#i know they’d argue it’s so you can complete your trip but like just let me go anyway

[mellow-hole]

fuck PTV for making myki cards go into the negatives ? like just let it get to 0 and then make u top up it’s so weird to have a -$5 myki gbfbfhbfb

[solelifauna]

Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 4

Unemployment was not on your bucket list.

The rest of your shift dragged on, each minute weighed down by the persistent presence of Dick, Cass, and Damian. They loitered, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. It was unnerving, knowing they were there—observing, calculating. You tried your best to ignore them, focusing on the customers and getting through the shift, but their eyes on you were impossible to shake.

Eventually, you glance at the clock. Your shift is finally coming to an end. A wave of relief washes over you. Soon, you’ll be out of here. You’ve been expecting a call from Alfred any minute now, either letting you know he’s “on the way” or already outside waiting for you. You clutch onto that thought, hoping for a quick getaway.

But that’s when you feel it, a firm hand on your shoulder. You flinch, startled, and whirl around to find Cassandra standing right behind you, her eyes sharp and her smile almost unsettling in its warmth.

“Y/N,” she said softly, her tone gentle but somehow–wrong.

“Can I–um–help you?” you ask, your voice betraying your unease. Cass is just as overtly intimidating as the others, if not more so. You know who trained her, you know what she's done, what she's capable of.

“We’ll take you home,” she says simply, the statement hanging in the air like an unbreakable decree.

You blink, not sure if you’ve heard her right. “What? I—Alfred’s picking me up,” you stammer, trying to figure out why the hell they’d want to take you home instead.

Cass’s smile doesn’t falter. “Change of plans.”

You glance past her toward the table where Dick and Damian are waiting. They’re already standing, Dick’s usual smirk plastered on his face, while Damian looks like he’s already irritated by the mere suggestion of you being in the same car as him.

“Uh..” You contemplate walking home, imagining the quiet and cool Gotham air being far more appealing than sharing a car with these three. Maybe it’s not that far to walk? Maybe you’ll survive the trip on foot? But you know better than to argue with them—not when Dick is involved.

With a resigned sigh, you nod. “Okay,  I guess. I still need to get my bike though.”

Cassandra hums in approval.

The walk to the car was stifling. Dick led the way, his usual playful grin in place, but there was an intensity behind it that made your skin crawl. Damian followed closely, his silence more oppressive than any words he could’ve said. When you reached the sleek black car, one of Bruce’s more extravagant vehicles, your hesitation grew, but there was no turning back now.

As you slip into the backseat, you find yourself next to Damian, who's already glaring out the window like you’re the most offensive thing in the car, and the leather seat that smells faintly of expensive cologne. Cass takes the passenger seat, her calm demeanor oddly comforting despite the situation, while Dick slides into the driver’s seat.

The car hums to life, and soon enough, you’re speeding through the streets of Gotham. The tension inside the vehicle is thick, almost unbearable. You stare out your window, watching the city blur by, trying your best to disappear into the seat.

“Y/N,” Dick’s voice broke the silence, far too casual for the tension in the car. “You didn’t tell us you were working at that cafe.”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say much. “Didn't think I needed to? Why does it matter?”

Dick’s eyes flicked to you in the mirror, a glint of something dark behind his seemingly easy going demeanor. “It seems as though there's a lot of things you haven't told us (Y/n), hmm?”

He just completely ignored your question, and like an idiot, you dignify his question with your own response.

“I don't know why you in particular care, considering you haven't bothered to in the past four years.” You remark, crossing your arms. 

Dicks smile only widened as he cooed at your response. “Oh I don't care (Y/n), but you can't just do whatever you want, right? Your last name’s still Wayne last time I checked, do you know what that means?”

His eyes flicker to you, staring at you through the rear view mirror. You just shrug nervously, you had no idea where he was going with this.

“It means you’re not allowed to just fuck off and do whatever you want. What happens when you’re working and a rouge or random criminal recognizes you? It’ll be our job to drag you back.” He says smiling all the while. Dick doesn't really curse, not like this anyways, and it's starting to scare you. 

There was something sinister beneath his seemingly friendly demeanor. The way he was talking about you, it made you feel more like a possession than a person. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, eyes flicking to Damian and Cassandra. None of them seemed to be fazed by Dick's words. It was like they all understood something you didn't.

"Look," you muttered, "I just needed the job, okay? I didn’t think it was a big deal."

He just nods, “Which is why you'll be putting in your two week’s notice.”

Hold the phone.

“I'm sorry what?”

“I'm sure I spoke clearly, didn't i?”

“I'm–I'm not quitting my job.”

“Yes you are. In fact, you're going to call your boss and let them know right now.”

“You’re fucking crazy if you thin–”

“I'm not asking (Y/n).” He says, a certain edge to his voice. “Call your boss.”

You’re scared. You don't know why he’s doing this. Shaking, you pull out your phone, staring at the screen as if it could somehow save you from this situation. You know they won’t let you get out of this. Not with the way Dick’s smile is hovering on the edge of something dangerous, not with Damian’s silent approval and Cassandra’s eerie calm. The power dynamic is suffocating—this isn’t a request; it’s an order.

“Call,” Dick says again, his voice now a warning.

You swallow hard, your fingers trembling as you scroll to your boss’s number. You want to refuse, you want to stand your ground, but the fear of what would happen if you did keeps your rebellion at bay. You press the call button, and the phone rings in your ear.

“Hello?” your boss answers, their voice friendly and unsuspecting.

“Hey Daniel, it’s Y/N,” you say, your voice shaking. “I—I’m sorry, but I have to put in my two weeks’ notice. I—uh, I can’t work here anymore.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “What? Y/N, is everything okay?”

No. “Yeah, it’s fine,” you lie. “I just… something came up, and I can’t keep the job.”

Your boss hesitates, clearly concerned. “Are you sure? If this is about needing time off, we can work something out—”

“No, I’m sure,” you cut them off, glancing at the rearview mirror, where Dick’s eyes are still watching you with that unsettling intensity. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

You hang up before they can ask more questions. There’s a sick feeling in your stomach, like you’ve just lost something.

Dick hums in approval. “Good. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You don’t respond. You’re too numb, too angry to even find the words to fight back. The rest of the car ride is silent. When you finally arrive back at the manor, you slip out of the car without a word, making a beeline for your room. You can hear them behind you, talking quietly amongst themselves, but you don’t care. You just need to be alone.

The worst part was, you didn't even get to go back for your bike. Gotham wasn't exactly known for its secure parking spaces, especially for a bike left unattended for hours. By now, it was probably stolen or stripped for parts. Another loss to add to the growing list.

You collapsed onto your bed after a long, hot shower, letting the steam wash away the dried coffee and lingering bitterness of the day. The frustration and humiliation clung to you, but you tried to push it all aside as you buried yourself in mundane distractions. Homework? Done, though half-heartedly. Your phone? A welcome relief, a way to escape the reality of what your life had become.

The phone call with your friends was a lifeline. You started by relaying the bizarre events of your day—Dick showing up at your workplace, forcing you to quit, the awful encounter with the Karen who’d thrown coffee in your face. Arya and Ethan were outraged on your behalf, their voices rising with indignation as they expressed disbelief at how ridiculous your life had become.

“What is wrong with him?” Arya had exclaimed after you explained how Dick had basically forced you to quit. “It’s like he gets off on controlling you.”

Ethan chimed in, his voice laced with sarcasm. “It’s the Wayne family, what do you expect? They think the world revolves around them.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics eventually, giving you a break from the heavy reality of your situation. Arya’s excitement over the girl she liked responding to her Instagram story was a welcome distraction. She went on a rant about how this girl was clearly the one, and you and Ethan couldn’t help but exchange amused glances over the phone. Arya’s giddiness was infectious, and soon the three of you were laughing—deep, real laughter that made you momentarily forget about everything.

But, as with all good things, the fun came to an end with a knock at your door. You sighed heavily, already knowing what was coming.

"Master (Y/n), it’s time for dinner."

The familiar voice of Alfred carried through the door, his polite yet firm tone unmistakable. You groaned, dragging yourself off the bed with all the enthusiasm of someone heading toward their own execution. Dinner meant facing Dick, and after the day you'd had, that was the last thing you wanted to deal with.

You swung open the door, forcing a smile for Alfred, though you knew he could see right through it. "Hey Alfie, how was today?"

Alfred smiled, ever the picture of calm. "All good in a day's work, Master (Y/n). Might I inquire how work today was?"

You couldn’t help but grimace at the mention of work. "It... it was alright," you said, though the weight of your words made it clear that was a lie. Alfred’s raised brow told you he wasn’t fooled.

"Well," you sighed, the reality sinking in further as you spoke, "it doesn’t matter anymore anyways. I quit today."

Alfred’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "But my dear, I thought you adored working there? Whatever did happen?"

You couldn’t hold back the bitterness in your voice as you answered, "Dick."

Alfred’s eyes softened with understanding, and the sympathy in his gaze was almost too much to bear. "Ah, I see. I’m sorry you’ve had to do so," he said, and you could tell he genuinely meant it.

"It’s not your fault, Alfie," you replied, feeling a pang of guilt for dragging him into your mess. "Which is why I wanted to ask if I could have dinner in my room today? I don’t think I’ll be able to stay civil with Dick sitting there."

Alfred gave you a sad smile, one that only deepened the dread in your chest. "Usually, it would be more than allowed," he began, his voice gentle, "however, today your father has requested that you attend dinner no matter what."

Your heart sank. "What?"

"Yes," Alfred said with a hint of regret in his voice. "Unfortunately, you don’t have much of a choice today, my dear."

You stared at Alfred, dumbstruck. Since when did Bruce care whether or not you were at dinner? He barely acknowledged your presence most of the time, and now suddenly it was a demand?

Alfred gave you one last apologetic look before he turned to leave, his footsteps fading down the hall. You stood frozen in place, disbelief washing over you.

What the actual fuck is happening?

Tag-list!!:

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[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

THIS BLOG IS 😍🫣😊😳

can we please get James (modern or 10s) x younger reader? They are arguing and she goes “don’t tell me what to do you’re not my father” and he goes “I’m not your father, but I’m your daddy” and completely breaks her in bed??? Like she came so many times last night that in the morning she can’t feel her legs and her whole body aches and he brings her coffee to bed and asking if she learned how to behave???

I’m such a whore for him 🤤🫣😳

Warnings: smut, use of toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m receiving), daddy kink, angst, age gap, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

All you wanted was to go on a little trip with some of your friends, James asked if he could go and you said no because it was supposed to just be you and your friends.

After that he got all upset over it, saying he wasn’t paying for shit. He liked paying for you, spoiling you, it didn’t often cross his mind that you made your own money and had some to set aside to pay for yourself.

He just wanted to be with you and didn’t see why it was such a big deal that he’d be coming along, your friends liked him well enough, didn’t they?

Sure, James was a few years -or decades- older than you, but you loved him and he loved you more than anything! Why wouldn’t they see that?

“Oh, they’d love it if I just paid for it though, huh?” He said, arms crossed over his chest as he sat on the couch, refusing to look at you and instead glaring bullet holes into the TV.

You groaned loudly, rolling your eyes. “No! They don’t want you to pay for anything! You can’t just buy people off!” He chewed his cheek at that remark. “They just want to spend time with me!”

“And they can’t do that with me there?” You threw a pillow at him, knocking him in the head and he finally turned to look at you.

“I don’t need you there because you’re not my fucking dad!” You could see something swirling in his eyes, something more than anger or frustration.

James stood up slowly and made his way over to you in a few determined strides. He pointed a finger to you, pushing on your chest as he towered over you. “I might not be your dad but you know damn well I’m your fucking daddy.” You swallowed thickly, already feeling yourself getting wet as his blue eyes bore into you.

He lifted you up and tossed you over his shoulder effortlessly, giving your ass a firm smack. You bit down on your lip, refusing to make a sound. The fight wasn’t over, just on pause -if that’s what James wanted.

As he carried you he pulled off your clothes, dragging your jeans down your thighs along with your panties so he had free access to your needy cunt, easily taking two of his fingers already. He wasn’t going easy on you, fingers moving faster, only pulling out to smack your ass every few seconds because you were squirming too much.

He tossed you onto the bed, mind already fuzzy and a knot already building in your gut. He stared down at you a moment, thinking about how to punish you.

“C’mere.” He said, patting the edge of the bed. You crawled down and flipped over onto your back, looking up at him eagerly.

He went to the dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a massage wand. He smiled as he brought it over to you and used your pants to hold it up right against your clit, a makeshift torture device when he hit the button and it started whirring against your bundle of nerves.

You were a whining mess in minutes, James hovering over you, pinching and flicking your perky nipples. You couldn’t take it much longer, already feeling the knot coming undone, James just smiled down at you as you twitched and squirmed against the toy. “Jamie! Jamie, m’so close, I can’t-can’t-!”

“Can’t cum without daddy.” He finished for you. “you can have your vacation but you know it won’t be the same without me, sweetheart.” You whined loudly, eyes rolling back as you came. He didn’t touch the toy, letting it continue and overstimulate you.

He got up and undid his jeans, pulling them down enough for his hard cock to hit you in the face. A wicked grin came to his face as he tapped your with his leaky tip, smearing pre-cum over your cheeks before pushing past your lips.

You gagged around him, borderline choking on his length as he thrusted mercilessly down your throat, groaning at the sensation. You could feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge again, tears brimming your eyes from it all.

You held the sheets in a death grip, struggling to stay still for him as another wave of pleasure washed over you.

The vibrator was starting to hurt, constant buzzing between your legs bringing more out of you, with every high they just came quicker and harder, tears now streaming down your cheeks.

James was still using your mouth like a fleshlight, not caring if you were crying or in pain. He saw the drool dribbling over your jaw, mixing with his pre. He was twitching down your throat, pulsing before he finally came with a few loud groans, his head falling back in ecstasy.

He pulled out of you. You coughed, a few sobs ripping from your throat. “Please!” You cried, voice hoarse, it hurt to say anything. “Make it stop, make it stop!” James smiled down at you, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Aw, my poor baby hurts?” He asked in a mocking tone. “Needs daddy to make her feel better?”

You nodded. “Please, daddy, please! It-it hurts, it hurts, daddy!” He moved to sit on the bed, finally turning the toy off and taking it away from you.

He helped you out of your clothes, they were sticking uncomfortably to your sweaty skin, body twitching, aching and shuddering at every feather light touch. James didn’t care, he had his plans and seeing how you were reacting to his gentleness in the moment only got him more excited for when he got to be rough again.

Your chest rose and fell hard, heaving as you continued to cry, unable to stop the sobs slipping past your lips. James got up and started taking off his own clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing the pudge of his stomach, pudge he always seemed self-conscious of but you loved. You loved laying your head on his stomach, or grinding down on it like a pillow, but it was better because it was James guiding your hips, moving you farther down until you were riding his dick and throwing your head back.

He dropped his jeans completely along with his boxers and crawled back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around so your head was on the pillows and he was hovering over you again, pinning you down.

“How are you, darling?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you. “Feeling alright? S’not too much?” He was concerned for your well-being, but if he kept asking it would ruin the whole mood, he’d ask you sporadically to make sure you were still enjoying it, he’d listen if you told him to stop and he needed you to know that.

You sniffled and nodded. “M’good.” You said simply.

“Good.” He said, kissing you again. “Because you need to learn a lesson, don’t you?” He asked, not waiting for a response before he pushed into you, wasting no time as he pistoned his hips into yours just as he had done with your mouth.

Your moans and cries bounced off the walls, back arching as you came again, let’s shaking on either side of him. His words echoed through your mind as he grunted in your ears, nothing but degrading comments, “you dumb fucking slut, you fucking love this, don’t you? Love being used by daddy, love being fucked stupid, you’ve got nothing going through that thick fucking skull of yours, got nothing but daddy, huh?” And all you could do was agree.

The room was dark, curtains pulled over the windows to block the light from coming through. Everywhere was a dull ache and you couldn’t move your legs no matter how hard you tried, not that you were really trying.

You weren’t lying in yours and James’s bed, he carried you to a guest room because there was no way he was letting you sleep in that fill, sheets soaked and stained. He tossed them in the washer when he woke up but he didn’t think it would do much and already had a garbage bag ready for them, planning to get another set later that day.

The door creaked open and he came in with a tray of food, smiling when he saw you were awake. “Morning, darling, sleep good?” He asked as he sat down beside you, setting the tray on your lap after helping you to sit up.

You nodded, looking over the selection of a yogurt bowl, granola and fruits mixed in it, a cup of coffee just the way you like it on side, a banana cut up in a bowl drizzled with chocolate. “Slept good.” You said, voice raw.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around you and held you tighter to his side. “I’m glad, sweetheart, ‘cause that’s how I’m gonna get you to sleep every night until you leave.”

You looked up at him. “Jamie, you can’t do that, I won’t be able to move.”

He smiled proudly down at you. “Well, I suppose I could be more reasonable, if you let me come with you.” He leaned down closer to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I just want to fuck you in our hotel room, on the balcony, take you somewhere pretty off tour.”

It took a lot of convincing for your friends to let you bring him along, they didn’t like him and they didn’t like that he was this protective of you. They didn’t like how much older he was than you, they didn’t like anything about this situation and it was evident. Every day of your trip you were seeing more and more how your friends were pushing away from you, it hurt but James was there every night to comfort you.

He was ruining you, in a few ways, but he made it better. At least, he made it seem that way.

[spindle-girl]

Daybreak 1.7

Let's see how this not-quite Vikare moment works out

Nobody Kingdom Come had affected remembered much of anything.  It was as though they’d fallen asleep – they remembered losing awareness, some reported briefly coming to in the middle of things as the building had shook or they had been knocked around, and they hadn’t really processed or understood much of those glimmers.

well that's a nice preventative measure against being a low-tier Khepri in terms of trauma

I was painfully conscious of the sweat, grime and blood, yet I couldn’t bring myself to go wash up because that would require attention to it. Paradoxical, I was well aware.

heeeyyy. there's that classic wildbow protag acknowledgment of denial

“You know I can’t keep you on the staff,” he said.

i was going to mock this by saying that the prt did so well without having any parahumans on board, but then i remembered lol. having parahumans work with the non-parahumans publicly would be better, since i don't think the whole separate organizations would work even if it actually happened for once. trying to keep it hidden is obvi a bad idea, but so is a complete and total wall between the two

“Can-” I started.  I cleared my throat.  “Can I get back to you on that?  I’ve- I guess I’ve got a family thing I should go to.”

getting fired really must be getting to her if she's using family as an excuse to leave

With the path I’d taken, I reached the backyard first.  The driveway was wider than it was long, crushed gravel, with room for multiple vehicles, and a fence stretched from the house at one corner to the garage at the other.  My mom had invited neighbors, so it was a thing, even if things had reached a more relaxed point.

ok, so i know i already went through the worm epilogues which is why i don't have too much of an issue with ward continuing that, but having suburbs like this really is wild. so far it's been a giant school, which i get for the purpose of giving kids a roof for the day, shoddy apartments, which seems like a decent way to handle the amount of people they got, and general skyscrapers, which was a thing from Rachel's epilogue. i guess suburbs aren't that crazy compared to that, but it seems like such a waste i can't imagine people actually spending time building them. the skyscrapers could be a waste too, but depending on their purpose you could at least argue they can hold a lot of people

i dunno, this whole description followed up by Mark on the lawn chairs gave me whiplash that i haven't gotten so far

“You’re hurt,” she said, touching my arm, where the road rash was. “Scuffed up.” “Did you get the other guy?” she asked.  She reached out and touched my hair, fixing it by moving strands to one side.

the instant touching and fixing. uhg

“You’re fucking it up, mother,” I said.  “You’re fucking- you’re fucking- did dad play along with this?” “I told him everyone was coming.  You, your sister, Crystal, Uncle Mike.  He was surprised, but… pleasantly surprised.”

hey Danny, congrats on not tripping over the other guy. i still don't like you, but i fully understand why you get ranked above Mark now

“In the interest of putting my demons to rest,” I said.  “I’m going to keep my distance.  Don’t call, because I can’t trust a thing you say.  I’ll figure out what I’ll do about Dad later.” “Don’t,” she said.  “Nothing gets better if you close off communication.” There were things I wanted to say to that. It wasn’t worth it.

nah, fuck him and don't come back. oh fuck i just remembered she's staying with her dad. does she move in with Ashley this soon? please say yes, for both Victoria's sake and for the fun it would bring

I reached out toward the window, a foot away from touching it.  I turned on my forcefield. A pause. Then a handprint on the window, in the condensation.  Then another.

this is the scene that led to wildbow deciding on Victoria, right? hello Fragile, can't wait for your interlude

End notes:

Gilpatrick is at least kind to Victoria. still don't like his child militia, no matter how much he tries to thin the group, it's just the Wards 2.0 with all the suck that comes with it and i don't believe that two-year gun rule is going to last more than a month. good to give Victoria a space to stay though

Carol and Mark suck. i wonder when we'll see Amy proper for the first time

oh, yeah, Fume Hood. she's resting up at the hospital. tbh, even knowing she's going to be around for a while i didn't get the sense that this was a Vikare moment. shooting capes has always been seen as a possible strategy. not necessarily smart or very effective, but possible. Vikare's death always seemed more like a accident with people thinking he'd be fine no matter what. maybe it was everything else surrounding it? villain turning hero, divides between civilians and capes, that make it a situation on par with the end of the golden-age

[cameronspecial]

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 11)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Reference to a Panic Attack and Spoilers for The Cruel Prince.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.0K

Summary: Halloween, the best holiday of the year is meant to be spent with the people you love.

A/N: Definitely not me adding in the KitKat part because I just went on a road trip in the US and my Canadian self was disappointed with the KitKat.

Masterlist

Friday night, Y/N finally has her first book club meeting. Rafe sits beside her with one hand on her thigh and the other holding his book. “I like how confident Jude’s character is. She is so badass,” Rafe inputs into the conversation. When the other members of the club found out Rafe is a part of it, it is safe to say they were shocked at the revelation and didn’t expect him to actually read the book. But ever since Rafe and Y/N started reading together every night, he has actually gotten through a few books. If they weren’t sleeping in bed together, they’d FaceTime each other and just bathe in the knowledge that the other was a shout away. For the book for the club, they would often take turns reading to each other. “Yass, she is an absolute queen. Like becoming a spy was so awesome,” Kate adds. The conversation continues until the hour is up and everyone has gone home. Y/N is getting herself a snack when she feels Rafe drop his chin onto her shoulder. He gives her a gentle kiss, “I think we should dress as Jude and Cardan for Halloween. You can put your hair up in horns and wear a dress. I can put on one of those flowy shirts that are like a pirate shirt. You’d love it.”

“That’s a great idea, we can go into town now to see what we can get. Ooh, but we should look at fan art first,” Y/N rattles, completely abandoning her snack to go check her phone. Rafe smiles as he sees the excitement on her face. She shows him multiple different pictures and he gives her his thoughts about it. Before he knows it, they are going into town to see what they could find. 

———

Halloween is Y/N’s favourite holiday. The idea of being able to pretend to be whoever one wants is appealing to her. This Halloween is especially exciting for her because Rafe actually wants to do a couples costume with her. Rafe is throwing a Halloween bash in honour of the holiday and she knows he is going all out just for her. He had her help him pick out a multitude of decorations, drinks and candies. She is trying to follow the video to make the horns with her hair for the costume, but she quickly grows frustrated with the task. “Ugh,” she lets out very loudly. This summons Rafe into the bathroom from the adjoining bedroom, “What’s wrong, my rose?” “This video is literally the hardest thing I have ever done,” she complains to her boyfriend. Rafe gives her a wicked smile and approaches her, “Here let me try.” 

