#hi. I can’t sleep. figured I’d just pour my guts out to see if getting it outta my system will help me

[oleanderspride]

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 7. Stormy Reunion [B3]

Pairing: Snape x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Hideout Cabin somewhere in Scottland

Continuation of: Prompt 2. Restless Waiting, Prompt 3. Snowballing

A/N: It's day seven! Already a week of Rickmas has passed and this feels like a good day for some Snape-Love and I'm so ready for this particular Rickmas Serial to continue 🥰 I do think it will be the one with he most parts, it feels like it right now as I'm figuring out how to get where I imagine it ends 👀

Anyway, I hope you're all having a lovely time and amid the chaos of hosting three Christmas celebrations, writing and hosting Rickmas, finding time for work and family life, well, life's a bit hectic but I think I've been managing it all quite well so far - just a little later in the day I'm posting this as opposed to the previous ones this year so yay on that even if I have kinda dug myself into a little pit of snow with doing so many deep-dives! 😅👏

Tags/TW’s: Confession of [Love, Caring, Attempt At Hiding], Kisses (not on lips), Worry, Longing, Hopeful Wishing, Reunion, Being Alone, Being Kept In The Dark, Having Unanswered Questions

Word Count: 1.6k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

It happened in a flurry four days ago, from being the secret Christmas decorator of Hogwarts endeavouring to spread as much cheer and warmth as possible among the students and staff through the castle to being whisked away to a Scottish cottage in a manner none of my fantasies had ever concocted by the man I secretly loved. I hadn’t even been allowed to gather my things, to leave Severus’s office for a single second that morning after nearly no sleep.

He’d drank a potion that reeked of something foul, his body had trembled for a moment while he’d supported himself on the backrest of the sofa only for him to appear as good as new a few seconds later, only his lips had still held a deep staining of something blueish from the potion. The moment I’d noticed it, he’d grabbed my arm, tugged me into his side harshly and kissed the top of my head for a second before rushing me out of the office, toward the headmaster's quarters. They hadn’t said a word to each other, just a nod and a look of detachment shared before Severus shoved me into the fireplace of Dumbledore’s office, stepped in with me and touched a loose stone hung from a string just above the inside mantel — impossible to see unless you stood in the fireplace.

I’d puked my guts out all over the barely-there snow after the portkey had taken us away, through barely open barriers of magic that closed behind us so fast my eyes couldn’t quite catch the shimmering light that was the only real sign of the magic being manipulated.

Now, well, I was alone. Severus hadn’t spoken more than five words before kissing my forehead after a second of hesitation. “Stay here, do not leave” he’d said and after the kiss came two more words, “I’m sorry” he’d said and stepped away before disappearing in a strange black whoosh of smoke. But he told me to stay, to not leave, so I stayed. I stayed in the little cottage with drafty windows and creaking floorboards. I stayed within the borders of the walls while looking out on the raging sea half obscured by swirling snow thrown about in harsh winds.

The one thing keeping me company was the thoughts of him, him holding me and kissing my forehead, the way he looked at me, the dread in his voice when he’d spoken of the Dark Lord seeing me in his mind. I had thought myself to be invisible to him, yet he’d acted as if he deeply cared for me, as if my being unsafe frightened him beyond measure. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

Then there was that one word. That one word he’d called me by that I surely must have misheard for how could I — an average and less than inspiring or enticing witch than most — be called Love by him? I must have misheard… I can’t— The kettle interrupted my thoughts, shrieking that the water was boiling. I poured it into a strainer lined with a filter full of freshly ground coffee beans and waited as it dripped down.

I got comfy in the bay window, two blankets wrapped around and over me while I watched the crazy weather outside and sipped my coffee. The little cottage hadn’t looked like much when I arrived, but as I would have gone insane without anything to do I’d spent the second and third day cleaning — luckily enough finding the attic door hidden by a rather large painting of some strange sea horse — only to spend the current day decorating the whole place with mostly muggle decorations.

Whoever had owned the cabin before, or lived there at least, had a peculiar taste in decorations. From embedded seashells in the walls to broken glass shards in a multitude of colours as little tiny windows in the staircase, The tiny kitchen made of shipping boxes for cupboards to the mismatched chairs around the little dining table that looked as if it had been made of old ship planks — barely sanded down to avoid splinters.

But I liked it, it felt cosy and rustic yet warm despite the draft. It felt like a home, rather than some hideout. “Perhaps it is someone’s home, what do I know?” That thought wasn’t the most fun. If it was someone's home, was I an intruder just dumped off here? I sighed and sipped my coffee, flicking my wand to turn on the muggle radio only for the softest of Christmas carols to suddenly fill the space while I tried my hardest not to wonder if Severus was alright, if he was out there somewhere without ever planning to come back for me — why I was even hidden away when I was a nobody I couldn’t fully grasp as I fought the ideas of meaning something to Severus, to the man I loved but had been avoided by and not really ever wanted by it felt like. “I hope I don’t have to spend Christmas here…” I murmured before leaning back in the bay window after having sat my coffee cup on the little stool next to it on the floor.

The door banged open and I jolted at the sudden noise while the cold winds swept in as if seeking to destroy the fragile decorations barely secured to the walls, mantel, and door frames. But the door shut as my double-socked feet hit the floor below and a black figure, dusted with white flakes of snow, stood just inside it. I’d have known that shape anywhere.

“Severus” I exhaled quietly as he turned toward me. His eyes scanned me up and down, the rags for clothes I’d layered on me had me feeling self-conscious but I’d had nothing with me when he dropped me off at the cottage. “Belinna,” he said quietly, a relieved tone to his voice. He looked both relieved and as if he were in disbelief to see me exactly where he’d left me. “Yes, right where you left me.” “I can see that.” “Why am I here?” I asked, the question had plagued my mind. “For your safety,” Severus began quietly while I stepped closer. “And mine.” “Yours?” My stomach knotted at that, remembering his wiped-out state from the last time I’d seen him.

“It was never my intention, believe me.” “Your intention? Intention to, what?” He looked down at me as I stepped up to him. My entire body tingled at being close to him once more. Even if nothing about the situation made sense to me. That he had returned for me, well, that was an emotion all of its own to deal with.

His shoulders stiffened. “To put you in danger.” “In danger? Who could possibly have a reason to harm me more than anyone else?” “The Dark Lord,” he said. It made no sense to me. I had nothing to do with anything. I was just on the outskirts, being a normal person while trying to hold on to a somewhat normal life in the darkness creeping closer.

“Is there a reason for this?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer while simultaneously burning to know. “I…” He hesitated and I reached out to grasp his hand, halting myself just in time to not actually touch him. But he took my hand, a sizzling sensation shooting up along my arm from where our skin connected. “Because of this,” he said and squeezed my hand softly. “This?” My voice was a mere whisper while I looked at his large hand enveloping mine. “My… feelings, for you.”

My heart hammered, my pulse picking up, warmth spreading over my neck and cheeks. I had hoped, dreamt, and wished — yet, I’d never actually been delusional enough to think my own feelings were reciprocated by the stoic man. I’d overstepped my boundaries plenty of times, endeavouring to get close to him, and he’d at first appeared miserably angered by my attempts yet lately he’d allowed my intrusions upon his personal space. I’d mostly thought he’d given up on shooing me away, selfish as I was to keep coming back time and time again for my own want of him — my heart’s adamant howling about him being the only one for me.

“Wish to say something? Or am I to be held in uncertain limbo for the rest of my life?” he asked as I just kept staring at our joined hands, the shrieking wind beyond the cottage the only sound. It made me look up at him, the harshly held features of his face, the depth of his onyx eyes, the thin line his mouth was set in. All of him was tense and stiff, except the gentleness he held my now trembling hand with. “I thought my feelings were one-sided…” “I assure you, that was my intention. And I have failed in that regard. You are… persistent. ” That made me smile knowingly, for I was a very persistent person when it came to him. Other things I could easily give up on, but not him. Not what my heart wanted. “Regarding you, yes.” “It was foolish of you,” he said. “Now you��re in death’s sights.” “Aren’t we all? We will all die at some point. I’d rather die knowing I did all I could to follow my heart than hide in fear of it.” “You are far braver than me,” Severus exhaled while his thumb began to stroke my knuckles. “I highly doubt that, if rumours are true.”

Silence descended as we looked at each other. My stomach tied itself up in knots, my breaths came faster while all the words spoken began to sink in. An overwhelming need to embrace him nearly pushed me to move closer. I couldn’t read him though, nobody ever seemed able to. All I could see was a slight fear mixed with want in those dark eyes of his.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Am I driving myself wild with several long fics at a time? Yes. Am I regretting my decision to go deeper this year? No. Will I end up not even having needed the letter+number system this year? Maybe. But by gosh I am having so much fun writing these stories and it feels so good diving deeper than usual and getting to follow several characters for a longer time 😍👏 Also, I'll be continuing Snape's serial tomorrow again as the prompt lines up perfectly! *scurries off to start writing*

Q: If you have to pick between fluffy cuddling time or passionate smut in a fic - which is your pick? A: Passionate smut all the way for me 😂 I love and adore fluffy cuddling with all the feels but passionate smut with all the emotions running amok at the same time always hits the mark for me no matter what mood I'm in 🙈

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243

@morphineisouthoney @meteoritewolf69 @bionic-otp @elizabeth-baelish @romanceandsarcasm @severuslovebot @glowstar826 @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @a-queen-and-her-throne @impulse-anchor @commodoreseverus @writewithmarites @alisongurl13 @yan-senna @writewithmarites @reinekefoxart @nixislight @lokisbjchnl @ladykardasi @lyrixsnape @sunset90 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @daddythanatos

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

[angelofbloodlust]

Bunny (Billy Loomis x Reader)

A/N: Long time, no see, y’all 😳 sorry for my disappearance, I’ve been going through quite a lot but I’m happy to be back! I apologize if this story isn’t the best, it’s been a long time since I’ve written something like this and I’m still trying to get back in my groove- but if this ends up being well-received I’d be happy to try writing a part 2! <3 hope u guys enjoy!!

—————————————————

Your eyes scan over the backyard of the tan house sat in front of you once more, zoning in heavily on the blackened windows as your boots take hesitant steps forward towards the home of your fellow peer that you’ve been watching for weeks now. Shallow breaths escape you as your chest begins to pound, a flurry of both panicked and thrilled emotions swarming your stomach as your hand tightens on the butcher knife in your hold.

You were finally about to experience your first kill, after taking so many precautions and endless planning. You figured now would be the perfect time with the other murders that has had Woodsboro in chaos, the police department has already got themselves absorbed in solving the murders of Casey and Steve, if you manage to get through this unscathed you could easily let the other nutjob take the blame and get to work on your next plan.

But, that’s easier said than done.

You suck in a breath through your nostrils as you cautiously approach the cracked window ahead of you, the one you’ve witnessed be pushed open by the student’s mother each night before bed, just like clockwork. Though of course, you ensured that neither of her parents would be home that night, and you were glad they were dumb enough to trust their daughter enough to be able to defend herself with a psychopath on the loose.

Your teeth remain clenched as you slowly lift yourself up and climb through the window after pushing it open, being careful to not let your costume get caught and allowing your jaw to relax once you step from the marble of the countertops down to the wooden plank flooring below. Anxiousness to get upstairs and cut the girl’s head off stabs at you as your eyes find the stairs from your view out of the kitchen, though you force yourself to keep your pace as you take light steps on your path towards your goal, and feel relief at the fact none of the floorboards have creaked so far. Annoyance swiftly follows after as you notice the stairs aren’t carpeted, internally grumbling a couple curses while readying yourself to have to take your backup plan in case you accidentally make a noise and wake the girl up.

You make your way up slowly, begging in your mind for each step not to creak, and as you’ve made walked up all but 2 steps, you can’t help but feel a smug grin curl over your lips underneath your mask as you relish in the fact that everything’s gone so smoothly.

And immediately you regret that thought, once you and the short brunette standing in front of the bathroom door both freeze up in shock from the sight of the other.

“Shit, you’re not supposed to be awake!” You groan out, scowling at yourself once you process that you accidentally said that out loud.

Your body tenses as your words seem to have triggered the girl out of her state of shock, a blood-curling wail slipping from her lips at the sight of the knife in your hand before she runs to attempt scampering back into her bedroom to hide from you, sobs and screams pouring from her as you growl under your breath while bolting up the last couple steps and over the carpet towards her.

“Stop yelling!” You whine in panic from her loudness, before narrowing your eyes at your sudden idiocy with the situation. Why the fuck would she listen to you?!

A frustrated huff leaves you as she manages to slam the door on you, leaving you to violently push and slam on the now locked door while spilling out any indecent word your brain can think of in the moment. How could this have gone any worse? Your plan was all for nothing now!

Anxiety twirls in your gut as you look between the door and the stairs, having to make a quick decision as you’re sure the cops have been called by now and won’t take long to arrive. You exhale out, before making the final call to abandon the plan and speed back down the stairs, hopping over anything in your way as you head into the kitchen and back out the window.

Brief relief hits you as the soles of your shoes meet the grass again, taking a swift glance behind you while running for the patch of woods ahead of you. Your exhale out is interrupted as you suddenly collide into something, which you thought was a tree for a split second until the object ahead of you slips out a grunt once they stumble back slightly.

You look back forward in surprise, shock waving you as your vision is taken up by the same white and black mask morphed into a scream that you previously slipped on after making the discovery the other killer had worn it. A squeak leaves your lips as the man in front of you takes a rough grip on your upper arms, shifting around to face your towards the woods and push you forward as he gives a huff out.

“Go, I’m not gonna let you get us caught.” He hisses out, balling the back of your costume into his fist to ensure you keep moving as he leads you further way from the house while you struggle to wrap your head around what’s happening.

“H-How did you know I was-”

“We were in the area prepping, and we could hear that bitch’s scream from a mile away.” He huffs in response.

“Oh..” You mumble, embarrassment now filling your cheeks as he continues to guide you like you’re a disobedient child, wanting to pull from his grip but feeling unsure of how he might react. “...Did you say we?” You question suddenly as you shift your head to look back to him.

“Yes. No more questions, I think I have a right to be the one questioning you instead. Who the fuck are you?” He asks in a strict tone, and despite his mask covering his expression, you could somehow feel the rage radiating off of him at your presence.

You narrow your hidden eyes, “Why would I tell you that?? I don’t even know who you are!”

“I said no more questions.”

“I think it’s a pretty reasonable one if you’re gonna only ask questions I don’t wanna answer!”

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be then we can both remain anonymous. How about this, instead?” He hums, “Did you even kill her? I don’t see any blood on you.”

“..No.. She locked the door on me before I could grab her, I wanted to kill her in her sleep but she was awake once I got inside.” You admit in a sheepish mumble.

He scoffs, “A door stopped you?” You scowl as he chuckles in amusement at your actions. “I suppose that’s reasonable, you are pretty small. Wouldn’t expect you to be able to be able to break it down.” He teases, causing you to grumble out as you wiggle from his grip and turn to face him.

“Hey, it was my first time, and I was panicking! Take it easy on me.” You demand with a pout.

He crosses his arms as he looks down to you, “Tsk, you tried to do it all on your own? No wonder you failed.”

“I spent months planning it, I thought I would’ve done well..” Your voice cracks through your sentence, leaving you to attempt sighing away your urge to cry while you turn back to keep walking, your eyes sticking down to watch your steps while the man with you gives an exhale as he follows at your side.

“Alright, alright, I’ll quit being so harsh. But it takes someone naturally skilled to be able to do it on their own, you know? You think you have everything you need, but even the littlest thing that doesn’t go to plan can fuck it all up. Maybe for you, you just need a bit of teaching to make sure you’re ready for anything.” He shrugs.

“Are you.. offering to help me?” You question gently through the mix of shock and confusion in your chest as to why this stranger is willing to take you under his wing, tilting your head slightly up to him.

“Maybe. But you need to prove that you’re serious about this.”

You begin to question him on how you can prove it, before stopping at the beginning of your sentence once the two of you cross through the patch of woods and up to a parked car on the lone street in front of you. An unsure sensation fills your gut as he makes you stay back while he walks over to the driver’s side window, and you begin to question to yourself if this might really be a safe decision to go with the psychopaths that you were about to frame.. But at the same time, this might be your real chance to be able to finally learn the proper ways of murder.

Soon enough, he walks back over to you and gestures to your mask. “To go any further with this, I need to see your face if you’re going to see ours. It’s only fair.” He requests you in a calm tone, and you hesitate as you frown as you pick up sudden worried thoughts. What if he just wanted to be able to rat you out and let you take blame for everything?

“Hey, you know you haven’t really proved your loyalty to me, either.. What if-”

You freeze as his hand reaches up for his own mask, watching him pull it off to reveal his cold, yet neutral expression as the guy you recognize to be Billy Loomis from your school stands in front of you. Your face reddens at the sight, you know him enough about him to have a thorough crush on him, though you suppose you didn’t know him quite enough to have realized that part of the reason you had been so drawn to him was the fact you were more alike than you had known.

“I’m risking everything for this. Do you know how much this could fuck up everything with us letting you in?” He sighs, and you watch as his lips form in a displeased pout. “The last thing I want is you getting caught doing this dumb shit, and if you’re going to steal our costume you at least need to not act like a moron while you’re in it.” He huffs with narrowed eyes.

“God- fuck, whatever. If you guys end up killing me, I have nothing to lose.” You grumble as you pull off your mask, holding your own pout while he takes up a smirk while looking you over.

“Just as cute as I expected you to be, bunny.” He purrs out in a playful tone, which causes you to give him a questioning expression through your heated cheeks at the nickname.

“Bunny?”

“You’re small, cute and quick. Like a bunny.” He grins.

“I will actually deck you if you call me that again.” You hiss out while he starts to lead you towards the car.

“No, you won’t. I could tell you liked it.” He chimes in a proud tone, laughing out once you reach to smack his arm with your face on fire.

“Shut your mouth, Loomis! You’re so annoying!” You whine as your voice pitches up with your embarrassment.

“Get your ass in the car, Y/N.” He snorts out as he nudges you towards the backseat.

“..You know my name?”

“You’re in my Physics class. I recognize you.” He chuckles gently, flashing you a brief smile before slipping into the passenger’s seat.

“Oh.” You hum, feeling content as you feel joy at the fact that he recognizes you, holding your own smile as you get into the back of the car before pausing once Stu Macher shoots you a grin from the driver’s seat.

“Hey, Y/N! Billy says you wanna join us, that true?” He asks through his classic happy tone, starting up the car while you manage to get yourself to nod as you confirm to yourself that the man you had only ever expected to be the class clown to be Billy’s partner in crime, though you weren’t entirely sure why you were caught off guard with the insane amount of loyalty Stu’s always shown to Billy over the years you’ve watched them be friends.

“Yeah.. Uh, sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see you. Didn’t think you were this kinda guy.” You snicker.

He gives an unbothered shrug, “Well, people always have their secrets, don’t they?” He chuckles, causing you to quirk an eyebrow once he flashes a grin over to Billy and laughing out once he smacks his shoulder in a manner to tell him to shut up. Stu smiles back at you again through the rear-view mirror, “It’s nice to have ya join us, though. I’m sure it’ll be real fun for the three of us.” He purrs, and you can’t help but get an unsettling feeling from the tinge of malice in his smirk, which you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be towards you.

You could only hope not.

[chaozsilhouette]

A Father’s Love

Another piece for @winterpower98's Swap Au.

I don’t really have a time frame for this scene, but with all the horror MK has had to endure in this AU I couldn’t help myself. I just needed a bit of fluff to break up my writing. Plus, I am all for Tang showing just how much he loves MK and being a protective father figure.

The poor boy needs a break, but we all know it won’t last.

_____________________________

“Well now, aren’t you a stubborn human.” Sun Wukong mused as he took in the one who dared to separate him from his creation.

The ground was split in a dozen directions. Craters dotted the landscape. The scent of volatile magic soaked the air. Yet, in the center of all this was a small circle of undisturbed land where his boy and the human stood unharmed.

The human didn’t look particularly impressive. If he had to guess, somewhere in his early to late thirties. He was obviously healthy but still suffered from the weaknesses all humans share. No, what truly caught his attention was the strangest sensation he knew this human. Almost as if the golden fillet was readying itself by his mere presence.

The human’s talent in magic was nothing to scoff at. Admittedly, it was nothing he couldn’t brush off, but seeing a human wielding so much raw power was supposed to be nearly impossible in this modern age. However, defying the odds here one stood before him trying to keep him from one of his treasures.

He was not alone in his curiosity. The Monkey King watched as MK stared at the bespeckled man in utter surprise.

“Since when could you do that?!” The newly revealed monkie demon all but screeched.

“Not too long.” The scholar cryptically stated.

His annoyance at the lack of an answer freed Mk of his fear. Just enough to swallow his need to be supported during this horrible moment and say what needed to be said. “You’ve got to run! Forget about me and get the others to safety!”

“I’d listen to my son if I were you, human.” The tyrant stated with a cocky smirk. “Since he’s started to learn his lesson about where he belongs I can be generous. You can take all your friends back home to rest up and we can continue another day.”

With a trembling hand, MK desperately gripped Tang’s pant leg. Praying that his love would be translated behind his pathetic display. “Please. I can’t see you get hurt because of me.” They were the kindest people he ever had the pleasure of knowing. He couldn’t bear knowing they got hurt trying to save him. The only reason they were in this crisis was because of him. If he hadn’t been so weak...

If he didn’t allow himself to be used, Wukong would still be trapped.

“Mk, you know I can’t leave anyone behind to suffer this tyrant’s hospitality.” The word was hissed out with more venom than a viper pit. “Especially not after learning of Macaque’s past.” Tang adjusted his stance so his side now supported the youth. His fingers twitched randomly, his eyes remained locked onto the armored demon. “Besides, we both know Mei would gut the two of us if we even think of considering it.”

It made no sense. They were in the presence of a being that filled the nightmares of all, from the lowliest human to celestial kings, yet young simian couldn’t help but smile. “Good point.” Compared to the Monkey Tyrant the young dragon was an insect, but she had earned the fear that accompanied her ire.

“Such a touching display. But do you really think you will be able to give him what he needs? That others will accept who he really is? You can say you love him until the sun blows up, but it will never change the fact he is me.” The Monkey King’s smile showed nothing but cruel amusement, but his tail betrayed his fraying patience.

“Do you take me for a fool? It doesn’t matter what he looks like, where he came from, or how he started out. He is my Son! And I refuse to let anyone abuse his kind heart ever again!”

Two hands slammed into the ground with unnatural force. Mystic runes and circles filled the air as the battlefield was bathed in a gentle yellow light. Golden ropes wrapped around the Tyrant as the earth formed a five-sided fortress around him. Symbols were burned into each side, somehow not concealing the burning rage from Sun Wukong’s enraged expression.

With that done, Tang grabbed MK’s hand and ran knowing full well both their lives depended on it. “Come on! That won’t distract him for long.”

Or at all. They hadn’t cleared five meters before they started to rocks crumble and mystic bindings viciously snap.

Somehow the two of them were able to reunite with Macaque and Mei in order to get some much-needed distance without any major obstacles. It was silently agreed that the Moneky Tyrant had let them leave. Why? They didn’t want to think about it. All they could do was patch themselves up and think of a new plan.

_____________________________

Pigsy treated them all to a delicious meal, after yelling at the four of them for tangling with the Monkey King. About how they could have gotten killed and berating them for thinking about leaving them behind. Tang was certain Pigsy’s volume was the only reason Macaque looked uncomfortable.

That night they all stayed with Sandy. It was agreed that they should stick together until the heat dies down. Mei stepped out to call her parents to warn them about ... everything. While Macaque had essentially taken over as her father figure it didn’t mean her birth parents were no longer a target. Macaque aided Sandy in setting up the spare rooms. Piggy was just cleaning up dinner and preparing a few things for breakfast.

Leaving Tang to begin creating wards to hang around the boat and MK to uncomfortably sit as he stared at the scholar.

