#entire rest of my life ive at best had the choice between sitting on my bed or sitting on the sofa

[cruelsister-moved2]

this house has so many rooms i genuinely keep forgetting about them all its so fun for my little easily bored brain like oh time to go exist near a different window for a bit^_^

[aliensunflower-fics]

How to Exploit Kindness [A New Kind of Lila Salt Prompt]

[ Ive seen Lila and Class salt that goes a lot of different ways. In some Lilas a sad lonely girl who will do anything for friends and the class fall for her lies through a mixture of manipulation and Lila’s genuine sad lonely but real persona. In others Lila is insane and the class get basically sucked into her cult. And in others still, Lila slowly breaks the class down by preying on there insecurities, hidden jealousies ect. There are the versions where Lila just bribes the class with connections and the versions where Lila frames Marinette until no one believes her. But I wanted to write a new idea for people to use, one that I feel is a bit more realistic. One where Marinette’s classmates are more their more authentic kind selves but still get slowly pulled into Lila’s web and where Lila is just a bit more intelligent. ]

[ As usual with all my prompts feel free to borrow the idea to write for your own thing salt, sugar, cuteness angst ect just be sure to credit me for the idea so I can read it. ]

Lila was furious! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be everyone's friend! She was supposed to finally get a cute perfect boyfriend who would cherish her like she deserved! She was supposed to be HAPPY! But no, the pathetic beetle Ladybug and that goody two shoes Marinette kept ruining everything!

No… No that wasn’t quite true. As much as she wanted to blame her problems on those two it wasn’t entirely their faults. Honestly Lila wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Her lies had been working at first, they had gotten her praise and compliments and adoration and friendship! But now? Now they were all ignoring her, unimpressed by her celeb lies! She could not understand it! At first she’d been sure it was Marinette or Ladybug maybe even Adrien had turned on her! But when she’d probed for information she’d learned that none of them had blown the whistle. So what was it! Tomorrow… Tomorrow she will find out one way or another. She needed to get them back under her thumb somehow.

 It was Chloe who gave Lila her answers. Chloe was the reason none of her classmates cared about her stories! Chloe was the idiot mayor's brat. And what a brat she was constantly wiggling her way into her mothers fashion shoots or had celebrities over at the hotel. Of course Lila’s classmates didn’t care about Lila’s celebrity connections because Chloe was always name dropping just as many people as herself. The only difference was Lila used fake modesty and shyness that made her ‘friends’ view her lies in less of a gloating light than Chloe’s haughty claims of celebrity meetings.

It was a damn shame, celebrity lies were her bread and butter, they were exciting got people to think you were important and they were hard to prove or disprove allowing Lila to easily get around the messy little detail of ‘proof’ if someone asked for pictures all she could say was that her mom didn't let her take any because she didn't want her precious daughter being targeted by crazy fans. And if someone asked her to use her celebrity connections? Well she could just turn on the water works and cry about them just being her friend for her connections. Thus her prey would be forced to be her ‘friend’ , always listening to her and doing things for her, unable to ask for anything in return. Then when her mother announced their next move Lila would tearfully say goodbye and leave all her suckers behind. But without the sway of her celebrity lies her system broke down. That was the problem with picking the school full of rich talented idiots she supposed.

Well with Chloe ruining her system she’d need a new one. Scrolling through her classmates' social media for a clue she sneered at their overly cheerful and cutesy posts. Always encouraging one another and posting encouraging puff pieces about this or that. Always acting like they were so nice. As Lila scrolled over a charity fundraiser event that Alya had retweeted from Milene a sudden thought crossed her mind. Her classmates were very ‘nice’ and annoyingly so. They were always butting into each other's business, always being SO concerned, always organizing events to help each other and appreciate each other and going to charity events.

In fact now that she thought about it the stories that had intrigued her ‘friends’ always had some sort of charity garbage attached. Saving Jagged’s kitten or raising money for some cause or other that always got her heaps of praise. Sure saying Clara whatshername stole her dance moves got attention but not in the same way saying she raised money for some green project. Was it really that simple? Sure her classmates all loved Marinette for her extreme generosity and kindness but was it REALLY that simple? She needed to check.

 It was actually that easy. One simple little lie about how she pulled a blind old man out of danger when he was nearly run over and suddenly the class was bathing her in praise. And the ‘fact’ that the whole very real thing made her miss first period and sprain her ankle? Well that was just the cherry on top. Suddenly Max was offering her a copy of his notes and everyone was back to caring for her like she was a princess. The fact that Marinette looked like she was seething only for sweet naive Adrien to keep her mouth shut was just so perfect. She’d found her golden ticket. Her classmates were truly ‘good kind people’ and nothing could be exploited quite like kindness.

With this knowledge Lila would easily be able to destroy Marinette, sure she wouldn’t be able to do it quickly but slowly she would replace her, with every good deed she made up with every act of false modesty she would build a reputation greater than Marinette’s she would replace her and become there new ‘everyday ladybug’ and the best part was she wouldn’t have to say ANYTHING against Marinette. Not. A. Thing. No sweet righteous Marinette would eventually snap, sadly for her it would probably be too late with how much control Adrien had over her, so when it happened Marinette would look like the jealous crazy girl going after the girl that was kinder, sweeter, and better than herself. As for Adrien… Well she had a hard time believing it at first but he really was an idiot with a pretty face as long as she was careful as she built her new reputation he would genuinely believe that she was changing for the better and then he'd fall for her.

The best part was, her classmates were genuine. As she built her new good girl heart of gold persona they would genuinely come to love her, all the loyalty Marinette got to enjoy all the perks of being friends with such talented, kind, sweet people would become hers. Slowly no matter how Marinette struggled she would lose, eventually she’d have nothing left. Of course she’d need to be careful with her lies but that was easy. Bring the class to a charity here and there and tell them that she was the one who gave the idea for the charity to the actual organizer but didn't want any credit because she was just that kind and humble. If they tried to make her do actual work then she’d have a sudden accident that would require she sit down.

And then once she’d done more photoshoots with Adrien for Gabriel she’d ‘convince’ the man that a charity would make him look good and boost sales. She’d MAKE her lies true all while winning over her future father in law, and heck maybe she’d even pocket a little of the money, she could use a better wardrobe and the extra would be perfect to buy her ‘friends’ the occasional ice cream or presents. In between that she’d just lie about saving people or volunteering on weekends. Maybe even let it ‘slip’ how she was a temp hero for Ladybug . One of the sweetest parts was that between volunteering with Lila, there own activities and hanging out with Lila so she could ‘thank them for their hard work’ no one would be spending a second hanging out with sweet pink little Marinette, they'd abandon her without even realizing it because they’d be SO busy. Sadly this plan of hers would take a little more work then her others, but it would be worth it to become the queen bee of the class- NO the school! And when Marinette eventually slipped up and looked like the biggest jealous bully in the school. Well she’d have no choice but to leave the school with her tail in between her legs.

Victory was looking sweet and satisfying.

 [ And where it goes from here is up to you. Lila can win, she can slowly convince the class and school that she's a model citizen and an everyday hero. She can sneakily maneuver the class to not spend time with Marinette slowly separating the girl from her friends. In this way Alya and the rest of them don't become evil salty versions of themselves who overnight hate Marinette and love Lila, but rather they are good naive people who got slowly separated and tricked by someone who wants to use their genuine talents and skills to make herself look better. Adrien who is already shown to be naive and wants to believe the best in people, can fall into Lila’s trap and become genuinely convinced that his high road method really worked and ‘reformed’ Lila into a better person. OR Lila can fail, she can claim to be the wrong temporary hero for ladybug, or she can pick the wrong charity to lie about, or get exposed any number of ways and the class can realize with horror that because they are kind but flawed people who are perhaps too trusting and gullible that they got pulled away from Marinette through subtle manipulation and so they can be redeemed because instead of turning into outright bullies they stayed the same kind people they always were but just got genuinely tricked which is something that can actually happen in real life. You can go heavy salt where Marinette does eventually leave the school or class heartbroken that her kind friends have fallen prey to a bad person Marinette cant find a way to expose. Or you can go clever salt where Marinette figures out Lila’s plan and fights her from the inside slowly exposing the cracks in her facade. Or you can go sugar and redemption where maybe just maybe Lila actually LIKES being nice to people and having real friends who dont care about her fake celeb connections, maybe she honestly redeems herself and even makes amends with Marinette. You can do genuinely anything with this idea and I hope to see this generate some new less *and suddenly everyone is evil* content for those that like salt and angst. ]

[vrishchikawrites]

Its a prompt! (And dont worry about it, absolutely love reading your writing XD) Okay so dimension travel, so we all agree in a world where WWX was raised in another sect (like Lan/Nie) That he would be absolutely adored by them and everyone, healthy relationships( even Jin Zixuan and Wei Wuxian wouldn't be on a bad term much because no WWX JYL interaction) so! Canon!WWX from post ssc timeline gets transmigrated/summoned to one of these worlds where hes raised by either Lan or Nie so 1/2

They're a bit confused seeing WWX in black clothes, and seeing his gaunt/tired appearance and him being so on guard around them (since he's usually open and loved) that they ask him why is it so? Does he not know Lan Xichen/Nie Mingjue back from whicher place he came from, and Wei Wuxian goes 'Ive met them/we're not close' they ask 'sorry if its a bit personal but who were you raised by?' and WWX replies the Jiangs and cue everyone horrified cuz Jiangs areopen in their heavy dislike of WWX2/2

'It's my fault.' Nie Huaisang thinks as he frantically collects all the materials needed, 'It is my fault, I need to fix this.'

His er-ge was gone. His brother, Da-ge's pride and joy, the shining star of the Nie Clan.

Gone. Just like that.

One minute they're on an easy nighthunt and the next, Wei Wuxian is pushing him away to take an attack straight to his chest.

He knows his brother is gone. His body may be alive, but just barely. He's drowning in his own blood and there's nothing Nie Huaisang can do. There's no cognition in his eyes, that bright silver gaze is dull and blank.

He has to do something.

The ritual may not work. It came with so many warnings that Nie Huaisang lost the patience to read them all the way through. If something goes wrong, it goes wrong.

"Huaisang! What are you doing?!" Da-ge's voice is loud but Nie Huaisang doesn't pay any attention to it. The room is sealed and it would take da-ge some time to break through it.

"Nie Huaisang!"

Good, Lan Xichen is here. He'll take care of da-ge if something goes wrong.

"Huaisang!" There's a loud crash but he doesn't pay any attention to it, "Stop! Don't do something stupid."

"I need to save him. It is my fault, I need to save him!"

"Huaisang!"

There's a bright red flash and it drowns out everything.

---

Miraculously, he survives.

His fledgling Golden Core has shattered and melted into nothing, but he has survived.

And he has done it.

"Does your stupidity known no bounds?" Da-ge demands as Lan Wangji kneels by er-ge's bed and feeds him potent spiritual energy.

Wei Wuxian is alive. His cognition is intact and his Golden Core is stable but he's soaked in Resentful Energy.

"You destroyed your Golden Core, Huaisang! There's no recovering from it!"

"Wouldn't you do the same?" He demands, turning around to look at his oldest brother. He ignores Lan Xichen's alarmed voice and focuses on Nie Mingjue, "Is his life worth less than my Golden Core?"

Da-ge locks his jaw but doesn't reply. Of course, Wei Wuxian's life is worth more than a Golden Core.

"Huaisang," Lan Xichen sighs, "a-Xian wouldn't have wanted this."

"Look at Wangji-xiong and tell me that again." He says bluntly. He is tired and drained but no one can convince him that reviving er-ge wasn't the right choice.

Xichen-ge doesn't reply because no one can look at the devastated expression on Lan Wangji's face and say it wasn't worth it.

Huaisang doesn't feel the absence of the core as keenly as someone else might. He had only developed it during the Sunshot Campaign, after all.

He isn't like er-ge or Wangji-xiong, with their powerful cores and potent spiritual energy. The loss would've been devastating to them but is only an afterthought to him.

---

They realize something is off when Wei Wuxian opens his eyes and looks at them with distant wariness instead of familiar affection. He looks around and is instantly on guard, "Where... Why am I here?"

He looks directly at Wangji-xiong, "Lan Zhan? What are you... Have you brought me here?" He demanded, his expression shifting to something hostile, "Are we in Gusu?"

"Wei-gongzi," Xichen-ge calls for his attention, "I know you're very confused but please don't be alarmed. We're in your home at the Unclean Realm, not in Gusu."

Er-ge narrows his eyes and Huaisang recognizes that expression, even though it has never been directed towards them. A look of cool calculation as er-ge tries to decipher their motives. "My home?" He asks.

Wangji-xiong knows er-ge almost as well as they do. He reaches forward, "Wei Ying, let us explain, please."

It appears that this Wei Wuxian is just as vulnerable to Wangji-xiong as his brother had been because he softens immediately. His body is still tense but he seems to be willing to listen.

"You died in this world, saving Huaisang's life." Da-ge begins gruffly. Huaisang winces at the bluntness but er-ge seems to appreciate it, his sharp gaze focusing on their elder brother, "Yes, this world," Da-ge confirms, "Our didi decided he wouldn't tolerate it and decided to use one of our forbidden rituals to revive you. He didn't read things clearly. The ritual dragged your soul from another world and placed you in his body."

Er-ge's expression is skeptical, "Our didi..."

Wangji-xiong sucks in a sharp breath, "Wei Ying," His brother's gaze moves to his 'best friend', "You are Wei Wuxian, 23 years old, the Head Disciple of QingheNie Sect, the adopted younger brother of Nie Mingjue and older brother to Nie Huaisang. You were adopted by the former Nie-zongzhu when you were six years old."

Er-ge stares at Wangji-xiong in stunned disbelief but there's no denial in his expression.

No wonder, Wangji-xiong never lies. That must be true in his world as well.

"a-Xian," Er-ge winces and looks at Xichen-ge, "You need to rest and recover. Your Golden Core is stab-"

Er-ge gasps and immediately sits up, placing his hand on his chest. He closes his eyes and almost violently summons his spiritual energy.

"Wei Ying!" Wangji-xiong calls out in alarm but his brother doesn't pay any attention, his focus entirely inward.

"I have my Golden Core back..." Er-ge breathes, astonished but his skin goes white and he loses consciousness.

They exchange stunned glances before scrambling forward to check on him.

---

No one can deny Wei Wuxian has changed. It takes a month for his body to recover but his heart is still unsteady. He puts on every appearance of being alright, but Huaisang has grown up with this man. He knows something is off.

It is only when er-ge decides he needs to start training again that things start to become clear. Er-ge has trained all of his life to fight with a Dao. His movements are powerful and aggressive, designed to overwhelm the enemy.

Er-ge's mind, however, is accustomed to the traditional Jian. He seems to expect his movements to be lighter, faster. More agile and less powerful.

The dissonance makes him clumsy and he loses his first fight against Lan Wangji in a long time.

"Wei Ying?" Wangji-xiong frowns, "Your movements."

Da-ge has his concerned scowl on and he grabs Baxia, stepping into the training field, "With me, Wuxian."

This fight is faster and more brutal. Huaisang almost wants to protest but he can see er-ge adjust and adapt quickly.

His eyes gain a razor-sharp focus and his battle instincts come to the fore. "Good," Xichen-ge observes, "He's accepting his body."

Indeed, he is. Against da-ge's overwhelming force, there's nothing er-ge can do but react instinctively. They engage in several bouts and keep at it for over a shichen.

By the end of it, er-ge is exhausted but faintly triumphant.

"Lan Zhan, again!"

"Wei Ying, you need rest." Wangji-xiong says with a shake of his head, "Don't strain yourself."

"Why were you fighting like you wanted to wield a Jian, didi?" Da-ge asks sternly, "You were hesitant and weak in some strikes."

Er-ge grimaces and Xichen-ge steps forward. It has been over a month and though er-ge has seen how much they all care for him, he remains wary.

"a-Xian," Xichen-ge begins gently, "You weren't a part of the Nie Clan in the past, were you?"

Da-ge's scowl deepens at the thought of er-ge belonging to anyone else but them. They had suspected something like this, of course. But they had hoped that er-ge would've still been a part of the Nie Sect if not the Clan.

Er-ge remains wary but sighs, "No."

"Not the Lans," Xichen-ge observes astutely, "Not the Jins either. Were you a rogue cultivator? Or from a smaller sect?"

Er-ge studies him before shaking his head, "I was the Head Disciple of the Jiangs."

"What?" Wangji-xiong asks, his voice uncharacteristically sharp, "Jiangs?"

Da-ge looks furious and Xichen-ge seems pained. No wonder, given how... problematic the Jiang situation is. That family is entirely unsuitable for someone as loving and giving as his er-ge!

Jiang Wanyin is a complex mix of pride and insecurity. He lags behind all sect heirs, though Huaisang is fairly certain their batch of cultivators is particularly skilled. Er-ge and Wangji-xiong are exceptional in every way and Jin Zixuan is barely a few steps behind.

In the face of such competition, skilled but ordinary cultivators can't help but be overshadowed.

Jiang Fengmian, according to da-ge, is a meek little imitation of his former self. The man that pursued er-ge's mother had been strong and wise. He had the skill, political acumen, and grace to be an admirable Sect Leader.

His marriage to Yu Ziyuan ruined him.

And Yu Ziyuan is a nightmare. The one time she met Wei Wuxian, she had left such an impression that da-ge had cut all ties with the Jiang Sect until its Madam apologized to the Nie Sect Head Disciple.

That hadn't gone down well and the relationship between them is still sour.

"Do you want to return to them?" He blurts out, unable to help himself. If Jiangs are this Wei Wuxian's family then maybe-

"No."

They still because that's a very firm no. It is a complete and utter rejection of the very thought of it.

"No."

---

Getting the whole story out of er-ge is like pulling teeth but between Wangji-xiong's pleas, Xichen-ge's gentle questions, da-ge impassioned demands, and his own begging, they manage.

This Wei Wuxian doesn't love them yet but he sees their love for him clearly. That softens his heart and they get to hear every painful, excruciating aspect of his past life.

Wangji-xiong looks furious, da-ge paces, Xichen-ge is pale, but all of that doesn't matter.

He recognizes the look on er-ge's face. He has never seen it on him before, but he recognizes it.

Er-ge expects them to reject him. To abandon him for his 'sins'.

"Well, I don't have a Golden Core. Can you teach me Demonic Cultivation?"

"Huaisang!" Is yelled from almost every direction but he only has eyes for his older brother.

He sees those tired silver eyes study him for a moment before they soften completely, turning into the color of liquid moonlight. "You brat," Er-ge murmurs affectionately, "The thought of you wielding that power is nothing short of terrifying."

"But er-ge! Can you leave me defenseless, just like that? Don't you feel sorry for me-"

"Huaisang!" Da-ge snaps, "Stop trying to manipulate your brother!"

"Really, a-Sang, it isn't right for you to-"

Er-ge laughs. It's familiar, loud, and openly joyous. Silver eyes sparkle as he looks at them, "Don't worry, da-ge, he's a hundred years too early to manipulate me."

Wangji-xiong huffs, "Wei Ying."

"Lan Zhan," Er-ge teases, "How is that you manage to reprimand me by only saying my name? Shall I try it too? Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!"

"And they're flirting again." He murmurs under his breath, drawing an amused look from Xichen-ge.

"Perhaps we really need to start betrothal negotiations," Xichen-ge says and da-ge scoffs.

"Not going to happen unless you're willing to part with your brother. Mine is my heir. He's not marrying into the Lans."

"Da-ge, be reasonable-"

Huaisang tunes them out and waves his fan in front of his face, his mind whirling.

He doesn't care about er-ge's marriage negotiations. He has bigger fish to fry.

Really, those Jins and Jiangs are getting too bold.

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Chapter Three

Previous

AO3

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is tired. She’s tired of emotional terrorists and liars and classes with a teacher who cares more about keeping the peace than teaching. She’s also just plain tired. Taking a long swig of coffee, Marinette jumps slightly as someone flounces down next to her. Wearily glancing over, she frowns at the look on her best friend’s face. Her mind runs a million miles a minute as she searches for the reason for the look on his face. The conversation on the roof with Jason flashes in her mind and she frowns, realizing why he looks so sad.

“Adrien-” She starts, but he shakes his head.

“I know, Mari. I know he’s our best suspect but...it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He says, slouching so that he can lay his head on her shoulder. Marinette sighs in response

“You’re gonna get in trouble sitting back here, kitty.” She mumbles, trying not to laugh at the absolutely adorable pout on his face that forms once she’s done talking.

“It’s worth it. I hate sitting by Lila.” He grumbles, the sad look on his face breaking Marinette’s heart.

“I-Well, maybe Mme. Bustier won’t notice.” She offers with a small smile. The smile falls almost immediately as a loud gasp rings throughout the room.

“Mme. Bustier, isn’t Adrien’s seat in the front row? Has the seating chart changed again?” Lila asks, her voice wobbly with tears. “Do I- do I have to sit by myself?” She adds. Marinette groans and drops her head onto the desk.

“Adrien? Why don’t you come back to your seat. We’re going to start class soon.” Mme. Bustier calls out.

“Sorry, guess I spoke too soon.” Marinette mumbles from her spot against the table. Adrien groans, but drags his bag down to the front row, furrowing his eyebrows as Lila immediately attaches herself to his arm. Marinette rolls her eyes, trying her hardest to pay attention to the lecture when all she wants to do is sleep. Between Ladybug duties, commissions, and homework, Marinette was lucky to get more than a couple hours of sleep each night. Add in the fact that once she could go to sleep her brain wouldn’t shut off, and Marinette was ready to petition her parents for an IV drip for her coffee. Having been completely zoned out for the entire class, Marinette jumps when the telltale sound of an akuma alarm suddenly blares throughout the room. Pulling out her phone, Marinette curses under her breath. Another element based akuma. Quickly grabbing her bag, Marinette follows the rest of the class towards the akuma shelter, silently slipping away and into the bathroom. She wastes no time in transforming, instead swinging herself out the window and to the fight.

----

Glancing down at his computer, Jason frowns. Gabriel Agreste has a kid. A kid Damian’s age, who lives in Paris. If Gabriel Agreste really was Hawkmoth, he was doing it knowing that his kid could get caught in the crossfire. Damn shitty parents. Letting out a shaky breath, Jason tries to think about things that calm him. Breathe. Can’t get pissed off here. Can’t make it harder on those kids than it already is. Deciding enough is enough when it comes to research (especially since he didn’t give Replacement specifics, just told him to look into anything sketchy with Agreste), Jason walks over and glances out the hotel window. A sudden alarm blaring through the hotel makes him sigh in frustration. It was the same alarm from last time, when he watched Paris flood and hundreds of bodies float in the streets. Climbing out onto the fire escape, Jason hurries up to the roof, scanning the horizon in hopes of seeing the akuma.

“Shit.” He says, eyes widening at the sight of flames twenty feet high. Regretting letting Bruce convince him to leave the helmet in Gotham, Jason has no choice but to watch the akuma fight from afar. Even if the two heroes hadn’t recognized him, Jason was in Paris on “official” W.E. business. Being recognized as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son while fighting a supervillain? Probably not the best idea. He’d do more damage than help, and at least by staying away from the fight, he could help the kids later. And maybe track down the son of a bitch who decided focusing the majority of his attacks on a school was a good idea.

----

Jason grit his teeth as the lights flashed and ladybugs flew around, fixing up the city. This battle took almost three hours, and the smell of burning flesh was lingering, despite all of the corpses being reanimated. Huffing, Jason climbs back off the roof, only thinking one thing. There was no way in hell he was leaving Paris until Hawkmoth was out of commission.

----

Landing softly on the rooftop, Marinette glances over at the strange man. Jason. The man who, for some reason, was willing to train them late at night on top of a roof, just so they could fight out of the suits. Not that he understood everything that the suits could do, but that was for the best. Even though his intentions seemed genuine, Marinette had learned not to trust easily anymore. Ever since Lila came, Marinette was wearier, and more likely to ask questions before accepting someone.

“Here’s your mask, if you wanna go ahead and change and start doing some basic stretches.” Jason instructs, getting right down to business as he passes the black domino mask to her. Marinette nods and flits behind the chimney.

“Spots off.” She says quietly, grinning at Tikki.

“Is this really a good idea?” Tikki asks, her face scrunched up with worry. Marinette sighs at her friend.

“He’s gonna help us find Hawkmoth. And he has a point. What happens if I can’t transform but someone still needs my help? I don’t want to be helpless, Tikki.” Marinette says.

“Just be careful, you don’t have the suit to stop you from being too injured.” Tikki warns before flying to the top of the chimney. Marinette hesitates a second before sliding the domino mask on, blinking to get used to the eye cover. It was...weird, having a mask on that wasn’t magic. With the mask that came with her suit, Marinette couldn’t feel it. It was just there, part of her. The domino mask, though, was solid. She could feel it resting on her face. Taking a breath to steady herself, Marinette walked out from behind the chimney.

“Chat Noir’s changing over there.” Jason says when he notices her, nodding towards an air duct on the opposite side of the roof.

“Thank you, for offering to help us.” Marinette says, Jason nods, a tense smile on his face.

“No problem.” He says.

“Did you happen to look into Gabriel Agreste today?” She asks.

“Yeah, what kind of asshole decides to be an emotional terrorist in a city where his kid lives?” Jason asks, a dark look crossing his face. Marinette flinches, looking at Jason nervously. If he had the means to train them, she really didn’t want to deal with him as an akuma.

“Gabriel Agreste, apparently.” Adrien says, finally joining the two, his arms crossed. Marinette frowns at him. It was much harder to read his face with his eyes hidden.

“So did you guys want me to look more into Agreste?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks between the two. Marinette glances at Adrien, letting out a small breath when she sees his small nod.

“Yeah. Even if it’s not Gabriel, we need to know for sure.” She says. Jason nods.

“Alright. That gives me something to do tomorrow. Now, stretch and warm up. I don’t wanna have to drag your asses off this roof ‘cause you pulled something trying to jump right into things.” Jason says, a teasing grin on his face. Marinette grins back, finally feeling lighter. Maybe training would be a good thing.

----

Training was hell. Okay, maybe not hell, but it was not easy. Gasping for air, Marinette dramatically collapses on the roof.

“Aw come on Pixie, you can do better than that.” Jason teases, still standing in a sparring stance.

“Jay, I swear. We’ve been training for over a week. I’m exhausted. And you’ve already kicked my ass twice. I’m giving up.” She says, throwing her arm over her face to block out the lights from the surrounding street lamps.

“Come on Bug, don’t give up!” Adrien cheers from the side, a smirk on his face. Marinette sits up and narrows her eyes at him, despite knowing the mask wouldn’t let him see her eyes. And the level of done that was visible there.

“Why don’t you try again?” She asks in a taunting tone. Adrien snorts.

“You and I both know that I can’t beat Jason.” He says, shaking his head in amusement.

“Not with that attitude. Come on kid, let’s go.” Jason says, turning to face Adrien instead of Marinette. An idea flashes into Marinette’s head and she smirks, lunging forward and yanking Jason down as his attention is completely on Adrien. Grabbing his wrists as he falls, Marinette manages to twist him around so that his face is against the rooftop and his arms are bent behind him.

“Okay, okay, I tap out.” Jason chuckles, accepting Marinette’s hand when she jumps up and reaches out to help him up.

“I won.” She says with a wide grin.

“You totally cheated.” Jason replies with a snort.

“Nah, Kitty and I just worked together to outsmart you.” Mari says.

“Don’t drag me into this, I had no idea what was happening ‘til Jay was on the ground.” Adrien says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Traitor.” Marinette huffs, sticking her tongue out at her best friend.

“Hey, you guys are gonna have to go home soon.” Jason says, glancing down at his watch. Marinette frowns.

“What about the Plan?” She asks. “I thought we were gonna work on that tonight so that we have an actual plan to stop Hawkmoth instead of just letting him run around and terrorize people nonstop.”

“Pixie, it’s late. I promise we’ll start with planning tomorrow. But you guys need to go get some sleep. Chat told me you’re already living off of coffee alone. That’s not healthy.” Jason says. Marinette rolls her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Coffee is my life fuel and I will not apologize.” She says, making both Chat and Jason groan.

“You’re worse than my brother.” Jason says and Mari grins.

“I’m sure we’d get along swimmingly.” She says, and Chat shakes his head.

“Nope. I draw the line at your coffee addicted butt meeting another coffee addict. I’m not about to watch that train wreck.” He says, grabbing Mari’s hand and tugging her behind the chimney so they can transform. Saying their phrases quickly, the two dart back over to Jason.