He begins to work on her hair and she watches, shocked that he is able to do it without even having to watch the video. He can see her questioning gaze through the mirror, “I’ve been practicing how to do it with my sisters’ help. It took a lot of hair-pulling and arguing, but we were eventually able to nail it.” She feels a rush of heat spread across her neck at the effort Rafe is going through to make their first Halloween together perfect. She never asked him to do any of this, but he went out of his way to make the environment comfortable for her. “Thank you,” she whispers once he is done with her hair, turning to give a kiss on his exposed collarbone in the pirate shirt. He has yet to put on the crown or feather cape they had custom-made based on the fanart they saw. “You’re welcome. Could you help me put on a little eyeliner, please? It seems like something Cardan would do,” Rafe replies, reaching into her makeup bag to bring out the eyeliner. 

She gives a small nod of her head and pats the counter for him to sit on top of. He does as instructed and they both laugh as they realize it made him too tall. Y/N motions over to the toilet for him to sit on. Once he is seated, she brings his head into her hand and starts to apply the eyeliner. He starts to squirm in her hand, making it harder for her to do what she needs to. “Cameron, stop moving,” she chastises, holding onto his head harder. He shakes his head a little, “I can’t. It tickles. 

“Well if you don’t, then it will be all smudged.” 

“Ughh, okay.”

“Rafe Jacob Cameron! Stay still. I’ll give you a kiss if you do.”

“Okay, fine.”

She finishes doing his eyeliner and goes to apply her own lipstick. Rafe is quick to press a kiss onto her lips, smudging her lipstick and imprinting some of it onto his lips. She giggles at the messy lipstick on her boyfriend's lips. She moves from between his legs and goes to get a wet cloth to wipe his lips. “Now, let me get you your crown,” she says, walking over to where it sits in his dress and placing it on his head. Rafe smiles up at her and relishes in the kiss she places on his forehead, “This kinda reminds me of the coronation scene from the book.” 

“Yeah, it kinda does feel like that with you being shorter than me right now. We should’ve gotten Mason to be Oak. Then we can recreate the whole scene.”

“Maybe, but I like this being just an us thing to do.”

“True. I just worry he feels left out sometimes.”

“It’s okay, we can include him when we do family costumes with our kids.”

“When we have kids? You seem to have our future figured out for us, don’t you?”

“I absolutely do. I was thinking you’d probably want to move out to England after you finish at Oxford, which I would definitely follow you to once I finish school. We would have four kids because I know you like the even number and you like the idea of kids always having a playmate. Of course, Sparky would move with us. And the house would definitely need a bay window for you.”

“That’s quite the plan you have. You’d really move to England for me?”

“I’d move to the end of the world for you. You are my forever.”

“You are my forever too.”

But a small part of Y/N can’t help but feel guilty about the idea of making Rafe move. Ever since she overheard Ward talking about the distance, she can’t stop worrying about their future. She knows he always planned to take over his dad’s company after he finished school and she didn’t want to be the reason why he didn’t realize that dream. She knows it’s what he wants to do to make his dad proud. She doesn’t even know what Rafe would do in England with her. It would also mean that they would have four years of being apart before they could be together again and she isn’t sure how she could handle that. Not wanting to think any deeper about it, she snaps out of her spiral and leads him downstairs to get ready for the party. 

��———

Lacey and Mason arrive earlier to help set up for the party; the former with booze in hand and the latter with candy. Lacey is dressed as a chef, true to her future career choice and Mason as a handyman. “So what are you guys supposed to be? Pirate prince with pointy ears and a hot badass knife girl,” Lacey asks with a questioning brow, setting the box of beer cans on the counter. Y/N shakes her head at her best friend’s teasing, “Nooo, I’m Jude Duarte and Cameron is Cardan Greenbriar from The Cruel Prince. Silly.” “Ahh, so it’s a couples costume. Cute,” Mason adds, organizing the candy he brought.

————

The party is in full swing now. Music blaring, people screaming, bodies moving and Y/N is getting nervous. She is lost in a sea of people, getting pushed from every side. At a certain point, she couldn’t keep up with the crowd and tripped onto the ground. She curls into a ball to protect her head and heart. She begins to cry and feels as though her chest is tightening. Lacey had seen what had happened to her best friend and immediately shoves her way through the crowd to help. “Come on, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Lacey picks her up and brings her to Rafe’s room. Lacey sits Y/N on the bed, “Tell me five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell and one you can taste.” “The… The…” Y/N is so frazzled she can’t concentrate on the relaxing technique Lacey suggests. 

Rafe finds the girls in his room after searching everywhere for his rose. He starts piecing the pieces together as to what happened when he sees the pair and rushes to her side. “I’m sorry we got separated, I’m here now. Let’s do some butterfly taps and take some deep breaths in and out for me, my rose,” he advises with his hands rubbing the sides of her hips. He helps her place her hands in a cross on her chest. She copies Rafe’s breathing and begins to tap her collarbones, alternating between the left and right. The other two immediately notice her breathing start to slow down and her shoulders aren’t as tensed. He places a kiss on her forehead now that her breathing is finally steady, “There we go. You’ve got this.” He continues to whisper hushed encouragement to her.

Lacey can’t help but feel jealous at the sight in front of her. She used to be able to help Y/N calm down from a panic attack. Definitely not as fast though. However, she can’t help but feel happy that her best friend has found someone who understands how she works so much. She takes this as her opportunity to slip out of the room and go back to check on the partiers for Rafe, making a mental note to check on Y/N later.

 Oppositely, Rafe is feeling more confident in himself. He thought back to what his father said about knowing sooner rather than later that he couldn’t reassure her. This proves Ward is wrong. Rafe was able to assess the situation without being told what happened and help Y/N through it. He remembered what Y/N said about her panic attacks and jumped into action. He figures the party and getting lost in the crowd are probably the reason for her panic attack. “Wanna ditch the party and see if the pharmacy is already serving discounted chocolate and candies? We can head to the beach and eat it there while watching the waves,” he offers as soon as her breathing has steadied and she moves her hands into his. 

“But what about your party? You and Mason have to stop shutting down your parties before even ten just for me. You’ll both start having a bad reputation.”

“I couldn’t care less about what people think as long as the people I love are safe and healthy. But I was thinking of just letting Mason watch over everything.” 

“I would love to go get candy, but maybe we can go later. I think it would be more fun to go trick or treating. I mean we are in costume.”

Rafe chuckles at her childishness, “Really?! I mean, I don’t object to the idea, but you really think people will give us candy?” 

“Yeah! Not to brag, but everyone on this island loves me.” 

“That’s very true. Come on, let’s go get some clean pillowcases.”

Rafe secures two pillowcases for the pair and sends a quick text to Mason to keep an eye on things for him. Mason replies back quickly saying that he will and asks if Y/N wanted him to come check on her. Rafe answers by telling him she has now calmed down and wishes to go trick or treating. Y/N is excited about going out, but she isn’t sure how to feel entirely about it. She definitely noticed how Rafe would shut down his parties early and forgo going to other parties ever since they started dating. The girl would insist on him going without her or offer to go for an hour or two; however, he would always resist her pleas. She doesn’t want to change his personality, even though he says it is okay. At this moment though, Y/N could not be more glad that he is seriously okay with the idea of going out to get some candy. 

————

The houses on the Kook side of the Island often give out the best candy and it often becomes a competition between the houses. Halloween is the one time a year in which the Kooks do not care if the Pogues are on their property and most Pogues would dare to approach the rich side. Kooks welcome as many people to their houses to prove they offer the best treat with the number of guests coming at their door. Y/N remembers the excitement that would pass around in elementary school as the students would brag about the candies their parents bought. She and Rafe run up the driveway of a house while holding hands giggling like schoolchildren. They arrive at their first house of the night. After going through the trick-or-treating ritual, Y/N reaches into their bag to see what they got as they walk back to the road. Her eyes shine at the red wrapper in her hands. “What is it?” Rafe questions the girl. 

“It’s a Canadian KitKat! Yes, I love these.”

“What’s so special about a Canadian KitKat? We have these in America.”

“The Canadian one isn’t as sweet and it doesn’t leave that weird aftertaste. The chocolate taste much better. I had some when we went up to Canada for my mom’s book tour last summer. Here, try some.”

She quickly opens the package, breaks off a piece of the chocolate and shoves it into his mouth. Rafe’s eyes widen in surprise and he eats the chocolate bar, “Hmm, this is good. Why don’t ours taste like this?” 

“In Canada, KitKat is owned by Nestle and here, it’s owned by Hershey’s.” 

“I see. Well, next time I go to America, I’m going to pack a suitcase full of these for you.”

She looks at him with a huge smile on her face. The pair go to a few more houses and the next house on the street is quite dark. As they approach the house, a little girl dressed as Barbie is walking beside them. Rafe gives her a small smile and a wave. They make their way to the front door to see a duo of teens standing in front of a candy bowl with a please take one sign on a table. The teenage boys laugh as they take the whole bowl of candy without leaving one, even though they saw the little girl. The boys run past the trio without a care in the world. Little Barbie looks at the candy bowl with sad eyes and before Y/N can even do anything, Rafe is handing over his candy bag to her. Her eyes light up and she yells a thank you, running back to her mother at the end of the driveway. The mother waves her hand in thanks to Rafe’s sweet gesture. 

Y/N looks at her boyfriend in awe, “That was so sweet. But now you have no candy. How about we stop by the pharmacy for discount candy and head to the beach?” Rafe nods at the offer and leads her back to where he parked his car. 

————

She is examining the box of candy in front of her when he pops up behind her, wearing Jason’s mask from Friday the 13th. She jumps, startled at his sudden appearance in the strange mask. She gives him a light hit on his bicep and a frown. “Cameron, You scared me! Don’t do that,” Y/N reprimands her partner. Rafe laughs and wraps his arms around her shoulders, “I’m sorry, my rose. I was only playing. I love you.” He kisses her cheeks in hopes to soothe her anger. She shakes her head at him. “Ugh, I guess I love you too. Come on, let’s head to the beach.” 

They head down to the beach with the bag of candy in hand and a blanket wrapped around both of their shoulders. The duo sets themselves a few feet away from the water. The sound of the waves hitting the sand is the only noise that can be heard on the beach. Y/N rests her head on his shoulder and begins to eat the candy they acquired, Rafe looks down at the girl with a grin on his face. She looks more serene than she did at the party and he loves the way she is watching the waves in wonder. 

His life plan was always to go to UNC, graduate, come back home, and work for his father. It was engraved in his mind in his very first memory of his father. It had been their plan and Rafe never questioned it because he thought it was the best path to pleasing his father. He may have known Y/N for more than one-third of his life, but the plan never changed just from knowing her since he never thought he had a chance with her and he just suppressed his feeling for her. But, now, she is his girlfriend and they have a future together. This makes him question everything he thought he wanted for his future. Now, all that mattered to him is her being in the picture and if that meant going off to England with her then he is going to make damn sure he is by her side every step of the way. 

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @terraeluce @f4ll-for-you @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

The Demigod From Asgard - Steve Rogers x Reader (Part 85)

A/N: I realise that today is April Fools but I promise there are no pranks in this!

Summary: To ensure a mission is successful, you have to plan, plan and plan

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Language! Angst!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 85: Time to brainstorm

The next morning everyone gathered to start the first official brainstorming session of the time heist. Monitors showed all the information they already had on the stones ready for them to try and decide where to strike.

“Okay so the how works, now we gotta figure out the when and the where,” Steve says as he turns from the monitors towards the team “almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six infinity stones”

“or substitute the word ‘encounter’ for ‘damn near been killed’ by one of the six infinity stones” Tony interrupts, Steve humming quietly since he couldn’t argue with that.

“well I haven’t” Scott points out “but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about” he admits with a shrug.

“Regardless we only have enough Pym particles for one round trip each and these stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history,” Bruce says as he walks around the conference room.

“our history” Tony corrects “so not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in yeah?”

“which means we have to pick our targets,” Clint says with a sigh.

“Correct” Tony nods taking a sip of his coffee.

“so let's start with the Aether,” Steve says before turning to Thor “Thor what do you know?”

Everyone else turns to face Thor who was sat in the corner of the room, a can of beer in one hand, shades covering his eyes. He remained completely motionless making the team glance around at each other.

“Is he asleep?” Nat questions.

“no, no I’m pretty sure he’s dead” Rhodey mutters.

Everyone glances back over at Steve, but despite the recent progress they’d made in rebuilding their friendship Steve didn’t think it was wise for him to wake him up. Especially since he didn’t know where Stormbreaker was.

“um, Rocket do you mind?” Steve asks nodding over to Thor.

“why me? he’s your brother-in-law” Rocket argues.

“because he’s less likely to accidentally kill you,” Nat reasons.

“yep, c’mon build-a-bear,” Tony says nudging Rocket over towards Thor.

“urgh, fine” Rocket grumbles as he walks over to Thor “hey Thor, wake up buddy” Rocket says lightly kicking Thor’s foot earning no response.

Rocket grumbles in annoyance before jumping up onto Thor’s lap and slapping him hard across the face “Wake up!” he shouts, Thor jumping in surprise.

“what the devil are you doing rabbit!” Thor sputters as he wakes up.

“We need you to tell us about the aether” Rocket says pointing over to the screen as he jumps off Thor’s lap.

Thor clears his throat readjusting his shades as he walks over to the screen “uh where to start? Um…” Thor says as pulls off his shades and tapped them against the screen “the aether, firstly is not a stone, someone called it a stone before” he starts pointing over to Steve with a small glare.

Steve frowns slightly since he thought Thor was just asleep, and not just ignoring him.

“um, it's more of an angry sludge sort of thing so someone’s gonna need to amend that” Thor explains as he drops a couple of eyedrops into his eye “here’s an interesting story though about the aether my grandfather many years ago had to hide the stone from the Dark Elves, ooh scary beings” Thor chuckled.

Steve glances around the room to see everyone had a similar expression to himself, one of complete confusion and slight despair as they listened to Thor rattle off information that actually wasn’t that useful. The only person who looked interested was Scott who was smiling and nodding along, hanging on to Thor’s every word.

“so Jane actually” Thor continues taping the screen until a picture of Jane appeared “oh there she is, yeah so Jane was an old flame of mine you know she stuck her hand inside a rock this one time and then the Aether stuck itself inside her and she became very very sick and so Y/N and I had to take her to Asgard which is where we’re from and we have to try and fix her, we were dating at the time you see, I got to introduce her to my mother,” Thor says before his face falls and Steve knew exactly where his mind had gone “who’s dead and um oh you know Jane and I aren’t even dating anymore so”

Steve glanced over to Bruce with a look that was asking him to try and stop Thor, he was getting too far off track and if he continued there was no way they’d get the information they needed.

“yes, these things happen though you know? Nothing lasts forever, the only thing that…” Thor continues ignoring Bruce’s signal to stop.

“why don’t you come sit down?” Tony says walking over, trying to gently guide Thor away.

“no I’m not done yet” Thor argues “the only thing that is permanent in life is impermanence” he finally finishes.

Tony claps his hands a couple of times “Awesome, eggs? Breakfast?” he offers.

Thor shakes his head “no, I’d like a bloody mary”

“right okay, um well go help yourself, everything you need is in the kitchen,” Tony says gently guiding Thor out of the room.

Once he was gone everyone let out a long sigh, Steve pinching the bridge of his nose, this was not starting off well.

“right well that was a bust” Tony mutters shaking his head “What about you Steve? did Y/N ever mention anything about the Aether?”

Steve sighs shaking his head “not much, that time was really hard for her to talk about, losing Loki and her mother” Steve sighs.

“well we know it was on Asgard for a short period of time and then where did it go?” Nat asks leaning back in her chair.

“the collector had it” Rocket answers “right up until Thanos got it”

“so the question is which is easier to break into?” Clint points out.

“definitely not the collector, he keeps everything very secure and it could take hours just to find it” Rocket says shaking his head.

“well Asgard it is then, Y/N’s phone went off the grid when she went there, Tony do you think you could find an exact date from that?” Steve asks turning to Tony.

“easy, would take 5 minutes tops,” Tony says shrugging his shoulders.

“right that’s one down, 5 to go” Steve sighs looking back at the screens.

“right so we know Thanos had given Loki the sceptre to attack New York meaning there’s no chance of getting the stone before 2012,” Nat says as she reclines back, putting her feet up on the table.

“Exactly, the last thing we want is past Thanos working out what we’re doing” Rhodey points out.

“We know after New York, Strucker had it but we can’t say for certain it was in Sokovia all that time,” Tony says as he paces back and forth.

“and it was then used to create Vision, and there’s no way we can take it then” Steve sighs shaking his head, glancing over at Thor who’d just snorted in his sleep.

“that only leaves the battle of New York and there isn’t really a lot of good opportunities to grab it,” Clint says “I know Loki barely let it out of his sights”

Steve sighs in annoyance, this was proving much more difficult than he expected “I guess that means we could grab the tesseract at the same time, but even that’s going to be difficult”

“is there any other time we could get the cube?” Bruce asks “you had a lot of experience with it in the 40s”

“kind of” Steve sighs turning to face one of the screens “I never really got close to it, the Red Skull had been using it to create weapons of mass destruction”

“like the kind Strucker made?” Rhodey asks walking over to stand next to Steve.

“yeah, it took years for us to finally break into his base in an attempt to steal it, we nearly had him but he boarded a plane, I only just managed to climb on to stop him” Steve recalls, the time in his life before physically and figuratively a lifetime ago “I fought him, but he managed to get hold of the tesseract, but for whatever reason it caused him to burn up or something” Steve sighs rubbing his chin.

“and what happened to the tesseract after that?” Rhodey asks.

“it’s at the bottom of the ocean, it fell out of the plane just before I had to crash it” Steve sighs.

“yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask, why did you have to crash the plane anyway?” Rhodey asks frowning slightly as he pointed over at Steve.

Steve let out a deep sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest “there were bombs on board”

“bombs onboard” Rhodey mutters “and you couldn’t have jumped out of the plane before you crashed it?” he asks after a moment of silence.

Steve’s jaw instantly clenched, what Rhodey asked was a fair question, one Steve had even asked himself in the first couple of months after he’d woken up. Of course, there was a part of Steve that missed his old life, but if he had to do it all again he wouldn’t change a thing.

“well, all things considered, I think I made the right choice” Steve states his tone sharp as he turns away from Rhodey.

He sits down at the table with a heavy sigh pinching the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he took a couple of deep breaths. When he opened his eyes he spotted Nat and Clint giving him a sympathetic look, Nat mouthing ‘are you okay?’, to which Steve just nods his head.

“Why don’t we take a break we’ve been at this for hours” Tony suggests glancing around the room.

Upon hearing that Thor shot up from the couch he was napping on “yes, drink anyone?” Thor asks clapping his hands together, not even waiting for a response before sauntering out of the room.

“right okay, I have a good guess at what kind of drink he’s after but I’m gonna get a coffee,” Tony says pointing in the direction of the door.

Slowly everyone started filtering out of the room, but Steve remained sat in his seat staring up at the screens. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy to find the when and the where but he had been hoping they’d made more progress.

“hey you alright man?” Clint asks slapping Steve on the shoulder “don’t listen to what Rhodey said, he wasn’t trying to say you made the wrong choice”

Steve sighs nodding his head “no I know, guess I’m just a little defensive around Y/N and JJ” he says looking up at Clint.

Clint lets out a small huff of a laugh “of course, you’re a father” he says knowingly “are you gonna head home soon?”

Steve purses his lips in thought shrugging his shoulder “I dunno, I don’t like spending time away from JJ, we went out for ice cream yesterday because he said I hadn’t been around recently, but I want to get this done, the sooner we get everyone back the better”

Clint nods before clearing his throat “look Steve, if I had even just one of my kids around right now I’d be spending every moment I could with them, I want to bring everyone back as quickly as you do but kids grow up so fast, and you’ll regret not spending as much time as possible with them” he says.

Steve nods “thank you Clint, and we’ll get them back I promise,” he says standing up from his chair.

“I know, and look if it makes you feel better, we’ll work on the power stone tonight so you won’t really need to be with us to help” Clint offers.

“Thanks Clint, I appreciate it” Steve smiles “I’ll see you in the morning”

“see you in the morning, give JJ a hug for me,” Clint says as Steve grabs his jacket.

After Steve had dropped JJ off at school he made his way back to the compound where he met with Nat, Nebula, Bruce, Scott, Clint and Rocket.

“hey did I miss much?” Steve asks as he walks over.

“not much, we figured we can only get the power stone from Morag, and Nebula was just about to tell us about the Soul stone,” Nat says looking over her shoulder at him from her spot on the couch.

“Great, well by all means carry on,” Steve says gesturing for Nebula to continue.

Nebula nods stiffly turning to glance at the screen before turning back to the group “The soul stone was the stone me and my sister were tasked with finding, I never did but Gamora discovered where it was” Nebula starts “she tried to keep it from him but couldn’t and Thanos found the soul stone on Vormir”

“what is Vormir?” Nat asks as she scribbles notes down on her pad.

“a dominion of death, at the very center of celestial existence,” Nebula says “it’s where Thanos murdered my sister”

A heavy silence falls in the room as the information sinks in, nobody really knowing what to say. Steve felt especially lost since he barely knew Nebula, when he glanced over at Rocket he saw he was equally lost and sad. Steve lets out a quick sigh as he bows his head, the weight of the room feeling heavy on his shoulder, not just from the grief but knowing that this was another stone that didn’t sound easy to get.

“not me” Scott muttered under his breath, voicing what everyone was thinking

“Is there any place else the stone has been?” Steve asks hopefully.

“no, it has always been there, right up until Thanos took it,” Nebula says with a slight shake of her head.

“Well, I guess we have another one down” Bruce points out trying to be optimistic.

“yes, lets uh take a coffee break, see how the others are doing,” Steve says clearing his throat.

Everyone nods in agreement, grabbing the various notebooks and files that had been scattered around. They make their way through to the larger conference room where the others were working. As they rounded the corner it appeared they had walked into a heated discussion.

“Are you mad!” Thor booms as he paces back and forth in front of Tony and Rhodey.

“whoa, what’s going on?” Nat asks as they step inside.

“I’m struggling to see your point here pointbreak,” Tony says shaking his head.

“yeah everyone knows what went down, he was in the wrong,” Rhodey says agreeing with Tony.

“no, he didn’t! it was over he was free to do whatever he wants” Thor argues shaking his head.

“guys what are you talking about?” Steve asks but his voice is drowned out by Tony's shouting.

“he cheated on her!” Tony exclaims throwing his arm out.

“they were on a break!” Thor shouts slamming his fist down on the table.

“are they talking about friends?” Scott asks frowning in confusion.

“I doubt it,” Nat says shaking her head.

“Ross cheated on Rachel man, she never should have taken him back” Rhodey argues crossing his arms over his chest.

“or maybe they are” Nat mutters slowly.

“Guys, guys stop,” Steve says trying to get their attention “Hey!” he finally shouts, the three men all quickly turning to face him “what the hell is going on? Friends really?”

“yeah don’t ask I don’t know how we got onto it” Rhodey mutters shaking his head.

“right well please tell me you’ve made some progress” Steve sighs rubbing his forehead.

“depends on your point of view,” Tony says as he stands up from his chair “we’ve worked out that one option is we get both the tesseract and the aether from Asgard, since the tesseract was in the vault until Loki stole it just before they had to escape”

Steve hums nodding his head “is the vault easy to get in to?” Steve asks looking over at Thor.

"yes very, I could easily walk straight in” Thor nods.

“but what about the sceptre?” Nat points out.

“we’re still stuck with either the Battle of New York or stealing it from Sokovia, right before we attacked the base” Tony sighs as he moves over to the screens, pulling up the picture of the Sokovian base.

“that base wasn’t the easiest to get into” Clint points out, gesturing down to the area where he got shot.