“Why did you do that?”

Tang pushed up his glasses, looking more grave than the teen ever recalled seeing.

“I was preparing that spell the moment I opened my mouth. I figured after that outburst it was only a matter of time before he got bored playing nice and when for the kill. Despite what movies would make you believe, talking is not a free action.” His precious disciples learned that lesson the hard way.

“No. I mean...when you said all that stuff, did you really mean it? You view me as a son?” MK could barely get the last word out. It felt like all of this was just a wonderful dream and when he awoke he’d be back on Flower Fruit Mountain.

Tang set down his brush to fully face the demon. “Of course, I mean it. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” He poured his entire soul into that truth, a fact he was proud to scream to the heavens.

“Even when I look like this?” Sharing the same face of the demon who caused so much pain and suffering. He could barely stand it, but the thought of continuing to live in his human form just felt even more unbearable. He was tired of lies. Tired of being used.

“So you look like a demon monkey, big deal." Tang waved off the concern, regaining his trademark confident sass. "Last I checked, we are close with several demons one of which is a rather famous monkey. At your core, you are still the same MK we grew to know and care about. You may have started out as Wukong’s clone, but you have come a long way since then.”

Seeing that the boy was still unconvinced, Tang wrapped his arms around the child’s shoulders and brought him in for a hug. “You will always have a place with me, with any of us. You are loved and appreciated, Xiǎotiān. Never forget that.” Circles were slowly traced on his back as shaky breathing gradually evened out.

Xiǎotiān nuzzled his father’s neck. Taking in the scent of aged paper, ink, and tea. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course.” Gentle fingers slowly combed through his hair.

The world was falling into the depths of madness, but in this moment Xiǎotiān could deceive himself into believing everything would work out.

[angelguk]

→ pu$$y fairy — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 3.2k

genre: smut + college!au + jeongguk and oc are in a weird fwbs without the friendship part just the benefits except jaykay lowkey has feelings + virginity au

warnings: virgin!oc / blowjob / we talk about dicks for a bit / oc is strange / jaykay is confused / cum swallowing / first times / not really edited / mingyu the meddling best fwend

soundtrack: on the way, jhene aiko + hold on (slowed and reverb), the internet

Jeongguk doesn’t hate Mingyu. He truly doesn’t. He is one of his closest friends after all; he’d held him up after Jeongguk had dumped half a keg down his throat and his legs had promptly collapsed.  He’d also been a successful wingman for when Jeongguk was aiming to add Seolhyun to the list of girls he’d bagged, sent pictures of his organic chemistry notes when Jeongguk had missed more than half of the classes in high school and didn’t laugh at him when he was heart-broken over Sua and borderline depressed. He was a true friend; someone Jeongguk could rely on. It was a simple brother-like relationship that Jeongguk deeply treasured. So no, he could never hate Mingyu – but he could absolutely long to punch that insufferable asshole in the face.

He should have known this was going to go downhill exceptionally fast the moment you stumbled into his room, wide-eyed and nervous in your unsure steps. When his pants had hit the ground, the shock in your eyes was a dead giveaway to how messy this whole arrangement was going to be. The second clear sign was when you jumped out his window because the sight of his bare dick terrified you.

And this was all the result of Mingyu being a meddling shit who didn’t know when to mind his business.

He remembers it with a clarity that makes his shoulders tense, how Mingyu had snuck you into the conversation while twisting a soju bottle in his hands.

“Yo… JK…. You mind if I ask you a question?” He’d said. Jeongguk shrugged, focused on flipping the meat on the grill because he was starving and the prospect of cooked meat was a lot more appealing than feigning interest in a conversation. “Alright…," Mingyu took his silence as a cue to speak. “Have you ever fucked a virgin?”

He should have known then. He really should have known.

“I don’t know. I don’t ask any questions when I’m hard,” Jeongguk had replied, unknowing of the dangerous path this conversation was guiding him down.

“Yeah and most of the time you don’t fuck on an actual bed. I’m not even surprised you don’t ask questions.”

“Hey!” Jeongguk had swung the tongs around. “I ask important ones, like consent and making sure we’ve got a condom around. But virginity? Not my concern.”

“Seems a bit…. Whorish to me.”

“Not whorish. I just have my priorities elsewhere… Like cumming for example.”

Mingyu had sighed as he poured him a shot, the air leaving his lips heavy. “I shouldn’t even be asking you to be honest. You’re a decent guy but your kind of a dickhead when it comes to sex.”

“How does not pondering on virginity make me dickhead? Again, as I said, priorities are elsewhere.”

“Dude you’ve never even tried to have meaningful sex at least once in your life. When was the last time you were actually emotionally invested in the person you were sleeping with? Hmm?”

The answer was Sua and he knew that but Mingyu was decent enough to keep her name out of his mouth, the judging look in his eyes saying enough.

“You know… I don’t do well with the whole emotional thing. I prefer it physical. It’s less messy. But what does this even have to do with virginity?” Jeongguk hated to admit it but he was somewhat interested in where this conversation was going. If only he knew it was leading to a massive train wreck of the one thing, he steered clear from – emotions.

Mingyu had just sighed again, tipping the soju bottle into his shot glass once more. “There’s a girl who I’d like you to meet.”

He’d scoffed, mouth stuffed with a perilla leaf wrap. “You know I don’t do blind dates.”

“It’s not a blind date,” Mingyu had retorted, the glance he threw at his friend’s direction precarious. “She wants you to take her virginity.”

Jeongguk had choked. Of course, he had. Even if sex didn’t mean much to him, taking someone’s first time like that felt very transactional. And Jeongguk wasn’t that big of a dickhead. But then Mingyu had opened his mouth, spewing various details about your life to him that he would rather have not heard over a KBBQ lunch. You were a friend from one of his business lectures, rather eccentric but sweet and funny. You were also a virgin and terrified of approaching men on your own, one of the reasons Mingyu had sprung up this arrangement. Jeongguk wasn’t one to fall into things like this but it was too late. Mingyu was a marketing major for a reason, he knew how to spin words in his favour, convince people into agreeing to things that they normally would not. And that’s how Jeongguk found himself staring at your retreating figure after you’d thrown your body right out his window, landing hard on the lawn of the house he rented with Namjoon and Seokjin. The crazy thing was that you’d gotten up immediately, not showing any sign of a broken bone or injuries, before promptly sprinting down the road to the bus stop. He should have known then. He really should have known. And yet, here he is, pants discarded on the floor of his room and his dick aching from being unrelieved for longer than it’s ever been, while you crouch over him, squinting at his penis like it’s a foreign object that could kill you.

“Could you please stop staring at my penis like that.” He says it out of frustration, but also the way you’re examining his length makes him feel self-conscious in a way he hasn’t felt like in a long time.

“Sorry,” you murmur, not breaking eye contact with his dick. “I’m just… fascinated. It’s rather….” The sentence tapers out and you swallow hard as if it pains you to admit it, “...Ugly.”

Jeongguk decides then and there he hates you.

“I mean... It’s not that it’s ugly!” you swiftly attempt to amend, catching the glare he directs at you. “It’s also big!”

“I know. And you just said it was ugly,” Jeongguk retorts, weighing the options in his head. Either get a poor blowjob from a girl he’s terrified of (but also bizarrely attracted too) or kick you out of his room and finish himself off. The situation sucks either way but it’s better than the last time when you’d leapt out of the window like a gazelle.

“I misspoke,” you say, gently falling onto your knees. You flash him a shy smile, a soft delicate little thing that makes your eyes glitter and Jeongguk instantly picks the first option. “It’s just different to what I expected it to look like.”

He scoffs, swallowing hard on the sudden lump in his throat. “There’s no way you haven’t seen a dick before. You don’t watch porn?”

The grimace you make is enough of an answer. “I have… Not all the time though, it’s too much for me sometimes. Also, it’s weird seeing it in real life and not, like, through a screen.”

“Noted. But still, it’s not that ugly,” Jeongguk murmurs, trying not to compare his penis to the visuals he has in his head. His pride is wounded from that comment he won’t deny it.

“It kinda is,” you reply. Jeongguk flicks your forehead in retaliation. “Ow! Why’d you do that.” There’s that stupid pout in your lips as you glower at him. He despises how his dick twitches at the sudden thought of your pretty mouth wrapped around his length. Despises it even more when you gasp at the slight motion trembling through him. “It moves?!”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighs, wondering how on Earth you’re over the age of twenty and still like this. “It does. Also, don’t insult my dick. It’s rude.”

“Sorry again,” you pause as if you’re considering whether what you might utter next is offensive. You open your mouth anyway, unable to comprehend the fact that your words are slowly chipping away at his ego. “It’s kinda scary that it moves.”

“Oh my god, you are the literal worst.” Jeongguk thinks his boner might evaporate. It’s a miracle it’s lasted this long. You’d sauntered into his room around half an hour again and he’d been hard from the get-go. Truly amazing his balls hadn’t shrivelled up yet. “You know you’re about to blow me off right?”

“I know… I’m stupid,” you counter, eyebrows furrowing together like you’re attempting to figure out exactly how Jeongguk’s dick works. It’d be very simple if you just asked him. It’s essentially an up and down motion, some swirls, a lot of wetness. Nothing too difficult. But when you glance up at him, the innocent glaze over your eyes almost hopeless, he can tell it feels the same as defusing a bomb. “I just… Don’t know what to do. Show me?”

And there it is - the foolish little thing that landed Jeongguk here half-naked on the edge of his bed in the first place. Even though you were mildly repulsed by the male autonomy you were still so eager to learn. Something Jeongguk didn’t know he would be into until you posed that question and his balls tightened in a way they have never done before.

“Okay,” he mumbles, hoping you don’t suspect the twitch that runs through his length when you say that. Not like you would, to be fair.

But then you sweep your hair back, lean in fast, no preparation or anything before your breath is brushing against his crotch and Jeongguk nearly screams.

“Woah, woah, woah! I thought you just asked me to show you? What are you doing?” Maybe he scuttles further down the bed, terrified of the rush of heat you send straight to his gut.  

Your eyes flicker upward, bright and ingenuous. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“You’re not -,” Jeongguk sighs breath weighing through the air. “You’re not doing it wrong. I just think... We should go slow right? It’s your first time? Maybe don’t rush into it?”

“I watched a YouTube video and they said to do it like that,” you reply. Jeongguk can’t help but blink at you, brain reeling from attempting to understand your being.

“You watched a - never mind. You’re giving me a headache. And I thought you knew nothing. Porn would have been a better research alternative but to each their own.”

“I did it for preparation! I didn't know it’d be this nerve-wracking in real life. And, I told you, real dicks are gross. She used a dildo.”

“How is a dildo any different to a real dick?” Jeongguk fingers dig into the mattress a little harder when you lean it once more, gingerly resting your head against his knee.

“It’s just different. Less grotesque. And they come in various colours.”

He might just actually scream. “It’s literally made to replicate a penis.”

You sigh, your breath skipping against his skin. The room is suddenly tight, closing in on him and you’re not even really touching him. And then you catch your lip between your teeth, pressing down with a quick thoughtful bite. “I think you’re deflecting right now.”

“I’m not,” he splutters. “Why would I even be deflecting right now?”

“I mean, we’re having a conversation about dildos when your dick is hard and I’m meant to be blowing you. Sounds like deflection doesn’t it?” He hates the way your eyes glitter, bright and captivating as your gaze locks into his.

“Like I said,” Jeongguk retorts, “We should take it slow.”

“Okay then. I’m done talking about dildos unless you have anything else to add?”

“I don’t,” he murmurs, “Okay then, onto giving a blowjob.”

“Onto giving a blowjob,” you reiterate. And then, like a psychopath, you smile. “Where should I start?”

He hates that body is on edge right now, hands trembling even though he hides them by squeezing his bed-sheets tight. “Try giving it a lick first? You can put your hand around the base too - if you want to.”

“Here?” His knees nearly buckle when you wrap your warm palm around his length, grip firm around the base of his cock. But that’s nothing to the gentle lap of your tongue against the side of his cock, a quick little thing and nearly launches him off the bed.

“Oh - uh - yeah, there.” His voice sounds far off and without warning your mouth is against him once more, tongue a sinful little thing that slips along his length, wet and warm and so sneaky he’s unsure of what to respond with apart from an instinctual buck of his hips. It’s easy like this, your tongue pressed against his cock and your hands slowly dragging upwards, placing a perfect pressure along his length that leaves him sighing into the air of his bedroom. Your movements grow more direct, reading the increasing desperation in Jeongguk’s body as he moves closer and closer to you, waiting until you feel sure enough. And then, finally, your mouth sinks onto him.

He nearly whimpers. Nearly. There’s a heat pooling in his gut and ebbs through every muscle and nerve, the coil of his desire springing tighter with each inch that slips down your throat. You take him so well, Jeongguk can’t help but watch in awe, the wideness in your eyes making him harder than he’s ever been in his life. Even with your inexperience, the way you swallow his cock is obscene. It’s an imagery Jeongguk engraves in his memory, purposefully stored because he knows he’ll think about it whenever his desires override his logical thoughts again. You lap him up like you want this, a soft moan echoing from your throat and along his length as you move deeper, mouth plaint to his dick. He forces himself to sit still, give you the time to adjust, lick and taste to your leisure, forcing the impending wave of heat back down into his gut. He holds it there even when you move away, the sound of your wet mouth popping off his dick permeating the air.

And of course, you lick your lips afterwards, a swift swipe of your pink tongue against them, your eyes trained on his.

“Like that?” you ask.

Jeongguk’s going to die. He is. And you’ll be the reason why listed on his death certificate.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, chest tight with want. “Like that.”

You lean back in without question, mouth taking his length like you were made for it and your hand works against the parts of him you can’t reach just yet. His mind wanders as his eyes take in this sight of you, on your knees and mouth open wide just for him. Someday he’d like to see if you could truly take his length, all of it. Down your throat. Hard and fast like his hips wanted to go. But this is more than perfect. How you concentrate on blowing him like you want to see him spill himself down your throat. It’s almost adorable, the earnestness in your gaze every time your eyes flicker upwards as your mouth moves along his cock. He likes this more than he’s willing to admit, the slowness in your pace, how your tongue is shy sometimes when it laves against his tip. It’s a change from what he usually gets - and a welcome one too. A tiny part of him feels like it would be fitting to hold your hand. You’re so pretty too, especially when your lips are on him. He’d like to take care of you, see what your face looked like when his tongue was deep inside of you, know what your taste like as you moan out his name. He doesn’t even register the words as they leave his mouth, head lost in the images colouring his thoughts.

“Taking me so well, baby,” he can’t help the grunt, the pet name natural to him, “So pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

And you hum like you like it - like you like pleasing him, sinking further down until his tip bumps against the back of your throat. The zip down his spine nearly sends him spiralling.

“Baby,” he feels it then, when your eyes shift to meet his, the snap in his gut. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum. You need to stop right now if you don’t want to down your throat.”

But you don’t, moving faster like the twitch of his dick in your mouth spurs him on, your lips firm as they wrap around him. He doesn’t hold in his moves this time, hips gently moving up to meet your mouth, the tremor running through his bulky thighs nothing but a warning before it hits him hard. A wave of heat, melting through his muscles as his eyes flutter shut, your tongue lapping him right up, no protest as he unravels down your throat. It’s over in an instant but Jeongguk feels like mush, head floating and his bones soft with how hard his back hits the mattress. You pull off his length a second later, letting him feel you swallow all of him first.

“Holy shit.” His mouth is still disconnected from his brain.

There’s a beat of silence, so awkward that Jeongguk shuffles himself back onto his elbows even though his bones feel like giving way. And then your laugh tinkles through the air, a soft gentle thing that makes his heart seize in his chest.

“That… wasn’t so bad,” you say, staring at him with an ease that spikes an urge to press his lips against yours in his heart.

“Oh,” he replies, like an idiot. “You liked it?”

“Well, it didn’t suck… pun intended. Your moans are really loud.”

Jeongguk blushes - he blushes - even after the stupid joke you made.

“Um, yeah. I do, I guess. Sorry, I kind of forgot to show you what to do. But you’re a bit of a natural, to be honest.” He abhors the diffidence in his voice.

“I guessed that,” you retort, the smile on your face hypnotic, “From your really loud moaning.”

“Can you - fuck how do you ruin any intimate moment when it happens?”

“Guess I’m a natural at that too,” you say it with a laugh, and Jeongguk can’t help the smile that tugs against his lips.

“Um,” he tries, fully aware of the front view seat you were getting of his soft dick. He sits up to try and shield it, feeling awfully exposed. “If you’d like… I could return the favour?”

“No, I’m good.” There’s zero hesitation in your voice and you’re up before Jeongguk can think of a decent excuse to keep you in his room. “Maybe another time? I’ll text you. Bye Jeongguk.”

It’s then he regrets not encouraging you to undress earlier, his assumption that this would be the worst blowjob of his life incredibly incorrect. Perhaps if your clothes were scattered around his bedroom he could have found a way to convince you into his sheets while you searched for them. But you’re fully dressed, already bounding out of his door like his dick wasn’t down your throat moments ago. He watches you go with forlornness, mouth dry with words he’s incapable of expressing at this very instance and his heart oddly warm at the sight of your skipping away with a carefreeness he admires. He still hates that you’re leaving, perhaps the only positive of this situation is that you’re using his bedroom door instead of his window.

“Bye,” Jeongguk mumbles into the vacant air. You don’t even catch it, shooting him a quick grin before you’re bounding down the stairs as if this doesn’t even matter to you. A stumble on a stepping stone to something greater. He plucks up his phone, pants still lost somewhere on the floor. Blocking Mingyu for twenty-four hours should be enough of a punishment, right?

mingyu the man [10:21pm]

bro..

you alive?

jaykay [10:26pm]

i focking hate u

u know that right?

mingyu the man [10:31pm]

you dont my g

how was it?

did she jump out the window this time?

jaykay [10:34pm]

worse

mingyu the man [10:37pm]

bro wtf wot she do??

jaykay [10:40pm]

she actually gave me head

mingyu the man [10:45pm]

????

how is that worse dude you’re just as weird as her

jaykay [10:46pm]

ITS WORSE CAUSE I LIKED IT

mingyu the man [10:51pm]

damn....

you like crazy coochie don’t you

jaykay [10:52pm]

WHAT R U EVEN

MAN FUCK

I HATE U

mingyu the man [10:53pm]

lmao u don’t i brought her into your life u lurve me

im best man for the wedding

not jaehyun

u got dat right

jaykay [10:56pm]

i hope you fall into a ditch and die

mingyu the man [10:58pm]

okay big man

you gon see her again tho?

jaykay [10:59pm]

....maybe

idk man im fucked up right now

like???

SHE JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW??

mingyu the man [11:01pm]

and u still invited her over to suck your dick again

crazy coochie got u bad bruh

jaykay [11:06pm]

FUCK U

mingyu the man [11:11pm]

mhmm if thats what u say

i have a class wid her to tomorrow

any messages u want to pass on?

hello?

[mingyu the man is blocked]

hello? jaykayyyyyy

JAYKAY

SEAGULL

damn he got it bad

[butterbeerblurbs]

feeling heavy in the strongest arms (f.w.)

💌 : today, your heart felt exceptionally heavy. fred holds your heart gently in his hands, willing to keep you in his arms even if he doesn’t know why you feel that way. as long as it makes you feel a little bit better, that was all fred was willing to take.

📝 word count: 1,786 words / fred weasley x reader / 🌸 ☔️ pretty sad feels but somewhat comforting...? idek

💬: i just pictured, this could be one of the way fred could comfort y/n when she’s feeling upset and there’s no direct reasoning (also bc i see fred as someone who’s sensible to someone’s emotions, especially someone he’s infatuated with ;w;)

from the moment fred’s eyes landed on you in the great hall to start off his morning, something didn’t quite sit right. sure, you gave him the usual smile that sends the tingles down his spine and the burst of warmth gently combusts within when he’s able to spare you a kiss on your cheek as you take your spot next to him but... still, something’s not right.

“g’morning pretty lady,” fred tries the playful method and anticipates for the usual look of “fake” disgust. it doesn’t happen. instead he gets a small smile, a chuckle, even though he feels like that’s the last thing you want to be doing. 

“good morning, freddie,”

yet, fred doesn’t think it’s all that good.

he lets it slide, deciding not to bring it up in the morning when... maybe, just maybe, you didn’t sleep well? he’s hoping for that to be the case (because then it’s another excuse to take a nap together) but... no. when hermione asks if you slept well, you said you slept like a baby. you slept through angelina’s bloody snoring. that only meant you did sleep well.

if it’s not sleep then... hm... could it be-”oi, what are you doing? thinking about eating your own girlfriend for breakfast instead of what’s in front of you?”

fred turns to a mirror of himself, raising a brow with a smirk, “do you really want me to answer that, georgie?”

george gags and looks away, “merlin, you’re going to make me vomit out what i just ate,”

fred hears your voice laughing at what you’ve managed to hear between him and his twin. but when he glances back and locks eyes with you for a moment, he still doesn’t buy that everything’s alright.

//

said ginger boy is still confused as the day continues.

he’s had hours to ponder upon this and the more he observes from you, the more confused he gets. his answers doesn’t match up with the way you were acting (yes, he has been staring at you for a rather long time than doing actual work). it’s like... you were fine? but not really? fine to the eyes of the public, tip-top shape but... nothing about you gets past fred weasley.

absolutely nothing. not when he’s spent days upon months that gathered into the years of learning about you, still surprising himself how much he’s able to love you more each day.

this... this was new.

he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. he’ll continue thinking about it if it wasn’t for-”mr. weasley, maybe you’ll be able to produce something of worth if you actually did the work,” snape’s voice stiffen’s fred’s spine, and snape’s hand physically pushes the nape of his neck down to get to work.

he’ll get down to this soon enough... after potion’s, it seems.

//

surprisingly, fred manages to complete the task just in time for snape to barely let him scrape out of his classroom. fred anticipates he’ll have to rush after you as he collects his things but-”you alright, freddie?”

that voice makes him almost drop his book, missing his bag by an inch as he snaps his head towards the source of who that voice belonged to.

he gapes when you’re standing in front of him with a small smile, books to your chest and bag over your shoulder. you came to check up on him. even when it seems like the world has been unfairly cruel to you, you, still proved the world wrong with such kindness fred thinks you must be an actual angel.

“y-y/n,” he gapes, and that’s starting to-”you’re scaring me, freddie, are you alright?”

he runs his hand through his hair and stares at you, bewildered. however, he is thankful that the room is now empty as the remaining couple of students flutter out. “how?”

he hates how you look genuinely confused as your brows knit together, a pout forming whenever you felt unsure about something.

“h-how what?”

“how could you ask me that? how?” he shoves his book into his bag and leaves it on the stool, now both hands freely extending towards you to give you a gentle shake by your sides, “how can you ask me that when you’re the one not feeling okay?”

like a switch, fred watches as the facade you’ve been putting up all morning seems to crumble. he notices it starts with your breath hitching, which then slowly trails off to how your eyes appear sharp, suddenly blurry with the tell-tales of tears glassing over. fred could see himself frowning in them, and he absolutely hates the gut-wrenching feeling that swallows him whole.

even when you’re about to cry, there’s still a smile on your face.

“i-i can’t seem to hide anything from you, huh fred weasley?”

fred takes this moment to slip your books past your hands, nudging them onto the table. you allow your bag to slip from your shoulders as he tries to keep you close. and he doesn’t know if he’s doing that for your sake, or his.

“i... i feel heavy, freddie,” your voice barely makes it out to him, but it does. and each word is breaking his heart as he watches you try to explain your feelings that you weren’t completely sure of yourself. “it’s like... there’s a weight on my heart, pressing me down and i-”you lick your lips, tasting the saltiness trickling down you cheeks-”-i... feel so heavy, my heart feels so heavy,” you’re clutching onto the fabric of your robe directly above your heart, “it hurts so much, and i don’t even know why,” your voice is strained, stretched out across acres of trying to figure out why you feel like this but to no avail.

