#i spent a good few like….4?6? hours on this WHEEZE

[gomzdrawfr]

Yall I’ll be dropping a thanksgiving art later mkay

[credince--writes]

Deep In Those Woods- Chapter 9

Keegan P. Russ x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6- Chapter 7- Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

AO3

You find a strange man in the woods, no doubt running from the federation. He seems, well, in simple terms beat to shit. May your act of kindness not go unpunished.

A/N: lil treat for everyone since it's been so long since i posted this fic

Taglist:

@dindjarinsmeshla @tessxq @ladyvlolypop @tiny-kasper

@biggiecheeselover @konigsleftkidney @mykneeshurt @katsufairies @noname0756 @brain-has-left @vinithechocolatevampire

All it had taken was the muzzle of a handgun stuffed into the poor fed’ saps mouth- gagging on the metal pushed to the back of his throat (before he pulled the trigger)- for Keegan to acquire the necessary materials (a donor radio) to repair his radio (Merrick was pissed).

Not only did he get a reaming that had to of ranked at least in the top four of his current reaming tally- he’d counted a least twenty-five times Merrick had broken some kind of communication guideline. But at the same time- who was going to complain? They were doing the dirty work- Merrick could cuss Russ out over the radio until the batteries died and he doubted any brass would give a shit as long as the papers came across their desk marked as a success. 

He’d conveyed over to the Ghosts that regardless of his time spent there no, he was not injured (a blatant lie)- ‘just about as banged up as usual, sir.’, the objective hadn’t been reached yet (it had gotten more complicated, and it didn’t help he’d been down for… he really didn’t know how long. Asking would give it away.), and there was a surprising amount of federation presence in this valley (which signaled exactly what they were worried about). 

What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was Merrick calling his bluff. He’s used to getting away with it- 

“You’ve been on a path of self-destruction since he died, Russ.” “I don’t need your fuckin’ pity, Merrick.”

“I need to know you aren’t a liability in the field.”

“When have I ever been? Just give me the file.”

Merrick paused, that twitch of the vein in his neck he’d always had when anyone managed to raise his blood pressure ten points. “Don’t make me regret this Russ.”

He didn’t linger on the fact that this was probably exactly what he was worried about regretting. That much so that when he’d watched Kick no so subtly kick Hesh and Logan out of the back of his bush plane and into the landing zone he’d nearly contemplated slinking back into the woods and just not coming out. But that damned dog would find him- he was sure of it.

He didn’t though.

Logans arms wrapped around him, pulling him forward and into a tight hug. “I’m so pissed at you right now-”

Keegan's ribs groaned in response, the air leaving his lungs in a wheeze and letting out a strained, quiet “Ow.”

His arms immediately retracted, scanning him up and down for visible wounds. Hesh lingering in the back, scanning the treeline with Riley at his side. He quirks a brow, glancing over at him. “You good?”

“Nothing a few hundred hours of sleep won't fix. You both didn’t need to come out-” And babysit me, you fucking pricks went unsaid. He turned, marching his way back on track- he's fulfilled the list of items that needed to be carried out before returning to you.

Soft hands, kind eyes.

Soup.

His stomach grumbled, much to his dismay.

“Where’rya headed? Towns the other way.” Logan piped up after twenty minutes of navigating the forest in silence. 

“Not headed to town. Headed up the valley.” His reply was blunt- and had he been in any sort of a better mood he’d had filtered his words to come out less like a baseball bat to the teeth.

“I think what we’re getting at is where.” Hesh bluntly replied- matching Keegans tone. Glancing back behind him to make silent conversation via eye contact with Logan.

It was going to be one of those hikes, wasn’t it.

Sure a shit hope not.

“Base of operations. Unless you want to be sleepin’ in the woods for the next month. Shut your trap and get a move on.” Keegan had been reasonably bitchy, withdrawn into himself. It really hadn’t been that long since they’d buried Ajax. There was a far away look in his eyes more times than not, a certain glaze that hadn’t gone away. Either outright ignoring Logan most days, locking himself in his room.

Merrick had grabbed Logans shoulder, pulling him back from knocking on Keegans door not to long before he’d been sent off to these woods. 

“It’s not the right time.” He’d offered.

Give him time to mourn, in his own way.

He’d wanted to bite back- like we were given time to mourn? Like we were able to shut ourselves out?

He didn’t.

“How far?” Hesh asked.

“Keeping low? Two day hike.”

One and a half days, then. 

---

A lot of people don’t realize just how quiet the forest is at night. The lack of sound out in the sticks- when the birds have gone to sleep, when the bugs and frogs aren’t nearby. The occasional hum of a mosquito just to add a whining hum into the silence.

“Be a doll and check these for me, would you?” Keegan mused to no one in particular- pulling his vest off and pulling his shirt up and over his shoulders and into his lap. “Infection check.”

At least a bit of his baseline humor returning- “Anything for you, honey.” Logan joked back. Crossing the two steps over to him and kneeling down. Both he and Hesh shared a glance at the remnants of black and purple bruises splayed out across his ribs, back onto his shoulder. “What happened?” Tentatively pulling the bandage back to see a deep, angry gash next to his shoulder blade. “And who patched you up- you can’t reach back here, let alone patch yourself up.”

Hesh knew the bruises looked worse than they were- or at least hoped. Neither were strangers just to how much of a pain rib injuries could be- let alone lingering ones not treated properly.

“I had brunch with the locals. And the bandage fairy, kid, who else?”

“Seriously-” Hesh but into the conversation- frustration rising up in his throat. 

“A Civ. Pulled me out of a ditch and licked my wounds.” He grumbled, as if the admission of it was like waving a white flag in failure- admitting that he did need help.

“I’m doing the op alone. I don’t need backup.” He tossed the folder back onto the briefing table. “That’s final.”

“Must’ve been pretty bad to down you.” Logan offered, trying to lighten the tension of the conversation.

Keegan's silence was answer enough. A silent admission- neither would press him on it. They both knew better. It was better to let it lie, for the time being. 

----

One thing they can’t turn off as soldiers, especially after time spent in no mans land-  is the light sleep. It’d saved their asses many times before, he’d agree. Fully alert, glancing to see Logan & Hesh, eyes open and on the same page as him.

Gunshots-

One thing you can’t hide, with the silence of the forest, it the piercing sound of gunshots. Even far away-

Rifle, most definitely. Multiple shots- rapid succession in a varying frequency. Not someone holding down the trigger of a full auto rifle. Multiple separate hands pulling triggers. 

“Seven.” Logan spoke, hushed down and slipped into the role of soldier.

There are probably a number of times Keegan would be able to count on his hand that he’d truly felt dread. Fear creep into his hindbrain and claw at the back of his throat as his time as a Ghost.

“We need to move now.” Keegan all but croaked out, tone evening at the end and assuming the role of Sergeant, and nothing else. All three were up and moving in step, silence. No fire to put out- the light and smoke are too risky in their situation. 

They both heard fear in his tone as they quickly, guns drawn, ran toward the sound of the gunshots. 

Keegan wasn’t going to barge in, middle of the night under the cover of darkness to startle you out of your skin. His grandma taught him better manners than that- better to show up in the morning when he knew you’d be making breakfast and grovel then. 

He knew he left on bad terms, but he was sloppy, he realized. The last time he was running in this direction it was away from a group of Federation scouts.

Was this to blame on him? Did he lure them to your home?

Your sanctuary?

Why had they waited so long, had they been stalking in the periphery the entire time he laid there? Were they expecting to find him within your doors- not you, oh God, he stares up to the sky for a moment, eyes narrowing on the bright sliver of moon in the sky.

You’d be in bed- and men would be there.

He shut his spiraling thoughts down, locked them deep within himself in that little box he’d refuse to open. Not now- maybe never.

He’d never forgive himself.

The sound of his breath, the occasional scrape of Riley’s nails against bare roots. The synched footwork of the three men breezing over the landscape and into the clearing he knew. Just above the incline would be your home nestled between the trees. Hidden from eyes for so long.

He saw the flashlight attached to a rifle, along with a corpse casting a bright streak of light into the field. Gunshot wounds would always be one of his least favorite things- the obliteration of flesh with buckshot no matter how often he saw it would always make something curdle in his gut. 

Even if there was satisfaction of knowing that it was likely you were the one that pulled the trigger.

Good Girl.

He was broken out into a sprint, passing the corpse without a glance and running into the house through the doorway. Feed crunching broken glass beneath him- the thick, tangy smell of blood hitting his senses- rifle raised.

The house had been ransacked, broken glass and furniture tossed.

He knew Logan had assumed a shadowing position behind him, Hesh not far behind and ensuring no one snuck up on them from behind. Riley an alert presence watching his back.

He peeks from over the beam, a direct line of sight- line of shot to where the blood splatter and corpses piled to your bedroom. Navigating the living area with ease- practiced and knowing that a pile of magazines and books layed around that corner. 

He payed no mind to the sound of paper rustling when Logan's foot caught it.

“Kitchens clear.” Logan muttered, moving back in step. 

He clears the hallway, knowing not much is laid ahead and signaling Logan ahead as he stops over the bodies and into your room. The gore splattered from what he assumed to be a well placed twelve-gauge shot coated the right side of your wall, covering cabinet to ceiling. 

The beds sheets hastily pulled back. Drops of blood misted against the comforter and pillow. The bedside table drawer thrown open, something pulled out from under the bed. You’d tried to run.

“House is clear!” Logan called, footsteps nearing his own from the hallway. 

Hesh staged himself in the doorway, a knowing glance to the shattered glass against the wooden flooring. He wouldn’t step in with Riley- there was no need for unnecessary injury. Not with a cleared house and nothing but corpses amongst them.

Keegan was frozen, bile raised in the back of his throat as he stared at the bloodied cotton torn between the two men's hands. Logan's eyes lingered too, a grim, knowing expression washing over his features. 

The angle of the shot, he followed through the house, implied you’d gotten to the front door. Implied you’d been able to kill three of them before you disappeared. Whether that of successfully escaping, running into the woods to hide or captured- he tried not to even will that option into existence. 

That you’d peaked out from behind the beam, killed the men huddled in your doorway, and ran to escape.

He needed to find you.

Now.

He was moving- brain on autopilot and a vile monster curling over his skin. The cold, calculated and methodical practice of a Ghost meshed with the anguish and rage bubbling up inside him. He’d pulled a shirt from the ground of your bedroom, no blood splattered against the cotton.

He remembered it, you wore it the first day he was cognizant enough to remember you spoon feeding him soup.

“Riley!” Keegan bit out, completely detached. Logan flinched at the bite in his words, the emotion, devoid and removed from the obviously distressed man in front of him. Arm outstretched, passing the shirt to Hesh before marching towards the body laying in the grass to investigate.

“Seek.”

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 16

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 16

Chapter Summary: Meet the family

Rating: 18+

Warnings: None for this chapter

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11} {Chapter 12} {Chapter 13} {Chapter 14} {Chapter 15}

"How well does she do on flights?" Henry asked quietly, nodding for Faye to slide in first to take the window seat.

"She gets sick on longer flights." Faye explained as he sat down in the aisle seat, resting the snoozing child in his lap, her chubby cheek pressed against his chest as a small bit of drool tumbled from her lower lip.

"It's a little under an hour, do you think she'll be ok?"

"She didn't get sick until after the third hour when we came to England."

"Hopefully she'll just sleep the whole time." Henry sighed, smiling fondly at the child snoozing on him. To say he was excited to introduce his girls to his family was an understatement. He had been practically vibrating with giddiness for the last two days. That in turn wound up Kal and Briar, which meant no one wanted to go to bed. Faye had counted herself lucky to get the child tucked into bed and finally asleep before 11pm the night before. Certainly not enough time for any sort of decent rest before their 6am flight. She could also tell Henry hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before, the dark circles under his eyes a dead giveaway, no matter how many times he insisted he was fine.

Maybe they could all catch a nap during the flight. That sounded incredible, though Faye wasn't sure if her nerves would allow her to actually sleep. Henry had assured her over and over that his family would love her, but she had a nagging voice in the back of her mind that kept asking her 'but what if they don't?' Would Henry leave her if his family didn't like her? What if they didn't like Briar? She could be a bit much at times. Maybe they would think she was an awful mother who couldn't control her child. She just had to keep reminding herself that Henry wasn't like that. He wasn't a controlling abuser. He wanted to see her happy. He actually loved her and she was slowly learning how to be loved in return.

Henry reluctantly slid the child from his lap and into her seat before take off, buckling the now grumpy toddler in while Faye gave Briar her stuffed bunny in an attempt to pacify her for the time being. That only resulted in the rather amusing image of an incredibly angry looking toddler hugging a very well loved stuffed bunny, glaring daggers at the seat back in front of her. The second the fasten seatbelt sign went off, Briar was back in Henry's lap, smugly snuggling back into his chest with her bunny tucked under her arm.

"I swear, she likes you more than she likes me." Faye sighed, shaking her head at her daughter.

"I never tell her no." Henry shrugged, giving the child a small squeeze.

"I've noticed." Faye grumbled.

"How do you expect me to say no to that face?" Henry challenged, nodding down to where Briar was already sleeping on him, her cheek squished up against his chest, more drool slowly soaking into his shirt.

"What if she wants to do something dangerous?"

"That's why I have her wonderful, strong, beautiful mother nearby." Henry smiled at her, chuckling at her annoyed look.

"So what are you gonna do with any future children?" Faye shot back, not missing the way Henry's entire demeanor lit up.

"I'll just have to follow your lead." He offered, trying to tame the smile from his face. This was the first time she had mentioned any more children since their scare, and just the thought was enough to make him dizzy with excitement.

"Breastfed that kid for a year and a half, and this is the thanks I get." Faye grumbled to herself, moving over to the middle seat to use Henry's bulky shoulder as a pillow.

"As much as I'd like to say I'll help you every step of the way, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be useless when it comes to that."

"Such a shame, your tits are bigger than mine."

"They are not." Henry scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Mmhmm. Mine only look nice when I roll them up into a bra so you can't see how deflated they are."

"They're the perfect size for my hands."

"And your tits are still bigger."

"Fine, but I still don't think I can breastfeed a baby." Henry relented, his face heating up when he realized the flight attendant had made it to their row with the drink cart. Her look of confused horror was one Faye would remember for years to come.

"I think we're good." Faye half laughed, Henry dropping his head in embarrassment. Sometimes people just walk up at the wrong time in a conversation.

Faye was apprehensive at first when Henry told her his brother would be picking them up from the airport. What if he instantly didn't like her? Would he just leave her there or something? It would make for a very uncomfortable car ride to say the least. Thankfully Niki and his wife turned out to be just as nice and accommodating as Henry kept assuring her they would be. Naturally, Niki stuffed his younger brother into the back seat, allowing his wife to stay up front in spite of her half hearted protest. Faye had the feeling this was an ongoing thing between them.

The sight of a toddler seat in the back, hooked in and ready to go made a strange happiness swell in her chest. Faye was grateful they had taken steps to keep her daughter safe, while Henry was slightly annoyed that he was now crushed even more. With a simple look from Niki's wife, Faye understood that this was just how the brother's were, antagonizing each other whenever possible. Niki wasted no time filling Faye in on a few stories from Henry's childhood, telling her about the time he brought a turtle home and tried to keep it in the bathtub to hide it from his parents. Then he moved on to the time he split his pants at his cousin's wedding when he was fifteen and spent the entire reception trying to talk to the bridesmaids with his underwear showing. The last one he squeezed in before his wife stopped him was when they were all younger and buried him in the snow, having convinced him that's how an igloo was built.

No one hesitated to get out and start unpacking the car once it was parked in front of a rather quaint looking house, Niki tossing Henry's bag at him, Henry 'accidentally' shoulder checking him into the back of the car good natured retaliation. Niki's wife had already gone inside to announce their arrival, giving Faye a chance to talk with her daughter before meeting everyone.

"Now remember sweetie, we need to be on our best behavior for Papa's family today, ok?" She reminded, crouching down and straightening out her daughter's jacket.

"I a good girl." Briar stated firmly, nodding her head in self assurance as she grabbed her mother's hand with her mitten covered fist.

"Yes, you've been a very good girl, even though I can tell you're really tired. I'm very proud of you, sweetheart." Faye praised, giving the child her stuffed bunny before leading her after everyone else.

"And then-" Simon wheezed, pausing to catch his breath through his laughter. "And then Henry comes back inside, covered in mud, sticks in his hair, and he's just like "well, he's not under THAT bush!'." Faye wiped a tear from her eye, holding her aching stomach. She had lost count of the stories that had been retold, everyone seeming to take a turn at ribbing each other. Henry even told the story of Faye accidentally gluing her hand to a makeup brush when she was trying to apply prosthetics. It felt almost too easy settling into his family. He had been completely honest, they were very accepting.

His mother was warm and inviting, pulling her in for a hug and whisking Faye off to the kitchen, putting a glass of wine in her hand before she had even said hello to anyone else. It felt so good to be around a family again. Faye had been close with her parents and her siblings, especially her twin sister, and it was times like this that reminded her of what she had given up to chase her dreams. She had promised to try and be home for Christmas, but life got in the way of her going back the year before. Now it was coming up, and she was wondering if Henry would be alright with going all the way across the ocean just to meet her family. Were they really that serious? She knew they were pretty serious, having moved in together, but she didn't have any prior experience to compare her current relationship to.  Would he want to spend Christmas with his family? They were all really nice and probably always spent the holidays together. Would she be interfering with a tradition by asking him to spend Christmas with her family?

"So how did you two meet?" Marianne interjected, everyone suddenly shifting their attention to the couple.

"Uhh... met at work?" Faye offered up, turning to look up at Henry to see if he had anything else to add. Always the eloquent half of the pair, Henry had plenty to tack on, telling them about how this sassy little makeup artist wouldn't give him the time of day no matter what he did to get her attention. He'd tried talking about her tattoo's: nothing. He'd tried talking about the show: nothing. He'd tried to ask her about her life: nothing.

"It wasn't until Briar's birthday that I got anywhere. I swear, if you weren't such an awful baker, you would have never even looked my way. Poor Briar made sure everyone knew you were no good at it too. Briar!" Henry called, smiling when the little girl came running in the room, a dinosaur in one hand and the other covered in a sock. "Briar, how's mummy's baking?"

"Yucky." Briar informed flatly, the adults roaring in laughter while she rushed off to go play with the other children again.

"She's actually managed to simultaneously burn and completely undercook a tray of brownies once. It was amazing."

"Wasn't that also the time I mixed up the salt and the sugar?"

"It was." Henry confirmed, pressing an adoring kiss to her temple.

"That reminds me of the time you accidentally used garlic powder instead of nutmeg in the apple pie one year." Piers turned toward his wife, laughing at her loving glare.

"Alright, alright. Enough." Simon jumped in. "We all know what needs to be discussed. Who is stronger, Superman or the Incredible Hulk?" The entire family seemed to groan in unison; this must be an age old debate.

"Superman, obviously." Henry scoffed.

"No way, the Hulk is indestructible!" Niki threw back.

"So is Superman." Charlie pointed out.

"A little bit of kryptonite and Superman is useless." Simon intervened.

"What are the odds of having kryptonite on hand, though? If we're going to be using weaknesses, when Banner couldn't shift into the Hulk during Infinity War should definitely be brought up." Faye countered.

"But we're not talking about Banner, we're talking about the Hulk, as in he already shifted." Niki complained.

"Didn't the Black Widow have some lullaby thing that turned him back?" Charlie mused.

"Come on, Faye. We all know you're just siding with Superman because you're sleeping with him." Simon teased, Faye rolling her eyes in response. She had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

By the time they returned home just two days later, Faye was utterly exhausted but filled with joy. His family was so warm and inviting. They actually liked her. They didn't look down on her. They didn't question why Henry was with someone like her. They just accepted her and her daughter as one of their own. Two more to add to the Cavill Clan.

Now that they were back at home, it felt almost empty compared to the jam packed house they had just been in. Kal was all too happy to meet everyone at the door, his food bowl still full from the last visit from the dog sitter while their mail was stacked neatly on the kitchen table waiting for them.

Henry left the bags by the bottom of the stairs to take up later, sorting the letters into two separate piles. A large envelope addressed for Faye caught his eye, curiosity prompting him to bring it straight to her.

"What's that?" Faye asked, tossing the clothing from the bags into a laundry basket.

"I don't know. Looks important. Maybe it's informing you that you just became Queen a small unknown country."

"I've always wanted my own country." Faye chuckled, ripping the envelope open and pulling out the papers inside, her face falling more and more with each passing second. Her blood ran cold as teardrops stained the paper.

"What? What's wrong? Faye, you're starting to worry me. What does it say? Is something wrong?"

"My ex... my ex is trying to sue me for custody of Briar."

@weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay  @nostalgicb-txh

[lassieposting]

otp questions for skugwife plz 🥺

1. Who said I love you first?

He did, about three seconds after laying eyes on her for the first time. He was Not Subtle. In his defence, he was in a field hospital at the time, covered in his own blood, and was high off his ass on pain relief, so.

2. Who laughs and kisses their partner on the cheek while their partner isn’t happy about something trivial to try and make them feel better?

Wifey. She's kind of handicapped here because Skug does his best to shield her from the worst parts of himself and the grim truth about war. He doesn't outright lie to her, but he'll censor what he tells her, leaving out the death and the blood and the gore, because he's grown up terrified of becoming his father and he's desperate to be the man she thinks he is, to be someone who's worthy of her love. He doesn't want her to ever look at him and see a killer. If she has to think of him at war, he wants her to think of her gallant hero who always saves the day. So a lot of the time, when he gets into a black mood, she doesn't actually know what's really distressing him. She knows he has nightmares, but he always claims he doesn't remember what they're about. She knows that sometimes he'll nick himself with a knife while he's helping her with dinner, and when she turns around he's just standing there watching his hand bleed like he's suddenly somewhere very far away, but she doesn't know why he gets like that. She knows he has days where she'll say his name four or five times before he even seems to hear her, and an unexpected gunshot from one of the neighbouring smallholdings will have him trembling and running to check on her. But she tries, when he's quiet and distant and sad. She'll hold him and stroke his hair or sing to him or take him out walking in the sunshine, and eventually he'll take her hand and kiss her knuckles and apologise for being an arse, and she never really knows how to tell him that she doesn't mind him having those days at all, she just wishes she knew how to make him stop hurting.

3. Who cuddles up to the other after a long day at work, and this soon escalates to a playful pillow fight?

Skug. They're a cuddly, affectionate couple anyway, but his favourite thing in the world is laying his head in her lap and having his hair stroked. The man melts. They'll cuddle up in the evenings and he'll keel over for her as soon as she pats her leg like come on then and they'll just. Catch each other up on what they've missed since the last time he was home, while she pets him. She'll tell him the latest drama in her friend circle and how her father's been dodging the advances of an elderly patient, and he'll give her a censored, family-friendly version of what he got up to at the front - so, all the funny stories, but with all the gore and death and hard choices edited out. If he says something sufficiently ridiculous, she'll swat him in the face with a cushion. Sometimes he'll fall asleep there and she'll keep playing with his curls until she thinks he's well and truly out of it, and then pick up her needlework to do over his head while he sleeps.

4. What is something that they gave one another that has a lot of meaning?

When they're courting, she makes him a scarf and sends it with the courier with one of her letters, because she didn't like to think of him being cold on night watches. It's red and has zero magical properties whatsoever, it's no Bespoke creation, but he wears it on every mission.

She has a locket with his portrait in it. He's ADHD as fuck and hates sitting still for hours, but she playfully tells him one time that he's "been away so long I almost forgot what you looked like," and he takes it seriously and makes sure that never happens again.

5. How would one another describe their partner?

Very similarly. They both think the other one is their better half and that they don't deserve them. She loves him because he's brave and clever and funny and not afraid to stand up for what he believes in. He loves her because she's good and kind and loving and makes him want to be a better man. They're that couple that are so caught up in each other's virtues that they completely miss each other's flaws.

6. Who wraps their arms around their partner as they look them in the eyes and compliments them with a goofy smile?

Skug, every time they go somewhere they'll be surrounded by His Kind Of People.

Wifey is a salt of the earth working/lower-middle-class sort of girl. She has a job. She's grown up doing all the cooking and cleaning for her father, and she continues to do a lot of it even after she gets married and Skug hires servants because she can't stand to be idle. She has a very limited education; she didn't spend her childhood being fussed over by governesses or taught to simper and dance and paint. So she feels very out of place at fancy Sanctuary parties, surrounded by Skug's superior officers and their sophisticated upper-class wives. She's worried about embarrassing him, she's worried about making him look bad, she's worried about being laughed at or insulted behind her back for being too common or too forthright or too lacking in pretty manners.

He'll pull her to one side before they're announced and remind her that she outshines every other woman in the room, that most of these people are boorish and ignorant anyway so who cares what they think, and that she's got nothing to worry about: she's far more charming than he is and the laws of probability suggest that if anyone is gonna put their foot in it and embarrass the other one, it'll be him.

7. Who loves saying ‘my wife’ or ‘my husband’ or ‘my spouse’?

Wifey, especially when they're newlyweds. She has absolutely no idea how she managed to land him. He's hers now, forever. She has to keep saying it to convince herself it's true. Skug is a bit baffled, but having someone so happy to lay claim to him gives him major heart eyes. He's not used to having someone be proud of him and want to show him off like he's something worth bragging about.

8. Who always talks about how amazing their partner is when their partner isn’t there and they just light up with genuine love and happiness?

God, both of them.

In Prussia, a few months after they get married, Morwenna Crow takes one for the team and spends three solid weeks indulging Skug while he talks about his wife just, constantly.

On Wifey's side, she has a gaggle of girlfriends who appear at the door of her lovely new home to take tea at the first opportunity after her honeymoon wanting all the salacious details. And? She has so much to tell them. Like a lot of young women at the time, the most she was given in the way of sex education was a vague lecture from an older married friend about Marital Duties that didn't really serve a purpose beyond making her really, really nervous about her wedding night.

(She tells Skug about this lecture while she's sprawled all over him somewhere between round two and round three on said wedding night. She's confused. She was told it would be distasteful and unpleasant and painful. Why would her friends lie to her? He laughs, and strokes her hair, and tells her her friends' husbands are clearly doing something wrong.)

So. She returns from her honeymoon with a lot of new information to share with her poor, deprived friends. She's not the only married woman in the group, but she's the only one who married for love, so the unmarried girls are looking at what they want for themselves, and the ones who married for wealth or status are lowkey living vicariously through her.

