In This Together

Drarry (1980 words)

General / Accidentally Soul Bond, Hogwarts Eighth Year, EWE, dreams sharing

read on ao3

 Well, to be honest, if it were Finnigan he wouldn’t be this surprised, but this is Potter, Harry Potter, the boy who fucking lived we were talking about. He was the one who could get rid of the Dark Lord and ended the war for merlin's sake. Draco always thought Potter was brighter than this but nope, things have gone wrong because Potter is an absolute wanker. (But what to expect from the bloke who keeps using expelliarmus as if he only knows one spell.)

The source of Draco’s unhappiness turns his head to him, scratching his head awkwardly, which makes his messy hair get messier. Draco sends a cold glare to the other who is lying on the bed next to his.

“I know you didn’t ask for this but please bear with it for a week.” Potter sighs. His hand is reaching for the jar and the glass next to the bedside table between their beds before pouring the water into his glass. He drinks the water like he’s going to die of dehydration. Draco licks his dry lips slowly.

“You said as if there was something else I could do but wait.” Draco sighs tiredly. He swipes the white blanket covering his body and gets up. The young Slytherin man reaches for the leather oxford hidden under the bed and begins to wear his shoes.

“Here,” Potter hands him a glass of water that he used earlier. He pours more water into the cup. Draco presses his lips together saying, “Do you really think I would drink from the same glass with you, Potter?”

“You know that I can feel that you’re thirsty, right?” Potter points his index finger to his temple then at Draco.

“Potter.” Draco sighs. “If you think you can use this power to—”

“Mr. Malfoy! Who said you can leave the bed!” Madame Pomfrey opens the door before he can even put his feet on the ground. She quickly takes long steps to them. Her hands are on her hips, face not pleased. “And you, Mr. Potter, please do something about your hair. Why does it look like that? I know both of you are not in serious condition but stay here for now. Professor McGonagall is coming, so don’t move.” She quickly says what’s in her mind like she doesn’t need to breathe, and it reminds Draco of one of his house elves who worked there before the war…he wonders how she’s doing now.

“Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy.” Professor McGonagall opens the door. She slowly walks with a blasé expression which reminds him of a cat. Draco assumes the professor already knows what happened to them. The new Hogwarts Headmistress squints her eyes at them when she arrives at the foot of their beds, judging.

Draco knows Potter is nervous and a bit guilty right now. Good. Serve him right.

 - - -

 “Soulbonding Spell?” Pansy asks, getting up from Draco’s bed and leaning on one of the bed pole, her legs stretching to touch Draco’s who sits on the other side of the bed.

           “Yes.”

           “I’m also at the scene,” Blaise interrupts from his bed, “But still, how the fuck did potter do that?” He raises his eyebrows and looks at Draco curiously.

           “Potter was brewing a potion next to me in Potion class but then that git’s cauldron suddenly blew up. I waved my wand the same time as him and then…I passed out.” Draco stretches his legs on Pansy’s lap. She pinches his ankle playfully.

           “Cauldron blew up? Are you sure this is not Finnigan’s doing?” Pansy tilts her head.

           “I know, right?” Draco smiles. “To be honest, that explosion was impressive. If it weren’t me being the arse of the joke I would totally laugh.”

           “And that Soulbonding spell thing,” Blaise says, looking weary “Does it mean he can read your mind?”

           “Not really,” Draco stretches then adds, “I don’t really understand but McGonagall said that because of the potion, my magic, and Potter’s magic is binding together simultaneously and turns it into Soulbonding spell. We can’t read each other’s mind, but I can detect his feelings and feel a tad bit of his magic in my body—”

           “Woah, that sounds romantic.” Pansy grins toothily, wriggling her eyebrows at Draco. “Then I guess Potter would definitely detect your feeling for h—”

           “Pan, if you continue, I’d kick you out of my bed.” Draco flushes. Blaise laughs lightly so Draco turns his head to the other boy’s direction and sends him a cold glare as well.

           “Alright, alright. But how long is the effect of this spell? Please don’t say forever.”

           “One week.”

           “A week! That’s seven days.” Pansy grimaces. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

           “I…I guess I have to be.”

           Draco looks out of the window, frowning. A week. He doesn’t know if he is lucky or unlucky, to have a chance to talk with Potter again after his and his mother’s hearings before the Wizengamot.

 * * *

 Draco opens his eyes in the dark. He doesn’t know where he is. He blinks his grey eyes slowly to adjust his sight. He shifts his gaze to look at his feet…he’s currently running right now, panting. But this is not him. Although he can feel the cold air, the pressure rising up from his chest that makes it hard to breathe but this. Is. Not. Him.

While he’s beginning to panic, his arm reaches to touch some kind of trophy. His other arm is holding someone’s frigid body. He can feel everything, but he cannot control anything, not even his body.

As soon as his hand touch the trophy, his body and the other body beside him are sucked into the air. Draco feels nauseous from the abrupt change. This feeling, he’s fairly sure he’s using a portkey, but that is not the only feeling he can perceive; he feels sad, anxious, panic, and pain…

           When Draco opens his eyes again, the portkey leads them to the brighter area. The sounds of drum and people shouting confuse him. People with familiar faces are standing up, clapping. He is not sure but he’s certain he even saw himself hidden in the crowd, but it was a younger version of him.

 People are still crapping when Draco throws himself on the ground to the body beside him. That person in Hufflepuff training shirt is lying on the ground, face blank, no sign of life.

That person is Cedric Diggory.

           “NO! Cedric!” Draco hears himself screaming painfully. Although this is not his voice but now Draco is beginning to gather whose voice it is, whose body it is that he currently intrudes into.

           “Cedric!”

           Draco—Potter howls for the last time before someone is pulling their body from Cedric’s. Their ears are ringing and cannot hear anything. Everything is blurry from the tears that continue pouring from their eyes.

 Draco wakes up with a tear-stained face, heart pounding, and drenching in his own sweat.

             He tries to act normal and smile at Pansy when she asks him again whether he’s going to get breakfast at the hall or not. Draco shakes his head, says goodbye to his friends then walks out of his dorm with fatigue. He languidly gets out of the castle, not sure if the numb feeling inside his body is his or Potter’s, but he genuinely wants it to be gone.

           Draco stops when he sees the lake. He looks around and notices a young man who sits on the ground not far from him. His hair is still dishevelled as much as before (or maybe more dishevelled if that’s possible.) Potter is sitting there, wearing the same hoodies he always wears, his face half-hidden underneath his Gryffindor scarf. Draco walks over there and sits next to him.

           “Not cold, Potter?”

           Potter begins to answer but Draco holds his hand out, saying “You don’t need to answer. I know you are freezing to death. Here.” Draco takes off his gloves and hands them to Potter. He pushed his hands inside his warm coat instead.

           “…How was last night?”  Potter mumbles after they were looking at the lake in silence for a while.

           “I had a nightmare.”

           “I know.” Potter nods tenuously and it reminds Draco of the dream last night. If it were a dream, it would be fine. However, it was a memory, a reality. The thing that Potter has to live with for the rest of his life.

           “Being you is not easy, I guess,” Potter says.

Draco quirks his eyebrow, being him is not easy? What did Potter say? Is he trying to mock Draco for having to see Potter’s memory? He doesn’t understand.

           “Er, what do you mean?”

           “Well, I mean, last night, you and those death eaters — uh, the nightmare we shared.” Potter scratches his cheek awkwardly. Draco glances at his gloves in Potter’s hands.

           “I don’t think we’re sharing the same dream.” Draco tilts his head. “I dream about Cedric.”

           “Oh.” Potter opens his mouth. He knows which part of his memories about Cedric that was seen. He kept seeing it for many countless nights.

And now Draco begins to understand. They were dreaming of each other’s memory.

           “You had my nightmare — my past? Which one? I had a lot of death eaters nightmares that I lost count.” Draco jokes but both he and Potter know it wasn’t a lie.

           “I dreamt of Bellatrix. When she…tortured you.”

           “Oh, that time.” Draco nods. “You’re unlucky. That was one of the worst ones.” Draco recalls the pain and feelings he felt from last night until now. If those are realistic enough to make him sense this numb feeling, then Potter might feel like dying at the moment. Draco felt like he was going to die when Aunt Bellatrix tortured him in the name of practising love and dark magic.

           “Do we have to experience this for six more days? Me dreaming of your past?”

           “Maybe. I don’t know. I hope we don’t. It was painful,” Potter says while looking up at the grey sky. “On the bright side, now I know why you’re like this, and why am I like this.” Potter points at Draco from head to toe then at himself.

           “Like what?”

           “Broken?”

Draco laughs. “You’re nothing but broken, Potter. You’re a bloody war hero.”

           “Yeah, but at what cost?”

           “Hm, I don’t know. I don’t like the terms broken though. It feels like we need fixing. I need no fixing. I’m a Malfoy.” Draco pretends to be fine, even though he knows full well that Potter can feel that it was just an act.

           “How would your good mates act if they know we’re here, licking each other’s wounds.” Draco quirks an eyebrow.

           “I don’t know. It might be fun, not just pain and sadness.” Potter gets up, dusting off the dirt of his pants before lending his hand to Draco. “Come on Malfoy, I know you don’t want your fancy pants ending up with dirt-stains.”

           “That soulbonding spell can tell you that much?”

           “Malfoy, I’ve known you for many years? I don’t need that spell to know this kind of thing.”

 - - -

             They’re sharing the same dream the next night. Both of them were standing in the Hogwarts hallway, warm orange light flickered around the room. Young Draco was standing in front of him and Potter was there, looking up, eyes showing defiance.

           “You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks”

 They didn’t shake each other’s hand in that dream. They couldn’t change the past.

 However, the next morning, Harry holds out his hand at the same spot in their dream.

And Draco takes it.

[hbhtrainees]

SUMMARY: Sanghoon finds a breath of fresh air with Hak Bonghwa’s daughter and HBH producer-in-training, Hak Subin.

SERIES: NEW_DECADE PAIRING: Sanghoon + Subin WORD COUNT: 1.3k  WARNINGS: Swear words!

Sanghoon wouldn’t say that he has the best pokerface, but he surely is better at hiding his emotions than Hak Subin. 

Hak Bonghwa’s only daughter sat in a third chair off to the side while the two main producers at HBH, Fren.z and LeeBoi, worked at the soundboard. Sanghoon was squeezed into the recording booth with Yeetai, Longwei, and Taehyung. Sanghoon didn’t think that chanting one verse together would take this long, but they’ve been recording this same part for thirty minutes. He himself was starting to get agitated, Subin looked straight up homicidal. 

“You guys need more energy.” LeeBoi critiqued into the microphone. Subin snorted. “They’d have more energy if you gave them a break to rest their vocal cords.” Her statement was overheard through the speaker, but neither of the producers acknowledged the commentary.

“Let’s try it from the top. Remember, more energy.” LeeBoi talked over Subin, ignoring her like usual. Subin rolled her eyes and played with the ends of her hair, her frown somehow drooping more than before.

The recording finally ended when Fren.z’s alarm went off. Their time in the recording studio was up. The trainees exited the studio, thanking all three producers as they passed. When Taehyung dipped into a bow for Subin, Fren.z chuckled dryly. “She’s younger than you, Taehyung. No need to break your back in half.” He laughed. Subin narrowed her eyes at the older producer, giving him a look so icy it made Sanghoon’s eyebrow twitch. Taehyung let out a weak chuckle before leading the other boys out of the studio.

“God, they’re awful to her.” Taehyung whispered as soon as they left. “I should have stood up for her, shouldn’t I?” 

“Nah, Subin can fight her own battles.” Longwei reassured his friend, giving the other trainee a clap on the back. A mischievous smirk spread on his face. “I bet she appreciated that adequate bow, though.” 

“Shh.” Taehyung chuckled, rolling his eyes. “I had to show my appreciation somehow.” The four boys made their way to the elevator, taking it back up to Trainee Town to complete their training for the day.

When most of the trainees filed out of the practice rooms, Sanghoon decided to stay behind. Lately the stress of showcases, trainee events, and upcoming debut team announcements has been getting to him. He wanted to take some time to do what he really loved: creating his own music.

He knew that all studios were free after three. He took the elevator down to The Dungeons alone, his bags slung over his shoulder.  He’d only stay until four, then he’d head to the dorms and get some shut eye before another day of practice. 

Sanghoon headed to his favorite recording studio, the Green Room, at the very end of the hall. As he walked down the hallway, he heard a familiar beat coming from the Red Studio. He slowed his pace, wondering if Fren.z or LeeBoi were still here. Sanghoon contemplated turning back just to avoid any awkward encounter with the producers, but then he heard a feminine sounding growl of annoyance. 

The trainee furrowed his eyebrows and glanced into the studio. At the soundboard was Subin, running her hands through her platinum hair. Suddenly, Subin wheeled the chair she was in back, turning around sharply. Sanghoon and Subin made eye contact, both of them jumping in surprise. 

Subin, with a hand still over her racing heart, opened the door.

“Sanghoon, don’t do that again.” Subin sighed, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward ever so slightly into a ghost of a grin. “Sorry… I just…” Sanghoon fumbled for the words. “No worries, man.” Subin shook her head. “I get sketched out after three anyways. Y’know, witching hour and shit.” 

“Yeah,” Sanghoon’s fingers fidgeted with the straps of his bags. He spends so much physical time with Subin that he forgets that they don’t really know each other. At all. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to his boss’s daughter. 

“What were you working on?” Sanghoon asked, his eyes darting to the soundboard that Subin was previously sat at.

“Oh, yeah,” Subin looked over her shoulder at the equipment. “The demo you guys recorded earlier sounded like ass once Tweedle Dick and Tweedle Dumbass layered it onto the backtrack. I’ve been trying to fix it, but they created a monster.” 