“i was feeling okay when i woke up this morning,” your lips are quivering at this point, sniffing as the tears can’t seem to stop, “why does it feel like my world has turned upside down all of a sudden?” fred knows you’re not asking him for the answer, rather, if there was a cruel higher up that was playing mind games with you, that was surely where your questions were directed to.

“i-i have everything, maybe not everything entirely but i should be happy,” you breathed in and out heavily, feeling your knees shaking, “and i am, genuinely am, but today,” fred doesn’t know since when you were out of breath, “m-my heart aches so much,”

fred flinches when you blink up to him, tears falling like your heart at the unexplainable weight that made its way without you noticing. he holds you tight, almost crushing you as he keeps you close to him like it’s the only thing he knows how to comfort you now. your hands don’t even make it around him, only going so far up to his waist to clutch onto the material of his robe hanging by his sides. he closes his eyes and gently strokes the back of your head, attempting to ease your sobs against his chest. he’ll willingly soak all of your tears, sadness, any ill feelings if he could. but knowing he can’t, if this could make you a little bit better or ease just a portion of the weight you were feeling, that’s as much as he’s grateful for.

it feels like an eternity ticked by but in reality it’s a mere ten minutes. your erratic breathing has calmed down from the nosedive of emotions you displayed that it’s starting to make you blush a little. fred only notices this when you’ve gone extremely quiet. he leans back just a little to peek at you, not only with red puffy eyes but also red cheeks.

“what’s the matter, love?” he asks softly, dipping down to get a glance at your eyes that seem too shy to meet with his now.

“i... i’m sorry, this was a lot to take in and... i just realised how much it was,” your tone was different this time. it registered to fred that... this was a tone he recognized. one of your hands remain holding to his robe, while the other reaching up to lightly punch his chest.

it may sound ridiculous but fred could hear yourself coming back. he could feel the aura around your changing.

“don’t tell me you’re sorry, y/n. you’re absolutely mad if you feel that now,” he raises a brow at you, “after all you just said? and cried? are you crazy?”

that makes you giggle - a genuine one, fred thinks - hands gingerly crawling around him to finally return the long-awaited hug.

“well... it’s... it’s not everyday you suddenly have to deal with your girlfriend bursting into tears and have no specific reason for it,” your voice is still raspy and sore from all the crying, but fred could pick out the syllables that gesture to him sonically that you were feeling better.

“i’d gladly take all of that in if it means i’m helping you overcome it,” he proudly puffs his chest out with that grin on his face but it also makes your heart swell at how much love you could feel he’s pouring just from the way he’s staring at you.

“thank you, freddie,” you lean forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, cheek against his chest. you can hear him smile as he squeezes you, then sway your bodies idly as he hums back, “don’t need to thank me, love,”

as the pair of you stay like that in silence (only for a few more minutes before you’d have to hurry along for the day), it’s like there’s an understanding that fred can’t possibly lift the weight up entirely for you. these were your emotions, after all.

but that doesn’t mean fred can’t stay with you as you get through them.

hand in hand, chest to chest.

((”promise if you want to cry, you’ll come to me? or at least, come see me after?” fred didn’t give you room to answer as he squishes your cheeks, towering over you with concerned eyes even though you're laughing, “yes, love? is that a yes? if you’re laughing like a goddess sent from above, i’ll take that as a yes!”

he was having a bit of trouble trying to push your cheeks together when you were grinning so wide, it’s making his heart do somersaults. not even the groaning of people at the common room could divert him away. (the both of you were, afterall, just mere steps away from them when you’re just by the stairs)

“yes, freddie, promise.”

“atta girl.” he winks, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he watches you go up to your room.))

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Chapter 6

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader (feat. EXO members)

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo

Masterlist

You didn’t sleep. It just wasn’t possible, not when your mind was still going 500 miles per hour replaying every little detail of your time together in Baekhyun’s office. The way he sucked on the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, how you felt him dig into your hip as he’d sandwiched you between himself and the wall. Your entire stomach felt like it might leave your body if you didn’t get a hold of yourself. What end it would come out of, you had yet to decide on. 

The night dragged on and on and eventually you gave up, knowing it wasn’t going to happen. Sleep was not an option when your brain felt like it was running a marathon with you powerless to stop it. The thought just would not stop. Your own hormone filled brain had you by the balls.

Eventually you dragged your groggy self into the shower in an attempt to wake back up. The second you felt the hot water pour over your skin, you felt some of the tension in your muscles dissipate. It was like you could finally breathe deeply again, the heat forcing your body to relax, at least physically.

 By the time you were out of the shower it was around 5:00am. When you stepped out and began to dry yourself off you noticed the trail of dark purple marks going all the way from your neck down to your collarbones. Damn genetics for making you bruise so easily. You internally cursed yourself for letting him leave marks on you at all, but of course that had been the last thing on your mind in the moment. Mia would immediately have something to say when she saw them too, and you were not ready to recant the events of the night prior out loud to her. 

Seeing as it was already the early morning you decided it would be best to just get ready and get out of the house so you wouldn’t have to face her yet. You did your usual routine, and decided that after all the stress you’d been through in the last several hours, you’d treat yourself to breakfast at your favorite bakery. It was a quaint little place only a few blocks away that had amazing croissants and coffee and you figured it would at least temporarily help block out the crippling thoughts of his teeth grazing against the skin of your neck. Why the fuck did it have to feel that good?? 

You didn’t bother trying to cover the marks. It was far too warm still to wear anything like a turtleneck and you knew they were too dark for concealer to work. Damn his beautiful lips for creating something so visible yet so blasphemous.

After finishing your usual morning routine, you headed to the café and ordered your favorite. 

Croissant in hand, you were flipping through a book, sitting and enjoying your coffee when you heard your name, and looked up to see a familiar man, tall and slightly dorky looking, gazing down at you. 

“Yeah that's me, Chanyeol, right?” You asked.

“Yeah...” He stared down at you with an unreadable look on his face, and you wondered if he would force you to talk to him. You had only met Chanyeol once before, the first night he brought Baekhyun to your work. “Can I sit down?” 

“Uh... I guess. How do you know my name?” 

In all honesty you really did not want him to sit down with you. Of course he would want to talk about Baekhyun. You’d have rather poured your hot coffee down your pants than talked to him in that moment. This was exactly what you’d come here to avoid but the universe just had not been on your side lately. 

“Baekhyun told me. I’m glad I ran into you, I’ve never seen you here before, I always get my coffee here in the morning.”

“Well I’m usually not much of a morning person.” You replied, eyes on your coffee as you raised the mug to your lips, hoping it would magically invigorate you with the energy to have this conversation. It didn’t. 

“I actually need to talk to you about him.”

You immediately groaned in frustration. “Does this have to happen right now? I’m trying to have a relaxing morning and I’d really rather not talk about him right now.” You looked at him with a face that more or less said ‘please for the love of god just leave me alone’ but unfortunately for you he was quite determined, so he sat down across from you anyway. This stranger was really about to ruin your desperate attempt at a peaceful morning. 

“Just.. please be careful with him.” He started. “He’s the best person I know and he’s been through a lot recently. I don’t know what your intentions are with him but he likes you a lot and I don’t want to see him get hurt even more than he already has been.” 

You sighed. You could see where he was coming from. Anyone would be worried about their friend if they were in his situation. He probably thought you still only wanted Baekhyun’s money, that you were just the stripper who hit the jackpot with a guy who’s rich and nice. It was a realistic thing to be worried about. Customers like him were definitely the most profitable and girls would string them along all the time knowing how attached they were and take their money anyway. The more they thought they actually had a chance, the more they were generally willing to spend, too.  

“If you think I’m just using him for his money, I’m really not. I don’t know how much he’s told you, but last time he paid me I even tried to give it back.”

“Yeah he told me about that, so I figured you weren’t all bad, but still. And he talks to me about you a lot. It almost makes me regret bringing him to the club in the first place. If you end up screwing him over I’ll feel like it’s my fault too you know. That’s why I knew I had to say something when I saw you.” 

“You’re a good friend. But you really don’t need to be worried.” 

He raised an eyebrow, obviously not convinced. “Does he know you’re seeing other people?” 

You gave him a puzzled look, but quickly understood when his eyes drifted down to the marks decorating the skin of your neck. You knew he was only asking to protect his friend, but the accusing look on his face irked you anyway. Blood was already rushing to your cheeks at the thought of having to tell him where they’d really come from. 

“I, um, I’m actually not seeing other people...” You crossed your arms over your chest, slumping down into your seat in a subconscious effort to hide. By now you knew you were probably red all over, easily giving you away. The feeling of dread made its way back into your stomach, and your croissant didn’t even seem appealing to you anymore. “You haven’t talked to him since last night have you?” 

 His eyes went so wide you worried for a moment that they might pop right out of his skull and roll across the table and into your lap. 

“Did he..?” You nodded slowly, desperately trying to avoid giving him any of the thrilling details. “You guys slept together? You didn’t just come from his place did you? You didn’t just leave? I swear to god if you-”

“No!” You quickly clarified. “We didn’t sleep together, and I never went to his house, we just, um..” Your guts felt like they were about to end up on the table again, but Chanyeol was still looking at you expectantly. “I needed help with an assignment so I went to his office last night... we kissed, but that’s all.” 

“Quite some kiss it seems...” He said staring at the path of blue and purple that went all the way from below your ear to the hem of your shirt. And oh how he was right. It really had been something. Never in your life had a kiss affected you as much as Baekhyun’s had. Of course it had been much much more than just one little kiss, but there was no way you were going to say any more. The feeling of your stomach desperately trying to escape your body was too strong and you liked this café too much to get kicked out for vomiting all over the booth. 

“I thought more was gonna happen but he kind of threw me out of his office before we could, you know...” 

“He threw you out?” 

“Yeah, like grabbed my arm, dragged me into the hallway, and slammed the door behind him.” 

“Jesus what a dumbass.” You heard him whisper. “Do you like him the same way he likes you though?” You hesitated for a moment, but nodded again, and immediately noticed how his face lit up. “You know I really thought you were just going with it for the money. I’m glad you actually care about him as a person.” 

 “I mean I’ve known him a while now, how could I not...” You found yourself staring down at your hands as you fidgeted nervously, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of you. “Even if he wasn’t my professor now, he’s still just a good guy. I’ve never had a customer like him before. As dumb as it is, I’d be stupid not to like him, he makes it too easy.”

At that point Chanyeol was smiling widely back at you. “He’s an amazing guy, and he’s crazy about you. You won’t regret it.” A smile plastered itself onto your face as well, satisfied with his comment. “You know at first when me and the other guys found out he was coming back to see you every weekend we gave him so much shit.” 

You laughed, because you could imagine it perfectly. It honestly was quite stupid of him to get involved with a stripper of all people. You saw how many times guys would try to start something real with you or the other girls at your work only to leave with a broken heart and empty pockets, but that was just a part of your job. When you were first starting out you’d feel bad for them sometimes, but eventually you got used to it. These men weren’t exactly the pinnacle of society anyway, you told yourself. It didn’t help that those guys were always willing to spend more money too. They were really just screwing themselves over. It’s silly to expect anything real from a woman whose job it is to take money in exchange for temporary affection. Technically Baekhyun was also just another one of those stupid men who got themselves in too deep with someone completely unattainable, only now you actually liked him too.

“He is an idiot for that, for sure, but I’m just as much of an idiot for liking him back so I guess he won.” You laughed together, and you were beginning to feel much more at ease with him and with the conversation, thank heavens. 

“Thanks for letting me sit down, you really have no idea how much of a relief this is.” You rolled your eyes, you hadn’t allowed him to do anything, he’d just done it anyway. “I was so worried I got him into something that would hurt him even more. Women tend to really fuck him over.” 

His last statement puzzled you. Was he talking about Baekhyun’s ex? Sure what she did was awful, but had things really ended that badly? From the brief talk you’d had with him about her he didn’t seem to be that affected anymore but that was only one conversation. 

“Can I ask what the deal is with his ex?” Chanyeol leaned back, crossing his arms. His brows were furrowed, looking agitated by your question. “Sorry if that’s too far but I feel like that’s kind of important and I know almost nothing about her.” 

“She’s fucking bitch is all you need to know.” He scoffed. “They were together for 4 years and the whole time she treated him like a doormat. I never liked her. But it’s not really my place to talk.” 

“Oh... Sorry for asking, It’s just I found some pictures on Facebook when I looked him up. They looked really happy, she’s really pretty too.” You felt slightly embarrassed at your own words, but the curiosity was killing you. 

“Sure she looks nice but she’s a goddamn demon on the inside and they definitely weren’t happy, although she loved to make it look like they were so their families would keep being supportive. He deserves someone who actually gives a shit about him as a person, and not just what he can offer them. He cares about the people around him too much sometimes. Even when she’d treat him like shit he’d make excuses for her, saying she was dealing with things too, or some other bullshit.” 

Your heart ached. “Was he really upset when she left?”

You heard him let out a disappointed sigh, and knew the answer was yes. “Of course he knew she was only trying to use him for his money at that point, he’s not stupid, but when you’ve spent years of your life trying to make something work it still sucks when it ends. His parents really liked her too, they would get onto him all the time about why he hadn’t married her yet or given them grandkids. Thank god he didn’t. I think that’s what made it really sting when she left though. She didn’t just betray him she betrayed them too.” 

“What a bitch...” You were in disbelief that anyone could treat someone as wonderful as him so cruelly. The idea of him having possibly married her made you feel sick all over again.

“Yeah, she’s pretty much a megacunt. Thank god you seem to have a conscience.” He joked.

“I’m not gonna hurt him if I can help it. He’s so sweet I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I did.” 

“Well I’m glad to hear it.” He gave you a deep-dimpled smile and you laughed. “I’ll leave you alone now, I have work to get to, but thank you again for talking to me.”

“No problem.” You smiled back. “Hopefully you like me better than her already.” You joked. 

“That doesn’t take much” he laughed “but yes, definitely.” He got up and waved you goodbye, leaving you to enjoy the rest of your breakfast. 

In the end you were glad you’d run into him. You hadn’t given much thought to what Baekhyun’s friends might think about you, but it was a relief that the person closest to him didn’t just think you were using him for his money anymore. Obviously everything about your relationship with Baekhyun looked terrible on paper, and being able to explain your intentions made it feel like there was weight lifted off your chest that you hadn’t even known was there. 

~

Baekhyun woke up to his phone blowing up with messages from Chanyeol. Unlike you, he’d slept like a baby once the excitement of the evening had worn off a bit. 

Chanyeol: (7:23am) Just got done talking to your new gf, you seemed to have a fun night. About time you finally made a move on her.   

Chanyeol: (7:46am) You better call me when you wake up and tell me what the hell went down though. 

Chanyeol: (8:37am) Dude you’re killing me 

Baekhyun groaned when he read the messages, mind immediately thinking about all the embarrassing things Chanyeol could’ve possibly told you. Of course he talked to his best friend about you all the time, but you didn’t need to know that. His hands felt clammy as he began typing out a response

Baekhyun: (9:04am) What the hell did you guys talk about??? 

Chanyeol: (9:06am) She didn’t need to say much, you made things pretty clear with the way you attacked her neck, that shit looked intense. Good for you bro. 

Baekhyun quickly dialed his friend’s number, and not even one ring in he picked up. 

“What the fuck?” Baekhyun started, a bit too loud for how early it still was. “Why were you talking to her? What did you say to her? I swear to god if you told her some dumb shit I’m gonna-” 

“Relax! You know I’m a good wingman! I ran into her at the café and just wanted to make sure she wasn’t still leading you on for the money or anything so we talked for a little while. But she seems to genuinely care about you, I think she likes you a lot actually.” 

Baekhyun felt his heart skip a beat at his friend’s statement. Of course he figured you liked him after what had happened in his office, especially since you’d said it to him directly, but the fact that you had discussed your feelings for him with his best friend made it feel even better. He still thought that maybe you’d regret it in the morning, or it was just hormones that led you to act the way you did.

“What did she say?” 

“Well at first I thought she’d let someone else mark her up like that so I called her out, but then she told me what happened in your office last night. Well, sort of.” 

“Sort of?” 

“She didn’t seem to really want to talk about it in detail so I didn’t make her, but any girl would have to be crazy about a guy to him them maul their neck like that. I thought y’all had gotten into some weird BDSM shit at first. And why the fuck did you kick the poor girl out of your office? Are you dumb? You were totally about to get some.” 

“Because we were in my office.” 

“So? That’s pretty hot if you ask me.” 

“I just... I like her too much to end up fucking on the desk in my office like some sort of horny animal. I need to do it right, she deserves that much.” 

“That’s up to you, but man you must have some serious self control. She’s really hot.” 

“Watch it buddy.” Baekhyun said, trying to sound as threatening as one can over the phone. “What else did she tell you?”

“That was pretty much it about last night, she did ask about Jisoo though. I’m telling you she’s into you if she wants to know about your ex.” 

Even just the mention of her was enough to sour Baekhyun’s good mood. 

“What did you tell her about her?” 

“That I think she’s a massive bitch, obviously. And that you deserve better than that.”

Baekhyun stayed silent. He knew Chanyeol was right of course, she wasn’t a good person and he was better off now without her in his life but the way he talked about her still bothered him. 

“You don’t have to call her a bitch every time she comes up, I know she’s far from perfect but she’s still a person you know.” 

“Why are you even defending her? She fucked you up. And you actually seem to have found a girl who isn’t going to step all over you this time. So don’t ruin it.” 

“I’m not going to. Or at least I’m gonna try my best. I like this girl a lot.” 

“I know, you never shut the hell up about her. And she likes you enough to be stressing about your ex, so relax. She’s into you.” 

A small smile pulled at Baekhyun’s lips. After all this time, you really did like him. How fucking cool was that? The hottest girl at the strip club, who he’d fallen head over heels for like some dumb kid, was into him for real now. 

“Thanks bro, I needed to hear that.” 

“I know, I’m the best. So when are you asking her out?” 

Baekhyun felt stupid for not having considered that yet. Technically he was still just your professor/customer with benefits, but that definitely wasn’t the title he wanted to keep forever. 

“Shit I don’t know... Where do I even take her? What do I do? I haven’t had to do this in years.” 

“She’s a college student, I’m sure a nice dinner would impress her enough. You just have to do better than those greasy kids she goes to school with.” Chanyeol suggested casually, but Baekhyun wasn’t having it. 

“I want to do something special, not just some lame dinner. I’m sure she’s had plenty of college boys take her out to expensive restaurants with daddy’s money before. I have to do better than that.”  He was pacing now, trying to think of what the hell people even did for first dates aside from get food or see a movie. 

“Do something different then, drive her out into the country and prepare a nice picnic or something and watch the sunset together, girls love romantic shit like that.” 

“First I have to ask her out though, maybe I should bring some chocolate and flowers too. I want it to be perfect. And for her to say yes.”

“I know you’ll do great, don’t worry about it too much, she already likes you anyway. She’s gonna say yes. Just don’t say anything weird and she’ll totally fall in love with you.”

“I hope you’re right.” 

“I’m always right.”

It was getting later and later in the morning and Baekhyun needed to actually start getting work done, so he ended the call there. 

He had come up with some ideas for the date throughout the day, but they would all require quite some planning. He was going to do whatever he could to make sure you were thoroughly swept off your feet, he wouldn’t accept anything less than that. 

First though, he had to make sure you’d agree to go at all. 

~

The rest of your Thursday was spent more or less successfully getting Baekhyun off your mind with various school work and other mundane tasks. You’d stayed on campus, still avoiding Mia but eventually your classes were over and you needed to get back home. You knew you’d have to face her eventually anyway and at least now you’d had enough time to chill out about it a little.

Unfortunately for you Mia was in the living room when you entered the apartment, and within seconds her eyes traveled to your neck and she squealed with delight. 

“Y/N!!! PLEASE TELL ME YOU FINALLY GOT SOME DICK.” 

“Sorry to disappoint.” You responded, cringing and taking your shoes before going to sit with her on the couch. 

“But something happened! Tell me everything!!”    

So you did. Right down to his dick stabbing you through his pants and how he kicked you out of his office. Unlike Chanyeol, you knew she wouldn’t leave you alone until she knew everything, and in great detail, so you didn’t hold back. 

You felt all the emotions from the previous night rushed back to you as you got into the intricacies of the kiss itself. This was exactly what you knew would happen, and why you’d been avoiding it. The whole time Mia just stared and nodded, seemingly fascinated by your thrilling tale. You were thankful she hadn’t made fun of you at all for how flustered you were getting while talking about it. 

When you were finally done retelling everything, she didn’t speak. Instead she pulled you into a tight hug. 

“You like him a lot, I can tell. And he has a lot of respect for you if he had enough self control to make you leave before more could happen. I think he could be really great for you.” She pulled back to look at you, keeping both hands on your shoulders. “And I’ve never heard you talk about a guy like that before.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone the way I like him. He’s not some college boy, he’s a real man. It just feels different. Much more... real.” 

“Do you want something real with him? More than just a fling?” You nodded. “Do you think he’ll ask you out on a real date?” 

“I hope so.” 

“I hope so too. I’m sure he’ll come up with something amazing for you guys.” She smiled, lightly punching your shoulder in excitement. 

You felt elated to finally have gotten everything off your chest. Talking about it really hadn’t been that bad, if anything it only strengthened how you felt for him.

“I’m really lucky, aren’t I?” You asked, letting yourself fall backwards to lay across the couch. 

“Duh. You found a super cute, nice, and rich guy who thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread. Any girl would envy you.” Her eyes went wide, and you could practically see the lightbulb manifest itself and flicker on over her head. “He has hot friends right?” 

You laughed, amused by her usual boy craziness. “Yeah, he has some pretty cute friends but I don’t really know any of them, give me some time and I’ll report back to you if any of them are available.” 

For some reason, you didn’t tell her about your conversation with Chanyeol. Maybe it was what he’d said about Baekhyun’s ex that was still hanging in the back of your mind, but it didn’t seem like something you needed to bring up to her now anyways. 

“Well, please do let me know.” She responded, grinning, getting up from the couch and making her way into the kitchen. 

“Aye aye captain.” You shot a thumbs up at her from the couch, giggling. 

She ended up cooking dinner for the both of you, and you spent the rest of the evening collectively fantasizing about what sort of extravagant outing he’d take you on once he asked you on an official date. 

You couldn’t wait.  

Next Chapter

A/N: Just wanna say I love Jisoo and used her name purely to convey the characters appearance! She in no way represents the real Jisoo who is obviously a wonderful girl :)  also if the spacing is weird on mobile I blame the fact that I wrote this on my laptop 🥴 sorry

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I'm No Good - four

First Day

Warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of sex

[photo of Tallulah and Lina]

don't call me kid, don't call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

Tallulah was the first one awake in the morning, the sunrise just peeking through her blinds as she laid in bed on her side, staring at the wall. She struggled to get back to sleep and tossed and turned, feeling an uncomfortable pit in her stomach that she decided had something to do with it being her first day at La Push Tribal School.

Starting a new school in the second semester of her senior year did not bother her as much as it should have, what concerned her more was that she was walking into a school that never gets new students, let alone mid semester. All eyes were going to be on her, and she was sure that some of them had already conjured up their own preconceived notions of her. Oh the joys of small town gossip, she thought to herself as she climbed out of bed, grabbing her clothes for the day. She told herself that making friends was not a must here, because as soon as she graduates she will be back in Seattle with her old, real friends, living the life that she wants to live. She could let herself be picky, or else she’ll end up with a Josie, who seems trustworthy on the outside, but isn’t in the end. Tallulah rolled her eyes at the thought itself, if that's how she wants to be then so be it.

Tallulah quickly changed into her black tank and oversized flannel shirt, before pulling on her jeans, she tried to tame her hair without ruining her natural waves into a frizzy mess. She wasn't one for much makeup, especially not for school considering the frequent rain on pacific northwest.

