#even if you pretend the monsters just a smudge on your glasses

[banannabethchase]

Got a migraine warning sign around 3 and didn't get home in time for the preventative ibuprofen so now it's just a matter of time.

[starkeristheendgame]

Hunter!Tony x Demon!Peter AU

Hunter!Tony binds Demon!Peter to himself in order to find the monster that murdered his late fiancée. Lead down roads he’d never imagined himself taking, Tony discovers that maybe revenge isn’t the only thing he’s hungry for.

TW/Tags: Supernatural AU | Enemies to something | Hurt/Comfort | Angst | Injury | Blood | Near-death experience | First kiss

“Is being a pervert part of the hiring process or are you just getting your money’s worth?”

Tony couldn’t see it, but he knew regardless that those plush lips would be pushed into a pout and those arched brows would be furrowed into a petulant scowl.

“If you’ve got me running around like your little errand boy, the least you could do is be nice to me,” a high, sweet voice simpered back. The face that belonged to it was just as youthful when it appeared in the mirror over his shoulder, watching him button his shirt with vested interest.

Tony didn’t deign to dignify it with a reply, staring down the pretty little monster until it let out a sigh.

“Fine. I have your lead. Arkansas, a seedy little dive known as the Dog Den.”

Something hot and rabid twisted in his gut and he had to pause his motions, hands trembling almost imperceptibly. It felt a lot like rage and a little bit like hope.

“Are you sure?”

Eyes the colour of fresh honey rolled so hard he could almost hear the muscles stretching. “No. I asked a magic eight-ball.”

He twisted with a snarl, reaching out. The ring on his finger pulsed with a molten orange glow and between slender wrists a chain that shimmered transparently flared to life, forming a delicate set of shackles no wider than if he’d wound a necklace there.

He curled a finger in the glowing links, dragging the Demon close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in those dark eyes. 

“I’m sure,” it repeated, softer, quieter, holding his gaze with wariness, but not fear.

He let the chain drop after a moment, grunting as he turned around and finished buttoning up his shirt. When he twisted to reach for the jacket the lithe figure was sprawled out on his bed, artfully arranged as the Demon flipped through a magazine Tony knew hadn’t been in his own bags.

“You know,” the Demon piped up again as he tucked in his shirt, “maybe if you smiled a little more, the ugly things in the dark wouldn’t try to kill you as much.”

“Shut up.”

“Not possible.”

“I’ll make it possible.”

“Oh, you always promise me a good time and never deliver.”

Despite himself, Tony found he had to wrestle fiercely with a smile. “Peter.”

That heady, dangerous gaze pinned itself to him again. He met it evenly, ignoring the thrum of his pulse. The Demon really couldn’t have picked a prettier vessel to take over, a smudge of parasitic darkness inside the prettiest packaging.

That pink little mouth opened like it was considering another witty retort, then closed. Instead the Demon - Peter, merely hummed and went back to flicking through his magazine, disinterestedly glossing over half-naked women and gossip scandals.

It was almost disconcerting. To look at the pretty little slip of a thing sprawled out on his bed like some rented whore and to know that behind that pretty face was a being of Hell’s creation. Something twisted and dark, a corrupted soul festering behind a distracting smokescreen.

Peter Parker was the sort of face Tony would’ve fallen for like a rock, if he hadn’t been the one to summon the Demon to the surface.

Perhaps that’s why the Demon had chosen such a nice outfit. A desperate bid not to get ganked the moment he crawled out of Hell.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” Peter sighed, turning a page idly. He’d rolled over onto his stomach now, jaw propped in his palm. 

“You can’t read minds. Don’t get comfortable, we’re leaving soon,” he grunted in reply, shrugging on a jacket.

“Can’t I just meet you there?” the Demon whined, looking up with (literally) sinful puppy eyes.

“No.”

He left it at that, flat and unforgiving, as he had to be. In another life he’d have fallen for that soft whine and that pleading look. Might’ve taken his shirt right off and crawled onto the bed, put that open mouth to good use.

But this was not that life, and that pretty face was stolen.

He checked all his things then reached out, plucking the gossip rag from Peter’s hands and throwing it in the trash. “Meet me at the car.”

“I was reading that,” Peter huffed indignantly, glowering up at him before he disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a dip in the bedspread and the scent of copper.

He was sprawled in the backseat when Tony made his out to the 1970 Challenger he called his own, a set of stylish shades covering his eyes, fluffy hair unkempt and arms folded behind his head.

“Feet off the upholstery,” he huffed as he turned the key, swinging the car out of the parking lot and onto the road with a loud rumble of the engine.

“I know for a fact you sleep in this car and my shoes are clean,” Peter answered primly, angling his head towards the open window and the warmth of the morning sun.

Arkansas was a three day drive. They spent the first in almost complete silence, although the Demon did sulk when they stopped for gas and Tony declined to buy him anything. Rather than waste money on another motel he pulled onto a quiet patch of land behind a thicket of trees, settling across the bench seat with a sigh.

“Fuck off and come back in the morning.”

“Eloquent as ever,” Peter griped, leaning over the seat, arms folded and chin atop them. He looked laughably angelic in the darkness, all soft edges, voice quiet enough that a mouse wouldn’t flee it.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, and when Tony cracked open an eye to repeat his command, he was gone.

Gone, until he thumped his fist on the window at the ass-crack of dawn, looking chipper and cheerful, Starbucks cup in hand. “Up and at ‘em, sunshine! The monsters aren’t gonna hunt themselves!”

Tony considered stabbing him there and then, but Peter was unfortunately an asset he couldn’t afford to lose. Invaluable, as much as it stroked the Demon’s ego. He settled for glaring, baring past the Demon as he stomped off to relieve himself. 

The next two nights went much the same, although Peter got chattier the more bored he became. Fiddled with the radio, disappeared for moments only to return holding an ‘interesting’ leaf or rock, scooped up from the side of the road Tony had just driven past.

Arkansas was crisp and bright and dewy in the mid-weeks of spring. It was so different from the New York of his youth, with it’s towering glass jungle and concrete pillars. It was a visceral reaction to think of the scent of flowers and clean air in Sicily, of pink lipstick smudged on his jaw, a laugh fading slowly, overtaken by the rumble of the engine.

Countryside became a smattering of industrialisation, bars and houses, garages and stores. He wanted to keep on going, chase that tail until he caught it and tore it off, but he knew better than to rush in half-blind.

He had to eat something proper. Had to rest. Had to learn everything he could from the paltry little stack of papers that Peter had given him, printed out at a library miles and miles back in the time it had taken Tony to piss and buy a bottle of water at a gas station.

Food, first. 

The diner was like every other. Gaudy and cheap with food that was more grease than nutrition. Peter’s nose scrunched the moment they entered and he looked nonplussed when they were guided to a booth.

The Demon made a big show of pulling out a pack of wipes from the pocket of his fitted jacket, scrubbing the table as the waitress listed off the day’s specials. Tony rolled his eyes before ordering coffee and a slap-up breakfast, about to dismiss the waitress when Peter cut in with a saccharine smile. 

“Bacon too, please. Crispy. And a milkshake. Thanks a bunch, darling.”

She arched her brows but made no comment, glancing at Tony before leaving. Then it was Tony’s turn to stare and quirk his brow, watching the Demon shrug lightly. 

“What? I get cravings.”

Peter fiddled with a napkin as they waited, as Tony read through the sheets of paper. Folding it over and over into a little crane that he perched atop the salt shaker. 

“Where did you even learn origami?” Tony grunted, watching it sway before it stabilised. Peter’s gaze flicked up to him and there was something unexpected there. A hollowness, heavily guarded but flickering in the gold of his irises even so. 

“Even the worst of the worst need hobbies, hunter,” he uttered softly, and then their food arrived and they were lost to the silence that overcame those sating their hunger. Peter ate with an almost childlike manner, easily distracted, toying with his straw before each sip. He even swung his legs a little and drummed his fingertips on the table top.

The perfect performance.

He looked away.

Peter was unusually quiet after that, subdued as they made their way to a motel relatively close to the Dog Den. He didn’t even pester the receptionist or try to embarrass Tony by pretending to be some sort of rent boy as he purchased a key, eyeing the Demon consideringly.

When Tony slipped beneath the sheets Peter disappeared without argument, offering only a mock salute before he flickered and was gone, leaving nothing but a wisp of dark smoke.

He wondered where the Demon went. Back to Hell? Some run-down library to read through the night? An empty motel room to pilfer their cable connection?

The disconcertion over Peter’s silence left him the next day, when he commanded Peter to steer clear as he got dressed to hit their lead.

“You can’t go alone,” Peter announced, frowning.

“I can and I am. You’ll just attract attention,” Tony pointed out, shrugging on another flannel and tucking the flask of holy water against his belt.

“And if you die?” Peter shot back. It surprised his brows into lifting as he met the Demon’s gaze, tipping his head.

“Then you’ll be free of your bindings and there’ll be one less hunter ganking your friends. What’s the problem?”

Peter’s mouth opened, then closed, as if he was only suddenly remembering that he wasn’t in this little dynamic duo willingly.

“I get the Challenger if you die,” the Demon said instead, turning away from.

And maybe Tony should’ve thought more about that demand, because the only thing he could think of as he lay bleeding in the middle of the woods several long hours later was that Peter would most definitely get the car all scratched up and dirty.

Demons had no respect for vehicle maintenance. 

He coughed wetly and grunted, pressing a hand to his bleeding chest. They wouldn’t, he supposed. Demons could just fly everywhere.

Peter had adamantly argued it was not teleportation.

He breathed out a sigh and shifted fumbling for his wallet. His fingers smeared blood against the white edges of the crumpled photograph in there and he stared at his wife’s smile, frozen in time and taken just days before a Demon on a murder kick had burnt her soul up from within her, along with their unborn daughter.

“I’d say see you soon, but. W’both know m’goin’ to Hell, not where you are,” he told her image softly, giving it a weary, slow smile.

“Hell would ask for a refund,” came a familiar voice, and moments later there were warm hands on his jaw, tilting his head up. “You stupid bastard. I told you not to go alone. I could feel there was someone stronger in this town!”

Peter’s eyes were wide and round, plump lower lip between his teeth as he dropped his gaze, eyeing where Tony was slowly leaking his insides all over his outsides. “Shit,” the Demon breathed softly.

Tony made an agreeable sound. Shit was about right. He’d run head first into the messy, gruesome end that almost every hunter found themselves at. The end of the road; the final curtain; bleeding out somewhere at the hands of something twisted and ugly and evil.

“Guess you get th’car,” he rasped, aiming for humorous. It fell short when he blanched and more hot fluid slid down his throat and his chest, pooling at his navel. 

“Shut up,” Peter growled at him, letting go of his head to pull up his shirt. His fingertips were light, but it still felt like fire. Hot and licking over everything he touched. “God, you’re so fucking stupid. I told you to take me. I told you I should go.”

“C’n you save th’gloatin’ ‘till I’m dead?” he asked, frowning. Most hunters probably didn’t get this much conversation on their deathbeds.

Peter shot him a positively scathing look, pressing down hard on the wound. It made agony flare up his torso, smothering his pathetic yell of pain into a weak, thready rasp.

“This is gonna hurt us both,” the Demon muttered, looking inexplicably angry as he settled his palms flat atop the worst of the wound. A muted sound was all Tony could manage, watching the Demon with hazy confusion.

For a moment, nothing happened. 

Or at least, Tony didn’t notice it happening. 

But then a strange, new type of pain began to lance through him, battling against the numbing burn of his torn organs. It crept through his veins and branched out, a tingling, almost electric sensation that had him tensing as best as his broken body would let him.

He opened his mouth and if he’d had the energy left for it he’d have reeled in surprise when Peter leaned forwards, slotting their mouths together firmly.

The Demon’s lips were soft and plush, with the faintest trace of soda. His lips were warm, too, just a breath above what would be normal for a person. 

Tony almost didn’t know what he should be recoiling at the most; kissing a Demon, or kissing what was for all intents and purposes a sixteen year old.

Peter didn’t try to do anything else and Tony realised in the timeframe that he’d been internally broiling over the situation, breathing had become easier.

The fire was dulling to a simmer; a slow ember that still ached but no longer made him feel like he had one foot in the gates of Hell. His breath hitched and Peter pulled back slowly, keeling to one side slightly and almost falling over as he drew away.

His eyes were pools of inkblack, shiny and void as the Demon sucked in his own rattled breath, pulling shaking hands away from Tony’s torso.

He let his gaze fall slowly to his chest. He was still covered in blood, but the flesh there looked smooth and unmarred. Where he was once carved open like a pot hole there was once again closed off muscle and flesh.

He looked up in surprise. Peter was on his knees, hands braced on his thighs as he rode out the strain of wrangling his leashed powers. His eyes were slowly returning to the human hue, red-rimmed as if he’d been crying, plump lips downturned.

Tony licked his own, jerked straight back into the sensation of Peter’s mouth on his.

“Why?” he demanded roughly, bringing a hand to subconsciously touch his chest.

Peter shot him a sidelong look, the effect slightly dampened by the way he looked vaguely sick.

“A thank you might be nice,” the Demon sneered at him, huffing a twisted curl from his eyes as Tony pushed himself to his feet, ungainly and uncoordinated. Bracing himself on a tree, Tony stared down at the Demon.

At Peter, who’d saved his life. Against all he stood to benefit from Tony’s death, against all that he’d done his best to kill him when he first discovered he’d been shackled to Tony. 

Coughing, Tony did his best to pull his shredded shirt closed before he made a rough gesture. “Get up. You’ll have to take us back to the motel. My car’s still at the bar.” Smashed up or stolen, he realised with a pang of sadness and anger.

“Oh no, lover-boy. You’ve been keeping me at half-mast all year. One night of fun has done me in for the night. I’m limp - get your own ride into town.”

Tony glowered, but all his frowning and snapping proved fruitless. Peter’s powers had been bound tight for almost a year and he really was burnt out, looking every inch as young as his vessel as he wobbled to his feet. The most he managed them was a few meters down the road when he tried.

It took them until sunrise to come close enough to the town that Tony could hotwire a car from the side of the road, ditching it a reasonable way from the motel and wiping it down with a clean patch of his shirt to get rid of his fingerprints.

He wasn’t bothered about Peter’s. Peter had mentioned having this particular vessel for over fifty years - his prints would be written off as a glitch on the system.

He went straight for the shower, scrubbing his skin pink as he tried to sleuth off the memory of being cut open, of dying alone in the dark and the cold, certain that this was his one-way ticket downstairs.

Brushed his teeth; trying to rid himself of the guilt that came with realising that the kiss had been pleasant, to a degree. Soft, pink skin, the sweetness of a soda consumed while Tony had been-

He shut off the water.

When he stepped out, Peter was actually curled up in the bed, looking almost infantile with the covers pulled up to his jaw. He seemed only half-awake, barely stirring when Tony entered the room. He was pulling on a new shirt when Peter spoke, voice sleepy and quiet.

“My Uncle taught me.”

Tony paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“Origami,” Peter clarified softly. “You asked me. At the diner. Where I’d learned origami. My Uncle taught me when I was thirteen.”

Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, Tony took a light seat on the edge of the bed, each of them facing a separate wall. He was quiet for a little while, digesting the information.

“Thank you for saving me,” he grunted after a moment, uncomfortable with the intimacy of the words. It wasn’t anything he’d ever thought he’d say to a Demon. Peter had gotten him out of scrapes and healed up wounds before, but always under command and never anything so serious.

Desperate to rein back some control, he slid under the sheets and stared up at the ceiling. “If you ever kiss me again, I’ll use thread soaked in holy water and sew your mouth shut.”

Irritatingly, Peter snorted. “That was hardly a kiss.”

“You’re in a snot-nosed brat’s body, what would you know about kissing?” Tony shot back, brows pinching into a frown.

“This,” Peter huffed at him, rolling over and on top of him.

Tony blamed the fact that he didn’t pull away on simply being too tired to.

[muffindaddystyles]

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐲/𝐧) 𝐱 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟!!!

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞

Being a university kiddo isn't a joke you're one of it's victim and how insensitive it will sound but you worked as paparazzi because you were literally going homeless.

One buzzy night when Harry was just having a light environment get together with four of his friends in his London's home you were practically managing your bum on his kitchen's windows deck which was providing you the clear view of them just chillin' out.

You felt bad. A horrible person who goes on invadilating people's life but you've a contract of one more month and they need random ass photos of celebrities specifically Harry, else they'll conduct your money for which you worked late nights three months prior.

Your hands shook and you were about to tumble back into his garden many times because Harry had a great loving role in your life, you've been admiring him for years and this's completely out of your line. And you know he has a bodyguard who's monstrously taller than you and wouldn't take a second to kick you into jail.

An idiolising smile quirked up your lips seeing him in good mood sipping on his margaritas and you sigh debating whether you should do it or not.

You muttered a "fuck it" before snapping purposedly blurry photos and you were about to carefully jump down when your feet went into wrong place.

You tried to hold in your shriek when you rolled over the sink counter first then onto the floor, the fall was so painful it made you saw stars but you didn't cry even though they were fighting to spill out.

Everyone's head snapped at the chaos and Harry abruptly stood up striding towards the kitchen.

With the help of dining chair you were on your feet with a groan and you've a bleeding lip too. Harry's angry voice boomed through the walls, "What the actual fuck!?" He tilts his head towards you questioningly and you wrap yourself in your arms shrinking at his fierceness.

Now tears slipping down your cheeks like a never ending waterfall and you tried not to hiccup, sob or whimper.

"Who the hell are ya?" He's pissed. His friends remained quite watching the scenario from the living room and he's kinda feeling remorseful because a dainty girl in flared denims and a 𝙵.𝚁.𝙸.𝙴.𝙽.𝙳.𝚂 tee-shirt with blazing red embarrassed cheeks soaked with innocent tears, her protecting herself just from her arms from Harry as if he'll hurt her and lip bleeding so badly Harry was about to rush her to his washroom to clean it up.

But all in the end he kept his guard strong. Because this's from many times his privacy was being invalidated.

"I-m's...m'so sorry, Harry." You hiccuped in between your breaths and He arches his brows for if you got any further explanation for your actions.

"I'm not gonna lie to you. I was capturing your pictures sneakily from this window and w-when I was bout to go, slipped." He kind of found it cute how you said 'slipped' at the end but he let it go, before he would've said another thing you continued hastily.

"I just hate doing this. Hate invadilating people's privacy but I really really need money...you know..." You sob out gesticulating with your hands and everyone including Harry felt broken for you, "...I never wanted to do this. Never took single one of you since I've started this pathetic job and when I asked them that I want to leave they told me I can't until next month." At this Harry sighed loudly combing his hair back taking your arm and making your shaking body sit at the chair.

You couldn't stop sobbing. You feel so fuckin' pathetic you want to just kill yourself at the moment because everything's crashing down onto you just when you were infront of Harry Styles after sneaking on him, "Th-they told me that they need your pictures specifically else they'd conduct my money from previous." Harry pinches his bottom lip listening to you with full attention, his gaze a bit concerned.

"That's very disgustin' of them." He spats bitterly new-profound hatred for agencies enveloping him, "m..I'm so sorry. I'll delete 'em right infront of you." Your brought your camera infront of him with trembling hands but he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you.

"S'okay. I don't care, jus' have 'em and throw it to their faces." You shook your head and Harry's amused how caring you're for him even though you guys have never met, now he feels bad for shouting at you "no, please my morals will eat me alive. Can't do this to you." rubbing the back of your nose and in doing so you irritated your lips fingers getting all bloody. You didn't noticed you were bleeding until at the moment and your eyes widened. You hate blood it makes your nerves crawl.

"Oh my goodness." You gasp horrifically fingers vigorously trembling as you raised them to look at them clearly, your skin drained paler and Harry quickly stood up taking you with him to sink.

"S'okay, we all do mistakes sometimes. But you need it right now....can you duck down a little??" He asks you at the end while talking to you to divert your mind from the gor imaginations you were having in your brain.

He cups the water from running faucet bringing it to your lips cleaning your mouth with gentle rub of his soothing palms. His hands are calloused soft like cotton candy that tingles when it fuses on your tongue.

"I know what you're doin' isn't one of your very proud job but I can help you. Just take these pictures and ask me fo' more if they send you again until they set you free." He again makes you sit at the chair and you've calmed down better from before.

"S'not a big deal fo' me it's jus' pictures. I get annoyed when they're taken without m'permission." One his friends bought him a bottle of vaseline and he 'thanked' them before dipping his index inside the petroleum jelly, smudging it over your lips. You hissed at a certain nib and he gently shushed you, "Thank you Harry." You whispered bottom lip wobbling and he scrunched his nose at your cuteness.

"I really thought your tall bodyguard will drag me to jail." At first he thought you weren't serious but the frown and long stare of yours to his orange polished nails caused his heart to crack into pieces.

The thought of you getting scared like this multiple times, getting shouted and cursed at by celebrities, sometimes getting injured like this incident made him well...sad for you.

He stroked the back of your knuckles which are bruised too. He chuckled coarsely through his regret trying to lift the mood, "now..m'not that of a monster." He drawled out eyes flickering all over your head playfully which's lowered into shame.

You sniffled giggling through your tears standing up quickly, "I-should probably go. sorry once again...I'll try my best not to ever disturb you again." You bowed a little in an apologising way and Harry wanted to ask you to have a glass of milk to soothe the sting of your lip. He kinda wanted you to clash to him at sometimes again once he was out of his haze at what just happened.

"No problem, stay safe darlin'." He smiles at you and you at him this time he escorted you out through his main door. All his friends had a good laugh at what just happened; a girl almost breaking her bones in Harry's kitchen and him shouting at her only to scold her at the end to be careful when you sneak inside someone's house.

"Heyyyy." He throws his head annoyed when his friends found his timidness funny, "she was a nice lady, jus' little trapped into her situation."

The next week you were on his door this time knocking, one more guy waiting for you to bring Harry's pictures at the backstreet.

"Heya!" He was extra chirpy today no-wonder he had an album coming, "sorry." You muttered raising the camera that he would look at it clearly he got it what you want and grinned at you ushering you inside.

"S'alright. What do you wan' me to do?" You giggled when he made different postures one like an english girl, hand on his hip, arse in air and arm above his head enthusiastically.

"Not any of that, they should look random."

"Okay then. Move to m'garden." With a small hand on your waist he guided you to the same garden you sneaked in his house that day, "just pretend like you're doing something script-y type you know. You've an album comin' right?" He nods shushing his butterflies when you used your own words like 'script-y'.

He rushed to grab his journal sitting on stool pretending like he's writing something on it and both of you guffawed out breathily when your camera's snaps echoed, "perfect. Thank you Harry." You walked back inside and he was shining like a chime under lilac sun.

"Can I hug you?" You asked for his permission and he slinged his arm around you hugging you close to him. He was in love with your scent. It's roses and fresh water as if you bathed in rosy milk.

"Have a cup of tea, with me?" He asked you politely but you smiled, "another time. that piggy assistant of my agency is waiting for me at the backstreet."

"Didn't wanted him to know your address." You muttered swaying from one feet to another and Harry's eyes widened in amusement. He again hugged you taking you a bit by surprise but you wrapped your arms around his neck tipping on your toes for the proper embrace.

.

To that day and this you're his best friend more than that too living with him in his house because you just moved out from uni's dormetary and there was no good place to live so he offered you to live with him until.

It's been an YEAR now you're living along him because even though none of you wants to deny it you both kinda got addicted to eachother's presence and now it's hard to let go.

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑢𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒.

He drags you to his friend's parties even though you feel so out of them. You remember when one time he practically threw you over his shoulder and in his car to a party at Kendall's house.

You were fuming for two reasons. First you were litreally in your pyjamas and bunny slip-ons, second Kendall recognized you and said in that mock tone "are you the same paparazzi girl that tripped while sneaking on me, right?" Harry was...well he didn't liked it at all. You're his bestfriend that he's wishing to keep for lifetime and he knows that phase of your life was the dying need of yours.

You weren't angry neither did you hide it. You nodded at her with sheer embarrassment in your eyes and you didn't had to tell Harry before he was taking both of you into his car driving home.

"Wish I could just remove that part of my life." You murmured sitting crossed legs on the wine rugged floor and Harry's head perked up at that while he handed you the glass of milk and cookies taking you in his lap.

"We all have that part in our life, don't care." You squished your face in the crook of his neck while he stroked your hair cooing softly into your ear, "moppet don't be sad, m'sorry. S'my fault." He kisses your head with little pecks and you giggled when he purposedly fanned his breath under your earlobe where you're most ticklish.

"Wanna play poker?" He pulls you and you bobbed your head.

He always do this. Always knows how to lift up your mood when the work load's sometimes too much. You guys give eachother's massages even though yours used to be so brutal but he didn't even said a word until one day you offered Sarah one and she squealed in a hiss.

He laughed it off as you looked at him horrified that you never cared if the massage was okay, blowing hits at him while he asked Jeff to stop you only to kiss your forehead when you pouted at him.

Both of you've feelings for eachother. Hardcore one but you refuse to let them out too scared to ruin what you've.

You guys fart in eachother's presence and take a piss with open doors. You guys are that close. When you're sprawled onto his bed without any conscious because he fucked you mercilessly last night and if the next morning you get periods making a whole damn map of Antarctica onto his white sheets he just wakes up gently not to startle you, sits you on couch for a moment quickly changes his sheets and tells you that he has brought pads, chocolates and teas for you hands you your panties ushering you inside the washroom.

You're so thankful for him. For his presence. His care for you and you just wants to return it, so you do in the form of endless cuddles at night, drunk deep talks at the rooftop, three kisses in total because he likes no more less than three before going to sleep. Making sure his coffee's perfectly brewed in the morning and you guys have enough maple syrup for his likeness.

You sometimes knits him cute balled shape gloves and bakes cookies for him, sometimes brings him dinner while you're with your girlfriends.

You guys are so domestic and in love but with friends tag that none of you've figured your feelings out.

You brought a date at home once. Drunkly kissing that guy but it was all ruined when that guy broke Harry's vase that you gifted him once. It woke Harry up and he wasn't even tiny bit of pleased with your swollen lips, watery eyes and black dress showing excessively more than he wanted.

The guy was litreally shocked to see Harry Styles walking out of one of the rooms and excused himself from you as if he saw the ghost.

He sternly arched his brow while you fumbled with your rings which are his's btw, there was a whole lecture of how you went to clubbing with your girls and came back with some random cheap guy, that you shouldn't drink so much because you forget how to function and that how sickly he was worried for you but you didn't picked his phone.

