#fumbling over your words and you're frustrated you can't even explain it and there's just so much love it makes you want to cry.

[mysticalcats]

cats the musical

[unknownati]

xiii. tap tap tap

a/n: im. Cooking. I swear

idk whether to finish my reqs first or my wips 😭 but lowkey i've been busy asf sorry 😞 i am slooowly chipping away at them

warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features, gn!reader, sub!ekko, crop top, living my truth, orgasm denial, handjob, short bleghhh, unproofread THIS ENDING 😒

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a small groan rumbles in ekko's chest as he leans over his workbench, papers scattered across the wood surface in a chaotic organization.

"ugh," ekko's head shook, nose scrunching in frustration. nothing was adding up—none of the math circled back to the main problem.

his z-drive got messed up in a fight, and the whole thing was completely off now. not being able to figure this stupid thing out had his forehead heating up, his fingers flicking his pencil between his fingers, a constant rapping against the table reminiscent to a clock ticking.

a whole room over, the sound made your ears twitch at the familiarity, your mind's attention shifting from the book you were reading to that consistent noise.

you've asked ekko many times to try to not make that noise—it's a distraction, gritting to your ears. each word you read gets replaced with a 'tap tap.'

you know the context behind that noise too—so why not help him fix it?

you peek into ekko's room, the tapping filling your ears more clearly. your presence is thick, even with your lack of noise, ekko realizes you're there. he gives you a small grunt of acknowledgment, no time to think about anything more.

your chin rests on his shoulder, palms running up and down his forearms. your eyes pass over the work he has, not a clue in the world what any of this means. what your eyes dart to instead was that pencil. still tapping. you hum. "what's wrong, baby?"

his nose scrunches and he sighs, shaking his head. "i just can't figure this out."

you let the sentence linger in the air, squeezing his shoulders, fingers slipping to kneed his biceps. "hmm...well, what are you tryna do?"

his lips form a line and then he opens his mouth, explaining the entire plan out to you with reasoning, showing you pictures, showing you evidence, everything. you weren't listening to a word.

"but the thing is, i tried both, and doing the first one leads me down a complete different road. and i'm wondering if it's because—"

"mhm," you hum as he continues speaking, your eyes trailing up his gesticulating arms, then down. his shirt was cropped, his midriff peeking out from the angle you were at. casually, both of your hands begin snaking down. they both stop at his waist. he doesn't notice—it's a regular occurrence. you're always touching the visible skin when he's wearing a crop top.

you couldn't lie, the sight was tantalizing. every time he reached up for something, the shirt would raise and give you a larger view of his abs. something about the crop top was so much better than seeing him shirtless.

it wasn't until your hand started creeping up his shirt that he fumbled over his words. "what are you doing?"

"nothing, sorry. keep talking."

he cleared his throat, stuttering for a moment but then getting back on track to his sentences. he asks something, some question related to the papers in front of him.

"hmm, well i dunno baby. talk me through it, what do you think?" you throw the ball right back into his court. good thing ekko likes talking, because he immediately had an answer for you, his mouth running once again.

you give half-hearted noises of acknowledgment between pauses in speech, meanwhile, the hand that wasn't up his shirt was slooowly making it's way down his pants. once you breached the band of his boxers, he stuttered again.

"what are you doing?" he re-asks, more emphasis on his words. you shake your head.

"focus on what you have to figure out, not on me."

he doesn't respond, zoning out as your fist closes around his dick. it's slowly growing in your hand, twitching at your touch. the hand up his shirt taps. "focus." you repeat.

"um," he groans, picking up the next sheet of paper. "i just think that—"

his sentence was cut short by a gasp, since you gave him no time to prepare himself, immediately starting to stroke him. he thinks he knows what game you're playing.

"think that...maybe i should try thinking about it the other...way around...i–f-fuck..." his sentence trails off, shaky breaths filling the air and ghosting around him. the tapping grows weak until it finally stops, wood clattering and rolling against the desk.

"you...?" you pick the sentence off where it ended, your wrist flicking rapidly. his knees feel weak— he leans his weight onto his palms, which rest against the edge of the table.

"god, i–i don't know. i can't focus with you doing that..."

you allow him a few more moments of bliss, and you can tell he's close. you're leading him right into your trap, moving faster,

"ah,"

faster,

"baby, please, i'm-"

faster,

"oh fuck,"

...then it's all gone. the tight coil in his tummy simply...crumbled rather than unraveling. he almost collapses, arms wobbling to hold himself up on the desk.

"that's how i feel when you tap that pencil."

before he can even process his confusion, you're out the room, door shutting behind you.

maybe an unconventional approach—but you never heard that tapping again.

[lacydollette]

RECKLESS ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: bf!sam x fem!reader

warnings: angst, established relationship, sam being overprotective, fighting, lots of blaming each other, mentions of dean being in hell, some fluff, wc: 1.9k

You slipped out of the motel room as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake Sam. You had been driving for days, hunting a wendigo near the outskirts of Iowa. But the hunt wasn’t even the hardest part—it was the weight of everything else. Ever since Dean's deal, since he was dragged into Hell, Sam had been on edge, more protective than ever. And you could feel it creeping into every part of your lives.

You glanced at Sam one more time as he lay sprawled on the bed, finally catching up on some sleep. He deserved that. Still, you knew you needed more supplies. You were running low on salt, and in the need of a few essentials plus, you figured a little food wouldn't hurt.

The grocery store was only ten minutes away, so you grabbed the keys and your bag, telling yourself you’d be quick. On your way inside the store, you checked for your phone—"dang it", you cursed, you must've left it at the motel.

So you quickly breezed through the aisles, grabbing salt, herbs, and a few sandwiches and snacks for Sam. You loaded everything into the car and started heading back, happy to know you’d have Sam’s favorite food waiting for him.

But while you were on your way home, Sam was already panicking, pacing around the motel room. He’d woken up to find you gone, no note, no message, just your phone lying there. His mind raced through every worst-case scenario. Every minute you were gone, his worry grew until it twisted into anger. Losing so many people did that to a person, and Sam had lost more than enough.

He couldn’t loose you too.

When you finally walked in, expecting Sam to be asleep, you were met by the intense sight of him, eyes locked on you the second you opened the door, and tension radiating off him.

"Where the hell were you?" Sam's voice was filled with frustration and disappointment. "I... I went to grab some salt from the market. We were almost out," you answered, confused by his reaction. "Why? What's the matter?"

Sam rubbed over his face in frustration, walking toward you. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, as if ensuring you were in one piece. Even though you were back now, his heart was still racing. "Heck y/n, I woke up and you were just gone. Do you know what that feels like after everything? I thought something bad had happened to you." His voice was shaking with distress.

"I was literally gone for half an hour! I thought you'd be asleep. I didn't want to wake you," you explained, fumbling with your words. "I wanted to be quick in case we needed the salt. It took me longer because there was this huge crash on the highway—"

"Wow, that's a perfect excuse." He cut in. "And you didn't think of a way to call me? Let me know you'd be gone longer? No, no... the only thing on your mind was getting some damn salt." His words stung, more than you expected. "You need to calm down." you replied, trying to pull yourself together. Was he really so distrustful? "I know I should've told you before leaving, but look at me—I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes. "Goddamn it, I don't care if you're fine right now. It's the principle, y/n. You do shit without thinking, and I can't stand it." He took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. "There are so many things that could've happened to you out there. How can you be so careless?"

That hit a nerve, and your frustration bubbled over. "Oh, so you think I can't protect myself? After everything we've been through—after all the times I've saved you and Dean—you think I can't handle something as simple as a grocery run?"

Sam's face darkened. "This isn't about your skills. I know you're a good hunter. But you're reckless, y/n. You don't understand what it's like to see someone you love get torn away from you because of one mistake, one slip-up. And then to wake up and think it's happening again..." His voice broke, some vulnerability showing.

You softened slightly, realizing how deep Sam's fear went. But you weren't going to let him accuse you of being reckless. "I do understand, Sam. I know how much losing Dean broke you. But I'm not him. I'm not going to disappear, but you also can't suffocate me because of it."

"I'm not trying to suffocate you. Fuck, you really don't get it, do you?" Sam's voice rang in your ears, and for a second, he just looked at you with disappointment in his eyes. "Just forget it y/n."

The sudden intensity of his words, the way he yelled, startled you. Sam wasn't the type to lose his temper like this—not with you. Sure, you two had your disagreements, but this was different. He was on edge, and you could tell that this wasn't just about the salt. It was about everything that had been weighing on him since losing Dean.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, seeing his fists clench like that scared you, so the only thing you could do right now was walk away. Your voice was quieter now, the fight draining you. "I'll take a walk, clear my head."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you turned to leave the room. The last thing you wanted was to fight with Sam, especially not like this. But before you could reach the door, you felt his hand gently grasp your arm, pulling you back.

"Wait." His voice was softer now, the anger replaced by guilt. Sam pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if letting go would somehow mean losing you again. You relaxed into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his arms and the sound of his breathing helped calm you both down.

For a while, neither of you spoke. It was as if both of you needed that quiet, the space to breathe and let the tension resolve. And after a few moments, you pulled back just enough to look up at him. His eyes were softer now, and you could see he felt bad for snapping.

"You know," you said quietly, "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to worry about losing me every time I step out the door. But you also have to let me breathe, Sam."

Sam let out a long sigh, his hand moving to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I know," he murmured, though his voice still carried the weight of doubt. "I just... after Dean, I've been going nuts. Every hunt, every day, I'm constantly thinking about what could go wrong, what I could lose next. It's like I can't shut it off."

You reached up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing gently along the stubble on his jaw. "Sam, I understand. I really do. But you can't live like this—constantly on high alert, constantly afraid. It's not fair to you. And it's not fair to us."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort of your hands on his skin. "I don't know how to stop," he admitted quietly.

"I think it's always going to be there," you said softly. "The fear. But you don't have to let it control you." You paused, searching his face for a moment before continuing. "I'm strong, Sam. I know how to handle myself. And I promise you, if I ever feel like I'm all up in my head, you'll be the first person I call. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

Sam opened his eyes, looking down at you, and for the first time that night, you saw a flicker of relief in his expression. He nodded, though you could tell it wasn't easy for him. "I can try," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking," you whispered, giving him a small, reassuring smile. You stayed there in his arms, the tension easing itself. Finally, Sam spoke again, his tone lighter but still a hint of guilt in it. "I guess I owe you for getting the salt." You chuckled softly, leaning your head back against his chest. "Yeah, you do. I went through a lot of trouble for that salt."

"Next time, maybe wake me up before you leave," he said, a small smile on his lips, “Or at least don't forget your phone."

"Deal," you agreed with a playful grin. "No more disappearing acts. But you have to promise me something, too." His brows furrowed slightly, "What's that?" he asked. "You have to promise to stop worrying so much. At least a little. You're going to give yourself a heart attack at this rate."

Sam chuckled, the sound low and warm in his chest. "I'll do my best," he promised, “but no guarantees.” You smiled, reaching up to kiss him gently. "I'll take it." Sam kissed you back, slow and soft. When he pulled away, there was a warmth in his eyes, a quiet appreciation for the way you understood him, even when he didn't always know how to explain himself.

"Come on," you said, tugging him toward the table. "I got your favorite sandwiches, you need to eat." Sam hesitated for a moment, glancing at the filled grocery bags. But then he let out a sigh and nodded, he definitely needed these sandwiches now.

"Thank you, baby." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before grabbing the plastic bags and putting everything away. The room still felt heavy with the weight of what you were both going through, but at least you were in it together. You were safe. He was safe. And for now, everything was okay.

kinda need to fight with Sam just for him to be all soft and cutesy with me after and make up..

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags: @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @beausling @angelicjackles @sammyluvr @samwinchesterswifu @sampilled @seasons-of-death @starkeysprincess @rubyvhs @deansenvy @ribbonprincess @mxltifxnd0m

[chrrychills]

heya! do u think u could write about the sbg characters confessing to reader and how you think theyd do it?

i'll never love anyone the same .

main six « confessing!

ashlyn banner:

•she acts nonchalant, but she's internally freaking out.

•she's spent days weighing the pros and cons of confessing, and it got the point taylor had to beg ashlyn to just tell you already. her crush on you was so obvious (at least to your friends) that it hurt.

•you two will spend at least five minutes sitting in complete silence until ashlyn starts talking.

•she's not great with words– we know this. but she's spent a lot of time figuring out what to say, how to convey just how she feels about you.

•ashlyn's a realistic person, she knows rejection is in the realm of possibilities and dreads the scenario of it happening.

•she's a naturally blunt person, and that doesn't change while she confesses. it's charming, in a way.

•eventually, she'll just come out and say it because the overthinking is starting to frustrate her.

•"...i like you. i have for a while."

aiden clark:

•he's either super cryptic or really forward, it just depends on how he's feeling that day.

•it's most likely a spontaneous confession– he listens to his impulsive thoughts way too much.

•if he's nervous, he doesn't show it. he's staring at you with that stupid smile like he didn't just confess to you.

•unless you're a little brain dead, you probably noticed he had a crush on you. he didn't make it super obvious, but his eyes always found yours after he made a joke, and he was basically always by your side, regardless of where you were.

•aiden's observant. if you liked him back, he knew. he didn't comment on it, but he knew.

•it wouldn't be surprising if he confessed in the middle of a conversation, which there's a 99% chance that's what'll happen.

•if you were talking, he'd cut you off with "will you be my girlfriend?"

•if he's talking, he'll absentmindedly slip it into conversation and not realize what he said until you react to it.

•"that bio homework kicked my ass... hey, will you be my girlfriend?"

ben clark:

•he's so nervous and it's so sweet. he'll plan everything out because he's a sweetheart and wants it to be perfect.

•when he invites you to hang out, he seems a bit on edge and can't look you in the eye because you're so gorgeous and he will freeze up.

•100% gets you flowers. will also get you your favorite food– better yet, he'll make it. yes, his hands are trembling when he gives them to you.

•he'll spend the entire night before drafting up the most heartwarming message you've ever read. he feels kinda bad that he can't tell you directly, so he makes sure to communicate how he feels the best he can.

•blushing the entire time you read what he wrote. starts internally freaking out while you read because he's so scared you're not gonna like it.

•is literally giddy when you accept his confession. he gives the best hugs ever, so expect one of those.

•goes into detail explaining what he likes about you (pretty much everything) and how he feels about you. if you cry easily (me) there's a good chance you'll get misty-eyed.

tyler hernandez:

•it took him a while to accept that he had feelings for you, so it'll probably take him months to even think about confessing.

•honestly, you'll probably end up confessing before he does. if you don't, though, there's gonna be a lot of unspoken tension.

•he'll end up confessing for a couple reasons. one, taylor will not stop pestering him until he does because it's so obvious you two like each other. two, he gets so fed up with all the uncertainty and tension. he hates it.

•during the actual confession, he's a mess. his face is pink and he's obviously flustered but he'll get so defensive if you point it out.

•he's lowkey fumbling over his words until eventually he just blurts it out. he thinks it's the most embarrassing thing he's ever done– you think it's sweet.

•"i'm in love with you, okay?!"

•"...shut up– stop laughing!"

•he'll be so butthurt until you assure him that you feel the same way. he's still gonna be butthurt after, but he'll be too distracted to really care.

taylor hernandez:

•taylor's really in tune with her emotions, so she'll know pretty quickly when she develops feelings for you.

•she'll give it a month or so until she confesses, just because she's nervous and she really doesn't wanna mess anything up.

•her confession would be really thought out. she'd have your favorite movie, snacks and drinks laid on her bed.

•she'll try to keep it short and sweet, but taylor has a tendency to ramble. there's a good chance she'll go off topic and you'll just sit there, smiling and listening to her talk until she realizes.

•just like her brother, her face will be pink the entire time. she won't get defensive if you point it out, since you most likely look the exact same way.

•"i've liked you for a while now, but i just didn't wanna say anything. y'know, in case i messed something up between us or you didn't wanna be friends anymore- you still wanna be friends, right?"

•you'll have to tell her you wanna be more than friends. she doesn't wanna accidentally overstep by asking.

logan fields:

•he's the type of person that will go through every possible scenario before making a decision. that's why it took him so long to confess to you– he was nervous you'd reject him.

•when he does decide to confess, the first thing he's doing is hand making a bouquet from his grandparents greenhouse. taylor helps him by asking what your favorite flowers are.

•he's also a rambler, but he doesn't go off topic. he tries to keep it simple because he doesn't want to overwhelm you, and it works! he has to physically stop himself from rambling from nerves, though.

•when you accept his confession, he's smiling from ear to ear for a good week.

•his heart melts when he sees that you've put the bouquet he made in a vase, sitting proudly on your kitchen counter.

•audibly sighs from relief when he realized you didn't reject him– and gets embarrassed when he realizes that you heard him.

lacey's notes: guys i've actually never confessed to anyone before so idk...

i'm also running on a 20 oz redbull and two hrs of sleep ignore any spelling/grammar mistakes.

...maybe i'll edit this later (no i wont)

also thank you all for 100 followers yall are crazy ilyilyily

[emeritusemeritus]

Can you write a Fred x reader where reader is a slytherin student and older than Fred so they never really encounter eachother since they not in the same year level. Until one day they got jinxed/ got into some sort of incidents/ prank (whatever you could think of!) where they are tied together until the spell expires itself. So during the time they get to know eachother and get attracted by eachother flirtatious and witty personalities. But when the spell expires both of them feel like there’s no reason to hang out with eachother anymore so none of them make a move until Fred gets jealous over someone asking reader to Yule ball and then they both confess and happy ending?? Thank you so much!!

Hi love! I’m sorry this took so long, but I had so much fun writing this, hope it’s okay! 🖤

Warnings: pranks, minor swearing, banter, finger jokes, fluff and humour. Sorry Miles Bletchley.

Just a reminder to anyone reading that my requests are currently closed, these are ones that I received a while back that I haven’t had time to write until now.

Word count: 3.1k

Ties that bind.

“Neville, NO!”

It's the last thing you hear before you're unceremoniously dragged through the air completely weightless until you crash into a rather solid frame, disorientated and wholeheartedly perplexed. To make matters much, much worse, when you try to pull yourself away, you realise quickly that you can't move even a foot away from the person you'd inadvertently barrelled into.

"Blimey," you hear someone say from behind you but you can hardly twist enough to look for yourself who it is. You begin to struggle against the invisible confines, beginning to panic about the lack of freedom as a crowd begins to gather around you.

"Bloody Neville," the person directly in front of you curses and for the first time you finally look up, taking in the person you were seemingly attached to. One of the Weasley twins.

"I told you not to touch it!" The other, near identical boy says, reaching to grab something from Neville Longbotton's hands as he stands frozen, shocked at what he'd apparently conjured.

"George undo it now," the boy in front of you says rather harshly, announcing himself to be Fred Weasley. You watch as George fumbles with whatever Neville had previously occupied, a trick wand of sorts that looked flimsy and poorly made. You wait with baited breath as George attempts no less than four times to reverse the spell but the increasingly frustrated and bewildered look upon his face only increases with each attempt, making your hopes of freedom dwindle to almost nothing.

"Longbottom what the bloody hell did you do? What is that thing?" You say for the first time, an annoyed expression evident across your face. For the first time, Fred looks down at you from his ridiculous height and stares for a moment, ginger lashes blinking as he looks upon your face. You avert your eyes at the rather intimate distance between your and the Weasley twin and instead chose to focus your icy glare upon Neville who's eyes visibly widen under your stare before he scuttles off.

"It's a trick wand," you hear from directly above you, Fred's unexpectedly soft voice explaining what the malfunctioning device his twin is wildly throwing around is. "It was loaded with a leg binding jinx but apparently we underestimated Neville's lack of ability with magic."

"It's just his bad wand," you reply absently, almost coming to his defensive but quickly pausing when you see Fred suddenly look at you in confusion as your uncharacteristic leniency of the Gryffindor student.

