#everyone else ignore this. he yelled at me from upstairs for posting. now he must suffer.

[rat-detector]

@m4x-3dw

I do not give in to your demands. I post when I please

[lozzypoz321]

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in so long!!! But I am quite surprised that my current 200 followers (wow) haven’t unfollowed by now but this is my 200 celebration fic even though I’m a bit late- also I’m sorry if this sucks I just haven’t written in ages! Please bare with me! Kindly proofread by @canadianhufflepuffavenger 💗

Warnings: angst, past break up

Your real dad

-

Steve tightened his grip around your draw-string bag that he had convinced you to part ways with, as you, him and your mother made your way into the tower. He was dreading the reunion with Bucky after not seeing the team for about 2 weeks. You were practically bouncing on your feet to see your real dad. While Steve was there watching you treat your dad like a hero but not even spare him a glance.

Your family relationship was complicated yet simple at the same time: you hated your mom but tolerated her, loved your dad with all your heart, hated your stepdad as much as he tried, treated Peter like your brother and Thor exactly like your uncle.

Why did you hate your stepdad so much?

Well, first of all, he pretended like he was your real dad and tried to do all of the things with you that you and Bucky did together. Second, he always stole all your moms attention and made you feel like you were alone (whether he meant it or not)

The elevator door dinged, indicating that the three of you had reached your floor where currently Bucky, Thor, Tony, Natasha and Sam were hanging out, waiting for your “family”. The others were in the kitchen, trying to get a sneak taste of the food that had been ordered.

“Dad!” You yelled and raced up to the super soldier, he broke out into a grin and picked you up off the ground to invade you into a bone-breakinghug. “Hiya doll face.”

You grinned back at him and got down from his arms briefly to run across the room to retrieve your drawstring back so you could show your dad your new spiderman action figure that had been bought by your cousin Peter.

“Look! Look!”

He smirked slightly at your excited demeanour as you held up the toy as high as you could while jumping up and down for him to see. Once he’d figured out who the character was, you had already gone running off to see what Wanda and Vision had baked in one of the many kitchens.

“Hey Buck” Steve acknowledged as friendly as he could, it wasn’t that the two ‘friends’ hated each other, but there was definitely some tension in the room as the two sat parallel. Tony cleared his throat and mentioned something about having a cough as he quickly left the room.

“I better see where he got off to” Natasha and your mother said at exactly the same time, not wanting to experience what they thought was about to go down.

“Hi Steve” the older soldier greeted back, not sure what the intentions of the conversation were exactly. In the tower, the history between both soldiers and your mother was known but not really spoke of- Bucky dated your mother for quite a while (almost four entire years), and got her pregnant with you, but- as everybody was sure to know- all good things must come to an end- and the two broke up on good terms. That was before Steve Rogers himself got involved at a certain billionaire’s party when they realized they were (and this is in your mother's words) “meant for each other.”

“I’m erm, here to speak to you about something.” As if the awkwardness present in the room was no longer enough before, by now it was almost too much. Thor and Sam took the most obvious hint and left the room in search of something else to occupy their time.

“Well, you’re free to speak-“ Bucky was interrupted by the loud sound of laughing from behind the wooden door and almost instantly after a hushing sound. The two men had completely different reactions to this, Steve was utmostly confused, both eyebrows scrunching together, while Bucky’s face held a small smile. He knew exactly who was trying to eavesdrop and it just proved how much Steve did not know his stepdaughter from the fact he didn’t immediately know. “(Y/N),” he called out, the humour evident in his voice, “Parker, we know you're out there.”

“Awww, Peter you gave our secret identities up!”

By now Steve had caught on to the two of you and laughed lightly, trying to cover up the fact that his only chance to ask Bucky his question alone, was interrupted.

The wooden door creaked open, revealing Peter, dressed up in his spiderman suit for dramatic effect and you with a bandana on, which you thought made you look like a ninja and you held your action figure tightly in your left hand.

“(Y/N), you know it’s rude to eavesdrop” Steve scolded you, trying to be firm. You ignored him and shrugged your shoulders before going to follow the scent of Chinese food.

“Doll,” your dad stopped you “don’t ignore people, you know not to do that” he stood up from his spot on the sofa and began to also make his way to the kitchen, you right beside him muttering a small “okay dad.”

Steve tried not to let his heart sink as his best friend walked away. He would just have to try and get Bucky alone at another point in the night. If he didn’t get an answer, then he would have no use for the small box that was sitting in his trouser pocket.

“Bonjour,” Clint greeted the two of you as you both arrived for food, the island set up with enough plastic plates for everyone (Tony couldn’t be bothered with hiring people to wash normal, expensive ones multiple times a day)

Your mother smiled at you from the other side of the kitchen, but she was immediately confused when you didn’t smile back. The reason you had not, is because you had a feeling you knew exactly what question your stepdad had for Bucky and did not at all like the sound of it.

“Fries?” Bruce offered, tilting the box of food towards you. You nodded gratefully and grabbed a handful. The conversations at the table were mixed; Thor ranting passionately about the food at his home planet, Tony mumbling something about not even being hungry anyway (you thought he was just being salty since he didn’t get his Shawarma), Bucky and Sam having a silent argument across the table, and Peter was busy singing Christmas songs in his best Santa Claus voice.

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, and in case you didn’t seeeee” Natasha rolled her eyes dramatically at the teenager making everyone laugh.

“Hey don’t get annoyed at me! Everyone loves Christmas!”

You used to love Christmas before your parents separated and you weren’t allowed to spend the holiday with your dad.

“I don’t like Christmas,” your dad shrugged half mindedly while taking a sip of his soda. Peter looked at him like he had two heads and exclaimed in shock, “that impossible!”

“It ain’t kid,” Bucky chuckled while your mother shifted in her seat uncomfortably, realizing the reasoning.

While you worked your way through the pile of noodles, Thor’s incessant ranting came to an end, and the teenager had seemingly run out of songs, the group of superheroes decided to hang out in the living room and watch a movie before you, Steve and your mother had to go home.

“Which one?” Nat asked the room while holding up two movies, the nightmare before Christmas and the corpse bride. Both Halloween movies, neither particularly scary.

“How could one have a nightmare on the day before Christmas? Surely that is against the rules of the Holiday Christmas, that is based on happiness?” Thor asked, earning a quizzical look from you. “Stop tryna act like Shakespeare big man” Tony laughed while grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it all into his mouth.

Steve ignored the billionaire, and while no one seemed to be paying attention he directed his attention to Bucky, swallowing nervously. “Hey Buck, can I speak to you for a sec outside?”

Confusion spread over the soldier’s face for a split second before complying and getting up from the couch with Steve as discreetly as possible as to not raise suspicion from the rest of the team and you.

“What’s up?” He asked once they’d reached the hallway outside, he didn’t know what was up with the younger man but he could easily tell that he’d been acting nervous around himself and your mom.

“Um, I have a question, you don’t have to say yes or no or anything-“

“Your ranting.”

He stopped and thought for a second, wondering how to put it. “I know it’s been complicated recently, and I know this might make it worse with all your history with (Y/M/N) and (Y/N) but I really do love both of them and since (Y/M/N)’s parents passed a while ago, there’s no one to really ask for their blessing so I guess I’m here to ask you, can I have your blessing to propose to (Y/M/N)?”

Bucky stood emotionless for a second, not knowing how to react. He wasn’t sure whether to be happy for Steve and support him or to be angry. He had both reasonable attributes for each option but was cut short when he heard the sound of a door banging against its hinges on the floor above.

Both of your dad’s eyebrows scrunched together, who was that? Everyone in the tower knew not to do it because Tony despised it, and everyone with a brain knew that when Tony got annoyed, bad things happened.

Then almost instantly after the door entering the living room revealing an awkward Loki “I’m sorry to interrupt this conversation but your daughter slash stepdaughter, just ran upstairs in tears so if you could quickly wrap this little moment up, it would be greatly appreciated”

Bucky’s heart stopped, why were you crying?

He and Steve completely forgot about their previous conversation and quickly headed upstairs, nearly running Peter over in the process coming from the toilet. But just as they reached the door where you normally stayed when you came for sleepovers, Bucky stopped and put a finger to his lips.

“I think I should go in.” Instead of arguing, and saying that it would be good ‘bonding time’ to get you to like him, Steve silently agreed and let your dad go in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he gently closed the door behind himself, instantly catching sight of you sat on the carpeted floor, furiously wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Hey, hey, don’t hurt yourself,” he took ahold of both of your wrists and set them down on your lap, “why’re you crying doll?”

Tears continued to stream unapologetically down your cheeks, you didn’t know how to tell him. That you had snuck out of the living room to see where the two had gone and then eavesdropped into their conversation, and once hearing your stepdad (who you did not like at all) was going to become a permanent part of your life, ran off crying.

“I don’t wanna talk about it” you shook your head, making him sigh. “Please tell me, I wanna know why. You trust me right (Y/N)?”

The simple nod was all he needed, yet his heart still ached. Seeing his only daughter in tears and didn’t trust him enough to tell him why? It was heartbreaking for him. “I don’t want him to marry mom,” you quietly admitted, “the only reason I’m still allowed to see you is because she thinks I still need a father figure, so now he’s gonna be here forever I won’t be- I won’t be able to see you anymore.”

He sighed deeply, trying to find a way to comfort you. “You will, I promise. I’ll always be apart of your life doll. No one can ever take you away from me because you're my daughter and I love you so so much, m’kay?”

You sniffled and wiped the final tears from your cheeks. “Okay.”

Before you could both get up and return downstairs to finish the movie, Bucky stopped you and lifted you up to whisper something to you.

Once he had finished you pulled back and nodded hesitantly, realizing that you should put your grudge behind you and face a fear.

Your dad and you returned outside, Steve waiting patiently while resting on the wall, gently smiling at you to make sure you were okay.

“Go on doll,” Bucky quietly urged, making you take a deep breath and just go for it.

“I give you my blessing to marry mom.” Steve’s heart skipped multiple beats as his brain tried to process what you had said. You’d finally accepted him into your life?

He broke out into a grin, trying to form words to thank you without seeming like this meant the absolute world to him. “Thank you (Y/N). I appreciate it so much.”

Bucky was proud of you for taking a leap and letting Steve into your life when you were scared. He realized at that moment that even if you did have a dad and a stepdad at the same time, he’d fulfilled his role already.

Taglist: @marvel-ous-hobbit @snarky--starky @rae-is-typing @stargazingfangirl18 @canadianhufflepuffavenger @herecomesthewriterwitch @every-marveler-ever @hera-the-writer @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @rooskaya-yelena @deephideoutmilkshake @kidney9-9 @js3639 @am3l1a-24 @bonkybarnes107 @ilovemarvel-andcats @sapphireplums @deannawallacee @keenmarvellover @garbage-potato @mollbt @spookybooisa

[doingthingsthewriteway]

I’ll Be Home for Christmas iii

Summary: It’s date night. 

A/N: cross posted from ao3

Taglist: @charmed-asylum​

Friday rolled along at a snail's pace. Y/N worried Lee would boast about their evening and news would spread like wildfire. However, much to her surprise, he kept his mouth shut (or everyone was too afraid to cross him and kept their knowledge private). The privacy helped her nerves, though she knew what would happen once the first person saw them together. She wondered what her friends would think or say when she wasn't around.

She wore a simple dress which concealed her figure in an effort to establish boundaries, though something told her he wouldn't abide by any. Her hair was down in loose curls and her lips were painted red. Y/N forgot to put on her pearls as her mother lectured her on the expected behavior of the evening.

Bodecker arrived at the end of his shift. Y/N thought, or rather hadn't considered the possibility of anything else, that he would arrive in uniform. Yet, he stood in their living room without any sign of his sheriff regalia.

"You look beautiful darlin'." ("That sheriff is a no good liar, Y/N. You listen to me!")

"Thank ya kindly, Sheriff."

"I'm off the clock." He took her by the hand, pulling him closer to his side. "I'll have her some safe when we're done."

"No later than-" her mother was cut off by Lee's sharp eyes. Her father waved them off, perhaps knowing that any trouble she might get into with the sheriff would be better than the trouble at home.

Lee opened the door to her side, leaning over and buckling her seatbelt for her. His hands brushing over breast. The scent of peppermint catching her by surprise. "Now," he settled into the drivers seat, "we're gonna go catch a movie, grab something to eat, and then have a nice long talk in private."

Y/N couldn't focus on the film. She knew from friends what boys would do during movies; consequentially, she sat on edge the entire time. Lee anticipated this, if anything it would work in his favor. He was all about surprise.

Dinner was a different affair. The diner was hopping with families dining together and teenagers trying their absolute best to make something happen. Gossip was sure to follow. Y/N and Lee couldn't be seen to distinctly in the dark of the movie house, the diner was different.

"Wanna share a milkshake?"

Y/N was tempted to shrug but remembered the stern look in his eyes when she did that before. She didn't like his bad side and definitely did not want to tempt it. "Up to you."

His tongue clicked, hands grasping hers. "C'mon darlin', I want you to make some decisions in this."

"This?"

"You had a nice education, surely you've caught on." Lee took one of her hands, bringing it up to his grizzly cheek. "I'm sweet on ya, hell I might be addicted."

"Sheriff, that's awfully kind of you but-" he squeezed her hand tightly as the waitress arrived at the table. Y/N half hoped his eyes would slowly graze over the waitress instead staring at her instead.

"What can I get y'all?" Shit, they were a y'all now.

"I'll take a burger and fries, a coke, and whatever the lady wants."

"A Diet Coke and some chili cheese fries and a strawberry milkshake."

"Two straws?" The waitress smacked her bubble gum as she spoke.

"Two straws."

It was hot, too hot in the diner or at least sitting across from Lee. His stupid smirk showing his amusement at the whole damn thing. She wondered what damage a fork to his hand would cause but that wasn't going to end well.

"Strawberry,huh?"

"The chocolate tastes chalky."

He laughed, another one of his stupid belly shaking laughs. "You're awfully cute."

"Lee, I really don't know think I want to do this."

He nodded, a pensive look on his face. His hand absentmindedly rubbing his tummy as he held her gaze. "Your ma tell you that? Your pa just let her fill your head like that?"

"Stop. This isn't about that."

"You like staying in that house? Like getting yelled at? Don't you want a place of your own?" She couldn't answer, not with the waitress returning with their order. "Now, be a good little girl and eat your dinner."

She hated how blindly she followed that order. How was a response like that going to help her case any? Nevertheless, she ate her dinner and sipped the milkshake ignoring how her stomach tightened at the way his eyes looked as the bored into her chest.

Lee paid and ushered her back to his cruiser. He licked his lips, his tongue thick and his lips red. "I reckon your ma's done told you about my reputation."

"Said you were into whorin' and I'm no better than any of your other girls."

Y/N dared at glimpse at him from the corner of her eye as she picked at the seatbelt. His knuckles were tightened in anger, jaw tense, tongue pushed into his cheek. "Your ma really don't hold back does she?"

Before Y/N couldn't answer, not that she really wanted to, he started the engine. A hand stretched over the seat to rest on her thigh. "Here's the deal, little lady." His fingers rubbed the fabric of her skirt between his fingers. "I can be a patient man. I'll treat you like a goddamn queen. People in this town like me, I'm up for reelection next year and a pretty life wife by my side would sure help me out."

"Wife?" Y/N smacked his hand away, whipping over to glare at him. "No, Lee Bodecker, I'm not some pathetic little thing you can seduce into being your wife after just one day. My house might not be great but I will never-" She was cut off by the sudden sensation of his hand on her jaw squeezing tightly.

"You don't want to test me. I'm going to take you home, we'll tell your folks we had a great time, and the next time I see you we're doing something about that attitude."

It took two days before Lee showed up. Two days of paranoia from what an attitude adjustment at his hands would mean. Two days of fending off her ma's questions and ignoring the way her pa couldn't seem to be able to talk to her like he used to. Home alone, she wasn't surprised this was when he would strike.

Y/N answered the knock at the door, only opening it enough for her to see him. "Morning."

He pushed his way inside, hands on his hips as he surveyed the house. "Why don't you fetch me a cup of coffee, maybe something sweet, and we'll chat."

Scurrying to fulfill his wishes, she found herself seated beside him on the couch, legs titled towards him. "What, um, what was it you wanted to talk about Lee?"

"You need to let me love ya like I want to. I ain't forced myself on have I? Hit ya? Screamed at ya?" No. No. And no. "I know I've let myself go a bit, ain't all lean like those boys you must've gone to school with but I can give ya a lot. So why won't you take it?"

The sincerity in his blue eyes was alarming. He was genuine in his affections, in his feelings. To him, marriage must have been a logical next step. How many of her friends were already hitched? Hell, Sue got married on Prom Night and Rosemary married a guy after a month. Knockemstiff didn't understand the world was changing as it never would.

"I've been thinking about running for mayor after next election cycle. Money won't be a problem. We'll get a big ol house and you can decorate it however you want. I'll buy ya the prettiest dresses and shiniest things you've ever seen." Lee held his tongue about the babies, he didn't want to push her too far yet.

"So unless you think you can stop me" he made it a point to brush over his gun, "I'm going upstairs to check your ring size. Anything you'd like me to take to my place, you're welcome to let me know."

He vanished upstairs, leaving Y/N to realize this was it. She wondered how far she could get if she ran but the image of the cold hard steel of his gun was enough to squash any rebellion that rolled inside her.

[shijiujun]

thirst follow au for chuyao? (i dunno if you still take prompt requests for chuyao but i just discovered the prompt list you posted and if you do still take prompts i'd love read your version for chuyao of this!!)

new celebrity lu yao + ceo of the company lu yao is signed under qiao chusheng

---

The first thing that Lu Yao does once he’s alone these days is open his Weibo app and scroll to a particular account to look for updates. It doesn’t matter if he’s just started break after his filming sequence, or when he gets home after a day of long activities, before he does anything, Lu Yao is on his phone and checking through @/乔楚生mmc.

“Yao Yao, are you checking through Qiao-zong’s Weibo again?” his manager sighs as she enters the waiting room that has been allocated to Lu Yao for the duration of this period drama shoot.

“... Jie,” Lu Yao grins suddenly, showing her his phone, “Look at him at the ELLE Fashion event, he’s not wearing an inside shirt! It’s just a blazer over, I saw his fans yelling about this earlier but I didn’t have time to check, he just-”

Man Man-jie, his manager, tries not to be exasperated with him, but it has honestly been two months since Lu Yao discovered Qiao Chusheng, the CEO of Qing Long Ying Shi, the largest entertainment and media company in the country, after he visited one of Lu Yao’s shoots. 

Not for Lu Yao of course, but for the world-renowned director that Lu Yao and every other crew and cast member in this production is working with - suffice to say, Lu Yao laid eyes on their company’s CEO for the first time since he signed on a year ago, and he hasn’t been able to keep away from him since. 

It makes him wonder why Qiao Chusheng did not become a star himself, but Man Man said that the man has always had a knack for business development, and the company has only grown stronger after Boss Bai, the man who founded it and who is also Qiao Chusheng’s adoptive father, relinquished the position to him.

“How did you not know Qiao Chusheng is the CEO of this company?! Your paychecks are getting signed by him!”

“Aiya.... Jie, it’s not like I come across him at all... And I thought our CEO was some old man...”

Lu Yao immediately followed Qiao-zong on all his social media accounts because the man is certified exceptional in looks and body. He won’t admit it, but the best thing he likes about Qiao Chusheng aside from his arms, his muscles, his chiseled jaw, those sharp eyes, that hot body, is definitely the man’s smile.

It’s too embarrassing to say though, so Lu Yao stalks him online instead, on his private account that no one knows about. And because it’s a private and almost empty account, Lu Yao dares to leave emoji responses and some comments from time to time.

Today, Lu Yao replied Qiao Chusheng’s post with five thumbs-ups and five fire emojis. On second thought, he adds:

“哥哥帅爆了! 哥哥看我一下~”*

Man Man looks over his shoulder to glance at the comment and rolls her eyes so hard that she almost pulls something in her neck. 

“You know, one of these days, if anyone finds out, you’re dead,” she shakes her head. “When that time comes, you’re on your own. Don’t expect me to clean up on your behalf. Also, Qiao-zong is only a year older than you are, and you’re calling him gege?”

“Hey!” Lu Yao exclaims, indignant, “I have to present myself as one of his young girl fans right? If anyone ever finds out about my account, i can at least roll my eyes and ask if I would ever sound this disgusting, and then people will think twice.”

“Okay, if not that, then could you please change your Weibo name? You’re embarrassing me!”

Lu Yao frowns, confused. He thinks @/三土葱油饼 is a great handle for a social media account.

The best thing is, Qiao-zong has been oddly responsive to social media post comments recently, and he banters hilariously with fans when he has the time. Lu Yao hasn’t gotten that privilege yet, but Qiao-zong seems to be liking a lot of his fans’ posts as well, at least for those who post in the first hour of his new post, and those get likes.

Recently, it has also been Lu Yao’s personal mission to leave a comment and get a like by his Qiao-zong.

“Yao Yao, you’re so stupid, you know that? Not every single fangirl has the opportunity that you do. You literally have an excuse to go see him, you actually have access to him, his office floor? Company events? What game are you playing, stalking him on Weibo?”

Lu Yao tunes her out a little. It’s pretty fun to him, to be able to openly appreciate all these hot and amazing photos of Qiao-zong. Here, he can stare to his heart’s content, and he doesn’t have to hold back when he makes his comments. If he met Qiao Chusheng in person...

Well, of course he wants that too, but would he be more disappointed if Qiao Chusheng barely looks at him, or ignores him? Lu Yao isn’t a small artiste by any measure, and he did win the newcomer award two years ago, but there are so many experienced and legendary colleagues in his company too. 

It is, after all, the country’s media and entertainment industry behemoth, and Lu Yao doesn’t have a complex - he knows what he’s worth right now, and it ain’t a whole damn lot.

When he comes out of the shower two hours later at home, he sees a notification on Weibo, and it says that @/乔楚生mmc has liked his comment! 

His day made, Lu Yao flops back onto his bed and conks out for the next 24 hours.

===

Lu Yao can only thank his lucky stars because someone up there must really be looking out for him. If not, how can anyone explain Qiao Chusheng turning up at his shoot so frequently the week after?

Before this, Lu Yao had literally never seen the man even once aside from that very first meeting that began this whole thirst journey for him, and this week, Qiao-zong has visited every single day.

Of course, it’s not like he’s here for Lu Yao. According to some of his cast mates, Qiao Chusheng’s younger sister Bai Youning wrote the script for the last stage of their filming before the production wraps up, and asked her brother to stay on set to watch every scene being filmed.

The scriptwriter is usually on set for the parts she writes, but this particular segment of filming happened to clash with her honeymoon period with her new husband, but did that stop her from being involved? Not at all, and so busy Qiao Chusheng has to sit his ass down, note down what’s happening, and report back to his adopted sister at the end of each day.

Sadly, this segment will only take five days or less to complete, which means Lu Yao won’t be able to stare at Qiao-zong for much longer.

When will he shine brightly enough to catch Qiao-zong’s attention?

At the thought, Lu Yao slaps his own cheeks.

He only thinks of Qiao Chusheng as eye candy. He’s after a visual feast whenever he logs onto Weibo to catch the man’s updates. Qiao Chusheng is a pillar of strength for him mentally.

Lu Yao has no other untoward fantasy or goals when it comes to Qiao Chusheng.

None at all.

===

Somehow, Lu Yao ends up all drunk and boneless in Qiao-zong’s laps at the end of the week. As they expected, filming wrapped up officially earlier in the evening after Lu Yao filmed his very last scene, and since the CEO was present, there was no reason not to treat everyone on the production to a good meal.

Man Man temporarily left ten minutes ago to take on a call for another possible role for Lu Yao, and the room was cleared when Qiao Chusheng offered to book three huge karaoke rooms upstairs for the crew and cast to continue their party at after their dinner.

Lu Yao has had a bit too much to drink, and Man Man isn’t around to direct him elsewhere, so when the room has emptied, he is still seated, staring at his empty glass of wine. 

Suddenly, he thinks of something, and immediately pats at his pockets for his phone. 

“... Lu-xiansheng,” a voice sounds, “You’re not going to join them upstairs?”

“Mmm,” Lu Yao nods, trying to focus on his phone screen. “Going home.”

A nice-sounding chuckle echoes through the room then, “Can you get home like this?”

“I’m going on Weibo. Man-jie will send me home,” Lu Yao responds, almost sulking a little as he tries to find his favourite Weibo account.

There’s a bit of silence after that, and before Lu Yao can even scroll through today’s updates, a hand closes over the screen.

“You’re drunk, Lu Yao,” the same person says again. “You really shouldn’t be on Weibo. What if you post something by accident?”

Lu Yao pauses, and then he shakes his head, “I’m not posting anything.”

He turns and shows his ‘friend’ his phone screen, “See? It’s a private account, and... and... and I’m just... going to check on my favourite account.”

“Even then,” the man says again, exceedingly gentle and patient, “You should only look at Weibo when you’re sober.”

“No!” Lu Yao protests. “I have to check. I check this account everyday. See? See?”

There’s a long, long moment of silence as Lu Yao scrolls his way down the account, detailing which are his favourite photos. The man lets him go on, and because he’s cold, Lu Yao inches even closer to him.

The last thing he remembers is his new friend taking his phone from him.

===

It’s painfully bright when he wakes up, the light triggering a headache even before he opens his eyes. When he does, however, Lu Yao has to take a long, long moment to figure out just where the fuck he is. 

He’s trying to massage the headache away with his fingers, seated up in bed but having zero energy to get out of it just yet, so when Qiao Chusheng walks through the door with a smile, Lu Yao just stares.

“You’re awake. Great, I got you some fried buns for breakfast, you okay with that? Man Man didn’t say you were on any sort of diet,” the man says casually, as if they are friends.

Lu Yao looks down at himself, and nearly jolts when he realizes he’s in nothing else but a bathrobe.

Before he can panic, Qiao Chusheng adds, “I thought you looked a little uncomfortable sleeping in your jeans and shirt yesterday.”

“I’m sorry,” Lu Yao rasps, trying to wrap his head around why Qiao Chusheng is here, why they’re in a hotel room, and why the fuck the man is even speaking to him in the first place-

He must have inconvenienced the man last night while he was drunk, and instead of throwing him to Man Man, Qiao Chusheng decided to take care of him instead. Maybe Qiao Chusheng could have left him on the streets or something, but he is after all an artist under his company, and if anything strange happened because Lu Yao was drunk, it would be bad for the reputation and image of the company if word got out.

Yes, that’s the only explanation for this.

“I’m sorry for the trouble, Qiao-zong,” Lu Yao says, inching his way out of bed. 

“No trouble at all,” Qiao Chusheng replies. “Come and sit, have some breakfast before you go. I called Man Man, she should be here in a bit to pick you up.”

With that said, it isn’t good for Lu Yao to reject him and just run off no matter how much he wants to right now. He sits down opposite the man at the table, and then picks up the buns.

After he’s literally swallowed three whole buns, Qiao Chusheng comments idly, “I thought it was random when you chose your Weibo account handle, but it seems that you really like cong you bings?”

“Mnn,” Lu Yao nods, wolfing the buns down because he’s hungry as hell, and so he doesn’t’ really register the first part of the man’s sentence, not until he’s on the last bite of his bun.

And then he chokes.

“How did you-?!”

At that, Qiao Chusheng raises an eyebrow, “You showed me your phone yesterday, and introduced to me your favourite account.”

Lu Yao blanches, because he knows which account that is, and then Qiao Chusheng continues, amused, “You were telling me how nice his smile looks. How pretty his eyes are. How strong his arms probably are hidden under that suit. And that you guessed right, he actually does have six-pack-”

“Please stop,” Lu Yao croaks, mortified. “I...”

The man takes pity on him and stops as requested. Lu Yao is frozen in his seat, like a deer caught in headlights, wondering what he should say next.

Qiao Chusheng nods, “Would you like to have lunch with me later?”

“Are you firing me?”

“It’s just lunch,” he answers. “I’m technically your boss, so I understand if you’re uncomfortable with the idea but... we could do lunch, and see how it goes from there.”

And then Qiao Chusheng looks away a little, “And.. I may have been visiting the set not to supervise the interpretation of Youning’s script.”

Once again, it takes him a few solid seconds to connect the dots, and when it does, Lu Yao flushes completely red.

“... we could do lunch,” Lu Yao agrees finally. “But I have to go home and change first.”

When he looks up again, it’s that smile he sees.

===

Weeks later, Chusheng makes Lu Yao repeat every single message he’s left on his posts, all the embarrassing ones, refusing to move if he doesn’t. Lu Yao’s hands balls into fists in the sheets, and says no.

He left a lot of messages! How is he supposed to remember every single one of them?!

Chusheng makes a a convincing argument though, towering over him and not giving into Lu Yao’s requests to fuck him properly until Lu Yao says them. It ends with Lu Yao trying to concentrate enough to speak, word after word.

He’s going to unfollow his boyfriend on Weibo after this!

---

Notes:

1. Qiao Chusheng’s Weibo account name is @/乔楚生mmc = Qiao Chusheng MMC, and this is taken directly from Zhang Yunlong’s own Weibo handle, which is 张云龙mmc. MMC, as I recently found out from Hanyi, stands for mao mao chong = caterpillar/worm? HAHAHAHA

2. Lu Yao’s handle is @/三土葱油饼 = San Tu Cong You BIng, which is a combination of the name San Tu and his favourite fried buns HAHAHA that’s how QCS was inspired to buy fried buns for Lu Yao the morning after

3. The comment that Lu Yao left in Chinese above is: “哥哥帅爆了! 哥哥看我一下~” = Gege you’re handsome af, take a look at me please! Something like that, he was definitely kind of joking when he posted that, but you can imagine Lu Yao being a little troublemaker by posting those comments and once QCS realized it was him, it was payback time? Of course, QCS likes to hear his baobei Lu Yao say anything <3

[oureuphoria]

Worst of You - JJK Final

You meet him under horrible circumstances but everything feels perfect when you’re with him. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. He, however, is a police officer with years worth of built-up turmoil and an inability to make attachments. Or “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy

Pairing: officer!jungkook X  collegestudent!reader

Word count: 2,834

Warnings: None but let me know if you find me. 

Note: I’m so sorry for the really late update BUT I had to finish my paper first! Wow, let me just say I am very, very, thankful to have such amazing, wonderful people who read this fic and I love each and every single one of you so so so much. Thank you for reading and thank you for allowing me to share this with you. This is just the beginning and I have many ideas that are yet to hit paper so this will not be goodbye. Once again, thank you to everyone for reading and I love you all!  