“Same time?” Marinette asks with a bright smile. Jason nods. Marinette waves, running over to the edge of the building and swinging away, waving at Adrien as he vaults towards his house. As she lands on her balcony, Marinette can't help the wide smile that stretches across her face. Maybe they could finally end this.

Next

[watchmegetobsessed]

Serendipity - Part IV. (Harry Styles)

a/n: can’t believe only one part left of this story! i personally love their journey and a lot more is to come, we have an emotional last part ahead of us, so brace yourself! as always, feedback is very much appreciated!!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 9.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST  ⚫️ my masterlist  ⚫️  come and talk to me about Serendipity!  

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

Sometimes Harry finds himself way too caught up with everything around him. Work tends to pile up, meetings after meetings, urging deadlines and the demand to stay relevant in the industry. These past weeks he has tried his best to make London the epitome of his life and so far he has been successful in his attempt, dodging two trips away from his home, though he had to make a short visit to New York still.

Now, even though he is in London, he feels like he is far from home. He hasn’t been able to see Lis in three days, their schedules just didn’t line up well and he would never ask her to mess up her usual routine with Benji, but he has been missing her dearly. He has been missing them both. Harry found himself growing a liking to being around not just Lis, but her little boy as well. He loves playing around with him, joining the mother-son duo on their little outings on Sundays, or just simply stay in with them, watching whatever movie has caught Benji’s eyes recently. He has been spending all his free time with them, but this week has been too hectic and now Harry feels like it’s coming down crashing on him at once.

It’s past eight pm now and he just finished with a tiring meeting. He has had many creative differences with the team he is supposed to work together with for a photoshoot and it took all his energy and patience out of him to stay calm and respectful when they just wouldn’t let go of the things he clearly didn’t want to include. It didn’t matter what he or his manager was saying, the team seemed to be keen on putting their ideas through no matter what.

“We’ll come to terms, alright?” Jeff pats his shoulder as they walk out of the building. Harry nods, though he doesn’t feel comfortable in the project like he is supposed to.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Rest some. I pushed a little further your interview tomorrow. You have to be there at eleven.”

“Thanks,” he nods at the man and they say their goodbyes before parting ways and heading to their own cars.

Once he is seated behind the wheel, he takes a moment to himself, breathing deep to get his head sorted out, but he just knows this ache in his chest will grow if he doesn’t do something to ease it. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he closes his eyes as he starts a call to Lis.

“Hey! I was just thinking about you.” Her sweet voice immediately eases the tension in his muscles and he feels himself deflate at her words.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Benji showed me his painting he made today and it has this nice guitar on it, I’m sure you’d like it,” she chuckles softly and he hears her shuffling around, she must be cleaning up the kitchen, at least that’s what she usually does around this time once they are finished with dinner.

“I bet it looks awesome,” he mumbles.

“Everything alright? You sound a little… distant,” she says, worry lacing through her words.

“I’m just… tired. Very tired. Just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she coos. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“It’s just work stuff. It’s been a hard week,” he admits, but doesn’t go into detail, not wanting to load out on her. She has enough on her plate without having to listen to his ranting.

“Are you at home?”

“No, I just got done at a meeting. It was shitty, some people just suck,” he sighs in frustration.

“Want to come over?” she asks softly, the question surprises him. It’s a weekday and they didn’t agree on meeting beforehand. “Go home, get the stuff you need and spend the night here, if you want.”

“You sure about it? I don’t want to bother and what about Benji?” Lis chuckles on the other end of the call.

“Benji would jump up the wall if he hears you are coming over. He has been missing you too, Harry. In fact, I think if you come over you won’t be able to get rid of him for a while.”

Harry chuckles lowly, the thought of having to play with Benji whatever imaginary game he just made up warms his chest. He doesn’t mind it, not even a bit.

“I can be there in like forty.”

“That’s perfect. We are starting Finding Nemo just now. Hurry so you can see the end. Spoiler, they find Nemo,” she laughs making him smile as well.

“Alright, see you in a bit.”

 Annalise ends the call, smiling to herself. She still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling Harry brings to her. All the affection and appreciation he has been showing made her swoon and she has no doubt now that she made the right choice when she let him enter her life. She could tell he wasn’t in the best of moods and though he didn’t admit it, he couldn’t fool her entirely. She wanted to be there for him, comfort him just like he does every time she is feeling overwhelmed with life. Harry hasn’t failed to brighten her days whenever it was starting to feel a little too much all together and now she has the chance to do the same for him.

“Popcorn! Popcorn!” Benji chants as he runs into the kitchen, already in his pajamas, holding one of his dinosaurs in his hand.

“Alright, I’m making it now,” she chuckles grabbing a pack and tossing it into the microwave. “Harry will come over in a bit, is that alright?” she asks him and watches his eyes brighten up immediately.

“When is he arriving? Can I show him my painting?” he enthuses right away, making Lis chuckle.

“Of course, already told him about it. He’ll be over soon. Let’s start the movie, he’ll join when he arrives.”

The two of them settle on the couch once the popcorn is ready, she puts on the movie and tries her best to focus on the screen, but she keeps glancing out the window, checking if he has arrived. When she sees his headlights pull up in front of her house, she leaves the comfort of the couch and goes to meet him outside. Luckily, Benji is too invested in the movie to care about the absence of his mother just yet.

When she sees him emerge from the car, she can tell he isn’t his usual joyful self. His shoulders are hunched forward and she can tell he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a while from the circles under his eyes. Looking up his gaze meets hers and he breaks a soft smile at the sight of her in her comfy home clothes.

“Hey,” she greets him warmly and walking up she kisses him sweetly, running her fingers through his hair. He hums against her lips, hands finding her waist lazily.

“Hi. You sure I’m not bothering?” he asks as he grabs his bag for the night from the back of the car.

“Absolutely,” she smiles and taking his hand she pulls him inside from the crispy evening air.

Benji’s head snaps up hearing the front door shut and he immediately leaps out of his seat, launching at the man that just arrived.

“Harry! Come see my painting!” he begs immediately, smacking against him, wrapping his short arms around his waist. Harry chuckles lightly, rubbing his back gently.

“Alright, bud. Show me!”

The three of them move over to the kitchen so Harry can check out the painting on the fridge. Harry listens to everything he has to say, giving him his full attention and Annalise can’t ignore how her heart flutters in her chest at the sight of them. Harry squats down so he is on the level of the little boy who is standing between his legs, talking enthusiastically about the kind of paint his teacher let him use at school. He doesn’t seem to be just acting to be interested, it’s all genuine and that alone almost makes her cry.

Once the show and tell is done, Benji drags him into the living room so they can continue the movie.

“Slow down, Benji. Let me bring my stuff up to the bedroom,” Harry chuckles, but the boy has a strong grip on his hand.

“I’ll do it, just go watch the movie,” Lis offers smiling. Harry presses a kiss to her temple, mumbling a thank you as she takes the bag from him before he is taken by her son.

Bringing it into her bedroom she sets it beside the bed and gets him a clean towel, placing it to the edge of the bed in case he needs it. Once the lights are all turned off she heads back down to the living room, only to find a scene that immediately makes her swoon.

The movie is playing again and has both guys’ eyes fixed on the screen. Harry is sitting comfortable on the couch, slid down a little, Benji cuddled to his side, his little fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt. His head is laid on Harry’s chest while his long, tattooed arm is wrapped around the little boy’s frame. Just as she walked down the stairs Benji mumbled a question about sharks and Harry softly answered, earning a nod from the boy in his arm.

Lis finds herself grabbing her phone from the kitchen island, quietly sneaking up on them, taking a picture of the two from the side. She is more than sure it’s going to end up as her lockscreen sooner or later.

Harry lifts his head and turns towards her when she walks in, making her presence known this time. A soft smile tugs on his pink lips and Annalise can’t push down her wide smile even if she tried. Sitting beside the boys, she leans closer and presses a kiss to Harry’s lips before placing one on top of Benji’s head. This is her silent thank you to Harry for being such an amazing man and he can feel the seriousness behind this small gesture as well.

When Lis is all settled, Benji moves around until his head is still on Harry’s chest but his legs are across his mother’s lap. Harry and Lis exchange one last loving look over the head of the little boy before they both turn their attention back at the movie playing on the screen.

Benji is half asleep by the end of the movie. Harry offers to carry him up to bed, which Lis appreciates a lot. She hasn’t been able to carry him around that much since he has been growing like crazy. Once the boy is all settled in his bed the two of them head into her bedroom. First he takes a quick shower and then it’s her turn. When she returns to the room Harry is lying in bed already, reading something on his phone but he quickly puts it aside when she appears. She quickly gets under the covers and moves close to Harry, resting her head on his shoulder as he circles his arm around her frame.

“I’m sorry you had a shitty day,” she mumbles after a while, his fingers gently caressing her upper arm.

“It definitely got better at the end.” After a short silence, she is the one to speak up again.

“I like having you around like this.”

“Like what?”

Lifting her head she rests her chin on his chest so she can look him in the eyes.

“Domestically,” she answers and his heart starts thudding against his chest so wildly even she notices it.

“I love it too,” he tells her truthfully.

As he stares down at her in the dim lighting of the bedside lamp on her nightstand, he can feel three short words weighing down on him, burning to be said out loud, but he is not sure if it’s the right moment to let them slip. However, as the moments pass by and she is still looking up at him, he simply can’t make himself remain silent.

“And… I love you.”

She seems stunned upon hearing his words, lips parted as her eyes keep fixated on his green ones. Pushing herself up into a sitting position she lets the faintest smile tug on her lips, tasting the words that just rolled down his tongue. Cupping his face she leans down and kisses him blissfully, her cheeks blushing from the joy that spread in her body at his confession.

“I love you too,” she whispers against his lips and he breathes out shakily, a hand flying to the back of her head to pull her into another kiss.

“See? It wasn’t tha’ hard, right?” Harry smiles down at Benji who nods his head, admiring his math homework Harry just helped him finish.

“Thanks. I think I like math now,” the boy nods to himself, making both Harry and Lis chuckle.

“Your opinion about math seems to be changing quite often, Benji,” Lis teases him, but he just shrugs his shoulders. “Go pack your bag for tomorrow.”

Benji climbs off the stool, grabs his notebook and pencils before jolting upstairs. Annalise walks around the kitchen island until Harry can reach out and pull her closer to him, placing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“I wanted to ask you something,” she shyly blinks up at him.

“Go ahead,” he nods. Her hands wander to his stomach, curling the fabric of his shirt around her fingers before letting it go. Harry has been spending at least two nights at Annalise’s, he has his own drawer in her dresser, a toothbrush in the bathroom and even a mug only he uses when he drinks his morning coffee. Following the night he spent here after his shitty day, it slowly became a usual, they both found themselves craving to be with each other and Benji didn’t seem to mind having him over either. Now it’s stretching towards the end of May and they have fallen into a routine of some sort, that seems to be working well for all three of them.

“When school is going to be over I’ll be taking Benji to my parents’ and he’ll stay there for the first two weeks of summer vacation. I’m staying for a weekend as well before I leave him there and I was wondering if… you’d like to come, maybe.”

“You want me to meet your parents?” Harry asks, stunned at the sudden invitation, but it surely warms his heart, knowing that she is ready to take this next step.

“I mean, if you don’t think it’s too soon or something. We’ve been dating for only what, like two months?”

“Something like that,” he nods licking his lips.

“Don’t feel pressured, it’s just that I told my mum about you and she really wants to meet you. But I understand if you want to push it back a little.”

“You told your mum about me?”

“Of course,” she smiles shyly. “She is dying to meet this new, charming boyfriend of mine.” Her smile turns into a smirk that’s surely contagious. Harry mirrors her expression before pecking her lips softly.

“I would love to meet your parents, Lis.”

Her eyes light up and he knows he would do anything to see her happy. Meeting her parents feels a tad bit scary but he is also excited, knowing that she trusts him and counts on him on such level is comforting.

“Great. Then get ready to be questioned by my mum, she can be a pester sometimes, but I have no doubt you’ll pass,” she chuckles before kissing him fully.

“So Benji will be away for two weeks?” he asks, seemingly deep in his thoughts.

“Yeah.” Harry licks his lips, eyebrows furrowed and Lis can tell the gears are turning wildly in his head. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just an idea. You can say no if you don’t feel like you’re comfortable with it, but… I was thinking that you could stay at mine for those two weeks. Would be nice to come home to each other, start our days together and all. But it’s just an idea, you can absolutely tell me if yo—“

“I would love that,” she cuts him off smiling, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. “I think it would be great.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she nods smirking, her thoughts already wandering off to how convenient it’s going to be to be around each other all the time when they are not working. No interruptions, no third parties, just the two of them in the comfort of Harry’s home. She would be crazy to say no to that.

“Great,” he smiles, eyes shining bright. “I’ll make you a copy of my keys then.”

Suzan and George Lloyd live in the outer skirt of Manchester, a place that almost feels like home for Harry as well. The cozy looking town house appears to be old, but it’s clear that it is well kept, thanks to all the hours the couple puts into it.

“Grams! Gramps!” Benji cheers in excitement once Harry parks down on the driveway. The red front door opens and a short, curvy woman appears, her chestnut hair in a short ponytail, a green apron covering her front.

“She is big on kisses,” Lis warns Harry before they all get out of the car.

Benji runs up to his grandmother happily, giving her a tight hug as the woman coos at him lovingly. Lis grabs Benji’s bag while Harry carries hers and his, walking up to the front door where Suzan is already waiting for them with open arms.

“Lisie! Come here!” she cheers, her laugh chiming sweetly as she wraps her arms around her daughter, kissing her cheek several times.

“Hi mum. How are you?”

“Fantastic now that I have my favorite grandson with me!” she cheekily answers winking at Benji, though they all know he is the only grandson she has.

“Mum, this is Harry, my boyfriend. Harry, this is my mother,” Lis introduces them to each other. Harry drops the bags to the ground with a wide grin on his face that brings out his dimples well. Suzan immediately falls in love with them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lloyd,” he politely greets her, though she waves in dismissal.

“Oh, call me Suzan. Come here, Dear!”

They share a warm hug and just as Lis warned him, he feels Suzan kissing both his cheeks welcomingly.

“You surely are more handsome than in the photos!” she exclaims, making Harry chuckle.

“Apologies, she is a big Google user,” Lis huffs, but Suzan ignores the comment, tugging her family inside.

George appears from the kitchen, chewing on something as Benji jumps into his arms.

“Gramps, we will go fishing, right?” he asks in excitement.

“Of course, Benji. Next weekend?”

“Yay!”

“Lisie!” George cheers and envelopes his daughter in a hug after he has put Benji down. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you, Dad,” she smiled. “This is Harry. Harry, this is my dad.”

“Nice to meet your, Sir,” Harry smiles at him as they shake hands and luckily, George returns his smile with a gentle pat on his shoulder.

“Call me George. Nice to meet you too.”

Soon enough Lis goes upstairs to help Benji get settled in the room that used to be hers but now mostly used by the boy when he is staying over, leaving Harry alone with Suzan and George. Suzan has brought some tea and biscuits into the living room and she joins the two men as George is already asking him about what he really does for a living.

“Lisie said you are some kind of celebrity?” George explains, looking a little puzzled at the information though.

“Kind of,” Harry nods. “I’m a singer and song writer.”

“George, I showed you his song the other day!” Suzan chimes in, sitting in the armchair.

“Which one? You show me so many things a day, I can’t remember all of them!”

“The one with the video about the fish!”

“Fish?” George grimaces, trying to find his memory of what his wife showed him, but then it pops in and his expression smoothes out. “Oh! That one! That’s a nice song!”

“Of course it is!” Suzan exclaims. Harry finds the conversation rather endearing. It’s always so relieving to meet people who are not so caught up in the world of fame, having trouble to even remember his full name. Though Suzan has done her homework digging online, it’s still clear that she hasn’t heard much about him beforehand and Harry prefers it this way, not having to worry about and secondhand judgment from the media.

Suzan turns to Harry and her eyes give it away that she is about to have a few serious words with him.

“Harry, I’m so glad you could make it this weekend. Lis talked so fondly about you on the phone.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

“It seems like Benji likes you a lot too.”

“He is an amazing little boy.” Suzan lets out a long breath and he knows this is where the real talk begins.

“I can tell your intentions are the best with her, but please be extra careful with them. She has had enough trouble with Austin, she doesn’t need another heartbreak, yeah?”

“I completely understand your concerns and I can assure you, I’m always doing everything in their favor.”

“That I know, Harry,” she smiles. “But sometimes things just get harder and people tend to forget you have to fight for what you thought was already fully yours.”

Harry holds his gaze on hers as he savors the meaning behind her rather wise words. He knows it was no thread, but a reminder that they won’t be always this happy.

“Will try my best,” he nods, meaning every single word.

It’s a silent agreement between the two of them that Harry will hope to keep forever. Benji comes running down the stairs, Lis following behind him as they join the three of them in the living room. Benji sits on Suzan’s lap, rambling about his last fieldtrip he had with his class as Lis sits beside Harry on the sofa. She places a hand to his knee, squeezing it softly and his palm covers her hand instantly.

“You alright?” she quietly asks him.

“Yeah,” he smiles and leaning closer he pecks her lips shortly before they both turn towards Benji and Suzan.

Monday morning, when Annalise’s alarm goes off on her phone, she can’t tell where she really is for a moment, it is until she hears Harry groan behind her, an arm lazily thrown over her stomach. They arrived back from Manchester the previous night and after a quick trip to Annalise’s house, they both moved over to Harry’s place where they are set to spend the next two weeks, something they both have been looking forward to.

Harry places a soft kiss to her shoulder before rolling to his back, blinking the sleep away from his tired eyes. Though they both knew they would have to wake up early in the morning, it didn’t keep them away from using their alone time for their satisfaction.

“Mm, I know you love your job, but right now I wish you would just quit it,” Harry mumbles, eyes still closed as he is trying to gain strength to get up. Lis chuckles softly, cuddling to his side.

“You know… I forgot I don’t need to get Benji ready now so we are about half an hour early,” she inquires, hoping Harry would get the real meaning behind her words, however he is too tired to do much thinking about what she truly meant.

“Great, 30 more minutes of sleep,” he exhales.

“Or…” Lis pushes herself up and swings a leg over Harry, getting on top of him and the position surely makes his eyes pop open. “We could use our time wisely,” she suggests with a coy smile.

“Rise and shine, baby,” he sings, his hands grabbing onto her hips as he turns them over, getting on top of her while she laughs at how quickly she could get the sleep out of his eyes.

After they have successfully used their extra time wisely, Harry convinces her to let him drive her to work.

“Then you’ll have to pick me up too.”

“Well of course. We could go grocery shopping together on our way home. Want to cook you something nice,” he smirks at her, finishing up his morning coffee.

“Sounds good,” she nods, accepting his offer at last.

The two of them get ready to leave and though it’s still a bit strange to spend their morning together at such a peaceful and private manner, they can’t deny how much they love being alone. Harry loved having her around, see her brushing her hair while he was getting dressed, move around each other in the kitchen while making breakfast. His home has never felt better than at that very morning with Annalise there with him.

“I’ll be here at four,” he smiles at her once they arrive to Golden Sunshine. Leaning over the shifting gear she pulls him in for a quick goodbye kiss.

“Don’t be late,” she smirks playfully before getting out of the car and heading inside. She turns back before entering the building, seeing that Harry is still watching her. She smiles and waves at him before walking inside.

Eloise and Bart are right there as always, the old lady’s eyes immediately lighting up when she sees Lis arrive.

“Darling! You look stunning!” she gasps looking at her.

“Thank you. You look nice as well. Is that a new cardigan?”

“Well, yes! My granddaughter bought it for me!”

“Looks amazing.”

“Thank you. Now tell me, what is it that got you all bright this morning? I don’t tend to see people this happy on Monday mornings.”

Lis stops in her way, her eyes wandering over to the front door. Harry is gone, but the thought of him still lingers in her mind, making her smile with every bit of it.

“It’s love, Eloise,” she answers shortly before making her way into the changing room.

Before starting her shift she drops by her boss’ office to sign her attendance sheet for last month. As she puts her hair in a low ponytail she walks into the room that’s used as a waiting area in front of Mark, her boss’ office. Immediately, she is greeted by Grace, the assistant there.

“Good morning, Annalise!” she nods in her way smiling. “Good thing you dropped by, Mark wants to talk to you.”

“Am I in trouble?” she asks right away, but Grace shakes her head.

“Don’t think so.”

Just as it’s said, Mark rushes through the door with a pile of papers in his hands, his colorful tie a little crooked, but he looks just as nice as every day.

“Oh! Lis, so happy you are here so I don’t have to hunt you down,” he jokes. “Come into my office, will you?”

Lis follows the man inside and sits in one of the plush armchairs in front of his desk. He stacks the papers on the side of the desk before taking his seat behind it.

“Benji gone already?” he asks nicely. Mark knows Benji very well, the boy loves him and Lis is thankful Mark is so understanding about her role as a mother first and foremost.

“Yes, dropped him off this weekend.”

“Great,” he nods, a hint of worry in his eyes.

“Mark, what is it you wanted to talk about? You are starting to worry me.”

“I wouldn’t want that, but I need to tell you about something. You know the new assistant I hired for the weekends, right?”

“Yes, I met Violet the other week,” she nods, cautiously waiting for him to finally make sense.

“She is still learning her ways around and I swear she didn’t mean to bring trouble upon you,” he explains, clearly worried about the situation on hand that Lis is dying to finally unfold.

“Mark, just tell me what it is about!” she begs.

“We got a call this weekend from a man. He was asking around about you. Wanted to know if you are working here. Violet didn’t think anything of it and told him that you in fact work here. She said he started asking when your shifts are and how often you are in, that’s when she found it suspicious and told him she can’t provide any more information. She didn’t find out his intentions, but she indeed got his name.”

Though it hasn’t been said out, Lis has a strong guess who it must have been and the eerie gut feeling inside her stomach is more painful than ever.

“Who was it?” she asks, voice barely more than just a whisper.

“He said his name was Austin.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Styles,” the woman behind the cash register smiles as she hands Harry his receipt along with the two hard paper bags, the well-known name GUCCI printed over them neatly.

“Thank you,” he smiles in his way, sliding his wallet into his back pocket before grabbing the bags and heading out of the store he just spent an hour trying on outfits. He is always highly welcomed in any of their stores and judging from the amount of money he usually leaves after a spree, it won’t be any different anytime soon.

“Gucci should change its name to Styles, man,” Mitch jokes as the two men approach the exit.

“That would be cool, right?” Harry smirks.

There are three photographers already waiting for them near his car and the moment they set their feet outside the questions start, flashes are ticking every second, all of them trying to get a good shot of him. He doesn’t blame them, he hasn’t served anything mentionable lately, he was barely even seen out in public since he has started going out with Lis and he was kind of getting used to the quiet and peace, however he hasn’t forgotten what his life is really like.

Ignoring all questions thrown in his way, the two men simply get into the car and drive away, luckily, they don’t get followed. It only happened a handful of times to Harry, but he definitely didn’t like it.

“Can you drop me off at Sarah’s?” Mitch asks after checking his phone.

“Sure. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, she just asked if I could help her put together her new coffee table.”

“Didn’t she buy one just last month?”

“She did, but… it wasn’t too durable,” Mitch mumbles under his breath, making Harry gasp at his comment.

“Oh shit!” he laughs. “I’m not sure if I wanted to know this detail, but anyway, congrats man,” he teases him, Mitch only smirking shyly.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t ruined anything ever while having sex.”

“Never said that,” he smirks smugly.

“I’m not gonna ask what you and Lis broke, I have too much respect for her,” Mitch laughs and Harry pays him a playful smirk. To be honest, they haven’t broken anything, but his headboard was creaking quite vigorously this morning for sure. He knows it’s just a matter of time and chances that they destroy something at either his or her place.

“How is living together working out so far?” Mitch asks, changing the topic.

“It’s been not even a whole day,” Harry chuckles. “But I love it so far. For the first time in so long, I finally feel like everything is just heading right.”

“That’s amazing. I’m happy for you,” Mitch smiles genuinely at him. “You really should bring her around sometime, we are all dying to meet her. Sarah wouldn’t shut up about it,” he adds chuckling.

“I know, she’s been hinting it to me as well,” Harry smirks. “Will try to make it happen. Maybe this weekend? It’s a little easier without having to worry about Benji. Not that he is a burden, of course.”

After dropping Mitch off Harry heads to Golden Sunshine, since it’s nearing five. This week, Lis agreed to work a usual shift so she’ll have the whole weekend off. He arrives a little earlier so he starts to write a quick list what they would need to pick up at Tesco on their way home. Just a few minutes after five, the door opens and Lis walks out, a wary look on her beautiful face as she roams around stepping outside, her eyes landing on the car and the man inside waiting for her.

“Hey,” Harry beams, kissing her quickly when she gets in the car.

“Hi,” she greets him, a little out of breath, looking a tad bit on the edge.

“Everything alright?” he asks, starting the car and leaving.

“Yeah, I just… had a tiring day,” she breathes out, flashing a weak smile at him.

Walking around Tesco they quite forget about themselves, holding hands and simply acting like any other couples as they fill up the cart with everything they need at home. They both notice that people recognize him and she can’t ignore the stares they are getting, but it’s not like they can do anything about it. Earlier, they’ve had a talk about this side of Harry’s career, if they would want to keep out of public or simply not care about it at all. They uniformly agreed to choose the latter. Harry wouldn’t talk about her and they would just simply pretend not to care about the curious eyes and talks. Sooner or later, it will all die down and it’s not like they could hide forever.

But after all, this is the first time they are caught, undeniably together with their hands intertwined and though they try to stay low, people notice them. Pictures of the two of them slowly but surely make their way around the internet and the first headlines appear about Harry’s new romance.

Saturday has finally brought the first time Lis is meeting Harry’s band. The lot is heading out for a simple dinner, but his friends can’t wait to finally meet the woman who has Harry on his knees since day one.

It’s been a tiring, but wholesome week for the pair, spending so much time together, they’ve been quite enjoying the comfort of being alone.

However, the wariness Harry has noticed on Lis earlier the week didn’t seem to fade. He asked her several times if everything was fine, but she assured it was all good and he told himself she must just be feeling a little lost without Benji around. He knows, because he has found himself feeling the same. He has gotten so used to him being around it was starting to feel weird not hearing his curious questions every time they were watching a movie.

Following a lazy day at home they get ready for dinner and head out to meet the band. Lis has been paying extra attention to her looks since their pictures got out from their grocery shopping trip. When Harry told her she didn’t have to worry about looking so spotless all the time she simply answered: “Can’t have them talk about you dating an uggo, right?”

To which Harry replied: “That can never be the case when it comes to you.”

It surely warmed her heart to know he finds her pretty regardless of what she is wearing, but she still feels the need to look presentable, especially when Harry is always dressed so nicely.

Tonight, she is wearing wide-legged checkered pants and a sleeveless turtleneck tucked in it, paired with silver hoop earrings. Emerging from the bedroom Harry takes her in smiling.

“You look so serious yet fun at the same time,” he hums, eyes still roaming her body.

“Is that good?” she chuckles lightly.

“Definitely,” he nods. “Ready to leave?”

“Yeah.”

On the way to the restaurant, Harry notices how she’s been checking her phone more frequently than usually and it’s been like this for a few days now. When he asked she said she was just texting with her mum, getting updates about Benji and he didn’t have any reason not to believe her.

“There she is!” Sarah cheers as soon as the pair walks into the place. Jumping from her seat she rushes over and pulls Lis into a tight hug, making her chuckle. “I’m so happy we can finally meet you! I’m Sarah,” she grins widely, giving her two kisses on the cheeks.

“Hi, Nice to meet you. I’m Annalise, but I guess you already know that,” she jokes with an airy laugh.

“There was no other way with this dude always talking about you,” Sarah chuckles giving a look to Harry, who just shrugs his shoulders, not even trying to mask his affection towards Lis. “Come on, only Charlotte is missing, but she is always running late.”

Arriving to their table Lis is greeted by the rest of the band and everyone warmly introduces themselves to her, Charlotte arriving just when Harry and Lis take their seats at the table. Though Harry had no doubts Lis would get along well with his friends, it’s still relieving to see her get settled so easily with the band. He can sense her restraint at the beginning, but soon enough she is talking and telling stories as if she knew them all for years.

