#got up from the bed. took four steps and oops floor time again

[energon-with-a-curly-straw]

i like the floor. the floor is my friend. the floor keeps me safe. i need help up

[labomi]

a demon’s promise | (18+)

summary: You didn't want to spend your Friday night trying to summon the king of all demons in your tiny apartment, but here you are with your best friend by your side reciting an incantation from a strange book. To your utter relief, the spell doesn't work or so you seem to think.

pairing: sukuna ryomen x f!reader

words: 4.2k

warnings: explicit sexual content, slight dubcon, smut, explicit language, choking, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, not a particularly happy ending

notes: read on ao3 here! first sukuna piece and i don’t have much to say except aahhhhh!! i initially planned it to be more of a cute, fluffy story but obviously that didn’t happen oops. well anyways thanks for reading!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask hesitantly, watching your best friend finish drawing a pentagram on your living room floor. Kimi dusts the chalk off her fingers, admiring her work with a satisfied smile.

“Oh, come on,” she says, a little exasperated at you. “Don’t bail on me now. Aren’t you the tiniest bit excited?”

“About summoning a demon from a weird book you found in the back of a sketchy thrift shop? Yea, I’m absolutely thrilled,” you deadpan.

It was about a week ago when Kimi surprised you with her new find. The book was bound in torn leather and filled with handwritten notes about how to conjure the supernatural on ink stained, wrinkled pages. It certainly looked old, but you couldn’t help but think it was a scam. Some kid might have decided to replicate the look and feel of an ancient book, filling it with absolute nonsense that your best friend was clearing falling for. 

Unfortunately, once Kimi had gotten a hold of this book, she would not shut up about it. For the past week, you tried your best to feign interest in her new obsession as she flipped through pages, oohing and aahing at the sketches and descriptions of different types of demons. They ranged from little mischievous creatures to incubi and succubi and even a terrifying being that ate the souls of its prey.

For the most part, you think the book is absolutely absurd, but you can't ignore the tiny voice in your head that is just a little terrified about the potential existence of demons. Kimi had begged you nonstop to try one of the spells. You were hesitant and initially said no, but she kept begging you over and over again. Eventually you gave in because she was your best friend, and she was clearly excited about trying out the book with you. There is no harm in humoring her a little, right?

Kimi finishes lighting the five candles that surround the pentagram as you place a small bowl in the center.

“Alright!” Kimi says, clapping her hands. She looks at the open spell book next to her, double checking the instructions. “The only thing left is a drop of human blood.” Kimi looks at you expectantly.

You blink and point a finger at yourself. “Me?” you squeak. “But isn’t this your idea?”

“But you know how squeamish I get about pain and blood! Pretty pretty pleaassee,” your best friend begs.

You sigh. “Alright, alright. You owe me big time for this. Hand me the knife.” Kimi happily gives you the small knife that you had grabbed earlier from the kitchen. Scrunching your face, you make a tiny little cut on your index finger and squeeze one drop of blood into the bowl. You suck on your finger, hoping it would scab over quickly. “Ok, now what?”

Kimi turns the page. “Now we just have to say this incantation together. Come here.” You scoot over to sit next to your friend as she holds the book between the two of you. Together, you both recite the words scribbled down on the crumbled page.

You wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And nothing happens.

“Umm,” you break the awkward silence. “Nothing happened.”

“No, this can’t be right.” Kimi groans and starts aggressively flipping through the pages. “We followed the instructions exactly. It should have worked!”

Part of you feels relieved. You weren’t particularly thrilled about inviting the supernatural into your tiny apartment on a Friday night. Now you’re more convinced that the book really is a fake.

“What were we supposed to summon anyway?” you ask, a little curious.

Kimi frowns, still re-reading the instructions. “A creature named Sukuna Ryomen. Apparently he’s the king of all demons.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. “What the fuck, Kimi? The king? You chose to summon the king of all demons? What were you thinking? I thought we were going to summon those harmless creatures that steal people’s left socks or something like that!”

Kimi huffs. “Well, I did ask you what we should summon, but you said you didn’t care and that I should pick something. So I did!”

You rub your temples, trying to keep calm. “You’re right, you’re right. My bad. I’m sorry.” You could tell that Kimi is already quite upset that the spell didn’t work, and you were just adding fuel to the fire. “Hey! It’s ok. Let’s just take the rest of the night off. I’ll clean everything up, don’t worry about it. And listen, maybe we can try a different spell next week. Perhaps there’s not enough spiritual energy in this room or something to summon the big guy.”

Kimi perks up a little at your words. “We can try again next week? Really?”

You nod. “Promise. Take the book back to your place and choose something a little bit more tame, ok?”

Kimi giggles. “Ok, I promise too!” She grabs the book and carefully places it in her bag before getting up and heading towards the door. You follow her and give her a quick hug.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” you say.

“Yep! Good night!”

Once Kimi leaves your apartment, you let out a deep breath. You survey the mess on your living room floor with a frown. You truly love your best friend to death, but she’s just a little too adventurous for your tastes sometimes.

A sudden wave of lethargy washes over you, causing you to lean against your kitchen counter for support. You rub your eyes, struggling to keep them open as your eyelids start to feel unusually heavy. 

Weird.

It isn’t particularly late, so you are a bit surprised to feel so tired out of the blue. You figure the excitement of tonight’s activities likely got the best of you, so you decide to retire early for the night. Walking into the living room, you blow out all the candles around the pentagram before retreating into your bedroom. You will clean up everything tomorrow. No harm in letting it sit out for the night.

---

You wake up with a start. The darkness of your bedroom greets you. Groaning, you grab your phone in order to check the time but it was dead. You silently curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it before passing out. You lean back in your bed with a sigh. Normally, you sleep through the night undisturbed. You briefly wonder what had woken you up. 

Crash!

You instantly freeze and hold your breath. The noise came from the living room. It sounded like something had fallen. You try to calm your racing heart as you convince yourself that it was just one of your decorations falling off the wall. But you know you won’t be able to comfortably go back to sleep without checking, so you quietly slip out of bed and open your bedroom door. You peek into the living room, but you’re unable to make out anything clearly in the darkness. 

You fully step out of your bedroom and hit the light switch for the living room. Squinting your eyes, you try to adjust to the sudden brightness. Once your vision finally clears, you gasp. 

There’s someone in your living room.

The first thing you notice about the intruder is his tattoos. Intricate symbols mark his entire body, including his face.

The second thing you realize is that he’s completely naked.

You open your mouth to scream, but the intruder appears right in front of you within the blink of an eye and clamps his large hand over your mouth to shush you.

“Be quiet,” he growls deeply. “You can’t act so surprised. After all, you’re the one who called me here.”

You feel a chill crawl down your spine as your eyes widen in realization.

No. No. It can’t be.

Once the intruder is convinced you won’t start screaming, he removes his hand from your mouth. He stands back and takes in your appearance as you stand there numbly in your pajama shirt and shorts.

“A woman, huh.” He licks his lips. “I wasn’t expecting a woman to be the one to resurrect me, but I’m not complaining.”

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening!

You try to convince yourself that you’re still dead asleep in your bed and dreaming about this entire encounter. There is no way that damn book actually worked!

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whisper to yourself, suddenly recalling the name of the demon you tried to summon with Kimi.

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Oh! You’ve heard of me!” He grins. “You should feel honored to be in the presence of the Great King of Demons.”

You shudder at his voice. There’s a certain aura of power, strength, and pure evil that you can feel radiating from the demon, but his appearance is still rather surprising. For the Great King of Demons, he looks rather...human. You could have easily mistaken him as a normal man who just really liked tattoos. No tail. No wings. No horns. Perhaps your view of demons was a bit outdated.

“I have to admit. I’m a little disappointed,” Sukuna says with a small frown, surveying his own body. “It seems you didn’t summon me correctly. My power is nowhere near what it should be, and it took me forever to spawn into this measly physical form. I normally have four arms and two faces.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. Did he say four arms? And two faces?

The demon taps a finger on his chin in thought. “I did start off as a human before becoming a demon, so I guess it makes sense I’m reborn looking like a human at first.”

You silently thank your friend for messing up the ritual. If Sukuna had spawned immediately at full power, the two of you would have both been in danger. At least it’s only you in harm’s way. Kimi is safe and sound, far away from your tiny apartment.

“It’s ok,” Sukuna purrs, approaching you. “It doesn’t matter that you messed up the ritual a little. You can help me fix it now, pet.”

You stumble backwards, heart racing and body quivering in fear. He reaches out to place his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before pushing you against the wall. You instantly freeze, breath caught in your throat as you wonder what he’ll ask of you.

Sukuna lightly strokes your cheek with one hand. You want to recoil in fear and disgust, but your body remains frozen in horror.

“You haven’t noticed?” he asks. “It was your blood used in the summoning ritual. That means we are bonded.”

No. No.

Sukuna places two fingers underneath your chin and lifts them up so you look directly up into his eyes. You tremble uncontrollably as you meet his dark gaze.

“The way I regain my strength is by sucking the energy out of you. You might have noticed that you felt tired and sluggish after the ritual. That’s because the it took a lot of energy from you to give me a physical form. Don’t worry though, it’s not enough to kill you. But you are pretty weak, so it might take me awhile to regain my full strength.”

You gulp. The Great King of Demons at full strength? You know you have to prevent this from happening somehow, but your phone is dead, the book is gone, and Sukuna is not likely to let you leave his sight long enough for you to figure out a plan. Was it even possible to fight back against him? Maybe your best bet was to comply with his demands and hope he spares you.

“But there is a way to speed up the process.” He looks down at your body hungrily before leaning his head towards you until his lips hover over your left ear. “Sex,” he whispers huskily.

You stiffen slightly and try to ignore the spark that travels down your body and lights up your core.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you stammer nervously.

“I feed off your body’s energy, and everyone knows that there’s nothing more powerful than sexual energy. Sex gets your heart racing and blood pumping. It’s the perfect energy source for my complete resurrection.” Sukuna moves away from your ear and grins at your stricken face. “You are the one who summoned me here. It would be rude to not feed your guest and accommodate his needs.”

He places a thumb on your bottom lip, rubbing it back and forth. You try not to react, but your body won’t listen to you. Sukuna’s presence is overwhelming. His bare chest is practically pressed against your body. His eyes are dark with lust as he gazes at your face. His thumb continues to rub your lips which leaves you flustered. Your mind feels hazy, and your body feels unusually warm. A small, sane part of you tries to fight back. A little voice in your head reminds that this is the king of all demons. How could you fall for the literal embodiment of pure evil?

“I know you’re turned on,” Sukuna says smugly. You look away feeling absolutely mortified, but the demon grabs your head and forces you to look back at him. “Ah ah. Keep your eyes on me. No need to get embarrassed. Like I said before, I was resurrected from your blood, so we share a connection. This means I can feel your blood pumping in your own body, and I can tell exactly where it’s headed.” Sukuna drops his gaze down your body to emphasize his point. He doesn’t miss how your thighs suddenly clench together.

With a dangerous flash in his eyes, Sukuna hoists you over his shoulder and throws you on your bed. Before you could even think about saying no, Sukuna is on top of you harshly nipping and sucking at your neck. One hand is already underneath your shirt, fondling one of your breasts and playing with your hard nipple. He sucks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck which leaves you moaning shamelessly underneath him. Any doubts or reservations immediately leave your mind. 

Your body feels like it’s on fire being this close to Sukuna. He chuckles darkly, leaving your neck and pulling out his hand from underneath your skirt. “That’s my good pet,” he purrs. “So eager just for me.” Sukuna kisses you roughly, leaving you gasping as you try to match his fervor. Eventually he leans back and admires how swollen your lips look after his harsh treatment. Your pupils are blown wide with lust. With Sukuna’s face hovering just above yours, you can’t help but admire his unique markings. Without realizing, you reach a hand out and start tracing the lines on his cheek. Sukuna stills for a moment, enjoying your tender touch. 

The moment of gentleness shatters when Sukuna rips open your shirt with his bare hands. He immediately latches onto one of your breasts with his mouth and roughly gropes the other. You grip the back of his head, digging your fingers in his short hair. He bites down a little too sharply on your nipple, causing you to yelp in slight pain. Sukuna lightly chuckles at your reaction and finally pulls away, giving your now sore breasts a break. He suddenly flips your positions so that you are now hovering over him as his back hits the bed.

You stare at his chiseled chest and can’t resist rubbing your hands up and down his prominent muscles. Sukuna observes you with an amused look as you openly admire his body. 

“You like what you see?” he smirks.

You ignore the question and begin peppering light kisses down his chest and over his abs. The demon hums, enjoying your soft touch all over his body. However, he eventually has enough of your teasing. He pushes your head down until you’re forced to look at something you’ve tried to avoid glancing at the entire night. Your heart flutters with a little nervousness as you’re greeted with Sukuna’s dick. It’s long and thick with just the slightest curve. You wonder how you’re going to be able to handle his impressive size.

Sukuna can sense your hesitation, so he decides to give you a little push. He grabs your hair roughly and brings your face closer to his throbbing dick. “Be a good girl and open wide.” With a shaky breath, you take the tip of Sukuna’s cock into your mouth. He’s so thick that you can barely fit him in your mouth. With the demon’s hand still on your head, he coaxes you take him in deeper and you oblige. Sukuna groans as your hot, wet mouth takes more and more of his length. You look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock. 

You start to bob your head up and down to Sukuna’s delight, but he’s rather annoyed at your languid pace. “Too slow,” he growls and that’s the only warning you get before the demon jerks his hips up sharpy. You gag as his dick hits the back of your throat, but Sukuna's firm grasp on your head keeps you in place. He tightens his grip and then begins to roughly thrust into your mouth. You try to relax your throat and keep your composure even as tears start to fall from your eyes as the demon ruthlessly fucks your face.

“You feel so good,” Sukuna groans. “You were made to take my dick.” A particularly rough thrust leaves you gagging again and drooling all over his cock. “Fuck yea, just like that.”

Once the demon is satisfied, he releases his grip on your hair and you immediately pull back to catch your breath. You wipe the spit from your mouth and the tears from your eyes, panting heavily from the rough treatment. Sukuna silently admires the way your breasts look against your heaving chest.

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” he demands. You shakily get off the bed and shimmy out of your pajama shorts. As you roll down your underwear, Sukuna doesn’t miss how it’s already drenched with your arousal. As you climb back on the bed, Sukuna roughly places you underneath him once again. He spreads open your legs and presses a finger against your entrance to test your wetness.

“Damn,” Sukuna growls. “You’re this wet from choking on my cock.” You moan in relief as you finally feel some friction against your throbbing core. “A good little whore just for me.”

The demon strokes your folds at a leisurely pace which drives you insane. You unconsciously grind against his hand, silently begging him to pick up the tempo, but Sukuna just chuckles and continues to tease you. He barely brushes your swollen clit with each stroke, causing you to whine in frustration.

���Please,” you whimper.

Sukuna raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Please what?” He suddenly stops his ministrations to your immediate displeasure.

You bite your lip feeling slightly embarrassed, but you decide to swallow whatever pride you have left. “T-touch me. I want to feel you. I n-need to feel you.”

“Only because you asked so sweetly,” Sukuna hums. He finally rubs his thumb over your throbbing clit, and you immediately cry out as pleasure wracks your body. The demon’s touch becomes faster and rougher, leaving you a writhing mess underneath him. Just as you’re about to hit your climax, Sukuna pulls away and you can’t stop the frustrated whine that leaves your mouth. He strokes his dick amused by your reaction and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Wouldn’t it feel better to cum around my cock? Come on. Tell me that’s what you want, pet.”

The fire between your legs only grows as you listen to his words. Desperate for any sort of release, you beg for Sukuna’s cock. “P-please fuck me. I need your dick so badly. Please please please.”

Sukuna answers your pleas by lining his cock against your sopping entrance before pushing into you in one go. You groan at the slight burn as your walls stretch around his wide girth, but you’re so wet he manages to slide his entire length into you without much resistance. Once he’s fully sheathed, the feeling is completely overwhelming. You feel absolutely stuffed to the brim with his giant cock pulsing inside you.

“Oh my god,” you breath. “You’re so big. Fuck.”

Sukuna doesn’t give you much chance to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out until only his tip remains before ramming back into you at full force. You yelp at the sudden movement, while the demon softly groans. He sets a brutal pace that leaves you absolutely breathless. With every snap of his hips, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your toes curl in pleasure, and you rake your nails down his muscular back as the demon fucks you senseless.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sukuna growls as you continue to moan and whimper wantonly underneath him. When the head of his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you at just the right angle, the tension in your body finally snaps and a wave of pleasure completely washes over you. You cry out as you reach your climax, squeezing your eyes shut as you surrender yourself to the sensations of pure bliss.

Once you start to come down from your high, Sukuna pulls out of you and adjusts your body so that you’re on your hands and knees. Your arms are still quivering from your orgasm but you have just enough strength to keep yourself from collapsing. Both you and Sukuna groan as he enters you once again. He somehow fucks you even harder than before. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies slamming against one of another fill the bedroom. Sukuna grips your waist with such force as he slams into you over and over again that you know you’ll wake up with nasty bruises tomorrow. In this position, it feels like his cock is pushing even deeper inside you at such a brutal pace.

“You going to cum on my cock again?” Sukuna pants. He slaps your ass, and you squeak at the unexpected sting. “Answer the question, pet.” He gives you another slap.

“Oh god, yes,” you gasp as your cunt clenches around him. “F-fuck. Your cock feels s-so good.” Satisfied with your answer, Sukuna reaches around to rub your clit. It was just the right amount of extra stimulation you needed to reach your climax again. Your body shudders as you lose yourself to the white hot pleasure. Sukuna pulls out of you, and you immediately collapse on the bed.

“Who said we were done yet, pet?” The demon picks you up and places you on top of him as he lays back on the bed. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck as your hard nipples rub against his chest. You can feel his still erect cock poking at your entrance. “I want to watch your face as I fill you up with my cum.” 

You wince as he slips back into you. You’re already starting to feel overstimulated and sore, but Sukuna hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down yet. He ruts into your limp body, only concerned about chasing his own pleasure.

You don’t think it’s possible for you to cum again, but Sukuna’s cock is continuing to hit all the right places. The pain from overstimulation only seems to egg you on further as you feel the familiar tension building within your body once again. Sukuna groans as your walls start to clench down on him. His thrusts become more erratic as he approaches his own release. 

As he continues to pound into you as you’re splayed across his chest, the demon tells you about all the humans he’ll kill once he’s at full power. Not even women or children will be safe from his destruction. He’ll lay siege to all Japan, perhaps even the world. Sukuna mentions how the golden age of demons will begin once again. 

You begin crying, but you can’t even tell if it’s from the overstimulation, the shame of letting him use you like this, or the guilt of bringing such a horrifying demon back to Earth. With one more rough thrust, you come undone again for the third time during the night. Sukuna follows right after you, pumping you full of his cum. There’s so much that you can already feel his seed leaking out of you.

Sukuna remains still, trying to catch his breath as you quietly sob against his chest. The demon rubs your head with surprising tenderness. 

“Don’t worry, pet. I promise I’ll spare you,” Sukuna says. “You’re mine now. No one else will ever touch you again.”

You hiccup through your tears as Sukuna’s words fill you with dread. It’s all your fault. He’s going to be reborn at full power and wipe out human civilization because of you. The guilt tears at your heart.

What have you done?

Sukuna can already feel his power returning to him. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll be unstoppable. Perhaps a couple of more days of indulging himself with your body will get the job done. He rubs your back, feeling how your sobs rack your body. Your tears only amuse him. Just another sign of how weak humans really are.

“Get ready for the new age, pet. And it’s all thanks to you.”

[skyloftian-nutcase]

WIP Wednesday

I don’t usually do WIP Wednesdays, but since I’ve got some people waiting on writing requests for Sicktember I figured I’d share WIPs for all the sickfics I’ve got so far!

Hyrule smiled reassuringly, swallowing by instinct and opening his mouth to speak, when his throat screamed in protest at the gesture. He grimaced again, gripping the nearby table and glaring at the wood. He held up a finger as Wild worriedly walked towards him, and then took a quick swig from his flask.

 That was a bad idea.

 As soon as the scalding peppermint-infused water hit the back of his throat, his entire body balked, his stomach twisted in protest, and Hyrule proceeded to vomit all over the floor.

 Sniffling, Hyrule rubbed the snot and bile from his face with his sleeve, mumbling, “Oops.”

  “Yikes,” Wild said softly as he walked over. “How about you sit down, Traveler? I’ll clean up the mess.”

.........

Warriors coughed again, feeling his chest rattle with congestion. He just couldn’t get the blasted stuff up.

 “That doesn’t sound fun.”

 Warriors sighed. He’d heard the oncoming footsteps and already had a hand on his sword, but the subtle drawl in the voice gave it away. Turning, he said, “Yes, well, it’s all right, Rancher. Just a cough.”

  “Uh huh,” Twilight huffed, crossing his arms. “I know. I’ve heard you coughing for the past couple of days. Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

.........

“Don’t you kiss me and give me your blasted man cold!” Malon yelled, swatting her husband away.

 Link laughed. “If you get it, at least then you’ll know my suffering!”

  “Oh, you!” Malon shoved him towards the door. “Get down there and help the boys!”

.........

Warriors was the first to notice.

 Approaching their leader, he asked, “Are you alright?”

 Time grimaced, rubbing his flank. “Yes. Just some back pain, nothing to worry about.”

 Wind gasped, his eyes wide. “Wow, you really are old.”

  Four choked on his water, nearly dropping his flask, as Time smiled good naturedly, ruffling Wind’s hair. “I can still manage despite my centuries, Sailor. Let’s keep moving.”

.........

Growing steadily more annoyed, the captain was going to argue when he felt his stomach roll. He stuttered, taking a step away. His head felt like it was being pinched by impossibly large fingers. He cradled his temple with massaging fingers, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth.

 Damn it, he was going to get passed this!

 “Smithy, help get the Captain to a bed, please.”

 Warriors peeled one eye open to protest, immediately regretted it, and closed it again. He felt Four’s small hand wrap around his right wrist, giving him a gentle tug.

  Helpless, the captain simply obeyed.

.........

He hated being sick.

 The grass crunched softly as it was pushed down by heavy footsteps. Legend squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to ignore it.

 “Veteran.”

 Sighing heavily, Legend twisted again, getting even more tangled, and saw Time staring at him. “You need something, Old Man? I’m a bit busy.”

 “Yes, I see how busy you are,” Time noted, his smile softening the concerned crease of his eyebrows. “Would you like to try some tea? I know a special blend that I was given when I couldn’t sleep.”

 “Oh, look who’s an herbalist now,” Legend huffed, frustrated and hurting and exhausted. He supposed he should be accepting, trying anything to actually get to sleep, but his stomach probably wouldn’t allow it anyway.

 “I dabble,” Time replied nonchalantly, unphased by the barbs thrown in his direction. “What usually helps you sleep?”

  Legend harumphed loudly, crossing his arms and looking away.

.........

No one said anything. No observations were made aloud. And Time didn’t admit to anything. Because he was fine.

 It was just a cold.

  And that was how it stayed until one day he woke up and felt like he’d been stepped on by an iron knuckle.

.........

Four hugged himself, looking at Time. “Is he going to be okay?”

 Time tried to give him a reassuring smile, but he didn’t really have an answer. He didn’t know what was wrong. He glanced at Hyrule, who shook his head.

 “I’ve gone through every elixir and herb I can think of,” Hyrule muttered, worried. “Whatever it is, it’s not a normal sickness.”

  Sky started to cry again, helpless and hurting, and Time had to walk away to compose himself.

[ginwalt]

Sleep (Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Y/N has been struggling with a case for three days and refuses to sleep until she gains headway. Natasha isn't having any of her crap and forces reader to sleep.

Warnings: Just fluff

Word count: 1,600

A/N: I originally posted this on my ao3 account and decided to post it here as well :)

It had been a week since the terrorist threats had been made on live television and three days since you had been assigned to finding information on the hostile organization known as Anubis. You were S.H.I.E.L.D's youngest and most skilled hacker. They had recruited you just over a year ago when your best friend, Peter Parker, suggested you to Nick Fury. You and Peter had met your freshman year of university; he was a smart young man, if a little goofy. The two of you hit it off immediately, and when he found out how skilled you were with computers, he immediately suggested you join S.H.I.E.L.D.

This seemed to have been a mistake considering you had been up for the better part of 72 hours and still haven't managed to get anything on these assholes. No matter how many times you analyzed the video, nor how many government databases and archives you cross-referenced, there was nothing about Anubis anywhere. The man in the video had been wearing an intricate black mask in the shape of a jackal, the animal symbol for Anubis, the god of death and mummification. You spent an entire evening alone researching Egyptian mythology and how the hell that could tie into a terrorist organization. However, seeing as Anubis has no digital trail or relation to any other hostile organization, your insomnia-addled brain failed to make any connections.

Groaning, you scrubbed at your face and took a sip of your now cold coffee. A total of four coffee cups, two Monsters, and a Redbull now lay empty on your desk. The caffeine did nothing for your exhaustion at this point; however, it was either that or go to sleep. You drained your coffee to the last drop.

Looking down at the bottom of your now empty Avengers mug, you sighed and stood from your desk. Shuffling out of your room, you trudged to the kitchen on the other side of your floor. You readily accepted Natasha's offer to share a floor with you in the tower back when the two of you first started dating. The prices of staying in the fancy university dormitories your school offered were outrageous, even for a S.H.I.E.L.D employee. You two often slept in Natasha's room, despite having a separate bedroom. Your eyes felt like lead at the memories of cuddling up with your girlfriend under a pile of blankets and pillows. Natasha usually did not like sleeping with more than a single blanket finding the heat stifling; however, she usually gave in easily when you pulled her down into the fluffy pile. Rubbing your eye with the side of your fist, you pushed the cozy memories aside and set your mug under the Keurig. Blindly you reached out to grab a coffee pod from a rack to the left of the coffee machine. Your drowsy limbs allowed the pod to slip from your fingers, rolling under the counter.

"Shit," you cursed, crouching down to look for the coffee. After a few moments of clumsily looking for the pod, you finally grasped it and went to stand.

"I've been looking for that shirt," a voice rasped sleepily.

You jumped and whirled around to see Natasha leaning against the kitchen counter. Her shoulder-length red hair was ruffled, and the plain black tank top she wore was askew. You looked down at the Captain America t-shirt that hung down to your bare thighs, "Didn't you steal this shirt from Steve?" you asked with a raised brow.

Natasha shrugged, "He never noticed, so it's mine fair and square."

Turning to face the coffee machine once again, you inserted the coffee pod and pushed the start button. "I'm not sure that's how it works." Natasha chuckled and strode up behind you. She wrapped her arms around your middle, kissing the side of your head. You hummed and leaned back against her, feeling the toned muscles of her stomach and biceps supporting you. She was firm but soft, like an expensive mattress. On lazy days you loved to read with your head resting against her chest. She would idly thread her fingers through your hair and listen to you softly whisper the words on the page. Sighing you, nuzzled the back of your head against the crook of her neck. Your eyes slipped shut as her fingers lightly traced your stomach.

"Where have you been? I have barely seen you these past three days."

"Busy with the Anubis case."

She spun you around lightly and inspected you, her brows furrowed slightly. "You look awful."

You snorted and nudged her, "Thanks, Babe."

She raised a brow, "When was the last time you slept?"

"I took a nap around lunch." You didn't mention that it had only been an hour long for fear of being on the receiving end of the assassin's wrath.

"Y/N..." she warned lightly. "you can't go that long without sleep. It isn't healthy."

You stepped away from her and shrugged, "I'm fine, I just need to clear a few more things up about these assholes, and then I will rest, I promise." You turned around and grabbed the steaming coffee cup. However, Natasha grabbed it from you and set it behind her on the counter. Groaning in protest, you went to reach behind her to grab it. "Nat, come on, I'm fine."

"You look terrible, Y/N," Natasha argued, grabbing your arms gently. "I know you want to prove yourself to Fury and the rest; however, you are of no use to anyone if you are too tired to do your job."

You huffed and looked down at the tiled floor beneath you. She was right, as always. Your mind was foggy and slow, making it hard to do anything productive. A couple of times, you drifted off at your desk. Not that you were going to admit any of that to her, though. "Fine, I will take a nap," you conceded, "But, you have to wake me up at 6. Got it?"

