#hopefully the kids aren’t too rowdy

[boxwinebaddie]

hey team! lead teaching kindergarten today and had to spend my week doing prep work so i apologize for the slowness! in the meantime, feel free to ask me anything you want in the box! i also have recently been trying to develop some of the other ncu aus so if you have any curiosities surrounding those, i would love an ask! otherwise as always we are ravesey/rmhq so send me anything you like about them ( i got weirdly hyperfixated on ec(lips)e as a song and mv concept for some reason the same way i did w/ late nite bite for a while ) or just say hi to me! asks are open, dms are open! ily and hyh!

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Go in Shadows

Pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Alcohol use, drunken behaviour, referenced drug use, angst, eventual smut. Word count: ~8.5k

Summary: Summers spent with her best friend, Helaena, are the highlight of her year. However, a week-long stay at her place does not go as she expects it to when surrounded by one Targaryen brother that she pines for unrequitedly, and another that can't seem to stand her.

Author's note: For @lauraneedstochill. Thank you to @aegonx for giving this a once over for me before I kicked it out of the door. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

The grass tickles delicately at the backs of her bare thighs, causing her to squirm and change position, pulling the hem of her floral summer dress lower as she crosses her legs. It’s a hot and sunny Friday afternoon in July, and she’s making the most of her four day working week by spending her day off in the park with her best friend, Helaena.

Summer has always been her favourite time of year, from the six week long holidays of secondary school to the three month university breaks, and now the stolen afternoons and all too brief weekends of the working week. Helaena has been at her side for all of them. Summer is their time, a season in which their friendship has always thrived, fortified beneath a sun that never sets.

Helaena pauses, keeping the daisy chain she’s making in her hands still as she leans forward ever so slightly, watching intently at the wasp that buzzes around the open bottle neck of Koppaberg Cider that rests beside her, the heat of the day causing droplets of moisture to sweat from the glass.

“That’s going to drown in your cider, if you aren’t careful,” she warns her.

“Mmm,” Helaena muses dreamily, her eyes never leaving the wasp. “It wants the sugar.”

She watches for a few more moments, before it flies away, and then her attention turns back to her daisy chain, her numb nail piercing through the stem of the flower, before threading another through.

“Did your annual leave get approved for next week?” Helaena asks, blue eyes lifting from the floral chain in her hands to look at her hopefully.

“Yeah, I’m all set,” she says excitedly, before taking a swig of her own cider, relishing the way the sweet, berry flavour fizzes against her tongue. “So, what’s the plan?”

It’s not a question she really even needs to ask. It’s the same every year; Alicent takes a week-long trip to Oldtown to visit her father, Otto, and ever since Helaena was considered old enough to no longer accompany her, she stays behind, and the kids are left with a free house. She stays for the entire week, the house large enough that it feels like a holiday without needing to leave King’s Landing. They enjoy seven unsupervised days of swimming in the pool, raiding the fridge, and the inevitable rowdy and out of control parties that Helaena’s older brother, Aegon, insists upon throwing.

And therein lies the real reason she’s asking; to check which of the brothers will be in attendance. She has fancied Aegon for as long as she can remember, though he has never given her a second look beyond viewing her as his younger sister’s best friend. She exists in his shadow, laughing at all of his jokes, living for every thousand watt smile he casts her way, overlooking his often drunken, reckless behaviour, and pretending she doesn’t feel a burning sense of envy at the seemingly never ending rotation of girls he goes out with. His shadow seems to be where she is destined to remain forever, desperate to experience the warmth of his attention turned to her even once. The unrequited feelings weigh heavy upon her heart, tormenting her with soaring hope and devastating reality in equal measure.

As if able to read her mind, Helaena sighs. “Aegon’s going to be there…and Aemond too.”

She groans at this. Helaena’s younger brother, another bane of her existence, though for a completely different reason to Aegon. Aemond genuinely seems to loathe her, actively going out of his way to avoid her, refusing to even look at her if they’re in the same room. His responses are curt, bordering upon rudeness when she has tried previously to engage him in conversation, and so she has given up, taking to ignoring him just as he does to her, though it does not come as naturally to her as it does him. She feels her skin prickle in his presence, fidgeting uncomfortably at the shift in energy in the room whenever he enters. Back in secondary school, she had made an attempt to forge a bond with him, by approaching him with the history essay she was due to hand in, and asking for him to take a look at it in case there were any improvements he thought she could make.

Aemond had scoffed as he’d looked it over, sliding the papers back across the table towards her with a harsh flick of his wrist. “Derivative,” he’d commented dismissively. “The point you’re trying to make is too diffuse for you to adequately summarise it. If you were to improve it, you’d simply have to rewrite it.”

She had walked away holding back tears, bitterly regretting her decision to attempt to extend an olive branch. When the essay had been given back to her she had been awarded an A grade, which made Aemond’s comments even more baffling to her.

“Great,” she says with a roll of her eyes, “assuming he’ll have Alys to keep him busy?”

Helaena gives a solemn shake of her head. “They aren’t together anymore, so please try to be nice to him.”

She looks at Helaena incredulously. “Be nice to him?! Hel, Aemond hates me!”

“He doesn’t,” she replies with a gentle certainty.

“You don’t know that,” she huffs, swigging from her cider bottle once more.

“I do, actually,” Helaena utters, before turning her attention back to her daisy chain.

She feels that Helaena infuriates her almost as much as her brothers do sometimes. Bloody Targaryens.

A week later, her out of office is on and her bags are packed.

Helaena takes her bags, depositing them into an entryway closet to deal with later, the moment she steps through the door of the house, ushering her into the kitchen.

“Want to chop some stuff for me?” She asks. “I’m going to make a jug of Pimm’s for us all to drink by the pool.”

“Us all?” She asks, moving towards the chopping board on the kitchen side, where an assortment of strawberries, mint and cucumber has been set out, ready to be cut up.

“Yeah,” Helaena says, opening a cupboard and rummaging inside of it. “Me, you…Aemond, and Aegon…Aegon’s friend…”

Helaena’s voice tapers off as she pulls a glass jug from a shelf, her gaze turning towards the kitchen doorway.

She looks up from where she has been quartering a strawberry, her grip around the knife handle tightening subconsciously as she takes in the sight of Aegon standing there. But it’s not Aegon that is the issue, it’s the pretty brunette that’s standing next to him.

“Just wondering what’s taking so bloody long with the Pimm’s?” He asks, glancing between her and Helaena. “Are you fermenting the gin from scratch?”

“Hel was waiting for me to arrive,” she offers as a meek explanation, feeling her skin grow warm as he looks at her. “Hi, by the way.”

He fires off a mock salute at her, the casual gesture making her insides wither with disappointment. She was a fool to have expected anything more.

“I’m Cassandra,” the girl standing next to him pipes up with a cheerful smile, “nice to meet you.”

Aegon startles, as if suddenly realising she’s there, turning to look at Cassandra quickly before facing back towards her and Helaena.

“Oh yeah, Cass is gonna be staying for the week. Her brother’s brewery is supplying us with the kegs for Saturday.”

Cassandra nods enthusiastically, her eyes bright. “Royce owns Storm’s End brewery, he’s gonna sort us out with the beer for the party.”

“Lovely,” she says with a tight smile, lowering her eyes back to the chopping board and slicing into a cucumber with more aggression than is necessary. 

“Why don’t you go and get comfy by the pool, Cass,” Aegon says, ushering her away with a smack on the bottom. “I’ll make sure these two hurry the fuck up with the drinks.”

Helaena’s eyes narrow once Cassandra is out of earshot, looking at Aegon as she empties a full bottle of Pimm’s into the glass jug. “You’re sleeping with one of the Baratheon sisters to get free beer? That’s low even for you.”

Aegon shrugs with a smirk. “I’m not above schmoozing for booze, Hel.”

“You’re a pig,” she retorts softly, moving to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of lemonade. “What about what happened with Floris and Aemond?”

Aegon snorts derisively, leaning against the doorframe. “They only kissed.”

“And then she stalked him afterwards…”

“The week of a thousand texts!”

“Fifty seven to be precise. You remember, right?” She asks, turning to her friend for back up.

“Yeah, didn’t Aemond ghost her because she used the incorrect version of ‘your’ in a message?”

Helaena nods. “Yes, that was mean, and she didn’t deserve that. But sending someone so many texts when they clearly aren’t going to reply is a bit…” She wrinkles her nose. “...overbearing.”

“And she left him a five minute long voicemail,” Aegon titters.

“Yeah, you’re a pig,” Helaena insists, sloshing lemonade into the Pimm’s.

“Oh well. Hurry up!” Aegon demands with a clap of his hands, before walking away.

She hands Helaena the chopping board, now laden with chopped up garnishes and watches as she scrapes it into the jug, before stirring it.

Looking up, Helaena takes in the pained expression of her friend, her face softening. “Trust me, as Aegon’s sister, he’s not worth it.”

“I’m fine,” she quips unconvincingly, moving away to fetch glasses from another cupboard. “He’s just messing around.”

“I just think if you’re looking for someone who genuinely cares about you, then you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“What does that mean?” She asks, taking down five glass tumblers from the shelf.

“Just…don’t close yourself off to other possibilities.”

Helaena takes the jug and heads outside to the pool, before she has a chance to respond.

Always so cryptic. It’s infuriating.

To her horror, as she heads out into the garden, glasses gripped between her fingers, Helaena has set herself up on the sun lounger on the furthest end, leaving the only one free between her and Aemond.

She sets the glasses down on the patio table, next to the Pimm’s jug and takes a moment to steel herself, before heading over. Wordlessly, she lays down on the sun lounger, trying to suppress the unease that ripples beneath her skin at the imposing figure of Aemond next to her. His sun lounger has its back propped up, and he sits bolt upright, long silver hair pulled up into a bun and a pair of black Ray Bans perched upon the bridge of his aquiline nose as he reads a philosophy book.

Pretentious twat.

“Aemond, pour us all some Pimm’s,” Helaena says lazily, leaning back on her lounger and propping an arm above her head.

His brow furrows momentarily before he responds. “Why do I have to do it?”

“Because you haven’t done anything to help out with our gathering yet.”

“It’s your gathering,” he retorts, “I just happen to live here. I’m not an active participant.”

She sighs, not wanting to listen to any more of their bickering. “It’s fine, I’ll do it.”

“No, I will,” Aemond snaps, standing abruptly and setting his book down, before storming over to the table.

“Christ, what a prick,” she mutters to herself as she watches him go.

An hour later, she has changed into her bikini, and is laying on her front on her sun lounger, the remnants of her glass of Pimm’s turning warm in the sunshine beside it, as she loses herself in a historical fiction novel.

She can feel the heat prickling at her skin, and knows she ought to have put suncream on before coming back outside, she’ll burn if she continues to lay there. Sighing, she places her book on the patio next to her glass and sits up, reaching for the bottle which lays discarded beneath where Helaena is currently laying, dozing beneath her makeshift blanket of a beach towel.

She applies the lotion generously to her face, arms, legs and the exposed parts of her torso, stopping when she realises she is unable to reach her back. Looking over at Helaena, she can see she is still fast asleep, lulled into unconsciousness by warmth and alcohol.

Aegon and Cassandra sit by the edge of the pool with their feet submerged, talking and laughing as they drink what’s left of the Pimm’s directly from the jug, passing it back and forth. She would honestly rather die than go over there and risk the embarrassment of asking either one of them to help her.

Grunting with the strain of stretching her arms as far behind her as they’ll go, she attempts to spread sun cream on the rapidly reddening flesh of her shoulder blades.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Aemond sighs exasperatedly, slamming his book closed. “Give it here!”

“What?” She freezes, embarrassment enveloping her like a shroud.

“Insulting as it is that you would rather attempt to wrench your arms free of their sockets than ask me for help, I can’t help but find your pathetic little display highly distracting. Give me the sun scream, I’ll do it for you.”

She is stunned into silence by the offer, her stomach erupting into nervous flutters at the idea of someone who hates her so much actually offering to help her, and with something so intimate too. She passes him the bottle, praying he doesn’t notice the way her hand trembles, doing her best to avoid the piercing gaze of his singular seeing eye.

“Turn around then,” he commands, after a few moments of silence.

“Oh…right, of course….yeah!” 

A fresh wave of humiliation washes over her, and she finds herself grateful for the opportunity to face away from him as she repositions, glad that she doesn’t have to see the hands of her best friend’s petulant younger brother moving over her body.

Her breath hitches when his fingers make first contact with her skin, though she does her best to suppress the accompanying squeak of surprise that had wanted to accompany it. His touch is gentler than she had anticipated, soft and careful as he works to spread the cream evenly across her back and shoulders. She feels herself relax, nervous tension evaporating as she focuses on the press of his fingertips against her flesh.

“How is life at the library treating you?” He asks casually, as he applies more cream to his fingers, spreading it across the lower part of her back.

“How do you know I work at the library?” She asks, surprised by his knowledge of her job.

“Your best friend is my older sister,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, though what he says next is expressed with hesitant shyness. “...and I walk past it sometimes…see you in there…”

“Ah,” is all she’s able to reply, shocked but also annoyed with herself. This is the most Aemond has ever spoken to her, and she’s so rattled by it she can’t reciprocate the effort within the conversation he’s trying to strike up.

When she hears the cap on the sun cream bottle click closed, she finally seizes the opportunity to speak. “I was sorry to hear about you and Alys,” she says softly, “you guys were cute together.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he tells her cooly, tossing the bottle onto the towel next to her before standing up and walking back inside.

She watches him go over her shoulder, silently cursing herself for her thoughtlessness in bringing up such a sensitive topic.

Aemond avoids her for the rest of the day, and much of the next, until the following evening when Aegon and Helaena decide that a barbecue is a good idea.

The sky is a muted blue, the final vestige of daytime clinging to it, delaying the inevitable setting of the sun, as the air hangs thick with humidity, exacerbated from the smoke that billows upwards from the barbecue.

“Is there room for my veggie sausages?” Helaena asks, peering over Aegon’s shoulder as he stands at the sizzling grill, a bottle of beer in one hand and tongs in the other, turning pieces of chicken.

“Yeah, in the bin,” he replies smugly, before swigging from his beer bottle.

She can’t help but giggle quietly at the remark as she stirs dressing into the bowl of salad that rests upon the patio table.

Helaena tuts, holding out the packet towards her older brother. “Don’t be selfish!”

“Ugh, fine,” Aegon scoffs with a roll of his eyes, setting his bottle down and snatching the packet from her.

She watches as he moves the meat on the grill to one side, before unceremoniously dumping out the sausages into the empty space. She huffs a laugh, shaking her head at his immaturity. 

Placing the salad bowl in the centre of the table, she’s about to reach for a packet of bread rolls to open, when Cassandra breezes out into the garden, laden with plates and cutlery.

“Why do you have six of everything?” Helaena asks suspiciously, fiddling with the corkscrew in the top of a bottle of wine. “There are only five of us.”

Cassandra gives a dismissive shrug. “Must have been miscounted,” she says, before joining Aegon at the barbecue, fussing at him for overcooking everything.

By the time they all sit around the table, a stony faced Aemond now having joined them, she is impressed by the spread that they have managed to pull together. Chicken, burgers and kebabs sit piled on a platter, though slightly burned. Salad, cold pasta, bread and dips accompany it all, and Helaena has ensured everyone has a glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc.

The sky has begun to darken, a purple aura surrounding the burned orange glow that hangs low on the horizon, a pretty contrast to the fairy lights that are strung along the fence and overhead of where they sit.

She is trading the salad bowl for the plate of rolls with Helaena when Cassandra glances at her phone, so she barely notices when she excuses herself from the table with a flippant “be right back!”

A few moments later, she almost chokes on her wine, setting her glass down heavily upon the table and pressing her palm to her chest as she swallows forcefully. 

Cassandra has reappeared in the garden, this time with her sister, Floris, at her side.

“Oh god,” Helaena mutters under her breath, setting down her knife and fork.

Considering the way Aegon’s eyes visibly widen, it’s clear he doesn’t know that Cassandra had planned this.

Aemond sits with his back facing the patio door, so is the last to turn to look.

“Room for one more?” Floris asks with a bright smile.

Aemond whips back around in his seat, fury reflected in his right eye as he glares at Aegon, his voice dripping with venom. “Absolutely not.”

Aegon holds up his hands defensively, shoulders pulling up towards his ears. “I didn’t know!”

Ignoring the obvious tension in the air, Cassandra returns to her place next to Aegon, while Floris plops down into the empty seat between her and Aemond. She is sure she sees him physically recoil from her.

“Cassandra told me all about you and Alys,” Floris coos softly, placing her hand over the top of Aemond’s, “I thought perhaps you’d need a friend.”

“You’re not my friend,” Aemond glowers, snatching his hand back.

“Yeah, he doesn’t have any,” Aegon laughs, draping his arm around the back of Cassandra’s chair.

“Stop it,” Helaena hisses at him.

“You know, I think you’re being kind of rude,” Floris says to Aemond, “I’m just trying to be nice.”

“You know what I think is rude?” He spits back. “Not being able to take a fucking hint, turning up to someone’s house uninvited. That is rude.”

“I invited her,” Cassandra cuts in, though she shrinks back the moment that Aemond directs his angry gaze towards her.

“And who the fuck are you?! A vapid little nobody that my brother has decided is his flavour of the week.”

“Are you going to let him speak to me like that?!” Cassandra demands, looking expectantly at Aegon.

Aegon cringes outwardly, pulling his arm back from Cassandra’s chair. “This doesn’t really involve me, to be honest,” he tells her awkwardly.

“God, you’re pathetic!” She seethes, standing abruptly, causing the legs of her chair to scrape loudly against the patio. “Come on, Floris, we’re leaving.”

Floris stands, scowling down at Aemond as she does so. “You know, for someone who has—” she gestures towards his face, pointing specifically at his prosthetic eye, “you’d think you’d be more grateful for the attention.”

She flounces off alongside her sister, leaving the four of them in stunned silence. Helaena looks as though she wants to burst into tears, Aegon stares blankly across the table, fingers spinning his wine glass around by its stem, while Aemond quietly seethes with rage.

“Well, that was awkward,” Aegon finally says, reaching for more chicken.

The slamming of Aemond’s fist upon the table causes them all to startle, the force of it rattling the plates and glasses. They all look at him, wide eyed, as he stands up silently and walks back into the house.

She feels awful for the way Floris had spoken to him, and is desperate to make up for her earlier blunder, after fumbling their conversation so horribly. She can’t stand the thought of him being alone and upset, when both of his siblings are clearly in no position to offer comfort.

“I’ll go after him,” she says softly, rising from her seat and walking back into the house.

She finds Aemond in the foyer, about to head upstairs. 

“Wait,” she calls out, “I just wanted to see if you’re okay?”

“Never better,” he says sullenly, though he pauses and turns to face her.

“What Floris said was really uncalled for. Please don’t listen to her,” she tells him sympathetically, her eyes pleading as she looks up at him.

“I said I’m fine,” he insists, refusing to look her in the eye.

“You don’t have to pretend, it’s okay not to–”

“What are you, a fucking therapist?!” He rages, causing her to shrink back.

“No, I was just trying to make you feel better,” she whispers meekly.

“Well, don’t,” he snaps back, “I don’t need your faux sympathy or your positivity buzzword bullshit.”

Her brow furrows as she feels annoyance prickle at her. None of this is her fault, she’s just trying to offer support, yet despite that he is lashing out at her anyway. Her mouth opens, the words leaving it before she has the chance to consider them. “You are such a miserable fucking twat, no wonder Alys finished with you!”

She regrets what she said the moment she sees the fury blaze within his right eye. Instinctively, she steps away, her back hitting the wall as he advances towards her. And then his lips are crushing against hers, causing her to squeak in surprise as he kisses her hungrily, his large hand cupping her jaw. She grips the front of his shirt, his fists balling into the material, unsure of if she wants to pull him closer or push him away. But she finds herself responding, her mouth moving against his, lips parting to allow his tongue entrance, letting it lick against hers.

Nervousness and excitement swirl like a maelstrom in her belly. She could never have anticipated this. What the hell are they doing? Aemond hates her, doesn’t he?

When they finally part for air, their breathing is ragged. Aemond stares down at her, lips parted and pupil dilated. “Do you want to come upstairs?” He asks lowly.

The question makes her heart feel as though it has stopped beating. It’s one thing to kiss Helaena’s younger brother, but another entirely to entertain the idea of sleeping with him.

She falters, trying her best to speak coherently. “I…um…I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

Aemond pulls back, his face hardening back to blank stoicism in an instant. She immediately feels the loss of him, the space that his warmth had previously occupied suddenly feeling chilly.

“Of course,” he mutters darkly, “I would hate to cut into the time you spend following my brother around like a pathetic dog.”

The statement makes her feel as though she has had a bucket of ice water thrown over her, hurt and humiliation spreading hotly throughout her body, as tears sting at the rims of her eyes. He disappears up the stairs before she can say anything in response, leaving her alone in the foyer to compose herself, wondering what on earth just happened.

She scrubs her hands over her face, drawing in a few steadying breaths, before turning to head back outside. Helaena is already in the kitchen, wrapping plates of food in cling film. She looks up when she sees her, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Need any help?” She asks.

“No, I’m all good. There’ll be leftovers in the fridge, if you want any.”

She utters a quiet thanks, before stepping outside, her eyes immediately drawn to Aegon who sits at the edge of the pool, paddling his feet, illuminated by only the pool lamps and soft fairy lights that are strung up around the garden. The sky hangs velvety black above them, stars twinkling in the distance.

Kicking off her flip flops, she sits beside him, dunking her own feet into the coolness of the water.

“Cassandra seemed pretty angry with you,” she says gently.

“Yeah,” Aegon replies, keeping his eyes fixed on the beer bottle he has clasped in both hands. “She’ll be back though.”

“You seem certain of that.”

“Well, I am irresistible,” he says, looking up at her with a grin. “And she’s left all her stuff here…”

She chuckles softly, facing forward again, a thousand things rushing through her mind that she wants to say to Aegon. Tonight couldn’t possibly get any messier, so why not speak her mind?

“Aegon…” she begins, unable to look at him, knowing the moment she does, all of her thoughts will unravel. “I think you know how I feel about you, why have we never…why won’t you…”

She sighs in frustration, unable to finish her train of thought, unsure of what it is she even wants to say. She dares to cast him a sideways glance and sees him anxiously chewing his lip, his thumbs picking at the label on the neck of the bottle.

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it,” he finally admits, “you’re gorgeous. But you and I are never going to happen.”

She braces herself for the impact of the inevitable pain in her chest, but it never comes. Instead, she feels lighter. The final piece of closure she needs, permission to move on from the “what if” that has haunted her teenage years and entire adult life so far. Yet she cannot help her curiosity at his response.

“Why not?” She asks, turning to look at him.

He lifts his head, meeting her eye. “I said I wouldn’t, I made a promise.”

“To who?” She asks, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Aegon! You need to help me load the dishwasher,” Helaena calls out from behind them.

Aegon sighs, moving to stand, muttering “Christ, her last slave must have died of exhaustion” to himself as he walks away, leaving wet footprints on the patio behind him.

She is frustrated that Helaena interrupted them before Aegon could answer her, her curiosity piqued almost unbearably. As Aegon approaches Helaena, she hears her chastising him in a hushed tone, Aegon’s own defensive retort is also much quieter than his usual manner of speaking. She wonders what they’re arguing about, but quickly dismisses it. There has been enough conflict for one day.

Her thoughts drift back to Aemond and the kiss they had shared. She can still feel his lips lingering against hers if she focuses hard enough upon it. It had felt nice, she had kissed the man who hated her and actually enjoyed it. Then straight afterwards he had reminded her why she usually works so hard to avoid him. It was a fluke, not worth making a big deal of. She certainly wouldn’t be telling Helaena about it.

The following afternoon, her and Helaena laze around on beach towels that are laid upon the perfectly manicured lawn of the back garden, enjoying the warmth of the midday sun upon their skin.

