#like she tells herself in FO that she should’ve been walking out and then you get on the next album the bravest thing I ever did was run

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

I love how Taylor writes about leaving as an act of self-preservation.

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Converse are dress shoes!

Pairing: Gary Green x Nicole Blake

Warning: takes place at a wedding reception but the wedding isn’t the main focus; brief mention of alcohol

Tag List: @hyperionshipping @connor-roys @thatghoulboi @the-dark-fae-and-her-fos @speedstershipping @silverhardt

Nic let out a nervous laugh as she walked backwards away from the person she was desperate to get away from. Not only was it a dead end conversation but the guy had spent the last 5 minutes staring at her cleavage. Damn push-up bra. She never should’ve let Alison talk her into it.

“I’m gonna go get another drink. It was good talking to you,” she said with a faux smile. As she faced away from the man and was ready to make a beeline for the finger-foods, she immediately bumped into another body. The glass in her hand tipped over, spilling its contents all over their shirt. She swore under her breath, fumbling to set the glass down and grab a napkin from a nearby table. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” She started to wipe the wet spot on the shirt. “I should’ve been looking–”

“Nic?” Asked a familiar voice, and when she looked up she felt a heat rising up her neck. Her ears were already burning as she could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

“Gary, oh my god. I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking,” she rambled. “It’s just water, though.”

“It’s no big deal,” he told her nonchalantly, waving a hand. “It won’t stain. Good thing it’s not wine!”

Nic laughed nervously, this time out of embarrassment. “Yeah, it’s actually harder to get wine stains out of clothes than blood.” Gary looked at her confused, and she mentally kicked herself. “I mean with our line of work we should be used to blood on occasion. Plus I’ve been a female my whole life so…” She cleared her throat awkwardly and realized she was still wiping his shirt. Quickly she snatched the napkin close to her chest and looked away, hoping for an out. Socializing was not her strong suit. She wracked her brain trying to remember all the tips her therapist helped her with for social skills.

“You look really nice, by the way!” Gary told her. “I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

“Oh thanks.” She smiled bashfully. “I don’t like dresses so I don’t usually wear them. This one’s too long though.”

“Why’d you wear it then?”

Nic gave him a sly grin and reached a hand down to slowly pull the skirt of her dress up to reveal her footwear.

“Are those converse?” Gary asked.

She nodded and let go of the fabric, the skirt hiding her shoes. “Yep.”

“But I thought the invitation said to dress formal, meaning dress shoes.”

“Converse are dress shoes!” She insisted.

“If you say so.” He grinned. “How about I go get you another drink?”

“You don’t have to since I’m the one who spilt it on you.”

“It’s no biggie,” he told her. “Besides, we can keep talking and do a little strategizing for tomorrow’s game.” Nic had completely forgotten they had a D&D session tomorrow night. “We’re still trying to find that Beholder but I know we’re close.” He picked up the empty glass. Gary leaned in a little and lowered his voice. “And I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Razesayer is gonna use his portion of the bounty to take Xena on a date,” he informed her excitedly, referring to the romance between their characters in the game. He winked before walking off to get her another glass.

As soon as he was facing away, Nic took a deep breath and gently fanned herself with the napkin. She prayed to the D&D gods that he couldn’t tell she was blushing. Her mind played out the session that hadn’t even happened yet and whether or not they’d even get the opportunity to play out the date. They’d probably have to wait another week depending on what happened. But she felt butterflies in her stomach, and a part of her heart tugged as she yearned for it to be an actual date between her and Gary.

They had been seated at separate tables, but that didn’t stop Nic from sneaking glances at him throughout dinner. She was much more interested in Gary wearing a bow tie than she was about whatever work gossip her colleagues at the same table were talking about. She absentmindedly ate through her entire meal, barely noticing when she was finished or when people started to gather for the couple’s dance. It wasn’t until she saw him stand that Nic was snapped from her trance. Quickly she stood up and followed everyone to watch the first dance.

And soon the DJ was playing an assortment of songs. Other couples had made their way to the dance floor, but Nic hung in the back. She wasn’t a dancer, and one of the few people who came without a date. She felt a little pathetic by that fact. The invitation gave her a plus one but she didn’t use it. Who could she possibly use it on?

“Having fun?” Gary asked, randomly appearing beside her.

Nic nearly jumped out of her skin. When did he get here?

“Uh, I guess,” she shrugged. “Why aren’t you dancing with your date?”

“Because I don’t have one…”

“Oh. Well, neither do I,” Nic told him.

There was a moment of silence between them, and Nic continued to watch couples dance. That was before Gary obstructed her vision by standing in front of her, hand out.

“Why don’t we join them?” He suggested. “It only has to be one dance. But I will warn you; I have two left feet.”

She snorted in amusement and placed her hand in his. “You can’t be any worse than I am, trust me.”

He led her to the dance floor as songs began to change, and her heart skipped a beat as a slow love song began to play. And why did it have to be one that she knows?

A chill ran up her body when she felt Gary put his hands on her waist. Her mind stopped working mid thought and she nearly froze altogether if it weren’t for some internal instinct to place her hands on his chest. Letting out a deep breath, she melted into the music as they slowly danced. But she wasn’t listening at all as Gary rambled.

“A picnic,” she interrupted.

“I’m sorry?”

She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “I shouldn’t be telling you either, but… if Razesayer wants the date to be special then he should take her on a picnic. Preferably at the meadow the party passed on their way out of town. It’ll remind her of home— sorry.” She mumbled the last part as she accidentally stepped on his foot.

“Aww! That’s so romantic!” He cooed.

“Just figured Raze could use the tip.” She held back a wince as he stepped on her foot, but admittedly it wasn’t as painful as if she wore flats.

“You’re not as bad at dancing as you said,” Gary told her.

“Just following your lead.” She smiled. “You’re pretty good yourself.”

“Thank you! My mom made me learn for my bar mitzvah. I might have forgotten some steps,” he admitted as he stepped on her foot again.

“At least you’re still on your feet.” Nic nodded in the direction of some coworkers who were obviously drunk and wavering on their feet.

The song ended and there was a pause between song changes. Nic playfully curtsied.

“Thank you for the dance, Razesayer.”

Gary bowed in response. “It was my honor, Lady Xena.”

The reception was coming to a close and it was announced the bride was about to do the bouquet toss. Most of the single women gathered on the now abandoned dance floor. Nic stayed in the back, not confident of her ability to catch the bouquet, but figuring if the bride overshot and it fell behind them, Nic could get to it quickly. But oh how she underestimated the bride’s ability to overshoot.

The bouquet of flowers arced high over the group’s head. Their eyes all followed it as it flew past them. It impacted someone in the crowd, and everyone watched as the bouquet fell into the unsuspecting arms of Gary. The hit caused his glasses to become askew and left him dazed for a moment before he looked at the flowers in his hands.

“I caught the bouquet!” He said excitedly, holding it up.

The crowd groaned in annoyance and the women disappointedly dispersed from the dance floor. Nic shook her head in amusement and walked back over to where she left her drink. The bride and groom were starting to make their rounds, thanking people for attending and saying their goodbyes. She downed the rest of her water and was prepared to call an Uber when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Jumping in surprise, Nic faced the person and was met with a bouquet of flowers in her face. But not just any bouquet; it was the bouquet Gary caught.

“I saw you were in the group trying to catch it and I thought you might like them,” he told her nervously.

“Oh.” She gingerly took it from him and held the flowers. “Thank you, Gary. I wasn’t really trying to catch it but… thanks.”

“And the flowers are all okay. My glasses softened the hit.”

“Are your glasses okay?” She asked, reaching up to fix them so they sat properly on his face.

“They’re not broken so I’d say they are.” He paused. “They’re not broken right?”

She snorted in amusement. “They don’t look it.”

“Oh good.” His shoulders relaxed in relief. “These are the only pair I’ve got.”

“Mine too,” she said before they fell into an awkward silence. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“And D&D,” he reminded her.

“And D&D.” She waved her phone. “I’m gonna go call an Uber so… I’ll see ya.” Nic finger-gunned awkwardly before walking away.

As she quickly made her way out of the reception hall, she mentally scolded herself. She swore under her breath. Are you kidding, Nicole?! You finger-gunned away? What a weirdo!

Sighing frustratedly, she started to call for an Uber and hoped sometime between then and tomorrow the earth would swallow her and save her from having to face Gary at work.

[annabethy]

57. “I come here whenever I need a quiet place to think…to sort my head out.”

and/or

36. "How do you even know that this is here?"

in which Percy and Annabeth aren't the best of friends, but meet on the rooftop and discover that maybe, they're exactly what the other needs,, percabeth

It’s two in the morning, and Annabeth finds that she can’t bring herself to sleep.

She tries to hold her eyes shut in hopes of the sleepiness she’s felt all week slipping over her, but another hour passes and she’s still wide awake.

When Annabeth sits up in her bed, she has no intentions of slipping out of the apartment, past her dad’s room, but then she looks out the window where the city lights are awake as can be, and she finds herself already unlocking her window and stepping onto the fire escape.

It’s a long journey up the metal stairs, so she takes her time to appreciate the blow of the winter wind and the noise of New York City that she’s come to love. It’s a biting chill, one that has her wishing she’d put on a jacket prior to her midnight voyage to the top of her apartment building, but it comforting and welcome.

When she does reach the end of the fire escape, she hops onto the ledge of the building and stares off into the skyline. It should be dark so late at night, but instead, it’s glowing. It’s beautiful, she thinks, the industrial feel of the city. It’s so unnatural, but it’s where she’s grown up. She’s used to the honking of horns and the noises that fill the silence.

Annabeth walks along the edge carefully, focusing on the views further in the distance. She wonders if she’d be able to see where the Earth begins to curve and thinks about how big the planet really is (and how small she is in comparison). She can spot the point where the lights seem to have a gap, and she thinks she’s looking at what would be a river in the daylight.

She feels as though she can finally breathe in this moment, though she hadn’t realized how suffocated she had felt before, stuffed into the small space that was her room. Her hair blows in the wind, and she refrains from thinking about how difficult it’ll be to brush it out later. It’s freeing, relieving, and—

“Don’t fall,” a voice warns.

Annabeth rolls her eyes at the voice that is all too familiar, turning her head to she can look over her shoulder. It’s darker atop the building, but even she can spot the mischievous glimmer in her eyes that’s always irked her much more rigid personality.

“Jackson,” she says, a tone of sarcasm in her voice, “What a pleasure.”

“I always am,” he says, grinning. He’s leaning against a metal unit, staring at her, and had they been anywhere else, at any other moment in time, she might’ve made some snarky remark to wipe the grin off his face. She tells herself she doesn’t have the energy to deal with it right now, and that it’s the reason for her silence. “You plan on getting down from there anytime soon?”

“Aw. It’s so sweet you’re worried.” She knows it’s true, despite the small laugh she hears pushed from his lungs. That’s something that she’s discovered about him. Even with the person he hates most in the world, he cares.

“If you fell, people would probably think I pushed you.”

Annabeth snorts.

He’s not particularly wrong. The rivalry they have going on in school is strong, and people probably wouldn’t put murder beyond them.

“Seriously,” he says. “Get down.”

She jumps down from the short ledge towards him. Her eyes adjust slightly to the light, and she can see him better now. He’s in a windbreaker, and his own hair is ruffled in the wind. She finds herself wanting to run her fingers through it before catching herself. It surprises even her – Percy’s made her life nothing but literal hell, and she’d rather die than get caught playing friendly with him.

Annabeth stands next to him but doesn’t sit yet.

“What are you even doing here?” she asks.

“I’m stalking you,” is his answer.

Annabeth kicks him lightly and suppresses a laugh at his dramatic hiss of pain. “What are you actually doing here? You don’t live in this area.”

“I come here whenever I need a quiet place to think…to sort my head out.”

“Percy Jackson can think?”

“Haha, you dick.”

“I’m messing with you,” she says. She chooses then to sit down beside him. She thinks it may be the first time she’s sat near him voluntarily. Annabeth supposes there’s no harm if there’s no one there to see. “How do you even know that this is here?”

Percy shoots her a look, though not an unkind one. It has her neck flushing red despite the temperature outside. “How do I know that this building has a roof?”

“You know what I mean, smartass.”

Percy shrugs and extends his legs. His feet nudge hers playfully. “I’ve lived in this corner my entire life. I know just about everything there is.”

“That’s fair.”

“How about you, Chase? Why is my princess out past curfew?”

Annabeth chooses to ignore the nickname she’s hated for so long (and the way he calls her his).

“Couldn’t sleep,” she admits.

“Something bothering you?”

She hums. “Nothing in particular. I just figured if I was going to be awake, I might as well spend it outside.”

“And spend it with me,” Percy teases, elbowing her lightly.

“Because I love spending time with you,” Annabeth says. There’s a particularly harsh blow of wind that has her crossing her arms over her chest.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want my jacket?”

Annabeth’s never been one to swallow her pride, but it seems to have gotten significantly colder in minutes, and she’d rather not sit outside for who knows how long without any barrier from the wind. Still, she’s hesitant. “Are you sure?”

Percy chuckles lightly and slips his jacket off his shoulders. “Here.”

When she puts it on, it’s immediate relief. It’s still warm from his body heat, and it smells like him. It’s nicer than she cares to admit, and somehow, she feels comfort in the oversized fabric that she’s practically drowning in.

As she tightens it around her, breathing in the scent of him, she mumbles, “Thank you.”

Percy’s response is a brush against her arm with his fingers.

“So, what were you thinking about?” she asks. “When you came to my secret place?”

“Your secret place?”

“I called dibs. If you wanted it to be yours, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

Percy gives her his lopsided smile at her remark. “I’m not really sure. Life, I guess.”

“About how you plan to torture me at school next week?”

“Oh, of course.”

“That spider was not funny, you know.”

“It’s because I have a crush on you.”

“And here I thought you hated me.”

“Do you think I would give my jacket to someone I hate?”

“I guess not,” she says, laughing. “You can have it back if you want.”

Percy shakes his head. “I’m alright.”

“Are you sure, though? It’s cold outside, and we’re not exactly best friends.”

He grabs her hand from her lap and squeezes it. “I’m alright, Annabeth. I want you to have it.”

Annabeth bites her lower lip, but gives in, sinking further into the jacket. It’s kind of heaven, she hates to admit. She feels as though she should hate this, spending time with Percy Jackson so late into the night, but somehow, she feels more at home than she has in a long time.

“Also,” Percy begins again, “not best friends?”

“Do you really consider us best friends?”

“I mean…you’d definitely have to define best friends. Two people that playfully bully each other? Sure.”

“Playful?” Annabeth chokes out. “Nothing about our relationship is playful. You hit me in the eye with a pencil a few days ago.”

“In my defense, that was actually an accident. I felt really bad about it.”

“Mh-hm.”

“But that doesn’t mean we’re not friends, right? I mean, I’d totally kiss you if you wanted me to. I think that qualifies as friends?”

Annabeth is no stranger to his lighthearted flirting, so she just rolls her eyes fondly. “That qualifies as something entirely different.”

“Probably.” Percy squeezes her hand again, and she realizes that he’d never actually let go. “But I’m actually going to miss bullying you every day once we graduate.”

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure. You’re going to NYU?”

“And you’re going to Columbia,” he responds back.

“I’ll be close enough to be bullied, then.”

“I guess so. Maybe I don’t want to bully you, though.”

“Aw, bummer. What would our relationship be without your flirtatious bullying?”

“Maybe something more?”

Annabeth looks at him then. He seems to be genuine, and so she finds she can’t look away.

“I do actually consider us friends, Annabeth. I mean it.”

Somehow, she knows he does.

“I guess friends isn’t so bad,” Annabeth says quietly, “if sitting up here is any indication.”

“We could have our weekly ventures to our secret spot.”

“My secret spot,” she corrects.

Percy grins brightly.

“But I wouldn’t be so opposed to that, as long as you never try to hit me with a pencil.”

“I didn’t mean to the first time,” he says lightly.

“Then friends,” she says.

“We’re living our own enemies to lover story.”

“Ew. Never mind. I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Aw.”

Annabeth just muffles a laugh into the sleeve of his jacket, choking out a quick kidding, and he pinches her in indignation. They fall into a silence, and the sounds of New York drown out in her ears. All she can hear is the rhythm of his breathing, and she can only focus on the warmth of his body.

“Do you actually have a crush on me?” she asks, suddenly curious.

“Maybe I do. I guess you’ll just have to stick around long enough to find out.”

Annabeth’s heart flutters. “I guess I will.”

Really, she’s starting to think maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world. Perhaps he’s never been as awful as she’s been telling herself. Maybe it was always just her pride.

Maybe Percy Jackson is exactly what she’s always needed.

Annabeth really has no control over it when her eyes begin to flutter shut. She doesn’t even realize it’s happening until Percy opens his arms towards her – an invitation – and she slides right in. His arms wrap around her, his face pressing into the top of her head, and she lets herself drift into the sleep she’s been wishing for.

She doesn’t wake up until the sun begins to peek over the horizon. She’s nestled deep against him, able to feel every breath he takes and hear his heartbeat. He’s sleeping when she lifts her head, so she allows herself to fall back against him, a subtle smile on her face.

It’s unexpected, but she feels safe in his embrace. It’s warm and happy in their secret spot, and she never wants to leave.

Annabeth stays here with him, in their secret spot, for just a bit longer.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Send in the Aegis'

Shulk: Mythra, you know how Pyra is basically an alternate you that you created?

Mythra: I mean, that's missing an entire segment of information and details, but sure. What is it?

Shulk: Well, was Pyra the only one you made?

Mythra: ....Honestly, no. There were others. I kinda panicked and made a whole bunch in case Pyra didn't fit. Though, handling them all was too much trouble, so I just put them on lockdown. 

Shulk: Come on, I'm sure they can't be that bad.

Mythra: You want to meet them? Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Mythra closes her eyes and glows for a split second.

Shulk: ...Uh, Mythra?

Mythra: They'll be out in a second. 

She twitches. Her hair goes from blonde to white, and changes into ponytails. She has a big smile on her face.

Joyra: Hi, everybody! Isn't it a super amazing great day?

She twitches. Her hair becomes a dark blue while her hairstyle becomes long and droopy, covering an eye. She seems sad.

Gloomra: Ugh....She calls this a great day? I should've stayed in bed...

She then changes to pink, her hair in a bun. She didn't put it in a bun, it just got that way.

Lustra: Ah, but romance is in the air, my Aegis Sisters. Tis a beautiful day to fall in love.~

Her hair then goes to a floofy hairstyle, now being the color of a rainbow. Her sword has turned into a gigantic mic. 

Laughra: HAHAH! Hey everybody! It's great to be here, I'll be here all week. Hey, have you seen that Bowser? Talk about clingy, am I right? Ha! But seriously, these are all jokes. Laugh with me!

Shulk laughs, very confused. Her hair then changes to green, while the hair style changes to a short haircut. She now has sunglasses.

Coolra: Ey! Who's up for some football, huh?

She then changes into the last "alt", who has pitch black spikey hair.

Evilra: Heh. Nice place you got, Shulkie. I could have some serious fun with this stuff.

She then changes to Pyra, who simply blinked.

Pyra: ...Well, it's been a while since I've heard from them. Shulk? You okay?

Shulk: Give me a minute...it's a lot to process. But, I don't think they're that bad. You can probably have them talk to the other Smashers. 

Pyra: Really? Well, if you think so. Later, Shulk!

Later that day.....

Joyra goes over to Simon.

Joyra: Hello, grandfather dear! How're you this wonderful day?

Simon: Lady Mythra...Pyra? I can't tell who I'm talking to, but I'm not your grandfather. And I must say that I'm not doing all that great. These shoes of mine are too hard, the birds are getting to close...and the sun hurts my eyes.

Joyra, ignoring all that: Joy! Isn't it a beautiful day? Aren't these birds simply lovely? Isn't it great to be alive?

Simon: ....

Joyra, agressively: (｡◕‿◕｡)

Later....

Gloomra had her leg stuck in a door. Isabelle approached her

Gloomra: Ow...Ow.....

Isabelle: Oh, hi Mythra! I like what you did with your hair. Blue looks good on you! Do you think you could assist me with some tasks for the Mayor?

Gloomra: What's the point of doing any tasks for some Mayor? We do him, he thanks us, we some more, he thanks us some more, then what? Poof, we're gone. Nothingness, emptiness. We're all dust in the wind. The worst part is I'm going to probably outlive all of you. 

Isabelle, scared: ...I...I don't want to be dust in the wind...

Later, again....

Coolra is walking down the street with an unmatched level of coolness.

