#five minutes later: wait. If my hat is there than what am I wearing right now???? error 404

[keferon]

Snow bots au anyone? :D

They're back together a year later because it's snowing again❄️

All right! For context: I imagine them hanging out every winter in some kind of resort (a resort that Blurr owns. Because his bar business has expanded that much over time.)

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The Temptation of the Immortals (3)

Warnings: cursing, canon typical violence for the Percy Jackson series, spoilers for the Percy Jackson series, nightmares, the gods being absent parents, references to Greek Mythology, mentions of starvation and trauma.

“Reading is boring (Name).”  Alexander complained once he’d eaten his lunch and after you asked him to choose his book.  The sudden change in mood startled you – when you introduced yourself to him, the boy was so cheerful and he had spent twenty minutes showing you all of his toys.  He had explained which ones were his favourites and which ones he loved to cuddle with.

“Why do you think it’s boring?”

Alexander scuffed the toe of his shoe across the floor, “It just is.”

“Okay.”  You selected a book at random and opened to the first page with pictures, “How about you tell me what is happening in this picture?”  You asked, pointing to a picture of a boy walking a dog under a blue sky.

Alexander glared up at you, “I’m six not stupid!  The boy is walking a dog and there aren’t any clouds in the sky.  Then later in the book, the boy gets wet.”

You frowned, “How does the boy get wet?”

Alexander shrugged, “I don’t know.  He just does.”  When he finished speaking, Alexander decided to stare out of the window as if whatever was on the other side was more interesting than your conversation.

“The letters float off the page when you read, right?  That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek.”  The words that Annabeth spoke an eternity ago when she was explaining your place in the camp to you sounded in your mind as clear as if she were standing right next to you now.

“It’s a long shot but I wonder….”

“Do you have paper and a pen to write with?”

Clearly confused, Alexander nodded slowly and walked away from you.  You barely had enough time to figure out what he could do while he waited before the child returned clutching a writing book and a pen which he handed to you.

“This isn’t going to take me long,” you promised as you flipped open the book and began to copy the sentence out in ancient Greek.  “While I do this, do you have a favourite animal?”

Alexander nodded again and you smiled encouragingly at the boy.  You sat down and he mirrored your action, sitting cross legged opposite you.

“What’s your favourite animal?”

“I like dogs.”  The boy stated immediately with all the conviction a six-year-old could possess.  “They never lie and they always tell you how they’re feeling.  I wish we could get a dog but dad says no.”

“I wanted a pet when I was your age too but we didn’t have the space for one.”

“The place you lived in must’ve been tiny.”

“It was,” you agreed, knowing that Alexander’s understanding of the word tiny and yours were probably very different.  “We had enough space for my mum to buy ivy that lived in a pot plant so I looked after that instead.”

“What are you writing?”  The boy asked.

“Have a look,” you suggested and handed the book over to him while you fiddled with the pen.

“The boy is taking the dog for a walk outside.  He is wearing a red t-shirt, blue shorts, and a hat.  The dog’s fur is brown.”  Alexander read haltingly.

“That’s good!”  You praised when he finished the last sentence.  Inwardly, your heart sank.  “I can’t believe some of the Olympians are still repeating the same patterns of behaviour.  Is it a five-thousand-year-old habit?  Or an unwillingness to change?”

Then another, worse thought occurred to you, “How am I going to tell them?  They’re going to think I’m insane.”

“I did it!  I can read this!”  He cried happily.

The rest of the afternoon passed in the same way.  You would write a sentence from the book and Alexander would read it.  As the book progressed, Alexander grew more and more interested in reading and when he finished reading the sentences that you had written, he looked up at you as if to say, “Is that it?”

The door handle turned and Alexander jumped up happily.  The door cracked open and Alexander launched himself over to it as quickly as his feet could carry him, “Dad!  Dad!  I did it!  I read a book!”

Bryan must have been used to his son’s energy because he opened the door fully and scooped his son into a hug, “That’s my boy!  I knew you could do it!”

Feeling like you were intruding on a private moment, you climbed to your feet.  The movement drew father and son’s eyes to you, “It’s not often that I’m impressed.  You’ve done a good job today.”

“Why don’t you tell my dad what you think of him?”  Alexander recommended, resting his head on his dad’s shoulder.

A fog descended over your mind and all you could think about was telling Bryan how handsome he’d looked in his suit when you first met.  The fog felt invasive yet familiar and you bit down on your tongue in an effort to control yourself.  The sting of your teeth on your tongue sent a spark of pain through you and the fog cleared.  At the same time, you realised why the fog felt familiar and your heart sunk even further.

“I should be going,” you replied.  “It’s not fair if I leave Piper to close up the museum by herself again.”

Alexander was looking at you with wide eyes and you could feel his gaze on you even as you left the apartment and heard Bryan telling his son that he’d found a new school for him.  When you returned to the museum to find Piper locking up the doors a few minutes earlier than your usual closing time, you forced a smile and told her that Alexander was a bright kid.

“See?  I knew it would be all right!”  Piper crowed triumphantly.  “I do have good ideas!  Say it!  Say it!”

“You have good ideas, Piper.”  You admitted.

“And you should have more faith in me.”  Piper added as she linked her arm through yours.

“Piper, I trust you with the world and with my life.  Is that not good enough?”

“It’s more than good enough.”  She affectionately flicked you on the nose and grinned at the face you made.

You wished her a good night and then the two of you parted ways.  In your apartment, you stared down at the water streaming from the kitchen tap and into the sink.  Fumbling behind you, you grabbed your purse and pulled out a drachma.

“O Iris, Goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering.”  You prayed before flicking the coin into the stream, “Show me Chiron at Camp Half-Blood.”

For a moment, nothing changed.  Then the water shimmered and twisted becoming similar to a TV screen yet the image was still blurry.  Calling on your last shred of patience, you waited for the image to clear and when it did, you recognised the surroundings immediately and the occupant of the Big House.

“Hi, Dad.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon (not explicitly tagged for a surprise but nothing extreme).

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: We back at it again! Happy Tuesday.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. ��

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

‘When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue...I saw the world divided into people who had slept with somebody and people who hadn’t, and this seemed the only really significant difference between one person and another. I thought a spectacular change would come over me the day I crossed the boundary line.’

You read and reread the paragraph. You couldn’t help it. The first time you read that book, you just didn’t get the cynicism. There were still parts you couldn’t quite relate to. But that passage sank into you like a pebble in water. You felt changed already and after something so little.

You hadn’t seen Lee since Saturday. He had your number now and called at night. A few times, there was noise in the background; people, cars, life. You realised he must’ve been at a payphone, taking a moment away from his patrol. That was another thing about him; he felt so established, so wise, and that made you feel even less.

When the phone began to ring that night, you ignored it. And when it stopped, you picked up the receiver and dialed the only number you knew. Your mom picked up and you heard the sink running in the background. She was always busy when you called.

“Mom,” you said, “it’s me.”

“Oh, hi, dear,” she replied in her creaky tone, “how are you? Oh, is something wrong?”

“Um… I’m okay, I just wanted to call, I…” you thought of telling her about Lee but you weren’t really sure how. You weren’t even sure why you called her, only that you felt alone. “I miss you and daddy.”

“We miss you, too,” you heard her steps and her grunt as she stretched the cord and twisted off the faucet. “He’s been working hard down at the steel yard and he’s so proud. All the other men tell him to hush up when he brags about you.”

“Yeah? I… I’m working hard. Got an A on my last paper,” you played with the coiled cord.

“That’s great, dear,” she chimed, “are you sure you’re okay? You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you said, “that’s all. Studying and all that.”

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want you going out late to one of those parties,” she tittered, “Noreen’s son got arrested at one of those and spent a night in jail. They spent their mortgage to get him out.”

“No, no, I don’t, um, go to parties,” you assured, not adding that no one would even think to invite you to one.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I’ll have to call back tomorrow,” she sighed as you heard the door clamour, “your father’s so intent on hurting himself these days.”

“Okay, um, it’s alright, I’ll talk later, love y--” the phone went dead and you listened to the dull tone.

You put the receiver back in the cradle and tapped your fingers on your lips. You picked up your book and sat back on your bed. You couldn’t focus on the words though as your mind lingered on the familiar sounds of home. You missed it terribly. You just wanted to take the bus and go hide in your old childhood bed.

The phone rang again. You knew it wasn’t your mother. You left it and when it silenced, there was only a second before it started again. You waited until the next lull and moved the receiver off the cradle and let the low hum rise from the speaker. You kept it off the hook and closed your book.

You didn’t want to deal with any of that today. Not Lee, not Plath, not the plague of woes that roiled your stomach. You flopped onto your bed and pulled your pillow over your head. You weren’t going to think again until your morning lecture.

📚

You sat near the front of the hall with your elbow on the small fold-out desk. You swirled your pen lazily in the air as you listened to the professor expound on the flaws of historical revisionism. He wasn’t the type to entertain questions or comments, he merely ranted and expected you to note those few words of value amidst the sea of thoughts.

You yawned, exhausted despite an early night. You felt empty and drained those last four days. Ever since…

You didn’t think about it. Tried not to even as it tugged at your mind. When the memory managed to poke through, you felt the same tingle between your legs and your cheeks burned in humiliation. 

How had you let it happen? How could you let yourself do that?

You were so confused by it all. How could it be wrong if Lee said it was right? He was older, he was a cop, and he knew much more than you. You never even kissed a boy before him and he was so confident in everything he did that he must be doing it all right. 

Besides, after everything, if you refused him, you’d have only been leading him on and using him for his kindness, even if you didn’t realise what you were doing. Because what you did know was that he was a man and you were a woman and that he was doing nice things for you. And you accepted them all. The least you could do was bide his affection. That was the age old exchange, was it not?

“Next week, we’ll review chapters five and six,” the professor’s tone piqued as his ramble subsided, “I expect a class discussion and you can expect ten percent of your mark to be evaluated from your contribution and I will know if you just ‘skimmed’ the introduction.’

The class grumbled as he dismissed you and you stood slowly, stretching the cramp from your leg. You packed up your bag and hauled it on your shoulder. You had a gap between that class and your afternoon publishing class. You trailed out behind the flow of chattering students but found many of them lowered their voices as they came out into the hall.

There voices fell to whispers as they entered the hall. The sight of a brown hat assured you of the reason. Sheriff Bodecker stood against the painted brick and watched the students pass by, each eyeing him nervously and some chuckling under their breaths nervously. You tried to hide behind a taller student but your name tripped you up.

Despite your efforts to maintain your invisibility, he’d spotted you and you knew you could run away. Several of your peers craned around to watch you, no doubt suspecting some trouble on your part. You dragged your feet and stepped out of the tide of fleeing co-eds to stand along the wall with Lee.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Young lady,” he said staunchly and kept his eyes on the other students, nodding at them darkly as they passed.

He waited until the hall was empty before he turned on you. You fidgeted and caught your bag as it slipped from your shoulder. Your thoughts wrinkled above your brow and you stared at his brown leather shoes.

“How did you… find me here?”

He was silent as he reached in his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and showed you a print-out of your schedule.

“Easy enough,” he tapped his badge nonchalantly, “I was worried. You didn’t answer last night.”

“I fell asleep early,” you said weakly, “morning lecture, you know?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “not that early.”

“I’m sorry, I was sleep--”

“You’re no good at lying and I don’t like you telling me fibs,” he growled, “you playin’ around with me, honey.”

“No, I…” you blinked as he folded the paper back into his pocket and pushed his jacket back to settle his hand on his pistol.

“Did you forget who I am? What I am?” he arched a brow darkly.

“N-No, sir, I… I got schoolwork and--”

“You can’t stop and talk to me for ten minutes?” he challenged, “you hurt me, honey. I’m out on patrol all night, in danger, and the only thing I got to look forward to is hearing your sweet voice.”

“I, um, I… er, I’m confused,” you eked out, “I don’t know… I…”

“Honey,” he leaned in and his hot breath glossed over you as he lowered his voice, “you know what this is, we both know what a bad girl you were on Saturday.”

“I didn’t…” you swallowed and choked on your voice, “I gotta go to the library--”

You tried to turn away but were pulled back by his tight grip on your arm. He forced you against the wall and knocked the wind from you as your bag tumbled from your arm. You gasped and stared up at him in fright. In that moment, he seemed bigger than ever; taller, thicker, and strong as hell. Stronger than you for sure.

“You don’t go nowhere ‘less I say you do,” his other hand shifted on his gun, “you got me?”

“What are you-- I didn’t… why are you being mean?”

“Me? Honey pie, you been avoiding me and I’m mean?” he snarled.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, I’m just... busy,” you whimpered as he squeezed your arm so tight it throbbed, “you’re hurting me.”

“You’re hurting me,” he hissed, “you think I got time to be comin’ down here on duty to find you?”

“You didn’t have to--”

“I did,” he barked, “I had to make sure you weren’t hussyin’ around with any other boys, like I found you last week.”

“I told you, that wasn’t--”

“Shhhhh,” his hand flew to your chin and forced your mouth shut, “I don’t got the time for this, honey. I’ll be around tonight and you’ll wear a pretty dress for me, won’t you?”

You clenched your jaw and nodded stiffly as his thumb toyed with your lip. He smiled and the tension left his grasp.

“Good girl,” he drew away and squared his shoulders, “you be ready at six and don’t keep me waitin’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you croaked.

“Mmm,” he nodded with a smirk, “you know, I think I do prefer ‘sir’.” He bent and kissed your lips before you could turn away. You let him and he stood straight again and adjusted his belt, “six o’clock, honey pie.”

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

I decided to watch the Walker pilot so you don’t have to. #1

I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I’m doing this and the more I put it off the less I’ll want to do this. So. Let’s start.

The fist thing we see is Jared Padalecki, em Walker, driving. He’s vaguely smiling and there’s the sun behind him. He seems happy. He’s driving a truck, for some reason my mind goes to Twilight. I’d rather watch that. At least there are vampires (not dressed like clowns) there. Anyway. Walker is meeting someone. He’s meeting his wife! “Look at you!” she says. The camera makes us look at him. He looks like this

I am unsure whether we’re supposed to see this as sexy or cool. It looks frankly ridiculous. I don’t know if I’m just not American enough to appreciate the aesthetic of this. But I didn’t go through 15 seasons of Americana-in-British-Columbia for nothing. If a character appeared like this on Supernatural, it wouldn’t be presented seriously. It would be played for a chuckle or in a light-hearted way at least. Not even Dean Winchester would find this hot.

The Padaleckis tell something to each other. Apparently he needs to go home with the kids and his parents because it’s game night. My mind immediately goes to Game Night the episode and I am sad now. But Walker lifts my mood in its own weird way.  He doesn’t know the rules because every time she tells him the rules, he blacks out. I would make a fun quip about this, but the truth is that I relate to him a lot right now because I blacked out during the entire scene. I’m not sure what they said other than the game thing because I wrote it here. I already forgot the rest.

Anyway. What we’re supposed to get from this scene that they’re Very In Love (see that soft warm light?), and that he’s anxious because he’s not great at being a father because he’s shit at games apparently, but his wife is like ~don’t worry so much~ because she’s a kind, understanding wife. He tells her to be safe, because the Texan countryside is dangerous or something. She needs to stay on a route he approved for some reason. Is she traveling with supersoldier serum in her car? Is Hydra going to murder her? [cue the Marvel snipers shooting me to death because they don’t want Marvel to be associated to this]

Later, everyone is having fun playing fake monopoly, but Walker (whose mannerism is just Jared, he’s not even trying) is apparently too stupid to understand a game for kids. Plot twist, this is anti-cop propaganda because it says cops are dumb.

“Et tu Brute” Jared says when the kids point out he broke a rule so they get an extra turn. I thought I was safe from hearing Jared speak Latin! I thought I was safe! I am never safe!

Emily (Gen) suddenly texts him “SOS. Answer” which is OMINOUS! Oh my god! Aren’t you feeling the tension. The rest of the family keeps playing fake monopoly. Someone throws dice. Are we supposed to go “oh! The dice are ~symbolic because someone’s playing dice with her life” or have I been watching too much good tv.

She is running somewhere in the countryside, wearing a white shirt (is this the cowboy lady equivalent of the Wife Nightgown?). She says something is not right. He’s worried. Then he hears gunshot and her scream. He does the Alarmed Jared face, presses lips together and does a Upset Jared face.

Then he goes out, tries to call her again, and again, does a Jared Upset Sniff--

Oh! We actually see her! She’s alive, but she’s been shot in the stomach. Her white shirt is definitely the cowboy lady equivalent of the Wife Nightgown! Ah the blood coming from the stomach! How terrible! Her phone is ringing but she cannot reach it. She is definitely alive right now, though. She’s breathing heavily because of the wound, which is breathing, which is the opposite of being dead.

He decides that she’s dead, and lets out the already infamous manly scream of anguish.

It would be sad if it wasn’t that literally one second ago we saw her wounded but alive. Her turning out alive in the season finale or so will shock everyone. Nobody will have seen it coming. Who wrote this? They should have just shown the ringing phone and her bloody hand/side, making the audience assume she was dead, instead of showing her breathing. Now the audience is gonna assume she didn’t actually die, and wonder “why didn’t he call someone or went looking for her” but apparently Jared’s characters have forgotten that, like, ambulances are a thing. Jared’s manly screams of anguish are more important than common sense.

I’m not going to say anything about the manly scream of anguish. I’m not going to say anything about the manly scream of anguish. I’m n

We’re just 4 minutes in, guys. Why am I doing this?

Eleven months later, says the screen.

It’s night, outside a house. The son is waiting for him. The daughter doesn’t think he’s coming. On the porch there are two men, one is his brother and one is apparently his former partner, now new boss. He’s dressed like you’d expect a normal person to be dressed in a casual Texan night, hat and tie and all. If you are law enforcement in Texas and don’t wear a cowboy hat at any moment, you will be executed. That’s what the death penalty in Texas is for.

Somebody arrives, but to the kids’ disappointment is some dude whose function is to tell us the men’s names. The brother is Liam, the cop dude I forgot.

Walker is being sad on the back of his truck and drinking alcohol, which is the only way television can express a man having trauma. Holy shit - he reminisces of his wife like this is some emotional Lord of the Rings scene in a place where Elves live except this is not the Lord of the Rings and is just ridiculous, look

She’s seen running towards the gazebo, then she turns

This is exactly shot like the scene where Arwen has a vision of her son. Flowy hair and all. I cannot take this seriously.

He smiles sadly. Then a cop car arrives.

Mexican Lady Cop(TM), whose function in the story is to be a Mexican Lady Cop(TM) asks for his licence since he’s drinking alcohol in a public place.

“You ask so nicely” drunk Walker says. Ew. “Yeah, they train the girls special” Oh! Can you see? She is the Feminist Icon who Takes No Shit from the Dude! I’m so excited. I am slowly losing the will to live.

She drives him home on the police car. His legs don’t fit. At least this is realistic.

He does exposition in the car, including “I needed to visit a ghost instead”. There-there was no need to say it. What’s the demographic they’re aiming for? Five year olds? Do they have to spell everything out loud?

“It’s been a while since I had an actual conversation” he says, which supposedly explains why he’s making awkward exposition, but it’s just bad writing. At least they acknowledge it’s bad writing.

She figures he’s law enforcement coming back from an undercover mission from some drunken ramble he makes. This is worse than the Sherlock phone cable port thing.

She says she just got promoted from state trooper, ehe she will work with him wink wink nudge nudge. Is she going to be a cop-buddy-character slash love interest except when they’re almost about to realize they’re into each other, his wife comes back and draa~ama? I can already see it.

He goes home, makes some Jared grunts, and falls asleep on the couch.

Next morning, he goes out and jogs to where he left the truck. He puts on a cowboy hat which is supposed to be an artistic shot.

I’m slowly dying. He makes some Jared Deep Breaths, at least this made me laugh.

Wait, he’s now wearing a black hat. He’s in mourning, see? What.

He drives to his father’s ranch. His father is Super Not Impressed. It’s awkward. They took about horses. Mitch Pileggi is thinking that at least the other show was more exciting and there was Jensen Ackles in it.

He gets into his parents’ house and the dogs run to him, he does the Jared Dog Chuckle. He hugs his mom. He hugs his son - “August, my boy!” he says, like a normal person his age says.

He hugs his brother and they joke-wrestle and he says “I’m still the big brother” and did I mention I’m dying inside. I just can tell this is SUPPOSED to be reminiscent of Dean and Sam’s first meeting at Stanford in the pilot except Jared is the big brother now. Ew.

We learn that the brother is a DA and gay. All pilots suffer from Forced Exposition Syndrome but it’s like this isn’t even trying.

He goes to work and hugs (very manly hug of course) his friend-now-boss, who is called James. James asks him if he’s good and he’s like yeah I’m good, which our I’m Fine Lie Moment #1. Some things never change.

Enter the case of the week - a cop offered roadside assistance but he was assaulted. We’re already starting with a “Oh No Poor Cop :( Someone Doesn’t Like Cops And Gets Violent” plot. Yay.

Ta-da! Mexican Lady Cop appears, cowboy hat and all. James says she’s Walker’s new partner. My heart cries while Walker says “figured you’d be a guy” and she replies “so did my mom”. The feminism is so strong :’) She’s such a strong female character :’) I’m so happy :’)

Then Walker makes such a quintessential Jared thing with his mouth that I need to stop this here and take a break.

It’s been 13 minutes. So much still to go. I’m bored. Why am I doing this.

[whoacanada]

Zimbits - Bartender!Jack + NHL!Bitty AU

Prompt: Retired NHL player Jack Zimmermann takes ownership of a sports bar in Pittsburgh and accidentally falls for the Penguins’ (closeted) new left winger.

A/N - just the start, I’d like to get around to more of this; the basic idea was an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia AU, but I couldn’t manage to make everyone that terrible so Jack owns and operates a gay sports bar and starts crushing on one of his patrons.

“Can’t believe you’ve owned this place since ’89.” Jack coughs, waving the dust away from his face. “Did you ever come back after we moved home?”

It’d be disingenuous to say Jack had been expecting anything other than cigars and whiskey when his father had invited him on a trip down to Pittsburgh to see Mario and glad-hand some Penguins sponsors. In fact, he’d kind of been looking forward to sulking and getting shit-faced, not limping around a condemned building dodging roaches and rats.

“It was an investment opportunity. That was the trend back then, famous athletes buying up restaurants and clubs — I had big plans for this building. Then your mother got pregnant and I realized I didn’t really give two shits about running a nightclub.”

“Realized you were pretty lazy, huh?”

