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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

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Bubblegum Princess, Cherry Angel | Kai Parker

Hello my lovelies! 2020 is almost over, can you believe it? I sure as hell can’t! I have no idea what inspired this, I truly don’t, but it seemed only fitting to end this year off with a raunchy round of sex! Because why the fuck not! I hope you all have a safe and wonderful new years, and I can’t wait to see you all in 2021! Please enjoy loves!

Description: He smells her bubblegum lip gloss and then wonders how on earth he managed to convince an angel to let him fuck her into next week, let alone get in his truck.

Pairing: Kai Parker x Female!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC ONLY!! Smut (terribly written smut is more accurate), nothing more than the usual but, like, it is like 7000 words of pure sex so read at your own risk

Word count: 9.2k

Tags: SMUT, FLUFF

The four hours in which it took two people to find magic within each other, all thanks to one tube of drugstore, bubblegum lip gloss.

Hour One

Her bubblegum lip gloss attacks him from all the way across the café, cutting cleanly through the aroma of coffee and donuts and sending his heart racing at the obscenely sweet scent. He should hate it. No, scratch that, he shouldn’t think anything of it at all. It’s not in his nature to enjoy things- or to feel things at all, to be frank- but he can’t help it. The drugstore brand, wildly over-scented balm makes his head fuzzy like nothing else.

Kai watches as she pours over the book in front of her, tilting his head when she scrunches her nose. She murmurs something inaudible, tapping a pen to her lip a couple times. One tap, two taps, three taps. Each time that pen touches her lip he grows more envious, his heart now very much in his throat. Does the pen know her lips taste like candy? Does it at least have the courtesy to enjoy it? He releases a breath when she finally writes something down, leaving her mouth alone.

He forces his eyes away from her and back to his own coffee. Well, the term coffee should only be loosely used here; it’s more sugar and cream than actual coffee. The sweet syrup warms his chest as he takes a sip, lighting his taste buds on fire. Maybe this is what her lips taste like. He shakes his head to clear her face from his mind- a task much more impossible than one might think- before setting the mug down and turning to the device between his fingers. A cell phone.

Kai presses the ‘on’ button, his eyes lighting up with the screen. Damon had handed it- the cell phone- to him a few days ago, muttering something about leaving the 80’s in the past where it belongs, and told him to get used to it. A little apple symbol appears and he scrunches his eyebrows. Is that supposed to be there? It disappears, replaced now by a picture of the forest he took a couple days ago. That’s better. He swipes past the lockscreen, coming to a page of little square pictures. Damon said those are called apps.

He clicks on one with a little bird- Twitter, he thinks it’s called- and opens it, scrolling a little sloppily through the page. He comes across a picture, one with a man holding a guitar, and stops to look at it for a minute. It looks like someone he used to know and he clicks on the picture to check. That looks like the same birthmark and he kind of remembers the guitar-

All of a sudden the picture starts moving and music starts blaring from the phone, filling the quiet café with an obnoxious twang. It startles Kai, his heart jumping and his cheeks much too hot, and he drops the phone on the table, a sharp bang now joining the music. He grabs at his phone frantically, feeling all the stares that are now on him as he blindly searches for the ‘off’ button and sighing in relief when the screen goes black once more. Cell phones are awful, he decides in the moment.

Kai hears soft giggles as his shoulders sag, the same bubblegum fragrance tickling his senses. The musical laughter and the sugary gloss are a lethal combination, one that taunts his senses and consumes him whole. The giggles echo in his ears, invading his head and bouncing around every nerve. He turns towards the sound- he doesn’t have a choice- and his eyes meet the girl, zeroing in on her glossy lips now wrapped around the end of her pen. He takes in her face, every curve and edge, before landing on her eyes and promptly losing his breath. Does she know she’s the prettiest woman he’s ever seen?

He smiles at her and rolls his eyes in what he can only hope is a playful way, holding up the phone and shrugging his shoulders. Her eyes draw over his face and down his arm, trailing fire over him with her very gaze before landing on the estranged device. She giggles again and Kai wishes he could grab the sound out of the air and pocket it. Is that normal? He bites his cheek as she looks back to her book, the pen still between her sweet lips. He doesn’t bother trying to answer the question; he doesn’t care.

He clicks the phone once more, this time simply to check the time. A quarter to five. He glances back at the woman, his eyes widening as she slips her book into the leather bag hanging off her chair. Shit, she’s leaving. He stands quickly, shoving his phone in his pocket and slapping a five dollar bill on the table. When he looks up again she’s at the door, her bubble gum aroma fading as she clears the threshold. He shrugs his jacket on, racing out the door to catch up with her.

The cold air bites his skin as soon as steps onto main street, his eyes scanning for the pretty girl with the worn satchel and voice like a siren. He spots her halfway down the square and doesn’t think for a moment before jogging to meet her, his chest a mess of warmth and butterflies. Her head is down, lost in the sound of her heels against the pavement and quite oblivious to the love struck puppy chasing after her. It seems that only a bark will catch her attention now.

“Hey, wait up,” Kai calls, his heart screaming in his chest, “you forgot something.”

He’s a few feet away from her now and her bubblegum scent has morphed into the sweetest mixture of maraschino cherries and candy and every, little, perfect thing he’s ever experienced. It makes his mouth water and his cheeks flush, two things which are only intensified when she turns around and her eyes light up, a soft smile taking over her supple lips.

She tilts her head at him, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, “I did?”

He almost can’t answer, the cheesy line he had already lined up on his tongue melting away at the sound of her angelic voice. Two words. Two little words and she has him completely wrapped around her perfect finger. He doesn’t understand the feeling in his chest, the way her voice makes him feel like he’s breathing for the first time in his entire life, but he doesn’t care. That’s a recurring theme with this girl.

A grin spreads across his face, his stomach twisting as he finds his words once more, “you did,” he nods, taking half a step towards her. “You forgot to let me buy you dinner.”

Her face lights up even further as she throws a hand over her lips, her giggles once more flooding his body with tingles. She looks like an angel, the way her eyes close slightly when she laughs. She must know what she’s doing to him, how when she throws her head and her neck curves against the setting sun his entire body goes stiff. His fingers squeeze at his sides, wanting nothing more than to trace over her soft skin. What is going on?

“How silly of me,” she murmurs, her pretty eyes- yes that’s all he can think, that they are the most pretty eyes he’s ever seen- dancing over his face, “how could I possibly forget to let a man- whose name I don’t know- ask me to dinner?”

His cheeks flare with heat but he can’t wipe the adoring smile off his lips, “where are my manners? I’m Kai,” her takes her hand, pulling it to his lips and stealing a few more of those delicious giggles from her throat, “and I would really like to buy you dinner.”

She hums appreciatively, a wide smile on her lips. His heart flutters rapidly when she twists her fingers into his, running her thumb over his. Every part of her is soft- gentle- and he would give anything in that moment to be able to pull her into his arms. That isn’t normal, though, he knows that much.

“Kai,” she tests his name on her tongue and his heart stops, his whole being screaming at him to beg her to say it again and again, “I like that. I’m y/n,” she supplies and the name clicks into his chest like a missing puzzle piece as she continues on her little ramble, “Kai.” She tilts her head, her eyes clouded over in thought, “something is missing, though. Is that your full name?”

His eyes widen, his chest flooding with dread at her soft inquiry, “no, actually. It’s Malachai,” he winces slightly as it rolls off his tongue- he always has hated that name- watching her closely for the moment she recoils in disgust, “I know, what were my parents thinking right? I sound like a villain-”

“I like it better,” she interrupts, her eyes catching his and her hand squeezing a tad harder, “it suits you. Malachai.” This time when she says his name he has to swallow the lump in his throat, his stomach tensing, “tell me, Malachai, do you like pizza?”

Hour Two

Her heart pounds hard in her chest as she sits in the booth across from him, his chocolate and honey scent still clinging desperately to her hand. She brushes an invisible strand of hair from her face, using the excuse to breathe him in again. He’s intoxicating, she muses to herself. Does he know he’s the most handsome man she’s ever seen? He smiles at her, his grin tugging at his red lips and sending her heart even further into overdrive. He must know.

“I hope this place has good pizza,” Kai laughs, the sound like heaven to her ears, “I haven’t actually tried it yet. If it’s awful I give you full permission to hate me.

She laughs as well- she can’t help it, she never giggles this much but he around him it’s impossible to not- pressing her hand to her mouth, “you’re lucky then; you chose my favourite restaurant. I always make sure to stop by the grill when I’m home. The pizza here is wonderful.”

That’s what she says. The pizza is wonderful. What she wants to say is that she doesn’t think she could ever hate him. That five minutes under his gaze, listening to his smooth voice and honeyed laugh, is enough to have her completely spellbound. That she’s almost certain by the time an hour passes she’ll forget every other boy she’s ever laid eyes on. What she wants to say is that she thinks he’s wonderful. But that’s not normal- not proper- so she just smiles at him.

He tilts his head, his eyes skimming over her face in a way that makes her cheeks warm, “when you’re home?”

She nods, trying to ignore the way he leans towards her slightly and how it makes her blood pump harder, “I go to school out of town. Not too far away but far enough that I have to live on campus. I actually have to head back tonight,” her heart stings for a moment, thinking about how she only just met him and now she has to leave, “I was only here for a day.”

“So I only have a few hours,” he hums, his smile like a bullet straight to her heart, “I think that’s enough time.”

His fingers slide slowly across the table, his pinky skimming her hand. It’s the simplest of touches- just a brush of his skin against hers- but it’s like she can feel all of him through it. She can feel his hands skimming her body, every inch of it, in intricate detail, as if she’s been in this very moment before and her muscles can recall each of his. It only increases when he grins, no doubt catching the way she sucks in a breath. The sinful twist of his lips strikes something in her. She has felt those lips on her, perhaps not in this life but definitely in another. She can feel it.

She’s breathless, the phantom feeling of his mouth on hers consuming her completely even as she speaks, “enough time for what?”

He slips his fingers between hers and she sighs, the feeling of their hands fitting so perfectly together overwhelming, “enough time to make you fall in love with me, obviously.”

Her mouth falls open and he laughs again, pulling her arm across the table and kissing her knuckles once more. Too late, she wants to scream, you don’t need an hour. She pulls her bottom lip between her lip, artificial bubblegum bursting across her tongue. His lips on her skin is too much; too much and not enough all at the same time. How is that even possible?

She doesn’t need to ask herself the question again. No, this isn’t normal. Nothing about how she feels right now is normal. Not the way she wants to wrap her arms around Kai, not the way she feels like she knows him already, and especially not how she’s dreading leaving this town when normally she wants to run as far away from it as possible. The most not-normal thing about it all, though, is the way she wants to tell him each and every one of those things. She wants to grab his face, run her fingers through his gorgeous hair, and tell him everything she’s feeling right now.

But she can’t so instead she whispers, “what if I make you fall in love first, Malachai?”

Kai squeezes her hand tighter, his legs tangling with hers under the booth. His lips part, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips. Her heart hammers in her chest as she watches, ridiculously jealous at the notion of not getting to taste him in the same way. Her body floods with heat when his eyes twinkle, a response dancing on the very same, traitorous tongue, but before he can answer their waiter arrives, setting down a large pizza and turning to face her. He has blonde hair and an easy smile, one that would send most girls reeling. Matt Donovan. She remembers him from high school; he was a good kid but they never really ran in the same social circles. She doesn’t regret not knowing him, his group is part of the reason she left this town.

“Alright, one pizza. Is there anything else I can get for you,” he smiles at her and her heart doesn’t hammer anymore, it slows.

She tightens her fingers around Kai’s, her voice less melodic than moments ago, “no, this is great thank you.”

Matt nods, stalling a moment and smiling at her. She can feel Kai tense, his legs stilling against her own. Her eyes dart between the two and she catches the way his eyes narrow at the blonde, his head tilting as if calculating what he should do. His chocolate scent increases, if that’s even possible, wrapping around her like a blanket as he sits up straighter. Matt doesn’t even look at him, his eyes focussed on her and her alone.

“You sure I can’t get you anything else?”

She nods but before she can speak Kai answers, his voice clipped but a smile on his lips regardless, “actually,” his eyes lower to the nametag on Matt’s chest, “Matt, we’d love a box.”

Matt’s eyebrows scrunch and she giggles, a tad confused but deeply invested in the cruel twang to Kai’s voice. She meets his eyes, pulling her lip once more between her teeth and swallowing her heart that has crawled it’s way into her throat. Something about the way he’s holding himself- the way he taunts the boy she went to school with only a few years ago- makes her feel alive. Who would have thought that the bubblegum princess would get such a thrill from watching the devil go head to head with the boy next door?

“A box?” she has to stifle another giggle, not wanting to appear rude despite how much joy she’s feeling.

Kai nods, “please, and the check. We really should get going now.”

Her heart thrums, wondering what on earth he’s up to. She doesn’t care. It’s starting to become a recurring theme with this boy; how little she cares about anything but being in his presence. Each second that passes she falls deeper into something she can’t explain. Her heart jumps when Kai’s eyes meet hers, his smile softening from the malicious grin that he had been aiming at Matt. She shakes her head lightly, nudging his foot under the table and rubbing her calf against his.

“Alrighty,” Matt grumbles, “I’ll get that for you right now.”

She watches as he walks away, turning back to the man across from her with a grin on her glossy lips, “how am I supposed to fall in love with you when you don’t even feed me?”

He laughs, tugging her hand to his mouth. She’s starting to think that her hand belongs there, pressed against his lips for eternity. Every time his lips swipe across her knuckles she swoons, sparks tingling up her arm. If his lips feel this good against her hand then they must feel even better- no, nevermind that.

“You can eat in the car,” he suggests, his eyes searching hers as he draws another knuckle to his mouth and nipping lightly with his teeth.

The feeling of his teeth scraping against her skin sends her reeling, a shiver racing up her spine as she registers his words. In the car. She presses her lips together. What does that mean?

“Malachai?”

“Let me drive you back to school.”

Hour Three

Kai watches her steal the last piece of pizza and laughs, tossing the box into the back of his truck and pulling her closer on the bench seat. She tangles her fingers through his free hand and his heart explodes in his chest. His eyes lock on the road again but his thoughts are stuck on the beautiful girl beside him whose hands are wrapped around his arm. She clings to him, her bubblegum and cherry and just plain irresistible scent invading his senses. She leans her head against his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his jacket, and he forgets that she hasn’t been in his life more than three hours.

They’ve been driving for an hour, laughing and talking as the sun set. She’s told him about her major, about the books she reads and her parents. She’s spouted all the lines of her favourite movies and listed her favourite cities in order even though she’s only been to a couple. He, in turn, has told her about his favourite song. He told her about the time he broke his leg and how he isn’t usually like this. How he’s never like this. She agreed with that, taking the opportunity to tell him how focussed she usually is. He didn’t mind when she spoke over him. Had it been anyone else he would have but he could listen to her talk for ages. She makes hours feel like minutes- like seconds- and every sign they pass he gets more and more desperate. He doesn’t want to leave her. He wants more of the minute-like hours.

“What’s your favourite color,” she mumbles, running her nose over his arm.

He’s never understood why people care about favourite colors. It’s just so trivial, the answer always changing, that it’s never made sense to him. Is it possible to have a favourite color? He doesn’t think so. For some reason though, when she asks him and her voice goes high at the end of the question- as if she’s truly dying to know his favourite color- his heart stammers, not wanting to mess up the answer. He glances at her, his eyes finding her bubblegum cherry lips. Maybe he has a favourite color after all.

“Red,” Kai responds, running his thumb over her wrist and smiling when she shivers against him, “my favourite color is red.”

She hums appreciatively, her voice bouncing around the cab of his truck, “I like red too. It’s not my favourite though.”

Her fingers untangle from his, her hand landing on his thigh, using him for balance as she tucks her legs underneath her. Kai sucks in a breath at her touch, a tingle shooting up his spine. Her innocent eyes peer into his, no doubt still thinking about colors without a care in the world. His mind, on the other hand, couldn’t be further away from the color wheel.

“Why’s that,” he forces out, his voice gravelly, “what’s your favourite color?”

“Black,” she answers and for a moment he doesn’t think about her hand still curled around his thigh, “I think I like the color black.”

He scrunches his eyebrows. Black. He wouldn’t have pegged her for a dark colors kind of girl. Every part of her screams light. Goodness. She seems like the type of girl who likes laying in the sun and eating ice cream on hot days and filling the bath with more bubbles than water. No, she doesn’t seem like she is; he knows she is. He doesn’t have to ask her to know that she is the complete opposite of him.

Kai can’t stop himself from asking, “why the color black?”

She moves her hand back to his arm, wrapping both of her arms around his, and he lets out a sigh of relief. Well, relief mixed with frustration. He didn’t want her hand gone, he wanted it higher. He’ll take her wrapped around him though, it’s just as good. It’s better. He can think of a hundred different ways he would like this woman wrapped around him.

She presses her lips to his shoulder and he wishes the stupid jacket would just burn, “because it suits you. I didn’t think I liked it before today but now I think there’s something beautiful about it.”

Kai’s hand finds her thigh, his heart pounding fiercely, “the color?”

She gasps lightly when he squeezes, a sound that hits him straight in the gut. He does it again, this time harder, and she presses her forehead against his shoulder, her soft moan tumbling against him. His hand tightens on the steering wheel at the sound. He has no idea how he managed to get an angel into his truck. How he convinced her that he was good enough to sit this close to her; good enough to hold her in his hands and hear her pleasure.

“The darkness,” she whispers, her voice hitching when his hand slides higher, “I didn’t think I would like the darkness this much.”

He digs his fingers into her jean-clad skin, reveling in her warmth and the way she squeezes her thighs around his hand. He bites his cheek, barely containing his own moans. She’s not even touching him and yet the sound of her voice alone has him so close. His eyes read the next sign, sucking in a harsh breath. Ten more minutes and she’ll be out of his truck.

Kai looks over at her- perhaps for what will be one of the last times- forcing a sharp smile to his lips, “this darkness is nothing, princess.” His voice is hoarse, his words soft but pained, “it’s just a glimpse. I don’t think you would like the real thing as much.”

He watches as her eyes widen, her mouth falling open a touch. Exactly, he thinks to himself, now you’re starting to get it. He clenches his jaw, going to move his hand from her heavenly thigh when she stops him, her hands closing around his wrist. His shoulders- among other things- tense as she drags his fingers to settle directly between her legs, using her hand to guide his motions and arching into his touch. Holy fucking shit.

“Princess what-” Kai tries to process his thoughts clearly but he can’t; the heat seeping from her and her fingers pushing his to rub against her are much too demanding for him to form a coherent sentence.

The sign for her university comes into focus as he rubs his fingers harder against her. A soundtrack of her moans fills the cab of his truck, her hands wrapping like a vice against his arm as she presses her face once more against his shoulder. He curses, breathing in her sugary aroma, his chest flooding with heat. All he can think about is how he has to park this damn car before he crashes and doesn’t get to experience more of the exquisite creature next to him. She rolls her head back onto the seat, spreading her legs further for him, her hands never leaving his arm.

“Just try me, Malachai.”

Hour Four

She moans as Kai’s hands find the button of her jeans, the tires of his truck screeching as he finally pulls into her dorm’s parking lot. As soon as he shifts the gears into park she’s on him, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pulling his lips to her own. God, she was right, he tastes chocolate and mint gum. He groans into her mouth, one of his hands finding her hip and pulling her onto his lap while the other goes to her neck, pushing her lips against his. She presses against him, rocking against the hard bulge in his jeans and gasping against his mouth.

“Malachai,” she murmurs, her hands sliding through his silky hair, “I need you.”

He wraps his arms around her back, pressing his chest against hers and backing her into the steering wheel. Her heart thunders when his lips meet her jaw, nipping at her skin before sliding back to her lips and pulling her bottom lip between his teeth.

“Fuck,” her body lights up at the throaty tone of his voice, “are you sure, princess?”

She nods, the words lodging in her throat as Kai’s lips trace to her neck, his tongue flattening against her pulse point. She’s sure alright. She’s never been more sure of anything. She wraps her hands around his back, clawing at his shoulders and mewling at his skilled lips. She tugs at his jacket, trying her best to convey her need for the material to disappear. The girl is rarely speechless but right now, when she needs her voice the most, it’s as if it’s nowhere to be seen.

“Off, please get it off,” she finally murmurs against his lips, her hands splayed hard against his jaw as he shrugs the jacket off, “I need to feel you.”

Kai’s fingers curl around the hem of her shirt, sliding underneath and around her back, his fingers digging into her spine deliciously. She rocks higher on his lap, her lips finding his throat and sucking his warm skin into her mouth. She runs her tongue against the hollow of his throat, smiling when he bucks his hips against her. Tingles shoot through her as he brushes against her and she lets loose another moan into his skin.

“More,” she fumbles, seeing stars behind her eyelids, “I need more. I need all of you, right now. Please.”

She doesn’t even know what she’s saying; she just knows if he doesn’t make love to her soon she’s going to literally combust. She slides her hands down Kai’s chest, her fingers slipping beneath his shirt and glimpsing at his hard muscles. Her fingers explore slightly and she reels when he tenses under her, a breathy moan of his own joining hers.

He crushes her against him, his head falling against the seat, “angel, I will do whatever the fuck you want me to but not in my truck.” His hand slides to her ass, squeezing so hard her core clenches, his name slipping from her lips, “I am not about to let just anyone watch me fuck you into next week. That’s mine and mine alone.”

She can hear exactly what he means; you’re mine and mine alone. It sends another wave of heat coursing over her, her core clenching again, harder, and she nods furiously against his neck, “my room. Now!”

He laughs, pulling his keys from the ignition and opening the door. She giggles with him, sliding out of the truck and all but dragging him with her. He kicks the door shut, his arms wrapped around her stomach and his face buried in the side of her neck. She squeals gleefully when he lifts her, her back pressed against his chest as he kisses the side of her neck and spins her around. The cold air nips at her stomach, exposed from where her shirt rides up.

“Malachai,” she whines, her hand sliding behind her and into his hair, tugging a tad harshly, “please hurry, baby.”

“You’re no fun, angel,” he murmurs against her skin but sets her down nonetheless.

She wraps her hands around his arm, tugging him to jog after her, her giggles spilling into the night, no doubt waking up some of the other students as she leads him through the campus. She doesn’t care, she hasn’t felt this free in ages. He laughs with her and the sound of his joy exhilarates her, lighting her whole being up with a dangerous kind of fire. It weighs down her limbs, pooling in her stomach and soaking her jeans. His hand links with hers, his fingers squeezing hers as her body tingles. She’s so close to her dorm she can taste it- taste him and everything he’s going to do to her- and she hurries quicker.

She tugs him around a corner and he stops abruptly. Her heart jumps in her throat, wondering for a moment if he’s changed his mind. When she turns to look at him, though, his dark eyes pour over her, his lip pulled between his teeth. He looks like he wants to take her right here on the stoop of a dorm that isn’t her own. She squeezes her thighs, trying to ignore the part of her that reels at the thought.

“Kai-”

He pushes her against the brick of her dorm building, his mouth slamming against hers, his tongue slipping between her lips, “Malachai, princess. That’s my name. Say it.”

She moans at his soft and stern tone, grinding her hips against his the best she can, “Malachai, I need you.”

He nods against her lips, his hands wrapping around her hips and pulling her up his body. She wraps her legs around him, sighing when he pushes her harder into the wall with his hips, pressing his hard length against her covered core and moaning into her mouth. His scent consumes her, lingering in her chest when he pulls back, his eyes consumed by darkness. Her heart thunders when his nostrils flare, her thighs clenching around him at the sight of his flushed cheeks.

“What room number,” he pants, grinding his hips and sending another relentless wave of heat racing through her.

She presses her mouth against his, her tongue lapping at his minty lips, “I’m in 102.” She tugs his bottom lip, pulling a heated groan from his chest, “it’s just a few doors down. Please, Malachai.”

She kisses down the side of his throat as Kai searches for her room, running her nose along his warm skin and sinking as far into his arms as possible. She tugs the key out of her bag when he slows, leaning away from him to unlock the door before turning the knob and all but falling into her room. She giggles as they stumble, pushing the door shut quickly and throwing her keys to the floor. No need for those anymore.

He tosses her on her bed and she can’t help but giggle at the feeling of her plush blanket, knowing soon it will be brushing her bare back as he slides into her. He makes quick work of her heels, pulling them off and tossing them to the side. She winces when she hears them clunk somewhere in her room- that loud sound better not have been one of them breaking, Kai- but is soon distracted when he kicks his own boots off, kneeling on the bed and crawling towards her. The bed sinks at his knees and her body thrums in anticipation.

As soon as he’s within arms reach she grabs him, her fingers twisting in his t-shirt as she hauls his body over hers. Well, she tells herself that she’s the one who brings him closer. In reality it’s he who complies, letting her command him in whichever way she so pleases. He leans down, finding her mouth and kissing her hard, lowering some of his weight onto her. She moans, pressing back against him and wishing that his clothes would just vanish already, their mutual affinity for jeans starting to become a problem.

“Angel, fuck,” he murmurs as her hands slide once more under his shirt and he grabs her fingers, pulling her wrists above her head, “I need permission right now before we keep going. Yes; I fuck you. No; we cuddle. I am more than fine with both options.” One of his hands slides down her belly and wraps around her hips, fire flaring everywhere he touches, “what’ll it be, princess?”

He hovers over her, his gray eyes soft on hers. For the first time tonight she can see them clearly and her breath hitches, an unexpected wave of emotion flooding her chest at the way he’s looking at her. All that talk about darkness and he’s anything but. She yanks her arms from his hand, instead loosely hanging them around his neck. She arches her chest as close to him as she can, feeling each layer of clothes between them in agonizing detail.

“As wonderful as cuddles sound,” she tangles her legs around his hips, pulling his hardness back to her heat, “I really need you to fuck me.”

A wicked grin settles over Kai’s face, his lips drawing to her ear and pulling the lobe between his teeth, tugging hard, his words sending shivers through her body, “then I think it’s high time these clothes go, don’t you?”

She nods, her voice choosing once more to vanish at the most inopportune moment. He pulls her onto her knees, his lips brushing her jaw softly as his hands find the hem of her shirt for the last time, dragging it slowly up her stomach and over her chest before finally discarding it next to the bed. His fingertips draw over her skin lightly, his pinkies grazing the valley of her breasts and his thumbs smoothing over her collarbones. Even the slightest touch makes her clench, knowing he’ll soon be putting those fingers to good work.

She thanks the heavens for a moment that she thought to put on a nice bra, her body flushing with heat when Kai sucks in a breath at the blue lace barely concealing her peaked nipples. His hands circle her waist, his thumbs trailing fire over her soft skin. He darts his tongue out again against his bottom lip, watching her breasts rise and fall with her breaths like a starved man. If a look could ever make someone come on the spot it would be this one. She takes a sharp breath, her chest swelling, the cups of her bra stretching, and his eyes darken.

“Fucking hell, you really are an angel, aren’t you?” he slides his hands up her ribcage, over the flimsy material covering her and flicking her hard nipples, his mouth falling open in a half smile at her breathy sounds, “my angel.”

She gasps, her eyes as wide as saucers, and Kai smiles, fully, his eyes flitting to hers as he does it again, watching her face as his fingers lazily sweep back and forth over her buds. Each brush of his fingers sends a jolt of electricity straight to her core, her body tensing at each pinch. Her hands jut out, grabbing onto his shoulders as to not fall over from the sensation. She squeezes her thighs, rubbing her jean clad legs together in her best attempt to quell the raging fire but it’s useless. Only he can put it out and he knows it, chuckling- a sound like ice cream melting on a hot day; slow and sweet- at her sweet agony before finally slipping behind her back, his fingers finding the clasp of her bra.

“Perhaps I should leave this on, hmm?” Kai teases and she whines, arching her back into his hand. “Watch the way you bounce,” he leans down, his mouth capturing one of her nipples through the lace, his tongue hot and wet against her, “the way the lace pulls.” His teeth find the edge of the cup gently, careful not to ruin it as he drags it over her chest. She jolts when his lips graze her nipple directly, a small taste of his electricity, “what do you think angel?”

As soon as her breast is free from the lace she digs her fingers through his hair, desperately pushing his face back to her chest, “please take it off.”

He laughs, his hot breath fanning her bud as his fingers pull at the hooks behind her back, finally releasing her from the suddenly constricting material. She hears it hit the floor but she doesn’t watch where it lands, her eyes locked on Kai’s as he lowers his mouth back to her nipple, his other palm sliding up her ribs to tease her other breast. His hair tickles her skin as he flicks his tongue over her, his fingers imitating the same sensation, twisting and flicking her peaked bud in time to the laps of his mouth. Her stomach twists, her core dripping from the stimulation.

“Malachai,” she pleads, her fingers tugging at his hair, trying to find his eyes desperately, “please more. I need more.”

Kai tugs her nipple between his teeth, biting harshly and pulling a small hum of pleasure from her lips as waves of heat attack her body, “patience, angel.” He runs his tongue over her burning bud, soothing her skin once more, “I want you to feel everything. I want you to remember it- me.” He kisses across her chest, pressing his lips gently against her sternum, “every kiss-” he bites at her breast, sucking her skin roughly into his mouth, sending another jolt through her core, “every bite.” His hands drag down her stomach, lazily drawing circles as he teases the waistband of her jeans, “I want you to think about me in every class, I want my name to be the only thing you can say when you go to answer a question. That will take patience-” he kisses her stomach, his tongue dipping against her bellybutton and his fingers grazing the lace under her jeans, “but I think maybe these can go.”

She moans her agreement, the sound tearing from her throat as she nods, most likely once a coherent thought but now just a mess of want- of need. Kai quickly pops the button of her jeans, his fingers digging into the waistband and yanking, tugging her pants down in a way that very much goes against his wish for slow. She lifts her hips from the bed, helping him as much as she can to get the damn pants off. He chuckles as she writhes, each gentle laugh zeroing in on her now barely covered core and sparking little fires across her clit. The sound of the material finally pooling on her floor is like music to her ears but her eyebrows furrow when she looks at him, still completely clothed.

She sits up on her elbows, biting her lip, “come here,” she coos, her voice breathy and her chest heaving, “please, Malachai. C’mere,” she sighs when he complies, her fingers twisting his shirt when he settles between her thighs, “this should have come off ages ago.”

She clenches her bare thighs around his own jean covered legs, mewling as the rough material scratches deliciously at her skin.

“Of course, angel,” his nose skims over her neck as she pulls the material from his body, his voice low and teasing, her fingers gliding over the hard dips of his abdomen, “where are my manners.”

She hums happily- a kitten purring from some much needed attention- as he pushes her back, his sculpted stomach now fully on display for her viewing pleasure as the soft blanket tickles her bare skin. His attention is now focused on the matching, blue lace that is not even trying to conceal her core. Kai slides off her bed, kneeling beside her, and her mind races, her heart thumping hard in her chest. What are you-

Her thoughts are interrupted when his hands dig into her hips, tugging her so that her legs dangle off the bed. He spreads her thighs, his eyes latched on hers as he leans down, kissing the inside of her thigh much too lightly. Her fingers dig into the comforter as he pulls her legs over his now bare shoulders, his hot skin soothing her aching muscles. He plants another gentle kiss on her other thigh and she almost screams- do something Kai, do anything, please- her breath ragged as she watches his lips crawl closer to the soaked lace. She digs her heels against his back, hoping to spur him closer to her.

He runs his nose along the lace, straight down her clit and she gasps, the sensation like lava flowing through her veins, “Kai!”

He flicks his head up, squeezing her hips harder, “what did I already say about that, angel,” he kisses under her belly button, purposefully avoiding her throbbing nub, “what’s my name?”

His gray eyes are wild, filled with a hunger that makes her clench around her emptiness.

She digs her heels harder against him as his teeth tug at the lace, his name a delicious moan on her tongue, “Malachai.”

“Very good,” he praises, “you’re so good for me, baby.”

She moans again as he strikes gold, no response to the name other than pure lust filling her body. His hands tug at her panties, finally pulling the last article of clothing- if a piece of sheer lace even counts as clothing- from her body, exposing her pulsing clit to the cool air of her room. He sucks in a breath, leaning down to blow warm air against her, spreading her legs even further. She throbs, watching as he finally lowers his mouth, his tongue licking a stripe directly to her core and planting stars behind her eyes.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans, more to himself than her, his muscled arms wrapping around her thighs and crushing her to him, “I was right you taste like fucking candy. So damn sweet.”

He dives back against her, his hot tongue flicking her bud back and forth. Waves of white fire pour through her, compressing together in the pit of her stomach. Her fingers dig into the sheets, tugging at the plush comforter because she knows if she runs her fingers through Kai’s hair she might just rip it out. Her back arches, her breasts greeting the air as Kai’s tongue swipes straight to her core again, dipping into her heat before going back to her clit sucking hard.

He moves one of his hands between her legs, his fingertips lazily circling her entrance as he continues to devour her, “so wet for me, baby. From the moment I first touched you,” he muses, his eyes finding hers over the arch of her sternum and swell of her breasts, “it’s like you knew I was coming.”

“Maybe I did,” she pants, squeezing her thighs around the man buried between her legs, letting out a strangled gasp when he sinks one of his fingers into her, “maybe ever since I locked eyes on you-” another gasp, this time from him pushing a second finger in and curling them both- “I’ve wondered how I’m going to forget you.”

He curls his fingers faster at her words, sucking that much harder on her nub. His eyes stay latched on hers, dark and determined. The ball of fire grows dangerously as his fingers brush over a spot- the spot- and she groans, her hand finding his hair. She doesn’t care anymore, tugging harshly on his silky hair and pushing his face as close to her as she can, grinding against his lips as her whole body starts to tingle. It’s like someone replaced her veins with fluorescents and Kai’s tongue is the outlet.

“Well maybe,” Kai curls his fingers and her body jolts, teetering on the sweet edge of nothingness, “baby,” his voice is just this side of taunting, his tongue finding a tortuous rhythm, “I don’t want you to forget me.”

He curls his fingers one more time and she falls- quite possibly in more than one way- over the edge, an earth shattering orgasm tearing through her entire body, “fuck, Malachai!”

Her body trembles in his arms, his fingers still twisting inside her, his mouth still latched to her, sucking and licking until she comes down from her high. She sinks back into her comforter, entirely spent and limbs heavy, his name still a moan on her lips. Her heat throbs, clenching and unclenching as she watches him stand. Maybe she isn’t so tired after all. She pushes her heels into her bed, crawling back towards her pillows as his hands find his belt, making quick work of the leather. He doesn’t bother pulling it from the loops, he just hooks his fingers in his jeans, his taut muscles heaving as he shoves his clothes off in one steady push.

She moans as her eyes land on everything he’s been keeping from her, her mouth watering at the sight of his thick, hard shaft bouncing slightly against his abs. She sinks back against her pillows, her toes curling at the thought of him- what was it Kai said? Oh, right- fucking her into next week. She stretches her arm out, her eyes lidded in anticipation and her nipples peaking once more, and curls her fingers at him. Come here, she almost screams, come burn yourself into my very being. She’s doing her best to remain composed but her skin is flushed, the feeling of his lips still fresh on her body, and her core aches to be filled with something more than his fingers.

He kneels on the bed once more, his lips tilted and his eyes dark, and he crawls back to her body. He grabs her thighs when he reaches her, pushing her knees to her chest and baring her core him, stretching her muscles deliciously. She grabs his shoulders, digging her fingers into his warm skin and tugging him to hover over her, her legs pressed between them. His shaft presses against her still sensitive clit and she hisses, giggling slightly from the stimulation.

“Angel,” Kai murmurs, his lips pressing against hers as he rocks his hips against her, his tip teasing her entrance, “fuck, just tell me you don’t want to forget me.” He pushes in a few inches and she gasps, cooing at the way he’s already stretching her walls, “tell me you’re mine-” he pushes further, his eyes locking on hers and making her core tighten, her fingers digging harder into his skin. “Tell me you’re mine even if you’re lying.”

He pushes all the way into her, his thighs pressed against hers and his hand shoved into the pillows beside her head, keeping him from falling against her. She feels the most full she’s ever felt, her heat pulsing as he gives her a moment to adjust. She can feel each breath he takes, each slight bump of his hips as he holds himself back, each twitch inside her like he’s a lit match and her body is a temple about to be burned to the ground. She shifts against him and a line of fire zings straight from her bellybutton, a tremor of pleasure shocking her heart. Burn me, please, she chants in her head.

“How could I forget about you?” She breathes, her mouth falling open when he slowly pulls back, only to snap his hips back into hers, driving himself deeper than the first time, “why would I- ah,” Kai presses his chest against her knees, pushing her further into the mattress and leaning on his forearms, circling his hips and stealing the air from her lungs, “I’m yours, Malachai.” She resigns, her train of thought long gone, “all yours.”

“Absolutely right, baby,” he growls, pulling out of her again and slamming back into her as soon as the words are out of her mouth, “mine.”

His hand grabs her knee, pulling her legs apart to wrap around him as he settles into a faster pace. She wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers anchoring in his hair and tugging his lips to hers. She squeezes her thighs around his hips, her toes curling from his bruising pace, whining when he almost pulls all the way out of her once again before thrusting back. She arches her spine, her chest bouncing against his as he circles her arm around her back, pulling her flush against him.

She drags a hand down Kai’s back, her nails digging against his skin and drawing a sinful moan from him. His lips latch on to her jaw as he thrusts harder into her, his arm sliding behind her neck and holding her closer, “fuck, you’re so tight-”

He lifts to his knees, bringing her with him and shifting the angle of his thrusts, his shaft brushing the same spot from before. She lets go of his shoulders, falling back into her pillows to grip her fuzzy sheets for dear life. She can feel the fire from before start building again, only this time hotter, and she rocks back against him, doing her best to match his pace but it’s impossible. He has her legs around his waist still, her bottom half clean off the mattress as he pounds her top half into the pillows; there is nothing for her to do but let the pleasure wash over her.

Kai pulls her leg further up his chest, hanging it from his shoulder as he smirks, tugging his lip between his teeth, “if only you could see how pretty you look princess, all stretched out for me.” She clenches at his words, the ball of fire pulsing dangerously, and he tightens his hand on her thigh, his eyes going dark, “do you like it when I praise you baby?” His voice is throaty and she can feel him twitch, just as close to coming undone as she is, and her walls clamp around him harder this time, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“More,” she begs, screwing her eyes shut and letting the sound of his voice push her closer to the cliff, “tell me more. Please!”

He sucks in a sharp breath, his hips slamming impossibly harder against hers, brushing that magical spot relentlessly. His fingers slide down her leg, dragging through her folds to find her throbbing nub, circling his fingers lightly and drawing a strangled scream from her lips.