"How long does it take to wear off?" You ask in a mild huff, realising that nothing George was doing would be able to undo the jinx.

"Um well that's the thing," he says hesitantly, causing you to whip your head round to face him as soon as you heard his nervous tone. "It should expire in about 6 or 7 hours."

"7 hours?!" You ask, eyes wide. "But I have potions in-."

"Yeah that's not happening," George says, moving to stand beside you both. It appears the group surrounding you had dispersed, leaving you alone with only both twins in the corridor between the Great hall and the staircases. "Unless you drag him with you."

"I'm going nowhere near potions or Severus grease face."

"So what do we do now?"

Five hours you'd been tethered to Fred Weasley by an invisible bind that still showed no sign of relenting. You'd found weak points of the bind and had managed to untangle yourselves just far enough that you were able to sit directly in front of each other, legs touching and somewhat entwined but at least you weren't stuck on top of eachother like before. You'd found sanctuary in the prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor, escaping from teachers and students alike until the jinx wore off. You'd been pleasantly surprised when he pulled out a head boy pin from his trouser pocket once you were out of sight of the statue of Boris the Bewildered and had recited the password perfectly to allow you access to the usually restricted area.

"My brother Percy hasn't noticed it's missing yet," he smirked as you looked at him in question, watching him try to slip the badge back into his trouser pocket with a little difficulty thanks to the close quarters between the two of you.

The first hour had been awkward to say the least, with neither of you saying much and desperate to get away. It was embarrassing, humiliating and more than anything you just wanted to run back to your common room but after another hour of torturous silence, he began talking.

The third hour passed quickly and you'd found that he was actually really funny and sincere, much calmer than you'd ever expected him to be. You didn't know him, not really but you'd seen him on the quidditch pitch and heard all about the infamous Weasley twins and their pranks which was intimidating to say the least. You'd figured he couldn't do much more to you than what you were already experiencing and he'd not made any attempt to trick you in the few hours you'd spent together.

The fourth and fifth hour had you both hysterically laughing as you recited your best impressions of the hogwarts teachers, his awful madeye moody impression clearly taking the prize for worst impression ever to be made. You'd gotten surprisingly comfortable on the tile floor, your head resting in his lap though your knees were bent to allow room for the invisible shackles. The conversation had turned to a heart to heart after a few hours of laughter and you found that he was opening up rather easily to you, with lingering looks and shared glances you hoped you hadn't imagined.

“Ask me something personal,” he says with a fleeting smile, looking up from his place on your lap. You’d switched places nearly half an hour ago, with his head now resting against your legs, soft, long fingers hair fanning out across your thighs.

You pause for a moment, thinking of what to ask. “What's your mum like?”

He huffs out a breath of laughter, like an inside joke replaying in his head and you watch as a smirk tugs at the side of his lips.

“My mum,” he begins to say with a smile on his full lips, hesitating for only a minute. “She's a fierce lady, great cook, loving… Sometimes a little pushy.”

“There's seven of you!” You jump to defend her, having learnt all about his siblings from the previous hours of conversation. “Two of them being you and George, I might add, maybe she has to be to keep you in line,” you laugh.

“You may have a point there,” he smirks up at you, staring right into your eyes until you feel yourself get lost in his hazel orbs.

“What about you?”

“Hm?” You ask, your lashes fluttering as you try to blink out of your little daydream whilst being absorbed in looking for the golden flecks in his eyes, praying to Salazar himself that he hadn’t noticed.

“Your mum,” he says, completely oblivious to your gaze.

“Oh,” you frown, feeling a sudden weight upon your shoulders at the very mention of your mother, all lightness and whimsy of the situation gone. “She's well respected… proud Slytherin, beautiful.”

“Guess she passed something on to her daughter then,” Fred smirks, quirking his eyebrow at you and you laugh, nudging him gently with your knee. “Smooth Weasley,” you joke, watching as he settles back down on your leg, one bulging arm coming to rest under his shaggy red hair, his school shirt rolled up to display his veiny, bulging forearm….

“Are all your family redheads?” You ask, prying your gaze away from the slightly freckled patch of skin that seemed to be drawing your attention like gold to a niffler.

“Yeah, have to squint looking at all family photos because it's like looking into straight fire,” he jokes and you can’t help but laugh along, laughing more when you see his head bobbing slightly with your movement. His hair looks unbelievably soft and smooth, like it was perfectly styled to look natural, the pure gold and copper strands standing out against the rest in the faint light.

"So you're Ginger-bred," you add, laughing at your own terrible joke. A burst of laughter spills from him, louder than you’d ever heard and you watch him in slight amazement as he shifts, now sitting up and facing you once again, the place in your lap where his head had been resting now feeling a little empty and cold.

“That was a good one actually, might have to tell George that one.”

“Your doppel-ginger?” Another burst of magical laughter echoes around the room and you watch with a proud smile on your face knowing it was you that was making him laugh like this.

“That one is definitely being passed on, never heard that before”.

“Are all your family Gryffindors?” You ask, turning your head to the side slightly, breaking the momentarily comfortable silence.

“Yeah, though I'd look good in green don't you think?” He winks, gesturing to your Slytherin robes.

“I don't know,” you pause, teasing as you look at him, watching carefully as he follows your eyes. “I guess it's lucky for you that you're so tall, wearing green with your hair... people might think you're a leprechaun.”

“Har-har,” he laughs sarcastically, rolling his eyes in a teasing way but from the smile on his face, he’s far from hurt by your banter.

“So, Yule ball’s coming up,” he begins to say but he’s cut off when you suddenly feel a weight taken off of your limbs, the resistance you’d gotten used to quickly wearing off. You gingerly try to prey your leg further from the point you’d both worked out was the farthest you could go, and to your amazement, you can stretch as far as your limbs can go.

You stand, overwhelmed with relief that the jinx had worn off, wasting no time before stretching and throwing your arms about like a wild man.

Fred laughs and joins in with your excited spin, both of you looking like pure idiots in the middle of the prefects bathroom, dancing around with no music and ecstatic smiles on your faces.

You finally stop, the laughter slowly fading as you feel him pull you in for a hug, his arms stretching around your shoulder with relative ease.

“Thank you for being my date today,” he says cheekily with a full bow as he reaches out for your hand, acting formally.

“It was my pleasure sir,” you play along, thrusting your hand into his as he playfully reaches down to kiss the back of your hand.

“Reckon your potions class is long since finished,” he says, gathering the backpack he’d thrown down in the corner with your book bag. From the lack of light outside, it’s obvious that it’s well past school hours, the entire afternoon spent hiding away with Fred.

You snort, “what a shame.”

“You know, for a Slytherin you’re alright,” he teases.

“Shut up gingerbread, which one are you again?”

He reaches out for you but you manage to scamper as he holds open the door for you both to walk through, hoping you can make it out without anyone seeing you.

You make it right up the corridor towards the staircases before it becomes painfully obvious that you’re parting ways, both of your common rooms in opposite directions.

You turn, just out of sight of the staircases and wait with baited breath for him to hopefully make a move, hoping that you hadn’t read it wrong.

There’s a few moments when both of you stare at each other, neither knowing what to do or say and you watch as his eyes travel across your face, to your lips and then away, the tension breaking.

“Well, bye then,” he says, though there’s a hint of emotion in his voice that sounds almost like sadness or hesitation.

“Oh, bye Fred,” you try your hardest to appear neutral but it’s too hard, you can’t help but hear the disappointment slipping through your tone. He turns away and you take the hint, also turning in the opposite direction as you enter the hall of staircases, tracking them to get where you need to go. You feel eyes upon you but when you turn, you see that he’s walking upwards on one of the staircases, not looking at you. You hang on for as long as you can, trying to spot him each time you join a new moving staircase, watching the red hair eventually fade out of view until you reach the opening to the dungeons.

Two weeks pass and unsurprisingly you hear nothing from Fred, though you seem to be acutely more aware of his presence around school. You hear his voice, hear his laughter and even the passing rumours seem to reach you much more than before, retellings of him and George’s latest prank. You can’t help but search for his red hair in the sea of Gryffindor’s in the great Hall and try to look out for him between classes like a lost puppy. It was amazing really, you’d gone from hardly knowing him, and certainly not knowing him from his twin to being able to completely distinguish him and George apart even with a brief glance.

You told no one of this, naturally, glad that Neville’s misdemeanour hadn’t reached the whole school and that you’d come away largely unscathed, in terms of your reputation. Neville had avoided you at all costs, bumping into you once with panic in his eyes and lasting no more than two seconds before retreating sharpish.

You were gutted, thinking that you’d made an actual connection with him but apparently not, it was just situational. So you did the only thing you could do and return to your life before you’d encountered Fred Weasley, trying to put away any memories or feelings you felt, though you couldn’t deny your life felt that little less exciting now you knew what it was like to spend time with him.

“Y/n?” You turn towards the sound of your name being called, all hope leaving your body quickly when you realise it isn’t him, that it’s Miles Bletchley, a fellow Slytherin that was in the year below you.

“Hi gorgeous,” he says with a smile but you don’t reciprocate, instead fixing him with a slight face of disgust, lips pursing at the nickname.

“Bletchley,” you greet him, making his surname sound as vomitious as possible, which wasn’t a hard task. He was far from the worst Slytherins, keeper on the Quidditch team and an overall nice enough guy but his body language was putting you off completely. Cocky, running his hand through his hair, throwing his weight about.

“So I was wondering if you had a date to the Yule Ball? Gorgeous girl like you has already been claimed but doesn’t hurt to ask right?” He winks.

“Claimed?” You repeat in disgust at his turn of phrase. Your apparently disgust and overall lack of a reply doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightly as he shrugs, a stupid smirk tugging at the side of his thin, chapped lips.

“Figured I’d shoot my shot,” he chuckles, as if he’d made a witty comment that he was so proud of.

“Figure you should stick to goalkeeping, if that’s the shot you’re taking, your aim’s well off,” you say with a roll of your eyes as you turn, walking away from him in a proud sweep, only to tumble into the front of someone seconds after.

Fred.

You open your mouth to greet him but simply pull back slightly, feeling the loss of his large hands around the top of your arms where he’d previously held you. It’s evident he’d seen all of your interaction with Miles, and that he wasn’t too pleased about it.

His gaze is hard and predatory as he glares at Bletchley, giving such a harsh look that it makes you freeze, until he looks at you and his eyes fall soft again. Before you can mutter an apology and walk away, he does something that surprises you, he smiles and speaks.

“So Yule Ball, no keepers, but how about a beater?” He asks with a smirk, but instead of Bletchley’s Lockhart-esque smarmy routine, this one is genuine. He flicks his eyes towards Bletchley’s frame, dragging on your rejection from the Slytherin Keeper. “Gryffindor though of course.” He flashes you a wide smile, his eyes shining as he winks at you and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face involuntarily.

“Oh, George needs a date?” You tease, watching from under your lashes at the myriad of expressions that cross his face in under three seconds. At first he’s shocked, then disheartened, then humoured by your little teasing.

“Funny girl,” he shoots back, the mischievous glint in his eyes turning positively devilish.

“What do you say? May I take the wittiest, prettiest girl in all of Hogwarts to the Ball?” He bows down just as he had that day in the bathroom and gestures for your hand once more.

“You may,” you reply, beaming with joy as you place your hand in his much larger one once again. To your surprise, instead of bending down to kiss the back of your hand as he had before, he gently tugs on your arm and you fall weightlessly forward right back into his chest.

In a move that you’ll remember in vivid detail for all of your life, he leans down, long hair sweeping back as he presses those deliciously full lips onto yours, your hands slipping around his very high shoulders to support yourself. The kiss is quick and chaste but you could cry with sheer happiness, his soft lips on your own igniting a wild spark around you.

When you actually hear a firework around you, you pull away in utter confusion, thinking you’d imagined the signature whinny of a flying firework.

“Couldn’t resist,” you hear from the side and twist around, still wrapped around Fred as you look at George who stands with a smug look on his face at the fireworks he’d released. “Least now he’ll stop talking about you all the time.”

“George,” Fred warns.

“Do you think she’ll go the yule ball with me? Wonder if she’ll wear green, should I wear green? She’s so pretty, soooo funny, I wonder what she’s doing now…”

George’s high pitched, mocking voice gets rapidly quieter with each step as he walks away, fading into the background once again and as you turn to look back at Fred, the colour on his cheeks is a rather impressive bright pink blush.

“Wish I had a camera with me,” you say, making his brow knit together into a quizzical frown as he silently questions your words.

“That’s just the shade of pink I wanted my dress to be.”

[dreamersdivine]

I choose you!

Pairing: PokemonTrainer!Sapnap x gn!reader

Written: June 7, 2022

Warnings: awkward conversations, cussing, 

An: dude idk i don’t write sfw anymore- T^T

"I still can't believe Dream," Sapnap grumbled, kicking a few pebbles out of the way. "He promised my chimchar would be strong enough to beat that stupid squirtle," 

The top of the pokecenter peaked out at him over the hill. "Now I missed out on a shiny," his frustrated mumbles continued as headed towards the building. 

Poor pebbles on the ground became the target of his irritation, kicking them away from his path as soon as he was close enough. Sapnap pushed open the double doors, adjusting the hat on his head. He rummaged in his pocket for his pokeball. "It wasn't a bad fight, but I just need a quick heal," he said, placing the ball on the counter. Then he looked up. You were staring at him slightly amused. "You're not the usual nurse here?" 

"I am not," you agreed, smiling. 

Oh. That smile made him melt into a puddle. You moved a strand of hair out of your face before glancing at the clock. "I can help you in just a few minutes okay," Sapnap nodded silently, taking his pokeball and sitting down nearby. 

You headed into the backroom collecting a few pokemon to return to their trainer's care. Sapnap watched you give the healed creatures back some with a stern frown and others with a smile that made him feel oh so gooey inside. How long had you worked here? How come he'd never seen you before? Lost in thought Sapnap didn't even notice you waving for his attention, your lips moving to say words he didn't understand. 

"Hm?" He blinked.

"Name?" 

"Oh, Sapnap," 

You gave him a puzzled look. "Your Pokémon's name is Sapnap?" You asked slowly. 

"Wait no!" He stood up out of the chair. "I- I'm Sapnap. My chimchar doesn't have a name, not yet at least," you set the clipboard in your hand down. 

"Okay well I'm ready to heal up your pokemon now Sapnap," you chirped. "H-here," he fumbled with the pokeball handing it over. 

"Great let me just make sure this is the right pokeball," you hummed opening up the scanner next to you. "Okay, just wait here a few moments and I'll be right back with your pokemon," you hummed leaving the brunette at the counter. 

You were quicker than he expected. Less than 10 minutes later you were already headed back to him, pokeball in one hand and small fruit in the other. "Here you are, all healed," you grinned. Sapnap took the items from your hands. "Make sure he gets that," 

Sapnap looked down at the berry confused. "I thought he's all healed though?" 

"Oh, he is. I just like to send them home with a treat; kind of like when you get a lollipop from the doctor," you explained. 

He pocketed both of them, handing you some cash. "Thank you, I'm lovely," you both blinked at each other. "I mean you're lovely! I'm...leaving," he muttered practically dying inside. He tugged his hat down more, hiding his face. 

"Remember to give him the berry," you reminded as he stepped through the double doors. 

"Right I will. I'll see you tomorrow," Sapnap waved over his shoulder. "Well, not tomorrow just- yeah. Bye," 

You giggled as he tripped over his own words. The brunette finally left having made a fool of himself, making a beeline for Dream's house. 

Dream had just been trying to enjoy a nice sandwich when Sapnap kicked down the door. 

"I have something to tell you- also wait fuck you for telling me to do that battle. Punz's pokemon was way stronger," 

Dream allowed himself to be dragged off by the collar by the brunette who continued to complain the entire way up the stairs and to his bedroom. "Dude you should have seen them," he gushed. 

"Calm down Romeo you just met them and said like 5 words," Dream rolled his eyes. He let Sapnap continue to ramble though, taking amusement in his friend's new infatuation. 

Unsurprisingly Sapnap was indeed back at the pokecenter the next day. You peeked out at the lobby through the doors as you were scooting past, pausing as you spotted Sapnap. He was standing at the counter aimlessly flicking a pamphlet around. You watched as he perked up making eye contact with you. 

"Hey, back so soon? Not getting into any more fights are you?" You asked approaching the counter. 

"Uh yes. I mean no!" He shook his head rapidly. "I'm- I was just- my chimchar missed you," 

"Your pokemon missed me?" You slowly asked, a grin pulling at your lips. 

Sapnap pulled out the familiar pokeball and pushed it into your hands. "Yeah. I mean. He needs a check up- or something," he waved his hand dismissively, clearing his throat. You blinked before offering him a small smile. 

"Okay then Sapnap, I'll go make sure your pokemon is in perfect health," you pressed the ball allowing his chimchar to be released. "Come with me, you have an odd trainer," you admitted softly to the small chimp as you led it to the back. 

Sapnap watched as you took his pokemon through the doors. As soon as you were out of sight he started formulating his next move. What was that piece of advice Dream gave him? Right. Compliments. That's easy, right? You came back out with his pokeball gracing him once again with your etheral presence. 

"Here you go, nothing was wrong and he's in very good shape," you reported, handing it to him. 

"Thank you," He cleared his throat. Okay, here he goes. He's got this. "I like your um- I like the way you heal my pokemon," what was that. His confidence was quickly squashed by your soft laugh. 

"No! I mean. I like your laugh," he mumbled. His cheeks burned as an embarrassed blush overtook them. 

"Thank you," 

he took his pokemon from you and turned quickly to leave. You waved goodbye to the blushing flustered man. Sapnap was mortified. Some advice Dream gave. 

"Your advice was shit," was the first thing he said, kicking down the blonde's door for the second time this week. 

Dream looked over at him from his usual spot in the kitchen. "Really? A compliment didn't work?" He frowned. "Are you sure you said it correctly?" 

Sapnap threw himself down on the couch. "Of course I did," 

"Right...Well if a compliment didn't work how about talking about favorite hobbies and interests?" 

Sapnap grimaced, shifting uncomfortably. "Have any other advice?" He asked after a brief awkward pause. 

Dream flipped around staring at him with an accusatory glare. "Sapnap," 

"What?" 

"You've had a decent conversation with them right?" 

"Of course I have! I'm just- looking for a more flirty route," Sapnap exclaimed knowing very well he can barely talk to you without dissolving into a mess. 

"Try a pickup line this time. Anyways, what kind of compliment did you use?" 

"..." 

"Sap?" 

"I like the way you heal my pokemon..." 

"What's wrong with you?"  

At Sapnap's silence, Dream began laughing, wheezing even. "You're an idiot," he said between gasps of breath. 

Sapnap groaned attempting to be swallowed by the couch cushions. "Yeah yeah laugh it up, but seriously Dream you gotta help me," the laughter was extinguished quickly. 

"You just said my advice was shit," 

Sapnap turned to peer over the back of the couch. "Dude cmon please," 

"puppy eyes don't work, they just look weird," Dream said, frowning. 

"I'm serious, help me out, I'll cook for like the next week," "Your cooking sucks," 

Sapnap rolled his eyes. "Okay then... I'll feed patches! For like- the next month. And I'll do some extra chores," Dream crossed his arms in disbelief. Even if he were to help Sapnap there was no doubt that Sapnap would just mess up again. Oh well. At least he'll get fewer chores to do, seems like a win-lose to him. Dream fought the slight smirk on his lips. 

"Fine deal, you take care of patches for the next month and extra chores that I tell you and I'll help you plan what to say to them," 

"Deal!" Sapnap exclaimed, shooting up. 

It was a genius plan. Sapnap would walk in, go to the counter, see you, toss out the pick-up line Dream told him then immediately lead into the big question. Dream had him repeat it several times. "Would you like to go out to dinner sometime," that's it, super simple stuff. 