But when you opened your mouth for a good excuse he raised his index in the air shushing you like a daddy would do, "not under my roof, y/n" then when you complained you're a person too and desires sex. He grabbed your jaw smashing his lips on yours in a fervent kiss and fucked you raw against the leather wall of his living room with your dress still on.

From that day you're friends with extra benefits anyone could ask for.

Today he's out with his boys for a football match. You were watching friends reruns, your stuff toy under your armpit and the bowl full of popcorns in your lap. Everything was running when you drifted to deep sleep on the couch only to be woken up again due to loud impatient knocks.

Harry at the door shifting from one leg to another tucking his jeans down from over his crotch and you yawned loudly, "Harry? game's ov-" but you were cut off when grabbed your neck thumb under your ear and tilted his chin to kiss you deeply.

"So, fuckin' hard..." He hissed against your lips in urgency shutting the door with his feet and scurrying both of you to couch, "please pretty girl suck me off, want that so bad." He whined requesting nicely and you sighed rubbing sleep from your eyes.

"Okay then you owe me a breakfast in morning." He bobbed his head taking your hand to make you sit in between his legs, "anythin' fo' m'darlin'." He hissed grunting at the end throwing his head back on the cushions and your lips quirked up.

"Sure you went to watch football not porn?" You unzipped his fly and he raised his hips kissing your lips wetly, "what got my tarzan so rock hard, hmm?" You mumbled against his lips sucking at his bottom lip yanking his black jeans down till his ankles.

"You, please you." He whimpered when you palmed his visible prodding bulge through his boxers and the blush crept up your cheeks at his blabbering.

Sitting crossed-legs in between his open wide legs you stroked the inside of his thighs and he bucked his hips grinding his bulge agaisnt your face.

His thick member hit his lower abdomen when you fred it from his boxers, you raised a little elbows digging into his thighs tucking your nose under his eternity to lick his balls fondling with them.

"Oh fuck!" You pinned his hips down lazily taking your previous position, he's heavy and thick in your palm as you pumped him through lazy strokes.

You're extra clumsy when you wake up from sleep so your hands shook. the crown of his cock nudging your lips and chin making him moan out loud and he clenched his fingers from avoiding to just grab your cheeks and fuck your mouth.

"Yes. Pet daddy's little petal just take me, yeah?" He pushed your hair back making an eye contact with you and nodded you licked his head that sent him grunting.

You put your chin on his thigh near his knee looking at him with doe eyes admiring him when he was fully inside your mouth, "takes me so well, fuck." His hands maneuvered into your hair other lacing with yours ontop of his other thigh.

He pinched his eyes when you drooled all over his cock cheeks going shallow as you tried to suck some of your saliva down, you're lazy and in no mood to do some work so you murmured against his cock while tugging it furiously.

"Fuck my mouth daddy." You didn't had to say twice when he fisted your hair around his palm putting you in your place and fucking your mouth with speedy snaps of his hips.

"So fuckin' sloppy. Love it when ye' give me sloppy filthy heads." You hummed around him gagging when he pushed his cock to your throat pulling back to stroke him over your tongue when he saw your teary eyes, "hmm. not gonna last." His tummy with ferns rippled with ecastasy and you patted his thigh to give you access to his balls.

Your drool was tricking down till his base so you smudged it massaging his heavy blue balls getting his little whimpers in return and a "fuck baby. fuck me, please." You kept on fondling with his balls and the soft skin of his thighs palming his pelvis.

"Gonna cum in your mouth." You squeezed his hand eyelashes fluttering while he writhed under you and the last thrust of him inside your mouth caused him to fill your mouth with his cum.

With a whine he pulled out from your mouth and your eyes glinted as you straddled up his lap cradling his soft baby face in your hands. Moaning when he kissed you how lovers do, after that it was all sloppy you kissing him and you riding him throwing your head back giving him opportunity to splash blues on your throat to mark you his's.

"Oh daddy." You whimpered as he stretched his palm over your arched back your pelvis slapping his in an erotic noise. He was smiling at you litreally a genuine one.

He loves you so much. He knows you love him and he has thought of confessing it to you many times but he's scared to ruin what you've already have too precious.

"C'mon baby that's it, yeah there?" He circled your clitoris in pleasuring motions whispering in your ear, "use daddy." You moaned out sweetly holding his shoulders and before you know you hit the deep end of your pleasure in waves and kept on cumming while he kept on fucking you to your high.

"Ah!" You gasped alluringly when you came another time thrashing into his hold that he had to grasp the nape of your neck from falling back resting your temples against eachother.

"I-" 𝐼 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. But he gulped his words back pecking your lips, "Is my baby sleepy?" He pouts at you pawing at your hips and you hummed letting your head fall onto his chest.

He slept in your bed that night after taking care of you, he didn't blinked taking in your afterglow, stroking the apple of your cheeks with the back of his knuckles, pecking your lips featherly murmuring sweet nothings he doesn't have guts to say to you when you are awake.

You all invited Harry's friends to have a breakfast at your guys home. Your living room was crowding with laughters and giggly chats as you flipped pancakes.

Everyone's head snapped at someone particular stepping inside the living room, they all smiled at her and she hugged Harry almost kissing him on his lips. You were busy inside reminiscing another story of you to Sarah of you playing poker with Harry and him loosing to you treating you with your favourite chocolates.

One of your friends came inside with pity eyes and when you questioned her with the the tilt of your head she shook her head smiling at you.

Your beaming grin vanished when your eyes fell over Harry with his arm slinged over a women with blonde hair and fuckin' beautiful you could've ever imagined.

"Meet y/n my bestfriend. We live together." He told her proudly and her smiled wavered into frustrated one.

"Hi." You greeted her shyly ignoring the fact you're hurting so bad, "c'mon have a seat." You ushered her gulping the cobweb of tears when she took your seat one beside Harry but you shrugged it off sitting along Mitch.

You gathered everyone here with the thought of you maybe sharing the idea that you should move out but now it's decided that you indeed's moving out. This's your jealousy and hurt all in one decision.

"Guys..." You cleared your throat voice as if nothing's happening to you replacing the haze in your irirses with playfullness.

When you got everyone's attention you announced "I'm moving out." making Harry choke on his waffles, "no the fuck you're not." He grunted as the girl he brought with him made him sip his water.

"We need to talk." He spoke curtly and everyone looked at both of you with curiosity. They all want you to be together so bad.

"Harry-" You hissed when he dragged you inside the kitchen like a child you pouted your lower lip craning your head not to look at him, "what the fuck you're talkin' you never discussed it before hand with me?"

"I think it's time for me to move out." You whispered bottom lip wobbling and he's connecting dots on your hasty decision, "not when I exist." He said smugly trapping you between the counter and him.

"Does it matter? Go back to your girl." You muttered pinching your nose and he stepped back looking at you as if you grew two heads.

He laughed loudly holding his sides bending and slamming the counter. "What." You murmured and he pointed at you shutting his eyes tight.

"You're jealous." You quickly smacked his arm saying in high pitch, "no. I'm not!!" You squealed surprisingly when he grabbed you harshly and everyone's ears outside perked up either thinking you guys are fighting or fucking.

He cupped your cheeks kissing you with amiablity that only lovers hold for eachother, murmuring with a whine inside your mouth with each nibble "but baby you're my girl."

You looked at him accusingly and he scrunches his nose at how adorable you're looking being angry at him, "you're always gonna be my baby even the mother of my babies." You scoffed not knowing if he's joking with you.

His eyes hooded with affection and he again cupped your neck tilting your chin to his level by his thumbs, "m'serious y/n. I love you so fuckin' much." You gasped loudly which was caught by his parted lips.

"You do?" You're feeling like it's a dream. "I do very much." He pecked your lips again and again making you sob at the same counter you sobbed when you first had him.

"I love you too." Harry's heart forget to breath when he heard those words in your sweetness and he pushed you closer to him murmuring in your hair, "say it again."

"I love you. Love you. Love you. Love-" But you were cut off when he kissed you deeply with a whine never letting you go.

He explained you that the new guest's just one of his friend's friends she forced them to hang out even though they protested and with him tucking you under his armpit you both stepped outside of kitchen.

"We're together." You announced loudly and all of the people at table rolled their eyes.

"You guys were from litreally two years." They teased you but after that showered you in hugs and kisses.

Life's good with Harry.

[someonestolemyshoes]

Toys Shouldn’t Move

This is a repost of an old.....frankly chaotic fic I wrote a few years ago, but as I was asked to repost some of my old Ackerbabies fics, I figured this one can see the light of day again. Whether I think it should be in the public eye again is. Debatable. 

Anyway, this is technically part of my Our House collection and I’ll archive it in there as well, but I figured since it’s, um, Different. It can have a place of it’s own too!! 

Warning: Non-graphic depictions of sex between inanimate(?) objects. 

They’re getting ready for bed when Levi brings it up, and he only thinks to mention it because Hange is wearing a slip of a nightie, the cool, thin silk see-through at the breast, riding high over her thighs. On any normal day he wouldn’t hesitate, but today he feels dirty. He freezes when her finger grazes over the skin of his chest, body rigid, and at Hange’s questioning gaze he says, “the Cookie Monster fucked Elmo.”

It all started with that fucking Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster toy.

Levi wasn’t fond of them, those fuzz-coated, boggle-eyed, shit-your-pants scary robots marketed to brats as young as his own and he can’t see the attraction, doesn’t understand the way Samson claps his hands and spits his laughs, all wide-eyed and full of joy as the fluffy little demon chuckles it’s weird, demonic laughter and rocks in time to the wriggle of Samson’s grubby, tickling fingers.

“Toys shouldn’t move,” he says one day, arms crossed and brow furrowed as Hange takes to the floor and sets the doll in motion. She rolls her eyes, and puffs a lock of hair from her face.

“Say hello to the twenty-first century, short stuff,” she says as Samson dives for the Cookie Monster with a kind of undignified gusto Levi rarely sees in him. Hange stretches to her feet, bends to press a kiss to Levi’s pouted mouth and scoops Leelu out of her chair.

“If this is the twenty-first century, I want out.”

Leelu stretches tiny, sticky fingers and grabs at the air in his direction. Levi lifts her out of Hange’s grip, and settles her on his hip, smudging a streak of chocolate from her cheek with his thumb. She points down at Samson, points at the god-forsaken toy and says, loud and clear and bossy as ever, “want one.”

Hange barks out a laugh, rests her hands on her hips and tips her chin up and guffaws, entirely at Levi’s expense, like there is anything remotely funny about the idea of having not one, but twoTickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster’s shrieking their laughter all day, every day, for the foreseeable future. Levi chucks Leelu’s cheek and scowls.

“Little traitor.”  

**

In the end, they compromise.

On the plus side, no more Cookie Monster robots, and upon hearing those words Levi is about as happy as he can be with Leelu sucking the ends of his cravat between her tiny little teeth.

Instead, though, Leelu will receive her very own Elmo Live – in short, another hairy, beastly little android.

Hange unpacks the box while Leelu watches, eyes wide behind little, round-lens glasses, while Samson pulls tiny tufts of fur from his Cookie Monster and pretends he isn’t looking, too. Levi sips a cup of strong tea, resigned to this fate.

The minute the batteries are in and the switch is flicked on, Elmo rockets to life, voice high and nasal. He throws his head back and laughs, mouth gaping, eyes bulging, and Levi stares over the rim of his tea cup in horror as Leelu beats her palms together, and giggles along with the monstrous toy. Hange is smiling, wide and victorious and yes, a little malicious, too. She casts her eyes to the side, to Levi.

“I hate it,” Levi says, stiffly, blinking at the manic red bot. “I hate it so much.”

And then the Cookie Monster is off alongside it, bending at the waist and gyrating, busting out it’s awful laughter as Samson shrieks, nudges it to set it away again. Elmo is chatting with his mouth spread as wide as it goes, an empty, black pit yawning inside and oh my god, oh my god.

Levi thinks, as Hange steps behind him to rest her chin atop his head and the diabolical sniggering continues, that things absolutely, 100% cannot possibly get any worse.

**

Levi thought wrong.

It’s when he’s packing the day away that he realises his misjudgment. He crosses the room, scooping toy cars and Barbie dolls and Lego pieces from the floor and throwing them into the toy box, and on his final leg of the room, there they are.

They stand side by side, Elmo and the Cookie Monster, bulbous white eyes watching his approach. His hands are tentative as he reaches for them, half expecting the evil little bastards to spring to life in his palms, wriggling and chuckling, but they remain still even as he closes his fingers around their fat, hairy middles.

They remain silent as he carries them across the room, don’t utter a sound as he traps Elmo beneath an arm to make some room in the toy box, stay quiet as he drops them into place.

It’s only when he steps back, and turns to survey the room one more time that it happens.

The Cookie Monster starts it. His infernal laughter rips through the room making Levi jump, twisting and staring in absolute horror as the tiny beast’s body rests where he’d placed it, curled against the back of Elmo, chortling and grumbling phrases Levi can’t even understand and this is bad enough, this is the worst, most terrible thing he has ever witnessed in his whole life, bar none.

And then Elmo joins in.

Elmo shrieks, throws his mouth open and howls and the sounds are terrible enough, but there is one thing that is even worse.

Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster has one feature that interests and amazes kids, that has Samson’s eyes bugging out of his skull whenever he turns the damn thing on, and it isn’t his laughter, it isn’t his jolly little phrases, and it isn’t his touch-of-a-hand reactions.

It’s that he moves.

TMX Cookie Monster bends at the waist in jerky little movements; three down, and three back up, lather, rinse, repeat. It’s horrifying enough, watching the fuzzy blue devil do this alone, but right now his fat little body is curling and uncurling itself pressed right up against Elmo’s back.

And Elmo is still screeching, still belting out his laughter, head knocked back and mouth agape and Jesus Christ—  

“They’re fucking,” Levi says to no one, staring at the toys where they sit in the box.

He is hasty to find the off-switch, and he drops them back in the box, shocked and speechless, before shaking his head and abandoning the room.

They’re getting ready for bed when Levi brings it up, and he only thinks to mention it because Hange is wearing a slip of a nightie, the cool, thin silk see-through at the breast, riding high over her thighs. On any normal day he wouldn’t hesitate, but today he feels dirty. He freezes when her finger grazes over the skin of his chest, body rigid, and at Hange’s questioning gaze he says, “the Cookie Monster fucked Elmo.”

Hange frowns, pulls back and settles herself against the mattress, one leg folded neatly over the other.

“If you don’t want to have sex tonight you can just tell me,” she says, a note of humour in her tone. Levi shakes his head, shucks his jeans off and scrubs his hands through his hair.

“The toys,” he says almost desperately, and at Hange’s raised brow, he elaborates. “I was packing them away and they weren’t switched off, and the way they were lying…it looked like they were boning.”

“That’s,” Hange begins, blinking owlishly, “that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Levi doubts this, knowing the kinds of things Hange reads and watches to keep herself entertained through the day, but he doesn’t argue.

“Can we just go to bed,” he says instead, and Hange nods, shaking her head and chuckling low under her breath.

Sleep is difficult, dreams wrought with red and blue and high, squawking laughter.

**

It happens again the next night, but by the time he drags Hange out of bed and down to the living room they have stopped and they sit, silent and mocking in the toy box, unseeing eyes staring into the room.

The worst part is, it never happens to Hange. Night after night she clears away, slips every used and abused toy into the box, and night after night Elmo and the Cookie Monster remain still, and silent.

Years go by; Samson and Leelu age and outgrow the toys they once loved. and Elmo and the Cookie Monster are no exception. Leelu is five when the robots are packed in cardboard and hauled up into the attic, and Levi sets the box to rest with a smile. He’s never been happier to see the back of any inanimate object in all his young life.

New toys come and go, some horrifying, some begrudgingly kind of cool, and as the kids shift from childhood to their teen years the phones come along. Cheap, at first, with thick, fat buttons and black and white screens and Snake, and as the kids grow older the phones become more complex.

They flip, they slide, they twist, they have the entire alphabet squeezed onto individual keys and then they have no keys at all, the epitome of modern technology.

Samson is sixteen, tapping away at the screen of a phone too complicated for Levi to even comprehend, when Hange suggests they clean out the attic for more storage space.

It’s a good idea, Levi thinks – though it’ll create messes he has to clean up – as he re-positions the ladder beneath the hatch for the third time. He holds it still as Samson and Leelu clamber up, and it’s only when Samson yells, “whoa, some of these are from like, ten years ago!” that Levi remembers what demons they’ve buried in boxes beneath the roof of their house.

“I’m making tea,” he says, and Hange nods.

“I’ll grab a coffee before we get started.” She angles her head up the opening and yells, “be careful up there, guys,” before smiling, pecking a kiss to Levi’s cheek, and leading him downstairs.

**

“Man, Lu-Lu, you had terrible taste in clothes as a kid, too.”

Samson dodges the smack Leelu sends his way and crumples the voluminous snot-green dress back into the box

“I, on the other hand,” he begins, brandishing an item from his own box, but his face falls into a grimace at the sight of the bright orange tee and he folds it away with a quiet, “sure glad Mum and Dad don’t dress me now.

“Hey, shit-for-brains,” Leelu says. Samson looks over. “This is all our old toys.”

“Oh, sweet! I bet mine were all better than yours, too.”

Leelu kicks at his thigh as Samson crawls the space between then and he scowls, rubs the battered limb and settles beside the box.

“Hey, look!” He laughs, pointing inside, “the Cookie Monster!”

“He’s squashing my Elmo.”

“Well, yeah,” Samson says, “Cookie Monster comes out on top every time, sis. Everyone knows CM trumps Elmo any day. God, I even picked better toys than you. Nothing’s changed, huh.”

“You know, Samson,” Leelu says, cracking her fingers one at a time. “I’d hate to ruin a perfectly good day by shoving your egocentric fucking face through the attic floor, but I’m not above doing it.”

Samson splays his hands and nods his head in surrender, and then he blinks wide, glinting eyes and reaches for the box.

“Wonder if they still work.”

It takes one touch to set the Cookie Monster flailing.

Samson prods him with a finger and Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster thrashes in the box, his rhythmic bending and unfurling awakening Elmo, too. The pair of them screech and holler, decades old laughter ricocheting off the attic walls, and Samson barks, pointing a long finger and grinning from ear to ear.

“Randy little bastards,” he hoots, fishing his phone out of his back pocket and opening the camera.

Leelu stares, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“What the fuck,” she breathes, gazing in abject horror as her childhood crumbles before her eyes. Samson can barely hold the camera steady, shoulders shaking, tears leaking down his cheeks as the Cookie Monster—

“He’s railing him,” Samson cries, voice high and strained as he fights to get the words passed his laughter. He angles the phone to catch Leelu in the lens, body hunched and eyes bulging, as she stares in terror at their childhood playthings.

“This is the most sordid thing I’ve ever seen,” Samson wheezes.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Leelu says, quiet, monotonous, and horrified.

It takes a little longer before she thinks to switch them off, and when the idea finally springs to mind she hesitates to reach into the box. It feels dirty, touching them, and Samson wipes the tears from his face when the noise finally comes to a stop.

“I gotta show Mum,” Samson says, coughing out a few additional, choking laughs. Leelu follows him down the ladder in a daze.

**

“Mum, you’ve got to see this.”

Samson rockets into the kitchen, eyes alive, arm outstretched with his phone clutched in his hand. Levi sips his tea and raises a brow, gaze falling on Leelu as she drags her feet over the threshold and slumps into a chair. There’s something about the look in her eyes, a violated kind of shock that Levi has only seen once before, on himself, all those years ago, way back when…

Oh, no.

“Hey, Levi!” Hange laughs, setting her mug on the table. She peels Samson’s phone from his hand and turns it, tapping the screen. “Look what the kids found.”

There on the screen it plays, Elmo Live and Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster in all their sleazy glory. Levi jabs a finger first at the horror unfolding on the screen, and then at Hange

“I fucking told you,” he says, sitting a little higher in his chair to take one long, dignified slurp of his tea.

“My Elmo,” Leelu says. She looks at Levi a little imploringly. He shrugs a shoulder.

“It’s a long-standing affair,” he says. Samson claps him on the shoulder while Leelu buries her face in her hands.

“Taking it right in the childhood there, Lu-Lu,” Samson says, “just like Elmo’s taking it right in the—”

“Fuck the fuck off.”

“You didn’t believe me,” Levi says, listening idly as Samson and Leelu argue beside him. Hange replays the video and stares, laughter bubbling up in her eyes. Levi folds his arms, sniffing haughtily. “I told you those things were disgusting. Can we throw them away now?”

“No!” Samson wails, voice a little choked where his neck is hooked under Leelu’s arm. “You can’t punish them for love, Dad. I thought you were better than that.”

“Oh my god.”

“He’s right,” Hange says, grinning impishly, “I didn’t think you were the discriminating type.”

Levi scowls, then purses his lips.

“Can we just throw the damn things out?”

“I’ve lost all respect for you, Pops,” Samson says, and he tries to sigh, but his breath is gurgled when Leelu squeezes his neck a little tighter.

“Throw them out,” she says, “get rid of them.”

Levi kicks his way out of the chair, legs scraping over the kitchen tiles as Samson yells, strangled and desperate, “Injustice!”

Hange replays the video for a third time, tilts the screen first one way, then the other.

“It’s pretty impressive,” she says, “that they’re still working after all these years. And Elmo is way more flexible than I thought.”

Leelu tightens her headlock on Samson, choking off a snide, spit-heavy comment about stamina, and Levi drops back into his chair, tilting his head against the back rest to stare, resigned, at the ceiling. He listens to his children argue, to Leelu’s threats and Samson’s jeers, to Hange’s laughter and her half-hearted reprimands.

And to the monstrous, ungodly audio of toys fucking in his attic.

[chimchimsauce]

XS (VII - Brick)

“Give me just a little bit MORE”

Being the son of the largest gang in the country, Kim Taehyung might as well be a prince. He is more powerful than any one man should be and is not afraid to get rid of anything - or anyone that gets in his way.

So when a man is unable to pay back the gigantic loan he owes Taehyung, the heir is all too happy to take his life. Moments away from pulling the trigger, a girl more beautiful than he’s ever seen bursts in and offers her life for her father’s. Taehyung knows right away that he wants her.

And Taehyung gets everything he wants.

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven 

Taehyung rides with YN to the reception hall, Jungkook now sitting up front next to the driver. YN stares out of the window, pretending that she cannot see Taehyung's gaze in the glass's reflection.

She wishes the weather would reflect her mood. The day is bright and sunny, not a storm cloud in sight. The people they drive past look are smiling, laughing without a care as they go about their everyday lives, smiling and being happy. What YN wouldn't do for the chance at that simple life again.

Of course, the drive to the reception is not long at all. Taehyung slides out of the vehicle, taking quick strides to go around the back of the car and open YN's door for her. He offers her his hand and she takes it, uttering a small "Thank you." He does not let her go as they waltz into the reception hall, a beautiful old building with exposed brick and lots of pretty greenery. It's someplace YN would have dreamed about visiting, a venue she would have picked herself.

Her new husband releases her once they're safely inside in one of the small back rooms the venue has.

"You've been doing so well," Taehyung says, his hand heavy on her bare shoulder, "I am so proud of you, darling."

"Thank you," YN says again robotically.

Taehyung hums contentedly, his long fingers tapping down her sides before landing on the zipper that closes her dress. YN freezes.

Is he going to make a move now? With people on their way here as they speak?

"Taehyung," YN breathes out.

He mobster quite likes the sound of his name coming from her throat. He'll be sure to wrangle it out of her a thousand times before the night is over.

"Yes, darling," Taehyung answers, pulling the zipper down.

"Are you . . . we're not . . ." YN can't form full sentences, petrified.

Taehyung places a kiss on his wife's neck, loving the way she trembles.

"So eager," he whispers, lips brushing against her skin, "Later, darling. We go have guests to entertain."

A knock on the door shatters the intensity in the room. The relief YN feels is immense.

"Yes?" Taehyung asks, his annoyance obvious.

He hadn't been planning on taking YN here, but she placed the thought in his head and now his head is filled with ideas of pinning her against the wall, the brick digging into her back and leaving bloody scrapes. It sounds like such a wonderful experience, but now someone has shattered it.

The door swings open and in waltzes Yoonji, still dressed in her usual uniform. Her face is blank, taking in the scene with no interest.

"You wanted me to prepare YN for the reception," she says breezily, addressing Taehyung only and pretending that YN isn't even there.

"Right," Taehyung says, running his hands through his hair.

YN can't help but look at his golden wedding ring.

"Make sure Miss Kim looks beautiful," Taehyung says, moving to leave, "Even though it's impossible for her not to."

YN has never wished to be unattractive until this moment. If she was ugly, this wouldn't be happening. But then again, if Taehyung hadn't been interested in her, he would have killed her and her parents on the spot.

When the door shuts, YN is alone with Yoonji. She smiles at the other women but Yoonji doesn't return it, silently moving about the room. In the corner, there is a clothing rack with a garment bag hanging on it. Yoonji unzips it and pulls out a floofy white dress, one that should stop around YN's knees. She finishes unzipping YN's wedding dress, ridding her of it. YN is glad; That thing weighs like forty pounds.

YN stands there in her lingerie, Yoonji's eyes raking up and down her figure before she turns away, muttering something under her breath. YN peeks down at herself. Is something wrong with her body?

"Is everything alright?" YN asks Yoonji, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Just fine," Yoonji says curtly, bending down to allow YN to step into the new dress.

Yoonji jerks the fabric up too quickly and YN trips, almost falling to the ground.

"Hey!" she shouts.

Yoonji ignores her, pulling the princess sleeves over YN's shoulders and zipping her up. Se guides the bride over to the small vanity, unboxing the awaiting makeup kit. Yoonji quickly touches up YN's makeup, ridding YN of the evidence of her first kiss with Taehyung. YN is happy to have her smudged lipstick wiped away and replaced. If only she could do it with the skin that monster touched.

Yoonji rids YN of her veil and weaves flowers and gold into her hair, finishing her work. It took her just over twenty minutes to complete before another knock sounds on the door. It's Taehyung. He barges in without waiting for an answer.

"Is she ready yet?"

"Yes, sir," Yoonji says, stepping out of the way and disappearing down the hallway.

Taehyung extends his hands to hers, raising her hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Disgust washes over YN but she ignores it, knowing better than to pull away from him.

"I have some very important people I want you to meet, darling," he says to her as they walk into the main room.

People mingle amongst themselves, looking up when the new Mr. and Mrs. Kim enter the room. They're swarmed almost immediately, random people coming up to them to wish them well and get Taehyung's attention. YN is reminded of just how powerful the man she was forced to marry is by the way people are eager to get into his good graces.