Coolra: She shoots, she scores! Ya girl Coolra is fo sho swag, bruh! (She begins checking herself out in the mirror) Oooo! Looking good! Who's that hottie? Oh, it's only me! 

Coolra sees Sonic.

Coolra: Ey, it's the Speedster himself! 

Sonic: Uh, Pyra? What're you doing?

Coolra: I'm walking 'ere! You got a problem with dat, ya skateboardin' Needlemouse Boi?

Sonic: Needlemouse Boy?

Coolra takes Sonic's skateboard and begins absolutely shredding with it, riding on buildings, doing flips, catching insane air. She even grinded on a bench.

Sonic: Woah, check it out! Pyra's got the moves!

CRACK!

Coolra, handing the broken board back to Sonic: Heh. How 'bout next time you get a board that can handle the Coolra style? Later, Prickles the Hamster!

Sonic: ....This was a birthday gift....

Later, once more...

Pit was playing on his Switch when Laughra approached him.

Pit: Hey, Mythra! Want to play the new Warioware with me?

Laughra: Do I? Does Bowser ever cry himself to sleep? Hey, why did Knuckles cover himself in mayonaise? Because he wanted a Knuckle sandwich! Hahahaha!

Pit: ????

Laughra: Hello! Anyone home in there? Don't tell me you need your mommy to tell you to think! Paging Mr. Pit! Palutena called. She wants her flightless idiot back.

Pit, a bit offended: Uh, Mythra? Are you okay? You're being mean in a weird way.

Laughra: I'm weird! HAHA! Come on! You want weird, you should see the type of fanfics Robin writes. And what's the deal with that Kazooie?

Later, after that...

Rex: (Eating a sandwich) Oh, hi Pyra. What's up?

Lustra: To read thee a book and to take in thine beauty, dear Rex. Is Nia around as well?

Rex: Uh, yeah. She's in the back.

Lustra: Ah. Then I will focus on you until she comes. Shall I compare thee to a summers day? Nay! Even Shakespeare is inadequate to describe thou's perfection!

Rex, blushing: P-Pyra, come on. The others will hear.

Lustra: As you wish, darling. But before that...could you gift me with a kiss?

Rex: ....(faints)

Later, hopefully the last time...

Evilra was standing on the side of the road with a pie. She saw Luigi coming and smirked.

Evilra: Hey, Stringbean. Want a pie?

Luigi: Oh boy! Sure!

Evilra proceeds to smack the pie in Luigi's face, knocking him to the ground.

Evilra: (snickers evilly) You can't beat the classics!

Luigi: I-I'll say...

Evilra: (poses)

[mc-lukanette]

Ladybug had long since gotten used to the monotony of her superhero life, though perhaps it was more accurate to say that she'd gone numb to it. There were only so many akuma one could take without seeing it as something formulaic, and she'd seen more than she could count.

Even when she went out on patrol, she didn't think about it, merely hopping to wherever the next rooftop was and surveying the area. Thinking about the life she'd been roped into wasn't productive and only succeeded in making her imagine unnecessary what-ifs. Paris didn't need that kind of hero; they needed one devoid of attachment or longing.

And the more time passed, the more she tried to be exactly that.

In the midst of her patrol that particular day, late into the night as it always was, she stopped as she suddenly heard the sound of a guitar. Granted, it wasn't rare for her to hear someone blasting music or playing an instrument in the evening, but there was something inherently familiar about the way the guitar was being played.

Deep down, she knew that there was only one person who could play guitar like that.

Ladybug turned her head towards the source of the sound, her heart involuntarily skipping a beat when she saw him, sitting on the balcony of a house she didn't recognize.

Luka. He was just as she remembered: the highlights, the guitar, and the gentle blue eyes.

Ladybug sat on her heels, staring down at him curiously. How long had it been since she'd seen him? She knew it had to have been at least a few years, though she didn't know the exact amount.

She wondered if that was his house. She wondered if the guitar in his arms was brand new or was cared for with years of love and attention. She wondered if he chose the balcony because he was playing for the night itself.

She wondered how he'd been doing since she'd cut him and everyone else out of her life.

Almost as if he'd sensed her, Luka suddenly glanced up to the rooftop she was on, his fingers bringing the song to a sudden end. She stiffened, just as his eyebrows rose at the sight of her.

He glanced down at his guitar, seeming to make the connection, then smiled up at her. Raising the volume of his voice so she'd hear, he asked, "Do you want a front-row seat, Ladybug?"

She blushed lightly, standing up and waving her hands dismissively. "Uh—no, I'm just passing by!"

But she couldn't deny that he looked really inviting sitting there, and he had already noticed and spoken to her. She debated with herself for a good few seconds before deciding that a small conversation would be okay.

Patrols were supposed to be unpredictable in timing, after all, or else people could plan around them. Getting a little side-tracked helped with that, she supposed.

She took a few steps back, then took a running leap onto the balcony that Luka was seated at, just barely missing the table and chairs next to her. Glancing over at his welcoming smile, she put on her best superhero demeanor and simply asked, "Have you seen anything strange going on recently?"

He shook his head, though his expression didn't change. "I haven't." He looked down at the neck of his guitar, running his hand along it. "Sorry I can't be of more help."

"Oh! No, it's okay!" She frowned. She knew he meant patrol, but she couldn't help thinking of when his identity had been compromised. "...It's Viperion, right?"

He seemed pleasantly surprised. "I'm glad you remember."

She bit back the ’of course I do’ and opted for a more formal, "It's part of the job. Even if I can't call on certain heroes anymore, I always remember them." She glanced at his guitar. "It's the same with your music, isn't it?"

He chuckled. "You could say that."

He played a quick melody that she recognized but didn't dare put a name to. She'd only arrived to talk, not to be reminded of the past, so she averted her gaze to the fence around the balcony, idling running her fingers along the railing.

Reminded of one of her earlier musings, she commented, "This is a nice place. Is it yours?"

He hummed with a nod. "I bought it a few weeks ago."

That explained why she'd never heard him play there before. "And the balcony?" She paused in thought, realizing after a moment, "I guess it's no replacement for playing on a deck, but it's the closest you can get to it?"

"Mm." He leaned his chair back, propping his feet up on the railing. "It's something. Nothing will ever beat the Liberty though."

She understood to some degree. She'd moved out of the bakery as soon as she could and it took time to stop missing the warmth and scents. "But you're happy at least?"

"Yeah," he replied, though the look on his face was less "happy" than she would've expected from him. She supposed it was her memory failing her, given all their time away from each other.

"What about you?"

Her shoulder went stiff. "W-what?" Did he really just ask her for personal—

"Are you happy too?" he clarified, offering her a smile. "You deserve to be."

She relaxed, though turned back to the fence to look at the night sky instead of him. It might've been a long time since they'd seen each other, but she was afraid that he'd read her somehow.

Happy. She supposed that it depended on the definition one might use for it.

"...I'm happy that Paris is happy under my watch," she finally answered. Eyes giving off a hint of a sparkle, she added, "I'm happy that it's safe enough for musicians like you to stay up past their bedtime to play me songs."

That earned her a chuckle, and she couldn't help turning back to him to see what his face looked like. If it made her feel happy at all, she didn't acknowledge it, the only hint being the wide smile on her face.

Luka had always been a special case. He was so unlike everyone else she knew, not only in the way he acted, but how he treated her. While she was never able to figure out how she felt about him, there was a gentle tug he had on her that she couldn't deny.

Not that she missed him though. She didn't, and she wasn't lonely either.

She wasn't lonely at all.

After his brief giggling fit was over, Luka dropped his feet from the railing, settling his chair back down before getting up. He turned, walking to the sliding glass door and pushing it open. "Do you want a drink before you go?"

She tilted her head at him. "A drink? Are you sure?"

In response, he slipped inside, the gentle tug urging her to follow after him. She was hesitant, but supposed it'd be rude to refuse him, so she walked into his house and closed the glass door behind her.

She couldn't help smiling at the casual way he'd simply invited a superhero into his house.

The living room and kitchen weren't separated by any wall, Luka heading towards the latter from the former after setting his guitar back on its stand. Ladybug took a look at her surroundings, noting that it wasn't unlike his room on the Liberty. Anarka was messy, Juleka was more controlled, and Luka himself was cleanest just out of not having a ton of belongings.

There were a few instruments, of course, but she also noticed the same Jagged Stone poster from back in the day. In addition, there were two pictures hanging on the wall, one of his family and one of the time she'd taken a photo of Kitty Section for their contest entry. The family picture seemed to be from a time she wasn't around him for, as he looked older than how she'd remembered.

Luka called from the kitchen, "What do you like?"

She turned to him. "Oh, tea's fine, thank you." Then, approaching the photos, she observed aloud, "You must be really close to your family and friends."

"I am," he replied, a smile in his voice. "Are you? You care so much about Paris that—"

"No," she cut in. "I don't have anyone like that." She could tell that Luka was thrown off and continued, "It's for the best."

Luka didn't reply, an awkward silence stretching on. She looked over at him, wondering if maybe he was pitying her, but he was occupying himself with making her tea. She turned away, walking over to his couch and taking a seat on it.

A few minutes passed. Luka returned to her with two mugs and offered her one. She took it, giving him a grateful nod, but waited until he sat down next to her to say, "You think it's strange."

"No," Luka assured. "I'm just surprised. I've never been alone, so I don't know how it must be for you." He took a sip of his drink, then stared thoughtfully into the mug. "...And everyone already knows about Chat Noir having a girlfriend."

She shrugged. "Chat Noir can afford to blurt out those kinds of things; to have those kinds of things. He doesn't have the responsibilities that I do."

On a basic level, she knew that she should've left it there. She'd held everything in for so long that she could do it for a few minutes longer, at least as long as she was staying there.

But it was always different with Luka. With Luka, all of her secrets and pent-up emotion grew wings and fluttered around her stomach like a swarm of her magical ladybugs, begging to come out and heal some unknown damage. Any attempt to drown them by sipping Luka's tea just made them fly faster.

"...It was too exhausting," she finally admitted.

Luka glanced over, giving her his attention.

She continued, "I used to have them, but it drained me. It was too much and I couldn't balance it with my hero life. It felt like I was always doing something for someone and I couldn't do it anymore without risking Paris."

He didn't respond verbally at first, but let out a sympathetic hum. He took another, much longer sip of his drink, and all Ladybug could think was, Not you though. You weren't that way.

"I wish it hadn't been like that for you," he told her, setting his drink down. "That's not how it's supposed to be, and it's never been that way for me."

She went to reply - to tell him it was okay and he shouldn't worry - when she noticed a somber expression wash over his face. He averted his gaze from her, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone.

Ladybug breathed up when she noticed his phone's wallpaper: it was her, in civilian form, next to him, back when they were teenagers. She swallowed, seeing the soft look in his eyes even as he frowned, and wondered what exactly they'd talked about that made him think to pull out the image of her on his phone.

She'd tried not to think about it when she saw the pictures earlier, but apparently he still thought about her after all.

"Ah—" She leaned over, trying not to be obvious about what she was feeling. "Is that... your girlfriend?"

He glanced over at her, brows raised, then relaxed and shook his head. Managing a sad smile, he replied, "No. She knew I was interested in her, but I never got a reply; I never asked for one. I haven't talked to her for years either. She just left one day."

She stared down at her lap, running her free hand along her leg. "She—um—sounds unreliable. It was cruel of her to abandon you. Didn't that hurt?"

He looked at his phone a moment longer, then set it down on the table. Leaning back, he tilted his head up at the ceiling and replied, "Not like that. Marinette doesn't do anything without a reason, and I trust her. I—" He sighed. "—I was hurt because I wished that she would've relied on me."

Ladybug gaped, blurting out, "You wanted her to rely on you more?" She covered her mouth as she realized what she'd said. "I-I mean, ah..." She tried to figure out a way to salvage it, but curiosity won over. "Why?"

"I wanted to see her happy," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "and I was happy to be the one she went to. It meant that she trusted me more than anyone else."

Suddenly, Ladybug recognized the look in his eyes. It was the same look he gave her when he held her hands while they were ice skating together, and the same look he had on when he confessed. She didn't understand it.

"But," she began, trying to pull herself out of her speechless stupor, "you thought she didn't return your feelings? Wasn't it a bother?"

The soft gaze gone, he jolted up, looking at her like she'd offended him. "Marinette didn't owe me anything, and her happiness doesn't mean less to me because she didn't feel the way I did. She didn't take advantage of me and her relying on me isn't suddenly a bother because we never dated. I cared about her, and I didn't need anything else out of making her feel better."

She blushed, both from the intensity of his words and the embarrassment from feeling as though she was being scolded. Unable to meet his eyes anymore, she stared down at her tea, drinking it slowly at first and then scarfing it down when she realized that it'd gone cold.

She wondered how many times he'd had to tell people that, given the way he so actively jumped on what she'd said. It wasn't that he sounded wrong, but...

wow.

"I-I'm sorry," she managed. "I didn't mean to make it seem like..." She trailed off, biting her bottom lip.

Luka breathed out, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's okay." He averted his gaze, meaning neither of them were looking at each other anymore. "Marinette had a lot to deal with. She cared about everything and had so much talent. I can't imagine how suffocating it was to be known by so many celebrities and have so many expectations put on her." His hand twitched, then curled into a fist. "That's why it puts me so out of tune when I see people talking about us like I was doing all the work or that I shouldn't care as much because she might love someone else."

Ladybug always thought that relationships were a give-and-take, and they were, but it hadn't occurred to her that maybe she'd misconstrued what the "taking" part entailed. When she'd initially decided to cut off everyone, including Luka, it was because she wanted a completely clean break; to be separated from every person she'd put time into so she could focus on being Ladybug. It'd hurt, of course, but she'd gotten over it, hoping to put Paris as her top priority.

Luka had been an afterthought in a way, because she'd presumed that he would've done so much better without her there. She honestly believed that she was doing what was best for both herself and him, since everything she'd been taught implied that she was only troubling him.

Perhaps there was such a thing as "foolish selflessness" then, where she'd focused so much on what she thought might be best for him without actually confirming it. She thought she could be sure based on what she'd experienced before, but she couldn't.

There was no one else quite like Luka, it seemed.

"...How did you know?" she asked, peeking up at him.

Luka looked over, blinking at her. "Know what?"

"That—" She took a breath, knowing that she was in too deep to back out now. "That you were in love with her?"

His eyes went wide. She grew sheepish, pulling her empty mug closer to her face like she was ready to hide behind it.

"If it's too personal, that's okay. I've just—never seen someone as sure as you are."

After a few seconds, Luka calmed, his expression turning thoughtful. He stared straight ahead of him, looking at nothing in particular, then finally smiled.

"Maybe it's because I didn't grow up with a normal family," he mused, "but I've always thought about love differently."

She tilted her head at him. "How so?" Then, hesitantly, she suggested, "Do you mean you're not really in love with her romantically?"

"No, I am," he stated, and so bluntly that she started blushing again, "but it was never about that for me."

He eyed his phone, though it'd already gone dark from being idle. "Dating, marriage... those aren't things I think about when I see Marinette." He smiled, the softness in his eyes coming back. "Of course I'd be happy going however far she wanted with those, but I don't think loving someone should be about worrying about things like that."

"Really?" She leaned towards him. "Then, what do you think when you see her?"

He met her gaze, accidentally directing that softness her way. For a moment, it was like she was her civilian self, and it was impossible not to feel loved.

"That I want to be with her," Luka answered, "forever, if she'd let me. Whether we're friends or lovers, I want to be able to make her happy and let her rely on me. If there's something bothering her, I want her to know that I'll listen, no matter what it's about. I want her to be comfortable and not worry about what I'll think, because she knows I won't judge her." He placed a hand to his heart, gaze dropping to the couch. "That's love to me."

Ladybug absorbed that, but was unable to say anything coherent outside of, "Oh," her heart doing a flip in her chest.

He chuckled. "I know it might sound weird. You don't have to—"

"No," she cut in, voice softer than intended. She swallowed, her tone returning to normal as she assured, "I think it's really sweet. I wish that I—I mean, I wish that more people could hear that sort of thing. It's touching."

He hummed, staring at her with a look of content. "Thank you." Eyes drifting downwards, he held his hand out and asked, "Do you want me to take that?"

"What?" She looked, only now remembering her empty mug. "Oh, yeah, thanks."

She handed it to him, and Luka took both mugs back to the kitchen to put them in the sink. She watched him, feeling all too much and once and not knowing how to process it.

The idea of it being so simple had never occurred to her; that things like rejection or marriage or children suddenly wouldn't matter, and being content just loving and being with a person was where true happiness lied. She was used to being dragged around towards someone, insisting that her love from long ago had to be a certain way, and that any exceptions would make it imperfect.

The force of it caused her nothing but pain and anxiety, and the "love" she felt was all the more fake for it.

What she had for - with - Luka wasn't like that though. She knew it from the start, but didn't know what it meant.

Luka's wasn't forceful; it was the gentle tug she'd felt and needed all along. Suddenly, everything made sense.

"...I should probably go," she admitted, glancing over at the window. "I need to get back to patrol."

The wind in her face would probably do her good. She had a lot to think about.

Luka came back from the kitchen, heading for the sliding glass doors and picking up his guitar on the way. "You probably should. Thanks for coming in for a while though." He was apologetic as he added, "You deserved the break, but I'm sorry if things got a little heavy for you."

"Not at all," she assured, pushing herself up and walking to stand next to him. She smiled at him, acknowledging, "I think it was just heavy enough, actually."

It was Luka, so of course he didn't prod or ask questions; he just returned her smile with his own.

She passed him, partway into the doorframe before something occurred to her. She glanced back at him, his smile turning into a lopsided frown as he didn't seem to know what she was thinking. Placing a hand on the frame of the glass door, close to where his hand still was, she leaned towards him and kissed his cheek.

She grinned as she pulled away, admiring the way his brows rose in surprise. Giggling, she whispered, "For good luck," promptly turning away and hopping onto the fence.

She then leapt away, continuing the patrol that she'd put on hold. Even though she hadn't looked back at him when she left, his face was vivid in her mind as she beamed, the adrenaline from patrol unable to compete with the way her heart had already been pounding.

I want to be with you.

—————

Marinette

Luka?

...Please tell me you didn't change your number. I might die of embarrassment if you did.

Luka

Marinette?

Marinette

Luka!

Thank goodness.

Luka

Did something happen?

Marinette

No!

Yes?

...Look, I know this probably sounds really out of nowhere and it won't make a lot of sense, but I was thinking about you.

I have been for a while.

I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but can I take you out somewhere? Not as an apology, even though I'm really sorry, but because I want to.

You don't have to say "yes."

You don't have to want to talk to me ever again either.

Luka

...What if I want to do all of those?

Marinette

Oh.

Then... I guess it'd be a date?

Luka

Just me and you?

Marinette

Yeah. Just you and me.

Mostly me.

Because I'll be paying and I don't want to hear one word of complaint out of you.

Alright?

Luka

Ha. Alright.

It's a date.

Marinette

Yes!

Luka

I have to warn you though, Marinette.

Marinette

About what?

Luka

I'm going to be smiling a lot when we meet up. I hope that's okay.

Marinette

That's what you're worried about??

Don't.

I will be too.

[killee]

Hey I love ur writing for the yumeko n kirari! You left me on a cliffhanger! Would you consider doing a P2? 😻

Multiple parts will be made so do not worry! Enjoy!

2:1 (Part Two)

⌦ pairing: kirari x reader

⌦ fandom: kakegurui

⌦ word count: 2k (2001)

⌦ warning: nsfw — fem!fingering / fem!squirting / dom&sub dynamic / cum eating? / light aftercare

⌯ It’s been a couple of hours since everyone split up to win you enough money to pay off your debt. You had earned a significant amount of money from blackjack, to be precise you won seventeen million from the game. Lady luck was on your side but you wondered if she was on Yumeko’s and Mary’s side.

⌯ You decided it was time to head back to the meeting place and see if everyone had earned enough to pay off your debt. Your debt was only forty-seven million so you were able to pay off a sum of it. You walked to the meeting place but on your way you didn’t see Yumeko. ‘Maybe she’d already finished or she’s probably still in a match knowing her.’ You smiled to yourself thinking about how she gets when she’s gambling.

⌯ You arrived at the meeting place and were surprised when you saw no one there. You sighed and sat down in one of the chairs around the table, you sat your head down and played with your tag. You laughed at it. “I wouldn’t have you anyone, I’m gonna miss you.” You ran your finger over ‘kitten’ then dropped the tag on the table.

⌯ You closed your eyes for what felt like a minute caused you to jolt up, you sighed heavily while rubbing your eyes. “You’re finally awake~” You jumped at the sudden voice, almost falling out of the chair. You looked across from you and saw that it was Kirari but this time she has the vice president standing beside her. You gulped nervously and properly sat in the chair.