Yeah. It took him two weeks. Two weeks to gather the courage to even think of asking. But today was the day! Today Sapnap was going to ask you on a date and goddammit he was going to say it right. 

Late afternoon Sapnap confidently walked through the pokecenter doors and right up to the counter where you stood with your clipboard. 

"Sapnap!" Your face glowed as you saw him. "It's good to see you, how can I help you today?" 

Sapnap leaned on the counter mustering a charming smile before speaking "Did I hurt when you crawled from heaven?" 

You giggled "What?" 

He shook his head. "No! That's not- um-" 

Oh god, oh no. That went to shit. What was the next step? Um, a compliment.  Wait no it's- walk into the pokecenter! No! It's asking for a date! Ask for a date. He's got this. 

"Would you like to-" Sapnap shifted nervously. 

Anxious thoughts had begun to fill his head. What if you said no? Or already had a significant other? His eyes darted around searching for a question, any question other than the one his lips refused to let pass. You tilted your head confused. 

"-Show me how you take care of the pokemon," he blurted out. 

Great job. At this rate, he'd get a first date. About um. Never. 

Your eyes lit up as he finished his sentence. "Of course! I could show you-" you began rambling off words that Sapnap could only dream of understanding. He flinched as warmth encased his hand. 

"Cmon," you smiled, tugging him towards the back doors. 

Butterflies made him almost sick. You were holding his hand as you lead him to your work area. He was ashamed to admit he didn't understand much that you said but dear god he was hooked on every word you chirped. 

The way he was looking at you had you fumbling over your words. Like you were the most perfect thing he'd lay eyes on. His company felt- nice. 

Sapnap glanced over at the time, heart dropping when he realized hours had passed and he still hadn't asked what he wanted. 

"Well it's almost time for the night shift, so I should probably head home," you hopped down from your seat on the counter. He was silent as you walked with him to the front doors. "I know you didn't understand a word I said," you smiled half-heartedly. "But it was nice to have someone to talk about it with," 

Sapnap offered a bashful smile in return. "I guess I'm not the best actor," 

"No, No you are not," you giggled. 

"Bye," he said, turning away. 

You both headed off in different directions. But the guilt and a voice screamed "do it now!" 

Ask. Ask. Ask. 

Before he could stop himself, his feet halted, body turning to face you and he called out. "Wait," 

You turned confused. "Hm? Is something wrong? If you forget something inside I'm sure the night nurse can-" 

"No, earlier, there was something else I wanted to ask," he said walking closer to you. 

Nervous energy was beginning to eat both of you up with every step he took. "I loved talking about the pokemon but that wasn't what I wanted to ask," Sapnap took a deep breath before blurting out a jumbled mess of syllables and noises that made you giggle. 

"What was that?" 

"Oh for fucks- I wanted to know if you would like to go out..with me..to dinner sometime?" You took a few moments to answer, Sapnap being sick to the stomach with anxious butterflies.

"Of course," you grinned. 

"Dinner would be great for a second date," 

Wait a minute. Sapnap blinked. "Second date? When- when was the first?" 

"Just now," you waved laughing, as you turned the other way once more. "You're pretty cute Sapnap," you added as you left him standing in the road shocked. "See you tomorrow!" 

Sapnap made a sharp noise in celebration, he couldn't wait to run home and tell Dream about what he did without his help. 

Damn. Dream's advice really sucks.  

[helloalycia]

a bitch [one] // leigh shaw

summary: you're used to leigh's constant mood swings and unpredictability, but didn't expect she'd ever do something to hurt you like she did.

warning/s: cheating

author's note: an angsty leigh shaw imagine was requested, so here we are! there's one more part to this so enjoy 😊

part two | masterlist | wattpad

Leigh Shaw could be a very unpredictable woman.

Ever since the unfortunate death of her husband, Matt, she'd become very erratic. It was hard to remember what she was like before he died, but then she'd flash me a smile and say something adorable and I remembered. Other times though, she could be as explosive as they came. If you ever got swept up in her mood swings, you'd be screwed.

Despite this, I remained by her side. That's what best friends did. Even when she yelled at me or gave me the cold shoulder or treated me like dirt, I stayed because I knew that was what she needed.

One time, a few months after Matt's death, I was stopping by to see how she was. A prime example of the cold effect she could have on people.

I raised my hand to knock, but the door suddenly swung open, revealing a peeved Jules and a pissed Leigh further behind her in the hallway.

"Hey," I greeted her sister with a smile, but she moved past me moodily. I glanced at Leigh before catching Jules' arm, stopping her. "What happened?"

Jules smiled bitterly. "You know, you should reconsider where you put your care, Y/N. Some people just aren't worth it."

At that last part, she glared over my shoulder, no doubt at Leigh. I turned to look at Leigh, who merely stuck a middle finger up at her sister before storming towards to the kitchen.

"What a bitch," Jules mumbled, making me wince because it was such a horrible word.

Jules shook me off before marching to her car to leave. I sighed and turned around to let myself in to their house. Closing the door behind me, I followed after Leigh and found her making toast in the kitchen angrily.

"Hey," I began softly, not wanting to give her another reason to get pissed off. Sitting on a stool at the island, I asked, "What happened?"

She forced a smile as she grabbed her toast from the toaster and dropped it on a plate. "My sister can't respect my space is all."

I pursed my lips awkwardly, watching as she grabbed butter from the fridge. Noticing my silence, she glanced up at me through her eyelashes.

"What?" she deadpanned, pausing from her actions.

"I don't think Jules is trying to upset you," I began, knowing I'd probably regret it. "I'm sure she understands you want space, but she loves you. And when you see someone you love hurting, you feel like you have to do something."

A sour smile broke out on her face as she scoffed. "Wow. Could you have your head stuck any further up Jules' arse?"

"Leigh, that's not what I'm–"

"What the hell are you even doing here?" she snapped. "I didn't invite you, Y/N."

Tensing my jaw, I refrained from getting annoyed. "Believe it or not, I actually wanted to check on you."

She curled her lips into a frown. "Well, I'm fine."

As if to prove that she was, she continued to butter her toast, but when she set her knife down, it slipped off the edge of the table and clattered to the floor. Frustrated, she slammed a fist on the countertop.

"It's okay, I'll–"

"Just get out," she cut me off when I was making a move to help her. I paused, wondering if she meant it, then her deadly green glare settled on my face. "Leave."

Sighing with defeat, I nodded and wordlessly left.

—

Sometimes Leigh wouldn't apologise. She'd act like nothing had happened and we'd move on. Other times, she actually would, surprisingly recognising that she'd done something wrong.

There was this one time when I'd invited her over for the evening to eat dinner and watch some films. The dinner went perfectly fine – we talked, we laughed, we spent time together – but then when we settled in the living room to watch a film, things started to unravel.

I can't remember exactly what she'd said. One second we were choosing a film on Netflix, then she was trying to make plans with me on the weekend. Unfortunately, I already had plans with my girlfriend, Alex, and Leigh didn't seem to like this. She'd made a comment under her breath and though I don't remember it specifically, I knew it wasn't polite.

Before I knew it, we were screaming at each other, arguing over the dumbest things. It started off being about my girlfriend and then the most unrelated stuff was being brought up on both of our ends. Sometimes she could be so aggravating, managing to rile me up and bring the worst out in me. The argument lasted a few minutes before she left, leaving me seething and full of hurt.

It was the following day at work when she came to see me next. I owned a café a few doors down from her mother's dance studio and was working a shift when her sister came through the front door.

I smiled at her when she approached the counter dressed in gym gear, her usual getup when at work with her family.

"Hey, how're you doing, Jules?" I asked.

"I'm good," she greeted with a smile, before it faded. "Just a warning, Y/N, Leigh is incoming in one minute. She wants to apologise."

Eyes rolling with mild annoyance, I let out a sigh. As dreadful as our spat was last night, I knew I had to also apologise to her. I'd said some hurtful things that made me feel all icky inside. Going to sleep after a fight was never a nice feeling.

"I don't know how you've put up with her for this long," Jules commented, picking up a cupcake from the display. "She can be so horrible to you."

I frowned, not feeling comfortable talking badly of Leigh behind her back. "That's not fair, Jules. You know what she's going through."

Jules gave me a knowing look. "I do, but that doesn't give her a free pass to treat you like she does."

Shrugging, I busied myself with cleaning up the crumbs from Jules' cupcake and giving her a plate.

"I take it you're going to forgive her then," she stated, though she definitely knew the answer judging from her expression.

"We both said some things we shouldn't have," I tried to explain so it didn't seem like I was giving in so easily, which deep down, I definitely knew I was, but Leigh was worth it.

Jules chuckled. "Yep, you're forgiving her. Looks like it's Leigh's lucky day."

I didn't say anything as she picked up the plate, ready to take a seat at one of the tables. Just as she was about to leave, she paused thoughtfully.

"You know, if you didn't have a girlfriend already, I'd say you were whipped," she said casually.

Ignoring her words, I watched her take her a seat on one of the spare tables. She made jokes like that a lot, but the truth was that I would probably do anything for Leigh. We'd been best friends since university – that was way too long to simply throw away our friendship because she was going through a tough time. And yes, the girlfriend talk threw me off at times... by the time I'd realised I liked Leigh as more than a friend, she was engaged. And I got over it, but Jules continued with the jokes and I continued to dismiss it.

As Jules warned, Leigh entered the café and caught my eyes with a nervous smile. I returned it, just as nervous as she looked, before watching her approach the counter. She was dressed in gym gear, like her sister, but a fine layer of sweat coated her skin which made me think she may have just finished teaching a class.

"Hey," she said with a rare gentleness to her voice. Her hands rested on the counter, fumbling slightly, before she put them by her sides instead. "How are you?"

Uncomfortably, I played with a loose thread on my apron. "I've been better, not gonna lie."

She exhaled regretfully. "I want to apologise, Y/N. Last night... it wasn't fair what I did. Just snapping at you like that."

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet and avoided her eyes.

"I just get so angry sometimes," she admitted, noticing I wouldn't speak. She sounded exhausted and I looked up to see her running a hand through her hair. "I can't explain it. My anger at you wasn't about Alex or the plans, it was just me."

"It's because you're still hurting," I told her what I'd observed, shoulders relaxing. "And you're not very good at expressing that."

She shook her head, eyes drifting to the till distractedly. "I should be because I keep hurting the people I love."

My heart ached at the devastation in her voice and I put my hand out, motioning for her to take it. Thankfully, she did and I squeezed hers gently.

"Look, let's just forget it happened," I said with a small smile. "I... I didn't exactly say the nicest of things either."

She grimaced, letting go of my hand. "No, I get why you said it. It wasn't fair of me to just start on you like that. You were just defending your girlfriend... God, I can be such a bitch sometimes."

I winced at the word, it grating my ears. "That's not true, Leigh."

"It is." She nodded slowly, rolling her eyes. "Everybody thinks it. Including you."

"I don't think that," I said with creased brows, meeting her saddened eyes. "You're not a bitch. I've never once thought that."

"Really?" She raised a brow, smiling with defeat. "Not even that time when I stole your doughnuts after that fight we had two weeks ago?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Not even when I snapped at you for no reason the other day when you tried to help me write my article?"

"Not even then."

Her expression softened with guilt. "Not even when I called you a selfish jerk last night for not wanting to spend time with me even though you have a life of your own?"

I rounded the counter and stopped before her, looking between her guilt-ridden eyes. "Especially not then, Leigh."

She breathed out quietly and I pulled her in for a hug, glad when I felt her relax beneath me. Her arms clasped around my waist and I was glad we were good again.

—

It was a year later when Leigh and I eventually got together as a couple. It was a long time after I broke up with my girlfriend and it was completely unexpected.

I'd invited Leigh to be my 'date' to my mum's birthday party, since the two had gotten on so well in the past. She was happy to oblige, but as soon as we arrived, her mood changed.

I was helping collect the pizzas from the delivery guy when he started to flirt with me. At the time, I didn't even realise, but I knew that Leigh had acted different since it happened. When I finally confronted her about her sudden mood swing, she proceeded to make out with me completely unexpectedly and then admitted she was in love with me.

I'm not gonna lie, it was a good time. Since breaking up with my girlfriend, I'd been single and falling for my best friend all over again. Leigh making the first move was all I'd needed to finally share how I felt, too.

That was six months ago, and since then, we'd been going strong. Of course, there were still times when she had her mood swings and took it out on me (and literally everyone else) without realising, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I was used to it, used to her. So much that I should have trusted her even when presented with conflicting evidence.

We were at her workplace, Basically News, where she wrote columns part-time. It was a work party she'd been invited to and she'd asked me to be her date, which of course I said yes to. At the moment, we may or may not have been a little tipsy as we stood in the corner, drinking from flutes of champagne.

"Thank you again for coming here tonight as my date," Leigh said with a grin, arms laced around my neck as she held me close.

Pressing a kiss to my lips briefly, she pulled away and left my head spinning, and not just because of the alcohol.

"Any excuse to not be on the closing shift at work is good enough for me," I said playfully, resting my hands behind her waist.

She gasped. "Oh? So it wasn't me who persuaded you to come tonight?"

I pulled a face, feigning forgetfulness. "Hmm, I'm not too sure. Maybe you'll have to remind me why I agreed to come."

She bit her lip to contain her grin, eyes flickering to my lips. Leaning in, her lips met mine and I closed my eyes, enjoying the way she combed her hand through my hair and tilted my head towards her so she could get better access. She was a really good kisser and she knew the effect she had on me as I felt her smirk into it, catching her breath, before chasing down my lips and nibbling on them temptingly.

Remembering where we were, I gently pushed her back and tried to contain my smile. "Make it PG, Leigh. You're at work."

She licked her lips and began to laugh, green eyes darting between mine. "You're just so cute."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "I don't want everyone here knowing how irresistible you are or they might try to steal you away."

Her laughter filled the air, making my stomach flip at the sound.

"Though I think they may already know that because of how sexy you look tonight," I added, eyes fluttering down her body to appreciate just how well she pulled off her fitted black dress.

She raised her brows with surprise, making me mirror her expression comically.

Leaning close to my ear, she said above a whisper, "D'you wanna know something not-so-sexy?"

Her breath tickled my ear and sent shivers down my spine, making me tense up slightly. Judging from the expression on her face, she was very much aware of what she was doing to me.

"What?" I asked with amusement.

"I really need to pee," she said, and I began to laugh because she did, too, and I knew she wasn't kidding. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, she added, "I'll be right back."

Letting go of me, she waved goodbye before going to the toilets. I busied myself with getting to know her colleagues whilst I waited, until five minutes had passed and I realised she still hadn't returned. Deciding to check on her, I headed in the direction of the toilets, only to freeze when I saw something I definitely wasn't expecting.

Leigh was kissing another girl outside of them.

It was her colleague, Abby, that was the first thing I noticed. But I didn't stay to make out anything more as I immediately turned around and walked away, trying to make my brain catch up to what I'd just seen.

Leigh was kissing somebody else. Somebody that wasn't me. Somebody who I had always suspected had a thing for her, but I never considered that maybe Leigh had a thing for her, too.

Definitely not tipsy anymore, I found the nearest table and took a seat, trying not to assume the worst. But how else could I perceive what I'd just seen? It could have been a mistake, though I was so shocked and hurt and angry that I couldn't imagine how. Maybe she'd explain herself to me. Or maybe she'd tell me what actually happened. Maybe.

Leigh returned not long after, finding me at the table. Smiling like nothing had happened, she pulled me up and led me to dance. Not once, for the remainder of the evening, did she suggest that anything was out of the ordinary, nor did she explain herself. And I couldn't help but wonder how I had the worst luck with women.

This one hurt way more than the last time because it wasn't just anyone – it was Leigh.

—

A year and a half ago:

"Danny mentioned the breakdown you had last week because they didn't have doughnuts, so I, er, brought you these just in case."

Leigh cracked a small smile in the passenger's seat before accepting the box I held out to her. I'd just parked up outside the place where she went to her grief counselling group, having offered to drop her off. It had only been a few months since Matt died, but sometimes, the old Leigh shone back through and it made me feel hopeful that she'd make it through this.

"Thank you," she said genuinely, fingers wavering on top of the box, before she lifted her gaze to meet mine. "And thanks for the ride. You didn't have to."

I shrugged, thumb tapping the steering wheel mindlessly. "I don't mind. I just wanna make sure you get here okay."

She sighed, shaking her head, though a ghost of a smile was on her lips.

"Text me when you're done and I'll be happy to pick you up, too," I added casually.

"Thanks," she repeated, though didn't make a move to leave my car just yet. I didn't rush her.

Sadly, the silence was broken when my phone began to ring and my girlfriend's name flashed on the screen in my car where my phone was connected to. Glancing at Leigh, I just about made out the eye-roll she did.

"Sorry," I apologised, before declining the call instantly.

"Why d'you do that? Could've been urgent," she said with a clipped tone.

Oh, no, I thought. Whenever she used that tone, it meant she was picking a fight.

"I'm here with you," I said like it was obvious, hoping that one thing didn't ruin the moment.

She tensed her jaw, looking down as her hair fell around her face. "Whatever."

Before I could think of a way to make her feel better, the screen lit up again and my ringtone echoed through the car. I winced at the glare Leigh sent to the screen. If looks could kill, my car would be toast.

Declining the call, I looked to her worriedly. "What's wrong, Leigh?"

Her glare fell to me. "Why the hell do you keep declining it? She's calling you for a reason."

I raised my eyebrows. "Because I'm here with you? Alex can wait. I'm taking you to grief group."

"Well, I'm here at grief group," she mocked, turning to face me with an unexplainable frustration.

I didn't understand why she was so touchy all of a sudden. The car ride here, she'd been fine. Just a moment ago, she'd been fine. But now... now she was acting unreasonable.

My phone buzzed in my pocket suddenly, followed by a tone that signalled I had a text. Leigh smiled bitterly, rolling her eyes.

"Let me guess," she muttered. "It's her."

Still very much unable to keep up with her mood swings, I didn't answer. Her gaze snapped to mine as she stared at me with disbelief.

"Why the fuck aren't you checking it?!"

I grimaced, my own exasperation slipping out when I blurted, "I'm a little confused to what you want from me right now, Leigh!" Breathing out slowly, I said, "I'm sorry if this is bothering you. I'll turn off my phone next time."

As if I'd deeply offended her, she raised a brow incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Why would this bother me?"

Okay, I was extremely confused now.

"I don't know," I admitted, bewildered.

"Is that what you think of me? Some clingy bitch who won't let you live your life?"

I widened my eyes. "What?! Leigh! I never said–"

"Sorry if taking me is such a task," she said abruptly, moving to put the box of doughnuts on the dashboard.

"I never said that," I told her sternly.

"You didn't have to. I know already. I'm just a burden on everyone."

She got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her. Meanwhile, my confusion was still trying to make out what the hell just happened.

"Don't bother picking me up," she said through the open window of the passenger's door. A scowl was on her face as she added, "You should go spend time with Alex. She's probably missing you."

Breathing out, I leaned back into my seat and watched her walk away and to the entrance of the building. When she acted like this – so push and pull with her emotions – I was so conflicted. What could possibly be going on in her mind that she managed to flip everything that just happened? A complete 180?

Knowing she'd just need some time to cool off, I shook my head and focused on leaving. But then I remembered my phone went off and pulled it out to see what was so important. Aside from two missed calls from Alex, I saw I had a voicemail, too, not a text.

Grumbling fo myself, still disgruntled by Leigh's attitude, I raised the phone to my ear to have a listen, whilst hoping it wasn't actually anything life-threatening.

At first, all I could hear was some very faint laughing and vague noises, kind of like material rubbing together and breathing. I assumed Alex had left me a voicemail without even realising since I'd done that countless of times to other people, having dropped my phone in my bag without realising it was still on. But then the noises became more distinct and I made out words.

"Jake, stop messing about," a voice said, whom I instantly recognised as my girlfriend.

I furrowed my brows. Jake? Jake as in the guy she worked with Jake?