As Aegon had predicted, Cassandra had shown back up at the house that morning, and their enthusiastic reconciliation had been what had prompted her and Helaena’s decision to relocate to the garden. Aemond hasn’t bothered to come back downstairs since insulting her the previous evening.

Helaena lays on her front, legs bent at the knee and ankles crossed. She plucks a foil packet from beneath her towel and tears it open, pulling out a blue and green gummy worm. She dangles it towards her, the hint of a smile upon her lips.

“Want to go halves?” She asks.

“On a sweet?!”

“An edible!”

“Oh Christ…no!”

“Suit yourself,” Helaena says with an easy shrug, stretching the worm between her teeth as she bites off the end.

“Think I need to keep a clear head, especially after last night.”

“Mmm,” Helaena concurs, chewing and swallowing her mouthful of gummy. “I saw you talking to Aegon. Please tell me you aren’t still pining after him?”

“No, actually,” she says honestly, “I think last night was the closure I finally needed.”

“Good,” Helaena says, eyeing her carefully. “So what’s really bothering you?”

She sighs, knowing there’s no point denying it. Helaena is too intuitive for that.

“I…um…Aemond and I…we kissed…”

Nervously, she looks over at her friend, awaiting her angry reaction. However, instead of the scowl she’d expected, Helaena is smiling.

“And…?” She asks excitedly.

Why is she not more surprised by this? Shouldn’t she be annoyed?

“And nothing. I insulted him, he kissed me out of anger, then he insulted me when I wouldn’t sleep with him. He’s been sulking in his room ever since.”

“Go and make him apologise,” Helaena urges her.

“Why should I? He owes me an apology, he should come to me.”

“That’s not Aemond’s style. You’re both as stubborn as each other. Just go up to his room!”

“Why are you so eager for me to make up with him?”

“Because…” Helaena trails off, and for a moment she thinks she’s lost her train of thought, until she holds up the rest of the gummy worm with a smile. “Because I want to finish this and you’re harshing my buzz!”

Charming.

She has a point though, she supposes. She has made amends with one brother this week, it wouldn’t hurt to repair things with the other too.

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” she says with a sigh, standing up and brushing herself off.

As she ascends the stairs towards the upper level of the house, it’s quiet, save for the soft sounds of music and Cassandra’s giggles coming through Aegon’s closed bedroom door. She pauses as she reaches Aemond’s room, her heart hammering in her chest, and nausea swirling in her gut as she stands outside, desperately trying to steel herself to knock.

What would she say? Would he even want to speak to her?

She takes a deep breath, attempting to push through the anxiety and knocks softly. She hears shuffling from the other side, before the door pulls slowly open. Aemond’s long silver hair is loose, and he’s dressed in a plain black t-shirt and black jogging bottoms. He looks effortlessly flawless, despite how casually he’s dressed.

Has he always looked this good? How had she never noticed before?

He bows his head slightly when he sees it’s her, a flicker of sadness briefly visible in his eye before he casts his gaze downward.

“Can I come in?” She asks softly.

He nods, stepping back to allow her in, closing the door behind her.

She’s never been in Aemond’s room before. It’s flooded by natural light from the large bay windows, and everything is immaculately neat and tidy, from the orderly shelves of books, to how taut his bedsheets are pulled against the mattress. Everything has its place.

“I owe you an apology,” she begins, turning to face him.

His eyebrows raise, eye widening in surprise. “Me?”

She nods. “I should never have pried into your personal life, what happened between you and Alys is your business and I had no right to ask about it or pass comment on it. I’d really like it if we could just forget what happened yesterday and start again.”

“What if I don’t want to forget about it?” He asks, stepping closer.

Her heart sinks, disappointment making her shoulders sag. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head, looming over her, his breath ghosting against her skin as he speaks. “There’s a particular moment that I’m very keen to remember.”

Her skin grows warm, her breath hitching as he reaches up, his fingertips ghosting against the side of her neck. “Or are you still chasing after my brother like a pathetic little bitch?”

This time his words don’t offend, instead they send a shiver up her spine, her mouth going dry as his eye bores into hers.

“N–no,” she stammers, her pulse racing as his hand rests against her neck, his stare dark and intense. “I don’t like him like that anymore. I think I’d known that for a while, but him telling me it was never going to happen helped me to realise that.”

“Mmmm,” Aemond hums softly, leaning in, “I’m glad that Aegon is a man of his word.”

His lips ghost against hers, but she freezes as his words echo in her mind alongside his brother’s.

I’m glad that Aegon is a man of his word.

I said I wouldn’t, I made a promise.

She pulls back sharply, brow furrowed as she stares at Aemond suspiciously. “Was it you that Aegon made a promise to, to never try anything with me?”

Aemond nods, reaching for her again, sighing as she steps away. “It was years ago. I made him promise me he’d leave you alone, because well…I like you, and he’s not good enough for you.”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief, her voice a tight sounding whisper as she struggles to keep her emotions in check. “You had no right to do that…”

“I was protecting you,” he says softly, “he wouldn’t have been good to you.”

“And you would have?!” She responds, voice wavering around the rapidly forming lump in her throat. “You’ve spent years ignoring me, only interacting to be hateful. How the fuck is that protecting me?!”

“You don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t understand!” She cries, her chest tightening as hot tears roll down her cheeks. “If you liked me you should’ve said something, what you’ve done instead is manipulative and cruel.”

She pushes past Aemond, slamming his bedroom door behind him, before heading to Helaena’s room where she’s been staying since she arrived. Curling up on her side of the bed, her shoulders shake as she sobs quietly into the pillow, a hot swirl of anger, sadness and betrayal coursing through her body.

How dare he? How fucking dare he? What might’ve been if she’d just been given a chance with Aegon? What might’ve been if Aemond had voiced his feelings for her sooner? He had robbed her of the opportunity to find out any of it.

When the door eventually creaks open, she is unsure of how many hours she has been laying there. She has cried herself out, a hollow feeling having settled in her chest, numbness replacing the hurt and anger she’d felt previously.

“Hey,” Helaena says softly, the mattress dipping slightly as she sits upon the edge of it. “Brought you a sandwich, cheese and Marmite.”

“What time is it?” She asks groggily, pulling herself into a sitting position, as she gratefully accepts the plate from her.

“Just gone six. Figured there’s no point in us all doing dinner together tonight…”

“Sorry,” she whispers sadly, “I’ve fucked this whole week up.”

“You haven’t,” Helaena says earnestly, “none of this is your fault. Aemond has just chosen the worst possible way to tell you he has feelings for you.”

“You know?!” She asks, the warmth of embarrassment heating the apples of her cheeks.

“Please don’t be upset. Aemond’s always had a thing for you, I’ve always known. For what it’s worth, I think you guys would be great together.”

“Great together?! No offense, Hel, but your brother’s a tool.”

“He can be, yeah. But you’re more alike than you think. You just need to see beneath the tough guy exterior.”

She shakes her head. “Until this week he’s either ignored me or been awful to me.”

“Aemond isn’t the best at expressing how he feels, but he’s trying. I’ve gotten tired of watching him pine for you for so long, and make himself miserable never doing anything about it. I told him that if he didn’t say anything this week then I’d tell you myself.”

Her eyes widen, the confession taking her breath away. “Hel…”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be meddling, and I know Aemond shouldn’t have interfered with Aegon. But honestly, you can do so much better.”

“And you think Aemond is better?”

“He could be, if you gave him the chance.”

“All we do is argue.”

“Because you’re so alike! You just need to listen to each other.”

She chews her lip, mulling over Helaena’s words. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out. But not tonight. Tonight my only interests are this sandwich and whatever crap we can find on Netflix.”

“Sounds good to me,” Helaena replies happily.

They spend the rest of the evening curled up in Helaena’s bed, watching a nature documentary that they eventually fall asleep in front of.

It’s early when she awakens. She can’t see the time, but can tell from the pastel hue of the lightened sky visible through the window, where she and Helaena had fallen asleep without closing the curtains, that sunrise wasn’t long ago.

Eager to stretch her limbs, having been cooped up in the same room for more than twelve hours, she disentangles herself from her still sleeping friend, and pads downstairs. 

The aroma of brewing coffee lures her towards the kitchen, but she stops in her tracks when she spots Aemond, his back to her as he stands in front of the coffee maker. For a moment she considers just going back upstairs, until he turns and sees her.

Wordlessly, they stare at each other, time feeling as though it stretches on for an eternity, before finally he speaks.

“Coffee?”

“Um…sure.”

He nods, turning to grab the espresso cup from the drip tray before sliding it across the kitchen island to her. “Take this one.”

She utters a quiet thanks, perching on a bar stool as she wraps her hands around the warmth of the small ceramic vessel. The only sounds in the kitchen are that of Aemond preparing another coffee for himself. She’s grateful they both have something other than each other to focus on, as truthfully she doesn’t know what to say.

“Valar morghulis was how they said it in Valyria of old. All men must die. And the Doom came and proved it true,” he recites as he turns back to her, placing his own coffee upon the counter.

“What?” Her brows pull together in confusion as she looks up at him from her cup.

“You wrote that in the history essay that you shared with me back when we were at school. That particular line has always stuck with me. I thought it was inspired.”

Her heart feels as though it skips a beat, realising he has remembered such a small detail, but it is contradictory to the reality of his reaction to it. “You said it was derivative.”

“That was unkind. I regret it,” he tells her sincerely. “Truthfully, it was brilliant. I’ve never read anything like it.”

“Why were you so rude about it then?”

“An attempt to push you away, I suppose.”

“Why?”

He sighs, taking a long sip of his coffee, looking pensive as he casts his eye away from her, choosing his words carefully. “You’re too good for Aegon, he has spent his entire life failing upwards, being given things he hasn’t earned, taking what I work hard for. I couldn’t let him take you too. But you’re also too good for me. I already thought you were perfect, and was trying so hard to keep you at arm’s length. I think I fell harder for you after reading your essay, and that scared me. You deserve better than me, but I can’t seem to let you go. I lost interest in Floris because she wasn’t as intelligent as you are, and Alys ended things with me because she could tell how hung up on you I am.”

She groans exasperatedly. “Am I seriously the last person to know that you have feelings for me?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve spent a long time hiding it, but now my cards are fully on the table. I’m being as honest as I can be. I didn’t intend for you to ever find out. I wanted to get over you. I didn’t think that you’d be interested.”

“Did it never occur to you to ask?”

“I’m asking now.”

“I…I’ve never thought about you that way, to be honest, not until you kissed me…”

“...and then?”

“I think I could…”

“So is that a yes?”

“You’ve not actually asked me anything…”

He rolls his eye. “I’m pouring my heart out here. Meet me halfway.”

She huffs a soft laugh. “I think we should take things slowly. Let me get to know the Aemond that’s not a massive arsehole. Can you handle that?”

“I can handle that.”

The air feels lighter somehow as they both sip their coffee, a peacefulness having settled over the two of them, rooted in mutual hope and excitement.

Over the next couple of days, her and Aemond spend more time together. He makes more of a conscious effort to include himself when she and Helaena hang out in communal spaces. They stay up all night talking, and when they’re alone together he intertwines his fingers with hers, asking her to read to him as he rests his head in her lap. They never go further than a few soft kisses, but she finds herself falling asleep cuddled up to him each night, instead of in Helaena’s bed.

It’s disconcerting to peer behind the iron facade of Aemond Targaryen, this softer, kinder, gentle hearted side is one she’s never seen before. Yet the more she gets to know it, the more she grows to like it. It’s something deeper, more intimate than anything she had ever felt for Aegon, and she realises this is because it surpasses mere infatuation, and her feelings are reciprocated.

It’s Saturday evening, and Aegon’s party is close to becoming out of control. The heavy bass of the music reverberates throughout the house, and Royce has provided more kegs than everyone in attendance combined could ever be able to drink in a single night. Every downstairs room, as well as the garden, bustles with people – most of whom she doesn’t know.

Despite this, she is having fun. Her, Helaena and Aemond have kept within their own little bubble, talking and laughing as they pass wine between them, slugging it directly from the bottle. The more she and Aemond drink, the closer they shift towards one another on the sofa, until eventually one of her legs ends up slung over the top of his.

Her mind feels fuzzy from the effects of the alcohol, spreading a warmth throughout her body. She feels happy, she can’t remember the last time she felt this content.

As the evening presses on, Aegon stumbles over to them, a few of his friends trailing after him. She can tell from his glassy eyed expression that he’s drunk. He sways slightly on his feet as he stands in front of them all, taking in the sight of her and Aemond sitting close together.

“There they are!” He slurs. “The happy couple!”

“Has your little brother got himself a girlfriend, Aegon?” His friend pipes up from behind him.

“My cast off, actually,” he says, gesturing towards her with his glass, slopping beer onto the living room floor as he does so.

“Watch yourself,” Aemond says darkly. She feels him tense beneath her, rapidly growing angry.

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me, Aemond?” He asks, cocking his head. “I let you have her! So, come on, the least you can do is let us know what she’s like in the sack!”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Aemond hisses through gritted teeth.

“Stop it, both of you,” Helaena says pleadingly.

She grasps Aemond’s hand, a vain attempt to calm him, as Aegon laughs hysterically with his friends.

“You’ve not fucked her yet, have you?! Will she not put out? Still holding out hope for me?!”

She squeaks in surprise as Aemond stands abruptly, towering over Aegon as he squares up to him. “I said, shut. Your. Fucking. Mouth.”

“Why?” Aegon asks with a careless shrug. “Truth hurt, does it? Because let’s face it, she couldn’t be with me, so she settled for you. Second best.”

With an angry snarl, Aemond shoves Aegon, sending him toppling backwards into his friends, stunning the room into silence as he storms from it.

Her blood runs cold, her heart drumming wildly against her ribcage as she exchanges a horrified glance with Helaena, before hurrying after Aemond, who is already retreating up the stairs two at a time.

He is pacing his room, his breathing ragged as she follows him in, shutting the door and muffling the sound of the party below them.

“Ignore your twat of a brother,” she says soothingly, “he’s drunk, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

Aemond shakes his head, and the look of hurt she sees reflected in his eye as he looks at her makes her heart squeeze painfully. “He’s right. You’re only with me because you couldn’t have Aegon.”

“He’s wrong.” She steps towards him, taking his hands in hers, “I couldn’t be happier with the way things have turned out. What I feel for you…it’s real. You’ve made me happier in two days than Aegon ever has in ten years.”

“Do you really mean that?” He whispers.

He looks so vulnerable, so sad as he looks down at her that it makes her want to cry.

“Every word,” she utters, leaning up on tiptoes to kiss him softly, her fingers caressing his cheek. “You’re so good, Aemond, so good to me.”

He rests his forehead against hers, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulls her close, his eye fluttering closed. “I want to believe that.”

“I’ll make you,” she whispers, tugging him by the front of his shirt as she steps back towards the bed.

They topple onto the bedspread, laying on their sides, facing each other. Her grip on his shirt tightens as she kisses him again, deeper this time, her tongue lapping delicately against his, taking her time with it, allowing him to feel every movement of her lips against his.

When she pulls away, she trails her lips over the sharpness of his jaw and down the column of his throat, her fingers working deftly to open his buttons as she does so, caressing every inch of his bare torso as it’s revealed to her.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers against his neck, feeling him shiver against her, his rapidly growing hardness pressing against her thigh through his jeans.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, as her hands move to his belt buckle, pulling it open.

“I want you,” she whispers, “more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

He groans, fingers digging into the flesh of her hip, screwing his eye shut as she moves her hand beneath the waistband of his underwear.

Her core throbs with arousal as she strokes the velvety soft flesh of his hardened cock, eagerly wrapping her fingers around it, pumping softly, earning a sharp hiss of pleasure from him.

She pushes his underwear down far enough to free his erection, before hooking a leg over his hip and tugging the thong beneath her dress to one side.

“Feel what you do to me,” she says huskily, dragging the head of him through the stickiness that has gathered between her thighs.

Aemond inhales sharply, hips jerking at the sensation, and she smiles at the effect she’s having on him, his breaths coming fast and shallow.

“I want you inside me,” she coos, “will you let me?”

He swallows thickly, pupil dilated with desire as he nods enthusiastically. “Fuck…yes…”

She positions him at her entrance, angling her hips to encourage him to press forward. All of the air feels as though it is forced from her lungs as he pushes into her, the stretch of her body around him is exquisite torture.

“Mmmm…so big,” she murmurs, stroking his hair, feeling him smile in response against the skin of her shoulder. She can tell from the way he’s tensing that he’s holding his breath, every part of him sinking inside of her as intense for him as it is for her.

Once he is fully sheathed inside, she winds her arms around his neck. His grip on her hip is iron clad as he uses his other hand to pull down the straps of her dress and her bra, pressing his face into her breasts as they slowly begin to rock their hips together.

Their pace is unhurried, less about the act itself and more about providing closeness and comfort to each other, and she knows that Aemond is in desperate need of both right now.

His thrusts are shallow as she rolls her hips in time with his, her fingers stroking softly through the silken strands of his hair as he nuzzles into her chest, sighing softly against her flesh with every praise and word of affirmation that she utters softly to him.

She doesn’t care if he brings her to release, she wants tonight to be about Aemond, to make him feel special. When he eventually comes undone, spilling himself inside of her as he pulsates and trembles, her heart flutters as he stares at her, eye filled with nothing but adoration.

Summer has always been her favourite time of year, and thanks to Aemond she’s certain it always will be.

[justanotherstarlightmonger]

Hii Sam! Can you write something about V as a dad please? Something where I would be a tired mom to his kids?

Hi! This was such a cute ask. I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you like it!

Trigger warnings: Post partum depression, mention of wanting to die (once)

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x f!reader

Baby cries were your new alarm. Bolting up, you were aware that presently only your body was moving, your mind remained asleep. You trudged to the twins’ nursery, where your daughter Eun was making a fuss, crying and flailing her tiny little arms.

“Shhhh, there we go baby omma’s here.” You lift her in your arms, shushing her. The little child immediately stopped crying, her loud wails replaced by adorable coos, as her little fists grabbed onto your hair, tugging it gently.

“You aren’t hungry are you? You’re just done sleeping, huh?” you said, booping the tiny little nose. Eun giggled, pulling your hair. “You’re really your father’s daughter.” You shook your head, rocking her against your chest, walking in the corridor. She would occasionally squeal in delight and was overall having a grand time in her mother’s arms.

By now, your own sleep had disappeared. You decided to check up on your 3 yr old, since you were up now. Slowly creaking open the door to his room, you smiled at the pristine picture that met your eyes. Your son Whan was sleeping soundly, his soft purple night light, throwing the prettiest light on his face, his face calm and his eyes open the slightest. Nowhere near how his father slept with his eyes open all the way when he was tired, but still resembling him enough to make your heart overflow with love. That’s when Eun decided to scream and reach for her brother’s sleeping form.

Whan’s perfect forehead wrinkled and he shifted. Immediately pulling back and closing the door before your rowdy little baby could wake up her brother, you frowned at the little fussy bundle in your arms.

“Aishh Eun-ie, you almost woke oppa. Silly little girl, why can’t you take a page from your sister’s book and sleep the night away.” You grumbled softly. Eun didn’t care for one second though. Her tiny little balled fist came into contact with your cheek.

Staring in pure disbelief, you giggled, “Did you just punch your mother young lady?”

She giggled right back in your face.

“Unbelievable.” you muttered, starting your walk back towards the nursery to feed her and hopefully put her to sleep.

About half an hour later you were slowly pulling back the covers from your bed to peacefully glide back into your place. Your husband’s arms snaked around your hips gingerly as he pulled himself closer to you.

“Who was up?” he asked sleepily.

“Eun,” he giggled.

“Minji sleeps straight through the night, I wish Eun would cut you some slack too.” He said, raising himself on his forearms. You smiled up at him, cupping his cheek, whispering tiredly, “Yeah, me too. She’s such a light sleeper. I have no idea where she got it from.”

Taehyung’s deep laughter rumbled in his chest as he swooped down to kiss your nose fondly. “Oh yeah, I couldn’t possibly imagine.” He teased, “It’s not like her mother wakes up at every shift in the bed.”

You blushed and looked away. After almost 5 years of being married and 7 years being together, he still managed to make you shy in the littlest of things.

Tae resumed his position on his pillows, facing you. You looked over and knew well enough that his sleep was gone for now, and that it’d take about as much time for your daughter’s father to get sleepy again as it did for the fussy little baby, currently sleeping in the next room.

“Are your stitches healing up well?” he asked softly.

You nodded, not saying much more. Your emergency c-section to get the twins out was a traumatic experience for you. So much so that you had felt yourself slipping into the dreaded post-partum depression. Your loving husband had been quick to pick up on your heavy silences, your superficial smiles and your late night crying. He had accompanied you to your therapist and had been an overall wonder for both your mental and physical healing. Knowing all this, and being endlessly grateful for it you couldn’t help but still shut down at the memories of the operation theatre.

“Jagiya…” Tae’s gentle voice cooed, pulling you out.

“I was talking to my therapist today about how bad I felt when the twins were born, and how bad I felt about feeling bad in such a magical moment.” You admitted.

“Ahan?” he let you spread out your words, glad that you were sharing them with him rather than bottling them up.

You sat up, clutching the blanket to your chest. “I don’t know Tae, when Whan was born, I was there. I was present. I was pushing and screaming and I felt so strong. I was responsible for his birth, and they gave him to me and I held him to my heart. I was all ripped up and bloody but I felt like a superhero. With Eun and Minji came, it felt like I was helpless. I was laying there on the metal table,” tears streamed down your cheeks, “like a fucking science experiment, and they cut them out of me. I couldn’t feel a single thing. There was no struggle, no strength on my part. They took my girls away, and I couldn’t hold them till the next day. I had no way of knowing if my babies were alright. I trusted the doctors but I wanted to die. I just wanted to die right there and then when they took my girls out of the room. There was no pain, no pushing. My birth felt empty. How could I just grow two whole babies inside me and then not even scream once as they came out of me?”

Tae’s eyes were wide, his pupils dilated as you let yourself come undone at the seams.

“Then later, I felt like I was the worst mother in the world. I had felt not an ounce of happiness at their birth moment. Only worry and panic. What kind of mother does that make me? Mothers forget everything in the world when they see their children. Then how could I have wanted to perish on that cold operating table? When my girls were alive and well and waiting for me? Shouldn’t I have waited for them and loved them just as much as they loved me?” your body racked with sobs and every other word was interrupted by a hiccup.

“Oh love…” your husband sighed and collected your little frame in his long, strong arms. He hushed and whispered little “I’m so sorry”s till you were collected enough to look up at him. His heart broke at your red eyes, your smaller hands gripping onto his biceps as you searched his eyes for something.

“Kim y/n,” he stated very firmly, “you have given me all the happiest moments of my life. The day you told me you loved me. The night you agreed to marry me. The day you walked down the aisle looking like an angel. The night you welcomed me home with a positive pregnancy test for Whan. The day you gave me my son. The day you, you and no one else were brave enough to have your body cut open so that our daughters could come into the world. And every day in between. I wake up to you and thank my angels that I stumbled upon a person like you in my lifetime. You are so strong. The strongest, most fiercely loving woman I have ever known.”

He stopped to see if you had acknowledged all that. Your cheeks were tinted a darker color, so he took that as a positive sign. He collected a deep breath and carried on, “So you had one moment of weakness. So what baby? I’m a witness to all the love you shower our girls with every waking minute. How can you let that one millisecond of panic and hormonal overflow overshadow all the joy you and the girls have brought into the world? My love, I would be nowhere without you all. You give me strength in something as simple as a smile. Yet you doubt yourself and your ability to be a mother? When you’re clearly the best mother any child could ask for.”

He kissed the stream of freshly overflowing tears that had found their way down your cheek.

“I love you y/n. I could say this with every breath I take and I still wouldn’t be able to say how much. Please don’t beat yourself up. We love you. Me and the kids will love you till our last breaths because you would do the same for us. Please don’t be so harsh on yourself.”

