#however my friends response to this was ‘that sounds like something someone who can’t swim would say’

[thefactsofthematter]

rb for sample size reasons

[olympians367]

How can one minor change affect the future?

One morning, Severus Snape wakes up to find an infant on his doorstep with only a note to explain its appearance. A friend of his - one that had gone missing after Hogwarts and presumed dead - was begging him to care for her daughter, a girl who had caught the attention of the Dark Lord.

Unbeknownst to him, he has just been entrusted with the responsibility of raising the daughter of Poseidon, a child whose powers transcends that of Heracles; a child who has been fated to either save Olympus . . . or destroy it. A child like this being raised and taught by a cold and emotionally reserved man, who knows the Dark Arts and potion-making like the back of his hand, could have a less than favorable outcome.

After eleven years of being isolated from the wizarding world, Evangeline is starting her first day at Hogwarts, and is about to make a shocking discovery.

[Chapters are between two to five thousand words long.]

Chapter Four - Flying Lesson Disaster

“I hear you’ll be having flying lessons tomorrow,” Snape said, taking a sip of his tea. 

Evangeline was in her father’s office, serving her “detention”. Her punishments consisted of sitting in his office and sharing a cup of tea with him, while having a conversation on several topics. Now, Snape could just send his daughter invites to come see him, but he wants to avoid the scenario of someone questioning why she was always coming to his office and him explaining why, seeing as everyone believes him to be a cynical loner. 

“Yeah, with the Slytherins,” Evangeline replied, rolling her eyes as she took a bite from her blue chocolate chip cookie. 

“Do I sense some irritation in your tone, young lady?” Snape gives his daughter a disapproving stare, visibly telling her to watch what she says next. 

Over Evangeline’s childhood, she quickly learned when she should push her father’s buttons, which was why she didn’t watch what she said next. “Yes, you do sense some irritation because I am irritated. No offense, father, but your House is filled with snobby, racist, and entitled kids - no wonder the Sorting Hat didn’t place me there! I’m now glad it didn’t.”

Snape wanted to argue, but had no leg to stand on. Most of Slytherin’s reputation was well-deserved, and with their parents affiliation with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and his own experiences with them, they’re not the right influence for his daughter. A part of him was also glad the Sorting Hat hadn’t placed her into Slytherin. Snape had promised her mother to keep her safe from the Dark Lord’s clutches, and he can’t easily do that if Evangeline is constantly surrounded by people who would try to convince her to join the Dark Lord. 

“I’m aware you’ve had experience flying a broom, but are you excited to learn how to fly?” 

Evangeline’s lips curled into a joyful grin as she nodded. “Very.”

A rare smile graced Snape’s lips, one that he only showed to his family. His daughter was always an adventurous, free-spirited girl, and frankly, was unlike any witch he’s ever seen or heard of. As a child, if something sounded interesting to her, she’d try it. Evangeline has done soccer, swimming, baseball, jiu jitsu, taekwondo, boxing, gymnastics, skateboarding, surfing, baking, violin, piano, horse-riding – she was a very active child. Snape has asked why she never tried wizard sports, and her answers ranged from “They’re not my thing” to “You won’t let me” to “When you wizards stop relying on a small ball to end Quidditch and acting like a bunch of babies, then I’ll play your sports” depending on her mood. Allowing her to do these things stopped her from running around the house like a cat at 3AM. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask, Evangeline, but why didn’t you sing during the school song? Frankly, I was disappointed when I didn’t hear you - it would’ve started off my year just right.”

“I did sing,” Evangeline’s voice became quiet and slightly high-pitched, and she did her best to hide it by sipping her tea. However, her father was no fool. 

“I know what my daughter sounds like, and mouthing does not count as singing.”

“You know I don’t like singing in front of people.”

Snape furrows his brows in confusion. “Why? You have a lovely singing voice, my dear. You never had much trouble singing in front of your mother, Theodore, and me.”

“You have a nice smile,” Evangeline retorted. “Why don’t you smile for people other than mom, Theodore, and me?”

Snape and Evangeline stared at each other, her defiant eyes standing their ground against his strict ones. Despite wanting to scold her for her backtalk, Snape decided against it as she had a point. “Touché.” 

The two talked a bit more, changing the subject to the art they had been sent by Theodore, who spent every minute of every day sketching, drawing, painting, and sculpting, if he felt like it. This led to the eight-year-old boy to become a prodigy, and Theodore had said multiple times that he planned on creating his own graphic novel with a set of interesting characters. Snape always wanted to tell his son that his stories might not be accepted in the wizarding world, but he never could go through with it. 

As dinner neared, the two began cleaning up, making the office look as though no bonding had occurred. Before leaving, Snape gently ran his hands through his daughter’s hair, messing it up a bit. Evangeline’s hair would always get messy after she played sports, and somehow it looked natural on her - showed off a bit of her wild side. Now, whenever Snape sees her hair even a tad messy, he knew that she had been having fun. Snape brushed his finger at the base of Evangeline’s neck, causing her to flinch and giggle; he smiled. He tenderly kissed her forehead, whispering, “My beautiful child.”

Evangeline was certainly a beautiful girl, a fact not lost on Harry. 

The moment his green eyes caught her walking into the Great Hall, he couldn’t help but watch her every movement. Most of the students, and a few staff, watched as she strolled towards the Gryffindor table with an air of confidence, her robes billowing behind her as she sat down, filled her plate, and began eating. 

This was a common occurrence. 

The majority of Hogwarts felt Evangeline was a different breed of witch. It wasn’t because of how talented she was in her classes, it was everything else. She commanded attention and respect without needing to ask, and people regularly parted for her like the Red Sea in the halls. Her intense black eyes that shone with a fierce determination were like two onyx jewels, standing out against her pale skin that was so well-defined it had to have been created by one of the greatest sculptors of the century. Her hair, that was braided on certain days and messy on others, was parted right down the middle and framed her face like a silk curtain with soft curls. When she spoke, everyone could hear the exotic accent mixed in with the British one; it sounded like Spanish, but they weren’t sure. She was a girl that was hard to ignore. She had this thing about her, this strange aura that grabbed people’s attention. 

Harry has talked to her a few times. She was a friendly girl, but weirdly, she never spoke about her family, especially her father. 

All of Gryffindor felt bad for her as the Potions Master, Snape, would harp on her every Potions class and constantly give her detentions. Sometimes, the professor would get so angry that he’d start making weird hand gestures that would force Evangeline’s ADHD to focus on, resulting in him getting more angry. It was a surprise she hadn’t broken down crying yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry hated Draco Malfoy more than he hated his bully of a cousin, Dudley. It was partially because the first-year Slytherin had a massive crush on Evangeline, a fact he didn’t keep quiet. Thankfully, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with first-year Slytherins, so Harry didn’t have to hear or see Draco terribly flirt with Evangeline. Though, he did enjoy seeing the color drain from his face once he noticed the murderous glare Snape gave him as he vibrated with fury, which was a weird reaction to have when one student flirts with another.

Until . . . 

Professor McGonagall had posted a notice in the Gryffindor common room, informing the first-years that their flying lessons started on Thursday. The first-years excitement quickly diminished once they realized they’d be flying with first-year Slytherins. 

“Typical,” said Harry darkly. “Just what I always wanted, to make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy.”

“You don’t know that you’ll make a fool of yourself,” Ron reassured. “Anyway, I know Malfoy’s always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that’s all talk.” 

Malfoy spoke about flying a lot, often complaining loudly about how first-years never getting placed into House Quidditch teams, and boasting about the many times he narrowly escaped Muggles in helicopters. Evangeline called him a liar as not even his father had enough money to bribe the newspapers from headlining: WEALTHY PURE-BLOOD’S SON STUPIDLY TRIES TO EXPOSE THE WIZARDING WORLD MULTIPLE TIMES. 

Although, her words were much more harsh. 

When questioned, Evangeline had confessed that she wasn’t very good at flying a broom, and the moment the magical boys heard that, they offered to teach her. Seamus Finnigan felt he was more qualified to teach her as he had spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick, whereas Ron didn’t have his own broom and almost hit a hang glider. Evangeline firmly turned them down because, “If my father found out I was alone with a boy, he’d blow a gasket!”

Hermione Granger was just as nervous about flying as Neville was, and as expected, she went into the library and grabbed a book called Quidditch Through the Ages to learn everything she could about the subject. Evangeline tried to convince her that learning how to fly a broom is like learning how to ride a horse, just because you have the equipment and knowledge doesn’t mean you can control the horse. However, no convincing could stop the bushy-haired girl from lecturing her peers to boredom during breakfast on Thursday; Neville listened to her with keen ears, desperately wanting to avoid having an accident in the air and would take any form of advice.

Thankfully, for the first-years, Hermione’s lecture was interrupted by the mail. 

Harry hadn’t received a single letter since Hagrid’s note, something Malfoy was quick to notice and he was very quick to gloat about the packages of sweets he got from his parents. 

Evangeline received plenty of things from her family. Sweets dyed blue and uplifting notes from her mother, detailed drawings from her eight-year-old brother, and for some reason, her father sent her cryptic messages. 

Neville excitedly opened a small package from his grandmother, removing a glass ball the size of a large marble that was filled with white smoke. “It’s a Remembrall!” He explained, showing it off to them. “Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh . . . “ At the sight of the Remembrall glowing scarlet, Neville’s face fell. “You’ve forgotten something. . .”

Neville furrowed his brows, staring inquisitively at the Remembrall as he tried his hardest to remember what he had forgotten. This was one of the things he didn’t like about himself, how he could hardly remember anything. He hoped this object would be of some use, but it wasn’t! It didn’t help at all! 

He had been so busy trying to remember that he didn’t notice Malfoy, who had just happened to be passing by, leaning in to snatch the Remembrall out of his hands. Without even looking up from the letter from her father, detailing what potion she’d have to poorly brew, Evangeline’s hand shot up and grabbed Malfoy’s wrist. 

Malfoy jumped, not having expected Evangeline to do such a thing. Her grip was tight enough that he couldn’t pull back his hand, but gentle enough that there was little to no pain. Harry and Ron, who had jumped to their feet, Seamus, whose mouth was open and about to gulp down a spoon of porridge, the Weasley twins, who stared with a look of amazement, and everyone else - except Hermione, whose nose was stuck in her book - stared at Evangeline, who still didn’t look up from her letter. 

“Let. It. Go,” was all she said. Her normal cheerful tone was gone, replaced by a casual sentence with an underlying threat in her words. 

Malfoy’s face paled, a shiver running down his spine at how she said those words. He looked around the Gryffindors closest to them and his friends, looking for reassurance that he wasn’t seeing or hearing things. Everyone was quiet, both confused and alarmed by Evangeline’s sudden change in demeanor. Malfoy jumps as Evangeline’s grip on his wrist tightens, and he immediately lets go of the Remembrall, stepping back and massaging his now free wrist. 

Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble faster than any professor, rushed over and asked, “What’s going on?”

Before anyone could say anything, Evangeline looked up towards Professor McGonagall with a sweet smile and calmly explained, “Nothing, professor. Malfoy had simply come over to ask where we’d be having our flying lessons today, and Harry and Ron had offered to show him and his friends.”

Professor McGonagall’s stern expression softens and her lips curl into a small smile. “Oh, well, that’s very kind of you boys.” She nodded her head towards Harry and Ron before turning around and walking off. 

The moment the professor was out of earshot, Evangeline’s smile turned into an annoyed frown and her eyes became cold as she turned to look at Malfoy. She looked the boy and his friends up and down, almost inspecting them as they felt her stare into their souls every time their eyes met, before she asked, not-so-nicely, “Why are you still here?”

Immediately, the boys scampered off. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At three-thirty that afternoon, the first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins were standing on a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds that led to the forbidden forest, whose trees swayed darkly in the distance. In front of the students, laid in neat lines, were twenty broomsticks. 

Their professor, Madam Hooch, arrived shortly after them. She had short, spiky, gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk. “Well, what are you all waiting for?” She barked. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”

As the students hurried to stand by a broom, Harry and Ron made sure that they got to stand by Evangeline. Despite the earlier hostile display Evangeline made, Malfoy did feel a tad jealous, especially since he couldn’t even stand in front of her. He kept looking over at her, hoping that she’d make eye contact with him, but she never did. 

Harry glanced down at his broomstick, and upon seeing how old it was and how its twigs stuck out at odd angles, he became upset at having to ride it. 

The thought of embarrassing himself in front of Evangeline sounded much worse than embarrassing himself in front of Malfoy. Harry wanted to impress her, and he’s not sure if he can do that on this broom. Although, she did say that she wasn’t the best at flying a broom, so maybe she won’t even notice. Hopefully. 

“Stick out your right hand over your broom,” called Madam Hooch, “and say ‘Up!’”

“Up!” Everyone shouted. 

Harry noted his broom was one of the few that jumped into their rider’s hands. Hermione’s had rolled over and Neville’s didn’t move at all; Evangeline’s jumped straight into her hand, and she gripped it firmly with that same fierce determination in her eyes. Her eyes watched Neville as he tried to get the broom to jump into his hand, and after a few minutes, she leaned forward and quietly advised how to command the broom. After finally managing to do it, Neville flashed Evangeline a thankful smile. 

Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off at the end before walking up and down the rows, correcting their grip. While Harry and Ron were happy to hear her tell Malfoy he’d been doing it wrong for years, they were stunned to see her not correct Evangeline. They thought she would, considering Evangeline herself said she wasn’t good at flying a broom. 

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” Madam Hooch instructed, lifting her whistle to her lips. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two –” 

However, a thought sparked in Neville’s mind. What if he didn’t kick off on time? He might hesitate, and then he’ll be left behind. If he kicks off too late, then they’ll laugh at him, won’t they? He doesn’t want them to laugh or taunt him. He’s been making too many mistakes the past few weeks, and he’s not going to let this be another one. 

Letting his fear of being left on the ground get the better of him, Neville pushed off the ground before Madam Hooch even blew her whistle.

“Come back, boy!” she shouted, but Neville had forgotten how to come down. 

He kept rising and rising, his face losing its color as he watched the people below get smaller and smaller. His mind was swirling with voices; one scolded him for pushing off too early, another kept talking about how high they were getting, and the last freaked out about what everyone would think of him. Neville could just hear Professor Snape’s voice insulting him. “Idiot boy!” He’d say. “Thought you’d look good if you kicked off first, did you? You’re an arrogant fool. You don’t deserve the name Longbottom.”

At the slightest slip of his grip, Neville gasped, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes darted to his hands. Sweat. His hands were sweating. His eyes grew wide with fear, his breathing coming in hard and fast, and his heart skipped another beat as he lost his grip and slid off the broom.

The length of time it took for Neville to reach the ground felt like days, when it was really a few seconds. The wind rushed through his hair, cooling his face as eyes opened and closed rapidly to avoid seeing the ground and seeing how close he was getting to it. 

Fortunately, he had a soft surface to land on. Evangeline. 

With a loud thud, Neville landed on Evangeline and made her feel like she had been crushed - albeit by something that weighed as much as an apple. 

Madam Hooch rushed over to the two, pulling Neville up to his feet and quickly assessing him. Evangeline slowly sat up, being offered a hand by Malfoy. She had only raised her arm a few inches before letting out a pained cry and doubling over, clutching her side as her eyes water. A sharp sting had erupted on the right side of her chest. Like a fire in a dry forest, the stinging sensation spread and flared with each breath Evangeline took. She was too afraid to stand up, much less move; she’s broken enough bones to know this had to be a cracked rib. 

“I think he cracked my rib,” she muttered hoarsely. 

Madam Hooch knelt down, putting her hand up Evangeline’s jumper and shirt and inspecting the injury. “I think you’re right,” she says, glancing at her student who was finding it difficult to breathe without wincing. Madam Hooch helps her up, being careful to not aggravate the injury, before turning to the rest of the class. “None of you is to move while I take this girl to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear.”

Evangeline limped back up to the castle, putting most of her weight on her left side as Madam Hooch kept her arm around her, making sure she didn’t fall. 

The second the two were out of sight, a scowling Draco Malfoy pushed Neville to the ground. Standing over him, he shouted, “You clumsy idiot! Just wait until Professor Snape hears about this!”

Harry and Ron immediately got in between Malfoy and Neville, not caring that Crabbe and Goyle, who were tall and strong-looking boys, had come up to defend Malfoy like a pair of bodyguards. “Leave him alone, Malfoy!” said Harry. 

“And why would Professor Snape care about what happened to Evangeline?” Ron inquired, smirking as he found the threat to be a poor one.

“Haven’t you heard, Weasley?” Malfoy’s tone was filled with derision as he spoke to someone he thought less of. “Evangeline is Snape’s daughter.”

There was a long pause. 

Everyone was stunned, with a few whispering, “His daughter?” “What is he talking about?” “Has Malfoy gone mad?” But then they started thinking. 

The two had the same black hair, pale skin, hooked nose, and dark eyes, except with slight differences. Snape’s hair was greasy, Evangeline’s was smoothly disheveled; Snape had sallow skin whereas Evangeline’s is practically porcelain; Snape’s hooked nose was large and Evangeline’s was barely noticeable; and lastly, Snape’s dark eyes were as cold as an ice storm, and Evangeline’s were warm like a campfire. 

They had seen it with their own eyes, but had never connected the dots. Even now, they still couldn’t believe Snape and Evangeline were father and daughter.

“Y-you’re lying,” stammered Neville, his eyes wide and his voice quivering with fear. He looked to be on the verge of tears. 

“My father saw them in Diagon Alley,” Malfoy proudly told everyone. “My father has known Professor Snape since Hogwarts, and he said that Evangeline looks exactly like him when he was young.”

Harry and Ron wanted to believe Malfoy was lying, that this was another one of those things he boasts about, but they couldn’t see anything other than the truth in his words. Neville was connecting the dots as well. He had hurt Professor Snape’s daughter. He had sent her to the Hospital Wing. 

“Professor Snape’s going to kill me,” Neville breathed out, crawling back into a tree.

Malfoy smirked, taking a step forward, his voice dropping to a foreboding whisper. “I also heard he loves his daughter more than anything in the world, and that he’d kill anyone who dared to hurt her.”

Neville whimpered. 

Without even thinking, Harry shoved Malfoy. It wasn’t a very hard shove, it only made Malfoy take two steps back. The other Slytherins moved forward, ready to pounce if need be. However, Malfoy had another idea. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he had spotted something shiny glistening in the afternoon sun. It was Neville’s Remembrall. Quickly, he snatched it up and held it high for everyone to see. “Look what we have here.”

“Hey!” Neville shouts, standing up and getting close. “That’s mine. Give it back.”

“You want it? Come and get it.” 

 Malfoy picked up his broomstick and flew off, hovering next to the topmost branches of a nearby oak tree. He threw the Remembrall in the air and caught it, taunting Neville, challenging him to pick up a broomstick and fly up after him. Except, it wasn’t Neville who picked up the broom and went after him. It was Harry. 

“No!” Hermione Granger shouted, trying to stop him. “Madam Hooch told us not to move – you’ll get us all into trouble.” 

As always, she was ignored. Harry flew up towards Malfoy, blood pounding in his ears, the breeze rushing through his hair and making his robes whip out behind him. In a split second, he realized he knew just how to maneuver his broom - it was easy, and being up there, with the wind encasing him and the rush of adrenaline flowing through his veins, he felt . . . wonderful. Like he could do anything. And right now, he was going to get Neville’s Remembrall back. 

Malfoy had a stunned look on his face as he watched Harry come towards him, the screams and gasps of the girls plus an admiring whoop from Ron echoing below. He couldn’t believe his eyes. This was Harry’s first time on a broomstick, and yet, here he was. Flying like a pro. 

“Give it here,” Harry called, “or I’ll knock you off that broom!”

Malfoy did his best to not look worried as he sneered. “Oh, yeah?”

The next thing Malfoy sees is Harry grasping his broom tightly with both hands, leaning forward, and then shooting toward him like a javelin. He managed to move out of the way before Harry could crash into him. With wide eyes, Malfoy glanced down at the Gryffindors who clapped at Harry’s spectacular display, and he felt his heart racing. 

“No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy!” 

The same thought just came to Malfoy. He looked down so Harry wouldn’t see the worry in his eyes as he did his best to put on a brave face. The Gryffindor was right. Even if Crabbe and Goyle picked up their brooms, they’ve never flown. They wouldn’t make it up. They probably wouldn’t even get one foot off of the ground before crash landing. Malfoy needed to think of something, and he needed to think of something fast. 

As his ice-gray eyes darted in every direction, they finally landed on the Remembrall in his hands. Malfoy didn’t need to think very long before he shouted, “Catch it if you can, then!” and he threw the Remembrall high into the air, and rushed back to the ground. 

Harry’s eyes latched onto the Remembrall, and for him time slowed. He could hear the single breath he exhaled, the way the wood felt beneath his tightening grip, and his heart returning to a steady beat as he leaned forward and pointed the broom handle down, and then like a torpedo he dove, following the path of the Remembrall. Harry could hear everyone screaming, but their screams sounded distant, as if they were much farther than they truly were. He stretched out his hand, reaching for the Remembrall. Less than a foot from the ground, he pulled his broom straight, toppling gently onto the ground, Remembrall grasped tightly into his fist. 

With a proud grin, Harry stood up and walked over to Neville, handing the Remembrall back. “HARRY POTTER!”

The grin was wiped off of Harry’s face, his heart sinking as he watched Professor McGonagall running towards them. “Never – in all my time at Hogwarts – how dare you – might have broken your neck –” 

“It wasn’t his fault, professor –”

“Be quiet, Miss Patil.” 

“But Malfoy –”

“That’s enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.”

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had a triumphant look on their faces as they watched Harry numbly follow closely behind Professor McGonagall back to the castle. Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest, his triumphant look turning into a smug smirk; Ron glared at the back of his head, scenarios of what he’d do to the arrogant rich boy if he didn’t have two large boys protecting him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Great Hall was abuzz with activity. The incidents that occurred between Neville and Evangeline and Harry and Malfoy had spread across the school, but not as much as Malfoy’s statement that Evangeline was Snape’s daughter. No one could believe that a kind girl like her could come from someone harsh like him. Many tried to disprove it, citing how different the two were, but others pointed out the similarities in appearance and mannerisms. The rumor had spread to the staff, and they were just as quick to shut it down before taking another second to think.  

Professor McGonagall stated that during the Sorting ceremony, before she called out Evangeline’s name, she felt that there was something off about it. There was a space between Evangeline and Prince, which was why she paused. The others confessed that they had noticed the change too, but weren’t sure if it was a mistake or on purpose. It was then that Headmaster Dumbledore remembered Snape’s mother’s maiden name was Prince. Professor Quirrell hypothesized that Evangeline was his sister, but with her age and the time Snape’s parents died, it was unlikely. 

“Wait, if Evangeline is his daughter,” started Professor Sprout, the realization hitting her like a sack of bricks, “then, this means Snape had sex . . . with a woman.”

The others were hit by the same realization. One of the professors suggested Evangeline was born from a one-night-stand and the woman was extremely drunk, but Nearly Headless Nick chimed in that Evangeline not only has a mother but a younger brother named Theodore. 

“He has a wife?” Professor McGonagall exclaimed in shock. 

“And a son as well,” said Professor Sinistra. “Why is this the first we’re hearing of this?”

“Severus was always a bit secretive,” said Professor Flitwick.

“Yes,” said Dumbledore, “but you’d think he’d share something important as having a family.”

They knew the majority of rumors they heard from the students were false, but Evangeline was solid proof that they were right this time. Still, they couldn’t imagine it. Snape with a wife and two kids. Flitwick always thought women were too scared of him, while Trelawney thought he was too shy to even approach a woman. They wanted to ask Snape himself how true these rumors were, but he hadn’t arrived for dinner, which was strange.

As the Great Hall wondered what Severus Snape’s wife and son looked like, with some commenting that his wife was just as bad as him and surmised the two were just as harsh with their children, the doors burst open and a salty smell filled the air.  

They all looked up, craning their heads to get a better look at the tall man with light-green skin, blue eyes, and short dark hair that stood in the doorway. A white cloth was draped around his athletic body and over his left shoulder, being held up by a golden medallion. 

“Hello, my name is Konstantinos,” he proclaimed, his eyes scanning the room with great excitement and eagerness. “I am a Tritone, a member of the God of the Seas court. I am here for his daughter.” 

[dishtothedeath]

Whales Swim in The Starry Sky || Producer || MM.3 || RE: erm.

Shouting, anger, threats to kill him- in truth that's what he had expected from Alfie.

Instead he got the hatred and anger he expected from Alfie in Giselle.

And Giselle's tears which he expected he got from-

"... Of course... before I answer, my offer to you both is always still on the table. Regardless of what I say, there's no hard feelings on my end regardless of the choice you make."

As if he still had room to act like the offer changed much. The offer that made sense to him when he had heard it and used as well. After all he knew their reactions never would be good, not when he's reasonings were so...

"I should start with asking Araceli for anything is a bit of a lost cause... she was just a hire because I was too stubborn to care about assisting on the reality tv side of things..."

As for his reasons, the Producer found himself glazing over that aspect of the question.

"... I can't be sure if we were really friends... By agreement we were... but ah... I mean you were rather cruel to me weren't you? Agreeing to be my first friend, then prioritizing the one you were infatuated with despite my concerns, and then I comforted you after everything and you pushed me away when I almost died-- I really thought I almost did too you know... there was no real protections made for me until after that. I was just doing my job trying to stop someone from discovering too much and he used the chance to mess with me…

I did still enjoy my time around you despite those things though."

Giving a sigh, the Producer leans back and moves through his tablet. Not truly working on anything, instead just idly reviewing data, reviewing stability levels, making a few temporary adjustments on second nature.

"...For what it's worth, which isn't much however... I was honest when I said I would like for us three to get out. If I had control over those who killed I would have done something I feel… If that’s friendship, then maybe we were friends…"

But he didn't and Alfie was still dead. Technically, he had the power to stop things just before that. But he had told Araceli to not kill, and he had assumed she would understand that he was the one person never allowed to leave the island early. Still she was too optimistic, and still cowered out.

And then there was the other one vying for his attention. After being told forget it, it would be so easy, so simple to just comply with the request.

“... Manqian you think to lowly of yourself if you're seeing me now, aware I attempted to override the execution by any means possible and I don't want you alive… though perhaps that was selfish of me."

Eyes remaining trained on his tablet, he continues his idle work.

"Our last conversation was selfish too, after all I knew something would have to give eventually after Fergus’ little stunt, so I apologize for both of those things. I knew it would be unfair, yet I still acted as I did.

Still... you don't really know much about me anyways since you're asking those questions. Just infatuated with me because I was nice... so...”

Had he not bubbled up with laughter, he likely would have been more sound in his response, but he had found himself caught up without a weight on his shoulder for a moment, a moment too long.

Perhaps he had expected a bit more time before he had to deal with the consequences. Even though there were consequences he expected to reach him no matter what.

There was a question he should answer really.

“... The research I’ve gathered should potentially assist your sister… Baozhai was it? If nothing else… you should be able to properly reunite with her. While not an intended part of this, it seems you all want something good to come out of it all.

So there... Consider it payment for letting me laugh... it was nice."

He really should answer that question more directly.

[uvobreakmylegs]

Detour

I’m excited that it’s fall but i’m also sad that i won’t be able to swim anymore

Warnings: death, graphic depictions of violence, creepy behavior, groping, mentions of smut, kidnapping

The two guys at the gas station check out counter had been there when Phinks had first walked through the sliding glass doors, and they were still there when he approached the check out himself, having only dropped in to grab another pack of beer. The gas station clerk seemed annoyed while the two guys were pulling their pockets inside out, evidently in search of any spare change that may have been hiding on their persons. There was a sad pile of jenny and some change sitting in front of the clerk while she waited for them impatiently, and she seemed ready to push all of the money back towards them as it became more and more likely that these two didn't have enough cash for the assortment of alcohol and junk food that also sat on the counter.

Any other time Phinks would've been annoyed by the situation. But seeing as he didn't have anywhere to be, he found that he didn't really care all that much. The troupe likely wouldn't meet back up for some time which left his schedule quite open, and he had found it difficult to find something to occupy his time with while he waited for the boss to bring everyone together again.

Phinks had decided that a road trip was a decent way to pass the time. It was something he'd never really done before and so far it was easing his boredom as he had hoped it would. There was no real time limit he had set on himself or any destination that he had in mind. He'd just keep doing whatever he felt like until the novelty of the trip wore off and then go home.

“Would you like to take a few items off?”

The tired voice of the clerk cut through his thoughts, and Phinks found that there had been no progress with the two in front of him.

“No no, we need all of it,” one of the men, a redhead, insisted, “we just, uh....”

Trailing off, the man glanced over to Phinks, who was still waiting with his single pack of beer. Then the man looked over to his companion and then back to the items on the counter.

Phinks could already sense what the man was going to ask of him before he spoke out.

“Hey man,” the guy said to Phinks, “I know it sounds bad, but do you think you could spot me on this? I'm bringing this stuff back for my party. We ran out of some stuff way quicker than we expected. Can't let people down, y'know?”

The redhead started telling him how much more they needed until the clerk interrupted him to tell him off for harassing other customers for money. A mini argument started between the two, with the man insisting that he wasn't harassing anyone and the clerk disagreeing with him. The man's friend joined in shortly after and it was quickly turning into a mess.

What obnoxious fucking people.

If he was in more of a bad mood he'd have probably snapped the necks of all of them. The presence of cameras stopped him from doing that, however, as it would just be too much of a pain to go to the back and destroy the footage after. Still, even though he didn't have anywhere to be, it didn't mean that he wanted to waste his time listening to people bicker. The easiest way out of this was to just give them the jenny so they'd all shut up.

After pulling out his wallet, Phinks slid the jenny across the counter.

That shut the three of them up, and the two men were quick to express their gratitude while the clerk just looked tired.

“Thank you so, so much, man,” the redhead continued after they collected their bagged items.

“Mm-hm.”

Phinks was only half-paying attention to him as he waited for the clerk to scan the beer so he could hand her the jenny owed. That transaction went much quicker and Phinks was soon making his way to the exit.

The two men seemed to be waiting on him, though.

“Hey, since you helped us out, you wanna come to my party?” the redhead asked.

Normally his automatic response would've been to give him a flat “no”. But in this instance Phinks just shrugged.

That seemed to give the redhead hope, and he began listing the reasons why Phinks should follow them back, like his “cool house”, hot women and great beer.

Given the especially cheap brand of beer Phinks had largely paid for, he had a hard time believing that last point. He also wasn't quite sure why this guy was so insistent on getting him to come along. Was it really just because Phinks had bothered to help them out?

“Name's Stu by the way. Back there is Billy,” the redhead told him, sticking out his arm to shake hands. When Phinks didn't do the same, Stu seemed a bit dejected, yet even that didn't make him back down from inviting Phinks.

“So how 'bout it, man? You wanna come?”

“.... I'll think about it,” he told him.

“Okay, but do it fast man. My place isn't that far from here.”

Phinks nodded, and Stu ran off to the car where his friend was waiting. The other guy didn't seem as keen on Phinks as the redhead had, regarding the blonde with suspicion. Phinks could hear him saying something as the two entered the car. Stu seemed to brush him off, and then their car doors closed and Phinks couldn't hear anything else.

The two ended up pulling out of the parking lot before he did, and Phinks found himself following them as they all made the same turn onto the highway.

He still had no real urge to go to some random guy's party, especially when he found him to be pretty annoying. And if it was a party filled with the friends of someone like that, he'd probably get irritated with all of them pretty quick. Better to just ignore them and be on his way.

Although the thought of just driving aimlessly through the night wasn't all that attractive, either. He'd done that several times now, and the feeling of being the only person in the world while he drove on the empty highway had lost its touch by now.

The car in front of him veered off the highway to get onto a side road.

After a few seconds, Phinks did the same, just thinking to himself 'why not?'. It would be something different, a little detour on a trip that was meant to be a distraction, and if it ended up being something that he didn't want to bother with, then he could just leave.

Although the noise level in the house wasn't quiet, it was nowhere near ear-shatteringly loud as Phinks may have expected. At least it had that in it's favor. Other than that, it was a stereotypical frat house party, with everyone talking and drinking as they got more and more shitfaced.

The two who brought him here vanished into the kitchen, and Phinks began to make his way around the house, sipping one of the cans of beer he had bought for himself since he had no interest in the shit the host had him pay for. A girl in one of the upstairs rooms noticed the beer in his hand and begged him to share with her, even going as far as to tug on the sleeve of his jacket when he told her no. He ended up pushing her away, and though he had tried to use as little force as possible, his strength combined with her tipsiness caused her to stumble back into a wall. She was still whining about him when he walked back down the stairs, going on about how mean he was.

He thought he'd been pretty nice to her, all things considered.