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |

Jungkook promised himself he wouldn’t get sad over you. He tried so hard to stop himself from getting attached and yet here he was, 2 weeks later, unable to focus on a single thing at work. Jungkook spent his entire Saturday moping around his apartment, he recalled how he used to spend Saturday nights, clubbing and one-night-stands, but now none of that appealed to him. You had ruined Jungkook, now he couldn’t even look at a girl the way he used to because he always thought of you instead. On Sunday he was invited out with his brother’s family, his niece and nephew were constantly asking about you and Jungkook couldn’t help but grow sadder each time. He didn’t know why he missed you, or how he even could miss you when he swore to himself he wasn’t attached. It was a Monday and Jungkook was at work again, staring at the same paper for 20 minutes with an empty head. Mel approached him with a coffee. “What’s wrong?” Jungkook gratefully took the cup from her hand as she sat on the chair in front of his desk, where you used to sit. Jungkook scolded himself mentally for thinking of you but no matter how many times he did it, his mind would come back to you.

Mel felt bad for what she did, it was eating her alive and yet she knew if she told him he’d never forgiven her, especially since he lost Y/N.  She was jealous, unaware of the fact that her love for him wasn’t as platonic as she thought it was. It never bothered her before because he was alone but when he wasn’t, all her emotions came cascading upon her as she let her jealousy overrule her rationality. Jealousy was a horrible emotion that caused people to do reckless things, Jungkook knew it, Mel knew it and back at your dorm, you knew it too.

“I’m so stupid! I screwed it all up just because I’m an insecure, jealous little bitch!” You were angrily throwing pillows around as you ranted to Jimin who just came into your room to borrow your laptop charger. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure if you apologize he will understand.” You fell back onto your bed, sighing. “I tried. I called, I messaged, I even went to the station but the receptionist said he didn’t want to see me.” He softly stroked your head as you pouted at the ceiling, he was grateful you stopped crying but your anger was more annoying than your tears. “Make a grand gesture or something, like they do in the movies. You know, with the whole rocks on windows thing and the poetic love letters.” You grabbed one of the pillows you haphazardly threw and aimed it at him. “Except, I’m not 15, this isn’t a movie and he lives in a penthouse; I can’t throw rocks that far up, Jimin!” He threw the pillow back at you and soon enough it became a pillow war.

“Wait!” Jimin’s hand stopped midway through the air. “I have an idea!” Jimin looked at you weirdly but put the pillow down to listen. “What if I reverse ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ and write a letter about all the reasons he should forgive me?” Jimin looked at you blankly, not catching on. “Writing on paper is literally the only thing I’m good at, Jimin!” He smiled before rushing you to get ready while he left the room. Once Jimin was outside, he silently prayed that the letter would work, post-break-up Y/N was the worst Y/N.

“I know he doesn’t want to see me but could you just give this to him-” “Y/N!” Mel’s voice startled you, causing you to drop the letter. You quickly picked it up though in the process you gave yourself a paper cut. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been 4 pages long. “Y/N, I have to apologize about something.” Mel had explained that she had lied to you, and even went further to explain everything you were suspicious about with Jungkook, even covering his fears about his mother. You spoke for about 20 minutes before she told you he was upstairs, at his desk, on his lunch break. Although what she had told you was a lot to take in, you found that the only thing you could think about then was apologizing to Jungkook. You took the letter and zoomed upstairs with Mel’s permission.

The second Jungkook saw you he felt his eyes poke out of his head. He wasn’t expecting to see you, especially not with a huge smile on your face.

“Before you yell at me and tell me to leave, let me explain. Throughout my entire life, the only safe place I had was my mind and I’ve grown to live in it sometimes and despite my unhealthy attachment to it, it hates me. I overthink a lot and whenever I do my mind runs off to the worst possible scenario and my mind turns into pure chaos. It’s not an excuse because it doesn’t justify me accusing you of something you didn’t do and I’m sorry that I didn’t come to you first but you have to know it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be with you. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me but you must accept this apology letter as a sign of my extreme remorse. It contains all the reasons why I believe you should forgive me because I am very, very bad at talking-” before you could finish your rambling, Jungkook interrupted you.

“Y/N, I’m busy, I don’t have time to read your letter right now.” Your smile fell, but you were persistent. “It’s okay I can read it out to you!” He shook his head, picking up the remains of his lunch and throwing it into his bin. You began reading it but he stopped you again “You should go.” You frowned, getting upset because this wasn’t going to plan and you didn’t have a plan B. “But I still have 4 pages left…” You looked like you were going to cry and Jungkook wasn’t sure he could handle it before anything else happened though, Mel interrupted.

“I lied to Y/N.” You looked up at her, shocked and confused because you could almost swear she wasn’t standing there before. “I lied to her about where you were that Friday, that’s why she thought you were cheating.” Jungkook’s face looked mad but his eyes looked hurt. He was betrayed by the one person he thought he could trust, and at that moment, he couldn’t bear to look at either of you. He ignored her confession, stood up and went on his way. “Wales. Hurry up, we have shit to do.” The man quickly picked up racing after he and Mel winced at the sight. “Poor Wales, he’s going to have to deal with the short end of the stick.” Your eyes went to her face, she wasn’t worried at all. “Aren’t you worried he won’t forgive you?” She smiled down at you before saying something that left you perplexed. “I hope he doesn’t.” She walked off right after leaving you with nothing but your racing mind. You grabbed a post-it-note off his table and wrote in all caps ‘PLEASE READ!!’ With a smiley face that followed, you stuck it onto the letter and left it on his desk.

Jungkook said he wasn’t going to read it, he swore to himself he wouldn’t but how could he not when the note you left alone had him missing you like crazy. Fuck it. He thought, picking up the letter angrily. Each and every word made him miss you more and it wasn’t until he read the very last reason you’d written that he realized he needed to see you. He got up quickly, it was already after hours and now that he was corporal he could basically dismiss himself. He said his farewells to the chief and drove to you as fast as (legally) possible. He didn’t go into your dorm building, he parked in front of it and leaned on his car staring at the establishment with an overactive mind. What if you didn’t want to see him? Then what? Jungkook messaged you to go outside and you read it instantly, after a couple of minutes he was worried you weren’t going to come.

Eventually, your small frame squeezed through the tiny opening of the door you managed to open, he remembered you always complaining about how the door was too heavy. “Did you read it?” He smiled at how cute you were, your optimistic eyes clearly hoped for a happy ending. He nodded and the smile you had been fighting back was beaming on your face. “Y/N, I hated it.” Your smile dropped, your face significantly sadder. “Why? Was there a typo? I was rushing so-” “You got the last reason wrong.” You furrowed your eyebrows, you remember faintly that the last reason had simply been you confessing your love to him, you didn’t understand what was wrong.

Jungkook was fishing through the pockets of his coat. “You wrote ‘Reason number 10: I love you. I know you’ve heard me say it before and I know you’re not quite there but I feel like it is a pivotal reason because I think you’re unaware of just how much I love you. P.S. it’s a lot.’ You nodded in reply, you had indeed written that but you weren’t sure what was wrong with it. “Y/N, you wrote that I didn’t love you but you are so terribly wrong.” You felt as if your heart had stopped beating and you were impatiently waiting for him to spit it out. “I love you, Y/N. I don’t know why but from that very first interrogation, I knew I had to get to know you. I’m not sure how I fell in love with you. Maybe it was your weird obsession with those cheese balls from the café that you stared at more than you ate, or your clumsiness that had you adorably tripping all the time, or how excited you got over a good report grade, or your kind, sweet, heart that forgives more than it should. You forgave me every time I screwed up and yet you didn’t expect anything from me. It’s been rough and we’ve both screwed up a lot, although I will admit it was mostly me, I realized that I would much rather exhaust myself fighting for you than rest with someone else.”

“That’s not fair!” Your voice broke in the middle of the sentence because you had started crying. Jungkook was quick to pull you into a hug. “No, baby, don’t cry. What’s not fair?” You spoke into his chest and although it was muffled it was still coherent. “How are you so good at talking?” He let out a chuckle but stopped laughing when you forced yourself out of his arms and started rubbing your cheek. “What’s wrong?” “Your vest hurt my face.” He apologized through laughter which you found mocking and he roughly pinched the cheek you were trying to soothe and you angrily slapped his hand away. “I missed you, princess.” “Well, I miss not having sore cheeks, you bully!” You were genuinely mad because the man you loved just told you he loved you back and all you could think about was how much your cheek hurt.

“But you promised!” You whined while pulling his unresponsive body back and forth.  “Y/N, no.” He pulled you off of him out of annoyance but you couldn’t back down, not with so much at stake. “You promised that if I didn’t rant to you about the shows I was watching for a whole month then you would watch The Office with me!” Jungkook slowly put his laptop down on the coffee table and turned to you, holding both of your hands in his. “Baby, this may come as a shock to you but, I lied.” You sighed in frustration before angrily storming off to your room. Jungkook picked up his laptop to continuing working. Soon after he began to grow afraid of the fact that you may actually be mad at him so he put his laptop back onto the coffee table and slowly made his way to his room, he opened the door ever so slowly and peaked in to see you wrapped up in a blanket, frowning as you watched The Office on your TV.

Jungkook smiled and opened the door completely, violently unwrapping you from your self induced blanket burrito causing you to roll out off of the bed. “Oh shit, sorry.” You didn’t say a word, still evidently mad at him. “The silent treatment, over this?” Jungkook gestured at the screen looking unimpressed. “Excuse me, The Office is one of the most iconic sit-coms to ever be televised in the existence of sit-coms, you’re just uncultured.” Jungkook was having a dilemma, was he supposed to be glad you were speaking to him again or be mad over the fact that you had called him uncultured. “I just don’t understand the hype around sit-coms it’s basically the same situation over and over with different variables-” You slapped your hand onto his mouth to shut him up. “You already ruined Brooklyn 99 for me, keep this to yourself.”

After an entire year of being together, your dynamic was still yet to change. You both still acted like 12-year-old frenemies and madly in love adults simultaneously and you wouldn’t trade it for the world but in moments like such, the urge to strangle him was unbearable. “See this is why we can’t have nice things, Kook.” You folded your arms as you laid back onto the bed but Jungkook was committed to ensuring you didn’t go to bed angry. After several minutes of tense silence, the clock hit midnight and Jungkook whispered into your ear, “happy birthday, Y/N.” You tried to fight back a smile but you couldn’t no matter how hard you tried. You turned to him, smiling bitterly before whispering back, “Happy Anniversary, Jungkook.”

[starryknight09]

Unforeseen dangers ch 10

Summary:  As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“How did they figure it out?” Tony growled as soon as he walked into the conference room.  He’d tampered his anger down for Peter’s sake, but now that Peter was safe upstairs, he felt it was fine to finally let it out.

Everyone made faces at each other around the table but no one answered his question.  So, it was going to be like that.

“Well?” He asked, this time aiming his question at Pepper.  She wouldn’t be afraid to tell him the hard stuff.

Pepper sighed but met his eyes unflinchingly.  “You’re not going to like it.”

“I already don’t like it.” He snapped and sat down heavily in the empty chair at the head of the table, Pepper to his immediate right.  Just like old times.

“Somehow they got ahold of the name change paperwork.”

“What?”

“I told you you wouldn’t like it.” Pepper pursed her lips.  “It gets worse.  They dug deeper and found the adoption paperwork as well.”  

“So there’s no way we can deny this.” Tony rubbed a hand roughly over his forehead and eyes.

“No.”

“So what do we do now?  Besides figuring out who leaked this and suing the hell out of them.”

“Naturally.” Pepper agreed.  “That’s already being looked into as we speak.”

“Good.”

“But as to how we deal with this…” She sighed.  “I’m open to ideas.”

“You’re kidding.”

Pepper stared him down.  She obviously wasn’t kidding.

“We don’t have anything set up for this?  No contingency plan?  Nothing?  It’s not like we haven’t been flirting with this exact disaster for the past two months.” He looked at all his employees lined up on either side of the table.  “What do I pay you people for?”

“To be fair, you didn’t want a contingency plan.” Pepper said, tone sharp without raising her voice.

“I never said that.”

“Yes you did.  When the first photo leaked I gave you options for how to deal with this and you wanted to deny it, and then later when I wanted to talk to you about putting together a contingency plan just in case, you told me ‘you didn’t want to think about it and you’d figure it out if something happened.’  Is that ringing any bells?”

“You don’t have to air quote me.” He complained as Pepper’s hands fell from doing just that back to their loose clasp on the table.  He actually did remember that conversation now.  It’d been about a week after the first photo leak.  He’d been in a terrible mood and Pepper had wanted to talk about coming up with a plan for what to do if one of his worst case scenarios happened, if Peter’s identity leaked, and he, well, he hadn’t wanted to think about it at the time.  He’d wanted to stick his head in the sand and hope for the best instead.  Not one of his better decisions, clearly.

Pepper raised an eyebrow at him.

“And you listened to me?” He asked as he threw his hands up and practically jumped out of his chair.  “You never listen to me.  This is the one time you decide not to go behind my back and come up with something on your own anyway?”

Pepper glared at him.

“What?  You know it’s true.  You do do that!” He held a finger up in defense.

Melanie, his head of PR, sitting to his left, cleared her throat.  “I think maybe we’re getting a little off topic here Mr. Stark.”

“Yes.  Yes we are.” He broke away from Pepper’s death glare and rubbed at his eyes again before turning to her, “Melody, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Melanie.” She corrected automatically without surprise or displeasure, more than used to his antics by now.  

“Yeah yeah.” He nodded and waved his hand in a circle as an indication for her to start talking.

“We need to make a statement.”

“Yes, obviously.”

Melanie gave him a look that was such a mirror image of Pepper’s that he felt dizzy for a second.

“What I mean is, what do you suggest we say?” He tried to be civil and looked over to Pepper for her approval, but she still had her stony business face in place.

“We confirm that you adopted Peter this summer.  We should give them a little bit about his background, how you got to know each other, the circumstances that led to his adoption—”

“Do they really need to know all that?  I don’t really want to splash my kid’s life across the tabloids.”

“That’s what I’m trying to keep from happening Mr. Stark.” Melanie said in a carefully controlled tone.  “If we give them nothing then it’ll only be worse.  They’ll be relentless digging for more information on him.”

“They’re going to do that anyway.”  God, they were.  His poor kid’s life was going to get turned inside out.

“Yes, but this way we can control it.  We set the context.  We give them enough information to satiate their curiosity but not so much that they know everything about Peter.”

He hated the idea of giving the vultures anything.

“Melanie’s right Tony.  This is how we need to do this.” Pepper agreed.

“Fine.” He held his palms up in defeat.  He knew they were right, but he still didn’t like it.

“I would also suggest that we release a few handpicked photos of the two of you together.” A brunette to the left of Melanie piped in.  Tony would’ve admired her courage if her suggestion hadn’t set his temper alight.

“No.  Absolutely not.” He wanted to yell, but he grit out the refusal at a low level volume instead.

More hesitant glances amongst his employees around the table ensued.

“You should listen to her.” Natasha spoke up.

“Oh I’m sorry I thought you were here to listen, not offer up advice on how to deal with my kid and my company.” He sniped, annoyed that she was taking their side.

Nat met his anger coolly.  “If you don’t, they’ll keep doing what they’ve been doing these past couple months.  Photos of the two of you together and photos of just him now that they know he’s your son.  If you don’t give them something they’re going to hound both of you until they get it, and you know it.”

He hated that she was right.

“Dammit.” He swore and stood, knocking his desk chair over in the process.  Pepper didn’t so much as flinch.  Tony grit his teeth as he turned his back on the table and took a couple steps toward the wall, where he stood facing it while he closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths.

He hated this situation with a burning anger he hadn’t felt in a long time, like a smoldering flame deep inside his belly growing white hot as more oxygen was added to it.  He’d never wanted this for Peter.  He loved him.  He was his son but somehow he’d foolishly thought he’d be able to keep him separate from all the evil and burdens that came with that.  He had to accept that it was impossible now.  And he needed to stay strong and collected for Peter even if on the inside he was having a breakdown.

“I’m sorry.” He said, the words coming out strong even though he felt anything but strong at the moment.

He took another deep breath and turned back around, moving to calmly set his chair upright again before standing at his spot at the head of the table.  A few of the newer employees looked a little shellshocked but he ignored it.  “Fine.” He leaned forward, his hands splaying out in front of him on the table.  “I’ll make a statement and release a few pictures.  What else?”

“At the end of your statement, you should be sure to ask for privacy.” Joe, the wizened white-haired head of his legal team, suggested, not cowed at all by his minor outburst.  He’d been on staff since pre-Ironman times.  

“Of course.”

“It’s too bad you don’t still live in California.” Joe added.  “Because of Peter’s status as a minor, it would give him some protections.  California passed a law in 2013 that makes it illegal to intentionally harass children of celebrities, such as for the purpose of taking photos.”

“And that’s only a law in California?” He frowned.

“As of now.” Joe nodded.  “But if you want, I could write up a proposal for the governor to pass a similar law here.  It’s a long shot but it wouldn’t hurt, especially if you don’t want to move.”

“We’re not moving to California.”

Joe shrugged.

“But yes, do that.” A law like that sure would’ve been helpful when he’d been a child.

“Of course, sir.”

“Tony,” Cap spoke up from his seat at the opposite end of the table, “have you given any thought to taking Peter up to the compound instead of staying here?  At least until things calm down?”

Tony blinked.  He hadn’t.

“I mean,” Steve continued when his suggestion wasn’t met with an immediate refusal, “it’s not like he’s not going to school tomorrow, right?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead either.

“Right.” He said with uncharacteristic hesitance.

“That’s a good idea.” Natasha agreed.  “We can do the press conference here and then go to the compound.  It’ll give everyone a little more room to breathe.”

He nodded absently.  Sure.  So apparently now he was taking his kid out of school and high tailing it to the compound.  Peter wasn’t going to like that.  He let out another heavy sigh and sat back down in his chair like a puppet with its strings cut.

“How long do you think this media frenzy is going to take to die down?” He asked, aiming his question at Melanie.  Maybe they could wait out the worst of it at the compound.

“Hard to say.” She hedged.

“Best guess.”

“Months.” She deadpanned.

“Jesus.” He ran a hand through his hair.  Definitely too long to wait it out.

“It may be even longer than that.  Peter’s currently trending on every social media platform out there.” A younger guy with blonde hair dressed in a hipster suit added.  Tony didn’t recognize him but figured he must be one of their social media guys.  “The numbers I’m looking at are almost unprecedented.”

“Wonderful.”

“I recommend not letting him post anything until we have a chance to advise him.” The guy added.  “I see he’s currently active on Instagram and Twitter.”

“Sure.  I’ll take your word for it.” Tony huffed.  He didn’t know what kind of social media presence Peter had.  He’d never really needed to worry about it before.

Melanie cleared her throat and piped in, “I’d also like a chance to advise Peter on some things.  And give him a short debrief on all of this.”

“I’ll be doing that.” He countered.

“Um,” Melanie glanced over at Pepper for some help, “I really think I should at least have a sit down with him.

“Tony.” Pepper prompted, throwing her support behind Melanie.

“Fine.” He shook his head.  “But I talk to him first.”

“Of course Mr. Stark.”

“When Melanie’s done, can I schedule sit down with him as well Mr. Stark?” The blonde guy asked.

He turned to Pepper for help, trying not to feel like his own SI team was competing for his kid’s time like the media vultures out there.

“Of course Alex.” Pepper answered for him.  “How about I put together some sort of schedule for Peter so we don’t all completely overwhelm him?”

Heads nodded all around the table.

“And I think we can all agree none of this has to happen today.  We can at least give him a little time to let it all sink in first.” Pepper added.

Everyone nodded again.

“I’d like a few minutes with him Ms. Potts.”

“Me too.”

Tony rubbed his eyes again, feeling a splitting headache coming on.  Just great.  A migraine was exactly what he needed right now.

“I’d also like to reach out to a few of the more reputable media sources and set up some interviews.” Paul spoke up and then clarified, “For you.  Not Peter.  Obviously.”  Paul was one of the longer standing workers on his PR team who dealt with managing relations between himself and various media sources, which was the reason Tony knew him by name.  They’d had some good times in the past, particularly behind the scenes on Letterman back in the nineties.

“Is that really something we need to do right now?  It can’t wait until tomorrow, or hell, next week?” He snapped, quickly losing his patience with the entire situation.

“No.  It can wait.” Paul gave him an easy going shrug as if he hadn’t just gotten his head bitten off in front of everyone.

“Sorry.” His headache was rapidly ratcheting up in intensity.  “I know we’re at defcom one right now, but can we just deal with only the things that are of immediate importance today?  We have the rest of the week to sort everything else out.”  He dug through his suit pockets and found the tinted sunglasses he’d put on Peter earlier.  Now he slid them over his own eyes.  They weren’t quite dark enough to help with the light sensitivity, but they took the edge off.

“Mr. Stark’s right.” Pepper supported him.  Thank god.  “We’ll draft a statement for the press and we’ll make sure Peter doesn’t post anything on social media until he talks to Melanie and Alex.  Besides that, what else can’t wait and needs to be dealt with right now?”

“Security.” His new head of security, Hans something or other, said.  

Tony just stared at him for a couple long seconds, the statement not computing.

“For the kid.” Hans added as if sensing his confusion.

Tony’s brow’s furrowed briefly before he realized it was a completely legitimate concern.  Shit.  No one knew Peter was Spiderman besides the Avengers and his two nerdy school friends.  Of course Peter would need his own security detail, just like Tony had when he was a kid.

“Yeah.” He gave his head a little shake as if clearing the fog.  “Of course.”

“I’ll put together a proposal for his personal security.” Hans continued.  “And I’ll speak to his school about what security measures we can take there.”

Tony pulled his glasses off and tossed them onto the table before putting his face in his hands, elbows resting on the table in front of him.

“Yep.” He agreed, not sounding happy at all.  “Mmhm.”

“We’ll also need to put together different protocols for when he’s ready to go back in public, and I’d like to have some time to discuss certain scenarios with him.” Hans continued.

“Tony.” Pepper prompted when he said nothing.

“I’m listening.” He said into his palms.

“I also think it’d be prudent for me to spend some time with him one on one to teach him some basic hand to hand combat moves.”

“I can do that.” Natasha spoke up.

Hans inclined his head toward her in respect.  “Then I’ll leave that to you.”

“Great.” Tony dropped his hands down swiftly and squinted as he looked around the table.  “Anything else?”

Everyone glanced around at each other but no one spoke.

“No?  Can we be adjourned then?” Tony asked, turning toward Pepper.

“Let’s take a short break everyone.  We’ll reconvene in ten minutes.”

It took everything in him not to legitimately whine to her that he wanted to be done.

Everyone gathered up their things and brusquely left at the dismissal.

“You guys can go.” Tony dismissed his Avengers team, who’d stayed behind.

“You sure?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.  You need to go let everyone else know about the compound plan, so if any of them want to join they can get busy packing.  I know how much luggage Sam travels with.”  He tried to joke but it came out sounding flat even to him.

Steve gave him a small smile as he and Natasha both stood and left.  Once the door had shut behind them, he turned to Pepper and suggested, “You don’t really need me for the rest of this, do you?”

Pepper raised her eyebrows at him.

“Come on Pep.  We both know you can deal with all the nitty gritty details on your own.  Draft up a statement.  I’ll read it.  And then we can talk about everything else tomorrow at the compound.” He rubbed at his temples and saw her eyes soften.

“Fine,” she agreed, “but only because I can tell you’re getting a migraine.”

“You know me so well.” He gave her a weak half smile.

Pepper checked her watch. “The press conference starts in an hour.  Why don’t you lie down until then?  And take some Excedrin.”

He hummed in agreement.  That sounded like a great idea but it warred with his guilt about leaving Peter alone.  He should really get back to his kid.

“Peter can wait.” Pepper continued as if she’d read his mind.  “He’ll be fine.  You need to take care of yourself too.  Besides, this way you’ll look better for the cameras.”

“Hey!  I always look great for the cameras.”

“I can give you several examples of when you did not.” Pepper smirked and gave a small shake of her head.

“Name one.” He challenged.

“Ibiza 1999.”

“Ooo ouch.  Going for blood.  To be fair, I was up for almost 72 hours at that point.  And I didn’t know that one girl’s ex-fiance was the captain of that yacht.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Fine.  I’m going to go lay down for one hour.” He held up a finger.

“Forty five minutes.” Pepper corrected.

“Ok fine.  Forty five minutes then.  FRI?”

“Alarm set Boss.”

He started walking out of the conference room.

“And take that Excedrin.”

“Yeah yeah.”

“I mean it Tony.”

“I will.” He said as the door shut behind him, and surprisingly, he actually meant it.

*******************************

A constant obnoxious low volume beeping, slowly increasing in volume every few seconds, woke him up.

He groaned.  The pounding that’d taken up residence behind his eyes still hadn’t abated, but it wasn’t any worse than when he’d laid down so maybe the Excedrin had actually helped somewhat.

“Boss, you have thirteen minutes to get dressed and downstairs for the press conference.”

He groaned again and buried his face in his pillow.

“Boss.” FRIDAY prompted again.

“I heard you the first time.” He rasped into his pillow.  “And they’ll wait.  It’s my press conference, isn’t it?”

He didn’t know how FRIDAY’s silence could sound so disapproving.

After a few long breaths he finally managed to push himself up.  He just needed to get this over with.  Like ripping off a bandaid.  He made his way to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face.  It helped the headache for the brief second it was in contact with his face but then all the relief faded as quickly as the water washed away.  Once he toweled off, he examined his reflection.  At least he didn’t look half as terrible as he felt.  The slight squint between his eyes gave away his discomfort, but that could be cured with a well chosen pair of sunglasses.  He fixed his hair so it looked like its classic well manicured bedhead instead of his actual bedhead.  That helped.  Now all he needed was a good suit and he’d be presentable enough that not even Pepper could complain.

“You have five minutes.” FRIDAY reminded him as he walked to the closet.

“Yeah well tell them I’m going to be a little late.” He grumbled as he rifled through his clothes.  “Knowing me it shouldn’t come as too much of a shock.”

“Very well.”

He donned a crisp white shirt and burgundy tie under a dark navy vest and suit and topped the look off with a pair of oversized sunglasses with black frames and blue shaded lenses.  They were just borderline too dark for inside wear but they helped his headache so he refused to care.

“Ms. Potts would like to know when to expect you.” FRIDAY said.

“Tell her I’m on my way down right now.” He said, doing one last check in the mirror to make sure he looked put together.  Usually he wouldn’t care so much, but he recognized the importance of this moment.  This was how he was going to look when he told the world he had a son.  This look would probably be memorialized on the internet and across all the newspapers of the world tomorrow.  And not only that, but he knew his appearance for this moment would reflect on Peter, so he wanted to be at his best.  Migraine be damned.  He’d done press conferences in way worse shape than he was in now.  Although this one was probably one of his most personally important.  He gave his tie one last adjustment before he decided he was good.

Walking past the kitchen, he practically tripped when the smell of fresh coffee emanating from the pot stopped him in his tracks.  His Rolex said he was already five minutes late.  Whatever.  What was another five?  Besides, he was fairly certain that Pepper had been the one to brew it for him while he’d slept.  That was something thoughtful she used to do when she knew he had a migraine.

“FRIDAY tell Pep thanks for the coffee.” He said as he poured it into a thermos.

“She says you can thank her by getting your ass downstairs.  And that’s a direct quote Boss.”

“Obviously.” A corner of his mouth turned up in fond amusement.  “Tell her, I’m coming dear.”

He pressed the lid on and took a sip.  Perfect.  Brewed just how he liked it, and hopefully the caffeine would help with his headache.

The elevator doors closed behind him and it dropped like a stone.

“Whoa FRIDAY.  Slow it down a little.”

“Sorry Boss.” FRIDAY responded and the elevator slowed the velocity of its descent.  “Ms. Potts requested I expedite your arrival in every way possible.”

“Yeah well I’m guessing she doesn’t want me to lose my lunch all over my suit in the process because that’d definitely defeat the purpose.” He grumbled and took another drink of coffee, hoping it’d help calm the background nausea that had suddenly flared up.

“Would you like me to contact Dr. Banner?” FRIDAY offered.

“No.  Just…shhh.” He winced and rubbed at his temples before closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall, letting himself have a vulnerable moment while he was still alone.

“Arriving.” FRIDAY announced a handful of seconds later, although at a much softer volume than before.

He straightened up and put on his public eye mask as the doors opened and he walked out, taking an immediate left down the hallway that would lead to the auditorium they used for almost all their SI press conferences.  He ducked into a side door right before the double doors at the end of the hallway.

“Is it actually impossible for you to be on time for something?” Pepper asked as soon as the door closed behind him.  Her tone held no bite, so he knew she wasn’t actually mad.

“Maybe.”

She rolled her eyes, arms crossed in front of her chest as she looked him up and down.  “You look hungover.” She decided.

“What?  No I don’t.”

She peered closer at him.  “I can barely even see your eyes.  At least take the glasses off.”

“Well since it feels like a miniature miner is going to town with an icepick in my head right now I’m going to have to pass on that.”

Pepper sighed but the lines of her face softened.  “Do you need me to reschedule?”

He took another long drag of coffee, half of it gone already.  “No.  We both know I need to do this today.”

She nodded but still looked unsure.

“Don’t worry.  I’ve done these things in way worse shape than this.  I think I might’ve even done one or two while I was actually asleep.”

That got a true smile out of her.  “Oh, I know.”

“So this’ll be a piece of cake.” He said even though he knew the opposite was true.

“If you say so…”

“I do.  So where’s this statement I’m reading?”

“Here.” Pepper handed him a piece of paper with the words typed out on it.  Any other day he would’ve made some quip about how they were using paper when they were the most technologically innovative company in the world, but he just didn’t have the energy for it today.

He skimmed it over quickly and set it down on a table nearby.  “Can I have a pen?”

“Oh no no.  You’re not changing anything.” Pepper shook her head adamantly.

“Just a few things.” He held a hand out while re-reading the paper in front of him.

“No.”

He looked up at her.  “Pep I promise it’ll be fine.  Just give me a pen.  If it makes you feel better you can read it before I go out there.”

She pursed her lips and let out a long sigh but acquiesced and handed him her Mont Blanc pen.  “Fine.”

He quickly reworded a few phrases, cut a sentence out here and there and then added another few sentences.  Once he finished, he re-read it a couple times before handing it over to Pepper along with her pen.  “Here.”

The noise of the auditorium could be heard through the closed door at the other side of the room.  It was the door that would lead him directly into a narrow hallway behind the podium from where he’d make his entrance.  He took another long drink of coffee as he waited for Pepper to read over his changes.

“Ok.” She said when she’d finished.

“Just ok?” He prompted with a teasing grin.

“It’s good.  We should be fine as long as you actually stick to the script for once.”

“You know I’m allergic.” He smirked.

“Believe me, I know.” She smiled in amusement.

“But this time, for you, I promise I will try to stick to the cards.”

“Good.” She gave him a nod and handed the paper back.

He took it, folded it, and tucked it into his suit pocket.  She was right.  He almost never stuck strictly to the cards, his announcement as Ironman a prime example, but actually only one of many.  He had no intention of veering off script this time, though.  Not with something this important.  Not when it impacted his kid.

They walked toward the door of the auditorium together and paused before it.  He turned toward Pepper and she gave him another quick once over, reaching out to fix a few errant hairs and straighten his tie ever so slightly before brushing down his shoulders, a well choreographed dance they’d perfected after so many years together.

