#next Friday should be counted as two separate Fridays

[marinkin]

they say what cannot be said will be wept and brother I am sobbing

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Elixir

wednesday addams x female reader

part i | part ii

summary: What happens when your best friend's roommate who you're always at odds with, suddenly becomes uncharacteristically affectionate towards you? Just what was in that mysterious bottle that set everything into motion?

word count: 1.9k

a/n: I've made a taglist! If you want to join, refer to this post

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Friday nights at Nevermore Academy held different meanings for different students.  Some gathered for the Vampire Book Club, an all exclusive group that spent their evenings immersed in gothic horror novels.  Others were part of the secret society, kicking off the weekend by leaving cryptic messages and riddles around the school in search of their next recruit.  And then there were those fortunate enough to be welcomed home by their parents for the weekend.

But for you, Friday nights meant something different. You had no interest in secret clubs or cryptic hunts. Instead, you chose to spend the weekend cozied up with Enid for a movie marathon.

With a grin, the werewolf-in-training held up two DVDs, one in each hand. "Okay, we've got 10 Things I Hate About You and When Harry Met Sally."

You point to the hand holding the first film and Enid squeals excited to begin your long awaited movie night. It's been difficult finding a time where you both could commit to a long task like watching a movie without Wednesday getting in the way.

It wasn't that Wednesday particularly got in the way of these activities, but you both did. You two would inevitably clash when put in the same room together and be at each others throats until you were separated by some brave soul (most of the time Enid).

"Are you sure we won't be interrupted?" You ask as Enid climbed into the bed.  "I don't want to get my hopes up, and believe that I can actually have a moment of peace in your room," you added, recalling all the times you've stormed out of this very room due to Wednesday.

Enid bumps into her drawer as she climbs into bed and almost knocks off a glass bottle with a bulbous base, fortunately you were able to grab ahold of the dresser leg in time and stabilize the furniture before the glass bottle filled with liquid could fall.

"I should probably put this somewhere safer," Enid says grabbing the glass and walking it over to Wednesday's side of the room and placing it on her desk. "And yes Y/n, I've quadrupled checked.  She should be in the car by now, heading home.  Her mom was really insistent on her visiting this weekend, so she had no choice." Once Enid and you cozy up together in her bed and turn all the lights off, you hit play and the movie begins.

"Wednesday will literally deep cleanse this room if she found out we're watching rom coms in it," you laugh as Heath Ledger makes his appearance on screen.

Enid giggles, "Sometimes I think she's a secret romance lover, recently I found out she knew the plot to Clueless."

"No way!  I wonder what critiques she has about that film," you muse sarcastically. "She definitely had to feel some type of way about that yellow outfit."

Enid hums and you notice that she's now engrossed in the film.  Taking the cue, you focused on the screen as well, ready to enjoy your peaceful night together.

Only thing was, you couldn't.

As the film continues, all you can think about was how relieved you are that Wednesday isn't here.  How you don't have to listen to the incessant click-clack of her stupid type writer.  How you don't have to endure her cold, calculating gaze that always seems to dissect your every word and action, and especially how you don't have to listen to her sharp and cutting remarks that always seem to find their mark.

At some point during the movie Enid notices that you were not present and paused the film.  "Okay what's on your mind?"

Absentmindedly not registering her question, you respond, "Wednesday." Your eyes go wide, "Wait! I meant-"

She smirks, "You know Y/n/n, for someone who hates her, you bring her up an awful lot.

You scramble at Enid's statement. What was that supposed to mean? "She's just frustrating you know? Get's under my skin, obviously I'm gonna bring her up."

Wednesday suddenly enters the room following your explanation, and sits at her desk without a word. Then after a minute she speaks, "It's gratifying to know that my efforts have left the desired impact."

You didn't care that Wednesday walked in on you complaining about her however you did care that Wednesday walked in.

You give Enid a look, "I thought she wasn't supposed to be here."  The blue-eyed girl holds her hands up in defense, "She wasn't! I swear she was supposed to be back Monday morning."

She then turns to her roommate and asks, "Wens, what are you doing here? I thought your mom wanted to see you?"

"Something came up," the unconventional girl replies short, not explaining any further.

Enid knew that was the only explanation her roommate would give, and there was no point questioning any further. You however did not care, and narrowed your eyes at Wednesday. "Something came up?" That's all you're going to say? You're just going to crash our night with no explanation?"

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, her voice cool and detached. "I wasn't aware I needed your permission to be in my own room."

"You know that's not what I'm saying," you snap back, frustration bubbling up. "You always do this—just show up and take over, like no one else matters. We had plans, Wednesday."

"And now you have new plans," she replies evenly, not a trace of guilt or concern in her voice. "Plans that include me."

You let out a groan. "But that's your problem, you can't just conform to our plans. You always give Enid and I shit for the things we want to do and we always end up catering to your needs. This is exactly why we can't get along. You never consider anyone else's feelings. It's always about you, your needs, your twisted games."

Wednesday's gaze narrows, and her tone turns icier. "If you can't handle a simple change in plans, that's your weakness, not mine. My presence shouldn't be so disruptive unless you're letting it be."

Letting it be?! You couldn't just let this dark kooky girl think that she has some sort of effect on you.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, Wednesday," you retort, standing your ground. "Your presence isn't 'disruptive' because I'm weak, it's disruptive because you deliberately make it that way. You thrive on pushing people's buttons, and I'm not about to give you the satisfaction."

Wednesday's expression remains unchanged, but there's a flicker of something in her eyes—amusement? "Is that so? Then why are you so bothered by it?  If I truly had no effect on you, you wouldn't even be arguing with me right now."

You clench your fists, struggling to maintain your composure. "Maybe I'm bothered because I care about Enid, and you're always in the way. Maybe I'm just sick of you making everything about yourself!"

Wednesday's eyes narrow further, and her voice drops to a whisper.  "You care about Enid, yet you argue with me, knowing it will disturb her. Perhaps you should examine your true motivations, because from where I stand, it seems you're more interested in clashing with me than in protecting her peace."

You scoff, "I don't know what you're implying." Behind your cool nonchalant front you were panicking, worried that Wednesday will say something that you did not want to hear.

You glance over at Enid who is picking at her nails, calculating the perfect time to break you and Wednesday up without getting hit in the crossfire.

"I'm sorry Enid," you say genuinely. As much as you hate to admit it, Wednesday was right, you're a hypocrite. You know how much it bothers Enid when you and Wednesday fought, yet you always find yourself caught up in these verbal battles with her.

Giving Wednesday one last glare, you storm out of the dorm room not knowing where exactly you're headed. All you know is that you're done with the movie night—and done with Wednesday.

As you march down the hallway, footsteps echoing behind you catch your attention. You don't slow down, but you know exactly who it is before she even calls out to you.

"Y/n, wait!" Enid's voice rings out, filled with concern. You sigh, your pace slowing down automatically.

Enid catches up to you, and grabs onto your arm incase you decide to storm off again. "Please talk to me, I know you're upset."

You find your frustration start to crumble as you sense the concern in your friend's eyes. "I don't know Enid," you begin, your voice quiet. "It's like every time I'm around her, I get so worked up. And tonight, I just couldn't take it anymore. I'm so tired of feeling like this, I'm just constantly on edge around her."

Enid carefully listens, her expressions softening with empathy as you speak. "I get it Y/n. But you don't always have to fight her. Sometimes walking away is the best thing you can do for yourself and for her."

You nod, understanding where Enid was coming from. "You're right, I guess it's just hard when she knows exactly how to get under my skin. And tonight when she accused me of arguing with her for some other reason, like it was something I wanted. It just got to me." You finish in a whisper.

"She has a way of getting to everyone, but that doesn't mean you have to let it affect you so much. You've got to take care of yourself too." She smiles gently.

"Yeah, you're right." As you look at Enid, you can see the worry in her eyes, not just for you, but for Wednesday too. You get it. Wednesday is her friend as well, and even though she came running after you, she's probably also concerned about how Wednesday's handling things. Not that anything in this world could really faze her, but still, Enid cares.

You sigh dreading your next words, "Go." Enid quirks her head to the right like a puppy. "Let's go back to your dorm, I have to grab my bag anyways, and... you should check on her."

Enid smiles in relief and gives you a quick hug before you stroll on back to the dorm room of the polar opposite girls.

As you approach the door a sense of unease starts to creep in, but you push it aside. You probably just didn't want to face Wednesday after your heated exchange.

When you open the door, the sight that greets you is... off. Wednesday is sitting at her desk, but something about her looks strange— her normally sharp posture seems a bit more relaxed, and her gaze, usually piercing, is unfocused, almost dreamy.

Before you can fully process this, you hear a soft rolling sound, and your eyes dart down to see Thing, casually pushing the glass bottle that Enid almost knocked over from earlier. It stops right at your feet. You pick it up, turning it in your hands. It's empty.

A chill runs down your spine as realization dawns on you. Wednesday drank whatever was in this bottle.

Enid steps closer, noticing your frozen expression and the empty bottle in your hand. Her eyes widen in alarm, quickly shifting to Wednesday, who now seems to be gazing at you with an intensity that's entirely different from her usual cold demeanor.

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice is hesitant, as if she's afraid of what the answer might be.

Wednesday stands up slowly, her movements uncharacteristically casual. She steps toward you, her eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, it feels like the air in the room has shifted.

"I'm glad you're back," Wednesday says softly, her voice carrying a warmth that catches you completely off guard.  "I was just thinking... how much better this night would be if you stayed."

Your heart skips a beat for reasons you do not know the answer to yourself. You exchange a bewildered glance with Enid, something is definitely not right.

The room falls silent, the tension thick as you both realize that Friday night just took an unexpected turn. Looks like your movie marathon will have to wait.

next chapter

[sadprose-auroras]

Strings Attached - Hazel Callahan x reader

Hey loves!! I think we're learning I'm incapable of writing anything that isn't friends to lovers lol. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

Content: smut, oral, fingering, awkwardness but cuteness, cursing. (18+ ONLY) - all characters are over 18.

Summary: Hazel grows jealous of PJ and Josie's sexual encounters since creating fight club. So the two of you decide to strike a deal. No strings attached. Word Count: 4.2k

By clicking 'read more,' you are confirming you are 18+.

“You know what? I’m kind of jealous.”

“Huh?” You looked up from the book you were reading, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You looked at your friend Hazel who was sitting next to you, scribbling in a notebook. She jutted her chin out, and you looked to see where she was indicating. On the football field in front of the bleachers you were sitting on, cheer practise was happening, and everybody had dispersed for a drink break. Your friends, Brittany and Isabel were cheerleaders, and their respective girlfriends, PJ and Josie, were down there too. Isabel and Josie were standing close together, talking and giggling, Isabel’s hand on Josie’s waist. Meanwhile, Brittany and PJ were off to the side of the group, full-on making out, tongues and all. You laughed to yourself at their lack of subtlety, but unable to stop yourself from blushing. You’d certainly never kissed anyone like that.

“You’re jealous cause you wanna make out with PJ? Or Brittany?” you teased. Hazel smiled and flushed, clicking her pen nervously.

“Absolutely not. I just mean…” she sighed. “I guess I’m jealous that they got what they wanted out of fight club. I know it was fucked, but they wanted sex with cheerleaders, you know? And they got it,” she shrugged.

“What are you saying, you want to have sex with a cheerleader? I mean, I’m sure somebody would want to, you’re gorgeous,” you remarked, putting your book down, crossing your legs and facing Hazel. She smiled shyly, shaking her head ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” she said earnestly. It was adorable. “But not necessarily. Just with anyone, would be nice. Don’t you feel like we’re missing out? We should be out there, dating, fucking-“ she stopped suddenly, going bright red. “I mean, not us, together, you and me, but like, separately, as individuals, with other people-“ she babbled, hands flailing around, and you couldn’t stop the next words out of your mouth, heart beating like crazy at Hazel’s words. You knew you were toeing the line of your completely platonic friendship, but you found yourself not caring. She was undeniably attractive, and you were incredibly horny.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Having sex with you, that is. If that’s something that you’d be interested in.” You spoke quickly, then gnawed at your lip nervously. There was no turning back now. Your heart was in your throat.

“Oh. Oh,” was all Hazel managed to say, and you suddenly had an impending feeling. You shouldn’t have said anything, and you were mortified, and you were going to take it all back, no, say that you were joking, although, would she believe you, and-

“I wouldn’t be opposed either,” Hazel said, interrupting your train of thought. Your back straightened. Oh, shit.

“Wait, really? Because it was only a suggestion, I just think that- well- maybe we could get it over with, y’know? We’re both horny, and we’re friends, and we’re comfortable with each other. It could be like… no strings attached.” You shrugged.

“No strings attached,” Hazel agreed, holding her hand out for you to shake. You laughed softly, gripping her hand and giving it a gentle shake, trying to ignore how sweaty your hand was.

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Hazel was a serial organiser. Always had been. And this was no exception. So, she planned the whole thing out. It would be at your house, Friday night, because your parents were away for the weekend. That way, you could go back to yours after school Friday and sleep in Saturday morning. It was all very clinical, methodical, planned out. Which is the way that it should be… right? It’s not like this was real. You were just… practicing. Practicing for when the real thing came along for both of you. That’s all it was.