As Bob laughs, Jack picks at the peeling, lacquered bartop, trying not to imagine how many decades of grime he’s just collecting under his nail, the situation made even more disgusting in such close proximity to the glittering gold championship ring his father had insisted he wear to their lunch meeting with the Penguins front-office suits. Jack flicks the gunk away as Bob levels him with a weighty look, hands braced in the air as if outlining a play and not offering a tour of a cobweb-filled dive.

“Here’s my thought,” Bob says. “The bar. It’s yours.”

Jack leans against the counter, taking some weight off his braced leg, and asks, “What’s mine?”

“This place,” Bob gestures around the room. “The whole building. It’s just sitting here, empty, the bar, the liquor license, there’s apartments and office space upstairs, we’d just need to do some renovations and —“

Jack can’t help himself. He barks a laugh and says, “I’m not moving to Pittsburgh.”

“How many times have you and I talked about opening a sports bar? I’d wanted to get this place fixed up so it’d be ready when you retired, but since the final — you could make it a gay bar, even, if you wanted!” Bob says quickly, offering another awkward olive branch. “A gay sports bar. I wouldn’t care.”

“A gay sports bar. In Pittsburgh,” Jack echoes, reaching for a chirp to defend himself, but he closes him mouth as he realizes a sports bar run by a Zimmermann might not be a terrible investment idea. “The building needs a ton of work,” Jack settles. “I just saw a rat.”

“That was a mouse,” Bob dismisses, not bothering to look at the rat still clearly in view. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Got a dollar?”

Jack pats his pockets, finds a spare looney and hands it over. Bob doesn’t hesitate, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket to exchange for the coin.

“Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of,” Bob looks around helplessly. “I actually don’t know what they call this place now. A Bar?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Jack swallows against the tightness in his throat, holding the deed carefully in his hands. “Thanks, Dad.”

Bob brings Jack in for a loose hug and they both ignore the soft squeaking coming from the backroom.

Five Years Later

There’s a man examining the announcement board in the vestibule, and Jack knows that posture: the forward hip cant, thick thighs, a small but definite bubble butt — guy’s a hockey player, and he has been for some time.

“Hey. Hi.”

Blondie spins around at Jack’s address. Not quite startled, but something close enough that Jack feels a twinge of guilt. “You interested in playing in our beer league? You look like you might know your way around a rink.”

The man quickly looks at his chest, as if expecting to find something displayed, but relaxes immediately. Jack fights a grin, he was once old hat at wandering into public spaces decked out in identifiable team merch.

“Bitty.” The man squares up to offer his hand; his accent is warm and distinctly southern, not at all what Jack was expecting. “You can call me Bitty.”

“Oh, with a nickname like that, you have to play, now, no excuses,” Jack gives Bitty’s arm a firm shake, surprised at how complementary his grip is; not just an overcompensating bro who’s walked into the wrong club.

“If only I had the time,” Bitty placates wryly. “Is this place new?”

“Been here a few years, but not long. How about you? Are you ‘new’? In town, I mean.”

“Moved for work,” Bitty’s smile is timid, eyes darting around the room looking for other patrons, up at the memorabilia and the various pennants. “First year. Slowly learning the area.”

Jack doesn’t miss the way Bitty’s eyes linger on the Pride flag draped from the second floor railing, but Bitty doesn’t mention it, and Jack isn’t in the business of prying.

“Let me be the first to welcome you to The Bar.”

“I saw that outside, do you not have a name?”

“We weren’t creative. The owner didn’t realize he was filling in the wrong line on the business license so we are literally called ‘The Bar’.”

“That’s actually pretty solid,” Bitty laughs, the sound lifting Jack’s mood easily. “I’ll have to make sure I come back and patron your establishment at a reasonable hour.”

“What you aren’t interested at getting sloshed before noon?”

Bitty laughs, and Jack is enough of an adult to recognize he’s got a tiny bit of a crush.

______

True to form, Bitty slowly becomes a feature of Jack’s early afternoons. The first few weeks, he does little more than quietly purchase a single domestic beer before tucking himself away in a corner booth, hunched over his phone, ball cap pulled low for discretion. Jack gives him space, and aside from a few curious regulars, Bitty is little more than another closeted young man seeking quiet sanctuary.

That is, until, hockey kicks up and Mario hooks Jack up with season tickets beside the bench. It’d taken time for Jack to get comfortable with being in an arena again, especially without the ability to step onto the ice himself, but he’s acclimated and learned to appreciate his new lot in life. He can be happy for his success and mourn the end of his career with equal measure.

(Doesn’t hurt he still gets asked for autographs on the regular.)

Bittle, the new forward traded out of Columbus, spins to whip the puck between Lundqvist’s thighs and the score is 3-2 with a minute left in the third. Jack stands to cheer with the crowd as Bittle’s pulled into a celly with his line mates, and the new angle gives Jack a good look at the man’s sunny face, complete with a familiar, bright smile and missing canine. Jack’s heart leaps into his throat when he realizes Bittle is ‘Bitty’, and Jack can’t help but cheer louder.

________

After the game, Jack does his homework. Pulls up stats pages and articles on Eric Bittle. Looking to link the quiet hottie from his bar with the energetic man he saw tonight on the ice. If Jack wasn’t in love before, he absolutely is after watching highlights from Bittle’s time in Columbus.

The next time Jack finds Bitty slipping into the bar, probably between practice and a good nap, Jack makes his move; filling a pint glass, wedging an orange slice on the rim, and adjusting his shirt before striding to the corner booth as easily as one can with a titanium femur.

“On the house,” Jack says, setting down the glass gently. “Choice goal, Tuesday. Great bounce.”

Bitty’s grateful smile falters, turning into something guarded.

“What goal?” Bitty asks, voice steady, and Jack’s immediately alerted to his misstep. Jack casts a careful eye around the room and doesn’t find anyone watching, kicking himself for not thinking this through. He’s used to playing this game with guys who aren’t quite comfortable, who might be visiting with the wrong people, but he hasn’t had to do the closeted-pro-athlete dance in a while.

“You know, I must have been mistaken.”

“Happens all the time. Very sweet of you, though.” Bitty apologizes and pushes away the beer, but Jack waves him off. It’s the least Jack can do for calling the guy out.

“I should have known,” Jack tries to recover. “You’ve still got all your chiclets. But, between you and me, Bittle’s a spitfire, eh? Crazy soft hands. I’d like to meet him someday.”

Jack whistles low, rapping his knuckles on the table before turning back to the bar, moving slowly enough he catches the way Bitty’s cheeks flare pink at the compliment.

About thirty minutes later, Jack, half focused on counting down the till, nearly misses Bitty’s exit. He looks up to offer a parting wave, and Bitty returns the gesture, flashing a shy, incomplete smile; one canine missing on the left side.

________

“Anything new to report? Sales look good, think you might be able to take some time off and visit your poor parents?”

Jack slides open a window to let some air into his bedroom, not for the first time wishing he’d taken the chance to tear out a wall and convert a corner of the top floor into a balcony. There’s still time — his father never seems to wary of giving Jack renovation loans — but Jack loves his condo and hates the idea of relocating again, even temporarily.

“New distillery opened, cut a deal on some local gin. We’re working on drink specials, if you have any ideas for names I’m open,” Jack eases onto the windowsill and looks down at the line of people waiting to get into the bar. “And I met someone. Think he might be a hockey player.”

“No shit? Beer-league?”

“NHL.” Jack corrects, an edge of caution in his tone he knows his father won’t misinterpret. “Started coming around a few months ago, gave me a fake name. Went to a game last week, scored right in front of me.”

“Well, you going to tell me who or am I going to have to guess?”

“He’s keeping to himself,” Jack holds the curtain steady to catch sight of a particularly flashy person in a glittering teal gown, texting Holster to snag a photo for the bar’s Instagram. “Don’t go hunting.”

“Well, if he needs any help you let me know.”

“What could you do?”

“I don’t know. Talk to . . . someone. I guess.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement.” Jack placates, smiling at the saucy photo Ransom texts back immediately of Holster lifting their favorite Drag Race runner-up above his head like something out of Dirty Dancing.

“So.”

“Mmm?”

“Does this mean you’ve got a little boyfriend, again?”

Jack leans out over the railing and tries to see if the universe has blessed him with a sighting of his favorite new Left Winger. Sadly, it’s Saturday evening and the Penguins are in Dallas, so no Eric tonight. 

“Working on it.” Jack offers, rapping his knuckles lightly against the window sill and trying not to think about the way Bittle’s face lights up when he sees that Jack is working. “Think I might really have a shot at something.”

“Well, you know what Wayne always says.”

“I do,” Jack breathes, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, taking in his one-of-a-kind view of the city. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Once he gets back.”

“ — You know, I’ve got the game on right now. I bet you $1000 I can tell who you’ve got the hots for. You have a specific type — ”

“Papa.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

“But it’s the kid we just got from the Blue Jackets, isn’t it. Bittle? You always like the fast ones — ”

“Goodnight, Papa.”

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Spring Thaw - 2

Spring Thaw:  A Bucky Barnes Fanfic

Spring Thaw Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  2046

Warnings: nothing this chapter.

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes hates winter.  He always looks for the first signs of the ice thawing and new life growing.  When that desire for the end of winter brings to him the god of the spring thaw, he discovers a brand new reason to get through winter.

Chapter 2

Bucky arrived at the movies twenty minutes before he had arranged to meet you and then proceeded to mentally curse himself out the entire time because of how eager it made him look.  He was just considering leaving and coming back again so he could maybe come off as fashionably late when you appeared behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He jumped and spun around, instantly going into fight mode, and when he saw your slightly bemused expression, he instantly relaxed.  You were wearing another warm winter coat that looked impossibly spring-like.  This one was sky blue with daisies printed on it as if they were polka dots.  Your hat, scarf, and gloves were in a darker shade of blue, and on the side of your beanie was a crochet daisy that matched the ones on your coat.  “Hey, you’re early,” he said.

“So are you,” you said.

Bucky smiled sheepishly and ran his hand through the back of his hair.  “Yeah.  It’s been a while and I didn’t want to be late.”  He held out a bouquet of different colored tulips for you.  “I got you these.”

“Oh my,” you said, taking them and inhaling deeply.  “These are so out of season.  They must have cost a fortune.”

Bucky shrugged.  The bouquet did cost significantly more money than when he’d last bought a girl flowers, but as that was in 1943, he didn’t think it was fair to compare.  “It wasn’t so bad.  And I knew you’d like them.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek.  Another first for this new life he had.  It felt like a static shock and he flinched a little, and then hoped to god you didn’t notice because he wanted there to be more of that.  He wanted that kind of physical affection that had been withheld for so long.  “I love them,” you said.  “Thank you.”

Bucky turned back toward the cinema and then debated what his next move should be.  He had the tickets.  Did he offer you his arm or just start walking?  There were so many new rules about dating and he realized he didn’t know any of them.  Did you hold doors and pull out chairs anymore?  Who paid for things?

While he was thinking, you slipped your hand into his and pulled him toward the cinema.  “Come on, slowpoke,” you said.

The warmth from your skin seemed to radiate out from you so that he could feel it through both his and your gloves.

“Do we need to buy tickets?”  You asked when you entered the building.

“I’ve got them,” he said.

You took off your gloves and shoved them in your coat and looked up at him.  “Then let me buy the candy.”

“Now that hardly seems fair,” Bucky said.  “The tickets were cheap.  You’ll have to mortgage your house for candy.”

You snorted.  It was an adorable sound but you quickly covered your face in embarrassment.  “Oh my god,” you mumbled.

Bucky laughed and rubbed your arm.  “That was cute, don’t worry.”

You shook your head.  “I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that,” you said.  “So now I’m gonna buy candy so I can pretend it never happened.”

He chuckled and followed you to the counter as you bought popcorn, jolly ranchers, and a couple of sodas before the two of you headed into the theater.  It was strange how familiar it felt to be on a movie date.  Like muscle memory.  He sat down in the assigned seat and you put your coat on your lap with the popcorn sitting in his.  There was the awkward start where you aren’t sure if you should be touching or not - not that there was much choice in such a confined space.  There was an accidental hand touch when both of you went for popcorn at the same time.  Then you snuggled into him during the sappy parts and even though having you pressed against him felt alien to him.  It felt familiar and comfortable and he put his arm around your shoulders and held you in a casual way he hadn’t done to anyone since before he was sent off to war.

It was dark when you both came out of the theater with your arm tucked in the crook of his.  “Do you want to get a bite to eat?”  He asked.

“I would love it.  Just something simple though,” you said.

He nodded and the two of you began walking down the street together.  “Thank you for this, Bucky,” you said as the two of you walked along.  “I never do this.”

“I’m pretty out of practice too,” Bucky admitted.

“Why is that?”  You asked.  “You seem like a natural.  Not to mention - you’re very handsome.”

Bucky looked at you, once again not sure if you were being completely honest with him or not.  Not just about not recognizing him, but about any of it really.  Questioning his reality had become second nature.  He was used to being lied to and used.  He was used to things being taken from him.  “You really don’t know who I am?”  He asked.

You stopped walking, a little startled, and looked him up and down.  “I don’t meet too many people, I know we haven’t met.”

“No,” Bucky said, shaking his head.  “I’m the winter soldier?”

“Winter…?”  You said, furrowing your brow.  “You control winter?”

Bucky laughed.  “No.  What?”

“Oh,” you said, relaxing a little.  “I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“Captain America’s friend?”  He asked, only to be met with the same look of confusion.  “The Avengers?”

“I’m so sorry,” you said.  “I don’t keep up with current popular culture.”

“You don’t know about the people disappearing and then the fight and them showing up five years later?”  Bucky asked.

“I mean… I know they all went away and came back, but I wasn’t…” you trailed off.

“Captain America?  Iron Man?  Thor?”

Finally, a glimmer of recognition reached your eyes and you smiled.  “You know Thor?”

“I mean, a little.  He’s a nice guy,” Bucky said.

“I know,” you said.  “He’s really funny.  Likes to fight a lot though.”

“Wait…” Bucky said.  “Do you know Thor?  Like you’ve met him?”

“Yes!  I’ve met him.  It was a long, long time ago,” you said, nodding enthusiastically.  “Are the gods… are we showing ourselves again?”

Bucky blinked at you.  “What do you mean ‘we’?”

You looked around and took his hand tugging him along.  “We should go somewhere to talk.”

He walked with you until you found a diner and the two of you ducked inside and slipped into a booth by the window.  You put your coat with your flowers beside you on the seat and neither of you said anything until the orders had been placed.

“It was easier back before,” you said as you began to play with the little tubs of half-and-half on the table.

“What was?”  Bucky asked.  “I don’t know what’s going on right now?”

“I’m a god, Bucky,” you said.

Bucky laughed.  He wasn’t even sure why because he knew a god.  He knew and had experienced far stranger things than gods.  But here, sitting in a diner with you, the thought just struck him as absurd.  “What?”

“Back before, when people were primitive and didn’t understand how things worked, we just walked with the mortals,” you said, answering a question he never asked as you looked out the window.  You turned your attention back to him and lay your palms flat on the table.  “I don’t know how to start the story.”

Bucky shook his head.  “The beginning?”

“That goes back to before I even was,” you said.  “And I don’t have all the story.  From what I understand, when the universe was born, the worlds were formed from a central point where all matter was one.  And then it exploded out in a mess of matter and energy.  Some of that energy you and I would call magic.  Some words, like Asgard and Olympus, were drenched in it…”

“Woah, hold up,” Bucky said.  “Olympus is real?”

“You’ve met Thor but you doubt the existence of the Greek Gods?”  You asked with your eyebrow raised.

“Right, okay,” Bucky said.  “Go on.”

“The magic on Earth is weaker and so the gods here are also weaker.  We came to be when people pray for us, even if that’s just a muttered hope, like “oh god let me pass this test,” you explained.

“So you’re telling me that there might be a god for the red light changing?”  Bucky asked.

You nodded.  “Oh yeah, they’re doing quite well for themselves.”

“That's…”  Bucky said and shook his head as he tried to absorb it.  “Not the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard,” he settled on.  “So what are you?”

“The spring thaw,” you said.

“What?  Like Persephone?”  Bucky asked.

“Well, no,” you said.  “For starters, she lives on Olympus and she’s way more powerful than I am.  And she covers all over Spring.  I’m just the part where the ice melts.  I was way stronger back before industrial farming.  People prayed to see the ice receding.  Now, it still happens but not with as much need.  Oh and also, when Persephone isn’t doing her thing, she has somewhere she goes.”

“What?  What does that mean?”  Bucky asked.  “Where do you go?”

You shrug. “I’m just not.”

“Not what?”

“Not anything,” you said.  “I’m here when people start wishing for the end of winter, and I’m gone when they stop.”

Bucky furrowed his brow and nodded.  “Would you believe me if I said I know how that feels?”

“Really?”  You asked.  “How?”

The waiter came over and placed their orders in front of them.  Bucky took a drink of his black coffee and wished it was something a little harder.  Not that alcohol would actually do anything.  “I guess I better start from the beginning too.”

As the two of you ate your meals, Bucky unloaded everything.  From when he was born, to going to war, to being captured by HYDRA and experimented on, not just once but twice.  About how they brainwashed him and had him commit unspeakable acts, and when they weren’t getting him to do these heinous things, they would freeze him, so that every time he woke he had no idea who he was or where he was or even what year it was.  How he’d broken out of it and had to adjust to life on the run 60 years after the last time he had control of his body.  How that had ended up going to shit and he’d opted to go on ice again because even that was better than living with what he had in his head.  How they managed to get HYDRA out and he was just settling into life again when Thanos happened and he’d just stopped existing.

The food was gone by the time he was done with the story and he was on his third cup of coffee.  He’d worry about staying up, but the caffeine would pass out of his system soon enough and besides, he didn’t sleep that great anyway.

You had listened intently, never interrupting, but the expression on your face told him how horrified and sad the story made you.  “... and then the Avengers stopped being a thing and I tried to cancel out some of my bad with a friend and then I moved here.”

You reached over and took his hand.  “I’m so sorry all that happened to you,” you said earnestly.  “And I can see why we were drawn to each other.”

“Why is that?”  Bucky asked.

“I bet you aren’t a big fan of the cold, huh?”  You asked.

He smiled and shook his head.  “No, you could say that.”

“Were you hoping for some sign of the thaw?”  You asked.  He smiled and nodded.  “And there I was.  I probably felt it too.”

“I’m glad you did,” he said.

“I’d like to see you again,” you said.  “Would that be alright?”

“How will that work if you’re only going to be here for such a short time?”  Bucky asked.

“Well,” you said thoughtfully. “I guess we’ll have to enjoy the brief time we have?”

// NEXT

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - Chapter 15

It’s Monday and as promised the new chapter of the adventures of east station is here. This one is angsty. Our Aelin is dealing with the aftermath of her nearly death at the airport fire. She tries to be brave but fails.

Oh, yeah, Dorian is a cinnamon roll.

CW: PTSD, panic attacks and language.

The gif as a header is silly. it was just to lighten the mood before the chapter. it was desk job and fire and the scene in the IT CROWD where Moss deals with a fire on his desk is hilarious.

Hope you will enjoy.

------------------------

The following morning Aelin was, for once, the first one to wake up and she felt giddy. The doctors had given her the all clear to go back to work. It was desk for duty only and had recommended to take it easy for the first week back. She was excited at the idea of wearing her uniform once more and be back with the rest of her squad. She had missed them all. Their banter, their company.

She looked at Rowan still asleep and giggled. It was so unusual for her to wake up before him. Had it been his day off, she would have let him sleep but he had to go to work as well so she had decided to wake him up in a special way. She got off the bed, walked to his side, then took a step backward and finally jumped and landed on him.

“What the heck?” he roared, grabbed her and turned in a very swift motion caging her in between his arms with his body towering on her.

“I am your new alarm clock,” she smiled looking up at him.

“Worst alarm ever.” His legs trapped hers as well so that Aelin was fully blocked under him.

“What if I was am naked? Still a bad alarm?”

His hands sneaked down her body and Aelin was getting ready for them to make her a happy and satisfied woman, but they stilled and a moment later he started tickling her.

She whimpered and tried to wiggle free from his grasp but Rowan was relentless and she was now screaming for him to stop and shaking her head wildly, blond hair flowing everywhere.

“Rowan, please.” She shouted when she reached a point in which she could not take it anymore.

He finally stopped, realising he had punished her enough but never moved away from her.

“Enjoying the view, captain?” She mused at his strange expression.

“You are stunning,” he whispered dropping a kiss on her lips “you have no idea, but when you smile you can seriously give a man a heart attack.” His voice now gruff with lust.

She looked down at his strained briefs and grinned “not just that apparently.”

Aelin pulled up on her elbows and begged for a kiss “we can have some morning fun in bed, or we can use the shower and save some time.”

A second later she was airborne and Rowan was carrying her to the bathroom “I love the way you think, captain.”

The shower took much, much longer than they had planned. Both of them were now running around the bedroom grabbing pieces of clothing to get ready to go to work.

“Totally worth it.” She told him while pulling up her jeans.

He leaned over while tying his tie and kissed her “so, so worth it.”

“How do you feel?”

“Giddy, to be honest.” She confessed ignoring the pang of nervousness that she had been feeling since the day before. She wanted to go back, but deep down a part of her was panicking at the idea, but she had not mentioned that to Rowan. He would fuss unnecessarily and she was done staying at home and be a patient.

She took a deep breath and wore her hoodie.

“Are you going to finish as normal tonight?” Rowan turned to her, while wearing his jacket.

“Yes, I will be doing a normal nine till five for now. Aedion knows. A part from paperwork I am useless.”

He heard the pang of sadness in her voice and walked to her to hug her “you will go back. You just need to be patient, Fireheart.”

She sighed and her arms went around his waist to steady her “Yeah.”

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“No,” replied Aelin shaking her head “no, I will be fine,” but from the tone Rowan knew she was not. Something was nagging at her and he feared she was putting a mask on. He sighed and blamed it on his crazy need to fuss about her.

Together they left the house and he accompanied to her car. And that alarm bell rang again in his head when he noticed the smallest hesitation in her.

“Text me, call me if you need anything.” He kissed her, cupping her face in his hands “I love you, captain.”

“Of course, who wouldn’t?” She gave him a tight smile and kissed him back “I will see you tonight.”

*

Aelin had been driving for a good ten minutes when she pulled over and got out of the car and on the pavement very quickly, feeling sick. Leaning against the car door, she felt her heart racing madly in her chest and she felt like she could not breathe.

“Are you okay, miss?” Asked a passerby noting her distress.

“I am okay.” She managed breathlessly “thank you.” 

Slowly she moved back in the car and sat back at the wheel but did not move. Just closed her eyes and waited for the queasiness to pass. One long deep breath after the other and she started regaining a bit of sanity and eventually started the car and drove to work.