“Ready?” She asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” He smiled but he knew she could see through it, that he was nervous and trying to hide it.

“Tony.” She said gently.  “It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will.” He agreed boldly.  It had to be.  Before either of them could say anything else, he yanked open the door and stepped out.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

I was in Saint Denis and was doing the rob 5 town people challenge, when some woman started sassing me. Arthur grabbed her so her back was against his chest and put the gun to her head, saying "I wasnt gonna rob you but now I am." Could you write Arthur/reader where a few months later she ends up falling in with the camp and recognises his voice?

Woo boy, this one was fun and honestly could be the start of a multi-chapter fic! Great prompt! Also, Arthur is hilarious when he comes up with stuff like this. 

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You watch as the ferry floats away from the pier. Your hand lowers as it would be impossible for your cousin to see you at this point. Part of you still wishes you could have gotten a ticket for this ferry, but at the same time, you’re glad you couldn’t. For the last few days, you’ve gotten a bad feeling about the boat. You doubted it was nothing, that you were just being silly, so you said nothing to your cousin. 

As you turn and look down the street at the town of Blackwater, you begin lightly humming to yourself. It couldn’t be a more beautiful day. You’ll miss your cousin, the two of you are good friends, but she lives in Saint Denis with her parents. You live here alone, but you don’t want to leave. Blackwater is all you’ve ever known. It’s where your parents are buried and where you grew up. 

You pass the barber’s shop and you get a sudden sense of dread, like there’s a heavy anticipation settling over the town. You can’t put your finger on as to why. Nothing seems wrong or out of place, plenty of people are milling about the town. It seems like a regular day. 

As you walk down the street, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling, you suddenly hear shouts and screams. A police officer on his horse runs past you, heading for the lake. He yells out “Ferry’s being robbed!” 

You watch in terror as people begin fleeing, cops swarming the streets and heading for the lake. Gun shots ring out. You begin backing up quickly and slam into someone hard. 

“Watch it, buddy,” you say, glaring at the man. Of course it wasn’t his fault, more yours than his really, but you’ve never been known for apologizing. Without warning, the man suddenly grabs you, pins your back to his chest, and he whips out his gun, pointing it to your temple. In the chaos surrounding you, no one stops to rescue you. 

“Now you listen here, miss,” he growls in your ear, his voice mixing with your heartbeats. “I wasn’t gonna rob ya, I was here to rob someone else. But now I have ya, hand over whatever ya got.” 

“Please, mister, I don’t have anything,” you plead, your hands scratching at his arm wrapped around your shoulders, but seem to have no effect. 

“Bullshit. You damn city folk always got somethin’. Now hand it over!” 

“Okay, okay!” You reach into your pocket and pull out the fifty dollars you had. You’d intended to use the money to pay down your house for this month. You stuff the bills into his hand.

“There, that weren’t so hard. Now get outta here, and don’t mention me!” He shoves you hard and runs towards the lake, following the footsteps of the officers. You don’t get a good look at his face. 

The incident of the double robbery terrifies you so much you stay out of Blackwater for the next few weeks. It’s alright anyways as the town is now swarmed by bounty hunters, officers and even Pinkertons, looking for the criminals. They wouldn’t be so bad, until the Governor declared that the town was going into complete lockdown. This meant that all businesses would be shut down until further notice and all residents must stay inside and even open their homes up to be searched in case anyone was housing fugitives. 

This turns out to be devastating for you. Your home sits on the outlying border of Blackwater where you run a very small dairy farm. You’ve always managed to make a decent living as everyone buys milk, but with this lockdown, no one comes. The government has even sent in supplies to the residents, such as milk and eggs, in order to keep everyone alive for the meantime. 

Blackwater, however, is not a cheap place to live anymore. Not ever since it stopped being a simple trading post, and it’s getting even more expensive now that the train station is being built. Even though businesses have stopped, bills haven’t. You still have to pay for the loan on your home as it wasn’t paid off when your parents died, and with no incoming money, your savings quickly dry up. 

Things go on this way for weeks, and your situation goes from bad to worse. The criminals have not been caught yet and there’s been no word on their whereabouts either, so the Pinkertons and bounty hunters haven’t left yet. Your situation is growing dire. Just last week, someone from the bank stopped by to remind you to pay this month’s amount towards your property. You tried to explain that with the lockdown, you no longer have the money. He claimed it wasn’t the bank’s problem and they expected their payment by the end of the month otherwise you risk losing the property. 

You would start selling milk again. Hell, these past few weeks all your supplies have basically been thrown away (the cows haven’t stopped milking after all). However, with the government giving out free milk and supplies, no one will pay for yours. You even try to sell the fact that the milk’s as fresh as it can be, but then the Pinkertons catch wind of your business and threaten to imprison you for it as all businesses are still shut down. They don’t care either when you explain your predicament. 

The month ends and on the first day, officials from the bank come and seize your property. It doesn’t matter how much you scream and fight, claiming it’s the city government’s fault as you could have paid if you’d been allowed to run your business. They don’t care and by the end of the day, you’re left sobbing in the dirt with the few possessions you could carry. How will you be able to survive? 

It’s clear that you can’t stay in Blackwater. There’s nothing left for you here except bad memories. It’s impossible to say how long this situation will last either. Instead of living on the streets, you decide to move to Valentine. Perhaps you can get a job as a waitress. You still have enough money that, even though you couldn’t pay for your house, maybe you can buy a cheaper property up there. Maybe even some cows and you can start over again. Besides, Valentine is a livestock town. You know livestock. 

However, when you get to Valentine, things don’t go as you planned. Sure, you got a job as a waitress in the saloon, but it doesn’t pay very much and there are no properties for sale near the town. The few that are for sale are far away and too much for you to afford. You ask the manager of the saloon (who’s also the bartender) if you can live in one of the rooms upstairs until your situation is sorted out.

“Unless you’re working in one of those rooms, I can’t afford to let you live there.” 

You know what he means by working in those rooms and you won’t stoop that low. You still have standards, after all. In the end, you have no choice but to sleep outside and work as much as possible during the days. You think things have hit an all time low. 

One afternoon, you’re waiting tables. A particularly rowdy group of ranch hands comes in and gets a table. They immediately flag you down and you sigh. These types of men are the worst, but if you play your cards right, they can pay some of the highest tips. Especially if you’re quick on refilling their drinks. 

Usually ranch hands don’t stay too long, but this group seems to want to stay. It’s been well over an hour and all of them have had their fair share of drinks, making them even louder and rowdier. As you approach them with more shots of whiskey, one man puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close. 

“Hey, how much for a night, missy?” he asks. 

“I don’t do that,” you say flatly. 

“Oh come on. Bet you’d do it for someone like me,” he says. 

“Why would I?” you glare down at him. 

“Because I’m the sheriff’s son, miss. I can get you anythin’ you want.” 

“Become the governor’s son and maybe I’ll think about it. And maybe think about becoming more than some ranch hand,” you snap and try pulling away. He just clenches your hips harder. 

“You hear how this girl talks to fellers like us?” he laughs to his friends. They guffaw and point at you. “Seriously, girl, I’ve made all the other women in this saloon swoon before.” 

“Well then go back to swooning them.” 

“Nah, been there, done that. I want you.” 

“Let go of me! I ain’t that kinda girl! Now take your drinks and get lost. All of you!” 

“Hey, you can’t talk to us like that!” one man says. “We’re patrons!” 

“I can, and I’m telling you all to get out!” You march over to the bar and tell the bartender your problem. He recognizes the man who was hitting on you and says that the sheriff’s cleaning his slate for some gambling problems, so he has to let his son stay. However, he doesn’t want you getting harassed, so he has one of the other girls cover for you. 

When your shift is done, you head outside to have a smoke and dreading the fact that it looks like it might rain tonight. You’re still sleeping practically on the streets, so it’ll be a bad night. As you stand and smoke, lost in thought, you don’t hear the footsteps behind you. 

Someone grabs you hard from behind, pinning you to their body. The sheriff’s son’s voice hisses in your ear, wreaking of alcohol. 

“Hey there, missy. Just the two of us now. How about we skip talk of pay and just get down to business, hmm?” 

His hand suddenly gropes you and you kick him in the shin. He yelps in pain and you push away from him. “I told you I ain’t that kind of girl! Now get lost before I tell your daddy what you do to women.” 

His face scrunches in rage and he lunges at you, knocking you onto your back. You try fighting him but he’s much stronger and he’s got the upper hand. His hands pin your arms down as he tries kissing you, so you headbutt him. One hand releases your arm to press on his bleeding nose and you take the opportunity, grabbing his cattleman revolver, pointing it at his gut, and firing. 

The bang echoes against the building, and you quickly throw him off of you. He writhes for a few seconds, a gurgling coming out of his mouth. You watch in shock as he draws his last breath. You certainly hadn’t meant to kill him. 

The door to the saloon slams open and the bartender steps out. He looks at the body, you standing over it with the gun still in your hand. 

“I…. I…” you stammer, not knowing what to say. 

“My God, Y/N! You killed him!”

“He attacked me!” you say. 

“Sheriff’s gonna lose his mind about this! He’s not one to mess around with the law, but when he hears about his boy… oh, Y/N, this is bad!” 

“But he attacked me! I didn’t mean to kill him!” 

The bartender comes over and smacks the pistol out of your hand. “You best get out of here, Y/N. I weren’t the only one who heard that gunshot. Sheriff or one of his deputies will be here any second and if they find you like this…. You’ll be hung by the end of the week. Go on, get outta here. I’ll come up with something.” 

Without hesitating, you run off. He’s right of course, now that you’ve killed a man you can’t stay here. You run as fast as you can, heading south, but it doesn’t take long for you to lose your breath. By the time you hunker down, a painful stitch in your side, you realize how bad things have gotten. As the reality of it all sets in, you begin to sob. 

You killed a man. Sure, he’d been attacking you and if he’d lived, he’d surely have done something truly terrible, but the fact remains. A man is dead because of you. Not only that, but the likelihood of the sheriff discovering the truth is a guaranteed problem. His son’s friends surely must have seen him coming after you. They’d know you’re his most likely killer, and they won’t have a problem telling the sheriff. You’re in big trouble. 

The weight of this all forces you down to your knees and you sob harder. What can you possibly do? Should you head on to another town? But which one? So far, you haven’t had any luck being able to afford a new home. You just can’t seem to dig yourself out of this hole. 

You hear a voice. “Ma’am? Ma’am, you okay?” 

You look up and see an elderly man. His clothes are rough, dirty and torn in places. He’s got a bulbous nose and a thick gray beard and a wide belly. His eyes, though dark, have a kind look to them. 

“I… I killed him.” The words slip out of your mouth. 

“Killed who?” he asks. 

“The sheriff’s son. I… I killed him. It was an accident.” 

“Oh so you’re the one they’re looking for.” Fear stabs you in the stomach. This quick and you already have a bounty on you. He straightens up and looks down the road at Valentine. “You say it was an accident?” 

You nod, getting to your feet and preparing to run. He’s an old man, he won’t be able to catch you easily. “Yeah. Bastard was trying to rape me, so I shot him.” 

The man blinks. “Sounds like you’re in a bad way. Heard he was the sheriff’s son. Say, I don’t do this for everyone, but why don’t you come with me? I got a place you can stay until you get things figured out.” 

“You aren’t planning on raping me too, are you? No offense, but I’m not in the mood to trust many men right now.” 

“Don’t be thick, come on now. I live with a big group. Sure, there’s quite a few men, but I promise ain’t one of ‘em gonna touch ya. Especially when they hear you’ve already killed the man who tried to get ya.” 

Instead of feeling suspicious, you can’t help but trust this man. He leads you down the trail towards a large copse of trees. As he walks into them, he turns to you. 

“Think you’ll fit right in with us, miss. Everyone I live with has got a record behind ‘em. Hell, some of ‘em have killed more people than I’m even capable of counting, but don’t tell ‘em I said that.” 

“So, you run with a gang of outlaws?” you say, feeling nervous again. 

“That’s how you might choose to see it, but they’re alright really. Come on, I’ll introduce you.” 

The old man leads you into a clearing. There you see several wagons and a few tents. Despite the hour, there’s still plenty of people milling about. A man sits at a round table with two women, a guitar in his hand and he’s singing in Spanish. Around one of the fire’s further away is a man in a plaid shirt talking to some other men. Not too far, near a tent, a woman sits next to a small boy, who’s playing in the dirt with a stick. 

“Uncle!” a loud voice calls out. It seems to be directed to the man guiding you in. You look to see the owner of the voice. A tall, well groomed man with dark hair marches over to you, followed by a thin, gangling man with gray hair and a thoughtful face. “Uncle, what the hell are you doing? I said no more passengers!” 

“Hey, hey, relax Dutch! Just a girl, got in a spot of trouble in town, figured she needed some help.” 

“We can’t afford to feed any more mouths, you old goat!” 

“What kind of trouble?” says the gray haired man. The two men look at you curiously. You realize they’re waiting for you to say something. 

“I…. I killed the sheriff’s son. He was attacking me, so I shot him. It was an accident.” 

Another man saunters over. He’s a broad man with curious blue eyes, a leather hat and a blue striped shirt. He smokes a cigarette, the other hand on his gun belt. 

“What’s goin’ on?” he asks. His voice sounds horribly familiar. You try to pin down where you recognize it from. 

“Uncle brought this girl in, says she killed the sheriff’s son,” the gray haired man says. 

“That so?” the blue eyed man says. “Well, we got enough trouble, Uncle. Think you better take her back there. Let the sheriff deal with her.” 

It suddenly clicks where you know him from. “You! You’re the man who robbed me in Blackwater!” 

The man blinks and lowers his brow, clearly confused. “What?” 

“You robbed me in Blackwater! The day that ferry got robbed! You’re the reason I lost my house!” 

“I didn’t make you lose your house, miss.” 

“Bullshit! You pointed a gun at my head and made me hand over everything I had. That money was gonna pay for my house for the next month! I’d still be living there if it weren’t for you!” 

Anger courses through you and you want to hit this man. The dark haired man, Dutch you think Uncle called him, looks at the man. 

“Is this true, Arthur?” 

“Well, sure I robbed a gal down in Blackwater. She was sassin’ me, so I robbed her.”

“I lost everything. Everything because of you!” 

“All you had was fifty bucks, hardly anything.” 

“That was my month’s payment on my house! Then the goddamn town went into lockdown and I couldn’t make money, so the bank took my house back! Way I see it, you owe me, buddy!” 

You’re shaking and quite a few people in the gang have gathered, drawn to your yelling. 

“Wait, explain the situation in Blackwater,” the gray haired man asks. You tell him. Dutch and the man trade almost remorseful looks. You stand there, waiting for them to tell you to get lost. Instead, Dutch turns to the man he addressed as Arthur. 

“You heard her, son. We owe her. Miss Grimshaw? Please show her a place to stay. What’s your name, girl?” 

You’re shocked by this turn of events, but you tell him. A middle aged woman with a stern face comes over. She gestures for you to come over to her and then she puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“Come along, dear. We can get you settled. Sounds like you’ve had quite the ordeal.” 

She doesn’t ask you for further details nor does she explain anything about her gang. She just shows you to a spot under a canvas where three other girls sleep. They pull out a bedroll and spread it, allowing you to lie down. When you do, you realize how exhausted you are. Despite all the things that have happened, you fall quickly to sleep.

*********************************************

The next few days are a confusing blur. Most of the members are curious, especially when they hear that you lived in Blackwater and had an unfortunate run in with Arthur, who you’re still convinced is the one who sent you on this downward spiral. 

Grimshaw explains that this gang cannot carry people who don’t work (which is odd because you haven’t seen Uncle do a thing besides drink and play his banjo), so she sets you to work at a wagon run by a man named Pearson, the camp cook. As you set down to chopping vegetables, Arthur walks over, looking sheepish. 

“Um, ma’am, I uh I wanted to apologize. For robbin’ you. Guess… guess I been robbin’ folk so long it just comes natural.” 

“I heard Dutch sayin’ you folks only rob from the rich in order to help the poor. I was never a rich woman, Mr. Morgan.” 

He lowers his head. “I know. I figured since you was in Blackwater you had money to spare. I’m sorry. I know that if I hadn’t taken your money, you’d probably still have a home. You wouldn’t be in this mess. But I got you this. I know it won’t get you your house back, but maybe it can help somehow.” 

He hands you a wad of cash. After counting it, you find it’s well over sixty dollars. You look up at him. “You’re right, it won’t get me my life back, Arthur. But I appreciate the gesture.” 

He swallows a bit. “Well, I just wanted to let you know, you’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you want. I’m gonna vouch for ya, I at least owe you that. And if there’s anything else you need, let me know.” 

You thank him and he walks away. You feel a great weight lift from your shoulders. Your crimes from the other night won’t be erased, but at least you’re not having to be alone to deal with it. You have the possibility of making friends here with this gang out outlaws. After all, you are one yourself it seems. You suddenly wonder where your life might lead now that you’ve started down this path. 

[thewatermelloncat]

Unimaginable Things   (Part 1)

Summary: The Hargreaves siblings have never really gotten along, but now they need to more than ever with the apocalypse looming. And with Five’s immune system compromised from time travel, hopefully they can come together to help him because if they can’t, what chance do they have of standing together against their impending doom?

Author’s Note: I wrote this fanfiction over a year ago now, but I wanted to post something Umbrella Academy related after just finishing Season 2, though I’m still waiting for inspiration to strike. I thought this might do nicely in the meantime as a bit of nostalgia, going back to the days I only specialised in sicifcs. How far we’ve come…

Warnings: This loosely follows the storyline of SEASON 1, so it contains SPOILERS for around EPISODE 3.

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Hours upon hours of watching and waiting for any sign of life to disappear into MeriTech is starting to wear on him. Five arches his shoulders in an attempt to crack the stiffness out of his back then settles back down into the driver’s seat, bracing his elbow on the door below the window. He pulls his wrist up to sniffle wetly into his sleeve and grimaces as he swallows at the ache in his throat. Now is really not the time to be getting sick, he knows that.

He also knows that the headache he is sporting now isn’t only brought on by the time travel. It hurt to hold his eyes up straight ahead, so he settles for leaning his head back against the window feeling the cool glass on his skin and allowing his gaze the flow under his dark lashes.

Beginning to zone out and almost tipping towards the threat of sleep, he observes as a group of kids his age, well he would appear to be their age, walk in front of the van. He hates to admit it, he has a far greater purpose than partaking in immature and juvenile activities, but he is jealous that he missed out on the rest of his childhood. Well his childhood in general.

Pain spikes in his head and he draws his eyes away, closing them tightly. When he opens them again, he can no longer see the street. Buildings had toppled over, their rubble spilling over the roads and pavements. Fires around him intensify the heat of his fever. That must be it, he couldn’t be back. It must be some kind of fever dream - but he didn’t think he was that sick.

Maybe the Handler found him a brought him back here as a punishment for escaping her. He turns around his breath grating rapidly through his chest in panic, but he can’t see her, he can’t see anyone. Panic consumes him and he starts to yell something out before a faint voice calls something to him, drawing him back.

Gasping in a breath, the smoke of the apocalypse clears away. “Five?” he turns to Luther calling his name from outside, knocking on the door. He withdraws his gaze and looks straight ahead, trying to compose himself as his brother struggles to fit into the car.

“You okay?” Luther asks, leaning back in the too small seat.

“You shouldn’t be here” Five snarls. He needed to be alone for this. “How did you find me?”

Five follows Luther’s eyes to the rear-view mirror seeing Klaus’s reflection dancing in the back of the van with Delores. “Hey guys a little privacy, we’re already hitting it off back here” Klaus whines before dodging the empty coffee cup Five throws at him.

“Get out! You can’t be here, I’m in the middle of something!” he wouldn’t have missed if his head didn’t hurt so badly.

Klaus ignores him as he comes up to kneel behind his brothers. “Any luck finding your one-eyed man?”

“What’s he talking about?” Luther interrupts shooting Five a confused look.

“Doesn’t matter it’s Klaus” Five dismisses. “What do you want Luther?”

“Uh, so Grace may have had something to do with Dad’s death. So, I need you to come back to the Academy” Luther explains. “It’s important.”

“It’s important” Five repeats in a mocking tone, “you have no concept of what’s important.”

He zones out looking out through the window at passing cars thinking about how inconvenient this situation is. It’s only when Luther mentions that Klaus should leave the van that he returns to the conversation. “Luther’s got a point you can get out” he affirms much to his brother’s annoyance.

“Fine!” Klaus shouts as he slams the door and wonders off.

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“What are you up to Five?” Luther demands looking back to his brother in the driver’s seat.

“Believe me you wouldn’t understand” Five discards quickly.

“Try me. Last time I checked I was still the leader of this family.”

“Well last time I checked, I’m 28 years older than you” Five defends, allowing a patronising tone seep into his voice.

“You know what your problem is?” Luther lowers his voice.

“I’m really hoping you’ll tell me” Five says his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You think you’re better than us. You always have. Even when we were kids.” The pauses between Luther’s sentences put Five on edge. “But the truth is you’re just as messed up as the rest of us. We’re all you have. And you know it.”

“I don’t think I’m better than you are, I know I am.”

Luther huffs and smiles shaking his head to himself.

If only he could see the things Five has done, then he’d understand. “I’ve done unimaginable things, things that you couldn’t even comprehend.”

“Right” Luther passes over.

“Just to get back and save you all” Five finishes in time for Klaus to run out of the store arms full of his stolen goods.

“Hey bitches!” he yells at them as he runs across the street.

“I’m starting to wonder if that was the wisest decision” Five wants to blame it on him not feeling well, but he knew even then he and Luther should have known it was a terrible idea to leave Klaus unsupervised.

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The boots Allison wore echo every step as she paces throughout the lounge. She hadn’t expected a quick trip, especially not with Klaus involved, but she had thought that they’d have brought Five back sooner.

She sighs in relief when she hears the main door open and a group of footsteps make their way through the hallway. Hurrying out under the archway she makes her way towards the base of the stairs to greet them.

“HaRIsshoo!” a harsh sneeze sounds from around the corner where she can’t see.

“Bless you” she condemns as Luther steps into view.

“That wasn’t me” he dismisses as Five appears from behind him, nose still buried in the crook of his arm.

Allison draws her head back, eyebrows lifting in surprise. Thinking, how could a sound so strong come from something so small? Then she has to remind herself that he isn’t actually 13 anymore. But he looks so small now with his reddish nose and unnaturally slumped posture. Luther catches her looking at Five in concern and returns her with a knowing look of his own.

“Everyone else is in the lounge” she says without thinking, her eyes still looking into Luther’s. She’s vaguely aware of Klaus muttering that he needs a drink and brushing past them toward the bar.

“I’m going upstairs to do more calculations” Five mumbles, not looking at either of the glances his brother and sister give him, before heading slowly up the stairs.

Allison looks back at Luther as he watches Five disappear. By the way he doesn’t object to his leaving she assumes he doesn’t mind his sudden absence. Knowing that Five isn’t keen on attending the meeting anyway, Luther figures that it’s probably best to leave him alone considering he’s getting sick. He could be irritable even when he was healthy.

Part 2

[boywizardscanbecute]

Inseparable Part IV

Hey guys here’s a present for yall! Part 4/5 of Inseparable!!! I’m a sucker for Harry Potter x Reader and long fics so those of you that know me know I had to write this. Enjoy!!! Part 5 I hope to finish in the next month. Let me know if you have any requests or want to be tagged in future stories! 

LOVE YOU GUYS 

Find parts I-III Here: https://boywizardscanbecute.tumblr.com/post/619112671437111297/inseparable-parts-i-iii

Part IV

Dumbledore arrived at 9 am sharply. “Good morning professor,” you say cheerily. He smiles with a twinkle in his eye, “And a good morning to you too Ms. l/n. Tell me, are you ready to depart?” You nod. Dumbledore offers an arm to each of you, but before disapparating he adds, “Y/n you will be going to the burrow. Harry, I have someone I would like you to meet first. Then you will join her at the burrow.” Harry nods, and then looks to you. Dumbledore, averts his gaze. The man was one of the brightest wizards known to live, he surely felt the chemistry between the two of you. Nevertheless, you keep things low key. “Harry,” you squeeze his hand, “Please be careful.” He nods, and plants a swift kiss on top of your head. When you’re finished, Dumbledore takes each of your hands and disapparates. When you reappear, you stand alone in the Weasley’s kitchen. Dumbledore and Harry gone. 

You’re only left to your thoughts for a single moment before a smiling figure welcomes you into their arms. “Y/n darling! Dumbledore told me you’d be coming today. Your trunk already arrived along with Harry’s trunk and Hedwig. Almost time for a spot of breakfast make yourself comfortable dear,” Mrs. Weasley fawns over you. Instead of busying herself in the kitchen however, she sits across from you. And you could sense what she was about to ask. “Are you okay dear? Ron told me about everything. I know you’re the only one Harry will talk to, but I don’t want you to feel burdened.” You feel a rush of gratitude at her concern. Faking a smile you respond, “I’ll be okay Mrs. Weasley. Harry needs me and I need to be there for him.” She reaches across the table, grabbing your hand. “Y/n,” she urges, “You are just a child. It’s not fair for you to take on being someone’s emotional guardian like that.” A response forms on your lips, “But Mrs. Weasley, wouldn’t you do the same for Mr. Weasley?” She smiles, “Of course I would dear, but he’s my husband. You’re still so young.” She did have a point. But Harry wasn’t just anyone. “Yes he is Mrs. Weasley. And to be completely honest with you I feel the same future approaching for Harry and I. No one makes me happier than him and I really couldn’t imagine my life without him,” you beam. She returns your look, “Inspired words. I just want you to be safe.” Squeezing Mrs. Weasley’s hand you reply, “Always will be.” Then she busies herself cleaning and cooking. As soon as you befriended Ron, Mrs. Weasley became the mother in your life. And you would do anything for her. You were lucky she thought of you as her child. 

Pacing around the living room, you waited for Harry to return from wherever he was going with Dumbledore. You knew Dumbledore would protect him but it didn’t stop the worry you felt. It is still very early in the morning, Ron was sleeping upstairs. Instead it was Ginny who came down the stairs. “Alright there y/n?” she called out to you. Turning, you plaster a fake grin on your lips. “Fine Ginny, just waiting for Harry to get here.” She saw through your fake smile, but decided not to press the issue. She continued to wander into the kitchen. It’d been nearly 2 hours since you got here. You decide to distract yourself with food when you hear a loud crack from outside. The unmistakable sound of apparating. Sprinting out the door, you see Harry standing in the grass. “Harry!” you shriek. His arms don’t have time to catch you and he topples over as your body crashes into his, the air rushing out of his chest. Lifting yourself off of him slightly, you look down and study him. “Are you okay?” you giggle. He grunts, “Yea just surprised at being knocked over.” Immediately you get off of him and help him up. There’s a call for breakfast from inside and you’re about to go in, but decide to follow your impulses. Turning around, you cup Harry’s cheek and give him a long, lingering kiss. When you pull back, he stands there stunned into silence. “Come on,” you laugh. Taking his hand, you drag him back into the Weasley kitchen where a delicious breakfast awaits. 

Summer at the Weasley’s was the most relaxed you’d felt in ages. Today you’d decided to go to Fred and George’s joke shop along with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The shop was a marvel, a beacon of light in the now dimly lit shops of Diagon Alley. Fred and George had really found their calling. The day was fantastic, that is until Harry caught sight of a familiar platinum blonde haired boy headed for Diagon Alley. Harry burst out the door after him. “Harry where are you going?” you call after him. Ron and Hermione look to you. You shake your head, not knowing where Harry was going, but you follow him, with Ron and Hermione on your tail. Harry watched Draco turn the corner and made a decision. He began to scale the building across from Fred and George’s, climbing onto the roof. “Harry Potter you get down from there! You’re going to hurt yourself!” Hermione and you both yell at the same time. But he doesn’t listen. “Merlin’s beard,” you curse under your breath. Grabbing hold of the gutter, you climb up following him. “Hang on, he doesn’t answer so you’re just going to follow him?” Ron asks bewilderedly. Ignoring him, you lay yourself next to Harry on the roof and follow his gaze. “Harry, what are we looking for,” you hiss. Not taking his eyes off Draco in Bourgon and Burke’s he replies, “Malfoy looks an awful lot like someone who doesn’t want to be followed. And now he’s in there, see he’s talking to his mother and Bellatrix Lestrange.” You gasp, Bellatrix Lestrange did indeed stand in plain sight in the main attraction of Knockturn Alley. Soon Hermione and Ron crawled up next to you. “What do you think they’re talking about?” Ron asks, already knowing why Harry was watching them. “Dunno,” Harry replies, “But they seem pretty interested in that cabinet.” Hermione squints at said cabinet. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she murmurs. If Hermione hadn’t heard of it, that meant it had to be rare. So the four of you watched Draco’s interaction until he left. It was hard to pull Harry away. “Harry, come on. There’s nothing else happening,” you pull his arm. Reluctantly, he goes. Meeting back in the shop, you return to the burrow with your friends and an extremely agitated Harry. 

Today was no different. The Hogwarts Express chugged along the countryside and Harry sat next to you, aggressively chewing on his finger nails. “I’ve got to do something. I’ll be back,” he suddenly rose and left the compartment without a second glance. Ron looks at you. “Don’t look at me,” you say aloud, “He’s been acting weird all morning.” “But why?” Hermione asks. You groan, “I’m not sure. But I have a hunch.” Hermione doesn’t inquire further. 

Around lunchtime Luna and Ginny join you in the compartment. It somewhat takes your mind off of your missing best friend. But as the sky grows dim and you get closer to the castle, you shift in your seat. Pulling into the platform Hermione announces hopefully, “Maybe Harry’s already gotten off of the train.” You return her smile, “Maybe. But I’m gonna hang back just to make sure. See you guys at dinner.” They reluctantly nod. Ginny follows and it’s Luna who announces, “I’ll keep you company and help you look.” “Thanks Luna,” you reply thoughtfully Once everyone exits the train you begin to walk the aisle. “Harry?” you call tentatively. No answer. Luna slips into the other cart and continues searching. “Harry? Are you here?” you call out again. Silence echoes around you. Another minute of searching and a sing song voice calls from the next car over, “I’ve found him!” You rush towards Luna’s voice. She stands over Harry laying in the middle of the aisle with a clearly broken nose. “Oh Harry,” you sigh once you realize he isn’t seriously harmed. You and Luna each take a hand and pull him to his feet. Walking out onto the platform Luna briefly stops, stepping in front of Harry. “I can fix that for you,” she states. “That’d be great thank you Luna,” he replies, lowering his sleeve from his bleeding nose. Raising her wand Luna exclaims, “Episky.” Bones crunch as Harry’s nose is put back in place. The three of you stroll back towards the castle, forced to walk as all then carriages are gone. 