“And what should I tell you, hmm?” He presses harder against her clit, his fingers picking up the pace to keep time with his increasingly sloppier thrusts, “should I tell you that you look exquisite wrapped around my cock?” She moans, his words making white flash behind her eyes, her core squeezing and sending the first taste of her second orgasm spiraling through her, “that I can’t wait to flip you over in a minute and make you cum again,” her legs jerk, the second wave so much more intense than the first, so much more earth shattering, “and again,” he pushes into her one last time, throwing them both over the edge, “and again, angel.”

Her whole body splinters when he empties himself into her, meeting her release with his with a shuddered breath. She can’t even scream his name- god, she certainly tries though- the white, hot pleasure coursing through her veins, stirring a new life into her bones, only allows her to whisper it. Mouth it over and over again as he collapses against her sticky chest. Fuck, Malachai. He pulls out of her and she hisses, swallowing the last wave of electricity as she stretches her bones, delighting in the careful pop of her joints.

“Fuck,” Kai rolls onto his back, his eyes shut and his mouth wide open, “that was-” he props himself up on his elbow, his eyes now open and swimming over her face, “that was just wow, baby. Fucking wow.”

She giggles breathlessly, her legs jelly as she turns to him, reaching her arms out. Her body still craves him, her skin aching to press against his in a way she’s never experienced. He wastes no time scooping her up, wrapping an arm behind her knees and pooling her on his chest. His other hand glides up her spine, his fingers pressing hungrily into her flesh. Her thighs slip around his hips as she sinks against his chest, her face finding the crook of his neck. His hands work at the kinks in her shoulders and she shivers, her body starting to light up again.

“Fucking wow,” she agrees as she presses her lips against his throat, squeezing her thighs as his fingers draw lower again, swiping over the dip at the base of her spine as she murmurs a soft, “you don’t have to leave yet, do you?”

Kai’s body tenses under hers and her heart stutters, her chest stinging- oh, maybe he does.

“If you do though that’s okay,” she rushes out quickly, pushing her hands against his chest to put some distance between the two of them, “I don’t want to keep you if you, uh, have places to be, I guess-”

He tightens his arms around hers, sitting up quickly, keeping her in his arms as he does so, “I have nowhere to be but here.” He presses his lips against hers and she sighs, reveling in his slightly salty taste, “nowhere I want to be but here, princess”

She nods, brushing her nose against his, “okay.”

Her fingers tangle through his matted hair and he sighs, leaning down to brush her back. Okay. It’s not what she wants to say- something more along the lines of please never leave- but she can settle for it for now. She shifts to straddle his thighs better, pressing her chest against him and sighing at the growing electricity. Round three it is. When she kisses him back she can swear she tastes a hint of her bubblegum gloss on his lips.

“Okay,” he agrees.

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cocoswriting · 4 years ago

Note

lee wilbur, ler techno? maybe smth where wilbur’s being chaotic so techno takes him down a peg? you dont have to tho— /gen

Chaotic Mf

Summary; Basically what the ask says; Wilbur was being chaotic/creepy and needed to be taken down a peg. [PLATONIC. DO NOT TAG AS SHIP.]

Warning(s); This is a tickle fic! If you don’t like that kind of stuff, then I recommend you just scroll past.

“You put ecosystems in jars?..”

“Yeah,” Wilbur responded casually, laying upside-down on the couch opposite Techno. He had his legs curled over the back of the couch and his head was dangling off the edge—it was a wonder how he hadn’t gotten uncomfortable enough to shift positions yet. Wilbur seemed to have a strange habit of never sitting correctly when he was in one of his “chaotic” moods, always finding some weird way to rest instead. “I go out and collect mud, rocks, soil, and I put them inside the jar.” he explained, and Techno scrunched up his face both in confusion and mild disgust.

“And... this is a normal thing?” Techno asked disbelievingly, flipping a page in the book he had in his hands, though it wasn’t as if he was paying much attention to the text anymore. Wilbur nodded happily from across the room, grinning as he opened his mouth to continue explaining, only to get cut off by Techno. “Wil, I don’t really care. I’m tryn’ to read right now.”

Wilbur huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, pouting in fake dismay and staring at Techno almost expectantly, even though the piglin was very clearly no longer looking at him. “Well, you should care,” the brunet replied with a sassy tone of voice, sounding akin to an annoyed child. “I swear I’m not the only one who does this! Ranboo does it too, or at least he did...”

“Ranboo did that—?... No, Wilbur, really, just talk about literally anythin’ else. I do not care about your jar ecosystems,” Techno was already used to dealing with Wilbur’s chaotic moods. They’d come in at random times, last a couple hours, and then eventually he’d lose all the excess energy he had and go back to “normal.” So it wasn’t as if he actually expected Wil to stop when he was told to—Techno knew he wouldn’t—but he figured he might as well try to change the topic that Wilbur would ramble on about. Honestly, Techno just wanted to read his book. “Can’t you bother someone else? It isn’t that late, Phil and Tommy are still up.”

Wilbur let out a loud, dramatic sigh followed by a shake of his head and a couple tutting sounds. “You’re no fun,” his tone was playful, indicative of the grin that was on his face, despite his words suggesting otherwise. “But fine! I’ll talk about something else.” Wilbur rolled himself over on the couch, sitting upright and then standing up to make his way over to the man sitting across from him. Techno tore his eyes away from the book and glanced up when he realised Wilbur had approached, raising an eyebrow and glaring half-heartedly at the musician.

“What?” Techno’s voice sounded tired, more tired than usual, but bore no real malice as he impatiently awaited Wilbur’s response.

“Have you ever seen Doctor Who?”

“Oh my god,” Techno looked down and rubbed his temples, dropping the book beside him and running one of his hands through his hair, groaning loudly. He heard Wilbur’s shrill laugh at his reaction, which was shortly followed by the sound of shuffling as he sat down next to the piglin and crossed his legs, seemingly prepping himself to start telling whatever story he wanted to tell Techno about. “Please.”

“I already told Phil about this one,” Wilbur began, biting back another laugh at Techno’s long sigh which came straight after. “So, there are these things called ‘weeping angels—!” Wil was quickly cut off by a rough jab to his side. He managed to force back any verbal reactions he might have given to the sudden electric tingly feeling that spread all throughout his side, but he couldn’t conceal the very obvious flinch and curling of his lips.

“You good?” Techno asked, having removed his hands from his face to shoot his brother a concerned glance. Wilbur felt heat rush to his face, but he couldn’t tell whether he’d paled, or gone red. “Did you...” He shifted closer to the brunet, cocking his head to one side. “You flinched,” The elder stated quite obviously, expression a mixture of curiosity and interest.

“You caught me off-guard,” Wilbur quickly stammered out, a sheepish half-smile spreading over his face. Techno frowned—and it was clear from just that gesture that he wasn’t buying it.

Techno placed one hand on his side and left it there, unmoving. Wilbur didn’t flinch that time, but he wanted to, his flustered state having raised his hypersensitivity to the point where he wanted to squirm even just imagining that Techno might find out. “I was just tryin’ to shut you up, you needa’ tell me what happened or I’ll assume that you’re hurt,” Techno said, beginning to slowly rub two(2) fingers in small circles on Wilbur’s side. The last part of his sentence came off as more of a threat to his brother—he didn’t want to worry Techno, but at the same time, getting found out like this would be so embarrassing.

“I-I’m not—“ Wilbur was cut off by a quiet gasp, but not quiet enough for Techno to let slip. One of Techno’s ears twitched at the sound and he made a gruff huffing noise, now reaching down to tug up the hem of his brother’s sweater, exposing the bottom half of his side. “Hey, I’m not hurt, okAY—!” Techno, being the oblivious bastard he was, began to rub gentle circles on Wilbur’s bare side, which elicited a comical noise sounding like a mix between a squeal and a yelp from the man. As Wil managed to squirm away from the tingles, butterflies erupted in his belly when he thought; there’s no getting out of this now.

Silence filled the room for a couple seconds, the gears turning in Techno’s head before it finally clicked, and he couldn’t help the smug expression that formed on his face when he realised what Wilbur had been trying to hide. “You’re ticklish,” he emphasised the ‘T-word’, causing Wilbur’s face to heat up even more, and the fact that Techno’s hand still remained hovering just ever-so-slightly above his side, was not helping. “How come I didn’t know this before? You keepin’ secrets from me, hm?” Techno shoved both of his hands up Wilbur’s shirt and gently ran his nails up and down his skin, eliciting a few snickers along with squeaks and he tried to muffle his giggles.

Wilbur frantically shook his head ‘no’ and looked down, his hair falling in front of his face and (thankfully) hiding his bright pink cheeks. Tingles and shockwaves of tickly sensations shot up his sides, the feeling only increasing the longer Techno’s fingers lingered in the same spot. “Well— you’re definitely much quieter now,” Techno remarked, and Wilbur opened his mouth to give a sassy response, only for a loud squeak to come out instead as the gliding nails began to gently scratch at each side of his back. He arched forward but shifted backwards, resting his back against the armrest and laying down. Wil had hoped this would quell the sensations at least a little, but it only made them worse, the little scratches becoming rougher as Techno’s fingers got trapped. “This seems like a good way to take you down a peg whenever you’re in one of your ‘chaotic’ moods.”

“N-no—hohahahaa!” As Techno moved his hands up to Wilbur’s ribs, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. High-pitched giggles flooded from Wilbur’s lips as he wriggled and squirmed, throwing his head back as his hands switched between trying to protect the targeted spots and trying to push Techno away. It wasn’t exactly working out for him, and eventually he just curled up, hoping to drown out the tickles somehow. It only got worse once he felt Techno begin to drill his thumbs into the spaces between each of the bones. “NOHO! DOHohon’t dohoho thahahat, plehehehahase!”

As Techno gazed down at the giggling boy, he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t melt at the sight of his bright, carefree smile. “Why not?~” His tone of voice was still deadpan, but it had a sing-songy edge to it this time. If Wilbur had the guts to muster up insults at the time, he would’ve called him every name in the book just as revenge for the horrible teases. “Does it tickle too much? Surely you can’t be that ticklish, right?~” Every time the T-word was mentioned Wilbur felt the pit in his stomach fill with more butterflies, and his blush began to slowly spread out to his neck and ears. “It’s your own fault for bein’ annoyin’.”

“Ihihihi wahahasn’t beheheing ahahannoying!” Wilbur insisted, his giggles slowly increasing as Techno’s fingers danced their way up his ribs, heading for his armpits. But before they could reach the spot, he instinctively slammed his arms down to protect himself, blocking the offending hands just in time. It seemed that Techno took this defensive action as provoking, because his immediate response to that was to sigh disappointedly and start skittering around Wil’s neck and shoulders, causing him to scrunch up like a turtle and begin to wriggle side-to-side in a weak attempt at escaping the tickles. “Nohohoho! Fuhuhuahahack ohohoff— yohohou’re sohoho mehehehehahan!”

“Mean? This isn’t mean,” Wilbur could hardly make out Techno’s words anymore, considering he was much more focused on the shocks of tickles and his own embarrassment. But once he heard those words leave his brother’s lips, he couldn’t help but start squirming even harder on top of squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t process what the words meant in his state—but he’s heard that tone before. And that tone means ‘you fucked up’. “You wanna see mean?” Techno asked rhetorically and Wilbur began frantically shaking his head, letting out giggly little “nononono”s as he tensed, prepping himself for the inevitable attack that would come next.

“AAAHAA!” Wilbur shrieked as he felt Techno’s lips make contact with his tummy, quickly followed by an explosion of tickles as he blew a raspberry, shaking his head during it to make it even worse. Wil bucked, cackled and squealed, only for his hips to get held down and mercilessly drilled into by two(2) of Techno’s fingers. All of his nerves felt like they were on fire, and he felt everything—every last pinch to his hips, every raspberry that was blown, and it was almost too much for him to handle. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t loving it. “NAHAHAHAAA! TEHEHEHAHAHAHA—!”

Even after Techno ceased the raspberries, he still seemed fully intent on being as merciless as possible. He continued to drill right into the dip of Wilbur’s hipbone, using his other hand to rapidly squeeze his tummy, never letting up and never slowing down. Wilbur had completely given up on trying to fight back, his arms were too tired for that now and he knew it was no use, so instead he began using his hands to cover his bright pink face with. “Oh, poor Wilbur,” Techno began, a very obviously feigned sympathetic tone in his voice. “Being tickled is just such a hard job.”

“SHUHUAHAHAT UHUHUHUP!” Wilbur forced out through his hysterics, helplessly rolling his torso back and forth, attempting to focus his attention on literally anything else other than the tickles he was receiving. He couldn’t decide if he loved or hated it—it was unbearable and maddening, he felt like he was being driven up a wall, but at the same time he had to admit that he was having fun. He was soaking up all the attention like a sponge. It didn’t take much longer before his laughter became wheezy and strained, though, and he’d decided he had enough. “O-OHOHOKAHAY! STOHOHAHAHAHAP, THAHAHAHAT’S ENOHOHOHOUGH—!”

Techno listened straight away, ceasing the tickles and backing away as Wilbur curled in on himself, hugging his midsection while trying to rid of the after-tingles that still remained. “You alright?.. was it too much?” Techno asked, reaching over to deliver a couple, comforting pats to Wilbur’s head. He would’ve leaned away if it weren’t for how exhausted he was from all his laughter. “...sorry,”

“N-noho, noho... it,” Wilbur knew he should be careful with his choice of words there. He didn’t want to give away how much he’d actually enjoyed himself, but at the same time, he was well aware he’d likely given that fact away while being tickled. He supposed there was no point in lying—especially if it would risk making Techno worry over nothing. “...wahas nice.”

There was no response for a couple seconds, but then the silence was interrupted by a snort coming from Techno, and Wilbur instantly knew what he would have found amusing. But as Techno gently ran his fingers through his hair, practically soothing Wilbur to sleep, he found he didn’t care as much as he did before.

They should do this again sometime.

#mcyt #dsmp #tickle #tickling #tickle fic #fic #ticklish!wilbur #lee!wilbur #ler!techno #ler!technoblade #requests

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nct-lian · 4 years ago

Text

people who have a crush on lian (outside of the group)

ERIC SOHN, THE BOYZ

duration: april 2020 — present

he actually developed a crush on her after he had watched the music video to her pre-release single, “stay tonight.” he thought she looked SO good and went on to talk about how much he loved that kind of concept on her for weeks on end.

eric obviously knew about her prior to his discovery of the song, having a member that’s been great friends with her for about a year.

he thinks that if kevin would stop hogging lian and actually let her interact with more of the members, he’d be able to “win her over” but according to kevin, she’s his best friend and his best friend only.

do fans know?: yes

fans of both the boyz and nct figured out that eric had a little bit of a crush on her after watching the english line’s episode of the k-pop daebak show with eric nam.

it was the section of which eric nam was reading out all the questions jacob, kevin and eric had sent in for each other, and one of kevin’s questions for eric was, “do you have a crush on my best friend?”

eric nam widened his eyes, “you have a best friend that he has a crush on?” he asked kevin, who was trying not to laugh hysterically at the question that had resurfaced. “he might,” kevin nodded.

“jacob, do you know who he’s talking about?” jacob nodded and suppressed his giggle by lifting the pillow he was hugging tightly to his chest and covering his face with it.

eric held a look on his face that screamed, “i’ve been personally victimized” as he shot his head back and forth between kevin and the other two older men in the room.

“i don’t have a crush on your best friend.. well- you know- like- maybe a celebrity crush.”

kevin cackled, “she’s not a celebrity-” eric nam laughed at that and shrugged his shoulders when eric turned to him for some help. “i don’t even know who’s he’s talking about, don’t look at me!”

“to you!” eric shot back at kevin, implying that he obviously wasn’t going to see her as a celebrity, given their best friend status.

jacob let him himself laugh, “eric, it’s okay, you make it so obvious sometimes.” he reassured his younger member.

eric stuttered over his words and kept shaking his head. “it’s a celebrity crush. no real feelings.” he stated.

the man across from him, again, shrugged his shoulders in confusion. “i still don’t know who we’re talking about?”

kevin apologized and clapped his hands together, “she’s actually schedules to come on this show.” he smiled and threw him a thumbs up. “is she really? oh, i think i know who it is, then.” eric nam made a face and looked at kevin and jacob, who both matched his expression.

then they all looked at eric, “why are you guys looking at me like that? okay, next question.” he smiled in attempt to change the topic. eric obeyed, feeling bad that they were sort of teasing him, while the two others just laughed.

current status: acquaintances (they met through kevin moon)

( FIRST MEETING ) lian had been waiting at the door of kevin’s dormitory for a minute too long, and no matter how many times she knocked, nobody would answer. they were supposed to be going on a walk in order to catch up before their weekly schedules.

lian pulled out her phone and called kevin through facetime, him answering almost immediately. “kevin, why aren’t you answering? i’ve been knocking nonstop.”

he rolled his eyes and told her to just come in and that he’ll be a minute because he can’t find any shoes that look good with his outfit.

she hung up on him and walked inside, greeted with the sight of the boyz’s maknae on the couch. she stopped in her tracks and watched as he scrambled to his feet in panic. “s-sunbaenim, what are you doing here?” eric scratched the back of his neck.

“huh? oh! i’m just waiting for kevin to finish getting ready.” she smiled politely and looked at everything but him, finding the interior of their dorm rather interesting at that moment.

getting uncomfortable with the awkward atmosphere her and eric had created, she yelled out for kevin to hurry up. “moon hyungseo!” she called him by his korean name, knowing that he didn’t like it.

“don’t you dare call me that, bae haneul!” he shot back at her, stumbling out of his room while trying to put on his left shoe.

she chuckled, “hah, jokes on you, i actually like my korean name.” he stuck his tongue out at her, “okay idiot, let’s just go.”

he opened the door for her so she could walk out first, “uhh, bye eric.” lian waved at him with a tight smile before exiting the dorm, kevin following after her.

eric waited for the door to close before he returned her goodbye, giggling like a little schoolboy who’d just received a lolipop.

“she knows my name.” a bright smile replaced the awkward frown on his face.

crush percentage out of 100: 60%

BANG CHAN, STRAY KIDS

duration: unknown — present

chan can remember keeping up with smrookies while he was still a trainee, and he developed some sort of jealousy towards lian. he saw her grow as a person, not just an artist.

he watched her debut first, he watched her transition from red velvet into nct, he watched her achieve his dreams before he could.

this jealousy overtime somehow turned into feelings, and he had no idea what kind of feelings they exactly were.

he hadn’t ever really experienced feelings like this before, and he was terrified to admit what he thought they were. eventually, chan opened up to someone and it was clear that he had a bit of a crush on her — and a big one.

chan began to update himself on smrookies daily, constantly wanting to know what she was up to and what her debut plans were, especially because of the sudden group change.

even now that they’re great friends, he’s always calling her to see what’s going on and if she needs help with anything.

do fans know?: definitely

no doubt do stays know about his feelings — he was bound to slip up once or twice while live streaming to them.

and that slip up just so happened to be while he was reacting to lian’s “play” music video. everything was going fine — bopping his head to the beat and humming calmly, but he couldn’t stop the blush from spreading onto his cheeks while watching her dance with another guy.

yeah, he was jealous, but that doesn’t mean stays had to know. he hysterically fanned his face, somewhat over exaggerating to play it off. “oh- woah- is the ac not working in here suddenly?” he playfully laughed at the camera facing him.

the song soon ended, and chan was back to reading all of the comments. he read some aloud, some in his head, but he accidentally let one slip through his lips.

“do you have a crush on neullie?” he nearly cursed when he realized the question he had just read to the entire live stream said what it said, allowing himself to sit back in his chair as he watched all the comments flood in.

“well, do you?” “CHAN OMFG-” “christopher bang..”

“guys, come on, of course i don’t.” the viewers definitely wanted to believe him; like, a lot, but they couldn’t.

the way he smiles whenever she was brought up in a conversation, how he looks so incredibly proud when talking about her — it would be a complete lie to believe otherwise.

current status: good friends

( FIRST MEETING ) changed out of the sparkly, sequinned dress she’d been wearing for the last couple of hours and now sitting in a pair of sweats and a zip up, lian couldn’t be happier.

finally out of the uncomfortably tall heels and being able to sit down on a cushy sofa while waiting to leave the venue, lian pulled out her phone to check notifications.

five minutes probably passed before her manager gave her the “okay” to start walking to the exit, the car already waiting for her outside.

leaving the dressing room, she saw taeyong, who decided to tag along with the driver (and taeil) so he could see her. “hey, oppa.” she greeted, grabbing onto his arm and leaning on his shoulder for support.

“did you have fun? were you able to see sunmi-sunbaenim today?” he patted her hand slowly. she nodded and made a noise in confirmation, way too tired to give an audible response.

taeyong chuckled as he made sure to keep her upright while getting closer to the exit.

meanwhile, bang chan was talking with felix a couple feet away. he felt bad watching as taeyong struggled to help lian balance herself on her, for sure, wobbly legs.

he saw how terrific she danced that night, completely dominating the stage with her powerful choreography and her clear vocals.

subtly walking in their direction, he put his hand out the minute taeyong’s arm wasn’t able to hold her up anymore. lian looked like she was sleeping at that point.

chan gracefully caught her in his arms, taeyong apologizing and taking her back into his own. “i’m so sorry-” he bowed.

“no, no, it’s okay. she must be tired- uh- would you like some help?” chan offered a helping hand, but taeyong was sure he had other duties to attend to, being the leader of his group and all.

“no! please, i got it from here. thank you for catching her, though, you have no idea what yuta would have done to me if something happened- uh, i’m getting ahead of myself. have a good night.” he noticed how he began rambling on, but chan paid no mind to it.

laughing and keeping the air light, chan nodded his head and bowed, about to walk away after wishing him a safe trip back to the dorms; but that was when lian decided to wake up from her slumber.

“huh?” she looked at taeyong cluelessly, but chan caught her eye. it was then that she noticed johnny’s grey zip up was halfway down her arms, spaghetti strapped tank top (pretty revealing) on full display.

she hastily pulled the sleeves up and looked at chan awkwardly, bowing to him and proceeding to ask taeyong if they were going home.

taeyong nodded his head and put a hand on her shoulder, “yeah, the car is waiting outside. taeil’s in the backseat with your pillow.” he smiled.

lian’s smiled back with a toothy grin, clapping her hands excitedly as she now knew she would be able to sleep on the way home. again realizing chan was watching, she looked back to him.

“it was nice meeting you!” lian waved her hand at him, grabbing onto taeyong’s arm and gently dragging him towards the door leading outside. he complied, but not without shouting yet another “thank you!” to chan, who was still standing in the same spot.

crush percentage out of 100: 90%

CHOI SOOBIN, TOMORROW X TOGETHER

duration: october 2018 — present

soobin was really able to learn more about the different variety of idols in the industry when he first joined bighit, and that surely included lian. he admired her so much; she became one of the people he looked up to most.

she was the only female member in a group that included eighteen other men, how could he not immediately think the highest of her after finding that out?

he would keep up with her scheduling and make sure to listen in on her radio show appearances so he could stay updated. he even bought all of her solo albums so he could put her photocard in the back of his phone case!

do fans know?: yes

moas aren’t even able to count on their fingers the amount of times soobin has said lian was his ideal type or his #1 crush. like, the first couple appearances he had on camera post debut, her photocard was literally still in his phone case.

“moas are asking if you still have a crush on lian-sunbaenim.” yeonjun nodded his head towards soobin, the members of txt all sitting comfortably on the floor of a practice room.

soobin lightly brushed his hair out of his face as he nodded his head, “yeah, she’s gotten even prettier lately. have you see her new music video?” beomgyu nodded excitedly.

“it’s super good! the album is amazing, as well.” he beamed at the phone that was filming them and clapped his hands.

“yah, don’t get too excited; soobinnie will get jealous~” yeonjun teased. soobin playfully hit his hyung on the shoulder and told him to be less embarrassing, a small blush now resting on his dimpled cheeks.

hueningkai and taehyun both laughed at their leader, agreeing that lian has certainly gotten prettier, if that was even possible. the topic was soon over as they began talking about something else, but moas definitely added that into their list of “soobin fanboying over lian” moments.

look forward to the fifteen million new youtube videos about it!

current status: acquaintances, idol x fan

( FIRST MEETING ) soobin almost jumped straight out of his seat when he noticed the goddess herself, lian, walk into the section him and his group were currently in. he watched her bow to the members of itzy before sitting next to them and placing a fluffy blanket onto her lap.

she had just finished performing, and he was still shaking at how perfect it was played out; the sparkly outfits, the amazing choreography, her powerful vocals yet again never disappointed.

the curfew for underage idols now being hit, soobin and yeonjun both bid goodbye to their younger members as lian, yeji and lia did the same for ryujin, chaeryeong and yuna.

the three girls sitting in front of their section soon ran out of things to talk about while waiting for bts to perform their stage, a comforting silence falling upon them. lian allowed her eyes to wonder around her surroundings and ended up unconsciously turning around and staring right at the two members of txt that were left.

yeonjun seemed to have paid no mind to her lingering gaze, but soobin on the other hand could have sworn his heart dropped out of his ass at that very moment. lian, now shaken out of her thoughts, noticed how creepy she probably looked.

bowing in apology, she quickly turned around to talk with lia once again in order to distract herself from the embarrassment that was currently enveloping her whole.

once he knew lian was too invested in her conversation to notice his quiet squeal, he excitedly began bouncing his legs up and down on the cold floor and repeatedly hit yeonjun’s arm.

“huh, what? what’s wrong?” confusion took over his face, wondering why soobin was practically having a heart attack next to him.

“hyung- she looked at me! right at my face! lianna bae looked at me!” yeonjun couldn’t help but scoff at how incredibly excited soobin seemed to be at such a little thing, but it was cute.

crush percentage out of 100: 78%

KIM TAEHYUNG, BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

duration: somewhere in 2019 — present

taehyung has seen lian here and there whenever he browsed twitter on his secret account, and he’s definitely noticed the constant shipping and dating rumours that went on between their fandoms.

the fanwars, the manips — they’ve all been seen by him at some point in time; but he has to admit that from the manips he’s been able to get a good look at, him and lian would actually make a pretty nice looking couple.

but you didn’t hear that from him tf :)

do fans know?: kind of

the calming beat of lian’s “my friend” played in the background of taehyung’s vlive, the viewers all watching him eat peacefully and answer some of their questions.

“are you a fan of lian?” taehyung slowly read out the question as he tried to slurp some of his soup up at the same time. “yes, i like her music a lot..” he trailed off, once again focusing on finishing his soup.

he ate his last spoonful shortly after, continuing his sentence, “i noticed she likes to experiment a lot.. it’s admirable.” he smiled fondly and switched to another song on his playlist after “my friend” ended.

“uh, she’s also really pretty; she fits my ideal type well.” he allowed himself to giggle, somewhat playing it off so the atmosphere on the stream stayed comfortable.

the topic of lian never reappeared that night, fortunately for him, but when he was chaotically woken up the next morning by jungkook, he saw at least five headlines about how he admitted to having a crush on lian.

current status: friends (?)

( FIRST MEETING ) venturing off and losing his members during isac was never taehyung’s intention, but he was able to see some of his friends, so it wasn’t exactly a bad thing. he met a few idols and befriended them, trading phone numbers with a couple new people before heading off to regroup with his six roommates.

on his way there, however, a girl with green sweatpants and a white long sleeved t-shirt caught his eye. he recognized her as nct’s only female member, who was currently running around with seulgi of red velvet.

if he was being completely honest with himself, he’d love to join in on the fun they looked like they were having, but he instead continued on with his journey towards bts. even after a couple minutes of searching around the large stadium he was still unable to find his members.

eventually giving up on his mission, he just decided to back to wherever he last saw some entertainment. he found himself now engaged in a conversation with johnny suh, looking back at lian every now and then to see if she’s gone anywhere.

after a little while, johnny seemed to have caught on, “why are you staring at lian?” taehyung jumped at the question, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly and turning to fully look at the older male beside him.

“uh, i can ask her to come over here if you want. i’ll be a wingman,” johnny winked playfully at the fellow idol, and went over to grab lian before taehyung was able to give a solid answer.

“hey, lian, taeyong wants to talk to you.” he grabbed her hand, and began to drag her towards the bts member, who was literally shitting his pants. seulgi on the other hand, was following the two to wherever lian needed to be, not quite ready to leave.

“noona, go away.” johnny lightly pushed seulgi away from lian, being a shot an “i’m incredibly offended, you’re dead to me” look as as she stomped away from them and over to joy and wendy.

lian silently followed johnny to where “taeyong” was but instead she was met with the face of kim taehyung. she looked back up at johnny with confusion written all over her features, but he shrugged his shoulders and walked away as well.

now, they were just standing there awkwardly looking at each other with nothing to say. “uh, hi, you’re not taeyong.” lian laughed to break the ice, taehyung following shortly after. “yeah, i don’t know what he was trying to do here.” lian nodded in agreement.

lian suddenly became aware of all the fans in the audience and the numerous amounts of fansites that probably had their cameras facing directly at her.

she was able to wrap up her conversation with taehyung pretty quickly, making a mental note in her head of the phone number he’d given her so they could talk later.

once taehyung walked away as he’d finally caught sight of yoongi, lian stomped over to the member of nct 127 and roughly pushed johnny into jungwoo, but he was far too strong to be toppled over like she wanted.

“you idiot, why would you do that? that was so awkward, i hate you and i’m not cooking for you ever again.” johnny simply laughed and ruffled her hair, turning back to hyuck, who was also laughing at her.

she huffed as she was engulfed into a hug by yuta, who almost immediately asked what the hell they were talking about over there.

crush percentage out of 100: 40%

#lian: relationships #nct addition #nct female member #nct 127 #nct #nct dream #wayv #kim taehyung #bang chan #lianna bae #choi soobin #eric sohn #nct 127 added member #nct 127 female member #nct dream added member #nct dream female member #nct 22nd member #nct 24th member

117 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 3 years ago

Text

ssw | embry call; he looks down. she looks up.

NOTES:

I preface with the following.. I am not a medical professional. I have never had any kind of amnesia, temporary or otherwise. So.. yeah. Anyway.. the tldr here is this idea came to me and it’s weird and i didn’t know what to think of it at first but honestly, having written it out now I kind of like it? And I think it’s gonna be a short series... kinda? Allow me to elaborate.. normally, for the ssw prompts I use like 3 or four six word sentences as ideas / parts of the oneshot, etc but with this one, I think I’m going to use one for each part because I did that with this one and I like the way it came out? Since I had four other equally good prompts chosen for the doc I started with him, I’m just gonna use the rest of those to kinda continue this? To an extent?

Anyway, enough rambling.

PROMPTS:

Taken from [ here ] or [ here ].

Inspiration / prompt used here was He looks down. She looks up.

FANDOM/CHARACTER:

Twilight / Embry Call x Imprint!OC, Merisa.

WARNING:

Amnesia tw. Injuries mentioned very vaguely. Beyond that, I guess mutual pining / a kinda slow burn and mentions of a jerk soon to be ex boyfriend.. Embry and this original character are both adults, approx 23-24 years in age just in case anyone’s wondering...

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee

OTHER STUFF:

[ faq | request rules | sfw masterlist | tag list doc ]

The last thing I remember is hitting a water pocket. My head bouncing off the steering wheel. The sound of metal groaning and glass shattering before everything went totally black.

And now, upon awakening, everything is foggy... At first,I can’t remember my name, where I was going or where I came from. I can’t even remember what day or year it is.

When I really started to come to, everything hurt. From the roots of my hair all the way to the tips of my toes. I grimaced as I pulled myself up in bed. My stomach was growling. My eyes darted around the unfamiliar room and the scent of bacon frying only worsened the pronounced hunger I was feeling.

“Where am I?” I muttered to myself as I gingerly made an attempt to slip out of bed. But the second my bare feet connected with aged and cold wooden floorboards, the mild pain I’d been feeling only intensified. When the door to the room creaked open quietly, I was just getting back into bed.

The man standing in the doorway didn’t spark a shred of recognition. God do I wish he did because I like to think that if I even have a type, he has to be it. He kind of looks like a man you’d find gracing the cover of the cheap erotica I read.

At the realization that I’d just remembered something, even if it was something insignificant, I was laughing softly at myself and shaking my head about it. I took a deep breath.

“Uh.. hi.” I muttered finally, just to break the silence and the sudden thickening of the air around us.

He hadn’t broken his gaze or made a step into the room. When I spoke up, he jumped a little as if I’d startled him. My brow raised and I tried again. “Do I know you?”

“Not likely. Not well, I mean...” the guy answered after a second or two of hesitation.

I blew at a strand of hair fallen down in my eye. Dragged my fingers through my hair as I mulled it over. “Okay, let’s try this… How did I get here?”

“How much do you remember?” he questioned, not taking his eyes off of me. Avoiding the question I’d asked. I swallowed hard and really tried to think. Trying to grasp at anything, any shred of a memory.

I remembered the sound of metal groaning. Glass shattering. The icy chill of water as it lapped at my feet. Feeling like I was about to die at any second. My brows knit in frustration and the guy was at my side in seconds. Sitting hesitantly on the bed near me. Close but not close enough for my liking somehow.

I pouted about it for a second or two and pushed it to the side, taking a deep breath. “I was in a wreck, wasn’t I?”

“Mhm. You almost died, actually.”

“I thought so. Okay, now it’s your turn.. Where am I?”

“You’re in La Push.”

The words stirred little bits. Fragments of memory. An older woman with a kind but aging face. The smell of bourbon and a man with long black hair shouting at another woman. Stepping forward like he was going to shove her at any second. A little girl crouched out of sight behind furniture until the older woman picked her up and carried her out. And I knew without knowing somehow that the little girl was me.

I grimaced. Both in confusion and irritation that I couldn’t remember more. Because whatever I’d just recalled felt like it happened a lifetime ago and not recently.

How old was I?

“You remembered something, huh?” he asked, studying me quietly. A look of concern on his face.

“I think… But it doesn’t answer anything I’m wondering at the moment.” I sighed and took a deep breath. Asked another question after a few seconds that seemed to drag on forever. “What’s your name?”

“Embry.”

Another random trivial memory surfaced. The woman was there again. Introducing me to a group of boys who were all dirty from playing in the mud. I strained to focus. Honing in on the fact that she introduced me to the group as her granddaughter. My name was Merisa.

I cheered a little in triumph, forgetting for just the briefest of moments that I was literally a breathing ball of pain at the moment when I shot up off the bed to pump my fist in the air. Embry’s hand caught on my hips and he managed to keep me from crashing to the floor.

He smiled. A smile so bright that it seemed to bring light to the dullness of the room we were in. A smile, I found myself thinking, I’d give anything to see again.

“Easy. Whoa. The doctor said you’ve got some pretty gnarly injuries.” Embry scolded as he looked down at me in concern.

I nodded. Excited when I opened my mouth and started to babble about remembering my name. Remembering my grandmother and possibly growing up here in town. And on the heels of the happy came the sad.

A casket. A graveside service with gray clouds overhead and a fine mist of rain. Feeling numb and empty. Angry for some reason. This had me frowning. Shaking my head sadly.

“She’s dead.” I muttered the words. Deflated. Numb all over again.

Embry watched me like I was a landmine waiting to be triggered, his brow raising as if something I’d remembered was wrong but he didn’t dare tell me so. Sitting up like he was on high alert. Like he wanted to move closer. To attempt to offer comfort. But he didn’t dare.

A tear rolled down my cheek. I raised my hand and stopped it midway. Taking a few shaky breaths. The night of the accident came flooding back, the gaps filling themselves in as it did. I’d been crying when I left my mom’s funeral. Trying to call my grandmother. But I remembered that she was at a tribal meeting and she didn’t keep her phone turned on during tribal meetings. I must have taken my eyes off the road for a second, tops. The car hit a water pocket and went off the road. Hitting trees and flipping over a time or two before settling at the bottom of a steep hill. Next to water. Someone was pulling me out of my car. I recognized in an instant that Embry had been the one to pull me out. I remembered that he volunteered with fire and rescue.

I went quiet as I finished telling him what I was remembering. Wiping at my eyes.

And then it hit me. I didn’t really know Embry well but I did know of him aside from the fact that he pretty much saved my life the night of my accident... He was also the quiet kid down the street. One of the boys my grandma introduced me to that day.

“I do know you, actually.” I smiled at him softly, wiping at my eyes. I don’t know why, but I just didn’t mention that I knew he saved my life.

“Yeah, but not well. Kind of why I figured you’d have a meltdown when your grandma asked me to sit with you while she was out.” Embry muttered quietly. Leaning in just a little. His hand raised. A thumb rolling over my cheek as he wiped away another tear. Our eyes met and my breath caught in my throat.

“So we’re at my grandma’s. My old room.” I looked around at the room again and it felt right. From the books piled on my desk, an erotic novel turned face up and open where I’d left off reading to the posters tacked up on the wall. A contrast to my apartment I realized as soon as I started to remember the fact that I lived in Seattle.

I racked my brain trying to remember whether anyone there would be worried or missing me. I felt like there was someone waiting back there, but at the same time, I felt like maybe being here was better than being there.

Like whoever it was that might be waiting was someone I wanted to get away from.

“Greg called.” Embry spoke up after a second or two. He dragged his hand through long black hair as he held my gaze. A slightly irritated look on his face at even mentioning the guys name. “He wanted me to make sure I didn’t forget to tell you.” Embry chuckled at this, going quiet again.

When he said the name Greg, the mental image flooded my mind and my previous thought about someone waiting in Seattle proved correct. Greg was my boyfriend and honestly, he was a bit of an asshole. Uptight and moody. A bit on the controlling side under the guise of ‘this is for your own good’. I immediately started to remember a huge fight we had because apparently, he wasn’t happy about me coming back to the reservation for my mom’s funeral. Leaving him. But he refused to come along with me because to quote him “It’s not my type of thing.” and “I’m not good at emotional stuff, Mer.”

I grumbled and shrugged. “I’m not in the mood to talk to that bag of dicks.” I muttered, brushing it off. More concerned with my own current situation than I was with calling Greg to check in. It wasn’t as if he’d magically care enough to come anyway, he hadn’t come back with me for my mom’s funeral. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth because I remembered several instances in a rush. All of them were me, giving up something I wanted because Greg insisted on it.

,, Christ, why am I even with this mega asshole? I mean.. My grandma lives next to the literal embodiment of sex...” the thought had me perplexed because I didn’t remember enough to really pinpoint a good reason. Something told me that may or may not be a blessing in disguise. From the little I was able to recall about Embry, I found myself wondering why I wasn’t with him or someone like him instead.

Seattle must have changed me a lot. And apparently, not for the better. Why had I even left La Push to begin with?

And then I remembered.. My mom met another guy and we wound up moving to a military base in Seattle. And we moved around so much that I never really got to spend much time with my grandma because we were too far away to make the trip back and too broke to afford it. So leaving La Push hadn’t ever been my choice.

“Yeah, he seemed like an asshole.” Embry muttered, his gaze settling on his legs. The tension between us was so thick I almost couldn’t breathe. My breath actually caught in my throat for a second or two and desperately, I tried to come up with something to say. Anything.