These gatherings are deeply unnerving for poor Skug. He'll pop into the parlour to kiss Wifey goodbye before he goes out riding with Ghastly, and like eight smirking women politely sipping tea will chorus good morning, Skulduggery like they know something he doesn't know, and something about the way they look at him makes him feel like they're starving and he's a juicy steak. And then he'll close the door behind him when he leaves the room and hear them all immediately explode into giggles. What the fuck do they talk about in there??? At least once he's asked Wifey if she's plotting to sacrifice him, or something.

9. Who loves it when their partner kisses them good morning?

Skug. When you've spent the last 6+ months snatching at sleep on a hard bed with itchy blankets in between night watches and enemy attacks and commando raids of your own, it becomes a real treat to get a full nights sleep and wake up in fresh sheets in your own bed with your wife pressed up against your back, kissing your neck and touching you under the blanket. He knows he's safe when he wakes up with her, and he misses feeling her burrow into his arms when they're apart.

10. Who shows the other how to balance a spoon on their nose?

Skug.

11. Who loves to pull pranks on the other? What type of pranks do they pull and do they pull their pranks off?

Wifey's favourite is to tell Skug she invited her father to stay for a week and watch him frantically try to arrange his face into any other expression than "horrified". This is doubly funny if he just came home and he's raring to get her into bed - "Oh, darling, we can't, Papa will be here shortly, and he's due to stay until Thursday next, you'll simply have to wait," - but she never lets him believe it for long. She's not, like, cruel.

12. What is something small that they would randomly pick up for one another?

Spending money is Skug's love language. He's always buying her "just a little something"s. Hair ribbons, jewellery, new dresses, books, paints...anything he sees and thinks she'd enjoy.

She bakes for him, when he's home. She doesn't think the army feeds him properly, and she knows he eats like a horse. Coming back from Ghastly's to the smell of homemade bread is one of his favourite things about being married.

13. Who is the one who can’t stop laughing when trying to tell a joke?

Wifey. She'll be doubled over wheezing, red in the face, and Skug will still have no idea what the joke is. She didn't get that far. She's the kind of person where, many hours later, he'll ask, "So what was that joke you wanted to tell me?" and it'll just. Set her off again.

14. Who would plan the other a surprise birthday party?

Skug. He's often away for Wifey's birthday, but he'll always try to wheedle some leave out of Corrival so he can come home and spend it with her. It doesn't always work - a lot of the time they simply can't spare him - but he does his best.

15. Who picks the other person up when hugging their partner?

Skug is a 6'4 beanpole of a man who likes small, petite women. Wifey is like 5'3 tops and he picks her up all the time. She weighs, like, nothing to him and she's really into how strong he is, so getting swept off her feet all the time doesn't bother her.

What does bother her is when his lanky ass forgets to bring things down from the top shelf before going away for a few months. She can't reach up there.

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 8

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~7,100

Warnings: Drugs, smut

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand

Okay, so I know that this isn’t exactly how a contact high works, but I wanted the funny moment. Suspend your disbelief a little further than it already is for me.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

“No,” she said, jabbing a finger at Javier, “I’m not doing this.”

“C’mon,” he replied, gesturing with both hands, “It’ll be a half hour, max.”

She sneered, occupying her hands with packing her bag instead of punching him like she wanted to. He was smiling in that way he did when he knew that he would get his way.  A self satisfied smirk that made her want to throw something at him.

“A half hour of your time. You’ll walk in, look around, walk out.”

Eva glared at him, “I have plans.”

And, she did. Though his evenings were often spent working into the night, Eva had been out with him several times over the last few weeks. She was looking forward to yet another night checking herself for talking too much and watching him smile wide enough that she could see his dimples.

“Push ‘em back.”

She scoffed, “I’m not pushing back plans to work in the field, which you remember that I’m not supposed to be doing.”

He waved her off, “It’ll be fine.  You’re walking into a bar, looking around, and walking out.”

“I’m not walking into any bar!”

“Well, that’s a shame.”

Eva spun around, letting out a breath as Horacio slowed to a stop, his jacket over one arm.

“Hey,” she said, her voice a hitch pitched wheeze. “I’m just gonna...finish packing up.”

He eyed the others in the room, “What’s going on?”

Steve, who had been silent for nearly the whole argument, pushed from his position against his desk, “We got a lead on a back end shipment of drugs—low level, nothing serious. And, we thought since Eva is so good at sniffing these things out, she could maybe stop by the bar and see if she could pin point where they were stashing them.”

“So basically,” Eva added, sarcasm in her voice, “They want me to do their job for them.”

Javier ran a hand over his face, “That’s not what we’re asking you to do.”

Eva glared at him a second time, one hand on her hip.

“You are good at it,” Horacio offered.

She turned her glare on him, ���You’re on their side?”

He held up a hand defensively, “I’m not on sides, just stating facts.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Okay, listen. Eva, you just go in, look around, leave. You don’t even have to order a drink. Half an hour, tops.”

Her mouth thinned as she looked at all three men, who were apparently agreeing with one another. Although they’d had plenty of arguments, it was the first time they were all on the same side and it was...disconcerting.

Horacio slipped his arms into his jacket, “Half an hour. And, she gets the day off tomorrow.  Javi, you’ll cover for her. Tell them you sent files to her apartment or something.”

Okay, maybe he was a little on her side.

Javier nodded, “Done.”

“Good, what’s the address?”

Eva blinked, wondering what the fuck had just happened. She watched as Horacio listened to the address, grabbed her purse, and guided her out of the office.  It took her until they were on the road for her brain to finally catch up.

“Did you just negotiate a paid day off for me?”

He glanced over at her and smiled, “You need it. They’re working you too hard.”

“You’re one to talk about working too hard.”

This was true.  Even when he was supposed to be relaxed, his mind would still wander away to work periodically. She could by the way his eyes went just a little cold. There was nothing to be done about it. This was the toll the work took on a person, no matter how strong.

“Point taken,” he retorted, pulling into a parking lot.

The bar looked like any other, populated by locals, busy. She squinted at it, wondering how they got shipments in and out.

“Listen,” she said, reaching out to touch his forearm, “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I was frustrated that I keep getting pulled into these things, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it, “You’re fine. And, you should be frustrated because you’re right. You’re doing their leg work.”

Eva turned her gaze back to the bar, “I don’t actually mind doing a little reconnaissance, but I’m supposed to be spending time with someone I like, not warding off advances from drunk assholes while I try to figure out where the drugs are coming in at.”

Horacio’s grip on her hand tightened a fraction, “I think I can help with that.”

She looked at him, intrigued, “Yeah?”

He hummed in assent, turning her hand over and pressing his mouth the inside of her wrist. Eva felt her breath stutter as he kissed it gently, his eyes finding hers and holding. He rolled his tongue over the sensitive skin, tasting. Her breath stopped entirely. He gave her wrist another little kiss, then reached for her other hand. He was marking her and she was letting him. It surprised her how little that bothered her in that moment. She was even excited about the thought of carrying his scent with her into that bar. There wouldn’t be a single man in there, alpha or otherwise, who wouldn’t know she was with someone, despite the fact that she was clearly unmated.  

Eva shivered, her mouth parting on a soft moan. Unable to stand it a moment longer, she leaned over and kissed him. The position was a little awkward, the console digging into her hip, but well worth the discomfort.  She started to pull back and he stopped her.

Against her mouth, he said, “Half an hour.  After that, I’m coming in after you.”

Shaking her head, she teased, “Won’t that be a little suspicious, me coming in, looking around, and leaving with the police. You’re like a minor celebrity here, you know.”

He lifted a brow, “I’ll make it look like an arrest.”

At this she laughed, leaning back into the seat, “You just want to see if I can still get out of the cuffs.  Admit it.”

Releasing her, he regarded her with a curious gaze, “I admit that I really want to know how you learned to do it.”

Eva opened the door, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll never tell.”

She caught him saying ‘we’ll see about that’ as she shut the door and headed for the entrance. The place was pretty standard, as far as bars went.  There was a band playing, so she could count on almost everyone being at least a little distracted by the music.  At least, distracted enough not to notice that she wasn’t drinking and wasn’t dancing.  She made a circuit around the room, trying to think of how she would have hidden an illegal shipment back in the day.

It certainly wouldn’t have been at a bar. Josh had been against establishments like this, thought they were places for degenerates. Fifteen years later and she could finally roll her eyes at the hypocrisy of his entire personality. It felt like a big middle finger to even the memory of him to be frequenting bars—it was one of the first things she did when she was released.

But, where would she hide something she didn’t want to be found in a place like this.  Not behind the bar. Bartenders couldn’t always be trusted, too much turnover, too easy to buy. Not in the store room, too much traffic. Eva made another lap, pretending to be looking at the art on the walls. There had to be an office.

She went to the back and had to dodge one of the staff by stepping into the bathroom. So she had time to think, she went into one of the stalls and sat. The place looked clean, at least from the outside.  She couldn’t even find an entrance that would support a trailer backing up to it to move the goods. Although, it would be smart to access from underground...

Standing, she gave the toilet an unnecessary flush and left the bathroom, moving further down the hall. The office door was open a crack, and she took a moment to check to see if anyone was watching before she touched the door to open it further. Empty. Empty and boring.

With a huff, Eva stood next to the emergency exit and leaned against the wall, staring at a picture of a dog. Just an ordinary dog standing at attention. It looked...bland. Like it had been purchased at a big box store and hung without ceremony. Which, made her think it was odd.  The rest of the art in the place was from local artists, price tags written in neat handwriting beside each one.

The dog was looking at something out of the frame. Eva followed the direction of its snout to...a window. It was covered in a frosty film to obscure the outside. She stood on tip toes to see if she could see where it was pointing, both hands leaning into the sill—which moved.

Did everyone have a thing about hidden doors in this country?

Looking over her shoulder, Eva stepped inside.  She was not alone. The room was small, basically a cupboard, but it led to another room where a pair of men were talking. Talking and toking. The smell of weed was pungent enough that her nose wrinkled. Although Eva had been pretty well inured to pot while she was with Josh, she hadn’t had a moment that she didn’t feel watched by her superiors since she’d signed the contract. Any opportunity she had to partake was overshadowed by the possibility of a drug test. Every breath she took made her want to cough. She held it in before taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep her cover.

She couldn’t understand a word they were saying, but Eva was able to duck down enough that she could see inside the room they were talking in. They were sitting in lawn chairs, passing a blunt between them, the smoke billowing out towards her due to the fans that were running lazily nearby.

Eva squinted, they were...thawing ice.  Gigantic ice cubes sat on a table, little kiddie pools sitting below them to catch the runoff. She stared at them and almost laughed. They’d frozen the weed into ice cubes in an attempt to mask the smell. That was definitely new. She sat for a few minutes, trying to see if she could spot a company name that they were shipping under. She got nothing.

Knowing that she was on borrowed time, Eva backed up and peered out into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear before she stepped out of the little cupboard and closed the door behind her. She exited the bar in the least suspicious way she could manage, finally giving in to the urge to cough as she made it outside.

Across the parking lot, she could see that Carrillo was watching for her. With quick steps, she headed for him, climbing up into the truck.

“You see anything interesting?” he asked as she pulled the seat belt over her torso.

Eva nodded, “Let’s maybe get a few blocks from here before I start explaining.”

He turned the engine over, “Javier and Steve are not too far away.”

“Good,” she said, wondering why her eyes were so damn dry. “They can write up the report.”

Eva rubbed carefully at her eyes, trying not to disturb her mascara. She just felt...dry. Her eyes, her throat.

“You okay?”

She blinked, “Yeah, I’m okay. Allergies.”

He was right, Javier and Steve weren’t far away, a matter of a few blocks and one four way stop. They were sitting at an outdoor cafe, drinking beer. Eva took the one that was offered to her, drinking deep.  It was a moment before she realized that they were waiting for her to talk.

“Oh, right,” she said, setting the bottle down. “I mean, pretty simple operation. They’ve got a false door behind the window in the back by the picture of the dog.  They’re putting the product in ice to conceal the smell, although I don’t know that it would fool a trained dog. Back room is where they melt it down, probably where they weigh it, too.”

Javier stared at her, “That’s it.”

She frowned, “I’m sorry, has it escaped your notice that I’ve now found two caches of illegal substances? I know you were looking for coke and not pot, but ‘That’s it?’ Seriously?”

Even Eva could admit to herself that she was snapping at him, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. This would have been a perfect night for a date. A little balmy, warm enough that she didn’t need a jacket.  She could have gone to that bar to dance with Horacio, but no, she went to sneak around. The whole thing annoyed her.

Javier rolled his eyes, “Thank you.”

“That was really sincere. I appreciate the sincerity,” her tone was biting.

He frowned, “What is with you today?”

Eva breathed deep and dropped her head into her hands. Horacio’s scent was still there, a warm, sweet thing that mellowed her ire. She inhaled it in an attempt to distract herself.

“Nothing,” she said, eventually, “Just, forget about it.”

And, that seemed to satisfy him, if no one else at the table.  Steve was eyeing her with that curious expression he used when he wanted to ask a question, but wouldn’t. Beside her, Horacio laid a hand on her hip with just the slightest pressure. She leaned into it, grateful for the support.

“We could raid it tonight,” Javier said as he lit a cigarette.

Dear God, Eva thought with ire, I might as well go home now. Any hope she might have had of picking up their date was gone. At least she’d get to sleep with his scent wrapped around her, if not his body. He’d make sure she got home, kiss her goodnight, and then go off to raid a bar. She’d be a little lonely, but that stupid hope for a better tomorrow would be there. It would have been sad, except this same situation had happened once before, over and over when she’d been married—different players, same game—and Eva found that karma was certainly one hell of a bitch.

It said something for her state of mind that she didn’t realize she was laughing until her stomach started hurting. She drew in a breath, dropping her hands to the table.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she breathed, “I’ve just had the worst case of déjà vu.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, “You want to share with the class?”

Eva shook her head, “Nope.”

It was then that Eva knew something wasn’t right. She usually wasn’t this argumentative—stubborn, yes, but not outright argumentative. She had better manners than that—oh, fuck. Eva closed her eyes and tried not to freak out. It was just a tiny contact high. She could manage it—in front of a high ranking police officer and two DEA agents. This was doable. She kept her head down, just in case.

“You want to make the call?” Javier said when she didn’t elaborate.

Horacio shrugged, “I’m off tonight. It’ll be there tomorrow.”

Eva could tell by the way Javier’s eyes narrowed that this was an unusual response. Hell, she was even surprised by it. Her sense of karma evaporated as quickly as it came and she had to keep herself from staring open mouthed at him. Javier threw back the rest of his beer and stood, walking away without saying anything.

Steve rolled his eyes, “We’ll call you in the morning to work it out. Thanks, Eva.”

“No problem,” Eva called out, waving as she watched him walk off. Then, “I think you pissed him off.”

Horacio shrugged, “I’m not wrong. It will be there tomorrow.”

“I didn’t say you were wrong,” Eva replied, “But I am surprised by it.”

He helped her to stand, leading her back to the truck, “Which part?”

“Hmm?” She was distracted by the feeling of his hand guiding her to where he’d parked.

“Which part are you surprised by?”

She leaned against the side of the truck, looking him over, “You’re a get up and go kind of guy. You don’t put things off until tomorrow.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “You’re right, I don’t.” Then, he added, “In the interest of not putting things off, do you want to tell me what that was back there?”

Eva could feel the blush heat her cheeks, and she couldn’t keep her mouth from smiling stupidly. She looked down, trying to cover it.

“No,” he said, stepping forward and grasping her chin. “Don’t start doing that. Is it an inside thought?”

She giggled, “No. Its not an inside thought.”

“Then, what?” He caught her eye, saying her name in a slow, cajoling tone, “Tell me.”

Huffing, Eva bit down on the inside of her cheek, “They had a lot of pot in there. I mean, a metric fuck ton.”

She tried to go on, but found the explanation that formed in her mind to be too stupid, even internally. How was she supposed to verbalize it without it sounding equally stupid?

His pulled back a bit, analyzing her expression with half a smile, “I haven’t seen you this flustered since that meeting in the conference room. Its cute.”

“Oh, don’t call me cute,” Eva bit out, but she couldn’t maintain the facade of anger, devolving into little giggles as he looked at her in wonder. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

She inhaled, letting her head fall to his chest, her hands running down his arms to thread her fingers through his.

“Promise you won’t laugh.”

“I promise.”

“In the bar, while I was scoping out the back, I had to sit there for a few minutes. And… there was a lot of smoke.”

She hated the way her voice pitched upwards at the end of the sentence, as if it were a question. She hated even more that she couldn’t look at him when she said it.

It started with a blown out breath and then he was holding his breath for several beats.  Even with her forehead resting against him, she knew that he was working to hold off a laugh.

“I knew it,” she cried out, looking up at him, “I knew you would laugh. I have a contact high and you’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing,” he said as he definitely laughed.

“You are,” Eva shot back, crossing her arms.

He cupped her cheek, “Don’t pout.”

She tilted her face up when he drew her in for a kiss, arms wrapping around his middle to keep him close. He kissed her softly, and she could feel him trying not to smile into it. Feeling not a little vengeful, she nipped at him, soothing it just a little with a swipe of her tongue.

“Its late,” he said between kisses, “Let me take you home.”

Eva was grateful that she was leaned up against the truck, her balance a little off, which was par for the course whenever they kissed.  It was like as soon as their lips touched, she got a sudden rush of wild vertigo that made her dizzy in the best way. She hoped that feeling never faded. A stupid, unrelenting hope.

As they drove through the streets, she watched the buildings pass by, the wheels of her mind working.

“I can hear you thinking over there,” he said at a stoplight, looking over at her.

Eva ducked her head and blushed, “Yes, I’m thinking.”

“What about?”

The light turned green, but his eyes stayed on her and his foot remained on the brake.  She glanced behind them. The road was empty.

“Um,” she began, “I was thinking that sooner or later we should probably acknowledge the obvious.”

He turned a little, resting his forearm on the console, “What is that?”

“That I am an omega and that you are an alpha. That just about any time I spend with you drives me absolutely crazy.”

He observed her with a curious look in his eye, “Is this good or bad?”

She smiled, “Good, very good. At least I think so.”

He regarded her curiously, “Then, why would we need to acknowledge it.”

Eva leveled a sardonic look at him, “You marked me today, Horacio. You knew what you were doing when you did it.”

“I did.”

It relieved her that he wasn’t going to evade the conversation. She’d never done this before, and his straightforward attitude made her push forward despite the unsteadiness in her voice.

“I was brought up to believe that...meant something.”

She felt herself holding her breath a little. Eva had been out of society on and off since age fourteen, she hadn’t bothered to really learn the ins and outs of these kinds of relationships. She hadn’t thought she would need it.

The light turned yellow, then red.

“Is this the weed talking?”

Eva barked out a laugh, one hand coming up to cover her mouth, “No, no. It just got me thinking, that’s all.”

She’d given him an out, and part of her hoped that he would take it.  Another part of her hoped that he’d at least give her some idea of what this was.

“Eva, do you remember what I said when we met at the church? That I couldn’t breathe when I first met you?”

Nodding, Eva kept quiet, barely managing to quash the feeling bubbling up inside her. She needed a clear head for this, needed to make sure she didn’t allow herself to get carried away.

He licked his lips, his eyes searching her face, “Do you know what I also felt? When you were telling us about your husband? I felt rage. Sitting in front of me is the most delicious omega I’ve ever met and someone thought they could lay hands on her.” His hand flexed on the wheel, his scent sharpening. “And when you said you’d killed him for it, I thought to myself, ‘she doesn’t need protection’.”

The light turned green and he let off the brake, the car picking up acceleration.

“But, I wanted to give it to you, anyways.”

Eva searched for words, finding nothing.  She settled on, “Really?”

He nodded, reaching over to take her hand, “Then, you saved my ass in the bar fight.”

“I think that was more of a gunfight,” she commented, feeling warm all over.

“It was both,” he asserted, giving her hand a little squeeze, “You still kept me from getting shot.”

Eva scoffed, “I also threw a Molotov cocktail and set the place on fire.”

Horacio laughed, releasing her hand to pull into her neighborhood.  He took it back almost immediately, “That was inventive.”

She shrugged, “I wouldn’t have done it if I thought the table would hold.”

He rolled a shoulder, “That table was not going to hold. It was basically plywood.”

“You’re right,” she agreed as her apartment building came into view, “It was shit.”

He parked, got out, and circled to open the door for her. She tried not to smile too wide when he held her hand up to her door. She reached into her purse and pulled out her key, opening the lock.

“Do you,” she started, fortifying her courage, “Want to come in?”

He tilted her chin up, looking at her for a few seconds. Eva’s eyes narrowed in confusion before she scoffed, pulling her chin away.

“I’m fine. I was the smallest bit high for, like, fifteen minutes. I’ve got full control over my faculties.” A moment later, she amended, “Well, as much control as I ever do around you.”

When he didn’t answer, she touched his chest, “Listen, if you don’t want to, I understand.”

His hand came up and gripped her wrist, “I’ve told you before that you shouldn’t mistake restraint for a lack of want.”

“Okay,” she breathed, “So, are you going to follow through on that want?”

Horacio pushed her back into the apartment, closing the door behind him. She went willingly, dropped her bag to the side. She sighed into a welcome kiss, draping her arms over his shoulders.

Pulling away, he held up a finger, “One thing: I need you to let me lead. I’ll make sure you feel good, but let me set the pace.”

Lips parted, Eva felt a kind of fervent gratitude that quickly morphed into affection, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

He watched her for a second before he leaned down and kissed her again, their tongues tangling together. Eva felt her body go lax, most of her weight leaning into him. She let him lead her backwards, his hands pulling her close. The steps were small and slow, interspersed with deep, lazy kisses.

As they moved down the hall, he pulled her blouse up and out of her skirt, slipping his hands underneath. Eva groaned as he cupped her breasts over her bra, kneading the flesh. He was taking his time with her, his touches patient, thorough. It was driving her crazy.

Maneuvering her into the bedroom, Horacio finally pulled her blouse over her head, tossing it aside. He gripped her hips, eyeing her skirt.

“You’ve worn this skirt before,” he said raggedly, “I’ve had dreams about this skirt.”

Hands moving quickly, he pulled the zipper down and pushed the fabric to the floor. Eva, in an attempt to quell the little bit of nervousness that she was feeling, tugged at the polo he had tucked into his pants. She struggled to get it up and over his shoulders, too preoccupied with the way he was palming her ass. Taking pity on her, he reached behind him and pulled it up and over his head.

Oh, that is not fair, she thought, her mouth suddenly dry. The man dressed like a middle aged dad, halfway to a mid-life crisis—all khakis and variations of a polo shirt—and it was hiding such a strong, sensuous body.  Eva knew he was powerful, had felt the firm press of muscle when he held her, but dear God, he was gorgeous all over.

Helping her down to the bed, he knelt in front of the mattress, kissing up her stomach as his fingers unsnapped her bra. It went the way of her other clothing, followed by her panties.

“Lean back,” he said in a voice not much louder than a whisper.

She slowly let her weight fall to the bed as he parted her thighs. There wasn’t much light in the room, just what was filtered in from the open door to the hall and the streetlights from the window. But, in it, she could see him staring at her, tongue rolling over his bottom lip. More than a little self conscious, she tried to close her legs, eyes diverted.

Fingers tightening on her knees, his eyes flicked up to her, “No.”

A simple directive. An order from an alpha that Eva had no hope of disobeying.  Her hips opened and her legs fell to the side. If she wasn’t anticipating his next move so much, she might have had it in her to figure out a way to wipe the smirk off his face.

It faded soon enough. The first touch of his mouth on her shocked Eva so much that she jerked, her hips pulling back. Making a sound of displeasure, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to the end of the bed, hooking her legs over his shoulders. His hands pressed onto her stomach, holding her still as he laid his tongue flat against her, licking from bottom to top in one long stripe. Eva tried to calm her breathing, her fingers digging into the comforter below her. The heat of his mouth coupled with the confidence in every movement made for a heady combination.

Moaning lowly, he sucked each of her lips in turn, moving back and forth, tongue dipping inside before starting again. Over and over in slow, meticulous succession, until Eva was rolling her hips up, trying to get more friction. His thumb moved to circle her clit, rubbing around it, avoiding the tightest bundle of nerves.

She whined, carding her hand into his curls, trying to wordlessly urge him to give her more. He seemed to hear her—in the next second, he was pushing two fingers into her in one slow, careful thrust. Her breath caught in her throat, releasing on a high pitched moan when he shifted up and gave a firm suck to her clit. And then another. And another. Her eyes closed, losing all control over her body. Her heels dug into his back as she used as much leverage as she could to get closer.

Nose pushing into her pubic bone, Horacio added a third finger, the stretch burning despite how obscenely wet she was. Eva’s eyes rolled back, the orgasm clenching down on him hard. She cried out, a hoarse sound that he echoed as he buried his face deeper between her thighs, tongue rolling over her folds eagerly.

He eased her legs down, lightly massaging her thighs before he rose to lean over her.  Eva was still catching her breath when he kissed up the column of her throat and over to her scent gland, sucking gently on it. She gave a reedy moan, body curling up and around him.

He shushed her, easing her back down onto the bed. More kisses, a gentle massage against her folds that had her already simmering arousal making a slow ascent upwards once more. Needy and wanting more, Eva grabbed the back of his neck, arching her body into his. It was then that she realized he was still wearing the goddamned khakis. She pulled away, pushing her fingers beneath his belt buckle, pulling the leather through the bar and managing to get the it loose before he grabbed both of her hands.

“I told you that you needed to let me lead, Eva,” he grumbled, looking down at her with censure.

She bit her lip, fingers curling into little fists as she waited for...she didn’t know what. Would he stop?

Making a soft tsking sound, he pushed her hair from her face, “I’m going to get you ready, okay?”

Eva laughed softly, “I just came, Horacio. I think I’m ready.”

Shaking his head, he pulled one of her hands down, flattening her palm against the fly of his pants. She let him hold her there, curving her fingers over the shape of him. Her smile faded just a little as the mapped him. Although she might say that he was average in length, in width—well, fuck. Her body clenched as she thought about how tightly he would fill her up, how he might not even fit.

In a rush of determination, Eva slipped the button of his fly loose and pushed her hand down between his pants and underwear. He hissed as she gave him a slow, firm stroke. Her original assessment was correct, he would fill her absolutely to the brim. The thought intimidated her as much as it excited her.

Leaning down next to her ear, he asked, “Do you understand why I need to lead this?” His grip tightened ever so slightly, “I need to make sure you’re ready.”

He pushed her hand away, resting his weight on one arm so that he could open her back up to his touch.  Carefully, Horacio slipped two, then three, fingers inside her, spreading them to stretch her folds open. She groaned at the feeling, eyes closing. The gentle exploration quickly grew in intensity, his thumb giving a firm stroke to her clit with every thrust. Eva writhed in the sheets, unable to stay still. The feeling built upon itself, spiraling up and out of her. It was harder than the first, deeper in a way that had her gritting her teeth.