Rushing downstairs to the kitchen, the uncomfortable pit curbing her appetite, Tallulah settled on just coffee, as she poured it into her mug she had grabbed from the cupboard, she heard footsteps entering the kitchen. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Lenna out of the corner of her eye, all dolled up as if she were going to Paris Fashion Week.

“I heard about what Josie did.” Lenna stated as she searched through the fridge, “you’ll get used to it.” This made Tallulah scoff audibly, “get used to being thrown under the bus for doing absolutely nothing wrong beside talking to some guy I’ve never even met before yesterday?” she asked sarcastically, turning to face her younger sister, mug in hand. “No, well, yes. It just means she did something she doesn’t want to get in trouble for, so she throws gasoline on someone else's fire to make it seem bigger than the one she started.” She keeps her eye on the tall, raven-haired girl as she closes the door, “She means well Tally.” I bet, she thought to herself. Maybe this is what sisters do, and she's the one that's being unreasonable. To be fair, she's never had to deal with someone snitching right in front of her face to her mother. At least she had the guts to do it at the dinner table.

She watched as Lenna looked over her outfit, making a face that Tallulah couldn’t quite comprehend, “is there something wrong with my outfit?” she asked, eyebrows raised in challenge. Lenna shook her head, “Nope, not at all. Between that, the tattoos and the nicotine addiction, I’d say you’ll fit right in with a few groups at school. I can point them out if you’d like, I heard dad tossed your vape maybe you can snag one today.” Tallulah shook her head before taking a sip of her cooling coffee, “I can make my own friends, and I’m not addicted” she fought the urge to roll her eyes again as their dad walked into the kitchen, clearly dressed for work. “Tally, Lenny, ready for school? Dakota picked up your sister already this morning, something about a project that's not finished yet” the short laugh that came from Lenna did not go unnoticed by Tallulah, but she said nothing, nodding her head at her fathers question. “I have to go to a tribal meeting tonight with Kira, so it’s going to be pizza for dinner, Lenny can pick it up on her way home from work, right Len?” he asked as he filled his to-go mug with coffee, even though he really wasn't asking, “Tal,” he said, looking directly at his eldest daughter, “I know this has been a big change in just a few days, but you’re doing great kid, but let's keep those rules in mind when making friends today,” clearly referring to something she has no clue about. “So, you mean I can’t skip school and sneak Paul through my window while you’re gone?” she joked half heartedly. She had no intention of ever speaking to him today, but seeing the looks on Lenna and their dad's face was probably the best start to her day she was going to get. She finished off her coffee and placed her mug in the sink, grabbing her book bag from the counter and heading to the front door, yelling ‘kidding!’ over her shoulder as she left, while her dad yelled ‘have fun!’ right back at her.

Tallulah drove in silence to the school, following the directions Josie had shown her during their day out, for once wanting to be early. She wanted to scope out all her classrooms beforehand to minimize the amount of interaction she would have to have with anyone in order to just keep her head down and float by as unnoticed as she could.

As she pulled into the small parking lot there were very few students and teachers mulling around. The school itself was small, only two stories, with a few portables that were quite run down. Nothing like her old school of 5000 students, every hallway crowded and parking lot full every day.

Tallulah parked her car and pulled out her phone from her pocket, checking the few messages she had, despite it only being 8 in the morning. One message was from her mom, wishing her well on her first day, telling her she had shipped the rest of her personal belongings that she may want or need and that she loved her. Tallulah rolled her eyes, she loved her so much she didn’t want to deal with her anymore. She checked some more of her messages and replied to those that warranted them only stopping as the incoming call notification lit up her screen.

A photo of Lina, her best friend, and her graced the screen, she quickly hit accept before placing the phone to her ear, breathing out a quickie ‘hello’. The two haven’t been able to have a conversation in days to discuss the tragedy that had unfolded the night her mom caught her sneaking into her bedroom, the dramatic gasp on the other line made her smile, “You picked up!” Lina all but shouted excitedly, before saying to someone else ‘told you she would’, clearly she wasn’t alone. “Of course I did, Li. Just because I've been shipped off to the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean I dropped out of school.” she said looking at the tiny building, that more students were now filing into. “Besides, I always answer your calls.” she stated, which made Lina laugh into the phone, “Right, right. Well I was just calling to see how you were, Kits here too.” she said and she could hear Kit bid a hello in the background, “and we wanted to invite you to this party that's happening at some club in Port Angeles next Friday. We figured it would give you some time to ask your dad if you can come or plan an escape. He can’t keep you from us forever.” she rambled, clearly excited.

She knew what club she was talking about, they had been planning on going once they had all turned 18. As exciting as it sounded, she knew her dad would never go for it, and sneaking out to Port Angeles and back would be next to impossible. “I don’t know about that, Li, but I'll try. I’m sure I could convince him to let you guys come out here if he doesn’t budge?” she asked absentmindedly, hoping she’d take the bait. Tallulah listened as Lina talked to someone away from the speaker before hearing the phone be passed to someone new, she furrowed her brows at the silence before the new speaker breathed out, “Luie.”

Xander.

The only person on planet earth who was allowed to call her ‘Luie’. The nickname started with him and ended with him. She hated the nickname when he had first started using it, he would say it in such a condescending way. Like he was reprimanding a child, but it grew on her as her relationship with him developed. They had never dated, but everyone assumed they were with how touchy-feely they were with each other. But, they both hated commitment, saying that it was the root of all sadness, and they had enough of that in their life already. As if that stopped them from hurting each other anyways. Xander was all of her firsts, first friend, first kiss, first time drinking alcohol with him, first cigarette, first time sneaking out, and first hookup. It's why she always went back to him after a fight, no matter how bad it was, all her good memories are tied to him.

“Hey, Xan” she said softly, “Are you coming to Port Angeles for the party?” he asked in a nonchalant tone, knowing she could never say no to him. “I want to..” she started, “But no promises. My dads a lot stricter compared to my mom.” Tallulah heard him grunt in acknowledgment. He wasn’t going to beg, or plead her to come like Kit or Lina would, he knew he didn’t have to. “Well, let us know, ya?” he stated, voices in the background signaled that they were most likely getting ready to take the train to school, like she would be in normal circumstances. “Oh, and Luie, have a don’t do anything I wouldn’t do on your first day.” she could practically hear the grin that she knew he had before the line went dead, he wasn’t much for formal goodbyes.

Sighing, she shoved her phone in her pocket before exiting her car, grabbing her bag off of the passenger seat and slinging it over her shoulder. She made sure to lock the car before placing her keys in her bag and grabbing her timetable as she walked towards the entrance of the school. She was too busy trying to figure out what classroom she needed to head to first that she wasn’t paying any attention to any of her surroundings. Hence why she walked head on into someone, dropping the white sheet of paper in the process. Hot hands steadying her by the arms. It felt as if she had walked straight into a brick wall, she would’ve laughed it off if it wasn’t the root of all her problems so far in La Push.

“Are you stalking me?” she asked the older man, everywhere she went, there he was. Paul shook his head with a chuckle, causing the teen to glare up at him. “Well aren’t you a little too old to be hanging around a high school?” she questioned, arms crossing over her body as the heat from his hands had made her realize just how cold it was outside once they were off of her. “Relax, I was just dropping someone off.” he stated, his voice was deeper than it was the day before, like he had just woken up. She averted her eyes from him as she could feel the blush heat to her face at how silly she must have sounded. Of course that's why he's here. She hadn’t realized he had picked up her schedule for her until he read out a name from it, “First period: Miss. Young.You’ll like her, everyone does.” he said while handing her back the slip. She nodded her head, “right, well i should go find her class then.” she mumbled as she took a step back from him, he responded by giving her the directions to the class, which made her want to question how he knew that but Tallulah wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer, so instead, she thanked him and walked away heading towards the front doors, each step closer she filled more and more with dread, wanting to turn around and get in her car and drive away as far as she could.

She turned back to where she had left Paul standing to see him still there, only now he was talking on the phone. His whole demeanor had changed, he looked rigid and frustrated. Before she turned to completely walk through the doors, he caught her eye and gave her a small smile, the feeling of dread dissipating in that moment as she entered her new school.

[thenovelartist]

Burned Beginnings, Chapter 6

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16. Sunrise

Warm. That’s all that registered in Adrien’s mind as consciousness slowly came back to him. He groaned, snuggling his pillow tighter to cling to that warmth and comfort. He didn’t want to get up.

However, as his mind continued booting up, something began to strike him as odd. Something was off, but the last thing he wanted to do was open his eyes to figure out what that was.

However, that feeling grew too strong to ignore and—oh…

He wasn’t cuddling a pillow.

Feeling like he’d just been splashed with ice water, Adrien was awake now, and his mind was in overdrive as he recalled last night. Marinette had been crying, and Adrien just didn’t want to leave her alone, even when her tears had stopped. So he’d encouraged her to settle beside him on the bed while he pulled up a light and sweet anime to enjoy. He figured she’d like this one with a sassy and spunky main girl, and Marinette had.

For the two episodes she’d managed to stay awake for.

Adrien had considered moving her, but it was a little more difficult when she was practically laying on top of him. That, and he hadn’t really wanted to move her.

Call him selfish, but he’d chosen to settle down beside her and hold her close. Her eyes had cracked open, but Adrien could see the haze of sleep clouding them.

“Do you want me to go?” he’d asked.

She’d closed her eyes and grabbed his shirt. “Stay.”

He was such a goner.

In the end, Adrien found it all too easy to fall asleep next to her. Which was how he found himself in this position now.

It wasn’t a bad position, he thought, but maybe it was time to move. Marinette trusted him, and he may have taken advantage of that last night by using any excuse he could find to stay by her instead of doing the responsible thing of waking her or moving her to her room. Or maybe it would have been better to let her stay in his bed while dug around for her room key and went to sleep in her hotel room.

But it was too late to think of that now. Instead, he tried his best to disentangle himself from Marinette, who also had her arms wrapped around him as he had had his around her.

Halfway out of her embrace, Marinette whined and stirred. Adrien froze, hoping she’d just go back to sleep. Her parents had made an off comment that she was a heavy sleeper, so he was banking on that. And thankfully, she seemed to relax again.

Carefully, he began to pull her arms away from his waist.

“Adrien?”

He grimaced. Apparently, he had woken her. “Sorry,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

She settled back into her bed, tucking her arms close. “I fell asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” she murmured. She reached up to rub her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Um…” Adrien looked at the dim clock on the night stand. He had to blink a couple times to get his blurry vision to focus, and only then did he realize that the lingering soreness in his eyes were because he’d fallen asleep in his contact lenes. “Morning, sometime,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t see the clock at the moment.”

At that, Marinette took her hands away from her eyes. “What?”

“My contact lenes get all dry if I sleep in them,” he said, already making his way to the bathroom. “Give me a second to get my glasses.”

After relieving the pain by taking out his lenses and replacing them with glasses, Adrien walked out of the bathroom to see Marinette was already up and had opened the window. The gray morning light of early dawn was beginning to hang over the city.

“Sorry,” Marinette said, not moving her gaze from the window.

“For what?”

“Falling asleep in your bed.”

“You were exhausted and had a long day,” Adrien dismissed. “It was my fault for not waking you up or moving to go sleep in your room instead.”

“It’s fine,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “Honestly I… I liked having you there with me. Last night.” She turned to him, the faintest glow of pink already highlighting her lovely face as she smiled at him. “Thanks for indulging me.”

He gave her a smile in return and hoped it didn’t show all the feelings he held in his heart towards her. “You’re my best friend, Marinette,” he said. “If you ever need anything, I’ll be there for you.”

For a moment, they just stood side by side and watched the sunrise. It was nice, this quiet time with her. And while he of course enjoyed their banter, he cherished this quiet time with her, too. She was an amazing lady, and he was always glad to spend time with her, no matter in what capacity.

“Hey,” Marinette began, reaching out to gently elbow him in the side. “What do you want to do today?”

Adrien’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “Aren’t we going to the convention?”

“No,” she dismissed with an easy smile and shake of her head. “I… I know you set up this trip for me, so of course I want to make the most of it. But you’re miserable, and don’t try to tell me otherwise.”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I didn’t know I was making it obvious.”

“You weren’t. In fact, you’re really good at hiding it. I just know you too well, by now.”

He felt a warm feeling wash over him. He tried to think of the last time anyone had ever called him out on his acting skills and couldn’t think of anything recent. Maybe people noticed but never commented, but Marinette was different. Because of course she was. No one could reach the level of importance that Marinette had reached, which made her all the more valuable to him. “But don’t you want to enjoy the rest of the week as much as you can? This is kinda a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

She shook her head. “If this trip really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, then I won’t be able to enjoy it to the fullest if you are nothing but miserable the whole time. So forget fashion week. I’ve already gotten my fill of it. What do you want to do, Adrien?”

Adrien looked at her, taking in the way her eyes glittered in the increasingly strong orange glow radiating through the window. Once again, Adrien was reminded why he loved this woman. She was wicked sharp and smoking hot and a total tease, but once you got past that, she was the most earnest, loyal, and caring person he’d ever known in his life. And knowing she didn’t give those parts of herself out lightly meant all the more to him.

“Honestly,” he finally admitted, not looking away from her gaze. “I’m good with anything you want to do.”

She deflated frustratedly. “That doesn’t help.”

An easy smile picked up the edges of his lips as he shrugged. “Honest truth. I’ve been here enough times to not care about the city personally. But I care about being with you if I’m going to be here.”

With a breath, he bolstered up his courage. If she could make a solid decision about her future, then he could stop being such a coward. “Honestly, doesn’t matter where we are,” he said, the words pouring from his venerable heart. “Been all around the world, and the place I feel most comfortable is at your side. So to me, it really doesn’t matter to me where we go, long as we go together.”

He could feel the tension that suddenly sparked between them. It was only after he said that that he realized maybe he should have waited until after the trip. Because now, if she said no—

“Adrien.”

Damn it, here it comes. Stay strong. “Yeah?”

“Remember how you owe me a dare?”

He nodded, hoping he hid his grimace. “Yeah, I remember. Doubt you’d ever let me forget.”

“I’d like to cash it in now.”

Adrien raised a brow, his heart beating nervously. “Do I get a moment to prepare for it?” he asked, teasing lit to his tone as he gave her a nervous grin.

She chuckled, giving him a smirk that didn’t have half the devilishness in it as it usually did. “What fun would that be?”

He did his best to play it off with a sigh. “Fine. Dare.”

Marinette took a breath, almost like she was steadying herself. “I dare you,” she began, her expression a fragile mask of strength. “To confess to the girl you like.”

Adrien’s heart plummeted in his chest, knocking the air right out of him, and his guts tightened into more knots than he’d ever felt before. But that immense panic only lasted for a moment as his mind started working. The girl he liked. Did… did she…?

A little bud of hope blooming in his chest, he took a step forward. “Marinette.” His voice was shaking, along with his hands.

She never once took her eyes off him, and because of that, he could see her fragile mask shake. She was scared. And he was, too.

But she’d made the first move, and he wasn’t going to let her fall without catching her.

“I love you.”

She gasped, her eyes widening slightly for a second.

Emboldened, Adrien reached out to wrap his arms loosely around her waist. “You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You’re a spitfire and a tease and so strong and sharp and beautiful, and I really enjoy all the time we’re together. And I’d like that to continue for… for what I hope is a very long time.” He paused, taking a moment to collect his breath so he could finish. “So, Marinette, I love you. Would you please be my girlfriend?”

The joy that lit up her expression brighter than the sunrise outside already gave him her answer. And he felt like he could fly over the moon with the energy that gave him.

She flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. It only took a millisecond for Adrien to return the favor, pulling her so close that he lifted her feet off the ground.

“I love you, too,” Marinette whispered back. “Yes, I will be your girlfriend.”

The smile on Adrien’s face could not possibly stretch any wider. All words failed him at that moment, so he settled for continuing to hold her, slowly setting her feet back on the ground.

As their embrace loosened, Marinette seemed to pause before she got too far away, placing her face just inches from his. The heady feeling that washed over Adrien was either from the proximity or his rapid breath. Maybe both. But instead of deciding which was the most likely option, he leaned in, his nose brushing against hers and sending sparks flying through him.

She didn’t move away. If anything, she responded by leaning closer, her nose now rubbing his cheek. And that was all the invitation Adrien needed to finish what he’d started and press his lips to hers.

Over and over and over again.

 17. Text Messages

To say Marinette was over the moon might be an understatement.

She just felt all fluttery, and she didn’t know how much of it was from Adrien’s confession and how much of it was from the menagerie of kisses he’d given her that left her reeling.

Either way, she was happy. Thankful, and happy. Adrien was an amazing man who could easily toss back any teasing, make her smile, take her mind off her worries, and bring her peace. And just like he’d expressed, she also just loved being with him, whether that be running a bakery shift together, watching anime, or walking around New York. It didn’t matter to her.

At the moment, she was getting ready for their outing. She found herself wanting to put a little extra effort into her appearance today. It wasn’t like she was unconfident in her appearance around him—after all, they worked together in a bakery and were often covered in food and sweat and occasionally soot if they were cleaning out the oven or if it was running extra hot, and never once did she worry her about either of their appearances—but today marked their first day as a couple, and she wanted to look nice for him.

As she was putting on her eyeliner, her phone dinged with a text. Once she finished with the make-up in her hand, she reached for her phone, thinking it was her parents checking in. They hadn’t yesterday or today and was wondering when they’d contact her.

But it wasn’t them. It was Adrien.

I don’t know what to wear on my first date with this amazing girl! Help me!

She scoffed, unable to keep the smile of her face. This dork. Clown shoes. She texted back. You gotta warn her who you are way ahead of time ;)

Oh, I’m hurt! He responded. For the record she loves my jokes.

She sniggered. That’s debatable.

It’s true! You should see the smile she gets. Cutest thing ever and she thinks I don’t catch it when she hides it.

She bit her lip before remembering she didn’t want to smudge her lipstick. You’re seeing things.

If you mean I’m seeing this smoking hot young lady, then yes, I am. I’m one lucky guy. ;)

Grinning like an idiot, she was rendered speechless for a moment, racking her brain for a retort. Well, the lucky lady in question can’t complete her make-up if her date continues texting her.

Why bother? I’m planning on ruining it anyway ;)

She let out a squeak as she dropped her phone. Her eyes met her reflection in the mirror, proving that while she was now red, she was grinning incredulously at her idiot boyfriend.

Her phone dinged again. See? Just helped you with your blush ;)

She as going to dump his sorry butt by the day’s end if he kept this up.

And then probably regret it tomorrow and kiss him until he got back together with her, but she ignored that for now.

Her phone dinged again. Princess?

She ignored the incoming text messages as she finished her make-up, then put her hair into a half-updo that he might just ruin later along with her make-up, but she was completely okay with that.

When she finished, she noticed Adrien had sent her a couple more messages of Did I go too far? before ending with a I’m going to assume you really are just finishing your make-up, but please text when you’re finished.

She sighed, small smile on her lips. She should really just go put that poor boy out of his misery.

She opened the door, only to spot Adrien exiting his room as well.

“I’m not mad at you,” she assured. “That was kinda funny, actually.”

He visibly relaxed, and Marinette could ease up, too, assured that he knew he hadn’t crossed the unspoken teasing line. It was amazing how much facial expressions and tone made a difference in a conversation.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I’m a bit wound up.”

“Why? It’s just me.”

Adrien huffed. “Marinette, I don’t know if you know this, but ‘just you’ is a pretty stellar person. I count myself a really lucky guy, so the last thing I want to do is screw this up.”

Marinette grinned. “Well, it’s ‘just you’, so I know you won’t. Because ‘just you’ is a pretty stellar person, too.”

 18. First Date

Kissing his best friend was not at all how he expected to start his day. But it was a pretty amazing way to kick off a morning.

And now, his best friend was his girlfriend and he had the honor of playing tour guide around New York City. They hit all the tacky tourist spots, took plenty of photos, had great food, and bought souvenirs. For a first date, it wasn’t too bad.

Oh, who was he kidding? It was amazing. But it had nothing to do with the setting and everything to do with the fact he was with her. Being around Marinette was his greatest joy in life. She grounded him and brightened his day and supported him in ways that no one else had been able to do before. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, but he could already see standing by her side for the rest of their lives.

“You look better today,” Marinette spoke up from his side.

He looked down at her, a little confused. “What do you mean?” he asked, shooting her a smirk and wink. “I always look good.”

She giggled. “Not what I meant. I meant that you don’t look miserable today. Like you’re actually enjoying yourself.”

Those words helped him relax a bit, and he tightened the grip he had on her hand. “I’m just really, really happy.”

Marinette squeezed his hand back, giving him a smile that was going to knock him to his knees. Geez, he had to be careful around this woman. “I am, too,” she whispered back.

He was shocked he didn’t trip because his heart sure did.

“I noticed this a while ago,” she eventually said, “But you’re not wearing your earrings anymore.”

“Oh, yeah. That.” He shrugged. “I guess I just got tired of them. Before we came on this trip, I looked at them again and realized that I only got them to piss off my dad. I didn’t care one way or another. And I guess… I was tired of wearing something that only reminded me that my dad was an asshole. Why? Did you like them?”

She shrugged. “You look good either way. But if that’s your reason, then I also like you better without them, then.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I like the Adrien that can reflect on himself and decide to not let others shape his appearance. Maturity is more attractive than any physical attributes, in my opinion.”

Adrien would forever blame a crack in the pavement for the way he stumbled, nearly pulling Marinette to the ground with him.

“You okay?” she asked once he’d regained his balance.

No, he was not okay. He was certain his face was red, and his heart was going a hundred kilometers an hour. “Um… yeah.”

She didn’t look convinced but didn’t argue.

A comfortable silence slipped between them as they walked back to the hotel, the sun sinking lower in the sky as the day came to an end.

“Hey,” Adrien eventually said, giving voice to the thought that wouldn’t leave his head. “Did… did you really mean what you said about liking maturity over my looks?”

Marinette looked up at him, meeting his gaze. She gave him a soft smile. “Yeah. I’ve never really got caught up in people’s looks. I never understood the teenage girl games of ‘is he hot or not’ or whatever that was. And while I can say that I do think you’re handsome, your looks didn’t play any role in my falling for you.”

“O-oh?” He inwardly kicked himself. He couldn’t even string together a full sentence. How intelligent.

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “What? I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. Right? You’ve got plenty of amazing attributes that have nothing to do with how you so happen to look.”

Adrien stopped, tugging her hand and causing her to spin her around to face him. “Actually, it is a big deal,” he began, watching her grow nervous. He gently squeezed her hand taking a step forward to get closer. “Because as a model for many years, I’ve been surrounded by people who only care about my appearance. And suddenly, I’m with my dream girl, and I find out that the one thing I was valued for for so long doesn’t matter to her. And… and it’s weird because it feels great to know you like me for other reasons, but I also somehow feel gypped a little bit.”

Marinette relaxed, and a sympathetic smile came across her lips. “For the record, I do think you’re handsome,” she assured. “But I also think you’re hard-working and reliable and trustworthy and kind. And I like being with you as a person. I can trust you. I feel safe with you. And that means the world to me.”

Adrien could feel his heart melting. He loved this woman so much that this was only their first date and he was already a total goner. However, if he was being honest with himself, he’d fallen for her long ago. He counted himself so very lucky for that.

He also counted himself lucky that he seemed to be just what she needed, just as she was what he needed. If he had his way, he was going to be with this woman forever. And he was determined to make that happen.

[sweetdreamling]

assholes - ( gen avengers )

Summary: Your friends can be such assholes sometimes.

Pairing: Hints at Reader x Loki, but nothing serious.

WC: 2.3K

A/N: This is a super old one shot. Originally it was just Rhodey and Tony, but I just rewrote it and added more characters. I'm back in my marvel writing feels. Since I'm a POC myself, I mostly picture the reader like me. Though I go for gender-natural terms. Hope you like it.