It didn't take long for Phinks to lose interest in this particular distraction. Not that he'd been expecting much, but after going around the house and not even seeing anything that might be worth stealing, he figured it'd be best to leave soon. With his short temper being one of his vices, he didn't want to deal with what would happen if some drunk got on his nerves and he smashed them into the wall.

With the sights, sounds and smells became grating to him and seeing no reason to stay any longer, Phinks went about trying to find an exit. Attempting to get out the same way he came in was put to a stop when he saw how congested the front entrance had become. He could've easily pushed past all of them, but since that would likely draw a fair amount of attention, maybe it'd be a better idea to find a different way out. Phinks wandered into the kitchen, walking by Stu who tried to talk to him. A patio door leading to the backyard caught his eye and he ignored the party's host as he walked by several people to get to it.

The cool air outside felt refreshing and he let out a soft sigh as the patio door slowly swung closed. Claustrophobia generally wasn't something he had an issue with, but that seemed to change a little when he was faced with a house full of drunken strangers who didn't understand the meaning of personal space. Another nice thing was the fact that no one else seemed to be out here. He didn't think it was that cold out, but it worked just fine if the people inside thought otherwise.

He stood on a deck with an assortment of patio furniture that sat in front of an in ground pool, and when he looked to the side, he saw the gate within the fencing that surrounded the backyard.

That was his way out, then.

With no more reason to stick around, he was about to head out and back to his car-

But he paused when he heard the sound of splashing water, and he looked back to the pool.

So he wasn't the only person out here.

Some of the patio furniture had blocked you from his sight so he hadn't noticed you at first, but you were now swimming out into the center of the pool and impossible to miss. It was pretty late in the year for swimming, wasn't it? Yet you seemed to be content with yourself despite the temperature and lack of company, swimming around the pool like you owned it. Maybe you did; he wasn't sure what your relation was to the party host.

Then your eyes met, and you smiled as you greeted him.

“Hello.”

“... Hey.”

He hadn't come out to look for company. He was looking to leave.

Yet something about this situation, about you, intrigued him, and Phinks walked forward, continuing with “isn't it a little late in the season for swimming?”

“That's what everyone seems to think,” you said, “it's going to be drained tomorrow, so I wanted to swim one more time before that. It's the last chance I'll get for this year.”

“No public pools around here?” he asked.

“I don't really like public pools,” you told him, laughing a little bit as you continued “the ones around here are never clean, and I don't wanna swim around in nasty water.”

Phinks couldn't say if he really had an opinion one way or the other. He tried to avoid situations where he'd need to be shirtless in public, as the spider with the number 5 on his ribs would've been a dead giveaway for anyone who understood it's meaning. He just shrugged at you as he said “fair enough.”

Phinks now stood at the edge of the pool while you swam up to the edge.

“I don't think I've seen you before. You new around here?” you asked him.

“No. Just passing through. Helped out the host at the gas station and he invited me as thanks,” Phinks explained, “I was expecting this to be taking place at some shitty apartment; didn't think a guy like that owned a house.”

“He doesn't, it belongs to his older brother Jed. Stu just lives with him,” you responded.

“Ah.”

That made a bit more sense to him. Since he hadn't been able to buy beer from a gas station on his own, it didn't seem likely that the guy would've had his own house. So he was just leeching off of his brother.

Despite being ready to leave just minutes earlier, he found that he now had a reason to want to stay here longer. But standing and talking to you was getting a little awkward, so Phinks sat himself down on the concrete next to the pool. So far you weren't annoying compared to some of the others. And despite being by yourself beforehand, you seemed pretty open to talking with him, resting your arms on the edge of the pool.

“You friends with them, then?”

“Jed is in a few of my classes, so I'm friends with him. Not Stu, though. He's kind of an asshole. Likes to play a lot of stupid pranks.”

You rested your chin in your hand as you thought back.

“He's destroyed two of my phones so far, both times by dumping water on me,” you said, “although I guess he did repay me for both, but it's still such a hassle to go through.”

“You're nicer than I am. If some guy like that fucked up my phone I'd kill him.”

You laughed at him, not taking his words seriously.

“You seem nice enough. You helped him out, right?”

“Only because it was the fastest way to get outta there. Stupid bastard started an argument with the clerk.”

“Yeah. That sounds like something he'd do,” you said, tiredness lacing your voice.

A cheer then sounded from inside the house, and though the doors and windows were closed, it was loud enough that the both of you could hear it from outside.

“Things must be ramping up in there,” you commented.

“Guess so,” Phinks said, taking a swig of his drink after.

“Isn't it kinda weird that you're keeping to yourself with an event like this? Don't see the point in going out if you're going to avoid people,” he added.

“But isn't that what you're doing by coming out here?” you asked.

“Nah, I was getting ready to leave.”

“What stopped you?”

“I haven't done much out here beside sitting here talking to you. What do you think?”

You seemed a bit taken aback and a little embarrassed as you realized the reason, but gave him a small smile.

“Oh wow. Are you saying I managed to be charming enough to keep a guy from leaving?” you asked him.

“No. You're just not as annoying as the others I've met tonight.”

Your expression was rather blank as you took in that information.

“..... I'll take that as a compliment, then,” you said, “so what do you do?”

“What do I do?”

“For a job, or just anything in general.”

“I do a couple odd jobs here and there, I guess,” he answered, “every once in a while a bigger opportunity comes up, and I just do whatever I need to.”

It was an oversimplification of his criminal activities, and he hoped that he'd been vague enough without sounding suspicious.

It appeared that he had as you didn't seem to think it was strange.

“You mentioned earlier that you were just passing through. Are you on your way to a job or something?”

“Nah. I'm currently off-duty. And I had a lot of time to kill, so I decided to take a road trip.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” you said, “I work on campus, so I don't really get to do vacations for now. Can't remember the last time I went on one.”

“Job at least worth it?”

“Kind of? Although the other week I needed to go through something stupid.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I got screamed at by a lady.”

Your tone made it seem like that was something happened on a regular basis.

“For what?” he asked.

“Something with her daughter's textbooks. She ordered one that she didn't need on accident but didn't want to admit that she made a mistake, so she just let her mother yell at me for forty minutes and claim that we were the ones who fucked up.”

You sighed a little after the explanation. Evidently that situation still made you frustrated.

“.... Did she apologize after?” Phinks asked.

With a slightly wistful smile, you shook your head as you said “people like that don't apologize.”

“Sounds rough.”

It went without saying that Phinks wouldn't have tolerated anything like that. If it had been him he'd have killed them both and tossed their bodies in the trash. But he kept that rather violent thought to himself.

“Sorry you needed to deal with that,” he added.

“It's okay. It's little things that keep you going,” you said, “I've been looking forward to swimming for a while, so I'm pretty happy right now. Although I guess I'm kinda doing a job right now.”

“How so?”

“Jed's at his job right now, and since he doesn't trust Stu, he asked me to make sure nothing happens to the pool. The last time Stu had a party there was a bunch of trash in it the next morning, and it was a pain to clean up. So in exchange for using the pool, I have full permission to snitch on anyone who tosses anything.”

“Yeah? What's snitching gonna do?”

“Jed's a scary guy. Nobody wants to make him mad.”

If Phinks had felt like being more of an asshole, and if you'd been unpleasant during your conversation with him, he probably would've taken his half-finished beer can and thrown it into the pool just to upset you and also to see if your friend was as scary as you were making him out to be.

But so far he'd been enjoying himself, so as fun as that thought might have been, he decided against it.

You pulled one of your arms off of the rim and back into the water. Evidently you were getting cold, but you held on to the edge to continue speaking to him.

“So how long have you been on your trip?” you asked.

“A few weeks.”

“A few weeks? You must have been all over the place, then. Did you go anywhere in particular?”

“Not really,” Phinks answered, “didn't have any real plan when I set out. Just drove to wherever I thought would be interesting.”

“That's kinda cool,” you said, “must be nice to be able to go wherever you want without any real plan.”

“You can't?”

“Nope. Classes and work means I can't just run off whenever I feel like it.”

“Too busy getting screamed at?” he asked jokingly.

“Yeah, something like that,” you answered, laughing a little after.

You pulled your other arm back underwater and just kept a hand on the side of the wall.

“Cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Probably why most people aren't swimming this late.”

“I don't care; it's worth it,” you said, “honestly, the thought of being able to swim was what kept me going this week.”

That.... Was a little bit sad, Phinks thought to himself. That all you had to look forward to at the end of the week was a few hours to swim by yourself in the cold. There were much sadder circumstances in the world – he was certain that anyone from Meteor City would be more than happy to switch places with you – but your life must have felt empty. Although Phinks was technically in the same boat at the moment, at least being with the troupe gave him purpose. What did you have besides a shitty job and presumably a fair amount of college debt? Just the 'little things' to keep you going?

Maybe he was presuming too much; he'd only just met you after all. But it bothered him regardless.

“What are your plans for after college?” he asked.

You seemed a bit startled, and you looked away from him for the first time.

“Not really sure, actually. I'm still undecided on my major,” you admitted, “I need to figure out soon, though. I'm going to run out of the basic coursework that I need to get through, and my family is getting mad that I haven't made a decision yet.”

So you didn't have any direction and were being pressured by others. Still not the saddest circumstance ever, but if it had been him, Phinks was certain he'd have been miserable.

You clearly didn't want to keep going on about that particular subject, as you began to ask him questions about his trip, wanting to know where exactly he had been so far and how much longer he planned to drive for. The change in topics was obvious, but he decided to go along with it.

As the night grew darker while the two of you talked, he decided that he liked you. You could hold a decent conversation, even if the things you two talked about weren't all that meaningful.

You were pretty cute, too.

The party behind him still seemed to be going strong, but it was largely going ignored by you both, in part by the fact that you were still the only ones outside.

Your face lit up as a thought came to mind.

“You should come in!” you told him.

“No thanks.”

“Come on! It's really nice!”

You grabbed at his free hand, tugging on his arm lightly as you tried to encourage him to get into the pool.

“If you get my suit wet I'll drown you,” Phinks said told you.

You giggled, once more not taking him seriously. Though he was only half-serious about it at this point.

“Then take it off and come in,” you insisted.

“I don't have a swimsuit.”

“That doesn't stop most people.

“Good to know,” he said flatly.

Though you'd stopped tugging on his arm, both of your hands remained on his wrist as you looked up at him.

“Can you not swim?” you asked.

“I can swim fine,” he said, “I just don't feel like it right now.”

You seemed a bit disappointed, but you had yet to let go of his wrist.

“Should you really be that surprised with the temperature being what it is?” he asked you.

“It isn't that bad. And the pool is heated,” you insisted, “didn't think a bit of chill would scare off the most interesting person at this party, though.”

The corner of his lips curled a bit at that. He wasn't one for meaningless flattery, but he didn't mind hearing you say things like that.

“Is that why you're not letting go of me?”

“You don't seem to be doing much to shake me off.”

“I could if I wanted to.”

“So you don't want to?”

You were teasing him. And while he could tease you back, he went for a different approach.

He yanked his wrist out of your grip and grabbed your own wrist just as fast, and lifted you up until you were eye level with him. To say you were flustered by the action would've been an understatement, and your free hand grasped at the arm that held you up to lessen the weight on the arm that he had trapped.

With you partially out of the water, Phinks allowed his eyes to travel over your form, following the trails of water that dripped down your skin and imagining exactly what you looked like under that swimsuit. His grin got wider when he saw your body reacting to the cooler temperature and the way your nipples showed through the material. It hadn't been on his mind when he first approached you, but after spending time with you he found himself liking the idea of fooling around with you. Probably not in the house, and he doubted you would want to do anything in the pool due to that friend of yours you had mentioned. Maybe there was some dark corner around here where he could take you to do what he wanted.

You were squirming a little, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“It's cold,” you whined.

“Yep,” was his reply.

“Come on, let go. I'm only in a swimsuit.”

“You weren't letting me go,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I didn't pull you into the water.”

“Because you're too weak to do that.”

“That's not fair!”

“Don't think this is a situation where fairness matters, sweetheart.”

With that he let you go, and you dropped back down into the pool. You pushed away from the wall after, giving him a slightly sour look.

“Problem?” he asked.

“It's cold,” you repeated.

He just smirked.

“You're gonna need to deal with it at some point,” he told you.

“Yeah, but I wasn't ready for it then!”

You had to have noticed the way he looked at you, right? There was no way you were so oblivious to have not seen how he had blatantly looked you over. Yet you weren't mentioning it.

By now you were more at the center of the pool, pointedly out of his range.

“You done talking?” Phinks asked.

“No, but I don't want you pulling me out again.”

Then you looked away like you were embarrassed.

It clicked for him. You must have liked it, but you were too shy to say anything about it.

Your reluctance was cute, though Phinks knew he'd get tired of that game pretty fast.

“Come back over,” he told you.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

You shook your head.

“You're going to do that again, right?” you asked.

“Maybe.”

“Then no. I don't wanna get out yet.”

“How long are you gonna stay in there?”

“Until I feel like getting out.”

“And if I want you out of there now?”

“Then you'd have to come in and get me.”

…. Oh

That's what it was.

A ploy by you to get him into the pool.

That's what you had to mean by those words, right?

“.... What the hell,” he said to himself as he stood.

It got your attention when he began to remove his clothing, throwing them over to a few neatly folded articles of clothing that sat next to a bag on the patio, which he assumed belonged to you. You were watching him closely, and he could sense a growing interest in you when he removed his shirt. Your eyes lingered a little when you caught sight of his spider tattoo, but there was no hint that you recognized what it meant, which was preferable.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked.

“You were looking at me earlier,” you answered defensively, “you're not allowed to get mad when I do the same.”

“Didn't say I was mad.”

You acknowledging the way he had looked at you then just reaffirmed in his head that you hadn't minded, and after stripping down to his boxers, Phinks jumped in. The water felt just as nice as you had said, but he didn't take much time to focus on it as he was quick to approach you. Within moments, he had wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close, lifting you a little so you were at eye level with him. You seemed flustered again, but you didn't make any move to get away, and were resting your hands on his chest.

“I don't think you told me your name,” you whispered to him.

“Phinks.”

“Phinks,” you repeated, smiling afterwards, “I like it. It's cool.”

“Thanks,” he replied, “and how 'bout you?”

You gave him your name, which he also repeated to himself.

“Not as cool as 'Phinks', I guess,” you said.

“It suits you,” he said.

You smiled at him, then shifted slightly in his grip.

“Are you just gonna keep holding me?”

“You said I needed to come in and get you.”

“And what did you want to 'get' me for?”

Despite the question, you clearly had an idea of what Phinks was after as you began to move in closer to him. Phinks did the same, and slowly, the gap between the two of you was closed as your lips met together in a kiss.

With the heavy scent of pool chemicals that surrounded you two, it was hard to smell much else, but your lips were soft against his. The kiss was a bit tame for his liking, but he let you do what you wanted for now as you readjusted your arms so they were wrapped around his neck.

One of his hands slid down your back to reach down and squeeze your ass, and you gasped into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment before you pulled away, your hand over your mouth as you looked away in embarrassment.

“I'm not sure we should do much more here,” you said, glancing up at the house behind him, “there are people watching. I'm not into that.”

“Where do you wanna go?” he asked. It didn't surprise him much that you two might have attracted an audience, and when he heard the door to the patio open from behind him, he chose to ignore it.

“I don't think we'll get much privacy here, so how about my place?” you asked.

“Do you usually bring home strangers?”

“Only the really cool ones.”

He grinned.

You were leaning in to kiss him again when you suddenly froze and turned your attention to something behind Phinks.

“Don't do that!” you yelled.

Phinks turned his head just in time to see his and your clothes land in the water, with the guy who'd invited him – Stu, he remembered – pointing and laughing after having thrown them. The annoying woman from earlier, the one who had whined at him for his can of beer, was also there, standing behind Stu and running off with him towards the gate in the fence.

Phinks saw red.

He let you go and swiftly exited the pool, following after the two even as the chill of the night air nipped at his skin. He barely felt it, and he didn't give a shit that he was running around barefoot either. All of his focus was on catching up to those two assholes who'd dumped his clothes in the pool.

He was angry enough that he didn't notice the sound of feet following after him.

The two perpetrators were in an alleyway between two rows of houses, drunkenly laughing their asses off. Their demeanor didn't change when Phinks caught up to them. The woman actually began to laugh harder, probably because Phinks was still wearing only his boxers.

Stu was trying to contain himself a bit, and put his hands up as an offering of peace.

“Hey man, it wasn't anything personal. Just a prank,” he said, “you can use the dryer, and I'll lend you some clothes-”

His sentence was cut off when Phinks grabbed both sides of his head and twisted it completely around, the cracking of his broken neck ringing out in the empty alley.

The sight of Stu falling to the ground with his head facing the wrong way had the woman instantly sober up, and she looked to Phinks as she opened her mouth to scream.

Barely a whisper of sound was able to escape as he did the same thing to her, and now Phinks was standing half-naked in an alley with two dead bodies.

“Obnoxious fucking people,” he muttered to himself.

Then there was noise that came from behind him.

Phinks turned and saw the other guy who'd been at the gas station on the ground, his arms barely supporting himself as his eyes were wide at the sight of his friends dead before him.

His eyes widened even further when he spotted the spider on Phinks' ribs, clearly recognizing what it meant as he whispered “oh my god.”

Make that three bodies, Phinks thought to himself as he rushed forward to snap his neck as well.

Three bodies that he needed to get rid of. If anyone else from the party came out here and found them, the police would be called immediately. He had no intentions of staying here any longer, but it'd be best to put a bit of distance between himself and the crime scene before the police were inevitably called.

He was dragging the other guy by his ankles and in the process of collecting the woman's body when someone walked out into the alley through one of the other entrances. An older woman, who was definitely not from the party and had come from another house, carrying a bag of trash walked out in front of Phinks, and like the guy right before, her eyes grew wide as she saw the sight of the dead before her.

She made a move to run back to her house, but Phinks picked up a pebble that he infused with nen and launched it at her head. It traveled through her skull and the fencing beside her, and blood sprayed out from the exit wound and splattered onto the fence as well as she fell to the ground.

This was turning into a goddamn mess, and after Phinks had thrown now four bodies over into a different backyard, he heard a voice calling out “mom?” from the direction that the woman with the trash bag had come from.

Fuck this. He needed to go.

When he returned to the backyard to retrieve his clothes, he found you on the patio. You were holding his jacket over the concrete, desperately trying to wring out the water that had soaked it completely. You were visibly shivering as you did so, with goosebumps running up your arms and your teeth chattering. He noticed his pants hanging off the fence that surrounded the patio, and while they weren't dry by any means, you had clearly done your best to get the water out of them. Meanwhile your own clothes laid in a soggy heap by your equally soaked bag.

You noticed him when he walked closer.

“I'm sorry,” you told him. You looked guilty for some reason.

“You didn't do it,” Phinks said, considerably calmer now.

“No. But I made a big deal about you getting in with me, and with Stu around I should've been paying attention. I'm really, really sorry.”

He was about to tell you to stop apologizing when he heard a shout coming from the direction of the alleyway.

Fuck. He forgot that he needed to leave.

Luckily you were the only one who noticed, as the rest of the party goers still had the doors and windows securely shut. He pulled on his pants and his sopping wet tank top, and the sensation of wearing those wet clothes was just as unpleasant as he had anticipated. At least his shoes were still dry.

You were still holding his jacket, looking confused as you looked off in the direction where you'd heard that voice. Phinks was about to just take it from you and leave, but when he looked you over again, he thought over the things you two had talked about, the things you had said and how you'd acted around him, and he came to a split second decision.

Grabbing your clothes and bag, he shoved them into your hands before he grabbed one of your arms and pulled you after him. You seemed startled, but you didn't question him as you were too surprised to think of anything to say. He led you out through the backyard and down to where he had parked his car, opening the passenger side door and pushing you inside. He then walked around to the driver's side, and within moments you both were speeding out of the neighborhood.

By the time he came to the highway there was a strong smell of pool chemicals that filled the car, and both of the front seats were slowly soaking up the excess water that dripped off of the two of you.

You seemed to be in a mild state of shock, as you had yet to say anything. You just sat in your still wet swimsuit looking rather confused while you still held onto the soaked clothing Phinks had forced onto you.

After a while you shuddered and finally spoke up.

“Do you think you could turn up the heat?” you asked him.

“Oh. Sure. Sorry.”

Phinks turned the heat up all the way, and after a few moments you seemed to relax a bit, though now you were glancing over at him while smiling nervously.

“Uh, so, there's a lot that I should probably be questioning,” you began, “but I'll start with if you knew why there was yelling?”

Should he lie? No, that might be weird if he pretended not to know.

“I punched that guy in the face. I think I broke his nose,” he told you, “that was likely his friend after he saw him.”

“Ah. Okay,” you said, “that's..... Not very good, but I think I get why you did that. You're gonna get charged with assault, though.”

Fat chance.

“I'll deal with that when I come to that,” he answered, “sorry if I put you in a tough position.”

“It's okay. Well, not really. But Stu's pranks have always been pretty bad and what he did was shitty, so I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Think you can forgive me?”

“... Yeah, I think so. Just promise you won't do anything like that again.”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” you said as you nodded, “so second question: where are we going?”

“.... Not sure. Didn't have much of a plan besides getting out of there and going back to what I was doing,” Phinks admitted.

“So you're just back to driving around going wherever?”

“Seems like it.”

“Why did you bring me along?” you asked.

“.... Didn't want that to be the last time I saw you,” he said.

“Oh.....”

His answer ended up making you flustered again, and while you did seem to be holding some reservations about him with his admission of violence and the fact that he really had just kidnapped you, he could see you rationalizing everything in your mind and convincing yourself that this wasn't all that bad.

It was preferable if you did that. It made taking you with him a lot easier.

“Luckily for me I don't work tomorrow,” you said, “and since the day after that is Sunday and the campus store isn't open then, I also have that day off. So I think it's okay if I drive around with you for a bit. Just get me back by Sunday night, alright?”

“Don't worry. I'll get you back safe and sound,” he told you, and you visibly relaxed at his words.

You were a little naive, a little too trusting. But that was fine. Phinks liked that about you.

“Okay so third question,” you announced as you looked down at the wet clothes in your lap, “what should we do about this?”

“Right. Let me pull over.”

He stopped the car beneath a streetlight, and you sat sideways on the passengers seat while you held the clothes out of the car and wrung the water out of them as best you could. Phinks took the opportunity to change after you handed him his jacket, and he threw the mostly damp clothes in the backseat.

Glancing over at you, he did appreciate how much your swimsuit showed off while you tried to dry out your own clothes. But while he liked the idea of you staying as you were for the rest of the trip, you probably wouldn't be as big of a fan of that. Going over to his trunk once more, he dug around through his bag before he found what he was looking for.

“I don't have anything that will fit you well,” Phinks said as he made his way over to you, “but this should cover you up.”

What he handed you was the long white robe he wore on occasion, usually for combat or missions.

You seemed a bit surprised when you saw it, but you accepted it gratefully. Your gaze went to the jeweled eye that hung near the neck of the garment, and he heard you mumble about it being pretty.

He wondered briefly what you might think of the snake headpiece he usually wore with it, but the time for that would come later as you were currently slipping his robe over your head.

“Thank you,” you told him again as you threw your clothing in the back as well.

Then your attention went to your bag, and you frowned.

“What's wrong?”

In response to his question, you tilted your bag to the side and water began to pour out of it.

“Ah.”

“How much do you wanna bet that my phone is dead?” you asked as you reached inside.

As was expected, your phone screen stayed black when you hit the power button, and you sighed.

“And that's phone number three that Stu has destroyed.”

“Don't worry. It won't happen again,” he told you.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You tossed the now useless phone into your bag and looked back up to him as if to say “so what now?”

Phinks had an idea for that.

“Wanna go to a motel?”

“A motel? Wow, you sure know how to treat someone,” you said sarcastically.

“You really think I can get you into a nice hotel with you looking like that? You don't even have shoes,” he said.

“I didn't get a chance to grab them,” you responded, though you seemed to concede a bit.

“Could we stop somewhere tomorrow so I can get shoes or something?”

“I'll buy you a whole new wardrobe if that's what you want.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head and saying that you didn't need that.

Before too long, Phinks was back in the drivers seat while you watched the streetlights as the car passed them by, your fingers idly playing with the jewel on his robes as you did so. He had turned down the heat and turned on the radio, and though it still felt strange to be sitting in the wet seats, it wasn't bothering either of you as much anymore. The smell from the pool was mostly gone after driving a bit with the windows opened just a crack.

Except for the occasional car that drove in the opposite direction, you were the only ones on the highway.

“How far are you gonna drive?” you eventually asked.

He wanted to get out of the state at least. Phinks didn't want to deal with a confrontation with the law while also taking you along with him. He wanted to get as far as he could while you were still cooperative, and whenever you realized that there was no chance he'd be taking you back, he'd go to more extreme measures of keeping you with him. Your phone being dead was a good thing for him; you wouldn't be able to try and get help as easily.

“I think we've passed by three or four motels already,” you added, “was there something wrong with them?”

“No. Sorry. I got a bit distracted,” Phinks replied, “I've come to really like the highway at night. There's something soothing about it, I guess. Wanted to stay like this for a bit longer.”

You nodded in response and looked back out the window, your fingers still playing with the jeweled eye.

“Can I borrow your phone at some point tomorrow? I need to call someone just so everyone back home knows I'm okay. Don't want them to worry,” you said to him.

“Sure,” he said.

Arguing with you over that would seem strange. He'd just need to avoid that subject tomorrow.

He noticed when you yawned.

“Getting tired?” he asked.

“A little,” you said, laughing a little as you added, “this wasn't how I was expecting my night to go.”

“Same here.”

“I hope you decide to stop soon. I might not be up for it tonight if you're planning on continuing where we left off at the pool when we reach that motel.”

“That's fine. We'll have all day tomorrow, right?”

His words made you embarrassed again, and you shyly answered with a yes as you smiled to yourself.

So that was the plan, then. Drive as far as he could tonight, fuck your brains out tomorrow, then get away further before you figured things out. You would likely object, not liking the idea of being taken away from everything you'd ever known. But he was certain that after spending enough time with him, you'd prefer it. Your current life wasn't any good, but he was prepared for you to not understand that at first. And if he needed to tie you up and shove you into the trunk to keep you compliant, he could do that. Seemed like a pretty fool-proof plan.

You were yawning again.

“Get some sleep if you need to,” he said, “I'll wake you up when I find a place I like.”

You nodded. Soon after he saw you settling back into the seat and closing your eyes as you attempted to get some rest.

He liked the sight of you next to him, sitting in his clothes while you nodded off in his car. And when he turned his attention back to the empty highway, he was once again hit with the feeling like he was the only one in the world. A feeling that only came with seeing an area that was typically full of people seem completely abandoned.

But this time, though, he wasn't alone.

[gladerscake]

No One Better

(Gally x Reader)

Hope you have some time, because this one’s large and in charge (of the feels, that is). Huge thanks to all the lovely people who encourage me to keep writing. Enjoy!

A few beads of sweat rolled down your temple, your bottom lip beginning to sting from how hard you were biting down on it, your brows furrowed in intense concentration, all while you were struggling to finally saw through this one stupid chunk of wood. It was a particularly thick one - you’ve been at it for almost ten minutes, with frustratingly minimal results. The muscles of your right arm were positively aching, pleading for you to drop the shucking saw and just ask somebody for help.

However, your resolve was stronger than your protesting muscles. You could do this. You didn’t need help.

You gave yourself a minute to rest before drawing in a deep, determined breath, and getting right back to it. You couldn’t believe it - will all this effort, you’d only managed to saw through half of it, thus far. Gally always made it look so easy...

“Having a bit of trouble there, baby?”

Your mouth immediately curled in a little grin at the deep sound of his voice. Gally’s voice. As if on cue, just when you were beginning to think about him.

The Keeper of the Builders, who you now proudly called your boyfriend, seemed to have a sixth sense for those things. To anything that had to do with you, really.

It’s been a bit over a week, since you two had made the fateful transition from close friends to something much, much more thrilling. And even though it hasn’t been that long since the change of your relationship’s nature, you could say, without question or a shadow of a doubt, that you’ve never felt happier.

The way Gally treated you on the daily, with such gentleness, care, and endless affection, made your heart bloom with delight at his mere presence. You couldn’t say you had been shocked by his manner - he’s always been kind to you, since the moment you two have met. But seeing this side of him, the loving and warm side, the one nobody else but you got to see, was a gift in itself. You believed you were immensely lucky that Gally returned your feelings and wanted you by his side, and you couldn’t wish for someone better. To you, there was no one better - simple as that.

As of this moment, you chose to bite back a cheeky remark in response to Gally’s slightly teasing question. Instead, you straightened out your posture, allowing your grin to grow as you loosened your death-grip on the saw handle and turned to face him.

“Me? Not at all! What gave you that impression?” You chirped as Gally chuckled, deeply, taking a big step closer to you. His striking bluish-green eyes peered down at your delicate features, an amused grin playing at the corners of his mouth. God, you could never get used to how attractive he was to you...

“You’re kidding, right? I could hear your grunts all the way from the Deadheads.” He glanced at the saw in your hand, trailing his gaze to the chunk of wood and your underwhelming progress, and swiftly figured out what was causing his girl such distress.

You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment “Well, not everyone is a big hunk of muscle like you, my Keeper.”

Gally tried to control the blush he instantly knew was about to paint his cheeks. ‘My Keeper’. You’ve been calling him that often since you two became a couple, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely love it. It almost always distracted him from whatever he was doing or talking about, but he didn’t mind. He definitely didn’t want you to stop.

Nonetheless, he kept his composure and cleared his throat, grinning down at you “You flatter me, baby. But you’re not wrong.”

You released a light-hearted laugh as he quickly scooted behind you. “Here, let me help.”

You felt a familiar warmth spreading through your body and circling your abdomen as Gally reached around you, his powerful torso nearly pressing against your back, his calloused hand enclosing around your smaller fingers on the handle, in order to guide your movements. Your pulse was already beginning to quicken, your face gradually getting hotter, as you struggled to ignore the effect his closeness was having on you.

“T-Thanks...”

Gally pressed a sweet peck to your cheek as he tightened his grip “Mm-hm. Now, shoulder up...” He instructed, softly, his breath slightly tickling your ear. You did as told. “Yep, just like that. Now lock your elbow. Your arm’s a little wobbly - that’s why it’s taking so much out of you.” Again, you did as he said, doing your earnest to focus on the task at hand, and not on your boyfriend’s low, breathy voice in your ear, or the heat of his strong body, or the way his arms felt around you...

“Like that?” You inquired, timidly, glancing up at his freckled face.

“Exactly. Now, drag it back and forth, and don’t squeeze the handle too hard - you’re just wasting energy that way.”

You took a deep breath and proceeded sawing through the wood, with Gally’s help, as he kept a firm grip on your hand. To your surprise and relief, it really did feel a lot easier, now that you were no longer straining your muscles in all the wrong ways, and in a matter of minutes, the sawed-off piece fell to the ground with a soundly “thump”.

You let out a victorious laugh, causing Gally to chuckle at your reaction. He thought it was entirely too cute.

“Finally! I did it!” You beamed at your boyfriend as he pried the handle out of your hand, placing the saw on the work table before interlacing his fingers with your own.

“You sure did. Next time, if you’re struggling with something, just come get me, okay? There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.” He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, blissfully, giving him a short nod of agreement. “Fine, fine, if you insist...” You mumbled, the urge to kiss him coating your senses and pulling you closer into him. You didn’t fight it. Standing up on your tippy-toes, your linked your arms around his neck and leaned in, pressing your soft lips against his, your ears basking in Gally’s deep hum of satisfaction. His hands wasted no time gripping your waist as he kissed you deeper, his lips moving so seamlessly and tantalizingly against your own, your mind beginning to swim at the sensation.

Despite not wanting to break the kiss, the distant sounds of other gladers working and chattering forced you to stay aware of your surroundings as you reluctantly pulled away from Gally’s lips with a sweet final peck. The builder grinned, giving your waist a languid squeeze before delivering you a wink that almost made your knees buckle.

“As much as it kills me, I gotta get back to work, baby.” He feigned a sneer as you chuckled, nodding in compliance and unwinding your arms from around his neck. You stepped back, already missing his closeness and warmth.

“Same here. Meet you at dinner?”

“You’d better!” Gally smiled, genuinely, before turning on his heels and departing to his task of fixing the Med Hut’s leaky roof.

-later that day-

“Alright, boys, let’s wrap this up. We’ll get back to it first thing tomorrow.” Gally clapped a couple of his builders on their backs - his way of letting them know they had done a good job without actually having to say it. He wasn’t big on dishing out praise and compliments, unless it came to you.

“Whatever you say, boss!” Scott, one of his most capable builders, quipped as he climbed down from the roof, fist-bumping a couple of his friends while they stretched their sore muscles.