“How do you make summer vacation work with Benji? Harry said he is spending time with his grandparents now,” Sarah questions over the main course and Lis seems a little taken aback, which Sarah immediately recognizes. “Oh, I’m sorry, should I not ask about him?”

“No, it’s alright. I just… I guess I didn’t think Harry shared much about him.” Her eyes wander over to the man in question who is deep in conversation with Mitch, didn’t even hear what Sarah asked.

“Oh please, he wouldn’t stop telling us about him every time we are at the studio,” she chuckles.

“Really?”

“Yeah. He really likes the boy.” Lis just packs it all up in her head, labeling  it as another reason why she loves Harry so much.

“Well, he is going to go out to camp for a week, but other than that, he usually comes to work with me.”

“That’s so amazing!”

The evening carries on and Harry can’t not notice how Lis keeps glancing down at her phone every five minutes. One time, when she reaches for the phone his hand grabs hers, stopping her from grabbing the device.

“You sure everything is alright? You keep looking at your phone.” He tries to find a hint, anything in her eyes that gives away why she is acting different, but she cautiously keeping her gaze diverted from his.

“I’m good, don’t worry,” she answers, but when her phone lights up, an incoming call from her mom, she immediately snatches it from the table and excusing herself she walks out to the street to answer the call.

Harry clenches his jaw, looking after her, knowing well something is not right, but he doesn’t know why she wouldn’t tell him what it is about. He tries to stay still, to let her get it sorted out as she wishes, but he just can’t.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbles to the group before going after Lis.

Walking out he stops at the entrance, looking both ways before she spots her at the corner of the building, her back facing him as she holds the phone to her ear, leaning against the brick wall. He has a fleeting thought about not eavesdropping on a conversation that wasn’t meant for his ears, but his curiosity and worry brings him forward.

“But you didn’t tell him right?” her voice is heard when he is a few steps away from her. “Maybe I should bring him home earlier… But mum, what if he just turns up there? He knows you live there, I can’t have him just waltz in… No, I get it, but there’s little you can do when he is there… I really don’t know… He hasn’t, but it’s a matter of time, I think. He already knows I work there and God knows why he was asking around about me.”

Harry soon realizes what the conversation must be about and he is definitely not impressed by several reasons. Standing there with his jaw clenched, he waits for her to end the call and realize his presence. When she finally says her goodbye, pushing herself away from the brick wall, Harry watches her turn around and jump at the sight of him.

“Harry, you—“

“What’s going on?” he cuts her off right away, eyes burning down on her.

“I, uhh—Can we… Can we have this conversation at home?” she pleads quietly.

“Just tell me what it’s about, because I thought I was seeing things when I noticed that you’ve been acting weird, but I was clearly right. There is something and I want to know what it is.” “Harry, I really don’t want to ruin the evening with it now.”

“Nonsense, because there’s no way I can just act like everything is fine until we get home.”

Exhaling shakily, Lis realizes she can’t push it back any further, she has to come clear.

“Last weekend, when we were away, Austin called Golden Sunshine, he was asking about me and the girl who works on the weekend accidentally told him that it’s in fact my workplace. He wanted to know stuff about me, but didn’t get much. Then today my mum noticed a car waiting across the street for about an hour. Someone was sitting in it or that’s how she saw. Mum thinks it was him.”

Harry feels his rage build up with each passing moment for two reasons: one being that Annalise wanted to keep it away from him that her ex is suddenly looking for her. Second is that Austin has the nerve to pop up out of nowhere after abandoning his family and creep the Hell out of Lis and basically everyone in her family probably.

“And why didn’t you tell me this? You think I wouldn’t want to know if your ex is suddenly looking for you? That’s pretty major, Lis,” he snaps, having a hard time to contain himself as much as he would like to.

“I didn’t want to worry you, hoped the call was nothing, but the whole car thing is now stressing me out. I would have told you, I just…” exhaling sharply she runs her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know, I guess it feels weird to talk about him with you.”

“It’s not like you are sharing with me your sex life with him, this is stuff that I want to know about, this concerns your and Benji’s safety as well and I feel like I have a saying in those things.” “I know, I’m sorry. It was stupid of me to not tell. Please don’t be mad at me,” she begs, desperate to somehow make it right though she knows she messed up.

She can tell Harry is fuming, his piercing green eyes are filled with the mixture of worry, rage and anger for many reasons, all of them valid in her opinion. She wishes she could go back in time and tell him about it in a different way, but there’s nothing to do now.

“Harry, please say something,” she breathes out, wanting nothing else than to finally hear what he is thinking about. However, he is not letting her in that easily now.

“Let’s get back inside. We’ll talk when we are alone.”

Though Lis wants to protest, she knows it’s what should happen. Nodding shortly the two of them head back inside and push everything down until the end of dinner. It’s hard to focus on their group once they return, they both feel far away from the dinner table.

The evening drags longer than they would have liked, or that’s just how they feel. They try their best to mask their feelings, not wanting to bring their friends into this upsetting situation. However, when they are sitting in the car on their way home, they both notice that they could cut the tension for sure. Lis is chewing on her bottom lip nervously, afraid of what’s been going on in Harry’s head and cursing herself out at the same time for not telling him the first moment.

“I can stay at home tonight if you don’t want me over,” she finds herself saying, voice quiet and reserved. Harry glances in her direction for a split second.

“Is that what you want? You want to go home?”

“No. I just figured you might want some… space.”

“Well, I don’t. So unless you want to go home yourself, I want you at mine.”

It’s relieving, though still not enough to ease her anxiety that’s been clawing on her chest all evening. But at least he still wants her around.

The silence is painful for the both of them and it’s something that hasn’t happened between them since they’ve met. Lis keeps glancing in his way, trying to figure out what he must be thinking about, but it seems like Harry keeps his emotions so much at bay, nothing gives away where his thoughts are lying. She is forced to wait until they can finally talk.

Walking inside Lis feels out of place, for the first time ever since she has started seeing Harry. She watches him drop off his belongings in the bedroom before returning to the living room, a hard look on his handsome face. It seems like he is trying hard to find the right words to start this conversation. Hands on his hips he stands in front of her, eyes fixed on the floor before they finally meet her desperate ones.

“Okay, first of all, is Benji alright? Do you want us to go and bring him home?” he asks with a tired sigh.

“I-I think he is fine for now. Mum says she is keeping a close eye on him.”

“Alright. Just let me know if you change your mind and want him here.”

“Thank you,” she nods shortly and through the bitterness of the situation, she is thankful he still takes the time to think about her boy.

“Okay and now let’s talk about why you kept it from me that Austin has been looking for you. Any specific reason, something I did? Did I make you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it?”

“No! Not at all!” she shakes her head right away. Taking his hand softly she pulls him down to the couch so they sit turned towards each other, her knee brushing against his thigh. Though his hand is a deadweight in her hold, as if he doesn’t want her to hold it, she still doesn’t let go of it. “Harry, I know I can tell you anything and I always do that. I just felt like you’ve had enough to worry about and didn’t want to add to it. I always…” Her voice dies down as she is now fighting with her tears. She’s been putting away these thoughts ever since their first lunch date, when she realized she can’t let go of him and he won’t either.

Harry notices her struggle and pulls his hand out of her hold, bringing it up to her face to cup her cheek. His thumb runs across her soft skin, his eyes falling down at her trembling lips.

“I always feel like a burden to you. I’m not easy to be with because I’m not living the usual life people my age have. It would be hard for a normal guy, but you are not one! I just don’t want to hold you back in any way, but there are things that I can’t change. When I found out that Austin was asking about me I thought this is something I can handle on my own and don’t have to worry you with it.”

“Lis…” he breathes out, starting to finally put together her train of thoughts and though he is still mad, now he is more heartbroken that she is still feeling like she has to be so considerate about him in some cases. “You are not a burden, never was and I can assure you that you’ll never be. I chose to be with you, and not just part of you, all of it. The good, the bad, all of it. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t count on me always, because you can. I want to be there for you no matter what it’s about.”

“I know!” she breathes out shakily, the tears already building up in her eyes. “But I can’t help thinking that one day… you won’t feel the same. Like you’ll be fed up with all the baggage that I come with!”

“What baggage, baby? Your fucker ex? That’s not your fault.”

“Him and… Benji?” she adds.

“Benji is not a baggage, Lis. I love him, would easily do anything for him, he is not a burden in any way. I’m so happy I got to meet him because of you and I’m happy that you are letting me have a part in his life. I already told you, but I’ll never stop telling you that I look up at you so much for everything you do for yourself and for Benji.”

Now she is crying. Hard. The way his eyes filled with nothing but love when he is talking about Benji, it’s all she ever wished for in a man and he is so much more than that. To think that she didn’t even want to let him into her life is a sickening thought, how she didn’t trust him enough to see what an amazing man he is.

Moving forward she climbs to his lap and he circles his welcoming arms around her, holding her close to his chest as she starts sobbing, completely touched by his words.

“I’m sorry I’m so emotional,” she mumbles between sobs. “I just… It’s still so hard for me to understand why…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows exactly what she was thinking about: It’s still so hard for her to understand why he is with her. And it’s heartbreaking to know it’s how she feels, but it also makes him determined to change her way of seeing him for once and for all.

“It’s alright. I just want you to talk to me, okay? I want to know everything that’s important to you, good or bad, doesn’t matter.”

She just nods, holding onto him for dear life. They stay like that for what feels like hours, her crying slowly dies down and he patiently waits for her to breathe normally again, continuously pressing soft kisses to her forehead and the top of her head. When she finally lifts her head up, a small smile plays on her lips and though her eyes are red and puffy from the crying, he still thinks she is the most beautiful man he has ever seen.

“Feeling better?” he murmurs softly and she nods again. “Okay. So what do you want to do about Austin?”

“I haven’t figured it out,” she huffs tiredly. “I don’t even know for sure if it was really him in the car my mum saw and other than the call to my work place, nothing else happened.”

“Is there any reason why you should be afraid of him? Like, has he ever…” Harry doesn’t even get himself to say the word, just thinking about it rages him.

“No,” she shakes her head. “But I haven’t seen him in ages, God knows what he is like now.”

“If you want to move here with Benji, if that would make you feel safer, I’m perfectly okay with that. I have plenty of space for the both of you.”

“You’d let us come here just like that?” she asks, stunned at how easily he is talking about such a major step.

“Of course,” he nods confidently. A soft smile tugs on her lips as she kisses him gently, as a way of saying thank you.

“I think we are fine for now,” she then replies. “But thank you.”

A short silence sets in, both of them are deep in their thoughts, processing everything that happened tonight and there’s one more question stuck on Harry’s mind that he needs to ask.

“So… what happens if he reaches out? If he wants to meet you and Benji?”

Lis sighs heavily, the thought has been haunting her as well all week and she hasn’t come up with a solid answer to this just yet.

“It depends on what he really wants. It’s not like I want him back in my life, but if he wants to see Benji… I don’t think I can tell him no. Legally, he is allowed to see him. It’s a whole different story that I don’t want him to though.”

Her answer was valid and reasonable, though it still brought some uneasiness to Harry. Just thinking about Austin meeting Benji makes him want to scream. The man left his family so easily, like they meant absolutely nothing to him and he is the reason why Lis had to build up her whole life alone. Not that Harry would have liked it better if he was still in the picture, but in his beliefs, a man who abandons his family is simply not a man. Even if he didn’t want to be with Lis anymore, he should have made sure to support her in raising Benji and not just disappear into thin air.

However Harry knows he doesn’t have a say in it and that what Lis said is relevant. The man might have walked out of their lives, but legally he still has the right to see Benji, nothing is stopping him.

Harry keeps his doubts and fears to himself, he needs to be the person Lis can rely on now, whatever is about to happen. It’s all secondary what he thinks or feels right now.

 The two of them stay on the couch for another hour, just talking and sharing and they both feel like it was what they needed. Their relationship was going smooth, but they had to realize they still have a lot to work on and tonight was a step forward. They then have a hot shower together and this time they don’t get carried away, it’s all about the gentle touches, the hot water washing away their worries for a short time, keeping it just an intimate but not sexual moment.

Lying in bed Harry pulls her close, her head lies on his chest as she is drawing little patterns on his chest, her fingers delicately following the lines of his tattoos. Her thoughts are wandering, jumping from one thought to the other until something makes her come to a halt, a soft, ironic chuckle escaping her lips.

“Wha’s so funny?” Harry asks quietly.

Lifting her head, she rests her chin on his chest, her arms spread out over his ribs. It’s not even that funny, more ironic seeing the timeline of their relationship.

“I just think it’s pretty hilarious how I was the one to warn you several times not to make me regret my decisions about you and then I end up being the one thinking that you regretted getting together with me.”

She laughs some more, a smile tugging on Harry’s lips as well, seeing that it’s indeed a little funny, if he thinks about it.

“Oh how the tables have turned,” he grins, kissing her forehead.

“But on a serious note,” she starts, clearing her throat. “Do you have any regrets?”

“None,” he answers right away without hesitation.

“Not even one tiny bit?”

“Absolutely none,” he confirms and pulls his arms tighter around her. She smiles widely, pushing herself up a bit so her lips can meet his.

“Hope it stays this way.”

-

NEXT PART

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TAGLIST

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[hmslusitania]

I see we're going ape over buddie and Choices tonight so

Yknow in 2.07, when Shannon comes back and her and Eddie have their first scene together? The argument at the end, after Eddie says it wouldn't be a good idea for her to see Christopher bc she left them, she says she needed him, she needed a husband and a co-parent - and "I needed someone to have my back!"

To which EDDIE says, "I always had your back"

*insert Incredibles "coincidence? I think NOT" gif here*

(Also side note, I do like that the show doesn't try to sugarcoat what Shannon did being messed up, and that Eddie's own actions weren't really the right thing either[thinking about his conversation with Buck where he says he got to pretend he left for a noble cause even tho he was running], and that it was just a sticky situation that neither of them were equipped to handle in any way, and snowballed. I do kind of wish we could've gotten post-divorce Shannon and Eddie and Christopher interactions, figuring out how they fit together, if at all, bc I like those intricate and messy situations but I could see how that might get too close to retreading old ground re: Michael and Athena's divorce. But I do hate how ive seen the fandom like. Seem to oversimplify things with Shannon sometimes? And make her the ultimate villain, and Eddie Did Nothing Wrong, Ever)

Hi Anon!

The decision to have Buck and Eddie's first bonding moment end with "You can have my back any day" and "or, y'know, you could have mine" only to then six episodes later find out that at least a contributing factor to Eddie's marriage dissolving was that he "didn't have her back" is like. Such a galaxy brain chaos move for them to take, honestly. Like?? They could've had the phrasing be literally anything in 2x07 but instead they had it directly echo Buck and Eddie in 2x01. What was the reason? Why did they do this?

As for the rest of your ask:

(gosh this got long and, uh, opinionated. It is Not Pretty below the cut)

One of the things I really liked about Eddie Begins is that we did get to see him at the beginning of his journey in being Chris's dad because it gives us an opportunity to appreciate how amazingly he's grown as a father. Like, he didn't start out as a perfect dad and he was definitely kind of lost in the woods at the beginning there when it came to the whole "how do I parent" thing. And before Eddie Begins, we'd only ever seen the end result of the growth he's gone through, where he really is a fantastic dad whose son is basically his entire reason for being. Before Eddie Begins, we get to hear him say things like "I left first" and "I've failed that kid more times than I can count but I love him enough to never stop trying" but we kinda have to take that on faith? Because we hadn't actually seen him be anything besides a good dad until we saw his Begins episode. (And even then in his begins it's like "area man in his early 20s unsure how to care for small child while also coping with PTSD and a toxic support system" which like. yeah. no shit. there's one hell of a learning curve there)

The thing about Eddie and Shannon as a couple and as parents that always gets to me is that they were so fucking young. We don't know exactly how old Eddie is in the show, but we can guesstimate pretty safely that he's around the same age as Ryan which would make him between 23 and 24 when Chris was born, and it seems reasonable to believe Shannon was around the same age. It's also a pretty common reading in the fandom -- although I'm not sure how much canon support there is for it because we really, really don't know anything about their relationship pre-Christopher unless I'm forgetting something -- that they got married because Shannon got pregnant and that was the Done Thing. And when you're 23-24, baby on the way, freshly married, that is just like. So much. It sure as hell ruined my parents' relationship when they did that exact thing, and then they disliked each other until they were 27 and then they got divorced, and no one was happier than me about it, I have to tell you.

Back to the show, I can only give you my impressions, obviously, but the impression I have always gotten from the whole "I left too" conversation and the context that goes into it and the different behaviours we see exhibited by the characters is that Eddie "left" first and it comes across to me that he was basically an early twenty-something kid running scared from the abstract concept of being a father in general, and then when he was forced home by an honourable discharge, and was confronted with the reality of Christopher, he managed to step the fuck up and become Christopher's dad. It's there in 2x02, right? "Oh, you've got a kid? I love kids!" "I love this one." Eddie doesn't strike me as a Swiss Army Knife all-purpose Dad(tm) the way Bobby is. Eddie is Christopher's dad. (and like, of course, he's obviously moved by kids when he's on a call, we've seen that enough times to know that if there's a child who can even glancingly remind him of Christopher, Eddie's sense of self-preservation goes out the window, and I love that about him as heart-stopping as it can be in practice)

Shannon, on the other hand, didn't run from the idea of being a mother -- at first. When she left, it wasn't from the abstract. She left Chris (and "gave up" on Eddie, thanks Helena). She was not running from a concept, she was running from a reality. I think Shannon is a fascinating character to include in a television show as a side character, because she really isn't a one note character. Like, she was unarguably a bad mother, and from what we saw, she was a questionable romantic partner to have (but as you said, anon, Eddie was also not 100% the best romantic partner when he was with Shannon either; their entire relationship so far as I can tell was built on sexual chemistry which, uh, super does not sustain a relationship), but she also seems to have been a devoted daughter? I mean, yeah, it's entirely possible that her mom being sick was a convenient excuse to bail -- and obviously she didn't come back after her mom died, and didn't, y'know, contact her son or husband in the interim, so yes, I can see that being a valid way to read the situation. I don't think she's the Ultimate Evil, because she strikes me as a very human character in all the ways that people are more often than not really fucking flawed.

But then we get back to the actual break-up scene. The first time I watched it (and second, and third; then the fourth time the person I was watching with was like "I mean, sure, but it could also be read in this light") her "I'm just learning how to be someone's mother" speech really bothered me? Partly because it was the abstraction of it, right? Eddie doesn't like kids, he likes Christopher, and Shannon sort of had the inverse journey there, I guess, where it went from she didn't know how to be Christopher's mother, to she didn't know how to be a mother. And that speech bothered me because it always sounded to me like she was bailing again. She begged Eddie to let her back into Christopher's life (guilt? I guess?) and like, straight up bribed him with sex which was sure a choice, and then decides -- for a second time -- that she's out. It sounded, to me, she was handing Eddie papers and maybe, in a few years, possibly, once she'd had "time" to "figure out how to be someone's mother" she would try again. Just like she had in the interim between leaving when Christopher was little and the time of season 2.

And like, that could totally be a misunderstanding of the scene and what she was saying. It's what I took away from it, but that could very well be influenced by the fact I was raised by divorced parents and my dad had custody and if you count up all the time I spent with either parent when I was a minor, I was predominantly raised by my father and have had an especially tempestuous relationship with my mother that is mostly (sometimes) repaired now that I'm in my late twenties and have not lived with her since I was sixteen.

Back to the show, and to your comment that the fandom tends to treat Shannon like the Ultimate Evil and act like Eddie Did Nothing Wrong, I mean. Yeah. Fandom as a rule tends to shirk nuance. We're all fools here on the internet sitting in our blue industrial waste container crying about a wee woo show. I personally believe a more nuanced take on that might be that Eddie has shown a great capacity to learn from his mistakes (sometimes to make fun, shiny, new ones, but for the most part, just like ends up doing better the next time) and Shannon did not show that capacity in the time we knew her.

I think, depending on what they did with it, there was potential for an interesting storyline if they'd played through the divorce. I don't think it would've been rehashing ground covered by Michael and Athena's divorce because I can't see Eddie and Shannon having reached a point of amicability and friendship. The only thing we know they had in common was Christopher, and frankly, when you boil it down, the ways they engaged with Christopher as a person were so disparate that -- to me -- it really didn't seem like they had Christopher in common when you get right down to it. But I wouldn't have wanted to see Christopher and Eddie dragged through an ugly divorce process. They deserve better than that.

There's also a conversation to be had about Shannon's blatant ableism towards her own son, but that is extremely not my lane since I am not disabled myself. But even from an outside perspective, basically their entire parking lot conversation in Haunted, uh, haunts me with it's repugnance and the fact that instead of calling her on any of it, Eddie "Chronically touch starved" Diaz's response was to kiss her? Gosh golly do I wish that was one of the mistakes he learned from properly instead of finding a new, shiny version.

ANYWAY this got long, tl;dr (although if you clicked on the read more, you probably read it) version is No, Shannon is not the Ultimate Evil, she's a shitty mom not a demon in a skin suit and a pretty yellow sundress; and No, Eddie is not a flawless human who's never done wrong in his life but holy fuck is he trying and he'd be the first person to tell you he's made mistakes (and often has been); and no, sorry, I don't want to see the divorce storyline play out because we probably would've had to see either Eddie Bashing, Shannon Redemption, or Shannon turning up again like a cardboard cut out of a cartoon villain the way Eva did and I want to be witness to exactly zero of those things.

[penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories]

So We Refuse To Take it Tragically

A/N: I’ve just accepted my fate is to be obsessed with this man, so here’s yet another Obi-Wan fic. There will be a second part to this, and I’m thinking a mini series of in-between moments. I won’t give spoilers, but this is NOT my normal type of fic, but he’s an exception to every rule in my book, apparently. Thank you to @caffeine-in-an-iv​ for being my beta on this, I don’t know where this would be without you!

Thank you also to @beskars​ for her post here that birthed this. Always blessing us with fuel for the thirst. 

And to the one I know IRL that found my tumblr, one I will refer to as Top Voice, this is your final warning to gtfo before feasting your eyes on unprecedented filth and sap. 

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Force sensitive! Fem Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: SMUT!!!  Cumeating, hair pulling, Comfort Sex, ANGST!! (It has a happy ending later, I promise, but it starts after ROTS, so it’s par for the course) If you’re gonna write not-particularly-pertinent-to-plot-porn, might as well make it unnecessarily detailed, right? As usual, too many feelings for porn,  More warnings will be in the tags to prevent spoilers 

Title from one of my favorite quotes: 

“Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”

-D.H. Lawrence

Tatooine is no place for a baby.

 There are no soft surfaces, nor comforts, nor surplus of anything. It’s desolate and deprived and oppressive, but you watch as Obi-Wan shields the child from its harsh, sand-pelting winds with his whole body, despite the fact the child fits in the space between his wrist and elbow. It’s overzealous, but you don’t say anything of it.

 The past two days have ripped away nearly everything he held dear, insisting on devastating every tender place. Nothing sacred has been left untouched.

 He broke the code long before he met you, and you know part of why his love for you came so easily, why he had no qualms with breaking his vows, was because he’d long since loved the man that became his family in every way that matters.

 Love and Light so tightly knit together the fabric of his being one could not be separated from the other. 

 And you could take on the entire Force with your two fists for how it had rewarded him for it with Hate and Darkness coming from someone so close it shattered something foundational in Obi-Wan. 

 Yet even now, there isn’t Darkness surrounding his signature. There’s brokenness and his ever-present equilibrium has been replaced by jagged shards. But despite it all, those rugged pieces still reflect light erratically in their shine.

 It’s a loss and betrayal that spans many different planes: on one level, there’s nowhere you look in the galaxy beyond just the two of you that isn’t marked by the Empire’s rise in power, marking the end of the Republic he fought for and the fall of the Jedi, his community, comrades, and only home he’d ever known. And on another level, you’ve seen the weight of war and worse in Obi-Wan’s eyes, but nothing, nothing like this.

 The pain is panoramic, but it’s also profoundly personal.

 Even still, his attention isn’t on himself, but on the fussy bundle in his arms.

 You wonder: is it the galaxy that doesn’t allow this man time to heal? Or is it his own choice to throw himself into the need of others so he has a tangible reason to avoid his own torments?

 When he places the baby into the arms of the young couple, you know the times ahead will give the answer to that.

 Because there aren't the cries of the past few nights to wake either of you, there’s silence. 

 You long to fill it, to try to bridge this insurmountable void with something, anything you could say. But you know it’s bigger than you. So, so much bigger than you.

 Monumental obstacles and tremendous loss find themselves standing in the threshold of an abandoned hut smaller than your flat was on Coruscant. 

 “Well… it’s not much to look at, certainly. But the moisture vaporator seems to be in repairable condition, and we’re just far enough from town to avoid any curious neighbors. What do you think?” He turns to you, and his eyes, dark circles under and all, turn sharp in their assessment of your response. 

 “I told you. I’m going wherever you are so long as you’ll let me.” Your voice is gentle but adamant as you remind him. 

 He walks up from the living room to the threshold of the kitchen where you are, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. “Be that as it may, I’m asking your input on where we’re going, or living, as your happiness means a great deal to me.” 

 There’s still no smile, but it’s the brightest his energy has felt since the last time you saw him before he came to your door in Coruscant days ago, whispering a rushed, heartfelt farewell, which you quickly countered with an emphatic, unshakable, “I’m coming with you.”

 You look up at him, gliding your hand across his cheek into the hair at the nape of his neck. There’s Darkness at the door of his soul that he’s fighting off every moment, and he has the audacity to speak of your happiness. 

 You don’t dare bring up his. It’s irony, at best. 

 So you smile, timid, knowing the gesture in itself might be blasphemous to the tone, but genuine all the same. “We can make a life here. I know we can.”  

 He scans your eyes, looking to find the authenticity in your statement. “Are you certain?” 

 He’s not asking about the hut anymore. Or, at least, not just the hut. 

 “Obi-Wan, I never had any delusion that any life I had with you would be easy. I thought I’d only ever be getting you in secret, sparse moments. Although I’d never, ever wish for it to be under the circumstances that it is, having you like this is better than I ever hoped.”

 There’s silence as he processes your words, then a wry twist of his features. “How I wish that your expectations needn’t be so low.”

 “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” You incline your head, trying to find the words to convey what you mean. 

 “Nothing any person or any planet anywhere has to offer me holds a candle to what I’ve found in you, nor will it ever. I’d never trade unshakable wholeness for the transience of materialistic happiness.”

 You know this has to resound with him. Is it not within the core set of values he was taught to forsake comfort in any avenue for something far greater? 

 His eyes flick between yours, gauging, and you can feel him reaching out to feel at your signature to solidify the truth. 

 If you knew him any less, you might be insulted at his questioning of your trustworthiness. But it’s not you he doesn’t trust. It’s something good willingly giving itself to him that causes his wariness. 

 The Force can have your middle finger along with your fists. 

 Then he’s relaxing into you, letting out an exhale that seems heavy with more than just air, and burying his nose in your hair for his next inhale. 

 ****

 By the end of the day, you’ve gathered enough supplies for basic necessities and to start on the repairs of the hut. You both snarf down a ration bar before shortly thereafter clearing the blown-in sand off what must have been the bed of the home. It’s a half circle indenture in the wall, and it has a dip obviously made for a mattress or cushion of some sort, but as all that’s available are the blankets bought in town today, you set to fluffing them to some semblance of comfort. 

 Fatigue pulls you into it far sooner than the suns setting. Last night was your first night without Luke, spent in a room you rented in town. Today was spent traveling to and from the hut, discussing details on what needs to be done, and you? You are absolutely exhausted. You can only imagine what he must feel like. 

 Obi-Wan secures the lock on the door before sitting on the side of the bed, looking off into nothing for a long, long moment. 

 You push up to your side, placing a hand on his back. “Obi…”

 His shoulder nudges toward your hand, but he cuts you off. “It’s going to get quite cold when the suns set, and since the stove isn’t properly ventilating yet, we’re going to have to work with body heat.”

 “I’ll try to mask my reluctance,” you retort.

 He turns his face to you then, and just a smidge of humor sweeps across his eyes before he sheds his cloak, followed by everything else until only his pants remain. You’ve long since stripped down to your own sleeping comfort level, so before he can fold his cloak along with the rest of his discarded clothing, you take it and cover yourself with it. 

 He shakes his head a little at you once he’s done, settling down next to you, throwing the covers over both of you. 