Sweat had pooled over her chest and hips, her heart hammering in her throat. She felt too wound up and boneless at the same time. His fingers slipped from her sopping folds as he shifted to the side. He placed little kisses over her skin, eyes looking over her body with something akin to pride.

“Good?”

She nodded, not quite able to speak, lips dry. As she gained some feeling back into her body, Eva rolled a little and hooked the fingers of one hand into his pants, tugging at them. He took her meaning and slipped them off leaving him in boxer briefs that were damp with precum. She kissed his chest, tracing the pad of her thumb over the crown of him. He only let her touch him for a short time, the muscles of his body tight with restraint. When she wriggled her hand inside to get at skin, he stopped her.

Holding both wrists down beside her head, Horacio rolled atop her, settling his hips between her thighs. Eva wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him sink as deep as possible to the cradle of her hips, a welcome weight.

He kissed her briefly, “Condom?”

Eva nodded, pointing to the nightstand. He was all perfunctory movements as he opened the drawer, pulled out the condom, shoved off the last of his clothing, and rolled it on. She was glad for it as it gave her an excellent view of him fully naked for the first time.

Wanting to touch him, she sat up and brushed her hands over his strong thighs, filing away the image of sitting atop them for later. He cupped the back of her neck, kissing her as he urged her to lay back, his body covering her.

“Slow,” he said between kisses, “We go slow.”

Eva was absolutely on board for that, still feeling a little timidity about the size of him. She hadn’t been with anyone since coming to her new assignment, so she knew she’d need a little time to adjust. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, Eva forced her body to relax.

“Slow,” he reiterated as he lined himself up.

The first push made her rethink her choices that night, and she couldn’t keep from closing her eyes against the burn. Fuck, but she wanted it. She tucked her chin into the curve of his neck, breathing long, slow breaths.

Groaning, Horacio adjusted his weight and pushed a little deeper. Just when Eva thought she couldn’t stretch any further, there was more of him easing inside. Though she tried to stop it, a little sound escaped her throat.

He stopped, lifting just a bit to check her expression, and she could see him working to make a decision, strain behind his eyes. Then, he pulled out and rolled over to his back.

“C’mere.”

Though she was still a little shaky, Eva crawled over him, straddling his hips. He helped her tilt up and then back down again. Using her hands on his chest for balance, she tried to let gravity ease her down. Despite how wet she was, she could only take a few inches before she had to stop and focus on her breathing.

“I don’t think I can,” she admitted after a few shallow thrusts.

He rose and wrapped his arms around her, “You can, you can.”

When she faltered, he buried his nose in her hair, cradling most of her weight and taking the motion from her. Up and down. Nice and easy. Just a little more every time. With every stroke, the burn eased just a little, until she was giving him tiny rolls of her hips, until tingles of sensation overcame the stretch of her body. Needing to, she kissed him, sighing into his mouth when she sank down so smoothly that the little gains that they had been making suddenly became one generous thrust.

Eva gasped, hips swiveling.

His eyes widened as he looked down at where they were joined, “Good?”

She nodded, “I’m good. So good.”

Another rise and fall, and she was gripping the back of his neck, widening her stance to take him all the way to the base where she ground down hard. He hissed, arms tightening so that there was not an inch of space between them. It stunted her movements, and Eva found herself wanting desperately to keep the steady rise of pleasure.

Small, but growing whimpers sounded from her lips, her body’s movements liquid and burning. She wanted more, and she wanted it now. Horacio’s hold on her kept the pace maddeningly slow, but so goddamn steady that it anchored her to him.

“I’m so full,” she bit out, her head dropping to his shoulder in near defeat, “You fill me up.”

Below her, he let out a harsh breath, followed by a sharp inhale and long, agonized groan. His hips pushed up hard, just once grinding into her before beginning that steady pace again, if only a little faster. She was glad he had some control because her mouth had started up and there was no hope that she was going to be able to stop it at this point.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside me,” she said on an exhale, her voice cracking.

He kissed her hard, bracing one hand against the mattress, to get more leverage, hips arching off the bed. The release of his hold gave Eva all she needed to begin meeting him in the middle. With a low whine, she angled her hips and drove down on him, her jaw loosening when he hit every spot inside her that made her squirm.

His forehead pressed against her, nose pressed into her cheek, Horacio swallowed audibly, saying, “Mmph—fuck, slow. Eva, slow.”

The words seemed forced out of him, his voice hoarse. Eva kept going, pulling away to get a good look at his face. His brows were drawn together, mouth open and wet, sweat on his temples.  He looked...fucking wrecked. She could see in that moment how hard he was trying not to come, and it made a shot of determination zing through her. He could have made that directive an order, could have asserted himself as the alpha, but he hadn’t. This gave her an opening that she was all too eager to take.

Kissing him, she pushed at his shoulders, following him down and slowing the drive of her hips.  She gave him sweet, lazy kisses until the tension in his body lessened enough that she felt confident he believed that she was listening to him. Then, she sat up, and called on the last remaining vestiges of her energy.

She started with slow undulations that ended with that little grind that he favored. But, Eva was not a patient woman, and she was soon riding him as she had been before. His hands flew to her hips, but he didn’t stop her. Just the opposite. He pulled her down to meet him, head thrown back to expose the strong column of his neck—a staccato ‘ah, ah, ah’ sounding each time their hips met.

Impossibly, he hardened further, until his grasp tightened to bruising and she felt him pulse inside her. He groaned in the back of his throat, eyes shut. Eva smiled down at him, thinking that he was gorgeous even when he was coming, especially when he was coming.

After a few more shallow thrusts, she eased off him and to the side, watching him catch his breath as hers returned to normal. Reaching down, he slipped off the condom, tying it off and leaning over the bed to toss it in a waste basket she kept nearby.

Eva didn’t touch him when he laid back down, though she wanted to. She wanted to lay her head on his chest and hear his heartbeat, curl up next to him while they dozed. A much stronger part of her kept her hands to herself, not knowing what he wanted.

Horacio leaned his weight on an elbow reached out to tucked her sweaty hair from her face. Charmed by the gesture, she turned and kissed his palm, holding it to her briefly before letting go. He shuffled closer, gathering her to his body, the backs of his fingers tracing one long line down the length of her.

On the upstroke, he slid them between her legs, brushing against her, “Are you hurt? Sore?”

She mentally reached out to her body, feeling for injury, “No, but I’ll probably be a little sore in the morning.”

After a few moments of silence, Horacio helped her stand and took her to the bathroom where he turned on the hot water. They showered a little awkwardly, the space too small for both of them. His hands never really left her, though, lingering over her body in a way that spiked a surprising return of her arousal. He laid kisses all over as he dried her off, haphazardly running the towel over his hair and body before tossing it aside.

When he laid her back down in the bed, he kept her near. Naked, warm, and clean, they laid together, talking about nothing at all. And, all the while, he would lean down and press a kiss here, a lick there, just skirting the edge of what she might consider seduction. And yet, her body began to respond as if he’d just started touching her. The fog of her exhaustion gave her a temporary reprieve, lifting just enough that she felt her thighs clench together—or, they would have, if he hadn’t kept his hand right where it was.

Pushing her to her back, Horacio shifted his arm beneath her neck, the other laying across her body, fingers running up and down her slit, circling at the top.

“You took me so well, Eva. I knew you could,” he murmured in her ear. “Made me come before I was ready.”

He alternated between focusing on her clit and rubbing sensuously over her opening. The touch was light, but focused enough that soon enough her hips were tilting up, searching for more stimulation.

“Are you going to come for me again?” He asked, heat lacing every word, “I think you’ve got another in you.”

Unbelievably, it appeared that she did, in fact, have another in her. Though he hadn’t penetrated her, Eva felt the orgasm build and pulse through her. Thighs jerking, she gasped against his mouth as he worked her through it.

With a low hum, Horacio slowed his touch, kissing down her jaw to her neck where he nuzzled against her. Though she’d been granted a short respite, Eva felt the need for sleep come crashing in. Eyes drooping, she shifted to her side and curled into his body.  She fell asleep to the feeling of him lazily tracing the contours of her shoulders and back.

[lostinfantasies38]

Ten Favorite Dialogues from 2020

I picked 10 dialogue exchanges that I loved from the stories I posted this year. A few of them are from the same stories, since I spent a good chunk of the year working on long fics instead of one shots or shorter stories. Under the cut bc they are lengthy.

I also realized that most of my zingers tend to be in my descriptions and don’t always make it into my character’s dialogue. I might have to change that. 

In no particular order:

1.

Dorian chuckled. “Honestly, you two are disgraceful. You can’t come to a club looking like sex on legs when you aren’t single. You’re going to give people a heart attack.”

“Jealous, Dorian?” Alistair needled.

“Insanely,” he replied smoothly. “Aside from myself and Zevran,”—he saluted the elf who shot him a saucy wink—“you’re the most attractive men here. And to add insult to injury, you’re together,” he sighed dramatically.

Accidental Alliance, a oneshot modern Cullistair AU 

2. 

“Step two of the pie liberation was to avoid suspicion of the adults.” Evan giggled at Connor’s phrasing and thought he heard Alex snort in amusement, too. “Zoe’s job was to act as a distraction, which wasn’t hard to accomplish because Cynthia decked her out in this frilly monstrosity that every woman within a five-mile radius oohed and aahed over. She fucking hated it, of course, but it worked in our favor for The Plan. And yes, those are honest to God capitals, babe. Think Mission Impossible: Thanksgiving 2010.”

“Alternate title: Pie Larceny,” Evan quipped, overjoyed by Connor’s rich laughter. Alex definitely chuckled at that.

“Yes! Oh my God, that’s amazing. I’m totally renaming it Pie Larceny.”

Save Me From Myself - part 3 of my DEH series, Connor Murphy/Evan Hansen

3.

“It makes me want to wrap you in blankets and bubble wrap and smother you with attention until you’re sick of looking at me, though.”

A broken laugh tumbled out of Evan’s mouth. “Well, there’s a mental picture. What are you gonna do? Roll me down the street?”

“I’m working out the logistics, but rolling you around does sound kinda fun,” Connor teased.

Snorting, Evan retorted, “I mean, you do have practice rolling joints. Guess a bundled up boyfriend isn’t much difference.”

Connor’s borderline hysterical laughter almost drowned out Evan’s airy chuckles. “Jesus Christ, Evan,” he wheezed, shakily wiping away tears. 

Save Me From Myself - part 3 of my DEH series, Connor Murphy/Evan Hansen 

4.

Returning his head to the shadows, he hissed, “Sister Agnes is milling around. I need a distraction so I can reach our room.”

Kai grinned and pulled a dehydrated pepper from his pocket. “Down the hatch.”

Gavin stopped him with a concern expression. “Are you sure about this?”

He snorted softly. “Please, I grew up eating these. My mum sends them because she knows I love them. They’re like candy. I’ll be shitting fire for a week, but they don’t hurt my mouth. I’ll burn hot and sweat like crazy though. Trust me, it’ll work.”

The redhead arched an eyebrow. “So you carry them in your pocket at all times?”

“No,” Kai answered irritably. “That’s why I needed Easton earlier. To act as a distraction for me so I could get it out of my room.”

Gavin sighed. “If you’re sure. I mean, we could brawl in the hallway, that would work, too.”

Alistair glanced around the corner. “Hurry up and choose. I’m not waiting forever.” Kai smirked and popped the pepper in his mouth.

“Well, that decides it,” Gavin groaned. Alistair tried not to laugh as over the course of a few minutes, Kai’s face visibly flushed in response to the spicy heat and sweat pooled under his hair, running in rivulets across his face.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Like you’ve got the sweat,” Gavin replied sardonically.

“Perfect,” he retorted. “Right, good luck, Alistair. If I fail to distract everyone, Gavin’s got you covered.”

Find Me Well Within Your Grace - young Cullistair prequel fic - excerpt from Ch 11 featuring a few of my OCs and Alistair 

5.

Wrapping his arms around her as she hummed at the stove, he said, “Sirra and Alistair either just left my apartment or she only now deigned to tell me they’re gone.”

Eowyn grinned wickedly at him, checking the clock on the dining room wall. “My, my! Four hours later! Scandalous.”

“I wish you could have seen them. The magnetism! It was instant.”

She giggled. “I saw the photos. That’s more of Alistair’s almost-O face than I ever want to see again, thanks very much.”

He snorted. “Fair enough.” After a pause, Zevran chuckled, “I give them a month.”

Rounding on him in horror, Eowyn stared at him with wide mossy eyes. “You just said they were perfect together! Do you think we made a mistake?”

“No, amore mio. I mean, I give them a month before they elope. I might have been party to their engagement shoot today.”

She blinked slowly as the giggles built until she was clutching the kitchen counter in a fit of uncontrolled mirth. “Okay, that may be accurate knowing Alistair!”

“I’m thinking of changing my business cards. Should I add ‘Matchmaker Extraordinaire’ or ‘Signor Soulmate’?” he asked cheekily.

Shot In The Dark - Sirra Brosca/Alistair modern AU oneshot [dialogue shown is between Zevran/OC]

6.

Cullen grinned with him. “Me either. Maybe we can improve your chess skills enough for you to graduate from mediocre.”

“Oh, ha ha. You and the others can have fun with that, thanks very much. Here I was hoping we could spend more time in bed,” he teased, sliding a hand into his curls.

Rolling his eyes playfully, the blonde retorted, “Of course, count on you to think how often we can sleep together instead of improving our skills.”

“That is how we improve our skills.”

“Training skills, you fiend.”

Heaving a melodramatic sigh, Alistair quipped, “Well, one of us has to be the boring one in the relationship. Glad it’s not me.” Cullen elbowed him gently in the ribs, chuckling along with his lover’s bright laughter.

Find Me Well Within Your Grace - young Cullistair prequel fic, excerpt from Ch 12 

7.

“You’re not worthless,” Alistair whispered. The breath she’d been holding passed her lips with a tiny mewl of surprise. Still unable to look at one other, Alistair kept his hand on her wrist and she resisted the urge to scoot further away.

Sirra murmured, “You don’t know me, Alistair. You can’t say that.”

“I can,” he insisted firmly, his fingers pressing just a bit harder on her flesh. “It doesn’t matter who you were. When you join the Grey Wardens, all that matters is who you are. I may not know who you used to be in Orzammar, but I have a pretty good idea who you are in the sun.”

Sun Touched - excerpt from Ch 4

8.

“I’m sorry, Alistair, I wanted to surprise you. Most dwarves in Orzammar, caste and casteless alike, have genital piercings. It’s cultural and unrelated to murder.”

His eyebrows climbed into his hair. “Even the men? How in the Maker’s name does that work?” Sirra opened her mouth to explain, but he hastily held up a hand and shivered. “Rhetorical question. Please do not answer that.”  

Sun Touched - excerpt from Ch 14

9.

“I love you, too,” she murmured, gracing him with a watery smile. “If I had known you were up here, I would have left Orzammar years ago and tracked you down,” Sirra mused, only half joking. 

“Oh, really?” he quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “I can just imagine you sneaking into the droll monastery and breaking me out. I would have assumed you were a figment of my imagination, a desire demon, or Maker-sent. Regardless, I doubt I could have resisted the mischievous glint in your eyes as you crept in to find me in my smalls, surrounded by thirty other recruits, and told me to run away with you.” 

Laughing, Sirra raked her short nails down his toned chest. “A naked teenage version of you? I would have taken you on the spot, letting the recruits feast their eyes on us, before dashing out the front door with your bare ass in tow.” 

He closed his eyes with a lusty moan, and swallowed hard, his voice strained when he replied. “Definitely Maker-sent then. To think, we could have been on the lam for the last few years, making mad love wherever we went.” 

Sighing melodramatically, Alistair smirked and playfully bopped the tip of her nose with his. “Ah, well, at least I have you now and that’s all that matters.”

Sun Touched - excerpt from Ch 17

10.

“Stop it,” Morrigan mumbled irritably.

Alistair feigned innocence. “Stop what? I’m sitting here like a good patient. I wasn’t even talking until right now.”

Yellow eyes bored into hazel as the subtle light faded around them, his shoulder apparently healed. “You know very well what. Stop staring at my hands. ‘Tis most distracting.”

“And here I thought it was my hands distracting you during the fight,” he smirked. “Not where my eyes happened to land. How could you have known that I might have been paying attention, if you weren’t observing me, too, hmm?”

Scoffing, Morrigan took a large step back and crossed her arms haughtily over her chest. “You are insufferable.”

Sheathing his sword, Alistair shrugged with affected boredom. “I may be insufferable, Morrigan, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Deny it all you want, but we both know the truth.” 

Snagging his shield from where it fell on the ground, he slung it over his back and murmured for her ears alone. “Besides, for a cranky witch who grew up in a swamp, they’re surprisingly soft and gentle… when they want to be, that is.” 

You Give Me That Lovin’ Feelin’ - ch 2. Part 1 of 3 of Morristair written for @scharoux 14 Days of DA Lovers 

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

Heat in the rain pt. 1

Description: Y/N lost a lot of things in the war, and when she’s forced to leave her childhood home she heads to the first place she can think of: The flat of Fred and George Weasley, so what if she hasn’t spoken to her best friends in months, if they can’t help her now, then what are friends for? 

Pairings: Eventual George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Brief mentionings of death, injuries, eventual angst. 

Word count: 2104 

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 final |  

(This is my first imagine for the Weasley twins, I hope you enjoy it, be sure to keep an eye out for the next chapter! xxx) 

George Weasley finished up closing the shop at about six o’clock pm on a Friday night. He ascended the stairs leading up to his and Fred’s apartment slowly, already loosening his tie, exhausted from another week of sales. He loved his business (which wasn’t hard to do, considering how well it was going) but he had to admit that it had been hard coming out on the other side of war only to waltz into a joke shop and sell people laughs for a living. This he’d never say out loud, not wanting to sound ungrateful, his job was, after all, a pretty easy one; he was literally living his dream. 

Opening the door to the apartment he stepped inside, stepped out of his shoes and shrug off his suit jacket. Walking into the kitchen he was met by his twin, who had gone upstairs ten minutes earlier, standing in the kitchen, and opened beer beside him as he was reading a letter, which he held in his right hand, whilst his left swung his wand lazily, making pots and pans fly around behind him, with a small flick of the wand, a knife floated towards a cutting board with vegetables on it, where it started chopping away. 

“Hey,” George said simply, as he went past the kitchen and into his bedroom on the right side of the apartment, hanging up his jacket in his closet and beginning to change into some more comfortable clothes as Fred yelled a ‘hi’ back at him from the kitchen, from where the unmistakable sound of fried garlic and onion was seeping into George’s bedroom. After pulling a sweater over his head, he stretched his neck, noticing how his muscles in his shoulders tensed in protest. He went into the kitchen and found himself a beer, feeling he deserved it as it was Friday and since he was exhausted. As he opened the bottle, Fred put down the parchment and picked his own bottle up and took a swig of it, still eyeing the letter. 

“Who’s that from?” George asked, sitting himself down on one of the barstools they’d put at the other side of the kitchen counter, 

“Mum,” Said Fred, “She’s asking us if we’re coming to spend Christmas at the Burrow,” He smiled, “As if we have any choice,” He added, chuckling a little, “Charlie apparently said he’d be there, so did Bill, Fleur and Percy, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ron and co. showed up as well either.” He said, George glanced at the parchment noting how much was written on it, there was a second page below it, “And she decided to ask us in every language or what?” He asked, nodding at the letter, Fred glanced down at it as well then broke out into a snicker, “No, the rest is her being way too worried about my leg, honestly, she’s acting as if it will just fall right off any second!” He said, George finished taking a sip from his bottle then asked: “How is your leg?” 

Fred spread out his arms a little and stepped away from the counter, “Well right now it’s going pretty great if I’m being honest,” He said, “Reckon I’ll be ready to get rid of the old walking stick by new year’s.” He picked up the walking stick, which had been leaning on the counter beside him, 

“You know, maybe mum’s right to be worried about you,” George began a little hesitantly, “You did go back to work really soon, and you’re not exactly one to take breaks once you’re working,” 

Fred’s smile broadened a little, “I appreciate the nurturing advice, mate, but you’re honestly beginning to sound like Hermione,” 

“All I’m saying is that it’s better that you take extra care now, so you won’t have to continue caring for the rest of your life, Fred,” George said, putting down his beer on the counter, “If you’d gotten out of that explosion with a twisted ankle then yeah, there would be no need to be cautious but if it hadn’t been for Percy pushing you out the way you would be lucky if you’d even had a leg by now-” 

Fred looked like he was about to say something, but was interrupted when a rapid knocking could be heard on the door, looking back at his twin, the two men stared at each other, as if trying to figure out if the other had invited guests without telling the other, when neither of them explained they looked back to the door, where another set of hard knocks could be heard. 

*** 

You’d gone to the first place that came to mind, walking hastily through the thick downpour, you’d headed down Diagon Alley, bee-lining towards the unmistakable facade of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. 

You had had the longest week imaginable, no, the longest five months. You’d lost your parents in the war, strike one, then you’d nearly gotten yourself recklessly killed in the battle of Hogwarts, spent two weeks recovering in st. Mungo’s where you’d done nothing more than mourn the loss of the classmates and friends you’d lost, strike two, then your best friends had slowly but surely drifted away from you, the twins who used to be inseparable from you had first gone days, then weeks, then months without even writing to you, and you, being buried in paperwork after the death of your parents had been to busy to try and contact them, strike three. And so it had continued, another horrible thing after another came raining down upon you, and now, what seemed like strike one thousand had hit you, you’d been booted from your childhood home, not that you’d expected to be able to keep it, as you had no job and little to no inheritance from your parents, but when you’d been given the two week notice you’d panicked, you’d taken all your most important belongings, contacted the ministry and told them they were free to sell the rest and bolted. 

Was it a rational thing to do? No, but it had been a very long time since you’d been rational. Perhaps it was just because you were already swimming in a pool of self-loathing but the extreme rain that had hit you as you’d excited your, now former, home had felt like a teeny tiny strike one-thousand-and-one. So naturally, you were about as exhausted as a human could be when you reached the shop belonging to the two redheaded twins. You stopped outside the door leading up to the apartment. A small pang of uncertainty hit you; what exactly were you doing? You hadn’t spoken to either of them in what seemed like forever, maybe there was a reason for that? maybe they didn’t want to see you? Your hand, which had been outstretched towards the green door handle, fell to your side as a feeling of foolishness washed over you, rain trickled down your cheeks and nose as you stood in the darkness, unsure if you ever wanted to go inside, then a lightning struck down only twenty or so metres down the street from you, followed by a deafening bang. You shrieked in shock and quickly entered the hallway, bolting up the stairs in a cascade of murmured ‘nope’s. Screw if you hadn’t seen the twins in months, they had been your best friends since your fourth year and you needed their help, whether they knew it or not. 

“besides,” You murmured to yourself as you reached the top of the stairs and stood outside the front door, “What kind of best friends don’t even write to ask how you are after your parents die?” 

*** 

Fred and George approached the door with a sliver of uncertainty in their step, 

“Who on earth comes knocking uninvited?” Fred asked in a low voice, beer still in his hand, 

“Maybe it’s someone trying to break in?” 

“Nonsense, why would a thief try to knock on the door before breaking in?” 

“I read it in one of those articles mum send us, y’know, the one with the ten handy things to know about home security when you’re a first time owner?” 

“Seriously, George, I’m starting to worry that you and Hermione may have switched bodies accidentally.” 

And with that, Fred unlocked the door and swung it open, revealing an absolutely drenched Y/n. Blinking, the twins stared at their old friend without saying anything for a while. Y/n, too scared of how the twins might react, refrained from saying anything either, 

“Y/n,” George started, his mouth slightly ajar in shock, “You look absolutely,”

“Frozen!” Fred finished his brother’s sentence and opened the door a bit more, 

“Come in before you flood the stairway,” he said. 

“Thanks,” Y/n said, stepping inside, dripping, “sorry,” she added, when she looked at the drops hitting the floor. Arms crossed, she stood there in the entrance, shivering and looking on the verge of tears, George felt a surge of empathy fill his insides, and as he caught his twin’s eyes he knew Fred felt the same, 

“You just wait here a moment,” Fred said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I’ll get you a towel.” He gave your shoulder a quick squeeze before he disappeared further into the flat. There was a small moment of silence between you and George, 

“It’s uh- really good to see you,” George uttered finally, shifting his weight, “It’s been,” He haltered as he counted in his mind, embarrassed when he couldn’t place the last time he’d seen you face to face, 

“Five months?” You said, teeth clappering, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile when his eyes widened but he didn’t get to say anymore because Fred returned, handing you a small towel, he stepped behind you and wrapped a larger towel around your shoulders, 

“What are you doing here at this hour?” Fred asked, rubbing your arms to warm you up, the comforting touch from your best friend and thinking about your past few months you started to well up, and before you knew it you were bawling, explaining in between sobs about everything that had happened to you, the twins had shared a worried look as you broke into tears and had quickly moved to sit you down on their couch, 

“Ah-and n-now I have no home, no jo-ob and no parents!” You sobbed, hiding your face with one hand, using the other hand to hold onto the towel, 

“And my best-f-friends won’t even write to me anymo-mo-more!” You added, letting out another sob, Fred and George shared a rather guilty look, 

“We’re really sorry Y/n,” George said, as you continued to cry, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear before placing his hand on your shoulder, Fred copied him: “Yeah, we’ve been a pair of right foul gits,” He said, something in his chest twisted uncomfortably as you didn’t answer, just made a small sound as you nodded, still hiding your face in your hand, 

“But I promise that we didn’t think about it, we would’ve written to you, but it’s been so busy since we re-opened,” Fred tried, 

“That’s n-not an excuse,” You said, wiping your face and meeting his chocolate coloured eyes, he took your hand, “I know that,” he said, you looked down, there was no point being angry, 

“I know.” 

Silence filled the flat, only the sound of rain hitting the windows and your sniffles could be heard. 

“Listen, I’m really sorry to be bursting like this,” You started, 

“Don’t worry about it,” George cut you off, “We’d much rather you burst in here, than stay out in the pouring rain, right Fred?” He said, looking at his twin, who nodded, “Absolutely, besides, letting you crash here is the least we can do, seeing as we’ve accidentally abandoned you,” He chuckled a little, and his laugh was contagious as always, you smiled a little, 

“You don’t have any clothes I could borrow, do you?” you asked, “My clothes are still sort of,” You paused, “Wet.” You chuckled, Fred and George both grinned, “Say no more,” Fred said, standing up, George following suit, “Wait here!” George said before they both scattered into their rooms to find you some clothes to wear, picking out their warmest sweaters and softest sweatpants, whilst you sat there in their warm flat, the smell of food enrobing you, you noticed. Smiling to yourself, you thought to yourself how easy it was to talk to the twins even after months of silence. 