Gally huffed to himself before going to pick up his instruments, his tall form disappearing from the guys’ line of vision.

As soon as the Keeper appeared to be gone, Scott’s expression promptly melted from cool to sour, a hint of spite flashing through his eyes.

“Looks like someone’s in a hurry to get back to his girlfriend.” He deliberately over enunciated the last word, frowning, as if just the thought of it was too ridiculous to occur.

Another builder, Jack, cocked a questioning brow at his friend “Oh? Jealous much?”

Scott rolled his eyes in response “I just don’t get it! How did that even happen? Why him? She had like forty shanks to choose from, and she went for him?”

Jack had to snicker at the guy’s plain and obvious jealousy, the sight of it being thoroughly entertaining. “Hey, easy, man! Clearly she sees something we can’t. She’s made her choice - deal with it.”

“Yeah, but did she have to pick the ugliest one? I mean, honestly, if it were someone like Minho, or Ben, or hell, even Newt, I’d sort of get it, but...”

Gally scoffed, bitterly, rejecting the idea of listening to the rest of that lovely conversation. Did they really think he couldn’t hear them? He’s only been a few feet away this whole time, for shuck’s sake. His features darkened, his hands clenching into fists. He knew it was stupid to let something like that get to him - obviously it was nothing more than jealous ramblings of some dumb shank, who would most likely wet himself if he knew Gally had heard him.

Still, as much as he despised to admit it... It stung, hearing that. Mostly because, deep down, some obnoxiously self-deprecating part of him, agreed with Scott’s words.

Gally had never really given much thought to his looks. That is, until you came along. As his feelings for you grew, so did his insecurity. He knew he wasn’t conventionally “hot”. True, he was one of the tallest guys in the glade, and he assumed he had a nice body, thanks to his job as a builder, so he at least had that going for him. His face, however... Gally didn’t believe it was anything to be considered “handsome”. As opposed to you, who he thought was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

He hated this, hated feeling like he didn’t deserve you, hated knowing that you could probably do so much better than him, especially when you weren’t there to reassure him, to tell him otherwise and kiss away his every troubled thought.

Gally growled, internally, his jaw tensing and his knuckles turning white. No, he needed to snap out of it. What the hell? You wanted him. You chose him, you were with him, you were his. He couldn’t let his faith in your devotion to him crumble, just because some dumbass had opened his big resentful mouth.

With an exasperated grunt, Gally stalked off to meet you for dinner, as promised. He was sure that as soon he saw your face, he would forget all about what had just happened. He hoped gazing into your glimmering eyes would be enough to hush every last unwelcome thought. Yet, as hopeful as he was for that, the tension in his broad shoulders remained, as if something heavy was weighing down on him, with very little he could do about it.

-later-

Something deep within you was telling you something wasn’t right. You felt a nagging sting of worry pinching at your heart as you made your way back to Gally’s hut, that you and him now shared.

You couldn’t help but sense that Gally had seemed a bit... off, all throughout dinner. The soft smiles he’d sent your way didn’t reach his eyes. His usually bright bluish-green eyes had been tinged with an underlying bleakness, and you had no clue where it was coming from. You’d tried to ask him about it, but the only response you got was a mumbled “It’s nothing” and a hurried kiss on your cheek.

You didn’t like it. You knew Gally so well by now - you could tell when something was bothering him. You cared about him, deeply, and so, seeing him so obviously anxious about something and not telling you what it was, put you in a bothered state as well.

Whatever it was, you needed to get it out of him. Gally was your boyfriend, and a pretty amazing one at that. If there was anything at all that you could do to help him deal with what was plaguing mind, you would do it, over and over again, if you had to.

You pushed the door open and entered the hut, a loving smile curling your lips as your eyes fell upon Gally. The builder was sitting on the bed, busily scribbling something in his journal, his knit brows and slightly clenched jaw painting his face with a look of pure concentration. Probably sketching in some alterations for the Med Hut expansion. You released a muted giggle, thinking his expression was entirely cute.

Gally immediately looked up at the sound that escaped you, his smile reflecting your own, his deeply focused gaze softening the second it landed on you “Almost bed time, huh?”

“Yes, indeed.” You delivered a little grin as you shut the door behind you and approached him, your delicate hands landing on his shoulders with a pleasant squeeze “And you’re still not done working?” You eyed the journal in Gally’s hands.

He responded with a scratchy chuckle “Perks of being a keeper, baby - I’m never done.” He feigned a deep sigh that made you giggle once more, but nonetheless, placed the journal aside, wanting to give you his full attention.

The only instances where you two got to be truly alone with one another were early in the morning and right before bed, so Gally cherished these moments with you. He would spend every second of every day alone with you if he could, but for the time being, he’d take what ever little scraps of time he could get.

“Well, I’m here now, so... Maybe you’re done, after all?” You smiled, your hands kneading his shoulders in a relaxing manner, feeling his firm muscles slowly release built-up tension under your touch.

Gally grunted, deep in his throat, as his own hands took a hold of your waist, pulling you closer in a not-so subtle motion.

“I sure as hell am, now...” The deep, slightly raspy tone of his voice made you weak in ways you hadn’t imagined before, but you were far from complaining.

With a playful smirk, Gally suddenly fell back on the bed, and you yelped in surprise as with one simple, yet effective tug, he brought you down with, causing you to topple onto him.

“Gally!” You attempted to scold, lightly slapping his chest, but the laughter bubbling from within you, as well as the rising pink hue to your cheeks, let him know how you truly felt about it.

“Aww! Sorry, is this too much?” He asked, almost rhetorically, a cheeky glint dancing in his eyes.

The blush adorning your cheeks only grew as you gazed down at him in pure fascination. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe Gally was yours, that you got to see the side of him everyone else was blind to. You shook your head, leaning down to plant an amorous kiss on his plump lips, as he took no time melting into it with a low-pitched hum. His large hands, warm and eager, gripped your waist tighter as he shifted you both up the bed, until the back of his head almost knocked against the makeshift wooden frame. You whimpered, softly, against his mouth before breaking the kiss. You witnessed, with a tinge on satisfaction, that his freckle-littered cheeks were now even redder than your own, his breath escaping through his parted lips as he stared at you like you were something out of this world.

Gally felt like he could never get enough of you. Your closeness had his heart nearly beating out of his chest, and the intoxicating sensation of your lips on his sent him reeling with more need than he knew what to do with. However, as he gazed at you, taking in every detail of your breathtaking features, his mind involuntarily called back to his inner turmoil, a couple hours prior. The spark in his eyes dulled, the corner of his lips twitching with a barely-noticeable frown as he was pulled back into that loathsome state of self-doubt he’d tried so hard to fight against.

The rapid change in his expression, as minimal as it was, did not evade your notice. In a blink of an eye, your dream-like state morphed to concern as you reached up a hand to cup his warm cheek “Hey... Gally, what’s wrong?”

He huffed a light puff of air, tilting his head to nuzzle his face into your cupped hand, the small gesture nearly making you swoon.

“It’s nothing. Stupid. Don’t worry about it, baby.” Gally mumbled, the response identical to the one you’d received at dinner.

Well, that wasn’t going to be good enough this time. You frowned in sympathy “Yeah, that’s what you said earlier, too. I didn’t believe it then, and I don’t believe it now.”

Gally relinquished a hushed groan, evidently reluctant to share what was on his mind, but all you wanted was for him to know that there was nothing in the world he couldn’t talk to you about. You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the exasperated crease on his forehead, momentarily feeling it smoothen out under your lips.

“Come on... please? I can’t go to sleep if I know something’s bothering you.”

Gally sighed, deeply, his intent gaze meeting your own, and once again you were met with the somber pool of dejection that you had been so quick to spot.

To say he was hesitant to discuss it would be an understatement, but the plea in your gaze and soft voice was impossible for him to ignore. There probably wasn’t a single thing you couldn’t get out of him.

With a defeated grunt, Gally reached a hand up to carefully thread his calloused fingers through your silky hair, his voice dipping an octave lower as he finally spoke “Sometimes it just doesn’t feel like I’m good enough for you, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched at the mere sound of those words leaving his mouth. You felt a ferocious urge to stop him right then and there, yet... you didn’t. No, you couldn’t interrupt. You asked for this, for his honesty, so now he was giving you exactly that. You had to let him finish.

“I mean... You could’ve had anyone. Absolutely shuckin’ anyone, but for a reason I still don’t fully understand, you’ve picked me.” Gally bit the inside of his cheek, his rough fingertips turning cold as he let the words fall from his mouth. “I know what people are thinking. ‘What the hell is an amazing, sweet, funny, beautiful girl like you, doing with one of the ugliest shanks here?’. And you know what? I hate it, but they’re not wrong.”

Every sentence shot an icy pain through your heart as you had to bite your bottom lip to physically restrain yourself from shutting him up. You couldn’t stand that Gally was so critical of himself, especially when you saw him as the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

“And please don’t take this the wrong way - I’m not doubting your... feelings for me, and I’m so lucky that they’re even there, it’s just...” He trailed off, briefly, wanting to choose his next words carefully. “It’s a bit of a struggle to understand. Because you deserve the best, and I’m... well, hardly that.”

A short pause. Finally, it sounded like he was finished, and now it was your time to let him know precisely how you felt about all of it.

With a preparatory intake of air, you cupped his face in both hands, making him look nowhere else but at you, your eyes shining with determined empathy. “Gally... I chose you, because it’s always been you. Forty shanks here, and not one of them ever made me feel even a fraction of what you make me feel. I can’t explain why, because it’s not something that has an explanation - I don’t have an alphabetised list of reasons why I fell for you! I just... did. Because of who you are - that’s everything about you. And I don’t know who you’re calling ‘ugly’, because it sure as hell isn’t my boyfriend.” You paused, watching his eyes as he stared at you, mesmerized, without blinking, his mouth falling slightly agape as you could practically hear his heartbeat drumming in his chest. “So... Yeah, I can confidently say, without question, that I’m pretty happy with what I chose.”

After a few seconds of wired silence, Gally finally broke out of his entranced stupor, his voice nearly quivering as he traced a finger down the soft curve of your jaw.

“And what is it, that you chose?”

His touch made the loving warmth within you spread like wildfire, soothing your throbbing heart and coaxing a delicate grin to etch your lips “The best.”

At that, Gally released a short, incredulous huff, but couldn’t find it in himself to question it any further. You were truly a gift to him, a gift he had no idea what he’d done to deserve. In that moment, all the worries he’d had were effectively silenced, pushed away into the farthest, deepest crevices of his mind, not to be heard from again in a long time, if ever. Not a minute more would be wasted caring about anyone else’s opinion on your relationship with him. The only one that mattered was yours, and that’s the one he would hold into, for as long as you’d allow it. For as long as you’d want him.

Gally’s muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into him, tightly and protectively, as he buried his face in your hair, trying to get you as close as humanly possible, and still feeling like it wasn’t enough.

You responded by nuzzling into the warm crook of his neck, your lips pressing the gentlest of kisses to his sun-kissed skin, the heat of his strong chest soaking into you and shrouding you in an impenetrable sense of comfort and love. His love. The type nothing else could compare to or dare to challenge.

“You know, the day you change your mind will definitely be the most devastating of my life...” Gally whispered, almost inaudibly, the consuming safety of his embrace clouding your senses.

All you could do was breathe a soft chuckle, holding onto him tighter as your lips murmured against his neck “I guess it’s a good thing that day isn’t coming.”

Because in your mind, with all the uncertainties and uneasiness that surrounded the glade, that was the one thing you didn’t have a single doubt about. It was him. Gally. And there was no one better.

Thank you for reading!

Tags: @seldomabsent @obsessivelycapricious @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @lattsgocaps @magnoliabloomfield @sherbertscarrothead-2 @the-marvel-meme-emporium @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

OK so I got this idea. S/o (who's this time has to be female) is also an octo mermaid but still from another world. So s/o gets into one of the pools and they discover she's a blanket octopus (if you haven't seen a female blanket octopus they're one of the most beautiful octopus out there with their gradient colors) and they get popular af like everyone is like "wow she's such a beautiful meroctopus" Yada yada. And Azul it's mad. Part 1

Part 2. And both Jade and Floyd notice it and decide to tell s/o who is shocked and sad because they have a HUGE crush so they decided to give him a gift. Since they know he doesn't have a octopus pot they decide to make him one. After months they give it to him and confess and he's shocked and ask for their forgiveness as it isn't their fault. At the end he and s/o cuddle inside of the octo pot in their mer forms.

OMG THIS TOOK ME FOREVER!!!! I probably got this ask before thanksgiving so I am very sorry that it took me this long, HOWEVER, it is the longest oneshot I have ever written so that’s quite an accomplishment. There are photo references that go with this story as well so check those out before you read. 

Warnings: Slight language, insecurities, fluff, very very minor angst, fem!s/o

Word count: 4,710

Azul x Reader: Cuddle Pot

The above images are references for the s/o’s octopus species and the octopus pot. I don’t know who the original artist is for the second so if you know please let me know so I can give credit where due.

   “Wait seriously? You’re a mermaid!” Ace practically shrieks and you giggle. Placing a finger to your lips, you shush him as Deuce slaps the back of your over energetic friend’s head. 

   “Yes. I am a mermaid, but you can’t tell anyone yet.”

   “Why not?” Jack questions. His tail flicks in confusion.

   You sigh and think back to the last time anyone found out about your true form. Most of the people back in your world found merpeople to be odd and cursed. It was considered a disability and a disease. Human society often shunned what they didn’t understand. And that lack of understanding led to fear. 

   A boy in your old school had been your middle school sweetheart for approximately 7 months before you decided to tell him your secret. He had seemed so eager to finally go swimming with you that you had naively believed that it was all going to be fine. However when he stared at your flowey, shimmering form you felt yourself grow worried that he would no longer like you. 

   “Babe,” you started, leaning closer to try and grasp his face with your smooth, webbed fingers. “It’s alright. It’s just my merform. It’s going to-” He quickly slapped your hand away and stumbled back. 

   “F-freak, monster, disgusting. Stay away from me you animal! We’re over you deceiving B*tch!” He quickly ran away from the side of the lake where you had brought him. As dawns lovely lights sprayed your body with pinks, and soft oranges, tears slid down your cheeks and into the water below. He hated you. Oh what a fool you had been to think that he would be different, that he would love you anyway. 

   School had become increasingly difficult after that. Word spread fast and you were quickly isolated by everyone you had called a friend. Eventually you moved to a new place and decided that you would never love again.

   This wasn’t the case however in Twisted Wonderland. You were so pleasantly surprised to find people like you, and they weren’t considered freaks because of it. It had been a shock and you quickly found yourself yearning to tell others about what you truly were. Fear had you back though. At least up until that point.

   “I had a bad experience with someone I cared about back in my home world.” You stated softly. The boys looked at each other and smiled. 

   “Well this isn’t that world. You're good to go here since I can’t imagine anyone judging you for what you look like in this place.” Ace’s words reassured you.

   “He’s right. At NRC it’s highly unlikely that you’ll be bullied because of something like this. But what are you anyway?” Deuce questioned. 

   You giggled and leaned in closer to the 4 people sitting at the lunch table, (5 if you included Grimm, but he already knew). “I’m an octopus.” You said with excitement and slight nervousness.

   “Really? That sounds so cool!” Epel was quiet but excited when he spoke up for the first time since the conversation started. You smiled to yourself and mentally sighed in relief that the people you had next trusted with your secret didn’t view you any differently. 

   “Wait hold the phone. Octopus? Like Azul?” Ace pressed close enough that you could reach across with a napkin and wipe the side of his cheek that had been smeared with BBQ sauce when he scarfed his lunch.

  “Yes and no, Azul is a Common Octopus, which means that he is the standard octopus you mostly see around the ocean or in pictures. Basically what you imagine when someone says Octopus. I’m a different type of octopus, one that is more rare.” You pulled out your phone while talking to bring up an image. You held the phone so everyone at the table could see.

   “This is a female Blanket Octopus. We’re pretty rare but we are also one of the most beautiful kinds.” 

   Everyone went wide eyed and watched the screen as you scrolled through images of your fellow eight legged friends. Epel turned to you and grabbed your shoulder. 

   “You absolutely have to show us your merform.” Ace, Deuce, and Jack all nodded in agreement. You flushed and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. 

   “I don’t know guys. It would be a hassle to find a place where we could do it and I’m not sure I want anyone else seeing me. What if someone shows up and freaks out?” This time it was Jack’s turn to speak when he leaned back before smiling slightly.

   “Not that I care but I personally would show up to support you if you needed it. Besides, the school pool is closed after dark. However I’m pretty sure Ruggie has snatched a copy of every key to every lock in the building.”

   “Of course he has.” Deuce says rolling his eyes. “That hyena couldn’t keep his paws to himself even if his life depended on it.” You giggled but ignored the comment in favor of asking Jack if he could get the key. The wolf nodded and you told everyone to meet you by the pool at 9:30. Your friends nodded in agreement just as the bell rang.

----------

   The air was humid and warm, it was perfect for a late night swim, although your clothes would likely stick to your body when you changed back. Still you shifted uncomfortably at the idea of getting in the water with what you are wearing. A pair of leggings was slipped on underneath a waterproof skirt. You had a jacket over your bikini top but per usual you were unable to wear bottoms unless you wanted them to tear. You would have to be very careful not to let the skirt go up before you shifted.

   A sigh left your lips and Grimm, sensing your nervousness, rubbed up against your leg in silent comfort. Your friends were unlikely to freak out but it was still nerve wracking to think about exposing your true form to other non-merpeople. Hundreds of scenarios where something went wrong filtered through your head and promised that your anxiety wouldn’t leave anytime soon. 

  “BOO!” Half a shriek pierced the night before a hand clasped over your mouth.  

   “Shishishishishi.” You turned around in surprise and pulled the fingers away from your face.

   “Ruggie! What are you doing here?” You whisper shouted. The hyena snickered again and held up one finger. He made a circular motion and a key ring twirled around in response. 

   “Jack said you needed to get in here. Thought I’d tag along.” The smirk on his face irritated you but you couldn’t be surprised. You should have known that having Jack of all people ask for keys to break into the pool after hours was going to raise some eyebrows. Honestly you should have just asked him to invite Ruggie along anyways. Key or no key the hyena was likely to want to know what was going on. 

   “Alright fine, but if you tell anyone what you saw here today, and I mean anyone, then I will hide your piggy bank from you.” Ruggie’s eyes went wide before they narrowed.

   “You have my word.” You smiled knowing that you had convinced him to keep your secret despite the fact that if he really had told someone you wouldn’t have actually done more than try and punch him. Of all people you knew how precious money was in this world, considering the fact that you had none.

   Footsteps alerted you to the approaching presence of your other friends. You turn

around and find Jack, Epel, Ace and Deuce walking over to you. They wave and Jack frowns when he spots Ruggie.

   “What are you doing here? I thought you already gave me the key.” The hyena snickers and points towards the key Jack was holding. 

   “I gave you the one to the janitors closet, which I’m gonna need back by the way. I wanted to see what was going on for myself so I hung out here till Y/n came over, and then I figured it had to be interesting if she was involved. I didn’t know there was gonna be a crowd though.” He looked at you, “This must be one hell of a surprise if you got all the first years here.”

   Deuce pointed out that Sebek was a first year as well but the hyena shrugged it off saying “he doesn’t count as a student since he’s basically just a guard.” You figured that was Leona’s opinion and Ruggie agreed.

   “Guys it’s already late and I don’t wanna get caught so let's go in already.” Everyone nodded and Ruggie opened the gate. 

   Carefully you unzipped your jacket as you walked over to the bench. The water appeared calm and undisturbed, allowing a clear view of the illuminated bottom which was surprisingly clean considering teenage boys flung about in the water all day.

   You sighed and shrugged the jacket off before stepping out of your shoes. Setting down the bag with your extra clothes you mentally prepared yourself for what was about to happen. 

   Ruggie leaned closer to Jack and whispered something you didn’t catch but Jack’s response of “You’ll see.” was enough to tell you what had happened. Pushing your anxiety out of the way you lowered yourself into the pool, sighing as the cool water licked your skin. Giving yourself a moment to relax you let your worries leak into the water around you. You had always felt better in the water. It’s a merfolk thing.

   “Are you guys positive you won’t freak out?” You called to the edge of the pool where your friends were standing. 

   “Not unless you grow 10 heads.” Ace sniggered until Epel elbowed him. You rolled your eyes and looked suspiciously over to Ruggie who still had no idea what was going on. 

   “No promises.” You sighed, but smiled when Jack nodded at you, signaling that it would be alright. Who were you kidding Ruggie was a hyena man who grew up in the slums. What did he care? Feelings of worry taken care of, you sunk deeper into the water and closed your eyes.

   The feeling that comes with shifting is always a little strange. It’s almost like your skin has been turned to putty and it is remolding itself and when it reaches the desired outcome it snaps back into place and holds like it has been that way the whole time. 

   Once you felt the transformation had completed you righted yourself in the water and peeked an eye open to look at your friends. Ace and Epel had their mouths wide open in a gasp. One that quickly turned into a smile. Jack looked as though he had just witnessed a miracle and Deuce was still in shock. Ruggie’s reaction was by far the most extravagant. His eyes were wide and his mouth was curved into a questioning gape. He had taken several steps back and his ears lay flat on his head. Behind him his tail bristled and stood fairly straight, pushing up the too large shirt. 

   You bit your lip and examined their faces trying to come up with a conclusion to what they were feeling. 

   “That… Is so cool!” Ace blurted out excitedly and ran over to the pool's edge to get a closer look. Deuce and Epel followed him and Jack trotted over as well, but not before snorting at Ruggie. The hyena man looked your form up and down and took in the swirling shades of color that decorated your now sea creature bottom half. He made a small noise before shaking himself and casually patting down the fur on his tail, which was still tense but not as much. 

   “Ok, of all the things I’ve seen. That, I was not expecting.” You giggled at Ruggie’s flustered reaction and felt yourself relax now that you knew pitchforks and torches weren’t coming out. 

   The hyena moved closer to the pool and joined your other friends who were staring at you in awe. You blushed uncontrollably as you felt their gazes roam your colorful body. Decorative markings that spread up to your collarbone changed to a darker shade with your blush.

   “So like can I touch you?” Deuce smacks his hand against Ace’s chest and gives him this look that says “dude you can’t just say that''. You giggle and glide closer to them before lifting your arm which was for the most part pretty human, but had a lavender shade to it and a long silky strip of webbing that shimmered as it moved. The longest tentacle on your body rose out of the water as well and you shivered as the webbing stuck together in an uncomfortable manner. 

   Ace leaned forwards and stroked your arm and tentacle. His eyes were filled with curiosity and wonder. Deuce looked a little more unsure but Epel had no problem reaching out and gently caressing your webbing. Ruggie joined him and Deuce eventually stuck his hand out to stroke your arm, but Jack held back and decided that ultimately he only wanted to look.

   “Wow! This stuff is so soft!” Epel said excitedly. He was generally pretty quiet so you were glad he was comfortable enough to speak out. 

   “It’s so colorful. If we had silks this pretty in the savannah then we’d have lots of money. Say, where could I find more of your kind.” Ruggie’s smirk told you that he was just joking but you glared at him anyways and flicked water his way. 

   The hyena flinched and shook his head before laying his ears back and moving away from the water. Jack and Ace laughed at the antics before Ruggie growled playfully and distracted them from what had happened moments before. 

   It was then that Ace leaned a bit too far forwards and fell straight into the pool. You jumped and swung your tentacles back, instinctively spreading them out to make yourself look bigger. 

   You willed your body to relax as you recovered from the little panic attack and laughed when Ace’s head bobbed to the surface. He sputtered and swam over to the edge and climbed out of the pool. He lay on the concrete and breathed heavily while the boys around him cackled. Ace glared and stood up. 

   “You jerks I’ll show you how you like it.” Deuce shrieked as Ace shoved him into the water. You laughed with everyone else as Deuce came up for air. Sensing a sudden threat of being pushed into the water Ruggie backed up against the gate and watched as Jack pushed Epel in before diving in himself. The five of you giggled and splashed as Ruggie snickered at your antics. 

   You were so glad your new friends didn’t mind your merform. Even better, they really liked it. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders as you dived down to swim with your friends. As the five of you splashed and played with Ruggie distracted with your antics, none of you noticed a dark form smirk in the bushes. Nor the click of the camera that he had with him.

----------

   The next day was a nightmare. Apparently someone had spied on you and your friends and photographed you in your merform. People swarmed you asking you all sorts of questions. It was difficult to just get through the halls. Luckily none of the people who stopped and talked to you had anything unkind to say and the stares you received were more curious than malicious but it was still an uncomfortable situation to be in.

   For the most part people who knew you were pretty considerate about your space and privacy. Cater seemed absolutely thrilled to know that you were an octopus but only asked if you were alright with everything going on, instead of bombarding you with questions. 

   Kalim was a little more enthusiastic about the whole situation. Jamil ended up apologizing for him and pulling him away. Vil and Rook subtly commented on your merforms beauty before moving on. Diasomnia rarely came near you but Lilia gave you a sympathetic smile. Trey offered you a few baked sweets as he sensed that you were overwhelmed and as for everyone else you had yet to see them.

   The person you were most worried about seeing though was Azul. He was an octopus merman like you, yet you had never seen his merform. Unless you counted his overblot the only time you had seen him in full shift was in the picture you had borrowed from the museum. 

   He and the Leech twins will probably have an absolute field day over the fact that you’re also a mertype. You worried what Azul was going to think of you hiding it. Over the past few months you had developed a crush on him. You had a plan to confess and everything, but now that the secret was out you were worried that he wasn’t going to like you for keeping it from him. In truth you planned on telling him first, but figured there was no harm in letting your other friends know. Turns out there was and the whole school knew.

   Trapped in your thoughts, you failed to notice the two approaching twins and bumped into them as you turned around a corner.

   “Hiii~ Shrimpy-chan~!” Floyd’s ever changing mood seemed to pleasant as he greeted you with a smile and not a squeeze. 

   “Hello, Y/n. How are you today?” Jade's gentleman persona greeted you but failed to hide the questions and mischief in his eyes. 

   “Just say it already. I know you two already know.” You sighed and watched their faces light up with excitement. Floyd grabbed your arm and took off, dragging you behind him. “Wait!” Soon the three of you arrived at an empty classroom which you were promptly shoved in before the tweels followed, shutting the door behind them.

   “Y/n, my apologies for Floyd’s exuberant behavior, but we have been meaning to speak with you in private since the most recent exposure of your true nature.” Jade was calm and collected as always when he spoke and gently fixed your crumpled uniform which had been shifted while running. 

   “Shrimpy-chan! We have something to tell you!~” Floyd sing-songed before sitting on a desk.

   “What? Wait what is it? And where’s Azul? Wouldn’t he want to speak with me too? If this is about a deal the answer is no.” You folded your arms in front of you and put distance between yourself and the seemingly respectful brother. The twins looked at eachother and you caught a glimpse of something passing through their eyes before Floyd pouted.

   “Aww, what’s wrong with making deals with us? We promise to be real nice this time and not leave you homeless. You could stay with us at Octavinelle!” You rolled your eyes as Floyd giggled and swung his long legs despite the fact that they could easily reach the floor from his seat. 

   “The truth is, Azul is jealous.”

   “What!” You turned and exclaimed at Jade’s statement. The tall mage nodded and continued with a strange look on his face like he wasn’t bothered by this at all. 

   “You are far more beautiful than him in your merform and he is bothered by it. Everyone has always shunned him for his octopus body and now you present yourself as one and everyone goes wild with excitement over your gorgeousness. Something he believes to never have possessed.” 

   You were stunned. Azul was jealous of you. He was upset because you were more beautiful than him. No. You wanted him to love you, not be bothered by you. Why hadn’t you thought of Azul’s insecurities. He just wanted to be an attractive merman and here you were, the same mertype as him and you were advertising your beauty to the world where he had to hide his away due to the fact that he was insecure. 

   Not bothering to say a word you quickly left the room and raced down the hall. You needed to fix this as soon as possible. Otherwise Azul might not like you ever again. Two pairs of mismatched eyes watched your retreat and shone with anticipation. 

   “How long do you think it will take?”

   “Not long Floyd. Luckily she was already prepared before we released the picture.”

----------

   Azul was so over this whole thing. He had rewatched the video and looked at the pictures about 20 times. You were so gorgeous and graceful in your merform; it just made him frustrated that he couldn have been admired for his tentacles. They were simple and slimy so most people hated them yet you were swathed in colorful silks that attracted every creature in the ocean. While most would swim by him or threaten to eat him, any sea animal that came across you would be hypnotised by your beauty. 

   The worst thing about you being an octopus is that it gave him one more reason to tell himself that you will never love him. He was so drab and you were well amazing. Of all the creatures in the sea you had to be a blanket octopus. If you had been a simple mermaid or even better a common octopus like him then surely he would have a chance with you at least. 

   A sudden knock on the door startled the mage and he stood quickly to make sure he looked alright before answering the door. You stood anxiously as he opened the door and grabbed his wrist before he had the chance to shut it. Surprisingly, Azul offered no resistance as you dragged him to the entrance of the aquarium. 

   Octavinelle’s aquarium had two sections, one was for regular fish and the other sea creatures that were on display from the mostro lounge. The other was for the residents. Any and all merfolk could use the aquarium if they felt homesick or separated from their true forms. This was where you chose to place the gift you had made. 

   Coming to a stop you turned and looked at Azul. He looked confused and excited at the same time. You took this as a good sign. 

   “Azul. Will you swim with me?” The merman’s eyes widened and he stood there processing your request for nearly a minute before responding.

   “Sure.”

   Giddy with glee you quickly leapt into the water and shed your clothes before transforming. Rising to the surface you looked up at him from just underneath the surface and he peered back at you.

   Strange. He thought for sure he would feel angry again when he saw you but the darling flush on your face and how you were genuinely happy to swim with him gave him another feeling all together. It bubbled inside of him and made him blush as he slowly lowered himself into the cool water beside you. 

   It had been a while since Azul had consciously shifted so he was a bit worried that he would do it too fast or slow and something would go wrong. Fortunately he was able to shift without incident. Once shifted he suddenly felt very self conscious. As a common octopus he was far more simple and plain compared to your swirling and colorful body. 

   You didn’t seem to mind however as you twirled and circled around Azul excitedly.

   “Come on I have something to show you.” Azul frowned in confusion but followed you regardless. You led him to a sort of grove area that he had never seen before. It was very well hidden but gorgeous as well. 

   You looked back at him excitedly and pushed through the sea vines to an open area where a ray of sunlight fell across and illuminated the gift you had spent months on. Azul’s jaw dropped when he laid eyes on the octopus pot that sat in the middle of the small room. 

   The base was grey and made of some type of stone. Around it sat lavender pillars and corals that surrounded the base except for the entrance. The round opening was smoothed and carved in a delicate design that resembled sea coral. Behind it sat a dark velvet cloth that was tied back with a golden rope.Azul assumed that was to block the entrance or allow for privacy. 

   The inside was decorated with lavish pillows in all sorts of cool shades. They were illuminated by a small yet classy lamp that hung off to the side. The outside of the pot was for the most part smooth and grey with a few purple undertones, but off to one side there sat a carving that resembled the waves and water foam, on top off which held a large pearl that glinted in the sunlight. On the other side a darker grey octopus clung to the top portion of the pot and spread its tentacles out in an elegant manner. Azul took note that the few that rose off the pot appeared to be for hanging things and one looked suspiciously like it was meant to support a staff. 

   You floated in place for what felt like hours as you waited for Azul to react. You reminded yourself to stay patient as he might not respond to it immediately. When he finally did react he did so without words. He simply pointed to himself and raised his eyebrows. You nodded excitedly before bowing your head bashfully. 

   “I’m so sorry that I upset you Azul. I never meant for it to get out in the first place. I was actually planning on telling you first and then giving this octopus pot to you since I know you don’t have one. Then things got messed up and everything and I’m so sorry. I think you’re beautiful in your merform and I hope you’ll accept my apology.” Your face burned when you spoke and you swished your tentacles nervously.

   “What?” You looked up when Azul spoke and saw confusion on his face. “I’m not upset at you. It’s not your fault you’re beautiful. Besides I could never be upset at you, octopus or not. I was distraught because I thought you were so amazing and I’m so plain and that there was no chance that you’d like me back.” You gasped and watched as his face slowly turned pink. 

   He dove into the pot and curled up, mentally berating himself for letting that slip. Shocked you glided over to the entrance of the pot and leaned your head in.

   “Azul. Do you mean that? Do you really like me?” He didn’t respond, you took a deep breath and admitted your own feelings. “Well I like you so…” His head snapped up and he let his expression grow into an ecstatic smile before coughing into his fist and composing himself.

   “Well in that case, do you want to come in and lay with me?” Azul ignored the fact that his face felt like it was on fire and waited as you giggled and moved in beside him. 