Dinner’s halfway over when the three of you arrive. Luna departs for the Ravenclaw table and you and Harry slide in by Ron and Hermione. “What happened?” Hermione gasps, gesturing to Harry’s bleeding nose. “Later Hermione,” Harry hisses, focusing on Dumbledore’s speech. You softly readjust the cloth he holds against his nose before turning to the front as well. “Even now, as we speak, dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle. They attempt to infiltrate your mind and you must ask yourselves, will you be the one to deliver your peers to darkness. The answer is hopefully no.” The speech was bleak, and it struck a chord with Harry. He was sure now more than ever that Draco was working with other followers of Voldemort. “We have a staffing change as well. I’d like to welcome Professor Horace Slughorn who will reprise his role as potions master. Professor Snape will begin Defense Against the Dark Arts.” It takes you a second to register said statement. “Wait what?” you ask incredulously. Harry answers, “That’s the man that Dumbledore took me to meet before we went to the Burrow. He wants me to get to know him, get close to him.” “Why?” you hiss. Harry just shakes his head responding, “Dunno.” When dinner’s over, you and your friends trail back up to Gryffindor tower. And before you sleep you ask Harry, “Harry I want you to promise me something okay?” He looks up at you from his spot on the couch. “Promise me you won’t impulsively go after Malfoy,” you state. Harry immediately frowns but you continue, “Harry, if he really is one of them now, then they could easily be at his side. Please don’t do anything impulsive, I need you to be safe Harry.” In response to your plee, Harry stands and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “I promise,” he whispers. Satisfied, you return his kiss and skip off to bed. 

The next day was Quidditch tryouts. After Umbridge left Harry was reinstated and became captain. He kept you and Cormack on as beaters, Ginny as a chaser. There was one open spot, for keeper. Competition was fierce but in the end, it’s Ron who gets the position, to a very satisfied Hermione. That night you sat by the fire, comparing schedules. “Why aren’t you taking potions?” you ask Harry and Ron. Harry answers, “I don’t have the scores to become auror anyways so I may as well not take it.” You purse your lips considering his statement. Turning towards the fire, you realize how late it is. “Well, we best get some rest before classes tomorrow. Goodnight everyone,” you tell them. Harry walks you to the stairs like normal. “Goodnight Harry,” you tell him between kisses. “Goodnight beautiful,” he responds, causing a blush to creep to your nose. Harry laughs and sends you up the stairs. 

The next day was a whirlwind as you rushed from class to class. And as you stood listening to Professor Slughorn drone on about potions you’re surprised to see Harry and Ron enter the dungeons. “Ah, Harry my boy what brings you here?” Slughorn beams. Harry replies, “Well sir, Ron and I have added potions to our schedule sir. But we don’t have the book.” Slughorn, turning back to his notes says, “Very well, check the back cupboard for any extra books and find a seat.” Harry nods. Another moment later and Harry and Ron settle into your table. You raise your eyebrows at him. He mouths back ‘McGonagall’s orders.’ You smile, having had a feeling this would happen. When Slughorn announces that you’ll be brewing draught of living death on your own, you feel Hermione tense beside you. You laugh until you hear what the prize for the best one is. A vial of Felix Felicis. “Liquid luck,” you gasp. Hermione stares longingly at the prize and you join her gaze. “And Begin! Goodluck!” Slughorn proclaims. 

Half an hour later you wipe your forehead across your arm, sweat dripping down your face. “Why is this so hard,” you curse under your breath. Hermione had an equally difficult time, which comforted you a little bit. Trying to slice open a lobalog you growl as it shoots across the room out from under your knife. “Bloody hell,” you shot, eliciting a few dirty looks. Harry laughs at you. Turning to shoot him a fake glare, it’s then that you notice how well Harry is doing. Walking over to him you tug on his hand. He turns to look at you. “How are you doing this so well?” you moan in annoyance. Harry laughs and lets go of your hand turning to your textbook. “There’s notes in here,” he says, “I’ve just been following them.” Your eyes widen in jealousy. “Do share my dear,” you gently tease him. He shrugs, “Well for instance, try crushing the lobalogs against the blade instead of cutting them.” “Well okay,” you reply, returning to your station. Lo and behold, the crushing works and you smile in satisfaction. Hermione is in complete panic mode now, her hair blowing up in the steam. Dripping the juice into your cauldron she gasps, “How did you do that?” Shrugging you tell her, “I just crushed them instead of slicing them.” She shakes her head, “But that’s not in the directions.” Grinning you turn back to your work replying, “But it worked didn’t it?” She huffs in annoyance and continues trying to slice the bugs. Leave it to Hermione to insist on doing things by the book. 

When everyone is finished, Professor Slughorn parades around the room testing each potion. “I can tell this class will need some work,” he comments. Finally reaching your station he tests Ron’s and tuts, “Pitiful,” to which Ron profusely blushes. Hermione’s is next and he smiles saying, “Well done Ms. Granger.” She beams with pride. When he tests yours his face grows with excitement, “Even better Ms. l/n.” You couldn’t help but grin despite Hermione’s frustration next to you. But in the end it’s Harry’s that wins. “This is fantastic my boy! Absolutely Splendid! One bottle of Felix Felicis for you!” Slughorn hands the bottle over. Harry smiles and flashes a wink at you. Hermione looks torn between jealousy and curiosity and Ron looks longingly at the bottle. Exiting the dungeons you whisper to Harry, “I do hope you’ll share that book a little more.” Harry chuckles and takes your hand, walking towards the Great Hall for lunch. 

The first weekend after classes was your first Quidditch match. And unlucky for you it was against Slytherin. By the end of the week Ron was falling apart from nerves. “Ron are you okay?” you tap his shoulder. He jumps nearly a mile. “What? Oh sorry I was just thinking about the match tomorrow,” he replies. “Ron you’re gonna do fine,” Hermione reassures him. He gulps, “I’m not so sure ‘Mione.” He studies the fire in the common room, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “You should get some sleep Ron,” Ginny pushes him up from the couch. “I’m sure I’ll sleep, and not spend the whole night worrying about tomorrow,” he groans, traipsing up the steps. Ginny and Hermione follow. “We should get some sleep too,” you pull Harry up from the couch. “Meet you down here at 7 tomorrow?” he asks you. “Of course,” you tell him. Reaching the stairs to the girls dormitory you stop and turn to him. “Are you nervous for tomorrow?” you ask him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a hug. He murmurs into your hair, “For me? No. For Ron? Yes. But I have an idea on how to fix that.” Pulling away from the hug you catch the mischievous glint in his eye. “Harry James Potter what are you planning on doing?” you fake scold him. He laughs, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” You push a finger into his chest and he backs against the window. “I know when you’re lying Harry,” you tell him. He grabs the wrist of the hand poking at his chest and kisses you deeply, pulling you into him. It’s all too easy to give into his touch and you let him run his hands across your back as you wind your own through his hair. Breathlessly he pulls away when he runs out of breath, with a goofy grin plastered on his face. You shake your head at his smile, He goes to kiss you again but you turn your head saying, “No kisses for you until you tell me this plan.” Harry groans, still reaching for your lips. Finally he sighs, “You’re too hard to resist.” Grinning at your victory, you turn towards him and wait for his explanation. He continues, “I was thinking of faking putting the Felix Felicis in Ron’s morning juice. I already asked Luna to come over and comment on the ‘tonic’ I put in his juice. If he thinks I gave him it, then I bet anything he’ll be at the top of his game.” Your jaw drops in surprise. “Harry that’s brilliant!” you squeal in delight. He laughs, “Well I’m glad you think so.” The clock chimes midnight and Harry frowns in frustration. “You should get to bed,” he tells you. Nodding, you plant one last lingering kiss on his lips and bound up the stairs, his eyes watching your backside as you go. Harry sighs in contentment and goes to bed himself. 

The next morning you wait for Ron and Hermione to arrive at breakfast, as you already sat with Harry and Luna. When Ron does sit you urge him to eat. He looks like a ghost. “Some juice then? Come on drink up Ron?” Harry pushes the cup forward. As planned Luna comments, “Is that why you put a tonic in there?” Ron looks to Harry in confusion. Again as planned, Harry hastily moves the bottle of Felix Felicis from the table. It’s Hermione who speaks up, “Harry you can’t do that! It’s illegal.” Harry shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hermione groans in frustration at Harry. Turning to Ron she begs, “Don’t drink it Ron. You don’t want your first victory to be won unfairly.” Ron considers her statement for a brief moment before downing the juice. Hermione frowns in disappointment. “Come on Harry, y/n. We’ve got a match to win,” he strides towards the field with newfound confidence. You follow your teammates with a hint of guilt in your chest at lying to Hermione. Harry, being your closest confidant, notices you’re feeling guilty. “She’ll find out soon enough, no harm done. I promise,” he tells you. Taking your hand, he leads you to the changing rooms. 

Nearly every single student showed up for the match, the crowds were massive. After a somewhat motivating speech from Harry, you emerged from the changing rooms. Before you let him go and focus you kiss him on the cheek and say, “Goodluck darling.” He smiles and struts away. Following his figure, you focus all your thoughts on beating Slytherin. 

As soon as Madam Hooch blew her whistle it was evident how much the Slytherin’s wanted to win. Due to the fact that they were likely to play dirty, you had to dash around the field, batting every bludger in their way. One Slytherin made their way through your defense and went to score. Miraculously, Ron blocks the Quaffle, kicking it right into Ginny’s arms. “YEAH!” you pumped your fist in the air. Refocusing, you search for the next bludger. Headed for Ginny with the quaffle, you dived in front of the bludger, wacking it towards a Slytherin chaser with all your strength. Knowing this move, GInny simultaneously dips lower, continuing on with the quaffle. The team was incredibly in sync. Another ten minutes pass and you spot the snitch. A red blur quickly follows it and you knew Harry saw it. Problem was, so did Malfoy. Racing towards Malfoy, you search around for any bludger to hit. The answer comes in the form of a heavy object slamming into the back of your arm. Gritting your teeth, you watch the bludger fly past you. Ignoring the pulsing in your left arm you position yourself behind the bludger and blasted it in Malfoy’s direction. His hand reached out for the snitch and you watched with bated breath. The bludger made contact with the back of his shoulders, effectively knocking him out of the way. With Malfoy gone, Harry closes his fist around the snitch in victory. He sails towards the ground, jumping off his broom. The whole team follows and the seven of you dog pile on top of Harry. The stands erupted in cheers and the Slytherin’s quickly retreated in defeat. 

That night in the common room a party was thrown to celebrate the victory. Tons of firewhiskey was brought in, music blasting through a speaker. When Ron entered he was immediately lifted onto people’s shoulders. The amount of saves he brought for the team was nothing short of amazing. Hermione scowled. You and Harry walked up to her, ready to explain what really happened. Wordlessly, Harry pulled the vial out and showed it to her. She gasps, “You didn’t really put it in. He only thought you did.” Harry nods. “Sorry we didn’t tell you before,” you add. “It’s perfectly alright I…” Her voice trails off, her expression immediately changing to disgust. You and Harry followed her gaze and see Ron Weasley passionately kissing Lavender Brown. “Oh no. That’s not good,” you mumble. Harry stares on, stunned into silence. You turn to talk to Hermione, but she’s gone. “Harry,” you nudge him out of his daze. “Hermione’s gone,” you tell him. His face falls, “Oh no. She must be heartbroken.” You nod your head. “I’m going to go find her and talk to her. I’ll catch you later,” you press a fleeting kiss on his cheek and leave Gryffindor tower, searching for Hermione. 

20 minutes later you find her in her favorite stairwell, the sniffles floating up to your ears. “Oh Hermione,” you sigh, filled with sympathy. You silently sit down next to her and place an arm around her. She sobs loudly. “I’m so sorry,” you tell her. She cries into your shoulder, soaking your shirt. Eventually, her cries slow and she shakes softly. “How did you do it?” “Do what ‘Mione?” you ask. She sniffles, “Watch Harry be with someone else. Last year with Cho.” You sigh, pondering her question. Eventually you answer, “It was hard. Really hard actually. Some days I didn’t want to leave the room. But I had to be strong.” She nods. “Ron’s an idiot,” you comment. She laughs. Minutes pass and she fiddles with her wand, conjuring tiny songbirds that circle the two of you. Soon giggles round the corner and a cheery Ron and Lavender pause at the sight of the two of you. Ron glances up, “What’s with the birds?” he asks. Lavender coos, “Come on Ron, I think this stairwell is taken.” She leaves but Ron stares at you comforting your friend. Hermione’s face hardens and she flicks her wand, sending the birds after him. With a look of horror and confusion, he turns and runs away. Then her cries return. “Hermione you know you don’t need him right?” you tell her. She doesn’t answer. You continue, “You’re the smartest person I know Hermione. And you’re such a pretty girl. Besides, you've got me and Ginny and Harry. We’re here for you. Come on, let’s go back.” Hermione nods and follows you back to Gryffindor tower. Sending her up the stairs to your dormitory you say, “If you need anything Hermione I’ll be in the common room for a little while.” She nods and says, “Thank you y/n. You really are my best friend.” You hug her and send her to bed. 

When Hermione is gone you walk over to the couch to find Harry talking to Ginny. “Well?” Ginny asks. You sigh, “I got her to stop crying. But she’s heartbroken.” Ginny nods, “I can’t believe my idiot brother.” Harry bites back a snort of laughter. Ginny laughs and stands up saying, “Well I think I’ll head to bed. Great match today guys.” You compliment, “You too Ginny. You must have scored at least seven times.” She shrugs as if it was nothing. Laughing, she walks up the stairs and disappears behind the door. Finally you turn to Harry and let out a long breath. “This will sure make things complicated,” Harry comments. You nod. Taking his arm, you place it around your shoulders and curl up into him, tucking your feet underneath you on the couch. Harry asks, “Are you okay y/n?” Breathing against his chest you answer, “I’m okay. It’s just Hermione asked how I had to deal with you seeing Cho. And I had to think back about that. Because even though I was with Seamus I still had such strong feelings for you and it was hard to watch you be with someone else.” “I know exactly what you mean,” Harry replies. “I wish we didn’t lose all that time,” you admit. Harry speaks softly, “I wish we didn’t either. But we’re together now. That’s all that matters.” “You’re right,” you agree with him. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you and you relish in the pure bliss of snuggling with Harry. Suddenly, a thought comes to you and you sit up looking at Harry. “Harry what are we?” you ask eagerly. He snorts with laughter, “I beg your pardon?” You continue, “I mean I know we’re together, but like are we dating? Are we boyfriend and girlfriend? That’s what I mean.” A blush creeps onto his cheeks as he considers your thought. “Well?” you elbow him playfully. He answers, “I’m not really sure what any of that means. I’ve never really dated anyone before but I would like to call you my girlfriend. You grin like a fool. “So I’m your girlfriend then?” you look up at him. He answers by kissing you, pulling you into his lap. Breathlessly he pulls away and answers, “Yes. You’re my girlfriend.” You smile and kiss him again. It felt so natural to sit in his lap. His hands roam around your lower back, leaving your skin on fire. Running your hands through his hair, you let your tongue slip in his mouth and press yourself closer to him. Boldly, Harry removes his lips from yours and begins to suck on your neck. You hiss, “Harry that feels good.” He chuckles against your skin and continues to leave love marks on your collarbone. You squirm in his lap and he pulls away saying sheepishly, “We’ll probably have to stop now.” His face was beet red. Sliding off his lap you plant a soft kiss to his cheek and whisper, “Goodnight darling.” He gulps, “Goodnight y/n.” Flopping onto your bed, you fall asleep with a goofy grin on your face. 

As potions continues throughout the term, Hermione becomes increasingly furious with how well Harry is doing. “Hermione I would let you share my book with me you know?” Harry argues with her after class. She huffs, “That’s not the point Harry. It’s that it doesn’t follow directions.” “Suit yourself,” Harry shrugs. “See you at the three broomsticks?” you ask Hermione. She shakes her head, “I suppose. But if Ron and Lavender are there I’m leaving.” “Okay Hermione,” you tell her. Looking out the window, you see a fresh layer of snow falling as you run up to Gryffindor tower to change. You decided to wear jeans with your brown combat boots and, sneaking up to Harry’s room, you throw on his Quidditch sweatshirt. Walking down the stairs into the common room, Harry raises his eyebrows at you. “I don’t think that’s yours,” he teases, snaking an arm around your waist. You feign innocence, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He laughs and kisses you on the forehead. 

You enjoyed your time at the three broomsticks, successfully managing to distract Hermione from Ron and Lavender. Tragedy struck on the walk back to the castle. One moment you were laughing with your friends and the next minute you laughed in horror as Katie Bell’s body hung in the air a package lying at her feet. “Oh my god what’s going on?” you shout, running forward. Katie’s friend tells you, “I told her not to touch it, I told her!” Confused, you watched as Katie’s body is thrown around by some unknown force. She then drops from the air. “Arresto Momento!” you yell, slowing her fall. Stepping forward, you reach for the package but are stopped by Hagrid striding forward yelling, “Do not touch that! Whatever you do don’t touch that!” Stepping back, you watch as Hagrid lifts Katie up and carries her back towards the castle. 

When you get back to the castle, you’re immediately summoned by Professor McGonagall. “Please describe what happened,” she asks you. Hermione jumps into a long winded explanation, saving you from having to say anything. When she’s done Professor McGonagall says, “Very well, you may go.” Harry however, stays glued to where he stands. “It was Malfoy,” he blurts suddenly. Both you and Hermione shoot him a look not to pursue this. “And how, may I ask, do you know that?” McGonagall questions him. “I just know,” Harry replies. “You just know?” McGonagall lets the statement hang in the air. Professor Snape comes striding into view and says something privately to Professor McGonagall. She whispers something to him. When he leaves she looks back to the three of you and says, “Please go back to Gryffindor tower.” You’re happy to oblige. 

When you get out to the hallway you tell Hermione, “Hey you go on up, I want to talk to Harry for a minute.” She nods. When she leaves, you take Harry’s hand and dragged him up to the astronomy tower. When you get there, you pause and turn around to face him. “Harry what’s with the firm belief that Malfoy is up to something?” you ask him. He crosses his arms replying, “I already expected no one else to believe me but now you too?” He looks betrayed. Sighing, you uncross his arms and hold his hands in yours. He avoids your eye contact. You place a hand on his cheek and catch his green eyes. “Harry please talk to me,” you whisper. He sighs and answers, “I just need you to believe me.” Your voice rises to a shot as you try to convince him, “Harry I do believe in you! I do!” He finally looks at you, emotion in his eyes. You continue, “Harry, if you say Draco did it I believe you. I just don’t want you to get into unnecessary trouble, you know I worry about you.” His eyes flash with sadness. “Katie could have died,” he lets the statement hang in the air. “But she didn’t,” you reply. Harry takes your hand and brings you to the edge of the astronomy tower. The two of you sit, legs dangling off the edge, and watch the sunset. Harry’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders and you lean into him, nuzzling your face into his chest. After it gets dark he says, “I wish we could just run away sometimes.” You lift your head up from his chest and study his facial features. You were only 16 but Harry looked aged, there was worry in his eyes and you couldn’t remember a time when his eyebrows weren’t furrowed in concern. “I wish we could too Harry,” you lightly kissed his cheek. After a pause he confesses, “It’s so much pressure. I’m just a teenage boy. And now the whole wizarding world is relying on me to save their asses.” You knew it was hard for Harry to admit his fears, he always wanted to wear a brave face. You gently turn Harry’s face towards your own and kiss his lips deeply. You only pull away when you run out of breath. Breathing into his face you whisper, “I’m never going to leave you Harry. I’m going to help you. You’re not alone in this.” Pressing his forehead against yours, Harry says, “I really don’t deserve you.” 

Slughorn made a big deal about the Christmas party that he would be hosting this year for his favorite students. Sitting in the common room around the fire you ask Hermione, “So who are you going to bring to the Slugclub’s christmas party?” She groans, “Ooh I don’t know. Maybe I should just go solo. Or wait, I’ll bring you!” You laugh, “Hermione, Harry is Slughorn’s crowning jewel in his collection of students, surely you don’t expect me to not go with my boyfriend?” She sighs, “God I don’t know what to do. You know who I’d really like to go with, but I can’t.” Squeezing her hand you say, “I know Hermione. It will get better.” She replies, “What I’d love to do is take the person who would piss Ron off the most.” You encourage her, “So do it then.” She pauses, “Maybe I will.” Harry comes up to the two of you and says, “What’s going on?” You tell him, “Hermione doesn’t know who to take to the Christmas party next week.” Harry sits down on the couch, pulling you into his lap and kissing you quickly before telling Hermione, “You know I happen to know someone that is dying to go with you.” Hermione’s eyes nearly pop out as she asks, “Who?” Harry laughs, “Cormack.” Hermione groans, “Now that is the last person I want to go with.” Harry agrees, “Yes, he’s quite annoying. But I know he would say yes.” “Fine,” Hermione huffs and walks over to Cormack, taking the plot into her own hands. Harry tickles your side and kisses your neck affectionately. “Harry stop,” you giggle. He chuckles and continues to tickle your sides. Finally, when your laughing dies down, Harry asks, “So what will my beautiful y/n be wearing to the party?” Kissing him on the nose you reply, “It’s a surprise.” He groans, “Don’t keep me in suspense.” “But then it’s no fun for me,” you laugh. Hermione stomps back over and says, “It’s done,” with a look of disgust on her face. 

You help Hermione get ready for the party, nervousness already spreading through you. The dress you decided to wear was a deep red, silk material, with off the shoulder sleeves that stopped right above your knees. Meeting Harry in the common room, his eyes glance over you and he lets out a low whistle. “Harry,” you blush profusely, playfully swatting his arm. “You look gorgeous,” Harry breathes. Blush travels up your neck to the tip of your nose and you mumble, “Thanks.” Harry offers you his arm and he escorts you to the party. 

Slughorn welcomes Harry with open arms and only acknowledges you as an afterthought. Once he’s thoroughly had his ear talked off, Harry returns to you side. “Care for a dance?” Harry asks you. You smile sheepishly, “Harry I’m not the best dancer.” He laughs, “And you think I am? Come on we’ll embarrass ourselves together.” So you let him drag you onto the dance floor. Harry really wasn’t the best dancer, but he had an ulterior motive; to hold you close. Wrapping your arms around his neck, his hands wind around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. You rest your head on his shoulder, The biggest smile grows across his face as he sways with you in his arms. And in that moment, Harry thought that he could never be happier than he was right now. But as was typical with his life, the happy moment was quickly interrupted. Mr. Filch entered the premises, dragging a reluctant Draco Malfoy with him. “Professor Slughorn sir, found this one gate crashing. Claims he was invited sir,” Filch simpers. Slughorn chuckles, “No harm done, no harm done.” Before he can continue, Professor Snape sweeps onto the scene and says, “I can take care of Mr. Malfoy.” His black robes sweep behind him as he drags the boy out of the party. You look to Harry, wondering what he wants to do. Your eyes travel down to his pocket as he flashes you the invisibility cloak. You nod and follow him as he slinks out into the corridor. 

“Come on, let's go. Quickly,” Harry raises the cloak and you climb underneath, standing against him. Shuffling slowly down the hallway, you and Harry stand tucked against the wall as you listen to hushed voices. “I made a vow to protect you. So I would appreciate you not getting yourself into trouble everytime I turn my back,” Snape sneers. Draco shoots back, “I was chosen for this task. I don’t need your help. He chose me. Leave me alone.” Then there’s the telltale stomping of Draco walking away. You look at Harry, who mutters, “Believe me now?” Slowly, you nod. “He’s definitely involved somehow,” you agree. Harry gulps and slowly takes you back to the Christmas party. But the rest of the night seems pointless and you watch helplessly as Harry is extremely agitated to a point of distress. 

Returning to the common room, Hermione immediately goes to take a shower, claiming she needs to scrub off Cormack’s touch. Harry plops down in an armchair and you settle comfortably in his lap. “Think we’ll ever have a night to ourselves, uninterrupted by impending doom?” you chuckle sarcastically. Harry laughs and runs a hand affectionately through your hair. “One day darling, one day,” he promises you. You study his emerald green eyes closely and see both the admiration and sadness in them at the same time. “One day,” you echo his thoughts. Harry smiles adoringly at you and you laugh, kissing him gently. Eventually, you part ways with your lover and go to bed. 

Christmas holiday came by fast and soon enough you were back at the burrow. Opening your presents, you smile at the sweater Mrs. Weasley had knit you. “Oh thank you so much Mrs. Weasley I love it!” You run around the table and hugged her. From Ron you got some broom polish, from Hermione the new edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and from Ginny you got new converse. “Thank you so much guys!” you beam at your friends around the table. And as dessert finished up, everyone scattered throughout the house, enjoying family conversation. Making yourself some hot chocolate, you sit in the windowsill, watching snow fall. 

Harry comes up from behind you, kissing the top of your head. “Hello darling,” you smile at him and patted the seat next to you. Sitting down, he smirks and pulls out a present from behind his back. “Harry you didn’t have to,” you begin but he silences you with a kiss. When he pulls away he says, “Yes I had to. Because you are life’s greatest gift to me.” Smiling cheekily you reply, “I got something for you too.” Revealing the present you got him from underneath the cushion, you push it towards him saying, “Open it.” Harry grins and begins to unwrap it. His breath stops for a moment when he sees what it is. Somehow, you’d managed to find a picture of you and Harry, age 7, smiling and lying in your aunt’s backyard, dirt all over your hands, holding them up to the camera. You’d managed to charm the picture to move and it showed you laughing and wiping dirt on Harry’s nose. It was a simple frame the picture was in, but it was the picture that mattered. His green eyes shine with emotion as he says softly, “I love it. I love it so much.” You smile, satisfied with the gift. Harry hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve and says, “Your turn,” pushing your own gift towards you. It was rather tiny and you held your breath as you opened it. “Oh Harry,” you gasp, staring at the gift. It was a simple oval shaped silver locket. But that wasn’t the special part. The special part was that you noticed this necklace in a shop window in Hogsmeade months ago. Somehow, Harry had remembered this. Opening the locket, you saw a picture of you and Harry moving. It was the two of you embracing tightly after you won a Quidditch match earlier this year. “Hermione must have taken it,” Harry shrugs, answering your question before you can ask it. “Will you put it on me?” you ask him. Harry nods and takes the necklace from you. Turning around, the hairs on your neck stood on end as Harry brushed your long locks aside, and clasped the necklace around you. 

When Lupin turns to leave, Harry stands with him at the front door, staring out across the land. “Something’s up,” you mutter to Ginny. The two of you walk towards the door behind him. Suddenly there’s a flash of black across the sky and you freeze in your spot as you hear the laugh of Bellatrix Lestrange echoing through the air. There’s a ring of fire and Bellatrix appears chanting, “I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!” You look at Ginny and mutter, “Oh no. He’ll go after her.” Sure enough, Harry sprints through the ring of fire after the death eater in a moment of anger. Without a second thought, you sprint after him, jumping over the flames. “Y/n no!” Lupin shouts after you. Ignoring it, you sprint through the tall grass after Harry. “Harry!” you scream. Sprinting further into the tall grass, you search frantically for your boyfriend. There’s a rustling in the grass a few feet behind you and you turn around scared. “Harry?” you call out shakily. There’s a low growl coming from the rustling in the leaves and you freeze, frightened. Backing up quickly, you squint your eyes into the night, searching for the source of the growls. You gasp as your feet hit wet ground, and you back up into the dredged pond. Then you nearly jump out of your skin when your back hits something solid. Turning around, you sigh in relief as you see Harry. “There’s something out there,” your voice quivers. “Don’t turn your back to anything,” he tells you. You oblige, standing back to back with Harry, wands raised, searching for death eaters. Then Fenrir Greyback comes into view, releasing that low growling sound again. “There’s that pretty one,” he grumbles in your direction. You feel Harry tense behind you and he turns around saying, “Touch her and you die.” The werewolf growls and moves closer. “Harry,” you grip his forearm, concern growing in your voice. Then there’s a bellowing behind you and Mr. Weasley shouts, “Stupefy!” The werewolf is blasted back onto the ground. He gets up, seething anger and advances towards you. A screech fills the air and he stops, looking back towards the burrow. He smiles smugly and disapparates. Looking back to the burrow, you see the entire house is on fire and collapsing in on itself. “Oh my god,” you gasp in horror. You take off sprinting towards the house, Harry following close behind. 

There was no cheering Harry up over the final days of Christmas Holiday. You knew that he completely blamed himself for what happened at the Burrow. Returning to Hogwarts, Harry is immediately whisked away by Dumbledore for another one of their special lessons. So you sat up in the common room, waiting for him. Nearing midnight, you jump in surprise as the portrait opens and it’s not Harry. Ginny shuts the portrait and leans against it, a smug smile on her face. “Ginny?” you hiss at her. She jumps in surprise. “Bloody hell y/n you frightened me,” the smile drops from her face. “Where were you?” you question. She struggles to form an excuse. Finally she confesses, “With Luna.” “At the library?” you continue. Ginny blurts out, “No. We’re dating.” “Oh,” you’re briefly surprised. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea of Ginny and Luna together grew on you. “That’s great,” you smile at her. “I’m happy for you,” you continue. She beams, “Thanks y/n. Night.” “Night Ginny,” you reply. It was almost 1 am when Harry returns. “Bloody hell Harry that took a long time,” you whisper, walking up to him. You hug him and don’t let go for at least two minutes. “Y/n,” he laughs, “What’s going on?” You pull away and say, “I don’t know. I’m just always scared that whenever you leave there’s a chance I’ll never see you again.” Harry looks at you intensely and whispers, “Do you really get scared of that?” Wordlessly you nod, looking down. He tilts your chin up and gives you a soft kiss. Trying to make you smile he says, “Not even death could take me from you.” You give him a small smile as he moves over to the armchair by the fire. You casually climb into his lap, curling up into him. “What did he say this time?” you ask. Harry sighs, “He really needs me to get that memory from Slughorn. Without it we won’t know how many horcruxes there are or any idea where the could be.” “Oh,” is all you can say. Harry audibly gulps and you reassure him, “You’ll get it Harry, I know you will.” Harry presses a kiss to your neck and mutters sleepily, “Thanks.” It wasn’t abnormal for people to find you and Harry curled up in the common room, having fallen asleep. That’s what happened tonight. 

Reconvening at dinner the next day Harry tells you of his failed attempt to get the memory. “He’s now avoiding me at all costs,” Harry groans. You gently rub his shoulders saying, “I’m sure it will be alright.” Harry laughs, “He kicked me out of his office and didn’t even acknowledge my presence in potions today.” “You’ll just have to wait it out and try again,” you tell him. “I suppose you’re right,” Harry concedes. “Always am,” you reply with a smirk. Kissing the top of his head you say, “Come on, let’s head back. Besides I haven’t seen Ron since lunch and I’m slightly worried.” “Alright,” Harry takes your hand and you walk back to Gryffindor tower. 

Entering the common room you look around and don’t see Ron. “I’ll check upstairs,” he says, bounding up the steps. You walk over to the fireplace and see Hermione entranced in her homework. “You okay ‘Mione?” you ask her. She looks up from her place on the floor and says, “What? Oh yeah I’m fine.” “Hermione it’ll get better,” you try to tell her. She groans, “I don’t know. I just wish things would go back to normal.” “I know what you mean,” you tell her. 