"He's such a dumbass sometimes," you snicker, watching Thor try and fail to work the toaster. "But it's adorable. It's like watching a clueless golden retriever. Zero thoughts, head empty."

"That's rude, Y/N." Sam hides a smile as he walks over to Thor, helping him with his apparently "impossible" task.

"How long has Thor been on Earth now?"

Steve looks thoughtful for a moment before replying, "I think a couple of years. But, even I know how to work the toaster. I swear I've seen him use it before."

"Hmm, Loki did say Thor likes to pretend that he's a dumb blonde."

Steve rolls his eyes at the mention of Loki's name. "You're still talking to that maniac?"

You shrug, "duh, he's my friend, and sometimes you guys can be a little too much. He's my escape."

Steve raises an eyebrow as he slides a plate of chicken alfredo to you. "Why do I get the feeling you're sleeping with Loki?"

Throwing him a smirk as you picked up your fork. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not."

"I'd prefer the latter."

Sam shakes his head as he hears the conversation. "Please stop talking about him before he pops up. We don't need him to add to the chaos in the tower."

"Loki's always in the tower; you guys just don't know it."

Sam and Steve look alarmed as a grinning Thor takes a seat beside you. "Y/N is right. My brother tends to come at such odd hours, but he's in the tower daily with Y/N."

"Does Tony know this?" Steve demands.

"Oh yeah, he literally burst through my door with his suit the first time Loki appeared in the tower. We came to a compromise if you catch my drift."

Sam lets out a noise of disgust. "Okay, no. We don't want to hear about it. As a matter of fact, forget that we even brought Loki up."

Thor and Y/N share a laugh as Steve shakes his head.

The duo's laughs are cut off when Y/N's cellphone starts to ring. Everyone's confused, staring at the cellphone sitting on the counter.

It rings a few times before going quiet.

"I have no clue who'd be calling me at one am," Y/N says as the phone lights up again.

"I mean...shouldn't you answer it and see? Could be important." Steve replies.

"My parents are sleeping at this time of the night. Everyone else that's important to me is currently in the tower, Steve. I'm sure FRIDAY would let us know if anything's happened to them."

Sam snatches the phone off the counter, answering it mid-ring.

"Hello?"

"They're asking for you." He frowns before handing the phone to a confused Y/N.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you reached out, taking the phone and bringing it to your ear.

"Hello?" You questioned.

"Hello?" The unfamiliar, hushed, and husky voice rang out.

"Heard you were looking for me. Who is this?" You asked, exchanging glances with Steve, Thor, and Sam.

"Who is this?" The caller repeats your question.

"I mean, you're the one that called me. So what do you want, creep?"

The only thing you could hear from the other side of the phone was heavy breathing.

"Are you going to say anything besides breathe on the phone?" The person doesn't say anything, so you shrug, hanging up the phone.

"Who was it?" Steve asks.

"I don't have a freaking clue. All he did was breathe on the phone." You respond, going back to your dinner. There are a few minutes of silence before your phone starts ringing again. You shake your head at Bruce as he reaches for the phone again.

"Let it ring, probably the same idiot. He'll get tired eventually."

Ten minutes later, the four of you were at your wit's end. The ringing didn't stop.

"Y/N, I beg you to please answer your phone before I smash it to a thousand pieces." Thor bemoans as the phone goes off once again.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you snatch the phone back up. You placed the phone against your ear. "Hello?"

"Y/N, you know it's rude to hang up with someone. I thought you knew better than this."

You roll your eyes, "What do you want? You've called my phone nonstop for the past ten minutes!"

"I just want to talk Y/N! We can talk and become the best of friends."

"You're out of your goddamn mind. Do yourself and me a favor and stop calling my phone. I'm hanging up now." You snap, pulling the phone away from your ear.

"YOU HANG UP THIS PHONE BITCH, AND I'LL GUT YOU LIKE A FUCKING FISH!"

It was clear that Thor, Sam, and Steve heard his threat as alarmed expressions overtake their faces.

"Y/N, give me the phone," Steve says through gritted teeth.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE GIVE ROGERS THAT PHONE!"

You stare down at the phone in shock before anger takes over your expression. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?! I don't know who the hell you are or what the hell you want with me, but I'm telling you now to leave me the fuck alone! Come near me, and I'll be your last day alive!"

The creep begins to laugh over the phone. "Oh, Y/N....your petty little threats don't scare me. All I want to do is play a little game, and then I'll leave you alone. I promise!"

"Fuck no! Leave me the hell alone!"

The creep lets out a growl. "I want to play a game. A simple one, call it movie trivia. Answer it correctly; you and your little trio of morons will survive."

There's no warning as the lights go out, leaving the four of you in absolute darkness.

"Answer wrong; you die. Don't even bother calling for help. Your little friends and A.I. are all...out of commission."

All of you glance around and then at each other uneasily. "Don't even think about it. I'm watching your every move!"

Sam lets out a sigh. "This is a fucking nightmare."

"What the hell did you do to our teammates and FRIDAY?" Steve was gripping the counter, glaring at the phone that you'd placed on speakerphone.

"Don't worry about that. I can see you, Thor. Try summoning your precious hammer, and I slit Barton's throat!"

Thor looks disgruntled as he drops his hand. "Very well."

The creep chuckles, "That's more like it."

"I'll ask again, what the hell did you do to our teammates?!" Steve questions again.

"I can hear the desperation in your voice, Rogers. Don't worry, your pretty little heads, I haven't done anything so far. Their fates depend on you four. We win the game. and I'll let them go."

"We can't trust your word, man. We need proof." Sam says.

The creep hums, "That is true. Look for yourself."

A hologram of security footage pops up. "Say hello to your fellow avengers!"

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of your teammates, bound and gagged to chairs in a circle. Tony, Clint, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, and for some odd reason, Pepper was there as well. Clint and Tony were the only ones awakened and were frantically shaking their heads.

"You sonofabitch." Steve curse, running a hand over his face. "What do you want?"

"A simple game. Are you ready to play now?"

"YES! YES! We'll play your stupid ass game! Just don't hurt our teammates!" You say, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"That depends on how well you do with my trivia! Tell me Y/N. Do you like scary movies?"

"Yes."

The voice tutted. "Then you should be very good at this game then."

You take a deep breath, hoping your racing heart would calm down. It frightened you how easily someone snuck into the tower, basically kidnaping your teammates and holding them hostage.

"Question one, How many people does Jason kill in the first Friday the 13th film?"

You furrow your eyebrows, looking at Steve. He shrugs, looking hopeless. "I'm so sorry, but I haven't seen any horror films."

Sam snaps, making a zero with his hand. "He didn't do any killings in the first Friday the 13th movie!"

The creep hums, "who did the killing then?"

"His mother!"

"Bravo Y/N and Sam! "The voice praises the two of you.

"Question two, how many knives does Freddy Krueger have on his gloves?"

"Four. He has four!" Thor calls out.

"Yes! Good boy, Thor! It appears you aren't as stupid as I thought!" The voice laughs once again. "Next question...Which room does Dick Hallorann tell Danny to stay away from in The Shining?"

"I heard Tony mention sometimes once about room 237 as a joke. He said it came from a film called The Shining. Is that it?" Steve says.

"Is that a question or the answer, Rogers? And no, don't help him!" The voice yells as you go to tell Steve it was correct.

"I...It's the answer."

"CORRECT!" The creep gives a round of applause. "Now, last question, who is the Ghostface killer in Scream 4?"

Oh, shit, there was so much going on in the Scream series, you couldn't keep up. Besides the first two movies, you kind of gave up watching them.

The four of you were exchanging frightened and panicked looks when no one answered. You took a deep breath and said the hell with it.

"Roman Bridger!" You cried out. "It was him! Right?!"

There was silence on the other line before the creep said the words you dreaded, "Wrong answer Y/N."

The four of you were surprised when two cloaked figures appeared in front of your unconscious teammates. One head Tony's head up as the other slashes him viciously across the stomach.

"TONY!" All of you cried out as blood began pouring from his shirt, and Tony lets out muffled cries of pain, fighting against the ropes.

The two cloaked figures turned, waving at you mockingly.

"Are those Ghostface masks? We're really dealing with a fucking Ghostface copycat groupie?!" Sam says, bewildered.

"Come out and play with us!"

Your nails dig into the palm of your hands as you stare down the copycat Ghostface on the right. There was something familiar about them.

"You're going to pay for hurting our dear Anthony, you fool." Thor looks furious; the rage in his eyes was clear to see.

"You'll have to catch us first!" There was a slam of a door down the hall, and you all turn your heads in the direction.

"We were the only ones on this floor. No one knows we hang out here." Steve says, glaring down the darkened hall.

"You will need weapons Sam and Y/N. Steve and I will use our brute strength to defend ourselves. " Thor says, grabbing the skillet off the stove, handing it to you. He gives Sam the butcher knife Steve was using earlier.

You and Sam exchange glances, the message clear in your eyes. 'Did he forget we're both trained fighters and can defend ourselves weapons or not?'

Steve leads the way as you slowly creep down the dark hall. "I've got nothing-" A swift punch to the jaw cut off his words.

"HOLY SHIT! STEVE!" Sam calls out, rushing over.

"I'm fine, Sam. They came out of nowhere. They're on this floor somewhere. We've gotta look for them."

"Oh, there's no need to look for me. We're right here." Sam lets out a yelp, falling to the ground, clutching his side.

"Shit, guys were humans and can't really see that well in the dark. You're going to have to use your weird-ass super senses and find them." You say, fumbling around until you find Sam's outstretched hand. You help him sit up, leaning on you for support.

"Stop being a coward! Come out and face us!" Thor yells out.

"This shit feels like it's from a low-budget horror film," Sam mutters to himself.

You nod in agreement.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder and a voice whispering your name in, "Y/N..."

Letting out a yelp, you grab their hand, using all your strength to flip them over your shoulder.

"FUCK!" You didn't waste any time kicking the shit out of this asshole.

"YOU MESSED WITH THE WRONG AVENGER ASSHOLE!"

"Y/N! Y/N, IT'S ME! IT'S ME, SCOTT!" The cloaked figure shouts, reaching up and snatching his mask off. Scott's now bruised face stared up at you as the lights flickered back on.

You glanced up to see Thor holding Loki in a headlock and Steve scowling at Clint. Sam was frowning at Tony, who was smirking.

"There's no need to be all upset, brother. It was a mere prank; you know I've done far worse than this." Loki lets out a grunt as Thor tightens his grip.

"I recall the numerous times you've stabbed me, bitting and nearly gotten me killed. But, these are our human friends Loki, and they are far more..." Thor trails off, staring at Scott, who was holding his head.

"You guys are such fucking assholes. A prank is putting something funny and straightforward. This shit wasn't funny; it was fucking terrifying. We thought Tony had gotten stabbed! Our teammates had gotten kidnapped, and FRIDAY was harmed." Sam growls out, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

"This was out of line, guys. I'm disappointed." Steve's "I'm Disappointed In You" face and tone of voice were enough to ruin anyone's mood.

"There was no real harm done, guys. Lighten up," Tony tries to brush it off.

"No harm do-" You start before shaking your head. "No, I'm not saying anything. I've gotta go take my rage out in the training room, come on, guys." You motion for Thor, Steve, and Sam to follow you.

"We're going to prank them back, right?" Sam questions as you guys get into the elevator. '

"Oh, for sure."

[pregnant-piggy]

Summer Games - four

Blaise Zabini x reader

masterlist

warnings: no pronouns used for the reader, mentions of food

A/N: the final part! I had a lot of fun writing something so light and without much drama and I hope you all liked it too! One more thanks to @omgrachwrites​ for the writing challenge and congrats on your milestone again -xxx-

written for @omgrachwrites​​ writing challenge with the prompts: ‘I can’t have this argument with you again.’ ‘But—’ ‘No, I’m done.’ and ‘Sorry… your hair was in your face… thought  I should move it so I could see you better.’

word count: 4.0k

Small rays of sunshine were peeking through the cracks in the curtains, lighting up the room Blaise was lying in. He rubbed his hands over his face and let out a sigh.

He was excited for today, to finally hear what team had won the Summer Games, but he was also disappointed that this was the last day and he had gotten nowhere with you. It was just like it had been at Hogwarts—there was flirting and joking and catching the other staring, but neither of you had ever done something beyond that and Blaise was afraid there was nothing more to it.

Groaning he got up from his bed and with little eyes he searched for his clothes. Draco was still asleep in the bed next to Blaise’s and Blaise figured that he wouldn’t wake any time soon. Last night you had told your friends that they didn’t have to get up early and Blaise knew that Draco would take full advantage of that by not coming out of bed until absolutely necessary.

Blaise sneaked downstairs silently, trying not to wake anyone. He was sure that you were awake already, but he didn’t know if your grandparents were still sleeping and he didn’t want to wake them. However, when he stepped into the kitchen he found your grandfather sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hand, reading the papers.

‘Morning,’ he greeted Blaise and this one nodded back. ‘Sleep well?’

‘After Draco shut up, yeah,’ Blaise said.

‘He talks a lot?’

‘He whines a lot,’ Blaise huffed and then he shrugged. ‘You learn to tune it out after a few years.’

Your grandfather chuckled and looked up from his newspaper. He nodded to the backdoor with somewhat of a grin on his face. ‘y/n’s outside.’

‘Thanks.’ Blaise shot the man a smile and left through the door, stepping into the backyard of the house.

The garden was your grandfather’s terrain. It was full of flowers and plants everywhere, making it feel like you stepped into paradise when entering the place. Bees were circling above the brightest flowers, creating a little symphony with their buzzing. There was a small path through the plants that led to a little patio in the back of the garden, where you were sitting on a bench with a book in your hand.

You belonged in that paradise, Blaise realised. The green and flowers around you complemented you, making you even more beautiful than Blaise thought you could get. You looked so soft and delicate it made his heart sore and all he wanted was to look at you.

That, however, seemed a tad creepy to him, so instead he walked the little path and sat down next to you. You looked up from your book and smiled at him.

‘Look at you, awake so early in the morning,’ you laughed and closed your book.

‘What can I say? You’ve infected me,’ Blaise shrugged. ‘It’s your fault, really.’

‘No, I think that subconsciously you just wanted to spend time with me,’ you said, pricking Blaise in his chest with your finger.

‘Of course, and it has nothing to do with Draco’s weird snoring at all,’ Blaise said sarcastically and you rolled your eyes, giving him a little shove. ‘Don’t roll your eyes at me!’ he cried. ‘It’s really annoying!’

Blaise brought his mouth to your ear and started to make snoring noises. You shivered at the weird feeling and tried to get away but Blaise wrapped his arms around you and held you close. Goose bumps formed on your arms and the more you tried to get free the more Blaise pulled you closer.

‘Blaise, please, stop!’ you screeched and placed both your hands on his chest to push him away.

Finally he pulled back and looked at your flushed face. You were staring back at him with a laugh on your face and your hands still on his chest. Suddenly Blaise became aware of how much he wanted to kiss you now you were so close. He could see sun reflecting in your eyes and the shine on your eyelashes. You were so close and it would be so easy to lean into you.

It costed Blaise all his strength to let go of you and avert his eyes.

You let a sigh fall from your lips when you pulled your hands away. Blaise’s body ached to get close to you, but he knew he wouldn’t until it was clear where exactly you were standing. He didn’t want to cross any lines if it meant ruining your friendship.

You got up from the bench and extended your hand to Blaise.

‘Come on,’ you said with a smile. ‘The others won’t be up soon, let’s do something fun.’

/\/\/\

An hour later you were walking with Blaise through the village as it was waking up. You had gone to Hank’s and now you were walking with his delicious cherry pastries in your hand. Though you loved the pastry, unfortunately it also meant that you couldn’t hold Blaise’s hand.

Having fun with Blaise was easy. You always had something to talk about, jokes came naturally and he understood you even when you couldn’t articulate your thoughts. When you were with Blaise time always passed too quickly and more than often you wished you had just a little longer with him.

You and Blaise sat down on a bench opposite of the library you were at yesterday and watched the people walk by in silence while you ate the cherry pastries.

‘Do your grandparents know we’re wizards?’ Blaise eventually broke the silence after he finished his pastry.

You nodded. ‘Yeah, they do. It’s kind of hard to hide something like that from them,’ you said, licking your fingers. ‘But we don’t really talk about it. They know about Hogwarts a bit, but not much more.’

Blaise looked at you and raised his eyebrow. ‘So if they know about magic, why’d we spent the entire week like muggles?’

You burst out in giggles and shook your head. ‘I thought it’d be fun,’ you shrugged. ‘We’ve just had seven years of Hogwarts, why not be a muggle for a week?’

You turned to Blaise and he chuckled softly.

‘What?’ you asked suspiciously.

‘There’s jam on your face,’ he smiled.

‘What? Where?’

You brought your hand to your cheek and tried to feel for the jam, but Blaise pushed your hand away. With big eyes you stared at him as he rested the palm of his hand on your jaw and wiped the cherry jam away with his thumb. It was as if your heart was beating out of your chest as he held his hand on your face a little longer, the heat radiating from his fingers.

Blaise cleared his throat and he quickly looked away, cleaning his finger with a napkin. You snapped out of your stare and looked at the side of Blaise’s face. He had been so close and your heart still hadn’t calmed down.

Pansy had told you time after time that Blaise liked you and a big part of you wanted to believe her, but it was at moments like these when he pulled away that you started to doubt.  And now you were done with the doubts.

Carefully you placed your hand on Blaise’s hand. ‘Blaise—’

However, before you could continue, Blaise took both your hands in his and he looked at you.

‘Tell me to stop and I will stop,’ he said and waited for a moment. When you said nothing he continued. ‘I need to tell you something. Something that’s been on my mind for years, but I’ve never had the guts for to tell. I’ve played this scenario over and over in my head, and sometimes it was good and sometimes it was bad—really bad.’

You stared at Blaise, waiting in anxiety. One part of you knew, suspected, what he was going to tell you, but you refused to get your hopes up. No matter what happened, you wouldn’t walk out one friend less; you would never let heartbreak get in the way of your friendship with Blaise.

‘I like you. Like a lot. And I’ve always been too much of a wuss to admit it, but this last week I’ve… I’ve started to think maybe you’re feeling the same way,’ Blaise confessed and pointed his hopeful eyes at you. ‘Which is why I’d really appreciate it if you said something right now…’

Before you could help it, a big smile spread on your face. A warm fire kindled inside of you, spreading the heat through your entire body. You took a deep breath and shifted a little closer to Blaise.

‘I like you too, Blaise,’ you admitted and relief fell from Blaise like a breath he was holding. ‘And I too, have been a wimp, too scared to confess.’

Blaise brought his face closer to yours and let out a nervous laugh. ‘Guess we’re both cowards like that.’

You were so close now that your noses were almost touching. His breath was hot on your lips, inviting you to come closer. There was a sheepishly happy grin on your face, and you feared it would never leave your mouth again.

‘Can I kiss you?’ you breathlessly asked, looking into Blaise’s dark eyes.

‘Please.’

Then his lips were on yours. Soft, sweet, pouring with feelings that had been bottled up for so long. His hands were somewhere in your waist or on your back—you didn’t know. All you could feel were his lips and the euphoria in your body, exploding with sparkles.

You did not ever want to let him go, but eventually you reached the end of your breath and had to catch some air. There was a stupid smile on your lips and Blaise was wearing the same grin. Slowly you kissed him again, and again and again, until your lips were bruised.

The feeling you had, was growing inside you with every minute you spent in Blaise’s arms. It made you warm and giddy, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. It was addicting, perhaps even dangerous, but it felt so right. Every moment now was a moment you wanted to saviour.

You rested your head on Blaise’s shoulder and he pressed a kiss on top of your head, lightly squeezing you into his side. ‘You know Draco and Pansy are gonna be awake soon?’ he asked. ‘And they’ll be looking for us?’

‘I don’t care,’ you mumbled and moved your head to look up at Blaise. ‘I way rather be here with you than deal with a grumpy Malfoy.’

‘Well, to be fair, anyone would,’ Blaise chuckled and he earned an elbow in his side.

‘You know what I mean,’ you said.

‘Of course, darling,’ Blaise smiled and he kissed your forehead. ‘I love being here with you too.’

/\/\/\

The field had been built the same as the first day of the festival, with little booths on the side and a stage in the back. Next to the stage stood a large wooden board, empty of any text other than ‘leader board’. On the stage stood a band, admired by the few people who were standing near.

The festival-site was already full of people waiting for the results. Blaise recognised some other Foxes, including Mica and Ivanna, two of the people who had been in his and Draco’s team for the scavenger hunt. Mica was standing with their friends close to the stage, shouting something to the lead singer, and Ivanna was sitting at the picnic tables in the middle of the field, with her baby and partner.

The sun was starting to its way down in the sky, as it was approaching late afternoon already. An immense surge of happiness hit Blaise as he walked onto the festival field with your hand in his and his two best friends trailing next to him. He looked to his side and a big smile spread on his face unconsciously when he saw your beautiful face was complimented by the golden streaks of the sun. It made you look like the angel he believed you were. He knew you were too humble to ever take that compliment, but Blaise would take all the time he had with you to convince you.

‘What are you looking at?’ you asked once you’d caught Blaise’s stare.

‘You,’ he simply said.

You huffed lightly and hid your face on Blaise’s shoulder. He chuckled and pressed his lips to the top of your head, earning a scoff from Pansy.

‘You’re all cute and stuff,’ she said, gesturing to your and Blaise’s hands. ‘But if you’re gonna be like this the entire time, I might puke. So keep the cheesy stuff to yourself, okay?’

You laughed and pushed Pansy’s shoulder. ‘Fine,’ you sighed. ‘But for the record, you’re the one who wanted us to be together.’

Pansy rolled her eyes and said nothing, but her smile gave her happiness away. She really was happy that Blaise and you were together, and just her reaction to the news this morning was enough proof—she had leaped from her chair and thrown herself at you when Blaise and you had walked hand-in-hand into the kitchen. So no matter how much she said she hated to see the two of you together, Blaise knew that his friend was only happy for him.

As was the same for Draco. He was never really one to openly show his real feelings, but even he had formed a joyful, and one might even say proud, grin on his face when he had seen you and Blaise. Of course, he would never admit it, but that smile was enough for Blaise.

‘So what do we do now?’ Blaise asked you, once your group had made in in the field.

‘The scores won’t be revealed till later this evening,’ you answered. ‘So we have some time to do fun things!’

‘Like what?’ Draco scowled, looking around the field, his eyes sticking to the people in front of the stage. ‘I’m not gonna dance, if that’s your plan.’

You laughed and shook your head. ‘I promise I won’t make you dance, but there are plenty of other things to do! Come on!’

You led your friends past all the booths, introducing them to some of the villagers they hadn’t met yet or having them try some local food.

The afternoon was spent by playing games—such as tossing bean bags, popping balloons and Pansy and Blaise even took a shot at apple-bobbing—and eating all the delicious treats the people of the village had made for the festival. Hank was back with his cherry pastries, ‘the last ones of the season’ he had said, the baker had made big sausage rolls that Draco refused to try, and Francis, owner of the greengrocery, sold large, juicy apples. Most time, however, was spent at the candy-booth. Aroon, the person behind the stall, sold many different kinds of sweets, from soft caramel toffee and butterscotch to colourful lollies and jelly beans in so many flavours it could compete with Bertie Botts every flavour beans. You bought a little bag of fudge, Pansy had a go at exciting looking round, chewy candies, Draco went for the peppermint-chocolates and Blaise bought hard candy in a nicely decorated glass jar.

All content with the purchases, you sat down at the picnic tables in the middle of the field and rested your feet for a while. While the sun was lowering on the horizon and you were all eating the sweets you had bought, you filled your friends in on the people around you.