That Friday was the longest day of your life. First, the morning consisted of you getting changed about five times, before deciding on an outfit. A low-cut tank top and your favourite jeans that you knew made your ass look good. Once you got to school, the nerves didn’t subside, they only got worse. Especially when at lunchtime, you sat in your usual spot with PJ, Josie, Isabel, Brittany, and Hazel. You couldn’t stop blushing and fidgeting, and everything Hazel said that was remotely amusing made you giggle like a little kid. Act normal, you kept scolding yourself. But it was so hard when Hazel was looking so good and you just kept picturing how it might go later. It was one thing to fantasize but it was another entirely to know you were actually going to be having sex with the girl sitting next to you that very same day.

At the end of your final period, you practically ran out of the door as the bell was ringing, rushing to Hazel’s locker to meet her. She wasn’t there yet, and you stood awkwardly, fidgeting with the strap of your bag, nervously rocking back and forth on your feet. When you saw her walking towards you down the hallway amid the crowd, smiling at you, you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey,” she said as she approached you, and, surprisingly, your nerves subsided slightly. The way she bounded over to you was so endearing. You were almost tempted to just grab her and kiss her there and then.

“Hey, are you ready?” you asked, and she nodded, leading you out to the carpark to her car.

Neither of you spoke too much on the drive, unsure of what to say to each other. It wasn’t exactly like any other Friday night where you would hang out, watch movies on opposite ends of the couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between you, and part ways with a friendly fist bump. You were also not sure if it was one-sided, but you swore you could already feel the sexual tension in the air. Hazel occasionally glanced over in your direction, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. As nervous as you were, you were mostly excited.

“Here we are,” she said when you pulled up to her driveway. You unclicked your seatbelt, grabbed your bag, and followed her inside. She opened the door for you, holding it open while you walked in. You thanked her, chuckling at her cuteness.

“Do you want a snack? I have cookies,” she opened the pantry, holding up the box proudly. You grinned, nodding.

“Who would say no to that?” you laughed, following her up the stairs to her bedroom. You placed your bag down and kicked your shoes off, sitting on her bed cross-legged while she did the same. You both took a cookie, eating in silence. You could feel your heart beating in your ears.

“Sorry I’m being so awkward,” Hazel said, readjusting so she was a little closer to you. “I’m just nervous.” The tips of her ears were pink, and all you wanted to do was kiss them.

“Me too,” you reassured, reaching out to place your hand on top of hers, and she smiled gratefully. “Think of it this way, it would be weird if we weren’t a little nervous.” She nodded in agreement.

“That’s true,” she said, looking down at your hands, which you were basically holding at this stage. She looked up at you, and you fought the urge to swoon. “I’m more nervous because you’re, well-“ she gestured towards you vaguely.

“I’m what?” you laughed, completely unsure what she meant. She stood up, and you raised an eyebrow, following suit.

“You’re like-“ she used her hands to gesture again, as if she was mimicking curves. You flushed, mouth dropping open. “You’re really hot,” she finally said, and your tummy flipped.

“You think I’m hot?” you asked teasingly, crossing your arms.

“Yeah, are you kidding me?”

“Well, I think you’re really hot too. Like, so attractive.”

“Really?” she asked. As if she was genuinely surprised. As if she walked around all the time looking like that completely blissfully ignorant. It was kind of hard to believe.

“Um, absolutely,” you replied with certainty. “Now that we’ve established we’re attracted to each other…” you trailed off.

“Now what?” Hazel asked, chuckling nervously.

“Maybe we could just start with kissing?” you suggested, moving a step closer to Hazel. You placed your hands on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze to reassure her.

“Yeah, that’s a good start,” she said breathlessly, placing her hands on your waist. You took a sharp intake of breath at the feeling, inwardly wondering how the hell you were going to keep it together later when even the slightest touch from Hazel made you feel dizzy with lust.

You both leaned in, shutting your eyes as your lips met. They slotted together, ever so softly at first, just testing the waters. You parted your lips slightly, kissing her a little deeper, and you were met with a positive response as Hazel wrapped her arms around you tighter, resting her hands in the small of your back and drawing circles with her thumbs. After a few moments, you both pulled away, breathless.

“Well done,” Hazel congratulated you, nodding thoughtfully. “You’re a great kisser.” You chuckled.

“You too. Really good. Can I kiss you again?” you asked, moving your hands up to gently cup the sides of her face. She nodded, leaning in yet again. It was deeper this time, as you both felt more confident. You gently introduced your tongue, and Hazel did the same, as she moaned instinctively into the kiss. This spurred you on; you had never heard a prettier sound. You ran a hand through her hair, as she moved her hands down to your ass, not squeezing, just resting there.

“Is this okay?” she asked against your lips.

“More than,” you murmured, kissing her again, already beginning to feel a throbbing between your thighs. Hazel gently squeezed, and you moaned into the kiss. You knew you were touch-starved, but this was insane. The way she was making you feel with every kiss, every touch, was ungodly.

“Hazel,” you breathed out, kissing her jaw.

“Mm?” she responded, voice catching in her throat. You smiled against her skin.

“Nothing, just like saying your name.”

“Say it again.” Her voice was dripping with need, and you decided then and there that you were going to do everything possible to get her to speak that way to you for as long as possible.

“Hazel,” you whispered, walking with her towards the bed. She sat down first, and you sat down on her lap, straddling her.

“Fuck,” she murmured, looking you up and down, hands resting on the swell of your ass. It was like she couldn’t decide where to look, trying to take everything in. And you were still fully clothed, only the strap of your tank top slipping off your shoulder to reveal your bra strap. She decided to take the opportunity to kiss your shoulder, and you tilted your head to the side, eyes fluttering with bliss. Her lips were so soft.

She fiddled with the bottom of your tank top rather awkwardly, leaving kisses at the base of your neck.

“Do you want to take it off?” you asked, biting your lip.

“Please,” she said breathlessly. You nodded, and she pulled the top over your head, tossing it aside, leaving you in the white lace bra you’d picked to wear specifically for this occasion. Your chest rose and fell in short breaths, and Hazel’s eyes glued to your tits weren’t helping. You decided to throw caution to the wind, and reached behind your back to undo your bra, sliding the straps off your shoulders. Hazel’s eyes widened, taking you all in.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” she furrowed her brows, as if she couldn’t believe it. Her eyes darted up and down you, and your sudden burst of confidence was gone again, her nerves making you more nervous. You suddenly felt very exposed.

“Haze, it’s okay,” you whispered, cupping the side of her face. “It’s just me.” She gave you a gentle kiss, and your heart burst in your chest.

“Thank you,” she said softly, looking at you with those beautiful doe eyes. “Do you want to take my top off?” she asked. It was so endearing, yet wildly sexy the way she asked. What was this girl doing to you?

“Fuck yes, I do,” you chuckled, as she lifted her arms up to help you pull of her t-shirt. You nibbled at your lip as you wordlessly reached behind her back to undo her bra, and she pushed it off her shoulders, then threw it aside, eyes never leaving yours. She was so beautiful, it almost hurt to look at her. It was like staring into the sun. But you couldn’t look away. Your bare chests pressing together only made the wetness pooling between your thighs more evident, and you briefly wondered if you had ever been so wet in your life.

“Can I?” Hazel asked, resting her lips just at the top of one of your tits. You nodded vigorously, running your fingers through her hair. She began leaving wet kisses, trailing down to your nipple. She took it in her mouth, and you gasped and arched your back. She swirled her tongue, before stopping way before you would have liked to show your other breast some attention. This time, she spent a little longer kissing, sucking, nibbling, paying attention to your reactions. She took your other breast in her hand, tweaking your nipple between two fingers.

“Hazel,” you groaned, shifting in her lap, grinding, trying to find some friction. She continued paying attention to your tits, as she began to attempt to undo your jeans. It was taking her a while, and you gave her a kiss on the top of her head, hoping to give her some reassurance.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she whispered, voice dripping with need, hands trembling as she fumbled at undoing the buttons. You frowned, gently placing your fingers under her chin to look up at you. She blinked, eyes wide, bottom lip pouting out slightly. Her eyes were like a sad puppy dog’s, and all you wanted to do was scream because how could somebody be that cute?

“Hey,” you reassured softly, “me neither.” You gave her a soft kiss. “And we don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s okay. Do you want to watch a movie instead?” Hazel immediately shook her head, hair falling in her eyes.

“No, no, no, I want to so badly, you have no idea,” she breathed out, hands moving to grip your waist. You inhaled sharply, instinctively shifting even closer. “I’m just worried I’m not gonna be any good.”

“If any of this has been an indication so far…” you trailed off, leaning down to pepper feather-light kisses from Hazel’s shoulder, up her neck, stopping at her ear. “You’ll be fucking amazing,” you whispered in her ear. Hazel gasped lightly, and you could feel the goosebumps rising on her skin. You smirked to yourself, her reactions giving you a major confidence boost.

“I want to taste you,” she whispered. “Is that okay?”

“Only if you want to,” you said, heart racing.

“I want to,” she reassured, affirming this by lifting you off your lap and laying you down. You grinned, her assertiveness in this action incredibly hot. You decided to help her out by pushing your pants off your legs, tossing them onto the floor. You were left in a plain pair of cotton panties, biting your lip when you noticed your wetness staining the front of them. Hazel’s eyes were wide, hands gripping your thighs.

“Shit, baby,” she muttered. You squirmed, heart exploding at the nickname. But you didn’t want to scare her, so you didn’t mention it. This was meant to be just friends helping each other out. At least that’s what you were telling yourself.

“Do you normally get this wet?” Hazel asked, genuinely curious. You shook your head vigorously, blushing.

“No, god no… this was all you,” you chuckled breathily. Hazel was a vision leaning over you, hands sliding to grip your hips, thumbs inching under the sides of your underwear making you inhale sharply. Her hair was mused, the chain necklace she was wearing swinging with every movement. She leant forward to kiss you, coming back to that safe space, and you happily accepted. You took the opportunity to move your hands to her tits, giving them a squeeze, then tweaking her nipples between your fingers. She moaned against your mouth, thumbs drawing circles right on that sensitive spot right at the crease of your thigh. She pulled away, moving down to kiss your stomach, stopping right at the top of your underwear for a moment.

She considered her next movements, before placing a feather-light kiss right on your clit through your soaked underwear. You inhaled sharply, instinctively bucking your hips. Hazel raised her eyebrows, as if she was surprised by your reaction. She began gently sucking and licking through your panties, and you couldn’t help the moans that escaped your lips. Hazel looked up at you the entire time, and you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. There was so much sincerity and vulnerability in her eyes, and it terrified you.

“Haze, please,” you exhaled, fingers finding her hair; not gripping, just holding. She got the message, and pulled your panties down your legs. They went flying as she threw them across the room, not looking away from you for a moment.

“You’re perfect,” she muttered into your skin, kissing and sucking at your inner thighs, absolutely leaving marks. She had a way of giving compliments that forced you to believe them; she never said anything she didn’t mean. Your heart melted. You couldn’t have been fonder of her in that moment.

“Hang on,” you said sitting up slightly, causing her to quickly pull away, clearly flustered.

“Shit, what is it? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“No,” you interrupted, not necessarily wanting her to finish that sentence. “No, I just meant hang on for a second, I’m just gonna…” you retrieved a pillow, lifting your hips up to place it under your lower back, then spread your legs apart a little wider than before. Hazel inhaled sharply at the sight of you all wet and spread out for her. It’s all for you, you wanted to say. Only you. But you didn’t.

“There you go, shouldn’t be too hard on your neck now,” you smiled at her, and she chuckled in relief.

“Always so good to me,” she murmured, before attaching her lips to your bare clit, flicking her tongue. You gasped, hand flying back to her hair and gripping this time. When she said she didn’t know what she was doing? Bullshit.

“You’re-you’re s-so good to me,” you barely managed to choke out. “Oh fuck, Haze, that feels so good.”

“Yeah?” she whispered, clearly enjoying herself, which only turned you on more. She began alternating between licking up and down your slit, swirling her tongue around your entrance, and paying attention to your clit. Every time you moaned a little louder, gripped her hair a little tighter, she made a mental note.

“Yeah, fuck, Hazel,” you groaned lowly. It was as if you couldn’t stop yourself from saying her name. She seemed to love it. As your breaths became shorter, her movements quickened, she hoisted your legs above her shoulders as you crossed your ankles, getting even closer. You gasped in surprise, then giggled.

“I could stay between these thighs forever, fuck,” she mused, giving them a rub. You bit your lip, heart fluttering at the implications of her comment. Did that mean she wanted to do this again? Before you could get too in your head, her lips reattached to your pussy and everything else faded away. You tossed your head side to side, suddenly very overwhelmed.

“Oh god, it feels too good, it’s too much, I can’t-“ you babbled, hands covering your face.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, take a deep breath, relax into it, feel it,” Hazel mumbled into your pussy, the vibrations only adding to the euphoria. You did as she said, taking a big, quivering inhale, then exhale. You tried to relax your muscles, focusing on the feeling of Hazel swirling her tongue on your clit.

