#but my feet are gonna be SO READY for the next adventure when these callouses form!

[theriu]

Sometimes, you just gotta go outside in the gorgeous spring weather and walk around town barefoot for 45 minutes playing Pokemon Go and failing to find a shiny ponyta and nevermind that you can actively feel blisters forming on your tender feets that have been swaddled by socks all winter, this is how you built callouses and get your wimpy feet TOUGH

and then you mow the lawn, also while barefoot, and this was actually more of a mistake than walking on concrete barefoot for 45 minutes because you take a couple of ricocheting rocks to the feet, but it’s okay because the weather is still gorgeous and you got exercise and were a good homeowner and also were smart enough to soak your feet really thoroughly before taking a full bath so you only turn the prebath water green

and maybe you’re limping a little pitifully from three or four impressive blisters, but it was worth it and you hardly notice at all the next day after hobbling downstairs and putting on shoes and socks, even later while spontaneously helping your Mom with some gardening (she is very sympathetic and you assure her in between mild whining that it’s really not that bad)

although you do pray not to fall down your very steep old house stairs while bringing your dirty laundry down from the second floor, and maybe bringing it down to the basement where the actual washing machine is can wait until tomorrow when the blisters will hopefully be a bit more healed, also you’re pretty sure the ingrained black from the pavement yesterday will erode off your soles eventually, it’s fine, you’ve taken two baths at this point and they’re definitely technically clean.

[unclewaynemunson]

Something’s off. Steve notices it as soon as he gets home. It’s nothing major, really, but something’s definitely off. There’s this weird silence in the hallway, instead of the usual metal that Eddie is basically blasting 24/7 whenever Steve isn’t home. There’s the absence of Olly showing his little face around the corner of the door to the kitchen upon hearing Steve coming in. There’s also the absence of some crazy scent explosion emerging from the kitchen like on a usual Tuesday evening.

Steve calls out Eddie’s name, questioning, not sure if he should be worried.

“Here!”

He releases a relieved breath and gets into the living room. Eddie is his usual messy self, wild curls hanging over one end of the couch and feet wrapped in colorful socks over the other, with Olly curled up and purring on his chest.

“Hey there,” Steve says. It isn’t until he comes closer to lean down for a kiss on Eddie’s forehead, that he notices something is most definitely very, very wrong. Eddie’s eyes are swollen and red-rimmed, salty traces covering his cheeks and used tissues scattered all over the floor next to the couch. His hands are clenching into Olly’s fur, his chest is heaving unsteadily.

Eddie looks up at Steve, blinks once, twice, to get the water out of his eyes, a fresh tear rolling down his cheek.

“What happened, love?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his own, creating their familiar pile of Olly-Eddie-Steve, his thumb stroking over the back of Eddie’s hand.

Eddie takes a deep, shuddering breath, squeezes his eyes shut for a second. “Wayne’s sick.”

XXX

The thing is, Wayne has always been the strong one. Always. He was the arms that caught Eddie, the hands that wiped away his tears, the lips that kissed his bruises better despite his prickly beard. And now he’s - frail. There’s simply no other word for it. And Eddie doesn’t think he’s ready to be the strong one yet. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. Of course he knows that Wayne isn’t some immortal being, that he’s lived a life of harsh physical labor and cold Indiana winters, of canned beans and breakfast cigarettes since he was only a boy... But this is different. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. And Wayne knows that, too.

“I always thought it was gonna be my lungs that’d do me in,” he tells Eddie.

Eddie never thought of his uncle as an old man. But now, sitting next to his hospital bed, both his hands clasped around Wayne’s, he sees it. He sees the lines on his forehead, the near-white shade of grey of what little hair he has left on his head, the tired look in his eyes, the age spots scattered all over his arms...

Eddie releases one of his hands to wipe over his eyes. He feels another pair of hands squeezing his shoulders from behind him, reminding him that he isn’t alone, that there’s still someone else who can be the strong one when Eddie can’t.

He takes a breath.

“Nothing’s doin’ you in, man,” he manages to choke out, strengthening his grip on Wayne’s hands. Those strong, calloused hands, that have lived through so much. The hands that caught him countless times. The hands that held him tight whenever he needed it. The hands that wiped away his tears. The hands that fixed his van. The hands that ruffled his curls. The hands that held a fishing rod like a pro. The hands that tirelessly drilled holes in walls and assembled furniture when Eddie moved out of the trailer and into the apartment he and Steve got in Indianapolis. The hands that are currently resting limply on top of white hospital sheets. Frail hands.

“Ed...”

“No, I’m serious,” Eddie says. He’s always been good at running. No way in hell he’s gonna stop that habit now. "You're gonna get better. And when you do, we'll take you back home, okay? Not to Hawkins - to your real home. You, me, Steve and the van, right? You’ll see the mountains again. We’re gonna drive all the way across them, get you back to the other side, ya hear me? It’ll be this great adventure, just the three of us. We’ll stay there for as long as we want to. And then we’ll go back to Indy, and you’ll move in with us, and we’ll take care of you. And you’ll be there when we get a real house, you’ll be there when we get our first little nugget, and every next one of them, and you’ll get to play with them and see them grow up and see us goin’ grey and gettin’ old and wrinkled and fat, and you’ll be there when Lord of the Rings gets made into a movie and when world hunger gets solved and when gay marriage becomes legal and when we get our first black president and when The Police reunites... That’s how it’s gonna go, you understand?”

There’s this look in Wayne’s eyes, this look that completely terrifies Eddie, and he can’t do a thing except for collapsing onto his uncle’s chest, breathing in his scent and crying against his shirt as Wayne’s hand tangles itself in Eddie’s curls. And it doesn’t matter - it doesn’t matter that Wayne is weak and sick and lying in a hospital bed. Because he’s still the strong one. He’s still the hands that catch Eddie when Eddie breaks down. Even now.

XXX

They should’ve known that Eddie would be right. Of course they should’ve known. No God can turn down someone as stubborn as Eddie Munson - not even a God Eddie doesn’t believe in.

Wayne missed the mountain air, the perfectly prepared corn fritters, the drool in the voices around him, the natural hospitality. It’s good to be back, to get to share his roots with his boys. But it’s not like coming home. Home is where his own parents moved him some fifty years ago, with dreams of a better future that didn’t quite hold for them. Home is a rickety trailer park that doesn’t have warm water most of the time. Home is the woods around Hawkins, the rolling hills, the chilly autumn wind. But most of all, home is the smile of the boy who took him here. It’s long dark curls and big brown eyes that are currently tearing up because Wayne is standing next to him and getting stronger by the day and very much alive. It’s the memories they share, of Wayne opening his arms to catch Eddie when he was so much smaller than now; of going fishing at Lover’s Lake in the weekends; of cigarette stubs and beer bottles and metal boxes that Wayne chose to not know the contents of; of laughter and crying and fear and comfort and a whole shared lifetime, a boy growing up and still needing to be caught again and again and again.

And Wayne still does it. He still catches his boy. His two boys, now. And he’s planning on keeping to do that for a long, long time.

[d0ughy]

BOTW Champions + Descendents: Helping you after a bad day at work.

Notes: I mostly did this for myself because work is making my physically ill with stress and I’ve been distracting myself from it with LoZ. “OTL   Made this kinda quickly, so pardon any errors. Hope y’all enjoy and tysm for reading! Reader is gender neutral and implied Hylian. Warnings: None, but it’s a little spicy with Urbosa. Teba not included because he has a family asdfghjkl, we’re also gonna pretend Mipha isn’t head-over-heels for Link and that the house in Hateno has a kitchen on the inside. ___________________________________________________________ Ugh, work... A long day spent on your aching feet, running back and forth between helping your co-workers and dealing with rude customers. Tired didn't even begin to describe how you felt by the end of the workday. You take painful, throbbing steps forward to you and your lovers shared home. You trudged on, finally reaching your destination. A small smile growing on your lips, knowing full well you would find solace in your special person as soon as you opened those doors.

-

𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕜________ [post-calamity]

❥ He's preparing dinner in the kitchen when you finally make it home, shooting you a glance as you kick your boots off. ❥ You make your way over to him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder and snaking your arms around his waist. ❥ He offers you a contented hum and tilts his head to rest gently against yours. You knew your lover wasn't much of a talker, so you started with a sigh, "...I had a bad day at work..." ❥ As you list off each horrible occurrence that came your way throughout the workday, you could feel the frustrations bubbling up inside you. ❥ Frustrated tears slowly began to roll down your cheeks and onto Link's shoulder. ❥ You felt him tense and released him as he turned around to face you, the look of concern in his eyes ate at you a little bit. ❥ "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you I just wanted to vent a little..." You case your gaze down and to the side, a little ashamed for spilling tears. ❥ Link gently takes your chin in his hand and raises your face up to meet his, the cool colors of his eyes as deep as the ocean and yet so warm. He takes his other hand and runs a calloused thumb under your eye, wiping your tears. ❥ He shakes his head, dismissing your apology. He doesn't have to say it to get you to understand what he's thinking. ❥ You have nothing to be sorry for, never apologize for feeling the way you do. You are always, always safe to come to me and if you need to cry, I will be that shoulder for you to cry on. ❥ You two stare at each other silently for a bit before you push yourself into his chest, hugging him as tight as you can muster. ❥ He slowly runs his hand up and down your back and offers you soft, soothing shushes and "It's okay"s. Leaves little kisses on the top of your head too. ❥ He will not pull away first, he will stay like that until you are ready to let go. ❥ After you calm down a bit, he pats your head and tells you to sit at the table because dinner is ready, and he just wants to treat you! ❥ You two eat dinner together and he tries his best to distract you from your day, maybe showing you some pictures on the Sheikah Slate or telling you about some stories from his adventures. ❥ After dinner, he offers to clean up. You help him, even though he insists you go relax. ❥ Is very cuddly and soft in bed that night, stroking your hair and peppering little kisses on your face until you fall asleep. ❥ Link is a busy guy, but he will make sure he visits you the next time to work. He might silently wander around the store and keep an eye out for any rude customers. ❥ He acts like a bodyguard until your boss kicks him out for loitering haha. -

ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒________ [pre-calamity]

❥ The Princess is no stranger to working yourself to the bone and knows all the tell-tale signs when someone is doing it. ❥ So, when you come through the door with a grim look and dark circles under your eyes, she knows you had a baaad day. ❥ "Y/n? What's wrong, did something happen?" She quickly approaches you and starts inspecting your face. ❥ You let out a deep sigh, "I had a bad day at work..." Almost a whisper, you knew Zelda had much bigger troubles than rude customers. You didn't want to burden her with something so mundane. ❥ She nods and takes your hand in hers, leading you over to a cushioned couch. "Alright," She begins, "Please tell me about your day." ❥ You blink at her but oblige. You list off every frustrating event that crossed your path and every horrible thing a particularly rude customer had called you today. As you come to the end of it all, you look up into her soft sapphire gaze. ❥ "But I don't wanna bother you with stupid commoner stuff--" ❥ Her eyebrows twitch and she pouts a bit, "It's not stupid commoner stuff! Nothing is stupid or common when it comes to you." Her tone softens and she places a hand on top of yours. ❥ "You always let me come to you after a long day. You always comfort me every time I need you, so please, y/n, let me do the same for you." ❥ You're fighting back tears at this point, so you simply nod. She takes your shoulder and guides you down to rest on her lap. ❥ Zelda runs her nails gently across your scalp and smoothes her fingers through your hair as she offers you advice on dealing with people. ❥ She knows how harsh people can be, as hard as it might seem to believe not everyone loves the Princess. ❥ You can't stay the night, or you might get in trouble with the guards or worse, the King. :(  She kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night. ❥ The next time you're working, she comes to visit. All eyes are on the Princess as she calls for the person in charge of the building. ❥ You're a little wide-eyed and giving her a confused look, she just returns your stare with a cheeky smile. She's up to something.... ❥ When your boss steps forward, the Princess lets him know that you are one of the most valued workers in all of Hyrule and tells him that it's royal orders that you're treated better. ❥ A pay raise! More time off! Anything you want, it's royal orders! ❥ She's doing the best she can for you and you can't help but smile.

-

𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕦𝕜________

❥Big boy is so happy you're home that he doesn't notice your grimmacing as you step into the house. ❥ Picks you up from under your arms and hugs you pretty roughly, oof! ❥ "Daruk..! You're crushing me...!" ❥ :O ! ❥ Immediately puts you down and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry, y/n! I was just excited to see you, I've got so much to tell you about my day! I've finally got Rudania-- Wait..." ❥ Leans down to get a real good look at your face. You're normally wearing a happy expression when you see him, why do you look so down? And are those bags under your eyes? ❥ "Hey.... Y/n, what's going on?" ❥ You sigh, shoulders dropping as you let out all of your frustrations of the day on Daruk. ❥ The entire time he's nodding his head, letting out little "Oh"s and "Mhmm"s with each recollection of miserable events that happened to you today. ❥ Oh, how he wishes he could use Daruk's Protection to protect you from the worries of the world and from the horrible customers that seek you out at work! ❥ The Great Daruk can't though.... But what he can do is offer you an ear to listen and a nice massage. ❥ "My precious stone, let me help you unwind." He kneads your shoulders painfully and just... No. ❥ A massage from a Goron is probably more life threatening than helpful, which he understands. He strokes his beard while thinking for bit, then a smile slowly creeps onto his lips. ❥ He doesn't say anything other than that he'll be back in a bit and to get comfortable, then rolls out the door. When he returns, he's soooo warm to the touch. ❥ He explains he rolled along the lava beds and soaked up some heat just for you. He lays down and pulls you on top of him. ❥ The heat soaks into your aching muscles and you can feel your body slowly unwinding. You fall asleep on top of him, which he doesn't mind one bit! ❥ Comes to check in on you the next time you work, he can't stay super long because he has Champion duties. If he's got a good handle on Rudania, you two will make a lunch date of your lunch break and share a meal on the Divine Beast. ❥ Reminds you how much he loves and appreciates you before you have to head back to work. -

𝕐𝕦𝕟𝕠𝕓𝕠________

❥ Sweet, sweet boy.... ❥ As soon as he sees the exhaustion on your face, he comes running over. ❥ "Woah, y/n! Are you okay, did something happen?!"

❥ Fusses and worries until you sit him down and explain that you weren't chased by bokoblins on the way home, work was just destroying you. ❥  "Oh... My poor y/n." ❥  Takes you in his arms and hugs you as gently as a Goron can muster. Which is still a pretty tight squeeze for anyone else. ❥ Holds you close to him for a while before pulling away, smiling down at you. ❥ "Hey, I have an idea goro. Let's go out to the hot springs!" ❥ Does not want you walking anymore tonight with hurt feet, so he cautiously carries you all the way there. ❥ You two sit close to each other and soak in all that good, warm water. ❥ He's not the softest shoulder to lean on, but you do it happily anyway. ❥ Sits and listens to you vent as long as you need. When you're ready to head back home, he carries you back and tucks you in for bed. ❥ Will visit you throughout the day next time you work, he's worried for you and wants to make sure you're OK! -

𝕌𝕣𝕓𝕠𝕤𝕒________

❥ She already knows you had a bad day before you're even off work. The guards in the city whispered up the grapevine about how you were screamed at by a visitor to the city while working. ❥ The visitor, unbeknownst to you, was also quickly thrown out of the city after leaving the shop. The example made out of them didn't seem to help much though, you were still frustrated and tired by the end of your shift. ❥ When you finally come to your shared room, Urbosa is waiting for you. She's sitting on the bed, patting the spot next to her when you make eye contact. ❥ You slowly walk over, gaze cast downward as you sit beside her. ❥ "So, my jewel, I've heard you've had a rough day?" She places her hand on your shoulder and leans down to look at you. ❥ You place your hand on top of hers and look up, if you didn't know any better, you'd think the serious expression on her face meant trouble. But you do know better. ❥ You can see the softness behind her eyes and almost feel the warm concern she has for you radiating from her. ❥ You nod and vent out all of your frustrations. All of the small, demeaning comments your boss made, all of the annoying customers you had to deal with, how none of your co-workers helped. ❥  You let out everything and how helpless it made you feel that you couldn't do anything back without risking your livelihood. ❥ Urbosa sighed, guiding your head to her chest as she held you. "I'm so sorry, y/n. I hear your frustrations and I wish I could take every last ounce of pain away from you." ❥ You smiled, "Nothing to be sorry about... It means a lot to me to just have you here and listen to me." ❥ She hummed in response then untangled her arms from around you, "Still, I want to do something to help ease your worries." She took your hand in hers and led you to the bathroom. ❥ She drew you both a hot bath, scented with desert flowers.  After undressing, Urbosa guides you in and lets you rest with you back against her chest. ❥ She massages your shoulders and kneads small circles against your exposed back. You can feel the tension in your body melting away under her touch. ❥ Once you're both done in the tub, you two head to bed. She whispers how much she adores you and how strong she thinks you are for being able to handle what you do. ❥ She's too busy with her duties as Champion and Chief to visit you next time at work, but she does assign a few extra guards to stand as security for your workplace. ❥ Behind closed doors, she will be extra soft and affectionate with you. Will also leave you little notes full of positive affirmations on the days you have off, since she can't be with you in person to say it. ❥ Will definitely say it to you though when she comes home.

-

ℝ𝕚𝕛𝕦________

❥ Just like Urbosa, she's already heard through the guards that you've had a rough day at work. ❥ Unlike Urbosa, though, Riju doesn't have anyone thrown out of the city. She's far too kind to do that, plus she knows that you're strong enough to handle being yelled at. ❥ But, when she sees you enter her room with the most exhausted expression and dark circles under your eyes, she feels a little guilty. ❥ "Y/n, my love, how are you feeling? Buliara told me you had quite the day at work." ❥ You toss your sandals off to the corner of the room and flop onto your shared bed. ❥ You stare blankly at the ceiling while you list off all the things that happened today, a co-worker blamed you for their mistake which got you scolded at by your boss, you were yelled at by customers for being out of certain products, your feet hurt, your back hurts, the list goes on. ❥ Riju looks on at you calmly, nodding as she listens to you recount your day. By the time you're done, there are tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. ❥ She quietly comes over to the bed and sits beside you, rubbing her thumbs under your eyes and down your cheeks. Wiping you tears. She leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead. ❥ "I'm sorry y/n," She runs her fingers through your hair, "Don't waste anymore of your energy on those people. Please? For me?" ❥ You smile up at her and nod. She smiles down at you and hops off the bed. ❥ "Come on, y/n. Let's go forget our troubles for the day." ❥ You and Riju head down to the Inn to get massages and the over to the Canteen to get some Noble Pursuit. ❥ It's rare to see the Gerudo Chief so relaxed, but you and the Gerudo people know Riju would do anything for you and let people see a different side of her if it meant making you happy. ❥ Being with you tonight definitely made her happy, her face was not without a smile all night. ❥ The next day, Riju assigns a bodyguard for you. ❥ It's the best she can do while being busy with her Chief duties, so please forgive her!

-

ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕚________

❥ He isn't actually home yet when you come through the door. You take quick glance around and realize he's probably at the Flight Range or up in the sky with Medoh. ❥ You sigh, kicking off your boots and tossing your clothes off in frustration. You change into your pajamas and climb into the hammock you share with your lover. ❥ Laying there in silence, you think back on your day. Every foul-mouthed customer, every impossible demand from your boss, everything. The thoughts made your eyes sting. ❥ You pressed your face into your pillow and let out some stifled sobs, it was your pity party and you'd cry if you want to. And you did until the door to your home suddenly burst open. ❥ You jumped in surprise and just stared as Revali walked in, he placed his bow down and rolled his shoulders. Letting out a sigh, he finally turned to you. ❥ "..Hm? I see you're already in bed and I don't smell any dinner, what's--" ❥ He takes a few steps closer then notices your tear-stained eyes. His eyes widen a bit in surprise while you quickly take to wiping the tears off your cheeks. ❥ "Y/n, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" ❥ "I'm not crying!" ❥ He walks up to you, leaning forward with one wing on the hammock and the other on his hip. ❥ "Really now? Then why are there tear stains on the pillow." ❥ You look down to see that, yes, your pillow had betrayed you. Tear stains exposed for your lover to see. ❥ He hops into the hammock and sits beside you, wings crossed as he listens to you recount your day. The longer you go on though, the angrier Revali seemed to get. ❥ "Why do you let them talk to you like that? You're the lover of a Champion for Hylia's sake, you shouldn't let anyone talk down to you!" ❥ His tone is sharp, but you know it's not pointed towards you. He's mad for you, mad at the people who hurt you. ❥ You're not too sure what to say, muttering out a sorry. He shakes his head at your apology and takes you by the hand. ❥ "There's no reason to be sorry, my dove. Here, let's go get some fresh air." ❥ He takes you on his back and flies you around the village, listing off all the reasons you're so much better than everyone else and how perfect you are to him. May open up a little bit about his own frustrations so you know you're not alone in feeling how you do. ❥  Takes you out to eat afterwards, he doesn’t want you to go to bed hungry. ❥  The next day, he is definitely coming to your work and he is going to play bodyguard. Revali is a stubborn and proud guy, so good luck to your boss if they try to get him to leave. ❥  Will publicly and loudly embarrass any rude customers that approach you while he's there. ❥ Not the softest guy, but he's trying to show you he cares.

-

𝕄𝕚𝕡𝕙𝕒________

❥ We're going to pretend that Mipha isn't head-over-heels in love with Link, but for you! ❥ So, she made sure to get her royal duties and Champion duties done with as quick as she could so she could come visit you at work. ❥ Her heart skipped as she thought of how you might look when she arrives unexpected. How your eyes would light up with excitement, the sparkle in them sparking butterflies in her stomach. ❥ She couldn't wait to see you! ❥ When she peaked her head around the corner of the entrance to your workplace, she was surprised to see the miserable look on your face and to see someone yelling at someone as sweet as you. ❥ As kind as Mipha is, she can definitely be strict when she needs to be. And she definitely needs to be right now. ❥ "Is there a problem here?" She marches forward, toward you and the angry customer. ❥ They stammer, shocked to see the Zora Princess in a place like this, but double down. ❥ "Yeah, there is a problem here Princess," They turn and point a finger in your face, "This person right here--" ❥ "Y/n." ❥ They stop and look at Mipha. ❥ "If you wish to address my fiancée, you will address them by their name. Y/n." ❥ The customer looks back to you then to Mipha, they mutter out a quick apology then dash out the door. ❥ Your boss, seeing the whole exchange, offers you the rest of the day off which you happily agree to. ❥ You and Mipha head up to the falls overlooking Zora's Domain, sitting quietly side-by-side. You roll your shoulders painfully, a small couple of pops sounding out from your aching joints. ❥ Mipha carefully places her hand on your shoulder and you can instantly feel the tension shed away. She's using her healing abilities on your sore muscles. ❥ "I've never seen you so serious, y'know..." You smile at her, breaking the silence. ❥ "Well... I've never needed to be that serious until now," She pauses, "How are you feeling?" ❥ "A lot better, thank-you Mipha." You lean over and kiss she top of her head. ❥ Her eyes widen as blush blooms vibrantly across her face. Hands still healing your shoulders, she shyly adverts her gaze from yours. ❥ You two sit in a comfortable silence until her hands leave your body. ❥ "There, that should do it." She smiles to herself. She looks out over the horizon, seeing the sun setting in front of you two. "We should probably head back to the Domain." ❥ You roll your shoulders again, this time with ease. Your body is definitely feeling the effects of Mipha's healing touch. ❥ You hop up and take her hand in yours, helping her to her feet. You two continue to hold hands as you walk towards the Domain. ❥ "Hey, Mipha. There's something I wanted to ask you about, something you said earlier today." ❥ She hums in response and looks to you. ❥ "When you were talking to that rude customer today... You called me your fiancée--" ❥ She lets out a squeak as she stops in her tracks. ❥ "D-Did I say that?" ❥ Her face is so red, you can't help but laugh!

-

-𝕊𝕚𝕕𝕠𝕟________

❥ This big, sweet boy right here.... ❥ The moment he hears the doors to your shared room opening, he's got the biggest grin on his face. He walks up the doors, arms open ready to embrace you. ❥ You push the doors open and slowly walk past him, kicking your shoes off into the corner of the room. You turn your head to look up at your large lover, he's still eagerly waiting for you but his smile is strained with concern. ❥ You walk into his arms and rest your head against his chest. He embraces you tightly, picking you up and carrying you over to your shared bed. ❥ He gently places you onto the bed then places his finger on his cheek, thinking as he stares down at you. ❥ "My pearl, may I ask... Are you alright?" His tone is warm but laced with worry. ❥ You let out a long sigh, "No...." Your voice straining as you fought back frustrated tears. ❥ Sidon's eyes widen as he quickly sits beside you, looking you over. ❥ "What's wrong, y/n? Are you hurt? Did something happen?" His sad puppy eyes almost make you feel guilty. ❥ "It was just a bad day at work Sidon, you don't have to worry." ❥ "Well, I most certainly will worry if a bad day has made you this upset. Please, dear, tell me what happened." ❥ He lays beside you, leaning his head down to look into your eyes. Even when laced with worry his amber eyes are still full of warm and love. ❥ You begin recounting your day, all the bad things that happened and all the people you had to deal with. ❥ It hurts his heart to hear that anyone could treat you, the love of his life, so poorly! ❥ He places a hand on your cheek, stroking your face with his thumb. Despite the rough texture of his skin, his motions were so soft it still felt soothing. ❥ He kisses your forehead then pulls you close to him. Placing a hand on the back of your head, he rakes his fingers down your hair. ❥ Sidon spends the night telling you how much he loves you and how he wishes he could take your pain from you. You deserve so much better than what you've been dealt. ❥ Peppers your face with kisses as his much larger body envelopes you. He wraps his limbs around you and cuddles you long into the night. ❥ He will check on you the next time you work and will take you out to lunch on your break. ❥ Might forget to actually eat during lunch because he's so focused on making 100% sure you're doing okay and reminding you how much he loves you.