‘That’s Mr. Kendall; he’s come to live here a few years ago but he’s never really mingled with his neighbours. It surprises me he even is here. Oh, that’s Kailey. I met her two years ago on a trip to London in a pub with my parents. We got to talking and found out we both have family living here—hey! Kailey, hi!’ You waved enthusiastically at Kailey and she smiled back, with her arm around another girl. ‘That must be her girlfriend, Irene. And, see that old woman over there? That’s Mrs. Mavis. My grandfather had a huge fight with her last year that lasted from the summer to Christmas. I don’t even know what they were fighting about, but I do know that she refused to give in even when the whole village stood on my grandfather’s side.’

Blaise, who was sitting opposite of you, rested his chin on his palm and watched you as you continued to ramble about everyone around. While you started a story about Miss Withinger and her naked cat, Blaise smiled as he watched how you fervently moved your hands and pulled faces along with your words. He could just watch you for hours and he wouldn’t be bored. You had something so lively and comforting inside of you and at moments like this, it shone through, like the sun breaking from the clouds.

You caught Blaise staring and shot him an easy smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by the music stopping. Turning around, he saw a tall, dark woman that he recognised as the head of organisation step onto the stage. She cleared her throat and the field with people fell silent.

‘Good evening, everyone!’ she said and flashed her white teeth as she smiled. ‘It is my pleasure to share with you the results of the fifty-sixth Summer Games!’

The woman started telling how the results would be revealed and Blaise scanned around the field. Between him and the stage was the homemade dancefloor and it was filled with participants of the Games. Many of them Blaise didn’t know, for he hadn’t met everyone during the games, but he did see a few familiar faces. Halfway between the stage and the picnic tables stood the Sly Foxes’ team captain, Alysia Gemeti. Blaise had only spoken briefly with her after their spat at the soccer games the first day and he had avoided her mostly. Although he wanted his team to win, of course, he felt that, with how Alysia had treated you, she didn’t really deserve the victory.

On Blaise’s right, at one of the other tables, sat Raoul with both his dads. The boy wasn’t really listening to the woman and was, just as Blaise, looking around the field. When he saw Blaise a big smile broke on his face and he waved at him. Blaise waved back and laughed when Raoul made a face like he’d fall asleep.

A big man close to the stage was roaring with laughter and Blaise felt a pang of anger in his stomach when he realised who it was. It was the man who had pushed you over in the soccer game. Blaise hadn’t seen him the rest of the festival and the man hadn’t apologised to you at all.

Before Blaise could anger himself more, however, the woman on the stage caught his attention as she was walking towards the board, where two men had gathered below.

‘And now the moment we have all been waiting for so long!’ the head of organising announced. ‘Starting with the last place! Drumroll, please,’ she said to the drummer on stage. ‘Fourth place goes to… the Raging Angels!’

There was a collective groan from the Angels and a modest applause from the other teams.

‘Well done, Angels! With forty-two points you were so close to being in third place,’ the woman on stage continued. ‘However, that place is taken, with forty-five points, by… the Oiled Machines!’

Blaise watched the man who’d tipped you over slam his fist on the table and curse to whoever was listening around him.

‘They don’t deserve that,’ Blaise whispered as he turned around to his friends. ‘They were awful players!’

You took Blaise’s hand over the table and gave it a soft squeeze. ‘I know, but I’m long glad they didn’t win,’ you whispered back. ‘They did three years back and they were insufferable the next festival.’

The applause for the Machines was a lot softer than for the Angels, but Blaise didn’t know if it was because the people didn’t want to applause for them or because they were too anxious for the next results.

‘Two teams left!’ the woman on stage said and her eyes cast over the crowd on the ground. ‘The Sly Foxes—’ a loud cheer erupted from the Foxes on the dancefloor ‘—and the Red Titans—’ all the Titans, including you and Pansy, shouted at the mention ‘—are battling for the victory. It was a tight race, with both teams neck-and-neck throughout all the games, but eventually the scavenger hunt set the difference.’

The woman gestured at the board, where the Angels and Machines’ scores had been placed at the bottom. One of the men hung two little boards with ‘53’ and ‘57’ on the bigger board.

You were still holding Blaise’s hand over the table and he tightened his grip. ‘Good luck,’ he muttered to you and you smiled back.

‘With four points difference, the winners of this year’s Summer Games are… the Red Titans!’

The loud cheering that erupted from every Titan around was almost as loud as the cheering of the entire Hogwarts student-body at a quidditch match. You and Pansy jumped up from your seats and shouted and embraced each other. You joined the rest of the Titans, screaming and laughing in euphoria.

‘Well, they did it,’ Blaise laughed and he patted Draco on his back. ‘Just like they said.’

‘Just like they said,’ Draco nodded and although he had lost there was a smile on his face.

All of the Titans went to the stage where you all received a plastic medal. The team captain, Wyatt Holm, got a big trophy and he victoriously held it above his head, roaring like a madman.

Music started to play again and Draco and Blaise watched as you and Pansy celebrated your win with the team. People came up to congratulate you and when finally the crowd became a little less busy, the sky was already turning dark. The band played a slower song and as couples started to dance on the dancefloor, Blaise walked up to you and put out his hand.

‘May I have this dance?’

You threw your arms around Blaise’s neck and laughed. ‘Of course.’

For a while you swayed in silence. You were resting your head on Blaise’s shoulder and he had his cheek on top of your head. Your hand fit perfectly in his and as you twirled slowly around, Blaise could only think that this was what he wanted forever.

You hummed softly along to the music and Blaise felt the vibrations in his chest. He looked down at you and the smile made its way to his mouth without him trying.

After a while you looked up and tilted your head to Blaise. ‘I like this,’ you said softly, like loud words would ruin the moment.

‘I like you,’ Blaise said back and you smiled.

‘I like you, too,’ you whispered and bumped your nose with Blaise’s.

You giggled and that was enough for Blaise to give into the moment and forget everyone around him. He captured your lips in a kiss that was sweeter than all the candy at the booth combined. His heart fluttered and he could have stayed in the moment forever, if it wasn’t for the music to change.

Laughing and with hot cheeks he pulled back from you. You started to dance to the new music and quickly you were joined by Pansy, who brought Draco along. He said he refused to dance, but you took his hands and swung him around on the dancefloor. Pansy took Blaise’s arms and danced around next to you and Draco, who couldn’t help the big smile on his face.

‘I told you the Summer Games would be fun!’ you yelled as you threw your head back.

Blaise looked at you and Pansy and Draco, and he had to admit you were right; the Summer Games were fun.

- - - - - - -

taglist

general HP: @harry-pottery-barn​​ @potters-heart​​ @kingalrdy​​ @missswriter​​ @figlia–della–luna​​@sexysirius​​ @awritingtree​​ @bi-andready-tocry​​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​​ @ananad1​​ @treestarrrrrrrr​​ @your-hispanichufflepuff​​ @thefandomplace​​ @theeicedamericano​​ @girllety​​ @moonstarrnghtsky @swearingsolemnly​​ @weasleydream​​ @secretsthathauntus​​ @amixedwitch​​ @izzyyy-1​​ @gryffindorgirl​​ @kitkatkl​​ @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts​​ @nyotamalfoy​​​

MASTERLIST

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (1/?)

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

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

Rating: Mature

a/n: Do you know what’s a great way to distract yourself from writing and other responsibilities? By writing a story that you shouldn’t be writing. So, here we are, and I hope you enjoy 😂

On AO3 | Here | 

-/-

June

The ocean water runs over his toes before disappearing, heading back to its home beyond the sand. It’s a cool contrast against the heat of the sun that’s warmly beating down on his skin, but it matches the chill of the beer bottle against his palm. Who knows what time it is? From the emptiness of the beach, Killian is guessing it’s mid-morning, but seriously, who the hell knows anymore?

Likely everyone other than him.

After more water washes over his feet and up his ankles, he decides the water is too cold to stay standing this close to the shoreline, so he walks up the path to his house and closes the gate behind him. He sits down at the bench by his pool and then buries his face in his hands before moving to take a sip of the beer.

God, he hopes it’s not truly the morning because he’s one second away from tipping the bottle enough for the beer to tumble down his throat.

Killian yanks it away and tosses it to the ground. He expects the damn thing to shatter against the tile, but it doesn’t. It rolls away into the grass, spilling a little beer with every turn until it stops against the tall grass lining the gate. Killian bends down and picks up another bottle, popping it open, then pouring it out. He does the same thing over and over again until his grass is fertilized with alcohol.

At least his body isn’t.

What a thought to have (presumably) so early in the morning.

His eyes close, the sun no longer blinding his vision, and he starts picking up the bottles, chasing them around and cursing himself for even buying the damn case in the first place. He has no clue what damn day it is, but he does know that it’s too damn early for him to be drinking. And if he’s going to get wasted and waste his day, he might as well do it with rum or whiskey. He doesn’t even like beer.

Killian chucks the bottles in the bin resting against the side of the rental house and goes through the side door into the kitchen. It’s clean today, all the white countertops empty of plates and pitchers and the junk that accumulates over time. The living room is clean as well, all the pillows in the right place, the throw blankets over the correct corners of couches, and he can see vacuum lines in the rug. He’s sure if he were to walk to the mantle, it’d be empty of dust. Ariel must have sent someone in to clean yesterday while he was away from the house. He’s got to have her stop doing that. He’s thirty-five years old. He can clean the house he’s staying in. He doesn’t need her taking care of his life for him.

Though, it is literally her job, but Ariel takes things far past being his manager. He doesn’t know anyone else who does all the things she does for their client, especially when he isn’t bringing in the same amount anymore. Sponsors aren’t exactly lining up at the door for disgraced football – not the American kind as everyone here believes – players, but he still has a few hanging around and good enough investments that he’ll be alright for a long while. Bored as hell with too much time for him to wander to bars in Martha’s Vineyard before talking himself out of them and sitting in a twenty-four-hour diner all night. He’s got his favorites. One has better coffee than the others, but the booths aren’t clean. Another has clean booths but a piss excuse for coffee, and his favorite has a selection of pies that have him eating in ways he hasn’t since he was young. Still, they’re all pathetic little places for him to spend his time so he doesn’t drink more than he can tolerate.

At least no one knows him here. It’s actually why he’s here to begin with. There are obviously less famous towns and places in the world, but he wanted to be near the ocean, wanted to at least have that if he was going to be in disgraced isolation. This area has beach for miles and different nooks to disappear into, and so far, it’s nice. He’d rather be in London or New York, but he knows this is better.

He collapses onto the couch and sees a note on the coffee table in Ariel’s neat script. When was she even here? Honestly.

Killian, Eric and I are in town for the week. Please come to lunch at our house. We’d love to have you! I know you don’t have anything better to do, so don’t bother calling me with an excuse. Hope you enjoy the clean house!

-   A

He runs his hand over his face and scratches at his too-long beard before fumbling for his phone and checking the date and time. It’s half past eight. He can get two, maybe three, hours of sleep now, and he’ll only look half as pissed as he feels when he makes his way to Ariel and Eric’s house a few miles over in Tisbury.

At least he isn’t actually pissed. Always the positives, he guesses.

-/-

Ariel’s house is covered in gray shingles with white trim. The shutters are cherry red, much like her hair, and while there are obvious updates to the place, it looks just as it did in the pictures he’s seen from when Ariel was young. She was raised here, her father a local fisherman, and while she now resides outside of London, on occasion, she returns to Tisbury for a holiday. It’s why he chose to holiday here even if he’s over in Edgartown on the beach in a house too large for one person. He spent years listening to her talk about her childhood, and then visiting when she married Eric here, and he wanted that calm sense of relaxation.

Right now, however, he wants nothing more than to be back in a city. The firing squad won’t be as intrusive there where he can get lost in a crowd instead of being the center of attention.

Killian opens the unlocked front door that squeaks on its hinges, and he immediately smells garlic bread baking in the oven. She must be making her pasta, and his stomach growls for real food. As he walks through the hall at the entrance of the house, he notices that everything is the same, all the family portraits are in the same places, there are a few too many nautical decorations, but it all works. Killian looks into the kitchen, sees that it’s empty, and calls out for Ariel and Eric, no answer. He takes the liberty of checking the oven, and when he notices the bread is slightly overdone, he grabs an oven mitt and takes it out, placing the tray on the stove.

Where the hell are they?

He pushes open the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and he sees two figures toward the side of the yard. Killian sighs and walks over to them, only stopping when he realizes it’s three people instead of two.

Ariel and Eric are talking to a gorgeous woman in a pair of small white shorts and a fitted polo. She’s got long, thick blonde hair pulled off her neck, and he can’t stop glancing down at her legs. He doesn’t usually pay much attention to people anymore, unless of course they are paying attention to him, but he cannot help but notice her. Because she’s stunning, of course, but also because he wasn’t expecting to see anyone else. He thought they would be isolated, and his gut tells him to turn around and run.

He doesn’t.

“Hello?” he starts, and they all turn to him. “I, uh, took your bread out of the oven.”

“Oh shit,” Ariel mumbles. “I forgot I’d put the bread in the oven. Is it burned?”

“No, I think I saved it just in time, love.”

Ariel’s shoulders deflate, and then she’s closing the distance between them, hugging him tightly, before Eric does the same and claps him on his back several times. He’s missed them, and it feels good to be embraced by something other than a heavy blanket. When Eric releases him, Killian can see the woman still standing in the yard, shifting on her feet.

“Hello,” he greets, nodding in her direction.

“Hi,” she nods back.

“Oh, Emma,” Ariel begins, walking over to her and grabbing her arm, “this is my friend, Killian. He’s staying on the island for awhile. Killian, this is Emma. We rent the house to her for most of the year, so we’ve invaded her home this week, I’m afraid.”

“It’s fine,” Emma says. “You guys basically give me the place for free, and I picked up some extra shifts at the club. I’d never be home anyway.”

“What do you do, love?”

“Not your love,” she corrects, and he feels the sting even if he uses the term for many a woman, “and I’m a manager at a little place by the shore, but sometimes during the summer I’ll wait tables at the local country club for extra money. The people will treat you like shit, but at least they tip well since they have no concept of real-life money.”

“What’s the restaurant?” he asks. “Maybe I could eat there.”

Her brows raise, and he gets the feeling she’s not a fan of the idea of him disturbing her at work. He gets the feeling she’s not a fan of him at all. Funny, his first impressions are usually better than this.

“The Blue Dog Tavern.” She points to the logo on her shirt. “I actually have to go there now. I just had to drop by and get my shirt since my boss is coming by today. I’ll stay out of your way when I get home tonight,” she tells Ariel and Eric. “It’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“Oh, no, honey,” Ariel sighs, smiling at Emma, “we’re the ones disturbing you. I promise, it’ll be a fast week, and then everything can go back to normal.”

Emma nods with a tight smile, and he definitely gets the idea that she isn’t a fan of having Ariel and Eric here. He wouldn’t be either if he had to share his home with his landlords. She walks away into the kitchen, leaving the door open behind her, and Killian makes a note of the restaurant she mentioned, not necessarily to see her but to venture somewhere that isn’t a twenty-four-hour diner.

“Is that why I couldn’t stay here?” Killian asks. “Because you already rent it out?”

“Yep. Plus, it’s not on the beach, and that was your request. This isn’t really to your taste anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, A?”

She shrugs and walks toward the kitchen. “Nothing. I’ve got to finish cooking. I was just about to put the pasta on the stove when Emma came in through the back gate, and I got distracted. Thanks for saving the bread, Jones.”

“Is she okay?” Killian asks Eric.

“Yeah, mate, she’s fine.” He claps his hand onto Killian’s shoulder. “And what she meant by that is that you’re an ex-football player who is hiding from the world and is used to a certain kind of luxury. You’d lose your mind living in this house for months. It’s smaller than a quarter of your flat back home.”

“I would not lose my mind living here. It’s charming.”

Eric rolls his eyes. “You would. I think the giant crab pillow in the living room would be what pushed you over the edge.”

“That thing is still here?”

“It’ll never leave, and I’ve offered to pay Emma to get rid of it many times. I think she throws it out, and it finds its way back inside.”

Killian snickers and settles down on the bench of the dining table they keep outside, letting Eric follow. He feels like he hasn’t talked to another human being in ages, and he’s only been here for a few weeks. “You know her pretty well then? Emma?”

“No,” Eric starts, waving his hand, “no, no, no, no. You cannot go there.”

“What the hell are you on about? I can’t go where?”

“Emma. You can’t go there. She’s not a one-night stand for you. She lives here, takes care of it since we’re gone all the time. You can’t mess that up. Ariel would murder you if you screwed this arrangement up.”

Killian flashes a smile, the ones he’s used to get whatever he wants a million times. There’s an art to being in the public eye, one he figured out only to ruin it all over again, but he still knows the old tricks. Smile, be charming, never let them see any hesitation in your actions. If a question is too invasive or the answer to telling, redirect. It’s all about the redirection. Killian was never one to lie, but he was certainly one to evade, especially toward the end when he couldn’t handle hearing what everyone had to say.

Here, he doesn’t want to admit that Eric might be right about him, but mostly, he’s tired of people controlling his life because they think he can’t make good decisions.

“What?” he laughs, shaking his head. “You think I’m not capable of simply asking about a woman?”

“I think you are, but I don’t want Ariel to have any reason to kill you.”

“Eric,” Ariel yells from the kitchen, stopping Killian before he can speak, “set the table! We can eat in fifteen.”

Saved by the bell. Or the Ariel.

He hates himself a little for rhyming in his head. If this is how he thinks sober, he’s not sure he wants to stay this way.

“And Killian,” Ariel calls, “you can make the lemonade!”

Okay, so maybe he can, if only because Ariel will kill him if he collapses into the pit again, and she won’t be the only one. He’s had a few downfalls into drowning in alcohol since coming here. Maybe it’s boredom, maybe it’s sadness, who the hell knows? What he does know is that it makes the demons all disappear for the night, sometimes the morning too, but then it all comes roaring back in screaming color.

And with a hell of a screaming headache.

One or two drinks every few days, he reminds himself. That’s what he’s working with, and besides the few slips, he’s been pretty damn successful.

Killian heads inside to help Ariel, though he thinks he hinders her more than helps since he can’t find a damn thing, but eventually they get it all done and eat. Mostly, he has to listen to Ariel give him a briefing on things he has to do over the next few weeks. He has contracts to sign, video interviews and conferences to attend, and they need to happen at certain times. That’s a bit obnoxious, but he can’t complain. He’d be the biggest ass in the world if he did, and he’s certainly already in the running for that title. People still want his face and brand to represent them, and he doesn’t even kick around a ball anymore.

Fools. All of them.

Ariel asks him to stay for dessert, but he’s already eaten too much off his usual diet. Old habits die hard, and he isn’t working out like he used to. Maybe he’ll take up running again soon, but right now, the thought is exhausting. Killian excuses himself from the table, hugging the Fishers goodbye and wishing them goodnight. He’s sure he’ll see them before they return to England and go back to their regular lives. Ariel still has Will and Rob to manage, so she can’t spend all of her time on him. There are other pieces of work out there.

The streets are crowded as Killian drives back to his rental house. Tourists and native islanders alike are out to go to dinner or bars, likely a party or two, and while Killian is tempted to take a turn and go out himself, he doesn’t. He continues along the GPS guide back to his rental house until the garage door is closing behind him.

Day seventeen of being here - now that he knows the date, he’s reminded of when he arrived - is done and dusted, and he cannot wait to close his eyes and go to sleep. He’s been running on fumes all day.

Once inside, Killian quickly showers and puts on a pair of pajama bottoms, collapsing under the covers of his bed as soon as possible. So, of course, that’s when his phone rings.

“It’s bloody half past one in the morning where you are.”

“And only half past eight where you are, so why are you in bed? You look horrible.”

Killian groans and pinches his nose as he props the phone up to get a better look at the screen. “Thanks, Els.”

“No problem.” She flips her blonde braid over her shoulder, and despite the time, she looks as if she could be up and ready for work in minutes. “I was up, couldn’t sleep, and I figured I needed to check on you. I’m sorry I don’t have the girls with me.”

“Did you tell Ally and Sophia I love them?”

“I tell them every day, but I think they’d appreciate it more if they heard it from their actual uncle.”

“I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Good,” Elsa sighs. She adjusts herself on her couch, pulling her blanket up higher on her body, and the familiar pang of guilt hits Killian. It happens anytime he talks to just Elsa. The girls act as a buffer, and he feels guilty for using them like that. He feels guilt about a lot of things. “How are you?”

“Good,” he lies. “Really good. I think I’m going to take up real running again soon, maybe finally check out the gym in the basement of this house. What about you, love?”

“I’m okay. Work has kept me really busy, which I like. I have this one house with the biggest garden I’ve ever seen, and designing it has proven to be a bit of a challenge. But I miss spending time with the girls. Anna has been such a big help, though. I love having her here.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure that’s great.” Killian runs his hand through his hair, yanking at the strands, and sinks a little further into the bed. It’s nice that Anna is around, that she’s been around this entire time while Killian fucked off across western Europe and then eventually to America. Yet again, he’s let someone he loves down because he’s an absolute tosser. “It’s nice to have a family you can count on.”

“Hey, don’t start that again, Killian. I’m not here for self-pity. You’ve had a hard year, and you needed some time away. No one is blaming you for that.”

“I’m not the one who lost my husband, love. I wasn’t left with two little girls with no father.”

Killian tilts his head up so he doesn’t have to see Elsa as water gathers around his eyes. Today was an okay day. Started off rough, but it ended up being alright. Now he’s gone and made Elsa talk about Liam’s death instead of having a normal conversation with her.

“My grief doesn’t negate yours, darling. You lost your brother, who was your best friend, and you lost the career you spent your entire life building. We can both be sad. It’s not a competition.”

Killian blows air out his nose and blinks the forming tears away. “How’d you get so wise?”

“Well, you see, when a child with a head the size of a football comes out of your vagina, you get special emotional intelligence. It’s something to do with all the hormones and pain.”

Killian finally looks down at his phone to see Elsa laughing, and the corners of his mouth twitch. “You make me glad to be a man.”

“You should be glad. You’re at least fifteen steps ahead of every woman in the world. Now, come on, I want to hear about everything you’ve been doing. Have you made any friends?”

“What am I? A lad in reception?”

“No, because my child in reception has many friends.”

Killian rolls his eyes. “Well, I met the loveliest waitress last night. Reminded me of my Gran, and, uh, today I met the woman who lives in Ariel and Eric’s house. Don’t think she was a fan of me.”

“However could a woman resist your charms?”

He laughs, even if he doesn’t appreciate the sarcasm, and this time when he sinks a little deeper into the bed, it’s for comfort and not to hide. When Killian got the news Liam died in a Naval accident, it felt like his world was ending, that the ground was crumbling underneath his feet. He was at the club warming up to head out onto the pitch, and suddenly his sacred place wasn’t so sacred. He couldn’t understand any words leaving Elsa’s voice over the phone. Everything was ringing, and his legs collapsed from underneath him.

He’ll never forget that day. One moment everything in his world was right, and then it wasn’t. and he’ll never get over the fact that Elsa has been the one who has had to continue holding him up when she lost someone too.

“Well, if their names are Ally and Sophia Jones, they are experts at resisting my charms.”

“Unless you give them sweets.”

Killian chuckles. “Those are my good charms.” Elsa smiles and yawns on the other end of the line. “Els, I think you need to go to sleep. I promise to call the girls tomorrow.”

She nods and flips her braid over. “Don’t go breaking your promises to them.”

“Never, love. I’m a man of my word.”

Or, at least, he used to be. His word seems to falter lately, but mostly only his words to himself. Killian looks out the glass doors and windows toward the ocean, watching the water crest much like this morning, but he hopes that tomorrow morning he won’t be standing there with a bottle of beer in his hands.

Maybe he can keep that promise to himself at least.

-/-

-/-

Tag list: @qualitycoffeethings​ @marrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @scarletslippers​ @elizabeethan​ @jrob64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @cowboys-likeme​ @galaxyzxstark​ @galadriel26​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @superchocovian​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @mariakov81​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @cluttermind​ @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @captain-emmajones​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @capthamm​ 

(You can be added or removed at any time. I don’t know where my list went, so I’ve just taken it from my last story 😘)

[smol-and-grumpy]

Good Morning - Chapter 5

Coffee shop!AU

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, owner of Dean’s Beans is living a humble and quiet life. Roasting beans and selling coffee in his little shop is what makes him happy. When she walked into his shop four months ago, his life changed, but is it for better or worse?