“Good,” she praised into your pussy, blinking up at you. Looking into her eyes helped too; nothing else mattered when she was looking at you like that. You began playing with your own breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers, kneading, and Hazel groaned at the sight.

“You’re so hot,” she murmured, as she pulled away for a moment, chest heaving.

“You are- you’re- I-“ you tried, before getting completely distracted at Hazel running two of her fingers up and down your slit, collecting some wetness on her fingers. You watched, completely enthralled as she took them into her mouth, sucking her fingers and closing her eyes, moaning. It was the sexiest thing you had ever witnessed with your own two eyes. You were rendered completely speechless.

“I-you’re- that was-“ you were cut off again by Hazel circling your entrance with those same fingers.

“Is this okay?” she asked, and you nodded.

“Yes, yes, yes, please.” She entered you with one swift movement, taking your breath away in the best way possible. You were so wet, so turned on, so ready for her. She tested the waters by pulling her fingers out halfway, then slipping them back in.

“That’s good, that’s-“ you moaned. “Try doing this with your fingers,” you mimicked a ‘come hither’ motion. She followed suit, the cutest look of concentration on her face as she watched for your reaction. You moaned even louder, nodding vigorously.

“That’s it, don’t stop,” you squeaked, throwing your head back in pleasure. She continued the same motion at the same pace, and you noticed how close you were getting. When Hazel reattached her lips to your clit and began sucking, you were done for.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried out, hand flying back into her hair, gripping probably a little too hard. But it only seemed to spur her on.

“Harder, more,” you instructed, and she began finger-fucking you with more force, going deeper, sucking your clit a little harder, kitten-licking at the same time.

“Haze, Haze, Haze,” you gasped, mouth hanging open as you took in the sight of her. She was looking at you with wide, lustful eyes, continuing the same pace.

“I-I’m gonna-“ you squeaked between sharp breaths. Hazel slid a third finger in, curling her fingers at a rapid pace, tongue swirling on your clit in the most delicious way. You could tell she was determined to make you cum. This sent you over the edge, and you cried out, making the most ungodly sound that you weren’t certain was even that sexy, but you didn’t care at this stage. You threw your head back, mouth hanging open as waves of pleasure wracked your body, all the way from your stomach, spreading to your entire body. You could feel how sweaty you had gotten, but you didn’t care.

“Hazel,” you moaned loudly, riding out your orgasm as she continued her movements, increasingly slowing down. It briefly crossed your mind again how ridiculous her statement about having no idea what she was doing was. This was way more mind-blowing than you could have ever imagined.

“Well done, that’s it,” she whispered as she slowed down, before ceasing her movements. Breathe, you internally reminded yourself, slowly coming back to reality. Hazel slipped her fingers out of you as gently as you could, and you gasped at the sudden emptiness. You removed your trembling legs off Hazel’s shoulders, pulling her down by her shoulders so she was cuddled up on top of you.

“Hazel,” you whispered again, heart still beating like crazy, mind foggy in the best way possible. She kissed you, and you could taste yourself on her tongue. It was surprisingly hot. When you pulled away, you both let out a breathless chuckle.

“Was that okay?” she asked, brushing some of your messed up hair out of your eyes. You laughed in disbelief.

“That was- that was the hottest thing that I could have ever imagined,” you replied.

“Oh,” Hazel laughed, flushing a deep red. As if she was getting shy now. “Hey, I have a question.”

“Yeah?” you asked, fiddling with the chain resting at her neck. Your eyes met, and your stomach exploded with butterflies.

“Can this be- can this be strings attached now? Please?” Hazel asked nervously. You giggled, crushing your lips together. She let out a noise of surprise, but then kissed you back passionately. When you pulled away, you kissed the top of her nose, and she scrunched up her face.

“God yes,” you said breathlessly. Hazel held her hand out for you to shake with a playful smile, and you both laughed as you took it and shook it.

“Deal,” she joked.

“Now that’s out of the way…” you said softly, and Hazel raised an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. You rolled over suddenly, so you were on top of her now, hands intertwined above her head. “Your turn.”

[cosmichahn]

BEWITCHED

Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader —☆

about: melissa only expected for her friday evening to go as always, but plans change when she sees you crying on the sidewalk

warning/s: mild cursing

word count: 4.7k

note/s: first time writing for mel, might be a bit rusty but i really enjoyed writing this and hope you guys enjoy reading! lyrics from bewitched and from the start by laufey mentioned. (i also have not watched the new episodes yet so yeah)

The parent evening at Abbott Elementary just ended, as every teacher and every parent went their separate ways. Everyone but you who left about an hour earlier than everyone. No one knows why, no one dared to ask when you rushed out of the building after cleaning up your classroom and grabbing your bag. Not even a goodbye like you always do, especially to Melissa who grew worried because of this; but she decided not to call you, especially how it seemed as though you wanted some time alone.

Your movement wasn’t harsh, nor was it rough. It was more of a quiet rush that might as well be considered worse than an angry one.

Melissa says her goodbyes to her co-workers before setting off to go home. She looks at her phone set up on the side with an attached stand to it, pondering on whether she should call you and ask how you are or perhaps not. You’ve only been at Abbott for a year, and in that year, Melissa grew very fond of you. There was just something about you she couldn’t pinpoint in the beginning, not until one of her kids came rushing to her crying and asking for you, for some reason. You started as an aide just to see if the teaching position would fit you at Abbott after about four years of teaching experience in a different state.

When you were Melissa’s aide, her days never ended up being exhausting. You were a breath of fresh air and really helped her around the classroom; with managing two classes at once, it’s not an uncommon occurrence for Melissa to stress herself out. Eventually, you’ve come to apply for an official teaching role at Abbott to teach 6th grade Biology after 2 and a half months of being an aide. It was perfect since the last Biology teacher just straight up gave up and signed up for a resignation; which is a bad image given that it kind of shows the students a message that they may not be worthy enough to stay for since that said teacher left to go to Addington. It’s great that you’re qualified for the teaching role and Ava, especially, was thankful for that.

The redhead drives over the street, her mind only occupied with next week's lesson plans that she should finish on Sunday. Thankfully she’s already done with grading papers. As her mind wanders, she comes across someone familiar on the street, tears pouring down. She stops her car immediately near the familiar broken down car whose owner is the person crying in front of her. You.

Upon noticing the sudden warmth of someone’s presence, you look up only to feel embarrassed, so you quickly wipe off the tears that already stained the bottom of your shirt used for wiping them off. You have the mascara stained from all the tears, and the lipstick that smudged just right on the side of your lips. This is an ugly cry that you never want anyone to see, but Melissa is the exception. You don’t mind her.

She looks at you with not pity, but worry. Wiping off the dust and small grains of dirt she can get off beside where you are, Melissa takes a seat, trying not to be too close to you so you can have enough space to be comfortable or not feel too crowded. “Hon, what happened?” Her voice is so smooth that it sounds like the only symphony you can listen to for the rest of your existence. She looks at you, her eyes speaking more emotion than her words, as always.

“It’s nothing, really.” You sniffle your runny nose in between words that shake your voice and tone. “Just a mishap, but thanks.” Your eyes meet hers, giving her a light chuckle which makes her raise her eyebrow.

“You know me enough not to believe this stunt.” She slightly tilts her head towards you, crossing her arms. Melissa knows you too well upon the year she spent with you at Abbott. She knows when you’re being all bullshit. This is one of those times.

You look at your lap, then your hands that had small stains of black from that mascara that you wore today. “Fine, it’s something. But it’s not really that big of a deal, Mel.” Your gaze turns to her. “It’s just a parent being a parent.”

“Seeing you like this doesn’t make it feel like it’s a small deal.” Melissa isn’t always one for being interested so quickly towards someone, but you just managed to intrigue her the more she knew about you.

In defeat, you tell her what happened; but you feel guilty upon telling her all of this. For whoever up there’s sake, this is only your second year at Abbott and you’re already dropping a bucket worth of tears over one comment a parent made for the first time in your whole career. “One of the parents, um, she called me a terrible teacher because her son was struggling with something and all I really did was help her son out but she wasn’t listening to what I was saying and blamed it all on me.” Talking about your problems really has always been the catapult to a breakdown that you can never find a way to stop. “She blamed it all on me that her son’s grades weren’t high enough, when he has always excelled in all of his subjects. He’s on the verge of burning out, and I’m just trying to help him, Mel.”

“She thinks her son’s grades aren’t enough, when they’re high and he already reached his goal. The mother is so strict but I can’t speak on it because I am not the parent, I am only the one who teaches and calculates the grades. I don’t make the grades, I just help the students achieve the grade they want. She called me terrible. A terrible teacher. I have never been called that and I feel so bad, so guilty, and sensitive, for feeling this way about it. About what she said. And I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you when you’re handling two classes at once, you’re incredible, and I know how stressed you are at times. I care about you a lot.”

Melissa thinks before she speaks, signaling if she can touch you and you nod in response; and so she places her arm around your shoulder, pulling you in with a small apologetic smile. “Some parents really are like that, and unfortunately we can’t exactly do anything about it other than have a quiet and listening conversation with our student.” You hold onto her other hand, feeling her squeeze yours in comfort. “And you don’t have to apologize for feeling this way. No apologies to me, we all have our own experiences, hon.” Melissa removes her arm around you, where she is now holding both of your hands in hers. You melt under her touch, she brings you warmth. She’s the beaming sun that lifts up your glow. “Your feelings aren’t any less. I care about you too, I care a lot.”

You only mumble a quiet thank you to her, letting go of her hands before moving closer and burying your face on her neck, feeling the warmth she had to offer. The comfort her presence gave you was enough to recharge from a tiring day. “Thank you so so much, Mel.” The warmth Melissa gave not only came from her natural body temperature, but also the sudden contact of you leaning into her this close that sent up sparks in her mind and caused her to grow a blush she couldn’t take away.

Melissa places her right hand on your back, leaning her head on yours, before whispering “Anything for you, cara.”

“You’re so nice to me, Mel.” You whisper with a small chuckle, feeling her heart beating, feeling it speed up. “I never knew that something I would say is enough to make your heart crazy.”

“Great assumption you got there.” Melissa jokes, lifting your face off her shoulder. You looked a mess with your smudged makeup, and yet still she was enchanted by you; to her you were still beautiful as always, and she was glad that you felt comfortable being in states like this around her. She keeps your trust the way you take care of hers.

“No use in lying to me when I look like a mess.” You shrug your shoulders, feeling the tension of your feelings cool down and feel lighter. She only playfully rolls her eyes and chuckles at you.

You never denied your attraction towards Melissa, but that’s something she doesn’t know. Something you never had the guts to tell her; you were just scared, confused as to how and why would she date someone like you. Someone younger, obsessed with movies, and could talk about anything and everything within every second of the day. You’ve seen how Melissa acts when Jacob starts yapping about something, but then if you’re the one doing it, she never scolds or avoids you when you talk about your interests even though she doesn’t get most of them. Melissa could just be really friendly to a selected number of people, and you’re lucky enough to be one of those people; that’s one of the main reasons as to why you’d rather not express your romantic feelings for her.

Melissa is too important to you. She’s your friend first before all.

“Why are you even stopped here anyway?” Melissa questions, looking at your car parked on the side near hers.

Embarrassed, you answer her with a small hint of nervousness “Well, you see, I ran out of gas.” You also realize your inability to head home because you remember now that you left your house keys on the desk right before you rushed out of the school a while ago. “Shit! I left my house keys in the school. Son of a bitch.”

Your evening after that parent situation really isn’t going how you want it to. First, you forget your apartment keys in a school that’s already locked, and second, your car is out of gas. You have nowhere to go and nowhere to sleep in, until an idea pops up in mind, but Melissa had another idea. “You can always stay at my-”

“I can call Janine and ask her if I can stay.” You say in full confidence, remembering how Janine once offered for you to stay at her place if ever that there were any cases of unfortunate occurrences. But instead of Melissa agreeing and knowing it’s better for you to stay at Janine’s, she reacts differently.

“No! I meant you can stay at my place.” This peaks the curiosity in you. A year of being friends with Melissa, and yet you’ve never been to her house before, surprisingly.

“As tempting as that offer is, I don’t want to be in the way of your weekend.” You say. Melissa only scoffed and shook her head with endearment. “And I do know how much you cherish your privacy.”

“That’s nonsense, sweetheart. You’re an exception.” Before you can say anything, Melissa stands up to open her car, making sure that you follow. “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer, by the way.” She’s pretty persuasive. Pretty and persuasive. She smirks at you as she waits for your approach; she leans on the car and crosses her arms with the keys dangling on her finger. “We both had a tiring day, so a little wine wouldn’t hurt too, right?”

You nod with excitement, looking back at your car while approaching Melissa’s. “Don’t worry, we can get back tomorrow. I have a guy that can help with your car without hassle.” Thankfully, the area where you stopped your car when it ran out of gas was a safe space. Knowing this part of Philly, it surely is more peaceful. Melissa is so thoughtful and just the sweetest, when what she always does, at least to you, is what you think of as something like the bare minimum or just something she does to her close friends. You’re not that special to her, as to what you think; but to her, you’re more than that.