⌯ “What is it you want now?” You stared into his eyes from across the table, you could tell she was in a playful mood, something you were not in. She stood up and slowly walked over to where you sat with her index finger gliding across the table surface. “I want you darling~ isn’t it obvious?”

⌯ You quickly glanced between the vice president and the woman in front of you. Kirari seemed to get the idea and laughed. “Don’t worry about her, you should be focused on me.. but if you really want,” she turned to the vice president and ordered her to stand watch outside the door then she focused back onto you “is that better?” You nodded. Kirari smiled and sat on the table in front of you. You looked up at her with pools of curiosity.

⌯ “You paid some of your debt.. who else is helping you?” She lifted up her hand and stroked your hair. Your breath became shagged and your heart began pumping faster. You did your best to hide your body’s reaction to her touch and proximity as you laughed and pushed her hand away. “Think I can’t pay off my debt alone? Wow, that’s low.. even for you.” She bit her lip and leaned down, noses almost touching each other and breaths being felt on each other’s lips.

⌯ I know you.. everything about you is stored in my mind.” You inhaled sharply and moved back. “Why are you here? I know you didn’t come all this way just to talk about some of my debt being paid.” You wanted to get to the point, as they say, time is money. You also need to go find the others since they should’ve been at the meeting point ago. Kirari sighed slowly and began undoing her hair.

⌯ “For release.” She placed her ribbons down beside her and waited for you. You scoffed and completely leaned back in your chair, there was no way you would do it in here. “No way. People are still out and I’m waiting for my friends.” She raised her eyebrows at you and giggled, she wasn’t worried about people hearing what you both were doing. And besides, the vice president was on watch.

⌯ Have you forgotten our agreement? Or should you be reminded?” You were still hesitant about it. Kirari sighed and slid herself onto your lap, she wrapped her arms around your neck and looked into your eyes. “I know you’re worried but no one will see us. I promise you nothing bad will happen.” She kissed your cheek then she kissed your neck, she looked up at you for confirmation and after seconds of hesitation you gave it to her.

⌯ She started off by softly kissing your neck then she began sucking gently on your collarbone. You moaned softly and wrapped your arms around her petite body, she moved her kisses up to your jawline and began nibbling on a soft patch of skin. You slid your hand up her back until you reached her hair then you grabbed a handful of it, pulling her head back and her neck being exposed.

⌯ “You know not to leave hickies in places I can’t cover up.” A mix between a groan and a moan escaped her flushed lips and she apologized. “Are you in control this t-“ you pulled her hair harder and smirked, “I’ve always been in control. Don’t think just because I let you top last time let you forget who’s in control. Maybe I should remind you of your place.” You let go of her hair and pushed her onto the table.

⌯ You didn’t allow her to recover before you spread her legs apart and looked at her with so much frustration. “You let that one time get to your head. So now I’ll remind you.” You put your head in between her legs and gently kissed her warm covered thighs. You felt her trying to close her legs but you stopped her before she could. “Stop.” Her movement secede and you continued on.

⌯ Your kisses traveled further and further up her leg until you reached her covered pussy. You raised your head up and watched her face as she tried to hide her temptation. “Beg me.” Kirari lifted her head up slightly to look at you, seeing if you were being serious. “Do I have to say it again? You know I don’t like repeating myself.” She took a deep breath and laid her head back against the table.

⌯ “Pl—Please touch me.” You smacked her outer thigh and earned a yelp from her, you sat back further in your chair and sighed. “Please! Please y/n! I need you to touch me!” You smiled, satisfied with her begging and ran both your hands up her thighs. You run them up and once you got to her cunt you grabbed where the legging met and tore a hole big enough where she could still hide it with her skirt.

⌯ You rubbed your fingers over her clothed pussy and looked up at her face. There was a mix of pressure and desire contoured on her face, it looked exotic. You circled your fingers over her clit, not too hard for her to get the pleasure she wanted but just enough for her to start begging for more. “Please! I need— you!” She reached her hand down and placed it around your wrist. You slapped her hand away and shook your head in disappointment.

⌯ “Darling you’re so impatient.. I guess I should give you what you begged for since I am so generous.” You put your body in a good position and hooked your finger around her panties. You slid them over to the side and exposed her pretty pink pussy to the cool air of the room, it glistened as the light overhead hit it just right. You smirked and used your other hand to play with her folds, dipping the tip of your middle finger inside of her.

⌯ You brought the finger up so she could see how wet she was. “Look at you. I bet you can see it from there.” She tilted her head downwards and immediately blushed as saw the excess on your fingers. You slowly lifted your fingers to your face and stretched the fluid out using both your thumb and middle finger, creating a thin line as they stretched apart from one another. You laughed as her face reddened ever more.

⌯ “Spread yourself for me.” She quickly obliged with no hesitation and used her hands to spread her pussy lips apart, her hole opened with a little noise and wetness was gradually coming out of her. So fascinating. With the same fingers as before, you played with her entrance, barely putting anything inside of her. “Y/n, I’m sorry fo-for what I did— please just f—“ you didn’t let her finish as you slid your middle finger inside of her, curling it upwards as you slowly began thrusting inside of her.

⌯ You were very satisfied with this situation. Although you still were frustrated with Kirari it wouldn’t last for long, especially when she had the most exotic expression on her beautiful face. You sped up your pace and even added a second finger inside with the first one, her sweet moans filled the room and her hips bucked to try to meet your fingers halfway. You let go of her panties and thankfully they stayed where they were supposed to stay.

⌯ You pushed her hips down and held them in place as you sped up significantly. Kirari’s beautiful sea blue eyes fell shut and her hands gripped the sides of the table. “How are you feeling now darling? You want more?” She frantically nodded, you couldn’t help but to laugh at her submission. “Alright darling, I’ll add another finger.” As stated, you added another finger. Her insides convulsed around your fingers and her body began trembling.

⌯ “Cumming so soon? Wow you must’ve been extremely horny to finish with only my fingers, I’ve barely even touched your clit.” At this point her moans were mixed with screams, anyone who walked in proximity of the door most likely knew what was going on. “Cum-cumming— oh my—“ her walls tightened, almost painfully around your fingers and you felt something shoot onto your wrist, you quickly looked down without stopping your pace and saw the most heavenly site.

⌯ You were occupied by the site of her squirting, you couldn’t hear how loud she was at first. When you realized it, you quickly moved the hand that was holding her hips down to her mouth and covered her screams. After her walls loosened around your fingers, you pulled them out and sat back down in your seat. “Clean off my hand.” You said raising your hand up to show her the mess she caused. Kirari weakly but persistently got off the table and knelt down in front of you, she began licking off her juices.

⌯ “You did very well today. I’m extremely proud of you.” You smiled at her and watched as her eyes lit up with joy. After she was finished cleaning off your hand, you patted your lap and courted her to sit down. She did and you wrapped your arm around her as she placed her head on your shoulder. “How are you feeling Kirari?” You heard a hum and sighed, you patted her back for a real answer. “I’m okay~” You nodded and took out a cloth from your pocket.

⌯ You folded it up and asked her to open up her legs, she did and you carefully began wiping away the excess until it was all gone. You tapped her hip with the hand that was already around her so she could close her legs. “Are you okay y/n?” She asked softly, almost like she was falling asleep. You nodded and told her everything was fine. You two then sat in silence and comforted each other, even closing your eyes and just listening to each other breathe.

⌯ “Kirari you should be going soon, I’m sure a lot of people heard us in here.” You lovingly rubbed her back and kissed her covered forehead. “I want to stay like this for a little bit more..” you thought about it for a moment then nodded. “Okay we’ll stay like this for as long as you need.”

[acciofanfics]

Tormented (Sirius Black x Reader) Part 5

Summary: (Y/N) leaves home right out of Hogwarts due to circumstances Sirius could definitely relate to. When he opens his home to her, things don’t go exactly as planned.

Pairing: Post Azkaban Sirius Black x FemReader

Warnings: I don’t think any?

A/N: So hopefully you guys won’t hate this, but I think I know where I wanna take this series AND I need to establish a little bit of feels? -S

——————————————————————-

Sirius felt like a young man again, and it was quite nice. Most of his youth hadn’t been picture perfect, with the Wizarding War and then spending 12 years wrongfully imprisoned for the murder of two of his closest friends. So, to be honest sneaking around with a beautiful young woman, was quite the welcome distraction from those thoughts. Perhaps their relationship had only intended to be sex, Sirius and (Y/N) hadn’t much talked about it. So honestly he wasn’t sure if it was his place or at all what she desired from him, but still he continued. “What’s going on?”

(Y/N) quickly wiped her eyes and stood up straight, hoping fo complete the lie with a convincing grin. “Nothing! I just got in and was about to come find you, I know that you just sit around and wait on me.”

Sirius chuckled slightly at her wink. She wasn’t entirely wrong, a lot of his days did seem to consist of that lately. However, she was completely mistaken if she believed the display would completely sway him from being concerned. “That very well may be, but first I’d like to know what’s wrong.”

Her smile faded into an annoyed gaze. Sirius wasn’t fond of being at the end of it. “It’s nothing, like I just said... really you’ll think I’m being silly. Which I am so it would make sense.”

He hoped that she really didn’t believe that. As much as he didn’t like the idea of her diminishing her own feelings he really didn’t enjoy feeling like she thought he would. “Try me.”

It took a moment for her to speak. Partly out of stubbornness and a bit out of trying to keep her voice from cracking. “I saw my mum in the shops and I know she saw me, but she acted like I didn’t exist. Which makes sense because I ran away and it’s not like I really expected any different they’re way too bloody prideful... and then I walked outside and I saw a poster with you on it and I grabbed it down because it’s stupid and then some git grabbed my arse and told me he’d keep me safe and not to be scared. See I’m being dumb...”

Sirius really wished he’d been there... even just as a dog he’d been able to bite the idiot. But for now he wanted to try to put his jealousy aside, “I want to show you something.”

She followed him up the stairs... (Y/N) did feel silly. She knew that she shouldn’t have gotten so upset about a choice she made. She should’ve been expecting as much; she was in fact living and sleeping with a man who was an escaped prisoner. Two weeks ago she would’ve gone as far as to say she barely knew him, but she didn’t really feel like that was the case anymore. When they entered a room she hadn’t been in before she shook herself from her thoughts and took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

The wallpaper was old and would’ve definitely appreciated to be better kept over the years, but for the most part it seemed to hold up well to the neglect. The green was faded and, but the branches and vines seemed mostly untouched expect for spots which appeared to be burnt in patches. Sirius pointed to his name, “My mother did that the day I ran away... she wasn’t the most pleasant woman.”

Paying more attention to the names and the context clues she concluded that it was their family tree. She’d known that this was his childhood home that he’d offered up to the headquarters, but she hadn’t ever seen this dreadful room. “How old were you?”

“16. You know I still don’t fancy coming in here really.” Sirius’ voice was soft and (Y/N) could tell what he was trying to do. She supposed that if anyone knew what she was feeling it was definitely him and she felt better.

“I’m sorry for being short earlier... I suppose the pride thing must run in the family.” She crossed her arms and leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. Her voice probably didn’t sound as sincere as she meant it, but she did mean it all the same and she was sure that Sirius knew. It was kind of odd. Honestly, she’d meant to come in and hopefully had him distract her from the emotions that bubbled up today, but... this was nice too.

Taglist: @iamabeautifulperson18 @santavhoney @acciovisio @rexorangecouny @kissyourdemons @susceptible-but-siriusexual @saoirseronanfanclub

If you’d like to be added or removed let me know.

[2sunchild2]

Maribat prompt where male!mari keeps his relationship with Damian a secret but it's revealed when Damian comes to visit his bf and Lila of course tries something, but Damian tells her he likes guys. Also male!marin who has Tom's physic.

K so I grew a pair to write and it’s back to pussyville I go

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Marino felt the other girls giggle when he and Adrien started talking. It was just about class work, he told them, honest. Alya let out a laugh, which made both boys turn to look at her. She was laughing at something Lila had said.

Marino rolled his eyes and looked down at Adrien to continue where they left off. He wasn’t at school the other day, something about him being sick. Adrien believed it (somewhat), Alya believed it, everyone believed it. His parents however, knew the truth. He had stayed up all night talk to his boyfriend from Gotham. He had been exhausted when he slept. So exhausted that he slept through his five alarms. His mom, bless her, decided against waking him up and called the school to inform them he would not be attending that day.

And Marino had a lot to catch up on.

“So I’ll see you at the library after school?” He asked Adrien hopefully. Sure, he could’ve asked Max, but Max didn’t know how to explain things. He was smart, yes, but he wasn’t capable of making someone else understand the material. That was something Adrien was good at.

“Don’t worry bug,” Adrien reached up and patted his shoulder lightly, “I am your partner after all.” And with a laugh the two boys made their way into the school, ignoring the Italian girl staring intently at Adrien.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

“How long until she finds out I’m ace?” That was the question that broke the silence of the study session between the two boys. Adrien chewed on his pen, a habit Marino knew he did when he was nervous.

“Do you want me to be honest?” The blonde nodded. “I don’t really know kitty. But I do know that if she hurts you, there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

“Dearest, you look exhausted,” the concern in his boyfriend’s voice was clear. Marino was slumped against his chair, sitting in an odd angle. Damian watched his boyfriend chug another cup of coffee through the screen of his computer. “I think it’s best that you rest,” that earned him a faint chuckle accompanied with a ‘haha that rhymes’ which only worried him more, “dearest, go sleep.”

When Marino shook his head for the fourth time, Damian knew something was wrong, “Dearest?” He looked up from his desk, looking tired and awful, “is everything okay? Are you alright?”

Marino hesitated before giving an answer, “I... I don’t know... I don’t know how to feel anymore Dami, I.... the girls.... Alya... always pushing me to ask out Adrien. I don’t want to ask him out. He’s not looking for a relationship and.... I have you,” his heart warmed a little at that statement, it didn’t stop the scowl for I guess on his face.

“I see... go rest dearest, I have some appointments I need to attend.”

Marino yawned and stretched, flexing his muscles in the process, “Goodnight, Dami,” he smiled tiredly.

“Goodnight, love.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

“Did you see the guy outside?”

“He’s so hot, oh my god!”

“Right? I’d tap that.”

The students whispered around the halls. A crowd formed in the courtyard to see the handsome mysterious man leaning against a sleek black Lambo. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he watched the students indifferently.

Lila walked out to see the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, and by the looks of his ensemble, he was rich, very rich. She worked her way through the crowd and graded onto one of the man’s arms, fluttering her lashes to seduce him, she dragged her finger along his arm, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

The man glared at her and attempted to get out of her grip. “No I am not. I am here to see someone, and it isn’t you,” he stiffly replied, his eyes roaming the crowd for a pair of familiar blue eyes. Nothing yet.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind waiting for you while I show you around~,” she purred, leaning closely against his face, her breath fanned his ear, but before he could say anything, he gripped her other wrist and tightened his hold.

“Never get near me, or I will press charges and you will be in contact with my lawyers,” he grit out, squeezing her wrist when she tried to escape, “ now run along to your posse and do not come near me again.”

“Your girlfriend wouldn’t have been too happy to see you with another girl, a gorgeous one at that,” Lila flipped her hair and began walking away but was stopped by his voice.

“Shame I have a boyfriend,” he checked his watch, “who should’ve left the building two minutes ago.”

Lila was at a loss of words. Boyfriend? He was gay? Who is it?

“Dami?” The unmistakable voice of Marino Dupain-Cheng called from the crowd. He wasn’t hard to miss either. The massive muscular blunette was easy to spot, thanks to the height he got from his father, he was accompanied by a shorter blonde who shooed people out of the way for them to pass.

“Dearest,” he breathed, “I hope you are well... who’s this?” He nodded his head towards Adrien who blushed and looked at the ground.

Marino put an arm around the boy, “this is my best friend, Adrien!”

“Well then, Adrien,” Damian started, would you like to accompany my boyfriend and I to dinner? My best friend is waiting for us and I’m certain he wouldn’t enjoy being the third wheel.” Adrien nodded excitedly.

“Wait!” Lila called putting, stopping the three boys in their tacks, Marino took a deep breath and squeezed Damian’s hand.

“What is it, harlot?” His harsh tone made her flinch.

“You’re gay?”

“Yes? What of it?” Damian challenged the girl. Surely she wouldn’t go as far to embarrass herself infornt of the entire student council. He watched until the girl turned red and decided to leave. They drove off and weren’t seen fo the rest of the evening.

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Permanent tag list: @thyladyanput @virgil-is-a-cutie

[calpalirwin]

Change Your Mind

Summary: Calum runs into an old flame

Word Count: 2.4k

And away, and away we go!

__

“C’mon!” Calum laughed, grabbing her hand and breaking out into a run, the night air cool on his face.

“Cal, wait!” she laughed along with him, breathless as he dragged her along. “My legs aren’t as long as yours!”

“Here!” he said, an idea coming to him. He stopped in his tracks, crouching slightly. “Hop on.”

She jumped on his back, wrapping her legs over his hips and her arms around his neck.

“Aw!” Michael’s girlfriend, Amanda, mock-pouted at the blonde, swatting at his arm. “Why can’t you carry me like that?”

Michael side-stepped away from his girlfriend. “I can either hold you, or the baby. Which is it?”

“Don’t you dare drop my baby, Clifford. That’s precious cargo.”

“Your baby? Last I checked it was our baby.”

“Cutest boy this world has ever seen!” Y/N called out from her spot on Calum’s back.

“Hey!” Calum protested, loosening his hold on her legs like he was gonna drop her.

“Calum!” she shrieked.

He laughed as he tightened his grip. “Better watch yourself.”

“You wouldn’t really drop me, would you?” Her voice was a whisper by his ear.

He tilted his head to the side to flash her a grin. “Never, baby. I’ll always catch you.”

“Mmm, you better,” she warned, kissing at his cheek.

“Fuck, this is amazing isn’t it?” Amanda asked as she laid down in the grassy field. “It’s like the whole world is spread out before us.”

“Today, high school graduates. Tomorrow… who knows! We’ll make it up as we go!” Michael said with a grin.

“Tomorrow, London,” Calum came up with his answer. “We’re gonna be rockstars, Mike.”

In that moment, staring up at the night sky, the four friends’ futures never looked brighter or more tightly intertwined.

~Ten Years Later~

“Mike? You get one of these too?” Calum asked, flashing an envelope with their high school crest on it.

“Yup,” Michael responded, not tearing his eyes away from the screen and the video game he was playing with his son, Lincoln. “Can’t believe it’s already been ten years.”

“I can,” came Amanda’s slight scoff. “We got the time stamp to prove it, Mikey.” She ruffled both her husband’s and son’s hair with either of her hands.

“You say ‘time stamp’ I say ‘son.’”

“You say ‘son’ I say ‘winner’!” the ten year old boy gloated, rising to his feet for a victory dance.

“What?!” Michael stared at the screen in disbelief, setting his controller aside. “How in the?!”

“In yo face!” Lincoln continued to boast.

“Oh, yeah?” Michael asked before charging to tickle his son’s sides while the boy broke out into a high-pitched giggle.

“Mikey, stop. The boy can’t breathe. Look, he’s turning pink,” Amanda scolded.

Michael let go, looking over at his wife innocently. “So, did you wanna go to this reunion?”

“Yeah. I’d love to see Y/N again. She hasn’t seen Link since he was a baby. Oh! And we can finally meet her daughter!”

“Babe!” Michael hissed, but the damage was done.

“Y/N has a daughter?” Calum asked, body snapping to attention.

“Yeah…” his friends admitted.

“Hmm… good for her. How old?”

“Uh…”

“How old is she?” Calum repeated, gritting his teeth, his brown eyes darkening.

“Cal…” Michael started, keeping his voice low. “She made us swear not to tell you.”

“HOW OLD IS SHE?!” Calum barked, grabbing Michael by the front of his shirt. “TELL ME!”

“9! She’s 9!” The woman told him, her voice shaking.

Calum released Michael, slumping back like he had the wind knocked out of him. “9?” he croaked, tears springing to his eyes. “Is she…?” He pointed at himself

Michael nodded. “Yeah, mate. Look, this wasn’t how you were supposed to find out...”

“How the fuck was I supposed to find out then?! You two lied to me for 9 fuckin’ years! She lied to me!”

“I know! But we didn’t want to! We begged her to tell you. But she had convinced herself it wasn’t worth bothering you about. That she’d figure out a way to tell you. Mate, you gotta believe me. We wouldn’t have hidden this from you if we had a choice.”