[captainmeowvelwrites]

You Times Two (Ch.9)

Pairing: Marinette/Ladybug | Adrien/Chat Noir Words: 4345 Summary: Ladybug knew this was necessary. She was the Guardian. He had the Cat Miraculous. But when his suit evaporated in a glow of pale green, she sure hadn’t expected him to have something far more precious: her heart. Cross-posted: AO3 and FFN

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | ...

Recap: Previously, on You Times Two… Maribug was a bit of a depresso espresso, what with the impending Adrigami date and fifth wheeling her friends. That is, until our favourite dude cheered her up with pizza, turtle talk and some good ol’ Mario Kart. Of course, her kitty-cat’s banana puns might’ve helped a smidge. But will dustings of Adrigami continue to throw her off? And when Chilluka rocks up, will Jealadrien be far behind?

---

Chapter Nine

An hour after Adrien's slippery ascent to victory, they turned to Ultimate Mecha Strike III for some more hearty butt-whooping.

With one final zap of an energy beam, the words "KAGAMI WINS" flashed across the screen, and her crimson mecha-tank launched a clawed fist in the air.

"Aw maaan!" Nino dumped his controller on the coffee table. "How could I lose to a total noob?" He froze. "Uh – No offence! You did good, dudette – I mean Kagami!"

Alya clutched her stomach, her cheeks red from laughing. "Nice one, Kagami! You – You really got him good with that – ah – that triple kick hyperstorm combo!"

"Yeah, Kagami!" Adrien nudged her shoulder with his own. "Only your third game and already you're winning!"

Marinette gave a thumbs up. "You're a natural."

Kagami threaded a strand of hair behind her ear, the slightest of blushes grazing her cheeks. "Thank you, everyone. I couldn't have won without Marinette's expert teaching." She bowed her head, her mouth curving into a smile that simply looked like it belonged there.

That small fact made Marinette's own smile double in size.

"But, dudes, I'm sick of UMS."

Alya tapped down the brim of Nino's precious cap. "You're just sick of losing, babe."

Pouting, he straightened his hat. "That's not the point, Al." He bounced to his feet, eyes on Adrien. "Why don't we fire up Just Dance instead? Let's show 'em our swagger!"

Adrien's face practically glowed as he leapt from the sofa, Kagami's hands falling from his arm to her lap. "You're on, Nino!"

"Ha!" Nino flashed his signature finger guns. "On like Donkey Kong!"

With an overly dramatic scoff, Adrien placed a hand to his chest in a decidedly Chat Noir fashion. "Excuse me? Only I have the rights to that line… especially after my ape overthrew our princess." He sent Marinette an over the shoulder wink and naturally, a flush flamed across her face.

While Nino set up Just Dance, Adrien shrugged out of his blazer in one fluid movement and flicked it over the sofa with a ridiculous amount of flair. He rolled his neck, laced his fingers and stretched his arms out before him. Pair that with the fact his polished shoes, snug jeans, and long-sleeved dress shirt were all black and wow, he was but a tail away from his alter ego. The only thing missing was a poorly timed pun. The flush across her face deepened.

Adrien strutted up to the TV. Umber drapes framed the wide balcony doors to his left, swaying with the wind that weaved through the living room to fan his golden hair. With his eyes on the screen, he raised a thoughtful hand to his chin. His fingers were soaked in sunlight, its rays catching his ring at just the right angle to inspire a shine of silver. Buzzfeed had once dubbed this particular pose The Pondering Prince. It was easy to see why on a rainy day. And even easier when sunbeams spilled across his hair like a literal crown of sunshine.

Marinette wasn't staring.

Nope, not at all.

The choruses of classic pop songs cut through the air as Nino cycled through choreographies. She knew the moment a song stood out to Adrien, by the way The Pondering Prince transformed into The Keen Cutie.

An annoyingly catchy melody sprung through the speakers:

'Take me by the tongue and I'll know you. Uh! Kiss me 'til you're drunk and I'll show you—'

The boys exchanged an eager high five, while Marinette bit back a snort. Chat Noir choosing Moves Like Jagger?

"Only you would, Adrien. Silly ca—" Her mouth snapped shut, but his merry eyes were already on her. She went ramrod straight in her seat. "Ca – Can't be used to describe you row—I mean now – no, right now." She shook her head madly. "Or – uh – any time, really. Because you're so great. At moving. With your feet!"

Adrien stared at her. She could almost see the cogwheels turning in his eyes. Hopefully those cogwheels had nothing to do with her slip up and everything to do with interpreting her word vomit. Finally, he graced her with one of his classic, heart-warming smiles. "Thank you, Marinette!"

She threw two thumbs up. "Well done! I mean, welcome!"

To her right, she could just feel concerned eyes on her.

And to her left, Alya facepalmed.

Adrien's soft smile lingered on Marinette for a moment longer, before a "Ready, bro?" brought his attention back to the TV. She sucked in a breath.

That smile. That classic Adrien smile. It was a gentle, shy sort of smile. One that made you feel special. Chat Noir's smile, on the other hand, was silly, cheeky, at times flirty—and had prompted her to groan on several occasions. Totally different, right?

But they were the same person! As classmates, she could probably count the amount of coherent conversations she'd had with him on her hands. But as partners, they were closer than ever. She'd thought of him as one of her dearest friends long before learning his civilian identity. Now, an unpleasant question reared its awful head. Were his smiles wildly different? Or just her reactions to them?

Alya's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Daaang!" she called, flaunting a smirk. "You boys are pulling out all the stops today. Where've you been hiding those dance moves, Adrien?"

Marinette looked up at the boy in question and saw her friend, Adrien, dancing with the unbridled joy of her partner, Chat Noir.

And Alya's words must've emboldened him, for he broke away from the choreography with a suave spin on the spot. "Come on, Al. You don't actually think I spent home-school doing schoolwork, do you?" As Maroon 5 whistled on, he executed each move with a flawless flourish. To think, this was the same guy who high-fived street signs with his face.

Alya snickered. "Not bad, Blondie. Not bad at all!"

With an achingly familiar bow, he enacted the tipping of a fake top hat. A silent thank you. One with the pizzazz befitting of her partner.

His theatrics brought out a giggle. She'd seen her silly kitty cut a rug, as he liked to call it, more times than she cared to count. On quiet patrols. In the heat of battle. A few months ago, an amateur video of his dancing had even trended online (he'd reminded her for over a week). His timing was never impeccable, but as they'd grown closer, stifling a smile at his zest for interpretive movement had become increasingly tricky.

"Yes!" Nino wheezed, flinging his arm in time with the dancing avatar on the screen. "I'm catching up!" He was so out of breath. "Keep distracting him!"

"Oh Adrien," her bestie proclaimed, as he moonwalked like a professional zombie from Thriller. "Our dazzling King of Swag!" He held a hand to his ear, spurring her on. "Your flow knows no bounds. I must bow before such unrivalled finesse." True to her word, she bowed in her seat.

And boy, did he lap up the praise! He performed a ridiculously smooth body roll, and concluded it with a click of his fingers. His smile was nearly blinding.

That was all the motivation Marinette needed to pop in her own compliment. "In the not so distant future, bards shall sing of our swagtabulous leader's epic freestyling, and their song shall aptly be named Moves Like Swagdrien!"

Just when she'd thought he couldn't shine any brighter, a laugh burst from his lips. It was one she seldom heard without his mask and the fact she'd brought it out only swelled her sprinting heartbeat.

His next move involved a little hip swaying and a lot of arm swinging. Marinette had only played Fortnite a handful of times, but she had a sneaking suspicion she'd once witnessed it there.

"Keep going, ladies!" Nino implored. "I'm finally winning!"

"Yaaas!" Alya called. "Swagdrien The Suave!"

"Woo!" Marinette launched her fists in the air. "Swagdrien The Debonair!"

"Adrien," Kagami cut in, her puzzled tone stark against the laughter of her friends. "You aren't following the choreography?"

"Rules," he panted, "are made to be broken." As if to emphasise his point, he pulled a double arm wave.

Her brows scrunched. "But you're losing?"

Adrien, now mid-robot, incorporated a shrug into his dance. "This way's more fun"—he threw her a smile—"don't you think?"

His dancing didn't die down in the slightest, nor did the laughter that ensued in its wake.

---

Marinette, like most people, enjoyed bobbing along to Despacito at the best of times.

But this wasn't the best of times.

No, it was the worst. The absolute worst.

More good-natured trash-talking had led to Nino challenging Adrien to a dance-off. But not just any dance-off. No, a double couple dance off (read: everyone but her).

Furthermore, the universe was really testing her limits today—because Despacito's choreography was jam-packed with touching between partners. Sure, Kagami was rather stiff. She'd never played Just Dance before, but Adrien's skills more than made up for that. His hands nestled on her hips, their smiles broad and their bodies close as they moved to the beat.

She tried to smile. She tried to be happy for them. This was what they both wanted. Inserting herself between them – like matter between two magnets – would only be selfish. Even so, she couldn't deny the way her gut writhed at the sight of the happy almost-couple. And she couldn't help but notice Kagami's growing blush.

A distraction.

She needed a distraction.

As if some higher being had honed in on her thoughts, three knocks echoed throughout the apartment. Knuckles on wood had never sounded so wonderful!

Marinette jumped from the sofa. "I'll get it!"

Finally, she'd no longer be the fifth wheel to a quad bike. No, with Luka here, she'd instead be a part of some strange, six-wheeled hybrid. Much more appealing. She raced to the front door and swung it open.

Teal eyes smiled down at her, and their owner gave a little wave, black nail polish shining in the light of the stairwell.

"Luka!" She sprung a hug upon him and without hesitation, he returned it. The exchange only lasted two seconds – three tops – but by gosh, the rich scent of sandalwood delighted her senses long after. "So, how was your shift?"

"Oh, it couldn't end fast enough."

Truer words had never been spoken.

Marinette took his free hand in hers and guided him to the living room. The two couples were still dancing up a storm, guitar chords and Spanish lyrics echoing through the room. "Hey, I see you brought your guitar." She beamed up at him. "You'll have to play us something later. I'd really love to hear my song again!"

From the corner of her eye, Adrien stumbled mid-step.

"I saw that, Blondie!" cackled Alya, her hand in Nino's as they grooved from side to side. "You burning out?"

"Never!" He broke away from the choreography and Kagami quirked a brow as he puffed his chest out into a body roll, even more fluid than his first.

Luka slipped a guitar case off of his shoulders and against the sofa. "Hey, everyone!" He was answered by an array of breathless greetings. "Oh, right." He chuckled. "They're just dancing."

Marinetted laughed—

Until she realised the wordplay wasn't intentional.

"Wow!" Luka chimed, settling on the sofa. "Nice moves, Adrien."

Green eyes remained on the screen. "Thanks."

Marinette swiped the pizza box from the table, four pieces saved within it. "As promised, Luka!" Handing over the box, she sat beside him. "If you're not a cold pizza kinda guy, I can always heat it up for you?"

With a slice of pizza in hand, his free arm reached behind her, resting across the back of the sofa. "It's okay, Marinette. I'm perfectly fine with cold pizza." His eyes were as gentle as his smile. "The thought's appreciated though. Thank you."

A flush crept up her face as he looked at her, but she didn't mind. Not at all.

---

'We are one tonight, and we're breathing in the same air—'

With an easy smile, Marinette tapped her toes in time to the lively tempo of Turn Up The Love. To no one's surprise, Alya and Nino were nailing every move thrown their way—and fast approaching new high scores.

"Wow," Luka spoke up beside her, and her eyes flitted toward him. "They're so in tune, don't you think?"

Marinette gave a merry nod, recalling a time she'd said similar words to a certain blond.

She leant against the coffee table, smiling at the sight of her dancing friends. "They're so in sync with each other."

"You're right," Adrien said, from the other end of a FaceTime call. "Someday I hope I'll find someone I can share everything with… like they do."

In the present, she pursed her lips. Had Adrien been thinking of Ladybug then? Her eyes drifted toward the boy in question, only to catch his eyes zipping away that very second.

"Too right, Luka!" Adrien leaped into their conversation—and winced when his voice shot up an octave. Clearing his throat, he directed a smile at the dancing duo. "When's the wedding, guys?"

Alya skipped around Nino, her arms swinging to the beat. "We don't know the date just yet."

"But don't worry," Nino puffed. "You'll definitely be my best dude!"

"They're only fourteen, Adrien." Kagami tilted her head, her dark hair shifting. "How young do you plan to get married?"

Beside her, Marinette felt him tense. "Oh – I – Ye-ah." His voice cracked. "Fourteen's way too young! The legal age is – uh – eighteen, right?"

"You plan to be married at eighteen?"

"Err – Well, I don't – I don't know?" He squeezed out a laugh. "I mean, maybe. For the right girl?"

"Does that mean you'd marry the wrong girl if you were older?"

"No, I just—"

"Your indecision is troubling, Adrien."

Those words seemed to resonate with him. He shrunk into the sofa like a silent apology.

Marinette's nails dug dents into her palms—but Kagami didn't deserve her ire. She wasn't exactly well-acquainted with social cues. Heck, she probably didn't even realise what she was doing.

Flexing her paling fingers, Marinette turned to Luka, a wordless plea to fix this. She didn't trust herself to.

And he didn't disappoint.

"Hey, Marinette?" Both fencers looked his way. "Has anyone else tried your macarons yet?"

Adrien clung to those words. "I saw the carton on the bench, but I didn't want to be the first one to crack into them!" With a sheepish chuckle, he dipped a hand behind his neck. "I figured we were saving them for later in the day?"

If he didn't get his passionfruit macaron today, Marinette would scream to high heaven. "No no, Adrien!" She waved her hands for emphasis. "Feel free to help yourself. No, actually—"

She launched to her feet.

He did the same.

"—I'll bring them over," they said in unison. Blinking at each other, they laughed at once. "Sorry," they said. "I – Uh. You go first! No, you—"

Marinette held up a hand. "I'll bring the napkins. You bring the macarons. Deal?"

"Deal!"

---

A minute later, Alya and Nino collapsed onto the sofa, their chests heaving after their dance. To his delight, Nino had come out on top, destroying his former high score along with Alya's. (Not at all suspiciously, Alya had matched him point-for-point until the last thirty seconds, when her dancing had deteriorated just enough to let him win.)

A cardboard carton, with a golden emblem adorning its lid, rattled in Marinette's palms. While Adrien shared napkins around, she plonked down beside Luka. "I hope all this dancing's worked up everyone's appetite!"

Alya accepted a napkin. "By the grin on Adrien's face, I'd say his answer is a resounding yes."

"Can't blame him, babe. Those moves were unreal."

"It must be the fencing."

"From what I saw, he was a one-man sonata."

"Or a unicorn."

"Girl, did you just call Adrien a unicorn?"

Marinette nodded, unabashed. She was trying to get over him, yes. That didn't mean he wasn't still one of a kind.

With all leftover napkins now on the coffee table, Adrien resumed his seat between Marinette and Kagami. "Full disclosure: I'd make a magnificent unicorn."

Laughter erupted.

And only as it died down did Marinette speak again. "In that case, I sure hope unicorns like macarons!" She flipped back the carton in her lap, revealing an assortment of brown and yellow treats. "We've got two flavours: Belgian chocolate and passionfruit. I would've made more, but I was a little short on time."

"I'll believe it," Alya teased.

She stuck out her tongue. "Just a heads up, everyone—"

From the corner of her eye, Kagami reached for Adrien's hand and threaded it with her own. His smile wavered. He went to pull back, but Kagami tightened her grip—without realising? Adrien's struggling stopped.

"Yike—"

Marinette glimpsed a stern look from Alya.

"I mean LIKE! Yeah. I was, like, extra clumsy this morning and – err – dropped the macarons on this side." She jabbed a finger toward the left of the carton. "So – Um. Sorry about that."

Hands reached from all sides, lightening the carton in her hands, and delighted hums soon floated through the living room.

"Girl, you've really outdone yourself this time!"

"Ditto, babe!"

"I agree." Kagami admired the yellow, half-eaten macaron between her fingers. Her other hand still gripped Adrien's. "This is really delicious."

Adrien's face inched near as he marvelled at the macarons. "You made these, Marinette?" She thought she felt herself nod. "They look delicious!" He took one from the tainted side. Passionfruit, of course. His first bite— "Wow." He gazed at the treat like it was the answer to world peace. "Marinette, this macaron. It's… It's perfect!"

She felt herself beam as he savoured a second bite. This beautiful moment was most definitely worth the many Sundays she'd spent baking a single macaron.

In or out of the suit. Chat Noir or Adrien. He was her friend. Maybe she'd never see those three kids or that hamster. Maybe she'd never have that dog or that beautiful house. At least, not with Adrien.

Because they were superheroes.

Because of apocalyptic cataclysms.

Because he said he loved Ladybug, but in the end, he chose Kagami.

But she could still make him happy.

Luka reached for a treat last. His side pressed into hers as he leaned closer and picked a chocolate macaron. Like this morning, he went for the street-sullied side. With his free arm splayed behind her, he settled back into the couch cushions and savoured the snack with his eyes shut. "This flavour's even better! You're so extraordinary, Marinette."

Cheeks aflame, Marinette brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Extraordinary.

Luka said she was extraordinary.

And it wasn't the first time. No, the first time he'd been under Hawk Moth's cruel influence. And she tried not to take a supervillain's words to heart.

But then he'd said it again, his hand warm on her arm and his eyes warmer still.

"You're the most extraordinary girl, Marinette. As clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. You're the music that's been playing inside my head since the first day we met."

Was it time to tune along to his song?

Marinette swallowed, searching for a reply to the wonderful words of her friends. Instead, she caught the green gaze of another boy watching her fondly.

A lump lodged in her throat.

From the day she'd met him, her heart had been his.

But he didn't want his classmate.

From the day she'd met Luka, she'd been the song inside his head.

He made sure she knew where they stood.

He supported her every decision.

He made things simple.

The logical choice was clear.

Yet her heart throbbed at the thought.

No matter what, someone was bound to get hurt. Her friend. Her partner. Herself.

For over a year, she'd saved Paris with quick-thinking and convoluted strategies. She was the girl with a plan, the one people came to when times were tough. Yet here she was, unable to think up a single way to save her and her loved ones from heartbreak.

Why was she so useless?

Why couldn't she just keep everyone happy?

How could she possibly choose between them?

"Earth to Marinette?" Alya interrupted her thoughts. "Guys! I think we broke her with compliments!"

"No! Sorry, I just—" Marinette placed a hand to her chest and drew in a breath. "Thank you, everyone." She meant that wholeheartedly, and turned to Alya with a smile. "Wanna get back to dancing?"

"You know it!"

---

'Starships were meant to fly! Hands up and touch the sky!'

Of course, Alya had picked an old favourite of theirs: Starships by Nicki Minaj. A bop that never failed to bump up her mood. She knew the choreography well, but was still surprised by her soaring score. Her every move displayed a grace she'd never thought possible without a little latex magic, and over and over, the word "PERFECT" flashed gold on the screen. It was like the game was a one-word dictionary, but she sure wasn't complaining.

"Oh my gosh, M!" Alya puffed. "You are killing it!"

"Call me Swagrinette!"

Adrien laughed from his place on the sofa. "I don't think Swagrinette has quite the same ring to it." She threw a smile over her shoulder—just as Kagami eased her head onto his.

Marinette misstepped, but caught herself before the floor could. "Oops!" She wheezed out a laugh. "Spoke too soon, Al." Her arms circled through the air in sync with the dancing avatar.

Alya snorted. "You're still owning it!"

"She's right," Kagami added. "Your dancing's impressive, Marinette."

She glanced back at Kagami, another smile at the ready. It died on her lips at the sight she beheld. Adrien's eyes were on his hand, laced with Kagami's, and the look he wore was a resigned one. Knitted brows. A slight weight to his lips. He was unhappy—

Pain sliced through her ankle.

In a tangle of limbs, she tumbled to the floor.

Voices cried out her name.

Steps pounded.

She didn't know when, but her hand had clung to her ankle, and her face twisted as it throbbed beneath her fingertips.

"Are you okay?!"

Her eyes flew up—and what they beheld was excruciatingly familiar.

Two hands were extended before her: black nail polish painted the one on her right and an unmistakable ring adorned the one on her left. Her right hand remained around her ankle. Her other lifted off the floor. It drifted left, right, then paused dead centre.

With a composing breath, Marinette chose neither. Instead, she reached for a nearby ottoman, small and round and pastel pink, and chose to help herself off the floor. "I'm fine, guys," she said, reaching her feet.

Everyone stared, eyes rife with worry, while Starships thumped on in the background. Such upbeat music now seemed woefully out of place.

Alya propped a hand on her hip. "You sure, Marinette?"

Nino stepped to Adrien's side. "Yeah, that was one heck of a fall."

"I agree." Kagami's eyes were on Marinette's ankle. "It looked pretty serious."

Marinette fixed up a smile. "Really, I'm A-OK. See?" She shifted her weight to her right—

Another zap of pain.

Two sets of hands sprang to her shoulders, steadying her.

Marinette waved both boys away. "No no. I've got this." She hobbled over to the sofa, stifling a wince, while steps tapped behind her. "It's not as bad as it looks"—she wasn't sure if that was a lie—"but just in case, I think I'd better be a spectator for the rest of the day."

Luka seated himself to her immediate right. "First, we should really take care of your ankle." He looked to a concerned Alya, who'd seated herself on the arm of the sofa. "Do you have any ice packs?"

Adrien claimed the free spot to Marinette's left. "Plus something to act as a barrier between the ice pack and her skin." An instruction, not a suggestion. "Painkillers too. And some anti-inflammatory cream."

"On it!" Nino rushed to the freezer.

"We gotcha!" Alya's red hair whipped behind her as she dashed to the bathroom.

Marinette clung to the cushion beneath her. This was a disaster. A complete and utter disaster. But she could at least avoid dragging her friends down with her. "No need to fuss, guys." She kept her tone light. "It's really not that bad. And I don't wanna ruin the afternoon by—"

A comforting weight on her hand gave her pause. "Never." Adrien's eyes creased as he smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze. "We're just looking out for you. You'd do the same for any of us."

Luka's hand found her shoulder. "You can tell us if you're not okay, Marinette."

"Yeah, I can call you a doctor," Adrien chipped in. "Or get my driver to take you. Just say the word, Marinette."

Kagami knelt on the floor ahead of her, a cushion in hand. "I believe elevating the injury above the heart reduces swelling. Here." She placed the cushion on the coffee table and with a substantial amount of care, eased Marinette's foot upon it.

A smile flooded her face. Her friends were truly the best.

---

With a metallic whir, daylight broke upon the silhouette of a lean man, and flocks of butterflies stirred, their pale wings catching the sun.

"Ahh… An aspiring artist with a penchant for Picasso. One whose dreams have been crushed by a hard-hearted critic." Each word floated from his tongue with a delighted lilt. "What perfect prey for my akuma."

He beckoned a nearby butterfly to his awaiting palm, carefully caging it between two gloved hands. Darkness materialized, clinging to the insect and soiling its snowy wings.

"Fly away, my pretty akuma, and evilize this wounded soul!"

[onwardintolight]

Han x Leia, ESB, Trip to Bespin, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: ESB from Leia's POV. A journey from despair to hope, a blossoming, an opening to vulnerability and love.

Warnings: Deals with some heavy themes, incl. working through trauma, depression, self-harm, attempted sexual assault. Each chapter will be individually warned.

Note: I’m currently in the process of reposting the first nine chapters here in full, since when I first wrote this fic, I only shared links to the chapters on AO3 and FFN. I will try to post at least weekly. In the meantime, if you’d prefer to binge-read it, the entire fic is posted in full on AO3 and FFN.

Part: Masterlist | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | Epilogue

~~~

In the end, they had taken him away as unceremoniously as they had locked him in carbonite. At a hand signal from Fett, the Ugnaughts activated the repulsors on the carbonite casing. Within a minute, he was gone, and Fett with him.

Leia felt hollow.

Lando approached them, a strange, almost regretful look on his face. He reached out to grab Leia’s arm again, then thought better of it. “Come on,” he said.

Four stormtroopers and an officer flanked them as they followed Calrissian out of the room. Several paces down the hall, they were corralled into a turbolift, which took them back to the gleaming upper levels. The corridors were eerily empty, entirely devoid of the bustle of people that had been there earlier that day (she supposed it was still that day, though she wasn’t altogether sure). Clearly, the Imperial presence in the city had its people spooked.

She glanced at Chewbacca. If they were to break free, it would have to be soon. She wasn’t sure where Vader’s ship was docked, but she doubted it was far. Thankfully, her strength had returned. She was tired and weary and weighed down by grief, but her body at least seemed to have recovered well enough.

She heard a soft, distant series of beeps, and she frowned, her heart leaping into her throat. Was that…?

The sound of blaster fire crackled through the air, followed by more beeps.

Luke!

He was here, with Artoo. She had to find him, had to let him know—

She was saved the trouble of trying. Apparently, they were still being used as bait. The officer nodded abruptly to Lando and the troopers, and they turned back the way they had come. The blaster fire grew closer. All of a sudden, the officer grabbed her and held her in front of him as a shield, pulling her toward a dark maintenance hallway along with the others. Leia’s heart pounded; surely that was Luke, surely—

There! There he was, peeking out from behind a wall. “Luke!” she screamed. They were pulling her towards the door; she grabbed onto the frame. “Luke, don’t; it’s a trap!” The officer tugged her inside; she struggled, broke free, and managed to grab the doorframe once more before he got hold of her again. “It’s a trap!”

Roughly, her captor pulled her inside. They were forced into a run down the corridor; moments later, they turned swiftly into another one that led back out to the main halls, slowing once they reached the light again.

Luke knows, she thought, her heart comforted. He might still come after them, but at least he’d be prepared. Now, she and Chewie had to figure out how to get to Han.

They approached an intersection, and she heard footsteps. She barely had time to blink before they were surrounded by Cloud City security guards. Lando shoved the officer towards one of the guards and began collecting blasters from the stormtroopers as Leia looked around in astonishment.

“Well done,” Lando said to his cyborg aide, handing him two of the blasters. “Hold them in the security tower, and keep it quiet,” he murmured. “Move.”

Within a few seconds, Lando, Leia, Chewie, and Threepio were alone in the hallway. To her surprise, Lando handed her two more blasters he was holding and went to work on Chewbacca’s cuffs. A sudden rush of anger flowed through her. After all he’d done, was he going to try to play the hero now?

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“We’re getting out of here.”

“I knew all along; it had to be a mistake!” exclaimed Threepio.

“Do you think after what you did to Han we’re going to trust you?”

With a snarl and a curse that Leia could not quite translate, Chewie escaped his bounds, his paws immediately latching onto Lando’s throat. The man’s eyes widened. Futilely, he reached up his hands to try to pull the Wookiee’s off. “I had no choice,” he croaked.

“What are you doing? Trust him! Trust him!” Threepio urged.

But all Leia could see was red-hot rage. This was the man who had betrayed them to the Empire. This was the man who had led them straight to Vader, bringing her nightmares back to life again. This was the man who had done nothing while they spent hours in torment. This was the man who had stolen Han Solo from her. They had trusted him once; they would not do so again. Nor would he be forgiven.

“Oh, we understand, don’t we, Chewie? He had no choice!” Spite and sarcasm dripped off her tongue.

«Liar!» growled Chewie. He shook the man, sending him to his knees.

“I’m just trying to help!” Lando’s voice came out in a wheeze.

“We don’t need any of your help,” she replied imperiously.

“Haaah… haaaaaaah….” He could no longer form words, apparently. Good, she thought. He would pay for what he’d done.

He continued croaking the same syllable, and suddenly, she frowned. “What?” she demanded.

“It sounds like Han!” Threepio declared.

Chewie must have lightened his grip slightly, because Lando managed to get out a full sentence. “There’s still a chance to save Han!” He struggled, choking out the words. “At the east… platform!”

Leia froze, uncertainty flooding through her. She blinked back her fury.

What were they doing? They were better than this. This kind of revenge, this kind of mercilessness…. She swallowed.

Whatever the case, Lando knew things that could help them find Han. “Chewie!” she pled, her voice urgent. Without waiting for a reply, she sprinted off in a general easterly direction. Whatever strange temper that had come over her was quickly fading, replaced by a deadly focus: to find and save Han. In a moment, she heard Chewie’s footfalls behind her.

“I’m terribly sorry about all this!” the droid called out behind them. “After all, he’s only a Wookiee!”

“Wait!” cried Lando. “You’re going the wrong way to get to the platform!”

Leia turned, hands on hips, an eyebrow raised. Lando coughed as he rose to his feet. “We’ve got to go this way, then curve around! I’ll show you.”

Without a word, she followed.