“and that was with the 7 of us” Nat sighs, biting her lower lip anxiously.

“we’re already spread thin, we’re most likely going to be working in pairs or three’s” Steve says shaking his head “it’ll be too risky to storm the base in a team that small, especially since the twins will be there”

“is there another option?” Bruce asks.

“just that we get the sceptre in New York,” Tony says shrugging his shoulder “which means we may as well try and get the tesseract at the same time”

“And what about the time stone? Anything on that?” Steve questions.

“nope we know very little about it, we’re just waiting on Wong to get back to us see if he has any useful information,” Rhodey says shaking his head.

“right well let's just focus on the sceptre and the tesseract, see if we can find an easier time to grab them” Nat sighs.

After another afternoon with little to no progress, Steve was currently debating whether to go back to the compound for the evening. He’d picked JJ up from school and even taken him to the park with Scout for a game of fetch. Hearing JJ’s laugh as he ran around with scout easily lifted Steve’s mood, he even decided to let it slide when he caught JJ sneaking carrots off his plate at dinner.

He was just washing up all the pots and pans from dinner, JJ already fast asleep upstairs when he heard his phone ringing. Glancing over his shoulder he instantly stood to attention when he saw Nat’s name flashing on his screen. Quickly drying his hands and grabbing for his phone.

“what is it? what’s wrong?” he asks as soon as the line connects.

“We did it, we worked it out,” Nat says making Steve’s jaw drop.

“How?” he asks unable to find any other words.

“Strange lived in New York, the time stone was in New York” Nat explains, Steve muttering to himself as he realised what that meant.

“which means it was there when Loki attacked,” he says shaking his head in disbelief, the answer had been in front of them the entire time.

“Exactly, so we can get the time stone, the sceptre and the tesseract in one hit” Nat points out.

“shit” Steve muttered still trying to comprehend that they’d done it.

“exactly we just need to decide who goes after what” Nat sighs.

Steve begins to pace back and forth in the kitchen, his mind trying to work a million miles per hour “well Thor will have to go to Asgard, and maybe take Rocket with him” Steve says rubbing his forehead.

“agreed, and Nebula could maybe go after the power stone, I would suggest the soul but that might be too close to home,” Nat says thinking out loud “who could go with her?”

“Rhodey springs to mind, any of us original five could go to New York and not arise suspicion, and Scott could be helpful there,” Steve says rubbing his chin.

“True, I know Tony took the cube so maybe he could intercept himself there? you could go after the sceptre?” Nat suggests.

“yeah that sounds good, what about the time stone?” Steve asks.

“I’d say Bruce, Strange only ever encountered Tony and Bruce, and out of the two of those Bruce is probably the safest option ego-wise,” Nat says making Steve snort with laughter.

“that just leaves you and Clint to go after the soul stone….” Steve sighs “will you be okay with that? I know Nebula didn’t really give us much information about Vormir but it didn’t sound pretty,” he asks.

Nat lets out a long sigh on the other end of the line, going silent for a couple of moments before answering “yeah, I’m sure I’ve handled worse, plus this is the best way”

“only if you’re sure,” Steve says giving her a chance to change her mind.

“I’m sure Steve” she promises.

“Good, so we’ve got Thor and Rocket going after the Aether, Tony, Scott and myself will get the cube and sceptre, Bruce will handle the time stone, Nebula and Rhodey will get the power stone and you and Clint will get the stone” Steve summarises.

“sounds about right, we can plan something a bit more detailed tomorrow so get some rest and maybe a glass of scotch to celebrate” Nat smirks.

“I will” Steve chuckles, turning when he heard the backdoor opening, Roberta poking her head in “when does Tony think everything will be ready?” he asks.

“Monday morning, I know you want this done sooner rather than later but I think having the weekend to prepare will be good, maybe you can take JJ pumpkin picking” Nat suggests.

“yeah, but only if you’ll join us,” Steve says making Nat chuckle gently.

“wouldn’t miss it, I’ll see you tomorrow Steve” Nat chuckles.

“see you tomorrow Nat” Steve smiles as he puts down the phone.

“so are my services needed tonight?” Roberta asks putting her hands on her hips.

Steve smiles shaking his head “we did it, we worked out how to get all the stones” he says barely able to hold back his smile.

“oh Steve, I’m so happy for you” Roberta beams as she walks over to hug him.

“thank you, I know everything could still go wrong and we could still fail but we’re nearly there, she’s nearly home and I can’t believe it” Steve mutters shaking his head.

“we’ll believe it, and stop it with all that failure nonsense,” Roberta says waving him off “you can do this Steve, you will do this, so stop doubting yourself and just go for it”

Steve smiles down at Roberta “thank you, it means a lot to me” he grins “now I don’t need you to babysit anymore, but would you join me for a celebratory toast?” Steve asks grabbing the scotch from the top cabinet.

“you know I’ll never say no to that” Roberta smirks as Steve pours out two measures of scotch, passing her a glass.

“to getting everyone back,” Roberta says holding out her glass.

“to getting everyone back” Steve smiles tapping his glass against hers.

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[birchkillchronicles]

Getting to Marigold

Chapter Three

First Frost, Bittersweet, Linen

            “Peacocks are the birds I’d shoot first,” grimaced Roberta Tsang.  She flicked a contemptuous finger at the damask cushion’s turquoise, plum and gold Argus eyes.

            Seven unremarkable days had slipped by since Jeanie’d attended Lindy’s play, and here she was picking through the merchandise at the city’s biggest neighbourhood garage sale in July. 

Her former boss—a savvy businesswoman who hailed from a family of Chinese immigrants—regarded the hapless cushion with unveiled disgust.

Roberta was renowned for hating chintz.      

Today’s weather isn’t being particularly kind to soft furnishings either, sighed Jeanie.  It’s threatening rain, and we’ll be lucky if we can avoid a real soaking… 

But—‘Let a smile be your umbrella…’ 

So—“Oh, I don’t know,” Jeanie objected in what she hoped was a perky tone. “I’ve always been attracted to iridescent plumage myself.”

            “Except that peacocks are actually just trumped up chickens with attitude,” laughed Roberta, averting her eyes from the odious item.  “In real life, you wouldn’t want one messing up your lawn.”

            “That’s probably true,” granted Jeanie, scanning the shabby treasures offered by this vendor.  “It’s always important to keep your grass free of large feathery fowl.”

“You bet,” agreed Roberta, with mock gravity. “Look at the way those dreadful Canada geese have absolutely ruined our parks!”

            For Jeanie, this offhand banter felt comfortably familiar.  And—without Sylvie to accompany her on all her favourite outings—‘comfortably familiar’ was exactly what Jeanie craved.  

A familiar outing. 

With comfortable conversation. 

That was all…

Don and Bernie, Jeanie had to admit to herself, are dreadful at familiar outings and comfortable conversation.  Neither one of them really wants to go with me to garage sales or antique stores or on shopping trips to the mall.  And, if I do insist, they just trail behind me—all glum and bored—and completely spoil my happy vibe.

Not like Roberta. 

Not like an honest-to-goodness friend. 

Not like Sylvie—that’s for darn sure!

Sylvie…my soft-hearted Sylvie…the greatest gal pal of all time…

On another cool, wet day more than twenty years ago, Jeanie had met Sylvie Dandie in the Algonquin College ‘A to D’ registration line.  And, vividly, she remembered Sylvie’s dazzling choice of attire—

A marigold rain cape that set her ivory skin aglow… 

It wasn’t a shade that Jeanie could have pulled off, and she’d never have selected that outerwear style.  But—for Sylvie—the spicy-orange garment enfolded her body in late summer sunshine, perfectly complementing her Deep Autumn ginger-red hair and golden-brown eyes.

And there they’d been—two mature married moms—completely surrounded by fresh-faced teenagers.  So, naturally, the pair of thirty-something women had fallen into conversation.  And very quickly they’d discovered that their lives jibed. 

They’d both wed slightly older guys while they were still in university—Jeanie at Simon Fraser, Silvie at Mount Allison—and quit their Bachelor of Fine Arts halfway through to work in the antique and vintage furniture trade…

They’d both moved away from their extended families—Jeanie from British Columbia, Sylvie from New Brunswick—so their brainy husbands could come to Ottawa and climb skyward in their Federal Government careers… 

They’d both been stay-at-home moms whose challenging kids—Bernie and Nick—were finally heading for First Grade.  And, searching for flexible, creative, mom-friendly jobs, they were both at the college enrolling in Interior Design…

They’d gossiped and they’d laughed and they’d shared their points of view.  And, by the time they’d reached the registrar, Jeanie and Sylvie had known for certain that they’d been fated to meet in that slow line.  Because—as Sylvie had noted with mock solemnity—if Jeanie had taken Donald Todd’s surname instead of keeping her own, she’d have been on the opposite side of the building in the T to Zeds line!

And they’d both always agreed that a first-time meeting in the hustle and bustle of unfamiliar classrooms wouldn’t have felt the same at all.

They’d never have shared that first long, friendly chat… 

They’d never have agreed to divvy up the drive to their weekday classes between their minivans… 

And, missing those companionable forty minutes a day, they’d never have cemented their unbelievably firm and lasting bond.  

Cheering each other on—together, they’d crossed the stage to accept their Interior Design diplomas.  Together, they’d applied for jobs.  And, together, they’d been hired as part-time junior consultants by Roberta Tsang’s Bank Street firm.

Very quickly, Jeanie had realized that ‘consulting’ all too often meant compromising her creative design ideas with those of the pesky customers.  And that, inevitably, her daughter had needed more care as a grade-schooler than she’d been anticipating.  So, she’d gladly accepted Roberta’s offer to have her manage the front desk as a part-time receptionist instead.   

Which had proven to be a perfect fit.

She hadn’t been bilingual like Sylvie, but she’d perfected such a poor French accent to answer the phone—‘Hello, Bong-jure?’—that their Quebec customers had immediately switched to English every time.  And, with feisty Jeanie in full terrier mode, backsliding clients with delinquent accounts had nowhere safe to hide!

Always more willing—as Jeanie’s mother would say—‘to go-along to get-along,’ Sylvie had pushed forward with her career.  But, even as she’d earned more professional qualifications and been promoted to a full-time position at Roberta’s firm, she’d always discussed every project with Jeanie.  And, invariably, her best friend’s exacting taste in colour had influenced Sylvie’s final designs.

In fact, for years and years and years, Jeanie and Sylvie had spoken daily.  With nary a break, they’d researched and sourced and conceptualised.  Each February, they’d hopped the morning train to spend the day at a major design fair in Montreal.  And, almost every weekend without fail, Jeanie and Sylvie had savoured a Girls Day Out.

They’d rummaged through antique and vintage markets and treated each other to delicious lunches...

They’d shopped for clothes and shoes and hunted through discount stores for craft and scrapbook supplies...

They’d purchased First Frost hostas to plant in each others’ gardens.  Picked up iced shortbread cookies at the local bakery.  And bought each other presents of make-up or jewellery ‘just because!’

Sylvie had been the best garage sale chum, reflected Jeanie—always able to winnow the wheat from the chaff…the best shopping buddy—always quickest to find gold on the mark-down racks…and the best coffee confidante—always bringing clarity and sympathy to both sides of every juicy debate…

After a while, Sylvie’s marriage had gone sideways.  And Jeanie knew that, as a loyal, loving partner, Sylvie had been truly broken-hearted when her snake of a husband had announced that he’d fallen in lust with his secretary and would be slithering out the door. 

But, in Sylvie’s usual resourceful way, she’d taken it as an opportunity to move with her teenaged son into a low-rise condo across from the university in Old Ottawa South.  And so, for almost eleven happy years, as fast friends—true sisters in all but blood—Jeanie and Sylvie had been able to trot over to each others’ abodes whenever they’d felt like mingling their professional or domestic lives.

Yes, those were fantastic times, sighed Jeanie.  The Virtual Twins—Don’s moniker for us—were truly the closest, the warmest, the very best of gal pals! 

And when breast cancer reared its ugly head in both of our bodies, we supported each other faithfully through the squishing and the poking and the prodding...through the surgeries and the rounds and rounds of chemo…through the weeks and weeks of radiation…through the endless oncology appointments... 

Until, in the end, I came out healthy and strong—if scarred and missing a chunk of my left breast—and Sylvie died.

Sylvie died…

“Oooh, look, Jeanie.  A mid-century teak sideboard!” Roberta was pointing to a nearby driveway.  “There’s something you’ll want to snap up!”

Dragging her mind back from the brink, Jeanie straightened her shoulders and plastered on a glassy smile.  “Right up my alley!” she cried, gamely heading over to take a closer look.  

Jeanie couldn’t abide whingeing from others, and she certainly wasn’t going to tolerate it in herself.  No good ever came from concentrating on downbeat feelings, she thoroughly believed… 

As Sylvie would say, ‘Where there’s life, there’s hope!’ 

So, yes, Sylvie is gone, Jeanie told herself, striding doggedly toward the promising sideboard.  But she wouldn’t thank me for maundering over her death like some weepy heroine from a cheesy romance novel.  Not when there are exciting bargains to discover and so many other material joys to be had in this living world!

As my mother would say, ‘Don’t think.  Don’t feel.  Just do.’  

And Sylvie would certainly want me to follow that advice!

The teak sideboard was less impressive up close—it was dented on one side—and the churlish vendor didn’t have anything else in better shape.  So, Jeanie and Roberta moved rapidly down the street to a tag sale display at an old greystone house.

And, suddenly, there it was! 

The most perfect mid-century-modern table lamp! 

Its textured off-white matte glazed body was highlighted with smooth tongues of soft-pink, lime-green, citron-yellow, bittersweet-orange, navy-blue, carob-brown and royal-purple.  The solid dark wood—probably walnut?—neck and base were unmarred.  And, although it had no shade, the harp and finial were shiny brass, and the cord and plug showed little wear.    

“That’s got to be an original from the nineteen-fifties,” approved Roberta as Jeanie carefully lifted the lamp from its surrounding objects.

“It sure looks like it.” Jeanie ran her hand blindly over the base to feel for cracks or flaws.  There were none, and so she allowed herself to picture the piece—complete with a new drum lampshade—brightening Bernie’s gloomy old mole’s nest.  “I wonder what the seller wants?”

When they did finally track down the sour-faced householder, to Jeanie’s delight, she obviously didn’t have a clue what the lamp should actually be worth. 

“Oh, that damn thing,” she shrugged. “It belonged to my mother, and I’ve never liked it much.  Would ten be too much?  Or—since it doesn’t even come with a shade—say, five?”

Hiding her glee, Jeanie handed over a five dollar bill and, borrowing Roberta’s car keys, tucked her booty under her arm and jogged back to wrap it up securely in a blanket in the trunk.  Then she rejoined her former boss for another half hour of congenial bargain hunting—until, that is, the rain began to wash down in sheets and drowned out all of their rummaging fun.

Still, there was lunch to look forward to, and Roberta was keen to get a table at a popular Italian bistro.  They found a rare two-hour parking spot on a side street and—although it was a near thing—the busy host promised she’d manage to squeeze them into a corner at the very back.  Waving blithely to designer acquaintances at other tables, they threaded through the late lunching throng and were soon seated at a repurposed cherrywood dinette.  They ordered a half litre of Riesling to share and began to debate whether to go with the featured pasta or the fish. 

Not quite an hour later—with delicious plates of porcini mushroom ravioli and seared arctic char tucked away and coffee and dessert declined—Jeanie and Roberta were ready to spend a final gratifying hour searching in the nearby vintage shops for a perfect mid-century-modern lampshade.  Jeanie was seriously considering spending almost fifty dollars on a not-quite-right silk one at their second last stop—before ultimately finding a textbook linen shade in a thrift store for a super-frugal ten bucks! 

Now giddy from her shrewd purchases, Jeanie asked Roberta to drop her off at home.  Scurrying inside, she hung up her damp umbrella, coat and scarf in the mudroom and toted her prizes into the kitchen.  There, Bernie and Don were digging into left-over homemade lasagna at the granite-topped island.

“You two are eating kind of late, don’t you think?” Jeanie frowned, as she carefully off-loaded the lamp and the shade and slipped her tote bag from her shoulder to hang up on its usual peg.

“It’s Sunday,” returned Bernie with her mouth full and her gaze unwavering from her phone.  “Who cares?”

“I had a big breakfast,” added Don.  He’d positioned his handheld tablet so he could work on a solitaire puzzle while he ate.

“Just sayin’…”  Jeanie fitted the vintage drum shade onto the colourful lamp base.  “There.  Isn’t that beautiful?”

“If you say so,” muttered Bernie, swiping left as she chewed on a piece of broccoli.

“Well, I hope that you like it,” said Jeanie. “Because it’s for your bedroom.”

“Mom.” 

Come on.  No way.  Forget that.

“What?” asked Jeanie, briskly.  Her daughter hadn’t even bothered to look up at her amazing purchase.

“I don’t need another lamp in my bedroom.”

“Sure you do,” coaxed Jeanie.  “During the day, it’ll provide a pop of colour and, in the evening, it’ll light up all those murky corners.”

Bernie put down her fork and her phone and faced her mother.  “I don’t need—” she clearly enunciated, “—another lamp in my bedroom.”

“But it’s so dull and dreary in there—”

“I like my bedroom the way it is.”

“—and it would only be just a little change—” 

“I like my bedroom the way it is.”

“—and just adding a teensy bit of lightness—a teensy bit of colour—would make—” 

“No, Mom!” Bernie decisively cut her mother off. “It’s my room, and I’m keeping it the way I want.  Stick that thing someplace else.”

“Fine!”  snapped Jeanie, already tired of arguing with her frustrating kidlet.  “Where else would you like me to put it?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” sighed Bernie, picking up her phone and feeling around for her fork.  “Put it in Daddy’s study or something.  He won’t even notice.”

“Won’t even notice what?” asked Don, dog-whistled by the word ‘Daddy’ but still eyes-down on his game.

“Oh, I give up on both of you!’ snarled Jeanie. “I try my best!  But you’re nothing but a couple of blind, ungrateful moles!”

With that heartfelt insult, Jeanie ditched the infuriating pair.  And, grabbing a dry scarf, her raincoat and umbrella from the mudroom, she stormed outside once more.

[hogwartseighthyear]

lessons in apparition

“your girl” series: part 1 | part 2 | (part 3) | part 4

(can be read as a standalone)

pairing: neville longbottom x fem!reader word count: 1.9k tags: rated G, house-neutral reader, outsider POV, fluff, pre-relationship, injury mentioned but not in explicit detail, Y/N used summary: neville jumps to your rescue during an apparition lesson gone wrong. note: set in sixth year, it’s less neville’s friends knowing he’s stupidly in love with you and more so neville’s friends knowing you’re both stupidly in love with each other. i skimmed over chapter 18 of HBP for canon compliancy’s sake, and i had a lot of fun writing this one. enjoy and thanks for reading!   request: (anon) “Can I ask for a part 3 of your girl/part 2 of crush where we get more moments of nevilles friends knowing he's in love but in later years?″ [x]   (cross-posted here to AO3)

“I’m just saying, Ronald, it wouldn’t kill you to be a little more—”

“Ronald, it wouldn’t kill you to be a little more—”

“Oh, mocking me again? Hilarious, really. That one certainly never gets old.”

“It’s not my fault you’re too bloody uptight to take a joke!”

“And it’s not my fault you’re too empty-headed to come up with anything original!”

Harry sighed as Ron and Hermione descended into yet another petty fight. They’d been at each other’s throats for months now, ever since Lavender had firmly attached herself to Ron’s side (and attached her mouth to his mouth, constantly), and Harry was getting quite tired of it.

It was Saturday morning—the morning of their second Apparition lesson—and despite the fact that the three of them had walked to the Great Hall together, Ron and Hermione had been so busy having a spat that they hadn’t said a single word to Harry the whole way there. So it wasn’t at all surprising that neither of them seemed to notice when Harry stepped away and swiftly headed off in the opposite direction.

He loved Ron and Hermione dearly, of course, but if he had to listen to them fight for a single minute longer he was certain he’d go insane.

The wooden hoops were already spread out on the floor and all the other sixth years chattered amongst themselves as they filtered into the Hall and found their places. Harry was careful not to trip as he weaved through the room, scanning his classmates for a friendly face. He would’ve liked to have taken the chance to eavesdrop on Malfoy again, just like the previous lesson, but he and his Slytherin cronies weren’t present yet.

“Oh, hello, Harry!”

Harry turned to find Neville waving happily at him. You were also there at Neville’s side, as you often were, and you sent Harry a smile. Harry let out a breath of relief and walked over. Perhaps he was only trading one pair of oblivious friends for another, but at least the two of you were actually pleasant to be around.

“Hey, Neville, Y/N. Mind if I stand with you guys?” Harry asked.

“‘Course not, you’re always welcome. Are Ron and Hermione still…?” Neville trailed off with a grimace.

“Being complete dunderheads?” Harry filled in. “Yes, unfortunately.”

You and Neville peered across the Great Hall over Harry’s shoulder, where said dunderheads were still arguing. Ron’s face was flushed red with anger and Hermione’s hand gestures had become increasingly animated. People were starting to cast odd looks their way, and Professor McGonagall was already approaching with a stern expression. Presumably to break up their squabble and take away house points.

“Goodness. They fight like an old married couple,” you commented.

“A miserable old married couple,” Neville said.

Harry thought the comparison was a bit ironic. If any two students at Hogwarts acted like an old married couple, it was you and Neville—but in a more wholesome and heartwarming way. So much so that it was a little sickening at times.

Neville made your tea for you each morning at breakfast, just the way you like it. You straightened his tie and fixed his hair without being asked. You finished each other’s sentences and cry-laughed at inside jokes no one else could ever hope to understand.

Frankly, Harry thought it was almost offensive that you and Neville weren’t dating already, as did everyone else who knew the two of you. But whatever. It wasn’t exactly any of his business. And anyway, these days Harry already had to deal with enough unresolved romantic tension just by being in proximity of Ron and Hermione.

“Do either of you reckon anyone will actually manage to Apparate today?” Harry asked conversationally as the Heads of Houses gathered at the front of the Great Hall and began calling for everyone to ready up and find a hoop.

“Well it certainly won’t be me. But Padma told me she felt a ‘tugging sensation’ during the last lesson. She seems really determined,” you offered. “What about you, Harry? Nev said you’ve done it once before. Maybe you’ll pick it up quicker since you already know what it’s like.”

“Only a Side-Along,” Harry clarified. “I’m not keen to do it again, honestly. It felt awful. I’d rather take a broom if I need to go anywhere. Or, y’know, use my legs.”

“That’s understandable,” you said, nodding. “I’m still excited to learn how to Apparate, though. It must be so useful to pop from one place to another just like”—you snapped your fingers—“that.”

“I just hope no one gets Splinched again this time around,” Neville said with a little shudder. “Seeing Susan’s leg like that was—”

“—ghastly,” you finished. “Poor Susan.”

The sixth years in the Hall quieted down as Wilkie Twycross, the Apparition instructor from the Ministry, stepped forward and welcomed everyone to their second lesson. Without anymore preamble, he dove straight into the same lecture he had given a week before. Remember the three D’s! Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

Neville sarcastically mouthed along, making you giggle. In turn, Neville beamed at you like you’d hung all the stars in the sky. And Harry, watching the whole display, didn’t know whether the sugary sweetness of it made him want to smile or throw up. Still, your and Neville’s affection was leagues better than Ron and Hermione’s antagonism. So he really couldn’t complain.

Just like the week prior, the first few Apparition attempts yielded a great deal of staggering and stumbling, but nothing more. Harry still didn’t feel any sort of tugging or tingling. He just felt a bit silly, staring at a wooden hoop and spinning in place time after time to absolutely no avail.