[vanillanaps]

Unfaithful | Steve Rogers

Summary - You promised yourself it was the last time you’d see him. The last time you canceled on your boyfriend to meet up with him. The last time you’d lay naked beneath his sheets as he was buried between your thighs, but promised where meant to be broken.

A/n - y’all it’s been so long since I wrote smut, please just bear with me. The ending is also lowkey bad, idk y’all.

Category - Fem!Reader, angst, smut

Warnings - poorly written unprotected sex, arguments, cheating (I do not condone cheating) fluff at the end, I guess?

Word Count - 3.4k

♡♡♡♡

You shouldn’t be here, doing this, with him. It was wrong, it was so wrong and you knew that. Your boyfriend didn’t deserve the pain you’d been putting him through this past year, but you couldn’t help it. The way his calloused, soft hands felt running up and down your naked sides, his plump pink lips trailing kisses from your lips, down to your neck and across your shoulders. Or the way his piercing blue eyes gazed into the souls of yours, reading you like an open book. He was new, exciting and adventurous. The moment you met him, you knew it was something different about him. How he walked, talked and even presented himself. When he made that first move against you and even then you couldn’t resist him, not even when your boyfriend was a few feet away from you.

The presence of a body pulled you from your thoughts as the steam of the hot water pouring from the shower filled your senses, “You alright?”

You nodded softly, pushing away the intrusive thoughts and letting yourself have this moment. Your bottom lip was brought in between your lips at the feeling of those cherry red lips being traced against your steaming skin, “Steve, we can’t. I have to go.”

“I just need you once more before you go.” He whispered to you, his hands resting on your hips while he pressed his front up against your backside, letting you feel his hardness for you all over again. A soft moan escaped your mouth at the touch of his hard shaft flesh against your ass. You weren’t sure why you tried, knowing that each and every time, you’d melt right back into his arms without him doing much convincing.

You turned in his hold, not wanting to loiter for a moment longer, your lips found his. His hands circled around to your back, pulling you close to him. Turning the two of you around, he pushed you up against the cold titled wall, he took the chance of your lips parting with a gasp to slip his tongue in. The kiss grew heated and hands began to travel. Yours around his neck and his down to your thighs to lift you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Steve, please.” You muttered against his mouth, sighing when his shaft brushed against your folds, teasing you tremendously.

“I’ve got you.” He’d answer back. It was true, he always had you.

Your head fell back against the shower wall as he sunk himself into you. His breath shuttering against your neck as your walls squeezed him like no tomorrow, still a throbbing mess from your earlier sessions that you were supposed to be scrubbing off. His grip on your thighs tightened, thrusting up into you. Your moans filled the steamy shower as his heavy cock stretched the walls of your pussy, nails clawing at the nape of his neck while he fucked you endlessly. Steve dipped his neck down, tongue trailing against your breast, trying to bring you the most immense pleasure he could before you left him again. He knew you wouldn’t last long around him, but he figured he’d make you cum once more before you were gone.

“Fuck, please don’t stop!” You moaned, now tucking your head into his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.

“Gonna cum already?” He asked, not even needing the answer. He knew by the way that sweet cunt of yours tightened, just nearly squeezing the life out of him, “gonna make a mess all over me again?”

You nodded desperately, your back trying to arch, “I’m so close.”

Steve widened his foot stance, repositioned his arms to hook under your knees to spread you wider for him. Picking his pace up, his hips snapped against yours, pelvis brushing up against your clit and his balls slapping up against your ass. He smirked through his groans at the feeling of tightening up around him, “That’s it baby, cum for me.” A cry left your throat as you followed his commands and released all over him, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm til his thrust sputtered to a complete stop and his load shot heavy into you.

If he was being truthful, he didn’t want to let you go. If he had it his way, he’d lay you in his bed and cook you a nice lunch as you slept away the last five orgasms he gave you, but that wasn’t his place. He was there for a fuck and then you’d go home to the man you claimed you loved. But how could you love him when you were here with Steve? How could you love him when you went back home nearly every night with Steve’s cum still leaking out of you. How were you still his?

♡♡♡♡

You felt his eyes burning holes into your back as he watched you dress yourself. Pulling that black dress he bought you down over your hips to wear for another man, “When can I see you again?”

There it was, the question that you knew he’d been itching to ask. Lately, you've been distant with him. Trying to dodge his phone calls and avoid his text, only making it at least two days but then you’d find yourself tangled in his sheets for the next few nights. But tonight was supposed to be different, it had to be. This was the last night you’d spent with him. The last night you’ll put more strains on your relationship for the man that lounged on his bed in nothing but sweats, “I can’t do this anymore.”

You didn’t need to turn around to see him rolling his eyes, you heard it, “You do this bullshit every week. You say you’re done and then I end up right in between your legs. Just stay.”

“Steve, I can’t and you know that!” You avoided his words, knowing the truth behind him.

“Give me one good reason why you can’t?” He questioned, getting up from the bed and following behind you as you collected your belongings.

“Because I love him. He’s my boyfriend and I should be there with him, not you.” You shot back.

Steve scoffed, “You love him, yet you’re here fucking me on your anniversary with him? Oh wow, he’s a lucky guy!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You whipped around, pointing a finger in his face, “You knew what this was when we first started! I told you from the beginning what it was going to be and it’s not my fault that you caught feelings! I’m happy where I am!”

“I’m not gonna sit here and act like I don’t see through your facade.” Steve stepped to you, pushing your hand from his face as he slowly backed you into a wall, “You don’t love him, you’re comfortable with him. He’s all you know, your safe place. Someone who will always be there when you crash and burn. You’re scared to let me in because I actually make you feel something. I challenge you, I put excitement into your life and that scares the shit out of you because you think one day it’ll come to an end. That I’ll leave and we’ll never see eachother again.”

“You’re wrong.” You spat, he’s right.

“No, I’m not.” Steve shook his head, his anger fading away. He didn’t want to be angry at you, he wanted you to see the truth. He wanted you to see what good you had standing in front of him and what you could make a life out of, “He bores you. It’s been the same thing since high school. You told me this. You’re keeping yourself in a relationship that’s already over. It’s been over the moment we came in each other’s lives, why can’t you see that?”

“Steve..” You breathed, lip trembling as his words started to hit home. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, he only wanted you to see him.

He let his thumb softly wipe away the tear that dared spill over your tear duct, his hand coming to caress your cheek before his fingers slide down to take your chin between them and titling your head up, “Let me be the man that makes you happy. That keeps you feeling young and excited everyday. Let me be the one to tell you that I love you everyday for the rest of our lives.” His eyes searched yours finding them completely conflicted. A small slither of hope filled his chest, this was the furthest he ever got with you in this conversation. His head lowered to place his lip on yours, placing small pecks upon them, “I love you, let me love you.”

For a moment, you took pleasure in the situation. His lips repeatedly pressed against yours in a soft manner as he confessed his love for you. You let yourself have a glimpse at your future with Steve. He was right, he did excite you, challenge you and bring adventure into your life. With Steve, there was no telling where the future might take you. The infatuation you had with him is what kept you coming back to him, but it’s also what kept you an arms length away. Knowing that at any moment, this relationship you’d built with Steve could be taken away. He could start loving someone the same way he started loving you. What if he got bored of you? What if you were only excited because you belonged with somebody else and there was a thrilling edge of being caught when he would be balls deep into you as your boyfriend called. There were too many what if’s. With the man you called yours, you knew it would be forever. That’s why you couldn’t let yourself love Steve Rogers.

“Stop, stop.” You muttered, placing your hand on his chest to push away, “I-I can’t.”

“Don’t do this, please.” He sighed as you slipped from his grip and continued to gather your belongings. His heart was nearly ready to jump out his chest as he watched you walk towards his front door, hand on the knob, “If you leave, then that’s it!” He called, stopping you in your tracks, “I’m tired of being your back up when you aren’t happy with him! It’s been a year and I’m tired of waiting. If you—if you walk out that door, then I’m done! It’s over!” Steve’s chest bounced heavily, nerves running through his body as he watched your frozen stance, but what could he have expected? You didn’t leave your boyfriend then, so why would you leave him now?

“I hope you have a nice life, Steve.” Without even a glance back, you walked out of his apartment and out of his life.

♡♡♡♡

Checking your eyes once more, dabbing away in puffiness in your eyes just before you crossed the threshold of Darren’s apartment, “Babe? Baby, I’m here!” Closing the door behind you, setting your keys and purse on the entry table, “I’m sorry I’m late! Traffic was crazy.” You lied smoothly, turning the corner to see your boyfriend sitting at the opposite end of the dining room table, hands folded in his lap, candles burned down to the middle and food that had looked like it had been sitting for a while, “What’s all this?”

“Well, I had a dinner planned for our anniversary.” He spoke, getting up from his chair to make his way over to you, “But clearly you had better things to do.”

You were taken back by his words. There had never been a time that Darren had spoken to you with that kind of tone, but then again, there had never been a time you’d been late for an anniversary dinner, “Darren, there was traffic. What did you want me to do? Tell them to hurry up? Run through it?”

“Yeah, well that excuse would be valid if it didn't take you nearly three hours to get here when you only live twenty minutes away.” He moved around you, blowing the candles out.

“Okay, baby wait.” You sighed, grabbing his hand to stop him from clearing the table, “I woke up from my nap late and was just completely off schedule and you know how much I hate when you comment on my time management.” Darren stopped letting you pull him towards you, “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it up to you. I’m here now so let’s just warm the food up and enjoy it, yeah?”

He looked down to your pleading eyes before giving you a small nod, “Okay.”

“Okay, good. I’ll go warm up the food and meet you on the couch.” Placing a small kiss on his cheek, you grabbed the plates of food and made your way to the kitchen. A breath of relief came from you as you loaded a plate into the microwave. You knew that you’d be late, but being three hours late and using traffic as your excuse nearly blew your cover. You knew you couldn’t keep doing this to him, which is why you ended it with Steve. Darren had been nothing but good to you and you were doing him wrong in the worst way because only did to fuck another man, but you fell in love with him.

The night was slow and awkward. You tried to converse, ask him about his day, how work was, and what his plans were but all you got back was ‘it was okay’, ‘it was work’, and ‘probably nothing’. You slightly frowned at his responses, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have a right to be upset. Deciding to make it up to him, you set your plates down and crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him slowly, “I’m sorry.” You muttered against his lips. At first, you’d thought he’d forgiven you when his hands came to your waist, but it was to only push you away, “What’s wrong?”

Darren sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch staring up at the ceiling, “...You still smell like him.”

You faltered, pulling away slightly, “Wh-what?”

He brought his hands up, rubbing them over his face, “Usually when you come back from being with him, it’s faint. No matter how much you try to scrub him off you, I assume it’s because the two of you shower together, but it’s like today you didn’t even try.”

“You knew?” You questioned. Since when? For how long? Why is he just now saying something? Had he known each and every time you’d come from Steve’s apartment? Did he know the few times Steve came to your apartment?

Darren scoffed, slowly sliding you off his lap, getting up from the couch, “Is that all you have to say to me? If I knew? Of course I knew! My girlfriend is out there getting fucked by another man and you think I didn’t know? All the late night calls and text messages. When you're ‘working overtime’. Being too sick to come see me, but in reality, you’re with somebody else. Coming here with missing panties, yeah I’ve noticed! All these new clothes that you can’t fucking afford because you make minimum wage and can barely pay rent for that apartment you have!” He raged, pacing the living room back and forth, “Then you come in here, three hours late on our fucking anniversary, smelling like him! You fucked him. You fucked somebody else on a day we were supposed to celebrate our relationship!”

“I'm sorry! I broke it off with him! It’s done! I’ll never see him again!” You tried to reason, tears threatening to spill, getting up from the couch as you made your way towards him, trying to take his hands into yours to keep him from pacing, but he only snatched his away, “Darren, please! I swear it’s over!”

He stopped his pacing, his breath deepening as he tried to calm himself, “How long have you been seeing him?”

You gulped figuring that you lied and hurt him enough. He didn’t deserve what you put him through, you’re causing him nothing but pain, “A year.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, “A year. A fucking ye—“ He paused, eyes finding yours and looking into what felt like the depths of your soul, “Do you love him?”

Your heart dropped, mouth running dry, “Darren, don’t make me answer that.”

He took a step closer to you, “Do. You. Love. Him?”

Tears finally fell, wetting your cheeks as you nodded.

“Get out.” He started, you went to testify but he just shut you down, “I don’t want to hear anymore of your excuses. Just—leave! Go! I don’t wanna see you ever again!” You watched as he stomped around the apartment before finally getting to the single bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him.

This is what you deserved. You didn’t have a right to cry, to be upset for him kicking you out. You had sealed your fate months ago when you first stepped out on him with Steve. You sealed your fate once you continued to sleep with Steve even after you had fallen in love with him and now, you’d lost both of them.

♡♡♡♡

The days passed slowly as you fell in a rut. How did you allow yourself to end up here? Alone, sad and broken. The two most important people no longer in your life. Both had been completely fed up with your shit and could you blame them for it? No. If you were being truthful, you would’ve done the same. If you were Darren, you would’ve left him the moment you knew. If you were Steve, you wouldn’t allow him to string you along as far as you did to him. God, were you a bitch. But a bitch who couldn’t help what she felt.

The days didn’t slow because Darren wasn’t in your life anymore. You could live without the schedule days that had been the same since you met Darren. There was no change, the excitement started and ended in highschool, but you stayed for your own selfish reasons that had now turned its back on you. It had left you cold and alone in the world, with no one to turn to, not even friends. They’d left you behind to go travel the world once college was over while you chose to settle down with the man that had no true desire for the adventures of life. He still didn’t deserve what you did.

But then there was Steve Rogers. The man you had gotten so easily infatuated with in so little time. You were at his beck and call, more of him crawling to you as you kept him on a string. Again, for your own selfish reasons. Steve’s life scared you. His days weren’t planned to a T, he didn’t schedule out breakfast, lunch and dinner. There wasn't any planned bedroom time and the sex was far from vanilla. Steve was wild, reckless and carefree while still being wholesome and loving all in one. You knew what your heart wanted. Back then, you were scared to follow it. But now, after having a taste of loosing it all, you said fuck it. You’d dive headfirst into this if you had to, if you even still had the chance to.

Your mind ran a mile a minute as your legs carried you into the apartment building and up the familiar staircase you had been through so many times before. Flashbacks of you being pressed against almost every inch of these walls at least once by him as the two of you could barely make it to his apartment on the third floor. A soft smile at the memory as you came face to face with his front door. Taking a deep breath and raising your fist, knocking against the tall wood.

Moments passed before the door swung open, your eyes meeting those stunning baby blue ones that you didn’t realize you missed so much, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Steve responded, leaning his body against the doorframe. The silence took over for a moment before he spoke up again, “I’m guessing you two..?”

You nodded, “Yeah, we did. You were right.”

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he stood straight, motioning towards him. Relief ran through your body as you allowed yourself to be buried into his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent. The smallest of smiles curled into your lips as you felt his press against your temple, his arms wrapping around you tighter for a moment longer, before he guided you into his apartment.

This was the start of new beginnings.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 4

Masterlist

Thank you as always to my best friend and Beta reader @acollectionofficsandshit​ for putting up with me and my ramblings ♥

Word Count: 3.8k

Recommended song: "ily (I love you baby)" by Surf Mesa and Emilee

You'd never been more thankful that you kept a change of clothes in your car than you were after the race at Silverstone. You'd showered again, changing back into the sweaty tee and leggings. The clean emergency hoodie and jeans were a blessing, and casual enough for a night on the town.

Most of the crew had left, only a few poor souls pouring over race data or packing up essentials. James let you into the trailer yard this time without hesitation. "We really should just get you a key," He teases, "Sure would make my life easier."

Rolling your eyes, you give the tower of muscle a pitiful shove. He doesn't move an inch. "Thanks James. I'll ask Pierre to look into it."

A sudden wave of tiredness washes over you when you make it back to the trailer. You flip through the channels on the tiny television, settling on an analysis of the day’s race.

“And a brilliant drive from young Pierre Gasly, wasn’t it John?”

“I completely agree Martin. Gasly took advantage of every slip up by Mercedes and Red Bull and he has to be commended for that. Max made some rare mistakes and…”

You smile to yourself, their praise washing over you. Yawning, you curl up on Pierre's bed, the familiar smell of cedar lulling you into a light sleep in minutes.

**********

A gentle touch to your cheek wakes you some hours later. You crack your eyes open, greeted by a smile brighter than the stars in the night sky. You taste eternal sunshine on his lips when you kiss him, your soul sparking in response to his light.

"Good morning," He murmurs, thumb rubbing along your jaw. "Sleep well?"

You snuggle closer to him, eyes closing once more as you soak up the warmth. "Is it time to go out already?"

"It is. But we can stay here if you want to." He brushes a stray hair off your face. The gesture is so tender, if you didn’t know any better you’d never guess he could turn into the seasoned, take-no-shit racer you’d seen hours before. 

You shake your head. You couldn't let him miss out on celebrating his victory with his closest friends. Besides, you hadn't seen any of them for a span of time longer than a few minutes in months, and truth be told, you missed them all. 

Those boys had a knack for turning the simplest of outings into unforgettable adventures. You had been sworn to secrecy on numerous occasions after Pierre recounted drunken escapades that usually ended with Max sleeping somewhere preposterous, like a claw-footed bathtub in a fancy suite.

“Where are we going?” You ask sleepily. “Somewhere nearby?”

Pierre tugs you up until you’re sitting. He pulls you back against his chest, arms wrapping around you as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe ten minutes away.”

You lean your full weight against him, admiring how perfectly your bodies slot together. “Can I leave my car here?”

“As long as you’re okay with it staying here until tomorrow, that’s fine.” He coaxes you to stand and presses a kiss to your temple as a reward. Your limbs are still heavy and uncooperative. Pierre winds an arm around your waist, supporting you and assuming the position of your rock as he always did.

"You don't sleep here," You state simply, looking at him for confirmation. He shakes his head.

"Wouldn't be enough room for two anyway." He gestures to the tiny twin sized bed and shrugs.

Your brow furrows. “Am I staying with you tonight?” You honestly had not considered it. The jet usually left early and you had assumed he would want to get as much rest as possible. But now that you had experienced waking up next to him, you realize how much you want his face to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes each morning.

“Of course you’re staying with me. I’m taking every second of your time that I can get.”

You bite your lip and lay your head on his shoulder. The idea of falling asleep in his arms was enough to shake any lingering sleepiness. “Okay.” Confident that you could hold yourself up, you step out of his grasp. “Ready.”

The few mechanics roaming about the grounds are enough to keep you cautious. You walk through the paddock a hair's breadth apart, although every nerve screams for you to touch him. Every time your arm grazes his, electricity ripples across your skin. All you want to do is hold his hand, but there’s enough prying eyes that you restrain the impulse.

You can tell he feels it too by the way his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. And he's biting his cheek, you notice. A nervous habit of his and a clear indicator that he'd retreated inside his own head, likely contemplating if he'd truly deserved to win today or not.

Every few months his doubts crept in, the devil on his shoulder reminding him that Horner hadn't deemed him good enough to keep his seat at Red Bull after only a handful of races.

You'll never be as talented as them, is what you'd imagined it whispered. They're only here because they pity you. What makes you think you deserve a seat?

It couldn't be farther from the truth. Deep down, Pierre knew that. Driving in Formula 1 meant being under constant scrutiny from the public and sportscasters. Making an error meant debates about whether you were good enough and rumors about seat security.

There were no such errors today. You'd heard the commentary after the race; everyone was raving about his performance. Not one person had dared say he didn't deserve it.

Not wanting him to suffer alone, you subtly wrap your pinky finger around his. "You're okay," You say softly, his head whipping to you. "You deserved that trophy today. It was some of the best driving I've ever seen, everyone agrees. You deserve a trophy every time you get in that car. You'll always be my champion, even if the world tells you otherwise."

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but he nods and releases your pinkie. "You're my grounding rod," He says, lips curling in a knowing smile, and you can't hold back your laugh.

"Leave it to you to turn a romantic moment into a cheesy one." Instead of saying you're my rock like any normal person, he had to bring up the time you'd embarrassed yourself at the bar a year or so ago. He'd let you prattle on to poor Dan about building grounding rods of all things, and how you'd thought your professor's way of designing such a system was flawed. Pierre would never let you live that down, it seemed.

Max spots the two of you first, waving from where the boys had gathered outside Red Bull. “About time you showed up! We’ve been waiting for ten minutes!”

“She fell asleep,” Pierre says simply, his confidence back. “Takes her awhile to wake up.”

“Whatever, I’m just glad you’re here,” Daniel says, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you tight to his side. You couldn’t help the broad smile creeping onto your face, twin to the aussie’s as you hug him back. 

“We missed you,” Charles says, falling into step beside you. “I never hear from you anymore!”

You grimace. It was true, while the three boys had texted you quite frequently the past few months, you had barely responded to them. You felt guilty about it, knowing they were taking time out of their packed schedules to catch up. But uni had been kicking your ass and the only one you’d found time for was Pierre. Looking back, you were glad he had been the exception.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say. “Lots of projects.”

“And that new internship,” Max points out. Your eyebrows flick up, gaze flicking to Pierre. You had been awarded an internship a month or so ago at a local engineering firm in London. It was only part time work, a few hours a week, but it was enough. The only one you had told was Pierre.

Pierre grins, the gesture a silent apology. “I may have spilled the beans.” 

You cut him a glare, the others laughing at your attempt at being intimidating. But you couldn’t turn away from him, not when he was looking at you with the same pride you had felt when he’d won earlier that day. 

“Uber’s here,” Charles announces, checking his phone.

“Where?” Daniel asks, and Charles indicates a black SUV parked at the curb. Daniel and Max exchange a look, shouting “Shotgun!” at the same time. Both boys break into a full sprint, feet pounding on the pavement. Daniel wins - barely, leaving Max and Charles to squeeze into the back seat.

Pierre follows you into the third row of seats, his hand immediately engulfing yours. Your stomach flips, glancing up to find a reassuring smile on his face. You could barely focus on what was said for the first half of the ride, hyperaware of the callouses rubbing your skin. The world around you erupts into color at the touch, completing the part of you that you’d never realized was missing. 

The remainder of the drive is filled with laughter, jokes, and plenty of selfies with the driver. It wasn’t every day one could brag about having four world class drivers in your car; you couldn’t blame the man for being excited.

By the time you arrive at the bar, your sides are already splitting with laughter. “First round is on you, Ricciardo,” Charles says, wagging a finger at him. “Punishment for bringing up the Abu Dhabi incident again!”

“Jokes on you, I was already planning on it!” He glances at you and winks. “Gotta congratulate the winner somehow, right?” Little did the Australian know, you had already congratulated Pierre a few hours ago, and you doubted that a few shots would outshine that performance. You hope the pink tinge that rises to your cheeks with the memory isn't obvious and you duck your head just in case.

A blast of air conditioning hits you as you all stumble into the bar. All eyes fell to you and the ragtag group of drivers when you entered, silence blanketing the patrons. The bartender slams a fist on the wooden bartop, rattling glasses and making you flinch.

“Been wonderin’ when you lot were gonna show your ugly mugs!”

Daniel, Max and Charles erupt into friendly laughter, shaking the man’s hand and making small talk. You look to Pierre for an explanation.

“Tradition,” He murmurs. The noise returned to a normal level around you, though you could feel the glances thrown your way. “We come here every year, but only if one of us wins at Silverstone. Been awhile since that happened.”

"Ah," You say, nodding dramatically. "Yes, very long time." Pierre grins, shaking his head.

"Who won this year?" The man - William, Pierre informs you- asks. He towered over you when you sat on the sticky bar stool, tall and lanky but well muscled and certainly not someone you would expect patrons to try disrespecting. He was already pouring five shots of a fine Irish Whiskey, waving Daniel off when he tried to start a tab. “My treat.”

Max claps a hand on Pierre's shoulder. "This one claimed the crown, for once!"

"Wey hey!" William says, passing out the shots. "Everyone else crash out or what?"

"You should watch the replay," You say, knocking Pierre's shoulder with your own. "It was amazing. The move he used to get past Max-" you bring your pinched fingers to your lips in a chef's kiss. "Gorgeous."

"Much to Max's despair," Charles adds, raising his shot. "To the underdog!"

You all echo the sentiment, the boys knocking back the strong alcohol with practiced ease. It didn't go down as smooth for you, burning your throat and making you wince.