About to settle into your homework, Harry comes down the stairs, pulling a reluctant Ron. “What’s happening?” you walk up to them. Hermione follows, concern etched on her face. “Romilda Vane tried to slip me a love potion through some chocolates. Ron helped himself instead,” Harry grunts, pulling Ron towards the common room door. “Where are you going?” Hermione asks. Harry replies, “To Slughorn. He’ll fix this. Don’t worry, be back soon.” He flashes you a wink and then leaves, tugging Ron behind him.  

Every minute that Harry and Ron don’t return, Hermione grows even more anxious. “Hermione, I’m sure everything is fine okay? Harry had to get Ron to Slughorn’s office and you saw how loopy Ron was. It’s bound to take a little while,” you reassure her. She looks up at you and you’re surprised to see her crying. “Hermione what’s the matter?” you exclaim in worry. Wrapping your arms around her, you urge her to share. She sniffles, “I’m worried about him y/n.” You feel the utmost sympathy for her. “Hermione it’ll be okay. I promise,” you console her. She merely sobs into your shoulder. Her head pops immediately up when Harry bursts through the portrait hole, breathing tirelessly from sprinting up to the common room. “What is it?” you shoot to your feet. Harry sighs, “Ron was poisoned. He’s going to be okay, but he’s in the hospital wing. He’s gonna be there for a few days.” Harry waits for no reply, instead he turns and runs back to his friend’s side. Hermione and you sprint after him. 

Entering the hospital wing, your heart hurts to see Ron laying there, the palest you’d ever seen him. He looked ghastly. Hermione throws all caution aside and plants herself beside him, clutching one of his hands in her own. You watch on by Harry’s side. The drama only continues when Lavender comes into the room, seething at the sight before her. “What are you doing here?” she asks Hermione coolly. Hermione replies, “Ron’s my friend.” Lav scoffs, “I suppose you’re only here because he’s all interesting now.” Hermione laughs, “He’s been poisoned you daft bimbo! Besides, he wants me here I’m sure.” Lavender finds this hilarious. Ron begins to stir and Lavender smiles, expecting him to sense her presence. Instead, Ron moans out, “Her-mi-one. Her-mi-one.” You’re floored with surprise. Turning, you watch as Lavender runs from the room, sobbing endlessly. You shoot Hermione your biggest smirk and she looks away, muttering, “Shut up.” 

Ron is allowed to leave the hospital wing three days later. Harry had told you what happened. That the poisoned mead Ron drank was meant for Dumbledore. He had your suspicions and as much as you wanted to deter Harry from getting in a duel with Draco, you couldn’t help but agree with him that everything pointed towards the platinum haired Slytherin. Sighing, you sit down next to Harry in the common room, as he pours over his potions book. Gently taking it from his hands, you say softly, “Harry. It’s time to get that memory from Slughorn.” “How?” he asks you exasperated. “With a little help from Felix?” you offer the suggestion casually. He grins, “That’s brilliant! You’re brilliant y/n.” He plants a kiss to your forehead and runs up the stairs to his room. When he returns, he holds the vial tightly in his palm. Ron and Hermione approach the two of you. “What are you gonna do with that mate?” Ron asks him, gesturing to the vial. Harry responds, “It’s time for me to get that memory from Slughorn. Dumbledore says it’s the key to figuring out how to defeat Voldemort.” Ron nods. Harry looks from you, to Ron and Hermione. “Go on,” you encourage him. He downs the potion in one swallow. As he finishes the potion, a grin spreads widely across his face. Hermione tells him, “Right. Slughorn usually takes supper in his office, and then goes for a nightly walk. You’ll be able to find him I’m sure.” Harry stares at her and replies, “Right. I’m going to Hagrid’s.” He begins to walk towards the portrait hole. “Harry, wait what?” you call after him. He turns around to you and goes all doey eyed. “My beautiful y/n,” he walks over to you and cups your face gently. You suppress a laugh. It appears that Felix Felicis had the same effect as too much alcohol. “Harry you’ve got to find Slughorn,” you urge him, removing his hands from your cheeks. “I’ve got the feeling though that Hagrid’s is the place to be,” he argues. He turns to exit again. “Harry, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you ask desperately. He smiles, “No. But Felix does. I’ll see you guys later.” He exits Gryffindor common room. “I have a very bad feeling about this,” you groan, sitting next to Hermione. She laughs, “He did seem a bit drunk didn’t he?” Ron agrees, “Seemed bloody wasted more like it.” Eventually Ron and Hermione head to bed and you wait up for Harry, tapping your leg restlessly against the floor. 

The portrait hole opens at around midnight. “Harry!” you call out his name breathlessly. Shortcutting it, you step over the top of the couch, jumping into the green eyed boys arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. He catches you and holds you in his arms, his hands tucking underneath you to support your body. “Did you get it?” you ask him desperately. He grins, “I got it. Brought it to Dumbledore and saw it. He says he thinks he knows where one is. That we might go and get it soon.” Harry carries you over to the couch and sits down with you in his lap. “What did it say?” you ask about the memory. Harry’s eyes study you carefully. He confesses, “Slughorn’s the one that told him about the horcruxes. He split his soul into seven pieces. Seven.” You gulp nervously. Harry continues, “The diary from second year was one. The ring was another. But like I said, Dumbledore thinks he knows where the next one is.” “What a relief,” you sigh. Harry rubs your back affectionately and admits, “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of how excited you always are to see me.” You respond, “I’ll always be excited to see you.” Harry gives you one last fleeting look before smashing his lips on yours. His hands roam across your waist and you tangle your own in his messy black hair. You can feel the passion rising in your chest and you desperately cling to him. Harry breathes heavily, his lips moving to your neck. “Harry,” you sigh breathlessly. He continues showering you with affection. Harry kisses you with a desperation you’d never felt from him before. His fingers dug into your skin, as if he was scared you might disappear from his grasp. “Harry wait,” you gasp, reluctantly pulling away from his lips. “What is it?” he asks you, concern etched in his eyes. “When you go to find this, this horcrux, promise me you’ll be careful okay? Promise me,” you plead with him. Harry looks at you and responds, “Of course I’ll be careful y/n. Why are you so worried about me lately? I mean besides the inevitable.” You gulp and avoid his gaze. “Y/n what is it?” he implores you. A tear comes to your eyes and you look up at his beautiful emerald green ones. “Harry I always worry about you. I’ve never stopped. As much as you may want me not to, I will always worry for you. Because I love you Harry. I do, I love you.” Harry sucks in a sharp breath and searches your gaze. In his heart, he wonders if this is really happening. The words slip from his mouth, “I love you y/n. I always have. Always will. My heart has always belonged to you.” You brush away a stray hair of Harry’s bangs. “I never thought we’d get this,” you admit. Harry sighs, “Me neither. I always thought the timing wouldn’t line up. But here we are, and I can’t believe how lucky I am.” Grinning wildly, you rest your head on Harry’s shoulders. “I love you Harry,” you whisper into the night. “I love you too y/n,” he repeats. Waiting up for Harry that night was the best decision you’ve ever made. It appears the liquid luck gave you and Harry the extra push you needed to confess your love for one another. But the next morning the luck ran out. 

You sat at breakfast beside Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Lifting cereal into your mouth, you drop your spoon as you watch who enters the great hall. “Harry look,” you nudge him, “It’s Katie. She’s out of the hospital.” Harry gasps and follows your gaze. Katie approaches the Gryffindor table quietly. Harry immediately stands and walks over to her. Worriedly, you follow him. Stopping in front of her, Harry asks quickly, “Katie, how are you feeling?” She gives him a small smile. “I’m okay Harry. Alive aren’t I? And before you ask Harry, I’m sorry. I don’t know who cursed me. I can’t remember a thing,” she tells him. Harry’s face falls and you place your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He manages a smile, saying, “I’m just glad you’re okay Katie.” She smiles in return. Looking behind you, the smile falls from her face and she stands frozen in fear. Turning slowly around, you see the platinum blonde haired boy she’s staring out. “Oh no,” you mutter under your breath. Harry’s eyes follow Katie’s gaze and they fall on Draco, anger seething from his look. Katie’s frightened look at Draco is all Harry needs to confirm his suspicions. Draco glances briefly at Harry and then Katie. Then he exits the great hall quickly. Harry races after him. “Harry wait!” you call after him. He ignores you. “Bloody hell,” you groan, running after your boyfriend. 

You skid to a halt outside the Great Hall and Harry and Malfoy are nowhere to be found. A floor above you, you hear the pounding of footsteps. “Shit,” you curse, sprinting up the steps. The footsteps came from near the bathroom. As you neared the door, your feet splashed in water on the floor. Kicking the door open, you hear curses flying and faucets breaking. “Harry!” you shout, searching for him amongst the chaos. Across the stalls on the other side of the room, you hear the sound of feet moving across the wet stone and watch helplessly as Draco tries to curse your boyfriend. “STOP!” you shriek desperately. But they were caught up in rage and no one listened to you. Harry shouts an unknown spell, “Sectum Sempra!” And Malfoy’s body is thrown back by the magic, his form coming into view. He lays beneath the sinks, and you race forward, your feet sopping wet. Coming to a stop, standing over the Slytherin boy, you gasp in surprise. Blood seeped from his body. Harry comes halting to a stop next to you. “Harry what did you do?” you breathe in horror. Harry cries, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what that spell would do.” Behind the two of you, Professor Snape comes sweeping into the bathroom, kneeling over Draco’s body. Harry stands frozen. Draco’s body begins to heal, the wounds closing up. “Harry we have to go,” you grab his hand, pulling him backwards. “Harry,” you say urgently. Shaken from his daze, Harry finally turns to you, and the two of you run hand in hand back upstairs. 

Back in Gryffindor common room, Harry explains to your two other friends what happened. “Where did you learn that spell?” Hermione asks. Harry avoids her gaze, instead looking to his potions book. “Harry you didn’t,” Hermione gasps. His silence confirms the answer. “Harry, Snape saw you in the bathroom. We need to hide this book. Whose book is it anyways?” you ask, taking the book from his grasp. “The half-blood prince. Who is the half-blood prince?” you ask curiously. Harry shrugs, “Dunno.” Rising to your feet, you pull Harry along with you. “We need to get rid of the book. No one else can learn that spell. Now,” you declare. Harry has no choice but to follow you. 

You lead Harry to the room of requirement and he breathes, “Of course. Brilliant idea.” Closing your eyes, you concentrate on what you need the room to give you. And obliging to your request, the door appears and swings open. Squeezing Harry’s hand, you both enter the room of requirement. 

Before you is a complete maze of every item that’s ever been hidden in the room before. Various noises wash over your ears and without thinking, you stash the book deep in the room, dragging Harry along beside you. When you return to Gryffindor tower, extremely out of breath, Harry falls to the couch in the common room, sighing, “Thank you. I didn’t know what to do. I was just… frozen. I didn’t know it would hurt him like that.” “I know baby, I know,” you stroke the back of his head. 

A non-stop wave of rain passes over the castle for the next week. And on the last day before your scheduled exams, Harry announces to the group that Dumbledore wants them to depart for the supposed location of the next Horcrux. Worry coursed through you and you felt your heart nearly ripped out of your chest when Harry departed with Dumbledore. 

Hours later, you stand pacing the common room. “What is taking them so long?” you blurt out at Hermione and Ron. Ron shrugs and Hermione replies, “He’s with Dumbledore y/n, I’m sure that he is safe.” And almost as if to defy her logic, there’s a loud crashing through the sky and you turn to look out the window, seeing possibly the worst thing you could have imagined. The dark mark rose high above the astronomy tower. “Harry!” you state, barely above a whisper. Before they can stop you, you race out of the common room, sprinting across the castle. 

Your lungs burned as you made your way to the astronomy tower, but a loud noise stopped you. You heard a great crashing noise near the great hall and cackles of Bellatrix Lestrange’s notorious estranged laughter. Worry rises in your throat and you detour, running towards the great hall. Skidding to a stop, you see Harry exiting the castle. “HARRY!” you shriek desperately. But he doesn’t hear you, blinded with emotion. If possible, you pump your feet even harder and try to close the distance between the two of you. Blood rushes in your ears and you barely make out the cry of Fawkes across the castle grounds. Your eyes narrow in on Harry sprinting after Snape and Bellatrix, straight towards Hagrid’s hut. With a flick of her wand, Bellatrix sets his house on fire. Cries are heard from within and the building begins to collapse. Hagrid is nowhere to be found and you realize that Fang must be in there. Without a second thought, you cover your face and sprint into the flames. Coughing loudly, you croak, “Fang!” The dog answers with a cowering whine in the corner of the hut. Flames lick at your legs, burning  the fabric into your skin, but you push onward, fueled with adrenaline, lifting the dog into your arms like a baby. Sputtering up smoke, you stumble out the door and put the dog down, who howls, racing towards the castle. In the midst of saving Fang, Harry has disappeared. His screams reach your ears near the castle, and your feet tirelessly carry your burned body towards the boy you loved. 

Your heart stopped when you discovered him. Silence rushed in your ears as Harry knelt over Dumbledore’s limp body. His cries broke you. They were worse than anything you had ever heard. The thought of Dumbledore now gone made you fear for Harry more than ever before. You drop to your knees beside the headmaster’s body, cursing this night into oblivion. Pain overtakes your body, the burns becoming too much to bear. You collapse onto your side in the grass, succumbing to unconsciousness as the smoldering of your skin finally begins to stop.

[knives-out20]

Inglourious Boyfriends - Alternate Ending - Part 2

Fandom: Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Pairing: Joshua Margolis (OC) x Lt. Aldo Raine

Word Count: 1433 (1667 With Post-Death)

Warnings: Angst, Death, Sad Aldo, TW Suicide, 

Notes: I Wanted To Post This Last Night But Tumblr Was A Bitch. Here.

Meanwhile, Aldo paced back and forth upstairs, waiting impatiently to see the soldiers and the love of his life, alive.

Donny was half-asleep on the bed at this point, sure that Joshua was able to take care of himself. He was jostled awake by a parade of various gunshots coming from the basement tavern, very easily coming from more than one gun."Shit- we gotta go check on 'em".

Aldo nodded, hands on his hips."Alright. I'll go first, Donny, you follow me. Hirschberg, stay on lookout with the others" he ordered, Hirschberg nodding obediently. Aldo gestured for Donny to follow him, making his way towards the door and opening it. He froze on the spot, hearing more gunshots- this time from a singular gun- fire at the bottom of the winding staircase.

"You, outside, who are you? British, American? What?" The unfamiliar, but terrified, voice asked, cocking his gun.

"We're American" Aldo called down in reply."What are you?".

"I'm a German, you idiot-" the voice called.

"Speak English pretty good for a German" Aldo commented, the voice calling up "I agree".

"So let’s talk" it added.

Aldo glanced to Donny, and back down the stairs."Okay, talk" he agreed, ready for a load of bullshit to be said.

"I'm a father. My baby was born today, in Frankfurt. Five hours ago. His name is Max; we were in here, drinking, celebrating, they're the ones that came in shooting and killing, it's not my fault!" He yelled.

"Okay! It wasn't yer fault" Aldo nodded, going along with him."What's yer name, soldier?".

"Wilhelm".

"Now, is there anybody alive on our side?" Aldo asked.

"No" Wilhelm shook his head.

"I'm alive!" A frantic, female voice suddenly called, sounding like she was in pain, followed by Wilhelm yelling angrily in German.

"Hammersmark" Donny breathed, barely above a whisper.

"Who's that?" Aldo asked, Wilhelm answering with another question; "is the girl on your side?"."Which girl?" He followed up, a weird feeling rising in his chest when he didn't hear Joshua's voice.

"Who do you think? Von Hammersmark" Wilhelm exclaimed.

"Yea, she's ours" Aldo sighed, Wilhelm ignoring his "is she okay?" To cuss Von Hammersmark out in German."Wilelm!" He called, to get the German soldier's attention back onto him, but he only heard Wilhelm yell at her.

"She's been shot!" Wilhelm finally complied, "but she's alive!".

Aldo thought for a moment, eyes darting around as he thought of an explanation as to why Joshua didn't call up to him. Any answer, except for one obvious one."Okay Wilhelm. What do y'say we make us a deal?".

"What's your name?" Wilhelm hesitantly asked, panting.

"Aldo" Aldo answered."Okay, Wilhelm, here's my deal; you let me and two of my men come down there and take the girl away. No guns, no guns me, no guns you! And we take the girl, and leave. It's that simple, Willie. You go yer way, we go ours. And little Max gets to grow up playing catch with his daddy. So, what do you say, Willie? We got us a deal?".

Wilhelm stayed silent for a few moments."Aldo?" He spoke up.

"I'm here, Willie".

"I want to trust you, but- but...but how can I?" Wilhelm stuttered.

Aldo glanced to Donny, then back down the stairs."What choice you got, son?" He asked, softly.

Donny put a hand on Aldo's shoulder, just as frightened that Joshua hadn't revealed himself yet.

Wilhelm took a deep breath."Okay, okay, Aldo, I'm gonna trust you. Come down".

Aldo turned to look at Donny."Stay at least a few steps behind me. I'm sure Joshy's just hiding" he whispered, staring his descent down the stairs. Aldo put his shaky hands up, slowly peaking out and looking at Wilhelm with a hopeful smile. He ducked back when he saw the gun in Wilhelm's hands."Hey, Willie, what's with the machine gun? I thought we had us a deal" Aldo complained.

"We still have a deal, now get the girl and go".

"Not so fast" Aldo showed his face for a second, "we only got a deal when we trust each other. And a Mexican standoff ain't trust".

"Whoa, whoa, you need guns on me for it to be a Mexican standoff" Wilhelm corrected.

"You got guns on us. You decide to shoot, we're dead. Up top, they got grenades. They drop 'em down here, yer dead. That's a Mexican standoff and that was not the deal" Aldo whined, pointing a finger at Wilhelm."No trust, no deal" he added.

"Wilhelm." Von Hammersmark pleaded, speaking to Wilhelm in German.

Wilhelm huffed in thought, his gun shaking in his hands as he looked down."Alright, Aldo. Fine" he gave in, standing up straight and putting the gun down on the counter."Just take the fucking traitor and and get her out of my sight" he snarled.

Aldo and Donny were about to go down the rest of the stairs, but stopped dead in their tracks when they heard a handful of gunshots.

"Oh thank fuck, that must be Joshua" Aldo let out a relieved sigh, peace washing over him.

Aldo came around and saw Von Hammersmark, shaking as she pointed a small gun at Wilhelm, who was now dead.

As was everyone else in the room, except for her.

"Woah, what the-- Josh? Joshy? Joshua Margolis, quit playin' games and come out right now!" Aldo called, looking around.

"Sir..." Donny spoke softly from behind him, gaze steady on the floor.

"Joshy? Joshua, it- it's me! C'mon out, yer safe now! Joshua?" Aldo ignored him, looking around."What the fu- JOSHUA!" He called.

"Lieutenant-".

"Quiet, Donny. Joshua!" Aldo cupped his hands around his mouth."Joshy, c'mon, dear, this isn't funny anymore!". He made the mistake of inching forward, toes of his boots softly hitting a body."What the-" Aldo arched a brow, making the second mistake of looking down at what Donny had his eyes fixed on.

On the floor in front of him, just as limp as everyone else in the room, lay Joshua Margolis’ corpse. An arm was reached out for the stairs, eyes wide open, mouth agape, like he was saying something as he died. His gun was only a foot or two away from him, by Donny's feet. Joshua was bleeding out, his blood oozing onto the tips of Aldo’s boots.

”No...” he breathed, eyes going wide.”No, no, no, no-“ Aldo repeated, getting down on one knee.”Josh. Joshy. Joshua, wake up, sweetie. Get up, Joshua, c’mon, g-get up-“ he urged, shaking the lifeless body before him.”Joshua! Getup right now, that’s an order from yer fuckin’ Lieutenant!” Aldo exclaimed, refusing to believe what was in front of his very eyes.”Joshua Margolis, get- get up, right now, y’hear me?”.

”Lieutenant-“.

”Shut UP, Donowitz!” Aldo’s voice boomed, as he continued to rattle Joshua’s body.”Joshua, baby, no, no, no. Joshy, come back to me...please, Josh, come on, we- we gotta do this together...Joshua...” Aldo stuttered, tears welling up in his eyes as they bore into Joshua’s glassy blue ones.”Joshua...” he called softly, scooping his love’s dead, bloodied body into his arms.“Joshua, baby, please...” Aldo sobbed, waterworks streaming down his face.

”A-Aldo...” Donny called.

”Sh-Shut up, Donny” Aldo hissed, holding Joshua’a body close to him.”It wasn’t supposed to end like this, it- it wasn’t supposed to” he told, now on both knees, wetting his clothes with the blood of his boyfriend.”We were supposed to defeat the Nazis together, Joshua. A- A team, a fucking team, Josh. What...What we’ve always been” he cried, tear droplets landing on Joshua’s pale face, no longer bearing the smile it always donned.“Joshua, we were supposed to end the war together...we were supposed to die together, d-dammit, Margolis you dumb righteous fuck...I should’ve said no, I should’ve said no, why didn’t I fucking say no?!” Aldo yelled, crying into Joshua’s shoulder.

Donny reached to put a hand on Aldo’s shoulder, but his Lieutenant swatted his hand away.

”I love you, Joshua, I love you, I fuckin’ love you, come back to me, baby. I love you so much, Joshua, why’d you- why’d you have to go and goddamn leave me, Margolis? We were supposed to do this with you, I- I was supposed to do this, with you fuckin’ with me, dammit, J-Joshy” he croaked, fingers curling into Josh’s uniform. Aldo slowly pulled away, pressing one, last kiss to Joshua’s cold lips.”I love you, Joshua Margolis. I’ll never fuckin’ forget you”.

*****

Donny and the other Basterds ended up dragging Aldo away from Joshua, and out the tavern. The rest of their plan went just as it had in the movie, but it was very obvious, the sudden demeanor change in the Lieutenant. He didn't speak as confidently, or with as much macho as he always had. Over the rest of the mission, he would find himself calling "Josh" "Joshy" or "Joshua" and turning, expecting to see his love, but to no avail. Though he tried to seem alright, and okay, and just fine, it was clear to the Basterds how much Aldo was struggling to keep his composure without Joshua.

Post-movie-ending, Aldo hauled his ass back to the tavern with Utivich to retrieve Joshua's body. Upon receiving it, their OSS General was able to help the three Basterds get back to America, specifically back to Maynardville, Tennessee. Aldo and Utivich held a small burial for Joshua, burying his body in the middle of the Margolis estate orchard. 

Although strictly unheard of, Aldo attempted to go on with his life, without Joshua. This was proven difficult, seeing as Josh and Aldo had planned for their lives to intertwine ever since they were kids. But one day, Aldo had enough.

On Christmas day, 1996, Lieutenant Aldo Raine committed suicide, alone in the Margolis estate orchard. He figured only then could he reunite with his beloved.

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 37 - Alya

Author’s Note: Happy St. Patrick's Day! 🍀 Today's the day that every American tells anyone who'll listen about how they're actually kind of, sort of, partially Irish, if you, like, go back far enough to their great grandmother's cousin's half-sister who married some guy who...

Alright, that's enough of teasing my country. This chapter being posted on a holiday is purely coincidental, so there's not really any mention of it in here, also it wouldn't have been relevant.

I don't know about you guys, but the state I live in is taking the self-quarantine thing pretty seriously. I hope my chapters can help you from going too stir-crazy. I have been writing and baking like crazy (and playing Plague Inc, because, come on, I can't not). Several colleges in Michigan are moving online.

Stay safe you guys! Be sure to disinfect whichever device you're reading this on if you haven't recently.

That's enough about the coronavirus. You're all here for Alya, and I'm prepared to deliver. Enjoy! 

Chapter Summary: Alya and Marinette have a very important (and long overdue) talk.

First | Previous | Next

Chloe: I heard that fake reporter was coming over to ‘apologize’ today, so here’s some stuff to really drive your point home.

 Marinette: wait where did you get those pictures

Marinette: have you had them this whole time???

 Chloe: I have my ways. Don’t question me Dupain-Cheng.

---

Adrien <3: Alya wants to know if it’s a good time for her to come over.

 Marinette: yeah

 Adrien <3: I can tell the others, we can come over.

Adrien <3: Make sure she doesn’t try anything.

 Marinette: kitty.

Marinette: she won’t try anything

Marinette: she just wants to talk i can handle myself

 Adrien <3: Of course, I know you can.

 Marinette: adrien

 Adrien <3: Anyway, she’s headed over. I’ll let the others know so we can wait in the park and glare at her. It’s the least we can do.

 Marinette: or you could go about your day as usual and not bother with needless interruptions

 Adrien <3: We were already going to hang out, now we’re just coming by earlier. You can’t run from our love and support.

 Marinette: You don’t need to do that.

 Adrien <3: I’ll make plans that have nothing to do with that then.

---

Hug This Boy: So who wants to go to the park outside of the bakery for reasons completely unrelated to the fact that Alya is coming over to talk to Marinette. It’s just a coincidence if we go to check on Marinette afterward and maybe hurt Alya if need be.

Hug This Boy: Completely unrelated. 

 Patisserie Princess: Adrien.

 Hug This Boy: It’s so fun watching the grass grow.

 Kid Mime: o absolutly

Kid Mime: its so green

 The Mom Friend: yep

 Melodie: So fascinating.

 Felix: Most definitely.

 Patisserie Princess: …

Patisserie Princess: this isn’t necessary

 Melodie: Well how else are we going to look at the grass that happens to be right outside your house?

 Kid Mime: yea mari

 Patisserie Princess: oh she’s here ive got to go

Patisserie Princess: all of you are to go about your day as usual

 Hug This Boy: Wow, the next event on my schedule is ‘watching grass grow at the park that happens to be outside of Mari’s place’.

 The Mom Friend: wat a coincdence same here

---

“Alya,” Marinette states, opening the door, “Let’s go to my room.”

She nods numbly, and the pair make their way upstairs, ignoring the glares from Tom and Sabine.

They both sit on the floor of her room, and they sit in silence for what feels like an eternity.

Alya breaks first.

“Mari- Marinette. I’m sorry. I was supposed to be a reporter and I didn’t even bother to fact check! I just believed her because I was so- so- so infatuated with her stories! She sounded so cool! She’d been everywhere and met everyone, and then… she hadn’t. It was all a lie. You were right. When the slides changed during the competition it felt like everything stopped. I couldn’t even process that everything she’d told us seemed to be a lie. Everyone apologized to you yesterday, and I should have the moment I knew the truth, but I wanted to process it first because… well I mean now I’m trying to avoid acting before thinking- Not that I’m suggesting that you made anything up, or something like that! I’m not! I just wanted to make sure I had all my thoughts in order. I’m so sorry,” Alya says hurriedly.

“You’re not wrong,” Marinette agrees, “You completely threw me out for someone you didn’t even know. The whole class hurt me, but Alya… you hurt me the most. More than Lila - sure, she tore me down enough that I was definitely in a bad place… but you?” she sighs, “Do you even- Alya, do you remember the first week of school? Do you remember Thursday? Can you just… go through it with me? How did we go from making plans to… that?”

Alya is tearing up, but nods. “I didn’t know anything was happening until I got there. Lila was sobbing hysterically, and she looked awful. A few of the class were already with her, and she said she had something to tell us, but wanted to wait for everyone. She said she’d already talked to Adrien. When everyone got there she said that she was being bullied. Regular insults, cyberbullying, attempts at isolating her, so much and it was all so awful. Afterwards, we were all obviously furious and spent at least five minutes convincing her to give us a name. All she managed was to say your name and then she started sobbing and wouldn’t speak anymore. Then class started, and you came in like everything was normal and just made me more mad, I absolutely hated you,” her voice cracks, “So when class was over we all confronted you. We thought you were lying, we thought you threw yourself down the stairs for pity points. We figured if Chloe was coming to your defense, then you must be a bully, and when you left and didn’t return we just took that as you running away. Going to start over in a new place.”

Alya is openly crying now, staying as quiet as she can.

“That’s not how I saw it. You know, to this day my memories of it are vague, and there’s like half of it I can’t remember period. I spent hours just dead, staring at nothing,” Marinette takes a shaky breath, preparing herself. That day is still the hardest part to talk or think about for her, even all these months later. “I went to school in a good mood, you know, because we’d talked for the first time in months and were making plans to hang out. Lila had been gone for a while and I figured that she wouldn’t be back and I could have more of a break. Everything seemed normal in class, I was worried about being late, especially with Adrien gone. Then class ended. You were yelling at me, maybe Nino too? I couldn’t breathe right, and I tried to leave. You grabbed my wrist and suddenly everyone was yelling, and then the door slammed. You were surprised and I twisted myself away, falling down the stairs. By then I’d realized the door slam was another person and I was scared, so I ran. Chloe and Sabrina found me in the bathroom, and from there I don’t know, but others have filled me in. Chloe brought me home and apparently took pictures. Then Maman must have had me go to my room. Chat Noir said he saw me on my balcony and I was completely unresponsive. He sent me to bed, and then it was the next day.” Somehow, Marinette manages to get through the story with minimal voice cracking and tears.

Alya makes a choked sound, more tears falling. After a moment she croaks, “Can I see the pictures?”

Marinette looks at her. “What? Why?” “I deserve it. I was the reason you fell and I need to see what I did.”

Marinette pauses. She didn’t intend to show anyone the pictures, they were obviously upsetting. She’s sitting on the counter, slumped and staring downward. She had expected her eyes to be haunted, or sad, or something like that, but they were just… empty. Nothing at all. Somehow it’s worse that way.

Her red-rimmed eyes and dried tear tracks are proof of her earlier crying.

Marinette is covered in fresh bruises, on her arms, legs, and the one on her face. She got scratches near most of them, the angry red of the skin outlining and accentuating the bruises. Her wrist is clearly sprained - swelled and bruised. Her Maman is in front of her, cleaning her up as best she can, applying bandages and putting an ice pack on the wrist.

“Are you sure? You don’t need to see them. They’re-”

Alya nods. “I deserve it.”

So Marinette turns the phone to her.

Alya covers her mouth in horror, fresh tears coming to her eyes. She won’t let herself look away. She flips through each picture repeatedly, growing more and more upset. Her expression changes momentarily, confusion to sickened understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs, “I’m so so so sorry. I never- There’s no excuse- I- I’m so sorry.”

Marinette takes the phone. Seeing the screenshots that Chloe sent, she winces. She still doesn’t like reading them, somehow the pictures of her are more bearable so she switches back to those before shutting the device off.

“Why?” Marinette asks, “What on Earth was going on that day that you thought I deserved to hear those things? I wa- n-need to know.”

Alya shakes her head. “There’s no excuse. I… I was having a bad day, and then Lila told us that Ladybug had sided with you and I j-j-just got so mad. It felt better than just wallowing in self-pity. You s-sent that text and I just u-used you as some sort of p-personal punching bag. I t-t-texted you for a while, and then Adrien, Chloe, and Sabrina showed up. I guess Sabrina grabbed my ph-phone when I was d-distracted with Chloe and deleted your contact. I sp-spe-spent the rest of the day mad at you.”