“Merlin!” you huffed after the seventh attempt. “Why do we even have to twirl like this? I swear I’ve seen people Disapparate without twirling.”

Standing between you and Harry, Neville had squeezed his eyes shut and bent forward to rest his hands on his knees, trying to ride out his dizziness. “I dunno. Aesthetic and flare?” he guessed.

You snorted. “Imagine!”

“Determination!” Twycross was reminding everyone from the front of the Hall. “Feel the yearning to occupy the hoop throughout your body, mind, and soul. Let it overcome you.”

Nearby, Seamus had sprawled out on the floor with a defeated expression, and Professor Flitwick was worriedly holding a conjured bin in front of Terry’s face, which had turned a concerning shade of green.

After a short recess, the sixth years collected themselves as best they could and readied up for another go. There was a distinct, mounting tension in the air. This would be the class’s eighth attempt. Nothing had happened yet, but the trend had to break eventually. The question was who would be the first, and how.

Though Harry knew the universe had a penchant for repeatedly placing him in extraordinary situations at the center of everyone’s attention, he really, really hoped it wouldn’t be him. He would be just fine if he never Apparated again in his life, thank you very much.

“Alright, students. Once again, on my count,” Twycross announced. “One… two… THREE!”

There was a loud CRACK, followed by a shriek of pain.

Harry whipped around to see you standing in your hoop, teetering in place, with one of your shoes sitting a short distance away. But it wasn’t just your shoe. It was your shoe with the foot still inside, just past the ankle.

Neville shouted in alarm. There was a second CRACK. And all of the sudden, Neville was also standing in your hoop, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from toppling over.

“PROFESSOR!” he yelled as you held onto him with a death grip, crying into the front of his sweater.

It was unclear which professor Neville was calling out for, but it didn’t seem to matter. Out of the four Heads of Houses in the Great Hall, it was Snape who happened to be the closest, and he quickly strode over in a great billowing mass of black robes. To general astonishment, Neville didn’t flinch or shrink away. He barely even glanced at Snape. All of his care and concern was focused entirely on you.

With a sharp wave of his wand, Professor Snape cast the proper spell, which shot off with a bang and a puff of purple smoke. Once the smoke cleared, Harry saw that your foot had been firmly reattached to your leg, though you still whimpered and clung to Neville.

The rest of the sixth years in the Hall, who had all been watching in silent shock, started to murmur. Harry rushed over to you and Neville.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” he asked.

“I-I think�� I think I need to sit down,” you stammered through your tears.

Neville immediately lowered you to the floor, not releasing his hold on you. Harry followed, dropping to his knee as the three of you huddled together. You trembled fiercely.

“Do you need to be escorted to the hospital wing, Miss L/N?” Snape asked, his voice even and unexpressive. You had been one of his more competent Potions students when he was still teaching the subject, which was enough to spare you from his usual nastiness, apparently, despite Neville and Harry’s presence: Snape’s two least favorite students.

You shook your head, sniffling and wiping at your cheeks.

“Are you sure? Even for a Calming Draught?” Neville asked worriedly, patting you down as if checking for any other missing pieces.

“No, no. Just… give me a minute,” you breathed. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”

Snape stepped away, allowing you to collect yourself. Neville rubbed his hands up and down the sides of your arms, and Harry placed one of his own hands on your knee, giving it a supportive little pat. He wasn’t too adept at comforting other people, but he tried.

“Sir! I think Longbottom just Apparated!” someone from the crowd finally called out to Twycross, and the murmurs exploded into excited, noisy chatter.

“Longbottom? No way!”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Oh, come on!”

“I saw it! He Apparated!”

“It’s true, Longbottom Apparated!”

Neville frowned and glanced around at all the gawking students. “What? No I didn’t.”

“Yeah you did, mate,” Harry said. Despite the fact that he still felt rather shaken by the whole ordeal, a wide grin had worked its way onto his face. “You didn’t even have to do a spin.”

You laughed wetly in Neville’s arms. “I knew it. The twirls are useless.”

Twycross had wandered over to peer at the lot of you on the floor, his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Ah, yes. An excellent example of sufficient determination at work,” he said. He turned to address the other sixth years. “Your whole entire being must want to move to your desired location, and you must be unwavering in that want. Now, while Apparition may come easier in moments of high emotion, it will do all of you well to remember…”

Harry tuned out the rest of Twycross’s lecture, suppressing an eye roll, and looked back to you and Neville.

Neville had turned quite pink, and the enamored smile you were directing his way certainly didn’t help matters. Harry’s own face heated in embarrassment at the sight, feeling as though he was suddenly intruding on something far too tender for his own eyes. He quickly removed his hand from your knee. You didn’t seem to notice.

“You know you’re amazing, right?” you said to Neville.

“I didn’t really do anything—”

“Don’t,” you said gently, and reeled him in for a hug. Harry heard a muffled thank you against Neville’s shoulder. He took a shaky breath and held you tighter in response.

Harry stood and returned to his hoop, leaving you and Neville behind for a moment of privacy. Yeah, that was enough unresolved romantic tension for him today.

[marauderundercover]

Hanging By a Thread

Marinette stares at her parents, trying hard to stop herself from panicking. Because if she panicked, apparently Hawkmoth could take control of her and make her a villain. Which would apparently be catastrophic according to the little creature that popped out of the earrings a couple weeks ago. Not panicking was going to be hard. 

“You’re- you’re sending me away?” She says, her voice breaking. Her maman’s face crumbles and she crouches in front of her spot on the couch. 

“Oh Marinette, honey, we’re just trying to do what’s best for you. We’re trying to keep you safe. That’s all we’ve ever wanted to do.” Her maman says softly, reaching up and brushing hair out of her face. Marinette tries hard to ignore the tightness in her chest and the tears that threaten to fall. 

“Did…did he even know about me?” Marinette asks, frowning at the look on her mom’s face. “You know, before you called?” She adds. Her parents look at each other, and Marinette’s eyebrows furrow together. “You did call him, right?” She asks. 

“Actually, cupcake, your nonna has a friend-” Her dad starts, and Marinette feels her shoulders slump. “Sabine?” He says, her mom’s name coming out as a sigh. 

“Marinette, your mother was very clear. Your father didn’t know about you, and she felt it wasn’t our place to know who he was either.” She says. Marinette blinks. 

“So apparently, I’m adopted, and you’re sending me away, but not to anyone that you personally know. Or anyone my birth mother knew, but someone that nonna mentioned in passing?” Marinette asks, feeling like her world is crashing around her. 

“Paris isn’t safe anymore, mon chou. And I’m not sure when it will be. We have the bakery, we can’t leave. But you- Marinette, you shouldn’t have to shut off your emotions and regulate everything you feel. You should feel free to be angry, or sad, or have a nightmare.” Her maman says softly, pulling her into a gentle hug. “This is our chance to give you that chance. Because we love you, honey, blood or not. You are our daughter.” Marinette melts into the hug, trying hard not to cry. But it was hard. She was only twelve, and her parents were sending her to an entirely different country to live with someone she’d never even met. Not to mention, she’d promised Paris that she would protect them. Even if she was still completely clueless on the whole situation, despite her new little guide trying their best to help her. Everything was changing. 

---

“Marinette, you really can’t leave Paris.” Tikki says again. Marinette just looks at them, arms crossed. 

“What am I supposed to do, Tikki? You said that I can’t tell my parents about Ladybug, you said there’s no one who could be Ladybug instead, you say I can’t leave Paris- newsflash, I’m not old enough to make that decision. My parents have made it for me. And I tried to argue with them about it, but it didn’t really do any good, did it?” She huffs, narrowing her eyes at the kwami. Because apparently, that’s what her little guide was. They’d been willing to give a little more information about everything happening when they realized Marinette was leaving. Maybe it was their attempt at keeping Marinette in Paris? Who’s to say. It just made Marinette wonder what else they were keeping from her. 

“If you really have to leave, then there’s someone you have to talk to first.” Tikki says, their antenna drooping. 

“Lovely. More secrets. How long would it have taken you to tell me any of this if my parents hadn’t decided to send me away?” Marinette asks, crossing her arms. Tikki winces. 

“It wasn’t important for you to know now.” They say. 

“If I talk to this mysterious person, can I just give the earrings back? They’re the one who gave them to me, right?” She asks. Tikki shakes their head. 

“You can’t just give up the earrings. You were chosen to be Ladybug, Marinette. And you made a promise to Paris.” They say. Marinette scowls. 

“You like guilt trips, don’t you?” Marinette asks, sighing. “Fine. Let’s just, let’s go get this over with. My plane leaves today and I still have to say goodbye to my friends and Adrien.” 

---

Marinette stares out the window as the plane begins its descent into Gotham. The city was dark. Too dark. She could almost feel the negative energy of the place that was to be her new home until Hawkmoth was defeated. Which was, despite her now living an ocean away, still her responsibility. Apparently. The glasses in her purse felt like they weighed a ton. And she was exhausted. She’d spent most of the plane ride trying to figure out how to create an app to alert Parisians when an akuma is spotted. Not only would it help her city, but it would also help decrease the time between the akuma showing up and her teleporting into Paris. Because for some reason, the man who was in charge of the kwamis was determined that she keep the earrings. Maybe there was a lack of untrained, underprepared teenagers in Paris. Marinette would have thought there was a plethora. 

“Welcome to Gotham, ladies and gentlemen. Local time is 4:17pm. The temperature is a nice 64 degrees fahrenheit, or 17 degrees celsius. Joker is currently in Arkham, but we’ve just received word that Scarecrow is unaccounted for. Use caution when leaving the airport, and thank you for flying Wayne Air.” The flight attendant announces. Marinette blinks. What kind of city made announcements about villains when planes were landing? Is that what Paris was going to turn into? And how did her nonna even meet this ‘friend’ anyway? What was her nonna doing in Gotham, of all places? Sighing, Marinette grabs her carryon bag from the overhead compartment before leaving the plane. Walking through the terminal, she keeps cautiously glancing over her shoulder as she grabs her bags and heads out to the main part of the airport. She really did not want to deal with a villain here. Not at all. Villain attacks here would be fatal. As much as she despised the situation in Paris, at least the damage never stuck. Walking towards the front of the airport, Marinette scans the crowd. Her parents had told her that her nonna’s friend would have a sign with her name on it. Spotting the sign, Marinette straightens up and walks towards the man holding the sign. 

“Hello, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I am Alfred Pennyworth.” He says, nodding towards her. Marinette smiles at him, pushing down her anxiety. She could make the best of living in Gotham, even if it was with strangers. 

“Bonjour Mr. Pennyworth. It’s nice to meet you.” She says, grinning. His lips twitch slightly. 

“And you, Miss. But please, call me Alfred. Heaven knows the others do.” He says, taking one of her bags. Marinette raises an eyebrow. 

“Others?” She asks. Alfred nods. 

“Master Wayne’s children. Your parents did tell you that you would be living in Wayne Manor, correct?” He asks, raising an eyebrow of his own. Marinette shakes her head, following the man towards his car. Wayne Manor. This should be interesting.

Next

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[pinkcoffeecup]

coffee breaks, spencer reid

summary: Spencer finds himself smitten by the girl in the coffee shop

warnings: Sexual implications (mainly flirty jokes), otherwise just super sweet.

word count: 1813

Everyone knew how much Spencer loved coffee, in fact, some would argue that it was what kept him alive. Despite this, he’d never been the biggest fan of coffee shops. The thought of sitting alone in a room full of people as he tried to concentrate on the book he was currently reading, or the case he was currently working on, just made him rather anxious. He couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching him, whispering about the way he liked his coffee or making fun of the clothes he was wearing. So, instead, Spencer had resorted to ordering to-go coffees for the past decade.

But for the last couple of weeks, his trips to the local coffee shop had gotten longer, and the team of profilers surrounding him hadn’t failed to notice the missing paper cup in his hand as he made his way back through the doors. “Do you think he’s actually getting coffee? Or is he just bored of us?” JJ joked, nodding towards Spencer's empty desk.

“No, Spencer is definitely getting coffee, probably more than before. Have you missed how fast he speaks?” Prentiss joked, recalling the many times they’d had to ask him to slow down as he tried to explain something to them.

“I think he’s got a girl,” Morgan smirked, “If you ask me, pretty boy found his pretty girl,”

Spencer couldn’t help but feel giddy as he walked through the coffee shop entrance for the fourth time that week. “Spencer!” Y/n smiled as she saw him, “What can I get you this fine afternoon?” She joked.

“You know, the usual,” He smiled, “I’m a very consistent man,”

He watched as she chuckled at his joke, typing his order into the old cash register. “Oh, I’ve noticed,” She giggled, “You’re here, what, twice a day? Just for a simple coffee?”

“Not only the coffee,” He looked through his wallet for a five-dollar bill, “I’m also here for the great staff,”

Once again, he watched her giggle, not missing the way a slight blush made its way to her cheeks. He handed her the bill, only for her to push it back to him, “It’s on the house,” She smiled.

“No, come on, I want to pay,” Spencer insisted, trying to hand her the bill once more, “Please,”

“Spencer, let my boss pay you for this coffee,” She joked, “It’s not like I’m paying for it,”

He couldn’t help but laugh, remembering the time he’d met her complete jerk-boss. He’d talked to her like she was a dog, and it had taken everything inside of Spencer to stay put in his seat. The man was a textbook narcissist, and Spencer wanted nothing more than to whisk Y/n away from the situation. “Fine, then consider it a gift,” He tried.

“Just let me give you one free coffee,” she rolled her eyes playfully. Spencer only sighed, placing the bill back in his wallet. “Fine,” he muttered, watching her laugh again before he sat down at his usual table.

The coffee shop was rather empty today, with only Spencer and two other people in opposite corners of the room. He pulled up the case file from his bag, placing it on the table in front of him before opening it up. Usually, he avoided looking at case details in public places, not wanting to scar the people who accidentally caught a glimpse of the horrific photographs hidden in the dark beige paper folder. But today, Spencer was only reviewing old files of robberies.

“Here you go,” Y/n smiled, placing the cup on his table. “I hope your free coffee tastes good,” she added. Spencer chuckled, “I hope you don’t go bankrupt,”

“Oh, you’ve met my boss, he’s got like five businesses and is absolutely loaded, I don’t think it’d hurt his wallet,” Y/n said, only half-joking. There was no denying that Y/n too hated her boss and the way he’d act like he was the most important man in the room at all times.

“Yeah, he’s a piece of shit,” Spencer agreed, closing the case file again. “It took everything in me not to say something,”

Y/n let out an annoyed groan as she pictured her boss walking through the doors. She took a quick glance, only making sure that it had only been her imagination before she slid into the chair in front of Spencer. “You should’ve seen what he did the other day,” She giggled, leaning in close as if her boss was lurking around the corner.

Spencer leaned across the table, meeting her halfway. “What’d he do?” he whispered.

“There’s this new girl here,” Y/n began, “She’s only nineteen, and the other day she got a call while she was at work. She just found out her dad had been in a car accident, he was fine, but hospitalised. So she, obviously, asked our boss if she could leave early, to which he started yelling at her for not putting work first,”

“Are you kidding me?” Spencer watched as Y/n shook her head, “Nope, he said something like: What’s more important? Family or work?”

Y/n continued rambling about her god awful boss, but Spencer couldn’t focus on her stories. He just couldn’t help but study her face, the small freckles on her cheeks, and the way she’d look at him through her eyelashes as she spoke. The way she giggled between her sentences, and the way she tucked her hair behind her ears. He was completely mesmerised by her.

“Are you not going to drink your coffee?” She asked, her voice still soft as she leaned a little closer. “What?” Spencer questioned, only now being snapped out of his daze.

“Your coffee,” She repeated, giggling this time, “It’s getting cold,”

Spencer glanced at the white cup next to him, “Right,” He said, “the coffee,”

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms across her chest. “Here I am, making you a free coffee, and now you don’t even want to drink it,” She jokingly threw her head back in annoyance, “Men these days have no decency,”

“Actually, you are statistically correct about that. Some argue that it is statistically proven that men do not put in the effort to appear kind or welcoming since it’s not expected of them,” Spencer rambled, not being able to pass up the opportunity to flaunt his knowledge, “But I like to think that I don’t come across as arrogant as most of them,”

Y/n couldn’t help but drop her annoyed act, smiling at the man in front of her. “You know,” She began, “There is something weird about you, I can’t really put my finger on it, but I really like it,”

It was Spencer's turn to blush, smiling as he looked down at the coffee in front of him. “You’re not too bad yourself Y/n,” he smiled, not quite sure how to respond.

“Do you want to know why I gave you a free coffee?” She asked, suppressing a giddy smile as she awaited Spencer's response. “I’d love to Y/n,” He said, hoping that she’d say what he was thinking.

“Well, you’re always nice to me, and you seem genuine about it too, not like you’re trying to get into my pants or something,” She began, watching an adoring smile spread across Spencer’s cheeks. “I guess I kind of look forward to seeing you here every day,”

For a second or two, Spencer remained silent. If he was completely honest, he didn’t know quite how to respond to her words. He very clearly looked forward to seeing her every day, so much that he vacated to the coffee shop at every chance he was given. He’d completely ignored the perfectly good coffee machine at the BAU, only to see her. “I do try,” Spencer smiled, “Glad to see my efforts are being appreciated,”

“I must say, I quite enjoy coming here too. Not only for the coffee,” He smiled, watching her cheeks blush once again. “You are honestly the highlight of my day,”

The two sat in silence for a moment, soaking up each other's words for as long as possible. But Spencer’s buzzing phone soon ruined the moment. “Sorry,” He muttered reading the text on the display. It was Hotch, letting him know that he needs to be back at work. “Duty calls,” He chuckled.

“Good luck Dr Reid,” Y/n smiled, watching as he chugged the coffee and grab his things.

He stood from his seat, “I, uh, thank you for the coffee,” He said, suddenly nervous. But Y/n only smiled, watching as he took a few steps towards the door.

His hand was almost on the handle before he turned back, meeting Y/n back at the table. “Sorry, I was just hoping that I could repay you for that coffee,” He said.

“What do you have in mind?” Y/n asked, hoping that he’d understand what she was getting at.

“Well, I was thinking dinner, but if you have anything different in mind, I would gladly do that instead,” Spencer grinned, noticing how she tensed her back ever so slightly at his words. “Let me know when you’re free,”

Spencer turned back towards the door, proudly walking away. “Wait, I don’t have your number,” Y/n remembered. “It’s under the cup,” He laughed, walking out the door.

...

Spencers proud steps continued as he pushed open the BAU doors, smiling as he thought back to his conversation with Y/n. “What’s got you all giddy?” JJ asked as Spencer plopped down in his chair. “What? Nothing?” Spencer tried, somehow forgetting he was in a room full of profilers. “Is she hot?” Emily asked, not bothering to filter her thoughts.

“Emily!” JJ scolded, ignoring Morgans laughter from behind her. “Is she though?” Morgan continued, causing Spencer to let out an annoyed groan.

Morgan sat down on the side of Spencer’s desk, showing that he wasn’t going anywhere without Spencer sharing his secrets. “This has to be against some kind of workplace regulation,” Spencer muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, and you running off to hop your girlfriend's bones during your breaks isn’t?” Morgan joked, loving the way Spencer's face turned bright red.

“Morgan, that is not what I’m doing,” Spencer tried, but the team only laughed, “And if it was, I wouldn’t tell you,” he added.

Spencer had never been happier to see Hotch’s serious expression than when he stepped out of his office, distracting the team from Spencer’s love life. “We’ve got a case,” He said, causing Spencer to let out a relieved breath.

“Saved by the bell,” Prentiss joked, as they dispersed from Spencer's desk. Right as he was about to get up from his seat, his phone buzzed once again.

Dr Reid, I’m free Friday night.

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[f1united]

Ensemble - Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Your Arthur Leclercs best friend. So why, after a random night in London, are you falling for his brother?

Chapter One: The Start

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and sex.

Word Count: 5.8k

Note: This chapter begins in London and is marked where it switches to Mykonos. There are then some flashbacks mixed in so just watch out for those. Let me know your thoughts, enjoy!

*****

Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Not long after Pierre had joined your table, Charles emerged from the toilets. Pierre had waved his hands to inform him of his updated location as he sat in the empty seat, unknowingly signing himself up for a night full of girly gossip and drama. The evening was spent reminiscing on childhood memories and sharing stories. It wasn't until Nat checked her phone that you realised how late it was getting.

"We better get going," She announced as she checked her phone. "The last train is in half an hour." You lived just outside of London which meant that most nights out were cut short by trains unless you had booked a hotel. You hummed in agreement as you finished your drink watching as Pierre began to whisper in Lucy's ear. They'd been flirting all night so her next sentence didn't come as much of a surprise.

"I'm going to chill with Pierre for a bit, I'll find my own way home tomorrow" The rest of the girls saw it coming too.

"Are you sure?" Katie asked. "I don't want you ending up in London on your own with no way home." She had a point. London could be quite daunting when it was late and dark, especially if you weren't a local.

"Well why don't you stay too?" Charles nodded his head towards you as he spoke. "That way you could leave together." Not one part of you questioned Charles' intentions as he spoke. He remained the responsible 'Arthur's older brother' that was being sensible and mature, making sure that everyone got home safely.

"If that's alright with you?" Your question was answered with a nod of his head. You all began to grab your things and headed outside, saying your goodbyes, telling them to text you when they were home safe as they encouraged you to do the same. By the time they'd headed for the station, Pierre and Lucy were already nowhere to be seen.

"I'm not sure about you but I'm in no rush to go back to the apartment just yet!" You spoke to Charles as you looked at the night sky above you.

"Where do you want to go in the meantime?"

“Have you ever explored London before?" You answered his question with one of your own. He shook his head. "So you haven't seen all beautiful sites it has to offer." The sarcasm was evident in your voice as you pointed down the alley way you were walking past full of black bins and plastic bags full of rubbish.

"I've only ever been here to celebrate races and I can't say I've seen much other than the inside of some bars and restaurants.”

"Well you're in for a long night Leclerc." Two hours ago Charles wanted nothing more than for him and Pierre to go back to the apartment. The lack of alcohol he'd consumed throughout the night was only adding to the tiredness he'd accumulated over the race weekend. However as you dragged him through the streets of London he realised there was no place he'd rather be.

You'd ridden Boris bikes alongside the River Thames, shown him your favourite restaurant in Covent Garden and taken him through Piccadilly Circus all the way to Oxford Street where closed shops lined the dark streets, pointing out your favourite ones as you cycled past. He never did things like this. As a F1 driver it was difficult for him to go almost anywhere without going unnoticed but tonight not one person had recognised him because for the night he was just a normal person with another normal person having a good time. 

After abandoning the Boris bikes at the nearest drop off point you both headed towards the apartment. It belonged to Charles' mother and was often used by you and Arthur whenever he'd come to visit and couldn't stay with you.

"You seem happier than when I last saw you." His comment made you smile. It was all he could think about as you wondered through the dark streets. The last time you'd seen him you'd just broken up with your ex. Your relationship had been on and off for years but you'd finally called it quits for good. It didn't take a genius to see the relationship was making you unhappy, the anxiety, tears and sleepless nights were picked up on by everyone albeit your efforts to hide it. Arthur was the only person who truly knew what was going on and it hurt him to see his best friend in so much pain when she thought she was in love.

"Thank you, I'm in a much better place now. I've had time to focus on myself." You'd completely lost yourself throughout the time you were together, focusing so much on what he'd wanted and expected rather than what made you happy. The situation had increased your maturity and for that reason you were grateful your first heartbreak had come at such a young age. You'd correctly assumed that Arthur had made Charles aware of your sensitiveness to the situation to some extent as he made no further comments. 