“I smelled food…” I muttered quietly. Looking down just as he looked up after I’d said it. He chuckled. “I was wondering when you were going to get around to mentioning you’re hungry. Your stomach’s been growling for a while now.”

My cheeks heated up and I bit my lip, nodding. Embry stood and eyed me for a few seconds. “Do you think you can make it?”

“I don’t know..” just the thought of even trying to stand again given my amount of pain had me tensing a little. Quickly and gracefully, Embry grabbed hold of me, scooping me into strong arms. Carrying me down the hallway and into the dining room. He sat me down in a chair and made his way into the kitchen.

He came back out a few minutes later with a plate full of food. I eyed it hungrily and he sat down, taking a sip from a glass of orange juice. I dug into my food and more than a few times, I felt the weight of his stare. At one point, it prompted me to look up and meet his gaze, both of us laughing.

“What?” I asked, swallowing the bite I’d just taken.

“You act like you haven’t eaten in years.” Embry replied, giving me a teasing smirk as he spoke.

“I haven’t eaten anything this tasty.” I replied, wiping at my mouth because I felt syrup on the corner. “Sorry, this is good. So good.” I groaned through another big bite. Promptly almost choking.

With a chuckle, Embry reached over, patting me between the shoulders until I stopped coughing and when our eyes met again, he teased quietly, “Can you stop trying to die on me?”

I gulped. Getting lost in his eyes and almost not managing the nod I gave in response. “Yeah.” I muttered quietly. That tension I felt before only grew thicker. Mostly to ease it and try to keep a conversation going, I took a slice of bacon and held it out to him. “C’mon. Eat a little. I feel bad, sitting here pigging out and you’re not eating.”

He eyed me and took the bacon. Biting into it as he answered, “I ate earlier.” and shrugged it off.

The door to the house opened and my grandmother stepped inside. Dropping everything to rush over and give me a tight hug. I hugged back just as tight. “Ouch yikes.. Grandma…” I muttered. She laughed sheepishly, pulling away. Looking at me and wincing as if she felt my pain.

“At least you’re alive.” she mused. “You can stay here while you heal. I’d rather you stay here while you heal.”

I nodded, happy to agree to it. If I were to go back to Seattle, I didn’t see Greg being much help at all. Besides, I thought to myself, La Push is home. I never wanted to leave to start with.

Embry was silently making his way towards the door and my grandmother stopped him. “Thank you for sticking around today, Embry.”

“It’s not a problem. If you need me, I’m right down the road.” he answered, giving my grandmother a smile. As he said it, we locked eyes all over again. I shuffled my feet. But I didn’t look down or away. I was getting lost in his eyes all over again.

Almost as soon as the door was closed behind him, my grandmother turned her attention to me. Lecturing me about my choice in men. Filling me in on the fact that apparently my ‘lover’ couldn’t be bothered to come and see that I was safe or even alive but damned if he wasn’t calling every ten minutes demanding me to call him back. Irritated because my grandmother apparently told him at one point if he wanted to talk to me so badly, he knew where I could be found. “He’s a bum.”

I sighed and nodded. Dropping my gaze to the glass of orange juice in front of me. “I know. I wish I could remember what the hell made me choose him…”

My grandmother eyed me in concern. After going through a long list of questions, noting the ones I had trouble recalling easily for my follow up with the hospital, she sighed. “At least you remember enough. And you’re still with me. If I lost you that night…” she paused.

I got the feeling that she wasn’t good at emotional things either. But unlike Greg, she did manage to show she cared in her own way.

“But you didn’t. I’m going to be alright.” I reassured her and she nodded. When the phone rang, we shared a look at let it keep ringing.

“If you want to talk to him, Merisa..”

“I think I’d rather focus on myself and healing for a change. Getting my whole memory back. I get the feeling if I talk to him, it’s only going to stress me out.” I admitted after a long pause.

The phone went silent.

My grandma cleared away the dishes and found the crutches that the doctor had given me to use in the aid of getting around. Then she went over all the things the doctor told her about my injuries and the healing process.

“What about my memory?” I asked, curious. Anxious to know what I might be up against. Grateful that I remembered the most basic things about myself that I kind of needed to know.

“The doctor thought you might have some memory loss. I believe he said it would be short term because of the side of your brain the injury occurred in? With a little time and patience you’ll be fine.” my grandmother slipped an arm around me and then added in a more thoughtful tone, “Maybe the parts you don’t remember clearly are a blessing, yeah?”

I eyed her, considering what she said. She might not be entirely wrong…

“Embry’s always been a kind young man. Quiet. Respectful.” my grandmother mused after a few seconds of quiet. I gave a soft laugh and muttered, “Yeah. He seemed like a good guy.”

I won’t bother lying.. I hope I see more of Embry while I’m staying here at my grandmother’s… Something tells me I definitely will...

#embry call #embry call x oc fanfiction #embry call imagine #embry call fanfiction #embry call x oc imagine #embry call imagines #embry call fanfic #embry call x oc fanfic #my writing ; embry call #my fanfiction ; embry call #my oneshots ; embry call #my fics ; embry call #my imagines ; embry call #// amnesia tw #// vague injuries tw #// embry is an adult here fyi.#// pt 1 of 4?5?#// i haven't quite decided yet. i do know i yearn to write fluffy filth for this somehow

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oh-ranpo · 4 years ago

Text

‘tis the season.

pairing: reggie x reader

an: so, I had the idea for this, and while it isn’t very long, I hope you guys like it! I’m just going to tag @n0wornever and @mamakitty187 since they responded to my post about it encouraging it to happen, so here it is! I hope you enjoy!

word count: 1.9k+

If you took one look around the city of Los Angeles, you would have no idea that it was nearing Christmas time. Sure, the city had their decorations up, but when you looked to the people, there was not an ounce of festive spirit to be found. You had no idea why everyone else was so hesitant to start spreading Christmas cheer, but you had been looking forward to celebrating practically since Halloween was over. You had refrained and made yourself wait until the first day of December to break out your favorite Christmas sweater, though it had taken everything in you to stay so patient. You thought that maybe other people might be feeling the spirit now that it was officially December, however, the second you stepped onto the bus that first morning to head to the mall, you realized that you had severely overestimated just how much everyone else loved the December holiday.

A few people gave you strange looks as you walked up the steps in your bright green holiday sweater, the front of which was covered in colorful tinsel and fake ornaments. It was your favorite sweater that you owned, and you had been quite proud of it when you put it on that morning. Now, you weren’t so sure that it had been the right choice. Everyone else was dressed in their nice winter coats and muted colors, and here you were, sticking out like a sore thumb on a public bus where people would be able to judge you for the next thirty minutes of your ride.

You kept your head down as you moved down the aisle towards the back where you had seen an empty seat, but just as you passed the second to last row, you heard a voice that was unmistakably directed at you.

“Hey, I like your sweater!”

You were surprised to hear the compliment from anyone on this particular bus, but when you looked up to find the owner of the voice, you immediately realized why it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. The boy that had just spoken to you was smiling brightly, and it only took a second for you to see that he was also wearing a rather festive looking outfit himself. Only, his sweater was red and green striped with a reindeer on the front of it. When he moved, you could hear the faint jingling from the small bells that decorated the cartoon deer’s antlers, and an involuntary smile immediately spread across your lips.

“Thanks. I really like yours too,” you replied, gesturing slightly at his chest. The boy’s eyes fell down to look at his sweater, even though he was well aware of what he was wearing, and then he lifted his head again to give you another bright smile.

“Thanks! Did you… did you want to sit?” It was a rather forward question you thought, but there was an empty seat right next to him, and you figured if you were going to make it through this bus ride without too much more embarrassment, you might as well sit with someone who clearly had a mind that worked like yours. So, you nodded, and slid into the seat next to the boy just as he lifted his hand up for you to shake. “I’m Reggie, by the way.”

You looked at his hand for a moment before happily accepting it and giving him your name as well. You felt yourself relax as you settled in next to him, and even though you had felt like everyone was staring at you before, when you took another quick glance around the bus, you were relieved to see that no one was looking in your direction at all. Maybe you had been overreacting just a bit.

“So, where are you heading too?” Reggie asked, as he attempted to keep the conversation going. You felt bad for being so quiet, and when you looked back over at him, you smiled again.

“To the mall. I was trying to get some of my Christmas shopping done early. You know, to beat the really bad crowds.” Reggie’s face lit up as his body turned towards you even more.

“That’s what I’m doing too! Well, to get some things for my friends, anyways. We’re doing our gift exchange a little early, so I want to make sure that I can get them something good.”

The excitement on Reggie’s face was one that directly mirrored yours, and you felt lucky that you had stumbled upon someone with the same enthusiasm for Christmas that you did. In fact, you spent the rest of the bus ride talking about your Christmas plans, and while Reggie constantly brought up his friends, you couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t mention much about his family. You knew better than to press, as he was still a stranger, but you became more and more intrigued as the conversation went on.

You were disappointed when you reached your stop, but when you went to stand up and Reggie did too, you looked at him curiously, and another bright smile formed on his lips.

“Is this your stop too?” you asked, even though you probably should have figured it was. He had said that he was going to the mall, and this was the closest one on your route. It didn’t really make sense for him to stay on to head to one farther away, especially since he had been on the bus longer than you had.

“Yep! It looks like we aren’t getting rid of each other quite yet,” he replied happily, and you felt a stirring in your chest as you stepped into the aisle and made your way towards the front of the bus. You didn’t look to see if people were staring as you walked because now, you weren’t quite as self-conscious about it. With Reggie right behind you, you barely noticed anyone else.

“So, these friends of yours,” you started, as the two of you walked across the parking lot of the mall side by side. “What kinds of things are they into?” You were hoping that his previous comment meant that you weren’t going to be parting just yet, as you had become quite fascinated by the Christmas sweater boy.

“Well, we’re in a band and I know Luke is always in need of journals to write songs in, so I thought I would get him one of those. Alex and Bobby are a little bit harder, but I’m sure I’ll find something. I’ll know it when I see it.”

The fact that he was in a band was something that Reggie hadn’t mentioned yet, and it was something that peaked your interest even more. You loved going to local shows and small venues to see bands perform.

“You’re in a band? Really?” you asked excitedly, and once again, Reggie’s face lit up at the question. You could tell immediately that it was a subject he loved to talk about.

“Yeah! We’re called Sunset Curve. Tell your friends.” He added the last part with a quick finger-guns motion and you couldn’t help but laugh. His band wasn’t one that you could recall seeing, but either way, you loved his enthusiasm, and you were sure that was something that translated into his music.

You talked about the band and his music while you walked around various stores, and you learned that he played bass and while his band wasn’t well known yet, they had several gigs lined up in the near future.

“You should come to one,” he added as color filled his cheeks. You had just stepped out of one of the record stores located near the food court when he said it, and your steps hesitated a bit as you felt the familiar tug in your chest that you had experienced earlier when getting off the bus. You slowly looked up at him, and his eyes fixed on you, his cheeks a light pink at his rather forward suggestion. Not that it was the first one he had proposed that day.

“I’d love to,” you grinned, and relief flooded his features as you then started walking once again.

You had to admit, you liked spending time with Reggie. You had only met him a couple of hours before, but the fact that you got along so well made it seem longer. From an outsider looking in, you might not have guessed that you had just met on a bus on the way to the mall, and instead, you might have looked more like longtime friends doing their holiday shopping together.

“Thank you again, by the way,” you spoke about an hour later as you sat across from each other at a table in the food court. You had both already finished your shopping, so now you were recharging with some greasy mall food. Reggie tilted his head slightly in confusion at your words, encouraging you to explain yourself. “For saying something to me on the bus. Today has been a lot of fun, and I’m glad that I’m not the only one that seems to enjoy Christmas around here.”

Reggie’s expression softened as he smiled.

“Of course! I mean, I always have to appreciate a good sweater. Especially when the person wearing it is so…” His voice trailed off, and his eyes fell away from you as his face went red once more. Your heart jumped in your chest at his words, even though you weren’t sure how he was intending on ending that sentence.

“So… what?” you pressed. “So lost? So embarrassed? So-“

“Beautiful.”

His word caught you off guard, and you were sure that you looked incredibly silly as your mouth fell open slightly. It wasn’t really what you had been expecting, but a warmth spread through you when his eyes hesitantly lifted to meet yours. You didn’t know how to respond, and in the silence, it seemed that Reggie had taken your lack of response negatively.

“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that. I just…when I first saw you, I thought ‘wow’, and I wanted to say something sooner, but I didn’t want to come off creepy. But, it seems like I did that anyways, and I am so, so, so, sorry-”

“Reggie,” you cut in, breaking up his panicked rambling. His mouth immediately clamped shut at the sound of your voice, and his wide eyes locked with yours as he waited for you to continue. “I don’t think it’s creepy at all. I think it’s sweet, actually. I just… as you can imagine, I don’t have a lot of strangers randomly compliment me.”

“I actually can’t imagine that,” Reggie piped in quickly, causing another flutter in your chest. “And I’m not really a stranger anymore either, if you think about it.” He was right, and you couldn’t deny it. You had spent most of the day together at this point, and you had shared quite a bit of your lives with one another, so ‘stranger’ didn’t really fit the description anymore.

You were sure that you looked like quite the pair, sitting together in your bright Christmas attire, chatting over overpriced pizza and smiling like fools. However, even though you had started the day caring what people were thinking about you, when you were in the presence of the boy sitting across from you, you found that it didn’t matter anymore. Reggie was special, and it took you no time at all to realize it. You were especially grateful for ugly Christmas sweaters that day.

#jatp Reggie #Reggie #jatp #jatp story #jatp imagine #jatp one shot #julie and the phantoms imagine #julie and the phantoms one shot #Julie and the phantoms story #jeremy shada

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monaownsmyass · 4 years ago

Text

Peace of Mind

Requested fic by anon. (If you have any fic ideas or requests you'd like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: My Two First Loves

Pairing: Ava Lawrence x MC (Emma Price)

Genre: Fluff but again, make it angsty

Rating: G, none

Word Count: 2,402

A/N: Ava comes out to MC but MC has her own confession to make. This is technically a continuation of my previous Ava fic but can be read as a stand-alone. And, I’m also planning to write another part to conclude this ‘series’ sooo👀

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle @djtjsmith14 @jjlover01 @soft-for-drake @dopeyouth @alexroyard @satrinadia @toalltheboysididntlove @mypegasifly @samanthadalton @playallthechoices @queensayeed (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics and if you only want to be tagged for certain pairings.)

'Can I talk to you?'

I read the message over and over again for the past hour, cracking my head, trying to figure out what on earth she meant by that.

Did I do something wrong? Did I forget something? Was it personal? Or was it school-related? Maybe something happened?

All I knew was that that sentence was the most stress and anxiety-inducing text I could've ever receive.

And here I was, getting it from my best friend.

'Of course,' I replied almost an hour later even though I saw it as soon as I got the message.

Instantly, my phone buzzed with Ava's respond.

'I have to do it in person. Can I come over?'

Okay, that didn't help at all.

'Sure, is everything alright?'

'Yeah, I just have to tell you something.'

I swear I could hear my heartbeat drumming in my ear from how fast it was racing.

'Okay...,' I sent back and fell back onto my bed, groaning.

My mind raced with a million possibilities. The curious part of me wished Ava was already here and would just tell me whatever she wanted to. The fear-riddled part of me wanted to run away and avoid Ava.

But I was done with that. I was done running away from my feelings, I was done avoiding the inevitable truth.

And maybe, if Ava wanted to tell me something, I should tell her something back. Something I think she should know. Something I should've told her long ago.

But was I ready?

Just then, I heard a car stop outside. I peered out my window and saw Ava's sedan. I watched her step out and my heart leapt to my throat. It had been a usual occurrence ever since a few month ago and I don't know where it came from but the feeling never left.

Ava always walked as if she owned the place, every stride exuding confidence in a way I could only dream of. It was one of the things I've always admired about here. But today, there was an extra power to each step, as if she was a woman on a mission.

And what that mission was? I would soon find out.

I moved to open my room door to find Ava about to knock on it, which made me jump.

Damn, how did she get here so fast?

"Hi!" she said, clearly startled as well.

"Hey!"

I side-stepped and let her into my room, catching a whiff of her flowery perfume as she passed me, making me lose my bearings for a second.

She awkwardly stood at the foot of the bed as if she was waiting for my approval and I looked at her, confused. She'd normally plop herself right on it as if she were at home because honestly, this might as well be her second home.

"Uh, don't you wanna sit, weirdo?" I asked her and giggled despite the nervousness bubbling in me.

"Oh! Um, yeah, right."

She cautiously took a seat at the edge of the bed and I shook my head at her.

"C'mon, sit properly! You look so uncomfortable," I told her and waved my hand at her to move onto my bed even though it was more for my sake. Seeing her so hesitant and stiff in my room, the place I called my sanctuary, the place I only let people I trust the most into, seeing her like this in my private space I gladly shared with her over the past few years was unnerving.

She chuckled nervously and scooched up to the headboard, resting her back against it with me beside her. She looked on straight ahead and I looked at her. For a moment, it was silent.

Dead silent.

I cleared my throat to break it and asked Ava, "I know you said everything's okay, but is it really?"

She didn't respond, only gulped and took in a deep breath.

"Ava?" I placed a hand on her arm that sent a jolt up my own. Her head shot towards my direction as if she could feel it too.

"Sorry, I'm just really nervous," she breath out, looking at me. "I'm... I'm trying to get my thoughts in order. My mind is all over the place and I want to get this right."

I stared at her intently, my breathing slow and deep, waiting for her say something.

Finally, she spoke.

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while now," she began quietly.

"Something?"

"About myself."

There was a pause between that.

"Okay...," I drew out in anticipation. "What is it?"

"I...," her voice cracked but she cleared her throat before continuing. "I, uh..."

I waited for her as I watched her shut her eyes before exhaling slowly, too nervous to say anything. Then, she opened her eyes and looked right into mine. The intensity and determination in them made me gasp.

"I'm a lesbian."

Her words knocked the air out of my lungs and my eyes widen slightly in realisation.

Did Ava just come out to me?

I felt a deep sense of relief wash over me and I felt strangely... comforted?

I realised she still looking at me, waiting for a respond but all I could get out was, "Oh!

"Oh?"

"Oh."

Ava sighed and began rambling. "I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you earlier, I swear. But I wasn't ready, and I didn't know how you'd take it! Not that I was assuming you'd react badly, but I couldn't be absolutely sure. And if you did react badly, there's no way for me to know for sure that you won't tell your sister or dad."

I was watching her go on and on but my mind was in another place, trying to make sense of it all, what this would mean for Ava, what it would mean for us and our friendship, this strange sensation of excitement within me, it was taking over my thoughts and overwhelming my entire being.

"And if that happened, it could spread to other people and honestly? I'm terrified of what people will think. Of how they'll start treating me. It's scary not knowing what will happen if I so much as do or say the wrong thing in front of someone."

That snapped me out of my reverie.

"Hey, Ava, it's okay," I reassured her and pulled her into a hug. All my senses were overloading with everything Ava but I managed to composed myself. "You know I don't care. And don't worry, I'm not gonna tell anyone."

"Thank you," Ava whispered.

"And you don't have to explain, I understand," I closed my eyes and said the next words softly, carefully. "In more ways than one."

She pulled back and looked at me cautiously. I could feel butterflies in my stomach and I gulped.

"What do you mean?"

Well, this was it.

"I... I think... I might like girls too."

Ava's face went from confusion to shock to relief then to excitement and then... hopefulness? All in the span of a few seconds.

Her eyes shined and in a small voice, she asked, "Really?"

I gave her a slow nod.

She stared at me.

And I at her.

Then, I spoke again.

"But I'm not sure," I admitted. I contemplated telling her the next part but damn it, enough was enough. I said I was done avoiding the truth and I meant it. It was time to own up to it. "The only reason I think I might like girls is 'cuz of this one girl in particular."

"Tell me more about this girl," she challenged and looked me in the eyes.

I knew she knew. Even if she wasn't sure, I knew she had a strong feeling she did.

And in that moment, I also knew I was ready to confirm it.

I gazed back into her brilliant eyes and braced myself to pour my heart, soul and mind to her, all my feelings and thoughts, I was ready to bare everything to Ava even if it left me naked with vulnerability.

I was ready.

"This girl, I learnt so much from her. She's taught me to be confident and to stand up for myself and not let others walk over me. But on days where I couldn't do that, she was always the one who had my back. She's always been there for me and it took me a while, but I realised my feelings for her might go beyond platonic." I paused to gauge her reaction but she remain expressionless. The only way I could tell she was soaking in every word was from the way her eyes focused on mine. Pupils dilated, she clung onto every word I spoke. It made me more anxious but I was glad she was listening.

She deserved to know.

"She's the reason for the smile on my face every day. I see her and suddenly, all my worries are gone and my mind is at ease. She's my comfort and my happiness and my stomach lurches just from the sight of her. She's so beautiful and captivating and when she looks at me, I can't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. These feelings are confusing and messy and uncertain and I've been trying to figure them out for months now. But if there's anything I'm sure about, it's that I like her. I really, really like her. More than I should."

Never breaking eye contact, I reached out to gently touch her hand that was on the sheets between us. Electricity ran through my fingertips and up my arm, leaving goosebumps on my skin. I saw Ava breathing start to deepen but her gaze never wavered.

"And," I added on, feeling my nerves finally get the better of me now.

The moment of truth.

"I think she feels the same about me."

I saw her eyes become glassy as I felt her fingers intertwine with mine.

And she gave me a single nod.

"She does."

I felt a burst of emotions flood through me as a tear trickled down my cheek. The weight on my chest was lifted and I finally got to breathe again. The burden on my shoulders was eased and I felt so light, I was sure I could fly. The thing that was weighing on my mind was gone and I swear I got giddy from the high of being free.

I was free.

Because the wait was over, the truth was out, I didn't have to run anymore.

"You do?" I asked, voice quivering.

"I do!"

That was when I lost it and broke down into sobs, feeling intense bliss take over me.

This time, Ava pulled me into a hug and I immediately buried my face in the crook of her neck, letting myself cry while she tried controlling her own tears as well but I could hear her sniffling.

"I've dreamt of you saying that for so long," she muttered softly into my hair. "It drove me crazy not knowing if I was imagining things or not."

I giggled despite my tears. "Sorry for making you wait."

"I just want to know," Ava spoke as she pulled back to look at my face. "When I told you I love you that day, you knew how I meant it right?"

I slowly nodded, remembering the way those words were spoken. So soft and emotional and vulnerable. It made my breath hitch hearing them. I could sense how genuine and true those words were from her tone and it overwhelmed me.

Ava Lawrence loved me.

"Did you mean it the same way? When you said it back?"

There was hope in her eyes and I felt guilty. I didn't want to lie 'cuz I wasn't even sure myself.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," I looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "I love you, but I'm not sure how I mean it either." I glanced back at her. "But I do like you, Ava. I really like you."

"I can't say it's the exact answer I was hoping for," she gave me a small smile. "But I'll take whatever I can get."

I shook my head. "No, you deserve more than that. You deserve so much more, but I can't promise that to you, at least not yet."

My heart felt heavy reciting my own words but it was true. I didn't want to lead her on in case it wasn't gonna go anywhere even though I was certain it was.

But I just couldn't take the risk and watch her get hurt because of me.

"I need more time, Ava. I need time to figure this out. To figure my feelings out. I don't think I could live with myself if I end up hurting you. Plus, I still have Noah and Mason to think about..."

Even though they were the last things on my mind.

"I'll wait for you," she quickly said.

"Ava, don't."

"Let me, I've waited for you this long already. Might as well go all the way." She took both my hands in hers and said, "We'll figure this out together. You don't have to do this alone."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you trust me?"

"With my heart and soul."

She smiled. "Yes, I'm sure."

She stood up from the bed and made her way out of my room and out of my house with me in tow.

At the porch, she stopped walking and turned around to face me.

"I love you, Em. And no matter what you choose to do and what your feelings come to be, just know that I love you."

She was about to turn back and head to her car when I stopped her.

"I need you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"If you meet someone, don't wait for me. Don't let me stop you."

"But I want to."

"I know you do," I tugged her into me left her a small peck on the cheek, whispering against her skin. "But if you ever decide you don't want to anymore, don't wait. I'll catch up to you."

She held my gaze and slowly gave me a small, hesitant nod. I couldn't promise her my love or time or feelings right now, so I promised her the only thing I knew I could.

"I'll be there."

(More fics!)

#Ava x mc #Ava Lawrence #ava MTFL #MTFL #my two first loves #mtfl choices #choices #choices: stories you play #pb #pixelberry #playchoices #mtfl fanfiction #choices fanfiction #I’m just gonna add my song inspos for my fics in the tags #song inspiration: Do Not Wait by Wallows #thanks for reading!

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writingfromkitchenator · 3 years ago

Text

Agathokakological

Artist: @dmsilvisart

Beta (if applicable): @emmagan

Rating: M

Word count: 13,829

Warnings: Blood, mentions of torture, violence, near death experience (major character), fatal injury, subtle loss of control from spell

Other important tags: Magic, canon divergence, powerful character, love spell, obsession, vaguely set during season 11, hidden past

Crowley x Original Female Character

Other characters: Sam, Dean, Castiel, Gabriel, Lucifer, Balthazar, Rowena, Chuck

AO3 Link

The absolutely amazing art is shared below! I cannot thank @dmsilvisart enough, I absolutely adore it!

Summary: After being hit by a love spell, Luna has to adapt herself quickly to try and prevent her past being brought to light, as well as stopping her friends from getting themselves killed. In a time of crisis she knows there’s only one person she can trust, as she always had, and Crowley finds that he still can’t tell her no.

The spell had been rushed, launched as a final distraction to ensure a getaway, and the fact that it made contact, was even better.

Just not for Luna.

She was unharmed, much to her initial surprise, but after a few moments, it began to sink in as to what the spell was actually effecting.

Castiel hauled her to her feet, earning a startled yelp, and he brushed her down rather roughly, surprising her completely. This behaviour was completely unlike the angel and she didn’t really know how to take it for a moment.

“Are you alright?” He asked. “She didn't hurt you did she?”

Luna managed to free herself from Castiel's grip, letting out a sigh as she heard the Winchester’s approaching. “I'm fine, I don't know what it did, or was meant to do, but I'm fine. I feel fine.”

Castiel stared at her, unconvinced, and she realised that there's something different about the way he looked at her.

Her gaze was dragged away by Sam and Dean bursting in.

“What happened?” Dean asked rather angrily, bee lining for her, his eyes doing a quick scan of her.

“Rowena got away,” Luna said. “Whatever spell she was intending to use on me, was incomplete, so it didn't work. I'm fine.”

Dean stopped short of her and Luna found herself looking at him and then to Sam. The same look was in their eyes as Castiel.

“Are you guys okay?” She asked, a worried feeling beginning to bubble up in her stomach.

“Just worried about you,” Sam said, finally putting his gun away. “I think it's time we got away from here. We can track down Rowena later.”

Luna was stunned when Castiel and Dean agreed. “We've been chasing her for months and you guys are going to call it quits? Just like that? For all we know, she’s just in the next room.”

“For now,” Dean said, he took her arm and started pulling her from the room. “But right now, we need to get you checked over and safe.”

She stopped dead, frowning, Dean looking back at her. “I told you guys, I'm fine, but the three of you are acting really weird. If I didn’t feel the impact, I would’ve said that the spell hit you.”

“I'm not acting weird,” Dean said, letting his hand drop. “But we do need to get out of here. The spell could have a delayed effect, the sooner we are safe, the sooner we can check.”

It didn't stick, something about the way he said it just didn't make sense, and Luna stared at him until he shrugged.

“Come on Luna,” Sam stepped in close. “I think we could all just use a moment to regather ourselves. We'll go get some food or drink or something.”

Luna had no idea what to say to this and even looking back at Castiel didn't help, his gaze intensely on her, as if he wanted to stride over and just teleport her away.

“Okay,” She said, but kept herself out of anyone's reach. “If you guys insist.”

It got even weirder when they made a stop at a gas station.

Luna ducked in to grab some snacks and she quickly took notice of the clerk’s eyes following her around the store. The hair on the back of her neck started to raise up, a million possibilities flooding through her mind.

She made her way to the register and as she put her collection of items down, the clerk interrupted her.

“Free of charge.” He said, his cheeks quickly flushing red as she met his gaze, an eyebrow raised.

“I'm sorry?”

He seemed to swallow a growing lump in his throat. “F-free of charge. Anything you want, you don't have to pay.”

Luna frowned. “I can't do that. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing!” His voice rose an octave till he cleared his throat. “Anything for you.”

There it was again, that odd look in his eye, and something slowly began to dawn on her.

The bell sounded, Dean entering. “You all good Luna?”

“Uh huh,” Luna said slowly and looked back at her items. “You know what, don't worry about it.”

She left quickly, even as the clerk sputtered after her, the awkwardness leaving an odd weight on her shoulders.

Sam's frown was full of concern. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Luna said, quickly getting back in the car. “But leave it. I need to think.”

When Dean returned, he was ladened down with food.

“Seriously dude?” Sam asked as Dean dumped it all in the car.

“What?” Dean shrugged. “The guy was insistent, kept rambling on about not wanting Luna to starve. I don't know what you did to him before I walked in.”

“I didn't do anything,” She said, frustrated. “He wouldn't stop staring at me from the moment I walked in.”

Castiel, who, up until this point had remained obstinately silent, suddenly disappeared from the seat next to her, making her jump.

The three of them quickly looked over as there was a crash from the gas station, Castiel holding tight to the front of the shirt of the terrified clerk.

“Cas, what the hell man!” Dean was out first, quickly followed by Luna and Sam. “Put him down, he didn't do anything.”

Luna stared at the tenseness in Castiel, her previous theory slowly becoming more prominent.

“Cas, put him down.” She said firmly, earning the angels gaze. “I mean it Cas, staring is nothing to get upset over.”

Slowly, Castiel put the terrified young man down, an unmistakable look of anger in his eyes. “He made you uncomfortable.”

“I'm sorry!” The clerk squeaked.

“At the moment, all of you are making me uncomfortable,” Luna said, a little angrily. “Now, I don't know what's going on, but we're all going to calmly get into the Impala, and we're going to go home, got it?”

There was silence for a moment before Castiel nodded and Dean shrugged, both heading to the car.

Sam lingered behind her. “Luna-"

“Sam, if you dare ask if I'm okay, I will tell Dean to leave you here.” She said, quickly striding past him as his face flushed red, the doors closing behind them.

Silence sat heavily in the car all the way back to the bunker, the thought of chasing down Rowena long gone from any of their minds. Luna was now more concerned about whatever this spell was doing to those that were around her.

It wasn't until they pulled into the garage that Luna realised that there were going to be three more people in here to contend with, ones she currently didn't want to test her theory on.

Getting quickly from the car, ignoring the three men's looks, she hurried to her room and shut her door.

“The spell hadn't been ready,” She said to herself as started to pace. “So why do I have a feeling that this was still the intended effect?”

Luna knew magic, knew it better than most of them, she could recognise an incomplete spell when she heard and felt one, so why was this having so much effect on her? It didn’t make sense, she couldn’t understand it, but she knew that there was a good chance that she was going to have to try and fix this on her own.

“Hey sugar, what are you hiding in-”

She jumped as Gabriel popped into her room, stopping mid-sentence, his head tilting as he stared at her.

Luna groaned. “Oh Gabe, come on, I came in here so I wouldn’t be seen, not to mention the fact that I’ve asked you not to do that.”

Gabriel frowned slowly at this, and she could see his mind working, but there was no missing that now familiar look in his eyes. “Why would you not want to be seen?”

“Because something is happening, and I was trying to avoid anyone else being affected by it,” She said, a note of desperation in her voice. “I was hit by a spell and-”

“Are you alright?” He asked suddenly, looking her over quickly, as if expecting to see an injury. “You’re not hurt are you?”

“No!” Luna snapped and rolled her eyes. “For the last time, I’m fine! If you all actually listened to me-”

Her room disappeared around her and she froze, finding herself out in the main room of the bunker, all eyes turning to her.

“Oi, what did you knobs allow her to get hit by a spell for?” Gabriel asked Sam, Dean and Castiel angrily.

“We didn’t let her do anything,” Dean said, frowning. “Rowena got lucky.”

“She’s fine Gabriel,” Castiel said. “She assured us that she wasn’t hurt.”

“But who knows what else it’s doing to her!” He said and the four of them started to argue.

Luna was preoccupied though, very aware of the other two gazes now on her too. As cautiously as she can, she casts a look to the other side of the room, and refrains from flinching, both Balthazar and Lucifer staring at her. If she didn’t know any better, it was like the two of them were seeing her for the first time, much like Gabriel’s stare had been, and the more she thought about it, the more she thought that Castiel, Sam and Dean’s had been almost the same way, she just hadn’t been paying attention to it.

The one that scared her most was Lucifer, something dark in gaze, and she had to quickly drag herself back to the argument at hand as voices began to raise.

“Stop.” She said it so firmly and loudly that a silence sat in the room. “All of you will stop this right now.” They all stare at her and she takes a deep breath, trying to stop the racing of her heart. “Thank you. Now, and I’m going to make this very clear. Whatever your reactions and or feelings currently are about me, I believe that that has been from whatever spell Rowena hit me with. So, I need you all to calm down, and think rationally about this.”

Sam was first to react, frowning at her. “If the spell was affecting us, we’d know it Luna, and it hit you, not any of us.”

Luna shook her head. “Not necessarily Sam, it depends on the nature of the spell that she cast, and judging by what all of you have been doing since you saw me, it was to cause utter chaos.”

Another moment of silence passed through the room.

“I’m sorry,” Balthazar said finally. “Just what reaction am I meant to be having?”

She sighed. “That’s not helping. Don’t you think that I can see it all in you? You’ve all been acting differently since you’ve seen me after I was hit with that spell.” When they still all just looked unconvinced, she makes a frustrated grunt, glaring at Castiel, Sam and Dean. “Why do you think that that clerk reacted how he did? He saw me and something changed! Look at all the free food he gave us because of me!”

“Free petrol too,” Dean said, his grin quickly faltering at Luna’s glare. “Well what was I supposed to do? Leave him a credit card so he can charge me when he feels like it? He might’ve just been trying to get fired, you don’t know.”

“Fired, right.” Her gaze moved to Castiel. “And your reaction?”

Castiel’s cheeks tinged pink. “I didn’t like that he was making you uncomfortable.”

“Why was he making you uncomfortable?” Gabriel asked quickly.

“You don’t need to know.” Luna said quickly. “All you lot need to know is that it was because of the spell. Gabriel, you yourself were fine when you burst into my room, but as soon as you saw me-”

“How uncouth.” Balthazar said, looking at Gabriel. “I’m pretty sure she’s asked you not to do that.”

“Well, excuse me for being worried when she didn’t reappear with the three musketeers here.” Gabriel said hotly. “I don’t see either of you making an effort.”

Lucifer’s smirk set Luna’s teeth on edge. “What do we need to make an effort for? I do believe any decision that needs to be made, needs to be made by Luna.”

“And what makes you so sure she’ll pick you?” Gabriel asked, cutting Luna off. “The last I checked, she couldn’t stand your guts.”

“In all fairness Gabriel, she’s never really liked any of us,” Balthazar said. “If I do remember correctly, there have been a fair few colourfully worded insults thrown our way.”

“I’ve got a few more if you keep talking like I’m not here.” Luna growled, but they either ignored her or didn’t hear her.

Gabriel smirked. “And it’s absolutely killing you to admit that, isn’t it?”

“At least he will admit it,” Lucifer drawled. “Unlike you, constantly popping in and out of denial.”

“Denial? You’re really going to compare me to the Winchester’s and yourself?”

“Hey!”

“Well, you have spent enough time around them. I have more important things to worry about.”

“You guys don’t get to just put that on us. You lot are hardly perfect yourselves, even for angels.”

“That’s hardly fair Dean, you’ve tried to kill her before as well.”

“Because I was a demon!”

“And like that makes things any better.”

“Like she’s going to pick anyone that’s been down that road.”

“That makes you a saint in comparison doesn’t it?”

“I’m sure we could come to some sort of arrangement Sam, then we may just both get what we want.”

Back and forth the arguing went, each point making Luna just feel worse, both in anger and in the bad feeling sitting in her stomach. When she tried to talk again, and again her voice fell on deaf ears, she huffed and stormed back to her room.

In her room, she dug out a permanent marker and quickly drew a symbol on her door, and then shoved her dresser in front of it, ensuring that she wouldn’t have any visitors. It wasn’t perfect, and she knew that there was a chance she would need to get properly out eventually, but for now, it was enough to be able to think.

Luna sat on the edge of her bed, resting her head in her hands for a long moment. She was worried that the argument may get worse, but she also hoped that her presence not being there, would help ease the tension in the room.

She stared at the floor, unsure of where to start. The internet wasn’t going to be of much help, and all the books she could’ve needed were out with the others.

Huffing, she lets herself flop back onto the bed, working several options through her mind, each less impressive than the last, until she finally had a thought on one person that would potentially be able to help. Whether he would or not, would be another question. It wasn’t that they had a bad relationship or anything, in fact, she’d probably known him the longest out of anyone, but it was more she didn’t know how far she could push the friendship.

Crowley had looked at her like she was crazy, and while she knew it definitely wasn’t a normal request, she was fully in her right mind. “This is important Crowley.”

“I had figured,” He said calmly enough, but it was clear that he was a little on edge. “You do realise though what sort of target this is going to put on you?”

Luna shrugged. “No one knows me bar you, maybe the princes, but none of them have really been seen in years bar Azazel.”

He remained unconvinced. “And Lilith?”

“Okay, and Lilith,” Luna huffed. “Honestly Crowley, I don’t give a damned about any of them. None of them know this. That’s all that matters. None of them control me and you are the closest one I know to be able to trust you with this.”

“Terrible idea really.” Crowley said flatly. “No matter how much I know you’ll torture me if it ever gets out.”

Luna sighed heavily, scowling at him, losing patience. “Look, will you do it or not?”

Crowley pursed his lips, thinking for a moment longer before he nodded. “I’ll do it, but I want you to know, I do not like it.”

“And your price?”

“I’ll think of something,” He said with a casual shrug, his usual smirk tugging at his lips. “For now, though, let’s just leave it at that.”

Luna shook her head of the memory, just one of the many that she had, some not so peaceful. She didn’t know why, but she had to keep believing that Crowley would help, no matter what, because the danger of thinking otherwise was something she wasn��t sure she could face.

Hesitantly, she took out her phone and scrolled through till she found his name. She had no idea how to start a message, just staring at it for a long moment, until she knew that she would have to get straight to the point.