Daniel laughs. "Not used to drinking with us anymore, huh?"

"Must have lost my edge," You say, the woody taste lingering in your mouth. "I'm sure it'll hit me hard in a half hour or so, too."

**********

Well, you weren't wrong about the alcohol hitting you like a punch to the gut. Two shots later and you were swaying like a sailor on his first excursion out to sea, Pierre's shoulder the only thing keeping you from toppling off the bar stool. 

Pierre's eyes were bright as the others poked fun at him, William joining in with a witty remark now and then. His laugh wrapped around you like a warm blanket, keeping you content and grounded.

"Hey Pierre," Daniel says at one point, "Don't look now but that table of girls has been obsessed with you all night."

Pierre, blitzed as he was, pays no attention to Dan's warning and turns around. A loopy grin was plastered on his face, turning back and shaking his head.

You may not have been able to think straight, but your stomach lurches. Instantly sobering slightly, you follow Dan's gaze to the indicated table to your left. Three beautiful women sat there, whispering behind their hands and clearly speaking about Pierre. One bit her lip and caught your eye, giggling. Her looks were universally attractive enough that she would be anyone’s type, Pierre included. The possessiveness in the gaze she raked over his body set your blood boiling. 

This… was not a scenario you wanted to play out. You didn't know if Pierre was ready to tell his friends about your relationship yet. You knew he wouldn't let any of those girls have the light of day, but he might let them fawn over him a little, just to protect your secret. And it would kill you, but you would have no choice but to let it happen.

"I'm good," Pierre says, sipping the beer he had been nursing all night.

"Come on mate," Max pushes, a wicked grin on his flushed face, "That blonde is so your type."

No she isn't.

You’re already staring up at Pierre when he turns to you. You have always worn your emotions on your sleeve for anyone to see, and it only got worse when mixed with alcohol. Pierre smiles softly, taking mercy on you. Slowly, he takes your hand and threads your fingers together before turning back to the boys.

"One of you can tell them I’m not interested. I already have my girl." 

Heart beating wildly, you scan your friends faces. They were all wide eyed and slack jawed, staring at your joined hands. Pierre gives your hand a gentle squeeze, reminding you to breathe. He read you like an open book, offering reassurance when you needed it most.

"It's about fucking time!" Daniel roars, breaking the tense silence. Your shoulders relax, grinning along with the others. Pierre beams at you, knocking your shoulder to say I told you so. 

"Does this mean I get a break from listening to you obsess over her every weekend?" Max asks, giving you a meaningful look. 

"Likely not," Pierre answers. "I'm still just as obsessed as before. Maybe more." Max pretends to gag, earning him a playful punch from Charles. God, it was so freeing for your relationship to be more open, even if it was just between your closest friends. 

"I'd just like to point out that I told you two this would happen years ago," Charles says matter of factly, pointing at Max and Dan. "Should've taken you up on that bet."

Your mouth hung open. "You were going to bet on us being a couple?"

"Oh come on," Max says, rolling his eyes. "We all knew it was coming eventually. We just didn't know when!"

Pink stains your cheeks, but Pierre laughs and leans in to kiss you. Remembering the girls behind you, you press a little closer to him. Under the guise of placing a kiss to his cheek, you meet the blonde's eyes and smile sweetly.

The woman preens, mouth twisting. Good. Pierre was yours, and now that he'd admitted it, you could let those girls know it. His hand slips to your thigh, squeezing hard. A clear warning that you were venturing into dangerous territory. You didn't care.

The alcohol in your veins makes you bold, and you want to drive your point home. They could look all they wanted, but he was coming home with you. You push the boundary farther and bite the soft skin of his neck just hard enough to leave a mark. Pierre's hiss finally makes you pull back and look up at him innocently.

"Get a room," Daniel teases with a wink. You smile at him, mumbling an insincere apology. Your point had been made. The arrogant smirk had been wiped from the woman’s face, replaced with a grimace. 

"I think it is time for us to get going," Pierre says, annoyance flashing across his face. Oh, you had stoked the fire and now you would have to face the consequences. 

"We're just getting started," Charles complains. Pierre slaps a few bills on the counter and gets up without responding. 

"Bye guys!" You call over your shoulder as Pierre drags you towards the door. They all wave back, Max's lower lip jutting out in a pout. Your eyes slid one more time to the blonde, who had her arms crossed over her chest. You give her a wicked, taunting grin and return her earlier wink.

Pierre halts so quickly that you run into him. “Why are we leaving?”

“You know why,” He growls, flagging down a cab. “You didn't like how she was looking at me, so you did something about it. You might not have noticed, but every man in that bar had their eyes on you. So I’m following your example and doing something about it.”

Your brow furrows. Pierre won’t meet your gaze, and your eyes fall to the purple mark on his neck. You didn’t like his tone; it bordered dangerously on anger. “Are you… Are you mad that I did that?”

Tears threaten to spill when he finally looks at you. God, you were a blubbering drunk.  When your lip wobbles, his anger fades and he sighs. “I’m not mad. I just… I didn’t think you’d want me flaunting our relationship yet. When you did this-” He gestures to his neck- “I could barely keep my hands off you. Not when I saw the guy walking up to you.”

You sniff, trying to conjure the image of the bar. “I didn’t notice anyone.”

“Yeah, cause I dragged you out here before he could say anything.” Pierre pulls his hood up and sighs. “Trying to catch a cab here is harder than overtaking Hamilton.”

You laugh harder than you should at the off-hand remark, following after him as he trudges down the sidewalk. “Why are you not drunk? I feel like you should be drunk. You won a race. They were feeding you shots one after another.”

“One of us had to be responsible and make sure we got home okay.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “And I knew as soon as you had that first shot it would have to be me. Didn’t you notice me handing the shots to the other guys?”

“No,” You say, rubbing your eyes. “What about the boys? How are they gonna get home?” Pierre stops, forcing you to do the same. He tugs your hood up, makes sure his is secure enough to hide his face, and grabs your hand.

“I already told Seb to come round them up in an hour or so. They’ll be fine.”

You don’t respond, too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other and not fall on your face. It doesn’t help that your vision is a tad blurry. Finally you give up and whine, “How much further?”

“It’s right there,” He says, pointing at a towering glass building just across the street. “In five minutes, you can be tucked into a cozy, fluffy suite and you can rest all you want, my love.”

You hum at the words, warmth flooding your veins from more than the liquor. “I like that.”

“What, the building?” He asks, amused. He helps you cross the empty street, making sure you’re paying attention to where you’re going.

“Noooo, what you said,” You clarify, leaning on him as you try to navigate the handful of steps leading to the hotel.

He’s quiet until you reach the elevator. “My love,” He murmurs, and you grin up at him.

“Mon… mon coeur,” You manage to say, somehow pulling the French phrase out of the dregs of your memory. The words are slurred and you know that you absolutely botch the pronunciation, but the intent is clear. You may have lived in France since you were 18, but learning the language wasn’t a requirement when almost everyone knew english as well. But the two of you had spent many hours watching Pierre’s favorite french films over the years; some of it must have unintentionally rubbed off on you.

A disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “How do you even know what that means?”

You shrug. “Just do.” The elevator doors open and you step out, Pierre following. You halt, not knowing which hall to take. You glance up at your companion for help, only to find him staring back at you. “What?”

He shakes his head and leads you down the corridor to his room. It's a spacious corner suite, with huge windows facing Silverstone that give him a perfect view of the track. You make for the window but Pierre’s hand on your wrist stops you.

“I don’t think so, it’s time for you to sleep.”

“But I just wanna see,” You protest weakly.

“Nice try. I know you. You’ll sit in front of that window for hours if I let you.”

You give in only because he was right. Cityscapes of any kind drew your attention like a moth to a flame. You pouted anyway, but let him take you to the bedroom. Gentle pressure on your shoulders had you sinking into the plush mattress, groaning at the luxurious softness. Pierre laughs as he helps you out of your shoes and jeans, leaving the hoodie.

Eyelids drooping, you climb under the covers Pierre had pulled back for you. He tucks you in and kisses your temple. You grab for him, tugging on his shirt until he stoops down and gives you a proper kiss. When he steps out of your grasp, you panic.

“Stay,” You mumble, fear bubbling in your chest. He had to stay, he couldn’t leave, not when you only had this one night left-

“I’m just taking off my shoes,” He assures you, his weight sliding in behind you to settle against your back. You sigh, moulding yourself to him as best you could. Being in his arms was somehow familiar, even if he’d never held you like this. It felt like home.

“Pierre?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Pillowy soft lips press to the nape of your neck. “I love you too, mon coeur.”

Tagging: @flashcal

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 5: Don’t Even Think About It]

Hi y’all! I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long...finals and job hunting got the best of me. I will be updating more frequently going forward. As always, thank you so much for reading!! 💜😘

Series summary: You are an overwhelmed and disenchanted nurse in Boston, Massachusetts. Queen is an eccentric British rock band you’ve never heard of. But once your fates intertwine in the summer of 1974, none of your lives will ever be the same...

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, very very very little sexual content.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @bookandband​ @queen-crue​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

You’re in the crowd at The Rainbow, although you aren’t sure why; this has already happened.

Freddie is skulking across the fog-draped stage as he belts out the chorus of In The Lap Of The Gods...Revisited, all glistening tan skin and teased hair, a pillar of nimble black leather; John is only a silhouette in the mist. Brian looks like something that’s crawled out of a cocoon: leggy and insect-like, the sleeves of his flowing white blouse like a pair of wings. And Roger...Roger’s in the back, of course—“the hardworking one in the back,” he always says—with a glittery black kimono-like shrug hanging loosely off his bare shoulders. He’s drumming feverishly, sprays of Heineken flying off his floor tom, his forehead and blond hair dripping.

“Whoa, whoa, la la la, whoa...

I can see what you want me to be,

But I'm no fool,

It's in the lap of the gods...”

Somehow, as the fog clears, Roger’s eyes find you in the crowd. He grins in that effervescent, blameless way that he does. And now you know for sure that this is a dream; because there’s no chance Roger could see that far without his glasses.

There’s a banging noise coming from somewhere, but it’s muted, distant, splintered like an echo.

Dream Roger is fading away, dissolving as the lights shade to black on the stage. He disappears, and then Freddie does too, and then Brian, and finally John. The crowd you’re standing in is a sea of churning, indistinguishable faces.

The banging grows louder, closer. You can hear a new voice now.

You swim up from unconsciousness and punch into daylight. You’re laying on your back in bed in a small, rustic hotel room; it takes you a second to remember what the world looks like now. It’s not November at the Rainbow Theater. It’s December 11th, and you’re in Rome.  

You sit up in bed and turn towards the door. Whoever is out there is knocking so forcefully that the distressed wood rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, Dorothea Dix, wake up!” Freddie is shouting through the door.

You rub your eyes as your feet touch the cool teak floor. The band flew into Rome late last night, and has one full day to burn before their concert on the 12th. You’d pitched the idea of visiting a few museums, the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, St. Peter's Basilica, maybe even the Baths of Caracalla or the Temple of Venus and Roma; but it had been difficult to get anyone to commit at 2 a.m. when you were all exhausted and dragging luggage into the modest, quite geriatric hotel. Queen may finally have a Top 20 album in the U.S., but the streets aren’t paved with gold just yet.

“Darling, need I remind you that this was all your idea, you simply must wake up this instant—!”

You swing the door open. Freddie is standing in the hallway in a vivid yellow-and-black jacket and white jeans, tall boots, dark hair huge and curly, folded aviator sunglasses peeking out of his pocket.

“Get ready, bitch,” he says, grinning, then slips the sunglass over his dusky eyes. “All those gorgeous marble blokes with their cocks hanging out aren’t going to ogle themselves.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You start with the ruins, then end up at the National Roman Museum after lunch. Brian and Chrissie meander through the halls of cracked marble goddesses and heroes and piecemeal fractions of bodies, their hands intertwined; Chrissie took a few days off work to meet the band in Rome, and she’s glowing with the thrill of being reunited with Bri. Freddie is contemplating the displays, tapping his chin thoughtfully and chatting as John nods along and sketches in his notebook. There’s a photographer scurrying around snapping photos of the band for some magazine, to the vexation of the museum employees. They scowl from the corners of the rooms, their suits pristine and arms crossed, muttering to each other in Italian.

Roger leaps in front of a hulking statue of Perseus and mimics the pose. “What do you think?” he asks you, wielding an invisible spear. “Am I courageous? Divine? A mirror image?”

“You’ll have to work on the hair. And gain like a hundred pounds.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Pounds?!”

“Whoops. Kilos. A lot of kilos. But I think I like you as you are. Can I see your hands?”

Roger falls out of his pose, smiling. “Yes ma’am.” He presents his palms for inspection. The first weeks had been hell for him as his hands were worked into touring shape, repeatedly blistered and worn raw, iced and treated and bandaged by you each night only to be pummeled all over again the next day. Of course, Roger hadn’t described it that way; he shrugged at the blood and swollen knuckles, his eyes already alight with the promise of future shows. That’s just a casualty of fame, love, he’d told you. I’d take it all again and more. The last of his blisters have healed now into discolored callouses, rough whirlpools of memories from cities like Glasgow and Bristol and Helsinki and Munich. “I can get more pounds too, you know. I’ll be swimming in them. I’m gonna buy you a mansion when we get home.”

“Not so fast, blondie.” You graze your thumbs over his rugged palms and release him. Aside from your annoyingly incessant concern for Roger, your job hasn’t proved to be too taxing: there have been sprains, minor lacerations, severe hangovers, some alcohol poisoning, and one case of syphilis that you identified and sent the unfortunate man to a doctor for, all of which afflicted the roadies rather than the band.

“How’s Jo doing?” Chrissie calls over from where she and Brian are scrutinizing a sculpture of Apollo. She tosses Roger a smirk.

“Fine,” he replies briskly. “It was amicable. She understood. Nothing personal, just with the tour and everything we knew it wasn’t going to work out. Bad timing, that’s all.”

“Hm. That’s not exactly how she described it.”

Roger sighs, irritated. “Well, Chris, I really can’t control what she chooses to tell you, can I?”

“Shhhh. Play nice, love,” Brian coos, massaging Chrissie’s shoulders.

Roger pops a cigarette between his lips and moves to light it. A museum employee rushes over, waving his arms frantically. “Per favore, signore, no smoking near the exhibits—!”

“Oh, right, right. Sorry.” Roger tucks the cigarette away, then turns back to you. “Okay, no mansion then. What’s your fancy? Diamonds and gold? Tigers on leashes?”

“A harem of sensual Italian men?” Freddie suggests. Chrissie bursts out laughing.

“I hope not,” Roger says.

“You know what I really want?” you say, eyeing busts of Hadrian and Nero.

“What?” Chrissie asks.

“A camera. A really good one. To document all of this, our adventures. I mean, I know we have...” You wave towards the magazine photographer, who’s mostly snapping shots of Freddie and Roger. “But it would be nice to have my own photos. Carry them around in my wallet, force strangers to look at them, cover my refrigerator with them, all that sentimental stuff. So the minute you kids start making real money, I’d like a nice Canon. Or a Nikon. Or whatever the best camera is.”

“The Canon F-1 is quite good,” the photographer offers.

“Perfect! Clearly, I know nothing about cameras. And will need a hefty instruction manual. But I’m still excited.”

Roger winks. “I believe in you.”

As you all wander into the next room, Freddie spies a grand piano and sprints to it. He slides onto the bench and begins testing the keys. A distraught museum employee appears instantly.

“Signore, please, this is for the museum staff only, please signore!”

“Oh relax, darling, I won’t break it.” He begins experimenting with some light, jazzish melody.

“I love Rome,” you decide as you stroll past the Aphrodite of Menophantos. “Are you sure we can’t stay here forever?”

John frowns as he shades in whatever he’s drawing in his notebook. “It’s too bad we couldn’t make it to Florence.”

Freddie rolls his eyes from the piano. “Deaky, darling, this Dante’s Inferno obsession has got to go. It’s positively morbid.”

“He ends up in paradise,” John protests wryly.

Freddie snorts. “Yes, well, Florence is a three hour drive each way. Next time perhaps. Once we’ve all got private jets and Nurse Nightingale over there has her posh camera.”

“And we’ve acquired trophy wives to pose with us,” Brian jokes. Chrissie squeals and shoves him good-naturedly.  

“We could go to the beach,” John proposes.

“A seaside rendezvous?” you say playfully.  

Freddie hums and nods as his fingers fly over black and white keys.

“Signore...” the museum employee begs. The photographer circles Freddie and the piano, snapping picture after picture.

“The beach?!” Roger whines. “It’s too cold for that! We can’t swim, we can’t sunbathe practically naked, what’s the point? And we’re checking out that club tonight. The one by the hotel, what’s it called, Fred? El Fuocolio?”

“Il Fuoco,” Freddie corrects, amused.

“Ah. Forgive me for not keeping up with my Italian.”

“We don’t all listen to opera, you know,” you tease Freddie. He peers over at you thoughtfully, then continues playing. “I’ll go to the beach with you, John.”

He almost drops his notebook and pencil. “Will you?”

“Of course. I’ll have fewer opportunities in my life to see the Italian seaside than get tipsy and evade dodgy men at some bar, most likely. Although I will miss seeing your dancing.”

“Aww!” Now Roger is dejected, his huge blue eyes pleading. “You have to come with us.”

“Next time,” you promise him.

“This time.”

“Next time.”

“Fine.” He points at John. “Don’t let her get eaten by a shark or run off with some Italian playboy.”

John grins. “I’ll do my best.”

Two burly security guards arrive and begin shouting at Freddie in Italian. “Oh fine, fine!” he snaps as he stands and abandons the piano. The museum employee beams triumphantly.

“Fred, I think we’ve tormented them enough,” Brian says.

“Bri, can we go to the beach too?” Chrissie asks. “Please?”

“It’ll be chilly.”

“I have a jacket. And I can borrow yours if necessary.”  

Brian chuckles. “Okay. We can go. Ostia’s the closest one, I suppose.”

“You’ll love it,” you tell him. “It’ll be like time travelling. You get to stand on the same shore that the ancient Romans did, bury your feet in the same sand, watch the same sunset. That should appeal to an astrophysicist such as yourself.”  

“How poetic,” John muses.

Roger comes to you, shrugs off his black leather jacket, drapes it over your violet sweater.

“Roger, don’t—”

“I’ll miss you,” he interrupts, smiling, then presses his lips fleetingly to your forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~

The four of you take a crowded, decidedly unglamorous bus to Ostia and walk the beaches under the fading afternoon sun. It is chilly by the crashing water, and the wind whips across your cheeks forcefully enough to sting; but none of that stops you. Brian and John collect seashells, and Brian retreads all the details of the tour—all the things he wishes he could do over, all the things he wants to change going forward—as John listens, smoking and nodding when appropriate. You and Chrissie kneel in the cool sand and shape castles with your hands, giggle about how messy and lopsided they are, scribble notes in the soft sifting remnants of stone and quartz: Chrissie loves Bri, Buy Sheer Heart Attack today, Queen was here. And you’re thinking about Roger more than you should be, and Chrissie knows it; but she’s not going to say anything about that now.

When the boys come back, Bri sits in the sand next to Chrissie and begins to decorate her castle with the shells he found: scallops and clams and tulip shells and oysters and tiny lightning whelks. She claps and hugs him, leaps into his lap, pulls him in for a kiss.  

“This is terribly unfair,” you say, staring morosely at your now even less impressive sandcastle.

John appears beside you and offers a massive pink conch filled with very small, pristine, glossy shells. You gasp and clasp a palm over your heart.

“Really?!”

“Yeah,” he says, puzzled. “Who do you think I picked them for?”

“You’re the best. The absolute best. A treasure. I owe you my life. Wait...” You pick up a thin shard of driftwood and write into the side of your sandcastle: John Deacon, and then a heart encircling it. “You are officially lord of the sandcastle.”

“A prestigious position, surely,” he says, smiling, then passes you the conch. “Go on.”

As you place the shells, he finds a dried bit of seaweed and impales it on the piece of driftwood, then plants the makeshift flag on the tallest tower of the castle.

Brian glances over and shakes his head, his mess of curls shivering. “Chris, love, I fear we’ve been outdone.” Then he nods to the words you and Chrissie carved with your fingertips. “Leaving letters in the sand?”

“Promotional material,” you quip; but you can tell the wheels in Brian’s magnificent mind are whirling.

As the sun sets over the Mediterranean Sea, golden speckles of light floating disembodied on the waves, the four of you get gelato and browse through bookstores and wander down cobblestone streets. And on the bus ride back to the hotel, Brian points out constellations as you hold the conch shell in your lap and doze against John’s shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian and Chrissie depart to get dinner when you arrive back at the hotel, taking the rare opportunity for a date night. You try to think of a more romantic destination than Rome. Paris? New York? Venice? Probably none of those. You push the images that flood your thoughts away: candlelit meals with violins serenading in the background, the warm cascading glow of streetlights, tossing coins into fountains older than either London or Boston, gazing over the table and into the ensnaring oceanic eyes of the person who won’t be there. Roger.

“Do you think Roger and Fred are back yet?” you ask John in the lobby. He’s still got his notebook in his jacket pocket, but he won’t let you see it.

“I doubt it, but let’s find out.”

You ride the elevator to the band’s floor, still clutching the conch shell, as John fields ideas for dinner.

“Roger’s going to want pizza and beer, but we might be able to get Freddie to go for something more swanky. Actually, he’ll probably order dessert first. There’s a restaurant down the street that I heard has phenomenal tiramisu and lasagna.”

“Oh god. I would kill for a good lasagna.”

“No need for all that,” John says. “We don’t have enough cash for your bail.”

“If they serve lasagna in prison, you can leave me here.”

“But then who would patch up our debaucherous roadies?!”

You laugh as the elevator lurches to a halt and the doors open. “Just call me up in prison and I can talk you through it—”

You step out and turn down the hallway; then all the air vanishes from your lungs. Roger’s fumbling with his key as he tries to get into his room...and pressed between him and the door is a raven-haired, modelesque woman in a short red dress. His eyes are closed, her tongue darting between his lips, his free hand skating up her bare thigh and beneath her dress. And suddenly you’re being dragged back into the elevator, John’s arms locked around your waist. He hits the button for the lobby then reaches for you uncertainly.

“Are you okay—?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m totally fine, I’m...” But for some reason, your throat is burning and your eyes are blurring with tears. You try to blink them away and they drop down your cheeks like rain.

“You’re not,” he realizes softly.

“Goddammit,” you choke out, sobbing.

“Hey, don’t do that,” John pleads. “Please don’t do that, please don’t cry—”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, this is so stupid...” You fan your face and try to wrangle your breathing. The way he was touching her...I can’t forget the way he was touching her. “I am so stupid.”

“You’re not,” John flares. And when he opens his arms you rush into them, burying your face in his jacket as he pulls you closer, drowning you in his warmth. “You’re not stupid,” he says, quietly but severely. “You’re wicked smart and wonderful and perfect, so you’re not allowed to say anything to the contrary. Alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper. And it occurs to you—as your breathing slows, as your tears subside—how incomparably comfortable this feels, homey even.

John clears his throat. “Hey, not to break this up or anything, but you’re sort of stabbing me with the conch shell.”

Incredibly, you laugh as you back away, swiping at your eyes. “Sorry.”

The elevator doors open, and John leads you out into the lobby. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says. “We’re going to go to that restaurant on the corner and I’m going to order a lasagna—”

“John, I don’t think I can eat anything.”

“Doesn’t matter. Did I say you were going to be forced to eat it at gunpoint? No I did not. I’m going to order a lasagna, and if you want some awesome, and if you don’t we’ll just sit and talk. And you can nibble table bread or drink so much wine you forget today ever happened, whatever you want. You make the rules. But we’re going, and I’m ordering lasagna.”

“Okay,” you reply, sniffling, smiling up at him gratefully.

The restaurant is teeming with tourists, and you end up seated at a tiny table near the back with very dim lighting and a roaring fireplace. It’s deliciously hot, burning away your misery; or, at least, making it feel as if it might belong to someone else, as if maybe you heard about it from a friend or in a song, maybe even dreamed it. You take Roger’s leather jacket off and hang it on the back of your chair. When the waiter arrives, John orders for you.

“One lasagna, the biggest one you have, and extra table bread, and uh...” He skims the menu. “Two red wines and a Coke. And a sparkling water. So the lady has a selection.”

“Si, signore. Grazie.”

When the waiter leaves, John lifts off his jacket too, then unbuttons his shirt to his navel. The sweltering glow of the firelight dances across his pale skin in a way that is mysteriously distracting. “Well, it definitely doesn’t feel like December in here.”

“I’m sorry, maybe they could move us—”

“No, that’s alright, I know you like it. And one should be sweating in Southern Italy, don’t you think?” He tears off a hunk of bread when it arrives and plates it for you. The conch shell lays on the table by the salt and pepper shakers, to the visible confusion of the waiter.

“Thank you. For everything, John. Really.”

He gazes at you with those blue-grey eyes that can look like either clouds or steel depending on the occasion. Tonight they are misty, like the froth over waves, impossibly soft. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he says gently. “I don’t know if that helps at all, but I think it should. It doesn’t mean anything to someone like Roger, what you saw tonight.”