Before leaving off with Melissa, you first check over your car just to grab your things. “Let me just get some stuff from my car. I don’t want any important things gone.” She nods as you head off, unlocking the back of the vehicle and grabbing some things. You take your files filled with student papers you need to check off and grade, then in front of the car is your bag with all of the pens you use and essentials. You double check to lock the door then look over to Melissa. “Well, it seems like we’re both gonna be occupied.” You say, showing her the very thick file folder you have.

“We can grade papers and drink wine.” She suggests, and all you can imagine is grading papers on the table together with Melissa’s glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose, hair up in a loose bun with a wine glass in hand and the smell of her lingering in her home. She holds your hand every so often after taking a sip of her wine and you brush a strand of hair off her face while she smiles at you and thanks you. That is all an image in your head.

“Sounds like a fun evening.” Is all you can say in reply.

As you approach her car, Melissa opens the door for you and you quickly thank her for it. The car ride was comfortable and quite fun. It’s not your first time riding in Melissa’s car, and usually she leads playing music in the car, but she actually lends you the aux cord from time to time. You connect your device to the speaker and radio in her car, where you then blast one of Laufey’s songs; a fairly recent artist that Melissa denied when you first played it around her, but she soon grew fond of the artist knowing that you loved listening to her music a lot.

Melissa would always find herself looking the artist up just so she could be reminded of you when she listens to it. It just for some reason makes her feel closer to you whenever she engages with things you love.

“You bewitched me.” You sing along the rhythm, slightly bopping your head to the light and magical tone of the song. Melissa quietly glances at you, a smile growing on her lips upon adoring the sight, before looking back on the street. “From the first time that you kissed me.” The lyrics catch Melissa, causing her to swallow the invisible lump in her throat. “To experience this song is to make my life complete.” You joke, not imagining anyone to dance to this song with other than Melissa.

Upon hearing this, Melissa wanted you to kiss her under the bustling lights of an evening in Philly. She wanted to lean in and whisper how much she wanted to keep you in her heart. She wanted to be the one who makes you bewildered, bewitched.

“Well, if I ever get the time to buy her vinyl, that would also be an alternate way to complete my life.” You shrug, chuckling.

But I’m falling so badly, I’m coming apart. The song continues. You cast me a note, cast a spell on my heart.

Melissa takes a quick glance over the radio. Well, you’re right about that. She thinks to herself, indulging the lyrics of the sweet yet whimsical song.

“Not the first time you’ve talked about the artist.” She looks over to you through the front mirror, noticing the embarrassed chuckling you let out. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I think it’s cute.”

“Thanks, Mel. People don’t really engage with me when I talk about things I love.” You look over at her with an endearing smile. “But thankfully I have you, don’t I?”

“I talk about firefighters to you a lot, hon. I think we’re even.” She laughed quietly. “And you really love the food I make.” In all honesty, there’s a mix of excitement and nervousness in Melissa right now. It’s your first time both going to her house and staying over there for the weekend. Is the sink cleared? Will there be time to whip up a quick meal? Is her bedroom clean? Wait, you’re sleeping in her bedroom? On the same bed as her? Unless you don’t want to, she’ll just sleep on the couch. Melissa’s mind just shuffled.

You notice that Melissa kind of dozes off, so you try to catch her attention. “Mel, you good?” Waving off your hand beside her, until you catch her attention.

“I’m good. Just thinking of something.” You quirk an eyebrow making an attempt to guess, but trying not to push it much as for Melissa to not get frustrated.

You remember the vending machine guy that the Abbott crew would always mention to Melissa. Given that he leaves hints that he likes her. This happens way after they forget to tease you and Melissa for being close. Although there’s some sort of jealousy that flows through you whenever this happens, it’s not really something you can do anything about, given that perhaps Melissa feels the same for him too. “Ooo, is it Gary?” You tease.

Melissa shakes her head quickly. “No, that’s not- he’s not-”

“Oh! My bad, sorry.” You apologize but she denies this apology, saying that there’s nothing to apologize for.

The next moments were filled with comfortable silence, as you then start humming to the next song playing.

Don’t you dare look at me that way; I don’t need reminders of how you don’t feel the same.

─────────

Shortly afterwards, you arrived at Melissa’s place, seeing the beautiful interior displayed right in front of you. She looks at you adoring her house, with only the luminescence of the neighboring houses and the moon lighting up your face. “Beautiful.” Melissa compliments.

She leads you to the door, unlocking it while you stand behind her, carrying the file folder and your bag. You’re greeted by a well decorated living room and several photo frames across the walls and the side tables. “You can just place your things on the couch and I’ll whip us up something to eat for dinner and maybe a snack while grading. That sound good?”

You nod in response, carefully placing your things on the couch that’s still covered by plastic, but that’s okay. It’s very Melissa, quite as you think.

“You know, Schemmenti, you’re all heart and passion.” You say, following her to the kitchen. Melissa manages to short circuit after what you just said, trying to mentally fix her composure.

“Flattery doesn’t work around here. Sorry, Sweetheart.” She shakes her head with a soft chuckle before turning to you and leaning on the counter. “And besides, you’re not helping in the kitchen, but you can sit there and look pretty.”

Compliments like these are common between you and Melissa. Both of you appreciate and care for each other’s everything; even when Melissa’s stress and temper gets a hold of herself, or when you go quiet from being too overwhelmed. “Funny, but I do need to fix this face.” You point at the several faded marks of makeup on your face, making Melissa walk towards you and offer to take you upstairs where the bathroom is.

She points to the bathroom then leaves you there, with the idea going across her mind that you probably don’t have any spare clothes to change into to be able to sleep comfortably. Due to this, while you’re getting yourself clean in the bathroom, Melissa gets an old Eagles shirt that she found in her closet and a pair of sweats she never uses. She knocks on the bathroom door with the clothes hanging on one of her arms. “I got you some clothes, hon.” She says, and you reply to her with thanks. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you so much, Mel.” You open the door and thank her, carefully taking the neatly folded clothes from her arm.

You soon finish freshening up, looking at yourself all fixed up in the mirror with the change of clothes on. The Eagles shirt smells exactly the way Melissa does, and you take it in, feeling as though she’s with you right now. The scent fills you with comfort and warmth you don’t want to stop feeling.

Upon arriving at the kitchen, you’re greeted with a quick meal that Melissa made that’ll surely fill you up for the evening. You wonder how long you took in the bathroom because Melissa is already in a different set of clothes with, just as you thought, her hair in a loose bun. She sees you and the only thought that comes across her mind is ‘Damn’ There was just something about seeing you in her clothes, in her kitchen, even in her car, that felt so domestic. It’s the same thing she feels every time she offers to pick you up from somewhere or when you have lunch ��dates’ where it’s just the two of you; or when sometimes she asks you to go to the farmer’s market with her, and you ask her to go to music stores and bookstores with her.

Now, you’re here in her house. You’re staying over for the weekend, and she can’t help but just keep herself from getting too attached to the idea of a domestic life with you.

“That looks delicious!” You exclaim, walking towards the counter where Melissa had already set up two stools and two sets of plates.

“You look delicious.” She blurts out which makes you burst out laughing, in mind that she was probably just joking around like always. You playfully punch Melissa’s shoulder, and if anyone were to ever do that to her, she would probably punch them harder, but she only looks at you with her brows furrowed.

You shake your head, “I thought flattery doesn’t work around here.” You sit across Melissa from the counter where you both prepare to eat. It’s filled with silence, before she clears her throat and tells you.

“Delicious doesn’t say it all.” Melissa shrugs, wanting you to take the flirty compliment.

After exchanging a few laughs with each other over dinner, you stop to look at Melissa who just finished laughing at something you said. “I like this side of Melissa Ann Schemmenti.” You rest your chin on your palm, elbow flat on the table with your eyes only to hers. “Anyone who would have the chance to be with you is lucky enough to experience what it feels to have a domestic life with you.” You say without thinking of what this might cause to the aura in the room.

“Well, um, not that it matters when I say it.” You say, feeling your palms grow sweaty by the clock. “I think a domestic and simple life with a partner I love is just a really incredible thing, I mean, I would want that kind of life to be mine. Not that I’m assuming that it’s the same thing you want, of course.” You smile apologetically.

“You think about it a lot?” Melissa asks, intrigued to know more and yet still going back to what you previously said about her. Even though she knows she has feelings for you, it still sits in the back of her mind that she may not be fond of marriage. Especially with things during and after Joe, she’s not sure when, but she knows she’s not ready for anything other than a relationship. No marriage, no union or anything.

But why is it that when she thinks of you, she thinks of marriage? She thinks of a life where she wakes up with you on her side. She gets ready in front of her vanity with your reflection in the mirror adoring her from behind. Walking hand in hand around every corner of town. Giving each other flowers just because you felt like it. Taking care of each other when one’s sick. Talking about everything and nothing at night.

“Marriage? Not a lot, but settling with someone I love? Of course.” You like the topic of it all. You love love; how it’s always there, how it doesn’t always have to be a person, that it can grow in places or on people you don’t expect. To love and be loved is what you want, and have always wanted. “I want to one day be loved. To be held, heard. Be sappy and all. To wake up and do the littlest of things. It doesn’t matter if it’s only a quiet day at home or looking through the grocery list while the sounds of the washing machine bustle in the background.” After that brief monologue, you catch Melissa’s eyes.

“You never know.” She gives you that reassuring and hopeful smile. “That person might just be the one in front of you after all.” Melissa sees the way your expression changes from sentimental to a confused furrowed look that made her eyes widen upon realizing what she had just said.

This makes you think for a bit, your brain split in half. Is she just being helpful with the conversation or is she confessing something. She waits for a response quietly as the two of you silently sit across each other. Does she regret saying this? Is she overthinking things?

“I hope so.” You respond nervously. “Are you saying what I hope you’re saying?” She takes her hand out on the table, hoping for yours to hold hers and you do so.

“I want it to be me.” She holds your hand softly.

“Oh.” The only word that came out of you, not being able to process things immediately. Until this registers in mind. “Oh.” You’re clueless as to how to respond. “I need to pinch myself.” You say before standing up, in which Melissa lets out a soft laugh. “Jesus Christ.” You mumble to yourself.

Melissa stands up to tidy the table, but all you can do is freeze in place. Perhaps this is what really happens when your mind short circuits. She puts the used dishes properly in the sink, before wiping her hands clean where she then walks to stand near you, the counter facing your back as she is now standing in front of you. Only the surface of the counter and Melissa in between your body, with only a shorter distance between herself and you. She walks closer, making you walk back, but the edge of the counter is now sticking to your lower back. Both of her hands are placed on either side of the counter behind you.

You clear your throat, only able to look her right in the eyes. Her lips were right there, ready for you to lean in closer just to feel what you’ve always wanted to feel. Her. The risk is for you to take. No, for the both of you to take.

“May I kiss you?” Before you could receive a vocal response, you feel her lips coming in closer onto yours. With closed eyes, Melissa’s hands make their way up to your hips, then to your waist, which slightly lifts up the shirt you were wearing; and so the coolness of your untouched waist was cooled from her fingertips.

A smile grows from your lips, returning it. The world feels as though it froze around the two of you. She pulls away only to look at you and your stunned and lovesick reaction, not wanting the moment to end before kissing you again. A groan escapes her lips, relief and excitement. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” Melissa mumbles in between kisses.

You swoop in and place both of your hands on her cheeks, feeling the warmth of her face on your palms. She takes a short step back as you lean more into the kiss, giving a light bite on her lower lip where she then smiles softly. “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen.” You whisper close to her, feeling her pull you closer by the waist. You’re smitten, and finally, she knows.

Your hands find themselves on Melissa’s shoulders as she pulls you in for a tight hug, her arms snaking around your waist as you rest your head on the crook of her neck.

The world froze around us, you kissed me good night.

[impalaimagining]

Does It Make A Sound?

Word Count: 2,413

Warnings: mentions of psych ward/unstable behavior

A/N: written for @jacklesversebingo and because of a random prompt they dropped in the discord this morning. Prompt at the bottom to avoid spoilers.

Square filled: small town setting

You’re seven years old, your mother kneels in the garden, a flowered foam board beneath her, failing at its job to protect her knees from the sharp rocks in the dirt. As you roam the flower beds beside her, a loud bumblebee catches your attention and you follow it into the open yard. It buzzes, winding its way around the grass and into the treeline at the back of the property. There should be a fence there, separating you from the densely wooded area, but the wooden pickets crumbled under the fallen branches of last winter’s storm. It’s impossible, almost, to see into the thick tangle of branches, even as far down as your eye level. The forest isn’t exactly scary - it’s just dark.

And… loud.

The only sound you heard in the yard was the bee, but standing next to the trees, it’s like another world coming alive within the leaves. The birds chirp, the bugs chitter and skirt across the cold ground, and there’s even a frog bellowing from the creek burbling nearby. But that’s not what really draws you in.

That day - the day you innocently wandered through the grass, following the path of an unknowing bumblebee - is the first day you hear the voices. 

On your ninth birthday, you invite all of the friends from your class to come to your house. Your mother promises you a pink and purple cake, just like the one in the bakery’s catalog, and though she usually doesn’t come through on her promises, on this one, she delivers. A small, two-tiered pastry sits on your kitchen counter as your classmates filter through from the front door into the backyard. 