"If you stop teasing me then maybe I will," a gravelly yet devious voice responded.

My throat went dry when I heard more laughter before it went quiet. It didn't take a genius to understand what was happening, especially when the moans that followed echoed in my ear, begging me not to forget.

Unable to listen anymore, I hung up and threw my phone onto the passenger's seat. Tears welled in my eyes as I glanced over at it hesitantly, almost wishing it hadn't even existed. And as much as I didn't want to accept the glaring fact, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

She was cheating on me.

[maplecornia]

chapter 9

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.61K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: this chapter makes me laugh, especially the scene with Jojo and Namjoon.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags:@kookaine |@fangirl125reader |@kookiebbyxx |@taradevonne

You’ve been waiting for an hour.

Tilting your head back, you sigh, extremely bored.

You've tried everything you could think of to bypass the time. Reading, writing, watching YouTube, then switching over to Netflix, even attempting to doze in the slightly uncomfortable waiting room chair.

None of them have worked.

Currently, you're doodling in your sketchbook, but no concrete idea comes to mind for the sketch. Leaving you with tiny flowers, faces, and body parts on the page as though it were a practice sheet.

Peering over the sketchbook, you scan the room for any sign of life, but as the day has dragged on, so has the crowd.

You don't see any sign of Kim Namjoon anywhere, and the receptionist hasn't called you over ever since you turned in the forms she gave you. Uninterested, your eyes glazing over, you pull out your phone, peering at the time.

12:30 pm.

Heaving a sigh, you tilt your head back, the music playing through your GalaxyBuds. Yet it does no good to lift your spirits.

You suppose it's only fair, you made him wait, now it's his turn.

Setting your phone down once more, you purse your lips, as your gaze falls on a flower swaying in the wind outside.

It's the only flower you can see amongst the bush. It stands almost forlornly in the midst of multiple of its fellow brethren withered around it. Still, it stands strong, unwilling to fall victim to the harsh weather outside.

A thought crossing your mind, you turn to your sketchbook, quickly turning the page and beginning a vigorous sketch before you lose your idea.

Unbeknownst to you, as you progress halfway through the sketch, Kim Namjoon bursts into the lobby, looking out of breath and flustered.

He wears a bright white T-shirt, one with a small black Nike emblem across his left pectoral muscle. It hangs sort of loose around his neck, his collarbone visible as cooling sweat causes him to glisten like a bright star.

It's not as noticeable, considering that he wears a thick black sweatshirt zipped down around his shoulders. It's simple, with thin white stripes running down the sleeves and white soft underlining to it.

The black sweats he wears seem to fit with the outfit, the same white stripes running down each pant leg. Each piece of clothing has a Nike emblem on it and pairs well with the white Nike AirForces he wears on his feet.

They’re simple but rich clothes and bring to mind the same clothes Jungkook was wearing before.

The cooling sweat on his skin and the way his hair falls a bit messily underneath his cap could lead to the presumption that they were doing a major dance practice before all of this.

No matter the case, he didn't expect the meeting to take this long, and he feels terrible for making you wait, despite everything. As he looks for any sign of you, he doesn't find any.

Worried that you have already left, he knocks on the front desk, gathering the attention of the receptionist that helped you earlier. Kim Jojo raises her head, and as she catches sight of RM, her eyes widen just the slightest bit, but not enough for him to notice.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Namjoon, what can I--”

“Yes, yes hello.” Namjoon interrupts her, too panicked to care about formalities.

He wants to catch you before you get tired of waiting and leave. First impressions are everything to him, and if he has a bad one…Shaking the worry away, he leans forward over the counter separating the receptionist from him and she flinches away at the sudden closeness.

RM either doesn't notice or doesn't care, but either way, he meets her with an intent stare, every word uttered from his lips urgent and careful.

“Has anyone by the name of Lin Yen come in?” The receptionist opens her mouth to respond but before she can say anything, he holds up a finger.

A thought having crossed his mind, he reaches into his back pocket, bringing out his phone. He tries to bring up the picture of you while Jojo stands there, half in shock, half in annoyance. As soon as he finds it, he lets out a little victory shout, one that startles her.

Grinning, he presents it to her, and she peers at a strange picture of you. After she looks at it, Jojo pulls back, her brows crinkling in confusion.

“She looks like this. If she came in, could you please tell me? I've been waiting since 8:00 this morning to meet her.” Jojo sighs, trying to gain her composure before responding.

“Mr. Namjoon--” she begins, but Namjoon interrupts once more.

“She’s my new assistant, you see, and I need to begin her training today. She needs to know the ropes before our busy season comes back around.” He explains, pulling the phone back and trying to pocket it once more.

Instead, he ends up knocking over a container filled with an assortment of pens and pencils. Surprised, he fumbles to pick it up but ends up spilling it all over the floor. Cursing under his breath, he reaches down to pick up some pencils that have fallen.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jojo picks up the container, righting it on the counter with a loud thud. Startled, RM glances up at her eyes wide, and she smiles sweetly.

“Please, just leave it.” She says between her teeth. He shrugs, almost reluctantly standing. She sighs in relief, carefully putting the pens and pencils back in their place.

“Now...Mr. Namjoon, please listen--” once more, she cannot finish, Namjoon unable to shut up to save his life.

“I’m sorry, but if you need any more information on her I could--”

“Kim Namjoon!” This time it's Jojo's turn to interrupt him, her patience finally wearing thin.

RM instantly falls silent, a bit surprised at the outburst.

Jojo takes a steadying breath before continuing.

“Now, the person you are talking about has already come in. I told her you were in a meeting and had her wait in the waiting room for you to return.” At the information, RM turns to the waiting room where he catches sight of you for the first time in real life.

He notices you vigorously sketching out your idea. Smiling, he can't help but smile at the familiarities he finds in you. You look exactly like the picture Jaejin sent, despite how weird it was.

“I had expected to receive a notice of your return, so I could send her to you, but now that you're here….” Namjoon turns away from you and flashes his contagious smile at Jojo who is once more taken aback.

“Thank you,” Namjoon says with gratitude, reaching across the desk and holding her hand as he bows before turning away.

Jojo, watching him go, turns beet red before collapsing behind the desk in exhaustion. Another fellow receptionist cries out with alarm before tending to her in concern.

You, once more, having no awareness of the events happening around you, continue to sketch. Having finished the rough sketch you begin to define every line, detail, and curve. As you work, you bite the inside of your cheek, sometimes licking your lips in your trance of concentration.

When you're lost in your mind of imagination and creativity, nothing from the outside world can distract you.

And yes, that also includes a very tall, very real version of Kim Namjoon striding towards you.

You don't look up as he comes within a few feet in front of you. You don't even notice as he bends to your eye level, trying to catch your attention. It doesn't break your concentration, even as you reach for an eraser, lightly humming to the music playing in your ears. He smiles, almost laughing at your concentration before he covers his mouth, trying to be quiet so that you don't notice he’s there.

Trying to tease you, he carefully (as much as he’s able) sits down next to you. He was planning on pulling out one of your GalaxyBuds and surprising you, but as he catches a glimpse of your work, he’s stopped cold.

It's breathtaking.

You have created an awestruck image of a woman, on her knees. She wails out in agony as she sits amongst a pile of ash, flecks of it falling around her as though there's a fire burning nearby.

However, that’s not what catches Namjoon’s eye.

Amongst the ash, if anyone looks closely, they'll be able to see that there are small, scattered remains of bones hidden.

She sits amongst them, wailing, the look on her face one of pure anguish and sorrow as the ash from the fading bones stains her skin and her dress.

As though she has lost everyone she’s held, dear.

RM can't seem to look away, entranced by the grotesque beauty of the image and the talent of the artist.

He admires the way you set it up, the way you created the girl imperfectly, but still real. Because after all, who in real life is perfect? As he watches your pencil move expertly across the page, he can't help but think that with each stroke, the creation grows more and more lifelike.

As though she were truly crying out in the pain her heart brings. As though she were alive and breathing.

Almost against his wishes, his hand reaches out to touch the paper, if only to make sure that the actual sketch is truly a mere fabrication of pencil and paper.

As his fingers graze the parchment, that is when you snap out of your concentration.

Eyes widening, you jolt up straight, immediately turning to look at your side.

As soon as your eyes meet Namjoon’s, his hand flinches off the paper. He lets out a soft gasp as he flinches away, surprised by your sudden attention.

Just like with Jungkook, you're frozen in place.

Unable to move.

Unable to function.

Unable to speak.

And just like Jungkook, Namjoon is the same way.

But for a different reason.

He was caught in the act, and he doesn't know what to do.

Your eyes hold him in a sort of bind.

For a moment he forgets what he was doing there, he forgets what his purpose is, for a moment he even forgets why you are there.

For a split second, it's just you and him in a pocket in space.

Your eyes holding his, his eyes holding yours.

Kim Namjoon.

The leader of BTS. The first member of the group you have grown to love. Talented, handsome, a practical genius, he is just as mature and intimidating as you expected him to be.

Despite how close the two of you are sitting, he still seems larger than life, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even real.

He doesn't seem like it after all.

His skin seems too real, too perfect. His hair is too soft, too smooth. His eyes are too warm and too brown.

Almost exactly like the milky chocolate brown you’ve seen so often in so many photos, except for one thing.

As you stare into them, you can see life so clearly alight in them. How they reveal so many emotions at the same time. There are so many that it's almost impossible to read them at all. Serene and peaceful, they are poets' eyes.

So emotional, yet so mysterious and secretive at the same time.

Dreamboat eyes.

“Kim Namjoon?” you whisper, almost unsure if it's him or not.

As you do, his face makes that mixed expression between confusion and amusement as he chuckles softly, looking away and breaking the connection. Holding his hand up to his mouth, he nods, clearing his throat, but not saying anything for a moment.

“Yes, that's who I am, and you must be...Lin Yen?” your heart jumps at the fact that he knows your name.

Speechless, all you can do is nod mutely as he utters another adorable chuckle, one that always seems to remind you of Goofy.

“Jaejin didn't tell me you were an artist.” As soon as he says that, you notice that your sketchbook is still open, and showcasing your imperfect, unready sketch.

Panicking, you fumble to get it closed. Blushing, you hug it tightly to your chest, as though it could erase the fact that he just got a sneak peek into your very soul.

“What's wrong? It was good!” RM asks, worried.

Biting your bottom lip in trepidation, you shake your head, hiding your face.

“Don't lie….” you mumble.

You know it wasn't close to being done, and it wasn't nearly as perfect as it could have been. You're quite disappointed in it at the moment. You feel as though it was too rushed due to the many ideas pouring out from your brain at the exact moment.

As you take an ashamed peek at Namjoon, you find him staring at you, a slight smile playing on his lips.

“What's wrong, are you okay?” he asks, tilting his head as though you were a shy child. You smirk, playing along and nodding very slowly before he continues.

“I see. You should know, however, that you are very talented.” At the compliment, you snort in disbelief, shoving the sketchbook and pencils back safely in your satchel.

“Please.” You sigh. “I know I'm no Picasso, and certainly not talented.”

Finished with packing your art supplies, you are reminded of the reason you are here. A blush of shame appearing on your cheeks, you turn to Namjoon, a bit guiltily.

“And I’m also not known as the bird to rise before the worm.” RM seems a bit confused before you stand and bow to him in apology.

“I am so sorry for being late today. You see I….”

Remembering the receptionist's words from before, you decide to keep the reason to yourself.

“....I have nothing to say for myself. I'm sincerely sorry.”

“Please, there’s no need for that,” Namjoon responds, standing himself and tapping you on the shoulder.

At the touch, you stand straight, only to find an extremely tall man standing before you, looking more intimidating than before. Heart beating fast you gulp, stepping back a bit.

Luckily, he doesn't notice your act of distance and just smiles at you before continuing.

“After all, I was late as well, so let's call it even, huh?”

You smirk and nod, thankful that he’s not too angry about it, but it doesn't completely erase your guilt.

“But now that you mention it….” Namjoon starts and intrigued, you glance up to see him back up a bit as well.

Confused, you raise an eyebrow before he holds out his hand to you.

“My name is Kim Namjoon, I’ll be your boss during your time here. First and foremost, welcome to BigHit entertainment, I hope you enjoy your time working here with us.” He introduces himself, warmly.

Catching on, you take his hand, shaking it gently, and trying to ignore the fact that yours is much more like a child's compared to his.

“Hello, Mr. Namjoon! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my name is Lin Yen and I look forward to working with you!” you respond, returning his grin with one of your own.

After you're finished introducing yourself, he releases your hand and steps back, taking your satchel in his hands and handing it to you.

“Well, Ms. Lin, are you ready to begin?” He asks, and you accept the offer, hiking the satchel on your shoulder before looking up at him in expectation.

“Where do we start?”

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: first day at work is finally starting, yall excited? eheheehehe get ready for some namjooon and yen moments to come

chapter 10 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

[nothing-but-dreamy]

COMRADES

Pairing: FFXV!NYX ULRIC x MALE!READER

Words: 1.567

Warnings: cursing

@furtato5ever Thanks for your request! I had fun to write it and I hope you will like it

Synopsis: Sometimes, things get messy and go wrong and in these times, it's good to have a friendly supporter by the side

Exhausted, Nyx sat down on a bench in front of his locker, raking his fingers through his hair to loosen the strands and to get the sand and dust out of them. With closed eyes, he enjoyed the silence around him. The first time in hours there was no noise. It was just quiet and peaceful. Nyx was just sitting there for a few more minutes as he heard something soft coming from some distance. The sound was low, even muffled but Nyx recognized it as crying.

Frowning, Nyx stood up and was about to follow the sound as Luche stormed into the locker room, furious with a raging expression and gritted teeth, "Damn it!", he called out and punched into the nearest locker that the metal was screeching nasty.

"What's the matter?", Nyx asked, looking warily at his friend who was usually calm and composed.

"What's the matter?", Luche hissed, mimicking the question while narrowing his eyes on Nyx who flinched back by surprise about the hate-filled eyes.

"Four Glaives are injured and in hospital! Four! Drautos yells and screams how messed up things were just because this idiot is too clumsy for his own good! I tell you what, just to have the ability to use the King’s magic shouldn’t be enough to join the Kingsglaive. He’s the best example!"

"Who do you mean?", Nyx asked and regretted it immediately as he saw Luche's gleaming eyes.

"Who I mean? The newbie, for fuck saken! I tell you, this guy will be our end! He can't do the easiest things. During the last training? He almost killed his partner as his blade slipped through his hand in the middle of a warp!”, Luche screamed and threw his hands frustrated in the air before he turned back to Nyx, “Oh! Or during the training with the fire magic? He almost burned down the whole Kingsglaive headquarters! On the battlefield earlier? He should secure the left wing but no! The idiot was hiding behind a wall like a coward just watching how the Behemoth ran through the line which is the reason why four of us are in the damn hospital now.", Luche called out and as he was done, he was panting for air. Without saying another word or waiting for Nyx to respond, he grabbed his things and left the locker room to get off some steam somewhere else.

As Luche was gone, the silence seemed to be even louder than before and through it, the muffled sound of new cries caught Nyx' attention again.

Slowly, Nyx followed the sound through the room to the last row of abandoned lockers, walking around them to find the source of the soft cries in a corner: Yn, the newbie.

Yn sat on the ground, leaning against the old, used metal of spare lockers. His head hung low between his shoulders. He was still dressed in his dusty battle uniform, just the hood laid loosely around his neck and the gloves in his lap. All in all, the sight of him screamed for misery.

Without a word, Nyx walked over to his comrade, kneeling down to sit next to him, leaning against the same locker as Yn.

Yn noticed the other Glaive but he didn't dare to look up at him. Yn felt ashamed. He blamed himself for everything Luche had said earlier. He was the reason why others were injured. The mission had almost failed because he was a coward. With a bit of force that the door of the locker clacked, Yn leant his head back, staring at the ceiling, "I don't think I can do that. No! I’m sure I shouldn’t do this.", he whispered.

"It wasn't just your fault.", Nyx said calmly, remembering how messy things had been on the battlefield.

Yn released his breath, "You heard Luche. It was my fault.", he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut but couldn't stop new tears from falling down. Now, he even felt ashamed of crying in front of the famous Nyx Ulric.

Nyx watched Yn. He had been in his position before as well. Doubting himself. Asking what he was doing with the Glaives. All Glaives felt like this from time to time. That was just naturally and came with the job they were doing. But to let these thoughts sink too deep into their minds could end deadly, "Well, you're new-"

"Yeah, I’m the new one and I messed up! Again.", Yn hissed, angry about himself.

"Yes, you did.", Nyx said honestly, shrugging with his shoulders, "But we all did before. No matter what plans the Captain or Luche have...on the battlefield, things are different. Things get out of control."

Slowly, Yn turned his head to look at the man next to him who got called ‘hero’. He had heard so many incredible stories about Nyx that Yn saw him more as an idol than just as a soldier, "Yeah… right. I'm sure you also did things wrong, huh?", he scoffed, unamused.

Nyx chuckled low, "Oh, trust me, I did. By the sight of my first Behemoth? I was rooted to the spot in the middle of the field. I couldn't move, at all. I mean, these demons are scary as hell. Niflheim uses them to intimidate us and guess what? It works pretty well the first few times.”, Nyx said and remembered his first fights behind the wall all these years ago.

“And then? What happened? Were you also ‘hiding behind a wall like a coward’?”, Yn asked, quoting Luche’s words.

“Oh, no. No. I wasn’t hiding. Like I said, I was rooted to the spot. Libertus had to push me out of the way or otherwise I wouldn’t sit here with you right now. I was so scared. I expected to die there. I mean, have you seen these things? They’re big, mean, vicious monsters. with their huge teeth and horns.”, Nyx explained with a grin.

“Hell, tell me about it…”, Yn breathed, agreeing with Nyx while remembering how the big paws of the Behemoth were drumming mercilessly on the ground and the claws were burying into the sand just inches from the spot where he was crouching.

“It’s okay to be scared. We’re not machines like Magiteks. We feel things when we’re fighting. We’re humans after all. Yes, some of us got injured but they’re still alive and they will make it. I know the guys, they’re tough. And if you ask me, I’m still convinced that it was the wrong decision to send you to secure a line without backup. No one expects you to know everything just yet. Wielding blades and using magic is one thing. Learning to live with fear is something else, something that needs some time and practice.”, Nyx said reassuringly and nudged Yn’s shoulder with his own.

The mission order had been a stupid decision in the first place but then, Nyx remembered how he got tested by the Captain in almost the same way. Maybe it was just one of these cruel ideas to see if the new one was cut from the same cloth as the Captain himself...

“I should quit. I will mess things up again and again. It’s just a matter of time until someone dies because of me. I couldn’t forgive myself.”, Yn said low, casting his eyes to the ground.

Nyx watched the young guy. He had seen a fire in Yn’s eyes that told Nyx that he wanted to fight against Niflheim. Yn had his own reasons to fight against Insomnia’s enemies and now, he just had to learn to use these reasons as his drive. Nyx nodded slowly, “You could quit but as I see it you don’t want to. You wanna fight. You wanna kick asses. You just have to get better with your skills.”

“Yeah, and how? The last time I tried to train, I almost blew up this place.”, Yn said crestfallen, fumbling with the gloves in his hands.

“Then, we train together. I will show you a few tricks. You know, Libertus sucked at using lightning magic. One time, he even knocked out himself. I’m not even sure what he tried in the first place and then, he laid shocked on the ground. I swear, I even saw small clouds of smoke evaporating from his ears.”, Nyx said grinning and was pleased to hear Yn chuckle, “And now, Libertus used these powers regularly without hurting himself. Just one tip, if he uses magic? Keep some distance. Just in case.”, Nyx said with a wink.