You felt like you could spontaneously explode from all the love in your heart, and implode on yourself from the tremendous sorrow you felt about the fact that Tae felt he had to assure you how much you meant to him. You took a shuddering breath and interlinked your fingers with his, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss it tenderly.

“I love you too Kim Taehyung. I owe all my happiness to you.” You meant every word.

He kissed you then, sweetly yet with enough passion to send electricity tingling down to your toes. You felt complete in his arms, surrounded by the comfort of the room that was your safe place. In the home that both of you built with your love, housing your kids.

Your kids.

You smiled against his lips, pulling him impossibly close. Never to let go.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 112: Intimacy

"Come on," Pansy said as she sipped her pink cosmo, "Sure, pulling fit blokes and having anonymous sex has it's appeal."

"Merlin, Pans," he grumbled, raising a hand to the bartender for another gin and tonic, "I am not nearly drunk enough for this conversation."

"I'm just saying," she said, spreading her hands and giving him a cheeky little grin, "sex with random strangers is good but there's something to be said for the intimacy that comes from knowing and loving the person you're sleeping with."

He groaned and resisted the urge to cover his ears, but only just. There was only one person Draco might consider monogamy with and he'd been in love with him since he was eleven. To distract from his own thoughts he said, "Gross. Your love affair with Ginerva is repulsive."

"It's not some sordid affair, you arse. We're married!"

"Don't remind me," he groused. "We're always surrounded by bloody Gryffindors now."

And as if his words had summoned them, the door opened and Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Harry came pouring in.

"They're awful."

"Oh come now," she said, leaning toward him, "Surely there's a certain handsome wizard who also happens to be the vanquisher of the forces of evil for whom you might make an exception."

"Shut it," he said.

A wicked grin tugged on the corner of her mouth, "Rumor has it that he's quite a lover," she said. "And don't pretend those bulging quidditch player thighs don't do it for you," she added, "And that arse-"

"Shut up," he hissed as the rowdy Gryffindors approached the table.

(Read more below the cut)

She held up her hands in surrender before turning her attention to Ginerva.

Potter slid into the seat next to Draco as he did almost every time he was out at the same time as they were. "Hey stranger," he said, all smiles and dimples and sparkling green eyes that Draco could have very easily lost himself in.

"Good evening," he replied, attempting to keep his voice calm and disinterested.

"How are you?" Potter asked, angling toward Draco's and raking his eyes over his body.

People believed that Harry Potter was oblivious but that couldn't have been further from the truth. The other man was perceptive and observant as anything when he wanted to be. "I'm well, thank you."

Potter sighed, "Come on," he said, bumping Draco's foot under the table. "How are you really? I haven't seen you in-"

"Five days," Draco replied.

Potter laughed, "But who's counting?"

He was saved having to answer when Ginny and Ron got into a fight and distracted the whole table. Draco breathed a silent sigh of relief and allowed himself to watch the drama unfolding before him.

-------

At a perfectly respectable hour, Draco stood up from the table, "Well, as lovely as this has been, I'm off," he said.

Everyone, save Potter who'd left for the loo a few minutes prior, waved him off and wished him a good night, and he set out, trying to decide which club he was going to go to. The last time he'd been at Pulse he'd found a very handsome bloke to take home, dark hair, dark skin, strong, and handsome; it was just his eyes that were wrong. And Merlin, he'd been delightful in bed. He'd almost let him stay over, in fact.

"Draco!" someone called behind him, "Draco!"

Before he'd really let himself think it through he turned around and saw that Potter was chasing him down the sidewalk. His heart beat a little faster and his mouth went a little dry.

"Hey," the other man said.

"Hi," Draco replied like an utter idiot.

The corner of Potter's mouth tilted up and that infernal dimple appeared. "Listen," he said, licking his bottom lip, "I keep trying to ask you but then I get too nervous-"

"You get nervous?" Draco asked incredulously.

Potter rubbed the back of his neck, "Not often but I can't seem to keep my head when I'm around you."

Draco huffed a laugh.

"I'm serious," Potter said emphatically. "I have all these great plans, all these clever things to say, and then once you're standing there in front of me I'm just this scared, stupid teenage kid all over again."

His heart might as well have turned into a puddle for all the good it was doing in his chest.

"So I'm just going to say it," he said, nodding once. "Draco Malfoy, I really like you. You are clever, and kind, and funny, and you are bloody gorgeous. I really want to get to know you better."

He blinked at him, "Well, I was thinking about going to find someone to take home with me-" he started to offer.

But Potter was shaking his head, "No. Well," he amended, "It's not that I don't want to," he broke off and cleared his throat, "It's just that I don't want to be a one night stand that you take home and kick out of bed in the morning."

"I don't let my one night stands stay over night," he replied.

"Right," Potter said, "Of course. It's just," he halted again. "One night isn't enough. I'm pretty sure that one night would just make everything worse."

"What are you proposing, then?"

"A date?" Potter offered.

"And if it ends with sex?" he asked curiously because Merlin he hoped that it would end with sex.

"I would very much like to have sex with you but I want more than one night."

He looked at him for a long moment, heart beating hard against his rib cage, "I would be amenable to that. As long as you aren't a complete disaster."

"Yeah?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Yes," Draco replied with a little smile.

And this was the first night of the rest of their lives together.

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

Day 111: Smile | Day 113: Cooking

[lookingforluna]

Baby, Please! || knj

☾Pairing: Idol!Namjoon x Reader 

☾Word Count: 2.5k

☾Rating: M

☾ Genre: smut, fluff, romance, established relationship!, idol!au

☾Warnings: smut, intercourse, explicit language, teasing, pregnancy talk, impregnation kink

☾Summary: You can’t seem to help yourself these days. Lately you’ve been getting more and more into children. When your cousin asks you to babysit her daughter Hae, you never imagined the situation you’d be thrown into and the outcome of her visit.

☾ A/N: Hi there this might look familiar because it was from my previous account. I now go by Luna and I’m happy to be back on Tumblr! I’ll be posting a majority of my old stories, but I have many new ones planned 💙

You let out a shriek as you see Jungkook walk into the dorm with the mail, a medium-sized package in one of his hands. The rest of the boys lounging around in the living room turn to see the reason for your squeal. You take the package from Jungkook's arms as he looks at you with wide eyes surprised by your excitement. 

"What's in it?" Jungkook curiously asks as he follows you into the living room where you set the package down onto the table. You carefully open up the box, a broad smile breaking onto your face as you remove the rubber ducky patterned tissue paper. Taehyung and Jimin move onto the carpet next to you to peer into the box wondering what could have you so excited. You watch as the maknae line all furrow their brows in confusion at the items inside of the box. 

"What? What is it?" Jin asks from his seat on the couch, the interest clear in his voice as he leans forward. Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin all reach into the box until they're pulling out the items you bought in the spur of the moment one night. 

"A-are those baby clothes?" You turn to look at Yoongi as blush takes over your cheeks. You don't miss the looks the boys all give Namjoon as he sits back watching you.

 "Aren't they so cute? I saw them and just had to get them," you say, picking up the tiny little bow tie and matching black dress shoes.

"Someone's got baby fever," Hobi loudly shouts while looking between you and Namjoon. You watch as Jungkook puts his fingers in the little shoes and pretends to make them run across the table, causing you to let out a laugh. "Uh oh, be careful Joon. Y/N looks like she's getting ideas, "Jin laughs as he smacks Namjoon's shoulder.   

"Not now," you laugh as you watch Jimin try to put the bow tie on Taehyung, "but someday I want kids," you smile as your eyes connect with Joon. A toothy smile is showing on his face as he looks at you in adoration. 

A few hours later, you find yourself lounging on the couch just waiting for the boys to return from the studio. You're scrolling through Twitter on your laptop when suddenly you get a text from your cousin. 

I need your help! I just got called into work and have no one to watch Hae. Please tell me you're not busy today?

Your eyes skim over the text, and suddenly a wave of excitement rushes through your body. You had nothing to do today, and it was always exciting to see the little four-year-old girl. You quickly send your reply and wait for her to drop off Hae.

Hae has such a big personality for a four-year-old. She loves to draw, sing, and take pictures. She's pretty bright for her age too. Her mother has been teaching her English in hopes of the little girl becoming fluent. 

It had been about 45 minutes since your cousin had dropped off Hae and the two of you were playing hide and seek. You had to admit she was a great hider and you were starting to get worried that she actually might've left the dorm. You lean over the couch to hopefully find her hiding between the sofa and wall, but to your luck, she's not there. 

Just then you hear the front door open and turn to see the seven rowdy boys enter the dorm, stopping in their place as they notice you frantically searching the area. 

"What are you looking for, babe?" Namjoon comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he places a soft kiss to your forehead.  

"I'm looking for Hae. She's my four-year-old cousin. Her mother dropped her off this morning so that I could babysit her. We're playing hide and seek, but she's a good hider," you explain while pouting a little of the thought of not finding the girl.

Namjoon's brows raise in surprise at the information. He had never met Hae, none of the boys have, but they've heard countless stories about her from you. 

"Uh oh Joon, it looks like that baby fever is kicking in. Now a baby is hiding in our dorm," Jimin thunders, laughing as he buckles over on the floor. "Oh no all of my Gucci is out of the boxes," Tae shouts as he hurries off to his room, a determined look on his face. 

"My music stuff is all over the place in my room," Yoongi mumbles as he quickly follows after Taehyung. You look at the rest of the boys standing in the living room. Hae was now on all of their minds, and they were determined to find her. 

"Don't worry y/n I can help. I'm the best at hide and seek. I know all of the hiding spots," Jungkook grins before taking off in a sprint trying to locate the little girl. It's settled, all of you would look for her while Yoongi and Taehyung guarded their precious items. 

"What's she like?" Joon asks you as he looks behind the curtains of your shared bedroom. You turn to look at him as you pause from searching through the closet. 

"She's the sweetest little girl ever. She loves to sing, draw, and take pictures. She's even learning English. She's bright for her age. And she's super talkative for a four-year-old. Always asking lots of questions," you smile as you think of Hae and her adorable little self. 

Namjoon pauses his search to walk over to you, his eyes gleaming with some emotion you can't really place. You watch as a small smile takes over his lips, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek as he opens his mouth to speak. "You'll make a wonderful mother; you know that," he quietly voices as his brown eyes stare deeply into yours. 

Your heart swells at his words. To hear those words coming from him meant more than anything in this world. It was always your dream to become a mother and to hear those words from Namjoon made you even more sure of your decision.    

"Someday," you smile as you stare back into his eyes, "it's what I really want." Namjoon pulls you to his chest tightly, his arms encircling your waist as one hand rubs your back. His chin rests atop of your head as he holds you close. 

"You'll be an amazing mother. An amazing mother to our children," he whispers almost as if it was a secret only shared between the two of you. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you pull back slightly to look at him, his eyes gazing back into yours with nothing but love. 

Just then you hear loud giggling and the pitter-patter of feet running and the sound of Jungkook shouting "gotcha." You and Joon run out into the hallway to find Jungkook carrying a little Hae in his arms as she snacks on some pieces of chocolate. 

"Someone found my secret hiding spot for my snacks. No wonder she wasn't making any noise. She was too busy munching on my snacks," Jungkook says with a huff obviously not very happy with the events. You could tell that he was just teasing, but you knew that Jungkook wasn't too pleased about his snacks being eaten. 

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. I'll buy you more. I promise," you laugh as he tries to take a piece of chocolate from Hae only to have her smack him in the face. "Hae that's not nice," you tell her as she watches Jungkook rub his nose. 

"Sworry Kookie," she mumbles and offers him a piece of chocolate which he gladly accepts. 

"Oooooo the baby," Taehyung excitedly jumps as she grabs Hae from Jungkook's hands. You stand there and watch in amusement as Hae lets Taehyung take her.

 "I'm not a bwaby," she says while folding her arms, a pout taking over her lips. You can't help but smile as Taehyung and Jungkook both fawn over her, the two of them fighting for her attention. 

All of you move towards the living room where you notice Jimin and Yoongi lounging on the sofa as Jin and Hobi start to prepare dinner. 

"Ooooo fwairy. Pwetty fwairy," Hae claps with excitement and everyone starts to laugh as you all connect the dots. Taehyung puts her down on the floor, and she runs up to Jimin, pushing herself up onto the couch slowly. Jimin's smile is broad as he pulls her into his lap, wincing as Hae pulls on his hair. "Pwink fwairy," she giggles while running her hand through his hair. 

"No not fairy. I'm Jimin," he says while trying taking her small hands into his own to prevent her from fisting his hair. "Fwairy fwairy," she shouts jumping up and down excitedly as the rest of the boys enjoy the show. 

"Hey, Jimin, she's just a kid. Indulge her come on," Yoongi exclaims from his seat as he watches with apparent amusement. At the sound of Yoongi's voice, Hae turns her head to find where everyone's attention has moved to focus. A gasp escapes her mouth, and her little feet carry her to the other side of the long couch, "kitty, kitty," she shouts in a fit of giggles as she hugs onto Yoongi's side.  

You hold your breath waiting for Yoongi's harsh response. You didn't know what he was like around kids, but his actions surprised all of you. He pulled Hae into his lap, and she snuggled up to him saying "meow meow," over and over again with a massive smile on her face. Yoongi entertained her and meowed back, which caused everyone to erupt into laughter.

"Hae is such a cute girl," Joon says as he climbs into bed next to you, turning off the lights and pulling you closer. You snuggle up to his chest, the heat radiating off from him, only causing you to bury yourself even more in his warmth. "I know I can't wait until we have a little one of our own," you softly breathe out in the darkness of the room. Your eyes slowly close, and just as you're about to fall asleep, you feel Joon's hand rubbing circles on your stomach.

 "You really want to have my baby?" The question is whispered but comes out louder than ever in the silence of the night. "More than anything in this world," you reply just as soft. His hand slowly moves its way up to your body until it softly grasps onto your cheek, turning your head to the side, his smooth, plump lips capturing yours in a loving kiss.

"I know we're too young right now," Joon mumbles against your lips as he slides his body in between your now parted legs, your hands tangling themselves in his hair, "but the thought of you pregnant with my baby is just so sexy," he mumbles as his lips travel down to your neck claiming you as his. A breathy moan leaves your mouth as Namjoon suckles that spot over and over, his teeth grazing over the skin before he's soothing the area with his wet tongue. 

"I want your baby. I want to have your baby so bad," you whine as you close your legs around Joon's hips, your own rising to gain some friction against your aching core. 

"I know we're too young right now, but we can always practice and perfect our skill," he says, groaning loudly as your fingers are wrapping around him beneath the waistband of his boxers. You feel the heat building between the two of you, the passion burning deep within you as the desire to have a baby with your boyfriend is stronger than before. You want this. You want his baby more than anything. 

"Joonie please, baby. I want you," you loudly moan as you feel him stripping you of all clothing, leaving you bare for his eyes. Even in the darkness, you could feel Joon's eyes gazing over your body, his fingers tracing every dip and curve.  

"I'm gonna give you a baby, beautiful. You're gonna look so good, round and full with my baby," he groans as his hard length slides itself between your already soaking folds. The lewd wet sounds are causing you to moan from his touch alone. Your arms wrap around Joon's biceps as you bathe in the feeling of his hot length slowly teasing you, the dripping head rutting against your clit with each achingly slow thrust. 

"You want me, baby? You want me to put my cock in you? You want me to fill you up?" Joon groans huskily in your ear as he slowly circles the head around your awaiting hole. Your back arches as he only pushes in the tip, the stretch welcoming and satisfying, causing soft moans to leave your mouth. 

"You want more, baby?" You clench around him as he eases his tip into you before pulling it out and pushing it back in. A loud whine escapes your mouth as you become tired of Namjoon's teasing. 

"Please give me more. Please, I want you to fill me up," you beg as Joon pushes your legs over his shoulders, slipping into you with one smooth thrust. You tighten around his cock as his size still leaves you breathless every time. He was blessed indeed. He reached deep within you, leaving nothing untouched. 

"Fuck your so wet and tight baby. I'm going to put a baby in you. You want my cum baby?" Joon moans loudly as his thrusts become more powerful with each rut. You find yourself drowning in pleasure as your eyes roll back, the slow lovemaking pace sending you into a blissful state. 

"Yes, give it to me. Fill me up. I want your baby," you moan entirely fucked out. Your skin feels like it's on fire as Joon presses his lips to yours, the taste of him swallowing you whole. You're full of him and surrounded by him. It's an overwhelming feeling being trapped in between his arms as he thrusts passionately, whispering sweet nothings over and over as he presses soft kisses to your neck. 

"I'm gonna cum. I'm so close baby. Take my cum," Joon moans as his head falls back and his thrusts pick up the pace. The harder thrusts of his hips cause your own orgasm to build up until your clawing down his back, his hot cum spurting inside of you as you milk him for all he has.

You're on cloud nine as your chest rises rapidly, drops of sweat falling from Joon's forehead onto your chest as he catches his breath. 

"I can't wait until you're pregnant with my baby," Joon mumbles as his lips capture yours, placing a soft yet loving kiss. 

"And we can't wait until you two are done so we can all get some sleep. Please keep in mind that we have careers," Jin shouts followed by a chorus of the other boys agreeing.   

You and Joon break out into laughs as the thought of facing the boys in the morning sinks in. 

"I can't wait until we have our baby. You'll be the best daddy in the world," you softly mummer as you hear Joon's soft breathing fill the darkness of the room. 

❥ Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog! I love to hear your thoughts 💙✨

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Copyright © 2018-2022 lookingforluna. All rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform, edit or translate without permission.

[broadstflyers]

A/N: I am so excited to be starting my first ever series. This is inspired by Taylor Swift’s “Cardigan” because her music creates stories in my head that I must write down on (digital) paper. Please keep in mind this chapter is written in past tense, and the story probably won't be in present tense for at least another few chapters. Let me know what you think! If you want to be on the tag list for the next chapter, or drop any (constructive) feedback, you can take this survey here.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: None

Summary: They say at fourteen you’re too young to know you’re in love. But what if you aren’t?

Navigation: chapter two

Grade: 9 Age: 14 --------------------------------- As sure as you are that spring comes after winter, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and seconds turn into minutes, you know you are in love with Joel Farabee. Not the gushy “I want to hug you and kiss you and never let you go” love, the intense “I want to burst at the seams because I just want to scream it on the rooftops and tell you and it literally crushes my heart that I can’t” love.

Yeah, that love.

The problem?

You were only fourteen when you knew.

Yes, the grand old age of fourteen. The age you were supposed to be nervously texting multiple boys, wondering if you were going to be asked to the ninth grade dance and worrying about who your first kiss was going to be, or even the first person you were going to hold hands with.

It started on the first day of school, but the start of it all was less than romantic. You shuffled up the hallway with one of your best friends, your feet felt like lead.

“What’s wrong?” Luna whispered in your ear.

“I really hate math,” you huffed. It was the last period of the day, eighth period, and you had to spend it in what was probably going to be a room full of rambunctious athletes who would be itching to burst out of the room at the very sound of the bell. How did you know this? Because you had been stuck in a class like that ever since the beginning of middle school. It made for some laughs, yes, but for some reason a pessimistic attitude bitterly swarmed around you in dark circles. Also, math in general made you anxious, and it didn’t help that the last few years you had to fend for yourself because of your lack of friends in said class.

“Well, at least you’ll have me this year,” Luna attempted to reassure you and your looming anxiety.

“Yeah, but I wonder who’s going to be in our class this year,” you mumbled. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies, but you’d rather call them icky moths.

Luna opened her mouth to respond, but you reached the door frame before her. Before you could even make it through the entrance, you made eye contact with a group of rowdy boys sitting at a table directly in front of you. You stopped dead in your tracks. They paused in their shouting to turn and look at you and Luna, since you were only about seven or eight feet away.

You scanned their faces, and you recognized most of them. They were mostly hockey players that played for the local team that looked for a shot at the NTDP in just a few short years. It was Syracuse, hockey was a pretty big deal there. There was also the prospective varsity quarterback and his star wide-receiver, these labels given to them at just fourteen. Of course, more athletes. Suddenly, you locked eyes with this boy you strangely have never seen before. His hand was hovering in air over his friend’s head with what you could only assume is his friend’s pencil in a lame attempt to keep him from grabbing it.

He blinked a few times, and you might have blinked a few times, you honestly couldn’t remember.

You snapped out of your trance and looked over to the board that said, “Welcome class! Pick your seats for the first day!”

“Hey,” Luna nudged you and grabbed your arm, “let’s sit over there.”

She lead you to a table adjacent to the boys’ table, despite your unheard protests of being “too close” to them.

You took your seat huffing, and you pulled out your binder and got ready for class, something you wished the crazy boys would pick up on. Thankfully the bell rang, your teacher shut the door, and class began.

That’s the first time you saw him. Not very eventful, but hey, you two were awkward fourteen year olds just entering grade nine. Of course things were not going to be all fireworks and love at first sight.

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

A few classes went by, and the only disturbance that occurred was when the class was taking one of those horrible diagnostic tests. See, you really hated disturbances, interruptions, anything relating to that matter.

So when this dude named Joel (you learned his name when he was yelled at for playing rap music in the middle of class) started fooling around with his friend while you were trying to figure out why letters were in math now, you weren’t happy, to say the least.

And when he locked eyes with you and made a silly face, yours did not move in a rather unamused manner. You simply blinked and looked back down at your test.

You missed his face slightly fall, but it was short lived when the teacher yelled his name from across the room and made everyone jump ten feet. He was quiet after that.

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

It was a random Tuesday in late October.

You and Luna were chatting about your previous classes, until you both stopped in your tracks and you raised an eyebrow. Everyone in your class was standing up and congregating away from tables. You could hear the ominous music creeping over everyone’s heads.

“Oh no,” you whined to Luna.

She winced. “We’re being assigned seats, aren’t we?”

You nodded. You both stood in the sea of kids and awaited your fate.

“Alright, everyone,” your teacher said. “You guys have been extremely chatty lately.” She paused to side-eye Joel and his friends.

He opened his mouth to protest, but he quickly shut it when she frowned.

“So you leave me no choice, but I must assign seats,” she dramatically said as she unveiled the new seating chart on the board.

Everyone pushed and shoved to the front to see where their name lied in the cards of fate. You heard some soft celebrations and loud protests.

You nudged your way in and scanned up and down the board. Luna wasn’t at the same table, but she was sitting facing towards you at another table. Hopefully you and her would be able to make eye contact. You scanned until you see your name fall right next to someone who you would rather forget you treated so poorly. It was there in bright, bold red.

Joel Farabee.

“Aw man,” you and a voice said in unison. You looked up at your side to see that it’s him. Oh dear brother. Did you both just admit out loud that you don’t want to sit next to each other? You and him rolled your eyes at each other, huffing that you’ll be forced to be in each other’s presence.

And you knew he was thinking some sort of variation of what you were: how dare your teacher.

You trudged over to your seat and plopped down. He threw down his stuff and sat next to you. You could sense his extreme dislike for your rather serious demeanor. Hey, you could crack a smile.

Just not around him. And for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why. It’s almost like if you did, you knew you would never stop...

You both avoided eye contact, you played with your pencil as he yelled to one of his friends across the classroom about some stupid video game.

And that’s just how it was for weeks. You’d both come in, sit down, he’d scream to his friends, you’d fight shooting him a really dirty look.

Until one day, you accidentally did. Now, later when you told Luna, you swore up and down you didn’t mean to, and it was just the fact that seventh period gym was terrible (but when was it not). Okay, so maybe you were fed up with him yelling about whatever rap song came out, or whatever Instagram model popped up on his feed (that made you shutter).

But what you did wasn’t really admittedly the nicest.

“Joel, do you always have to yell so freaking loudly?” you snapped.

He feigned a stunned expression, or maybe he really meant it, who knows what goes on in that boy’s seemingly empty head.

“Do you have to be such a downer…like all the time? Kinda ruins the vibe bro.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks Joel, because the number one thing I care about is ruining your ‘vibe’,” you put that word in air quotes, “and not getting any work done in this class, bro.”