YN's face hurts from all the smiling she has to do, greeting people she knows could kill her in a matter of seconds. It pains her that she sticks so close to Taehyung. Better the monster you know that the one you don't.

Every so often, YN will allow her gaze to wander, looking over those people who have yet to congratulate them. In the very corner, YN spots her own parents, locking eyes with her mother. Her mom is doing her best to not look terrified, but fear rolls off of her in waves. YN wants nothing more than to run over there and feel her loving embrace, pulling her close and breathing in the scent that has comforted her ever since she was small.

Her parents may not have had much, but they were abundant in love, making sure YN always felt safe and happy in her home. The memories of her childhood suddenly feel eons away, almost as if she had never lived them at all. Was it even her who was comforted after a hard day at school? Was it even her who crawled into her parents' bed when thunder struck? YN's mother sends her a shaky smile. YN has never seen her mother look so weak.

"Why don't we go say 'Hi', darling?" Taehyung asks her suddenly, whisking her away from the crowd of gangsters before she can even protest.

YN doesn't trust Taehyung as far as she can throw him. The less often he's around her parents, the better.

"Hello, Mother," Taehyung says brightly to YN's mom, much too happy for their circumstances, "Doesn't YN look beautiful?"

"She does," her mother says, voice barely above a whisper.

She reaches for YN but Taehyung pulls her away, his grasp too tight on her waist.

"Excuse me for being a little . . . possessive . . ." Taehyung says, "I don't want anyone to accidentally ruin my beautiful bride's dress. Well, except for me."

He laughs wholeheartedly and YN and her mother are forced to join in, both of them hiding their disgust.

YN's father appears by his wife's side, a flute of champagne in his hands. He's squeezing the glass so tightly YN is worried that it'll shatter.

"You -" YN's father begins, only to be cut off by YN in a panic.

"Daddy -" she says, aware of Taehyung's heated stare, "Why don't you take Mama and go dancing? I know you love to dance."

YN chuckles awkwardly at her lie, relieved when her father nods wordlessly and sweeps his wife away to the dance floor.

"It's about time to have our first dance," Taehyung remarks, whirling YN into the center of the room.

As if someone had been waiting for this moment, a spotlight beams down on them and music begins to play. All eyes are on them. YN has never even attempted to learn ballroom dancing but she's too afraid to say something now.

She follows Taehyung's footsteps as best she can, studying his feet and careful to not step on him.

"Look at me," he commands and she does, gasping a bit when she sees how intensely he's staring her down, "You are so beautiful . . . so sweet. And you're all mine."

Taehyung spins YN and she falls into him, her hands splayed out on his chest.

"Say it," Taehyung demands, wrapping his arms around her waist and turning around himself.

YN is sure this isn't the proper form but all she can focus on is the feel of him under his thin shirt, lean and strong. In some ways, Taehyung being a handsome man feels like a punishment within itself. But she supposes she shouldn't be surprised. The Devil was the most handsome angel of all.

"Say what?" YN asks as he dips her low to the ground, his large hand on her thigh.

Her cheeks flush red when he toys with the little lace garter she was forced to wear.

"Say that you're mine."

"I'm yours," YN says.

She has never hated herself so much.

"Good girl," he whispers in her ear, biting her once more.

Something tells her that he gets his kicks from causing pain.

The music ends with a flourish, Taehyung bowing to YN and kissing her on her cut up palms.

For the rest of the evening, Taehyung allows YN to roam about while he speaks business with whoever he needs to speak business with. Her parents have disappeared and YN prays it's because they were asked to leave since Taaehyung had gotten his fill of rubbing it into their faces.

Every entry is guarded by big men with even bigger guns, so any chance of escape (or even a moment alone) is thwarted. With nothing other to do and a growing fear of what will come after, YN turns to the seemingly endless supply of alcohol. She has never been a big drinker but right now she's chasing a blackout, wanting to remember as little of this day as possible.

"Maybe you should slow down," a voice says.

YN turns and sees a vaguely familiar man.

"Who are you?" she asks him.

So far, no one has been brave enough to approach her, no doubt afraid of gaining Taehyung's wrath. This man, however, seems relaxed, completely at ease.

"I'm Jimin," he says, "We've met a few times before, but haven't been formally introduced. I'm Taehyung's - and now yours - driver."

"Ooooh," YN says, her words slurring just a touch.

"I knew I knew you from . . . somewhere," she says, placing a hand on her hip.

"You should probably stop drinking," he says, moving to take the flute away from her.

YN steps back, jerking her glass and spilling a bit. It burns in her cuts and she whimpers, still refusing to let go of it.

"I can still remember. I don't want to remember today."

"Well we can't be having that," a new voice - Taehyung - calls out.

YN's blood runs cold as he yanks the glass away from her and shoves it into Jimin's awaiting hands. She can tell that he's angry and it's paralyzing.

"The Mrs. and I will be heading out now," Taehyung announces to the crowd, "It was a pleasure having you all here. Thanks so much for coming."

He guides the stumbling YN out of the venue, Jimin hot on their heels. In the back of the car, Taehyung hands YN a water bottle, forcing her to drink all of it.

"You shouldn't have done that," he says, glaring at her, "I'll make sure you remember every second of this day."

Chapter Eight

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[delimeful]

sheer atrocity (4)

warnings: captivity, mild arguing

-

After a brief break to eat and drink, Virgil was on the move. Again.

Considering dusk was quickly approaching and they’d been traveling or intimidating abusive dads for pretty much the entire day, Roman felt the pace they were setting was a little unreasonable.

He wasn’t the one walking it, sure, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Was this guy always so antsy, or was this a special occasion?

And while he was asking himself questions that he wouldn’t get any answers to, how long was the cast duration of this enchantment?

(More specifically, how much longer was he going to be small enough for beetles to look like dogs?

How much longer before Virgil decided what to do with him for real?)

He hadn’t seen the giant stop to recast, which meant that he’d been burning through a continuous enchantment for hours on end. Signs pointed to his magic reserves being massive. Chilling.  

Roman thumped a foot against the side of the jar that rested against Virgil’s side. “Are we wandering around the woods during twilight for any particular reason, or are you just lost and too embarrassed to admit it? Too used to seeing the trees from a loftier position, perhaps?”

Virgil glanced down at him, as though just recalling he was there. Offended, Roman made a mental note to make more of his internal diatribes to external diatribes. The only thing worse than being a prisoner with an uncertain future was being an ignored prisoner with an uncertain future.

“Go back to being quiet, I forgot you were annoying for a second.”

“Absolutely not,” Roman huffed, kicking his feet against the glass repeatedly for emphasis. “The moment we see another human I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs.”

“Oh, because that worked so well for you before,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.

Roman shifted positions, trying to ease a cramp in his leg. “Haven’t you heard? Third time’s the charm, and personally, I have no shortage of charm.”

There was a short pause, and then Virgil ground to a stop, taking a deep breath.

Instantly, Roman stiffened, eyes locked on the face above him. He’d forgotten himself, making jabs as though they weren’t enemies, as though he hadn’t been trapped, threatened, and used by this monster. It was too easy to pretend, when Virgil did things that were almost decent.

Sure enough, Virgil grabbed the top of the jar and lifted it from his pocket to be eye level. Roman shoved his arms out to keep himself stable, avoiding looking at the long drop below him.

“As useful as your bullheadedness was before, I don’t actually want you to scare the daylights out of the person I’m looking for this time.”

“Yes, well, I don’t want to be the size of a newborn chick, so it looks like we’re both dealing with  struggles in life,” Roman snapped back, because he’d never known when to keep his mouth shut.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “I could just muffle your jar, you know. I’m magic; I can do that.”

He could? Roman was sort of surprised he hadn’t done so already.

“But,” he continued with a sigh, “I think this one will probably be easier with your help. I’m not great at putting people at ease.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Roman snorted, and then jerked as the rest of the sentence sunk in. “Wait, hang on. ‘Put people at ease’? There is no way I’m helping you with any nefarious plots!”

“It’s not nefarious!” Virgil shifted his weight, glancing around impatiently. “And it’s time sensitive. Either help me or don’t, I don’t care.”

It couldn’t be that simple, but Roman wasn’t about to pass up a chance to see something other than the interior of a pocket. “Fine, but if I see you doing something evil, I’m not going to stand idly by!” And then, petulantly. “Also, I want out of the jar.”

“As long as you actually use your brain instead of your biases to judge me,” Virgil snarked back, but obligingly pried off the lid and tipped the jar on its side. Rather than pull or tip Roman out, he held his hand to the lip of the opening and waited.

It was almost more nerve wracking to climb into a giant hand willingly, but Roman managed it. The jar was whisked away, and Roman lifted to neck level. He stared blankly.

“Going to get off anytime soon?” Virgil asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.  

“What am I getting on? Your collar bones?” Roman replied incredulously. “Wouldn’t a shoulder be better?”

The hand under him shifted slightly, angling him towards the folds of the cloak where it met the hood. “The fabric has better grip here. You’ll fall off my shoulder if we’re attacked.”

Attacked by who? “Paranoid much?” Roman dallied for a moment longer, but the idea of falling really was an unappealing one, so he climbed up and managed to find a seat amongst the bunched up cloth.

As soon as he was settled, Virgil set off again, and Roman clung tightly, staring out at this strange new perspective of the forest. Weird, but definitely better than the jar.

They moved along in relative silence, Virgil surprisingly light on his feet for a giant. The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon when he finally jerked to a halt.

Roman opened his mouth to complain at the sudden stop, but Virgil’s head was tilted, as though carefully listening. After a moment, he turned to a nearby patch of shrubbery.

“Hey,” he called, voice lacking it’s usual edge. “I can hear you over there.”

There was a long pause, and Roman blinked as the shrubbery began to tremble slightly. There was actually someone in there?

“Easy,” Virgil said, lowering himself into a squat. “I’m not going to hurt you. I can help you find the way out of these woods, if you’d like.”  

After a moment, a small hand pushed part of the bush aside, peering out cautiously at them. Roman’s heart twisted at the kid’s face, smudged with dirt and tear streaks. They couldn’t have been more than eight.

Virgil shifted, and Roman felt a chill go through him, remembering who, or rather what he was with. He couldn’t let the giant lure the kid into whatever scheme he was planning.

“There you go,” Virgil coaxed, offering a hand to help the kid stand up. “It must have been scary, stuck out in the woods alone. You did good to stay in one spot.”

Roman bit down on the automatic urge to call out a warning, listening to the way Virgil carefully encouraged the kid to stand up and brush the twigs from their hair. This was important. He had to consider the situation from all angles before making a move.

If Virgil really wanted to abduct a random kid in the woods, he didn’t need to convince them of anything. He’d dealt with a trained slayer as though he was a minor annoyance, a kid wasn’t exactly a challenge. So why was he going to all this trouble?

Roman thought about the soft edges of Virgil’s expression when he gave Patton his coat back. Maybe… it wasn’t a ruse?

“I’m Virgil,” the giant in question said, shaking Roman from his thoughts. “And this is Roman. We’re travelling together.”

Roman startled, not expecting to be introduced. “Uh, salutations!”

The kid stared with wide eyes. “You’re so small!” they blurted, before covering their mouth hurriedly.

Virgil cut in before Roman could correct him. “He’s a pixie. Likes to cause problems on purpose.”

Roman huffed “I do not! Don’t let him fool you, I am a delight.”

The kid giggled, and Virgil’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Roman wished he could see his expression.

From there it was second nature to keep up a stream of chatter with the kid about everything from their favorite food (honey on bread) to their stance on frogs (cute but you shouldn’t kiss them). It grew darker and darker as they walked, and after the kid had almost tripped over stray roots thrice in rapid succession, Virgil had crouched and lifted them onto his back with ease.

Before long, the kid was snoring lightly, face smushed against his hood, and there was a surprisingly comfortable silence in the air between them.

Virgil broke it first. “Thanks for not freaking out. I didn't know you had it in you.”

Roman crossed his arms, ignoring how close he’d come to freaking out. “This doesn’t mean I trust you or anything. We’re still enemies, you’re just. Not as bad as you could’ve been.”

“Yipee,” Virgil deadpanned, shrugging his shoulder under Roman slightly to jostle him. Roman jabbed his elbow in the general direction of Virgil’s neck in retaliation. “Very gracious of you.”

“I certainly won’t be as gracious the next time you pass me off as a pixie,” Roman muttered, prompting a low, half-air laugh from Virgil. He realized belatedly that he’d assumed there would be a next time, and hadn’t been corrected. He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.

What was it about this giant that made Roman feel at ease to speak his mind, even in such a precarious position?

Virgil slowed as they came up on the town again, crouching to gently nudge the kid awake and set  them on their own two feet again. “You’re home, kiddo.”

“Don’t go traipsing around in the forest again, y’hear?” Roman added sternly. “Not everything in those woods are as nice as us.”

The kid nodded solemnly, and then grumbled sleepily as Virgil ruffled their hair and pushed them towards the paved path into town.

Once the kid reached the town's edge, they turned around to peek over their shoulder. The two of them were already well out of sight, waiting until the kid had been safely whisked into the arms of their parents before departing.

Roman waited with bated breath, but despite their deal being over, Virgil seemed to have no intent of removing him from his newfound perch. He sunk deeper into the fabric as they continued to trek on.

For now, he could let himself enjoy this tentative peace.

[voltives]

Could u do a fic where like elizabeth has a moment she feels jealous of nadine and then vice versa?

sorry if it's not to your taste </3 i literally just took your request and absolutely just RAN with it. thank you for requesting however!

title: savoir -faire

rating: M, but it's at the very least five steps away from E.

words: 1.5k

characters: nadine tolliver, mike barnow, elizabeth mccord and blake moran

fandom: madam secretary

also available at ao3 here

warnings for general sex references and absolutely filthy language. still, nothing totally explicit.

-

The green-eyed monster follows her from across the room.

Even from the second she’d first placed her lips on the edge of a glass, her lipstick smudging. Staining. The rough clinking of her teeth against the glass as she stared forwards, forcing her jaw to unclench, to relax her tongue.

Her eyes twitch in random sequences. She should look away. Should, in theory.

Except, it occurs everywhere her eye shouldn’t be capable of seeing. Her ears pick up stray moans behind closed doors and inside supply closets. Within corridors, the walls speak to her. This is her domain. The meetings speak lengths on how much she should know, how the eyes of everyone else are naturally oblivious. They pretend not to know, or they do– or they live in blissful ignorance.

Putting the glass down, Nadine pulled all thoughts away from the work at hand and towards the gap in the secretary’s schedule. Fifteen minutes was long enough. She made her way across the threshold, ears craning for excess. Down the hallway, some of the offices were empty, people milling in doorways – life continued as usual.

The stench of sex, subtle - but present.

Mike knew. She was certain he knew. She pitied his wide knowledge, his machiavellian schemes - even his tendency to speak on the lesser things. He ran his tongue and she chided him for it - an act of power she enjoyed when he didn’t demand her obedience. She was his once a week. But even since then, it hadn’t stopped her from wanting more. More legs. Arms. She wanted–

Elizabeth had held more than her respect. The secretary grasped at manners relative to her and returned the favours tenfold. She was jealous of what the woman was, and perhaps even everything she stood for. Blake was her right hand, her pet. He’d catered to her every beck and call, and even then she hadn’t known who had the upper hand in this dangerous game they were all playing.

The heat bothered her as she stared straight at the door to the Secretary’s office.

Her fingers were vying for the handle. Maybe if she laid her eyes on the real thing instead of listening through the cracks in the wall… How many times had it been? Fifteen minutes every other day when the heat became unbearable, and all she could think about was fuzzy, interrupted thoughts about sex and the thrill of walking in.

Would the anger have caressed her soul? Blinded her? Filled her with such green-eyed jealousy that there was nothing to do except stare in sheer disappointment?

It became a lesson of self-control. A balance between managing the surge of jealousy, as well as behaving professionally. The bottle of scotch in the bottom drawer of her office became a life-line, where just walking around with a clenched jaw did nothing for the anger.

She swallowed down a gasp as her fingers became slick. If she moved her legs slightly to the right–

“Looks like the bitch is in heat.”

Something blinding sparked under her eyelids as she bit down the urge to scream. She knew who it was without even turning. “Shut up, Mike,” she hissed. Humilation began to hum lightly under her cheeks at the ire of being caught. That title was earned.

A force pulls her suddenly back against a firm chest, an arm wrapped possessively around her waist. He turns her around to kiss her like a man starved, wet and open. She doesn’t push him away.

“Listening to them turns you on, doesn’t it? You’re jealous.” His whispers were already making her legs shake. Nadine began to silently beg for him to stop. Not now. Anyone could be walking–

“No, ” Nadine let herself soak in the excess noise before swallowing, averting her attention back towards his face. Christ, how she wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. “You don’t know what I want.”

“Is it Blake? I know Bess only fucks him for leverage.”

She understands now what he’s aiming for. His perspective, his stance on her. Mike was willing to throw her under the bus if it meant gaining more leverage in this pathetic little game. She had been doing it for decades. In politics, sex was a gamble very few were planning to risk. It was only when she was involved it became enjoyable, almost.

“Go to hell, Mike. You know nothing.”

“It’s a dog eat dog world,” he says after a moment of silence, something ominous flickering - creeping. She can’t read his expression all of a sudden. “I should have known. And here I thought you’d learn a thing or two from Vincent.” He leans down to whisper, brushing fingers against her collar and thumbing over a necklace. If his hands were willing, she knew first-hand what they’d do.

Nadine levelled her eyes to him, smiling dangerously.

“You might know her longer than I do, but know one thing.” she paused, just as footsteps began to sound on the other side of the door. “…This is my domain, Mike. Dogs like you need to be kept in line.”

She smoothed down the plaits of her skirt as Blake walked out, turning away from him.

“Blake, a word?”

-

“Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth.”

She held the champagne flute with almost enough strength to crush it in her hands. Still, her eyes became fixated, flitting through the patrons in the room with narrowed eyes. To anyone else, she would appear the demure host of a sovereign dinner. Barely anyone gave her a second glance when she lingered by Blake’s side instead of Henry’s.

“What?”

Blake brushes a hand over the bare skin of her forearm. It’s nothing obscenely intimate, but any closer and – and now, a tincture of something else. Blake’s attention is filed down into a shallow urge, and her compliance lacked shame.

“You’re still watching them.” A finger lands on her wrist. Possessive. “Where’s Henry tonight?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Today, she no longer cares. If he knows about them, he doesn’t let on. There is little her husband doesn’t know– the kids are the only point of connection they have. Jealousy sits on the periphery of her conscience– tonight, she can just watch from the outside looking in.

They’re standing side by side. Elizabeth points with her eyes, gesturing into the crowd. A glimpse of midnight blue, a dress with barely any sleeves. Opposite her, was Mike. After an evening of watching her mingle with others, the pair had united in the middle for a short dance.

She wonders intimately if Blake can see the things she does. A mix of fascination and disgust intertwining together in her stomach. Henry wasn’t here to sweep her off her feet - in fact, his distance had made it harder to make the easier calls. Blake had given her nothing in return except more open-ended questions.

Elizabeth needed an ultimatum.

“You’re supposed to know, because might I remind you that he is still your husband.” Blake murmurs reluctantly, adjusting a tie. Looking back over her shoulder, his blazer seemed to be missing. “I’m surprised people haven’t noticed he isn’t here.”

“They all have their eyes on Nadine,” she says, grabbing another glass from a passing tray. “See, even that French minister has her eyes on her. She’s perfect.”

Nadine was built mostly in legs. Her shoulders were pale yet toned, collarbone almost completely bare to compliment an open physique. Modest, but just enough sensuality to catch the eye. The woman was so professional at all times it had astounded her. Not a single hair out of place.

“She’ll ruin you if you’re not careful.”

“I know.” In a way, it was tempting. Elizabeth was almost tempted to try to test the waters. Settling back in the safe cover of a forgotten hallway, she looked around for any bystanders. Whoever was still present seemed to barely give her any notice.

In a strikingly valiant display, she brushed her fingers over his lapel in an attempt to reach for his tie. Maybe for once, she wanted someone to watch, to pay close attention. Her deep desire for him had been rooted in more than just plain mutual attraction.

“Elizabeth,” He warned.

For the first time that evening, she smiled. “I bet she’s good.” A singular shoulder shrug. “Have you ever thought what else that mouth can do?” Elizabeth wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him behind a pillar.

What could possibly go wrong? “We can’t–“

“Sure we can. I want you, Blake.” Her voice became tinctured with demand. “Tell me you think of her too. When you come in me, you’re thinking of her.” Desperations claws its way into her conscience. if only to bring him closer to what she had felt- what she had seen. How green-tinted everything began when the alcohol rolled around again.

She catches the caution in his eyes, and prods even further, reaching for a button. If they were lucky: if, the evening would end with one more orgasm on either side.

“Elizabeth.”

“I want you in me, Blake. God, you make me so–

“Elizabeth.”

He is holding onto her tighter than ever. Still, she tried for another button, until his hand had silenced her path. A whine.

“Nadine is– she’s behind you.”

-

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [1.4]

Masterlist

Trigger Warning: nudity, very mild allusion to smut

The grocery store was busier than either of them had expected for an early Saturday morning. Eva wasn't even halfway around the store yet and the cart was filling up rapidly. She hadn't decided what she was going to make for dinner and hadn't found any of the items that had been on her list. She read the list on her phone and looked at the boxes of rice varied on the shelf. Remington came up behind her with a few bags of fruits and vegetables, placing them in the cart.

"What do you want for dinner?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled by her mask.

Remington shrugged, "I don't know, whatever you're in the mood for," he replied.

"... So, if I'm in the mood for prime rib --"

"Let's not get ridiculous now," he chided, eyes crinkling to let her know he was smiling. Eva snorted and grabbed a random box of rice.

She looked to him as he went on to the next section of the aisle, hand on his hip as he tried to make sense of the list she'd given him, matching it with what was on the shelf. His hair was hidden under a toque, despite the heat, with the pastel pink tips falling into his eyes - sexy and sweet all at once. The low neckline of his black and white striped t-shirt accentuated his neck where collar bone tattoo was peaking out. He had on some simple black jeans, black boots, and his eyes lined in thin black that was beginning to smudge. He was tentative as he reached for a jar of pickled vegetables, cognisant that someone may have touched the same jar not minutes ago and may have been carrying the virus. He was quick to sanitize his hands after he'd placed the jar in the cart.

Pushing the cart into the next aisle, Eva turned her back to reach for something on the shelf. His movements were slow but out of the corner of her eye could see Remington moving towards the cart, burying something under the almond milk and cheese, hoping she hadn't seen as he shifted back into his position with the shopping list still open on his phone. His face was nonchalant but he scratched his neck, moving along, trying to act interested in the shelf he'd stopped in front of. Eva shook her head with a laugh.

"Whatever it is, either put it back or get another cart," she stated simply.

He flicked his head back to her, eyes wide above the mask, the devilish smirk hidden beneath but was twitching at the corners of his lips. He was quiet for a moment, feigning innocence then sighed defeatedly.

"I hoped you wouldn't notice," he mumbled, crossing back to the cart beside her, his hand warm on the small of her back. She turned to him, her attention fully his and he wiggled his eyebrows a little, his goofy tactic making her laugh with her head tipped back.

"My darling, every time we shop together you try and sneak shit in,"

"And here I was thinking I was getting away with it," he replied, and Eva could picture the pout he was putting on behind his mask. She reached to touch his neck, her hand cold from the fridges she'd just been in but he leant into her palm, those big brown eyes staring at her with mischief. She lowered her voice a little, so that only he could hear her.

"Well, you get away with it because you're so goddamn hard to deny," she said.

"Oh, really?" he chuckled, his arms wrapping around her waist to bring her close, forgetting for moment who he was and where he was. His thumbs tickled her sides a little and she giggled back at him.

"Yep, you're too cute you see?"

"I try..." he chuckled with a shrug, the subtlest of blush colouring his cheeks.

"So," she began, raising her eyebrows at him, "- what did you just try to sneak into my shopping cart?"

"Just some cookies," he mumbled quickly, momentarily avoiding her eye contact like a child who'd been caught misbehaving. "I'll share 'em with ya!" he exclaimed.

"Well, it's alright for you with your tiny waist and annoyingly good metabolism. You can eat all you want and still look that good," she licked her lips a little, moving her hand to touch his chest, "If I have a bite of one, I'll be bloated for the rest of the week."

"Don't be silly," he grumbled, pulling his mask down momentarily to peck her forward reassuringly, then moving her suddenly out of the way from an elderly lady who wanted something on the shelf behind them. He watched as she stretched across to the shelf, her frail fingers not quite able to reach the packet she was fumbling for and he was quick to react, sinking a little to meet her eye line.

"Would you like a hand?" he asked confidently, his voice soft, his eyes brimming with the same genuine kindness and effortless charm that made Eva fall in love with him over and over each day.

"That'd be wonderful, dear," she replied, grinning at him and Eva and stepping out of the way. Remington quickly grabbed the packet from the shelf and popped it into her basket for her. "Thank you so much," she chimed, nodding her head of grey hair in appreciation. "Such a lovely boy," she shuffled off with a final thank you and Remington beamed from ear to ear proudly.

"See," he hummed, turning back to Eva "I'm a lovely boy..."

"Mhmm... sanitize your hands, lovely," she took hold of the cart again, pushing it further along. Remington quickly pulled out his trusty bottle.

"Okay," he drawled, coming up behind Eva as she walked, trying to wrap his arms around her waist again needily, his chest pressed against her back, "I have a little proposition for you,"

"Oh no" she joked, relaxing into his warmth and the familiar scent of his shampoo.

"I'll put whatever I want in the cart and you just have to pretend ya' don't notice,"

He nuzzled the side of Eva's neck, his nose pressed against it and she tensed for a moment. He was ridiculously impossible to say no to, annoyingly irresistible. She sighed.

"Fine,"

Satisfied, he checked to make sure nobody was around before he pulled down his mask, then she hers, and he moved to kiss her on the lips lovingly, lingering for a while longer than he should have in the middle of the store, his fingers tangling in her hair. When they pulled away Eva playfully rolled her eyes as they pulled their masks back on.

"You're footing the bill this time, Cookie Monster,"

They finally managed to exit the store, both of them with plastic bags in each hand. Crossing out the threshold, Remington stopped short when he spotted a familiar face coming towards them, scowling as he had to put on his mask per store policy. It was the same man who was harassing the cashier a few months ago, the same one Remington cold-cocked in front of the entire store. Eva recognized him quickly, and glanced at Remington with wary.