Calum hung his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this… I can’t believe this is happening… I think I’m gonna be sick…”

“D- do you want to see pictures?”

The man nodded, and Michael fiddled around on his phone. “I saved all the pictures into an album. Here.”

Calum took the phone in shaking fingers, slowly scrolling through someone’s lifetime. His daughter’s lifetime. “Fuck… she looks just like Y/N…”

“Funny. Y/N says she looks like you.”

“Yeah, I can see it a little in her face. Are my cheeks really that squishy?”

“Yes,” was the laughed response.

Calum sighed, passing the phone back. “So, when do we leave?”

~~~

Calum spotted her the second he walked in the hotel ballroom, nostalgia hitting him like a tidal wave. Every promise whispered on skin they had broken with goodbye flashed in his head like a movie as he made his way to her. He didn’t know if he was more angry, or just flat out crushed. “What’s her name?” he asked once he was in earshot.

“Wow. That’s gotta be a record for the Cliffords. Never were the type to keep a secret.”

“Don’t deflect the blame on them. What’s her name?”

“Ari.”

“Why?”

“Cuz she needed a name.”

Calum breathed slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he rephrased.

“It wasn’t your business.”

“Wasn’t my business?! She’s my daughter, Y/N!”

“Lower your fuckin’ voice!” she snarled, looking around the room before gripping his upper arm and pushing him outside like a scolded toddler.

“I want to meet her.”

Y/N scoffed. “Yeah. Fat chance of that happening.”

“Oh, so you're just gonna keep me from her for the second half of her life, too?”

“Half of her life? She’s 9, Calum.”

“That’s halfway to 18.”

“Not everyone leaves their family at 18 like you did Cal! Some people actually stay!”

“Excuse me?! That’s why?! You kept my daughter from me out of spite?! Because I had the guts to make something of myself?! In case you didn’t notice, Mike had the same story we did, and he got to do it with his kid!”

“You think you’re the only one who could be somebody?! I’ve busted my ass for the last decade to forget about all the promises we broke! And I did it all while raising the reminder of everything we were, and everything we were too scared we could be!”

“We were supposed to be somebodies together!”

“You left me!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose! I had to do what was best for me!”

“I did too!”

“I’m never gonna forgive you for this…”

“Good thing I never asked you to.”

“Oh, I can’t believe you! Who are you protecting? Her? Or you? I’m not the bad guy here. You’re the one who made a huge ass decision about our lives without talking to me about it.”

“Kinda like you did?”

“When did I ever do something without talking about it with you first?! I asked you to come with me to London. You didn’t want to. I said let’s try to make it work. You didn’t want that either.”

“We didn’t talk through shit, Cal. You talked. But you always had your mind made up before you ever opened your mouth. And you still do.”

“Then you should know that I’ll do whatever it takes to meet her.”

“Fine. She has a soccer game in the morning. I guess you could come to that.”

“She plays soccer?”

“Of course she plays soccer. She’s yours, ain’t she? Memorial Park. 9am. Don’t you dare be late.”

“I’ll be there. And hey, you look good by the way.”

“Ew,” she scoffed, but even in the dim lighting he saw her cheeks pinken. “You look… alright I guess. Your curls always did suit you better in my opinion.”

~~~

Even if Calum hadn’t seen the pictures of Ari, he would have been able to pick her out of a crowd with her wild, dark curls held out of her face in a ponytail as she ran about the field. Calum and Y/N sat in tense, but not uncomfortable silence next to each other in the stands before Calum finally spoke up at the start of the second half. “You know you robbed me of 9 years worth of mornings like this?”

“5, actually. She’s been playing since she was 4.”

“Was talking about mornings spent watching our daughter, but I’m glad you agree with me.”

“I didn’t ‘rob’ you out of spite, Calum. I know you already made up your mind that I did. And if that’s what you’re determined to believe, I don’t particularly care all that much. Like I said last night, it’s not like I’m asking you to forgive me.”

“If you think my mind’s made up, then you shouldn’t see an issue with telling me why. Humor me.”

“It’s because we didn’t need you. And I don’t say that to hurt you.”

He scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me. Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I thought about it a lot. But the longer time went on, the harder it became. I mean, I didn’t find out I was pregnant until you were already gone. I was 18 and alone. Did I make mistakes along the way? Yeah, probably. But I did what I thought was best. And calling you up in tears so you could give up your dream of being a rockstar to rescue us wasn’t on that list. I didn’t want you to resent me more than you already did.”

“I couldn’t resent you if I tried. And trust me… I tried. You should’ve told me.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. But we didn’t need you, Cal. And you didn’t need us. And all three of us turned into the people we were supposed to be.”

“Agree to disagree. You may not have needed me, but maybe I needed you guys. And maybe the person I was supposed to be was supposed to be a dad to our daughter. And I may not be able to get these last nine years back, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get the next nine. And all the years after that.”

She shook her head, eyes rolling behind her sunglasses. “It’s not that simple, Cal. You can’t undo the damage we dealt with some inspiring words.”

“And who’s fault is that? Look, I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy. But I want to be in her life. You gotta trust me here.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Cal. It’s not like you ran away. I mean, you did. But I had my chance to go with you. And I had my chance to try and make it work. And I haven’t asked you to forgive me because I don’t deserve to be forgiven. I had our two best friends lie for me because I was too scared to confront you myself. And I lied to myself by saying I was doing it for your sake. So you could live your dream. I saw how hard it was for Amanda and Michael in the beginning. I wanted better for us. And I’m willing to admit that maybe I went about it the wrong way. But playing these maybe/maybe not scenarios isn’t going to change the past.”

“I’m not looking to change the past, Y/N. I just want to be in her future. Don’t you think I have that right?”

“Yes. And that breaks my heart, Cal.”

“How does th-?” he asked in confusion, before the realization hit. “Oh… Because you made up your mind that I just want her. That I’ll never be over what you did to even contemplate wanting you too. Guess I’ll just have to change your mind.”

She blinked, not believing she heard him correctly. “Y- you want me too?”

“How could I want my daughter, and not the woman who gave her to me? Yes, I want you too.”

“Cal…” she warned tearfully. “If you’re lying, I’ll never forgive you.”

“And if I’m telling the truth?”

“I just might have to kiss you.”

“Pucker up, sweetheart. Been waiting 10 years for this kiss, so you can bet it’ll be a long one.”

“Who are you, and why are you trying to kiss my mom?” a small voice demanded.

Y/N snickered into her hand while Calum took in the girl with her hands on her hips and a fiery look in her eyes. “Ari, sweetheart, this is my old friend, Calum.”

Ari looked Calum up and down skeptically, her hands coming off her hips so she could cross her arms over her chest. “That answers the first part of my question…”

“Ari!” Y/N gasped in shock.

“What? I’m not wrong. Now, why are you trying to kiss my mom, Calum?” She cocked her head to the side waiting for an answer.

“Because that’s what adults do when they love each other,” Calum answered, taking the path of least resistance.

“No… when adults love each other they have se-”

Y/N’s eyes went wide as her hand flashed out to cover Ari’s mouth, pulling the girl towards her. “That’s enough out of you. Would you behave? Please?”

The girl huffed, rolling her eyes. “Fmm!” was the muffled response. She huffed again when her mouth was uncovered, hands brushing down the front of her jersey with unnecessary sass. “So, you love my mom?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

“Good. Because she loves you, too.”

“Oh, does she?” Calum asked with a smirk. “And how do you feel about me?”

“Mmmm… you’re alright I guess. As long as you don’t try to kiss my mom in front of me again.”

“Ari?” Y/N asked softly.

“What?! That was nice!”

“Get your stuff. I’ll meet you at the car.”

“Ew! You are gonna kiss him!” the girl squealed with a shudder, before running off to get her things.

“So, where were we?” Calum asked, rising to feet and closing the distance between him and Y/N.

“Right about here,” she breathed, stretching up on her toes to greet his lips.

“Ari! Who’s that kissing your mom?!” one of Ari’s teammates asked her as they giggled into their hands.

Both Y/N and Calum could hear the eye roll in their daughter’s voice as she answered with a sigh, “Oh, that’s just my dad.”

__

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[extremelyblackandwhite]

dusk until dawn

Pairing: Carter!Reader x James “Bucky” Barnes

To be honest I forgot I had this in my drafts, have fun reading my very old imagine about bucky. 

Inspired by Madilyn Bailey’s cover of Dusk Till Dawn. If you want to listen to it while reading it, click here.

“Can you feel why you're in this? Can you feel it through? All of the windows Inside this room...”

Y/N Carter didn’t remember much. If she was being honest, she had spent the last years of her life trying to erase memory fo the world outside. Erasing the memories of her family, of her sister, of her work back at SHIELD. Her life had been a bleak, blank sheet of paper ever since she had been kidnapped from her work place by HYDRA and tossed into a windowless cell whose walls she’d spent the last two years staring at. There was nothing new to her routine unless they decided to take her out to torture her in order to get information that she simply didn’t have. As Howard Stark said all the time, Y/N Carter was a “lab dweller”, she lived in the labs, she worked as Biomedical Scientist, barely even working within research unless some quick analyses were required. However, she was Peggy Carter’s sister and somehow that was all that mattered to HYDRA.

Today was different, though. A man dressed in a suit had arrived at her cell way earlier than the guards normally did and ordered her to get a lab coat on and follow him through the lowest lighted hall into a big metal door. She stood behind him, her hands shackled as he pressed a code into the door and scanned his eye which caused the door to open giving view to a room full of scientists, guards and doctors running around. The man clearly seemed important to Y/N, he was much better dressed than everyone and every single type of person inside that room seemed to stop as he walked into the middle of the room, his eyes settling on someone sat on a chair surrounded by various machines. Y/N couldn’t really see who it was until the man placed her by his side. He was handsome, maybe way more handsome than the men she normally used to meet back home. However, he was in pretty bad shape. He seemed to be in catatonic state, not even replying to sound stimuli.

      - Miss Carter, I’d imagine you’ve seen some of your operatives in catatonic state back in SHIELD. - he finally spoke to her, a thick American accent. Almost posh, as posh as the men had when her parents threw her a debutant ball. He was not German, he was not Russian, he was American. - I imagine you as a SHIELD operative must know how to deal with situations like this.

     - I’m a level 2 sparrow, sir. I barely even get to see operatives unless we’re under emergency situations. I’ve told this before to your people, I’m of no use for ....

     - Now, save your cries Miss Carter. - he turned to face her, taking a key out of his pocket and unlocking her shackles. - You’re an asset to HYDRA now and if you wanna survive you’ll do as I say. 

Her eyes locked with the man who was sat down at the chair. He looked familiar to her, way too familiar but she just couldn’t pinpoint who he was. Anyway, his demeanour was still the same. His way was messy, a far cry from the boys back home and his face had a bit of stubble. She didn’t know how long he had been there but it looked like it had been for way longer than a man in catatonic state should.

     - Here’s the deal, Miss. Your job is to fix our operative, fast. - he said, placing his hands on his pockets. - If your talents don’t serve you than maybe try and use your female charms.

     - Excuse me. - she turned abruptly, disgusted by what had just came out of his mouth. The man chuckled, as he along with his staff started to walk towards the metal door, locking it and leaving them two alone there. The young woman sighted, trying her best not to start crying at her predicament. She just wanted to go home, she just wanted to go back to what she knew. Y/N returned to the man, looking at the machines around him trying to figure out what they meant as most of them had Russian writing on it yet to no avail. She had no idea how to bring someone out of catatonic state. - Can you raise your arm if you can hear me, please?

The man raised his right arm, keeping the left one on the leg of the chair, bounded, which was only when she noticed that it was made of metal. She would’ve been lying if she said that her curiosity didn’t spark. Nonetheless, his face still seemed frozen in stone.

     - I’m not gonna harm you. - she placed herself in front of him. - But I can’t help you if you don’t help me realise what’s wrong. 

He still didn’t tell her anything or moved his eyes away from the wall. She did know he could hear her and if he could hear her she could find a way to help this man who maybe she shouldn’t help. She looked around trying to figure out how to force him to react. It crossed her mind to unbound his metal arm but she wondered why it was bound. Was he violent? Could he move it? Maybe she should’ve gone through it more deeply but she found herself unbounding it.

This seemed to jerk a reaction in him as he raised it quite quickly, his eyes setting on it almost like this was a foreign object to him, which, somehow, it was. She stood a bit further from him not knowing exactly what to do. That was until she pushed her by the arm, bringing her almost face to face with him. Her heart was rushing, was she about the be killed? She closed her eyes, trying to set her mind somewhere else, home. When the pain didn’t come she peaked through only to see the man raising this metal hand and placing her hand in front of it. Her hand was small compared to his, but it was a hand, he could feel her hand.

    - Can you feel my hand? - she asked almost dumbfounded. She knew of people getting prosthetics in research but they couldn’t feel a thing. They lacked a nervous system and metal didn’t have one so how could he? - You can feel my hand, can’t you?

   - Yes. - he spoke hoarsely. 

   - My name is Y/N Carter, I’m a trained biomedical scientist, I can’t harm you. I wouldn’t know how to. - she tried to gain his trust. It was true, she couldn’t harm him. Her sister and brother were skilled fighters but she wasn’t. She couldn’t fight, specially couldn’t fight him.

   - That’s quite enough, Miss Carter. 

The days started changing for Y/N, she would be brought in every day whenever the man was anxious, violent or even return to his catatonic state. She still didn’t know who he was, whenever she tried to understand who he was, he would either grow violent or start ignoring her. However today, he just seemed to not be in it, he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to do anything. 

  - Winter. - she had grown to call him Winter after reading in a file that that’s the handle they’d given him. - You’re awfully quiet. 

  - They’re gonna put me there again. - he spoke quietly. If she had been distracted she wouldn’t even have listened. - They’re gonna put me to sleep again.

  - I don’t know what you’re talking about. - she raised her hand to rest on his cheek which he wasn’t expecting. - I’m not gonna let them hurt you, I promise you.

  - They already did.

“'Cause I wanna touch you, baby and I wanna feel you, too. I wanna see the sunrise and your sins just me and you ...”

Winter had been right, they did put him to sleep but not before they put her. Between all the mess, whenever he closed his eyes and got put inside the Cryostasis Chamber he could hear her screaming as they shoved her inside one of the pods.

Nonetheless, she was the first to be taken out of it. She had been woken up in the mid 90′s to learn from whatever’s new in the world and would never see the Winter Soldier. That was until now with Pierce. 

   - You know, Miss Carter, had this been any different, I would’ve made you my wife. - he said as he walked into a underground lift. - My grandfather always spoke of how beautiful you were. Seems like he was right.

   - You harm innocent people. - she snickered right back. She had realised long ago they wouldn’t get rid of her. If she was useless they would’ve let her die, they wouldn’t had gone through the trouble of injecting her with the super soldier serum and have her around. - I wouldn’t marry you even if you were the last man alive.

  - Miss Carter, you out of all people should known that to make a better world you have to destroy the old one. - he entered a room along with her. - Asset, you’ve done a great job with Fury. You know I’m a man of my word, I promised to bring him back and here she is. 

  - Winter. - she rushed towards him. He looked up to see her, exactly the same as he remembered her, same face, same eyes, same hair. - What have they done to you?

 - Remember Miss Carter, I reward my followers.

“And you’ll never be alone, I’ll be waiting from dusk til dawn, I’ll be waiting from dusk til dawn ... baby I’ll be right here”

[zanesgirlfriend]

Excuses | Vlog Squad

Description: The readers boyfriend abuses her and she finally runs out of excuses.

Requested?: yes by anonymous : can u do a imagine where ur dating an abusive boyfriend and the vlog squad finds out

Warnings: Physical and mental abuse!!!

A/N: i tried to make this as realistic and angsty as possible, but ive never been abused thankfully and i only vaguely remember what happened between my parents so sorry if its not as realistic as you’d hoped!!

_____

“I tripped over the curb of the sidewalk.”

“I was trying to slide down the stairs in a cardboard box and it did not go so well.”

“I slipped in the shower.”

She always had an excuse for what he did to her. Her love for him was stronger than the pain and hate deep inside. Love always wins, right? At least that’s what she told herself. It’s not like she had a new injury every day, but every few weeks she would cry in the shower as she thought of some clumsy thing that could realistically cause the bruises. Her friends always called her the clumsy one. She would pretend to trip in the background while they were filming just to make her story more believable. Little did they know that she couldn’t cover up what was about to happen.

“You fucking bitch.” He screamed at her as soon as he walked in the door. She felt the tears already starting to form as she ran through all the things she could’ve done wrong. She hated disappointing him and making him mad. He walked into the kitchen of their apartment and opened up the fridge for a beer. “I told you to stop hanging out with them.” He slammed the fridge door and twisted off the top to his Corona.

“They’re my friends.” She defended herself, immediately regretting the words as they left her mouth. He walked towards her, causing her to wince.

“First I see you at a party without me in one of their videos, and now you’re talking back to me?” He hollered. She backed up as far as she could into the corner of the couch. Her ears were ringing as he continued to raise his voice. He went on and on before a tear slipped her eye. “Oh, now you’re crying. The little pussy is fucking crying. Yeah, I picked a real good one, didn’t I?” He watched her stand up and walk towards the bathroom before digging his fingers into her arm.

“Where are you going?” He pulled her towards him.

“To the bathroom.” Her voice was mousy and she was shaking as she answered him.

“I’m not done fucking talking to you!” He threw her to the ground with a thud. She let out a small whimper as he climbed on top of her. “You deserve this.” He punched her cheek with a hard fist. “You’re probably cheating on me with one of your ‘friends’ right?” His fist popped her jaw. “You fucking that David guy?” His left hand hit her other cheek. “Or is it Jeff?” His knuckles hit her right eye. “This is for those wimpy fucking tears.” He punched her eye again, immediately causing it to swell.

She was knocked out by the second punch, and didn’t wake up until he was already gone the next morning. Her body struggled to leave the floor, but she eventually made it into the bathroom. Her face was throbbing, and her eye was swollen shut. Her one working eye slowly opened and looked into the mirror. She was horrified. Her face was purple and blue. The left side of her face had a swollen cheek and jawline, and her right eye was almost the size of an orange.

She cried for hours.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She muttered to herself over and over as she attempted to cover her face with makeup. It didn’t work. The water in the shower stung her face as she cleaned her body. She sat on the edge of her bed for a while as she thought over her relationship. It was all her fault. She should’ve told him about the party. She should’ve never talked back. She was wrong, and he was right. That’s always how it is.

The ringtone of her long abandoned phone scared her. She found it in between the couch cushions, and noticed all the texts and calls from her friends. They loved her, but he loved her more, right? Her phone rang again. It was Zane.

“Hello?” She squeaked out.

“Hey baby, how are you?” She could practically hear his smile through the phone. She cleared her throat.

“Hey Zane, I’m not the best. I walked into a pole, so my face is pretty messed up.” She chuckled, the excuse leaving her lips almost automatically.

“Y/n, how are you so clumsy? Send me a picture! Also come hang out with us, David needs more people for a bit anyways.” Zane proposed. Her heart raced. She couldn’t let him see her like this.

“I don’t know, I messed myself up pretty bad, so I don’t really want anyone to see me, it’s kinda embarrassing.” She giggled at the end and realized she was still only wrapped in a towel. She dug through her closet for clothes to wear.

“It can’t be that bad, pleaseeeeeee come over? We miss you!” He begged. She convinced herself that her excuse would work and agreed to go hang out.

A hat and sunglasses adorned her face as she speed-walked through the garage of her building. She repeated her excuse over and over during the car ride to David’s as if she was afraid she would forget it and mention what really happened to her.

“Hey.” She muttered and closed the door behind her.

“Hey, y/n!” Natalie smiled at her.

“Where have you been?” Erin asked.

“What’s with the hat?” Todd asked. Everyone’s attention was on her and she hated it.

“I, uh, I walked into a pole. I’m surprised Zane didn’t tell you about it, it was pretty funny.” She attempted to spin the attention onto Zane, but everyone was still staring at her.

“Let us see.” David said softly, putting his camera down.

They wouldn’t leave her alone. She felt her anxiety course through her body. After minutes of begging, she realized she couldn’t just not show them her face, and slowly lifted her head.

Her hat was removed and she slowly took off her sunglasses, looking at her beloved friends through one eye.

“Oooh.”

“What the fuck?”

“A pole did that?”

She stuttered and stammered and repeated the whole ‘I ran into a pole’ thing.

“How did you run into a pole with both sides of your face?” Jeff questioned, and everyone else started to wonder too. Y/n felt any tears she had left queue up behind her eyes. She was ready to explode.

The group started to register what was really going on and chased after her as she ran back outside.