~~~

They ran.

Lando led them down a number of passageways she didn’t recall seeing before. While she was unable to let go of the thick resentment she felt for him, Leia was admittedly grateful for his presence now. They could have wandered for hours around Cloud City before finding the right platform.

As they ran, she caught glimpses of color through the windows. When they emerged from the tower they were in, running alongside it on an outdoor walkway, she got a full view. It was sunset, and the whole sky was ablaze with rose and violet. It seemed to mock them with its beauty; wholly apathetic to their terror and tragedy, and yet somehow at the same time emblematic of the hope Leia still dared to cradle in her heart.

Could they make it on time? Could Han still be saved?

Losing him now would be catastrophic. Boba Fett would likely deliver him straight to Jabba, and she had no doubt that Han would not be treated mercifully by the Hutt. If they didn’t rescue him before then… she forced herself not to think about it, instead counting her steps, focusing on breathing evenly as she ran.

She thought of their time together these past few weeks; how rare and precious it had been, how far they’d come together. The healing conversations they’d had, the kisses they’d shared. How much she loved him. Han might have been a scoundrel, but he was her scoundrel, the scoundrel she needed, the scoundrel with a hero’s heart. He was brave and foolhardy and compassionate and ridiculous, and she loved him. She thought of his sideways smile, how it lit her up, and his hazel eyes, so honest and vulnerable even when he was trying his damnedest not to be. She thought of how he always cared, no matter how much he claimed otherwise. She thought of him coming back, always coming back—for her, for Luke, for his friends, for what was right.

Now she was coming back for him.

They rounded a corner, and she heard a series of beeps as they ran under an archway back into the tower.

“Artoo, Artoo! Where have you been?” Threepio cried from behind her, and Chewie let out a roar of greeting. She barely paid attention, so focused was she on running after Lando. Surely the platform couldn’t be much farther.

They hurried along another corridor lined with windows looking out onto the deepening dusk, and finally they reached a security door. Lando typed something into the controls, and it opened. As soon as the door had risen high enough, she raced out onto the platform, heart pounding… and stopped short. A small ship was already lifting off. Raising the blaster rifle Lando had given her, she fired on it relentlessly. Chewie, beside her, did the same.

It was too late.

Heart constricting, she watched, powerless, as the ship flew off into the twilight, carrying Han far away. It dwindled down to nothingness, and then it was gone.

He was gone.

“Chewie, they’re behind you!” cried Threepio in alarm. Blaster bolts rang out from the hall. Cursing the Empire, she turned and ran to one side of the door for cover. After a moment, Lando ran around the door and into a side hall, and the rest of them followed, dodging enemy fire. Artoo, who had been rolling around and beeping with both excitement and confusion, zipped along after them. She could hear the stormtroopers’ heavy footfalls close behind.

“This way,” Lando called.

Thankfully, the corridor wound enough that the troopers could get no clear shot at them. A few seconds later, they came upon an intersection; to the right and up a short flight of stairs was a turbolift. Leia halted. The troopers were too close; they wouldn’t make it… quickly she leaned back around the corner and fired off a shot, downing one of them. Hopefully that would delay them for the split second they needed. Chewie growled worriedly at her to hurry, and she ran up the stairs to join the others in the lift. Lando punched the controls. The door swept shut just as a few more troopers began to run up the stairs after them.

They let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Where to now?” she asked Lando as the turbolift dropped downward.

“Back to the Falcon and out of here,” he replied. “We’re not far.”

Leia’s heart sank, but she nodded. Luke would be fine, she told herself. He was fully capable of taking care of himself, and he had brought his X-wing. Meanwhile, they had an entire detachment of stormtroopers on their tail. If they were caught, that would be the end; there would be no chance of rescuing Han, and likely no chance for them to escape again, either.

Han.

She forced back a fresh wave of tears.

They sprang out of the lift when it opened, Lando leading the way down the hall and around a corner. He stopped at another door, pounding at the controls. It didn’t open. “The security code has been changed,” he griped as Chewie came up and banged on the door.

“Artoo, you can tell the computer to override the security systems!” Threepio suggested.

Artoo beeped cheerfully and approached the console. Leia’s eyes followed Lando, meanwhile, as he walked over to another one. After entering another code, he took out a comlink. “Attention,” he announced, his voice carrying over the building’s speakers. “This is Lando Calrissian. The Empire has taken control of this city and I advise everyone to leave before more Imperial troops arrive.”

Leia’s brows knit. That was… surprisingly noble of him. She would have done the same.

Without warning Artoo began to spark, smoke pouring off of him as he cried out in mechanical distress. Chewie pulled him away from the terminal, and Leia frowned in consternation. Fortunately, the little droid seemed to recover quickly.

“This way,” interjected Lando, starting off down another hallway, and the rest of them followed.

“Well, don’t blame me,” she heard Threepio say. “I’m an interpreter; I’m not supposed to know a power socket from a computer terminal!”

Turning into a main corridor, they found themselves in the middle of a mass of panicked people running this way and that, carrying various belongings. Winding their way through them, they ducked out of the passageway and made for another security door. A blaster bolt sounded behind them; Chewie, guarding the rear, fired back. Leia turned around to join him as Artoo made for the second door’s console. Stormtroopers were swarming into the hall now; she and Chewie dropped them to the ground, one by one.

Artoo beeped in triumph. Leia heard the sound of the door opening, but she kept on firing. Anger and grief surged through her. She watched as if in a dream as more and more stormtoopers fell to her blaster bolts. Lando’s hands gripped her shoulders, pulling her away. She shook him off but backed down the hall after him, still shooting at the ones who had been complicit in so much pain. Finally, she slipped out of the doorway and ran for the Falcon. When she reached the ramp, she turned again to provide covering fire for the others. More troopers fell. Others came up to take their place; they dropped, too.

Justice.

There would be justice for what they had done. Tears stung her eyes.

“Leia!” Lando yelled from the other side of the ramp. “Go!”

She shook herself out of her trance. This won’t help Han, she realized. It wouldn’t help any of them right now.

Reluctantly, she turned and ran into the ship.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Biting Off More Than You Can Chew; part 9

Summary: Rus knew a confrontation was coming. He just didn't expect it like this.

Note: Wow, I am really sorry it took me so long to update this one. 

Tags: heatfic, dubious consent, NSFW, frenemies to lovers, mates, first time, more if I think of them

PLEASE READ THE TAGS: This is a Heat story, so there are going to be issues of consent. I don’t do partner rape, nope, but hey, I want to be straight with y’all. I like heatfics personally, but I understand how they can be troubling for some people. So there it is.

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Read it here!

~~*~~

So it turned out Edge did deserve some credit. Despite being dumped on his own in Underswap where to him all the paths would seem backwards and wrongways, he didn’t do too bad getting back to Snowdin.

Not that Rus let him get too far out of sight. Better to not leave any of the Underfell crowd alone in his ‘verse, right? Edge probably wasn’t going to start any weekend massacres or anything, but it was always good to make sure nothing happened to make Monday morning coffee a little awkward at Muffet’s.

So instead of taking a direct shortcut home, instead he took shorter ones, keeping just ahead of Edge. Besides, even if Edge didn’t know the path, the hints of cigarette smoke that Rus left behind were probably as good as a map, anyway. Not the most conventional puzzle clue, but hey. Rus was a unique guy, gotta love it.

Rus was leaning against the garage, finishing up a last cigarette when Edge finally stalked back into town. He looked irritated, but if the last few hours taught Rus anything, it was that his expression didn’t always jive with what Edge was feeling.

"not bad, edgelord,” Rus called, “you made it back without—" killing anyone, Rus bit off. If they were stuck being bonded together, toning it down on being a complete dick was probably a good starting move, "—getting lost," Rus finished, lamely.

Somehow, he didn't think Edge was completely fooled by the bait and switch. "Thank you, I live for your middling approval. Knowing that I have your respect makes all the effort worthwhile.”

“i’m good for all kinds of middle-ing,” Rus gave him a wink and an upraised middle finger, softening it with a grin. The glare he got in return was no birthday surprise but—

Okay, Edge’s brick wall metaphor worked pretty well for keeping their emotions from butting together, but it was obvious they weren't entirely pros at this whole blocking off the bond thing. A ghostly brush of amusement that wasn’t his own slithered over Rus before vanishing.

Oh.

Edge thought he was funny. In spite of that face of his that always seemed stuck in constipated disapproval, beneath it, Edge actually thought he was funny. It was an uncomfortable realization, made Rus play back a dozen other interactions where he took Edge's remarks as sarcasm and yeah, they were, but not the sarcasm he thought, tainted with dislike and irritation. It was playful sarcasm, the funtimes sarcasm that Sans and Rus both wielded like weapons experts and Red—

Nope, Red was banned from the physical and mental today.

That faint pulse of amusement was turning Rus’s world on its head and Edge was staring at him with narrowed sockets. What was he feeling, Rus wondered, wildly, what emotions was Rus sending his way, because Edge told him the morning after over pancakes that he’d never hated Rus. Somehow, that hadn't gotten around to translating into Rus’s head that maybe Edge liked him, a little, and fuck, fuck, did he know that Rus was trying not to think about kissing him? That he was remembering the heat of Edge’s mouth when he’d fitted his teeth into the healing bite mark on Rus’s collarbone, which suddenly decided now was its chance to start throbbing. The temptation was growing despite Rus trying desperately to plant a mental brick on top of it.

Did he take a step closer or did Edge? Rus wasn't even sure. His cigarette dropped from his hand into the snow and Rus barely heard the hiss as it extinguished.

He was looking at Edge’s mouth and was certainly not thinking at all of the way he’d used it in their shared shower, the unexpected skill of his tongue, he wasn’t, he fucking wasn’t, and Rus didn’t even comprehend the soft ‘ting’ of Edge’s soul turning blue until he was yanked backwards and thrown to the ground. He whipped his head around to see Blue standing with his hand outstretched, his starry eyes blazing with blue-yellow flames. “What the hell did you do to my brother!”

Rus didn’t think. Everything was on automatic as he called on his own magic, flooding with more power than he normally accessed for simple shortcuts as he extended his control hand and pushed. His brother flew back, bouncing off the porch steps with enough force to knock a couple points off his HP.

Snow fell off him in clumps as Blue sat up, his expression twisting between hurt and shock. "Papy?"

Oh, fuck. What had he done, he’d never, never hurt his brother, oh, god, oh, fuck, he--

"okay, that's enough!"

He felt the hard rush of magic enveloping his own soul, the ridiculously cheery chime of it changing blue. It was the only warning he got before Rus was sent sprawling in the snow, cold wetness seeping into his sweatshirt and pants. With an effort, Rus lifted his head from the ground to see Blue and Edge both equally pinned.

To his shock, it was Sans holding them down, one eye socket blazing yellow-blue. His brother stood anxiously next to him, wringing his hands as Sans made his slow way down the stairs, uncaring at the slush dampening his slippers as he walked over to Rus.

"you all right?" Sans asked Rus bluntly.

"me?” Rus sputtered, “of course i’m all right, why the hell--“

Sans interrupted him, his normal laconic speech crisped into sharp syllables. It reminded Rus of…of someone, he wasn’t sure who— “because the three of us just got a hellava treat listening through a locked door while you begged him not to touch you, and when we broke in, you were both gone. no offense, edgelord, but that didn't seem like the world’s friendliest chat going on."

"None taken," Edge said calmly, for all the world like they were having a debate over the dining room table and he wasn't pinned down in the wet snow. "We can explain."

Rus flinched, because they could, but he didn't want to, he didn't, fuck, it was no one else's business. To his relief, he and Sans were in agreement.

"don't need an explanation,” Sans said. The sharpness in his words faded with the strobing light in his socket. “whatever is between you two is on you. just wanted to make sure no one was hurt." He let his hand drop and the pressure on Rus’s soul eased. “now, i wanna watch a movie. you all can come along when you’re ready. c’mon, pap.”

He shuffled his way into the house, Papyrus at his heels and whatever furious, too-loud whispers he was directing at his brother were drowned out by the dull roar in Rus’s head as he looked over to where Blue was laying.

Rus scrambled up and stumbled over to his brother who was slowly sitting up. His baby brother whom he’d never hurt, never, spent years putting band aids on his scraped knees, worked three jobs until he’d been able to get them a house. Those starry eyes always looked at him trustingly, always, and Rus fell to his knees next to him, reaching out and afraid to touch. “blue," Rus started brokenly, "i’m so--"

He broke off when Blue flung himself into his arms, holding him tightly enough to make his breath whoosh out. "Papy! I was so worried!"

"i'm sorry, bro," Rus wheezed, hugged him just as tightly even as his ribs groaned a protest.

He heard the crunch of snow next to them and ducked his head lower, burying his face into Blue’s scarf. Not even a week bonded, and it was already fucking with his head enough that he’d hurt his brother. He needed to get a handle on this, now, and it was pretty obvious that Edge being in his general vicinity wasn’t helping.

A raw little sound escaped from Rus as Blue let go, trying to squirm free and reluctantly, Rus let him. Standing, his brother was barely taller than Rus was kneeling down, but he looked up over Rus’s head with uncommon solemnness.

"I'm sorry, Edge," Blue said quietly.

"No apologies are necessary.” That rough voice, directly behind him, and Rus viciously suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold snow he was kneeling in. "You were worried for your brother, of course you'd want to protect him.”

Despite his sincere attempts not to think of Red, a pang went through Rus, mostly his, but maybe not all. Protecting his brother, yeah, and Red was a fucker and a half, but—

More snow crunching, moving away and Rus heard the click of the front door, leaving him alone with his brother.

Lifting his head to look at Blue was the hardest thing Rus had ever done. But his eye lights were as starry as ever, filled with that same trust. Not that Rus deserved it, never had, but even less so now. “bro, i’m so sorry.”

Blue only waved it off, unconcerned that his older brother just fucking attacked him like some New Home street thug. “Don’t be silly, Alphys does worse than that when she tells me good morning.”

Too forgiving, by far, always, but damn if Rus wasn’t selfish enough to take it. He nodded, letting out a shaky sigh, “i'm sorry if we worried you.”

Now that he wasn’t all torn up by his feeble attempt at fratricide, what Sans said was starting to come in a little clearer. No wonder Edge let them all off so easy; if Rus had been on the other side of the door listening to Blue begging someone not to touch him, they’d be picking splinters out of the kitchen cupboards for a month.

A gloved hand cupped the side of Rus’s face he leaned into it, shamelessly basking in his brother’s affection. “Papy, what’s going on?”

“i—" Rus hesitated, swallowing hard. How could he explain any part of this to his brother? He’d never hidden his sexual proclivities, neither proud nor ashamed of them, and Blue never judged. The worst he’d ever gotten was exasperated when Rus was late because he’d accidentally slept over. But how could he look into his brother’s trusting, starry eyes and explain this clusterfuck? But he couldn’t say nothing, either.

Okay, then, evasive maneuvers. “can we talk about it later?”

Gentle as his brother was, there was some steel in his spine and right now it was working as a poker in his ass. That expression was pure determination, even as Blue nodded. He was getting a pass, for now, but it wouldn’t last forever, and Rus was going to have to either come clean or work out a new bedtime story that Blue might buy.

Welp, that was a problem for Tomorrow Rus. Today Rus pulled his brother in for another hug, one that Blue happily returned…for a moment.

"Phew!" Blue pushed him away, and his expression was one of almost comical dismay. "You stink, brother, when was the last time you took shower?"

Wow, rude. “i took a shower this morning! i’m clean as a freshly washed bar of soap.” Rus tugged up the front of his sweatshirt and gave it a good sniff. Didn’t smell weird to him, but then, he spent all day stewing in his odors, so he probably wouldn’t notice. "probably my hoodie, must've picked it from the wrong laundry pile."

“Go change,” Blue scolded, giving him a gentle shove even as he waved a hand in front of his face. “Do you want to finish the movie? You can go take a nap if you’d rather, I can tell the others you’re tired.”

“bro, you are a bonafide living angel,” Rus said, and that was nothing but frank honesty.

Blue huffed out a laugh and gave him another playful shove. “Go on, then, I’ll bring you up a plate later.”

“thanks, bro,” Rus scrambled to his feet, dripping snow as he dropped a kiss on top of Blue’s skull and stepped back, shortcutting up to his room. He stripped off his wet clothes and left them in a pile, not bothering to replace them as he collapsed bare bones onto the mattress, already halfway to an exhausted dreamland.

The blanket stayed in a crumpled ball at his feet, unused. Maybe he needed to check on their thermostat, Rus decided, already more asleep than not. Cheap fucking thing might be broken again, because it felt like it was set too high. The house seemed kinda hot.

~~*~~

tbc

[seenalready13]

Broken bridges part 2

Here we go for part 2. I think this turned out pretty well, you guys can tell me what I could do to make this better, and thanks to Kannra for her suggestions in this chapter. 

During my time here at U.A., I somehow became everyone, go-to training instructor, at first it was Sofia, she wanted to be able to utilize my quirk to the fullest, so I let her in during my training sessions it was when I realized how hard I push myself, after the first set of fifty crunches, Sofia wanted to give up since I built up my stamina and durability when I was six, so I guess it’s become normal for me. I mean when we had our physical, I scored the top spot in almost every test except in the long jump and grip strength test. There was a pretty big margin between me and second place, Jodi. 

One day, Misao asked me to train with me. I'm still feeling bad about what I did so training is the most I can do. I ask to do a little sparring session with him, no quirks, just plain fisticuffs, so I can gauge him and figure out where he stands

Misao is sitting at the bottom of the amateur level, his punches are slow and predictable, he has openings all over the place, pretty typical for most quirkies, (The name of people with quirks my mom came up with) if their quirk isn’t some form of strength enhancement they rarely bother with learning proper CQB and Misao is the same. He never really fights but instead stays on the defensive, blocking and dodging throughout the fight. If I was fighting anyone else I would crush them for attempting this, but since its Misao, I’m holding back a ton. 

Since it’s him, I’m holding back a ton, to be honest, I could beat him very easily when he blocks by crushing his guard, but I don’t and instead have some fun.    

After I had enough fun with Misao, I end the fight for his sake. I faint a punch, he falls for the bait, I spin behind, grab him and the both of us over with a German Suplex. 

I get up and look at my work, the sight of Misao with his ass up in the air is too funny, I have to hold back laughing at his pain. I walk over to make sure he’s ok, he looks up at me through his legs to see me, shaking my head in disappointment, “S-so, how did I?” He asks, his charismatic charm still strong through the pain and the embarrassing position he’s in. 

“You have a very high mountain to climb,” I reply and Misao’s body gives, falling down, that the final straw, I break down laughing. He’s going to be my greatest challenge to date, I’m fine with that, I love a good challenge.

At first, there was a major roadblock, I use Brazilian jiu-jitsu, a grappling style martial art, I could only teach Misao the basics, anything after that was going to be useless to him. So we spent a whole day looking online at martial arts to find something that would be suitable for him, he eventually chose Krav Maga, perfect for him since it’s a jack of all trade with the main focus being on self-defense. He could even apply it when he has a puppet. 

Every weekend afterward, me and Misao have private training sessions together. When it came to training Misao’s body, that was easy, I wasn’t too tough on him since Misao is a long-range fighter, so I started off with light training. Somewhere down the line, we started to go out. (That’s another story I’ll save for later.)

The first few weeks were hell for Misao, it was basically me beating the shit out of him for like 6 hours with him trying his best to learn and live. He ended up being covered in bruises afterward, walking down the hall at school was embarrassing for me since everyone including our classmates mistook the bruises as hickeys and Misao had to correct them, I wanted to die since we weren’t dating at the time, it got worse when we started going out. 

Misao was getting the hang of things, his instincts and reflexes were forming. During a session, me and Misao were sparring. He goes for a grab, I break away and retaliate with a lunging kick expecting him to dodge to the side, nope. He’s a bit too slow and I smash my foot into Misao’s gut, he’s down for the count and I pull away and Misao clutches his stomach and falls to a knee, I knocked the wind out of him like he was one of Chibi’s chew toys.

"I THOUGHT YOU'D DODGE THAT, ARE YOU FOR REAL?!" I yell, being so worried that I really hurt Misao that I’m not controlling the volume of my voice, shouting everything.    

"Mm... how was I suppose to know... '' Misao wheezes. 

"TELL ME ABOUT IT, I DIDN'T WANT IT TO TURN LIKE THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE!" I retort. 

"Um... Cortney?" 

"WHAT?!" I ask, voice still on full blast.

"You're shouting... like a lot," Misao responds making me realize what I’ve been doing.  

"That's because I'm worried, sorry." I calm myself down and help Misao to our dorm then lay him down on the couch and make him some ginger tea to help his stomach.

Sometime later, we could no longer hold our sessions at the gym due to some things that happened and were forced to have them at my place instead. It wasn’t too bad but my sister, Lisa, kept a close eye on us. 

When I told my family I was about Misao, they didn’t have the best impressions of him at the start, due to his woman-charmer vibe, but they quickly saw that he is very much in love with me and would even die to protect me. Except for Lisa, she is the one most opposed to us going out and has personally stated to his face that she doesn't like him, and shouldn’t be anywhere near me.  

She has always been very protective of me, especially since she had to take care of me by herself most of the time, so at times she comes and watches over our training to make sure Misao doesn’t try anything funny. It’s not all bad since she can cover the faults with my training, after going overseas in America for 4 years and winning the UFC women’s championship belt, she’s gotten even better. 

Actually, this brings me back to when I was a little girl, most normal kids beg for candy or toys, not me. I begged my sister and father to let me train with them, so I could become a great hero. I remember what caused me to beg to this day, Deku jumping into a fight to save a woman and her child from a villain on the news, that was when I knew I wanted to be a hero like him. 

He was one of my biggest inspirations, hell, I even went so far as to mimic his wind pressure attacks by rewatching videos of his fights, they’re nowhere near as strong as his but I kept going at it until I had something I could be proud of. But sis will always be first for me since she was there to help me every step of way even when Mom and Dad couldn’t, such as being me food or water when I would push myself to my limit, or patch me up when I got into a fight at school and thanks to her, she helped me become the amazing fighter I am today. 

During a spar, Misao actually manages to dodge my punch, then is able to pin me down on my back and hold me down, “Good job,” I say waiting for Misao to advance, however, he uses his quirk, which is illegal during spars, to bind my arms above my head. 

“Uh?” I’m left a bit confused for a second during which Misao grabs my sides with his free hand, my sides are stupidly ticklish and he knows it. I try to break free but he presses on harder with his tickle attack, I’m left at his mercy due to our positions.  

“Pleee-ease Misao,” I beg him to stop, I’m ridiculously ticklish, “We’re supposed to be training,” I remind him what we were doing, Misao stops his tickle assault allowing me a chance to breathe, unbind my arms and gets off from on top of me, I look away while crossing my arms angry at him for breaking the rules and to also hide my blushing face. 

“Come on Cortney, you know I hate fighting, and I could never hurt such a pretty face.” He replies while stroking my cheek, he knows exactly what to say and do to make me melt like butter.   

“Spoiled bastard,” I tell Misao and he responds by blowing a raspberry on my cheek, washing out any anger I may still have, “Stop that, it tickles.”

I can never be too mad at him since I forget to give myself breaks and he’s there to tell me to go easy.  

Time goes on until one Misao receives a call from Lisa telling him to come to get something for me I left at our house, when he gets there Lisa grabs and drags him to our training spot before throwing  

“What’s going on?” Misao asks from the very sudden invitation.

“Simple, break up with Cortney.” Lisa bluntly replies. 

“Why?” 

“Because Cortney shouldn’t be wasting her time with you, and I’ve watched you two, you constantly charm her and never take her training seriously.” She angrily answers with her evidence. 

Misao gets up and brushes the dirt off himself, but Lisa interrupts him before he can say anything, “No talk, we’ll settle this with our fists,” She retorts raising up her fists and getting into position, Misao does the same seeing as Lisa won’t listen to him. 

Misao waits for Lisa to take the first move, ready to counter, however, Lisa is right in front of him, driving her fist deep into Misao’s stomach and lifting him off the ground, “Even if I had a quirk, I wouldn’t need it to beat your ass.” Lisa whispers in Misao’s ear before flinging him at a nearby tree. He pushes himself back up to his feet where he’s stuck with a brutal kick to the chest, knocking out any wind he may have had left and pushes him to the ground.  

When Misao tries to get up, Lisa shuts him with a swift kick to the side of the ribs also flipping Misao on his side and exposing his vulnerable stomach and kicks as hard as she can. Misao can only take it as the previous attacks left him reeling in pain.