   “I’d love to. What do you think of the pot?” The merman smiled gently at you and spoke as he curled his tentacles around you and yours, him. 

   “It’s exquisite. I couldn’t love it more. Where did you get it?” 

   “I made it.” You muttered and flushed at the surprised and impressed look on his face. He shifted closer to you and gripped your hand with his. 

   “You did an excellent job. Thank you.” Your fingers intertwined with his and you pressed your forehead against his. 

   “I love you Azul.” You mumbled sleepily.

   “I love you Y/n.” He spoke before shutting his eyes and enjoying the warmth that spread through the pot. You’re silky webbing fell across the two of you like a blanket and after a stressful morning Azul allowed himself to slip into a comfortable sleep.

----------

   Two pairs of heterochromatic eyes watched the two octopus merpeople sleep soundly inside the pot and smirked with wicked teeth. 

   “How did you know she was an octopus as well?”

   “Floyd, surely you must have noticed. They both smell like takoyaki.” The eels laughed and quietly zipped away, leaving the octopus pot behind.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Learning to Swim

Request: (whenever you have time of course.) What about a post-war draco malfoy x reader where after astoria dies draco and scorpius are left alone for a couple years then he sees y/n a friend from Hogwarts and they fall in love again (you can decide how). this is my vision and I'm a sucker for post-war fics with draco. 🥺💕 - @obx-beach

A/N: I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH. Thank you so much for requesting it and for trusting me with your request! It got away from me but I really wanted to explore this idea in depth because for me, anyway, grief isn't something that disappears over time, but rather, becomes bearable. Please read the warnings before reading, I cover some heavy topics. As always, I hope you like it!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: heavy talk of grief and loss, some swearing, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, mentions of ghosts, a very cheesy ending.

Word count: 11.9k

Draco so rarely finds peace nowadays; a consequence of a confidently walking toddler who’s penchant for curiosity has him grabbing at what he can – the paper, the rug, the dog’s tail.

Draco so rarely find peace nowadays, but once a week, on a Saturday, he drops Scorpius off at his parents. His mother and father doting over the blonde-haired boy who looks more like his mother everyday despite the argument from Narcissa – “He has your nose, Draco!”

On the days he drops his son off at the manor, he apparates to the familiar black gates. They squeak whenever he opens them and no matter how many times he visits, he never remembers to bring the oil he promises to fetch.

Now, he doesn’t look at the names as he makes his way towards the familiar row, hands in his pockets, shoes sinking in the wet grass.

Before, he’d drag his feet. Reading every name he could as he struggled to come to terms with his disbelief and grief.

The granite headstone sits prettily above its plot; the marker for Draco to slow his pace to an amble.

She had died a Malfoy but had been buried in the Greengrass plot.

Draco had known of Astoria Greengrass for years; had been schooled with her sister but had known the family personally for years due to similar social circles, and as a result, social functions. Draco spent ball after ball getting to know the younger Greengrass sister much to the chagrin of Pansy Parkinson who still held a candle for Draco since their fling ended in Fifth Year.

He worked up the nerve to ask Astoria to dinner after a particularly hellish function where his father had pushed him to dance with every available girl that looked his way. For the most part, Draco accepted – wanting to keep his father happy and his mother hopeful. But through every dance, through every twirl on the floor, his eyes would wander back to where Astoria sat very intently focused on the napkin design.

On his third circuit of the dancefloor, Draco broke away from his dance partner earning a glare for his disrespect. He apologised with a smile but turned to the brunette sitting alone; he held his hand to her, and she took it with the grace of a well-raised daughter.

They span around the dancefloor; circle after circle after circle. They laughed, and they smiled, and they settled into a happy silence. One Draco felt so comfortable in that by the time they had finished their second dance together, Draco was certain he wanted to marry her.

By the end of the night, Astoria knew she wanted to marry him.

They were married less than six months after that night.

Three months after they were married, Astoria announced her pregnancy. Rumours started; stating that was the real cause for their quick wedding. But their families knew different; their families spent the entirety of the pregnancy wrapped in a cocoon of worry.

Then blood curse on the Greengrass family meant that Astoria would die at a young age, and Draco had prepared himself for that. Though, in private, he researched what he could to see if he could break the blood curse. This meant, however, the pregnancy was watched closely by Narcissa, by Daphne, and by multiple Healers flooed in from St Mungos.

Nine months later, on an unusually warm day in January, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born. Immediately, Draco knew that though he had his hair, Scorpius had his mother’s eyes and mouth.

Three hours after the birth of her son; as she held him tightly in her arms, watching him with the love only a mother could know, Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass took her last breath.

-----------

The months after her death, Draco barely coped. He woke up in the mornings solely for Scorpius and Scorpius alone. He devoted his time to his son, marking every milestone in his baby scrapbook which on occasion he would take to his wife’s grave and go through it with her. Scorpius never visited the grave; for starters, he was too young, Draco wouldn’t let his son go through that but his son knew that his mother was no longer with them.

But that didn’t stop Scorpius asking for his mother after a nightmare had pulled him from sleep.

Narcissa tried to help; tried everything she could to help with his grief – at one point even suggesting he go see a psychic, but the fear of transference was enough to put Draco off the idea.

He didn’t have the heart to tell his mother that he didn’t need a psychic to tell him Astoria had made it to the other side and that she had found peace.

She haunted him nearly every night.

Flashes of her white night gown in the corner of his eye; glimpses of her beautiful face in the mirror.

His heart would race, and his palms would sweat as the panic set in.

For a long while, he believed himself to be going insane. The sheer grief he felt at the loss of his wife driving him to madness as though he were Heathcliff suffering the loss of his Cathy.

------

Draco had memorised the inscription on her headstone after visiting for a month straight.

He had memorised the path to her grave by the end of the first week; the soil still needing to settle.

His feet knew where the uneven ground would be, so it was all dodged expertly.

Draco has very little to say to Astoria when he kneels in front of her. He updates her on Scorpius; promises that he will bring him soon, but it was still too early for his son to see his mother.

In fact, most of his time at the grave is spent in silence. His knees soaking wet from the morning dew still covering the grass.

“Draco? Is that you?” A chiming voice asks as Draco’s head remains bent over his wife’s grave. He releases a sigh before looking up to see that it’s you – someone he hasn’t seen in years. The last he saw of you; you were stood defiantly facing the hordes of Death Eaters in courtyard at Hogwarts.

“(Y/N)?” He asks.

You frown, pointing towards the grave where his wife lies in perpetual sleep, “I heard, but I didn’t believe. I’m sorry for your loss, Draco.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “Why are you here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You hold the flowers in your hand up in response, “I lost my grandfather less than a year back. I visit every week.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. He was a great man.” Draco murmurs, shame washing over him from his curt tone.

“Thank you,” You murmur quietly, “It’s still hard.”

Draco wants to offer words of comfort; to tell you that pain eases over time, but he would be lying to your face. The pain doesn’t ease, and the grief doesn’t lessen, it simply moves to one side and becomes bearable until something reminds you of the one you’ve lost whether it be a sound or a smell and then the pain washes over you like a tidal wave and you start to wonder whether you’ll come up for air or simply drown.

Draco decides not to say anything; turning back to face the woman he had pledged his life too.

You walk away after a slow nod; you wouldn’t get anything more out of him now.

-----

They say that time heals, that grief lessens, but it doesn’t.

Draco loves his son; he adores his son, but he cannot help but see him as a reminder of what he lost on the day of his birth.

He had gained a son; an heir to carry on the Malfoy name but he had lost the love of his life.

Draco leaves the graveyard soon after his encounter with you; feeling surly with how he had spoken to you.

He searches you before he leaves, but he finds you knelt at the grave of your grandfather with your head bent as the silent sobs rack your body.

He leaves you to your privacy; understanding that right now, intrusion is the last thing needed.

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

Draco sits in the living room of his marital home that night; a tumbler of whisky in his hand as he leans back in the chesterfield armchair gifted to him by his parents as part of their wedding present.

The wedding present being the house.

There are reminders of Astoria all over the house; from the pattern of the curtains to her photos lining the walls. She was everywhere. How was he was supposed to start living his life when his house remained a mausoleum?

He feels the hand on his shoulder; he doesn’t need to turn to see who it is.

“You need to stop doing this, Draco,” She murmurs.

He sighs through his nose, “I don’t see why.”

“You’re hurting everyone around you; you didn’t use to be like this.”

“It’s been a trying time, love.”

“I know it has. For both you and Scorpius, but it’s been three years, darling.”

The air in the room has become cold; too cold. To the point where his breath has started to fog; he takes a sip of the amber liquid to warm his body through.

“I can’t forget you, I won’t. He has no memories of you; he needs me to remember you.”

The voice behind him shakes, “My love, you’ll never forget me. I live on in him.”

Draco doesn’t say anything; the lump in his throat making it impossible for him to speak. The absolute yearning with him has him reaching up to take the hand settled on his shoulder.

The tears start to fall when his hand falls through the ghostly spectre.

-----

Morning comes and Draco wakes in the same chair he had fallen asleep in. He scratches at the stubble lining his face as he stretches his legs, bones popping as he stands to full height.

The clock on the mantle chimes seven times and Draco supposes he should start the day and collect his son from the Manor. He hadn’t been in any state last night to have him at home; it was better for Scorpius to stay with his grandparents.

The light to the bathroom flickers as Draco drags himself into the shower; the hot water and lavender shower gel doing a good job at leeching the tension that had become set into his shoulders.

He wipes the steam from the mirror before lathering his face with shaving cream and beginning the soothing action of shaving. Narcissa preferred him clean shaven anyway; believed that the stubble made him look like a vagrant.

A flash of white in the corner of his eye has Draco freezing with the razor halfway to his cheek.

His hand begins to shake, and he places the razor back in the sink as he braces himself on the counter. He counts to ten before he dares to look back up at himself in the mirror.

He was being haunted.

------

In the years after the Second Wizarding War, Narcissa had taken it upon herself to entirely renovate Malfoy Manor from the dark, dank place it was to make it more of a home for her family. A home in which Draco should have been raised in.

Narcissa greets him at the door with a kiss on the cheek and a concerned look that only a mother could pull off.

“Good Morning Mother, how are we today?”

“I’d be a lot better if you looked better. Did you get any sleep?”

Draco nods, thinking to the few hours in the armchair, “I got some.”

“Not enough by the looks of it, but at least you shaved. Have you eaten yet?”

He shakes his head, “I came straight here.”

“Luckily for you, Scorp is still eating.”

Draco hangs his coat on the grand railing by the door before following his mother through his childhood home.

His son beams at the sight of his father walking through the door, “Dad!” he yells, dropping his piece of fruit and jumping off his chair. He runs to Draco, wrapping his arms around his legs.

Draco chuckles, picking his son up, settling him on his waist, “Hey there squirt, did you have a nice night with granny and grandpa?”

Scorpius nods, still chewing his last piece of breakfast, “Yeah, me and granny baked, and she let me eat the mix!”

Narcissa lets out an overdramatic gasp, “That was our secret, Scorp!”

Scorpius laughs at his granny’s reaction, “I had to tell Dad!”

Draco tickles his son’s stomach; grinning at the laughter leaving his son’s mouth.

He had never known a world with his mother; and he never would, yet here he was as happy as any three year old could be.

“Are you joining us, Draco?” His father’s voice sounds; breaking Draco from his melancholy.

Draco clears his throat, letting Scorpius down so he can sit next to Narcissa at the table, “Yes, I think I will.”

Anything to not go back to the house so soon; anything to avoid seeing her in the corner of his eye or in the mirrors.

Narcissa nails him with a look she has made entirely her own after dealing with a supremacist order for over a decade.

Draco wavers under his mother’s stare; ready to drop the pretence and cry in her arms.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he grabs the bowl of strawberries and scoops a spoonful onto his plate before reaching for a waffle and grabbing his knife and fork.

“Lucius, darling, why don’t you show Scorpius your matchbox collection? I know he’d love them.”

“What are matched boxes?” Scorpius asks.

Narcissa laughs lightly at her grandson’s pronunciation, “Match boxes, sweetheart.”

Lucius stands from the table; knowing very well what the determined look in his wife’s eyes meant, “Come on, my boy. I’ll show you my collection; I want to see if you can count how many there are.”

Scorpius’ eyes light up at the chance to make his grandfather proud; he jumps down from the chair before reaching to grab Lucius’ hand. Together, they leave the dining room, Lucius prattling about the history of the match box and why they needed to be collected.

Narcissa waits until they’re out of earshot before turning on her son who on the outside, almost pulled off looking so put together. Inside, she knew, was a broken man desperate to find a way to lessen the pain.

“It’s been three years, darling.”

“I know,” Draco answers; resisting the urge to groan.

“How often are you visiting her?”

“Once a week now.”

There was a point in the first months after her death where Draco would visit the graveyard every day for hours. He didn’t even say anything; he just sat on the perfectly trimmed grass in front of her grave and sobbed for the life that had been lost and the future that had been robbed.

Narcissa nods, “That’s good, Draco.”

Draco nods; he had gotten better in the years since her passing but Narcissa would never understand what it feels like to lose a spouse a year into a marriage that should have lasted an eternity.

Narcissa sighs, “Do you think it’s time now?”

“Time for what?” He asks; voice hard.

“To think about finding somebody else? I’m not saying you need to do it right now, Draco, but it’s something to think about.”

Draco sees red, but he tries to keep a lid on his temper for the simple fact that it is his mother sitting in front of him, “I lost my wife, mother. She died giving birth to my son; your grandson. She died and now Scorpius doesn’t have a mother and I don’t have my wife standing beside me. I think I’ll take all the time I need to recover from this.”

Narcissa sighs, “Of course, Draco. You know I didn’t mean it as an insult.”

Draco rubs at his eyes; feeling wretched for the way he had spoken to his mother. She barely left his side after Astoria’s death; she had been the one to pull him away from her body.

“I’m sorry, mother. It was a tough night.”

“You’re having a lot of those, I’ve noticed.”

Draco’s lip begins to wobble, and he thanks Merlin that Scorpius is out of the room, so he didn’t have to watch his father fall to pieces.

Narcissa folds her son into her arms with the care only a mother could show. She strokes his hair as he sobs against her.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Draco sobs.

“Neither did we, my love.”

-----

Draco feels better after talking to his mother. Lucius returned fairly quickly after Draco had dried his eyes; Scorpius following on his tail, chattering about what he planned to do when he returned home.

Draco opens his arms for his son who happily falls into them; preferring to be carried rather than walking unless he was running around the gardens or the park.

“Do you have everything you need?” Draco asks his son.

Scorpius nods as Lucius holds up the small overnight bag that holds his clothes, pyjamas and his priceless teddy, Wellesley. It was the first thing Astoria brought when she found out she was pregnant. Scorpius treasured it like nothing else.

Draco takes the bag from his father; well aware of the extra treats hidden there. Scorpius had Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy wrapped around his little finger.

After they apparate home, Lucius and Narcissa watch the spot in which their son and grandson disappeared. Hands clutching the other; both worried sick over their only son.

-----

He fills his week with his son; adventures, hide-and-seek, visits to the library. Draco makes sure Scorpius fills his day with activities designed to educate but to also have fun.

It’s also a way for Draco to keep his mind drifting to the one person who no matter how he often prays and wishes, will always remain absent.

The park is one of Scorpius’ favourite places to visit. He has a personal aim to swing as high as he can without giving his father a heart attack.

They spend their hours doing all sorts together, and every night before bed, Draco tucks Scorpius in tightly. Dropping a kiss to his son’s head and then his teddy’s head, Draco wishes Scorpius the sweetest of dreams.

On a night, Draco lets the memories of his short marriage consume him. He doesn’t wear his wedding ring on his finger anymore, but rather, attached to a chain he wears around his neck. He twists this chain for hours on a night thinking of the mother that Astoria never got the chance to be.

------

Draco’s visit to the graveyard is shorter this week on account of what happened last time. He knew what happened in the living room was down to the fact that he had spent too much time at her grave, lamenting how much he missed her.

It was expected that she would answer his calls.

So he resolves to make this visit shorter; long enough to clean the area and replace the flowers but short enough to not tempt fate and spectres.

Draco recounts to her tales of Scorpius’ week. Draco laughs and beams like a proud father when he tells the story of Scorpius adopting the family of Nifflers from their copse at the bottom of the garden. He had been so proud of himself; walking all the way back to the house with a four Nifflers in tow who had deemed Scorpius as one their own.

“You’d have thought he was a Scamander,” Draco laughs, patting the loose grass from his suit pants. “I think he could very well excel at Care of Magical Creatures but it’s too soon to tell, my dear.”

Eventually, Draco stands, wiping down his black suit trousers and whispering a goodbye.

Draco is a few steps away from the black, creaky gate when you bustle through; bouquet in hand, sad smile on your face.

You pause in the gateway when you see Draco standing before you.

“(Y/N),” Draco greets, “I was hoping to catch you. I wanted to apologise for how I spoke to you the last time I saw you.”

“Draco, there’s nothing to apologise for. You’re mourning your wife; the last thing you need is someone invading that space.”

“All the same, I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

“I accept your apology, Draco.”

“Would you like to join me for a coffee? It’s been years since I saw you last, and I think it would be nice to catch up.”

You glance between the flowers in your hand and Draco waiting patiently for an answer.

“It’s okay if you don’t. I understand if you want to be with your grandfather.”

You bite your lip, glancing back to the flowers, “Do you want to come with me? All I need to is say hello and change the flowers. You don’t have to, though.”

Draco shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. I’ve had my visit today, so I don’t mind waiting with you.”

You smile at him gratefully, “Thank you; he’s just this way.”

Draco follows you as you walk the well-trodden path to your grandfather’s grave. He doesn’t let himself think as he follows, and as a result, almost bumps into you when you stop in front of a grey granite headstone.

“Hi Grandad,” You greet, “I’ve brought someone with me today, I hope you don’t mind. I’m just changing your flowers though because then we’re going to get coffee.”

You turn your attention to Draco when you finish speaking, “It’s morbid I know but it helps me process. I know he isn’t hearing me, but I can vent here and somehow I always find a solution to my problem.”

Draco nods, “I do the same with Astoria. I tell her about Scorpius and her parents though I know they visit just as much.”

You smile at the blonde-haired man before discarding the dried out flowers to one side, replacing them with the fresher, brighter flowers.

Draco watches you through the process; not missing the way your eyes dart between the headstone and to something just past it.

For a brief moment, Draco wonders if you’re being haunted too.

-----

The coffee shop is warm compared to the brisk wind that howls outside. Draco’s body relaxes as he takes in the familiar scent of bitter coffee beans; it was a recent love of his, but now, he wouldn’t find himself going a day without a cup of the acrid liquid.

You unravel the scarf hanging around your neck before taking a seat at a corner table, “I didn’t think it would be this cold today. It makes me glad I overdressed,” you chuckle.

Draco laughs politely; his own coat now hanging on the back of his chair.

You smile, “Do you know what you want? I’ll go order.”

“Nonsense, I’ll order, I invited you here.”

“Well I won’t turn down free coffee, I’ll have a latte please.”

“I’ll be right back,” is all he says before leaving the table to order.

As the drinks are being made by the teenaged barista, Draco starts to second-guess his intentions for why he asked you for coffee in the first place. All week the conversation he had with his mother had been replaying in his mind, and then he runs into you as he’s leaving the graveyard. Before he knew it, the words were flying out of his mouth and he was unable to stop them.

He’s panicking, but he doesn’t find himself regretting asking you.

He’s only regretting his intentions as to why he asked you.

He’s been alone for three years. He has Scorpius, and his parents, but he doesn’t have anyone he can talk to on a night when the air is quiet, and the moon is high. He doesn’t have that one person that he can simply hold and know that everything will be okay.

Then and there, he lets himself admit it: he’s lonely.

Astoria had been everything for the eighteen months they had been together. He was utterly devoted to her; completely besotted by her. Draco knew that he had found the love of his life; he just didn’t expect her to be taken from him so soon.

But still he wonders.

He wonders if it’s time; he wonders whether Astoria watches him and urges him to find someone new.

To feel that rush of falling in love all over again.

The clinking of mugs rips Draco from his internal debating. He thanks the barista with a smile, picking up the tray of drinks and walking carefully back to where you wait for him.

You thank him as you pick up your latte, “You looked to be thinking pretty intensely over there.”

“You were watching me?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you say, “I got bored of the view of the café.”

Draco nods; sipping tentatively at his coffee, wincing before adding another sugar to taste.

“What were you thinking of? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind. I was thinking of Astoria,” he admits.

You simply nod your head; understanding completely that a widow would think of his loss.

“How are you coping with her loss? It’s been a few years now, hasn’t it?”

“I could ask you the same question about your grandfather,” Draco murmurs, “We’re coping okay. Scorpius is thriving; he’s such a smart three year old and I know I’m biased but he retains information like a sponge.”

You laugh, “I was going to ask you about your son, I’m glad to hear he’s happy.”

“He doesn’t have any memories of his mother, but he knows who she is. He has a framed picture of her in his room that he says goodnight to every night.”

“He sounds precious, Draco.”

Draco nods; thinking of his dear boy, “He is. And I know she’s proud of him, I just feel it in my bones.”

“I’ll bet my last sickle that she’s proud of you too.”

Draco blinks fast; ridding the sudden tears away. “Thank you,” he whispers, taking another drink of his coffee to distract from the sudden wave of emotion.

He clears his throat once the wave has passed, “I asked you here to catch up; not for me to ruin the mood with my grief. How have you been? I haven’t seen you since the war.”

“You can talk to me about this, Draco, I don’t mind,” You state before continuing, “I’ve been well – I travelled a lot after the war. The whole realisation of life is short really hit me, so I left the country for a bit; travelled through Europe before jumping ship to America.”

Draco’s eyes widen, “That’s incredible. Where was your favourite place to travel?”

You glare at him playfully, “That’s such a hard question!”

He laughs lightly, “Still – you have to answer.”

You tap your fingers against your thigh, thinking his question over. You had loved everywhere you visited; feeling extremely fortunate to have met such a range of magical communities as well as integrate yourself within muggle society for a time.

“I think it would have to be this tiny island in Greece; it is said that in ancient times, the locals believed it was the end of the world, and if you went any further, you would fall off. I stayed there the longest; around a month where I explored the island, ate their food, and drank with the locals. It was the best time of my life.”

Draco inhales sharply at your words; not realised that he’s instinctively leaned towards you through your speech. He leans back into his chair, running a hand through his hair, “It sounds wonderful,” he whispers.

You nod; eyes glazed somewhat as you think back to your time on that heavenly island, “It really was.”

You shake yourself from your reminiscing, “What about you then, Draco? I know about the wedding, and your son, but what did you do after the war?”

Draco waves his hand in a nonchalant fashion, “Nothing as wonderful as travelling the globe though I did go to France on my honeymoon. I trained as a Healer straight from Hogwarts; I’ve been at St. Mungo’s since Scorpius was born.”

“That’s great, Draco! I always knew you would make a great Healer ever since I saw you in Potions.”

Draco ducks his head, “Thank you, I enjoy the work. Are you working now?”

You nod your head, “I work for the Daily Prophet; writing real articles and not the trollop that Rita Skeeter used to waffle on about.”

Draco barks out a laugh, surprising himself at the volume of it, “I remember her coverage of the Triwizard Tournament! It was so awful.”

You beam; eyes bright with joy, “Weren’t they? I promise I’m a much better writer… not to sound big-headed.”

“I completely believe you; I’ll have to start keeping an eye out for your articles. I haven’t read the paper in so long. I haven’t had the time if I’m honest – I get my news from my mother.”

“How are your parents? I heard about them after the war.”

“Mother coped so well. She made it her mission to entirely renovate the house, and with it, the Malfoy reputation. She donates to charities now; her focus is children orphaned during the war. Father struggled, but he’s found his purpose for life again in Scorpius. Last time I was there, he showed him his collection of matchboxes.”

You laugh lightly, “That’s brilliant. I’m glad to hear that they’re doing well.”

“How is your family? I remember your mother from Kings Cross, always running to meet you off the train.”

“She’s doing okay,” You sigh, “She struggled after my grandfather but she’s working her way back to herself.”

Draco nods in understanding; he felt nothing but pride and a sting of jealously for your mothers process with her grief. Here he was, three years later, and still reaching out to the other side of bed only to grasp at empty, cold sheets.

However, as all things must, your time together comes to an end. The coffees are drank; coats are pulled back on and goodbyes are said on the pavement.

Draco walks away from you; apparating back to his home feeling lighter than he has in years.

------

Draco takes Scorpius to Diagon Alley on a Wednesday morning.

His son had been particularly restless the night before; a nightmare waking him. Draco does what he can to chase the monsters away before scooping up his only son and carrying him to the master bedroom. Scorpius sleeps soundly after that, but Draco remains awake – mind plaguing him with memories of Astoria but also of the coffee he shared with you.

It’s noon when Scorpius begins to pester his father for lunch. In his own words; he’s starving, and he hasn’t eaten in hours.

Draco laughs at his son. Three years old, but utterly dramatic. He kneels down so he’s eye-level, “How about we have ice cream for lunch?”

Scorpius’ face lights up and he begins to jump in his spot, “Can we go now? Please?”

Draco nods, holding out his hand for Scorpius take so he doesn’t get lost in the short distance to Florean Fortescue’s. He had lost him once; and whilst it was only two minutes before he found him, it was two minutes, he never wants to relive.

Draco lifts Scorpius so he can see the rows of flavours behind the glass. Scorpius’ eyes are wide as he checks the colour of every flavour. He even goes so far to press his face to the glass, fogging it up. Draco chuckles at his son’s antics; knowing full well he’ll pick the same flavour he’s gotten on every visit.

“Have you decided?”

Scorpius nods, “Chocolate please.”

Draco places Scorpius on the ground, “One chocolate tub, and one caramel fudge swirl tub please.”

Florean nods at the young Malfoy family with a large smile; watching them sit down at a window table before bringing their ice creams to them.

Scorpius attacks his chocolate tub with ferocity. Draco touches his son’s hand, “Slow down, squirt. You’ll get stomach ache.”

Scorpius looks as if he doesn’t believe his father’s word but not wanting to risk the chance of a stomach ache, he slows his pace. Carefully scooping the frozen treat before eating. His legs swing as he watches the scores of witches and wizards passing; they all look to be hurrying somewhere yet Scorpius doesn’t know where, but seeing all the different people, keeps his attention squarely on the window.

Draco works his way through his ice cream faster than his son; his weakness being the caramel fudge swirl that Florean makes fresh every day. He settles for drifting once his tub is empty and Scorpius is happily distracted by whatever he’s watching out of the window.

Draco begins to wonder about his son’s future – something he’s done a thousand times since his birth. He wonders about what Hogwarts house would best fit his sons personality; though he knew that the Sorting Hat would be the final word on that. But Draco can’t help but ponder over what attributes his son will demonstrate – will he ambitious enough for Slytherin? Courageous enough for Gryffindor? Loyal enough for Hufflepuff? Creative enough for Ravenclaw?

He had eight more years to ponder over it, but it’s still a question he’d like answered. However, Draco would still adore his son no matter his house.

“Draco?” Your voice sounds, breaking him out of his deliberating.

“(Y/N),” He greets.

Scorpius turns from people-watching, taking in the visitor standing at their table.

“And you must be Scorpius, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

Scorpius shies away slightly from the new person, inching back a bit in his chair.

“It’s okay, Scorpius,” Draco reassures, “I went to school with (Y/N).”

You nod, “I did! I was in Slytherin with him, and he was so smart! He still is; he’s a Healer isn’t he? Isn’t that so cool?”

Draco blushes at your compliments but it brings Scorpius out of his shell.

“My dad is the coolest! He fixes people when they are very sick.”

You nod seriously, “Yes, he does. It was very nice to meet you, Scorpius but I have to get back to work with my ice cream.”

Scorpius smiles, his teeth on show, “Goodbye!”

“It was nice to see you, Draco,” You say, smiling at the blonde-haired man.

“It was nice to see you too, even if it was so brief.”

You laugh, “Work calls I’m afraid, but I always have an ice cream, so I wasn’t going to let work stop me,” You wander back to the counter where Florean waits with your cone, “I’ll also cover Draco’s bill too, Florean.”

“You don’t have to,” Draco begins to protest.

You hold your hand up, smiling gently, “You treated me to coffee. I’ll treat you to your ice cream.”

Draco nods, wordlessly. Scorpius watches him with his eyebrows furrowed.

You take a lick of your cone, “I’ll see you soon, Draco. Have a nice day, Scorpius!”

And like that, you leave the ice cream parlour, heading back to the office where a pile of work awaits.

Draco leans back in his chair, disbelief clear on his face.

“What’s wrong, dad?”

Draco shakes his head, “Nothing, squirt.”

Scorpius shrugs, determining it adult stuff. “I like the lady who spoke to us.”

“(Y/N)?”

Scorpius nods, “She was really nice.”

“She is. She was nice when we were at school together.”

“She’s a good friend.”

“She is,” Draco murmurs once again, mind in another place entirely.

Scorpius lets his father have his moment; turning back to the window, wondering if he might get to see the nice lady named (Y/N) again.

------

Two months pass, and January’s winter gives way to March’s spring.

The gardens at his home and at the Manor have started to bloom beautifully meaning that Draco is constantly surrounded by floral aromas that make his head spin and Scorpius sneeze.

Draco starts to see more and more of you at the graveyard. After each visit, you seem to wait for the other – always asking whether the other would like to go for a coffee; very rarely refusing the offer.

He enjoyed the time he spent with you; Draco felt like he got to make up for the lost time he was an arsehole at Hogwarts.

The more time he spent with you; the more he started to feel the urge to begin his life again. But the hauntings continue; he continues to see his wife in the mirror; hearing her voice on a night whispering to him that it’s okay to move on. But hearing those words from the mouth of the woman he promised an eternity with racks his entire body with guilt.

But it’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t want to stay away from you.

The more time you spend with Draco Malfoy; the more you can feel yourself fall for him – his smile, his eyes, his mind. You just hoped that the landing wasn’t going to be too rough.

------

Draco drops Scorpius off at the Manor before heading to the graveyard for his usual Saturday visit. He blindly hopes to see you again after running into you at the ice cream parlour and seldom seeing you after but refuses to let himself dwell too long on the hope.

He was visiting his dead wife, after all.

He still grieves for her; still reaches for her in the middle of the night, but there are times through the day where he doesn’t feel so weighed down by grief – where he feels as if he can begin functioning fully once again.

But then that brings the guilt.

And that leads to the sightings.

And then that leads to the visits.

It’s a vicious cycle, and he’s desperate to break it.

He knows logically that Astoria would always be a part of him; he sees her every time he lays eyes on Scorpius but the small voice in the back of his head tells him often that he isn’t ready to let go yet.

And all Draco is desperate to know is: when?

-----

You find him knelt before her grave. He’s silent; simply staring at her headstone, reading the words that are already seared into his mind: Beloved Daughter, Wife, and Mother.

You place your hand on his shoulder and he jumps at the sudden contact. He relaxes once he sees it’s you, “(Y/N),” he breathes out, “I thought you were someone else.”

“I can tell,” you murmur, “Are you okay?”

He nods silently; gazing at the headstone once again, “I will be.”

“I can stay with you, if you need me.”

He shakes his head, “Go. Go see your grandfather; tell him hi from me.”

You want to laugh but nothing comes out. Draco looks at you; his blue eyes bright, “I’ll be okay,” he says gently.

The softness of his voice has you stepping away, “You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

Draco nods, hearing you walk away from him.

He’s a man made entirely of conflictions. He watches you from the corner of his eye and wonders whether he is finally ready to start his life again after Astoria; ready press play once more and see what happens but the sheer fear that runs through him, paralyses him.

He doesn’t know what to think; he doesn’t know what to do.

All he knows is that in the handful of times he has seen you, you make him want to live again.

----

Your time with your grandfather comes to an end, and you stand from where you had knelt, murmuring a goodbye.

You can’t miss the way Draco remains in front of his wife’s grave. Standing just after you; stretching out the tight muscles in his back that had stiffened the longer he had sat there.

You sigh at the sight; mindlessly wondering if you would ever find a love that would impact you this much.

It was unintentional; it hadn’t meant to happen but the feelings you once harboured for the Slytherin Prince were returning in full force the more you saw of him.

But now, there was so much more to consider.

At Hogwarts, it was social groups that kept you from ever revealing your crush – that, and Pansy Parkinson. Now, though, Draco was a widower still very much in love with his dead wife, and he had a son that came first.

You know you need to tread carefully, but there was something addicting about the man’s presence. His way with words; his hand gestures; how he’d slip off into his own mind – it all had you caught; you were hook, line, and sinker.

You make your way back to the blonde-haired man, “What do you say to another coffee? I wish I could have stayed longer the last time I saw you, but work, you know?”