You sigh. “I guess it doesn’t. And I’m sorry, I know it’s ridiculous, I know that, and I’m just so frustrated and...and...I get it, I get that I have no right to care about anything Roger does, which is why I feel like such an idiot for reacting this way, but I just...I just...I’m just so...so fucking torn up about it and I’m sick of being surrounded by it all the time and I’m...I’m so...I’m...look, I’m sorry, can you button your shirt or something? That’s very distracting.”

“Oh, it’s distracting, is it?” John asks, grinning.

“Don’t you dare—”

He undoes several more buttons. “How about now, are you sufficiently distracted?”

“John, no!” you wail, laughing.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything to distract you from your tortured inner monologue...” He removes his shirt entirely and tosses it to the floor. “How are you now?”

“Very distracted,” you wheeze.

“Excellent.” He smiles, resting his face in his hands, the firelight flickering over his bare chest and shoulders, reflections of flames in his eyes. “See, you don’t look so sad now.”

“No, I guess I don’t.” You bite into your hunk of bread. But still, the way he was touching her...  

John sips red wine and smirks teasingly. “You know...if you ever get tired of the celibate lifestyle...I’m always game.”

You laugh, shaking your head, and open the Coke bottle. “That’s very much appreciated. But I don’t just want sex.”

“I know,” he replies, solemnly now. “You want him.”

“That’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all.” That seems like it must be a lie, but John sounds genuine.

“You’re my best friend, you know,” you tell him. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Certainly not get treated to authentic Italian lasagna.”

You chuckle. “I’m sure that’s the least of your talents. Veronica is a very lucky woman.”

John nods, staring down at the table now, pushing crumbs around with the back of his hand. “If you say so.”

And, in the end, you managed to eat your half of the lasagna after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you get back to your hotel room, it’s very late in Italy...which means it’s only early evening in Boston. You pick up the phone and resolve to use the last of your miniscule weekly allowance for a long distance call.

Your mom answers on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Guess where I am right now.”

“Hopefully on a date with that nice Roger boy.”

“Oh my god, Mom.”

She titters pleasantly. “Tell me, dear. Germany? No, no. Spain.”

“Rome.”

“Oh!” she sighs, steeped in nostalgia. “Daddy and I went there on our honeymoon! Ages ago, of course. But it was wonderful, otherworldly. Like getting lost in a fairytale. How do you like it?”

“I love it,” you murmur. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Always, dear.”

You twirl the phone cord around your fingers anxiously. “How did you know that Dad was the one?”

“Hm.” She pauses; and you can envision the way she takes a step back and glances up at the ceiling whenever she’s thinking something over. Oh, maybe I do still miss parts of Boston. “Well...you know Daddy wasn’t single when we met. And neither was I.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that part of the story.”

“I’m not sure if I can explain it, dear. Truly. I...” She drifts off, pondering it. Finally, she says: “I’d had plenty of other boyfriends. I’d been interested in other people. And people are all so different, they all have something unique to offer to your life, whether good or evil. But when I met your father...I just felt like I couldn’t live without him. Suddenly nothing else seemed possible if he wasn’t in the picture. Like if he wasn’t there I’d spend the rest of my life missing him. Does that answer your question?”

“It does, yeah.” You close your eyes and feel the dark Mediterranean night air breeze in through the open window. The conch shell has found a temporary home on top of the antique dresser. “I love you, Mom.”

“Aww, I love you too, honey. And you’ll make the right decision, whatever that is.”

You look out into the constellations that Brian introduced to you earlier, Aries and Fornax and Perseus. “I hope so.”

[meganshinsou-tm]

Vermilion. (m)

↳ chapter four: move in day

❧ genre:  pro-hero’s bakugou/kirishima, poly, happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: none

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

You looked back into your apartment, devoid of all its furniture and decorations. It was a somewhat sad feeling, but you were more than ready to get out of the shabby place and start your next adventure.

“Alrighty mama, looks like we’re good to – uh are you okay?”

That cheery and raspy voice you’d notice anywhere came from behind you, making you turn around with a smile.

“I’m great Red, just saying goodbye to this dump.”

Kirishima smiled and nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he stood beside you; in return you wrapped an arm around his waist. “Well I’m ready when you are, Bakugou should be off work by now and waiting for us, so what do you say we go home now?”

You smiled at his words. Once you walked out of this apartment, a new adventure would begin as you would now share a home with your two closest friends which you were more than ready for. You finally looked up to Kirishima and squeezed his side, making him smile that sharp toothed smile that made his eyes crinkle.

“Okay Red, let’s go home!”

You arrived at your new abode, a gasp escaping your lips and making Kirishima smile. You’ve never been to the pairs place before, so you didn’t know what to expect. They lived in a nice and upscale part of town in a quaint little neighborhood. Their home was two story and modern looking, it was beautiful. Much bigger than your little one bedroom apartment, so you weren't sure how you'd adjust to living in such a spacious home.

Kirishima got out of the moving van and walked over to your side, opening the door for you and taking your hand to help you down from the tall vehicle. Once you were on the ground, he went to release your hand but the second you felt him do so your fingers interlocked with his forbidding him to let go. He looked at you with a tilt of his head and a slight pink on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous for some reason,” you replied looking at your feet.

He smiled and squeezed your hand in his making you look back at him.

“Don’t be (Y/N), this is your home now and we’re gonna do everything we can to make you feel comfortable and get settled in! Now come on, we’ll show you around first then get to unpacking your things!”

He started towards the door and you followed along, not once did he let your hand go. Once inside the two of you found Bakugou sitting on the couch, going through his phone. He looked up to see you two hand in hand, and you swore you saw his eye twitch.

“Hey Bakugou, wanna help give (Y/N) a tour of the house?”

The blonde clicked his tongue and rose from the couch, agreeing to tag along.

The tour started in the living room, then into the kitchen. “You can just put the dishes you brought with you in the cabinets with ours. We also cleared out a drawer in the fridge and a shelf on the freezer side for you to use as your own. One of us will take you grocery shopping later okay?”

You smiled and nodded, going along as Kirishima lead you to the laundry room, Bakugou following closely behind with his hands in his pockets. In the laundry room Kiri showed you where all the detergents and products were located, which happened to be in a cabinet above the washing machine and it was way out of your reach.

“Uhm, guys I’m not giants like you!”

Bakugou chuckled behind you and leaned down to your level, placing his head on your shoulder. “Looks like we’ll have to get the baby a stool to use when we aren’t around Kiri.”

You narrowed your eyes at the blonde whose cheek was grazing yours. A smirk grew on your face before you turned and quickly licked his cheek making him jump back and growl. Bakugou wiped his skin clean with disgust, “You fucking little gremlin. Don’t forget I know where you sleep now!”

You threw your head back and laughed.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time Baka-gou,” you teased and winked at him. His eyes definitely started to twitch now and the two of you went back and forth at each other. Kirishima looked down and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“I’m living with children,” he thought to himself and stood between you, hands waving. “Alright fam, break it up. Let's move on upstairs.”

You and Bakugou followed behind him, nudging each other with your elbows along the way as you walked up the stairs. You then came to a hall and stopped.

Kirishima motioned and spoke, “Down the left side is my room and bathroom, and on the other end is your room and Bakugou's room and your bathroom.”

Bakugou scoffed, “I didn’t agree to share a bathroom with this brat, it’s bad enough I have to be across the hall from her.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t have anywhere else to live, I don't have anywhere else to live,” you chanted over and over in your head.

“Okay then, I don’t mind sharing with her. It may be inconvenient to be at the other end of the hall, but what’s mine is yours mama!”

You smiled at the red-head, at least someone seemed happy to share a roof with you.

“Thanks Red, now where is my dojo!”

Kirishima chuckled and nodded at Bakugou, gesturing him to lead the way. The blonde let out a dramatic sigh and turned on his heels, walking towards your end of the hall and opened a door.

“Bakugou checked to make sure all the lights and electrical was still good, since no one has even stayed in this room. I’m sorry if it’s annoying but you have a skylight. If you want, we’ll help you put something up to cover it later.”

Kirishima and Bakugou both leaned on either side of the frame, letting you walk into the room and have a look around. The floor was hardwood, like the rest of the house, and the walls were painted an emerald green, it smelled fresh too.

“Did you guys paint in here?”

They both nodded, Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck and Bakugou looked anywhere but at you before he spoke. “I noticed that green was your favorite color and the walls were a head splitting white, so I fucking figured why not. Sorry if it still smells like paint.”

You smiled and nodded, looking around at the room again, “No, it’s fine. I love the smell of paint actually.”

The roof was slanted at an angle on one side on the room, and just like Kiri said, there was a big skylight window. It filled the room with lots of natural sunlight. You walked over and stood under it, looking up to see a clear view of the sky, it was beautiful.

“Don’t worry about this guys, it’s perfect! I’m gonna put my bed right here, I’m sure it’s breathtaking at night!” You mentioned, still looking up with a smile full of wonder.

The two men gazed at you, both with half smiles, thinking about how they could say the same about you. When you turned back around to see them staring at you, blush tinted your cheeks. You smiled though and crossed your arms behind your back, “So shall we unpack?”

After about 30 minutes, all your belongings were now in the house. Your two friends unloaded your bed and set it up for you, exactly where you wanted it, they unloaded your dresser and end tables too. You were now in your new room, unloading clothes into your dresser and closet, stocking your small bookcase, hanging up your pictures and posters, arranging and stacking your collection of figures, then moved on and made your bed. You plopped down on the cushion and sighed, looking up at the now red and orange sky as the sun was starting to go down.

A knock came at your door. You yelled for the person to come in, not once moving from your spot, eyes staying where they were.

“All settled?” Kirishima asked as he sat down on the bed beside you.

You turned your head to look at him and smiled. “Yes, I am. Thank you so much for your help Red. I really appreciate it!”

You sat up and faced your friend as you crossed your legs and held out your hand to him. He gladly took it in both of his, one of his thumbs brushing over your wrist. The simple gesture made you smile and had butterflies going crazy in your stomach.

The red-head was softly smiling as he looked at your small hand in his large one, he wasn’t complaining, he’s only ever wished to hold your hand in his for a while now and he loved how soft your skin was against his rough calloused skin. The more time he spent with you, the more he’d fall. When Bakugou told him about the problems you had been having he felt terrible and agreed with the blonde that you should move in with them. Kirishima saw where you lived and it was in a bad neighborhood. He never doubted that you couldn’t look out for yourself but it still worried him. Now that you were under the same roof as him, he felt relieved and comfortable, because now he and Bakugou could protect you.

You were looking at him with those wide eyes that became the one thing he looked forward to seeing every morning at work. It made him melt when you looked at him the way you did now. So sweetly and as if you share the same feelings he did.

“It’s nothing (Y/N) really. I look forward to you living with us and spending more time with you. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask!”

You nodded and took your hand back as you leaned closer towards him, practically on your hands and knees and placed a kiss on his cheek. Kirishima felt a blush spread across his entire face, matching the same vibrant color of his hair, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“Let me cook for you guys tonight! You both did a lot to help me move today, especially you. So I’ll make Bakugou take me to the store, I’m sure he’d love to!”

The red-head laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, “Okay mama, just try not to kill each other please!”

The two of you got up, Kirishima letting you know he was going to shower while you were gone, this time he kissed your cheek before turning and walking off. You smiled at him, humming with glee and skipping down the stairs to the living room to find Katsuki. He was back on the couch and watching TV, until he saw your frame walk into the room and looked over briefly before his eyes went back at the screen. You sat down beside him, your shoulder bumping into his and making him growl.

“What do you want?” He asked with a curled lip, his tone not matching his ‘don’t fuck with me look’ though.

“For you to take me to the store, I want to cook dinner for you two tonight.”

You were looking at him, but he didn’t bother to look at you as he made a face.

“Why do I need to take you? Make Shitty Hair do it, you seem to have him wrapped around your pretty little finger today.”

Bakugou practically hissed the words at you, there was a hint of jealousy and attitude in them. You pouted, looking down and rubbing your thumbs together.

“Well he’s taking a shower and I wanted you to take me, I have an idea of what foods Red likes, but not you. Plus, aren’t you the one that checked everything in my room and paid enough attention to me to notice what my favorite color was? I’d say maybe I have you both wrapped around my pretty little finger Suki!”

The blonde rolled his eyes, knowing he had been caught and that you weren’t exactly wrong, but he wasn’t going to show you that. His head turned, eyes falling on you still pouting … fucking cute, damnit. And that dumb name that came out of nowhere, it shouldn’t have had his heart doing so many flips.

“Tch, whatever, I still didn’t hear a ‘please’ in that request of yours!”

After saying that, Bakugou felt you nuzzle your head under his arms and your arms and legs wrapping around him like a koala. He looked to see your staring up at him, your lips slightly pouting and your eyes wide and soft. “Please, please, Suki!”

"Oh, that was a dirty move," that look, it was too much and he found it way too adorable. Once again, you had him under your spell, with those lips that were now pleading for him. He growled in defeat and wrapped an arm around your back and placed a hand on your leg wrapped around him, as he stood up with you still attached to him. You smiled at him and kissed his cheek, knowing that you had won. It took him by surprise and made his cheeks and ears turn pink, he wanted to be mad at you, but you were gleaming at him, how could he get mad at that?

“Fine you little gremlin, but only because I’m feeling generous today and I’m hungry!”

[zuwritesstuff]

When You Try To Write a Candlenights Oneshot but it Turns Into a Multichaptered Adventure

Tw: Minor character death, injuries, prosthetics, slight angst, implied betrayal?

A/N- Hiya! This is chapter one in a (hopefully) multichaptered series and I have a lot to say but mostly I wanna thank @anonbeadraws because their Magnulia comic, (which you can see here if the link works lmao), which inspired a real cute scene in here, thanks so much to them and to YOU for reading this, have fun ;) (and please, I don’t mean to sound Desperate but reblogs > likes) also, you can find this on ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/22352998 and find the companion piece that you should really read if you want this whole Universe to make sense ijsdkncjfjdlnd right here https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228207

Chapter Title: Something To Come Home To

3 months, 2 weeks and 5 days ago

“And then she said-”

“‘I like you and I love you.’” Everyone in the breakroom chimed in, including those just passing by. Magnus beamed, proud of the fact that he had told this story so many times everyone in the room knew what he was gonna say. He was currently recounting the story of his wife’s confession of love and was draped over a chair dramatically, swooning. 

“Isn’t it romantic?” He said, grinning upside down at Merle and Taako. Taako scoffed and went back to drinking his coffee, rolling his eyes. Merle threw his hands up, shaking his head.

“I’m aromantic, leave me out of that.” 

“And I’m not, but you’re such a sap, it almost disgusts me.” Taako said, patting Magnus’s shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t be mean. Emotions are good, and being a sap is a good look on you, Maggie.” Carey Torres said, next to Magnus. Killian Alvarez and Noelle Nelson were also sitting at the table sharing a look.

“Is it?” Noelle said, stifling a laugh with her prosthetic arm, red and cyberpunk-esque. “Cause it kinda looks like he’s gonna explode.” Magnus sat back up, shaking his head as the blood that rushed into his head flowed back down. They all chuckled, and Killian, feet up on the table, (despite Merle’s protests), looked over at Carey.

“Being a sap is good, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah. Being emotionally forward is...good…” Carey said, blushing and looking away. Killian did the same, and everyone else at the table mentally groaned. The tension between them was, frankly, killing everyone who witnessed it. The two, plus Noelle, were a lean, mean, terrifying machine, and had been together for so long everyone who met them were, frankly, surprised that they weren’t a couple.

Killian took her feet off the table, leaned forward and said, “Well, uh, if that’s the case-” But whatever Killian was gonna say was drowned out by the loudspeaker above them.

“Dr. Highchurch and Agent Burnsides, to Wing F, ASAP. Repeat, Dr. Highchurch and Agent Burnsides to Wing F, ASAP.” Merle and Magnus looked at each other with concern. Wing F was the hospital wing, where Merle worked on their team’s, (Merle, Magnus and Taako’s), off days. 

“Mag, uh, not trying to worry you, but didn’t….didn’t Julia and Steph go on a mission today?” Carey asked gently. Magnus’s eyes went wide. He pushed his chair away and rushed out, with Merle close behind. 

                                                      ~

                      3 years, 3 months, 1 week and 6 days ago

Magnus took a deep breath and stepped in. Director Austen had just called him into her office. He had just finished his formal training with the Bureau of Benevolence and was waiting to be assigned a mentor, like most of the rest of his class. He had spent the last week fooling around with a few of his classmates, like Taako and Lup Enno, a pair of twins that were trouble personified, or Barry Bluejeans, a soft-spoken nerd who was supposed to be a scientist but ended up becoming a full agent. 

“You will train with Agent Waxman, here.” An older man stood next to Director Austen, looking down imposingly. He was built sturdily, even at his age, with a crooked nose and rough and calloused hands, with a small goatee and scar next to his right eye. Magnus stuck out a hand towards him, looking Waxman straight in the eyes.

“Magnus Burnsides, pleased to meet you.” Agent Waxman chuckled, shaking Magnus’s hand firmly.

“Call me Stephen, alright? Lucretia is one for formalities, for sure.”

“Her name is Lucretia?” Magnus whispered, horrified but amused.

“Thank you very much, Agent Waxman. That’ll be all.” Lucretia said, a ghost of a smile on her face. 

Magnus and Stephen walked out of Lucretia’s office chatting idly. Magnus learned Stephen had worked at the B.O.B for a very long time- almost 25 years, which is very long for a job that gets people killed almost regularly. He had a daughter, who had also had recently joined B.O.B, and just gotten her mentor; she was actually in Magnus’s class, but alas, apparently they had never interacted. Stephen was also nearing retirement- Magnus was the last recruit he was taking on, he told Lucretia, then a few more years and he was out. 

“Man, I never thought that far. Getting out? Nah, I’ll die before that, I think.” Magnus said casually. “I’m more of action first, get hurt, think after that kind of guy. Or don’t think at all, that works too.” He added, shrugging.

Stephen laughed and shook his head. “You know, I was wondering why Lucretia assigned me to you and now I know why. I used to be just like you, hot head and ready to give my life before anything ever happened.”

“Used to?”

“I found something worth coming home to, kiddo, but I suggest finding one soon cause the missions I go on? You’re gonna need it.”

“Alright, old man, whatever you say.”

“Ya know, you say that like its an insult. If I wasn’t old I wouldn’t have lived- trust me kiddo, living comes after everything you thought was worth doing. Then you’re cruising and focusing on the little things, all the good things.” Stephen said lightly, not looking at Magnus. He scanned the base, looking around as Magnus considered this. He had always been, not to be cliche, known to rush in. Protect, don’t think, get the mission done. If he got through it, great, if he didn’t, whatever, but if his friends got hurt, or didn’t complete what was needed? Failed. Living after the mission wasn’t all that high in his priorities, but the Director saw potential in him- she had to since he passed and she gave him a mentor, he reasoned. 

“Ah, there she is.” Stephen said, waving over two silhouettes in the distance. As they approached, Magnus’s jaw dropped as he saw the prettiest woman he had ever seen in his life, and one of the hairiest men he had seen, though he wasn’t paying much attention to him. The woman was tall, pretty much rivaling his own height, with long, curly hair wrapped into a braid behind her. Her skin was dark and glowing, with soft brown eyes that made you feel like you were wrapped up in the comfiest blanket under a beautiful night sky. She was, to be crude, buff as hell, with broad shoulders and a broader smile, Magnus noticed as she smiled at him, sticking her hand out.

“Julia Waxman. I see you’ve met my dad.” Magnus said nothing, just managing to close his mouth and shake her hand. He stared as Stephen laughed at him, patting his back.

“Julia, love, this is my apprentice, Magnus, and this is the first time he’s been quiet since I met him. What’s up, Errol?”

One of the hairiest men Magnus had seen smiled at Stephen, with a thick scruff and a long ponytail, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Not much, Steph, knew I had to come to find you once I got little Jules here as my apprentice.” Julia scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Errol, you’re like five years older than me, at most, shut your damn mouth.”

“Yeah, you’re a baby, that's what I said.”

“Fuck off.”

“Language.” Stephen said, almost instinctively. 

“Magnus!” Magnus suddenly announced, eyes lighting up and grinning at them all. “My name is Magnus. Burnsides. I’m a new recruit, but I’m made of legend material, that’s for sure.” He said, rambling. “I’m, uh, Hamilton-esque, not throwing away my shot but actually, fuck Hamilton, cheating on his wife I trusted him, I thought he drunk respect women juice when actually-”

Errol burst out in laughter out of nowhere, holding his sides. “Oh Lord- I’m sorry Magnus but that is the funniest shit- man, why’d you have to get the funny recruit, Steph-”

“Hey what the-”

“Julia Bernadette Waxman when I say watch your language I mean it, thank you.”

“Oh god Dad, why’d you have to expose me like that,” Julia said, burying her face in her hands. Errol, laughing even harder, clutched at his sides. “There was absolutely no reason to do that, why?”

“Bernadette, oh lordy lord, I can’t-” he said, wheezing, using Stephen as support. Julia rolled her eyes and looked at Magnus.

“I’m sorry about those two, they’re kindred spirits, Errol had my dad as his mentor, and both of them are idiots.” She said, directing the last part towards the two laughing men.

“I'm...Magnus.” Magnus said, looking right into Julia’s eyes and short-circuiting again. Julia gave him a slow, confused smile and laughed a little.

“Yeeah, yeah alright, Magnus. I’ll see you around, alright?” She looked at her dad and said, “I’m going to meet some friends; you two do whatever. Bye, Maggie.” She waved and walked away, leaving Magnus staring at the spot she was at.

“Julia…” he whispered to himself, a blush and grin growing wider and wider, shaking the hand that shook Julia’s as if to regain feeling back into his lovestruck self.

                                                      ~

                            3 months, 2 weeks and 5 days ago

Magnus ran like his life depended on it, almost shoving other agents out of the way as he ran, only thinking of Julia and Stephen. He skidded to a halt at the start of the wing; Merle crashed into him as he abruptly stopped, but he didn’t care. He stepped forward into the wing, but Merle’s hand stopped him.

“Give me a minute, kiddo. Let me see what happened, you don’t- we need to know first.”

“No, Merle. I can’t. No.” Magnus kept walking, but Merle stood in front of him, stopping him.

“Hey, hey, hey- this is my job, let me do it.” Merle said, looking up at Magnus. “Let me see what happened, and then I’ll come to get you, you don’t know what happened yet.” Magnus looked down at Merle and saw the sincerity in his eyes. He nodded and collapsed into a nearby chair, head in his hands, as Merle rushed off, talking to another doctor as they sped towards wherever they were. He, for once, sat quietly. Honestly, he didn’t know what to do. Stephen’s words from so long ago echoed in his mind. The something to come home to had turned into him, and Julia, and the rest of his team, and if something bad happened then-no. Nothing bad happened, Magnus reasoned. It couldn’t have, but there was no way. It was Stephen, for god's sake. There was no way.

After what seemed like an eternity, Merle came back, looking grim. Magnus stood up, searching for any sign of good news in his face. 

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat it, it’s bad.” Merle said, gesturing forward. “We don’t...well we don’t know for sure how it’s gonna turn out, Magnus. I-I’ll do everything I can, but you need to know, we don’t know yet.” He took a deep breath and opened the door, leading Magnus in. 

Julia and Stephen lay on two hospital beds. Errol, more shaven and well kept than he was two years ago, sitting by Julia’s side, looked up at them both. Magnus immediately rushed to Julia’s side, hovering over her, not sure where to start. Her face was cut up and blooded, only emphasized by her ragged breathing. The blanket that Wing F gave covered her up, but not enough to obscure her newly amputated right arm and leg, from the elbow and knee down. Magnus looked at Merle, silently, for any kind of explanation.

“There was an explosion, the whole building came down, and the way Julia was caught...she was probably right next to the blast, and the rubble...she's lucky to be alive Mag.” he said, looking down at her sadly. “She's on heavy anesthesia right now, they had to do a field amputation just to get her out; she was just….crushed, and there was just no time. It's looking like she’s gonna have some hearing issues on her right side as well, and there weren’t any issues of much heavy brain trauma, but we have to wait for her to wake up. And, well, Stephen…” he trailed off, looking at the man lying next to her. He was hooked up to an oxygen machine, it breathing for him. “Comatose. We don’t...god, Magnus, we don’t-” 

“He’s gonna wake up, Merle.”

“Kiddo-”

“Damn it, Merle, he’s gonna wake up! He has to- he c-” Magnus’s voice broke, and he angrily wiped tears from his face. “He’s got things worth living for and he’s gonna wake up, alright?”

“Alright, alright.” Merle said gently, touching Magnus’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go talk to whoever was on duty when they were found, you’re gonna stay here?” Magnus nodded, sitting heavily down next to Errol. Merle walked out, and the two men were silent for a moment, only listening to the beeping of the heart monitors and breathing, both artificial and otherwise.