Your father has repaired the fence since the day you meandered into the forest, your mother’s fearful scream at her realization of your absence prompting him to leave immediately for the hardware store in town.

Still, despite the barrier, you’re drawn to the woods. The voices beckon to you every time you enter the backyard. You want to dive into the thick boughs of the pine trees and follow the sounds of children guiding you to play with them. But you can’t; you’re confined to the safety of the yard. Quite literally, fenced in.

Your friends run and play behind you, delighted squeals coming from the girls while the boys chase them. But you don’t care. You don’t want that. You want the forest. The voices want you in the forest.

Sixteen. Your first time driving a car, your first love, your first heartbreak.

He kissed your best friend behind the snack stand at the Friday night football game while you were buying him fries. 

You run, but not into the house, not through the house, around the house. Around the fence. You run past Mr. Walter Smith’s clothesline, past his shed full of landscaping equipment. You breach the treeline, and suddenly, your crying subsides. Your sobs turn into deep, calming breaths as you inhale and exhale the new air around you.

You’re in the forest.

The voices surround you. You feel them, like whispered words from a lover, ghosting across your skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of the breeze caressing you. You’re alone, but despite the way your heart shattered at the sight of your ex-boyfriend and your best friend, you’re certainly not lonely inside the darkness of the woods. 

You’re finally inside, and you’re silent, barely allowing yourself to breathe too loudly. The forest has a heartbeat, a pulse, breath flowing through it. You’ve never felt more alive. The forest is alive, though you see no signs of life. No birds flying, no bugs crawling, no deer or squirrels or mice. There’s nothing, but there’s everything. 

Your mother’s voice permeates the dense foliage, but you barely hear it. You don’t care, don’t give even a second thought to her screams as she calls out for you. Closing your eyes, you let the forest overtake you. Your arms feel like branches, your legs press together and become a solid tree trunk, your hair bristles like the leaves. 

Faintly, distantly, you’re aware of nails clawing at your arm, then your shoulders, and suddenly you’re shaking. Your mother’s shrill voice racks you, drawing you out of your daze. She raises her hand just as you come to, and you know if you hadn’t awoken when you did, her next move was to slap you across your face. 

But deep in your heart, and maybe because of the whispers still ringing in your ears, you know that wouldn’t have happened. The forest sent you back to her before she had the chance. The forest protected you.

It’s the autumn after your twenty-eighth birthday, and you’re packing up boxes, taping across the seams at the top, and stacking them beside to your apartment door.

“Felix…” You warn your tuxedo cat. “Don’t even think about it.” The boxes are stacked precariously, and he’s known for his uncanny ability to find the weak spot in every piece of cardboard he’s ever met. 

He’s a rescue, and a bit of an asshole, but he won you over with his big green eyes the minute you saw him at the pet shop. He heeds your warning, instead stalking toward you and climbing into the hole in your lap where your criss-cross-applesauce position leaves a void. You rest your palm on his head and let him nuzzle against your hand.

“You ready to go, buddy?” You coo at him, and he purrs, like he approves of the entire uprooting of your life. “That makes one of us.”

A shaky hand hovers above the doorknob; you’re hesitant to go inside. You’ve not been back since your father died and they sent your mother to her permanent inpatient stay at a psychiatric facility. Thankfully, you were eighteen at the time and no one had to be your keeper. So you picked up and moved halfway across the country under the guise of just being a normal high school graduate going to college.

It’s late, and you’re grateful that you thought to call and have the town’s handyman install a motion light on the front porch. Already fumbling with Felix’s carrier, you don’t have a spare hand to hold your phone for a flashlight along with finding the right key for the front door.

Once you reach the door and flip through four keys before settling on the correct one, you shove the old wood with your hip and it creaks open, like it’s reluctant to let you back inside. Tossing your keys onto the table beside the door, you run your hand along the wall for the light switch. When you find it, the yellow glow of the globe light on the ceiling illuminates the room. A shiver runs up your spine. 

Nothing has changed.

The walls are still the same weird shade of pink, floral wallpaper trim wrapping around the entirety of the room along the top of every wall. The plaid couches, somehow also floral - what was with your mother and flowers? - sit dusty, in the same place they’ve been for two decades. You set down the cat carrier and puff out a breath as you look around.

You eventually empty your hard-side cooler into the fridge, having packed the bare minimum to make it through the weekend before you have to travel into town and grocery shop. Heaving your bags up the steps, you haphazardly throw them into your childhood bedroom and shudder as the dolls in the corner catch your eye. Your mother allowed you to change a few things as you aged out of dolls, but according to her, they were a family heirloom, so you were required to keep them perched somewhere in your room. As if a seventeen-year-old girl cares about a family heirloom. 

You decide the boxes of dishes, countertop appliances, pantry-type food, can wait until the daylight eases your mind tomorrow. You strip the old sheets off your twin-size bed and replace them with the new set you purchased at Target before civilization dwindled to practically nothing as you neared your hometown. Topping the bed off with your favorite throw blanket, you settle in for the night, Felix wrapped around himself in the crook of your knees. Your eyes find the window, illuminated by the light of the almost-full moon. Even from the comfort of your bed, you see the treetops silhouetted against the night sky. The forest is waiting for you.

You stand on the crumbling bricks just outside the door, closing your eyes as the morning sun threatens to take the chill from the air. Swallowing after a slow sip of coffee, you inhale deeply through your nose. There’s something about the smell, the trees and the fallen, dead leaves, the dirt you know is crawling with the same earthworms you used to dig up before going fishing with Mr. Walter Smith from next door. It all swirls and combines as you take your deep breath in, and all at once you’re hit with the smell of home.

You realize then that you’ve left the brick patio, like your feet have moved without your approval. You’re standing at the fence, two decades old and still standing just as strong as the day it was built, which has you giving silent kudos to your father’s craftsmanship. Clutching the porcelain mug between your palms, you glance up. The trees have grown, somehow now even more looming and paralyzing than they were when you yourself were two feet shorter. 

After looking at the trees for what seems like an eternity, you gasp. You’re standing in the exact same spot you stood on that first day, where the sounds of the forest pulled you in and hooked their claws into you, keeping you addicted to knowing what truly lay beyond the boundaries of your yard.

That day, the voices swirled - the whispers, the quiet giggling, the gentle caress of someone beckoning you in, a soft “come here” lingering in your ear. Today, standing where your feet have stood countless times before, you’re nauseous. Something is very, very wrong.

It’s silent.

In the new, eerie quiet, you hear footsteps approach to your right, crunching against the dead, brown grass, littered with yellowed leaves. The hair on the back of your neck stand at attention, goosebumps prickling the skin of your arms. Letting out a shaky, almost silent breath, you shift your weight and spin on your heel, throwing a punch in the direction of the-

“Whoa, easy!” His voice booms with a chuckle as he catches your fist in his palm. “Okay, noted. Don’t sneak up on the new neighbor.”

His words hit you. New neighbor.

He has no idea the history of this house, these woods, you. 

You wrench your hand out of his grasp and pull it back to your side.

“Who are you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Moved in a couple years ago. I thought they were talkin’ about tearing this place down.” He nods in the direction of the house - your house.

“They - they were.” You swallow hard at the thought of losing the only real home you’ve ever known. “That’s why I came back.”

He draws back, brows furrowed. “Came back?”

“This is my house.” You glance at the back door. “I grew up here.”

His eyes follow your gaze to the window on the second floor - your childhood bedroom. When he brings his stare back to meet yours, he finds your eyes filled with unshed tears. Clearing his throat, he brings you back to reality.

“Sorry.” You wipe hastily at your eyes and shake off your emotions. “Um, anyway, you said you moved in? Moved in where exactly?”

He points to the house next door, to the Smith’s house, which you only now realize has been repainted, the shutters now a sage green while the house itself is a dusty shade of gray, all the trim and accents painted dark green. It’s beautiful, and you take a second to let it sink in that the house almost perfectly matches the colors of the forest.

The silent forest.

“Have they been doing any construction around here?” You can’t help but ask. Maybe they’re cutting down trees, disturbing whatever - whoever - lives in the forest. Maybe the voices are hiding.

Your neighbor shakes his head and frowns. “Not that I know of, and in a town this small-”

“Everybody knows everything.” You both finish the sentence in unison.

“You must’ve met Marge.” You let yourself smile fondly at the memory of Marge Wilson.

“How do you live here without meeting Marge?” He laughs.

“Man, she’s gotta be… ninety now?” Your eyes widen.

“Eighty-seven last week, actually. And still at the diner every morning.” His smile seems warm as he thinks of the sweet old lady who can’t manage to keep her nose out of anyone’s business, and always knows everything going on in Milford. 

Milford, where almost nothing has changed since you left a decade ago. Nothing except the brewery on Main Street, next door to a Starbucks. Nothing except the tattoo shops boasting fine line artwork instead of heavy-handed barbed wire tattoos. Nothing except the new neighbor mowing Mr. Walter Smith’s lawn. Nothing except everything about you. Nothing except the voices.

“Did it look like they were bringing machines in?” He breaks your train of thought, referring back to your question about construction. 

“No, no. Nothing like that.” You shake your head. “Forget it.”

He shrugs. “Well, anyway. It was nice meeting you. Just wanted to check in and make sure you were okay. I thought I heard glass break while I was on my way out.” His eyes fall to the shattered mug at your feet. 

“Oh, uh. Yeah, I’m good.” Your gaze darts to the treeline.

“Something in there?” He quirks a brow and chills leach through your body.

“N- no.” You stammer.

“Not anymore.” His tone is stern, knowing, and you can physically feel the blood drain from your face. You turn to look at him. He gives you a single nod, finally extending his arm to shake your hand, and it washes over you that you’re about to get a lot more than you asked for by moving back here.

“I’ve got some coffee on, c’mon over.” He nods toward the green house. “I think you’ve got a bit to catch up on.” Your hand, again shaking, reaches out and finds purchase in his grasp. “Name’s Dean.”

Prompt - You’ve gotten used to the voices you hear in the forest near your house. You’ve grown up with them. One day, however, there is only silence.

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[pekoehoneyncream]

Ghoaptober # 25

Prompt: Alone

Words: 1200~

TW: Unkind Mental Dialogue, Hamfisted Flower Metaphors (sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

I've no idea what else to tag this as, but if you've any ideas please let me know

Enjoy!

Soap had been informed that he was being granted a freeday. That Friday would be entirely his, to do with as he pleased. If what pleased him was within regulations, of course. He’s been dreading it from the very moment he was first told and while he was stuck-still fearing it, it came.

He’d gone to bed Thursday night with one last bit of traitorous hope still crying ‘maybe this time will be different’ from a dandelion clock in his soul’s weedful garden, and had awoken this morning to find hope’s stem bare. His garden grown wild with windflowers, plume thistle, hairbells, and nettles once more. 

Staring up at the ceiling tiles of his bunk, Soap tried to convince himself to get up, to sit up at the very least, to make that first step towards facing the day, but found himself unmoving. Laying there with a dull sense of despair as he fails and fails again. Purposelessness slackens his limbs, feels sunk into his very bones, unaccountability a leaden weight that anchors him where he is. 

Alone, with nothing to do, no one counting on him, and not a soul to be disappointed by his inaction, he finds himself unable to unstick himself from his rut. 

Just as he'd known would happen. 

His phone dings and he finds it in his hand within the next moment, without any conscious decision to pick it up off the floor from where it stays just under the edge of his cot while he’s sleeping. It’s Ghost, he’s texted over one singular question mark.

Checking the clock, Soap realizes with impotent urgency that breakfast time had blown past while he’d been busy festering in his bed. He doesn’t know how to respond, he has no explanation, no excuse, he hadn’t turned off his reminders, he’d heard his phone buzzing with the silent alarms he’d long ago set to help keep him on track. It had just felt so unimportant to him at the time.

What had been the point of going to breakfast when he had nothing to do after breakfast, what would he be eating for, why should he fuel a body that was going to be languishing in inutility all day. It was pointless, so he hadn’t. Hadn’t even bothered to stop the alarm, just letting it vibrate itself out. 

But he’d worried Ghost, or else he’d confused him enough by not appearing for breakfast that his L.T had felt obligated to seek an explanation. Soap mustered himself and sent back three thumbs-ups. One would be too abrupt, two was too eager, but three felt inoffensively joking enough to be worth sending. 

Another question marked dinged onto his screen within the same minute of Soap responding. He stared, puzzled. What could Ghost be asking about now? After scrolling back up to check if he’d missed a question Ghost had sent or something, Soap could have smacked himself, and did let his phone drop despairingly onto his chest. He’d forgotten that he never sends Ghost emojis on their own, he only does that with his siblings. With Ghost he barely ever uses them, and when he does it's mostly as tone indicators for difficult to parse statements. Soap liked actually talking to Ghost too much to ever be so taciturn as to just use emojis, normally that is.

“Sorry LT. Didnt feel up to bkfst” He types out and forces himself to send, after watching precious minutes keep ticking by while he agonized over it.

“Whats wrong” Ghost's response pops in, then “Sick?” in a separate text immediately after.