Lisa strikes three times each harder and more brutal, the third strike causes Misao to vomit the contents of his stomach, she rests her arms behind her head and starts walking away seeing as Misao has had enough punishment, “Stay the FUCK away from Cortney.” 

“S-s-selfish,” Misao croaks, Lisa turns around and sees Misao shaky trying to get up, she presses her foot on his back.

“What was that? Say that again?” Lisa viciously asks.

“You’re being selfish, what gives you any right to decide what’s right for Cortney?” Misao repeats, Lisa applies weight to her leg without any response.

“I’m protecting her from people like you, she worked her whole life up to this point, and I’m not letting you ruin this!” Lisa retorts, trying to press Misao into the floor but he’s fighting back. 

“You say that, but have even given a thought about how Cortney would feel?” Misao counters, fighting against Lisa, “NO, you haven’t, you haven’t given her wellbeing the time of day! She’ll be divested if I went through with it, and that’ll cause more damage than I could ever do if I tried!” Misao fights up to his feet and knocks Lisa off balance and socks her in the face with all his might, she falls down and Misao is now the left one standing. 

Lisa stares up at the sky, thinking about what Misao said, then covers her face with her hand, “You’re right!” she says still on the ground, “I was angry that I couldn’t be there to protect Cortney, and just attacked you with that anger for no reason. Sorry about that, it’s a really bad habit of mine.” She points out.

“It’s fine,” Misao says.

“I was blind, and have been a really bad big sister. Listen, you win, just promise me, you’ll make Cortney happy.” She asks.

“I will,” Misao promises, clutching his sides, which are probably broken. 

Lisa gets up and puts an arm over her shoulder, “Sorry, let me patch you up, also don’t tell Cortney about this, ok?” Misao nods.

“Also, let me add, you still have to earn my respect.” 

I eventually found out and was quite pissed off at Lisa for some time, I had her be Misao’s training dummy to make up for it.

[minhoslut]

♡ summary: Y/N is a fairy in a world of magic hating humans, who moves into a house with seven young men after being kicked out of her old dorm. She learns about all their secrets while hiding hers for as long as she can. Lots of parties, games, sex and maybe even love.

♡ pairing: ot7 x fem!reader, fem!reader x various idols

♡ chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | ? |

♡ series warnings: alcohol consumption, blood mention, drug use, mxm, fxf, threesome, foursome, orgy, swearing, anxiety, depression, past trauma, past abuse

♡ series genre: fluff, smut, slight angst

♡ series rating: R

♡ word count: 2528

♡ posted on: AO3

♡ chapter eight: daily life

When you woke again you began by stretching your body, then you peeled yourself out of the damp bed. Why was it damp anyway? Ah. You looked down. The swimsuit. Groaning you peeled the still slightly wet suit off your body and dug through your wardrobe. A pretty light blue wrap dress with a floral pattern was the choice as it was simple but cute . It was 10 am, so you weren't sure who would be awake, faintly recalling Jin mentioning something about 4 am when you had gone to bed. Heading to the bathroom, you washed your face and brushed your teeth before heading downstairs.

It seems only you had awoken as it was still silent on the main floor. You surveyed the area and decided to take it upon yourself to clean up this mess. You were awake anyway, and not quite hungry yet. Humming softly, you picked up various empty bottles and cans, threw away garbage, swept and mopped up sticky messes. Satisfied with your work, you wiped your brow and boiled some water for some chai tea. A hand on your waist startled you, "Just me, sorry." Yoongi's deep voice came from behind you as he reached over your shoulder to grab a mug from the shelf. He moved to the coffee maker and began to brew some, "Did you clean up all on your own?" He asked as he looked around.

You nodded, taking your mug over to one of the seats on the island and bouncing the teabag in your cup lightly. "We could've helped once everyone was awake..." Yoongi said sounding sheepish. You waved a hand, "I wasn't doing anything anyway, plus you guys have all been so kind to me as I've settled in." Taking a sip of your drink you smiled at him, "Does Namjoon have a habit of getting undressed when he's drunk or is that new?" Yoongi chuckled and came to sit beside you with his now full cup of coffee, "That is new for sure. I was surprised to find him in his boxers but whatever, not like I haven't seen it before. Must have been a shock for you though."

You giggled, "Hm I don't know about shock, he has a nice build. It was just so funny!" Yoongi smirked at you and raised an eyebrow, "Nice build huh?" You stuck your tongue out at him then turned back to your tea, ignoring Yoongis soft laughter. "Y/N~ Goodmorning~" Jimin sang as he came into the kitchen, grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee. "What am I? Chopped liver?" Yoongi grumbled from beside you, making Jimin and you laugh. Jimin set his mug down and came behind Yoongi enveloping him in a tight hug. "Good morning to you Yoongi!" He said, ignoring the older mans attempts to shake him off.

Seokjin and Hoseok came into the kitchen then and began fetching their own drinks of choice. “Were you still wet this morning after last night Y/N?” Jin asked, taking a gulp of his tea. You choked on your own mouthful and looked at him incredulously. Seokjins ears went bright red as he realized the connotations of his words, “Not like that!” He sputtered, “Because you went to bed in your swimsuit!” You nodded, “Sure that's what you meant, not that you wanted a repeat of Friday?” You said boldly with a wink, making the four men gawk at you. “Anyway, do you guys do a Sunday party too?” Hoseok cleared his throat, “Yeah we do, none of us have Monday classes anyway. It can either be batshit crazy or a bit more mellow than other nights.” You made a noise of understanding and put your now empty mug in the sink.

By now it was close to 1 pm so you decided to make bibimbap for lunch with the help of Jin. The two of you shooed the other boys out of the kitchen to wake up the still sleeping men because they kept stealing slices of the ingredients while you were cutting them up. When the two of you were satisfied with the plating and table setup you asked Yoongi, who had opted to work on his computer on the couch, to go let the other boys know the food was ready.

You tried to keep in the snicker you felt when Namjoon came to sit beside you in his plaid pajamas and messy bed hair. Carding your hands through his hair, you made it somewhat presentable, earning a satisfied hum from the barely aware man. The other six laughed at his state, but poured him a glass of water and made sure he ate his lunch. After he had eaten Namjoon was much more aware and so the boys began their relentless teasing of his impromptu strip show the night before.

Namjoon banged his head on the table, “God, I am so sorry Y/N.” But you shook your head and gave him a smile. “She thinks you have a hot body Joon, don’t worry.” Yoongi said as he began to clear the table. You gave him a look but he just laughed while Namjoon looked flustered. “Y/N~ Play a game with me and Kook.” Taehyung whined coming to tug on your arm, you rolled your eyes and let him drag you to the games area. Jungkook sat beside you and rested his head on your shoulder as Taehyung set up the console. Jungkook smelt good and his hair was still the tiniest bit damp, so you assumed he had showered before lunchtime.

Taehyung came to sit on your other side and the three of you began your intense game of Mario Kart. Well, intense between Jungkook and Tae that was. Of all types of games, racing games were your biggest weak spot. You struggled to keep up with the two, and after a few hours, you gave up your remote to Jimin and instead cuddled into Jungkook. Pulling out your phone you looked at the mostly empty home screen. You’d deleted all your social media apps when you’d left your old dorm, the pain of the memories had been too much for you to even block them. Pocketing your phone once more, you inhaled Jungkooks scent and felt much calmer. You hated the effect your ex-friends still had over you.

Stretching, you left your spot, stepping over Jimin who was sat on the floor and headed to the back yard. Jin and Namjoon were both reading on the outdoor wicker couch while Yoongi was clacking on his computer in one of the matching chairs. Hoseok was doing yoga on the grass which made you raise a brow. “No one is gonna join poor Hobi in his yoga?” You said stepping out onto the deck. Jin and Namjoon both made a face while Yoongi completely ignored the comment. You shook your head and made your way over to where Hoseok was. “Bunch of losers.” Hoseok said as you came to stand beside him, copying his pose.

It felt nice to do the slow stretches in the soft sun of the afternoon, Hoseok was patient as he taught you the proper techniques. Occasionally he would move your limbs with his hands, his grip gentle but direct. It was a strangely intimate thing, but you both spent a lot of it giggling with each other as you attempted the more difficult moves. When you had finished with yoga, Hoseok turned on a speaker and began to dance. You watched his fluid movements and joined in slowly as you picked up on the beat. The dance ended up getting silly very quickly and soon the two of you were collapsed in a pile of laughter on the grass.

You sighed sitting up, “I suppose we should make dinner now then.” Hoseok hummed but made no move to get up from his position on the grass. You watched Jin stand up from his spot, “Me and Yoongi will make fish and rice so you guys can stay out here.” He said, pulling Yoongi to stand with him. You gave him a huge smile and a call of gratitude before laying down so only your head was beside Hobis. "We've been let off the hook, though I'm not sure you were going to be help anyway." You said with a giggle. Hoseok sat up and looked at you, "Hey! I can help better than Namjoon and Jimin!" He argued, making Namjoon give a shout of indignation from his seat on the deck.

You laughed harder. "You think that's funny? How about this!" Hobi began to tickle you and you screeched with laughter. "Oh, ticklish are we? Admit I'm helpful!" -- "Never!" You struggled to say in between his attacks. You were wheezing and could barely breathe as he tickled you, but you never backed down from a fight of any kind. Hoseok chuckled evil, "Not giving in hm? How about this!" He snatched you into his arms and began to spin around as fast as he could. You shrieked as he did so clutching to his arm and shoulder tightly. You heard Namjoon yell to Hoseok to leave you alone and not to fall, but he was clearly ignored.

When Hoseok finally slowed and put you on your feet the both of you were so dizzy that you fell right on top of him and took him down with you. "Who's trapped now?" You said with a sly smile, then you pressed a quick kiss to Hoseoks lips before running away into the kitchen with a cackle, leaving the man stunned on the ground. "What's got you all messed up?" Taehyung asked brushing your hair back into place when you nearly collided with him running into the room. "Oh, just a little play fight with Hobi." You said with a wink. "Well, foods ready anyway so sit." With that, he left to get Namjoon and Hoseok inside.

Dinner was delicious and everyone was in high spirits, you were shooed away from dishes once Yoongi spilled that you had cleaned the house alone. You took a quick shower before heading to your room to pick an outfit. Flicking through your hangers you came across a pretty lemon yellow silk dress with a cowl neckline , sliding it on and tugging it down so it sat how you wanted on your curves. Glittery lip gloss, a gold highlight, and a dramatic lash was your makeup for the night. Brushing through your hair and giving it a quick blow dry, you were ready and headed downstairs.

Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook were back on the couch playing games when you reached the ground floor. Taehyung was wearing black slacks, a matching belt, a white t-shirt tucked in, and a black, red and white striped dress shirt set over top , looking dashing indeed. Jimin was in a simple black long-sleeved top with a cut down the center that revealed just enough skin, tucked into black slacks and cinched at the waist with a belt as well . Jungkook had on ripped blue jeans with a white tee tucked into them, a black belt sat around his waist and a light tan button-up over it . They were too involved in their game to pay you any attention, whooping in excitement at the screen.

You walked by them and into the kitchen where Seokjin and Yoongi were pouring various drinks into a glass on the island. Seokjin was dressed fairly simple, black slacks and a blue long sleeve button up with white stripes , classic but handsome. Yoongi was in black skinny jeans and a black t-shirt with white graphics on it, a blue floral patterned jean jacket to pull it all together . “What are you two up to?” You asked, propping your elbows on the island and resting your head in your palms. “Y/N! Wow, you look gorgeous as ever.” Jin complimented, making you crinkle your eyes in a bright smile. “Thanks! You too are looking dashing as always~” Jin laughed at your words but you saw a slight blush cross Yoongis face before he cleared his throat.

“We are making the punishment drink for the loser of their Overwatch game.” He gestured to the youngest three on the couch. “Oh? I pity he who ends up in that spot!” You chuckled. “Do you want something, I can mix you up something fun?” Jin asked with a wiggle of his brows. “Surprise me then Master Mixologist~” You cooed. “Jin’s making drinks? Make me and Hoseok rum and cokes.” Namjoon said as he came to stand beside you, while Hoseok came to sit on the kitchen table. Namjoon was wearing black jeans secured with a black belt, a red tee tucked in, and a jean jacket, while Hoseok was in tan slacks and had a light blue button-up slightly tucked in and undone a few buttons at the top.

“Fine, fine, I’ll make your drinks. What a waste of my talent...” Seokjin grumbled, you giggled knowing this probably happened often. Jin handed you the now finished drink which was a pretty pinky-peach colour. “A Love Potion for the lovely lady.” He said with a wink as you took a sip. “This is perfect!” The sweet and tangy cocktail fit your taste exactly, “What's in it?” You asked Seokjin as he poured the drinks for Namjoon and Hobi, “Peach schnapps, vodka and grapefruit juice, guaranteed to make you fall for the person who made it for you.” He answered suggestively, making you smile. “These will make you love me too, though!” He said handing Hoseok and Joon their drinks, they just rolled their eyes at his comment though.

A wail came from the living room and you all looked over to see Taehyung and Jungkook dancing as Jimin sat on his knees, head in his hands. “Seems like the winner has been decided.” Yoongi said, crossing his arms with a smirk on his face. A very dejected Jimin came to the kitchen dragging his feet as Jungkook and Tae whooped along beside him. Yoongi presented the nasty concoction of various alcohols with a lime slice on the edge of the glass. Jimin grimaced and picked it up, gagging when he got a whiff of the drink. “This smells like alcoholic acid.” He deadpanned, making the rest of you howl with laughter.

Jimin pinched his nose and downed the drink while you cheered him on. He looked a bit sick as he finished it but chewed the lime triumphantly while the boys tackled him with hugs. “You’re all ridiculous!” You said through your laughter, shaking your head at their antics. “So you’re not proud of me?” Jimin said with a pout, his eyes big and shiny. “Proud of what? You losing?” You teased, taking a sip of your drink. Jimin gaped at you like he couldn’t believe his puppy dog eyes hadn’t worked. “Looks like you’ve met your match Jiminie~” Yoongi said with a smile. “We’ll see about that…” Jimin said, a mischievous smile on his lips.

There was a knock on the door at that moment and you downed the rest of your drink and smiled.  “Let’s get this party started!”

[salamanderskin]

Winter Returning Part 7-8 (end)

This is the final part. Many thanks to those who have been reading along. I know fewer people read f/f and I don’t write it often, but this piece is very close to my heart. 

 Part 1-2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5-6

Historical lesbian romance, fever, caretaking etc.

“Poor love.” She said, very softly. I don't think she meant me to hear it but I did. Some sweetness in it was exactly what I needed to send me into sleep at last.

Thea

We came into a kind of rhythm after that day, for the two that followed were much the same. I was often busy out of the cottage and though Kay professed restlessness and was forever on her feet, tending her weapons, the fire, the garden, she did not stray far. I came home to find her in the woodland to back of the garden, felling enough wood to last the rest of the winter. I could see that the swing of the axe pained her and she could not stop coughing and sneezing in the cold air, but it was no good asking her not to.

I watched her from a distance. Her breath trickled from her lips in plumes and she paused to cough chokingly into her fist at regular intervals, but it didn't stop her moving.  

We seemed to be stuck in this brittle, lovely pattern. It couldn't last forever, the scouts would come and find her sooner or later and she would leave me as she had before. But for now, all I could do was enjoy it, enjoy her. And I did.  

The shivering cold drew her closer to me and I was grateful for it. We spent the nights under the same blanket. As she got stronger we reverted to our old positions in the bed, me with my head cradled on her breast, her chin on the top of the head.

The third day was different. Kay was much better, her wounds healing. The gash on her head had made a russet crust that still split and cracked when she moved too fast, but she didn’t need the dressing on it any more. The swelling on that side of her face was down, leaving only faint purple warpaint just above her left eye. She let me fasten her hair back from it and looked almost back to her practical self. She moved tenderly around the cut on her stomach. The fever came and went, worse at night, then seemed to pass, though the cold was very much in evidence and she was fairly miserable with it. She didn't say anything but it was in the pained twist of her mouth after a set of sneezes tore through her throat, in the hollow husk of her voice.

“You needn’t-“ she said, each time I rubbed her back through a fit of coughs, or passed her a cup of water in the night. But I think she smiled, and when her head felt heavy she let me run my fingers through her hair.  

I felt better about leaving her then. That day I went out and left Kay sleeping. She lay on her back with her mouth charmingly open, one hand cast above her head as if in a gesture of despair. In sleep her features were softer. She was almost smiling. As I climbed over her to leave the bed I couldn't resist a swift press of my lips to her cheek. She smiled more.  

It was still bitterly cold. I dressed as quickly as I could and threw my thickest shawl over my shoulders before setting out into the morning, munching on a piece of bread. My boots echoed like hoof beats on the frozen earth as a went down the lane and toward the town.  

My business in town kept me for longer than I expected. I saw four patients, stopped by the market and the hardware shop that sold my bottles, cloths for straining and copper pots for boiling up. The woman in there, Mara, blinked at me over her ledger of figures.  

“It’s been a few days. Have you been well?”  

“Quite, thank you.” I said guiltily. “Just avoiding the bitter weather. I had much to do at the cottage despite the season.” 

“Oh aye.” Mara said neutrally. “But there’s folk looking for you. Two scouts came by not an hour ago.”  

“For me?” 

“They didn't have any wounded, they said. Wanted to ask you a question. Asking the way to the cottage. Go out in the square and you’ll catch them, I expect.” 

So it was time. My interval alone with Kay Winter was at an end and her people had come for her. I straightened my back and left the shop at a brisk walk, chin up to face the world. 

I missed them in the square and hurried back along the lanes out of town without a hope of catching them up. The prints in the soft ground under the trees  told me that they were on horseback, so I hadn't a chance. 

It was early afternoon by the time I returned to the cottage. The sun was still above the trees and it shed lemon yellow radiance that made even the bare garden magical. It was incredibly still. Not even the foraging robins were speaking in the bushes. The only intrusion of sound was the huff and stamp of two horses hitched to the big elm tree at the edge of the woods. I passed them on my way to the door, reached out absently to pat the nearest on it’s flank. They were tough dun and black beasts with bright, handsome eyes and the insignia of the King’s Scouts on their tack.  

The door to my house was ajar-  Letting in a draught in this weather- and the unfamiliar rumble of a masculine voice came from within.  

“Hello? Who’s there?” I  called. “Kay?” 

The front  room was empty. Our visitors and Kay herself were through the back, in our bedroom. My bedroom. I felt invaded. Bristling, I strode forward.  

What was Kay doing in the bedroom? Had she taken a turn for the worse? I found it hard to imagine, I'd thought the worst was over and besides Kay would fall on her own sword before she held an audience with her superiors in her nightdress. But sure enough the door to the bedroom was ajar and I could hear Kay coughing. Two tall figures hovered on the threshold.  

“Excuse me, Sir, Madam.” I addressed the two scouts and they turned to me. 

It was the Captain and a scout I didn't recognise who had her dark hair braided up on her head. At least they had the good grace to look embarrassed. 

“Very sorry to intrude, Miss Loughran.” The Captain bowed to me. “We had information suggesting Leiutenant Winter was out this way and we were in the area so….” He spread his weapon-coarsened hands. 

“… so you thought it was appropriate to burst into my house while I was out.”  

He cleared his throat and tilted his head to indicate the bedroom. I peered past his shoulder to see Kay lieing in the bed. Well, it could only have been Kay but the covers were pulled so far up over her head that very little of her could be seen. Her hair was damp with sweat, mussed over the pillow and matted with blood in a streak across her forehead. Her eyes were almost closed but for a split second they opened and caught mine. No way was that woman sleeping. She was watching and listening as hard as she could.  

I was about to speak to her but she shook her head minutely. Then the movement came again, a shudder through her shoulders as she drew a ragged breath and sneezed- “htzSscH!”- weakly against the pillow. She didn't even open her eyes but groaned afterward, her breath a whisper.  

What on earth had happened in the hours I was gone?  

Kay sneezed again and the female scout drew back a few steps in distaste. The sound turned into a nasty, drawn out cough that rattled in her chest. 

The Captain cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. 

“Truly sorry, Thea.” He said again, less formal and more genuine. “If I'd known she was in such a bad way I'd not have intruded. Had we best come back another day?” 

“I expect you had.” I replied absently, distracted by the state of the woman in my bed. “Wait in the front and I'll see to her a moment.”  

The minute they had retreated I fairly ran to her bedside and knelt, peeling back the covers to look at her face.  

Kay raised her head enough to see that the others were gone and placed one finger to lips. Not a word. Well, then. What was she playing at?  

I cupped a hand over her forehead. It was damp and warm, but only under-the-blankets warm. The wound on her head had been knocked open and she’d swiped the blood and fluid back into her hair. It looked far worse than it was.  

The cough that came a moment later was real enough though. She was working up a nice chest infection and I didn't like the sound of the wheeze between each breath. Kay struggled to one elbow to get more air and I passed her a cup of water. She sipped gingerly and lay back down. 

“I’ll just go and tell the captain that you're too unwell to give information or rejoin the force at present, then.” I said very quietly. 

A cough, a minute nod.  

Back in the healer’s room the female scout was pacing in front of the window as though expecting the ash trees to leap out and attack. The Captain has lowered himself into one of the wooden chairs and gestured for me to take the other. 

“Is she… will she recover?” He asked. 

I bit my tongue. “I expect so. What she needs is time, and not to pass it on to the rest of the force.” 

The scout at the window nodded emphatically and the captain rose to his feet.  

“As you were then, Thea. We’ll be on our way. When should we come back?” 

“I wouldn't hold your breath. She’s wounded too, more than you saw. If you want her back in fighting condition I'd wait for her to come to you. She knows where to find you.” 

“She does that.” He growled, buckling his crossbow back over his shoulder as he made for the door. He paused to clap me on the shoulder. “See her well for us.” 

“I will.” I promised. 

I stood at the window and watched until the horses were out of sight. Only then did I draw the curtains against the bitter weather and made my way back to the bedroom to give Kay Winter a piece of my mind for nearly scaring me to death. 

.......................

Kay 

“You scared me to death!” Was the first thing Thea said when she came into the room. 

“Have they gone then?” 

When she nodded I  flung the covers off and sat upright. It was stifling under there and I was wearing some of Thea's old clothes, for when I head the Captain coming I hadn't had time to change. Between the two I was slick with sweat and it made the congestion and pounding in my head feel ten times worse.

Thea came to sit on the side of the bed.

“I didn't know you were an actress. Or such an actress as that.”

“Neither did I. But it was worth a chance.” I said.

Thea laughed then, really laughed. “It seems they think you have some sort of plague. You're as cunning as a winter fox.”

I had to snuffle uncomfortably to answer, finally admitting. “I feel rough enough. I'm not exaggerating so much as all th- th--aah – htzSscH!”

A conveniently timed sneeze knocked me forward into my lap. When I looked up, Thea was holding a handkerchief out for me with a complicated expression on her face.

“But Kay-” she paused. “Why? Why exaggerate? Why lie?”

There was the question. It wasn't until she asked it that I knew the answer myself, and then it was obvious. There was more than simple need that had lead me to this house in the woods

“Because...” a deep, steadying breath. “I just want to stay here with you. If you'll have me.”

There. I'd said it. My heart was hammering now and I closed my eyes as though I could remove myself from the situation.

“Why did you wait so long?”

I shrugged. “I thought if I was injured you wouldn't turn me away. I didn't mean to get ill, to be a burden-”

“Of course you didn't mean to. Nobody would wish that on themselves.”

To be in your arms? I thought, they just might.

Thea still hadn't quite answered the question but the reassurance in her eyes was quite enough for me.

Most of her hair had worked loose in what must have been a headlong hurry through the woods. She pulled the tie from the end and bundled it in her hands, rebraiding it into a fat plait like a horses' tail. I loved the darkness of it against her skin. As the strands of hair were bound together so her thoughts collected themselves, visibly, and when she looked at me properly again it was the practical, sensible Thea I was used to.

“You're soaked with sweat. You ought to have a bath.”

It did sound good. Now she said it I was aware of the slick, itchiness on my skin. I ducked relexively into “Not if it's too much trouble...?”

“Stop it, Winter, it's no trouble. I'll go and draw the water.” Thea said, and off she went, leaving me marvelling at this woman and at myself.

…

When the bath water was warm, Thea called me into her front room, the healer's room where the  tub sat in front of the fire. Evening had fallen but the lamps were lit and golden light spilled across the floorboards. It was warmer in there and Thea had taken her overdress off. She was left in a light undershirt and a skirt, sleeves pushed up to her forearms to be out of the water. When she saw me approach she pulled a kettle from the fire and added it to the bathtub where the water steamed.

She'd seen more of me than most people but I still felt a twinge of shyness and wondered if she was going to turn her back while I bathed or whether she intended to wash me like a babe.  Thea's face was flush, eyes shining. The humidity had lifted curls of hair from her forehead.

She was definitely watching me, perhaps for the cue to leave. She didn't have to leave.

I started at the buttons on my shirt when Thea rose suddenly, crossed the room to look at me and almost shouted;

“--You were promoted and you just left-- You never came back!”

Thea never raises her voice.

She clapped a hand over her mouth but the words had already surprised me, too; like a slap, like ripping a bandage from smarting flesh.

“Did you want me to?”

I had to be sure. I hadn't been sure then and that had been the problem.

Thea had gained back her usual control now. She took a step back from me but kept those dark eyes on me all the while.

“Are you mad?” She said. “Yes. Of course I did.”

I felt a little light-headed. It must have been the warmth in the room.

“I didn't know...” I said stupidly. She stared at me defiantly until I continued. “... For the first six months I couldn't write, and then I didn't know what to say. I thought you wouldn't want me away most of the year. You could have someone with you all the time. Someone more like you.”

“I don't want anybody else.”

She sighed and turned away, hands twitching for a job to do. I reached out and held them, held her to me.

“Are you angry, Thea?” I asked.

She didn't have to think about it.

“...not with you.”

Then she kissed me.

The sweetness of it nearly knocked the air from my lungs, at once foreign and familiar- I remembered this, but it had been such a long time. Her eyes closed but I kept mine open so I could watch her. It was long, slow and tentative as our lips and tongues began the process of relearning each other. It was only after our lips had drawn apart and we were gazing drunkenly at each other that it occurred to me- “I'll get you ill...”

Thea gave a giddy laugh, murmured, “It's days too late to worry about that. But your bath will get cold. Take your things off.”

So I did, and there was no more shame to be had. I dropped them in a puddle on the floor and stepped into the warm water before the chill of the air could rake my skin. It was good and hot.