“Man, I was just near here, Wing E, visiting a friend and I saw them wheel them in.” Errol said, breaking the silence. Magnus said nothing, not even acknowledging his presence. He just stared out to Julia, barely even breathing. Errol sighed and asked, “You know what she’d say about this?” Magnus didn’t respond, so he continued. “She’s left-handed.” Errol looked at Magnus seriously. “And she wouldn’t want you to act like this is the absolute end of the world.”

“You heard Merle,” Magnus said softly. “Julia...and Stephen is...he’s…”

“Not gonna give up without a fight. And if he goes, then, well…” Errol looked up at the ceiling, stretching out, settling in, clearly preparing for a long wait. “I’m gonna find the bastard that did this and make him suffer.”

                                                      ~

                           2 years, 7 months and 3 days ago

“Alright buddy, now’s the time.” Aubrey Little said, slapping Magnus on the back. “You’re gonna ask that girl out, and she’s gonna say yes, and if she doesn’t, you’re gonna respect her boundaries.”

“Hell yeah, I am.” Magnus said, standing in front of his mirror, making one last check to his appearance. Littered around the apprentice boy’s dorm was Taako, Barry, Aubrey, and Jake Coolice, all there to hype up Magnus. He, (and Julia), had been pining for a hot minute- everyone in their “class” was very ready for all of them to get together, so the 5 of them had gotten together to keep Magnus from chickening out, (he loved the friendship that had grown between him and Julia, and didn’t want to mess it up for the world), and to give themselves peace of mind. The rest of their class did their own thing, usually, but rest assured, everyone knew the dance Julia and Magnus kept around each other. 

“Alright, let’s get this thing going.” Taako said, standing and clapping his hands together. “My mentor wants to meet up and spar a little, and I can’t wait to beat his ass.”

“That’s mean, T,” Aubrey said, scrunching her face up, looking at him through the mirror. “Duck’s a nice dude.”

“One, he will not tell me his real name, does anyone even know it?” he asked nobody in particular, “two, he can’t lie for shit, so when he tried to fake compliment my sparring skills, it just, just didn’t work.” He shook his head, sighing. “He has so much to learn.” 

“My mentor is a doctor, technically an agent but he works mostly as a doctor; he’s super interesting.” Barry chimed in. “A little weird, kinda hippie-ish, but cool.”

“Nerd.”

“Thanks, Takoda.”

“Barold, don’t start with me, I will fuck you up, I know you have a crush on my sister, I can and will use this to my advantage. And, also,” he turned to face Barry, “You’re bi, and we’re twins, why not me? I’m clearly the superior twin.”

“Huh, I wonder why…” Barry said sarcastically, blushing at Taako’s accusation. “And I don’t have a crush on your sister, I’m dating your sister.” He mumbled.

“Excuse me, you’re fucking WHAT?”

“Hey, bi twins!” Aubrey said, going over and high-fiving Barry as Taako threw his hands up, super done.

“I think we’re losing focus here, guys. Also, bi-pan solidarity.” Jake said, finger gunning at Aubrey. She gasped excitedly and then shook herself, turning back to Magnus.

“Right, yes, Magnus, come on, you’re meeting Julia at the coffee shop and asking her out, let’s go!” Aubrey said, spinning on her heels, pointing and walking to the door. Magnus scratched the back of his neck, walking slowly and then stopping. 

“Uh, guys, maybe this is-”

“Alright, enough of this- Magnus, you’re gonna ask Julia out cause you are so, so head over heels for her. Isn’t that true?” Taako said, clapping Magnus’s shoulders and looking into his eyes.

“I mean…”

“Magnus, yes or no?”

“Its, uh, complicated-”

“Magnus, bud, answer the question.” Barry said, looking at him sympathetically.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m super gone for her. I like her so, so much, I just wanna hold her all the time and be with her ‘cause I just, she’s so nice and funny, so fucking funny and beautiful, so so beautiful, inside and out, and she’s got such a good heart and all that but I don’t want to ruin our friendship because it’s super amazing and she’s super amazing and-”

“Magnus?” A voice said from the doorway, soft and quiet. There stood Julia, slack-jawed, looking around like she was trying to grab words from the still air around them, but she found none. Aubrey stood to the side, looking back and forth between the two of them. 

“Lets, uh, go guys. Somewhere…” She said, slipping out of the door, turning around and giving Magnus a thumbs up as she did. Taako patted Magnus’s shoulder reassuringly and walked out with Barry, who waved at Julia but didn’t get one back, and Jake, who threw up a peace sign at Magnus, trying to reassure him as well. 

Magnus, face burning, looked to his shoes and said, “Hey, Julia…”

“Did you mean it?”

“W-what?”

“Did you mean what you said?” Julia asked, walking close to Magnus, looking him right in the face. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t say it, ‘cause I heard you, but did you mean it?”

Magnus looked at her, locking eyes with her, and took a deep breath. “With all my heart.”

Julia bit her lip, looking away as a slow smile spreading on her face. She covered her mouth, looked back at Magnus as she put her hands on her hips, looking a bit contemplative before saying, “Can, uh, can I kiss you?”

“Uh,” Magnus laughed a little nervously, stepping towards her shyly, “that would be nice, yeah.” Julia grinned and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him. Magnus wrapped his hands around Julia’s waist, lifting her up and kissing back with a fierceness that kind of surprised him. They swayed for a bit, staying together for as long as their lungs could let them, and upon hearing the wolf whistles from their friends outside, they broke apart, giggling at each other. Magnus put Julia down gently, stepping a little away, still shy, blushing even harder. Julia chuckled a little, stepping close enough to put her right hand on Magnus’s cheek.

“You are, no doubt, adorable.”

“Oh?” He asked, snaking an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Do tell…”

“Maybe after you’ve taken me on our coffee date? You gotta explain how you got from ‘I’m Magnus’ to this.”

“Is this..is this not good?” Magnus asked worriedly, biting his lip, standing up straighter as if to put a little distance between them.

“No, no, this is good- hey, Magnus?” Julia said, looking in his eyes, putting her other hand on his cheek and stepping closer. “This is so, so good.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good...I just don’t wanna mess this up, you know?”

“You won’t- you’ve already got me, hook line and sinker.”

Magnus smiled, kissing her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and then her lips, softly, before backing up and holding out a hand for her to hold. “Coffee date, then.” Julia smiled and took his hand, squeezing it tight before leading him outside. 

                                                        ~

                                    2 months and 2 days ago

Julia gripped the parallel bars, sweating, walking clumsily. Merle stood next to her, ready to help when needed, and Magnus stood at the end, offering encouragement.

“Come on, you’re so close, you got this love.” He said as Julia approached the end. She gritted her teeth and shook her head, trembling with effort, slowing. “No, no come on baby,” Magnus stepped closer but Merle held a hand out, signaling for him to wait.

“She can do this, hold on lovebird.”

“I-I can’t, Merle,” Julia said, looking down at her right arm, fitted with a temporary prosthetic. “It’s not strong enough.” She had decided to train one limb at a time, leg first, so her right leg was was fitted with a black, wired, titanium leg, hollowed out to look like geometric art, snaking up Julia’s right thigh, printed to match the size and shape of her other leg. She looked up at Magnus, clearly using all her strength to hold herself up.

“Merle, come on man, let me-”

“No, Magnus, hold on.” 

Merle walked right up to Julia, looking up at her, seeing her welled up eyes, her still slightly scarred face, straining with effort, he pulled down his right sleeve, exposing his prosthetic. It was made to look like it was carved out of wood, with smooth, ringed patterns flowing down his arm. He held it up for her to see and then pointed at her with it.

“You’re right. It isn’t strong enough, but you are. You can do this. This,” he pointed to his own prosthetic, and then hers, “is a part of your body now, use it to your advantage. You are strong enough, Julia; you need to trust yourself- now come on.” He stepped away, waiting for her to follow. She looked to the sky, blinking away tears, and leaned forward, shifting the weight onto her prosthetic leg, stepping forward. She shook, almost falling, but managed to get to the end. Magnus walked forward quickly, and this time, Merle didn’t stop him. Julia collapsed into his arms, and he held her upright, stroking her hair.

“You did it, see? Was that so hard?” Julia laughed a little, wrapped her arms around his waist, and buried her face into his neck, nodding. Magnus chuckled a little, kissing her hair. “It’ll get easier. And hey, now you know exactly what you need to beat in terms of prosthetic coolness.” Magnus looked over to Merle, grinning a little. Merle rolled his eyes and smiled, shaking his head.

“I think we’re done for today. When are you gonna send for a permanent arm, Jules?” She pulled away from Magnus a little, still using for him for support and shrugged. Merle sighed and stroked his beard. “It’d be better to get it sooner, rather than later if we’re being honest. You need to get used to them both. And, seeing as you’ve got almost no wait time here, as opposed to a regular hospital, it could be really quick.”

“I know, I know, but…” Julia closed her eyes and shook her head. “I just...I need time, I just need some time.” She looked back up at Magnus, and then away, who realized she wasn’t just talking about recovering physically- she was talking about Stephen, who didn’t make it. They realized he just wasn’t going to wake up, that the machine was just keeping his heart pumping for him, and pulled the plug. During his funeral, about the entire B.O.B. came, and just about all the seasoned agents, including Merle, talked about him. They laughed, they cried, and Julia, who sat in a wheelchair for the funeral, not having recovered physically or mentally enough to start her prosthetics, didn’t speak the entire week. 

Merle, having just connected the dots, sighed. He walked to Julia, put a hand on her shoulder, and said, “I miss him too kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“1 pm sharp.”

“Yeah. And, Magnus.” Merle said, turning to him, “I think we’ve got a mission coming up, I talked to Cretia, she said shes found something we gotta look at.”

“When? I gotta…” Magnus looked at Julia, who rolled her eyes at him. 

“I don’t need protecting, Magnus.”

“No, I know that, but, uh,” 

“Alright, Merle, could I talk to my husband for a second?” Julia said, starring daggers at Magnus who, actually, felt good about it. If Julia could get mad at him, she was...making progress. Not just sad, but mad, he reasoned, is progress. Merle took the hint and skedaddled out of there, and Julia just sighed. 

“Magnus, hon, I am so, so grateful for you, you know that, right?”

“Mhm, I am aware.”

“I just...I’m gonna be okay if you go out and do your job, you know? It’s just for a little, and I’ll probably stay in and chill, maybe call some people over to visit.”

“Yeah, but,” he grimaced a little and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, I just wanna make sure you’re okay, you know?”

“Magnus…” She said softly, shaking her head. “There are more than enough people making sure I’m okay right now- I just want you to be you, please? Don’t treat me different because,” She looked down at her leg, sighing, “because of this. I want the Magnus that thinks going to the store is a grand adventure, not the one that treats me like a fragile thing. I’m not fragile, and I don’t need...you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, no, I get it.” He said, nodding. “I just gotta be there for you, but I can do that while...being me, but I gotta say, this is hard, you know? I know its infinitely harder for you, just, watching you try to walk, I just feel like I should be there more. I just need to do more.”

“Magnus.” She put her hand on his cheek, her left hand, her gold wedding band glinting in the light, and he nuzzled into it, sighing and closing his eyes. “You staying by my side? That’s all I need. Something to come home to.” He opened his eyes, searching her eyes for the recognition that was there, she knew she was channeling her dad, and she smiled sadly. Magnus leaned down slightly and kissed her, softly and sweetly. Julia stood on her tiptoes, instinctively, barely aware that her prosthetic was as well, to meet Magnus’s lips. He pulled back and nodded.

“Then that’s what I’ll do, love. I’m gonna stay right here, with you.” He grabbed her hand on his face and kissed it, and then grabbed her right hand, putting his arm on her waist to keep supporting her, and kissed her prosthetic as well. She sighed with happiness and kissed his forehead. 

“Come on, let’s go home…” She said as Magnus helped her walk to the wheelchair she used for long distances, for now. Magnus helped her wheel out of the room, chatting idly as a shadowy figure nearby looked on. 

                                                   ~

                                                Today

 Julia walked, slightly unsteadily, to the door. She cracked it open, and then smiling wide, opened it fully, revealing one slightly timid Angus McDonald.

“Hello, ma’am! It’s nice to see you up and about!”

“Aw, thanks, Angus- it’s nice to be up and about, but you know you can call me Julia, yeah?”

“Yes, I know ma’am.” Angus grinned up at her as she laughed, shaking her head.

“Well, come on in, kiddo.” She said, gesturing for him to come in with her right arm, specifically, which looked like her leg- black titanium, geometrically arranged but, the fingers and wrist were jointed, allowing free movement. Angus was, understandably, amazed; they talked about the specific mechanics of it as Angus walked inside, (the doctors and scientists of the Bureau of Benevolence had been working on neurally controlled prosthetics that worked the same way actual limbs did- nerves sending messages to muscles to contract and move, but instead of going to the muscles, it travels down wires to wherever it should have gone if the limb was still there. This lets the user control their new arm as if it was still flesh, and the Bureau scientists were looking for someone to test it on when the accident happened), sitting at a dining table, directed by Julia, as Magnus came out of the kitchen, holding a platter of grilled cheese sandwiches in one hand and a pitcher of lemonade in another. 

Angus looked surprised as Magnus put these down on the table and went back to the kitchen. “Did...were you expecting someone?”

“Oh hon, there’s either always someone at the house or someone to give food to,” Julia said as Magnus put plates and glasses down, kissing Julia’s hair as he passed by.  “we kinda just make food to prepare for both now.” 

“Mmm, nothing to do with the fact that you said, and I quote, ‘I want nothing but a shitload of grilled cheese and lemonade for lunch’ huh?” Magnus asked, chuckling as Julia gasped and pushed him playfully.

“Magnus, there’s a child!”

“To be fair to Magnus, ma’am, I am 15, and I train with Taako too, he has more of a sailor’s mouth than Mr. Keene and he was an actual sailor.”

“I’ll talk to him about that…” Julia muttered, grabbing a sandwich, scowling.

“Wait, why do you call Argo ‘Mr.Keene’ but me Magnus?”

“I haven’t spent a lot of time with Mr.Keene, and I have spent a lot of time with you.”

Julia chuckled at her husband’s offended expression, sipped her lemonade and smiled at Angus, who smiled back, though his grin faded into a more serious expression in a moment. He seemed to be considering something for a few moments, before looking up at Magnus grimly.

“Sir, do you remember what we talked about the other day- at Taako’s apartment?” He, of course, was referring to last weeks incident- essentially, Kravtiz Ajal, Taako’s boyfriend, had gotten stabbed based off of some bad information, and had barely gotten out with his life, but Angus had suggested the traitor might have come from closer to home since this was the second time in months that a worker of the B.O.B. had gotten hurt, or killed, based off of some bad information. Magnus nodded, grimacing down at his plate. Julia put a hand on his shoulder and turned to Angus, confused.

“What’s happened, Angus?”

“Well, after Kravtiz got hurt, I got to thinking- this isn’t the first bad incident that the Bureau has had, clearly, but it was the second time in a few months that someone had gotten severely hurt off of bad information, is that correct?”

Julia sighed, nodding. “The tip we got was on the inside, it seemed solid, but…” She trailed off and now Magnus took her hand, squeezing it slightly.

“I know you must have heard this a lot, ma-” Angus sighed, looking up at her. “Julia. But I am very, very sorry for your loss. And I’d like to help you get to the bottom of this.” Julia looked up curiously at him. “I don’t think it was a coincidence that these incidents happened so close to each other. Someone has an agenda- I don’t know what, but something is going on.”

“Well, what do you think, Ango?” Magnus asked, sitting back. “I’m sure you’ve got some ideas.”

“I do…” Angus said, looking directly at Julia. “I think its time we questioned your partner, Kalen.”

                                                To Be Continued

First Chapter (you are here) | Previous Chapter (N/A) | Next Chapter

[sunshine-pup-fics]

B A K E R Y / Part 2 / Kirishima x Reader

Dedicated to @queenri0t and all the other beautiful users of her discord server! Y’all are a blessing!

Also, I indeed do have a scar on my thumb. I got it from cutting an onion.

This story is a series! use the links below to navigate to the other parts!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

(Y/n) always looked forward to seeing the blazing red hair of Kirishima. She’d hold her breath every day, gaze trained on the window in hopes of seeing him wander down the street. Every few days he’d come into town and visit her, happily sitting on the floor behind the counter as he watched her serve the few customers who dawdled on in in the afternoon. But once they were gone, the two would converse late into the day, laughing and telling stories to one another. (Y/n) tugged on Kirishima's hand, pulling it toward herself as her fingers danced across his skin, trailing his scars. “I got that one from blocking a sword with my bare hands!” He announced. The girl playfully rolled her eyes. trailing another scar. “What about these ones? Looks like a nasty bite.” She peered closer at his hand. Kirishima could see the flicker of worry dance in her eyes. “Oh, I bit my own hand when I was a kid.” He chuckled. She shoved his hand back into his lap, an exasperated sigh escaping her. “And I thought your scars were from epic adventures!” She whined. Her gaze dropped to her fingers, which are intertwined in her lap. “I have a scar, it doesn’t look cool, but it also didn’t come from anything heroic either.” She mused. Kirishima leant forward, trying to get a closer look at her hands. She stuck her left hand out, gesturing to her thumb. There was a small, thin white scar that trailed across it. “I cut myself while chopping some vegetables. It didn’t hurt, but it bled a lot. My parents freaked out.” She let out a laugh, leaning back on her hands. 

They sat in silence for a moment. "You always want to hear about my adventures," Kirishima quickly waved his hands, "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but I wanted to know why." He cocked his head to the side, expression inquisitive. (Y/n) sighed, pouting as she got to her feet. "I've never left the village, women arent really allowed to. We're to stay here and take care of children and household chores. My parents are little more open-minded, but it's not safe out there." She sent the boy a smile, leaning on the counter. "But hearing all your stories is amazing! All the beautiful places and exciting moments you've had! I could only dream of being able to live a fragment of your journey!" She spun on her heels, maidens dress flaring out as she dramatically flung her arms out. The two glanced at each other before bursting out laughing. Kirishima would never fail to love her voice, her laugh. It was melodic. The window behind her cast bright rays of sun over her back, hailing her with an angelic glow. Kirishima decided then that (Y/n) deserved the world, and he be dammed if he didn’t give it to her.

He jumped to his feet, calloused hands taking hers into his own. A spark of excitement racing through his crimson eyes. “Come on, you have to come with me!” The girl quirked a brow. “What? Where to?” She asked. He turned toward the door, still clasping one of her hands in his own. “Just trust me!” He began heading for the door, (Y/n) trailing after. “Wa-wait! But what about the shop!” She looked back toward the counter, a worried expression stricken across her face. “Go on, hun! I can run the store for a little bit.” Her mother’s voice rang out from the back room. “Ah, thank you mama!” She called. She finally turned back to Kirishima, grinning ear to ear. Kirishima burst out the door, tugging the (h/c) haired girl behind him. They got two steps down the street, before (Y/n) nearly tripped over a loose stone, stumbling forward: “Kir-Kirishima! I’m not wearing any shoes!” He came to a stop, turning to face her. He hummed for a moment. “Then I will be a man and treat the maiden properly!” He grinned, only hesitating for a second. He bent down and scooped the girl into his arms, one arm supporting her back and the other locked under her legs. She let out a startled screech, wrapping her arms around his neck to keep herself steady. “Oh my goodness, put me down!” She whined, but she couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips. “Off we go!” He cheered. He bolted down the street, weaving in and out of the confused villagers, (Y/n) giggling in delight. The two had reached the forest now, which infringed on the town's outskirts. (Y/n) was staring in awe at the trees that towered above them, the leafy canopy hiding them from the sky above. The wind caused the trees to rustle, the present sunlight dancing with the shadows. The ferns that lined the floor tickled Kirishimas legs, but he ignored them. “This place is so... beautiful!” She whispered. He hummed, but his eyes were trained on her. Eventually, they reached a small clearing, nestled away in the forest. Kirishima gently set (Y/n) down, the dewy lush grass tickling her feet. She strode out into the clearing, breathless as she gazed around. There was a small river running through the clearing, the sound of running water was feint, yet engulfed the area with a sense of tranquillity. There was a small cave on the perimeter, a small campfire set up in the middle of it, with what looked to be bags and beds set up beside it. As (Y/n) headed to check the stream, Kirishima ducked toward the cave, kneeling down and rifling through his bag. His fingers grazed a cool, smooth surface, to which he wrapped his hand around it, cradling it in his palm. He smiled to himself, looking down at the object. 

He heard a sharp yell and quickly turned around, seeing (Y/n) on the ground, an arrow struck right next to her feet. Kirishima bolted over, growling as he surveyed the forest. He slid over the grass on his knees, stopping by her side. He tore his gaze from the trees, inspecting every inch of her face. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry! Please tell me you’re not hurt!” The girl meekly nodded, breath shaky as he tried to speak. “Ye-Yes I’m fine... just... just scared...” Kirishima nodded, quickly getting to his feet, pulling (Y/n) up with him. He absentmindedly ushered the girl behind him, stepping forward to place himself between her and him.

He glared at the forest. There came an aggressive yell before Bakugo stepped out into the clearing, bow drawn and poised, aimed at the (h/c) haired girl. “Bakugo, what are you doing!” Kirishima hissed. Said blonde only sharpened his glare. “I wanna know why the fuck she’s here and who the fuck she thinks she is.” He began to circle the two. “You can trust her Bakugo!” Kirishima tried again. “LIKE SHIT I CAN. IM NOT TRUSTING SOME LOWLIFE VILLAGE GIRL WHOSE JUST GONNA GO BLABBER TO HER FRIENDS AND GET US KILLED!” Bakugo snapped back. (Y/n) stood gingerly behind her protector. She wished she could be brave and strong, but being aimed at by a bow held by a crazy maniac wasn’t exactly a common occurrence. “It’s okay Kirishima... I’ll just leave. I can promise on my life I won’t tell. He has every right to be mad-“ she was cut off as Kirishima growled. He shot a glance at her over his shoulder, winking as he did so. Then a second later, her vision was filled with red.

Protectively curled around her was none other than a blazing red dragon. She let out an awe-stricken gasp as she gazed upon the grand beast before her. The dragon was perched much like a cat, ready to pounce on its prey. She hesitantly reached out, trailing her fingers over its scales. They were quite smooth and were warm against her fingers. At feeling her touch, Kirishima turned to gaze at her, watching as she delicately traced his scales. He turned back, shooting a final glare at Bakugo, who stood mouth agape and bow pointed at the ground. Kirishima brought his head down toward her, gently nudging her arm. She spun on her heel, letting out a small squeak and nearly tripping backward. Kirishima shuffled his body to catch her. Back now pressed against his rough hide, (Y/n) reached out, pressing her hands against his jaw. She giggled as she felt his hot breath brush over her face. Kirishima nudged her again, letting a low purr rumble through him. “If shitty hair trusts you enough to show you this, then you must be at least a little trustworthy. Try anything though and I’ll kill you.” Bakugo stalked off toward the cave, grumbling to himself. The two turned back to each other. “He’s rather grumpy, isn’t he?” (Y/n) mumbled. Kirishima let out what could only be recognised as a laugh, sprawling himself out on the grass. (Y/n) watched him in peace, adoration and excitement glittering in her (e/c) eyes. “I can’t believe you’re a dragon! You’re absolutely beautiful!” She cooed. Kirishima hummed, nudging the girl's foot with his nose. She giggled, setting herself on the ground beside him. She began gently scratching under his chin, much to Kirishimas delight. “Fuckin shitty hair, makin friends.” Bakugo mumbled. He watched the two laugh with one another. Kirishima had only ever shown his dragon form to him. He hated to admit it, but maybe the girl was more trustworthy than he thought.

[24stiles920]

Wolf Moon

Teen Wolf Rewrite

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Warnings: Ages 16+, swearing,

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Harry Potter. I am just borrowing the spells and potions from the wonderful Harry Potter Universe, not stealing them.

Words: 7512

A/N: So here is my new rewrite! As you can see things are a little different, but some things are the same. I really hope you like it, and stick with me through this adventure.

Series Masterlist

Season 1 Masterlist

“Lumos.” I whispered clearly, holding my wand over the book that I wanted to read. The tip of my wand lit up, allowing me to read the words of Harry Potter, a book that was near and dear to me.

JK Rowling was a witch like me, and she decided to make a cover for our species by writing the Harry Potter series. Most of the book’s elements were fictional, like the candy, the schools, the government, and the age restrictions, but the spells and potions were real.

There were very few witches and wizards left in America, my dad and I being two of them, as they were hunted down by families of supernatural hunters. Families like the Argents, who didn’t care if they were splitting families apart just because someone was a little bit different than them.

Creak!

I perked up anxiously at the loud noise outside my bedroom, just past the French doors that led to my balcony.

I slowly stood from my massive bed, hid my wand, (mahogany, 9 ½ inches, unicorn hair), and approached the doors, opening them cautiously.

“Stiles!” I exclaimed as I witnessed the boy climbing over the railing of the balcony.

“I’m here, too.” A voice to my left made me jump about fifty feet in the air.

“Scott!” I whispered harshly. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.” Stiles complained, standing up and towering over my five-foot frame.

“And you decided to come here, why?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Look, I know it’s late, but you gotta hear this.” Stiles started, holding up his hands. “I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police.”

“For what?” I asked, a little interested.

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.” Stiles answered.