It seems your mother has given me a wonderful gift after hitting me with a spell. I’m sure that’s bringing up all sorts of questions in itself, but let me just say that 1. Don’t come and see me, and 2. It’s a pain in the arse; I’ve got six men arguing over it already and a store clerk that couldn’t stop staring. Can you help?

Luna hit send before she talked herself out of it, and then held her breath as she waited for a response.

She was pleased when it didn’t take long.

That’s awfully vague and amusing. I take it the whole not seeing you part is from the effects of the spell?

She lets out a breath and feels herself finally relax slightly since all this started.

Good guess. I’m almost worried that they’ll start killing each other, but if I can get rid of this spell, then hopefully I can stop that too.

I don’t know, sounds like an ideal scenario to me.

There was a loud crash outside, making Luna jump.

“Ow!” Gabriel’s voice said. “Why would you lock us out Luna?”

“Because I have more important things to deal with than listening to you lot argue over me,” She said hotly. “So you’ll all just leave me alone, got it?”

“Come on sug-”

“No Gabriel. Go away.”

She turned back to her phone. I’m sure it does, but it’s not for me. I’m almost 100% sure that Lucifer would ensure it was him that would win.

There was a long moment of silence to this, one that had Luna more than a little nervous.

That’s hardly going to be good for anyone.

No shit Crowley. Can you help or not? I'm a little stuck here.

Isn't it a good thing I owe you favour?

She sighed at this, knowing that it would come up. It had been Crowley that had introduced her to the Winchester's, the two of them having worked together on a few things before, although neither of them were particularly happy about it.

When she made friends with them, he was nothing short of amused, and while it didn't change much between them, it changed enough.

It might just be enough for us to be back to even.

Crowley smiled at the message and shook his head. “Ah love, if only you knew.”

Leave it with me.

Without much thought, he teleported to the bunker, and he actually took a moment to look at the six men sitting there, all looking rather miserable.

“Having a pity party are we?” He asked.

He knew it was bad when no one, not even Dean or Lucifer, said anything smart back.

Sam sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Luna is locked in her room. It seems we succeeded in upsetting her.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “And this is a good reason for the mood because...”

“Why do you think Crowley?” Dean huffed, picking at the label of his beer. “What are you even doing here?”

“Entertaining myself,” He said lightly, although he was currently thinking back to her messages. “A little birdy told me you were all miserable sods, so I came to see for myself. I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

When he still didn't receive any sort of response, he knew things were bad, and as much as Luna had warned him, he needed to see her to be able to tell just what sort of spell was at work.

“Hello darling,” He said, appearing in her room, making her jump. “I have to say, you have wonderful company.”

Luna was instantly anxious, as if expecting something to happen as she looked at him. “Crowley, I told you not to come and see me.”

“I know,” He said. “But if you want me to find out what's going on and how to undo this spell, then I'm going to have to try and work out what's hit you in the first place.”

She stared at him for a long moment, searching his eyes. “You're not...affected?”

Crowley tilted his head. “You seem completely normal to me love. I certainly don't see any need to be wallowing in my own pity like that lot are.” He smirked. “Maybe I should take a few videos, it is quite amusing.”

“I would much rather not have any memories of this, thank you.” Luna said, looking miserable and frustrated. “At least I know they aren’t fighting anymore.”

“Then I definitely would’ve taken videos.”

Luna sighed but finally smiled a little at him. “Cute Crowley. Do you have any idea what this is like? I feel like I’ve become the centre of their whole attention.”

Crowley hummed in thought, looking her over. “Well, whatever magic has hit you is currently hidden from me, which means there is a good chance that we are going to need my mother to remove it. Do you feel any different?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing. The spell winded me for a moment and knocked me back, but that’s it. I would’ve said it was incomplete, but the longer that this goes on, the more I’m doubting what I saw and heard.”

“Which was?”

She repeated what she heard Rowena say, or, as close as she could remember it. With all the current distractions, it hadn’t been a top priority, and when Rowena had even hit her with the spell, she’d been more occupied in trying to take the witch down.

Crowley thinks again. “Alright, give me a moment.”

He reappeared back with the others, all still looking rather miserable. Dean had successfully peeled the label of off his beer and was now spinning the bottle on the table. Sam was trying to keep himself focused on the book in front of him, but it didn’t stop him constantly looking up or rubbing the back of his neck.

Castiel seemed content to stare at the floor where he was sitting, his foot tapping occasionally. Gabriel stared down the hall and Crowley just knew that he was itching to see Luna. Balthazar hummed away to himself, pretending to be distracted by a glass of wine and a book, and it seemed that Lucifer was intent on staring at him, trying to be annoyed.

“What is wrong with you all?” Crowley asked, finally, understanding Luna’s discomfort, an odd air sitting in the room. “What is going through your heads to just be sitting here doing nothing?”

There were a few shared glances, but it was Gabriel who answered, finally breaking his gaze away from the doorway.

“You’ve seen her,” He said, sounding miserable. “Don’t you feel it too? We love her.”

Crowley blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I love Luna.” Gabriel said loudly, standing and puffing his chest out with pride. “And I’d like to see any of you challenge it.”

Dean glared at him. “Dude, we all love Luna, and it’s not a competition.”

Murmured agreements came from all of them and Crowley couldn’t help but stare at them, it slowly clicking that Luna had realised this already, which was why she’d asked him not to see her.

But then, why hadn’t he been affected? They had known each other a long time now, but Gabriel and Lucifer were archangels, they were meant to be some of the most powerful beings there were. He had little doubt that this was no simple spell, especially to provide such a result, but it was certainly nothing he’d heard about before, which was no small feat. Luna was the only person that had ever done such a thing before.

“How did you even find such magic?” Crowley asked frowning, but then shook his head, a little angry. “Don’t answer that. Why would want to go through with such magic?”

Luna wouldn’t look at him and this bothered him even more. “You don’t know what it’s like Crowley. None of you do. This is the only option I have.”

“Only option…Luna, there is nothing wrong with you now.”

She shook her head, giving him a small smile. “You are saying that simply because of how much I’ve done for you lately.”

“Rather effortlessly,” He said flatly. “But that is beside the point. You were naught but rumour and speculation when I was first thrown into this hole, and I have told you since I found you that you have potential to take the top bloody job if you wanted to. There is nothing wrong with that.”

“I don’t want the top job,” Luna said, her eyes flashing in anger for a moment so she dragged her gaze away. “I want to be normal.”

“Normal is boring darling.” Crowley said. “You cannot ask this of me.”

“It’s going to take me time to gather what I need anyway,” Luna said, turning away. “Think about it Crowley. I’d rather not do this alone.”

Crowley had watched her go, had felt helpless to do anything, and had a growing worry that this was going to be something well out of his control, not that she was anyway. Somehow, the whole time they had known each other, they had just worked off of a healthy respect of the other.

He admired her strength. She admired his tenacity.

Crowley continued staring at the men in the room, a brief thought flickering through his mind, about how that hadn’t changed between them, even though it really should have. He quickly forced it away though, wanting to deal with the problem at hand.

“Right,” Crowley said, a little slowly. “And this has all been since you’ve seen her after she was hit the spell?”

“Well, you should bloody know,” Dean growled. “You’ve seen her too.”

“Of course,” Crowley lied. “Just making sure. You do all realise that this is magic at work?”

There was a mumble around the room and Crowley’s frowned deepened.

“It feels like I’ve felt like this forever,” Castiel spoke up finally. “Every memory I have with her just makes me…makes me feel…”

Sam looked up, interrupting Castiel. “You can see her right Crowley? She hasn’t blocked you from her room? Maybe you can tell her that we’re sorry?”

Crowley stared for a long moment before shaking his head. “I am not an errand boy Moose, so that’s no can do. In fact, her and I have something much important to attend-”

His words stuck in his throat and he could feel Lucifer’s gaze burning into him, a curl in his lip as he snarled. “Watch your tongue dog, or I may just rip it out.”

Pain flared in his throat and Crowley held up a hand, it easing away just enough so he can talk. “I’ll do what I can to help, but you lot need to not intervene. She’s upset enough with you already.”

Lucifer stared at him coldly for a few more moments before letting him go, Crowley instantly teleporting back to Luna.

“It’s a love spell,” He said as she stared at him. “A rather powerful one too. They’re all practically ready to fall at your feet.”

“I was afraid of that,” Luna sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It is actually bad enough that they’ll start killing each other eventually right?”

Crowley nodded, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Considering Lucifer almost killed me for just mentioning spending time with you, yes. I won’t go back in there in a hurry.”

Luna flinched. “Sorry. I didn’t think it would put your life in danger.”

He tried to shrug it off. “It’s witchcraft darling, if that’s not life threatening, I don’t know what is. The question now is, how can we fix this before it gets that far?”

“Well, unless you know of another powerful witch, then we’re going to have to find your mother.” She said, even as he looked less than impressed. “I don’t like it either, she’s already hit me once today.”

They were cut off by a knock on the door, Sam’s voice coming through. “Luna, can we talk please? I’m sorry about all this.”

Luna sighed. “Now is not a good time Sam, maybe in an hour or so.”

“Look, whatever is going on, we just want to help,” Sam said earnestly. “Maybe I can even just look through some books for you?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, but Luna held up her hand, stopping him.

“Could you do that for me Sam?” Luna asked. “Do you know of any books that have anything on love spells?”

“Love spells?” Sam echoed for a moment. “Maybe, I’ll have to check to be sure, I know there’s at least one potion, but spells…”

“That would be great if you could do that for me Sam,” Luna said softly, making Crowley fold his arms. “Just…don’t tell the others. This spell is going to get worse before it gets better. I don’t…need anyone fighting over me.”

“I’ll see what I can find Luna.” Sam said and they heard him walk away.

Crowley stared at her, making her roll her eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” She said, gathering a few things from her draws. “You and I both know that Sam is good at this. If he can find something before the two of us find Rowena, then so be it.”

“And I thought I was the manipulative one,” Crowley said, but he doesn’t miss the slight awkwardness in her look. “And who said you were coming with me?”

Luna frowned. “Come on Crowley, you know that it’ll be easier to find her with both of us, not to mention dealing with her and getting her to remove the spell. Plus,” She glanced at the door. “I really don’t want to stay here with that lot, especially if things start to go bad.”

“Are you running from the danger or towards it?”

“It’s a rock and hard place and you know it.”

Crowley chuckled and took her arm, the two of them teleporting away from the bunker.

The last place Crowley had ever thought to look was in some small backwater town in outback Australia, and yet, this was where all the small clues he’d scrounged up had led him. Almost instantly, his nose screwed up at the heat, far too reminiscent of Hell for his liking, and then he stared at the dirt and the dust and sighed.

If someone was pulling his leg, there was going to be hell to pay for this.

It only took a few questions before he found what he was looking for, and he went out into the very emptiness of the area, just making out a small house in the distance. He was quick to make his way over, but he quickly froze, staring at the shotgun pointed at him.

“I know it won’t do much,” Luna said coldly, sitting in a chair on the porch. “But it will certainly make me feel a lot better. Get lost before I make you.”

Crowley held up his hands. “Now, now, that’s hardly a way to greet a guest.”

“Guests are invited,” She snarled. “And you were definitely not invited. I won’t tell you again.”

“I promise I’m just here to talk,” Crowley said slowly. “And I’m the only one that knows you’re here bar rumour and specula-”

The gun went off and he staggered back several steps, before he sighed. “-tion. Was that really necessary? That does still sting.”

“And I warned you.” Luna reloaded. “I won’t hesitate to shoot you again.”

Crowley pursed his lips. “Well, I guess I’ll just go and report to Lilith and Azazel where you are then. They were the ones that put me on the trail of this to begin with.”

Luna stared at him for a long moment before she slowly lowered the gun. “Why wouldn’t you report to them anyway? Seems odd for a low little demon to disobey his betters, especially when it could get him killed.”

“Low little demon indeed,” He brushed down his suit, annoyed as he looked at the holes now scattered through it. “I didn’t get this job just for the fun of it darling. I’ve worked quickly through the ranks and I’d like to keep it that way, which means I need others outside of the ranks of Hell too.”

She took a moment to process this, observing him, and Crowley waited as patiently as he could, trying not to squirm under her gaze, knowing she was seeing a lot more than he would’ve liked.

Finally, she chuckled. “Alright little demon, what do you want from me?”

“Obligatory question first, even though I know what the answer will be.” Crowley said. “Will you come to Hell and help Azazel with his plan?”

“Nope.”

“Right,” Crowley nodded. “See, normal conversation isn’t so hard is it?”

Luna just raised an eyebrow at him.

“Right,” He said again. “Second question. What are you doing in this god forsaken place?”

“Staying out of the way and passing the time,” Luna said simply. “It might be hot, but I’m less likely to come across demons accidently, until you of course.”

“There’s nothing out here,” Crowley frowned, but shook his head. “Whatever. Now that those two are out of the way, would you be willing to work with me?”

“And what would you offer in return?” Luna waved her hand as he went to speak. “Don’t feed me bullshit about keeping me hidden, I’ve been doing that well enough since I escaped Hell, and certainly don’t feed me anything about protecting me, I could smoke you where you stand.”

Crowley refrained from smirking. “I know where the witch is, or at least, rumours of where she was last.”

He got the exact reaction he was looking for, Luna tensing and slowly leaning forward in her chair, suddenly taking this much more seriously. “Is that so?”

“I found you, didn’t I?” Crowley asked innocently. “A witch should be no problem after you.”

“And just what exactly do you know of witches?” Luna asked. “Not to mention, how do you know you can find her when I couldn’t?”

“I have my sources,” Crowley said. “I thought the more pressing question you would’ve asked would be how did I know exactly who you are?”

“I’ll get to that.” Luna stood, and gestures to the front door. “But you might as well come inside first. I hate to think of any other demon or angel getting a whiff of me here talking to you.”

He blinked, having not expected this so quickly. “Just like that? You also don’t even know what I wish of you.”

She smirked back at him. “Unless you’d rather stand out in the sunshine Crowley? I’m sure a heavy sunburn would suit you.”

Crowley stared after her for a long moment before it clicked she knew who he was too, but then he grinned and followed.

The two of them appeared in the warehouse that they’d been at earlier, Luna letting out a steadying breath as Crowley lets her go.

“That’s still mind spinning,” She said. “No matter how many times you’ve done it.”

“We’ll, there is an easy solution to that,” Crowley said, but then looked around the space. “So where did dear old mother get too?”

“She ran out that door,” Luna pointed to the side of the room, ignoring his first comment. “After hitting me with the spell. Of course, those three were more worried about me than following her as soon as they saw me.”

They moved to the room, to see a small puddle of blood on the floor, Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“I may have shot her,” Luna said a little sheepishly. “The bullet grazed her leg, or, that’s what I thought.”

“Oh, you won’t find me complaining,” Crowley said rather cheerfully, seeing small spots of blood on the floor. “And look, we even have a trail to follow.”

Luna smiled and shook her head as she followed after him. That would definitely never be a relationship she understood, if it could even be called that at this point. Like most of their odd little group, they always seemed reluctant to kill each other.

“I still can’t believe you let yourself get hit by a spell,” He said casually as they walked together, following the faint trail of blood. “Another spell. After everything you’ve been through, I thought you were actively avoiding anything with witches.”

“I was,” Luna said. “But when the boys practically begged for my help in pinning Rowena down, I could hardly say no, no matter how much I wanted to. I never thought I’d end up on the end of another one though. It’s certainly not preferable, and I still can’t decide whether it was better or worse than the first one I got hit with. At least the second was what I wanted.”

“You could just break that one,” He said, watching her out of the corner of his eye. “And then break this one yourself.”

“And bring an even bigger mess back? I’m good.” Luna said. “It took me too long to do what I did in the first place Crowley, I’m hardly going to tear it down just like that. You know that.”

“Shame,” He sighed. “It’d be good to have you back at your full potential.”

“You mean it would be good to have someone powerful on your side again?” She asked, grinning as he shot her a look. “Come on Crowley, you can admit it to me, I’m not an idiot.”

Crowley snorted. “I would never say such a thing.”

“As in you won’t admit it or won’t call me an idiot?”

The blood trail ends and Crowley frowned at her. “Can we get back on the task at hand please? I can’t say how long we’ll be left alone out here, especially considering two of those currently in love with you are archangels.”

“You don’t need to remind me,” Luna chuckled. “But there is one more thing I have to ask.”

Crowley paused and frowned, a trickle of worry rolling down his spine, although he wasn’t entirely sure why. It had been some time now since she could see things in him, but he currently had nothing to hide, so it was an irrational thought. “What?”

“Did you ever tell anybody?” She asked, smiling. “That wasn’t so painful a question now, was it?”

He stared at her for a moment before he sighed and gave a small chuckle. “No and no. Considering I helped you…put it away, I hardly want to be facing any fall back for it, and with the attention you’re now receiving, it is an uncomfortable thought that any of them could find out.”

Luna nodded, still smiling. “I guess we should hurry it along then. All the angels do have the capability of finding out of course. In all honesty, I’m actually surprised that they haven’t.”

“They aren’t the brightest.”

She laughed. “True, but do be careful not to push that line too far.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and let her lead through the closest door to look for anything further on where Rowena could've gone, his eyes following after her.

Worry sat in his stomach, and had he not been a demon, would've made him feel rather ill. The thought that anyone else could find out about her, could understand or undo what had happened, he wasn't entirely sure he could live with that scenario. It was irrational, considering the ease of the alliance that they had over the years and into now, but this had been something that was her choice. He’d hate to see that taken away.

“You wanted immortality.” Luna growled low, approaching the wounded and terrified witch. “You wanted to survive the world through the ages, and yet you cursed someone like me to Hell. I hate to tell you this, but that was the stupidest thing you could’ve ever done.”

The witch tried to straighten out, tried to get her bearings again, but as soon as she met Luna’s black eyed gaze, her courage faltered. “Please…”

Luna snarled and grabbed the witch by the throat, pinning her to the wall. “Please? Do I look like I care about your pleas? Now, where is it?”

She whimpered, holding her tongue.

“Oh, so you were courageous enough to kill me when I was human,” Luna said coldly. “But now that I come back practically as death itself, you are nothing but a snivelling coward.”

“What do you want from me?” She managed to get out.

“I want it back.” Luna spat. “What do you think I want?”

“B-but you can’t use it anymore…”

“Do I look like a give a damn?” Luna snarled. “Your death is going to be slow and painful, that I promise, but you can save yourself a whole lot of torture beforehand by giving me what I want now.”

Tears filled the witch’s eyes. “Please…please don’t kill me…”

“You don’t get to ask me that.”

The witch’s screams were more than satisfying for Crowley, but he still couldn’t help but frown, not realising that the witch would have anything she could’ve taken from Luna when she cursed her. It was a development that he hadn’t been expecting. As far as he’d been concerned, the two of them had been more than honest with each other during all this build up to here.

Now he was questioning everything.

The fight the witch had put up had been a decent one, but it was quickly clear that she was no match for Luna, and it was really the first time that Crowley had seen her use any sort of her power to its full capabilities. He had little doubt that she was the strongest demon to have ever existed, which was both dangerous and exciting. He was the only one that knew she still existed.

But now he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d tell him exactly what was going on.

The screaming stopped, turning into wheezing sobs and Crowley watched Luna tuck something quickly into her pocket.

“There, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Luna said coldly. “You witch’s all think that having magic makes you untouchable, that it gives the right to do as you please without consequences. Well, guess what, I’m the consequence.”

Luna stepped back, letting the witch slump to the ground, letting a silence fall for a long moment.

“Would you like anything done with her?” Crowley asked.

“I’m thinking.” Luna said, glancing at him. “I don’t suppose Hell would take a witch for a while?”

Crowley smirked, knowing where she was going with this. “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

The witch tried to mumble something that sounded like ‘no’, but they both ignored her.

“Good,” Luna turned away from her. “I’ll be happy if I never have to see her again. I’ll leave that to you, of course, right now, I need to get away.”

He didn’t have a chance to say anything, Luna disappearing, and leaving him less than pleased. The witch continued to sob and for a long moment, Crowley thought.

“What was she after?” Crowley asked. “What was it that you took from her?”

Crowley had been less than pleased when the witch had told him what it was, happily locking her away in Hell with an excuse he could no longer remember. The harder part now, apart from trying not to be angry at Luna, was trying to find out how it gotten that far in the beginning. He spent a long time thinking of a way to broach the subject, but as it turned out, she approached him first, asking him to look after it.

Which he still wasn’t happy about, especially when she turned herself human.

And yet, here he was, still by her side helping her with whatever she needed.

His thoughts lingered on it all for a long moment, watching as she followed the blood trail, and again, that thought came up and niggled him, causing him to internally scowl at himself and push it away once again.

The blood trail disappeared in one of the back rooms, and they could both tell that Rowena had stopped to either heal or bandage the wound. They hoped that she wouldn’t have gone far.

“Crowley,” Luna said slowly, a frown coming to her, the thought just occurring to her. “You don’t think Rowena knows, do you?”

He didn’t like the idea any more than her. “I don’t see how she would, and if she did, I’d like to think she had something more impressive than a half formed love spell up her sleeve.”

Luna looked about as convinced as he felt, and as much as he wouldn’t argue with her returning to what she was, he also knew that there were a fair few dangers involved with it.

“Right,” Luna sighed and then tugged a small bag out of her pocket, Crowley raising an eyebrow at her, making her give a small smile. “Don’t give me that. I do what I have to do survive.”

“That I know,” He said flatly. “But perhaps you should let me do it? I’d hate to think that magic could conflict with magic.”

She hesitated a moment, but tossed the bag to him, Crowley catching it easily. “I guess I picked the right person to help me then.”

Crowley snorted, pulling a pinch of powder out from within. “I’ll try not to take offence to that.” He muttered a few words and blew the powder, it shimmering in the air for a moment before gathering and moving outside the building. “Let’s go get ourselves a witch, shall we?”

Luna sighed. “Again. We should stop meeting like this.”

He chuckled, leading the way. “Or you could stop asking, but then I’d really know something was wrong.”

She smiled after him, shaking her head as she followed.

For once, it seemed, fate was on their side, Rowena looking less than impressed as they caught her trying to get out a locked door.

“Well, isn’t this cute?” She asked, looking between the two of them. “I suppose a few words had you eating out of her palm? I’m surprised none of the others she’s come across has joined you.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’d be more than happy to,” Crowley said rather cheerfully. “And since one of them is Lucifer, I’m pretty sure he could settle the score rather well.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Rowena scoffed. “If you really thought that, if you weren’t terrified of him yourself, you would’ve already brought him along. Now, what can I do for the two of you?”

“Get rid of the spell,” Luna said before Crowley could say anything else. “Get rid of it and clear everyone that’s been affected.”

Rowena rolled her eyes. “Oh yes? Just like that? Sorry dear, the spell is permanent. You’re just going to have to learn to deal with the consequences.”

There was a dangerous flash in Luna’s eyes, one that reminded Crowley of what she had once been. “Just like that. I’m not here to play games Rowena. I want it gone, and I want it gone now. They’re all going to kill each other soon enough if it’s not.”

“That would be a pity, I’m sure.” Rowena said, and they watched closely as she tried to shift a little. “But I can’t say that none of them wouldn’t deserve it.”

“While I’m sure we can certainly say Lucifer deserves it,” Luna said coldly. “I can guarantee he would come out on top. I don’t really feel like losing all my friends today, or any day for that matter, no matter how much they are currently convinced they love me."

Rowena tutted and looked at Crowley. "Doesn't it just break your heart to hear her say that?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "And why should it? I am not effected by your spell, so whatever else is laced in there means little to me."

There was something about Rowena's look that neither of them liked.

A charming smile crossed her lips. "Is that so? Well isn't that interesting. I'm sure then that you'll feel no compulsion at all to jump in to save her when things go wrong then?"

Crowley and Luna frowned at this. "What do you mean go wrong?"

"Well you were correct in your assumption that they will get violent," Rowena said innocently. "And more than one of them will probably die, but then the real kicker of the spell? They'll turn on you. If one of them can't have you, none of them will."

"No," Crowley's voice was quiet. "Remove the spell now mother."

"I have more important things to be doing I'm afraid.” She said sweetly. "So as much as I'd love to stay and chat, I really must be going."

No!" Luna took a step forward, but Rowena was quicker, launching her backwards with a wave of her hand, her body slumping.

Crowley found himself powerless and immobilised as Rowena turned to him.

“Oh, I'm sorry Fergus," She patted his check as she walked over. "But I would tell her before it's too late.”

Rowena left, anger curling in Crowley's blood, even as Luna groaned, sitting up, giving a small shake of her head, before she focused back on the room, seeing what had happened.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I hate witches?" She grumbled as she limped over to him, breaking him free from the spell.

"Many a time, and the feeling is mutual." Crowley growled, glad to be free of that quickly. "Our chances of finding her now are slim."

Luna scowled. "Almost makes me wish...” She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. We better get back before they do anything.”

Crowley pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. "Your head is bleeding."

"Oh, thank you.” She dabbed at the wound. "I'm just glad I wasn't unconscious long. That could've been disastrous.”

He nodded, but he was still watching her, something about Rowena's comment getting to him, although he didn't understand exactly why, or more, he didn’t want to understand why.

Luna sighed, the blood not easing. "I'm dreading walking into the bunker like this. It's going to be disastrous, especially when they are all an edge with each other as it is."

Crowley stepped forward and applied a little more pressured to the wound. "Have you ever thought what it would be like to go back?"

She met his gaze with a sad smile. “Many times, but you know as well as I do...”

His expression is grim, his jaw set. He knew, he knew what she was trying to do, but he still had a feeling that it would never work. Spell or no spell, demon was ingrained in her blood, and she was always going to be one now, no matter what the spell did.

Luna could read him still, even after all this time, and she knew he still wasn’t happy about it, no matter what she said to change his mind. If she didn’t stick with what she felt was right though, then she was going to be miserable, and if she could get things back in control...

Luna stared at the pile of ingredients in front of her, going over her mental list again to ensure she definitely had everything. Crowley was watching her, still looking unconvinced, but he remained silent, waited for her to talk to him.

Finally, she let out a slow breath and met his gaze. “Is everything in place?”

Crowley nodded. “Set and ready to go as soon as this is done.”

She hummed absently. “Good, and the Winchester’s don’t suspect anything?”

“Darling, if they did, they would be on to you already.”

She gave a nervous smile. “Relax Crowley, it’ll work out fine.”

He snorted. “I think it’s you who needs to relax. If you really want to go through with this, then do it now, before you have time to convince yourself otherwise.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to change?”

“I don’t,” He admitted. “But this is your choice, not mine, just as all of this has been your choice.”

Luna flinched and began preparing the ingredients. “Not all of it.”

“I meant between us Luna.”

She smiled at him, a sadness in her gaze that he'd never seen before. "Whatever happens, I do want to thank you. You've given me a freedom back that I haven't had in a long time."

Crowley does his best to keep his expression passive. "Don't get to sentimental on me darling, I might just change my mind about helping. You are a damned good demon after all,"

"I wouldn't say that," Luna shook her head slightly. "More just...stuck in the middle I guess."

"Nothing is black and white Luna."

"I know,” Luna said softly. "We both know. Now, let's get this over and done with."

The spell had worked, almost too well. After everything she'd been through, she was basically human again, but Crowley knew, as did Luna, that the spell was hanging on by a thread.

Still, the plan went on. She came across the Winchester's on a ‘hunt’, one carefully organised by Crowley to gain their trust. Luna was good, almost too good, but they eventually let her in.

Crowley didn't like it then, and he liked it even less now. She deserved better than this.

Luna comes out of her bathroom, the two of them safely back in the bunker. Things were quiet, but right now they couldn't sense any harm being done, so Luna focused on cleaning up.

"How's that?" She asked, angling her head for him.

"Very normal," Crowley said. “But you know that's not going to stop the angels from sensing your pain."

"I know, but I can't do much about that." She rolled her eyes at his look. "It's not that simple Crowley. The destruction it could cause alone-"

"Could potentially level the bunker. I have always said the place needs redecorating."

Luna laughed softly, shaking her head. "Come on, let’s go make sure everyone is okay."

Crowley caught her arm as she went to walk past and he hesitated for a moment, a bad feeling sitting in his stomach, but as she met his gaze, surprised, he faltered.

“Just…be careful.” He said quietly. “We don’t know how bad this has gotten. If you were still…you know…I wouldn’t have to…to…”

Luna smiled and patted his hand. “Come on Crowley, we’ll be alright. It’s not like I want to go out there, I’d rather not have others obsessing over me, but right now, we’re the only ones that know what is really happening, meaning we’re the only ones that are going to be able to fix it.”

Crowley let out a slow breath and forced himself to let go of her arm, watching her smile again and head to the door. His bad feeling grew, but he pushed it down. She was right, and he had to trust her as he always did.

The bunker was far too quiet for either of their liking as they went out into the hall, and Crowley watched her fingers itch a little towards her gun. Something wasn’t right.

Whatever had happened while they were away, was nothing good.

Something was burning, and Luna instead pulled out her angel blade, Crowley following suit. Both of them knew that smell, having used holy oil multiple times over the years, and it only set them more on edge wondering what had happened for that to come out.

The first thing they saw were Sam and Dean tied to chairs, both trying to get themselves free, mouths gagged shut. The next was Gabriel, Castiel and Balthazar trapped within a circle of burning holy oil.

Neither of them got a chance to react to what was going on, Crowley suddenly launched away from Luna’s side, leaving just her facing off against Lucifer.

“That was uncalled for,” Luna said, a note of coldness in her voice, glaring at Lucifer. “Crowley has been helping me, and by extension, helping you.”

Lucifer shrugged, unfazed, holding her gaze. “He’s still just a demon, by rights, I should just kill him now and be done with it.”

“Really?” Luna asked, keeping Crowley in the corner of her gaze as he slowly gets up, glaring darkly at Lucifer. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. As much as none of you here seem to think otherwise, I do prefer him very much alive.”

He scoffed. “And what hold does he have over you to have that reaction? You are a hunter, by right-”

“I should be killing you too,” Luna said. “As the supposed epitome of evil as you are, but life is just a little more…complicated than that, isn’t it Luci?”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed on Luna and she could see him pause, an implication in her tone that he didn’t quite understand. A tense air began to fill the room, and all eyes were on Lucifer and Luna.

“Leave Luna alone Lucifer,” Gabriel said, trying to edge himself as close as possible to the circle of flames. “She’s the victim in all this, and needs us to help, not hinder.”

“I’m not the one that’s armed,” Lucifer said, gesturing lazily to the angel blade in her hand. “So clearly she was expecting some sort of fight.”

Luna huffed and threw down the blade, it clattering to the floor. “No, actually, it was a precaution. Did you have something you wanted to say?”

Lucifer looked from her to the blade and back, even as all the others in the room grew more agitated, included Crowley, who was now back on his feet and trying to edge forward a little without gaining Lucifer’s attention.

“You think it’s a spell,” Lucifer said slowly. “Had little Sammy there looking things up. You could’ve easily just asked us to check. If there was, we could’ve gotten rid of it.”

“It is a spell,” Luna said. “And I got Sam to look because he’s been the most sensible about all this, no matter what you all think.”

“But you still didn’t let him near you again.”

“No, I didn’t,” Luna folded her arms. “Because the less contact you all had with me while this spell is on me, the better. Of course, after finding Rowena, I realised that contact or not wasn’t going to make a damn bit of difference, so that’s why we came back to check.”

“And-”

“Crowley is unaffected,” Luna cut him off as his gaze went to move to Crowley, getting his attention back on her. “That’s why he has been able to properly help. Now, I’m only going to ask you this once, Lucifer, please let everyone go, so we can sort this out in a civilised manner.”

Lucifer looked unimpressed, his eyes narrowing on her. “And just how is the dog not affected? He is just like the rest of us. This is assuming I even believe you about the spell.”

“I don’t have answer for that,” Luna said. “It could have been the result of the incompleteness of the spell, or it could just be that it doesn’t work on demons. I’m sure there are other reasons, but you are avoiding my request.”

He stood and approached slowly, perhaps a little cautiously, her previous words still in the back of his mind. “Yes, because none of these idiots deserve you. I’m ensuring that we won’t be interrupted.”

“Crowley, stay there,” Luna said, holding Lucifer’s gaze as Crowley tried to inch further again. “I’m alright. He is not going to do anything to me.”

“Forgive me if I don’t exactly believe you.” Crowley muttered under his breath, but against his better judgement, he didn’t continue forward.

Lucifer stood over her. “And how can you be so sure of that?”

“Well, you can certainly try,” Luna said lightly. “But I assure you, you will be the one regretting it.”

Crowley watched as Lucifer seemed to consider how to take that statement. Luna had never been specific on how well she knew him, but Crowley knew that nothing good had happened between them. She had been furious when Sam and Dean allowed him to stay in the bunker, and if things hadn’t been as bad as they were outside of this, he knew she would've left.

Now he was wishing she had anyway.

Lucifer tilted his head at her. "And just what do you think you can do to me?"

There were multiple shouts at once but Luna was already moving, a second angel blade in her hand as she dodged out of the way of Lucifer’s blow, and swing back in, the blade catching him under the ribs.

It wasn't enough to kill him, but it was enough steal his breath and power for a moment, although the holy oil and ties did not disappear.

The lights in the bunker began flickering, Gabriel building up his power to try and get out. "Leave her alone!"

Luna's gaze doesn't leave Lucifer, even as she slowly picked up her first blade, watching him pull out the first. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.”

Lucifer glared at her, his eyes red. "Is that so? Well I'm sad to tell you that it won't have much effect on me except to piss me off.”

"Then you'll get to feel just a fraction of what I've felt." She snarled. "Shall I do it again?”

His eyes flashed with power. "If this is love, then I hate it.”

“You haven't even been close to human, Luci, so you'll never have an understanding of what real love is.” She spun the blade in her hand. “I can arrange it though, if you like. Now that would make me feel better.”

Crowley found himself suddenly frozen, staring at Luna, a lot of things suddenly clicking into place.

Lucifer approached slowly, her blade in his hand. “And what would you do with angel grace when you got it? You’re nothing but a little human, you have no use for such a thing, even if I did let you do such a thing.”

Crowley loved her. That was why the spell didn’t work on him. That was why his worry had been growing for her. He loved her and he hated that he had never realised it.

“I’d keep it away from you for starters.” Luna stood her ground. “Then I’d probably enjoy watching you squirm for as long as possible. You wouldn’t be able to cope with being human Luci, and that would just make me all the more amused knowing that I was the one that got to do it.”

He had loved her for a long time, long before she’d made herself human again, and certainly long before he’d ever experienced human emotions again. Being a demon had just dampened the emotion, hadn’t allowed him to understand it properly. He had always wondered why he was so against her being human again, or why the two of them just seemed to fit into such an easy rhythm with each other. He couldn’t believe that he’d never realised this before.

But then, he thought, he always chased those thoughts away that got even close to this admission.

Lucifer’s expression was a cold snarl. “You enjoy playing with fire too much, especially for a hunter. I think it’s time you were taught a lesson or two.”

Crowley loved her and if he let this go on, he was about to watch her die.

Luna smirked. “And just what makes you think that I’m an ordinary hunter?”

Lucifer took another step and suddenly Crowley was between them. He didn’t have any idea what he was going to do about it, but this had to stop now.

“Crowley, don’t.” Luna’s voice was quiet, just for him, tension sitting far too heavily in the air.

There was something in her voice, something that Crowley had only just realised that he used himself. Luna felt the same for him and it just made him more resolute to not move.

“This needs to stop.” Crowley said, keeping himself calm, holding Lucifer’s gaze. “We need everyone, everyone, for what is coming, and going after Luna is madness, no matter how you think you feel.”

“Crowley, please get out of the way.” Luna took his arm and Crowley’s heart raced, feeling what she felt. “Please.”

“I can’t do that Luna,” Crowley said back, still not moving, wondering whether she had ever seen this in him when she’d still been a demon. “Now, we can get this spell sorted, we just need more time.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed and in a movement that none of them saw, everything came crashing down.

Crowley was thrown back several feet by Luna, that old feeling of her power rippling across his skin for a moment, and he had just enough time to catch himself and see what had happened.

It didn’t have time to register before Gabriel, Castiel and Balthazar suddenly broke free from the holy oil and rushed at Lucifer, brilliant flashes of light filling the bunker, Sam and Dean knocked backwards in their chairs as the angels fought. Anger and rage crackled through the air, fuelling the chaos, and Sam and Dean struggled to break free to try and join the fray.

Crowley ignored all that, he caught Luna before she could fall, a shuddering gasp leaving her, the angel blade sticking out from her chest. His chest ached, knowing she didn’t have long, but it took him a moment to find his voice.

“What did you do that for love?” Crowley asked, fighting hard to not let his voice break. “That was incredibly foolish.”

Luna does her best to smile through the pain, meeting his gaze. “For you, it would’ve been instant death, for me…well…” She fought to draw in another breath. “I’m sorry Crowley.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for love,” Crowley gripped the blade and as carefully as he could, he pulled it free, blood blossoming quickly on her chest. “I’m the one that should be sorry. There’s a lot of things that I should have done a long time ago.”

She took his hand, and he hated that her grip is so weak. “You were right, you know? I should’ve never have…have…”

Crowley shook his head. “No, I should’ve made you take the risk, that’s what I should’ve done, then we wouldn’t be in this mess. My mother could’ve never used that spell and…and…”

Luna gave a weak chuckle, despite herself. “Then…you would’ve…never…known…”

She knew. Of course she knew. Luna always knew. She knew him better than he knew himself.

He licked his lips, watching her getting weaker by the moment, his heart breaking, and he knew that there was only one thing that he was going to be able to do, consequences be damned anymore, and it honestly couldn’t go more wrong than this.

Crowley refused to lose her.

From his jacket pocket, he pulled a vial, angel grace glittering within, and before Luna can protest, can grab his hand to try and stop him, he pulled the topper off.

Lunvariel was less than impressed when she found herself on Earth, looking around with a slight air of distaste at all the nature surrounding her, before her gaze moved to Chuck, standing a little distance away, watching her.

“What?” She asked. “I’m sure whatever this is, you could’ve talked to me about in Heaven.”

Chuck was looking at her disappointedly. “No, I couldn’t. It would cause all sorts of problems if I did, and after what Lucifer had done, and what I had to do to him, no one needs anymore of that turmoil.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “And what exactly am I have meant to have done to deserve that accusation? I helped you put Lucifer away.”

“Perhaps,” Chuck said slowly, breaking away from her gaze to look around. “But clearly you have another plan in mind for him. Being in Hell would make it easier to handle.”

“A bigger plan?” She echoed. “Who has been filling you with that nonsense? The only plan I have is to keep doing my duty for you.”

“And what is your duty Lunvariel?”

She was starting to get frustrated. “I look out for Lucifer, Michael, Raphael and Gabriel, as always, as you created me for. I ensure they stay in line, and I put them away when they don’t.”

Chuck met her gaze slowly, and she could see the doubt clearly in his eyes. “You don’t love humanity.”