He had approached Arthur with concern after your last meeting. Despite a fun grand prix weekend you'd been blinking back tears and spent most of the time with a blank expression on your face. He hated it. He could see you trying to compose yourself, when he came to thank you for coming you'd done your best to smile, your voice was laced with excitement, but your eyes were empty, drained of emotion. He was grateful to see it had made its way back.

"Did you know I've never been to Harrods?" His random fact was a relief as he quickly changed the subject, allowing your mind to be brought back to the present rather than the dark times from the past.

"Even I've been to Harrods Charles. We should go tomorrow, you'd have a field day in the clothes section." As a part time student most of your spare money went into savings, a fund you'd created for your planned travels when you were done with your studies. It wasn't very often that you brought yourself nice things so despite your multiple trips to Harrods, you'd never actually purchased anything. You could see him deliberating your suggestion in his head. 

"You can wear sunglasses and a hat with your mask, just don't wear a bright red Ferrari top and I'm sure we'll be able to keep ourselves to ourselves."

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" His question brought you back to reality slightly.

"I'll call in sick?" you offered. It suddenly occurred to you that this was the longest time you and Charles had ever been alone together and the idea of leaving wasn't something that you wanted to think about just yet. 

Charles opened the apartment door with caution, neither of you wanted to interrupt your friend’s spontaneous night, nor hear any of the antics they were getting up to. You frowned at each other as you stepped into the entrance corridor. There were no faint voices, no mumbling or laughs, just the hum of the city that echoed through the slightly open window.

“Maybe they didn’t come back here,” your judgement became increasingly more likely as you followed Charles towards the kitchen and stood around the island.

“I’ll send him a text.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped away before placing it on the marble countertop. It lit up with Pierre's reply not long after he'd set it down. “They went to some hotel, apparently he’s dropping her home in a second.”

“He’s not the type to bring girls back to his home turf then,” you took the bag off your shoulder and placed in on the counter, grabbing a hair tie from inside and gathering your locks into a low ponytail. “Smart move.” Charles shrugged his shoulders at your observation.

He’d never really thought about it before, but he was the same. The few casual hook ups that he’d had over the years had never been in places he spent a lot of time like his house in Monaco, or his favourite holiday home in Mykonos, and never this apartment. Sure, he’d slept with people in those cities, but never in his space. You were right though; it was easier to forget about the crime if you never returned to the scene.

"Do you have anything I can change into?" 

“There’s a top on the end of my bed.” You thanked him as you made your way towards his room. “I’ll grab some of my things so I can crash on the sofa once you’ve changed.” You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him as you stood in the doorway.

“I’m not kicking an f1 driver out of their own bed Charles, especially not post race weekend.” You crossed your arms as you lent against the door frame. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He argued.

“It’s one night Charles, I really don’t mind.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He repeated.

“Well then it looks like we’re sharing the bed.” Your words not only surprised you, but also Charles. Neither of you were sure where this increased confidence had come from, but you didn’t want it to become awkward, so you tried to justify your statement. “Me and Arthur used to share a bed all the time!”

The look on his face as your eyes met with his across the room was one you’d so desperately been seeking without realising it. His head cocked, eyebrows raised and small smirk tugging its way onto his lips provided reassurance, giving you the confidence to confirm that this relationship was very different to your one with Arthur. You already knew it, you had felt it every time you’d looked at him since you were about 16, but this was the first time you could say with certainty that it was reciprocated.

Charles was dying to climb into bed with you. To wrap his arms around you and stay like it all night. He didn’t care about the fact that your hair would be in his face or that his arm would most likely be dead within the first half an hour. He just wanted you there with him, so he could learn things about you that he didn’t already know and fall asleep with the scent of your faded perfume beneath his nose. He suggested that he’d sleep on the sofa because he knew that wasn’t what you were implying. 

“I’ll stay on my side,” you offered. “Promise.”

That’s what he was afraid of. Charles was a respectful man, he wouldn’t cross boundaries without permission, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without your touch. The thought of your body lying so tantalisingly close to his while dressed in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts was driving him crazy.

“I’m a very good sleeper, you won’t even know I’m there.”

You couldn’t stop listing reasons for Charles to join you. He wished you would stop; his head was already full of so many.

“Well go and get comfy and I’ll join you in a minute,” In that moment he made the decision to give in knowing that if this was the only chance he got to lay in bed with you he'd take the opportunity, whether your bodies were intertwined or not. “Do you need a drink or anything?”

“A water would be great!” You smiled as you turned around and headed to the bedroom. Charles spent the next few minutes alone in the kitchen trying to convince himself that this was a bad idea. That it was wrong. You were his brother’s best friend and he shouldn't be this nervous or excited to lay next to you, but no matter how hard he tried to dislike the situation he couldn’t because it just felt right.

By the time he joined you in bed you’d already made yourself incredibly comfortable. He chuckled at the site of you tangled in the duvet before climbing in next to you. You laid facing each other and remained that way as you chatted about memories from the past. Childhood holidays and his earliest racing days to you latest life plans and hopes for the future. That's how you drifted to sleep, listening to his voice was more comforting than you'd like to admit. When you awoke in the morning you were unsure what terrified you more, the feeling of one of you completely reducing the few centimetres of space left between you or never knowing what Charles’ touch felt like.

*****

Maybe that’s why you were so unimpressed when Charles and Pierre joined the several of you seated around the long table on the patio with two unknown girls. The number of cocktails you’d consumed weren’t providing you with a great amount of rationality but then again it was difficult to justify being annoyed when you had no reason to be in the soberest of situations. The only person to blame was yourself, you’d had the chance to experience a night with Charles and a combination of your stubbornness, maturity and (let’s face it) fear of what could happen had meant that you’d missed out.

It was only as she threw her head back at one of his comments that it hit you, you were jealous. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in years. Ever since your last relationship you had lacked almost every kind of emotion. You’d dated people since but that connection was never really there which is why you were full of confusion at the situation presenting itself to you. The feelings felt foreign to your body and you weren’t sure how to deal with them, so you did the one think that you were too young to do back then. Get drunk and try to forget about them for a night.

"Are you listening? Drink up, we're leaving in a second!" Arthurs voice provided a distraction from your thoughts whilst encouraging them. You tilted your head back as you finished the remainder of your champagne, your arm was already reaching out for the nearest bottle to see if you could sneak in a quick refill. You didn’t even like champagne but after having run out of cocktails about an hour ago you didn’t really have much choice. In any other situation you would’ve declined and waited until you were at the club but you weren’t really in the mood to sober up right now. You got up to follow everyone to the taxis, deciding that the bottle had too much in to be left at the table to waste, but not enough in that you couldn't finish it before you reached you destination. Putting the bottle to your lips this time, you took another gulp.

He noticed. He noticed the vast amount of alcohol you had consumed thus far. The unbothered façade you'd displayed during dinner was picked up by him the second he’d glanced in your direction. Your eyes often met his across rooms, at events, in the paddock, even at family dinners and it was always followed by a shared smile, but tonight you hadn't even looked at him and he couldn't stand it. Although he couldn’t be certain, he had a good idea what the cause was. Guilt was slowly consuming his thoughts. He shouldn’t have felt guilty, there was no real reason to, yet he did.

He knew if he had come alone you would've had a couple of drinks with dinner, just enough to prepare yourself for the club afterwards, allowing the sweaty people and sticky floor to become slightly bearable. He also knew that you weren't a huge drinker and that the lack of food you had consumed at dinner would only worsen the matter which was evident as he watched you fall into a taxi with Arthur and Carla as he climbed into a separate one with Pierre and, what they appeared to be to everyone else, their ‘dates’.

The club was busy, everyone excited to be back on the dance floor after its absence over the past year or two. Although it would've been nice to spend some more time with him, you were thankful that the crowds had engulfed you so you'd lose sight of Charles and her. You'd found your way to the middle of the dance floor and you remained there for hours losing track of time and somehow your friends too.

Unbeknown to you, Charles had lost his 'date' at the first chance he had. He'd met her on a boat during the day with Pierre and when his best friend had invited her best friend for dinner he felt bad for not doing the same. He was sitting at the bar with Pierre who'd picked up on the amount of attention he was paying you as you danced along with random strangers. The Frenchman questioned what he was doing when he noticed Charles tighten his jaw. Charles nodded his head in your direction and the pair watched as a man approached you.

The guy in front of you was only offering to buy you a drink but you knew you were way over your limit. You'd politely declined, naively assuming that he'd disappear back into the sea of faces but that wasn't the case. Your refusal  clearly not accepted as he insisted. grabbing onto your arm in an attempt to pull you in the direction of the bar. Yanking your arm out of his grip you instantly managed to sober up as you came to the realisation you were going to have to fight this battle alone.

Charles knew you were a big girl, that you could handle yourself in almost any situation thrown your way, but as the guy reached out to touch you he could've sworn he moved quicker than his Ferrari. His presence shocked you as you flinched slightly at the unfamiliar grip on your waist.

"It's just me ma belle." Charles whispered calmly into your ear, placing a feather light kiss onto your cheek. Relief instantly washed over your body. You wished you could focus on the conversation that Charles was now having with the strange man in front of you but you couldn't. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of your skin heating beneath Charles' fingertips and the tingling sensation that lingered where he'd planted the kiss. He'd never touched you before, the brief hugs being the most contact you'd ever shared, and now he was standing in a club with his hand around your waist as he fended off a random guy who'd taken an interest in you. "I think we should head home." When Charles spoke it felt as though each word was coated in sex as it left his lips. He hadn't meant it in a sexy way, you knew that. He wanted to take you home so you were safe. However his intense grip on your waist and his stubble lightly grazing your cheek when he leaned in to speak to you was putting thoughts into your mind that you knew shouldn't be there.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking for the first time that night. Your eyes always showed a lot of emotion. Your body language was often hard to read but you always made eye contact when you spoke. He frequently used it to determine what mood you were in but this time he was met with one he'd never seen before. Despite them having a drunken glaze, your dilated pupils held a look of lust. He could've sworn you were mentally undressing him. You weren't. Instead you were thinking of how much you wanted him to undress you.

"I think that's a good idea." He could hear the smirk in your voice over the sound of the music as you let your lips gently brush his ear lobe while you spoke. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath in an attempt to pull himself together. You were disappointed when his hand left your side but satisfied when it quickly intertwined itself with yours. His skin was softer than you were expecting, the rough patches slowly disappearing over the summer break. Your hands remained that way as you walked through the streets of Mykonos. Neither of you spoke, you just remained in a comfortable silence. As the villa came into view Charles was basically marching down the street, his strides increasing as your little legs tried to keep up. He dropped your hand when he reached the door, searching his pockets for the key to unlock it.

The villa was colder than you were expecting, a shiver ran down your spine as the air con hit you. You headed towards the kitchen and grabbed your sweater off one of the bar stools, sliding it on over your outfit.

“So you’d let Carla drive your car huh?” his face instantly broke out in a smile as you relieved some of the tension between you both. “You know that’s not true.” Charles followed you to the kitchen and watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the counter. He poured a glass of water and took a sip before handing it to you which you gratefully accepted.

“You’d let your date drive it instead?” He rolled his eyes as he chuckled at your sarcasm, hoping that you’d forgotten about the girl he’d sat next to during dinner as quickly as he had. “How many girls get a turn before me?” Although he didn't let it show, your question had offended him slightly. Despite his popularity with women he was never one to disrespect them, especially not you. He took a step closer to you, standing directly in front of your legs that were pressed firmly together.

“You’re the only one I want to see in that seat mon Cherie,” That was one nickname that he’d never called you, yet it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly. He leaned against your legs and you slowly parted them so he could stand in between, closing the distance between you both. “I’d let you drive it again in a heartbeat.” Your eyes were fluttering between his eyes and lips, your stare only breaking when he leaned in to speak in your ear just like he’d done in the club. He placed a kiss on your cheekbone and slowly worked his way up to your ear.

“You looked very sexy behind the wheel of my car.” You locked your hands with his while he continued to speak, closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to try and calm your heart rate down. You wanted to say something back, engage more in the conversation, but for the first time in a long time you were at a loss for words. You loved driving, you'd often join the boys go karting growing up and learned to drive as soon as you could, so when Charles asked if you wanted to drive his Ferrari back to your home after your Harrods shopping trip you were more than excited. It was a nice change from the train ride you were expecting.

He'd watched your eyes light up when you realised he was being serious. It was the closest you'd ever been to driving something even remotely similar to an f1 car despite it being different in so many ways. Your smile was infectious as you put your foot down on the motorway, leaving London behind. You'd never even driven an automatic car so this was a completely new experience. He'd taught you how to use the paddles to manually change gears if you wanted to and how to shift through its different modes as you drove around. The only disappointing part of the journey was reaching your destination, your trip home considerably quicker than you would've wanted. After spending the whole time focused on going fast and not crashing, you'd selfishly not noticed how Charles was feeling throughout the drive.

He'd been trying to keep his eyes trained on the road in front of him but couldn't help steal a glance in your direction every now and then. He was always surrounded by fast cars, something he realised after seeing you sat in his driving seat he'd begun to take for granted. He felt overwhelmed with pride, he was the one who was making you this happy. He felt privileged seeing you this free as your hair flew around in the wind while you rested a hand out the side of the car, trying to resist the force of the air pushing it back. It was his turn to be selfish as he realised that he always wanted to keep that moment for himself. He didn't want anyone else to make you feel like this, give you this experience. He wanted to be the one to make you smile.

“Don’t go quiet now mon Cherie.” That nickname. Again. “I think we still need to discuss what happened in the shower.” You instantly snapped back into reality at the mention of the shower. His hand fell from yours and toyed with the bracelet on your wrist. The one that you nervously played with in situations like these. The one that he’d gifted you last year. The one with his name etched into it.

The morning that you'd woke up in Charles' bed you were alone. An empty bed was something you'd become accustomed to over the past couple of years but in this instance it made you awaken quicker. The note left on his pillow stopped you from worrying, he was out on a run.

You respected his commitment to his career and took the opportunity to go for a shower. The warm water felt refreshing against your skin, goose bumps slowly appearing across your skin at the sudden change in temperature. Rubbing Charles shower gel into your skin you closed eyes and lent your head against the tiled shower wall. It wasn't clear at what point you'd become so aroused, but  the steam from the shower and the smell of Charles covering you definitely had something to do with it. You allowed your hands to roam your body, his name unexpectedly falling from your mouth as you brushed past your breasts. The careless use of his name had caused your eyes to widen and your hand to clamp over your mouth. It had left you lips so naturally but felt inappropriate to say aloud.

It wasn't until a few days later that you realised he'd heard. He almost hadn’t. If he’d unlocked the apartment a mere three seconds later your words wouldn’t have reached his ears. His run had been sweaty and he was still out of breath but his panting soon stopped. His eyes widened as he heard his name leave your lips and he froze. He didn’t want to announce his presence, he knew he wasn’t supposed to hear it and didn’t want you to feel embarrassed that he had. He didn’t know what to do. He felt as though he was invading your privacy but knew that if he shut the door you’d hear it close and know he was there. So instead he stuck his foot between the door and the doorframe to keep it slightly open as he waited for the sound of the shower to finish running. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but he failed. All he could think about was you, in his shower, without him and how badly he wanted to join you, just so he could make his name fall from your mouth the way it just did over and over again.

You thought you'd gotten away with it. He'd entered the apartment just as you were stepping out the bathroom and he'd acted as cool as ever. The weekend was slowly becoming a distant memory that you were trying hard not to dwell on, hating that you were missing his presence so much already. It wasn't until you were at work the following week that it became apparent your secret crush was no longer a secret. You were in the office early, earlier than everyone else. That wasn’t unusual, you liked to be in early as it often meant you could leave earlier too. What was unusual was the box placed neatly on your desk.

Although the small parcel was addressed to you, you opened it with hesitation. A small gasp left your lips as your unwrapping revealed a red box, the golden engraving of the word ‘Cartier’ on top. Confused, you gently opened to box revealing a bracelet.

You placed it on your desk as you searched for a note. Despite it being awfully obvious who it was from, you wanted some kind of confirmation or, better yet, a reason as to why someone had put this into your possession. You'd spotted it in Harrods with Charles. You hadn't mentioned it, just spent a few minutes mindlessly staring at its beauty. There was no point even considering buying it for yourself, the price tag was close to your yearly salary. Eventually you found the note. 

'I've heard you like to moan it'

You picked up the bracelet once more, analysing it as you did so. It was so discreet, discreet enough that if the note wasn’t a big enough hint you might never have realised. His name. Etched into the inside of the band in the same font as the word ‘Cartier'. Any other name and he wouldn’t have been able to get away with it. No one had picked up on its personalisation in the past year. It had remained your little secret.

You gulped loudly, unsure of what to say next. The dull lighting hid your cheeks as they flushed red with embarrassment, just like they'd done when you'd read his note. Luckily it was situations like these you considered your stubbornness a strength. "All I could thing about was how much I wanted you to touch me Charles." With your lips dangerously close to Charles' ear you'd somehow managed to complete your sentence with confidence. The conviction in your voice had satisfied Charles although it was obvious that he hadn't expected it as he pulled his head back slightly to look you in the eyes. It was the first time you'd seen them so dark out of his crash helmet. They didn't have the same teasing smile paired with them as they did only a few moments ago. For a brief moment your heart dropped. What if he was just teasing you and you'd taken it too far? 

"Say something." Your voice was barely audible despite the eerie silence that had settled in the kitchen as Charles picked up on your nervousness. His expression softened but he remained silent, placing his forehead against yours and gently brushing your noses. You both very quickly realised there was no longer the need for words. The last thing either of you wanted to do right now was have a conversation about what was going on because quite honestly neither of you were sure. All you knew was that as soon as the space between your lips closed, there was no going back. You were craving each other's touch and it was as though the kiss you were yet to share would be the seal of approval you both needed to explore each other in a way you hadn't before.

You'd had enough of the teasing, enough of the wondering and what ifs, enough of wasting time without knowing how his lips felt against yours. You moved your head up slightly brushing your lips with his before releasing one of your hands from his grasp and placing it on the back of his head, pulling it down slightly. As soon as your lips pressed against his you became overwhelmed with emotions. You relaxed into it, it felt so right. His hands began to explore your body, one placed on your thigh and the other tracing lines up and down your back, sitting on the counter top had worked in your favour as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It wasn't long before his tongue found yours as you let your hands snake beneath his shirt feeling his back and arms tense beneath you as he lifted you up from the side and placed you on the dining table which was at a slighter lower level. 

His mouth left yours and you let out a small groan of frustration, he smiled at the sound as you realised he was only doing it to strip you of the sweater you'd not long ago put on, allowing him to rid you of it, not caring how cold it was anymore. In between the kisses he was placing down your neck you pulled his top over his head. Your eyes were trained to his shoulders as you admired him, only shutting when he re-joined your lips. 

The sound of a key turning the lock at the front door caught Charles' attention. There was a high chance he'd consumed less alcohol than you tonight which is why he giggled slightly when you chose to ignore the sound and bring him back in for another kiss. 

“WE’RE HOME” Arthur voice echoed round the villa. The sound of his brothers voice was enough for you to release him from your grip.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh, it’s 3am people will be sleeping.” Carla tried to whisper but the tiled walls carried the sound throughout the villa. You didn’t know if anyone else was home, you hadn’t checked and to be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. The only thing on your mind was Charles.

“Y/N and I are in the kitchen,” Charles called back. His eyes never left yours as he grabbed his shirt you'd thrown across the kitchen and redressed himself, not until Arthur stumbled through the door way knocking into chairs and making them squeal as the legs glided across the floor. You both watched as he regained balance and muttered a drunken apology before sitting himself on the floor.

"Good night Arthur?" you laughed slightly at the sight of him on the floor, he'd never been the most elegant drunk but at least he was entertaining.

"Great night." He confirmed as he laid himself down, a laugh leaving Carla's lips as she stared at the state of him. If someone had spoken to you a couple of hours ago you would've probably had a different opinion but as it turned out, you were starting to agree with him.

TAGLIST

@imthebadguyyy @abysshaven @phatyak​

[infinitefandomimagines]

Scarred - Zuko x Reader

WARNINGS: ARGUING, BURN SCARS, ANGST

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REQUEST: zuko x reader where the reader is the last one to forgive zuko at the western air temple bc he accidentally hurt her in the crystal catacombs and than zuko goes to her tent, begging for forgiveness and she shows him the scar he gave her and it’s super fluffy:33

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"Y/N. . . what do you say?" All eyes landed on you, waiting for your response to Aang's question. However, there was only one pair of eyes in particular you glared back at; and if looks could kill, the recently renounced Fire Nation prince in front of you would've surely met his demise right then. But Zuko knew how to hold himself in front of those who wanted to intimidate him. If there was anything his father taught him, it was that much.

Despite your fiery stare and previous threats from the first time he pleaded for forgiveness that you'd "knock him on his ass" if he ever came near you again, he kept his composure. There was no doubt in his mind you'd stay true to that warning, which is why he made sure to keep enough distance between the two of you.

There was a hopeful gleam in his eyes, so far Aang, Sokka, Katara, and Toph had agreed to let him join the team, albeit some more hesitantly than others. If everyone else found it in their hearts to forgive and forget, surely you could as well. Wrong.

"No."

You saw the last bit of hope fizzle from his eyes as defeat weighed down on him, causing his shoulders to sink and his head to drop. "I know you don't trust me, I don't blame you. I've done horrible things, hurt you and your friends-"

"You can't even begin to imagine the amount of pain you've caused me!" Your words held a venomous sting, yet your tone was strained, calm almost.

"Y/N," Katara stepped up behind you, her voice was soft. You could barely feel the hand she'd placed on your left shoulder, thick and itchy bandages blocking her attempt at comfort. "I don't like it either, but Aang needs to learn fire bending."

"I really believe he's changed, give him a chance to-"

You cut Aang off, finally breaking your gaze from Zuko to face the young monk. "He's already had too many chances!"

No one could admit that you were wrong, not even Zuko. Because every time he'd faught against your little group of rag-tag heroes, you'd given him a chance. Even while the rest of team avatar faught the exiled prince, you never threw a single blow that wasn't defensive or to save your friends. Instead, you'd offer him a chance to join the right side. Of course, he never accepted, but you saw the benefits of your kindness when he'd began to show a sense of mercy against you. There was something in your head telling you he was more than just a villain.

But that mindset changed when you and the gang faught against him and his sister in the crystal catacombs. When Aang almost died. When he chose the Fire Nation's side. When he'd made sure to leave you a permanent reminder of that day.

After a few moments of tense silence, you let out an impatience scoff. "Leave, Zuko. I gave you my answer, the least you can do is respect it."

Reluctantly, he nodded, mumbling out an apology before turning on his heels. He only got in a few steps before Aang interjected.

"Zuko, stop."

He did, glancing over his shoulder, ready to hear what Aang had to say.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but Zuko is staying. I need need to learn fire bending and he's my only option. I really believe he's changed for the better."

"You don't have to forgive him, but Aang's right, we need him," Sokka added in, to which Toph agreed.

You took in their words, it was obvious they weren't up for debate. You hated that they were right, you all did need Zuko, no matter your current opinion on him.

"Fine," you sighed, looking at Zuko, who was now standing awkwardly with his hands behind his back. "But stay away from me."

Over the next few days, Zuko had somehow managed to gain the complete and utter trust of everyone, even Katara. Everyone except you. Then again, you hadn't had your "life changing field trip with Zuko" that made everyone seemingly forget about everything he'd ever done to them. Field trip or not, earning your trust wasn't going to be that easy. You didn't care how many times he made everybody tea and told cringey jokes.

"Where did you learn to make so many different types of tea?" Aang inquired, causing everyone to look at Zuko, wanting to hear his answer.

Zuko returned to his seat around the fire between Toph and Aang, finally finished handing out small cups of tea. "My uncle, it's his favorite thing to make, he even owned a tea shop at one point."