Subin looked back and Sanghoon with a small grin on her face. “Wanna hear what I’ve got?” 

Sanghoon felt like rejecting the founder’s daughter was not a good idea, so he nodded. Subin let him step into the studio, offering the spare chair next to her at the soundboard.

“See, this is what it sounded like before I got my grimy little hands on it,” Subin pressed play on her computer. The song that they had recorded earlier sounded so manufactured. So bland. Sanghoon’s dislike seemed to have shown on his face, because Subin clapped her hands together and cackled. 

“See? It’s booty isn’t it?” She asked.

“Yeah, that sucks.” Sanghoon agreed. Subin chuckled before typing on her computer again.

“Alright, but now this,” She pressed play. “Is how I think it should sound.” 

Subin’s version was much better. There was more dimension, more personality. She kept the more messier recordings of them chanting rather than the robotic and uniform chant the other producers preferred. The track sounded exciting and fresh.

Sanghoon tapped his fingers to the beat. As good as it was, it was missing something. “Uh-oh,” Subin turned the volume down. “You don’t like something?” 

“No, no. It sounds great. Really great. But…” Sanghoon tried to search for the words.

“Something’s missing, right?” Subin asked. “Yeah.” Sanghoon nodded. “I think you need some like… Adlibs or something.” 

Subin nodded. Her eyes darted to the empty recording booth, then back at Sanghoon. “You’re a rapper, right?” She asked. “Yeah.” “Do you think you could improv some cool adlibs?” She asked, a smirk appearing on her face.

Sanghoon’s plan to stay until four was tossed out the window once he and Subin started bouncing ideas off one another. Even if Sanghoon noticed how late it was, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. He really enjoyed spending time with Subin. She was chill and took things so simply. Being around Subin was like taking a break from reality, and Sanghoon wasn’t ready to return back just yet. It was nearing five in the morning when Subin finally recognized how late they had stayed. 

“Holy hell, look at the time.” Subin gasped, holding up her cellphone. “We should probably go. You have practice in a few hours.” 

“Don’t remind me.” Sanghoon groaned. “Hey, debut announcements come out soon. Hopefully you’ll only be a trainee for a little while longer.” Subin comforted him. “Just enjoy the ride. Soon you’ll be looking back on your trainee days with nostalgia.” 

Sanghoon nodded, taking in her advice. He was just about to leave when a realization hit him.

“Hey, are you walking home alone?” Sanghoon paused in the doorway. Subin chuckled. “Do I really look that weak?” “No, but I’ll still walk you to the subway or something.” Sanghoon shifted his bag awkwardly. 

The producer pouted. “You’re cute, Sanghoon. But don’t worry about it. I’m ordering an Uber to come pick me up in a few. It’ll be right outside the company, don’t you worry.” “Okay. Cool.” Sanghoon nodded, shifting his weight on his feet. “I guess I’ll see you tomor- in a few hours, then?” 

Subin grinned. “Yeah. I’ll see you soon. Sweet dreams.” “You too.” Sanghoon smiled before closing the door to the studio.  He felt as if he had just jumped between worlds. Everything felt a little dazed to Sanghoon as he made it to the elevators, exiting the building on the main floor. As he crossed the street to the subway station, he couldn’t help but daydream about making regular late night visits to the recording studios.

[lookwhatilost]

lmao Christ I found the peach post abt my first date w andrew and it’s such a doozy

why did I even keep talking to him after this

this is long as fuck and also super nsfw but my fucking GODDD is it a ride

okay so I met andrew when he was bartending at social still a while back. hes p much worked in every bar in downtown Bethlehem – like, the tapas bar where I used to go w ian all the time, “nothing good ever happens at” rippers, he used to barback alongside w jus at steelgaarden, slung margaritas at urbano, and plied me w spiked shamrock shakes at mccarthys – so we’ve run into one another multiple times as he’s bounced around the north side. I made a joke once abt how he spawns in every bar and he thought it was funny

so he randomly asks me on a date over messenger and i accept. like, I’m still in contact w Justin but whatever undiagnosed mental illness he has is becoming more apparent and distressing w each passing day and it’s becoming more obvious that he intends to do nothing abt it. so I’m not rly sure abt what to do w that and those feelings and everything but it’s definitely time to start exploring other avenues even if it’s jst for the sake of palette cleansing.

he wants to go see this all female performative of waiting for godot at the community college and I think that sounds cool. it’s creative, it’s different, we can go out after it. I get home a little early and tell him we can hang out my place for a little beforehand and get the “getting to know u better” awkward talk out of the way before we go over. and he’s obviously very nervous but he’s sweet, yknow

we go over to the community college and the play is weird and long. the intermission is at 9 and we leave during that bc we dnt wanna be stuck there until almost midnight. so we go to TR (while tommy is working bc I’m Bitch) and chat and drink and we’re hitting it off very well. he’s cool! he’s smart! he’s funny! he’s weird as hell but in a good way! it’s not jus lvl Fireworks but I’m happy and I’m distracted. We hop to stoke and stick around until last call and grab a 6 pack to take back to my apartment

I literally never do shit like this but I have no problem w him coming over there and sleeping over bc, hey, I’m Definitely Going To Have A Second Date W Him. it rly seemed like this could’ve gone somewhere. so I thought

and what follows is nsfw bc I cant stress enough that this is basically my version of cat person

like listen. intimacy w justin was very hit or miss in terms of him being too rough or something awkward happening outside of that. and it was disappointing sometimes but it was something I could overlook bc it was someone I was fucking over the moon for. and those awkward moments were basically my benchmark for what bad sex looked like

I dnt think ive ever been more incorrect abt anything in my life

this guy is jst. the absolute worst. like first of all I take his shirt off and he has fucking dermal piercings on his hips and I’m immediately rly turned off by it but it’s like. ok. if I can overlook the stupid “please kill me” bullseye on justins chest I can overlook this. but he’s jst. so. so. LOUD. he won’t stop moaning like some girl in a porno. and dirty talk. so much. i HATE that shit so much it’s so stupid. like SHUT UP. i wanted to get a scarf out of my closet and gag him not even bc I was trying to be kinky or whatever like I jst wanted the fucking NOISE to end

he won’t stop yanking at my hair which i also hate. and he’s saying weird shit abt how he wants me to dominate him (literally went into my nightstand, took out my vibrator and told me to use it on him and I was like BITCH NO THIS IS SO WEIRD) and jst. I’m in this situation and actively hating every minute of this but I feel like it’s gone too far for me to back out.

but this jst keeps going. for literal hours and I’m so fucking tired at this point but he’s jst. not finishing or anything. i dnt even know how. so I’m basically jst going along w it waiting for it to fucking end and in the middle of this shitshow he blurts out “i love you” which was such a... bad moment for obvious rzns but that’s the only time someone has ever said that to me out loud. and I was like “shhh dnt say that” and he repeated it and jst kept repeating it throughout the hellish course of the night. and I’m jst sitting here wondering how this went from amazing date to the honest to god worst mistake of my life. thinking abt why I’m so concerned w being nice to this guy and not hurting his feelings when I’m jst in literal hell

it’s finally fucking over and I fall asleep. my alarm wakes me up at 7:30 bc I have to work but he’s not in my bed anymore and I hear someone fussing in the kitchen & what I think is a cork popping but I dnt rly know. and he comes back into my room and says that he went to do me a favor and cleaned my kitchen up a little. but the place is messier than it was last night which is?¿

at this point evan comes out of his bedroom and complains to us abt the horrible day he had at work and Andrew says to him “you sound like you could use a drink!” But ev recoils bc it’s so early and he asks Andrew if he’s drunk & leaves to run errands. his reaction was a nervous “no” but he mixes something anyway and he’s like “this is for you babe” and it’s like. disgusting. it’s gin, razzmatazz, triple sec, rumchata, and coconut water. stronger than rocket fuel and not at all pleasant tasting. I reject the nasty cocktail and he slams it down. I tell him I have to work and he needs to leave. But he’s like “I wanna keep hanging out!” And he will jst. Not leave.

he makes another drink for himself and I see the gin is empty which is weird bc it was half full? and then it clicked that he was probably in my kitchen drinking all my gin while I was asleep. and it’s Hendricks. It’s expensive as hell and it’s also almost 90 proof. so he’s wasted to the point of delirium and I have to call into work to babysit him until he’s sober enough to go home

so I’m waiting for him to sober up and he keeps trying to initiate more sex and I keep rebuffing it and he takes his pants off anyway and jst. passes out w his entire naked ass out on the couch

so im jst sitting there for a little while questioning my life choices when ev comes back around 2:45 and is like. what in the fuck is going on and I tell him that Andrew decided to get morning drunk and things got weird. and he’s like “there is a half naked man on the couch and I’m going to do something abt it if you’re not” so ev yells “are your pants off?” and wakes him up and i tell him that I need to start my day and it’s probably time for him to go. he refuses, say he wants to hand out more. evan gets our swifter out of the closet and starts jabbing him w it, saying “GET OUT” so he finally does

he came over at 5. he left at 3 the nxt afternoon. he left his underwear on my coffee table and his flannel in my room (which I am stealing, not the underwear tho) and the second he left ev sprayed our couch down w Lysol and was jst losing his shit laughing at me

but all and all. turns out you can have a tinder horror story without tinder as well! who’d have known!

[thoughts-of-a-bibleophile]

AGH I’M A DAY LATE BUT WHATEVER

So, I guess I’m doing this Lukanette MonthWeek thing because I like to make my life harder and like to write fics on top of all the other things going on right now. But I digress.

Honestly, I only like certain parts of this fic and I’m not totally satisfied with it, but I have a bunch of other work to do and will continue to pick at this until I throw it away if I don’t post it now, so, here we are.

Prompt: Autumn Magic (I...don’t know how much I stuck to that prompt, frankly, but I tried, I swear.)

Word count: 3111

I’m going to add a summary for this later agh.

- - -

For as long as she could remember, autumn always began with a rainstorm.

Dark clouds would roll in, low and heavy with the threat of rain. The streets would clear as the storm began, the echo of thunder and the flash of lightning common to all who had lived through a Parisian autumn. Despite the dreary skies, buildings would be lit up in gold and bronze as people huddled in warm cafes and boulangeries while waiting out the storm. The hustle and bustle always reminded the Dupain-Cheng family that autumn was the beginning of busy season, for soon they would have catering orders and party platters to prepare for as the holidays began.

A girl stood behind the counter of her bakery, watching passing cars kick up sprays of water as they drove by, seeing people hurry by in the rain as they sought cover.

Normally, Marinette loved the start of the season, even if the rain made it a bit more difficult to get to school, because it reminded her of the holidays and spending time with her family as they prepared for holiday orders. Hot drinks, warm sweaters, video games with her family as they waited out the rain – it was hard not to like autumn.

Yet, this time, autumn’s annual rain just reminded her of a year ago. Of loss, of what she had not been able to save and of what she had never achieved.

A black umbrella sat upstairs against the wall by the couch, tucked away, but not forgotten.

She had meant to return it. Really, she had. She had brought it out of her room and everything and kept it next to her things to remind her to bring it with to school. But the time had just never been right and it didn’t help that, for the longest time, she hadn’t been able to get two straight words out of her mouth when she was around him.

Things were better now, of course. She had stopped putting him on a pedestal – well, okay, he was still on one, but it wasn’t nearly as high – and she would definitely say they were at least friends.

Yet, she couldn’t help but remember that day just a year ago, when the world had seemed to stop for a moment under the cover of a black umbrella. The day where the weight of an entire destiny had fallen onto her shoulders and her heart had been forever changed.

Marinette shook herself out of her thoughts as she heard the bell to the bakery open. You’re being ridiculous, she scolded herself. Thoughts of jade green eyes and teasing smiles were shoved away as she switched to customer service mode and addressed her latest customer.

“Welcome to the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie and- Luka?” She halted her regular greeting as she realized who was standing in the doorway to the bakery.

Luka Couffaine stood in the entryway of the bakery, sopping wet and looking a bit like he had just taken a dive in the Seine. Marinette glanced out the door to see that the rain had gotten worse and was now coming down in sheets. Outside, she saw his delivery bike tucked under the awning in an attempt to keep it dry.

“Hey Marinette,” he said with a smile, seemingly not fazed that he could very well catch a cold if he didn’t dry off soon.

“Were you actually riding around in that storm?” she asked incredulously, already searching the counter for a towel for him.

Luka shrugged sheepishly. “I was heading home from my last delivery. I hope you don’t mind me stopping in here; I just need to warm up for a second before going out there again.”

“You’re going to get sick if you stay out there! It’s raining like crazy right now,” she said with a frown as her search only yielded small hand towels for cleaning, nothing that would help much with his overall drenched state.

“I’m only a little ways away from the Liberty. I don’t want to be a bother.”

Marinette eyed his appearance again, noticing how his normal blue jacket was soaking wet and, frankly, not doing a very good job of keeping him dry. She made a mental note to design him a proper rain jacket when she got back to her sewing machine.

“Of course you’re not a bother! My parents should be back downstairs in a few minutes anyway and then we can go get you dried off and wait the storm out upstairs.”

He opened his mouth as if he was going to protest again and she popped a pain au chocolate into his mouth instead.

He blinked, then took the pastry out and gave her an exasperated look as if saying that bread was not going to win this conversation.

“You do know that once my mom sees you, she’s going to demand that you stay here until the storm is over, right?” Marinette reminded him with a wry look.

This summer, Marinette had invited Luka over with Juleka and Rose to try out some new designs for Kitty Section. Sabine Cheng had met Luka and took an instant liking to him, treating him as her own son. She showered him with pastries and always worried over him whenever she saw him. With that thought, Luka had no doubt that Marinette was right and that she would fret over him as soon as she saw him.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” he said. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“I’m sure the pain was what convinced you,” she joked.