Soap knows he’s really worried Ghost now, if the man is skipping apostrophes and sending stacked texts. He's devastatingly tempted to agree, to say he’s sick, instead of just a useless layabout. 

“Johnny?” Ghost’s concern bleeds from the screen as Soap’s fingers hover over the keyboard and with a grimace he punches in his response.

“No. Just didnt feel up to it”

Knowing that Ghost knew of his sudden onset of redundancy was a horrible sick feeling that sloshed about his gut, but Soap also knew that lying to him would have felt worse. 

A simple “Okay” from Ghost and Soap lets his phone drop again, hanging his hand off the bed to abandon the device back onto the floor. 

Losing himself to the ceiling tiles and the yawning pit that's echoing all his many failures back to him from the depths of his heart, Soap wallows. If rot and decay weren’t progression his garden would be wilting and blackening. Instead it follows his lead and stagnates. Unmoving as still-water and twice as toxic. Time is meaningless to him on a normal day, but now he torments himself with guesses at how long he’s spent just laying there, doing absolutely nothing.

It can’t have been more than five minutes, but what did he know, full hours could have run by him now and he’d be none the wiser to it. 

A rap at his door pulls him from that spiral and he stumbles off his cot to open it. Ghost is stood there, a banana in hand. Carried with the same reverence he gives mission objectives. 

“L.T?” Soap steps out of the way and lets Ghost stalk into his bunk, flushing when Ghost’s scan of the room lingers on his cot with its freshly disturbed sheets.

“Brought you this,” Ghost presses the fruit into Soap’s hands,

“Uh, ‘hanks, Ghostie. Ye didnae-”

“An’ this,” Ghost wields a bottle of Lucozade now, and Soap hasn’t a singular clue where in fuck he could have pulled it from. 

An incredulous snerck of laughter jolts free of Soap’s chest. He folds over, bracing his hands on his knees and staring hard at the floor as he tried to suppress his giggles. A glance over at Ghost ruins him, the energy drink was being pointed at him with intent, Ghost’s serious eyes staring Soap down from just above. Gales of semi-hysterical laughter pour free of him and Soap collapses to the floor as his knees give out. Dropping onto his back, he presses the back of his hands to his eyes, careful not to blind himself with the banana he’s still holding. He can feel his garden blooming under the sun Ghost’s brought in with him, running over with ivy, snowdrops, primroses, and wild arum. 

“Where awn god’s green earth,” He giggles out, dropping his hands to look up at Ghost with a humored smile, “Were ye keepin’ tha’?” 

“Need to know info, Johnny,” Ghost rebuffs him, “You don’t have that kind of clearance.” 

More incredulous giggles wrack through the Sergeant and he rocks himself a little on the floor as he tries to rein himself in. Joyous tears leaking from the corners of his squeezed shut eyes. 

“It’s blue flavour,” Ghost advertises, waggling the bottle at him.

“Well iffin it’s blue,” Soap jokes, his voice bouncing with the remnants of his laughing fit. He leans up, taking Ghost’s extended hand to lever back to his feet, then sits himself back onto his cot and accepts the drink that is a truly lurid shade of blue, as promised. 

Soap pats at the open spot beside him and rides out the subsequent tremor when Ghost plunks himself down with no aplomb. 

“‘hanks, Si.” Johnny mumbles as he starts peeling his Ghost allocated banana, keeping the Lucozade pinned securely between his knees, so he wouldn’t lose it somehow. 

“All good, Johnny.” Ghost assures, watching him spend his full concentration on opening the banana with the least amount of stringy bits left behind. The unspoken warmth that Ghost carried in his soul for this man, finally banking from the blaze it’d been stoked into by Johnny’s uncharacteristic morning. 

Whatever Johnny was going though, Ghost was determined to not let him face it alone.

Thank You For Reading!

Yep, Scots call dandelion puffballs 'clocks', apparently.

Here's the flower meanings, I've a book of them that I took these from, if looking them up tell you something different ┐(•_•)┌

Windflowers - Forsaken Plume Thistle - Misanthropy Hairbells - Grief/death Nettles - Cruelty Primrose - Eternal love/I cannot be without you/Obsessive love Ivy - Happy Love/Affection/Fidelity/Marriage Wild Arum - Ardor/Zeal Snowdrop - Consolation/Hope/Hope in sorrow

All of these should grow wild in Scotland or Britain, if my bit of surface level research didn't steer me wrong.

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[namjoonscoffeeshop]

Move-In Day | Drabble

A part of DEEP series

✧ Pairing: Yoongi x reader

✧ Word Count: 2.1k

✧ Song: "From the start" by laufey

✧ Flower: Gladiolus are a romantic flower that symbolize secret love

a/n: First drabble for the duration of the hiatus of DEEP. don't be shy and if you want a scene your curious about please write a ask! I had thought of this a few weeks after writing the first couple chapters but never had a chance to include it. It then was lost in my notes until now. I know I said friday, but here is a chapter early! I added the song I was listening to as I wrote the chapter, not saying to listen to it as you read but....why not?

index | askme!

Taking out the last basket from the trunk of my car, I shut the door. It was nice weather today, there was a subtle wind that helped cope with the heat. Looking up at the apartment complex I couldn't help but feel an excitement and nervousness to what was to come soon. 

running up the stairs I enter the building, the walls were brown as if they were of wood.  paintings which yoongi and me already walked around examining to see if they were real. 

He says they aren't, I tease him and say that he wouldn't know but you can definitely tell that it's a print out. there are multiple small antique looking tables with a vase of flowers in each floor. the tenants has told us that each floor has a different flower. Of course I had to go to each floor and they weren't wrong, our floor has vases full of Gladiolus. Their beautiful delicate red petals and their alluring scent made it all the more better. 

turning the corner I come in view of the elevator "hurry up" yoongi says loudly. smiling I run down the hall into the elevator "are you that excited" he says raising a brow, not able to contain the smile creeping on his lips as he stares down at you. "yes! aren't you? you always said you wanted to leave home"

licking his lips he takes the basket from you, placing it on the box beside his feet "yeah you're right" the doors to the elevator close and he eyes the number panel. you're eyes turn to the panel and you giggle "you waited for I could do it" you tease him, rolling his eyes he reaches over "forget it then" 

"no no i'll do it!" you hold his arm, the reason he waited was because on the panel each floors flower was next to the number. pressing on your floor you hold his hand "we're going to have a lot of fun together" you give him a reassuring smile.  

when you had told your parents that you were moving and attending your dream school they were supportive. but there was a catch, they said it would only happen if yoongi went too. they had heard from his mother that he was thinking of attending as well. and since you had applied to schools close to home they had other options. 

you hated that you doubted yourself to the point of applying to safe schools near home. if you had trusted yourself and just applied to xxx university then it would've never been a problem. but there was a issue..yoongi's father wanted him to immediately start working at their family company. there was a huge argument and my parents were involved, yoongi then announced he got accepted to the same school as and said he was leaving. 

you asked him if he chose this cause your parents had put that condition in letting you move. his reply was simple. He said 'I just need to get away from home, and plus..i'm not ready to part ways from you'  at that moment your head said that you should be happy, butterflies erupt in your stomach but your heart ached at his words, part from you yet. The two of you having to go your separate ways is inevitable. 

The doors to the elevator opened and he carries both the box and basket while you rush down the hall to your door. The two of you having your own apartment but right next to each other was the most exciting thing to you. 

Your mom was inside helping you unpack the boxes "is that the end?" she sighs seeing another box being brought in "yes" you respond "Didn't you make her a donation box as well" yoongi says placing the box down "yes I did, she choose to keep everything" your mom glares at you "I had nothing I wanted to part with!" you defend yourself but they both stared at you in disbelief. 

yoongi leaves to his apartment where your dad was, helping him unpack. Thankfully you guys started early in the morning by 5pm everything was almost done. with the few boxes left of clothes and all but the living room furniture fully built...it was the only furniture your mom and you could handle to to do together. 

"don't worry I'll do the rest of her furniture later" yoongi and your dad place the boxes of pizza on the living room floor. scooting next to you he leans in and whispers "you'd think that maybe just maybe you would've built the table for us to eat" 

"oh shut up, if you want it that bad then you can go build it!" you glare at him which he can't help but mess with your hair as he pushes you slightly. the entire day you felt excited but now that your parents were getting ready to leave you felt uneasy and nauseous. your troubled face was no secret to your mother, pulling you into a tight hug she said words of encouragement to you, your dad talking to yoongi waiting for the chance to hug you too. 

"alright, take care. the two of you, watch over each other" your dad says as you both walk them to the elevator. 

you were sitting on your floor in the living room as you brush your hair after showering. yoongi went to his apartment to do the same. After 20 minutes or so you hear a knock on your front door. jumping on your feet you rush to the door opening, "did you even check to see who it was" he says walking in "why? I knew it'd be you!" you wrap your arms around his waist giggling "weren't you just sad" he unwraps your arms, turning. you hum "I had a moment, what's wrong with it" chuckling he hugs you. 

"yoongi"

"yeah?" 

"did you build your bed?" 

"it was the first thing I built" he laughs 

"thank god, can I sleep over?" he tilts his head, making a noise as if he was thinking. hitting his chest he laughs "yes, lets go then cause i'm tired" not bothering to get anything but your pillow you both walk next door. his apartment had most if not all the furniture done but the apartment was very much crowded with boxes "What were you guys doing? just unboxing?" you shake your head moving a box over so you could walk better "yeah, that way I will only worry about yours instead of having to do it all alone" pouting you stare in disbelief "alone? I'm going to help you!" shaking his head he lifts his palm "stop there, you know damn well why I don't want you to help" 

parting your lips to tell him his comment is insulting you couldn't help but stay silent when you remember how the last time you helped him in one furniture there were more left over screws then there should've been and then he built something wrong due to your horrible instructions reading. "fine" you cross your arms and walk away. entering his room. 

he follows after turning off the lights. his bed was made and the boxes opened had more pillows, grabbing one you jump on the bed and get under the covers. "tomorro-" covering your mouth with his palm he shakes his head " I am tired, I am not going anywhere tomorrow" rolling your eyes you can't help but stare at him as his eyes occasionally close as if to rest. 

your heart fluttered as his hand rested on your arms, his thumb brushing against your skin "sleep y/n" he mutters, you shut your eyes but after a while open them again to look at him. he sighs, eyes opening "can you not sleep?" he says. 

"don't worry, just sleep" you say turning around. you hear him sigh as the weight of his side shifts. you feel the warmth radiating from him against your body as he wraps his arms around your frame pressing your back against his chest. his legs intertwined with yours. he bury's his face in your long dark hair "sleep" he whispers. 

maybe it was the fact that the two of you had move far from home, and you don't know how long it's going to take to get used to living alone, even if he is next door. sleeping "alone" is maybe the most unnatural thing to you. 

"can we sleep together until i'm used to all this" he snorts, laughing into your neck "we can always sleep together we don't need reason..but if you do not shut up and go to sleep right now I will kick you out" you can't help but laugh 

"goodnight yoongi" he hums 

you wake up before him, his arm resting over you as his chest is pressed against your back. you manage to slip away without waking him up, the light entering from the windows made him scrunch his brows as he shifts in bed. you quickly look around grabbing a random folded box and propping it up against the window. I need to find the curtains , you mumble leaving the room as quiet as you could. 

even if he planned for the two of you to stay home and not go out, you felt as if you needed to help him unpack since he would be busy doing your furniture. four hours passed and it was 12 o'clock when he finally got out of bed. he followed the shuffling sounds, entering the separate room as you carefully set up his books on the shelf that he had built the day before. leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed he clears his throat to catch your attention but fails to notice you had headphones on. 

he doesn't move from place, watching you open another box and pulling out the books as you carefully set them on the shelfs. it wasn't until you got to your second box since he had entered that you turn, surprised you couldn't help but scream as you felt startled by him. he laughs at your wide eyes. "yoongi!" he apologizes, walking up to you he glances in the box you were emptying "it's your music books...I left you instruments alone..not wanting to break anything" he looks to his left seeing his piano leaning against the wall as he had left it and his two guitar cases on the ground "thanks" he says, opening his guitar case he points at the devices on the wall "do you know what that's for?" 

"a tv?" you say, you didn't know what it was for, should you mention you almost bust your head open with one as you stood up and failed to notice something was there. 

he places the guitar on the wall stands, standing back as he ensures its safe "ta-da" he says with a childlike smile on his face "I almost busted my head open with that" you purse your lips, the ends curved up. "what?" 

"I bend down to pick up a box and when I got up, almost hit my head" you laugh, now it was funny, but he wasn't laughing "should I remove them?" he mutters

"what? No! now i'll know...I was just careless" his face showed concern, sighing you take out more books from the box "I just won't come in here yeah? you always wanted to mount your guitars on the wall back home. don't take it down" 

"you can come in here...just be careful" he watches you nod, helping you place the rest of the books onto the shelfs. after joining you, it wasn't long before you both finished the room "I finished the living room and kitchen earlier all that's left is your room. do you want me to do it?" you ask, shaking his head he waves his hand as if dismissing the idea "I'll do that, why don't we get something to eat and then head to your place and start there" you both leave the apartment to get something. 