"You mean the one you betrayed," you deadpanned coldly. You flicked your eyes up from the warm cup of tea in your hands to Zuko, wanting to see his reaction.

His smile faultered, and katara shot a disapproving look at you. For a second you felt guilty, maybe that was too far. He looked genuinely hurt by your comment, but soon another emotion took over his features. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw and sat up straighter.

"Yeah. That one." His tone was one of poorly restrained bitterness, you'd definitely struck a nerve.

You hummed in response, refusing to break eye contact with him, like you were challenging him to say something equally as cold, but he didn't take the bait. Instead, he took a deep breath, just like his uncle taught him.

"I don't get it," He asked, frustrated and fed up with your snarky comments and side eyes. "Everyone else trusts me, why can't you?"

"You really have to ask?"

Katara could feel the tension and awkwardness of the impending argument hanging over everyone. This wasn't the time nor place to be having this conversation.

"I think now would be a good time for another healing session," she interjected, giving you a look that informed you she wasn't exactly asking. With a frustrated huff, you stood up and made your way to your tent, not even waiting for Katara to follow.

You plopped down onto your sleeping bag, sitting with your left side towards the opening.

Katara was there in a few minutes, holding a medium sized bowl of water in her hands. She gently set it down on the ground, taking a seat on your sleeping bag as well, facing your left side.

You tugged your left sleeve down so you could free it. With your shoulder now exposed, she carefully removed the bandages that covered your shoulder and the side of your neck, revealing the red and scarred skin hidden underneath.

"How does it look?" You asked, attempting to ignore the itchy feeling of the fresh air hitting your wound.

"It's healing, slowly" she answered as she conjured the water from the bowl and molded it with her hands. She purified the liquid, causing it it glow. Slowly, she lowered it until the cool water molded over your injured skin. You clenched your teeth and whimpered at the sudden sting the contact made, but then Katara started making circular motions with her hands, beginning the healing process. The stinging pain soon morphed into a comforting cold and relieving sensation.

Katara had done this for you and Aang multiple times since the gang escaped from that wretched crystal catacomb. As much progress as your skin had made in healing, you couldn't seem to wipe the painful memories of how you'd recieved such a wound from your mind. You could remember the events so vividly it was as if they'd happened yesterday.

You were stalling, Zuko and Azula knew that, yet they didn't seem to mind. If anything, Azula enjoyed watching you struggle to give your friends more time. You needed to stall them long enough for Aang to fully enter the avatar state, that's all.

"Come on, Zuko, you know what needs to be done!" Azula coaxed.

"No! You still have a chance Zuko, you can still make this right!" You could see the conflict rising in him as you and Azula tugged at his morals.

There was a moment, a single second where his emotions betrayed him, where you could see how badly he wanted to go with you and the gang. But it was gone just as fast as it came.

"I will kill the avatar and restore my honor, as well as my rightful place beside my father!" He launched into action, sending overpowering blows your way.

He kept you distracted and unable to help your friends long enough for Azula to strike down Aang. Your head snapped towards Katara's screams and you saw him laying there, completely unconscious.

You were distracted, and Zuko impulsively took advantage, sending a blast of orange and red flames towards you.

In all honesty, he expected you to dodge it, you always did without fail. But this time you were too distracted, too concerned with Aang, and he caught you completely off guard. You didn't even realize you were being attacked until the flames painfully scorched your skin.

You let out a horrifying scream as you crumbled to your knees, your shaky hand hovering over your left shoulder as you tried to control your instinct to grab it, knowing it would only hurt worse. You clenched your teeth together, biting back tears as you whipped your head around go see Zuko.

He looked shocked, remorseful even, but that didn't stop anger from edging its way into your glare.

You shuddered at the memory and tried to shake it from your head completely.

"You're all done," Katara said, maneuvering the water back into the bowl. A dull ache returned to your wound, but it felt significantly better than before.

"Thanks, Katara," you mumbled.

"Do you need help rewrapping the bandages?"

You shook your head, preferring to be alone and do the difficult task by yourself. Katara seemed to understand, because she didn't push the issue like she usually would. Instead, she left you with a few words.

"What you said was too far tonight, you should really apologize to Zuko, he is trying you know?"

She didn't wait for a response, not that you planned on giving much of one anyway, but soon you were alone, relishing in the peaceful silence.

But your silence didn't last long, just a few minutes after Katara left there was a whispering voice just outside your tent. It was unmistakable who'd come to visit you, and with great reluctance did you let him in.

"What do you want?" you asked, annoyance filling your voice. You refused to make eye contact with the boy, opting to stare at the mess of tangled bandages in your hands.

Your question was met with silence, that only seemed to worsen your mood. Really? He invades your tent just to ignore your one question? This guy was just unbelievable!

You could feel yourself loosing your temperature once again. "I said, what do you-" Your head snapped up at Zuko, ready to tell him off. But you froze when you saw his gaze, and how it held your figure. His jaw was slack, and his eyes swam as tears pooled at his lash-line. But his eyes never met yours. No, his focus was completely on the uncovered scar that graced your left side.

Your shoulder had taken most of the impact, just shy of being completely colored with a dull red scar. But the wound didn't stop there, covering a decent portion of your shoulder blade. The red marking also stretched up in a jagged stripe, narrowing to a point on the side of your neck, just barely marking your cheek.

You hated how you shuddered under his gaze, and had to look away. Your fingers moving faster as your tried to unravel the tangled bandage. You wanted to cover the burned area as soon as possible.

"I- I did that." It wasn't a question. He spoke purely in matter-of-fact statements, he knew exactly where you'd received your mark from.

"Yeah." You said sharply, picking up the bandage and moving to re-wrap the large wound.

"I . . . I am so sorry-"

"You've said."

Re-wrapping the affected area was proving to be more difficult than you'd thought, especially in your heightened state or frustration. Usually Katara did this part, and you were starting to regret sending her away.

"Please, let me help you," Zuko pleaded, reaching a shaky hand out to grasp at the bandage in your grip. You immediately flinched away from him, the sudden movement sending a sharp pain through your left side.

"Stay away from me!" You bit at him.

Zuko immediately pulled his hand back from you, as if he'd burned you unintentionally for a second time. "I'm sorry," he impulsively spilled out.

"Would you stop saying that? Stop apologizing, nothing is going to make me- ow!" Your own pain cut your sentence short, the sharp pain returning, sending another shock wave up your side at your frustrated movements.

"I'm so- just, please, let me help you and then I'll leave you alone, I promise."

You took a moment to think about the offer, and as much as you didn't want his help, the promise for him to leave is what enticed you to agree. So reluctantly, you handed him the bandages and positioned yourself closer to him, allowing Zuko to access your wound and wrap it with ease.

With slow movements, Zuko began wrapping the burned area. His touch was suprisingly gentle, even more so than Katara's, something you hadn't thought possible. But even with his feather-like touch, your skin still twitched as his fingers and the bandages made contact with the more sensitive areas. Zuko muttered out small apologies each time you flinched, despite your earlier message to stop that. Though the skin had begun the early stages of scarring, it was still sensitive.

"Uh, d-did I ever tell you how I got my scar?" Zuko asked suddenly, not even bothering to look up from his task. You knew what he was doing, he'd been doing things like that since he got here, trying to make small talk with you to cover up the awkward tension. You usually never entertained it, but for some reason tonight you felt intrigued by his question.

"No." You answered shortly, trying your best not to show your growing interest. You'd always been curious about the scar.

"My father gave it to me," he stated, oddly calmly. It was almost mindless the way he told the story as he continued to carefully wrap up your injury. Like the memory had become second nature to tell.

"Oh," you whispered out softly, your mind buzzing with a million different ways to respond to him, yet none of them felt right.

"I spoke out of turn during a meeting, over a general. They wanted to sacrifice an entire division of fire nation soldiers to gain the advantage. But I-," He swallowed thickly. ". . . I thought that was wrong so I spoke up."

You nodded ever so slightly, letting out a soft hum, showing that you were still listening and waiting for him to continue. At this point Zuko had finished wrapping the bandages around your burn, allowing you to turn your body to face him fully.

"My father was furious with my disrepect towards the general. He said that the dispute would need to be resolved with an agni kai, and I accepted. And when the day came I thought I'd be fighting the general I interrupted, but then my father walked out, my agni kai was to be against him."

With each word you felt your heart grow heavier and ache for the boy you swore you hated. You were beginning to question whether you genuinely hated him or if what you truly felt was left over betrayal and anger.

"How old were you?" You finally asked the question that had been bouncing around your head since he began the story.

"Thirteen, not long before I was banished."

You felt yourself boil with anger, but for once it wasn't directed towards the boy in front of you. No, you were furious with the Fire Lord. Who could do that to someone? To a child. Zuko must not have noticed the way your jaw clenched and your fists tightened into balls, because he continued the story as if he hadn't just made your heart drop into your stomach with his answer.

"I didn't want to fight my father, I couldn't. But he took my refusal as another sign of disrespect. I begged for his forgiveness, but he wouldn't hear it. He claimed that I would learn my lesson through suffering. He raised his hand just in front of my face and then he-"

His voice caught in his throat with a crack as he visibly grimaced from the sheer memory of the event. Instinctively, you reached out for his hand, placing yours over top of his much larger one. Now it was his turn to flinch at the sudden contact.

"Zuko, it's okay, you don't have to tell me this, I understand-"

"No! I do! I need you to understand that I never meant to hurt you! I need you to know that the last thing I wanted was for you to feel the same pain I did. After what my father did, I never wanted to inflict that on anyone. I knew that pain and yet I still hurt you . . . the one person who actually believed I could change!"

His hands flew into the air as his frustrated yells of regret were lost to the silent night. He then exasperatedly brought his arms back down and dropped his head into the palms of his hands. His body shook as he took in deep breaths, trying his best not to shed any tears. He was just so frustrated with himself.

"I thought you would dodge it," His muffled whimpers poured out. "You always dodged it."

It was then that you realized how cold you'd been to the boy. You were so caught up in your own hurt and anger, only concerned with making him feel as horrible as you had with your hurtful words. Not once had you considered that he was already kicking himself ten times harder for the pain he'd caused you. He really hadn't meant to hurt you.

And that's when you did something unexpected. In an impulsive attempt to comfort him, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him in to a hug. His breath hitched, obviously shocked by the gesture, his body going stiff.

"I understand now, I forgive you, Zuko."

At those seven words he melted into your embrace, returning it as he wrapped his arms around your figure. His chin now rested on top of your good shoulder, as he was being extra cautious as to not press on your burns.

"And I'm sorry, for what I said about you and your uncle. He'd be proud of you."

His grip on you tighten, mumbling out a 'thank you,' in the process, finally feeling as though he could fully begin healing from all the wrong he'd done.

-

TAGLIST: @theepartygetsmewetter  

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Limp Noodle ~ S.H.

A/n: I have never once been good at making choices so I’ll be doing both OOF! This request is dirt old but whatever. I’m actually writing requests now look at me go!

Request: “...prompt 20 or 21 Steve Harrington x clumsy male reader” by anon

#20 (here): “I can’t do this without you”

#21: “Guess who broke their nose! Me. It’s me. I broke my nose.”

Word Count: 2000+

MASTERLIST

“Are you SURE that this is a good idea?” The words came from Y/n as Steve parked the car, waving through the windshield window at Jonatan, Nancy, Robin and a new friend, Bianca. They’d all decided on a triple date and like idiots they’d let Steve, Bianca, and Nancy decide so they were now all headed on a hike. Robin was the least athletic of all of them and hated exercise of any kind. Jonathan was the one in the group who hated being outside in the sun and much preferred being inside cuddled on the could other swaddled in bed. Y/n... well Y/n was the single most clumsy person you’ve ever met.

Now, take whatever image that popped in your head when I said that and then make it ten times worse. Then take THAT mental image and multiply by it by ten AGAIN. Y/n was worse. He was absolutely sure he was going to thrip and fall over the side of some steep hill and fully die. He would be lucky to make it out of this trip without a stick going through his eye. Y/n and the outdoors didn’t mix. They never had. He could barely walk, let alone when it was uphill and outside and humid and hard to breathe and everyone was so beautiful and distracting.

Steve didn’t agree with that analysis.

“This is a great idea actually,” Steve decided with complete confidence. “Don’t worry about it okay? You’ll be fine.”

“Incorrect,” Y/n Aries immediately. “We started dating because I tripped seven times and you caught me every single one. I tripped seven times in three days Steve - and that was just the, what, one hour a day you’re with me? In THREE HOURS I TRIPPED SEVEN TIMES!” He was whisper yelling, getting rather heated. “I’m going to knock my head into a tree and bleed out.”

Steve laughed. He reached over, taking his boyfriend’s hands. “Do you trust me?”

Y/n’s shoulders sagged. “That is a cheap trick, Harrington.”

In response Steve only raised his eyebrows. When Y/n refused to answer, Steve sighed. “Y/n. Do you trust me?”

Closing his eyes a second, Y/n held in a sigh. When he opened them again, he managed a small smile. “Yeah. I trust you.” Steve went to get out of the car and Y/n caught his wrist. “Just promise you’re going to stay with me okay? I can’t do this without you. I’m serious.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on Drama King.” They both got out and made their way over to the other four.

“Hey guys!” Nancy greeted warmly. She had calmed a lot since Y/n had first met her. Darkened. But she was still pleasant enough, and Y/n tolerated her for Steve. He didn’t know why they were all friends after Nancy’s brutal ripping up Steve’s heart but... he expected it was that trauma bonding things that Steve and Robin refused to ever talk about with Y/n in the room.

“Hey bestie.” Robin winked at Y/n and he felt himself relax. Around her he always felt more comfortable. She got him on a much deeper level than Steve did. She had actually been the one to set them up after failure after failure of Steve’s attempts on girls who came to the ice cream shop they met at originally. It had gone up in flames recently, but they’d snagged a job at a movie store so they still worked together. Y/n was pretty sure neither of them would have it any other way, even if they sometimes pretended to hate each other.

“Hey loser,” Y/n joked back. Robin shoved him and he laughed, accidentally ramming into Jonathan as his feet almost came out underneath him. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbled.

Robin scoffed in amusement. “I always forget you have two backward feet.” This was something she said often, in reference to the popular statement of ‘two left feet’. One day Robin had proclaimed that Y/n was something worse than two left feet, and then being backward had kicked off as an inside joke.

“I’d you have that problem standing still, how do you think you’re going to do on a hike?” It seemed Bianca was trying to get in on the joking, but it hit a hard cord with Y/n.

He wasn’t in the mood to joke. “What can I say? Great day to die.” He put on the fakest smile ever. “Come on everyone!” Then he began to surge ahead, onto the trail, and the others scrambled to catch up.

It didn’t tale long for Nancy and Bianca to hit the head of the trail. Steve dutifully stayed by Y/n, but he watched the girls head with a sort of forlorness. Because Y/n was so slow and Jonathan and Robin lagged even behind him, the two girls in front were racing up and down the steep sides of the path they were on, jumping over logs and hopping up on stumps to make the path harder. They were laughing hard and having a great time. Y/n knew that Steve desperately wanted to join them.

What kind of a boyfriend would Y/n be to stop him? “Go on,” Y/n sighed, nudging Steve forward encouragingly.

Steve looked at Y/n with an expression that tried far too hard at innocence to succeed. It was so obvious he was full of crap that Y/n was rolling his eyes before the brunette even spoke. “What? What do you mean? I’m having a great time with my boyfriend which was the point of this whole thing. Have I bored you already?”

“No, but I’ve bored you. Go and do parkour with the bad ass chicks up there. Go on.” Steve hesitated, but when Y/n shot him a look, he finally did speed ahead to catch up and join in the unnecessary shenanigans that gave Y/n extreme anxiety just imagining himself doing. He sighed watching Nancy and Steve. He knew that things were WAY over between them, but Y/n found a little jealousy in the way they worked together so fluidly. They were perfect for each other - even as friends. She just kept up with him and challenged him in a way that Y/n never could, and Steve thrived.

Slowing down in his moment of annoyance, Robin and Jonathan caught up to him. “Welcome to the world of those who have to sit back and wonder why they’re not still dating,” Jonathan sighed. His voice was as laced with bitterness as Y/n’s thoughts were.

“They’re so complimentary,” Y/n complained.

“You could argue that you guys are the same,” Robin pointed out. “You both hate doing anything outside or away from home. You both love reading and photography. I mean Y/n’s incredible view of the world allows him to be a great writer, but it also connects you two. Writing and photography aren’t far from each other and you prod that every day. Nancy can’t slow down enough to appreciate things like Jonathan does, and we all know Steve is no reader.” She chuckled. “And we’ll never know how awkward and snappy got buff and pretty.”

Jonathan and Y/n smiled at that. “Imagine another world where Nancy and Steve stayed together. Then maybe you and me would have-“ suddenly he lost his words as he tripped, and Jonathan reached out to catch him. The two boys busted up laughing. “That’s the second I have to say both sorry and thank you for your reflexes Mr. Byers.”

“Ah anytime. That’s what friends do. Share interests and talk about alternative world where they’re dating and catch each other when they almost die.”

That made Y/n laugh harder.

Suddenly there was a very unpleasant thump and a scream. The three in the back snapped their attention to the three ahead and saw Nancy and Bianca freeze and look back at Steve, who had landed on the ground. His hands had risen to cover his face, and he slowly turned on his side, curling in on himself. It seemed like he’d misstepped at some point and tripped and fallen.

Perhaps Y/n shouldn’t have been the one they worried about on this trip...

-

When they finally got Steve to the hospital, it was a mess. There had been blood everywhere, and Y/n’s weirdly good driving had saved the day in a pinch once again. They’d gotten there quickly and in one piece without getting pulled over.

Only an hour later they were given news. Steve came out with the skin around his nose already bruised and puffy. “Guess Who broke their nose,” he mocked in a song songey voice.

“Me?” Y/n joked.

“Me!” Steve agreed, pointing at himself. “It’s me. I broke my nose.” He slung an arm over Y/n’s shoulders and the other four covered their mouths to hide laughs. People wouldn’t be forgiving in public if it got out that the two men were dating, so they were trying to be lowkey.

The Doctor came over behind Steve. “He’ll be fine. I’ve given him direction son how to ice it and even given him some pain killers to help with the next few hours. But it is just a broken nose, so nothing too severe.”

“Thanks,” Y/n told the Doctor. They left then, everyone heading home. Y/n designated himself in charge of caring for Steve, and called his parents to let them know that Steve ‘got tired’ after the hike and totally knocked out. They didn’t mind, liking that Steve was actually spending time with other kids again, so it went without too much problem.

As Y/n was tucking Steve into bed, Steve caught his hand to still him. “I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. They hadn’t said that yet but... well, if hypotheticals with Jonathan had taught anything today, it was that Y/n was glad he was in this version of things, even if it was a little more complicated this way. So he meant it when he replied, “I love you too Stevie.”

Steve glared. “Not Jonathan?”

“Jon-“ Y/n’s deep confusion cleared as he realized what had been happening right when Steve had tripped. Jonathan and Y/n had been close. Laughing. Talking. Touching. “Oh my god Harrington did you break your nose because you were being a jealous idiot?”

“Maybe,” Steve grumbled, looking away.

Y/n laughed, gently tugging on his chin so their eyes met again. “Please sweetheart, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Me and my two backward feet are going to plague you for the rest of our lives.”

Steve’s eyes got very soft. “Do you really mean that?”

Getting sincere, Y/n leaned down and kissed Steve’s forehead. “Stephen Harrington, I’ve never meant anything more. I know we can’t get married or anything, or even date publicly, but... I don’t care. And maybe that’s some really forward thinking and we haven’t been dating that long, but I fell... a LOT of times in my life. It only made sense that the first time someone ever caught me, it was you. And it made me realize that I was gifted with my two backward feet so that one day I’d fall for you.”

Steve groaned. “That was painfully cheesy.”

“Okay, okay,” Y/n dismissed, rolling his eyes. The sweet moment was completely ruined.

“No seriously I would break my nose again before hearing that-“

Y/n reached over, turning the light off before climbing into bed with Steve. “Shut up Harrington, or I WILL break your nose again.”

Steve laughed before pulling Y/n close so they could fall asleep curled up with each other. “My cheesy, dumb, clumsy boy,” Steve mused quietly.

That made Y/n scoff. “If either of ya is the dumb in this relationship it’s YOU, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve whispered. It was quiet a while before he finally followed up with, “I’d like that future with you too.”

To hide his smile, Y/n mumbled, “Good night Stevie.”

After a second, Steve replied, “Good night, Y/n.” And for now, that was the end of it.

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: five ( 4.7k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The grocery store was a mess of color and light. You swore you’d never seen so much food in one place. 

Back when your mom had been alive, you’d never really gone to traditional grocery stores. You’d always just visited markets where your mom knew the vendors and could talk down their prices on ugly produce and day old bread. After she’d died, you’d eaten whatever the staff in the group home had provided, then whatever you could scrounge up from convenience stores. Most of the time since you’d aged out of social services, you survived off the free rice and kimchi available in your goshiwon. 

Occasionally, you’d eat at work with your free staff meal, but you tried to avoid it. You knew the sight of you wolfing down ramyeon and cold kimbap as fast as you could made Jiah worry. If she ever saw you looking too haggard, she’d try to slip some home made meals to the front desk of your goshiwon when you weren’t looking and that was as embarrassing as it was helpful. 

For as long as you could remember, the question of where your next meal was coming from had hung over your head like a dark cloud. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem any longer. 

Aisle after aisle stretched out before you, blindingly bright. It looked like an amusement park. You were finding it hard to stop staring. You reached out in a haze and picked up the juiciest apple you’d ever seen. Sure, you sold them all the time at Quickstop, but they’d always been dull and just the slightest bit bruised. This one was perfect: fire engine red and still wet from the mister. It was cold and heavy in your hands. You almost felt like crying.

“You good?” Yoongi is beside you, leaning over on the shopping cart, his chin in his hand. He looks dreadfully bored. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, setting the apple gently back in its place. “Yeah; just got distracted for a second.” You give a single tug on the front of the basket to move him along, and he follows, shuffling against the bright white linoleum. 

“Why aren’t you getting that?” He calls, just before you can round the corner into the dry goods aisle. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, confusion slightly furrowing your brow. “Don’t you want it?”

Your eyes flick from his face back to the glittering heap of fruit. You gnaw at your lip. “...They’re 6,000 won a kilo.”

Yoongi purses his lips. “That’s not what I asked you.” 

“I don’t need them,” you huff, trying to stave off the beginnings of another argument. “There’s more important things...like you three and getting you clothes and better furniture and-” Before you get the chance to finish, the gray haired man has ducked back around the corner. He returns with two three kilo bags of apples and dumps them unceremoniously into the cart. 

He looks up at you, brows raised and his eyes daring you to say something. All you do is sigh. “Yoongi-”

“Jimin likes apples.” He says, before you can get a word in edgewise. “They’re for him.” You can’t argue with that. He pushes the basket forward and you two drift down the next aisle. 

There’s a question resting on the tip of your tongue and as you compare brands of rice, you spit it out. “So...what do you guys eat? I read an article that said to mainly feed cat hybrids fish, but...”

“But we’re not house cats.” He finishes, flipping over a box of cereal to read the back. His nose wrinkles at something he finds and he slides it back onto the shelf. It’s cute, you think- or would be if you couldn’t see the tips of his razor sharp incisors poking out when his lip curled up. Yoongi senses your gaze and looks over at you. You look away quickly and make yourself busy reading a label. “We can eat pretty much anything you’d eat. Not too much processed shit or we’ll get sick. Whole foods are better.”

You nod, making a mental note to forego sodas and chips. “And when you’re shifted?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t really eat when we’re shifted down unless we plan on staying there for a long time.” 