 “Tell me what you need.” You’re face to face with him, but his expression is unreadable. 

 “I… I don’t know.” He considers you as if you held the answer to the question you just asked him.

 “What about want, then? What do you want, Obi-Wan?” You wish he didn’t have his shields perpetually raised these days. It’d be so much easier to just read his energy. 

 His hand reaches up so he can stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You’re tired, darling. Rest.” 

 Ah, there it is. If the answer to the question of desire is him counter offering his own response with the fact you’re tired… 

  “So are you. But you still want.” You press your body fully against his, dropping your voice down to a whisper. “And so do I.” 

 You won’t push anymore than that, letting him take or leave the invitation. For you, it’s not even a question. It’s been four months since you last saw him. Since you’d last felt his touch.

 You’d spent the last few nights in each other’s arms, but between Luke's shrill cries and the deafening devastation of the events of the days prior, it’d been just that: sleep. Or, what tousled, disturbed counterfeit the circumstance offered you both.  

 For him, though, there’s an abysmal weariness that digs far beyond lack of sleep, and you don’t dare infringe upon him in any way.

 But there’s still a longing present, and even without his Force signature to guide you into his feelings, he can’t hide his eyes. 

 You watch the moment he makes a decision solidify across his countenance right before he presses his lips against yours. You sigh into it, letting the draw of his skin on yours pull you into orbit.

 Because that’s exactly what happens. It’s a kiss for a kiss’ sake, for flavor and fervency and the fullness of each other, but it quickly gains its own momentum when his tongue parts your lips truly. 

 It’s an acute absence. Not having his energy surrounding you with his shields so far up. But it also gives sharp attention to the press of skin against skin, makes it an anchor and an outlet for all that is still too tender to even acknowledge.

 You find grip in his hair, purposefully running your hands the opposite of the way he combs it as he takes your face in both hands and pulls you into him all the more. 

 When you both need to breathe, he only moves so far away that his lips still brush against yours on every exhale. “I..” he starts, then stops. 

 The hand still in his hair rakes through it gently, scratching your fingertips against his scalp as you wait for him to complete his thought.

 “Let me taste you,” he says at last. You know it's a question from the way he stills, waiting for permission, but it’s phrased as nothing like it. 

 You raise an eyebrow. “Is that a rhetorical quest…”

 “Oh, hush.” He’s already nudging you over onto your back, situating his body over yours, claiming your lips again. You allow yourself to sink into it, cherishing his weight over you, his hand roaming your ribcage, before pulling back to speak. 

 “I’m sorry, are you now getting on to me for my sass? Because… oh!”

 He finds a nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt, pinching softly with a small tug. 

 “By all means, continue. I was most intrigued.” His smirk is back, but it fixes you with a tinge of worry when it again proves to be a smile only skin deep.

 You place two fingers just shy of his forehead, but he catches your wrist in an almost painful clasp. The alarm casted by his expression quickly is washed away by a carefully constructed impassiveness, and your heart sinks. 

 He has to see it, because he bows his head in apology. “Not tonight.”

 And before you have any room to respond, he’s shifting himself down as he lifts your shirt up, placing a single taunting, wet kiss on each nipple before moving even further down, nipping at the skin right below your belly button. 

 He’s distracting you from what he’s not allowing you access to, and you know it, and you let him anyway. That’s what this is, isn’t it? Distraction from the barrage of the mind. If that’s what he needs, that’s what you’ll give.

 As he toys with the hem of your underthings, and you lift your hips to assist their removal, you realize it’s exactly what you need too.

 Except he apparently isn’t planning to remove your underwear at all. With a casual flick of his hand, your legs are parted and held like that with a no-nonsense sprout of Force energy. Then he’s simply pulling the cloth to the side and brings his mouth torturously closer, but stops just before contact. 

 You push up to your elbows to tell him you can’t take much of those teasing breaths he’s taking, blowing hot air against sensitive nerve endings. But when you hear his breath stutter as he just looks, unhurried in admiration, you decide against it, even as you flush at the undivided attention. Sprawling his palms out over your inner thighs, he dips down to press his mouth between his fingers, sucking not-so-gently into the soft skin, sending the flesh into tremors before he’s even really done anything to you.

 He says your name as he opens you up with his fingers, parting your folds so everything is bared to his view. You start to squirm, the exposure starting to feel a little too heady, and you’re starting to appeal with the beginning of his name when he leans forward, straight away connecting his lips to your clit. You try to thrust up into it as some shameful noise leaves you, but there’s only so much movement you have with your legs still pinned. 

 He loves to tease, so you don’t expect him to retract the energy that constricted your legs at the first resistance. Instead, he slides his hands under your ass, pulling you on to his tongue and lets you push your hips into him unchecked.

 He hums at your enthusiasm, the reverberation sending your hands into his hair again, which gifts you with even more noises from him. 

 It doesn’t take long at all, and you’re coming undone on his tongue, biting into your forearm to dampen your cry. 

 He doesn’t stop until you push at his shoulder, signaling your tender surrender. He obeys, looking up at you from between your thighs, absolutely besotted, eyes shining a shade brighter than before. 

 Then. Obi-Wan Kenobi keeps his eyes on yours before dipping his head and tilting his jaw, running his beard right where you’re still open and vulnerable, abrasion grating in a way you know you’ll be feeling all day tomorrow. 

 He licks his lips as he moves back up to kiss you again, letting you taste yourself on him. 

 He goes easily when you gesture for him to lie on his back so you can straddle him, carefully avoiding any contact where he’s throbbing for you. His hands fall right to your waist, stroking gently as he waits for you to initiate. 

 You focus your study on the section of his hair that’s fallen in his face, twirling a finger in it, happy to have anywhere to look but his eyes. 

 He’d normally at least be in your mind by now, and even though you understand it, well, the drought of it is as appropriate for the planet as anything. 

 You remember too late to raise your own shields against any accidentally too-loud thoughts, as Obi-Wan cups his hand on your chin, forcing your gaze to his, saying your name quietly in calling.

 “You have to know, it isn’t anything to do with…”

 You interrupt him. “No. No. I won’t have you addressing my insecurities of all things in light of…”

 “Please listen, love. I need you to know, it hasn’t anything to do with the love I have for you. That hasn’t changed and never will. I think I need… “ He pauses, solemn in thought. “Time,” he finishes finally.

 You knew this already in the pit of your stomach, but hearing him say it, hearing him affirm that it isn’t you insufficiency… you hate that you needed it as much as you did. 

 And if he needs time? That’s what you’ll give. But he also has a want, evidenced by the brush of him against you when you scoot yourself down his torso. 

 You take the hem of his pants with you when you continue down, ridding him of them and his shorts. But when you wrap your hand around him and begin to lower your mouth, he grips your chin again, shaking his head. 

 “I can’t… please, just.”  It’s always an anomaly when he’s at a loss for words, usually ever-so articulate.  

 A gasp chokes out of you when you feel the phantom of his mind. Not in full, no. With barriers, and it’s projected out, not at all the same sensation to being within it. 

 It’s desperation. For how long it’s been, for how drained he feels, how he’s not sure how long this will last, and how much he yearns to be inside you.

There’s not even a second of debate in your mind as you take your position on his lap again, lifting your hips, intention apparent. He takes his cock in hand, holding steady so you can start to seat yourself onto the thick push of him. 

 The hitch in his breath is your only warning before he seizes the undersides of your thighs, halting you from taking him any further.

 His eyes are tightly shut, and you know from watching him before that his facial expression is an attempt at borderline meditation, except it’s several long seconds before he achieves anything resembling calm. 

 It’s as good a time as any to push his hands off you and squirm around to take him a little deeper. You plan on rubbing your victory in, but your smirk is wiped away with a whine at the elation. Instead of stopping you again, he almost imperceptibly thrusts up, and it’s your turn to falter, slamming your hands into his chest, nails digging in, working against your weight trying to pull you down onto him. 

 It goes on like that, until you’re both bordering on hysteria before you’ve even fully taken him. You can’t figure out if it’s a worse torment to keep delaying or continuing. 

 Obi-Wan seems to have come to his own conclusion to that, as he finally opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he places his palms flat on the tops of your thighs and pushes down until your skin is flush with his.

 You pull a hand up, biting on your fist, trying to stifle the exclamation in your throat.

 He pulls it away, voice ragged as he speaks. “I want to hear you, little one. We needn’t hide anymore.”

 It’s a dimensional statement. For one, no one is around for miles, a stark contrast to your quarters on Coruscant where you at least attempted to be considerate of your too-near neighbors when it came to noise. For another, it’s the irony of being in hiding from the Empire, but being allowed to be open in your relationship with each other finally.

 And the deepest irony is that you both have your barriers up so firmly right now all you can concentrate on is bared skin.

 Oh, but what a beautiful spanse of bared skin he is. Freckled and almost luminously pale, bending and curving with the strength of the form underneath.

 He sits up slowly, generating a breathless plea from both of you at the new angle. A search of your eyes asks you a question, and you’re nodding, kissing him with the full brunt of your craving. 

 You slide up and then down again just as he drives up, and you’ve found your rhythm, just like that. 

 His hands push you onto him every time you pull up, and his tongue laves your breasts, sucking and biting along your collarbone, as you rake your nails down his chest, over the backs of his shoulders, his scalp, anything you can touch. 

 It’s enough to send him into a chorus of groans, shoving himself hard up into you.

 He doesn’t even speak it aloud, just projects the apologetic warning that he’s on the edge.

 When his thumb finds your clit, everything in you goes tense despite the relief. You clench around him, hard, and he instantly moves his hands to your shoulder blades pulling you flush against him as he lets out an unrestrained sound against your breasts. 

 You push his thumb away from where it’s stilled against you, replacing it with your own. His fingers twitch in their bruising grip, and you can feel him throbbing inside you.

 You stay like that for a moment, just letting him ride out his bliss, whispering sweet affirmations into his hair.

 When he looks up at you again, his eyes are glassed over. You wonder if it’s ecstasy that is the cause, or something from the bedrock boiling to the surface. 

 He doesn’t give you a chance to elaborate, flipping you over on to your back. The moment he withdraws, you can feel the mess dripping down your inner thighs. 

 It takes everything in you to not come at the sight alone as Obi-Wan dips further down your body, parting you and lapping his tongue right where you’re weeping evidence of desire. 

 You know you have to be making a mess of his face and beard, but he certainly doesn’t seem to mind, indulging on his own spill infused with yours. 

 When he adds two fingers in you and curls them strategically, searing heat shoots through your lower stomach as you arch against his mouth, his name a high whisper with absolutely no suppression, echoing across the empty stone walls of the home. 

 He leaves a final tender kiss against you before lying down next to you, pulling you into his arms, and you pull him into yours right back when your limbs remember how to function.

 His head drops against yours, and his eyes flutter shut, taking a deep inhale, like he’s trying to fill his lungs with more than just oxygen. 

 Nothing is fine, and the world is crumbling. But right now, as the suns finally leave the house in dark, as you clasp each other in tight embrace, as sleep pulls you under, you can pretend it’s fine. If only for a moment.

 *******

  There’s a flash of feeling that startles you awake and into the disorientation that comes from waking in a new place. The sensation worsens when you feel the reverberations of the equivalent of a slammed door in the Force. 

 You sit up quickly and look over to Obi-Wan, who sits on the side of the bed, head in his hands, fingers brutal in their grip.

 You move toward him, and he turns around at the sound. “Go back to sleep, darling. it’s nothing.”

 When you fix him with a gaze that essentially translates “bantha fodder,” he just lies back down, pulling your back into his chest, and you doubt the fact you can’t see his face like this is a mistake. 

 The rhythm of his breathing betrays the fact he is nowhere near sleep, but you find yourself fading off soon again anyway.

 ****

 When you wake in the morning, you’re alone in the bed, which is no surprise. He’s not one to lounge, and if the height of the suns peaking through the window has anything to say, he’s already been up for a while.

 His cloak is still tangled in the blankets, though, and you wrap yourself in it, padding outside after doing something about your morning breath. 

 The hut is situated on a cliff, overlooking a barren valley. The suns glare with their unrelenting eyes of heat even so early in the day, and you stare back as best you can without squinting, daring them to do their worst. They know nothing of the misery that’s already visited this home. They have no hope of competing. 

 You find Obi-Wan cross-legged near the edge of the cliff. Cross-legged and levitating. 

 Of course, you know he can do things like this. It’s just such a different thing to see him doing it . You’ve never had a proper morning with him like this, seeing his routine. He was always up before the sun, you with him, gathering moments and soaking them in before he had to leave again.

 He looks almost peaceful now, not at rest, but peaceful. 

 How?

 How does he still have so much trust in the Force? 

 A more lighthearted thought emerges through the grim train, as you notice he’s opted to not put his tunic back on yet. 

 It doesn’t matter out here, you suppose, there isn’t any other living being for miles around. For that matter, you wonder why he even left the pants. 

 His voice damn near startles you, not even opening his eyes to address you. 

 “Although that may be the case, there are some locations more bearable to get sunburn than others.”

 You blush at being caught, and gently ensure your thoughts aren’t accidentally projected again, but he doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it.

 “Join me?”

 As he opens his eyes and descends the couple inches down back onto the ground, you feel your heart do the same. He’s taught you little things, here and there, and you’ve enjoyed it, learning to tap into that constant humming you never had the tools to channel before.

 But now? 

 What interest do you have with The Force that failed the man who served it without fail? You could burn it down for the atrocities it’s committed even in negligence against the man you love.

 But there’s been enough burning.

 Obi-Wan won’t speak of what transpired on Mustafar, but you’ve caught glimpses. Last night wasn’t the first night you’ve had him back, and it wasn’t the first you’d woken to a severe troubling in his aura. 

 You’re still not sure if Luke is a fussy baby or simply a very responsive one, as it seemed Obi-Wan was already awake before Luke started crying. 

 It was only mere seconds before his shields came slamming down, firmly in place, every time. 

You can’t tell if he’s trying to shelter you from his feelings or blockade them away from himself.

 Maybe both.

 But those seconds? They’re long enough. For just a flash of a charred, severed body. Of hateful, pleading, golden eyes. 

 There’s been enough burning. 

 “I can’t ever be a Jedi, Obi.” 

 “That’s not what I’m asking of you.” 

 He knows your criticisms as well as your compliments over the Jedi. You’ve both discussed it at great length many times, always over a firm understanding and respect, but you’ve never really had long enough to have a conclusion. But you’re not going to push now, not with the fall of it all still so close behind him. 

 “I should think our relationship itself is testimony that I don’t inherently agree or adhere to all Jedi teachings.”

 You drop your eyes, trying to ignore the sweat starting to trickle down your skin from the relentless heat. “I thought maybe you were with me in spite of your better judgement.”

 His brow furrows. “At first, that’s what I may have thought too, but it made itself clear that although what transpired between us was forbidden by the Code…” he trails off for a moment, almost hesitant. “...the way Light was and is exemplified any time I have you in my arms presented a solidified case that not always is the Jedi way synonymous with the will of the Force.”

 He says it wholeheartedly, but you can tell it pains him. It’s easy to never speak ill of the dead, either of individuals or groups. To glorify and wipe away any transgressions to ensure their memory sparkles as you grieve it. 

 The harder thing is to grieve everything, both the good you lost and the bad you experienced from the same source.

 And there’s another level there. Something that has him patting the spot beside him and giving a heartbreakingly forced smile.

 Even through it all, wariness of aspects of his own religion included, he seeks unity with the Force without reservation or resentment.

 You don’t fight him anymore. 

 The war is over, but the battle has just begun, and so help you Maker, you’re going to fight for him to have the chance to heal. 

 So you sit, mimicking his position. 

 When he smiles again, it’s much smaller but not at all fake. 

 “First, clear your mind.”

 *****

 The days are afflicted with an underlying gloom, full of work that busies the hands but leaves the mind to wander, which wasn’t at all a luxurious thing. 

 But the nights are filled with unclaimed time, time in an abundance you never had with each other before. 

 Sometimes it’s shot with silence from the weight of the day, reveling in the presence of another as you work together on the supper dishes.

 Or sometimes there’s almost an excitement, despite the labor ahead, of the plans for the place that’s now your home. 

 “Wouldn’t we have to have some sort of larger equipment to hoist that over the cliff edge?” You wonder aloud to Obi-Wan, speaking of the replacement unit for finally getting some very basic temperature control for the hut. “The way around back is too rough and would scratch it up, and I, for one, wouldn’t want to try pushing it up manu…”

 You stop at his smirk he’s trying to hide with tilting his tea cup higher over his lips. 

 “...Or there’s a Jedi solution to this problem that requires neither, and you’re just letting me ramble on anyway.” You punctuate the end of your statement by tossing a pillow his direction, which just stops. Midair. 

 There’s so much legend surrounding Jedi, you haven’t really been sure what’s factual and what’s fairytale. 

 You certainly knew of some of his abilities, but he didn’t tend to elaborate on details of his missions before, and you never argued, knowing it was a liability for you to have that kind of information if anyone ever found out what you meant to Obi-Wan.

 He chuckles, not even trying to look a little guilty. 

 Once you remember to shut your mouth, you get back to planning. “And that same principle just applies to objects of any size?”

 He nods. “Same principle, just more concentration required.” 

 You tuck your feet under you on your chair as you think on that for a second. You’ll have to ask him to teach you that one next. Mediation alone could get rather dull.

 “So, for instance, if a great amount of concentration is being spent Force-lifting an object up the cliff, it would leave a Jedi vulnerable to, say… projectiles thrown?” You throw another pillow at him, which just as easily halts next to the other, gravity defiant. 

 He could have lowered the first one by now. You raise a brow at the knowledge he’s putting on a show for you. 

 “You’ll have to do better than that, I’m afraid.” 

 More often than not, the time of the evenings are spent loving and lounging in sheets, savoring the difference of unhurried lovemaking, with no heart-wrenching farewell on the horizon.

 But every time you gently ask to reach his mind, he pushes the request and your hand away.

 *******

 Obi-Wan’s visits to see Luke are met with a level of hostility. The man, Owen, seems wary of him, doing everything he can to cut the visit short as you and the woman, Beru, if you remember correctly, look silently to each other for some relief in the tension.

 They already likely know his actual name, but you’re careful to only address Obi as “Ben” here, along with everywhere else that isn’t your hut. It’s precautionary, but if it’s for the sake of protecting Luke and Obi-Wan himself, you’ll do it without any further questions.

 But Luke seems to be doing well, and that is ultimately what matters most. It’s hard to believe how quickly he’s grown in the mere weeks that you’ve been here.

 The boy might be by far Obi-Wan’s greatest purpose being on this planet, but it’s not his only. 

 Master Yoda had given him Jedi texts, yes, but also another task for his time here. 

You’re thankful to talk about either, as it seems to be one of the few things he’ll open up to you about as it pertains to himself. 

 But when he goes to meditate alone, calling for his mentor, his father in every right of the term, he comes back more empty than he left. 

 When you look at him with a too-knowing look, too infiltrating for his comfort, he easily slides into a quip.

 “My old master, it seems, won’t appear unless on his own terms. I’m not sure what else I expected, honestly.”

 ******

 You also learn that the man does not cook. Not that you consider yourself an expert, but at the very minimum, you know how to use spices, which on Tatooine come as hot as their weather.

 “Is it a Jedi thing to have tasteless food, or is that just you?” You tease as he dices some sort of root at your direction while you sift through the cabinet. 

 His eyes are full of mischief when he’s quiet for a moment before speaking up. “I would argue there’s concrete evidence that I’m quite happy to indulge in the pleasures of taste.”

 You can’t help your blush as his very pointed look. 

 Dinner is long forgotten after that, but the night is delectable all the same.

 *****

 Something has shifted in your own Force signature. Something you can’t put your finger on. 

 It doesn’t seem harmful or threatening in essence, but it makes you wary in a way that makes your skin itch with more than the dryness. 

 You try not to think much of it. After all, there’s plenty to do between tending to the vaporator, hunting, fending off the Sand People, and your learning to wield the Force.

 After rumors of Tusken raiders being nearby, you ask Obi-Wan to teach you combat.  This would be starting long before he normally would teach someone, he explained, but he does it anyway. It’s not exactly using the Force at first, having to start with how to even move your body in the event of attack, slowly enhancing those skills with the Force as you become more confident in them. 

 You look forward to it more than any other task. It gives you a strength you haven’t had before, and it’s a whole different level of connection to the Force when you trust it physically, not just in your mind. 

 It’s also another level of trust with Obi-Wan, knowing he’d never hurt you even as he enters the role of a potential threat, guiding you through how to handle it.

 So you don’t know why today your stomach won’t agree to the way you want your body to move. You push through it anyway, despite Obi-Wan’s concerned questioning. 

 You lose your lunch into the rocks, and you really wish he wouldn’t pick you up to take you back into the hut, because the shift of what’s up and what’s down doesn’t help at all. 

 And you wish he wouldn’t dote over you the rest of the day, as if you didn’t feel useless enough already, as if the illness didn’t leave as quickly as it came. 

 You make a mental note to ensure you don’t let yourself become dehydrated again to that point.

 *****

 The trips into town are kept to a minimum, trying to keep curiosity away from the new couple. Also, there wasn’t much to do except barter and spend credits, something you both tried not to do a great deal of. 

 Obi-Wan was sent off with enough Republic credits to get you started here, but it was hit or miss if the vendors took them that day, and he also didn’t want to spend too much at once.

 Nothing was more suspicious than surplus here.

 The woman you brought the limited produce available from seemed… different this trip. 

 Obi-Wan was a couple of stalls down from you, negotiating with a man who had obviously jacked up the price on the items needed. Poor man didn’t know what he was in for. 

 You turned your attention back on to the woman in front of you, and tried to decipher what was different this time and why it felt so familiar. 

 As you pointed to a basket of hubba gourds, inquiring of the price, she gave you one that you knew for a fact was higher than last time. 

 You counter offered the same price as last time you were here, and she firmly stated her price again. Ready to stand your ground, you go to state your price again, she puts her hand to her belly, bringing her skirt in around, revealing a small bump. 

 “Can’t afford your low-ball offers with this one on the way, understand?” 

 The sky suddenly falls around you in thunderous clamor as the physical realm around you moves on, unaffected and unreachable. Almost mechanically, you place the credits she asked for on the table, not even capable of addressing the obvious manipulation.

 Understanding drenches you in its brutal weight as you realize the source why she felt so different this time. 

 Your hands shake in their clasp on the basket as you pull yourself into a side alley, heaving your breakfast up. 

 Because you recognize the same difference in her is the exact same one that has changed your Force signature.

 It’s because there’s a flickering light of another being’s Force signature within you. 

  Tagged as requested: @maybege​

[sunshinetaehun]

Do As I Say

⇢ pairing: yoongi x reader ⇢ genre: smut / pwp ⇢ word count: 3.1k ⇢ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, dom!yoongi, humiliation kink, praise kink, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, oral sex (m + f), edging, orgasm denial, deep throating like real deep, kinda breath play i guess, honestly just pure filth pwp

(A/N: okay so this might just be the single filthiest smut ive ever written but hey ho its 3am and i am weak for dom!yoongi x) 

‘Take it off.’ Yoongi’s voice was harsh and demanding as he sat back on the chair in the corner of his bedroom. He looked almost god-like, sitting there in his grey suit, loosening his tie slightly but never removing his darkened gaze from you. You wanted to move your hands, to follow what he was saying but you felt frozen in place, your heart racing faster than you’d ever felt it before. ‘Now.’ 

His tone was sharp and you could feel how wet you were between your legs even while standing still. At his word you unzipped your dress, one you bought especially for this date night, and let it pool on the floor at your feet. You stood there in only your panties, remembering that you chose to go without a bra tonight purely because your dress looked better without. The coldness of the winter evening not even registering to you as your entire body was heated by your arousal and probably by the intensity of Yoongi’s eyes as he took you in. His tongue darted across his lips as he admired you slowly and if you weren’t so turned on at that moment, you’d have felt too insecure to be standing there in the middle of a room almost completely naked. 

You’d been dating Yoongi for a few months now and yes, you’d slept with him. You’d slept with him a lot actually. You knew he was quite rough in the bedroom, surprisingly unlike his quiet and soft mannerisms in everyday life. No, during sex he didn’t shy away from choking you, spanking you, whispering filthy words in your ear as he pounded you from behind but this… this was something else. You’re not sure what brought it on but all throughout your date night, he’d been looking at you with such an intensity, you weren’t sure if he was mad at you or if he was thinking about fucking you on the floor of the extremely fancy restaurant. The way he kissed you as soon as you got back to the car, the way he pulled your hair hard as he tilted your head back to mark your neck confirmed the latter. You decided quite fast that you definitely enjoyed this side to Yoongi. 

‘On the bed.’ He nodded towards the bed as he spoke, his face seemingly emotionless except for the ever-growing lust in his dark eyes. You did what he said without question, laying on the bed, legs crossed and leaning back on your elbows to look at him expectantly. He looked gorgeous as always but now more than ever. His hair was slightly ruffled from the make out session you’d had when you entered his building, his chest rising and falling heavily indicating his arousal just as much as the obvious bulge in his trousers. But yet he made no attempt to move towards you. 

You frowned as you looked at him, expecting him to at least make a move to remove some of his clothing. Here you were, down to only your panties and he’s sat in a full suit, ‘Aren’t you co-’ A small shake of his head answered your question. 

‘No, not just yet. Just do as I say.’ You nodded instinctively to which a small smile appeared on his lips. You felt a burst of pride in your chest at the sight, something you’d never felt before and it confused you but simultaneously you felt a jolt of electricity in the pit of your stomach. ‘Let me watch you touch yourself?’ His words were masked as a question but his tone of voice indicated it wasn’t really a question, more of a demand much like everything else he’s told you to do. 

There must have been a degree of uncertainty on your face at his words because his face softened, though his eyes still remained dark and lustful as they trained on you. ‘I just want to watch you make yourself feel good. I want to see how wet you are for me, baby. I want to see what I do to you without even touching you. Is that okay?’ His voice was deep, almost raspy and laced with arousal and you could feel yourself getting wetter at just his words. You were confident that there must be a damp patch on your underwear by now, your brain clouded with thoughts of the man in the chair in front of you and you didn’t even realise you were nodding until he spoke again. ‘Good girl, you’re so fucking beautiful. Take them off and open your legs, let me see your pussy.’

The softness had gone from his voice again now, only pure want dripping off of every syllable. You felt an unusual level of pride when he called you beautiful, so different to how you felt when he said even just hours earlier. And with that, you did exactly as he asked, pulling your panties off and throwing them to the floor while spreading your legs, facing directly towards him. You used your hands to spread yourself open, running your fingers between your folds to feel just how wet you were. When you removed your hands, a thin string of your wetness trailed from your entrance to your fingers and you brought it up to your mouth, sucking your fingers clean while keeping your eyes trained on Yoongi. 

For just that one moment, you felt as though you were the one in charge. As though you were the one making him sit there and not touch you while you touched yourself. It could have been the look of pure admiration and desperation on his face, the way he licked his lips as you sucked on your fingers as though he was trying to taste you as well. Either way it didn’t last long. ‘Look how wet you are, just for me. I haven’t even had to touch you yet and you’re dripping.’ You could feel heat rush to your cheeks and into your core, arousal and embarrassment were two emotions you never thought would go well together but there you were. ‘Touch your pu- my pussy.’ He didn’t have to ask twice, his choice of words making your head spin with want for him. In that moment, with him sitting across from you making no attempt to move, your pussy did belong to him. Your entire being belonged to him. 

Your fingers reached down to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in the way you always did when you were on your own and the feeling of finally having some kind of stimulation made you throw your head back with a loud moan of satisfaction. ‘Keep looking at me.’ Yoongi snapped and your head shot back up to him as you found a comfortable rhythm that was already making the knot in the pit of your stomach feel tight. Oh god, you were going to end up cumming alone in bed while your date sat on a chair watching you and the embarrassment itself somehow was pushing you even closer to the edge. 

Through lust-blurred vision, you were able to focus on Yoongi enough to see that he was palming himself through his suit trousers; other hand gripping onto the chair arm as he kept his gaze locked on your pussy. His low growls of pleasure were almost too much for you as you pushed one finger inside yourself followed by another. ‘Don’t cum before I say so.’ Yoongi demanded, his hands now reaching into his trousers to pull out his cock; red and leaking at the tip. 