He took a bite and considered the taste, even though he had had dozens of their pastries before. “Of course. You do have the best boulangerie in the city, after all.”

Marinette smiled at his words. Though she had heard others say the same thing, the praise felt a little extra special to hear from Luka because she knew he really meant it.

The back door to the bakery swung open and her father and mother walked in, talking about an order of macarons for the mayor’s birthday, when they noticed him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng,” he greeted politely, still dripping wet and leaving small puddles in the entryway.

Sabine rushed over to him and fretted about, fluttering around him like a mother hen. “Oh my goodness, you’re soaking wet!” she exclaimed. “Marinette, bring him upstairs and get him dried off. And get him something warm to drink! The poor boy’s going to catch a cold in that state!”

Marinette gave him a look that said “I told you so” and simply pulled him upstairs.

After a few moments of searching, she pulled out a few fluffy towels from the closet and handed them to him. She then began to look for the kettle for water.

“Tea?” she called from the kitchen.

“Sure,” he replied from the living room, where he had bundled himself in the towels and was drying off his hair.

Marinette filled the kettle and dropped two teabags into a couple of mugs. While she waited, she tried to find something to busy herself with but found her eyes wandering over to him in worry.

Luka looked to be warming up at least. He was no longer dripping wet, just damp, for lack of a better word. His blue hair was messier than she had ever seen and seemed to be frizzing a bit, making it look fluffier than normal. His brow was furrowed as he concentrated on drying off, his lip between his teeth as he focused on wringing out one of his sleeves in a towel. It was different than the quiet, unruffled version of him she normally saw. Between the hair and his expression, he looked really cute like this, she thought idly.

The kettle screech jolted her out of her thoughts and she realized she had been staring at him for longer than she had intended and that he was now also looking at her and smiling in that cute way and oh god look away the tea, the tea—

She dropped her eyes, her face burning with embarrassment, and focused all her energy on pouring the hot water carefully into the two mugs. It would be just my luck to spill the tea and make even more of a fool of myself in front of him, she grumbled to herself.

She placed the mugs on a tray and brought them over along with a jar of honey and spoons. As she walked over, she thought of cool thoughts to try and calm her burning cheeks. Ice cream, icicles, ice water, ice skating—

Memories of her first time ice skating flashed through her mind and it only made her blush more. He had been wonderful at skating and made the day a million times better than she thought it would be. Yet she had been a blundering fool trying to impress Adrien. Why am I always such a mess around him? she thought despairingly.

Thankfully, the tea arrived without incident and she perched on the couch next to him with her mug in hand, trying to push all embarrassing thoughts from her mind.

It’s just Luka. Stop being weird! It’s just Luka—

“What are you thinking of?”

She squeaked and looked up at him in surprise. Though a bit disheveled from the towels, he looked calm and curious as usual. Frankly, he looked cuter with the fluffier hair, and a part of her wondered how it would feel between her fingers—

“I, uh, the rain,” she stammered out, throwing out the first thing she could think of and throwing out all thoughts of Luka’s hair from her mind.

He looked out the window at the rain cascading down the windowpanes, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I haven’t seen a storm this bad in years,” he mused. “Even last year’s wasn’t this intense.”

Marinette’s gaze drifted over to the black umbrella against the wall and she felt herself deflate slightly at the memory. It had only been a single moment of a single day, a small act of kindness that most of the time meant nothing but had meant everything that day. Now, though, the umbrella was more of a sour reminder than anything else.

“Hey.”

Luka’s voice was soft as he pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced up at him and grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, I just got lost in thought, I guess,” she explained, putting her mug of tea down and wringing her hands in her lap, trying to think of a way to change the subject.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” His tone wasn’t accusatory or angry, just matter of fact and maybe a little sad. Sad that she still had this stupid crush? Sad that she was sad? Honestly, sometimes he was so hard to read.

“I—" she began, feeling pathetic that she kept thinking of her old crush so often when he was clearly interested in someone else. She sighed in resignation. “Yeah. I’m sorry. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Don’t apologize for feeling your emotions, Marinette,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Talk about Adrien with you? That sounds like a recipe for disaster, she thought. But the words came out anyway.

“I just feel … stupid, I guess. I feel like I wasted all this time only for it to not matter in the end because I was never able to even talk about it with anyone aside from Alya, let alone him, and now he’s dating Kagami and I should be happy for him because they’re my friends, but—” She felt her throat tighten and she tried to swallow around the emotions clawing there. “I know I should be over it by now, but I’m not and I just feel ridiculous for not being over it because not only has it been months, but they’re both my friends and I should, no I need to be happy for them and—”

She groaned at her babbling and covered her face with her hands as the words settled between them. It had been an entire summer since Adrien had made his feelings clear and an entire summer of not seeing him to heal her heart, yet Marinette felt all of the hurt from last spring stab at her chest and she just wished she had never started talking about it. Wasn’t time supposed to heal all wounds? Why couldn’t she just get over it? Why did she have to say all of this in front of Luka of all people?

She felt long fingers grip her wrists and gently pull her hands away from her face. She kept her head down and eyes squeezed tight because she had to get herself under control dang it—

“Marinette, you’re being too hard on yourself. No one is expecting you to just be over someone you cared about for so long after a few months. It’s okay to still feel things and not be over it. You can’t just flip a switch and not have feelings anymore. You have to let yourself heal.”

She opened her eyes and searched his, wondering how he could say he was so bad with words and advice when he always seemed to know what to say to her. Even without his music, his voice, in all its quiet intensity, was a melody all its own that always seemed to soothe her and make things better.

Marinette’s lips lifted in a half-smile as she looked into his blue eyes. They reminded her of clear summer skies and quiet melodies that floated along the Seine. Of relaxing afternoons on the water and meaningless conversation that meant nothing but also something. Whether it was through music or his own words or just his mere presence, she wondered how she would have survived the summer after everything had happened without him.

“You’re such a liar, Luka Couffaine,” she said softly. He blinked at her in confusion. “You say you’re bad with words, yet you always know just what to say to make me feel better.”

Luka smiled, a slow, lovely thing that made his eyes shine bright and she was suddenly reminded of how close they were and how he still held her wrists in his hands.

“Thank you for always being there for me,” she added. She looked down, almost bashfully. “I don’t know what I would have done without you or Alya this summer.”

“You would have been okay, I think. You’re one of the strongest people I know, Marinette,” he insisted, that smile still on his face making her heart do funny things. “Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody.”

She felt her face heat up again at those words and instead looked down at their hands because it was much easier to focus on that than on those blue eyes that were too blue and those words that made her feel a million different things.

It had been months since he had confessed his feelings to her, yet he had never demanded an answer or his affections to be returned. For so long she had been fixated, blinded by her crush, though a part of her heart had always wondered. A small space had been opened up and set aside for Luka and the last few months had only made that space grow, with flowers and music notes quietly there, a sweet melody, his melody for her, always playing.

She flipped her hands over so that her palms rested against his and felt how warm his hands were in hers. It was as if he had never been outside in the pouring rain. Her fingers curled around his and he squeezed her hands softly. She distantly noticed that the rain had let up considerably and that she should probably be mentioning this so that he could go home. But after this, she just wanted him to stick around for a little bit longer.

“Are you still feeling cold?” she asked, looking up from their interlocked hands.

“I’ve never felt better,” he said quietly, his hair still frizzy and fluffy and a half-smile on his face that made butterflies flutter in her stomach.

“I’ll be there for you” she remembered him saying all those months ago, when she had been an idiot and confessed everything in that stupid video that Adrien had never even seen. He had been there for her through all of the heartbreak that she had felt when realizing that Adrien liked someone else and when he had started dating Kagami. He had held her and comforted her on that disastrous day when even more responsibility had fallen onto her shoulders and Master Fu and his memories had been lost and she had just been so tired of the world needing her and … he had been a rock against the waves. He had been there through it all, never pushing her for attention or asking for her affection to be returned – just a solid, comforting presence there through the good and the bad. He deserved more than just being a shoulder to cry on. He meant more to her than just being a shoulder to cry on.

She looked into his eyes that reminded her of summer and songs and felt the aching part of her heart that had been torn for months begin to mend itself and that small part of her heart for him grow wider still.

For her and her family, autumn was always a time of change. The leaves changed color, the temperature changed, the styles of Paris changed, the bakery’s menu changed with the season.

Last year, her heart had been changed for the better and her life had changed, too. An entire year had passed with discovered destinies and new crushes and heartbreak and lost love. She figured this autumn was no different, that it was time to change again.

Marinette smiled up at him, feeling warm and fluttery when he smiled back with sincerity and kindness, and let those aching memories from the past rest in her mind.

“I know the storm is letting up now and I should really send you home, but, um, do you mind staying?” She could only imagine how red her face was right now. “You can even stay for dinner, if you want, I’m sure my parents won’t mind.”

“Dinner would be great,” he said.

When Marinette saw over his shoulder that the rain had stopped and the sun was shining through the clouds, she knew that everything would be okay with him by her side.

[fameplagued]

❛ harry styles, 21, cismale, he/him ❜ was that EZRA WARD i just saw hurrying across the quad? you’d think they would know what happens when a JUNIOR is late to class. then again, the MUSIC MAJOR has been known to be pretty HEDONISTIC. maybe being so CHARISMATIC helps keep them out of trouble. i heard they aren’t an angel, though, and that they are BISEXUAL and love RISKY/PUBLIC SEX + MAKING AMATEUR PORN. 

ayyye friends, i’m happy to be here! i’m g, here to introduce my ugly son, he’s a mix of a few different characters i’ve played before but never quite like this so i’m hype :~) 

VISAGE: HARRY STYLES (MOSTLY CIRCA LATE 2014 & 2015 bc long hair)

VOICE-CLAIM (SPEAKING ACCENT & SINGING): HARRY STYLES

OTHER KINKS: CHOKING, ORGASM CONTROL/DENIAL, BEGGING, WORSHIP (REC)(GIV), PUNISHMENT + REWARD, ANAL, SPANKING, MARKING, BITING, HAIR PULLING, RIMMING (REC)(GIV), DADDY KINK, SIZE DIFFERENCE, VOYEURISM,  CLOTHES ON, GROUP SEX, SEXUAL PAIN, ORDERS (REC)(GIV), 

(ASK ABOUT OTHERS)

CANON TATTOOS (*MOSTLY)

born / raised just outside of manchester, england. comes from a wealthy yet extremely neglectful upbringing. his mother is english, his father is american, meaning since he was born in england, he’s of of dual citizenship. his family moved to his father’s home state of pennsylvania when he was 14, which is when he first starter his youtube channel

ok so a big thing is that ezra’s slow but currently steady rise to fame within the music industry has been alarmingly quick and that fact has shaped a lot of his personality; think justin bieber or shawn mendes with their gaining an initial fanbase and then a loyal following via starting out on youtube / other social media outlets as a young teenager, only with a much messier, Rockstar™ persona and you have ezra ward

there’s a pretty distinct difference between the version of himself that much of his dedicated fanbase perceptions are based on, and the Real Him. in the media he’s gradually becoming more of a household name for being a musician with a mostly positive message, an inclusive fanbase, a charming personality and being an all around humble, approachable, likable young guy

in his personal life, things are a bit,, different. he’s a hedonist, through and through, in that his pursuit of pleasure ranks far above everything else on his priority list. he’s also extremely sybaritic meaning crazy self indulgent when it comes to luxury, and in his late teens when he had the world at his fingertips, it was all about having the Best everything (mini bars, expensive cars, the good champagne, n private planes- ok i’ll shut up now no one needs my bad 1d references rn)

so basically he spent ages 17-19 as a touring musician after forming a backing band built of some his closest friends from high school, all the while earning his associates in arts in music through an online program; balancing social media as a full time job, getting to perform live in any kind of larger capacity, and still doing well in college posed quite a challenge, especially as he became more focused on the rockstar lifestyle and less on school

still, he never stopped wanting to learn as much as he possibly could about music, determined to become a master of his craft, so he earned his degree and kept hungry for knowledge. after a near-overdose the summer after he turned 19 however, his parents and their what felt to him like faux-concern at the time eventually talked him into putting touring and gaining celebrity status on the back burner for a while

in exchange for a proposed change in habits and lifestyle, they offered to pay for him to apply for and attend the prestigious university of his choice so he could get his bachelor’s degree in music theory, something he agreed to after heavy deliberation, and only after he had a personal realization about just how much the limelight was getting to him, the brighter it became did he decide it was for the best that he stepped back from it to focus on school

choosing college over touring /  growing the band’s popularity cost him a few members of his backing band / friends who had no interest in ‘waiting around for him to finish getting some stupid degree’ and went on to pursue other projects, which meant he no longer had the same support system in that group of friends that he’d become so used to, and that lead him to seek out a new one almost as soon as he was enrolled at northridge as a freshman: he immediately pledged omega pi  (bc we all know what a frat boy harry looked like at 19, hello, i’m not passing that up), finding that he fit right in with its reputation for being full of guys who were heavily focused on partying, and now that he’s a junior he’s in charge of marketing & recruitment :~)

his appetite for pleasure & luxury coupled with still considering himself a rich, successful musician and just being an incredibly sexually fueled person in general makes for a really delicious and dangerous mix ngl and so far in his 21 short years he’s lived a pretty Wildt life, even while at college

he hasn’t released anything music-wise for the couple of years he’s been at university, but he wants 22 (he turns that soon hi he’s an aquarius ass bitch) to be the year that changes, where he delves back into it and truly becomes the artist he was ~destined to be~ or whateva

frequently considers whether or not he made the right choice in essentially choosing college over being an artist / celebrity for the time being, and wonders if dropping out would be the better option (esp bc he thinks he only has so much Time anyway, more info below), but always talks himself out of it

is Firmly Set on the idea he’s going to be part of the 27 club (my boi is already almost 22 like :/ excuse u sir, snap out of that? someone give him a reason to live lmfao no i’m kidding i promise)

has an underlying hopelessly romantic side / has had a lot of either toxic or very intense relationships / has hurt & been hurt by a lot of people, so he has an extreme aversion to emotional attachment and falling in love / prefers casual sex / thinks he’ll never have a long term relationship again (yikes ik like hi get some therapy babe)

he’s reckless, impulsive, can be incredibly domineering, drinks too much, fucks too much (if that’s possible), and (drugs tw) does way too much coke for fun and too much adderall for studying, definitely every bit the ~tortured artist~ even though most of his issues are rooted in like, mommy/daddy issues and (homophobia tw) knowing his parents wouldn’t accept or support him any longer if they knew that he was bisexual

to sum it all up, he’s here for a good time, not a long time, and while he is here, he wants to learn all that he possibly can about music because to him it’s basically the meaning of life ok

that’s?? pretty much all i have for now, i will probably update this again at some point but i don’t want to make it too long because i definitely want to develop him within this group as i go along and besides it was just TIME for me to get something up

i’ll have a connections page up soon but some ideas off the top of my head are: best friends (platonic or otherwise), fwb, exes on good or bad terms, someone who also grew up in pennsylvania / maybe knows him from high school?, enemies w/ benefits, hookups via sorority/frat parties, professors he’s earned ~extra credit~ with or whateva, someone who was a fan before he came to northridge but now they lowkey hate him, someone who’s still a fan, fwb ft. one-sided crush, classmates, etc ! 