You choose a 10 kilo bag of rice, tug it out from the shelf with a little grunt and plop it onto the basket’s bottom shelf. That was good, you supposed. You were worried you were gonna have to watch three big cats rip into raw meat whenever it caught their fancy.  “Why don’t I push the basket and you can pick out things Taehyung and Jimin would want?”

He nods and shifts to the other side of the aisle. “What’s my limit?”

You pause for a moment, then stand and fix him with a strange look. “What do you mean?” He isn’t looking at you. He’s comparing two brands of cereal, scanning the nutritional facts on the back. 

“How much am I allowed to spend on food?” he questions, simply. “-and what foods are we allowed to eat?”

You balked at him. “.. .you want me to control your diet?”

“I don’t want you to, but most owners prefer a certain look.” He turns his flat, yellow-grey eyes on you. “So what is it? No carbs? no sugars? Low fat? No fat? Dairy-free-”

“Oh my God, no!” You yelp before he can list any more diets. You’d said it a little louder than you’d intended and a well-dressed mom at the other end of the aisle fixes you two with an odd look before hustling her twins into another part of the store. You wince, but continue in a quieter but no less urgent voice. “I mean, I’m not gonna tell you what you can and can’t eat that’s…” 

“It’s not unusual,” Yoongi cuts in before you can give voice to your thoughts. He sets one of the cereal boxes, decorated with bright colors and little cartoon animals, back on the shelf and tosses the other -something in a dull green and white box with a little piece of wheat on the front- into the cart. “You didn’t feed us last night.”

A pang of guilt shoots through you. You curl your fingers around the bar of the cart, stare at your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, with all the sincerity in the world. “I was tired -and I know that’s not an excuse- but I fell asleep without thinking of you guys. It won’t happen again.” 

“Relax,” Yoongi drawls.”It’s not the first time we’ve gone hungry; I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He starts drifting toward the end of the aisle, but before he can go, you catch him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt. 

There’s barely an inch of fabric between your thumb and forefinger, but the look Yoongi gives you makes it look like you’d yanked him back by the collar. He whirls on you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into something sour. You’d overstepped by grabbing him. Still, you speak. “That was the last time. I mean it.” 

The hybrid’s face shifts from irritation into something unrecognizable. He’s looking at you like there’s an equation written behind your eyes that he’s trying to work out with his own, like if he looks deep enough into them he’ll find the answers etched across your sclera. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the seconds drag on, but you don’t look away. Instead, you hold his gaze and let the moment swell under almost unbearable tension.

Yoongi gives first. He tugs his sleeve out of your grip and shuffles back out of reach. “Whatever you say,” he scoffs, stalking off into the next aisle, his ears tilted back and tail tip flicking in irritation. 

You sigh. You’d done it again. The urge to catch him again wells up in you, but you tamp it down. ‘Time and space,’ you remind yourself. ‘Give him time and give him space.’ Satisfied once the distance between the two of you is enough, you go to follow after him, but hesitate as you pass the cereal he’d been looking at. You tug it off the shelf and place it in the basket underneath a few other things so it’d be hidden. You don’t know why and if he asked you about it later you were sure you’d draw a blank. If nothing else, you told yourself as you hurried to catch up with your hybrid, he’d have a choice.

The rest of the grocery trip passed in silence, just as it’d begun. Yoongi didn’t so much as look at you, but that was fine. You were focused on watching him. Anything that he gave more than a passing glance went into the basket. If the bobcat hybrid noticed your rapidly increasing haul, he didn’t say anything about it. He was silent.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Even when you flinched as the cashier announced the total and you waffled between trying to walk home or calling a taxi. Even in the lobby then the elevator on the way up as Mr. Park talked both of your ears off and you had to stop him from carrying your groceries in and stocking the fridge himself, Yoongi had remained eerily quiet. It’d given you time to think. 

You didn’t know much about hybrids. If you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t known anything about them prior to what you’d anxiety-googled yesterday afternoon. You were so far out of your depth, it was miracle you hadn’t drowned yet. Still, you weren’t completely oblivious.

In between Yoongi’s open hostility, Jimin’s blase attitude toward his own objectification and what snippets you’d heard about Taehyung’s early life, you knew something must’ve been very, very wrong with the people who’d had them before they’d been foisted upon you. The expectation that you were supposed to treat hybrids like actual pets made you uncomfortable enough without the assumption that you’d be dressing them up like dolls and locking the snack cabinets at night. 

A spike of anger shot through you. They might’ve been different than humans but they were still people. They hadn’t deserved whatever shady things their owners had done to them and you didn’t want them to come to expect them from you. You shift the grocery bags up your arm, freeing up a hand so you can punch the code into the door. There was no way around it. The four of you would need to sit down and have a good long talk. 

The second you punch the code into your door it swings open. “Hey, Jim-” the greeting dies on your tongue. It’s not Jimin who meets you at the door, but Taehyung, freshly showered, the curly ends of his hair dripping water onto the white tile and the front of his sweatshirt damp. His eyes were still hidden behind his hair but you could see more of him than you’d been able to that morning when he’d shifted. 

Well, not more of him. He was wearing clothes now, for one- a dark brown version of the sweat suit Yoongi and Jimin both wore. He was taller than you, which you’d known when he’d wrapped his arms around you, but looking up at him now you have to tilt your head back a bit. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed. “Wow.”

The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. “Hi.” His voice is still as deep as it was this morning. Was it always like that? He turns his attention to the hybrid behind you and his lips part in a blindingly bright boxy grin. “Hi, hyung.”

Yoongi hums a hello and slips past you through the door. His shoulder brushes against Taehyung’s and the younger hybrid chuffs happily a little in his throat. He leans down as the older man passes and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. Their tails twine together briefly before the gray-haired hybrid is out of reach and dropping an armful of groceries off in the kitchen. 

“You shifted up,” you remark “Did something happen?” There’s a tick of concern in his voice. You step to the side of the doorway so the pair can talk without you in the middle.

Taehyung shakes his head, water droplets scattering. His hyung let out a hiss that erred just on the wrong side of animalistic as some of them hit him. You freeze, but the tiger hybrid just laughs. “No, Jimin and I were just-” His smile falters. You can’t see his eyes but his ears have twitched downward and his tail is suddenly stiff, only the tip ticking back and forth. The hybrid lowers his head, and you finally catch sight of eyes, gleaming amber and full of fear. Behind him, you see Yoongi catch a whiff of his junior’s souring scent and his head whips toward the pair of you, ears straight up and his whole body on high alert. 

Worry draws your brows together. “Taehyung?” you call softly. You reach out with your free hand to touch his shoulder, then think better of it. Your fingers hover uselessly and inch away from him. In this moment, that distance feels a mile wide. The line of his shoulders is rigid and he’s withdrawn into himself. “Taehyung, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We went out.” He blurts, snapping his head up to look in your eyes. His own are wide and earnest. “You left your backpack open and I saw the list you made with all the phone numbers and passwords and the door code was on there and I really wanted to go to the park. Jimin told me to wait but I made him come with me; we were only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear. We didn’t even make it; the same police officer from earlier was still on the street.” 

“Taehyung-”

“Please-” he cuts you off before you can even get a word in edgewise. “Please, just punish me; Jimin didn’t do anything. The whole time he was trying to make me go back. He only went with me so I wouldn’t be alone.” 

Your heart wrenches in your chest. You do touch him, then. Your fingertips barely graze the material of his sweatshirt, but he flinches and you pull away. Your hand drops to your side, limp. “Can you and Jimin meet me in the living room?” You ask him, careful to keep your tone light and non-threatening as possible. “We need to talk.” His ears droop, but he nods and shuffles off to do as you ask. You trail behind him into the penthouse, making sure to give him enough space. The last thing you wanted to do right now was crowd him.

You drop the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and look up to find Yoongi squinting at you. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at any moment. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out watery and wan. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “We’re just gonna talk.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you. 

Still, he follows you into the living room, takes a seat on the couch while you settle cross-legged on the ottoman across from him. A few seconds later, Jimin and Taehyung slink down the stairs. The tiger hybrid is clinging to his hyung who, for once, isn't smiling. Jimin’s face is settled into a cool mask of neutrality. You almost don’t recognize him. 

They sink into the couch on either side of Yoongi, their backs stiff and eyes on anything other than you. For a moment, the four of you sit there in uncomfortable silence. You speak first. 

“Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi-”

“Y/N,” Jimin cuts in, “Whatever Taehyung told you-”

“-I’m sorry.” You finish. That seems to surprise them. You interlock your fingers on your lap and look at each one of them individually. “I’m sorry that I didn’t check to see if there was food in the house last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you had the things you needed to feel comfortable here. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t allowed to leave.” 

Taehyung swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He’s got a death grip on Yoongi’s arm with one hand and the other fisted in the fabric of his sweatpants. “You...You’re not mad?” The tremor in his voice makes your heart ache. 

“No,” you tell him with all the sincerity in the world. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that you were ever around someone who made you feel like you needed to apologize for wanting to see the sun and I’m angry that they made you think that was something to be punished for.” It was true. Beneath your sadness, beneath your shock at his expectation of punishment, anger was twisting in your gut. What type of person would reduce another to fear and trembling for the sake of leaving the house? “I’m not going to...to punish you, I need you to know that.” You tell him, before looking at Jimin and Yoongi. “Any of you. Ever. I’m never gonna hurt you.” 

Taehyung’s jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to cry. All the wind has gone out of Jimin like a deflated sail and the leopard hybrid just looks exhausted. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in both of their backs. You can’t tell from his face, but by the way his ears have relaxed, you think he was worried about your reaction, too. 

You let out a little exhale and slouch. “Whatever happened to you with your previous...the people you lived with before? It wasn’t okay.”  You’re as firm with it as you can be while still keeping your tone gentle. “They were supposed to take care of you and love you and help you grow, but if they starved you, if they made you feel this bad, if they treated you like property, then fuck them. I don’t want to be anything like them.” You admit. “I don’t want to be your owner and I don’t want you to be my pets.”

“What do you want us to be to you then?” Yoongi rasps. Despite the question, there’s no challenge in his voice. He’s genuinely asking. 

One corner of your mouth quirks up and you give him a small shrug. “Friends, maybe? Eventually, if we can. For now let’s try…” you search for the word you want. “Roommates?” You supply. “We live together, but you guys don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I’ll get you phones tomorrow, if you want, and copies of the credit card. We can get you clothes and furniture too. And if there’s anything you want to do or want to see, go see it. The door code is 0613.”

The tension that’d run between the three hybrids like a livewire is gone. Now they’re...if not relaxed, then at least relieved. There’s nothing else to be said. You stand and move to hurry into the kitchen so the trio of hybrids can have their space. The last thing you wanted to do after having a talk about their freedoms was crowd them. Before you can take three steps there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. It's Taehyung's. 

The tiger hybrid is looking up at you, his eyes beseeching and a nervous tremble in his bottom lip. “Don’t go,” he croaks, sounding like he’s still unsure just how to use his voice. He tugs once on your coat sleeve. “Please.”

Your eyes flick from him to his hyungs. Jimin’s looking at you with apprehension, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s a split second away from helping the tiger hybrid drag you down- but Yoongi’s face is turned away from you. As usual, you can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m just going to the kitchen,” you assure him. “I’ve gotta put the food away-” Your brain short circuits as the tiger hybrid flips your hand over and presses his face to your palm. His eyelashes brush against your lifeline; his lips trace the veins in your wrist. 

You’d never say it outloud, but it was hard to deny you were touch starved. You could count on one hand the amount of times someone had touched you gently since your mother died. You didn’t show yourself kindness most days and you’d come not to expect it from others. The world was cold and cruel, and you were far too old to be seeking solace from strangers. You’d thought you were above it, but the feeling of Taehyung nipping at your radial artery is almost enough to make you go to pieces. “Just a little bit,” he huffs, his voice muffled against your skin. 

“...The groceries will get warm,” you argue, finally managing to make your mouth move. “Do you wanna eat hot kimchi?” 

“I’ll put them away.” Yoongi is up and vaulting over the couch before you can get a word in edgewise. With him gone the last of your excuses goes up in smoke. Taehyung smiles against your skin and you let yourself be pulled down.

No sooner have your legs touched the cushion, then Taehyung is snuggled up against your side, his arms wrapped loosely around your middle and the cool tip of his nose pressed into your neck. “Tell me again,” he murmurs softly. “Can you tell me again that you’re not mad?” He wanted reassurance. The least you could do was give it to him.

You slip a hand into his hair, scratch gently at the base of his ears. He chuffs happily, the sound vibrating in his chest as he presses closer to you. “I’m not mad at you, and you’re not in trouble, buddy.” You tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

A warm presence on your left tells you Jimin’s settled in beside you. Sure enough, a second later a golden tail is tracing the edge of your calf. “Don’t leave me out,” he purrs, settling his chin on your shoulder.

You slide a hand into his hair too, letting the locks slip through your fingers as you pet him. “Never.”

The three of you stay like that for what feels like an hour. Even when their hyung finishes putting the groceries away and returns to sit with them -albeit at the far end of the sectional- they don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to disentangle themselves from you. You’re surprised to find you don’t mind it. The weight of two grown men against your shoulders was heavy, but not uncomfortable and they were warm and the steady hum of Jimin purring is almost enough to lull you to sleep. You cut a movie on and order samgyeopsal. You think they’re gonna kill the delivery man for making you get up, and they stay glued to your back even as you pay. It’s not until the first movie goes off and Taehyung and Jimin are playfully bickering over what to watch next that you’re able to slip away to the bathroom.

You shuffle quickly down the wide hallway, trying to remember which door the closest bathroom lay behind. You careen around a corner and run smack into someone. They let out a huff and you stumble back a few steps, an apology on your lips. You look up and find Yokngi there. Guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Between Jimin purring in your ear and Taehyung rubbing his cheek against your hand every ten seconds, you hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Sorry,” you mumble. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “For what?”

You’re not even sure you know.

He stares at you and you stare back, frozen. Finally, the bobcat hybrid sighs and gestures at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles. 

You approach hesitantly, not trusting him to not suddenly snap at you. “Why?” You ask, apprehensive. Should you have not let Taehyung and Jimin scent you? He’d been around the entire time and hadn’t said anything, so you’d thought it was fine. Maybe you’d made a mistake. You gnaw at your bottom lip and creep slowly closer to the hybrid before you. Another miscalculation, another mess-up, another mile tacked on to that incalculable distance between you and Yoongi. Should you apologize again? Would taking a shower help wash their scents away?

Before you can volunteer to do any of that, Yoongi reaches forward, hooks one finger through your belt loop and drags you toward him. You feel a yelp crawling up your throat, but it’s stopped dead in its tracks by the feeling of Yoongi cradling your jaw and his lips pressed against the column of your throat. His spine is tense and his tail is ticking in the way it does when he’s irritated. “...What are you-?”

“They’ve both scented you.” He murmurs. “If I don’t, they’ll think I’m rejecting you. My job as their hyung is to put them at ease. If I can’t do that, I’m useless.” Despite his closeness, despite the way his fingers were slipping into the hair at the base of your skull, despite the little nips he’d started giving you, you could practically feel his reluctance.

You exhale and push against his shoulders. “Yoongi…” He doesn’t budge. “Hey-”

“There’s no good reason for me to not just mark you and get it over with.” There was that word again. You’d forgotten about it in the whirlwind that followed, but Jimin had joked about marking you earlier, hadn’t he? And Yoongi’d gotten upset with him. From what you were gathering, it was a lot more serious than scenting. 

“I don’t want you to.” That gets his attention. The hybrid pulls away and fixes you with an odd look, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Owners always want us to mark them.” You feel that same twinge of anger again. The articles had said scenting was a sign of trust and security. It was used to mark family members. Had the people they’d been with before forced their way into their family without the hybrids consent? Without Yoongi’s? No wonder he’d been touchy about his juniors scenting you right away.

“Well, I don’t.” You give him a gentle nudge and put a few inches between the two of you. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or not ready for.” You offer him a smile you hope comes across as reassuring. “You not wanting to is a good enough reason for me. Besides,” you say, turning to head back to the living room, the original reason for your trip forgotten. “I’ve never been marked before, so it’s not like i’m missing out on anything.”

At that, something flashes in Yoongi’s eyes that you have no name for. It passes as soon as it’d come. “Come back when you’re ready!” You call over your shoulder, retreating back down the corridor before he can say something one way or another. 

When you settle back on to the couch two minutes later, There’s a movie queued up and ready to be played. It’s an action movie, one you haven’t seen before. “Yoongi’ll be back in a second,” you tell the boys. “Let’s wait for him.” 

Taehyung hums his ascent, leaning in to settle back in the crook of your neck- but something stops him. He hovers near your neck, takes a few short inhales and tosses a look at Jimin behind your back. You frown. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung responds a bit too quickly, lacing your fingers together to distract you as Jimin gives the other side of your neck the same treatment. The leopard hybrid purrs, seemingly happy at what he’s found. His ears swivel up and a second later, Yoongi slinks back into the living room. 

“Hyung…” Jimin starts, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

“Play the movie.” His hyung orders. He does, but there’s still a little smirk on his lips.

The screen darkens and the opening credits roll as Taehyung and Jimin settle back against your side, careful to avoid your neck. Yoongi drops onto the couch, this time only a foot away from the three of you. You allow yourself a little spark of relief. The distance was starting to close.

[astaroth1357]

Hi can I request the boys reactions to coming back and seeing that MC has snucked into their beds

The Brothers Find the MC Asleep in Their Bed

This is that other bed request. Back to my fluffy content! Huzzah!! I was a fidgeting mess on that last one… If it wasn't in second person I probably would have never gotten through it… 🤦‍♀️😅 Amazing how distancing the pronoun "you" can be when you're writing: "Oh no, this ain't happening to me, it's gonna happen to you. I dunno what to tell ya." 🤷‍♀️ I give my props for this to one to my favorite jazz singers, Nicki Parrot, and her rendition of I Won't Last a Day Without You.

Intro:

If you're missing someone and, presumably, you have a fairly intimate relationship then something you can do is stay in their bed. Sure, your loved one’s body may not be next to yours but the familiarity can help soothe that aching heart… So when the brothers were away from the House for a few days, it wasn't totally unreasonable for the MC to sneak a night or two in their favorite demon's bed.

If only they had known said demon would come home early… 

Lucifer

It was a looong trip for him. Lucifer only goes up to the human world for business reasons and usually he has to bring Mammon to keep an eye on him, which he also swears ages him by a century each time he does… 

When he retired to his room that night he wasn't really looking to talk or interact with anyone, not his brothers and not even the MC. He just wanted to go to sleep…

He wasn't expecting to find his human curled up under his sheets, though. And without him there no less.

Had it been another day, he might have just woken them up and sent them away or slept somewhere else but that night, after the trip he had, he felt so… loved all of sudden...

His brothers never miss him when he leaves. They give him the usual welcoming rigmarole when he gets back, "Good to see you, how was the trip?" that kind of thing, but he can tell they're all disappointed that he's back to discipline them again…

But here was the MC, apparently wanting him back so much that they'd risk breaking into his room just to feel close to him again… It's honestly good he was the only conscious soul in the room because if anyone else had seen the look on his face, he'd have to start erasing some memories again.

He changed clothes quietly before getting into the bed himself, careful not to jostle them too much. Only once he was settled in, did he give them a tender kiss to their forehead and finally got a good night's sleep...

Mammon

Look, he never asks to be dragged along with Lucifer on his business trips! It's a pain in the ass for everyone involved so he was more than happy to be home...

So happy in fact, that he didn't think to check his bed before he went sailing into it face first…

When he didn't feel the cushion of his mattress below him, but what felt like muscle and bone, he screamed. Which caused the MC to shoot up from under his covers and scream right back at him.

The two dummies screamed at each other for about five seconds straight before it clicked that neither even knew what they were screaming about… 🙄

"MC?!? The hell are ya doin'?! This is my bed, ya know??"

Oh was he tickled pink when they told him they came there just 'cause they missed him so much… Of course they'd miss the Great Mammon! Anybody who got to spend that much time in his presence would eventually! And he had been missing them so much he could hardly see straight anyway...

"Geez, is that all? Well fine! You can stay the night, but only for tonight! … I mean, unless ya want to stay longer or somethin' crazy like that….. You want to, doncha?"

And that's how the MC ended up spending the next week in the arms of their first man… and getting a pretty good bruise on their shoulder too from Mammon's thick skull slamming into it.

Leviathan 

He was coming back from a three-day convention and boy was he tired… There's only so much excitement an introvert can withstand for that long without shutting down completely...

His first clue that something was a little off was his door. It was unlocked. Since he was positive he locked it before he left, he was already on edge... Mammon was in there stealing his stuff again, wasn’t he??

He had his demon form already out when he threw the door open, expecting to have to chase out a thief, but instead he found the MC's arm sticking out of his bathtub-bed.

Cue an incredibly flustered Levi. Did the MC really want to sleep with him? A yucky otaku?? Did they miss him that much?? For a brief moment, he hit cloud nine and beyond.

Levi was frozen in his doorway for a good five minutes, too afraid to walk in and possibly disturb them, before he finally tiptoed to have a look in the tub.

…. He may or may not have snapped a picture when he saw them snuggled against his Ruri-chan body pillow… So what if that's a little creepy??? You're creepy!!

There wasn't really a good way for him to squeeze in with them so he settled for pulling his computer chair over and taking their outstretched hand in his own...

He stayed like that all night until the MC woke up to find him passed out next to them, head rolled back in the chair but still holding their hand with laced fingers...

Satan

He hates going to the human world with Lucifer, even though he acknowledges that he's better behaved than the others for it. That doesn't change the fact that he'd much rather be back in his room with a good book...

He just wasn't expecting the MC to share his sentiments so… identically?

After his trip to Paris with Lucifer, Satan dragged his bags back into his room and expected to at least get another hour of reading in before his mind finally caught up with his body… But to his surprise, his bed was already occupied.

The MC was half-under his covers with their head wedged into the corner of the wall above his pillows, sound asleep… A stray book sat by their hand, one of his favorites too judging by the cover.

He felt the warmth of a chuckle escape his chest… How many times had he woken up in that exact same position? It was almost like they missed him so badly they tried to be him for a while... It was all too cute for words…

He put aside getting some sleep just long enough to take care of his MC, gently moving their body back under the covers and setting the book onto one of the endless stacks that surrounded his bed.

Only once he had them placed into a more comfortable position did he change his clothes and take the spot in the bed next to them…

The MC woke up very much not how they fell asleep… but trading out a good book in their hand for a warm bookworm against their body wasn't a bad deal now, was it?

Asmodeus 

He was on one of those long self-care retreats and though, yes, it was a good time he really needed a good nap after such a long trip… He was even considering shortening his nightly routine for once.

When he came into his room, he was ready to just faceplant into his pillows until he spied MC's head poking out from under his covers…

He squealed, but not out of anger or fright. No, no. He felt nothing but Pure. Joy. His heart was soaring and he could have sang, he was just that happy!

His human missed him so much that they just needed to wrap themselves up under his covers?? Well, of course they would wouldn't they? There's no good substitute for Asmo and he knows it.

His literal shriek made the MC shoot out of his bed and try to apologize but he just tackled them back down, wrapping his arms around them in a vice grip of adoration. He was not letting them back down now. It was cuddle time!

In truth, their sudden appearance shocked Asmo awake for about another hour, which he spent snuggled up to his MC and babbling about his trip. He did eventually lose steam though, falling asleep soundly with his head snuggled into the crook of their neck.

The lovey mood was dampened slightly when he woke up and realized he hadn't done any of his routine the night before, but since the MC was still resting in his arms he decided that, just this once, he didn't need to rush it...