She left her car along the pavement as usual then got out and took a step onto the apparatus floor. Both engine and truck and the ambulance were still there. She took another step then froze and noticed her hands shaking. What was wrong with her?

The yard was empty but she knew the crew was going to be on shift, they were probably all having breakfast together as they were used to do when they started a shift in the morning.

She looked at the trucks and almost fell sick again. A part of her wanted to turn around and run and she almost did it if it hadn’t been for Brullo’s cheery voice “cap,” he shouted, walked to her and crushed her in a bear hug.”You are back, we missed you so much.” He let her go and grabbed her hand “come on, we are all in the kitchen having breakfast. This is going to be an amazing surprise.” Aelin nodded and followed him. Her heart racing in her chest so much it hurt.

Once in the kitchen the noise that erupted as soon as she stepped in was deafening,

Everyone ran to her for a hug or to ask her questions, Ress gave her back her captain hard hat and she tried very hard to smile, to look happy while instead the emotions were too much for her to bear. She pulled away joking that she needed to breath and for some reason she had to fight tears from falling. 

“Hi guys.” She did her best to sound as steady as possible.

Aedion got to her side and ruffled her hair and her mind remembered that he was the one who found her almost dead in the inferno that had been the airport crash.

She felt sick again. This was all too much.

“I am back,” she said, giving them a tight smile her.

Aedion seemed to notice her distress and pulled her closer in a hug “finish your breakfast everyone, then you know your duties for the morning. It’s Aelin’s first day back. Let the woman breathe.”

Aelin kissed Aedion on the cheek “thank you, I missed you all, but that was a lot.”

“We have plenty of breakfast, would you like some?”

She nodded. She and Rowan had been too busy having fun that it had been too late for him to make breakfast, something he had complained about quite loudly. He was very strict with her meals and always made sure she ate. He had been incredible and since he had started living with her she had fallen for him even more. They had even stopped fighting. They bickered, but that was fun. She thought about him and in that instant she realised that his arms around her would be the only way to calm the panic rising in her. He grounded her.

Aedion passed her a plate with some breakfast and she took a bite, ignoring the protests of her stomach.

Once it was just the two of them Aedion finally took the courage to speak to her “are you okay?”

She knew she would struggle to lie to him “you know you can talk to me, right?”

Aelin stood “I have a lot to catch up to,” and walked away, ignoring Aedion completely.

Once in her office she slammed the door shut and walked to her desk. It was covered in mail and few notes from Aedion. He had been acting captain while she had been off. She turned on the pc and spent a good hour going through all her emails.

Marcus had sent her a few articles about the incident at the airport and had highlighted the parts about her. One of the articles had an aerial picture of the disaster and as she saw it, she stood and moved away from her desk. Her breath became laboured and dizziness and nausea came back. She went to the sofa and sat down, taking her head in her hands. In that instant she heard someone knocking at the door and stood quickly “come in,” she said trying to sound herself.

Lysandra’s head popped in “hi, you. Can I come in? Are you busy?”

Aelin motioned to join her on the sofa.

“How does it feel to be back?”

Terrifying. Aelin wanted to say “a bit overwhelmed, there is so much I have to catch up that I don’t know where to start so I am just sitting on the sofa and hope work will complete itself.” Good, let’s put her usual swagger on. 

“Aedion tried to keep everything as you left it and did as much as he could. He hated it. He kept saying that the place behind that desk was not his. We all missed you so much, but he is the one who missed you the most and not just because of the acting captain thing.”

“I missed you all as well.” At least she didn’t have to lie about that.

“How is it going with the captain? Is he still living at your place?”

Aelin nodded “yes, we are fine. We even stopped fighting. He is wonderful and he helped me a lot.”

Lysandra smiled “so you two are shacking up officially?”

“We haven’t discussed the matter, to be honest.”

“But you are happy with him.” Asked Lys tenderly, who was very happy to see her friend letting her fears aside.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Lysandra clapped her hands “don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

Aelin rolled her eyes “too early for that, don’t you think?”

Lys was about to reply but dispatch alarm went off calling for the ambulance “that’s my clue to go.”

The woman stood and disappeared through the door and Aelin sighed heavily then ran to the bathroom and was sick. She sat on the cold floor for a good ten minutes, her head against the stall’s wall. Then she heard voices, left the stall, washed her face and tried to act normal to avoid suspicion. 

“Hello, captain” Ansel’s cheery voice reached her.

“How are you doing?”

“Amazing. I am due to go and help Luca with training in a moment. The kiddo has his exam in two weeks.”

She felt a smile reach her lips “that is wonderful news.”

“The whole squad has been taking turns helping him with training. We are positive he will crush it. He got really good.”

“Good, just… look after him once out there.”

Ansel patted her shoulder “always. We always look after each other.” And the woman winked at her and walked away leaving Aelin alone once again.

Aelin splashed her face with cold water and walked back to her office determined to get some work done. 

She was in the middle of finishing some report when someone else knocked at the door and Dorian appeared “hi, you.”

Aedion had told her how broken he had been when they thought she was a goner. 

Her hands started trembling again but she hid them under the desk.

“Good morning, chief. I was not expecting you.”

“I just wanted to pop in and see how you were.”

“Your emails and reports are what’s gonna kill me.”

For a moment she noticed a flicker of pain flash in his eyes “just ignore them.”

Aelin shook her head “emails and reports are the reason I am at work today. That’s all I can do for the foreseeable future.”

“You know why.” He said softly.

“I know chief,” she said in a harsher tone than what she wanted “it doesn’t cancel the fact that at the moment I am useless as a firefighter and replying to emails and finalise million of reports is all I can do. Guess they don’t teach you that at the academy.”

He moved a step to her “Aelin, I know how you feel just now. I have been there myself and I hated every minute of it.”

Aelin sighed and calmed down. During his time as captain at west he got badly injured and after he got back to work he had been assigned on desk duty for three months. She was still a candidate at his station but remembered how miserable the man had been.

“How are you? Mentally. We do have support if you are struggling.”

Aelin run a hand through her hair. She knew. The counsellor had already been in touch with her. It was protocol for them to go through counselling and help in case of a traumatic incident.

“I am fine.”

“Aelin, you almost died.” He said through gritted teeth.

She stood “I know. I was there. The roof collapsed on me. I was the one who almost asphyxiated in that bloody inferno. I know.” She snarled at him.

“Have you spoken to the counsellor?”

“Not yet.”

Dorian sat down in front of her and Aelin was annoyed at the fact that he was going stay longer than she hoped.

“Aelin— ”

“Don’t” she stopped him “don’t use that patronising tone with me, chief. I know the rules. I will make an appointment with him.”

“So,” he continued, enjoying himself “how is it going with your captain?”

“Fine.” She replied, leaning back in her chair and twinning her hands under her chin.

He smirked “are you friends already?”

Aelin rolled her eyes “as if you don’t know that we are more than that.”

He raised his hands in a yielding gesture “just checking. You and Aedion did a good job with the airforce. I had Commodore Salvaterre singing the praises of the two of you.”

Aelin’s mouth fell open “Lorcan. That Lorcan actually praised us.”

Dorian nodded.

Aelin texted Rowan very quickly. His reply came back within seconds: are we talking about the same man?

She showed Dorian Rowan’s reply “see? Rowan can’t believe it either.”

“Well, he did.”

Aelin shrugged “fine, I’ll believe you.”

“Good,” he finally stood “I’ll leave you to your emails. Just please talk to the counsellor, okay?”

“Yes, chief.”

Dorian smiled at her and left and Aelin let out a very long breath. She was finally alone again and hoped no one would go in her office again. She loved them all, deeply and she missed them but she felt so out of sorts that even interacting with them was getting difficult.

The dispatch alarm went off again and this time it was for engine and truck. She stood and quickly went to where they were parked and from a corner looked at her team go away without her. Once they were gone she leaned against the wall and sobbed so hard that she ended up sitting on the floor for a moment. Then she stood and slowly walked away. She reached the room where they kept all their gear and walked in, finding it empty as the guys were on a call and her gear was the only one present.

With one hand she touched her new jacket. Her old one had been damaged in the fire. It smelled wrong. That was the first thing she noticed and it was pristine, with no marks, and she hated it. With her fingers she brushed the letters at the bottom saying captain Galathynius. She sat in a corner and hugged her legs to her chest and hid in the empty room for a while. Then all of a sudden she stood and ran back to her office, grabbed all of her belongings, switched off the computer and all the lights and ran back to her car.

Fifteen minutes later she was back home, very quickly she got to the closet she shared with Rowan, grabbed her blue duffel bag and started shoving clothes in it. Then grabbed a few other items from the room and ran outside back to her car.

A moment later she started driving north, not having an idea where she was going. She just aimed for the mountains. She needed to be away from everything. She had tried to be brave and go back to work, and ignored the truth in front of her. She was not ready. She had been stubborn and convinced herself and probably the doctors as well that she was, but the whole morning had been the proof that she had gone back too early. In reality she had been terrified since the moment she had left the house. The station had reminded her of what happened at the airport. Reminded that hers had almost been the next funeral. That the bell had almost rang for her.

Tears began flowing and eventually she had to pull over, the tears not allowing her to see the road properly. She was not okay and she felt lost. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt like she was going insane.

Eventually, Aelin went back to driving and remembered that Lys had once mentioned holiday cottages in the mountains. She pulled over again and took out her phone to search for the place. Once she got it she set her sat nav and went back to driving. She arrived half an hour later and was impressed by the location of the place. It was in the heart of the Staghorns mountains and it felt like the most peaceful place on Earth. Once she was better she definitely had to take Rowan there.

She parked the car at the guest car park and got inside the reception, got herself a cottage for a week and drove to her allocated house. It was perfect.

She parked the car, grabbed her bag from the trunk and walked in.

The cottage was all in wood and was gorgeous. She noticed the fireplace and flinched at the massive fire hazard. Her bag landed on the floor and she then curled on the bed. The next thing she did was to switch off her phone.

*

Aedion and the squad got back to the station over an hour later and the first sign he had that something was wrong was that all the lights were off. Aelin was supposed to be there. He jumped off the truck, gave some orders to the two teams and walked to Aelin’s office. Once in he noticed it was empty “Aelin?” He called.

“Why all the light were off?” Asked Lysandra joining him. 

“Aelin is not here.” He replied quietly.

“I thought she was staying until five.” Added the woman. 

Aedion kept walking around the station as if in search of a clue of her whereabouts. He went to check the captain’s private quarters but they were empty.

“No sign of her anywhere,” said Lysandra joining him again.

Aedion took out his phone and tried to call her. He looked at Lysandra and shook his head.

“What if something happened?” Lys whispered. They were keeping the news to themselves for now. Let the other think she had gone home early.

“Ae, she was not okay. I spoke to her and she pretended to be fine but I saw the mask. She was just putting her usual bravado for us.”

Aedion sighed heavily “I know. She avoided talking to me and Dorian told me the same thing. She is not well and the fact that she is gone worries me immensely.”

“You are her cousin, dammit, you should have pushed her.” Lysandra said through gritted teeth.

“You know better than me that it doesn’t work with her.”

Lysandra groaned in frustration “call the captain. Call him and see if she is there.”

Aedion pulled his phone out of his pocket once again and called Rowan.

“Hello  Lieutenant.”

“Captain…” he took a deep breath “I was wondering if Aelin is there at the base with you.”

“No, why would she? She told me she was going to work.” Rowan’s panic rose a notch.

“She was here this morning, but when we came back from a call, she was gone. I thought she came to see you.”

“Are you telling me that you have no idea of where she is?”

“Yes, captain.”

Rowan swore “I will be there in fifteen.” And he hang up.

Aedion looked at Lysandra “he was not happy.”

“Fuck.”

Rowan marched into the fire station not long after. Aedion directed him to a quiet area of the station and Lysandra followed. 

“Where is she?” Asked Rowan as soon as they were away from everyone. 

“We don’t know. She is not here, but she was when we left.” 

Rowan started pacing back and forth nervously “was she okay while she was here?”

Aedion shook his head “She didn’t tell me but I know she was not well. I tried to talk but I had no luck.”

Rowan leaned against the table, hands on the wooden surface “She is not. She has been suffering from nightmares and panic attacks. She is not sleeping well either.” He explained “I suggested plenty of times to talk to someone, you guys have counsellors, right?”

Aedion nodded.

“I told her to delay her return to work by a week. She was giddy this morning, but I could feel there was something wrong, it bugged me the whole morning.” He ran a hand through his hair “I should have told her to stay at home. I just believed her.”

Aedion placed a hand on his shoulder “She does that. She did the same after Sam died. She put up a wall and pretended she was fine. Fooled us all until she just broke down completely.”

“Well, I would like to avoid for her to break down this time if possible.” Rowan growled back. All the signs were there and like an idiot he had believed her. He felt like the worst boyfriend in the universe.

“Any idea of where she could have gone? Any friends anywhere else?”

Aedion shook his head.

Rowan grabbed his phone and tried to call her and desperation hit him when it did not connect “Aelin it’s me. Pleas call me when you hear this. I beg you. Where are you? Everyone is worried. I love you.”

“I’ll go home and see if she is there or if there are any clues of where she could have gone.”

“We are still on shift until tomorrow morning, keep me updated, please.” Said Aedion with a broken voice.

“I will. And you will let me know if you have any luck or think of any places she might be?”

“We will,” said Lysandra, grabbing Aedion’s arm.

Rowan nodded and disappeared.

Twenty minutes later he was at their place, but the house was empty. He walked around the house but it looked exactly like they had left it in the morning.

“Where are you?” He whispered.

He opened their closet and in an instant he noticed something missing: her blue duffel bag.

“Shit.” Some of her clothes had gone as well.

He grabbed his phone.

“Captain?”

“I think she is gone.” Rowan’s voice was filled with deep panic.

“I thought we established that.”

“No, Aedion. She left. Her duffel bag is missing and some of her clothes are gone too. She must have come home and packed because they were here this morning.”

“What do we do?”

Rowan sat on the bed, his head in his hand, while with the other he held the phone “I have no idea.” He felt useless and in utter fear.

“I think it’s bad. She did not flee after she lost Sam. She was broken but never left. Whatever it is, we need to find her soon.”

“How?” Roared Rowan “How the fuck am I supposed to find her if we don’t have any idea?”

“I don’t think we can until she wants to be found.”

Rowan wanted to scream. 

He was going insane.

***

It was four days later and Aelin was sitting on the cold floor of the bathroom sobbing loudly. She just had four days from hell. The nightmares had been relentless and she was now so scared of falling asleep that she had stopped sleeping altogether. She had started surviving on coffee but that had the horrible side effect of increasing her panic attacks. 

Slowly she tried to stand, she washed her face and made her way back in bed. The last panic attack had left her a wreck and she felt like she was losing her mind. 

Her stomach growled but she could not eat. She had bought some meals to heat up in the microwave, but she was struggling to keep food down.

She ignored the pangs of hunger and curled under the blankets, shaking like a leaf.

She woke up an hour later with a terrible scream leaving her lungs. She sat in bed and patted her body, realising she was not on fire. That was the recurring nightmare. Her body on fire, the flames engulfing her as the ceiling collapsed on her over and over again and the horrifying smell of her skin burning. And then the feeling of suffocation. She would always wake up gasping for air.

Slowly she calmed herself down and her breathing went back to normal. She was drenched in sweat so she stood and went to the bathroom to take a shower. 

Once under the jets she let herself relax and think of happy memories. Of happier showers she had shared with Rowan. And then guilt hit her. She had left. She had just disappeared. No notes, nothing.

He must be going insane. It had been four days and she could picture him mad with grief.

She should have never left. She should have accepted his help. 

Gods, she missed him so much. The tears came back in force and leaned her head against the wall. She felt so, so lost.

Aelin sat down in the shower floor and pulled her legs to her chest and cried until she felt spent and exhausted and had no tears left to shed. Eventually she found the strength to leave the shower wear  clean clothes and sit back in bed. 

With trembling hands she grabbed her phone and switched it on. A barrage of notifications hit the device. She read all the texts from Rowan. There was no fury from him, just love and support and a plea to come back to him. Her chest felt tight in pain. She had let him down so much. How could she face him again? After all his support since she woke up in a hospital bed how could she flee from him instead of begging for his help? A help she clearly needed. She had lied to herself. She was fine, she had told herself over and over again. But she was not. Not even remotely close to it.

She listened to her voicemails from Rowan and Aedion and her cousin sounded far more furious than Rowan.

She started typing a message to Rowan but stopped and started a few times. What could she tell him? I am a mess, why bother with me? She shook her head and deleted the message again.

Then she had her answer.

I am sorry.

-----------

TAGS:

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@jlinez​

@swankii-art-teacher​

@courtofjurdan​

@whimsicallyreading​

@tillyrubes10​

[the-bau-quinjet]

You Belong With Me

Chapter 5 of In Breakable Heaven!! 

Summary: Penelope has a Halloween party!

Warnings: none 

Word Count: ~3100

You woke up slowly, not realizing you were on the couch with another human. As usual, you tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but instead of landing on the other side of your bed you land squarely on the floor between your couch and coffee table. Spencer shifted on the couch to look down at you as the two of you burst into laughter.

“Are you okay?” He struggled to get the words out through the laughter. 

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine.” Finally managing to stand up, you grab the trash from the night before and throw it out. Spencer grabs the dishes from behind you and loads them into the dishwasher. You are about to offer Spencer some breakfast when he breaks the silence.

 “I should probably get going, but, uh, I can’t find my phone.” You can’t help but smile at the dejected look on his face.

 “It probably sunk into the couch, here” you hand him your phone “You can call it while I look under the cushions.” He takes your advice, dialing his phone and holding yours up to his ear.

 “It’s ringing.” You can hear it begin to vibrate as you remove cushions from the couch. “Got it!” You hold the phone up victoriously, answering the call. “Hello Doctor. What can I do for you?” You can’t help but tease him a little. He hangs up your phone, trading it for his. 

“Thank you. I really do have to go, but I’m really glad I got to see you again.” “Me too. I mean, I don’t have to go. I live here. I just meant I’m really happy I got to see you again too. And now you have my phone number, so we can talk more!” You force yourself to stop rambling before you say something even more embarrassing. 

He just grins at you, glad to not be the one rambling for once, and waves goodbye as he says “I’m looking forward to it.”

 --

 Around 4 PM a couple days later, you get a text from Spencer. You two had been texting pretty consistently since he left your apartment. But this text feels like a birthday gift from up above when you read the five simple words. Not that you would tell him today is your birthday. That would be weird to just randomly bring up.

 From Spencer: “Are you busy right now?”

 To Spencer: “Nope. I just got back from the bookstore.”

 It takes what feels like eternity for him to respond. Unbeknownst to you, he is pacing his apartment, working up the nerve to press send.

 From Spencer: “Do you want go see a movie? There’s a new Scream that just started in theaters and since Halloween is right around the corner, I thought it might be fun.”

 You can’t help but squeal a little when you read and reread the message.

 To Spencer: “I would love to! I love Halloween.”

 From Spencer: “Great, I can pick you up at 5?”

 To Spencer: “See you then”

 You instantly drop what you were working on to get ready. You have to pick out something to wear that says you’re interested but isn’t too much for going to see a movie. You decide on a pair of dark wash jeans, black combat boots, and a light sweater that ties in the back. It’s cute, comfy, and very fall. Just as you finish your mascara, you hear a knock on your door. You grab your purse and swing it open to find Spencer standing there in a black button up, dark jeans, a maroon cardigan, and of course, black converse. He looks incredible. You can feel the blush on your cheeks as he looks at you. “Ready to go?”

 “Yep, just let me grab my keys.” And with that, the two of you are walking back down to his car. You arrive to the theater 15 minutes before the movie, the perfect amount of time to get some snacks! You insist on buying the popcorn and sweet treats since he bought the tickets. You make your way into the theater and see it’s mostly empty except for a few people in the back. You find two seats in the middle and sit down. You’re honestly a little nervous because even though you love scary movies and haunted houses, you still get freaked out pretty easily. The scare is why you love it, but also why you’re nervous.

 “Are you okay?” Spencer’s question cuts off your train of thought. 

You decide to answer honestly “yeah, I love scary movies. I just… get scared… Wow that was stupid.” You can feel the blush creeping up again as you try to come up with a better way of describing it.

 “That’s not stupid at all. It’s really all because of adrenaline and other fear induced hormones. It is common for people to seek out adrenaline inducing situations because the brain itself won’t determine how much danger you are in. It only recognizes the fear and produces adrenaline to combat it.” You inadvertently cut him off when you hug him, muttering a quiet thank you. He’s too distracted by the scent of your perfume to continue on about adrenaline.  

 Ten minutes in and the movie hasn’t been that bad yet. You can’t tell if you’re disappointed or glad you aren’t screaming like crazy. Just as you let your guard down, there’s a jump scare that has you grabbing Spencer’s arm for safety. He laughs, seemingly unfazed by the cheap scare, and shifts so he is holding your hand. “Just squeeze my hand when you’re scared” he whispers in your ear. You feel the butterflies again as you nod at him. You squeeze his hand on and off throughout the rest of the movie, blushing when his thumb starts to rub circles on your hand.

 When the movie is over, the two of you decide to go across the street to a diner for some real dinner. You are right in the middle of eating breakfast for the third time that day when both your phones go off. Glancing down, you see a text from Penelope.

 From PG: “Y/N!! I am having an impromptu Halloween party and I do not want to hear it that you are too busy. Get your butt over here by 9!!”

 To PG: “You got it! Costume?”

 From PG: “Of course! I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 You look up at Spencer “Penelope’s party?” You immediately try to think of a costume you can pull together from what you’ve got at home. It’s already October 27th, but you hadn’t planned a costume yet. 

“Yep, I guess I have to go find a costume.” Spencer replies, running his hands through his hair. 

“Same here. I have no idea what I’m going to wear.”

 “I can drop you back at your apartment if you want? So you can get ready.” You sigh, he is obviously right but you were hoping the night would last a little longer. 

“That would be great, thank you.” At least you know you’ll see him soon.

 Getting ready goes a lot easier than you anticipated. You pull together a young, country Taylor Swift costume with denim cutoff shorts, cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, a navy tank top, and a matching flannel. You decide to grab your acoustic guitar just to add to the look. It’ll work. You finish your makeup and leave in a hurry. Penelope is not one to be kept waiting.

 You get to Penelope’s apartment at 9:02. “What took so long? I thought you would be right over after I texted.” She scolded as she opened the door.

 “I wasn’t home, so I had to go home and throw together a costume” you laugh as she looks you up and down, doing a little twirl. She looks you in the eye before confirming your costume “Country Taylor Swift, not bad.”