Now he rolled his eyes. “Look, you could benefit from loosening up a little, you know? You’re kind of just, not a fun person.”

A look of real hurt flashed across your face. One that he caught. “No,” you punctually state. Then you turn your seat so you completely have your back to him and you’re facing the board.

Meanwhile Luna and your table-mates watched the whole situation unfold. Okay, and maybe most of the class.

And when the bell rang and he called your name, you simply decided you didn’t hear it.

“He’s calling you,” Luna prodded.

You just shook your head as you continued down the hallway to the bus. On the bus, you had some thinking to do.

Did he really think of you as...boring? You usually didn’t let the immature words of boys get to you, but this, this really hurt.

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

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Luna insisted that evening while lying on your bedroom floor that same Friday evening.

“Yes he did, and he’s kind of right,” you begrudgingly conceded. “I haven’t been the nicest to him,” you sigh into your hands, “and maybe I should be.”

“Well, what’s stopping you?” Luna curiously asked.

“I, I don’t know.”

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

The following Monday, you winced and leaned into Luna as you approached the classroom. To say you were terrified is an understatement.

But you took a deep breath, held your head high, and locked your face into a neutral expression. You never let anyone get the best of you, and you weren’t going to let Joel out of all people be one of the first.

Luna offered a small sympathetic smile as she made her way to her seat.

Your heart beated out of your chest anticipating his arrival. Sure enough, you caught him out of the corner of your eye. He took his time and strutted around the room to talk to all the friends he had. He was obviously looking to avoid you, too.

Coward.

Eventually, he made his way to his seat. He cleared his throat, but you didn’t budge. Ever heard of being saved by the bell?

“I’m going to hand back everyone’s quizzes from last class,” your teacher announced. You audibly groaned. That quiz did not go well. Who puts diamonds and boxes and something called factoring in math?

Sure enough, she shoved a C- into your sweaty hands.

“Dang,” you whispered.

You glanced over at Joel’s paper. 100%.

Are you kidding me?

His prying eyes had the audacity to spot your C-, as if you didn’t pry on his paper seconds before.

“That’s rough,” he said, trying to make eye contact with you.

“I- um, yeah, it is,” you choked out with your eyes still glued on your paper.

His heart broke when he heard your wavering voice. He had to do something.

“Can I see it?” He quietly asked, when quiet usually isn’t typically his demeanor.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Uh, sure?”

He took the paper and started drawing stars around the C- mark, very messily, may you add.

You went to take the paper back, but he moved it away from your grasp.

“One second,” he pleaded. He stuck his tongue out in concentration.

You tried to see how badly he was defacing your quiz, but the position of his arm prohibited you from peering over to see.

“Done,” he proudly said as he slid the paper back over to you.

Instead of a plain old C-, there was now...a C- with stars around it.

“Joel, this is very lovely and all, but why the stars around the C-?”

He smiled with his sickeningly sweet toothless grin, and your heart absolutely backflipped into oblivion.

“That’s not a C-,” he goofily joked, “that’s the moon, y/n,” he said through a smile. “See it?”

You looked up from your paper and looked at him in the eye. Your hands shook from adrenaline, your heart was fluttering, goodness, you didn’t know how you could feel any lighter.

That smile was going to be the death of you.

“Yeah, Joel,” you cracked a smile, “I do see it. Thank you,” you sincerely said.

Crack a smile.

You cracked a smile.

His heart skipped a beat. He knew instantly he was going to do whatever it took to keep that smile on your face for as long as possible. He didn’t care what he would have to do.

He smiled once more, and he turned to his buddies to shield his face from you. He didn’t want you to see how red it was turning. He proceeded to explain to them how perfect his stars were and how no one could top them. Something along the lines of “Bro, you have to see this one, it’s so perfect bro…” He also told them how he made you feel better while slapping his chest, for some reason, as in yeah, I made the mopiest girl in school smile. He sounded like he was priding himself on it.

His smile, the way he talked about you, those freaking stars. You’d let him draw those all over your arm instead any day.

At that age, you may not have known why there were letters in algebra, but you knew that the way he made you feel wasn't the same as you did with your two other crushes back in middle school. This just felt...absolutely weird.

But absolutely right.

And that’s the story of how at just fourteen years old, you knew you were absolutely screwed.

[chibinekochan]

My biggest treasure - Ft. Mammon

Mammon is a Goblin in this au.

This is part of the Monster tales au Series

-------

You have been on the hunt for this treasure for a while now.

Having all the information about its whereabouts, defenses, and most importantly feeling morally right.

Its owner is a scummy guy after all.

This gem will not only bring you some nice cash, and bringing it back to its rightful owner will surely feel good too.

With well-planned moves, you make your way towards the big mansion.

Now you have to climb the wall. You have studied the moves of the guards.

They won't be around for a while.

With quiet steps, you move in the darkness. Only a few moves are needed to scale the wall and carefully jump on a neighboring tree.

Swiftly scan the area.

It seems the dogs haven't noticed you yet.

You want to keep it that way and continue your way on top of the trees. Carefully navigating through the shadows, practically becoming one of them.

Slowly, the lights of the mansion come into view.

The carefully kept garden is now in front of you.

The shrubs will offer you a little cover and the dogs might sense your presence. You smirk. Time for the real challenge to begin.

You take a deep breath to strengthen your nerves.

With ease, you jump from the tree and run at high speed through the garden, occasionally jumping over hedges.

By the time you hear dogs barking, you have already climbed the balcony and wait for clear air.

The guards check the hedges, but of course find nothing.

.

You smirk when they shrug and go back to their posts.

You wait a bit longer and then carefully and quietly open the door.

Your body is moving low and fast, knowing exactly where your target is. Lucky for you, the scumbag has a huge ego and displays what you are looking for right in his living room.

You sneak in the shadows, listening to every sound. It's quiet. You can only hear your own heart and breathing.

Then you see it slightly shimmering, illuminated by the moon. The gem you are looking for.

You calm your nerves and steady your hands.

Then suddenly you hear a commotion, loud barking from the outside. Some lights in the mansion turning on and glass shattering.

Unsure what just happened, your instinct kicks in and all you can do is run.

Light starts to shine into the room, causing the gem to sparkle as if to mock you.

You run towards the nearest window, ready to jump out.

When suddenly something passes you at high speed. For a moment you pause until you notice it's a person.

This must be whoever interrupted you.

You have no time to stay, you hear the guards closing in.

With little choice, you run and jump after the stranger.

The guards behind you yell, and the dogs chase you.

There is no time for anything else but running. You run in a straight line towards the wall. Following close behind the other person.

Once you jump the wall, you have to make sure that nobody is following you. You can still keep an eye on the other person.

Only catching a quick glance at them. White hair and blue eyes. You take a mental note of it.

Your pursuers are still behind you, and you decide to go deeper into the forest to shake them off or at least to hide.

You can smack the guy another time.

By the next day, you are back in your home. The loss of income is a hard blow to your family,, but it can't be helped. It's better to be poor but free.

Your siblings were disappointed,, but you can make money more honestly until another opportunity arises.

Hopefully, the medicine for your smallest sibling will last long enough. Worryingly, you eye the half-empty bottle.

"It's okay, we will work hard and buy more." Ian, the 2nd oldest, Ian, has seen your worries.

You ruffle their hair. "Don't worry about it. I will trade some herbs with the pharmacist and in the bar tonight again." You smile to ease their worries.

"You work too much." The 2nd youngest, Eva, looks worried.

"We have to get food, so we can cook a good meal. I will catch fish for us." Ian is suddenly super motivated.

"Yeah, I will get some veggies from our garden. Rest so you can work hard for us later." Eva has taken care of the garden and grown some stuff.

Your heart is filled with pride, and you hug them both. "You guys are the best, just don't forget to play with your friends too." You feel bad about being so poor,, but it can't be helped. After losing both parents, you are left as the oldest to take care of them.

And you do everything for them, even if it means stealing.

You go and rest for a while until sunset.

Then you cook the fish and vegetables that your siblings got for tonight. They are very good kids. You are very proud of them. You make soup for your youngest sibling, Owen.

"Dinner is ready." You dish everyone up, making sure your siblings get more than you.

"Looks great." Eve beams at the food.

"I worked hard for this fish, so you better eat it all." Ian looks at both of you sternly.

"Thank you both for the food." You are truly grateful to them.

"Will you have to go again soon?" Ian knows well that I have to leave them alone sometimes due to my 'nightwork'.

It can take days to get the treasure and to get my money. Not even mentioning the time I have to spend hiding. Still, the pay is so high that I can't afford not doing it.

"I will have to see,, but currently I have nothing lined up." I know it's hard for them when I'm not here,, but there is no other way for me to afford the medicine.

Ian seems troubled.

"Don't frown, Ian, we can handle everything just fine." Eve pats his back.

"Well, of course, but I'm worried about you." Ian becomes confident, but then frowns at you.

"Haha, I can watch out for myself. I'm plenty strong." I giggle. Sometimes he acts like the dad. It's sad that they all have to grow up so fast.

"Yeah, like the time you beat that bear. That was so cool!" Eve's eyes sparkle.

Ian shakes his head. "That was scary."

"I gotta agree with you. I will go and check on Owen. He needs to eat." You worry about the amount of food he eats. It's definitely not enough.

The others keep bickering, and you walk into the room. You open the windows, fill the pitcher with water, and check on Owen. He looks at you with tired eyes,, but he is smiling weakly.

"Hey there, sleepy head. Time for food." You smile, trying to hide your worries.

"I'm not really hungry." He says with a weak voice.

"It's very tasty. So why not try a bit?" His state breaks your heart,, but you fight through it.

Owen nods and you help him sit.

You feed him slowly. He seems to like it. This is relieving.

At some point, he can't eat anymore. "You ate half a bowl today. Great work." You encourage him.

Then you change his bedding and shake his pillows before giving him his medicine.

He frowns.

"I know it's bitter, but it helps, right? I have an apple for dessert if you take it all." You bribe him with a sliced apple.

"Pudding would be better." Owen smiles sheepishly.

"Pudding makes everything better. I will see what I can do." Sadly, even pudding is a luxury for us. I wonder if I can get a portion for everyone?

"It's alright, I like apples." Owen knows more about your situation than he lets on.

Owen bravely takes his medicine and eats a few slices of the apple.

You bring the rest to your other siblings.

Then you do a few chores before heading to work.

It's going to be a long night, you can already tell.

The bar you work at is a bit rowdy, the patrons are ruff, but overall good people. It's usually fun to work at the place.

The gruff owner is a nice guy, who often gives you 'leftovers' or stuff his wife made that he apparently really doesn't like. You know that neither is true,, but you are also not one to just take handouts, and he is also a bit awkward,, so this is how you two handle things.

"Hey, I'm in." I say hi to the owner, who grunts at me.

I start to clean the floor and prepare everything for opening time.

"Hey, the wife made some strange stuff again. Please take it off my hands' kiddo?" The owner shoves a box towards you.

It's definitely food that smells great. "Are you sure? It sure smells nice."

"Get it off me, before I toss it out." The owner frowns.

I take the box. "Alright, thank the wife for me." I smile at him and put the box in the back.

"You're gonna make her believe her food is any good." He grumbles.

"Don't let her hear that,, or she might believe you." I grin at him, knowing that he loves her food.

He shrugs. "We've got game night tonight so if it gets rowdy, feel free to kick them."

With game night, he means gambling. It's not really legal, but it brings good business but of course also some strange people.

"Sure thing. I hope we get some big spenders tonight." Usually, the drunken winners give nice tips.

"You just keep dreaming big kiddo, as long as we make money I'm happy." He keeps cleaning glasses while talking.

You clean the last few tables and get the gaming stuff ready, it's just a box of dice, cards and such things.

Slowly the guests are pouring in. Most of which you know on a first-name. They order their usual. These guests aren't only here for gambling, they are here on most nights anyway.

Then when night breaks a different clientele is pouring in and filling the tables.

They all know the game. Trading money for snacks or coasters. Some use their means of hiding the money in play.

The owner keeps a close eye on everything from a distance. While you keep filling glasses.

Nothing strikes you as odd until you see a Goblin on one of the tables. This by itself isn't all that unusual, all kinds of folk come here after all. This goblin somehow strikes you as odd.

Then suddenly you realize, his hair color is white. That is certainly unusual, sadly you can't see his eyes since he wears yellow-tinted glasses.

This might be the guy that screwed you over. You feel anger rising at this realization. Even if he probably didn't mean to, he still cost you a nice paycheck.

For a while, you try to keep a close eye on him but the other customers keep you busy.

Especially when a guy wins big and throws around for everyone. Of course, this is a cause for celebration for everyone.

Now with the alcohol level raised you have to use your kicking abilities a few times. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You handle yourself well and the owner kicks a few rowdy guests out.

Finally, it calms down a bit in the early hours of the morning.

You sigh deeply, but it was pretty successful. You got a big tip from one guy.

The goblin is forgotten by now.

"I don't need you for the rest of the night." This is the owner's way of telling you to go home and rest.

"Thanks. Don't make too long." You glance around at the few leftover guests.

"No worries, I will kick em out soon." He grumbles.

You take the food and head out the backdoor.

The cool night air feels good on your skin, you take a deep breath and start walking.

Once, you pass by a tight ally, and you notice a group of guys harassing someone.

Under your watch! It seems to be three guys, all rather drunk. You can take them.

You walk towards the guys. "Hey, I think that's enough."

"Huh, what's that? Are you kiddn me?" One of the drunks looks towards me.

"Whatever that guy did, he had enough. You all don't want to go to jail for killing a guy, do you?" You huff at them, trying to look bigger than you are.

"Aw, come on, he has it comin. This guy is a cheat." The other man kicks the poor victim.

You shake your head. "Come on guys, just go home, he learned his lesson."

The guy on the floor groans. "I'll be good, I swear." He doesn't sound super convincing, to be honest.

The drunks shuffle around. Seemingly unhappy to leave.

"Guys go home. You got your money back, so your wife won't be mad,, but they might be if you are in jail for murder." You try to convince them.

The guys seem to freeze up. "Ah, well, it's late anyway. You better not show your face here again." With that, they shuffle off.

You sigh with relief when they walk away. You then go to check on the man on the floor.

Now you notice it's the Goblin you saw earlier. His glasses are shattered on the floor, revealing his blue eyes. So it might be that thief from the other night after all.

"Ugh… that hurt. Thanks for that." He staggers while trying to get up.

"You might want to go to a doctor for these injuries." You glare at him.

"What's with that look? Do I know you? D-don't tell me I owe you money?!" Suddenly he seems to be much better and gets up. Seemingly trying to get some distance between you.

"I don't even know you." You glare at him. "Though I'd say you owe me for saving your butt." You feel like he is pretty ungrateful.

"Well, thanks then… Umm, I got no cash, but here I got this necklace." He rummages through his pockets and pulls out a necklace from somewhere.

He dangles it in front of you.

You can only frown at it. "Gee, thanks."

"Hey, it ain't any day that I give stuff like that. So be grateful." He huffs at you.

"I'd be more grateful if it wasn't gaudy or fake." You take the clearly fake jewelry. Maybe Eve will like it.

"Fake? You can tell with just one glance?" He seems impressed.

You feel like he has just seen right through you. "It's a special talent." You shrug and play it cool.

"Well, in that case. I could use your special skills for a job. I need someone to tell me what the valuables are." He changes right into business mode.

"Are you offering illegal work to me?" You act all offended.

"Come on, the job in that dingy bar doesn't pay well. I'd split 90:10." He smiles at you.

"I gladly take that 90 percent, very generous." You know that's not his offer,, but he somehow irritates you.

"It'll be 10 for you,, obviously." He shakes his head.

"No, thanks. I don't trust you anyway." You glare at him.

"Fine, how about 30 percent?" He throws his hand up as if he is being generous.

"More like 70 for me if you can't even tell what's fake." You can't believe that you are still talking to this guy.

He sighs. "Alright, I get it, same risk same reward right? So 50:50. My last offer."

"You seem quite desperate. What kind of stuff are we talking about here, anyway?" Now you are getting curious.

"It's an old mansion. Real old money. Real old scum, too. I just want to grab some of their valuables. It's not like they're gonna miss it anyway." He is vague,, but you somehow feel like you know what place he is talking about.

"Does that happen to be the raven mansion?" The place where your heist was interrupted.

His eyes go wide. "How'd you know?"

"Let's just say that I got interrupted in my own business by some amateur." You glare at him.

"Wait… t-that was you? Oh man, you were ama… umm I mean you were okay." The tips of his ears glow dark.

"You should grovel for what you have done. Screwed me right out of a job." Finally, you can let your anger out.

"I had no idea you were there. I'm sorry." He seems at least half earnest. "So that only means you already know the place, and you can finish the other job there too. I'd take no cut of that either. See, I'm very generous."

"Says the guy that offered me ten percent." You huff at him.

"That was just testing the waters, I'd given you at least 30." He puffs his cheeks. "So it's all settled then?"

"No, I still don't trust you." You eye him carefully.

"What would it take for you to take the job?" He asks, also looking for a sign of weakness in me.

"Well, first of all your name." This is an important first step, at least.

"Ah, could've said you were interested. I mean, you were eyeing me in the bar the whole time. I'm down if you are." He calmly shrugs.

You take a step towards him. "You wish." You look him right in the eyes, glaring at him.

He awkwardly looks away. "J-just saying I'm a handsome goblin…"

"I have seen better. Besides, it means that you checked me out, doesn't it?" You grin at him.

His cheeks turn dark. "N-no, I just felt a burning gaze on me the entire time."

"That was disdain and nothing else." You cross your arms.

"Call it whatever you want." He huffs and turns his head awkwardly. "Anyway, how am I supposed to show that you can trust me?"

"How about telling me your name?" You eye him with suspicion.

"I'm the great Mammon. Better not forget it." He puffs his chest in a display of pride.

You don't acknowledge his presentation whatsoever. "What are you planning to do with that treasure?"

"I'm gonna sell it for cash to pay some debts. I might keep a thing or two for my collection too." Mammon seems pretty honest about it, at least.

"With that, you mean you pawn it and gamble." You only can guess,, but his behavior at the bar speaks volumes.

He seems to feel called out. "Hey, I'm good at gambling, just some people think I'm too good ya know?"

"Nobody is good at it, it's just luck and in your case cheating. You should know better than to gamble all your cash." You start to lecture him.

"I get it, I get it." He sighs. "You sound like my big bro." He sighs deeply. "So, this is all you want to know?"

You think for a moment. "I don't know,, but I guess it's enough for now. I'd wish I had some security at least.” You sigh. "I know it can't be helped."

"I get ya, you've got a life you can't just go or whatever." Mammon seems to agree with you. "Alright, I don't like doing this,, but I got something that might convince you." He then starts to rummage through his vest, he obviously has some hidden pockets in there.

He then produces a gold coin. "Here ya go. I want it back after the job is done. So better not lose it." Mammon seems a bit reluctant to let the coin go.

"This coin seems important to you." You carefully inspect it, it's real, but there seems to be some story here.

"Goldie is my personal good luck charm." He looks almost fondly at the coin.

You smile, somehow this is cute. When you realize your smile, you make your face freeze once more.

"Alright, I acknowledge you as my partner." You reach your hand out to him.

"So that's what it took,, huh?" He seems a bit confused but also relieved.

You shake hands and the deal is sealed.

Mammon suggests a meeting point in a few days' time. He needs to heal and prepare after all.

You also have to make sure your siblings are taken care of. So this works for you.

[crushedbyhyperbole]

A Tale of Fingers, Holes & Balls

Thanks @eurynome827​ , you know I love a good balls prompt ;)  Here’s Bucky with some date-stealin’ antics.  Hope you enjoy <3

++++++++  separates flashback from present

Words: ~ 1200

Warnings:  Bit of sass, reader ditches her date, little bit in there about some insecurities/trauma but it’s very mild and in passing.

It’s dim and cozy in the bar where you sit with your sister and her husband on this kind of double date thing you’ve got happening.  You never imagined, not in your wildest dreams, that you’d be introducing Bucky Barnes, Avenger and one time Fist of Hydra, as your boyfriend. I mean, he’s what? seventy years older than you?  Yeah definitely don’t think about that.

Bucky squeezes your thigh reassuringly as if he senses your unease.  Maybe it’s that you’re thinking about his past, he hopes not, or maybe it’s the question that just came out of your sister’s mouth.

“So, how did you guys meet?” Her eyes are glittering with the effects of wine and intrigue.  “Was it some daring rescue of a damsel in distress?”

Bucky’s laugh is so pure and good, bringing warmth to your chest when he throws his head back in genuine mirth; after all he’s been through, you’re amazed he can still laugh but that’s one of the things you love about him.

“If anything it was me who needed rescuing,” Bucky squeezed your thigh again, playfully this time, “turns out she’s quite passionate about balls.”

You cut through the titters of laughter.  “Now just wait a second, you’re not telling the story!”

“You want to tell it?”

“It was my ball, I’m telling it.”

Bucky raises your hand to his lips and lays a soft kiss there.  “I’m in trouble now.”

“So, it was last year on July 4th and I was out on a blind date that cousin Sherry set me up on, you remember that hot guy she lived next to?  Drew?”  You side-eyed Bucky to see his reaction, and of course he’s rolling his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way.

“Good thing I’m not insecure.”  He winks at you.

“Anyway, he took me bowling and we were gonna watch the fireworks after but then Bucky happened…”

 ++++++++

It wasn’t that Drew was boring, but he really was boring; boringly vain and he was a sore loser. You’d told him you liked bowling but you hadn’t told him that Pops used to take you bowling every week, or that you had your own ball, or that you were really good.

If a guy can take a beating with a little humility then he’s well on his way to being a keeper, you always said.

You’d played your first game and were about to start a second when a rowdy group of people arrived at the lane next to you; five of them, two redhead women and three men, and jesus if two of them weren’t made of solid muscle.

Focus.  The bowling is everything.

Half the game in you went to take your turn, Drew watching you appreciatively as you bent over. Well at least you might get a night of passion out of him, hopefully his bedroom antics were better than his patter because boy! this guy had the personality of soggy bread.

“Uhh.”  You grumbled when your ball wasn’t on the return rack. It definitely wasn’t there and it wasn’t as if you could miss the neon pink and black geometric pattern, it even had your name on it.

As you scanned around the lanes you saw your ball in the hands of the dark-haired beefcake in the adjoining lane.  A quick glance at their screen told you his name was “Buckinator”?  He scored eight, leaving a seven-ten split with your ball.

“I like that one.”  He said as he returned to the rack to collect the ball.

“That’s my ball.”  You said, meeting his gaze firmly.

“I don’t mind sharing,” he smiled softly, “I mean, they’re all communal balls right?”

“Nope.”  You popped the p as you picked up your ball and went to bowl, getting your third strike in a row. A turkey.

While Drew was taking his turn, you noticed Buckinator had your ball again, it glided down the lane catching the seven pin and chipping it across into the ten for a spare.

“Way to go Bucky!” The blonde beefcake called out.

“Hey man!”  You were on your feet and stomping the short distance over to the man to verbally assault him.  “What’s a big beefy guy like you need with a little 8 anyway? Shouldn’t you be hefting a 16 or an 18 or something?  Surprised you can stuff your big manly sausage fingers into my tiny holes,”

At first Bucky was taken aback but then he started laughing

“Hey, y/n, chill,” Drew hissed as he came to pull you away, “I can’t take those guys in a fight.”

“There won’t be a fight, man.”  Bucky reassured.  “Wow, you’re a feisty one.”

You crossed your arms across your chest.  “It really is my ball.”  You grumbled.

“I see that now,” Bucky said holding up your ball and examining the name, “y/n.”

You glared at him until he handed the ball back to you.

“I’m real sorry I offended you and used your ball.  Honestly I thought you were just being a Karen.”  He chuckled and extended his hand.  “Name’s Bucky.”

“Y/n.”  You got your bristling under control and relaxed, taking Bucky in fully now that the flames of resentment were fading; he really was a work of art.  Suddenly you wished you weren’t here on a date with Drew, well not suddenly but for a different reason.  “Better get back.”