“I love it enough,” Lunvariel said flatly. “From a distance. Being here is certainly not a preference of mine, but that does not mean I do not care. We all have places that we’re comfortable.”

She was worried, having never seen Chuck like this before, and while she knew Lucifer’s rebellion had taken its toll, she never thought it would have him question her loyalty. He’d brought her here for a reason, and now she was wondering exactly what it was.

“I’m sorry Lunvariel,” Chuck said softly. “I do not wish to do this, but if you cannot be honest with me, I cannot take that risk. You will stay here.”

This took her back. “Stay here? What are you talking about? I have always been honest with you. What is it that I am meant to have-”

Her words are strangled in her throat as pain erupted from her back, sending her crashing to her knees, tears filling her eyes. Her wings burned behind her, burning feathers floating through the air, and she tries to look at him, her chest aching through more than the pain.

Chuck sighed heavily. “I have no pleasure in doing this. I do not want to do this. I have no choice but to do this. I am sorry.”

“Sorry,” She gasped through the pain, her voice breaking. “I have done nothing wrong!”

“I cannot trust you saying that,” He said sadly. “And after all that Lucifer said, I cannot leave you in Heaven. This is the fairest way to deal with it.”

“What?” Lunvariel tried to get back to her feet, but it was still all too much, she had no strength left in her body. “You’re still going to take Lucifer’s word over mine? After all he’s done?”

“I am sorry.” Chuck turned away from her. “If that is worth anything at all.”

Lunvariel watched him disappear, holding herself as tight as she could, tears rolling down her cheeks, anger curling in her stomach. She was alone and she was human.

The reaction to her grace was immediate, her body arching, and through the chaos of the angels fighting and the lights flickering, the bunkers alarms started blaring, the room blinking between red, white and black.

Crowley backed away as best he could, shielding his eyes, as Luna seemed to burn brightly, surrounded by fire and ash and smoke. The crackle of power through the air was unmistakable, and soon the lights disappeared entirely, flickering them all into complete darkness momentarily.

Confusion filled the room quickly, but through squinting eyes, Crowley could see Luna moving, could see her kneeling on the floor, large wings forming behind her, heavily damaged, very little of them left, and black smoke seemed to trail from her hands.

Slowly, she rose, her chest rising and falling in deep breathes, and with a sudden move, throwing out her hands, everything snapped back to normal. Lucifer, Gabriel, Castiel and Balthazar were thrown to opposite corners of the room, Sam, Dean and Crowley all back on their feet. The lights flickered on and the alarms stopped.

There was a moment of complete and utter silence.

“Lunvariel.” Gabriel dared to speak first. “You’re alive?”

Luna’s eyes opened slowly, burning a vivid and bright blue ringed with black.

“Lunvariel’s a myth,” Balthazar squirmed against her hold. “And I would greatly appreciate it if you let me go.”

“No.” She said, all too calmly, her gaze turning to Lucifer, who was watching her, frozen. “Not until I deal with him.”

Lucifer seemed to recover a little at this, his lip curling in a snarl. “You want to deal with me, little Lunvariel? Now that is adorable. You never had any chance of-”

His words were strangled in his throat, and he struggled as she turned her gaze away, looking momentarily at the trails of smoke still curling around her hands. Slowly, she flexes her fingers and it eases away, the black in her eyes slipping back to white, although her eyes were no less blue.

“Chance of what, exactly?” She asked, her voice cool and calm. “Because last I checked, keeping you idiots out of trouble was my job. With Uriel dead and Michael still in the cage, that only leaves me with the two of you to deal with, and seeing as I have no problem with Gabriel…” She looked at him again, a hardness in her gaze. “And seeing as what you did to me, I think I have every right to do as I please.”

“Hang on a second,” Dean said quickly. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this, but we need him still, but not only that, what the hell is going on?”

Luna titled her head a little. “I thought that would be obvious? I’m sorry to have lied to you boys for so long, but, well, I’m not exactly human. I have been appearing as such to…well, you don’t really need to know that. Let’s just say I have had a grudge for a very long time. Crowley allowed me to clear one off of my list, a certain witch who cursed me to Hell, but now I finally have the opportunity to do the other.”

“Angels can’t be cursed to Hell,” Sam said, still looking just as confused as Dean. “And they certainly can’t be…be…whatever you are.”

She smirked slowly and her gaze returned to Lucifer. “I guess rules change.”

There was an audible cracking sound as Lucifer was pressed hard into the wall, cracks starting to appear, and despite his struggling, it was doing little against her new found power.

“Get me cursed to Earth, Luci,” Luna tutted. “Surely you can’t have thought I wouldn’t have held onto that?”

Crowley held Sam and Dean back as they went to step forward, shaking his head. He knew, better than anyone here, that there was no stopping Luna when she had her mind set on something. He watched in sheer awe of her, completely out of ideas on what to do next, except to let her do what she had to do.

“Luna, you can’t,” Castiel said, also trapped by her power still. “We need him!”

“Oh, I know,” She said, the calm tone still in her voice. “I’m just teaching a lesson and waiting.”

Lucifer was gritting his teeth against the pain, trembling as he tried to fight back but couldn’t. Cracks were starting to appear along his skin, his grace shining through, and they all thought she was about to rip him apart, none of them having little doubt that she could.

The bunkers lights flickered again and then Chuck was standing there.

“Lunvariel, stop.” He said firmly, eyes alight as she glanced back at him. “I’m here. We can talk.”

The power in the room dissipated and Lucifer dropped with a groan, Gabriel, Castiel and Balthazar stumbling forward as they were let go as well.

“You could’ve stopped this at any time.” Luna said with a lazy shrug. “You let it get this far. In all honesty, I’m actually surprised you stopped.”

Chuck’s jaw clenched. “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk, but not here.”

With that, the two of them disappeared from the room.

“What just happened?” Dean asked.

Castiel grunted, brushing his clothes down, looking a little worse for wear. “She’s gone to speak to God. I guess I should’ve known by now that we shouldn’t have believed him when he told us she was dead.”

Sam and Dean stared at him for a long moment before they register what he said. “Wait, Chuck is God?”

“Why was I in love with Luna?” Gabriel asked, screwing up his nose slightly, rubbing his head. “That’s…what all that had been about right?”

“If you listened, you would all have realised that she’d been hit with a spell.” Crowley said, feeling like a long explanation was coming and not wanting to be a part of it. “Naturally, it broke when she revealed herself.”

“Why were you carrying around her grace?” Castiel asked.

Crowley shrugged and waved his hand at them as he turned away. “None of your business Feathers.”

With that, he vanished from the bunker, leaving them to sort themselves out, but he doesn’t return to Hell. Crowley didn’t care what discussion she was having with Chuck, or who Chuck even was, he needed to see her. He needed to know she was truly alright.

He appeared close enough that he was out of sight, but could still hear the conversation being had. In the middle of nowhere, again, it seemed, although at least this time was in the woods, the two of them overlooking a large valley.

“You took an awful risk doing that,” Chuck said, a little sternly. “Do you even know how much could’ve gone wrong?”

Luna raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t take any risk. That was Crowley’s choice to not let me die.”

“You and I both know you could’ve stopped it.” He said. “Even after all this time, you still haven’t learnt anything, have you?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You talk of me not learning things, and yet, you are still hiding from your sister, still hiding from the responsibilities of Heaven, and still acting as if I was in the wrong all that time ago.”

“You were.”

“I wasn’t.” A harsh note entered her voice. “And you bloody well know it. You just believed Lucifer’s bullshit. Even now, you still hurried to his side.”

“If Lucifer wasn’t wrong, you wouldn’t have fallen in love with a demon.” Chuck said, his voice raising a little. “You would’ve gone for a human, or you would’ve lived out your days in peace.”

“Is that what you wanted me to do?” Luna laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that I wasn’t supposed to get captured by a witch, have my remaining grace stolen, and then have that witch curse me to Hell. Then what? You really think that I was going to just sit back and let myself be tortured for eternity? You really think that I wasn’t going to take opportunities door as soon as it was knocked on?”

Chuck shook his head. “You’re missing the point.”

“No, you’re missing the point.” She said coldly. “Despite what I was doing for you, you always underestimated me.”

“And now look at you,” He looked her over. “Practically an abomination, certainly not one I created.”

“No, one I created,” Luna said lightly, letting her eyes flash to black for a moment. “Sitting firmly in the middle, where I belong, because you seemed content to put me there in the first place.”

Chuck huffed and took several steps away, frowning and muttering a few curses under his breath, before he looked back at her, a sadness in his gaze. “For what it’s worth, Lunvariel, I am sorry.”

She shrugged. “You tried that already. For what it’s worth, Lunvariel died a long time ago. It’s Luna now, and I hope you don’t forget it.”

He went to say something else, watching her for a moment, but thinks better of it, shaking his head and vanishing.

For a long moment, quiet sat in the air.

“You can come out now Crowley.” Luna said quietly, smiling as he appeared. “I guess it makes things a bit clearer for you now?”

“Not in the slightest,” He said with a small smile and looking her over. “Are you alright love?”

She nodded slowly, seeming to think about, and held out her hand for him. “I will be once you come here.”

Crowley took her hand, the two of them standing there together, watching the quiet of the world, unsure of what was to happen next.

“Thank you,” Luna said finally. “For taking that risk.”

“I was hardly going to have you die on me now, was I?” He asked quietly, giving her hand a squeeze. “After all that, just sending you into the nothingness? I don’t think so.”

She laughed and shook her head. “It’s…still not what I was expecting.”

“No,” He admitted. “But we can sort that out. We seem to be good at doing that together. Sorting things out.”

Luna nodded, casting him a look. “We are. To think I shot you when we first met.”

Crowley chuckled. “I clearly didn’t take it personally.”

Again, an easy silence fell, the two of them looking out over the valley together.

“Crowley?”

“Yes Luna?”

“I love you, I hope you know that, no matter what it really means for two people like us, and no matter what others will think it means.”

Crowley smiled. “I love you too, and I think it means exactly what we want it to mean, others be damned.”

Luna beamed and gave his hand a squeeze. “So if I asked you to still help me hunt your mother down…”

“Oh, now that would be my pleasure love,” Crowley chuckled. “Although, we might actually have to thank her for this one.”

She laughed and nodded. “That we might, although, still being a witch, I don’t think I’ll mean it too much.”

They laughed together and, still hand in hand, disappeared to go and find Rowena.

#supernatural #crowley #crowley x original female character #crowley resurrection bang 2021

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splendidlyimperfect · 4 years ago

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critical hit - chapter 3 [they're taking the hobbits to isengard]

When Sting tells Natsu that one of his friends from school is going to be joining their weekly Dungeons & Dragons game, Natsu isn’t impressed - their table is already full. But while Natsu and Gray’s in-game characters clash completely, Natsu finds that real-life Gray might not be that bad after all.

Chapter Summary: D&D night gets unexpectedly cancelled, but Natsu wants to hang out with Gray anyway.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Pairings: Natsu/Gray, Sting/Rogue

Tags: Modern AU, Dungeons & Dragons, Role-Playing Games, Awkward Flirting, ADHD Natsu, Geek Gray

*i know i haven’t updated this in two whole years (my bad) but i finally got inspiration so thanks for your patience and enjoy <3*

*link to ao3 in the comments cause tumblr keeps fucking up my posts*

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“I’m stoked for this fight tonight!” Natsu grinned at Gray, who was curled up in the passenger seat of Natsu’s car, looking out the window at the slowly setting sun. “We’re gonna kick this thing’s ass.”

“I dunno about that,” Gray replied, fiddling with his necklace. Natsu couldn’t quite make out what the pendant was. “We’re all nearly dead and out of magic. We might be fucked.”

“Pfff,” Natsu scoffed, pulling out of the Starbucks parking lot and heading towards home. “Maybe with that attitude. Don’t worry, we’ll pull a win out of this. We always do! Did I tell you about the time we dropped a house on a dragon?”

Gray shook his head and Natsu launched into the story, complete with wild hand gestures and sound effects. He could feel Gray’s gaze on him as he listened intently, even when the retelling took several unexpected detours. It made something warm grow in Natsu’s chest. Most people in his life were used to his rambling, chalking it up to his ADHD and excitable nature. They usually tuned him out after a while, though, or nodded along while drifting off to something else.

Gray listened, though. He’d shifted in his seat to face Natsu, knee tucked under his leg, coffee held between both hands, and Natsu could feel the deliberate way he followed Natsu’s words. It made Natsu feel important.

He’d just wrapped up another story where they had accidentally created a super-intelligent zombie when both of their phones pinged.

“It’s Sting,” Gray said. “So sorry guys, I can’t make it tonight, work called me in last minute. Can we reschedule for next week?”

Natsu felt a flood of disappointment wash through him as he glanced over at Gray, whose brow was furrowed as he stared at his phone. He was so cute – he had gotten his eyebrow pierced at some point during the week, and it made him even more adorable.

“Well,” Natsu said, chewing on his lip. “That sucks.”

An awkward silence filled the car. Natsu really didn’t want to drive Gray home – he’d been waiting all week to see him, and when Natsu had picked him up, the shy smile Gray had given him had made Natsu feel breathless.

“Well, I don’t—did you wanna, uh…” Gray trailed off, tugging at a loose thread from the hole in his jeans. “I mean I don’t have any, uh, plans? Obviously, since we had—I mean, so maybe we, um, we could…”

“They put all the Lord of the Rings movies on Netflix,” Natsu said quickly, before he could chicken out. For once he was glad for the lack of filter between his brain and his mouth. “Wanna get takeout and watch one of them?”

Before the anxiety could set in, Gray glanced up and gave him a soft smile. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”

Gray’s favorite food turned out to be sushi.

“You’ve never had sashimi before?” he asked once they’d gotten back to Natsu’s place and unpacked the takeout onto the living room table.

“Is that the rice?” Natsu asked as he settled down cross-legged on the floor. “Or the fish?”

“The fish,” Gray said, pointing at the slices of raw salmon. “It’s good, I promise.”

Natsu gave him a dubious look, then frowned at the chopsticks that Gray handed him. “You’re gonna think I’m totally uncultured,” he said as he peeled off the wrapper, “but I’ve never used chopsticks.”

“It’s not hard,” Gray reassured him. Natsu fumbled with the wooden sticks, glaring at them as he tried to get them to move. “Here,” Gray said, moving closer to Natsu and reaching out for his hands. “Like this.”

Natsu’s breath caught in his throat when Gray’s fingers touched his, settling the chopsticks between them and showing him where his thumb should go. Gray’s hands were cold, and each small touch made Natsu’s heart jump. His cheeks flushed hot when he dropped the chopsticks again, and this time it had nothing to do with clumsiness.

“I, uh, might have to stick to forks,” Natsu said with a nervous laugh. Gray was close enough to him that he could smell his shampoo – something light and fruity that made Natsu want to lean in and run his fingers through Gray’s hair. It looked so soft.

As if reading Natsu’s thoughts, Gray pushed his hair out of his eyes and tucked it behind his ear. Natsu’s eyes followed the movement, and when Gray’s gaze met his, he quickly looked back down at the food, hoping the heat in his cheeks wasn’t visible.

“That’s okay,” Gray said, and it took Natsu a second to realize that he was talking about the chopsticks and not the staring. “You can eat the rolls with your fingers.” He pointed at the second container. “Those ones don’t have fish in them. Just yams.”

“I’ll try the fish,” Natsu said before he could stop himself. He was glad Sting wasn’t here to tell Gray that Natsu had sworn off seafood ten years ago after going fishing with their grandfather and crying when he’d had to gut the salmon they’d caught.

It ended up being better than he’d expected, despite the strange texture.

“I haven’t had sushi in a while,” Gray admitted once they were done the meal. “I ate it every day in Japan.”

“You lived in Japan?” Natsu asked as he stuffed the styrofoam containers back into the plastic bags.

Gray nodded. “Yeah, I was there for an exchange program for a year. I’m from Montréal originally, though.” The soft way he said the word let Natsu finally place the soft accent he’d noticed every once in a while. Of course Gray was bilingual. Was there anything about him that wasn’t perfect?

“That’s awesome,” Natsu said. “When did you move here?”

“Six months ago, for school.” Gray crossed his legs, tucking his feet underneath him as he shifted on the couch cushion. “It’s really different here.”

“I can imagine,” Natsu said. “Have you made it down to Gastown yet? Rogue likes sushi and he says there’s lots of good places down there.”

“Oh, no, I haven’t.” Gray smiled as Natsu’s cat Happy hopped up onto the couch and rubbed himself against Gray’s legs. “I, um… I haven’t really been out too much. By myself.” He ran his finger behind Happy’s ears, who purred happily. “I’m a little—I get kind of anxious. Sometimes. To go alone.”

“I could take you,” Natsu offered before he could stop himself. “There’s so many places here you’d love – Granville Island’s amazing, they’ve got markets and this awesome café, and you’d probably like the art gallery there too. And if you haven’t been to the beach – well, beaches, there’s so many of them, and if you go to Stanley Park you can walk or take a bike, and there’s a…” He trailed off at the overwhelmed expression on Gray’s face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I’d like that,” Gray said, keeping his eyes fixed on Happy as a small smile crept across his face. “To go, I mean. With you.”

“Oh.” Natsu couldn’t hold in a grin. “Cool. It’s a date, then.”

Gray finally looked up at him and Natsu’s cheeks flushed when he realized what he’d said. Before Gray could reply, Natsu grabbed the remote from the table and thrust it into Gray’s hands.

“You can, uh, pick one. Of the movies,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet. “On Netflix. I’m gonna make popcorn.”

Natsu darted into the kitchen and exhaled, rubbing his face. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket.

holy pain in the ass: you’d better be on a date, loser

Natsu groaned – of course Sting had done this on purpose, the asshole.

pyro-manic: you’re a jackass and a liar

holy pain in the ass: i think you mean ‘you’re welcome’

Natsu glared at the screen for a minute, trying to come up with something witty but eventually just shoving his phone back in his pocket.

When he headed back into the living room with the popcorn, Gray was still petting Happy, who had curled up in his lap and was purring contentedly. He’d taken off his hoodie and had rolled the sleeves of his World of Warcraft shirt up just enough that Natsu could see the never tell me the odds tattoo that wound around his wrist.

Natsu tried not to stare. Everything about Gray made him feel like he was thirteen with his first crush all over again. He’d dated other people before, obviously, but none of them were quite like Gray. There was something about him – a shy but carefree enthusiasm for the things he loved that drew Natsu in. It didn’t matter what kind of pop culture references Natsu made, Gray picked up on all of them. He could finish the movie quotes Natsu had memorized, knew all the best cards in Magic, had seen every anime that Natsu loved, and didn’t even tease him about his taste in music.

Natsu’s phone buzzed in his pocket again, drawing him out of his thoughts, and he ignored what he was sure was another text from Sting.

“I hope you don’t mind the subtitles,” Natsu said to Gray, gesturing at the screen as he sat down next to – but not quite touching – Gray. “I always have them on. It’s like, a thing, with my ADHD – auditory processing something? It just makes it hard to catch everything sometimes, the subtitles help.”

Gray nodded, scratching behind Happy’s ears. “It doesn’t bother me,” he said. “I usually have them on, too. It helped me when I was learning English.”

“Awesome.” Natsu took the remote and hit ‘play,’ then settled back against the couch as ‘Fellowship of the Ring’ started to play.

Natsu was glad he’d seen the movie at least ten times, because the only thing he could focus on was Gray. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sting’s text, about the word date, about the fact that he hadn’t felt like this about anyone in years. Natsu’s life was full of people – he was outgoing by nature – but none of them made him feel like Gray did.

They finished the popcorn quickly and Natsu leaned forward to set the bowl on the coffee table. When he settled back into the couch, he was certain Gray leaned into him a little. He held his breath, shifting as if to get comfortable, and ended up right next to Gray with their shoulders pressed together. It sent a thrill through Natsu and he tried his best to ignore the part of him that insisted he was not a teenager anymore and it was silly to get worked up over this. He tried to focus on the movie instead.

“You have my sword,” Aragon said on screen.

“And you have my bow.”

“And my axe.”

“And my vuvuzela,” Gray murmured absently.

Natsu burst out laughing, immediately struck by the ridiculous video he hadn’t seen since in years. “Oh my god,” he said, nudging Gray’s shoulder with his as Gray’s cheeks turned pink. “You’re such a dork.” Before Gray could take offense, he added, “In a good way. I know exactly what you’re talking about and now I’m gonna have that song stuck in my head for the rest of the night.”

Gray laughed. “I just can’t take that scene seriously anymore,” he admitted. “My sister and I used to watch all of these movies on Christmas and quote along to it… it got pretty silly. And took forever ‘cause we’d watch all the extended editions in one sitting.” He played with his necklace as he talked, keeping his eyes on the screen.

Natsu was about to ask why they didn’t do it anymore but stopped himself when he remembered what Sting had mentioned when he’d first invited Gray to join D&D. Gray’s sister had died unexpectedly just before he’d moved here, and Gray didn’t like talking about it.

“We can watch them all if you want,” Natsu offered instead. Gray’s expression shifted and Natsu wasn’t quite sure what it meant – he was hard to read even when they weren’t talking about personal things. But then the corner of his lip curled up in a tiny smile and he nodded.

“If you can sit still that long,” he teased.

Natsu laughed. “Yeah, I might end up upside-down or something at some point. But that’s okay.”

Gray’s smile got a little wider. “I’d like that,” he said softly.

“Okay,” Natsu said. He tried his best to keep a huge grin from creeping across his face. “Cool. Yeah. Me too.”

Natsu managed to sit fairly still until about halfway through ‘The Two Towers.’ They’d had plenty of breaks – including one where they’d pulled up ‘They’re Taking the Hobbits to Isengard’ on Gray’s phone and sang along until they were both laughing hysterically – but it was getting difficult to not fidget. He was about to ask if they could take another quick break when Gray shifted and the back of his hand brushed Natsu’s.

Natsu immediately froze, all restless thoughts banished from his head as he focused on the sensation of Gray’s knuckles against his. They’d been moving closer and further apart all evening, bumping shoulders and knees, but this didn’t feel like an accidental touch. Something about it was deliberate, and this time Gray wasn’t moving away.

Heat sparked in Natsu’s stomach and he stared down at their hands, hoping to hell that he wasn’t misreading Gray’s intentions as he returned the touch. He heard Gray’s soft intake of breath, and several nearly unbearable seconds passed before Gray shifted closer and slid their fingers together. He was warm against Natsu’s side, and when he carefully tipped his head onto Natsu’s shoulder, Natsu was certain that Gray could hear the frantic slamming of his heart.

He exhaled as quietly as he could as he ran his thumb down the side of Gray’s hand, enjoying the soft noise that Gray made in response. His hair tickled Natsu’s cheek, soft and fine, and when Natsu rested his cheek against the top of Gray’s head, Gray hummed happily and cuddled closer.

The uncertainty that had been following Natsu around all night immediately vanished as he let himself relax against Gray, squeezing his hand gently as they pressed against each other. It felt so right. Natsu hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d cuddled anyone until they were both comfortable and breathing in tandem. He felt more relaxed than he had in years.

The movie kept playing but Natsu barely paid attention. His brain, always in overdrive, immediately started to whether or not he should kiss Gray, if that was moving too fast, if he should maybe put his arm around Gray or whether or not that would be a cheesy high school romcom move. Gray solved the issue a few minutes later by stretching and nudging Natsu’s arm up, then curling up against him.

“I can hear you thinking,” Gray said quietly as the battle for Helm’s Deep raged on in the background. “Or panicking. I can’t tell.”

“I’m not panicking.” Natsu wasn’t sure if he was lying or not.

“Okay.” Gray rested his head against Natsu’s collarbone. “Good.”

The movie came to an end not long after that, but Gray didn’t move. He ran his fingers up Natsu’s arm instead, touching the scar that Natsu had gotten after a motorcycle mishap years ago. Gray traced patterns between Natsu’s freckles, then ran his hand back down and touched Natsu’s palm.

“Are we—”

“Is this—”

They both laughed as they talked at the same time, and Gray shifted until he was looking up at Natsu and they were nearly cheek-to-cheek. Warmth sparked in Natsu’s stomach and he leaned in, nudging Gray’s nose with his own. There was a moment of anticipation where neither of them moved, and then Gray closed the distance and pressed their lips together.

The heat in Natsu’s chest spread as Gray kissed him, rushing across his cheeks and down to his fingertips. He made a soft sound, tipping his head and pulling Gray closer until they were facing each other. Slowly, he reached out and brushed Gray’s hair out of his face, running his fingers through the silky strands. It was just as soft as it looked.

When Gray finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed pink and he didn’t quite meet Natsu’s eyes.

“I, um…” He bit his lip uncertainly.

“I really like you,” Natsu said quickly before he could change his mind. “Like. A lot.”

“Oh.” A small smile worked its way across Gray’s face. “Good. I like you too. Also a lot.”

Natsu laughed, leaning back in and kissing Gray’s nose. “Sting did this on purpose,” he said, gesturing to his phone that was sitting on the coffee table. “He’s an idiot, but I’m kinda glad he did.”

“Me too.”

Natsu ran his fingers through Gray’s hair again, then pulled him in for another kiss. It was soft and sweet, but Natsu’s stomach still sparked with excitement at the touch. Gray was warm everywhere they pressed together, and Natsu never wanted to let go.

Gray pressed one more kiss to Natsu’s lips, then his cheek, then pressed their foreheads together. “I haven’t dated anyone in a long time,” he admitted, cheeks flushed pink. “I just… can we take it slow?”

“Of course,” Natsu said quickly. He kissed the tip of Gray’s nose. “I’m just happy to—I like spending time with you. And kissing. That’s good—great—too. Really great.”

Gray laughed, squeezing Natsu’s hand and kissing him again. Then he looked back at the TV screen where Netflix was suggesting ‘Return of the King’ as their next film.

“You wanna keep watching?” Natsu asked. “I promised you a marathon.” He looked at the clock, which already read 2:47 a.m.

“Yes? But I know you have to work tomorrow.”

“It’s okay,” Natsu reassured him, grinning. “I actually took tomorrow off because today was supposed to be our last D&D session and I thought it might take all night. Plus, I’m not tired.” He kissed Gray’s cheek again. “Maybe just a little distracted.”

“Just a little?” Gray ran his fingers through Natsu’s hair and surprised him by tugging on it gently.

“Maybe a lot,” Natsu admitted. He ran his hand down Gray’s side, then pulled him closer until he was almost in Natsu’s lap. “But I’m okay with it.”

They both fell asleep on the couch before ‘Return of the King’ was over. When they woke up the next morning in each other’s arms, Gray blushed furiously, but eagerly returned Natsu’s morning kisses.

“I guess I’d better get you home,” Natsu said as he ran his fingers through the tangles in Gray’s hair. “You’ve got class soon, hey?”

Gray nodded. “I’d rather stay here,” he admitted.

“Look, I’m happy to kiss you all day, but I’m also not gonna be the reason you fail your classes.”

Gray raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll have you know that I have a 4.0 GPA.”

“Guess I’m dating a genius then, huh?” Natsu paused. “Are we? Dating? I mean, is that what you wanna—”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Natsu grinned, kissing Gray’s nose, then nudged him off the couch. “C’mon,” he said as he sat up and stretched. “Let’s get you some coffee and get you home.”

Natsu’s pantry was nearly empty, so they stopped for coffee and bagels and ate quietly on the drive back to Gray’s place, holding hands across the console. When they pulled into the dorm parking lot, Natsu let go regretfully and leaned over for a kiss.

“See you on Sunday?” he asked, then shook his head. “No, that’s too long. How about Tuesday? I can take you to Gastown and show you around.”

Gray’s face lit up and he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, smiling shyly at Natsu and squeezing his fingers. “I’d like that.”

“Perfect.” Natsu kissed him again, tasting coffee on his lips. “It’s a date.”

#fairy tail #gratsu #natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster #fanfic #ft fanfic #d&d #dungeons & dragons #fluff #adhd natsu #geek gray #new chapter #update #my fic

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occasionallyish--archive · 3 years ago

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Whenever I'm getting tired of a maladaptive daydream series that's been going on in my head for a while, I either kill my character off or kill somebody important to them off or make them fall into obscurity– Except I literally cannot do that with yesterday's daydream so I decided why not write it all down?

In this current daydream, I'm the elusive leader of some underground organization literally called The Underground. Set 5-6 years after the current ongoins of BNHA, we essentially help people disappear from the eyes of the public(and the government!)– Whether they be ex-villains or ex-felons or civilians that just want a new life, we're happy to help. We host these huge, monthly, elaborate charity parties so that we can get funds and also donate some of those funds to other organizations dedicated to the homeless and the hungry! Also, I'm Dabi's best friend and he's my right hand man. After establishing all of this, I kinda of hit a roadblock as to where I wanted to turn, so I had my villainous ex-lover invade one of these parties and hold me at gunpoint.

Except... This was getting interesting! I decided I didn't wanna die just yet. So we go back, do a bit of rewriting– And decide that various heroes (MindJack, FreezerBurn, Cellophane, 30-y/o Hawks for some reason) were getting these threatening letters all about "dispose of him or I will" sharing things like the time and place of the party that dearest ex-lover invades. They come in just to see what's up with the place– Maybe provide some protection for this random guy that's getting death threats– and everything goes as it did originally, except with added pressure because these hero guys are there for my protection! So anyway that goes on and like a month or some other semi-short while goes by and I've been established as friends with the heroes and now I've decided "let's just have a semi-flirty friendship with Hawks and call it a day!"

Except, well, I decided with all the ideas flooding my brain I should just put a stop to em and turn to another daydream. And so, why not kill off Dabi and make me disappear off the face of the earth??? Yeahhhhh,,,, So Dabi goes missing for a while and somehow my guy Hawks get intel on where we may be able to find him so I tag along with a couple of heroes on what could be a rescue mission. And just as I say something stupid like, "Oh yeah, he can hold his own! He'll be fine :)" we slide open the doors to this werehouse and there he is... On the ground...... Heavily bleeding and Very Well Dying :(. I go to him and sob and he's on the brink of death when he tells me to just keep on talking to him. So I tell him how he's my closest friend in the history of ever. And I tell him I love him. And I tell him stories from my life before I became immersed in The Underground, and his last words to me before he stops breathing are a little laugh and an amused little, "You're such a dumbass." The ambulance gets there but it's too late. A week later, I'm hit with the press asking about my relationship with the former villain, and how I feel regarding his death... I respond "He was my best friend. And I loved him. And I'm sad. Is that enough for the tabloids?" And then after that interview I announce I'm taking a sabbatical from life, leave The Underground in the hands of a trusted friend (either Mustard or an oc of mine called Akira), and disappear off the face of the Earth

Except, ohoho, this was truly getting interesting! So I decided, 6 months later, I'd reappear from nowhere. And how do I make my entrance? A surprise, truly. I'm taller, I'm bolder, I'm happier than I've been in a long time– And I walk right into a party as hosted by whomever currently runs The Underground. A number of my hero friends are there. I walk right up to the host, get a hug from him, dismissively explain that I was just "far away" and that I'd be happy to reposses the responsibilities of The Underground in a month or so– Because I want another little while to live a little bit less stressfully, but surrounded by all my people. After a talk with the host, I find Hawks– We exchange snarky comments and he tells me he thought I was joking when I said I'd be taking a break from life. I tell him "Well, now ya know" and then he teases me about how a certain someone is staring. I laugh and raise a brow– Then he tells me how one Hanta Sero has been calling him every other week, asking if there's been any updates on my status. How Sero's been antsy to see me again. How he's worried. I laugh and roll my eyes like he's just teasing, but then he tells me to look to my left or smth and I do and... I lock eyes with tape man. He chokes on whatever he's drinking. I go to him and we get to talking and maybe a bit of flirting– I can't not tease him mercilessly. I go a little bit more in detail about my whereabouts– "Exploring my roots, and all that. Going 'round the world in 6 months." He calls me pretty and I ask if he's flirting, to which he confirms. I laugh and explain, "Well, pretty boy, a lifetime ago, I told myself I'd never get with anybody whose job had 'potential death' in the description– Heroes included." He pouts, but he understands. "Except, maybe let me get to know you more. I'd be willing to rewrite my rules, if you can show me it's worth it." An outing and a couple dates later, Sero unexpectedly ends up in the hospital

But I didn't wanna kill him off lol, I love him too much! So, I say that, in the line of duty, he fractures his knee or smth. But thanks to quirks and modern technology, they can fix it! I rush in and I'm worried but I'm assured it's all good. By the time he's cleared to go home, he's looped up on painkillers and his hero friends are conveniently back on the job and since he probably shouldn't be left alone, I'm left to take him! I take him home and we sleep and when we wake up, we're cuddlin or something cliche like that. He looks at me and all he sees is beauty, and he just.. Stares, for a while. But then I wake up, and I feel that spark, and I cup his cheeks in my hands. We stare at eachother, and after a second, we share a kiss to remember. Later I tell him that I want to kiss and I want to hold hands, but I don't want to put a full committment into it– Not until I have my full job back and we figure out if we can both handle the stress of that. And he understands. So, soon I've got full ownership of The Underground again. I host a party and people can see me n tape man are unusually close, this time. In the next party, we hold hands– He gets all nervous and I tell him, "At this point, darling, if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind if you shouted our relarionship out to this whole room." The party after that, he has to come in late because he was away at a convention or smth and his flight was delayed. He makes a big show of running up to me and scooping me in his arms and finally, officially announcing our relationship with another kiss to remember. We're together for years, after that. He moves in with me, we get a cat, he regularly even helps with managing The Underground. Life is good. And then for some reason I get shot.

Then, we're in the hospital room– I wake up to him at my bedside, hair messy and eyebags prominent and worry-lines creased in his face. He's kind of rambling, talking about whatever comes to mind. I move to grab his hand, sending a smile his way. He smiles back and takes a deep breath, before lifting my hand up to kiss my knuckles. We greet eachother with loving little "Hey."s. He tells me the guy that shot me is locked up and won't hurt me again. He tells me he knew I'd pull through, but that he was worried I'd be permanently hurt. I told him I probably would be. The mood gets heavy, but then I kind of tug on his hand and give him a goofy smile, "By the way..." He raises a brow and suddenly the mood is lightened, when I hum out a lighthearted yet serious "Let's get married, Hanta"

Anyway this is the only daydream in which I haven't been able to die... So I decided I'd just write it down and say that we ended on a good note! Because I can't really juggle multiple daydreams, and ideas tend to come daily so I always have something different to work with. Never get bored, ykyk? And no way am I letting this kinda awesome Sero brainrot burn me outta good content for myself

Or I'll just get sniped during the wedding ceremony lol I don't know if my character is op enough to come back from that–

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #the great big book of ideas #death #guns #tw death #tw guns #death tw #guns tw #swearing #tw swearing #long post #big text #tw big text #big text tw

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hobbitsnapes · 4 years ago

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The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 16

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @tyuuniverse)

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @comic-brew @psychovigilantewrites @psych0crybaby

Days go by, and each one sandy feels more comfortable being here. Now coming out each day of her room. No longer staying in feeling as though she’s trapped inside the room like the rest of the manor was hell. Most of her days she’d frequent the garden, walking around and taking in the beautiful flowers and trees.

But the majority of her time was spent in tims room. Having grown a friendship with the insomniac. But she couldn’t really say anything, due to usually coming in at the wea hours of the night to the earliest of the day.

And that’s where she found herself, at the early hour of 3:57 AM hanging upside down on tims bed with him beside her.

“why do they make decaffeinated coffee? Who does that help?” He asks. The pair hadn’t said a word in minutes. “People who like coffee but not the caffeine. Or Constipated people.” She replies. Tim nodding his reddening face due to the blood flow from being upside down. “Do you think the ocean is so salty because of whale sperm?” She asks, making him laugh. “Where in the fuck do you think of these things?” He asks, still laughing. Sandy pulls herself up, Tim following in suit. “I could ask you the same question.” She asks. They both lay back on the bed this time, heads fitting comfortably against the plush blankets. “Wanna play a game?” He asks, she tunes to him, “I want to play a game.” She says in a deep voice. This causes Tim to roll his eyes. “Okay jiggy. Let’s play 20 questions.”

“Most embarrassing story?” She asks. “The time everyone went out and I popped a hard on and the thug laughed thinking it was because of him. When in reality it was cause I was young and couldn’t control them.” This caused sandy to let out a large laugh, dubling over clutching her stomach. “Alright alright alright, it’s my turn to ask.” Tim chuckles. Her eyes look up at him, nodding her head slightly. “Favorite memory?” He asks. Her brow furrows as she looks to the side. Eyes slightly squinted. “I have 2 that I can’t pick between.” She sighs. “Then tell me what they are.” Tim says.

She pauses for a moment, looking back over to him. Letting out a large breath. “My 8th birthday. My dad was always busy but would always make sure to come into my room each night, and if I wasn’t asleep, he'd take me out to our living room, and with my mom we’d all take a huge blanket and all the pillows and make a huge heap on our couch. Most nights we’d end up falling asleep together. Sometimes we’d watch a movie or they’d tell me a bedtime story. Each one was different from the last. Well that night my dad brought me out into our living room, he took the day off to spend it with me. And he said to sit there by myself and wait patiently. So o did, and after 10 minutes my mom and dad came out.” She starts laughing as she’s speaking, trying to calm herself down to tell the rest. “T-they both came out in what I think was an 80s rendition of the Renaissance. They then gave me a dress to put on, along with a crown. The dress was a ball gown that was white with light blue lace, it also had small pearls on it. The crown was beautiful, it almost looked real with the shine of the diamonds and sapphires. We then spent the rest of the night dancing, to anything that played. We then all got in my parents bed, and they held me until we all fell asleep.” A tear fell down her eye, wiping it away almost immediately after it cascaded down her face. An ache reasoned within her heart at the fond memory. “The next one had to be at the fair with Jaso. I hadn’t been there with him long. I don’t even think it was a month at that point. He, he really was trying. I saw every attempt he made to get closer with me, and each time I’d pretend I didn’t notice or not be interested and go to my room. God, my room. I hated it at first. It was originally the weapon room, he has removed all of them but it was almost completely bare.”

Both of them step into the small room, both silent apart from their breathing.

Jason had gotten all of the guns, the knives, anything out of the room when she took a shower. Both just meeting an hour prior.

She eyes around the mostly bare room. A small cot bed was nestled into the corner of the room, along with a small bedside table with a lamp on top of it. Apart from those, dark curtains cover the window. The floorboards were bare, cold on her feet. “I’m sorry about the bed. I-I can have you take mine if you’d like?” He asks her. She looks over at him, seeing the panic in his face. “No no, this is more than enough. Thank you.” She says, looking down at the large t-shirt that hung below to her boney knees. “Do you need anything? I have some books, I don’t have a tv here but-“ she looks up at him, his rambling stopping. “I’m honestly really tired right now.” She says. “Alright, get some rest.” He says.