 “Why thank you! Might I add you make an incredible vampire!” You say, lifting your hat off your head. Penelope just rolls her eyes and opens the door wider for you to come in. You immediately spot the rest of the team as other the other guests. Emily, Derek, JJ – who brought Will - Hotch, and Rossi. You didn’t know them all that well, but apparently you made a good impression since you were invited back. You aren’t sure if Spencer has told them anything about the two of you hanging out, so you decide not to say anything either. Instead, you admire everyone’s costumes.

 Emily is dressed as Black Widow in a tight all leather getup. Derek matches Penelope’s vampire costume, something you are sure she made him wear. JJ and Will make an adorable Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl. You are still trying to figure out Hotch and Rossi’s costumes when you hear them arguing. “I am very clearly a chef. Look at my hat.” Rossi says as he emphatically points to his head.

 “And I am from Men in Black.” Hotch declares. You are sure he is glaring from behind those sunglasses. They all turn and greet you when you get close enough.

 “Who are you dressed as?” Derek asks as he looks you up and down.

 “She’s clearly a young TS. The only thing missing is the signature curly blonde hair.” JJ looks shocked that Derek couldn’t put that together.

 “Ooh, since you’re dressed as a singer, you have to go first in karaoke. We can’t start until everyone is here though. Penelope’s rules.” Emily declares.

 “I guess I need a drink then!” You laugh as you head to the kitchen. You pour yourself a glass of white wine, not understanding how anyone can enjoy the vinegar like taste of the red, and walk back into the living room.

 You immediately spotted Spencer. He was wearing a loose white button up with puffy sleeves, a black vest, black jeans, and he had a red bandana tied around his head. Plus, he was carrying a prop sword. The converse didn’t really match, but you could still figure out the look. He was the dorkiest pirate you have ever seen and you loved it. Derek was giving him a hard time, but before you could do anything Emily was pulling you over to the karaoke machine.

 “It’s time to start karaoke!!” She was clearly a little tipsy, but you did not feel nearly drunk enough to sing in front of these people. You downed your wine, earning some whistles, and put the glass on the coffee table.

 “Emily! I have no idea what to sing.” You tried to protest.

 “Nonsense, you can sing a Taylor Swift song.” JJ chimed in “Something from an old album since your dressed country!”

 Emily immediately started a song before you could protest anymore and you were singing almost immediately.

 You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset.

 ‘At least it’s an easy song to perform’ you thought to yourself, having done it what felt like a million times. But they don’t know that. Before you knew it, the girls were all singing the end of the song with you.

 Have you ever thought just maybe, you belong with me? You belong with me.

 You chanced a glance at Spencer as you finished the song. You refused to look at him before that, knowing he would make you too nervous. Before you had a chance to comprehend the look on his face, Derek inadvertently interrupted the moment “Y/N you’ve been holding out on us. That was great!” He said. The others joined in on the praise as you turned red. You managed to squeak out a “thanks” before retreating to fill your wine glass. Spencer met you in the kitchen.

 “That really was an amazing performance. You should consider switching careers.” You laughed at his comment, it was pretty comical considering your side hobby. “No really. You would be amazing.”

 You turned even redder with the compliment. “Thanks Doc, I appreciate the confidence boost.” You almost told him then and there, but ultimately you were being called back to the living room to hear Rossi sing Bon Jovi.

 The night continued much the same until Penelope broke off into the kitchen. You were going to follow her, but Rossi pulled you back into a conversation and you missed the chance. Soon enough she was returning with a huge birthday cake. At first, you were shocked. Then you realized she was the Penelope Garcia. Figuring out someone’s birthday is child’s play to her.

 Then you were shocked again, because everyone was singing to Spencer. Apparently it was after midnight and his birthday is October 28th.

 Once everyone has a piece of cake, you walk up to Spencer hitting him on the arm, “Why didn’t you tell me today is your birthday?” 

He deflects the question easily.  “Today only just started, so I really didn’t have time. Plus you haven’t told me when your birthday is.”

 You instantly freeze at that. You can’t possible tell him your birthday was yesterday. That would be so awkward. He immediately senses the tensions and asks “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

You practically run out of the room calling “yep I’m fine, all good, 100% a-o-kay.”

 Spencer, confused by your quick exit, decided to look at your license to figure out your birthday. Maybe he could surprise you with something. Realization dawned on his features as he read the date, seeing that your birthday was yesterday.

 --

 You were relieved when Spencer didn’t chase after you to figure out exactly why you practically sprinted away from the conversation. You decided to just enjoy the rest of the party.

 Around 2 AM everyone was heading out. You hung back a little since Spencer hadn’t left yet, hoping you’d be able to walk out with him. God, you feel like a teenager again. Secretly crushing on a guy who clearly only likes you as a friend. Ugh.

 “Y/N!” You break out of your pitying thoughts to see Penelope and Spencer standing in front of you. Great. How long were you just staring at the ground? “You okay?” Penelope asks, looking at you with clear concern.

 “Yeah, I’m just tired. You threw quite the party!” You tried to joke to clear the air. “Thanks for inviting me, Pen.” You hugged her as you looked around for your purse, grabbing it off the chair. Spencer has been staring at you with a contemplative look on his face during the whole encounter.

 “I’ll see you soon, right?” You looked back as you opened the door. “Of course, my lovely!” Penelope smiled as you and Spencer left, him calling a quick goodbye as he walked out after you. You didn’t say anything until you noticed Spencer was walking towards your apartment with you.

 “What are you doing?” Ugh, real subtle. What kind of a question is that?

“Walking you home. It’s my birthday, you can’t say no.” You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, but there was something serious in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say your birthday was yesterday? We could have celebrated!” He seemed genuinely confused.

 “I don’t know. I guess I’ve never been the kind of person who does well with all that attention. My birthday was never a huge deal growing up, so I haven’t really made a big deal out of it now. Pen wanted a Halloween party, not a birthday party. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” You couldn’t make eye contact with him. You’ve never really talked about these insecurities with anyone.

 “First of all, she clearly didn’t mind having a party for both because she had a birthday cake for me. I am completely sure that she would have decorated it for both of us had she known. Second, you deserve to have people make a big deal. You are an incredible person, Y/N. You are extraordinarily kind, selfless, and beautiful.” He pauses for a second before pulling something out of his bag. “I didn’t know your birthday was even in October, but I bought these a few days ago. I was going to give them to you after the movie, but then Garcia called and we split up. If you don’t like them I can take them back I just thought since you twist your earrings around so much, maybe they were bothering you and maybe a new pair would help. Penelope actually helped me pick them out, although she doesn’t know that. She just mentioned how she thought you would like them when we were at the farmer’s market.”

 Tears sprung to your eyes as you realized how much thought he must’ve put into this. You couldn’t help but throw yourself into a hug whispering “thank you, Spence. That is so thoughtful.” He rubbed your back until you stepped back from the hug. You opened the box to find a pair of dainty white gold earrings. One was a moon and the other a star. “They are beautiful.” You whispered into his ear as you pulled him in for another hug.

Stepping back again, the two of you made your way to your apartment. Upon arrival, you confessed, “I actually have something for you too. It’s upstairs though, so you have to come inside.” He smiled as you pulled him into your building.

 “I obviously didn’t know your birthday is today, but you told me about breaking your watch and when I saw this in the store window I thought of you and it just looked perfect.” You watched as he slowly opened the watch box, pulling out a simple brown leather band with a white watch face surrounded by a silver casing. It honestly screamed Dr. Spencer Reid. The watch face isn’t too modern and the leather band matches his satchel.

 “Y/N, it’s perfect. Thank you.” He closed the box, hugging you to say thank you. Looking into his eyes, you realized with 100% certainty you are falling for Dr. Spencer Reid. “Let’s go to sleep” is all you can say in response. You pull him into the bed and snuggle as close as you dare, too afraid to say anything else when you don’t know how he feels. The two of you drift into a restful sleep, not even bothering to change from your costumes.

 --

 You wake up due to the muffled voice of Spencer in the kitchen. You can smell the coffee, so you quickly change into some pajamas before walking out to join him. He glances at you apologetically while you pour the coffee into two mugs, adding equal amounts of sugar to both.

 As soon as he hangs up, he’s hugging you goodbye. “I’m so sorry, we have a case. We are supposed to be at the jet in 30 minutes.”

 “Don’t worry about it Doc. Go save the world.” You decide to listen to Superman on repeat for an hour while you clean.

tag list: 

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[painless-innit-colourful]

Swear By The Stars - A Tubbo & Robin Fic

It’s a peaceful night in L’Manberg, but the leader does not rest.

He doesn’t look it, picking his way through the woods bordering his country wearing a thick jumper and cloak, bags under his eyes and a sword in his belt, but it hardly matters. At this hour no one’s coming over for diplomatic reasons, and whatever he finds in amongst those trees is none of his business, actually.

Or so he thinks.

When he sees the figure in the clearing, his first instinct is to say “Ghostbur?”, but that would be very dumb because it clearly isn’t. Sitting on a log in the middle of the empty space is the ghost of a child, with ginger hair much too vibrant to be Wilbur’s, wearing an old fashioned shirt and a straw hat.

“What are you doing?” The question leaves Tubbo’s mouth before he can think to stop it, and the young boy’s head snaps to look in his direction. His mouth sets in a line as he gives Tubbo a once-over, face betraying curiosity; and then he goes back to gazing at the night sky, staring at nothing but clouds in the frigid air, as Tubbo sees when he walks over to join him.

“Are you alive?” Tubbo jumps slightly, looking away from the vast expanse of nothing overhead and back to the boy who has fixed him with a dull gaze. His voice is soft like it hasn’t been used for a long time, and he cocks his head to one side slowly. “I am.” Comes the teenager’s reply. The boy looks puzzled for a moment, then shakes his head. “Right. I thought, from the cloak, you might have been from the same place- time as me. But, obviously not.” “When are you from?” “A very, very long time ago.” The boy leans back on his elbows. “I lost track not long after I died. It all blends together, especially when you’re not watching people that are alive, but I never went away. Unfinished business, or something.” He tilts his head to one side again. “Who are you?” “President Tubbo of L’Manberg.” He replies after a beat, sticking out a hand for a handshake on reflex. The ghost boy takes it somewhat anxiously and gives it a tentative shake, soft and yet firm at the same time.

“Robin.” And there it strikes Tubbo, that Robin reminds him of someone. Someone he can’t pin down just yet.

“So what are you doing?” He asks as they let go of each others’ hands. “Waiting.” “For what?” Robin lifts his gaze to the heavens once more. “For the stars to come out. No matter when or where you are in all the land, there’s one surety: sooner or later, the clouds disappear and the stars show themselves, once per night. The weather moves fast.” He says, turning to look at Tubbo again. “Would you like to join me?”

Tubbo’s answer comes in the form of him taking a seat on the log beside Robin. They both look up, and it’s several minutes of nothing before either of them speaks again. “So, why do you think you’re still here? What’s your unfinished business?” The phrase leaves a bad taste in Tubbo’s mouth even as he’s saying it, and it hangs in the air for a moment as the younger boy contemplates his answer. “I don’t know. It’s supposed to be about tidying your loose ends, letting go of your life and moving on, but I guess it... broke when it got to me, because what are you supposed to let go of when you had nothing to lose in the first place?” “What do you mean?”

Robin sighed, “My village… went completely mad. I was an orphan: I barely knew my mom and my dad died in a war, missing in action, so not even a gravestone for him. I tried to study medicine, be somebody anyway, but I was a burden on everyone around me. One night, someone was murdered, and the town thought the only person that still cared about me did it.” Tubbo wanted to reach out and put an arm around this kid; he refrained. “They executed him in front of me. But they still weren’t satisfied. The next day, they came for me too. I didn’t have the will to deny it. All I had ever done was annoy and burden these people because I couldn’t look after myself, and they needed someone to blame. In the end, I just let them kill me too.” Robin sounded close to crying, though his expression stayed neutral. He looked over at Tubbo, whose face resembled that of someone who just watched a puppy get kicked. “Sorry, it’s not a happy story.”

The teenager forced a smile, “It’s okay- Look, Robin, I know we just met, but I think I can figure out what you need to do to pass on in peace. I might be wrong - I’m probably wrong, we’ve spoken for about two minutes-” “You can’t be wrong, you’re the President, and I’m pretty sure that’s the ruler of the land, so you’re always right?” Tubbo chuckled a little, “That’s not how it works anymore.” Robin seemed amused by this. “-anyway, what was I saying… Right, yeah, you said you don’t know how you can move on, but the way it seems to me, you have a lot of bad feeling weighing you down that you need to let go of to be at peace.” “How do I do that?” “I… don’t know.” Tubbo sighed, eyeing the scars on his hands and imagining where they run up his arms and torso, all the way up to his face. “I haven’t figured that one out yet either.”

Robin followed Tubbo’s gaze to his scarred hands, then to his face. “...what happened to you?” He took a deep breath, “It’s a long story but, essentially: I was found in a box on a roadside by a man who already had three sons and never really took to me. I fought a war for that country over there-” He gestured back in the direction of L’Manberg, its lights glowing softly through the trees. “-with two of the ‘brothers’ and we only just won. Then they lost this seat of power to a crazy old guy that made me be a part of his cabinet- It’s like a council?” He said, for the benefit of the confused child next to him. “I was spying on him so my brothers could take our home back, but he found out and executed me…” The two boys looked intently at each other as Tubbo trailed off, an awkward feeling settling over them both.

Then Robin broke it. “He executed you, and you’re alive? Did you reanimate or something? Come back to life?” Tubbo laughed nervously. “Like I said, things are a lot different now-” “You have gotta teach me how to do that.” And they got a good laugh out of that. “-but no, really. We fought one final war to get our home back, and we won, and they made me president, and for five minutes everything was fine, until two of the aforementioned brothers blew the whole place up and betrayed us.” The president startled again as Robin placed a ghostly hand on his arm, jarring him. “What about the last brother? Was he okay?” Tubbo felt a heavy weight settle over his heart. “Yeah,” And his voice became smaller than that of the young ghost’s. “He’s fine, except I exiled him from my country a few weeks ago, and I can’t even remember why now, it was so stupid and I miss him and-” The next thing he knew, the young boy had pulled him in for a hug, and Tubbo was a bit embarrassed by how emotional he’d gotten. “You weren’t kidding. Both of us have… some things to think about. But look!”

Tubbo pulled away, following the hand pointing upwards, not missing Robin smiling with hope in his eyes as he gripped Tubbo’s arm with the other hand. While they had been recounting their sob stories, the clouds had cleared. The two grieving, lost, lonely boys sat under a sky full of stars. “Doesn’t matter what you’ve done,” Robin said, dropping his outstretched arm. “The clouds can always clear. Maybe I should’ve fought it, tried to make something with my life instead of letting it be thrown away. Maybe you shouldn’t have sent your brother away. But the stars are still there. I’m not alone anymore: I have Corpse, the one who cared for me, who comes down to visit even now. And I’m sure you do too. Somebody, somewhere, who would come back for you. They can see the same stars.”

And at that moment, Tubbo knows exactly who Robin reminds him of. Himself.

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from two anons. No crying involved but definitely an anxiety-inducing situation for RC if that makes any sense. Enjoy! ♥

Words: 2118 Warnings: brief mention of past abusive relationship, attempted rape

“Honey, don’t you think you have enough candy by now? Who’s gonna eat all that?”

“Me!” Your niece stuck out her tongue as she half-walked, half-jumped through one of the many dimly-lit hallways. Her pumpkin basket was full to the brim already but, as you had suspected, there was no stopping her. You did not mind. You weren’t exactly keen on the annual Dauntless Halloween party in the pit. Lots of alcohol, sweaty bodies and so much fake blood it would take you weeks to get it all out of your clothes, off of your body and your hair. You didn’t hate Halloween, in fact you loved it. But you would rather curl up on the sofa in your tiny apartment reading a good book instead of drinking yourself into a coma.

Your niece looked unbelievably cute in her witch costume. Long ginger hair stuck out from under the pointy hat with the fluffy spider sitting on top. She’d had a little black broom as well—and you were not surprised you had had to keep carrying it after only three apartments already.

She was bound to get tired soon, so you kept telling yourself. You could already see yourself becoming a blanket burrito with a steaming mug full of hot chocolate and some of the leftover sweets you yourself had bought for the other children prior to trick or treating with your niece. You were so lost in thought that you only realised too late she had already started at the next apartment door and gave it a vigorous knock.

“Honey, no, not this one!” Shit. Only a few heartbeats later, the door opened.

“Trick or Treat!” She cried out. She was grinning as she held out her pumpkin basket, waiting patiently for her next victim to give her even more sweets. Only the person who had opened her hardly seemed impressed and instead raised an eyebrow at her. Eric used one of his muscly arms to lean against the threshold, his gaze wandering back and forth between your niece and you.

No one ever dared to knock on Eric’s door, presuming he would breathe down their neck for even considering he would give out candy to enthusiastic little children. Unfortunately, your niece did not know that.

Eventually, his gaze came to rest on you.

“I am so sorry, she was too fast.”

“What happened to your face?” He asked instead of reacting to your half-hearted apology. Oh, right. Embarrassed, you felt your cheeks turning crimson red. You had let your niece put some Halloween make-up on you. There was a giant spider with big orange eyes sitting on your right cheek while she had decorated the left with a black spider web. One thing was for sure, your niece would not become the next Picasso.

“Nothing… my niece thought we should match.” And perhaps next Halloween, she should turn you into a mouse so you could hide in a mouse hole to save yourself from Eric’s scrutinising—and now also downright amused—glance. There was a slight hint of mockery sparkling in his blue eyes as well, so you noticed when he stirred.

“Let me see if I can find something.” Oh. That was unexpected. As he disappeared, leaving his apartment door open, you just stood there dumbfounded all the while your niece tripped on the spot all carefree and blithe. This wasn’t really happening, was it? This was literally your nightmare before Christmas!

About a minute later, Eric returned. In his hands, he held a massive bar of Hershey’s chocolate. It was one of those treats only the leaders of Dauntless were privileged enough to receive every now and then. Your niece’s jaw dropped, eyes widening.

“There you go. You think you’ll be able to carry that?”

“Yes! I’m strong!” She pointed out, emphasising her words by making a muscle with her free arm. “Thank you!” As soon as she had accepted the chocolate, she was already off to the next apartment door. Only you still stood there, seemingly frozen in place.

“Uh… thank you.” You managed to choke out sheepishly.

“You’re welcome…” He mumbled in response. “I’ll see you at the party later.” And with that, he closed the door on you, once again leaving you standing there completely dumbfounded.

You had seen him around on Halloween. Eric never dressed up. Instead, he spent the night sitting at the bar all by himself, occasionally chatting to his fellow leaders and sipping some whiskey—completely unimpressed by his fellow Dauntless members’ craziness and excessive alcohol consumption. In that aspect, he was pretty much like you.

You spent the rest of your niece’s trick or treating pondering over his words. You were certainly overthinking it but what exactly had he meant by that? Did he expect you to show up? You had not planned on going. Would it be rude not to show up now? Jesus, it wasn’t like he had asked you out on a date. Eric was merely not as cold and condescending towards you than to others, perhaps because you always made an effort to be nice and polite to him, especially during your initiation.

And yet, once your niece was returned to your sister and you finally rid yourself of all that make-up on your face, you found yourself picking out something to wear to the party. It was almost like your hot chocolate, book and blanket sighed when you left your apartment and headed to the pit instead.

Halloween was on a full moon this year. Maybe you were going crazy. What were you even expecting? In the end, you settled for wanting to prove to Eric that you were a social person who would not curl up all alone on a day like Halloween—that you were tough; that you were Dauntless.

But you were beginning to regret your decision as soon as you reached the pit. Exuberant laughter and chatting along with loud music nearly blew your ears off, the smell of sweat and alcohol immediately numbing your senses. You coughed a little as you started fighting your way through the dancing crowd, your legs stirring you towards the bar almost automatically. Yep, definitely crazy, you thought to yourself.

At least your make-up was a little more on fleek now. You had gone for a mysterious vamp-look, with smoky eyes and dark-red lipstick, a black dress and your knee-high combat boots to complete your appearance. You felt quite sexy but then again, nothing could quite compete with some cosy pumpkin pyjamas.

“Hey, sweetheart… Can I buy you a drink?” Great. There went another reason for which you hated parties like that. Glancing to your left from the corner of your eye, you spotted an already tipsy man dressed up like a zombie approaching you.

“No, thank you. I can pay for it myself.”

“Don’t have to. I’ll pay for it if you’ll dance with me.”

“No, thank you.” You repeated, a little louder and sterner this time. But instead of letting it go, the man stepped right in front of you. He looked still young, probably among the new recruits who had recently passed initiation.

“What are you so scared of? It’s just a drink.” Only ‘just a drink’ was usually accompanied by the expectation of more than just dancing. You were not wary because of prejudice. You were wary because of personal experience in your old faction and an abusive ex-boyfriend.

“Come on, Drake.” The young man joining him was dressed like a zombie as well. They had done well with their make-up. They were nearly unrecognisable. “It’s not your fault you look like a troll. Allow me to buy the lady a drink.”

Annoyed, you rolled your eyes. “I appreciate it but I don’t want either of you to buy me a drink. Let me through, please.” Perhaps you should go find your friends.

Oh, it had been such a stupid idea to ditch hot chocolate and your warm blanket for this, for Eric. But whatever had gotten into you, you were too stubborn to accept the consequences. Only when you attempted to move past them, they cornered you. Two warm bodies pressed against you, one from the front, one from behind. You shuddered when their hands made a move to wander up and down your arms and waist, moving to the rhythm of the ear-piercing music—and even though everything inside of you screamed to lash out at them and make use of your combat skills, you forced yourself to keep calm.

“Let go of me, you scumbags.” You hissed. You’d give them ten seconds at most. If they did not let go of you until then you would kick the shit out of them. One, two, three…

“You’re in Dauntless, act like it.” They were not entirely wrong, so you hated to admit. The majority of men and women here in Dauntless made no secret out of their countless one-nightstands. Sneaking off and making out in semi-public places was risky, reckless and brave all at the same time—even your friends had told you about the adrenaline rush.

Four, five, six…

“She said no.” A stern voice suddenly came to your rescue. You did not need to turn around to know who it belonged to. Eric stood like a particularly intimidating bouncer. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body as he positioned himself behind you with his arms crossed.

“Eric! Come join us. We should take this happy ensemble to a quieter place. Ever had a foursome, love?”

“She said no. Take your hands off her before I rip them out and throw them down the chasm. Don’t think you’re safe just because you’ve passed initiation now.”

“Geez, spoilsport. Come on, Drake.”