Marinette stares at a corner of her room, her voice soft. “I was at lunch. I was already having a bad day, and I had found out you deleted the Ladyblog so I was thinking about you and wondering where I went wrong and how much you guys hated me, which was honestly the usual, but moreso.” Alya barely stifles a cry. “I meant to text Allegra, but I’d taken the wrong phone to school. I made myself read each text, and it was everything I’d been t-telling myself, so that was…” Marinette looks away and takes a deep breath. “My friends found me, and somehow I got to the library. I don’t…. I don’t really remember much until I got home, and Adrien was there and I decided to tell them why I transferred.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

Marinette shakes her head. “I didn’t have you come over so we could compare events. Alya, you were my first friend, my best friend, and you just… left me. I don’t understand.” Her voice cracks.

Alya reaches toward her slightly, then remembers herself and draws back. Guilt claws at her inside, and it feels like it is coursing through her veins. “I- always thought that you had deceived us. That you had somehow faked kindness and that Lila was finally showing us the truth. I was d-disgusted with myself for ha-having ever called you my friend, and I just wanted t-to d-d-do everything I c-could to make it up to Lila for it. I thought- I started avoiding you near the end of school because you seemed like you were changing for the worse. Then that first week back just seemed to prove it. I’m so sorry, Marinette.”

Somehow, something about her words angers the designer. She’d been doing her best to stay calm, but something in her wants to make Alya understand how she was hurt and hurt her back.

“Oh?” Her voice is scathing, and she fakes disinterest, exaggeratingly inspecting her nails. “See, to me, I felt like I was losing my best friend. I had been so sure that Lila’s threat to take all my friends away would never come true. I told myself that sure, we weren’t as close, but you didn’t hate me. Then I returned to school. Wednesday we made plans to hang out, do you remember? I was so hopeful after that, and then you were the first to turn. All of you just threw me out - do you have any idea how badly that messed me up? How long it took me to believe I was worthy of being cared about after that?”

Like someone watching their neighbor’s house burn in the night, Alya stares as Marinette continues.

“I still haven’t recovered properly! My anxiety is so much worse now, because come on, look what Lila did in less than a year! Who knows what could happen! A part of my mind is still constantly waiting for people to leave me again, and while I no longer believe it- thank goodness- actually no! Thank my friends, because they stayed. They cared about me, when I didn’t even care about me and I would never have recovered without them! So yeah, while I no longer think that they’ll leave me, there’s a part of my mind forever wondering ‘what if they do’. I thought I’d lost them before. You met them after an akuma attack and Lila was with you, and I saw them talking to you and I was so sure that they would find out about everything and then they’d start looking at me in disgust too, that I’d be forced to watch more people drift away, to lose people again, and then I’d be alone again! They didn’t even know what happened yet! They found me having a panic attack and the first thing I said was that I’d prove to them that I wasn’t lying! I was so desperate! I didn’t want to lose them too! And…” Marinette exhales, fury dying down and giving way to exhaustion. “Look. We used to be so close, but no matter what, that can’t happen again. There’s a rift now. I don’t hate you, and I’m not saying I never want to speak to you, maybe years from now, we could maybe be some sort of friends, but we can never be best friends again, if we ever were.”

Alya nods. “Th-th-that’s fine. I don’t deserve you. Y-you’re b-be-being too nice as it i-is.”

Marinette’s heart breaks. She wants to comfort her so badly, but she won’t lie, and she’s beginning to feel that maybe it’s okay to think someone doesn’t deserve her. She has value, and if people don’t treat her that way, then she knows who isn’t worth her time. She won’t agree with the statement though, that just feels too mean, and she can’t bring herself to say it to her face.

The two sit in an awkward silence for some time, interrupted only by Alya’s barely stifled sniffling and sobbing. Marinette grabs her phone.

 Marinette: would you be up to talking with alya?

 Adrien <3: What did she do?

 Marinette: r talk went fine i meant for the way she treated u.

 Adrien <3: Oh.

Adrien <3: Sure.

 Marinette: well be on r way down

 “Alya? I think you should talk to Adrien. The way he was treated at school is inexcusable,” Marinette says coldly. She flips up on the messages app as she turns off her phone.

The other girl nods shakily, and they head downstairs. When they reach the entrance to the park, it’s not hard to spot her group of friends. The five of them are out on the grass, chatting with each other. Marinette walks over to them, staring down at them. “Watching the grass grow, huh?”

They all turn to look at her, there are several cries of ‘Mari!’ from everyone but Felix who just remarks, “Oh yes, it is indeed very intriguing.”

She can see the barely concealed smirk on his face, and she just rolls her eyes. “Goodness, you guys.”

“How did it go?” Allegra asks, eyeing Alya warily.

“It went fine. She’s here to talk with Adrien.”

Adrien nods, standing to give Marinette a quick hug before walking with Alya to the other side of the park.

“...I feel bad. She’s so upset,”  Marinette mumbles.

Allegra hugs her tightly, and Marinette can tell she’s scowling. “As she should, after what she did.”

“Still.”

“You care too much, that’s all,” Claude justifies, “Too much empathy, which isn’t the worst trait to have.”

“We can hate her enough for you,” Allegra growls, still watching Alya.

“She doesn’t deserve that. I don’t want her to hate herself for this, that’s not good.”

“Oh, ‘Nette. I’m sure she won’t hate herself, prob’ly just be pretty guilty for a while.” Allan reassures.

Felix adds, “Even if she did, it would not be your fault in the slightest. You cannot control what other people think.”

Marinette frowns, unconvinced.

Claude musses up her hair, earning an affronted squeak from the girl. He ignores her, saying, “Anyways, do you want to hear about the grass we’ve been watching? I swear it’s grown a whole one thousand twenty fourth of a millimeter.”

“Did you actually watch grass grow?”

“Well, that’s what we said we were gonna’ do, isn’t i’?” Allan teases.

Marinette shakes her head, sighing.

“Actually, it’s technically spring right now, how are you doing?” Allegra asks.

Marinette grins. “I’m back to normal, but in a few weeks? Once flowers start blooming I’m going to be a little hyper, so prepare yourself.”

“Wonderful,” Felix mutters, “Two Claudes.”

“You love meeeee!!” Claude flops towards him, teasing.

“I suppose.”

“So, is that from the same thing that makes you try to hibernate?” Allan checks.

“Yup! I really like spring! Flower crowns incoming.”

“I am all for flower crowns!” Claude crows.

“I’m guessing Adrien knows about this?” Allegra says, “He seemed to know something when spring was brought up, but decided he was going to be all cryptic about it.”

“It’s just more fun that way!” The boy in question returns, going next to Marinette.

“He’s not wrong.”

“Oh, of course you would agree with that, Claude.”

They bat their eyes innocently. “Why, Allegra, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Pfff. Yeah, you’re definitely the picture of innocence, buddy.” Allan rolls his eyes.

Claude gasps. “Allan! You’d betray me like this? Does our friendship mean nothing? Et tu, Brute?”

The boy puts the back of his hand on his forehead, falling backwards.

“Oh no! Claude feign-ted!” Adrien cries.

It takes a moment, but Claude is the first to get it, cracking up. Marinette just sighs wearily, soon followed by Felix. Allan and Allegra understand at the same time, the former laughing, and the latter groaning.

---

Author’s Note: How was that for a chapter? Originally, I was going to have her friends see the pictures, but it didn't quite fit in, and it wouldn't have led to anything big, so I dropped it.

Were you surprised there wasn't a strong language warning? I was when I was proofreading.

Hey, who wants to see the results of the survey? Do you want them later today or on Saturday (to give it a full week)? Also, there's some great extra responses from that bit at the end, so do you guys just want to see all of them or have me find some highlights? If you haven't taken it, please do, because I'm having a blast. Also, should I do another survey for a dumb debate like this, because I already found another great question.

(Can you tell I've been cooped up inside only leaving to walk the dog or get groceries? A little stir crazy here. My dog is just happy I'm home more.)

Regardless, I look forward to any and all comments you have for me! You guys make me smile!

P.S. I haven’t done a ‘things I’ve overheard’ in a while. I’ll probably post one soon.

First | Previous | Next

[drakesfiance]

The Reunion

Pairing - Tom Hiddleston × OC (Meg)

Word count - 2500+

Summary - Okay I'm gonna be honest here.. this is something I wrote for a special someone. There is this guy I like.. But I'm obviously not gonna send it to him haha so I decided to post the chapter here. I hope you guys like it and trust me Chapter two Is coming soon. Drop In what you think about it in the comment box down below.♥️

***

"I'll be there in 15 minutes. I promise. I'm so sorry!" I said as I hung the phone to turn my concentration back to driving. I was already late and the traffic ahead of me wasn’t helping me much either. In the traffic, my mind kept wandering in anticipation. I was meeting my friends after a really long time. But more than that, my heart raced as I thought about everyone who was going to be there, including him.

“Finally, she arrives…after an hour. But okay,” Alex said in his ever so sarcastic tone. A sheepish smile instantly formed on my face as I apologized for reaching late. I went to the kitchen and popped open the soda as I made my way next to Alex.

“Where is everyone else? Don’t tell me I’m the first to reach? Tom, Ivy and Kenji are all late. And you were yelling at me for arriving late. How Alex of you!” I said with a smug smiled laced on my face.

"Okay, first of all. You realize we are all sitting at Tom's place? So, yes. He is here. He’s gone to the washroom. Secondly, Ivy and Kenji have gone to bring snacks for us,” Alex said very satisfied with his explanation which was successful in wiping the grin off of my face.

“Anyway, I have to use the restroom. I’ll bring Tom on my way back,” I said.

“Okay. Although if I were you, I wouldn’t really be very excited to see Tom,” Alex said coolly as he switched the tv on.

I looked at him with a confused expression waiting for him to elaborate. But what could worse could really happen if I see my best friend after a long time, huh? And a thought did come to my head, a worse case scenario, if you must. Although, I shrugged it off and went upstairs. 

While returning from the restroom, I saw the door to Tom's room partially open. As a warning, I knocked on it twice and then flung it open. Tom's back faced me as I hugged him from behind. Normally, this would have resulted in hug back. However, this time Tom just stood there. I backed off from the hug.

"Tom, we are waiting for you. What’s taken you so long?”

I could see his back muscles contracting and relaxing through his tight t-shirt as he took deep breaths. This took me to the time when I used to dream about him nights after nights. His back still faced me. There were rare times when Tom would behave like this, overly quiet and relaxing himself though breathing. Alex’s warning started ringing in my head.

"Tom?" I mustered up some courage and touched his shoulder to turn him around.

He shrugged my hand off and with one last deep breath, he turned. His left hand was balled in a fist and one could see all his veins through the skin of his hands. His neck was red and so were his eyes. Bloodshot red with tears threatening to pour from the corner of his eyes. He gazed at me with his rage-filled light brown eyes. His jaw kept clenching and unclenching as he stood there for what felt like an eternity before he spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He said as he slowly put a blue sheet held in his right hand in front of me. His voice was calm in contrast to the way he looked at me.

I looked at the paper he held out and I knew then and there, this is it! My stomach dropped and everything came crashing down in front of my eyes.

*Few months ago, *

‘He will never find out, no one has to know.' I thought to myself as I unfolded the paper to read it one last time.

Hey Tom,

At first, you were just a friend. I loved spending time with you. Hanging out for hours after lectures. Going on long walks and talking about anything and everything. You were there when I needed you, you stuck around through my breakdowns.

You're genuine, smart and you're passionate about everything that you do. You're always there for your friends and that's what made me put all of my trust in you. I'm able to open up to you, knowing that you won't judge me. You believe in me.

When I began falling for you, I didn't know what it was. Maybe it was just a crush? Maybe it was Just an attraction and I wanted it to go away. Not because I didn't like you, but because I valued our friendship more than anything else. I knew that whatever I was feeling, it was forbidden. I knew acting on those feelings would be abysmal. I was falling for my best friend, it was someone I couldn't have in that romantic way. You were someone who I wanted so dearly, but I couldn’t have.

Telling you everything.. That wasn't an option. I thought if I just ignored all the feelings, I could just push them aside and pretend like everything was okay. It was difficult to pretend like I wasn't jealous of that girl who caught your eye. I was happy for you, truly I was. It just, hurts. It hurts to know that you took her to our walking spots. That you took her to our coffee place. It hurt to realize that, that's what you will do when you find someone. You won't have time for us anymore. And it's not your fault at all, this is life. We will just have to accept the fact and move on.

It's arduous. It's so damn difficult pretending like everything is okay. It's difficult hanging out like we used to. But, I'm happy. I'm happy to keep pretending that it's all okay, to keep things going.

I wish I could tell you everything. But I won't. For our friendship's sake. I will never ever do anything to hurt you. How can I?

I don’t know how long it is going to take for me to pretend like everything is okay until everything is okay.

- Meg.

***

"Tom, I…I can explain,” I said but my voice deceived me. Looking at him, standing there, I did not have the courage. What possible explanation could I give him when I didn’t even know for what he wanted an explanation or if he even wanted one.

"You just.. predicted everything? You didn't feel like it was important to talk to me about this?" He said with a groggy voice while clutching the paper tightly in his hand. 

His whole composure intimidated me as he took a step closer towards me. I took one back.

"I…I know I should've told you but I had my reasons, Tom," I said with not a lot of confidence. I took one more step behind and I knew that if I took even one more step behind, I would be pressed against the wall.

"You were never going to tell me then? You don’t think I deserved to know?” Tom said with his tone going just a little higher. I stood there quiet, and there I was pressed against the wall as his intimidating figure hovered me.

"Meg…" he leaned in closer to me as his voice became almost a whisper. His hand travelling to my chin to lift it up.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he said as he brought his forehead and made contact with mine. He tucked the strand of my hair behind my ear and then brought both his hands to my cheeks. My heart was racing a million miles per hour in the anticipation of what was going to happen next.

I looked at him and then at his lips and I was aware of the close proximity between our lips. As if my lips had a mind of its own, I leaned in to kiss him. Reading my lips, his lips started working with mine. I could feel his hands travelling down my waist. He mumbled “jump” and I obeyed. He caught me by my butt and my legs were wrapped around his torso. His face formed a little smile as we kept kissing.

Our bodies were on fire as the passion took over us. It was a strange feeling but I was ready to get high on it. We took a little break all the while our lips never left each other and our bodies never separated. I could feel each and every breath of his against my lips.

He carried me to the edge of the bed and sat down with my butt now resting on his lap as his hands travelled to explore other parts of my body. His mouth moved to my neck and I felt every swipe and lick that his tongue made, the feeling was new and it felt incredible. His teeth grazed my collarbone and I moaned his name. I buried my hands into his hair, gently tugging at them and earning a moan from him. 

His hands moved to my hips, his long fingers were digging into my skin but the pain, it felt wonderful. My body began to rock back and forth and I felt his grip tighten. I felt a new sensation I had never felt before, when I felt him get hard against me. His hand let go off my hips and he looked at me as if asking for permission. I nodded and he found the hem of my shirt and pulled away from our kiss to pull the shirt over my head. I shivered as I felt the fresh air hit my bare skin though the feeling was quickly replaced with a heat boiling in my whole body as his mouth wandered my body. His tongue leaving a wet trail of kisses on my skin as his lips grazed my breasts, his hands cupping them ravishingly as he brought his mouth to one of my hardened nipples. Hesitantly at first, he began sucking on it with relish, closing his eyes and making me scream his name in ecstasy.

It was really happening.. My conscious told me to stop but I didn't want to. That feeling.. it was different, it was exciting and I wanted more of it. 

His lips were hastily pressed to mine in a heavy kiss. Tom groaned in approval as my hand travelled up to his hair, fisting them between my fingers. My breasts were pressed to his hard chest. I guided his head to the side as I placed kisses down his neck. Tom's erection was desperately straining against the material of his underwear. I wanted to please him, despite my lack of experience, I knew Tom's pleasure would be intensified without the limiting walls of his underwear hugging his lower back. I pushed him to the side, guiding him onto his back and straddling him in a fluid movement. He brought his hand to my face and pulled me in for pressing a heavy kiss to my lips. I kissed his jawline and left a trail of wet kisses and stopped just above his torso. I kept my gaze fixed on his face as I took the band of his underwear and slowly inched them down his thighs.

My hand wrapped around his shaft and I felt him twitch. I started pumping up and down trying to find the pace. “Keep going Meg,” He groaned, his eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip to supress the moan. I leaned towards his dick and took it into my mouth. He groaned slightly and fisted my hair to keep me in place. I sucked gently on it, slowly increasing the speed until I heard him cry out in pleasure. I bobbed my head up and down as his penis started twitching and that’s when I knew he was close. I released him with a ‘pop’ and leaned back. He took a few deep breaths before rolling us, so I was now lying flat on the bed and he was hovering over me. He leaned over me and pressed a harsh kiss to my lips before nibbling his way down to my chest. He slid a hand down my stomach and brushed his thumb over my swollen clit. His long fingers fit right through my folds and my back arched from the bed as he thrusted two fingers into me without warning, curling up to hit that sweet spot that I had been writhing. He took his fingers and I let out an uncomfortable moan.

He grabbed my legs and locked me in place as he pressed his mouth against my folds, his tongue darting out to tease my entrance. I was screaming in pure ecstasy at that sensation. His tongue was eager, circling my clit in an almost torturing pace, licking over my entrance and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips until I whined with shaking limbs. I felt right on the edge. At that moment he sped up and slid two fingers inside me and started moving them rapidly, curling them to graze my G spot.

“Oh Tom..” I screamed as I spasmed, my walls clenching around his fingers as I arched my back. My vision went black for a couple of seconds as the euphoric feeling took over me.

“Where the hell are you guys?” I heard Alex yell in the corridor. I looked over at Tom with panic in my eyes.

“ALEX DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR YOU WAIT OUTSIDE,” Tom yelled and gave me a smile before pressing a light kiss to my shoulder and then rolling to the side. He covered me up with the sheet and turned to face me. 

“Let me take care of him,” he said and frantically tried to pull up his boxers.

“I’m coming in! What is taking you guys so long.” Alex yelled from the other side of the door.

“Tom DO SOMETHING,” I hissed at him and he ran for the door but his leg got caught up in the pile of clothes that were lying on the floor and he tumbled on the floor while I started laughing loudly at the scene before me.

“WHAT..THE..FUCK,” I stopped laughing as I looked over to find Alex standing in the doorway staring at us with a shocked expression on his face. Tom immediately ran to the door and slammed it shut.

“IVY, KENJI COME UP HERE!” We heard Alex shout. We both looked at each other and burst out in fits of laughter.

“Oops?” He said and climbed back into the bed.

“I’m going to kill Alex,” I laughed.

“Well.. It was kind of your fault too..” Tom said and gave me a small smile.

“We should talk.” I said with an apologetic smile.

“We definitely should,” He replied and kissed my forehead.

To be continued…

Thank you so much for reading ❤️ if you would like to be tagged let me know❤️

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

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[johnnysnostril]

Lights Out

Chapter 6

Hazel’s P.O.V

I glanced down at my dress and watched the fabric soak up the liquid. Sapphire instantly searched for my face, as did woojae. I sighed as i looked back up at junwon. He had his hands in his pockets, looking off to the side and lightly bopping his head to the music. I glanced over at sapphire, whose attention was now on woojae. She was clearly upset. She waved her finger in his face and he grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers in a way that calmed her down almost completely. 

I stood up from the staircase and made a beeline for the bathroom. Pushing through the crowd of half drunk humans, I kept my composure as best as I could. I wanted to cry so badly.

As I slammed the bathroom door behind me, I closed my eyes.

Why would he be here with someone else?

Just as I was about to let out the water works, there was a bang at the door. I slightly jumped and yanked the door back. “What!” I shouted, expecting it to be junwon. It wasn't. It was some drunk fool, who pushed right past me and threw up all over the toilet. I groaned and stomped my way back towards the crowd of people. 

Pushing against everyone, i made my way towards Woojae. Grabbing his shoulder, I turned his body around to face me. “Why would you let him bring another girl here!” I shouted over the music. Woojae quickly shook his head and put his hands up. “We just happened to arrive at the same time, Hazel. I’ve been trying to get in touch with him to tell him about the accident. I had no idea he was even coming to this party.”

I looked over towards sapphire. “How did he even know there was a party in the first place, Sapphire?” 

She placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side. “I didn’t personally invite him. He probably saw the invitation that I posted.” 

I rolled my eyes and bumped her shoulder as I walked past her.

Junwon’s P.O.V

This wasn’t really my style. Parties were just too loud for me. I was only here cause someone sent a stupid invitation to Jay. he saw the word mansion and said we must attend. To be honest, I was still tired from all the partying we did the other night. All I really wanted to do was get away from this girl and go to sleep in my own bed. Jay really wanted to spend some time together since this was his last day in the states. He wanted me to see what kind of lifestyle I would have back in Korea. Only he said it was going to be ten times worse with the partying. 

“Damn, there’s hella people here.” Jay laughed. “Perfect opportunity to spread the word about your music to gain more exposure. What do you think?” he asked. I nodded my head and glanced around the room. He was right, there was a ton of people here, but i--

“Hazel?!” I shouted as I spotted a familiar figure throughout the crowd. I pulled my arm back from the girl who was attached to me. “Hey!” she whined. I waved her off and wiggled my way through the people. “Hazel!” I yelled out for her. She kept walking. 

“Yo!” someone pulled at my jacket and I turned around. “Woojae? what are you doing here?” i laughed.

“What the hell are you doing, bro?” He shouted over the music. 

“What do you mean? I just seen Hazel, where is she going?” I shouted back.

“She going crazy. You really thought bringing another chick here wouldn’t set her off?”

I furrowed my brows. “Wait, who’s party is this?” i asked. 

He ignored my question.

“You know everyone’s been trying to get ahold of you, right?”

I pulled out my phone. Something I hadn't looked at in days, and he was right. I had tons of missed calls from unsaved numbers.

“The girls didn’t miss your show on purpose. They got into a car accident.”

I glanced up at him. “A what?!” my breathing went short and I turned my attention back to finding Hazel, leaving woojae standing there.

Hazel’s P.O.V

Walking into Sapphire’s room, I reached for my clothes that sat on the bed and started to change out of her dress. As i lifted my arms to put on my shirt, this stupid pain in my back started to pinch at me. I winced and shut my eyes, instantly crying. Not only from the pain but, because this idiot brought a freakin girl to my bestfriend’s stupid party. 

“Hazel.” Sapphire said as she entered the room. “Don’t take your anger out on me. I didn’t invite the man.” she said closing the door. I breathed a laugh and proceed to get dressed, wiping my eyes. “I don't care, Sapphire. I really don’t. I’m going home.” I said wiggling into my pants. 

“Yes, you do care and no you’re not going home. You don’t have a ride back.” she said snatching my shoes up. “You really think that’s going to stop me from leaving. I will leave this house barefoot.” 

As I made my way to the door, Sapphire put her hand over the handle. “Just stop.” she whined. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to be celebrating being alive.” 

I sighed. “Yay. we’re still breathing. Now, move.” Pushing her hand away from the knob, I snatched the door open and there stood junwon with his fist in the air, like he was going to knock.

I groaned and slammed the door in his face. Sapphire stood there quiet for a moment. As she placed my shoes back on the ground, she pulled me into a tight hug. I started crying again, as I hugged her back.

Everyone knew deep down, i had feelings for junwon. Even when i was with Bryan.

Everyone knew. Everyone!

“Hazel, i just wanna talk..” Junwon said through the door softly. I said nothing.

I just stood there, in sapphire’s arms and cried for what seemed like forever.

“You should just let him explain himself. I know you wanna punch him in the throat, but do that after.” she said giggling a little. I pulled back from her hug and pushed my hair back. 

This night was just terrible. 

“I don't even wanna see his face, sapp.” I mumbled. “I wouldn’t either.” she replied. “But, at least he’s here. Not down there, with that hoe.” Sapphire shrugged. “Use this opportunity.”

Seconds later, sapphire disappeared. It was just junwon and i now. 

I kept my distance, standing over by the entrance to the bathroom. As he started to approach me, I lifted my hand and shook my head slowly. 

“Just- don’t..” I furrowed my brows as my lip started to quiver. “Don’t..” 

Junwon parted his lips and sighed. I could tell he didn't know where to start.

“Did you really get into a car accident?” he mumbled, searching my body for marks.

I breathe a laugh and crossed my arms. I couldn't bring myself to say a word. I was just going to scream and I knew that wouldn’t be good for the situation. Did he really think I would lie about something like that?

“Why do you care?” I spat out. Junwon blinked a few times then shook his head. 

“Hazel, why wouldn’t I care? You’re.. my best fucking friend...” 

Best fucking friend?

I looked off to the side, pretending not to hear those words. 

“Are you okay?” he said walking over to me. He took my hand and I immediately snatched it away. “I’m fine. Just- get out of my way.” I mumbled as I walked past him. Slipping on my shoes, I tied the laces carefully. 

“Please stop acting like this.” Junwon was becoming frustrated and I really didn't care. I rolled my eyes and headed towards the door, but he stood in front of me.

 “I thought you ditched me, okay? I thought you just completely forgot about me and went to kick it with Bryan instead.” He confessed. 

Hearing his name just pissed me off even more. 

“Bryan was the idiot who hit us.” I yelled angrily, pushing past him.

I stomped out of Sapphire’s room and was soon in the mix of the wild hyenas.

Pushing them aside, I made my way to the front door and yanked it open, stepping out into the cold night. I squinted my eyes, looking down the dark road- having second thoughts about leaving.

Leaving the door wide open, I could hear the party getting louder. Girls were screaming and shouting at the presents of someone. I turned back, looking at a big circle of people and flashing lights. I rolled my eyes at the scene and started walking down the road.

an hour later

This was my sanctuary. This was the place that i would go everyday after my father passed away. This place has seen many tears of mine.

I sat down on the bench, hugging my arms to get away from the cold. I looked out towards the waterfall and sighed. 

“What is happening, dad? I don’t understand.”

The next day

“What the hell..” I groaned. As I opened my eyes, the waterfall came back into my sight. The sun was warm against my skin and the wind was slightly blowing. 

Sitting up, I yelped. My back was on fire and it felt like someone was stabbing me over and over again.

My body became stiff as i tried to lift myself off the bench.

How the hell did I fall asleep out here?

Approaching my front door, I stared at the handle. My mom was going to flip. I bet she was worried sick about me.

“Hello?..” I called out as I opened the door. It was quiet. The silence could actually kill. 

“Zoe?”

Nothing.

Walking over to the kitchen, I glanced at the oven clock. 

10:42am

I lifted my brows and opened the pantry for some medicine. I popped two advils in the mouth and grabbed some water than made my way upstairs.

Opening my door, I saw a small box on my bed. Flipping it over, I examined the square and tilted my head. “The heck is this?”

Ripping the box open, i slightly gasped. It was a new phone. I shook my head and picked it up, searching the box for a name.

Nothing.

“HAZEL?!” I heard Zoey’s voice call out for me.

I ran over to the ponywall with the new phone in my hand. “Did you do this?” I said looking down at her, showing the phone. She smiled and lifted her arms, which i could barely see. They were covered in shopping bags.

“What the hell?” 

“I damaged Woojae’s pockets, not mine.” she confessed. Zoey skipped up the stairs, leaving the front door open.

“I was gone for 14 hours and your first thought was to go shopping?” I said disappointed. She shook her head. “No!” she shouted. “Look, we went looking for you. Even tried to file a missing person report, but they said we had to wait for 24 hours just in case you showed up.” she started. “We looked all night for you, staying up until 4am.” Zoe made her way to her room and I followed behind her. “So, you gave up and decided to go shopping?” I repeated. She huffed. “Sapphire and I were worried sick, okay? Woojae thought it would be a good distraction for us.” she smiled as she tried to hug me. I pushed her arms away.

“Are you not understanding how fucked up this is?” I questioned.

“HAZE?!?!?” Sapphire’s voice rang in my ears.

I rolled my eyes and made my way downstairs, folding my arms across my chest. “Are you guys serious right now?” I said annoyed as I looked down at her shopping bags. Woojae entered the house quickly after her and set down more bags.

“I’m so happy to see you!” I winced as she threw her arms around me. “OUCH!” I screamed. Sapphire pulled back quickly and furrowed her brows. “What’s wrong?” she shouted. 

I paused for a minute.

“Your.. ring..” I lied. “It got stuck in my hair..” as the words left my mouth, I felt slightly out of breath from holding in the pain. She glanced down at her hand and lifted her brows. “I'm sorry..” 

Woojae cleared his throat.

“I see you like your present.” he said nodding towards the iPhone. “I didn’t know which color to get, but I heard that your favorite color is pink.” he laughed as he looked over at Sapphire. 

“This came from you?!” my eyes instantly got bigger. Woojae nodded. “I can’t accept this. Here.” I said handing him the phone back. Sapphire pushed my hand away. “Take it, Haze.” her expression was firm. “I don't want it.” I mumbled to her. “I didn’t ask if you wanted it. You need it.” 

I could tell Sapphire was upset. She picked up a few shopping bags and set it on the couch then approached Woojae, taking his hand.

“Woojae was nice enough to buy you a phone and you should use it. You clearly need some time to get yourself together, Hazel. You’ve been very weird and slightly rude for the past couple days and that's not you. When you find my bestfriend, call me.” Sapphire tugged at Woojae’s hand, signaling him that it was time to leave. He sighed and flashed a weak smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Hazel. Get some rest..”

As the door shut behind them, I stared at it. 

“She’s right, you know?” Zoey said from the balcony. “Woojae was actually really worried. He’s the one who made the report for us.” she mumbled.

“Who’s side are you on, Zoe?” I said quietly. 

“I’m not picking sides. You’re my sister and I love you, but Sapphire is right.” she said sighing and going into her room.

[artificialqueens]

Not Casual At All: Everybody Get Some (Biadore) - Miss Alyssa Secret

“You’re the only one I can trust not to yell, ‘not today, Satan!’ right before you come,” had been Roy’s explanation when Danny brought it up.

Adore thinks she’s going to have to settle for (admittedly cute) trade, but she’d much rather be having sex with Roy. Luckily, there’s a surprise waiting in her dressing room, followed by an absolutely filthy blowjob in the shower and cuddling.  

A/N: Admittedly, I wrote an entire fic to set up a blowjob/mirror sex.  Contains very brief Adore/OMC, and Danny’s resulting vulnerability about the situation. -MAS

********

Adore finished out the number flat on her back on the stage, the lucky fan she’d pulled up to make out and grind with cradled between her raised knees.  She closed her eyes and took a few seconds to enjoy the applause and shouting, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.  

The boy on top of her was very politely holding his weight off her torso, and she let him help her up.  He’d been fun, flushing dark red when she pushed him down in the chair and straddled his lap but readily groping her chest and crotch once invited.  A good kisser as well, something Adore could appreciate, evidenced by the fact that he was now wearing more of her lipstick than she was.  She watched as he tried to discreetly adjust his hard on, gathering his wallet and cap from where they’d tumbled when she pulled his shirt off.