He walks to the door, but stops. “Thank you, um?” She says, her eyes scrunching slightly. “Jason. Jason Todd.”

A tear slipped down both her eyes, but was snapped out of it when she felt tims hand on her shoulder. She wipes both away and looked up at him, his face contorted in worry. “Sorry, but back to what I was saying. The fair was amazing, we had so much fun playing all the games, riding most of the rides, and the others I watched biting my nails as I watched him go on the extreme ones. God I, I felt like he was my actual dad, and that we were just normal father and daughter going to the fair for the first time. I finally felt like there was some normalcy in my life, that I could just be a kid again. I, I didn’t feel guilty. Each time he would try bonding with me, it killed me because I felt like I was replacing my parents with him. That I shouldn’t bond with another person because it’s not fair to my actual parents.” Small tracks of tears fell down her face, no longer trying to wipe them away. “But that day, I felt like my parents wanted me to. They wanted me to feel like a kid, to have fun again. I felt them with me that day, and that was also the day I started slowly seeing him as my dad.” Her tears had dried at this point, having been replaced with a smile. Fond memories of the day played through her mind. No longer a pain in her heart, but a warmth flooded through her as she remembers one of the best days of her life. “Alright, my turn. Why Red Robin? And why not add him to the end of it?” She asked, a smirk on her face. “Oh for fucks sake.” A large laughter reasoned throughout the room.

“Then when I came in to tell Bruce what happened he was balls deep blowing her back out on the-“ Tim was cut off from laughing so hard, both him and sandy laying on his bed clutching their chests due to the heavens of their laughter. It had been some time, the sun started creeping over the trees for a few minutes at that point.

They both lay there as their laughter started to die down, that is until footsteps were heard walking by. Sandy abruptly stopped laughing, turning to the door with wide eyes and tensed muscles. Her heart fell but Accelerated to the point of it being painful, until the door remained closed and the footsteps drifted away. She felt a hand on her shoulder, turning back to Tim. Worry overtook his face. “It’s alright, he doesn’t even come in here anyways.” A large sigh escaped her as she ducked her head down. “I know, I just can’t help but get worried whenever I hear him.” She says, a frown painted on her lips. Tim brought her in for a hug, wrapping her in his arms and rubbing his hands along her back. Her head rested on his shoulder as small tracks of tears fell down her cheeks.

“Alright, last question.” Tim says, looking over to her as she played with the strings on her jacket. She turns her head to him, looking into his eyes as her heart speeds up, the fear of the question but the Curiosity outwayung her fear. “Why does my dad not y’all to you guys? He told me he was robin, and that he was killed. But he never said what happened besides that?” She asks softly, her brows slightly furrowed. A sigh leaves Tim as he looks away. “It’s, complicated. It’s not my place to tell. But I will tell you, it came after what happened to him.”

Dick sighs as he puts his head in his hands. His brow furrowed as lips in a tight line. He pulls at his hair, meshing his hands into knots into it. “God what am I gonna do?” He whispers to himself.

He paces back and forth along the floor. Eying his feet as he bites at his nails. It’s a bad habit he developed as a child, but with the help of Alfred he stopped it for the most part. That is unless he’s very stressed. Sometimes he’ll chew them raw, pain coating the tips of his fingers for days. A knock at the door abruptly stopping him, looking over to it but seeing nothing. Could it have been another room? He wonders.

He walks over to it and opens it, and looking out and meeting sandy standing there. She was clad in a an oversized sweater and high waisted jeans. “Hey, you need anything?” He asks, curious as to why she had knocked at the door. “I heard you pacing when I was walking by. I got worried if you were alright is all.” She replies. Worry taking over her face. He sighs, and steps to the side to let her in.

“Yes and no. I, I’m planning on proposing to barabara in a few days. I’m so excited for it. But I have no idea how to do it.” He sighs. Head again in his hands as he stairs beside her. Dick had moved out long ago, but would still sometimes stay at the manor if he was needed. Him and sandy had bonded slightly over the past 2 weeks she had been there. While most of her time was spent with Tim, she did a few times come to spend time with the eldest of the brothers. They both would usually discus her father, his embarrassing stories when he was young. Or her love for ballet. Dick promising her that he’ll come by to practice with her sometime. “Alright, you want some advice?” She replies, raising her brow slightly at him. “Sure, whatcha got?”

“So you guys met on top of the police department?” She asks. Her brow raised as she asks. “Yes, it was one of my first nights as robin.” Memories flooding through his mind from the memory. She sells her hands together with a wide smile. “There you go! Ask her there!” She exclaims happily. A chuckle leaving dick. “Elaborate please?”

“Tell her to meet you up there. And have ready a small table with dinner, wine, and candles. The whole 9 yards. Then, ask her there. It is after all where you guys met. It’s a special place for the both of you. I promise she’ll love it.” She says with a smile. “What if she says no? We haven’t always been the model couple. What if she doesn’t want to marry me?” He asks. Fear and doubt eating heavy in his chest. She puts a hand on his shoulder, with a warm smile on her face. “How long have you guys been back together?” “The day I plan on asking her will make 5 years.” A smile taking over his face. “And how long in total has she been by you?” A laugh leaving him briefly at the question. “Well over a decade at this point.” A large smile taking over both their faces. “That’s your answer. She’s been by your side through everything. And to this day she stays and loves you. I see the way she looks at you. It’s the same look my mom looked at my dad with. She loves you so much, and I know that she’ll be so happy to marry you.” A small tear leaves his eye. He looks over to her, tears brimming her eyes. He pulls her into a large hug, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Thank you. You really are an angel.”

The small ticks of the computers, along with the heavy noise of the waterfall nearly drown out the sound of the tumbler. The chill in the room increasing tenfold due to the opening of the large cave to the cold outside. She turns away from the boxing bag, removing her gloves. She watches as dick exits first, following along with Tim in the back. A dull ache resins within her when Damian exits. Turning her head away before he saw her. Hearing his footsteps head for the showers.

She starts walking over to Tim, eying him over at the med table stripping the top of his suit off. A cut ran along his left peck. Only scraping the skin and no muscle, with the blood nearly gone and congealed slightly. It looked to not need any stitching, just s good clean and bandage.

A grunt was heard behind her, taking her focus away from Alfred cleaning up tims wound.

She turns around and spots Bruce, he was lugging boxes out of the tumbler over to the computer desks. She ran over and grabbed a box herself, bringing it over to the table and going back over to help him. “You don’t have to, I've got it.” Bruce replies, his voice strained slightly. Sweat poured down his ghostly white face. Worry struck her as she watched as he had a hard time taking the box in his arms. “I wanna help. I didn’t go out tonight so the least I can do is help bring in the information.” She replies back. Eying him closely the entire time.

A groan leaves him as he picks up another box, stumbling slightly and dropping the box. Worry floods her as she watches him. Dropping her box on the table and running over. “Hey hey hey. What’s going on?” She asks. She notices His hand clutching his side. She removes it to see blood covering his hand. “Hey it’s gonna be okay.” She says. Taking her jacket off and handing it to him. “Apply this to it and I’ll be right back.” She runs over to the end station, grabbing the first aid kit along with anything else she needs and runs back over. She kneels down to him, taking out the scissors and cutting the top of his suit off. She slips the top of his suit off, gently removing his hand from the wound. It didn’t look to be internally deep, no ripped muscles were shown and the blood looked external rather than coming internally. The skin was torn slightly, but overall it didn’t appear to be life threatening. She slips on a pair of gloves and grabs a bottle of saline solution “It doesn’t look that bad, but I am gonna do some stitches okay? Do you want me to numb it?” She asks. Her face no longer full of worry. “No need, I barely feel them now.” She nods her head to him. She soaks the wound in the saline, the water running down his side onto the floor. She dabs it slightly with gauze and soaks the area a couple more times until the water ran to a light pink. She applies the gauze to the area, having him hold it as she soaks the suture in alcohol. She pulls the skin together, and locates the center of the cut. Slowly pulling the needle through the first part of the skin to the other side, then out the wound, back through the wound on the other side and out the skin. She pulls the skin together again and ties it off with a double knot. She works back toward the edge placing a new suture halfway between the end of the gash and the closest stitch. “You’re doing a great job at this.” He says, eying her as she slowly makes the next stitch. “Thanks, if I had a penny for the amount of times I’ve had to stitch my dad up, I’d be richer than you in a year.” She jokes back. Causing a smile to grow on his face. “My actual dad was also a surgeon. I guess I got his doctor's hands.” She chuckles. Bruce’s brow furrows. “What was his name?” He asks. “Hal hawks. He was a surgeon here in Gotham.” A sad smile on her face when she said his name. “I remember him. I had gone to him for a shattered kneecap a few years ago. Doctors said I wouldn’t be able to walk again. But your dad did the surgery and I was walking in no time. He was a good man.” A tear slipped down from her eye at his reply. “They both are. Look, I don’t know what happened between you and my dad. But he’s a great father. With everything that’s happened to me in the last few years, I would give up my life for him for everything he’s done for me.” A sigh leave him as he looks at her, Tara brimming her eyes. “If I know one thing, it’s that Jason is a good man. And a good father. He’s exactly the kind of father for you. And I couldn’t be happier.”

The room was almost completely dark, the only light coming from the full moon shining in through the blinds. She tossed and turned, not being able to find a comfortable position to lay in. Her mind wouldn’t calm down, racing heavily on multiple things. Glancing over to her bedside table, and reading it was 4:26 in the morning. A sigh leaving her as she sits up in bed. She knew Tim would be up, this time usually being their time they go to each other’s rooms to either watch a movie, play a game, or sometimes paperwork.

Slipping out of bed and over to her closet, grabbing a robe and slipping it on. The silk inside felt warm to her exposed skin. Having only wearing a pair of underwear underneath.She wasn’t worried about wearing this around him. Having worn this before when he came to her room and he never once tried anything or even taken a glance. She suspected she knew the reason as to why, but not quite sure if it was true. Her room would get quite hot in the night. With the cold weather outside the heat would be cranked up higher during the night. This causing her to strip almost to the nude as to not sweat all night. Walking out of her door she was met with the chilled air of the hallway. A shiver ran up her spine. Her feet almost feeling painful against the cold wood.

She starts her way over to his room down the other end of the hallway. But stopping abruptly at the door opening to her side. Her stomach dropping as she’s met with damian towering over her. Shock takes over both their faces briefly as they just stand there. They were frozen in place, hearts beating so heavily they were sure the other could hear it. Their eyes just locked into one another’s. They both tear their eyes away as she looks down from his gaze. Another shiver ran through her. He was shirtless. His tan skin glistening with a fine layer of sweat, probably due to the heating. Clad in only sweatpants that stopped at just above his v line. His chest rose and fell fast due to his heavy breathing. His hair was messy. No longer slicked back and straight. Now a mass of soft curls that puffed slightly. She’d almost say he looked cute. But pain shoots through her heart when the thought played in her mind. His eyes were locked on her. Her hair had grown ever slightly since the last time he saw it. The blank locks soft curls around her face. A feeling of electricity flowed through him along with warmth when he looked at what she was wearing. Or lack thereof. She wore a thin ivory colored robe. The thinness of the silk laid against her soft skin. His heart sped up when he noticed she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Her breasts were framed against the silk. Her skin looking as soft as a petal. From the cold of the hallway, he could clearly see her nipples poking out of the fabric. His body now hot as he fought with himself as to not grab a hold of her to feel her skin against his again. A fire slightly burning inside him as he looks at her.

His mouth was slightly open, as if he was about to speak but couldn’t.“I was just going-“ “to drakes room. I know.” He cuts her off. His usual hard voice sounding tired and deadpan. She looked up at him again. His face was blank, but his eyes showed a slight strain in them. “Can’t sleep?” She asks. Her voice an almost whisper. He closes his eyes and nods. “Yeah.” He whispers. His eyes slightly crinkled. “Do, do you need anything? Are you alright?” She asks. Her voice slightly wavering. Her heart aching as she looks up at him. Tears wanting to spill from her eyes. His eyes shut tighter. “I’m good. Goodnight.” He whispers. His face in pain as she shuts the door. A tear slipping down her face.

A quietness filled the large room as everyone finished their plates, all of them apart from her and Alfred bid their goodnights and thank yous to the butler before walking to their rooms. She watches as he stacked some of the plates, his hands shaking slightly under the weight. “Hey, why don’t you let me do the washing up tonight.” She asks. Her eyes hopeful as she eyes the elderly butler. “Oh it’s perfectly fine miss-“ “please, you always do it for us. And I know it’s your job but, I wanna do it and help around here.” She says. She puts her hand against his shoulder. A warm smile on her face. “Alright miss Todd. Thank you.” A soft smile on his face when he hands her the plates. “No problem Alfey.”

Plates clinked together as she scrubbed them. The water hot against her hands as she removed the sticky sauce from the plate. Humming a song in her head as she did them.

She turns around to put the dish on the rack. Having not noticed before that Damian has walked in to grab some water from the fridge. She gasped and dropped the plate, letting out a small yell when it shattered on the floor. He put his hands out in front of him to her. The crash startling her and not seeing it was Damian due to the low light in the room and his hand out. She let out another tell as she quickly spun around, grabbing a small knife and throwing it at him.

He caught in just before it hit his face, his heart beating out of his chest as he watched her heaving for air. “What the fuck was that!” He yelled out. Anger flowing through him. “I didn’t see it was you! And you put your hands out like that, what was I supposed to do! Don’t get fuckin mad at ME that you jumped me!” She yelled at him. Her fists in balls are her sides. “NOT THROW A FUCKING KNIFE AT ME! GOD WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT!” He screams out. His whole body tensed up as anger overtook his face. “Why don’t you ask yourself that.” She snaps back. Her arms folded on her chest. “I fuckin ask myself a lot of questions about you.” He snarls back. A pain shoots through her heart at the venom in his voice. “Oh and what’s that supposed to mean.” She bites back. “How I didn’t see it. How I didn’t realize who you actually were. I’m not even mad about what you and Todd do. I’m mad that you act like you’re this perfect little thing that’s so kind to everyone. And then you just waltz right in here and get all buddy buddy with everyone! And I’m angry that I fell for you. I’m angry that the first time I have feelings for someone it was you. I’m not even angry like I was. I’m angry because it still hurts me every time I look at you because you weren’t who I thought you were!” He yelled out. Tears streaming down his face. A vain popping out of his temple as he yelled. Her eyes flowing out tears as her heart broke for the forth time. A deep pain shooting through her as tears rolled out like a waterfall down her face and chest. “What you’re not getting is THIS IS ME! I showed you who I truly am that entire time Damian! I let myself for the first time bare my heart for someone besides my dad. You just think I’m 2 different people when IM NOT! AND HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL! IT KILLS ME THAT YOU LOOK AT ME WITH DISGUST BECAUSE I WAS FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU! HOW IS IT FAIR THAT YOU TAKE YOUR ANGER OUT ON ME WHEN I'M HURTING TOO! GOD IT FUCKING HIRTS SO BAD!” She screams out, her voice breaking due to the heavy tears. Her heart now nothing but filled with hard pain that squeezed her chest and throat. She beat her hands against his chest, tears streaming down her face as she lets out yells. He grabs a hold of her wrists, trying not to be hard as to got hurt her. Tears falling down his face as his heart broke as he watched her. Her face was contorted in pain as sobs wrecked her body. “WHY! WHY DID I HAVE TO FALL FOR YOU!” She sobbed out. Her head liply laying against his chest. She keeps whispering why as she soaked his shirt. “Why do you keep doing this to me?” She weakly whispers out. Tears fall even harder down his face. He laid his head in her hair, soaking her scalp. “I-I can’t do this.” She says. She rips her wrists from his hands, looking away as she runs out of the room. Her sobs being heard until she gets far enough away. Sobs overtaking his body as he falls to his knees. His head in his hands as he sobs violently. His heart breaking again.

Dick runs down the hallway towards her room, his heart beating heavily in his chest. He had heard everything, tears brimming his eyes the entire time he heard the level of pain in their voices. His heart falling when he heard her running towards her room.

He walked in and saw the window was open. The blinds shielding the outside view. But he heard her quiet sobs from her door. He walked out onto the balcony, seeing her looking over the ledge with her head in her arms. The puddle of tears soaking the floor. He wrapped his arms around her. Holding her tight as she turned around into his chest and sobbed even harder. Tears now escaping his eyes as he watches as she shakes with how violent she’s sobbing. “Shhh it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.” He whispers, rubbing his hand on the middle of her back. Avoiding her shoulders. “W-why is he doing this?” She sobs out. Her voice quiet due to her throat being raw. “Damians never had feelings for someone. He’s always had anger problems and doesn’t know how to handle his emotions well. And whenever he’s scared or hurt, he lashes out. I’m gonna have a talk with him. I’m sorry I haven’t sooner.” He says, her sobs slowing down as he talked. “It’s okay. I understand. I just wish I had my dad with me right now.” Tears fell down her face at the end. Pain shooting through her as she misses her father being with her. Having grown used to his hold and presence whenever she was sad or hurt. “I know, and I promise you’ll see him soon. Want me to stay out here with you till you feel better?” He asks. Looking down at her. Her sapphire eyes brimmed red. “Please.”

“That was the best prank we did on Bruce, god he couldn’t figure out how to stop the ghostbusters theme playing over the coms for a month!” He laughed out. Both of them laughing hard at the story. “Sounds like you and my dad were his worst nightmare kids.” Age laughed out. A fond smile grew on his face. “You have no idea. Him and I were really close when he was robin. He was the little brother I had dreamed of having my whole life.” He replied. His face slightly falling at the end. Her eyes squinted slightly as she watched as his face fell a bit more. “Dick, can I ask you something?” He looks over at her, her face painted in concern. “Sure.” He replies. She takes in a deep breath, her heart beating fast again against her rib cage. “What, happened? Nobody’s told me why he didn’t speak to all of you for so long.” A sigh leave him at her question. Pain in his chest creeping up his neck when he thought about it. “Alright, I’ll tell you. But please, understand we love him and didn’t do this to hurt him.” Her eyes widen slightly. “Okay.”

“He, told you about joker right?” He asked. Both now lying on her bed. “Yeah, he killed him but he came back.” She replies. Her eyes watching as his face fell again. “That’s, not entirely what happened. Joker didn’t just kill him. He held him in an abandoned building near Arkham asylum. He Tortured him for over 6 months. None of us could find them because whenever we thought we did, he’d switch buildings. Until he brought him to an abandoned wing of the asylum. There he, did things to him. Things that he hasn’t even spoken about. And one day, Bruce got a video. It was Jason tied to a wheelchair. He was hurt so badly. His suit was torn and almost completely red from blood. He was slumped over. And, out walked joker from behind him. And he, he shot him in the head.” Tears fell down both their faces as he says the last part. “We, found his body. We took him back here and buried him. Well, damians mom talia took his body for some reason. And she put him in this thing called the lazarus pit. Its able to heal all wounds, and some can bring back someone’s life. Well, it worked. But not exactly. It changes people, what was once a kind, sane person, can go mad and angry from it. Jason lashes out, and ran away from the league. He ended up back in Gotham. And he, because of his anger, started killing criminals. He was eventually found by Barbara’s dad Jim. And he’s known about ya since I was robin. And he called Bruce. Jason couldn’t speak. He didn’t look the same as he used to and he was dubbed a John Doe. But jim knew. Bruce, he didn’t know what to do. So, he had Jason admitted to Arkham. The place had cleaned up a lot in the last year. Now actually helping people. Bruce paid off the doctors for Jason not to let the word out that he was there. And he made all of us promise, not to speak or let him see us. He didn’t know if he’d handle it well and lash out again. So we didn’t. For 3 years we watched as he was there. And he was doing amazing. He grew to be massive, and his hair grew out and was bright reddish blonde. He even grew a beard that was firey ginger. You literally couldn’t recognize him if you knew him when he was robin. And, we all thought he had forgotten us. He never once mentioned us, his life at the manor, being robin, joker, nothing. We thought that entire time was wiped from his memory. And it killed me. God the amount of times I’d go there to bring back someone like croc or pyg, I’d always fight with myself not to go to his room to see my little brother.”

Pain shot through dicks chest when he walked down the hallway, knowing he was behind that door. He stopped at it, tears threatening to spill over his mask as he looked at the door. Hands shaking at his sides, until he reaches up and skids the window of the door, looking in. There sat Jason on his bed, his hair had grown long, even longer than his own and was a light red. His firey bead covered his face. His body was massive, you wouldn’t believe he was only 21 due to the size of his body. No longer the scrawny street kid he once was. Now he was large with bulging muscles and towering height. He looked, calm. And happy. He was at ease in the room. Reading his book and sipping some water. Tears fell down dicks eyes as he watched, his little brother not seeing him, and wouldn’t recognize who he was.

“He did so amazing, so amazing that he was being let out. We knew the date he was, and Bruce, Alfred and I prepared ourselves for how bad it’d hurt. Knowing he wouldn’t come back. Never remembering who we are. At this point Damian has become robin. He was about 15 at the time. Him and Tim has never met him before. So it wouldn’t hurt them to watch as he built his life without us. But we were wrong. The day he was let out, all 3 of us had cried a little. But, that night, Alfred cane to the door, and he fainted. Because there at the door, was Jason. Turns out, he remembered everything. But the doctors did such a good job, he forgave us. He came in and, I don’t think I had ever hugged someone for so long. We both were crying, eventually Bruce and Alfred joined in and we all stayed in the living room for hours catching up. And things were perfect, he stayed here in his room and wouldn’t really leave the manor. He, even grew close to Tim and a little bit with Damian. He actually was our computer guy, you wouldn’t know it but damn he knows his way around a computer and tracking. And it was like this for about a year. Them that night, he had come into the cave and told us he wanted to go back out with us. It was gonna be a really difficult night and he wanted to go back out to help. But Damian said he couldn’t. They got into a huge fight, and, Damian let it out that Bruce had him admitted to Arkham. Jason he, he thought we didn’t know he was alive. He never knew, and that’s when he, he lost it on us, and he left. It kills me that I never went to see him. I wish I had, maybe he wouldn’t hate-“ “stop it dick.” She cuts him off, hand on his shoulder. Tears falling from his eyes. He looks into hers, no longer red with tears. “He doesn’t hate you. You were doing what you were told for the safety of your brother. You did nothing wrong. I’m not mad at what you did or didn’t do. No, who I’m mad at, is Bruce.”

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #older!damian wayne #Batman #batfam x reader #batfamily #Jason Todd #red hood #dick grayson #Tim drake #dc #dc imagine #dceu

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astralaffairs · 5 years ago

Text

freedom of the press 04 | thomas jefferson

title: freedom of the press

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich --- hope i didnt miss anyone; lmk if you want to be added!!

words: 13.5k

warnings: this still doesn’t go past, like, pg-13, but careful around the end -- it isn’t quite sfw even tho its not rlly nsfw. also, neo-nazi mentions, the loml monica lewinsky mentions, bunny slippers & flaming hot cheetos (hope yall can handle it gettin SPICY 🔥)

desc: you’d just moved to d.c. full time, a promotion at your publication leading to a transfer to another district chapter, and you were more than thrilled to be there, more than ready to immerse yourself in the world of politics. what you weren’t ready for, though, was how the campaign trail you were following made your heart flutter and your stomach turn. you also hadn’t expected it to be so… gaudy? magenta? – or perhaps, though you wouldn’t hear of it, that wasn’t the campaign’s effect at all.

Y/N SPENT THE following days, the next weeks, focusing on herself. She was letting herself get distracted, and with that, distracted by precisely the person she was supposed to be focusing on. It felt ironic, really, but she wasn't amused.

She spent time tapping her sources from and around the campaign trail, trying to establish a connection with other politicians who had been identified as potential candidates for the election, trying to expand her network beyond her small corner of the policy scene. ("The policy scene" was much bigger than she'd thought.)

She reached out to think tanks, to analysts, economists -- she was getting a little off track, but basically, she talked to everyone with no link to the name "Jefferson," despite the precise nature of her assignment.

Her stab at freedom from the now-former Secretary of State was to little avail. While he was the foundation of his campaign, there was enough else going on surrounding the election that she could dance around confronting him.

Yet, not for as long as she'd have liked.

She was knee-deep into finding the perfect person to cold call at Brookings when the crucial blow came.

"Y/N!" Her boss's perpetually peppy voice rang through the hall toward her office, and our fatigued heroine looked up with a brow raised. Ashley stopped in the doorway, appearing elated. "Guess what?"

Her eyes flashed with crazed excitement, and Y/N almost didn't want to ask what. It felt very much like a trick question.

In response to Y/N's expectant stare, silent and unmoving, Ashley sighed and entered. "You should be a lot more excited when I come running down to your office with a 'guess what,' y'know."

She sighed. "Oh, no! I'm so sorry! What ever exciting news could I be missing out on at this very moment?" Her contrived enthusiasm reeked of sarcasm, but Ashley's spirits were too high to be quashed, and she only rolled her eyes in response.

"So, you've been covering the Jefferson campaign for months, right?" Apparently she was ignoring the less-than-thrilled response. Y/N nodded. "And you were out in front of it before anyone else was, right? You know more than anyone else about his platform and history."

Grudgingly, she nodded again. "I suppose so." She was equally unexcited to claim to know Thomas Jefferson's past better than anyone else.

"And, he's projected to be the Republican frontrunner."

"The debates haven't even started, everything could change in a night," Y/N pointed out. "You know that."

"You're right, the debates haven't started." Y/N was clearly missing something. Ashley seemed to be unreasonably thrilled about the lack of pre-existing clash between the candidates. She raised a brow, and Ashley appeared to be holding back a squeal with how she was grinning. "But, the debates are only a few days from now, so, I called in an old contact from NBC, and of course, they'd heard of you--" She paused for dramatic emphasis, but the anticipation wasn't exactly killing Y/N, "And... since the Washington Post is co-sponsoring the event, they want to have you as one of the moderators for the first round of debates!"

With that, Y/N was struck silent. "They...?" She could only gape for a moment, and Ashley nodded excitedly.

"Mm-hmm. It's against precedent, but since you've become the most prominent and consistent reporter covering Jefferson the past few months, they think your input would be invaluable."

"But what about my live commentary?" she asked, still dumbstruck. Everything in her was telling her this was a bad idea; she needed to protest her way out. "I won't be able to provide as good of coverage of the debates if I'm not taking notes and writing during them. It'll hurt my articles. This is too big of an event not to write for."

She knew she was rambling, but Ashley only let out a sigh, as though Y/N was being absolutely ridiculous. "Oh, come on. Your commentary's more valuable on the spot if it can be used to grill the candidates and get Jefferson to talk."

"'Get Jefferson to talk'? This is a debate, not an interrogation." She blinked, visibly put-off. "Besides, it's not like I'd be controlling the floor. I wouldn't be doing much good anyway, and it really wouldn't get me much notice." She paused a moment, trying to gauge Ashley's reaction, and swallowed. "I think I should stick to my own territory."

"Y/N." Her tone was firm now. "This is the biggest opportunity you're going to get for people to notice you as a political journalist. It wasn't easy to get you this position, and besides, you're perfectly equipped for it. You've spent hundreds of hours by now researching the issues, contacting think tanks for different perspectives on them, contrasting Jefferson with the other candidates, and..." She took a thoughtful pause. "And I can't even scratch the surface of what you've been spending all this time on. If anyone should be moderating, it should be you. This isn't the time for cold feet."

Ashley had begun monologuing, and Y/N knew right there that there was no getting out of this job. It's not about getting cold feet, though, Y/N thought, I can do it, easily. What Ashley didn't know, though, was that there was more there.

The growing pause following her boss's speech was heavy with expectation, and finally, Y/N sighed, knowing she didn't actually have a choice in the matter if she cared to keep her job.

"Fine. Should I book myself a hotel in Detroit?"

"Don't bother. It'll come out of company funds; it's the least we can do."

She sighed, turning back to her computer, closing the tab she'd just opened. "Michigan, here I come."

_______________

THAT CONVERSATION HAD taken place Monday, and, as Y/N later realized, the first round of debates were that Wednesday, so she had approximately 48 hours to pack, fly, and get situated in Detroit. That evening was a whirlwind -- Ashley texted her that the flight the WaPo had booked her left at 10:00 on Tuesday morning, she immediately began her frenzied packing. Which, in turn, brings us once again to the apartment, filled with Y/N's anguish, the hair she was tearing out with stress, and clothing strewn over the carpet's full surface area.

"What do I wear, Ang? I'm gonna be on national TV, I need to look good but so, so, so professional," she wailed, looking up at her friend who was perched on the edge of her bed. Angelica gave her a sympathetic look.

"You're overthinking it, honey," she said, "No one's worried with what you're wearing, alright? It's what you say, not what you look like."

"But I'm..." She sighed, arms going slack along with the three different dresses she'd been holding up to the light, shoulders slumping. "I dunno, it's just the first time I'm gonna be that clearly in the public eye. When I'm writing I can just hide behind the words."

"The time for hiding's over." Angelica pushed herself off the edge of the bed, joining Y/N in the garment tsunami that threatened to claim her furniture. "You got the spot with the debates because people wanna hear from you, so pick an outfit. Doesn't matter which."

"But it does." Y/N looked over at her weakly, everything in her expression reading dejected, from her furrowed brow to her little pout. Angelica gave her a pointed look, and she huffed. "I just... It's not only the public, y'know? I'm also up with all the famous newscasters and the fucking Republicans, for God's sake."

"Since when do you care what Republicans think of you?"

"I..." She hesitated, considering herself. Angelica made a good point -- since when did she care? "I don't, really. I just don't want to look bad on national TV on my first gig where I'm... visible."

She pursed her lips, praying the issue wouldn't be pushed further.

Finally, Angelica huffed, beginning to pick through the pile of Y/N's clothes, seemingly resigned to the angst that deciding one outfit had apparently proved to be. With a sigh, Y/N slumped against the footboard of her bed, her dejected stare meeting the multicolored flood piling around her ankles. She carded a hand through her now-disheveled hair as she checked her phone, unable to stifle a grin at her Twitter notifications coming from all different corners of the political compass -- not to mention, now, John Adams. Her recent article on Jefferson's voting history was blowing up.

She began to respond to a tweet, nails tapping frantically against her phone screen, and though she couldn't see it, Angelica raised an eyebrow.

She let out a soft giggle as she read another response to her post: this time, the successive Secretary of State, his voice being behind her loud and clear. The feedback on her writing was only making her progressively giddy. Her smile curled with self-content, though, as she saw James Madison's message about her post, sent directly to her. Angelica raised another eyebrow.

"Y/N?" Angelica's tone bordered on cagey as it cut through Y/N's laser focus. She looked up, eyes wide. "The concerns about your outfit wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the Jefferson campaign, right?"

"Well, of course they do." She blinked, unable to place the intent behind the skepticism heavy in Angelica's words. "It's the only reason I have this gig, anyway."

Angelica pursed her lips; apparently, that hadn't been quite what she was asking. "Would it have anything to do with a specific person from the Jefferson campaign?"

Y/N paled. All-too-vivid memories of the state dinner that was now months past fought their way to the forefront of her mind -- her attempts to curb them hadn't been in vain till Angelica popped the question. "I'm sorry?"

The pause that followed as Angelica examined Y/N's look of near-panic was anything but silent, both their trains of thought threatening to derail themselves with conjecture. Angelica took in a shuddering breath.

"I just mean..." Y/N could hardly bear to meet Angelica's wary gaze. "D'you have a thing for James Madison?"

The next beat that passed was simply stunned. Y/N could hardly conceal her laughter in a huff; she had to swallow her amusement, every nerve in her body immediately relaxing.

"What did you just ask me?" She shook her head, small grin breaking out across her lips as her shoulders slumped. Angelica didn't look so sure. "I am not lusting over James Madison, Ang. He's literally married."

"Marriage isn't forever, babes." She pinned her with a skeptical stare, to which Y/N could only laugh.

"I swear to you, Angelica. You will at no point see me trying to jump James Madison's bones."

"So why'd you react how you did when I asked you about the Jefferson campaign, hm?" Angelica folded her arms, plainly unconvinced, and Y/N's breath caught. She'd supposed she was off the hook.

"What do you mean?" Y/N wished the question hadn't come out so breathily.

"Y/N," Angelica started, exasperated, "You've been messaging Madison on Twitter. You've met him multiple times and have spent your fair share of hours detailing to me each of the times you've met. You were just giggling at something he sent you." She was fully deadpan by then. "You don't need to hide it, I just want you to talk to me 'bout it."

"I promise, it's not that I'm in love with Madison." Y/N's smile as she returned to packing was meant to have been placating, but functioned as anything but. She needed to get back to packing before Angelica could press the matter. "Blue or green dress?"

"Don't change the subject!"

"I'm not, but I'm gonna be on a plane in twelve hours!" she said, "I need to finish packing."

"So there's no ulterior motive to how you're approaching the Jefferson campaign?"

For a moment just long enough to evoke doubt, Y/N paused. She wasn't inclined to reminisce on the last time she'd actually talked to anyone from the Jefferson campaign, but her psyche had other priorities. A nearly undetectable chill ran down her spine -- she could still feel his heavy hands trailing down to her hips, hot breath brushing over her cheek; she could even feel the sculpt and contour of his body as it pressed against hers, muscles rippling under his stiff button-down. Her skin burned still where rough calluses had grazed her neck.

"There's no ulterior motive, Ang." She wanted her words to be true, fighting back a shudder as she bottled up the memory. "I swear."

Angelica didn't look convinced.

________________

ABOUT TEN HOURS, a mildly annoying trip through TSA (the Post had paid for her pre-check, otherwise she'd have been less forgiving of the experience -- and the line), and two hours on a plane later, she rolled into her hotel lobby in Michigan, small suitcase dragging behind her. She knew she wasn't exactly a sight to see, just off a plane at noon in her socks and sandals, her oversized sweater. She certainly wasn't feeling as high-end as her hotel appeared to be.

The high ceilings, crown molding, and arched entryways all reeked of wealth, not to mention that the space was crawling with men and women in sharp suits, appearing as though they were on the verge of being willing to cut anyone who held them up for a moment too long. She shifted her weight uncomfortably from one Birkenstock to the other, waiting for the manager to return to the front desk so that she could check in. As she warily eyed the man marching through with a clipboard, aggression in each step, she had to wonder why the Washington Post had decided to drop here there, of all places.

She would've loved to disappear into her sweater, at that moment.

The manager returned to her position, looking just as sleek and professional as everyone else there, and Y/N's appearance seemed to give her pause. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, yes, I'm here to check into my hotel room for the next three nights." She gave the manager her warmest smile in an effort to diffuse some of her tense nature, but it was to no avail. "I'm here with the Washington Post, but I think it should be under the name L/N?"

Y/N waited a moment, trying to roll some of her post-travel soreness out of her shoulders as the manager typed away at the computer before her. She creased her brow, frowning for a moment. "Y/N?"

"That's me," she said, enthusiasm weak in her voice.

"Alright, you're up in room 569, so let me get you your key." She paused, rooting through drawers as her coworker appeared next to her, apparently taking a post at the next laptop over. She looked back up. "Alright, you should be all set," -- she slid the keys across the counter to Y/N -- "but it's still early, and I'm not sure your room's been checked out of quite yet. Excuse me for a moment to go see about that."

Before Y/N could say another word, she was gone, and Y/N let out a heavy sigh. It'd been a long 12 hours, and all she wanted was a proper bed and a nap. It seemed rest wasn't what the universe had in mind for her, though.

She began checking her Twitter while she stood in wait, paying no mind to the energetic bustle of who she'd worked out to be politicians and the like, given the snippets of conversation she'd picked up standing there; however, tuning out became significantly more difficult when a familiar voice sounded next to her.

"Yes, only the next three nights. The room is registered for the surname 'Madison'." If she couldn't guess from his voice, his words were a dead giveaway. She looked up, and sure enough, there was the man himself. Well, shit.

Not only was she painfully opposed to having to interact with him in her near-pajamas and slipper socks, feeling like the biggest mess she'd ever been, but she also knew that where he was, Jefferson wasn't far behind.

She immediately busied herself with something, anything on her phone, facing down and away from him in the hope that he wouldn't notice her. She'd just pulled up a scintillating article on diabetes in labradors, when--

"Y/N?" The man at the desk helping him had disappeared when she reluctantly turned to face him -- busying himself with something other than helping protect her from social interaction, apparently. James, however, looked all but amused.

"Hey, James." She did her best to return the positive sentiment he perpetually seemed to give off, but she knew it came out weaker than intended. "Should I assume I know what brings you here?"

"Should I assume that it'd be the same thing that brought you here?" He quirked an eyebrow, unable to resist eyeing her outfit. She sighed.

"That might be fair," she conceded, small smile resting on her lips. "Is the campaign all ready for the first round of debates?"

He laughed; not a polite chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh, as though he couldn't believe the question. "Something like that. We've prepared Thomas as many talking points as we could think he might need, but I'm worried the moderators--" He gave her a pointed look, wearing a knowing smile, "--may end up grilling him regardless."

A wry smile crept onto Y/N's face. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Word travels fast, especially from the Washington Post's Twitter account."

"You really are always one step ahead, hm?"

"You're the one with the questions, last I checked."

"Well, I'm sure your campaign will be thrilled to hear them -- following you is why I got the gig, anyway." She only shrugged, despite the self-content etched into her grin.

"Oh, really?" Amusement was deep-set in his smile.

She nodded. "I'm forever grateful."

"Grateful enough to go easy on Thomas?"

"Not quite," she laughed, "When following his campaign makes me my first million, then we'll talk."

"Sounds like we'll have to step it up, then."

"Running on a deadline, James," she warned him in a singsong voice, folding her arms.

"We'll win you over by the end." He grinned, turning back to the woman at the desk, handing her his credit card, and shot Y/N a sly glance. "Thomas has always loved a challenge."

Her stomach turned at his words for reasons she couldn't explain, amused smile faltering for only a moment as James slid his card back into his wallet and tucked it into his coat pocket. James raised an eyebrow at her silence, her moment of hesitation.

To her delight, that was the moment the concierge returned, wearing a wide (and contrived, but that was how customer service was) smile, stepping back up to the desktop Y/N stood before.

"Alright, your room should be all set, Ms. L/N." She returned to quickly tapping at the keyboard, before pulling out a number of brochures. "These are for room service and the various hotel amenities. Our pool is on the second floor, gym is on the third along with the spa, meeting rooms are on the fourth, and the business office is on the fifth, fully equipped with desks and printers." She hesitated, glancing with disdain down at Y/N's choice of travel outfit. "Are... you here on business? Or... ?"

As she trailed off, Y/N sighed, returning the less-than-candid customer service smile. "Yes, I am, actually. Thanks so much for everything."

She nodded. "Alright! Don't hesitate to come let us know if there's anything else you need. There will always be someone here to help you."