Yn laughed and wiped the tears from his eyes. He still felt miserable for failing the mission and his comrades. He was sure, the Captain and Luche were disappointed and Yn expected to get a speech about it...or even some impositions. But Nyx’ words had been reassuring. Now, he felt less alone with the fear he had felt before, “Thanks. This talk was … I guess I needed that.”, Yn said, feeling better than before.

Nyx stood up, offering his hand to his comrade who took it and stood up as well. With a grin, Nyx looked at Yn, “You’re welcome. We're Glaives. We fight together. We fall together. And, most importantly, we drink together. Come on, the first drink is on me.", Nyx said and just like that, Yn had found his first new, real friend and supporter.

[tf2-parqcxsm]

Demoman x Reader: After a Long Fight

a request from one of my favorite writers from wattpad. enjoy some demo love!

You woke up to the sound of creaking. You fluttered your eyes open, your vision immediately met the bright light that was coming out from the window. It looked like the sun had already rosen up, a few clouds barely doing their job to cover the sunlight. Squinting your eyes, you rolled over to the other side of the bed, reaching for someone to wrap your arm around. But your arm merely slouched off and landed on the bed. You fully opened your eyes and saw that nobody was there beside you.

Confused about the absence of a warm body, you sat upright. You looked around and your sight landed on your lover, who was standing in front of the cabinet. He must be preparing to go to work.

A frown crept its way on your face. He was going to leave early. "Tavish?" You called out softly, to which he responded quickly and turned around to while he was putting on his belt. As soon as he laid his eye on you, he grinned cheekily. "Mornin', lass. Did I wake ye up?" He questioned you, and you shook your head. "No. You're going to work already?"

The Scot noticed the sad tone in your voice. He knew you hated being alone for hours. "That's right, lass. That old hag who yells at us while we fight called as soon as I woke up." He explained, then almost immediately he perked his head up towards your direction. "But don't ye worry! I'll come back once we're done kicking the enemy's asses." He walked to you and sat down, putting his huge hands on your face and playing with your cheeks. You couldn't help but giggle while he held you softly in his touch. You opened your mouth to say something, but Tavish already planted his lips against yours, shutting you up completely.

The feeling of his rough lips suddenly making contact with your soft ones caught you in surprise, but your shoulders quickly slacked off and you melted into the dancing process. He was gentle in kissing you, tilting his head to give you more space to move around. Your hands brought themselves up and snaked around his neck, keeping him close to you. He pulled away for a breath of air, his hands still on your face, holding them ever so tenderly. He smiled when he saw the blush that had taken form on your cheeks.

"Yer breath smells terrible."

Your eyes widened. "Wh- TAVISH!!" You hit his chest jokingly and kicked him away from you, while he laughed contagiously.

He really had to ruin the mood.

"Anyway, I'll be going. Make sure to brush yer teeth!" He said teasingly with a cocky grin on his face. You turned your gaze away, grumpily crossing your arms, which he laughed at. He thought you were adorable. "I love ye!" He said one last time before closing the door.

"...I love you too." You responded, slightly delayed. A sad sigh came out of your lips, now you were all alone again. You always felt lonely and bored whenever your Scottish boyfriend goes away for work. You basically had nothing to do in the house except to watch TV and eat. But those were the boring stuff! It's always exciting with Tavish.

You shook away the thoughts. You didn't want to be sad for the whole day. Standing up from the bed, you made your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth just like he reminded you to do. Right now, it was a new day to start off with.

For the next several hours, you decided to go out and buy a few groceries. You fumbled on your house keys as the heavy grocery bags swayed off from your arms. Once you've inserted the right key, you immediately dropped the bags on the table and walked upstairs, entering the bathroom. You needed to take a quick shower after being covered in sweat!

It only took you a few minutes before coming out of the bathroom with a towel around your body, the water was freezing cold and you didn't want to stay any longer. "Jeez, what a day." You mumbled to yourself as you approached the cabinet that contained your clothes, as well as your lover's. You stared at his clothes for a little bit. You snickered at the size difference, his shirts were huge compared to yours. You decided to wear one of his shirts, so you can show it off to him and capture his attention. They looked baggy on you, but Tavish would always think you're cute in them.

As you wore your shorts, you heard the sound of the front door closing. He must be back already! The thought excited you and you quickly ran downstairs. Maybe today wasn't a bad day, after all.

Arriving in the living room, you didn't expect to see Tavish rummaging through the fridge.

You smiled at the sight. "You're early." You crossed your arms and leaned against the railing of the stairs, Tavish jumped at the sound of your voice, hitting his head on one of the shelves. You half-heartedly laughed at his silly action.

He swiftly turned around with a terrified expression, but when he saw you, it dissolved to a more relieved one. "Oh, (Y/n), it's just ye, lass." He said with a relieved tone as he closed the fridge door, a light slamming sound barely heard when it made contact with the huge appliance. He stretched out his arms upwards as he moaned a sleepy grunt. Once his arms dropped at his sides, his body swayed even though he's merely staying at one spot. "Did ye need somethin'?" He asked with a clearly drunk tone.

You couldn't bring yourself to bring up the topic, but you definitely felt your cheeks perking up, a smile making its appearance on your face. Shaking your head, you walked towards the counter that separated you and Tavish. You brought your upper body to the height of the counter, you then placed your arms on it as you kept your focus on your lover. "No, but what I do need to know is why you smell like alcohol." As you finished your sentence, you narrowed down your eyes to give him a suspicious look. He looked at you silently for a quick moment before bringing his hand up and putting up a finger. He seemed ready to say something as his mouth was open.

What you weren't expecting was that he would suddenly boop your nose. You were taken aback at the unanticipated action, he chuckled loudly at your astonished face. He used that same finger he used to boop you, to point it at you mockingly. "Ye think I'm drunk, don't ye?" The smug grin that always ticked you off had worn itself on his face again, and when you caught sight of it, a huff of frustration escaped your lips. "Well, that's how you always come back from work." You quickly shrugged your shoulders as you spoke.

Tavish shook his head, his shaking stopped as he looked to another direction. "Well, yea, I am drunk." In contrast to what he said, you rolled your eyes, but a small smile was still present on your facial features. "But not that kind'a drunk." His statement confused you. You tilted your head and knitted your eyebrows together, showing how confused you were at that moment. "What do you mean?" You asked simply, but Tavish didn't bother to answer at all. He merely neared towards you and knelt down to your height, and while you were too focused on him, he found the opportunity to gently grab your chin. His face got really close to yours, to the point you can feel each other's breaths.

You both had a staring contest before the moment broke. You would always get so invested in his stare, not that you do it intentionally, but you just can't help but feel helpless whenever you set your eyes on this man. Despite the fact that he lost his other eye, his chocolate-colored eye always struck you with countless spears and made you feel like you're floating in heaven.

He smirked when you were starting to stare off into space. He used this chance to whisper in your ear and say,

"I'm drunk from yer luv."

Once you snapped out of your senses, you suddenly felt the urge to laugh out loud. You moved away from him and gave him a bewildered look, he looked back at you with a wide grin. You stood up from your position and ran your hand through the side of your face. Scoffing a hearty laugh, you whined, "Oh my god, Tavish, you are sooo— lame!" At the same time, he was cackling loudly. You could have sworn you saw him slap his knee for a second.

"Haha! I know, right!" He forced himself to downgrade his laughter into soft chuckles. He wiped a tear away from his eye, probably from laughing too hard at his own joke. "That's why I'm so glorious, ain't I?" He did a terrible curtsy bow, which nearly made him stumble. You scrunched up your face and shook your head in disapproval. "Ew, corny." You jokingly said.

You heard an audible gasp coming from him. He brought his hand to his chest and looked at you in disbelief, acting like he was deeply hurt from your words. His dramatic reaction made you snicker. "That hurts, lass."

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" This time, it was your turn to mock him. You placed your hands on your hips and smiled teasingly at him. You awaited for his response while he tapped his chin in thought. Something must have popped in his mind when his face went from thoughtful to shocked and until a wide grin plastered itself there again. He brought his gaze to you and you tensed up at your spot. You immediately regretted the things you've said.

He was gonna launch at you.

"Tavish- Don't even- WAH!"

Before you knew it, Tavish threw himself over the counter. All you could do was yelp in surprise and brace yourself for any impact. It happened so quick that you didn't even feel his arms around you until you opened your eyes. That wide grin was still present on his face, now that you have the chance to take a closer look at him, he looked genuinely happy. "Heh! Gotcha!" He wiggled you around while he kept his grip on you.

You giggled to the movement, placing your hands on his chest after he stopped. Sharing another wholesome moment like that, you couldn't stay annoyed with him. You always appreciated the times when he would just make you laugh even with the most annoying ways possible. Still, you're grateful for being able to be with this guy.

He's your ideal man, after all.

You sighed lovingly, your thumb fondling with the belt that he's still wearing. "I'm just glad that you still come home even if you're tired." You murmured, although it was loud enough for him to hear. He smiled back at you, his hands making their way to hold your face — just like he did earlier this morning. His touch felt so gentle and soft, you were practically falling against his body.

He held your face to make you look at him. "I do it for ye, lass." He simply said. Your heart once again pumped when you heard those words. You felt yourself leaning into him, wanting to seal those lips of his with yours. He noticed this stance from you, mirroring your actions as he started to lean to you as well.

Not until you pushed him away with your hand. "Actually, maybe you should go shower first."

He groaned. "Augh, come onn..!" You giggled and brought him upstairs to share a shower with him. You wouldn't want to waste your relationship for something so cliché, why not spice it up a little?

[ethan-bears]

Home for Christmas (Nolan Patrick x Reader)

You've resigned yourself to spending this Christmas alone. But Nolan has other plans.

Author's note: I started writing this out as a thought to send to @lindylovegang for her soft thought night tonight but I realized it needed to be a small book whole fic instead, so I decided to do this instead of editing my final paper. This is also not edited. I might edit it later. Who knows.

Warnings: light swearing, holidays, slight angst but it gets fluffy real quick, it's my first fic so it's probably not great, I'm on mobile and I can't figure out "keep reading" and I'm very sorry

Word count: absolutely no idea but good luck fam

gif credit to: bretthowden

*****

This was not how you wanted to spend your first Christmas in Philadelphia. Ideally, you wouldn't even be in Philly at all right now. You should be on a plane back home to your family and friends and the warm, familiar streets of your hometown. You should be waking up tomorrow morning in your grandma's house with the smell of warm bread surrounding you like a hug.

But no. You were trapped.

The blizzard had started to roll in earlier this morning, and you thought to yourself that it wouldn't be that bad, right? It was just some flurries. They wouldn't ground any flights, right?

Oh how wrong you wound up being.

After three hours of waiting for news in the airport terminal, followed by another hour and a half desperately trying to reschedule your flight to a time that would still work and getting nothing out of every airline representative in the building, you somehow managed to get an Uber driver crazy enough to come get you in the ocean of snow. Fighting back tears, you tried to console yourself in the backseat. At least your apartment would be warm. And you had a little tree, so it would still feel like Christmas. You'd make some soup and Skype your family, and while it wouldn't be the same as being with them, it would be better than nothing!

"Reckless optimist," you sighed as you flipped the light switch to your apartment only to be met with continued darkness. Alone in a dark, cold, apartment on Christmas Eve, snowed in with nowhere to go in a city that came nowhere close to feeling like home. Merry Christmas. Slumping against the door, you felt your hot tears break free and cascade down your face. You decided to let all the stress and frustration that had been building all day take over your body, sobbing harder than you could ever remember. Each new wave shook your body, sending you to the floor. You didn't care. It couldn't get worse, so why not act like it?

During a pause in the festivities you decided to check your phone to see if you had any messages from your dad, only to find a text you definitely didn't expect from someone who was definitely not your father.

Sir Nolan the Rosy-Faced: hey, just checking in, i know you're probably mid flight rn but just wanted to make sure you land safely when you do. Crazy storm. Text me?

Sniffing, you paused to process the message. Nolan wanted to make sure you were safe? It shouldn't really have surprised you, but the fact that he was concerned enough to text you while he thought you were still midair was...touching.

You fired a short text back explaining that the flight wasn't happening, thinking he'd respond with a simple "okay" or an "oh, sorry to hear that :(". But the next text you got (mere seconds later) surprised you again.

Sir Nolan: oh my god that sucks! Wait.....does that mean you're home alone tonight?

Me: Yeah, and the power's out, so it's suuuper cold, but idk it's fine, I'll just layer up and go to bed early I guess

Sir Nolan: are you okay?

That one hit you like a truck. No, you thought, I'm really, really not.

Me: Yeah, I'll be fine

Sir Nolan: are you sure? Cause I can come over if you want.

Any other night, you would be losing your mind at an offer like that. Ever since you had met Nolan, you'd had the biggest crush on him. All other crushes seemed like weak sauce compared to how you felt about him. But you'd cried all your energy out. The best response your heart could muster was a meek, "Sure, but don't worry if the snow's just too much."

You were met with a resounding, "Already on my way."

You decided that if you were going to be having company you should at least get up off the floor. You shuffled your way into your bedroom, habitually flicking the light switch before you remembered it was pointless. You fumbled in the dark to your desk drawer, trying to find your flashlight, and once you found it you turned it on and started changing into your warmest pajamas. Now that you weren't just a puddle of self-pity, you started to think about Nolan's sudden inviting-over of himself. You first met him during training camp when your work friend brought you along to meet up with Travis, her boyfriend. She figured that since you were new to the city and also a huge hockey fan that it couldn't hurt to introduce you to some guys on the team and help you make some friends. You weren't sure what to make of Nolan at first. He seemed so quiet and awkward that you thought your own quietness and awkwardness would make conversation impossible with such a knockout of a man. You wound up being horribly wrong, once again, but that time it was in a good way. Neither of you were really the super-outgoing party type, so whenever one or both of you started getting exhausted with the atmosphere you'd usually drift off into your own conversation in a quieter part of the room. As a result, he became a good friend incredibly fast. It seemed there was nothing you couldn't talk about with him, even though you still got nervous about certain things. Like your personal feelings for him. But that had never come up before, so you were safe. For now.

You knew he knew all about how hard the transition to Philly has been for you. How homesick you get, how you can't help but wonder if you made a mistake taking the job offer that brought you here (even though it was your dream job), and how you felt like it was hard to click with so many new people. Which was probably why he seemed so worried about you being alone tonight. He knew you felt alone most of the time anyway.

An hour and a half had gone by and you were starting to get worried about him. He only lived 20 minutes away, and even with the snow, it shouldn't take him that long unless he was stuck and just too proud to call you. It had given you time to call your mom, which you were grateful for and made you feel a lot better, but you couldn't ignore the knot in your stomach anymore. You were just about to hit "call" when you heard a knock at the door. Or more like a thump at the door.

You practically sprinted over to open it for the man-sized popsicle with his arms full of grocery bags standing on your doorstep. You paused for a second with your mouth hanging open, both amazed by the fact that he actually came over and by...him. The cold made his already pink cheeks bright red, and the snowflakes were sticking to his long eyelashes and the free locks of hair that didn't fit under his beanie. You had never seen anything more beautiful in your life.

"Can...can I come in?" Nolan's teeth chattered, snapping you back to reality.

"Oh, yeah, sorry! God, Nol, you're shivering!" you remark, ushering him through the door. Not that inside was that much warmer, but anything was better than being out there.

"It's cold," he laughs.

"Wow, AND he's meteorologist!" you quip back. "What can Nolan Patrick not do?"

Shaking his head, he made a beeline for your kitchen, looking for a place to set his bags down.

"Took me forever to find a place that was still open tonight," he muttered, pulling what looked in the dark like to-go boxes out of one of the bags. You shined your flashlight up to the ceiling to make it light the whole room as Nolan continued to pull items from his three bags. You just stood there, still dumbfounded by him.

"Pat... what's all this?" you manage to squeak out.

"This," he said, pointing to the to-go tubs, "is soup. I'm not completely sure what kind, but I figured soup would be the best thing no matter what. I didn't know if you had any crackers, so I brought some saltines. And some oranges because I knew you'd want something fruity and healthy and oranges are festive. And this," he pulled a thermos out of the second bag, "is hot chocolate. Made it myself." He grinned, sliding it towards you, obviously proud of himself. You could barely contain your own grin, feeling yourself blush. You were proud of him too.

"I saved the best for last," he continued once you took a sip of the cocoa. You frowned.

"What else could you possibly have brought?" you asked, genuinely astonished.

He looked you in the eyes and gave you a smirk. Holy hell. You were glad he probably couldn't see how pink your own cheeks were getting. The things he did to you and he didn't even know.

He carefully pulled a basket out of the last bag, and you could see it was full of a bunch of other things. You couldn't believe it.

"Nolan..." You trailed off, feeling the tears starting to well up again. Inside the basket were a bunch of little gifts with a note that read "For: y/n, From: Us". It had some of your favorite candies, one of those cheesy home-state-scented candles, a scarf with your home team's name and logo on it, and a tin of your favorite tea from a tiny local tea shop in your home town. You tried your best to fight the tears, but you weren't strong enough, rendered useless from your earlier fit.

"Nol-" You couldn't even finish your question before your own sob choked you. You set your thermos and flashlight down to bury your face in your hands.

"Hey, hey," Nolan whispered, pulling you into a hug. You wasted no time in hugging him back, squeezing him as you sobbed into his chest. "Shhhh, it's okay," he muttered to the top of your head. He slowly ran a hand up and down your back, rocking you back and forth. It only made you more emotional. He had never hugged you before, and you hadn't been hugged like this in what felt like years. You just wanted to stay there in his arms forever and ignore the world around you.

"It was a team effort," he continued. "Some of us thought you could use some things that remind you of home."

"Who...who found the tea?" you said into his chest, muffled by his sweater.

"What?" He smiled, pulling out of the hug a bit to let you speak up.

You wiped your face and took a breath. "Who found the tea?"

He pulled the rest of the way out of the hug, much to your disappointment. He leaned his head down, staring at the floor.

"That was me," he mumbled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "I remembered you mentioning it, and it was hard to work out, but they agreed to send me some." Somehow, his voice kept getting lower and lower.

You could hardly believe your ears. He remembered that? You swore you had only mentioned it once in passing after you got a really disappointing chai from a coffee place down the street. You had no idea he had been paying attention. And he went to all the trouble of getting a store with a locals-only business model to ship a product long-distance. You started to wonder if.... No, you thought, don't get your hopes up again tonight.

You stared at him for another moment, trying to soak in the situation. He seemed surprised when you went back in for another hug.

"Thank you so much!" you whisper, knowing that if you said it any louder you'd start crying again. You could feel him relax into the hug and gave him a little squeeze before you ended it.

"Soup time?"

"Soup time." Nolan nodded, practically beaming.

You sat on the couch, eating as carefully as you could in the dark, though your eyes were getting pretty adjusted. From then on, it was conversation as usual. It came so naturally with him that even when you weren't saying anything, you were still happy. You exchanged stories about your favorite Christmases, what you thought the best cookies are, and weird things your families do during the holidays for hours, barely even noticing the time or the cold.  At some point Nolan had pulled the blankets off the back of the couch and tossed them over both your laps. You didn't notice that you'd been getting closer and closer to him with every story until you laughed so hard you fell on his shoulder.

"Stop laughing!" He pouted, audibly trying to stifle his own laugh. "I almost got hypothermia. I could've died!"

"I can't...I can't!" you breathe between laughs. "You fell through the ice...but just one leg?!"

"Yeah, and I was stuck there on my side almost doing the splits between the ice and the water and my sister just stood there laughing. Just like you!" He nudged you, pretending to be annoyed. "But eventually she pulled me out and carried me back home. Couldn't move my leg for hours, it was just sticking straight out like..." He stuck his leg in the air, demonstrating, and only making you laugh harder. You could hardly breathe. You knew it probably felt funnier because of how exhausted you were, but you didn't care. Nolan had put a smile back on your face and back in your heart.

"Hey, Nolan?"

"Yeah?"

You swallowed. "I just... I'm not complaining that you're here, obviously, but... weren't you planning on spending tonight with Kevin and his family?"