“A dead body.” Scott added.

I gave Scott a deadpan look, to which he looked away sheepishly.

“Like murdered?” I guessed, looking back to Stiles.

“Nobody knows yet.” Stiles shrugged, putting his hands on his hips. “Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.”

“Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?” I asked curiously.

“That’s the best part.” Stiles said excitedly. “They only found half.”

“How in the hell is that the best part?” I pursed my lips at him.

“I don’t know, but we’re going.”

-

“Are we seriously doing this?” I questioned as the three of us got out of Stiles’ jeep.

“You’re the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” Stiles joked, patting me on the shoulder as he passed me, turning on the flashlight.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Scott gave me an assuring glance. “He got me up, too.”

“You were awake!” Stiles protested.

“I was trying to get a good night’s sleep before practice tomorrow.” Scott replied scathingly.  

“Right, cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort.” Stiles scoffed.

“No, because I’m playing this year.” Scott informed us. “In fact, I’m making first line.”

“Hey, that’s the spirit.” Stiles exclaimed sarcastically. “Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one.”

“Stiles, be nice.” I scolded, elbowing him in the ribs. “At least Scott’s out there trying to follow his dreams.”

“Yeah, Stiles.” Scott mocked from behind me. I rolled my eyes. Boys.

“I’m following my dreams, thank you very much.” Stiles insisted. “My dream is to find this body, so shut up and keep looking.”

I huffed and kept my eyes peeled, looking down at the ground for the body. We walked in silence until Scott spoke up, clearly not caring about Stiles’ rule.

“Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott asked.

“Huh!” Stiles laughed nervously. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“Are you kidding me, Stiles?” I asked harshly, sending him a glare. I was about to take my wand out of my rain boot and full-body-bind him when Scott spoke again.

“And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?”

“Also something I didn’t think about.” Stiles acknowledged as he started up a small, but steep hill.

“It’s comforting to know you’ve planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” I spat, out of breath as I climbed after him, glancing at his ass out of the corner of my eye.

“I know.” Stiles called out.

“Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?” Scott wheezed from behind us, causing me to turn around to find him collapsed against a tree, using his inhaler.

Stiles ignored him though, grabbing my hand and dragging me down to the muddy ground to look at the group of lights up ahead. Scott dropped down next to us, effectively squishing me in the middle.

“Wait, come on!” Stiles exclaimed, grabbing me again and pulling me to my feet. He started running, and, not wanting to be left behind with a killer on the loose, I followed him, ignoring Scott’s calls.

“Stiles, Y/N!” Scott yelped. “Wait up! Stiles! Y/N!”

Stiles and I turned around to look for Scott, but fell to the ground, surprised, when a dog barked at us.

“Woah!” I shrieked, flailing my arms as Stiles rolled on the ground.

Stiles eventually got a hold of himself and stood before offering me a hand up like a true gentleman.

“Hold it right there!” Someone yelled harshly at us. I squinted in the sudden bright light to see that it was a cop screaming at us.

“Hang on, hang on.” I heard the tell-tale drawl of Noah Stilinski, other wise known as the sheriff of Beacon Hills and Stiles’ father. We were in deep shit. “These little delinquents belong to me.”

Stiles grabbed my hand and pulled my arm, heaving me to my feet with surprising strength. I wiped the mud off my jeans and glanced at Noah sheepishly. This man was my Godfather, and I hated letting him down.

“Dad, how are you doing?” Stiles greeted his father casually.

Noah pursed his lips, looking at Stiles unimpressed. “So, do you listen in to all of my phone calls?”

“No, heh.” Stiles laughed awkwardly. “Not the boring ones.”

The rain had started to really pour down now, soaking my canvas jacket and freezing me to the bone.

“Now, where your other partner in crime?” Noah asked.

“Who, Scott?”

“Who’s Scott?” I babbled, my nerves taking control of my mouth. Stiles put his hand over my mouth, his calloused fingers connecting with my lips.

“Sc-Scott’s at home.” Stiles told his father. “He said he wanted to get a good night’s sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow. It’s just Y/N and me. In the woods. Alone.”

Noah got a weird glint in his eye as he looked at Stiles and I, before he turned towards the tree line, shining his flashlight to look for Scott.

“Scott, you out there?” Noah called out. “Scott?”

When there was no response, Noah sighed and nodded his head in disappointment. He walked over to Stiles and grabbed the back of his neck.

“Well, young man, I’m gonna walk you both back to your car and you’re going to take Y/N home. And when I get home, you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy.”

We started walking back to Stiles’ jeep, the awkward silence deafening.

“So, you guys were alone?” Noah asked. “Like, alone-alone?”

“No!” Stiles quickly exclaimed before I even understood what Noah was talking about. “Y/N and I aren’t like that.”

Now realizing what Noah meant, my cheeks flushed, and I was a little hurt. I’d had a crush on Stiles for years. Literal years. I loved his goofy sense of humor, the way he researches everything, his sense of style, his sarcastic personality, and his looks were nothing to complain about, either.

“Oh.” Noah said, looking somewhat disappointed.

We came up to the entrance of the preserve now, spotting the blue of Stiles’ jeep easily.

“Okay, Stiles, get Y/N home and come straight to the house, got it?” Noah asked, looking at his son sternly.

“Yes, sir.” Stiles mumbled, starting the jeep.

“Uh, Noah?” I asked, leaning forward so I could see him. “You’re not going to tell my parents, are you?”

“Of course, I am, Y/N.” Noah said, shaking his head. “But it can wait until morning.”

-

“Good morning, Beacon Hills! It’s a great day for the kiddos to go back to school after a long winter break—”

I shut of the alarm on my iHome by slamming my fist on the button forcefully, tired of hearing the chipper voice of the radio DJ. I groaned as I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and blinking rapidly to clear my blurred vision.

“Tired?”

I jumped at my mom’s voice, nearing falling out of bed. I looked to see my mom and dad, standing there with raised eyebrows and pursed lips.

“Mom! Dad!” I whined, throwing my arms in the air.

“I just got a call from Noah.” Dad said in a fake casual voice. “Want to explain?”

I sighed and told them the story about how Stiles came to the house, but I twisted it a little, trying to make it seem like I went so Stiles wouldn’t get himself in trouble. It was a selfish move, but my parents were brutal with groundings.

“Fine.” Mom exhaled. “I can see that you were trying to keep Stiles out of trouble, but next time, you’re grounded, clear?”

“Crystal.” I said solemnly.

“Good.” Mom nodded, her curly bob bouncing. “We’ve got to get to work, so get dressed for school.”

My parents shuffled out of my room and shut the door firmly, leaving me alone to get ready for school. I took a quick shower, washing off the rest of the grime from last night, before drying and curling my hair.

I entered my closet and picked out a taupe colored t-shirt, a plaid skater skirt, and some black mary-jane wedges, before topping it off with a black peacoat. I grabbed my wand and shoved it in my Michael Kors tote bag with the rest of my school stuff and ran downstairs, hopeful that my parents didn’t leave without me.

After being dropped off at school, I stood waiting for Stiles to arrive. While I was waiting my phone chirped with a text message from Scott.

Was attacked by something last night. Tell you more later.

I sighed as I read the text, my nerves bubbling inside my stomach. What the hell could’ve attacked Scott but left him alive? It just didn’t make sense.

“Hey, Y/N.” Stiles greeted as he approached me.

“Where’s Scott?” I asked, not even acknowledging his greeting. “Is he okay? Oh, my God, we shouldn’t have left him. This is not okay!”

“Y/N!” Stiles yelled, grabbing my upper arms tightly and pulling me closer to him. “Scott was obviously well enough to text us, okay? You need to calm down and use your brain sometimes.”

“Hey, I’m smarter than you.” I pointed out, extremely offended. Sure, I didn’t have the most common sense, but I had a 5.0 GPA, which was second in the class. “Anyway, did Scott give you any more information?”

“Well, he was bit by something.” Stiles sighed, “But that’s all he told me.”

“Oh, my God, Stiles, this is all our fault.” I groaned. “I—”

“Hey, guys!” Scott greeted us, sounding very chipper. I turned to face him with a bewildered face.

Before I could say anything, Stiles spoke up.

“Okay, let’s see this thing.” Stiles said excitedly to Scott. Scott lifted up his dark gray t-shirt to reveal a large path of blood speckled gauze taped haphazardly to his tan skin.

“Ooh!” Stiles cooed, reaching forward to touch the covered wound. Before he could make contact, I grabbed his hand and pulled it away from Scott’s body, so he couldn’t poke at it.

“So, what it the hell attacked you?” I asked, clearing my throat.

Scott shrugged on his backpack. “It was too dark to see much, but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.”

I looked at him in quiet confusion. There were no wolves in California. Stiles and I had to do a report together one time about animal migration and we concluded that there hadn’t been wolves in California in sixty years.

“A wolf bit you?” Stiles asked, his tone doubtful.

Scott nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“No, not a chance.” Stiles denied, shaking his head.

“I heard a wolf howling.” Scott declared as we started walking towards the entrance of the school.

“No, you didn’t.” Stiles insisted.

Scott gave Stiles a glare, annoyed by the taller boy’s defiance.

“What do you mean, no, I didn’t? How do you know what I heard?”

Stiles walked ahead a little then abruptly turned around, stopping Scott and I in our tracks.

“Because California doesn’t have wolves, okay? Not in, like, sixty years.” Stiles informed Scott.

Scott tilted his head at the new information, soaking it in. “Really?”

“He’s right, Scott.” I said gently. “There are no wolves in California.”

Scott sighed, but then perked up. “All right, well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf, then you’re definitely not gonna believe me about when I tell you I found the body.”

Stiles flailed his arms excitedly, almost hitting me in the boob. “You—are you fucking with us?”

Scott grinned. “No, man, I wish. I’m gonna have nightmares for a month.”

“I can give you some tea to help you with that, Scott.” I spoke up, thinking about the Dreamless Sleep potion my dad often made.

“Oh, god, that is fucking’ awesome!” Stiles said loudly, ignoring my offer to Scott. “I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that’s happened to this town since—”

He looked past Scott and I with a dreamy look in his eyes. I turned around to see Lydia Martin, the queen bitch of the school.

Stiles has been in love with her since the third grade. It was seriously depressing, and I hated the feeling I always had when he talked about her.

I scowled at the ground as Stiles continued, “Since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey, Lydia—” He called out. “You look—like you’re gonna ignore me.”

Lydia did indeed ignore him. She walked past us and chatted with her air-headed friend. Stiles stared wistfully after her before turning back to Scott and I.

“You two are the cause of this, you know.” He accused us.

Scott and I shared a look. Scott’s was amused, mine was annoyed.

“Uh-huh.” We said in unison.

“Dragging me down to your nerd depths.” Stiles continued. “I’m a nerd by association. I’ve been scarlet-nerded by you guys.”

The bell rang, and I started walking off to class, not bothering to wait for the boys.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Stiles called out.

I turned back to him and said bluntly, “To prove how nerdy I am by going to class.”

Scott laughed, and Stiles shook his head grinning as they both ran to catch up with me.

"As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night." Mr. Curtis announced in front of the class in English. Scott and I looked back at Stiles where he shot us a wink, followed by a snicker.

"And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened." Mr. Curtis continued. "But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody, which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining this semester."

Mr. Curtis held up a thick, white packet of paper and the entire class groaned in annoyance.

I was on page nine of the syllabus (seriously, how many pages were there?) when the door to the classroom opened and Mr. Donovan, the vice-principal that no one ever sees, walked in with a tall, stylish girl with dark curls that fell down to her waist.

"Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent." Mr. Donovan declared. "Please do your best to make her feel welcome."

I sneered at her last name, but ultimately decided to get to know the girl and decide for myself whether or not she was a threat.

Allison ducked her head as she walked to the only empty seat, which happened to be right behind Scott. I watched curiously as Scott reached for the extra pen on his desk and turned around, handing the pen to her.

Allison, who looked confused, grabbed it delicately. "Thanks."

Mr. Curtis cleared his throat then. "We'll begin with Kafka's Metamorphosis, on page one hundred and thirty-three."

•

At the end of the day, when I was opening my locker, I noticed that Allison was right next to me, struggling to open hers.

"You have to jiggle it a little bit." I advised her. "Otherwise it gets stuck."

Allison smiled over at me before giving the lock a jiggle. The locker popped open.

"Thanks." She sighed, putting her books in the metal case.

"No problem." I said. "I'm Y/N Stark. We have English and Econ together."

"Oh yeah," Allison breathed. "Nice to meet you. I'm Allison Argent."

"Well, Allison Argent, you are my new bestie." I declared. "Forget Stiles and Scott. You're cooler and more fashionable."

"Oh, thank you." Allison said dramatically. "I was beginning to think I would never make friends!”

We laughed together but a voice interrupted us, "That jacket is absolutely killer. Where'd you get it?"

Lydia Martin stood before us, her hand held up in a preppy way.

"My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco." Allison told her.

Lydia nodded and turned to me. "And you," she glanced down at my outfit and slowly smiled. "Your outfit is adorable. Are you new too?"

"Lydia, we've been in the same classes since third grade." I deadpanned.

Lydia nodded slowly. "Right. Well," She clapped. "You two are my new best friends."

Fucking great.

Jackson Whittemore, the captain of the lacrosse team and the most popular guy in school, walked up to Lydia and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Hey, Jackson." Lydia greeted before slamming her lips back to his. Finally, after they were done disgusting Allison and I, Lydia turned back to us.

"So, this weekend, there's a party."

"A party?" Allison repeated.

Jackson nodded. "Yeah. Friday night. You both should come."

Allison grimaced. "Uh, I can't. It's family night this Friday. Thanks for asking."

Jackson looked at her in disbelief. "You sure? Everyone's going after the scrimmage."

"You mean like football?" Allison asked hopefully.

Jackson scoffed, causing the brunette to shrink away from him. "Football's a joke in Beacon. The sport here is lacrosse. We've won the state championship for the past three years."

Lydia beamed and cupped Jackson's cheek. "Because of a certain team captain."

Jackson preened under her attention before turning back to Allison and I. "Well, we have practice in a few minutes. That is, if you don't have anywhere else—"

"Well, I was going to—"

"Perfect—" Lydia interrupted Allison. "You're coming."

Lydia grabbed both mine and Allison's hands and dragged us down the hall to her locker. She opened it up quickly and pulled out a dressy coat and a hat.

"I'm Lydia Martin, by the way." She hummed, fixing her hair in the mirror. "What are your names?"

"Allison Argent." Allison responded.

"Y/N Stark." I said dully.

Lydia blew a kiss at herself in the mirror and turned back to us. "Wonderful. Come on, practice is going to start soon."

We made our way to the lacrosse pitch and climbed the small set of bleachers. Stiles and Scott stood by the bench and I waved at them.

Stiles looked at me in astonishment and subtly pointed at Lydia. I rolled my eyes and shrugged in return.

"Who's that?" Allison asked, nudging me with her super sharp elbow.

"Oh, that's Stiles, my best friend." I answered her.

Allison nodded, a secretive smile of her face. She nodded to the player in goal. "What about him?"

I squinted at the player and saw a number eleven etched on the back of his practice jersey. Holy shit, Scott was in the goal! He never plays!

"Him? I'm not sure who he is." Lydia answered, butting into our conversation. "Why?"

Allison shook her head. "He's in my English class."

"That is Scott McCall. He's like my brother, and is, indeed, in our English class." I whispered to her.

Allison grinned widely.

The assistant coach blew his whistle prompting the practice to begin. I watched as Scott clutched his helmet, squirming around.

Was he in pain? What's wrong with him?

The first player in line booked forward and shot the ball straight towards the goal. The ball hit Scott right on the helmet, making him fall to the ground.

"Hey, way to catch with your face, McCall!" Jackson yelled to Scott as everyone else laughed.

Scott stood back up slowly, ready to prove everyone wrong.

"C'mon, Scott." I whispered, clenching my hands into fists.

The next player in line ran forward and shot the ball. It landed right in Scott's net.

"Yeah!" I heard Stiles call out, while I clapped enthusiastically.

The line of players dwindled down. They each threw the ball and Scott caught it every single time.

I was so proud of my son.

"He seems like he's pretty good." Allison observed.

"Oh, very good." Lydia purred.

Jackson angrily strutted up to the front of the line and put his stick out in front of the next player, effectively cutting the line. He started running towards the goal in an almost dramatic way. He twisted his stick and jumped into the air, whipping the ball towards the net.

I held my breath, but I didn't need to, because Scott caught that damn ball in one swift maneuver.

Stiles jumped up and screamed out in joy, throwing his arms up in the air. I bounced in place, clapping madly as I grinned at Scott. Even Lydia got up and cheered loudly, which surprised me.

"That is my friend!" Stiles yelled loudly, causing me to laugh loudly.

-

“I don’t—I don’t know what it was.” Scott said in an amazed tone as he splashed through a creek in the preserve. We were trying to find Scott’s inhaler, which he lost last night, and the subject of lacrosse practice came up.

“It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball.” He continued. “And that’s not the only weird thing. I-I can—hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. Smell things.”

“Smell things?” Stiles asked in an amused voice. “Like what?”

“Like the coconut scented lotion Y/N uses and the mint-mojito gum in your pocket.” Scott proclaimed, pointing at Stiles’ jacket.

Stiles paused and dug his hand into his jacket pocket. “I don’t even have any mint-mojito—”

Stiles pulled out a piece of green gum and looked at it in amazement. Scott gave him an ‘I-told-you-so’ look.

“So all this started with a bite.” Stiles stated, running to catch up with Scott and I, who had continued to walk while he had paused.

“What if it’s like an infection,” Scott worried. “Like, my body’s flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?”

“You know what? I actually thing I’ve heard of this—It’s a specific kind of infection.” Stiles told Scott.

“Are you serious?” Scott asked Stiles with a horrified expression.

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded, putting his hands on his hips. “Yeah, I think it’s called—lycanthropy.”

I pursed my lips and gave Stiles a glare. Lycanthropy was not something to joke about, and if Scott was actually a werewolf, then he was screwed. Especially if the Argents were in town.

Scott, my dear Scott, didn’t know what lycanthropy was, though.

“What’s that?” He asked. “Is that bad?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s the worst.” Stiles confirmed Scott’s worst fear. “But only once a month.”

“Once a month?” Scott asked before looking at me for confirmation. “Like a per—”

“No, Scott, you won’t have a period.” I toned, rolling my eyes while Stiles snickered.

“It’s on the night of the full moon, Scott.” Stiles declared before howling loudly.

Scott scowled at Stiles and shoved his shoulder while Stiles chuckled.

“Hey, you’re the one who heard a wolf howling.” Stiles laughed, raising his arms in defeat.

“Hey, there could something seriously wrong with him, Stiles.” I spoke up, annoyed.

“I know! He’s a werewolf!” Stiles exclaimed before fake growling. Scott and I both gave him an unamused look. “Okay, obviously I’m kidding. But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it’s because Friday’s a full moon.”

Scott stopped walking suddenly, looking around as though he recognized where we were at.

“No, I-I could have sworn this was it.” Scott said as he crouched down, sifting through some dead leaves. “I saw the body; the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler.”

“Maybe the killer moved the body.” I suggested solemnly.

“If he did, I hope he left my inhaler.” Scott said, looking up at me. “Those things are like eighty bucks.”

Stiles and I snickered, but all of a sudden, Stiles pulled me behind him, protecting me from whatever he saw behind me.

“Stiles, what?”

“Shh.” He whispered.

I leaned around him to see a young man, probably a couple years older than us, approach. He looked eerily familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“What are you doing here?” The guy asked harshly. “Huh? This is private property.”

Private property? The only house near here was the old, burnt down Hale house. How could he know about that? Then it clicked. This was Derek Hale, one of the only survivors of the Hale House fire.

“Uh, sorry, man, we didn’t know.” Stiles apologized, rubbing his head nervously.

“Yeah, we were just looking for something, but—” Scott said, pausing when Derek gave him an expectant look. “Uh, forget it.”

Derek whipped something at Scott, who caught the thing easily, and turned to leave, but not before giving me a curious glance. I turned to Scott to see him holding his lost inhaler, staring at it curiously. When I looked back up, Derek was gone.

“Uhm. All right, come on, I gotta get to work.” Scott said, starting to walk away when Stiles stopped him.

“Dude, that was Derek Hale.” Stile told him. “You remember, right? He’s only like a few years older than us.”

“Remember what?” Scott asked.

“His family.” Stiles explained. “They all burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago.”

“It was six.” I murmured, remembering the event quite clearly. I had woken up in the middle of the night screaming my head off, telling my mom about a house caught on fire. The next morning the story about the Hale’s was in the paper.

“What?”

“The fire was six years ago.” I spoke louder. “I wonder what he’s doing back?”

Stiles scoffed, shaking his head. “Who knows. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

-

I sighed as I relished in the soft, but toned physique of Stiles’ chest, resting my head on his right pec. One of his arms was wrapped around my body, his hand resting on my lower back, while his other arm tapped a rhythm on his toned stomach.

We cuddled often, which was weird to say since we’re just friends. It mostly came up when one of us was feeling vulnerable, or even just tired, and we needed someone to hold on to.

The sound of my phone ringing brought me out of my sleepy daze and Stiles groaned, burying his face in my hair. I slowly untangled myself from his form and grabbed my phone, taking a seat at my desk.

“Hey, Allison.” I chirped. My tone was perky, but I was really feeling the opposite.

“Oh, my God, Y/N, I have so much to tell you.” Allison gushed as a greeting. “I hit a dog—"

“You hit a dog?” I asked in shock. “You hit a pour doggo?”

“Yeah, but—” Allison started to say, but was interrupt by Stiles’ loud groan.

“Y/N, come on.” Stiles groaned.

“Who was that?”

“I’m talking to Allison right now, you’ll have to wait.” I told Stiles.

“Y/N, who’s that?” Allison repeated.

“It’s Stiles.” I answered her reluctantly, scared of what questions she was going to ask.

“What were you doing? Did I interrupt something?”

“No, we were just cuddling.” I assured her. “He can wait.”

“You guys cuddle? Are you together?” She asked.

“Yes, to your first question, no to your second.” I sighed. “Now tell me what happened.”

“So, I hit a dog, right? Well, I figured I should take it to the animal clinic, and it turns out that Scott was there. He totally repaired her leg and put a cast on it. Then—”

“Spit it out!”

“Okay, okay, jeez. Anyway, Scott asked me to go to Lydia’s party with him!”

“No!” I gasped. Scott ask a girl out? Never in a million years did I think this would happen.

“Yes!” She squealed.

“What’d you say? What about your family night?”

“Family night was a total lie and I told him yes!”

“Yes!” I hissed in celebration. I turned to Stiles, who looked at me expectantly. “Scott asked Allison on a date and she said yes!”

“Whoopee!” Stiles said sarcastically causing me to scowl at him.

“Anyway, I have to go Y/N.” Allison said. “See you later.”

“Bye!” I sang into the receiver before hanging up. I twirled around in my chair to face Stiles, who opened up his arms.

“C’mere.”

I sighed and stood up, walking over to my bed and crawling over to him. We situated ourselves so that he could be the little spoon. He sighed in content as he laid his head on my breasts.

“You have nice boobs.”

“Thanks, I think.” I snickered.

“It was a compliment.”

-

The rest of the week went by quickly with more weird behavior from Scott. He was doing really well in lacrosse, even though he sucked horribly before, he didn't use his inhaler at all, and he even told Stiles and I that he slept walked into the woods one night.

"Y/N, you'll never guess what I overheard on the phone." Stiles panted as he ran up to me before the last elimination round practice.

"What?"

"The fiber analysis came back from the lab in L.A. They found animal hairs on the body from the woods." He informed me.

"What animal?" I furrowed my eyebrows.

"It was a wolf." He said solemnly.

"But I thought that there are no wolves in California?"

He nodded. "But what if— Y/N, what if my joke the other day was true?"

"What, the werewolf joke?" I asked astonished. I hoped it wasn’t true, but all the signs pointed to it. From what my dad told me about werewolves, Scott could very well be one.

"Look, I know how dumb it seems," Stiles started. "But the new reflexes, the sensitive hearing and sense of smell? He doesn't even need his fucking inhaler anymore—"

Stiles was still rambling cutely but stopped once I interrupted him.

"I believe you."

"You do?" He asked in disbelief. "I mean, great!"

"What do we do?"

Stiles paused for a minute, clearly thinking of a plan.

"Alright, you go to the library, get as many books on lycanthropy as you can find, them meet me at my house at seven." He ordered.

"Yes sir." I nodded, causing Stiles to look at me with a strange expression. "What?"

Stiles shook his head. "N-nothing."

It was me who was giving him a look now. I shook my head before running to my bike.

•

 I arrived at Stiles' house with a bag full of books and let myself in my own key. I made my way up to his room and swung the door open, causing the boy of my affections to jump in his seat.

Stiles turned to me and saw I was struggling with the sack of heavy books I was carrying. He walked over to me and surprisingly kissed my cheek and took the bag from me.

My face burned from where he kissed it, so I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see me blushing.

"You look nice." Stiles smiled gently at me.

"Oh." I squeaked in surprise. "Thank you. Uh, the party's at ten, so I figured we could head over there after we tell Scott."