Giving him one last kiss, she murmured, “Come see me after?” in his ear, pleased when he bit his lip and nodded.

”That was fucking hot!” she yelled into the mic, evoking another round of wild screams before introducing the next song.

The music started and she lost herself in the song, green hair whipping back and forth.  There were just a couple more to go, and then she’d be done for the night. Performing always made her horny, so with luck, the boy would find his way to her as well.  

His dark eyes had caught her attention when she scanned the crowd to make her selection. Intensely masculine features, short curls under a hat, he had pushed all of the right buttons.  He was slender with a wiry build that she couldn’t wait to feel pinned against a wall, or maybe the couch in her dressing room.

Adore loved finding the beauty in everyone, never settling on one standard of appearance. On the other hand, she was well aware that the boys she’d been finding most attractive resembled a certain someone, although the fans didn’t seem to have picked up on it.

Yet.

Roy himself seemed highly amused when she admitted most of the trade reminded her of him.  (“As long as it’s me and not Bianca, I’d be worried if you were fucking clowns.”)  She’d much rather be falling into bed, over vanity tables, or against doors with him.  Unfortunately, Bianca was booked halfway around the world, and she was stuck pulling boys who were quite attractive and charming, but still poor substitutes.  Getting off was fun, but she missed the companionship and post-coital conversation that consisted of more than race-chasing or celebrity worship.

After two encores, she bounced off the stage, buoyed by the audience’s energy.  Blotting her face, she grinned when she saw him waiting for her next to a severely unimpressed security guy.

”Wanna party with me?” she winked at him, pulling him by the hand towards the backstage corridor.  Once through the doors, she pushed him against the wall and let him grab a handful of her ass.

“Forgot to ask,” she purred, “what’s your name?”

”Uhhhh…”  He reddened in embarrassment, and she patiently waited for his upstairs brain to come back online.  “Ummm.  I’m Ian.”

”Nice to meet you, Ian.”  She pressed a thigh between his, feeling his clothed erection against her hip.  “Wanna see my dressing room?”

John was lingering at the end of the corridor, and she waved him off as they approached.  He shook his head in mock-despair, giving Ian a once-over before walking down the hall twenty feet and casually leaning on the wall, phone in hand.

She pulled him backwards into the dressing room by the belt loops and paused, frowning, when he stopped dead in the doorway, staring.

”Oh fuck me…”

”What?” Adore didn’t think she’d left it that much of a mess, turning around to check.

”Oh.”

”Hey pussyface,” Roy greeted her cheerfully from his seat on the vanity, carryon at his feet.  “Who’s your friend?”

“Ohmygod.”  Ian’s eyes were wide, and Adore was at a loss for words when he dropped her hand and frankly stared.  “Are you…oh shit, you’re Bianca!”

”That’s the last thing my uncle said when-“ He hopped down, hands casually tucked in the pockets of the (yet another) baggy black hoodie.

Adore was still blinking in disbelief, but she was certain she was sober enough that Roy wasn’t a hallucination.

Ian’s head turned back and forth between her and Roy a few times before smiling nervously. “Ummm.  I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

”Don’t worry, this was supposed to be a surprise.”  Roy stopped just out of arm’s reach from Adore, attention seemingly focused away but she could feel his eyes hot on her.

”Sorry,” she gently squeezed Ian’s elbow.  “Rain check?”

”…what?  Oh!  No problem.  I mean yes.  Uhhh, I mean not if it’s not okay, because I ummm don’t want to-“

”Breathe.”  Roy still looked far too amused, reaching out to take his hand.  “Do me a favor?  Don’t tell anyone you saw me.”

”Sure.  Yes, totally, I will.  I mean, I won’t.  Won’t!”

”Thank you, my angel.  Appreciate it.”

”No absolutely!  You two, are you, yeah?  Yeah.”

“Cat got your tongue?” Ian looked like he was hanging off of Roy’s every word, and it took everything Adore had not to break out laughing.  It figured she would try to pull a Bianca fan.

She saw Ian out with a kiss on the cheek and several photos.  As soon as the door closed, she ignored Roy’s protests and lifted him off the ground with her hug, platform boots leaving her nearly a foot taller than his boy self. 

“Fuck, what are you doing here?” she murmured into his neck.

”Had a bit of a layover issue, so I got them to reroute me.”  Roy tugged her wig gently until she set him back down.  

“Layover- B, I’m not even on the right side of Europe!”

He waited while she unzipped her boots and started unpinning her wig.  

“I missed you.”

It was just three words, but the kiss that followed destroyed the last of her lipstick.  She tried to chase Roy’s lips as he pulled away, but he made a face and took a step back.

“What?”

”You taste like someone else.”  The matter of fact tone of voice meant he wasn’t upset, but it also meant Roy wasn’t going to continue kissing her until she did something about it.  And since kissing figured rather heavily into her plans for that evening, she definitely needed to take care of the problem.

”Sorry,” she quirked her lips in a half-smile.  “I wasn’t-“

He cut her off with a hand to her cheek, and she leaned into it, feeling his fingers nimbly locating the last of the bobby pins holding her wig in place.

”It’s okay, pussyface.  I know how it is.  I just wanna taste you.”

Adore made quick work of removing the rest of her drag, aware of how Roy’s hands hovered over her body as he “helped” her get undressed.  

“Shower?”  The adjoining bathroom was small, but it included a shower and she wanted to wash all traces of anyone else off.  She didn’t know how long Roy had to stay, and it wouldn’t do to make any more delays.

Roy was already down to his briefs when she got the water running, completely naked when she was done quickly brushing her teeth, and waiting in the shower once Danny wiped Adore off.  Danny paused to just watch for a moment as the water ran over the sharp planes of his face tilted under the spray, before Roy slicked back his hair and opened his eyes.  Droplets clung to his lashes and he smiled on seeing Danny back to himself again.  

“C’mere,” he beckoned, molding their bodies together.

This time, there was no rush, tongues meeting with the barest hint of teeth.  Danny used both hands to hold Roy’s head in place as he deepened the kiss, moaning low in his throat when hands found their way to his ass and squeezed roughly.  He was most of the way to hard, erection sliding over Roy’s hip and his own pressing against the inside of Danny’s thigh.

”Miss me?”

”Of course, bitch.  Don’t be stupid.”

Roy kissed his way across his collarbone, licking droplets of water from the skin.  Danny nuzzled his temple, hands sliding down to the small of Roy’s back and toying with the dimples there.

”Long as you don’t replace me with a younger model.”  It was clearly meant as a joke, but Danny frowned, unsure if Roy was using it as a cover for a real insecurity.  

Better safe than sorry.

”B,” he tilted Roy’s head back enough to negate their height difference, “I could never.”

The teasing smile on Roy’s face slipped into something more serious in contrast to the highly erotic setting.  

“Shhhh, I know.  I didn’t mean it like that.”

Biting his lower lip, Danny nodded.  Some trace of uncertainty must have remained in his admittedly wobbly smile, because Roy backed against the wall out of range of the water, pulling Danny against him again. 

“Hey.  I promised I’d always be honest with you, remember?“  He blinked a couple of times, eyes gone soft.  “And I’m still okay with it.  It’s not like you knew I was going to be here.”

“You’re allowed to be weird about me showing up with trade.”

“It’s sex,” Roy continued, squeezing Danny’s hands.  “It wouldn’t be fair for me to ask you to wait weeks or months."  For me was left unsaid, and Danny wondered if they would ever quite be willing to address that part of their unconventional…something.  Not relationship, but not friends with benefits either.  

They’d talked about this their first time together, more than either of them was probably comfortable with, and in theory and the vast majority of practice it wasn’t an issue at all.  Months later, Adore was back to no-strings fun to satisfy her appetite, but it had taken a bit to be comfortable again.  Danny had been more circumspect than usual about hookups on tour, to the point that Courtney and Darienne commented about it in the group chat, asking if Adore was feeling okay because of the apparent dry spell.  It wasn’t until Roy left a voicemail (”If you’re not in the mood, that’s one thing.  But if you’re not getting laid because of me, that’s not what I want at all.  Love you pussyface, be safe, and I’ll see you in a couple weeks.“) that he realized he still worried about it being okay.  It wasn’t like the reverse was the case either; as far as Danny knew, Roy wasn’t fucking anyone else, although he always made enough innuendos to satisfy their friends.  ("You’re the only one I can trust not to yell, ‘not today, Satan!’ right before you come,” had been Roy’s explanation when Danny brought it up.)  

“Yeah.  Sorry, just feeling kind of weird about it."  

Roy kissed him gently, nudging their noses together.  "I get that.”

“Sorry,” Danny curled his lip up in a frown, “didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

“Quit apologizing."  There was that hint of Bianca, lurking around the edges.  "If it was bothering you, it was important.  Now,” he cocked his head to the side, “I’ve got four hours before I have to be back on a plane out of here.”

“Time to go back to my room?”

“Possibly, but I thought you might like to get blown in the shower."  Roy’s ability to be conversational about sex was, in Danny’s opinion, one of the hottest things ever.

"Yeah?”

“Yeah."  He steered Danny back under the water.  "Turn around for me?”

Grabbing the bottle of body wash off the shelf, Roy took his time working it into a lather over Danny’s back, fingers digging into the knotted muscles as he worked in gradually larger circles.  He eventually moved his hands around to the front, circling Danny’s waist, Danny’s head falling back onto his shoulder for a messy kiss as he ran slippery fingers teasingly over his nipples.  The layer of soap between them provided the perfect amount of slip for him to slide his half-hard cock against Danny’s ass.

“If you want,” Roy’s voice was husky with arousal, lips barely brushing Danny’s ear, “we can change that to shower sex."  He punctuated the last word with a harder thrust, cock slipping into the cleft of Danny’s ass and evoking a whole-body shiver.

"Mmmm, not tonight?"  The hand Danny had thrown back to anchor Roy against him tightened on his ass.  "Unless you wanna get fucked.”

“Not tonight,” he agreed.

”I don’t let other people fuck me,” Danny confessed, feeling as if it were a scandalous thing.  Maybe it was, for them.  

“I…”

Roy’s hips stilled.  With his chin hooked over Danny’s shoulder, it almost seemed like he was staring into the distance until Danny realized what he was looking at.  

The shower was directly opposite the full length mirror, and even with the glass door partially fogged, their reflection was clear.  If someone took a photo of their faces right then, cheeks pressed together, the pose would be familiar to hundreds of thousands of fans from dozens of selfies.  What the mirror captured and the camera seldom did, was the vulnerability in Danny’s eyes, Roy’s tiny smile and arms holding him possessively against his body.

”Okay.”

Slowly, Roy turned them sideways, moving until Danny’s back was pressed against the wall.  He dropped to his knees, hands sliding down Danny’s sides and coming to rest on his hips.  Then he reached out and pushed the glass door open, providing a view of the mirror unimpeded by steam.

Danny looked down, and Roy shook his head.  “Don’t watch me.  Watch us.”  He jerked his chin towards the mirror, waiting until Danny complied.  

They locked eyes in the reflection, Danny’s still soft with uncertainty and Roy’s sleepy in a way that spoke of rumpled sheets and nights filled with the sounds of sex.  Very gently, Roy nuzzled Danny’s hip, twining both of their hands together as he did so.  He kissed the crest of that same hip, opening his mouth to suck a bruise into the skin before soothing it with his tongue.  

Danny’s mouth fell open in a gasp that he couldn’t hear over the rush of falling water, but felt all the same.  Roy continued his path downward, tongue drawing a line between the droplets of water clinging to the groove between hip and thigh.  

Danny shuddered when he sucked a second love bite into the flesh of his inner thigh, eyes falling closed for a moment before snapping open again.  

Still watching each other, Roy mouthed at Danny’s balls, using his tongue to bounce them against his lips and nipping carefully at the skin.  

Danny’s head fell back onto the wall with a dull thud, but he didn’t look away.

Roy licked up the underside of the straining erection, squeezing their fingers together as he slipped the flushed head into his mouth.  This time, Danny’s moan carried over the shower noise.

He let it slide out of his mouth with a wet pop before leaving open-mouthed kisses down the side of the shaft.  

Danny dug his teeth into his lower lip, trying to stay quiet.

Pulling back for a moment, Roy’s lips curved into his bedroom smile, the one that always made Danny hard with the memories it suggested.  Then he licked his lips, wrapped them around Danny’s cock, and went down in one smooth motion until the tip nudged the back of his throat.

Danny’s hands clenched convulsively as his hips jerked, trying to go deeper.  Roy took a long breath, eyes falling closed, relaxed his jaw, and slipped just a little further down.  

When his eyes opened, what he saw in the mirror was a vision of pure sin.

Danny’s back arched away from the wall, head and elbows braced against it as his hips thrust forward.  The muscles in his arms flexed, chest thrown out and nipples hard.  His mouth hung open, lips puffy and bitten, brow creased and eyes clenched shut in ecstasy.  

Roy pulled back, sucked in another deep breath, sucked harder on the cock in his mouth.  He bobbed his head a few times, pre-come slicking his tongue, before gently freeing one hand from Danny’s grip and bringing some relief to the aching need between his legs.

The moan that vibrated around Danny’s cock when his fingers closed around his own throbbing erection evoked a whimper.  Danny’s hand flew out to turn the water off before fisting his fingers in wet hair and forcing his eyes open to watch as he fucked Roy’s mouth.

The steady stream of moans from them both mingled with the wet, choked-off sounds of a blowjob, filling the steamy air.  Danny’s gaze drifted down to where Roy was jerking himself with rapid strokes, willing back his orgasm.

Roy might not be submissive in the least, but he got off hard on having Danny use his mouth.  The stretch of his jaw, the spit-slick shaft gliding over his lips, the weight of the cock on his tongue, all conspired to bring him closer to the edge.

”B,” Danny rasped out, “I wanna see you come.”

That’s all it took.  Roy’s eyes rolled back and his jaw fell slack as he arched his back and came, thrusting into his fist.  

Orgasm hit Danny like a wave breaking against the shore, rushing up from his cock pulsing cum into Roy’s mouth.  His legs buckled, overcome with shakes, and he collapsed back to slide down the wall, cock smearing cum across Roy’s lips and chin.  The sight of him still shivering with his climax sent an aftershock of pleasure up Danny’s spine.  

There was only the sound of their harsh panting for a few moments, until Roy dragged himself back to reality.  Turning his head, he spit his mouthful of cum towards the drain before listing sideways, coming to rest between Danny’s spread knees.

In response, Danny tugged his shoulders with arms that felt impossibly heavy, pulling Roy until his back rested against Danny’s chest.

”B?” 

“Mmm?”

”Why’d you spit?”

Roy started to sit up, stopping when Danny’s arms tightened.

”Not mad or whatever, just wondering.”

”You’re smoking too much again,” he frowned.  

”Oh.  Sorry.”

Roy shrugged one shoulder, head lolling back against Danny’s shoulder.

”B?”

”Yeah?”

”It’s not cause I’ve been with…”

This time Roy did sit up and turn until they were face to face.  He paused, hearing what wasn’t being said.

”I know you’re being safe.  It really does taste bad, believe me.”

He leaned out to check the time, and groaned.  

“What?”

”We should probably finish cleaning up before someone comes looking for you.”

Danny pushed himself to his feet, waiting for Roy to do the same.  He turned the water back on, giggling as Roy rinsed his mouth under the spray.  

“I should make you eat it next time,” he muttered, rolling his eyes when Danny stuck out his tongue.

They were silent for a few minutes, using the shower for its intended purpose.  Roy sacrificed his shirt for them to dry off (“You’re in a place with a shower and didn’t bring a spare towel?” “What, it’s not like you carry one in Bianca’s suitca- oh.  Never mind.”) and they made their way back out to the dressing room.  

Roy fished out a clean shirt from his carryon, and they collapsed onto the couch.  

“Round two or…?” He tried to guess what Danny might need.

Instead, Danny gathered him close, nuzzling Roy’s wet hair.

”Nah.  How long till you gotta leave again for the airport?”

”Thirty minutes if I want to get through security and not run for the gate.”

” ‘kay.”  Danny sighed.  “Just stay like this?”

Roy smiled and brushed a gentle kiss against his lips.

”I can do that.”

-PSA-

In my stories, Danny and Roy only ever have unprotected sexual activities with each other, and even then not all of the time. Danny’s messed around with other people, so they ought to have used protection, but, like in reality, sometimes people forget. That’s not the reason Roy spits (truly doesn’t like the taste), but leaving semen in contact with your mouth does increase the risk of an STI.

[iamapoopmuffin]

Victims With Numbers

Fandom: Nanbaka/Corpse Party (crossover) Genre: Horror Characters: Hajime Sugoroku, Samon Gokuu, Kiji Mitsuba, Kenshirou Yozakura, Jyugo, Uno, Nico, Rock, Tsukumo, Liang, Upa, Qi, Honey, Trois, Musashi, Sachiko Shinozaki, Ryou Yoshizawa, Yuki Kanno, Tokiko Tsuji, Yoshikazu Yanagihori, Yoshie Shinozaki, Takamine Yanagihori, some OCs to take the role of Kizami later on instead of actual Kizami Includes major character death. Chapter 4 of ?

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Kiji Mitsuba found his gaze pulling upward when he heard the scream, towards the source. Someone upstairs. He took a step towards the door, but didn't leave. A scream like that, when the inmates were scattered all over the place and his own two were god only knew where, was something that definitely needed to be investigated. Well, a scream like that was something that needed to be investigated anyway, someone could be in big trouble, but he couldn't help but think that the voice seemed familiar. If his radio was working, he could at least contact one of the other guards, but every time he had tried to use the damn thing, he'd been met with static and strange, garbled transmissions from unfamiliar sources. Something must have been messing with the signal. He wondered if he would get a better signal from another area. He glanced back over to the two inmates now under his care. They'd woken up in this room together, and he remembered ushering the two minors into a hiding place together during the earthquake before, so he had been with them when they'd fallen. Numbers 25 and 58, if he recalled correctly, were both inmates with significant medical concerns. Their supervisors had to bring the two teenagers to the infirmary on a regular basis and they were both on medication. Kiji didn't know if either of them had any of their needed medicine on them or not, but if not, it would be a big problem.

Number 25 was sat against the teacher's podium, knees drawn to his chest and hands over his ears. He hadn't reacted well to the fall, waking up in a strange place, the screaming or the dead body in the room with them. Number 58 didn't seem as bothered, and was crouched beside him, making sure he was okay. Kiji could already tell getting them to come with him to investigate might be difficult.

"Number 25, are you okay to stand?"

The inmates both looked up at him. "I...think so." The older of the two answered. "I'm not hurt."

"That's good. We need to go check out that scream, make sure whoever it came from is okay."

"No!"

Well, that response wasn't too surprising. "Number 25, we can't stay here. We need to work out where we are, how we got here and how we are going to get out of here. We also need to find everyone else."

"No, we can't go out there!" Kiji looked over at the body in the room, then back to the inmate. It was no wonder he was freaked out. This scene was unnerving to the guard as well. The body in the corner was a teenager themselves, in a school uniform. Obviously murdered. Another thing on his list of tasks would be to alert the proper authorities and ensure a thorough investigation was implemented.

"You don't have to be afraid. I will be with you, and as a Nanba prison guard I'm sure I can face whatever dangers are lurking out there."

58 spoke up, supporting the guard's words. "He's right, Nico. It will be better for us to get moving and get to know our surroundings. We can check the area for any traps or clues as we go, and sticking together is safer than splitting up."

25 shook his head adamantly. He seemed pretty set with the idea that he wouldn't be going.

"Well, I can't leave the two of you here." Kiji told him. "I have a duty towards the two of you, but I also have a duty towards the inmate we heard scream."

58 stood up. "I can go investigate the scream while you stay here with Nico."

"Absolutely not!" Sighing, he just about managed to resist the urge to rub the bridge of his nose in frustration - rubbing off his make-up wouldn't help - and tried to think. The scream had come from just upstairs. If he just took a quick look outside this classroom, he could see if there were stairs leading up nearby. If there was a quick path to the source of the scream, and he could pinpoint it fast enough, he wouldn't leave the inmates alone for that long at all. It would also give him some information about what he was about to face and possibly reassure 25 that they would be fine. "I'll take a look outside." He told the inmates. "I won't go far, and I'll be back in just a few minutes, okay? Stay right here. Do not leave this room unless it's a matter of life or death. Do you understand?"

"We understand, sir." 58 answered obediently. Kiji walked to the door and heard 25 yelling for him to stop as he went. He ignored it and stepped out.

What a gloomy, unattractive place, he thought as he walked through the halls, for now ignoring more dead bodies, all of young people, and walking toward the door at the end of the hall. It was covered in talismans and charms, and wouldn't open when Kiji pulled it. Also at the end of the hall, though, was a corner turn into another hallway. At the end of this one, he could see a staircase leading upwards. Exactly what he needed. There was a large hole in the floor between him and the staircase, but it looked like he could get around it by just entering through the back door of a nearby classroom and exiting out the front. So in the classroom he went, walking a little faster, conscious of how much time this might take and how long those inmates would be left alone in classroom 1-A. As he crossed through the classroom, which was just as unpleasant as 1-A - desks and chairs knocked askew, dust, bugs and dead bodies littering the place - something flared up in the middle of the room. It looked like a floating flame, like demon's fire from ghost legends.

"What on earth...?"

"Earth..." A voice from the flame echoed. "I think this place is far removed from earth. More like hell. A place where we are doomed to suffer until death, and even then..." It, or he, took a shaky breath before continuing in a spiteful tone of voice. "Finally decided to stop shivering with the other two back there, did you? Typical of a grown-up, to go forth on your own and leave the kids behind."

"I will have you know that I left that room to investigate a scream from someone I have a duty of care towards!" Kiji scolded the spirit, frankly offended by what it was implying. "I intend to return to those children as soon as I'm sure he's okay."

"Of course you do." Sneered the spirit. "People like you are so high and mighty, acting like they know what's best and are absolute angels. Well, newsflash, you're not shit! You're just like every other piece of filth who's spent too many years living in our shitty, worthless society! You only look out for number one."

"Get out of my way."

"Why should I? You won't find the man who screamed anyway."

"What do you mean by that?"

The spirit gave a gleeful chuckle. "You don't know how this place works yet, do you? You may all be in the same building, you may all be in the same room, but this hell is separated into different dimensions layered over each other. My friends and I...we could leave notes for each other, but we could never see each other again...and time is warped here. That scream you heard could have happened just now, or it could have happened hours, days or even weeks ago. Or it might not have even happened yet!"

Kiji disliked this spirit. He was getting frustrated, and more time was passing since he had heard that scream. He tried to step around the spirit, but it moved to block his way again. "Move it! I don't care what you say, I have to help my kids!"

"Your 'kids'? Please, your screaming prison inmates are hardly kids. You work at a juvenile detention centre?" It seemed the spirit was only fully aware of the two in classroom 1-A with him. "You're not dressed very appropriately for a prison guard, you know."

"Commenting on my appearance? How petty. My flawless appearance couldn't possibly have a negative impact on my work, however you right now are obstructing a prison officer from performing his duties."

"So arrest me, officer!" The spirit laughed, clearly messing with him. "But okay, I give, I give. I'm being just plain nasty right now, aren't I? I'm sorry. Post-traumatic bitchiness. Here, you know what? Before I died, my friends and I managed to work out some vital information about this place and a possible escape route. I could share that with you."

"You could?" Kiji asked, interested. That would certainly be helpful.

"Sure. Just take a seat and I'll explain everything."

"Why didn't you and your friends use this information to escape?"

"We'd already been here too long. We were starved almost to death, and badly injured. We were too weak to use this information to our best advantage, but you are strong and healthy still."

"Okay. I'll gather the other three here."

"The other three?"

"The two kids in the classroom and the one upstairs."

"No! This is a one time offer!" The spirit insisted. "I don't know how long I can stay manifested for. So make your choice, Mister Guard. Listen now and save yourself, or go on a fruitless search for a man who won't even be there. We all know what would be better for you."

"Are you seriously suggesting I abandon these people?"

"Don't play dumb, Mister Guard. We all know you'd rather survive this ordeal than protect them."

Kiji had had enough. He walked through the spirit, since it wouldn't move aside to let him pass. He hurried to the front door, no longer bothering to keep from looking worried. It had been too long since he heard that scream, so running was completely appropriate at this stage. It very well could have been an emergency, and in an emergency no pace was too fast. Besides, it wasn't like he would slip or stumble. Kiji was an expert at running in stiletto heels without even the slightest wobble, no matter how uneven the ground.

Just as he reached the door, a force hit him straight in the centre of the chest and he was thrown back. He hit the ground hard and rolled gracelessly, landing sprawled out on his front with his head towards the door, one arm trapped under his torso. He gasped for breath, and felt a stabbing pain through his chest. His ribs were shattered from the impact, he was sure of it, and he was sure it wasn't the only fracture that he had sustained. How hard was he just hit? He coughed, and tasted blood. And then the spirit appeared before him again. It was red in colour now. It was forming into something other than fire. A body. A teenage boy.

"You damn corporeals piss me off. Get out of your way? Who the hell do you think you are, you selfish son of a bitch?" Kiji heard an ominous creak, and looked over just in time to see a large cabinet fall on him. He cried out in pain. The cabinet itself was heavy, much heavier than it looked. The weight on his body...he actually doubted Hajime would be able to lift this thing by himself, and people often said he was the strongest guard. Additional to that, it felt like a lot of sharp objects had been on those shelves, and they were now embedded in his back. He could feel himself bleeding badly. "You're a liar." The spirit continued. "You don't care about anyone but yourself. None of you do, and you know what? I'm glad I never got to your age." He saw the spirit move and sit on the cabinet, and felt the pressure increase. He was coughing again, and this time the blood he brought up made it past his lips. God, it hurt so much...he couldn't move, couldn't even struggle against it. "Well, how about this? Each and every one of the inmates you pretend to care so much for, each and every one of your 'kids' is going to die here. They're going to die a painful, horrible death, just like me and all my friends, and they're going to feel the pain of that death for the rest of eternity. They will panic, they will struggle, and they will all die meaningless deaths that no-one, especially not you, could ever do anything about." The spirit was rocking back and forth, shifting his weight on the cabinet as he spoke, and each shift worsened the pain and the damage. "And they won't give you a thought as they die. And that's that." He was kicking one leg cheerfully, happy to see the guard suffer. Kiji gave one last groan as his vision began to grow dark and he felt his consciousness fading. He just hoped the inmates would be okay.

Time passed, and back in classroom 1-A, things had been quiet for a little too long. Nico decided it was time to fill that silence. "That big bird guard's been gone a really long time. I'm getting worried. Should we go looking for him?"

Upa had been meditating by this point, but opened an eye to acknowledge the older boy's words. "He told us to wait here."

"But he's been gone for ages!" There was a loud thump somewhere in the distance, and the unease on Nico's face increased. "What if he's in trouble?"

"Then it's more dangerous out there than he thought. He might be held up because whoever we heard scream has been badly injured, or trapped, and it's taking longer than he expected to help him."

"Then...he'll be right upstairs, right? We can go find him!"

Upa stood with a sigh. "The biggest problem with going to look for him is that he might come back here while we're gone. If he finds we left against his specific instructions, we'll be in big trouble, and if he goes to look for us again, we'll keep missing each other."

"But-"

"We can leave him a message explaining." Upa continued before Nico could argue. "It might not stop him from looking for us himself, but it can signal to others that we've been here. If we find people, we can designate this a meeting room. Others might wait for us or the supervisor here if we leave a message." As he said this, he walked to the chalkboard, looking for something to write with. Preferably chalk, but there wasn't any by the board. The supervisor may have had a pen on him, but obviously that wasn't much use to them now. The body on the other side of the room had a knife sticking out of her ribs, and as a last resort he supposed he could take the knife and carve a message into the teacher's podium. Then again, it was a school girl in a school uniform. There was a bag near the body, presumably her school bag, so there was probably a pen case in there. He opened the bag and started to rifle through the belongings within. Typical school supplies, he supposed. He didn't notice Nico opening the door behind him and step out. He picked out a pen, tore a page from a work book and scrawled a message.

Kiji

Nico was worried about you, so we've gone to find you. If we miss each other on the way back, and if any others from Nanba find this note, we should make this classroom our designated meeting point.

That seemed good enough, and he was pretty sure he got the supervisor's name right. Satisfied, he placed it on the podium and turned to look for Nico. That was when he'd noticed he'd wandered off. "Nico?" He called, stepping into the hall.

"Hey, Master! Come look at this!"

"Don't wander off! We have no idea what we'll be facing here!" Upa followed the voice and found Nico standing at the edge of a large hole in the floor. Down below, he could see the first floor. An entrance hall, with more dead bodies. To the left of the hall was a line of windows, suggesting a room on that side, but the nearest door was clearly not one that led to that room. It was on the same wall, but further behind them and covered in strange charms. It didn’t look like there was any way into the side room at all.

"Wow...that's a long way down."

"The supervisor probably went to find another way around the hole."

"Where do you think we are?"

"I don't know. We'll need to figure that out." Upa went to turn away, deciding to head to the other end of the corridor when a scream pulled his attention back to the staircase on the other side of the hole. He looked over just in time to see a girl run down the stairs. She caught sight of Upa and Nico.

"Help me!" She screamed. "Please, help me!"

Nico stepped toward the hole, but Upa put a hand out to stop him.

"Master?"

There wasn't anything they could do to help from all the way over there. Plus, they didn't know for sure they could trust this girl. Upa didn't want to voice that thought though. She, for all appearances, was a scared teenage girl, about the same age as them, and she was wearing the same uniform as the dead girl back in classroom 1-A. That girl had been murdered, so the murderer was probably after that girl as well, by the looks of things. If, by some nasty twist, it turned out the girls had tried to kill each other, which at this stage he doubted, they could defend themselves from some dishevelled civilian. He pointed down the corridor and called across to the girl.

"We can't help you from here. If someone's chasing you, find somewhere to hide or try and get downstairs, we'll find a way over to you."

"Yeah, don't worry, girl! Injustice will meet my boot!"

The girl gave Nico a weird look, and hesitated for a moment, possibly because she'd noticed how the two boys were dressed. Finally, she nodded and turned to run, but someone else was standing behind her now.

He'd not noticed the little ghost girl appearing, but he assumed that had been what the teenager had been running from. The ghost girl had her hair in pigtails, and a pair of scissors in her hand, and only one eye. The other was just a bloodied socket. Before any of them could react, the ghost had plunged her scissors into the girl's own eye. The resulting scream was horrendously loud, a thing of pure agony as the spirit tried to dig the girl's eye out of its socket. Upa heard Nico gasp, and part of him expected him to run off again, but he didn't. Both of them stayed and helplessly watched the spirit pull the girl's eye out and try and place it in her own empty socket. After deciding the replacement wouldn't fit, it dropped the eye down and left the girl to bleed out.

"That was awful..." Nico breathed.

"The ghost knows where we are." He took Nico's hand and led him away. "Unless you happen to know some very good first aid, there's nothing we can do to help her."

"Could your old man friend help?"

"Qi? He specialises in medicines, not open wounds, but he does have some medical knowledge. He might be able to prolong her life. But he isn't here right now, and I doubt he could keep her alive and safe until we could find her a more qualified doctor."