Natasha glanced at the oven clock that read 2:45 before nodding her agreement, "Alright, now let's get you to bed," She wrapped an arm around you and guided you to her room. Inside her sparsely decorated room, she had gathered three extra blankets as if knowing you were going to be joining her. You cursed her for being so persuasive. She laid down under the many blankets and gently pulled you down with her. The moment your body hit the mattress, you felt your body turn leaden. Relief crept through your bones as you leaned into the warm comfort. Natasha wrapped her arms around you and pulled your limp body against her front. You went slack as you felt her soft hands stroke up and down your sides. Your girlfriend pressed a kiss to the base of your neck and hummed contently. A cozy feeling settled in your chest as you let your eyes slip closed.

"One of these days, I'm going to convince you to let me be the big spoon," you joked drowsily.

She snorted and laid another kiss to the top of your head, "In your dreams." You rolled over and burrowed your head under Natasha's chin, her red curls tickling your cheeks. You wrapped an arm around her waist and slung a leg over her own. She chuckled and tightened her grip around you before tucking you more firmly against her. "You're too much of a koala to be a big spoon," she murmured against the top of your head. Her hand crept under your shirt and started tracing imaginary shapes against your back.

You huffed and nuzzled against the column of her neck. "We'll see," you slurred drowsily. Your eyes were now sealed shut with exhaustion and your limbs too heavy to move.

"Shhh, go to sleep," Natasha whispered, squeezing you gently.

"Remember, 6 am..." you trailed off to sleep before finishing the thought.

"We'll see," she murmured.

When you woke up, you found Natasha typing away on her laptop next to you. She wore different clothes than the ones she wore earlier that morning, sweatpants and a red hoodie. You groaned and sat up, rubbing your eyes. "I thought you were going to wake me up?" You questioned, shooting her an accusatory look.

Natasha looked up and smirked, "Oops, my bad. I guess I forgot," she shrugged innocently.

"Natasha, I was serious; I have so much work to do," you complained, moving to get out of bed. Checking the alarm clock on the bedside table, you gasped when it read 3 pm.

Before you could fully slip out from under the blankets, Natasha set her laptop aside and pulled you on top of her. You yelped in surprise as your head fell back onto her lap. "Come on, stay in bed with me. You have three hours until 6 anyways."

You scowled, "That is not the 6 o'clock I was referring to, and you know it."

Natasha grinned and shrugged, "You never specified; how was I supposed to know which one you were talking about?"

"You're an asshole," you complained.

She poked her lip out in mock sympathy and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "Oh, I know I'm terrible, aren't I? Making sure my girlfriend is well-rested and not overdosing on caffeine, simply awful."

"I'm glad you agree," you muttered, struggling to stand up off her lap.

Natasha wrapped two strong arms around your middle and pulled you further against her, "Come on, three more hours," she moved so that her lips grazed your ear, "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

You melted at her tone and sighed, "Fine, but if you don't wake me up at 6 pm, I swear I'm breaking up with you."

Your girlfriend kissed your cheek and nuzzled against you, "Sure you will."

[dreamerstreamer]

Greater Than Gold

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!baker!reader

Summary: [Robin Hood-inspired!AU] Dream steals from the rich and gives to the poor, but it seems he’s stolen your heart, too.

Warnings: minimal cursing + one scene with slight violence

Word Count: 11.7k

A/N: this idea came to me in a fever dream at two in the morning a few days back, and i just knew i had to write it. can you tell i like fantasy au’s? posted in commemoration of reaching 200 followers so quickly (love you all!) and for dream’s recently uploaded 4v1 finale :) i hope you enjoy!

You woke to the sound of chirping birds and the sun’s warm rays splashing onto your face.

With a soft groan, you rolled over, a hand reaching up to muss at your hair and rub the sleep from your eyes. Slowly, you brought yourself forward into a sitting position, blinking as you cast your gaze out the window. The sun was just beginning to rise over the rolling hills in the distance, washing the kingdom’s capital in a golden sheen. You swung your feet off your bed with a smile, breathing in deeply.

Another sunrise, another morning.

Your morning routine was almost always the same. You would stretch as you stood up, straightening out your back and letting out a sigh of relief as you did so. Then, you would fling open your bedroom door and slip own the stairs, skipping the last two and landing on the floor with a small thud. You quickly rushed over to the kitchen to grab the dough you had made the night before, slipping it into the stone oven with your trusty paddle.

Rushing back upstairs, you took a mental note of the time before walking over to your closet to get dressed for the day. You slipped on a simple dress that you wouldn’t mind getting a little messy and pulled on a pair of boots. Next, it was onto your hair. You spun over to your vanity, picking up a hairbrush and running it through your hair a few times.

Just then, a knock sounded at your balcony window. You froze, your fingers twitching around your hairbrush as you listened carefully.

Four short knocks. One long knock. Two short ones.

A giddy smile spread across your face. How could you ever forget your favourite part of your morning routine?

You set your hairbrush back on the vanity and crossed your bedroom to your balcony, opening the lock and flinging the door open. There on the railing sat a man wearing a viridian hooded cloak, his back facing you. The moment he heard you step outside, he turned, revealing the white, smiling mask covering his face.

“Clay,” you breathed, “you’re here.”

He quickly raised a finger and held it to his lips, hushing you. “Shh!”

You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Oops. I forgot. Sorry, Cl—I mean, Dream.” You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew that if you could, he would be frowning.

“Alright,” you huffed, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him onto his feet. “Let’s get you inside, already.”

Clay stumbled forward, looming over you as he followed you inside. You were quick to lock the balcony door behind you, double checking to make sure it was closed all the way. When you turned around again, Clay had his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping incessantly against your floorboards.

Oh boy.

“[Y/N],” he sighed, “you know you can’t call me that when I’m outside! Someone might hear and who knows what could happen after that.”

You winced at his tone. “I know. I’m really sorry, Clay. It’s just force of habit.”

He let out yet another sigh, but this one wasn’t full of frustration. Uncrossing his arms, he reached over and ruffled your hair. “I know you didn’t mean anything bad by it. Please just remember for next time, okay?”

You swatted his hand away from your hair, giggling. “Alright, alright, I promise.” You looked up at him, frowning at the sight of his mask, his hood half covering the top. “And let me take that off, would you? I miss your face.”

He nodded and straightened up, extending his full height. “Okay. I’m waiting.”

For a few moments, the two of you stared at each other. When he still hadn’t moved after another a bit, you groaned. “Come here,” you muttered under your breath.

You could almost hear him grin when he spoke. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said,” you repeated, a little louder this time, “come here.”

“Sorry, could you say that agai—”

You were running out of patience. “Come. Here.”

“Just one more ti—”

“Oh, just get down here already!” you shouted, stomping your foot.

He cackled as you whined at him, clutching at his stomach. “Haha! You’re so shooort,” he mocked. “You’re tiny.”

You glared at him. “It’s not my fault you’re built like a beanpole, my god.”

He held a hand up to his ear. “You called?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Clay.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, relenting and bending over. You rolled your eyes but smiled, reaching up. You first pulled back his hood, revealing his dirty blond hair. You ran a hand teasingly through his golden locks before letting it drop to the back of his mask, unbuckling the clasp holding the straps together. With a gentle, careful touch, you pulled the white mask away from his face, revealing his emerald green eyes and the splatter of freckles across his cheeks.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice slightly rasping.

“Hi,” you whispered back, entranced by his gaze.

He reached down and pulled the mask from your hand, letting it drop to the floor with a clatter before he wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you into an warm embrace, squeezing you tight and securely to his chest. You snuggled into his green cloak, inhaling the scent of fresh pine. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you simply took in each other’s presences. It was rare for the two of you to share a quiet moment, and you were going to relish in every second of it.

“I missed you,” you sighed into his chest, your voice coming out muffled.

“I missed you, too,” he murmured back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. There was a slight pause. Then, he pulled back a bit, placing his hands on your shoulders as he spoke again. “Why do you always act so surprised when you see me in the mornings? You know I always come by to say hello.”

You stiffened, averting your gaze from his. “It’s—it’s nothing, really.”

Clay frowned, pressing a hand to your cheek. “Hey,” he said gently, “look at me.”

You shook your head, subconsciously leaning into the warmth of his palm. He let out a quiet sigh. “Please, love? Will you please look at me?”

Your breath hitched at the pet name, and you finally relented, turning your head slightly so that your eyes met his. You pretended not to see the small smirk on his face at the sight of your fidgety gaze. He always knew how to make you flustered.

“I...” You took a breath, feeling something sting behind your eyes. “I get scared. That one day you won’t come by.” Your eyes began to water. “That one day something will happen to you and I’ll be all alone.”

As quick as it had come, Clay’s smile vanished. The look in his eyes softened and he leaned down to be eye-level with you. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” He brushed his thumb over your cheek, just where a tiny, single tear had escaped. “I’m sorry that I make you feel this way.”

You placed your hand on top of where his lay still pressed against your cheek, your gaze falling to the wooden floorboards. “No, it’s—it’s not your fault. I’m just scared that I’d be a wreck without you.”

Clay leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he said once more, so quietly you almost missed it. “Look at me, love.”

You raised your watery gaze to his emerald one once more, just in time for him to surge forward and press his lips to yours. Almost instantaneously, you melted like chocolate, your eyelids fluttering shut as you sank into his touch. Kissing Clay sent shivers running down your spine, yet it also felt like home. You didn’t think you could ever get tired of kissing him.

A moment later he pulled back, a soft smile gracing his lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his words reserved just for you to hear. “Not without you. Never without you, love.”

You nodded your head, wiping away any stray tears you may have had. “Thanks, Clay.” Suddenly, you were reminded of your bread in the oven downstairs. You took a quick glance at the clock, and nearly collapsed in relief. You were just in time.

“C’mon,” you said, tugging at his arm insistently, “the bread’s almost ready, and I have to open up shop soon. People will want their morning loaves.”

Clay hummed, his hand falling away from your face as he let you pull him downstairs and into your kitchen. “Open up shop, you say? Do you think you could spare me any scraps for my breakfast?”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re really here,” you said, feigning annoyance as you grabbed your baking paddle once more, this time using it to slide the now freshly baked bread from the oven.

“Of course!” he chimed, hoisting himself up to sit on the counter. “A man’s gotta eat to be able to stay on the run from the palace guards, y’know.”

You sighed as you slid the loaf of bread onto a platter. “I know, I know.” Setting down your paddle, you opened up one of your cabinets and pulled out a few slices of bread on a plate. “That’s why I have this for you.”

Clay’s eyes lit up as he graciously snatched the bread from you, immediately stuffing one of the slices into his mouth. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he said in between bites. “I love you so much.”

You jumped a little at his words, nearly dropping the loaf platter in your hands. Even after all this time, you still got embarrassed when he said it out of nowhere like that. “I love you too, Clay.”

You spent the next few minutes placing some bread in your shop’s display case and sliding some more dough into the oven while chatting with Clay. You lived for these quiet, domestic moments with him—these moments where you could pretend that you were just a humble baker in love with a normal, ordinary man.

But of course, Clay could never just be ordinary. Oh no, he had dreams far greater than that.

And you loved him for that, too.

“It’s time,” he said abruptly, startling you slightly. “I have to go.”

You nodded resolutely, slipping your hand into his. “I’ll see you off.”

In the past, he would have insisted that you stay downstairs, but he’s learned over time that you were far too stubborn for that. The two of you strode up the stairs to your bedroom once more, walking toward your bed with a slight sadness in your gait.

“You’ll come by in the morning again, won’t I?” you asked, looking up at him as he picked up his white mask from where it lay on the floor.

“For sure,” he said, sending you a reassuring smile. “And I’ll be here the morning after that, and the one after that, and the one after that, an—”

You snorted, swatting at his arm. “I get it, you doofus.” Your grin softened. “Thanks for saying that.”

He turned to lean down, pressing his lips to yours in a quick peck. “Anything for you, love,” he said, sliding his mask onto his face.

You smiled at him, walking him over to your balcony window. He slipped open the lock, pulling the door open to reveal the newly blue sky. People were beginning to head outside now, making way for the new day. He took a step outside, glancing over his shoulder at you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

It was never goodbye with Clay—he refused to say goodbye, because goodbye always meant there was a chance you wouldn’t see him again, and he refused to believe in a future without you.

You waved. “See you tomorrow, Dream.”

He let out a small wheeze as he leapt from your balcony, laughing as he landed on a nearby roof and sprinting to the next. Down below on the bustling streets, you heard someone yell.

“Oh my god, it’s Dream!”

“Someone call the guards!”

“He’s here, again!”

You grinned to yourself as you snapped your window shut. 

Yup, it was just a another morning.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Richardson!” you called out, waving goodbye to the man crossing the street. “Please tell your husband I hope he gets better soon!”

Mr. Richardson turned, a wide grin on his face as he clutched the brown bag in hands a little closer to his chest. “I will!” he shouted back. “I’ll be sure to bring him with me when he feels up to it!”

You watched as he turned the corner down the street, disappearing from view. You lowered your arm, smiling to yourself. I can’t wait.

You glanced up at the sky, shielding your gaze from the searing midday sun. It was about noon now. You supposed you could take your lunch break. Turning on your heel, you strode back inside your beloved bakery. You took a look around your bakery, eyeing the loaves in the display case. There were a few pies sitting up front, but those were strictly for customers.

“Do I really want to eat bread again, today?” you muttered to yourself. You quirked your lips. It wouldn’t hurt to go out and grab something to eat for once, right?

Before you could change your mind, you hastily rushed up the stairs to grab your woven basket from the shelf and a few gold coins from the locked chest in your bedroom. You stepped outside, sticking a note on the ‘open’ sign that said “Out for lunch—back in 30!” before locking the door shut.

It was a beautiful day, you realized as you made your way down the busy street. The merchants must have arrived the other day, since you could see numerous people rushing this way and that, scrolls of inventory lists clutched between their fingers and negotiations echoing all around you. You ducked your head under someone’s arm, dodging a rolling stray cart as you strode toward the city square.

What should I have for lunch? Your eyes darted this way and that. There’s soup, sausages, and... Your eyes lit up, and you began to weave your way between the crowds, humming softly to yourself as you made your way over to your favourite market stall.

“Hello, Rose!” you greeted, waving at the woman standing at the stall front, her back turned to you.

At the sound of your voice, she turned, her face lighting up with a wide grin. “[Y/N]!” she cried warmly. “It feels like it’s been ages since I last saw you!”

You chucked, flustered by her enthusiasm. “It hasn’t been that long. Only three weeks.”

“‘Only three weeks’?” she parroted. “Are you hearing yourself? Three weeks is practically forever!” She leaned over the stall counter. “Let me tell you, dearie, if I went three weeks without seeing my fiancé, I’d damn near lose my mind.”

You laughed at her and her theatrics. “I’m sure you’d survive just fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point, [Y/N]. Surviving and living are two very different things. You would understand if you were in love.” She squinted at you. “Speaking of which, when will you find yourself a man? You’re a lovely, beautiful girl with more than enough charm and spunk.”

Your cheeks burned. “I-I, um. That’s—” You coughed. “Um.”

She cocked her brow. “Yes? Spit it out!”

You buried your face in your hands. You didn’t want to lie to Rose of all people, but what in the world were you supposed to tell her? You couldn’t just...

“I, uh,” you blurted without thinking, “I’m seeing someone.”

Oh no.

Rose’s eyes grew wide and she nearly sent you flying to the ground with how hard she shook you. “You’re seeing someone?!” she yelled. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” She released your shoulders with one last shake, leaving you stumbling to regain your balance. “Tell me all about him.”

You twiddled with your fingers. “He’s... he’s kind,” you began, “and funny. Really funny. We’ve been friends for a long time before, too. He’s got a bit of an arrogant streak, but he’s actually really humble. He always makes me smile, and he loves to tease me.” You giggled. “Sometimes it’s just not fair how smooth he is.”

She looked at you smugly. “Sounds like you know him quite well.” She leaned across the counter. “What’s he look like? And his name? What’s his name?”

Panic shot through you. You didn’t want to reveal too much about Clay—what if you put him in danger? “We, uh, we’re not that serious yet,” you fibbed, “so I don’t want you to get your hopes up or anything. Seriously.”

Rose frowned, sinking down in disappointment. “Aw, phooey. That’s a shame. Well, if you don’t wanna talk about him, then we won’t.” Before you could open your mouth to respond, she waved her hand. “Moving past that, what are you here for, today?”

You held up your small pouch of coins. “I was hoping to have some of your famous rabbit stew for lunch today.”

Rose laughed, turning to grab you a wooden bowl from her stall shelf. “I’d hardly call it famous, but I appreciate your love, dearie.”

You gaped at her, shaking your head in disbelief. “Your rabbit stew is the best thing in the whole marketplace, I swear! It’s legendary. Even the king must know about its existence by now.”

She pointed to herself. “Me? Legendary? You flatter me far too much, [Y/N].” Scooping some stew into your bowl, she sent you an inquisitive smile. “But you know who is legendary?” 

You raised an eyebrow at her, pulling out a coin from your pouch and slipping it across the stall table. “Who?”

Rose handed you the bowl of rabbit stew with a spoon, tilting her head towards a poster on the wall next to her and speaking lowly. “Dream.”

You stiffened, your eyes darting to the poster. Sure as day, there was a picture of Dream’s smiling mask lying smack dab in the center of the page. Printed across the top in bold, black letters was the word “WANTED”. And just underneath his portrait...

“Dead or alive. $20,000 reward.”

You resisted the urge to shiver. “Y-Yeah,” you said slowly, sticking your spoon into the stew. “He sure is legendary, huh?”

Rose nodded. “Seriously. Since when else have you ever heard of a vigilante thief who steals from the rich and gives to the poor? It’s like... like...”

“Like?” you offered.

She gestured vaguely. “Like... morally questionable charity!”

You snorted. “That’s one way to put it, I guess.”

She leaned toward you, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But between you and me, I think he’s doing something pretty good for those struggling folks out there. Someone’s gotta help them, and it certainly isn’t going to be the king.”

You smiled at her words, nodding subtly in agreement. Despite having been branded a criminal by the kingdom’s nobility and royalty, a good majority of the general population loved Dream. His methods were most definitely questionable, but he had never hurt anyone for real, despite more than looking and acting the part. He held the torch of hope that no one else seemed to be willing to take on themselves, and they adored him for that. You did, too.

“Anyway,” Rose continued, speaking normally now, “did you hear him this morning? He caused quite the ruckus.”

Your lips twitched, but you quickly forced your face back into an expression of indifference, hiding your amusement with another spoonful of rabbit stew. “Did he now?” 

“Oh, you should have seen the chaos!” She spun around dramatically, her arms flying out. “He must have taken at least two chests’ worth of gold with him! He was gone before anyone knew what was happening. It was insane. George couldn’t even get close to him.”

You furrowed your brows. You didn’t recognize that name. “George?” 

Rose blinked at you. “You haven’t heard? The king got four new guards recently—special ones, apparently.” She snorted. “They don’t seem like much so far though, not with this morning’s performance.”

You felt a tinge of anxiety fill you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust that Dream could handle it, but you were still worried. Hell, you had every right to be worried. “Tell me about them. It feels like I’ve missed everything.”

“So,” she began, “there’s—”

All of a sudden, the endless wave of chatter surrounding you seemed to die down. Rose stopped, and you turned to face the rest of the square. Everyone seemed to have grown quiet, keeping to the sides of the market square and warily eyeing the main entrance. You followed their gaze, your eyes widening.

At the front entrance was a large carriage, manned by four chestnut horses. There was a large wagon cart carrying large cloth sacks attached to the carriage’s behind. Flanking the cart stood four men, each wearing a different colour. They looked to be armed to the teeth, bows and arrow quivers strapped to their backs with swords sheathed at their sides.

Something clicked in your head, and you turned back to Rose. “Let me guess—those are the new guards.”

Rose nodded. “Yep,” she confirmed, popping the last letter. She pointed to the man in blue, a brunet with a pair of white goggles resting on his forehead. “That one there is George,” she explained, “the cautious. He’s always careful when hunting Dream down, trying to minimize property damage and all that.” You hummed, following along.

“Unfortunately, all that caution is for nothing because of Sapnap—” She pointed to the one wearing white, a bandana tied around his forehead to keep his dark hair from hanging in his eyes. “—the wild. He’s kind of just this chaotic mess. He crashes into things a lot, and some stall owners aren’t all too pleased with that. He almost knocked into my stall this morning, and I nearly gave him a good telling off!” You laughed at the thought, imagining Rose yelling at the poor guard.

“He’s not dumb though, don’t get me wrong. But he’s not as smart as Bad, the strategic.” She gestured to the brunet in red. “He’s kind of the leader of the group, and he’s probably gotten the closest to actually touching Dream before.” Your froze at that, your fingers freezing where they were wrapped around the spoon handle. Dream had almost been touched before. The thought didn’t sit well with you.

“Last up,” she said, pointing to the one wearing a cream sweater, “there’s Antfrost, the well-rounded. He’s cautious, but isn’t afraid to get his hands a little dirty, and he’s intelligent in his own right, but not as much as Bad. A lot of the time, he sort of acts like support, shooting from the distance with his bow.” You didn’t like the idea of Dream getting shot at, but you stifled your noise of concern with another mouthful of stew.

“Huh,” you said between chewing. “Why are they following that carriage? Is there someone important inside?”

Rose frowned. “Yeah, it’s the Duke of Sherwood. He’s a merchant who’s notorious for scamming the people he trades with for enormous amounts of wealth. That’s how he got so rich.” She narrowed her eyes. “I think he just got back from another one of his deals. Bet he’s got some crazy valuable stuff in that cart of his. I heard that he’s pretty close with the king, so he probably hired the new guards to protect it.” 

Something in you filled with disgust. Scammers were just the worst. They gained their wealth unjustly, and they were easily one of the top reasons why Dream did what he did. You opened your mouth to retort when someone let out a scream.

“Is that Dream?”

Your eyes widened.

You nearly spoke too soon.

Before the guards could properly process what was going on around them, a green-clad figure came flying down from one of the roofs above. Murmurs from the crowd rose up, whispers of his name filling the air. Dream picked up a rock from the ground, tossing it in his hands once before chucking it at Bad. With a satisfying thunk, the stone knocked against Bad’s forehead, and the man let out a yelp.

“Ow!” he cried, rubbing at his forehead. He whirled, glaring at his teammates. “What are you muffins doing? Get him!”

The three other guards suddenly snapped to attention, marked by Sapnap rushing forward with his sword unsheathed. “Dream!” he yelled, his teeth bared menacingly.

Dream didn’t flinch as he dodged Sapnap’s charge, simply stepping to the side with grace before spinning around and raising his foot. Without even an ounce of hesitation, he kicked Sapnap squarely in the back, sending him flying into the alleyway behind him. Sapnap tumbled forward, landing squarely facedown inside a barrel, his sword lying on the ground a few feet behind him. Dream leaned forward and knocked the sword into the air, watching it flip around once before catching it by the handle.

The sound of a bow firing suddenly filled the air, and Dream quickly ducked. An arrow whizzed just above his head, embedding itself in the wall where he was standing just milliseconds prior. He turned, the eyes of his mask making contact with those of Antfrost, who had climbed to the top of the carriage with his bow in hand.

“You can’t run now, Dream!”

Dream’s gaze darted to his sides. To his left stood George, and to his right was Bad. Behind him, he could hear Sapnap stringing his bow, and Antfrost was still perched on top of the carriage, bow drawn. They had him cornered.

You felt like you were about to faint.

Biting your lip nervously, you could practically see the gears in Dream’s head whirring as he stood there, surrounded on every side. Without warning, he abruptly darted forward, sword in his hands. You watched in a panic as Bad and George darted after him, Antfrost letting another arrow fly. 

All of a sudden, Dream changed directions, flying toward George. The panic in George’s eyes was practically tangible as Dream knocked the sword out of his hands and stepped behind him. With one hand, he easily grabbed the shorter man’s arms and pinned them to his back. With the other, he tossed Sapnap’s sword behind him. In the blink of an eye, he was pulling out a dagger from his boot and holding it up to George’s throat.

It all happened in less than a handful of seconds, and everyone held their breath, thinking the exact same thing.

Holy shit.

“No one move,” Dream said, loud and clear. “If you do, then you know what happens.”

Deep down, you knew that Dream wouldn’t do it. But you also knew very well that he was more than capable of it, and then some.

You watched with bated breath as Antfrost and Bad lowered their weapons, but Sapnap still had his bow aimed at Dream. George opened his mouth and closed it like a fish out of water, clearly struggling for words.

“Dream,” he managed after a few seconds, “you don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, I don’t?” he hummed, holding the dagger a little closer to George’s throat. “It’s totally not like you guys are trying to kill me. Not at all.”

“Dream,” Sapnap shouted from the alleyway, “let him go.” He closed one eye, aiming steadily. “I’ll shoot, I swear.”

Dream chuckled, clearly amused. “You sure you wanna do that, Snapmap? Think carefully, now.”

Fury filled Sapnap’s gaze, and he snarled. “Call me that one more time and we’re gonna have issues.”

“What, Snapmap?”

The arrow went flying. You held back a scream.

Dream expertly stepped to the left, edging slightly closer to the carriage wagon. Holding George in front of him, a hush fell over the crowd as the arrow just barely grazed George’s arm. Sapnap drew another arrow.

“Shoot at me one more time,” Dream said lowly, the amusement vanishing from his voice, “and next time I won’t dodge. Why would I?” He nudged George. “After all, I have my own personal human shield right here.”

Sapnap lowered his bow. Relief welled up in your chest.

Slowly and carefully, Dream made his way over to the carriage, making direct eye contact with each member of the guard every few steps to confirm that their weapons were still lowered. Rather than entering the carriage, where you were almost certain the Duke of Sherwood was cowered in terror, he strode over to the wagon, hopping onto the ledge with his dagger still held against George’s neck.

There was a beat of silence as Dream stood over his grand treasure, five sacks of what was most definitely shining gold coins and gems. 

Then Antfrost drew his bow, aiming it directly at Dream’s head. 

No—!

But before he could even fire it, Dream hoisted George in his arms and chucked him over at the archer. George and Antfrost let out simultaneous screams as the former smacked into the latter, knocking them both off the carriage and onto the cobblestone ground. 

Without pause and still protected by the looming form of the carriage, Dream quickly hauled two of the sacks of wealth into his arms, slinging them over his back. Working quickly, he climbed on top of the carriage, eyes scanning the perimeter for the nearest exit path. While Antfrost and George still lay on the ground, struggling to regain their composure, Bad was already scrambling towards the carriage from the other side of the market square and Sapnap was preparing to fire another arrow.

“Oh my god, get him!” Bad screeched, stumbling over the bodies of his two friends. “Get off the ground, will you?”

“I’m trying!” George cried, knocking Antfrost’s bow from off his head. “You do realize that I was just held hostage, right? Cut me some slack!”

“Doesn’t matter, just get him!” Sapnap screamed, finally shooting.

Dream dodged the arrow with ease, and like a bolt of lightning, he was propelling himself through the air. He landed on a nearby stall roof, pausing for a split second before leaping forward onto the closest roof. Now far out of reach from Bad, he dodged another one of Sapnap’s arrows before sprinting away, the bounty in his hands buckling as he ran, quickly disappearing from view.

You could hardly believe your eyes. This was hardly the first time you had ever seen Dream fight, but this was definitely the most nerve-wracking encounter you had ever had the chance of seeing.

“Bad,” Antfrost heaved, tossing George’s sword over to him, “he went that way!” He pointed east, his face contorted in irritation. “We gotta go! Now!” In a flurry of movement, the four guards began their mad after Dream. It was only a few moments before they too were out of sight.

A heartbeat passed.

Then the silence that had befallen the market square was shattered as everyone began to chatter about the events that had just conspired.

“That was insane! How much do you think he stole?”

“Dream’s never taken an active hostage before, has he?”

“He had to! What else was he going to do? Fight four to one?”

“He probably could.”

“I can’t believe he actually got away!”

You turned to look at Rose, whose jaw was dropped wide open. “Oh. My god,” she breathed in complete and utter disbelief. “That—he’s so cool.”

You laughed. Oh, he was. He really was.

It was then that the carriage door finally moved, opening to reveal the Duke of Sherwood. He was an old, cranky-looking man, his salt and pepper hair marred with a bald patch in front and thin wiry glasses perched on his crooked nose.