Remington couldn't help but smile smugly, clearly having been recognized. The man refused to make eye contact with either of them as he stormed past, ducking into the store.

Remington scoffed, "I guess his probation is up,"

"I wonder which poor staff member he's going to harass today?" she said.

He glanced down at her with a mischievous grin, "Did you happen to forget anything on your list?"

Eva rolled her eyes, "Cut it out, Rem,"

When they made it back to her place, they were quick to unload and disinfect all their groceries. And then they fell into their making-dinner routine as per usual; and of course, Remington ended up getting distracted by Pluto. The tabby would rub against his legs or sit and eye him on the counter while he chopped the vegetables. While Eva wasn't looking, he pushed over some pieces of carrot for Pluto to nibble on. He had turned into a real pushover when it came to this cat.

After they'd eaten and cleaned up the dishes, Eva was reluctant to start up her work again. The article she was working on was a particularly dry piece and it was like pulling teeth get all her information and detail from her client. This was week three she had been working on it; she usually had her pieces finished within less than a week.

Remington sat on the couch while she worked at the table, reading a book he had picked from her extensive collection: The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It was a story he knew of well but he never had the opportunity to read the actual book, and he found the sounds of Eva's typing soothing as he got lost within the literature.

It was some time past eight-fifteen when Eva pushed her laptop away, rubbing her strained eyes and yawning. Perhaps she ought to invest in a pair of blue light glasses? Her eyes wouldn't be aching this much if she did. She stood up and did a stretch, looking over to her couch where a single lamp illuminated the dark space. Remington had spread himself across the cushions with Pluto curled up in his lap; he read the book with one hand and rubbed the tabby's ears with the other. It was an endearing thing to see.

She wandered over and sat on the couch arm, smiling when she read the cover of his book, "How is it?"

"Very good. If I had read this in English class I probably would've gotten a higher grade," he said.

"You didn't read it in high school?"

"Something tells me you did,"

Eva nodded, "Wrote a paper on how society has suppressed us to the point where we all sympathize with Hyde because he represents instinctive human nature,"

Remington threw his head back into the pillow, looking up at the ceiling, "Of course you did,"

"What?"

"You're just really fucking cool. Have I mentioned that already?"

Eva simpered, "Says the rockstar with a number one album out,"

"And with only one person in my audience," he smiled at her, "How's your work?"

The small brunette sighed and pouted, staring down at Pluto and petting his pointed ears, "... Can I have a hug?"

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep,"

He didn't need to be asked twice. Remington carefully removed Pluto and set him down on the floor before pulling Eva into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly and placing a soft kiss on her head. Eva rested her head against his chest, sighing heavily and closing her eyes, hoping to make the ache in her head go away. His fingers twisted in the short locks of her hair and she picked at the fraying threads of his t-shirt.

"What're you writing about?" he asked softly.

She scoffed, "An analysis and review on why old Hollywood stars all spoke in that same not-British-not-American hybrid accent,"

"That sounds kind of cool,"

"In theory, yes. In writing, not at all," she rubbed her eyes again and pinched the bridge of her nose, "It's really dry,"

Remington grazed his fingers over the nape of her neck, "You got a headache?" and she nodded briefly, "You want some pills?"

"Took some already," she muttered.

It didn't take two glances at Eva to see that she was exhausted. In between her work and their outings, Remington could pick off that she was slowly fading, whether it be her focus or her overall body language. And in the last few hours, fatigue had slammed into her like an eighteen-wheeler.

"How much more do you have to write?" he asked.

"I'm just about at the conclusion," she looked up at him, her dark stormy eyes glossy and cloudy.

He smiled endearingly, pushed her fallen hair of her face, "I think it can wait until tomorrow,"

Eva shook her head, "I'd rather just get it all done tonight," she said.

"No offense, but your eyes look like they're about to roll out of your head," he chuckled.

Eva would have rolled her eyes but it hurt to do so, "Rem..."

"Besides, your eyes are one my favorite things about you and it would be a damn shame to lose 'em,"

"My eyes can't roll out of my head," she giggled at his absurdity.

Remington shrugged, "Keep pushing yourself and you may be proven wrong," he joked, then standing up much to Eva's chagrin. She pouted as he glanced down at her, only in the mood for cuddles and silence.

"Where are you going?" she whined, her glossy eyes and pursed lips incredibly adorable to Remington.

"Don't worry, you're coming with me," he assured her, trying to entice her to stand up. Eva put her hands out in front of her and Remington took the bait, hauling her to her feet with one swift tug. Eva was definitely more awake after that.

He led her into the bathroom and had her sit on the counter sink, excitement flooding her as he turned on the faucet to her bathtub. She had an average sized bathroom considering how small her apartment was, with white tile walls and a few succulents on some shelves alongside her toiletry products. Remington was pleased to see she had a couple different scents for a bubble bath.

"Ocean breeze or peach and mango?" he asked, pointing to the blue and orange bottles.

"Ocean breeze," Eva smiled.

She didn't have any adequate candles in her apartment, but she did have a lava lamp with a strobe light that changed colors. Alongside the pleasant and calming scent of the ocean bubble bath, Remington set up his Spotify playlist to echo softly through the room.

Eva cocked her head as she watched the water rise and the bubble grow in height in her small tub, "I hope we both fit,"

"It'll be fine," Remington nodded, shutting the water off as it hit just the right height, "Gives me more reason to be closer to you, anyway,"

Eva simpered, "You're so schmaltzy,"

"You like it, though,"

"I do," she shut her eyes as he came down to kiss her, chapped lips soft and gentle, and she couldn't help but smile when she felt his fingers fiddle with the buttons of her top. She didn't object, however.

He let go of her only to help her undress; pulling her shirt over her head and pressing a few kisses to her shoulder playfully as he fumbled with her bra. It didn't take Eva long to discard her socks, shuffle out of her denim shorts and for Remington to eagerly get her out of her underwear too, his hands roaming her body to keep her close to him. She undressed him as well, his jeans slipping down his legs with ease and making quick work of his briefs. He bundled all the clothing into the corner of the room. Brushing back her hair and kissing each cheek, he held Eva for a moment, then nestled into her neck, looking at them both in the mirror.

"My God, you're gorgeous," he spoke into her ear, his thumbs brushing the skin at her waist where he held her now, his chest pushed to her back.

"You're not so bad, yourself," she tittered, her cheeks tinting in time as the color in the lava lamp changed to fuschia.

Remington pressed a couple of kisses to her shoulder then shuffled over to the bathtub, steam rising from the surface, dipping his hand in to check if was the temperature was right. Supposedly satisfied, he then sunk into the water quickly, stretching his legs and resting his elbows over the back of the tub.

"How's the water?" Eva giggled.

"Fantastic. Care to join me?"

He held out his hand to get her in, not the most elegant of tasks be he couldn't take his eyes off of her, watching as Eva sunk in the water and sitting comfortably between his legs. The water was perfectly warm, detoxifying. She let go of his hand reluctantly.

Remington shuffled a little behind her, readjusting exactly where he wanted to be. Eva relaxed against him, her back on his chest, her eyes closing for a moment as she sunk into the relief of how warm she was.

"This okay?"

"Mhmm,"

"How's your head?"

"A bit better," she rested her head on his shoulder, smiling up at him, "I've never taken a bath with a boyfriend, before," she admitted.

"Are you kidding me?" he replied, his fingertips drawing little circles in her thighs.

Eva shook her head, "No baths. It was always showers, which was kinda' nice too, but..."

"There was always the lead up to shower sex?"

"Right," she chuckled again, "Did you ever find that shower sex is a lot more complicated then its made out to be?"

"You're referring to the stress of trying to fuck and not slipping in the shower, right?" he smirked.

"Exactly! It sounds like so much fun and then you actually try it, and it's way more work than it's worth," she said.

"I admit, it's not my favorite thing," beneath the water, Eva could feel his fingers drawing up over her thighs and ghosting between her legs, "But we can always just fuck in the bathtub, too,"

Her back arched momentarily before the hand in question came to rest over her stomach, and Remington was wearing a shit-eating smirk, "Is that the sequel to Dying in a Hot Tub? Fucking in the Bathtub?" she chuckled.

He gasped, his dark eyes going wide, "Oh my God, you're a genius!"

"You're just figuring this out?" she laughed again before pecking his flushed cheek, one hand grasping his shoulder as she turned in her spot and peppering kisses all over his forehead, down his temple, his cheeks, his eyelashes, above his lips and on his jaw. She attacked him with quick kisses and he was laughing that light giggle that set her heart ablaze.

His fingers snagged her cheeks. holding her in place so he could give her a proper kiss on the lips, "What was that for?"

"Just because," she pecked his lips again, "You make me really happy,"

[remywrites5]

           “Hey mate, wake up!”

           Draco snarled, twisting in his bed and shoving his face more fully into the pillow. Whoever was trying to wake him was going to get covered in boils for the rest of the day. All the Slytherins knew better than to wake him before he was ready. Draco preferred to wake up in his own time. He had a very rigorous internal clock and woke up just precisely when he meant to. Waking him up early would ruin everything.

           “Come on, you said you wanted to wake up early so we could get some flying in before breakfast, remember?”

           Draco’s brow furrowed in confusion. He couldn’t recall saying anything of the kind. And why did it sound like Weasley was speaking to him of all people? Draco turned his face up to see who was standing over his bed and was shocked to find everything was blurry.

           “Merlin’s beard, I can’t see!” he said in a panic, reaching his arms out in alarm, looking for something familiar. Everything looked so sodding red for some reason.

           The voice laughed and something was shoved into Draco’s hand. “Might help if you put those on, Harry.”

           Draco shoved the glasses onto his face and suddenly the world went into focus. He glanced around and realized why all he’d been able to see was red. He was in the Gryffindor dormitories instead of his own. But why on Earth had he fallen asleep here? Was it some sort of plot between Potter and Weasley? Had they hexed him?”

           Draco patted himself down and found his body was a little more filled out than normal. Had they hit him with some kind of bloating spell? He put his hands out in front of him and was surprised to find his skin had darkened. Was that part of the spell also? Strange, it almost looked like the same skin tone Potter had.

           “Did you call me Harry?” Draco asked, scowling at Weasley.

           “Uh, yeah, it’s your name innit?” Ron said with a shrug. “You feeling alright, Harry?”

           Draco wrenched himself out of the bed and hurried to the nearest door. He was relieved to find himself in the bathroom. He ran up to the mirror and Potter’s face stared back at him.

           Draco liked to imagine he would handle this sort of thing very calmly. His father had taught him to be calm and collected under pressure.

           So Draco started screaming.

                                                           ***

           Harry blinked his eyes open and was shocked to find he didn’t need his glasses in order to see. He was also a little alarmed by the amount of green in his field of vision. Sitting up, Harry looked around and saw the Slytherins all getting ready, shoving their feet into socks and shoes, tying their silver and green ties. Blaise Zabini looked over and grinned at him.

           “Oh look, sleeping beauty is up!” he teased, chucking a comb at Harry’s head. Harry managed to catch it out of sheer luck. “You sleep alright, Princess?”

           Harry glowered at him, wondering just what the bloody hell Zabini thought he was playing at. “Excuse me?”

           Blaise laughed and walked over to Harry’s bed. He put his finger under Harry’s chin and tilted it up, pressing their lips together. “Thought I might have tired you out too much last night, Draco. It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

           Harry blinked slowly as a few pieces of information slammed against the walls of his skull as if trying to escape his brain. One, Harry had just kissed Blaise Zabini. Two, Blaise seemed to think he was Draco sodding Mafloy. Three, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were supposedly “having fun” together. Harry shuddered and shoved Blaise hand away from his face.

           “Not very friendly this morning, eh?” Blaise said with a shrug as if he expected the cold reaction. “You’re always such a drama queen in the morning.”

           Harry rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes as if hoping everything would shift and the green of his duvet would be switched to red. Maybe this was just Fred and George playing a very elaborate prank on him. He really hoped so.

           When he opened his eyes everything was the same. Baise was looking at himself in a handheld mirror and Harry reached out to grab it. “Oi!” Blaise said indignantly.

           He held the mirror up to his face and the sneer of Draco Malfoy looked back at him. “Fuck!”

                                                           ***

           Draco ran down to the great hall and found his body sitting down next to Blaise, looking like a lost puppy. He would have rolled his eyes if he hadn’t been absolutely mortified of what Blaise had potentially done. He walked up and grabbed his own arm, which was just bloody bizarre, and dragged his own body from the Great Hall and out into the courtyard.

           He shoved himself up against the stone wall. “Let me guess - Potter?”

           “What the bloody hell have you done to my hair?” Harry asked, making a face at the nest atop Draco’s head.

           “I tried and failed to tame this fucking monster you call hair, Potter,” Draco said, blowing some of the unruly fringe off his forehead. “Honestly, how do you live like this?”

           “Me?” Harry shot back challengingly. “You’re the one who apparently goes around snogging Blaise Zabini and who knows who else! He kissed me this morning. He didn’t even ask. You two must be pretty cozy!”

           Draco scowled unhappily. Well there was that secret out of the bag then. “That’s none of your business, Potter.”

           “It’s really weird hearing that coming from my voice,” Harry said, cringing slightly. “And it rather is my business because I’m stuck in your body and that means he might just feel the need to do it again.”

           Draco worked his jaw for a moment as he tried to think. There had to be something they could do about this. Maybe if they went and saw Madame Pomfrey she could help them. She wouldn’t be very keen to help Draco but with Harry involved she could hardly say no.

           “Draco,” Harry said, interrupting his reverie. “You know what this means.”

           “No I don’t,” Draco hissed at him in a bold faced lie.

           Harry sighed. “Ron and Hermione switched bodies a few months back. So did Seamus and Dean. You’ve heard the stories. We’re –“

           “Don’t say it,” Draco snapped at him, his whole body tensing up just thinking about it. “Don’t be ridiculous. We couldn’t possibly be…”

           Harry raised an eyebrow at him. “Then what’s your brilliant explanation?” he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.

           Draco ripped himself away and began to pace the length of the courtyard. It was impossible. He couldn’t be Harry Potter’s soulmate. The idea was just too preposterous to comprehend. It had to be something else. Dark magic or some kind of mistake.

           “I don’t like it any more than you do,” Harry said, watching Draco pace. “It’s the only logical explanation for what’s happened to us.”

           “We go to a school for magic, Potter. There’s always another explanation.”

           “Fine,” Harry said with a shrug. “You go on looking for another explanation and I’ll just wait for tomorrow when we switch back.” Harry turned to leave and started back inside.

           Draco rushed after him and grabbed his arm. “You seem awfully calm for someone who just learned I’m his soulmate,” he said accusingly.

           Harry smirked. “So you are accepting we’re soumates then?”

           Draco frowned. “Absolutely not,” he said snippily, turning his nose up. “I’m saying if that’s the explanation you’ve accepted then why aren’t you more concerned?”

           Harry laughed and shook his head. “With everything I’ve been through this is hardly enough to surprise me.”

           Draco dropped his hand and cocked his head to the side, studying Harry in his body. “Don’t pretend like this isn’t a big deal, Potter. It’s infuriating. You’re acting as if you don’t care!”

           Harry stepped closer and Draco took a step back. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, watching Harry. “Do you want me to care?”

           “I can’t have been what you were expecting.”

           Harry smiled and took his glasses off Draco’s face, breathing on them and then cleaning them on his robes. Gently, he placed them back on Draco’s face. “They’re always getting smudges, even when I don’t touch them,” Harry told him, his fingertips resting against Draco’s temples for just a bit too long. “We should get to classes. I’ll see you in Potions later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

           Harry spun around and sauntered away. Draco stared after himself in complete bafflement. Did he always walk like that or was that Harry’s influence on his body?

                                                                       ***

           Harry wondered if his talk with Draco had done more harm than good. It was clear Draco abhorred the idea of them being soulmates. And clearly he’d already been “having fun” with Zabini so perhaps he had been hoping it was someone else. Sure, Harry hadn’t expected Draco to be his soulmate but it wasn’t like he was going to be a tosser about it.

           So fate had decided they were each other’s perfect half. That was… “Just great,” Harry grumbled to himself unhappily, putting his chin in his hands. He decided he was entitled to a bit of a sulk about this. After all, his soulmate didn’t even want him. He’d been rejected by the one person who wasn’t supposed to do that!

           “Still moping I see,” Blaise said, sitting down next to Harry. “Honestly Draco, if I’d known you were going to behave this way I wouldn’t have snogged you last night. I know I’m not the Great Harry Potter but it can’t have been that bad.”

           Harry sat up straight and turned towards Zabini. “What do you mean?”

           Zabini scoffed. “Don’t play dumb, Draco, it doesn’t suit you.”

           “Is Draco – I mean – am I into Harry Potter?” Harry asked, wincing slightly at his uncouth approach.

           Zabini’s eyes widened and he looked at Harry as if he’d just said he wanted to live with Moaning Myrtle in the girl’s bathroom. “You only talk about him all the time. What’s gotten into you?”

           “Zabini, I’m partnering with Malfoy today,” Draco said, taking Zabini’s books and depositing them on the seat in front of where he was currently sitting. “Move.”

           Zabini looked about to argue, glancing between Draco and Harry. “Fine then,” he said, getting to his feet and sitting at the seat Draco had designated for him.

           “That wasn’t very nice,” Harry chided him as Draco slid into the chair beside him.

           “Well I can’t have you running your mouth, can I?” Draco hissed at him quietly. “You’ll give everything away.”

           “I’m not that stupid, Malfoy!”

           “Don’t call me Malfoy,” Draco said, staring at Harry in disbelief. “Honestly!”

           Harry glanced down sheepishly. “It was a mistake.”

           “Let’s just get through today in one piece, okay?” Draco said, opening his book.

           “Psst, Harry!”

           Draco turned around to find Weasley leaning in towards him. “What?”

           “You feeling alright?” Ron asked, wrinkling his nose. “There’s plenty of other seats if you don’t want to sit next to him.”Ron looked pointedly at Harry in Draco’s body.

           “I’m perfectly fine, thank you!” Draco scoffed, turning around and pulling his chair in to get as far away from the weasel as possible. He could feel Harry staring at him and so he glanced over. “What?”

           “Sorry about that,” Harry said contritely. “Must look strange, us sitting together.”

           “I suppose,” Draco said, glancing around the room and noticing quite a few sets of eyes staring at them. He tightened his grip on his book and elected to ignore them.

                                                           ***

           Harry was about to head down for dinner when someone grabbed him and shoved him onto a bed. “Alright then, Draco,” Blaise said, pointing his wand at Harry and whispering Incarcerous. “What’s going on?”

           “Have you lost your mind?” Harry asked, struggling against the ropes binding his arms and legs. He could only hope this wasn’t what Draco and Zabini normally did when they were “having fun.”

           “Tell me what’s going on!” Zabini yelled, continuing to point his wand at Harry. “You’ve been acting weird all day. If this is about last night then just talk to me, Draco. I thought we both knew what we were getting into. We’re at least still friends, right?”

           Harry stopped struggling and softened. He knew Draco wanted him to keep his mouth shut but he couldn’t under the circumstances. It wasn’t exactly fair to Zabini to keep him thinking he had done something wrong when he really hadn’t. They hadn’t really talked about it but Draco must have wanted to snog Blaise, right?  “I’m not Draco,” Harry told him. “I’m Harry Potter.”

           “What?” Blaise said, scratching his head in confusion. “You can’t be serious.”

           “I’m afraid so.”

           “What is this?” Blaise asked, gesturing towards Harry with his wand. “Polyjuice potion or something?”

           “No, uh, I’m pretty sure Draco and I are…soulmates.”

           “Fucking hell,” Blaise said, stumbling back. He quickly released Harry from the spell. He brought his hand up and smacked himself on the head. “All those things I said to you today! Oh shit, I kissed you as well.”

           “Yeah,” Harry said, wrinkling his nose at the memory. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that again.”

           “Draco’s going to kill me.”

           Harry rubbed his wrists where they had been bound tight. “He can’t be any angrier with you than he is at me.”

           Blaise snorted. “Angry with you?” he said with a knowing smirk. “I doubt it. I’m pretty sure this is the best day of his life. I mean Harry Potter is his soulmate.”

           “That’s quite enough, Blaise.”

           Draco appeared from under the invisibility cloak and Blaise screamed, backing away so quickly that he stumbled and fell on his arse. “How did you do that?”

           “Quite handy this cloak,” Draco said, smirking over at Harry.

           “You went through my stuff?” Harry said incredulously. “Why not just invade all my privacy while you’re at it!”

           Draco shrugged. “I got bored. Spending time with Weasley and Granger is so frightfully dull.”

           Harry narrowed his eyes at him. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

           “Fuck,” Blaise said from the ground. “You two really have switched bodies.”

           “Very perceptive of you, Blaise,” Draco said, walking over to his bed and sitting down. “Now leave. Potter and I have things to discuss. And keep everyone else out while you’re at it.”

           “Yep, that’s definitely Draco,” Blaise said, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet. “Have fun you two love birds.”

           Harry walked over and sat beside Draco on the bed. Draco wordlessly handed over the invisibility cloak and Harry tucked it under his arm. “So what did you want to talk about?” he asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

           “I think you’re right,” Draco said, looking down at his hands.

           “I’m sorry?” Harry said, putting his finger behind his ear. “I think I must have misheard you.”

           “Shut it, Potter,” Draco said, giving him a shove. “I spent part of my afternoon in the library looking into soulmate magic. It usually happens when one person is having a crisis of conscience and needs some clarity.”

“You think you triggered it when you kissed Zabini?”

Draco nodded. “I could barely sleep last night after Blaise left my bed.”

Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I really don’t want any details.” He already was well aware of what it felt like the kiss Zabini. He didn’t really want to hear about Draco doing the same. Especially not now that he knew Draco was his soulmate. Thinking about it made something unpleasant twist in his stomach.

Draco glanced over at Harry and sighed. “I don’t know if this makes everything more or less confusing than it was.”

           Harry reached out and took Draco’s hand, lacing their fingers together. It was beyond strange holding his own hand. “I’m not…upset that you’re my soulmate. If that helps.”

           “Really?” Draco asked, sounding skeptical. “I would have thought I would be the last one you’d want as a soulmate.”

           “Well, there’s Voldemort, Umbridge, Snape, Filch, Mrs. Norris, Nearly Headless Nick, Peeves, your father, your aunt. I can think of some worse people to get stuck with.” Harry couldn’t help grinning at Draco. He hoped in some small way he was helping Draco feel better about all this. Even if he had to tell a horrible jokes to do it.

           Draco shook his head. “You’re such a git, Potter.”

           “Apparently that’s what you’re into,” Harry teased, giving Draco’s hand a squeeze. “Since I’m your soulmate and all.”

           Draco ducked his head down to hide his smile. “Must be.”

                                                           ***

           Draco’s eyes fluttered open and was relieved to find himself staring at the face of Harry Potter. He reached out and brushed Harry’s fringe off his forehead, getting a good look at his scar for what felt like the first time. He hadn’t really paid much attention to it when he’d been in Harry’s body. He traced it with his fingertip and Harry smiled with his eyes still closed.

           “What are you doing?”

           “Enjoying not being you,” Draco quipped, getting to the end of the scar and moving his finger back up to the top to trace it again. They’d decided last night that the best course of action would be for both of them to stay the night just in case they didn’t switch their bodies back. If they woke up still as each other they would go to the infirmary first thing. It seemed like that wouldn’t be necessary anymore and that meant that they really were soulmates.

           “What’s so wrong with that, eh?” Harry asked, peeking his eyes open. “You know a lot of your comments are going to lose their bite now that I know you fancy me.”

           Draco scoffed. “I’m insulted that you think I can’t get creative with my comments.”

           Harry chuckled and scooted closer. “I think you’re going to have a lot less reasons to be rude to me,” Harry said, cupping his hand around the nape of Draco’s neck and bringing their lips together in a soft kiss. “After all, I’m your soulmate.”

           “Don’t start using that as an excuse for everything, Potter,” Draco warned, sliding his fingers through Harry’s messy hair. “It’s not a free pass for being an idiot.”

           Harry huffed in amusement and kissed Draco again. “As if I’d expect you to let me get away with anything.”

           Draco hummed happily against Harry’s lips. “Maybe some things,” he conceded if that meant Harry kissing him some more. To his surprise, Harry did kiss him again. And again. Draco found he couldn’t stop smiling and staring at Harry with his own two eyes with such reverence. “Soulmate.”

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 20

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 10,096

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Turns out once you've smooched a guy on the nose, things like holding his hand and other such minor displays of affection no longer seem so daunting.

Sure, even as I reached for his hand now, some small amount of mental self-cheerleading was still required in order to work myself up to it. And okay, the tiny flutter in my chest when my fingers brushed against his almost had me pulling back faster than you could say 'emotion-phobia.' But I didn't. And hey, this was way more than I could have brought myself to do even just a few short days ago. This was kind of huge for me, so I think I'd earned the right to take a little pride in my headway so far. Who knew, I just might pull off my half of this whole pretend dating deal yet.

Lea glanced down at my touch. Then he grinned, pulling my hand up to press a soft kiss to the back of it before setting it back down on the dinner table, his thumb trailing light circles along my knuckles. Picking right back up where he'd left off in the conversation, he said, "Oh yeah, GUMMI ships got all sorts of badass tech going on now, the likes of which would put both Star Trek and Star Wars to shame. Super, ultra, mega-laser cannons, impenetrable force fields, swarms of nanobots that can repair any and all damage just like that," he snapped his fingers. Lea then planted an elbow on the table and leaned forward to add in a conspiratorial whisper, "They even have defense systems in the form of giant, exploding space duckies."

Saïx gave him a flat look from where he sat on the other side of the table from us. "Not true."

"Sure it is!" Lea chirped, straightening back up in his chair. "I mean, how else are they gonna fight all those aliens out there?"

Propping my cheek in my free palm, I cocked an eyebrow at him as I felt an upward tug at one corner of my lips. "Aliens? As in little green men?"

"No, no, that'd just be silly," he waved off with a scoff. "As in lil shadow men. Creepy bastards with big, yellow eyes and twitchy antennae." Still holding my hand, he brought both of his own up to either side of his head, miming said antennae with his index fingers.

Closing his eyes, Saïx gave a low sigh into his wine glass. "Also not true."

Lea shrugged, "Oh sure, they're not all like that. There was that blue one they found over in Hawaii, what was its code name again… Experiment 626? Yeah, the government got that one covered up real fast. And don't even get me started on the total dreadnought that is Schwarzgeist lurking out there somewhere in the night sky that absolutely obliterated the USS Endymion."