Draco nods; looking very much as if he wants to accept – the words being on the very tip of his tongue, but he sighs heavily, “I can’t today, I need to grab my son from my parents.”

“Oh,” You shake your head – of course, “Another time then! I’d like to see you again soon.”

You make to walk away but a hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, “Would you like to come with me? I need to grab Scorpius but we’re making dinner tonight and you’re welcome to join.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be. Scorpius has been asking about you.”

That makes your decision for you, “Alright, I’ll join you for dinner.”

Draco smiles; letting go of his hold on your wrist, “I usually apparate to the manor, do you mind?”

You shake your head, placing a gentle hand on his outstretched arm.

Within a second, you’ve landed at the seat of Malfoy power for the last century. Draco was right you realise; Narcissa had lightened the manor up. Flowers border the main path; stemming from Hyacinths to white Lilies, to Irises. Colour lives up the home immediately, and the warm light coming from the masses of windows only makes the place more welcoming.

“I remember visiting here when I was a youngster,” You start, “I remember it being cold and uninviting… no offence, but now it feels so warm and happy.”

“That’s my mother’s influence,” Draco states; smiling wryly at the sight of all the flowers, knowing too well of the masses of Roses behind the manor.

Draco sounds the knocker three times before Narcissa pulls open the door with the smile reserved only for her son. She blinks twice before registering your presence; then she needs to do a double take.

“Afternoon, Mother,” Draco greets; leaning in to kiss her cheek which Narcissa returns distractedly – her eyes still on you.

“Draco, dear,” She greets, “And who have you brought with you?”

“Straight to the crux, aren’t we?” Draco laughs, “This is (Y/N). Surely you remember her?”

“Not Anthony’s granddaughter?”

You nod your head; ignoring the spear of grief flung through you at the sound of your grandfather’s name, “The very same,” you greet, “It’s lovely to be here. I was just mentioning to Draco how gorgeous your flowers are.”

Narcissa beams; her flowers are her pride and joy other than the son who had battled so much and came out the other side only stronger. “Thank you, my dear. Lucius and I were so saddened to hear of Anthony’s passing – tell me, how is your mother doing?”

“Better, thank you. She took his death as a blow – well, we all did but she took it the hardest being the only daughter and losing my grandmother so young.”

Narcissa nods; ushering you into the foyer of the grand manor, “We sent flowers, but we’re sorry we couldn’t make it to the service.”

A lumps forms in your throat at the mention of the service. It had been a beautiful and respectful service, but your memories of it were tied with the heart-clenching sobs of your mother as he cried about how she missed her father. It was a hard day and night for all; very few had dry eyes.

Draco notices your hesitancy at replying to his mother; notices the glazed look in your eye. He wraps his arm around Narcissa’s shoulder, distracting her from asking you any more questions, “How was Scorpius today?”

“Like always, an angel,” Narcissa coos, “Lucius has started to teach him French.”

“French? So early?” Draco asks; keeping a wary eye on you.

“Nonsense, my love. You were three when we started to teach you the basics.”

“You speak French?” You ask; mind now focused back onto the conversation. You shoot a grateful look to draco; he replies with a soft, kind smile.

Narcissa nods, “Most of our family does. Draco has spoken French fluently since he was nine years old.”

“Oui, maman,” Draco responds cheekily.

Narcissa playfully hit her son’s shoulder, “Hush you. Scorpius is with your father in the Library – shall we go grab him?”

Draco nods; desperate to see his son after hours apart, “Are you okay to follow?” he asks, throwing a glance to where you remain rooted.

You shake yourself free; banishing all thoughts of Draco and his speaking of one of the most romantic languages on the planet from your head.

You follow with a sheepish smile, “Definitely. Even I’ve heard tales of Lucius’ library.”

Narcissa chuckles, “He spends more time in there; researching and reading anything.”

“What does he research?” You ask; curiosity piqued.

“Anything – the pagan tribes of the celts at the moment. He’s focused on the history of Wiltshire at the moment; I’ve had stop him twice this week from apparating to Stonehenge and scaring the tourists.”

Draco pauses; falling into step with you as Narcissa opens the library doors, “My father needed something to do after the war; historical research turned out to be his niche.”

“It sounds like he’s having one hell of a time,” You comment; not kissing the grin that stretches across Draco’s face.

“Scorp, darling, your father is here!” Narcissa calls out after not having found her grandson where she had left him with his grandfather.

It’s hard to miss the footfalls of the toddler as he runs through the shelve stacks, crowing, “Dad! You’re back!”

Draco catches Scorpius in his arms, “Hey there, squirt. How was your day?”

“Fun. Grandpa taught me about the selts.”

“Celts, my boy,” Lucius says, appearing from behind one of the many shelves, “A hard C. Celts.”

Scorpius’ eyebrows furrows as he repeats the word again, “Celts.”

Lucius claps, “Excellent! We’ll make a historian of you yet.”

Scorpius beams at the pride rolling off Lucius in waves; he almost doesn’t notice you standing next to Draco.

“(Y/N)!”

“Hi Scorpius,” You greet.

“Why are you here?” He asks.

You laugh at his curiosity, “Your father invited me for tea, is that okay?”

The young boy nods, “We’re having pasta.”

You smile, “I like pasta.”

Scorpius nods again, and just like that, it’s settled.

Draco hitches Scorpius higher onto his hip, “He wasn’t much trouble?”

His question breaks his parents from staring at the exchange between you and Scorpius. Lucius smiles at Draco, “Scorpius is never any trouble.”

“Thank you for looking after him again.”

“It’s no bother to us. We love the boy,” Narcissa comments; blinking away what look to be like tears.

“We’ll see you soon, no doubt,” Draco says, “Say bye to granny and grandpa, squirt.”

Scorpius yells his goodbye with a large smile.

Draco holds his free arm out to you, and the three of you apparate to his home in the next village over.

Draco’s house is nowhere near the size of Malfoy Manor, but it is still large in comparison to the two bedroomed flat you rented in Diagon Alley.

It’s perfectly symmetrical you realise as Draco opens the garden gate. Two windows on either side of the pale green front door. Always a Slytherin, you think as you follow Draco up the main path. He readjusts Scorpius as he reaches for his key; putting Scorpius down as he opens the door.

Scorpius reaches for your hand, “I’ll show you the kitchen,” he states, leading you through the large foyer to a room just to the right.

The kitchen is the biggest one you’ve been in. The island being home to a breakfast bar where Scorpius tries to climb up to before you cave and place him on one of the stools.

Draco follows closely behind; opening the fridge to grab the ingredients for dinner.

You hop off a stool, “What can I do to help?”

Draco pauses, “You need to sit down, I said I was cooking.”

You roll your eyes, “I want to help, so what can I do?”

“Add the pasta to the pot when the water starts to boil. I’ve already salted the water.”

You nod, rolling the sleeves up on your blouse. Draco doesn’t miss the small tattoo on your left forearm, “When did you get that?” he asks as he starts to crush and chop some garlic.

You look down to the now familiar swirling patterns below the crook of your elbow, laughing, “I got it after our Eighth Year. I snuck out to a muggle artist and got it done; mum hit the roof.”

Draco laughs, moving on to slicing the tomatoes in two. You look down at the pot of water, happy to see it boiling. You add the pasta to the pot, stirring twice before stepping away from the pan.

You sit back down at the breakfast bar; ruffling Scorpius’ hair as you do so. The blonde-haired boy giggles, “Can I see your arm?”

You glance at Draco to check that he’s okay with Scorpius seeing your tattoo. Draco nods and you hold out your arm for Scorpius to gaze at your tattoo.

He reaches out a small finger, running it over the ink gently, “Did it hurt?”

You shake your head, “Not a bit.”

“Dad has a tattoo.”

You stiffen at his words; so does Draco.

The Dark Mark that mars Draco’s arm wasn’t spoken about when it was placed on his forearm, and it wasn’t spoken about now. It has been years since the Dark Lord was vanquished by Harry Potter yet his mark upon the house of Malfoy had definitely been left.

“It’s pale but I’ve seen it.”

Draco clears his throat, saying somewhat brokenly, “Dinner is almost ready. Go clean up, squirt.”

You help Scorpius down from the stool; grinning as he rushes away to the downstairs bathroom to wash his hands before dinner.

As soon as he’s left, you turn your attention back to Draco who’s stirring the pan of pasta quietly, “I’m sorry, Draco.”

“For what?” He asks incredulously.

“For showing him my tattoo. I didn’t think he would bring up yours.”

Draco shrugs, “It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it, and like squirt said, it’s pretty faded now.”

You nod, “I’m glad. Where do you keep your plates? I’ll grab them for you.”

“Second cupboard on from the fridge. There’s a small plastic one for Scorpius there too.”

You grab the three plates, wandering back to where Draco is adding the pasta to the sauce simmering away in the pan. Scorpius rushes back into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table by the window.

“Show us your hands, squirt. Are they clean?”

Scorpius holds his hands up, waving them at his father. Draco squints, pretending to look over his son’s hands with extra care, “Very good. Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes!” Scorpius shouts, legs kicking under the table.

Draco laughs, “Well it’s a good thing it’s ready then!”

Draco takes over yours and Scorpius’ plates first before grabbing his and the cutlery. He cuts up Scorpius’ pasta before settling in his own seat and starting to eat.

“This is so tasty,” You compliment, “One of the best meals I’ve had.”

Scorpius nods rapidly, working through his own mouthful before saying, “Dad is the best cook! You should try his pancakes!”

“Thanks, squirt,” Draco replies, smiling at him.

“I’ll have to try those pancakes one day,” You murmur, casting a side glance at the blonde-haired man sat to your left.

“I think you will,” He replies, effectively knocking the breath out of you.

Of course, you would rekindle feelings for your teenage crush when he’s now a widow and a father. You wanted to roll your eyes, but instead, you focus your gaze back to your meal.

The dinner is soon over, and the plates are cleared away to the sink where they’ll be washed after dessert.

Dessert is a slice of chocolate cake and ice cream; a treat from Narcissa. Scorpius makes as much conversation as he can; telling his father and you about the day he had at his grandparents where he learnt about the mystical celts and Stonehenge. Soon, though, his eyes start to droop and his final spoonful of cake clatters to the plate.

Draco scoops up his son; cradling in his arms as he once did those years ago. Draco murmurs an apology to you as he carries his son from the kitchen to his room,  but you wave him away.

To help, you collect the plates and start running the hot water, adding dish soap as you go. You’re almost finished with the final plate when Draco returns from putting Scorpius to bed.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

You shrug, “I don’t mind – it makes me feel useful.”

“Alright. You washed, I’ll dry,” Draco bargains; grabbing the tea towel from the counter and picking up the first plate.

“Did he fall asleep okay?” You question.

Draco nods, “Out like a light, I had put his pyjamas on for him.”

You chuckle, “Bless him.”

“He really likes you,” Draco comments.

“Well, what’s not to like?” You quip, grinning, “I really like him too. He’s a credit to you, Draco.”

Draco finishes drying the final plate; putting them back in their assigned cupboard.

“Thank you. Would you like a drink, or do you need to be at work early?”

“I do, but I’d like that drink.”

Draco pulls two glasses from the display before reaching for a bottle of red wine. You already knew that you would wake up tomorrow with a headache, but it was worth it to spend more time with him.

Draco pours two glasses before handing one to you. He grabs the bottle and his glass, leading you to the living room across the foyer.

You take a seat on the maroon couch, taking a drink of wine before placing the glass on a coaster.

“Thank you for the meal. It was delicious. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“That is all part of Narcissa Malfoy’s rearing of a good husband. She started teaching me to cook before I left for Hogwarts and would give me lessons every school holiday.”

“Well, you’re very good. I’ll be thinking of that pasta for days.”

Draco smiles at you from over the rim of his wine glass and your stomach flips.

“Why did you tell your mother that it was just dinner?” You question, referring to the incident earlier at Malfoy Manor. You take another sip of wine, watching Draco the whole time.

“Mother has it in her mind that it’s time for me to find someone new. She worries that I’ve been alone too long,” Draco drawls wryly.

“What do you think?”

Draco swishes the remaining wine in his glass; reaching for the bottle to refill.

“I don’t know,” is his answer as he tops off your glass too.

“Are you lonely?”

“You really are a journalist, aren’t you?” He teases.

You roll your eyes, smiling, “Are you though? Lonely?”

Draco locks eyes with you; the answer is on the tip of his tongue, ready to make its entrance but he’s interrupted by the cry of his son.

Wine glasses are placed hurriedly as you both rush to the young boy’s room; his cries getting louder.

The both of you fall into the room in a hurry; desperate to help Scorpius. Draco shakes his shoulders, bringing him back to reality.

“Scorpius, Scorpius – it’s okay, open your eyes.”

“Dad?” Scorpius asks; his voice a sob.

“It’s me, squirt. I’m here.”

Scorpius opens his arms for his father. Draco picks him up with no hesitation; cuddling his son to his side – drying his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“It sounded like a bad one,” Draco comments.

Scorpius nods, “I don’t want to go back to sleep, I’m scared.”

Draco looks torn in two. On the one hand, Scorpius needs to sleep otherwise he’ll be as cranky as a Hungarian Horntail tomorrow. However, on the other hand, Draco won’t force Scorpius back into another nightmare by insisting he sleep.”

You step forward, perching on the end of Scorpius’ bed, “I have an idea, but you need to be all comfortable and cosy, okay?”

Scorpius nods timidly; rearranging himself against Draco’s side, cuddling his beloved teddy tighter.

“Are you cosy?”

He nods once more.

“Okay, I’ll begin: Once upon a time in a far off land there lived a king who was very lonely. He had tried for years and years to meet the love of his life, but he felt defeated for he hadn’t found the one…”

It takes over an hour – three stories and two muggle songs before Scorpius is soundly sleeping once again.

Draco shifts him with the expertise of a parent before leaving his bedroom with you in tow.

He goes to close the door, but you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him. “Leave it open two,” you start, “the light from the landing will comfort him a little if he has another nightmare.”

Draco leaves the door open a crack. Turning to you, he says, “I don’t know why I never thought of that.”

You shrug, “It’s something my mum used to do for me.”

“You were incredible in there by the way,” Draco compliments as you descend the stairs together.

“Thank you,” You murmur shyly.

“Where did you learn those stories and songs?” He asks, “I feel like I should take notes for next time,” he chuckles half-heartedly.

You laugh too, “The stories I made up years ago and the songs are muggle ones I heard on my travels. I used to babysit my younger cousins for extra pocket money – I got to be creative very quickly.”

“Well it paid off,” Draco comments, eyes flickering to the stairs.

“It certainly did,” You murmur; eyes following Draco’s.

It’s silent for a few moments; the both of you thinking of the other without the other knowing. You, terrified to tell him for the fear of rejection. Him, terrified about letting down his dead wife.

You both go to speak at the same time and promptly burst into quiet laughter.

Through the span of the conversation, you’ve gravitated towards Draco – bodies angled towards each other, hands close to touching, heads close together.

If you leaned forward an inch, your mouth would be on his.

The alcohol coursing through your veins makes the connection for you as in the next second, you’ve leant forward and attached your lips to Draco’s.

He doesn’t respond at first; too in shock by your boldness but when you’re about to pull away, he wraps a hand in your hair, keeping your mouth pressed to his. Lips glide together seamlessly. He bites down on your lower lip, making you gasp. He deepens the kiss then; shifting on the couch to press you further into it.

Your hand make their way into his hair, and Draco groans against your mouth at the feel.

But it’s all too much and you need to pull away.

Chest heaving, you drag your mouth away from Draco’s. He nuzzles his nose into your cheek, pressing little kisses across your jawline to your ear before sitting back up.

“I didn’t expect that,” You gasp.

“Neither did I, but I’m not mad about it.”

“You aren’t? I did just jump you.”

Draco laughs, “It would have happened sooner or later.”

“Really?” You ask; a note of happiness unmistakable in your voice.

Draco nods, running his thumb across your lips, relishing in the fact that they’re swollen because of him.

The wine has gone to your head, and you feel your eyes begin to droop before the first yawn hits. You sigh, pulling away from Draco’s distracting touch, “I think I better head off.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to leave.”

“Why, do you want me to stay, Draco?” You tease.

He nods, “I can’t offer much, but this couch is really comfy.”

“And where will you be sleeping?” You ask; the wine making you more brash.

Draco blushes. You take back your words, “I’m sorry, Draco. Red wine goes straight to my head.”

“Don’t be, it’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t. I just propositioned you and all we’ve done is kiss,” You groan, dropping your head into your hands.

Draco pulls your hands away from your face, “(Y/N), it’s fine, really. The blanket on the back of the couch is really warm; grab it will you?”

You feel your face heat as you reach for the large grey blanket draped over the back of the couch. Draco stands momentarily to toe off his shoes before settling back down on the couch. You slip off your own shoes before clambering onto the couch next to him.

This was all so intimate.

Draco throws the large blanket over you both. Once suitably covered, his arm slips around your waist and your hand rests on his chest.

Neither of you say anything. No words need to be spoken now; everything expressed through actions alone.

With a kiss to the top of your head, Draco falls asleep unafraid of what he’ll meet in the morning.

--------

It’s the sunlight that wakes you. Bright light warming your face; you flutter your eyes open to find you face to face with Draco’s chest. Neither of you had moved in night; if anything, becoming closer together. At some point, his legs had tangled with yours and your hand had gripped his shirt so tight, it came away wrinkled when you loosened your grip.

You sigh happily; then you glance at the clock on the mantle piece where the hands make it abundantly clear that you were going to be late for work.

Extracting yourself carefully from Draco’s hold, you pick up your shoes from the floor. You search quickly for a spare piece of paper and a pen; scrawling a note for Draco to read when he wakes.

With one last look at the man you had fallen for in such a short amount of time, you apparated away.

-----

Draco wakes not long after you leave; feeling oddly light without the weight of your body pressed up against him. He frowns when he realises that you’ve left without a goodbye but with a glance at the clock, he doesn’t have much time to worry about it.

Scorpius would be awake any minute and demanding breakfast.

Draco sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. It had been so long since he had slept with someone by his side; wrapped around him the way you were, and he was happy to admit, he had missed the feeling of another human pressed so tightly against him, he could feel every contour in their body.

He almost falls off the couch when he notices your note lying on the table. He grabs it with shaking hands:

“Had to go to work – meet me for lunch if you can? Thank you for last night. You still owe me pancakes – (Y/N).”

He feels like a teenager again experiencing the rush of his first crush. He runs a hand across his face; standing up to get a start on breakfast. He folds your note in two before sliding it into his wallet for safekeeping.

It’s then that Draco realises he has two things he needs to do.

-----

Draco drops Scorpius off at Astoria’s parents for the morning. Apologising to his son for bailing on their plans of the park and the library; Scorpius simply pats his father’s face in goodbye before running to his grandma and grandad Greengrass.

Draco waves at his in-laws before apparating to see their daughter.

-----

The graveyard looks entirely different, but Draco knows nothing has changed. What has changed is him, and he need to tell Astoria.

Kneeling in his usual place in front of her grave, Draco releases a shaky breath.

“Hi darling, I know I’m early for our visit, but I have something important to discuss with you,” He looks down at his hands before continuing, “I think I’ve met someone, and I really want to pursue it. I want to see where it goes.

“You have to understand, darling, I never thought I would love again after you. I really didn’t and for three years, I’ve been an island with just enough room for Scorpius. I didn’t expect it, but it happened, and I like the way (Y/N) makes me feel. I feel excited again; my hands are shaking from the very thought.

“Scorpius likes her by the way, and she likes him, but they both know they won’t ever fill the role that you were supposed to. And I think they’re both happy with that knowledge.

“I’m not asking for your permission, but I am asking for your forgiveness. For not loving you harder; for not taking more time to be with you; for not apologising immediately after every argument. But I’m ready to start living again and I’ve found someone that makes me want to live again; that incites that spark of life within me, and I desperately want to see where it goes.  

“I haven’t seen you in a while; around the house. I think you realised what was happening before I did and finally made your peace with it. I can’t ever forget you and our time. I see whenever I look at our little boy, but I’m ready to begin again, and so I shall.”

Draco stands from the grave feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had to speak to Astoria before he could speak to you; he had tell her his choice but to reassure that he would always love her, but his heart was ready to make room for another person.

And that person was you.

With one last glance at the marble headstone, Draco apparates to Diagon Alley.

----------

The offices to the Daily Prophet newspaper lie in a side street just off the high street. He signs in at reception but asks the receptionist not to alert you of his presence. The receptionist flushes when she realises that she’s now part of a romantic plot. Draco smiles at her gratefully as he makes his way to the main lift, asking for your floor.

He taps his foot the entire ride up to your floor, annoying every single person in the lift with him. But he can’t help it; he’s both excited and nervous.

In a few moments, he’s changing the direction of his life forever, and he couldn’t feel more ready to start.

The door opens on your floor and Draco rushes out, followed by the happy sighs of those journeying to higher floors. He wants to laugh at their reactions, but the butterflies rioting in his stomach make him feel as if he could vomit right on the muddy brown carpet.

It’s not hard to find which desk is yours by the amount of trinkets on there. Files are precariously high in one section, and then the rest of the desk bar the cream typewriter is covered by snow globes and tiny figurines of landmarks from your travels. From this first look at your desk, Draco already has a sense of what your flat will look like.

You gasp when you see Draco standing in the door to your office, “Draco, you’re early for lunch.”

Draco walks up to your desk; his hands shaking through it all, “Let me make you pancakes.”

“What?” You ask, breathless.

“Let me make you pancakes,” He repeats, “I want to make you pancakes in the morning.”

“Really?” You sniffle; tears collecting.

Draco nods, “I’m still grieving, but I always will be. However, that doesn’t mean my life needs to come to an end and I realised that I want it to continue with you by my side so… let me make you pancakes every morning.”

Tears have started to fall down your face and you sniffle before speaking, “Okay. You can make me pancakes.”

Draco beams; eyes crinkling. He leans in close to you, whispering, “Do you think you can get off early?”

You grab your bag before he finishes his sentence, “Let’s get out of here.”

Draco holds his hand out for you to take. At the feel of your skin against his, a jolt of electricity runs between you. It takes everything in him not to drag you into a kiss in the foyer of the building.

He waits until he’s in the street.

Like a gentleman.

He waits until the coast is somewhat clear before pulling you into his side and drawing your mouth to his like you did last night. Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you.

It’s not your first kiss, and it won’t be your last, but this one kiss means the world to the both of you.

Through it all, you’ve learnt to swim.

-------

A year later:

Scorpius is almost five years old when he visits his mother’s grave for the first time in his life. He had been less than three weeks old when she was buried in the Greengrass plot

Scorpius watches as his father kneels before her first; apologising for his absence and asking for her forgiveness.

But then he looks to Scorpius; where he stands with his hand holding onto yours tightly.

Draco beckons to Scorpius with an open hand. Scorpius staggers to his father’s side immediately.

“Hi Mum,” he whispers.

Draco’s hand is firm on his son’s shoulders; a comforting presence.

“I miss you,” he starts, “I know I never got to know you, but I miss you. I have your picture in my room, so I know what you look like, and Wellesley. I’m starting school soon; a small magic school with kids like me and I’m really excited. Dad’s doing well. He was sad for a while but he’s happier now and he talks about you more with (Y/N) who I like too. I want to come back, and I think Dad will let me, so I’ll see you soon, Mum.”

And with that, Scorpius walks away, happy to have finally met the mother had wanted to meet for so long.

Draco watches his son potter back to the still creaky gate in awe. You join his side; fingers tangling in his. “How are you feeling?” You ask, watching Draco’s face.

“Happy and in love,” is Draco’s reply.

*****

Muggle songs:

Johnny Ace - Pledging My Love

Paul Anka - Put Your Head On My Shoulder

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife​ @levylovegood​ @mytreec​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @teheharrypotter​ @chaoticgirl04​

Draco Malfoy taglist @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey

[lunarrwolf]

prompt #21: “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” *gets killed* “Oh.”

word count: 1,061

summary: you just wanted to play drunk among us

prompt list

—

With the process of moving hundreds of miles away from home and needing to settle into the new apartment, you hadn’t been able to play (let alone stream) Among Us for at least two weeks. The gaming community was riddled with mentions, tags and memes about how long you were away and what in the world it was that kept you at bay from posting or recording. Scrolling through it all one day, you realized it really had been a while. All that time spent unpacking and making sure everything was set really took longer than expected.

It felt like way more than fourteen days passed before finding yourself in the computer chair, systems on and accounts logged into. Out of the many texts received from friends about joining lobbies or multiplayer games while they recorded for their own channel, you were finally able to agree to one sent earlier that morning.

Corpse Husband began drunk run-throughs of the mobile and computer game not too long ago, and you’d been dying to take part ever since watching the first video. It took a few extra days of tying up loose ends in your home state before being able to let him know you could finally do a few rounds, and by then you were raring to have your little astronaut play survivor or murderer. Especially taking into consideration the lack of practice that was able to go into it lately.

“Look who’s finally among us! Miss YT/N herself!” The sound of groans was clear in your headset as the man made his pun, including emotes dropped in by your stream’s chat.

You gave a short laugh. “Oh man, Dream. I didn’t know you longed for my presence that much.”

“Of course I did. Who else am I gonna gang up on?”

“Wow—mental note for game time.” You stated, earning a weak comeback from the faceless YouTuber as he struggled to find something clever. Everyone spent a few more minutes waiting for the last couple of people before Corpse started the countdown, resulting in the group already guessing who was going to be the impostor.

CREWMATE

“Aw, man..” You muttered, disappointed that the revenge on Dream’s joke would have to wait. The only thing left to do was run around, find allies that hopefully wouldn’t kill you (even more so during one of the long tasks) and weed out the fakes.

Thanks to proximity chat being another factor, you took great advantage every time the lights were turned off during the first three rounds. Even with the dark screen, the dimmed figures of the other characters running around were always visible enough for you to avoid them. Not that it mattered when you had no idea who was deemed as either impostor, but you planned on hiding around the ship to figure it out.

It was already the third time someone shut off the power after the last voting session, which fueled a lot of sarcastic remarks from each person you passed about how often it was happening. And with the eject confirmations turned off, it was that much harder to know who was left to expose in the final five. Ethan and Sykkuno were hanging out in the back of the cafeteria this time around, and out of curiosity you trotted up to eavesdrop, being grateful you stole the color black from the deep voiced gamer. Parking yourself in the corner closest to them, you listened closely. “I think Y/N is one of them. I haven’t seen her the whole game and every time I do she’s a freakin’ jet plane.”

After an involuntary gasp, the guys stopped talking, Ethan’s blue space boy now facing your direction along with Sykkuno’s dark green one. “Oh, sorry, did I interrupt something?”

There was a short second of silence before one of them spoke up. “Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you, uh, doing on the vent?”

 You could only stare at the two young adults’ astronauts dumbfounded as it set in that you actually were standing on top of a vent. Clearing your throat, you took another swig of your drink and hovered your hand over the buttons that helped you as impostor in case you had to prove yourself. “I know what this looks like, but I can explain.” You began, taking the silence and still animations as the signal to continue. However, any planned words got caught in your throat, resorting to nothing but a very broken sentence. The small giggles rang so clear in your headphones they caused a pout that surfaced many comments from the chat. “Can’t an astronaut take a nap in the cafe of their spaceship anymore?”

“Maybe in the lobby? That way you don’t get killed.” Sykkuno suggested. Being one of the only ones not having anything pertaining to the drunken aspect of playing tonight, he was completely sober and wanted to keep you from becoming a ghost. A fact that went over your head seeing as—even though you weren’t fully drunk, just a bit tipsy—you were less responsive than usual.

It didn’t even occur that he was trying to help when you went on a tangent about how tiring moving day is when it turns into a moving month, and how you would stay up to binge a new show you found that would have otherwise distracted you from working if you played it during unpacking hours. The lights turned back on while you went on and on for the next few seconds, just for you to be interrupted by Ethan. “Just go to sleep, dude.”

“I refuse, Ethanol.” You countered, grinning when exasperation could be heard from the other end at your nickname for him. A small purple sprite with cat ears ran up beside you, and you all took a second to greet one another before you continued. “I’ll have you know that I am committed to finding the culprit. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, and that’s final.”

“I got you.” The low voice chimed in.

“Shit, wait. H-hold on a second.” Your eyes widened as they snapped to the one standing next to you, turning into slits as they narrowed. “Corpse don’t you dare—”

He did dare. And out of all the profanities and insults swimming through your slightly jumbled brain, the only thing that came out was:

“Oh.”

[bingoluka]

Need You

Summary: After a case gone wrong, and an injury left unattended, Loki realizes that even Gods need somebody.

Notes: Includes wound depiction and good ole' angst! Also a lil' Wowki but I'm a little bitch baby.

...

When he said it hurt like hell, it hurt like hell.

Each case tended to go wrong in its own unique and terrible way. Whether one of them leaves with a torn shirt and headache, or a deep gash and a broken spirit, one thing was certain; that Mobius and Loki looked out for each other.

Though, Loki would hardly admit he had grown quite fond of the man he called his partner.

Beyond that, he would hardly admit when he really, truly needed his help. He was independent, he knew this, and sometimes asking for the help or pity of another more than once seemed too much mental strain- for both him and whoever had the bad fortune of being alongside him. He hadn't realized the severity of the injury at the time, as a large piece of metal tore away at his abdomen while swimming from an impending tsunami. His magic had already begun to heal him, fixing the initial trauma while the freezing water numbed him.

He has assumed the blood in the water hadn't been his.

Now there he was, wandering aimlessly along the TVA corridors, wishing desperately he could lay his inhibitions to rest all the while sparing his friend the worry. Though, he knew it was unlikely.

The air felt cold against his skin, each step sending a fiery blast of pain across his stomach and up to his back. He grimaced. Pathetic, he thought to himself weakly. Who are you without your power?

"Loki? Loki!"

His voice sounded distant at first, so much he grew concerned he had never heard it at all. A sharp exhale left Loki's mouth as another pang sent shockwaves through his body.

"Oh no- oh no-!"

He stumbled, his legs crossing wildly over each other and he fell into the wall next to him. He began to sink to his knees, the pain becoming overpowering as he fought to stay present. How was it getting worse?

He realized then the wound no longer felt cold. It felt hot, burning as fresh blood spilled from the wound. Loki realized then how little healing had taken place.

"Loki? Hey, hey look at me."

Mobius's voice was soft, calming as it was fearful. Loki wanted to melt into the other, hide from the agony.

"I-I'm sorry," he gasped. "I thought it had healed- I thought- I thought it wasn't this bad-"

"Shh," he whispered, keeping a steady hand on Loki's back. "Loki, can you walk?"

Loki stopped for a moment, his eyes falling to the ground in shame. His breathing was already erratic, jumbling his thoughts and rationality to the point he wasn't sure of anything. He looked up at Mobius now, his eyes scanning his for a sign.

"Come on."

Loki hadn't realized how many people were there with them. Maybe it was adrenaline, or his partial loss of vision from the wound, either way, the voices began to filter in at that moment. Agents and hunters, some workers he had never seen all gathered around them. Mobius had taken one side, while a hunter had him on the other, leading him out of the hall when his body began to go limp. He fought against it, begging himself to stay upright just long enough to prove he was capable. But he wasn't, and they knew this. His knees buckled beneath him, sending both him and the other two staggering forward with an "oh-!"

He could feel them ease him to the ground, pain shooting through him again as he made contact with the floor- causing him to cry out.

"We need to address the wounds here," Mobius said, his voice sharp and heavy. "He's deteriorating, either we let him use magic or we heal him ourselves."

"We can't just let that happen, we have to be outside of the TVA," someone said. "We need to take him somewhere else."

As they spoke, others had taken to pressing against his wound to suppress the bleeding. At first, it was agony. But after a while, he felt a warmth come over his body, a peace he had never felt as the pain melted away. He knew it wasn't supposed to happen, Mobius frantically calling his name being a sure sign, but the relief was something he couldn't deny.

"Loki! Stay with us, come on-"

Before he slipped into sleep, the last thing he saw was Mobius over him, eyes wide and brimming with tears. God, he was tired. But he regretting falling asleep all the same.

...

"If I would've known he was hurt, I wouldn't have taken my eyes off him, what more is there to understand?"

Mobius looked at Renslayer for a moment. Defiance wasn't typically in his nature, though he'll admit his actions spoke otherwise. He was more a calm deviant, not driven by a harsh nature but rather a calm and collected one. She sighed, resting her pointer and thumb on the bridge of her nose.

"I know, I know. But we can't have events like that happen, Mobius. Half our team was distracted, imagine if the variant had struck then?"

"You know I respect you, Renslayer. I really do, I admire you and you know that. But this just seems wrong, he's still a person," Mobius said, frowning. "I know in the grander scheme of things we have a lot to worry about but I saw humanity out there. A collective force of good working toward an unspoken goal."

"Which is?"

"Making sure variant or not, we're taking care of each other."

...