“I—” he sputtered, his knees buckling in horror as he gasped at his nearly half-ransacked wagon. “The absolute nerve of that thief! He stole from me, of all people! How dare he? He scammed me!”

Not like you do the same for a living, you thought to yourself in disgust. You have no right to say such a thing. 

Shaking your head, you turned away from the duke and let out a sigh of relief. You were just glad that Dream made it out alive and with his treasure in tow. You smiled to yourself. Knowing him, he was going to give it to that orphanage on the south side of town. You had recently heard they were running out of funds to pay for bedding for the children. 

Rose’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “I wonder what Dream looks like,” she mused, still gazing at the whining duke. “He’s just so mysterious.”

You looked down at your hands, thinking about how just morning, they had been holding his—big, warm, and perfectly wrapped around yours.

Green eyes. A dazzling smile. A galaxy of freckles.

“He must be handsome,” you said, your lips curling. “I’m sure.”

You yawned, slipping your nightgown over your figure in a sleepy daze. It had most certainly been a long day. You had sold more bread than you had expected and ate some delicious rabbit stew.

Oh, and you also witnessed Dream fight against four people at once.

Yeah. Definitely a long day.

You sat in front of your vanity, picking up your hairbrush from its holder. Running it through your hair, you began to brush out the knots as you thought about the day’s events, staring at the single candle you had sitting next to the mirror. You had been terrified out of your mind when you saw Dream get cornered by the guards. Your heart had leapt into your throat and it almost felt like you couldn’t breathe.

To everyone else, he was either Dream the thief or Dream the vigilante hero, but to you, he was just Clay—

A knock came from your balcony window.

—the love of your life.

You stiffened, your hand freezing halfway through brushing your hair. Clay never came by at night. Holding your breath, you listened.

Four short knocks. One long knock. Two short ones.

Your hairbrush clattered to the ground as you scrambled to your feet.

It looked like your day wasn’t over quite yet.

You were quick to flip open the lock, only fumbling once before you managed to successfully swing the door open. There he sat on your balcony railing, just like he always did. Except this time, instead of the sun framing his head, it was the moon.

“C—” You caught yourself. “Dream?”

He tilted his head at you. “Hi.”

You didn’t hesitate to grab him by the arm and pull him inside, pushing the widow door shut with your leg. “Wh-What are you doing here?” you stammered, your mind was still reeling from the fact that he was standing in front of you at all.

“What?” he said nonchalantly while leaning over you, like this was normal. “I can’t come see my favourite girl?”

You smiled at that, something light and airy bubbling in your chest, but shook your head. “No, it’s not that,” you said, reaching up to unmask him, “it’s just that you only come by in the morning. Before everyone is awake.” You unclasped his mask, pulling it away from his face and tossing it onto your vanity. His green eyes were fond when they met yours, and you felt yourself melt a little.

“Well,” he drawled, grinning slyly, “I got a little present for you, and it just couldn’t wait until morning, so I waited until everyone went to sleep.” His eyes flashed. “Everyone but you.”

You blinked at him, confusion gracing your features. A gift?

He straightened, spinning his finger. “Turn around and close your eyes, okay?” When you just stared at him, he added pleadingly, “It’s a surprise.”

Your lips quirked as you did as he asked, turning around and letting your eyes fall shut. I wonder what it is. It wasn’t often that Clay brought you gifts. Not that he didn’t want to—oh, no. If he could, you had a feeling that Dream wouldn’t hesitate to shower you in literal piles of presents. He just thought that it wouldn’t be right for him to spend the money he stole on himself and his own desires when there were people out here who had far, far less.

You felt him brush your hair away from your neck, something cold falling onto your collarbone. The cogs in your head turned, and then it suddenly clicked.

Is that...?

“Okay,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “You can open your eyes, now.”

You blinked, your vision readjusting to the brightness of the room before you looked down. You were right. Around your neck delicately lay a necklace. The chain was a stunning sterling silver, and in the center hung a small emerald pendant—the same shade as Clay’s eyes.

“So, do you like it?”

You turned, the widest grin plastered across your face.

“I love you.”

Now, it was his turn to be dumbfounded, blinking at you in a stunned silence, his lips parted in surprise. With a giggle, you threw yourself in his arms, pressing your face to his chest.

“W-What?” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you.

You tilted your head up to look at his face. His freckles really did look like stars. “Didn’t you hear me? I said I love you, Clay.”

He blinked again. “No, I—” He stopped, then smiled. “I love you too, [Y/N].”

Holding onto his arms for support, you leaned up on your toes, pecking him sweetly. He followed after your lips when you pulled away, still smiling when you stood flat on the ground once more.

“So, what spurred this on?” you asked, your eyes shining in the darkness. “Did you decide to finally do something for yourself, for once?”

He chuckled. “Let’s just say that the orphanage governess saw me eyeing this one emerald and told me to keep it.” You felt him shake his head above you. “Wouldn’t take no for an answer. She reminded me of you.”

You laughed. “I’m glad to hear that you still think of me even when talking to other women.”

He smirked. “That’s ‘cause I’m always thinking about you.”

Somehow, he could still see the way your cheeks burned in the dimness of your room, your lips curling into a dizzy grin. He let out a wheeze at your expression, hugging you close again. “I’m not lying, you know.”

You smiled despite your embarrassment. “Yeah, I do.”

It seemed that every quiet moment the two of you got, you spent hugging. Not that you were complaining, really. It felt good to feel him in your arms and to feel his arms around you. You felt safe. Warm. Protected. Loved. This was everything you could have ever wanted.

A few more moments passed in silence before he said, “I should go.”

Your fingers tightened around his cloak. Of course he had to. He always had to, you knew this.

So why did it still hurt so much?

He pulled away from you, brushing a hand over your cheek. “I promise I’ll still come by tomorrow, so don’t miss me too much.”

Pecking your forehead affectionately once more, he took a step back, reaching for his mask. You frowned. “I miss you already,” you said, “and you haven’t even left yet.”

He stiffened at that, his hand stopping before it could reach his mask as he turned to look at you. You were gazing at him sadly, something yearning eating away at the inside of your chest.

“Hey,” you said softly. “Why don’t you stay the night? My bed has enough room for the both of us, if you don’t mind squeezing a little, since you’re so tall.”

Clay returned your sad gaze. “I shouldn’t.”

“You know,” you murmured, “you’re allowed to be a little selfish, Clay.” You looked down and fiddled with the necklace around your neck. “This is proof of that.” You glanced back up at him. “I’m proof of that.”

He didn’t move.

“Please, love?” you whispered.

He swallowed.

You were beautiful while standing in the moonlight and the waning candlelight. You were beautiful while wearing your nightgown. You were beautiful inside out, and he loved you.

And he gave in.

“Okay,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But only because you look so pretty in that necklace, just like I knew you would.”

Yeah, you were beautiful while blushing with a wide smile, too.

That night, you fell asleep with your head on Clay’s chest and his arms encasing you. 

Safe. Warm. Protected. Loved. 

Now, this was everything you could have ever wanted.

You don’t think you had ever slept as well as you did last night in your entire life. Waking up with Clay’s face next to yours was a blessing you could only hope you would get to experience at least once more in your life. You spent your morning in a love-filled daze, full of giggles and soft kisses pressed to lips, cheeks, and hands.

Oh, what you wouldn’t give to spend everyday like this.

Your “see you tomorrow” this morning was more somber than most, but you still managed to smile through it. After all, you had been graced with the most wonderful of mornings—that was more than enough to make up for the pain of separation.

Not wanting to ruin the good mood you had been put in, you went out for lunch once more. You stopped by the florist’s on your way out, purchasing a few lilies as a little treat for yourself before continuing on your way. It wasn’t long before you were walking up to Rose’s stall with an extra spring in your step, your flower-filled basket swinging by your side.

“Hello, Rose!” you said in a sing-song voice, setting your basket on the stall counter with a grin.

Rose turned with a grin. “Why, is that you, [Y/N]? Two days in a row? Today must be my lucky day.” She looked at you quizzically. “You seem rather chipper today.” 

You hummed. “Do I?”

Her glittering eyes bore into yours, flickering with recognition. “Oh, I see, now. It must be that boy of yours that’s got you so bright.”

Your hand instinctively went to the necklace around your neck, playing with the emerald pendant. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said.

She pointed at your necklace, her eyes practically bulging out of her head. “Well, would you look at that! He must have given that to you! That’s the only reasonable explanation.” She crossed her arms over her chest, nodding triumphantly. “Yes, that must be it, I’m sure of it.”

You didn’t even bother trying to deny it. She was right, and you were in too good of a mood to stop her. “You’re sure?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she confirmed. “I know what a lovestruck girl looks like when I see one, and you’re the very definition of one right now.”

You sputtered at her words. “Wha—that’s—”

She cackled at you. “Exactly, my dear. Exactly.” She turned and grabbed a wooden bowl for you, already reaching for her pot. “Tell me more about him, will you? I’m so curious to hear what you have to say.”

You smiled, slapping another coin onto the table. A little chit chat wouldn’t hurt. And so, you spoke while you ate, sharing every small insignificantly significant detail you knew about Clay with Rose.

He has a laugh like a tea kettle. He loves cats. He’s a good singer, but sings horribly on purpose to make me laugh. His heart is too big for his own good. He’s smarter than anyone I know, and cleverer than most. He’s amazing. I love him.

By the time you finished your rabbit stew, you were quite certain you were even more in love with Clay, if that was even possible.

“He’s a keeper,” Rose said resolutely, her gaze fond as she listened to you ramble. “I’m telling you, he is. If he doesn’t marry you, he’ll be making a big mistake.”

Your face heat up at the idea, but you didn’t say anything. Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad idea, getting marrie—

The whinny of a horse interrupted your thoughts, and you turned to look behind you.

Four horses had just trotted into the market square, each one manned by a man wearing a specific colour. Your stomach knotted with nervousness.

The four new palace guards—what were they doing here?

You and Rose watched in confusion as the four men leapt off their horses, sharing a brief look with one another before parting ways. Each man walked off in a different direction to a different part of the square, immediately starting up a conversation with the nearest available people. 

And to your surprise, it seemed that George was walking straight toward the two of you.

The knot in your stomach tightened. This wasn’t good.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted when he arrived, smiling at the two of you kindly. “My name is George. You may recognize me as one the four new palace guards.” 

Rose bowed, lowering her gaze politely. “Welcome to my simple stall, Sir George. I am Rose Dubois, at your service.”

George bowed back. “As am I, miss. And please, call me George.”

When he rose, he turned to come t his gaze directly with yours, and your palms began to sweat where they gripped onto your basket. However, you did your best to behave benevolently. You wouldn’t give him any reason to suspect you. Giving him a curtsy, you introduced yourself. “It’s an honour to meet you, Sir George. My name is [Y/N].”

He smiled warmly at you. “I assure you, the formalities are not necessary, miss. You may simply call me by my name.”

You smiled back, clenching your first behind your back. “I insist.”

“Where do you work, miss [Y/N]?” he inquired. “You don’t seem to own a stall in the marketplace.”

You shook your head, plastering the smile to your face the best you can. “Oh, I own the bakery a few blocks away. I simply venture out to treat myself for lunch every once in a while.”

Rose laughed. “‘Every once in a while’ is an overstatement, believe me, sir. She hardly ever comes out, let alone for lunch!”

George’s lips twitched upward. “I’m sure it must be busy running a bakery by yourself.”

You chuckled, trying not to sound awkward. “It is, but the customers are more than kind enough to me, and I love my work. It’s nothing that I can’t handle.”

He bobbed his head. “That’s good.” The smile suddenly fell from his face, and you felt the anxiety rise in you. “I hate to change the tone of this conversation so abruptly, but I actually wanted to ask the two of you a question.”

You gulped. Keep your cool, [Y/N], you reminded yourself. Just keep it together and you’ll be okay. It’ll be easy!

“Do you two happen to know anything about Dream? Anything at all. My men and I are doing some investigating.”

Okay, maybe not so easy.

“I know some things,” Rose explained, “but not a whole lot.” She told him what she knew of Dream’s actions, but couldn’t elaborate beyond his a mere handful of examples before she ran dry. In the meantime, you were doing your best to calm your breathing, fiddling with the lilies in your basket.

“Thank you, miss Rose,” George said when she finished. He then turned to you. “As for you, miss [Y/N]? Do you happen to have any information you could share with me?”

Rose answered him before you could. “Oh, I swear,” she laughed, “the girl’s about as clueless as a toddler. It’s because she never goes out, the young thing. She didn’t know of your existence until I told her about you. You won’t get anything out of her, I can assure you that, sir.”

George frowned. “I see.” His gaze fell down to your collarbone. “That’s quite the necklace you’ve got there.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Might I ask where you got it from?”

Once again, you didn’t get the chance to respond.

“It’s a gift from her lover!” Rose supplied cheerfully. “Isn’t it just beautiful? He really is a wonderful man.”

You pretended to be embarrassed and that you didn’t want to hide and scream in a hole. “Rose!” you hissed, feigning a flustered expression. “I’m sure Sir George here doesn’t want to hear all about my love life!”

The guard laughed, the tiniest wave of relief washing over you. “Oh, it’s alright. Everyone loves love.” His mouth closed into a smile, but it was slightly off. “Say hello to your lover, then. From me to him.” His eyes glinted with something you couldn’t quite name. “Tell him he’s got good taste.”

You were almost positive that your blood had turned into ice in your veins by now, but you simply nodded and smiled. “I will! I’m sure he’ll be honoured to have been thought of by you, sir.”

He chuckled. “Oh, it’s nothing, I assure you.” He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “Well, I’m afraid my time is up here, ladies, and I must go.” He bowed down once more. “It was a pleasure speaking to you both.”

The two of you sank into curtsies in farewell, waving him goodbye and watching as he rejoined the rest of his teammates, chatting amicably with one another. Rose let out a sigh where she stood behind her stall, completely unaware of the terror that was gripping your heart.

“He was so polite! And quite handsome, as well. If I wasn’t so very much in love with my fiancé, perhaps I would have liked him, too.” She spared a glance at you, blinking at you inquisitively. “You aren’t getting any second thoughts about your boy, are you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course not! I was just thinking that I should head back. My lunch break is over, anyway.”

Rose smiled at you wistfully. “Do come back soon, will you?”

You sent her a bright smile. “Sure thing.”

Gripping your basket tightly, you waved her goodbye as you strode out of the marketplace back towards the bakery. Your heartbeat rang wildly in your ears, sounding like a siren you couldn’t shut off. 

You had to get home. You wanted nothing more than to see Clay. There was no way this was happening—no way. This had to be some sick dream. Yeah, you were actually just at home, still lying warm and safe in bed with Clay. Totally. For sure.

Oh, who were you kidding? This was real life, and you were absolutely terrified.

You went home that day with a lump in your throat and an uneasy, sinking feeling in your gut.

I’m sorry, Rose, you thought. 

You weren’t going to go back to the marketplace for a while.

The next morning couldn’t have come by any slower. You had tossed and turned all night, anxiety clawing at the back of your mind like some wicked beast that would just not leave you alone. When you finally awoke to sunrise, you practically leapt out of bed, your hand immediately flying up to the necklace around your neck. You had yet to take it off, and you highly doubted that you ever would at this point.

You practically flew through your morning routine, rushing through every step before slowly picking up your hairbrush. Clay always interrupted you while you brushed your hair. You felt your lips curl in anticipation. You couldn’t wait to see him, again.

So you waited.

And waited

And waited.

You didn’t know how long had passed. The sun had long risen by now, and Clay still hadn’t knocked.

You sat on your bed, your hairbrush lying abandoned in your lap. You felt the back of your eyes sting with unshed tears. You knew you had to open up shop. Hell, the bread was probably burnt in the oven by now. You still had some dough leftover though, so you weren’t all that concerned. 

About the bread, that was.

He wasn’t gone, you just knew it. He was just... busy, this morning. Yes, that was it! He was just busy. He had to be.

You wiped your dry eyes with the back of your hand, taking a deep breath before standing up. A new sense of resolve filled you, and you were not about to abandon hope so easily.

Perhaps he would appear at your balcony when night came.

You could wait until nightfall.

You had to.

The day had dragged like a wheel stuck in mud. Everything passed in a haze, like nothing mattered at all without Clay. You still managed to do everything successfully, smiling at customers and asking regulars about their day without slipping up even once. You even had a whole, functional conversation with Mr. Richardson and his husband! And yet you felt as though something was terribly off, like there was this gaping hole in your being.

You were right—you were a wreck without him. A complete and total wreck.

That night, you trudged upstairs with a heavy heart, slipping off you clothes in favour of your nightgown. You had just lit a candle and picked up your hairbrush when you stopped. Your ears perked up, listening for any sounds, any at all.

You were met with silence. No knocks. No tea kettle laughter. Nothing.

You wanted to cry.

Setting down your hairbrush, you took in a shaky breath, walking over to your balcony window. A part of you desperately hopes to catch even just a glimpse of his green cloak, the one you had lovingly stitched by hand for him. But deep down, you knew the reality of things.

You flipped open the lock and watched as the door swung open, gazing out at your empty balcony and the quiet night sky. Just as you expected, he wasn’t here. Why wasn’t he here? 

You missed him so, so much.

Just as you were about to go back inside, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye. You stopped, turning. 

There, tied to your balcony railing with a green ribbon, was a folded piece of parchment.

You heartbeat sped up.

Could it be...?

You scrambled forward, making quick work of the ribbon and grabbing the paper, rushing back inside before the biting, night wind could nip at your skin. You locked the window behind you before you settled down onto your bed. Your fingers shakily unfolded the page you held, the handwritten words unveiling themselves to you.

[Y/N],

Hi, love. I hope I haven’t worried you too much. I saw George talking to you in the marketplace yesterday, and I was terrified he would do something to you if he knew that you were involved with me, let alone my lover. I won’t be dropping by in the mornings anymore. I’m sorry, love. I can only hope that you’ll understand. I’ll do my best to leave you a note every night, though. Rest assured that I’m safe and sound. Please wait for me.

I love you, [Y/N]. More than you know.

Yours truly,

Dream

You traced the crease lines with your finger, your eyes reading over every word he wrote once, twice, thrice, absolutely committing them to memory. You leaned back on your bed, the tiniest of smiles coming to your face. Of course he wouldn’t write his real name—hell, at this point, you were starting to believe you were the only one who even knew his real name. But that didn’t matter. There were more important matters at hand, now.

He hadn’t left you. You weren’t alone.

Without a doubt, you would wait for him.

You would gladly wait for an eternity and then some if you had to.

Three weeks passed without any sight of Clay.

Knowing you couldn’t keep hiding forever, it took you a while to muster the courage to return to marketplace once more. Rose nearly threw a fit when you did, crying about how you had broken your promise to return more often.

“I never promised, though,” you reminded her.

She sniffled dramatically. “That doesn’t mean you didn’t break my heart.”

It was difficult going through all the motions of your everyday life without seeing Clay, but you trudged onward with each new day. However, there came nights that you spent simply staring blankly at your ceiling. How much longer could you go on without your favourite part of your day?

Rose wasn’t kidding when she said that three weeks could feel like forever.

While it was impossible for you to even catch a glimpse of Clay, you don’t think you had ever seen Dream as much as you did now.

From whispers of his name in your bakery to wanted posters of him on the wall, Dream appeared all around you. You even saw him dart through the square, sacks of gold coins bouncing against his side and chests filled to the brim treasure hoisted in his arms as he ran from the guards. it was almost as if he was suddenly everywhere around you, and yet nowhere at all. Each time you caught sight of your green-clad lover, something squeezed deep in your chest. You wanted Clay, not Dream, but you could wait. You promised you would wait, and you had no intention of breaking that promise.

With due time, your favourite part of your day slowly transformed into your favourite part of the night. As closing hours ticked closer and closer by, your body would grow giddy with excitement. Your feet would tap and you would hum to yourself more often. Even some of the customers began to notice.

“You always look so excited at the end of the day,” Mr. Richardson had once joked. “Are you really that happy to leave me?”

You had simply smiled at him, your expression earnest and wistful. “No, I’m just excited to see someone important to me.”

Every night after closing up shop and wiping down all the counters, you would scramble to your bedroom, slipping in your nightgown before rushing to your balcony window. And every night without fail, a smile would light up your face when you saw the folded parchment tied to your railing. Reading Clay’s letters next to the fading candlelight of your bedroom left you feeling a little less lonely than the hours just before. You kept his letters in a small box hidden deep within your floorboard and would slip them in before you went to bed, but some morning you would find that you fell asleep re-reading his words over and over again. 

You couldn’t wait until the moment you could see him again.

What you didn’t know was that that moment was coming much sooner than you expected.

You woke to the sound of a creaking railing and knocking on wood.

With a deep groan, you rolled over, blinking the sleep away from your eyes from where you lay. Oh so slowly, you sat up, letting out a quiet yawn as you glanced out the window.

It was pitch black outside.

Confusion muddled your foggy brain, your head still half-asleep in the bed on which you sat. You cast your gaze toward the clock beside your bed, squinting at the time through the dark.

It was half past two in the morning.

There was another creak, then came more knocking. Your head turned towards the sound, your mind slowly whirring to life as it tried to decipher the sounds it was hearing.

Just what was that noise?

For a brief moment, there was silence. Then you heard it, again.

Four short knocks. One long one. Two short ones.

You fell out of your bed, dragging the covers down with you.

No way.

You waited again, listening carefully.

Once again: four short knocks. One long one. Two short ones.

Tears sprung to your eyes.

It was him.

You practically sprinted across your bedroom, nearly tripping over your own blankets as you scrambled to reach the balcony window. You flipped open the lock in record time, practically slamming the door open.

There he sat on the railing, his green cloak wrapped around him and his white smiling mask hiding his face from view. Behind him, the stars twinkled in the murky night sky, blinking like tiny beacons of hope. 

“Clay,” you said breathlessly, not bothering to correct yourself. “You’re here.”

He pulled his mask away from his face, his emerald eyes flashing like gems in the starlight as he stood. “I’m here.”

You stumbled forward, your hands desperately reaching for him in the darkness. Without missing a beat, he met you halfway, his hands wrapping around yours. For a second, the two of you simply stared at one another, soaking in the other’s presence.

Then your lips were mashed against his, his hands in your hair and his tongue prodding at yours and god, you loved him, you loved him, you loved him. 

You love him.

The two of you separated with a gasp, your eyes gazing into one another’s. For a second, all was still. The rest of the world fell away, and all you could focus on was the sound of his breaths and his face so close to yours.

“Hey,” he said softly, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Hi,” you whispered back, a lovestruck smile creeping onto your face.

He opened up his arms and pulled you in,, squeezing you in a tight embrace. You took a deep breath, your eyelids fluttering closed as you savoured his scent of fresh pine. “Sorry, did I wake you up?” he quietly asked, his voice raspy and low next to your ear.

You nodded into his chest. “Yeah, but I don’t mind.” I never mind when it’s you.

Reaching a hand up to stroke your hair, he softly admitted, “I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You smiled, hidden from his view. “I promise you I missed you more.” He chuckled at your words, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you. Then, you spoke.

“I thought that I would never see you, again,” you whispered, your voice shaking like an autumn leaf. “I was so scared.”

He wiped away your tears, holding your face delicately between his hands, like you were made of glass. “I told you, didn’t I? I’m not going anywhere. Not without you. Never without you, love.”

You nodded, laughing through your tears, “You did tell me, you did.” You leaned into his touch, nuzzling your face into his hand. “I don’t know why I ever doubted you.”

His lips quirked at that, but expression suddenly grew serious. “[Y/N], there’s something that I have to tell you, and it’s serious.” 

You looked back at him, blinking away your tears to focus on his expression. He sighed before beginning to explain. “I’m—I’m not just here because I wanted to see you. You know the guards?”

Your throat tightened, but you nodded, still listening patiently. “I’m pretty sure George finally connected the dots between us. I think he asked Duke Sherwood about your necklace and, well—” He grimaced. “You probably know how the rest goes.”

Panic crashed over you like a wave as your brain began processing a million thoughts all at once. What was going to happen to you? Were you going to be thrown in jail? Or killed? Would you never see Clay, again? Clay—oh god, Clay. What would they do to him?

“I don’t know how much longer you can continue living safely here,” he murmured, his expression sad. “I also came by to ask if...” He sucked in a breath. “...if you wanted to run away with me.”

Your eyes widened. Run away?

“I’ve secured a route out of the capital set for dawn. We’d be gone before anyone even knew it.” He ran a hand through his murky golden locks, frowning. “I know that it’s a lot to ask of you, to leave the life you know just to be with me.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Especially when I’ve been so neglectful of you.”

Your whirled at that, your lips moving before you could stop yourself. “Don’t say that about yourself.” He stared at you in surprise, and you continued before he could interrupt. “You’re wonderful, Clay, really. You’re easily the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to me.”

You picked up his hand, pressing it to your chest. “Can you feel that?” you whispered. “Do you feel how fast you make my heart beat?” 

His eyes widened, and he nodded. 

Your leaned forward to place your forehead on his. “I don’t know how many times I’ve said it, but I’ll say it for the rest of my life if I have to.” You sent him a warm smile. “I choose you, Clay. I’d choose you every time, in every life. It’s always been you.”

You only saw his watery smile for a split second before he was crushing you in a hug to his chest. You didn’t hesitate to hug him back, squeezing him as tight as you possibly could.

Your heart was set on him. You loved your life at the bakery and your lunches with Rose, but these past few weeks taught you that a life without Clay was not a life spent living.

“Surviving and living are two very different things,” Rose had told you.

She was right.

“I’ll get properly dressed,” you said, pulling yourself away from his warm hold, “and then we can go.” Your spun on your heel, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Okay?”

His lips were parted while staring at you, almost looking like he had been struck with some great revelation. You turned, about to go back inside when a hand around your wrist stopped you. You looked back over your shoulder to see Clay looking down at his feet, something like anxiety etched into his features.

“Clay? What’s wrong?”

He let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s actually... one more thing I need to ask you before you go.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Another thing? What could he possibly talking about?

Letting go of your wrist and shoving his hand into his pocket, he sent you a crooked smile. “I spent so long preparing for this, but I’m still so nervous.” 

He sucked in a deep breath, then sank to one knee.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“[Y/N],” he began, his emerald gaze boring into yours, “I have stolen countless treasure chest troves’ worth of gold and jewels. I can’t even begin to name how much I’ve taken from and given to others. But do you remember—” He swallowed. “When I told you all those years ago that I wanted to bring change to this world by any means necessary, do you remember what you told me?”

You shook your head, still far too star-struck to speak.

His lips twitched into a grin. “You told me that you’d be waiting for me. And also that I had to promise I wouldn’t die and leave you all alone.” You stifled a laugh as he sucked in a deep breath, reaching a hand into his pocket. “I like to believe that I’ve done a pretty good job keeping that promise, but I think it’s time to make sure I never break it.”

From his pocket he pulled a small velvet box—a ring box. You were shaking now, a gasp escaping your lips as he flipped the top open.

It was a beautiful ring, consisting of a single silver band encrusted with diamonds and a glittering cut emerald lying in its center. It matched the necklace you wore perfectly, and you already knew what he was going to ask.

“[Y/N], love,” he breathed, holding one hand out toward you and the ring box in the other, “will you marry me?”

You didn’t even have to think twice.

“Yes,” you breathed, slipping your hand in his. “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes. I never want to be without you, again.”

You don’t think you had ever seen Clay smile so wide before as he swept you into his arms, swinging you around with a gleeful laugh. You giggled along with him, so overwhelmed with love and joy that you couldn’t help but join him. After a few seconds, he slowed to a stop, dipping his head to kiss you once more.

“You are my greatest treasure,” he whispered when he pulled away.

His emerald eyes shone like a tiny galaxy of his own. You stroked his cheek with your hand. “And you are mine.”

You knew that the future was anything but clear. You were leaving behind the life you had built in the city you had always lived in, running off with nothing more than the clothes on your back and a ring on your finger. 

But you knew that with Clay by your side, that didn’t matter.

It was a dream come true.

At dawn, Rose Dubois awoke to find a rolled up piece of parchment tied with green ribbon on her stall counter.

Hello, Rose!

I’m sorry I didn’t visit you as often as you’d have liked. I’m afraid I won’t get the chance to now, but I do have wonderful news for you. We are getting married, just like you hoped! If I ever return, I will be sure to tell you every detail. Save me a bowl of rabbit stew, will you?