"Perfect." She turned back to James as she folded up the brochures, shoving them into the side pocket of her purse. "Well, sounds like I'll be seeing you around, then."

"Thomas and I look forward to it."

Then, the automatic doors of the lobby slid open, and a rush of cold air, as well as a grand entourage, made their way in, catching both of their attention. "Well, speak of the devil."

At that, Y/N realized exactly why there was such a crowd, and it became immediately clear why the Washington Post had chosen that hotel to set her down in, among the countless in the area. Thomas Jefferson had just entered, along with a bustling crowd of Secret Service and reporters, all orbiting him like he was the sun. He wore a broad grin, laughing and shaking hands, and Y/N stared for decidedly a moment too long, longer yet than James had. Her breath caught as Thomas looked over at her, and she found herself frozen, rooted to the spot, his gaze locked on hers.

Thomas, too, was stunned when she caught his eye. His pause was minuscule enough to be unnoticeable, hardly a fleeting glance that even Y/N didn't think anything of, but his self-consciousness couldn't let it go in that moment. His smile faltered for a moment, softening to become small, apologetic, and certainly more sheepish than it'd ever been, all the teasing self-content drained out of it. For the first time, she returned the smile -- tense, nervous, but real.

The flash of a camera broke their gaze, and the moment ended as quickly as it came.

_______________

Y/N CRASHED ALMOST immediately into her hotel bed upon reaching her room; she'd had less sleep than she'd have liked during the past thirty-six hours, anxiety keeping her awake. She was shaken from her long-overdue nap, though, by her phone buzzing angrily next to her. She groaned as she recognized the number as belonging to Ashley, her boss, and declined almost immediately.

After that, though, despite her best efforts, her nap seemed to have ended, and much to her dismay. She made the mistake of instead opening her email, then, deciding productivity was the obvious cure for sleeplessness -- until she opened her most recent email from Ashley. (The subject line read 'IMPORTANT, IMMEDIATE, AND URGENT.' Got any synonyms for 'redundant'?)

The oversized, highlighted body text blared at her to the point where her eyes began to water, still adjusting to the light and certainly not ready to be staring directly into all the light of the sun her boss had managed to stuff into a single communication.

There's no reason to use font size 25, she thought, rather irked, and highlighting every word in bright yellow goes entirely against the point of highlighting.

She could only bring herself to skim the message, but when she did, she groaned at its contents, falling back onto her hotel bed in annoyance. Thomas Jefferson was having another campaign rally, apparently, to garner support going into the debates. And she was being prodded to attend.

It was expected to be a small ordeal; the venue was modest, and around 100 people would be in attendance, maximum. So, she went. Grudgingly, with a full 30 oz cup of coffee, and in jeans and a tank top, but she went.

She showed up just over 20 minutes before the event -- a town hall on his policy, as it turned out. She felt a bit out of place, the look she was rocking from her hiking boots to her disheveled post-nap bun not exactly screaming 'distinguished professional,' but she liked to think throwing a blazer atop the whole look saved it.

The venue was small, homey -- she'd read that it was generally used as a comedy club, but that the space could be rented out (obviously). Y/N figured the best use of her time there was to get to know Jefferson's base of voters. Who were they? What did they care about? And, most importantly, how long could they keep her occupied so she never actually had to speak with Jefferson?

The first person she met, though, wasn't exactly a supporter.

She'd tucked herself into a back corner as everyone swarmed Jefferson, who was busy giving his opening remarks, but she was content just to record them, to reserve judgment for the time being (verbally, at least). She had the audio being taped, all but absentmindedly taking notes for herself for the debates. Yet, there wasn't much substance in most of what he was saying.

"This seat taken?"

She looked up with her eyebrows raised, surprised to have been approached. What met her was the smiling face of a vaguely-familiar Democratic reporter, and eyebrow cocked in question.

"I... No! No, please sit." She smiled, motioned to the metal folding chair beside her. "We've met before, right? Ben Arnold, New York Times?"

"That's me. And it's Y/N, yeah?" He pulled out the chair, swinging a leg around it and resting his forearms on his thighs as he looked to her. "You're from the Washington Post, the one tracking Jefferson."

She sighed. "That seems to be everyone's first reaction to meeting me, hm? Jefferson's media adversary?" Her tone was joking, but there was a certain bitterness in them at her career now being irreparably tied to Secretary Jefferson. She hoped Ben didn't take it personally. "Yeah, you've got the right girl, though."

"To be fair, you've become famous for digging up info on him that no one else seems to have." He shrugged. "I've read some of your recent stuff, since we're following the same campaign; hope you know you're famous in your own right, even if it is tied to him." He nodded toward the stage with that, just as applause broke out and Jefferson began taking questions from the crowd.

She chuckled, though it was all but mirthless. "Thanks, but I'm not so sure about that. Everyone loves gossip, and they only know me because they think I'm here to dish out the dirt on Jefferson."

"Now, that's not true." She raised a brow, and he grinned. "They follow you because you knowledgeably and eloquently dish out the dirt on Jefferson."

"Oh, that's so different." She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help her laugh at his words.

"It's true!" he protested. "C'mon, there's a reason the public has latched onto your coverage and not mine."

"I dunno about that." She pursed her lips, stifling her small smile. "I've read your writing. It's really good."

"Aw, you've looked up my writing? I'm flattered." He appeared touched, though mockingly, placing a hand on his heart and plastering on an exaggerated pout, causing her to laugh.

"Well, you did give me your business card."

He sighed, nodded sagely. "Ah yes, I suppose the media circus is easily Google-able, huh?"

"What can I say, clowns recognize clowns." Her gaze drifted back toward the stage with this, turning toward Jefferson as she cast Ben a sidelong glance. The corners of her lips quirked up. "And we are all caught in this circus, too." The pointed look she gave Jefferson at that was entirely devoid of subtlety, and Ben laughed.

"Are you claiming Jefferson as part of our circus? A bold move, Y/N."

"Good point, good point." She leaned back in her chair with a grin. "So what are we, then? Consumers taking advantage of free entertainment?"

"I dunno, we're making money off this circus." He pursed his lips. "Shit, what d'you call the people who like, run the circus?"

Her eyes widened in amusement as she looked back over at him. "What, we're the ringmasters?"

"Yeah, yeah, exactly!" She couldn't keep herself from laughing at that, the idea of Jefferson as a circus freak or a traveling sideshow too comical to entertain. He cracked a grin as well, unable to take himself seriously. "C'mon, hear me out -- he's up there playing the fool, and we're making the big bucks off of it, hm?"

"Fair enough," she conceded, grin now chronic and apparently contagious. "Anyway, what're you here for? Just general info from the town hall, or looking for something specific?"

"Well, I figured this was my chance to question Jefferson before the debates, y'know?" He nudged Y/N at that. "Or can I just pass my questions off to you for tomorrow, since I've heard you're moderating now?"

She sighed. "Word really does travel fast when Jefferson's name is attached, huh?"

"Or it's because your name's attached." She gave him a skeptical look, and he held up his hands defensively. "I'm serious! People care about what you have to say now, y'know? Given, it is about his campaign, but really, it's your take on the next election that they want -- it's no longer just about him."

Y/N had to pretend her chest wasn't swelling with pride at that. Perhaps he was just feeding her ego, talking her up because he wanted to be able to use her for sources, but it was nice to hear regardless of the motive behind it. Her small smile grew. "Well, thanks, I guess. I'll certainly take it."

"You should." He looked like he was about to continue, but his following sentence was broken off by a sudden uproar of excitement. Hollers, cheers, and applause sounded loudly from the center of the room, and they both looked over to see Jefferson exiting the podium, moving down to begin talking to the voters there to see him, and Y/N sighed.

"Guess we'd better get a move on if we want anything out of this event."

"I suppose so." He huffed as he lifted himself out of his chair, and Y/N immediately followed suit, tucking her laptop into her bag. "You headed to talk to Jefferson?"

"Nah, actually." Her gaze darted through the room as she tried to find where to begin. "Just tryna find out what his supporters care about for the election. Needa know what points I need to drive home tomorrow at the debate." He nodded, and she cocked an eyebrow. "Care to join me?"

"Think I'll have to take a rain check, unfortunately. My editor wants direct quotes from Jefferson, and this is most of my window of opportunity." He glanced over at her with a small grin as they walked together toward the center of the room. "Come find me if you get sick of the Republicans, though. I'd be more than happy to abandon Jefferson for a cup of coffee at the place around the corner."

He winked before he made off toward where Jefferson stood, and Y/N was left stunned a moment. Shit, was he hitting on her? She couldn't help it as her eyes raked over his retreating form, biting her lip as she decided that she certainly wouldn't have minded if he was. After all, even the clowns need company in the media circus.

She didn't let herself dwell, though, but instead fixed her focus on the task at hand. She floated throughout the room for the next hour or two, meeting Ben's eye in passing here and there, receiving a wry grin. A few trends emerged from Jefferson's supporters, and they were fairly generic. Russia, China, healthcare, the crushing weight of existence and the feeling that they were running out of time, fear of the impending race war, healthcare -- y'know, the usual.

(Perhaps she'd spoken to one too many alt-righters. The fact that they were at the Jefferson town hall spoke volumes.)

A few hours deep, she checked her watch, concerned about how long this would go on, leafed through her notes trying to determine whether she had enough to just jump ship, to climb into her hotel bed, order room service, and take her pants off. She glanced back up at Jefferson warily.

Her gaze traveled lazily around the room as she decided talking to one or two more people wouldn't kill her, wincing internally even as she made the decision. She braced herself for just a few more minutes of crazy.

"Y/N!"

Oh, the voice that came from her left was melodic, sounded of angels singing, of her walking miracle saving her from the political shitshow, and she turned with a smile. Walking toward her brightly was Dolley Madison, and her brows shot up as she reached her.

"Hey, Dolley, what's up?"

"Not much." She pulled Y/N for an unexpected hug, grinning as she pulled back to look at her from arm's length. Her hands still rested on Y/N's shoulders. "Fancy meeting you here, though. What are the odds?"

"Oh, so low. Especially considering my job and your marriage, who knew we'd both end up at Jefferson's town hall?" Her tone was playful as Dolley rolled her eyes.

"Oh, don't gimme that. I'm just glad to see you."

Y/N laughed as Dolley finally pulled back, settling beside her. "Jesus; tell me about it. D'you know how many crazy voters I've had to pretend were completely normal in the past few hours. Even just your sanity is a breath of fresh air."

"Yeah, the American voter." Her smile was amused as she eyed the crowd. "Really gives you hope for the future of our country, hm?"

"Of course." Y/N laughed, tucking a hair behind her ears. "Comforting to know these are the people who determine our president for the next four years."

"I'm sure." Dolley glanced back up toward where Jefferson stood, James apparently now beside him making his way through the crowd. "Though, I do find a bit of comfort in the idea of Thomas being the one behind the wheel for the next four years."

"That makes one of us." Though Y/N's tone was joking, her words were dead serious, and transparently so. Dolley grinned as she caught her eye.

"Yeah?"

"I might be just a little bit biased." Y/N shrugged. "To be fair, I've spent the past four months digging up all the dirt there is on him, and reviving any and all skeletons in his many, many closets."

"Yeah, I gotcha. I keep up with your articles." Dolley winked, and Y/N could feel herself flush. The fact that Dolley Madison actively kept tabs on her writing felt like quite the honor. "Didn't think any of it was all that damning, though, to be honest."

"No, I agree with you." Y/N nodded reasonably, eyes fixed on Jefferson as he moved fluidly through the room, weaving between people and families, shaking hands, taking selfies. "And I'm glad it comes off that way, too. I try to keep the tone of my writing neutral, but as a journalist, I have to look at everything with a critical eye, y'know?"

"I've gotcha. I may be biased too, considering my husband is probably gonna be his running mate." Dolley grinned as she caught James's eye and waved to him. He was at the opposite end of the room, but he began walking toward them almost immediately.

"James may be what saves the ticket in my eyes, to be honest." Y/N returned the smile as he neared them, and turned to Dolley. "If not, though, is it too late to take you up on covering my therapy costs?"

She laughed, squeezing Y/N's forearm lightly. "I'll just have to hope James helps keep your sanity these next few months."

"What's that about Y/N's sanity?" James furrowed his brow as he reached them, a small smile resting on his lips, but his gaze full of concern.

The two women shared an entertained look before Y/N turned to James. "Just that when I lose it, the two of you had better find me a comfy asylum."

James's visible confusion deepened as Dolley's grin grew. "Don't worry about it, love. We were just discussing Y/N's writing about the campaign."

"Ah, so that's why you're losing your sanity?" He raised an eyebrow, and Y/N nodded in confirmation. "Then no worries, we'll find you the best therapist money can buy."

She let out a soft 'aw,' placing her hand over her heart. "When you do, I'll be sure to write an exposé on the generosity of the Madisons. You'd better be honored when I cross party lines for you two."

James grinned. "Abandoning partisanship for the Jefferson campaign? Never thought I'd see the day."

"You won't. It'll all be for Dolley." Y/N shot her a wink. "I'll throw all my weight behind Jefferson when Hell freezes over."

"You do so much for me," Dolley sighed dramatically, wiping away an imaginary tear as she squeezed Y/N's hand, pretending to be moved by her words. Meanwhile, James folded his arms, wearing a small smile.

"He'll see to it that that's sooner than you think."

________________

SHE ABANDONED JEFFERSON'S rally not long after, having no desire to breathe any more air that reeked so heavily of contrived charisma and shitty cologne, but having all the desire in the world to snuggle into her warm pajamas and pop open a bottle of hotel wine. After all, the debates didn't start for nearly 24 more hours.

She was about to pick up her nap from earlier right where it'd left off, but had first to piece together what she'd taken away from the rally and forward it over to Ashley. Not to mention the unfortunately necessary hours of preparation between her and the debates. She couldn't mess up her first run on TV. It was two hours and half a bottle of wine later that she sent off the culmination of her notes and recordings from the afternoon, and by the time Ashley emailed her back, it was nearly eight PM. After that, she resolved to spend no more than two hours writing and revising her questions for the following evening.

She groaned at the fourth email from Ashley -- she had too much criticism, but not nearly enough suggestion. If all my ideas are bad, Y/N thought, frustrated, why don't you have any better ones? After shooting her a response, she decided to take a well-deserved break.

At this point in the night, shame was a non-factor in her decisions, and she was far beyond caring if anyone down in the lobby was going to judge her tank top or bunny slippers. She just wanted whatever candy went best with shitty, five-dollar, red wine, and a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos, and she knew the hotel's food kiosk was the most convenient place to find both.

"Wait, hold the elevator!" She only really kicked into gear when turned the corner on her floor to see the elevator's doors about to close, and she really didn't have the patience left to wait for the next one down, let alone actually take the stairs. To her delight, a hand darted out against the door at her words, and they bounced back open. She breathed a sigh of relief as she finally reached them, ready to sing her mystery savior's praises -- that is, until she saw who was standing in the back of the elevator, and her eyes widened; she'd be lying if she said she didn't seriously consider braving five flights of stairs just to reach the ground floor undisturbed.

"Oh, I-- Y/N..." Jefferson's voice trailed off, surprised, as she stepped hesitantly into the elevator, keeping her distance from him even in the small space. "Hey."

"Secretary Jefferson." She only acknowledged him, not meeting his eyes as the elevator doors finally closed. He glanced over at her with an eyebrow raised at that, though, almost surprised that 'Thomas' had somehow reverted to 'Secretary Jefferson' in just the past few weeks, but he couldn't pretend he didn't know why -- that was why he didn't say a word about it, especially since they both knew, and both wanted to deny, that they couldn't help but still think about the last time they'd met. The tension was heavy in the growing silence.

She could feel his gaze over her shoulder, could see him out of the corner of her eye, but she was determined not to catch his eye, looking instead firmly down to her phone screen, responding to Angelica and Alex's texts from earlier in the day (keeping her brightness down, though, so he couldn't see those, either). She swallowed thickly as he looked back up, biting her lip as she glanced over at him. She looked back down for a moment, anxious in the deafening silence, eyes unfocused but toward her phone screen, but she figured she was safe to sneak another glance at him -- apparently, he'd made the same calculation.

She froze as their eyes met, breath catching in the back of her throat and heat rushing to her face, and he only smiled, waiting to see if she would make the next move. She was determined to ignore him, but it appeared as though she'd been caught. He held her gaze a moment as the elevator descended; it appeared she wouldn't be the first to speak.

She bit her lip, looking up at him as his eyes traveled down her form, grin widening as he caught sight of her pajama pants and slippers, and he raised a teasing brow. "Harry Potter? Really?"

She glanced self-consciously down at her Deathly Hallows pants, her face growing hotter by the second, and she looked back up at him weakly. "They're good books, okay?" she said, tone defensive as she folded her arms, fixed her gaze back on the elevator doors before them, and he chuckled.

"You won't hear me arguin' with that." He had to choke back another laugh as she rolled her eyes, letting out a nearly-inaudible huff. "Aw, c'mon, I'm just teasin'."

She scowled as she looked up at him, feeling more-than-flustered and far from entertained. "What do you want from me, Jefferson?"

He quirked up a brow at her. "Really?" He paused, seemingly in disbelief, and she shook her head blankly at him, waiting for him to continue. "We just never gonna talk about that state dinner, then?"

Her face was now burning; she couldn't meet his eye. He'd finally pointed out the elephant in the room, and for once in her career, it didn't happen to be the one that belonged to the GOP. Just the one that had decided to sit directly on her ego and crush her spirit. "I certainly wasn't planning on bringing it up."

He sighed. "C'mon, Y/N." She didn't look up. "Alright, fine, pretend it didn't happen. But I just wanted to say that--"

That was the exact moment the elevator dinged as it reached the ground floor, catching both of their attention immediately. He cut himself off as the doors began to open. As they caught sight of the numerous people standing before them in the lobby, waiting to get onto the elevator, he glanced back down at her to find her looking up at him, biting her lip but her expression unreadable.

"Some other time, Secretary Jefferson."

She exited the elevator without another word, and he did the same, although slow to follow suit. He didn't continue after her; he couldn't see the point. There was no way he'd be able to have that conversation with her in a lobby full of politicians, but his stare was still attached to her as she left. He really didn't know what to make of her -- but he intended to figure it out.

________________

THE NEXT EVENING was the first night of the debates. To be quite candid, to Y/N, nearly the entire night was a blur. She'd gotten ready with a series of emails to her boss and with Angelica on Facetime, helping her strike the perfect balance of femininity and professionalism (it'd proved to be a tough line to walk), and arrived at the venue hours early as per her official instruction. She steeled herself for the ordeal, determined to ignore any lingering tension between her and Jefferson. She had a job to do there, and she intended to do it right. After the debate, once she began to remove her microphone and slowly make her way out, she avoided him at all costs -- even if the confrontation was inevitable, with the unfortunately large overlap between their lives, it was neither the time nor the place, and she intended to put it off as long as possible.

Chatter filled the room behind her. Everyone who had shown up to watch the debates live was now slowly filing out, apart from groups here and there of stragglers or of people who wanted to approach the candidates afterward. She handed her microphone off to a tech intern with a warm smile and a 'thank you,' collecting her notes before she went backstage to retrieve her coat. (Michigan winters, she'd learned, were brutal.)

She shuffled everything back into her folder, glancing at the crowd behind her, when she caught sight of a familiar face. She furrowed her brow and squinted. She paused, considering whether to go down to greet him -- she hardly knew him, after all -- but he beat her to the punch. He waved, beckoned her over when he caught her eye, and warily, she obliged.

"Hey, it's Lafayette, right? We met at the state dinner; I'm Alex's friend, Y/N."

He grinned as she reached him, clutching her papers to her chest and extending a hand in greeting, which he took without hesitation. "Oui, I remember. It is good to see you, Y/N, although Alexander neglected to mention zat you would be moderating ze debates."

"Oh, what, didn't he tell you how important I am?" She shrugged, shaking her head with a grin as though it was obvious. "Next I'm coming for Anderson Cooper's job, just you wait."

He laughed, folding his arms as he glanced up toward the stage. "I do not doubt it for even a moment. Are you moderating again tomorrow night?"

She nodded. "Mhm. You coming tomorrow night?"

"Oui. I came all ze way to Michigan for zis; it would be a shame if I was only 'ere for one night, hm?" He raised his eyebrows, and she shrugged, nodded. He flashed her a sly grin. "Besides, since I now know zat you are going to be 'ere tomorrow, zat gives me all ze more reason to show up."

Her breath hitched a moment, before she laughed nervously, running a hand through her hair. "Ah, yes, can't miss my political commentary and passive aggression for two hours onstage. Isn't that your idea of a perfect Thursday night?"

"More or less." His smile was sharp, his gaze all but wolfish for a moment, and a chill ran down her spine before his expression softened. "Would it be against your ethics as a journalist to tell me which of ze candidates you are supporting?"

Y/N shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not a fan of any of them at the moment, but we'll see how it shakes out after the second night of debates. After all, the candidates are only human, so I've gotta find a way to look past the skeletons in their closets."

Lafayette raised a wary eyebrow, looking concerned. "Ze 'skeletons in their closets'?" he repeated, and she cracked a grin.

"Yeah, like the bad things from their past?"

He stared at her, expression deadpan. "I am from France. You will 'ave to forgive me zat we do not use murder as an idiom for all wrongdoings."

She couldn't help her laugh at that, covering her mouth with her free hand. "Cut me some slack; I've grown up with it."

He raised his eyebrows. "With murder?"

"No! With the English language!" she defended, laughing, and he couldn't stifle his grin any longer.

"My apologies, chérie. I could not 'elp myself." He held up his hands in his defense, and she rolled her eyes. "Is it safe to assume you are not voting for any of ze candidates zat 'ave murdered anyone?"

She shook her head, amused. "Yeah, that's a fair guess."

"I am glad to 'ear it." He paused a moment, grinning as he nodded to someone behind her, and she raised a brow. She glanced over her shoulder to see none other than Thomas Jefferson approaching, headed down the same stairs she'd taken to reach Lafayette several minutes before, and she groaned internally. Just her luck. Would it be rude to immediately run the moment he reached where she was standing? "Thomas! 'Ow 'ave you been?" Lafayette immediately pulled him into a hug as he reached the pair of them, greeting him like an old friend, and Jefferson pulled back with a small smile of his own.

"Gotta say, I've been worse," he said, "Especially when you weren't here. Spendin' all that time over in France, abandonin' us." He put a hand on his heart, shaking his head with a playfully mournful frown, and Lafayette rolled his eyes.

"Oui, I am sure I was sorely missed." He huffed, shaking his head, and Jefferson cracked a grin. "I left you with an open invitation to come and visit me whenever you pleased, and you never came. I did not feel particularly missed, Monsieur Jefferson."

"Ah, I'll find a way to make it up to you." He shot Lafayette a wink, and in the midst of the interaction, Y/N considered just silently slipping away. They seemed to have forgotten she was there, and if there was ever a time to escape, it was right then. She hesitated. "Though, you never came to visit me back in D.C., either," Jefferson pointed out to his friend, who scoffed, "So who's really to blame?"

"I resent ze accusation, Thomas. I was busy. I am a very important person with very important things to do, and I simply could not find ze time. I tried to visit you, but alas, ze people of France must come first." He sighed dramatically, his entire proclamation made in jest. Jefferson rolled his eyes.

"You implyin' I'm not doin' anything down in D.C.? That hurts, Laf, really."

Lafayette grinned. "Of course not."

It was then that Y/N began to back away from the pair, seemingly forgotten in their enthusiastic greeting, and she figured that she'd be able to escape without a problem. Just after she began to turn, though, Lafayette spoke.

"Ah, Thomas, you know Y/N, hm?" She froze at that. Her retreat no longer seemed as secure as it had previously. His tone was jovial as he motioned to her, and she reluctantly turned back around to face them. "Obviously, from zis," --He motioned to the stage, and Y/N met Jefferson's eyes warily-- "but ze two of you met at ze state dinner, non? With Alex?"

Jefferson seemed to be taking his cues from Y/N at that point, watching her with raised brows as she sighed, plastering on a smile as she turned to Lafayette. "Yeah. Yeah, we've met."

What followed that was a momentary silence. Lafayette had obviously detected rigidity of the interaction, but he hadn't quite figured out what to do with it, and Y/N wasn't at all inclined to force the conversation to happen. She had no interest in making small talk with Jefferson. Lafayette cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at Jefferson, who sighed.

"Yeah, a couple of times now," Jefferson added tiredly. "State dinner wasn't the first."

"Oui? When else?"

Y/N and Jefferson shared a tired glance. The whole interaction was painfully out of character for both of them, their actions and words forced, and while neither of them seemed up to carrying the conversation, it certainly seemed Lafayette was doing his best.

"Just, through work, Lafayette. Nothing all that exciting. I've been covering his campaign for a while now, so by the state dinner, we'd already met once or twice," Y/N explained, offering Lafayette a weak smile. "Y'know, exciting stuff."

"Actually, about the state dinner." Both Y/N and Lafayette were surprised when Jefferson spoke up once again, instead of just letting the conversation entirely drop. She was concerned as to where this was going. "I just," he paused, meeting her eyes, "wanted to apologize, if I ever made you uncomf--"

"Don't worry about it, Secretary Jefferson," Y/N cut him off abruptly with a sigh before plastering on an understanding (obviously forced) smile. He raised his eyebrows. "It's fine; it was a mistake. And this really isn't the time or the place. We can... talk about this later." She huffed, clutching her papers even more tightly against her chest. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't hide how flustered she was.

He paused, searching her expression, clearly not quite believing her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She smiled stiffly.

"Alright," he sighed. He made pointed eye contact with her, squaring his shoulders. His gaze was determined if not frustrated. "We will talk about this some other time. See you around, Lafayette, Y/N." He nodded to both of them, holding Y/N's gaze for just a moment too long, his expression steely. She could feel her heartbeat in her head; the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and he turned and left. Lafayette and Y/N both stayed there a moment longer, frozen to the spot and stunned for entirely different reasons.

There was a skip, before Lafayette broke the silence.

"What happened at ze state dinner?" Lafayette asked, turning to her, but she didn't even hear him. She was still fixated on Jefferson's parting words. Her heart was in her throat as she watched him retreat. Jesus, fuck.

We will talk about this.

___________________

Twitter

@gilafayette started following you.

Y/N raised an eyebrow from where she sat on her hotel bed. The debates were only a few hours away.

@Y/N_L/N: As the second night of Republican primary debates nears, keep up with the biggest issues and the who's-who of the candidates with the Washington Post's recent article about night 1 of the debates. Join us tonight on the official live stream, co-sponsored alongside NBC, and hear it all firsthand from the candidates themselves.

Quoted article: https://www.washingtonpost.com/fakelink/clowns

@BenArnold started following you.

Replying to @Y/N_L/N: @BenArnold: or you could just read my recap, but to each their own ig

She rolled her eyes at the tweet, though smiling to herself. She considered replying to it, but then thought better of it -- his tweet was so clearly in jest, and it was too easy to misinterpret tones over the internet. She opted to like the tweet.

@JamesMdson retweeted your recent tweet.

New message from @A_Hamilton:

@A_Hamilton: wanna grill jefferson about our war debts with france tn???

@A_Hamilton: i could even write u the questions

@A_Hamilton: wait omg open it up to audience questions and claim it's from someone else if u don't wanna attribute it to urself

@A_Hamilton: Suzie from Mississippi asked: why the fuck would you decide not to engage in France's war as secretary of state, not even try to assist them when we HAD the funds and they'd just helped us in our war, and then oppose an improved centralized banking system so that we could unilaterally balance the national budget, asshole?

@Y/N_L/N: have u been drinking again

@A_Hamilton: ok ok hear me out. like he wouldn't suspect a thing!!!! he doesn't even know we're friends why would it b me

@A_Hamilton: wait shit we saw him at the state dinner

@A_Hamilton: fuck nvm just pin the question on lafayette as a bitter french diplomat

@Y/N_L/N: alex.

@Y/N_L/N: i swear to god, you are the ONLY voter THAT invested in our debt to france

@Y/N_L/N: isnt it just like a trade deficit, anyway??

@A_Hamilton: YES THATS THE PROBLEM

@A_Hamilton: he can't even deal w our relations with one of our oldest allies, he was a shitty secretary of state

@Y/N_L/N: clean up the language and ill lead the conversation there

@Y/N_L/N: it's not a completely shit idea

@A_Hamilton: ur the only reporter that matters ily

✅ Read, 5:27 PM.

@gilafayette wants to send you a message. Accept?

@gilafayette: what happened at the state dinner between you and thomas

@gilafayette: i tried to ask him but he is very evasive

@gilafayette: i am concerned about him since then

Y/N's eyes widened as she accepted the message. She'd expected it to just be dropped, for Lafayette to entirely let it go, as it truly wasn't his problem, but there she was. She raised a brow at the last message, though.

Messages to @gilafayette:

@Y/N_L/N: it was nothing important, but why are you concerned about him??

@gilafayette: he has been acting strange since we saw you

@gilafayette: he and i went for coffee and he was preoccupied for the whole time

@gilafayette: and when i tried to ask him he was being very evasive

@Y/N_L/N: it really wasn't anything monumental. hes probably preoccupied w/ the debates, don't read into it

@Y/N_L/N: have u tried just asking him what's on his mind?

@gilafayette: brb

She rolled her eyes at the message. Of course he hadn't even thought to consider the obvious solution: communication. There seemed to be a disconnect between Lafayette and the obvious, though..

Messages to @gilafayette:

@gilafayette: he says he is fine and not to worry

@gilafayette: but i worry

@Y/N_L/N: did he say what was on his mind

@gilafayette: no

@gilafayette: brb i will tell him you asked. perhaps he only does not want to talk to me.

Her pulse skipped as she read the message; her eyes widened. Shit.

@Y/N_L/N: no lafayette pls don't say that

@Y/N_L/N: i didn't ask. i just wanted to give you a better idea for what to ask.

@gilafayette: yes you told me to ask

@gilafayette: exactly

@gilafayette: what is the difference?

She let out a groan, burying her face in her hands. This whole interaction felt so middle-school to her. Y/N said to ask Lafayette to ask Thomas if he's still thinking about her!

@Y/N_L/N: please lafayette just keep me out of this

@Y/N_L/N: don't wanna get involved in ur relationship with him. if i wanted to ask him something id do it on my own time

@gilafayette: wait he has just responded

@Y/N_L/N: so you still sent the message???

@gilafayette: it was too late, i am sorry!

@Y/N_L/N: what did he say??

@gilafayette: "if she wants to know, tell her to ask me herself"

@Y/N_L/N: lafayette i stg

@Y/N_L/N: please tell him this was just a misunderstanding and it wasn't MY question!!

✅ Read, 5:49 PM.

She groaned, letting herself fall back onto her bed as she saw the read receipt. Just her luck.

@Thomas_Jefferson wants to send you a message. Accept?

Oh, fuck. She didn't want to open the message, but at the same time, she was desperate to see what he had sent. In the midst of her internal struggle, it occurred briefly to her that if she didn't just open the message, he'd find some way to confront her about it in person that night, and -- to her dismay -- her mind was made up.

Messages to @Thomas_Jefferson:

@Thomas_Jefferson: did you really just avoid every time i tried to talk to you abt that night and then ask lafayette what was on my mind???

@Thomas_Jefferson: im going to come talk to you after the debate tonight. don't leave the building.

✅ Read, 5:56 PM.

________________

WITH JEFFERSON'S WORDS still in mind, Y/N fled the second night of debates the moment she could cut loose, calling an Uber before they even gave her the go-ahead to leave, not having a second to waste.

She caught his eye on the way out, him surrounded by three campaign staffers and James Madison, and he raised an eyebrow at her. The intimation was obvious: wait up for him.

She broke the eye contact immediately, shaking her head lightly. She had a blue Toyota Camry and a driver named Mandy to find out on the snow-coated street, and she was off long before he had even a chance to try to follow her.

She'd assumed the ordeal was over. She thought it was over with, that she'd somehow managed to escape scot-free, and that she'd managed to avoid Jefferson privately confronting her once and for all.

Boy, was she wrong.

She spent her final evening in the hotel carefree, drafting the second night's article as Lizzo played in the background. She'd packed most of her things, aside from the previous night's bottle of wine and the second pack of Flaming Hot Cheetos she'd bought with her future self in mind (she was patting herself on the back for that one, of course).

She strolled over to the business office on her floor with a pen in her mouth, still humming along to her long-abandoned music, as Ashley had requested that she fax over her handwritten notes from both nights of debates -- she'd called down to the front desk to ask first if they had a fax machine. She hadn't intended to get out of bed if she didn't have to.

Balancing her notes across the keyboard of her laptop in one arm, she opened the door to the office, eyes still fixated on the screen of her computer as she pushed the door with her shoulder. When she looked up, she was met with more than just a printer and a fax machine.

His nose was no longer buried in the book he held on his lap, seemingly distracted by the sound of the door opening, and he had his sweatpant-clad legs propped up on the desk before him, his glasses discarded on the table next to him. She froze when their eyes met.

"Y/N," Jefferson said, looking as stunned as she felt. She blinked. A beat passed. She almost responded, before she remembered the pen she still held in her mouth, continuing into the room and letting the door click shut behind her so that she could put her papers down. "Shit, uh... I can leave if you need the room, or--"

"No, no, you're fine." She finally took the pen out from between her teeth, withdrawing her papers from her laptop, closing it atop the desk. "But I can, ah, come back, if--"

"No, 'course not." He gave her a soft grin, fiddling with the page of his book. "Seems like you're the only one who actually needs the room, anyway."

She returned his smile, though hesitantly, feeling awkward to be alone with him in the small space. "Thanks."

She began shuffling her papers into the fax machine one by one, and the silence grew heavy. She tried not to feel the need to fill it. Yet--

"What brought you here, anyway?" She glanced back at him over her shoulder with an eyebrow raised and found his gaze still trained on her. She shifted her weight, and he chuckled.

"Just tryin' to escape."

She furrowed her brow, not sure if she understood, and another moment passed as she fed her last paper into the fax machine. Now she just had to play the waiting game (which was unfortunately long, considering the number of papers Ashley demanded). "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, lifting his feet off the desk's edge as he leaned forward to rest his forearms atop his legs. "Just needed a moment to myself. I'm sharin' my room here with James, and since I started runnin' for president it hasn't been easy to find some time alone."

She nodded, glancing down at the book in his hand, and grinned. "And you're spending that time reading?"

"You got any better ideas for me?" He raised a playful eyebrow when she turned to lean against where the wraparound desk met the back of the incredibly small room. She only shrugged.

"Could spend this time cleaning up your entire political platform," she suggested, and he laughed.

"Now you're just baitin' me."

"Never!"

He rolled his eyes as he turned the office chair to face her. "Now tell me why I don't believe you."

"Beats me." She plastered on an innocent smile, ultimately pursing her lips, though, to stifle her grin.

"Mhm." He shook his head in amusement, wide grin adorning his lips as he looked down once again, thumbing the nearest page of his book. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Whatcha reading?"

"Nietzsche." He held up the book, showing her the name scrawled across the cover and the spine.

"Zarathustra? Really?" She eyed the book with a wary gaze, and his eyebrows shot toward his hairline, amused.

"Don't tell me you've read it?"

"It seems we have annoyingly similar taste in literature, Secretary Jefferson." She grinned. "Can I get past you to the printer real quick?"

"Hm? Oh, 'course." He glanced over his shoulder, standing and taking a step over immediately as he realized the chair was situated directly in front of where she needed to be. She thanked him softly as she moved past him to collect her newly-inked papers. There was a skip; he hesitated. "So it's back to Secretary Jefferson now, huh?"

She looked over to where he stood beside her, eyebrows raised and heat creeping up the back of her neck. The look in his eyes was expectant, but not demanding. "Is that alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course," he said, wearing a small, almost comforting smile, and she couldn't help but return it, before he added with a grin. "Thomas is better, though."

Despite the amusement in his eyes and the mischief dancing in his smile, Y/N let out a sigh as she pushed herself onto the counter beside the fax machine. "I'm sorry, I really just--"

"I know. 'M sorry. We don't have to get into it, if you don't wanna."

She paused as she met his eyes. The understanding tone he was taking now felt like a far cry from how he'd been earlier in the day, but sitting alone with him in that hotel business office after hours, both of them out of their suits and into their sleepwear, joking about his reading material, she felt like she was just then seeing him clearly. "I..." She gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

"You never responded to my message on Twitter, though," he continued, a grin once again breaking across his face, and she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "C'mon, don't pretend, I saw that you read it."

"Lafayette was out of line!" she defended, "God, he was asking for advice on what he should say to you because he was worried, and somehow I became his advisor, and I literally just told him to ask you what was wrong. I wasn't trying to pry after avoiding you the past few days."

"I kinda figured, after Laf's next couple messages. Basically told me you were chewin' him out for askin' that," he laughed, but raised an eyebrow as he met her eyes. "But you admit you were avoidin' me, though, huh?"

"I--" She paused, mouth open to respond, and eyebrows raised, but she didn't know how to respond. The question caught her entirely by surprise. "I guess so, yeah."

Her face burned as he chuckled lightly, and she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. She bit her lip, folded her arms across her chest. "Don't act like it's some big confession, now; it was kinda obvious. You said all of three words to me in the elevator, shut me down when you were talkin' to Lafayette, and then today, at the debate?" He raised an eyebrow, seemingly enjoying watching her squirm. She didn't look up at him. "Now, that was the most obvious of all. You read my message, made direct eye contact with me, and then were still the first one outta the building. You aren't subtle, sweetheart."

She sighed, crossed her ankles where she sat on the counter, and ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah, I guess that's fair," she sighed, finally looking up at him, and he didn't say a word, waiting for her to continue. He cocked an expectant eyebrow. "Just, after the state dinner, and what happened -- or really, what almost happened," she sighed, and the corners of his lips quirked up. "I really didn't wanna talk to you, or know how to, and I'm sorry, I just-- What would I have said? What was I supposed to say? 'So, I know I, like, almost let you kiss me three weeks ago, but now I'm gonna grill you about fiscal policy on national television! Isn't that fun?'" She plastered on an exaggerated smile, mocking the hypothetical, and he laughed.

"That would've been a good start." She rolled her eyes, bit her lips, and his smile softened. "Could've at least let me talk to you, though."

She sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, I should've, but I think I just scared myself into thinking talking to you meant my immediate demise."

"Now, that offends me a little," he teased, "I'm nothin' if not approachable, and I don't like hearin' you suggest otherwise."

She pursed her lips as she met his eyes. "Oh, of course. The Republican presidential frontrunner, who's always surrounded by people much more important than me, and is never seen in public without an entourage. The easiest to talk to." He didn't comment on the thinly veiled confession of insecurity contained in her dry sarcasm, but instead raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't I?" His tone, his wide grin both seemed to suggest that he was joking, but something in how he looked at Y/N made her breath catch.