Loki woke on the couch that night.

Wait, couch?

He had expected to still be on the floor. Though he knew Mobius would never, it wasn't out of the picture that another agent might let him stay on the ground. After all, they weren't too fond of him. He went to stretch, the sharp pains from his stomach stopping him in his tracks as he remembered why he was there.

The room was dark, dark enough that beyond his fixed point on the couch, Loki could hardly see a thing. A voice pierced the air, causing him to jump.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

As Loki realized who it was, he sank back into the couch.

"Fine," he mumbled. Mobius raised an eyebrow.

"Really? You didn't seem too fine back there when you were bleeding out in the halls of the TVA."

"Well, I was," Loki snapped, staring up at the ceiling. He realized how foolish he sounded, but at that point, he didn't care.

"Loki, what happened on that mission?" Mobius asked gently, ignoring the other's outburst. Loki sighed a bit, trying to shift his position.

"I didn't-" he cut himself off with a wince as he moved wrong, the pain burning at first, then turning into a dull ache. Mobius looked down at him worriedly.

"I didn't think it was that bad," he said hurriedly. "I was so cold from the water I didn't feel it. I just assumed the blood hadn't been mine."

It was grim. The idea of the blood in the water was so common for that moment, so anticipated that he had nearly bled out yet speculated it was from somebody else. It brought into focus the severity of even human apocalypses.

"But the blood," Mobius said, frowning. "I should have been able to see it on your shirt when we got back. I didn't see any."

"My magic had healed it for the most part," Loki said. "Just not enough. Once I returned it must've begun to reverse."

As Loki spoke, he noticed Mobius reaching for the hem of his shirt. He quickly blocked his hand with an offended "Hey." Mobius chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm just trying to see it, come on."

"You don't need to," Loki glared. But of course his efforts didn't deter Mobius, who kept his steady gaze.

"Loki," he said gently. "Come on, let me see."

Loki sighed, wordlessly lifting the hem of his shirt to reveal the array of wounds, accented by the much larger wound that ran across the bottom of his abdomen. He heard Mobius's breath catch.

"Geez..." He murmured, gently brushing a finger across the uninjured skin, which even then was sore.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked sadly. Loki cast his eyes to the side.

"An unspoken rule amongst warriors in Asgard was to each their own. It wasn't uncommon to receive wounds in battle, it was seen as noble to keep them to yourself."

"Well, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Mobius said with raised eyebrows. He added a hasty, "No offense."

"No, I agree. They were all morons," he said lightheartedly.

Mobius laughed now, bowing his head as he did so. Loki smiled a bit, still somewhat troubled by the pain but not enough to mention it.

"This is your apartment, then?" He said, trying to initiate conversation so Mobius wouldn't see as he began to sit up.

"Hey, not so fast," Mobius said, placing a hand on the small of Loki's back. "Your powers may be back, but you have a ways to go."

"I'm alright, really."

"I'm beginning to think that phrase holds less ethos each time I hear it."

Loki huffed, barely managing to sit all the way up. He looked around the room as his eyes adjusted. It was a small apartment, most of his items being placed in the living area. Books, dusty empty bottles, wooden furniture accented with water stains and loose change. The carpet was plush, he noticed, like something you would see from the nineties. It was all very cozy and welcoming.

"Sorry about the mess," he said, assuming that's what Loki had been looking at. "I didn't really have time to clean."

"Mess?" Loki frowned. "Mobius, you bring me into your home and you really assume I'm going to judge the state of it?"

"Well, to be fair, I don't get a lot of visitors," he smiled. "Now you need some rest, alright?"

If Loki had just an ounce more strength, he would've shot back some snarky response. This time, however, he found himself too tired to think of one, so instead, he flashed a quick smile.

"I'll be here if you need me."

If you need me.

Loki pondered on the words for a while. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the weariness finally catching up with him. Before he never would have admitted he need someone, much less someone with no relation to him. But in that darkened room he gathered he had a change of heart. As he felt himself slowly fading into the warm embrace of sleep, he felt a hand run across his head, gently brushing his unkempt hair back in a stroking motion. He wanted to open his eyes, to see Mobius, but he stayed still just long enough to hear the words,

"Glad you're alright, Lokes."

Before contently falling asleep.

[thunder-at-dawn]

Echos In The Caverns

word count: 2,096

summary: while exploring, tubbo made an incredible discovery, and was desperate to show his best friend in grand-tubbo-fashion! however, that was just the one thing that led them to discover a large problem.

if you couldn’t tell, this fic was heavily inspired by the minecraft caves and cliffs update, i think it turned out nicely :D also if you tag this as ship i will personally hunt you down and whack you with my block button

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

Tubbo_: TOMMY

Tubbo_: TOMMY ARE YOU THERE

Tommyinnit: what

Tubbo_: wheree are u

Tommyinnit: i’m at my house

Tommyinnit: why

Tubbo_: can yoyou come to your hotel

Tubbo_: and wear clothes that you don’t mind getting dirty!!!!!

Tommyinnit: why??

Tubbo_: you’ll see!!!

…What?

Tommy always knew that Tubbo tended to be quite the… holder of schemes. Good schemes? Maybe. Bad schemes? Also maybe. It really just depended on the day. It wasn’t irregular of him to not say what his plans were either, the young boy was often one for surprises.

Tommy looked down at the clothes he was currently wearing. A red and white baseball shirt and some khakis, also known as what he wore pretty much everyday. He had plenty of other shirts and pants that looked similar, (if not, the exact same) so it would be fine if he got just one outfit a little wet.

The young boy headed out of his small residence, which wasn’t at all far from the hotel at all. He walked down the prime path, entering the gate and heading for the front of the hotel, only to see no one there.

“Tubbo? Where are ya, bee boy?” He mumbled under his breath, looking for his best friend. He wandered around to the back… maybe he was there?

And there he was.

Tubbo had his back turned, placing a line of redstone dust along the ground. He stood up, wiping the dust off of his hands, then turned around with a grin.

“Tommy!!” He ran over to his best friend, engulfing the other in a tight hug.

“Tubbo! You’re gonna get fuckin’ redstone dust all over me.” He grumbled, though a smile was on his face. He could feel Tubbo take his hands, guiding him over and walking the two of them next to a lever that wasn’t there the last time Tommy was here.

“Okay, so earlier, I decided to dig straight down, right at this spot.”

“Idiot.” Tommy poked fun at his best friend.

“I thought it would be a bad idea too, but let me finish. Anyways, I just wanted to do it because, y’know, I wanted to see where it would take me! And man, I discovered something incredible, Tommy.” Tubbo turned around leaning down a flipping the switch of the lever.

“So that’s what you’re going to be showing me, right?” Tommy crossed his arms.

“Mhm!” The older of the two stood back up, looking at Tommy with excitement in his eyes. “Just be sure to be prepared for the drop!”

“…The drop? Wh-”

Before Tommy could finish, he heard the sound of pistons and felt the ground disappear underneath him. Before he knew it, the two of them were falling. It was pitch black, and the two of them were falling and screaming. They let out two different screams, Tubbo’s out of thrill and adrenaline and Tommy’s out of pure fear.

It took about ten seconds of falling and screaming for them to finally see light, but Tommy was too terrified to open his eyes. Instead, he was met with the chilling feeling of cold water. Panicked, he opened his eyes as much as he could and swam to the surface, gasping for air.

“TUBBO! WHAT THE FUCK?!” He yelled at the other, who had also risen from the surface. “What the fuck was that for?! You can’t just make us drop like that with no warning, I thought we were gonna die! I-“

“Oh, quit whining and swim to the shore!” Tubbo brushed him off. Tommy huffed, but obeyed, throwing his arms in front of him to propel him forward. Tubbo got to the shore first, and pulled him out of the water.

“Tubbo, why the fuck did you think that was a good idea?!”

“Tommy- Tommy, calm down. One, I would never kill you on purpose. And two, this was the easiest and quickest way down! Anyways, look behind you. Turn around.” Tubbo said to him. Tommy rolled his eyes and turned, expecting nothing grand, but his eyes widened in shock.

It was the most incredible thing he had ever seen.

A roaring waterfall poured water into the lake they had just dropped into, and sides of the waterfall were lined with purple gemstones. Ores lined the stone walls and lush moss covered the ceiling, draping down. Small, jagged rocks on the ceiling were covered by moss, and it looked like someone, likely Tubbo, had placed torches and lanterns around the area.

“What… What is this?” Tommy asked, jaw agape.

“What you’re looking at is the coolest cave the two of us will ever lay eyes upon.” Tubbo grinned, placing a hand on Tommy’s wet shoulder.

“…Holy shit, Tubbo! This is fucking incredible! A-And you found this just through digging down?!”

“Yep! Now come on, there’s tons of cool things here that you gotta see!” The ram hybrid grabbed Tommy’s hand, running around the lake and dragging him along.

Tommy honestly wasn’t sure if he had ever seen anything this amazing before. He got to climb hills of stone and ore, swim in the grand lake, and he and Tubbo even found an axolotl! They took it in a bucket with water, and since it was pink, they agreed on the name of “Technoblade Jr.”

Eventually though, all good things had to come to an end. The torches wouldn’t fend off monsters forever, so the two of them decided it was best to go back to the surface. Tubbo said that he had dug out a staircase through the stone that led to the surface, somewhere near Eret’s castle.

There was only one small problem. They couldn’t find it.

“I-It should be this way!”

“Tubbo, we’ve been down here for, like- for fuckin’ ever!”

“Okay, we’ve been here for a few hours at the most. And majority of that isn’t even us searching for the stairs.” Tubbo rolled his eyes.

Tommy sighed as he and Tubbo only found another dead end, a wall covered in vines and moss. “Face it, Tubbo. We’re lost. We’re fuckin’ lost, and we’re going to have to spend the night here.” He set a torch on the wall, taking a moment to sit down.

“Oh, don’t say that, Tommy!” His friend sat down next to him on the ground. Tommy crossed his arms, looking away and making Tubbo frown. “Look, we can always make a new staircase! It’ll take a while, but we can do it!” He nudged Tommy lightly with his elbow, but only got more of the silent treatment.

Tubbo huffed in annoyance. Tommy tended to get silent when things didn’t go his way, which was understandable. But it would get frustrating to Tubbo sometimes, he wouldn’t lie. And what’s worse was that he could clearly tell that Tommy was upset, and he wasn’t saying anything about it. He lightly leaned against Tommy’s shoulder, the silence being oddly comforting for a moment.

Tubbo stood up, leaving Tommy to mope by himself. He had to admit, this was a cool place to be lost in. The sights were incredible, and there were so many things he hadn’t found in caves before. Glowing squids, axolotls, crystals, cave vines…

Cave vines.

That’s it! He knew exactly what would cheer Tommy up! Why didn’t he think of this sooner?

Tubbo walked towards the longest vine he could find that draped from the stone ceiling, standing on his toes to pull it down and grinning as the vine snapped in two. He threaded the vine through his fingers, glad to find that it wasn’t rough and didn’t have anything sharp on it. He sat down next to Tommy, holding the vine in his hands.

“Tommy…” He leaned towards his friend, still not getting a response. Quietly, he draped the vine around Tommy’s neck. The other noticed, but said nothing. That is, not until his shoulders scrunched up when he felt Tubbo pull the vine across his neck.

“Tubbo-” He said softly, slamming his lips shut afterwards.

“What’s up, Tommy?” He asked, lightly scratching the other’s neck with his fingers.

“Where’s that smile, big man?” Tubbo used his other hand to poke his friend in the side a couple of times, grinning as he saw a smile start to form at the corner of Tommy’s lips.

“Tuhubbo, quihit it!” He giggled, starting to move away before Tubbo wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, trapping him in a half-hug.

“There we go!” Tubbo scribbled his fingers across Tommy’s stomach, making the young boy squeal and bury his head into Tubbo’s shoulder as an attempt to hide his face. Tommy laughed, trying to grab at Tubbo’s hands.

“Don’t even try to fight back, mister.” He rolled his eyes. “I wanna make sure that you keep smiling! These caves are no place to be sad!”

“TuHUHUB- *snrk* TUHUBBO! Dohohon’t!” Tommy snorted, eventually grabbing onto one of Tubbo’s wrists. Tubbo brought his other hand back to drill his fingers back into Tommy’s stomach, the other laughing and eventually grabbing onto Tubbo’s other wrist. Both of them grinned as residual laughter spilled out of Tommy’s mouth.

“You’re so fuckin’ mean.” Tommy huffed out, unable to fight a grin.

“Oh, come on, you were sad! What else am I supposed to do, not what I do whenever you’re sad?” Tubbo rolled his eyes, smirking. “Besides, you didn’t fight back. We know you liked it.”

Tommy blinked, feeling his cheeks warm up, then narrowed his eyes. “Oh, you’re asking for it.” He growled, holding the other’s hands above his head.

Tubbo squeaked, already starting to squirm. “Wahait, no! Nonono, dohon’t!” He said, unable to stop giggles from coming out from hiding.

“Aww, what’s wrong, Tubbo? Are you scared? Scared of just a little tiny bit of tickling?” Tommy smirked, holding his wrists firmly and letting go, shooting his hands into his friend’s underarms. Tubbo immediately broke, instantly leaning towards the ground to try and get away.

“NoHOHO- gehehehet oHOHOut of thehehere!” Tubbo giggled, twisting his body to try and push off Tommy’s hands.

“You did the exact same to me! It’s only natural to expect revenge!” Tommy scribbled more rapidly, grinning as the other squealed and started to kick his legs. “Wow, Tubbo. Sometimes, I honestly forget how fuckin’ ticklish you are. And then I rediscover it for myself, and I remember just how ballistic you go every time!”

“ShUHUT UHUhup, yohou dihiHIhick!” The ram hybrid yelled through giggles.

“Hey! Well that’s just rude now, isn’t it? Guess you need to learn a lesson, huh?” Tommy asked, chuckling as Tubbo rapidly shook his head. Tommy started to squeeze up and down his thighs, and the other squealed, throwing his head back and hugging himself.

“TOHOhoHOmMY!! NohohoHOHO!!”

“Oh, you brought this onto yourself, don’t even try to “Tommy, no” me!” Tommy played around, trying to see what would work back. Squeezing the back of Tubbo’s thighs made him squeak, squeezing rapidly up and down made him squeal, and raking nails up and down the inner thighs made him cackle.

“TOHOHOMMY!! PleheHEAHase, I- StohoHOhop!!” Tubbo rocked back and forth.

“Hmmm… alright.” Tommy said after a moment of thinking, drawing his hands back.

“Wahait, really?” A giggly Tubbo was quite surprised, starting to sit up.

“…No.” Tommy smirked, suddenly pushing the other’s shirt up, leaning down, and blowing a raspberry on his bare stomach. Tubbo shrieked, retreating back to the ground instantaneously.

“NOHOHOHO- AHAHAHAHA!!! TOHOHOHOMMEHEY!!!” Tubbo squirmed around, trying to get away as Tommy now scribbled and clawed as his stomach with all ten fingers. His laughter echoed throughout the caves, filling Tommy with glee.

“Come on, you deserve this for all of the times you got back at me!” His friend grinned, leaning down to blow another raspberry right onto Tubbo’s belly button. The ram’s laughter went silent momentarily, then came back in the form of cackles with hiccups mixed in. Tommy stopped, laughing softly and ruffling Tubbo’s hair.

“You feeling better, big man?” Tubbo asked with a stupidly large grin on his face.

“Much better.” Tommy grinned, standing up and extending a hand towards his friend, helping him off of the ground. “Now, come on, grab your pickaxe. That staircase isn’t gonna build itself now, innit?”

Tubbo nodded, pulling out a pickaxe and starting to help Tommy dig out a path to the surface. He looked behind him one last time, deciding that he needed to come back here again sometime with Tommy, and maybe some other friends.

After all, it’s good to go back to places that bring you happy memories, right?

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers being Soft for Their Daughters 

Might just be me but I think there's nothing cuter than a Dad who loves his daughter so I made a hc for our boys. Strap in, it’s a long one! 

IMPORTANT! Watch out for first half spoilers! Assumed that the child is a half human/half demon with the MC!

Lucifer

Tries to be really strict but ends up being kind of a pushover.

Oh there ARE rules that even his little girl can't break, but most of the time she can get away with almost anything if she's cute clever enough.

Pushes her to be the best at almost anything she tries, expectations be real high; gonna take the MC stepping in to remind him winning isn't everything and please cool it on the pressure.

Lowkey learned his lesson before and doesn't want to make another Satan situation so tries to take MC's advice to heart and not be quite so controlling.

Her favorite uncle is Mammon and he gets cold sweats about this every night.

Wasn't able to be there for a lot of her firsts due to work and gets real sulky when he misses out. Videos just don't offer the same experience...

Feels bad that work keeps him so busy so he tries to make up for it with toys, clothes, jewelry, pretty much whatever she likes at the time.

Would never admit it, but his black heart melts every time he comes home and sees she's excitedly waiting by the door.

One of those parents who will never stop bragging about how amazing their kid is to anyone who will listen, but never when she's in the same room.

100% that overprotective "I'm going to give you a brief tour of the torture chamber, then we’ll browse my whip collection. Oh, make sure she's home by 8" kind of dad if she were to ever bring home a date. They will know that his baby is not to be messed with (like anyone's crazy enough to try honestly).

Mammon

So over the goddamn moon that someone actually wanted to have a kid with him that he couldn't shut up about it for weeks.

Treasures his little girl more than anything he owns, even Goldie. When she's a baby the two of them are practically inseparable.

The biggest pushover to ever be pushed. She's about the only person he's ever unconditionally generous to and he really spoils her rotten.

She's just as materialistic as her father, honestly, but MC made sure their girl was raised with good morals. The first of which being no stealing. Ever. She works for every cent she spends.

On the one hand, he's actually pretty damn proud and relieved that she won't be called "scum" or anything like her father, but on the other hand like… Ew. Who raised you? (No one remind him it’s kind of his doing anyway).

For once in his greedy existence, he can tell a sob story about really needing that loan or those shoes for his beloved daughter and actually mean it… most of the time 😏

Even when she's young, though, she will ask him if a gift he's giving her was taken from someone else and, man, he cannot lie to her face. People shame him for stealing all the time but the little look of disappointment she gives him hurts WAY more than all of his brothers’ insults combined.

Probably one of the most supportive and involved dads in existence. He will be at every game, every recital, every meet. Even if he's complaining the whole time, if anyone so much as suggests that he just shouldn't go he'd be appalled.

…. He's perhaps a little too involved because he's also totally the kind of father who will lowkey stalk his daughter's dates to be sure nothing bad happens. MC, please step in. She needs privacy too.

Leviathan

Was incredibly worried about having a kid, he's not even had the best track record when it comes to pets and parenting is some high-level normie stuff. But his little girl's first smile absolutely melted his doubts away.

That being said… he's still not the greatest with little kids. For a long time if the baby so much as sneezed unexpectedly he'd start shouting for the MC and checking every website he can like??? My half demon baby won't stop sneezing, is it pneumonia???

Gets a lot less panicky as the child gets older, but in those early years he'd practically want to stick them in a bubble wrap suit.

He passed on his love of the ocean and underwater creatures pretty early on. The running joke is that his girl knew how to swim before she knew how to crawl.

Family aquarium trips are an absolute must.

The second they're old enough to understand plot he's introducing them to his favorite shows, but only the best (and most child-friendly) ones of course. He wants his daughter to grow into a woman of culture, damnit! Pop culture that is.

Sooo much text/chat lingo between these two. It's not her fault really. She was bound to pick it up but man can it sound like they're speaking tongues at times.

With practice she can and will beat her old man at most video games and, yes, it makes his cry tears of equal parts pride and aggravation.

Has a mini-panic attack every time she hits a new milestone, like, yes he's so fucking proud but also don't you think she's growing up too fast??? MY BABY GIRL!!! 😭😭😭

Cries like a baby to the MC when she goes out on her first date because he realized she's really, truly, growing up and he's afraid his little girl isn't going to want to spend time with her lame old dad anymore.

Satan

Tries to be strict and IS strict but mostly on schoolwork.

Her grades best not be slippin' or this Book Papa will take all her stuff away. End of discussion.

Otherwise, he's surprisingly chill being the Avatar of Wrath and all. He of all people understands the desire to just have your own life and do your own thing.

She'll inherit his temper though, that's a given, and if they both get going then watch out. Fights between them can get verbally explosive, but never physical. Even at his angriest Satan would never once lay a hand on his daughter.

Read to her every night when she was young: storybooks, novels, mythologies, didn't matter to him. Whatever she wanted to hear. Still, he was so proud the day she told him that she wanted to read on her own.

100% makes nearly everything in life a teachable lesson but also helps her when she needs it. He wants her to forge her own path but is still very supportive when the situation calls for it.

Would never EVER admit it, but he does just as many dad jokes as Lucifer.

Of all the brothers, he's probably the most typical father to have, there for his kid just enough while also making sure they're not getting away with murder.

Is totally chill with her dating because he knows he doesn’t have to be super protective of her. She can more than handle herself if something goes wrong, in fact, if he were to step in it would probably add insult to their already grievance injury.

That being said, he IS the Avatar of Wrath. If someone hurts his girl he’s going to have a turn one way or another.

Asmodeus

Oh YEEESSS, he's not normally the commitment kind of guy but he and MC raising a child? They'd be the most gorgeous thing in the universe!!! (Not counting himself of course)

Beautifying his baby since day one, but the MC keeps him from doing anything too extreme. A lot of baths, good moisturizer, hairstyling (when she grows enough of it), etc.

Soooo many outfits. She'll practically never wear the same thing twice and Asmo coordinates his own clothes to match hers all the time.

He actually goes out and parties LESS if you can believe it, especially when she's young and needs a lot of supervision. But he'll get pent up real quick so learning how to do a quiet quickie during naptime is a must.

His girl is all over his Devilgram, nearly every milestone is snapped up and recorded. He loves her more than anything and would just scream about his pride and joy from the rooftops if social media didn't provide him that outlet.

Makes sure his daughter knows that she is gorgeous, she is loved, and passes on every bit of self-confidence he has. Doesn't matter if she grows up a girly-girl, tomboy, or anything else under the sun. When you're feeling good just being you, heads will turn on their own accord!

Not the best at discipline and would only really step in if he thinks she's being a real jerk about something. Day to day attitude adjustments are totally up to the MC.

He is, however, the best sex-ed teacher one could ever ask for and makes sure his daughter knows there's no shame in what comes natural, just be sure you're respectful and responsible!

Completely unfazed when the suitors began lining up, I mean she is HIS daughter. It was inevitable. Offers tips and advice when he can but lets her go off and experiment naturally. Young love is a beautiful thing! (Just don't break his girl's heart though because he may lowkey curse your whole bloodline)

Beelzebub 

….. MC, you're going to be eaten out of house and home.

Though his daughter's appetite isn't AS bad as his, Beel could tell it's going to be an issue from day one but he's ready for it.

Dedicates his freaking life to being sure she never goes one night hungry. He'll cook, he'll shop, he'll even share from his own plate if he has to. The thought of her going through anywhere near the level of starvation he feels on a daily basis is enough to crush his soul (if he has one)

You better bet there will be eating competitions. She never wins, but the fact she can even get close will have him grinning anyway.

That being said, he will push for a healthy and active lifestyle for her too. 

Highkey wants her playing sports and doing team activities because he genuinely thinks it will help her stay healthy and make friends.

Just the right amount of discipline. Tries to be understanding but also knows when to call a spade, a spade and express his disapproval.

Very in-tune to her emotions and her needs even if he can’t quite grasp WHY she's feeling the way she is. Keeping up with teen drama is going to be the bane of his existence...

Uncle Belphie=That one cool uncle who lets you get away with anything and probably gives out sugar after bedtime.

One of the only brothers who makes a point of his daughter also seeing and exploring her human heritage too and not just treating her like a pseudo-demon… And it's totally not just for the added excuse of sampling human world cuisine, like, come on who do you take him for? 🤫

Somewhat cautious about her dating, but ultimately just wants her to be happy. He'll usually trust her judgment but he's pretty good at reading someone's character and if he gets real bad vibes from anyone he's not above telling her, "No. Not that one." Whether or not he's listened to depends on the situation.

Belphegor

Lol MC, you could have picked a much better choice. Borderline Deadbeat/Cool Dad here!

Kids… not his thing. He doesn't dislike them exactly, they're just a lot of work and he's sort of allergic to that. He's more of a semi-irresponsible babysitter type.

Case in point, "Belphie, watch the baby" becomes "Belphie, if you're going to take a nap at least hold onto her leg so she doesn't go anywhere."

Only saving grace is she takes after him so most days she's pretty dang sleepy too. Naptime is a good third of the daily routine (not that anyone is complaining).

Shit at discipline because, like, what leg does he have to stand on? If she wants to ditch class, why not let her? Once or twice ain't that bad.

Takes her on a lot of "field trips" to the human world like he would with Lilith. Genuinely wants her to experience both sides of her identity and encourages her to explore her human side just as much as her demon.

The kind of chill dad that you feel comfortable going to when you've got to talk out a problem or need life advice. He might not be able to offer many answers, but he tries in his own way.

Will prank his kid and will not feel sorry, but is never cruel about it. In fact, this will only spur on a mutual prank war between the two.

Uncle Beel=that genuinely nice uncle who tries to teach you life lessons and how to take care of yourself… while also eating a ton of food.

Would be super confused at first if she started dating like?? How? He kind of sees her like a mini-him at times and his human came to him. Since when did she stay awake long enough to leave the house?? But otherwise he goes with the flow. Whatever she wants, her life.

He might get a bit more agitated if she starts to date a human, like, lowkey bad flashbacks to the whole Lilith situation and the MC would probably have to cool his jets about it. Different circumstances after all.

[thefanficmonster]

Finally, You’re Back

Part 1: ‘There You Are’

Karl Heisenberg (Resident Evil 8: Village) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of Injury and Human Experimentation, Insecurity, Swearing, Spoilers for RE8

Genre: Angst, Romance, Some Humor and Fluff too

Summary: And there they are, back in that village half a decade later to retrieve what’s theirs but unaware of what they’ll find in place of what they remember.

Requested by one Anon and the idea was modified by another Anon, so thank you both so much for sharing your creativity with me, it’s really been a huge honor to write a fic inspired by such a beautiful idea. Love you both! 💕

If again is what he hoped and prayed for, why is he damning it now Why does he resent himself for having hope When he previously wished nothing but to have it Why does their presence hurt When it used to heal him Why do they remind him of how much of a monster he is When previously they were the only one making him human Why is he worthy of their presence When he’s only become worse They upheld their promise But the person they are coming back to is no longer alive He’s taken his place and he hates himself for it He’d kill himself to get him back He’d do just about anything Just to prevent those eyes from seeing them differently Just so he can greet them with open arms and say:

“Finally, you’re back“

But as of now all he can say is:

“You’re back, but the one you’re searching for will never return“

He was made aware of their presence the day of their arrival in the village. He knew all about their venture, going around the village asking for him to be looked at with terror by the villagers they came across. He watched as all the people refused to tell them his whereabouts, claiming they didn’t know or they couldn’t tell. No matter what bribery or convincing method Y/N tried to use, the villagers refused to stand down from their determined ground.

They refused to give up though, going against his prayers that they would. They might have felt discouraged but they never, not even for a second, thought to give it up. Never did they even consider forgetting him as an option. It’s been half a decade and they still remember him, they still have the will to look for him despite all the time that has passed, despite the odds that aren’t in their favor, despite the lack of help from anyone.

They keep going, keep trying. They keep driving the sword deeper into his chest, piercing his heart.

If only they could accept me like this. If only they could look at a monster the same way they looked at that boy they met five years ago...

His mistake, although blatantly obvious even to him, is not something he’s willing to correct. He doesn’t want to give them a chance. And the answer to the question many - even he himself - would ask ‘why’, that answer he doesn’t want revealed.

Because he knows it and would do anything in his power to keep it from swimming to the surface.

The answer? - It’s because he’s afraid. Terrified really.

What of? That’s the part he’s not sure about. Is he afraid of them being scared, disgusted and repulsed by him? Or is he afraid of the complete opposite - that they won’t bat an eye at the change he’s undergone. That latter option leaves him with a bitter taste in his mouth, his stomach turning. He doesn’t believe he deserves that reaction, after all he’s done, after becoming the monster he is now, he’s done his best to not even think about them - attempts that have failed miserably. Not a day has gone by that they haven’t been on his mind. He thought getting rid of the dog tag necklace - the promise - would cleanse his system of their memory that’s etched itself so deeply within his mind and soul but his hands refused to cooperate when his brain kept telling them to lift that necklace off his neck. He couldn’t do it, and he hated himself because of it for a while, but if he’s being honest he felt more relieved than anything else. He doesn’t want the only real memory, the only pleasant memory of his human days gone. He doesn’t want to wipe Y/N from his mind, they’re the only thought that still sends his heartbeat speeding in a positive way. He knows he’s a coward for what he does, hiding in the shadows and watching them waste their time with the villagers who think they are downright insane for going around looking for Karl Heisenberg whom the entire village knows as Lord Heisenberg. Not using his title each time they ask never fails to bring a smile to his face. It’s a relief that they at least have a nice picture of him that has stuck with them. And if it’s up to him, that’s the picture that will remain, they won’t see him like this, this new him won’t replace the old him in their mind. He’d do anything to make sure of it.

That being said, you can imagine the massive shock and mini heart attack he experienced one day when his motion detectors picked up on someone entering the factory in broad daylight. Rushing to the camera display, the briefest glimpse was enough to make out who this foolish person looking for their death was. 

Goddammit, Y/N!

It was no longer a danger to his sanity, their presence at the factory was an even worse danger for them. His creations wouldn’t think twice about slicing their tiny frame in half with their implemented chainsaws, designed to do exactly what he’s hoping they won’t get the chance to do this time. Running to the elevator, all he can do is silently pray he reaches them before they come across one of his minions.

What he’s going to say to them? How he’s gonna greet them? He hasn’t got the slightest clue, all he knows is that he has to get to them asap.

Running out of the elevator once it settles on the ground floor, he almost crashes directly into them, eyes wide with shock as the adrenaline is still pumping throughout his body despite the immense amount of relief he feels wash over him. He doesn’t notice at first, but when he does his heart sinks: their gaze is empty and their face unreadable. He can’t bear to have them looking at him like that, it hurts more than physically hitting him. Hell, it hurts more than the experiments Miranda did to him.

“How’d you find me?“ He decides to end the silence for his sanity’s sake, his heart heavy and aching in his chest.

They shrug, “Wasn’t easy, I’ll have to admit, you’ve trained the villagers well, none of em wanted to give me even a clue.“ They give him a small smile before looking around at the factory walls and everything lining them, “And then I put it together on my own. It was a bit of a stretch...“ they trail off, their eyes scanning him from head to toe, “...but I see it was a lucky one.“

He can’t help but huff, more out of disgust for himself than anything else, “If you call this lucky you’ve gotta have a few screws loose.”

Much to his surprise, this remark earns him a genuine, wholehearted laugh from Y/N, “Oh Karl, didn’t you pick up on my loose screws back when we first met? That’s odd, people usually take one look and can already tell.”

He scoffs, letting a small smile slip onto his face before he chases it away, forcing himself to maintain the seriousness, “I can’t believe how foolish you are. Didn’t you, even for a second, think there was maybe a good reason why people didn’t want to give you my whereabouts?”

“Oh I didn’t need to think about it!“ They say, lifting a pointer finger in the air as if to emphasize their point, “They were pretty clear when they were calling you stuff like ‘monster’ and ‘cruel Lord’ or whatever.“

Heisenberg’s eyes widen in an instant, “So you knew? You knew I was...I wouldn’t be the same as you remember me?” He asks, his jaw almost reaching the floor.

They nod nonchalantly, “I mean, I was sure of that part, it’s been half a decade, after all. Of course, I didn’t expect such a drastic change but it changes nothing. The villagers made it all sound super scary and dramatic...”

Karl doesn’t get confused often. However, right now, they’ve got him completely flabbergasted. “You were told about me...about me being what I am and you still showed up and walked into this place everyone fears like you own it? Where the fuck is your self-preservation instinct?!”

With an eye-roll, Y/N pushes past him, entering the elevator and walks over to the buttons to choose a floor, “Up your ass, Heisenberg. Right next to the stick that’s got you in such a foul mood. Is this how you welcome back an old friend?” Though the words themselves were harsh, they spoke them in such a way and with a sincere look in their eyes that they had the complete opposite effect of what they’d usually have. Hell, he wants to laugh at the vocabulary on its own, it’s so refreshing to hear someone use those terms and speak so freely around him, unfazed by his powers. To be fair, they’re probably not even aware he has any.