Beelzebub 

Beel's team had just come back from a long tournament trip and, for the first time ever, he could say that he was more tired than he was hungry…

Belphie was really happy to have his twin back, but this time he was kind of ignoring his brother's excitement as his mind zoned in on his bed… He almost didn't notice the MC was even in there until he pulled back the covers to climb in himself. 

His poor sleep-deprived mind had to take a minute to catch up… This was his bed wasn't it...? 😰

"Beel? Is that MC?" "... I think so?" "Why are they in your bed?" "I don't know… Maybe they just wanted to sleep here?" "... Uh-huh. Hey, Beel, I know you're tired. How about you just take my bed instead since it's free? I'll take yours tonight."

Since he was so exhausted, Beel almost considered the offer until he noticed the resentful pout on Belphie's face... Oh. Right. The MC probably wanted to sleep with him. That meant they must have missed him… That thought alone gave Beel a warm, fuzzy feeling like he'd just taken a giant gulp of hot cocoa and he just couldn't help his groggy smile.

"No… This is fine." "But-" "I don't mind, Belphie. Goodnight."

He didn't give his jealous twin any more room to argue before he climbed into bed next to the MC, nestling them close to his chest as if he was welcoming them home instead. And in his last moments of consciousness, Beel promised himself that they'd wake up just like this too…

Belphegor 

Belphie tends to hate trips about as much as Levi, especially ones where Beel or the MC can't come along... Too much hassle and all his brothers make so much noise…

When he finally got back from the trip Lucifer dragged him into, he only had one thing on his mind. Sleep. His bed was calling to him, that's where he needed to be… and the MC too, apparently?

He was honestly a little caught off guard to find the MC in his bed... The attic bed? Sure. That was their cuddle space and it was practically sacred ground at that point. But the bed in the room he shared with Beel...? They didn't stay there very often…

Which meant they weren't in his bed just because they wanted to sleep. They wanted him… Had they been awake he might have had something smug to say, but without any audience to save face to he just felt somewhat honored…

There wasn't a day that went by where Belphie didn't regret the things he'd done to them, even during the quiet moments where they assured him that they'd forgiven him for it... Seeing them there in his actual bed proved something, they chose him. No one else. 

He didn't think twice about crawling under there next to them, he even got into his usual position by their side on instinct. But this time, for a minute or two, he just watched their sleeping form peacefully and counted himself lucky to even be there…

When the MC woke up to Belphegor wrapped around them, an adoring smile nuzzled into their neck, and they just had to wonder if the mere act of sleeping alone was all they’d ever need to summon their demon home...

[twstgabrielle]

It had started off simple enough.

Just a few sniffles here and there, nothing to be too concerned about. Then you had started to sneeze which you didn't pay much attention to. After all the seasons were changing so it wasn't unusual that your nose would act up somewhat. Then you started to cough. Like the kind of coughing that made you sound like you were dying. Added with a sore throat and a massive headache it became quite clear that maybe this was more than what you originally thought. That perhaps you may have gotten a nasty cold.

But you would never admit it.

Oh hell no. You were a strong, independent person with a ton of responsibilities to do like taking care of your friends and Grimm or keeping an eye on the other dorms in case something like God forbid an Overblot occurred. You couldn't afford getting sick. So like the stubborn person you were, you continued your everyday life, getting sicker and sicker. And of course your friends began to grow concerned, especially your roommate Grimm.

"Hey minion! You sound awful! You're not dying are you???"

The feline yowled into your ear, making your headache worse. You reached within yourself for patience to deal with Grimm. While you loved him to death sometimes you really just wanted to shake him. Just a little.

"I'm fine. Now quit shouting please you're too loud-"

You'd begun to say only to start coughing and wheezing, your hand covering your mouth. Grimm flinched at the noise. You sounded horrible, what with the froggy sounding voice, sneezing and hacking. It was obvious that you weren't okay but given that Grimm had never dealt with something like this it was difficult for him to figure out how to help you other than being his usual self.

"Maybe you should stay in the dorm today."

Grimm suggested trying not to let his concerns show through. The look he received from you was not a nice one. Filled with irritation that only someone who was sick and stubborn would show.

"Grimm. I'm fine. I don't have the time to stay in Ramshackle and miss school. So let's just get our things and go."

You crocked putting an end to it. Grimm looked at you, ears flickering nervously before letting it go. The small monster knew he couldn't argue with you on this, so he decided to keep an eye on you. After all if you went down then he couldn't become the greatest mage to ever live. That and he may or may not care about you. But he wouldn't tell you that. Gathering your things the two of you headed out to get to class, the chilly autumn air hitting you full force and making you shiver. Tugging your coat tighter around you and making sure Grimm was secured within said coat, you locked up Ramshackle and went to class.

~~~~~

Ace Trappola was not the most observant person in the world. He preferred to stay in his own business and not get into things that would make his life harder then it needed to be. Which was ironic given that he was friends with you and the others who just like him were magnets for trouble. However today while he was waiting for you and Grimm to show up with the others he quickly took notice that something was off about you when you had finally gotten to them. Your eyes were somewhat glassy and unfocused, your cheeks red and your breathing seemed whistley. Your hair was a mess somewhat almost as if you were too tired to bother with it and you kinda moved like a zombie. The red head was instantly alert, and it seemed like he wasn't the only one who noticed the changes in you as the rest of the group went quiet.

"(Y/N).....! Are you alright??? You look awful!"

Deuce said instantly concerned about you. Jack stared at you in an imitating mother like manner while Epel and Sebek just looked at you baffled and concerned.

"(Y/N) you're face is all red, are you alright?"

Epel asked already reaching out to touch your face to make sure you were alright.

"Human you look horrid!"

Sebek said in a shout, making you flinch at his tone. Jack moved closer and just like Epel touched your face.

"You're burning up."

He stated his amber eyes sharp. Epel let out a small gasp when he felt your cheeks as well.

"He's right! You're burning up! Why are you out here???"

Epel asked sounding like a scolding mother. It reminded Ace of Vil scarily enough. Reddish brown eyes met your (E/C) ones.

"You're sick. You should be laying down, not wandering around in the cold. Grimm why didn't you stop them?"

Ace asked annoyed somewhat. Grimm seemed to huff and was about to snap at Ace when you'd finally seemed to snap out of your sickly stupor and glare at the group annoyed.

"I'm here because I'm fine and Grimm is not my parent so he can't tell me what to do. Now if y'all are done crowding me and making so much noise then we should be heading to class. You know Professor Trein hates it when we're late."

You snapped somewhat. Your friends quickly backed off slightly startled by your irritation and your voice. You sounded like a choking frog due to coughing so much and your runny nose. Before any of them could stop you, you were already pushing your way through them to head to class. But as you went to move faster than you were, you quickly grew dizzy and began to stumble forward. You would have hit the ground if Deuce didn't step in and grab you.

"(Y/N)!"

Your friends called your name in surprise and concern. You felt like the world was spinning and your head was pounding harshly. You were so out of it that you didn't even notice that you were being picked up by Jack to had taken you from Deuce.

"That's enough you're going to the infirmary. Ace, Deuce go to Professor Trein and let him know that (Y/N) and Grimm won't be in class today due to being sick. Epel, Sebek go on ahead and let the nurse know that (Y/N) is coming to the infirmary. I'll be right behind you as soon as I got their things and them situated."

Jack said. He got various acknowledgements from each of them before they went off to go do what was asked of them. You weakly tried to push Jack away from you but obviously it didn't work. The wolf picked you up bridal style, your bag with your school on his shoulder. Grimm was slightly panicking, not used to things like this.

"Are they going to be okay??? They're......they're not dying right.....?"

Grimm asked, the question he'd asked you this morning becoming an actual concern. What if you were dying? Humans, especially magic less ones were quite fragile he'd come to learn while living with you. And the last thing he wanted was to lose you. You were his family if he was being completely honest. Jack gave Grimm a look, his ears flickering slightly.

"They'll be okay. They just have a cold. We just need to get them to the nurse so they can rest and get better."

He said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. Grimm seemed to take it and he sagged a bit in relief however he still glanced at you nervously. Jack began to make his way towards the infirmary, keeping a tight grip on you. You on the other hand just laid your head on his chest, coughing harshly and snuggling into him for warmth.

"You really are an idiot sometimes...."

Jack mumbled as he jogged towards the infirmary where you could hopefully get better.

~~~~~

The infirmary was filled with a few students when Epel and Sebek burst through the doors startling them. The nurse turned towards the disturbance, ready to chew someone out when she saw the two boys.

"Our friend....! They're really sick and we need help....!"

Epel wheezed trying to catch his breath. Sebek just nodded, ready to fight for a bed space should he have to. He wasn't above it, not when his friend was in need. The nurse was quick to respond.

"Alright I'll get a bed ready for them. You two go sit down and I'll bring you some water."

The nurse responded before hurrying off to do her tasks. It was only a few minutes later when Jack came in with you and Grimm. Epel and Sebek looked up to see if you were okay when the nurse came back in and quickly ushered the trio to one of the open beds.

"Lay them down here, and then go wait by the desk. I'll take a look at your friend."

She said shooing them out once you were placed on the bed. The three boys sat down slightly on edge by everything. While they maybe overeating somewhat they couldn't help it. You'd been sick for a good while and seeing you trip over your own feet due to a dizzy spell and hearing you literally hack up your lungs had not helped the situation at all. Shortly after they'd sat down to wait Ace and Deuce came into the infirmary, looking breathless like they'd ran all the way.

"Professor Trein says that (Y/N) and Grimm are excused. How are they?"

Deuce asked as he sat down next to Epel. Ace plopped down next to Sebek, running a hand through his messy reddish brown hair.

"We were just told to sit here and wait. The nurse is checking them over now."

Epel replied quietly as to not disturb the other students in the infirmary. Deuce nodded leaning back into his chair. The group of five sat there silently, catching their breath and waiting for the nurse. After what had felt like forever when in reality it was only a few minutes the nurse finally came back out.

"Well your friend has caught a nasty, nasty cold. I'm guessing that due to the autumn air, possibly stress from working so much and a few other things made them get sick. The best thing to do is to let them rest and take some cold medicine. Otherwise your friend is fine."

The nurse said with a smile. The boys sagged with relief glad it was nothing serious.

"We'll make sure they do."

Deuce said determined. The nurse smiled again before going to check on the other students in the infirmary. The group made a silent agreement then. They'd make sure that you got better and did as you were told until you finally became well again. You were their companion after all and you'd helped them out more times than they could count. The lest they could do was help you out as well.

~~~~~

When the boys had finally gotten you back to your dorm with the medicine the nurse gave to them, it was no surprise that the news of you being sick made its way around the school. You were pretty famous after all what with the Overblots and whatnot.

"Ahhh (Y/N) really is a reckless thing aren't they?"

Cater said, somewhat concerned. Trey gave a nod of agreement while Riddle silently fumed at your reckless behavior.

"It doesn't surprise me. (Y/N) is always working hard and never really took breaks. It's a miracle it took them this long to catch a cold."

Trey responded looking through his cookbook.

"Honestly, you'd think that the Prefect would know better. Great Seven they gave Ace and Deuce quite a scare."

Riddle said remembering how the duo had bursted into Professor Trein's classroom that morning and told him what had happened.

"Yeah they really did. But at least it's nice to know that they care about the Prefect under all their attitude."

Cater said with a smile. Trey smiled as well somewhat proud of the freshmen. Riddle just nodded in agreement.

"When they come back we should have them bring them some soup. Once I find the recipe we'll send a bowl of it with Ace and Deuce."

Trey said flipping through his cookbook some more. Riddle looked over his vice dorm leader's shoulder, looking slightly interested while Cater smiled a sudden beaming smile.

"I can take pictures of the soup and post them to my page. Plus I think (Y/N) will get a kick out of Riddle in the kitchen helping us out."

Cater teased. Riddle sputtered going slightly red in embarrassment while Trey silently laughed.

~~~~~

Rook watched as Vil looked at a few pieces of clothing, his amethyst hues staring at the clothing critically. The dorm leader was looking for a warm sweater that was about your size. After hearing that you'd gotten sick Vil had been rather quick in going into his famous mom mode as you'd dubbed it. The hunter made his way towards his companion, green eyes amused at how dedicated Vil was to finding you the perfect sweater.

"Any luck Roi du Poison?"

Rook asked curiously.

"Not really. I'm trying to figure out if this one will work best for (Y/N). The sweater they own is rather worn out, and it's getting colder. They really are mindless about these things, it's no wonder they'd gotten ill."

Vil said in a somewhat irritated manner. However Rook knew that under Vil's irritation was legitimate concern for you. You were always trying to help out everyone yet you always seemed to neglect yourself. So hearing that you'd gotten sick had made many of those who knew you personally grow concerned.

"Ah-ha. Found it."

Vil said grabbing a thick, fluffy sweater from the pile. It was a light lavender color and was somewhat big, with a soft kind of fluffy material. However Vil knew you'd like it given that you'd told him once that you liked oversized sweaters that were soft. Rook gave a nod of approval, a smile on his face.

"They'll love it Roi du Poison! We can send it with Monsieur Cherry Apple."

Rook said as he grabbed a nearby basket to put it in. Vil folded the sweater up with care and placed a jug of Epel's family's apple juice along with it.

"There. Hopefully this will help them feel better."

Vil said satisfied. Rook gave a small smile at the dorm leader and with that the two grabbed the basket and made their way to find Epel.

~~~~~

Ruggie had known Leona for a long time. So seeing the usually lazy lion putting so much effort into something. Especially for someone else. The dorm leader was putting together a fur blanket, that he was going to give to you to keep yourself warm during the night. After all Ramshackle wasn't the best place in the world and what with the chilly autumn nights it wouldn't help you with your cold. So here Leona was with Ruggie watching him in stunned amusement as he tried to make it look somewhat decent.

"Shishishi, who would have thought that you actually cared Leona."

Ruggie said chuckling in amusement. Leona shot him a nasty glare, his green eyes narrowed.

"I just don't want to hear the herbivores complain. It disturbs my naps."

He said stiffly, refusing to say anything more about the subject. Ruggie just snickered knowing that despite Leona's grouchy attitude, it was obvious that he cared about you......even if begrudgingly.

"Whatever you say Leona."

Ruggie said with a mischievous smile, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth. Leona's tail flicked in irritation before he went back to work, grumbling lowly under his breath.

'Stupid Prefect. This had better bring me some peace and quiet.'

~~~~~

Scarabia was a usually hectic place given that Kalim was the dorm leader but today......today the usually chipper teen was even more chaotic than usual. Rushing around the dorm kitchen, Kalim searched among the vast amounts of teas he'd required from people unable to find one specific one. As Kalim searched he didn't take notice of Jamil coming into the kitchen, the vice dorm leader's grey eyes going wide at the sight he saw.

"Kalim what the hell are you doing?"

Jamil asked startling the poor boy. Kalim about jumped out of his skin, ruby red eyes wide as he whirled around towards Jamil. The young man couldn't help but compare Kalim to a deer caught in headlights with his startled expression before the young heir grew sheepish.

"Ah Jamil I was looking for tea...."

Kalim said sounding a bit awkward. Jamil quirked an eyebrow, waiting for Kalim to finish.

"But it's this specific kind of tea. It's the kind you make me when I get sick, the one that helps soothe sore throats. But I can't find it anywhere!"

Kalim finished looking now frustrated by the end of his explanation. Jamil instantly knew what Kalim was asking for and quickly connected the dots when he realized that Kalim probably wanted to give you this tea. It had spread fast the news of you getting a nasty cold, so it wasn't a huge surprise that Kalim the sweet boy, wanted to help you.

"I know where it is. Clean up this mess and I'll be right back."

Jamil said before disappearing from the kitchen to get the tea. Kalim beamed happily and quickly started to clean up his mess, making sure that it was the way it was. By the time Jamil came back with one of the familiar containers full of the tea leaves Kalim about sprung himself onto the young teen.

"Thank you Jamil! You really are a life saver! Hopefully this will help (Y/N) get better!"

Kalim said happily hugging the flustered man.

"O-oi okay I get it-! Get off of me-! Kalim-!"

Jamil said flustered as his face grew red. Kalim just hugged him more, unaware that he was making Jamil go red. The dark haired man realized that Kalim wasn't going to let go so with a somewhat embarrassed look he accepted his fate.

'(Y/N) had better be grateful for this. The things I do....'

Jamil thought. And if his heart raced a tiny bit at Kalim's hug and happiness then that'd be his little secret.

~~~~~

"Eh Azul~ Whatcha doing?"

Floyd asked curious. Jade turned to look at the duo, also curious as to what Azul was doing. The octopus merman was making something, a bright colored liquid of sorts.

"Well if you must know I'm making something known as popsicles."

Azul answered not bothering to look up from his task. The twins exchanged a look, curiosity growing.

"Oh? And why are you making popsicles? Is it a new food item for the lounge?"

Jade asked, a sharp smile on his face.

"More like an experiment of sorts. I'm going to send them to random people to have them taste test."

Azul responded. Floyd suddenly smiled widely looking much like a predator.

"Oh~? So you're making them for Shrimp-Chan?"

Floyd said in a sing song tone. Azul froze and shot Floyd an annoyed look while Jade laughed silently at Azul's expression.

"Oh my, this is a surprise. Making a treat for (Y/N) because they're sick? That's awfully kind of you."

Jade said teasingly. Floyd let out a laugh while Azul huffed.

"Well I am a kind soul.....besides.....if these turn out right......"

Azul said a gleam in his eyes as his glasses flashed.

"Then I can make a profit off of them."

Azul said smiling a little smile. The twins smiled widely, amused by Azul's mindset.

"Ah Azul only you~"

Floyd said as Jade nodded in agreement. The trio continued to talk to one another as Azul made the popsicles, the unsaid affection that they shared for you unsaid. Besides there was nothing wrong with making a possible business move while helping someone else.

~~~~~

Idia stared at his manga collection, eyeing each one closely. He wanted to make sure he picked out a good series for you to read while you were recovering. Something simple that didn't require too much energy to pay attention to. Yet old enough that Idia wouldn't mind if something happened to the book, not that he couldn't replace it plus you much like him cared deeply for manga. So he had no problems letting you borrow them, knowing that you'd take good care of them. Ortho sat on his older brother's bed, holding a stuffed toy that he was planning to give to you to help you feel better.

"Ah w-what about this one?"

Idia asked softly showing Ortho the book. The young boy looked at it critically, golden hues focused on it.

"Hhhh I think they'd like it! It's got good reviews online and it's a simple story, I'm sure that (Y/N) would appreciate it!"

Ortho said in a chipper tone. Idia smiled a crooked smile and gathered the first few volumes of the series to send to you. Ortho placed the stuffed toy, a three headed dog plushie next to the books looking proud of himself.

"H-hopefully this will help them...."

~~~~~

Lilia Vanrouge had lived a long time. And because he lived a long time he had learned quite a bit of knowledge on humans and human illnesses. Especially since he had two sons who were human, (granted one of them was half human but still) and got sick quite often as children. Which is why he was now currently giving advice to Malleus to help him out with trying to help you in your recovery from your illness. The dragon fae was absorbing as much as he could about human illnesses, thinking about what he could do to help you. Silver was laying on the dormitory couch, already having figured out what he would send to you. A comfy pillow for you to sleep on so you could rest. Lilia watched as Malleus got lost in thought, thinking carefully.

"The children of men are so fragile......it makes it rather difficult to figure out what to get them especially when they're sick."

Malleus said softly, expression somewhat troubled. Lilia gave Malleus a small fatherly look and patted his arm.

"You'll figure something out Malleus. (Y/N) will love whatever you give them, that much I'm sure of."

Lilia said with a smile. Malleus just nodded his head before getting up to think about this more. Silver watched as his companion left before turning his amethyst eyes towards his father.

"Do you think he'll really be able to find something old man?"

Silver asked curious. Lilia gave a small knowing smile.

"I'm sure of it. Now let's get our things together to send to the wee beastie. I've got a CD to help them sleep."

Lilia said cheerfully, holding up a copy of the music him and the music club made. Silver shook his head looking unsure.

"I don't think heavy metal will help them sleep."

~~~~~

Ramshackle dorm was dark and quiet when you'd finally woken up from your sick induced sleep. Blinking in a sick way you looked around the room and you were startled to see your friends fast asleep around you. Ace, Sebek and Jack were sleeping on the ground, snoring softly. Epel and Deuce were sleeping up against the couch, snuggled rather closely. Grimm was sleeping on your pillow, snuggled close to you. Even though you were in a sick haze you couldn't help but smile at the scene.

'Good for you Deuce.'

You thought hazy like before you took notice of all the things in your room. Different types of objects and other knickknacks that weren't there before now sat in your room. Confused by all of it you shakily got out of bed to take a look and sucked in a wheezy breath.

Gifts. They were get well gifts.

From all of your friends.

You felt your eyes sting as you were overwhelmed with the sudden affection you felt for your friends from different dorms. They had put in all this effort to help make you feel better and it lowkey made you wanna hunt them all down and smother them with hugs. But unfortunately it would have to wait until you were better. Deciding to save the deep looking through for the morning you looked towards your band of boys and smiled affectionately at their sleeping forms. It warmed your heart to know that your friends cared for you. You made a mental note to figure out a way to make it up to them with all the trouble you may have caused. You were about to go to bed when the familiar sight of fireflies in the Ramshackle graveyard caught your attention.

"Tsunotarou....."

You crocked not really thinking about it as you shakily made your way towards the outside. Later you'd probably regret it but you wanted to see your friend. Wrapping your blanket tightly around your shoulders you made your way outside shivering from the cold. Shivering you made your way to the graveyard and finally caught sight of him.

"Tsunotarou.....what's up....?"

You said voice cracking slightly from your sore throat. Malleus turned towards the sound of your sickly voice, green eyes filled with concern.

"Child of man.....you should be asleep and resting....."

Malleus said his tone soft and worried. You gave him a small smile and sat down next to him, curling close to him to keep warm. The fae prince wrapped his cape around you as soon as you sat down to try and keep you warm.

"I wanted to see you......"

You mumbled shyly, your mouth filter off due to being sick. Malleus went slightly red, looking away from your honesty. You couldn't help but smile at how he was acting before you noticed him reaching for something.

"I'd gotten you a get well gift.....it's not much but I hope it helps."

Malleus said softly before handing you a wrapped package. Curious you opened it and stared at it in shock. Inside was a somewhat awkward looking scarf and hat. It was obvious that it was handmade by the way it was switched together, some of the lines awkward and messy.

"I heard that humans get cold easily so I had decided that perhaps these would help keep you warm. I apologize for the presentation. I am not well versed in making things the human way."

Malleus said looking somewhat embarrassed by his gift. You on the other hand were touched. Feeling your eyes sting again you wiped at them, sniffling due to them and your stuffy nose. Malleus instantly grew concerned thinking he'd done something to upset you when he was met with a smile.

"I love it.....thank you so much Malleus, I can't wait to wear them back to school."

You said in your stuffy voice. Malleus gave you a warm look before helping you up.

"I'm glad you like it (Y/N)......let's get you back to bed. You need to rest and recover."

The tall man said softly. You gave a sleepy nod leaning into him as he transported the two of you back to your room. Helping you into bed, you felt yourself relax and start to drift. Malleus threw the blanket on you making sure you were covered.

"Goodnight beastie. Get well soon."

Malleus's soft voice whispered before a gentle sensation touched your forehead.

'If I didn't know any better......I'd say he just kissed my forehead......'

You thought in a giddy sick daze before finally drifting off to sleep surrounded by your loved ones.

*Ah I didn't mean for this to be so long I just wanted to write some self indulgence. I've caught a nasty cold a few days ago and I've been feeling like shit so I decided to write something to make me feel better I honestly didn't mean to make it so long shdhdhdhfh. Also I may have added some ships. Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!!*