[tabletopmonsteroftheweek]

Monster of the Week Mystery: Michigan- Report from Hell

Oh man i’ve been wanting to write this one for some time, and finally I have the free time to do so

This is a monster of the week version of the infamous game Michigan: Report from Hell. I’ll try my best to represent the game as best as possible while also allowing the players to explore. Also, it’s never stated where in michigan the game takes place, but because of epilogue where they go to a lighthouse, for this it’ll be set in Cheboygan.

Concept

A strange fog has surrounded Cheboygan, Michigan, making it near impossible to see through it. Everyone has taken shelter in their homes or buildings they were occupying before it arrived, however, those caught outside have turned into strange, flesh-like monsters with gaping mouths [some on their faces while others located in their lower regions]. Because of this, the Mackinac Bridge is closed off until it passes. The cause? The scientist Dr. O'Conner has created a bio-weapon in order to please the United States Military and tested it on a young man. The man, however, escaped the facility and hid in a warehouse, inadvertently causing the mist and monster transformation with his presence. 

Hook

The players hear of the strange mist surrounding the town, and how the Mackinac Bridge has closed down.

Countdown

Day: The mist has appeared, with only silhouettes of the monsters seen within.

Shadows: The monsters multiply, killing everyone in the Cheboygan  Public Library except for Nina.

Sunset: Everyone attempts to reach an evacuation point near the Cheboygan County Airport-Slh, while the news team continues to investigate.

Dusk: Civilians reach the evacuation point, however, they’re surrounded by the monsters. Only Brisco and the cameraman survive with the news crew.

Nightfall: Those that survived the onslaught at the evac point are hiding out in a nearby building. The cameraman makes it to the building.

Midnight: Everyone in Cheboygan is killed and devoured by the monsters.

Threats

Phenomenon: The Mist

Type: Teratogen (motivation: to turn creatures and people into monsters)

Description: A strange mist that's covering the entirety of Cheboygan, Michigan. It's incredibly hard to see through, making some townsfolk not attempt to travel through it. Some are persistent, however, and will drive blindly through. Because of this, there are some accidents seen on the roads, blocking some streets. Those that venture out will have a chance to turn into a monster or be killed by one.

Power:

Monster transformation- Those that walk through the mist has a chance to turn into one of those creatures. It’s unknown how its doing it, but its speculated from some of the news crew that inhaling the mist could be the cause. It hasn’t been tested yet, though.

Hunters that aren’t the monsterous or divine have the chance of becoming one of these monsters. Should they venture outside without a ventilation mask, they must roll Act Under Pressure.

On a 10+, they aren’t affected by the mist.

On a 7-9, they are affected, however they can resist the effects. If they chose to resist the effects, they will have to roll Act Under Pressure again the next time the venture out. If they choose to turn into the monster, they will change their type into the Monsterous type and will gain the traits listed below. They take 2 harm magic ignore armor during the transformation but will gain experience for taking it. [1 to 2 experience, up to the keeper]

On a miss, they slowly start to become one. They take 2 harm magic ignore armor and change their type to the Monsterous type. If they die when they take that 2 harm, instead of turning into a monsterous type they instead become one of the threats in the mystery/session/campaign. 

Weakness:

Killing or containing The Strange Man. The Strange Man’s effects can be stalled by keeping him in a solid containment unit, where the mist won’t continue to spread. Killing The Strange Man will also end it, but it's messier. Stopping the mist from spreading will not kill the monsters present- it just makes it easier to see and deal with them.

Customs:

Monsterous type: The Flesh Beast

Curse: Feed [Flesh, blood, human meat]

Natural attacks: Teeth (3 harm intimate) + ignore armor OR additional 1 harm

Moves:

Preternatural Speed

Unquenchable Vitality

Unnatural Appeal

Claws of the Beast

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

Minion: The Strange Man [Identified as Anthony Cipolla]

Type: Cultist (motivation: to save their own skin at any cost)

Description: A young man, possibly in his 20s, in a ripped white shirt, torn jeans, and barefooted. His face looks dirty and clawed up, hair disheveled, and wearing broken glasses. His fingernails are caked in blood, suggesting he gave himself those claw marks. He seems to have lost his mind, ranting and screaming.

He will run up to the hunters and any news reporters following them, asking them random things, and asking where Dr. O'Conner is. No matter who answers him, he will scream and run away from them. It’s almost impossible to convince him to do anything. He will scream about making the pain stop, about the weird “demons” that surround him, about Dr. O’Conner, and any kind of nonsense.

Anytime he receives pain, he will run away instead of attacking. He will only attack should someone grab him, but once he’s freed he’ll run again.

Supernatural powers: His very existence is creating the strange mist that’s covering the town. He himself doesn’t have any other kind of powers. While his body creates the mist, its also giving him great pain to the point where his mind snapped. 

Attacks:

Clawing [1 harm close]

Slapping/struggling [0 harm]

Weakness: He’s still human, after all.

Harm: 7

Custom move:

Should the hunters choose to kill him instead of containing him, he will morph into a massive pile of mutated flesh. It will then explode, covering anyone close to him with the gore. This can trigger a monster transformation listed in The Mist’s powers above.

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

Minion: The Flesh Monsters

Type: Brute (motivation: to intimidate and attack)

Description: Humans that were turned into monsters by The Mist. They always appear mutilated, with a giant mouth either on their head or their lower regions. Their limbs are twisted and contorted, and their faces always looked pained. 

[One of these monsters will be identified as one of the newcasters that was with Brisco and the camera man. Her name was Pamela Martel]

Attacks:

Bite (2 harm intimate ignore armor)

Harm: 8 

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

Bystander: The Cameraman

Type: Witness (motivation: to reveal information)

Description: A mute cameraman that works for ZaKa TV. He mostly keeps to himself but will reveal footage of the monster that killed Pamela when he was out on the streets. He’s immune to the monster-transformation effects. He will join the hunters alongside Brisco mostly just to make sure his fellow sound guy doesn’t get himself killed. He’s with Brisco and Ann in downtown cheboygan, or where the hunters first enter the town. 

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

Bystander: Jean-Phillppe Brisco

Type: Witness (motivation: to reveal information)

Description: The sound operator for ZaKa TV. He’s brash, loud, flirtatious around women, but panics real bad when monsters are around. He was there with The Cameraman when Pamela was killed and turned into a monster. He does not like ZaKa TV’s chief, Debora, and thinks that she’s helping the monsters take over by sending out the reporters.

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

Bystander: Ann Anderson

Type: Victim (motivation: to put themselves in danger)

Description: One of the reporters for ZaKa TV. She can be found in downtown Cheboygan with Brisco and The Cameraman. very flighty and spacy. She doesn’t have a lot of information but will point you to ZaKa TV studio. She will be attacked by a monster.

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

Bystander: Carly Reis

Type: Victim (motivation: to put themselves in danger)

Description: One of the reporters for ZaKa TV. She just arrived at the Cheboygan library. If the hunters let Brisco and The Cameraman [and Ann if she survived the attack], she will relay that this is one of the few safe spots that the monsters can’t get in... until one gets in, of course. She will return to ZaKa TV if she survives a monster attack in the library.

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

Bystander: Justine Rhoades

Type: Victim (motivation: to put themselves in danger)

Description: One of the reporters for ZaKa TV. She’s with the group going to the airport to get more information on the situation. She won’t go back to ZaKa TV unless Brisco and the Cameraman is with the party. Otherwise, she’ll die to one of the monsters

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

Bystander: Paula Orton

Type: Victim (motivation: to put themselves in danger)

Description: One of the reporters for ZaKa TV. She’s inside the lighthouse, trying to figure out how to start up the light.

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

Bystander: Mark Bockwinkle

Type: Victim (motivation: to put themselves in danger)

Description: One of the reporters for ZaKa TV. He’s the only male reporter in ZaKa TV. He can be found outside the warehouse, hiding behind some crates. He heard some weird sounds within the warehouse, but as he was about to investigate, some of those monsters leaped at him, forcing him to hide.

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

Bystander: Nina Valkov 

Type: Innocent (motivation: to do the right thing)

Description: Nina is trapped in the Cheboygan Public Library due to her fearing the monsters outside. She will help out as much as she can inside the library with their phones, however, she will outright refuse to leave. After witnessing the monsters massacre the people in the library, she’ll be hiding in a supply closet with a vacuum as her weapon.

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

Bystander: Debora Flair 

Type: Official (motivation: to be suspicious)

Description: The chief of ZaKa TV. She will send out reporters all through Cheboygan to get to the bottom of this mystery. She’s cold and uncaring, viewing the reporters are just replaceable cogs to her studio. She will tell the hunters to leave should they come to ZaKa TV without the Cameraman and/or Brisco. She doesn’t have a lot of information, but the studio has been able to keep the monsters out so far. 

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

Location: ZaKa TV Studio

Type: Crossroads (motivation: to bring people, and things, together)

Description: A large news station ran by Debora. Any of the news reporters the hunters saved will be here. They have a wide range of supplies, from cameras to boom mics, to even tasers and some self-defense equipment. Debora refuses to share the equipment with the hunters unless convinced. 

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

Location: Downtown Cheboygan

Type: Den (motivation: to harbor monsters)

Description: The downtown section of Cheboygan, and where the players will first drive to. It’s filled with closed stores and buildings. While the place is running rampant with flesh monsters, three people seem to have survived so far outside: The Cameraman, Brisco, and Ann.

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

Location: Cheboygan Public Library

Type: Prison (motivation: to constrain and prevent exit)

Description: A public library filled with several people hiding out from the mist, including Carly and Nina. Eventually, two people inside the library transform into a monster and, due to the locks on the doors, prevent those inside from escaping.

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

Location: Cheboygan Lighthouse

Type: Wilds (motivation: to contain hidden things)

Description: The lighthouse located on the pier at the lake. Paula somehow managed to get her receiver to be in contact with a united states military general, who is asking her to turn on the lighthouse so they can start evacuating the civilians. The general will also mention that once the civilians are evacuated, they’ll blast the town to kill off all the monsters.

Should the players manage to convince the general to give them more info, he will tell them that they had been in contact with a bio-engineer named Dr. O’Connor, who wanted to create for the military a powerful bioweapon. However, his experiment escaped and somehow managed to hide out here.

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

Location: Stop n Go Warehouse

Type: Hellgate (motivation: to create evil)

Description: An even denser mist is located around the warehouse. Inside is The Strange Man, running around and between the crates.

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

Location: Cheboygan County Airport-Slh

Type: Deathtrap (motivation: to harm intruders)

Description: A small airport ment mostly to drop off supplies and used by small bi-planes. It’s the designated evacuation mark should anything happen in the town. However, the flesh monsters have already spread to the airport, hunting down anyone that gets close.

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: f--k you and the horse you rode in on; adam page [m]

Notes:

originally sent to me by @vonschweetz​ on snarkandsarcasmwrites which I’m turning into my main now, i chose to post this here on it’s own little post. This is my Ivy and Adam universe, but it’s the What If’s version, not to be confused with the Wild Side version. Yes, they are different. whew- that was a mouthful.

Summary:

Ivy and Adam run into each other again after years of being apart. There’s hurt there. Will they work through their pain or make things messier by having a one night stand and going their separate ways all over again? Alternate chapter / universe /ending to What If’s.

Warning:

FEELTH. unprotected sex, strip club vip room mention, body fluids, exotic dancer OFC. Alcohol tw.

Pairing:

Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Ivy Barlow.

“Hey, how much you think it’ll cost to hire one of the girls to come n’ dance for me for the night?” Adam’s tone was smooth as the whiskey he was pouring into his glass as he asked the club manager.

He felt so sleazy doing it because he never did it, but tonight was a really, really bad night. When he was lonely and just… Craving intimacy. Craving her, the one that got away all those years ago. The need to feel less alone outweighed the sleazy thing he was doing. He tried to justify his trip to this seedy  little club on the Strip as him paying someone who might actually need the money versus just settling for some buckle bunny and having to deal with the fallout later. Either way, he found himself thinking as he solemnly slammed back the fifth of whiskey, it’s still sleazy and it ain’t you.