The sight itself was enough to almost make you cum so you slowed down your movements to stave off the inevitable. Though even slowed down, it wasn’t enough to pull yourself away from the edge. Not when you were watching him languidly stroke his cock in time with your fingers pushing into yourself, his hips gently thrusting up into his hand each time. ‘Yoongi, I don’t think I-’

‘Don’t you dare fucking cum before I say so.’ There was a harshness to his voice that you hadn’t yet heard tonight, a tone that really made you think twice about disobeying him but also made you rub your clit faster because it was so damn sexy to hear him talk to you like that. He let out a groan, loud and low as he got lost in the pleasure of his own hand and you watched as he threw his head back, a small droplet of sweat dripping down his neck as his chest rose and fell rapidly. It was too much, you were almost at the point of no return. ‘Don’t fucking-’

Too late. ‘I-I can’t, I’m cumming. I’m sorry.’ The words ‘I’m sorry’ repeated under your breath like a prayer as your orgasm washed over you. An overpowering feeling that made your vision go blank and you felt as though you were floating, no sounds except the low moans from Yoongi as he stroked himself across from you. When you came back, you were still muttering ‘I’m sorry’ through breaths even though you weren’t even slightly sorry. That was the single best orgasm of your life. 

Before you even had a chance to re-familiarise yourself with the room, to check if Yoongi had also let go, he was hovering over you. He’d lost his jacket but the rest of his clothes were very much still on his body as he gently kissed your lips. The feeling of finally being able to touch him after so long made you moan, your hands naturally going to tangle in his hair as his tongue pushed into your mouth and he pushed his hips into yours. His trousers were still on but pushed down slightly, just how they were when he was touching himself opposite you so you could feel the skin of his hard cock pressed against your lower stomach. He hadn’t cum at the same time as you and the knowledge made your body automatically start preparing for round two. 

Yoongi began peppering soft kisses all over your face, nibbling his way down to your neck, focusing on certain areas in particular with sucking motions before moving on to this next. This was bliss. The softness of his touch after the way he had treated you before. Just what you needed after your orgasm, though the guilt of not doing as he asked was still nagging at the back of your mind. He clearly didn’t mind too much though. ‘Was that nice baby?’ He asked softly before his mouth settled on your breast, sucking and nibbling on the skin before focusing on the nipple. You nodded your head with a hum of agreement at his words, sighing happily as his mouth worked your other breast with just as much skill. 

And then suddenly his mouth wasn’t on you anymore, you opened your eyes and his eyes were dark again, filled with even more lust than before if that was even possible. He sat up straight before speaking and it took all your effort to keep your eyes fixed on his when you wanted more than anything to stare at his thick cock sticking out from the waistband of his trousers. You wanted him inside you so bad. ��You were doing so well but you didn’t do what I asked. You ruined my fun.’ Yoongi spoke in a soft, yet condescending tone before his hand came down unexpectedly to slap at your still sensitive pussy. Just one slap was enough to make you yelp and close your legs to which he chuckled darkly, pushing them open again with such force you had to bite back a moan. 

You watched with an open mouth as he slowly moved down the bed, positioning his head between your legs before looking up at you as he kissed at your inner thigh. A small tut of disapproval fell from his lips. ‘Cumming like that at just the sight of my cock and now look at you. Already desperate for more, aren’t you?’ Yoongi asked and you nodded with a whimper at his words. ‘Beg me. Beg me to eat your cunt like a whore.’ You felt your cheeks heat up with shame at his request but that didn’t stop you. If anything it spurred you on - you made a mental note to look further into this new-found kink. 

‘P-please Yoongi, please make me cum again. I n-need to feel your mouth on my pussy, I j-just need you to touch me. Please, I need to-’ Your words were cut off by your own loud moan as his mouth attacked your pussy with no warning. His mouth circled your entrance gathering up your juices from your previous orgasm as his fingers worked on your clit, a soft yet fast pace that made your legs shake and your head spin. It didn’t take much to work you up to your second orgasm, your whole body alight with sensitivity from both the events of the night and the aftershock of the last orgasm. You could feel the knot tightening again and your body began to tense. This was it, just one more little- and then nothing. 

You whined loudly in frustration as all at once, Yoongi moved both his hands and his mouth away from you. You felt as though you could scream as you tried to push your thighs together, knowing even the slightest friction could push you over the edge. But Yoongi held your legs open firmly until you came down from the edge. He was smirking at you, shaking his head slowly as he let go of your legs and stood up from the bed. Finally, he pushed his trousers down, cock springing free and making part of his white shirt translucent with the precum leaking from the tip. 

‘Bad girls don’t get to cum twice.’ Yoongi stated matter of factly as he stepped towards you, grabbing your hair and pulling you to sit upright. You were looking up at him with pleading eyes, apologising as best you could without actually saying anything. ‘Look at me like a desperate slut all you want, you ruined my fun so I am going to ruin yours. Now on your knees and open wide.’ He speaks slowly and you know to do as he says, his mouth opening slightly in demonstration for what he wants you to do. 

Yoongi didn’t give much warning before he pushed his cock into your mouth, his hands still laced in your hair as he slowly moved your head onto him. You relaxed your throat as he kept going, coughing slightly around his length because while you’d deep-throated before, you hadn’t had a cock this wide all the way back there. Your eyes watered at the feeling of his cock stretching out your throat and as you looked up at him, teary eyed and obviously an absolute wreck, you felt him twitch in your mouth at the sight.

‘Such a beautiful whore, taking my cock down your throat so good.’ You felt warmth in your body at his words, pride oozing out of you, humming with satisfaction around him that made him growl animalistically in pleasure. With that he began to pump his cock between your lips, each time hitting the back of your throat to the point you were almost choking but he held your head in place. The noises he made were all worth it, you’d never heard him so primal - chasing after his orgasm without any other care in the world. He was using you and your mouth and you didn’t care. Not in the slightest. 

And then his cock was buried deep in your throat again, your nose pressed against the fabric of his white shirt and your face now wet with tears. You weren’t crying, just a natural reflex to the back of your throat being hit repeatedly. Yoongi held you there, his cock bottomed out in your mouth as he smiled down at you. His left hand stroked your cheek lovingly while the other lightly slapped your cheek, making you moan in shock and he hissed through his teeth at the pleasure. Suddenly, he was using the free hand to hold your nose and it was a little impossible to breathe with that and his cock blocking your airways. You’d told him when you first started dating that one of your kinks was light breath-play but you’d never imagined it like this. He was fucking perfect; everything he did, even now when you’re lightheaded from being unable to breathe around him, he was softly stroking your face as though were the most delicate thing in the world and you had never felt more cherished in your life. ‘Does it feel good to choke on my cock?’ He asked gently and you hummed softly, eyes fluttering closed. He moaned as he let go of your nose, pulling out of your mouth just long enough for you to get your breath back before he resumed his regular fucking of your mouth, his movements becoming more erratic and his breathing became heavier. 

Yoongi held your head in place as he groaned loudly, his cock hit the back of your throat with final thrust and you had to fight back a cough as your throat was coated with his warm sticky juices. He pulled out of your mouth slowly, painting your lips with the cum left leaking out of his tip almost as one final display of humiliation before his gaze softened. You licked your lips slowly, making sure to take in every last drop of his cum and honestly hoping to keep the mood going so you could get some form of relief from your aching pussy. ‘My god, you’re so fucking gorgeous babe.’ He breathed and his voice was normal, laced with tiredness but no longer deep and slurred with lust. He was done. 

You watched with dismay as he undid his shirt and tie, lazily dropping them to the floor before he let himself fall onto the bed beside you, pulling you back down to lay with him. He placed tired kisses along your collarbone for a while, muttering words of praise that still made your heart flutter not even in the heat of the moment. ‘Yoongi?’ You asked him once his kisses had died down and his breathing was slow and heavy beside you. He hummed sleepily in acknowledgement. ‘Am I allowed to cum yet?’

Despite his half-asleep state, Yoongi still managed a little laugh. ‘Maybe tomorrow.’ He muttered, snuggling closer to you, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as he buried his face in your neck. ‘Bad girls don’t get to cum twice.’

[dclsbaby]

mykonos-crossed lovers (part ii) 🦋

🎶 playlist for part ii

prologue

part i

part iii

part iv

Summary: When you drunkenly book a girls trip to a tropical Greek island to help mend your broken heart, you would never for a second think it will take you exactly to where he is. Him. A tale of the right person at the wrong time, an overused cliché made into plots of movies you never thought would live through in your reality. Two people, still madly in love with each other, hearts still broken, suppressed by the alcohol and distractions consumed on this trip. Will they let their egos get in the way, protect what’s left of their already broken hearts, or will let their hearts speak?

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: angst angst and more angst

Author’s Note: part 2 is finally out! thank you so much for the continued love on MCL, i can't accurately put into words how much it means to me seeing all the positive responses! i hope i haven't upset you too much on last chapter’s cliffhanger, and if so, i hope this one makes up for it a little bit 🤍 please let me know what you think! xx

Gif:

***

***

***

“It’s funny, I’ve flown out to this island to forget you, yet here you are. I can’t ever get away from you can I?” Dom asks, rather rhetorically. Shocked, you turn your head and see your ex standing in front of you, in Mykonos, of all places. You cringed at his honesty, but you can’t say you didn’t escape to the warmer climates for the same reason. “Hi, Dom,” you smile at him. “The boys are here?” you ignore his initial remark. “Yeah, Mase, Davo, and Ben are sat there,” he gestures to a table close by yours. “Luke’s flying out tomorrow”, he says. “So the full team,” you comment. “It seems you’re in for quite a holiday then,” you add.

He walks ahead to stand next to you, his toned arms resting on the white border, dangerously close to yours and he takes in the view you’ve been absorbing. Silence fills the space between you two. A little to quiet for both of your likings, you could’ve sworn you heard your heart beat out of your chest. You decide to break the silence.

“So, how’ve you been?” you asked, voice a little shaky, unsure if you even wanted to know. You looked up at Dom, and caught him sniggering at the question. “Never better,” he raises his eyebrows. “Got my call-up, ball finding the back of the net week in week out, all’s well. You?” he shifts his body to look at you. “Well,” you pause to face him. “I’m on a tropical island with my girls, away from work and grey British skies, so I’m enjoying it,” you replied.

“British Vogue is it?” he asks. You landed the job a couple of months after your breakup. It was the job you needed to make a life out of yourself, to have a career you loved. It was a job you left him for. So, to say that you were good at it was an understatement. If you had to endure the pain of a devastating heartbreak for your career, it had to mean everything to you. And it was. It had been your dream job for as long as you could remember, you have always loved fashion, and this love was complemented when you began dating your ex who has an eccentric fashion sense, always straying away from the mainstream mediocrity, which somehow, he always pulls off. It’s a gift.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”, you were curious. “Mum’s told me about it, she’s proud of you, by the way,” he stops to look at you. “Sounds like a big deal,” he says as he lets out a small smile. It’s the first time he’s ever shown some warmth since the conversation started. You smile back at him and nodded. “It’s been my dream since forever, if you remember,” you look up at him. “And that’s lovely from your mum, do let her know that I miss her,” your heart warms thought of his mum. “Of course you do, you two would gang up on me whenever she’s around,” Dom chuckles. “Only because we both know how obnoxious you could be,” you joke. “Obnoxious enough for you to break my heart I see,” he jokes as he smiles at you sadly. “I d-didn’t mean it like that,” you feel terrible. “I know, I was messing with you,” he lied. A part of him wants you to know that his heart is still broken.

Two people, former lovers, with so much shared memories, once each other’s worlds, reunite in unexpected circumstances.

“I miss you, you know,” Dom says. Your head turns to face him as you try to catch a look of his eyes that are looking down on his fingers. Standing at 6’2, you had to crane your neck to properly look at him. A painfully gorgeous man, his green-hazel eyes still shine so bright despite the evening sky, lips so full waiting to be touched, his curly locks tied up in a bun only to accentuate his perfectly sculpted jaws. He is so beautiful, the pain so visceral, so intense.

***flashback***

“It’s not fair,” your best friend said. “You two would make the most gorgeous babies,” you and Dom chuckled at her comment. “When they’ve got a mother with a face like this I’d imagine it to be difficult to not produce beautiful babies,” Dom says as he cups your face and plants a kiss on your forehead. “You did not just say ‘produce’!” you move away from him, jokingly made a disgusted face and laughed at his choice of words.

Later that night as you two were tucked in bed, you drift off into a daydream which caught Dom’s attention. “What are you thinking of in that little head of yours babe?” he asked. You softly smile at him. “You really think we’d have babies?” you asked as you look at him. “What do you mean?” he asks, shifting his body so it’s resting on his side, with his knuckles supporting his head up. “I mean, is this where we are headed?”, you clarified. Dom runs his fingers through your hair. “I absolutely wouldn’t mind having babies with you,” he pauses as he moves closer to you. “I want no one else more than you, to be the mother of my children, my partner through it all,” he looks at you with loving eyes. “You mean it?” you asked, a little surprised at his honesty. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” he says as he pulls your body closer to his.

***

Dreams of starting a family with who you thought was the love of your life quickly shatter as you realise where you were; stood in front of him, both with hearts that need mending.

“Don’t do this,” you quietly say as you stare into his eyes. “What? It’s true,” he shrugs. “I miss you and I thought you should know. You should know how much you’re hurting me by not being with me,” Dom confesses. The alcohol has definitely kicked in, Dom thought to himself. Liquid courage got him pouring out the subconscious thoughts he’d never unlock without a little help. “Dom, please. You don’t mean it, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” you close your eyes for a second. “You’ve had a lot to drink, you should go be with the guys,” you say as you take your arms off the wall. “Come, I’ll take you back,” you say as you lightly push his elbow to lead the way.

“What more do I have to do to show you that I am still in love with you? Fuck’s sake,” he says as he mutters the last two words. He quickly turns around to face you, shocking you in the process as you drop your arm. “I don’t know, Dom, maybe not have tabloids put pictures of you and different girls on its covers I’d assume?” you sarcastically said, referencing to the covers you have seen of him from the week before.

Dom cringed at your comment and shakes his head. “You seriously can’t believe what those tabloids say-they blow things out of proportion!” he says as he flails his arm out of frustration. “And did you expect me not to see other people? What was I supposed to do, sit and mope around, waiting for you to come back to me? Please, do enlighten me!” he encourages. “Tell me how I can get over you because I am desperate to get you out of my fucking head,” he rants angrily, loud enough to get the attention of several guests.

He pauses to catch his breath. Before opening his mouth again to spill his suppressed thoughts.

“You were my heart, my soul, my whole fucking body—my entire life revolved around you!” he yelled, not as loud, but his frustration was emphasised as he stresses every syllable. Every bit of pride he held onto dissipates, showing his true feelings that still held onto you.

Offended, you retaliated. “You act as if I didn’t do the same for you! But I’m not stood here telling you how much I’ve missed you after I’ve fucked about with random guys!” you replied, matching his volume.

“I’ve never fucked anyone since you, so don’t ever fucking accuse me of that,” he says in disgust. “And you have no right to tell me how I should cope, when you left me! You were the one who left!”, he points at you repeatedly. “You left me with nothing,” he says nearly out of breath, and drops his arms to his sides.

“It surely didn’t seem like it when you go through girls like they’re some kind of pitstop!” you angrily responded. “I was fucking hurt! You fucking broke me! I was sad and desperate, give me a fucking break!” he says as he brings his hands to his forehead. “And don’t act so innocent,” he spits out. You give him a confused face, unsure as to what he meant. “I know you’ve been out with him,” he emphasises. “Yeah, our friends talk,” he states the obvious.

You knew who he was talking about. The friend he fell out with, another footballer friend. Things got too competitive, the words exchanged at the end of a match too harsh to redeem with a handshake. The same friend who could’ve sworn he chatted you up first, but you and Dom’s connection was too strong to deny. Of course, it was nothing like he insinuated. His friend, or, former friend, rather, had dipped his toes into the world of fashion, which caught the attention of your seniors. They assigned you to an interview with him, knowing your connections in the sporting industry and knowledge of it, as you dated a footballer after all. “Th-that was nothing,” you shake your head in disbelief, shocked at what you’re being accused of. “Bullshit,” he curses. He still remembers the day he saw you two on the news. Dominic Calvert-Lewin’s Ex Moves On with His England Teammate?, the headline says. Beneath it were pictures of his former friend sitting opposite you, as you two enjoy each other’s company at his favourite breakfast place in London. It is your favourite too. He recalls trying to ignore the jealousy, he tried to stop reading gossip sites that had the tendency to over-exaggerate, but he couldn’t. It made him angry, so angry, he threw his phone across the room and smashed it into a wall, its screen shattering. Sick and nauseous, he ran to the bathroom and dunk his head into a toilet bowl, dispensing the contents of that day’s breakfast. The effect you had on him was still potent and undying.

Your conversation was interrupted when you feel a hand wrap its fingers around the back of your arm, surprising you as you jump a little. “Hi, hun, everything okay?”, asked two of your friends, who spotted you as they were making their way to the bathroom. You nodded and gave them a smile, “I’m okay,” you whispered. They were beyond shocked to have seen Dom, but they knew better than to mention the obvious. “Give us a shout if you need anything,” your other friend says softly. You nodded. Your friends waved at Dom, then walked to where they were headed, which Dom did the same before you two returned to your conversation.

You take a deep breath before speaking. “You know I never meant to hurt you, Dom,” you look at him with sad eyes. “You know why I had to end things with you, I honestly thought you understood,” you say as you try your best to blink the tears away. “No, I never understood, and I still fucking don’t,” he says as his large hand grips the surface of the wall.

“None of this makes any sense to me! I understand that it is important for you to prioritise your career, be in control of your life or whatever it was you said,” he throws a hand up. “But I will never understand why you had to sacrifice me in the process, of all things,” he replies with absolute honesty. “So, what? You expect me to drop every possibility of starting a career instead, and invest all my time and energy in you?” you ask in disbelief. “That’s not fair, Dom!” you argue.

Dom throws his head back out of frustration as you cross your arms. “I would’ve fully supported you every step of the way, given you the space you needed, anything!” he responds. “But instead you left, and took my entire life with you,” he argues back, panting as he tried to catch his breath. “You didn’t have to leave,” he quietly says.

You two look at each other in silence, both feeling the pain the other endured. The pain heavy, overwhelming, a sinking feeling.

“I wasn’t trying to compromise you,” you say softly. “I had felt so detached from myself and made you the centre of my life and I was fucking terrified, Dom,” you try to justify yourself. “Had you left me at any point, I wouldn’t have survived it,” you sigh.

“Had I left you? How could you ever assume that? You think I am strong enough to be apart from you for even just a day? For fuck’s sake,” he curses as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose out of frustration.

“I never said you would, I said if you did,” you clarify.

“So, you’re saying you left me purely due to a hypothetical scenario? Come fucking on. Don’t you fucking get it?,” he pauses. “You left me because you were afraid you couldn’t live without me, when that was never the case to begin with. If anything, it was the other way around,” he mutters the last sentence, just enough for you to hear.

“What?”, you asked, looking up at him.

“If one of us were to be too attached to the other person, it would be me. I’m not even fucking ashamed to admit that. I’m just pissed you assumed I could ever leave you. And that you broke my heart,” he reveals, a little too much for his liking but he didn’t care. You had to know.

“I-I never knew you were this upset,” you reply, still trying to process what he just said. “Clearly,” Dom says with sarcasm. “All you do is assume,” he comments. “That’s not fair,” you respond. “None of this is,” he quickly says. “I’m sorry I hurt you, I hope you know I would never intentionally do anything to make you feel that way,” you try to assure him. “Yeah okay,” he looks away.

Silence fills the room once again. What used to only be comfortable silence between you two turned into awkward, deafening silence. Silence between two people still in love with one another, both stubborn, both hotheaded, both their egos in the way.

You hated this. You wanted out. Your heart could no longer handle the different coexisting emotions, the sadness, anger, exasperation, confusion, equally intense, equally felt. It was all too much.

“I-I think I’m just going to go, it’s been lovely to see you, I'm sorry again Dom, truly. Have a great-“, “You’re fucking joking,” he cuts you off and shakes his head. You sigh, surprised at this interruption. “What now, Dom?” you asked, a little agitated.

“You’re leaving? After I’ve poured my heart out to you? Fucking pathetic that,” he said angrily. “What else was I supposed to say, Dom! I told you I was sorry, I told you I didn’t mean to hurt you! What more do you want?”, you responded with aggravation.

“YOU! I want you! How could you be so dense? Honestly, fuck this—you broke my fucking heart and I am not going to let you walk away from me again,” he gestures angrily. “This time I’m leaving you, have a great fucking night,” he says as he storms off, taking half of your heart with him.

At that moment, it felt as though every effort you had put into moving on, all your self-care nights, girls night outs, mental health days, music playlists of happy songs, immersing yourself in work, suddenly meant nothing. All your efforts were countered, destroyed after seeing him again for the first time in months. All you could do was stand there and watch him leave you standing alone, under the blue Mykonos sky with the most breathtaking view of the island, whilst heartbroken once again. The perfect irony.

You were left in shock. You could see Dom walking through the crowd where everybody was partying from your peripheral vision. It took him way too quickly for your liking to wrap his arms around a certain blonde-haired girl in a blue dress you recognised from tabloid pictures. You feel a sharp pain in your chest from a sight you never wanted to see. You knew you had no right to feel this way since you were the one who left, but it hurt you nonetheless.

Two things could’ve come out of this scenario. You could a) suck it up, take three straight tequila shots and party the night away with your girls, who are increasingly growing concerned about your whereabouts, or b) you could call it a night and figure your heart out.

After moments of deliberation, you chose the latter option. The intense conversation you had with Dom was too emotionally draining for you to continue on. Seeing your ex on the exact trip you booked with your girls to remedy your heartache, listening to him tell you how much you’ve broken his heart, how he wants you, but proceed to wrap his arms around another girl minutes after, all in one night... you could not bear it all. You quietly made a swift exit and made sure to text your girls’ group chat as you’re walking.

Babes, I’m heading back to the villa. Rough night. Details tomorrow. Will leave some paracetamol on the counter. Be safe and have a blast! Love you. X

You took the furthest route towards the exit door away from the party scene, not giving your friends a chance to even stop you. You wrap your arms around your body, holding yourself together as your heart crumbles. The only affection you could seek from is yourself. The pain of growth slowly paying off, as you manage to at least leave the scene in one piece.

However, despite extra efforts to not get noticed, Dom caught you slipping out of the club.

You stood outside the breezy Mykonos night and waited for your taxi to come. What just happened? You thought to yourself. You were a bit tipsy from the drinks, your tired body making you feel a little delirious. It seemed like it was all a dream, a nightmare perhaps, but it isn’t. That actually happened. You inhale the fresh air, and pace your breathing to calm your nerves. The background music spilling from the narrow gaps of the doors slowly fade as you close your eyes and focus on your peace.

Peaceful silence suddenly interrupted by a loud sound of doors bursting open.

What the fuck was that? you thought to yourself as you turn your head towards the loud noise. Your heart nearly stopped when you saw Dom clumsily stumble through the door. “What are you doing?” you asked, completely taken aback.  “I saw you walk out,” he says out of breath. “And I know you like to go on walks to clear your head. I was making sure you weren’t, this isn’t the place where you could do that safely,” he continued.  “I know, I’m waiting for a taxi,” you say quietly.  Dom nodded. “Okay,” he looks away. “Be safe,” he says as he looks at you one last time. You look at him with a sad smile and nod.

As Dom retreats back into the club, he had to hold his chest, clutching where his heart is to contain the pain of seeing you force a smile at him, it was too intense, he couldn’t bear it. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and tell you again how in love with you he is, but he knows his heart can’t take another heartache.

So Dom does what he does best, fake a smile, join his friends, and power through the night despite the building anxiety of being away from you. He feels sick to his stomach and would love nothing more than to call it a night. He goes on to reject every girl who threw themselves at him left and right, which Mason took notice of.

“Mate you okay? You don’t seem like yourself,” asks Mason. “(Y/N). She’s here. Well, she was,” Dom says. “Here? In Mykonos?”, Mason asks in disbelief. Dom nods his head. “Shit. What happened?” asked his concerned friend. “Told her she broke my heart. I lost my head. Told her I want her, then walked away,” muttered Dom as he looks down to play with his fingers. “Mate, I mean, do you still want her? Even after everything you went through?” Mason asks carefully, cautious to push any buttons.

Dom takes a deep breath.

“There is nothing in this life I want more than her,” he spills, looking at his friend dead in the eye.

“You know what you have to do, Dom.” Mason says.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Sheltered By Memories

Summary: The night after the Promised Day, there’s a thunderstorm. 

Ed hates thunderstorms. 

He can’t exactly wake Al to keep him company through it, not when he’s only just able to sleep again.

But Hohenheim’s awake, and as the weather rages outside, Ed and his father begin to tentatively rebuild the bridge between them, starting with memories of a similar storm many years ago. 

Rated: G

Sheltered by Memories

One would have expected the night after an event as momentous as the Promised Day to be clear and still, with the stars shining brightly and a big full moon. Ed knows that he can’t hope for a full moon since it was an eclipse today, but he can still be utterly furious that he’s woken up in the middle of the night to find that it’s hammering down with rain and howling a gale, with lightning flashing across the sky every five seconds and thunder rolling loud enough to wake the dead.

Ed curls up, pulling the thin hospital blanket over this head in a futile attempt to block out the storm. Across the room, Al is sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by the weather outside. Ed feels a pang of something he can’t quite define. Al’s never been bothered by thunderstorms. Even when they were little kids, Al was always at ease with the weather, never flinching or cringing at the bangs and crashes and flashes. 

Al never normally sleeps through storms, though. Even back before the armour, he would always stay awake with Ed if there was a storm.

Ed can’t wake him now though. Not when he’s been unable to sleep for so long and now he finally can.

“Edward?”

Ed peers out of the blankets and as the next flash of lightning plunges the room into brightness again, he sees Hohenheim sitting in the chair at the foot of Al’s bed. 

“Hohenheim? How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time, you just weren’t awake.”

“Oh.” Ed’s not exactly surprised. After the adrenaline of the final battle with Father and that final trip to the Gate to get Al back had worn off, he’d all but collapsed. He has a vague memory of Hohenheim catching him before he hit the ground, and the haziness of waking up in this bed a few times before the thunder started and woke him properly. He thinks he can be forgiven for not paying attention. 

Hohenheim gets up and comes across to perch on the edge of Ed’s bed. 

“Your mother hated storms too,” he says. “I remember the big storm of ‘02. Al slept right through it and the rest of us had a terrible night.”

It’s jarring to hear Hohenheim talk about events from Ed’s childhood that Ed himself can’t remember. He missed so much of their lives that it’s easy to think that he wasn’t paying any attention to any of it, and easy to forget that he was there until Ed was five, however much he might have stayed in the background. 

That said, now that he’s mentioned it, Ed does have a vague memory of being three years old on a night like this one, and tiptoeing into his parents’ bedroom because the light was on. He remembers Mom curled up tight against Dad (because he was still Dad back then, he hadn’t left yet and lost the right to that name), her fists pulling his undershirt out of shape and mangling it more with every flash of lightning. He remembers crawling into bed with them and Dad pulling him in close, one arm around Ed and one around Mom, keeping both of them safe from the storm. 

“I forgot Mom was scared of lightning.” He feels bad about it. How could he have forgotten something like that? He tries to reason with himself - it’s been ten years since she died, he was so young, Resembool so rarely gets thunderstorms like this one - but he still feels a gnawing guilt at having forgotten something about Mom.

“It’s all right. Trisha was always so brave and strong. It’s hard to believe she was ever scared of anything.”

The lightning flashes again, illuminating Hohenheim’s face. He’s off in the middle distance, deep in memories of Mom, but he’s there, and against all the odds, Ed feels safe. His heart is still leaping to his mouth with every roiling rumble of thunder, but he’s not alone, and Hohenheim doesn’t mock his fear. 

Strange. Just as he can’t really believe Mom was ever scared of anything, he can’t really imagine Hohenheim being scared of anything either. Maybe it’s because he was always so distant, always concentrating on something else. The only emotion Ed can remember on him from his childhood is frowning.

“What are you scared of?” he asks presently. 

Hohenheim doesn’t answer for a long time.

“My worst fear came true,” he says eventually. “So I don’t think I’m scared of anything now. I lost you and Al and your mother. I think that was always what I was most scared of.”