All my love,

[Y/N] & Dream

She looked out at the rising sun in the distance, watching two birds soar across the gold-tinted sky, flapping in harmony with one another. A part of her always felt like she knew, and now she was left to wonder. She wondered where they went, where they were going. 

She ran her thumb along the edge of the page, a content smile gracing her lips as she murmured three words.

“I’ll be waiting.”

[bi-bi-buckleydiaz]

deep breath, do your job | owen joyner

requested; yes! - Could you do a Owen x reader where the reader is Owens personal assistant while filming JATP and while they are filming the reader starts catching feelings for Owen but Owen is in a relationship. Owen and his girlfriend breakup and the reader comes over to comfort Owen and Owen confesses that the reason him and his girlfriend broke up was because of the reader.

word count; 6.4K ... yeah kinda got away from me there. longest fic i’ve ever written

warnings; language, implied sexual content but no actual sex or description thereof

a/n; lol, so i just wrote from 1AM - 4AM because i’m procrastinating my child dev. project thats due today that’s worth a quarter of my grade. i really didn’t mean for this to be so long so it’s probably not this good and the ending is a lil’ rough, but oh well. hope whoever requested this likes it. i kinda do even though it’s long and only slightly proofread.

“Owen Patrick Joyner! Get your ass into hair and makeup before - oh, um, okay oops. Sorry ‘bout that. Should have knocked. I’ll just - yep, i’ll just go.” 

You thought he’d be sleeping. It’s nap time for him anyway, so he should’ve been sleeping. Instead, your technically boss and definite crush, was on his trailer couch with a girl you’ve never seen before. Kissing her. Without a shirt. Yeah, you definitely need to get out of there. 

You’re quick to close his door and begin to walk back to the hair and makeup trailer to tell them Owen will be a minute. 

“Y/N! Hey! Wait up! It’s um, it’s not, well it is, but -” He grabs your arm, causing you to turn around and face him, which, big mistake. Abort. Abort. Turn around. His post make out face is something you did not want to see. Liar.  

“It’s fine Owen. What you do in your free time is not my, well, actually it is since i’m your PA, I just mean who - WHAT, what you do in your personal time, in your trailer, is not my concern. Just, you’re needed in hair and makeup like, an hour ago. So, yeah, just, get there.” You stumble over half your words and watch his face fall as you near the end of your spiel. When he lets go of your arm you’re quick to turn around and leave him alone, walking right past hair and makeup and to set where you can curl up in your chair and eat your weight in brownies, if Madi hasn’t taken them all that is. You hope he goes to get his hair done. You know you should walk with him there because if you’re not practically dragging him to where he needs to go he never gets there on time, as just witnessed. But it’s usually because he’s goofing off with Charlie, not sucking face with a random girl. 

You don’t notice the brownie in your hand has crumbled until a whistle comes from behind you. You turn around a little too quickly, sending the brownie bits flying to the floor. 

“Shit.” You kneel down to begin picking it up, another hand coming into help. Charlie, based on the rings adorning the fingers. 

“Is Owen’s keeper okay?” You huff a laugh at the name the cast gave you a week into filming. You’re the only one who has managed to keep Owen in line since filming started, the only reason he’s ever on time for anything or actually has real food in the apartment or has his drumsticks when needed, etc. etc. 

The boys didn’t want PA’s when Kenny proposed it during bootcamp, they were young adults, they didn't want to boss someone around, it felt wrong. But having more experience than the boys, Kenny vetoed how they felt and told them PA’s would help tremendously, especially on a project like this. That’s where you came in. You were trying to get into the directing and producing scene in Hollywood, you’re dream to be as good a director as Steven Spielberg or, well, Kenny Ortega. But you knew you had to start small, so you applied for a PA job on an upcoming Netflix show, getting hired within the week. Now here you are, a nineteen year old being in charge of another nineteen year old who acts more like he’s five. 

In the beginning, it was purely professional. You were nothing more than his PA who got him from place A to place B in a timely fashion. But then he started to rope you into pranks with the rest of the band. He started inviting you to movie nights, and adventures to the grocery store, and ice skating with Charlie and Madi, and somewhere between helping him keep his life in order and watching him fall on his ass at the ice rink, you fell for the blonde. You know it’s a mistake, falling for him. You work for him. He’s your friend. That’s all he sees you as, but you couldn’t help it. But you’re good at compartmentalizing, so you took all the inappropriate feelings, shoved them in a box, locked the box, and hid it deep in your unconscious. You were doing well with ignoring the box, until you walked in on Owen kissing someone that wasn’t you. 

“I’m fine Charlie, just, stressed. Owen was an hour late to hair and makeup so I kinda feel like a shit PA right now.” Charlie chuckles and hugs you as you both stand up. 

“Please Y/N, you’re the best PA. If it weren’t for you, Owen would never know where anything is, including his head.” You laugh into his shoulder, reveling in the hug for a few more seconds. When you part, you see a flash of blonde enter the set and sigh in relief. He made it. He’s ready. You’re not fired today. 

Just incredibly confused and upset. 

But not fired.

“You better go, I know you’re in this scene with Owen.” Charlie nods and squeezes your shoulder once before running after Owen onto the set that holds Julie’s shed. Taking a deep breath, you try to push whatever the hell you saw ten minutes ago into your box, and get ready for the day ahead. 

Four hours, six brownies, and two cookies later, Owen is officially wrapped for the day, meaning you can go home and continue to eat your feelings in ice cream. You’re quick to grab your binder full of Owen’s schedules to drop tomorrow’s off at his trailer before he sees you. You’re not really in the mood to talk to him about what happened earlier, so you fast walk to his trailer, fully intent on just leaving the paper on his counter where he’ll see it, but a brown haired, green eyed girl throws that plan right out the window. 

You’re so stupid. You should’ve known she would still be here. Waiting. 

“Oh, um, hi.” She says. She sounds nice. She looks nice. But when you look at her all you can see is her hands in Owen’s hair and his lips on hers. 

“Hi.” You don’t know how, but you managed to put on a smile and put a little pep into your voice. “I’m Ashley. I’m waiting for Owen. Is he done?” You nod, not trusting your voice as you stand awkwardly in the doorway, one foot on the step the other in the trailer, hand outstretched ready to place the schedule on the table. 

“He just wrapped for the day. Should be here in a few.” The girl - Ashley - nods. 

“You’re Y/N, right? His personal assistant?” How does she know that. She giggles, “He talks about you all the time. Says the only reason he’s not fired or dead in a ditch is because of you.” OH, you said that aloud. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoo-

“Y/N! What are ya doing just standing in the doorway?” Fuck. You put a smile on and turn around. He’s smiling softly at you, still in Alex’s clothes, twirling those damn drumsticks around his fingers. 

“Um, just dropping tomorrow’s schedule off. Here. Okay...bye.” You walk down the steps, letting the door shut behind you, fully intent on leaving, but Owen grabs your arm again, just like earlier, causing you to stop and turn to look at him. 

“Wait. Can we talk real quick. About...earlier?” No. No absolutely not. 

“Um, I really have to go. I have a lot to do tonight for tomorrow.” Owen sighs and lets go of your arm, face contorting into that of a sad puppy. 

“Just, one minute Y/N. Please. Let me explain.” Screw him and his perfect freaking face. 

“A minute.” His face lights up and grabs your hand, leading you back into his trailer, smiling even wider at seeing Ashley sitting pretty on the couch. 

“Y/N, this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” Ashley smiles and waves, standing up to stand by Owen and grab his hand. A rock settles in your chest at the word. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

“Nice. I’m Y/N. But you knew that. Just like you also know I’m in charge of getting him to places on time. Which didn't happen today.” Owen’s face flushes at that while Ashley terribly hides a smirk behind her hand. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that Y/N. She surprised me today. We weren’t supposed to see each other until Thanksgiving but she finished classes early and flew out to surprise me. Kinda got, caught up in -” His face is beat red so you’re quick to cut him off. 

“It’s fine. Just, try not to get ‘caught up’ tomorrow, yeah?” It’s harsh and full of hostility, but you want to leave, the word still bouncing around in your head, swirling around the scene you walked into earlier. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

Girlfriend. 

Flushed face. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

“I have to go. See you tomorrow on set at 5 Am. Got it? Five A M. Don’t make me break into your apartment again. I almost got arrested for that.” Owen is still reeling from your harsh words said a second ago to laugh at the memory. Ashley however, has no qualms about speaking up. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s here on time.” She smiles and wraps around his arm like a koala. You hold back a scoff, throwing up a fake smile before turning and leaving. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

It’s almost midnight.

It’s 11:48 PM and someone is knocking on your door. 

Who the fuck is pounding on your door at near midnight. 

You shuffle to the door wrapped up in your comforter, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. You don’t bother looking through the peephole, too angry at the person behind the door to bother, just wanting to yell at them and get back to bed. 

“What the - Charlie?” He looks exhausted, hair ruffled and eyes puffy. He’s in joggers, a random band tee and his denim jacket. You’re pretty sure his shoes are on the wrong feet. 

“Can I stay the night?” He doesn’t wait for your response before walking into your apartment, flinging his shoes and jacket off and walking to your room. You sigh, ignoring the way he just threw his stuff around and instead follow him to your room before he takes your side of the bed. You walk in just as he chucks his shirt off and woah. You were so not expecting that. An explanation as to why he’s here at midnight? Yeah. Him taking your side of the bed? Definitely. But not Charlie taking his shirt off and crawling onto the right side of the bed and curling around a pillow. You take a moment to collect yourself and your thoughts before crawling into bed next to him, making sure to drape the comforter over him as well. He hums in content and turns around to face you. 

“Sorry for barging in like this. Just, ugh, Owen and that girl are not quiet if you catch my drift.” And it’s like the rock in your heart is now a boulder and it’s crushing your ribcage. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You’re frozen, staring at Charlie’s half asleep face. “Like I get it, you’ve missed each other. But c’mon bro I’m there too.” He keeps talking. Keeps pushing the boulder until all the ribs crack and puncture your lungs. “There’s somethings in this world I never wanted to hear, and Owen moaning was one of them.” He won’t shut up. Charlie shut up. You’re entire chest is fracturing, breaking at his words and he needs to shut. up.

“I didn’t really know where else to go, but I remembered how comfy your bed was last movie night so, here I am.” His voice is raspy, words slurring as he’s trying to fight sleep to explain to you why he’s here. But you can’t focus on him right now. Can’t think about a shirtless Charlie in your bed. There’s only one thing you can think about right now. 

Girlfriend. 

Shirtless. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

Girlfriend. 

“Thanks for letting me crash by the way. I’ll try not to kick you in my sleep.” He chuckles, then finally opens his eyes when you don’t laugh back. You don’t know how you look right now. You know you’re frozen. But is the panic and pure sadness showing on your face? It must be, because suddenly Charlie is wide awake and leaning up on his elbow to look at you fully. “Y/N are you okay?” He’s worried. You want to tell him you’re okay. It’s fine. Everything is fine. But you can’t move. You can’t talk. Because reality is crushing you. It’s ripping up your heart, suffocating you, consuming your mind. 

Owen isn’t yours. 

Owen will never be yours. 

You’re just a friend. 

You’re just his PA. 

That’s when the tears finally start. They come slowly, one trailing down your cheek, then another. Then all at once your sobbing into Charlie’s chest, no doubt getting snot all over him. But he doesn’t seem to care. He just starts to hum some random song while he repeatedly runs his hand over your hair, the other holding you close to him. He keeps humming, his chest vibrating and giving you something to focus on that isn’t your depressing thoughts. It’s almost soothing, the petting and the hug and the humming. 

You don’t know how long you sob into him, but when you stop, his humming stops too. He still holds you close, just lets go of your head so you can lean back a little and look up at him. He’s brows furrow in concern and he pouts at your post-crying face. 

“Are you okay? Am I really that bad of company?” He tries for funny but you can’t bring yourself to laugh with him. Just pout and push his semi-wet chest. “Seriously Y/N, i’ve never seen you like this. What’s wrong?” Those two words. 

What’s wrong?

What’s wrong? I fell for my boss and now he’s doing it with some girl and I can’t stop thinking about them and it’s killing me because before I could live with being his friend and PA because at least there was some sliver of a chance but now there’s nothing because he has someone and I have no one and I can’t breathe because oh my god I love him. I love that stupid fool and i’m nothing but his personal assistant. 

It’s quiet for a minute, too quiet, and that’s when you realize you said all that out loud. You look up at Charlie, which was a mistake because his face is full of pity. It’s all sad puppy eyes and “Shit Y/N i’m so sorry.” A fresh wave of tears make their way out of your eyes, but Charlie is quick to wipe them away. 

“Y/N I didn’t know I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have said all of that, God I was so stupid.” And then it’s like a whole new flood gate opens, this one full of laughter though. You start with a chuckle, but soon it’s full out belly laughing. Because Charlie isn’t the stupid one here. “I’m the stupid one. I mean, how idiotic does a PA have to be to fall for the one they’re in charge of? Never mix work with pleasure. It’s PA-ing 101, don’t fall for your boss. I’m so fucking stupid to ever fall for him or think he’d like me back because i’m just his stupid PA who has no talent what so ever, never has a good hair day, can’t go a day without eating their weight in sugar, and will never see him again after filming is wrapped.” Your laughing dies down by the end, and then ends completely when you see the look on Charlie’s face. It’s not exactly pity, but it’s not exactly sadness either. It’s hard to describe what exactly it is, but it’s not good. 

“Y/N. Babes. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that again, okay? I swear to God next time I hear anything like that come out of your mouth again, I’m hitting you with a pillow.” You giggle, but he stays serious. “Dead ass Y/N. Listen, was it probably not the smartest to fall for Owen? Yeah. But you didn’t know he had someone. I didn’t even know he had a girl and I’m his roommate. But, we can’t help who we like. It’s all brain chemistry and heart palpitations and whatever else. It’s something we can’t control. So don’t say you’re stupid because of something you can’t control.” 

“You’re being really smart and caring for twelve am.” You both chuckle, a real smile gracing your face for once in the past twelve hours. 

“I’m sorry for the breakdown it’s just, there’s a lot in my head right now and what you said really didn’t help.” Charlie sighs and pulls you in close. 

“I’m sorry babes. You should’ve slapped me or something.” 

“I probably would’ve had the breakdown at some point tonight anyway.” Charlie pulls back a bit to look at you, confusion on his face. “I kinda walked in on them making out earlier when Owen was late to hair and makeup.” 

“Is that why you crushed that brownie earlier?” You sigh and nod. 

“Y/N, i’m sorry. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” 

“It’s fine Charlie. It’s, well, it’s not but, I’ll get over it. I’m a big girl. Besides, I have you to get my tears and snot all over right?” He groans while you giggle, but he isn’t really mad if the way he pulls you close and rests his face in your hair is any indication. 

“Always babes.” 

The next day you drive to set with Charlie who didn’t have to be on set at five like Owen, but joined you nonetheless. Taking his duty as your new ‘heartguard’ as he called it last night, you walk to hair and makeup with his arm around your shoulders. It’s comforting, even though he’s putting most of his weight on you because he’s exhausted, the coffee you gave him this morning clearly doing nothing to wake up. 

“Charlie, you could’ve stayed in bed until you were actually needed.” You laugh as he trips up the steps to the trailer, nearly face planting if it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around his waist last minute. 

“Char you good?” You hear BooBoo ask. Charlie grumbles something incoherent and shoves his face into your neck as you lean against the arm of the couch. BooBoo laughs, so do you, but quickly sober up when Owen walks in, Ashley on his arm. Charlie must have ESP or something because, without looking up at who walked in, he wraps his arms around your waist and murmurs in your ear, “Deep breaths. I’m here.” You do as he says, shooting Owen a friendly smile, but dropping it as he frowns at you. 

What is that about? 

“Glad to see you on time Owen. I wouldn’t have been able to break in this morning anyway because an octopus decided to break into my own apartment last night.” You ruffle Charlie’s hair as you say that and he grumbles some more, playfully biting your neck as well. “Ow. Asshole.” Owen frowns even deeper at that, while BooBoo chuckles. He get’s scolded a second later for moving. 

“So that’s where you disappeared to last night. I was wondering why you weren’t home this morning.” Owen’s voice is tight while he says it, Ashley noticing as well if the tightened grip on his arm is anything to go by. Charlie squeezes your waist as a way to say, ‘prepare yourself’ before he moves his head to lean against your shoulder so he can talk. 

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t have had to if you and your girl weren’t so freaking loud.” You tense up, mind starting to reel again, but a squeeze to your waist and a warm breath on your neck manages to bring you back. The trailer goes quiet, even the hair and makeup ladies tensing up and sensing the tension. Charlie, ever the wrong place, wrong time type of guy, grabs your hand and places it on his hair, then moves it back and forth. 

“Pet me.” Despite the tension in the room, you can’t help but giggle at the stupid Canadian boy wrapped around you. Apparently that’s all the rest of the people in the trailer needed to go back to what they were doing. That or they just didn’t want to get involved in young adult drama. You shoot a look at Owen, his jaw tense and hands clenched into fists. Completely ignoring the way Ashley leans up to kiss Owen’s neck, you open your phone and begin to read off his schedule for the day, your left hand still running through Charlie’s hair. 

“Hair and makeup at five AM, sit your butt down and let Shelly do her thing, costume fitting right after. First scene at six-thirty with BooBoo, you guys are doing the scene at the Orpheum where you talk about what’s been going on, you’re going to be sad so this whole frowny face you got going on? Keep it. A break after that then rehearsal with Charlie, Jer, and Mads for Stand Tall. Fitting for the Stand Tall suit is after that, but no actual filming for that scene yet, just getting the measures right so after that, you’re done for the day.” You take a deep breath after all that, BooBoo whistling at you from his seat. 

“You could be an auctioneer with how fast you talk.” You smile and bow your head at him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment Boo.” He shoots you a smile and then raises his hand to high five Owen as he sits next to him. Owen ignores him. In fact, he stays silent throughout all of getting his hair and makeup done. Only smiling occasionally when Ashley shows him a meme on her phone. You watch them, the boulder in your chest rolling around as you do so. But not for jealousy, no, for concern. Owen is acting very unlike himself. You may be upset right now, especially with him, but it doesn’t mean you still don’t see him as a friend; still don’t worry about him. Something is wrong, and you can’t help but feel like it’s your fault. 

“So did it work?” You jump in surprise at the voice behind you, the cookie in your hand crumbling and falling onto the table. 

“Charlie! What did I say about sneaking up on me?” You turn to look at the boy who is smiling too wide at you for you to think this is about to be a completely innocent conversation. 

“Did it work?” He’s practically vibrating where he stands.

“Did what work?” 

“The cuddling this morning? Didn’t you see Owen? He was totally jealous.” And - what? That’s why he was so touchy this morning? 

“I just thought you were tired, that was - you were trying to make Owen jealous? Charlie what the hell? He has a girlfriend!” Charlie rolls his eyes and loops his arm around yours, dragging you away from the cookies and towards the costume room. 

“Yeah, but we both know she shouldn’t be. And the way he was acting this morning? I think he’s starting to realize that too.” There’s no way...right? No, the way Charlie described last night...no. 

“No, okay, he was probably just tired and angry about having to be here so early.” Yeah, that’s it. He was not jealous of the friendly cuddling you and Charlie were doing. Totally...not. Holy shit. You hear Charlie giggling in your ear as you enter costume. 

There, in front of you, is a very shirtless, very toned, very pretty Owen Joyner.

“You’re welcome.” Then Charlie is off to God knows where. Leaving you alone with Owen. Well, not really alone since Soyon is here too, running around looking for different fabrics and textures to throw on Owen. A still very shirtless Owen. 

“Oh, hi Y/N. What are you doing here?” Owen asks, looking at you though the floor length mirror in front of him. He’s not smiling at you, but he’s not frowning either, so improvement from this morning. 

“Oh, um, just making sure you got here on time. And look at that. You did! Good job.” You clap, who knows why, but it makes Owen laugh, which, whew, okay. 

“Yeah, I reminded him.” A voice behind you says. You turn and look at Ashley walking in, coffee cup in hand. She bounces up to Owen, ignoring Soyon and placing a big, wet kiss onto his lips before moving to the couch off to the side. Owen seems shocked by the PDA, which makes sense, you know he’s not big on that, remembering one late night conversation you both had a few weeks ago. 

“Anyway, Y/N, how does this one looks. I think the ruffles are nice. And then when he’s performing Stand Tall we can,” and then she begins to unbutton the shirt all the way down to mid chest and okay, seriously Soyon, now you just want to torture me. 

“I like this.” Owen says, twirling in the mirror like a ballerina. This causes the shirt to fling open more, showing his chest more in the process.

Deep breaths. 

Be a friend. 

You’re a big girl. 

“Yeah. It’s good,” you say, walking over to him to tuck to the sides back together somewhat. “Are you going to keep with the pink theme for the jacket?” Soyon smiles and nods, walking away for a minute leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley. 

“Should it really be unbuttoned that much? I mean, it is a kids show? I don’t want to share my boy with fangirls.” Ashley says. You can’t stop your eyes from rolling or the scoff that leaves your mouth. You watch Owen’s Adam's apple bob as he gulps. 

“Please, Charlie is sleeveless for a majority of the show. Owen showing a little chest isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Besides, Soyon chose good. The way the shirt fits and settles it’s never going to open all the way. Unless, ya know, he twirls like some Carolynn Rowland wannabe.” You smile up at Owen and inhale sharply when you see he’s already looking down at you. “And with the jacket on it’ll stay put pretty well.” You’re still holding the shirt in your hands, looking at Owen’s face as you talk. For a second, it’s just you and him, looking at each other, smiling. Then Soyon comes back and clears her throat. The trance breaks and you back up. You wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans before backing up and standing next to the mirror. You feel eyes on you and look over to see Ashely glaring at you. 

“Here we go. One pink jacket to match.” Owen slides it on and smiles wide. You have to say, it looks good. Professionally speaking of course. 

“Soyon, have I ever said how freaking amazing you are. I mean, this is really good looking. Very Alex.” Owen praises. He’s smiling and it’s a nice sight after this mornings debacle. 

“Alex is going to be the best looking one on that stage.” Owen looks over at you, his smile still there, and the boulder shrinks three sizes. 

“Still think the shirt should be buttoned.” Ashley mutters. But everyone ignores her, even Owen, who does another twirl in front of the mirror. 

“Well then, you’re all set Owen. Go ahead and change and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Soyon leaves, going off to do costume designer things, leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley again. Owen takes the jacket off, then looks around not knowing what to do with it. You sigh and smile softly, taking it from him.

“Here, just give me all the clothes and i’ll take them back to your rack.” He smiles thankfully at you, before frowning again and looking down at his outfit. Getting what he’s thinking, you chuckle and cross your arms. “Bub I just saw you shirtless it’s not a big deal. Now c’mon, give me the clothes before Soyon thinks you’re stealing them.” Owen looks up at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at you before. It makes you take a sharp breath in.

“Maybe you should go. I can give the clothes to Soyon. Don’t you have assistant duties to do?” Ashley is right next to you as she says it. It makes your ears hurt and hands clench. You’re quick to unclench though, not wanting to wrinkle the nice pink jacket. Ashley moves forward to unbutton Owen’s shirt all the way, but he grabs her hand before she can begin. 

“Actually I need Y/N to stay. I have to talk to her about some, ya know, assistant stuff. And besides, she knows where Alex’s rack is and that’s where the clothes have to go. Why don’t you go wait for me in the trailer, I’ll be there in a few.” 

I need Y/N to stay. 

That shouldn’t make you feel as warm and tingly as it does. 

Ashley scoffs and looks away, clearly trying to guilt trip him. Owen sighs and kisses her cheek.  

“Trailer. Ten minutes.” Ashley sighs before nodding and finally leaving. He watches her go, then turns back to you when she finally disappears. You clear your throat and he looks back at you, face a bit red. 

“Um, hey.” You chuckle. 

“Hi.” He nods, and you sigh, walking so you’re right in front of him. “Seriously, O, you need to get this off because if they’re not on the rack for Soyon to fix up by the end of the day it’s my head on a stick, not yours.” Then you’re unbuttoning his shirt. 

You’re unbuttoning. His shirt. You don’t realize you’re doing it until you hand grazes his navel when you untuck it from his pants. You hear him suck in a breath and you immediately take two steps back. 

“Sorry, um. Sorry that was not, um, -” 

“It’s okay. You were just, doing your job. Making sure I get stuff done on time, right?” But his voice is wobbly as he says it and his face is as red as a tomato. You couldn’t have made him that flushed, not you? 

“Right. Yeah. Um, so, pants?” Owen looks at you with wide eyes. “I need to take the pants back too.” It’s quiet, but you know he heard you because he nods his head and begins to unbutton them. You suddenly feel very hot, very suffocated. You should’ve left when you had the chance, just let Ashley do this. You shouldn’t be here, watching as he pulls the velvet pants down his legs. Watching as he steps out of them and - oh God he’s falling. You grab his hand to help him but it’s too late, you both tumble to the ground. You’re on top of him, smushed up against his bare chest, faces centimeters apart, sharing breaths. 

“Sorry.” You mumble. You watch him gulp and look down. Down at wha - oh. 

“It’s, it’s okay. I’m the one that fell and pulled you down.” You nod, causing your nose to brush against his. You’re close, so freaking close that if you were to move not even a full centimeter, your lips would touch.

So. 

Close. 

“What. The. Hell!” SHit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You’re quick to scramble away from Owen, butt scooting across the floor to get as far away from him as possible. Owen jumps up, kicking the pants away then realizing that was probably not a smart idea because now he’s half naked in between Ashley and you.  

“Ash I -” 

“You were taking forever, wanted to know why. Thought you said there was nothing between you two?” She’s practically screeching. You know within minutes there will be a crowd. A crowd Owen will not want, his anxiety will not want. Ignoring his stuttering and the conversation in general, you push away the heat in your belly and the tingling in your spine and take a deep breath. 

Deep breath. 

Be a friend. Do your job.

You grab Owen’s clothes and put them in his hands, ignoring his speaking and Ashley ranting, you grab his hand and then hers, and shove them towards the back exit. 

“This is a trailer conversation, not a wardrobe fitting conversation. Leave, now.” 

“No, I have a lot to say -” 

“Listen to me, I’m trying to do my job and not get Owen in trouble. If you really care about him, you’ll take this conversation to his trailer. Now.” Then you shove them out the door before Ashley could screech some more. 

Deep breath. 

Do your job. 

You go back to the fitting area, only to see Charlie, Jer, and Madi standing there, looking confused. 

Deep breath.

Do your job.

“Hey guys. Owen just left. He and Ashley are having a date night.” Charlie gives you a look, but Jer and Madi nod, going to accept it, but Charlie has to open his big dumb Canadian mouth. 

“Why’d we hear screaming then?” Charlie questions. Jer and Madi look at each other, then back at you. 

“Oh, uh, mouse. I saw a mouse. Yep. Mouse. Anyway, I have to get this clothes hung up before they wrinkle, so excuse me.” 

Deep breath. 

Do your job.

You walk around the trio, gathering the suit and shaking everything out as you walk over to the Alex rack to hang them up. You hear the door to the room open and two sets of feet walking out. 

“Charlie, everything is fine okay? Just a little misunderstanding.” 

“Like?” You sigh and turn around from finishing hanging up the clothes. 

“Like...Owen kinda fell and when I went to help him I feel too...on top of him.” There’s silence then, 

“OH MY GOD! Y/N THAT’S LIKE FANFIC SHIT THAT WAS THE MOMENT! DID YOU KISS OH MY GOD TELL ME EVERYTHING!” He’s jumping up and down as he makes his way to you. 

“Ashley walked in.” All excitement stops.

“Oh shit.” You nod, walking past him to settle on the couch, pulling a pillow to your chest. 

“Yeah. And she started screeching and I knew Owen wouldn’t like to attention so I shoved them out the back door to his trailer.” Charlie’s arm goes around you, pulling you close. He goes to say something, but your phone ringing indicating a text from Owen stops him. You pull it out, opening it as Charlie watches over your shoulder. 

My trailer plz. 

Charlie starts shaking your shoulders, smiling like a maniac. “This is your chance Y/N go go GO!” you shake your head at Charlie’s antics, but leave nonetheless. 