But bein alone tonight is somethin I don’t wanna do. I can’t do it. I know where my mind’s gonna go. It’s gonna go to Ivy n’ the way things played out. I’m gonna wind up exhausting all the what could’ve beens and what if’s and maybe’s until it drives me insane…

As he weighed his decision against the way it made him feel sleazy, blue eyes lazily roamed the dimly lit strip club and when he saw her -the exact reason he’d been driven to seek out the comfort of a stranger tonight, his entire body tensed and he coughed. His eyes locked on her, watching the way she grinded and wrapped herself around that silver pole. A shiver passed through him that went straight to his cock and settled, making it stand at attention and push firmly against the zip of his jeans. The manager noticed his intent stare and chuckled. “Oh, she’s gonna cost ya, cowboy. She’s gonna cost ya real good. That’s one of the best girls I got, man. And she just recently started workin as one of my girls upstairs in VIP too… So yer in luck. If you got the cash and she agrees to a few hours with ya, of course.”

“Is she… Is she available? You think she’d agree, I mean?” Adam was in disbelief at the fact that he’d even asked that. And in disbelief that the girl he loved years ago was working in a place like this as a dancer.

His eyes shifted from the manager to the way she peeled off a pair of painted on leather chaps, tossing them to the side. It left her in a pair of skimpy high cut black leather Brazillian cut panties. He shifted in his seat as he felt his hardened member twitch and strain even harder against the heavy dark denim covering it. He wished he’d gone for wearing underwear, but wearing them all night during the rodeo earlier left him chafed enough.

The club owner eyed the pile of winnings in his hand and chuckled, giving a half-assed shrug. “Dunno, Hangman. Why don’t you walk over n’ ask her, hmm?” was asked as the man nodded in her direction.

Her dance had just ended, she was leaving the center stage, slinking towards where Adam sat talking to the club owner. At first, she didn’t bother looking at him, instead she addressed the club owner.

“Got anything for me tonight, Slade?”

“Got ya a cowboy, Ivy.” Slade chuckled and gave a nod to Adam who stood nearby, lingering with his eyes darting all over the place. Slade could tell the guy wasn’t used to doing this, it almost made him want to laugh. But sooner or later, all of the cowboys and wannabe rockstars that came out to Vegas wound up at one of these establishments.

Ivy gave a soft laugh. “They all think they’re cowboys or rockstars out here, Slade. Cash up front, right? And the usual, a few private dances, the VIP treatment.”

Adam couldn’t stop staring at her. As a result, he wound up overpouring the whiskey and it wound up soaking through his jeans. He coughed to sort of get her attention and the second her eyes locked on him she blinked.

Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard, raising a hand to drag it through her hair. She hadn’t said anything. As soon as Adam said her name, she eyed him and all those emotions in her eyes just seconds before vanished. She’d always been good at shutting down. Apparently, she’d just gotten better at it.

“Well if it ain’t West Virginia’s favorite cowboy… what brings you out to Vegas, hmm?” Ivy kept her best neutral tone as she said it, keeping her distance from Adam. She hadn’t back then and she’d wound up falling too hard. She still hadn’t gotten over him, even now, years later.

Adam swallowed hard and he took a deep breath. “Rodeo’s in town. I thought you were out in Florida. Heard you married yourself some soap opera guy.”

“Annulled, actually.” Ivy shifted her feet and nudged the club owner, getting him off to the side. “I can’t do this, Slade. Not with him. You’re the one who makes the rules here, Slade, not me.. No personal ties. Hands off and all that, remember?”

“He’s the only taker you got tonight, Ivy. And poor idiot literally just gave me his entire nights winnings. This could be good for the club and you, lil bit. It’s your call this time. You’re one of my best girls, I trust ya.” Slade gave her a wink and Ivy blew at her bangs, thinking it over. Slade did have a point.

“Yeah, well..” Ivy trailed off as she remembered the debt on her grandparent’s ranch and the cost of hiring hands to pitch in when needed. She found herself thinking about her own potential business venture she was saving up for, re-opening her grandmother’s diner in town, and she found herself thinking about her savings. She sighed and swore to herself under her breath, dragging long and delicate fingers through light caramel colored locks. “Fine. I’ll do it. But he better have money because I’m charging double. If he’s such hot shit on the pro circuit right now, why the hell wouldn’t he just pick up a fuckin bunny at the show?”

Adam overheard most of the conversation and spoke up. “Didn’t wanna.” he barely met Ivy’s gaze and when he did manage to meet it, Ivy found herself cringing at the icy look in his eyes. Adam’s jaw tightened and he started to protest, but when he tried, no words would come.

“But you’re here… at a club paying enough cash for an all night private session upstairs…” Ivy’s brow quirked and she eyed him while smirking. “Either way, stud. you’re on the clock. Let’s just get this over with.” no matter how hard she tried to keep up that all business facade, she was starting to feel it crack. She was starting to feel fidgety under his intent -and cold, stare and she found herself jittery. She knew he was standing there, most likely judging her. He was the one who hadn’t tried to respond to her whenever she did try to reach out. He was the one who never came for her, despite his promise that he’d never let anything happen to tear them apart. He was the one who went off and got all famous from the looks of it.

“It’s nice to see you again too, Ivy Jane.” Adam snapped as calmly as possible as he tore his eyes off of her and stared down at his mud covered Ariats.

“I never said it was nice to see you the first time, Mr. Page.” Ivy responded in a chilled tone as she turned on her heels and started to slink towards the back of the club, to the stairs that lead up to a second floor of the place. A place where few ever got access to.

Adam stopped her halfway up the stairs. “You got no right t’ be angry at me, Ivy Jane. You’re the one who left.” he practically growled the words as he gripped her wrist, staring up at her. Right now he was hurt and confused and so fucking bitter. Everything conspired against them, it always had from the beginning. Their families hadn’t gotten along and constantly butted in and kept them apart mostly, but what was really making him angry was that standing here in the stairwell now, with her right in front of him, was that he was clearly seeing that they’d both had chances. And neither of them had tried or fought, they’d both been too scared to just cut off their families and rely on each other. … we were kids then, though… Adam tried to remind himself, neither of us felt like we had a choice…  And not only that, he could just look at her and tell that somehow, she was hurting and angry and bitter too. And probably full of blame. He had to admit, he was full of it himself because she’d basically disappeared and not once did she try to reach out, not once did she try to contact him and at least give him closure.

“I didn’t have a fucking choice, Adam.” Ivy didn’t mean to say it like she did, she hadn’t meant that little bit of hurt and longing to creep into her voice. She sighed and shook her head. Adam’s shoulders slumped and he muttered an apology. But then the mild anger he felt at finding her again, here of all places, that kicked in and he grabbed hold of her waist, turning her to face him when she faced away and started to walk up the remainder of the stairs.

“The hell are you doin’, anyway? This ain’t you, Ivy Jane. This… This ain’t th’ girl I love.”

“Yeah, well… Shit happens, Adam. I think you meant loved, by the way, because you certainly seem to be acting as if I’m dirt beneath your feet now.” Ivy shrugged it off, trying to make herself forget the way his hands felt all over her or the way it felt to hear his voice again after all this time. Trying to convince herself that he had every chance to come out to Florida and find her after high school and when he didn’t and he chose to go on the rodeo circuit instead, that was her answer as to what he really felt.

“I’m not actin like that, Ivy Jane…But this? This is.. What do you get from it, huh? Because I’m failin to understand it.” Adam ground out through a clenched jaw as he glared down at Ivy.

Ivy glared right back  up at him, shaking her head and giving a bitter laugh. “I tried writing you, Adam. I tried calling, I tried everything. I tried to let you know what happened that night. You ignored it. My choices now aren’t really your problem. Not that there’s anything wrong with anything I’m doing. And you’re the one who came in here and paid for an entire night private session upstairs, so what exactly does that say about you, huh?” Ivy snapped right back, her tone growing increasingly bitter.

“I didn’t know what t’ do! You were supposed t’ come meet me n’ leave that night and y’ never showed! What was I suppose t’ do? Just forget ya didn’t show and skipped town and try to pick up where we left off? If I’d ever gotten anything ya sent to begin with! I never heard another word out of you!” Adam exploded before he could stop himself and before he’d fully processed what she said seconds prior. As soon as what she’d just snapped at him really sank in, Adam went quiet.

Ivy’s lip quivered for the smallest of seconds and she tensed all over at the anger in his voice. “I was tryin t’ get ya away from there, darlin. All ya had to do was come to our spot that night, leave with me… I promised to take care of ya. I never woulda broken that promise.” as he felt himself getting angry because until right now, he’d never even stopped to consider that Ivy might have tried reaching out. He got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew exactly why he’d never known and he made a firm mental note to talk to his meddling family the next time he got the chance.

Before finally cutting ties, because this was… If what she said was true, and he had no doubt it was because he’d never known Ivy to lie and she looked entirely too… Hurt… Bitter… right now to be lying, either way… this was the straw. This was it, this was too much interference on the part of his family. And probably her own, Adam found himself thinking, because god knows her old man hated me for whatever reason.

It was a lot to take in at once and combined with the raw pain he felt right now at finally seeing Ivy again, which was all he ever really wanted to begin with, he now had to deal with what they’d both become thanks to their families grudge and the way life was shitty and it stacked the deck against them and their love for each other practically from the word go.

“Look. It’s water under the bridge. Obviously, it wasn’t meant to be. Let’s just… Do this and go our separate ways.” Ivy’s voice trembled slightly as she said it, turning the knob to one of the private rooms above the club, opening the door and stepping inside.

But Adam suddenly couldn’t let it go. And thanks to the abundance of alcohol coursing his veins right now, he wasn’t thinking totally clear either. All he did know was that he had one last chance and he was taking it.

Ivy saw that flash in his eyes and before she could even fully process, Adam was pinning her against the wall beside the door and reaching out past her, turning the lock on the door. His mouth crushed against her mouth hungrily, almost greedily and his hands were all over her. Ivy started out with her hand firmly against his chest, hell bent on shoving him away and keeping a safe distance, but Adam wasn’t having it. And by the time Ivy had to catch her breath from the deep and needy and angry biting kiss Adam was pulling her deeper into, the hand against his shirt wound up tangling in it instead. Her other hand seemed to grow a mind of it’s own, reaching up, tugging at the messy ponytail he wore his hair in currently, even though she knew the rules like the back of her hand and she knew that this was a taboo, them kissing in the stairwell like this… As soon as she’d pulled his hair free from the hair tie, the scent of his shampoo mixed with whiskey and sweat filled her nose and a flood of old memories never truly forgotten came flooding back to her in a rush all over again.

Adam’s teeth clamped down on her lower lip, tugging and his fingertips dug into the soft curve of her hips hard enough to leave marks behind, rubbing her against him roughly. “You were supposed to be mine. Not workin here, like this. Not dancin…I was supposed to take care of ya.”

“Adam, don’t… Please… If we start thinking about this…” Ivy pleaded, her hands shaking as she lowered the one tangled in his hair to the belt buckle at his waist, trailing the tip of her finger over the intricate design on the metal and resting her hand over the buckle, tugging him closer. Despite everything inside her telling her that not resisting was a bad idea and doing this was an even worse one, not really talking and getting closure first was probably the WORST decision of the current ones she’d been making tonight, Ivy suddenly didn’t care. Ivy didn’t want to stop or think about what might happen next, she didn’t want to fight against the pull to Adam that came rushing right back all over again when she’d locked eyes with him downstairs. “I don’t wanna think. Or fight.”

Seconds trickled by slowly as she stared up at him, biting her lower lip. Literally every single thing that kept them apart for so long was racing through her brain and she could tell it was eating away at him too. That it probably had been for a long time now. Maybe even as long as it had with her.

“We’re… Not supposed to… Touch. Or you’re not supposed to touch me.” Ivy managed to tear her mouth away from Adam’s again to let him know what was expected. Adam gave a solemn nod and Ivy rose to tiptoe slightly, muttering dangerously close against his lips all over again, “But Slade did say that this was my call… And I…” she trailed off, sighing and shaking her head, gently shoving him back into the chair that stood just behind Adam, slightly off center of the room. Adam’s eyes met hers and he tucked his fingers beneath her chin to hold her eyes on his. “You what, Ivy?”

“I just need you…” as the words left her mouth, Adam just barely ghosted his hands down her sides, sliding her a little closer to him. Ivy whimpered as she felt him straining at the stiff dark blue denim and before she could stop herself, she was rocking herself over the bulge twitching and straining at it. Adam’s head lowered after he met her gaze for a second or two, a questioning look in his eyes as if to ask if what he was about to do was alright. Ivy nodded and rose up slightly, putting her chest eye level with his mouth. All Adam could do was drop his head down, bury his lips in the exposed cleavage peeking out and in his face and let out this frustrated groan against her skin.

None of this was supposed to go this way and it frustrated him that it had. Ivy’s hips moved in a figure 8 and with each brush of soaked black pleather against the crotch of his jeans,Adam’s fingertips dug into her ass just a little more, he was cautious to at least try honoring the no touch rule Ivy warned him about after the kiss broke a few minutes before. Ivy pressed down a little harder, taking shaky breaths, leaning in and ghosting her lips against his own as she muttered softly, “Missed you. I was so afraid I fucked it all up when you didn’t… Come for me.”

Adam broke at her words, a sharp breath as his hands raised, caressing her cheeks, pulling her mouth against his as she continued to ride his lap, grind against his thigh and rub herself against him as much as she could. His tongue slipped past her lips as he muttered quietly into the deepening and dizzying kiss, “Darlin, I didn’t know.. Nobody told me you were tryin to get in touch. I tried to write you too. Tried callin, tried everythin. I never woulda just let ya go if I hadn’t thought.. That was what you wanted. Never.” he stared her down, emphasizing his words with carefully placed kisses against every bit of exposed skin within his reach. And as if it weren’t enough, he tilted her chin, making her look down at him, hands ghosting down her sides, careful to move immediately back to the arm of the chair just to be safe, pouting as he did so. “I really did. I.. I thought not hearin from ya meant you finally couldn’t fight everything against us anymore.”