“David, close the gate!” Natalie screamed at him. He grabbed the clicker and hit the button, hoping he did it fast enough.

Y/n attempted to back out of his driveway, but couldn’t slip through the gate quick enough. She broke down. Put the car in park and just cried. They banged on her windows, begging her to let at least one of them in. They whispered to themselves about the situation as they waited for her to come around.

“Y/n, we love you, and we just want to know what’s going on!” Mariah spoke loud enough for her to hear it through the window. She opened her one eye and looked at the group surrounding her. Her heart was torn in two, conflicted about weather or not to choose her friends or her boyfriend.

She looked at her phone.

Where’s your car?

Why aren’t you home?

Where the fuck are you????

Get your ass back here right now.

His texts made her cry even more. Her friends were right and she couldn’t take it anymore. Her window rolled down slowly.

“Can I just talk to the girls for a while?” She sheepishly asked the group. Everyone nodded and she finally got out of the car. The girls huddled around her and brought her back inside into Natalie’s room.

She looked down at her lap as she explained everything. The yelling, the mistakes, the abuse. All of it. When she looked back up all the girls had tears rolling down their faces. She looked around at all the girls that had her back. Mariah, Natalie, Carly, and Erin. Plus all of the boys and other friends that weren’t there. A huge wave of relief left her shoulders as she hugged the group.

“We’re gonna make sure he gets what he deserves.” Carly told her.

“Yeah, and you can stay here if your apartment is too scary.” Natalie added. “We can treat every night like a cute little sleepover!” She attempted to brighten the mood. Y/n smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time.

Erin explained what happened to the boys and they all ran into Natalie’s room. Y/n winced out of instinct, but relaxed into the tight hug of all the boys.

“Thank you guys for caring about me.” She smiled to all of her friends.

“Thank you fo-” David started, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Where’s y/n?” Her boyfriend peered past David, searching for her in the house.

“How’d you get in here, the gate’s closed?” He asked, somewhat intimidated by the man.

“I know she’s here. I saw her location.” He ignored David’s question.

“She’s not, you need to leave.” David asserted, but the man wasn’t in the mood to take orders.

“Y/n!” He screamed, pushing past David and into the house. All of her old thoughts came rushing back as soon has she heard his voice. She started for the door, but Zane pulled her back.

“No, he’s not good for you.” He whispered to her as Jeff, Todd, and Scott went out into the hallway. Natalie shut and locked the door, not wanting the man to get near y/n.

Should I call the police?

Nat texted David, wondering if the boys could handle him.

Yes. Now.

He replied and she immediately dialed 911.

“I have the right to see my girlfriend!” He screamed as the boys kept pushing him back into the living room. David turned on his camera and placed it on the table, knowing it would be good for evidence.

“You don’t have the right to beat her up! Now, get the fuck out of here!” Todd screamed back. The man threw the first punch, hitting Todd in the nose. Jeff punched the man in return, but he was stronger than Jeff and landed one to his jaw. All three of the guys put their weight on the man, pinning him to the ground.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jeff asked him, mad that he even had the audacity to come get y/n.

“Our relationship has nothing to do with you, now let me the fuck go, you meathead!” He spit at the boys and struggled under their weight. Y/n cried into Zane’s chest as all of the girls listened to the yelling and thuds of bodies hitting the floor.

“It’s not a fucking relationship, it’s abuse.” David added in from across the room.

“Oh, yeah, why don’t you get over here, pretty boy? I can take you!” He screamed from the floor.

David texted Natalie again, asking the status of the police.

Almost here, make sure the gate is open

He opened the gate and walked outside. The police showed up and he led them inside to the pile of men on the floor.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as they watched him get in the squad car. Police received statements from everyone and took a USB of the footage from David’s camera. Y/n spent an hour telling them everything he did to her, before everyone took a group trip to the hospital. Todd’s nose was broken, but everyone else was fine. Y/n got treated for her wounds from the previous night. She spent the next month at David’s house, too scared to sleep alone in her apartment. David posted a ten minute video about the signs of abuse in a friend, and used his platform to raise awareness on domestic abuse. Y/n was astounded by the overwhelming support of her friends, and was happier than she’d ever been before.

The crooked man spent a very long time in jail.

[omgviolette12]

Dark Morning

An AU Loki fic

Summary:  Lita sourly regretted going to his office. She should’ve stayed home, to work on her manuscript. Then she would head out to the daycare, and watch her cute little son play for a bit. Live in her ignorant bubble. But no, she just had to make him lunch, didn’t she?

Chapters: 1/3

Pairing: Loki/Original Character

Words: 1767

Warning: Angst, Implied/Referenced cheating

A/N :  A sad fic to match the gloomy, rainy weather rn. I love reading heartbreaking shit on occasion, so enjoy this two-shot of depression. Sorry not sorry. Inspired by @voila-tout‘s fic, “Little Do you Know”

—————————-

Lita could no longer feel her arms or legs.

Hours had passed since she stumbled into the house, lost and broken. It took tremendous effort just to remove her jacket wet from the rain, moving sluggishly to the large window inside their bedroom. She slumped downward slowly, perching on its edge.

How much time went by, she was unsure. Three hours? Five, perhaps? Judging from the darkening skies, she surmised that it’s been a while. She was starving, but no matter how hard she tried to move her limbs, her gaze remained transfixed to the streets below.

She hated it, the feeling of helplessness. The deafening silence and darkness of the room. It engulfed her, helping the horrid memories that she encountered hours before to replay inside her mind’s eye like a broken, filthy record.

Loki, her beautiful husband, making love to a woman that was not her.

Lita didn’t think she’d ever forget the way he gripped the flesh of the woman’s backside, his wedding ring glinting cruelly against her irises as he aided his lover into riding him. Was she so insignificant, a fleeting thought, that he didn’t even bother to remove it?

Her limbs tightened further at the thought. She wanted to cry and scream, do anything but just stare blankly into space. But her body refused to listen, as if it was turned to stone. Besides that, she was supposed to pick up their son. The daycare must be worried sick.

Perhaps…she was the problem. Surely she was. The burden of her growing sadness since the passing of her sister was too much for him to bear, so he needed a release.

She was always a helpless burden, when was she never? She was so surprised when he got down on his knees to propose to her, all those years ago. Someone so perfect, so good looking, treating a plain woman like herself with so much adoration she did not deserve.

Lita’s sex drive wasn’t particularly high, but she attempted to please him in whatever way she could. She loved him, so whenever they were intimate, she loved it as well. It was passionate, searing, and wonderful.

Eventually, they gave birth to a child. Loki loved the fact that their son had her eyes. He stated it made him all the more beautiful. That he couldn’t wait to have plenty more.

But judging from what she’d seen, his appetite was much larger, much darker than whatever she could offer.

Lita sourly regretted going to his office. She should’ve stayed home, to work on her manuscript. Then she would head out to the daycare, and watch her cute little son play for a bit. Live in her ignorant bubble. But no, she just had to make him lunch, didn’t she?

She never did something like that before in the years they’d been together because she was always busy, so she wanted to surprise him with something special. Lita had an inkling she’d been neglectful to his feelings for a while now, what with the stress of deadlines for her novel and her sick sister.

Janet, Lita’s now-deceased sister, was her only family left. So Loki was especially sympathetic. He didn’t even give an indication that her changing moods distressed him, reassuring her with the same glowing smile and attentiveness each and every time she felt low. And goodness were those times horrible. Even before she met Loki, she would have periods of overbearing sadness. It would hit her like a freight train. Unexpected, unsuspecting. She wouldn’t even wish it on her worst enemy.

So like the good wife she was, she decided to bring him lunch in order to show some appreciation. Loki loved her cooking, after all.

She should’ve found it strange when the secretary that was usually seated at the desk was nowhere to be found. She’d frequented his workplace in the past, and Loki kept his employees on a strict timetable. The tall, pretty woman should’ve been at the desk, her lunch break not for another half hour.

But Lita brushed it off. Whatever emergency that woman had was none of her business. Or so she thought.

It was like a blade had slashed her heart when she heard the sounds coming from her husband’s office.  She stepped closer to the source of the sound, heart hammering. The door was left ajar.

“Sir, please…I’m yours,”

“Then ride me like the good girl I know you are. Then maybe, I’ll let you cum this time.”

“Yes… yes, please! I love it, I love your cock,”

“So fucking tight…”

Lita could’ve sworn she almost fainted right then and there.

She stumbled backward as if the wind had been knocked out of her by an invisible force.

The food she took time to prepare fell to the floor, the contents spilling from the box with a loud thump. But even with that, the pair within the room was absorbed in their own world, unhearing.

Her legs felt like lead. She made her way slowly towards the elevator, clicking the button to return to the ground floor.

From that moment onward, it was as if she was in a trance. The greetings from the employees that knew her fell on deaf ears as she made her exit, her movements slow and painful. She wanted to run, get away as fast as possible, but it was like walking against the unrelenting waves of the ocean.

Lita reached home eventually…and from that moment on, her body became a part of the windowsill.

Loki, and hopefully their son, should be home any minute now. Lita dreaded to see him. To see him smile, as if nothing was wrong. His touch. She’d much rather disappear.

Unfortunately, she was right. Lita heard the tell-tale beeping of the security code being entered, as heavy footsteps eventually came into earshot.

————————————————————

As soon as his meeting ended, Loki rushed out in a panic. Everyone in the meeting room could tell he was anxious for whatever reason, and he confirmed their suspicions when the normally calm, stoic boss was out the door in seconds, ending the meeting early.

He received a troubling call that his wife had yet to pick up their son. It made the knot in his throat worsen.

His anxiety began when his secretary - Clara, if he could recall her name correctly - made a strange inquiry as soon as she left his office, skirt ruffled from their weekly tryst.

Loki wasn’t sure when it started. Lita was a wonderful, beautiful woman. He loved her to hell and back, and that love only grew in their years together. She was passionate whenever they made love, and a caring mother to their son, a child he loved dearly. However…there were certain limits that she made clear she wouldn’t and couldn’t surpass, whether it was sexual or otherwise.

He never once blamed her, or judged her for it. Loki understood from the moment he fell for her, that some of his wants would never be fulfilled. He thought he could manage, that the love he had for her would be enough to curb his darker desires. But apparently, he was wrong.

Clara was like a flame, and he was the moth. Whatever Lita refused to do, Clara did it without hesitation. Did he love her? No, but she was addicting. Thrilling. Once the rush was there, it was hard to let go - despite the guilt that slowly ate away at his heart.

And that slow, burgeoning guilt and paranoia raised its head once more whenever Clara left his office.

“Huh? What is this?!”

He heard Clara’s startled voice from the door, and he made his way to her to see what was wrong.

Food was spilled all over the carpeted floor, the ornate box that housed its contents tipped to the side.

Loki’s heart plummeted. He recognized that lunchbox.

“Who would just come here and spill food all over?! Don’t worry sir, I’ll call the janitor-“

“Leave it.” His eyes were transfixed to the box, panic slowly overtaking his body. “…Oh? But-“

“Clara,”

He nearly hissed, his eyes cold and unfriendly, “ You have somewhere to be, do you not?”

Clara’s eyes widened at his tone, entirely different from the man she was with moments prior. She hurriedly scurried away when his expression grew more severe.

Loki was alone now, and he stared at the box. Perhaps it was a coincidence? The box wasn’t particularly unique, so surely it belonged to someone else. Lita had no reason to come all the way out to his building, especially when she was already so stressed. But the contents…they were all his favorite things to eat.

He took out the phone that was in his suit pocket, his hands trembling as he dialed Lita’s number.

Her soothing voice immediately entered his ears, meaning it had gone to voicemail.

Loki tried several more times, and the result was the same. This wasn’t an odd occurrence, actually. Whenever she concentrated on writing, she was practically deaf to the world. But this still unnerved him.

That was all he thought about as he begrudgingly went to his meeting. He could hardly focus as his employees spoke, running through all the possibilities as to why that lunch box was there. Did Lita ask someone to bring it up for her, and they were clumsy enough to spill it? Surely she would’ve cried and screamed at him, confronted him about his unfaithfulness if she came herself. Just imagining that scene tore at his heart.

His thoughts came to an abrupt end when his cell-phone interrupted the chatter in the room, and he hurriedly checked it. Was it Lita..?

No. Instead, it was the daycare company that took care of their son while they both worked. If they were calling him at this time, something must be wrong. He signaled for the people in the room to hush as he picked up the call.

“Hello, is this Mr. Laufeyson speaking?”

“…Yes, this is he.”

“Your wife was supposed to come for Uri over an hour ago, and she’s not answering our calls. Is it possible for you to pick him up at this time?”

And that was when he ended the meeting abruptly, rushing out the door.

He hurried home after picking up his son, Uri babbling nonsense in his safety seat at the back of the car. This was so unlike Lita, to leave their son for a prolonged period of time. 

There was something wrong, and he hoped dearly that it wasn’t the reason he feared.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars IX (Harry Potter xFem!Oc)

A/N: Ron, Harry, and Mel share one braincell when they’re left alone and that’s valid.

Words: 3,684

Warnings: None!

Series’ Masterlist

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Chapter Nine: The Duel.

"Don't you get tired of listening to his voice?" Mel pushed her empty plate away, "Every. Bloody. Morning."

"Don't listen to him," Hermione replied distractedly, her attention on the book in front of her, "only idiots believe him"

The second week started with a notice saying that the flying lessons would start on Thursday, and Gryffindor would share their lessons... with Slytherin.

So obviously, Malfoy had been telling stories non-stop about his flying abilities, and Mel was sick of it.

Hermione was nervous as well, Mel soon learned to divide her time between the boys and her:

She shared her desk with Hermione, Mel paid more attention during class if they were sitting together. During her free time, she would stay with the boys, since Hermione had a -quite unhealthy- habit of studying after class, and she didn't like to be disturb.

She was a nice friend overall, offering her help in subjects that were making Mel's life difficult, and even had a functional sense of humor. The only problem was that she was too demanding.

Mel tried to make her see that she needed to calm down, it wasn't fun to be surrounded by books all the time, but Hermione didn't listen.

Hermione was on edge, she closed her book and rambled about Quidditch techniques that didn't actually sound useful unless you were a professional, Mel could sense the rest of the kids getting tired of her friend's chat, but luckily, she didn't have to interrupt, because the mail arrived at that moment.

Neville's grandmother sent him a remembrall: it turned red as soon as he touched it. Malfoy was passing by and decided he wanted to cause trouble.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, ready to fight. Professor McGonagall appeared soon and calmed their nerves, once the boys sat back Mel leaned in to whisper:

"You complain about me trying to fight older students but you're always trying to find excuses to punch Malfoy"

"Well, he deserves it," Ron replied, "Malfoy's a little-"

"If you could get close enough to touch one of his hairs, Crabbe and Goyle would turn you into pulp without using magic, so don't even think about it," Mel warned him, "let's focus on the important task at hand: not die on our first flying lesson."

Everyone was reasonably afraid of what could happen, however, once the class started, as most of her other lessons, it wasn't that much of a trouble. Her broom obliged in the first try, and she listened to the proper ways to mount it and how to keep a steady grip on it with full interest.

'Baby steps', she thought in relief.

But baby steps weren't enough with someone like Neville, who somehow managed to break his wrist.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" Malfoy asked loudly once Madam Hooch, the teacher, was out of sight.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Patil scowled at him.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a girl just as unlikeable as Malfoy. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry babies, Parvati."

"What about you, Pansy?" Mel pushed some kids away so she could see her, "Do you relish on laughing stupidly at everything that passes through Malfoy's bird-brain? Or is your brain as small as his?"

Before Pansy could reply, Malfoy picked up something from the floor.

"It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly, standing next to Mel.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect – how about – up a tree?" Malfoy smiled.

"Give it here!"

Malfoy mounted his broomstick and took off.

"Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry listened, grabbing his broom with spite.

"No!" shouted Hermione, "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."

"Hermione's right, Harry," Mel added, "forget about the rest, you can't afford getting expelled!"

Harry, impulsive as ever, ignored both. Mel knew that Harry was a proud boy, that also meant he could get in trouble as much as her, if not more.

The next few minutes were something next to impressive: Harry seemed to finally have found his place; the broom and the boy united by an invisible bond.

Something grew in her chest as she watched him fly, something similar to joy, she couldn't quite pin-point what was it. She just knew she liked the way he looked while flying. Mel also knew that it didn't mean she was happy about what was going on.

She walked over to Ron and slapped his arm.

"Ouch!" He glared at her, "Why did you do that?"

"You didn't stop him! You should've helped us to change his mind!"

"For what?" He frowned, "Malfoy's an idiot and Harry's making him look like a fool, watch!"

Mel didn't want to, but she forced herself to watch. At that very moment, Draco was throwing the ball far up in the air, descending rapidly as Harry quickly followed the remembrall'strayectory. She held her breath and watched her friend plummeting to a practically unstoppable, awful crash.

He caught the ball, and a foot before colliding against the grass he expertly readjusted his broom in a matter of seconds. Safe again, he landed softly.

Mel's stomach did an odd flip as she watched, amazed by her best friend's skills. She had the impression that the feeling on her chest was something not so normal, but she forgot about it a second later.

"HARRY POTTER!"

The girl gulped at hearing the voice, blood draining from her face.

"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts– how dare you... might have broken your neck –"

McGonagall could hardly form a sentence, she was pissed.

"It wasn't his fault, Professor –"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil –"

"But Malfoy –"

"That's enough, Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

'He's expelled', Mel thought, panicking as she watched McGonagall take Harry away, 'this is it, Harry's not coming back.'

"This is YOUR FAULT!" She yelled at Malfoy.

"Mel!" Ron followed his friend, who was sprinting towards the Slytherin student.

"It's not my fault he wasn't fast enough," Malfoy sneered, "he deserves it-"

She grabbed him by the collar of his robes.

"The only person that deserves something it's you, and it's a kick in the-!"

"What's going on?" Madam Hooch had returned, "Why are you screaming like that, Dumbledore? Let go of Malfoy! And where's Potter?"

"McGonagall took him away, Madam Hooch," Lavender replied, "he got in trouble."

"I see," She gave them all the same stern look, "well, let's continue the class, shall we? Potter and Longbottom can catch up later..."

But Mel was having a hard time focusing. How could she, when her best friend was about to get expelled? Everything was over, and it was all fault of his stupid impulsiveness!

The worst part was that she couldn't even scowl him properly because he would be terribly sad, and she didn't want to make it worse.

She left the grounds with teary eyes, Ron walking quietly beside her. It looked like he wanted to say something, maybe he couldn't find the right words or he wasn't familiar with how to make girls feel better.

Hermione found the right words, though. She managed to not mention what she obviously thought about Harry so Mel wouldn't get more upset.

"You won't be alone, you know? You still have me and Ron Weasley, although I don't know why you enjoy spending time with him. Neville's also here, and he's much more interested in school than the other boys. You don't have to cry, Mel. You'll be fine."

"Harry won't be," She pouted, "you don't know the way his relatives treat him, it's an absolute nightmare! And... And now I won't be there to help!"

She didn't know why she felt so guilty, maybe it was because she hadn't insisted enough, maybe she just cared a lot about him. Either way, she found herself completely powerless, again.

When Harry met them for dinner, he was anything but sad. She examined his attitude for a second before saying, in a very confused tone:

"You weren't expelled."

Harry blinked in surprise.

"How did you know?"

"Your eyes are really shiny," She pointed out.

"Oh?" Harry tilted his head, "Thank you?"

"I mean," Mel blushed, "you look happy"

"I am," Harry smiled, "you won't guess what happened..."

Harry told them that McGonagall introduced him to Oliver Wood, the captain of the Quidditch team. Now, Harry was:

"Seeker?" Ron repeated, "But first-years never – you must be the youngest house player in about –"

"– a century," said Harry, eating happily, "Wood told me. I start training next week. Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Mel was beaming, but she still was mad. Considering that her friend had had several good news for a day, she allowed herself a bit of relief and punched Harry's shoulder.

Harry groaned with his mouth full.

"Wha' was that fo'?"

"You fool! You absolute idiot!" She exclaimed, "I hope this is the last time you do something so stupid, it won't help my anxiety if you keep throwing yourself into this kind of problems!"

"What are you saying? You're no different!" Ron replied in disbelief, "You should've seen her when you left, Harry. She was ready to kill Malfoy-"

"Not true!"

"It is! I saw Malfoy's face, he thought you were going to rip his head off!"

"He's a coward, of course he got scared..."

She looked away to avoid Harry's little smirk and noticed Fred and George Weasley walking up to them, she grumbled under her breath.

"Not them..."