Anxiety creeps up on you as you get closer and closer to his trailers, not knowing what you’re going to walk into. Him firing you? Saying you can’t be friends anymore? Ashley ready to claw your face off? 

Deep breath.

Be a friend.

You knock on his door. It opens a second later to a frantic looking Owen. Now you're anxious about him. Why does he look upset? Is he okay? He grabs your hand and pulls you into his, oh, empty trailer. Ashley is nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey, thanks for coming.” You nod, still looking around expecting her to jump out and slap you. “Um, sit. Sit, I have to talk to you about something.” You go to sit on the couch, but then remember what occurred there yesterday and instead lean against the counter. He notices but doesn’t say anything. 

“Yeah okay. What’s up?” You try to act nonchalant, but the anxiety is too high for that. ‘I have to talk to you about something’ never ends well. He walks over and sits on the bed pats the spot next to him. God, this can’t be a good conversation if he really wants you to sit. 

“Ashley and I were never...on here.” He mumbles. You walk over and sit next to him, blushing that he caught on to why you didn’t sit on the couch. 

“Must be serious if you need me to sit.” Owen takes a deep breath, another, another, and then there’s lips on your. They’re soft and nice and taste like carmex chapstick. 

“Mhm, Owen, what, what are you doing?” Your faces are still close together, both of you not wanting to back away yet. 

“I’m gonna talk. Okay I’m gonna talk and I want you to listen and not crawl inside your head too soon okay?” You nod, knowing in this moment you’d do anything to keep him this close. 

“I knew Ashley from high school. She started texting me a few weeks back and one thing led to another and she was calling me her boyfriend. I didn’t want it but it happened and I let it because it got my mind off a girl I shouldn’t like because it would ruin so many things. I didn’t know she was coming to visit and when she knocked on my trailer she jumped me and just kept going. And I just went along with everything yesterday because I’m supposed to be her boyfriend and I’m supposed to think about those things with her and I’m supposed to want those things with her, but I don’t Y/N. I don’t want those things with her I never did. I, I want them with you. I’ve wanted them with you from the moment you finally stopped being shy around me and dragged me from crafts by my ear to hair and makeup. You’re so amazing Y/N and I thought if I did anything I’d ruin this and ruin your career and I didn’t want that. I never wanted that so I went along with Ashley but I shouldn’t have because the whole time I was thinking about you. It’s always been -” You kiss him. You grab him by the cheeks and kiss him. It’s a passionate kiss, an ‘about time’ kiss, an ‘i’m never letting you go’ kiss. 

You only break away when you can’t breathe, and even then you only pull away enough to breath in each other’s air. 

“She left. She’s gone. She knew I was never 100% in.” You nod, but you’re not really listening. You can’t hear anything other than your heartbeat. 

He likes you. 

Owen likes you.

Owen kissed you. 

“It’s always been you, Y/N.” You smile. It’s a big one that you have to hamper down by biting your lip. Owen smiles back, then you’re kissing again. 

And again. 

And again.

[drabblingdraco]

✬Arranged✬ Draco Malfoy X Reader (Request)

This is a request I received!

"Hello! I would love if you wrote something around reader and draco being forced into an arranged marriage by their parents. They hate each other at first because draco used to bully/insult her in school, they're constantly at each other's thoughts at first but then they begin to not mind each other's company... idk if that makes sense feel free to ask any questions. if you don't mind writing it I would love you see your take on it ❤️ oh and maybe the reader would fit the whole pureblood Slytherin comes from a wealthy family thing too. Something like that..."

I’ve read various imagines with a similar plot, but here’s my take on it! If you’d like a Part 2, let me know! I love this story line

Warning: swearing, slightly mean/bully Draco

Very long like 2k oops

Draco's POV:

I was awoken by the sound of Father walking in to my bedroom. He told me I needed to get up and ready for the day, as the (y/l/n)'s were coming. I ran my fingers through my hair, stressing over the fact I had to see (y/n) again. I couldn't stand being in the same room as her. She made me feel emotions I refused to let out. Although we were arranged to be married, I would never let her in my head. She wasn't getting anywhere near my vulnerability. I looked up at Father as he walked towards my bed, grabbing my chin.

"Son, you know how important this is. She's one of the only good pure bloods your age. Not to mention her great, great grandfather was the founder of Slytherin house. Don't fuck this up, Draco." He spat his last sentence before exiting.

I sighed, getting out of bed. My warm feet adjusted to the cold temperature of the wood floor. I went into my closet and picked out my usual attire: an emerald button up, black slacks and black laced dress shoes. I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I combed my hair back to a suitable placement. After spritzing some cologne on my neck, I saw a silver town car pull up outside the window.

(y/n)'s POV:

As the car came to a stop, I sighed while slouching in my seat. I could see Draco peering out the window pane. I wasn't looking forward to spending another day at the Malfoy's, yet again. I've been coming to the Manor my whole life. I knew the Malfoy's like the back of my hand, except Draco. He repeatedly threw his aggression towards me. Every time we spoke, one of my flaws came up in conversation. He always pointed out the (y/birthmark) on my (y/body part).

"Out the car now darling, time to see your fiancé."

"Mother please stop calling him that."

"Why? He is your betrothed after all." She grinned.

I rolled my eyes. After all these years, I still can't imagine being married to that foul mouth. I wanted to marry someone I loved, like my parents. But all they cared about was the Malfoy’s and keeping their great image in the wizarding world.

I stepped out of the car and mother shouted at me from the other side. "Go ahead inside love, I'll meet you in there." She had a slight smirk across her lips. I was suspicious, but not enough to ask questions.

I make my way up the grand stairs, Narcissa waited for me in the doorway.

"Hello dear! Delighted to see you again." She gave me a hug and a peck on the head.

"Draco will be down in just a minute- DRACO!" She smiled. I internally groaned.

A figure came walking down the spiral staircase. His hair was placed just right, making his piercing grey eyes stand out. His sleeves were cuffed right above his wrists, the green really accentuated his skin tone. I quickly shook myself out of admiration coma.

"Draco." I said with a straight face.

"(y/n).." he replied.

"Draco, why don't you take her to the gardens while your father gets her trunks?"

"Trunks? What do you mean?"

Narcissa looked confuzzled. "Oh dear, don't know you? You're staying at the manor for a short while."

My eyes went wide, "What?"

"WHAT?!" Draco grasped the railing of the stairs, the veins on his hand popping out as he strained against the wood.

"Draco! Behave yourself," Narcissa gritted through her teeth, she turned to me smiling.

"I don't have any clothes," I stammered, trying to make up excuses to avoid my dreadful stay.

"Yes you do!" Mother said, walking through the door.

I turned to face her with stink eyes, "is there a reason you didn't tell me I had to stay here with this twat?!" I motioned to Draco.

"And you didn't tell me this bloody-" Draco shouted at Narcissa, but she quickly stopped him.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

There was a brief, awkward moment of silence between the four of us. 

"My love, it's time you got a taste of the married life," she grasped my shoulder shaking me subtly. "After all, you are older now and soon enough, you'll officially be husband and wife."

"But mother! I-"

"No buts! Now I really must be going. I have to meet your father at the council meeting, but enjoy yourself! I packed you enough clothes for a few weeks, so you're all set dear." She kissed me on the cheek as I stood there, dumbfounded.

"Goodbye darling!" She shouted as Lucious shut the door behind her, exiting the manor.

I turned around to face the two Malfoys that stood before me. How could she just dump me here? And for weeks?  It's bad enough she married me off before I could even breathe. There's no way I would be able to last that long here with Draco. I look at both him and Narcissa, he looked enraged and I couldn't blame him.

"Now take a walk in the gardens, get some fresh air." She stated as a command rather than a question.

We both looked at each other with disgust, but we followed her wishes and headed towards the courtyard. We walked in silence for quite awhile. It was a cumbersome stroll, he wouldn't look me in the eyes or even my direction. I shouldn't be surprised, he was always like this, but something was different. He seemed tense, like he was holding something back. I tried to enjoy myself as if he wasn't there, admiring the lilies and pansies scattered perfectly symmetrical. Unfortunately my eyes kept falling back on him. His tapered slacks rested right above his matte dress shoes. The way his shirt grasped his frame. I felt a chill going down my spine. I adjusted my cardigan, wrapping it tightly around my chest. For some reason this got his attention and he whipped his view towards me.

"Don't tell me you're cold?" He scoffed, scrunching his nose.

"Is there a problem with feeling normal human reactions?" I spat.

He laughed, "just find it rather odd you'd wear such a short skirt on a day like this."

I shook my head in anger. It was typical he pointed out something to do with my attire. "It's summer Malfoy..what, would you rather I wear jeans and sweat like a pig?" Looking me up and down, his eyes lingering at the hem of my skirt.

He ignored my words and continued to walk faster, heading back to the manor. I scoffed and continued at my pace, in no rush to go back inside with that jackoff.

I closed the door to the courtyard and locked it. My eyes traveled around the room, I remembered memories from my childhood, when Draco was actually pleasant towards me and didn't act like a dick. We used to play with fake wands and babble made up spells to each other. I snapped out of my thoughts when I saw Narcissa approaching.

"Why don't you come have some tea? I just brewed a pot." I nodded and followed her to the dining room.

I sat down in one of the many chairs seated at the table. A minute later she came back with a kettle and two dark green teacups with silver snakes on them. Typical Slytherins, but I was one to talk. We chatted a bit about how I've been since we last saw one another, even though it was only a mere three weeks ago. Then we diverted to the subject of Hogwarts. She went on about Dumbledore and how Lucious couldn't stand him. At this point, who didn't know about his vendetta against him.

After a few hours of conversing, she said she was tired and was heading to bed.

"You'll stay in Draco's room this evening."

"Um, are you sure? Can't I stay in the guest room?"

"Oh..the guest room is being..remodeled at the moment. Draco knows of the arrangements. I assure you dear, don't worry about about a thing. Sweet dreams." And with that, she left me standing in the dining room.

I clenched my fist together, wanting nothing more than to obliviate myself and forget everything that was happening, but alas, I couldn't go through with it. Like the kind, forced houseguest I was, I took the teacups and kettle back into the kitchen to be cleaned when I ran into Dobby.

"Hello Dobby how are you?"

"Hello Miss (y/n), you're always so worried about Dobby, it warms my heart. Dobby's keeping his feet on the ground. Dobby keeps hearing things from Mr. Draco about you."

"I'm sorry but I thought I just heard you saying Draco's been talking about me.."

"Oh dear, Dobby has said too much! Bad Dobby." He reached for the teacup but I stopped him before he could.

"Don't hurt yourself, it'll only make me sad, and I know you hate to see me that way." I bat my lashes.

"Sorry Miss (y/n)..since I've already said too much...Mr. Draco talks about you nicely. He likes your (y/h/c) hair and the way your nose scrunches when you're laughing. Dobby hears him talk to Mr. Crabbe and Goyle about these things and much more.." He shyly looks away, looking up the stairs towards Draco's room.

"Hey, hey, I won't tell him. (y/n) keeps secrets Dobby tells her." I smiled at him.

"Thank you Miss, Dobby likes you much more than his masters."

"I like you more than them too." I gave him a peck on the head and went up the staircase.

I trailed down the hall towards his room. The halls were dimly lit by small candles on the walls, as well as moving paintings on the walls of their family tree. I arrived outside his bedroom, scared out of my mind to knock, but I brought myself to do so. Shortly after knocking, he opened the door to his bedroom. I stood there admiring his night clothes; a fitted white v-neck tee shirt and boxer shorts.

"Are you just going to stand there like a git and gawk or come in?" He smirked.

"I- Uh- Coming in." I slipped past him and stood there, unsure of my next move.

"It's getting late," he shut the door behind him. "You should put on some more comfortable clothing to sleep in."

"Right..oh, my trunk is downstairs. I should go get-"

"It's right here," he pointed towards it. "I brought it up a little bit ago. Didn't want to risk you breaking a nail, I'd never hear the end of it."

I scoffed, walking towards my case. I unbuckled the clasps and opened it to find clothing that didn't belong to me, or so I thought."

I've bought you some more appropriate dressings for your stay with Draco. Enjoy them, I know he will too.

-Mother

I was taken aback by her note. It's like she's asking me to fuck him, and we're not even married yet. She's already desperate for grandchildren, I thought to myself. I rummaged through my new wardrobe and ogled in shock. Lingerie, bodycon dresses, even shorter skirts. Are mothers supposed to be like this?

I picked the least revealing item I could find to sleep in. It was a silk green nightgown with lace detailing on the chest, lingering a little too low on the chest for my liking..but it was the only thing that didn't expose my entire body. I grabbed my toiletry bag and my feet brought me to the bathroom. I peeled off my current attire and put on a new set of panties along with my nightgown. I brushed my hair up in a ponytail and brushed my teeth. Gathering my belongings, I slowly walked out of the bathroom and locked eyes with Draco. Now he was the one gawking at me.

"I know I'm always being a dick but..you look dashing (y/n), really." He said shyly, looking down at his feet as he sat on the bed.

"Thanks..." I wasn't sure how to respond.

I put my dirty clothes and bag on top of my trunk. I scratched the side of my arm in nervousness, not knowing how the sleeping arrangements were going to work, although I had an idea. There was nothing else to sleep on besides Draco's bed. He stared at me with anticipation as if he was waiting for me to join him.

I proceeded to the opposite side of the bed. I peeled back the sheets on my side, snaking my legs underneath. Draco still sat in his place, shifting a bit, but stayed in his current position. I laid down, facing his direction, closing my eyes. Maybe if I kept them closed long enough, I'd eventually fall into a deep slumber without any further conversing with Draco.

I felt the sheets ruffle as he too laid down, I couldn't tell if he was facing my direction or not, but I ignored it. I adjusted my pillow to a more comfortable position. We both laid there, within the same vicinity, completely silent. After a few moments, I peaked my eyes open ever so slightly to find a pair of silver eyes looking deep into my soul. I shuttered, unaware of the fact he was staring at me. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Couldn't help myself."

"Couldn't help what?" I asked in confusion.

"Having the pleasure of looking at you," he licked his lips.

"I don't think I understand.."

"My god (y/n)...I never took you for dumb."

I raised an eyebrow, "how am I dumb?"

"Because you can't see it," he paused. "You can't see how madly I'm in love with you...and you can't tell me you don't feel the same." He reached for me chin, grasping it ever so slightly.

I didn't dislike his touch. His hands were ice, melting on my warm skin. His thumb caressed my jaw, heading towards my lips.

"I- I will admit..I do have f-feelings for you, I've been suppressing them..but you make it very convincing that you have a..distaste for me. Ever since we were young.."

"I don't think you understand the common thing about us males...we tease the ones we love," he chuckled.

Not knowing what the hell came over me, I forcibly grabbed his face and slammed my hungry lips onto his.

Taglist: @bbeauttyybbx 

[anonsservice]

Wake Up!

|Prompt: Nightmare Comfort | request fill | Jade West x Reader | gender neutral!Reader| Jade, and Reader go to a sleepover at Tori's house prompted by Cat, and You have a nightmare. Jade comforts you. | fluff and a tiny little bit angst | 

    You had been getting night terrors since you were little. Anything would set them off back then. A stranger on the passing sidewalk who looked at you for a moment too long, the ladybug who had one too many spots, really, everything could have sent you down one nightmare after another. It got better in your teen years, but they still happened, still jolted you awake in a cold sweat, crying nine times out of ten. This is why you were reluctant to accept this slumber invitation. You really almost said no, but Jade had convinced you to go. After all, who would say no to an honest 'please' coming from the normally stone-cold gank.

    Jade would have said no as well and just spent the night with you instead, but Cat was tearing up and going on a long-winded speech about how senior year was almost over and how college would separate you all. All of which led up to this moment. You were packing your small overnight bag. Clothes, deodorant, hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, etc., etc. Jade would pick you up and the two of you would face this horrid night together. You did in fact like spending time with Cat and Tori, but your nerves got to you and all you could think about was 'what if I have a stupid nightmare? Like a child! Wake up crying and ruin it for everybody.'

    This is what caused you to stare at your shoes the whole ride over, only looking up when forcefully brought back to earth by Jade.

"What were you thinking about?"

"It's nothing, Jade. We should go in now, better get it over with-"

"Y/N were not leaving this car unti-" She was cut off by Cat bounding over from the front door of the Vega's house and over to your passenger side door.

"Hiii!" Cat yelled while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

"I tried to stop her!" Tori yelled while following after her, panting.

    Jade rolled her eyes and pointed her finger at you.

"We're talking about this later, Y/N. Now let's go, I got your bag."

    Jade, You, Cat, and Tori all walked in together. Jade holding both of your bags. (whipped? more likely than you think.)

    Cat was the first to jump onto one of the couches, sitting on the right couch, Tori followed her and sat next to her. You and Jade took up the left couch, you laying your head on her shoulder. And every time Cat or Tori sent an 'aww' look your way she snarled.

    "So! we should start off with hmmm- oh oh I know! Truth or dare!" That was Cat, and she was buzzing with excitement. You could practically see the happiness seeping from her tone.

    "What are we? Ten? No, Cat."  Jade hated truth or dare, or well most times she did. It was only fun when it was in her favor of looking for gossip or stirring up drama.

    You, however, were open to the game. Having played it growing up to pass time you didn't mind the small request from the red-headed girl.

    "Cmon' Jadey! Please-" Cat tried to speak but Jade cut her off.

    "No!" The one word Jade said multiple times a day. It seemed to be her only reaction to things.

    You didn't want to see Cat sad or hear for that matter. Cat would start to cry and then all hell would happen, so you took things into your own hands.

    "Jade, don't be rude! It's a sleepover! Just play the game, please. For me?" You sat up to look her in the eyes right as you said please. Crossing your eyebrows a touch and only slightly pouting your lips. A look you've perfected to get the girl sitting in front of you into a puddle.

    Jade grumbled a 'fine' and the four of you played for an hour. One of the 'truths' being asked by Tori to Jade was "Is it true your whipped for Y/N?". It took you and Cat lots of tiring effort to pull Jade off Tori.

--------

It was two hours since the game. You four were now watching a movie and poking fun at the cliches, well you guys were until Jade reminded you all that every single one of you guys fit into one or another cliche. After a movie or two, you guys ate dinner and just talked until the time came for sleep. Tori slept in her bed, Cat, You, and Jade played a human game of Tetris and managed to fit on the floor

    You tried to sleep, you did, but you just couldn't. So once you thought that everybody was asleep you grabbed your phone and scrolled endlessly through Twitter. An hour later and your eyes were getting more and more sensitive to the light, your arms slowly let go of your phone, and you fell asleep.  

You woke up in school, you heard nothing but your ragged breath. Everything around you was blurred, and from what you could see there were thick layers of fog. You could make out the familiar bright student decorated lockers that lead you to find out you were in the school. You stepped forward but all you saw was the fog. You walked the familiar way to your favorite acting teacher's room. You walked forward through the classroom door until you almost tripped over something on the floor. You knelt down to get a closer look, but you wished you hadn't. You had thought you just tripped over a chair or miss placed item, but what you tripped on was far worse. It was jade. A bloody Jade. A dead Jade. Your heart stopped, and you stopped. All you could do was stare. You wanted to scream, to run, to hug her, to help her. But all you could do was stare. Eventually, it stopped. You leaned forward and grabbed onto Jade's shoulders.

"Jade?!" Your voice echoed as if in a cave.

"Jade!" You shook her and screamed and cried.

"What happened? Jade? Fuck! No no no!"

    Her lips, looking both pale and blue but also a blood-red moved slightly, saying something.

Tears freely flowed down your face as you leaned in.

"Jade? What is it? Jade!"

No response.

You held her body close and cried, just cried. Although you heard a voice that only got louder.

"Wake up."

"Y/N."

"Wake up!"

You felt as if there was an earthquake and shut your eyes.

But once you opened them all you saw was black and blue hair that you knew to be Jade's. The same Jade that was just dead in your hands. Your arms flew around the familiar body and you held her close while your body shook in tears.

"cmon, Y/N. Up." She gripped your torse and helped you up from your makeshift sleeping bag on the floor to the living room.

You two sat on the couch, you were still crying, silently this time. And Jade was holding you. Long arms wrapped firmly around you, rubbing the small of your back. You weren't sure how long had passed since you woke from the horrible dream. but finally, your tears had dried and you pulled away from Jade.  

"Wanna talk about it?"

You didn't. Not one bit. But you knew she would be ever so worried if you didn't. So you pulled it together and nodded.

"It was um a dream- well no- a nightmare."

    Jade merely nodded along with every few words you said.

"I get really bad um nightmares, ever since I was little, that why I was in a bad mood when we arrived. Scared of doing what I just did."

"So what was this nightmare about?"

"You."

"oh?"

"I was uh in school, there was a fog, and uh I went to Mr.Sakowitz's room. You were there on the floor-" You started to tear up again. The image of your girlfriend on the floor flooding your mind once more.

"It's okay, Y/N."

"You were there on the floor... bloody, blue, and dead. And I wanted to scream I wanted to do something but I couldn't. All I could do was cry silently and stare. It was horrible Jade! Horrible!"

At this point, you were full-on crying again.

"Here how about this, you go wait in my car, I'll grab our things, and we can go to my house. Okay?"

"But I don't wanna impose- Cat was so happy for this."

"If you don't want to stay you don't have to, if they say anything about it I'll cut em up with my scissors. Okay? Now go," Jade fished through her purse that was thrown on the couch from earlier and handed them to you.

You took them and walked as quickly as you could to Jade's car that was parked out front.

After Jade climbed into the car and drove you back to her place, she made you tea, got out chips and other snacks, and took you down into what she likes to call her 'demon lair'.

You slowly sipped the hot tea while you pushed your body as far into Jade as it would go. You watched a silent film and slowly fell into a dreamless sleep.

Jade took your tea cup and put it on her side table, tucked you in, and held you close to her.

---------

    The next morning you woke up to Jade staring at you. "You watching me sleep, spooky lady?"

She shook her head at you and pressed a kiss into your cheek. "Morning,"

You tried to kiss her on the lips but she pulled back. "Morning breath, Y/N!"

Your own face scrunched up and you sat up.

"Sorry," With that you went up the stairs and into the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Jade took the time to call Cat, who she assumed would be up by now.

"Hi, Jadey!"

"Don't call me that, Cat"

"Sowwy!"

"Don't baby talk me either Cat!"

"Anyways. I was calling to say I was sor- sorr- I can't do it- I just- we left early because Y/N's mom needed her and I drove her home. I just didn't come back because it was my chance to escape."

"Okee Dokie! Is Y/N's mom okay?"

"Yeah just, bye."

Jade hung up and turned round to see you smiling at the foot of your bed.

You and Jade ended up meeting back up with Tori and Cat for a day out.

A/N: Woah! me updating- at a semi-decent time? Who knew that was possible, I didn't. I also completely forgot the men in this show existed for a hot second and forgot to write them in. Oops? I only went through this once so- do with that as you will. That is all from me! 

-tooth >:)

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

Like her - Bucky Barnes

Hello!! I did a thing... I big oops... I have no idea where this is going but honestly... gosh, Bucky is finally given the spotlight! Yes, I am talking about that trailer.  So, I guess bear with me? From what I feel, this is going to be ... quite the journey. Spoilers, if I accidentally am on to something? MASTERLIST Word Count~ 2k.  If you want to be tagged or you have an idea about this, please let me know!  Love you all! 

      Nothing made sense anymore. The world seemed to be upside down and he couldn’t find an anchor to hold on to. A thousand thoughts on his mind, past and future blurred into a chaotic present. He had found a still moment in the universe, after his best friend retired and that was the only way he could cope with the ever-changing situation.   

         He had believed that a new beginning was all that he needed; but before he could begin, he had to be free of his past and that he simply could not do. Working with Wilson was not his cup of tea, either. He was searching for meaning but maybe fulfillment wasn’t about what he had already done, maybe it was about the things he hadn’t and that was worse.                            It was simple mission; keep an eye on a questionable individual. Well, at least, that was what the files told him. Girl, early twenties, not a very interesting life – to him, at least, he thought. She might have loved studying and serving coffee to people she didn’t know just so she could earn her living. And a clue that linked her to an old enemy – Zemo. No one knew what their relationship was, or even if there was any. They had been able to pick up a single message sent from her phone to an unknown number that it was later identified as Zemo’s.                He was standing outside the coffee shop she was working, not knowing if he would be able to identify her; they only had a blurry picture of her – another clue that she was onto something as she was avoiding to be seen. Not that he could blame her for that. If she was working with the man that put him trough all of that a couple of years ago, he didn’t know if he would hand her over or…                    He walked inside, trying to appear as relaxed and nonchalant as possible, knowing that he would be awkward anyway. Sam could have done this, he thought, rolling his eyes at that. It was quite busy, actually, and the atmosphere was cozier than what he had expected. And so, he found the table that furthest away but had a good angle-view to keep an eye on the personnel and sat down. He scanned the place but there was no trace of the girl from the picture. He was pretending to read the menu so no one would come soon to take his order.                He was about to stand up and leave, having spent almost half an hour being a jerk and not ordering a thing, when a soft tornado rushed through the front door. He was left gawking at her for a moment and then quickly shook it off. She murmured an apology to her colleagues but they just smiled at her, as if they knew why she was late. He was able to distinct two words: application, problems. He cleared his throat and not a moment later, there she was.            “Hello! What can I get you?” she politely asked him, ready to take his order, not exactly looking at him. Whatever she was previously doing, affected her still. He was caught by surprise, because he actually never looked at the menu.                    “An americano and um, what do you suggest?” he had to act normal, he thought again. Maybe channel his inner long-lost self. She finally looked at him, with a questioning smile on her face. The picture they had was old and did not do her any justice.                “Our sour lemon bars are amazing” she informed him after a second of brainstorming. Sour, huh? He noticed her body language – she truly didn’t know who he was. Then again, without his long hair and a visible metal arm, not many people could recognize him. He nodded in agreement and she left.                    She was in a pretty bad mood. The application she had sent to the university was still not accepted, her computer broke down, she was barely making it by and she was tired having had zero sleep the night before, tormented by nightmares. She handed the order to Jackie and sat down, behind the bar. While Jackie was preparing everything, she was making herself a cup of coffee.                    “He is cute” she heard – and so did he, thanks to his enhanced senses. He was not used to being called cute or anything like that. Maybe an older version of him was pretty good with women – this one, not so much. He wasn’t bad, unlike Steve, but … something wasn’t there anymore.           She looked at him, for a split second before gulping her coffee down.                  “Better you than me” she whispered. The other girl was shocked.            “What happened?” she asked her, a ton of concern laced her voice and that captured his attention.              “I don’t know what to do” she said, almost desperate. As his lemon bars were being transferred to a beautiful plate, Jackie asked the one-million-dollar question.          “What about that guy? Helmut?”. That was all Bucky needed to add her to his suspect list – well, to cross off everyone else but her, really.            “Hasn’t delivered and I am running out of time” she murmured in fear of being heard. She was right to be afraid of that, he did eavesdrop. Bucky hoped that she would be the one to bring his coffee but unfortunately, another waiter came.                    For the better part of an hour, he tried to catch anything of importance, having already informed Sam. But there was nothing. She just did her job. Deciding that it was better to leave in order not to attract any kind of unwanted attention, he left the money on the table and walked out of the place, faster than he would have liked.            Who was she?        