"I was, but they've got each other, and someone else who's super special to me was sad and alone, which made me really sad to think about. You deserve to be happy and I wanted to help. Easiest decision I've ever made."

You really did not have it in you for another cry, so you settled for teasing him instead.

"That's really cheesy of you, softie."

"Take it while you can," he laughed.

"I know," you smiled.

Your eyes were starting to feel heavy and you let out a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Damn," Nolan remarked. You grunted in response, earning another laugh from him. "Wanna lay down?"

You nodded, leaning into his shoulder.

"You're warm," you sleepily drawl. You wanted to lay down, but you didn't want to get up to go to your bed. You wanted more snuggles, and right now you didn't care if he read into it or not.

He seemed to get the message, moving to lay down and taking you with him. He wrapped his arms around you after making sure the blankets covered you both as much as possible. You smiled contentedly, settling into your position and closing your eyes. You barely had time to contemplate how touchy he was being tonight compared to his normal reservations about hugs and touching before you were completely gone.

*****

Nolan woke up first the next morning. He was careful to move as little as possible to avoid waking you up. You looked so peaceful, curled up with your head on his chest. He felt his heart swell as you shifted to wrap your arms around his torso and fell back asleep within seconds. He smiled down at you, noticing how beautiful you were, even with your messy bedhead and your cheek squished against his chest. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you.

The power had come back on at some point during the night, so it was no longer freezing in the apartment, and the lights on your tiny tree had come on as well. He glanced back over to the kitchen to the basket on the counter. It had been embarrassing enough to admit to being the one who hunted down the tea like a police dog, so he left out the part about the whole gift basket being his idea in the first place. He would've bought you everything himself, but he wanted you to know that you had other friends, too, and that they wanted to show you that they were thinking of you. The scarf was Carter's idea, the candy TK's. Claude had suggested the candle, and being the local expert on how to be good to the woman he loved, Nolan took the advice and bought the candle as well. It did make him strangely jealous of your hometown in a way he couldn't quite explain. He was worried that you would be looking for any excuse to move back home, which he really didn't want. If it made you happy, then of course he'd support you, but he'd never felt for anyone the way he felt about you. The way you laugh, how passionate you get when you talk about something you care about, whether that's a person, a subject, a place, or what the best pizza topping is. He loved everything down to the way you word your sentences. He loved how much you loved.

He was awoken from his thoughts by you stirring and opening your eyes to look at him.

"Merry Christmas," you mumbled.

"Merry Christmas," he mumbled back.

You laid your head back down, enjoying the comforting rise and fall of his chest.

"You hungry? I can try and make you some breakfast. Emphasis on try," Nolan offered.

You laughed at the thought. "That'd be nice. But I don't wanna get up."

"Me neither," he sighed, tracing his thumb along your arm. He was not ready for when you suddenly shot off the couch, eyes manic and wide.

"Oh my god!" you shouted. "I didn't get you anything for Christmas! And you did all that last night!" You waved your hand at the kitchen. Nolan sat up, confused and cold, missing the weight of you on him.

"It's okay, y/n! I wasn't expecting anything."

"No, okay, I'm making you breakfast, and it's gonna be the best damn breakfast I've ever made. Lay back down," you insisted, marching off to the kitchen, wincing at the still-cold floor.

As nice as it sounded to stay under the warm blankets, Nolan didn't want to just sit there doing nothing. Suddenly he had an idea, even though it was a risky one. He decided it was a risk he needed to take eventually.

"Get out!" you playfully threatened, brandishing a spatula at him as he stepped into the kitchen. He put his hands up in mock surrender.

"I won't touch!"

"Good," you smirk, turning back to your pan.

Nolan shuffled around nervously, working up the courage to say what he wanted to. He swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I, uh...I have an idea for what you can give me. If you, uh, still want to give me something. Besides breakfast, I mean." Smooth, Patrick, he thought.

"What's that?" You met his gaze, making his stomach flip. The things you do to him and you have no idea.

"Maybe we can go out sometime? Like, just us. On purpose. To dinner or something?"

You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, making Nolan immediately second-guess himself. He bashfully broke your eye contact, focusing on the floor again. He felt the blush on his cheeks worsening.

"Are you... serious?" you ask, voice full of wonder.

"Of course I am!" he mumbled insistently. "Wouldn't ask if I wasn't."

You almost knocked him over with the force of your hug, a truly impressive feat.

"Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!!!" you laughed, not even bothering to play it cool. Nolan smiled so much it started to hurt, but he didn't care. He felt like he could take off and fly, he was so relieved. The weight of the world was replaced by the weight of you clinging to his shoulders. And he couldn't imagine a better way to spend his Christmas. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, Christmas would be like this forever from now on.

*****

You relaxed into Nolan's arms as he followed you back to the stove, hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. Suddenly, you felt something more than the giddy high of getting asked out by your crush. You felt a sort of peace you hadn't felt since before you moved.

You were home for Christmas.

[orange-waterfalls]

The Deal Part 2

Illinois x gender neutral!reader

@lawfluff-evil ty for the prompt(again)

A/N: asfsggsgdg I'm so happy people liked the first part! I was so worried! Rated T for cursing. My fics keep getting longer lol. A bit OOC at the end but.

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1

Mark drives you and Illinois to a nearby town, where you hear about treasures in a cave at the bottom of a mountain. You're kind of confused about why there are so many caves with treasure in them, but Illinois seems fine, so you don't worry about it. While in the town, a little girl hands you a golden necklace.

"Una ofrenda*!" She says excitedly. You ruffle her hair and thank her. She smiles and runs off to her mother. Illinois watches you the whole time, but when you turn to look at him, he looks away. Illinois gathers his adventure things, you gather your will to live, and you prepare to head off. Mark stops you.

"Listen… I don't want you to die… but if you do…" he starts. You set a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Mark, you're still in my will," you tease. He chuckles.

"Yeah, yeah…" he hugs you tightly. "Be careful." You pull away and snap your fingers, pointing fingers guns at him.

"Not likely," he laughs and you wave at each other. You run up to Illinois. You both enter the cave.

As you walk, you notice Illinois glances at you throughout. You don't point it out, though. He takes a couple longer strides and walks in front of you. He turns to you and walks backwards.

"So… that Mark fella…" he starts. "He's, uh… bold…" You laugh.

"My best friend, as you know. Has no impulse control. I was a bit worried you'd be a violent type." You explain.

"Nah, I ain't violent. Unless... someone'd want me to be." He winks, and you hear a whip-crack. You begin to wonder if that's just a thing that happens or you're losing your mind. You roll your eyes.

"No thanks, I'm good." You sigh. He smirks and turns around.

"Y'know, I'm surprised. Usually my partners only stay for one adventure but… you came looking for me." He chuckles. "That's some determination you got there."

"Eh, I felt like you'd want the diamond. No big deal." You shrug. He raises an eyebrow.

"And why exactly didn't you just keep it?" He asks.

"It… felt like the right thing to do," you explain hesitantly. "I happen to be an advocate for justice and fairness." He laughs.

"Oh, alright then." He says teasingly. You flush.

You arrive at a point and he puts a hand in front of you, blocking you from walking. You look at him, confused. He jerks his head towards the ground. You look down and see sand.

"Quicksand..." You sigh. "Why is it always quicksand?"

"Don't get scared, now," he smiles. He takes out a whip and it wraps around a vine near the top of the cave he swings over the sand. He takes his whip down. "Now I think I might be able to-" you drop next to him. He stares at you before blinking. He opens his mouth but no words come out at first. Eventually, they do. "How did…?"

"Grapple," you hold up your grappling hook. "I did rob a museum yesterday." He nods and wraps his whip on his belt.

"Impressive, I'll give you that." He looks back at the vine and smirks. "How're we gonna get back, though?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"What do you-" you cut yourself off as you see the vine, broken. You look down at the grappling hook and groan. Illinois chuckles and pats your shoulder.

"Rookie mistake, it's alright," he says.

"But how are we gonna get back?" You repeat his question. He shrugs.

"I don't know. But it'll be alright. It always is," he winks again with that whip sound and you wonder if you should ask him about it. You decide not to, in case you sound like a crazy person.

You continue to walk, making small conversation along the way. He continues to flirt with you, making you blush. You're starting to get sick of it. You contemplate flirting back, but you only have cheesy pick up lines, and your sure he doesn't want to hear those. You end up at a floor of pressure plates with a door on the other side. Each of the plates has a symbol on them, and there's a plaque on the ground that most likely tells you what the pattern is supposed to be. That would be useful, if either of you could read the scratched up and weathered words.

"This is ridiculous," you growl. "What are we supposed to do?" Illinois looks across the floor for a second before taking a step.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" You yell. He doesn't answer and continues taking random steps across the floor, activating many booby traps-none of which even scratch him-before landing in front of the door. He turns back towards you.

"Well? What're you waiting for?" You gape at him before inhaling deeply and taking a step. A large axe swings in front of your face, barely missing your nose. You step back.

"No. No! It's not worth it. I won't." You turn around and start to walk back to the entrance. Illinois sighs.

"Yeah, I understand. You're just too scared." You stop dead in your tracks. Of course you were scared. Was he implying that facing certain death on a daily basis didn't scare him? Oh, no, no, no, no. You were not giving up that easy, if that was the case. You spin back around. He's looking at you with a smug grin. You narrow your eyes and step back on a plate, the same as before. The axe swings again. This time you continue to step, one foot in front of the other, in a straight line to the door. Your eyes are closed and your walk is casual. You can hear multiple traps being activated as you step. Eventually, you're stopped by something solid.

The door you conclude in your head. But when you open your eyes and look, you see Illinois, right there in front of you.

"Hey there…" He raised and eyebrow. You jump back and clear your throat, blushing.

"S-Sorry about that…" you stutter. He turns towards the door, and you stand next to him.

"Now, how do you suggest we go about opening this?" He asks. You look at the top of the door. There are words, but again, you can't read them because of how worn and scratched they are. You sigh, frustrated. Illinois sets a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm sure the answer will come if we calm down for a moment." He consoles. You huff and plop to the ground. You turn your back to the door and lean on it. Illinois sits next to you. You sit in silence for a couple minutes before you start talking. Nothing too important, just basic small talk. You two continue like that until you start going deeper in your conversation. You start to talk about friends and family, which leads to those you've loved and lost. You talk about friends who've left and family who've died. He talks about previous partners.

"Most of them left. Some of them I still talk to occasionally. I lost a few of them during adventures, though." He knits his eyebrows and looks down. "I always think about them when I meet someone new." You set your hand on his. He looks up at you, surprised. You smile warmly, and he does the same. You stay like that for a moment before he retracts his hand and stands up.

"Well! This has been fun but we should head back." He starts to walk back across the floor, narrowly avoiding traps. You clumsily stand up.

"Wait, what about the door?!" You yell. He lands on the other side and looks back at you.

"We can't open it, there's no problem. We can head back." He shrugs. You squint at him.

"That's… not very 'adventurey' of you…" you say accusingly. He sets his hands on his belt.

"Look, we've been here for a while, we can't think of anything let's just go." Your eyes widen.

"You're scared." You conclude. He scoffs.

"What-"

"You're scared that something's gonna happen to me, so you wanna leave!" You yell. "I'm not stupid! I can take care of myself!" He clenches his fists.

"Fine! Do whatever! I'm fine by myself!" He says angrily. He walks off and you turn back towards the door. You look around for any sign of anything you're supposed to do. You see a small dent in the wall next to the door. You walk over to it and trace the dent.

"Wait…" you squint. You fumble around in your pocket for a moment before taking out the necklace from the little girl. You put it in the dent and the door starts to glow and slide open. Illinois, who was walking much slower than usual, hears the door opening and spins around, running back to where you are. He swings around the corner. You hear him and look back.

"Oh," he says, "maybe you are smart." You smile at each other. He steps across the floor, but the traps don't activate anymore. You grab the necklace and you both walk through the door. You end up in a giant room with a bag in the center.

"Oh, this seems familiar…" you mumble. He chuckles.

"I've got this one," he takes a bag that looks exactly like the one in the room out of his pocket.

"How did you…" you start. He looks back and you, confused. You hold your hands up. "Nevermind." He turns back and kneels in front of the bag. He slowly takes the bags and swaps them. You both stay still for a moment before sighing.

"Well, that went better than expected," Illinois laughs. You smile and look over at the bag, noticing it sink into the floor.

"Um… Illinois?" You say hesitantly. He tilts his head at you before looking back at the bag.

"Oh no," you both look up and see a giant boulder rolling towards you both. Illinois grabs your hand and pulls you out the door. You both run through the cave, the boulder tailing behind.

"What is it with you and boulders?!" You yell.

"An adventurer thing, I guess." Illinois shrugs. You roll your eyes. You both end up at the quicksand again. You start to hyperventilate.

"Illinois, what do we do?!" You ask, panicked.

"Pray," He takes a deep breath and just runs faster. You squeeze your eyes shut and feel something sticky at your feet before continuing to run. You open your eyes and see that you both have lost your footwear.

"Huh." You laugh, "That went better than I had expected," Illinois smirks. You both run until you end up at the entrance of the cave, jumping behind a nearby rock as the boulder stops at the entrance. You both sit there panting for a moment.

"Well… that was… fun," Illinois says. You laugh in disbelief.

"Illinois, you seem like a cool guy, but I don't think my heart can take this," you groan. He grins.

"Yeah… I thought so." He sighs. His grin falls slightly. You tap your leg.

"But…" you start. He looks at you, raising his eyebrows. "You could always come visit if you're ever in town for an adventure," you suggest. He smiles.

"Yeah. I'd like that." You smile widely and write your address on his hand with a marker before grabbing his wrist and dragging him away. "C'mon, Mark will wanna see what's in the bag!" You two walk to the car, where Mark is cleaning it. He looks at you two and smiles. You let go of Illinois' hand as you hug Mark.

"Oh, thank God," He sighs, "I thought I was gonna have to tell your parents you died because of an off-brand Indiana Jones," "Excuse me?" Illinois narrows his eyes. Mark opens his mouth to say something, but you interrupt him.

"HEY I found treasure, let's see what it is!" You take the bag from Illinois and open it. All three of you look inside to see black rocks.

"Really? Again?" Illinois growls. He starts to walk away but you grab his shoulder.

"Remember what happened last time, Illinois," you say. He raises an eyebrow. You dump the contents of the bag onto the ground to find colorful jewels under the rocks. Illinois smiles.

"Well, would you look at that!" Mark laughs.

"So, since you figured out how to open the door, you get half the treasure plus the diamond." He sighs. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed, but, a deal's a deal." He splits the number of jewels in half, and puts his half back into the bag and into his pocket. "Was nice to meet you both." He salutes and starts to leave. You grab his wrist and he looks back at you.

"You'll… you'll actually visit, right?" You ask hopefully.

"Of course. I don't meet someone like you every day, y'know." he winks. You flush and smile.

"Alright. Well, Mr. Adventure, I really like you," you say confidently. He blinks. You take that as a cue to continue. "So…" you walk towards him, still holding his wrist. "Are you gonna do something about that, or will I have to?" His cheeks are dusted pink as he sputters. You smile and kiss him gently on the cheek. He freezes as his face turns a darker shade of pink. He clears his throat.

"W-Well uh… I better, uh… get… going…" He walks backwards and almost trips over a rock, but stands back up and walks away. You and Mark laugh as you gather your jewels and get into the car. You both sigh.

"Ready to go home?" He asks.

"Absolutely," You laugh. He starts to drive and you look out the window, excited for the next time Illinois visits.

"So…" Mark starts, "Did you... hear the whip-crack sound effect when he winked?"

"THANK GOD you hear it too."

---

*An offering!

I got self conscious from rereading so I just queued it in 1st period lol

[kookix]

All works belong to me - © all rights reserved to @kookix. Please respect this and do not repost or translate any of my work. Thank you :)

Planning the perfect proposal was a dumb idea.

Or when you ruin his proposal.

Paring - Yoongi x reader

Genre - Extreme fluff

Warnings - Minor swearing

Word count - 1.2k

A/n - Anything underlined you can click on :)

Yoongi never felt the need to flash his relationship in other people's faces. He was quite content with it being his, he didn't need validation or a pat on the back from those who thought he was a quote on quote lucky guy. He just needed you, that being said at that moment you were approximately five thousand miles away from him - no more than a week ago you'd up and left to go visit your parents. And he'd be lying if he said that the video calls and text messages were enough for him. They weren't the same as having you right there with him, curled up in his arms with one of his loose fitted t-shirts hanging off your frame as he stared at you in adoration. It really wasn't the same…

Still, there was no way that he's was going call you and demand you come home - you deserved this alone time with your family. You hadn't seen them in person in nearly a year and there's no way Yoongi was going to take that away from you. He'd just have to wait, for now, he'd just suffer through a couple more yearning video calls and unsatisfying text messages.

One or two days had gone by since Yoongi had last - properly - spoken to you. He had been trying not to count them, especially since the days had been moving agonizingly slowly. Obviously, Yoongi's physical ability to function without you was fine, he didn't need you to breath, or exist per se...But, he did need you for one particular reason.

His proposal.

For months he'd had it all planned, right down to the tiniest detail, everything was perfect. Well...Was being the keyword here - his plan had gone up in flames the moment you had informed him of your surprise visit home. And unlike his plan, yours was a complete impulse, you hadn't even really thought it through before you left. All he knew was that the day you had come home and bought your plane ticket, you had this flare and determination rooted in your gaze. You didn't explain where it had come from and he hadn't asked. He'd just pulled on a tight smile as he listened to you practically burst with warmth as you spoke about seeing your little brother, mum and dad again 'for the first time in forever'.

It was unfortunate really. Even at this time, he was twiddling the engagement ring between his fingers; thinking about how he would propose when you got back. And he's definitely sure he doesn't have enough money to reschedule the non-refundable proposal he originally had planned. So the question was what would he do now?

"Ah, I don't know," he sighed, clearly frustrated. He took one more quick look at the ring placed between his fingers before he set it back in its velvet box. "How do I even find a better way to ask (y/n) to be my 'matrimonial' nap buddy?" he mumbled lowly to himself. "Nothing's going to beat the night in the glass dome," he flops back defeatedly on his sofa, covering his face as he does.

Buzz!

A small pout takes over his face - in contrast to its previous grimace - before he sits back up to glance at his buzzing phone. Oh, it was you, he noted once he picked it up, what perfect timing.

It didn't take more than two rings before you answered, the camera fumbled around in your grasp as - Yoongi could only assume - you were trying to get comfortable in a bean bag chair. "Yoonz, I've missed your face so much." You finally said once you were settled.

"Missed yours too, sweetheart, " he let out, huskily. Showing off one of his gummy smiles, only a little lazier than usual. "How's your visit?"

"It's good...," you hesitated. "Don't get me wrong I'm so happy to see my family and be back here, but…"

”But?"

"I don't know, I'm just not enjoying it as much without you." You confess, letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip. Oh, Yoongi really didn't expect that. "It's just I can't help but keep turning around to tell you something but, then I realise you're not here." You sigh, tucking some hair behind your ear. "I guess, I started to realize that I hate when I can't share things with you, I-I don't want life to be like that Yoongi." You paused. "I want to be able to share all my greatest moments with you, forever...so, Yoongi will-"

Wait- what was the going on here?! Were you proposing...?! Well, possibly you could be about to say something completely different but, the feeling Yoongi was getting in the pit if his stomach was telling him differently. His mind was reeling, more than one thing alerting it at a once. But, he's wasn't sure which one to focus on first; the deep swell in his chest or the fact that you might - potentially - be proposing to him!

"Will you-" Oh God you're stealing his proposal, why is he even surprised. "Marry me...?"