"i'll carry it, you just worry about opening the door" you open your purse and dig into it, searching for your keys "where are they" you mumble. 

sighing his eyes narrowed   "y/n please please pleasee tell me you didn't lose your keys again" you give him a sheepish smile "I think..I left them inside"   

"let's check my apartment" 

after a long search the two of you sit on the sofa defeated. "Sorry.." you mumble, his elbows propped on his knees as he rubbed his temple. you couldn't make a joke to lighten up the mood, feeling as if he was really mad at you. 

he looks up at you and chuckles "what am I going to do with you" 

and this is the story behind why yoongi has a copy of your key. 

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[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

One does not joke about the Bodleian (BR) Pt. I - A modern Gwynriel One-Shot

In this first part of my next little mini-series, Gwyn and Az face each other as academic rivals in a university setting. I hope you like it :)

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none

Gwyneth Berdara never thought she’d say this, but if she has another coffee, her brain will explode with a 87% probability.

She knew she should have consumed her first cup exactly 90 minutes after waking up, like her professor and podcast-god Dr. Huberman told her to, but something about her roommates blaring the radio at six in the morning had convinced her otherwise. The second cup right after on her way to class hasn’t helped, and the third in-between lectures had her hands shaking and her eyes twitching. Then, the heavy lunch that followed contributed plenty to her tiredness… which left her nervous system frantically switching between wired and close to death.

“Gwyn, some space please.”, a slightly annoyed voice from beside her commanded, pushing a stray note back into her periphery. Gwyn grabbed the piece and stuck it to whatever folder she held in her hand – genomics – before returning the heavy study material to her backpack.

“Sorry, Em, but I can’t seem to find the assignment.”, she murmured, leafing through the stacks of paper in front of her and resolutely refusing to adhere to her friend’s command. The prestigious and extremely well-funded university of Oxford liked their students to hand in printed assignments in addition to electronic ones. Apparently, they liked to pretend they were still in their founding century.

Emerie leaned into her field of view completely which left Gwyn to examine her friend’s scalp instead of her notes. “I’ve literally just seen the thing.”

“Aha!”, a triumphant Emerie sat back up, the missing assignment held up in victory. “Now you can collect yourself another 95% and the cry about the five missing-“

Emerie was rudely interrupted, Gwyn’s assignment ripped straight out of her hands. “Jack!”

With a grin that showed more teeth than friendly banter, Jack Irwin leaned back in his chair behind them, the pieces of paper completely out of reach for both women.

“I will be holding these hostage until you finally set a date to go out with me like you promised.”, his deep and honeyed voice explained, eyes boring into Gwyn’s bright teal ones like that might elicit a nice response. Beside her, Emerie sighed out a long breath, anticipating the everlasting and borderline painful conversation that was about to start.

Just like it did every week around this time.

“Jack, keeping me from my assignment isn’t going to get you any points in my book.”, Gwyn explained to him slowly, reaching out her hands for him to hand it over. If he behaved like a toddler, she’d treat him like one.

Jack pretended to think about that for a second, his bland face scrunched in concentration. “Nope.” The popped ‘p’ grated on Gwyn’s nerves more severely than his smug expression. Why did he have to make every exchange of words so damn difficult? She felt a headache starting between her brows and it wasn’t even two in the afternoon.

“I give you exactly five seconds before you’ll see me empty out my water bottle over your MacBook”, the redhead levelled him a glare, trying to convey the severity of this situation by staring a hole through his useless head. Today really wasn’t the day to test her.

Jack stopped balancing on his chair, leaning over his desk and coming really too-damn-close into her personal space. “It’ll be all worth it if I end up taking you out this Friday.”

“Let it go!”, she snapped, lunging over the table separating them and nearly ripping her assignment in two as she snatched it back, “It won’t happen, no matter how hard you try to guilt-trip or blackmail me.”

She felt more than she saw the atmosphere between them change. Jack’s previously playful and cocky air darkened. His mouth was just about to form a reply when he was thankfully interrupted.

“Good afternoon, class.”

Gwyn turned around with a relieved sigh, shooting an apologetic look at her now crumpled papers. I’m so sorry you were tainted by unworthy hands. For a second, she could have sworn the ink winked at her – that’s when she decided to quit coffee for good.

Her professor had made his way to the front of the small lecture hall, preparing his lesson while students started to file towards him. Emerie and Gwyn soon joined them, checking in on the attendance list, turning in the assignment and dutifully ignoring the dirty looks Jack shot their way. But as Gwyn finished her weekly signature, her gaze snagged on something peculiar.

You see, the lecture and course were so intimate that it was possible to know every student by name. After all, not many were suicidal enough to enroll in Oxford’s biology M.A. program. Therefore, when another student joined the course, people usually noticed immediately. And as Gwyn stared at the table containing their names, her brows drew together in confusion.

Definitely too much coffee.

She snorted to herself, finding her place and slumping back into it next to Emerie.

“I seriously need to watch the caffein.”, she started, leaning over to her friend and lowering her voice, “Can you believe I read one of the names on the attendance list as ‘Azriel’?”

She snickered, not noticing how Emerie had to bite down on a broad smile. “I mean, what kind of person is named like that? An angel? A fucking warrior prince from ancient times that turns into a dragon every full moon?”

In her head, it was kind of funny. And Gwyn would be lying if she didn’t immediately think of her usual, private reading material and all the kinds of things someone named ‘Azriel’ might be up to.

Emerie shrugged, getting her notes and laptop ready for class. “You probably read it wrong. I bet his name is Andy or something.”

Gwyn made a noncommittal noise while copying Em as their professor looked around the room expectantly.

“Has anybody seen a Mr. Hawthorne?”, he called into the void of sleep-deprived students. Some people shook their heads while others just stared back blankly, waiting for him to get on with it and not caring in the slightest for whatever happened with the guy. As Gwyn didn’t know an answer to the professor’s question, she made a mental list of names that ‘Hawthorne’ went with.

Andy Hawthorne sounded weird, the family name too overpowering. Andrew Hawthorne might have a nice ring to it, but then it also gave off a pretentious vibe. Aiden, Alexander – it definitely wasn’t Alexander – maybe Austin? Austin Hawthorne?

The door swung open, interrupting the opening words of the professor as well as Gwyn’s encyclopedia of names. And in the doorway, nearly filling out the whole damn thing, stood the most beautiful man Gwyn did ever see.

“Ah”, the professor noticed him as well, hurrying over to the attendance list as roughly thirty-five pairs of eyes switched their attention on the newcomer, “Azriel Hawthorne, biology M.A.?”

No. Freaking. Way.

The stranger nodded, quickly signing the form and thanking the professor quietly before his gaze fell onto the rest of the class in search for a seat. And Gwyn could have sworn a faint sigh left every female in the room collectively.

His face was carved from the gods. Angular, sharp, symmetrical. Full eyebrows framing the most glowing brown eyes a human ever saw. Dark strands of hair falling onto his forehead while the sides and back were shaven neatly. Muscles – Gwyn had to swallow to save her dry throat from suffering irreparable damage – and more muscles that bunched over his tight black shirt.

And from her place way too high up in the stands, Gwyn had to witness how her classmates flung themselves out of the way to offer him more seats than he could ever place his butt on, even if he switched every time they had the lecture until the end of the semester.

Azriel chose a seat in the second row, nodding his thanks to the blushing blonde who’d nearly sacrificed her friend’s well-being while forcing her to scooch over.

And when he moved to pull out his laptop, Gwyn’s idealist image of a man was complete. He had tattoos covering his whole arms, their inky swirls peeking out from underneath the sleeve.

“You haven’t blinked in like a full minute. It’s not healthy.”, Emerie whispered from beside her, amusement shining from her face as she seemed to be the only person with a uterus to not be too phased by his existence. And let’s face it, even some of the guys shot him more than curious glances.

Yet, all Gwyn could do was stare like a total creep, ignoring for the first time since starting university what the professor was lecturing about.

Emerie was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to ramble some kind of justification to conceal her embarrassment. It didn’t come. Gwyn’s brain had suffered a short circuit.

Put simply, the woman was too stunned to speak.

“Oh, Lord save us all.”, Emerie muttered before dutifully turning her attention to the professor. And as her friend concentrated in order to learn about cell biology and signaling, Gwyn was quickly learning that she had a type.

…

“So, what did he do to have all your panties in his power within one lecture?”, Nesta asked Emerie and Gwyn as they met in the cafeteria that evening, exchanging the latest gossip over their pasta. And no other topic was ever more news-worthy than the arrival of Mr. Azriel Hawthorne. In fact, Gwyn was sure it was discussed thoroughly at every single table containing at least one biology student.

“Tell her Gwyn,” Emerie was already laughing beside her, drawing way too much malicious joy from this situation.

Gwyn faced her spaghetti. “Well, he kind of… just walked in, took his seat, then left.”

Nesta’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “That’s it? Did he have some magical pheromone perfume? No guy is just that attractive.”

“Who is attractive?”, a booming voice saved Gwyn from further scrutiny. Cass, Nesta’s boyfriends and physiology student, slumped into the seat next to her and delivered a smacking kiss to her cheek. “Talking about me again Nes? You’ll make them jealous!”

Nesta observed him for a moment, her usually harsh eyes turning softer. “Actually, we were discussing the new Adonis gracing Gwyn’s and Emerie’s class. What was is name again?”

But before Gwyn could respond, Cassian interrupted the women with a long-suffering expression. “Please, not you too!”

The girls exchanged a look before turning their full attention on Cass.

“How is every single woman in this whole college obsessed with the guy? He has been here for half a day. Half a day! And I overheard some girls in all of my classes talking about strategies to get him to go out with them.”, he scoffed, angrily assaulting his bread roll with his teeth. “I meam – wats fo cool abowt him?”

Nesta quickly shushed him before he could grace the women with a full view of corroded bread.

“Stop being so butt-hurt. You’re still our number one guy.”, Emerie reached out to pat his hand while he shot her puppy-eyes that clearly spoke of how much he needed to hear that. But for all the love she felt towards Cassian, Gwyn found herself hesitant to agree.

And it was so stupid. She didn’t even know him, only stared at the back of his head for the better part of an hour. Mind you, it was a very nicely shampooed head. But for all she knew, he could be a complete jerk, smelly, aggressive, or even worse – negligent in his studies.

He hadn’t seemed like it in class though, typing away on his computer, eyes never straying from the board. And if that wasn’t the hottest thing about him, Gwyn didn’t know what to think anymore.

With a tad bit of overexcitement, Roslin fell onto the chair beside Gwyn, slamming her tray of food so forcefully it rattled the whole hall. “I’ve got news everyone!”

“Finally Rosi, feed me some fucking gossip that isn’t to do with the biology bloke.”, Cassian leaned towards her, happy now that the center of attention shifted.

Or not.

“Azriel Hawthorne has a girlfriend!”, Roslin exclaimed with wide eyes, causing Cass to fall back on his chair dramatically while Nesta broke out in laughter. But Gwyn wasn’t laughing. Decidedly.

“How do you know?”, she asked, voice lowering into a whisper.

“Well, you know Amy from biochem?”

Gwyn nodded, the faint image of a short haired, petite girl forming in her mind.

“Apparently, she was paired with him for their practicals earlier today. And since she was the first girl to tie him down into a conversation, she wanted to make her move quickly. Asked him out, but he politely declined with that explanation. I just met her in the hallway. She’s mortified.”, Roslin rattled down the story with the speed and intensity of a news-moderator.

And with that information, Gwyn’s excitement exited her body in a big swoop, leaving her mentally and physically exhausted. Which was ridiculous – never in a million years did she imagine herself going up to him, or even talking to him, really. But the daydream was nice while it lasted.

“Amy said he was super nice, though”, Roslin continued while now focusing her attention on her food as well, having delivered the most interesting piece of news, “He pulled out the chair for her. And went to clean her pipette and scales without her asking. Not much of a talker, but very focused on his studies.”

Something shriveled up and died inside Gwyn, and it might have been her hope for a guy who encompassed exactly these qualities. Because how likely was she going to find two of those in a lifetime?

Gwyn stabbed into her pasta with new rigor, willing to bury her emotions with carbs.

And just as she stuffed her face full with them, angrily chomping with sauce getting caught in the corners of her mouth, she heard his voice again.

Right behind her.

Saying her name.

“Gwyneth Berdara?”, the deep and velvety soft voice of Adonis-Azriel Hawthorne filled her ears and before she could just stop herself to think for a second, she already rotated in her chair to stare up at him, face still full of pasta.

“Mhough?”, she choked out, nearly killing herself in her eagerness to engage in a conversation with him. In hindsight, she kind of wished that a piece of pasta went into her respiratory tracks then and there.

Azriel’s gaze flickered from her reddening face to a piece of paper he held clutched in his hand while Gwyn fought the hard battle of chewing as fast as she ever chewed in her life.

“I realize it’s a bad time and I’m sorry to interrupt. But Professor Huberman gave me your name in the hopes you could catch me up on the lecture so far.”, he explained, perfectly reasonable and calmly while the woman in question lived through a serious fight-or-flight response.