“There’s no chance you’d consider sharing?”  Bucky asked hopefully as he searched the rack for a similar ball to yours.  “Maybe I can play you for shares?”

“Like if you beat me I share?”

“Just like that.”

“You’re on!”

And just like that Drew was forgotten – he was lame anyway, and you played Bucky for shared use of your ball.  He gave you emotion, excitement and laughter, and took his defeat like a pro.  You learned the rest of their names (Natasha, Wanda, Bruce and Steve)  and that it was Steve’s birthday.

Afterwards you went with them to watch the fireworks and Bucky gave you his jacket when you got cold. He was charming and chivalrous and at the end of the night he kissed your hand and asked if he could see you again. Of course the answer was yes.

Weeks down the line he told you he was an Avenger, wanting to be sure you liked him for him, not for his status.  He also told you his history too but that came a little later when he was ready to share it.

  ++++++++

“That’s it, he mistook my bowling ball for his in the shared ball return.”  You summarise.

“Yup.”  Bucky chuckles.  “A terrible crime.”

“So, are there any plans for some little super soldier babies?  I can’t wait to be an aunt.” Your sister is practically giddy, watching the way you two gravitate to one another and revolve around each other like two suns burning bright with love.

“Christ, sis!  You wanted my toys when we were kids now you’re after my ovaries,”

“Soooo…”  Bucky steps in; he knows you aren’t keen on having kids and he doesn’t know if he can or should with his serum situation.  “How about you guys, how did you come to be together?  Spare no detail, I want to hear it all.”

Crisis averted.  You settle against your man and listen contently to the story you’ve heard a dozen times before.  You’re happy and life is good.

[jewishtwilightrenaissance]

Two Become One

Notes: Since I myself am a Jew and both the culture & faith is really important to me, I wanted to add that into the story to add some depth and something for the characters to bond over. I got really emotional about it towards the end, but hopefully it just adds to the story!

Also, this originally started as a ‘Life and Death’ fic with Billy’s female version, Bonnie Black, but I really wanted to celebrate OG Billy first. So let me know if y’all want to see that, too!

Context & Plot: The reader is in their mid-20′s and has just recently moved to Forks. By being a member of the Forks Intracommunal Committee, the reader happens to meet Billy Black, a Quileute Council member who serves on the Forks Committee with her. They strike up a friendship that soon evolves into a romance.

Word Count: 3,048

“____!” A familiar voice cut through the din of the committee, drawing your attention from your notepad. You looked up and over your shoulder to see Billy Black wheeling towards you with a bright smile on his face. “How are you?”

“Billy, hi. I’m good,” you answered. As Billy approached the table, you nudged the folding chair on your right to one side to allow enough room for his wheelchair. “Meeting’s about to start. You got here just in time.”

He hummed in response. “I had a few things to take care of back home. Namely Jacob and the other kids,” Bonnie added with a chuckle.

Somewhere in your chest, you felt a muscle tighten. You’d heard plenty about the escapades of Billy’s youngest child, a rowdy teen who just so happened to be about 10 years younger than you. That in and of itself wasn’t a bad thing, but it did remind you that you were at least 20 years out of Billy’s age range. You bit back a sigh and turned your attention back to your notepad, eyeing your hastily scribbled notes and doodles.

You and Billy exchanged a few more pleasantries before the meeting officially started a few minutes later. A few local business owners and church leaders brought up whatever it was they had to say but in all honesty, you had trouble concentrating on them with Billy sitting right next to you. It was ridiculous - you were a mature adult who had left her puberty years well behind her, but sitting next to your crush made you feel like a teenager all over again. His long hair,  dark eyes, his smile - they were all so rich and full of life, full of energy just like Billy. And like a damn prepubescent, you’d fallen for it all.

A nudge against your thigh caught your attention and you blinked yourself back to reality. Billy was leaning in your direction, one arm braced against his wheelchair, and there was a note pushed into your line of sight. ‘Today is more boring than usual. I think I caught Hank dozing off.’ You let out a quick breath through your nose and bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

Grabbing your pen, you wrote back, ‘I think I almost caught myself dozing off,’ and passed the note to Billy’s end of the table. Crush or no crush, Billy was also your best (if not only) friend in Forks and you loved the absolute hilarity of passing notes with your 40+ bestie in the middle of class a meeting.

Eventually, the meeting came to a close and it was your turn to share with the committee (and hopefully no one would be ignoring you like you had been earlier). Energy was thrumming in your fingertips as you anxiously gathered and regathered your notes and pen, 15 sets of eyes on you. You cleared your throat.

“So as I hope you all remember, Forks’ spring interfaith gathering will be in 2 weeks time on the 21st. First, I want to share how excited I am.” By now your nerves had turned to eagerness, and you rubbed your palms together with a smile. “But I also want to say thank you to everyone here for allowing me to run this event, seeing as I’m so new to the community. I especially want to thank Father Thomas, Pastor Martinez, Pastor O’Callaghan, and Billy Black for working with me and allowing me to work with their communities. It really means the world to me.

“I also have some really awesome news regarding the event. As you all know, there are no synagogues or notable Jewish communities under an hour away from Forks. But I’ve managed to reach out to a few Jews individuals and families in the county who are going to be reading some prayers and scripture with me. Other than that, I don’t have anything else to update you on. But I’m excited to see everyone there!”

Some scattered applause and supportive remarks followed your announcement before the committee leader brought the meeting to an end. After fielding a few questions about the event, most of the committee members had started to leave. Billy, you noticed, had stayed behind, as if he was waiting for you. Or so it seemed, if the curious shine in his eyes was anything to go by.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Yes?”

“I received an interesting letter in the mail this morning,” Billy said, the corner of his lips twisting into a knowing smile. Your cheeks immediately flushed and you dipped your head to avoid his gaze for a moment, as if you’d been caught red-handed with your hand in the cookie jar.

“You did, huh?”

Billy laughed; music to your ears. “You really didn’t have to send me a thank you card, ____.”

You shrugged, looking up a little shyly through your eyelashes. “You’ve made me feel really welcomed here, Billy. Not just as a fellow committee member, but as a friend. Inviting me into your home, introducing me to your family, everything! It really means a lot. I-I... I just wanted to show you that I appreciate it.” And, you added to yourself, I guess it doesn’t hurt that I have feelings for you.

There was a tenderness to Billy’s eyes that made you feel some type of way. You could tell he was touched by your gesture.

“Thank you.” He backed away from the table and waited for you to follow suit. Once you had gathered your things and pushed your chair in, he started wheeling alongside you, keeping pace with your footsteps. “If your offer still stands, I’d be happy to come over tonight.”

You could’ve sworn your heart skipped a beat. When you first sent out Billy’s letter, you’d invited him to come to your place for Shabbat dinner as a way of showing your thanks and also respect for his culture by sharing yours in return. You may have also had a little bit of wine at the time and had plans on making the evening romantic-coded.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d really want to join me or not,” you said hesitantly. “But-”

“I do. Like you said, there aren’t many Jews around Forks and certainly not out in La Push. It would be good to learn more about your people and traditions, the things that are important to you.”

You caught Billy’s eyes and smiled. “Like you did with me.”

G-d, you were such a sucker for his shining eyes. Deep and dark like the forest itself, like the rocks and sand on the beaches, like rich coffee grounds at the bottom of a mug.

He nodded. “Yes.”

By now, the two of you had left the meeting room behind and were in the parking lot outside. The sun was peeking through the heavy cloud cover while a gentle misting of rain swirled in the air. You could see that Billy’s truck had been parked a few spaces away from your own.

“It’s close to 4:30,” you said after checking your phone. “I’m lighting my candles around 6 tonight. Did you want me to give you a ride to my place or would you like to come over a little later?” You’d hardly given Billy a second to think before adding, “I still have some cooking to do, but you’re more than welcome to relax while I do that.”

Billy nodded thoughtfully. “You have any beer?”

“I may have one or two cans that I saved just in case you were ever over,” you admitted.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Shabbat evenings were always hectic for you and this night was no different. Between keeping your challah from burning, keeping an eye on the clock, ensuring the rest of the food was kept warm without overcooking, and making sure Billy felt comfortable and welcome in your home, you were sure you’d gained a few gray hairs. Luckily, though, dinner was ready at about the time the sun finally set and the twilight hour descended.

After setting the challah on your best dish (your challah board and cover was still missing in the abyss of your unopened moving boxes), serving up two plates of food and placing them just so on the table, you dug out your candlesticks and shabbos candles. Billy watched you silently as you wrapped the bottom of the candles in foil and balanced them in the candlesticks.

“The candles are meant to stay lit until they burn out,” you explained. “It’s just easier to clean up this way.”

You fidgeted with the silverware at your place setting, then the vase of flowers in the center of the table, then finally sighed and let your hands fall to your sides. You’d been so anxious about wanting to put on a good first Shabbat impression for Billy that you’d forgotten the night was meant to be enjoyable for both of you.

Billy, it seemed, had picked up on your anxious energy and kindly said, “It looks wonderful, ____.”

“Thanks.” You chewed on your bottom lip somewhat thoughtfully, giving the table a final glance over. “I suppose we should start before the food gets cold, huh?”

You pulled out your chair and settled down as Billy moved his wheelchair into the open space across the table from you, his hat placed on the couch behind him. The tiny box of matches rattled when you slipped out a match and lit it. The warm, comforting glow of the candles soon followed and you felt your anxieties dissipate in response. You circled your hands once, twice, three times over the flames, drawing their light in towards your body. You took a breath - in through your nose, out through your mouth - and let your eyes flutter closed, your hands hovering above them to block out the extra light.

“Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav vitzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Shabbat.” Then again, in English. “Blessed are You, Adonai, Ruler of the Universe, who sanctified us with the commandment of lighting Shabbat candles.”

When you opened your eyes again, you looked across the table at Billy and saw the reflection of the candles flickering in his eyes. In that moment, bathed in holy light, he was stunning. You gasped and smiled and committed the moment to memory as he gazed back at you, wordless yet clearly moved. Your cheeks were already starting to hurt from smiling so broadly.

“Shabbat shalom, Billy,” you all but whispered.

His eyes, large and all-consuming in their beauty and warmth, drew you in. “Shabbat shalom.”

After the lighting of the candles came one of your favorite songs, the song that welcomed in peace the Sabbath angels into your home. You offered Billy a short explanation of the song’s meaning before finally singing your own rendition. He was silent the entire time and you hoped that he didn’t feel left out at all, but the emotion shining in his eyes told you that your worries were the farthest thing from the truth. Next, came Eshet Chayil, recited in English from your old siddur. And finally, Vayechulu and Kiddush.

Your voice started out as a whisper, recalling the holy memory of creation and the day of rest as first practiced by G-d Himself. Prompting Billy to repeat after you, you raised your glass of wine. “L’chaim!” There was an indescribable joy in seeing Billy participate in your culture, in hearing him say something as simple as a mere l’chaim and knowing that he honored it, respected it, and honored and respected you as well. It was because of that realization that your heart swelled with pride and tears threatened to choke your words as you finished the Kiddush blessing.

“Blessed are you, Adonai our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, who has sanctified us with his commandments and favored us. And given us in love and favor his holy Shabbat as an inheritance, as a remembrance of the act of creation.” Here your voice faltered. In the presence of someone you loved, in the presence of the Sabbath angels and even the Divine Presence itself, you felt the calling of your people. “For this day is the beginning of all holy days, a remembrance of the Exodus from Egypt. For you have chosen us and you have blessed us from among all the nations.” Indeed, you were chosen. Like those who had come before you, G-d chose you to be His, to be given the gift of His commandments. And in this moment, you were choosing to share that inheritance with Billy, to give him a window into your world to see it in beautiful detail. “And you have bequeathed us your holy Shabbat in love and favor. Blessed are you, Lord, who sanctifies Shabbat.”

Both you and Billy were left speechless once the final words of Kiddush left your lips. You felt raw and exposed, bare for Billy to see every detail, every flaw, every crease and line from your body down to your soul. Is this how he had felt when he brought you to the reservation and showed you his own traditions, welcomed you into his home and shared the stories of his people? Did he know how highly your regarded him, his people? Did he understand that you could see that same regard in his eyes as he watched you now?

Your voice cracked when you finally spoke again. “Billy.” You swallowed nervously as a number of mixed emotions began to bubble inside you. “Thank you for being here tonight.”

“It’s my honor.” His voice seemed raw.

You reached across the table with an open hand. He gently placed his hand in yours and you both smiled. “Can I tell you something?” He nodded, his eyes again catching the light of the candles. “I like you.” Cringe. “I really like you. More than a friend.” Billy remained silent, only raising his eyebrows in an entirely imperceptible expression. “I know this might be weird to you. I don’t know. And, I mean, the chance of you also being interested in me is so low. I get that. No matter what, I want to be your friend. But... but having you here tonight, after learning about you and your people, the traditions you hold dear, and after sharing my own with you, I realize that I want to share more with you.

“I want to hear more about all the trouble Jacob’s getting up to and how your daughters are doing. I want to hear more about what you have to say about the things that are important to you, even if it’s just some stupid football game.” Billy chuckled and squeezed your thumb. Your heart was pounding deep in your chest as if it were going to explode. “I see you, Billy. And I know you see me, too. And I never want to stop seeing you.”

The room was silent. So silent that it was almost uncomfortable, except for the occasional crackling of the candles. Billy, still quiet and with an unreadable expression, slipped his hand from yours and moved his wheelchair back. Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. You retracted your arm as if you’d been burnt and held it against your chest. You wanted to look away, you didn’t want to see his expression turn angry or disappointed as you were sure it would, but you also couldn’t tear your gaze from those deep, dark eyes.

“Fuck, Billy, I’m sorry.”

Your face fell into your hands. What the hell had you been thinking? What had started out as a beautiful evening was starting to go to shit all because you had to open your dumb mouth.

“____.” Billy’s voice drew you from your inner-scolding. He moved around the dinner table and came to sit beside you. “Don’t apologize.”

By this point, the several sips of wine that you had taken earlier were starting to create a buzzing sensation in your stomach. And Billy’s sudden close proximity was making the buzzing more intense. Oh no.

You felt the skin of his hand rest on your arm; he was warm. “You’re right,” he whispered. “I do see you. I always have.”

You and he had never been quite this close before. You could see in detail the creases at the corners of his eyes, the few stray hairs of his eyebrows, the stubble along his neck and chin. You wondered what aspects of your face stood out to him as his eyes flitted across your features. Billy’s smile was what finally did you in. Were you blushing? You suddenly felt very hot.

He moved his hand from your arm and pushed himself forward until his knees bumped against your chair. Turning in your seat and folding one knee under you, you were able to fully face him. Billy’s gaze dropped to your mouth and paused, and you suddenly either felt like flying or like vomiting.

“Billy?”

You couldn’t have said anything more if you wanted to. Billy leaned forward, took your chin in his hand and guided your mouth to his. Like his hands, his lips were warm. His warmth spread across your mouth and down into your chest where your heart was doing backflips. Blindly, you pawed at his arms, his jacket, trying to find something sturdy to hold onto to remind you that this was absolutely real. Billy’s hand trailed from your chin, across your jaw, and around the nape of your neck where his fingers finally curled into your hair.

A sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan escaped you and Billy swallowed it. Gently and hesitantly, you gave him a little nip on his bottom lip. His lips parted just slightly, his breath hitting your teeth, and you quickly ran your tongue along his skin. He smiled, gripped your hair a little tighter, and then pulled back.

This time when he said your name, it was sweet, reverent. “You’re certainly full of surprises,” he murmured.

You smiled breathlessly. “What can I say? I have no excuse.”

“Thank you,” he said again. “For telling me, for tonight-”

“The night’s not over yet.”

Billy smirked. “No. No, it’s not.”

[saundraswriting]

Missed Signals Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Reki might have a problem. He gets hyperfixated. He is too loud. He has a delayed sleep schedule. He forgets to eat and drink sometimes. He zones out a lot, and even more when he tries to pay attention. He fidgets with his hair and his clothes and his skin to the point of injury. His brain works, sometimes. Other times he has to fight it. He has learned to cope enough over the years but just like everything else, some days are better than others.

WARNINGS: Nothing too grand, descriptions of ADHD symptoms,

NOTES: I am trying to cope with what I am thinking is undiagnosed ADHD by projecting onto my favorite characters. I mean no harm and no offense.

Ao3 // Missed Signals Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Next Chapter

With the sound of the last bell, Reki and Langa tore off to the skate park. They had just finished mid terms. Both boys were lookin forward to the three day weekend. They both missed going to 'S' and the skate park and even Joe's place, trying to studying as much as possible. Langa was still terrible with his Japanese and Math even though he was getting better. Reki's English and Biology scores were dismal, but he seemed to be scoring consistently well on his other tests.

"Hey, Langa, Reki! Over here!" Joe called. "Long time no see." The four other skaters were standing near a bench in the skate park all seeming to wait for the two high schoolers.

"Joe! Cherry!" Reki's bright grin was visible to them from the entrance.

"Shadow! Miya!" Langa was a little more subdued in his greater but no less enthusiastic.

Both boys felt a weight shift off their shoulders at the presence of their friends. They were really finished with midterms, they had three days to hang out and skate with each other. Their week of hard work seemed to finally pay off.

"Hello there, boys. How did midterms go?" Cherry asked. He was dressed in his robes but had his hair up.

"I think we did okay. It helps that we struggle in different subjects. I am glad we decided to take the days to review things." Reki said.

"It was a smart idea to use past test to study off of, instead of just notes. Your notes are also so lacking but you do so well on the tests." Langa commented absently as he bent to retie his shoe.

"What do you mean?"' Joe asked Langa. They all watched as Langa fiddled with his shoelaces.

"Oh. Um. Reki often forgets his homework or his notes are very scattered. Rarely does he remember his homework and take good notes. But he scores high on his tests. I even overheard the teachers discussing that if he applied himself and did his homework and took better notes Reki easily could be a top student." At the second mention of his name, Reki stopped looking at his phone and came back to the conversation, glancing at Langa who was sighing at his shoe.

"Langa, your aglet is broken. You'll need new laces. but for now I think some tape will do." Reki said. Everyone looked at him confused. "What? The thing on the end of your laces is called an aglet. It is derived from old French meaning 'needle' or 'pin' designed for lacing shoes or bags easier. Originally they were for ornamental reasons." Reki rattled off unprompted into the silence. His face grew pink at the attention of the others.

"Reki, why do you know that?" Miya asked.

"I had a period of time where I customized shoes for people. I liked how different it was from doing a board. I could show off my art skills better and helped steady my hand a bit more." Reki shrugged, not seeing the big deal.

"You know the old French origins of a part of a shoe no one cares about but you can't be bothered to learn English?" Cherry demanded.

Reki shrugged again, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassment evident. "I don't mean to not do it. I sit down and I get ready to do it but then my mind blanks. Sometimes I can force myself but then I am frustrated quickly and easily irritated. Sometimes I work on it at school but then my notes are shitty." Reki rubbed his forehead, voice hard. "Sometimes the lights are too bright. Sometimes my brain says no to English but yes to physics and even sometimes my brain says no to everything and I just sit there telling myself all the things I need to do but it is all too much and not enough." Reki's hands begin to shake, while Joe and Cherry share a look over his head.

"Skating is the only thin that helps. But when I skate I give up time that I could be studying or working on the homework. I don't mean to be bad at school, just sometimes I can't help it." Reki seemed to curl in on himself, drawing his shoulders up and ducking his head down. His voice grew small and weak.

"Reki we didn't mean to make you upset. We were just curious. You aren't the only person that has issues organizing their thoughts or staying focused. Has this been an issue for a while?" Cherry gently asked. Reki seemed to relax when the group stayed quiet, seeming to expect derogatory comments.

"I think I began noticing in my second year of middle school." Reki spoke to the ground, unable to look at anyone in the eye. Langa could see his muscles tensing, sensing Reki's desire to bolt.

"That is enough of that. We came here to skate. Let's skate." Joe broke the tension seeming to sense Reki's urge to flee.

"Yes! I have something I want to show you slimes." Miya skated off after joe towards the halfpipe, throwing taunts over his shoulder as he went. Reki and Lana flew after him, throwing their own teasing comments at Shadow, who deemed himself the adult supervisor of the rowdy children.

Cherry and Joe hung back a bit, watching them all tear off. The previous conversation still lingering in the air. Both adults tracking a brightly laughing Reki as he skated around Miya and Langa.

"Poor kid. That must be so frustrating. He tried to make it out like it was no big deal but even if he learned some coping mechanisms, they won't work all the time if he doesn't know what the source of the problem is." Cherry said.

"He won't. He isn't self aware enough to know that he even has symptoms. He seems to have an executive dysfunction though." Joe said, thinking back to his high school days, where everything was too much and not enough, the days of skating until the small hours to hopefully be able to focus, the cooking and baking he did to keep from tearing things apart.

"Maybe we can help him? Maybe if we play our cards right he will even let us. He is so smart, it must be terrible to be stuck in your own head like that." Cherry said, finally picking up his board. Joe followed suit.

"The hardest part is the executive dysfunction. You need and want to do the thing but because you're frontal cortex didn't develop fully you completely freeze and your brain checks out and you are worthless all day. No one else can really get it unless they know. It is hard to explain it to neurotypicals." Joe tried to explain to the best of his abilities. Cherry nodded and made a mental note to research neurotypicals and neurodevelopment disorders.

The two adults finally made it over to see everyone was in the middle of a trick imitating game. Miya was keeping the tricks to a lower difficulty than normal so Reki wouldn't get to disheartened Joe noticed. Langa was doing pretty well, some of the more subtle footwork tripping him up since he wasn't a long term veteran. They skated for a few more hours before finally taking a water break. They were leaning against the fence or the bench or even each other in Reki and Langa's case. Langa had his full attention on Reki as he lectured on another topic, Cherry wasn't sure but it seemed to be about the manhole covers in the streets.

"They have to be round cause any other shape will fall in when turned upright. It is to save the people who are in the pipe below it." Reki was saying. Langa soaked up every word, and Cherry almost felt sorry for how gone the kid was for Reki.

"Honestly kid, why do you know that?' Joe said, looking just as interested. Cherry could only sigh and hope he wasn't as readable on how gone for his idiot gorilla.

"I collect interesting facts. I like to keep them in my brain, never know when you need them." Reki said. Joe just smiled down at the young man, fondly.

"Of course you do, kid. Of course you do."

[syncrime]

Glass Bottom Secrets

[ Gen | Judge Eyes/Judgment | Higashi-centric ]

So the ao3commentoftheday account right here on tumblr (I'm too shy to actually ping the account, so this is what you get jksdfh), put up a short fic challenge, and I figured why not try to partake!!! This is the first prompt of hopefully the lot of them, and since it lined up pretty well with something I wanted to write out anyway, here we are!! I think the prompt fills are going to be a mixed bag of Judgment/RGG and DMC, with most of them going to DMC, but I'm opening up with Judgment today.

It references an old text post I made about Higashi and what he thinks about Yagami, as well as an interesting translation tidbit, but that's about all the context you'd really need. So without further ado, here's prompt number 1:

A conversation you wish had happened in canon.

———

He's not usually like this; so brazen and bold in his opinions—especially when it comes to other people, and especially when it comes to the Matsugane Family's little wonder boy—but Higashi is drunk tonight. It's a rare occurrence for someone so lowkey and easily overlooked, someone so quiet and nervously polite that the red in his cheeks is more often attributed to his mental state ("what're you so nervous about, Higashi?" "loosen up!") than how many he's had to drink. And it's rarer still that he feels a warm buzz of courage begin to brew in his blood.

He's had a lot tonight, it seems.

"Did you hear Yagami's trying to get into fucking law?"

Higashi's ears perk at the sound of that boy's name, though he makes no outward notion of such beyond a cursory glance at the man who said it. He quietly lifts his drink to his lips and takes another long sip, trying to tune out the boisterous cheer of his fellow family to focus on what's being said. It doesn't particularly matter who is providing the gossip on the Matsugane Family's newest hotshot, only that Higashi hears of it and takes it in. He does nothing with this information most of the time, merely letting it sit to brew with a looming bitterness that even he thinks is unlike him.