"Well done," said George as they arrived, "Wood told us. We're on the team too – Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"By the way, now that we're here..." George added, leaning to catch Mel's eye, "we wanted to ask you something"

"What thing?"

"Exactly how many liberties do you have as the Headmaster's grand-daughter and would you be interested in helping with a few-"

"I don't have any liberties," She said coldly, "I won't help you with your silly pranks now or never. I promised my mum I would stay away from trouble, and you two are always causing it. Also, I'm her niece, not grand-daughter"

"Are you saying you don't like us?" Fred raised a brow.

"I didn't say that. I just prefer to ignore you exist, that way I stay out of all the mischief."

"Unless someone is messing with you," Ron whispered to Harry, who smiled in complicity as a reply.

"Shut up, Ronald," Mel scowled.

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

"And Mel," George smirked, "have fun staying out of trouble"

She turned to face Ron.

"What a way to support me, Weasley"

"I was just being honest!"

"Well, keep your honesty away in times like this, alright?" She crossed her arms, "Your brothers annoy me..."

"What did they ever do to you?" Ron asked.

"They just... I don't know," Mel replied, "they're too problematic"

"I think you like them," Harry teased.

"I don't!" She exclaimed, knowing that she was blushing, "they're..."

Before she could say what they were, Malfoy walked up to their table, a smug smile on his face.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly.

"I'd take you on any time on my own. Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only – no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling round. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

"Crabbe," he said, "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room, that's always unlocked."

They left, Mel was upset again.

"What is a wizard's duel? And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"It means you're both stupid," She said, "you just saved yourself from getting expelled and now you're accepting a duel?"

"A second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, ignoring Mel's comment, "but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"What if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.

"I'll go with you."

"Mel, you can't-"

"I wasn't asking"

"Excuse me," Hermione talked to them for the first time in the whole hour.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron, Mel lightly pinched his arm.

Hermione continued.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –"

"Bet you could..."

"–and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Goodbye," said Ron.

"Don't be rude!" She complained as the three of them got up from the table, "She's trying to help our house win the cup. I should follow her steps from time to time..."

"Well, you should start by controlling your own temper," Ron offered under his breath.

She had a hard time trying to make Hermione leave her alone. She spent the afternoon hearing her ramble about how Dumbledore would be disappointed if she got caught doing such atrocities. In the end, it was useless to try and convince her to go to bed, even if she was already wearing her dressing gown. She angrily followed her downstairs and dramatically waited for the boys in one of the sofas while Mel waited as far as she could from her, standing next to a chair.

"You're ready?" Ron whispered, "Remember, you can't help Harry, so I hope you're not bringing your wand."

"I'm not," She replied upset, "she wouldn't let me"

"Who?" Asked Harry.

"I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."

A lamp flickered on.

"You!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped. "Percy – he's a Prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Both of them turned to look at Mel, expecting her to control the situation.

"I tried to send her away," She sighed, "Hermione wouldn't stop insisting, so I let her stay here until we had to leave."

"Come on," Harry pushed both of his friends towards the door.

However, Hermione decided she wanted to keep arguing.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"I'll help you get them back tomorrow 'Mione, I promise," Mel whispered, urging her to go back.

"Go away."

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so –"

Mel noticed grimly, that the Fat Lady was gone. She came into a halt, watching with worry.

"Now what am I going to do?" Hermione asked.

"That's your problem," said Ron, going back only to grab Mel's arm and drag her along, "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

"I'm coming with you," she said, rushing over to them once they were reaching the end of the corridor.

"You are not."

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all four of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up."

"Hermione, what we're doing is wrong, but that's just an awful idea," Mel retorted.

"You've got some nerve –'

"Shut up!" said Harry. "I heard something."

That something was Neville, he forgot the password and now he was sleeping outside. He wanted to join them because he was, as usual, afraid. Ron was angry.

In spite of the complications, they hoped for the duel to end well.

In the trophy room, they waited and waited. Minutes passed by and there was no sight of Malfoy and Crabbe.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

"Or maybe he wasn't coming at all," Mel offered.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

A hand closed tightly around her wrist and pulled her back. It was Harry, and he was silently urging them to run to the opposite side. She moved, guiding her friends away from Filch's voice.

"They're in here somewhere..."

She walked as fast as she could while also being quiet. Unfortunately, Neville panicked and ran into Ron, the two boys crashing against a whole line of armors.

"RUN!" Harry yelled.

It wasn't the first time Mel and Harry had to run away from something, but it was certainly the fastest. Until their legs were hurting and their lungs weren't properly working anymore, that's when they decided to stop.

"This... is the last time... you believe anyt... anything that rat... says!" Mel concluded, breathless.

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realise that, don't you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

"We have to go back to the Gryffindor Common room," Ron said.

"Let's go," Harry walked forward.

The door in front of them opened with a bang and Peeves came out of it swiftly, delighted to see students out of bed.

"Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please..."

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves, then his eyes shone wickedly when they landed on Mel, "It's for your own good, you know. You, the dumb-dumby, you're in big big trouble."

"Get out of the way," Snapped Ron, pushing Peeves away.

Mel felt her blood run cold.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

They ran, crashing against the nearest door, which was -as their terrible luck would have it- locked.

"This is it!" Ron exclaimed, in a nervous fit, "We're done for! This is the end!"

Mel looked around and locked eyes with Hermione.

"Just this once?" Mel begged her.

Hermione rolled her eyes but stepped forward.

"Move over," Hermione hissed as Mel grabbed Ron by the collar of his dressing-gown and pulled him away from the door.

Hermione grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock and whispered:

"Alohomora!"

Mel pushed everyone inside and then got in herself, closing the door behind her and turning around.

She was living a nightmare.

In front of her, there was a three-headed dog, black and enormous.

"What the..."

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered, he obviously hadn't turned around, "I think we'll be OK – get off, Neville! What?"

It was the third floor, they were inside the forbidden corridor.

"Out," Mel whispered with a broken voice.

She felt Harry turning around and opening the door, they went back outside in a rush and fell on top of each other as Harry quickly closed the door behind them. He helped her stand up so they could go back to running. And so they ran, they didn't even care about Filch, they just wanted to leave that dog as far away as possible.

Almost as a miracle, they reached the seventh floor and the portrait without any complications.

"Where on earth have you all been?" The Fat lady gasped.

"Never mind that – pig snout, pig snout," Harry urged her.

They rushed into the common room, falling heavily onto the armchairs. They were so big, that Mel and Harry even managed to fit into one.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school? If any dog needs exercise, that one does." Ron complained.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" Hermione snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"It was standing on a trapdoor," Mel recalled easily, but she shrugged it off, "I don't see how that's important?"

"It's obviously guarding something," Hermione stood up, glaring at them, "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled. Don't expect me to help you again with any of your stupid expeditions in the middle of the night, Mel. Actually, don't even try to start a conversation with me for the rest of the term. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

"No, we don't mind," Ron grumbled, "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"

"Merlin's beard," Mel leaned against her chair.

Hermione could be bossy sometimes, she could be too much for other people, but Mel genuinely liked her and now she was gone, she didn't want to be friends with her anymore.

"Mel?" Harry nudged her arm softly, "Is everything alright?"

"I'm going to bed," She answered, not even daring to look at his eyes.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@vampiregirl1797 @tiphareth2018 @siriuslysirius1107  

[harryandmolly]

Change of Pace - 16

cowritten by @achinglyshawn

summary: Shawn and Maya meet again 10 years after life got in the way of love

warnings: language, angst, mention of drug use

wc: 4.7k

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

July 2007

The stage lights are bright white. He sweats beneath the glare, but he can’t tell if it’s from the heat or the coke he did with Geoff in the bathroom. He’s similarly unsure of the origin of his trembling fingers and rapidly-thumping heart. Is it the audience before him responsible for the adrenaline rush, or is it the drug running through his veins?

Either way, he’s keyed up enough to match the energy of the 2am crowd, who are probably just as coked out as he is, if not more so. They look ready to dance, ready to jump on stage and scream in his face while he tears it up on his electric guitar. 

He doesn’t want to give them that. He wants to break their hearts instead. 

As he approaches the mic, the roaring crowd quiets to a dull murmur as they anticipate which rock jam he’ll bless them with tonight. 

He doesn’t. 

“This is a song about a broken fucking heart.” 

+

September 2007

Maya thinks it’s pretty impressive, actually, that she made it all the way to her apartment today before she started crying. 

It’s her second week of her internship at a Manhattan wealth management firm. She lives alone in a 5th floor walk-up studio in Chinatown above a dim sum place where the waitresses are mean. Someone sniffed her and moaned on the subway on the way to work. Someone dropped a burrito in her lap on the way back.

She deadbolts the door and feels her chin wobble as she looks around the miniscule apartment. Before she can stop it, before she can control her fragile, exhausted mind, she falls into it.

It’s a daydream that’s haunted her since she left him in their apartment in the spring. It’s dark and fuzzy in her head, like a worn out photograph she should probably leave alone and stop dragging out to study. 

It’s them, in LA. It’s a Sunday afternoon and she and Shawn are broke and happy, driving to the beach from their shitty one bedroom in the Valley. They have sandwiches from home in a cooler with some discount off-brand soda. Her surfboard is strapped to the roof. His guitar is in the backseat. He’s driving, holding her hand like he likes to. She watches the wind ruffle his curls as he sings along to the radio. It’s simple, it’s a vision a million women have had about the men they love, but she cherishes it. And detests it.

She flips on her light. It hisses, sputters, and goes out.

Maya closes her eyes, and the tears start.

+

The Present

Shawn registers the woman in his arms before he realizes he’s awake. He groans, pulls her close, snuffling into her hair as he slowly becomes aware of the world around him. The sun warms the sheets of the bed, creating a cocoon of comfort around them. 

Shawn groans, nosing down from her the back of her head to the crook of her neck. He gains enough early morning clarity to press his lips to her throat, mouthing lazily at her as he wakes up. 

“Lemon,” he  murmurs, humming into her skin. “Time to wake up, baby.” 

He slides his hand down her side, pressing his palm into the soft curve of her hip to coax her from sleep. 

Maya is half on her side, half on her stomach, face pressed into her expensive pillow. Shawn is needy first thing in the morning. She doesn’t mind. She knows very well this might be the last real show of affection she gets from him. She’s not going to let that stop her, though. It’s time to tell the truth. It’s long past time. 

He’s all over her, grumbling in his rocky morning voice as he wakes her gently, all warm hands and soft lips. She shivers despite his seeping body heat.

Slowly, she turns over in his grasp and smiles sleepily. She lifts a finger and pokes the dimple in his chin.

“Who made you the wake up police?”

She’s so sweet in the morning, warm and groggy and sleep-heavy. Shawn grins down at her when she pokes his chin, grabbing her finger and bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss.  

“It’s you who’s normally the wake up police. I just figured it was my turn.” 

He nips the tip of her finger, still smiling as he tenderly presses his thumb to the palm of her  hand. He starts massages her as he settles back into the pillow and blinks up at the ceiling. 

“Still wanna check out the art store, sugar?”

Maya watches Shawn massage the palm of her hand, her drawing hand, the one that’s always cramping up on her when she’s in an artistic mood. She swallows and lifts her other hand to his cheek, focusing his eyes on her. She tips her head sadly.

“I think we should talk first. I… I have something to tell you. Something I should’ve told you when I first saw you at the farmer’s market.”

Shawn’s stomach drops. He hates the look on her face. He’s only seen that look once. Before she left. It’s not a good news look. 

Shawn sucks in a breath, jaw clenching for a moment as his heart goes a little wild in his chest. His voice is caught in his throat. He can’t really imagine what she could have to tell him. What she could be hiding. A boyfriend? Husband? A whole family? None of those make sense. 

She mashes her lips together and runs her thumb along his sharp cheekbone focusing on how she feels right now, wrapped up in him, feeling his breath on her cheeks.

His eyes flutter shut, chest heaving with a deep, steadying breath. He still can’t find his voice, so Maya continues without him. 

She closes her eyes. “I’m not going back to New York.”

“You— what?” Shawn blinks. There’s a moment of relief— no family or husband or secret kid she never told him about. But then— “Like, ever?”

Maya feels the closeness between them get snapped away by the clench of his jaw. She stays steady, tells herself she prepared for this. 

He’s going to get upset, of course he is. You’ve been lying to him. But you’ll get through this.

She leaves her hand where it is against his cheek but it feels heavy. She takes a breath to convince herself she’s not pushing him away.

“I… I quit my job in May. I sold my apartment. I packed up and moved here. I’m not leaving Avila.”

Shawn is… Confused. Why? Why lie about something like that? And to him? His stomach drops and he doesn’t find her thumb on his cheek reassuring enough to manage to pick it back up. 

He swallows, looking down between them for a moment, because she’s too pretty. She’s too— everything. 

He gut twists. He hates this feeling.

She’s never lied to him before. 

“Why— ah—“ His voice is thick. He clears his throat with a shake of his head and a humorless chuckle. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looks at her again, brows furrowed, and he tries not to choke on his own breath as he waits.

Maya just has to keep breathing. She feels her skin prickle. She decides to take her hand off his cheek before he decides to do it for her because she’s sure if he does her heart will splinter in her chest.

Her pulse races under her hot skin. She shifts uncomfortably next to him and gets ready to lay herself bare.

“I don’t know. I… I didn’t mean to lie to you. God, that sounds like such bullshit since I’ve been doing it all summer. I don’t know what happened. I was caught off-guard, I wasn’t ready to see you. I dunno, I just…”

She trails off and rolls onto her back, skimming a finger through her hair. “I couldn’t say the words. I’m sorry. The longer I waited, the harder it got to tell you. I’m so sorry.”

It’s not a real answer. It explains why she didn’t tell him right away, maybe. But then— then it just kept happening. So many times did he mention the fall, how they’d have to make the best of the time they had. 

And she didn’t— why didn’t she want him to know?

He rolls onto his back and blinks up at the ceiling, jaw set. 

“You—“ he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing shaky. “That’s bullshit, Maya.” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slightly. 

“There’s— it’s not just cause you couldn’t.” 

She doesn’t trust him. She doesn’t want to be with him. She can’t be with him. 

There’s always another reason.

When he falls onto his back, she pops back up on her forearm on her side to look down at him. She’s close, but not touching. Her legs are stretched out right next to his. She can almost feel the tension rolling off him. She ducks her head and wills away the tears. 

This was coming, she tells herself, from the day she opened her mouth at the farmers market and every day since. They have to do this to get to the other side of it. It’s going to be ok.

Through her self soothing, she nods gamely. “I know. It’s… it’s on me. It wasn’t about you, baby. It’s my own shit.”

“Yeah, but that’s—- what shit? I don’t get—“ He can’t even get a full sentence out. The words stick in his throat. He shakes his head, hand falling from his nose. 

I don’t get why you couldn’t just tell me. Don’t you trust me? 

Then, 

She’s not in love with you anymore. 

He doesn’t want to think that. 

She never said it, but the way she looked at him— it was like before. 

Before.

He’s always so hung up on before. 

That’s his problem, and he knows it. Nothing’s like before. No matter how many times he reminds himself, he always trips his way back into the nostalgia of before. 

He should know not to be so naive. 

He pushes himself up onto the hand, jaw clenched to stop himself from crying like a fucking baby.

“You— is this like, a joke to you?” 

Maya blanches. Something has shifted. He’s not just disappointed. He’s not going to be cold for a few hours or a few days while he processes. This isn’t going to go that way.

She was a fool to hope for it, she knows. She’s always stupid about him. It makes her feel childish.

Maya clings to her dignity. She blinks and clears her throat. She wets her lips. Anything to stall.

“No. It’s… no, of course not. I’m sorry. I was being immature and stupid. You deserve better from me. And you’re not a joke to me, this isn’t a joke. I want this, Shawn. That’s why I’m telling you now so we have a shot at keeping this together.”

She doesn’t think she’s allowed to touch him right now but god, she wants to.

He doesn’t want to hear it. For the first time in his life, he doesn’t want to hear anything Maya Lu has to say. He feels too… betrayed. 

Betrayed by her and by himself. He’s an idiot, and he should’ve known sooner. 

He didn’t think she had it in her to lie to him. He realizes he doesn’t know her like he thought he did. 

“I just don’t get it,” he finally croaks, a harsh edge to his voice that he tries to control but can’t quite manage. 

He shakes his head, pushing himself all the up and swinging his legs out of bed. 

He gets up, crosses away from her to shuffle through the drawer she emptied for some of his clothes. He needs to get to the studio. 

Maya feels a spark of panic like a jolt through her warm, sleepy limbs. He climbs out of bed and leaves her there to tug the sheet up over her chest. She wills herself to stay calm.

“Shawn, wait, don’t… I mean, baby, please, just… let’s get back in bed and just talk this through, ok?”

It’s so hard to resist when Maya tries to coax him back to her. His heart lurches, because she sounds so fucking scared. 

Good, the mean, angry part of him thinks, because he was scared like this once, too. 

When she sees that idea isn’t going to get her any traction, she adjusts course. She stands up and pulls on a satiny robe hanging on the rocking chair by her bed. She slides into it and crosses her arms over her chest with a weak smile.

“Ok, let’s just go downstairs and have some coffee, then?”

The tortured, desperately in love part of him is heart broken, devastated at the sound of her voice and the shaky way she pulls on the robe she bought because he thought the color went with her freckled skin. 

Shawn almost crumbles. She knows how to make the perfect cup of coffee.

He has to leave. 

“I—“ he tugs a shirt over his head, turning away from her and towards the door as he tucks it into his jeans. “—gotta get to the shop.” 

He avoids her gaze as he turns back to the night stand to grab his keys and wallet. 

The more clothes he puts on the further away he feels, the more screwed she knows they are. She breathes heavily, raking a hand through her hair desperately. She’s shaking like a leaf. 

Maya swears she’s going to be sick on her feet. 

“Shawn, honey, you can’t just leave. Please!” 

She feels like a child in a strop like if she throws herself on the ground and kicks her legs she’ll get him to stay. 

Panic rises with the tears. She chokes on a breath. “C’mon, stay. Stay and cry. Or yell! Yell at me. I’ll yell with you if you don’t want to yell alone. Stay here with me, we can do this, I know we can do this. Please baby, please don’t leave me now.”

She can’t hear herself. She’s spilling words and feelings as fast as she can say them. But she doesn’t know what else to say. What will make him stay and fight?

The more she talks the madder he gets, and he hates himself for that. How fucked up is he? She’s begging him to stay and it just— it makes him want to leave more. 

He has to go; he needs to deal with the lie she spent the entire summer indulging. He needs to be able to not look at her without feeling sick. 

He needs to be alone. 

“Don’t, Maya,” he hisses as he stops at the door, turning to look at her. “Just let me be mad at you.” 

Shawn looks taller than he ever has as he whirls around at Maya. She’s never seen him look like this before. She’s never seen this kind of fire behind his eyes. 

It’s terrifying.

Maya knows Shawn would sooner die than physically hurt her. She’s not scared of that. She’s scared that this is it, that she can’t find the words to get him to stay, that she won’t be enough for him to come back for.

She covers her nose and mouth with her hands and releases a sob. After a moment, she sniffles and releases her hands from her face.

“Shawn… I don’t want you to go. But if you have to go, please come back. I took too long to come back. Please don’t wait that long.”

He hangs his head, his grip around the door knob tightening, knuckles blanching. 

He hates the sound of her voice, the tears that linger in her eyes as she pleads with him. The air feels heavier around him, each appeal she gives making it harder to wade away from her. 

“I can’t— I won’t make you a promise I’m not sure I can keep,” he mumbles, his heart dropping into his gut as he finally manages to wrench the door open and disappear from sight. 

He forces himself not to turn back once he’s out of her house and stalking down the sidewalk. It doesn’t matter if she follows him. He shouldn’t want her to follow him.

She lied to him. Now he gets to run away and pout over it. 

He hates the sinking feeling that everything from this summer was a lie, but it haunts him the entire way to the shop. 

He just… leaves. 

He mutters to her something that snaps her thread of hope and leaves her. He walks away. He might not even come back. 

She’s trying to wrap her head around it. She studied this as one of the possible outcomes of her confession. But she gave him more credit. She knows how smart he is and how mature he is. She thought he’d stay and talk it through with her, maybe help her understand why she lied. 

Not that that’s his job, exactly. That’s on her. But… he’s gone. She can’t believe he left. 

She props herself on the end of her bed feeling dizzy. She swallows. It hurts. She looks around the room, sees pieces of his expensive suit strewn about, sees her dress and shoes and panties. Her sheets smell like sex. 

She decides it can all wait and drops into the bed, hauling herself under the covers and closing her eyes. 