           It had been pretty hard for her, lately. That roughly translated into more than ten years. She was used to being treated badly by life but she was standing right on the edge and she had nothing to grab onto to stop her fall. As long as she could remember, she was alone. The first person she had met was a grim old lady, telling her to stop crying otherwise the Sinnerman was going to eat her. Once she was at an age, she could understand what was happening, she was made aware she had no family – that wanted her, anyway – and that was why she had ended up there. It more of a torture-place than an orphanage.                    By the age of fifteen, she had achieved an early high school graduation, and her caretakers saw that she didn’t have the potentials to become the next prodigy, no matter the hard work. Being fifteen and on the streets was something she wished on nobody. She was smart, though – she got a job and soon was able to afford her own place. It was small but it was all she needed. A roof over her head, a bed and a shower.              Lately, things were just not easy. She hadn’t been paid for at least four months and she had no cushion of money to fall onto. Her landlord would kick her out any minute now, and she had no backup plan. Her study application hadn’t panned out yet and when a stranger reached her, promising her a ton of cash and a name, she didn’t think twice.            When she agreed to hack into a couple of databases, she had no idea who that person was. Only that he knew her parents and was willing to pay. That was all she needed, really. Little did she know, she was helping a criminal to get out of a life-long sentence. She tried to back away, but a single threat was more than enough to persuade her. She wasn’t used to knives being that close to her neck.            She had done her part, even though she regretted it, but he had still to deliver and she had no other option. She would stay awake, thinking why her? Out of all the hackers in the world, why her?            “Don’t worry! They’ll choose you, they would be stupid not to” Jackie told her, as she was ready to leave. She laughed at that.              “I am not gonna pay them, I am the one asking them for a fund. They would be stupid if they did choose me!” she explained again, waving her goodbye. She was closing up the place today. She didn’t mind. The later she got back to her place, the smaller the chances to meet her landlord. She liked working alone, being alone. That was why she had it easier than the other girls back in the day.  They struggled keeping up with the classes, the training, the killing. She did her job, and got on with her life. Well, at least until she was kicked out.                Placing the last cups back on their self, she heard the door opening and closing – footsteps were approaching her.                “I’m sorry, we’re closed” she chimed, as she turned around. That guy again. Yeah, alright, he was cute but her mind was warning her. He smiled – but it was forced and she saw it. Something wasn’t right.                  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see any sign” he said and it was true, she hadn’t put on the closed sign. He knew that she knew – but instead of making a run for it, she played along. Sam was waiting outside, car ready.            “Oh, yeah, that’s my bad” she calmly informed him, letting her towel down and picking up the sing to hang, moving slowly through the space. He recognized her moves but it couldn’t be. Her moves were familiar but not fully known. He was closing in. After a rather long eye-contact, she threw the metal sign at him, aiming his exposed neck, almost cutting him. She was strong.              All it took was two steps and they were engaged in a full-blown combat. He threw up his forearms like an offensive lineman blocking a defensive back, but she slipped to the side, pushed his elbow down and away, caught his head, and rolled him into the floor. Not even a second later, Bucky threw her off of him and was on his feet, watching her rush toward him in slow motion. He reached under his shirt even as he pushed past the tables. She did not try to stop the gun; she rolled his hand under his wrist, drove his arm over and back, and pulled him backward and down. She had the gun before he slammed into the floor, and was pointing it at him.              She wasn’t afraid to use it, and he was almost scared by the look on her face. He had seen that look before. He tackled her, grabbed her wrist with his right hand and held the gun hand against her chest, while he placed his left arm tightly around her neck. She headbutted him but neither flinched.              Before she could do anything, Sam placed a cloth on her mouth and nose and knocked her out.              “Took you long enough” he mused at an annoyed Bucky. He rolled his eyes at him, still very much confused as to why she knew those moves.                “I think she was trained for the Black Widow program” he let on, as he picked her up while Sam made everything to look as if nothing had happened. He even closed up the place.                    Bucky placed her on the backseat of the car. She wasn’t a Black Widow, yet her fighting style…                    “Who is she?” Sam asked as they were driving away. 

[2manyfandoms2count]

I love you (not) - Chapter 8

Somehow, this went over the 2k words mark. No wonder I'm running late on @marichatmay now. Oops? (I guess I just really like writing cooking scenes)

Hope you enjoy!

First | Previous | AO3 | Next

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Chapter 8: In which the kids think about kissing each other a lot, but it's still too early

Chat Noir’s heart was heavy as he made his way towards Marinette’s place.

He knew that his decision to break up with her was the right one; he’d kept up the charade long enough, and he wasn’t comfortable with the fact that she was reaching out for him through Ladybug. They’d undeniably spent some nice moments together, the memory of which he cherished dearly, but he was afraid that Marinette was getting too confident about the strength of their relationship (and the fact that he found himself thinking about her a lot hadn’t been an argument in favour of not playing along a little longer).

His already cloudy mood had further been dampened by the really sucky day he’d had. His father had come up with yet another fashion shoot, which had prevented him from attending the Kitty Section rehearsal he’d been looking forward to all week. Then, Lila had managed to get them paired up for a History project, which he wouldn’t have minded too much had it not been for the fact that she’d bragged all morning about a trip to New York she’d be making the week they were supposed to work on the task, meaning that he’d have to do all the work himself. Finally, to top everything off, an Akuma had interrupted the only free period he had for the rest of the week; it had been nice to see Ladybug, but he wished he’d used the time to collect his thoughts and rehearse what he’d say to Marinette.

He landed on her balcony with a loud thump, and knocked on her skylight.

“Just a minute!” she called out, and he heard her rifle around her room before running up her ladder and opening her skylight.

“Hi,” she beamed, slightly flushed and breathless, as she ushered him in.

He felt his heart clench in his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was better that she seemed in a great mood, but he didn’t have time to ponder on the topic too much; she tugged him down the stairs, and all but pushed him on her chaise, before reverently presenting him with a wrapped package.

“Happy birthday, kitty.” She bit her lip, anxiously waiting for him to open it.

Chat Noir toyed with it. He’d been so busy in the past week that his lie about his birthday had completely slipped his mind. He found himself in a difficult situation. Either he could come clean to her about his intentions, and apologise about everything he’d put her through, or… He could open Marinette’s present. Which, knowing her, would be very thoughtful and amazing. She looked very excited about it.

The temptation was too great.

“You remembered!” He gave her a small smile as his claws gently tore through the tape, and found himself with a neatly folded knitted, black product on his knees. He got up and held it out before him; he had to lift it for it not to drag on the floor, it was so long. She hadn’t just seen something that made her think about him. She must have spent ages working on it. For him .

The bright green paw in the middle, associated with the matching cotton sheet that lined the blanket left little doubt as to that fact.

Marinette’s smile falling and her rambling snapped him out from his silent admiration of the gift. He engulfed her in a hug, holding her close to compensate for his speechlessness.

“It’s purr-fect, Princess,” he croaked, letting go of her and clutching the blanket again. “I mean, look at this stitching; how did you manage to get it so regular? And this yarn…” He purred as he rubbed it against his cheek. “It’s so soft.”

“Well, you deserve something that isn’t scratchy,” Marinette giggled.

“But you didn’t have to go so hard on this! This could almost be… A cape!” He wrapped it around his shoulders, holding its two top corners with one hand, and bowed before her. “Your knight at your service, Princess.” He took her hand and kissed it with a wink, before immediately standing up and wrapping it around him differently, therefore missing Marinette’s tension and flush. “It works as a toga, too!”

“A very historically accurate one at that,” Marinette snorted.

“Hey, you don’t know what my predecessors wore.” He crossed his arms over his chest. The top of his makeshift toga fell over them. Marinette grabbed a couple of safety pins and moved closer to him to secure it back.

“Yes, you’re right. I’m utterly ignorant when it comes to past Miraculous wielders,” she said as she did so. “Mind teaching me about them?” She looked up at him. She was very close, for the second time in the evening, her eyes glinting mischievously in the almost half-light.

His breath hitched as the thought that he’d only have to lean in a tiny bit to kiss her curious smile off her lips crossed his mind.

His stomach rumbled, then, and he jumped back, feeling his cheeks redden. He was about to use it as an excuse to leave when he noticed the colours had drained from Marinette’s face.

“I’m so sorry Chat! I forgot to make you some macarons!” She gasped.

He almost laughed at how cute she was, but smiled tenderly instead, and held her shoulders. “Marinette, you made me a full blanket yourself in one week. I’m good without the macarons.”

“But you don’t have a birthday cake, and you’re hungry, and ugh, how could I forget...” She rubbed her eyes frustratedly.

His stomach manifested itself again, proving her point. With all his interruptions, he wasn’t sure he’d eaten more than an apple since breakfast. He really should be going to right that wrong.

“Okay, that settles it.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her trap door. He quickly stepped out of the blanket and tossed it back on her chaise; it wasn't very practical to walk in. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she started to open it. “My parents are sleeping, I think, so we’ll go down to the bakery kitchen. We’ll need to be quiet, though.”

“Okay,” he whispered back.

They cautiously sneaked down the stairs, stopping at any floorboard creak, hearts racing as they listened for any movement. They remained silent even after Marinette had carefully closed the front door of the apartment behind them, holding each other’s hand tightly, as if the stakes were much higher than Chat being sent home and Marinette to bed if they were discovered.

“It’s a bit late to make macarons, but how do you feel about chouquettes?” Marinette hid a sly grin as she turned the light on in the kitchen. She knew exactly what he thought about them.

“That seems like an excellent option.” Chat’s eyes lit up hungrily.

“Good. Could you turn on the oven? 250°C.” She indicated, while she took out the ingredients.

“Oui, Chef.” He executed. “What next?”

“If you could measure out 250mL of milk, then pour it in this saucepan,” she handed him a carton of milk and a measuring jug, before putting the saucepan on a hob and adding other ingredients to it. He followed her instructions, then, seeing as there was barely any left in the container, chugged the remainder, before sighing contently and throwing the carton over his shoulder, without looking. It landed straight in the dustbin.

Marinette paused in the middle of cutting the butter, baffled.

“What?” Chat asked when she’d stood there, blinking, for a couple of minutes.

“I’m sorry, what was that ?” She shook her head and waved her knife between him and the dustbin.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t ask if it was alright for me to finish it,” he said sheepishly. “I can buy you another-”

“I’m not talking about that, although maybe I should, because how stereotypical that you, a cat superhero, should drink milk,” she waved his apology away, raking the butter into the pan. “I’m talking about your aim. Do you play basketball?”

“Sometimes.” Chat scratched the back of his head. It wasn’t exactly true. He’d just perfected the art of landing baskets from any angle of his room out of boredom; it’d been his biggest challenge for a while.

“Maybe you should try out for a team or something.” She handed him four eggs, a bowl and a whisk. He started breaking them.

“If my schedule clears up, maybe.” He doubted his father would encourage the idea. He’d repeated that Agreste men were soloists enough times that Adrien sometimes heard it in his dreams; and unlike fencing, basketball was a team sport.

“Oh, right. Of course.” Marinette nodded. She hesitated to probe further; on the one hand, she was curious about what her partner was up to outside of their duties; it was difficult to probe how he was holding up, sometimes. On the other hand, she was afraid of learning too much about him. She decided to change the subject. “Could you gradually add the eggs to this while I mix?”

“Of course!” He cleared his throat. “These really aren’t hard to make, could you write the recipe down for me so I can make them again at home?” This was going to make great patrol snacks. He was sure Ladybug would appreciate them.

“Yep, no problem!” She finished stirring the ingredients together and pulled out a baking tray and two piping bags. She poked around for greaseproof paper while Chat filled the latter with the batter, before remembering that her parents had mentioned that they’d ran out over dinner.

“Hmm, this isn’t the most traditional way, but we’ll put some flour on the tray and then pipe the chouquettes directly on it. Would you mind taking care of that while I get the sugar?”

Chat nodded, grabbing the bag. He started sprinkling the surface, reaching in the packet every so often. It made the flour fly out a little, tickling his nose. He scrunched it, trying to get rid of the sensation, but it was no use.

He turned away from the tray and prepared to sneeze, instinctively putting the hand that still contained flour in front of his nose… Just as Marinette came back next to him.

“Achoo!” White powder flew everywhere, and Marinette jumped back.

“Ew, Chat!” She exclaimed, quickly dusting it off of her.

“I’m so sorry!” His eyes widened and he bit his lower lip, trying to contain his smile at her bewildered face. He had to admit, white hair looked nice on Marinette.

How cute , Marinette thought, before mentally slapping herself. No matter how true the statement was, it wasn’t helping at all. She reached for the packet and threw a fistful of flour at him to distract herself.

“Hey!”

“An eye for an eye!” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Is it really, though? I didn’t do it on purr-pose,” he said as his eyes landed on the flour packet.

Marinette started backing away, seeing exactly where he was going. “Now, now, no need to be rash about this, remember, we still have to cook the chou- eek!” She started running around the kitchen island as Chat sprung into a chase.

“Come back here, you little scoundrel!”

“Chat please! Think about your poor stomach!” She switched direction as Chat did the same.

“It can wait.” He grinned, gracefully leaping over the island.

Marinette squeaked again as she jumped out of his way, but found herself stuck between two shelving units. Chat approached her slowly, his devilish smile getting wider as the distance between them vanished. He pulled a fistful of flour out of the bag, and she felt her heart beat faster in her chest. Not just because of the imminent threat.

“I’m sorry Chat, I shouldn’t have done that…” She trailed off, backing herself further against the wall. “But this is going to make a mess, think about the clean up…” She pleaded.

Chat paused, his fist above her head losing a bit of its contents. She blinked slowly. Cat kisses, he thought. His eyes flickered to her lips. He wondered what it’d be like to kiss her, for real. He dared not go down that route.

“You’re right.” He shook his head, and brought his arm down, releasing the flour he’d been holding in the packet. “If I’m going to make a mess…” He paused, taking a small step back, and Marinette sighed in relief. “Better do it right.” He lifted the packet and emptied it all on her head.

“What the-” Marinette spluttered out, starting to get rid of it. She heard Chat laugh as he watched her, without so much as offering his help.

“Say cheese!” She was suddenly blinded by a flashing light, and her head shot up.

“Sorry, had to immortalise the moment.” Chat grinned, showing her the picture on his baton.

She glowered at him, and he moved out of her reach, just in case she decided to retaliate.

“You can’t be mad at me, I’m the birthday boy!”

She rolled her eyes, the hint of a smile forming on her lips as she finished dusting off most of the flour from her clothes and went to fetch the broom. Little did he know, she couldn’t be mad at him at all, since, A, she supposed that she’d been in the wrong in the first place, and B, it was him . Not that she’d admit it out loud, though. “I guess you’re right. You’d better hurry up making the chouquettes, then, else I’m putting you on broom duty.”

Chat happily complied.

---

As he left Marinette’s house, a full packet of warm Chouquettes in hand (he’d made his choice between it and the blanket), he had to admit to himself that even though he hadn’t accomplished his goal, it didn’t really matter.

There’d be plenty of other opportunities to talk to her, and he couldn’t say no to the opportunity of having fun; they were too rare an occurrence to pass up on.

[amyscascadingtabs]

rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky

It’s the perfect little getaway, exactly what they needed. It would be even better if she could only stop thinking.

“So, tell me.” Jake holds her hand over the table, forcing her back to reality. “Five top moments for us 2019, go. Countdown-stylez.”

Three different New Year's Eves, as celebrated by Jake and Amy (and Mac).

read on ao3 💕

december 31st, 2019.

The hotel guests checking in before Jake and Amy are a family. A little girl with blonde hair, maybe four or five years old, is carrying her own pink backpack and making up dance steps around her father’s feet as he goes through the information with the receptionist, and an even younger boy is hiding behind his mother’s legs as he watches the people in the lobby with wide eyes. Looking up, Amy realizes that the mother’s open coat is revealing a baby bump, too. She’d put her at six, maybe seven months pregnant. Three kids. Amy feels a pang of jealousy.

Even with the observation skills of an experienced detective, it shocks her how good she’s become at picking out families and pregnant women in any crowd. It’s an interesting talent, but measured against the pain it causes her, Amy wouldn’t call it a very useful one. She notices Jake looking at the kids as well, a daydreaming look on his face, and somehow, that makes her pain worse.

The idea behind going away to a hotel upstate for New Year’s was so they could get away from the stress for a moment; go somewhere else, rest and relax, forget about the pregnancy master calendar they’ve stared themselves blind at for a few days. Amy didn’t realize how impossible it would be to get away from all the other reminders.

She draws a breath of relief when the family in front of them gets the keys to their room, the little girl running first towards the elevator and her brother laughing as he chases after.

“Cute kids,” Jake whispers, watching them longingly.

“Yeah.” Amy tries not to think about the negative pregnancy test she threw away in the bathroom trashcan before they left. “Really cute.”

//

“I’m excited you said we could drink tonight.” Jake toasts his White Russian with her glass of Sauvignon. “It’s been a while.”

“I know, “ Amy feels the guilt wash over her. “Well, it’s not New Year’s Eve every day. I think we’ve earned it.” And I already took a negative test, she thinks.

“We sure have.” He gives her a closer look, pressing his lips together like he always does when he’s worried about her. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Just tired,” she says. It’s not technically a lie. “I didn’t sleep that well last night.”

“Lucky we have a huge hotel bed to help with that tonight, then. Seriously, this place rocks.”

Amy’s prepared to agree on that part – she did her research the moment it stood clear they would both get New Year’s Eve off. After getting their room, they’ve spent the evening getting massages in the hotel spa, dining at the surprisingly nice restaurant, and now they’re admiring the view from the bar on the top floor, waiting for the fireworks. It’s the perfect little getaway, exactly what they needed. It would be even better if she could only stop thinking.

“So, tell me.” Jake holds her hand over the table, forcing her back to reality. “Five top moments for us 2019, go. Countdown-stylez.”

“Number five!” She rolls the r and holds on the i, earning herself an amused look from the older couple next to them. “Okay, I’m going to go with… that date you took me on for my birthday. I can’t believe you got into the puzzle bar this time!”

“I might have convinced the guard to let me in because it was your birthday, but still a good one. Number fooo-uur… the Cinco de Mayo-heist. God, that was fun, even if the tasing hurt like a bitch.”

“Agreed. Number three – when Holt finally invited us to that dinner party and I almost didn’t lose my cool once.”

“You keep telling yourself that, babe. Number two… the Jake way. Seriously, I still think we should try that again. It was awesome.”

“It was, but also way inappropriate,” she reminds him, but he just shrugs. “Number one, then.”

“I know which one is mine, but you go first.”

Amy swallows, then sighs. “Mine is after the manhunt. When we decided to start trying. That’s still my favorite moment.”

“Mine, too.” Jake looks her in the eyes, and she knows the bittersweet feeling is shared. “It’s going to happen, Ames. I know it. Maybe this month’s the one.”

Amy doesn’t have the strength to correct him, tell him she’s already taken an early test and that she’s lacking any confidence there’s going to be a second line when she tests again in a couple of days. Luckily, she doesn’t have to, because right then, the fireworks that have been going off a few at a time in the distance begin to multiply as the countdown starts.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

Amy leans forward so she can be kissing him already when the new year begins.

Three, two, one… happy new year!

The crowd around them erupts into cheers as the sky glows with colorful explosions when burning bits of metal lighting up the darkness outside. Jake kisses her deeper, seeming to forget that there are people around with a bit of alcohol in his system and his hands cupping her face. For a moment, Amy lets herself just be happy.

~

december 31st, 2020.

The instant Amy closes her eyes for the more-than-well-deserved nap Jake told her to take while he made dinner, Mac begins to cry from his crib again.

“McClane, please,” Amy pleads, as if reasoning with her two-month-old would solve his discontent. “You can't seriously be hungry again, that’s insane.”

She tries with the pacifier first, checking his diaper, even standing up and walking around with him for a bit to eliminate anything else, but Mac is still clenching his fists and only looking even more furious with her, so Amy gives in. She sits down with him again, unhooks one side of the bra and lets him find his grip, exhaling when the peaceful suckles begin and the desperate crying finally ceases. She swears it looks like her son is side-eyeing her for taking too long, but to her defense, she fed him for a good forty-five minutes only a little over an hour ago and it's exhausting being used like a human pacifier. Growth spurt, Camila Santiago said when Amy called her in tears yesterday, and the problem-shooting section in the 0-3 months baby-binder had agreed. Amy would argue that sounds way too innocent for something which is turning her otherwise happy and smiley baby into a constantly hungry and crying mini-monster who won't close his eyes for more than twenty minutes at a time.

There's a soft knock on the door after a few minutes, and Jake peeks in. He’s wearing his fancy kitchen apron, which Charles gave him for Christmas with the comment that there’s nothing sexier than a dad who can cook. It hasn’t magically improved his cooking skills, but Amy’s willing to admit that it does look good on him.

“You guys doing okay?”

“He is, for now. I’m going crazy. How’s our dinner going?”

“Well, I haven’t burnt it yet, but there’s still time,” he grimaces, sitting down at the foot of the bed. “Do you need anything, babe?”

“Sleep, but that’s not going to happen.” Amy rubs her eyes. “It’s fine. He’s got to fall asleep at some point, though, this is nuts.”

“Don’t challenge him, he’s breaking records,” Jake says, leaning forward to tickle Mac’s feet. Mac reacts by kicking at the boob he’s not currently feeding from, making Amy curse. “Oops, sorry. Anyway, I’m sure he will fall asleep at some point, and we can have a nice, calm New Year’s dinner. I mean, he has to be exhausted, right?”

“God, I hope so. I’m starving.” She can see Mac’s eyelids getting heavy, but every time she thinks they’re about to fall closed, it’s like he twitches and stares at her, wide awake. “He’s lucky he’s cute.”

Jake grins. “Lucky indeed.”

Mac starts pulling away at that moment, a little bit of milk still dribbling from his cheeks. Amy reaches for one of the muslin blankets that’s never more than a few feet away in their home nowadays, lifting him so he’s upright against her shoulder and patting him on the back. She expects a burp, but instead, she gets an unpleasant surprise when he spits up, managing to get sour baby puke down her back and in her already greasy hair. She groans, giving Jake an exhausted look when she sees him stifling a chuckle.

“Hey, I’ll take him. You go take a shower and I’ll put him in the BabyBjörn. Maybe that will do it.”

“That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said,” Amy mumbles, and she’s not entirely kidding.

She makes the shower as long as she possibly can. Most days, she has to shower with Mac in the baby bouncer on the bathroom floor, so even the chance to be alone in the bathroom for more than five minutes feels like a luxury. She lets the shampoo really lather and the conditioner take its time to sink in, trying to massage the knots in her neck and shoulders under the hot water. She can hear Mac still fussing from the kitchen, and it makes her feel guilty even though he’s barely left her arms today.

“He’s fine,” she whispers to herself like a mantra. “He’s fine. Jake can handle it. He’s perfectly fine. Everything’s okay. You deserve this.”

She still skips the make-up and nicer clothes she had been planning to put on, throwing on a pair of maternity leggings and one of Jake’s old hoodies instead.

The dinner looks fantastic, some sort of chicken baked in the oven with rice and a lemon sauce, and Amy’s actually impressed. She imagines it would have been even nicer if she could have eaten it warm and together with Jake, but they only make it through toasting in orange soda and the first two bites before Mac wakes up from his ten-minute-nap, wailing as if he truly believed he’d just been abandoned. They end up having to take turns eating and walking laps around the living room with him, because he starts crying again if they stop moving for a second or as much as make an attempt to put him down. Amy is suddenly relieved they said no to her brother Tony’s New Year’s party-invite.

She can barely believe it when after what feels like the fiftieth or so feed of the day, Mac falls asleep. Curled up like a little frog on her chest and letting out the cutest of baby snores, he finally seems to relax, and Amy doesn’t even dare to breathe too sharply for the first ten minutes. Eventually, though, once it seems like he’s not going to wake up from the slightest movement or a raised voice anymore, Jake tucks them both in under a blanket and gets the Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and orange soda from the fridge. Then he gets another blanket for himself, and they snuggle up together in the corner of the sofa in front of the tv. From live footage at Times Square, Amy can see crowds of people waiting for the ball to drop.

“Wishing you were there?” Jake winks, but she just laughs.

“Are you kidding? Cold, crowded, and you can never even get a good view. This is better in every way.” She strokes her thumb over Mac’s dark hair. “I have this one and you. That’s all I need. And ice cream,” she adds, digging out a piece of cookie dough from the tub.

“You’re right, it’s pretty damn close to perfection. Top five moments of 2020?”

Amy shakes her head, pointing to Mac. “No point. They’re all about him, anyway, and they’re all too good to compare.”

“True that.” Jake shakes his head. “Hey, isn’t it crazy that although he’s been kind of a nightmare today, I’ve already forgiven him?”

“No, it makes perfect sense, because I’ve almost wanted to give him away several times and now I can’t even remember why.”

“Having a baby makes us kind of crazy, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely. I wouldn’t change it for the world, though.”

“Me neither. Not even if I was offered a role in the next Die Hard-movie and Taylor Swift did the soundtrack.”

“That’s pretty big,” Amy laughs, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Would Taylor Swift do the soundtrack for Die Hard, though? Realistically speaking?”

“It’s a daydream, Ames!”

She has no time for a comeback, though, because right then, the countdown starts on the tv and Jake raises the volume a few bars so they can hear.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

p;

“New Year’s kiss,” Amy says, holding Mac up slightly so they can both reach him.

Three, two, one… happy new year!

They both smother his cheeks with kisses at the same time as the fireworks explode over the sky in the distance outside their windows and the crowd begins to cheer on tv. Mac doesn’t even flinch, completely oblivious to the celebrations going on outside. Amy sighs.

“How can he magically sleep through all of this, but wake up the second I put him down in his crib at night?”

Jake shrugs. “Babies, man.”

~

december 31st, 2021.

Amy has only started to take off Mac’s winter overall before he starts trying to flee, kicking wildly with his boots and pointing towards the kitchen where he’s already spotted Rosa. Jake notices her struggle and is quick to help her, and the instant the toddler is free, he hurries off towards his best friend.

“Wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo!”

“Mac! Hey, happy new year, man!” Before Amy can even take off her own jacket, Mac is already in Rosa’s arms and babbling excitedly as he plays with her gold necklace. Amy wonders how much of what Mac’s saying actually makes sense to Rosa, but she’s nodding and smiling and seems to have abandoned whoever she was previously talking to in favor of the one-year-old.

“Jake. Amy.” Kevin appears to take their coats, shaking their hands. “Welcome. Drinks and hors d’oeuvres are in the living room, and I see your small child has made himself at home.”

“He found Rosa, yep.” Jake grins. “And he has a name.”

“Ah, yes… McClane.” Kevin nods. “Very well. I have to go check on… the kitchen. Enjoy your evening.”

  “He’s never going to like me,” Jake whispers to Amy the moment he’s left.

“Well, I think we both might have lost a few points with the name choice, babe.”

“He’s one to talk names, he’s got a dog named after a cheese!”

“I know, but we can’t tell him that. Come on, Jake, I have to find something to chew on before I get sick.”

“You can always blame it on the alcohol, if you do.”

“Jake.”

“Just kidding,” he grins. “You go check on Mac and Rosa and I’ll locate the snacks.”

 It turns out Rosa is more than willing to guard Mac for the evening, currently showing him the model train she's found in the library. Mac is watching with focus as Rosa helps him turn on the button that makes the train drive around the tracks, laughing as it lets out a choo-choo sound.

“Your son is much cooler than the rest of these lame partygoers,” she shrugs when Amy asks her if she's sure it's fine. “He says what he's thinking, unlike the rest of all these dum-dums.”

“Dum-dums,” Mac repeats, proud. Rosa nods.

“Exactly. I’ll call you if something happens.”

 And so, in an unexpected turn of events, Amy finds herself able to sit down for most of the evening without having to chase a wild toddler around to keep him from whatever dangers he could somehow manage to get himself into in Holt’s and Kevin’s house. She supposes it looks quite antisocial of her, and maybe it is, but she’s six weeks pregnant and the early symptoms of nausea and fatigue seem to be coming on both stronger and faster the second time around, so Amy doesn’t really care. She’s got lemon sparkling water for a non-alcoholic drink, a paper plate of carrot sticks, salted crisps and almonds, and she’s not going to talk to anyone unless they sit down next to her. It’s practically heaven. Jake checks on her from time to time, assuring her multiple times that they can just leave early if she wants to, but however tired she feels, Amy doesn’t want to insult Holt that badly. They’re staying until midnight as per proper New Year’s party etiquette, and then — and not a second later — they can go home so she can crash in bed.

 Rosa finds her again when Mac begins to get sleepy, rubbing his eyes and yawning but still shaking his head when Amy asks if he's feeling a little tired. He crawls over to her arms anyway, laying his head on her shoulder and hugging his arms around her chest.

“Thanks for looking after him,” she tells Rosa, but she just shrugs.

“No worries. I don't get to hang out with him enough. Your kid is dope.”

“Douh,” Mac whispers, mimicking her, and Rosa laughs.

“Repeats every word you tell him, too,” Amy says. “Yeah, he’s pretty awesome. Come over to our apartment at five-thirty in the morning on any weekend and you can hang out with him all you want. I won't stop you.”

Rosa scrunches her nose. “I’ll consider it.”

“He’s in a great mood then, I can assure you that.”

“I'll take your word for it. Also, Jake was tipsy talking baby names with some etymology professor when I saw him last, and he seemed very intense about it for a guy who's not currently thinking of naming any new babies. Or?” She raises an eyebrow.