"You serious? That punk? Him and what fuckin' money?"

"Whose d'you think?"

"The boss? Fuck off. That little shit's gotten too comfortable."

"Yeah, no shit. Got no idea what the boss sees in him…"

The rest of the conversation is tuned out after that; Higashi has all that he needs to fuel his petty little one-sided feud. He frowns into his drink, suddenly finding the deep, mellow flavour to be sour on his tongue. Ever since Yagami started showing up around the Family office, things have been different. Not in any overt way, not in any way that changes the way the Family runs, but it's something much more personal that Higashi struggles with, and struggles to admit.

He's just a kid. A spoiled punk who doesn't know the first thing about suffering or working hard or going hungry. It was luck, and luck alone that Matsugane gave him the honour of being taken in. It was luck, and luck alone that Kaito's taken a shine to him in the exact same measure. Over time, over drinks, over quick glances at Yagami's comings and goings, Higashi's thoughts and feelings about him began to take shape, and it all boiled down to one singular phrase:

It isn't fair.

But he knows it isn't as simple as that, and that perhaps makes it all the more infuriating. Yagami has no criminal record; he has a future; he has potential; he has something that Higashi, and so many others of his kind, doesn't. Yet all of that is but salt in the wound, biting and stinging. Around and around this poison swirls in his mind and heart, a slow and insidious sensation that gnaws and pricks, bit by bit. And he's well and truly fed up with it by now.

"Aniki…" His voice is quiet, despite the first hints of anger slowly bubbling to the surface. In the bar stool beside him, Kaito swivels around, all smiles. His spirits are high tonight, in contrast to Higashi.

"What's up?" Kaito snorts, amused at the endearing crease in Higashi's brow. "You look like someone pissed in your drink."

"He's a disease." Again, he's unsure, his words holding neither impact nor emphasis despite being emboldened by one too many empty glasses of whiskey.

Kaito raises a brow. "Ah? Who is?"

Higashi sucks in a breath and straightens his posture, feeling the heat, the strength, flow through his body to settle in his gut. And, guided by the bravery of drink, he speaks more clearly. "Yagami." He sniffs, a little pathetically, but the alcohol can't fix everything. "If you shorten yakubyougami, you get Yagami. So he's a disease. And it's better for the family if you cut him off now."

He's met with a stretch of stunned silence, and all of it serving to fill Higashi with dread until cold beads of it dot the inside of his palms. Did he just offend his aniki by saying this? Did he go too far? Oh god, what if Matsugane himself finds out?? But his worries are dispelled with a sharp bark of raucous laughter and a hearty, full palmed clap on his back that makes him jerk forward, his glasses sliding almost all the way down the bridge of his nose from the sheer force of it.

"Shit, how long you been sitting on that one for, eh Higashi? Yakubyougami. Holy fucking shit that's a great one—"

Hiding a telling flare of heat in his cheeks, Higashi readjusts his glasses, returning them to their proper place on his face. He sniffs again, a little indignant this time. "I'm being serious. He'll bleed the family dry at this rate. It isn't right."

It isn't fair.

Expelling a deep breath, such that Kaito's entire body physically deflates and he sinks onto his elbows against the bar counter, he concedes. But not with a faint quirk of a smile. Something endeared and hopeful. "Listen, I know what you're getting at, Higashi. I know a lot of the other boys aren't happy about it either and want him gone just as bad as you do. But there's– Ta-bo is… he's special. He's got something in him that can change people's lives for the better. I've seen it in what he does. I've felt it in his fists." Kaito then turns his eyes onto Higashi, his expression far too soft for the Lieutenant of the Matsugane Family. "Just give it some time - you'll see it one day, too."

—

He doesn't. Not until years later, when he's sitting on the floor of Charles wiping blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, courtesy of Yagami and Kaito. He realises, with a cruel irony, that it tastes just as sour in his mouth as that drink from that night.

It's both embarrassing and relieving to have the whole Red Nose incident finally out in the open; he's carried it with him for so long now, forced to change and grow before he was ready to, that there were days where he couldn't recognise the man he'd become in the mirror. Yagami's desire for the truth lead him to a freedom he didn't think was possible under his circumstances, and that bitter resignation is finally lifting off his shoulders.

He doesn't hate Yagami any less, but he recalls that distant night in a rowdy little bar, packed to burst with equally rowdy yakuza, and he finally sees it.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Go in Shadows

Pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Alcohol use, drunken behaviour, angst, eventual smut. Word count: tbc

Summary: Summers spent with her best friend, Helaena, are the highlight of her year. However, a week-long stay at her place does not go as she expects it to when surrounded by one Targaryen brother that she pines for unrequitedly, and another that can't seem to stand her.

Author's note: Happy birthday @lauraneedstochill! You may remember a little while ago I sent you an ask that was prodding you for info on your favourite fan fiction tropes - I had an agenda! I remember you saying you don't look forward to your birthday, so I wanted to do something special for you. I didn't get the chance to finish this before I went on holiday, but wanted to show you a teaser of what's to come! Hope you enjoy your day, birthday twinnie <3

The grass tickles delicately at the backs of her bare thighs, causing her to squirm and change position, pulling the hem of her floral summer dress lower as she crosses her legs. It’s a hot and sunny Friday afternoon in July, and she’s making the most of her four day working week by spending her day off in the park with her best friend, Helaena.

Summer has always been her favourite time of year, from the six week long holidays of secondary school to the three month university breaks, and now the stolen afternoons and all too brief weekends of the working week. Helaena has been at her side for all of them. Summer is their time, a season in which their friendship has always thrived, fortified beneath a sun that never sets.

Helaena pauses, keeping the daisy chain she’s making in her hands still as she leans forward ever so slightly, watching intently at the wasp that buzzes around the open bottle neck of Koppaberg Cider that rests beside her, the heat of the day causing droplets of moisture to sweat from the glass.

“That’s going to drown in your cider, if you aren’t careful,” she warns her.

“Mmm,” Helaena muses dreamily, her eyes never leaving the wasp. “It wants the sugar.”

She watches for a few more moments, before it flies away, and then her attention turns back to her daisy chain, her numb nail piercing through the stem of the flower, before threading another through.

“Did your annual leave get approved for next week?” Helaena asks, blue eyes lifting from the floral chain in her hands to look at her hopefully.

“Yeah, I’m all set,” she says excitedly, before taking a swig of her own cider, relishing the way the sweet, berry flavour fizzes against her tongue. “So, what’s the plan?”

It’s not a question she really even needs to ask. It’s the same every year; Alicent takes a week-long trip to Oldtown to visit her father, Otto, and ever since Helaena was considered old enough to no longer accompany her, she stays behind, and the kids are left with a free house. She stays for the entire week, the house large enough that it feels like a holiday without needing to leave King’s Landing. They enjoy seven unsupervised days of swimming in the pool, raiding the fridge, and the inevitable rowdy and out of control parties that Helaena’s older brother, Aegon, insists upon throwing.

And therein lies the real reason she’s asking; to check which of the brothers will be in attendance. She has fancied Aegon for as long as she can remember, though he has never given her a second look beyond viewing her as his younger sister’s best friend. She exists in his shadow, laughing at all of his jokes, living for every thousand watt smile he casts her way, overlooking his often drunken, reckless behaviour, and pretending she doesn’t feel a burning sense of envy at the seemingly never ending rotation of girls he goes out with. His shadow seems to be where she is destined to remain forever, desperate to experience the warmth of his attention turned to her even once. The unrequited feelings weigh heavy upon her heart, tormenting her with soaring hope and devastating reality in equal measure.

As if able to read her mind, Helaena sighs. “Aegon’s going to be there…and Aemond too.”

She groans at this. Helaena’s younger brother, another bane of her existence, though for a completely different reason to Aegon. Aemond genuinely seems to loathe her, actively going out of his way to avoid her, refusing to even look at her if they’re in the same room. His responses are curt, bordering upon rudeness when she has tried previously to engage him in conversation, and so she has given up, taking to ignoring him just as he does to her, though it does not come as naturally to her as it does him. She feels her skin prickle in his presence, fidgeting uncomfortably at the shift in energy in the room whenever he enters. Back in secondary school, she had made an attempt to forge a bond with him, by approaching him with the history essay she was due to hand in, and asking for him to take a look at it in case there were any improvements he thought she could make.

Aemond had scoffed as he’d looked it over, sliding the papers back across the table towards her with a harsh flick of his wrist. “Derivative,” he’d commented dismissively. “The point you’re trying to make is too diffuse for you to adequately summarise it. If you were to improve it, you’d simply have to rewrite it.”

She had walked away holding back tears, bitterly regretting her decision to attempt to extend an olive branch. When the essay had been given back to her she had been awarded an A grade, which made Aemond’s comments even more baffling to her.

“Great,” she says with a roll of her eyes, “assuming he’ll have Alys to keep him busy?”

Helaena gives a solemn shake of her head. “They aren’t together anymore, so please try to be nice to him.”

She looks at Helaena incredulously. “Be nice to him?! Hel, Aemond hates me!”

“He doesn’t,” she replies with a gentle certainty.

“You don’t know that,” she huffs, swigging from her cider bottle once more.

“I do, actually,” Helaena utters, before turning her attention back to her daisy chain.

She feels that Helaena infuriates her almost as much as her brothers do sometimes. Bloody Targaryens.

A week later, her out of office is on and her bags are packed.

Helaena takes her bags, depositing them into an entryway closet to deal with later, the moment she steps through the door of the house, ushering her into the kitchen.

“Want to chop some stuff for me?” She asks. “I’m going to make a jug of Pimm’s for us all to drink by the pool.”

“Us all?” She asks, moving towards the chopping board on the kitchen side, where an assortment of strawberries, mint and cucumber has been set out, ready to be cut up.

“Yeah,” Helaena says, opening a cupboard and rummaging inside of it. “Me, you…Aemond, and Aegon…Aegon’s friend…”

Helaena’s voice tapers off as she pulls a glass jug from a shelf, her gaze turning towards the kitchen doorway.

She looks up from where she has been quartering a strawberry, her grip around the knife handle tightening subconsciously as she takes in the sight of Aegon standing there. But it’s not Aegon that is the issue, it’s the pretty brunette that’s standing next to him.

“Just wondering what’s taking so bloody long with the Pimm’s?” He asks, glancing between her and Helaena. “Are you fermenting the gin from scratch?”

“Hel was waiting for me to arrive,” she offers as a meek explanation, feeling her skin grow warm as he looks at her. “Hi, by the way.”

He fires off a mock salute at her, the casual gesture making her insides wither with disappointment. She was a fool to have expected anything more.

“I’m Cassandra,” the girl standing next to him pipes up with a cheerful smile, “nice to meet you.”

Aegon startles, as if suddenly realising she’s there, turning to look at Cassandra quickly before facing back towards her and Helaena.

“Oh yeah, Cass is gonna be staying for the week. Her brother’s brewery is supplying us with the kegs for Saturday.”

Cassandra nods enthusiastically, her eyes bright. “Royce owns Storm’s End brewery, he’s gonna sort us out with the beer for the party.”

“Lovely,” she says with a tight smile, lowering her eyes back to the chopping board and slicing into a cucumber with more aggression than is necessary. 

“Why don’t you go and get comfy by the pool, Cass,” Aegon says, ushering her away with a smack on the bottom. “I’ll make sure these two hurry the fuck up with the drinks.”

Helaena’s eyes narrow once Cassandra is out of earshot, looking at Aegon as she empties a full bottle of Pimm’s into the glass jug. “You’re sleeping with one of the Baratheon sisters to get free beer? That’s low even for you.”

Aegon shrugs with a smirk. “I’m not above schmoozing for booze, Hel.”

“You’re a pig,” she retorts softly, moving to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of lemonade. “What about what happened with Floris and Aemond?”

Aegon snorts derisively, leaning against the doorframe. “They only kissed.”

“And then she stalked him afterwards…”

“The week of a thousand texts!”

“Fifty seven to be precise. You remember, right?” She asks, turning to her friend for back up.

“Yeah, didn’t Aemond ghost her because she used the incorrect version of ‘your’ in a message?”

Helaena nods. “Yes, that was mean, and she didn’t deserve that. But sending someone so many texts when they clearly aren’t going to reply is a bit…” She wrinkles her nose. “...overbearing.”

“And she left him a five minute long voicemail,” Aegon titters.

“Yeah, you’re a pig,” Helaena insists, sloshing lemonade into the Pimm’s.

“Oh well. Hurry up!” Aegon demands with a clap of his hands, before walking away.

She hands Helaena the chopping board, now laden with chopped up garnishes and watches as she scrapes it into the jug, before stirring it.

Looking up, Helaena takes in the pained expression of her friend, her face softening. “Trust me, as Aegon’s sister, he’s not worth it.”

“I’m fine,” she quips unconvincingly, moving away to fetch glasses from another cupboard. “He’s just messing around.”

“I just think if you’re looking for someone who genuinely cares about you, then you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“What does that mean?” She asks, taking down five glass tumblers from the shelf.

“Just…don’t close yourself off to other possibilities.”

Helaena takes the jug and heads outside to the pool, before she has a chance to respond.

Always so cryptic. It’s infuriating.

To her horror, as she heads out into the garden, glasses gripped between her fingers, Helaena has set herself up on the sun lounger on the furthest end, leaving the only one free between her and Aemond.

She sets the glasses down on the patio table, next to the Pimm’s jug and takes a moment to steel herself, before heading over. Wordlessly, she lays down on the sun lounger, trying to suppress the unease that ripples beneath her skin at the imposing figure of Aemond next to her. His sun lounger has its back propped up, and he sits bolt upright, long silver hair pulled up into a bun and a pair of black Ray Bans perched upon the bridge of his aquiline nose as he reads a philosophy book.

Pretentious twat.

“Aemond, pour us all some Pimm’s,” Helaena says lazily, leaning back on her lounger and propping an arm above her head.

His brow furrows momentarily before he responds. “Why do I have to do it?”

“Because you haven’t done anything to help out with our gathering yet.”

“It’s your gathering,” he retorts, “I just happen to live here. I’m not an active participant.”

She sighs, not wanting to listen to any more of their bickering. “It’s fine, I’ll do it.”

“No, I will,” Aemond snaps, standing abruptly and setting his book down, before storming over to the table.

“Christ, what a prick,” she mutters to herself as she watches him go.

Full fic coming Monday. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

[citizen-l]

02. Window

Chanyeol never thought he'd be under someone's flat throwing tiny rocks at their window. Never in a million years did he imagine himself to be in this position. Sure he did some crazy things in life, but never something as cringe-inducing as this. In broad daylight too. Jesus. 

"Hey!" someone called him and Chanyeol looked back to find Officer Joey looking at him with narrow eyes and creased brows. "You're the kid from last night, aren't you?"

"Hi, yeah," Chanyeol said awkwardly. 

"Why are you throwing stones?"

"No one's answering the buzzer?"

"Ever heard of calling?"

Yeah well, Joey, I would, but I have their phone with me. And while we're talking, Joey, fuck you. God, Chanyeol wanted to scream at the ridiculousness of it. 

Chanyeol never would have forgotten to return Baekhyun's phone that he pocketed in case of an emergency just that morning before taking him to get stitches. Never would have under normal circumstances. But getting a too sweet goodbye strawberry kiss was not a normal circumstance. Chanyeol could feel his ears getting warm and red, and Joey was still there staring at him. 

"I have something that I desperately need to give Baekhyun," Chanyeol said. Judging by the familiar way Baekhyun had talked to Joey before, maybe Joey would leave him alone if he realized Chanyeol wasn't a threat to Baekhyun. "Calling didn't help, and I'm pretty sure Baekhyun really needs this. So, yeah…"

Honestly, Chanyeol would have just found Sehun and given the phone to him and been done with it. But Sehun was MIA with Junmyeon. And Chanyeol hadn't had a chance until this late in the afternoon to come by and hand over the phone. But he'd be lying if he said he kinda maybe didn't want to check if Baekhyun was alright. Oh God, what if he's lying unconscious on the floor again? 

"At this hour, he's probably at some rehearsal, hop in," Joey gestured towards the passenger side. 

Chanyeol was having a hard time digesting what was happening. How did he end up riding shotgun in a police vehicle? How did Joey know so much about Baekhyun's schedule when even Sehun was of no help? What the hell was going on with Chanyeol's life, good lord?

Joey dropped at one of the smaller auditoriums east side of the campus. Chanyeol had never ventured this way, never had any cause to. 

"Tell him I said hi," Joey smirked before leaving Chanyeol there. He probably got off on how shook Chanyeol was. 

The huge double doors opened up to a lobby. The signs said dressing rooms were to the left, and to the right were the rows of identical doors leading to the actual auditorium. For audiences. Chanyeol decided it was best to check there first since he could hear voices and music coming from one of the half opened doors. 

The only auditorium Chanyeol had ever been to on campus was on the north end, the one where the big seminars are usually held. This one was different, definitely not for academic or corporate lectures. The lights, the stage, even the seating was different. This was made for performing musicals like the one a dozen or so people were rehearsing. 

"Oh woe, to be trapped in this age…" a woman wailed dramatically while lying flat on the stage. 

"Oh, what is this I see! Some faerie-like creature come for me?"

Someone sang, another voice joined with a deep baritone that sounded somewhat like Baekhyun, but Chanyeol had never heard him sing before. 

"Hello hello, fair man," someone said. 

"Ah! My prince has come to save me, joy be!" shouted a guy as large as Chanyeol but lankier.

That was when he realized they were all talking about him. A bunch of theatre kids finding a new person interrupting their rehearsal, of course they would be dramatic about it. What did Chanyeol expect? 

"How can I help you, sir?" a brunette girl asked with a fake British accent. 

Someone started singing about waiting for him all her life as he went down the stairs towards the stage where he could spot a guy with a bandaged hand and hoped it was Baekhyun. He was wearing a hat so Chanyeol couldn't clearly see the cotton candy fluff on his head. 

A guy in suspenders and lipstick stopped him by starting to dance suggestively and singing a Burlesque song. God this bunch was loud. Two others came around him, the brunette and another woman with red and white streaks in her black hair and the three started a whole number with impressive impromptu harmonies and suggestive body rolls. 

"Chanyeol?" he heard Baekhyun's surprised voice from the stage. 

There he was, hat in hand, pink hair almost glowing under the harsh light of the stage, eyes squinting to see Chanyeol awkwardly standing as three people sang some jazz song and moved their pelvis in a way that Chanyeol would rather not witness at the moment. 

"Hey, hi," he used Baekhyun's interruption as his getaway card and moved around the dancing trio. "Sorry for barging in like this, just wanted to return this."

Baekhyun jumped straight down from the stage seeing his phone. Chanyeol was momentarily shocked, and the worry he felt in that instant thinking something bad might happen to Baekhyun jumping down from so high nearly rendered him speechless. 

"Oh my God, thank you! I've been looking everywhere for it. I really thought I lost it during my steakout yesterday."

Stakeout?

"Nah I took it with me when I took you to the pharmacy, forgot about it afterwards."

"Well, thank you for bringing it back all the way here."

And then Baekhyun was hugging him, arms around Chanyeol's shoulders, hot breath on the side of his neck, Baekhyun stood on tiptoes and Chanyeol didn't know what to do with his own hands. 

"Why can't I get a man like that?" a girl sighed from one side. 

"Wait, is that the guy? He really carried Baek… I mean I can see he's got…"

"Holy shit, he's real?!"

"Of course he's real, Minseok," Baekhyun said and he let go of Chanyeol. 

"Uh, I should go…" Chanyeol said awkwardly. 

"What? Wait, I haven't done anything to thank you," Baekhyun said. 

But you did, Chanyeol thought. You kissed me. That was a thank you, no? What was the kiss about? Why the fuck did Baekhyun kiss him? God, Chanyeol was going out of his mind trying to figure it out. 

"That's okay, you don't have to…"

"Nonsense, let me just get changed and then I'll treat you to something delicious."

"Hopefully not something too delicious," someone said. 

"Don't forget about the party tonight," someone else said. 

But Chanyeol couldn't focus on all the things everyone was saying. He was finally focused on Baekhyun's outfit. Suspenders, a dirty-white pirate shirt tucked haphazardly into leather pants.

"Be a little more discreet ogling his ass, will you?" The guy with pretty eyes, Minseok whispered near and Chanyeol nearly choked on his spit. 

"Oh leave him be," Another guy, the one who was singing with Baekhyun said, he had a cat-like smile. "He's too whipped anyway, let him enjoy."

Jesus. Chanyeol wanted out of here. It wasn't that these guys were half bad. Quite the opposite, Chanyeol found them sort of endearing with the way they passionately rehearsed their lines, danced and sang even without an instructor guiding them, on a Saturday. But taking jabs at Chanyeol and laughing at his "whipped" nature was unsettling him. He was not whipped for Baekhyun, he was just still stuck on a stupid kiss. 

Chanyeol sighed, he couldn't blame anyone. Not these guys, they were just having fun. If anyone, Chanyeol should blame Sehun. Now that guy was whipped, for Junmyeon. A little too much. If it wasn't for Sehun, Chanyeol wouldn't have been temporarily homeless and had to spend the night at Baekhyun's. 

"Stop teasing him, people. See you later," Baekhyun sang as he came back dressed in a baggy sweater and loose camo pants tucked into his boots. He tugged Chanyeol's shirt sleeve to follow him out. 

"Don't forget to bring dessert," someone shouted. 

"Bring Prince Charming as well, while you're at it!"

"Sorry about that, they tend to be a little rowdy during the weekend," Baekhyun said. 

They sat facing each other in a booth at a quaint little café/bakery just outside of their main campus. Chanyeol had never even noticed it, but Baekhyun said they have the best baked goods he ever had. 

"You don't hate sweets, do you?" Baekhyun asked, a little alarmed. 

Chanyeol looked at him like he was crazy, thinking back on how he was seconds away from sucking the taste of freaking strawberry milk from Baekhyun's tongue. Chanyeol coughed and shook his head. He was fine with sweets. Their coffee and chocolate covered donuts came soon after. Chanyeol had to admit they were good, had the potential to ruin his body and all his hard work, but he could indulge on occasion. 

"How did you find me anyway?" Baekhyun asked while licking chocolate off his fingers. 

"Joey," Chanyeol said and tried not to stare. "I was actually at your apartment, he found me and said you'd be at rehearsal. He even gave me a ride. He said hi."

"Ah, makes sense."

"How are you so close to the officer, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh he used to date my mom, didn't work out though. But I like him, we occasionally meet up because he has two dogs and I'm desperately trying to convince him to let me adopt them."

The way he said it made Chanyeol laugh. And that was surprising because Chanyeol doesn't usually feel this comfortable with people so quickly. Well, maybe it had something to do with last night's fiasco. And the kiss. Fuck.

Chanyeol wanted to ask about it, so bad. But it felt weird. And awkward. And Chanyeol wasn't sure he could ask with a straight face. It bothered him. Not in a negative way. More like, he couldn't figure it out and it was irritating. It was like not knowing what that sound was at the back of a well-produced song and obsessing over it for days and even weeks until finally it was clear. 

"What are you doing tonight?" Baekhyun asked. 

"Uh, nothing much, I guess," Chanyeol sipped his coffee. 

"How do you feel about a social gathering? Dinner will be on me."

"The party your friends were talking about?"

"It's not much of a party, really. Just some friends hanging out together."

"Well, I don't think I'd fit in, and I don't wanna be a bother among friends," Chanyeol said. 

"Well, as humble as that sounds, I insist. And you heard Jongin, they want you there. They wouldn't have asked so directly in front of you if they didn't."

Was it worth it? Should Chanyeol give up another night at his apartment to spend time with Baekhyun and his eccentric friends? 

"Wear something white," Baekhyun said. 

"Wait, I haven't decided whether I'd go."

"I've decided for you, it'll be fun. I'll pick you up at 8."