Chapter Warnings: Angst, mention of physical abuse, fluff too

WC: 2820

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Wednesday, September 9th

 Dean’s up before the alarm. It doesn’t happen that often since the alarm goes off at 5 AM and waking up before the set alarm doesn’t feel human to him. 

But this morning it happened because he laid awake the whole night. He laid awake last night too, if he’s honest. Sleep is not something that comes easily since he came back from the fishing trip with Ben and had time to be alone with his thoughts again. 

He thought it would be better if he sees her on Monday, that his heart would be calmer when she walks into his shop, and sets up her little workspace Dean had promised her she could have. But that never happened. She never showed up. And it irritates the shit out of him.

Dean pushes it off as she’s probably been busy, has gotten up late, and didn’t manage to come in to grab a coffee. And that she might have forgotten that he told her she could work in his shop. It’s just— it never happened before? She never stayed away on weekdays. Not in the four months he’s served her.

So yeah, he’s worried and he’s grumpy. 

The whole day went by and now it’s almost closing time. He had sent Benny home. Maybe because he had gotten on Dean’s nerves the whole day. Driving him nuts and pulling his leg because Dean’s overly grouchy. But maybe it’s also because it allows him to be alone with his thoughts without having to pretend as Benny’s rants about his girlfriend of the week. Dean’s sick of that too, not that he judges but maybe, if you don’t want to commit, then don’t? Benny’s not one who likes to be tied down, yet he always lets the girls talk him into it, only to dump them several weeks later. There had been scenes in the shop, not nice ones until Dean had had enough and told Benny to never bring a girl here ever again. 

Dean doesn’t know why he’s so sullen, alright? All he knows that it has been five fucking days since she was here last. It’s crazy how hung up he is on her. It’s not really a good thing.

He switches off the lights, only leaving the one at the coffee machine still shining brightly down at him while he starts to clean it. He thumbs over his phone, searches for some tunes to rock out to while cleaning. Because that’s also what he does. He likes to sing while cleaning, which annoys the fuck out of Benny.

His fingers work swiftly on the big machine, every move is programmed into his head, every motion sits right. It’s really mechanical. He's used to it, does it every day and by now, he thinks he’s able to do it with his eyes closed. Dean whistles to the tune of the music as he does, shaking his head, and mumbling the chorus. 

The art of coffee. Roasting the beans, grinding them, making coffee, cleaning the machine. It became his forte, his solace and form of therapy.  

He gets pulled out of his thoughts by a knock at the door.

Dean looks back, thinking it’s the back door. Thinking that maybe Benny’s forgotten something, and Dean has left the key in the lock so the other man can’t get in. When he looks back, there’s another knock and he realizes that it doesn’t come from the back.

He turns back around, sees a shadowy figure by the glass door. It has started to get dark outside, so he can only make out a shape.

Abandoning his task, he walks towards the door, the face of the person who’s knocking is hidden by the sign hanging on his shop door.

When he gets close enough to peek over the sign, Dean’s heart damn near stops beating.

He smiles, his hands are shaking and his legs almost give out, and yet, he still manages to turn the lock and open up.

Y/N looks tired, she looks a little thin. Looks like she hasn’t eaten for a couple of days. Her hair’s up in a ponytail, the circles around her eyes are dark. She hasn’t bothered with any kind of makeup. Dean doesn’t think that she needs any anyway.

“I’m sorry, I—, I didn’t,” She says, and pulls at her too large zipped hoodie that she’s wearing against the chill of the evening. 

Dean can’t help but wonder if it belongs to a man. Gets a little weird feeling deep down in his guts.

“Shit,” She mumbles, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come, you are closing and… god, it’s stupid, I’m sorry,” 

She turns around, and he knows that he has to stop her, and has the feeling that if he doesn’t, it’ll be a while until he’ll get to see her again.

So, Dean clears his throat, pushing words past his lips, “No, Y/N, wait,” He’s proud of himself for bringing anything past his lips, to be honest. Dean watches her turn back towards him and looks at him with that little frown as if she’s not sure. He grins, “Do you want a coffee?”

There’s a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It makes her face light up and he watches in slow motion as the smile spreads into something bigger. She exhales, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “Yeah,” She nods, “I’d like that. Only if it’s not too much trouble.”

How can he say that it’s the least of his troubles? How can he say that he would do so much more if it means that he gets a chance to see that smile again?

Dean doesn’t know, so all he does is shake his head, “Not at all,” He smiles back and waits for her to walk in.

Locking the door behind her, Dean follows her in further, and he notices that she’s looking at the dismantled machine.

“Oh no, you already cleaned,”

“I’m not finished,” He says and slips back behind the counter, “It’s really no trouble. Go sit, I’ll be right up,” Dean reassures her, sees her frowning at him and he has to chuckle, “Really, Y/N. It’s no big deal,”

“‘K,” She nods, bites on her lips. 

He notices that there’s no gloss on it, notices a little cut too. He wonders what caused it.

As she walks further into the shop, Dean turns the music down and switches on some overhead lights. Not all of them of course. He doesn’t want to give people the impression that he’s still open, but just enough so they wouldn’t be sitting in the dark. 

Dean screws the parts back to the machine with skilled fingers. He risks a glance over, sees her sitting at the same table as last time. She’s watching him too, and he feels his face warm up.

Returning to his task, Dean refills the beans and waits for the machine to warm up. When he finishes heating up the milk, he sets two mugs below it and screws the piston in. Soon, the delicious smelling black liquid pours out. 

He makes her a cappuccino. Honestly, he doesn’t know if she drinks any other coffee, but he wants to find out some time. 

Dean drinks his coffee black.

Carrying over the two mugs, his heart thumps a little faster the closer he gets. 

“Thank you so much, you didn’t have to,” She says, her head is a little lowered. It sounds like she genuinely feels bad for stopping by.

“Really,” Dean sits down, “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” He waves her off, takes a sip of his coffee as he watches her wrap her hands around her mug, and tips it to her lips.

Y/N closes her eyes briefly as she swallows, probably letting the taste flood her nerves and mind. It shouldn’t affect him, but it does because there’s the drumming in his chest that gets slightly faster.

“I’m sorry, really,” She apologizes again, and keeps her mug at her lips, taking another sip, “I just… you know, I… Oh my god,” She sets the mug down and rubs herself over her face, “I can’t even talk,”

Dean chuckles lightly because he knows that feeling too well.

“Okay, again,” Y/N says, after she composes herself, “I didn’t know where to go and I kind of ended up here without me even realizing it. I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to hold you up. I’ll just drink the coffee and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Y/N, can you do me a favor?” Dean says with a straight face and a frown that’s not actually meant to intimidate her, but he realizes after he said it that it might have because he can look very intimidating, apparently. He doesn’t agree, but people have told him so.

“Huh?” She cocks an eyebrow at him and he can see the color rise in her face.

“Please stop apologizing? I mean, it’s really okay. It’s my pleasure, I’m actually happy to see you again.” 

There. He said it. Without stuttering too. Although he thinks his heart dropped to his balls for a second and is trying to climb back up.

She exhales audibly and there’s that small smile, “Thank you, I just… You must have other things to do.”

He thinks about her words. Thinks about what awaits him after he cleans the shop. Thinks about his empty apartment, his empty couch, empty bed. 

“I don’t,” He says truthfully, “Are you okay?” Dean asks, he doesn’t know why he does. Perhaps, because he wants to know if she’s okay. He still remembers the last time when she took off so suddenly.

“I am now, yeah,” She answers, her fingers playing with her mug.

“Why did you say you didn’t know where to go?”

“It’s been rough.” Y/N sighs and swallows. She’s about to lift her mug, but her hoodie gets in the way and she pulls the arms of them back a little subconsciously to be able to grip the mug and that’s when he sees it. Dean can not unsee it even if he would fucking try. 

The bruises. It’s a greenish-purple. Meaning that it’s healing.

Dean swallows hard, but he doesn’t say anything, waits for her to set the mug down. 

When she finishes her coffee, she has noticed him staring and is about to pull the arm of the sweater back. His hand shoots out, brushes over her wrist, and Dean thinks that she’s going to swat him away but she doesn’t.

“Who did this to you?” He asks with concern in his voice. 

“It’s nothing,” She mumbles. 

“Y/N,” Dean starts, has to swallow hard because he wonders what other bruises he would uncover if he lets her take off her hoodie. He swallows, because it physically hurts him, it irritates the fuck out of him, too. He calms himself down, at least enough to not burst out in a fit of anger, “I can see you’re not okay. You haven’t been here since Friday.”

“You’ve noticed?” She raises her eyebrow in question.

“Yeah,” Dean chuckles, “I notice when you don’t come and get your coffee. To be honest,” Dean sighs and his heart is beating a little faster, “You’re the highlight of the day, so yeah, I notice.”

She doesn’t say anything, just dips her chin down a little, the color rises in her cheeks. 

“Who did this to you?” He asks again, wondering if it the one who left her a message in all caps last time. That Chris— something. Because Dean would like to rip that guy’s lungs out. “Do you need help? Can I help in any way?” He asks, when she still doesn’t answer.

“I—, It’s…. Ugh,” She closes her eyes, “It’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Ex. 

At least it’s an ex. Dean can live with that.

He doesn’t say anything. He sits there, perfectly still and waits until she speaks again because there’s no point in him getting angry, even if he would love to bash that guys head in, for sure. 

“It’s nothing, Dean. It’s over now.”

“Is that why he hurt you? Because you broke off with him?”

“Not necessarily. I was late getting home on Friday.”

Fuck. It was because of him, wasn’t it?

Dean swallows down the guilt he feels, “Shit, I’m sorr—”

“—No, it’s not your fault.” She’s quick to add, “It’s my fault, too.”

“Y/N, no. Someone hurting you is never your fault, you gotta know that.” 

She looks down at her hands in her lap.

“Is that why you didn’t show up? Because you wanted the bruises to heal? That’s why you came here? Because you said you didn’t know where to go?”

Dean sees one single teardrop falling from her eyes to the hand in her lap.

“Shit,” Dean gets up from his chair, walks around, and takes her hands out from her lap. He helps her up to her feet, wraps his arms around her, and lets her cry into his chest. 

While he lets her cry her eyes out, he strokes her back, stroke her head, feels fucking anger towards her ex. 

“Are you scared to go home?”

“Uh-huh,” She mumbles into his chest.

“Does he have a key?” 

“I changed the lock,”

He feels her hand coming around his middle, hugging him back. That’s a start, right? He just wishes he wouldn’t be semi-hard just from that. It’s not the fucking right time.

“Do you want to stay here? I mean, you don’t know me, but I just want to help. My apartment’s right above the shop and I have a spare bedroom.”

Y/N pushes herself away from him and looks up. Her nose is swollen and red, her eyes too. It’s too cute. 

“I can’t,” She says, “I—, I mean I can’t invade your space just because I don’t like to be alone at night.”

“What if I insist?”

“Dean, really, it’s too much.”

“Okay,” He chuckles, “What would you do if you won’t stay?”

She looks down, nibbles at her lips as she thinks, “I think I’d go to the diner close to here, they open till 2 AM.”

“The crowd there’s terrible,” Dean mumbles, he’s been in there before, nobody’s usually sober in there.

“I just have to kill some time.” She shrugs and winds herself out of his embrace. He didn’t even notice that he’s still holding her.

Dean lets his hand drop to his side, missing the feeling of her body pressed to his already, “Kill your time in my apartment,” He says, “That way I know nothing will happen to you.”

 *

 She lets him guide her up to his apartment, let him show her where her bed will be for the night, lets him show her the couch, and that he has a fridge stocked with edible things. 

He excuses himself to go down and lock up his shop, finishing cleaning up his machine in record time.

When Dean comes back up, she’s splayed on his couch, the blanket pulled up to her chin. Netflix is still on, some documentaries about serial killers. He hopes she doesn’t think that he is one. She’s sleeping, and Dean really doesn’t want to wake her, but he does because there’s a perfect bed in the room, she shouldn’t be sleeping on an uncomfortable couch.

“Hey,” He kneels down, hand reaching out to shake her gently.

Y/N stirs just a little before she turns and buries her face deeper into his couch. Dean wonders how much sleep she’d had lately. It might be the safest she felt in days. Maybe, weeks. He doesn’t know, doesn’t even want to think about it because it makes him mad again. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Dean tries again, waiting for a reaction.

When none is forthcoming, he decides to scoop her up and carry her to bed. Dean notices as he pulls the blanket from her body that she has stripped to her shirt. Her one forearm is bruised, as well as her upper arm. Fucker must have had a tight grip around her. 

He curses to himself as he carries her over to his guest room and lays her down. Dean covers her and the shirt and strokes her hair out of her face. His finger brushes along her throat, catching the collar of her shirt. The lighting is not very good, but his eyes can’t miss the bruise along her shoulder. It goes further down too, but Dean doesn’t dare to look. Doesn’t want her waking up and think that he’s being nosy. Which he really isn’t but he’s just… so fucking mad that someone did this to her.  

Goddammit.

Shaking his head, he makes his way out of the room. With a last look back, he closes the door. 

Chapter 6

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[thiswasinevitableid]

For mermay, could you do 11 for sternclay? sfw please :) I love your prompt fills!

Thank you so much! Here you go. The prompt was “royalty” and I based Barclay on a basking shark and Joseph on a mimic octopus.

For the last two weeks, Joseph has been hearing what a difficult assignment he’s taken, and how most bodyguards wouldn’t take it even with the handsome pay. That the princes of Sylvain are impossible to guard, that they’ve gone through more security staff than sharks go through teeth (this part he knows to be true from the records he’s found). 

Two days in, he’s starting to wonder if there’s been some sort of mistake. 

Now, had he received Duck’s assignment, he’d understand the warnings. Prince Indrid, seer to the court of Sylvain, has already shown himself to be a strange mixture of aloof, demanding, and spoiled.

But Prince Barclay?

When Joseph was shown into his chambers and introduced, the instant the servants left Barclay swam over to him with a nervous smile. He asked if there was anything he could get him, was he hungry, would he like something to drink? Joseph accepted that last offer, curious to see how the prince would react if called upon to perform hospitality rather than simply offer it. 

What happened was Barclay swam into an anteroom and came back with a carved coral platter with mother of pearl pitcher and goblets, pouring Joseph’s first before taking a glass for himself. 

That set the tone for his behavior, and it hasn’t changed in the week since he’s arrived. The prince, charcoal tailed and a little shy, seems to view Joseph as just another mer to talk to. When in the castle, Barclay will ask him his thoughts on the historical and political scrolls his tutors assign him as part of his preparation to one day inherit the kingdom. Out in public, Joseph shifts into the background, watches everything with care while the prince swims behind his parents or, more often, their advisors. 

“Do you think there was some kind of misunderstanding with his previous guard?” Joseph asks Duck over a late night dinner in the hall, which allows them to keep their eyes on their charges rooms. 

“I mean, he seems like a nice enough fella to me. But nice fellas can still be sneaky; from what Ned told me, Barclay’s an escape artist. Think he might be lurin you into a false sense of security.”

“And I think trusting what Ned Chicane tells you is a terrible way to gather intel.”

Movement from Indrid’s room and Duck stiffens, listening, then relaxes.

“Shouldn’t you go check on that?”

“Nah, he’s just pacin, does that a lot, especially at night.”

“He really should get some sleep.”

Duck shrugs, “He should. But treatin him like a child is the wrong way to go. He knows he oughta rest, my remindin him will just annoy him. Besides,” Duck raises an eyebrow, “maybe you better be more focused on your prince.”

“He turned in an hour ago.”

“You sure?”

Something in Duck’s voice sends worry bubbling through his guts, “I’ll check now, just to be positive.”

The bed is empty, the prince nowhere to be found. 

“Shit!” He darts back into the dim hallway, “he’s gone, I’ve got to find him and fast. How, how in name of the deep did you know?”

“Call it a hunch. Indrid likes to play the ‘I know somethin you don’t’ game, but if I let ‘im play it long enough, he let’s somethin important slip out.”

“Shit” Joseph says again, “I, if anyone asks-” 

“I’ll say I ain’t seen you or Barclay since dinner. Ain’t a lie.” Duck winks and Joseph flashes him a quick smile before swimming back into the prince’s rooms. There’s only one door and no secret passageways, (he checked for those himself), so the windows it is. His tentacles can sense Barclay’s trail, faint but unmistakable, and he follows it until he’s almost at the shore. Then it’s gone. 

He spends the next three hours feverishly tracing and retracing his path and keeping his panic to a minimum. When he spies a figure swimming towards him, he backs against a rock, planning to hide until they pass. 

This plan changes the instant he registers who it is. 

“Gaahfuck” Barclay catches his yell quickly and muffles it down to a hiss, “what the hell Joseph, you scared me.”

“And you just made me spend three hours swimming around and wondering if my charge had been abducted. I’d say that makes us even.”

“Didn’t make you do anything.” Barclay grumbles as Joseph turns them towards the palace. 

He sighs, “No, I guess technically you didn’t. But I take my job very, very seriously. If this past week hasn’t demonstrated that sufficiently, maybe tonight has. When you disappear into the night, it’s my duty to follow.” He catches brown eyes studying him warily and adds, “I’m not doing it to be punitive or steal your freedom, or even because their majesties told me to; I’m doing it because you’re under my protection.”

The prince nods but says nothing else until they return to his rooms. 

“Joseph? I’m uh, I’m sorry. For scaring you. You got farther than anyone else did, none of them ever tracked me that well, if they noticed I was gone at all. I figured you wouldn’t notice, so you wouldn’t worry. So, yeah. I’m sorry.” 

Joseph knows a false apology when he hears it, and this is as far from one as a desert is from the deep sea. 

“Apology accepted, my prince. But Barclay” he levels the other mer with a stern gaze, tries not to notice his cheeks tinging pink the longer he holds it, “don’t do it again.”

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

“Are you certain we cannot trade?” Indrid’s fin ripples with agitation as he draws. 

“Nope, Joseph is a good bodyguard.”

“And your crush on him is not governing your answer in the slightest?” Indrid smirks but doesn’t look up. 

“No idea what you’re talking about. Besides, Duck seems nice.” Barclay stretches his other arm, then pauses, “wait, fuck, is he hurting you or something?”

“No. On the contrary, he is annoyingly concerned with my wellbeing.”

“That’s his job.”

“It was the job of all his predecessors as well, but all it took was ordering them around or demanding things in the right tone before they were letting me do as I pleased. I wanted to go to that bar on the edge of town last night and do you know what he did? He told me no, because word had gotten around that it was a spot I frequented and someone there might try to take me hostage.”

“...And?”

“And, and then when I tried to leave anyway he blocked the door with that blasted muscular tail and obnoxiously charming face and wouldn’t move! Then he told me he would if I looked at the future told him we’d both be safe if we went. It turns out he was right, the chances of violence were high.”

“I mean, you don’t like places that loud anyway-”

“It’s the principle of the thing.” Indrid sighs, “so we stayed in and I made him read to me as penance but he was very good at it and I fell asleep within a half hour.”

Barclay is trying hard not to laugh, only because he knows how hard it is for his brother to admit such things. And because, given what else he knows of Duck, the mer might be exactly what his brother needs. If nothing else, Barclay hopes Duck might be observant enough to notice what’s there, not just what his brother tries to toss up like so much sand in hopes of obscuring the truth. 

Indrid goes back to his drawings. Barclay can remember the first time their ministers caught Indrid capturing the futures this way and scolded him, saying the futures to look at were only those the court asked him to, nothing else. Indrid had explained, in a number of different ways, that this was how he could keep the images from overwhelming him, but still they insisted he stop. It wasn’t until he drew on his status and threw a near fit that they relented. That was a lesson he never forgot. 

Barclay hopes todays lessons will be more enjoyable. One of the jobs of a royal bodyguard is to train the princes in self-defense. When Joseph and Duck enter the gym through kelp curtains, Barclay can’t help but be mesmerized by the poise with which his tentacles move across the ground. 

“Good morning, your highness. And to you as well, your highness.” Joseph bows to them each in turn, “Barclay, today you and I will be working with swords while Duck and Prince Indrid work on hand to hand combat.”

“What?” Indrid looks up, red eyes wide, “Barclay is the one who trains hand to hand, not me.”

“Which is exactly why we gotta mix things up. You need all the modes of defense you can get. Unless of course you’re, uh, afraid you can’t take me.” Duck raises an eyebrow at Indrid. 

His brother says nothing, simply grabs his bodyguard and pulls him towards the designated room, calling, “I’ll see you after lunch!”

He and Joseph trade an amused look, then swim to the shelf of blunted training weapons. They’re still bone or sharks tooth, but they’ve been sanded down so no one can get hurt. 

“Now, you mentioned you’ve done some sword work, so am I right that you know how to hold this safely?”

“Yep.” Barclay takes the sword, swimming over to one of the Xs on the floor. 

“Good. To keep things fair for now, I won’t use my tentacles for anything other than swimming.” Joseph takes his position on the opposite X and lifts his sword, “ready?”

Barclay nods and then immediately parries as Joseph lunges with a burst of speed. He recovers quickly, and they begin an elegant back and forth, bubbles and stray sand swirling through the air as they spin and dodge around one another. Joseph keeps up a steady stream of commentary, either positive or instructive, and Barclay is having a hard time ignoring the the thrill he gets every time Joseph pulls off a graceful maneuver. 

When they break, both a little winded, there’s a crash from the next room. 

“Fuck! You okay, your highness?” Duck sounds concerned. 

“Yes, now try that again, I am going to get this right.” 

Joseph glances at him, “Should we-”

“Nah. He kinda sounds like he’s enjoying himself.”

The other mer studies him, “Are you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then I’m going to ask you to stop holding back. I can’t train you effectively if I don’t know what your skill level actually is.”

He’s learned not to insist Joseph is mis-observing things when he’s actually observing them perfectly; the other mer is too sharp for that. 

“I...I just don’t want to hurt you.”

Joseph swims close, sets a hand on his shoulder, “For starters, these are fake swords, and I’m not a bad fighter. But more than that, I suspect there’s a very impressive swordsman under those scales.”

They take their positions and when Joseph gives the signal Barclay attacks with all the force his tail can muster. Joseph dodges easily but makes an approving noise. Then he grins, the expression downright rakish, and attacks with such precision and speed that Barclay barely manages to counter him. 

His focus narrows down to the fight, to watching Joseph’s body for every sign of movement, every twitch of muscle and tentacle. Finally, he sees his opening and drives the other mer backwards until he’s trapped, back to the rocky grey wall. 

“Well” Barclay pants, images of finishing the fight with a kiss banging about his mind, “what do you think of that, Joseph?”

Two tentacles rise, plucking both swords from their fighters hands as his bodyguard murmurs, “I’m impressed.”

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

It’s been a month and a half since Barclay slipped out of his room, and while he’s tried twice more, Joseph has been ready each time. Tonight, however, he’s opting for a new strategy.

He bids the prince goodnight, well aware he’ll swim out the window around moonrise. Then he waits just across from the window, skin and tentacles camouflaged with the rocks. Right on time, Barclay emerges, swimming quickly and quietly towards the shore. Joseph follows at a safe distance, forces himself to focus on the prince’s likely path rather than on how handsome he looks in the moonlight. 

When they reach the shallows Barclay pauses, slips a woven bracelet onto his wrist, and kicks towards the surface. 

Who in the name of the wide ocean gave him legs?

Joseph’s physiology allows him to crawl across the tidepools, keeping his eyes on Barclay as the prince retrieves a set of clothes hidden behind a rock and walks into the small town of Kepler, turning towards a restaurant on the pier. 

Someone had to enchant that bracelet for him, has to know where he’s going while using it. And that someone has to be a mer he trusts. 