“No, he just get thats intense when somebody implies McClane is a weird name,” Amy says, and makes a note to herself to remind Jake about their agreement not to tell anyone else at least until the twelve-week mark. “Which, to be fair, I warned him that people would think. But here we are anyway.”

“It is a weird name. Couldn’t imagine him being called anything else, though, even if I still don’t understand why you agreed to it.”

“There was a really good PowerPoint involved.”

Rosa looks at her questioningly, but Amy shakes her head, knowing there’s no point in explaining the unexplainable.

“Hmm. You guys are weird. You make pretty great kids, though.”

“Yeah.” Mac has fallen asleep by now, drooling a little bit on Amy’s shoulder. She kisses the top of his head and thinks of the abstract idea of her second kid, the thump-thump of an already present heartbeat they got so lucky as to hear on an early ultrasound yesterday. “The best.”

 As midnight draws closer, most of the guests take on jackets, scarves and shoes to venture out into the garden to watch fireworks. Not wanting to be left out, Amy and Jake manage to get a half-sleeping Mac, who wakes up suddenly interested when he hears about the promise of fireworks, into his overall and join them. It’s a surprisingly good view from the garden, the cold winter air waking them up, and Jake points out the vibrant displays in the sky to a drowsy Mac, who blinks at them dazedly. It’s so cute it makes Amy tear up. Being both a mom and newly pregnant does that to her; she’s given up trying to fight it.

  It’s hard to believe that two years ago, she was toasting in champagne in a hotel bar and wondering if they would ever make a baby together, and now she’s standing in a garden watching Jake with their one-year-old son and knowing that next New Year’s, if all goes well, they’ll be parents of two.

“What are you thinking of?” Jake must see her tears, because he looks worried, but Amy just smiles.

“Just how quickly things can change. How happy I am. And how much I love you.”

“Love you, too. Top three-hundred-and-sixty-five moments of this year,” Jake says, hugging her close so they’re standing in a little family bubble. “Every single day I get to wake up with and then come home to my family.”

  Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

  They both lean in so they can smother their son with kisses, and he laughs as he figures out what’s about to happen.

 Three, two, one… happy new year!

  The sky explodes with color, Jake and Amy attack their son with kisses, and as the new year begins, Amy thinks she might just be the luckiest person in the entire world.

~

[wwitbeyondmeasure]

Summer at the Burrow / r.w. fan fiction

Previous Chapters

Introduction / Author’s Note / Chapter 1: The Journey to the Burrow / Chapter 2: Hidden Letters / Chapter 3: Ron’s Return / Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations / Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise / Chapter 6: The Quidditch Match / Chapter 7: Girl Talk / Chapter 8: Aphrodite’s Push / Chapter 9: Mistakes and Love Potions

Chapter 10: You Would be Fine

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Thank you so much for all the love and support for this fic, it means so much to me :) Get prepared because this chapter is a lengthy one (about 4,200 words I think...oops). Also, the gif has nothing to do with the chapter I just thought Ron looked really cute lol. Okay anyways enjoy!!!

You were fine. Really you were.

Every time Hermione or Ginny gave you a concerned look while passing, you could easily plaster on an "I'm-good-everything-is-good-thanks-for-asking" smile onto your face.

In reality though, your heart hurt ever damn day.

About 2 weeks ago, Ron broke your heart. Under the oak tree outside, he told you that whatever happened between you was a mistake. Mistake. So instead of moping around for the rest of your summer vacation, you tried to be happy. During the day time you would laugh and joke with the Weasleys, help make meals, finish your school work, and do chores. But at night is when you finally let yourself feel your heartbreak. Once everyone fell asleep, you would creep down the stairs and sit underneath the oak tree, and cry.

It was therapeutic, kind of. With each passing night, you felt better. Yes, it still hurt seeing Ron's freckled face every morning at breakfast. And it still made your skin and body ache when he accidentally brushed up next to you in the tight kitchen. But you were okay.

You knew that if you let Ron fully see how heartbroken you were, it would change the dynamic between you. You were best friends, and nothing more. No matter how much you loved him, that's all you would ever be. Instead of jeopardizing the friendship you had come to cherish so greatly, you simply suppressed your love for Ron so you could maintain it. And it was working, king of.

The night after your heartbreak at the oak tree, you started treating Ron exactly as you had before you came to the Burrow, before you had let your emotions run wild. He reciprocated this and before long, you were best friends again. You played Quidditch on each other's team, joked around with Fred and George, tried the newest Weasley Wizard Wheezes products (though you stayed away from the love potions), and played wizard's chess together. Although your heart still skipped a beat whenever Ron leaned closer to you, everything was back to normal with your best friend.

Over the past 2 weeks, you had been alternating between sleeping in Ginny's room for sleepovers, the bed in the attic, or the couch in the living room. Ron didn't offer his room to you again, which made you sad but you understood. If you were alone with him late at night when your emotions were high, your cover of "nope-i-don't-love-him-we-are-just-best-friends" was going out the window. So you stuck to your usual 3 beds.

That morning, you had awoken from the attic bed bright and early. Hermione had been getting the girls up at 8am for the past 2 weeks so that you could finish your school work early in the morning and have the rest of the day to relax. Although you hated her every morning for this, you were glad she had such a strict regimen because you had all finished your homework yesterday. Now, for the rest of the summer you were homework free.

By now you were so used to waking up early that it was no longer a surprise for anyone to see you help cook breakfast with Mrs Weasley. Besides Hermione, you two were usually the first awake and in the kitchen right away. This morning was no different as you padded down the creaky wooden steps into the kitchen.

"Good morning Mrs Weasley," you greeted her, tying an apron around your waist. There were four aprons in the Weasley house; a floral one designated for Mrs Weasley, a dark blue one for Mr Weasley when he would attempt to use a muggle grill, a plain white one for whoever decided to help cook, and a yellow one with stars for you. Mrs Weasley even spelled your name, y/n, on the edge in elegant cursive.

"For my newest child," she has said when she showed it to you. She pinched your cheeks, the way she did with all of her kids, and the action almost made you tear up. You threw your arms around her in a tight hug and thanked her profusely.

Mrs Weasley smiled approvingly at you as you started on the breakfast. As the usual morning rhythm took place, you cherished the routine of cracking the eggs, putting them in pans, flipping them, and then doing the same thing again and again.

But soon, Mrs Weasley's voice broke the silence. "Sweetheart, what happened with Ron?" she asked.

Your head snapped up from the frying pan, your eyes meeting Mrs Weasley's. She looked at you with motherly concern, and for some reason you couldn't look at her loving face and lie to her.

"I don't think he feels the same way that I do about him," you stated, turning your attention back to cooking.

Mrs Weasley huffed. "Well, my son has never been the sharpest boy, as you know," she said. You giggled, though you were still sad, and she smiled at you. "Maybe things will change honey," she told you, "love happens unexpectedly."

Before you got the chance to reply, thundering footsteps sounded from the staircase. You whipped your head around to see the twins barreling down the steps, practically tripping over one another in their hurry.

"Where's the fire?" you asked.

Fred ran across the room, picked you up around the waist, and spun you around.

"Percy's home! His work is called off for the week because of his birthday!" He shouted excitedly. You laughed, swatting at him with your spatula until he set you down.

"I didn't know you two were so excited to see your brother," Mrs Weasley noted, fixing her sons with a stern and skeptical stare.

"Oh mother, we're not," George replied.

"We're excited to mess with him for a week straight," Fred added with the largest grin you had ever seen.

As soon as the words left his mouth, more of a promise than anything else, the front door swung open and in entered the most prestigious Weasley of the house. With his rigorous work schedule, you hadn't seen Percy once this entire summer. But now, here he was, standing in the kitchen in a three piece suit with a pocket watch and shiny black shoes at 8 in the morning.

"Hi Percy," you said, trying your best not to laugh at the long tail of his suit coat.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Fred asked, his face shocked as he took in Percy's outfit. George's face was bright red as he held in his laughter.

"This," Percy said, unironically spinning so everyone could see his outfit, "Is traditional Muggle-wear. As I climb higher in the Ministry's success ladder, sometimes I have to encounter Muggles, so I must dress accordingly. This particular suit was a gift from one of my many clients."

He turned to you and you tried to wipe the teasing smile off your face. "Y/n, this is what muggles wear to their jobs, isn't it?" he asked.

You schooled your features into seriousness. "Oh yes," you responded, "definitely."

At that moment, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione stumbled down the stairs, looking like they had just woken up. Everyone stayed up late last night playing nighttime Quidditch (an especially difficult yet fun game considering the fact that you can't see the bludgers because of how dark it is).  

Ron froze when he saw Percy standing in the kitchen, his shoes so shiny they were reflecting the kitchen lights into the eyes of anyone who looked at them.

"Bloody hell, what happened to your clothes?" he asked incredulously. Him and Harry shared a look and then burst out in laughter.

Percy's ears turned pink at the tips as he huffed before sitting down in one of the chairs around the kitchen table. You and Mrs Weasley decorated the center of the table with plate after plate of delicious warm breakfast food. Proud of your hard work, you took off your apron and sat down next to Percy.

Ron sat down next to you as the others joined the table.

"For your information, Ronald, your girlfriend says my clothes are the proper Muggle attire," Percy said, glaring at his little brother.

"She's not my girlfriend," Ron responded, his ears turning pink now too.

"How's Penelope?" you asked Percy before you could let yourself get too caught up in the fact that you really wanted Ron's response to that question to be different.

Percy smiled at the mention of his longtime girlfriend, who had been a Prefect at Hogwarts with him. "Oh she's fantastic," Percy said before launching into a long-winded story about Penelope's latest project she was working on at the ministry. Words such as "top-secret" "highly important" and "imperative job" floated past your ears.

Ron leaned closer to you and mumbled in your ear, "I wish you hadn't asked him that."

"Me too," you whispered back, giggling behind your hand.

As breakfast began, you were proud of all the compliments you received on your cooking. Waking up early to cook with Mrs Weasley was a part of the day you always looked forward too, and the compliments only made you feel better about it.

After everyone finished eating, and cleared their plates, chairs scraped against the wood of the floor as everyone prepared to go about their daily business.

"Wait!" Percy shouting, using his wand to spell everyone back into their chairs. "Nobody leave this table until we discuss my birthday party details."

Theses past few weeks your brain had been so focused on Ron that you had forgotten Percy's huge birthday party that was taking place at the Burrow next week. From the guilty expressions of everyone else around the table, you could tell they had forgotten too.

"I want this party to be perfect," Percy said. "My bosses are coming to this party, as is Penelope, so I will not tolerate any shenanigans." He fixed his eyes on the twins and gave them an icy glare. "I mean it, no funny business."

Fred and George saluted him, shouting "yes mother" before jumping out of their chairs and running to their room. A memory flashed in your head from the beginning of summer. The twins were showing you fireworks in their room, "special fireworks for Percy's party" they had said. There was definitely going to be some shenanigans taking place.

Increasingly interested about what kind of pranks the twins were going to pull on Percy, you excused yourself from the table and followed them upstairs. You were about to knock on their door before it swung open and Fred dragged you inside.

"Can I have a sneak peek?" you asked them giddily as soon as the door closed behind you. Apart from the twins, you were the most excited about their funny products and pranks they always pulled. You knew Percy's party wasn't going to disappoint.

Instead of reciprocating your excitement, the twins traded nervous glances.

"What is it?" you asked them. You felt a strange sense of deja vu to the time when they picked you up to drive you to the Burrow in the beginning of summer. They were hiding something from you then, and they were certainly hiding something from you now.

"So we take it you're not going to tell Ron about your unconditional love for him anytime soon?" George asked, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish expression on his face. Fred was ringing his hands nervously next to him.

"That is correct," you responded flatly.

"Well, you see," Fred began, "When we ordered these special fireworks for Percy's party, we assumed you two would be dating and in love by the time of the party. And the thing is, there's no refunds on the fireworks, so we kind of have to use them." He spoke so fast that the words were tumbling together in your head.

"Okay...what does that mean? What do the fireworks have to do with Ron and I?" you asked, getting increasingly more upset by the moment.

The twins must have sensed your anger because they traded a quick glance before assuring you "Okay, never mind, love, everything is under control," Fred promised.

"Yep, totally under control," George said, steering you out of the room. You didn't even register what they were saying before you were standing in the hallway.

"What aren't you telling me?" you asked, eyes narrowing into a glare at the twins.

They both gulped nervously.

"Don't worry about it, y/n, everything is fine. Percy's party will be full of lots of laughs and fun," Fred promised, before promptly shutting the door in your face. Once again, you got deja vu.

And with that, you left the twins room, feeling even more confused about your relationship with Ron than ever.

                                                                                              ...

The next week was frantic, hectic, and insane as you all scrambled to prepare for Percy's big party. Decorations needed to be made, food needed to be cooked, and you totally forgot to get Percy a present. After a day trip to Diagon Alley, you had returned home with a bag of more owl food for Dite and a magical watch for Percy. Despite all of the high energy and excitement in the house, the twins words still weighed on you. The party was quickly approaching and you had yet to "confess your unconditional love" to Ron. What would happen if you didn't? You didn't even want to think about it.

It was the night before Percy's party, and you were in the garden helping Bill string up lights around the outdoor tables. You and Bill had been spending a lot more time together over the past week. Bill had always opted to help you in whatever decoration or cooking you were tasked with for that day. Although you could tell that made Ron grumpy, you tried to ignore it. Your feelings were confusing enough without trying to unpack Ron's jealousy at the moment.

You wobbled on the chair you were standing on as you tied the last string of lights around the nearest tree branch. After you finished, you put your hands on your hips and took a look around the garden. It looked amazing. 10 tables were arranged in a neat circle around the yard, completed with white table clothes and centerpieces with Percy's photo in the middle. You bought a couple packs of muggle Christmas lights to hang from the trees to illuminate the area, which Mr Weasley was very happy about. He spent about 2 hours asking you about the mechanics behind muggle electricity.

There was a long table for the buffet to be served at and a short circular table for Percy's gifts to be placed on. At the corner of the garden the twins had set up a firing booth for the fireworks. To be totally honest, the decoration fit more for a wedding than a birthday party, but Percy wanted things to be perfect, so the family followed his decoration ideas to a tee.

While being distracted by observing your handiwork, you weren't really paying attention to what was happening behind you. This was unfortunate because Harry and Ron were practicing disarming charms right behind you.

"Y/n, look out!" you heard someone yell behind you. Whipping around towards the voice, you saw a red ball of sparks sailing towards you from the end of Harry's wand. How did Harry always manage to accidentally attack you?

You dove from your chair to avoid the sparks, and were fully expecting to land roughy in the grass. Instead, you felt strong arms wrap around you to prevent you from hitting the ground. You looked up to see none other than Bill Weasley as your knight in shining armour.

"Thanks," you said quietly.

Bill didn't let his arms drop from around you.

"Anytime," he replied with a grin. His arms were still wrapped around you when you heard angry footsteps marching towards you.

"Get your hands off her, you prat," you heard Ron's voice say. Bill's arms dropped from your sides as you both turned to face Ron.

"Calm down, Ron," Bill told him.

Ron glared at his older brother. "Stop flirting with her, she's my best friend," he said sternly.

Your heart hurt. You wanted Ron to be jealous because he liked you, not because you were just his best friend.

"He can flirt with me if he wants." The words were out of your mouth before you could even filter it.

Ron's gaze snapped towards you and you almost had to take a step back from their intensity.  "Do you want him to?" He asked you, his voice strained.

The answer was easy. No. You knew you didn't want Bill to flirt with you. He had been your first crush and he was beyond attractive, but he wasn't Ron. The only person you wanted was Ron. You said those words not because you wanted Bill, but because you wanted Ron to stop acting possessive if he didn't even love you back. It just hurt too much for him to act like your boyfriend if he was never going to be.

"Ron, I'm sorry," Bill said, mediating the situation. "I know you and y/n have something together, I shouldn't have overstepped. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

It won't happen again.

That's exactly what Ron told you after the night he had taken the love potion. The night that made you believe that maybe he did have the same feelings for you. But in the end, he regretted the moment that you had loved so much.

It won't happen again.

Tears crowded your vision and you tried your best to blink them away, you were not about to cry in front of him and show him just how much power he had over you and your emotions. But soon there were hot tears slipping down your cheeks and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Bill and Harry exchanged nervous glances as you and Ron just continued staring at each other. They both took a couple steps away to give you and Ron the space you needed to hash things out. Ron was breathing heavily, obviously still angry from the flirting between you and his brother. But you were angry too, angry that he didn't want you the way you wanted him.

"I don't want you flirting with my brother," he said, his intense gaze never leaving yours.

You rolled your eyes, "It's not your choice if I do."

Ron bristled at your comment, taking another step closer to you. You could practically feel the heat and anger radiating off of him.

"You know, you've really been pissing me off these past couple weeks," he said. "You prance around making breakfast in the mornings, but in reality all you're doing is trying to get with Bill. It's so fucking frustrating! I'm your best friend, we were supposed to be together every day you visited, but instead you found someone better to spend your time with."

God, he was thick.  You told him that.

"I'm not trying to get with Bill, you dumb git!" you shouted back. Why couldn't he see that he was the only one you wanted. Bill hadn't even crossed your mind this summer, your heart was too full of Ron as it is.

At this point, you were practically nose to nose with him, your shouting words bringing you closer and closer towards each other.

Ron mimicked you from earlier and rolled his eyes. It was beyond infuriating. You set your jaw and clenched your hands as you tried not to yell more.

"Oh of course you're not. You just spend every waking moment with him and barely hang out with me, but sure you're not trying to get with him," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Now it was your turn to get angry. "Oh really? I'm the one to blame right now?" You shouted at him. The words were hot rolling off your tongue.

"You're the one who treats me so poorly! You cuddle me in your bed, and then run out the next morning. You almost kiss me and then act like it didn't happen! You told me what happened in your room was a mistake," the last sentence flew out of you, the anger just boiling and boiling up towards your breaking point.

Even though you knew it wouldn't do you any good, you kept talking. "Don't you dare try to put blame on me for this summer going to shit, because it's not my fault Ron! It's not my fault you're jealous of Bill, it's not my fault things aren't the same between us, and it's not my fault you don't love me back!"

Both of you froze as the words left your mouth. You wanted Ron to say something, needed him to say something, but he remained silent. You couldn't read his emotions and it was going to drive you crazy.

Ron stared at you, his eyes full to the brim with turbulent emotions that you couldn't read. All he did was shake his head.

"I don't want you with Bill," he finally said.

"You're not my boyfriend! You've made that perfectly clear!" You shouted back, your voice cracking halfway through the sentence.

Ron raked his hands through his messy hair, obvious frustrated. "If I were your boyfriend..." he started. "If I were your boyfriend... I wouldn't...." He glanced up at you and the words stopped forming at his mouth. You had tear streaks on your face and your eyes were still watery. The look of you must have shaken him too much for him to continue speaking.

"But you're fucking not! So stop acting like you are, because it hurts too much," you responded, all the fire gone from your argument. Instead it was replaced with a sad silence, the only sounds were the rustle in the tree branches and your occasional sniffle.

"I never meant to hurt you," he said, taking a step closer with his hand out to you, almost like he was thinking of reaching out to you.

You couldn't do this. You couldn't stay there, letting him reach out to touch you. It was clear he didn't love you back, so you couldn't stay and let him hold you when there wasn't any hope. You backed away from him, shaking your head as tears continued to fall down your cheeks.

"You did. You do," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. If not for Ron's body suddenly becoming stiff, you would have thought he didn't hear you.

"Y/n, please..." he began, but no words followed. You shook your head again before turning and running back inside to the Burrow.

Nobody moved when you entered the dimly lit house. The family was sitting around the crackling fire, chatting with one another. But all talk stopped as soon as you entered.

Hastily wiping the tears from your eyes, you tried to make yourself presentable.

"Sweetheart," Mrs Weasley said with that loving tone of hers only a mother could have, "are you alright?"

You nodded, despite the fact that you knew none of them believed you.

"I'm just a little tired is all, I think I'm going to head up to bed," you said, before climbing the stairs as quickly as possible.

As soon as you entered your makeshift room in the attic, you slammed the door shut behind you. You couldn't even make it to the bed before you crumbled onto the ground, your back pressed against the door. Drawing your knees up to your chest, you buried your head in your arms and let yourself cry.

Sobs racked your body as you replayed the conversation from outside. Ron didn't want you. He didn't love you back. He was angry and jealous, but he still didn't love you back.

You stayed there, pressed against the door for the next hour. Everyone headed up to bed at some point and Hermione and Ginny came to check on you. They explained how Harry told them about what happened outside but you just asked them to let you be alone for now. Being the good friends they are, they listened to your request, but not before Ginny promised to "beat Ron to a pulp for hurting you" the next morning.

Even Harry came to check on you. He was visibly uncomfortable, crying girls were never his strong suit (as you could remember from his first kiss with Cho Chang) but he still managed to give you a comforting hug. You thanked him and he left almost as quickly as he arrived. You got ready for bed in a trance, your eyes now swollen from the crying. Slipping on your pajamas, you barely noticed you were throwing on the vintage band shirt Ron had gotten you for a gift earlier. This only made you cry more. Dite landed on your shoulder as you lay in your bed. She affectionately pecked your ear and nuzzled her feathers against your cheek.  

"I'm okay, Dite," you told her, petting her soft feathers. Your fingers traced the black heart on her head. Ron bought you an owl named Aphrodite, with a heart literally on her feathers, but he couldn't even tell you he loved you. These mixed signals made your head and heart both throb.

You fell asleep fitfully, waking up every couple of hours and tossing and turning in bed. Tomorrow was Percy's party, and you had to be okay for it. You couldn't let Ron know just how much he had hurt you. You would be fine tomorrow. You would be fine, just like you had been these past few weeks. You would be fine.

[juulcharg3r]

Why’d It Have to Be Hermione?

Summary: Your boyfriend and best friend suck. Based on the song Hailey by WRENN

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Girlfriend!Reader 

Word Count: 2,030

WARNINGS: Swearing, cheating, angst I suppose (I don't think I'm very good at making things sad outside my own brain oops)

Same day, same night

Always feeling our fights

Like a fire in an empty house

Gone off somewhere

All I know is you’re not here

You think I’d have learned by now

 You had had a premonition that this birthday wasn't going to be as pleasant as the last three with Ron had been. Maybe it was the rain, though you usually rather quite liked the rain, or maybe it was the screaming match you were currently having with your boyfriend of four years. 

“Are you kidding me, Ronald? It's my BIRTHDAY!” You’d been with Ron since your days in Hogwarts, since 5th year, and he had never missed your birthday before.

“Bloody Hell, Y/N, it's not like I can control it! It's an emergency meeting, I have to go.”

“You promised we would spend the whole day together.” 

“And we will! Just not right now. I have to go.” You watch Ron grab his wand and bag and head towards the door, “I’ll see you later.”

“Fine. I love y-” The door slams, effectively cutting you off. “Great. Best birthday ever.” You let yourself fall backwards onto the bed you shared with your boyfriend, “The Dark Lord is dead. What the fuck could they possibly be having a meeting about at 6A.M.?” 

You stew in your thoughts, your anger slowly subsiding. Maybe you were being unreasonable. Ron was right, he couldn’t control when they had meetings. You were just hurt because he always had meetings and had canceled many dates for them. You just wanted to spend your birthday with him, to have one day where he spent the entire day with you and all his focus was on you for once. 

Eventually you sit up and mope downstairs to make yourself coffee to wake up. There was no point in trying to get a few more hours of sleep, not after a fight with Ron. They always left you feeling empty and you were left sitting alone in a desolate house. 

It was awful. Constantly fighting with Ron about the littlest things, about the stupidest things. It had been going on for months and it was always the same. Ron would either miss a date or one of you would do the littlest thing, then you’d fight, he’d leave and go somewhere, and you’d cry yourself to sleep in the spare bedroom. He would come home eventually (he always did), though you never knew when and if you’d ask he would say he went to the pub and then things would go back to normal between you two. 

But when you would do laundry the next day, you'd notice his clothes would never spell like the cigarettes and beers that normally came along with a trip to the pub. 

The fights would eat you alive. For days after you would feel awful, like you were being burned from the inside out. The arguing left you feeling empty inside but as if you were on fire. You were like an empty house on fire, nothing inside to burn but the structure was slowly but surely succumbing to the flames. 

“Why haven’t I learned?” 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ron finally came home, six hours later. There was no way in hell a meeting lasted six hours, but you were tired of arguing. 

“Hey, Baby.” Ron grins at you as he walks in and kisses you on the lips. 

‘Hey!” You smile tightlipped at the man you love, “How was the meeting?” He seemed to be in much better spirits than he had been this morning.

“It was fine.” Came the simple response.

“Oh, what was it about?”

“Y/N you know I can’t tell you that.”

“Right…” You trailed off before you remembered your original plans for today and became excited again, “Well do you still want to go to the art museum? I want to see the new exhibit on Picasso!” 

“I’m tired from the meeting and I just want to relax. I’m going to nap before dinner tonight, Babe, you go without me.”

“What? The whole point was… Okay. Fine.” You accio your wand and wallet and apparate to The National Gallery in Muggle London. “Fucking piece of shit,” you stomp into the gallery, but the sight of the paintings quickly erases your anger. You had always loved art and were impressed by the skills that some people hold. You could see their passion in the brushstrokes and the feelings poured into the paint.

 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 Eventually you made your way to the exhibit on Pablo Picasso. Something about his art just spoke to you, you weren’t sure what it was. 

An hour and a half later, you thought you had seen all his work encased in the exhibit until in the back corner of the room you saw it. A painting you had never seen before entitled The Melancholy Woman. 

You stood staring at it with an air of familiarity, though this was the first time you had laid eyes on it. You realized it was because you had been sitting in the same position all this morning. After getting your coffee you had spent several hours sitting on your couch facing the window but not looking out. You instead wallowed in self-pity wondering what had happened between you and Ron that caused all the fighting. 

“Oh my god.” Faced with the reality of your own sadness you all but ran out of the gallery and to a good spot to apparate home. 

 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 You say she’s just a friend, well okay

Why’s she showing up at midnight on my birthday?

Why’s she crying in your arms looking a mess?

And you’re looking at me like you gotta confess

Not the first time you held her

 You were home now and were curled up next to Ron on the couch watching your favorite movie. Ron was stroking your hair and you felt lighter than you had in months. You and Ron had had a wonderful evening at dinner, for the first time in a long time. You went to your favorite restaurant and laughed all night long, but the sense of foreboding from this morning lingered. You shook off the feeling and thought maybe your premonition was wrong and you were just being silly, nothing bad had happened after you came back from the art gallery. 

Then the doorbell rang. 

You and Ron look at each other weirdly, who was showing up at your house this late at night? You both pad to the door, Ron looks through the peephole and then opens the door with hesitance, “Mione? What are you doing here? It’s nearly midnight.” Hermione, your best friend since second year, looked like a mess, her hair was knotted, and clothes wrinkled. 

The foreboding feeling that had been licking at you all night was now crashing over your entire body. 

Hermione was crying and was well past ruining her mascara, “I... I don't know.” Then she threw herself into your boyfriend's arms and started sobbing violently. 

You were too shocked to move. What do you do in this situation? Your best friend was sobbing in his chest at midnight on your birthday. You were about to ask if she was okay when Ron looked at you and the expression turned your blood to ice. He looked like he was about to confess something horrible to you and you knew then that this wasn’t the first time this had happened. This wasn’t the first time he had held her, crying and not. 

You took a step back, shaking your head, “No no no no no. You didn’t. No-”

“Y/N let me explain!”

“No, you fucking didn’t. This is a lie. This can't be real. Did you really? Are you serious? With her?”

“Baby please,” Ron untangles himself from Hermione and leaves her on the floor to approach you. 

You hold out your hands to stop him from getting closer, “Did you even have a meeting today? Or were you just with her? Were any of these ‘emergency meetings’ real or were they just excuses to go see her?”

“Y/N…”

The sound of your name on his lips told you everything you needed to know, “That's what I thought.” You glare at him with more anger and sadness than he thought possible, “And on my fucking birthday. Fuck you, Ron Weasley.” You dash upstairs to the bedroom you once shared with your boyfriend. 

 Mascara stains dripping down your t-shirt

Now I’m packing a bag, but I gotta ask

Out of everyone, everyone else

Why’d it have to be Hailey?