"The sheer amount of not true you are spouting off right now is positively staggering," Saïx deadpanned, eyelids drooping as he dabbed his napkin to his mouth. "You really need to stop staying up late every night reading all those conspiracy theories out there on the internet."

Lips curling into an evil smirk, Lea said, "But how else am I gonna royally piss you off so much?"

That earned him a small scowl from his brother.

This was basically it. The whole evening in a nutshell from the moment I'd stepped foot into Lea's apartment. Like me, it seemed that Saïx was not much of a talker, at least not amongst strangers. Unlike me however, it appeared to have less to do with social anxiety and more like he just plain wasn't a fan of the whole talking thing and so only did it when he deemed it absolutely necessary. Which I could totally respect. It was just that between the two of us, it had a tendency to leave a bit of a void in the conversation every now and then. Luckily, it was void that Lea was only too happy to fill.

Saïx had been the one to cook dinner. It seemed that that was part of the breakdown of chores in their living arrangement: he usually handled supper while breakfast was Lea's job. Saïx and I had already emptied our plates by now while Lea was still working on his, seeing as how he was otherwise preoccupied with talking a mile a minute. The meal had been a very nice chicken bruschetta pasta paired with a red wine from a fancy looking bottle. The latter I'd thought to be a bit of an odd choice, as I didn't picture Lea being much of a wine drinker. But there he was, sipping away at it, pinkie raised as he did so for an added bit of flair. I guess he just wasn't picky and would drink whatever was put in front of him. I, on the other hand, had decided not to partake. Would rather keep a clear head during this bit of subterfuge we were playing out in front of Saïx.

The point was, there was wine. And wine equaled a wine tipsy Lea. And a wine tipsy Lea, as I was discovering, equaled a chatty Lea. The boy was already chatty to begin with, but this was an all new level. This was chatty on steroids. Needless to say, he was having no trouble whatsoever keeping the conversation rolling.

"Why are we even discussing the GUMMI space program again?" Saïx asked in his bored monotone.

Lea drove his fork down into his pasta, twirling it around. "You know you're always a total slut for outer space, man. The moon and constellations and all that crap is your jam."

"Yes, but our guest," he gestured towards me, "might not find the topic nearly so interesting."

Trailing a finger along the rim of my still full wine glass, I said, "Actually, I've been fascinated by the research their lead mechanical scientist Cid Highwind has been doing in the field of warping technology. With his help, it might not be long before our ships can travel to other solar systems."

Both men just blinked silently at me for a moment.

What? So I liked to keep up on current events by reading a news article every now and again online. It really was not a big deal.

Saïx was the one to speak up first. "Yes. It's said Highwind is hoping to have a working prototype in less than five years."

Do my eyes deceive me? Was that the hint of a smile ghosting over Saïx's mouth?

Oh wow, I think I'd managed to score some points.

...not that it mattered, of course. Since this was only a fake relationship, after all, so getting in the brother's good graces didn't really mean all that much to me. Not one bit. Nope.

Nuzzling his nose to my ear, Lea beamed, "Hell yeah! My baby knows shit!"

"More than you do at least," Saïx sniffed blandly.

Expression relaxing into a sly grin now, he shot back, "I know enough to know about an astral sea monster whose sheer mass is gargantuan enough to blot out the very sun, the terror of the cosmos, eater of spacecrafts and destroyer of worlds, the dreaded galactic space whale," he paused for dramatic effect before splaying a hand out before him as he intoned in hushed reverence, "...Monstro."

Saïx grumbled under his breath and facepalmed.

"By my count, that's the eighth time he's done that tonight," Lea stage whispered to me. "Just five more and I'll have beat my all-time record."

I gave a low hum of amusement. "I suppose it's important to have goals in life."

He snorted, returning his attention to his food as he scooped a forkful into his mouth. I noticed that he'd incidentally stained one side of his lips in the process and I had a brief flashback to a familiar scene of Sora and Kairi. Of the pair of them sitting in the food court and Kairi kissing away a similarly located blotch on her boyfriend. Now that right there had been a seriously advanced dating technique and one I was in no way ready to try out myself. You kidding me? I was still very much a beginner here and the very idea of trying to pull off such a maneuver already had my ears turning pink. That said, a newbie like me still had some options, especially with my newfound ability to make the first move and actually touch my (fake) boyfriend without completely spazzing out.

I tucked in my lower lip, hesitating briefly as my pulse thudded a little more loudly against my eardrums. But then I slowly lifted my hand.

Lea visibly stiffened as he felt my thumb brush at the corner of his mouth, wiping the smudge away. As I began to retract my arm however, he dropped his fork to snatch my wrist and stop me. I arched an eyebrow at him. He smiled back with hooded eyes. Then he gently tugged my thumb up to his lips and licked the sauce off it.

Breath hitching, I yanked my hand free of his grasp. His smile just turned smug as he winked at me.

Apparently, Wine Tipsy Lea had even less boundaries than usual.

As I wiped my thumb with a napkin and ducked my head to hide my boiling cheeks, I heard Saïx mutter, "One has to wonder what a woman of your obvious intelligence and sophistication even sees in an asinine clown such as my brother."

"Well let me think about it," Lea's eyes danced as he folded his hands together, steepling his index fingers so the joined tips touched his mouth. "Perhaps it's my devilish charm and debonair good looks?"

"Oh come now," he said cooly with another sip of his wine, "if you're going to be making things up, you should attempt to make them at least halfway credible."

"He makes me laugh," I suddenly heard myself saying. As both pairs of eyes turned towards me, I immediately felt self-conscious. I mean seriously, what a stupid, cliché thing to say. But that didn't make it any less true, any less… meaningful. I wasn't someone who laughed a lot. In fact, before I'd run out on my wedding, I could probably count the number of times I'd laughed in the last year on one hand.

Fidgeting with my fingers, I pushed forward, "He's sweet… and thoughtful. And genuine. He's not afraid to be himself. And because of that, I find it easier to be… myself... around him." Another thing that did not come easy to me.

As Lea slipped an arm around my shoulders so he could pull me closer and plant a swift peck to my temple, Saïx gave a soft harrumph, "Well, I guess there's no accounting for taste."

"Psst, Saïx," Lea lowered his voice, bending forward over the table and cupping a hand to his mouth. "The moon landing was faked."

With a heavy sigh through his nose, he merely rose from his chair and started gathering the plates and silverware together. As he reached for mine, I protested, "No, that's okay, I can take care of it."

"You're the guest," he said simply as he swiped it up in one smooth motion.

"Best not argue, otherwise he might unleash his berserker wrath on you," Lea sniggered to me. However, when Saïx next took his plate away (still with food on it), he snapped, "Hey! I wasn't done with that!"

"Then you should have eaten faster," he responded dryly.

He stuck his tongue out at him. "Oh yeah? Well the earth is flat." As Saïx turned towards the kitchen, the plates stacked in his hand "accidentally" smacked into Lea's forehead, forcing a small grunt out of him.

I hid a grin behind my hand as Lea pressed his fingertips to the fresh sore spot with a soft tch. Then he downed the rest of his wine as he stood up himself, gathering the other glasses between his fingers on one hand while balling up napkins together in the other. He looked at me, face brightening, "Why don'tcha go on and take a seat in the living room. I'll join ya after I finish helping Saïx clean up."

"Alright," I nodded. He used a hand (the one stuffed full of napkins) to pull my seat out as I stood and gave him a tiny smile before moving past him. Reaching the blue sofa, I moved some of its mismatched pillows to clear a space and took a seat on the far end, tugging the hem of my dress down to cover my knees as I listened to the sound of running water and clinking dishware coming from the kitchen.

I didn't have to wait long before the boys were rejoining me. Lea came bounding over first, plopping himself unceremoniously down onto the couch with me.

Leaving one whole cushion space between us.

I furrowed my brow over at him. However, I did not have to wonder for long at his unexpected seating choice.

For next thing I knew, he'd flopped over onto his side and was using my lap as a makeshift pillow.

My eyes widened and I jolted, one hand going to my chest. His cheek nestled against my leg as one hand went to my knee, his thumb tracing lightly along its top curve over the fabric. "Mmm… you're comfy!" he sighed contentedly.

It was official. Wine Tipsy Lea had absolutely zero boundaries.

Halfway into taking a seat into a maroon armchair to our right, Saïx stopped. Then he straightened back up to his full height with a tired, drawn-out huff. "Perhaps some coffee would be in order."

I gradually relaxed, my eyes crinkling as I glanced down at Lea with a resigned smile. He was like a kitten cuddling into my lap. A really big kitten. I half expected him to start purring. "Perhaps that might be for the best," I murmured in agreement.

My eyes lifted long enough to follow Saïx as he made his way back over towards their kitchen, long blue hair swaying behind him as he went. When I looked back down, I realized with a tiny start that one of my hands had taken it upon itself to start lightly stroking Lea's hair.

Huh. How did that cheeky little devil get there?

I should stop.

But it was just so very... soft. Softer than I remembered. So soft that it felt like I was doing something wrong, something… forbidden by daring to touch it.

...okay, I really, really needed to stop.

...ten seconds. Just ten more measly, innocent seconds, then I'd stop.

There was a low, pleased hum in Lea's throat as my fingers continued to slowly run through his fiery locks. Then he rolled over onto his back, capturing my hand with his to press a gentle kiss into my palm. It tickled and my heart stuttered as I felt a familiar heat creeping up my neck. He... did know Saïx was no longer nearby to witness this little production he was putting on... right? Then again, maybe Lea was too far gone by now to realize his brother had left the room and so was still on boyfriend autopilot. Cradling my hand to his chest just over his heart, his other came up to start fiddling with the end of my braid from where it hung forward over my shoulder as he grinned up at me. "Wanna know?"

My head tipped to one side, "...know what?"

"You said what you see in me, so now it's my turn. Wanna know what I see in you?"

I blinked at him. Then my eyes briefly flicked over to Saïx just beyond the island counter where he was filling a coffee maker with water. Could he hear us all the way over there? Hopefully… this might be good for show. With a low snort, I planted my elbow on the armrest next to me, propping my cheek against my knuckles as I dropped my gaze back to Lea. "Sure, why not? Go for it."

This should be good.

His grin twitched wider. "You're kooky."

...well I certainly wasn't disappointed.

Though that wasn't quite the word I would have expected out of him. In fact, not the word I would have ever expected out of anyone when used to describe me.

One of my eyebrows quirked. "I'm… kooky?"

He nodded, "Mm-hm! Most people don't know it, but it's there. Way, way deep down in here," he tapped a finger to a spot just below my collarbone before going back to toying with my braid. "Ya try to keep it hidden. Don't like people seeing that side of you for some reason. But I've caught glimpses of it. I like it. Makes me feel like I'm in on a secret no one else is. And you're fun. Hella smart, too. And so goddamn pretty."

"That so?" I muttered, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

Wine Tipsy Lea was laying it on a bit thick.

Still… I was smiling despite myself.

"And that. Right there," he tapped a finger to my lips. "Your smile is gorgeous. Was the first thing about you that had me head over heels. I love being the one to put it there. Love being the one that can make you laugh."

Did I say a bit thick? Try instead a lot thick. Too thick. Like two metric tons too thick. Jeez, perhaps I'd be better off hoping Saïx couldn't actually hear all this. Even he might think it a bit too much to be believable.

Lea's eyes softened as he continued to stare up at me, his hand shifting over from my mouth to lightly graze his curled fingers against my cheek, leaving tiny tingles in their wake. "...I wish we were real."

Insert record screech.

E-E-Excuse me?!

My heart stopped. Like legit full on stopped. There were at least three full seconds there where if a medical examiner had checked my pulse, they would have probably declared me dead.

Lea froze, his whole body locking up. His eyes grew round and his face blanched, his expression now a perfect mirror of what I imagined my own must have looked like in that exact moment as he seemingly and immediately realized his mistake.

Now I definitely hoped Saïx couldn't overhear us! There seemed to be no reaction from over in the kitchen beyond the sound of water beginning to boil. Which was good. Maybe our cover wasn't blown and-

...and so not the point right now! The point was… was…

Ex-friggin'-scuse me?!

Wish we were real? What did that even mean? Real what? Did he mean that he wanted… that he wished he and I… that we were a… an actual, honest to god coupl-

No! No, I must have misheard. Yeah, that had to be it! He hadn't said… er… what I thought he'd said. No, what he'd probably actually said was, uh… was he wished we were… seals. Yeah, that's probably what it was! Seals were neat! And… and cute! I wouldn't blame him for wanting to be one, especially in his less than totally sober state! Or… or… he could have said that he… he fished… for Neil. Who was Neil, one might wonder? Got me! But you know what? Good for Lea, helping his ol' pal Neil out with fishing like that. Nice guy, that Lea. Such a giver, such a-

"TORS!" Lea suddenly shouted, practically making me jump out of my skin as he shot up off my lap and scooted all the way over to sit at the opposite end of the couch. He had a hand clasped over his nose and mouth, doing a poor job of hiding his reddened (wine flushed?) face. "Realtors! I wish we were realtors, is what I was trying to say!" he hastily clarified, shooting a weak chuckle my way.

I stared at him blankly.

Wha…? Realtors…?

Apparently, he wasn't done. "Yeah! You know, one of those power couples you hear about all the time! Partners in everything, from romance to real estate! That's some real lovey-dovey crap right there, don'tcha think? The epitome of passion! The sappiest dream to ever sap! The-"

"What inanity are you babbling on about now?" Saïx returned, causing me for the second time in as many minutes to nearly die of cardiac arrest. He was carrying two steaming mugs, one in each hand.

"Nothing! Not a damn thing! Nope! Total nonsense!" Lea said quickly, snatching up one of the cups and rapidly blowing on the coffee a couple times before knocking back the whole thing in one go. He pulled the cup away from his lips with a wince, probably suffering from a tongue that was now at least mildly burnt. Then he plastered on a grin, "You know how I get when I'm lost in the sauce, man. I start rambling off total bullshit that I don't even mean. Never. Mm-mm, nope, not one bit! Every word of it? Total garbage. Yup! Heh…"

I flinched back from the second warm mug that was suddenly being offered me. I'd barely had a chance to hold up my hand and shake my head before Lea was grabbing that one too, handling this one with smaller, more cautious sips.

...realtors.

Huh.

Okay, sure, why not?

Not like it was any crazier than any of the other explanations I'd come up with myself. Especially when you considered Lea was more than a little buzzed. People said nonsensical things all the time while under the influence. I'd know, I'd seen Anna in a state of three sheets to the wind on more than one occasion. You should have heard half the things she'd blathered on about at the time… adventures through magical winter wonderlands, talking snowmen, singing rock people, whole castles made of-

Shoot, Saïx was talking to me. Or rather, had been talking to me for a while and now seemed to be expecting some sort of reply. Still a little rattled, I scrounged together a flimsy but polite smile, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

One thin eyebrow arched ever so slightly at me as he cradled a fuming mug between his hands. Apparently he'd gone back at some point to get one for himself as well. "...I heard you were present during one of my sleepwalking episodes a couple weeks back. I hope I didn't give you too much of a fright."

"Oh! No! No, it's-" I got distracted as I felt Lea gingerly inching back over to sit beside me. Probably trying to salvage some semblance of the relationship pretense. However, his affections had become somewhat subdued, restricted now to only resting an arm along the sofa cushions behind my head and his knee brushing against mine as he continued to nurse the coffee. Regathering my train of thought, I tried again, "It's, uh… it's alright. Not your fault. Nor was I bothered by it at all. Just had to stay out of your way, is all."

"Still I-"

"Ya know what?" Lea suddenly piped up, plonking the now empty mug down onto the coffee table right next to the first one. "Sorry guys, but I think we gotta call it an early night! I'm beat! And I mean woof! Dog-tired!"

My eyebrows knit together as I glanced over at him. "...but you just chugged two full cups of coffee."

...what are you doing, you fool, shut up! He was probably trying to rescue us by putting a merciful end to what, as of the last five minutes, had officially become one royal disaster of an evening!

He bat a hand through the air, "That? Please, that was just to help sober my drunk ass up! Trust me, caffeine doesn't do jackshit to me when it comes to staying awake."

Saïx's mouth had settled into a flat line as his green gaze shifted back and forth between Lea and me. "Very well," he said finally, closing his eyes as he raised his cup to his lips, "I presume my noise canceling headphones will be a necessity while I work tonight."

I frowned. "Noise canceling…?"

Lea cleared his throat and gave a sheepish chuckle while scratching a spot behind his ear. "He, uh… thinks you're spending the night."

"Oh…" I said slowly before his words had a chance to fully sink in. Then they did. "Oh!" I repeated more loudly, eyes widening as I rocketed up to my feet, "You mean sex!"

...what the actual frick, mouth?!

"Which is a thing!" Apparently, I was only getting started. Panic mode was in full effect now. "A thing d-dating couples do! Which… which we are! Dating, that is. And a couple! Can't, uh… can't forget that part." Dear lord, where's a gag when you need one? "Which, I don't know w-why you would. Because clearly we're a couple. Yup! That's us!" Yeesh, at least when Lea had been yammering off nonsense, he'd had wine coursing through his veins. What was my excuse? "A couple! A couple who, ah…" Oh no. "...who have, er…" Don't you say it. Don't you dare say it. "...who have sex!"

I winced.

Just shoot me. Shoot me now.

"Oh yeah, lots and lots of it!" Oh great. There was more. "All the time! In all s-sorts of, um… places. My room. His room. Oh look," I pointed both my hands towards Lea's door, "there's his room now!" Make an excuse to leave. Any excuse. " I think we'll go in there now and make with all the sex!" Not that excuse! Pause, followed by tiny, nervous laughter from me. "Yup."

Then before I knew it, I'd bolted into said room, door crashing shut behind me. I pressed my back to it, clutching both hands to my mouth as I hyperventilated and trembled, eyes huge and unblinking as I stared off into space, registering absolutely zilch of what was in front of me now.

What.

Did.

I.

Just.

Do?!

You know what, cheeks? I won't even try and stop you this time. You go right on ahead and blush your nonexistent little hearts out. Fry my face to a friggin' crisp, for all I care. I won't judge. You have every right after… that. Whatever the heck that even was just now!

Oh gosh, had I really just gone on and on about, hrm… intimate relations? In front of Lea's brother? That... had to be... the most spectacular case of anxiety-induced word vomit to date from me yet! What was wrong with me? Who does that? No, seriously, I demand answers this instant, what in the everliving-

A soft knock at the door made me yelp and jump away, whipping around to face it, heart trying to jackhammer its way out of my chest. I was greeted by my own frazzled reflection staring back at me from the full-length mirror hanging there. My face could have been mistaken for a ripe, oversized tomato.

"...El?" Lea's muffled voice came through from the other side. "You might've, uh… kinda forgot something."

A crease formed between my eyebrows. Forgot something? No, I don't think so. I glanced down at myself, hands patting over my dress. Phone in pocket? Check. Shoes on feet? Check. No purse, I hadn't used one tonight. No coat, I'd thought it too warm out for it. My gaze settled on the door once more, eyes scrunching. "What did I forget?"

"...me?"

Oh.

Fudge.

After that, ah… stirring speech I'd just given out there a moment ago, it would certainly help drive the point home if I had him in here with me, wouldn't it?

After all, it took two to, ahem... tango.

As I reached a hand towards the doorknob, I realized I hadn't even locked it. Lea must have only been knocking to be considerate. A consideration I greatly appreciated, especially when you take into account that this was in fact his room that I'd taken sanctuary in. Taking a deep breath and expelling it slowly in one last ditch effort to calm my nerves, my still shaking fingers closed around the knob and twisted.

I cracked the door ajar about an inch, just barely enough for me to peek one eye through. Arms crossed and one shoulder propped against the doorframe, Lea tilted his head with a tiny smile, "Hey."

My gaze fell to my feet for a moment before flicking back up to meet his. "...hi."

"Can I come in?"

I hesitated for another heartbeat then nodded, pulling the door open further and taking a couple steps back. He turned his head to one side, calling out a quick, "Night, man!" to Saïx before walking in and closing the door.

Ah, awkward silence. Ye hath returned. Never could stay away from me for long, could you?

"So…" I hugged myself and decided to get into a staring contest with the floor. "...think he likes me?"

Lea snerked, folding one arm behind his back, hand hooking his opposite elbow as he leaned back against the mirror hanging from his door. "You kidding? He adores you. Practically ready to call ya sister-in-law."

I attempted a smile. It came across as more of a grimace. "Even after I was… all…"

"...smooth and cool as a cucumber?" he supplied, his voice chipper. "Absolutely! And you said you couldn't lie," he teased. "You handled that one like a total pro!"

...oh. Wow, he was right. Not about the "pro" part, obviously, but that I had lied. For the first time since this whole charade started, I'd told a straight out, bald-faced lie. It had been a monumental failure, to be sure, but hey… we all had to start somewhere. Guess I had to take my silver linings wherever I could.

"Gah, I should have just made up some sort of… of excuse or something." I started pacing slowly, eyes still downcast as I brought one hand up to chew on my thumbnail. "Said I couldn't stay because I had an opening shift tomorrow."

He shook his head, "Saïx knows you work at the mall with me, so he also knows I woulda happily driven ya over from here, even at the crack of dawn."

Frowning, I tried again, "Well then, I could have said that… ah! That you had an early test tomorrow so I shouldn't be keeping you up late!"

"Nah, he knows me too well," he smirked, waggling his eyebrows. "Knows I'd never let a lil thing like that stop me."

I blinked. Then I buried my face in my hands with a groan. "Oh god, I can never face him again. Not after that." Dragging my palms down to peek out between my fingers, I grumbled, "I'm guessing it's safe to assume he's retracted his 'woman of obvious intelligence and sophistication' comment." Ha. Showed what Saïx knew.

Shrugging one shoulder, he laughed, "I wouldn't worry 'bout it too much. Just another side of your kookiness that I mentioned earlier. 'Sides, he knows what a nervous, jumpy creature you are."

Up quirked one eyebrow. "...he does?"

"Well, he does now."

...fair point.

One that did not make me feel better.

"And look at the bright side," Lea continued. "It's good this happened here rather than in front of your folks! Now you'll be better prepared to handle it the next time it comes up."

My lips twisted sourly, "I guess so." As bad as this already was, it would have spelled utter disaster if that little freakout had occurred during the upcoming weekend with my parents. We're talking one epic catastrophe here, like meteor-taking-out-the-dinosaurs kind of catastrophe. Then again, I didn't particularly see this exact set of circumstances arising while I was around my family. Still… best to be on the safe side. I wrinkled my brow, "Better prepared… how?"

"Ah, well…" he pursed his lips to one side, tapping a finger against his other arm. "For starters… and I'm just spitballing here, but next time you could maybe just, ya know… not say the word sex repeatedly? If at all? I'm thinking this is 'less is more' kinda situation."

"...good call."

"Heh," he paused, rubbing his shoulder. "So... looks like we're bunkmates."

I lowered my gaze once more and brought my curled fingers up to my mouth, covering my deepening frown. "Yeah… looks like…"

I wish we were real.

Gah, why was I still even thinking about that?! Lea had already explained it, hadn't he? Realtors. The word he had actually said, had been in the middle of saying, was realtors. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just the ramblings of a guy who'd had a little too much to drink. Why was I still stuck on this?

My face must have been an open book. "Listen, I… meant what I said earlier," he spoke abruptly and my eyes darted up to lock on his. He averted his gaze and scratched his cheek, "You can't take anything I say too seriously when I've been drinking. Often my brain is just stringing random words together and spitting out the first arbitrary bullshit it can come up with. Like a toddler that's just learned to talk, regurgitating words it doesn't even understand just cuz it heard it from someone else at some point. Half the time, the things I say when I'm liquored up don't even make any sense." His eyes settled on me once more, this time accompanied by a weak smile. "So just don't be too… concerned about any gibberish that came blurting outta my stupid drunk mouth, 'kay? And you won't hear another peep of it tonight. Those two coffees are kicking in fast, so I'm much more clear headed now."

I tugged at my braid before folding my arms tightly together once more. "...okay."

And now onward to Act 1, Scene 2 of the award-winning and critically acclaimed musical: Awkward Silence.

"I have a lizard!"

My head rocked back at Lea's sudden declaration out of nowhere, both eyebrows shooting up my forehead. "...a lizard?"

He nodded eagerly, grinning big now. "Yeah! Wanna see? Come take a look!" He moved off to his left towards one corner of the room and for the first time I realized that there was a large glass terrarium situated on a long, low table in that spot. Lea squatted down next to it, waving me over to join him. I obliged and when I got close enough, he took hold of my hand and tugged me down into a crouch beside him. He squinted into the enclosure for a second, scanning all the rocks and plants inside before, "Ah-ha!" He pointed, tapping his finger against the glass, "There he is!"

And indeed, there he was, curled up inside a small, hollowed out log and blinking back at us. He was a tiny thing, all big eyes and blue skin except for the purple markings running down his back. "Oh wow," I slowly smiled, "you really do have a lizard. Why didn't you say anything last time I was here?"

"Cuz 'come into my bedroom so I can introduce you to my lizard' sounds a lil sketch, don'tcha think?" he chuckled, waggling his pointer finger up and down at his pet in greeting.

A soft snort. "Yeah, that might have earned you a dubious look." The critter crawled out into the open now, giving us a curious look. "Can I hold him?"

Lea flashed some dimple, "Course!" Straightening up, he moved the terrarium's lamps to one side before sliding out the lid and reaching inside, mumbling, "C'mere, Bruni." Picking the reptile up, he then offered him to me, "Now, the lil guy's usually shy at first but warms up quick and can be a bit of a flirt."

I stood as well, holding one hand out. Bruni cautiously put one stubby-toed foot on my fingers, eyeing me warily before fully walking the rest of the way into my palm. He was small enough to fit perfectly in it. Then he cocked his head up at me. I cocked mine back then hummed a low laugh, stroking a finger along the top of his head. That seemed to be all it took to win him over, for he then bellyflopped into a cuddle against my palm before rolling over onto his back.

"Bit of a flirt indeed," I murmured, rubbing his tummy with my fingertip. "What kind is he?"

"Salamander. Which, I know, technically not a lizard. But feels simpler most of the time just telling people that's what he is." He fell silent for a second, eyes crinkling as he watched us. Then he walked past me, saying, "Hey, welcome to my room by the way!"

I turned to face him and for the first time got a real good look at the place. If I had to pick one word to describe it, that word would be pandemonium.