At first, Shawn doesn’t do much when he gets to the shop. 

He sits at the freshly lacquered piano, the gloss finally dry. He presses his hands to the lid still covering the keys, spreading his fingers. He breathes through his nose. 

It’s shaky, at best. 

The rational part of himself, the grown up he thought he was, knows he shouldn’t be hiding. He shouldn’t go down this rabbit hole of crazed doubt. 

But he also feels clearer than he has all summer. 

He’s so in love with her. He’s addicted to it. And he wanted so badly for their rekindled romance to be perfect. 

He refused to see the signs. Maya’s never been able to lie to him before. 

He thinks the only reason he didn’t see she was lying about something was that he didn’t want to see it. He wanted everything to be like before. 

But it’s not before. He was stupid to pretend. To let himself believe it. 

He pushes the lid of the piano open. Cracks his knuckles. He hasn’t had a chance to tune it since before painting it, but the scale he plays doesn’t sound too bad. 

Shawn plays any sad song that comes to mind for the next half hour. He gets bored after that, and tired. Tired of wallowing. 

He stands, looks around his shop from unfinished project to unfinished project. There’s a banjo that needs strings and a guitar that needs sanding. There’s also the harp, but it reminds him too much of Maya. She loves that harp. 

He picks up the guitar and a palm sized square of sandpaper, then gets to work. 

Maya falls mercifully asleep. It’s deep, dreamless sleep, like her body knew better than to let her be alone with her own mind right now. It’s like NyQuil knock out sleep.

She wakes up disoriented at golden hour, tangled in her robe and bedsheets. Even though she slept soundly, she seemed to have thrashed around a lot. When she woke up with Shawn this morning, the sheets were tucked in around them almost exactly the way they were when they went to bed the night before. It was usually like that with them.

She checks her phone and sees only a text from her mom about her cousin’s wedding that she doesn’t have the energy to respond to. Nothing else.

She blinks and rolls over, propping up on her arm to look out the window to the driveway. His Jeep is gone. She sits up and stumbles out of bed, ignoring the way her heart pounds with a few last beats of hope as she walks to the other side of the room to check the bay windows facing the beach. She peeks down at the deck, crossing her fingers behind her back. There’s no sign of him.

He left. He stayed gone.

She closes her eyes and breathes but her chin wobbles through more tears. She straightens her robe, retying it around her waist and sets about tidying up her room. They hit it like a drunken hurricane last night. As tears dribble down her cheeks, she ignores them, willful and focused. The sooner she addresses her room and the growling of her stomach, the sooner she can let herself into her studio to paint.

His suit sits in a pile on her rocking chair for the dry cleaners. She makes her bed, unwilling to wash the sheets that smell like him. She jams some avocado toast in her mouth even through her nausea.

The screened in studio around the back of the house is unbearably hot in the middle of the day but now, as the sun sets over the ocean, it’s the only place she wants to be. The first hint of night breeze sifts through the screen. The room smells like sawdust and acrylic paint. She breathes it in greedily like an addict.

Loosely wrapped in her robe, greasy hair swinging around her face, she props a canvas up into her easel and spurts paint onto her palette, letting her fingers pick colors instead of her mind. She swipes at the canvas with abandon and lets herself hurt all over her work. It’s raw and soft and wet, somehow, like three dimensional raindrops trapped on a two dimensional medium. It contrasts sharply with the kind of work she was doing after they first had sex weeks ago, when her skin was still Manhattan pale and her arms were constantly sore from throwing herself into surfing. 

Her brush doesn’t leave the canvas for more than a second to swipe up more color. It runs out of her like blood. If she gets it all out, maybe it won’t hurt anymore.

She’s not delusional enough to think that’s true. This one’s going to hurt for a while. It’s going to hurt until she can find the words to tell him, to explain to him and herself once and for all why she has been so goddamn scared.

Every stroke feels like it uncovers her a little more, lays her bare to her own seeking mind. The words are there. She’s getting closer.

Shawn doesn’t leave the studio for a full 48 hours. He keeps spare work clothes and toiletries in his office, so he doesn’t even have to go home for that. He sleeps on his couch, goes to Starbucks for breakfast, then gets postmates for all of his other meals. 

It’s probably not healthy. 

He can’t be bothered to care. 

He gets more work done than he usually does in two days. He just can’t bare to stop. It’s easier to string guitars and tune his piano than it is to think. To admit that maybe the relationship he and Maya had was one confined to the fantasy world in his head. 

Why else would she lie, and for all summer, if not because she never considered their summer fling anything more than that. A fling. Something to get her mind off of the job she quit until she was ready to move on for real. 

He’s like, the safe option. He’s familiar. He’s the kind of familiarity that could ease her pain while she changed her life with no real plans for the future. He was something to cling to while her whole world flipped. 

A consolation prize.

He supposes he wouldn’t have minded being that for her, if only he’d known. 

He picks up a special can of gloss from the Home Depot, something more decadent, suited  for the careful curls he spent hours etching into the body of his harp. 

He finds a paintbrush Maya once left in his dorm room, one that he’s always kept in a special drawer in his desk, and sits on the floor in front of the harp. He tries not to think too hard about it. About her. 

He focuses on the work.

Maya wakes up in the robe again.

She barely made it upstairs to her room to collapse in her bed before sleep took hold again. She wakes up with her face in his pillow. She thinks maybe she was dreaming about him but she can’t remember. She closes her eyes again and tries to throw herself into the memory. She doesn’t come up with it, but she has others.

She remembers the way he whispered in her ear teasingly ordering her burger the night they met. She remembers the way he would stroke her hair until she fell asleep the night before a big test. She remembers how he felt the first time they ever made love.

She remembers their last night in Avila that summer, a million and a half years ago, when they were children. She thinks about the simplicity of it, how well they thought they knew each other and their futures. 

She’s thinking about it as she gets in the shower because she’s officially super gross even though she hasn’t wanted to wash the scent of his lingering cologne off of her. By the time she’s rinsing the conditioner out of her hair, she’s panting for a paintbrush.

She finishes her shower quickly. She rolls her eyes at the suds she towels off her legs because she’s too worked up to rinse off properly. She has to get to a canvas before her head explodes.

As soon as she enters her studio, hot and bright with the morning sun, her frantic energy calms. This time, instead of ripping through paint and shredding her heart to memorialize on canvas, she sits calmly on the stool she set in front of her easel and spends almost an hour selecting oil paints on her palette.

She sits back and stares at the canvas for a while the way she hasn’t been able to do lately. She’s been too keyed up, all fire and no thought when she sits down to make her art. She hasn’t really painted calmly like this since… before Manhattan. 

When she does put brush to canvas, it’s slow, controlled, thoughtful. She paints with love, not fear. She spends all day on it, taking only short breaks to eat and stretch her hands. By the time she has to turn on her studio lights because all her daylight is gone, she has the roughness of it done, the primary shapes and feeling coming through, but for the level of realism detail she wants it’ll take some serious fine-tuning and her eyes and hands hurt.

It’s the view as she remembers it on the deck of their Avila rental. That last night on the deck with him watching the sunset, tangled up on the daybed. The perspective of the view lines up with her eye level so the sunset stretches out above their entwined legs. It’s so warm she can almost feel him holding her.

She doesn’t paint it because she wants to be back there. She paints it like it’s proof that it’s not who they are anymore. It’s who they tried to be all summer, but they were just kids. They’re them now, fully formed, practically strangers. She hopes it will serve as a reminder to her that they’ve come so far and so much has changed. They can’t fit their old mold, they’ve outgrown it.

The canvas is big, but in that view, their world is so small. As Maya steps away from it, she sees that. And when she falls asleep that night, fingers twitching to return to her canvas to detail the curves of her legs and the patches of bougainvillea that wrapped around the columns, she’s sure she wants him to see this, to understand it with her.

She might have to wait for him to decide he wants to see it, too.

----------

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint @randi-eve @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire @itrocksmysocks @parkerspicedlatte @simpledomain @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @thecurlsofgod @magcon7280 @bensbuttercup @shawnsmusical @paigeasourous @tell-me-when-ur-ready @softmendesss @searchingunderthestars @buggy-blogs @mendesficsxbombay @siennarossi @lostinshawnsmemory​ @umbreakablesoul @desire-to-live​ @jillian-nd​ @shawnwyr​ @curlsofshawn @graysonmendes​ @tnhmblive​ @meltingicequeen​

[dawnwriterimagines]

Slashers reaction to your death would include....Part 2

Thomas Hewitt:

It was such a beautiful day. There was never a gloomy day, no matter how rainy or disastrous it really was, there was never a bad day with you in his life.

When he woke up to you laying next to him, snoring quietly as you cuddled into him, he couldn't help but pull you closer and press his lips to your own. Effectively waking you up from your slumber.

Pulling away, he gave a quiet, murmur, his form of an apology, two which you accepted and kissed him back sleepily. You wore and lazy smile, your eye's half open, but you've never looked more perfect.

You both started the day, it was easy and for the first time in months, you could actually spend the morning with eachother. Charlie had, unfortunately, came home empty handed, annoyed with the absence of tourists in the area. But, luckily, there was a weeks worth of fresh meat in the freezer in the basement, so you'd all be fine for a while.

Thomas, for the first time, really had nothing to do, so he wasted no time in finding you hanging up the laundry in the front yard. He chuckled briefly against the crane of your neck when you jumped slightly, before you leaned into his embrace from behind. "Well hello there Tommy," you giggled, placing your hand against his arm's encircled around your waist.

You let the white sheet in your hand drop back down into the laundry basket, turning in his arms and closing your eye's as he pecked your lips, once, twice. You smiled widely before leaning in to give him one of your own, taking him by the back of the neck and kissing him deeply. His hands roamed downwards, squeezed and pinched you making you squeal in delight.

After you finished the laundry with his help, you and Thomas headed into the house, laughing to yourselves. However, it wasn't until you saw Charlies face, the phone in his hand as he listened intently, that you knew that your soothing day was over.

Luda Mae had called from the gas station, talking about a few tourists that were heading this way. They didn't go to the station, actually they had driven faster away from it, Luda assumed it was the bikers.

Charlie stomped out the house, grabbing his shotgun on the way, calling for Thomas to go with him. "Let's go boy!"

Thomas immediately notice your frown and whined softly, before stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, and pressing his forehead against yours. "I love you," you told him, smiling to reassure him that you were fine.

Thomas signed to you, his expression filled with love as his hands moved: I love you.

With that, they left, you stood by the door, waving as Thomas stared at you, longingly from the window of the police patrol car. You watched until they drove into the distance, unable to see them as they drove over the small hill and towards the highway.

You waited for a few hours, sitting down with Monty as he watched his shows and you read your favorite book by his side. Within the next hour, he was out like a light, falling and sleep in the middle of a repeated episode. You stood from the couch chuckling softly as you grabbed a blanket and laid it over the disabled old man.

You went upstairs to your bedroom, sitting on the bed as you waited for Thomas to come home. You were just about to take off your dress when you heard the sound of your door opening.

You spun around and before you could open your mouth to scream the man in front of you had an arm around your neck and his large hand covering your mouth. He circled behind you to hold you tight and lift you by the neck off the bed. Your screamed through his palm but he okay clamped down on your mouth harder, shutting off your nose as well. You kicked and squirmed in his grip and you couldn't hear him tell you to be quiet as he tried to find a place to get out of the house without using the front door, where the patrol car was pulling up.

The man held your arm's to your sides with one hand, while slowly suffocating you with the other. He pressed himself to the wall, hoping no one would come in this particular room so he could successfully escape. He hissed as your nails bit into his skin and drew blood but he knew that he couldn't let go, he just needed you to be quiet only a few seconds so those killers could pass by.

He relaxed when you went limp in his arms, a small whimper escaping the girls lips before he realized just how harsh his grip had been. He quickly let go and laid you down on the ground, horrified seeing your eye's closed and a thin trail of blood running down your nose. "Oh my god," he whispered to himself, horrified at what he had done, just before the door had opened to the room. There in the entrance stood, Thomas, the killer of his friends only a few minutes prior to this moment.

The man scrambled away from his sight, pleading with the Lord that he hadn't been seen in the darkness of the room. But, he knew for sure that the girl, if not dead now, would be cut up into a meat dish for sure. He was sorry but he had no choice but to hide.

He watched from a dark corner as the monster of a man noticed the dark figure on the ground just in front of him as the light in the hallway rained into the room. Thomas moaned, as if calling for someone, trying to say something, he was calling for you.

He walked forwards, leaning down in curiosity as he flicked on the light at the bedside, his eyes widening as he found your body laying in front of him. He collapsed to his knees, taking you in his arms and lifting you from the ground, breathing heavily in slight panic as he placed you on the bed and immediately tried to wake you up.

Rubbing the side of your face to coax you awake, his eyes finding the line of blood flowing down the side of your nose, he shook his head. Pressing his palms to your soft skin he tried to find a pulse, he waited, and he waited, shaking in horror and disbelief as your eye's remained closed. He began to whimper in angst, his voice rising with every moment he began to realize that you were gone. His eyes watered as he buried his head into your shoulder as he held you to him tightly, roaring in devestation, loud enough to shake the house.

The man hiding, shook in fear, understanding now that he had made a terrible mistake. Knowing full well that he would be found out the moment the footsteps stomping up the stairs were to find the room. The monster that had killed his friends, his girlfriend, also had someone of his own. Someone that definetly meant much more to him than he would've thought.

Thomas's cries were heard through the house and Luda and Charlie were the first to find him, wondering what the noise was about. "Tommy! You betta have a good explanation boy!" Charlie yelled, entering the room, before his angered expression faded completely and Luda Mae entered next.

Luda's pain filled scream of despair split through the air as she crumbled to her knees, covering her mouth as she found her son cradling your dead body.

Thomas kept his eye's on your face, his right hand stroking your face and wiping the blood from your cheek. Sobbing quietly as he held you to him, whimpering out your name as he struggled to come to the conclusion that you had really gone so quickly. Why did you have to go? Why did you deserve this? You, of all people, didn't deserve this.

"Where is he?" Charlie growled out, his shotgun in hand clicked, his eyes red with anger and mourning. "Where are ya?!"He called out into the house before he walked over to the side window, next to the corner where the man was hiding. "A bastard don'..." Charlie couldn't finish as Thomas roared angrily.

He spun around and found the man, who murdered you, running out of the room, bolting past him. Before he could even get out of the room, however, he let out a stunned shout of pain as a hand clutched his face painfully. Thomas stood from the bed, angrily huffing as he pulled the man to him by the head, squeezing his cheekbones to the point of splinters. The man felt his jaw dislocation and struggled fo scream as he let out his pathetic apologies. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't know! I didn't meant to kill her!" That only sealed what Thomas would do later, knowing that this was the man that had taken you from him. He would die a painful death.

After the boy passed out from the pain, Thomas drops him and falls to his knees, his anger wavering as he wraps his hands around your delicate one at the edge of the bed. Sobbing once again. Luda Mae hugs him from behind in support, crying herself as Charlie rests a hand on her shoulder and Thomas's.

Guilt settles into Thomas's heart, ever since you had passed, he's never forgiven himself for leaving you that day. If he hadn't, you'd still be here to love him and hold him, like he should've been doing for you.

The brutal killings of the Hewitt family have only grown in numbers, none having been able to escape since the day Thomas was forced to bury the body of his beautiful, loving wife, (y/n).

Bubba

Bubba kissed your cheek sweetly as he giggled at the way you tried to continue washing the dishes. Having finished dinner, you had vouched to clean the dishes, knowing full well that at least one of the boys would end up breaking a dish. Much to Bubba's dismay, who much rather prefer you to be enjoying the rest of your night with him.

But, he thought around it and poked at your sides, enjoying the way you squealed in surprise and leaned your body away at the sensation. Initially he had thought you didn't like it but after seeing your blushing face and smiling lips, he couldn't keep himself together. Poke. Poke.

"Bubba!" You laughed before squirming away from the sink, ducking under Bubba, who was behind you, water spilling from your damp fingers.

He had his fingers out, giggling madly as he teased you, walking slowly towards you. Promising the sweet torture that he loved so much now. He whined half heartedly, coaxing you to walk towards him because he missed your touch, but also to tickle your sides.

You out your finger out, laughing, "No, no, Bubba. No. I've gotta wash the dishes, come on. Don't tickle me!" You screamed gleefully as he charged at you and you nearly went flying over the kitchen table as you ran for your life. "Bubba!" You ran into the living room where Drayton watched as you bolted through to the other side of the room, Bubba following behind.

"Don't you break nothin'!" Drayton warned before shaking his head and sitting back onto the couch with a chuckle as he patted his full stomach.

Bubba was able to catch you by your waist as you made it to the stairs, and you both hit the wall as he couldn't stop himself. You both fell with an "oof!", luckily you had landed on top of him, and Nubbin's, who was scratching his hair irritatedly, sighed before shrugging. "When I wanna have a piece of you, I'm gross. But, when this kid wants some, he's got you in the bag." He frowned and you rolled your eye's and sat up, straddling Bubba, who's hands clutched your thighs. "I call next."

You shook your head, getting up and so did Bubba. Both of you laughing and panting. Bubba pecks your lips happily and you smile widely before pulling him down for another one.

You both jump, however, as there is a large thump that echoes throughout the house. A scream follows after the shocking sound of a woman hurling herself off the front steps and Chop top screaming after her as she runs off the porch and into the night.

"Bubba! A runner!" Drayton yells from the living room before he rushes out the house with Nubbins.

Bubba groan's before kissing you quickly and growling softly as if to tell you to stay here before running down to the basement to get his chainsaw.

You frown worriedly as you hear the screams of the girl as well as a boy you don't recognize. It's not too long before the revving of a chainsaw is heard and Bubba is already outside and the sounds of the horrified screaming and blood gushing forces you upstairs.

The noise fades slightly and you shake your head reminding yourself that you were okay with this. As long as you could be with Bubba, it was all okay.

The screams subsided and you breathed a small sigh of relief before glancing out of the window, seeing nubbins and drayton hauling a body between them while chop top prods and pokes it with a laugh. Bubba is on the other side of them, yanking out his blood soaked chainsaw from the belly of the boy, he reaches down and captures his ankle before dragging him towards the house. A slight skip in housing step ankles he walks faster than everyone else.

You smile slightly before turning to head back down stairs, "You just watched," an angered whisper came from behind you, you spun around with a gasp before you were cut off. Two hands were wrapped around your neck, cutting off your air, making you whimper. "You let those monsters kill my friends!" The boy screamed at you, digging his fingers into your neck painfully. He must have been the one who helped the other two escape, he was still in the house when they took off.

You gasped for air, "B-bubba...", clawing at his hands as he sneered in your face, his eyes wide crazily as he bored into your soul. He moved to the side, hearing the front door open, panicking he had forgotten that you both were in front of the stairs. His foot slipped on the wooden staircase and he let out a yelp as he went forwards, tumbling with a hard grip still on you. You both hit the stairs brutally, he had held you tight and took the brunt of the stairs unintentionally, before he broke his wrist between one of the bars, trying to grab one.

You screamed hitting the stairs, gasping painfully as your back hit the steps, a crack resonating through you before you rolled down next to the boy and your head collided with the corner of the banister.

Bubba heard the commotion outside, the harsh thus and thumps sounded just as he opened the door after nubbins and drayton carried the girl to the basement. Dropping the dead victim in his arms, he quickly ran into the house, the noise frightening him as he knew that you should be the only one in the house.

He threw open the door and stopped as he came across the scene, his eyes wide in shock. A boy, a biker from yesterday, he was desperately trying to crawl away from the stairs which were smeared with blood at the bottom steps. His wrist was shattered and his left leg was twisted in an odd direction, his jaw was gaping open at the sight of Bubba, either in horror or from being broken. But, then, Bubba saw you and his world turned to black, he immediately let out a cry of agony.

There you lay, on the ground, unmoving. Blood leaking from your forehead, and pooling around your head, soaking your hair red. Your body was limp and your eye's were open and lifeless, dull and void of life. Drayton, nubbins, and chop top all come running into the main room, skidding to a stop in surprise of what they find.

Bubba bursts into tears, collapsing to his knees and crawling to you as he loudly sobs. "No, no!" He seems to cry, his words mumbled and watery as he hiccups sadly. He gathers you into his arm's, his hands shaking as their coated in your fresh blood.

He shakes you desperately, begging you to wake up as drayton frown's deeply his eye's red and he forced a glare onto the person responsible. "You," he seethed, looking down at the boy, pathetically trying to escape. "You don' kill our favorite girl!" He hisses before he leans down and takes the boys head and forces his head into the floor.