 You throw clothes blindly into an old, ratty backpack while ignoring as Ron begged you to stay. As you pack you stew in your own thoughts, wanting to scream at him, wanting to punch him in the face, stomp on his head, and just ask why. 

“I gotta ask… Why’d it have to be Hermione?” Your brain was stuck on the mascara stains on his shirt as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. She ruined everything, both Ron’s shirt and your heart. She was your best friend, how could she? She knows how much you love him.

“W-what?” 

“Out of everyone, everyone else in the entire fucking wizarding world, why did it have to be Hermione?” 

“Y/N, I…” Ron trails off, he doesn’t know the answer to your question. 

“I mean I guess that explains what I heard in the back of Harry and Ginny’s birthday card to me,” you open your bedside table drawer and take out an envelope with a card in it. It's one of those cards where you record a birthday message in your own voice for the recipient. You throw it at your boyfriend and cross your arms. When he opens it, the sound of Ginny and Harry’s voices yelling out greetings and the lyrics to Happy Birthday to You burst out. After their offkey rendition that had initially put a smile on your face, in the background there is the faintest conversation going on. 

“Are you gonna tell her?” The first voice asks. 

“There’s no point.” The second responds. 

“She’s gonna find out eventually.” The first voice presses. 

“I mean it doesn’t matter if she does at this point.” The second voice concludes. Then Harry and Ginny finish their well wishes for you and say goodbye and that they love you. When you first listened to it you thought you were hearing wrong, but after this… There was no mistaking it now, those were the voices of your boyfriend of four years and your best friend of seven years.

 You say that I’ve got it all wrong, but I think I know you better than myself

Don’t you get tired of always playing the victim and running your mouth?

 “No, Baby, no. You- you’ve got this all wrong! I wouldn’t-”

“Ronald, we have been together for too long. I know you better than I know myself sometimes and this is one of those times. You would because you did.”

“No Y/N I didn't I swear!! Hermione came onto me! I love you; you know that! I wouldn't cheat on you, it was an accident, I swear!”

At this point you couldn't hold back the tears and were openly sobbing, “It wasn't an accident, Ronald.”

“YES, IT WAS!”

“Maybe it was an accident the first time, but you chose her over me every time after that. It was a choice that you made and now you have to live with it.” And with that you shove past him, bag and wand in hand and sprint down the stairs. You pause to stare at Hermione who no doubt heard your entire conversation. “I hope you’re happy, Hermione. You got what you wanted.”

“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry-”

“Save it. I do not care what you have to say. I hope you and Ron are very happy together.” You step over her body on the floor, out the door, and out of their lives forever.

 Why’d it have to be Hailey?

Why’d it have to be Hailey?

Out of everyone, everyone else

Out of everyone, everyone else

Why’d it have to be Hailey?

Why’d it have to be Hailey?

FINISHED

[lunnanunna]

Break

STRAY KIDS Extra Member AU

Summary: Ollie has a rough late night practice and I.N finds her.

Warnings: swearing

Taglist: @hyunmijung @galacticstxrdust @giant-puppy-yunho @kimonmars @soobinssmile @mythicalamphitrite​ @atinygracie​

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open for each girl! Please let me know what you think.

Ollie glared at her reflection in the steamy mirror of the practice room. It was late into the night, possibly the wee hours of the morning, and Ollie was still at the company practicing. No matter how hard she tried, her dancing seemed off. She couldn’t go home if the choreography wasn’t perfect, she’d be letting the boys down during their promotions.

Taking deep breaths, hands resting on her knees for support, Ollie let out a growl. (Why couldn’t she get this right?) She stood up straight, shaking out her limbs then walked back over to the stereo to start up Back Door again.

Back at her spot, Ollie took in a few more breaths as the song started then walked towards the center on her cue.  She moved through the steps flawlessly until the second pre-chorus. She turned to spin around then duck and crouch, or at least that’s what she was supposed to do.

Ollie slid into the crouch, landing on her side. Her ankle felt funny from the weird positioning it took while she slid. She squeezed her eyes shut at the light throbbing in her ankle and arm, and from the sheer frustration of it all.

“What the hell?” Ollie hissed, turning to lay on her back. She stared at the ceiling, mentally berating herself. (This wasn’t like her. She’d never struggled with choreos before. Hell, she was always the first to get them down!)

The music still played in the background, but Ollie wasn’t listening. She couldn’t move. “Chan-oppa actually made a mistake in choosing you.” It had been awhile since she had last heard Jisoo’s voice in her head.

With all the comeback prep, Ollie had completely forgotten about the girl. Well, almost. There were still the occasional dreams, or like right now, the whisper in the back of her mind. The boys didn't know about that though. Of course she’d never tell them. (‘Cause not telling them worked so well last time.)

Ollie roughly sat up, scrubbing her hands down her face. Lose strands of hair fell over her eyes, escaping her headband, and she grumbled at the little annoyances. (It was late and she was getting crabby.)

A gentle throbbing was making itself present behind her eyes. A tell tale that a migraine was beginning, so she slumped herself up and walked over to the stereo to turn it off. (Maybe she should go home. ‘Cause obviously she wasn’t making any progress.)

She took another look at the mirror, taking in her disheveled hair, the mullet looking more wild than usual due to her constantly running her hands through it. She had major under eye bags, and she knew that the stylist would tear her a new one for it.  Her sports bra and sweatpants were a shade darker from all the sweating from the earlier group practice and then her solo practice. She was a mess and a half, and she hated it.

In a fit of anger, she grabbed her water bottle that was a few feet away and chucked it at her reflection. She swore she saw herself offer a taunting grin. (She was fucking losing it!)

“Noona?” Ollie whipped around at the timid whisper. Jeongin was standing in the doorway. (How had she not noticed him?) He looked almost scared to enter, but the moment passed and he walked in.

“Innie. What are you doing here?” Ollie asked, pretending like she didn’t just assault the mirror with her water bottle. She walked over to the corner of the room where said bottle lay haphazardly, and picked it up. It had a crack in it, water slowly leaking.

Her back was facing him as he answered. “I came to get you. It’s four in the morning, and we have to be up in a few hours,” the maknae said. Ollie could hear him moving around, most likely rounding things up, ignoring her little outburst.

“I hadn’t realized how late it was. Oops,” Ollie forced a smile as she turned to look at the younger. He was already looking at her, crouched in front of her bag, placing her things inside. He was trying to read her, and Ollie quickly fastened her mask, stowing away anything that wasn’t happy and relaxed.

“Yeah, when I saw you weren’t home yet, I came to get you,” Jeongin said, pulling out her black Crocs from her bag. He motioned for her to come over and put them on.

She walked over, removing her sneakers and replacing them with her Crocs. “Sorry, you had to come and get me,” she said, watching as he placed her sneakers in the bag and zipped it up.

He shrugged, looking up at her with a small smile. “Someone’s gotta look out for you.” Getting up with her bag slung over his shoulder, he walked over to where a black hoodie sat on one of the benches. Ollie followed him, taking the hoodie (Chan’s Hoodie) from Jeongin’s hands.

“Thanks,” Ollie spoke softly, pulling the garment over her head. The fabric draped past her thighs and she took in a deep breath of what was only Chan’s scent. It relaxed her a bit.

“Why?” Jeongin asked as they began to walk towards the door. Ollie looked at him, confused. “Why did you stay so long? I thought you had the routine down.”

They stepped out of the room, shutting the lights off and walked down the hall to the elevator. Ollie got a strong sense of deja vu, and shivered a bit. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to get some last minute practice in for tomorrow. Or today, actually,” Ollie said, correcting herself.

“But you had already practiced with us, and were doing just fine. I don’t get why you need to work more,” the maknae said, looking at her.

Ollie avoided his stare smiling as she said, “It’s for Stay. I just want it to be perfect, ya know?”

“You’re overworking yourself. We’re not even halfway through the first week of promotions. And you’re not sleeping properly either,” Jeongin said, stopping and reaching out to grab Ollie’s wrist, stopping her.

“And how would you know that?” Ollie quirked a brow at him, smirk playing on her lips.

He quirked his own eyebrow, though his was unimpressed. “We’re roommates. I know when you’re tossing and turning or straight up not in bed. Like tonight,” Jeongin rolled his eyes then started walking again.

Ollie’s smirk dropped, and she watched as he made his way to the elevator. She took a deep breath, chewing on her lip. She needed to be more careful. She couldn’t keep causing problems for her members.

“Noona, you coming?” Ollie looked up at the maknae, sending him a smile. She skipped over to him, despite the protest in her aching muscles.

“Are the others asleep?” she asked, entering the elevator behind him.

“Yes. Just like we should be,” Jeongin sassed, pressing the button for the first floor.

“Sorry,” Ollie said sheepishly. She linked arms with him, pressing into his side. When he looked down he found her grinning at him. “I promise that you won’t have to get me next time.” She’d set an alarm on her phone next time so she wouldn’t stay too late and so none of the boys would have to get her.

Jeongin nodded his head, looking at her. She offered her a small smile, then reached over to pat her matted hair. “I hope so. We want you to be able to promote with us for the whole time, not just for half of it,” he said, eyes disappearing as his smile grew.

“Yes, sir. I promise it won’t happen again,” Ollie saluted him, giving a nod. Jeongin chuckled as the doors opened, and Ollie silently followed him out.

There was no way she was getting pulled from promotions this time. She’d work hard to prove that she was better and that she belonged with her boys.

Ollie’s Masterlist

[ericsonclan]

The Truth Remains

Summary: Clementine decides to surprise Louis by removing the graffitied insult from his piano.

Word Count: 2174

Read on AO3:

“Fuck,” Clementine growled, scrubbing extra hard with her bit of sandpaper at the side of Louis’ piano. This was turning out to be harder than she thought.

“Swear,” AJ didn’t let his eyes leave the crack in the music room doors he was guarding.

“Sorry, goofball. Didn’t mean to let it slip out like that,” Clementine set the sandpaper down for a second, wiggling her fingers to try to loosen them up a bit. Only five letters in and her fingers were already cramping. Part of her was tempted to use something stronger than sandpaper to remove the graffiti but she didn’t want to do any sort of lasting harm to the piano. This was about writing a wrong, making the cruel words etched into the wood disappear for good.

“It’s looking nice so far,” AJ commented, glancing back for just a moment.

“Thanks,” Clementine looked up at the progress she’d made so far. Five letters had been obliterated, only the smooth woodgrain of the piano remaining where they had once stood. The graffiti now read “ck at playing”. Better, but she wanted it all to be gone before Louis returned. Aasim had promised to take extra time checking the traps today, but the depth of the gouges in the piano meant Clementine had already taken an hour to get this far.

Well, there was no point wasting more time. Squaring her shoulders, Clementine returned to her task with a renewed vigor, her eyes scrunching in determination as she continued. Her back was sore from leaning forward on the piano bench for so long. At least she wasn’t sitting on the floor. Her arms would ache far worse then. Pressing the sandpaper against the letter c and scrubbing wildly, Clementine focused all her rage onto the offending letter.

There wasn’t a lot that she could change in this world, but she could fix this. After weeks of being forced to spend most of her time in bed recuperating and with use of the crutches draining her within the first hour, Clementine had wracked her brain to find something she could do while sitting down that wouldn’t drive her insane with boredom. This task had been one of the first things to come to mind. She wanted to make it a surprise, a sort of thank you to Louis for all he had done for her and AJ since they’d met.

Not that getting rid of graffiti could in any way amount to all they owed Louis. He had welcomed them from their first day at Ericson and let them back in without a second thought when Clementine collapsed in front of Ericson’s gates with an injured A.J. in her arms. After everything that had happened with Marlon, Louis was still able to set aside his anger and pain to become friends with them again. More than friends with Clementine. And he had run out into the woods twice on the same night to find them and helped get Clementine back to the school even as walkers surrounded them and Clem’s stump bled out on his coat.

This gesture wasn’t much, but she knew it would mean a lot to Louis. She had asked the other kids about the graffiti: Violet, Aasim, Ruby. None of them knew who had left it. They had their suspicions, but no one had seen it done. Apparently, it had been there for years, since the early days of the school being abandoned. Aasim noted that back then the school was more crowded, and Louis’ playing did tend to irk a number of the other kids. He wasn’t very good at it yet since he’d never been allowed to play before. Day by day Louis had taught himself each and every thing he knew about playing the piano. Clementine found it impressive. Yet the graffiti had stayed even as Louis’ playing improved; now it was time to erase the lie.

A gasp from A.J. had Clementine spinning round, her arms instinctively covering her work as though it would be possible to hide it. It was just Rosie though, dropping by to say hello. A.J. happily petted the dog, smiling as she lay down beside him. “Good girl, Rosie. You can help guard the door with me. We’re gonna make sure Louis doesn’t come in till Clem’s all done with the surprise,”

Clementine’s heart warmed at the sight of the pair standing guard together. It was wonderful to see A.J. getting to enjoy being a kid: keeping watch simply for the sake of a surprise, spending time with his loyal dog. It hadn’t been long since everything went down with the Delta, but A.J. had recovered well. It was good to see him smiling again, no longer spending every waking minute worrying about her or her leg. He had set down roots at Ericson and she had too. Her eyes returned to the piano. The c was much fainter now, but the lines still remained. Not for long. Clementine sanded the wood with all she had. Come hell or high water, she would get this done.

---

“There’s a surprise for me in here?” Louis sounded intrigued as he entered the room, his eyes closed and a grin upon his face.

“That’s right. Take about eight more steps and you’ll be at the piano,” Clementine plopped down on the bench, scooting over and setting aside her crutches. “One, two, oh look out”

Louis’ foot hit an empty soda can, causing him to freeze as the can clattered and spun along the floor. “Oops. That wasn’t anything, important, right?”

“Just a can. Your path is clear now. Just a few more steps and you can open your eyes. Close, closer, and… now,”

Louis opened his eyes, looking round the room with curiosity. “Huh. The way A.J. was hyping things up I figured you two would have found some balloons to fill the room with or something. You missed my birthday by about a month, by the way,”

“It’s not a birthday celebration. It’s something more subtle. Look closer,” Clementine directed, watching her boyfriend with anticipation.

Louis looked around the room once more but seemed just as lost as ever. “Hmmm, if there’s something here I’m supposed to be seeing, I’m not spotting it. Probably because the pretty girl on the bench is distracting me,” He grinned, moving to sit down beside Clementine.

“No, not yet!” Clementine exclaimed, raising her hands to stop him.

“I can’t sit by you?” Louis asked in bewilderment, his lips turning down in a mock pout. “This is starting to feel more like a punishment than a reward,”

Clementine rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her own lips. “You’ll live. Just look again. Focus. What means the most to you in this room? Besides me,” Clementine caught Louis’ look just as he was about to say that very thing.

“Took the words right out of my mouth. Besides you, my favorite thing…” Louis’ hands came to rest upon the side of the piano, “Is this,” He leaned forward, glancing at the place where he and Clementine had carved their initials. “Yep, the potato’s still there, same as always,”

“Not that, you dork! Step back, look at the whole piano,”

“Alright, alright, let’s see then…” Louis took a step back, surveying the whole piano carefully. “There’s nothing new here. It’s the same as always,”

“Not something new exactly…” Clementine paused, wondering how to word things without giving the answer away. “Something has changed,”

“Changed? Well, the bench is still here, all four legs, the strings, good old Branchley…”  Louis nodded towards the stick he used to hold the cover of the piano open. “The keys are all there, the pedals…” his voice drifted off as he squinted, trying his best to figure out what could have possibly changed. “Wait a minute,”

Clementine’s breath caught in her throat. Had he finally noticed it?

Louis took a step forward, reaching out to brush his fingers along the side of his piano. Where the scribbled graffiti had once been was a blank space, slightly lighter than the rest of the wood but just as smooth. Louis gazed at the spot for several moments before his eyes lifted, meeting Clementine’s. “Those words are gone,”

“That’s right,” Clementine smiled proudly.

“You did this?”

“I did. A.J. kept watch in case Aasim wasn’t able to keep you away long enough and you got back before we finished,”

“So that was why he took us on that whole detour to scout out new places to lay traps!” Louis shook his head, chuckling. “I’ll have to thank him later. And A.J. too,”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that from you,” Clementine patted the spot on the bench beside her. A little sigh escaped her as Louis sat down beside her and she was able to rest her head upon his shoulder. “We both wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for us,”

“All I’ve done? Clem, you’re the one who saved the school. You saved everyone here!”

“And you saved us both. A.J. when you carried him back inside and me when you found us after the barn,” Clementine grew quiet for a moment, noticing how Louis glanced down sadly at her stump. In those first days she’d woken up he kept apologizing, saying how sorry he was that he had jumped that fence and left her and A.J. behind, how if he had stayed beside them things might have been different. He hadn’t stopped apologizing until Clementine was back on her feet with the use of the crutches and even then, she had to cut him off each time he tried to start again.

“Louis, you saved us that day. A.J. and I wouldn’t be alive anymore if it wasn’t for you,”

Louis took her hand, his thumb rubbing against it gently. “We saved each other,”

Clementine nodded softly, accepting the change. “Anyway, I wanted to do something nice for you. And that graffiti always bugged me. I knew it was a lie from the first moment I met you and heard you play,”

“The dulcet tones of my instrument haven’t driven you mad yet?” Louis quipped, a wry smile upon his face.

“Your playing is beautiful, Louis. I love hearing it. And even though everybody else has gotten too used to it to comment on it, I know they enjoy it too. You know Omar was tapping his foot to that new tune you’ve been working on last night while he was prepping for dinner,”

“He was? You sure he wasn’t just trying to wake that foot up?”

“Louis,” Clementine frowned. “I know you’re out of practice, but you’ve got to believe me when I give you a compliment. I would never lie to you,”

“I know. It’s just…” Louis sighed. “You’re right, I’m out of practice,” He leaned over to look at the side of the piano again. “I never thought to get rid of that. I mean I did, but back when it happened if I scrubbed it out whoever left it would just have carved something new in its place. And after a while I just got used to it being there. I didn’t even really notice it anymore, Well, I did, but,” he turned to look at Clementine, the happiness apparent in his eyes, “Now it’s gone. And that’s thanks to you,”

“You deserve to know how special you are, Lou,” Clementine felt her heart thump as she saw how much those words had meant to Louis. There were tears pricking the corners of his eyes as they welled with emotion.

“Clem…” Not knowing what else to say, Louis wrapped his arms round his girlfriend, pulling her into a tight hug. Clementine returned the hug in kind, grasping on to Louis’ shoulders tightly as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Thanks, Clem,” Louis whispered, his voice slightly hoarse.

“You’re welcome, Lou,” Clementine’s hand lightly brushed through her boyfriend’s dreadlocks. She was happy now in this moment with him. She wanted to treasure it.

Eventually Louis pulled back, placing a gentle kiss on Clementine’s cheek before sitting upright. “Well, a surprise like this deserves celebration! Let’s have some music!” He cracked his fingers before placing them across the piano keys. “What would my lady like to hear?”

It didn’t take her long to decide. “How about “Clementine”? That’s my personal favorite,”

Louis looked down shyly at those words, a soft smile upon his lips. “Mine too,” With that Louis began to play, slipping easily into the moment as his fingers played the familiar tune. It was a short melody, but Louis played it again. Then again. Clementine listened happily, her eyes drifting shut as she nuzzled softly into her boyfriend’s warmth. His music was beautiful; she would never grow tired of it. And here, safe and sound within Ericson’s walls, she’d have all of her life to listen to him play again and again.

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

Annoying

Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Langauge, One Pick-Up line Summary: Ever since you got powers from a space mission, you’re stuck with your team who are figuring out how to get rid of your powers altogether. But your one teammate decides to plan things out to make a little money. It’s getting out of hand when he only annoys you.

A/N: @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ is making me too obsessed with Johnny Storm. The perfect match, she says and I’m a little scared because I can see it. This is gonna be a disaster and we need more Johnny Storm on my list.

Not everyday someone wakes up with powers and always gets told that they make a room not heat up. Out of every super ability you can have, it was ice powers. How stupid is that? Sue had the best one, you wanted to be the one to leave a conversation so easily by disappearing. But it doesn’t seem to be great when you have to strip bare. 

Not your ideal of having, so you just had to go with your own. You were told so many times how much yours weren’t horrible. You couldn’t say it in front of Ben. Everyone knew why. 

A walk in Central park, you were relaxing in the summer air. Seeing dogs run down the grass, people on bikes riding down or people walk down. You can hear someone pant and call out to you. Turning, you see a man who was running. “Hey, can you help me with something?”

You look at him in confusion and nodded, “Yeah, sure-” He shoves his water bottle into your hand and he kneels down on one knee to tie his shoe, “Thanks.” You couldn’t help but grip the bottle in irritation. The man stands up with a sigh, “Thank you.” He takes his water bottle and opens the cap. You look at the bottle and your eyes widen.

The two of you stared at the bottle that was now frozen. He stared at you, shockingly, “You’re...” The man stuttered and you can’t stand making a crowd if he ever bursts out in excitement. With a turn of your heel, you walked away. “Wait!” You hear him shout, you reached your hand out and the ground becomes frozen as you sprint walk. You hear the man slip and fall so you take that chance to run. 

Heading back to the tower, you shoved your hands in your pockets and made your way through the doors, greeted by the front desk. The elevator dings and you see two people walk out. “Hey!” Johnny jumps at you, hiding something behind his back, he grins a little too big. “I have something, you might want to see.”

“I’m not in the mood, Pretty Boy. Now move before I give you a frost bite.”

You take a step to the side till Johnny mirrors your movement and holds his hand out. “Come on,” He tilts his head at you, “I promise you, you’re gonna love this.” You stare at him stupidly to have him just show you and leave you alone. He pulls it out and grins, “Ah, isn’t it cool?” You gawk at the horrendous toy. “It’s you!” He says.

You can see the blue outfit that your team wears with the number 5 on it. He looks at the toy, “And looks it’s got this!” He lifts up the arm and pushes a button. “Johnny, I-” You get cut off by a squirt of water hits the center of your face causing you to look deadpan. 

Johnny kept a smile on his face like a five year old. Your eyes were still closed as the water drips down your face, “Johnny?”

“Yeah?” He asks, waiting for the most fantastic response from you. You reach up to your face and wipe away the water, you sighed, “I don’t have water powers.” Johnny looks at the toy, “But ice is water.” His shoulders drop, “Come on, I’m trying here.”

“You’re not even trying, Johnny. These aren’t things we should be happy about. We’re freaks now. And I don’t want... a toy that looks like me,” You say, “Besides these won’t sell.” Johnny lowers the toy and smirks, “Well, I saw these in every store. By tomorrow, we’ll be like the Kardashians.”

You roll your eyes and slowly thought of something. “Can I see the toy, I actually think these are cool.” Johnny hands you the toy with a cocky grin. You smiled at the toy and your hands grow colder. Johnny’s face drops, “Woah. Hey! That’s the prototype!”

The toy began to freeze up like an icicle and you dropped it on the ground, shattering it to pieces. You peer up at him, sadly, “Oops. Cold hands.” You hear the elevator ding and that gave you the chance to walk in like nothing happened. Johnny stood there like you just insulted his mom.

With a grin, you waved at him like a high school girl and fake grin in the world as the elevator doors close.

The next day, you hadn’t seen Johnny since morning. Sue and Reed were already gone and left on a date. Ben was in his own room while you sat in the kitchen, eating whatever you made from the fridge. You hear the phone ring and you made your way to it and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Miss L/N. I have a package for you.” You furrowed your brows to your doorman in the lobby. You never ordered a package, but if it was another of those fanart from kids, you couldn’t refuse. “Alright. I’ll be down there in a bit.” You hung up and made your way to the elevator. Pushing the Lobby floor, you waited in the small room, stopping to let a fellow person into the small room with you.

His small grin winked at you as you forced one onto your face. He shivers, “Brr. It’s a little cold in here, is it?” He asked. You rolled your eyes at him and sighed, “Maybe next time don’t wear short sleeves,” You say. The man looked over his shoulder at you, awkwardly. 

You obviously were the problem but you didn’t care one bit. 

Once the doors open, the man was the first one out and you met up with your doorman and he handed you the small box. “Ah, here you go, Miss.” You nod once at him and hear someone laugh.

“Look who it is. DQ Blizzard. What’s got you down here?” Johnny asks, leaning on the desk. You turn away and headed straight for the elevator. “Listen, Pretty Boy. I’m not in a good mood.” Johnny trots behind like a child, “When are you not in the mood? Look, I know yesterday with your own figurine was... too much. But in all honestly, it was sick.”

You turn toward the opens doors, “Keep talking, I’ll make you into a popsicle. Now shut up.” Johnny quirks his brows up as a ‘Got it’ and never spoken again. You two stood there in silent, finally being in a peaceful room with one of the most annoying people on the planet.

The elevator opens to a woman and she comes in with a small grin. Johnny nods at her and she faces away from you two. The woman sighs, “Strange. You guys feel hot and cold?” She asked.

Johnny glances over at you before turning to the woman, “No. Not at all,” He spoke. Seconds, you could see Johnny steam up a little. You hear the woman let out a gasp, “Didn’t they fix the vents last time? Whoo. It’s hot,” You watch as the woman began to take off her suit jacket and Johnny watched her slowly. You found a way to stop him, kicking him in the shin causing him to yelp.

The elevator dings and the woman leaves glistening with sweat and the doors close once again. You shook your head slowly, “You’re disgusting.” Johnny shoves his hands in his pockets and grins. “Come on. Enjoy it. You were hot, too, admit it.”

“Actually I wasn’t. Maybe try a little harder because you can’t get to me that easily,” You say, leaving through the doors once they reached your level. Johnny followed behind with a grin. “Oh, come on. I get to you all the time. Even when you’re 0 degrees below, you still heat up in the cheeks. Admit it, Snowflake.”

You turn around, “Don’t call me Snowflake.”

“Hey, you call me Pretty Boy, what’s wrong with Snowflake?” He asks, he glances at the box in your arms, “I wonder what’s in the box.” He smirks at you in a bad way that gets you thinking. What was this jerk planning? You ripped the box open and saw plastic wrap. You pulled it open and saw what looked like Johnny. As a toy.

“What the hell is this? Did you get me this?” You asked, Johnny glance into the box again and so did you. A letter inside made you read it instantly. 

Push the button on the back.

You look at the doll and pushed the button on its back. “Enjoy your new room.” You furrowed your brows and glared at Johnny. You raced to your room and pushed your door open, your mouth gapes at the scene. “What the hell, Johnny!” He comes in casually with his hand in his pockets. “What? I actually like it.”

“I don’t! Everything is...” You turned to the bed sheets that had his face on it, “You!” Toys of Johnny in his Fantastic Four suit were all over the place. Your curtains were blue with the number four on it. Johnny even added your figurine around the room.

“Where the hell did you get this stuff?” You asked, pacing around the room to gather all the merchandise. Johnny looks around like a proud guy. “Well, you know people get creative with us being top trending people, and I am the hottest guy here while you... hottest girl on the team as well, they made things for us. And I had a few people I know. It’s an early birthday gift.”

“My birthday was a month ago.”

Johnny pauses, lifting a finger up, “Okay... late birthday gift. But, hey...” He smiles like a child, pointing at you, “You are my biggest fan.” You grab the pillow case that had his face on it and threw it at him. “You’re so annoying! I hate you!” YOu shout. 

Johnny laughs and catches it. “Come on! It’s amazing! It took me hours.” You throw another object at him and he blocks them with the pillow. “Woah! Hey!” You throw more things, “You! Are! So! Annoying!” You say, you began to run over to him till he takes your face in his hands and your lips crash onto his. Your fighting stops and your hands go over his. Your lips relaxed on his and he pulls away.

You open your eyes to see his blue hues, his grin tugging his lips. “What?” You asked. Johnny still rested his palms on your cheeks, “You’re as red as I am on fire.” You stomp on his foot causing him to hiss and reach for his foot. “I hate you,” His back hunched over to grab his foot with his hand till you kiss him again and his head lifts up to kiss you back again. 

The kiss lasted for another second and you pulled away. 

“Now clean up my room. I expect it to go back to normal,” You say. Johnny looks around the room to see your obsession with him and it made him grin. “I think it is normal to have a room filled with myself all over. That bed sheet isn’t gonna be the only Johnny in bed.”

“Ugh, you need to work on your lines.”

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