There’s a kind of catharsis in hearing him admit that. He and Ed and Al are all in the same room and all three of them are alive and comparatively well, but he still admits that he’s lost them, that he messed up royally when he left. Even though Ed now understands why he did it and why he didn’t really have another choice, that he would definitely have lost them all if he hadn’t done anything, it still soothes the sting of it all. 

“Did Mom know?” Ed asks. “About the souls, and Father, and the Promised Day and everything?”

Hohenheim nods. “Not all of it. She knew about the souls. I didn’t think it was entirely courteous to start a relationship without her knowing about the several thousand voices in my head. She knew I was immortal. That’s why we made that promise; that I’d find a way to get back to normal and she’d outlive me. She knew about Homunculus, because I’d told her the story of how I got this way. I didn’t tell her about the Promised Day and why I had to leave. She knew I had to do something that only I could do, but I didn’t want to worry her with the scope of it.”

“She always believed you were coming back. Even right at the end.”

“I always was coming back.” The lightning flashes, and Hohenheim’s eyes look old, every one of those four hundred odd years showing in his expression. “I didn’t realise I would be gone for so long, but I was always going to come back. I dared to hope that once it was all over, we could have a normal life and not need to worry about anything again.”

Outside, the storm continues to rage, and Hohenheim continues to watch it calmly, just taking it in.

“I think it’s fitting that it’s storming tonight,” he says. “Washing away the old, getting rid of it all in one big rumbling explosion. Nature’s last act of violence to drown out the violence of the old world and make way for something new and peaceful. There’s always sun after a storm.”

Ed huffs, pulling the blankets up again. “There’d better be.”

Hohenheim smiles. “There will be.”

Ed closes his eyes, the bright flashes and sudden cracks of thunder no longer making him shiver. Even as he’s drifting off, he can feel that Hohenheim’s still sitting on the bed, still watching the storm. 

Still there. 

X

The sky is bright blue and sunny without a cloud in it when Ed wakes up. The birds are singing and the dissonance from the previous night is almost mocking. Still, the storm is over, and the rest of their lives can now begin in calmness, just as Hohenheim said last night. 

Ed sits up, looking around. Al is still asleep, and Hohenheim is nowhere to be found, but Izumi is sitting in the chair. She gives him a tired smile. 

“Hey Ed.”

“Hi, Teacher. Where’d Hohenheim go?”

“The men’s room. And I think he’s probably searching for coffee as well.”

“Oh.” It’s such a mundane explanation for his absence and Ed has no idea why he was expecting something more weird and wonderful other than the fact his father seems to be a magnet for the weird and wonderful.

Ed is prevented from any further contemplation by the sound of Al yawning from the other bed. He scrunches his face up before he opens his eyes, and Ed’s missed that goofy expression so much. 

“Hey. Welcome back.”

“Hey.” Al looks over at Ed, and then at Izumi. “Hi Teacher.”

“Hey Al.”

“Was there a storm last night? I think I remember hearing thunder at one point.”

Ed laughs. “Yeah, it was ridiculous. I’m amazed you slept through it. Guess you really needed a nap, huh.”

“Yeah. I hadn’t realised how much I enjoy sleeping.” Al stretches out his thin arms and looks over at Ed again. “You could have woken me. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Ed shakes his head. “I think the nurses would probably have minded. You need all the sleep you can get to get your strength back. I was ok. Da-- Hohenheim was here.”

Al quirks an eyebrow at the slip but doesn’t say anything, and it’s another expression that Ed’s missed. He’s always known when Al’s making that face, even in the armour, there’s something in his silence that Ed knows equates to that little quirk, but at the same time, it’s so good to finally see it again. 

There’s a knock on the door and Sig and Hohenheim come in bearing coffee, handing off a mug each to Izumi and Ed. 

Hohenheim smiles on seeing Al awake. 

“Good morning Al. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thanks. Honestly just any sleep is amazing right now.”

“We did check with the nurses but no coffee for Al,” Sig adds. “It’s good to see you awake, kid.” 

“That’s ok.” Al waves the arm with the IV line in. “Probably for the best right now.”

Ed just sits quietly, sipping his coffee, watching them all. It’s going to be strange now; his life has been completely turned on its head, but he knows that no matter what, he’s got Al to see him through it, and it seems like Hohenheim’s going to stick around. Maybe before Ed wouldn’t have wanted him to; they’ve got this far without him, they don’t need him going forward. But this is a time for new beginnings, and maybe a time for his feelings finally beginning to thaw, now that he knows Hohenheim takes that responsibility that has so long lain on Ed’s shoulders, now that he’s taking back that burden that has been Ed’s to bear alone for so long. 

It doesn’t undo everything that’s already been done and suffered; those memories will always be there and will always be painful. 

But it’s a start, and that’s all they need.

[haikyuuwaifu]

Selfish

Kuroo x Reader x Kenma

MASTERLIST

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Angst, swearing, implied sexual acts

MASTERLIST

PART IV:

The second time:

Third year was a time of stress, college, and change. Kuroo knew from the time he was in his third year of middle school, that he wanted to leave Japan for college. He had never been anywhere  outside of his home country. As laid back as he was, he busted his ass to keep up with his grades. Sure, he partied and had a good time; but he ensured he did well so he could apply to schools like Yale and Harvard. His hope was to get accepted into Harvard. He had heard from former Nekoma graduates that parties in America were wild and he wanted in. Harvard offered a great business program so he figured he’d kill two birds with one stone. You had no plans to leave Japan. As much as you liked the idea of going with Tetsu across the world, it wasn’t your dream. Aside from the New Years incident the two of you hadn’t had another issue. He stopped going to parties for the rest of that year and you two spent all your free time together or with Kenma. The summer before your third year Kuroo was made captain of the Volleyball club and suddenly all the parties started sprouting up again. As uncomfortable as it made you; you trusted him. He stopped inviting you out to parties and just went out on his own. The start of third year found you building time tables and study material so you could do well and get accepted into Miyagi. Instead of spending time with Tetsu at lunch, you were huddled in the library. After school you were usually at the internet cafe or occupying Kenma’s floor as he gamed. While you were busting your ass Kuroo was living the high life. School had never been difficult for him, so he never really had to try. He spent his lunches talking to the cheerleaders and the other sports captains. He would make sure to text you throughout the day, but more often than not if you didn’t text first; he wouldn’t bother. After practice he would go out with the girls of the volleyball team or the cheer squad. It depended on who got to him first. In his mind, what he was doing was harmless; you were his best girl, but you were never his actual girlfriend. Too bad no one thought to inform you of that fact.

As third year carried on the two of you spent less and less time together. When entrance exams came around you spent an entire week holed up in your room preparing. Kuroo spent the whole week in a different girls bedroom every night. 

After the New Years incident the year prior, things were awkward between you and Tetsu. Kenma being caught in the middle asked you what happened. When you explained what happened Kenma only shook his head and carried on with the game he was playing. He didn’t tell you, but that one moment solidified the fact that he just didn’t want anything to do with Kuroo anymore. He only dealt with him during practice and if he had to deal with him on the weekends it was solely because you were there. Any other time he pretended he was busy or ignored any form of contact Kuroo attempted.

While Kuroo decided to party and sleep his way through third year; Kenma was the one who made sure you were eating enough. He learned how to cook and made an extra bento for you every day. He made sure you weren’t overworking yourself and dragged you out of the library after he finds out you’d been sitting in there for hours. Sundays were usually days where you and Kuroo would go out and do something, but with studying and exams; you stayed in and he was hungover. Kenma ended up shutting his games off on Sundays and dragging you all over Tokyo. As much as he hated going out and dealing with people, he didn’t mind going out with you. In the time that he had come to know you, he had grown to see you as someone more than the giver Kuroo liked to take advantage of. 

Kuroo, though selfish, wasn’t an oblivious idiot. He knew deep down that if Kenma could he would tell you about what he had been doing. As aloof as Kenma seemed, he had always been a perceptive child. And he knew that Kenma had grown to respect you. Sometimes Kuroo would feel guilty about the things he had done, and the way he had treated you. But more often than not he would forget about it as quickly as the thought came. You were his best girl afterall, you’d never abandon him. He knew you didn’t have social media outside of FB. You never saw the need for it, so he made sure to keep his posts private and vague; just in case Kenma saw something he felt the need to share with you. 

Entrance exams came and went. You and Tetsu received your letters and were sitting in his bedroom waiting for the other to open it. He had no idea that you didn’t apply to any schools outside of Japan. You had no idea he only applied to Harvard. You knew what his dream was, but deep down you had hoped that what you had was enough to compromise. Ripping your letters open you both screamed as you received the best news you could possibly hope for. Clutching the letter to your chest you smiled. “I got into Miyagi Tetsu, I got into Miyagi!” He looked at you a little confused. “Miyagi?” he questioned taking the letter and reading it over. “Why would you only apply to schools in Japan?” he asked looking up at you. “I told you, Miyagi was my first choice; I want to be a teacher in the prefecture I grew up in.” You murmur softly folding your hands together. Shaking his head he scoffs. “You can be a teacher anywhere baby, and you can learn anywhere...you were supposed to come to Harvard with me.” taking your hands in his he pulls you closer. “We were supposed to go to the US together. Maybe its not too late for you to a-” cutting off his sentence you pull your hands back and shake your head. “I’m not leaving Japan Tetsu...this has been my dream since I was a child. You should be happy for me.” you declare getting up and placing the letter on your desk. “And what about my dreams? You knew I wanted to go to the US.” he demands standing and facing away from you. Touching his shoulder he shrugs away from you. “Sometimes  I wonder who puts more effort into this.”he states making his way towards the door. Opening it he waves his arm, “I need time to think, so you need to go.” You sigh softly, grabbing your bag. You whisper an apology as you make your way to the front door. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk [name] I can’t even look at you right now.” he states watching you walk out the front door.

You spent that evening mulling over all the times you and Tetsu had talked about the future. You recalled him mentioning Harvard and going to the US together. You couldn’t help but feel guilty for overriding his opinions. You had spent so little time together this year that you had forgotten. Laying in your bedroom staring at your ceiling your eyes started bristling with tears just waiting to fall. You felt so guilty for pushing him aside. For not communicating your thoughts and opinions. You loved him after all. Neither of you had ever said it, but you felt that you never had to say it. He must have known you loved him. While contemplating whether or not you were actually going to leave Miyagi your phone started ringing. It was Tetsu. You answered immediately and at first all you could hear was loud music in the background. A few seconds later you heard Tetsu talking into the phone. He was drunk and he had called you to pick him up. You spent 15 minutes trying to get a location out of him ignoring the lewd moaning in the background. Hanging up the phone you grabbed your parents car keys and threw your shoes on. Twenty minutes later you made your way to his most recent location. Weaving through the sweaty bodies you looked around trying to find his signature hairstyle. You walked up the stairs knocking on doors. You reached the last door on the left that was slightly open. 

Placing your hand on the door you push it open only to drop your keys at the sight of Kuroo, head back, mouth open. His pants are around his ankles and his hands are knotted in a strange girl's hair as she takes him into her mouth. “What the fuck Tetsu!” you screech at him. His eyes snap open, red from the alcohol he ingested before you got there. “Fuck, baby no!” he scrambles to pull his pants up as you grab your keys and make your way down the stairs. Rage and sadness fueling your feet to move to the car before letting your tears fall. He follows you stringing out half drunken apologies. “Baby, no...I’m sorry...fuck I’m sorry.” he sobs falling to his knees gripping the back of your knees as you stand in front of the drivers side door. “Fuck, I’m such a fuck up baby.” he sobs. You try to shake him off but he just grips you tighter. Sobs getting louder he pulls you closer. “Don’t leave me [name].” he begs into your thighs. “I know I’m a fuck up, but please...I can’t do this without you...I can’t have a future without you.” the crack in his voice ebbs your anger slightly. Turning you peer down at him and watch as the tears stream down his face. You sigh softly, and stroke his cheeks. “I can’t do this again Tetsu, I came because you called and that’s what I walked into?” you asked. Pushing his face into your thighs he squeezes softly. “I had too much to drink, I was upset because I want you to come to the US with me.” you stroke his hair softly as he continues to explain his reasonings. “I’m sorry I kicked you out earlier. And I’m sorry I said I didn’t support you.” He mumbles softly. “I want you to be happy, and if going to Miyagi is what makes you happy then...we can do the distance.” You pull him up and snuggle yourself into his chest. “Forgive me baby, I need you. You’re my best girl.” he smiles at you softly stroking your cheek. And with the soft smile you find yourself forgiving him once again.

@dabilove27

PART III|PART V

A/N: Angsty Angst >:]

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Nest.”

Finally guys, some fluff! Based on some comments made by @beckitty and @digitalmagpie on Compromised Earth.  I was inspired by the idea and thought it would be fun to write, and would totally make sense, so. I hope I did the idea credit.

Enjoy the fluff, and thank you all for reading.

Sunny was mad.

Sunny was also worried, but that was mostly overshadowed by just how pissed she was. Adam was being an idiot, the biggest idiot, the king of the idiots. If he kept this up any longer he was going to upgrade himself to the god of all idiots, and it seemed like it was up to her to get something done.

Adam was in a bad way.

He could be fine, she thought, if he was given the time he needed to rest and recuperate. He was exhausted, and short twenty minute naps were going to do nothing to help that exhaustion. She knew enough from Krill to know that the human body required sleep to recover from injuries, and the Steel Eye armor had practically destroyed his body. There was muscle strain, extreme inflammation, the overdose, internal damage, nerve damage, stress fractures etc. etc, and despite all that he was still answering the call of the UNSC.

The stress of his job, and his inability to say no to other people and their needs was going to kill him. He felt obligated, by his job to make sure that everything went well, he assumed because of who he was that he was in charge of protecting earth, even the entire universe if he had to. He was taking on weight that he was not obligated to take on.

Even the UNSC was well aware of how sick he was, and despite taking his help, they seemed concerned about him, and she had no doubt they would be ok if he decided to take time off to recover. There were other men and women in the universe who would be willing to take on the weight he was trying to bare.

Yet he wouldn't listen to her.

Sitting on his chair in the UNSC command room, fighting back sleep, and no ability to walk, he was running himself into the ground.

She needed to find someone who could rein him in.

And she thought she had just the idea.

She left him, though she didn’t want to and made a quick call before walking into the room and quietly whispering to some of the Admirals standing off to one side of the room during break.

“I will not be accepting no, but I thought you should be aware.”

They looked at her and nodded, “We can take it from here.”

“Thank you. I hope you understand that this isn’t a reflection on him.”

“The reflection on him has to do with the fact that he refuses to leave. Do what you have to.”

She nodded turning and walking over to where Adam was sitting slumped in his chair half asleep pale as a ghost. He had insisted the IV be removed so he wouldn't be so distracting. She had argued, he had been stubborn

She walked over putting her arms around him and hauling him to his feet. His head lifted in exhaustion bright green eyes glazed over with exhaustion,”Sunny?”

“Just relax. We are going to go get you some sun during the break.”

He was too tired to be sceptical, and just walked with her.

She could feel his feet dragging, and occasionally his legs would give out under him, but she wrapped one arm around his waist and the other arm around his chest to hold him upright until they finally made it outside to the front of the building. In comparison to the inside, where the lights were dark and the mood was darker, the day was bright and warm. The sky overhead was blue and the ground before them was lush and green. Overhead the sun was warm and bright.

An automated lawn mower was roaring in the distance filling the air with the sound of freshly cut grass.

It made sunny mouth water.

She let Adam sink onto the curb, his head in his hands and lifted her head looking this way and that for signs of life, for the people she was expecting. She heard them before she saw them, the screeching of rubber on pavement, a sound that wasn’t exactly common in a world where everything could hover.

Sunny turned her head and watched as the ancient, four door pickup roared around the corner and skidded through the parking lot. Sunny could feel the aggression spilling off the thing in waves, and when it gunned towards her, she almost worried that she was destined to be roadkill.

However, the tires came to a screeching stop just before them.

Adam lifted his exhausted head and blinked eyes focusing blearily on the front of the car, and as soon as he did, his eyes widened.

Sunny peered through the front windshield where a small, blond- hair woman in a red flannel was hunched behind the steering wheel eyes narrowed face contorted into a predatory snarl that made sunny think twice about having made that call. In the seat just next to her, a greying human male was white knuckling the crash handles.

A door was thrown open and then slammed shut.

“Mom?” 

Martha Vir stormed around the front of the ancient truck, whose engine popped and rattled as it cooled down.

The look of anger fled from her face at one moment, to one of concern as she knelt on the curb looking over her son with piercing blue eyes wild with concern. Mr. vir wobbled stiffly from the cab of the truck forced to pry his hand from the crash handle.

“Mom… what are you doing here?” Adam said in confusion as she tiled his head this way and that, pressing her hand against his forehead, grabbing his hand to examine the inflamed wounds still evident from the steel eye implantation.

It was clear by her expression that she knew exactly what had caused those scars. 

“What-did-they-do. They made you wear the suit again! I swear to the lord above I am going to kill every last-”

“Mom!” his voice was weak, “No one made me put it back on….. I…. asked them to.”

She stared at him in confusion, “What?” “I had no other choice.” His voice quivered a little though he tried to choke it down. Clear evidence that humans were more likely to drop their guard in front of a caregiver, no matter how long past.

She rested her hand on his cheek, “But why… Adam….” 

“It’s what I had to do.”

“And the drugs….”

All was silent for a moment, and he lowered his head.

The stormy expression on her face grew thunderous. 

“I’m sorry…. I couldn’t…. Take the pain.” 

Sunny was surprised to see she didn’t even look mad. Instead she hugged him holding him to her chest his head resting on her shoulder for a long moment. Jim came to sit next to them one hand resting on his son’s back.

“It’s alright, we’re here to take you home.”

He lifted his head, “Home, no, I can’t I have….”

“I don’t care what you have. You aren't in any kind of shape to be doing any kind of work.”

“But mom the burg could attack earth at any-”

“I don’t care if the burg is attacking,I don’t care who is coming. I don’t care if it’s the rapture, and Jesus is descending from the sky on a chariot of fire, you are coming home.”

“But-”

“Adam you are not the only thing standing between earth and eminent destruction, now argue with me again…. I dare you.”

Sunny had never experienced such intense eye contact in all her life. And she thought her own mother had had a mean glare. As soon as Adam made eye contact with his mother, it was over, Sunny saw the fight drain out of him and he simply nodded his head.

He glanced over at sunny, “You called them didn’t you.”

Sunny lifted her head, “I did.”

“Why?”

“Because you won’t listen to me, but I knew who you would listen to.” 

His father leaned down, and with one strong calloused hand, he helped Adam to his feet, “Come on Kid, let's get you home before your mother levels the UNSC.” He chuckled, “Thought she was going to drive the truck through the front door.” Adam snorted, too tired and weak to actually laugh.

His legs gave out before he made it to the car. His parents caught him, doing their best to hold him up.

Sunny intervened, lifting him easily off the ground and into the back of the truck, she then followed after allowing him to rest his head on her leg as he lay across the back seat.

Jim and Martha got back into the truck, Martha grudgingly allowing her husband to drive. 

After a moment she reached a hand back holding a water bottle out to adam.

“Drink, this better be done by the time we get home.”

“But-”

“Drink your water!”

He shut up, finishing the water in a few minutes. It wasn’t a second later that the water bottle clattered to the floor, and Adam was out. Sunny sat in somewhat awkward silence as they drove down the highway.

Jim glanced at her in the rear view mirror, “You alright, Sunny.”

“Yes, sir. 

“Enough leg room?”

“Yes sir, just fine, sir.”

“My name is Jim, Kid, you can use it.” 

Er, “Of course, Jim.”

After another few minutes of awkward silence, Martha turned around in her seat to look at sunny, “What happened?”

Sunny wasn’t entirely sure what she was and was not allowed to tell them, but she didn’t want to find out what would happen if she didn’t, “The Burg declared war on the GA, and then proceeded to attack the Gromm homeworld for the warp codes that would give them access to the rest of the GA. They landed on the planet and were dug in inside an energy field with a plan to attack and charge our line within a day. Adam and his advisors determined the best course of action would be to attack them first and detonate their ship’s engine. Adam made a call…. I had no idea what he was doing. Both Krill and I tried to stop him when we figured it out, but he made it clear that he would find someone else if we didn’t do it. He….. he wasn’t doing so well, but he began the battle without any drugs….. Halfway through…. Well he just couldn’t handle it. He took them, and we finished, but he overdosed. Krill saved his life, but, he just hasn’t slowed down since. I can’t get him to, no one can…. So that’s when I called you.”

She stared up at martha worried that she would be blamed for not stopping Adam.

It seemed as if it might tilt in that direction, but Jim piped up, “Thank you for taking care of him, Sunny. Adam…. He’s always been stubborn. A weird mix of stubborn and not being able to say no.”

They turned off the highway and cut through the suburbs finally pulling up to the familiar house under the unassuming blue sky.

Sunny stepped out pulling Adam with her, who only partially woke up.

She carried him to the door and into the house following Martha back to a guest bedroom,where she set his hat on the nightstand, and woke him up long enough to get him to kick off his shoes and pull off his uniform jacket.

Then and only then was he finally allowed to lay down. Sunny wasn’t sure if he was even awake for the following few minutes where, like a mother bird, the human proceeded to construct a nest out of pillows and other soft things. He had a pillow under his head, and a pillow under his legs, and if that wasn’t enough, he was then surrounded on all sides by pillows. That done, she took a moment to check the sounds left by the Steel eye armor, cleaning a few of them up and bandaging over with clean gauze. She lay a hand on his forehead checking for fever, and by extension, and infection.

He shifted in his sleep.

She then went hunting through a closet which was hoarded at least two dozen more blankets. 

She left the window open allowing the warm sunlight and cool air to breeze into the room, covering his legs with the blanket, but leaving his arms and chest exposed to the warm sunlight.

Finally done, She then ushered Sunny out of the room, leaving the door cracked slightly, where it could be seen from down the hall in the kitchen. Sunny stood awkwardly in the living room for a time her back facing the window where sunlight was beaming through onto the floor. Dust moats churned and rolled in the sunlight.

Martha sat at the table while Jim stepped outside to get some work done.

Sunny shuffled her feet awkwardly before.

“Thank you for…. Coming so quickly.”

Martha looked up at her, her bright blue human eyes cutting and cold.

“I would do anything for my kids.”

Sunny shifted her feet and looked down quietly and before realizing what she was saying, “I wish my mother had been more like you.”

There was silence.

Martha worked her jaw for a second before curiosity got the better of her, “Are…. Drev mothers not protective of their children?”

Sunny shook her head, “No…. not at all…. Just not…. Mine.”

“Oh…. I’m sorry…. What…. Happened?”

Sunny looked away and shrugged, “Oh I was a disgrace. A crippled abomination that should have been tossed into the fire at birth.”

Martha stared at her, “Don’t you think that’s a bit exaggerated.”

Sunny turned to look at her, “No… That’s what happens if you are born crippled. You are tossed into the fire.” 

Martha stared at her mouth open, “They what!.... But how…. Why… why would anyone do anything like that….. And you. You look fine.”

Sunny turned to look out the window, “My mother was a great general. She won land in all directions of the compass, but after my brother, she was never able to produce another child…. It is very important in Drev culture to be able to produce kits.” She turned to look at martha, “Drev mothers give birth near the mouths of volcanos, and if the kit doesn’t hold up to standard they are thrown into the fire for their spirits to be recycled. My mother was…. Unable to get rid of me…. I am very small. I think she hated me because I was a symbol of her weakness, and she just couldn’t handle that.”

Martha had gone very quiet staring on at Sunny in surprise and….  a hint of something else in her bright blue eyes.

“I tried for her to be the best warrior I could. But in truth, I am not talented in battle. When the Drev war came, I thought I could win her love through valor, though I should have known better by then.” She looked at Martha feeling a horrible clenching feeling rising up in her chest and stomach, “What I did to Adam…. It isn’t excused by any means, but at least now you know why I did what I did.’ She looked down at her hands, “But instead of winning my mother’s love, she blamed me for my father’s death.”

“Your father…. Died during the war?”

“Yes, he was killed by a Steel-eye soldier during the last push.” She raised a hand, “Don’t worry, my father died an honorable death in battle…. I was happy for him. Once again my mother went against our customs and turned her sights on revenge.” Sunny siged taking a seat at the table resting her hands together atop the polished surface clasped lightly together.

As she sat a sudden touch of warmth on her hand made her look up.

Martha Vir had a hand over hers and was looking at her with an expression Sunny had not seen on the human’s face before.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

Sunny chirped half heartedly, “It’s past me now. “She glanced towards the door, “Besides, I have people who care about me now, and they make it pretty clear that I am worth far more than what my mother said.”

There was another silence. The distant sound of laughter reached them from outside, “I am sorry, for the way I treated you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Sunny chirped again, “I hurt your son, you would have to be crazy to trust me, or even like me all that much.” “Still, I should have been willing to trust his judgement…. He’s my youngest, and sometimes I forget he’s his own man.” She laughed, “Every time I picture him he’s still eight years old.”

“Are you sure he isn't” 

The two of them laughed.

The door creaked open just then, and Jim stepped into the house a handful of dandelions in one hand. He seemed surprised to find the two of them laughing with each  other, but just as pleased, “What did I miss.”

Martha smiled, “Nothing important. What do you have there?”

“Well, I was just getting rid of these from the lawn, and I was going to throw them away, but.” He glanced at sunny sheepishly, “I thought I heard Adam mention that you liked eating them, so…. I bought them inside instead. Forgive me for overstepping or mishearing.”

Sunny perked up a bit at the sight of the little yellow weed, “You heard him right.”

Jim looked relieved, handing Sunny the flowers and coming down to sit  at the table. Sunny munched on the flower rather happily. 

“Please eat them all. I hate those little yellow bastards.”

Martha looked over at Sunny, “Adam ever taught you how to play cards?”

Sunny shook her head, “I’ve seen him play, but we usually do other things.”

“Might as well do something while we pass the time.” Jim reached out to open a drawer revealing a few decks of cards. “Prism, turn on the sports channel.”

A blue light flashed around the upper edge of the ceiling, and a projection bloomed to life at the center of the room.

Martha began manipulating the cards between her hands adding a pleasant shuffling sound to the air.

Sunny growled at the screen.

“What, you don’t like the Strikers?”

“No, their coach is a D bag and Marcos can’t throw to save his life.”

Jim laughed, “Finally someone who gets it. Only Jeremy was ever into football, but they’re his favorite team.”

“Schmuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

Sunny chirped happily, and Jim laughed.

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XX

A/N’s at the end:

Parts I-XIX:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

.XX.

Lucie was already awake when the knock came at her door. She’d been up with the sun writing a letter to Grace for her next available time to meet so that they could continue with their plan to resurrect Jesse without having to sacrifice a life. She’d been up half of the night with ghastly dreams of herself holding a knife to the neck of someone she loves. When it came down to it, even in her wildest imagination, she couldn’t bring herself to do it; not even to a stranger. When it seemed sleep would allude her, she did what she’d always do when reality came to be too much. She sat at her small writing desk pressed underneath the window so she could see the moon and the stars once the clouds had broken away enough. She started a new story. Disappearing into a different reality with new, but familiar people, and stayed with them until dawn. In her alternative universe, there was no mention of demon attacks, murder rates, or pretentious leaders. Instead, they flowered with friendships and love pursued, sustained, or left in need of resuscitation. The pages smelt soft as if sprinkled with powder. She wrote until her wrist ached and her fingers locked and she was forced to rest.

Lucie had just finished buttoning the pearl buttons down the front of her dress when a small knock came at her door. She picked up her gloves and companion hat and glanced once at the drying pages on her desk.

Her hands were stained with black ink that even the fiercest scrubbing wouldn’t remove. Her once clean and neatly trimmed nail beds were all colored with ink. When she woke this morning, she found a mark on her chin, across her forehead, and even some on her bottom lip. Luckily, those came off with a bit of soap and warm water. She recalled the hands of a painter that once did a portrait for the Institute. Not only his hands were riddled with color, but his clothes and his traveling bag as well. An artist doesn’t need to speak or show off their work to be known as an artist. An artist wears their work wherever they go.

She smiled to herself as she opened the door to find their butler with a letter sitting on a silver tray.

“The post arrived,” he said and lowered the tray for Lucie. “Breakfast shall be ready shortly. Are you in need of any assistance this morning.”

As soon as she saw the neat, elegant gold lettering of her name on the smooth parchment, Lucie nearly leaped onto the letter.

“No, thank you,” she fumbled. “That will be all.” And shut the door with her foot.