“Adam, no. No.” Ivy’s mouth nuzzled against his neck as she started to sink down in his lap, making his head fall back and his eyes flutter open and shut. When she started to crawl out of his lap and she settled on her knees between his thighs, he grunted, his hips bucking upward as a helpless and needy whine fell from his mouth. “Ivy, darlin, what…” he felt her hands working his legs open wider, trailing up and down his thighs, gripping as she made her way back up his body and into his lap and turned to face away from him, rocking her ass back and forth over the throbbing bulge strained against rough denim. He hissed and leaned forward, his chest pressing into her back, his hands leaving the arm rest of the chair and lingering on the insides of her thighs as his mouth pressed against the side of her ear, “Missed you so fuckin much, darlin. So much. I never stopped thinkin about you.. Hell, I dream about you every night.” he admitted in a low and husky growl, sending a shiver racing through her that he felt as soon as it did. Ivy’s hands twined with his, ghosting over her body, lingering on her chest, squeezing as she whimpered.

“Oh Adam.” her words caught in her throat and her head fell back, eyes fluttering open and closed.

“Yeah?” Adam whispered back, his lips dancing down the side of her neck and seconds away from snapping. He’d been kept from her too damn long. And he was tired of it. It had to end tonight.

“Take me home… Somewhere. Anywhere.” Ivy muttered quietly, rubbing herself against his lap a little harder and a lot more urgently.

“Can go back t’ my Airstream over at the fairground.” Adam managed to mutter the words as Ivy turned around in his lap. Adam stood, not bothering to put her on her own feet and as he stopped to open the door he mumbled against her neck “There a back way outta here?”

“Yeah.. Go down the hall and take the stairs. It’ll take ya out into the alley.” Ivy breathed into the kiss that she pulled him into feverishly. The door shut behind them and Adam walked down the hall hastily, stopping at the top of the stairs to press her against the wall. Ivy’s legs wrapped around him and she rubbed against him, whimpering and clinging to him, the tips of her fingers digging into his scalp and tugging at his hair, her other hand lightly digging into his shoulder as she attacked his mouth hungrily.

“Fuck.” Adam managed to gasp just as he descended the stairs and fumbled with the handle on the door at the bottom, hurrying to step out into the alley. From there it was a short walk around the building, and after stopping a time or two between the building and the parking lot where his truck sat waiting, they were finally standing beside it. Adam scooped her up, opening the passenger door and sitting her inside, the restrictions of the club and the VIP room gone by now and all he wanted to do was touch her. Feel her body, her mouth against his own, know that he wasn’t imagining it, this was real and they were together again at last.

Logically, he knew they had a lot to talk about, but for tonight, talking was the last thing on his mind. Their lips came apart swollen and bruised and Adam took a long and deep breath just to try calming himself down a little and Ivy’s legs wrapped around him, pulling him back in all over again, taking his face in her hands, pulling his mouth back against hers all over again. “Adam, I..”

The kiss broke and Adam pressed the side of his finger against her lips to stop the flow of her words, pressing his forehead against hers. “Don’t wanna talk, okay? Just.. Don’t wanna think about all the shit that went wrong. Not tonight.”

“I need to say this.” Ivy insisted. Adam bit his lip, his stomach churning nervously as he peered into big brown eyes, waiting, wondering what she had to say so bad that it couldn’t wait. Ivy’s teeth clenched his lower lip and she muttered into heated little kisses against his mouth, “I never stopped loving you, ever. God did I try. I just.. I couldn’t.”

“I know, darlin. I know. I feel the same way.” Adam reassured her, a hand slipping to rest on the back of her neck, pulling her mouth into his completely as his other hand worked up the insides of her thighs, squeezing as he pulled her close again, letting her cling to him. “I gotta drive.”

Ivy gave a soft laugh and nodded, trying to ply herself from his arms. Adam hurried around his truck and climbed inside, starting the engine and taking a side road out of the parking lot because it was shorter than going through town to get back to the fairgrounds. His hand wandered over the console, grabbing for her thigh, squeezing after he’d raised her hand to his lips. Ivy bit her lip, legs falling open ever so slightly. Before Adam could stop himself from doing so, he was growling quietly and shifting in the driver seat, leaning over to whisper boldly against her ear, “We might make it inside. If you’re lucky. Keep it up, Ivy Jane.”

Apparently, she was trying to get herself fucked against the side of his Airstream because her next move was to lean across and ghost her lips up the side of his neck while lowering her hand and slowly moving it up the inside of his thigh, lingering over a now throbbing bulge. His breath caught in his throat and Ivy gently nipped at his earlobe as she giggled almost whisper quiet against it. His hand skimmed along the inside of her thigh, fingertips disappearing beneath the hem of those black pleather hot pants she was wearing. As soon as his fingertip grazed against soaked fabric, he groaned, biting his lip and tried to make himself focus on the road.

As his finger slipped beneath the fabric barrier and slowly slid over her slickened folds, Ivy shivered and a quiet moan escaped her lips. Her hand found it’s way back down to his lap and Ivy stared at him a few seconds, tongue rolling over vibrant red lips.

“What, darlin?”

“Oh, nothin…” Ivy hummed innocently as her fingers tugged at the zip of his jeans, lowering it slowly. Too slow. Adam gripped the wheel and almost as soon as he felt her hand curl around his thick length, pulling it free from his jeans, he took a few long and shaky breaths, sinking into the seat just a little bit. Her tongue trailed slowly over the tip of his member, circling it, then trailing lower, moving down the side of his shaft, trailing it’s veiny length.

“Darlin, fuck.” Adam groaned, thighs tensing at the delicious and slow torment that was her tongue, gliding over his cock. Her lips wrapped around it and his hand tangled in her hair, tugging. The parking lot of the fairground came into sight and Adam let out a long and ragged breath as he felt her mouth latching on greedily, the hum that passed those lips as she bobbed her head up and down sending vibration racing down his length. By the time he got the truck parked and the engine killed, he was white knuckling the steering wheel with one hand and breathing so heavy it almost sounded like he’d ran a marathon. He leaned his head back against the head rest of his seat and bucked his hips against her mouth carefully, praising in a husky whisper, “Fuck, darlin.. So good with that little mouth of yours. C’mon, baby. Deeper.”

When she trailed her tongue right down the underside of his length, he growled and groaned aloud more than a few times, eyes fluttering open and closed as he bucked in his seat all over again and tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging a little. “Ivy, fuck yeah. Feels so good.” he groaned over and over.

Ivy hit her gag reflex and Adam thrust against her mouth all over again, lowering his hand to tilt her chin and make her stop, look up at him, leaning down to crash his mouth against her mouth sloppily and muttering into the kiss, “Best we move this inside, darlin.”

“Adam.” Ivy whined and pouted, but Adam shook his head and got out of the truck, hurrying around to her side, reaching in to unfasten her seatbelt and scooping her out into his arms, jogging in a hurry towards the silver Airstream parked haphazardly nearby. Her back met the door of his camper and his hand disappeared right back up the hem of her hot pants, fingers hastily brushing her soaked panties aside as he growled against her neck and buried his fingers knuckle deep into her heat, working her open, bucking himself into her, teeth snagging on skin and leaving marks behind. When he finally got the damn door unlocked, he stepped inside, locking it behind him, tossing his key onto a butcher block countertop. He stepped into the back of the camper, gently tossing Ivy against the mattress and sinking down, his hands gripping the waist of her hot pants, tugging both hot pants and soaked panties to the ground in less time than it took Ivy to bat a lash. As his hands parted her thighs, she rose to prop on her elbows, staring down at him. Adam hooked his arms beneath her thighs to hold her legs open and his eyes met hers as he licked his lips and lowered his head, dancing his lips right up the inside of her thighs.

Ivy’s hand lowered, gripping at his hair, trying to tug his mouth up higher and Adam chuckled quietly against her skin, leaving little kisses and bites behind. The second she felt his tongue rolling over her folds and heard the greedy loud slurping she whimpered almost helplessly when she tried to rock her hips upward and realized that Adam had such a tight grip on her thighs that she really couldn’t move. “Adam.” she panted, biting her lip, whimpering even louder as his mouth closed over her clit, tongue circling the small bundle of nerves, teeth snagging on her skin to mark her up. “Fuck, darlin. Still taste so sweet. And you’re so wet for me already.” his nose bumped against her pelvic mound as he mumbled against her cunt and his tongue started to descend, trailing right over her folds, sending a shiver racing through her body. Ivy’s toes curled in the bed sheet beneath her, and Adam’s grip loosened slightly. The second it did, Ivy was writhing and rocking her hips upward against his mouth as much as she could and Adam slipped two fingers deep into her heat to join his tongue.

“C’mon, darlin. Let go. Let me taste.” Adam coaxed, not that Ivy needed much of a reason and as her orgasm washed over her, leaving her shaking and whimpering and moaning on the bed below him, Adam raised up, unbuckling and then unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, tugging off his boots and then kicking the denim free from his body, lowering himself and settling over her, his hand disappearing down between them to guide his cock over her folds, making her shiver all over again and whimper, pleading with him.

“C’mon, Adam, now.. Need you now.”

“I know, darlin, I know.” Adam mumbled quietly against her mouth, his tongue parting her lips as he sank his length deep into her dripping heat, laying still and kissing her all over the face and the neck as he touched her everywhere, hands unable to be still. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Ivy could only nod and seconds later, moan his name loud enough to be heard outside the trailer as he started to fuck into her slow and deep, the mattress creaking steadily beneath the two of them as Adam’s hands captured her hands at either side of her head and his mouth conquered her mouth and then drifted down, lingering on her throat, leaving even more marks behind.

Ivy’s legs wrapped around his hips to pull him even closer, drive his cock in even deeper and when he bottomed out, he growled hungrily into her mouth. Her hand raised, tangling in his hair and tugging at it as Adam started to fuck into her harder, faster, their moans and panting labored breaths joining in the sound of the bed creaking beneath them both. Ivy’s head fell back as she felt another orgasm building and Adam’s hips started to snap erratically, crashing into hers, almost bruising as his pace quickened. “Ah… Fuck. Adam, fuck… Don’t… Don’t stop, baby, c’mon. I’m so.. Close.” Ivy’s eyes fluttered open and shut and her arms wrapped around his neck as Adam’s mouth crashed against her own and he muttered quietly, “Fuck, darlin… Feels so good, holdin you again. So good. Never gonna let…” his breathing hitched as he deepened the kiss and finished, “Let you go again. Ever.”

“Promise me.”

“I mean it, baby girl.” Adam growled as his teeth tugged at her lower lip and his cock bottomed out, sending her right over the edge, her orgasm shattering through all over again. Adam felt her clench around him and he gripped onto her tighter, trying to slow down and brace himself, anything to keep from getting off right away, but nothing worked, especially with Ivy whimpering beneath him, pleading and begging him not to stop, begging him to fill her up.

Ivy’s nails raked down Adam’s back as she felt the throbbing warmth of his release as it filled her and she clung to him, kissing his neck and shoulders, Adam kissing her on the forehead and cheeks, both of them trying to come down from the high of their orgasm.

Adam flopped down onto the mattress and reached out, pulling Ivy on top of him, locking his arms around her as he muttered softly, “I really do mean it. We’re gonna be okay. And I won’t lose you again.”

Ivy leaned her head down, brushing her mouth against his as she mumbled in a quiet yawn, “I know you mean it. And I don’t wanna lose you again. I… If you asked me, I’d pack up and leave with you right now. I just.. I wish I’d been able back then.”

Adam’s hand trailed lazily over her spine and he shushed her, nodding. “I know, darlin. I should’ve known it all along. Feel like an asshole because I didn’t.”

“We’re really gonna be okay..” Ivy’s voice was softer, he could look up and tell she was starting to drift off and he chuckled, pressing his lips against hers as he reassured her again that they were going to be okay.

This time was DIFFERENT. Adam was going to make sure of that.

[ollieologys]

summertime (with you) | p. parker | two.

SUMMARY; In Queens, things have finally calmed down for Peter Parker - he’s more than content with the way life is going. In Brooklyn, Y/N struggles with her own identity. Out of nowhere, Spider-Man dies, and Y/N begins to stick to things. (into the spider-verse/multi-verse au)

PAIRING; peter parker x spider-woman!reader

WORDS; 2.8k

WARNING; mentions of death, minor swearing

prologue | one | three

     ELECTROCUTING someone was never on Y/N’s bucket list.

She never thought she would see the day she could electrocute someone with nothing but her hands. Yet, she did. At least, that’s what she thinks she saw. Then again, she wasn’t entirely sure what was real at this point. The snowfall gave her exposed arms goosebumps, but instead of focusing on her shivering form, Y/N eyed the unconscious body in front of her.

He looked to be around her age. Pale, close to porcelain, skin with light freckles splattered across his rosy cheeks - he was probably cold. The unknown boy’s nose was slightly crooked, his lips pink and thin. One of his eyebrows messier than the other - but that wasn’t what confused her. The boy was wearing a Spider-Man suit.

Not just any other, store-bought merchandise in honor of the hero. No, the spandex material hugged every crease and curve and muscle of his body. Spider-Man was dead though, wasn’t he? They found his body, and she was just sitting at his grave. A tingling sense radiated through her body, and she shivered. She looked in his right hand and saw that he was loosely clutching what seemed to be the mask. Slowly, Y/N reached forward, her fingers aching to investigate the cover. Just one look. 

“NYPD! Stop whatever you’re doing and move away from the body!”

Y/N swiftly jerked her hand away from his and snapped her head to look behind her. There stood two officers, flashlights coming closer to her and the boy. They were approaching slowly, but the light couldn’t have reached her face just yet. She still had time to run. 