“I was about to handle this myself.” You hastened to explain when they finally staggered off, lifting your chin up in a proud and independent manner. Eric slightly raised his eyebrows. Well, at least the reason for your presence at this uncomfortable party was here now.

“I know.” Apparently, he’d been headed for the bar as well. With your heart in your mouth, you found yourself following him until you finally reached your destination and asked the barkeeper for a cold beer. Eric went with his traditional whiskey.

“You’re shaking.” He remarked, arms crossed on the counter.

“I’m cold.”

“Cold? This is a sauna. You were afraid of what they might do to you.” He said matter-of-factly and oddly, without any hint of scorn in his voice. The urge to react all defensive overwhelmed you nonetheless.

“So? I went through one abusive relationship, I’m not keen on going through that again because some arseholes believe I have to have one-nightstands for the sake of being Dauntless.”

Eric hummed; in silent agreement, probably. For a brief moment, he was still. You took the time to take a few eager sips from your beer. At least that compensated you a little for relinquishing Halloween night as a blanket burrito.

“Your face looks better than before.” He said then.

“Yeah… thanks. I told my niece begged me to do my make-up for her candy hunt. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

The Dauntless leader smirked. “I take it you did not intend for her to knock on my door.”

“No.” No one ever does, you added quietly.

“Well, she seems tough. She should stay in Dauntless once she’s old enough to choose.” He paused.

“I hope so too. ‘Faction before blood’ only sounds easy.”

“Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall. I’m going for a run.” He suddenly commented out of the blue. Your eyes widened. Excuse me?

“Huh?” Frowning, you studied his face, searching for the joke you quite apparently did not understand. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Eric raised his eyebrows once more. “Was I being unclear?”

“Well, no but—“ There was one thing you knew about Eric for certain. You did not defy him. Ever. There was a part of you which wanted to, simply out of spite but the other… the other had dragged you all the way to this party merely because Eric had suggested to ‘see you there’. Heavens, was this really happening? Was the most fearful Dauntless leader of them all actually taking an interest in you? Should you thank your niece for being the trigger… or damn her?

“Good,” He interrupted you harshly, “Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall.” When you said nothing, too flabbergasted to even respond, he simply downed his whiskey and ordered a new one. Well, Happy Halloween to you. It honestly seemed like this was going to be a promising night after all.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[existslikepristin]

What A... Bummer

Desc: The fic that (sort of) started it all. Sorry for the funky formatting, as this was mostly just copy/pasted from Discord, where I ran the polls. You may also find it here if you prefer AFF: https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1462191/what-a-bummer-aka-i-m-so-sorry

Tags: TheLounge, Gfriend, Eunha, Yerin, maleOC"you", mostly butt things, angry bunny, vote story, backlog story

~~~~~

You knock on the dressing room door. Just inside is your Gfriend... as in "good friend" Eunha. Today is a very exciting day, and it's been a long time coming. She released her first solo album at midnight and she was at the first show where she would perform it live in front of a camera.

The two of you have been close... "good friends," as they say, for a while now. And you managed to convince security to let you in so you could give her a gift before she goes on stage. After all, you're proud of her accomplishment!

You hear shuffling inside the room and know she's on her way over. You really hope she likes the present!

What was the present again?

Options: 1. Champagne, baby! You got the expensive stuff! 2. A basket of healthy fruits! You're wholesome as fuck! 3. Your buddy Yerin! Can't celebrate without a good laugh! 4. (Picked:) A buttplug?! Who the fuck do you think you are?

~~~~~

You hold the box behind yourself as the door opens. Just inside is your buddy Eunha, all by herself. Not a surprise since you saw her manager downstairs earlier.

And she looks awesome. Her hair is cut short again, just to her jawline, but instead of curling in like her normal bob, it flares out at the bottom. She's got on a white shirt, cut low enough to just tease at her cleavage (even though you happen to know she's hardly got any cleavage without the pushup). Below she's wearing a super short black skirt, with a slit on one side that nearly reaches her hip bone, but her safety shorts hide the real goods. You know she has some tall black heels for this outfit since you were there when her stylist picked them out, but she's barefoot for now, nails on her fingers and toes painted all black.

She shouts happily and jumps up to wrap her arms around you as soon as she sees you. You barely manage to keep her from dragging you down to the floor, putting your arms around her too. "You came!"

"Of course I did!" you shout, "Congratulations!"

The top of her head barely reaches your chin while she's on her toes. She nuzzles her head into your neck. Her hair dresser would flip her shit, but it's okay if it's just for a second, right?

She suddenly grabs the box from your hand. The sly little idol.

"Yerin told me you were bringing me a present. I thought she might be lying, but..."

Eunha tears the wrapping off the box. You'd be a little offended, but you did the same thing to the last birthday gift she got you.

"Now... what am I supposed to do with this thing?"

Eunha holds up the butt plug. You grin, recognizing the excellence of the thing. Stainless steel, polished like a mirror, a bright red gemstone embedded into it (and yeah, you got a real gem for it), and big. Real big.

Options: 1. (Picked:) "You keep it inside you, once I help put it there." 2. "WOAH. That's not what I thought it was, I swear! Yerin tricked me!" 3. "How the fuck should I know?"

~~~~~

"What are you supposed to do with it?" you ask as you take a couple steps forward.

"You keep it inside you, once I help put it there."

Eunha puts the butt plug up to her mouth. "Like this?" She licks it and puts it in her mouth, as far as she can at least. She looks up into your eyes, looking as innocent as she can. You would almost buy the stupid act too, but you know she's got somewhere to be.

You grab her by the shoulders and spin her around. Then you drop to your knees so your face is directly next to her ass. It takes up your whole field of vision. But still, there's no time to waste. You grab the sides of her safety shorts and yank down. As expected, there's nothing underneath and you can instantly spread her glorious cheeks to be greeted by...

Oh damn, she's already got a plug in.

Eunha giggles above you. "Don't worry. I like yours better. Help me swap them and you can keep that one."

Not a bad solution.

The plug takes a little work to get out. Eunha half-moans, half-laughs as you wiggle it back and forth to get it moving. She reaches back to spread her ass cheeks to give you better access and a fantastic view.

And eventually, with a little pop, the plug comes out. It's much smaller than the one you brought, made of silicon, and much more boring.

You stand and hold it in front of Eunha. She instantly sticks her tongue out to lick off the lube.

"It's almost like you've done this before, isn't it?" you ask with a smirk.

"It's almost like you know that personally," she says over her shoulder.

You take the brand new butt plug out of her hand and get back on your knees. Eunha instinctively spreads her ass again. You can still see some of the glistening of the lube that was there for the last plug, so it's probably at least safe to put the new one in without anything extra. Then again, the new butt plug is pretty big...

1. (Picked:) Stick it in rough. This might mess up her performance, getting you a punishment later. 2. Give her a good lube up with your tongue first. You know from experience that she loves this, and you'll be well rewarded later.

~~~~~

You know, you and Eunha have been good friends for quite a while now. How bad would it really be if you messed up her performance just this once... And besides, her cute, tiny little asshole just needs a real good stretch sometimes right?

Right.

Eunha waves her ass from side to side, bent over a bit, mostly for the presentation. "I'm ready for it. What are you waiting for?"

Well, she said it! You line up the top of the plug at her lube-short hole, earning you a sultry giggle from the idol. You give it a slow twist to one side, the other side, brace your elbow, and shove like you've never shoved before.

You're not quite sure whether or not you were successful. It seems like time slowed down... You felt the tension of her ass resisting the plug up to the widest part, followed by it giving way as it tapered back down. But that only took a second or so, and Eunha didn't react. The dressing room is dead silent.

Then, Eunha falls to the floor. To her knees, then onto her hands. You're more than a little worried, so you move to her side to see her face. Her mouth is open like she's screaming, but there's still no sound, until she whispers, "What... the f-f-fuck... is wrong with you?"

Her eyes slowly turn in your direction so you give her your biggest, winning smile. But there's fire in her eyes. You're suddenly feeling like you may have made a bad choice.

There's a knock on the door and a voice comes through, "Eunha? We'll be starting your stage in five minut--"

"I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!" Eunha screams. You hear the PA muttering as they walk away.

You open your mouth to say something, but you forget what it was when you get smacked in the jaw. Eunha is still holding herself with one hand, but the other is floating menacingly next to your face, nails looking beautiful but also ready to tear you apart.

Clearly trying to compose herself, Eunha lowers her head and whispers again, "Go find Yerin... and wait for the stage... now."

It's probably best not to argue. You get up and and make your way to the door. You turn back to look at her though. She hasn't really moved, and you get a great look at her thicc ass sticking into the air with your plug poking out from between her cheeks.

You know for sure you're going to get punished later, but you think maybe you should say something?

Options: 1. Apologize. You can admit, you fucked up. You'll still get punished, but maybe she'll go easy on you? 2. (Picked:) Never mind, say nothing. You'll obviously just make it worse. 3. Just laugh. Eunha doesn't have connections to any hitmen, does she?

~~~~~

For the sake of your personal safety, you think it's probably best to just go. You slip through the door quickly so nobody can see through the door and make your way to the stage.

Yerin is pretty easy to pick out of the crowd for you, as she's wearing her usual thick sweatshirt, plain jeans, tennis shoes, hat, facemask, and glasses that make it impossible for her to be recognized in public. She's in the back of the crowd, holding a gigantic sign that says "I LOVE YOU EUNHA I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES" as a joke. You remember the first time she said that was when Eunha was fucking her with a strap on. It looks like everyone in the crowd is too busy practicing their fanchant to really notice the overtly sexual (and nonsense) sign.

"Yo slut," you casually say as you walk up next to her.

"About time you got here whore," she says back, clearly grinning mischievously behind the mask. You smirk back.

"So, did she like her gift?"

Your smirk fades, "Uuuh. You know, she will probably have to tell you that herself."

"Mmm, I will. And then I'll take it out of her, put it back in and lick all around it... ugh, I'm so wound up. Hey. If I masturbated while we watch the stage, would you keep an eye out so I don't get caught?"

Options: 1. "Of course! I've always got your back my dude." 2. (Picked:) "You want to do it yourself? But I'm right here." 3. "Woah, Yerin. Don't be so weird. Just enjoy the show like a normal person. Sheesh."

~~~~~

You give Yerin a smirk and move behind her. She points at her eyes and swings her hand in a circle, her nerdy way of telling you to keep watch. You get the feeling she'll enjoy what you have in mind.

After a couple of minutes go by, the fans scream as the stage hands walk off and the lights go dim. You and Yerin join them in the cheer, welcoming your hot little buddy into the spotlight. Yerin holds her sign high and shouts her support.

As the lights come back up, you see Eunha, cool and calm like the professional she is, with her backup dancers. You're a little surprised (and slightly disappointed) at her exceptional composure.

The first note of the song hits and the crowd instantly shuts up, ready to fanchant like hell. That's when you seize the chance to shove your hand down the back of Yerin's jeans and pop the still-lubed butt plug (the one you took out of Eunha earlier and never did get rid of) into Yerin's ass. It slides in like butt...er.

Eunha jumps into her dance and Yerin jumps up and down with the music with no regard for your hand down her pants. You feel like you might get a rash. But either way, you soldier on and reach in further, until you can touch her clit.

There's one move in Eunha's dance that draws a big gasp from the crowd, where she bends over and presents her ass. Her safety shorts hide the butt plug... for anyone who isn't paying close attention. They aren't especially good at hiding how deep the crack of her ass is, and there's just one very slightly bulged out part.

Yerin moans back at you, "Holy shit, she is so fucking hot up there," as she grinds herself down against your hand, drowning your fingers in her juices. "I just want to sit on her face, pull her legs back and pump a dildo into her helpless butt."

You smile at the thought. Maybe Yerin will be on your side if Eunha is still angry when you meet back up, considering that she also wants to destroy Eunha's asshole.

Yerin doesn't quite cum before the song is over. You take your hand out of her pants just in time not to be seen by all of the fans turning around to leave. She groans in frustration.

"Let's run to the dressing room and see if she can finish me off. I was so close!"

Options: 1. "Hey wait. She might be a little mad. I may have done something a little mean..." 2. (Picked:) "Yeah, definitely! Let's go get those shorts off her!"

~~~~~

You confidently walk through the halls next to Yerin. The whole time, Yerin bounces up and down, distracting you with the constant thought of ass. A couple times she even turns her head, sees you staring, winks, and spanks herself. You forget entirely about the confession you considered making.

Once at the dressing room, you see that the door is already open. Weird?

Yerin jumps through the door and shouts "YEAH EUNHA!"

The display of enthusiasm is met with silence. Yerin scratches her head and walks further into the room. "Maybe her mic got stuck in her hair?" she ponders.

You walk in too. You're about to comment, but there's a sudden sharp pain in the back of your neck. You attempt to put your hand up to slap at whatever bug got in here, but your hand just falls limp. So do your legs. And your vision goes dark as you vaguely feel yourself falling to the floor.

* * *

"He's waking up," you hear a garbled voice say. All you can see are blurry shapes as you open your eyes, but they come into focus very slowly.

"Don't stop!" another garbled voice shouts, making you suddenly feel a pounding in your head. Did you go too hard on some vodka?

The voices (or just one voice really) start clearing up. You hear Yerin moaning, turning slowly into a scream. And eventually your eyes confirm it.

About ten feet in front of you, Yerin's face and torso are pressed against a bed, with her butt held up against Eunha's face. Her legs are trembling wildly. Eunha's hands are gripping Yerin's hips tight, her eyes are closed, and her legs are folded underneath her. They're both entirely naked, and you have a side view of it all.

It would be a little more exciting if you weren't chained by the legs and wrists to a wooden chair.

And you look down to see that you're naked too, other than some kind of device locked very uncomfortably around your dick.

There's a thud as Eunha drops Yerin onto the bed. Yerin is apparently exhausted by the orgasm she just had, because she's not moving.

Eunha shakes her head to refluff her hair that was being pressed against her cheeks and looks at you.

"Good morning," she says blandly.

You try to respond but your tongue feels weird and doesn't move properly so you kind of just blubber.

Eunha slides off the bed and takes a few steps to stand right in front of you. A tiny drop of her cum falls from her pussy onto your knee. Damn, they must have been at this for a while.

Her entire body is bare in front of you, practically on top of you, and it's so incredibly sexy. Under normal circumstances, this is when she would sit down and ride you for hours. But she isn't sitting down, and your dick is being painfully stopped from getting hard by the contraption it's in.

"So... do you have anything to say now?"

Options: 1. Yup. Apologize. 2. (Picked:) Yeah, you enjoyed her solo debut! 3. Nope. Nothing to say. 4. Yes.. BeGONE, THOT

~~~~~

You smirk, ever so slightly unsure of yourself, or if what you're saying is a good idea. The corner of your mouth trembles as you say, "Yeah, I really liked your solo debut. You did great up there."

Eunha leans over, putting her hands on the back of the chair you're tied to. It would be a great chance to stare at her perky little titties up close if her threatening gaze wasn't holding your eyes. Her face comes in closer. You can feel her fuming hot nose breaths on your forehead. Your own breath is caught in your throat, and your lungs start to burn with how long she stares you down.

"Be glad I'm a professional. And thanks," she says, very flatly.

As she stands back up and turns away from you, and you release a huge sigh of relief.

"Yerin, over here please. I'm going to need your tongue in my ass."

With a groan, Yerin rolls off the bed and crawls to Eunha, kneeling between her and you. Eunha leans forward, putting her hands on the bed for support. If there was any question about what your punishment was before now, it was pretty clear now.

Eunha spreads her ass, her perfectly painted black nails creating a frame for the asshole you love so much. It's only a few feet away from you. You can feel your dick trying to harden but the cage just makes it... well it doesn't hurt, but it's extremely uncomfortable.

And then Yerin's head appears between you and that beautiful butt. Her hands grip onto the backs of Eunha's thighs, squeezing the flawless flesh as if she were trying to hold herself up on the edge of a cliff. You know the exact moment when Yerin's tongue meets Eunha's ass. The shorty has a very characteristic half-squeal-half-moan that comes out of her every time something wet touches it. You might have thought you could look away to stop the discomfort in your cock, but that sound brings back too many memories of your entire face being buried in those cheeks.

"Oh... Oh yes. Good girl."

You watch as Eunha slowly pushes back against Yerin's face, over and over. It lasts for hours? Days? You could never tell. Her squeals and encouragement get louder, more urgent. You can't help but let out a quiet groan of your own.

But like the rabbit she is, Eunha heard. She twists her upper body to look at you without disturbing Yerin. "What was that? Do you want to fuck this ass? Do you-- fuck..."

Her eyes screw shut as a brief shiver of pleasure runs through her body. You can see her legs quaking for a moment. She's close.

"Do you want Yerin's pretty little mouth to dip up and down on your cock to lube you up for-- fffuck!"

Again, a shiver. It's longer this time, and Eunha almost falls, her feet sliding a few inches farther apart before she catches herself. There's a loud slurping noise as Yerin moves to accomodate the change and gets a much needed breath of air.

One of Eunha's hands shoots to her inner thigh and you can barely see past Yerin's shoulder that she's squeezing herself tight. She would often remind you about how she would do that to make her orgasms more intense, so now you know exactly what (or rather, who) is coming.

Even so, she manages to gasp out nearly a full sentence, "You want my ass clenching around your cock when--" The last word melts into one long squeal and trails off from there into a silent scream. Her whole body shakes violently except where Yerin is holding her down tight.

You could swear it lasts for a whole minute. Agonizing for you and Eunha in different ways. But when she collapses face first onto the bed, her knees hitting the floor softly as Yerin guides her down, it's over. Except for the few extra twitches when Yerin gives her ass a couple of licks. You release a long breath that you didn't even realize you were holding.

Yerin climbs up to cuddle Eunha from behind, kissing her neck, shoulders, and back. The two of them giggle lightly at the gentle touches, making no move to point their beautiful, still-wet asses away from you.

"Time for your fanmeet?" Yerin asks softly after a minute or two.

Eunha sighs and pulls herself away from Yerin. "Yes, I guess we should get going."

As you expected, you're not getting any. At least not soon. You casually watch the members making their way around the room, collecting their clothes and getting dressed back up.

And notably, not untying you.

"That sure was amazing," you say, suddenly nervous, "Maybe I should help set up the chairs for the fanmeet?"

Yerin chuckles, "They're already set up, man."

"But... the audio right? You know? Do some mic checks?"

Eunha stands in front of a mirror, brushing her hair to get it back to looking presentable. "Oh that's fine. Manager's taken care of it."

You struggle to think of something else to say, or to think of what's about to happen.

"But don't worry," Eunha struts over to you and pats your knee, "SinB will be coming in after the fanmeet to let you go."

You groan. SinB rejects you any time she thinks it would be funny, which is literally every time. She probably won't even unlock the cage on your dick.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Eunha smooches your forehead like you're a pet she's leaving home for the day, and then drops a key down her shirt and into her bra. It's not hard to guess what the key is for. "And when I do, I'll have cheered up, and I'll bounce on your cock harder than you can imagine."

Yerin draws in a sharp breath somewhere behind you. She's probably planning on being around whenever that happens. You can't help but look forward to it, though it sounds like twenty-four hours of torture for you until then.

The lovely ladies zip out of the room before you can get in another word, leaving you to the inevitable humiliation SinB will have for you... in an hour or two.

THE END

[knightjane]

A while ago I got asked to write a modern au where Obi-Wan and Anakin get in a fight about how to best care for the twins. (All fluff!) This is what I came up with. (It's based off the episode of full house 'yours, mine, and ours.')

Obi-Wan sat on the couch eating strawberries with a bored look on his face. With a sigh he slumped further down the couch, his eyes once again landing on the door, waiting for the moment Anakin and Luke got back from their trip to the store.

Finally after another few minutes the door to the house opened and Obi-Wan stood up, smiling when he saw Anakin walk in with a bright smile on his face. "I'm hoooome!" Anakin yelled obnoxiously and Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel slight relief. He was happy he wouldn't have to sit alone anymore. Of course he enjoyed his breaks but at the moment he had been missing Anakin dearly.

The wind blew harshly behind Anakin, filling the living room with cold air and snow before being quickly shut. In Anakin's right hand he carried a one year old Luke who lay in his plastic portable car seat.

Practically skipping over to Obi-Wan, Anakin sat the baby on the small coffee table in front of the couch before giving Obi-Wan a little hug which he returned the best he could. When they parted Obi-Wan's eyes immediately fell to Luke. His smile sunk as soon as he saw exactly what Luke was wearing, or in other words, what he wasn't wearing. Obi-Wan turned his eyes back up to Anakin who seemed to think there was nothing wrong as he still hadn't seemed to remove the huge smile that was covering his face.

"Anakin...Luke isn't wearing a hat." Concern was evident in Obi-Wan's voice as his eyes narrowed on Anakin. Thank goodness Anakin had remembered a coat this time but Luke's ears just had to be freezing, Obi-wan thought to himself. 

The other man looked down at Luke for just a moment. "We were only outside for a minute," Anakin said, still very obviously not seeing the problem as he carelessly set the bags on the table, revealing he hadn't just gotten the baby food Obi-Wan had asked but chips too.

With a sigh Obi-Wan turned away from Luke and the bags to look up at Anakin. He raised an eyebrow, hoping he wouldn't have to elaborate further on why bringing a baby out in the cold without a hat was a bad idea. Anakin shrugged. "What?"

"Anakin, Luke could have gotten frost bite. Look at how red his cheeks are." Both Anakin and Obi-Wan look down at Luke.

Anakin chuckled. "Little tomato." Obi-Wan crossed his arms in a frustrated manner. Anakin sighed. "Obi, he always looks like a tomato. It's his natural tone." Anakin gently pinched Luke's cheek, making the little boy giggle. Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile only slightly at Luke's happiness but the smile faded quickly as he remembered he had to be stern.

"Anakin! Next time you bring him outside you need to put a hat on him!" Obi-Wan reached down to touch Luke's head. "Anakin, he's freezing," he scolded.

Anakin huffed. "He's fine." Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, making Anakin whine. "It was two minutes. I shielded him from the snow. He only went to the car and back Obi-Wan." Anakin paused for a moment before adding. "Look, not even Padme is this over protective of the kids."

Obi-Wan hummed, a determined look forming in his eyes. "Oh really?"

Anakin nodded. "Oh yeah. She would think it's fine!"

Obi-Wan huffed definitely. "Okay, then let's talk to her."

Anakin froze. "Talk to her?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "If you are so confident bringing Luke out into the snow without a hat is fine, then let's call her and ask."

Anakin pouted. "Obi!" Obi-Wan doesn't relent. Eventually Anakin sighed and pulled out his phone. "You're really going to make me call her about this?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm trying to prove a point."

Anakin sighed and quickly called Padme, putting the phone on speaker. Padme picked up the phone almost immediately. "What did you do?"