Without a letter opener close by, she used her finger to slide underneath the wax seal and pulled out the letter, tossing the envelope aside as she unfolded the paper.

Dear Lucie,

I am writing to request your assistance with some correspondence letters I have been needlessly putting off for the last month. If you find yourself with some time today, would you be so kind as to come by the house at any time after noon. The back door will be open. You can see yourself in.

Best,

Aunt Cecily

Clever girl, thought Lucie. Pretending to be her Aunt as to not give away their agenda. Perhaps she did not give Grace the full credit she deserved.

She folded the letter into a small rectangle and stuffed into the bodice of her dress. As she turned to leave, her gloves slipped from her hands and her mouth dropped.

Jesse leaned against the door. With his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes held her face with a rage that rivaled even her own anger.

“And what is it that you want?” She asked with a slight break in her voice.

Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going.”

Lucie scoffed. “And are you going to be the one who stops me?”

“Yes,” he growled.

“Is this how it’s to be?” She brushed a curl away from her face. “I do something you don’t particularly agree with and you suddenly become my own personal poltergeist?”

“When you’ve left me no other choice,” he said. “I’m trying to leave you alone. I realize I made a mistake by taking advantage of your ability to see me. I’ll never forgive myself for giving into the selfish ideology that after so many years alone, I finally had someone to talk to, that it never occurred to me the wild, beautiful girl would try to resurrect my lifeless corpse.”

“A terrible mistake on your part,” said Lucie, picking up her gloves from the floor.

Jesse stepped away from the door. “I tried staying away from you, but that clearly hasn’t worked. You’ve just managed to get yourself into even more trouble.”

“I need you to move,” said Lucie.

“Lucie, you cannot go there. It’s dangerous. Whatever you’re thinking, whatever they’re planning, it will not bring me back. Not as I was and not as I am now.” He reached for her, but his hands stopped in the air, as if he suddenly thought better of it. His expression softened. “In truth, this is something that I never wanted to confess to you, I’d hoped that you’d simply just let me go. But I realize how important it is now. Lucie, the way you think you feel about me, I don’t feel that way about you.”

Lucie rocked back on her heels just a bit. “And how is it you think I feel about you?”

“An infatuation,” said Jesse. “I’ve let it go on because there’s not many people to talk to when no one can see you. I’ve been alone for so long, quietly observing everything, but never able to engage. And then one day, I heard a girl’s voice in the forest, calling for help and I felt this pull to answer her. A pull that I couldn’t ignore. I never expected you to be able to see me— much less communicate with me, but you could. And it felt like dry land after months at sea. I’ve been using you, Lucie. Selfishly using you, because I couldn’t stand to be alone any longer.”

Lucie’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you. You’re just saying these things so I won’t go.”

“It’s true,” said Jesse. “Lucie, you’ve been a great friend, but bringing me back to life won’t make us more than that.”

He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it. He was just trying to push her away; protect her. But the doubt crept in all the same. He never once insinuated that their relationship was anything more than a strange friendship. If he were all she had to talk to in the world, she felt she would have clung to him, if only not to be alone.

Warmth spread across her cheeks. She had to look away from him. She needed to leave. “Please move,” said Lucie quietly.

“Are you still—“

“Move,” she said again and his form brushed aside as if shoved by the wind. Jesse stumbled for a moment, while he gained his bearings again, Lucie pulled open the door and left.  

Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she managed to hold them back. If this was his truth, it was best she knew. Still, the anger boiled inside of her until she almost turned around twice to tell him that she wasn’t bringing him back so they could ride off into the sunset together. She was giving him his life back because he didn’t deserve to die when he did. The way he did. He deserved to live and if she could give that to him, with nothing in return, then that would make her happy.

But if that wasn’t what he wanted, then perhaps it wasn’t her place to force it upon him.

She ran past the empty drawing room and turned the corner to descend the hallway to the dining room when she stopped.

Standing outside the door, pacing like a nervous jungle cat in a cage, was Cordelia. As Lucie approached, it seemed she was speaking in an entirely different language to herself, muttering to hands without noticing Lucie’s approach until she stood right behind her.

“Oh!” Cordelia stumbled back, clutching her chest. “Lucie, I didn’t hear you.”

Lucie appraised Cordelia, her hair was pulled back and braided into a coronet that ran into a braid down her shoulder. Her dress was a soft honey color that swooped across her chest exposing her delicate collarbone. The intricate beading had spots missing, but Lucie could still tell it was one of Cordelia’s most treasured items, if only because she’d never seen her wear it before.

“You look lovely,” said Lucie, running her fingers over the soft silk of the skirt that held Cordelia’s curve closely.

“Do I?” Cordelia blanched. “I supposed I’m trying to make a bit of an impression today.”

Lucie looked around the empty hallway. “On whom?”

Cordelia blushed. “It’s a bit of a long story, and I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable by telling you this information, but James and I may have kissed last night.”

Lucie’s eyebrow jumped and her traitorous heart ached. “May have?”

Cordelia grinned down at her distressed leather boots. “All right, we did. But before we could discuss it, my brother walked out and said all of these awful things to him. I haven’t been able to talk to him yet. I feel terrible.”

“Is that why dinner was so awkward last night?” asked Lucie, recalling the silent meal that passed between everyone except for the adults who kept attempting to make conversation, but couldn’t manage to get more than a few words out of the young adults sitting at the end of the table. No one would make eye contact and Cordelia just pushed the vegetables around her shepherds pie. Lucie had just assumed it was because she didn’t like shepherds pie. “Is James in there now?”

Cordelia shook her head. “My brother is sitting in there alone. A ploy to be sure James and I aren’t alone together. I was hoping to catch James before he came to breakfast, but I haven’t seen him come down. Oh, do you think he’s avoiding me?”

“No,” Lucie assured her. “He’s probably dressing as we speak and taking just as much care as you have.”

“Is it too obvious?”

“No, just the right amount of obvious,” said Lucie. “Sometimes I think my dear brother needs a brilliantly lit beacon for a sign and even then it might wallop him over the head before he saw it. Why don’t you go find him now and I’ll distract Alastair?”

“Because I can’t risk someone seeing me go into his room alone and I can’t very well speak to him freely in the open hallway,” said Cordelia, burying her face in her gloved hands. “I was hoping to catch him before breakfast and ask him for a morning walk. I don’t know what to do, Lucie, I’ve never been in this sort of situation before. And now I have Alastair hovering around me like a judgmental headmistress at a convent.”

“Have you a lot of experience at convents?” teased Lucie.

“You know what I mean,” said Cordelia.

Lucie smiled and patted her dear friend between the shoulders. “I do. Now, here’s what we’re going to do—“

Before she could give Cordelia her plan, James ran into the hallway. His hair stood up from sleeping on it wet and his gear was buckled incorrectly as if he’d done it in a hurry and without glancing in a mirror. Lucie couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She looked over at Cordelia who was beaming as if a witchlight had been stuffed inside of her.

“The post arrived—“ James started but was quickly shushed by a gloved hand over his mouth.

Cordelia lunged at him. “Shhh… we must be quiet. Alastair is there.”

James stiffened. “Good. I mean to speak to him.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” said Lucie, blocking the door. “I think the two of you have more to speak about than you and Alastair. Besides, it’s barely nine in the morning. That’s far too early for blood shed.”

James took Cordelia’s hand as if in some sort of act of defiance. “I am not going to sneak around your brother. I’m not going to sneak around anyone. We’ve spent far too much time in secret, I won’t do it anymore.”

Cordelia seemed to melt into herself as she leaned towards James.

Lucie snapped her fingers between them. “That’s wonderful, but now is not the time. What was in the post?”

James tore his eyes away from Cordelia to look back at his sister. He looked at her with a confused expression as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

“The post,” Lucie demanded. “You said the post arrived. What was in the post?”

“Right,” he shook his head. “Magnus replied. He said that he found it suspicious that we chose to write him a letter rather than show up at his door unexpectedly and unannounced as history suggests. Suspicious and intriguing, he said, so he’s invited us over this afternoon.”

“Wonderful,” said Cordelia. “How are we going to get past my brother?”

The three of them thought for a moment. If Alastair had any suspicion that Cordelia would be going off with James alone, he’d be sure to insist on joining or not allowing it at all.

“You’ll tell him you’re coming with me,” said Lucie. “I have to go to Aunt Cecily’s this afternoon to help her with some correspondence. You can tell him that you’re joining me. James, what time are you supposed to patrol with Matthew?”

“Noon,” said James.

“That’s perfect,” said Lucie. “You’ll look as if you’re going off to meet Matthew to patrol and Cordelia will look as if she’s joining me to go to Cecily’s except Cordelia will hop into your carriage instead of mine.”

James and Cordelia stared at Lucie for a long moment before either of them said anything.

“That brilliant, actually,” said James.

“I know, now fix your gear,” said Lucie. “You look like an idiot.”

Lucie speared another sausage onto her fork from the steaming plate in the middle of the dining room table that had been neatly done up with slow burning candles and plain white china plates. Tessa and Will had left the Institute early to attend a meeting with the Counsel. Sona was being visited by a Silent Brother who insisted on keeping a close eye on Sona’s pregnancy due to her age and fragility.

The meal prepared was as extravagant as the table setting: piles of fresh sausages, perfectly browned toast with freshly churned cinnamon butter, golden scrambled eggs, bacon slices, and bowls of seasonal fruit sprinkled with sugar.

The smell wafted through the Institute like a beacon.

Lucie sat beside Cordelia who sat opposite Alastair. He’d finished his breakfast before they left James to ready the carriages. With his plate cleared from in front of him, he flipped through the mundane newspaper occasionally glancing up to examine the two girls opposite him.

The silence between the two Carstairs was palpable. If Lucie wasn’t so nervous herself about having to go to Grace and tell her that she no longer wanted to help bring Jesse back, she might have tried harder to fill the silence. But with her own thoughts racing with the truth Jesse had shared with her, she couldn’t bring herself to even try.

“What are your plans for today?” Alastair asked gently. “I thought we could go to the park and get some fresh air. Maybe that will help to restore some of your memories.”

Cordelia’s fork clanged against her plate. “Lucie’s Aunt needs help responding to correspondences today. I’ve been asked to join her.”

“Oh,” said Alastair. “That’s all right. Do you need an escort?”

“No,” said Cordelia sharply. “James will be busy patrolling with Matthew so you needn’t worry about the two of us sneaking off together.”

Alastair’s mouth stiffened. “Cordelia, I know that you’re angry with me, but—“

“I’m not angry,” said Cordelia, pushing her plate of food away. “We can walk around the park tomorrow or perhaps this afternoon. There are some things we aren’t finished discussing, but if you’ll excuse us, our carriage should be ready and Cecily is expecting us.”

Lucie followed Cordelia when she stood up from the table, but before she turned to leave, she saw Alastair look down at his hands resting in his lap. His mouth muttered something under his breath, probably something he wanted to say to Cordelia, but couldn’t bring himself to. For all of his faults, and he had many, Lucie could recognize the love in his eyes towards his sister.

The two girls left the room, hurrying through down the hallway towards the front doors where two carriages waited. James sat in the driver’s seat of the open one that was mostly used for transporting items. Balios stood patiently while James hopped down and assisted Cordelia into the spot beside him on the bench.

“We’ll meet back at the Institute at three,” said Lucie, that would give them plenty of time for Magnus to muddle through Cordelia’s mind and James to look for the book while she abandoned her plan to help Jesse. “We need to come in together so no one will be suspicious. Good luck, Cordelia. If anyone can find your lost memories, it’s Magnus.”

“Let’s hope so,” said Cordelia and nodded at James to leave.

Lucie gathered her dress and climbed into the carriage waiting for her. She took her seat beside the window on the plush velvet bench and tried not to think about what she was about to do.

Jesse’s words played over in her mind until eyes burned. Maybe it was foolish of her to believe that there was anything more there; that he might actually care for her. Perhaps she did spend too much time in her fairytales that she’d lost touch of reality. Perhaps this was all for the best. She could focus on her training, on becoming parabatai with Cordelia, and finish her manuscript for publication. She’d have to think of a clever pen name, possibly a male one like Jane Austen had, so that her audience would expand past bored housewives.

And perhaps one day she’d meet someone. Alive, preferably, and her feelings for Jesse Blackthorn would be just a distant memory that she tucked into a box in her mind until they’re completely forgotten about, consumed by other things.

She wondered if he’d forget her too. If that was something he could do.

If it was something he’d done already.

It was nearly noon when the carriage came to a stop outside of her Aunt Cecily’s house. She did as Grace instructed and went around the back. The house looked dark when she approached the door though the garden. There was no light coming through the windows, normally Cecily had the doors open to let a breeze inside and some of the stuffiness out or the housemaids were hard at work dusting rugs, hanging laundry, or pouring out dirty mop water, but there was no such activity. Perhaps Grace preferred everything to be quiet.

Lucie rapped her knuckles on the dark wood once. “Grace, it’s Lucie. I don’t want to frighten you by barging in.”

After a moment, when she heard nothing, she tested the door knob and found it unlocked. She pushed it open on  its aged hinges and walked into the kitchen. The curtains had all been drawn leaving the room dark except for small slivers of light where the sun came in through a break in the curtains. Flakes of dust danced in the air as Lucie passed through to the front drawing room.

“Grace,” Lucie called as she checked the chairs and the lounge sofa where they’d shared their bargain. The room was empty and quiet except for the sound of the old grandfather clock ticking away the seconds. “Grace, are you here?”

A chill drifted through the thin fabric of Lucie’s sleeves. There was a faint smell of burning wood.

Lucie turned towards the stairs leading up to the second floor.

“I don’t find this humorous,” said Lucie, and walked slowly up the stairs despite her instincts telling her to stop. “If you’re hiding because you don’t want to help me, well I’m here to tell you that I’ve decided to put an end to our plan. Your brother is adamant that he doesn’t want my help to bring him back and wishes to terminate all contact with me, so you can stop the theatrics now.”

She reached the top of the landing where the hallway split in two directions: West and East. Lucie glanced to her right and knew her aunt and uncle's room to be down at the end and Anna’s room being the first door on the left.

The sound of shuffling feet came from her left. She glanced in that direction just as the skirt of a white dress drifted into a doorway.

Lucie released a sigh and hurried towards the door. Words laced with venom filled her mouth as she stomped down the hallway and nearly kicked open the door.

“I sincerely hope you—“ The words were cut short. Laying in the center of a four poster bed in a black tailored suit, like he’d just risen from a nap, was Belial.

He grinned that cunning, familiar smile at her. “Good,” he said. “You received my message.”

A/N: Happy Halloween friends! I hope you all had a wonderful and safe holiday whether it was spent watching scary movies alone or with friends, safely trick-or-treating in a neighborhood, or partying it up sipping booze through a straw and hole in your mask while dressed like Napoleon Dynamite or a ninja turtle (I'm not judging). Live your best life! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. We are starting to get back into the thick of it, and I for one, am excited. Please give it a like, tell me your thoughts on this chapter, reblog if you feel so inclined, and if you haven’t all ready give me a follow. I post about books, romance, and zero politics. Next update is coming at you, Nov 15!

[jungshookz]

ok but like what if jungkook and y/n are at a hockey match and a kiss cam lands on them but they're both strangers

➺ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre: biRTHDAY-themed fluff that is so utterly sweet you will undoubtedly get like ten cavities after reading this; tae demolished a whole serving of cheesy fries and he’s not feeling so good mr stark; namjoon & y/n bond over the fact that they just don’t get hockey   

➺ wordcount: 4.6k

➺ note: happy birthday to the man that not only owns my heart but also my whOLE ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh my goD i love him!!!!!!!!!!!! u ruin my life but also make it ten times better!!!!!!!!

(gif isn’t mine!)

                                      ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“remind me again why jimin couldn’t come with you instead?” you scowl when someone bumps into you from behind and you instinctively reach down to pull your purse to your front

…what??

you haven’t cashed in your latest paycheque and you don’t want anyone steaLing your hard-earned money

you stumble into tae’s back when someone knocks into you again

you would think that people would have the common decency to be a little more polite but no

this is so not your scene

plus you saw an army of ants feasting on the carcass of a cockroach in the washroom and you immediately hightailed it ouT of there

your bladder is just going to have to wait til you return to safety of your own toilet

tae told you he’d be happy to chug down a gallon of soda and give you the cup to pee in and you nearly considered it because that would probably be cleaner than the washrooms here

“because- yeah, two forks, please - because he had some dumb work thing that he couldn’t skip out on and i wasn’t going to waste my front row tickets!” tae scoffs as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world

well

that’s fair, you suppose

“you really couldn’t invite anybody else? i was your next choice?” you cling to the back of tae’s jersey because everyone keeps shoving into you and you feel like you’re going to be carriEd away by a hoard of sweaty hockey fans if you don’t hold on to something

you don’t mean to sound ungrateful because it is really nice of taehyung to have invited you to this apparently suPer big-deal of a hockey game (you’re pretty sure the fans here would rip each other apart to get their hands on a front row ticket) but like ?///???

you aren’t exactly a super enthusiastic sports person

sure, you’ll watch a couple matches if it’s on the tv while you’re cleaning up your apartment or if you just need some noise in the apartment but it’s not something that you actively seek out to watch

if anything you’re 100% more likely to watch spongebob squarepants over a sports game

you just don’t see the appeal of watching grown men (anD women! ur a feminist! girls are great!) gliding around on ice clickity-clacking a tiny puck here and there with wooden sticks while very aggressively shOving into each other at the same time  

also the names of the hockey teams are always so dumb

you could probably come up with a better hockey team name because all you have to do is pick an adjective and then pick an animal

the screaming giraffes

the wailing whales

the condescending toads

you would pay good money to watch a match between the screaming giraffes and the wailing whales

you’re not sure if the condescending toads would make a good name now that you think about it  

“aw, c’mon! it’s not like you had any other plans, anyways.” tae raises a brow at you and you immediately scoff

he has a good point.,.,., but stiLL

“i totally had plans!”

“ordering a party sized serving of chicken alfredo and garlic bread and watching netflix doesn’t count as plans.”

…okay anoTHer good point

the seats that you guys got are actually pretty good

you’re located right in the middle so you get an equal view of the goal on the right and the goal on the left

it’s not like you’re going to be paying attention to the game but still

very nice!

“can you believe we only had to pay $5 for all of this?” tae laughs lightly in disbelief as he rubs his hands together and looks down at the foot-long hot dog sitting on his lap

“…it should be concerning that we got all of this for $5.” you mutter under your breath and stare down at the plastic-looking cheese smothered over the fries

you told tae not to go overboard with the food but of course he didn’t listen to you which is why you guys are sharing a foot-long chilli cheese dog anD an extra large order of chilli cheese fries and a slurpee served in a literal bucket

usually you’d be down to inhale all of this but uh

you don’t want to sound snooty or anything but you saw one of the employees accidentally drop an entire bag of cheese into the pot before quickly fishing it out with their bare hands and you’re pretty sure that’s a health code violation

you mentioned it to tae and he said it wasn’t a big deal and- well, he’s already starting to scarf down the hot dog

side note

these fries are actually really good

you stab a few more of them with your fork before shovIng the biteful into your mouth and gently dabbing some cheese sauce off your chin with your napkin

just because you’re starving doesn’t mean all your manners are going to fly out the damn window

you didn’t eat breakfast this morning so this is a great first meal

“vou know what fhe beft part iv of sitting in the front?” tae asks through a faT mouthful of hot dog and you immediately wince in respond

men are disgusting

“what?” you reach over to wipe tae’s mouth with a napkin because both his hands are occupied by the almost offensively large hotdog

he swallows his bite before licking some chilli from the corner of his mouth

again

men are disgusting

“sometimes the hockey players get sLammed right up against the protective shield right in front of us.” tae gestures to the clear plastic panels separating the crowd from the rink “and if you’re really lucky, you get to see someone lose a tooth or something!”

you immediately make a face

“wha- how is that-“

“jungkook, over here! i found our seats!” you glance over for a second when someone quite literally scReams out loud for their friend

and then you’re turning to face tae again

“as i was saying,” you pause for a brief second when tae reaches over to take the fries from you, “how the hell is that the best part about sitting in the fr-“

you jump in surprise when what feels like a whole handful of popcorn suddenly scatters down on your head and onto your lap

oh coMe ON

you just washed your hair this morning!!!!!

the crumbs are going to look like you have veRy bad dandruff

also this is heavily buTTERED popcorn which means that the grease stains on your jeans are probably going to be there for the rest of your life

and these jeans were expeNSIVE

>:-(

this hockey game is not a very fun experience so far

“oh shit, sorry!”

“it’s all good, it’s all good…” you mutter as you flick a kernel of popcorn off your shoulder

yep

there’s a speck of grease on your sweater

greAt

“just be careful with that drink of yours because i-“ you look up to-

o-oh

OH

oh god

oh god the popcorn guy is cute

and not just cute

he’s like.,,. he’s suPER CUTE

round brown eyes

obscenely perfectly tousled black hair

he definitely looks to be around your age which is a big fat bonus

although that colour-block hoodie of his is making him look a lot younger you still think it’s safe to say he’s probably around your age

“sorry, miss… the plastic lids here are flimsy as hell and mine keeps popping off so you can’t blame me if i get you wet!” the guy flashes you a boyish smile and you feel your mouth go dry

oh dear lord

have mercy

“hey- you want extra chilli on your half of the hot dog?” you’re rudely poPped out of your little bubble when taehyung suddenly elbows your side

“wh- what? what?” you tear your eyes away from the handsome stranger who’s making himself comfortable in the seat right next to you before clearing your throat and looking over at tae

“extra chilli!” tae chirps and raises your half of the hot dog up a little

he already finished his half which isn’t a huge surprise

to be honest he was going to just go ahead and finish the hot dog but he figured it’d be nice to at least offer you a bite

“-i even asked for an extra little container of chopped up onions because i know you like-“

“no!” you blurt out and whack the container of onions out of tae’s hand causing it to smAck against the plastic divider before clattering to the ground

the two of you blink down at it

tae purses his lips before subtly kicking as much of it as possible under his seat

“i, um, i’m actually not that hungry. you can finish the hot dog.” you clear your throat again before unscrewing the lid of your bottle of water and taking a tentative, ladylike sip

“…what are you talking about? you were going to town on those cheesy fries like five seconds ago- oW-“

“jungkook, over here! i found our seats!” jungkook perks up when he sees namjoon waving him over

aH

there he is!

he was starting to get worried that namjoon wandered off somewhere or somehow locked himself in the supply closet or something

namjoon put him in charge of snack duty and he went aLL out

popcorn? check!

roasted peanuts? double check!

blue-flavoured slurpee? triple check!

he actually ended up getting two drinks because namjoon likes to bite the straw and jungkook doesn’t want to share a drink with a straw-biter

“here, i’ll take the peanuts and my drink-“ namjoon plucks the paper bag and the plastic cup cradled in jungkook’s arms before he steps aside to let him squeeze into the aisle

namjoon actually won these hockey game tickets from a raffle at work and jungkook almost exploded with joy when he invited him to come and watch it with him

it was actually pretty perfect timing because the game just so happened to land on jungkook’s birthday

namjoon gave jungkook the best birthday present and he didn’t even have to spend a dime

:’)

“s’cuse me, sorry-“ jungkook weasels his way in between the aisles and carefully steps over people’s legs as he makes his way to his seat exciTEdly

he’s never been to a live sports game before!!!

and he’s definitely never been in the froNt row of anything before!!!!

two birds with one fAt stone!

also he-

“oh shit, sorry!” he gasps when he accidentally tips his carton of popcorn a little bit causing it to land all over the stranger seated next to his spot

shiT

there goes half his popcorn

he’s not going to go back up to the concessionary stand to get more popcorn because the game is about to start and the line is probably still half a mile long

“it’s all good, it’s all good…” jungkook winces to himself and feels his cheeks heat up a little as he watches you brush the popcorn to the ground

yikes

he’s about to sit down when suddenly you speak up again “just be careful with that drink of yours because i-“

jungkook feels his heart skip a beat when you look up at him

oh wowie you’re pretty  

…he just spilt his greasy popcorn all over a very pretty girl

double yikes

it’s fine

just play it cool

he can play it cool

“sorry…” jungkook raises his cup a little “the plastic lids here are flimsy as hell and mine keeps popping off so you can’t blame me if i get you wet!”

he immediately pales as soon as that tumbles out of his mouth

wha-

what the HELL was that?!?!?!

out of all the things he could’ve said

his three and a half brain cells came up with thAT

you can’t blame me if i get you wet???????

you probably think he’s some kind of weird peRVERT now

luckily your boyfriend starts talking to y-

huh

you have a boyfriend

of course you have a boyfriend

jungkook lets out a little huff before plopping down on the plastic seat

whatever >:-(

namjoon leans over and glances into the popcorn bag before frowning

damnit

he just wanted some popcorn

:-(

“holy shiT, did you see that backhand????” tae practically screeches as he reaches over and slaps your arm aggressively “y/n, did you see it????”

“i saw- i sAW it, i saw it!” you scowl and smack his hands away from you

“oh my god, that was legEndary-“

you can barely hear tae’s enthusiastic blabbering because all you can hear is the sound of skates shrEdding up the ice and the sound of the puck being whacked back and forth and also cheers and whOops from all of these diehard fans

you honestly have no idea what the hell is going on right now

all you know is that the two teams are tied right now and everYone’s getting frustrated

you’re not sure which team you should be rooting for so you’re just basing it off of which uniform you like better

in other words, you’re cheering on the pUrpLe team!

also no one’s been smacked up against the plastic divider yet which is a huge relief because you’re not sure if you want to see anyone lose any teeth today

“will you cut it out?? your future girlfriend probably isn’t going to appreciate it if you’re practically beating her up-“

jungkook perks up immediately when he hears that come out of your mouth

aH

so that guy isn’t your boyfriend!

nice!!!!!

that means he still has a chance even though he dumped like a pound of popcorn on you and almost drenched you in his blue-flavoured slurpee

also he didn’t mean to eavesdrop

it’s just hard noT to eavesdrop when you’re sitting right next to him

he’s been paying attention to the game because duH but also he keeps thinking about how cute u look when you have a mouthful of french fries

also

now he knows that your name is y/n which is actually pretty fitting

you look like a y/n

it’s cute!

on an unrelated note

u smell rly nice but he can’t quite put his finger on what that particular scent is

jungkook’s nose twitches

hm

“what do you mean the game isn’t over yet??” you groan and plop yourself back down in the seat “there was an intermission like half an hour ago!!!”

“there are two intermissions, you whiney baby!”  tae scowls

you need to chill

you’re acting like watching a hockey game is equivalent to getting your teeth pulled out

you’re being a bABy

if he can sit through hours and houRS of your reality tv shows you can sit through one hockey game

“so…” namjoon pauses for a second “the game… isn’t over?”

“nope! there’s one more round.” jungkook chirps and shovels a handful of popcorn into his mouth

“oh.” namjoon slumps back in his seat a little

he thought the game was over

to be honest he was ready to leave before the first intermission but jungkook looked like he was having the time of his life so he decided to wait it out  

“so what are we supposed to do now?” namjoon furrows his brows “do they just expect us to wait and do nothing?”