There's a long drawn out pause and Yoongi can see you, practically holding your breath as you wait patiently for him to answer. And he can also see your shoulders drop slightly when he doesn't immediately let out a giant 'yes!'. "Never mind, it's stupid-"

"No, it isn't," he stops you - and he knows if you were with him right now he would clasp your hand with so much loving intent you'd freaking melt. "Yes, I'll marry you, you idiot, I love you.' He beamed softly. " Oh, sweetheart no- don't cry," he tried to soothe you as your lip trembled and your eyes began to water.

Taking a few seconds you blinked excessively in an attempt to stop any tears."I-I'm sorry, I thought you were going to say no," you half-laughed through your teary state.

"I would never," he promised. "Even though you ruined my first proposal and stole my second one," Yoongi smirked, letting a wolfish grin play across his face. "Yep," he continued as your watery eyes started back at him in shock. "I had rented a glass dome for the night, with your favourite fake flowers, because I know you're allergic to the real ones, it was freaking beautiful!. Ah, I had so much planned." He shook his head in mock sorrow.

"Yoongi- I- fuck...I promise I'm going to make it up to you." You say, opening and closing your mouth a few more times. "I- gosh- I can't believe- wow-"

"Being my wife will be enough, " he cut you off. "plus I hadn't come up with a second proposal idea yet so you kind of...did me a favour, " Yoongi chuckled.

The words seemed so nonchalant coming from his mouth but, hearing him call you his wife that certainly hit you differently. "Oh God, I'm booking a flight home right now, I'll see you in 11 hours my husband to be!" You don't even wait for him to say goodbye before you're ending the call.

"See you in 11 hours, sweetheart," he whispers contentedly at the now blank screen of his phone.

A/n - Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed. Even though this was written by a noob. 🤧💜

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Forty-Six

Table of Content or Part Forty-Five

Wattpad

Words: 3K

Warning(s): Explicit language, sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of abuse

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"You bailed! You bailed on rehab, you bailed on sobriety and you bailed on me!" I throw at Nikki.

My shaky hand pushes the door of the guest bedroom open, seeing the outline of Nikki's body, in the dark, spread across the mattress on top of the comforter, probably reeling on a high.

I carefully step inside to the bed, my hand trailing over his bare chest.

He looks at me hazily.

"I've never bailed on you, Vivian!" He argues. "I have never--"

"I wanted to do this to fix our relationship, to fix us, and I was counting on you being sober in order to do so successfully and you broke out of rehab and loaded up the same night!" I bark. "How the hell can we fix--"

"--What's the point of therapy if you refuse to follow instructions she gives us?!" He points to Dr. Strun as she watches us go back and forth. "She gave us a rule of thirty days of no communication, no contact, unless it's an emergency, and no intimacy and I thought that would be pretty easy for you because you were down my throat about doing everything we could to make the work but no! We get home and twelve hours later you were like a fucking nymphomaniac all the sudden!"

On day one of therapy, Dr. Strun immediately recognized we needed a reset button, and so our "no contact" rule was set for one month. And if we failed to follow the rule, we started back at day 1. Even if the slip up were to occur on day 27.

I'd be lying if I said I followed the rule better than Nikki did.

"Because I miss you!" I tell him.

He gives out a sigh, knowing why I'm in here, about to blow our third shot at attempting no contact in the past week.

"I'm right here!" He says back, pointing to himself.

"You haven't been here since 1983!" I declare.

I gently kiss him, and his hand runs over my thigh, pulling me onto him.

"Okay, calm down." Dr. Strun says to us calmly, the two of us taking deep breaths. "Vivian, what do you mean by that?" She asks me.

I sit back down on the couch in her small office and sigh, holding back tears.

"He started heroin in 1983." I explain. "And he's slowly lost who he is in the past three years as his addiction has gotten worse."

"How does he act when he's under the influence?"

"Confusing. One minute he's having a good time, laughing and smiling and the next minute he's mean and abrasive to anyone who breaths the wrong way." I explain.

"And what was he like before his addiction?"

I peel my tshirt off, my chest against his as our tongues move together, his fingers in the ends of my hair as my hands fumble to get his pants undone and my panties off before he rolls onto me.

"Frustrating, aggravating, obnoxious, but it was always out of fun, easy to talk to, pretty understanding, nice to be around, caring..." I say a few things and she nods, and her eyes flicker to Nikki.

"How do Vivian's words make you feel, Nikki?"

"Like she's punishing me for being exactly what she married." He tells her.

"How the hell am I punish--"

"--Vivian, if you would please save your words for a minute, I want to hear what Nikki has to say, please." Dr. Strun says and I keep my mouth shut and nod compliantly. "Nikki?" She nods in encouragement and he sighs.

I'm hooking my legs around his hips, pulling him into me with each thrust, my fingers lacing through his thick black hair as his teeth tug at my lip.

"When we first got together she knew I drank and did drugs and she still wanted to be with me. When she agreed to marry me she knew I drank and did drugs. When we got married she knew I drank and did drugs but she suddenly started acting weird and distant because I incorporated smack into my routine and then aired out our issues in front of our friends and now blames our relationship issues on drugs, which is exactly what I've been doing since before we met." He laughs humorlessly. "And I know coke and heroin effect people differently because one's a stimulant and one's a depressant but if she married me knowing I do drugs, she should have considered the possibility I would eventually try heroin."

"Vivian?" Strun allows me to talk now.

My back arches, my body on edge as he utters "fuck" under his breath, his forehead against mine as I tighten around him.

"You told me you were only smoking heroin for your injured shoulder and then you would put it down. The fact you ended up shooting it and hid it from me for eight more months just proves you knew you weren't suppose to be doing it. So there is no 'she married me knowing...' because no, I did not know you would be so stupid as to think you could start something as additive as junk and then think you could put it down without professional help. I was obviously so very wro--"

"If anyone should be whining about not knowing they married a monster, it's me, because I didn't know I was marrying a physically abusive psycho--" He harshly interrupts me and my eyes bug at Dr. Strun raises her brows.

"I'm not abusive!" I argue, standing up.

"--So I'm sorry if I turn to heroin to cope with your outbursts!"

I try to catch my breath as I recover from my orgasm, my body bathing in euphoria as Nikki licks up a little drop of sweat running down my neck, continuing to fuck me.

"I abuse you?! All you know how to do anymore is beat me down, Nikki!"

He moves to pull out of me but I roll us over again, sinking down onto him, and he grabs at my hips and thrusts up into me, warmth spreading through me as he finishes into me.

"Woah, woah, woah!" He stands next, fury in his gaze. "I have never, ever, hit you, Vivian Sixx."

It was true, the only times he would put his hands on me out of anger was to wrap his hand around my throat, or my wrists or my shoulders, and despite his temper, he wouldn't really hurt me, it was just to prove a point, but I was trying to justify my abusive tendencies like he was trying to justify his drug addiction.

"Okay." Strun starts, probably afraid she's going to have to separate us like mad dogs fighting. "Firstly, there are different forms of abuse other than physical." She informs us. "There's sexual, emotional, economic and psychological. Now, Nikki, is Vivian actually physically harming you? Because I am required by the state of California to report domestic abuse to authorities." She tells him. "Which can result in your wife being arrested."

He stares at me, actually weighing his options before scoffing a little.

"No." He shakes his head. "She doesn't physically harm me. She just depletes me."

He sits down and I rub my lips together and wipe the tear that's dared to fall down my face.

"Well, that makes both of us." I mumble and he rolls his jaw.

"Bob warned me I was getting my degree's worth with you two, but I wasn't quiet expecting this." She tells us, tiredly. "I believe you both have incredibly reckless and unhealthy coping skills that have been manifested through your co-dependent relationship. You've both made it very clear early in these sessions that you can't live with or without one another and I personally deem the fact you," she nods towards me. "Solely depend on him and have since you were seventeen years old, and he use to depend on you but now drugs have taken your place and you don't know how to handle that reality so you lash out with abuse. And you," she now looks at Nikki. "Have deep rooted issues far beyond how Vivian treats you that are causing you to feel the need to turn to your addictions. She is not the reason you're on heroin, she's just an obvious choice cover-up that you lie to yourself with to avoid reflection on your life before you even met her."

Nikki and I don't say a word.

"How many days would you say it will take to completely reset things between you two?" She asks me.

"I don't think we need to be separated." I admit. "Just teach us a way to get along with each other, that doesn't require either of us to just bite our tongues and take shit from the other person, and we'll be on our way." I reply and has raises a brow and looks to Nikki.

"How long?" She asks him, he looks at me, then at her, sighing.

"Ninety days, maybe more?" He tells her and my eyes widen.

"Are you kidding me?" I chuckle although it's not funny. "Three months of not even acknowledging each other?"

"I think it's a fair amount of time." Dr. Strun agrees with him.

"Yeah, for him to do whatever the fuck he wants without having to answer to me for it." I shoot back.

"Vivian, the more you cling to him, the more he clings to his escape. I want both of you in a healthy place mentally, physically, and emotionally. That could start with you learning to be independent."

"I'm sorry, are you insinuating I'm as bad for my husband as heroin is?" I snap and she exhales.

"I'm saying, it typically takes ninety days to overcome addiction. You are addicted to your husband. You can't help him get sober if you aren't sober yourself. Ninety days of no contact, except this time we'll take it a step further. If one of you is able to get out of the house and stay with a friend for the duration of the separation, I suggest you do so."

"Nikki, we're not doing this." I shake my head, panic filling me as tears are now streaming down my face. "Nikki, please."

"You wanted to fix this. We're fixing it." Is all he says before I'm leaving her office as fast as I can to throw up as a wave of dread joins in with the panic.

I decided I'd be the one to leave the house, and ended up staying with...

"Mi casa es su casa." Steven tells me, smiling big behind his hat that's holding a can of beer on either side of his head, motioning me into their apartment. "The bedroom is your's, obviously, and Duff's sprayed it down again with sanitizing spray, so you're good." He explains.

"Thanks." I mumble, stepping into the bedroom with the mattress on the floor, sitting my suitcase down.

"So, are you guys separating?" He asks me cautiously.

"I don't know what we're doing." I confess, emotionally drained. "I'm gonna go to bed."

"It's only 6:00, Viv. The party hasn't even started."

"I'm all partied out, Stevie. Maybe I'll feel better in a couple days, I just really wanna sleep right now."

"Oh, okay...lemme know if you need anything." He tells me and I nod before he shuts the door.

I wake up after a few hours, hearing laughter flutter through the door from the living room, and I sit up, stretching, before switching on the lamp on the floor so I can see to get my pill bottle out of my purse.

My purse isn't in here, and I sigh at the idea of having to speak or see anybody else.

I take a breath and convince myself to go get my purse from out of the living room.

Opening the door, I'm met with Tansy, Duff, Mandy, Steven, Slash, Slash's fucking snake, Izzy, and a couple girls I've never seen before and probably won't ever see again.

They all go quiet when they see me. I'm probably one hell of a sight to behold: mascara dripped cheeks, eyes puffy and nearly swollen shut from crying, tangled hair, and a bright red nose with dried snot clinging to it.

"Hey, Vi--"

"--Shut up, Izzy." I cut him short the one time he isn't saying something to purposefully aggravate me. "Where's Axl? I need someone to scream at." I add, digging in my purse and opening up my pill bottle.

"Care to share?" One of the girls next to Slash asks, reaching her hand out.

"It's fucking antidepressant." I tell her and her face falls. "I need to pee." I say next.

"Uh, Axl's in the shower." Steven informs me.

"Great."

I step to the bathroom, opening the door.

"Hurry up, I need to piss." I yell over the sound of the water.

"There's a sink." He replies.

"I'm not using the sink."

"Well then hold it!"

I roll my eyes and snatch the curtain back, seeing a naked Axl in all his glory.

"It's not my fault you sickos completely uprooted your freaking toilet and I refuse to squat over a sink."

He just looks at me, completely unamused and probably considering strangling me.

"You have ten seconds." He steps out of the shower, and I take my pants and panties off, carefully stepping into the shower but standing at the very back and pulling my shirt up to avoid getting it wet before pulling the curtain closed. "One, two, three--"

"You're supposed to count by Mississippis." I snap and he groans.

"One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four miss--what're you doing?" He asks me as I toss my shirt and bra over rod of the shower curtain.

"Getting a shower."

"I thought you said you just had to piss?!"

"I did, and now I'm getting a shower." I tell him, wetting my hair.

"Well then I'm finishing mine!"

"I don't care!" I blare back and the curtain opens and he spitefully climbs back in, seething, and I grin.

"I'm not living with you for three months." He states, pointing his finger in my face.

"Switch." I say, and he shuffles past me so he can stand under the water and I can put shampoo in my hair. "Well then tell Nikki to stop being a little bitch. The only reason he wants to seperate is so he can spend time doing whatever he wants without hearing my nagging."

"So he sends you to us so we can hear it for ninety days?" He snaps.

"Oh, see, I told him I was staying with Vince and Sharise." I explain.

"...And what happens when he finds out you're staying with five guys?"

"He wanted to get rid of me for a few months. He's rid of me." I shrug. "Switch."

I rinse the shampoo from my hair as he runs conditioner through his.

"So, 'no contact' really means..."

"Ninety days of no communication, contact and intimacy."

"So you can't have sex for three months?"

"Nope."

"Dear God you're gonna be she-satan by the time this is over." He grumbles.

"Nah, Nikki can't go three months without pussy. He'll come find me in, like, eight days."

"Or he'll get it from someone else." He scoffs before realizing what he said.

"And I'm done." I flatly let out, not even bothering to put conditioner in my hair or finish bathing before getting out of the shower.

"Viv, I didn't mean--"

"--It's fine." I wrap their one towel around myself and shut the bathroom door as I leave.

Everyone gives me an odd look as I walk by them, quickly putting together I was just in the shower with Axl, but I do hope they know I'd rather sew my vulva together than ever fuck Axl Rose.

I shut myself in the bedroom, putting a hand over my mouth as a sob tries to escape my throat.

The next month was spent slowly deteriorating. I wallowed in depression, neglecting to take my Nardil for a few days at a time without realizing my antidepressant couldn't work if I wasn't taking my medication the way I was supposed to, even if I did just miss a couple days between each dose.

I tried to play like I was okay but the guys knew I was really down.

Steven got into the habit of sleeping with me so I wouldn't be alone, and I could tell what nights he hung out with Nikki because he would smell like our house.

By then Nikki knew I was staying with them, but at that point, unbeknownst to me, he'd begun to find solace for my absence in that of heroin, crack-cocaine and Vanity...or what I like to call "the trifecta that damn near killed me before it was all said and done."

"C'mon, Viv, it'll be fun." Stevie nudges me and I roll over in my bed and look at him, Tansy and Duff.

"What's the point of going out for my wedding anniversary when my husband can't celebrate it with me?"

"I talked to Tommy and they're celebrating it tonight. You should, too." Tansy says.

"I don't know..." I go on. "It just seems wrong."

"You're on a healthy break from one another. Not divorced. C'mon, babe, you gotta get outta this room." Steven points out.

"Fine. We can order pizza and celebrate in the living room." I state.

"No..." Duff chuckles, shaking his head. "...Just trust us, Viv. We're gonna have a good time."

I look at the three of them, going back and forth with myself.

"Fine." I let out a sigh. "Let's go out."

And so began our hellacious, but very fun, night out, that ended in the Los Angeles Police Department.

[crimsonrae]

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Ten

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Simple and Complex

"Twas early one morning a fair maid arose,

And slipped away with her lover's clothes,

And off to the fields a sure she goes

With naught e'na kiss in the morning early."

An unwilling smile pulled at Lyrra's lips as she smothered a sigh and attempted to pay her bard no mind. She finished hanging a few freshly laundered shirts and trousers as she listened to his approach. She had slipped out of her cottage long before Jaskier had woken. A basket of laundry in hand as she went to the stream – Geralt had roused enough from his place by her hearth to note her exit but seemed incline to rest longer himself. She was grateful for the solitude. It gave her a chance to gather her thoughts and calm the whirlwind that Jaskier had incited in her. She needed the distance and the time to figure out -

"Are you really just going to ignore me?"

Him.

Lyrra glanced around the shirt she was pinning up with a raised brow to see him standing proudly with his hands on his hips, "Did you say something?"

Jaskier narrowed his gaze at her in an odd mix of exasperation and amusement, "Lyrra."

"Jaskier." She intoned and bit back a smirk as he huffed.

A sly glint entered his eyes as he began to sing again.

"The bard arose and he discovered her sin,

His heart and his song composed quite the din."

Lyrra could not help the faint laugh that left her as she listened to him. Puckish amusement danced in his blue orbs as he sidled up next to her and slid an arm around her waist.

"And he had the will for to greet her so slim

With a kiss in the morning early."

She didn't need the last line of his song to see the kiss coming. A quiet sigh left her as she welcomed his familiar embrace. Her skin still tingled with the memory of their coupling and the calm she had achieved was swiftly thwarted by his touch. Reluctantly, she pulled away.

Jaskier smiled contentedly at her, "Good morning."

"It's afternoon, you slept the morning away." Lyrra replied lightly as she moved her basket under the tree her clothesline was tethered on, "And I'm rather sure those aren't the words to that song."

"Ehh, I'm a bard, pretty much gives me free rein to change the words." Jaskier shrugged. His keen eyes cataloged her every move, "You should've slept the morning away too. You were up as long as I was."

As if to prove his point, Lyrra found herself swallowing a yawn. In all actuality, she had been up longer than he had. Her mind had not been able to let the events of the night settle and her dreams had taken a dark turn once she had drifted off. She still wasn't sure what had come over her in that bathing chamber, she was never that bold. Yet, bold was the only way to describe her actions from the time he entered until...well. A blush rose to her cheeks and she could see a salacious grin crossing Jaskier's lips from her periphery at the sight. He knew well where her mind had gone.

"Stop it." She murmured lowly, refusing to look in his direction.

"Stop what?" His tone dripped with quiet laughter.

"You know what." She glowered faintly at him and wished that she still had a few shirts to pin to the line, if only to have something to do besides stare at him.

He tilted his head and his mirthful smile continued to tease her as he said, "You are adorably shy in the light of day. I do hope that I never make you stop blushing."

It was her turn to huff, "Jaskier."

He chuckled quietly and reached for her again, "Now what happened to the woman who had her wicked way with me last night, hmm?"

Lyrra was sure her face was scarlet now at his words as she allowed him to draw her close again, "She came to her senses."

"That sounds...not good." Jaskier murmured as he tilted her chin up and frowned bemusedly at her, "I suppose it's time we actually have that talk."

Lyrra shifted awkwardly under his gaze as she ruefully wondered which talk he was referring to, their tryst or her back. Neither was a conversation she particularly wanted to have, if for completely different reasons. She had been grateful when the topic had fallen to the wayside upon returning to her cottage.

She forced a smile when she realized she was taking too long to respond, "That talk."

"Yes, the one you've been trying to figure out how to avoid since I brought it up last night." Jaskier uttered faintly amused as she looked away somewhat sheepishly and bit back a sigh, "Believe it or not, not a conversation I want to have either, but as fun, as our little dance has been... we do need to -"

He waved his hand about as he tried to find the right words. Lyrra took pity on him as her smile turned a little more genuine, "Clear the air? Create some boundaries? Form an understanding?"

Jaskier nodded, "Yes, that. That would be good."

Lyrra stifled a giggle as she saw her nerves reflected in his expression. It amazed her how he could go from unerringly confident to uncertain in a matter of seconds, especially around her. She was not someone to be nervous around. Her fingers itched with the need to touch him, reassure him. The impulse to soothe his quiet anxiety was strong and unexpected. She wasn't a tactile person by any means, she usually went out of her way to avoid being touched. Jaskier was her opposite in this manner, he felt everything, like an overgrown toddler. He picked up, played, listened, and sometimes tasted everything with which he came into contact. He took comfort in touch, she knew this implicitly.

As if to prove her unspoken point, he seemed to sense her reluctance and reached out to caress her cheek, "What is it? Talk to me."

"It's nothing – I just...I tend to get carried away with you."