Anakin chocked. "Nothing!"

Obi-Wan hummed. "Anakin..." he warned.

"Why do you always think I did something wrong?" Anakin whined into the phone.

Padme hummed. "Sorry Ani. Is Obi-Wan being mean to you again?" Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan who was once again raising an eyebrow at him. Anakin chuckled nervously.

"N-No," he said in a small voice. "I umm, well you see...the thing is-"

Obi-Wan interjected. "He brought Luke out into the cold without a hat."

Anakin gasped. "For two minutes!"

Padme sighed. "Sorry Anakin. But Luke should have been in a hat." Anakin whined and Obi-Wan smirked only just big enough for Anakin to notice. "Why wasn't he in a hat again?" Padme questioned with the slightest bit of exasperation.

"I brought him to the store with me and then back to the house. He was only outside for a short time. His baby ears could handle it." Anakin turned to Luke. "Luke, back me up here."

Anakin held the phone up to Luke's mouth. "Da," Luke mumbled.

Anakin looked oddly proud of him and patted him on the head. "Good boy." He spoke back into the phone. "See, fine."

Padme sighed into the phone. "Just..." A pause."Those twins better be alive when I pick them up tomorrow. Work this out among yourselves."

"Yes Padme," Anakin and Obi-Wan both respond in unison.

"Good," Padme said before hanging up, already seeming to be done with both of them.

After the call ended Anakin pouted and turned away from Obi-Wan. He eventually looked at Luke and started taking him out of his seat while mumbling. "Everyone is always so mean to me." He set Luke on the carpet and handed him a small toy that was laying on the coffee table. Luke hit the toy against the ground excitedly and squealed.

"I am not mean to you. I just...I worry Anakin." Anakin was about to respond when Leia let out a cry from her crib in the other room. Anakin bolted from his place on the carpet and ran to help Leia. Obi-Wan quickly followed, leaving Luke alone with his toy. 

When Obi-Wan entered the room Anakin had already started bouncing Leia on his hip. As he bounced Leia he looked down at Obi-Wan with that classic pout he always seemed to wear when Obi-Wan scolded him. "You know, if you were the only one in charge of raising Luke he'd grow up to be pampered. He can handle a minute in the cold. I was protecting him."

Obi-Wan huffed. "And if you raised Leia she wouldn't be pampered either?"

Anakin looked away, trying not to seem embarrassed. "Well....not as soft as yours."

"Anakin, you try to give them a present everyday, they would be spoiled," Obi-Wan retorted, thoughts of all the unnecessary gifts Anakin had already bought filling his head.

Anakin snorted. "They would have all the materials they needed."

Obi-Wan briefly bit his bottom lip, not wanting to laugh. "You mean children need a five pound water gun incase they, and I quote, 'need to soak a bitch.' Anakin they can't even walk yet."

Anakin let's out a loud, unashamed laugh. "I don't even remember saying that."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Well you did."

"I swear sometimes I am so funny! I truly crack mys-" Anakin stopped when he saw Obi-Wan glaring at him again.

"Anakin, you must admit. Sometimes you pamper the twins as much as I do," Obi-Wan said, his tone lightening to a more playful one.

Anakin sighed. "Sometimes! Only sometimes!"

Obi-Wan hummed. "Then I assume you didn't buy the twins any toy when you went to the store less than an hour ago."

Anakin shoved a hand in his pocket, still holding Leia on his hip with his other arm. "I...how dare you accuse me of such things!"

Obi-Wan looked down at Anakin's pocket then back up. "What's in your pocket?" Anakin opened his mouth to interject but Obi-Wan stopped him. "Show me."

Anakin whined and pulled out a weird looking stuffed duck about the size of his fist.

"And what is that?" Obi-Wan asked while trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Anakin looked down. "A stuffed duck...for Luke. He was....he just kept trying to grab it. Plus....I already named it so no returns."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes fondly. "Oh Anakin....just tell me the name."

Anakin was silent for a moment. "Mr. Quaker," he mumbled.

Obi-Wan rubbed a hand over his face. "What did I get into?" He asked himself.

Anakin put the duck back in his pocket and giggled. "Aww, what do you mean? You love me. And you love the fact I'm willing to spoil the twins every chance I get." Anakin inched closer and Obi-Wan who sighed, smiling just slightly.

"It is slightly endearing," Obi-Wan relented.

Anakin smirked. "See, I told you. You adore me."

Obi-Wan giggled. "Yes fine, I adore you." Anakin was about to say something more when a loud cry from the other room startled them both.

Anakin and Obi-Wan both stare at each other before Anakin pushed Leia into Obi-Wan's arms and rushed out of the room. Panicked as well, Obi-Wan carefully set down Leia, rubbing her cheek affectionately before he left.

Obi-Wan walked to the living room and gasped when he saw Luke. Luke's face had swollen slightly. A smashed strawberry lay in front of the baby, indicating he had eaten it or at least tried. Anakin picked Luke up and Obi-Wan walked closer to pick up the smashed strawberry. "I never put them away." He whispered to himself, shame instantly filling him.

Anakin looked at Luke. "He's never had strawberries before, I think he's allergic. Obi-Wan what do we do?"

Obi-Wan panicked as he looked at Luke. "I'll call a doctor." He ran off while Anakin comforted Luke. Obi-Wan didn't know how he could be so irresponsible. He was an idiot. This was worse than bringing the baby out in the cold without a hat for two minutes. He should have known those strawberries were low enough for Luke to grab them. Here he was lecturing Anakin when he was the one that needed to be punished.

About five minutes later Obi-Wan rushed back in on the phone. On the other end the doctor asked questions about Luke, Obi-Wan giving him as many details as he could. Obi-Wan then ran to the kitchen and ran back in less than a minute holding an ice pack wrapped in a towel, he pressed it gently to Luke's head.

After about two more minutes Obi-Wan hung up. Anakin looked nervously at him. "So? What do we do?"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "We got lucky, the allergic reaction wasn't that serious. All Luke needs is time and ice." Obi-Wan and Anakin both study Luke, relieved when they see the swelling had started to go down just slightly. Obi-Wan looked guiltily at Anakin. "I'm sorry for being such a hypocrite. Here I was lecturing you about bringing Luke out into the cold when I was irresponsible enough to leave strawberries low enough to the ground that Luke could eat them."

A soft expression came over Anakin's features as he stared at Obi-Wan. "It's okay Obi-Wan. We all make mistakes." Anakin smirked slightly. "Plus, we're even now."

Obi-Wan groaned. "Yes, even."

Anakin chuckled. "I will be telling Padme about this though."

Obi-Wan nodded, his cheeks turning a little red with embarrassment. "Yeah....I know."

Anakin leaned down and kissed Obi-Wan's forehead. Obi-Wan looked up at him with a tiny smile and Anakin returned it with a gentle one. "I love you Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan looked at him with a fond yet knowing smile. "I know."

Request by @kcat92 Thank you so much! I loved writing it! 🥰

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (5/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

ao3 : beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

-/-

Emma likes seafood.

She likes seafood, but she mostly eats like a ten-year-old boy. Apparently, there’s a little place near her house called Granny’s where she devours grilled cheese and onion rings like arteries aren’t a thing. It makes him laugh when she tells him because she eats how he’s always dreamed of eating. The only time he ever gets the chance is when he’s with his nieces and they convince him to get them food Elsa and Liam never let them get.

She also likes 80’s music, has been working at the Blue Dog for over half a decade, prefers her kickboxing classes to cycling ones, and her favorite color is blue.

That last one was a bit of a throwaway question, but he asked it anyway. Then, of course, he made sure to let her know that his eyes were blue. He got an eye roll and a ‘shut up’ for that before she started rolling her hips again. It was damn distracting, but he didn’t stop laughing at how frustrated she was that he wasted his one personal question a day on that.

One personal question a day.

It’s childish, but he thinks it works. It keeps the line between them defined. He knows what this is, has done it enough times before to not be blind to it. They’re both visitors in each other’s lives. They have expiration dates, and when there’s an expiration date, there’s no harm in spending time together.

There’s no commitment, so there’s no hurt.

He’s not an expert on Emma Swan, no matter how much she fascinates him, but he gets the feeling she’s avoiding relationships just as much as he is. There is a past hurt there, a damned painful one, and if anyone gets that, it’s him.

But he doesn’t ask about that in his one question a day. He asks for her favorite color and food and if she’d rather hike uphill for 10 miles or swim for 20.

For the record, she’d rather hike because she could sit down and eat along the way.

“Would you look at that?” Emma says as she runs her hands under the water of the sink at the bar. “You, sitting at this bar, again.”

He slices his salmon with his knife and grins. “I tried that Granny’s place, but the food had too much grease. Met a rather charming waitress, though.”

“Let me guess. Red streak in her hair, boobs on full display, argued with the owner the entire time?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because that’s Ruby, my best friend.”

“Is she now?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“Is that your personal question of the day?”

“Nope,” he says, taking a bite of his food. “I’m saving that for a later time.”

“A later time,” Emma repeats, like she’s considering the words. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the bar. “What makes you think you’re going to be seeing me at a later time? This isn’t enough for you?”

He looks around them and leans closer to her. “Too many clothes.”

Emma laughs, legitimately, and that feels surprisingly good. “I’m literally in a tank top and shorts. That’s about as dressed down as you can get.”

“I was talking about myself, actually. There are too many clothes on me, but it’s nice to know you think so highly of yourself.”

That gets him another laugh and a shake of her head, and he likes that too. He may have no real inclination to become overly attached to her, but he can at least admit to himself that he enjoys her company.

“Shut up.” Someone calls Emma’s name from across the restaurant, and she holds her arm up, putting up one finger. “I get off at The Oaks at eleven. I’ll drop by your place if I’m not too tired.”

“Why the hell are you working there so much?”

“I like the money. And, Jones, that counts as your personal question of the day. I’ll see you later...maybe.”

She grins and winks before walking away, and he swears she puts a little extra sway in her hips. Killian shakes his head as he feels his own smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What a bloody woman,” he whispers to himself before spearing another piece of his salmon.

-/-

“Right there,” she moans. “Like, seriously, right there. Don’t fucking change anything.”

Kilian smiles against her, but he’s quick to return to what he was doing. Emma’s legs tighten over his shoulders, her hands yank at the sheets, and as much as he is throbbing right now, it’s bloody glorious to have her like this. The filter is gone, so too are the reservations, and he gets a bit of satisfaction knowing this is him doing this to her.

His only skills aren’t on the football pitch after all.

He is definitely a bastard for thinking that right now, but he’s never claimed to be otherwise.

“Fuck,” Emma huffs after she comes down from her high. Her legs shiver over his shoulder, thighs tightening so all the sounds fade for a moment, but then her legs fall and all sounds come back in screaming color. “What did I do to deserve that so early in the morning?”

“It’s ten, love.”

“Yeah, that’s early on my day off.”

Killian laughs and kisses the inside of Emma’s thigh before making his way up her body, planting a final one underneath her collarbone before he collapses on his side of the bed and pulls the sheets above his waist.

“It’s not early for the rest of the world.” He smiles, which she doesn’t appreciate, and she sinks further into the bed, yanking the covers over her. He can still see her flushed cheeks and the slightest content smile on her face. “You should try it sometime. See the sunrise, dodge early morning joggers, eat breakfast at a normal time.”

“Trust me, I’m usually up early enough to want to drive into the early morning joggers while I have a Pop Tart hanging out of my mouth. My summer schedule is just...it’s different than usual.”

He has questions about that. It’s something she’s alluded to before, but he doesn’t know if she’ll count that as his question of a day.

He’s thirty-five years old, and he doesn’t know if he can ask the woman he’s sleeping with more than one question about her life. He knows he’s fucked up a lot, but this seems to be the culmination of several screw ups in his own life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on that. Well, no, he has all the time in the world, but lately, the boredom has dissipated, the loneliness too.

Lately, he’s got a damn good distraction, and he’s not about to fuck that up.

Emma flips over on her side, her hair a wild, curly mess. She used his pool last night and didn’t wash her hair after. It’s made it even crazier than usual. He thinks he likes it. Makes her seem less reserved.

His phone rings on his bedside table, and he leans over to pick it up.

“Hello, darling.” Emma’s brow raises, but he ignores her. “How are you?”

“Good,” Elsa says. “We’re all good. The girls are in the garden right now, running around and getting all their energy out. I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

“I’ve been...busy.”

Emma’s hand finds his thigh, and his leg jumps before steadying. She is not about to do what he thinks she’s about to do. Bloody hell.

“Busy?” Elsa asks, as Emma’s hand walks a little closer to his groin. “Doing what? Have you made friends?”

“Why do you always ask me that like I’m a child?”

“Because you’re basically my baby brother.” Killian laughs and then hisses as Emma’s hand wraps around him. She smirks, obviously satisfied with herself, and he knows she’s doing it for the reaction above anything else.

Tease.

He doesn’t mind.

Except this is a poor idea.

“I believe I’m actually older than you.”

“Semantics.”

He laughs again, and Emma’s hand starts working a little more. Fuck. He needs her to stop, and even though she’s doing delicious things to him, she is looking away, acting as bored as can be. And maybe she is, but then he sees one corner of her mouth tick up.

“Mum, is that Killian?” he hears Ally ask, echoed by a squeal from Sophia, who is obviously having the time of her life. There’s a bit of a shuffle, some muted voices, and then his niece’s voice comes through. “When are you coming home?”

“Hello, Ally,” he says, his voice going high when Emma moves her thumb. “How is one of my favorite nieces doing?”

Emma immediately stops and yanks her hand away, practically falling off the bed. She catches herself and kicks up, moving the comforter up and nearly pulling it off him.

“What the actual fuck?” she whispers hisses, slapping him.

He ignores her as Ally asks again when he’s coming home.

“At the end of September, sweetheart,” he promises. “I’ll come home, and then I am going to kiss you right on the cheek.”

“Ew,” she complains, and he can imagine her nose scrunching.

“I also might give you a present.”

“I like that better.”

“Good. I thought you would.” he watches Emma get up and pull a t-shirt out of a drawer. It’s an old Man. United shirt, and he pretends that doesn’t do a damn thing to him, especially since she was just working him up a minute ago. “Listen, Ally, darling, will you hand the phone to your mum? I - ”

“Sophia, that is my hat! Do not wear it!”

And then the line goes dead, and he wonders how long it’ll be before Elsa gets back to her phone and calls him back.

“You let me do that to you while you were on the phone with your niece?” Emma mumbles, pulling the shirt down then pulling her hair into a mess of a knot on the top of her head. He’s not sure if she’s annoyed or amused. “I hate you.”

“Technically, at first it was my sister-in-law,” he corrects, tapping his head.

“That doesn’t make it any better.” Emma gets back in the bed, pulling the comforter all the way up to her chin, and then she shuffles a little further into the bed before sitting up against the headboard and groaning into her hands. “I am mortified.”

“I did stop you when Ally took the phone,” he points out before pulling at the arm of her shirt. “Nice shirt.”

Killian stands from the bed and walks toward his bathroom, grabbing his briefs along the way. “It’s comfortable,” Emma says. “Is this the team you played for?”

Killian stops, the tile cool against his feet, and then keeps moving, leaving the door cracked as he gets half dressed and starts brushing his teeth. As good as it was a few minutes ago, the mood is gone.

Especially now.

How the hell does she know he used to play football? And how long has she known that? Is that why...no, that couldn’t be why, but he knows that’s why a lot of women have.

“A long time ago,” he says, spitting out toothpaste. “I was with Chelsea when I retired.”

“Is that another team?”

“Uh, yeah,” he laughs, continuing to brush his teeth but sticking his head out of his bathroom door. “You didn’t know that?”

Emma shrugs as she types on her phone. “I don’t know anything about soccer. I only know you played because Ruby internet stalked you a few weeks ago and showed me your Instagram. I literally thought you were just one of those adults who is really into his hobbies.”

Killian nearly lets out a sigh, but he stops himself and turns back around to the sink to spit again before rinsing his brush. He looks up at the mirror. His hair is disheveled, there are lines around his eyes and on his forehead, and his stubble is growing to the point where a beard is beginning to form. He’ll shave later.

So Emma doesn’t know anything about football then. Or him, for that matter. He’s not sure he entirely believes her, that she didn’t look up any more about him, and he doesn’t like that uncertainty. Usually, when he meets someone, they have the upper hand and know the surface layer of all the dirty details of his life.

They usually don’t care to find out the real stories. Not that most of them redeem him in any way.

“Not a hobby,” he says, taming his hair with his hands. “It was a damn good job.” He leaves the bathroom and leans against the doorframe. “You ever play?”

She laughs and puts her phone down. “No.”

“Not even as a kid? Come on. I hear every lass in America plays as a kid.”

“Is that your question of the day?”

Damn. “No.” Killian walks toward the bed and puts his hands on either side of Emma’s head on the headboard, leaning in close. He sees her chest rise, and he smirks. “My question is to ask you to stay in bed with me all day. What do you say, Swan?”

She sits up, and her lips lightly brush against his mouth when she talks. “You should have asked me about the soccer because I was already planning on staying here the entire day.”

“Really now?”

“If we can get crepes delivered from this place that’s, like, ten minutes from here.”

Killian kisses her, long and slow until there’s heat simmering low in his belly. “As you wish.”

-/-

Emma doesn’t come over every night. Nor does he go to her place. But it seems that way as July rolls by, full of hot days that seem to linger forever. Killian finds himself busy during the days. Emma usually has work early in the mornings, so if she’s staying over, she leaves before eight. He doesn’t know how she has time to breathe working at both the Tavern and The Oaks, but she makes it work. When she leaves, he gets up and uses the gym in the basement of the house, going through his tried and true routines before he laces up his trainers and either runs on the beach or on the sidewalks through his little area of the vineyard. He finds the sidewalks are better for his knees, so he tends to stick with that and leaves walking on the beach for his afternoon phone calls with Elsa and the girls or Ariel and Eric.

It’s a routine, one that changes during the day, but for the first time since he got here, he doesn’t hate every damn day. He doesn’t spend his time actively having to try not drink or thinking about Liam or football. He practically buys out a local bookstore and goes through the novels faster than he has in years. He visits different restaurants, museums, goes along with some tourist activities he finds online, and he explores any shop that strikes his fancy.

And while his routine changes, there is one constant: he eats a meal at the Blue Dog Tavern.

At first, he thought Emma would kick him out for it, but now, she often comes and sits with him for a few minutes or sends him a drink from her office. He always sits in Ashley’s section and lets her talk about her growing belly even if he knows little about pregnancy, and he spends at least an hour eating and watching all the people around him.

It’s a hell of a lot better than the twenty-four-hour diners with sticky floors and bad coffee.

Killian shoves his keys in his pocket and pushes open the door to the Blue Dog. Marina greets him, telling him to seat himself anywhere in Ashely’s section, so he goes to his favorite booth and settles down. He can’t see the television from it, so it’s the perfect spot to completely escape from the world with no risk of his past showing up right before his eyes.

He may be feeling better, may be able to have a drink or too at night without wanting to have five more, but he knows he’s possibly only one bad day from it all coming undone, the thread unraveling faster than he can wind it back up.

“Tea or coffee today, Killian?” Ashley asks, notepad in hand.

“Tea, I think, but not the blasted stuff you gave me last time.”

She laughs and writes down his drink order. “Do you know what you want to eat already or should I come back?”

He hands her the menu. “The daily special and a side salad.”

“Perfect. I’ll be back with that as soon as possible.”

“No need to rush,” he says, smiling. “Is - ”

“She’s filling out orders for next week, but I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Ashley winks before walking away, and Killian wonders what the hell everyone in this restaurant thinks of him and Emma. It must be peculiar, but if he’s picked up anything from Emma, it’s that she likely doesn’t share much about her personal life with her employees. She surely won’t tell him that he’s the man she’s sleeping with for the summer, but they might pick up on that on their own.

The food here is good, but it’s not every day good.

He’s finished his salad and half of his sandwich when she comes out from the back. Today, she’s already in the black dress she wears to The Oaks, and her hair is pushed back into a ponytail. She looks exhausted, and unfortunately, the reason has nothing to do with him.

“I only have a second to say hi,” she says, sliding into the booth and grabbing a roll from the basket, breaking off a piece and popping it into her mouth. “We are having an issue with our fish orders, and it’s an absolute nightmare.”

“That sounds like I won’t be ordering any fish this week.”

Emma takes another bite of her bread. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Do you want to come to my place tonight? I’m off at ten.”

“Sure.” He picks at the bread on his sandwich. “Though, the last time I was at your place, that damn crab pillow ended up in the bed, and I didn’t appreciate that.”

Her nose scrunches with her laugh. “I hate that thing too, but Ariel loves it.”

“You live in that house the entire year. Why don’t you redecorate it for your taste?”

Her shoulders tense, and she stops chewing before slowly starting again. He already knows this is going to be his personal question of the day. Sometimes she forgets about it and lets the conversation flow freely, but when he hits a nerve, she’s more on her guard.

He gets it. He can be the same way.

“Personal question,” she says, and he knows her better than he should. “And I’ve redone my bedroom and little bits in the kitchen and living room, but I don’t know. I guess I keep it how the Fishers have it because it’s their home. There are memories there, and I don’t want to take any of those away for when I do eventually get another place. It’s....it’s good to have a family home with memories.”

Killian arches his brow, but Emma looks away, picking at the roll again. He never really had a family home, not after his mum died and his dad became obsessed with using Killian’s football skills for his own fortune, but he likes that sentiment.

A family home with memories. Good ones. That would be the dream.

“What about you?” she asks, changing the subject before he can press further. “Aren’t you excited to get back to your place where all the stuff is yours? You’re living in a place that’s not your own, so I’m sure you’re ready to get back to your family.”

She doesn’t mean anything by it, but her words cut. He’s here because he lost the one person in his family who he was closest to, but he doesn’t want to talk about that, not now. This is supposed to be a good time. It isn’t supposed to be about dark histories.

“I’m enjoying my time here,” he answers honestly. “There’s this woman who is an absolute spitfire, and she’s been occupying most of my time. I’ve been, well, metaphorically tied up in bed too much to think of returning home.”

“Ha, ha,” she monotones with a roll of her eyes. “That’s not what I - ”

“Hi!”

They both turn, and Emma’s friend Mary Margaret is standing there, bouncing back and forth on her toes. “Hi, Marg,” Emma says. “You’re early.”

“I know. I got finished tutoring early, so I thought I’d drop by. I didn’t know you’d have...other company.”

“Nice to see you again,” Killian says, nodding at Mary Margaret.