Perhaps running from police officers wasn’t the best idea. But she felt an overpowering need to. Y/N turned to face to the boy again. He was still alive, yes, but nowhere near awake. She knew that he needed to come with her, but she wouldn’t dare risk her voice being heard and recognized. But she couldn’t lift the boy, either. He looked to be well over a hundred pounds, and Y/N wouldn’t be able to run and carry him. Even so, she had to try. So, she grabbed the mask from his hand and prayed that a miracle would happen.

But as she slid her arms beneath his torso, she found that she could lift him with ease. He was as light as a feather.

Her eyes widened, and she questioned the newfound strength. But as the voices ordering her to put the body down became increasingly closer, and sprinted out of the cemetery and into the streets of Queens. 

Y/N panted and gasped for air. Her legs burned from the sudden amount of running, but oddly, she had a feeling she could do this all day. Police sirens began to go off, and she could see the glow of flashing blue lights following her trail. Y/N needed to get back to Brooklyn, but it was impossible to get on the train and get home without getting caught.

What would her parents say if they knew she had snuck out and was arrested for stealing a corpse from a cemetery the night before she went to her new school?

As the sirens got louder, she decided it would be better not to find out. 

Y/N tried to think. She still didn’t know who she was carrying, but she begged Spider-Man for help, and then this boy showed up. Nothing was a coincidence at this point, so she needed to make this work. 

If this really was Spider-Man, he could shoot webs, right?

Y/N looked upward, listening to the passing trains scrape across the tracks. An LED light above one of the tunnels indicated that the train was heading for Brooklyn and then turning back. She couldn’t make it on the train, it was already moving. But if she attached herself and the mysterious boy to it...

Frantically, she looked down. “Okay,” she said to herself, attempting to speed up her run. Every time she ran into someone, she apologized, but barely had time to get the words out of her mouth. The sirens were getting closer, and she prayed the officers didn’t order her to stop over their speakers. The street was filled with cars, no pedestrians crossing. City lights engulfed the entirety of New York, and Y/N made a decision of her life.  

Cars honked, and people yelled as she ran into the middle of the street. Her heart threatened to jump out of her chest as she held tight onto the unconscious boy, running in between cars and trying her best not to get killed. Y/N looked down and pulled on the boy’s wrist, exposing his web-shooters.

“Please work.” She whispered. Then, she aimed his wrist at the fast-moving train and pressed down on the small circles. A single web shot out into what seemed to be nowhere. Nothing happened. Then, Y/N yelped as she was harshly yanked into the air. 

Screaming at the top of her lungs, she swang through the air while desperately holding onto the boy. That could have been what woke him up, as his eyes began to slowly open before he realized why his hair was going in all different directions. Quickly, his eyes widened, and he stared dead at Y/N.

“Get us on that train!” She yelled at him. Peter followed her eyes, and his own landed on the moving train heading for Brooklyn. At this point, he was perplexed. He wondered if anything happening was actually happening. Still, he was inclined to listen to her. And so, he shot another web, wrapping his other arm around the girl’s waist, and swung to the top of the train. 

Sirens echoed, but they couldn’t follow fast enough. Y/N planted her hands onto the top of the train and gasped, looking around the city in a frenzy. Then, her eyes landed on the boy. “Who-- Who are you?” She asked him.

He blinked, unsure of how to answer. He could say he was Spider-Man, or he could say Peter Parker, but would she believe him? After all, he was most certainly not blonde, blue-eyed, and 26. “Peter. I’m Peter.” His eyes met hers, searching for her reaction, and only finding a puzzled look.

“Like Peter Parker? Spider-Man Peter Parker? Because that dude was like, way older than you, and--” Y/N realized he wouldn’t lie. Theories ran through her mind, but she couldn’t find one that made sense. There were too many possibilities knowing how insanely scientific the world was these days. He could very well be a clone of the older Peter Parker gone wrong. He could be an evil villain. He could be anyone. 

On the other hand, Peter decided to explain to her how he got here. As they sat atop the moving train, he described the vacuum-hole-thing, the transporting to Manhattan, seeing that another version of him was dead, and overall - this his theory that he had come from another dimension.

“I was a good day, you know?” He found himself describing his fear to the girl. “A pretty good day. After everything that had happened, I was ready to finally, just, relax.” She stared at him, sympathetically. His theory made sense. At least, it made more sense than any other idea she had come up with. 

“But what about you? What’s your name?” He moved his legs to cross them over each other and looked at her expectantly. Y/N blinked. She didn’t speak for a moment. The only reason she went to the grave was to find help at becoming whatever she was meant to be. 

Y/N had no idea who she was meant to be now. Everything changed.

“My name’s Y/N L/N.”

When they arrived in Brooklyn, Y/N brought Peter back to her apartment. The two walked in silence as the city began to quiet down. It was close to midnight, and Y/N wondered how she was going to get Peter home. She wondered if she even could get Peter home. It seemed way far out of her capabilities. 

“Sooo,” Y/N began, fumbling with her fingers. “How did you become Spider-Man?” She looked up at him. She noticed now that his eyes were a deep, chocolate brown. Not so dark that you needed to be in his face to see the color, but not as light as you could tell from afar. She felt vulnerable under his gaze, but from the way he moved on the balls of his feet, she began to relax. He was just as awkward as she was. He was just as nervous as she was. 

“I got bit by a radioactive spider.” He answered simply. She nodded to herself. Looking down at the swollen bump just below her knuckles, she let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, I think I did, too.” 

“Well,” She said, looking upward. “This is me.” She motioned to the fourth balcony on the right. He looked up, then at her, then up again. 

“You first.” Peter offered. She let out a breath. “Um. Okay.” Y/N looked at the brick wall, considering trying to climb up. Then she realized that she didn’t have any idea of how to stick on command. She also knew she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of the other-worldly boy. Instead, she went for the ladders attached to the fire escape.

“Fuck,” she whispered as the ladders creaked. She heard shuffling and was surprised to see Spider-Man crawling up the side of the wall. As though he were an actual Spider. Now she felt embarrassed. Why couldn’t she have done that, too?

When they made it up to her room, she attempted to crawl through her window gracefully but failed miserably as she tripped over the clothing and books. Peter, on the other hand, climbed through the window, onto the ceiling, and then dropped silently onto her floor without so much as a peep. Underneath her door, the light from the kitchen no longer streamed in. As expected, her parents were asleep.

“Don’t worry,” Peter said, smiling softly at Y/N. “You’ll get the hang of all the sticky stuff in no time.” Y/N laughed and thanked him. 

“Shit. I’m sorry. My room is such a mess, I swear it’s not always like this, I just start school tomorrow, and I had no idea what I was going to bring, and I-” Y/N rambled in almost a whisper. Peter waved his hands in front of his face, stepping closer to her. “No, no, no. It’s okay. This probably came out of nowhere, huh?”

Y/N nodded quietly. While she had the least bit idea of what life was going to be for her, she felt comforted at the thought that someone else knew what it was like to have these powers and live this life. They stood in silence for a moment. Not awkward necessarily, but she avoided eye contact. 

Peter looked over her room and admired how cozy it was compared to his. Her bed was a full-size, sheets a cool gray what collided well with her white walls. Across the edges of her ceiling were warm fairy lights that illuminated her room. Her desk was pushed against the wall just in front beside her bed, an ivory white with a laptop, lamp, and stationery supplies. Just above her desk was a corkboard where numerous polaroids of Y/N and her family, friends, and other things she probably found to be photo-worthy were hung and dated. A few shelves were mounted on her wall, and there were small succulent plants on them. On the left of her bed was a bedside table with a reading lamp, a clock,  and a photo of what looked like to be Y/N and her parents. Across the room were her closet and dresser, open and raided, most of her clothes were sprawled across her floor. A fluffy, gray carpet held the clothes. She had a small yet full bookshelf beside her dresser, and a hanging chair with pillows in the corner. 

“You can sleep in my bed.” Y/N as she noticed Peter inspecting her room. “I need to clean anyways, and if my parents see I didn’t pack, then, they’ll be pissed.” She motioned to the open suitcase on the floor. “I’ll sleep on the chair.”

Peter shook his head no. “No, Y/N. I can’t do that. You sleep in your own bed. I fell asleep on the floor a lot at home anyways.” It wasn’t entirely true, but he did sometimes sleep on the floor before he had a bunkbed where Ned could sleep when they had sleepovers. 

“I do too,” She argued, taking pillows off of her bed and placing them on the floor. “You’re a guest. You sleep in the bed.” Peter protested, then Y/N protested back. They bantered and disagreed and Y/N pondered why he was so incredibly difficult. 

In the end, Peter helped Y/N pack her suitcase, and they talked for hours on end. He asked her about the record player on her bookshelf, and she explained to him the importance that music had in her life. She told him how music was never off in her household as a child, and just how comforting it was whenever she was stressed out. 

“It just, you know, reminds me of home. Like I’m not alone.” Y/N explained shyly. Peter smiled nonetheless, handing her a few shirts. “I know how you feel. Maybe not with music, but I understand where you’re coming from.”

They had landed on the topic of being a spider-person eventually. Peter told her his story from the beginning. Uncle Ben dying, becoming Spider-Man shortly after, being recruited to fight Team Cap by Tony Stark, fighting Liz Allen’s dad, and more. Y/N, of course, had no idea what Team Cap was or who Tony Stark was, or why either of them was important, but she listened intently nonetheless. 

“You fought your girlfriend’s dad?” Y/N said, pushing herself off her carpet and looking up at him. Still dressed in his Spider-Man suit, he was laid on her bed and looked back at her. “Yeah, it was scary, but it gave me tons of Superhero cred. You win some, and you lose some, right?” He smiled. 

They exchanged a moment of silence. Peter thought about how often they did that. Just to comprehend everything, the other was telling them. 

“Are you two still dating?” Y/N asked quietly. She didn’t quite know why. She was just curious as to where Peter was in life. He shook his head. “Nah. She had to move to Oregon.” Y/N nodded, looking at the clock. It was just past two now. 

“Is it hard? Having friends, I mean. Can you balance school, dating, friends, and family while being Spider-Man?” She asked. Peter laid quietly for a minute, maybe two. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer. In replacement of his silence, she continued. “Do-- do you ever wish this didn’t happen to you?”

Finally, Peter sat up and responded. “No, never,” He said matter-of-factly. “It can be hard. Sometimes impossible, yeah. But this didn’t happen to us, Y/N. It was given, ya know? Somewhere, somehow, we were given this power by luck, or chance, or choice - I don’t know. But it’s a responsibility now, and we can’t let it go to waste. If we do--” He paused, looking down. Suddenly, he looked back at her as he moved down from her bed and sat in front of her. 

“If we do, people get hurt. But we can stop it.”

Y/N thought about what he said. It was overwhelming, to say the least. He spoke as though it were both of their responsibilities. As if she didn’t step up, and people got hurt, it was her fault. Their fault. But she was just a teenage kid. She wasn’t even out of high school yet. She didn’t know what she wanted or where she wanted to be. Did this power mean that she was stuck in New York forever?

Thoughts ran through her mind, endlessly. She grasped the carpet beneath her and felt goosebumps rise on her arms. Her body felt stressed and tired.

“Come on,” Peter said, grabbing her hand and knocking her out of her inner thoughts. “How about you play some of that music you like, and we can talk about what our next move is? Then we can sleep and deal with it in the morning-- or, I guess, in a couple hours.” Peter smiled at her.

This time, she smiled back and nodded her head. Standing up, she connected her phone to a speaker and played the song that calmed her down the most. She was going to turn and tell Peter that he still had to sleep on the bed, but he was already snuggled onto the floor, smiling mischievously at her. 

“Pretty song.” He stated. She rolled her eyes and climbed into her bed, lying back and humming. 

“Summertime is meant to fall in love, I could fall asleep and stare in your eyes.”

-

taglist: @romance-geek , @ifangirlninja

[prince-claremont-diaz]

Whatever We Become

Summary: In Lucas’ final year of high school before he has to face the real world, he comes across the new identical twins, Eliott and Leo. Needless to say, Lucas falls head over heels for both of them. 

Or The twin au absolutely no one asked for

Word count: 3.1k

Ao3 version

//I’m so sorry for the delay, I just started up school again and I’m already super busy with work. This chapter is a longer one, so hopefully that makes up for it.//

Chapter Fourteen: Let’s go face the beast

The next morning came with strips of light across the bottom of the bed and the distant sound of cars and people passing by the open window. It came with Lucas resting his head on Eliott's chest as he combed his fingers through the soft brown hair. It came with tender kisses and wandering hands, tangled up in the bedsheets.

Lucas was now lying horizontally across the bed, arms hanging over the sides and brushing the floor. Eliott was using his back as a sort of pillow, the stubble of his chin rough against Lucas' shoulder blades. "Do you believe in parallel universes?" Lucas asked, tilting his head sideways on the bed to glance up at Eliott.

Eliott hummed thoughtfully, tracing one of his fingers over Lucas' back in a fluid, feather-light motion. "I don't know. I suppose there's always a possibility," he said, breath tickling the hairs on the back of Lucas' neck. "What about you?"

Lucas nodded, carefully rolling onto his back so he could peer down at Eliott. Eliott shifted slightly into a more comfortable position, watching him with his usual intense blue-grey stare. "I do. Absolutely." Lucas brushed a strand of hair out of Eliott's face. "I like to think that, if there's an infinite amount of universes, I've done everything. Even if I make a mistake in this one, Lucas number 7364 made the right choice and so on.”

"Has Lucas number one made the right choice with me?" Eliott's voice was soft and uncertain, eyes wide and full of a curious and almost apprehensive twinkle.

Lucas smiled. He sat up slightly, pulling Eliott closer by the back of his neck and pressing a chaste kiss against his perfect lips. "Obviously," he whispered, pressing his forehead against Eliott's.