Clothes were strewn about everywhere, covering floor and furniture alike - pretty much anywhere conceivable besides actually inside a dresser. Bookshelves stacked high with no rhyme or reason, textbooks next to movie DVDs (from action thriller to cornball classics) next to game CD cases next to vinyl records. Walls and ceiling plastered with posters, mostly of classic rock bands, but there was the occasional renegade: one here in which a dangerous looking man posed with an Assassin's Creed logo across the bottom, another one there depicting a grim reaper character dual-wielding sickles that looked to be from another video game of some sort. A queen-sized bed with black and red sheets buried beneath a mess of paper and more textbooks, along with a closed laptop and his shoulder bag tossed carelessly on top of it all.

And that was just barely scratching the chaotic surface. Needless to say, it was a lot to take in.

"Pardon the mess," he gave a rueful chuckle, scrambling to snatch clothes up off the carpet here and there to chuck into the laundry basket residing in his open closet, just under a black, full-length coat hanging from the rung in there. "Wasn't expecting any overnight visitors."

"It's, uh…" So many adjectives, so little time. As I searched for a word, I felt Bruni crawling up my sleeve. I kept an eye on him to make sure he didn't slip, but otherwise let him do his own thing. At last, I settled on, "...big."

"Yup! I got the masters! Comes complete with its own bathroom and everything," he jerked a thumb towards a second closed door on the other side of the room. By now, Bruni had found his way onto my shoulder and was snuggling into the crook of my neck. My fingers came up to pet along his spine. Narrowing his eyes on the salamander, Lea went on, "Surprisingly, Saïx prefers the smaller, cozier room. He's a minimalist, so not like he needs all that much space anyhow. Which works out for me, especially since I used to, er… heh, shall we say, host more sleepovers?"

I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth, but whatever I'd been about to say was forever lost.

For that's when Bruni did it.

He took the plunge.

Straight down into the neckline of my dress.

I yelped, arms crossing over my bosom. Lea's eyes widened, "Motherfu-" He lunged forward, hands outstretched before him like he had every intention of going down in there after Bruni. Then Lea froze, seemed to think better of it and instead folded his arms together, shoving his hands into his armpits as he looked away. "You, uh…" he cleared his throat, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, "...you okay?"

"Yeah. Just tickles a bit," I wrinkled my nose, trying not to squirm as I felt the little guy climbing around against my chest. Thankfully, it wasn't long before he moved over to start making his way down my sleeve. I gave my arm a gentle shake to help speed his progress along and eventually he came tumbling out into my palm.

"Sorry 'bout that," Lea scooped him back out of my hand into his, using the other to ruffle his hair with a tiny, bashful smile. "I know I said he was a flirt, but he's never been this brazenly forward before."

Shaking my head with a snerk, I said, "It's fine, really. Don't worry about it."

Walking back over to the terrarium, he turned a scowl onto the salamander. "And what do you have to say for yourself, young man?" Bruni just answered with a lizard grin, flicking his tongue out to lick his own eyeball. "Smug lil shit," Lea grumbled, setting him back down inside his home.

One corner of my lips twitching up, I turned to take another look around his room. Despite Lea's hasty tidying up, his carpet was still a disaster zone of shirts and other garments. As I began to carefully navigate it, I asked, "So how are we doing this?"

"Doing…?" I could hear the frown in his voice.

I looked back at him. "Sleeping arrangements?"

"Oh! That's easy!" Having now set the lid and lamps back into their rightful places, Lea walked towards me with his grin resurfacing. "You get the bed, I'll take the floor."

My eyelids drooped. "You can't sleep on the floor, that's ridiculous. It's your room."

"Exactly!" he started clearing the papers up off his comforter, gathering them all together and tucking them away inside one of the textbooks. "It's my room, so I'll sleep wherever I want in it! And tonight, the floor's looking pretty damn good!"

I huffed. "Enough with the chivalry already. I'll sleep on the floor."

He picked up his laptop and made his way over to a large mound of clothes. Oh wait. There was a desk hiding under there, or so I realized as soon as he started shoving all the shirts and whatnot aside. Placing the laptop down on top of it, he then shrugged back at me, "Hey, if that'll make ya happy, more power to ya. Doesn't change the fact that I will not be taking my siesta in that bed tonight."

A low harrumph in my throat. "Fine."

"Fine," he agreed, now opposite the bed from me as he hung his bag from a wall hook there. Then he squinted one eye at me, "So it's settled then. We're both sleeping on the floor. Like the couple of rational, mature, grown-ass adults that we are. While the perfectly good bed goes to waste. Cuz that makes total sense."

I shot him a deadpan look. "Alright, fine then. Bruni gets the bed."

He slapped his forehead, dragging his hand down his face with an exasperated laugh. "C'mon, El, will you just take the bed please? I won't be able to fall asleep if I know you're just curled up on the floor."

"Sounds like not my problem," I crossed my arms with a smirk. Oh-ho, that's right. I could be stubborn when I wanted to be.

"Woman! Just take the freaking bed before I throw you in the damn thing!" both his hands gestured in mild annoyance at said bed.

Scoffing, I turned my head to one side. "Please, it's the twenty-first century, your neanderthal tactics won't work on me."

Green eyes flashing, he said in a low, even voice, "They will if I make good on 'em."

My gaze narrowed on him now. "You wouldn't dare."

He bent forward, fists planted on the mattress as he gave me a tiny glare across it. "Wanna bet?"

My legs turned traitor and defected, sitting me down on the bed so quick, you would have missed the motion if you'd blinked.

"There now," his face immediately lit up like the first rays of sunlight at dawn. "Was that so hard?"

I made a little hmph in my throat, tucking my legs beside me as I smoothed my dress over my knees with as much dignity as I could muster. "I'll have you know that I chose of my own free will to take the bed tonight and it had nothing to do with any thinly veiled threats that may or may not have been made on your part." I unzipped my ankle boots, letting them fall to the carpet below with a couple of heavy thuds. "I mean, I am the guest after all, it's only proper etiquette that I sleep in the bed. I'm just making sure you're adequately performing your role as the host."

A soft snerk came from his nose as he kicked off his own shoes and spread his arms wide to give me a mock bow, "Well, thank you, Miss Manners, I dunno what I'd ever do without you."

"You're welcome," I sniffed lightly. It was nice of him to let me have this. I then felt the bed quake beneath me as Lea flopped down beside me, stretching out comfortably and cushioning his head with his arms. I blinked down at him. "...I'm sorry, did that conversation just end differently than I thought it did?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Hm?"

"Thought you were taking the floor."

"I am, but that's not until lights out. Right now, we're just chilling!" he beamed. But then his expression relaxed and he propped himself up slightly on his elbows, cocking his head at me. "This is okay, right?"

"Er…" I glanced away, gnawing on my bottom lip.

Yeesh, I seriously needed to grow up. This wasn't a big deal. Like, at all. So what if we were sitting in the same bed? Nothing to freak out about. I mean, sure, I'd never shared a bed with a guy before, not even my ex. Come to think of it, I'd never even been in a boy's bedroom before. But hey, there was a first time for everything. This would be fine. I would be fine.

"...yeah, it's okay," I finally responded. He frowned, not looking convinced. I put on my best brave smile and managed a tiny laugh, "Really, it's fine." Or at least it would be once we stopped talking about it. Wanting to move the conversation along to something else, I searched my brain for a new topic. "So… you and Saïx…" I drew my knees up, hugging them to my chest, "...do you always mess with each other like that?"

"Oh yeah, all the time," he chuckled, settling back down into his pillow and folding one arm back behind his head. "Nothing says you care like making the other person's life a constant living hell!"

Settling my chin down onto my knees, I snorted. "Remind me never to let you care about me."

"Too late!" he chirped. My eyeroll belied the tiny cartwheel my stomach was doing. "'Sides, all siblings are like that. I'm sure you and Anna have terrorized the crap outta each other more times than you can even count."

"Well yeah," I turned my head to look over at him, resting my ear to my legs instead, "but that was way back when we were children. We grew out of it a long time ago."

Lea grinned cheekily, "Oh really? I seem to recall a certain someone chasing her sister 'round the living room trying to straight up murder her dead not hardly more than a week ago."

Wow, had that really only been just last week? It felt like eons ago by this point. A soft noise of contempt huffed out through my nose, "Don't exaggerate. I didn't try to murder her."

"How did it go again? ...ah, I believe your exact words to her were, and I quote, 'dip you in liquid nitrogen, snap every frozen limb off your body one by one, and then I'll kill you.' That about sum it up?"

I pursed my lips to the right, "...there were extenuating circumstances."

"Heh," he stared up at the ceiling, "if ya say so."

I lifted my head back up, my arms loosening somewhat around my legs as I considered my next words carefully. "About Saïx… can I ask what happened?" Lea glanced back at me quizzically and I clarified, "I mean with…" I tapped a finger to the bridge of my nose.

"Oh, his scar?" he rolled over onto his side towards me, bracing his head in one hand. "Old battle wound from our time in the foster system. Same shithead who let us two numbskull brats play with a chainsaw. Negligent and abusive. Real winning combo there, huh?"

"You mean a foster parent did that to him? On purpose? That's terrible," I breathed, looking horrified.

"S'okay," he gave a one-shouldered shrug, then smirked wickedly. "I retaliated by burning his house down."

My eyes widened, "Did you really?"

Lea sighed, "Unfortunately, no, but not for lack of trying. Only managed to set a bed ablaze and blacken a few curtains before the fire department showed up."

I stared at him blankly. "I am just... simply amazed that you survived long enough to make it to adulthood. Either of you."

He blew out an amused pft through his teeth. "Yeah, Saïx and I were definitely prime candidates for the Darwin Awards growing up. Told ya, we were lil hellions forged straight from the fiery pits of El Diablo. Hey, speaking of Ol' Bullseye over there..." he trailed off as he suddenly sat himself up.

"Bullseye?" I asked, arching an eyebrow his way while watching him fold his legs beneath himself so he could stand on his knees atop the mattress.

"Ya know. Mr. X-Marks-The-Spot," he tacked on by way of explanation, abruptly shoulder-slamming into the wall behind us just above his pillows and making me jolt.

...the heck?

"...you mean Saïx?" I furrowed my brow, wincing as he followed it up by crashing his elbow against the wall next. "Aren't those nicknames a bit… mean?" My question was punctuated with another loud thump.

Seriously, what on earth…?.

"Nah, he likes it." Whack! "Knows they're terms of endearment." Bang! "Only from me though. Anyone else ever even so much as thought about calling him anything like that, I'd make sure next time they turned up would be in a bodybag." Whump! "'Sides, you should hear half the shit he calls me, especially when he's royally ticked." Thwack! "This one time, he-"

"Wait. Hold it. Stop," I held up my hands, eyes flicking back and forth between him and the wall. "...what exactly is it that you are doing?"

"Huh?" he stilled, blinking at me a couple times. "Oh this?" his shoulder rammed into the surface once more. "This is the wall I share with Saïx's room."

...well okay then, sure, that totally and one hundred percent cleared up my utter confusion and lack of comprehension.

Not.

"Alright," I said, stretching the word out. "And so…?"

"So he's come to expect a certain level of enthusiasm on my part whenever I'm entertaining a lady friend," Lea winked and clicked his tongue before once again striking the wall.

"Oh?" I frowned down at my hands. Then it clicked with another louder, "Oh!" Followed by a slower, more quiet, "Oh…" Cheeks warming now, I looked back over at him, "You mean you… that is, against the wall, you've… oh." A pause while my eyes shifted about in my awkwardness. "But wouldn't the headboard get in the-" I stopped, glancing back over my shoulder and answering my own question. "Oh… oh, I see. No headboard. Got it. How very, er..." I cleared my throat and ducked my head to my knees, muffling into them, "...very practical."

I heard him snerk as the beating the wall was taking continued. "You're funny when you're flustered, ya know that?"

My face cranked up the heat dial even further and I scowled.

If you listened closely, the signs of a very steady, very distinct rhythm to the pounding could be heard beginning to take shape.

...I needed to stop listening so closely.

My eyebrows knit together as I then remembered something. "Wait… didn't Saïx say something about noise canceling headphones?"

"Well yeah, so he's not hearing any of this, but he can still see whenever any of the crap on his shelves or any framed pictures or anything else that might be up against his side o' the wall shakes from the impact," he shrugged, halting to puff out a noisy breath and wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. Apparently, he was working up a sweat. Then he grinned brightly, "This is actually kinda fun! Wanna have a go at it?"

I shot him a flat look. "...I think I'm good, thanks."

"You sure?" Another slam. "It's actually pretty satisfying. One might even say cathartic. Got any pent-up aggression you gotta work out?" And another, this one taking the form of a punch. He immediately regretted that one, eliciting a pained hiss as he shook out his now reddening fingers.

"Yeah, no," I rapidly shook my head, "no pent-up aggression here. Fresh out." Insert weak chuckle at my lame joke that was neither funny nor an actual joke.

"Suit yourself," he laughed, smacking the wall hard with an open palm this time. Then his back snapped straight and his face lit up, "Oh yeah! Before I forget…" he pivoted to his left, reaching into his messenger bag he'd hung up earlier and rooting around in it.

I snorted, "Done already?"

"Just giving that wall a breather," he said, not looking up from his searching. "We've found some other surface to bear the brunt of all our lovemaking for now, but we'll probably be back to this one later."

Oh gosh. Way to go, mouth, you just had to ask, didn't you? Just when my cheeks had begun settling down too.

"Ah! Found it!" he triumphantly pulled something out of the bag. Flopping back down to once more lay flat on the bed beside me, he held it out towards me, "Pour vous, ma petite amie jolie."

I squinted at the booklet in his hand. Or more precisely, a catalog. "Twilight University?" I read the bold lettering as I reached out to take it, staring at the image on the cover of a handful of young adults gathered around in a small circle of desks and looking photogenically excited about education.

"Yup! It's the course listings for next semester at my college. Lookie here," he opened the booklet up, leaving it propped in my hands as he started thumbing through it quickly. "Ah, there!" he stopped on a page, resting his head on my shoulder as he pointed to one of several listings that had been circled here. "They offer a few different introductory drama classes ya might be interested in."

I blinked down at the catalog as vague memories of a conversation I'd had with Lea last time I was here to help him study started coming back to me. "...you remembered?" I asked quietly.

"'Course!" I could feel his cheek pull into a smile against my shoulder. "It seemed important to you, so how could I forget?"

Honestly? I myself had forgotten. But to be fair, I had had a lot on my mind the past couple weeks, what with suddenly having a boyfriend now (pretend or otherwise), trying to figure out how to make a proper show of being a girlfriend, and stressing out over the all too soon to come visit with my parents. Frankly, my life had been turned upside down as of late and had become the very definition of insanity. There had just quite simply been no time to think about childhood fantasies of singing and performing in musicals.

But I guess… right here, right now in Lea's room, I had a bit of a reprieve. I mean, it's not like there was anything exactly pressing at this very moment, nothing that couldn't wait until tomorrow at least. I suppose I had a few seconds I could spare to entertain the thought. It couldn't hurt anything…

"...so where is Twilight University exactly?" I stretched my legs out to lay flat on the mattress, crossing my ankles and resting the open booklet down in my lap. "Is it close to my apartment?"

He hummed low in thought. "Probably a bit too far if you're on foot. But maybe we could carpool there. And hey," he lifted his head to glance over at me, "I still got a free elective course or two that I need to take. I could enroll in the class with ya!"

I felt a grin tugging at one corner of my lips as I looked back down at the catalog, absently trailing my fingers down one of the circled paragraphs. "I think I'd like that…"

"Yeah?" he asked softly and for a second I thought I might have sensed him leaning in a little closer. But it must have just been in my head, for now he was pulling away to flop over onto his back on his side of the bed once again, making a small cough into his fist. "I, uh… talked to my friends too. The ones who run the local community theater. You're in luck! They're between shows at the moment and are actually gonna be holding auditions soon for their next one. Sometime this week, I think. It's a musical too!"

"Really?" I returned my gaze to him, closing the booklet but using a finger to hold the page. A sigh then escaped me as I worried my bottom lip between my teeth, "I don't know… I doubt I'm ready for anything like that."

Lea shook his head with a chuckle, "Ready for what? Just to talk to 'em? It's not like you actually hafta audition or anything. Nah, you can just head down, meet them, get some deets… maybe find out the where and the when so you can go and just watch other people tryout, ya know? Just get a feel for it, if you want."

He made a good point. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. I could go and just ask some questions, that's all. Surely, there would be no harm in that. "Maybe…"

"Well if you do decide you wanna drop in for a lil chat with them, their day job is over at Halloween Town in the mall. They should both be on the clock there around noon tomorrow. Ask for Jack or Sally and just tell 'em I sent ya," he jabbed a thumb into his chest with a big grin, "got it memorized?"

"Jack or Sally… okay," I nodded, responding with a small smile of my own. "I might do that. Thanks, Lea."

"Always happy to be of service! Now," he hopped up off the bed and made his way over to one of his shelves that was pure anarchy incarnate, "whaddya think? You up for a movie?"

The corners of my eyes crinkled and I set the catalog aside on the nightstand. "I could be. What are the options?"

He rubbed his chin, scrutinizing the mess crammed into the rack before pulling out a couple DVD cases, one from the top shelf and the other from somewhere in the middle. He held them up in either hand for me, "I'm thinking either Sixteen Candles or The Labyrinth. Thoughts?"

I looked between the two choices. Then my eyes scanned about the room and I frowned. "I'm thinking it's going to be hard to watch either of them without a TV."

"Without a-?" he blinked a couple times, looking over to his right. Then he sighed, "Hang on a sec," as he tossed the movies down onto the foot of the bed and made his way over to another towering pile of clothes against the wall directly across the room from his bed. "Watch and be amazed as I make a flat screen appear outta thin air in three… two…" he whipped the garments aside with a flourish, revealing the television beneath, "Ta-da!"

"Ah," I gave a polite clap and settled more comfortably down into his pillows, "I stand corrected. Though who needs movies when we have your amazing wizardry to keep us entertained?"

He scratched the back of his head, "Heh, it'd be a short magic show. 'Fraid I just got the one trick up my sleeve."

"Too bad." I paused, eyeing the DVD cases. "Make it a double feature?"

He snapped his fingers and snatched them both back up.

"Girl after my own heart. Pure genius."

Author's Note: Ah, yet another classic cliché for the books: our couple encounters one room, one bed for the night xD Also, fun fact: I started out this chapter stumped for what they should be talking about over dinner. Then I asked my bestie, who simply said: "gummi ships." And I just laughed it off at first, all "naw, that wouldn't make sense for this AU." But then it churned in my mind for a few minutes and I was like "wait… no… I think I can make this work…" And thus the Global Union for Multigalactic Mobility Investigation aka GUMMI Space Program aka NASA rip-off was born xD And further thus, Lea being an alien conspiracy-nut JUST for the sake of pissing of his space-loving half-bro was born xP Anyhoo! For those of you who haven't seen Frozen 2 yet (for shame, it's SO good, I demand you go out and watch it THIS INSTANT), Bruni the salamander is from that! He's a fire spirit in the movie with legit fire powers, so I got excited to give the fire boi a fire lizard for a pet! Also, maybe you can start to see the inklings of actual plot starting to sneak back into this story xD Slowly, we'll get back on course, but not before at least one more hijinks-y misadventure takes place… hehehe…

What does the next chapter hold in store for out couple? What new challenges could their budding fake relationship face? Is Elsa really going to pursue any sort of acting class or community theater? Will Lea ever follow his realtor aspirations he seemed so passionate about? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

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*****

About Late Nights

“Archer boy, get me a glass of O+,” Lily calls out from where she’s sitting on the couch, tilting her head back to look at Alec.

Alec rolls his eyes. “Get it yourself, Lily.”

Lily gasps dramatically, and quite theatrically turns her whole body to stare at the other vampire.  “I can’t believe you’re disobeying your sire like this. The utter disrespect. I am--” Something hits Alec and he straightens up, it’s very faint, but Lily is his sire so she still has a little control over him.

His bond with Lily isn’t like the usual, she never really had strong control over Alec’s mind, it has always been weak - and the only reasonable explanation Alec has for that is the fact that he used to have angel blood in his veins. Also, they’ve never had anything even remotely sexual, but that’s easily justified because of the latent homosexuality in him.

Lily, though, never really tries to use - or tried to use their bond. The bond’s thin and almost gone over the course of the last seven months but it’s still there, so sometimes, Alec feels compelled to do Lily’s chores.

“We ran out,” Alec tells her. “I’m going to get more with Magnus”

“Oh,” Lily smirks, “Blood stealing date night with Magnus, huh?”

“I-It’s,” Alec has to clear his throat, if he was still a shadowhunter, he was sure he would’ve been blushing. “It’s not a date.”

Lily waves a dismissive hand around. “Shoo, go out with your man, and sneak me an extra stash.”

Alec shakes his head, though a smile lingers on his face. She sometimes reminds him of his sister.

Correction, reminded him of his sister.

Alec still has to tell himself - that this is the only family that he has, the Vamp nest. His real family left him behind anyways.

The night’s dark as he walks out of Hotel Dumort. There are a few mundanes lurking around and Alec is hungry, but he has good control over himself and he’s not a monster. So he stuffs his hands in his jacket and walks towards the hospital, the nearest one from where his nest usually gets their blood from.

They don’t hunt on mundanes, not unless they are the lowest of humans - abusers, murderers and such. Alec’s nest has adapted to live on blood bags - collected from hospitals all over New York - or animal’s blood. But not mundanes. Never innocent mundanes. It’s the only one rule. If a vampire disobeys, they are thrown out and sent to be dealt with by the Clave themselves. Magnus doesn’t tolerate rogue vampires, or the ones that who ignore this one and only rule of his.

Alec takes the alleyway that’ll lead him directly to the back entrance of the hospital, where Magnus is probably waiting for him. Usually, he avoids the alley, but he’s trying to face his fears. If he’s going to be immortal - he’d rather be fearless. Well, i t’s not… fear, exactly, it’s more bad memories.

As he walks through the alley, eyes fixed on the ground, he can almost hear the yells, the fighting.

“The Clave is lying to you, shadowhunter, we don’t feed on mundanes.”

“Why would the Clave lie to me?”

“The Clave just wants us all dead, all the downworlders - vampires, warlocks, even seelies. They want to rule the shadow world.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alec doesn’t blame Lily for attacking him. He used to, but not now, not really. He was the one who had his blade pressed against their leader’s throat, Alec was so driven to follow the Clave’s orders that he was ready to kill Magnus.

Of course Lily had risked herself in front of all those shadowhunters to save Magnus. Magnus, who took her in when she was just a fledgling and gave her shelter for all these years. Magnus, who had done that for his whole nest and even more, for Alec.

Alec stops in his tracks. He can almost feel his limp body thudding to the ground, all those months ago. He can hear faint sounds of footsteps, his other teammates running away, leaving him there.

They never came back for Alec, not even Izzy or Jace. The Clave told them that Alec was rogue, unworthy. And they all, his own family, believed them.

And then there was Magnus, who took Alec in and helped him survive through his transition, even after Alec had almost killed him and all his children.

No matter how reluctant Alec was at first, no matter how many times he tried to escape, no matter how much Raphael hated him. The nest was there with him to help him through the different stages of his transition. Alec didn’t really realize the exact moment when they became his family.

“Hello, Alexander.”

“You didn’t follow me, again”

“Because I knew you’d come back…”

“Magnus,” A shuddered breath. “My family, they don’t trust me-- I- I don’t have a family anymore.”

“You do have a family, Alec, right here.”

He shuts his eyes, wraps his arms around his chest and uses his vamp speed to just run through the alley.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Alexander?” Magnus asks, looking at Alec with concerned eyes.

Alec runs his hand through his hair, rolling back his shoulders. “Yeah,” he says. “I just-- I took the alley.”

He sees Magnus’ eyes staring at him, before a small smile spreads on his face. “Okay, then,” the vamp leader says. “And how did that go?”

Alec just shrugs, and Magnus doesn’t push further, knowing that it’s hard for Alec to talk about it. He still isn’t over everything that has happened, and Magnus gets that.

“How long till Cat comes?” Alec asks, trying to change the topic.

That's how it usually goes, they wait for Cat, Magnus’ old warlock friend, at the secluded back door of the hospital and she brings them the blood bags.

“About that... There’s a small complication today,” Magnus says. “Catarina isn’t here.”

Alec frowns. “Okay?” So they’ll have to wait for another day? Everyone in the nest is quite thirsty, Alec included, and because they couldn’t get enough blood bags last month-- they don’t even have enough stash to last through tonight.

Magnus hums. “So... we’ll have to do a little preten--” suddenly, Magnus is pushing Alec back against a wall.

“Magnus--”

Magnus shushes Alec as he crowds him, hands gripping his waist, thigh between Alec’s legs and his face hovering above Alec’s, lips almost brushing. They’re so close that his eyelashes brush against Alec’s face, they’re almost sharing a breath. Alec’s lips are parted as Magnus looks into his eyes, pupils dilated.

Then, there’s a sound of the backdoor opening and two men, still in their scrubs, walk out of there.

Magnus presses closer to Alec when the men throw a glance in their direction. From their perspective, the vampires probably look like they’re just making out. Well, otherwise it would’ve been suspicious for them to be in this alley, at this hour of the night.

On the other hand, Alec isn’t able to take his eyes off Magnus, who’s looking at him with the same desire, the want, hand gripping Alec’s waist tighter and Alec’s own hands wandering around Magnus’ hips.

It doesn’t last long. The doctors, probably uncaring, just walk out of there, ignoring the two other men. But Magnus doesn’t step back, he just stares into Alec’s hazel eyes.

“As I was saying-- we’ll have to do a little pretending. ”

“R--” Alec clears his throat, feeling choked. “Right.”

Magnus brings one of his hands from Alec’s waist up to his shoulder, then trails his fingers down Alec’s arm in a way that makes Alec shiver. Before Magnus curls his digits around Alec’s wrist and raises his hand, Alec’s jacket sleeve sliding down and exposing his bare forearm.

“I’m going to bite you now.” Magnus tells him. “Just a tear.”

Alec’s pretty sure he has lost his ability to speak. He doesn’t understand why Magnus wants to do that. But he trusts Magnus.

Vampires biting each other is considered carnal, a little voice in the back of his head recites as he just gives Magnus a stuttered nod, and Magnus smirks. It feels as if Magnus is staring straight into his soul.

Alec almost gasps when he sees his fangs drop.

Magnus maintains eye contact as he brings Alec’s arm up to his lips. He gives his bare forearm a gentle kiss, which makes Alec’s breath come out in a short burst of air. Then, Magnus dips one of his fangs in, piercing Alec’s skin. Alec hisses when Magnus’ fang creates a tear in his skin, blood seeping out. Though it doesn’t hurt much, given that his tolerance of pain has increased a lot ever since he became a vampire. The pain is just enough to give the masochist in him a go.