“Yeah, nice to see you.” Mary Margaret seems hesitant, like she didn’t meet him weeks ago at dinner, and he wonders just how much she knows about his arrangement with Emma. From what he’s learned, they seem close, but he also knows Ruby is Emma’s more...accepting friend. “How are you?”

“I’m good, love. Just badgering Emma at work. I’m surprised she hasn’t kicked me out yet.”

“Annoy me a little too much, and I will.” Her ankle hooks with his under the table, and Killian bites his lip to keep from smiling too much. “So, what’s up, Marg? Why’d you want to drop by? Have you heard of this thing called phones?”

Mary Margaret chuckles before sliding into the booth next to Emma. Emma’s ankle unhooks from his, and he tucks his feet under the booth. “So, you know how David wants to have that big barbecue for all of our friends and neighbors?”

“Yeah, you guys do it every year because you’re insane.”

“Anyway,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, “we were wondering if we could get the Blue Dog to cater some of the sides. I know you guys don’t cater, but we could pay extra. Please.”

“You do know there are restaurants who do cater who could handle this?”

“Yes, but we love the food here. Killian gets it, right?”

“Uh, yes,” he mumbles, not sure what he’s supposed to say. From Emma’s death glare, he knows he’s chosen incorrectly. Bloody hell. “I love it.”

“Exactly,” Mary Margaret says. “We’ll pay extra. Promise. In tips so the staff can get it instead of the owners.”

Emma sighs and sinks into the booth, crossing her arms over her chest. “I need to know the order at least two weeks ahead of time, and it’s going to take me some time to figure out how much you guys need to pay.”

“Ahhhh, perfect!” Mary Margaret hugs Emma before sliding out of the booth. “You’re the best! I can’t wait to call David! Oh, and Killian, you should come too. It’s on August 14th. We’d love to have you there.”

Killian scratches his ear and nods, flashing her a tight smile. He doesn’t think Emma would welcome him at a party full of her friends, so he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable no matter how nice it might be to be in a large group of people.

“He’ll be there,” Emma says, surprising him, and he feels her toe tap his shin. “If he can make it, of course. You know, he has a very busy social calendar.”

“I wonder why that is, darling.” He winks, making Emma smile, and he taps his toes into hers right back. “I’ve heard you keep pretty busy as well.”

Emma’s mouth gapes before closing, and her green eyes widen, lashes nearly hitting against her brows. “Ass.”

“Well, I know you like - ”

“Okay.” Mary Margaret claps her hands together. “I’ve got to go. Emma, I’ll send you the menu after I talk to David tonight. And Killian, we really would love to have you there.”

“I’ll see,” he says as he fights to keep from smiling too widely. “May I recommend the cheddar bites for the menu. They’ll kill you, but you’ll enjoy it.”

“I have never once seen you get the cheddar bites,” Emma scoffs.

He leans over the table, pressing his chin in his hand and smirking the way he knows she likes. She tells him he’s obnoxious when he does it, but sometimes he can see past that hard shell exterior. “I’m full of surprises, darling.”

“That you are, Jones. That you are.”

-/-

-/-

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[jasperswh0re]

Savior [Raylan Givens x reader]

i am on a ROLL tonight. I wanna chug out all parts until i feel like it’s done lol... a part of me wants to make this end on a really sad note... would y’all hate me for that?? we’ll see >.>

Summary: You and Raylan get to know each other a little more.

Warnings: Guns, some swearing

Word count: 1,438

part two

---

Raylan was sat on your cushiony couch, staring at the living room before him.

You have a house, he thought.

For some reason, it slipped his mind that you actually lived somewhere. That you were an adult with your own life outside of his.

Weird.

It was a nice house, a nice living room. It was small, but nothing more than you needed. It matched your personality. Simple. Calm. Comforting. Every corner he saw there was either a pillow or a blanket. This house was a palace of comfort.

You were rummaging around the downstairs bathroom for a first aid kit. Bandages, rubbing alcohol aaaand... you checked a cupboard for... ibuprofen! Your hands were full with everything he needed when you entered the living room.

“Is your head still hurting?” You asked. Raylan hesitantly nodded his head. “I’ll be right back then.”

You set the medical supplies on the arm of the couch and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. Raylan watched you leave, focusing on your backside. A smirk tugged at his lips.

“What are you looking at?” You said when you re-entered, water in hand. 

“Nothing,” He said. 

“Then get that silly smile off of your face...” You chuckled half-heartedly, handing him the pain medicine and water. “Drink.”

You worked on the upper half of Raylan’s face as he sipped on the water. He eyed you while doing so. He could hear you muttering under your breath. It was cute.

Eventually you stopped mumbling things and it was silent for a while. He watched you closely as you bandaged him and sent small warnings for when you applied alcohol. 

You scrunch your nose when you worked, he noticed. Every so often when things wouldn’t go your way, you would swipe your lips with your tongue. A small smile appeared on his face.

“You’re staring,” You muttered. You weren’t even looking directly at him. Just at the cut on his forehead.

“You’re about two inches from my face, (Y/n). You’re not giving me much of a choice.”

You didn’t answer. A few minutes later you finished, proud with your handiwork. 

“Alright... You can use my shower in the guest bedroom,” You stood up and handed Raylan his cowboy hat. “I don’t want you stinking up my sheets with your blood...” You stepped towards the stairs, looking at him expectantly.

“I’m staying here?”

“Yeah. You’re too drunk to drive and I’m too lazy to leave my house.”

Raylan entered the guest bedroom wet and squeaky clean. The cool air hit the front of his body, a towel wrapped around his waist, when he came across your form on the bed. You sat criss-crossed, staring back at him with a quirked brow.

“Alright marshall...”

“Uh-”

“I have your clothes... I was able to wash and dry them. You were in there for a long time...” You pushed Raylan’s folded clothes closer to him while on the bed. A smirk was evident on your face. 

“Thank you,” He smiled. 

You looked away as he got dressed, but you kept the conversation going while looking at the window. For a moment, you thought you saw a figure outside. It could have been an animal.

“Do you feel guilty?” You asked. 

“What do you mean?”

“For killing that man... Down in Florida,” You turned around to face him. 

At the bar, Raylan was wearing a flannel, a white top, and jeans. It was casual and something that he usually wore when meeting you. Every so often he would show up in a suit. You assumed that was his work attire.

Tonight he was aiming to be as comfortable as possible. He resorted to only the white tank-top and jeans now, since you didn’t have any pajamas that fit him. His form was muscular, his arms were much bigger than you thought.

You didn’t anticipate for him to look so... hot.

A warm feeling spread across your cheeks but you steadied your glance. He was scrubbing his hair dry with a towel when you asked, but he paused to stare back at you. The towel hung limp in his large hands. 

Instinctively, you laid down on the guest bed and patted the space next to you.  He followed suite and laid his head next to yours, staring at the ceiling.

“No.”

You didn’t respond.

“He was a bad man... I come across a lot of bad men at work,” He said slowly.

“Is that why you always have that look in your eyes?” You turned your head toward him. 

He looked back at you, eyebrows raised. “What look?”

“Some days, there’s something in your eye. Like you’re thinking hard. Are you thinking about the men that you kill?”

“In a way.”

You looked back at the ceiling, “I don’t blame you.”

“In my mind, they’re all justified. Like... I don’t have any other choice but to shoot.”

Raylan’s words sounded like a confession. It wasn’t very often that he talked about work but he figured you would ask at some point.

You spent the next hour listening to Raylan’s work stories. Most of them were about him down in Florida. The marshall also talked about his younger life in Harlan County. As of right now, he was worried about a childhood friend, Boyd Crowder.

The two of you were comfortable in bed. You found yourself settled under the blankets and warming up very quickly, Raylan’s voice was calm. His southern drawl was comforting, like a lullaby. You didn’t even feel your head droop from the backboard of the bed to Raylan’s shoulder.

As soon as he felt you lean against him, Raylan tensed. They must be asleep now, he thought. He chuckled to himself once he realized he talked you to sleep. But now he found himself in a dilemma.

He couldn’t move.

Otherwise if he did, you’d wake up. There was no way that was going to happen.

Raylan was successful in turning out the lamp next to the bed but otherwise he stayed completely still. He basked in your presence until the alcohol in his body forced him to pass out.

The sound of a door opening and closing forced Raylan awake. His first thought ran to you but you found your way snuggled even closer to him than when he fell asleep. Who the hell was in the house?

The floorboards creaked and the door slammed open. The lack of light prevented Raylan from seeing anything about the man. Anything except the fact that he was holding a shotgun.

Raylan’s eyes widened and encapsulated your frame with his arms. Before the man could take the first shot you both were flipped onto the floor. 

Gunshots woke you up instantly. There had to at least been five. You felt yourself jolt up to see what was happening but Raylan’s hand was placed on your chest, forcing you back down.

You barely had a chance to ask what the hell was happening as Raylan scurried towards the intruder on the floor. While he did so a bullet hit the window, shattering it near you. You involuntarily let out a scream and pushed yourself near the bed to avoid the broken glass. 

Right after that Raylan managed to punch the intruder, forcing him to drop his gun. It clattered under the bed and landed next to your palm. You drew back in fear but listened to the two men fight, so you grabbed the weapon. 

There were very few times in your life that you handled a gun. This was one of them.

It didn’t help that it was darker than night inside of your home but you adjusted the shotgun to your ability and waited for the intruder to pass. 

Raylan must have gotten a hold of his own handgun because more shots rang out in the tiny bedroom. 

You could see the figure dart towards the window. That’s when you took your shot. 

Both of you missed the man as he made his way out. Raylan launched himself toward the broken window and shot a few more times. One grunt was heard. Then silence.

He got away.

You rested your head against the bed frame, allowing the heaving weapon to go limp in your arms. You were breathing heavily. 

Raylan turned on the light and walked slowly towards you. His eyebrows were raised and his expression was serious. He knelt down to your level, his gun still in his right hand. His eyes were pleading.

“Now... Are you going to tell me who the hell that was...” He licked his lips. “And why the hell you’re in Kentucky?”

[pregnant-piggy]

Summer Games - three

Blaise Zabini x reader

masterlist

warnings: no pronouns used for the reader, 

A/N: I had so much fun writing this part and coming up with all the stupid things! I really hope you like it :)

written for @omgrachwrites​​​ writing challenge with the prompts: ‘I can’t have this argument with you again.’ ‘But—’ ‘No, I’m done.’ and ‘Sorry… your hair was in your face… thought  I should move it so I could see you better.’

word count: 3.9k

The next morning Blaise awoke before Draco and rather than waking his friend too, Blaise got dressed in silence and slipped out of the room. He walked down to the kitchen, where he found you sitting at the table with a mug in your hands, reading the morning papers.

‘Might rain this afternoon,’ you said without looking up.

Blaise hummed something as he sat down opposite of you and poured himself a cup of coffee. He looked up and studied your face as you read the newspaper. Your eyes scanned the pages quickly, picking out the things worth reading. Blaise watched you for a few minutes until you had finished and looked up at him.

‘What you’re doing?’ he asked when you kept looking at him.

‘Looking at you,’ you smiled.

Blaise chuckled nervously. ‘I noticed that, yeah. But why?’

‘I’m probably not gonna see you all day,’ you shrugged. ‘Don’t wanna forget that pretty face of yours.’

Blaise straightened his back and blinked. ‘Don’t wanna—’

‘Good morning, lovelies!’ Pansy interrupted as she threw open the door of the kitchen and strode in.

Blaise was still turned to you and watched as you hugged Pansy shortly before she sat down next to you. She poured herself some coffee and looked at Blaise.

‘Blaise, stop staring, that’s rude,’ Pansy said and she waved her hand in front of Blaise’s face.

He quickly looked away from you and shot Pansy a nasty look before he turned to his coffee.

‘Pansy don’t bug him,’ you scolded and shot Blaise a kind smile. ‘It’s only morning.’

‘Fine, fine,’ Pansy said and she waved your words away with her hand. ‘I won’t bug him until later this day.’ She took a sip from her coffee and pulled a face before quickly scooping two spoons of sugar in her cup. ‘Where’s Draco?’

‘Still asleep,’ Blaise muttered. ‘I considered hexing him awake, but I still have to sleep here for two nights and Draco with a grudge is not someone you want to sleep next to.’

‘I am not that bad,’ a grumpy voice at the doorframe said. Draco walked into the room and flopped down on the chair next to Blaise. ‘Coffee, please.’

‘Sure, you’re not that bad,’ you snickered as you poured coffee in Draco’s mug.

While Draco drank his coffee, you told your friends what Game today would be. ‘It’s the last day before the winner gets announced. Yesterday while we were at the lake the other half of the teams played games in the fields. Before we set off today we’ll get the ranking so far, so you know what team to beat.’

‘But what are we doing today?’ Pansy asked.

A big smile spread on your face. ‘It’s the best Game of the whole festival. The organisation has put out a big scavenger hunt. It goes through the whole village and we have to solve riddles and collect things. You’ll get a list with things to collect and usually the team splits up in little groups and each group gets a part of the list.’

‘What sort of things do we have to collect? Because I’m really not interested in breaking my back from carrying a lot,’ Draco said.

‘I don’t know,’ you replied. ‘Usually there’s a theme to the hunt. My grandma helps to put it together and previous years she’d tell me what the theme was but she hasn’t this year.’

‘So we’ll just go around town collecting things? Isn’t that boring?’

Your smile faltered a bit and Blaise kicked Draco under the table. ‘Don’t listen to him, he’s a jerk in the morning. It sounds fun!’

You smiled thankfully at Blaise and after Pansy also reassured you that it sounded great, your smile was back on your face, and it stayed there for the rest of the morning.

/\/\/\

The scavenger hunt had officially started. A little earlier the scores of the teams had been disclosed; the Sly Foxes were on top with only two points difference between them and the Red Titans. Next were the Oiled Machines and at the bottom the Raging Angels. But just by a few points so all could change with the scavenger hunt.

The organisation had handed out the lists with the things to collect and the theme had quickly been clear.

Book of Spells … 7 pts

Iron Cauldron … 15 pts

Vial with Sleeping Potion … 12 pts

Witch Hat … 5 pts

Unnecessarily the woman of the organisation had added that the theme of this year’s hunt was ‘magic’ and both Blaise and Draco had had to refrain their laughter at the stereotypical items they had to collect. There was a whole list on ingredients for potions that no real wizard would ever think of using, such as goat milk and rabbit turds. Apparently Muggles still thought of witches as old, weary women in little shacks in the woods.

Blaise and Draco had been teamed up with three other Foxes. Neither of them knew any of the three, but after his little spat with Alysia two days ago, Blaise was more than happy that he wasn’t in her team.

The oldest of their team was Ivanna, a woman of thirty-four with a pale face and sleek brown hair. Despite the heat she was wearing long trousers and a jacket over her shirt. She’d told the rest of the team that she had a little baby of just two months old, so that if she seemed tired it meant she probably was.

The second of the three was the twenty-three year old student Mica. They had a dark golden skin and black, curly hair that had been cut short and dyed blue in the ends. Under the blue bangs lay two dark eyes that glittered with excitement and competitiveness. Mica was a student in London, but they had come back to the town where they’d grown up for the Summer Games.

The last teammate was the very young Raoul. He was the son of the man Draco and Blaise had met the first day of the festival at the stand with the cherry pastries, Hank. Raoul was just eleven years old, but he brought a childlike enthusiasm with him that made everyone in the team energized.

They were by far the youngest team, as all the other teams had the more aged villagers, so they called themselves the Sly Pups. Quickly they set to work and looked at the items on their list.

‘Does this make any sense to you?’ Ivanna asked as she handed the list to Blaise and Draco.

Errn rq srwlrqv … 7 pts

Eurrpvwlfh … 17 pts

Fordn … 9 pts

Fdqgohv .. 10 pts

‘I don’t get it,’ Draco said to the rest of the team and then he whispered to Blaise: ‘You didn’t take Ancient Runes, did you?’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Blaise answered and he looked at the sheet in his hand. ‘But I doubt these are runes.’

Blaise looked around at the rest of the Sly Foxes but they didn’t seem to have the same problems, as they were already heading off. Then he looked at the other teams on the field and realised that from each team one group would stay bent over their list while the others took off. In one of the remaining teams Blaise recognised you and Pansy.

‘You don’t think it’s a mistake, do you?’ Ivanna asked with frowned eyebrows.

‘No, the other teams have it too,’ Blaise said and he nodded to the three groups left behind around them.

‘Wait, this one we can read!’ Mica said and pointed out the first line on the paper. ‘”To understand the magic you must always think three steps ahead.” What does that mean?’

The whole team silenced as they thought about the possible meaning of the sentence. Raoul looked around on the ground as if he would find the answer literally three steps ahead of him. For minutes it was quiet and Blaise’s annoyance grew.

To make his irritation even worse two of the other teams around them, including your team, had found the solution to the weird texts and were now running off the field. Blaise let out an exasperated sigh and he shook his head.

‘It can’t be this hard,’ Draco said.

‘It’s some sort of secret language, but I don’t understand the three steps,’ Mica admitted and they rubbed their temples with their knuckles.

‘My dad taught me a secret language once,’ Raoul said. ‘So we could write each other without my other dad finding out. We changed each letter with the one next in the alphabet.’

‘Of course!’ Mica exclaimed and they took the paper from Blaise. ‘Does someone have a pen?’

Ivanna gave Mica a pen and they turned Draco around to use his back. ‘What are you doing?’ Draco snapped but Mica ignored him as they started to write the alphabet on the top of the paper.

‘Look, it’s actually really easy,’ they said. ‘Each letter is swapped for a letter three steps ahead in the alphabet! Just like Raoul said!’

‘So that would mean that the e in the first word is actually a…’

‘A b!’ Mica completed Blaise’s sentence. ‘So the first word is… book… on… pot—potions! We have to find a potions book!’

‘I’ve got one of those in my bag,’ Draco muttered, but Blaise kicked him softly on his leg.

‘We have to go the library!’ Raoul said and he ran off.

‘Raoul! Wait a minute! Not so fast!’ Ivanna yelled after him and the group quickly followed the little boy.

/\/\/\

Your team had quickly figured out the solution to the weird text and found a potions book in the library, accompanied by a little paper with the next clue. Now you were sitting on the wall around the garden of the library with your team.

On your right sat Pansy and on your left Quincy. Quincy was your grandparents’ neighbour and you knew him very well so you were glad he was on your team. He was fifty-five and he had studied philosophy at the university in the nearest big city when he was younger. You hoped his intelligence would be applicable in the hunt, and so far it had for he had figured out the secret language.

Opposite of you stood Chantelle, the forty-two year old town’s librarian. Despite her being in her early forties she looked much older. She had a wrinkled face and neck and always stared at you with big eyes from behind her thick glasses. Her appearance was deceiving however, because her mentality was as quick as that of a young adult.

The last in your team was a teenage boy only a year older than you and Pansy. His name was Christopher and you had known him since you were a small child and you went to your grandparents in the summer. He had dark curls framing his olive face that was always painted with a bright smile. This time there was something other in his smile too and it only made sense to you after he told you that his boyfriend was in the other team and he desperately wanted to beat him.

‘y/n too,’ Pansy had said and Christopher had raised his eyebrow.

‘Really?’

‘No! Blaise is not my boyfriend!’ you’d cried to which Pansy had laughed.

‘Who said anything about Blaise? I merely said ‘boyfriend’.’

Now you were all looking at the new paper in your hand. The next item on the list was an eurrpvwlfh; a broomstick. Though finding out what the next item was had been easy, the real problem was finding the place where. The text on the paper you had gotten from the person in the library didn’t exactly help you very much.

Where I am is always a mystery.

Over mountains I fly,

Or I cross above the trees.

Down on the ground I rest,

Still and motionless I stand.

Pansy sighed and she threw her head back, closing her eyes as she thought about the riddle. Next to you, Quincy was staring at the text as if that would make him any wiser. Every once in a while he would hum but he didn’t come with an answer.

‘We’re gonna lose our lead like this,’ Christopher sighed as he looked around the street for other teams.

‘Surely we’re not seeing something,’ Pansy said and she tilted her head to the side, looking at the paper from a different angle. ‘No offense, but the organisation isn’t exactly a group of highly intelligent people, so maybe we have to think easier.’

Christopher chuckled and you faked a scowl at Pansy. ‘That’s my grandmother you’re talking about!’ you cried and Pansy just shrugged. ‘But you’re right. I am sure there is something clear that we’re overlooking.’

Chantelle cleared her throat and pointed at the text. ‘Maybe we should take a literal approach. You know, look at the text rather than the meaning?’

‘Here,’ you said and gave Chantelle the paper, allowing her to put her full focus on it.

Down the street you noticed a group of people approaching the library. Running ahead of the others was a young boy you recognised as Raoul. He had a big smile on his face and was waving the list with things to collect through the air. In the group behind him Blaise and Draco were walking together, followed by Mica and Ivanna. They noticed your team and Blaise and Draco waved.

‘Not to put pressure on you, but I really hope you can figure it out now because if we don’t win from Blaise and Draco I will be hearing that for the rest of my life,’ you sighed and Pansy nodded.

Chantelle looked up from the paper and winked at you. ‘I got it.’

Your team cheered and Blaise’s team, that was just about to enter the library, looked around. Upon seeing your team so happy, their faces turned sad.

‘See you tonight, boys!’ Pansy shouted. ‘Losers have to do the dishes!’

/\/\/\

Blaise and his team stepped out of the woods with the broomstick in their hand. The broom was old and twitchy and Blaise had to stifle a laugh thinking of how different the real broomsticks were in the wizarding world.

Again it had been Mica who had guessed the answer of the riddle. Blaise wondered where the team would be if they hadn’t been here. Probably still working on the first puzzle. But Mica had figured out that the first letters of the sentences in the little poem formed the word woods, the place where they had found the broomstick.

Now they only had the next word, fordn, meaning cloak, and a silver pin. It was not much to go on but Ivanna had recognised the pin straight away.

‘It comes from Mrs. Heath’s studio!’ she exclaimed and looked at the little pin in her fingers. ‘It’s what she uses for her dresses!’

Unfortunately Mrs. Heath’s studio lay on the other side of the village and it would take at least forty minutes before they’d get there.

‘Forty minutes?!’ Draco cried and when the team set off he turned to Blaise. ‘Stupid Muggles, why can’t we just apparate?’

‘Oh shut it, Malfoy,’ Blaise said. ‘It’s fun!’

‘I’m gonna curse y/n for making us do this…’

Grudging Draco followed the rest of his team and though Blaise would never say it to his friend, he had to admit that his feet were beginning to hurt.

The Sly Pups passed little houses with colourful front yards, full of flowers and bushes. The main street was silent and all the shops were closed, as most of the inhabitants were participating in the Games and there was no need for the stores to be open. They ran into a few other teams, but none of those had the same list as they had.