He sat down in his chair heavily, a gloomy look on his face. "I wasn't invited to the party."

“Well, Lydia said to invite anyone we wanted, so now you’re invited.” I said with a smile.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Stiles grinned.

I smiled back at him genuinely and took a seat on his bed, taking a book out to start reading.

Two hours later, Stiles' floor was covered with print outs of information about werewolves. I had almost fallen asleep twice already, but Stiles shouted my name each time to wake me up.

There was a knock on the door causing both Stiles and I to jump in our seats. Stiles closed his MacBook and wandered over to his door. He opened it, revealing a smiling Scott.

“Get in.” Stiles sighed. “You gotta see this thing.”

He ushered Scott in and Scott set his backpack down next to me.

“Y/N and I've been up all night reading—websites, books. All this information.” Stiles rambled.

Scott looked on amused. “How much Adderall have you had today?”

“A lot.” I told Scott. I had seen Stiles take at least three pills since I’ve been here.

“Doesn't matter.” Stiles shook his head. “Okay, just listen.”

Scott sat down on the bed. “Oh, is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?”

“No, they're still questioning people, even Derek Hale.” Stiles informed him.

“Oh, the guy in the woods that we saw the other day.”

“Yeah!” Stiles exclaimed. “Yes. But that's not it, okay?”

“What, then?” Scott asked.

Stiles sighed. “Remember the joke from the other day? Not a joke anymore.”

Scott looked confused, so I jumped in to help him remember. “The wolf, Scott—the bite in the woods.”

“We started doing all this reading.” Stiles said before standing up. “Do you even know why a wolf howls?”

“Should I?”

“It’s a signal.” I said, remembering the passage from the lycanthropy book I read. “When a wolf’s alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack.”

“So, if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby.” Stiles took over. “Maybe even a whole pack of ‘em.”

Scott perked up, his eyes wide. “A whole pack of wolves?”

“No—” Stiles grimaced. “Werewolves.”

Scott stared at Stiles with a blank face before heaving himself to his feet. “Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I’m picking up Allison in an hour.”

Scott grabbed his backpack and started to leave, but Stiles put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“I saw you on the field today, Scott. Okay, what you did wasn’t just amazing, all right? It was impossible.”

“Yeah, so I made a good shot.” Scott mumbled, going to leave.

Stiles stopped him again and grabbed his backpack, slamming it down on the bed.

“No, you made an incredible shot, I mean—the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. Y’know, people can’t just suddenly do that overnight. And there’s the vision and the senses, and don’t even think we don’t notice that you don’t need your inhaler anymore.

“Okay!” Scott exclaimed. “Guys, I can’t think about this now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” I shrieked. “What? No! The full moon’s tonight. Don’t you get it?”

“What are you guys trying to do?” Scott spat, his eyes narrowed. “I just made first line. I got a date with a girl who I can’t believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?”

Stiles sighed as he sat down in his desk chair. “We’re trying to help. You’re cursed, Scott. You know, and it’s not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”

Scott stared down at Stiles blankly. “Bloodlust?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, your urge to kill.”

Scott breathed in deeply. “I’m already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles.”

I picked up the book I had discarded and held it up to my face. “You gotta hear this: “The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.”” I read out loud. “All right? I haven’t seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does.”

Stiles stood up and crossed the room to the bed. “You gotta cancel this date.” Stiles rummaged through Scott’s backpack. “I’m gonna call her right now.”

“What are you doing?” Scott groaned.

Stiles grabbed Scott’s cellphone from the front pocket of his backpack and walked back to his desk. “I’m canceling the date.”

“No, give it to me!” Scott shouted, grabbing Stiles firmly by the biceps and pushing him into the wall. He held up a fist to Stiles’ face as if to punch him, but he paused at my yelp.

“Scott!”

Scott roared in anger and swiped at the desk chair, knocking it over. His heavy breathing evened out in puffs as he looked back at a disgruntled Stiles.

“I’m sorry.” Scott said, pulling away from Stiles. “I—I gotta go get ready for that party.”

He walked to me and I picked up his backpack, silently handing it to him.

“I’m sorry.” Scott repeated as he opened the door, giving Stiles one last look before shutting the door.

I rushed over to Stiles and reached up to cup his face in my palms. “Are you okay?”

Stiles eyes gazed into my own and I felt my heart melting at the emotion in them.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” I whispered. “That’s good.”

I slowly pulled away from him and turned, picking up the desk chair. I gasped as I set the chair back on it’s wheels, my gaze on the three claw marks ripped into the fake leather.

“What?” Stiles asked, looking over at me.

I wordlessly pointed to the scratches.

“Fuck.”

My phone dinged then and I went to pick it up out of my clutch. It was a text from Lydia.

Don’t forget about my party!

I huffed loudly and turned to Stiles. “Get dressed. We have a party to get to.”

-

The music was so loud at the party I thought my ear drums were going to burse. Allison and Scott arrived ten minutes after me and Stiles, and since then we’ve been watching them dance.

When I say ‘we’, I mean me, because Stiles was too busy laughing with some of his lacrosse buddies.

I was taking a sip from the water bottle in my hand when a hand grasped my shoulder. I gasped and turned around, only to find myself standing face to neck with Stiles.

“Do you want to dance?” Stiles shouted through the music.

I nodded hesitantly and together we walked out onto the dance floor. Stiles put his large, veiny hands on my waist and pulled me close.

We were about to start moving when someone ran into us, knocking me further into Stiles. I looked to see a tan guy that looked suspiciously like Scott plow into us, looking dazed. The full moon must’ve been affecting him.

“Yo, Scott, you good?” Stiles asked, letting go of me.

Scott didn’t answer, moving forward by me.

“Are you okay?” I questioned loudly. Scott shook his head and stumbled away. Two seconds later Allison came through and marched after him.

I looked at Stiles. “We should probably go help him.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded, taking my hand and pulling me through the crowd once again. We left the house just as Allison was getting into a black Camaro with Derek Hale.

What was he doing at a high school party?  

I didn’t have time to ponder this as Stiles yanked me towards his jeep. I got into the passenger seat and Stiles pressed on the gas, speeding to Scott’s house.

Once we got to the McCall residence we ran up to Scott’s room and pounded our fists on his locked door.

“Go away.” I heard Scott say weakly.

“Scott, it’s us.” Stiles called. “Let us in, Scott. We can help.”

There was a thump against the door and the door opened a little, locked together by a chain.

“No! Listen, you gotta find Allison.” Scott insisted.

“She’s fine, all right?” I told Scott. “We saw her get a ride from the party. She’s—she’s totally fine, all right?”

“No, I think I know who it is.”

“You just let us in. We can try—”

“It’s Derek.” Scott interrupted. “Derek Hale is the werewolf. He’s the one that bit me. He’s the one that killed the girl in the woods.”

Stiles and I looked at each other with horrified glances.

“Scott—Derek’s the one who drove Allison from the party.” Stiles broke the news.

The door slammed shut.

“Scott!” I yelled, but it was no use. He was gone.

I turned to Stiles. “We have to check on Allison.”

“No, we have to go find Scott!” He argued.

I sighed in frustration. “Neither of will can do anything against Scott when he’s like this.”

Stiles nodded. “You’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?” I quipped.

He simply rolled his eyes at me in response.

-

We pulled up to the Argent’s house and Stiles jumped out, leaving his door open and running to the front door. He pressed on the doorbell three times, then pounded his fist on the door.

The door opened and from my position I could see a tall lady with short, red hair answered the door. She looked at Stiles in confusion.

“Hi, Mrs. Argent. Um—you have no idea who I am.” Stiles greeted her so loudly that I could hear him clearly.

“I’m a friend of your daughter’s.” He continued as I slapped my hand to my forehead. “Uh—look, this is gonna sound kind of crazy, um—really crazy, actually. You know what? Crazy doesn’t even describe—”

He was interrupted my Allison’s mom. “Allison! It’s for you.”

Minutes later, after talking to Allison, Stiles jogged back to the jeep and got in. He buckled his seatbelt and stomped on the gas pedal.

“Now we find Scott?” I asked him.

He nodded, looking at the road determinedly, his tongue sticking slightly out of his lips.

“Now, we find Scott.”

The sun was rising when we finally found our furry friend. He was walking slowly on the side of the road. He was shirtless and clutching his right arm in his left hand.

Stiles slowed down and pulled up beside him so he could get in. As I climbed to the back seat, Scott climbed into the passenger seat. It was silent as Stiles started to drive again.

“Are you okay, Scott?” I asked him softly. Scott smiled weakly at me as an answer.

“You know what actually worries me the most?” Scott mumbled miserably.

Stiles glanced at him, a hard look in his eye. “If you say Allison, I’m gonna punch you in the head.”

“She probably hates me now.” Scott moaned.

“I doubt that Scott.” I comforted him. “But you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology.”

“Or,” Stiles started, a grin on his handsome face. “You know, you could just—tell her the truth and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you’re a fuckin’ werewolf.”

Both Scott and I gave him dirty looks, causing him to sigh.

“Okay, bad idea. Hey, we’ll get through this.” Stiles patted Scott on the arm. “Come on, if we have to, Y/N and I will chain you up ourselves on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once. I could do it.”

Scott didn’t look assured by this statement, so I tried to assure him myself.

“We’re here for you Scott.” I said gently. “You won’t go through this alone.”

Tag List:

@julzdec @karamelcoveredolicity @thegirlalmighty01 @avadakedabitch @supernaturallover2002 

[sebspocketsquare]

Little Do You Know 4

Pairing: TJ Hammond x fem!Reader

Story Summary: Soulmate AU. On your 21st birthday, you begin to hear the innermost thoughts of your soulmate. What will happen when your soulmate just so happens to be a drug addict struggling to recover? Did I mention that he may or may not be incredibly gay?

Warnings: bi!TJ, language, angst, feels, fluff, TJ being REALLY dreamy, mentions of a suicide attempt, the ‘L’ word.

A/N: Here’s part 4 for you guys. Let me know what you think! I️ hope you enjoy it, and of course, there will be another part after this.

A date?

What the hell do people do on dates, let alone wear?

You’d been staring at the contents of your closet for nearly an hour, trying to decide on the perfect attire for your first date. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going exactly, but he did tell you that if you wore heels, to bring a pair of shoes that are easier to walk in.

What in hell could that mean he has in store for you?

‘Calm yourself. I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be just fine. It’s only a date.’ You gave yourself a silent pep talk as you closed your eyes and took a nice, deep breath.

‘Nervous, huh?’ TJ’s voice sounding in your head immediately broke you away from your calm mindset. ‘I told you there’s no need to be nervous, babe. I’ll take good care of you.’

The words that should have been comforting to you only made you that much more nervous. I’ll take good care of you. Christ. What was this man doing to you?

You decided on a quarter-sleeve, just below knee-length maroon t-shirt dress, accompanied by your favorite pair of chucks. At least this way, you’d look nice and your feet would be comfortable on whatever kind of adventure he had planned for the two of you. What kind of adventure could he have in store for you? Everything that you’d heard or read about TJ since you had discovered exactly who he was led you to believe that he and his family were stuck-up, political animals whose idea of a good time was a fancy fundraiser or campaigning.

Sitting down at your vanity, you shook your head. ‘Happy thoughts, Y/N.. Think happy thoughts…’ You took in another deep breath and exhaled to the count of three. ‘You can do this. You’ve only been waiting your entire life for this moment.’ You’d barely finished your thought when your phone began to ring, TJ’s name flashing on your screen. Gulping harshly, you grabbed it to answer. “H-hello?” You were nervous, suddenly remembering that he was just audience to the war in your mind. “How’s it going?” He asked, and you could hear a lilt of amusement in his voice. “Oh, um.. It’s going alright.. I’m almost ready.” You spoke softly, chewing the inside of your cheek as you twirled one of your foundation brushes in your hand.”How-how about you?” You asked quickly, cursing yourself for stuttering like a child. He chuckled in return and it warmed your insides.”I’m doing alright. Just finishing up at work and then I’ll be on my way to get you..”

There was a beat of silence, and he cleared his throat. “Babe..” He started, the pet-name making your heart do flips. “I know you’re nervous..” You opened your mouth to argue, but he continued, “And don’t tell me you aren’t, because I heard your adorable pep-talk with yourself… but I promise you have nothing to be worried about.” You were too nervous to speak, still toying with the hairs on your brush. “Hey..” He spoke softly, almost as if he sensed your discomfort. “It’s just gonna be you and me.. nothing to worry about, okay?” You nodded, before clearing your throat. “Okay, yeah..” You could almost hear his smile through the phone. “I’ll see you soon.”

The next hour passed by in a blur. You had just finished lacing up your shoes when a light knock came from your front door. Taking a steadying breath, you made your way over, unlocking and opening the door slowly, revealing TJ clad in a pair of dress slacks, a light blue button up with the first few buttons undone and a grey suit jacket to match his pants. His hair was perfectly tousled and he wore a small smirk as he held out a single flower to you. “You look beautiful.” He breathed as you took the small gift from him, smiling bashfully and twirling it in your fingers. You mumbled out a ‘thanks’ which earned you a small chuckle from him. “Are you ready to go?” He wondered, his eyebrows knitting together in what appeared to be worry. “Yes. I just have to..” You trailed off, retreating into your apartment to grab your purse and keys before you locked up and followed him out.

His hand brushed against yours a few times during your short walk to his car, but you convinced yourself you were just imagining it. ‘Breathe.’ You silently told yourself, which made him laugh softly. “Here we are.” He murmured as you approached a sleek, black SUV with dark-tinted windows. He opened the car door for you, like only a gentleman would, which only made the butterfly attack on your insides a thousand times stronger. You took a moment to smooth out your hair and dress as he rounded the car and climbed in, himself. Once he started the engine, he looked over at you with an excited smile. “Here we go.”

The car ride was mostly filled with an awkward silence.. not that TJ didn’t try to strike up a conversation, but you had made yourself so anxious that you could barely say three words without fucking up. Little did you know, he found it endearing how shy you were, how much his presence affected you.

Twenty minutes later, you arrived in a small parking lot, it was too dark out to see much of anything, except a few lanterns lighting the shores of the… beach? “Do you trust me?” TJ suddenly asked, drawing your attention back to him. He was holding what appeared to be a blindfold in his hands, a nervous smile of his own hanging on his lips. You nodded slowly, eyes wide and almost betraying you. Did you trust him? You weren’t entirely sure yet… but everyone deserves a chance, right?

He leaned forward, your senses suddenly flooded with the smell of his aftershave as his hands expertly wrapped the fabric over your eyes and tied a soft knot at the base of your head. “Is that too tight?” He whispered, breath fanning over your face and making you shiver involuntarily. “N-no.. It’s perfect.” You stammered, taking in a shaky breath when his fingertips grazed over your jaw as he leaned back. “I’ll come around and help you, okay?” You nodded once more, jumping slightly when his door opened and closed. You were alone for just a few moments as he walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle, and you were almost certain your heart was going to leap out of your chest.

He opened your door carefully, as not to startle you, and then a warm hand was placed on your forearm. “Ready?” His voice shook slightly, and it relieved you a tiny bit to know that he was nervous, too. “Y-Yeah.” You breathed, reaching out blindly to find his shoulders. His hands caught yours, soft and calloused at the same time, leading your fingertips exactly where they wanted to go. “My purse..” You said softly once your feet were firmly on the ground. “I’ve got it.” One of his hands snaked its way around your waist, pulling your body into his as he leaned around you to grab your purse. “Take two steps this way.” He murmured, gently applying pressure to your hip to get you to move. You could hear the car door shut, and then the sound of it locking before his other hand made its way into yours. “Are you ready?” He asked once more, thumb tracing over the veins in the back of your hand. You squeezed his hand as you nodded, a soft smile on your lips. “Yes.”

He began to lead you forward, one of his arms around your waist with his hand on your hip, and his other hand grasping yours tightly. You could tell when you were off solid ground and walking on sand because you could barely keep yourself upright. The grainy texture made your shoes slide in every direction, and if you hadn’t been holding onto him so tightly, you were certain you would’ve fallen more times than you already had. TJ laughed a few times when you slipped, his chest rumbling and sending vibrations through your skin where his chest connected with your shoulder. “Only a little bit further..” He mused after about ten minutes. No more than two minutes later, you outright fell, taking him down with you in a fit of giggles. “I-I’m so so sorry! I guess I.. Well, I can be a little clumsy.” You confessed, your hands leaving his to make sure that the blindfold didn’t fall down too far and ruin his surprise. He laughed once more, and you decided that you would never get enough of the sound. “It’s alright.. I guess blindfolding you and bringing you to the beach wasn’t such a smart idea.” He spoke softly, and the smile fell from your mouth. “Hey..” You reached out, luckily finding his hand on the first try. “I’m having fun..I promise.” Another small smile found its way onto your face. “This is great.” He squeezed your hand as a reply and you heard him shuffling to stand. “I have an idea.. Do you trust me?” He asked the dreaded question once more, and of course, you nodded. “I do.”

Before you knew what was happening, one of his arms was bracing your back while the other slipped under your knees, lifting you straight up from where you sat and cradling you against his chest. You let out a small squeal as he lifted you and he laughed softly. “You good?” He wondered, adjusting his grip on you slightly. “Are you?” You retorted, hands latching onto his shoulders in fear of being dropped. He laughed again as he began walking forward, swaying you with each step he took. “I’m fine, babe. Don’t you worry about me.”

He continued to walk for a few minutes and you tried to relax in his grip, resting your head in the crook of his neck and breathing in his scent deeply. Your nose brushed against his ear as you nuzzled further in and you swear you felt him shiver against you. “Here we are..” He told you quietly, and you heard the distinct sound of shoes on a wooden surface, but it seemed as if his steps were careful - uneven maybe? “I’m gonna set you down here for a minute..” He informed you as he placed you carefully on a cushioned seat, his fingers tracing your arms softly as he coaxed you to release his neck. “Babe, have you ever been on a boat before?” He asks, fastening what feels like a seatbelt around your waist carefully. “Uh.. When I was a child, yes. Recently…? Not so much.” Your voice was small, and you were positive he knew you were unsure about the situation at hand. Without his warm, calming presence beside you, you realized just how cold and anxious you really were. Goosebumps broke out on your skin as you bit your lip.

“Do you get motion sickness easily?” He asked, and you could hear what sounded like keys jingling. “N-no, not really.. Teej, are we.. Are we on a boat?” You squeaked, folding your hands neatly in your lap, hoping it would make you look less nervous. He laughs again, sounding further away than before. “Yes, sweetheart. We are. Are you going to be okay?” He wonders, and you hear his steps coming towards you again. You reach out and he grasps your hands in his as he kneels in front of you. “I-I think so.” You manage to stutter, a small smile making its way to your lips as his thumbs stroke your hands again. “I put you here because it’s the only place with a seatbelt.. I have to steer, but.. If you want to sit with me, you can.. I can just hold onto you.” He offers, a bit more pressure being added to his caress. You open your mouth to protest, to tell him you’re fine where you are, but his voice enters your mind. ‘I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.. You’re too important to me.’ You open and close your mouth a few times before you nod slowly, gripping onto his hands tightly. “Don’t let me fall, Teej..” You whisper as you pull yourself into a standing position. His hand finds its home back on your waist as he leads you across the deck slowly. “Never.”

“Stand right here for a second..” He instructs once you’ve taken about ten steps. You do as you’re told, listening carefully to the water crashing gently against the sides of the boat. It’s almost calming.. but as soon as you feel both of his hands on your hips, the calmness slips away. “Here we go..” He murmurs, turning you so your back is to him and then leading you backwards, until you ultimately find a seat on… his lap? The warmth he exudes is so inviting, you have to stop yourself from melting right into him. “Ready?” He wonders, one arm securely around your waist as you hear him put the key into the ignition. Your hands move down to the arm around your middle, gripping onto him tightly. “Ready.”

Ten minutes later, the speed of the boat begins to slow and you feel the boat make a slight right turn. “Are we almost there?” You ask, wishing you weren’t blinded anymore. “Yes ma’am.” He replies, his grip on your waist loosening slightly. You panic and tighten your grip on him, not quite ready to leave the safety of his embrace. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.” He soothes, pressing his lips to your shoulder through the fabric of your dress. “I’m not letting you go anywhere.” He assures you as the current seems to get a bit more bumpy. “A few more minutes.”

You continue to hold onto him tightly, tighter even, as the boat comes to a stop and he cuts the engine. You stay where you are for a moment, his other arm circling your waist, too, as he rests his head against your back, breathing you in. “Y/N..?” He says your name softly and you cock your head to the side to show that you were listening. “Thank you.. For giving me this chance.. I know it took a lot, all things considered, but..I’m really glad you’re here with me.” His words make your heart race, and you’re sure that the smile on your face can’t get any bigger.

He clears his throat, embarrassed, you’re sure, before he stands up slowly and takes you with him. “Give me two more seconds and then the blindfold can come off, I promise.” He says quickly before taking a few steps away from you. You wrap your arms around yourself as you listen to him walk back and forth, mumbling quietly to himself. You take this time to close your eyes behind the cloth cover and take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop beating so wildly inside your chest. It was just TJ. Just the man you were destined to spend the rest of your life with. There was no reason for you to be nervous. Right?

You were so focused on your breathing, you hadn’t even noticed when TJ came up behind you and removed the blindfold, your eyes still closed. “You can open your eyes, now.” He breathed, his lips brushing your ear with each word. You felt your cheeks flush when his hands delicately came to rest on your hips and his chin on your shoulder. When you opened your eyes, the sight nearly brought you to tears.

You were in the middle of a body of water, the only lights being those from the stars and those from the candles on the small table he had set up for the two of you in the center of the deck. He’d even gone so far as to make an elaborate dinner, champagne included. “Oh, Teej..” You said breathlessly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “Do.. do you like it?” He wondered, insecurity seeping into his tone. You turned in his grasp, wrapping your arms tightly around him and hiding your face in his neck. “I love it. Thank you.” You mumbled against his skin as he, too, wrapped his arms around you. “I was hoping you would.. I.. I wanted to make it something you’d remember.. forever.” He said softly, his hands rubbing up and down your back slowly. You pulled back just enough to wipe away a stray tear that had trickled out. He noticed and cradled your cheek in his hand, concern in his eyes. “Are.. Are you crying?” He asked, thumb tracing the dampness under your eye. “Good tears, Teej.. Good tears.” You assured him by pressing your lips to his cheek lightly, pulling back when you realized what you’d done. Upon further examination, you could see a blush taking over his cheeks as he bit his lip to keep from smiling too big.

“Shall we?” You asked, turning in his grasp to head over to the table. “Wait.. I.. I want to do something first..” He held onto your waist, keeping you from going too far. “Hmm?” You mused as you turned back to face him. You hadn’t realized how close you had been to him, but you were now nose-to-nose, his breath fanning over your face. He held your gaze as his hand came up to brush a stray hair away from your face, lingering on your jaw. You leaned into his touch, which seemed to delight him, as he let out a soft sigh of appreciation. “Can I be completely honest with you?” He asked, tongue darting out to wet his lips. You nodded, nuzzling further into his touch. “I.. I want to kiss you so, so badly right now..” His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and you pucker, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of his finger. “I want to feel the softness of your lips on mine.. taste you..” He pauses once more, chewing the inside of his cheek. You feel a blush creep up your neck and you pray he doesn’t notice.

Of course, he does. “God, I love how easily I can make you blush..” He hums when your blush deepens, his forehead coming to rest against your own as he lets out a breathy laugh. “You have no idea what you do to me..” He grabs one of your hands, tucking it inside his shirt, on bare skin, just above his heart. “Do you feel that?” He asks, fluttering his eyes closed. You turn your focus from how beautiful his eyelashes are to the rapid beating of his heart under your hand. It brings a smile to your lips. “It’s like this, anytime I’m around you.. hell, even just the thought of you..” He trails off, swallowing nervously. “I.. You once told me that you weren’t my type, but.. baby, nobody else makes me feel the way you do.. Nobody else has this affect on me.. I need you to understand that.. to know that for me, you’re it.” He finishes, opening his eyes slowly to gauge your reaction. He didn’t expect to find you with tears in your eyes.

“Baby..” He starts, cupping your cheeks in both hands, not even noticing that your hand hasn’t left it’s spot on his chest. You shake your head, discouraging him to speak. “Teej…” You start, letting out a shaky breath. “Do you remember.. a few years back, when..” You stop, closing your eyes tightly as more tears threatened to fall. Your chest began to tighten with emotion and you weren’t sure you could continue without crying. “W-when I thought you had died, I..” His grip on you tightens at your words and he takes a sharp breath in. “I stayed in bed for days, Teej, I-I was so convinced it was my fault - that there was something I could’ve done to stop you, I could’ve tried harder to get through to you, I-” He cuts you off, shushing you and pulling you into a tight hug. “N-No, please, I have to get this out.” You tell him, pushing back slightly, not meeting his eyes. “I thought my life was over…” There’s a beat of silence before you look back up and meet his eyes with a sad smile, sniffling a bit. “When I heard your groggy voice in my mind as you were waking up.. I.. I can’t even describe all of the emotions that went through me.. Relief, happiness.. Anger… But most of all..” You stopped again to take a shaky breath. “A desire to know you. To help you. To love you, especially when you couldn’t love yourself.. It was like my purpose had been renewed, I.. I’m not really sure how to explain it.. I can be bad with words sometimes, but I..” You tucked your hair behind your ear anxiously, chewing your lip. “I..I think I loved you before I even met you.” When you meet his eyes and see how wide they are, you panic instantly. “I-I I know it’s soon to say that, we only really met a few weeks ago, but I.. It’s the truth. I’m sorry..” You finished, closing your eyes in the hopes that you’d disappear into the night. You always said too much. You were always too much.