"If he’s not here, where is he? He was with us back in the game room, with everyone else...where do you think everyone else is?" He didn't respond. He didn't know, after all. He didn't even know where they were. "We'll find them, right, Master?"

"...Right." It was probably wrong to say that, but Upa didn't doubt his words. They would at least find someone, whether they were alive or not. After all, they at least knew Kiji was in the building with them.

[nancywheelxr]

Batfam Week: Day 2 - Trapped

through different colored glasses

The Justice League, Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen in particular, love to say that Bruce is too serious.

They say he needs to lighten up. They say he is too anal about things. They say he is too strict. They say a whole lot of things.

But Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen do not have to deal with things like this.

“Bruce, I’m telling you,” Tim says, frantically, “this is in no way my fault. If I had to blame anyone, it would be Dick anyway!”

“Me?” Dick cries, scandalized that his brother would throw him under the bus like this, and almost lets the ice pack slip from his black eye, “why is it my fault?”

“I don’t know,” Jason drawls, sounding utterly bored by the whole situation, “I think I agree with Replacement on this.”

or, alternatively, Bruce confiscates Jason's rocket launcher and sets off a chain reaction, Dick somehow gets dragged into Jason's mess, Tim wishes his brothers weren't maniacs, and maybe it's really a matter of points of view

The Justice League, Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen in particular, love to say that Bruce is too serious.

They say he needs to lighten up. They say he is too anal about things. They say he is too strict. They say a whole lot of things.

But Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen do not have to deal with things like this.

“Bruce, I’m telling you,” Tim says, frantically, “this is in no way my fault. If I had to blame anyone, it would be Dick anyway!”

“Me?” Dick cries, scandalized that his brother would throw him under the bus like this, and almost lets the ice pack slip from his face, “why is it my fault?”

“I don’t know,” Jason drawls, sounding utterly bored by the whole situation, “I think I agree with Replacement on this.”

Bruce should intervene before it escalates further, he really should. Even if it’s nearing four in the morning and he has a board meeting at 8 am. Alfred wouldn’t be happy if Bruce just went back to bed and left them to resolve this on their own. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, “keep your voices down, Alfred is sleeping. Good. Now, start from the beginning.”

Dick and Tim immediately begin talking over each other. He doesn’t know what else he expected, really. “One at a time.”

“Fine,” Jason says, leaning against his rocket launcher, “I’ll start.”

*

All Jason wants is to get Roxy back.

Honest.

She is an integral part of his arsenal and she has so many memories attached to her. The emotional value is priceless. Like, remember that time he tried to blow up an entire building with Black Mask inside? Good times, he knows.

So yeah, Jason wants Roxy, his beloved rocket launcher, back.

And in all fairness, Bruce had no business confiscating it this time. He hadn’t been planning on firing her against Penguin’s stupid warehouse. It was just for intimidating purposes, mostly.

But getting her back, it’s not gonna be easy, Jason knows. Since the last time, he bets Bruce won’t simply lock her in the armory.

Since asking is not an option, and apologizing is entirely too unfair on his part, Jason does what he has to do. He waits until everyone is out on patrol and Alfred is down in the Cave, and sneaks into the Manor.

It’s quite easy, in fact. Less than fifteen minutes and he’s silently roaming the empty hallways.

You’d expect more, it being Batman’s house and all.

The tracker says it’s not downstairs. Jason walks around aimlessly, watching the tiny red dot blinking on his phone as it grows and shrinks with each turn.

Not in any of the bedrooms, not in the living room, not in the pantry. The second floor, past the music room, past another row of unused bedrooms, past Bruce’s study, past–

Finally. In one of the old ass broom closets.

Jason opens it slowly, cringing at how loud it creaks in the otherwise silent house.

Peering inside, he sighs in relief. There she is. Cue in shitty cliche music. Roxy, in all her rocket glory, stands in the corner of the room, the only shiny object among all the dust-coated, forgotten things.

Ah, how long have they stood there? Forsaken by mankind, refused by society. Sitting in a shrine of dust and cobwebs, never to see sunlight again–

*

“Oh for the love of god, Jason,” Tim kicks him in the shin, wincing when the movement jostles his sprained wrist, “quit bullshitting, your prose sucks.”

Bruce feels the beginning of a headache growing at the back of his head. Stress then. “Jason, please,” he sighs, “just cut to the chase.”

“Fine, fine. Jeez, talk about a tough crowd.”

*

Anyway. Where was he?

Oh, right.

So, Jason steps inside. And promptly dies a little more inside. Cobwebs stick to his everything. They get in his hair, on his clothes, even on his damn shoes. Of all the days to leave his helmet behind.

But he powers through. All for Roxy, do it for Roxy, he tells himself.

Finally, after crossing miles of disgusting cobwebs, Jason is reunited with his baby. She looks as gorgeous as the day he bought her, shiny and cool and deadly.

With his mission accomplished, he steels himself for the trek back.

In a totally unrelated note chain of events, a vase is knocked out by something– that may or may not have been Roxy as Jason turned around, but no one can prove that, so– and ends up falling to its side, knocking out a row of boxes that had been beside it on the highest shelf in the process, and then, as it topples down, one of the boxes falls open, letting a bowling ball roll away.

And, in a true feat of the Universe deciding to fuck over Jason, the ball hits the door. Or, more specifically, it hits the doorknob. Breaking it right off.

“Fuck no,” says Jason, with feeling. He hugs Roxy closer, cursing every god in existence and a few fake ones too, just because. If this was anyone else’s house, he wouldn’t think twice before kicking the door down.

But, as previously stated, this story is set on Batman’s house. Jason doesn’t trust an of the doors not to have some freaky sensor thing that’ll alert the big, bad Bat of any disturbance. He’s half convinced it already might have. For all he knows, Bruce could be a second away to breaking it down himself and yelling at Jason.

Even ignoring that particularly upsetting prospect, there’s a lot of ways he could open that door. He could pick the lock, he could unscrew the hinges, he could blow it off with Roxy. The only problem is that all of them are way too noisy for this way too silent place. At this hour Alfred is probably back upstairs, making post-patrol snacks. He would most definitely hear any attempt of messing with the door, Alfred has superhearing when it comes to the Manor, everybody knows that.

And Alfred Pennyworth’s wrath is way worse than Batman’s.

Jason checks the time. While breaking in had taken no time at all, wandering around certainly did. If tonight was slow, and it sounds like it was, they will all be back soon. He turns on his comm, just to check. Tuning in the frequency, he listens as Dick babbles about his stupid day job. Jason turns it off, cursing. If the idiot is babbling that much already, they must on their way back.

Now there really is no way out. Nothing that Jason knows would be fast enough to get him out before they all arrived. You can’t outrace the Batmobile. He is trapped.

Sliding down the dusty, moldy wall, Jason wallows in well-earned, very justified, self-pity, and waits.

Time seems to slow down to spite him further, a way for the Universe to fuck you in big, bold, neon letters. Well, fuck you too, buddy. He waits and waits and waits and waits, but nobody comes his way, because Bruce lives in this unnecessarily, ridiculously giant ass Manor with an unreasonable number of empty ass rooms.

Fed up with the whole situation, Jason ponders his options. On one hand, he could stay there forever, trapped in this tiny, disgusting broom closet, which by the way, has no brooms whatsoever, and waste away into eternity. Maybe he could live off the spiders for a bit, rats if he’s lucky. His arm too, he won’t need two to live in a closet. It might buy him a few months. Or, on the other hand, he could swallow his pride and call someone to come let him out of the damn closet.

He eyes the cobwebs on the upper right corner. Yeah, no, too disgusting. He can’t eat spiders, too creepy, too many legs, too many eyes. Nope, not gonna do it.

Calling someone it is.

Bruce is a no-go, obviously. The Brat, too. He would lord it over his head forever. Alfred? Nah, he would give Jason his disappointed look and shake his head in that sad way, and Jason would be left feeling like the worst person ever. Cass? Fuck, no, she’s still in Hong Kong. Tim, then? Maybe. The kid would definitely be the less annoying option. But he would also be a little shit about it, Jason would never hear the end of it. So that leaves… Dick? Really? Is he that desperate yet?

Let’s be real, he is.

But then again, Dick can be persuaded not to tell on him. If Jason uses the brother card right, maybe he can convince the idiot to keep quiet.

Yeah, he can do this. He survived being exploded, he can survive this.

So he sends him a text, help pls.

To which, Dick answers with a call. Jason declines, they’re operating in stealth mode here. Cant talk, u at the manor?

Yeah where are u? Whats going on? Are u hurt? His phone is thankfully on silent, buzzing with the new messages.

fine, he sends. Then, come to the broom closet next door to the next study after Bruce’s.

what?

quick no time for questions

Sighing deeply, Jason buries his hand on his hands. This is a nightmare. This is all his bad karma kicking his ass. This is hell, this is purgatory– in fact, this is the lovechild of hell and purgatory.

Then, just as he was about to despair, there’s a soft knock on the door. “Jason?”

“Shhh,” he winces at the loud voice, “in here.”

Dick opens the door unceremoniously, not bothered by the creaking hinges. He stands in the doorway, disheveled in his stupid pajama and looking confused like a stupid, lost duckling, “Jason, what do you think you’re doing? At this hour?” He asks, hands on his hips, sounding just as stupidly confused.

“This is an ongoing rescue mission,” Jason explains slowly, because it’s important not to rush Dick, best to let him process things on his own time, “and I needed you to bust me out.”

“What.”

“I’m bringing Roxy home, but the doorknob fell off on my side.”

“Oh,” Dick steps inside, examining the other side of the door to confirm that, in fact, the doorknob had indeed fallen off and Jason hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing, “it really fell off,” he says dumbly.

“Yeah, well, thanks for opening up the door,” Jason gets up, dusting himself off and then picking up Roxy, “and I’d appreciate if you would keep this, you know, between brothers? Great, now it’s time to scram.”

“Uh, Jason,” the idiot stammers out, looking panicked at Jason and pointing, “don’t freak out, but there’s a huge spider on your shoulder.” He takes a step back, totally freaking out, and bumps on the door. Slamming it shut. “Uh, this is bad.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jason glares at him, easily flicking the small spider from off his shoulder, “congratulations, now we’re both stuck.”

Then, Dick wails in despair.

*

“Jason, that is not what happened!” Dick launches himself across the bed, trying to reach his brother but only managing in scaring Tim into climbing up the headboard, “stop telling everyone I’m dumb!”

“To be fair,” Jason says, watching amused, “you make it real easy.”

“Stop jostling the bed!” Tim complains from where he’s perched, cradling his injured wrist. He is going to fall, and it’s going to hurt, mattress or not, but Bruce doesn’t have the energy to get him down himself.

“Tim,” he warns, “if you fall and aggravate your injuries, you are going to tell Alfred yourself tomorrow.”

The teenager grumbles, sending Bruce a betrayed look, but slowly climbs down, scooting as far back as possible.

“Fine,” says Dick, frowning. He and Jason hadn’t stopped bickering yet, but Bruce hadn't expected them to. “here’s what really happened.”

*

Staring at the door, Dick can’t fathom what the hell Jason could be doing inside an unused broom closet. True, his brother can be a unpredictable at times, but this a new level of random.

He knocks at the door, just to be sure. Prank wars aren’t that rare around the Manor.

“In here,” Jason calls quietly. That’s never a good sign.

The door opens with noisy hinges that would probably make Alfred cringe. Dick takes in the scene. Jason is sprawled in one corner, hugging a rocket launcher. Near his feet, a bowling ball sways. Weird, he didn’t know Bruce used to go bowling.

Right. To more important things, “Jason, what the hell?”

“I’m rescuing Roxy,” Jason says unhappily, as if offended that how come Dick didn’t immediately jump to that totally reasonable conclusion, “and I needed you to bust me out.”

There are so many things to address, Dick isn’t sure where to begin. What even. Okay, first things first, “you named your rocket launcher Roxy?”

“That’s what you got from what I said?”

“Would you rather I focus on the fact you were trapped in a broom closet?” Dick rolls his eyes. Tonight patrol had been almost dull, suspiciously so. He should’ve known better.  Clearly, Gotham seen Jason hiding in there and had taken pity on Dick, knowing the kind of wravoc Jason is undoubtedly going to bring down. On that note, ��how did you manage that, by the way?”

Jason makes a non-committal noise, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the door as he gets to his feet with dramatic groans. Dick steps inside to take a better look at the thing, almost tripping on the bowling ball and sending it rolling to the other side of the room. The doorknob is missing and the metal is dented around where it should be. Really? How the hell did he break the whole thing clean off? “It fell off? How?”

“Sometimes,” Jason says, “it be like that. Now, if you could keep this just between us, I’d really appreciate it.”

Dick snorts, already expecting that, and shakes his head, turning around in time to see his brother dusting himself off and grimacing at the cobwebs sticking to his fingers. Gross. But then, something catches his eyes. Crawling its way up Jason’s shoulders, a black spider is quickly reaching his neck. Dick shudders, resisting the strong urge to check himself for any insect, “hm, Jason?” His brother looks up. “Don’t freak out, but there’s a spider on your shoulder.”

And, of course, Jason loses it.

“Shit, I said don’t freak out,” he rushes to stop him from tripping over anything or knocking any of the shelves down. Jason keeps trying to bat the thing off, but the cobwebs stick to his hand, leaving the spider dangling in the air, almost landing on his leg. “Hold still, stop squirming, you’re gonna– jesus christ.” In his frantic flailing, Jason manages to hit him with a painful elbow to the eye, causing Dick to stumble back and almost lose his balance.

Unfortunately, backing away means bumping right into the door. It closes with a loud thud.

“Okay,” Dick sighs, “this is bad.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jason says, having stopped his ridiculous flailing around, “congratulations, now we’re both stuck.”

They watch in silence as the tiny black spider crawls across the room and up the wall. She’s surprisingly fast, and it makes him think of Wally, even if his friend would probably disagree with the comparison. Well, Wally isn’t here to see the little eight-legged speedster himself, therefore, he has no base for opinions, agreeable or not.

“I’m not eating spiders,” says Jason, out of nowhere and with no context whatsoever, “or my arm.”

“That’s good, I suppose,” Dick shrugs, because what else is he supposed to say to that, “cannibalism is generally frowned upon in most societies. And spiders are generally gross, even when they’re like Wally.”

“I really don’t wanna know,” he frowns, sitting back down where Dick first found him and beginning to check his rocket launcher for any damage, “but anyways, you wouldn’t know if Bruce boob-trapped the door, would you?”

Dick wants to say no, he does, but after spending his teenage years in the Manor, he can’t honestly say that’s not something he wondered in more than one occasion. Bruce’s absolute perfect timing used to border omniscience. It was almost supernatural. Every attempt at sneaking out after curfew was foiled before he could even make it to the gates. “I mean, I don’t think it’s going to blow up on our faces if we try to pick the lock.”

“But it might trigger a silent alarm,” Jason concludes, sounding resigned.

“How pissed do you think he’s gonna be?”

“With you? Very. With me, though? Astronomically.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes, “I don’t really feel like being lectured at three in the morning, how ‘bout you?”

“Think I’ll pass, too.” Dick should’ve been sleeping now. On his bed. Getting some rest before his shift tomorrow. He should’ve been sleeping, not sitting on a hard, dusty floor.

“Guess there’s no other way then, uh?” Jason says, like Dick is somehow supposed to know what the shit is going on in his head. Dick stares blankly at him until he huffs, annoyed, “we gotta call the Replacement, he’s the only one left.”

“No, wait, don’t wake him up.”If Dick remembers it right, Tim should be fast asleep by now, safely tucked in his room. No need to drag him into this disaster in the making. “God knows it’s an uphill battle to get him to actually sleep.”

Jason snorts. “Too late. He’s on his way.”

“What?” Son of a– ,“he was already awake, wasn’t he? Damn it. I really thought Alfred put something on his coffee.”

“Sounds healthy.”

A knock on the door echoes loudly on the small room, startling Dick. He glares at Jason snickering at his side, and calls, “we’re in here!”

The door swings open silently for once, revealing Tim still on the frankly way too coffee-stained sweatpants he found earlier in the cave and a baggy NASA shirt. Specifically, a NASA shirt that belongs to Dick. A NASA shirt he distinctly remembers going missing years ago. And when he says years, he means before Tim had even stepped inside the Manor. Which means–

“Oh my god, you little shit,” Jason is saying accusingly to Tim, “that shirt is mine!”

Dick hadn’t been doing anything at the moment, but he screeches to a halt all the same. In spirit, if you will.

“No way,” Tim crosses his arms, “I’ve had this shirt since forever.”

“Fuck off, Replacement,” Jason points a threatening finger, “I remember tearing that hole trying to climb down the window.”

“How dare you,” Dick finally gets his voice back, whirls on Jason, “how dare you, you hypocrite lying liar who lies.”

Jason gapes. “What the fuck.”

“That shirt was mine and you know it,” he can’t believe this. No, no, actually, he can. Easily. “I distinctly remember asking you if you’ve seen it, and then you looked me in the eyes and said I don’t know, I ain’t your housekeeper. And then you flipped me off.”

To be fair, Dick mostly remembered that day because it had been one of the few times he had been visiting the Manor before Jason, you know. Passed away. So yeah, he remembered it.

Now, though, seeing his shirt going from thief to thief, Dick isn’t feeling too charitable, death or no death.

He realizes Jason had gone quiet, looking as if trying to recall the incident. “I don’t really remember,” his brother finally says, “but it does sound like something I would do.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

“I mean,” Jason raises one of his hands up in a placating gesture, the other still cradling his stupid rocket launcher, “it’s not like you’re my favorite person either, Dickhead. ‘Sides, I wasn’t the only asshole back then.”

Shame and guilt rise in tandem, swallowing his gut in acid. Jason’s right. Dick has no right to sit here and call him out on being a jerk, not when he’d been just as guilty. He had been so caught up–

“Can we please skip the guilt trips?” Tim asks tiredly, “it’s almost four in the morning and your argument is moot anyway. The shirt is mine.”

It’s a testament for how tired he is that Dick doesn’t immediately restrains Jason when he goes silent. And, to be perfectly honest, that shirt is not freaking his.

“Jason, put the rocket launcher down,” Tim continues, unfazed, or maybe reaching the apathetic stages of lack of sleep, “you know how Alfred feels about weapons upstairs.”

*

“Why does everyone think I don’t sleep!” Tim glares at the ceiling, shifting so he can stretch on the bed more comfortably and kick Dick on the side, “I do sleep! All the time!”

“I don’t know,” Jason shrugs, wincing. He hides it well, but now that Bruce is paying more attention, Jason is leaning rather stiffly against his rocket launcher, standing as still as possible without being too obvious about it. Bruce sighs, he should’ve suspected; Jason has always been one to hide injuries. “Never seen it. Methinks the lady doth bullshits too much.”

“Jason,” Bruce begins cautiously, he doesn’t want to spook him. “Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”

It’s the wrong choice of words, it comes out more accusing than he intended, and Bruce can see Jason shutting down, face going blank. “I’m not hurt. And it wouldn’t be any of your business if I were anyway.”

Dick is giving him a sad, disappointed look. Completely unnecessary, Bruce knows he screwed this up. It seems to be a pattern when it comes to Jason. “If you sprained your ankle, there’s a perfectly good bed for you to sit.”

“Oh yeah? Good thing I ain’t hurt then.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Bruce sees Dick burying his head in his hands, ice pack forgotten beside him on the bed, already melting and soaking the covers.

“Jason,” Bruce tries again, taking a moment to find a better way to phrase it.

Before he can say anything else, Tim kicks the rocket launcher, forcing Jason to put his weight on both legs to regain his balance. He curses loudly, clutching the bedside table to stay upright, and glares at his brother. Dick still refuses to look up.

“Get on the damn bed, idiot,” Tim scoots over, making space, and pushes Dick further down to the foot of the bed, “you know Alfred will have our heads if he finds out you were standing on that ankle.”

Jason grumbles and huffs, but climbs on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re such an asshole, Replacement. This entire fucking family, I swear to god. All assholes. Except Cass. And Duke. Probably because it hasn’t been long enough for them yet. Fucking assholes.”

“Language,” Tim elbows him, “now all of you, shush. It’s my turn.”

*

Tim watches them argue with little interest. This shirt had been down in the Cave when he found it and thus, by the unspoken laws of the Manor, had been fair play.

It’s his now and Jason and Dick can both cry him a river.

Honestly, it’s just a shirt. A remarkably comfortable one, sure, but just a shirt. Besides, NASA shirts are all the rage now. Walmart probably sells them at a reasonable price.

Tuning back in the conversation, Tim catches the tail end of Jason’s retort and the beginning of Dick’s knee-jerk reaction to all things before. Crushing guilty and vitriolic regret. And it’s always worse in times like these, when Jason isn’t trying to kill anyone, when it almost feels like family.

Either way, Tim should stop them before it inevitably spirals into a real fight. Which would be so not good in such a tiny room and with Jason holding a rocket launcher. “Can we please skip the guilt trips?” He pauses, resigned. “It’s nearly four in the morning. And it doesn’t even matter anyway. This shirt,” he points down at his own chest, “is mine.”

Jason falls silent, and that’s not a good thing, but Jason is also thankfully very, very predictable, so Tim simply raises one eyebrow, “Jason, put that damn thing away,” he yawns, unimpressed by the rocket launcher aimed at his face, “you know how Alfred feels about weapons upstairs.”

He grumbles, muttering under his breath, but lowers the ridiculous thing back on his lap. Dick looks vaguely ill, scooting away from the rocket launcher. Tim supposes that’s fair, although he doubts it’s loaded. For a brief moment he entertains the idea of calling Jason’s bluff, but dismisses it in the end. Dick would probably have a stroke.

On that note, “how did you get a black eye?”

“Oh shit,” he raises a hand to gingerly touch the rapidly bruising skin, wincing, “is it that bad?”

“Yup.” Tim pauses, decides he doesn’t want to know, “now, are you two getting out today or…”

Dick and Jason scramble up, dusting themselves off. Cobwebs stick to their clothes, and something runs from where they had been sitting– Tim wrinkles his nose, figures it’s better not to mention it.

“How the two of you managed to break the doorknob is beyond me,” he comments as they pass him, “but somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“Whatever you say, Replacement,” Jason waves him off, stretching, “but damn, it’s good to be free.”

“You know what’s gonna be even better?” Dick asks, his question trailing off in a yawn, “sleeping in a real bed.”

“Shit, did you hear that?” Jason stops mid stretch, frowning, “shit, shit, someone’s coming.”

They all look at each other panicked. Tim doesn’t even know why he’s panicking, he’s done nothing wrong here besides letting himself be talked into helping these two morons out. Which he now sees was a terrible mistake, worse even, a rookie mistake. But maybe it’s being awake at 4am wandering an empty hallway that gives off this feeling, like he’s doing something he’s not supposed to do. It reminds him a little of the times he snuck out of his parent’s house after lights out to shadow Batman and Robin around.

Or maybe it’s the fact Jason is still carrying around the damn rocket launcher like a newborn baby. That definitely would count as a bad thing on Bruce’s point of view. And no matter what they might say, the man would certainly write Tim and Dick off as accessories to the crime. Well, they did learn of the crime after it was committed and they are kind of aiding the criminal in scaping.

Sighing, Tim lets himself be dragged back to the broom closet by a frantic Dick. He adds helping the criminal conceal the crime to the list. The door closes with a soft click just as the footsteps get closer. Whoever it is, probably Bruce by the heavy steps, turns the corner, and then walks past them. Somewhere still uncomfortably near, a door opens, then closes.

“He’s in the study,” Dick sobs, “and we’re stuck here again.”

“We’re never getting out of here,” Jason says, sitting down again, “one day Alfred will finally come clean here and find our decomposed bodies.”

“Gross,” Tim wrinkles his nose at the mental image, “come on. Let’s just pick the lock.”

“No!” They whisper-shout at the same time.

“What the fuck.”

“It’s booby-trapped,” says Jason.

“There’s silent alarms,” says Dick.

Oh right, all of his brothers are paranoid lunatics at heart, how could Tim have ever forgotten that. “This place looks like nobody used it since before either of us were born. Why, oh why, would B put it under surveillance?”

Silence. Jason hugs his rocket launcher closer, sharing a look with Dick. Great, and they’re a united front now. “Listen, fine. You don’t wanna pick the lock. Fine.” It’s always best not to contradict a crazy person, let alone two. “What do you suggest, then?”

“Living off spiders.”

“Call Damian.”

“One, gross. Two, I’d literally rather die.” He begins, “three, you all are useless to me.”

They need a plan, and they need it fast. Before one of those two finish spiraling into cabin fever. Looking around, Tim tries to think of it as any other mission. There’s a small window in the on the right wall, probably connecting to the adjacent room, which Tim thinks might be a bedroom. It was probably a leftover of some old renovation, it might’ve led outside once upon a time, but now it’s likely their only way out. It’s very small, Tim might go through it with little problem, Dick too, but Jason is too broad shouldered, he might get stuck. If only they could remove all the bars, it could give them just enough space.

Okay. They have an exit. All they need is way to get up there and the tools to deal with the bars. He turns to his brothers, “I think I can get us out. There’s a window behind that shelf.” He points at the glass visible between two boxes, “but I need some sort of ladder and a tool box.”

Apparently the prospect of a real plan is enough to shake them out of their stupor. Jason jumps to his feet, begins rummaging through the scattered boxes. Dick busies himself with pushing the shelf out of the way, clearing the path to the window. Satisfied, Tim begins digging inside the nearest box in search of anything useful.

By the time Dick manages to push the shelf out of the way, Jason has found a hammer and a phillips screwdriver. He did find a crowbar too, but that was quickly discarded and buried under a pile of old books. Deciding the boxes are sturdy enough, hopefully, to hold their weight, Tim piles them up in the best makeshift stairs he can make.

Is it wobbly? Yes. Are they going to fall and break their necks? Probably. But better be dead than ask Damian for help. The little demon would never let him live it down for the rest of their lives and probably in the afterlife too.

Once again tuning out his brothers, Tim begins the quickly climbing up the boxes. It’s more stable than he expected, so he starts unscrewing the metal bars–

*

“Of course it was stable!” Dick exclaims, throwing his hands up and then falling down on the bed, “we were holding it in place!”

“You weren’t even listening to us, you ungrateful–”

“I got us out, didn’t I?” Tim snaps, “god, everyone’s a critic. Can I go back to the story, please? I’d like to finish telling it before sunrise.”

“God, yes, please.”

*

Anyway.

The metal bars and the stained glass panels fall apart easily, as expected from such old, unused things. The space left looks wide enough to let them through, maybe. If they’re lucky. “Okay, I’m already up here, so let me go first.”

“Wait–”

Tim doesn’t wait. He hoists himself up, diving face first through the window. It gets him a mouthful of dust and sand, and then he’s free falling–

There’s a second of panic, in between falling and landing, where Tim recognizes waiting might’ve been a wiser course of action and that maybe he should have looked before jumping.

–right into a bed.

He had been right. It did lead to an old bedroom. The bed was covered in sheets, just like the rest of the furnitures, but it works to break the fall, even if a cloud of dust rises in the air when he lands, coating his lungs with filth.

Laughter bubbles up, a little hysterical, a little relieved.

“Are you okay?” Dick’s head appears through the hole, “are you hurt?”

“My wrist hurts a little, I think I sprained it when I tried to break the fall,” Tim shrugs, rolling off the bed, “but I’m fine, really.”

“Hold on, I’m coming through.”

Dick falls with a huff, his breath knocked out of him in the landing. He groans, “shit, that’s gonna bruise.”

“Cool, you’ll get a matching set,” Tim gestures his black eye, “but you might wanna make space, it sounds like Jason is on his way.”

And true enough, as soon as he had forced himself out of the bed and limped away towards Tim, a rocket launcher lands on the bed with a heavy thud, and then Jason appears. Although only half of him makes it through. He dangles, arms swinging uselessly, stuck in the window. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously?”

“Oh my god,” Tim wheezes, “tell me someone has a camera.”

“I feel so much better already,” Dick giggles.

“Oh come on,” Jason snaps, flipping them off with both hands, “a little help here? Assholes.”

To be fair, it only takes a little wiggling and a little pulling to get him out of there and into the dusty bed. By now the air is more dust bunnies and promises of allergies.

“Tell me it’s over now,” Jason says, then changes his mind, “no, no, no. No one say anything, it might jinx it.”

“Please leave,” Tim tells him, “you have an apartment, I know you do. Please.”

“Are you kicking me out, Replacement? Really?”

“You just put me through the most traumatic hour of my life and I don’t even know why. So yes, please.”

“What he means,” Dick intervenes, “is that–”

“All of you have a lot of explaining to do.” In the now open doorway, Bruce stands, looking like your regular angry father if your regular angry father was the Batman.

“Oh crap,” Jason says, and Tim wholeheartedly agrees.

*

“And the rest is history,” Tim says, yawning, and then turning to Jason, “I can’t believe all of this was because of your stupid rocket launcher.”

“Excuse me,” Jason sounds affronted, “Roxy has emotional value.”

“Your unhealthy attachment to that thing gave me a sprained wrist so excuse me for being a little salty.”

“Can you guys not fight for ten seconds, please,” Dick, in turn, sounds tired.

“I don’t think I need to say in how much trouble all of you are, do I?” Bruce finally says, gathering the attention of the three. He glances at his watch, it’s nearing five in the morning, then back up at the bed. Jason is laying with his leg propped up in a pillow, looking harried and tired and less antagonistic than before, Tim is at his side, curled up around a pillow and his injured wrist carefully cradled on his chest, and the story seems to have drained the last of his energy, as his eyes close for longer and longer periods of time. Dick is sprawled at the foot of the bed, laying sideways and currently wrestling a pillow out Jason’s grip.

Bruce looks at the scene in front of him, three of his children together at peace, or the closest thing to it they’ll ever get, and something inside him softens. Seeing them like this, getting along, no trace of masks or capes, it feels almost like a normal family.

It feels warm and golden.

Unwilling to disturb the fragile peace, he gets up from the armchair, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Dick, the more awake of them, asks, “aren’t you gonna yell at us?”

“As I said, you all know you are in trouble,” Bruce answers calmly, “but there’s going to be time for that tomorrow, at a more reasonable hour.” He suppresses a smile, “I am going to retrieve some blankets. It looks like you’re not going back to your rooms tonight.”

Dick looks around him, finding Tim already asleep and Jason yawning. He smiles, “you might be right. Thanks, B.”

Bruce nods, but as he leaves the room, a thought suddenly occurs to him, “oh, and Dick?”

A sleepy noise comes from the bed.

“You were all wrong.” Another inquisitive muttering, a little more awake now. “That shirt? It used to be mine. It was a special edition, confectioned after the moon-landing. You stole it from me.”

Shaking his head, Bruce prepares to leave, but a voice stops him just before the door closes, “I know, but you know the rules. If it’s down the Cave, it’s fair play.”

Laughter echoes quietly in the hallways at the Manor, bouncing off the walls and filling all the empty spaces.

*