Bright fire burned across the site of my wound and I paused my breathing to grit my teeth until it passed, and pass it did as relaxation stole over me.

The steam from the bath loosened the congestion in my head and I sniffed warily, knuckling under my nose in irritation.

“That must feel better.”

I lay in that bath for a long time, breathing slowly, casting shy looks at the woman beside me.

“It's getting cold.” Thea said at last. “You should get out.”

“Can I go to bed now?” I asked. Out of the water I was shivering and my teeth started to chatter.

“Of course.” Thea smiled. She found my nightdress as I towelled myself down and came to me with a candle in her other hand, like a vision of everything I ever wanted; warm, kind, beautiful.  

“I feel like I could sleep for a thousand years...”

“You can rest as much as you want, Kay.” She said. “After all, it's nearly winter and the weather may be too bad to worry about rejoining the scouts until spring.”

We both looked out of the window at the same time and blessed the darkening night that, this time, would keep us together.

FIN

Huge thanks to anyone who has made it to the end of this. 

[knightingale-xiv]

Nightingale's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Really Bad Week: Day 4

Chip, having now dabbled in revolutionary theory, had set part of his plans in motion. He needed some rough and tumble characters to help him overpower the guards at this prison. By his count, there were at least 50 armed Garlean soldiers here and ready to rumble. The bangaa, Tongo not included, had roughly 30 in their numbers. There were only 5 viera in the prison, and the other 60 or so prisoners seemed to be mostly Hyur with sprinklings of Elezen and Roegadyn. If he could get everyone on board, they would easily outnumber the Garleans and be able to bust out...

The only problem was the aether dampening collars and the lack of equipment. Not everyone was a hand-to-hand specialist like Chip, and not everyone was fit to fight without Aether. In fact, roughly half of the prisoner population seemed too weary and hopeless to fight at all...This was the fourth day of Chip's captivity and so he would have to spend this time rallying who he could.

Kaja was busy recruiting the able bodied resistance fighters that she trusted. Chip had to have meetings with them to convince them he wasn't insane...And they still weren't entirely convinced that he wasn't. Getting an army to fight for him off the bat wasn't what he was expecting though. He needed to spark something serious, and to do that he needed a few good individuals to back him up and be ready. Kaja was one...Tongo was going to be the second.

Chip had to admit, he was nervous about meeting with the behemoth of a bangaa. Kaja had spent most of the morning on their shift telling him about all the horrors that came with the bangaa warrior. He had apparently eaten a guard and personally put a few of the other prisoners in the infirmary. The Garleans had tried to execute him, but it evidently didn't take. They decided to keep him around as he was a good asset and worker when docile and not bothered...and when left hungry. Tongo only got one meal a week, and that was yesterday.

This gave Chip an idea. If he could sneak his meals to Tongo at night, he may be able to convince the bangaa to join his cause. He set out to do so tonight, a bundle of nutrition bars and a biscuit under arm. Fortunately, stealth was one of Chip's strong points. Manuevering through the camp without being seen was child's play, and he found Tongo's cell easy enough. The brute had to be kept seperately from other prisoners to avoid conflict.

Chip went up to the barred window at the back of the cell and peered inside. Tongo was asleep on his mat, snoring a low rumbling snore. What a freakin' monster...It was kind of exciting.

"Psst...Tongo." Chip called, knocking gently on the bars. The sleeping giant didn't so much as stir. Chip couldn't blame the guy, it was like...Midnight. "Tongooo!" Chip whispered a little louder, flicking a pebble ay the bangaa. The warrior snorted and shifted, slowly rising to a seated position. He looked around slowly for the source of the noise before seeing the white haired Hyur at his window. "Come here for a second, please!" Chip called and waved.

Much to Chip's surprose, Tongo obeyed quietly and lumbered to the window, crouching down so his massive face could peer through the bars at this little person.

"What do you want?" The bangaa giant's speech was slow and deliberate, like he was thinking about each word for a second before saying it.

"I wanted to give you this." Chip pulled the bundle from under his arms and slid it between the bars. It looked small in Tongo's fingers as he reaches to grab it. The bangaa slowly opened the bundle and sniffed at the food inside.

"Food?" He asked, dragging out the 'oo' sound a little. It was kinda adorable...he was like a giant puppy. "Why?" There was slight suspicion in Tongo's voice. "Are you not...afraid of me?"

"Afraid? Nah, I just saw that you don't get much food, and get dragged around on a chain all the time. Figured you'd need some extra grub is all!" Chip grinned up. "Everyone says you're some sort of monster, but I don't think so..."

Tongo took a good long look at the hyur...What a strange boy. He sat down with a soft thud and began eating, never taking his eyes off Chip.

"I'm Chip, by the way." He stuck his hand through the bar, and Tongi shook it with surprising gentleness.

"Tongo..." the goliath mumbled through a mouthful of nutrition bar. Chip grinned and rested his chin on the sill. He spent a few hours talking to Tongo and learning about him. Evidently, Tongo wasn't as bad as the Garleans said.

"I did not want...to hurt anyone..." Tongo rumbled. "Guard and inmates...hurting other people..." he explained, looking down with an expression that Chip could only describe as shame. Chip smiled sympathetically and nodded.

"Yeah, I know the feeling... I've had to hurt people too because they were hurting others...I think I'm going to have to do it again here soon." Chip looked over his shoulder. Guards were patrolling all night, but they were starting to get closer. "I have to go Tongo. I'll visit again tomorrow!" Chip promised with a grin. Tongo slowly nodded.

"I will look forward to it..." he murmured before laying back down and preparing to sleep again. "If you fight to protect...then it will be ok."

Chip smirked then hopped down and began sneaking through the camp, pleased with how the exchange had gone. Tongo may just come around and help him after all! With a stealthy skip in his step he made his way back to his barracks. He was pretty close when he heard a very unwanted sound...

The high pitched wail of the alarum.

He looked around, expecting a spotlight to shine down on him, but saw nothing aimed his direction. Instead, a light was shining down on another hyur that was sprinting through the yard. The hyur had a hooded work jacket on, so he couldn't make out his features, but based on how he was running he was definitely terrified.

Chip knew that if he went to help he would jeopardize his own plans...but someone was in trouble. He cursed his nature and took off quietly on an intercept course. The man was managing to zig zag and occasionally lose the light, but guards were shouting and closing in.

The man panted and wheezed as he sprinted, looking over his shoulder occasionally to see his pursuers. He wasn't going to make it! He only freaked out more as a pair of hands shot out of the shadows and dragged him behind one of the barracks. He screamed a muffled scream into the palm of a young white haired man with very intense blue eyes, before realizing he was another prisoner.

"What in the world are you doing?" Chip hissed, looking out at the scrambling guards. They wouldn't be safe for long. They would find them both in a matter of minutes.

"I-I was sneaking into my wife's barrack! She's pregnant and I...I..." he began to tear up, grasping at Chip's jumpsuit. "I already have my strike...please, they'll kill me! You have to help!" He begged. Chip sighed and placed his hands on the man's shoulders.

"Relax...give me your jacket..." he murmured, pulling it off the man. "Wait for thirty seconds then make a run for your barracks." The youth ordered, slipping the jacket on and pulling the hood up.

The man was dumbfounded. This stranger was actually going to help? "Who...who are you? Why are you saving me?"

Chip smiled and gave a non-chalant wink. "Cuz that's what heroes do. In case I don't make it back, find Kaja the Viera and tell her that Chip has been taken and to get ready for the show. Can you do that?" He asked. The man nodded dumbly and crawled into the shadows. The guards were getting closer.

Chip could hear one getting closer and waited before springing out and cold clocking the guard. The man went down with a cry of pain, and Chip nearly went with him. He was a staggering mess in combat without his aether. Still, he had to do the best he could. He whistled and gave a rude gesture to the other guards and the spotlight before taking off. The shouts went up and the men began to give chase. He hoped the Hyuran guy could make it back safely...

He ducked through walkways and around corners, doing his best to try and lose his pursuers. Things seemed to be going pretty well! Even with his reduced capabilities, he was making pretty good time! He whipped around a corner and began running through a narrow alleyway. He could see his barracks! If he could just clear the alley, he was home free!

He grinned in victory as he neared the exit, but was startled to see a large black blur speeding around the corner at his face. He had no time to dodge before it collided with his nose and he went down, slamming his head against the hard dirt and blinking. Everything was fading as unconciousness threatened him...The last thing he saw before the darkness overtook his vision was the grinning maw of the Roegadyn guard...

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

Day 6

Final Day

[marshmallow-phd]

My Soul to Keep

Genre: Demon AU

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Kris Wu

Summary: Kris never had a problem with what he was. He’d bargain and make deals with mortals in exchange for their souls. It was just the job. But when an assignment puts you in his path, he’s suddenly questioning his existence. As the consequences of his choices catch up with him, how much in harms way will you be?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I Final

**

Kris tapped his foot impatiently. Why did he have to get this assignment? The idiot in front of him right now was trying to make any deal with him that didn’t involve giving up his soul. Apparently the whole “demon” concept was going over his head.

“Fifty percent of all profits,” the man offered. He was practically on his knees, begging for another alternative, but not quite deterred that he wasn’t walking away.

“Do I look like I care about money?” Kris scoffed. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. Just a second too slow and now he was stuck. He was just about to step through the door to get to his car when Yixing came running up to him, a new file in his hands. Junmyeon was passing on a new assignment. At this point, Kris was starting to think the senior demon was doing all this on purpose, to torture him.

Not that any of the others knew where he was going. “Out” was the only answer he gave. But he still couldn’t refuse a target and so now he was stuck here with this lowlife gangster who just wanted his own little casino empire that would never be caught by the police. That gave him the means to live it large and in luxury. But the bastard was trying to be sneaky. Apparently, no one told him you can’t outsmart the devil.

“Please,” the man begged. “I’ll give you anything else.”

Kris checked his watch. Shit. He was late. Very late. “I don’t have time for this. I’ve made my position clear. If you’re not interested-”

“Okay, okay, okay!” The man scrambled to his feet. “I’ll give it to you, but I want some stipulations drawn up in this contract so you don’t rob me blind.”

Suppressing a groan, Kris waved his hand so a table and two chairs appeared in the otherwise empty alleyway. It was tempting to just set the man on fire and walk away, but he didn’t want to deal with the fallout from his superiors. He just prayed that he could still make it out of there before you gave up on him.

Funny. A demon praying. Who would listen to him?

**

You were running around your house like a chicken with its head cut off. Even though you were sure that he would have no reason to go to your bedroom or the masterbath or several other places, you cleaned every inch of the house you could find from right after breakfast until well after lunch. Now, Kris was supposed to be over in just an hour or so and you were a bit behind on dinner.

Stupid, it was just dinner between colleagues. A thank you for helping you with your inheritance. There was no reason to be so worked up about this.

Calming yourself down, you concentrated on not burning the food. It smelled delicious and your stomach was growling in anticipation. The meal was one of your brother’s favorites; he used to beg you for it all the time, even more so after he got sick, but you figured you wouldn’t tell Kris that little depressing detail.

It was just a few minutes past six and Kris hadn’t arrived yet, but you didn’t get too concerned. As a lawyer, he probably just got caught up with a client and would be around in a bit. Not wanting to overcook anything and ruin all your hard work, you took all the pots off the hot burners and divided out the food onto two plates, setting the table for his arrival.

Resisting the urge to clock watch was hard. You sat at your dining room table, waiting patiently with your back to any clocks within your vicinity.

Well, you wanted to be patient, but you couldn’t resist sneaking peaks at the plain time-keeper hanging from your living room wall. As the clock ticked closer to seven, your earlier enthusiasm was diminishing with it. Fingers tapping against the wood, your eyes would flicker over to the front door at each little car door slam or creak from a screen door. It was always someone else arriving at one of your neighbors’ houses and never your own guest finally showing his face.

The worst part was you had no way to get ahold of Kris. His business card didn’t have an office number on it and you never got his personal cell. Somehow, with living in the current century, the thought of getting his number never occurred to you. Perhaps you’d just put too much faith into him showing for dinner.  

When the clock passed seven-thirty, you gave up. You warmed up your own plate, eating it slowly with just a tiny, still-flickering flame of hope left before packing up the leftovers and cleaning up your mess in the kitchen.

Maybe you’d been too eager. Maybe he decided that dinner was inappropriate. You just wish you’d been told before you put all this effort in for it.

After washing your face and changing out of the nice outfit you’d spent a good amount of time picking from your closet, you settled into bed, turning the TV on to drown out the disappointment.

Maybe he was just too good to be true. You were attracted to him, but maybe you were just desperate to cling onto someone now that you were alone. And you doubted he really felt anything for you beyond a professional relationship.

“Friends,” you whispered to yourself in the darkness of your room, lit only by the blue glow of whatever show was on. “You just need to make new friends. Or get in touch with your old ones.”

Except, you thought you’d already made a new one and look where that got you. Turning over onto your stomach, you groaned into the pillow, feeling like an idiot.

**

A few days later, you needed to go grocery shopping. All the leftovers of your failed dinner were gone and you’d put the trip off so long you were down to the bare minimum supplies. With your extensive list in your pocket, you drove to the oversized supermarket and got to work.

On a Sunday afternoon, the place was fairly busy. Often times you had to wait for someone to move out of the way before grabbing what you needed, extending the time you wished to spend there.

You were looking down at the list, double checking to make sure you didn’t need anything else in this aisle as you walked on when the cart suddenly came to a stop, the push bar colliding with your stomach.

“Ow,” you wheezed, rubbing the sore spot near your hip bone. Looking up, you gasped and then twisted your face into a scowl.

Kris was standing in front of your cart, his hands resting on the edge, making it impossible to move it along. Looking around, there was no one else in the aisle with you, leaving you helpless.

“Can I help you?” you snapped.

He looked defeated at your abrasiveness towards him. “(y/n), I’m sorry about dinner. I got caught up with work and-”

“Okay,” you shrugged. You figured just ending it now would make him go away. You didn’t want him to see how badly your feelings were hurt. Even if it was something out of his hands.

“I really wanted to make it.” He seemed sincere, his eyes glassy with regret. You were never good at holding a grudge anyway.

“You could have contacted me earlier,” you said, begrudgingly already feeling the anger dissipate. God, you were such a bleeding heart.

“The one time I went to your house, you weren’t there,” he explained. “And I couldn’t find you at the shelter.”

“Pitiful excuses,” you murmured. “At least you tracked me down at the grocery store.”

“Let me make it up to you,” Kris pleaded. “Dinner. Tonight. I’ll take you out. My treat.”

Sighing, you looked off to the side. The worst that could happen is you get stood up again. You were sure after a good cry, some ice cream, and a few rom-coms, you’d get over it sooner or later.

“Okay,” you agreed. “Same time?”

The smile on his face melted away any remaining coldness in you towards him. “Absolutely. Thank you.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

Kris pointed to the food in your cart. “Do you need any help-” The watch on his wrist beeped, stopping him before he could finished. Checking the message, he groaned. “Of course.” He threw you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“That’s fine,” you reassured him. “Go on. I’ll… see you tonight.”

He must have heard the still-there uncertainty in your voice when he replied, “You will. For sure this time.”

**

Kris stormed in through the front door. “Alright, what’s the big emergency?”

Sehun and Tao jumped up from where they were sitting on the couch, running up to him.

“Junmyeon’s pissed,” Sehun answered, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb towards the lounge.

“Apparently Jongdae messed up a deal a while back and now the person he was supposed to collect is hiding,” Tao added.

Sehun shook his head. “They’re on their deathbed, but still somehow unreachable.”

Rolling his eyes, Kris stalked past the two maknaes towards the lounge. Junmyeon was sitting in his favorite chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as Jongdae stood in front of him, head hanging low.

“How could you mess up this badly?” Junmyeon asked in that scarily calm voice of his. That was how you knew he was really about to explode. The softer his voice got, the more trouble you were in.

“I’m sorry, Suho,” Jongdae replied shakily. His demon name. Hardly any of them used them except for formal situations. Such as this little meeting.

“You forgot to add the location stipulation,” Junmyeon growled. “It’s one of the most important parts of the contract. It’s in every single deal we make. How could you leave it out?”

Jongdae couldn’t look up to meet his leader’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“I don’t want excuses.” Finally noticing Kris, Junmyeon motioned him further into the room. “Good, you’re here.”

Jongdae shot Kris a pleading look as he passed. Kris put his hands in his pockets, keeping his face neutral. Jongdae was part of his subgroup, the only reason Kris was called here in the first place.

“You rang?” Kris deadpanned.

“Yes,” Junmyeon pushed himself up out the chair. “Jongdae here lost a soul. I need you to go get it.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Even if the poor sucker was still in the city, locating them could take hours, maybe even days if they hid well enough. And Kris would be damned if he was missing tonight. Again.

“No.”

Junmyeon raised an eyebrow, looking up at him. “Excuse me?”

“Jongdae messed up,” Kris motioned to the kid with his head. “He should be the one to fix it. I’m not their babysitter, I’m just supposed to make sure they don’t cause trouble. None of them will learn if I just keep fixing it for them. So, Jongdae is going to go find the asshole. He can take Minseok, he’s good at this stuff. But I’m not doing for him.”

Junmyeon scoffed, unable to argue with Kris’s logic. “Fine. But keep better track of the contracts they’re dishing out. If the Boss hears we’re making stupid mistakes like this, we’re all dead.

Kris shook his head, unable to believe he didn’t have to put up a bigger fight. Typically, what Junmyeon said goes. “We’re not alive anyway.”

“You know what I mean,” Junmyeon growled.

Turning on his heels, Kris stalked out of the lounge.

“Where are you going?” Junmyeon called after him.

“Out!” He needed to avoid the house before something else got shoved his way, making him break his promise to you. And if there’s one thing a demon doesn’t do, its break their promises.

[mischiefandi]

Chapter 5: The Body (Blue Moon Series)

A/N: I totally forgot to do an author’s note wth haha, oh well, enjoy!

Summary: Y/N McCall, Scott McCall’s younger sister, starts her first year at Beacon Hills High School when something unexpected happens to her brother. Her entire world is turned upside down and it is up to her to figure out how to juggle romance, schoolwork, friendship and the supernatural without risking her life (too much)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, Stiles making terrible werewolf puns

Word Count: 7,4 K words

 Chapter 4 & Chapter 6

6:41, McCall House

Derek rushed to Scott and gripped his shoulders before pushing him against the wall of the back of the room in one swift movement, Y/N shrieking as he pulled her with him. Holding the teenager by the neck and pressed against the wall, Derek leaned in close and shook Y/N’s arm slightly as she tried to get a way as best she could, knowing full well her strength would never compare to the werewolf’s.

“I saw you on the field,” hissed Derek and Scott, panicking, huffed heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

“What are you talking about?” wailed Scott.

Y/N’s heart thumped against her ribs as she kept trying to pry her wrist out of Derek’s tightly closed fist. The man suddenly yelled and it made her whole body freeze, tension running through it at his words.

“You shifted in front of them! If they find out what you are, they find out about me, about all of us-” he started but Y/N cut him off.

“-let us go! Stop!” she exclaimed, as she tried to kick him in the leg but he didn’t even wince at the contact of her foot against the crook of his knee, his only reaction being twisting her wrist. She groaned and whimpered, her mouth ridden of any words she was planning to say.

“And then it’s not just the hunters after us, it’s everyone.”

Scott tried his best to exhale but to no avail, Derek’s thumb pressing against his windpipe.

“They- didn’t see anything, I swear!” he tried to convince his aggressor.

“And they won’t. Because if you even try to play in that game on Saturday,” he turned to look at a terrified yet clearly angry Y/N, “I’ll kill her.”

After those terrorizing words slipped from his lips, Derek let go of both of the McCalls and jumped out of the window carelessly. Scott fell to the ground, wheezing. Y/N sat on the bed and tried to slow her rapid heartbeat, face flushed and eyes wide.

“Holy shit,” whispered Stiles and she sent him a glare through the webcam.

“Holy shit? Holy shit? Seriously? This is the guy that killed that girl in the woods? This is Derek Hale?” she exclaimed, furious with both her brother and the boy with his mouth left agape.

“In the flesh…”

“Oh my god. What in god’s name did you get yourselves into?” she whined, letting her back fall onto the bed with a quiet thump.

“I think you already know the answer to that Y/N, otherwise you wouldn’t be in this room right now.”

She immediately turned her head to the laptop and Stiles regretted his previous sentence. She got up and walked towards the computer, pointing slightly at the webcam.

“No. You do not get to be a smartass right now Stiles. I’m going to die because of you, dickheads!” She shot around to meet Scott’s eyes.

“And you. You are not playing on Saturday. I don’t care what Allison says, what mom says, I don’t give the slightest crap what Coach says. You are not even going to sit in the bleachers. Got it?” she said, seething.

“Got it,” answered a petrified Scott, still lying against the wall.

“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower. Try not to set the house on fire or conjure up a ghost while I’m gone please.” And she walked out.

“I don’t know who’s more lethal, Derek or your sister.”

Friday, 12:34, Beacon Hills Indoor Cafeteria

A week had gone by since the incident in Scott’s bedroom. Classes were long and tiresome, homework was demanding and time-consuming. However, school was the least of her worries. Unfortunately, even a week hadn’t been long enough for Derek’s traumatizing words to erase themselves from Y/N’s memory, let alone for them to lose their importance in her mind. He was dangerous, that much was clear, and what was even more dangerous about the teenagers’ situation was the fact that they knew nothing about him. All she could think about as her teachers droned on about the concept of democracy and French irregular verbs was- well…literally everything.

Stiles had spent the whole week trying to listen in on the Sheriff department’s calls and he had even tried to log on his father’s computer. The password having unfortunately been changed, his plans had fallen through. He had also spent quite few hours bringing Y/N up to speed with everything that had happened since that fateful night when Scott got bitten. She thanked him, knowing however that the extra information hadn’t given her the feel of peace she thought she would get, instead, it just made her even more anxious.

First of all, because now she knew just how positively dead they were, secondly, because this meant she had more to keep from Carrie. She felt terrible about Carrie being left in the dark about all of this. Truth be told, she wanted more than anything to come clean about her latest “adventures”, hell, even just to ask for advice. How was she supposed to deal with this alone?

“But you’re not alone,” Stiles had told her after she had tried convincing him and her brother to give her permission to tell Carrie the truth. They didn’t get it though. Obviously, they were in on this too, they knew what was going on and they had assured that she was a part of “Wolfie Club” as Stiles had jokingly called it. But still, she felt alone. She needed her friend.

That kind of secret was a burden that her little shoulders just couldn’t carry on her own. One could argue that she didn’t have to listen to her brother and friend, but she was loyal and once promises had been spoken, they had to be kept. No point in discussing it any further.

So the fifteen year old girl sat in her seat at lunch that Friday ignoring Stiles and Scott’s banter, wondering to herself how on earth she was going to manage holding her tongue, helping them out and not imploding due to the giant ball of stress and fear growing in her abdomen, all at the same time.

“-right? Y/N?”

“What?” Y/N snapped out of her daze.

“You agree with me right? We have to find the body. Well- the top part,” said Stiles, tripping over his words.

“I’m sorry, can we rewind?” she asked, rubbing at her forehead.

“Stiles’ dad just installed a curfew. He’s looking for the murderer-” said Scott until Stiles interrupted him hurriedly.

“-meanwhile we know who the killer is!”

“Stiles, we can’t just tell your dad what we know,’ said Y/N.

“Which is exactly why we need to look for proof so that we can get Derek arrested for his crimes and so we don’t need to deal with his death threats anymore!”

Stiles leaned back in his seat and bit excessively at his apple, his anxiety obviously through the roof right then. Y/N felt bad for him. She had been so busy thinking about how this whole “thing” affected her, not even taking a minute to realize the fact that her best friend was probably about to overdose on Adderall.

“Well, yeah, okay I agree but how? I mean it’s not like you’re the best sleuth in the world Sti, you can’t even shut up for more than ten seconds, let alone sneak around in a house with a murderer slash werewolf hot on your trail.”

Stiles sniffed and bit his lip as he furiously tapped his knee against the edge of the cafeteria table. He turned to Scott who was picking at his pasta in silence.

“Hey did you talk to Coach about tomorrow?”

“Yeah…”

“Scott…are you or are you not playing tomorrow night?” questioned Y/N, feeling her heart beat a little faster by the minute.

“I- I don’t know.” Stiles and Y/N scoffed and groaned but he threw his hands up in defense.

“You don’t understand! Allison’s coming to the game, so is Mom! And Lydia said I had to play or she’d introduce Allison to the other players.”

“Let her! Jesus, Scott! You’re seriously picking your one week long girlfriend over your sister’s life and safety?”

“And yours?” added Stiles, bewildered and annoyed.

“And the poor kid’s life?” hissed Y/N, noticing that people were starting to turn their heads in their direction.

“Who’s?”

“The kid who’s gonna find himself at the wrong place at the wrong time and who’s either going to die or bleed. A lot,” she said angrily.

“Okay, okay! There’s a lot on the line. I know that.”

Scott slumped back into his seat and closed his eyes. Stiles and Y/N shared a look and frowned.

“Look, we’re sorry about this. Okay? It’s not fair. But you don’t have a choice Scott.”

“She’s right Scott. I’m sorry.”

Scott looked down and sighed but nodded.

“Guess I should tell Allison then,” he said before pushing away his tray and sliding his arm in the strap of his backpack as he walked away.

Y/N sighed and mournfully looked at her club sandwich, still neatly placed in her paper plate. Stiles munched on a large piece of apple as he turned to her and stopped when he noticed her plate.

“Hey, you haven’t even touched that. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Really?”

He chuckled and tilted his head in agreement.

“Okay, maybe we are experiencing our fair share of problems right now but is that all this is?”

Y/N paused and looked down at her lap.

“I’ve been a little distant from Carrie ever since this weekend.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t even look at her without wanting to spill everything about Scott. I mean, you guys are lucky. You’ve got each other, you’re a pair.” Stiles opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off before he could. “And- don’t say that’s not true because you know that it is.  Sti, you’re my best friend and Scott’s my brother, but you guys are brothers as well.

“I can spend as much time with you two as I want, it’s never gonna change the fact that my relationship with you is different from your relationship with Scott. And it’s okay. I don’t mind, I realized that a long time ago. But it means that you’re a pair and I’m a single. I have Carrie, but I can’t bring her into all of this.”

“You can’t be a pair,” said Stiles, nodding his head slowly.

“I can’t be a pair.” Y/N bit her lip as he reached for her hand and cupped it with his own.

“I’m sorry that you can’t tell her all about this, Blue. I really am. I wish you could. Maybe one day, Scott’ll tell you he’s okay with it but for now, it does have to stay between us.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

Y/N squeezed his hand and let go of it, reaching for her sandwich and digging in.