"How's your hand?" Chanyeol decided to change the topic. Maybe he can get away with the party thing later with a better excuse. 

"Hurts a little, but good otherwise. Nearly got plastered under a ladder while rehearsing, but narrowly escaped."

"Does that often happen?" Chanyeol was more alarmed than he probably should have been. 

"Nah, I just got distracted. But anyway, I gotta go make a cake. Oh hey, I should have your number."

Half an hour later, Chanyeol was shifting through his wardrobe looking for white clothes. He had none. He regretted ever agreeing to go to the party, which, by the way, he never explicitly agreed to. 

His phone buzzed with a text from "Kyoong", Baekhyun had insisted, with an impromptu photo of his doing a finger heart, that that be his nickname on Chanyeol's phone. God knows why Chanyeol agreed. 

"Be there in ten." The text read. Great. No way to back out now. 

"I kind of have an issue." Chanyeol texted back. It felt like a weak excuse to get out of going to the party, even though this was a genuine issue. 

And then Baekhyun was calling him and Chanyeol nearly dropped his phone. He finally saw the pout Baekhyun sneakily did which wasn't noticeable with the small icon. Jesus. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, sorry, started driving so I couldn't text back. Don't worry, Bluetooth, and I'm almost at your place. What's the issue?"

"I'm going to hang up and we can talk when you get here."

"Wai-" 

Chanyeol did as he said and waited until Baekhyun was knocking at his door. 

"Okay, glad that you're concerned about me dying on the road but never hang up on me, bothers the hell out of me. So, now, what's the issue?"

"I don't have anything white," Chanyeol said.

"Your roommate? Borrow something of his."

"I don't know if you met Junmyeon or not, but we're sort of not the same size."

"Well, I don't think Sehun owns anything remotely classy either."

That's when Chanyeol finally registered what Baekhyun was wearing. A high collared Victorian shirt with ruffles on the sleeves and neck, a few streaks of shimmering thread on his chest and shoulders. A corset. Loose breeches tucked into knee-high boots. All white. 

"You look beautiful," Chanyeol said before he could stop himself. 

"Why, thank you, dear sir. I spent hours trying to fit this just right. Et voila."

"You made this?"

"Tweaked. I'm no seamstress. But I can use a needle."

Right. Of course. Chanyeol should stop staring at Baekhyun's shiny cheeks that matched the color of his cotton candy pink hair. Get a grip. 

"You said classy outfit, right? I have all-black fits, recital clothes."

"Ah, that would create quite the buzz, but I like the idea. Show me," Baekhyun said. And then he neatly sat down on Chanyeol's bed and crossed his legs, waiting for Chanyeol to appear in his black attire. 

Right. Well, Chanyeol wasn't ready to strip in front of this Victorian ghost boy yet. Yet? Jesus Christ, his mind was well on its way to the gutter. 

"I'll be right back," Chanyeol took the shirt and pants from his drawers and went to the bathroom to change. 

He came back to soft music playing on his speakers. His music. 

"Sorry, I was snooping around and found your disks. You really composed these?"

"Uh, yeah, last term."

"I need to get this on my phone. Later. Well, you look pretty."

Chanyeol felt his ears go red. 

"Are you wearing contacts?"

"Yeah."

"You weren't wearing them last night, you wore your glasses. That's why I couldn't recognize you right away. Well. Mind switching now? It'll fit better."

It was ridiculous how Chanyeol just switched from contacts to glasses without protests. 

"And I love this collar," Baekhyun walked up to him and undid the first two buttons from his half-collar. "Hmm, better. You have any accessories?"

"Uh…"

"My friends are very serious about weekend parties, you'll be surprised by the amount of effort they put in. They'll appreciate it if you showed you cared too. But no pressure, I mean, don't make yourself uncomfortable or anything. You already look really good so I don't think you need to worry, plus I'm sure everyone would just appreciate you being there…"

Baekhyun was babbling and it was so adorable, Chanyeol was shamelessly just staring without being the least bit discreet about it. 

He ended up wearing the silver necklace his sister got him last year on his birthday. Half a heart, the other half was on Yuna's wrist. 

They arrived at Chen's apartment in town. It was… not what Chanyeol expected, at all. Chen, the one with the catlike smile, wore a Peter Pan outfit, all white, with white antlers on his head instead of the hat. He padded barefoot as he welcomed Baekhyun and Chanyeol inside. Some of the others were familiar faces Chanyeol had seen earlier at the auditorium. A Medusa with white dreadlocks and a white snakeskin-like dress contrasting her brilliant ebony skin. A Lucifer in a white suit and tarred feet. Two Victorian ghosts much like Baekhyun but very differently dressed. A guy dressed as honest-to-God Edgar Allan Poe with a fake moustache, looking ready to attend his own wedding in a three piece embroidered suit. The woman on his side dressed as a bride, probably the cousin. And then there was Minseok serving wine wearing a white fur coat and the crown of a king. 

Well. This was. Something. 

"I should kick you out for not wearing even a thread of white," Minseok said. "But you look good, and you're carrying the cake, so I'll overlook this time."

"Don't mind him, you look perfect," Chen laughed with genuine delight. Everyone else agreed. 

"Help me with the cake," Baekhyun gestured towards the kitchen with his head and Chanyeol followed. 

Baekhyun had made two cakes but decorating them and bringing them over would have been a disaster. So he put everything in containers, the cakes, the fondant, buttercream, chocolate and other decorations, and strapped them to the back seat of his car. This party was no joke. 

Chanyeol set down the containers on the kitchen counter, which was already full of dishes being prepared and ready to be set on the table. 

"I feel like I should have brought something," Chanyeol said to Baekhyun. 

"Well, at least you brought your wits," the tall lanky actor dressed like the ghost of Monte Christo said as he handed a glass of white wine to Chanyeol. 

"You having flashbacks of your initiation, Jongin?" Chen laughed as he stirred some kind of soup in a pot. 

"Jesus, don't remind me," Jongin shuddered and went back to sit with the others. 

Baekhyun layered and put cream on the cake. Then fondant. Then carefully crafted cream flowers, roses and white chocolate feathers. Chanyeol stood there in awe, occasionally handing over whatever Baekhyun asked for and watched the cakes turn into works of art. How? One man. How? 

One man who can sing and act and probably dance too, can bake and decorate cakes, sew and fit his own medieval style clothes, and kiss. 

This party was a bad idea. Chanyeol was glad he didn't miss it. Getting to know Baekhyun's friends and how Baekhyun acted around them was a serious thing. Chanyeol paid attention to every conversation and voiceless interaction. He really should be a bit more careful. He couldn't help looking at Baekhyun every chance he got. 

The internal conflict Chanyeol was having was driving him crazy. 

What was happening? 

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 5

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link! , Chapter 2 Link! , Chapter 3 Link! , Chapter 4 Link!

Summary: There’s nothing that brings opposing sides together like a mutual enemy, though who that enemy is...

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Author’s Note: I wanted to take a short break after THE SPECIAL to retool, replan, and rewrite some stuff in the next few chapters and make sure they would fit with what I have already posted, as well as wait for the last episode to be subbed so I could double check what I had in this chapter before posting. This fic is already canon divergent (and now a full on AU) so that helped a lot. All you need to know now is that in SFAUT another year is added in the timeline and 1 New Year has already passed. I will provide spoiler warnings for any chapter in the future since some stuff in the special will be relevant to this fic now. (There are none in this one! No Spoilers Inside!)

Chapter 5: Gladly, your journey ends here with me

“Come on, come on Jin... Ah ha!” Yin let out a triumphant yell as the two Calabashes finally connected remotely, one hidden tucked away where their now unwanted business partner hopefully couldn’t find it, and he quickly closed out and hid all the windows he could on the computers that would give away their plan. It was a long shot... but hopefully this would work. He just had to trust that his elder could handle this on his own.

----------

“You weren’t kidding when you said everything smelled dull,” Mei said with a frown. They were walking around the city looking for anything that could possibly help them get out of here. So far no luck, everything appeared to just be as normal as normal could possibly be. MK had even tried breaking something with his staff on “accident” and only got a slightly angry but forgiving shopkeeper once he paid for the broke table out of it. “Now that I’m really paying attention to it I can’t help but notice it.”

“It’s bizarre,” Red Son chimed in with a growl, true frustration having long since started to bloom in his expression. “Nothing’s happened! No one is attacking us, no one is trying to make everything perfect. It’s just... Normal!” The last word was screeched out, his hair flaming up before he took a breath and calmed back down. “I don’t think this is Jin and Yin anymore. It’s too different from what you described to us.”

Despite not wanting to, MK couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “I think you’re right... this has to be a Calabash, I’m sure of it! But unless they got really good at making more than two step plans really quickly, someone must be helping them.”

Though who that could possibly be they had no clue. As far as the three of them knew the Gold and Silver Demons weren’t really affiliated with anyone specifically. They seemed to run around doing their own thing for the most part.

“There’s got to be some kind of clue around here about how to get out, nothing technological is perfect!” Mei chimed up with a wide smile. “Who knows, maybe the solution will just hit us when we least expect i-”

“WATCH OUT!”

The trio jumped in surprise at the yell, voice familiar but sounding just off enough to startle them. They looked up as a cloud barreled down and ducked right before it flew right into an alley behind them, a series of yelps and crashes and curses being let out by whoever had hitched a ride on it.

“God bloody damn it how does he even fly this stupid thing?” They heard from inside, and they all carefully stepped into the alleyway. MK pulled out his staff, Mei her sword, and Red Son lit his hands on fire in preparation.

“UH...” MK lowered his staff just a bit when he caught sight of the figure in front of them, turned away from them and brushing dust and dirt off his clothes with his tail swiping madly at the air like he didn’t exactly know what to do with it. “M-Monkey King?”

“Monkey King” tensed, turning quickly with an uncharacteristic look of surprise and... fear? Fear on his face. “Uh... you’re sorta right, MK.”

“Ok, you are definitely not Monkey King, he NEVER calls me MK and he definitely does not have an accent like that,” MK said as he raised his staff back up with a raised brow. “And you are definitely not the fake Monkey King we just left who did call me Bud and Kid instead. Who the hell are you!?”

The new fake Monkey King raised his hands in a sign of surrender, laughing awkwardly. “Whoa, whoa! No need to attack, I’m here to help you! Surprised you don’t recognize me already, do we really sound that much alike?”

“Wait a- JIN!?” “THAT’S Jin?” “But how?” MK, Red Son, and Mei all shouted one right after the other, looking between the Jin-Turned-Monkey-King and each other.

“Change back!” MK shouted, extended his staff just enough to poke Jin in the chest. “Stop looking like that right now!”

“I can’t,” Jin sighed out, taking a step back and away from the staff jutting into his rib cage. “I mean, I can if I try for a minute, but it’s not safe! I need to be disguised and apparently using this digital form already made up with your info this is the best disguise the program decided for me.”

“AH HA I was right this is a Calabash!” MK shouted in victory before realizing this just confirmed what they had already agreed to. “Ahem... OK... why do you need to be disguised? And why did you say you were here to help us? Isn’t this one of your plans?”

Jin winced at the questions and looked away, rubbing one of his arms. It looked... bizarre and wrong to see on the Sun Wukong’s face. Sure, MK had seen the ancient being look vulnerable before but it was never anything like this. “Yin and I were... tricked into helping someone we shouldn’t have. She’s got control of everything right now, except an extra Calabash Yin has me in that I’m remotely connected to you from. I can help you get out of here if you just trust me for a bit.”

“Oh, like we’re just going to trust you like that!” Mei growled, taking a step closer. “How do we know this isn’t some kind of trick? That this isn’t part of your plan?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna admit that me and Yin aren’t really that good at plans,” Jin deadpanned with a frown. “I mean, we’re pretty smart! We made an entire virtual reality system that can hold multiple people shrunk down with magic and replicate anything from their own memories after all! But we’re not really good at more than 2 step evil plans.”

“He has a point,” Red Son interjected. “We fought them 2 months ago and even then their plan was ‘take control of the city water supply, fight Monkie Kid’. They didn’t have a plan aside from just... holding the water and hoping they’d win.”

“See, bad at plans!” Jin pipped up with a wide awkward smile, and that felt more natural if a little exaggerated to see. “But! We’re good at tech, and the problem here is tech we personally made. So I can help you!”

“Again, why though?” MK asked, lowering his staff cautiously. “Why help us? Wouldn’t whoever you’re working for getting rid of us be good for you?”

Jin frowned again, looking down at his (Sun Wukong’s) hands. “... It was my idea. A week or so ago... A woman came by asking for a job, told us to just call her Vapor, learned real quick that wasn’t her name after she dropped her disguise... We needed the extra cash to fill a tech order for another demon and it sounded easy enough. Make a Calabash convincing enough to trick the Monkie Kid’s senses so that he couldn’t get out from the inside. And it was easy, we already had everything being worked on ourselves! But then...” He scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away. “She started to want to get all three of ya. Started talking about wanting it to be ‘worse for him, more painful’. We didn’t know what she was talkin about, but we knew from context clues that whoever ‘him’ was wasn’t you.”

MK let his staff down entirely but didn’t put it away, earning odd looks from Mei and Red Son. He shook his head, gesturing to Jin and then their weapons to urge them to stand down for the moment.

“Then she started to get frustrated,” Jin continued. “She pushed us to work harder, faster, and when we tried to cut off the deal she... she pulled out this kind of smoking pipe and I don’t know what the hell she has in it but that stuff knocked us out harder than any drink ever did. When we woke up we were... stuck.”

“Stuck?” MK asked. “Wait, you work for other demons?”

“Yeah yeah, we make tech for other demons, that ain’t the point right now!” Jin cleared his throat, continuing his explanation. “She had some kind of... of sealin charm on the building. No demons gettin in, no demons gettin out. ‘cept for her, she’s got some kinda charm around her neck that lets her leave whenever she wants. We’ve been stuck in our little hidden HQ ever since and whenever we get too rowdy or annoying she just puts us to sleep again. I don’t know how much more of that we can breathe in before it starts to actually hurt us, and whatever she has planned wasn’t for you. You’re just some kinda-a pawn. To hurt someone else. That’s why I want to help you, she’s hurtin my brother and as much as we want to take you down the Gold and Silver Demons will not be used as pawns in other’s schemes.”

“So it’s a pride thing,” Red Son said as he crossed his arms. “You’re helping us because this Vapor woman hurt your pride.”

“Yeah, and what of it?” Jin crossed his arms in turn, glaring at the fire demon. “Need a better reason or do you not want my help?”

“We want your help!” MK jumped in with a sigh. “Any help, even help from pride alone, is probably needed right now.”

“Great!” Jin smiled wide again, and the quickly changing expressions he was showcasing on the Monkey King’s face were starting to give the trio tonal whiplash. “Should be simple enough, she’s out and about right now so all we gotta do is get to a little something Yin and I added in while she wasn’t looking before she gets back.” He smirked, prideful and eager to brag. “An emergency access hub. Didn’t have time to program it to pop up on command, but once we get to our hidden HQ we can access it and force this Calabash to just spit us out! You probably could have found it yourselves... eventually...”

“That’s... surprisingly easy and simple,” Mei said, but smiled after a moment. “But worth a shot I guess. If you’re lying we can just kick your butt and get out of here the old fashioned way!”

This caused Jin to laugh nervously again, raising his hands up. “No lying, promise! Just follow me-EAGH!” When he took a step he stumbled, righting himself as he flailed his arms and sighed. “Stupid tail, how do you balance with this thing?” He took another careful step, then another, and after a moment he just grabbed his tail and yelped at the sensation and wrapped it around his wrist before walking normally. “This is bloody weird.”

“I’ll say...” MK muttered as he watched Jin step out of the alley and wave his free hand, the air in front of him glitching in a familiar way before a digital floating map rested before him. “... ok, that’s kinda cool.”

Jin paused, looking back at them with a bit of a flushed tint on Monkey King’s ears. “Uh... thanks? Just follow me, this will tell us if anything pings the system to alert it that I’m here or she comes back.”

They followed Jin for a moment, fake people staring at the full form of Sun Wukong in awe. The same way MK and the others would have expected them to in real life.

“Wait, hold on!” Mei piped up after a moment. “You said you found out Vapor wasn’t this mystery woman’s name, but you never told us who she was! What’s her real name, maybe we already know who she is!”

“Yeah, if we know who she is we can plan on how to kick her ass!” MK agreed.

Jin shook his head. “I don’t know if even you three can fight her at this point, she’s strong. Way stronger than I already knew she could have gotten over the years. You’re gonna need more than a little help to take her down.” He turned to Red Son.

“What?” Red Son questioned, tips of his hair sparking as he tensed in confusion and worry. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because Vapor was-AAAAAHHHHH!”

And Jin fell to the ground screaming.

----------

“And to what do we owe the.... honor of your visit,” The Demon Bull King growled lowly, arms raised slightly at his sides as Princess Iron Fan stood on his shoulder. Her own glare was even more formidable than her husband’s.

“Brother Ox,” Sun Wukong greeted as he bowed in respect. “I-”

“We stopped being brothers in name long ago, Sun Wukong,” DBK growled low again. “Now state your business here before I lose my patience and we continue our last fight.”

“I’m surprised we aren’t already fighting...” Pigsy whispered to Tang. “This is weird...”

And Pigsy was right, the situation was weird. They had snuck in, Wukong ready to fight and get them out of there if things had gotten out of hand. Instead, they were greeted with a very annoyed but subdued Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan who looked ready and willing to murder all of them if given half an excuse... but for some reason were holding themselves back.

“Demon Bull King,” Wukong corrected himself with a small frown, holding his bow for an extra moment before straightening himself. “I have come to ask for a temporary truce... and your help.”

DBK grit his teeth, leaning down until he was nearly nose to nose with the Monkey King, PIF holding onto his horn on her side to remain stable. “And what makes you think I would ever agree to that?”

“The reason I am asking for it,” Wukong continued, not even reacting to the snorted breath in his face. “MK, Mei, and your son were supposed to join me on Flower Fruit Mountain this morning. We... have not been able to find them.”

This immediately got both parents attention, DBK narrowing his gaze dangerously as he stood up straight so fast PIF had to hold on tighter to not fall off. “What are you implying?”

“MK, Mei, and Red Son are missing. We want your help to find them.”

[reyescarlos]

from the bottom i come running

co-written with @bilbobagglns in celebration of @starlightbuck‘s birthday. we love you so much, nicole! so much so that we dared to try our hand at writing a soccer fic just for you! happy birthday, lovebug!! 💕💜

read on ao3

It’s not that Eddie doesn’t like soccer, but he doesn’t really care for it.

So when he is asked if he wants to try out for a charity team of first responders, he declines with a smile. He is busy as it is without needing to add training on top of all his responsibilities. Also, truth be told, soccer rules don’t make much sense to him.

Baseball now! That’s his sport and he could rattle about it for hours, enough to put Mr. Trivia himself to shame. Speaking of which, of course Evan Buckley tried for the team and, of course, he made the cut.

That’s how Eddie finds himself in Oregon ready to cheer his friend on.

“Do you think Buck is going to like my sign?”

Christopher has worked hard on it – it’s painted in every color he had and he even insisted on glitter.

“It’s to cheer him on, Dad. It has to be colorful!”

“I know he’s gonna love it, bud.”

It’s the truth. Anything that Christopher will do, Buck will love. It’s as simple as that and this does nothing to Eddie’s heart, no. It’s not like Buck’s love for his kid, true and pure and unconditional, makes Eddie long for a life together with the three of them as a family.

(Well it does, but he will keep denying it.)

“Hi, is this seat taken?”

A man with kind eyes and a bright smile is pointing at the seat right next to Eddie.

“No, you can take it, no problem.”

“Thanks,” the stranger replies and extends his hand after sitting down. “I’m TK.”

“Eddie,” he replies, shaking his hand.

“Hi, I’m Christopher,” his son says and Eddie is bursting with pride and amusement as he reaches to take TK’s hand as well.

“Pleased to meet you, Christopher,” TK says easily. “That’s a beautiful sign you got there.”

Chris beams at the praise, his cheeks turning red but he holds TK’s gaze anyway.

“It’s for Buck,” he tells him like it explains everything, and to him, it does.

“He’s on the Purple Team,” Eddie reveals. “We’re all here to cheer on him.”

“And see him make a fool of himself hopefully.”

At the comment, Chris whirls to give Chim quite the impressive stare and in that moment he looks so much like his mother than it makes Eddie breath catch in his throat.

“He’s going to win,” Christopher announces, sure of himself like he would be of the sun rising in the morning. “Just you wait.”

“Don’t worry, Chris,” Hen intervenes with a gentle smile. “He’s just teasing.”

Seeming to accept the explanation, Chris gives Chim another warning look before turning back to the field, waiting for the players to come out and start the game.

“So your Buck,” TK says, “he’s on the Purple Team? So’s my boyfriend. His name is Carlos.”

“Oh, he’s a firefighter too?”

But TK shakes his head, “I am, he’s a cop.”

“That’s great. We’re all firefighters here, Buck too.”

“We’re not all firefighters here,” Athena cuts in.

Eddie laughs, “Yes, sorry. Athena here is a police officer.”

They talk about their stations, crazy calls they have encountered and TK fits in seamlessly with the big rowdy group that has become Eddie’s family of choice. They learn TK has come by himself to root for his boyfriend and that they both of them live in Texas, which in turn makes Eddie talk about El Paso and his time there.

Should they ever find themselves in Los Angeles, invitations have already been offered to TK, and by extension Carlos though they have yet to meet him, but if he proves to be as delightful as TK, there should be no reason not to enjoy his company as well.

“You’ll have to explain the rules to me,” TK fake whispers with good humor. “I only know they’re kicking after a ball and it’s supposed to get in the goal over there. That’s it.”

“Oh, I don’t really understand soccer. I’m only here for Buck.”

TK laughs freely at Eddie’s comment and then adds, tongue in cheek, “Well, aren’t we a pair? Two soccer novices cheering their boyfriends on?”

Behind them, Chim bursts out laughing and Hen almost chokes on her drink with her lour snickering. Meanwhile Eddie – Eddie is just frozen.

“I don’t,” he splutters at last and it takes him several tries to get a proper sentence out. “Buck and I aren’t dating.”

Frowning in confusion, TK glances at Eddie, then Chris who is still holding tight onto his Go Buck! sign, and Buck himself before settling his gaze on Eddie again.

“Oh,” is all he says, sounding like he is biting his tongue not to say more.

“They’re still in denial, don’t worry about it,” Chim intervenes and Eddie does not have to turn around to know that he is wearing a very satisfied smirk. “You get used to the pining.”

“No one is pining,” Eddie lies, quite well if he’d say so himself.

He knows very well that one person is in fact himself and it is not Buck, no matter how hard he wishes his feelings were returned.

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy,” Hen says, “and then one day you’ll finally get your head out of you as – butt and pull us all out of our misery.”

She catches herself before she swears but it doesn’t escape May who hides her laughing behind her hand. Hen winks at her before laughing too. Nia, in her mother’s arms, joins in the laughter just for the love of it.

“Come on,” Athena chimes in, trying to look stern but Eddie knows her well enough to see she is amused as the rest of the team. “Leave the poor man alone.”

TK’s eyes alight with restrained laughter when Eddie turns back to him, offering him a contrite smile.

Before anyone can embarrass him any further, the two soccer teams enter the field and the crowd screams out in excitement – Christopher being the loudest of them all.

Buck waves at them, a huge smile on his lips, his eyes alight even with the distance. Eddie’s heart soars with love.

The match starts and Eddie can only cheer with the rest of the crowd.

~*~*~

TK breathes in the fresh air, hoping that it’ll be enough to flush out the nervousness he feels in the pit of his stomach. Soccer may not be his area of expertise but each time he comes to watch Carlos out on the field for a match, he feels invested. A part of him is out there on the green. Even from such a great distance he can tell Carlos is having fun with this. He’s in his element, his strong legs all but making him a blur as he races down the field toward the goal post. It’s a marvel, truly, to watch Carlos in complete control of himself and the ball. For the life of him TK can’t understand how any of the players manage to do this with such ease. But there’s something just so special about Carlos in particular— though, TK realizes, that may just be his bias talking.