“Fuck,” Alec bites his bottom lip, trying not to moan. And Magnus watches him with a smirk.

Then, Magnus is pulling back with a flourish, and Alec instantly misses the touch. He runs a hand through his perfect hair and messes them up, smudging his makeup a little along with it. Holding Alec’s arm out with his other hand, from which blood drips out.

Magnus gives Alec a look, reaches out to mess with Alec’s hair a little too. Before he raises Alec’s now bloody arm once more, to press a kiss against Alec’s wrist, right above the wound. Alec shivers.

“Come on, and agree with whatever I say.”

Inside the hospital, they create a whole fiasco of Alec and Magnus being on a date when someone with a knife tried to mug them, and ended up slicing Alec’s forearm when Alec tried to stop him. Resulting in them being led to the ER because Alec needs ‘urgent’ stitches. Apparently, Magnus is a great actor and there's another girl right about Alec’s age who’s supporting Magnus’ bullshit.

The girl pulls them in an empty room and locks the door behind them. She’s dark-skinned, has curly black hair and a scarf around her neck. She’s fairly pretty, and she looks at Magnus as if she knows him and is done with him.

“Madzie,” Magnus grins, leaving Alec’s arm and going to hug the girl.

“Magnus,” Madzie replies, shaking her head and returning Magnus’ hug. “Stitches? Seriously?”

“It was a good excuse--” Magnus says, pulling back. “Alexander, this is Madzie, Catarina’s daughter.”

Alec gives Madzie an awkward smile. “It’s just Alec.”

“Mhm,” Madzie reaches her hand out and gestures to Alec to give her his wounded arm. “So you’re the famous shadowhunter-turned-vampire.”

Alec glances at Magnus, who just nods, before giving her his arm. “I am.”

“I sure have heard a lot about you,” Madzie remarks.

Alec doesn't know what to say to that, he has been the talk of the New York shadow world for a while, and if anything, it’s awkward for him. So he stays silent as Madzie quietly heals his arm, letting it go a few minutes later.

“Alright, the blood bags are in there.” She eyes a fridge behind Magnus. “You can jump out from there--” she then nods towards an open window in the room.

Magnus hums, smiling at the girl. “Thanks, sweet pea.” he says as he reaches out and opens the fridge, stuffing the blood bags in a backpack kept right beside it.

Madzie rolls her eyes. “You need to stop calling me that.”

“Sure, sweet pea,” Magnus grins, before throwing the backpack over his shoulder, standing in front of the open window and turning to Alec. “You wanna go first, darling?”

“Darling, huh?” Madzie smirks, crossing her arms above her chest. “Got the shadowhunter whipped for you already?”

Magnus just waves a lazy hand around while Alec ducks his head, trying to hide his smile, as he walks over to the window.

They’re 8 feet above the ground, not much, really. Alec sits on the window sill and looks down at his dangling feet. Before he pushes forward and jumps, landing on his legs with a small thud his knees bending and taking all the pressure.

“Alexander, take this,” he hears Magnus call above him, before he throws the backpack down and Alec catches it easily.

Magnus turns back and blows a kiss at Madzie before he jumps down, landing gracefully, like a cat.

“Well,” Magnus says, brushing his palms. “That went well.”

“Yeah,” Alec replies, throwing the back pack above his shoulders.

“Hey,” Magnus says, walking in the room to find Alec arranging all the blood bags in the deep freezer.

“Hey,” Alec replies. “Do they need more?”

“No, no all of them have two bags each.”

Magnus and he just got back 30 minutes ago, the walk back to the hotel was pretty quiet. And now, while Magnus distributed the blood bags among the vamps, Alec decided to arrange the ones left in the freezer.

“Oh,” Alec says, reaching down to get two blood bags from the freezer. “Do you want one?”

Magnus nods, and Alec tosses the blood bag in his direction, closes the freezer shut and leaning against it to sip his own B+. His jacket is long discarded, sleeves of his shirt rolled up till his elbows. His hair’s still messed up, sticking out in all directions and his hazel eyes watching Magnus.

Magnus’ gaze catches Alec’s as he takes a sip out of his own blood bag. He absorbs the metallic taste, the euphoria that takes over his senses. Then, Alec looks at Magnus with parted lips, watches Magnus’ adam's apple move, his blood bag lowered.

Alec’s body silently calls for Magnus to be close to him. The tension from a few hours ago rising back up in the air.

There’s a drop of red on Alec’s lips, and Magnus' eyes fall on it as he takes a step forward. Alec shifts a little, standing up straight and itching closer to Magnus.

“You have a little something there--” Magnus leans in closer, darting his tongue out and licking away the blood with its tip.

Alec gasps when Magnus’ tongue touches his skin, his body shudders, their eyes still interlocked.

“Magnus--”

It’s just a whisper as Magnus pulls away, but something in Alec surges. They’re so close, and Alec can’t take it anymore. His mind is swimming in the euphoric taste of the blood and Magnus is right in front of him.

Alec wants this.

The blood bag drops down onto the floor with a small thud when Alec brings his hand up and grabs Magnus’ bicep, pulling him in and catching his lips with his own. He feels the slight shock in Magnus’ body, but then Magnus is reciprocating with the same desire.

Magnus’ trails his fingers up along Alec’s side and cups his neck, pulling him in closer, chests touching, bodies sliding against each other. Before Alec pushes Magnus back against a wall, trapping him there, almost gasping when he feels Magnus’ tongue touch his.

And just as Alec starts to nip at his jawline, Magnus clutches him and turns them around, so now Alec’s the one being trapped between him and the wall. He stares into the hazel eyes, they’re blown with lust. Alec’s slightly panting, looking at Magnus with that same-old puppy-like expression on his face.

“Magnus,” it comes out as a whine when Magnus slides his thigh between Alec’s. “Please.”

Magnus leans in, lips against Alec’s ear. “I adore you, Alexander.”

This time, Alec gasps, and Magnus feels the younger man growing hard against his thigh.

“I--” a gulp.

Magnus smirks against Alec’s cheekbone, before starting to nip at his jawline, earning more gasps from the vampire before him, his fists clenching Magnus’ shirt.

“I’ve wanted to do this,” Magnus says against the side of Alec’s neck, where the remnants of Alec’s deflect rune reside, just a faint-faded outline of it. “Since the moment I saw you,” A moan is drawn out from Alec’s mouth when Magnus bites, not too hard, and then laps his tongue along it, soothing it.

“Fuck, Magnus”

Alec grinds against Magnus’ thigh, asking for friction, Magnus’ hands sliding all over his body, Magnus’ mouth over his collarbone, driving him crazy.

Magnus drives him crazy.

He groans when Magnus mouths his clothed nipple and cups him through his pants. Alec arches his back off the wall, he can feel that Magnus is just as hard as him. He feels weak in his knees, his vamp hearing giving voice to even the smallest of the muffled noises that Magnus makes. Alec has almost forgotten about the fact that they’re still in the basement and anyone can walk in on them at any time-- which also contributes to the fact that Magnus is hurrying up his movements. They’ll have time to take it slow later.

The room is filled with the sounds of moans and groans, Alec’s sure the rest of the nest members just a floor above their heads can hear them too. Vamp hearing. But at this point, Alec doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way Magnus presses open mouthed kisses against his torso as he falls down on his knees.

Alec shuts his eyes, his head rolling back against the wall, feeling Magnus mouth press against his clothed cock, hands on the button of his pants, popping it open. Magnus mouths his already hard length and Alec is already so close.

“Look at me,” It’s a whisper, before Magnus opens Alec’s zipper with his teeth. And Alec does, almost feeling himself spilling over when his gaze interlocks with Magnus’. Alec watches that smirk on Magnus’ face before he is dipping his fingers down in the waistband of Alec’s boxers.

Alec maintains eye contact as Magnus moves, his mouth on him. The younger man is really trying to muffle the sounds that are ripped out of his throat but he can’t help it, looking at Magnus’ lips around him is very much a turn on.  Magnus’ beautiful brown eyes are blown and shining, his perfect hands stroking Alec and his soft lips at the head of Alec’s cock. Alec bites his bottom lip, almost feels his fangs drop out as Magnus takes him in. He looks so beautiful, like that.

“You’re gorgeous,” Alec breaths out even before he realizes it, it’s quickly followed by a moan when Magnus smiles around him and hums in reply, the vibrations doing things for Alec. “God, Magnus”

Magnus takes one of Alec’s hands in his and leads it to his hair. Alec lets him, and cards his fingers through Magnus’ smooth locks, helplessly tugging at them and trying not to shut his eyes. He wants to see Magnus. He wants to savour this moment.

He comes with a shout when he hits the back of Magnus’ throat, eyelids falling shut, head rolling back and his body going limp against the wall. Magnus swallows all of him, and Alec can feel his eyes on him, making shivers run down his body. He’s sure he’d fall down if it wasn’t for the wall and Magnus, who rises back up on his feet and is nuzzling his head against Alec’s neck, arms holding him.

“Hey,” Magnus whispers in his ear, lightly kissing his cheek.

“Hi,” Alec replies, turning his face to meet Magnus’ lips, again. He can faintly taste himself on the other man.

Magnus brings his hands up and cups Alec’s face when they break apart. His eyes travel all over Alec’s face, as if he’s seeing a piece of Renaissance art and is trying to take it in.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, a reply to what Alec said earlier, and Alec melts at that, a dopey smile taking over his face as he trails his arms around Magnus’ waist and pulls him closer. Magnus rubs his nose against Alec’s, then chuckles when Alec scrunches up his face.

“I was hoping… that after this, we can, you know, have drinks sometime…” Alec lets out, wishing that this isn’t going to be just a one time thing.

Magnus smiles, tilting his head. “Are you asking me out on a date, Alexander?”

“I’m trying to.” Alec replies, biting the inside of his cheek

Magnus chuckles again. “I would love that.”

“The way Magnus has the most spacious and the most sound-proofed bedroom in this place and yet you both decided to get off here,” Agron walks into the room, and directly to the deep freezer, not even looking at Magnus or Alec.

Alec startles, almost flinching away from Magnus and immediately tucking himself back in his pants, though Agron can’t see anything because of Magnus blocking the view.

“Didn’t you have 2 drinks already, Ron?” Magnus asks, turning his head to look at the other guy. But Agron just rolls his eyes. He looks like he’s 18 but he’s actually 2 centuries old, he’s one of the oldest in the nest.

“Get a room.” He says instead, taking out a bag and quietly walking out of there, not interested in a conversation.

“Do you think all of them heard us?” Alec asks, genuinely embarrassed.

“They probably did,” Magnus laughs and Alec slaps his arm. “Well, I think we should listen to Agron, shouldn’t we?”

Alec sighs, dropping his head on Magnus’ shoulder. “We probably should.”

They retreat to Magnus’ bedroom pretty quickly, Alec avoiding all the gazes on him and especially Lily’s exaggerated wink. The sun’s at the brink of rising when Alec finds himself in Magnus’ arms, on Magnus’ bed, clothless. It’s peaceful, warm, being in Magnus’ embrace.

And for the first time in months, Alec truly feels at home.

“Magnus?”

Magnus hums, face buried in Alec’s hair. “Yes?”

“I adore you, too”

[theoeclipse]

Baby’s First Words

Hi everyone! This is my submission for the 2020 She-Ra Fluff Bang! It’s a little fluffy story of Catra being a good mum, Finn saying their first words, Catra being an emotional good mum, and later on Adora also being an emotional good mum.

Really I just wanted cute fluffy parental Catradora raising their baby together.

Please check out @jujufire ‘s art they did for this fic, it’s too adorable!!