4:02, McCall House

After school, Y/N rode home on her bike and let it fall on the grass of the front lawn, too tired to prop it against the wall of the house. Walking up the stairs after having gotten a water bottle from the fridge, she took out her phone and tapped on the Messages app.

Y/N: hey Car i missed u this week. wanna hang this weekend? watch dumb romcoms and have pizza?

Y/N walked into her room and sat down on her bed, pulling off her little black boots from her sore feet as she yawned. This week had simply been exhausting. Suddenly, she heard her phone emit a ding and she turned it on in a flash hoping it would be Carrie.

Scott: I found something guys, both of you come to my room asap

Y/N didn’t hesitate and went straight into Scott’s room, shutting the door behind her, a pang of disappointment floating around her stomach. She turned around and saw what Scott was doing.

“What happened to your lacrosse stick?” she gasped, rushing towards him and snatching it away from him.

“I went to see Derek,” he answered, looking at his stick, more precisely, at the torn net.

“Why?”

“He’s messing with Allison. I think he’s going to hurt her if we don’t act fast.”

Y/N raised the stick and her eyebrow simultaneously at him.

“He doesn’t know you have replacement string, does he?”

“I think it was more so to prove a point.”

“Ah.”

She sat on the floor next to his bed, looking up at him as he shifted over his covers.

“So, what did-“

“-what did you find? How did you find it? Where did you find it? And, yes, I’ve had a lot of Adderall, so-,” Stiles said quickly and loudly as he entered running into Scott’s bedroom. He stopped, heaving and blinking his eyes a couple of times before trying to catch his breath.

“I found something at Derek Hale’s,” answered Scott.

“Are you kidding? What?” interrogated Stiles before turning to Y/N and taking a step back as though he hadn’t seen her, “Oh hey Y/N.”

“Hi?” she replied, the corners of her mouth quirking up a bit at his hyperactive behavior.

“There’s something buried there– I could smell blood,” Scott answered, screwing his nose up a bit.

“Wait what?”

“That’s awesome! I mean that’s terrible. Who’s blood?”

“I don’t know. But when we do, your dad nails Derek for the murder. And then, you guys help me figure out a way to play lacrosse without changing. Because there’s no way I’m not playing that game.” Scott got up as Y/N nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” she said, pensively.

“We need gloves, a night vision camera, binoculars-“

“-Stiles, we’re not the FBI,” laughed Scott.

“And besides, we’re not going to Derek’s. At least not right now,” Y/N said with an all-knowing look on her face.

“Rrrright,” Stiles said, nodding, “where are we going then?”

“We’re going to the hospital,” she answered the confused boy and Scott and him shared a look as she started explaining her plan.

5:16, Beacon Hills Hospital

Y/N walked into the main hall of the Beacon Hills hospital clutching her wrist with her other hand. After a few minutes of taking the elevator and finding her way, she treaded lightly to her right and peeked at the front desk on the second floor. Sure enough, her mom was there. Sliding her phone out from her back pocket, Y/N quickly typed in a message, hit send and put it away before walking towards Melissa who was busy answering calls.

“Hey, mom,” she said, stepping right into her eyeshot. The nurse looked up and smiled.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” she asked warmly before getting up and making her way around the front desk.

“I hurt my wrist wrestling with Stiles- long story, and I can’t move it much without it being really painful. Could you take a look at it?” she asked, praying she would say yes.

“Well, I’m not really supposed to do consultations for patients without an actual doctor present,” Melissa said, wincing a little and Y/N’s heart sank. “Let’s go.”

She beamed and kissed her mom on the cheek before following her into a patient room a few feet away, looking over her shoulder and winking.

“Okay, let’s do this,” said Stiles as he got her signal, motioning at Scott to go ahead. They both walked slowly in the direction of the front desk and Stiles turned to a certain door. He nodded.

“Good luck, I guess,” he said as Scott pushed the door open and slipped inside, the letters MORGUE written in bold white just a few centimeters away from an arrow pointing in the direction of where he had just gone.

Scott walked into an empty corridor and kept walking until he reached the morgue, a sign on the door signaling that this was where he needed to be. The teenager went inside and started opening the different metal doors, desperately trying to find what he was looking for and scared out of his mind. His heart thumped harshly against his ribcage and he couldn’t help but start hyperventilating when he slid a tray out. On it lay a body covered with a white cloth. Well, technically, half a body.

“Oh god, Y/N, why?” he asked under his breath as he grimaced and flipped the corners of the cloth off the cadaver. A strong scent of blood and slowly rotting flesh filled his nostrils as his eyes landed on the dirty and cold feet of the victim. He could barely stand the smell, it was just too strong and too foul, almost beastly. It was disgusting but Scott concentrated and his eyebrows raised when he recognized it.

Not even bothering to cover the bottom half of the body up again, he slid the tray back in, shut the metal door and ran out of the room, the terrifying image and the gruesome scent following him. When he got to the waiting room, his eyes fell on Stiles, seemingly busy reading what appeared to be a pamphlet on menstruation and he went to tell him he was done.

“Holy god!” exclaimed Stiles when Scott grabbed the pamphlet from his clampy hands.

“The scent was the same.”

“You sure?” asked Stiles as he got up.

“Yes.”

“So he did bury the other half of the body on his property.”

“Which means we have proof he killed the girl,” Scott said, nodding his head.

“Okay we have to text Y/N, let her know the coast is clear. Let’s go.”

Y/N’s phone emitted a ding and she suddenly shot up as her mom felt her arm and wrist.

“You know what, mom, it’s getting better. Besides you have a lot of work to do so I’m just gonna go.” Melissa looked at her and frowned, wondering why she was in such a sudden rush to leave.

“Okay, well, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong. If you’re still feeling sore, put some ice on it and it should get better from there.”

“Great, thank you, I love you!” said Y/N hurriedly before pulling the door open and rushing out of the patient room, leaving her mom alone and puzzled.

“Huh.”

“So, was it the same?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“So, the body’s what you were smelling! That’s good news, great even. We can finally get rid of him and get that girl justice,” said Y/N, grinning widely.

“Okay so what do we now?” Scott asked.

“We’re going to Derek’s,” answered Stiles, determined. Y/N nodded.

“We’re gonna need shovels,” she added and Stiles clicked his tongue in agreement. It made her quite happy to know that they were on the same page practically all the time, they rarely disagreed over important things and that gave her a sense of partnership and teamwork she simple loved.

11:56, Hale House, Woods

Derek’s black car gleamed in the moonlight as it drove away from the clearing where the Hale house stood. After a few minutes, a baby blue jeep took its previous spot and the ignition was turned off. The three teenagers left the car, slamming the doors shut behind them and they started to walk towards the house.

“It was around here somewhere when I came earlier,” Scott said, gesturing at a spot a few feet away from the left side of the house.

“I low-key can’t believe we’re about to dig out a human body,” said Y/N as she grabbed a shovel from her brother’s hand and he nodded with a hum.

“It’s weird though, something feels different,” he said, contemplating the ground.

“Different how?” asked Stiles, stopping his first dig mid-movement.

“I don’t know.” Scott walked closer towards the spot he had pointed at minutes earlier and pushed his shovel in the humid ground. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Agreed. I am not spending one minute more than necessary here. Fucking creeps me out,” Y/N said, shuddering as she started digging on Scott’s right.

The three dug for a while, time slow and taunting as their arms felt heavier and their muscles ached. They didn’t speak during that time, the only sounds besides the incessant scraping of the shovels in the dirt were their grunts and groans as they kept going. No one talked until finally, Scott paused to wipe his brow and spoke.

“This is taking too long,” he said.

“Just keep going.”

“What if he comes back?” asked Y/N, stopping to properly look over at Stiles who was still going at it.

“Then we get the hell out of here,” Stiles answered.

“What if he catches us?” Scott questioned, his brows furrowed in confusion and anxiety.

Stiles shrugged and looked ahead but kept going, digging his shovel in the ground as deep as possible.

“I have a plan for that.”

“Which is?”

He grunted and waved his shovel in the air, almost banging Y/N on the forehead with the metal object.

“You run one way, I’ll run the other, so does Y/N. Whoever he catches first, too bad,” he said, shrugging before starting to dig again.

“I hate that plan,” whined Scott.

Y/N nodded with a neutral expression on her face after having given the so called “plan” a thought.

“Actually, I second it.”

“You seriously think you could outrun Derek?” inquired her brother with a smirk as Stiles scoffed.

“I don’t have to outrun Derek, I just have to outrun one of you.”

“Touché.”

The three of them chuckled before Y/N spoke again.

“This is really starting to bore the crap out o-”

“-alright stop, stop, stop!” exclaimed Stiles when he felt the edge of his shovel touch something a little harder than the humid soil beneath their feet. Y/N’s breath hitched as both the boys let go of their shovels and bent down to start digging with their hands.

Their dirty fingers unraveled some string and they both looked at each other, puzzled.

“Okay just get whatever that is above ground, guys, he’ll be back any minute now,” Y/N whispered, her heart beating faster and faster by the minute.

Sure, they had done some pretty cool and forbidden stuff before like when they hung out in the principal’s office when Scott and Stiles were in the 7thgrade at night or like that one time when they had hidden in the storage room of a comic book store downtown for hours before the manager had found them. Those times had definitely made their pulses raise, but they were nothing like what the teenagers were experiencing right then. This was some other level.

“I’m trying. Did he have to tie this thing in like, 900 knots?” said Stiles, hissing lightly as his long fingers desperately tried to untie the string.

“I’ll do it.” Scott knelt further down to help him and sure enough, together, they managed. Opening up the package by pulling off the dirty material, their eyes fell upon a dead black dog.

Scratch that, it was too big to be a dog.

“Oh my god!” yelled out Scott, jumping backwards and landing on his backside, groaning at the impact with the ground.

Y/N shrieked and looked away, covering her mouth and moving her legs in a squeamish fashion as though she were urgently in need of going to the bathroom. Stiles meanwhile gagged and fell back alongside his best friend all the while cursing.

“What the hell is that?” he exclaimed, gesturing towards the disgusting and morbid thingin the hole they had just dug up.

“It’s a wolf,” said Scott, staring at the dead animal with disgust yet curiosity.

“Yeah I can see that!”

“Cover it up, please, please cover it back up Scott!” Y/N whined, trying her best not to throw up due to the vile smell.

Scott shook his head just as he was about to tell her they had to inspect it but Stiles cut him off before he could even utter her name.

“I thought you said you smelled blood? As in human blood?” said Stiles, annoyed and confused all at once.

Y/N was completely bewildered by what they had just discovered. Why had Derek buried a wolf? Was it a werewolf? If so, had he been a member of the pack? Was it a she? Thousands of questions swam around her head and she almost felt woozy as she tried to focus on one.

“I told you something was different.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” said Stiles as he closed his eyes.

“We gotta get out of here.”

“No! We can’t!” Y/N exclaimed, ignoring the rotten stench coming from the hole.

“Why not?” asked Scott.

“Because! You’re not telling me you’re not even a little curious as to why this is here?”

“No, honestly Blue, we have to go, like, now.Scott, help me cover this up.”

Y/N groaned as she shook her head, rolling her eyes before turning and gasping a little. Her gaze had rested on a flower, partially hidden in the earth, the deep purple petals barely visible through the humid soil.

“What is it?” inquired Scott as she started to walk away from them and towards the curious flora, almost hypnotized by its beauty. “Y/N?”

Y/N ignored him and bringing two fingers down to the stem of the flower, she tugged lightly. Only the flower didn’t detach itself from its roots. Instead, they left their earthy cage with it.

A long line of string followed and Y/N, perplexed, looked over at the teenage boys who were staring at the plant in her hand.

“What the-?”

“-Y/N, don’t touch that!”

“Ugh, it’s fine. I haven’t turned to a big pool of green slime okay? Give the dad talk a rest.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow and she brushed it off, instead inspecting the flower. It really was mesmerizing. Tiny little light green leaves stuck out the side of it and it offered contrast with the purple color of the flower itself.

“What is so special about this flower?” Y/N asked herself. She felt drawn to it, but as to why? She had no clue.

“Not to interrupt your newfound passion for herbology but we really should go. If Derek finds us here, we’re dog food.”

Scott slapped Stiles’ chest with the back of his hand and glared at him.

“Well what? Dog food is more fitting than toast in this case.”

The glare didn’t cease and Y/N snorted, looking away from them only to start inspecting the string attached to the plant in her hands.

“Agree to disagree.”

“Hey guys?”

“What?”

Y/N slowly backed away from the place she had found the flower all the while staring at the tiny hole in the soil and treaded lightly. Their eyes widened as more and more string left the confines of the earth, leaving a concave trace on the ground but Y/N didn’t stop. Her heart thumped in her chest and she kept going, walking behind Scott and Stiles then making a whole turn around them. And another, and another, and another one after that. Finally, the string came to an end and Y/N looked up, confused. She squinted her eyes at the traces left beneath her feet when Scott spoke up.

“Look,” he said, simply, staring at the grave they had just dug up.

Both Stiles and Y/N rushed over and what their eyes landed on sent a chill down their spines in a matter of seconds, Y/N’s veins turning to ice.

The animal they had found was no longer a wolf, it was a woman. Her top half to be exact.

“Oh shit!” screamed Y/N. “Okay that’s it! We’re out of here.”

“We have to cover it up,” murmured Stiles, his stare not leaving the corpse’s void-filled eyes.

“Yeah, let’s do that, but we have to move fast. Y/N, pass me the shovel!”

She did as she was told and hurried as she grabbed her own, immediately getting to it.

“D’you know what this means?”

“We’ve got him by the tail,” answered Stiles.

“Dude!”

Saturday, 4 pm, McCall House

Soft music played through the small orange speaker on Y/N’s dresser as she absentmindedly tapped the end of her pencil on her desk, her tired eyes staring into an abyss while she tugged at her bottom lip with her fingers.

Her empty thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing. Stiles’ name flashed on the screen as the Star Wars bar theme played and she frowned, picking it up swiftly and bringing it up to her ear to answer the call. “Stiles?”

“I lost Scott.”

“You what?”she exclaimed, jumping out of her seat, her whole body tensing.

“It’s not a big deal! But yes, I- uh- lost him…”

“I can’t believe you Stiles. Remind me never to leave you alone with my future kids.”

“Hey, I will have you know that Mrs. Terry was very satisfied with my babysitting ski-“

“-yeah yeah, where are you right now?”

“Woods.”

“Okay, where did you lose him?”

“Woods.”

“Details, Stiles!”

“I had the string with the purple flowers in my bag when we left Derek’s after my dad arrested him and Scott said he couldn’t breathe so I ran out and threw the bag away and I turned around and he was gone! Poof!”explained Stiles, breathlessly.

“Poof?”she repeated, seething with anger.

“Poof?”

“I’m gonna kill you Stiles.”

“Look, I’m gonna call him right now, okay? Just try calling the Sheriff’s department, they don’t take me as seriously as they used to.”

“When did they ever?”she said before hanging up and dialing 911.

“Sheriff’s station, what’s your emergency?”

“Maggie! Hey! It’s Y/N, McCall?”

“Did you Stiles put you up to this?”

“No! What? Just- it’s Scott, we can’t find him-,”

“The Sheriff’s department’s got too much on its plate to worry about your game of hide and seek Y/N, have a good day.”

“No! Wai-“ Y/N shrieked but it was too late, the deputy had hung up.

“Good thing I wasn’t calling about a killer in my house,” she grumbled as she slipped into a dark blue pair of jeans and a grey tank top. She grabbed her maroon sweatshirt and her phone before hurrying out the door. She had to find her brother, before it was too late.

6:55 pm, Beacon Hills High School

Y/N’s muscles ached as she sped on her bike, riding as fast as possible in the direction of the high school, the last place Scott could be at. She had ridden all around the town, scraping her knees and burning thousands of calories as she called out her brother’s name, desperately trying to find him. She had been to Stiles’ house, she had gone to Deaton’s, Scott’s boss. She had called her mom to check if Scott was over at the hospital with her, she had been to the comic book store all the way across town. She had literally ridden every square inch of Beacon Hills but the school and she was sweaty, angry and exhausted.

Grumbling profanities and wiping at her brow, Y/N pulled into the parking lot of her school, shivering slightly due to the cool night air and she set down her bicycle, wasting no time to rush over to the lacrosse field.

“I swear you better be here, Scott,” she mumbled.

Sure enough, Stiles and Scott were there, standing next to their coach as he yelled out their strategy, making some of the players on the team groan and whine.

Y/N didn’t even stop to think but instead rushed over to them and pushed Stiles aside.

“What the hell Stiles?”

“Hey Y/N! Oh my god! I’m so sorry, we just completely forg-“

“-you sent me on a wild goose hunt and didn’t even bother to call me to tell me you had found him! What the hell is your problem?”

“I’m sorry, Blue.”

“You’re sorry? Not good enough. My legs are sore and I am this close to crying from pure exhaustion Stiles.”

“Y/N-“

“-I’m not done talking! I swear to God, if your team doesn’t win the game tonight, I will make it my personal mission to stuff your lacrosse jersey down your throat and do the same thing to Scott.”

“Are you done now?”

“Yes,” she huffed, crossing her arms and exhaling as her shoulders untensed.

“And that is how you motivate a bunch of horny imbecile teenagers! Give it up for- I’m sorry, what’s your name, sweetheart?”

Y/N whirled around only to realize the entire team was staring at her, each and every one of the players utterly shocked and confused as to why she was on the field in the first place.

“Y/N,” she answered, her cheeks reddening immediately. “Good talk,” she added before walking away with clenched fists, a bottomless pit forming in her stomach.

“Oh god,” she muttered under her breath as she walked over to the bleachers and walked a little further up, seating herself right next to a tall and very pretty brunette.

“Do you know him?” asked the gorgeous girl, turning to her.

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you know that guy? Over there? Number eleven?””

“Oh yeah, he’s my brother,” answered Y/N, coolly.

“You’re Y/N?” she asked, a beam painted across her face, making her rosy cheeks wrinkle a bit.

“Uh yeah, and you’re Allison?”

“Scott told you about me?”

“Something like that,” she said, smiling sheepishly. The fact was, ever since the truth had come out over Scott’s new powers, he hadn’t shut up about his new girlfriend, Allison. Both Stiles and Y/N had been shocked and intrigued by the news, wondering how in God’s name Scott had managed to score a date with her in the first place, much to his dismay.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” said Allison, extending her hand, timidly.

“Nice to meet you, Allison,” said Y/N, smiling a little wider this time as she shook it.

Scott’s new girlfriend was extremely warm, her friendliness immensely agreeable. Y/N couldn’t help but want to strike up a conversation but she stopped herself from saying anything, too afraid of scaring her away.

Y/N searched for some familiar faces and found her mother who was waving at Scott with a huge smile on her face. Of course she had come, it was his first big game. She sat on the first bench and set down her handbag. Y/N exhaled slowly. It was at that moment that a certain strawberry blonde seated next to Allison turned her head to her.

“It’s good that your brother chose to step up and play. I hope he makes this game worth our while.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Y/N muttered under her breath, looking over at the field. Jackson was talking to the coach and Stiles had just sat down in front of the field, obviously looking in the same direction as her. Scott was standing next to the other players on his team and staring back at her. She couldn’t really see his eyes but gripping the edge of the bench on which she was seated, she mouthed something to him.

‘You can do this’

Scott nodded and cracked his neck before placing himself in the right position. The ref blew the whistle. It was go-time.

The ball immediately filled the nets of the Beacon Hills players and for a while, everything seemed to be okay. But something was off. As the maroon players ran around the field, slowly approaching their opponents’ goal, Scott trailed up behind.

“What is he doing?” she asked herself.

Then suddenly, number 10 found himself surrounded by two whites and he cowered, the ball flying out of his net and onto the grass a few feet away due to the force of the opposing team’s defense. Scott whirled his head around, his wide eyes resting on the little white ball and he dove in, ready to catch it with his net. He ran but Jackson caught up with him and shoved him away, grabbing the ball and heading towards the ball.

“They’re keeping him from playing,” she muttered, her eyes fixated on the scene unfolding before the crowd.

Speaking of the crowd, an eruption of cheers echoed through the stands as Shitmore scored and a red digital 1 showed up on the scoreboard right under the letters HOME. Y/N shook her head and cursed under her breath.

“Asshole.”

Allison and Lydia both got up and held up a large banner with the words WE LUV U JACKSON as they whooped and Y/N rolled her eyes, focusing on the field. She tried to catch Scott’s eyes but he was staring at Jackson. Yep, he had probably seen the banner.

“This isn’t good…”

The team huddled up but the teenager stayed away, looking at them with anger seeping through his eyes. The whistle blew once, signaling the game was about to pick up again. Every player got into position, including Scott, and soon the ref blew his whistle again.

White and maroon jerseys ran towards the player with the ball in his net and he sprinted away aiming at his friend. Each person on the field was in motion, the cool breeze of the night blowing softly through their hair as they accelerated their swift movements, trying desperately to catch the ball with their long sticks. Groans and cheers, oohs and aahs and gasps escaped the mouths of the people in the stands and Y/N’s muscles tensed as she heard Allison talk to Lydia.

“I hope he’s okay,” the beautiful brunette said, looking over at Scott who was hunching his back.

“I hope we’re okay,” said Lydia and Y/N almost snapped.

Standing up yet again, Lydia held up another banner, Jackson’s name followed by a #1 drawn onto it with a sharpie. Y/N’s eyes widened and her head snapped in Scott’s direction. He was going to be furious.

Sure enough, the young werewolf had seen it and cracking his neck again, he straightened his back and stood in front of the white player, both at the ready to catch the ball. The shrill sound of the whistle blew and Scott blocked his opponent’s attempt at taking the ball, sending it flying into the night sky.

He moved in a matter of seconds and took a leap, jumping over another player and catching the ball in his net, taking a run for it. The crowd erupted in cheers and Allison gasped, clapping furiously and beaming.

Scott kept going, avoiding the visitors’ defense and pushing away his attackers, passing through a wall of players and shoving their shoulders with his own. Getting just close enough to score, he didn’t hesitate and motioned his net to the ground, throwing the ball right into the opponent’s goal.

The entire stands jumped up, screaming his jersey number, and applauding his swift moves on the field as the players on his team rushed to him to clap their hands on his back.

Y/N squealed and yelled out his name as her eyes widened in pleasant shock.

Maybe it was all going to be okay in the end.

Stiles was cheering as well along with the other benched players and the team’s coach started yelling out instructions to his players.

“Pass to McCall! Pass the ball to McCall! Hey, that rhymes.”

The game resumed and Scott was on fire. He passed more players and scored more points, running from one goal to the next, blowing everyone’s mind with his talent and athletic prowess. One opposing player even passed him the ball at one point, obviously terrified of him.

The end of the game was nearing, there were only a few seconds left on the clock. The stands were quiet for the first time in the whole duration of the game. Y/N exhaled, incredibly nervous. She glanced down at Stiles who was literally chewing on his gloves, his own eyes fixated on Scott.

The ball was sent to him and the teenager caught it with ease, making his way to the goal. But he stopped.

From afar, he seemed to be looking for a bee buzzing around him, his head turning and moving quickly and strangely. It was like he couldn’t situate himself.

“Scott,” murmured Y/N. “Scott, focus.”

His ears perked up and he looked over at the stands only to see his sister and Allison were both muttering words of encouragement in his favor. He breathed heavily and straightened his back before looking ahead. The goalie seemed terrified, gripping his stick with terror.

Scott raised his arms and sent the ball flying towards the net. Time stopped. Then, the whistle blew for the last time.

Everyone screamed and cheered, waving their maroon banners in the air and chanting “McCall!” over and over again.

“That’s my kid! That’s my son!” exclaimed Melissa, gasping for air as she raised her fists in the air and arched her back.

Stiles ran towards the field and jumped up and down, screaming his head off and everyone followed. The game had been won. Scott had scored for his team, they had won! All thanks to him.

Y/N could barely believe it as she ran down the steps of the bleachers and onto the field to join the cheerful crowd. She joined Stiles and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in a tight hug as they both laughed and whooped.

“Oh my god! Scott?” called out Y/N, searching for her brother through the crowd.

“Scott?”

Stiles and Y/N looked around but no trace of the young werewolf could be seen. Turning to each other, their faces turning white as sheets, they both ran off in the direction of the woods, calling out his name over and over again.

Y/N’s heart was beating so fast, she could practically feel a dent in her skin above her ribs as she ran and yelled for him. Stiles grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the school, running as fast possible.

Rushing through the corridors, Stiles yanked Y/N into the boys locker room but pulled her back immediately.

“What are y-,” Y/N was about to ask when he cupped his hand over her mouth and pulled her a little further into the shadows of the dark room. Bringing a finger up to his mouth, he looked straight into her eyes and she shivered. They were pressed against each other, her body squeezed between her friend and the lockers. The moment was interrupted however when his gaze left her own and he peeked at the scene behind said lockers.

He let her go and straightened her tank top. She looked at him, puzzled.

That was when Allison walked towards them and blushed, her lips a little redder than they had been at the game and her hair untidy.

“Hey, Stiles, Y/N,” she said, smiling timidly as she passed them and left the room, the sound of her boots resonating in the hall as she left the perimeter.

Both Stiles and Y/N made their way around the lockers only to find Scott. He looked proud and a goofy smile was plastered on his face as he waved at them, sheepishly.

“Hey.”

Y/N shook her head and laughed, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Oh thank God,” she said.

“I kissed her.”

“We saw.” Stiles smiled all-knowingly at his best friend.

“She kissed me.”

“Saw that too.”

“It’s pretty good huh?”

Scott couldn’t stop grinning as Stiles patted him on the back and Y/N’s lips curled into a smile.

Scott’s eyes suddenly widened and he smiled even wider.

“I-I don’t know how, but I controlled it. I pulled it back! Maybe I can do this, maybe it’s not that bad!” he exclaimed.

“Uh, yeah, about that.”

“What, what is it?” asked Scott, his eyes turning to his sister.

“The, uh, medical examiner looked at the other half of the body we found,” explained Stiles, his face turning a little dark.

“And?”

“He determined that the victim’s killer was an animal, not a human…”

“Which means, what?”

“Derek is not an animal.”

“Yes?”

“Let me keep it simple, Scott. Derek not animal. Derek thus, not killer. Derek let out of jail,” said Y/N, exasperated.

“Are you kidding?” exclaimed Scott, fear flashing through his eyes.

“No, and here’s the bigger kick in the ass.”

“The victim was ID’d. Her name is Laura Hale.”

“Derek’s sister…”

Scott gasped and shook his head.

“This can’t be happening!”

The three of them stared at the floor when Y/N spoke up.

“But you kissed Allison!”

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