Looking at them now, their intense gaze telling him loud and clear that they’re completely unfazed, has him going soft. They’re still his connection to the humanity he’s lost, he’s still clinging onto it thanks to them. And while he still believes he doesn’t deserve to preserve any last piece of it, he’s glad that he’s not the judge of that. The punishment is not his to decide. It’s theirs. And who knows, allowing him to keep a tiny fragment of his humanity may be the ultimate punishment but he doesn’t know it yet. Regardless, he’s happy with it as long as it means he has them by his side to carry said punishment out.

When all they get in response to their words is a laugh they too let a smile lighten up their features, “There you go, knock some humor into you.” They turn to look at the buttons briefly before locking their gaze onto him once again, “I like what you did with the place. Care to show me around?”

He shakes his head as his laughter dies down, “You won’t like it.”

Y/N rolls their eyes yet again, “Leave that up for me to decide, old man.”

A frown comes across Heisenberg’s face, “Old man? How dare you?”

The sound of their laughter almost manages to wipe the frown off his face. Almost. “Old man who can pull off even a century old dog tag necklace.” They say, sizing up the necklace resting over his chest which he automatically reaches out to touch as a result of her remark. “You can keep it, by the way. I don’t need it back. I’ll be sticking around for some time after all.”

Before he can even process what they said, they’ve pulled him into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, looking out of the open side of it to be able to see the inside of the factory as the metal box keeps climbing, carrying them with it. Their back is turned to him so he can’t see the look on their face but he can only hope it’s not one of horror or disgust. If he were to receive that look from them his heart would shatter on the spot. So he’d rather they don’t turn around - both for him not to be able to see them grimacing and so they can’t see him staring at them with that look in his eyes.

Look of adoration he’s never given anyone before nor will he ever give to anyone else. And so, all the pieces of his soul have found their proper spots.

Thanks to Y/N.

Finally, you’re back.

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.10 [M]

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

↳ (4.2k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating: unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, body insecurity (result of physical markings), slight body worship, hints of sexual tension

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

➟ Last Update: Friday, February 19

The moment your eyes catch onto a patch of black hair within the crowd, you freeze in place. 

Jung Hoseok appears just as you remember him. Lips tugged up into a playful smile, mischief dancing in his eyes and adorned in a black suit that easily conceals away any weaponry he stows away. Despite his traits, the sleek material fails to hide the circles lining his twinkling eyes, his posture sunken and suit appearing oversized as if he had lost some weight with time. 

You decipher his appearance within seconds, and when your observant eyes snap over to Namjoon, you already know he’s done the same. 

The two of you stay stationed in the corner, afar from the crowd. Jimin stands off to the corner opposite you as Seokjin darts his eyes around, taking careful steps towards the shareholder before he decides to engage with him. 

There’s a whimsical expression on Seokjin’s features that mimics Hoseok, hands curved around a glass of champagne that he raises. 

“Jung Hoseok.” He counters, “I haven’t seen you around in quite some time.” 

Hoseok turns, a crease in between the brows from the sudden call of his name, but once his eyes come into contact with Seokjin’s, his regular demeanor shifts back. 

“Since you know my name along with my record, why don’t you tell me where you know me from?” 

Seokjin smiles, “You’re one of Kim Namjoon’s shareholders, right?” 

There’s a glint in Hoseok’s eyes and his grin immediately falls, something that has Seokjin’s eyes narrowing, before it abruptly returns. 

“I am.” 

Seokjin hums, “It was just a question, no need to get so surprised.” He leans forward, eyes hardening as his voice drops into a whisper, “Unless, there is some reason for you to be….” 

Hoseok grits his teeth, looking away for a moment. His disdain is heavy and he glares at Seokjin, who slyly smiles back. 

“What do you know?” 

A light chuckle leaves Seokjin, “I think the question you should be asking is, what do I not know?” 

He reaches into the inner pocket of his suit, revealing a creased piece of paper that he hands to Hoseok. The latter tilts his head, unfolding the sheet that reveals a photograph.

Hoseok’s eyes widen, “If you need to recall the memory, his name is Kim Minhyuk.” Seokjin sips his champagne as he whispers, eyeing the shareholder, “Strange for someone of your status to be interacting with someone that has been known to get his hands dirty for the right price, don’t you think?” 

The paper is instantly crumbled within his hands, and Hoseok snarls at him, “How much?” 

Seokjin glances at him intrigued, “What? Money?” He snorts, “Oh, it’s going to take much more to silence me.” 

Hoseok fists up his jacket, “Listen here‒” 

“I wouldn’t ruin the suit, it was fairly costly for what it was worth.” Seokjin gestures to his hold and Hoseok let's go in annoyance. 

“Who are you working for?” 

A smirk spreads across Seokjin’s features. 

“Turn around.” 

The sound of a deep voice from behind Hoseok startles him, and as he does as he’s told, all the colour instantly drains from his features. 

Namjoon tilts his head to the side, piercing eyes scrutinizing the shareholder. 

Immediately, an excuse tumbles out. “N-Namjoon! I-I didn’t think you would be here….” 

“Of course you didn’t,” He smirks, “I’m alive after all.” 

If Hoseok was scared before, he was downright terrified now. 

Namjoon steps forward, and Hoseok bolts. 

Seokjin whips his head around and Jimin immediately leaves his corner, running after him. Hoseok pushes past protesting guests without any qualms, sprinting into one of the hallways as Jimin pursues him. 

“This way!” Jimin hastily shouts. His brows suddenly contort with surprise, but then he curses underneath his breath as Hoseok slips from his sight, completely disappearing. 

Namjoon hurriedly rushes forward a bit late, peering in both directions. 

“Where is he?” Seokjin wonders and Jimin rubs his temples, squinting in the direction. 

“There was a woman.” He abruptly whispers, glancing at the two, “I saw them together before her and Hoseok split apart into different paths.”

“A woman?” Seokjin wonders. 

“I know.” Jimin muses, “She looked young, but I wasn’t too sure.” 

“So he wasn’t choosing to run away, but instead ran to someone…” Seokjin slowly utters, shaking his head, “Whatever it is, we have to find him.” 

“Don’t worry.” Namjoon states, a twinkle in his dark eyes, “He won’t get too far.”

***

Hoseok runs as fast as he can, sweat beginning to trickle down his features. He peers behind himself, acclaiming himself of at least getting away in time. 

Abruptly, he’s sent flying towards the ground. His hands barely break his fall, harshly slamming right against it. 

The sound of a trigger cocking alerts him, and right as he glances up, the sight of a gun pointed towards his head. 

You stare down at him with a triumphant expression. 

Hoseok grits his teeth, a sound of dismay leaving him. You reach down, grabbing onto his hands before securing them behind his back. 

You soon catch sight of Seokjin from afar and you usher towards him as Namjoon and Jimin follow behind. 

As Seokjin helps you lift him from the ground, his eyes are frantically darting around, as if searching for something. 

“What wrong?” Seokjin wonders, “Lose something?” 

Hoseok sneers, “Like I’ll tell you anything.” 

Seokjin smiles, tightening his hold, “We’ll see how long you can keep that up.” 

Night falls as Namjoon paces back and forth in the hallway, fiddling around with the hem of his sleeve. The door to his right abruptly widens, a tired Seokjin emerging out. 

He instantly steps forward and Seokjin sighs, “He kept true to his word.” 

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, “He’s not talking?” 

Seokjin hums, “A lot more stubborn than I gave him credit for.” He gestures towards the door, “Jimin’s still there with hopes of getting something out, but he’s holding onto everything as if his life is on the line.” 

“That’s odd,” He whispers, “If being threatened to force out information isn’t horrible enough, I wonder what is…” 

“I agree, it seemed like he had a lot to tell me before, but now…” Seokjin shakes his head, “Maybe he thinks we’ll hesitate in killing him.” 

There’s a sharp glint in Namjoon’s eyes, “Have you told him otherwise?” 

Seokjin snorts, “No, but he isn’t wrong.” He adds, “We do need him to tell us about his connections.” 

Namjoon hums and the door cranks open again as Jimin emerges out. Both him and Seokjin turn at the same time, glancing at the man’s distressed appearance. 

“Nothing so far,” He huffs for a moment, before staring at the two of them peculiarly, “But he said one thing that’s been bothering me a lot.” 

“What?” Seokjin wonders. 

Jimin stands up straighter, bafflement crossing him. 

“He said we’re fools for thinking that he’s the one pulling the strings.”

Seokjin scrunches up his nose and Namjoon cocks his head to the side, clearly as perplexed as Jimin from the saying. 

“That’s it?” Namjoon asks. 

Jimin sighs, “That’s it.” 

“Well, this just got a lot more damn complicated.” Seokjin shakes his head, before gesturing to Jimin, “Take a break, I’ll have to spend a couple more hours with him to get something else out.” 

Jimin nods, fatigued from the demanding interactions. 

Once Jimin leaves, Namjoon’s voice drops into a whisper, “We’re fools for thinking he’s the one pulling the strings….” 

Seokjin narrows his eyes and lets out a sigh, mind still swimming with the response. “As if suggesting that he’s innocent….” 

“Maybe it's the woman.” Namjoon’s eyes snap up as Seokjin reminds him, “Hoseok’s first instinct was to run to her.” 

He nods, “Though I don’t think we can trust him on this, he could be trying to cover himself up. Or someone else, for that matter.” 

Namjoon hums, fingers pressed against his lips as he dwells deeper into thought. Seokjin leans over, patting his back and his eyes peer up at him.  

“Why don’t you go get some rest? This whole fiasco won’t be figured out until he talks and that...might take a while.” 

He gestures to the gun sticking out from his jacket and Namjoon lets out a frustrated sigh from the notion. 

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” He wonders. 

Seokjin softly shakes his head, “He’ll talk with the right persuasion, trust me. And besides….” 

There’s a small smirk lingering on Seokjin’s lips, playfulness practically twinkling in his eyes. He points upward, gesturing to the upper floor. 

“Y/N actually left a couple of minutes ago.” 

At the mere mention of your name, there’s a flush that scatters over Namjoon, skin nearly akin to being feverish. Seokjin’s smile widens, restraining a small laugh that seeks to slip out of his mouth. 

“I-Is that so?” Namjoon mumbles, his eyes darting everywhere. When they connect with Seokjin’s, he sheepishly laughs, “I, uh‒ suppose you’re right.” 

Seokjin hums, but he can’t conceal the amused smile that crosses him. 

Bidding his friend good luck, Namjoon gyrates around, promptly heading to his room as fast as he can. 

***

Namjoon’s eyes are glued to the sight of the door. 

He’s reached his room, pupils having traced the outlines and shape of the wood, handle practically right in front of him ‒ but he remains planted in place, as if someone had poured lead into his shoes. 

His hand reaches up, rubbing against his temples as a sigh leaves him.

The last time you were in a room together he could barely control himself. And this time, standing right in front of your shared room’s door, he knows that control is on the edge of completely shattering. 

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, he peers at the door again and takes a deep breath. 

His hand reaches out for the handle. 

He quietly walks in, hastily ensuring the door is fully closed before saying anything. Turning around, there’s a soft smile on his lips, warmth brimming in his eyes. 

“Y/N, I‒” 

His breath instantly hitches, form completely freezing. 

Your startled eyes snap up in an instant. There’s drops of water falling from the strands of your hair onto the damp carpet, one of your hands resting against the wall next to a small door to your left. Your other hand is tightly fisting the material of the long towel that covers your form, struggling to keep it in place. 

At the sight of Namjoon gawking, you fumble with your words, “N-Namjoon….I-I didn’t think you would be back s-so soon…” 

A light chuckle leaves you, a fevernet shade of scarlet taking over your features. He continues to stare at you, and you break into a fit of rambles to explain the situation. 

“I-I’ve been having a hard time bathing!” You laugh again, “So I tried to quickly wash up before bed, but it’s been difficult….moving around and whatnot…” 

Your eyes are fixated on the ground, barely able to meet his own through your explanation. It feels like an eternity until Namjoon finally clears his throat, the sound of his footsteps growing louder. 

He’s a mere inches away from you, outstretching his arm, “Let me help you.” 

Nothing seems to leave your lips at the suggestion. You hastily nod, still unable to make eye contact as you reach out and grasp onto his sleeve. However the moment you do so, you unfortunately can’t stop to take notice of the way one of his hands slips behind you to steady your back. 

A sudden rush of heat is brought upon on you and you internally curse yourself for being so flustered in his presence. On the other hand, Namjoon tenses when you lean against him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. 

He gently guides you towards the bathroom again, carefully waiting as you struggle with the occasional steps and fumble around with the towel clinging to your body. Not paying enough attention to your surroundings results in you taking one step too close, nearly toppling down until a weight stops you. 

Your eyes glance up in surprise at Namjoon, who managed to shift himself before you were sent smacking against the ground. You wouldn’t normally hesitate to thank him for the gesture, but his eyes immediately connect with yours and the words can’t seem to form anymore. 

The warmth in his eyes disappears within seconds and is replaced with the carnal gaze you’ve become far too familiar with. You’re only a handful of inches away from him, his breath intermingling with yours the longer you stare at each other. 

Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between you this time, arms looping around your waist in an instant. 

A burst of electricity tingles through your skin, his soft lips molding ravenously against your own. You push back with just as much desire, fiercely kissing him as your hands fist the material of his jacket. 

It’s not long before that jacket is being pushed off his shoulders completely and your back hits against the wall, a gasp escaping from your lips until his mouth crashes against yours, tongue slipping in within seconds. 

A deep moan leaves Namjoon when you loop your arms around his neck, fingers weaving into the soft strands before tugging against them. You’re abruptly being lifted up from the waist, lips still connected to his until you’re suddenly falling down, hands finding purchase within the soft material of your bed. 

Namjoon remains underneath you when you lean down to kiss him again, strands of your damp hair ticking his features and soaking through the fabric of his shirt. Your hands eagerly fumble around with his tie, growing exasperated within minutes when it refuses to come undone despite all your tugging. You can feel Namjoon smiling into your kiss, knowing that he’s holding back a laugh from your efforts. 

A desperate whine leaves you and that’s when he makes the decision to halt his teasing, spinning you around so that he hovers above you. He roughly tugs at the material and the sound of a harsh snap leaves your eyes widening, before he leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. 

He aids you in hastily undoing his buttons, letting a chuckle slip out when an exhale of relief leaves you from the last one. The material easily slips off his shoulders and although you’re eager to finally have flesh, you have to try your hardest to control your gawking eyes. 

To your complete surprise, your hands come into contact with muscle when you run your hands against him, noticing the bulkiness of his arms and chest. As if he knows he’s rendered you speechless, Namjoon coaxes your surprise by briefly connecting your lips, before descending to the juncture of your neck. 

A mewl nearly leaves you at the hot open mouthed kisses he leaves behind, serving to stroke the heat that pools between your legs. When his thumbs begin to move against the rough material of your towel, his carnal eyes snap up to meet yours, silently asking for your wishes to continue. 

Although you nervously bite down on your lip, you ultimately decide to answer him with a nod. With one flick of his wrist, the cloth is tossed onto the ground, leaving you completely bare beneath him. 

At the sight of confusion spurring in Namjoon’s eyes, you sheepishly look away. You’re not completely sure of what he was expecting, but from the way his brows are drawn together and there’s a pang of hurt in his eyes, you can tell he’s at a loss for words. 

Even though you know you’ve been through a lot, your body takes it sweet time to heal. There’s still a wound healing from the time you were shot from Taehyung and obscene injuries littering the entirety of your legs from the time you were kidnapped. It’s coupled with a handful of clumsily sewn together old bullet wounds, long having engraved themselves into your skin from the past. 

Namjoon takes it in for a moment, but when you fidget underneath his gaze, he leans closer to you. 

“No, don’t.” He stops your hand from sliding over, attempting to cover up a piece of reality you had become uncomfortably close to, “Please, don’t, I‒” 

He softly smiles, leaning down to whisper to you, “You’re beautiful. You’re so, so beautiful.” 

A smile cracks onto your lips and although you’re aware that he’s called you beautiful before, there’s something about the way he says it now that has your vision fogging. He presses his forehead against yours with a smile as you lightly laugh, pecking your lips hastily. Your body suddenly jolts in retaliation, eyes flickering over at him in astonishment. 

He kisses against your legs, right where your prominent ones have recently surfaced, before he shifts to press his lips against all the other ones. It makes you squirmish within his hold, his touch bringing shivers down your spine. 

Abruptly a sear of pleasure thrums through your body, vision going hazy. Namjoon’s hands roam around the swell of your breasts, before his fingers fondle the skin again and pinch against the eroding buds. You wither from his ministrations, sucking in a sharp inhale when he envelopes one of them within the heat of his mouth. 

Bliss fills your veins, the gratifying sensation coiling need within the pit of your stomach and dampening your aching core. You shift against him, desperately needing some relief from the agonizing heat that only seems to grow. 

“N-Namjoon...” 

As if he already knows, his lips halt their ministrations before drawing all his attention to your seeping centre. His fingers are quick to swirl against the muscle, and when he notices you immediately shudder, he doesn’t hesitate to latch his mouth onto your clit. 

“Oh my god‒” Your hands fervently grasp onto the bed sheets, eyes squeezing shut as he continues to circle his tongue against your sex. Moans are slipping out from your lips, your chest heaving as a sheen of sweat begins to cover you. 

A sharp cry escapes you when he slips a finger into your heat, joining in with the rhythms of his mouth. Your thighs quiver against him as he adds another, abruptly curling up his digits in a way that completely blurs your vision and has his name tumbling from your lips. 

The friction builds up until it’s too much, barely having the chance to tell him that you’re close to the brink of losing it all. The chord within you snaps before a wave of euphoria is washing over you, core pulsating and clenching around Namjoon’s fingers. Exhales are leaving you as your eyes focus back, your chest rising and falling. 

You grimace as he slips his hand out, raising his head to softly brush his lips against yours. A content sigh leaves you, the taste of your residue lingering on his mouth. 

Namjoon shifts for a moment, and from the corner of your eye you see him beginning to unbutton his trousers. He kicks the flimsy material away and settles himself between your thighs, his throbbing length pressing against your skin. 

He rests his elbows on either side of you, his gaze intent as he pants, “Do you....do you want this?” 

“Yes,” You breathe out, and Namjoon nods, before reaching down to align himself with your centre. His head probes at your opening for a moment, until he begins to push inside. 

You immediately grip onto his shoulders, nails digging right in. Namjoon peers up at you in hesitation, but you shake your head and encourage him to continue. 

He goes as slow as possible, the stretch eliciting beads of pain to shoot through you. When he bottoms out, you’re surprised you haven’t been split at the seams. He lets out a groan, eyes screwing shut as he rests his head against your neck. 

Small huffs are leaving you as the pain contorts into something else, a scorching heat that only intensifies as your core clenches. 

Your hands tighten around his shoulders, “Namjoon, move.” 

He glances up in surprise, but doesn’t take long to fulfill your request. A sharp thrust has you gasping, grasping onto him as it contorts into a wanton moan. Your reaction urges him on more as he thrusts into you again, earning a breathy call of his name to slip from your lips. 

Namjoon quickens his pace, before he’s slamming into you with as much vigor as he can. Your back is arching, attempting to meet the strong jerk is his hips half-way. His thrusts are a mixture of deep and aggressive, feverishly quenching the insatiable hunger that consumes you. 

Your name falls from his lips when you begin to clench against him, and he instantly reaches towards where your bodies are connected, circling against the sensitive bud that draws tears to your eyes. 

“Namjoon.” You choke out, pleasure threatening to eat you alive. Your pleas of his name are muffled by his lips, his thrusts and ministrations growing his strength. In the midst of this, he whispers against your mouth, your hazy eyes instantly connecting. 

If it weren’t for the proximity, you would have easily missed it.  

I love you. 

“I-I love you, too.” You pant, his brows contorting as he lets out a groan. 

Your release rips through you, legs wrapping against him and battered core clenching against Namjoon’s hasty thrusts. Your vision blurs out, electricity humming through your form until it fizzles out. 

Namjoon roughly thrusts against you one last time before he’s coming, his seed coating your damp walls and dripping out of your opening. He collapses against your gasping form, his breaths intermingling with yours through the silence. 

You reach out, softly running a hand against his soaked back before tangling your fingers within his dampened locks. He tilts his head to the side, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek and then leaning back. 

He carefully slips out of you, a mixture of your combined releases leaking out of your core. He rises from the bed as you lay there, returning with a moist cloth that he gently taps against your swollen core. 

The blanket is tugged up as Namjoon settles in, warmth already surrounding you from his embrace alone. A lazy smile curves on his lips, his features mirroring your content expression as you welcome sleep with open arms. 

Namjoon is awoken with a gentle shake to his shoulder. 

His eyes briefly flutter, refusing to open as a sound of protest leaves him. His shoulder is shaken again, but this time it’s rougher. 

“Namjoon…” Your voice whispers from behind him, “Namjoon, please wake up.” 

There’s a sense of urgency in your words and it’s the single thing that causes Namjoon to roll over, his eyes squinting through the lack of lighting. You hover above him, hair still tousled and the blanket covering you slipping from your shoulders, but your eyes frantically search his features. 

“Y/N…” He croaks, voice husky from sleep, “What is it...?” 

You bite down nervously on your lip and Namjoon’s confusion only deepens. 

“I-I….I think I saw someone.” You profess, “Outside.” 

At that, Namjoon’s eyes flash open. He bolts upright, leaning towards you and directing his gaze towards the window. 

“Through there?” He points and you immediately nod, watching him scramble out of the sheets and pacing over to the glass. 

You closely follow behind, peering over his shoulder, “It was almost like a shadow...I thought I was hearing things at first but then I just saw‒”

As if on cue, his eyes catch onto it. Like a faint blur in the darkness of the night sky, his pupils narrow onto the faint movement. 

He spins around, orbs coming into contact with yours. “We need to know who that is.” 

You nod, swiveling around and then walking towards the bedroom cupboards for some clothes. By the time you manage to find a nightgown, Namjoon already has his trousers on, hands rummaging around for his shirt. 

He slips his arms through it as you adjust your straps, concerned eyes peering at you as he hurriedly does the buttons. You glance up, meeting his gaze with a firm nod. 

The door quietly creaks open as Namjoon gazes around, gesturing with his hand for you to follow him. The pair of you descend down the stairs carefully, eyes racking around for any sight of movement. 

There’s absolutely nothing ‒ an eerie silence reigning over the house instead. It’s truthfully unsettling, and you find yourself unconsciously drifting over to Namjoon’s side, slipping your fingers within his. 

Once you reach the front door, Namjoon tightens his grip on you. He slowly pushes against it, attempting not to wince at the gush of wind that spills in. As silent as it is inside the house, being outside doesn’t seem to help. 

You and Namjoon instantly separate, searching around the area with the notion that either of you will alert the other from finding something. But no matter how much you peer around, even specifically searching in the region where your window was, there seems to be no one in sight. 

The two of you return inside when it feels like your fingers and toes are prepared to fall off from the icy cold, confusion evident in your shared glance.

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 16

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing. But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares, panic attacks

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story! I apologize in advance!

“Do you have your taser?” Steve and Bucky said collectively as you gathered your purse in your arms and slipped on your shoes.

“Oh my god,” you giggled your response. “Yes, I do.”

It was the day after your surprise birthday party and since you were now going to be heading to St. Lucia tomorrow, you realized you didn’t have much clothing for any kind of tropical place. Darcy had quickly agreed to go shopping with you and that’s why you were leaving the tower.

In the last month you barely left the tower. Not that you felt imprisoned at all. No. It was that you were comfortable. Now that everything was out in the open with Steve and Bucky, you didn’t feel the need to leave the tower much. The last time you left was for your appointment with Dr. Wang and both Steve and Bucky took you there.

They were the ones who normally liked to go with you out of the tower, but since they would be on vacation with you for a whole week, they needed to get some last minute things done for any upcoming missions. So, it would be you and Darcy and you were really excited to spend some time with her.

“Be safe and be good,” Steve said as he gave you a chaste kiss to your lips. You smiled at him, nodding your head.

“I don’t want to get a call that you are in jail,” Bucky joked as he kissed you next.

“It’s only going to be me and Darcy going shopping and out to brunch,” you replied, folding your arms in front of your chest.