“well, no, they’re doing that thing where-“ jungkook immediately chokes when he suddenly sees his face on the jumbotron

and unsurprisingly

your face is also on the jumbotron

“y/n-“

“hold on, i’m about to beat my high score-“ your tongue pokes out in concentration as you focus on your very intense session of tetris

“y/n-“ tae hisses and punches your arm

“ow!” you whine and rub your sore arm

tae’s been hitting you for the duration of the whole game and you’re pretty sure your arm is about to fall off

he needs to cut it out

he knoWs you bruise like a pEACH

“-what did i tell you about hitting me???” you put your phone down and turn to glare at tae

“you’re on the- look!!!!” tae points to the front and-  

you immediately pale when you realise that yes, that is most definitely your face on the jumbotron right now, and yes, you and jungkook, the very handsome stranger that you definitely already have a crush on, are currently trapped inside of a big pinK heart with the words ‘KISS CAM’ floating on top of the heart

oh god

you can’t kiss him

you still taste like cheesy fries

and your lips are chapped

and your tongue is stained blue from the slurpee

you can’T KISS HIM

and also he’s a literal stranger but most importantly you are not in the right state to be kisSEd right NOW

“oh, no-“ you shake your head quickly before making a slicing gesture over your neck “we’re not- we’re not together!”

jungkook glances at you for a brief second and he can sEe the panic in your eyes

okay

he was down to kiss you but obviously you don’t feel the same way which is totally understandable but stiLL

oh well

he might as well join in on the protesting

“right, yeah- we don’t know each other!” jungkook shakes his hand at the camera and you flash a sheepish smile at the camera before shrugging

the crowd immediately erupts into boos and you immediately scoff before turning to face the people behind you

“excuse-” you gawk when someone has the audacity to thrOW a handful of popcorn down at you guys “-excuse you!”

you turn back to face the camera and shake your head before holding your arms up and crossing one over the other

“sorry! we’re not going to kiss!!!!!!!!”

you shoot a glare in tae’s direction when he joins in on the booing

sometimes you don’t know why you’re friends with him because he’s literally suCH a moRON

“seriously, we’re not- oh, okay-“ you let out a breath of relief when the camera moves away from the two of you

you immediately slump back in your seat

phEW

that was a close call

if ur going to kiss jungkook it’s going to be because he wantS to kiss you and noT because he’s being forCed to kiss you

“sorry about that…” he turns to look at you and you immediately perk up

“no, you have nothing to apologise for! don’t sweat it.” you laugh lightly and shake your head before digging through your purse for a stick of gum

your breath still tastes like cheesy fries and it’s not very pleasant

“i, uh, i’m jungkook, by the way.” jungkook sticks his hand out for you to shake

oh

he’s… introducing himself to you

…does that mean… he might be… interested in you…?

hM

much to think about

you take his hand gently before offering him a shy smile “i’m y/n.”

“and i’m taehyung!” tae leans over and shoots jungkook a boxy smile “i would shake your hand but my fingers are still sticky with cheese.”

your eyes flutter shut and you pinch the bridge of your nose

kim taehyung is the absolute bane of ur existence

“it’s nice to meet you guys. uh, this is-“ jungkook glances over his shoulder “this is namjoon!”

“hey, hi.” namjoon smiles politely and nods to the both of you in acknowledgement “are you guys big hockey fans?”

“i’m not, but tae is-“ you laugh lightly and namjoon’s eyes liGht up

“i’m not that big of a fan either! i honestly don’t really get it!“

“right??” you gasp in excitement because now you have someone you can actually talk to about this stuff “what’s the big deal with a group of grown men gliding around and-“

“i know!! also i always lose track of where the puck is-“

taehyung and jungkook lean back slightly to give each other the same looks of ‘do you hear what i’m hearing right now?’

“i don’t see what the point is of having two intermissions-“ you nearly jump ten feet into the air when the crowd suddenly buRsts into cheers and for a second you think it’s because the game is resuming

but nO

because take a WILD guess as to whose faces are up on the jumbotron aGAIN

“wha- are you people serious?!” you gawk as you stare at yourself at the screen

…is that really what you look like?

you look weirder when you’re up on the big screen for some reason

you don’t get a chance to dwell on the fact that people can probably see your pores from how HD the camera is because the next thing you know, the crowd is beginning to chant

“kiss! kiss! kiss! kiss!”

jungkook lets out a nervous laugh and shakes his head before reaching up to pluck at the silver hoop hanging from his ear (it’s a nervous hAbit and he is very vERY nervous right now) “sorry, we’re not going to!”

“kiSS! kiSS! kiSS! kiSS!”

“you heard the guy!” you gesture over to jungkook “we’re not doing it, you pERverts!”

it seems like the audience couldn’t give leSS of a shit because every time you and jungkook say that you two aren’T going to kiss they become more riled up

even taehyung and namjoon have joined in on the chanting

namjoon can’t help but snort when jungkook turns to look at him with briGht red cheeks

if ya can’t beat em join em!!!

“we’re going to be here all day! just move on!”

“KISS!”

“we’re not going to kiss!!!!!!!”

“KISS!”

“we don’t even know each other!”

“KISS!”

“my lips are suPer chapped!”

“KISS!”

“take a hint!”

“oh for the love of god-“ jungkook’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when you’re suddenly grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him towards you and-

his heart stops in his chest when you press your lips against his and he immediately freezes

o god

you’re kissing him

you’re kiSsing HIM

you pull away far too soon for jungkook’s liking (it was obviously only meant to be a peck) and jungkook blinks owlishly

wha-

is that it?????

that’s all????

you are riPPING him off

“there, we kissed! are you freAKS happ-“ before you get a chance to get all smug with the camera jungkook’s yanking you back and smearing his lips over yours

the crowd now eRUPTS into cheers and screams and namjoon is literally screeching his head off next to jungkook

taehyung isn’t doing any better

he threw his half-eaten hot dog up into the aIR

and for a brief second jungkook thinks you’re going to freak out and pull away but he’s more than pleasantly surprised when you begin to kiss him back

also he figured out what u smell like and why he likes it so much

it’s because you smell like his favourite fabric softener

and if that’s not a sign that you’re basically perFect for him then he doesn’t know what is!!!!

jungkook reaches up to cup your cheek gently while your fingers curl around the nape of his neck

needless to say

you are vERy much making out with a stranger right now (your mom would probably flip if she found out) but you most definitely don’t give a hECK because jungkook’s lips are so soft and he tastes like buttery popcorn

the tiniest of whimpers slips past your lips when jungkook teases you with small brushes of his tongue against yours

he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss and all of a sudden you feel lightheaded and your entire body feels like jello

he’s such a good kisser that you nearly forget the fact that the two of you are making out in front of like 20,000 people right now

a smirk twitches at the corner of jungkook’s mouth when he pulls away and you immediately respond with a whine

it started off with you getting him all flustered but obviously the tables have turned because you are just putty in his hands and he knows it

“jungkook…” you sigh breathlessly as he nudges his nose against yours

oH boy

your soul definitely left your body

you’re still floating on cloud nine

meanwhile the crowd is still compLETELY losing it because they were just expecting a little pek and not THIS

“yeah?” jungkook takes his bottom lip in between his teeth as he resists the urge to lean in and kiss you again

“i think this means you have to take me out on a date now.”

“…i think you might be right.”

best

birthday

ever

:-)

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

drabble masterlist // main masterlist

[goodnightyoongi]

[Yoongi x fem!reader] pt3

genre: hurt/comfort/fluff

rating: gen

word count: 2,5k

summary: Yoongi and you are childhood friends, but you’re overcome by inability to take care of yourself or your life, lately. He’s right by your side to help you, and you recently discovered there might be something more than friendship between you.

warnings: implied depression, some self-critical thoughts, alcohol, drunken kissing. 

Can be read as standalone, but this fic is part of a chaptered series:  

Part I: Catalyze

Part II: Flicker

Part IV: Release

Your arms were awkwardly clutched around your midriff as you watched Yoongi rummage around the crowded corner shop, throwing thing after thing into the shopping basket without much consideration. 

The two of you were probably a peculiar sight right now. One of you looked ready to hurl any second, uncomfortable about being out in public again, and the other one resembled a small-time burglar with his snapback, dark sunglasses and hoodie pulled securely over his head.

“Just want to remain incognito, is all,” was the explanation he provided you earlier, after you giggled at the sight of him as he picked you up. “Fangirls tend to recognize me a lot...not in the mood for writing a gazillion autographs today.

Your initial reaction to that statement made you inwardly kick yourself. You actually felt a tiny ounce of what could only be described as jealousy when picturing him with all these fangirls – before a rational, inner voice reminded you that you were, firstly, being very silly, and secondly, about to head out with him in just a moment.

Oh, how shamelessly smitten you had become. It had already been a week since he surprised you by kissing you before taking you out for coffee, but there had been no second one yet, and this fact pushed you back into the pit of insecurity.

Maybe you were hoping for too much. You were a commoner, dealing with an array of different issues, and Yoongi was Yoongi. Famous, while you weren’t, and even your friendship couldn’t change this fact.

“Alright, we're almost set...just need to get the – hey, what's up? Are you okay?”

Yoongi had noticed the sickly green pallor of your face, and now his dark irises were regarding you with concern. You forced a strained smile, quickly unfurling your arms.

“Oh, yeah, sorry...I just...I'm not really used to being around people, is all...”

Once again, you cursed the way your voice sounded so frail. And you cursed the way everyday tasks such as shopping were so difficult all of a sudden. 

Shopping. It should be easy as pie, but no.

Yoongi was quick to calm you, sneaking an arm around your waist in a bid to chase away the anxiety. 

“You're good, hun. It's all good. We're almost done, just sit tight while I pay.”

Some thirty minutes later he swung the door to his apartment in Hannam open, and you scuttled inside, grateful to escape the ruckus of the busy streets of Seoul. Yoongi's gaze lingered on you, wandering to your behind as you bent down to untie your shoes, and this didn’t go unnoticed by you. You were flustered as you straightened out, and he smirked apologetically.

“Oh god, I’m sorry...I was staring, wasn't I...you just...you look really nice today, sweetie. Well you always do, but...” 

He paused, stepping closer, and your ears instantly heated up. You’d finally washed all your laundry, and the neat combination of light jeans and a loose white top apparently caught Yoongi's eyes.

“You're the most beautiful girl I know, you know that?”

“No I'm not –“

“Y/N...what did I tell you?”

Yoongi dug warning eyes into you, his arms tight over his chest. You yielded with a sigh. This guy wasn't about to allow one single chunk of self-critical narrative escape you anymore, that much was apparent by now.

“Sheesh, okay, okay...I'll accept the compliment...thanks.”

Yoongi looked satisfied, and a while later you were seated by the kitchen island with a glass of wine in your hand. You sipped it casually, trying your best to seem relaxed and unbothered.

Come on. Pull yourself together.

But you felt on edge, even though you'd been in this exact same scenario with Yoongi a million times before. 

Yoongi had discarded his hoodie, and you discreetly watched his t-shirt-covered back as he prepared dinner – just like you had a million times before. And your lower regions stirred just a little as you witnessed the muscles in his arms tense, veins getting more prominent as he cut up some vegetables – just like he had a million times before.

But now was different.

Now your feelings might be reciprocated. You still weren't entirely sure, though, but your sky was illuminated by a big fat maybe.

You cleared your throat, taking multiple distracting sips of wine to calm yourself.

“So um...you guys are just on a break now, then? No shows coming up or anything?”

Yoongi swung around, grabbing his own glass of whisky and stirring the liquid slightly. “Had some stuff scheduled, but I canceled it. I’m taking a few months off, we’ve been working so much this year...so yeah. Have all the time in the world to spend with you, sweetness.”

“BTS taking a break. That's a first. Are you sure the charts can handle that?”

“They’ll have to. I should have taken one earlier. You've been lacking from my life...way too much the past year.”

A blanket of melancholy settled over his face. You wondered what he was thinking. Was he, perhaps, thinking the same as you – that so many years had passed, that so many hidden feelings were harbored and never acted upon, and now the two of you were here. 

And maybe about to change that?

Yoongi blinked cryptically, before returning to his vegetables, and your heart performed a series of double somersaults. The bubble Yoongi created for the pair of you was safe, and you never wanted to step outside of it.

Never. 

Being in here was easy, here in Yoongi's lofty penthouse, tucked away from the real world with all its scary responsibilities.

Unfortunately, Yoongi decided to poke a hole in the protective layers of said bubble, just a moment later.

“Anyway, so...sorry to bring this up, but...have you given any more thought to return to school...to uni...soon?”

Yoongi's face fell when he saw you turn gloomy following the touchy subject. It had been avoided like the plague the past week, but of course you were aware, even though you just postponed it. 

Your mail was overflowing, flooded with reminders of overdue assignments and missed schedules, your phone full of unanswered calls from the guidance counselor. 

You didn’t avoid it by choice, but it had just...happened.

“I have,” you answered, gaze lowered. “Well...no I haven't...but, I know. I know I need to take care of it. I'll get kicked out soon unless I do, but...it just feels so overwhelming.”

Your tone was brittle as you hung your head in shame. The truth was you had made attempts to deal with it daily, but it was hard.

“Hey. Look at me,” Yoongi requested when he noticed your dejection. “It'll be okay. You can do it, just need to start small. But you should go see your school counselor you know, explain the situation, and uh…”

He paused a moment, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant. You weren't sure you liked where this was going. You grabbed the glass of wine, chugging the rest of it in one go.

“...I think you should consider seeing a therapist. To talk about this, the struggles you're facing with your mental health and...everything.”

Yoongi's hand had sneakily crept into yours, and he sighed when you instantly ripped it away and pushed your chair back.

“I'm not crazy, okay, I don't need –”

“Y/N.” Yoongi's voice had a sharpness to it now, and it silenced you before you even had a chance to expand on that note. He continued, cautiously, with a hand brushing loose strands of hair out of your eyes as he moved closer.

“No one said that, pumpkin. It doesn't mean that. It doesn't mean you're crazy. But you might be...depressed. And there's help for you, ways to deal with it.”

“I'm not depressed,” you claimed, weakly. An uninvited tear clawed its way out, rolling down before you could prevent it. You angrily mopped your cheek dry, and Yoongi settled a hand on your neck, gently running it down your back.

“Y/N...I know it’s daunting. But you need to figure things out with uni, alright. I'll come with you, baby. You'll be okay. Don't worry about it, we'll handle it.”

You stared at the white marble of the kitchen island a moment, gratitude warming your chest because he said we. You managed a wordless nod, and Yoongi gathered you into a sideways-hug.

“Good. I'll give you a refill of wine, just a sec. Oh, and the stew should be ready soon.”

Yoongi was an excellent chef, but even despite this, eating wasn't the easiest for you, because your appetite had disappeared somewhere unknown the past few months. This fact was neither appreciated nor accepted by Yoongi.

“Come on, sweetheart. Need to eat,” he tutted from across the table, and you sighed, peering out the tall window. The sky was a periwinkle blue, a congregation of soft cotton clouds passing by in the distance, and the view was majestic from up here – it was perfect. You wish you could be too.

But Yoongi shushed you when unnecessary apologies started falling off your tongue, and somehow you managed. Half the plate, with the help of patient cajoling and encouraging nods.

Drinking wasn't hard, though, and Yoongi was the epitome of sweet and gentlemanly as he prepared fresh cocktails for you to sip on during the course of the meal. By the time you moved to the couch you had become charmingly flushed, slurring a little on your words as you thanked your host for dinner. 

“You seem a little tipsy, baby,” Yoongi observed, chuckling when you almost spilled your mojito down your chin as you attempted to take another sip. “Want to try a bit of whisky?”

“Oh, hell no. That shit is nasty.”

“It's an acquired taste. You're just too much of a kid still.”

You glanced at him, feeling your body gradually heating up to blazing temperatures. The comfortable buzz traveling through you thanks to the alcohol definitely didn’t help slow it down. Yoongi's lips looked so pink, so soft, his fingers so elegant and inviting when he raised the whiskey glass to his mouth.

You wanted those fingers to wrap around you.

Impulse overtook you, a coil of tightly packaged desire that spurred you into closing the distance between the two of you. The bitter taste of whiskey mingled with sour lime in your mouth as you pressed your lips against Yoongi's, and the kiss was sloppy, but tender. You half-expected him to jerk away, but he didn't – instead he wrapped arms around your waist, pulling you against himself with a possessiveness that made your downstairs regions scream at you to move this forward asap.

It had been ages since you’d been intimate with anyone. Ages. And this was your dream. Your longtime crush, your Yoongi.

Yoongi's hands were all over you, his fingers threading through your hair, his tongue finding its way into your mouth – but when your brain finally caught up, you ripped yourself away, catching your breath as Yoongi's inky eyes blinked at you in surprise.

“What's up?”

“I'm...shit, I'm sorry, Yoongi...I shouldn't have thrown myself at you like that, like what the hell...I don't know what I was thinking...”

You turned away from him, lowering your head into your hands. Once again you’d just assumed that he was game for whatever it was you wanted...and one kiss meant nothing. After all, Yoongi had acted totally blasé since then, like it never even happened.

A hand settled on your shoulder, tugging in a request for you to turn around.

“Yeah you should, dummy. Why apologize, huh? I want to kiss you.”

“Then why haven't you yet?” You straightened up, glaring at him. You knew you probably sounded accusatory and like a brat and you might regret this, but you couldn't help it.

“Why haven't you, since...last week? I mean...I thought you shared the same feelings as me but then you just didn't make a move and I figured –”

“I didn't want to rush you,” Yoongi bit you off, his eyes radiating sincerity mixed with regret. “I wanted it to be your call, and not just...eh, screw it. That was a mistake. I care about you so much, Y/N. I want to do everything right.”

His lips moved impossibly close again. The backdrop turned into smudged colors and vague contours as his warm breath pumped you full of life again, woke your body from its slumber, made you limbs tingly with need. And you could do little to stop it.

The room around swam around you when you parted from him, roughly pushing him onto his back and settling on top of him, your movements jerky and hasty. You eagerly kissed him, arching your back and grinding against his crotch and smirking when you noticed the blatant hard-on forming inside his jeans. 

“Wait, hold up, hun...wait a second.”

Yoongi had a firm palm on your chest suddenly, acting as a roadblock, and you couldn’t help but feel wounded as you came to a surprised halt.

“What's wrong? Don’t you want me?”

Yoongi shook his head, violently, his hand moving up to cradle your heated cheek. “God, Y/N. I want you. I want you okay, I want nothing more. But...you're drunk, and I'm not. I don't want to take advantage of you, I need you sober. Okay?”

“You're not taking advantage of me,” you stated grumpily, and Yoongi pushed himself onto his elbows, tilting his head sympathetically. He scrambled into sitting again, but you shied away, still reeling from the rejection when he attempted to haul you in.

“Y/N...baby...don't get any funny ideas. I want you. Your mind, your body. But you've been cooped up at home a long time, okay, alone...and this is still new. We have to go slow, i don’t want to hurt you.”

You grumbled something inaudible in response, refusing to look at him. He moved the curtain of hair away from your eyes, his voice honest and pleading when he spoke.

“Please, hun...don’t take it the wrong way. You’re beautiful, I mean you noticed what effect you had on me, but...I just want to treat you well, and I need you to be onboard and completely clear-headed...because you mean the world to me. Okay, pumpkin?”

“Fine...okay, fine” You relented with a huff, but it transformed into giggling when Yoongi dragged you into his arms, peppering your cheeks with kisses.

“Good. Want to watch a movie? What do you fancy?”

You cruelly picked out a horror flick even though you knew your couch company hated them with a passion, and Yoongi agreed with a sigh, stating “anything for you, hun.” He threw a blanket around you, wrapping it around you snugly and collecting you into his arms as the opening credits rolled on the TV screen.

Silence followed as the lame plotline took off, but you weren't focusing on it. You were trying your hardest to still your beating heart, rays of warmth shooting through you when Yoongi drew you closer in, breathing hot air into your hair as he burrowed his nose into it.

It took a while for you to muster the courage to phrase the question lingering on your tongue, but you finally managed it.

“So...do you want to...”

“Be your boyfriend?”

You were stunned. You actually had planned on asking if he wanted to go for a proper date, but this was much better. Yoongi gripped your chin, turning you towards himself with an affectionate smile.

“Yeah, I do. I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend for quite some time,” he mumbled, before leaning in for a kiss that made you drunk. Drunker than all the alcohol you'd had during the course of the entire evening.

[haunted-by-catholic-guilt]

Won't You Cut Down That Apple Tree For Me?

Peter slept until he was awoken by a painful ache and burning feeling in his stomach, and he curled tighter into himself to try and avoid it.

He distantly remembered his time with Mag, how the few times he got sick, he was treated with a mix of soft comforts and angry lectures about how he was wasting time, how he’d never get anywhere like this.

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TW FOR VOMITING AND IMPLIED CHILD ABUSE

god I love my crime moms

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Peter was an intelligent man.

He had to be, his entire life career depending on it.

His career also depended on him being constantly ready to go, always nimble, and on his feet.

So when he woke up to a chest and head filled with cotton, he knew he had to file it away if he wanted to stay on the Carte Blanche.

He looked into the mirror over the sink, his face was a sickening pale with a violent flush over his cheeks, and dark rings under his eyes.

He sighed, it was gonna be a long day, they had a debrief planned for a heist, not until the next week, which he hoped whatever this was would clear up by then.

It was later than he usually got up, meaning almost everyone was up, Jet was usually already up by now, Vespa and Buddy woke up shortly after him, Rita was up around the same time as he was, and Juno slept the latest, not waking up for an hour or so after Rita, meaning he had about half an hour before his lady woke up.

He quickly got his makeup out, and speedily did it, namely ignoring the slight burning he felt from it, his skin did always get sensitive with fevers.

His body ached, more so than usual, a doctor had once described it as a condition which caused his nerves to fire near constantly, leaving him in constant pain, sometimes worse than other times.

He knew that, realistically, the illness would make the pain worse, meaning it would be harder to hide both conditions from the crew as he had been doing.

Juno had only found his cane, which he refused to use, once, when he was sleeping in Nureyev’s cabin while looking for an extra blanket due to the chilliness of the Carte Blanche, and Peter was able to brush it off as something from an old disguise and a joke about old age.

Juno seemed to believe him, and for that he was thankful.

With his makeup done, he quietly slipped back into his cabin, where Juno laid sleeping sound, to grab his clothing, choosing a comfortable button-down and a pair of loose-fitting dress pants, much more laid back than his usual attire, and he prayed it wouldn’t turn any heads.

Peter ran his hand through his hair, ignoring the heat he felt on his own head, and he stepped out of his room, slowly and painfully making his way to the kitchen.

“Good morning Peter, you’re up later than usual. Is everything alright?”

Buddy didn’t sound worried, probably just assumed he was slacking off.

“My apologies, Captain, I’m doing well.”

He was distantly aware he didn’t make much sense, but the layer of fog between him and everyone else made it a bit difficult to actually care.

Buddy nodded, but Peter noted that Vespa didn’t look convinced, understandable saying she was the ship’s Doctor of sorts.

He felt arms wrap around his stomach, and his lady rest his head against his back, still heavy with sleep.

“Goodmornin Mista Steel and Mista Ransom!”

Rita, energetic as always, bounced into the kitchen and sat on a stool at the table, and Jet placed a coffee before her, overloaded with cream and sugar, just how she liked it.

His beloved groaned into his back and nuzzled his dave further into his back.

“You both seem tired today, have a fun night?”

Juno groaned, and peter laughed softy, not having the energy to formulate a reply, and Juno slipped away quietly, sitting next to Rita as Jet handed him his own coffee, and Peter only mourned the loss of contact momentarily.

He sat next to Juno, and Jet handed him his usual drink of choice, which was a herbal tea with ungodly amounts of honey.

He smiled at the kind man, who nodded back gently, never one for expressions.

A shiver ran through him as he grasped the hot mug, and he hoped that no one saw it, all while the residential doctor was staring bullets through him.

Everyone split up after that, knowing they’d need to remeet for dinner and the debrief and a part of Peter wasn’t sure he’d make it that long.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by Juno, who was saying something but it wasn’t really touching his brain.

“Nureyev, what’s wrong with you today?”

Ah, so Juno was perhaps noticing something.

“Nothing, my dear, just a little tired.”

Juno didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it.

Peter excused himself quietly to practice his newest identity for the heist, but realistically he was just planning on sleeping the time until the debrief away.

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

Peter slept until he was awoken by a painful ache and burning feeling in his stomach, and he curled tighter into himself to try and avoid it.

He distantly remembered his time with Mag, how the few times he got sick, he was treated with a mix of soft comforts and angry lectures about how he was wasting time, how he’d never get anywhere like this.

He desperately tried to file these thoughts away, but was unable to, the images of Mags disappointed face, shifting into his bloodied body-

Peter whimpered and drew his blanket into his face, trying best he could to ignore the pain and ignore the crying he heard in his head.

The next thing he knew he was hanging over the side of his bed, heaving up a mix of his breakfast and bile, and he cried realizing what was happening.

He knew his attempts to move would make things worse, so he curled into a ball under the light blanket on his bed, and let himself fall into a fitful sleep.

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Juno knew something was off with Peter, and as a detective, he was going to get to the bottom of it.

He made an internal list, Peter seemed to have woken up later than normal, and when he had hugged him, his skin seemed unnaturally hot.

Nureyev was ill.

Probably very ill, from the looks of it.

Juno sighed and ran his hands through this hair, he was never the best at taking care of people.

When he was young and Ben was ill, he spent most of it worriedly pacing by his bedside and doing what ben did for him, and stealing from stores when he needed something.

The one time Rita was ill, she was predictably good at caring for herself, only needing him to go and get some stuff from the store for her, which he did and possibly went overboard.

And when he was ill, and anyone would take care of him, it was Rita.

Even when he was with Diamond, Rita would always know, he came into work anyway but she’d be sure to take care of him there, and ask if he wanted to stay with her instead of Diamond.

He paced nervously around his room, thinking about what to do.

He could go into Nureyev's room and demand he admits he was ill right now, or he could be strategic, even though that involved letting the thief burn himself out some until he let his guard down.

He painfully decided the ladder might be the best option, and in an attempt to distract himself, he hung out with Rita, watching streams and ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest.

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

It was dinner time on the Carte Blanche, and everyone was gathered in the kitchen.

Everyone except Peter.

Juno’s stomach dropped when he realized Peter wasn’t there, and he made eye contact with the rest of the crew, except for Jet who was pointedly avoiding it.

After a few seconds, a loud crash was heard from down the hallway, and within seconds they were all running down the hall to where it was.

Juno wasn’t usually the fastest runner, but when his love may have been involved he was incredibly fast, which is why he and Jet got there first.

Juno’s heart froze when he saw Nureyev, shaking and pale, in a pile of his own sick and covered in it unable to move.

Juno was hard to scare, but this did it for him.

“Fuck”

He crouched next to the ill thief, avoiding the pile of sick, and the ex-detective could feel the heat from him without even touching him.

Juno gathered his boyfriend into his arms as Vespa, Buddy and Rita ran into the room, Rita and Buddy stopping next to Jet, and Vespa joining Juno at Peter��s side.

“Fuck, he’s burning up.”

Vespa growled, as she held Peter’s limp wrist, checking for a pulse and temperature.

“I knew something was off why didn’t the idiot just tell us.”

Vespa was angry, understandably, she was a medic and she had threatened them all in the past if they kept something from her.

“Vespa, dear, why don’t we just take him down to the medbay and yell at him later on.”

Jet carried Peter to the medbay, where he was hooked up to an IV for hydration and given fever reducers, all by a grumbling Vespa, while Juno sat worriedly nearby.

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

Juno sat next to the thief’s bed, him having been moved back into his room after it had been cleaned, mostly due to the more comfortable bed.

It has been a long day and Juno was beyond exhausted, Nureyev was still asleep, not having moved since they found him.

“J’no?”

The ex-detective bolted up from where he was falling asleep, against his will, and looked around before his eye landed on the thief.

“Peter, oh thank god.”

Juno shifted, sitting on the side of the bed and running his hands through his love’s hair, checking his temperature and offering comfort.

“Hi, love, how do you feel?”

The sick man looked around, confused, and tired.

“What happen’d?”

Juno’s heart broke at the confusion and pain his boyfriend was in, a tenderness he didn’t know he was cable of feeling until today washed over him.

“You got sick, baby, we had to take you to the medbay and you have an IV, why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling well?”

Peter leaned into Juno’s hand, which was now on his cheek, and a look of guilt washed over him.

“Di’nt wanna bother you, busy and all that.”

Juno wiped a tear that slipped down Peter’s face, and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

“Baby, you’re always more important then anything we’re working on, I don’t care if you’re just a little sick, I wanna know so I can help you.”

Peter still looked guilty, and Juno slipped his slippers off, and climbed into the bed with the thief.

“Vespa will probably be by soon to check on you, you gave all of us a scare.”

As if on cue, someone knocked on the door and it opened to reveal Buddy, Vespa, Rita, and Jet standing behind it, Vespa with her medical kit, Buddy holding a tray of tea, Rita with snacks, and Jet with a stack of blankets and pillows.

“Hello darlings, we thought we’d keep you some company, some family time, hm?”

Vespa walked over, angry as always, and looked over the thief, who lay confused and half asleep, after a few moments, her posture eased and she moved to take out the IV.

Jet set the pillows and blankets on the ground, and Rita quickly organized them all into a pile, after safely handing the snacks to Jet, and Buddy set the tea on the nightstand, pouring a cup for everyone and adding honey to Peter’s.

She and her wife then sat in some chairs in the room, and Rita turned on the streams, and Peter fell asleep surrounded by his family.