You can also read it on AO3 if you prefer.

~~~~~

Catra let out a loud gasp, her eyes wide with horror as she held a hand to her chest, gripping frantically at her shirt while stumbling forward several steps before collapsing to her knees.

“Argh! No! The mighty mountain troll got me! I've been hit, argghhh!” She continued to claw at her chest dramatically, flailing her arms outwards and flipping her ponytail back. “If only there was someone who could save me, and take down the monster that's been eating all of the villagers!”

A high pitched giggle resonated from her left and she snapped her eyes to look at the little bundle of fur sitting on a plus pillow and watching her with sparkling eyes the shade of the bluest sky.

Inhaling sharply she slapped her hands to her cheeks, her lips trembling as her eyes filled with wonder. “Could it be? The Mighty Finn of legends?? Mythological warrior knight who once fought off the savage Horde all by themselves with only a stick and their loyal steed?!”

Finn giggled again as Catra scooted quickly over to them, scooping the little child up in her arms and lifting them up into the air triumphantly.

“Yes! It is I, the mighty Finn! Fear not Lady Catra for I will save you and slay this foul beast!” Catra did her best to put on a goofy and heroic voice, pretending it was Finn talking before bounding forwards and letting loose a cacophony of fake fighting sounds.

Holding Finn's little arms she acted out an entire scene of punches and wild swings, even a few roundhouse kicks, before finally shouting triumphantly in her best fake Finn voice.

“Ahah! The monster is slain and your village is now safe, Lady Catra!”

Clearing her voice, she placed the exuberantly laughing baby down on the ground before clasping both her hands together and looking ever much like a starstruck Princess.

“Mighty Finn! Thank you so much, you've saved our town and our people, we will be forever in your debt!”

Little Finn was now clapping their tiny little hands against their thighs, their high pitched giggles only making Catra break out into a smile that nobody could have wiped off her face if they'd tried. She couldn't help the musical laugh that escaped her as she scooted over and picked Finn up again, shucking them up so that they were sitting in the little nook just above her hip bone. 

Still smiling, she pressed several little pecks all across Finn's forehead, cheeks and nose. This only made the child coo with delight, letting loose a tiny little high pitched purr as they nestled closer to her chest. A matching purr started to resonate from her own chest as she carefully ran her fingers through Finn's slowly growing mane of golden blonde hair. Just like their mother's.

With a warm sigh escaping her lips, she allowed herself a few more moments of mother-child bonding and snuggling before getting up and making for the kitchen, still holding Finn snug against her waist.

“Now what do you say to a snack after such a hard fought battle, mighty Finn?” Catra teased, gently booping the kitten on their nose and receiving a squeal of delight in reply. She grinned, pressing another kiss to Finn’s forehead.

Their place wasn't the biggest of houses, but that was plenty fine by her. Living in the palace had never really been something she'd been interested in, so when Adora had agreed to have a place built just for them outside the palace grounds at Brightmoon she had been over the moon.

It was warm and cosy, with warm toned walls all throughout except for in Finn's nursery- sky-blue walls that Catra loved because they reminded her of the eyes of the two things most precious to her- her wife and their child. The beds were softer than the bunks they had in the Fright Zone but firmer than the ridiculous pillow beds the Brightmoon palace seemed so fond of.

Their kitchen was roomy enough to get around with polished wood benchtops and an island in the middle where her and Adora had spent many nights learning to cook together while drinking far too much wine.

She made her way to the fridge and pulled out one of the snack containers of pureed fruit and vegetables that Finn had become fond of lately, popping it into a machine that Entrapta had called a 'Micro Radio Frequency Particle Excitement Box' that after 30 seconds had warmed the food to just above lukewarm temperature.

“Ohh Finny, lookit what Mama's got for you!” Catra spoke with mild excitement, carrying both the child and the food over to their high chair at the dining table.

Finn squealed with excitement as she put the food down on their little table and carefully lowered them down into their chair.

“Baba! Abbub..” Finn started to babble as they often did around food, and toys, and their mother. Catra grinned to herself. She'd likely never get these two to shut up once Finn was capable of holding a conversation.

She retrieved a spoon from a kitchen drawer and quickly returned, pulling up a chair beside Finn's high chair and carefully beginning to scoop a spoonful of orange coloured puree up. Watching her child's face light up in excitement she was overwhelmed with pure happiness as their mouth opened expectantly.

“Look Finny, here comes the flying horse!” She proceeded to make whooshing and zooming noises, flying the spoon around in criss-crossing directions before bee-lining for Finn's mouth. The kid hummed happily as they chowed down on their snack, bright blue eyes looking up at her with awe and joy. So much so that it almost made her chest ache.

“That good Finn?” She asked, plopping another mouthful  in and laughing softly as they clapped their hands together. They definitely got the food excitement from their mother too.

Looking up at the clock on the wall, Catra sighed. It was still only the early afternoon, and Adora likely wouldn’t be home until after it got dark. While Catra had gotten a lot better these days at spending time apart from her wife, there was still always a part of her that deeply yearned and ached whenever they had to be away from each other, even if it was only for a few hours. And of course she had their child to look after, their beautiful little blonde haired, blue eyed kitten that a special place in her heart now beat solely for.

Speaking of said kitten, Finn had finished up their snack and was now babbling happily, bits of puree smudged in a few spots around their mouth. Catra smiled softly and went to retrieve a cloth, dampening it first before returning to clean up Finn’s face. They wriggled a little restlessly, letting out a soft cry as the cloth was swiped over their mouth, chin and cheeks.

“Stop fussing, trust me you don’t want this stuff dried up in your fur,” she furrowed her brows, inspecting their face closely before dabbing a few more times. “I guarantee that will be more of struggle for both of us and I’ll probably end up having to get the razor out.”

Finn let out a soft noise of annoyance as the last of the food was removed, Catra putting the cloth to the side before letting out a long dad-noise grunt while picking up the now slightly heavier Finn and shifting them up to her chest. She began the after-meal ritual of gently clicking her tongue while bouncing the kitten and patting their back, swaying a little from side to side before making her way back to the living area where some of Finn’s toys were strewn about.

On the way there she passed by a photograph of her and Adora only a few months after Finn had been born on a day trip to the Whispering Woods for a picnic. They were seated on a blanket, Catra’s arm wrapped around Adora’s shoulders as they both looked down at their baby who was swaddled and held securely in Adora’s arms.

A smile crept onto Catra’s face, her hand still patting away at Finn’s back. Reaching out she let the rough of her thumb rest against the glass protecting Adora’s radiant face, as though hoping that somehow her wife would feel the gesture of affection through a photograph and from miles away. She knew it was important for Adora to attend to her Princess duties- to her She-Ra duties- but it didn’t make her miss her while she was away any less.

Still, maybe when Finn was older or they could convince Glimmer and Bow to babysit then she could attend a few of these political and beneficial-for-the-people outings.

It was as she was pondering the future and missing her other half that Finn finally let loose a series of small burps, followed by a little coo as though they were happy with their achievement. Catra chuckled.

“Good job little one, almost gave Adora a run for her money.”

Giving the photo one last glance, she continued on to the living room. She set Finn down on their soft cotton playmat, covered with colourful patterns and embossed animals. There was a criss-crossed arch over the top of the playmat that had a few stars and moons dangling from it- one of them even had a pull cord that made it start playing a soft lullaby tune that always seemed to calm down Finn when they were having a tantrum or wouldn’t settle for a nap.

She retrieved a few plush toys from where they lay strewn about and handed a large pink teddy to Finn, setting down the others nearby in case they decided they were in the mood for something else. Catra reached for her video-pad lying nearby on the couch and settled herself in to unwind and find something to watch.

“Alright Finn, Mama’s gonna find us something fun to watch until dinner time. Sound good?”

She peered over at her kitten, smiling when she saw vibrant sky-blue eyes peering back up at her, one little hand raising up and flailing in her direction. Reaching out she took the hand, leaning all the way down and peppering a few kisses to the furry back of it. “Mama’s here baby.”

“Amma… ahh..” Finn started to babble, Catra looking up with a crinkle in her brow, fondness welling in her chest. The little kitten seemed to have a personal dilemma, their little face squinting in concentration. “Ahm… Mama!”

Catra froze. Oh no. Oh no no. Oh, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. This… Adora was supposed to be here, they should have been together, Finn should have been speaking their first words for them both and now-

Oh, but Finn was looking up at her so, so adoringly. Those big eyes so full of light and joy and everything that was right and good with the world. And it was her child. Just as much as it was Adora’s. Finn was a part of both of them. And now here she was, sitting there staring like a stunned mullet as she realised that this was real, and this was good, and this was happening to her. She had a child with the woman who’d she’d loved since she had been a child herself, the most perfect and amazing woman in the world. 

Catra was a mother. A proud mother. A soft mother, and she hoped- a good mother. She tried every single day when she woke up and kissed Adora on the cheek and then kissed Finn on the forehead to be the very best mother. The mother that she and Adora never had.

There was a sharp burning sensation prickling at her eyes and she was vaguely aware of a tickling feeling as tears had started to carve a path down her cheekbones. Finn was still staring at her with absolute adoration, and she took a deep but shaky breath before scooping the child up in her arms and holding them close to her chest.

Finn let out a musical giggle, patting at her arms. “Mama!”

Letting out a soft laugh, Catra snuggled them tighter. She inhaled the smell of their blonde mane, her breath tickling their little ears and making them twitch. There was something so comforting about that ‘new-baby’ smell, even though Finn technically wasn’t that young anymore. She even found herself purring with pure joy, letting a few more tears fall from her eyes and hoping they didn’t get moisture all over Finn’s jumpsuit.

“I love you so much little bub.” Her voice came out just above a whisper, giving Finn one last squeeze before resigning herself to put them down in her lap before they started to get irritable with their Mum cramping their style.

Placing them in her lap, she grabbed the video-pad once more and flicked through a few things before finally deciding on a cute cartoon about horses and penguins for them to watch together. This seemed to please Finn, who let out a small whine of excitement while trying to reach out and ‘pat’ the horsey on the screen.

Catra just chuckled and ensured she was holding it far enough away that they couldn’t reach.

Eventually it started to get dark. Catra made the rounds about the house, tidying up Finn’s toys and making sure the dishes were clean in the kitchen. She warmed up some dinner for herself after feeding Finn and then putting them down in their crib for the night. She’d just finished putting away some laundry in their bedroom when she heard a soft rattle and the creak of the front door cautiously opening.

Her nose twitched and a smile crept onto her face as she caught a whiff of Adora’s scent- light and musky, with tones of vanilla and amber and a little bit of sandalwood. Making her way from the bedroom she opted for the less subtle approach, heading straight for her wife as she was shutting the front door and wrapping her up in a crushing hug.

“Mm! Catra, hey!” Adora greeted her warmly, easily melting into the embrace and wrapping her arms around her slender waist. 

Catra buried her face in Adora’s neck, a few stray strands of blonde hair tickling her nose but she didn’t care. “I mimthed myo.”

Adora chuckled, running her hands down Catra’s side and tilting her head just so. “Sorry what was that? Can you repeat it I think I’m losing my hearing.”

Grunting softly Catra pulled away, still smiling as she met her wife’s eyes. “I said-” she punctuated it with a soft kiss. “I missed you.” Another kiss. “You big dummy.”

“I missed you too, babe.” Adora replied, more than happy to return the kiss, wearing her own matching dorky smile.

A few seconds later Catra returned to their original position, burying her head again and holding onto Adora as though her life depended on it. While more than happy to return the embrace, Adora smoothed her hands along Catra’s back in a calming motion for a few moments before speaking.

“Everything okay?”

Catra went still, letting out a long breath before slowly easing herself back from Adora; just a little bit.

“Yeah I’m fine it’s just that-” Catra paused, looking away as colour made its way to her cheeks and she felt a lump starting to form in her throat. “Finn…. said their first word today.”

She bit her lip as she gained the courage to look back, hoping that Adora wouldn’t be sad or disappointed that she wasn’t there, but all she found was glowing blue eyes and a radiant grin that could have threatened to crack Adora’s giant head in half if she wasn’t careful.

“Really??”

Laughing softly Catra took Adora’s hands, grasping onto them like a lifeline and running her thumbs over her knuckles. “Yeah. You’re… not upset you weren’t there?”

Adora’s eyes flitted between her two different coloured ones, eyebrows furrowing in confusion before she let out a dry laugh. “Catra, why would I be upset?”

“I don’t know! I just thought- Ugh, I don’t know I just wished you’d been there and I guess I just felt bad that you didn’t get to hear it with me.”

She’d started to avert her gaze, her cheeks getting warmer as she rambled but she found two strong hands cupping her head and bringing her back to look up at her wife. Adora was smiling at her, her eyes soft and loving as they always were and it made her heart burst with joy. Damnit, those tears were probably going to make a reappearance.

“Catra I love you, and I love Finn. We’re parents together, and I’m going to get to be there for so many of Finn’s other firsts. I’m just glad you got to be there for it even though I couldn’t be.”

A tear slid down her cheek but Adora’s thumb reached up and swiped it away. Sniffling to herself, she rolled her eyes and pulled her big dumb wife in again for another hug. “You’re such a sap.”

Adora laughed, a lilting and musical sound that made Catra’s heart beat a step quicker than it had been. “Oh yeah, pfftt totally.” They hugged for a few moments before Adora interrupted it again. “So, what did Finn say?”

Oh, yeah. That’s right.

Catra looked up, still very much enveloped in Adora’s arms but just far enough away that she could meet her gaze.

“Mama. Finn called me Mama.”

Now Adora looked like she was going to cry, her eyes bright and wobbling with unshed tears as she held her gaze. “Please don’t cry. You’re going to make me cry again!”

“But, you’re Finn’s Mama! And they called you Mama! That’s just… just so…” Adora’s lip did that little thing it did right before she started crying from happiness, that little quiver that every time was equal parts adorable and heart-crushing. Catra felt her tears coming yet again.

Adora sniffed as tears of happiness started to roll down her cheeks. Catra whined softly, unable to stop herself as her own tears came again. She hid her face in the collar of Adora’s grey jacket, unabashedly wiping her face there and letting the fabric absorb them.

“Catra I’m so glad we’re parents together.”

Catra nodded, wiping more tears away. “I know, we’re the best Mums in all of Etheria.”

“More like in the whole Universe.”

They both laughed then, a warm, rich sound that they shared together as they rocked back and forth in each other's arms. “You’re such a dork.”

Adora laughed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Yeah I know.” She paused, humming softly. “Catra?”

“Hmm?” Catra was purring, her tears finally slowing as she rubbed her face into Adora’s neck. She couldn’t help it, she just smelled so damn good and it was always comforting to hide her face there.

“I’m hungry.”

There was a pause before Catra let out a chuckle, placing a kiss at Adora’s jawline before pulling away. She took her by the hand, tugging her in the direction of the kitchen.

“Come on hot stuff, I’ll heat up dinner for you.”

That night when Finn woke up fussing for a snack, they got up together, huddled close just the three of them as Adora fed them. She was about to finish putting the last spoonful of pureed peas and potatoes in their mouth as little Finn looked up at her, smiling brightly and giggling playfully.

Reaching up the kitten patted Adora on the cheek, cooing softly.

“Mumum!”

If Catra had thought that her ugly, emotional crying earlier had been absolutely terrible and embarrassing then she truly no longer had anything to fear. It seemed Adora’s ugly, emotional crying won out in terms of dramatic points. 

That night she may have spent a good two hours just cuddling with both her wife and child until Adora had eventually calmed down enough to put Finn back to bed in their crib. Adora had snuggled up to her and rambled to her until she was high from lack of sleep in the early hours of the morning, talking about all her greatest fears about being a good parent- being a good mother- all of the fears instilled in her from their childhood with Shadow Weaver.

All the same fears Catra had.

But now she saw those same fears reflected in Adora; Adora the wonderful, the strong, the brave, the kind, the most amazing woman and mother that Catra had ever known. Well, she realised that maybe together they really would be the best parents that Finn could have.

As Adora began to snore from where she lay sprawled against Catra's chest, she wondered to herself, fingers gently playing through golden locks of hair.

“I think I wanna have more kids.”

Her wife snored. Catra smiled.

She would tell her when she was awake. Eventually.

~

[lordbhreanna]

I would love to see what happens on the train between Jill and Nikolai. He seems glad she choose to leave Carlos behind. Almost proud. I guess he interprets Jill's actions as finally putting her personal safery in front of others'. Nikolai's like an evil mentor figure to her... So, yeah, this is my prompt for you!

under her skin | oneshot | jill/nicholai, re3make spoilers, missing scene, canon compliant

(on ao3)

—

As the subway car is swallowed by the tunnel and they leave Redstone Street Station behind, an unsettling feeling sits at the pit of her stomach. As if she’s making a mistake. As if she’s abandoning her duty. As if something terrible is about to happen, but can’t put a finger on what it is. It’s like a knot in her throat, hindering her breathing. She shifts her weight, clenches her fist in and out and keeps staring idly out of the window. The reflection on the glass glares back—weary expression, cheeks streaked with blood smudges, skin caked in layers of sweat and dirt and scrapes. 

She catches a glimpse of Nicholai from the corner of her eye. He hasn’t moved an inch, his head hanging absently between his shoulders as the sway of the train gently rocks their bodies. All of a sudden, he looks up and their eyes meet on the glass.

A smirk stretches out on his face.

“Already having second thoughts?” 

It comes out like a snake’s hiss.

There is something about this man that makes her skin crawl. It’s not because he works for Umbrella—Carlos and Mikhail do too. Her gut tells her Carlos is a good man working for the wrong people, while Mikhail seems honest about wanting to help the city. 

Nicholai is an entirely different matter. A puzzle piece that doesn’t fit. He reeks of trouble, and danger. His demeanor tells Jill he’s not just ruthless; something more sinister lies behind. And Jill already has had her own taste of betrayal. Despite her doubts, it’s not his affiliations what makes her writhe—no, what bothers her is the way his words have managed to get under her skin. It’s like they have clawed at an injury she has kept hidden. 

Arms folded together, she faces him, staring down from her stance.

“Cat got your tongue now?” he adds, after her silent reply. He lowers his leg from the seat and stands up. He goes up to her, reducing the distance between them with a few steps. “Guilt doesn’t suit a soldier.”

Jill tilts her chin up, scowling back with contempt. She refuses to back down, let herself be cornered.

“I don’t feel guilty.”

He takes one more step, grabs the metal bar above them. A chuckle draws out of his lungs; an unusual sparkle shines in his eyes. Jill needs to raise his head up a bit to face him, both holding each other’s stare. Her lips are pressed together, though her jaw tenses as she attempts to remain unfazed under his scrutiny. He’s too close, bulking and massive against her slender frame. She doesn’t let it intimidate her.

“Ah, but you do. Your pity will get you killed sooner than the creature.” Her lip trembles, her brow furrows. “Stroke a nerve, didn’t I?” he says with a hint of arrogance.

Jill needs to bite her cheek, because he has stroked all her nerves—not just one. His words come back and stab at her with violence. 

She can’t pull the trigger. She could barely kill herself in dreams, when the mirror revealed a corrupted monster whose torn apart flesh dripped down her limbs, the net of swollen veins under her skin palpitating as life wriggled out of her and all she could feel was the itch at the back of her mouth and the hunger.

Can’t pull the trigger when it counts.

She refused to abandon Brad. Traces of the mercenary's blood he had spilled are still smeared all over her face. When she shuts her eyes close, dead people are all she sees—and, when she opens them, undead. She knows better than anyone else what this sickness does. Even so, she won’t shoot. Can’t shoot.

Nicholai is right and she hates that he’s the one to have seen through her. That he has somehow probed into her mind and pluck out what she’s been hiding for months, even from herself.

Her eyes narrow, his still piercing her.

“I’m the one who has already survived this hell, so you might want to shut up,” she reminds him, in the end, with a dismissive huff.

She can still pretend.

“Ah, yes. Arklay, right? And did you survive on your own back then?” he inquires with a bite. Jill wants to throw him a retort, until she remembers Joseph’s body being ripped to pieces in front of her, how she could only react once Chris pulled her out of her shock, all the times Barry was there to save her neck. Jill swallows thickly, anger and fear soaking through her face. Nicholai quickly understands and snorts. “That’s what I thought. You S.T.A.R.S. were all trying to save each other and most died for it. Should’ve learned from that.”

Jill blinks, then her nose crinkles as rage takes over her. She stands closer to him and growls, baring her teeth like an animal ready to tear their prey apart. Her voice echoes loudly on the car, not caring Mikhail or anyone else can hear them.

“Go fuck yourself. The only reason you’re leaving town is because I fucking fixed this train.”

Surprisingly, her outburst pries a husky laugh out of him.

“Look at that. She can bite. Good,” he praises, in what she assumes is mockery, leaning towards her. “You could be so much more if you got rid of your bleeding heart, Miss Valentine.” She notices it, then, how for a brief passing moment his stare lingers on her lips before locking once more on her own eyes. It makes her gulp and want to step back, but she doesn’t. “What a sight it must be,” he whispers.

Jill doesn’t have time to answer before he walks away and vanishes to the next car, approaching Mikhail.

The knot in her throat only tightens.

[goodlucktai]

the wrong end of a very long tunnel

king falls am word count: 2106 poetry borrowed from straw house, straw dog by richard siken

read on ao3

x

and you wanted an adventure, so i said have an adventure

The car smells like Jack. He always forgot body spray on his mad rush out the door in the morning so he took to keeping a can in the glovebox. Sammy sits in the driver’s seat with a death grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles standing out like strings of pearls. In the passenger seat is the packed bag he found by the front door months ago.

It was months ago. It took that long to negotiate a way out of their contract at the station. And maybe Sammy was hoping for a miracle, hoping for a late-night phone call or the sound of a key in the lock. If he waited a little longer, dragged his feet, Jack would make his own way home.

But Sammy is sitting in a car that smells like Jack, with a bag in the passenger seat where his boyfriend should be, and his phone in the cup holder with the GPS waiting on his first move.

It’s a hard move to make. Sammy is a coward. He wants to go back inside. Back into their house, even though the mail is on hold and the gas and water has been shut off. Back into the life he and Jack built with each other, for each other.

But this is the only way back. Leaving now is the only way to go back home.

Jack, Sammy thinks.

He presses the clutch and shifts into first gear. He doesn’t slow down until the fuel gauge is on empty, seven hundred miles away. Then he pulls into the first gas station off the interstate and has a quiet panic attack.

It’s only for his benefit that it’s quiet, really. To keep some semblance of control. He could have made a scene if he wanted to. It’s one o’clock in the morning in the Middle of Nowhere, Northern Oregon, and Sammy is alone. He could fall to the ground and scream and be long gone before some unfortunate morning employee came in and checked the CCTV.

Jack, he thinks. He doesn't scream. He gets out to pump gas.

i don’t really blame you for being dead but you can’t have your sweater back

His apartment isn't quite ready for him. Real estate market isn't exactly booming in King Falls, but the landlady wants a chance to clean the carpets. The last tenant had cats. So Sammy has a handy excuse to stop in at the only motel for a hundred miles, to smile as he introduces himself as the new radio personality, make small talk, ask about the town. It's very scenic, the drive up was beautiful. You must get a lot of tourists when the weather's nice. Have you seen any new faces around here lately? Anyone new come through?

No, the grizzled receptionist said, just you.

The motel room smells like stale cigarette smoke and mold. The walls are an ugly puce with a wainscot that might once have been white. The comforter on the bed is stiff and over-starched. Sammy sits down on it with Jack's bag. He didn't bring any of his own things in from the car. He falls asleep with his nose pressed into the collar of one of Jack's shirts. It's the only way he can fall asleep.

It's easy enough to assimilate into town. Easy enough to adopt a persona that would assimilate into town. He could play the aggressive shock jock well enough for work, but he felt like an understudy in a role that wasn't really meant for him. Felt like being back in high school and taking a friend from homeroom to the prom because she was a girl who understood him and the pictures would be what their parents expected.

Sammy has always known how to be what people expected. He's always known how to play his cards close. There's too much at stake to get sloppy now.

Ben Arnold is a bright, lively person. King Falls is home to him. He knows the ins and outs of every weird and unsettling corner. It's on the tip of Sammy's tongue to ask— hey, where would the best place be to start looking for a missing person? Can you give me a reference number for the paranormal abductions section of the local library? The love of my life is gone and your creepy, hungry hometown is to blame, so tell me, Ben, what does it do with the people it eats? Where does it keep its food?

Sammy doesn't know how to have that conversation without sounding insane. Without going insane. So he doesn't have it.

He'll do this on his own.

Jack's shirts don't smell like Jack anymore, but there's still a can of body spray in the glovebox. Sammy only uses it sparingly, when he's afraid he's forgotten what it smells like.

On a rainy morning, when Sammy is giving Ben a lift home from the station because they drove in together the night before, he points Ben toward the glovebox for some napkins to dry his glasses with. After a moment of rooting around, Ben makes a suspect little "ooh" sound— his curiosity is a monster Sammy is doing his very best to tame— and comes out with the body spray.

"Don't," Sammy says. It comes out quick, but not sharp, and Ben's head tilt is confused, but not hurt. "Just don't want to waste it," Sammy adds with an easy smile, eyes on the road. He puts out a hand for it and Ben surrenders it without a fight. It's just body spray, it's not worth the conversation they're having about it. "It's hard to find."

"It says Bath & Body Works on the sticker," Ben laughs, "but whatever, weirdo."

And Sammy could say actually—

Do you have a minute?

Can I tell you something?

But instead he drives them down the mountain, arguing about breakfast, taking care on the turns. Ben's glasses are smudged and his smile is lopsided and bright. Sammy has never been able to protect anyone but himself, but he drives differently when Ben is in the car.

you are a fever i am learning to live with, and everything is happening at the wrong end of a very long tunnel

It doesn't feel right to not want to be at his apartment, pouring over the complicated notes Jack left behind that Sammy doesn't know how to read, smoothing out a wrinkled map with half a route traced in blue pen and pretending like this time he'll see something there he didn't notice before, this time he'll figure it out.

But the longer Sammy spends here, the closer he comes to admitting what a part of him knew all along.

He isn't getting Jack back. He isn't going home again. Home got taken away, home is gone.

"Havin' a rough night, are we, bud?" Ron asks. Sammy doesn't know where he came from.

He's laying on his back across the hood of his car, a bottle of liquor clutched in hand. It's a clear night, and there's hardly any light pollution out on the edge of town. Maybe that's why Sammy drove out here. Maybe he just wanted to look up and see something beautiful in this godforsaken place. It's half past one in the morning, and by now Sammy would be deep in Sweetzer Forest, doing his usual pointless run around before booking it up to the station for the show, always a few minutes late.

But at midnight on the dot, his phone helpfully reminded him of Jack's birthday tomorrow. He checked the notification at a red light. Then he pulled into the parking lot on his immediate right and got out of the car, because he didn't trust himself to drive at that point. The only 24 hour convenience store was a few blocks away. He bought a half gallon of whatever was nearest the door.

"I'm fine," Sammy says. He's pretty sure he says it. It's so practiced by now that he can't imagine he would have said anything else.

A calloused hand works the bottle out of Sammy's fist. Ron leans his hip against the side of the car and takes a swallow. The first drink had made Sammy cough, but Ron's face doesn't change.

"Shelled out for the good stuff tonight, I see. Special occasion?"

"Yes," Sammy says firmly.

Of course it's special. Jack's birthday is always special. They go out to dinner and they get extraordinarily drunk and they stumble home together and climb into bed. Jack is warm and solid, and he lays an arm across Sammy's waist in a way that makes Sammy feel— held. Jack makes him feel held. 

And Sammy isn't the type of person who could make someone feel like that about him, but he tries. He makes breakfast, he remembers how Jack takes his coffee and how he likes his eggs, and hopes it at least comes close.

"I forgot what day it was," Sammy goes on, and then he starts crying.

He'll blame the drinks later. He'll say he just can't hold his alcohol. It'll be sort of a running joke after this. Sammy never lives it down.

But for now, the driver's side door pops open, and the cabin light goes on, and the warning chime starts up because the keys are still in the ignition. Ron roots around for a minute and then returns to Sammy with his phone and a napkin from Paulie's.

Sammy takes the napkin, not sure what he's supposed to do with it. Ron asks for his PIN, and Sammy tells him, "It's today." Ron takes his wrist and directs the hand with the napkin in it up to his face.

Oh, Sammy thinks, and wipes his eyes while Ron makes a call.

Some interminable amount of time later, the car rocks a bit as Ben climbs up next to him on the hood. He scoots around until he and Sammy are shoulder-to-shoulder, marooned in a parking lot under a staggering array of stars.

"I'm playing a Best-Of compilation," Ben tells him. "I was working on it for your anniversary, but I'll come up with something even better by then." He turns his head, glasses going crooked and pressing into the bridge of his nose. Beneath a mop of dark curls, his eyes are familiar. People don't usually look at Sammy like that. He's not sure what it means. "Come on, dude. Come with me. Let's ditch your car for the night, okay?"

He winds up on Ben’s couch, bundled under the comforter from Ben's bed. Ben finds Legally Blonde on TV and stays up to watch it with him, and Sammy falls asleep in the first ten minutes.

He dreams of Jack, but for once it isn’t a nightmare. He doesn’t wake up gasping. He dreams of Jack’s face, of his hands, of his smile in the morning. He’s awake between one breath and the next, a slow rising up out of the dark.

Someone is singing ABBA in the kitchen, where there is the distinct smell of breakfast burning.

"What in the fresh hell are you doing in there?" Sammy croaks.

"Hey, look who's up! You look fresh as a daisy, Sammy." Ben's obnoxious good cheer seems louder than usual, pounding between Sammy's ears like a hammer, but that might just be the dehydration talking. "Come and eat.”

This isn’t why Sammy came to King Falls. This isn’t what he’s supposed to be doing. He's harboring secrets and taking advantage.

But there’s a plate of lopsided eggs and toast and slightly blackened bacon in front of Sammy, and a cup of coffee and the caramel vanilla creamer he’s taken a liking to that Ben keeps stocked in the station. The kitchen is warm, and comfortable, and bright with the sunlight coming through the window above the sink.

“Is it okay?” Ben asks, sitting across from him. “You always get your eggs over easy at Rose’s.”

Sammy pulls the hair out of his face with the hair-tie on his wrist. The end result makes Ben laugh, and Sammy picks up his fork.

“Of course it is, Ben. You’re the best.”

The first bite tastes like guilt. The second one tastes like way too much butter. The third one tastes like home.

you can sleep now, you said. you can sleep now. you said that. i had a dream where you said that

[redrobinfection]

(8) Haunted Woods

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober - Day 8 “Haunted Woods”

 Steph & Tim | Discussion of StephCass and JayTim | Gen | Silly | Phone Conversation | New for 2019! | Want to write with me? Find the prompt list here!

AN: No capes, Tim and Steph are about 14 here, Jason is 16, and Dick is 18 (he's a senior). Damian is 11. Tim’s parents are still alive and he’s often been invited to hang with the kids at Wayne Manor throughout his childhood. This is generally set in the late 90s-early 00s, because the 90s era of Robin, Spoiler, YJ, and solo Nightwing were the bessssssssst :)

~*~

Tim picked up his cordless phone, dialed a number, then threw himself across his bed and listened as the phone on the other end rings, feet swinging restlessly off the side. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling fan turning slowly above him.

"'Yellow?"

"Hey, Steph, it's me."

"Oh, hey, Tim," she replied, voice slightly garbled like she might have food in her mouth. "How'd that haunted house charity thing go?"

"It wasn't really like a house, it was more like a haunted trail-walk thing in the woods between my house and the Waynes', but, yeah, it, um, went okay, I guess."

"That's good. Raised lots of money for the shelter?"

"Yeah, I think it did. More people turned out than we expected."

"Nice! So did you get to spend time with those two Wayne guys you're crushing on? Penis-name guy and, uh, what's his name? Jay, right? That stand for Jacob?"

"Jeez, Steph, the older one is Dick, not 'the penis-name guy'--"

"I dunno, that's close enough."

"--and his brother is Jason."

"Ahh, okay, the ‘Jay’ is for Jason."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Ugh. So... No, I didn’t. Dick and Jay were working the event. They asked all their friends from school and the gymnastics club to come help them play the spooky characters on the trail."

"Oh, nice. What spooky thing were you?"

"I was too young to volunteer, so, instead, I, uh, actually ended up test-walking the trail with Damian."

"Ugh! The demon kid?!"

"He's not that bad."

"Did he try to stab you again?"

"….maybe. Not really. A mechanical pencil doesn't count."

Steph scoffed. "Like I said: spawn of the devil. I'm surprised they didn't want to use him as cast; he'd be a natural!"

"Steph, give him a break. He's only, like, ten and he had a messed up childhood, okay? He's getting better."

"Uh huh...but am I gonna find pencil lead lodged under your skin anywhere if I go looking?"

Tim grimaced and tried not to look at the dark smudge on his arm. "…He will get better. Just give him time."

"Okayyyyy, so moving on: how was it? Did you get scared? Pfft. I can't imagine the little demon baby did."

"No, Damian actually spooked a couple of times, though he tried to play it off as being 'horrified that the performances were so abysmal'; his words, not mine."

"Sounds about right. What about you, shy guy? You get spooked?"

"I mean, those woods are pretty eerie at night and it was definitely creepy having people jump out at us, but I wouldn't say any part of it scared me, per se."

"Mmmmm. So having your two major crushes jump out at you in sexy costumes didn't spook you even a little?"

Tim's face heated. "Well, uh, I mean… they weren't sexy costumes per se…"

"Okay, spill it, Timbo. What were they wearing? Did they try to scare you? What did you say to them?"

"Well, um, Dick was a werewolf and he, uh, I guess tried to jump scare us?"

"…"

Tim sighed and sat up on the bed. "He waited until we walked past, jumped out right behind us, and then growled in our faces when we turned around. He made Damian jump, at least. Except...then Damian jumped behind me and kind of pushed me into him, and Dick stepped on my foot then said, in the softest voice imaginable, 'oh, sorry', so, like...I wasn't really ‘scared’, I was just kind of, uhhh, flustered, I guess?"

Stephanie slapped what sounded like a table, or maybe her desk, with what had to have been her open palm. Repeatedly. "Ahahaha, oh my god, that is perfect!"

"Gee, thanks, Steph," he replied dryly.

"No, I mean, at least he talked to you right?"

"I mean if you can count getting stepped on and whispered at?"

"He got up close and personal with you!"

Tim sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, sure."

"Okay, okay, then what about Jason?" Steph asks excitedly. "What happened with him?"

If Tim's face had been hot before, now it was on fire. "Uhhh…"

"Oooooo, I sense a story here. Spill it!"

"Well, I mean, he wasn't really that scary. Damian just kind of just rolled his eyes at him and went on ahead, leaving me there."

Steph squealed. "Ooooo, so you got some alone time? So what was he? A ghost? A murderer in a hockey mask?"

"Um. Well. Jason was near the end of the trail, hanging around one of the creeping rose trellises in the Wayne gardens. They set up all these fake flickering candles and hung a ton of these big, long cobwebs from the trellis and then had Jason dress up as a Victorian zombie...or something? He didn't really try to jump out as us or anything. I think he was reading when we walked up? He seemed kinda bored, to be honest.

“And, uh, then my glasses kinda got caught in the cobwebs. Jason pretty much just stood there and watched me try to untangle, while they were still on my face, them for, like, thirty seconds, but it kept getting worse and worse until, finally, he walked up to me, very carefully removed my glasses, untangled them, handed them back and then I pretty much ran away in shame," he finishes lamely, squeezing his eyes closed at the memory.

"Whaaaaaaat?! Did you say anything? What did he say back?"

Tim squinted as he tried to remember something beyond the overwhelming embarrassment. "I think I thanked him, maybe? And then he grunted like a zombie and went back to reading. I felt like such a dork."

Steph laughed again. "Ahahahahahah,Tim, that is just too much. Honey, you felt like a dork because you are a dork. The most adorable dork that has ever lived to dork."

"Why did I call you again? I'm hanging up."

"Timmmmmy, nooooo. You're adorkable and that is what I love about you. If Dick and Jason have any sense, then they'll love it too. You just gotta put yourself out there and talk to them more often!"

"Whatever you say, ex-girlfriend."

Steph snapped her fingers, likely trying to point a finger at him through the phone. "Hey. I'm clearly the most qualified person to be saying this stuff; I know better than anyone how awesome you are."

Tim raised his eyebrows, unseen, but clearly heard in his tone as he replied, "And that’s why we broke up?"

Tim could hear Steph's responding eye roll in her voice. "We only broke up because it turned out I'm not bi like you. One of those 'It's not you, it's me' things, right?"

"Sure."

"Heeeey, don't get all down on yourself, okay? Here, this is what we'll do: Cass Wayne and I were planning to go see that new horror flick next Friday--"

"You hate horror movies. I hate horror movies. They freak us out. That was, like, the one thing we always agreed on."

"Shhhhh, all a part of the plan, Timothy," Steph soothed conspiratorily. "See, you'll ask Jason if he wants to come on a double date with us and Cass will totally push him into it, and then at the movie I'll pretend to be scared and grab onto Cass and you can pretend to be scared and grab Jason's hand!"

Tim barked a laugh. "Pretend? Try actual fear."

"Exactly! We'll actually be scared, so our acting will be totally believable!"

"Do you even hear yourself?"

"Come on, it'll be great. We're thinking we'll do an early show to beat the crowds and do a late dinner afterwards to shrug off the lingering creep factor. We were planning on going to that diner you like, the one with the double coffee milkshakes, remember? Whaddya say?"

Tim grimaced. "I dunno…"

"Just imagine: cuddling up to Jason Wayne in a dark theater, sharing a shake and fries afterwards. There are two straws, you accidentally mix them up…"

Tim made a sound of disgust at that horrible cliché of an image. "Okay, okay, stop, fine, I'll do it."

Steph cackled. "Yessssss, this is gonna be great." Abruptly her tone went deadly serious. "You should call Jason right now."

Tim froze. "Uhhhhh, right now?"

"Yes, before you chicken out. Actually, I'm gonna hang up and call Cass. We'll call you back in ten minutes and if you still haven't called Jason and asked by then--Cass will know--then I'm gonna make her make him call you."

"Steph, no…"

"Then call him!"

"Okay, okay, I'm hanging up."

"Yay! Okay, you've got five minutes and then I'm siccing Cass on you guys. Good luck!"

"Wait, you said ten! Steph? Steph?!"

A click and then the dial tone was all that could be heard. Tim flopped over onto his pillow and groaned.

"Well, great. Just… great."

[hcpefulmarshmallow]

💟

Smooch Time 

 Send 💟 for a kiss on a wound

There is a deep sigh as Nagito is met with the sight of shattered glass. It seems Gundham has wasted no time in making himself at home in his new living space. Every mirror, everything marginally reflective, is either covered up or broken beyond use. Stepping over the mess, Nagito moves to exactly where he expects to find Gundham at this time of morning. 

 ❝That’s gotta be hard to do without a mirror. Uhm, your door was unlocked, so I didn’t think you’d mind…❞ There’s a conversation they need to have, but Nagito finds himself trailing off, in order to avoid saying anything that might lead into it. It’s going to be a difficult one. And painful. And he’s not sure that he’ll like whatever Gundham has to say about it. Finding where they stand is going to be hard now more than ever, given what they’ve been through, what they’ve…done. And yet, as he watches the Breeder struggle to apply eyeliner without a visual guide, he can’t see the monster that used to torture him for fun, and he doesn’t feel like the cretin who enjoyed it. He just sees the love of his life making an inky, smudged mess on his face. 

 His words go unacknowledged, and Nagito finds himself increasingly concerned. There has clearly been an attempt to cover up his newest, most visible scarring with concealer, but without any way to see what he’s doing, he hasn’t exactly done a stellar job. With the shaking in his hand, Nagito begins to worry he’s going to hurt himself. 

 ❝Tanaka-kun, I don’t think you should…Y-you’re gonna…❞ Still no response. Nagito steps forward and attempts to wrestle the eyeliner from him, his voice becoming firmer and louder as the Breeder fights him on it. ❝Gundham, give it to me. Give–you can’t just shatter your mirrors and pile on makeup and pretend that’ll make it go away! It won’t! You’re stuck with that scar forever now!❞

 Silence. Deafening. Gundham finally looks at him, but he seems…betrayed somehow. This is not new information, but he doesn’t like to hear it. Nagito opens his mouth to apologise, but no sound comes out. He grabs a removal wipe instead, and attempts to clean up the mess on Gundham’s face a little. 

 ❝Hey–no, don’t pull away from me. Please.❞ His voice is gentle again, his touch even moreso. ❝I’m sorry for yelling at you, I just…it…it’s the guilt, I…all those terrible things I did, and right now, all I can think about is how much I miss you. Selfish, right?❞ His lower lip trembles as he swallows hard. The wipe is set down and his hand instead moves into Gundham’s hair, all the better to pull him closer. His lips brushing cautiously across those scratch marks, he can feel Gundham tremble and recoil from him. 

 It hasn’t been styled yet, so it’s not hard for him to brush his hair forward, over that scar of his. Nagito’s fingertips moving so delicately, as if he’s afraid his lover will break under any kind of pressure.❝I’m begging you, don’t shut me out right now. You’re the only good thing I have left. What am I supposed to do, if you won’t even let me see you?❞