“That’s what we’re worried about,” came Steve’s smart ass remark.

~~~

“How many swimsuits do you own?” Darcy asked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk where all the good shopping was. Clint had dropped you two off seeing as neither Steve nor Bucky wanted you two walking that far and you had agreed to stay within a certain radius of where the shopping and dining was. Especially after they found out that John or John’s friends had been sending you threatening letters and messages. But what you didn’t know, was that the bracelet that Steve and Bucky got you for your birthday, also had a tracker in it. They planned on telling you while on vacation, but it brought them a piece of mind and set them at ease while you weren’t with them.

“Umm, I honestly don’t think I even own one,” you remarked.

“Shut the front door. How do you not even own one swimsuit?”

You gave her a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t really have any time or anywhere to go swimming recently. Before meeting Steve and Bucky, I never really got out to do much at all.”

Darcy linked her arm with yours and smiled at you. “Well, I’m glad I’ve met you because now I get some more girl time. With Nat being away on missions more often than Clint, I get stuck with him a lot.”

“Oh come on. You love him and you know it,” you teased back.

She sighed, “I do. I really do. But he is obsessed with going into the vents at the tower and he always wants me to go. He doesn’t realize that I have boobs and a butt that most certainly won’t fit in those vents.”

The two broke out into laughter and you loved how easy it was being around your friend. You didn’t have many friends growing up. With your parents mental health issues, you didn’t want to bring anyone over to the house and when you were invited over for a sleep over or to hang out somewhere else, you always said no because you felt like you had to keep an eye on your parents.

“Oooh, get this one!” Darcy put the slinkiest red bikini in your hands and your eyes grew wide at how little fabric there was.

“Darcy, there is literally nothing to this bikini,” you whispered to her, heat flooding your cheeks at the thought of wearing something like this at the beach.

“That’s the point! You’re on vacation with two of the hottest men in the world whom, by the way, you have wrapped around your finger. And plus, Tony’s place has its own private beach meaning no one else but you three get access to it,” Darcy spoke as she continued to look at more bathing suits. She did have a good point, but you would still feel utterly exposed in something like this. “And we’ll just get you a few more suits for when you want to go to the public beaches.”

“How many suits do you think I should get?”

“Uhh, at least seven. You’re going to be there for a whole week so you need to have one for each day.”

While you had more than enough money in your bank account, you realized Darcy had a major shopping problem and she was to help you drain it dry. At least she offered to buy you lunch today.

The two of you shopped for a few more hours. The sun was shining high in the sky and it felt so good to get fresh air and spend some girl time with Darcy. She helped you pick out a bunch of new clothes including some light weight dresses as she thought all your clothing was too dark and heavy for some place tropical, swim suit cover ups and her personal favorite, lingerie. You didn’t own anything more than a few matching pairs of bras and underwear and they weren’t even lace. Darcy was an expert at lingerie, stating both Natasha and Clint loved seeing her in it.

While you had spent a bit more than you wanted to, you knew it was for something good. Spending an entire week with your two soulmates on a tropical island for a vacation sounded heavenly and you couldn’t wait for it to be tomorrow already. Never in your life had you gone on vacation, let alone a vacation that is fully paid for.

After lunch, the two of you went to Target to pick up some last minute essentials and a few travel sized items. Darcy explained that Tony would have everything covered at the beach house but you just wanted to be on the safe side.

Once done, Darcy called Clint to pick you two up and you headed back to the tower. Your feet were killing you, even though you wore your comfiest pair of shoes. It was a long day on your feet and you couldn’t wait to get this vacation started.

“Honey I’m home,” you sand as the elevator doors opened to your apartment.

Neither Steve nor Bucky were in the living room or kitchen as you walked into the apartment. There was however a note sitting on the kitchen counter for you.

Y/N,

We hope you had fun shopping with Darcy today and we can’t wait to spend the next week with you in paradise. We had a few errands of our own to run and will be back in time for dinner.

Xoxo

Steve and Bucky

While they could have easily sent you a text telling you they would be out for a little bit, you couldn’t help but smile at how old fashioned they were. Honestly, you loved the notes they had left around the apartment for you to find. Sometimes on your pillow when you woke up, or a sticky note attached to your mirror in the bathroom. It was little sentiments like that, that made your heart swell with pride knowing they were all yours.

With your numerous bags in hand, you headed to your bedroom so you can begin packing for your week in paradise.

Dumping your purse and bags on your large bed, you went into the closet and you pulled out the suitcase that Darcy lent you. Hauling the suitcase onto your bed with a grunt, you opened it and admired just how much space there was in the suitcase. At least you didn’t have to pay extra for the large suitcase since you were taking Tony’s private jet.

Just thing, your phone alerted you to a text message. Rummaging it out of your purse, you turned your phone on. The smile instantly wiped from your face. Your blood running cold as you started at the words.

I’ll be seeing you soon babe. I can’t wait to get my hands on your precious body. –J

Your heart began to race. It was getting harder to breathe.

“Miss Y/N,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoed faintly in the room. Your vision started to get blurry and you didn’t know if that was from the tears or if you were having a panic attack. “I am calling Captain Rogers right now.”

Your knees buckled from under you as you reached onto the bed to somewhat break your fall. This couldn’t be happening. How did he get your number? He knew where you used to live, but you had changed your number and made sure to not give it out to anyone. How could he possibly have gotten your phone number? Your breathing was ragged and you were beginning to gasp for air. If he had your phone number, that meant he was closer than ever to you. Closer to finding you. But he was still in prison, he was still locked up. Right?

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s voice came over the speakers. “What’s going on? F.R.I.D.A.Y said your heartbeat is skyrocketing.”

“He-he, John,” you couldn’t get the words out as you were gasping for air.

“Breathe doll,” now it was Bucky’s voice you were hearing. “Just breathe. We are in the elevator right now coming to you but you have to breathe.”

You tried. Fuck did you try to breathe but it was so hard. It felt like someone was squeezing your chest. It hurt. You hurt. Your vision began to go dark as you faintly heard your name being called over and over again.

Slumping down on the ground, you thought this was it. This was how you were going to die. Alone. Terrified. This isn’t how you wanted to die. You wanted to die old and wrinkly with Steve and Bucky by your side, not like this.

Before you could full go unconscious, you felt yourself being picked up in strong arms. Your vision slowly coming back and you realized you were on your bed, sitting down with your back against something hard and firm, yet soft at the same time.

“Y/N? Sweetheart can you hear me?” Steve’s worried voice consumed your mind as you slowly began to blink, seeing him kneeling in front of you on the bed. It was then that you realized you were laying against Bucky, his metal arm around your front and holding your chest tightly to him. “Good girl. There’s our girl. Now I need you to breathe. Feel Bucky breathing behind you. Match his breathing sweet girl.”

You took a few gasping breaths and you could feel Bucky’s heartbeat against your back. Doing as best you could, you could begin to feel your heartbeat starting to regulate. Reaching up, you placed your hand over Bucky’s metal arm, wanting to keep anchored to him.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, what happened?” Steve’s voice was calm and collected now as he watched you start to finally relax, eyes closed.

“It appears Miss Y/N had a massive panic attack,” the A.I responded.

You could hear Steve take a deep sigh and you opened your eyes, finding his blue orbs staring back at you. “What brought this one sweetheart?”

Instantly your chin began to quiver. “Wh-where’s my pho-phone?” you choked out?

Steve looked around the floor for your phone as you Bucky kept you anchored to him. You felt as if you were to move from your position you would fall apart.

Once Steve found your phone, he handed it to you. You didn’t want to look at it. You couldn’t. Instead, you shook your head and with the saddest voice, you told him to open it.

He looked between you and Bucky and then down to your phone in his hand. You didn’t have a password on it so Steve pressed the button on the side to light your phone up. He didn’t even need to swipe to open. He saw the text. It was right there, staring back at him. Steve’s hand gripped your phone so tight you were honestly shocked he didn’t break the phone in half.

[cassava-49]

I Won't Say I'm In Love

Felix had always walled himself up to not love again and be fooled by it again. Not again, never again, but why? After building up this façade, why is it crumbling to his feet? Right, it's because of her.

A beacon of light and love. Her dark blue hair is as deep as the color of the depths of the ocean where one can swim too deep and drown by its beauty. Her bluebell eyes that are as light as the sky that can make anyone think that they were falling down from heaven as you stare deep into them. Her warm bubbly feeling that can make anyone cozy up with her and let their guard down without their knowledge.

Ever since she transferred here and joined his circle of friends he can't help but feel drawn to the warm sweet atmosphere. He can't have it again. He doesn't want to put his heart on the line again only to be broken into millions of tiny pieces like how she had. He doesn't want to hurt again with that knowledge of not getting his chances since she is already desperately in love with his dim witted cousin.

He then turned his attention to his friends who were chatting happily over lunch. Talking about some silly antics that had happened during class. But he couldn't help but watch her close her eyes as she laughed and cover her mouth. The sound of her sweet laughter was, how would the books describe it, music to his ears, tiny sweet bells that sounded at an hour of beauty. He watched as his friend Claude balanced an orange on the tip of his nose, as Allan subtly made it fall by accidentally jabbing his side.

He continued to watch the bluenette smile and laugh, not noticing the subtle glances Allegra was giving him. The bell rung, signalling the students that they had 30 minutes before classes began again. This made his friends get up and take their trays and brought it to the counter.

"Well, see you guys later," Marinette said to her friends as she headed to the art department wing for her lesson. As she left, she didn't notice the penetrating stare the blond had fixated on her back. But the blond didn't notice the looks his three friends were sharing as a grin crossed each of their faces. Felix turned around to be greeted by these suspicious grins as he let a scowl cross his face, knowing what the three would say.

"No," was all he said to the three as he stalked away. "Come on Fe. We know that you know that you like her," Allegra told him as she walked with him. "Allegra, stop it. You know that I will not love again nor put myself to it after how the past had ended," he said his petty reason. "This is not like you dude. The Felix I know would not let the past be the reason for fear and ignorance," Allan backed. "No one will ever be worth my time in that aspect. And it doesn't help that she looks like her," Felix replied in distaste of his words.

"You know that she's the earth and heaven to you. You can't just run away from your feelings cause your bad at hiding these kinds of feelings," Claude spoke. The four continued walking until they were outside the building for their food and lockers. "I have learned my lesson in loving Claude. I will not throw myself back into this cliche and have what is left in my heart torn into pieces," Felix replied as he tried to keep his face in pure frustration and his thoughts in denial. However, it wasn't entirely working mostly because of this conversation.

"You can't deny it bro, we can read you better than others and all that we can see is a lovesick puppy thinking that it was just the meat," Allan said as Allegra kept on rolling her eyes at Felix's answers. "Hon, we're not buying your bs right now. We all saw how you change around her. You definitely care for her and ever since she cracked you, you began to grow it," Allegra added. "Grow what?" Felix asked getting irritated at his friends persistent jabbings. "A love sickness that you obviously have bad," she continued with her banter.

"That is highly impossible. I am not interested in Marinette in a romantic way," Felix said trying to wrap his words in ice. "Oh, hi Netta, didn't see you there," Claude said which caused Felix to turn his attention to where the boy was, only to find their school mate Antoinette pass by. But Felix couldn't help but let a sigh of relief and disappointment cross his face. But when he turned he was faced with a poster of Marinette and her club's saying that they would be exhibiting their art and a small pageant for the young designers that will be held tomorrow, February 14. He couldn't help but stare at the bright eyed designer in her cute sailor outfit. He couldn't help but let his fantasies run wild until someone broke him out of it. "If you ask someone right now, they would definitely say that you have it bad," Allan commented as Felix scoffed. As he tried to deny and tell his treacherous heart to shut up and let his head think.

He then faced his friends with a glare and said, "Claude your department's that way." Claude then let out a huff and rolled his eyes at the blond and went to the direction Felix had been pointing. "But just face it and say that you're in love," he said as he continued walking. This made him roll his eyes at his friend and caught the scoffs of the other two. "You two just go before me. I need the bathroom," he stated as he made his way to the closest restroom. Once inside, he went into a cubicle, locking it and resting his back at the door as his stared at the ceiling. He sighed and dropped his head letting his thoughts run back to the past.

...

"Hey Felix~~," a bubbly voice called from behind. Irritation crossed his mind as he recognized that voice. The said owner of the voice took a seat next to him as he quietly made his research in the library. "What are researching on?" the bluenette asked as she looked over his notes. Annoyed by her antics, he closed his notebook and the other books as he began packing to leave the insistent girl. 

But this did not stop her as she stood up from her seat and went in front of him and waved two tickets directly at his eyes. "I was wondering if you don't have anything to do later, we can go to the theatres and watch this new movie, you know the one about 'The Little Prince' I saw you reading the book and I wondered if you would like to watch it. I'd even allow you to rant about it," she said in a hopeful tone. He then saw his friend at the back giving out yes signals. He let out a sigh and said, "Fine I'll go." This made the girl smile and jumped for joy as she gave him the details.

This was the start of the simple dates and happy experiences and, to his astonishment, love. Yes, after getting to know the bubbly happy girl he started developing feelings for the young girl. After about 10 dates he finally asked her to be his girlfriend. This made the girl tear up and engulf him in a tight hug after giving him a loving kiss on the cheek.

They had such a good relationship, it even got him out of his shell, slightly. He would be caught flirting in public and show a bit of PDA. He couldn't help it, he loved her deeply and wished that their relationship would last. He loved everything about her; her personality, her blue eyes, her long dark blue hair that were tied in twin tails.

Today was their second year anniversary, they were at the Ponte des Arts, just enjoying their time as they ate ice cream. He looked at the girl at his arm and smiled as he softly spoke, "Bridgette." She then gave a hum of response and looked up at him with a half smile. This made his heart drop as he realized that there was something troubling him. "Is there something bothering you?" he asked, scared of her answer. This made the girl sigh and let go off his arm as she took his hand and looked directly into his eyes. "Do you love me, Felix?" she asked, tad uncertain. This made his eyes widen and took both of her hands and kissed her knuckles and replied, "Truly, deeply, ardently and all the words that can increase the meaning of my love for you."

As he said that he notice a hint of heartbreak pass in her eyes. Just as he feared she lowered her gaze and removed her hands from his, as she stared at the ground. He then watched her eyes well up with tears as she brought her hands to her face to cry in. This caught him off guard as he put his hands on her arms wanting to hug her. But she pushed him away, this broke his heart as he watched his girlfriend cry in front of him and not wanting to be comforted by him.

After a few more sniffles she looked him in the eyes and said in between sobs. "I-I-I'm p-pre-pregnant," she said as he felt his world shatter. But slowly rebuild and a smile appeared on his face as he said, "It's alright, I know 16 isn't the ideal age to be parents, but I'd be glad to have a family with you." He then slowly placed his hands on her shoulders as he rubbed his hands up and down her arms in a comforting manner. (Side note: the age of consent in France is 15)

This didn't comfort the girl at all as she cried more. She then looked him with sad eyes and spoke, "T-t-th-that's the th-thing. T-the b-baby i-i ---." But she wasn't able to finish when someone pulled her away from him and glared at him. "What she meant to say is, the baby's not yours," he said with a smirk. This made him give a look of confusion and then realization came dropping on him. He then remembered that they had only done it twice and he was very careful, he had a condom on and made sure that it was of good quality.

He then looked at the two in front of him and asked, "I-is it true?" This made Bridgette freeze as she recalled this tone as his frightening tone from before they had been dating. She slowly nodded, afraid of meeting his gaze. "How long has this been going on?" he asked in his icy cold voice that set fear into anyone's hearts. Unable to answer the boy next to her answered for her, "Actually we had been getting it on since last Christmas and I claimed her long before you did," the Asian man said to him. He then turned his attention back to his "girlfriend" realizing that last Christmas she went back to Seoul(Let's just say that she's Korean  since  MLB was first released there. Another side note: Age of consent in South Korea is 16).

"Why?" he asked. However, she wasn't able to answer as she tried to hide in the arms of the other man. This made the shards of his earlier shattered world to break more at this action. Trying to keep his cool he then said, "Congratulations. I will back down for the both of you. I wish that you find happiness with him." With that he gave the man a killer punch and walked away, not wanting to notice the look the crowd was giving him.

...

He sighed at the awful memory not wanting it to happen again. He gave her his world, his dreams and his whole being. Thinking that she would do the same, but in the end she broke him, in the last way he thought she would. As he continued to think about it he felt tears prick his eyes, to which he immediately removed. His thoughts came rushing back to Marinette's sweet smile, comforting presence and lovable companionship. This got him sighing as he whispered to himself, "I've got it bad."

The day ended and the gang regrouped as they went straight to the bakery for final fittings. Felix walked quietly by Marinette's side as she began discussing about the adjustments she'd had to make with their clothes. Allegra began gushing about how amazing her designs are even without adjustments. Allan just told her not to worry and be confident in her talent, while Claude was just asking what treats her parents were handing out. Felix on the other hand had just been admiring her talk.

"Hey Felix, you seem out today. Are you OK?" Marinette asked him as she turned her attention to him. This caught him off guard when she turned her attention to him. He only gave her a curt nod as a light blush dusted his cheeks. They then arrived at her home and were all showered with affection by her ever doting parents who insisted that they all stayed for dinner.

The group was in her room as she made a few adjustments to the clothes she's supposed to present the next day. "Maddie this is amazing. I love it," Allegra cooed as she spun around in her white dress, which had three horizontal lines at the collar of the dress and the lower part of the skirt, close to the hem. While a navy blue jacket, sailor inspired, was matched with it, and to top it off, she wore a white sailors hat with her hair curled at the bottom part. "I'm glad you love it Allegra," Marinette replied as she beamed with pride. She then turned to the boys to find them standing with each other in a pose that they probably didn't notice. 

Claude wore a fit round neck white shirt with black horizontal stripes with white ankle length pants, and a black sheer scarf was placed around his neck, while a white hat with black lining topped off the look. "Do I look fat in this shirt? I feel that I look fat," he commented as he stared at the pattern, earning a laugh from the girls. "No, it doesn't. I mean you wear vertical stripes all the time," Mari commented. "You look fat all the time," Allegra added as the group laughed again.

Turning her attention to Allan, she could see that the denim fabric fitted him perfectly. The denim polo shirt with rolled up sleeves and tucked in his denim shorts, that was held by a brown leather belt made him look simple yet stylish, and just like the others he wore a captain's hat. "Well, if you feel fat, I feel like something's missing," Allan critiqued. This made Mari give a designer's look at it as she placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head to the left. "You're right, but what can make it look more complete?" she pondered as she eyed the clothing. After a second, she snapped her fingers and made her way to the other scarps of clothing she had sewn. "No, no, not that one. Nope. Ah! There you are," she stated as she made her way to her model and tied a handkerchief around his neck and tucked it under the collar. "Better," she stated as she looked at the finished product.

She then looked at her last piece, which was being modeled by Felix. She blushed at the sight of him in a form fitting white blazer that was open to reveal a dark navy blue color that had white horizontal stripes covering the bottom half of the shirt. His legs seemed to look more fit at the sight of the royal blue pants seemed to be showing the wonderful shape, since it was slightly fit. Although he looked a bit confused at the clothing as if uncomfortable. This caused her to be concerned at the possible mistake. "Is the fit alright?" she asked hesitantly. "The designs are fine, but like you said, it's the fit. But it's just the blazer, it's a bit tight on my shoulders," he commented as he pointed at the points to be fixed.

"Alright, I'll get it done, but I'm going to take your measurements again just to make sure," she stated as she went over to her desk to take her measuring tape. "Maddie, you wouldn't mind if we change out of this?" Allegra asked. "Sure go ahead and feel free to—," she began but was unable to finish when she saw the three race out of the room. Realizing what they had done she felt her face heat up a little bit as she faced the blond who was taking off the white blazer and folded it nicely and placed it on the chaise.

He looked up to find that they were the only people in her bedroom. He cursed his friends quietly at the betrayal as he watched her make her way to him. She began taking his measurements but found it difficult with his height. This made him chuckle slightly, surprising the young designer at the reaction. "You know you could stand on a stool considering your short stature," he said. "It doesn't mean that you're taller than me by 6 inches I'm already short," she replied with a huff. He then bent down to her level saying, "Everyone who is shorter than me, I consider short and small." 

This got him with a notebook slammed at his face as he saw an irritated Marinette. He then smirked and continued, "Considering that you are '6 inches' smaller than me, makes you seem like a cute munchkin that I can put in my pocket." He watched as she got more irritated at him as he insulted her height. He continued on bantering about her being shorter than him that he did not expect her to finally jump on him and say, "You know that fact that we only have a 6 inch gap makes it easier for me to jump on your back." The two continued roughhousing, forgetting about what they were supposed to do.

After a few more minutes of fighting, Felix got the upper hand and threw her up on her bed as he joined her and began attacking her with tickles. She began to laugh uncontrollably that she was having a difficulty to breath until she finally tapped out, which made him stop his attacks. He then got off her and laid down next to her as they began to calm down.

"Don't insult me with my height again," was all she could say before they got back to what they were supposed to be doing. "You're right, cause size doesn't matter," he jokingly replied as he turned to face her with his head propped up with his arm. This got her to roll her eyes at the blond as she also turned to face him. This was when they both became self conscious about their positions causing the two parties to blush uncontrollably.

Mari then let out a cough and said, "You should, um, y-you know, change." With that she got of the bed and began fixing the things that were out of place after their game.

...

It was the day for their clubs fashion show, and a lot of famous figures were there to watch. Well, that was to be expected from a prestigious school where most of the students were children from well off families. There they could see their parents along with their friends. But looking at the more out shining personalities in the crowd was also where they could find the Agrestes and their secretary, the Bourgeois family, Clara Nightingale, Jagged Stone and others.

Marinette can feel the excitement and the anxiety, and she can see that the rest of the club was also having the same panic. Their theme was "Summer and Beaches," with different sub themes from the designers. One designer had swimsuits, another had Hawaiin style, there was one that had a Tex-Mex theme, one was carnival themed, there was a bohemian theme, tropical, floral, animal and there was Mari's sailor theme.

She can see all of them were too anxious that they were able to dress their models to the T. There was also one of them that threw up because of the pressure. They then watched as one theme after another was called. When it came to her designs she saw the impressed looks of the audience, even from Chloe, although she probably doesn't know that it was her design. She even saw her former classmates looking at the designs as if for the first time. This pained her a bit since she made sure to incorporate her designer tag there but it doesn't seem like they noticed.

Once the show ended, the designers were called up front for their recognition. They were all trembling, nonetheless, were able to make it up front as they were applauded by their success. She could hear the excited cheers of her family and classmates and from a few personalities who seemed to be waiting for her appearance. She watched her former classmates' jaws dropped as they felt stupid not realizing that those were her designs.

After the whole exhausting show they were all dismissed as the group hugged and shook hands in congratulations. Mari was engulfed by her friends and were overly happy at her success. She hugged them backed and thanked them. They then went to their favorite cafe and celebrated. But one by one they left, leaving Marinette and Felix alone, again.

"Outstanding performance as all ways," he commented still trying to deny the rapid beating of his heart towards this girl. "Thanks, but I'd say the same for you guys, after all you guys modeled for me," she replied. This got their conversation moving and they were deeply enjoying each others company when unexpected guests came.

When they heard the door chime they didn't really mind until those people went directly to their table. Marinette froze at the sight of her former friends and classmates. She could feel Alya's glare as she stared blankly at her drink.

"Seriously Marinette, no note, no message. You just disappeared into thin air in the second semester not even telling me!" Alya exclaimed. Felix glared at the girl as he took Marinette's shaking hands into his and gave it a tight affectionate squeeze that gave her strength. Channeling her inner snarky self, she took a sip of the drink and said, "I saw no reason to tell you about it. It wasn't like I heard you all wish that I should just leave Lila for good, like transfer."

This made the rest of the class flush in guilt, except for Alya. "Really Marinette, are you going to turn yourself into the victim again. Can you stop saying that? We know that YOU wanted Lila out of school for good!" she accused. This just made Marinette look at her drink and begin tilting her cup in different directions as she answered, "Wow, you make it sound like I got Lila 'almost' expelled. It's not like I 'almost' got expelled for stealing her heirloom and taking the key to correction of our exam. Or I was the one who have that 'disease' that makes me spout out nonsense." At the end she moved her pupils to look at them to find them processing what she said.

"If that's all I think that we should go," Marinette stated as she set her finished drink down and took Felix's hand and began to leave. "Not so fast, Marinette. You are not leaving until Lila comes here and you apologize to her," Alya said as she grabbed her roughly by the arm. This infuriated Felix so he stepped in to intervene.

"Unhand her, now," he said as he glared at Alya. She in turn glared back at him and said, "Get your nose out of this." He then went fully in front of her, using his height as an advantage to intimidate her. He saw her slightly flinch but still did not comply. After showing no signs of letting go, he forcefully grabbed her wrist and tightened his grip making her let Marinette go because of the sudden pain on her wrist.

"Alya I'm here," they heard someone call. "Lila, great timing," Alya replied as she smiled and winced at the girl. She then turned back to the two and said, "Now, apologize." Marinette then asked, "For what?" This made the blogger more infuriated as she began recounting the times she had injured her, bullied her, humiliated her, insulted her, accused her and other forms of abuse. "Are you done?" she asked after she had recounted all of the 'times' she had attacked the Italian.

Before Alya could say anything, Felix cut in, "Now if you please, I would like to take my girlfriend out now. You lot have already  wasted our time and disrupted our date." "I don't give a damn about your fucking date," Alya seethed as she got more frustrated by the pair. "I know, but I'm sure you are interested in keeping your reputation," he said as he pointed at the customers who were filming and whispering about them. Nino then approached his girlfriend and tried to calm her down but it didn't help, it only made her more aggressive. Blind with rage, she threw a strong punch at Marinette making her nose bleed.

Felix then clapped his hands in sarcasm, which brought the lady blogger back to her senses. "Ma-mari, I didn't, I'm sorry," she fumbled. "Ladies and gentlemen, the blogger of the Ladyblog," was all Felix can say before wrapping and arm around Mari and helping her with her nosebleed as he took her out of the building.

...

Now, the pair was seated in her room, her on the chaise and Felix on the floor as he began tending to her. Once he patched her up neatly they settled down. Marinette shift uncomfortably in her seat as she had been replaying the scene in her head. But what she couldn't get rid of was how protective Felix was when he claimed to be her boyfriend. She blushed again at the thought.

"Are you alright?" Felix asked in concern when he saw her heat up. "Y-yep, OK me, no. Me OK. Wait, I mean, I'm OK," she stammered. Felix smiled at her as he shifted uncomfortably as well trying to forget what he said in the heat of the moment.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Mari spoke up, "So earlier at the cafe, things got out of hand didn't they." Felix only nodded not wanting this to go to that direction. Feeling his discomfort, Mari just got straight to the point. "W-when you said that I was your g-girlfriend, did you say it out of–," but before she could continue, Felix stopped her by saying, "I want you to be." This made them pause and look at each other in surprise.

This sudden realization and confession was not what Felix had in mind. So he turned his head to the other direction so to not see her face of discomfort. To his surprise, instead of rejection, he felt two arms hug his torso and a small body pressed against his side. He turned to find if it was what he think it was, Marinette hugging him tightly and resting her head on his shoulder.

"I-I'd like that," was all she could say that changed his world. Here he could see a woman who would not cheat on him for she hated liars and lying. Someone he could trust not to break his heart in the worst possible way ever. He did not see her in Marinette anymore. Now he saw the person Marinette is, a loyal friend and companion, an honest and trust worthy person who would not string him around because of guilt and displeasure.

This was all that he needed before he took her and kissed her sweetly not finding any resistance in her at all. That was all the confirmation they both needed until they found themselves sleeping next to each other, arms protectively around them and the lack of clothing was all they could think of as they relished in each other for they wanted the other more than they had wanted their pasts.

[yoonieboonie]

The Substitute Lover (4)

word count: 3k (longest one yet)

genre: fluff, angst hehe

pairing: myg x reader

summary: Finally meeting the college boy you’ve been eyeing on for months, everything goes wrong when you realise what you’re really getting yourself into.

a/n: this is part 4!!! Thank you to hat one Anon that gave me a review on the last chapter :< it really made my heart swell. I hope I’m doing this fic justice because in my head, there are countless of possibilities for this story! If you can, please please please leave me a feedback after reading this chapter. Can you also let me know if you prefer weekend or weekday updates? :> Thank you!!!!

NEXT | PREVIOUS

Yoongi zoomed home to pick up his car. He didn't bother dropping the call, his constant whispers of reassurance ringing through the phone.

"You're going to be alright, I'm coming." He assured. No response was heard on the other line, the only indication that she was still there were soft and steady breathes, enough to make Yoongi weak in the knees. It took everything in him not to floor the gas and attend to her faster. Traffic was almost nonexistent in the wee hours of the night but he wanted to get to her already.

He arrives to his destination and parks. Not bothering to do it properly, at that. He blindly reaches under the pot of plant for a spare key. He entered the apartment, heading straight to her room, only to find her curled up in her bed. Staring into space, not bothering to acknowledge his existence but spoke into the air.

"Took you look enough, Yoongs." Yoongi felt his heart swell at the nickname that left her lips. If there was any confusion as to why he went to the park with you, it was gone now. In his head, there was only one thing sure and one thing only.

It's her.

He took a good look at her, drinking her in. Floods of memories rushing back, making his head spin.

"You know, if you do this more often," he trails off. "You're just proving that you can't really live without me."

The voice has a teasing tone to it but they both knew the gravity it held. She shook her head playfully and motioned for him to come near. He obliged, missing the feeling of her touch. He ran his hand through his hair as he walked near her.

The moment he reached the foot of her bed, she reached out to him. Yoongi lay down, hugging her to his chest. She let her head rest on it, feeling slow and steady heartbeats. She recalls how often she found herself in this position with him. He was her safe place, no one can change that.

"I heard from Mijin that you found a girl to match your stubbornness." she mumbled, tracing circles on Yoongi's arm. He made a sound of denial. Somehow, he didn't think she would have heard of it that quickly, and to be frank, he didn't think she would care.

Yoongi, however, did care. He didn't want her to find out. He huffed as he figured out that it must be her little sister that told her. He started to stroke her hair as he spoke gently.

"Jagi, you know I'd never replace you." He assured.

"It's you and it'll only be you. You know that." She hummed in appreciation and snuggled closer to Yoongi. She knew that. Everything Yoongi was not, she was able to change. Like ice in a hot summer's day, she melted the cold man that is Min Yoongi.

Regardless of how things ended between them, Yoongi feels grateful that she made him come out of his shell. He was no one without her, or so Yoongi thinks.

She feels herself letting go and slowly falling into slumber. Yoongi made sure she's comfortable, hovering the blanket over to her sleeping form and cuddling her closer. He sigh, he shouldn't have went to the theme park. He shouldn't have taken you to get those stupid pink pair of bunny ears. He shouldn't have bought you matching sweaters. An ugly feeling was blooming in his chest, feeling like he cheated on her. He vowed to himself that he would never do it again.

You sure were a breath of fresh air, with your huge glasses and the green cardigan you loved so much. He noticed that you were smart, too. Always carrying a book in hand whenever you have lunch with the trio. Not that he paid attention but he commends how committed you are and dedicated to your studies. No matter how he denies it, you are the type of person who leaves a mark. He's seen it with his two friends, always contacting you for lunch and study groups. Both have seemed to form a liking to you.

He let himself think that if you didn't like him in that way, would you two be friends as well? He did enjoy your time in the park, he didn't even thought of her the whole time. This scared him. He was terrified that with you, he forgets.

He should never, ever forget.

So that whole night, Yoongi tried to convince himself that he regrets spending the day with you. However, there's this voice inside his head countering this. Deep down, he enjoyed himself too. He can still remember the way your eyes sparkled the whole day, beaming at every sight you see. This made him smile to himself.

He shook these thoughts away. He belongs to her. No one, he would let absolutely no one to take his attention away from her. No one deserves him but her.

Deciding to stop overthinking for the night, he snoozed off to dreamland.

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

"Yoongi." a voice awoke him.

"What is your dumbass doing here?" Mijin hissed.

"Where's Eujin?" Yoongi asked, trying to focus his blurry sight. Mijin sighed and sat down on the bed. She liked Yoongi, yes. But every decent human being would be concerned if someone was being used for convenience. That was what her older sister was doing to Yoongi.

"I asked you a question." She repeats. "You were doing so well. Why did you let her wrap her hands around your neck again?"

The statement made Yoongi's blood boil. She wasn't using him. She was under no obligation to reciprocate whatever Yoongi was giving her. The negative image that was painted of her isn't true, Yoongi thought.

"Where is she?" He groggily asked ignoring her question completely. With a defeated sigh, Mijin pointed to their kitchen and exited the room for Yoongi to freshen up.

"Is he awake?"

The voice made Yoongi stop in his tracks to hide behind the wall next to the kitchen. He decided to let the two sisters talk first without intervening.

"Eujin, why did you call him out here? I thought you made it clear to him that you were no longer interested?"

"I know." Eujin sighed. "But since I heard about the girl who asked him out on a date, I got curious." she dragged out.

This made Yoongi's heart leap with joy. His hands reached up to feel his necklace, the ring he gave Eujin as the pendant. He recalled how he lashed out at you when you asked about it. She returned it to him when she called things off. Yoongi has worn it around his neck ever since.

Finally hearing enough, Yoongi stepped in the kitchen, faking a smile. He looked at Eujin, who is eating beside Mijin.

"Nice shirt." Mijin compliments. Yoongi's hand flies up to rub his nape. Due to the urgency to rush there, he didn't bother changing last night. He ignored it and sat on Eujin's other side. The moment he did, she lays her head on his shoulder and looks at his chest. She sighed in relief when she spotted the ring.

It's still her. She still has him.

"Tell me, Yoongs. Is that from your date?" She asks.

Yoongi wanted to deny it. He wanted to say no. Instead, he nodded meekly, his hand holding onto Eujin's.

"It's not a date. I just want the bet to be down and over with." He desperately explained.

"It's okay, Yoongs." She offers a smile. "I don't really mind."

That stings. Yoongi winced internally at how genuine she sounds, hearing that made his heart drop to his stomach. He had hoped that Eujin would at least be concerned with who he was seeing, because he would surely lose his mind if she dated someone else.

That's how much he liked her.

Mijin stood up, tired of the conversation already. She muttered something about leaving early for school and with that stalked to the front door and left.

As soon as the door closed, Yoongi faced Eujin with so much sincerity swimming in his eyes. He looked at her lips, how it beat every ruby in existence with how the red painted them all over. Her nose pointed at the tip but just rounded enough to pass as a button, up to her eyes that light up the whole room. The ones that make Yoongi weak all over.

"What do you want me to do, Jagi? Tell me and I'll do it."

She shook her head. Despite her reassurance, Yoongi didn't believe that she was alright with how he stupidly went on the date. He wished he could turn back time.

"Do you want me to never see her again?" He pleads. "Tell me, Jagi. I'll do anything."

She shook her head but felt water brimming in her eyes. Truth to be told, she was scared. Never once did she feel threatened by anything when it comes to him. She watched him reject every advances made to him, even by her own sister. So when she heard that he agreed to this one specific date, it terrified her.

Yoongi instantly panicked upon seeing her cry. He stood up and hugged her as close as he possibly can. She clutched onto him until it can no longer be identified where one body starts and the other ends. They both knew that it was hopeless, they have tried multiple times to fix what was broken but they both know they would try again.

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

That morning, both of them had class and Yoongi waited for Eujin to gather her things. She was carrying her management book and surveys for her upcoming business plan. She was a Business Administration major like you. Little do you know that it was the reason Yoongi held onto the necklace that day at the park. You and Eujin have so much in common; it couldn’t pass as coincidental to him.

Yoongi and Eujin held hands as he drove to the campus, at every stoplight he looks over her. His eyes turning into crescents as he smiles at everything she says. He was at awe with how good she looks on his passenger's seat. He didn't think he would see her seated on it again. But here she was, in the flesh.

After arriving at the campus, Yoongi had to go to the dorm to change and get ready for classes. She on the other hand is preparing to head to her professor for coaching. Together, they spot Namjoon looking at their intertwined hands.

Namjoon mumbled something to Hoseok who has his back turned on them. He looked over and his eyes trailed at Yoongi and Eujin's hands. He didn't bother hiding the scowl that formed on his face.

Hoseok abruptly stood up to leave, making Namjoon sigh and give Yoongi a disapproving look. They both thought this was over but they were apparently wrong. Yoongi squeezed Eujin's hand in assurance. He doesn't care at this point. It may be them versus the world and he wouldn't give a fuck.

"Jagi, call me after this. Please." Yoongi said, before bidding goodbye. Eujin nodded and headed inside.

Yoongi turned and headed to class where he has to face his two best buds that clearly weren’t impressed by his decisions.

He stopped by a vending machine, buying two sprites. He knew Hoseok couldn't say no to him. He just has to apologise and fix the rift between them.

As he entered the room, Yoongi's eyes searched for Hoseok's bright orange hair. He quickly beeline to them and placed the cans of soda as an apology. He squeezed himself in the middle of the two and mumbled a "sorry" sheepishly. He heard Namjoon open the can and took this as him accepting the apology.

"You made her come home wet and alone. It was freezing outside, Yoongi. I never pegged you to be this much of an asshole." This made Yoongi freeze up. It didn't cross his mind to take you home last night. His head was too clouded to even think about that. All he knew was to get to her immediately.

"Hoba," Yoongi trailed. "You know I never wanted to go in the first place. Why are you getting upset with me?"

"She's I and Namjoon's friend, Yoongi. If you cannot find it in you to be concerned with her, we do. Last time I talked to her, she sounded sick." Namjoon held Hoseok by the shoulder, trying to get him to stop.

"Hoba's just worried Yoongi." Namjoon explained. "Y/N hasn't picked up her phone and didn't go to her classes today."

Yoongi was taken aback by that but didn't show it. He shouldn't be concerned. You were no one to him. If merely being seen with you will make Eujin uncomfortable, he was willing to avoid you like the plague.

"Eujin needed me last night. I couldn't just say no."

Hoseok's eyes darted to Yoongi's necklace; it no longer held the ring. Instead it was now worn on his ring finger, confirming that they had indeed gotten back together.

"Whatever." Hoseok scoffed, not bothering to open the Sprite that Yoongi has gotten for him.

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You felt like absolute and utter shit. All over.

The moment you opened your eyes, you feel yourself burning as if you're in a furnace. You tried to reach out to your bedside table to get a thermometer and groggily held one to your ear. The moment it beeped, you already know that you are indeed burning with fever.

It must be the weather, you thought. Standing up, you went to the bathroom to get a paracetamol from your medicine cabinet. You fetched yourself a glass of water and gulped it away. You despised taking medicine but you had no choice, it was this or skipping today's lectures. It cannot be the latter since you already missed yesterday's.

Yesterday.

You sigh as you prepare the day. You remember how delicately Yoongi called the person on the other line "Jagi" or how he constantly reassured her that he was coming. To be honest, you didn't even think Yoongi was capable of being comforting and warm but the Yoongi you saw last night was, and sadly, it wasn't for you.

You shook the thought away and attend to your phone, you realised that you haven't responded to Hoseok or Namjoon. You got a call from Hoseok yesterday asking about the date and you told him that you are walking home and would call him after. However due to exhaustion, you fell asleep right after showering.

Glancing at the pink bunny ears at your vanity, you took out the picture from the waterpark and placed it next to it. Yoongi might not care about the date and was seeing another but you didn't care. You'd like to cherish the date as much as you can.

"First and last date." you whispered. "At least it was a good one."

You didn't bother texting Hoseok back, thinking that you'll see them later for lunch. Still feeling a bit under the weather, you went on your usual way to the campus.

You attended class per usual, not bothering to register the information given by the professor. You decided to go home after this, you can feel your fever getting worse and you're getting dizzier by the moment. You stalked to the restroom and went in to wash your face.

The moment the cold water hits your face was a relief. The burning feeling in your face is momentarily gone; you lift your hand up to feel your forehead when a voice spoke beside you.

"Hey, are you okay?" You glanced at her in the reflection of the mirror. You examine her face, she was ethereal. Every angle looks divine and sculpted by the gods. You have to look away because you found yourself staring.

"Yeah, just feeling a bit under the weather." You replied.

"I'm headed to the cafeteria, come with me. Get something to eat before taking a medicine." She offered.

Thinking about how Namjoon and Hoseok might be there, you agreed. Both of you exited the restroom and stalked to the cafeteria.

Students are scattered around making it difficult to spot Hoseok and Namjoon. After a little looking around, you spot them and waved your hand.

Hoseok looked relieved to see you alive and breathing while Namjoon just smiled at your direction. You noticed that Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. You guess he was still with her.

You shook your head. It was none of your business, like he said. All you need to do is focus on your studies and try to make the most out of university with your new friends.

Just before Hoseok and Namjoon reach your table, your new friend's phone began to ring. She stood up and answered it, leaving you alone at the table.

"Y/N," Hoseok breathed. "Are you okay? I thought you were sick." he pouted.

You offered a smile and nodded. Meeting the trio was a blessing. Hoseok was a great friend, same goes for Namjoon.

"Why did you come to school?" Namjoon asked, clearly disapproving that you chose school over health.

"Shush, you guys. I'm alright!" you laugh at Hoseok, still upset at your attendance.

Hoseok was about to speak again when a voice interrupted him.

"Hey, let's get something to eat so you can take your medicine." your new friend, who you've forgotten to take the name of, offered.

Namjoon blinked back in shock calling her name while Hoseok sarcastically smirked on the side.

"Eujin?!"

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