Nubbins and Chop top lean down next to their brother in saddened disbelief, who's shaking like a leaf, his sobs loud and torturous as he rubs his face against yours, unable to believe that you had gone so quickly. He doesn't react as drayton slowly kills the killer, all he can do is keep staring into your open eyes hoping that you'd show him that you were still alive.

He only roars in agonizing mourning as you don't. Hugging you to him as he rocks you in his arms, saying I love you as much as he could, knowing you'd never be able to hear him say it again.

He kisses your forehead, laying his head on top of yours until the morning.

[darkpoisonouslove]

“Happiness Is More Real When You Share It”

Summary: Griffin hasn’t seen Faragonda in more than two weeks and now that she’s back from her honeymoon, it’s time for them to talk about it and share all the happiness she’s finally found. There seems to be a slight problem with letting go of the past still but everything is easier to deal with with the help of a friend. Part 8 of “Sparks of Life”. Not exactly safe for work.

This got so away from me both with the length and with the slight angst that crept in but I am glad with how it turned out (and was on the verge of tears once more). I hope you’ll enjoy it as well.

“So,” Griffin drawled out as she put the tea cup on the saucer and left all of it on the coffee table. It seemed somehow new even though she was used to having tea with Faragonda in the penthouse as it’d been her home for a long time now. Could be the new tea set Faragonda had bought for her. Or it could be the wedding band shining on her finger. Sadly, there was no way to truly tell. “What’s new with you and Hagen?” she asked, still having a hard time believing it’d been more than fifteen days since the last time she’d seen Faragonda at the bachelorette party. They had a lot of catching up to do even if they’d talked a few times during the honeymoon.

Valtor had taken off an astounding two weeks which he’d spent away from work and instead working on reminding her she was his wife now. She could’ve gotten confused and started thinking that was her name now with how often he’d said it, taking every opportunity to lean in and whisper into her ear how happy it made him to call her that. And she hadn’t found it in herself to complain, weak for hearing the mirth in his voice as he said the title he’d allowed her to claim.

“Anything new Hagen wanted to try that you hadn’t had the chance to tell me about?” she asked, letting a mischievous smirk take over her face as she fought to remain focused on the present and not get lost in the memories of Valtor following up her name with the words “my wife” every time he’d come. Which hadn’t been too rare an occurrence during the honeymoon, the two of them practically living in bed as if they’d never touched each other before. Not that she’d had any objections. It’d been hard to speak with the lack of air due to the reverence he was putting in the words and the feeling of both wedding bands on her skin as he’d touched every inch of her, adding on to the breathlessness brought on from his ministrations. She’d wanted to explore more of Greece’s culture but she could never say no to Valtor’s body on hers and their souls coming together as they’d both murmured their declarations of love.

Faragonda raised her eyebrows so high Griffin was afraid they were going to fall off her face. “Really?”

“What?” she asked, a chuckle escaping her and sneaking into the word, making it sound all nervous and confused. It was ridiculous as she knew very well what Faragonda was getting at and they’d talked about that before–as evidenced by her own question and the ease with which it had been asked and met–so there was no reason for her reaction.

“You’re starting with me after you just came back from your honeymoon?” Faragonda asked as she left her own cup on the table and turned to her, sitting sideways on the couch, her whole attention focused on Griffin. It made her burn, not really from shame as there was no need for that between the two of them since they knew each other so well and despite being a very private person, she didn’t have a problem with that openness, she really valued it, in fact. The feelings inside her were explosive, though, and were pushing to get out while also taking over the deepest parts of her being and it was a confusing duality that was hard to comprehend. Like she had to share but only because she would burst if she didn’t and she was still mindful of revealing her inner experiences even to Faragonda.

“What do you want to know?” Griffin asked, less as an attempt to escape the interrogation she knew was coming and more in search of direction since there was so much to talk about and she didn’t know where to start. Those two weeks had felt like an eternity and she’d been ecstatic to spend every moment of it in his arms.

“Everything,” Faragonda said, an answer she should’ve expected, though the loudness and excitement in the single word were definitely a surprise. Faragonda was usually calmer and more contained, even when she was under the rule of stronger and more intense emotions. So it definitely stuck out to see her like that. “Tell me about your wedding night. And don’t stop there,” she said and her movements could almost be described like bouncing from excitement by her usual standards. It warmed Griffin’s heart to see how happy her friend was for her. Not that she hadn’t known Faragonda–and the others too–was ecstatic about the wedding but it was so touching to see that happiness and know that it reflected her own. “Walk me through the whole thing,” Faragonda leaned forward, her eyes on Griffin as she prepared to listen carefully to every detail.

“Okay,” Griffin said, chuckling again and this one was closer to joy even if it still had some nervousness left in it. She just didn’t know if she’d find the words to describe it. “It was very... romantic,” she said, struck not by how unusual that was for Valtor but by the exact opposite. He was actually a very soft and sensual lover and partner and she was stunned she hadn’t realized that sooner–at least not on a conscious level–as they’d been together for years. “He carried me through the door of the presidential suite–and in here when we got home too–and there were petals everywhere. Not from roses, though, but from plumerias. Those violet ones. And it all looked so soft on the background of the champagne sheets,” Griffin said, the image clear in her head as she suspected it would be for the rest of her life with how special everything had been. “Speaking of which, we did toast to being a family but the champagne was wasted since Valtor was too eager to focus on me.” Griffin felt a smile pulling at her lips at the memories. It had been supposed to be a simple kiss at the end of the toast but instead she hadn’t even realized when her glass hadn’t been in her hand anymore or when her dress had left her body and she’d been pinned under Valtor. Not that she’d complained. “He took his time and didn’t really let me do much besides making noise for him.” She paused, looking to fill her lungs with air again, much like she’d struggled to do back then as he’d left her completely breathless.

“Breathe, Griffie,” Faragonda said, the smirk tugging at her lips before she’d even finished her sentence, making Griffin shoot her a dirty glare that had just enough playfulness attached to it not to be taken seriously.

“Now you’re talking,” Griffin snipped at her, playing offended. “But you were all breathless and flushed that time you were telling me how you and Hagen almost broke the bed,” she said, smugness washing over her as Faragonda instantly flushed again at the mention or, more likely, at the memory. “Or that time you told me you made a sex tape.” Griffin grinned as Faragonda cut her gaze from hers, the slight movement of her thighs as she pressed them together making it clear what was running through her mind.

“Don’t start with me, Griffin,” Faragonda recovered quickly–much more so than Griffin could when it came to what had gone down on her honeymoon–and her eyes were locked with Griffin’s once more. “You have a lot more talking to do,” she said, her gaze imploring her to get back to her own memories while remaining just as gentle as Griffin knew it to always be.

“Okay,” Griffin relented, going back to where she’d left off. “Valtor used every opportunity to call me his wife,” she said, the smile finding its way back to her face as she felt a calmer and steadier warmth spread through her at the memories of how hearing him say it had made her feel weightless and... happy. She’d been floating from the intensity of the happiness spreading through her at the sound. Although it had been frustrating as he’d stopped several times while he’d been eating her out, leaving her hanging on the edge, to test how the word sounded next to her desperate whines.

“Why am I not surprised?” Faragonda chuckled but it didn’t take long for only a genuine smile to be left on her face and the emotion in it was reflected in her eyes too, as she looked straight into Griffin’s soul as if to place there the reassurance that her joy was shared. Not only by her husband, but by her friend too. And she was no longer lonely, with only her mom to join her when she had something to celebrate.

“I think he’s still trying to get used to the idea as much as he is doing it out of excitement,” Griffin said, her own voice small at the thought. Mainly because she understood since she was having a hard time believing it too. “Which might be why it took him so long to get me to orgasm,” she said, forcing the words out to shift back to the light mood that she shouldn’t have chased away before the concern in Faragonda’s gaze had time to jump out and flood the space around them. She didn’t want to stain the happiness of the present with the pain of the past. She’d lived in that long enough and she really wanted to move on from it now. There was no need to be stuck in it any longer. “We were at it until dawn and then slept well into the afternoon,” she continued, the sight that Valtor had made as he’d slept softly next to her in the daylight–she’d woken well before him but she’d settled for letting him sleep and doing her best to seal the image in her brain since she wasn’t certain when they’d have the opportunity to be in bed at that time of day again–taking over her and pushing away anything that didn’t match the feeling of awe and love it carried.

“I don’t think anyone can blame you,” Faragonda said, her voice quiet as if not to disturb the inner atmosphere Griffin had set for herself but also reassuring as if to help her shake off any feelings of duty and responsibility that might have transferred on to her from Valtor and she was grateful. She was pretty sure there hadn’t been much guilt on his part when it came to their honeymoon and she’d caught him in the beginning of his episodes when there’d been such so she felt secure that they’d handled that issue but it was still good to get the confirmation that they were allowed to be happy, and the encouragement too.

“We called room service since Valtor didn’t want to go out just yet and “share me with the world”,” Griffin said shaking her head as if she didn’t still get flutters from the declaration and her face muscles hadn’t started to hurt from sporting a grin for so long after he’d said it.

“Let me guess. You didn’t like the food,” Faragonda interrupted her inner musings, bringing her back to the conversation.

“Am I supposed to bite my tongue just because they’re not trying hard enough?” Griffin huffed as she looked away since her genuine outrage and Faragonda’s amusement did not mix well. “I’ll have you know that Valtor agreed with me,” she said as she turned back to Faragonda since she still had a point to prove.

“Does Valtor ever disagree with you?” Faragonda asked, an echo of her bubbling laughter in her voice that she was doing her best to hold back.

“Why would he disagree when I’m right?” Griffin asked, taking her cup of tea again both to show Faragonda she was over her attempts at teasing and because there would be no point in drinking it if she waited for them to finish that conversation since there was a lot more to talk about. So many things had happened, all of them good, that it was overwhelming to remember them all at once but that just made her more eager to do it and be overwhelmed by happiness for once instead of all the negativity she was used to.

“Oh, I’m certain he appreciated the fact that you were free to focus solely on him,” Faragonda nudged her which Griffin ignored in favor of taking a sip of tea that hadn’t been spilled since her friend was considerate and careful enough even when she was playful and Griffin really appreciated that. “Come on! What happened after that?” Faragonda asked, her voice more of a whine than Griffin was used to hearing it. It seemed like she was really curious.

Griffin looked down at her cup, feeling heat that had nothing to do with the hot tea rushing through her. “We, um... we did it on the balcony that evening,” she said, quickly lifting the cup to her lips but sneaking a glance at Faragonda as she was sipping on her tea.

“On the balcony?” Faragonda asked, her voice full of disbelief that wasn’t misplaced at all. “The two of you?” she asked, knowing them both too well. Valtor was possessive as hell and hated just the thought of someone else getting to see or hear her the way he did. And she was, except for really insisting on having her privacy respected, also too loud for any sexual escapades with the beginnings of an element of publicity to be a good idea. Yet, they’d ended up on the balcony in the first rays of moonlight when the whole hotel had been buzzing with life.

“Valtor said he wanted even the stars to know I was his wife,” Griffin said, remembering her own unwillingness at the face of his sudden change of moods and how convincing his kisses had been, how he’d carried her outside on the balcony and peeled off her satin robe from her shoulders, leaving her naked under the night sky. “I had to fight to keep quiet,” she said as both Valtor and Faragonda knew she had a hard time doing that. And it’d been even harder that night–they’d just been lucky the noise that’d been coming from all sides had drowned out the moans that had slipped from her lips–as he’d been pushing inside her, his mouth over the skin of her back he’d been able to reach and his hands over all the rest of her, his praises and groans in her ears as the wedding band on her ring finger had reflected the soft starlight and her own moans had filled the night sky. She’d felt like the whole world had been theirs, only existing to fulfill their desires and be a witness to their endless love.

Griffin looked down at her cup again risking to have the tears that had filled her eyes in an instant falling into her tea but she needed a second to take a hold of herself and Faragonda’s concerned gaze would only have her unraveling even more instead.

“Griffie, are you okay?” Faragonda asked immediately, her hand on Griffin’s, rubbing gently while the other one slowly extracted the cup from her grip and left it on the table.

“I just...” Griffin tried but her voice was trembling far too much with the emotion latching on to it as hard as it was shaking her whole being. She’d been full of feelings back then, too, but she’d been too busy focusing on Valtor and his own soul keeping hers company and touching her so profoundly that she hadn’t been able to pay attention to anything else. But now her mind was free of other things and she could feel the full impact of the recent events on her life and her psyche. “I never thought I’d have this, that I’d be... married,” the last word morphed into a weird sound as it merged with the sob it drew from her but it seemed that Faragonda still understood her as she squeezed at her hand to encourage her to get it all out. “I never believed I would get to have a husband, a family of my own, and all this happiness...” she said, letting the tears roll down her cheeks as she didn’t have enough energy to keep pushing them back no matter how much she didn’t want to cry any longer after she’d done that enough times already when she’d been miserable and lonely.

She’d thought that all her friends would get married and she’d be the only one left alone since she could never find a soulmate with all that darkness she carried in herself. She’d thought she’d never find someone to love her enough to want to be her family and marry her. And then when she’d had Valtor, she hadn’t thought about that, had done her best to just live in the moment and not think about everything that could go wrong. She’d done her best to hush her fear of abandonment until it had faded away and she’d forgotten all about it. And now she was married–the first one out of her closest friends to be–and it wasn’t hard at all to believe but the idea still struck her like a lightning, somewhat painful with the reminder of the fears she’d been made of before she’d met Valtor.

“Hey, it’s okay. Let it out,” Faragonda said as she scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, her hand still on Griffin’s, warm and soothing, and inviting all of her feelings to spill out.

“I don’t want to cry,” Griffin said as if she had much choice on the matter. The tears were falling from her eyes, unmoved by her attempts to hold them back.

“Let it get out, Griffie,” Faragonda said, her hand moving over Griffin’s arm and the gentleness of her actions and her voice was so familiar. It was home and provided the security Griffin had been missing during their stay in Greece that she’d needed to work out her emotional blockage. “It will come back to haunt you otherwise,” Faragonda said, her advice wise like it always was. “Let it out and let it go,” she said while she kept her grip on Griffin steady and firm without making it suffocating or painful and touched her head to Griffin’s as if to transfer her some of her own peace of mind, all of which Griffin was immensely grateful for. She had no idea how she would’ve done it without the support which might have been what had held her back from trying until now.

“Thank you,” she whispered, knowing the weakness of the tears wouldn’t transfer in that as the sound was already so quiet that even the pain coming out of her did not dare interfere with it as it was far too important to be left unheard.

“Always,” Faragonda said, the single word taking so much burden off of Griffin’s shoulders as it reminded her that Valtor wasn’t the first person who’d stuck around. She’d known Faragonda for decades and they’d always been so close, sharing every piece of their souls with each other. And while they loved her in different ways, they both loved her. And since Faragonda had always been there, that made it so much easier to let herself believe that her happiness was real and Valtor would be with her for the rest of eternity just like he’d promised. And her heart could rest with ease.

She chuckled, a small noise that sounded not quite right but she had to move into the present now, the thought of sinking further in the hurt that she desperately wished to leave behind too unbearable. Especially when it stood right next to the memories of what she had currently.

“I guess I’ll just hide from problems in Valtor’s arms for now on and break down over them in yours,” she said, trying to get some humor into the situation. And it didn’t sound like a bad option if she had to be perfectly honest. Her heart was bursting with so much love for Valtor when she was with him that she couldn’t remember the times before she’d felt that. And Faragonda had always been a crucial part of her support system, to the point where she’d already gotten used to trusting that she wasn’t a burden to her friend.

“I feel like I should argue with that first part but you already had enough emotions to deal with today so I’ll leave it for another time,” Faragonda said as she rubbed at her back before moving to pull away but Griffin caught her hand and pulled her back into her, the two of them falling backwards against the couch as she wrapped her arms around Faragonda, holding on.

“Just admit you want to hear more about the honeymoon,” Griffin said, giving a look that was far more serious than she actually felt currently. But all for the pretense.

“You caught me,” Faragonda sighed dramatically and gave a gut-wrenching stare before the grin broke out from underneath the facade she was trying to put on for the sake of their game. “I’m all ears,” she said, bumping her hip into Griffin’s, the playfulness so refreshing and so familiar at the same time. It did wonders for her soul.

“Valtor did get a little rougher than usual one of the days,” she said as she readily sank back into the memories of the honeymoon. She loved thinking about it, about all the ways in which it reminded her that she was Valtor’s wife now and he was her husband. “There might have been some ogling when we finally managed to get out of our suite and got to the beach, though I think he was taking out his frustration with the whole matter on the wrong party.” She hadn’t complained, of course. She knew he wasn’t angry at her and his jealousy had nothing to do with him doubting her. They’d gotten over that and she’d been happy to know it hadn’t come back not only because it was sparing them the strain on their relationship, but also because it made things easier on both of them when they knew he trusted her love for him. And he might have gotten a bit too possessive, biting and scratching, and thrusting into her like an animal, like she was a territory he needed to mark but she didn’t mind another reminder that she was his apart from the wedding band on her finger and he’d taken good care of her, making her come over and over again until she’d had no voice left to scream his name. It might have been one of her favorite experiences since she loved his passion and knowing he wanted her so much that he couldn’t quite get his impulses under control.

“No more beach?” Faragonda asked as she looked at her.

“Wasn’t exactly possible.” She’d been marked all over, some of the bites barely being hidden by her clothes and she’d joked his intention had been to keep her room bound which Valtor had admitted was a beneficial consequence. “Not that we felt the desire to go out much,” she said, remembering how she’d caught Valtor giving the bed in their suite sad eyes when they’d had to leave and go back home and, although she’d laughed at his unwillingness to part with it after all the fond memories they’d made there, she’d mourned the loss herself a bit too. They’d had some of their first experiences as husband and wife in it and while that mostly meant sex, she’d loved being cuddled next to him and feeling his even breathing as his chest pressed against her back more with every inhale, knowing that they didn’t have to be anywhere else. There was no work or responsibilities that they had to get up for.

Faragonda hummed and Griffin could hear the mirth in her voice as her friend knew what they’d been up to all the time. “Busy experimenting, were you?” Faragonda asked, the look she was giving her definitely more than just suggestive. It was so smug with the knowledge in it but Griffin was again struck by the realization of how happy Faragonda was for her, listening to her blabbering about everything and giving her the chance to live through the memories once again and experience everything she might have missed when the situation had been so intense with feelings. The care her friend held for her was coming through in so many different ways and it only made her hug her tighter and hope that Faragonda knew exactly how much she and their friendship meant to her.

“I’m pretty sure we did it in every position,” Griffin said, her eyes narrowing as she was trying to recall the details and make sure she hadn’t missed anything. Since she and Valtor were quite adventurous, she’d thought that they’d tried everything by now but he might have surprised her with a new idea or two. “He’d brought the leather cuffs I bought for Christmas,” Griffin said, her voice rising slightly from the surprise she still hadn’t managed to get under control. “I’m not quite sure how he managed to sneak them through airport security without me noticing but we sure had a great time.” He’d made sure to touch enough for the two of them when she hadn’t been able to and her head had been spinning the next day still as she’d missed the feeling of his skin all over her so it might have had some not so desirable consequences but she’d gotten back at him as she’d gotten on her knees and made him forget his name.

Faragonda laughed and shook her head. “Of course you did.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you’re up next and I won’t let you off the hook until you tell me what exactly you and Hagen were up to while we were gone,” Griffin gave that stern look that made her students fall back in line when they started allowing themselves too much.

“Fine,” Faragonda said, acting like Griffin expected a grand sacrifice from her. “We’re not nearly as busy when it comes to our sex life as you are but there might have been something interesting while you were on your honeymoon.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was interesting,” Griffin returned the knowing look Faragonda had given her earlier. “Just like I’m sure Hagen was glad to meet your demands,” she grinned at the smile that was fighting to break out from under the offended expression Faragonda was trying to pull off. Too bad she didn’t have the kind of power over her that she had over Hagen which had him bending to her will whenever she felt like it.

“I’ll tell you,” Faragonda gave her a serious look that was genuine this time, “but you’ll show me pictures of the wedding and what Valtor managed to catch of you on your honeymoon.”

“You’re all conspiring against me, admit it,” Griffin said since she’d had not only Valtor, but also Ediltrude and her mother pestering her about pictures too even when they knew she wasn’t a fan of those. “Fine,” she said when Faragonda didn’t budge under her overexaggerated victim routine. “I’ll show you.” She wasn’t thrilled about sharing her most sacred memories, but she didn’t mind if it was Faragonda she was sharing them with. Which was why she wasn’t in a hurry to disentangle herself from her friend when she could enjoy the hug a little while longer.