"Yeah," she said, softly, "I guess you are." She swallowed, looking down at her feet, and the only sound reverberating through the little room was the cranking of the aging fax machine that still held her notes. The hush that fell over them only stretched on.

"Can I just--"

"I wanted to--"

They both looked up at once, though, voices overlapping as they chose the same moment to break the silence, and Thomas grinned. Y/N let out a light laugh. "You can go first."

"Yeah?" he asked, hesitant. She nodded, shooting him a wink.

"The floor is yours."

"Much appreciated." They shared an anticipatory glance, the tension in the room magnified by the close proximity the little space had pushed them into. They weren't even feet apart. "Anyway, I just, at least, wanna apologize."

Y/N quirked up an eyebrow. "What for?"

"The state dinner." She sighed heavily, raking a hand through her hair, and he continued, "C'mon, don't pretend there's nothin' to talk about there. I can't let myself ignore it, so I'm sorry." She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from squirming under his gaze, afraid to break the eye contact as he searched her expression. "Seemed like I scared you that night, and I wanna make sure I didn't make you feel unsafe, or uncomfortable, or... Just felt like I put you in a bad position, or made you feel like you couldn't leave because of me, since I was still the Secretary of State and all, and..." He trailed off as he saw Y/N raise an amused eyebrow, failing to stifle a grin at his words, and hardly stifling a laugh. He huffed, but there was no real frustration behind his smile. "Gimme a break, it's happened!"

"What, you've cornered other hot reporters in your office and leveraged your title against them?" she teased, and he rolled his eyes, cracking a grin.

"I usually go for hot Congresswomen, but none were around, so I figured you'd have to do."

"You've tried to stick it on Nancy Pelosi?" she asked in mock disbelief, and he laughed, carding a hand through his hair, "Can I quote you on that?"

"May wanna keep it off the record, just this once." He winked, and she couldn't help her light huff, playful disappointment mingling with amusement. He pursed his lips. "But seriously, Y/N, hope I didn't scare you."

"No sweat, Thomas, I don't scare easy." She gave him a soft smile, and he raised a brow, surprised to hear her using his first name again, but he held his tongue. She swallowed thickly, realizing it at the same time. "I'm not about to become your Monica Lewinsky, if that's what you're worried about -- you didn't put me in any position I didn't wanna be in." Her last few words had even her taking pause, surprised at having said them aloud. It felt more like a confession than a reassurance, and with that, Thomas's brows shot toward his hairline, and a small smirk rested on his lips. Y/N could feel her heart in her throat as she waited for him to respond.

"'I didn't put you in any position you didn't wanna be in,' huh?" he repeated slowly, his smug smile growing as her eyes slowly began to widen; she didn't like watching him take pleasure in this.

"I--" She cut herself off as he took a step toward her, pushing herself further back where she sat on the edge of the desk. "Yeah," she breathed, worried that her heart would beat out of her chest if she said much more.

"So--" One of his hands landed beside her on the desk as his stare became increasingly self-contented, "What if you ended up in that position again, hm?" His other large hand came to rest on her right knee; he was now hovering just inches above her, and her pulse threatened to stop altogether as she looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"Thomas," she said softly, biting her lip, and she couldn't help but notice him track the movement, his gaze falling momentarily to her mouth. His hand lifted from her knee to her jaw, brushing a hair away from her face before running his thumb along her cheekbone, cupping her cheek. "What are you doing?" she asked, breathlessly.

"This time, is it a position you don't wanna be in?" he asked, the hand that previously sat on the desk now meeting her waist, pulling her closer to him. Something about his smile told her that he was confident in what her answer would be. He raised an eyebrow.

"What..." Her voice faltered as he pulled her into him, her legs now straddling his waist from atop the desk, and she prayed he didn't catch it when her gaze fell to his lips, if only for a moment. (The way he grinned told her he'd definitely caught it.) He stilled millimeters away from her lips, and the movement wasn't even conscious as her arms wrapped around his neck. "Thomas."

He smiled, his nose brushing against hers, and he couldn't help that his grin grew when she shivered at the contact. "Y/N," he whispered, too close even to make out her full face, but he could see every detail of her shining eyes clearly, could trace every ridge of her lips.

She was terrified. Every nerve in her body seemed to be standing on end, and she could feel everything. Even the slightest movements made her pulse jump -- the pads of his fingers digging into her waist, his breath as it fluttered across her cheek, him pulling her impossibly closer, yet still, not quite close enough. She swallowed hard, looking into his eyes. "Kiss me."

He obliged her immediately, his hand gripping her jaw as his lips moved against hers, and she reacted in the same moment. One of her hands weaved itself into his hair, while the other sank into the back of his old college t-shirt. His tongue pushed insistently past her lips, and she arched against him in an effort to pull him ever closer, pushing herself toward the edge of the desk. His hand slid down to hook itself under her thigh, and his grip tightened on her leg as she sighed against him. He nipped at her bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth, but nearly lost it when he yanked at her hair, and she let out a soft, needy whine against his mouth -- the kiss immediately became harsher, faster; in seconds it was all teeth and tongue. Y/N didn't know when his lips had begun to trail down her neck, didn't realize his hands began to tug at her shirt until she felt his fingers brush against her stomach, and she shuddered. She gasped as he scraped his teeth over the base of her neck, sucking a hickey into the skin, and she rolled her hips involuntarily up against his. He groaned against her.

"Fuck," she whispered as his hands finally breached the hem of her shirt, pressing into the bare skin of her waist, and she dragged her nails down across his back, feeling his muscles rippling in his shoulders as he pulled her harshly against himself.

"Shit, sweetheart." She yanked at his hair, began kissing along his jawline, grinding her hips persistently up against his. "Y/N," he groaned, his nails beginning to dig directly into her hips. Her movements faltered a moment. She swallowed.

It must have been then that she came to her senses. She couldn't have placed exactly when, or why she broke it off, but it must have been when she heard her name out of his mouth, against her skin, when she realized exactly where she was. She pulled back from him, gasping for air, her hands against his chest, and he raised his eyebrows.

"What...?" he breathed, equally winded, "What's wrong? Did I do somethin'?"

Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him, shaking her head slowly, but her expression was despairing, the gravity of the situation just then beginning to sink in.

"I..." She trailed off, letting out a huff as she ran a hand through her hair, "No, no, it... it's not you, but..." She pulled further back, pushing him gently away as she broke out of his grasp. The look in his eyes was worried, but more so disappointed. "We can't do this, Thomas. Fuck, this was a mistake. What were we thinking? I just--"

She groaned softly, burying her face into her hands before hopping off of the desk, scrambling to collect her laptop and her papers. His eyes widened as she began to rush to leave the room.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart!" He grabbed ahold of her arm as she began to turn away, and she yanked it from his fingers. "Y/N, c'mon, wait a minute."

"This can't happen! Don't you get it?" she said. "This was so fucking stupid. I'm a political journalist, Thomas, and you're running for President, for God's sake! Can you imagine what would happen if we hooked up? If that somehow leaked?"

"Wait, be reasonable--"

"I'd become the next fucking Monica Lewinsky, and there goes your campaign, and there goes my career. Next I get accused of biased reporting, and you get accused of foul play with the media." She shook her head, shuffling her papers together as she turned to leave. "I'm sorry. I... I'm so sorry, this was such a mistake."

"Y/N." His voice was steady, but firm. "Listen to me: no one's losin' their career, no one's life is shatterin' because of this. Relax, darlin'. Leave if you want to, but relax. I'm not gonna try to make you stay."

She hesitated as he rested his hands on her biceps, as they ghosted down her arms. He smiled. "Don't get me wrong, you're more than welcome to stay, but I won't hold it against you if you don't."

"I can't do this, Thomas," she breathed, and he chuckled. Despite his small smile, and despite what genuinely were his best efforts, disappointment clouded his gaze, and he did a poor job of hiding it.

"Okay. Then go." His voice was soft, gentle. "If you ever change your mind, though, just know that I'm the only one with access to my Twitter messages. You know how to reach me if you want to." He grinned as he said that, and Y/N’s eyes widened. Did he just offer himself up as a booty call?

The thought had her breath hitching in the back of her throat. The look in his eyes told her that he was being perfectly sincere.

"I'm sorry,” she finally said, voice only just above a whisper, and he nodded.

"Don't worry about it.” There was a skip. “I'll see you soon, Y/N.”

“Bye, Thomas.” She held his gaze a moment longer, struggling to bring herself to leave, but knowing she couldn’t stay. He sent her a wink, and she finally began to move.

She was out the door without another word, her breathing shaky as she rushed back to her hotel room. She was desperate to immediately open her phone, to text Angelica or Alex, but shit, if that wouldn't ruin her life. Angelica would find some way to convince her to quit her job, or somehow weasel her way out of her assignment on the 2020 election, and Alex would be worse yet -- he'd take it straight back to Thomas and confront him.

She groaned into her hands as she walked into her bathroom. A cold, cleansing shower was what she needed at that moment. The first thing she saw as she walked into the bathroom, though, was a deep purple hickey, at the base of her neck; she'd be covering that up for weeks, she thought as she drew closer to the mirror, running a hand over it as she examined the area. Yet, it also left her with several 'what if's -- what if she hadn't stopped it? What if she were to let this happen? What if, for once in her life, she stopped worrying, let herself live, took a risk?

What if she'd decided to stay?

She met her own eyes in the mirror as she entertained the thought, and she swallowed roughly.

313 notes · View notes

vannahfanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Can’t Go Back

Category: Angst, Tragedy

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo

Additional Tags: Vigilante! Izuku

The silver moon hung low in the cloudy night sky, just a sliver of white curved down into a thin Cheshire cat smile. Its weak beams failed to penetrate the dark shadows draped over the city. Puddles of deep black coated the quiet buildings and sleeping homesteads like fleece blankets, providing plenty of cover for the unsavoury and haunted souls that wandered the backstreets on lonely nights such as these. It was in these orbs of blackness that Izuku lurked, stalking his prey with all the grace and menace of an attuned predator.

His emerald eyes focused on the crouched form perched at the back door of the jewelry shop. Metal glinted in the sparse lowlight, reflecting off the thin wire the masked man was using to pick the pair of sturdy locks while Izuku hunched in the darkness, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The thief spared every few moments to glance around and critically inspect his surroundings; it was obviously not his first heist. Of course, it didn’t matter much to Izuku whether he was experienced or not; all criminals could kill, whether it was their first steal or their hundredth.

The villain exclaimed a small triumphed “Yes!” as the lock clicked and the back door creaked open. The thief pocketed his thievery tools as he stood up. When he placed the flat of his hand against the door to push it open, that was when Izuku zoomed out of the darkness, green lightning crackling across his body as the energy of his Quirk blasted through his being.

The villain exclaimed in both in shock and anger as Izuku slammed his cheek against the rough brick wall of the exterior building. Izuku’s elbow jammed down against his cervical vertebrae, placing significant pressure on his trachea from the backside. The villain spluttered and wheezed as his shaking fingers fumbled for the knife in his back jean pocket. He then released an agonized scream as Izuku’s steel-plated boots slammed into it, crushing every bone in his hand against the jewelry store wall. His cries faded into pathetic whimpers and snivels, rising in pitch only when the green-haired young man pressed his bruised and bleeding hand further into the gritty brick.

“It’s a bit late to be out shopping, don’tcha think?” Izuku purred in the villain’s ear. The steel edge of malice poisoned his almost childishly innocent tone of voice. The burglar whined loudly as Izuku pressed his full body weight into his back, imprinting the groove lines of the brick into his skin. “I’ve got three questions for you,” Izuku growled, his voice dropping an octave. Terrified, the thief nodded emphatically to show he was listening. “Have you ever committed a home invasion?”

The villain hesitated to answer, worrying his bloodied bottom lip between his teeth. He then bit through the sensitive, plush skin as Izuku slammed the metal-reinforced toe of his boot into the back of his knee, forcing his left leg to crumple when his patella shattered between the force of Izuku’s kick smashing it against the hard brick. A series of loud howls and yowls began to spill from his lips, morphing into gurgles as the red blood streamed down his throat, and Izuku hurriedly smothered his mouth into the palm of his white leather glove.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Izuku cajoled in mock sweetness. “You just answer my questions honestly, and we’ll come to an agreement, yeah? Now, let’s try this again,” he tutted as the burglar stared up at him through wide, watery eyes. “Have you ever committed a home invasion?” When Izuku removed his hand from his mouth, the villain spat out clots of thick red blood.

“Yes! Yes! I have,” he admitted with a low, mournful groan. Izuku clicked his tongue against his front teeth, making the villain flinch.

“All right. Next question- have you ever killed anyone?”

“Nah, nah, man! I ain’t like that, I ain’t like that!” The thief began to blabber desperately. “Look, I stole some TVs and some stereos, and pilfered some jewelry every now ‘n then, but I ain’t never killed nobody!” It was evident that his promises fell on deaf, disbelieving ears, so he switched tactics. “Look man, I ain’t a saint, I know that. I got kids, man! I gotta provide, and I know it ain’t right, but I love my kids, man! I ain’t never killed nobody, man, I don’t my kids’ daddy to be a murderer- a thief, but not a killer, man!”

Through lidded eyes, Izuku studied the man’s own tearful ones. His irises swam with clear desperation and fright, but so far, the green-haired boy could detect no lie. Izuku clicked his tongue again, but this time in dissatisfaction that it seemed he had yet again failed to find the man he’d been hunting for six months. The man mistook it as an inadequate answer to his question, for he began to sob loudly and plead more profusely.

“Shut up!” Izuku barked, the villain’s warbling moans irritating him. The villain immediately clamped his mouth shut, bottom lip wobbling. “I have one more question for you. December 23rd, last year, the Red Pine Apartment complex- know anything about it?” Confusion glazed the villain’s eyes as he struggled to search his memory for any useful information for Izuku. Izuku raised an eyebrow when lucidity suddenly flooded his dark irises, and the vigilante wondered if perhaps he’d finally stumbled on a helpful lead.

“O-oh, man, you talkin’ about that lady that got murdered in the home invasion, right? By that serial burglar? Look, man, that was real tragic, she seemed like a real nice lady; I-I-I read about it in the paper, y’see,” he clarified quickly as Izuku began to take an express interest in his ramblings. “I’m sorry, man, I don’t know nothin’ about it, I swear on my kids’ lives-”

“Don’t do that,” Izuku scolded harshly. The burglar gulped and nodded in understanding before continuing, his voice soft with what seemed to be genuine sympathy.

“Look, guy, I get it. That lady was clearly someone to ya. I wish I knew anything that would help you find who did that to her, honest, man. But I’m just a petty thief scrappin’ a livin’ the best I know how. I don’t know nothin’ about no murder. Honest, man.” With a heavy sigh, Izuku’s crushing grip on the man relaxed ever-so-slightly, enough for the thief to breath properly and release a shaky sigh. Izuku was loathed to admit it, but he really did just seem to be a petty thief, not the cold-blooded murderer that he was searching for. Izuku sucked his bottom lip between his lip as he began to mumble nonsensically to himself about his next course of action in his search for his killer. After a few minutes of listening to his whispered rambling, the thief piped up hopefully, “S-so can I go, man?”

“Absolutely not. You’re still a criminal,” Izuku huffed and promptly slammed the man’s forehead against the wall. The air sang with a sickening crack as blood burst against the brick and hairline fractures spiderwebbed across the front of the man’s skull. The villain immediately fell limp, bending back against Izuku, who just stepped aside and allowed him to slam onto his back against the alley floor. Izuku pulled his newest prepaid cell phone, preparing to dial 9-1-1 to call for the police to pick up the unconscious man. Just as his thumb hovered over the “9” button, his instincts began buzzing with a fervor as they sensed an incoming wave of fury, bloodlust, and betrayal.

Izuku ignited his Quirk and zoomed down to the end of the alley without even turning to see who was approaching, because he knew. In the space his emerald-haired head had just occupied, explosions bloomed as a hulky, yowling figure leapt down from the nearby rooftop, hands sparking with multiple blasts. Izuku rolled to land and flipped around, crouching down low as he glared daggers at the muscled ash-blond young man hunching over the burglar currently puddling blood against the dirty cobblestone. With the angle of the sparse moonlight, Izuku could see the white puffs of steamy breath as the boy exhaled a savage growl.

“Deku.”

The clouds parted, spilling the gleaming white light down to earth. The beams coalesced against the newcomer’s form. They glinted off the vermillion eyes burning within the jagged black mask framing his angular face, highlighted the bright orange bands of his hero suit, and reflected off the smooth metal framing the gigantic gauntlets enclosing his clenched fists. Izuku slowly stood up, flexing his fingers as bright green lightning skittered over his gloves.

“Kacchan,” Izuku replied coolly, deigning to shoot a disdainful sneer at his former friend and classmate. Katsuki snarled and lunged forward threateningly, clearly angered by the fact that Izuku still referred to him by the childhood nickname. Katsuki’s muscles tensed from head-to-toe as he refrained from blasting across the alleyway to pummel Izuku with everything he had. Izuku tilted his head to the side with a click of his tongue. “Where’s the entourage? It’s unusual to see you without Eijirou or Mina,” he questioned casually, tone laced with scathing scorn.

“Shut up! Stop with the small talk! I left those dumbasses behind because they’ll just get in the way!” Katsuki yelled, hand cutting through the humid night air as his hand flung to the side in a furious gesture. His other fist clenched so tightly that it trembled. “Six months… We’ve been doing this for six months,” he whispered, voice cracking with emotions as his eyes flooded with misery and desperation. Izuku’s eyes widened slightly as a completely shattered expression overtook Katsuki’s usually hard, unforgiving features. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to do this. Come back with me, Deku, All Might can protect you-”

“I don’t need anyone’s protection!” Izuku shouted. As he slammed his metal-plated boot into the ground, fissures spiderwebbed underneath him, making his body shift as the ground under his feet heaved and distorted. Katsuki scowled viciously at Izuku’s open display of hostility, that scowl so deep that the pink of his gums shone against the whites of his teeth. Izuku’s body quaked as he balled up his fists tight, red streams coursing over his scarred skin as the green sparks jumped all over his body. “I can’t go back. I can’t stop until I know-”

“You’re mom’s dead, okay?!” As Katsuki’s voice cracked like a whip in the otherwise quiet night air, a cold flush seeped into Izuku’s being, freezing him down to his bones. Katsuki stared imploringly at him, stepping over the still-bleeding petty thief to hold out both his arms placatingly. Though Izuku’s instincts yowled at him to surge forward and clock him in the jaw, he reigned himself in, but only just. “She’s dead,” Katsuki whispered in a ghost of a breath.

Izuku wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of the fading moonlight or not, but he swore he saw sympathetic tears glinting in the corners of Katsuki’s eyes. “I know you wanna know who did that to her. I know you’re angry. God, Deku, I understand anger better than anyone!” he said, splaying his hand out over his heart as his voice rose with mounting emotion. “But fuck, dude, do you think she’d want this? For you to turn against everything you’ve ever known, everything you’ve ever wanted, and just go on a vengeance spree? Don’t be fucking hypocrite, dude! You remember what happened to Four-Eyes!”

The memory flooded Izuku’s mouth with bitter acid. He’s right. You had to stop Iida that time. Now here’s Kacchan, trying to keep you from making the same mistakes- Izuku quickly squashed the notion, hardening his heart once more before he slipped away from his path. I can’t stop until I know. I can’t stop until the person that did that- His breath hitched in his throat with the coming of horrid visions, flashes of arcs of blood splashed over the walls and floors, of overturned furniture and broken glass, of ingredients for a home-cooked meal still laid out on the kitchen counter, of his mother’s body lying prone staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes-

“Shut up! Shut up, Kacchan!” Izuku screamed and grabbed the side of his head to wrench his eyes shut. “You don’t know! You don’t know what it’s like! You didn’t see what that monster did to her!” His eyes shot open, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he glared thunderously at the recently graduated hero. A sob choked him, making him struggle to release his words. “I should’ve been there. If I’d only gotten there ten minutes sooner, she’d still be here and that bastard would be rotting in a prison cell where he belongs!” The sparks increased in intensity as he flexed his arms hard, leather groaning as they were strained under his increasingly tight grip. “I can’t stop now, Kacchan. Not now.”

“Fucking listen to yourself!” Katsuki pressed, taking another step forward. Izuku reacted this time by jerking forward, priming himself should the blond dare to push closer. Katsuki seemed oblivious to the looming threat, red eyes as wide as blood moons as he tried desperately to beseech the vigilante. “It’s not your fault, Izuku.” Izuku relaxed just the slightest as his friend addressed him by name, his real name. Katsuki’s voice was soft, pleading, honeyed with promise and brotherhood. “I know what it’s like to blame yourself for somethin’ bad. You know that I know. Don’t do this. Don’t go down this road.” Katsuki removed one of his gauntlets; it clanged to the ground, rolling a foot or so away to bump against the side of the building walling the alley. Katsuki’s expression was nothing sort of begging as he extended his hand to Izuku. “Please. Izuku. Come home.”

Izuku was tempted. So, so tempted. His fingers twitched as the inane desire gripped him, and his hand even rose a few centimeters. Home. Home. Home. The word pulsed in his mind, a repetitive drum hammering away at the wall of resolve he’s built up for months. Chips and cracks appeared in the fortification, dust raining down as Katsuki’s plea assaulted his will. Home.

“Welcome home, Izuku! I missed you so much. Tell me all about school- oh, but don’t make me cry, okay?”

Izuku sucked in a strangled breath as the voice of the person he’d never see again rang in his head. Hissing, he grabbed his hand and held it, physically restraining himself to squash the last dregs of the desire tainting his nerves. His emerald eyes hardened into shining gems rough and unpolished with malice.

“Sorry, Kacchan. I told you already. I can’t go back now.” Without warning, Izuku sprang at him, giving Katsuki no time to react as he aimed a savage kick to the side of his body. Katsuki’s reflexes were sharper than ever, so he managed to wedge his remaining gauntlet between himself and Izuku’s oncoming metal-coated boot. Boosted by the insane strength of Izuku’s Quirk, the blow crippled the metal of the gauntlet, making it crumple like aluminum wrap under the fierce assault of the strike. The force propagated across the surface to ripple into Katsuki’s body, and the boy yelped as he was abruptly flung sideways, right into the brick wall. The hard surface exploded upon his impact, clouding white, chalky dust into the air. Katsuki’s limp body slumped over the edge of the giant hole he’d created, twitched beneath a few cracked bricks. He was barely conscious, groaning Izuku’s name. Izuku straddled his legs where they stuck out into the alley, eyes lidded.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it- how easily he’d subdued Katsuki Bakugo, his greatest rival and fiercest competitor. It was so unlike Katsuki to be just immediately flattened, especially by one blow. But here he was, moaning as he cradled his broken ribs with blood streaming from the large gash in the side of his head. His red eyes peeked through the slits of his eyes, hazily focusing on the green-haired vigilante as he stepped away from the scene.

“Get back here… Motherfucker…” Katsuki’s voice warbled with exhaustion from the concussion he was probably sporting. The bricks shifted and clattered off his form as he half-climbed, half-stumbled out of the hole. Izuku glanced over his shoulder from the entrance of the alley to see Katsuki barely standing, knees wobbling as he staggered after him. Scratches littered his skin and blood spattered his black-and-orange costume. “Get back here, Deku! I ain’t done yet!” he demanded, louder. In the next second, his legs gave out and he slammed face-first into the cobblestone. Izuku watched him slowly wiggle with a mixture of pity and satisfaction. “Fuck,” Katsuki wheezed, clearly struggling not to cry. “I just… I just want… I wanted things to be like they used to,” he sniffed pathetically. The tears blotted his face because he hadn’t the strength to lift a hand to wipe his face.

Izuku stared down at him mournfully.

“They can’t, Kacchan. They just can’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku left Katsuki and the petty thief in the alleyway. With all the noise, someone would’ve heard and called the authorities. Izuku activated his Quirk to place some distance between himself and the crime scene. His mind was a blank slate, thoughtless as he erased all urges to turn around and hug Katsuki while bawling his eyes out.

After a few minutes of leaping across the rooftops, Izuku crouched down onto the flat roof of a department store. He smiled wanly as he looked up at the night sky, where a few stars were stubbornly blinking behind the thick sheet of gray clouds.

“Sorry, Mom. You’re probably crying right now, huh? Sorry… But I can’t go back- not until someone pays.”

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @simplybakugou @lovelusional @wesparklebitch

#vigilante!izuku #vigilante!deku #platonic bakudeku #bakudeku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero #mha fanfic #my hero academia fanfic #boku no hero academia fanfic #bnha fanfic #my hero fanfic

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asphalt-cocktail · 5 years ago

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For the Sake of Content- Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Medici Ivory and Coral Clay

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Hey cuties! Back at it again with another chapter! Thank you for your patience! I honestly am so thrilled with all of the lovely comments and likes/reblogs I have been getting. I even go through and read the tags because i crave validation. But for real though, they are all seriously so sweet and I love all of the support and want to thank you all for it! I do have some angst planned for future chapters though, got to make some young discourse to keep thing spicy, but don’t worry, I want to keep this story light and funny so it wont be anything too bad! also PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DM me if I have missed your tag! I feel like I am missing some people in my tag reblogs.

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, smut, fluff, some friendly banter between roger and reader, consensual recording, not proof read

Word Count: 3k

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

Freddie’s dark brown eyes practically gawked at you, “You what!” He grinned. Your face flushed and you swirled around your bottomless mimosa, “I knew you would start doing live streams,” He eagerly stabbed his fork into the yolk of his eggs Benedict, cracking it and causing the yellow liquid to ooze down the sides of the biscuit, “I knew you would; how are your clients? Do you have regulars? Do they ask you to do anything- kinky?”

As Freddie rambled on, your eyes zoned in on his egg yolk, the viscous liquid slowly oozing out of the broken egg and falling down his plate. Should you tell Freddie about Roger? No you couldn’t, that would bring on another series of questions you were definitely not prepared to answer no matter how many bottomless mimosas you had at your biweekly Sunday brunch.

“[Y/N]” Freddie spoke, his tone somewhat sharp, “Are you paying attention? I want to know the details.” The curious glint in his eyes hadn’t dampened.

You gave him a shy smile, “Yeah, I have a few regulars, they’re all nice, some are a little creepy, but I never show my face,” Well, that was a lie. Tonight, was going to be the first night you showed your face on camera and was also the first night you and Roger would film together.

The two of you hadn’t had anything special planned, you were going to change your tips around to reflect different actions people could pay for. It was bound to be fun, right?

You couldn’t shake the nervous jitters from your mind even after your brunch with Freddie and his probing questions. You loved him dearly, but he was often too nosey for his own good. He wouldn’t dare tell a soul the information he knew, but it was as though his very being needed the substance to survive. His head was full of knowledge and he just soaked it up like a delicate sea sponge in an ocean of information.

When you returned to your apartment, you were surprised to see the furniture moved around and a large tarp covering the floor closest to the walls in the living room, “Uh, Roger?” you called out, hanging your keys on the shelf, surely you didn’t drink that much… right?

You closed your eyes for a few long seconds and reopened them, yup, this was real all right, “Roger!” You called louder, “What’s up with the living room?” You kicked your shoes off and walked further into your home before you stopped in the kitchen.

Surprisingly enough, Roger was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an old faded tee shirt; it was sloppy even for your low standards. Roger looked up at you from his bowl of pasts, mid bite, “What?” He asked with a mouth full of noodles and sauce.

“You’re disgusting.” You mumbled, “What’s up with the living room?” You repeated your question from earlier.

“What do you mean?” He asked, clueless as ever.

You let out a puff of air in frustration, “The living room Roger, everything is all moved around and there’s a tarp on the floor. What are you doing? Opening a mud wrestling pit?” The annoyance in your voice was very evident.

“Oh, I picked up a few buckets of paint so we could finally paint the paneling, the mud wrestling is a good idea though, you think we could charge for it?”

You rolled your eyes at his joke- you hoped it was a joke- and a small smile graced your face, “What colors did you pick out?” You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the prospect of changing the drab, old, and dusty wood paneling that encased your living room walls.

“You know that cream color you were talking about? It turns out it’s actually called Medici Ivory, so I got a few buckets of that and a bucket of this nice red color called Coral Clay.” He finished up the last fork full of his pasta and got up, rinsing it in the sink, “We can paint right now if you go change.”

You looked down, realizing you didn’t want to get your brunch clothes dirty, “Right, I’ll be right back.”

After you quickly changed into some sloppy clothes you and Roger set out to paint the wood paneling, “You know I realized I said you get two walls and I get two, but there are really only three wall in the living room.” Roger pointed out, “I mean, we could paint the little parts of the wall outside of the kitchen, but then I would want to paint the kitchen too.” He thought out, chewing on his plump lower lip.

You swallowed thickly, distracted by the way his pretty pink lips popped out from his mouth after he sucked on it, “Well you can have two and I’ll have the accent wall.” You offered.

Roger looked at you as though you were a moron, “You cant have an accent wall as the lighter color,” He said in a matter of fact tone, “I’ll take it and you can paint the other two cream.”

After a few more minutes of planning, you and Roger finally decided upon who was getting what walls, Roger pointed out it didn’t matter what color the walls were, his decorations were still going to be hung back up. So, he got one wall to paint Coral Clay, and you got the remaining walls to paint Medici Ivory.

You connected your phone to the Bluetooth speaker before Roger could beat you to it and shuffled your favorite playlist on Spotify. Take Me To The River by the Talking Heads began to flood your apartment. You hummed along to the song and began to paint, long even brush strokes on the wall, staining the ugly wood paneling Medici Ivory. As your playlist cycled and paint began to coat the walls you glanced over at Roger’s side of the wall, there were uneven splotches and awkward shapes that coated it. No cohesion at all.

You frowned, “What are you doing to the walls, Roger?” You frowned, “You can’t paint like that.” You scolded him.

Roger pulled away, allowing the brush to loosely hang from his hand, gobs of Medici Ivory dripped onto the tarp making a soft pitter patter noise that blended in with your music, “What? You’re doing better than me?” He asked.

You looked at him in disbelief, “Yeah, I am.” You said pointedly, “This is how you’re supposed to paint,” You said, demonstrating with long even brush strokes, “This isn’t finger painting.”

Roger scoffed and flicked his brush at you, your clothes staining the creamy off-white paint, “I suppose it isn’t.” He responded in a huff.

Your eyes narrowed “Real mature, Roger.” You said going back to painting next to him.

Roger continued to defy you, painting in big circles on the wall and ignoring the clumps and uneven layering that covered the wood panels. You turned towards him and flicked your brush at him, this time little spots of white paint speckled his face causing him to close his eyes and jump, “Oh, you’re going to get it now.” You heard Roger mumble as you turned away from him.

In the blind of an eye you felt cold liquid smearing and staining your skin. A shiver ran through your body feeling Roger’s calloused fingers roughly rub across your cheek “Roger!” You shrilly yelled, bringing your hand up to wipe the paint off, only to smear it.

You swiped your hand across your brush, coating it in the goopy, off white liquid and lunged at him. Roger stumbled backwards and fought your hand as it tried to smear the paint on his face. Your brush had fallen, mushing between your two bodies and covering your shirts in paint. Your legs were firmly planted on either side of Roger’s waist as you straddled and fought against him, still trying to palm the off viscous substance onto his perfectly soft skin.

“Come on, [Y/N],” Roger whined, trying to hide is laughter, “You’re dropping it in my hair!”

“You’re dropping it in my hair!” You mocked in a dopey voice.

Roger gaped at you, “I do not sound like that!” He protested, a shock of laughter rumbling through him and causing his guard to drop.

Your hand came down, smearing Medici Ivory onto his cheek, your hand slickly gliding off his skin. Before you had time to react Roger flipped the two of you over and within a few minutes the two of you were covered in stripes of paint, “You arse!” He was breathless from laughter, still straddling you, “I have to shower now.”

You hummed back laughter of your own and wiggled underneath him in an attempt to break free. Roger wasn’t having it, so you stayed trapped beneath his warm, out of breath body. Suddenly, you were aware of the closeness of your two bodies. His hot breath puffed against the paint that stained your skin causing you to shiver. Roger cleared his throat. The tension in the room was thick. Roger’s erection pressed against your thigh, when did that get there? Your ears felt like they were ringing, the music but a muffled sound that filled them.

“I should get in the shower, the we can do that camera stuff, yeah?” Roger asked, suddenly leaning up. Cool air flooded your clothed chest. It worked in tandem with the paint and caused you to shiver

You swallowed thickly and nodded your head, “Did- uh,” you couldn’t find the proper words to come out of your mouth, “Did you want me to wear anything specific?” you asked.

Roger settled back, his hand tracing soft patterns on your knees, “You could join me, you know, to save on water…” He trailed off, not looking at you.

You shifted and nodded your head, “Yeah, to save water.” You said, suddenly nervous, “Do… Do you want to film it?” You knew very well that the two of you would just be showering.

Roger looked up at you, his typically bright blue eyes now dark and filled with a naughty glint, “Yeah, we can your phone in and see what happens.”

It didn’t take long for you to find yourself pressed against the cold tile of your small steam filled shower. You hissed against Roger’s mouth as the contrasting temperature bit into your skin and arched your back against him. He roughly sucked your lower lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth across it as he pulled away and allowed it to plop back into place.

It was obvious to you that this was going to be different from the first time you and Roger had sex. He was rougher, needier, more dominant with his touches. You didn’t know if it was the amount of steam from the scorching hot water or his touches that caused you to feel dizzy and your brain to spin. Roger quickly turned you over, his hands smoothing over the globes of your ass. You quickly got the message and braced your hands on the wall in front of you.

You swayed your hips from side to side, impatiently waiting for Roger to do something. “Fuck” He silently cursed to himself, “What’s your password?”

Oh right.

You were supposed to be filming this to put on your snapchat. Was your phone waterproof? What if Roger dropped it? How was he going to plow you into next week and hold onto your phone?

The series of questions that flooded your brain was cut short by Roger lightly tapping your cheek, “Come on, before I lose my stiffy.”

“Oh, it’s uh 2580.” You answered, thankful that Roger couldn’t see your embarrassment.

Roger scoffed, “Really? Right down the middle?” He chastised.

“It’s fine- Oh fuck” You hissed out feeling Roger’s thick fingers filling you up, pumping in and out of your throbbing core. You hummed with pleasure and pushed back against his fingers, but as quickly as they filled you, they were gone.

Roger roughly filled you up with his cock, you gasped, feeling him stretch you open. He didn’t leave much time for you to adjust to his still unfamiliar size before he sharply snapped his hips against yours. Your back arched and you kept your hands firmly splayed against the wall. Your legs spread further apart, and your mouth fell open as sinful noises began to spill from it.

“Fuck.” Roger grunted, his hips slapping loudly against yours, “That feel good baby?” He said as he grabbed the meat of your ass and kneaded it in his hand, spreading it apart and getting a perfect view of his cock disappearing into you.

Roger’s calloused hand came down, roughly smacking your cheek. He bit his lip and watched it jiggle under his hand. The water amplified the stinging sensation that rang through your bones. You let out a breathy gasp, “It feels so good,” You slurred. Your mind was drunk with pleasure, “Fuck me harder.” You preened, pushing your hips back against him.

Roger shifted behind you, “You want me to fuck you harder?” He asked, roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against him. Your face now rested against the cool tile as you sat up on an angle. Rogers sharp and methodical thrusts caused you to rhythmically jolt forward, the sensitive skin of your breasts occasionally brushing against the cool tile. The flood of sensations caused every nerve in your body to stand on end.

“Yeah, fuck me harder, Rog.” You practically purred his name, letting it roll off your tongue like honey.

Roger pressed his back against yours. His lips latched onto your shoulder, biting at the soft skin and running his tongue over the teeth marks he pressed into you. One of his hands snuck around to your chest, groping and fondling your painfully ignored tits in his rough palms while the other remained on your hip, pulling you against him at an even pace.

You let out soft breathy moans “Ah, ah, ah” each one getting higher and higher in pitch as the coil in your stomach tightened and threatened to break under the pressure that had begun to build until finally it snapped. You arched your back painfully against him, the muscle in your back cramping from the awkward angle. Your walls, pulsating out of him, coaxing Roger to his own release as he chased it, frantically and unevenly thrusting into you before he pulled out and painted the perfect skin of your plump ass white.

Your chest heaved and your arms shook lightly as you came down from your high. After a few moments to regather your brain you let the water wash you clean of the mess.

After your shower you found yourself curled up in your bed. Without bothering to knock, Roger opened the door to your room, his towel still loosely hanging over his shoulders and a pair of boxers hanging comfortably off his hips. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of his light blond hair dripping small water droplets and littering his pale skin with moisture. Fuck, you want to lick them off, what the hell was wrong with you?

“Can I help you?” You croaked out. You voice gave away your current struggle.

Roger cluelessly grinned at you, “I want to see what I filmed!” He said plopping down next to you on your bed.

Your face flushed with heat, “You video taped what happened in the shower?” You gaped at him, shifting the blankets so he could get comfortable.

Roger responded with a nod and flatly held his hand out for you to place the phone in his hand, “Yeah, come on we have to pick the best ones to upload.” He responded. Right this was for professional purposes.

When you grabbed and opened your camera roll you saw sure enough, there were several saved short clips and a few pictures in it. Heat began to build in your belly upon seeing the little thumbnail previews. You had to take a moment to remind yourself that watching the sex tape you and your roommate made was strictly for business purposes and not for personal pleasure.

But when you clicked on the first video and caught a perfectly angled shot of Roger entering you, your back arching, the steam of the shower beginning to fog and cloud the camera your mind went blank. You stared at the image before Roger nudged the volume button, turning it up, “We have to make sure it sounds okay.” You almost missed the deviant glint in his eyes that hid behind Roger’s focused features.

The cheeky bastard knew what he was doing.

Your breathy sighs and moans filled your room, Christ, that was what you sounded like? You blinked at the short clip when it was over, “What do you think?” You didn’t dare look at Roger. You didn’t even want to think of what his stupid smug face looked like right now.

“I think it looks even better the second time around.” He confidently retorted back to you.

“Fuck off,” You couldn’t help but smile and let out a little laugh before swiping to the next little clip.

“Fuck” Roger’s husky voice rang against your ears, giving you flash backs to what happened only moments earlier.

SMACK the crisp sound of Roger slapping your ass echoed through your brain just like it did in the bathroom.

“That feel good baby?” Your walls throbbed, hearing Roger’s commanding tone and watching his hand kneading the meat of your ass as it bounced against him.

The tension in the room was beginning to settle and surround the two of you once more. You swallowed thickly almost positive Roger could hear your audible gulp. “That one looks good too.” Your voice sounded shaky. Your skin felt like it was on fire and Roger simply sat next to you, seemingly unfazed.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy!roger taylor x reader #roger taylor series #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfic #queen fanfic #queen x reader #queen smut #queen series #borhap #borhap series #borhap fanfic #borhap random #FSC fic

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