Though this game is hardly the World Cup, TK can’t help but to feel the pressure build within him, his knuckle turning white from how tightly he’s gripping the sign in his hand. It’s not nearly as colorful as Chris’ beside him but TK couldn’t resist getting into the spirit, donning a purple hoodie as well. He wishes Michelle or his father could be here now but TK has enough energy for everyone back home and then some.

“That’s Carlos,” he points out to Eddie and Chris.

TK eyes his boyfriend in his shorts, feeling his cheeks flush for a moment. He’s glad for the crisp autumn air to disguise it.

“Hey, he’s with Buck! Maybe they’re friends already,” Chris notes as the two guys exchange a quick low five after Buck makes an impressive block.

“That’d be awesome.”

TK grows quiet then, the players really pick up with intensity out on the pitch. He may be surrounded by people in the stands but his attention rests solely on the field before him, his eyes tracking Carlos’ every move.

Despite Carlos’ best efforts to get TK to understand the nuances of the game, TK’s knowledge is still rudimentary at best but it’s enough for him to know that his boyfriend is doing amazingly well out there. Carlos and Buck work seamlessly off each other as if they’re tuned into the same frequency.

TK breaks his attention away to smile over at Chris and Eddie, the two just as absorbed in the match as he’s been this whole time.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” he muses aloud.

“It’s like they’re flying,” Chris replies, eyes bright behind his glasses. TK can’t help but to agree as Buck and Carlos go thundering up the field.

Even though Buck’s maneuver is thwarted by the other team’s player, there’s no question that the man is extremely skilled as well.

TK’s eyes move over to Eddie who doesn’t seem to have heard any of the exchange TK has just had with his son. Eddie’s eyes are unmoving from the field and it’s obvious there’s only one person he’s truly paying attention to out there.

Despite what the man may have been willing to admit aloud or even to himself, TK can see Eddie’s affection for Buck clear as day on his face. Granted, he’s just a stranger but even from their brief conversation on the matter, he could discern a lot. As far as he could tell, Eddie didn’t have to worry. Chris was clearly a huge supporter of Buck, perhaps in more ways than one and Eddie’s crew seemed to be more than on board with the idea of them. All Eddie would have to do was be brave enough to say something but TK knew just how hard that could be.

Getting together with Carlos and letting go of his own fears was easier said than done but it landed him in the best, most meaningful relationship of his life. Now isn’t the time to have such a heart to heart and TK wonders if the man would even want to hear what he has to say on the matter. He’s an outsider but TK feels a kinship to him all the same. All he can do is hope that Eddie and Buck find their way to each other. If everyone can find the kind of happiness he’s found with Carlos, TK figures the world would be a better place.

TK feels his phone buzz inside his hoodie’s pocket. He sets his sign down and retrieves it, smiling at the screen when he sees an incoming FaceTime call from his father. He answers, his screen filling up with his dad’s face as he connects to his earbuds. He can see that he’s inside his office back at the 126, undoubtedly sitting before a mountain of paperwork.

“Hey, kid. How’s the match going?” Owen asks, not wasting any time in trying to see how Carlos is doing so far.

“Neither team has scored yet but Carlos is killing it out there, of course.”

TK flips the camera on his phone so his father can watch a bit of the match as well. The timing is perfect as Carlos is now in possession of the ball, doing some complicated footwork to maintain control that would have had TK tripping over his own feet if he were to even dare trying a move like that. TK can’t help but to beam with pride.

TK holds his breath as Carlos sidesteps a player on the orange team that’s barreling towards him. He rises to his feet, his heart in his throat as Carlos is able to keep control of the ball and sends it flying into the goal.

“Go, Carlos!” Chris shouts.

TK lets out a triumphant roar of his own, his father whooping as well. TK looks to Chris and gives the young boy a high five, beaming back at him.

“Oh man, I wish I could stay on and watch the rest of the game but duty calls. I’m sure Carlos and his team will keep the momentum going,” Owen says. “Enjoy the match and keep me posted.”

“Will do,” TK responds, quickly ending the call. He can feel his whole body buzzing with excitement for Carlos who finds him in the crowd and gives him a wink.

TK mirrors the move as he claps and sits back down again. He’s practically bouncing in his seat as the game continues.

The purple team continues to do well though no more points are scored as the second quarter begins but Buck and Carlos are on fire during this next leg of the match, their skills clearly a cut above the others. Buck manages another goal with an assist from TK, the two exchanging another low high five. The orange team tries to rally after Buck’s goal, desperate to at least score one point now that they’re down two nothing. The tactics become a bit more intense with players from the orange team clearly marking Buck and Carlos as the main ones to focus on. Carlos is being guarded heavily by one man on the orange team when he’s in possession. TK feels anxious watching Carlos try to break away but the man is like a shadow. As Carlos darts to the right, he’s felled by the other player who very deliberately tripped Carlos.

TK shoots up from his seat, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach just as Carlos’ body drops to the ground, clutching at his leg. The crowd sucks in a collective breath but TK can only really register the sight of his boyfriend’s face contorting in pain. Buck crouches down beside him, speaking to him hurriedly.

“Dad, is Carlos going to be okay?” Christopher asks, his voice a quiet whisper as if not to spook TK. It’s touching that this kid he’s only just met is so considerate.

“I...I’m sure he’s alright,” Eddie says. He doesn’t sound entirely convincing but it hardly matters. The man’s words are like static in TK’s ears as he fights the urge to go racing out onto the pitch to check on Carlos himself and also give the other player a piece of his mind.

His body moves inches forward on its own accord as the rest of Carlos’ team crowds around him along with a medic from the sidelines and the referee heads who holds up a yellow card to the player responsible for bowling Carlos over and TK shouts his frustration.

“That’s it?” Certainly a red card and dismissal from the match would be the best course of action.

TK can see Buck getting upset at the call as well, the man drawing nearer to the referee to make the case. TK could just hug him for that, for stepping up and defending Carlos right then and there when he’s unable to do just that on his own.

It’s obvious Buck isn’t having much luck, his expression growing grimmer as the medic tends to Carlos. It’s torture watching his boyfriend in pain and TK can feel his eyes stinging as he struggles to keep himself in together as Carlos is helped off the field.

“I can’t just stand here,” he says to no one in particular.

TK leaves the stands, racing down the steps and hurrying along to where the purple team is congregated on the benches. He isn’t even sure he’s allowed down here but he doesn’t spare a thought to it as he pushes his way to Carlos’ side.

“TK? What are—,” Carlos starts but TK silences him with a hug.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s my ankle. I think I twisted it.”

TK shoots a glare over at the orange team, searching for the guy responsible for this.

“Babe, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You’re the one with the busted ankle. I should be comforting you right now, not the other way around, Los.”

Carlos laughs and nods as the medic wraps his ankle and ices it. She confirms Carlos’ suspicion about the severity of his injury.

“True but I’d also like to make sure we keep the peace. This is a charity event after all and I’d hate to have to see my boyfriend arrested. Don’t forget, we’re surrounded by cops; you’re severely outnumbered,” he teases.

TK’s lips twitch with a smile, his disdain towards the other player fading away as he gives Carlos a quick kiss, cupping his cheek and brushing his thumb along Carlos’ cheekbone.

“I take it this is TK,” a voice says. TK turns and sees Buck holding out his hand. “I’m—”

“Buck. It’s nice to meet you.”

Buck’s brows furrow in confusion, no doubt wondering how it is that TK knows his name already. TK points over to where he had been seated in the stands, Christopher holding up his sign above his now that they’re all looking his way.

“I got the chance to meet your crew and two very special parts of it. Chris is the coolest kid ever and his dad is just as incredible.”

TK doesn’t miss the soft expression in Buck’s eyes as he looks over at the father and son duo. TK and Carlos exchange a glance before Buck turns his attention back on them again.

“They’re family,” Buck says simply with a warm smile. “How are you feeling, Carlos? What’d the medic say?”

“Twisted not sprained so that’s a relief. It’s low grade so I won’t be out of commission for too long.”

“The second the match is over I’m taking you right back to the hotel, alright? I know you’ll be fine but I’ll feel a hell of a lot better when you’re in bed getting rest.”

“Yes, Dr. Strand,” Carlos muses. “Report back to the stands. We all need to see Buck continue to kick some butt out there.”

TK gives him one last kiss. “To help with the pain and suffering,” he quips before hurrying back to rejoin Eddie and Chris.

~*~*~

Purple team wins.

Even as he cheers, Eddie spares a glance at his new friend and is relieved to find he has already rushed to his boyfriend's side and both TK and Carlos are smiling widely and clapping on the bench.

The crowd rushes on the field to congratulate the winners as loud as they can.

Both Eddie and Christopher are somehow the first to reach Buck despite the rest of their family getting a headstart on them while Chris got his crutches. Something tells him that they have let them, though he couldn’t say why.

(That’s a lie. He knows why.)

(Damn meddlers)

(That is also a lie. He loves them all dearly.)

Buck has sweated through his shirt, his normally well-coiffed hair is a mess of curls and unruly strands. Eddie has no rights to find him as beautiful as he does but he can’t help it.

Buck is magnificent. The sun itself must be envious of how bright he shines.

The energy is high and everyone is speaking excitedly about the game, Carlos’ injury and the insane rules of soccer.

Chim slaps Buck on his shoulder with a, “Good job, Buckaroo,” which earns him a satisfied look from Christopher, ever defendant of his Buck.

“Did you like my sign, Buck?” he asks, pointing to it now in Eddie’s hands.

“I loved it, buddy. Thank you so much, it’s the best sign anyone has ever made in the history of signs.”

From anyone else, it would have been an exaggeration to please a kid. From Buck, it’s nothing but the truth.

They stay a while there, chatting and laughing, and then the players go to change and finally, it’s time to leave. The kids are tiring and so are the adults if Eddie is being honest. The Oregon fall air keeps chilling and they are all angsty to get back inside where it’s warm.

“Eddie, wait.”

It’s TK running up to him, his phone in his hand which he gives to Eddie. Carlos waves at him from the car.

“Give me your number,” TK says. “I’ll hold you to your and your friends’ words when Carlos and I are in LA. I’m gonna have to see for myself how great your station is.”

“Of course,” Eddie replies with a laugh. “But be ready to be impressed.”

He gives TK his phone back.

“Reach out to if you ever find yourself in Austin, you and anyone else you’d wanna bring with.”

There’s something else there in between the words but TK is already saying goodbye, probably in a hurry to bring Carlos back to their hotel room so he can shower and rest his poor ankle.

Yet, half-turned, TK stills.

His gaze finds Eddie and, gently, only for his ears, he says something that has Eddie’s foundations shake.

“You know, if everyone sees it, it may be because it’s actually there.”

He glances behind Eddie before wiking at him and then he’s gone.

“They make a great couple,” Buck says when he comes up to him, seconds later.

Eddie can only hum in return, his thoughts are miles away.

“You’re okay?”

Buck is frowning in concern. His cheeks are still warm from the effort of the game but his breathing is even as his eyes wrack over Eddie’s face.

Buck is always so concerned about Eddie and Christopher too. He would gladly give up any plans he had if the Diaz boys only asked for anything at all.

Maybe it is there.

“TK thought we were dating,” he admits, voice low.

“Oh.” Silence. “Carlos thought so too.”

Eddie searches in his best friend’s eyes an answer to a question he can’t bring himself to ask just yet. What he finds gives him hope, and courage as well.

“Weird huh,” Buck says and he licks his lips in what Eddie recognizes to be nervousness.

He smiles, relieved beyond words. “No, not so weird.”

“No?

Buck is carefully hopeful, as if his heart beats too loud in his chest and he is afraid the whole world might hear it but unable to calm it all the same.

Serene like he has not been in so long a time, Eddie reaches for Buck’s hand and squeezes it.

“No,” he repeats. “It’s not weird at all.”

And though they don’t say it, they both know.

It is there and it is forever.

[coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe]

No Matter What or A Deadly Combination

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst @stupidbluegirl

This Passage contains potentially: swearing, violence, blood, whump, fluff and smutty content.

Summary: Kirby and Roddy spend a while together, even planning to fly back to Cardiff together and meeting Kirby's parents while Rod poses as just a 'close friend'.

Kirby's POV:

"Well, unless it doesn't work out that way, yeah, I'd love you until the end of time. I'd die for you, hell, I might even kill for you."

"Roddy, I fly back to Cardiff in a week, I can't deal with all this change at once, it's overloading."

Roddy instantly sat up on my lap, like an excited puppy, "I'll fly there with ya, just as friends. I've never been to Cardiff."

"Rod, if you come with me, there will be questions."

"Like what?"

"Like why I suddenly gained a male friend after talking to my mam about previous men in my life and 'that feeling when you find the one'."

"Oh, so your parents might think that I'm there for, other, reasons."

"Yeah, and my uncles live near my parents, so if you start shit, the whole of my dad's side of the family might not take too kindly to you."

"Why would I start shit with your dad?" he questioned before leaning in to kiss my neck.

"Because you started shit with Damien, and- ." I stopped all of a sudden feeling Roddy's teeth against my neck.

"Family's off limits. Damien's not your real dad." He stated flatly, switching to kissing the opposite side of my neck.

"How come you hate him so much though?"

"Because he's such a dick to other guys, he yelled at me down the phone to 'get the fuck out of' your room before he 'finds a way to end my career'."

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Roddy, I'm so sorry," I whispered to him, trying to be as comforting as possible.

"ROD!" I yelped, clawing my nails sideways down his bare back as he bit against the flesh covering my collarbone, hearing him groan against my skin.

He let out another deep, guttural growl before getting off of me, "I uh, I needed that … and now I need to change my kilt, and wash it, and myself."

"There is a shower in the bathroom, and now, potentially cold coffee on top of the mini fridge and ice cream in the mini fridge." I said, getting up and looking down at the Rowdy Scot.

"How much ice cream?" He cocked an eyebrow before whipping off his kilt, and like a 'true' Scotsman, he had nothing on beneath it.

"You don't need to know and could you, at least, get in the bathroom before you show me your 'Loch Ness Monster'?" I asked, shielding my eyes.

He let out a gentle chuckle, before kissing me on the cheek, "could ya get me some other clothes? my stuff's in the duffel bag in the back of the Paul's car in the parking lot."

"Sure," I tried to sound as sarcastic as possible, "Would you like me to get you a box of condoms while I'm at it?"

He winked at me, "Only if ya want to ride the Hot Rod, baby." He gestured to his groin.

I jokingly fake heaved before leaving to get Roddy some trousers, and hopefully a pair of boxer shorts or briefs, while I'm out there.

I saw Orndorff while I was out and told him about Piper's plans to ride with me, he let me move Rod's duffel bag into the back of my D200.

Coming back to the room, I was shocked to see Roddy, fully naked with a towel underneath him on the bed, looking through my sketchbook and stuffing his face with ice cream. I practically slammed the door behind me, making Roddy jump and look over at me.

"You alright, beautiful?" He was caring, cautious even.

The blush on my cheeks was full on scarlet by this point, I'm certain. I gulped down a mouthful of air and saliva before approaching the bed and to give Roddy a pair of his jeans and black boxer briefs.

"What's wrong, Kirby?" he put everything down and stood up next to me, taking the clothing from my hands before leaning up to kiss me.

"Roddy, why are you so intent on snooping through my stuff?"

"I only look through your sketches, nothing else. I can't believe that you don't seem to show anyone else your drawings?"

"Because most of them are personal."

"Oh, like the ones at the back?"

I stared at him for a moment, "You looked at those."

"Yeah, why? was I not supposed to?"

I slowly shook my head 'no'.

He put his boxer briefs on and then the jeans before once again leaning up to kiss me, I leaned down into the kiss and put my right hand on his chest, feeling his chest rise and fall as he breathed, feeling his heartbeat before moving my hand down to his left hip, and lifting his leg up, supporting his weight with my left arm, I felt down to where the cut had been and where a long thin scar was forming, feeling Roddy's left hand squarely on my ass and his right hand travelling up my shirt to where my bra clasp was, before hearing a small 'thump' as the two sides of the bra separated themselves and hit my back. I let his leg down and pulled away, swiftly removing my shirt and bra and searching for a new, clean bra in my suitcase, before hearing Roddy's voice.

"Holy Mary mother of God, you're stunning." He reached out to touch me and I swatted his arm away, not wanting to end up in bed with him without knowing how deep his commitment truly was and definitely not wanting to become anybody's one night (or day) fling.

"Sweetheart." He cooed, suavely.

"Nuh-uh, hell no." I flatly stated.

"Fine, fine, you get dressed, we got a long week ahead of us."

"You have a long week ahead of you, since when did this become an 'us' thing?"

"Since I said it was, you are my lady, aren't ya?"

I blushed, hurriedly putting on a peach toned bra and a black tank top, "You, you really want me to, but you, and I, but we, we uhm, we wouldn't work."

Rod pulled me closer, kissing me roughly and biting my lower lip, "Really," His voice rough with a mix of anger and passion, "We wouldn't work." He pulled me down into another rough kiss and slipping his tongue into my mouth for a moment before pulling away.

"Rod I can't just jump into a relationship."

"I understand, but you can spend at least a week with me, and that trip to your parents and then decide if you want to be with me."

"True and if you don't like my family, don't start shit, agreed."

I held out my hand for a handshake agreement and he took it.

"Agreed. which car are we taking?"

"Mine, because I won't fit in your small-ass rental." I stated, packing my stuff into my bags and lifting both the duffel bag and the suitcase.

"How did you know it was a rental?" Rod questioned, attempting to take the suitcase.

"Paul told me, oh, thank you Rod," I handed him the suitcase, "I've already put your stuff in the trunk of my car."

"Kirby?"

"Yes, Roddy?"

"Ya ever had sex?"

I blushed again, "No, Roddy."

"Ya ever masturbated?"

"Yes, Roddy."

"So, is that what you meant earlier, y'know about 'needing that release'?"

"Yes, Roddy."

We reached my D200 and Rod helped me place my stuff in the boot before he jumped into my passenger seat.

"Where we headed to, Rod?"

"New York, New York."

"Ya mean, The Garden?"

"Yeah."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Madison Square Garden, gotta be there for the twenty-third."

"Rod, that's two days away."

"I know, honey, I know." He sounded cocky.

"So, what's the plan between now and then?"

"Get a hotel room, a good hotel room, with two beds, see if you have any matches on the same card and go from there."

"Seems, simple."

"Exactly, that's why it works so well."

"Six and a half to seven hours of us being stuck in my car to go Roddy." I mumbled, just loud enough to hear as we got stuck in our first traffic jam, and just as rain clouds started to roll in.

"Wow, you are just a ray of sunshine today."

"I'm like this all the time, babe." I joked, winking at him.

"Don't make me kiss you." He jokingly warned.

"It would pass the time." I responded, matching his tone.

"C'mere ya dafty."

Rod reached over, gently kissing my cheek and placing his hand on my thigh, squeezing slightly.

"Don't, Roddy."

He removed his hand and the traffic started moving again just before the rain started.

"Oh great. Rain."

"I think rain's nice, it's calming. Y'know I used to fall asleep to the sound of rain as a kid."

"Do you want me to drive?" He offered, cocking an eyebrow.

"No," I yawned, "I'm fine."

Roddy glared at me, as if to wordlessly say, 'Are you serious?'

I pulled over and switched seats with him, quickly passing out despite the easily angered style of Roddy's driving. Rod shook me awake and I could smell the coffee in the car.

"Kirby, Kirbs, sweetheart?"

"Hmm, Roddy, where are we?"

"Uh, a service station. Off I-ninety-five. I got you coffee, a Hazelnut Cappuccino. You're favourite, right?"

"You remembered?"

"It is your favourite?"

"Yeah. Hazelnut Cappuccinos and Blueberry Waffles, best morning pick-me-up." I said, sleep still heavy in my voice.

Rod giggled slightly, quickly stifling his laughter, "Ya slept for like four hours, ya know."

"Really?" I looked over at Roddy, taking the coffee cup from his hand.

"Yeah, Kirby, about earlier … do ya want to be my lass?"

"Of course Roddy, I never wanted you to take my words as me not wanting to be with you."

"So, what did you want? What did ya feel?" He gazed into my eyes, his blue-hazel eyes meeting the gaze of my ocean blue ones.

"I was afraid, I wanted to be sure you were right for me, I pushed you away so I could be sure that I wasn't going crazy, and I-"

Roddy interrupted me by locking his lips with mine, his hand against my cheek and his body relaxed, fully letting his guard down for what seemed like the first time for him in a long time.

I closed my eyes, placing the coffee cup between my legs for a moment so I could hold Roddy's body close to mine. He slowly moved back, pulling away from the kiss. I let go of him and breathed out a heavy sigh.

"I, I needed to know that. I'm serious, Kirby, I adore ya, I've adored ya since the moment I saw your face without the mask. You're such a beautiful woman, yet you hide that beauty."

"Roddy, the universe can be ugly at times."

"I know that, I know that a little too well. God, I turn thirty in April."

"I turned twenty nine on the thirteenth."

Rod looked me up and down, taking a swig of his own coffee before saying anything else, "Ya look younger."

"Shut up, Casanova." I joked, taking a swig of my coffee

"I mean it, ya look at the most twenty-three."

"Ya kidding, really, I, look twenty-three?"

"Take it from a U.S champ."

"I've seen photos of that belt, how did you avoid stabbing yourself with it?"

"Simple," He said in-between swigs of coffee, "never bend over."

I let out a small laugh, trying quickly to silence myself.

"Ya adorable." He swooned, gazing at me.

I studied his looks once more, taking in every little detail from his hair down to his chest, stopping to look away and out of the window for a moment upon seeing a bulge form in the crotch of his jeans, hitting him in the arm and pointing it out.

"I don't control that, Lass." He laughed, grabbing my hand and interlacing his fingers with mine, kissing the back of my hand.

"Well, do somethin' about it." I whined.

"I'll do something about it alright."

"Without just putting your hand down your pants, Roddy."

"Oh c'mon." He whined

"Piper." I said, sternly.

"Trevor." He said, copying my stern tone.

"Fine," I threw my right hand up whilst holding the coffee cup in my left, "But if you're gonna do that, let me drive."

Roddy and I got out of the D200 in unison and passed each other to switch seats, with Rod tossing his empty coffee cup in a bin and climbing back into the passenger seat.

"Roddy," I started, climbing into the driver seat, "You need that release a lot, don't ya."

"I know, I'm sorry." He looked dejected, perhaps even ashamed of his bodily functions.

"Roddy, I don't mean anything bad by that," I paused for a second, adjusting the driver's seat to my proportions and starting the car, "I just, I've never known what that feels like, to need someone else's body against my own, y'know."

"So, ya never had the urge as a teen, to, y'know, 'get with' somebody?" He quizzes, looking me up and down.

"No, I would just deal with myself when I felt like I needed to." I admitted, feeling comfortable admitting this to him, not so reserved as I was when I first met him.

"Would you like to, y'know, uh, feel what it's like to be with somebody." He was obviously implicating himself.

"Are you trying to suggest something, Rod?"

"Valentine's night, me and you, we'll only go as far as your comfortable with, deal?"

"Deal. With protection."

"With protection." He nodded in agreement

The rest of the three hour drive was quite quiet, Roddy occasionally humming out tunes I remember Erik playing on the bagpipes.

Upon reaching a hotel, one that Roddy had pointed out, we got checked in and Roddy made a couple calls, and before long it was nearly midnight and Roddy had passed out, or so I thought, I took a minute to shower and dry myself off before pulling out my mask, I hadn't been wearing it for a while and I wanted to see what it felt like, putting it into it's place and hearing a faint 'I adore ya' from the sleeping Scotsman, closing my eyes for about a minute, allowing myself to let out a couple of silent tears, abruptly feeling Rod's arms around my waist and his lips on the back of my neck, whispering sweet nothings to soothe me.

END OF NO MATTER WHAT or A DEADLY COMBINATION.