After forty-five minutes they arrived at the old house of Mrs. Heath. In the garden there was a little path, past pink flowerbeds and a small pond with fish. Halfway in the garden the path split in two. One side led to the bright yellow front door, the other led to a wooden door with a sign on it that said the Heath atelier.

Ivanna stepped through the garden and knocked on the yellow door. A minute it was silent and then an old lady opened the door. She was wearing an orange with blue flowers dress that reached to the ground and her grey hair hung in a braid over her shoulder. Her lips spread into a smile when she saw the five people at her door.

‘You’re the first ones!’ Mrs. Heath smiled and she stepped out of the door. ‘Come, come, follow me!’

Blaise sent Draco a questioning look as they followed Mrs. Heath to her studio. Your team had been far ahead of Pups, having figured out where to find the broomstick before Blaise’s team even had the riddle. In the forest there had been two brooms already collected, but apparently the Sly Pups were the only ones who had found where the silver pin came from.

Inside the Heath atelier stood four mannequins with colourful robes. Each had a different colour and pattern. There was a dark blue one with yellow stars, a green one covered with red flowers and one coloured yellow with orange and red flames. Blaise snickered at the cloaks; the only one he had even seen wearing such colours was Dumbledore and he couldn’t exactly be called a normal wizard.

‘You take this one,’ Mrs. Heath said and she pulled a bright pink cloak with yellow and green crescents embroidered in it from a mannequin. ‘And also—’ she opened a drawer and pulled out a thin object in the shape of a circle ‘—this one. Good luck!’

Ivanna took the object and the cloak and ushered the team outside. In the garden she handed over the cloak to Draco, who took it with a frown, and looked at what Mrs. Heath had given her.

‘It’s a coaster,’ Mica said, raising one eyebrow. ‘Why would she give us a coaster?’

Before anyone of the team could guess, however, another group arrived at the house. You and Pansy were walking ahead, both with tired and sweaty faces, and the rest of your team seemed just as exhausted.

Blaise waved at you and you gave him a weak smile back as you walked with your team inside.

‘Does anyone recognise this?’ Mica asked and they looked around the team.

Everyone shook their head and they sighed as one. Ivanna brought the coaster closer to her face and examined it. She dropped her shoulders and shook her head again. ‘I don’t know what it is.’

‘It probably has something to do with the next item,’ Mica said and they pulled out the list. ‘Candles. Is there a place here that sells candles or anything?’

‘But what has that got to do with the coaster?’ Blaise asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Mica admitted.

Your team came out of the studio with the green cloak and Pansy had a coaster in her hand. You huddled a little away from Blaise and your team formed a protective circle around the object in Pansy’s hand.

Blaise was standing with his back to your team, but he could hear the whispers. While his team tried to think of a solution for the weird puzzle, Blaise tried to listen to what your teammates had to say. And it seemed like your team had sorted it out as quickly as Ivanna had sorted out the solution of the pin.

‘I know where this is from,’ Quincy said. ‘At Mikey’s they use these coasters.’

‘And that would make sense, because in a restaurant they surely have candles!’ Chantelle added and the rest of your team mumbled approvingly.

Blaise looked around and saw your team leaving the garden and heading for the main street. You caught his stare and smiled enthusiastic at Blaise, making him weak in the knees with the innocent laugh on your face. Butterflies were fluttering through his stomach and he felt bad for eavesdropping on your team.

‘Blaise?’

‘Yeah?’ Blaise tore his gaze from you and turned to his team, finding them all looking at him.

Mica laughed and shook their head. ‘Ivanna said that she knows someone who makes candles,’ they said. ‘I know we haven’t got much time left, but it’s worth a try.’

The scavenger hunt would only last till four, then everyone had to return to the fields, whether they had found all the objects or not. Now there were only thirty minutes left, so they had to hurry.

Blaise looked at his team and thought of what he had heard a minute earlier. If they went to the candle-maker they would never get to the restaurant in time, and that would mean that they’d lose from your team. However, when Blaise thought of you and how happy you’d be when winning, he just couldn’t tell.

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Sounds great.’

/\/\/\

You were lying in bed, staring at the shapes the lamp cast on the ceiling. Pansy was hopping around in the room, trying to find the pyjamas that she had thrown off this morning. Her footsteps were heavy sounds on the wooden floor.

There was a faint smile on your face. This afternoon your team had been the only one to return with all four of the items on the list. Though that didn’t guarantee that the Red Titans had won the entire scavenger hunt, it did mean that you and Pansy’s team had won from Blaise and Draco’s.

However, there was one more thing that added to your smile.

‘He knew,’ you said and sat up against the headboard of the bed.

‘Who knew what?’ Pansy asked as she was bent over in the closet.

‘Blaise knew where to find the candles.’

Pansy looked up at you. ‘What do you mean? His team didn’t find them.’

‘No, his team didn’t know,’ you said while Pansy took off her shirt and trousers. ‘But he did.’

Pansy neatly folded her clothes and placed them on a shelf in the closet. Then she closed the door and looked around the room. ‘Where the hell are my clothes?’ she mumbled before she looked back at you. ‘How do you know?’

‘He overheard Quincy telling where the coaster came from,’ you said and you lifted the pillow on the bed and revealed Pansy’s pyjamas. ‘He looked at me before we walked away. I could see it in his face.’

Pansy had sat down on the bed and pulled the shirt over her head. ‘So if he knew, why didn’t he tell his team?’ she asked and then a wicked smile spread on her face. ‘He let you win.’

‘He let us win, Pansy,’ you corrected, but even you couldn’t suppress a smile. ‘But yeah.’

‘So that’s why you’ve been smiling so much all evening!’ Pansy exclaimed loudly and you shushed her.

‘Shh! He’s still in the room next to us!’

Pansy rolled her eyes and crawled under the covers next to you. ‘Will you now believe he’s totally into you?’

You turned off the light on the nightstand and lay down, pulling the duvet up to your chin. You stared at the dark ceiling for a moment, thinking back of today. With a smile you took Pansy’s hand and gave it a little squeeze.

‘Perhaps.’

- - - - - - -

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[shinydelirium]

Kiro’s 2021 Childhood Bday  R&S Translation [CN]

***THIS POST CONTAINS CONTENT THAT HAS NOT BEEN RELEASED YET ON EN SERVER!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT TO AVOID SPOILERS***

This is a translation from Kiro’s 2021 childhood birthday story released on CN server. I do not know any Chinese so this was done through Google Translate. I apologize for any errors or mistranslations. Without further ado, please continue on reading!!! :) 

***WARNING: ANGST!!! THIS IS SUPPOSE TO BE A HAPPY DAY FOR KIRO!!! FIRST IT WAS S2 CH12 AND NOW THIS!?!?! WTH, PAPERGAMES!?!?!***

[Chapter 1]: Child Star’s Birthday

7:50 am California

After Kiro ran to the classroom and sat down, he laid his head directly on the table. “You can sleep for another ten minutes.” He whispered to himself in his heart.

He is too sleepy.

Ten hours ago, he finished the last set of filming, returned from the studio to the house the company set up for him in California, and then caught up on all the missing courses and homework. It was already 3 o’clock in the morning.

As if on cue, his stomach growled and Kiro lay helplessly on the table.  

Since his debut, he has become more or less accustomed to the professionalism of being a “star” but at this time his stomach seems to be persistently singing against him. Kiro hesitated for a moment and then opened a pack of soda five minutes later.

Sweetness hits the tip of his tongue and brings a sense of satisfaction to his brain. He finally breathed a sigh of relief, put on his headphones and closed his eyes.  

This is the first time in a while he has taken a break in the past few days.  

Kiro took a deep breath quietly and buried his face deeper into his arms.

But he could still feel the gazes around him looking at him and the innocent discussions. Even the moment he walked into the classroom and sat down, the air was still for half a second.

He doesn’t like this kind of “special treatment” nor does he like how he is always affected by it.

Over the years, he thought that he should be used to being watched constantly, and perhaps he had to bear the pressure from other peers. But sure enough, in fact, there are still many times that he will be a little breathless.  

Like now.  

As a child star, there were two to three days a week that he where he would be absent from school. For Kiro, his classmates are indeed some distance away. Because of his repeated absence, the- so-called disparity was expected.  

The reasons are not so complicated in the eyes of the children. At this age, the feeling of distance is often more sensitive than adults.  

He also wants to try his best to build a good relationship with them. After all, having friends is a very happy thing.  

As if he had finally made up his mind, Kiro took a deep breath, smoothed down messy hair, and raised his smiling face along with his shining blue eyes.

“Good morning, everyone, long time no see!” No one could possibly refuse such a warm and sincere greeting, let alone Kiro.  

Even though some shy classmates nodded their heads and smiled with furtive gazes, the greeting initiated by Kiro still received many responses. Soon, a small circle formed around him. Everyone scrambled to ask which crew he went to during the period of “his absence”, which big star he saw, and what new information he gathered.

Suddenly, a boy with curly hair, leaned in and patted Kiro on the shoulder with great enthusiasm.

“Kiro! Happy birthday!”

As his high voice rang out, the children who got together cheered in unison.  

“They are all embarrassed to come and tell you, so I said it! Happy birthday, future star.”

Kiro was taken aback.

“Thank you.”

Almost a subconscious reply.

But in that small world that only belonged to Kiro, another voice sounded different from what he was doing at this time.

“So, today is my birthday.”

[Chapter 2]: A Heart to Live Up To

“Kiro, great, you haven’t left yet!”  

The lingering sound of the bell was still echoing. Kiro had just cleaned up and wanted to seize the rare free time to make up for a good night’s sleep, when he was suddenly stopped by the instructor who had rushed over. He excitedly grabbed Kiro’s hands, looking very surprised.

“Teacher, are you looking for me?”

“Yeah....” The teacher didn’t seem to know how to begin. Kiro responded sensibly, leading the question back at the end of the dialogue.

“If there is anything I need to do, you can just say it directly.”

After hearing this, the teacher nodded in relief, as if he had waited for a long time and quickly told the whole story.  

Kiro understood what was going on.  

It turned out that there was a very important violin competition for high school students today and the classmate of the classical music department who represented the school had a temporary accident and was unable to participate. He wanted Kiro to help fill in.

“...Okay, I will try my best. Thank you, teacher, for believing in me.”

Even though he was tired, he did not refuse this sudden request.

It’s not that he isn’t interested in the competition, nor is he absolutely confident in his skills, it’s just...

He hopes that he is perfect enough in the eyes of the teacher.

After all, at this critical time, the teacher thought of him and believed in him, and he must not fail this trust.

Thinking about this, Kiro clenched his teeth, swallowed a yawn that was ready to come out, and forced himself to wake up. After the teacher went back to the residence to fetch his violin, he hurried to the scene of the competition.

The site was set up in the observation deck of a building and under the transparent glass plank pathway, it is a panoramic view of the entire city.  

At the time of arrival, many contestants were already busy making preparations. Kiro’s appearance undoubtedly caused quite a stir. The teacher proudly met the gazes and protected Kiro through the crowd to their waiting area.

Kiro quickly entered the waiting area. He opened the violin bag, skillfully tightened the bow, wiped the rosin, set the violin on his shoulder, and tuned the pegs carefully and intently.  

Now that he is here, he must do his best. He cheered himself up and walked in the direction where he was ready to take the stage.

“Don’t worry, he is a little star. Even if he doesn’t do well, he has publicity and won’t make the school lose too badly.”

The voice in the corner made Kiro stop.

He didn’t listen. It seemed that there was another voice arguing with him, but that was not important. Kiro just returned to the waiting area quietly, waiting for the announcement from the competition organizer. He just lowered his head and stood there quietly.

At this time a man came over. He patted Kiro’s shoulder lightly and said mysteriously.

“Kiro, this is the first time we’ve met. I am a teacher in the classical music department.” He lowered his voice, “Actually, I don’t really like the format of music competitions. Music should be something to enjoy and convey emotions, not some sort of boring game. So don’t think of it as a competition, but as a special show. I’m looking forward to hearing the music you play. I heard that you play the violin very well. This is the first time I will hear your music.

After that, he mischievously gave Kiro a big pat on the back. *Took some liberties here with the translation*  

Kiro stared at this somewhat holistic man and did not speak for a long time. A similar and familiar feeling came out of him.  

The broadcast system called Kiro’s name.

“Don’t think about anything, just let the world hear your voice.”

[Chapter 3]: Happy Birthday Song

The competition ended smoothly.

Kiro didn’t remember the process of his performance. He only remembered the way the classical music department teacher exaggeratedly raised his hands to applaud him when he left the competition. His eyes were full of real and undisguised recognition and praise.

At the end of the competition, he politely declined the kindness of the teachers and left alone.  

The California coast is like spring all year round and the fresh air is filled with a faint smell of saltwater. Kiro walked, suddenly a little at a loss.  

For a moment he didn’t know where he should go or where he could go. He just carried his violin bag and walked alone on the streets of California aimlessly.  

Until he passed by a family restaurant.

Such restaurants are very common in California. People choose outdoor dining areas to enjoy their food with nature.

As far as Kiro’s line of sight could see, a family sat around the table warmly. There are grandparents, parents, and even uncles and aunts. And the main star of this family banquet is obviously the little girl sitting in the middle wearing a birthday hat.

She sat happily in the center, closing her eyes in front of a huge cake.  

Everyone’s face was filled with the look of joy as they watched her patiently and earnestly. No one interrupted the most solemn “ceremony” at this time.  

The little girl closed her eyes for a long, long time. Maybe she had a lot of wishes that she wants to come true or maybe she is carefully telling some wish that she wants to come true the most.  

After all, in the eyes of a child, the more important the wish, the more carefully it will be heard and realized.  

Kiro stood there and looked at the little girl’s face quietly. He didn’t know what he was feeling right now. It seemed that something he wanted to show was turning upwards along his heart, as if he would shed tears in the next second.  

He just stood there silently, watching her finally make her wish, blowing out the candles while her family sang “happy birthday.” Grabbing the balloons in her hand, the girl ran around in the open space, spinning her little skirt.  

Then she saw Kiro and ran towards him happily without knowing what she was thinking.

“Prince!” She waved her little hand at Kiro and said loudly. Kiro was stunned. The little girl ran up to him and raised her head, “His Royal Highness, are you here to wish me a happy birthday, too?”

Kiro thought for a while, crouched down and touched the little girl’s head, “Although I am not a prince, I wish you a happy birthday!”

The little girl didn’t seem to understand what he meant. She carefully picked out a yellow one from her balloon stash and gave it to Kiro.  

“Thank you for wishing me happiness, and I wish you happiness too. This is for you.”

The little girl happily ran back to her seat after speaking with him and the whole family nodded politely to him, seeming to express gratitude.  

Kiro looked at the yellow balloon in his hand and walked away slowly.

He was walking on the road, the sun a little dazzling, the balloon floating gently while he hummed quietly.

“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me~”

At this time, his phone chimed, alerting him to an email.

[Chapter 4]: Special Birthday Gift

It is an email from KEY.

Since he came to the United States, KEY has always liked to use this “fun” way to keep in touch with him in addition to the phone.

Kiro sat on the roadside steps, “If my agent sees me like this, he will definitely be angry.”

Kiro thought about it leisurely but didn’t have any plans to get up.

“Today is my birthday, so I call the shots!” *Took some liberties here*

First, he simply replied to the fan messages wishing him a happy birthday on social media and then concentrated on deciphering KEY’s information. It is a very interesting little program. The code attached to the email can be directly written to change the content of the email.  

Kiro has always been happy with this special design. Under his operation, the information was quickly decoded.

“The place where you stay most often.”

Kiro read it out gently, and there was a pair of combined numbers at the same time.  

He raised his head, as if thinking of something.

The dance studio was deserted at this time.

This was the exclusive training room given to him by the company. Kiro took out the key and walked in gently in the same way as he had been in class.  

This is a special place for him.

The sun in the afternoon was particularly brilliant, flowing into the entire classroom through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which looked clean and sparkling. Kiro stood in front of a small cabinet in the dance studio.

He felt like an ordinary child at this moment, being guided to find the answer in the way he was most interested in. He was a little happy when he thought of this.  

Kiro cautiously opened the cabinet and found a box inside. He took it out, and after opening it, it turned out to be an exquisite violin.

The little violin along with the sunlight filtering down onto the light brown amber, reflected in his eyes, as if it was shining.

At this time, the second email came. It was simple and there was no need for decoding.

“Happy birthday.” He seemed to hear KEY saying this to him.

Kiro couldn’t help thinking, when did KEY hide it here?

As if responding to his question, footsteps came from outside the door. Kiro’s heart beat a little fast, and he suddenly wondered if there would be another gift.

He opened the door in surprise, and an unceremonious man greeted him.

The man didn’t even take off his shoes. The exquisite black leather shoes stepped on the smooth floor, looking particularly dazzling.

Kiro felt his fingertips instantly chill, and he clenched his hands hard to keep his body from shaking.

“I really don’t know why I’m responsible for this kid.” The man gave him a look of disgust, “I won’t talk too much nonsense with you.”

“The higher ups are very dissatisfied with you.” Each word struck Kiro’s heart, “Don’t forget why you want to become a star.”

“In one month’s time,” he threw a document on the ground, “Finish it.”

“I don’t know what you have to look forward to.” The man walked in front of him to the center of the floor. Kiro lowered his head, and there were only footprints left in his field of vision that seemed to have been dyed black with thick ink, step by step, on a clean floor.

It seems that no matter how hard he tried, he can’t wipe off that trace.

“3684.” The man impatiently left his last words, “Don’t be too self-righteous. You really think you are worth something?”

[Chapter 5]: Things You Want To Protect

In the empty dance studio, the operating sound of the air humidifier hummed quietly.

Kiro didn’t know how long he had been standing there until the tingling sensation rushed to his legs and he instinctively moved forward slightly.

The towel and hairband hanging on the side of the cabinet came into view and he strode forward suddenly and threw them to the ground fiercely. ***The towel and hairband mentioned here are what Kiro uses during dance practice to wipe off/absorb sweat***

The world swallowed his outburst silently but indifferently, making him at this moment seem small and lonely.

In the end, he dragged his numb body and walked tiredly to the towel and hairband, as if all his strength had been drained and slowly knelt on the floor.

Just like the day when he first picked them.

Kiro stretched out his hand, slowly picked up the towel and hair band, and carefully hugged them in his arms. They were his only close friends, walking side by side. They were proof of his hard work. But if these proofs can be trampled so easily, then what was all his effort for?”

The edges of the cotton towel and hairbands were slightly deformed due to their repeated use. He swiped hard, remembering that he had almost thrown them away because of being used so many times.

And whenever he was about to throw them in the trash can, the soft texture in his hands was always quietly hot at that moment.

It seemed to be telling him, “Wait a minute. Hold on.”

It’s as if they were reminding him they were made in order to continued to be used.

He once heard others say that life will find a way out.

“Is this the way you worked hard to find?”

He stood foolishly in front of the trash can, looking at the towel and hairbands in his hands, muttering to himself.

Then he would stand there, talking endlessly for a while.  

He thought that music was the way out for his life that was once empty.

It seemed that in the darkness where he still was, a gleaming light suddenly broke in. In that world, he can always shine with golden light and light up his life forever.

He can see himself.

But if he can’t maintain this purity, is he still worthy to live in this world that once taught him to redeem?

No.

Kiro raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror.

That world may be impure, but his dream is real, and his love is real. This was what he wanted to do as Kiro, and it was the only way out.

He is Kiro. Not 3684.

He rubbed the hair band firmly, then raised his hand to tie it on his head and smiled at himself in the mirror with encouragement and humbleness as he did before each practice.

“Today’s 2-hour dance training has not been completed yet.”

A dynamic rhythm sounded in the studio and the sound of footsteps rubbing on the floor resounded one after another. Kiro was practicing hard while telling himself in his heart.  

“This is just another ordinary day, tomorrow will only be better.”

Two hours later, he turned off the music, bent over gasping, and abnormally did not stand up for a long, long time.

Finally, for what seemed like ages, he slowly straightened up, took out the violin from the bag on the floor, and sat by the window. The dark brown violin was lined with soft light under the sun and he held it as if being embraced.

“I will definitely protect you.”

Kiro’s eyes were soft, and his tone was gentle and firm.

The birds outside the window chirped and landed freely on the edge of the window.

“It’s great that you are free.”

Kiro smiled and gently extended his fingertips.  

“I will be free too.”

[Chapter 6]: Free Sailing

A telephone ring broke the silence of the studio.

Kiro looked down at the phone. It was an unfamiliar number. Maybe it was from a fan somewhere, but he picked it up in a ghostly manner.

“Hello, this is PLANET Yacht Club, what can I do for you?”

Kiro was stunned. The person at the other end waited patiently for his silence. After a long time, he remembered that when he was resting on the sidewalk a while ago, he accidentally saw a magazine ad about yachts. He made a phone consultation.

However, because he needed to go to pratice immediately he asked the other party to contact him afterwards.  

Unexpectedly, it happened to be today.

“I have read your information. I have some interest in your yachts. How can I learn more about it?”

“If this is the case, you can visit our terminal directly. On which day would you like to make an appointment?”

“Is today okay?”

When Kiro said it, he was also stunned. He felt his heart beating, but he didn’t know what this feeling represented.

“Of course, we will send the address to your phone later, looking forward to your visit.”

When Kiro saw that yacht, he decided to buy it.

It was lying quietly in the corner of the entire pier, unremarkable, but in the light of the surging tide, it instantly attracted Kiro’s eyes.

Of course, the salesman saw the young boy coming to the club, obviously looking a little bit awkward and seemed to be thinking about how to politely ask him to leave.

“I want that yacht.”

Kiro didn’t leave the yacht’s sight and took out his bank card in the salesman’s dumbfounded gaze.

The boat was moored by a small harbor where there was a little old port. This was the place he saw on the way to the club.

He asked the people of the club to help him get the boat here and said that in a few days, he would come again to ask about how to operate the yacht.

It was dusk now and there were no people, only him and his boat, listening to the ebb and flow together.

The half-round sunset has fallen below the sea level. The sun is golden and far away, warmly embracing the whole world.

The yacht hasn’t been decorated yet and looks a bit simple, but Kiro doesn’t care. He feels that he has seen the future of the ship.

This is his boat, he repeats this in his heart over and over, and in the future, there will be someone who is most special to him in this world who will share it with him.

Think of it as a birthday present for yourself even though there is no cake and no birthday song today.

But this is also good.

Kiro was lying on the small deck, seagulls flying non-stop. The sky was divided into half blue and half-yellow. The boat rose and fell with the tide. He opened his arms as if he could touch the sky.

Kiro suddenly felt that he could go anywhere.

Nothing can stop him.

[End]