Eliott nodded, though his smile was lacking in its usual glow that would overpower Lucas every time. He pulled back slightly, sitting up and taking a deep breath. Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Lucas sat up too, pulling his knees to his chest and fixing Eliott with a questioning stare. He could hear the cogs turning in Eliott's head, could almost hear the words dangling on the tip of his tongue. Eliott inhaled heavily, worrying his lip between his teeth.

"There's something I have to tell you."

Lucas swallowed, nodding. "Okay. I'm listening."

Eliott took another deep breath, closing his eyes for a second in a clear effort to calm himself. Whatever it was he wanted to say, it was obviously something important, something serious. Lucas' heart sped up in his chest, thoughts whirring around in his head with all the possibilities. Eliott opened his eyes once again, eyes glassy. "I'm—"

"Eliott, I'm back!" Leo's voice cut through the air, causing Eliott to snap his mouth shut. A second later, Eliott's bedroom door opened to reveal a slightly messier version of Leo Demaury. He was clearly wearing last night's clothes, dressed in blue jeans and a wrinkled colourful button down, a leather jacket clutched in one hand and his brown hair sticking up and in his face.

Upon looking at the two in bed, his eyes bulged and his jacket thudded to the ground. "Shit. S-sorry. I didn't know you were–I should–sorry. I'm–bye," Leo spluttered, face flushed a violent shade of red. As quick as he entered, Leo was grabbing his jacket and stumbling out of the bedroom again, shutting the door behind him.

Eliott squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a surprising amount of air from his nose. Lucas' eyes darted back and forth between Eliott and the door, still stunned at the interruption. Their conversation was shunted to a grinding halt and Lucas had no idea if Eliott would try to pick it back up again. He was still sitting with his eyes shut, scarily frozen.

"Eliott?"

Eliott flopped backwards, head hitting the pillow with a thud and letting out a frustrated groan. He grabbed the other pillow and pressed it into his face before sitting up again. "We should probably go talk to him," Eliott said, dropping the pillow into his lap. Conversation forgotten, clearly.

"Don't you think we—"

"Leo will have brought breakfast. He usually does when he stays out until morning," Eliott interrupted distractedly, clambering out of bed and searching around for a hoodie on his bedroom floor.

"Are you sure?" Lucas asked, watching Eliott pull on his black hoodie over his head.

"Come on. Just–just put something on and let's go face the beast." Eliott waved his hand in Lucas's general direction, dismissive. He bent over to pick up Lucas' shirt from yesterday and tossed it to him. "That should do."

Lucas pulled the shirt on and climbed out of bed, still eyeing Eliott warily. He was much more fidgety than before, eyes going all over the room except for on Lucas, fingers tapping on his thighs and lip tugged between his teeth. "What do you mean by beast? He's not—?" Lucas began to ask before Eliott cut him off again.

"Homophobic? No. Not at all. He was just surprised I think," Eliott replied, reaching for the doorknob. As if he finally felt Lucas' dismay, looking at him again, Eliott added, "Let's go, baby. Please. We'll talk later, okay?" He held out his free hand and Lucas couldn't resist grabbing it and following him out of the room and down the hall and into the kitchen.

What followed was an extremely awkward and mostly silent breakfast in the Demaury kitchen. None of them seemed to want to bring up the very obvious elephant in the room, choosing to eat their respective pastries or bread in uncomfortable silence. When Lucas was finished with his croissant and a cup of coffee, he excused himself with a comment about homework, said he'd see them both later and was out of the flat in less than 10 minutes.

◇

The next afternoon, Lucas was standing on Yann's doorstep in his winter coat and blue hat, knocking on the door with frozen knuckles. Winter had decided to come early that day, waking Lucas up far too early for his liking with a bitter chill. His breath was visible in the air and he knocked once again.

The door swung open another few seconds later and then he was grinning at his best friend. "Lucas! You arrived! Come in, Arthur is already here." Beaming, Yann pulled Lucas inside the house, shutting the door behind them. Lucas heaved a sigh of relief as he was warmed almost instantly from the house's heating system. He toed off his shoes and hung up his coat and hat, following Yann into the living room.

As promised, Arthur was sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the television, controller in hand. Mario Kart was on the screen, Waluigi zooming between the other cars. Upon Lucas' arrival, Arthur said distractedly, "Hey, Lucas. Come and join us." He kept his gaze on the screen, throwing a shell at a passing car. He was in 4th place.

"Wow, I'm so glad I came here to be ignored instead of at the flat," Lucas deadpanned, dropping into the seat beside Arthur and watching him play. Yann, who was sitting in one of the armchairs now, gave him a curious look, tilting his head. "Manon is visiting Charles for some reason and Mika and Lisa are having a 'Say Yes to the Dress' marathon," he explained.

Yann nodded understandingly. A few minutes later, just as Arthur was reaching the last lap, there was another knock at the door. "I'll get it. It's probably Bas," Lucas announced, getting up from his seat and wandering down the hall. He traced his fingers absently along the wall, eyes scanning the various family photos dotted here and there.

When he opened the door, he stumbled back as he came face to face with none other than Eliott. He gave Lucas a sheepish grin, hands tucked into the pockets of his tawny jacket and breath fluttering into the air visibly. He was wearing a black knitted hat and checkered scarf as well. He looked positively gorgeous, as usual.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Can I maybe come in? It's freezing out here," Eliott asked, gesturing to his general vicinity. His cheeks and nose were brushed with faint pink from the cold.

Lucas stepped aside, letting the other pass him and closed the door behind him. He pointed out the coat rack and said, "Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing here?"

Eliott finished hanging up his things and turned back to Lucas. His gaze was unreadable."Yann invited me to hang out. Is that okay?" Eliott asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course it is," Lucas replied, reaching up to brush his fingers over Eliott's cold pink skin in an effort to warm it up, "It's just–after yesterday. I wasn't sure how you felt and stuff."

Eliott sighed, leaning into Lucas' touch and wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. "Breakfast was awkward, I'll admit. But I promise I'll tell you soon, okay?" Lucas narrowed his eyes, still sceptical, but allowed the other boy to press a quick kiss to his lips nonetheless. He was only human.

"Lucas, what's taking so long to–oh!" Yann wandered into the hallway, stopping dead at the sight of Lucas and Eliott standing in the hallway together, practically fondling each other. Eliott pulled away abruptly, face growing pink once again. "Alright then. Cool." And then he was hurrying back to the living room.

Seconds later, before Eliott and Lucas had even followed, there was another knock on the door.

Lucas, Eliott and Basile walked into the living room together, all out of their coats. Basile jumped into the spot next to Arthur and Yann on the couch, leaving only the armchair free. Yann eyed Lucas and Eliott as they stood rather awkwardly, both staring at the empty armchair.

"Okay, are you two going to explain or just stand awkwardly for the rest of the day?" Yann blurted, pulling everyone else's attention on him. For once, Arthur even paused the video game to look at his friend curiously.

"Explain what?" Basile asked, looking between Yann and Lucas and Eliott. Arthur nodded in agreement, glancing over at Yann.

"Well, you guys are always teasing us–mainly me–about liking each other…" Lucas started, drawing out his explanation as he looked individually at his three friends. Yann looked expectant and excited, Arthur, who seemed to have already connected the dots looked shocked yet ecstatic while Basile simply looked confused. "Well, he's my boyfriend."

While Lucas had expected the boys to be supportive and even happy for them, what he hadn't expected was for all three of them to shriek in excitement. Yann practically threw himself on the floor, grinning so wide his face was almost split in two while Arthur put his face in his hands and Basile screamed, "Finally!" Laughing at their friends' reactions, Eliott tugged Lucas into him and he pressed a chaste kiss to his collar, rolling his eyes fondly.

"It's about time you guys actually got over yourselves. Seriously, I thought we were going to have to lock you in a room together," Arthur said once they had finally calmed down enough to speak properly again. The other two nodded emphatically.

"Actually, we already kissed a while ago. We just weren't official until yesterday," Eliott explained, draping an arm around Lucas' shoulders and turning to grin excitedly at him.

"A while ago? As in, you guys didn't tell us you kissed a while ago?" Yann looked positively scandalised, hand to his chest, eyes like saucers.

Lucas shrugged. "Didn't see a point if we weren't dating yet," Lucas said nonchalantly. "Shall we get back to gaming?" Lucas pulled Eliott over to the empty armchair and, while Arthur pressed play again, Eliott sat down in the seat. Lucas settled easily onto his lap, draping his legs over one of the arms and turning to the tv. He adamantly ignored the others' gazes.

As the next round began, Arthur and Basile playing each other, Lucas felt someone poking his shoulder. He turned to find Yann looking at him. "I'm happy for you, man. Really."

Lucas smiled. "Thank you," he whispered, smiling bashfully.

"Seriously. I'm glad you've finally found someone you deserve," Yann said, voice low to avoid anyone else overhearing. At a loss for words, Lucas laughed wetly, shaking his head in disbelief at the good people he was surrounded by. Yann slapped him on the back, giving him one last smile before turning his attention to the tv.

"Everything alright?" Eliott whispered, squeezing Lucas tight as he noticed the tears suddenly falling. He wiped one of them off his cheek using the pad of his thumb, touch soft and warm against Lucas’ skin.

"Never better."

◇

The next day in school, Lucas was on his way to math class from the toilets, only half watching where he was going as he read through the group chat with the boys. He was so busy rolling his eyes at a terrible attempt at a joke from Basile that he didn't see someone coming his way as he started to turn into the maths classroom. In seconds, Lucas was slamming into someone's chest, stumbling backwards onto the ground with a muttered 'fuck' and his phone was flying through the air.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Lu." Lucas looked up from the ground to find Leo standing over him. "Lemme help," he said, offering one of his hands to Lucas. Lucas took it gratefully, allowing the taller boy to yank him to his feet. Lucas thanked him, going over to pick up his phone from where it had landed a few feet away. Thankfully, there was only a small crack in the screen.

Lucas and Leo made their way into the classroom together now, sitting next to each other and taking out their stuff in silence. There was an air of awkwardness still hovering between them after the other day, a muddled tension.

It was Lucas who broke their stalemate, a few minutes into the lesson when they were supposed to be discussing their homework. "Listen, about the other day…" he began, putting his pencil on the table. His voice drifted off with uncertainty, eyes roving around the room in search of the right words, as if his maths class would give him the answers.

Leo interrupted him with a shake of his head. "It's fine, Lucas. I didn't see you naked or anything, at least."

"So you don't care?"

"About what?"

"Like, that I'm dating your brother. That I'm a guy." Lucas whispered the last sentence, glancing sideways as if it was some dirty secret to be kept. His face flushed.

Leo snorted, an absurd grin on his face. "Lucas, of course I don't care. So do I," Leo said, laughing slightly as though he found Lucas' assumption absurd. "Did I give you the impression that I'd mind? Because if so, I'm so sorry."

Lucas shook his head. "Not really. I was just worried in general," Lucas said, smiling sincerely. After a brief silence in which they both looked at the board to see whatever their teacher was droning on about, Lucas spoke up again. "I, uh, didn't know you were gay."

"I'm not, actually. Bi. Eliott's pan and I'm bi. It was a lot for our parents to wrap their heads around as we both came out at pretty much the same time." He chuckled once he finished his explanation, shaking his head. "But they're fine with it. Don't worry. They just didn't get the difference at first."

Lucas nodded in understanding, trying to process the information he was getting from Leo. He didn't care that Lucas and Eliott were dating. He didn't care that they were dating and that Lucas was a boy. He liked boys.

Leo leaned over and whispered in Lucas' ear, "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll love you." Lucas' face burned scarlet and he turned to his neglected work, completely at a loss for words. Leo chuckled at his friend's blush, patting him teasingly on the arm and turning to his own work.

◇

Lucas and Imane were walking together out of biology class, followed by a very amused Arthur and Alexia, bickering about Lucas’ diagram, which Imane thought looked terrible, when they came across Eliott just outside the door. They all stopped to say hello, Lucas pausing the argument with one last glare at Imane before turning to Eliott with a smile.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Eliott asked, jutting his chin away from the rest of their friends.

“Go ahead,” Lucas said, “See you guys later.” Eliott beamed, taking Lucas’ hand and dragging him away while waving goodbye to their friends. He pulled Lucas into a corner at the end of a hallway, glancing over at their friends still talking near the classroom. “What did you want to talk to me about?” Lucas asked after standing in silence for a few seconds.

“I still feel bad about the other day when Leo interrupted us. I really want to explain, but I just haven’t had the chance to yet and it’s not really something I can explain over text or something,” Eliott said, looking at the floor and then back at Lucas.

Lucas shook his head, reaching up to brush his thumb over Eliott’s cheek. His heart skipped a beat as Eliott leaned slightly into the touch, smile brightening. “It’s okay. I understand, Eliott.” Lucas’ voice was soft as a summer breeze, gracing Eliott with his own smile.

“Well, to make amends, I thought I could take you on a date this weekend. Something chill but out of the flats,” Eliott said. Lucas raised his eyebrows, squeezing Eliott’s hand that he was still holding. Eliott looked around and then leaned in closer to whisper, “Somewhere we won’t be interrupted by Leo again.”

Lucas’ face burned, taking a deep breath. “Like what?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and tilting his head back to look at Eliott through his lashes.

Eliott shrugged. “I don’t know. Let me think about it and I’ll let you know.” Lucas’ grin widened, winking and pulling Eliott closer by his lower back. The bell rang for their next class and Lucas groaned, pouting. “I have to get to my next class, but I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Lucas nodded. Eliott grinned, taking hold of Lucas’ cheeks and kissing him chastely a few times before hurrying away to his next class, barely keeping from running into a wall in his haste.

Lucas sighed, watching him go and making his own way to his next class.

//I’m so sorry for the delay, I just started up school again and I’m already super busy with work. This chapter is a longer one, so hopefully that makes up for it.//