Jaskier raised a brow as he prodded her to continue, "And that's a bad thing?"

"It's not like me." She mumbled quietly and resisted the urge to fidget. She didn't know how to explain to him the maelstrom he made her feel. How she found him both comforting and disconcerting. How she allowed him more liberties than anyone since...since ever.

"Again, that's a bad thing?" He was more curious now than concerned. Jaskier had been far from surprised when he had woken to find her gone... simply disappointed. He was quickly beginning to learn that avoidance was his lover's instinctual response to anything that made her -

"It's an uncomfortable thing." Lyrra grimaced.

Uncomfortable. He smiled gently at her, at least she was somewhat aware of her tendencies, "You know, I typically don't do serious."

Lyrra blinked at the strange segue, "Really? Hadn't noticed."

He bit back a laugh at her dry tone as he made his point, "Serious is complicated and boring and messy. I like easy and fun, simple... but you, my lovely Lyrra, you are very complicated and serious. But I can say with absolute certainty you are not boring. You make me curious."

She merely stared at him still unsure where he was going with his little lecture.

"Curious. Confused. Uncomfortable." Jaskier answered placing a special emphasis on that last word, "No, strike that – you don't make me uncomfortable; you make me uncertain. None of that is necessarily a bad thing, you know?"

"Hasn't been my experience." Lyrra replied softly.

"No, I suppose it hasn't." His fingers brushed across her back and the brand he now knew rested there and she tensed at the reminder, "I don't think that I make you uncomfortable, either. I think it's that you enjoy yourself with me that discomfits you. Tell me you didn't enjoy yourself last night."

Her cheeks burned and she couldn't meet his eyes as she fumbled for a response, "I... you know, I did."

"Do you want to do it again?" He asked quietly and linked his fingers with hers.

Lyrra felt her stomach flutter at the question as she tried vainly to ignore the heat that rushed through her veins, "...yes."

"So do I." He murmured softly and unconsciously leaned into her, "Is that really so unsettling?"

Her grey eyes were drawn to his lips, "...yes. You unsettle me, Jaskier."

"How?"

"I crave you. I've known you barely a fortnight." Lyrra whispered, not missing the desirous look that entered his eyes at her words, "And I crave your kisses and your touch... even your voice. I don't crave people. I don't know what to do with you."

"I think you know exactly what to do with me." He couldn't help the tease that left his tongue even as she hit his arm, "Ow."

Vaguely annoyed, she attempted to pull away from him again, but he refused to let her step back. "Alright, okay. I'm sorry. I don't do serious, remember? It's just... this doesn't have to be hard, it can be simple."

Lyrra sighed frustrated, "Nothing about this is simple."

"Only because you're making it complicated." Jaskier pointed out somewhat humorously, "We already agreed to not get married and after last night, I think we're agreed we can't be merely friends. Especially, since we both admitted we want a repeat..." His words slowly caught up with him and he offered her an acknowledging nod, "Right, we may be a little complicated."

Lyrra snorted and shook her head at him. He was utterly ridiculous and she adored it despite herself, "Let me make this simple. I like you, Jaskier. That's simple. You like me back, that's simple too. Last night was great and yes, I want it to happen again, but I'm not sure that it should."

"Why?" He breathed the questioned startled.

The possibility of them not continuing their affair had not occurred to the bard, she could see that plainly and sighed again, "In a day, a week, sometime rather soon you're going to be gone, Jaskier... And I don't - I don't want to miss you."

He looked like he had been struck and Lyrra tried not to wince under his stare or to follow after him when he stepped away. She felt cold at his abrupt distance. Perhaps, she had worded that too harshly. Guilt twisted in her gut as she silently pleaded with him to understand what she couldn't say.

"Right." A bitter laugh escaped him, "Oh, avoidance should really be your middle name, Lyrrana."

"Jaskier-"

"No." He shook his head and cut her off, "You don't want to miss me? That's shit, if ever I heard it. Let's reword that, shall we? What you really mean to say is: Jaskier, you're going to hurt me, so let's not even bother."

A stone sank with a ferocious crash in her stomach as his words and gaze scolded her like an unruly child. She wanted to be angry with him, but he wasn't entirely wrong. She stared helplessly, not sure how to respond or even if she should.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I really should've rented that room for us last night." He murmured almost sadly, "I'm not going to hurt you, Lyrra."

She swallowed tightly, "I know..."

"Do you?!" His disbelief seared her and she found she couldn't meet his gaze any longer, "Do I scare you, Lyrra? Last night did I -"

"No. No, Jaskier." Lyrra interrupted before he could finish his question, "I wanted last night. You didn't push me or force me."

Jaskier stared at her as he replayed everything he had said and done in that bathing chamber. A slow realization began to creep on him, "But I did scare you."

"No."

Despite the certainty in her voice, he knew it was a lie. It wasn't physical intimacy that was causing Lyrra's hesitance over their affair, it was emotional, "I did. When I saw your back. When I demanded you let me in, I scared you."

Lyrra's lips tightened into a thin line as she glared at him, "No."

Jaskier didn't seem to hear her as he muttered, "How am I attracted to the most emotionally stunted people on the bloody Continent?"

"Jaskier." She sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "Can we forget this conversation and go back to where you kissed me good morning?"

He looked as frustrated as she felt as he, in turn, uttered, "No. I promised you last night we go at your pace, not mine... I'll see if I can get my room back at the inn."

"You don't have to." Lyrra started softly.

Jaskier forced a smile at her and she hated it, "Yeah, I do. I think we both need our space. Simpler this way."

She went to protest further, but he cut her off once again.

"Oh...one more thing." A determined expression marred his visage as he swept back into her space and pressed his lips to hers. Lyrra gasped faintly at the sudden contact and he stole the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Unconsciously, her hands rose to tangle in his hair as he backed her against the trunk of the tree. A fiery thrill rushed through her veins as coherent thought left her and all she could do was cling to him as she simply felt.

She felt his warmth and the subtle strength in his body as he pressed against her. She felt his almost desperate grip on her hips and tasted his passion as he took his fill. He hadn't kissed her like this before... He was usually gentle, curious, searching, but this was demanding, almost possessive, it was dizzying. It wasn't until she completely melted into his touch that he pulled away and pressed his head to hers.

A smug gleam sparkled in his eyes, "That's what I thought too."

Utter confusion descended on Lyrra as she stared at him, "What?"

His smile was even smugger, "The thing about having this talk is that declaring our intentions goes both ways. I'll stay at the inn, but I fully intend to end up back in your bed and if I happen to fall into your heart, all the better. You don't get to ignore me. You don't get to be afraid of me, Lyrra. I'm not that scary."

No, he was terrifying.

He stole one more kiss before starting his trek to the cottage. Lyrra was left bewildered to stare after him. She shouted out the only thing that came to mind before he got too far, "This is far from simple!"

Jaskier spun on his heel and grinned, "Yeah, but I already told you – you're complicated. And I like you. Besides, I'm not that easy to get rid of, ask Geralt."

He disappeared around the bend a second later and Lyrra covered her face in disbelief, "He's absolutely mad."

»»————-　　————-««

Geralt felt a headache coming on as he headed back towards the woods. Enough time had passed since he had last checked the clearing that whoever had created the mutated fleders would have had the chance to find their corpses. He hoped anyway. Otherwise, he would need to figure out another way to track down those creature's creator and that meant spending more time in the Toussaint countryside than he was comfortable. Especially, now that Jaskier and Lyrra were...

He didn't know what the fuck those two were doing.

Which in part was why he had a headache now. Jaskier had been gathering his things when he had left the cottage, muttering under his breath about being drawn to emotionally constipated people.

Geralt didn't ask.

He would really rather not know.

What he had gleaned was that they were getting rooms at the inn. Despite his earlier protestations about overstaying their welcome in Lyrra's home, he wasn't looking forward to dealing with the general populace again. He pushed the thought aside as he moved quietly through the brush. The smell of rot had only become heavier in the days that followed and he no longer needed to follow his tracks back to the clearing. The other change was the faint buzzing of flies that filled his ears. The fleders decomp had attracted more insects. His teeth clenched as he resigned himself to the fact that the creator of the two beasts either had not bothered to look for them or the corpses hadn't been discovered yet.

There certainly hadn't been any talk amongst the locals about the discovery of two fleder corpses. He sighed as he stepped fully out of the woods and casually observed the clearing again. The flesh was almost completely gone from the fleders now... wait...fleder. One. Geralt tilted his head and eyed the shadows behind the first corpse. He wasn't mistaken there was only one body now. The other was gone.

He strode forward and bent to study the ground. There were drag marks, but that could have been from an animal dragging the body away for food. Yet, he found that scenario unlikely. Most scavengers could sense a potentially dangerous meal. The venom the fleder created would likely have made it toxic to any creature that attempted to eat it.

More silently than he had entered the clearing, he exited following the tracks. Even then, he could have followed his nose the stench was so bad. Whoever or whatever had come to claim the body had done so recently. It wasn't long before he stumbled onto a narrow path.

The trees had thinned and he could make out neatly organized rows of barren grape vines through the foliage. He must have been on the edge of one of the vineyards. Frowning, he continued on his hunt. Geralt noted the unnatural stillness in the air as he walked. He heard no birds or little critters scurrying through the brush. There were no distant sounds of farmhands, not even a breeze of wind to stir the leaves. A familiar twinge in his gut had him ill at ease, he wasn't the only predator afoot.

He must have walked a quarter-mile when he did finally hear it. It was low and shrill like an out of tune string on a lute. A song. Someone was singing. His twinge turned into a solid sinking instinct as he had a good assumption of what he was about to discover. His hand twitched for his sword as he dimly realized he had not brought the silver one with him. He had anticipated a human threat, not a monster. Geralt knew he had a choice to make – he could continue on and have his assumptions proven correct, but be ill-equipped to deal with the threat or he could head back and return later to a threat that had potentially disappeared.

Sighing quietly, he drew his sword and bent to pull a small silver dagger from his boot. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He skirted to the edge of the path as he moved like a stalking cat around the bend. His golden eyes missed nothing as he took in the dilapidated ruins of an old manor. Past the tumbled walls he could make out the form of a woman. Her singing was louder now as she hunched over the rotted form of the missing fleder. A bruxa.

He watched for a moment as the bruxa continued to sing. Her head tilted back enough that he could see what appeared to be tears streaming down her cheeks as she caressed the festered corpse. Geralt frowned in confusion.

Had the bruxa made the fleders? Was that even possible?

It wasn't unheard of for bruxae to hunt in packs, but he had never known a bruxa to bother with a fleder. The creatures were usually too stupid and wild to be of notice to the high order vampires.

A low grumbling sounded behind him and Geralt stiffened. It seemed fate had taken his choice from his hand. He whipped around to see a very alive, very hungry looking fleder. The commotion had garnered the attention of the bruxa and her song turned into a screeching cry.

"Fuck." Geralt muttered.

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[shan-ri]

Popsicles Are for People…and People are Like Popsicles

It was melting fast. The seething summer sun beating down on the cold treat mercilessly, drips of sweet citrus collecting on the stick quicker than her absentminded licking could keep up. Mari turned the popsicle to the side, trying to gauge which angle was best to take the next bite. There wasn't much left, so she had to make it count-

"Are you gonna eat it or just stare at it?"

She jumped ever so slightly and turned her head to see the usual judgement plastered across her brother's face. And in that moment, when his comment warranted her sticking out her tongue at him, the popsicle finally heaved its last breaths, submitting to the combined attacks of Mari's appetite and the sun's rays.

Juice ran down the stick to her fingers and she caught sight of the last bit of the treat slipping off to land on the ground. She stared at it in dismay for a moment, before bending down to scoop it up and whirling on her brother.

"It would have been fine if not for you, Mako!" She jabbed the popsicle stick at him, the other hand clutching the melting piece of popsicle.

Mako shrugged, his own popsicle stick jutting out from the side of his mouth.

"Not my fault."

Mari paused for a moment and was considering whether the sweet in her hand belonged on his shirt or smeared on his face when there was a soft 'mew’ at her feet.

A gray striped cat was winding around her legs and when she glanced down it looked up imploringly at her, green eyes practically sparkling with feline hope.

And who am I to crush that hope? Mari made up her mind, dropped into a crouch, and held out her sticky hand towards the stray. It began to sniff at her hand tentatively.

Mako realized what she was doing at the last instant. "Mari, don't-!"

Before he could even finish his sentence, the cat took the piece of popsicle in its teeth, darted a fair distance away from them, and began chowing down on the orange-flavored ice. Mari glanced up at Mako and grinned impishly.

"Too late, it's done."

He groaned and put his hand on his face. "Popsicles are for people, not cats. The poor animal is going to get sick."

She glanced over at the animal in question. It was finished eating and beginning to wash its face with a little white paw. A pang of guilt shot through her stomach, but at least the stray had enjoyed the snack and chances were that tiny piece didn't contain enough artificial sugar to do anything bad.

Mari wiped any of that fleeting concern from her face and gave Mako her own shrug.

"Next time, I'm not buying your popsicle for you," he promised. His words sounded stern, but Mari couldn't help the laugh that slipped from her lips. Mako wasn't serious, he could never keep those types of silly, little promises to himself or to her. And Mari had already counted on that.

"Okayyyy. No treats for me!" She sung, beginning to walk further down the wharf, away from her brother and towards the preening cat.

She bent down once more and held out her hand, still sticky and sweet smelling from the popsicle. The cat afforded her one glance and then walked off with its tail waving jauntily in the air.

"Hey!" Mari shouted and jumped to her feet.

The feline shot forward--only to seek shelter beyond the legs of someone new.

"Awww, you two got popsicles without me?" a new, somewhat husky voice complained.

Mari's spirits soared once more when she recognized the long-legged boy who stood before her. "Keresh! You made it!"

The boy's mouth turned down in a sour pout and he muttered, "Not in time though apparently…"

"Hey, don't be cross, Keresh. It doesn't suit you." Mako's voice sounded and he materialized behind Mari in that eerily silent way he always did.

Keresh rolled his eyes and the stray meowed, pawing insistently at his legs. He obliged the cat and lifted it up into his arms where it promptly began rubbing its head all over his face, purring like a speedboat motor.

"You traitor…" Mari muttered, eyes narrowing at both Keresh and the cat. She had even given it the last of her popsicle, yet this was the thanks she got?

A familiar hand landed on her shoulder. "You too, Mari. You know that it's only acting that way because Keresh smells like fish."

Mako said it so matter-of-factly that Mari couldn't help the amused chuckle which escaped from her lips.

Keresh's poisonous glare was also only made funnier as the grey cat in his arms tried biting stray locks of his hair. She may have kept laughing at his expense, but Mako's hand on her shoulder tightened and he began pulling her to the side.

"Okay, enough playing around you two. We gotta bring in the traps and set up the bait before the tide changes."

They muttered in agreement and the cat yowled in protest as Keresh detached it from his face.

Mako began dragging the traps in one by one as he crouched on an outcropping of rocks. He checked them each quickly, his keen eye easily discerning the ones that had reached their capacity of crabs, crayfish, and shellfish before putting those to the side. Some of the empty ones he sunk back below the waves, while others he also placed on the rocks--probably because the traps were damaged, or the bait was no longer fresh and tempting enough.

Mari watched her brother for a little while. She would never admit it to him but… she found his routine actions oddly calming and admired the skills which he'd honed over the years. He didn't do this for their main source of income, mainly to bring a little extra fresh seafood to the dinner table and then sell the rest off to a proper fish vendor. Or, so he explained.

But Mari knew better. She could see the way his eyes glittered whenever they walked the beaches of their home, plundering the sea for her bounties, and hear the excited, rising intonation of his voice as he discussed even the most menial of fishing activities.

She shook her head and went back to focusing on her task--setting wriggling bait worms on hooks.

They moved slick and wet under her touch, but her fingers were sure and practiced. Not a single worm would survive her ministrations.

She wished she could say the same for Keresh.

Unfortunately, his baiting of the hooks was clumsy at best, dreadful at worst. It seemed that every other worm was dropped on the sand before it was finally set upon the hook. Mari grimaced as the boy dropped yet another bait worm making a bid to escape. There was no way she was letting him near the small bait fish swimming in the bucket beside her anytime soon.

But, she knew she couldn't lose her patience with him. Keresh had only arrived in their town a couple of months or so prior and, by his jerky, uncertain actions, Mari guessed he had never engaged in even the most basic fishing activities before.

He fumbled over the hook in his hand and groaned, "Why can't we be eating popsicles instead?"

"You're still going on about those?" Mari shot back. "Here. Give me that, I'll do it before you hurt yourself."

Keresh fell back into the sand with a dramatic sigh as Mari wrestled the remaining hooks away from him. "I don’t understand why you go through all this effort to catch fish. It seems so…excessive."

He began unraveling the tangled fishing wire and Mari fought back a scoff as she arranged the baited hooks along the rim of another bucket.

"It's not excessive, it's necessary. How do you suggest we catch them then? With ice cream cones and rainbow pops?"

Mari shot him a quizzical glance with the beginnings of a smirk. But he didn't even look up, shrugging and replying, "I dunno. With your teeth. And your hands too if it's a big one."

"You're kidding. No one can do that or would even want to if they could!" She sat back on her haunches and gestured to Keresh. "What? Can you?"

Keresh finally looked up and his turquoise eyes shone with absolute earnestness.

"Yes. My teeth are very good for catching fish."

Mari laughed. She couldn't help such a natural reaction. The image of Keresh swimming under the waves, snapping his mouth open and closed to snag any passing fish, was too hilarious.

She clutched her stomach from the continuing guffaws, managing to force out in between giggles: "What are you, then? A shark?"

"No! How dare you!" Keresh jumped to his feet and glowered down at her, looking, impossibly, unreasonably offended.

Mari's laughter reached a new pitch and she was struggling for breath when Mako rejoined them.

Through the tears in her eyes, she saw him standing, a trap writhing with crabs and such grasped in each hand, and a third trap slung around his neck by a rope. His pants were rolled up to the knees, and his hair was wet from the waves.

"Is there time for you two to be rolling around in the sand?" He asked, though he looked more perplexed than upset. His head swung towards Keresh as it became apparent Mari was still trying to regain her ability to speak, much less find any composure. "Is she making fun of your baiting again?"

"No…" Keresh began reluctantly, shooting a glare at Mari. Then, he seemed to change his mind midway. "Yes…In a sense."

Mako switched one of the traps over to his other hand to give Keresh a friendly pat on the back. "Don't worry about her. Come on, I'll buy you a popsicle."

Keresh lit up immediately. "Really?"

"Really. Geez, calm down." Mako gestured at Mari to get up and gather the equipment, and she grudgingly obliged. Sometimes, he really seemed to think he could order her around…

She trailed behind a few steps, weighted down by the buckets and the bag strapped across her chest, while Mako tried, unsuccessfully, to stop Keresh from jumping up and down in excitement.

"I'm just getting you one, okay?! You really eat too many of them."

"You can't eat too many popsicles. They're practically air!" Keresh protested, quite seriously.

Mari could tell Mako was getting flustered, the left corner of his mouth rising in frustration. "That's not how it works. They're like any other food, if you eat too much of it you'll-!"

His explanation was cut off as Keresh suddenly came to a stop and looked straight up at the sky.

A few beats of silence other than the cries of seagulls and the crash of waves, and then: "There's gonna be a storm soon."

"Huh? Really?" Mari also looked overhead, seeing only the wispiest of clouds, the sun’s brute power reigning supreme even in the late afternoon and early evening.

Keresh merely nodded while Mako stared at him with a strange expression on his face.

He glanced at Mari, but she couldn't think of anything to say before Keresh began prancing ahead of them--acting like an overgrown child once again.

Mari and Mako knew better than to take the true nature of the weather at heart from a moment’s glance. They shrugged off the comment for later introspection and chased after their friend before he devastated the nearest tourist shop's dessert cooler.

End Part 1