“Let me get this straight.. You’re apologizing for loving me?” He asks, his hands coming to rest on your upper arms as he pulls you into his chest. “Look at me, baby, please.” He pleads, thumbs making soothing circles on your arms. You open your eyes slowly, meeting stormy, emotion filled orbs. “Please, don’t ever apologize for that.. for anything.. I’m the one who should be sorry, okay? I didn’t appreciate you.. And I will spend the entirety of my life regretting that, and doing whatever it takes to make up for it. Please, just.. Don’t stop loving me.. I-I need you. I’ve never needed anybody before, but god, do I need you.” He’s crying now, a few tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. You catch them before they can get too far, offering him a smile. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here. Right here.” You tell him, standing on the tips of your shoes to reach up and kiss his jaw softly. He turns his head quickly, though, capturing your lips with his own. 

Your heart feels like it might explode. One of his hands tangles its way into the hair at the base of your head, deepening the kiss as he pulls you even closer by your waist with his other hand. The kiss is electrifying, all of the nerves in your body feel like they’re firing all at once, your head is spinning and all you can think about is getting even closer to him. Your lips feel tingly each time they meet his and your skin feels like it’s on fire when he touches you. ‘This is what soulmates feel like.’ His voice is in your mind, and a small whimper leaves your mouth as you push closer to him, nipping his lower lip between your teeth and gently sucking on it. He pulls back for air at this point, resting his forehead against yours. “That.. was..” You start, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Perfect.” He finishes, pressing one more soft, lingering kiss to your lips, coaxing a small sigh from you when he pulls away again. “As much as I’d like to continue kissing you for the rest of my life…” He stops to smile widely and press his lips to the tip of your nose. “We should probably eat.. I’ve promised I’d return to boat before it gets too late.” He tells you and you nod, looking back over at the table he’d set up for the two of you. “That sounds lovely.” You reply, moving to step out of his embrace. “Thank you.” He says suddenly, making your head snap in his direction. “For?” you wonder, raising a brow. He smiles with a shy shrug, suddenly preoccupied with his shoes. “For.. Taking a chance on me.” He replies softly before looking back up at you. “You never have to thank me for that.”

TAGS: @plumfondler, @mindingmyownbusiness, @fuckythebuckybarnes, @sebbyyystan, @supersoldierslover, @coveredamity, @blackcaptainrogers, @thewinterbro, @bluedahlia87

[jamesbuckfastbarnes]

Siggy and Halex vs. The Thunderstorm.

Yo yo yo, my homies! I’m proud to announce that the first installment of Siggy and Halex vs. The World is finally complete, and is called Siggy and Halex vs. The Thunderstorm. Lex’s PoV is written by the ever wonderful, and my partner in crime, @ilikechocolatemilkh​ and Sissy’s PoV is written by yours truly. Stay tuned for more adventures to come and I hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoyed writing it! - red-w00dy xoxo. 

Head over to @ilikechocolatemilkh‘s page to read the first half of the story (click to be led straight to it) which is in Lex’s POV and then come back to this for the second half otherwise it won’t make sense :) - red-w00dy xoxo

SISSY'S POV.

“Sissy, come out from under there,” Lex called when she returned to the room, Tig's arms wrapped firmly around me and the blankets still pulled over my head. “I've brought you some tea, and yes, I made it properly with lots of milk and lots of sugar.”

“Just stick it on the coffee table, Lex, she isn't coming out of those blankets any time soon,” Tig chuckled lightly, attempting to remove the blanket from my head which made me just grip the soft fabric even tighter so they wouldn't come off. “Hey, where's Rat and Miles? They're supposed to be looking after you while we're away.”

That was enough for me to peek my head out, both Lex and I flashing innocent smiles to our other halves. “Turns out Rat and Miles don't like having skillet pans thrown at their head, or me threatening to pour hot water over his dick. They ran out of here faster than the time I was running from the police when I was fifteen. And sixteen. And seventeen, thinking about it.”

“Eighteen, nineteen, twenty…” Tig rallied off, stroking his chin and pretending to think about how many times I had been in trouble with the police before I elbowed him as hard as I could. “No need for violence! I'm just saying that you're not exactly Mother Theresa.”

"More like Aileen Wuornos if you ask me," "Fuck you, Happy Lowman! In what way am I anything like a female seri-" I began before a crack of lightning filled the room, causing me to squeal and dive into Tig's lap. He wrapped his arms around me once again, biting back a laugh and patting my head in an attempt to stop me from screaming loudly into his thigh.

I continued to hide my face into Tig's jeans for another ten minutes, trembling slightly and refusing to lift my head. It wasn't until Lex started arguing with Hap and ran out of the patio doors that I sat up, seeing Lex pulling Happy out of the door and into the rain. Without thinking, I jumped up off the sofa and ran outside to get Lexy back inside, not wanting her to get electrocuted just because she thought storms were romantic. I didn't see it myself, I'd much rather go on a walk in the woods or buy a new puppy rather than risk my life by dancing around in the pouring rain, increasing the possibility of getting hit by a bolt of lightning. Just as my bare feet hit the wet grass I froze, causing Tig to ram straight into me from behind. He stepped around me and looked at me with his bright blue eyes, worry etched on his face after he saw my terrified expression.

“Babe, what's the matter?” he asked urgently, leaving me to blink a couple of times before holding my hand out to point at the small, slimy creature on the ground near his feet. I was more scared of frogs than I was of anything else, and there it was on the grass, staring with its freaky eyes as if it was ready to jump at me.

“Aw look at the little froggy!” Lex squealed when she saw what I was pointing at, tiptoeing towards us and bending down to pick it up in her hands. “Sissy, look how cute this little guy is!” She continued to move towards me with it, only stopping when Tig shook his head fervently at her. He knew just how scared I was of frogs.

“Ugh fine. Happy, come here and kiss the frog to see if it turns into a prince or not,” Lex rolled her eyes before skipping over to where Hap stood, pushing the frog towards his disapproving face. Clearly he was just as unamused as I was by Lexy's crazy behaviour, unlike Tig who was struggling to stop himself from laughing.

“The only thing I'm doing is booking you in for a hysterectomy, Lex. You're fucking batshit crazy when it's your time of the month,” Happy sighed, shaking his head and stepping away from his crazy wife who was continuing to push the frog at him. “Seriously, get that thing out of my face or it's getting launched over the fence.”

“Finally the flesh reflects the madness within, eh, Lexy?” I smirked from where Tig was now cuddling me from behind, ignoring the fact the rain was coming down harder than ever and soaking us to the bone. Lex handed the frog to Hap and whipped round to face us, skipping over with a massive grin stretching across her face.

“Well you would know all about the madness within, wouldn't you, Remus?” she shot back, doing her best impression of Sirius Black from Harry Potter. I reached forward and high fived her, causing both boys to shake their heads and Happy to mutter about us both being fucking nerds under his breath as he placed the frog through the hole in the fence.

“I don't see why you two are so obsessed with the Marauders. They were horrible bastards that treated Snape like shit, not to mention Snape is probably a million times better than all four of them put together,” Tig frowned, blinking a few times in shock after I pushed away from him and glared viciously, the same expression appearing on Lex’s face next to me.

“I would run now while you still can, brother, at least whilst you've still got the use of your legs,” Happy suggested wisely, leaning against the tree with his arms folded across his chest and droplets of water dripping down the side of his head. Clearly he didn't care  about the fact the tree wasn't keeping him sheltered from the rain at all.

“Why? Oh don't tell me you're both Jily shippers! James Potter was a fucking assho-”

Tig didn't finish his sentence due to the fact both Lex and I tackled him to the ground. He started begging for mercy once we began hitting him, holding his hands up in surrender and telling us that he was wrong, that Snape was a terrible character and the Marauders were the best in the series. Satisfied that he had learnt his lesson, Lexy and I climbed off him so he could stand up and brush the dirt off his jeans. Another oppressive boom filled the air, reminding me that we were in fact in the middle of a thunderstorm, which made me give a piercing scream and run for cover inside Happy and Lexy’s house. Tig shook his head behind me, nodding to Lexy and Happy before making his way into the house to find me. It took a while before he eventually discovered my hiding place under the spare bed, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he lay on the floor and rolled underneath the bed so we were both squashed in the tight space together.

“You're going to be the death of me, Sissy, you know that?” he smirked, pushing up next to me and wrapping his arm around my waist. I raised my eyebrows as he placed a gentle kiss against my forehead, managing to somehow keep me calm when another deafening crack echoed from outside.

“Aye, but you love me, Tiggy, don't deny it. I keep you on your toes.” I grinned back, tugging on one of his curls and burying my face into the carpet when the room filled with light, most likely from the lightning striking outside. “I fucking hate storms. Please just never make me come out from under here, I beg you.”

“I don't think Hap and Lex will be too pleased with us moving in under their spare bed, Sissy,” I looked up with raised eyebrows, confusion clearly evident on my face as Tig patted my cheek with his calloused hands. “Where you go, I go, baby. Even if it is under your best friend’s bed.”

“Fancy going to the Chinese and picking me up some prawn toast then? I'll be there in spirit, that way you're going wherever I go. I'll be your best friend if you do?” I smiled sweetly, fluttering my eyelashes at him in the hope that he would go and buy me some Chinese food.

“I would, but I'm sort of stuck under here,” Tig admitted, flashing me a guilty smile which he followed with a loud grunt when I used all my force to push him out from under the bed. “Definitely gonna be the death of me, woman.” He muttered, straightening his clothes out before heading off to go pick up takeout for everyone. Maybe there were perks to thunderstorms after all.

[joh-ska]

I am Terra - Mass Effect Fanfiction

Losing both of your parents and having your twin brother put in a medically induced coma while being handed responsibility you are in no way prepared for and forced onto a ship full of near-strangers is not helpful to an insecure, genius engineer.

-or-

Terra Ryder is trying her best and, dammit, she hopes that's good enough because she's trying really hard not to cry.

Read on AO3.

Terra had only met Cora Harper briefly before she went into cryosleep.

At the time, Terra had been kneeling next to her brother’s cryopod with her omnitool out. She was performing her third check of the system’s code to make sure everything was alright and ready to go for the six century long journey out of this cesspool of toxic memories and monstrous bigotry and—

“Is there a problem with the pod?” Terra looked up and was floored. Smooth skin, short blond hair and warm, curious eyes. She wasn’t a stranger to attraction, but dios mío, ¿alguna vez has visto a alguien tan hermoso?

“I—ah, no. Nothing wrong. Just,” Terra coughed and shoved a hand into her dark hair, “checking it over. Making sure everything’s a-o-kay. Heh.”

“Right.” And whoa, her voice. There was a slight rasp as she drew out the word that had Terra’s face warming. “I’m Lieutenant Cora Harper. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“I know! I-I mean, we haven’t met. My dad mentioned you.” Terra scrambled to her feet and jerked her hand out in front of her. She winced, “I’m, uh, Terra Ryder. Recon specialist. It’s great to, ehem, meet you.”

Cora smiled with an eyebrow raised, and she felt her heart sink. She knew that look. That was the she’s a such a weirdo! look. A familiar look, if she was honest with herself.

“Should’ve known. You share an almost eerie resemblance to your father.” She grasped her hand firmly and shook it (Cora’s supposed to be an Asari Huntress how does she have such smooth hands!?). “I’ve heard good things about your time with the Prothean researchers.”

“Good things about my ability to protect lab coats from wild pyjack attacks?” Terra scoffed before she realized what she said and smiled awkwardly. “Sorry. Right. Um, yeah. If you think I look like my dad, wait until you see Baby.”

“Baby? Who’s—?”

“That would be me.” Terra could have kissed her brother for choosing that moment to join the conversation. “The name’s Sky Ryder. Or, if you ask my family, Baby.”

Baby just waltzed up to them with bright amber eyes and a blinding smile on his stupid, scarred, tattooed face. His hair, a lighter brown than hers, was stuck up in the same course curls he got from their abuelo at haphazard angles. He’d probably just gotten up, the lazy bum.

Terra rolled her eyes and relaxed. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago, Baby. We go to cryo in ten.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. “Sorry, lady, but I needed my beauty rest.” He dropped a kiss on Terra’s forehead (“Beauty rest, my ass,” she muttered. “We’re about to get six hundred years of rest.”) before releasing her and holding out his hand to Cora. “Lt. Harper, it’s a pleasure.”

“Uhm, oh. Yes. Likewise,” Cora flushed and Terra’s heart just shattered. The baby bro strikes again, it seems. “I look forward to working with you. Two. You two. Both of you. I should, uhm, go find your father. The Pathfinder. On the bridge. We’ll be heading out soon.”

“History in the making,” Terra acknowledged. Her lips stretched woodenly across her face in a way that made the scars on the right side of her face catch the light.

“Exactly,” Cora nodded. She caught Baby’s eye briefly. “I’ll see you two on the other side.”

Watching her walk away was a sight Terra would probably dream about for the next six hundred years.

“Your drooling,” Baby grinned.

Terra shoved him. “Shut up. Am not, you loser.”

“No, no, you definitely are. Can’t say I blame you, though.” He looked back at Cora’s retreating form speculatively. “I think she can bench press you.”

She groaned. “Don’t tell me that! Now it’s in my head, and I’m gonna go to bed all hot and bothered. I’m going to wake up in six hundred years all hot and bothered.”

Baby smirked. “I think she can bench press me. Hey, ouch!” He rubbed his shoulder and glared at her. “No juegues de manos!”

“I hate you. So much. Do you even try to be unattractive near me?” Terra crossed her arms and leaned against his cryopod. She sighed. “Forget it. I checked out your pod. It’s all set.”

“Hey, don’t worry. She may not be your type—” (“What are you talking about? She’s totally my type. That’s the problem.” — “Terra, your type is anything that breathes and thinks for itself.”) “—but that doesn’t mean you need to be so down about it. There’s plenty of aliens in the galaxy and probably more in Andromeda.”

He gave her the biggest shit-eating grin she’s ever seen, and she laughed. “What would papi say if he heard you encouraging me into xenophilia?”

-He’d say to make sure you’re at least biologically compatible first.- Their father’s voice said through their comms.

They both tensed and stared at each other wide-eyed. “Papi! Uh, Pathfinder, sir,” they said in sync.

A couple of the people in the cryobay glanced at them.

-At ease, children. Just checking in. You’re both scheduled to go into cryosleep soon. Are you ready?-

Terra glanced at her brother. He looked back at her with his brow arched slightly. His gaze was as heavy as it was imploring. She sighed. “Yeah. Did you, uh, get my things transferred? The two crates. The blue ones.”

-The crates full of chocolate and seeds?- Her dad laughed. She resolutely ignored the look Baby sent her. -Yeah, I got them. They’re secured in my quarters for you. What about you, Baby?-

“Is that gonna be a thing in Andromeda? Am I ever going to be called by my actual name?”

-No.- Their dad said.

“Not likely,” Terra grinned.

“Of course not,” he sighed. “And yeah. I’m good to go, papi. Though I could use a hug.”

-Hug your sister. I’ve got flight prep to go through. I’ll see you both when you wake up. Be safe. Pathfinder out.-

“An entire crate of chocolate,” Baby said immediately after their father signed off, and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to hear her criticize the man, so she goes with it. Now isn’t the time to start a fight. Not before cryo. Not in front of all these strangers.

“Laugh all you want, but, when the repopulation effort kicks off, all those women on their periods will be coming to me with their credits.” Terra pushed herself off the pod and slapped her hand against it twice. “And, for the record, I’ve got all our spanish needs checked off in those seeds. Cilantro? Check. Pimiento? Check. Cebolla, ajo y chayote? Check, check and check. Also, cacao seeds. Can’t run out of chocolate.”

“Good to know I’m not the only one who thought ahead. There’s a year supply of tamales waiting for us in my storage crate.” Baby winked at her. “We’ll be eating like kings while everyone else is on nutrition paste.”

“That’s good to know. Just enough time to get a garden goin—”

A beep over the ark’s comms interrupted them. Immediately, it was like the easy comradery they had was sucked out of the air and airlocked into open space.

[All first-wave personnel report to the cryobay. Initiate first-wave cryosleep.]

“That’s us,” Terra said anxiously. She reached out and grabbed Baby’s hand in both of hers. It was comforting how similar their hands were: the same copper skin. Some freckles. Some moles. Some scars. Though his hand was bigger than hers, and it was somehow still less calloused.  Biotics. He was a way better biotic than she was. She could only move small objects around like a comb or datapad, while he could absolutely pulverize a small shuttle on his own. He didn’t need to tote a sniper rifle around when he could just magic his way out of danger. “We’re really doing this, huh?”

“What? Crossing dark space to a completely unknown, never before travelled galaxy with nothing but a couple of tamales and a crate of chocolate? Looks like it.” He smiled again, and it struck her how similar it looked to their mother’s smile. Anybody could look at them and say that Terra was the spitting image of their mother while Baby was a mini-Alec Ryder, but it was their smiles that said otherwise. Baby smiled like mami, and Terra? She’d only seen pictures of her father smiling freely, but it was definitely her smile she saw on his face.

“Sky,” she squeezed his hand tighter as her heartrate picked up, “I’m serious. This is dangerous. This is crazy.” She couldn’t breathe. Shit, was there an atmo breach? Why couldn’t she breathe? “I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you, and you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for dad, and dad wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for mam—”

“Okay, Terra,” Baby cut her off, “Calmate. Alright? Deep breaths.” He tugged her close and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re not here for me. You’re here for the adventure. You’re here to learn about new species and new biomes and new technology. You’re here because you love the Protheans. You’re here because you’re tired of your research being ignored. Your tired of being a Ryder in the Alliance. Okay? I convinced you to come, yeah, but you’re here for you. Not for me. That’s right, take another breath. Good.”

Terra took another breath and nodded.

“You good?”

“I’m good.”

“Good.” Baby stepped away from her and gestured to the cryopod next to his. “Hop in. I want to be the last face you see before you go to sleep, and you better be the first I see.”

“A hundred credit says I touch down planet side first,” she laughed as he helped her get into the pod. “Ya know, like I did back on Earth.”

“Two minutes. Just two minutes and you act like you completed the Boston Marathon. Unbelievable!"

“I have completed the Boston Marathon. Twice.”

“You know what, yeah. I’ll take the bet. I’ll kick your ass, too. Easiest hundred creds I’ll ever make. Now, lady, go to sleep. I’ll see you in, oh, six hundred years.”

His smiling face through the glass of the pod was the last thing Terra saw before she shut her eyes.

[nexinanoose]

667, The Storage.

Disclaimer: this is a continuation on a previous story. Again, I must insist these are not creepy pasta, the locations in these stories are real, and I do not take any responsibility for any incidents which occur should any reader choose to investigate the validity of these stories from my life. Well, after some peace in #666 we finally moved. My mom couldn't afford to move from the neighborhood because we didn't own a car and she had to stay close to her work. So we moved downstairs to apartment #667. I remember sitting on the stairs a few days before our move though. I remember looking in the direction of the apartment and couldn't shake this feeling that something was looking at me, something evil. The hairs on my arms raised up, and I couldn't move. I just sat on the steps as fear left me paralyzed. Then my eyes widened in terror once I noticed one of the blinds in the window next to the door opened up and suddenly snapped shut again. It was at this time I regained use of my motor functions and ran upstairs in a panic. I wasn't looking forward to moving into this new apartment. But regardless we moved in. The first week there, the entire apartment smelled of fresh paint and wet concrete. My mother said it was a fresh start, and everyone was happy. Everyone except for my father, who left and refused to come back. It was tough for my mom at this circumstance, so being young and upset...she told us, "your dad is a bad man, and he hates us and isn't coming back anymore." This was a really pivotal event for us kids and our relationship with my mom. From this day on, my mother began to treat my brother and myself as though she hated us, and began to force us to cater to my three sisters...who weren't exactly kind-hearted. As you can guess three girls aged eight, seven and six weren't so nice to a cootie ridden boy. They often ganged up on me, broke my toys, and whenever I cried out to my mother I simply received a calloused, "go stand in the corner since you can't leave your sisters alone". Honestly, I had been put into the corner so often and for so long, I eventually developed a highly over active imagination. I remember spending an hour with my face pressed against the cold corner walls, and imagining the texture of the wall was a snowy mountain side; I imagined small people snow boarding down it often. One day, I remember being in the corner for some reason I thought unfair at the time. I remember my brother had left with his friends to play basketball at the park just north of the projects, and my sisters sat in their room playing with their dolls and watching sailor moon. My mother was in the kitchen preparing dinner when she suddenly had to go to the neighbors house across the way to pick up something for the meal. She told me sternly, "if you leave that corner, I'm gonna make you stand longer." then she called my older sister to watch over me to report if I disobeyed. Then my mother walked out the backdoor and my older sister yanked me by my shirt and pulled me out of the corner. She then exclaimed, "I'm telling mom!" quickly my twin sister and younger sister came out the bedroom and we're witness to me being out of the corner. My knees were buckling from standing so long I begged them not to tell. They agreed, on one circumstance. I had to go into the storage and get them a candy. The storage was a very narrow and long room, the ceiling sloped at a 45 degree angle because it was beneath stairs. My mother at the time used to buy boxes upon boxes of sodas, chips, and candies, and our apartment was what the neighborhood kids referred to as, "the candy shop". My mother kept her entire supply in the storage. The storage didn't have your typical lightswitch though, it had a pull string which was to high for any of us kids to reach. Considering how dark it was, and my older sisters fear of the dark, there was no way she was going in there, but that's what little brothers are for. Reluctantly, I agreed and stumbled into the storage. I turned back to see them standing in the doorway and told them not to close the door, and asked what candies they wanted. I grabbed them their requested goodies and handed them over. Suddenly they shoved me into the storage and shut the door. There in the darkness with only the light from beneath a crack under the door I fell on the ground and yelled out. I tried to pick myself up but my knees hurt so much I couldn't even bring myself to stand. I began to crawl toward the door knowing I had to get back to the corner before my mother returned. It was then I felt a sudden sting run up my right ankle, and shoot up across my back. Something in the darkness scratched me. I crawled as fast as I could to reach the door when I felt both my ankles being squeezed as if by someone's hands. I could feel something crawling on top of me, strangled my back, when... SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! I felt the sting of fists being beat all across my back, I cried out and screamed. The storage door swung open and I saw the silhouette of my mother quickly snap for my arm like a snake. Anger in her voice she yelled at me. Unwilling to listen to my sobbing explanation, she pulled off her wooden sandle and proceeded to take her anger out on my back, and bottom. Holding me up by my arm, she hit me again and again and again and then threw me to the ground. I laid screaming out in pain. I remember she yelled, "GET BACK IN THAT CORNER OR I WILL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!" I half limped half crawled to the corner, got to my feet and was told to be silent. I couldn't decide what was more terrifying my mother's anger or whatever attacked me in the storage. I silently sobbed to the wall. I hated this place. That night I stayed in the corner until the sunset, until everyone had eaten dinner, and everyone was getting ready for bed. My mom finally told me to sit at the table alone and eat. I remember feeling like an animal, feeling unloved, and wanting to run away. This was a feeling I soon became far too familiar with as years progressed. A few months passed, I still spent most of my time standing in the corner, but on one April day my mother must have gotten great news because she actually allowed me to watch television. I remember my favorite show at the time was a show called Wishbone. It's a show about a spunky little dog who reenacts classic literature, at the time he was the coolest. I sat at the foot of my mom's bed sitting on floor. My mom sat on her bed brushing my sisters hair. We were getting ready for some event I can't quite remember. Wishbone was in the middle of an adventure dressed in a spider costume, I was so enveloped in the show that I actually jumped to my feet when I heard my sisters start yelling, "mommy!". I pulled my attention from the television and looked in the direction of my mother. Within seconds I saw in the sheets on her bed, the imprints of hands crawling toward her, crawling fast. My mother stood up out the bed and moved toward the wall. We all sat in shock as we watched the impression of someone sitting down at the edge of the bed appear. Then it lightly faded, until it was gone completely, my sisters cried out for my mother, and my mother tried to say it was OK. She was wrong. Mid sentence her voice became gurgled and looked toward us. I could see the impression of hands pressing around her neck. She stood there being chocked and slammed against her dresser, which was close by me. My sisters ran toward the door as did myself, when it suddenly slammed behind us. We cried as we heard a sudden scream come from within the room. I never heard my mother scream like that before. Just then, her door swung open and she gathered us all up and ran out the house. That night we stayed at the park north of the projects for a good hour before my aunt Rosemary came and drove us to her house. Needless to say, that time my mother actually decided to break the lease, and we moved out within the month. Thank you for reading, I will update soon.