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

“Yes. I made him the bracelet. What of it?” Indrid says coolly. 

“Indrid, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” Joseph throws his arms and several tentacles in the air. 

“Hold up” Duck turns to his prince, “Indrid, I’m guessin Barclay probably asked for a reason, right?”

“Indeed, but if I say what it was, you will reveal it to our parents and ministers and take it away from him.”

“I won’t. I promise. I, I just want to help.”

Indrid narrows his eyes. Then, remarkably, he turns to Duck and cocks his head. Duck nods. 

“Very well. And yes, I will grant you that favor you’re about to ask for…”

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

How do humans manage with these things? His tentacles tell him so much more than these useless feet do. 

Joseph makes his wobbly way into Kepler, following Barclay’s trail down the pier, the one he’s walked the last two weeks while Joseph intermittently clung to the nearby wooden supports or fencing to make sure his prince wasn’t in danger. 

Even with Indrid’s explanation, the room he enters is a surprise. Several counters with what he knows humans call “stoves” sitting on them, each manned by one or two people. 

“Hello there” An affable older man in a multi-colored shirt approaches him, “you here for the class?”

“Yes.”

“Great! Hmmm, since you’re new, better pair you with someone, just to be safe. Follow me.”

Joseph isn’t afraid of much. But when he sees who the man intends to pair him with, he almost jumps out the window and flees back to the sea.

“You’re in luck, gonna pair you with my best student. Barclay, this is…”

“Joseph”

“Joseph’s first class with us, so I’m handin him over to you. Make me proud.”

Barclay isn’t blinking, but he manages to say, “sure thing, Thacker.” 

The older man nods, pleased, and makes his way towards the kitchen set-up at the front of the room, greeting people as he goes. 

“What the fuck, Joseph?” Barclay keeps his voice low, “did Janelle give you legs just so you could come drag me out of class?”

“No, no not at all. Indrid did this.”

“What?”

Joseph takes a deep breath, “Barclay, I told you that first week that I’m here to protect you. The way I see it, I’ll do a much better job if I come with you to something that clearly matters to you, rather than force you to hide it from me. No one knows about this but Indrid and Duck.”

Barclay seems stunned, doesn’t say anything as Thacker opens the class and instructs them on how to make something called “marinara” to go on “pasta.” The prince stays silent until they’re working on the cookies the human is also having them make.

“Here, it’s easier to cut them out like this.” He sets his hand atop Joseph’s, pressing and shaking it so the dough comes away from the stone slab in the shape of a heart. 

“Thank you.”

Barclay smiles at him, and the kitchen grows hotter. 

When everything is done cooking, they sit on stools at their station, eating the fruits of their labor. Barclay is animatedly describing the pie they made last week, occasionally stopping to chat with some of the other students. He looks so happy, and Joseph decides he will not tell their majesties about this even if they torture him. Or fire him. 

As they walk back along the beach, Barclay explaining all the things he’s learned about cooking and how much he wishes they’d let him cook at the palace rather than insist it’s beneath his station, the prince takes his hand.

“Humans do this when they’re waling on the beach together. I think it’s to keep them from getting separated if they get hit by a wave.

Joseph is pretty sure that’s not the reason, but he’s not about to say so now. 

They dive back under the waves, removing their charms and swimming side by side in the dark water. Once they’re safely inside, Barclay turns to him, beaming, “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Even if I wasn’t invited?”

“Yeah. It, uh, it means a lot to me that you wanna learn about the stuff that matters to me. That you wanna know the real me.”

“Of course I do.”

Barclay swims dangerously close, “You, uh, do you wanna know another part?”

He nods. Barclay leans in and presses their lips together. Joseph manages to keep his hands himself, but his tentacles have other ideas, curling protectively around the prince’s tail and waist. The instant Barclay pulls back with the most adorable sigh in the sea, Joseph forces them to return to their normal position. 

The prince gives him a final, shy smile and whispers, “‘Night, Joseph. And thanks for everything.”

[celosiaa]

Short sickfic/whump prompt: based on the brief instances when I've heard him sing, I know for a fact that Alex J Newall has quite a good singing voice (+ a really pretty vibrato 😍), and lately I've been thinking a lot about Martin singing to Jon as a way of calming and comforting him when he's ill or upset. So, a hurt/comfort scene involving singing, perhaps? ♥️

I loved this prompt!!! Thank you so much!  Here is a short-ish fic about the transition between the Corruption and the Stranger, and the domains having an impact on Jon’s wellbeing. 

The song in this fic is “Your Song” by Elton John, which you should definitely give a listen while you read!  Please enjoy <3

Just a little longer.

Just hold on a bit, and he’ll be fine.

We’ll be fine.

Sniffling into his sleeve, Martin watches Jon sleep from where he’s curled up with his back against the tree, trying his best not to shiver in the cold he knows is not really there.  After they’d left the sick village, Jon had grown weaker and weaker as they approached the next domain—his steps stumbling, his breathing ragged and worn—until Martin had at last forced them to stop.  Jon had begun rambling, the words so badly slurred together he couldn’t make any of them out, and the ashen tone of his complexion was enough to convince Martin he was on the verge of blacking out.  The way Jon was shaking…he couldn’t help but settle him beneath their blanket, head pillowed on a small pile of their hopelessly wrinkled clothes, though he knows for a fact a steadily climbing fever is wracking his body.

He swipes at his own brow, nose wrinkling against the sweat he finds there, before tipping his head back against the tree in an effort to stem the flow of this sudden congestion.  Best he can figure, Jon had been overwhelmed with…well, whatever goes on inside his head these days, and with him weakened, it left both of them vulnerable to the effects of the Corruption.  What else could possibly explain this illness out of nowhere, and the heat rolling off the man next to him in billows?

Jon shifts a little beneath the blanket, muttering feverishly with furrowed brows—the sight bringing hot, stinging tears into Martin’s eyes at once.

Damned fever, always making me weepy.

He swipes at his eyes in frustration, the buzzing in his sinuses building to a peak as he does—forcing him to turn away to stifle a few miserable sneezes into his sleeve.  It seems his efforts to be quiet were unsuccessful, however—as Jon begins to move about in earnest, letting out a low moan that turns quickly into exhausted coughing.

“Sorry, Jon, I’m sorry,” Martin mutters, letting his knees fall toward him as he reaches for his forehead.

God, that’s horrendous.

He can’t help but wince at the heat he finds there—burning even against his own feverish palm.  The coughing hasn’t stopped either, growing deeper by the moment, enough that it’s starting to sound a bit concerning.

“You alright?” Martin asks against the scratching of his own throat, lightly resting a hand on Jon’s chest.

It seems as though Jon did not hear him, merely continuing to cough wetly until his lungs at last settle down.  When he finishes, he leans back against the makeshift pillow, breathing as deeply as he can, the dampness crackling through his lungs even as he does.

“You okay?” Martin repeats, running a hand up and down Jon’s clammy forearm.

Still, Jon does not reply, merely closing his eyes and muttering—statements, Martin’s sinking heart tells him, all jumbled together in miles and miles of words of pain, of suffering, of sorrow.  It kills him to see Jon carry it all, and know he can do nothing.

Please please wake up

“Jon, can you hear me?” he asks, turning away for a moment to cough into his elbow.  “I’m right here, sweetheart—come back to me if you can.”

Grasping his hand tightly, Martin bends down to press a kiss on Jon’s forehead, willing him to return, to say something, anything—

When he pulls back, the muttering has stopped—though only in voice, for Jon’s lips still move erratically around whatever words the Eye is pouring into his mind.

And now tears have begun to slip down his face.

“Oh, darling,” Martin sighs worriedly, cupping Jon’s face in his hands and brushing the tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

To his dismay, Jon takes a gasping inhale beneath his hands, eyes blown wide and wild, before wrenching forward into devastating, guttural sobs.

“Oh god, oh Jon, come here—”

Martin pulls Jon up into his arms, keeping a gentle hold around his trembling frame, hands wrapping around his torso and resting at the nape of his neck.  In desperation, Jon clutches at Martin’s back, hands fisting into the folds of his jacket as his breaths pick up both shallowness and speed.

“Shh, shh—I’ve got you, darling, just hush now,” Martin soothes shakily, rocking him ever so softly back and forth, one hand reaching up to massage his scalp in a way he knows Jon usually finds relaxing.

But it’s all for naught, as he only continues to sob harder into his shoulder, hands clenching and unclenching in distress.  It dismal, it’s horrid, it’s gut-wrenching—and Martin has no idea how to make it stop.

I’ve got to calm him.

There’s got to be something.

All at once, he is flooded with a memory of the two of them back at the safehouse—Martin in his boxers, Jon in his flannel pyjamas—in the kitchen, laughing and dancing to—

Martin clears his throat, and begins to sing.

It's a little bit funny, this feelin' inside

I'm not one of those who can easily hide

The hands clutching at his jacket begin to loosen, and Martin cannot help but smile.

I don't have much money, but boy, if I did

I'd buy a big house where we both could live

And it’s so clear in his mind’s eye now, that for a moment, he’s sure that Jon is letting him See—the two of them in a proper house, with a dog and a garden and grey in their hair.  It’s the loveliest thing Martin has ever longed for.

So excuse me forgettin', but these things I do

You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue

Jon has fully relaxed in his arms now, his breathing slowing down with every line of the song that Martin knows he’s mixed up the words for. Taking a pause for just a moment, he plants a kiss on the top of Jon’s head, swaying him side to side with the rhythm.

Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean

Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

At first, he thought he’d imagined it—but Jon’s chest moves in a small shudder of a laugh, face still pressed into Martin’s shoulder.

“They really are, you know,” Martin whispers with a grin, and Jon shakes his head—before his shoulders follow, and Martin can feel the tears dampening his shirt beneath him.

“Oh, darling.” Martin sighs, heart breaking at the little gasps coming from beneath the mess of hair.  “Shh, hush now, I’m right here.”

They spend a few moments like this before Martin continues, rocking him back and forth and praying to whatever gods there are that his voice will hold out for just a bit longer.

And you can tell everybody this is your song

It may be quite simple but now that it's done

I hope you don't mind

I hope you don't mind

That I put down in words

How wonderful life is while you're in the world

At last, at long last, Jon picks up his head from Martin’s shoulder—just barely long enough to peck him on the cheek—before he flops back down again.  The joy and relief that washes over Martin now is like nothing he’s ever felt—just grateful that maybe, for now, the worst has passed, and maybe Jon will be able to get some proper rest.

“Here, love—why don’t you lie down, okay?  Just lie down on my lap here, you’ll be alright,” he encourages, gently guiding Jon to do just that.  

For a moment, they remain silent—Martin stroking a hand through Jon’s fever-soaked curls, before he opens his eyes at last. Though green and glowing and so very strange now—they’re still endlessly deep, and so searching, and so very, very Jon.

God, I love you.

Even as he thinks this, Jon grabs his hand, bring it down to rest against his chest without looking away.

“One more time,” he says, voice whittled away into nothing.  “Need you to see.”

“See…?”

“Please.”

And Martin cannot help but comply, as Jon’s eyes fall closed once more.

And you can tell everybody this is your song

All at once, he’s caught up in a vision—and he knows for certain Jon is feeding it to him, letting him in for just a moment—all for the purpose of showing him memories.  Memories of them together.  

Jon’s arm looped through his as they walk through a blustering Scottish afternoon—

It may be quite simple but now that it's done

Endless cups of tea set on Jon’s desk, before they melt into shared cups, shared tea, Jon making it in their kitchen, Martin teasing him about it not being right—

I hope you don't mind

Lying in bed together—

I hope you don't mind

Their lips joined together in an affront to the dark—

That I put down in words

The vision fades, and Martin is left with what’s in front of him—his love, his love, and nothing else.

I love you I love you I love you

Leaning over him with a blushing grin, Martin sings the last words, certain that he’s never sung them with such force of meaning as in this moment.

How wonderful life is while you're in the world

Jon opens his eyes again at last, and—though ill and drained and exhausted beyond all measure—allows his face to melt into a smile, which Martin finds it impossible not to kiss.

“I love you too,” he whispers, before pressing another into his hair.  “Now go to sleep.”

At once, Jon does his best to comply, and Martin is soon to follow—a moment of peace in the growing dark.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group.

(Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, very near miscarriage.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: I’m sorry that it’s been a little dry lately, I haven’t been in the best groove for writing. But I swear this will be the last chapter centred around the med-section for a good long while. We’re going to war from here on out, people!

To those of you who have stuck with this story all this way - I cannot thank you enough!! I LOVE YOU!!! 

Chapter 33

  “That kid you hurled at the wall? Why would he be working with Prince?”

  “He was completely unbothered with what I’d done to him. I mean, he came out of it fine, but he did die for a moment, you’d think he be a little scared. Young people think of themselves as invincible and I figured he just didn’t get how serious it was. But maybe, he saw me being able to do that as something to aspire to? Maybe the awe I saw in his eyes was ambition. Maybe he wants to be a super, and wants it so much that he doesn’t care if some people get hurt along the way.”

  You were back in Marcus’ office, and he was sitting in one of the sofas while you were pacing, trying to sort out what you’d learned, with an uneasy feeling in your gut.

  “Querida, please stop moving, I’m getting nervous just looking at you.”

  “Then stop looking at me.”

  “Like that’s ever gonna happen.”

  You threw him a smile, but it contorted into a grimace when a sudden and very sharp pain in your lower abdomen forced you to double over.

  “Hermosa! What is it?”

  Marcus was on his feet and next to you in no time at all, catching you from hitting the floor as the pain intensified to the point where your legs gave out and started shaking. Your back was throbbing and your whole pelvis felt like it was being burnt from the inside. It was so intense that you couldn’t breathe normally, only suck in shallow gasps in between volleys of pain. Your stomach turned and you threw your head to the side not to vomit all over Marcus.

  “Talk to me, querida!”

  “Medical… baby…”

  It was all you could push out of your mouth through the gasps and kecks, and the overwhelming pain. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before.

  You were only partially aware of being scooped up and carried away, but the rocking motion sent fresh arrows laced with acid shooting through you and you screamed in absolute agony.

  At some point you became aware of other hands on your skin, gloved and practised and efficient. And the light in the ceiling changed, to accommodate the need for excellent visibility for the medical staff. You knew that light a little too well, but it also gave you a small sense of comfort, knowing you were in the hands of people that could help you.

  You heard someone say that they needed to sedate you, or they wouldn’t be able to examine you, and you heard Marcus reply something, but he was too far away, and your own screaming was drowning him out. You wanted to reach for him, to hold him close and take comfort in his warmth and mere presence, but your arms were cramped around your abdomen, trying desperately to protect the little life in there.

  Then he was suddenly kissing your cheek, whispering that he’d be there, and that everything would be okay, but that they had to put you to sleep to protect you from the pain. For some reason, that made your powers flare, and a shockwave burst out of you, sending all of them, including Marcus, hurling across the room and into the surrounding walls.

  The staff were unfazed, quickly scrambling to their feet and returning to the task at hand, and only seconds later, you began to feel the heaviness of drug-induced sleep crash over you.

  As the pain lessened, the tears that had relentlessly filled and spilled from your eyes, completely blocking your view, finally calmed and you turned your head towards where you’d last heard Marcus.

  You saw him coming towards you, looking so scared, and you wanted to touch him. But then the drugs overpowered you, and you drooped away into darkness.

  “It’s okay, mi amor. You’re both okay.”

  When you came to, the first thing you were aware of was that Marcus was lying next to you on the bed, cradling you to him. His breathing was calm and even, but he was awake.

  As the drugs wore off more, you became more lucid, and the memories flooded your mind like a tidal-wave.

  Your hands reflexively found your abdomen, and tried in vain to feel if the baby was still there, from the outside.

  His voice and words washed over you and you could finally breathe again. The tears started up again with the relief, and he kissed your forehead and held you tighter while his hand joined both of yours, trying to reassure yourselves that it really was there and really was fine, even though you couldn’t feel it.

  “What happened?”

  He hesitated, and his voice was repeatedly plagued by tremors as he explained.

  “Your pills… Someone messed with them, to try and make you miscarry.”

  “I took two of them…”

  The sentence echoed through your mind over and over, awakening that beast of maternal instinct inside you, forcing the sadness aside to make way for anger, with the realisation that someone within these walls was capable of something so unimaginably cruel.

  But you were also heartbroken at your own failure to realise the risks of trusting anything given to you that had been made inside this building, right now.

  “And if it had been anyone but you, the baby wouldn’t have made it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t heal yourself, and yet you somehow found a way to turn your ability inwards, to heal the baby, to take back the damage as it was being done by the chemicals. You saved our child, even though it shouldn’t have been possible and even though you were sedated.”

  He sighed and slightly shook his head.

  “I will never be able to express how much I love the bear that lives inside you and makes you the strongest person on this planet.”

  “Well… since I’m never taking another one of those pills again, I guess you’ll get to hear her a lot more in the future.”

  Despite the gravity of the situation, he laughed at that. He needed the positivity more than anything in that moment.

  “Good. I really have missed her.”

  You gave him a minute to just be in that moment of happiness, before bringing him back to all the severity that would accompany the immediate future.

  “Where’s Jack Daven?”

  “They’re looking for him now.”

  “If he had anything to do with this…”

  “I know. I hear you.”

  “I’ve never felt pain like that. It was like it was… shattering my bones and pouring acid into them.”

  “I’ve seen you in pain before, and this was different. The way you screamed… I’ll be able to hear that inside my head for as long as I live.”

  “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

  “This has gone too far, hermosa. It needs to stop, we can’t keep being in this situation where the fucking med-section is more home to us than anything else.”

  “I know. Hey, did you ever get around to calling that realtor?”

  “Really? That’s what you wanna talk about right now?”

  “I need to talk about something to keep my mind off of how stupid I feel.”

  “Why the hell would you feel stupid?”

  “I should have known not to trust anyone, including the people who make those fucking pills. It never even occurred to me that someone could use them to hurt me. A dozen people have access to them during production, it wouldn’t have been that hard to fiddle with a batch. You were right, I haven’t been careful enough. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, mi corazón… None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever think that.”

  You did, and you would, probably for a very long time.

  “Where’s Missy?”

  “With mom. They came to see you earlier, and I explained everything. We agreed that it’s probably best to keep her away from here for now, in case someone decides to try and use her against us. If our enemy’s capable of this, then they’re capable of anything. So, they’re gonna stay away until we’ve solved this. I promised Missy that you’d call as soon as you could, she was really scared for you both.”

  “Yeah, of course. I feel better knowing she’s safe, far away from here.”

  “And, yes, I did call the realtor. He could fit us in on Friday, if we wanted.”

  “That’s good. I feel like we might need to do something normal if we’re gonna be able to keep our heads through all of this.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Um, just one thing, though…”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s today?”

  He cracked a genuine smile with the realisation that some things just never changed.

  “It’s Tuesday, hermosa.”

  “I swear, one of these days, I’m gonna get it right.”

  That made him laugh in earnest, and the sound was the best medication you could have asked for. It made you feel at home, even though you were once again tethered to machines and feeling exhausted.

  “Hi, Mama Bear. Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you.”

  Marcus stopped laughing, and a kind of delighted shock spread across his face when your stomach suddenly growled loudly.

  He repositioned himself so that he could kiss it on top of the covers, and then rested his ear against it while he smiled happily.

  But then a really depressing thought occurred to you.

  “Marcus… we can’t eat from the restaurant any more. As much as I think we can trust Greg, other people have access to the kitchen.”

  That did nothing to deter his growing good mood.

  “Screw it – I’ll cook.”

  “All my six-to-eight portions per meal, every day? Honey, you won’t have time to do anything else.”

  At that moment, the twins walked in for their evening rounds.

  “Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

  “Good, but hungry. Which is a bit of problem, right now.”

  But Marcus was already coming up with a solution.

  “Claire, you have three kids, you’re used to cooking for lots of people, right?”

  He was looking at the twin to the right, and she responded right away.

  “Yeah, sure. Are you thinking you’re gonna boycott the restaurant?”

  “Would you feel up to helping me? I need to be able to help her with other things too.”

  “Of course I would. Anything to prevent something like this shit from happening again. Also, cooking on the clock is so much more fun.”

  “Thank you so much. Our list of trusted individuals is extremely short at the moment.”

  Hold the god damned phone!

  “Marcus, how the hell do you do that?!”

  “Hermosa?”

  “How the fuck did you know that that’s Claire?! It’s driving me insane!”

  He chuckled and held up his hands.

  “Electromagnetism, remember. All humans have their own unique electric signature.”

  “Wha… So, you really have been able to tell them apart this whole time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s just unfair!”

  All three of them just laughed at you before Claire turned to Amanda.

  “Looks like she’s okay, so why don’t we get started on that cooking?”

  “We? He asked you.”

  “And I’m roping you in. Come on. Starving mother over there.”

  “Right.”

  They left and Marcus used his powers to dim the lights, so that he didn’t have to get out of bed. But he stayed fully dressed and on top of the covers, which suddenly really irritated you.

  “Am I on some sort of ‘no touch’ rule with you that I don’t know about?”

  “Huh?”

  You just gestured to his state of dress with your eyebrows raised.

  “Oh. No, not at all.”

  You pushed your eyebrows even further up.

  “You’re not! I’m just… worried.”

  “I’m not asking for sex, Marcus, that would be seriously unwise after almost miscarrying. I’m just asking to be allowed to be close to you again. You’ve kept me at arms-length ever since the incident at the house, and it’s making me feel like I’ve done something terrible to create some sort of precipice between us that you won’t let me…”

  He cut you off by kissing you, warmly, but not heatedly.

  “You’ve done nothing wrong, mi amor. I’m just scared. Scared of draining you, scared of losing you, scared of how badly I need you, every part of you, to the point where I don’t function without you. But there’s no precipice. You’re always allowed to be close to me, if you reach for me, I’ll always welcome you.”

  “Then consider this me reaching for you: Get your ass under these covers and hold me properly.”

  “Don’t worry, mama, it’s coming. Just rest for now.”

  He stepped out of bed and took off all his clothes, except his underwear, before returning to you. You turned on your side, careful to keep the wires that were attached to you from getting tangled or coming lose, and he wrapped his arms around you and tugged you snugly into him. Since the gown was open at the back, you could feel his skin against yours, and it calmed every nerve inside your body better than anything else ever could.

  A tiny current spread along your skin, and he hummed into your neck as the same kind of serenity coursed through him as well.

  Your stomach made an unhappy noise, and his hand came to rub gently at it while he whispered in your ear.

  “Marcus.”

  You’d forgotten to call Missy, but the twins would be back before midnight with food, and you’d have to get up and eat, so you decided to call her then. Right now, you were too tired, and feeling entirely too good, to move a single muscle.

  But, just as sleep was beginning to pull you down, a thought popped into your head, and you couldn’t understand how it hadn’t occurred to you before.

  “Mmm.”

  “What if it’s a whole network?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… The more I think about what Prince said, the more I fear that this is so much worse than just a few people within HQ. He made it sound like there was a network, an organisation to this madness. ‘I don’t think you realise just how many people in this world are interested in levelling the playing-field.’ That’s what he said. Someone got him out of prison without raising any alarms, got him his equipment and my files and… I’m beginning to think that he was working with the Inventor all along. That your capture, and the way those cages were designed to effectively steal your powers, were too similar to Prince’s work. There are too many coincidences, there has to be some connection. And we can’t fight something like that. Especially when we don’t know who might be sympathisers.”

  “Fuck. This is making so much more sense than I’d like to admit.”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  He was quiet for a minute, subconsciously holding you tighter, while his mind worked the problem.

  “If we’re facing an organisation, the only hope we have, is to build one of our own. To equal the strength and cunning we’re facing.”

  “But how do we do that when we don’t know who to trust?”

  “We reveal the ace up our sleeve.”

  “I didn’t know we had one…”

  “We do. It’s just… kinda far up that sleeve.”

  “What is it?”

  “Verity.”

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