She swallowed at last, swiping her hands over her mouth in the hopes to save some of her appearance. But really, what was there to save after a whole day of lectures and seminars?

“That’s absolutely fine.”, Gwyn tried a small smile, praying to the pasta-gods that her teeth were clean, “We can meet up tomorrow after class. I’m free after 4.30 pm.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could just send me your notes via email. I only transferred, so I should know most of the stuff.”, he replied evenly, handing her the piece of paper that held his email address.

So, that went well.

“Oh, sure. That’s fine with me too. Super.”

Super? Who said super?

“Great. See you around then.”, and with a friendly smile directed at everyone at the table, Azriel strode away.

Gwyn’s eyes shut closed for a moment, her head falling into her neck. What was that conversation and how did she manage to fuck it up so completely?

She turned around towards the table again where Emerie already shot her an apologetic look. “Well, if he has a girlfriend anyways, you don’t have to worry about your prospects with him.”

 Gwyn just nodded in a trance. Azriel did in fact smell really good. And he looked even better up close. And he already knew most of the lecture contents for gods sake!

Gwyn was left to ponder her life’s choices, starting with her carb obsession and ending with selecting biology as a major. But she wasn’t the only person shook to her core at the table.

Cassian stared after Azriel, his eyes boring into the back of his head before he blurted out, “Is his bicep bigger than mine?”

…

After some well needed time of consideration, Gwyn decided that she in fact does not have a crush on Azriel Hawthorne.

The compiled list of arguments against his person was long and ever-growing: it started with him having a girlfriend and ended with his stupid dragon-lord name.

The whole thing was a lie, of course. A gentle sort of gaslighting… only against her own conscious. Every day after their encounter in the lecture and cafeteria afterwards Gwyn scolded herself fiercely whenever she daydreamed about him. Imagining him being mean to his girlfriend, kicking a puppy, ripping out pages of a book…it didn’t make him any less attractive objectively, but it helped.

And as she sat her stressed ass down in her lecture seat exactly a week later, she was all but convinced that Azriel Hawthorne was a conniving, dastardly, and arrogant prick who was probably a fuckboy and lived off his daddy’a trust fund. And that he was stupid.

Honestly, it gave her enough peace of mind that she didn’t turn into a puddle beneath the table when he walked in (punctual) while nearly every other girl in this class did.

“Oh, he looks handsome today, doesn’t he Gwynnie?”, Emerie whispered her venom next to her, wiggling her eyebrows in her direction.

“He looks fine.”, Gwyn replied evenly, smiling at Emerie who narrowed her eyes as the unexpected answer, “Actually, his t-shirt looks about two sizes too small. He probably doesn’t know how to do his own washing.”

Or it was the fact that his muscles greatly outnumbered those of all other guys in this class combined.

Her friend didn’t let her off the hook, though. “Did he do something? Last week around this time I had to slip tissue paper on your laptop to keep it from being drooled on.”

But Gwyn just scoffed, mentally scolding herself for her weak moment. She blamed the caffein anyways. “Nope. Never heard from him after I sent over my notes.”

And maybe that was the part that stung, too. Her lecture notes were first class, only second to the ones her professor had himself. Why Mr. I’m-so-bulky-Hawthorne hadn’t been in a hurry to thank her for that, she couldn’t fathom. But if he has the nerve to do better in the exam through using her notes, she’d throw hands.

Emerie made an unimpressed face. “What, not even a thank you?”

“Silence.”

Gwyn made herself busy pulling out her laptop and selecting the right script. Maybe the message didn’t get through – no, it did. He was just an asshole.

And only five minutes until the lecture began, said asshole lifted himself out of his seat and made his way towards Gwyn.

“He’s coming, he’s coming.”, Emerie murmured, repeatedly tapping Gwyn’s thighs as if she hadn’t noticed a six foot something god coming her way.

But it didn’t matter, because he didn’t like him.

“Hey Gwyn.”, Azriel greeted her quietly with a little nod towards Em. He crouched down in front of her table, stabilizing himself with his tattooed arm. Which Gwyn was not looking at.

“Hi.”, she replied, pretending to be busy writing down a note in her diary. Because she absolutely refused to give into his pull.

Azriel observed her for a moment, his eyes tracing her face and hair, before speaking again. “I wanted to come over to thank you personally for your notes.”

Oh.

Gwyn looked up, her pencil suspended above paper, and couldn’t help the small smile that slipped past her lips. “You’re welcome. If you have any questions about them, feel free to ask.”

Adonis smiled back at her, nodding more to himself that to her. “Actually, there was one diagram you drew in your microbiology section that made me pause.”

Gwyn leaned forward, now more than ready to leave all her negative feelings and even her crush for him aside in favor of talking about her favorite topic.

But then he had the nerve to say, “I’m sure it was just a slight oversight on your part, but the order wasn’t right. You might want to correct that before you memorize it wrongly.”

And suddenly, with the intensity of a raging tsunami, all of the previously fake reasons why she didn’t like him became very real.

“I highly doubt that.”, she replied through a clenched jaw, “I only copy the diagrams from the board. They can’t be wrong.”

Azriel smiled at her still, “As I’ve said, it was probably just a blunder. The rest of your notes are okay.”

Okay?

Emerie was the only thing anchoring her to reality as she burst out into a coughing fit next to Gwyn, whose undiluted rage filling every inch of her veins.

“Well, I’m glad I could help.”, all of her strength went into those word. And that she didn’t spew fire with them. Right at his condescending face.

“I owe you a coffee, or whatever you like to drink. Maybe we can do that sometime soon?”, he asked, straightening himself up to his full height again. Gwyn added another con to her list: can’t read the room.

“Sure, sometime.”, she smiled a tight-lipped smile at him as he turned, saved again by the arrival of her professor. Or rather, the professor has unwittingly saved Hawthorne’s ass. An ass which her eyes shot daggers at as she watched him go down the aisle to his seat once more.

Beside her, Emerie tried to school her face into neutrality, forcing the corners of her mouth into balance when Gwyn knew they desperately wanted to jump up.

“Well, at least he’s attentive.” She said evenly, looking her best friend up and down and trying to assess the damage done.

“Attentive.”, Gwyn repeated, practically spewing fire, “arrogant, big-headed, patronizing.”

Emerie nodded, still fighting a losing battle with the corners of her mouth.

Gwyn went on while her professor called up the first slide of his presentation. “Aloof, domineering, tactless.”

“Gwyn Berdara: the pocket-sized Oxford English Dictionary.”, Emerie murmured, pulling up her own notes on her iPad. But Gwyn might as well had earplugs stuffed into her skull. She didn’t hear a word as Dr. Huberman started his lecture, nor did her eyes focus on any of the bullet points.

“Vaid, rude, Azriel.”

[starssaroundmyscarssblog]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 (part two)

pairing: teen!noel gallagher x fem!oc

summary: noel's going nowhere, and fern's going everywhere

word count: 3.50k

warnings: mentions of drugs, smoking, swearing (possible ooc noel but i wanted to write a soft lil' teen fic 😩)

PART ONE IS HERE

the next morning, fern pushed her face deeper into the pillows that surrounded her head as her alarm clock bleeped out the time persistently. noel's arm wrapped around her waist tightened to pull her back at the rustling of the covers as she moved to get up. "few more minutes," he grumbled, screwing up his face as she pulled away sharply to draw back the curtains.

"can't." she replied, trying to pull him up by the shoulder in order to make her bed, "i've got that test today, remember." fern smiled at his grouchiness, screwing himself up into a ball before opening his eyes properly and adjusting to the harsh light. he watched her move around the room, removing various pieces of her school uniform from wardrobes and drawers to take with her into the bathroom.

she disappeared from the bedroom through the door, he could hear her greet felix patrolling the corridor before the shower started to run and the boiler started to hum. he sat on the edge of her bed, ran his hands through his hair and started glumly out of the window. 'signing on again, noel'. the sound of fern swearing loudly as the water ran cold bleeding through the wall prompted him to put his side of the bed tidy, lay his clothes out in some semblance of preparation.

fern reappeared and pushed her bedroom door shut with her foot. she was buttoning up her shirt close to her chin, holding a slice of toast in between her teeth and balancing two cups of tea on a small tray. "went downstairs to get some fuel, mum's made breakfast if you want some- oh! yours is on the left." she was talking about his tea, pointing to it before dropping into her desk chair.

her head was bent over the flashcards she'd tossed from her bed to the desk at some point during the night, and fern could sense noel about to speak as he pulled his top over his head. "don't even say anything." he looked at her, hair clipped up and finger pointing at him over her shoulder. "wasn't goin' to."

"you were thinking about it, though." she flicked through a few, mumbled the answers under her breath before discarding them into a desk drawer and slamming it shut. "steady on, darl', what'd it ever do to you?"

they moved about the room in silence after he returned from the shower, gathering their belongings and watching the minutes tick down before they had to split their separate ways. fern sat cross legged on the floor infront of her mirror and pushed eyeliner into her waterline as noel fussed with his hair, growing more frustrated. he looked at his watch, "ten to eight, should probably start thinking about gettin' a shift on."

"since when were you ever fussed about being on time for things? the rest of the world is five minutes ahead of you."

fern picked up her bag stuffed between the gap of her bedside table and wall, shrugging her blazer over her shoulders and tightening her maroon and blue tie around her collar. noel patted down the pockets of his jacket to check for his wallet, nodded when he'd located it, and picked up felix to remove him from the room as they walked down the stairs.

their relationship was very domestic, not exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d asked fern out but he was perfectly content. they sunk into routine relatively quickly. he would always visit her on thursday evenings and she would stay for fish and chips at his every friday. he’d met her parents and she’d met his mam, once fern had even invited him to be her plus one to her cousin’s wedding.

he hated that he loved being part of it all, parents who loved their daughter that much that they let her date the boy from the council estate in the next town so far over some people thought it was in a different county. he watched her lean over the table in the kitchen to give her dad a kiss on his cheek and briefly stopped to chat to her mum about the latest guest on bbc breakfast news before leaving.

audrey gave him a pat on the shoulder and a fond smile, mr gibson waved at him from over his newspaper and wished him a good day at collage. he liked fern's parents so much he felt guilty about lying to them regarding his crippling chances for a longterm education. filled up on slices of toast he'd managed to scarf down before fern frogmarched him out of the door, down the drive and into her car, noel caught a stray lock of hair out of place on his head in the reflection of the mirror just in time.

fern always let him chose the music, readily supplied with cassettes and mix tapes in the glove box of her car so he could have his pick. unfortunately, as he was right in the middle of miming a guitar riff cutting through the middle of the current song, fern poked him in the leg as she stopped at a red traffic light marking the end of her village. "what?"

"do you mind just going through those questions again? the ones i couldn't get right last night?" god, give him strength, did this woman ever stop? knowing fern, she'd stuffed them into the pocket of his jacket before they left the house so he couldn't give the same excuse he always did - they were in her bag, which he couldn't reach around into the back of the car far enough to get them. he sighed as he felt the outline of the cards next to his wallet.

"i thought we'd done them all? you were fine, we don't need to do this; you know what you're like, it'll only stress you out more."

"no, it won't. go on, ask me."

"you're like a fuckin' primed bomb! one wrong move and we'd all be fucked." he mimed an explosion with his hands. at fern's side eye and advancing finger towards the eject button for the tape, he conceded. "fine. seriously though, don' know why we need to do it again. you're fuckin' brilliant at these."

her finger moved away from the button as the light turned amber then green. fern pulled onto the dual carriage way, checking her mirrors before changing lanes and reeling off answers to the questions noel was asking her. he went through the cards three times without being asked, as it was something she’d always liked to do.

“are you going home this morning?”

“nah, i’ll come with you and then just mill about for a bit. there’s a dole office in town, should probably get tha’ sorted out sooner rather than later.”

fern smiled sadly, reversing into her usual space in the student car park. “i’m sorry. if there was something i could do i would do it.”

“i know ya would, darl’, but we always knew it was gonna fuckin’ happen.”

she huffed and drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. "i know." there were few cars around them, and her friends who caught the bus to school hadn't yet appeared. fern and noel got out of the car, slammed the doors shut and listened for the beep to tell them it was locked when fern turned the keys in the door. as she was checking she had everything in her bag - drink, apple, textbooks, extra paper - noel's hands slid around her waist and spun her around to face him.

she leaned against her car, smiling at him with a glint in her eye. "i've still got a few minutes until eloise gets here." he grinned cheekily and leaned down, kissing her softly before pulling away. fern rested her elbows on the car roof, wrapping her hands behind his neck to pull him back down to her. noel left her breathless every time, but unfortunately the slow descent of his lips to her jaw and later to her neck was cut short at a low whistle from somewhere behind him.

fern pulled away and angled her head over his shoulder to see eloise standing in a small group of their friends, who'd just got off the bus trundling down the road and away from the gates, giggling and watching the pair of them. noel went to nip at her lips again but was met with her cheek instead. "come on. i'd better get going." they slowly started to walk away from the car, parting ways at the front steps of the school where fern's friends had migrated to.

"i'll see you later, yeah? i only have a half day today, so we could go to sifters before we go back to your house?" she asked, tucking her hands into the pockets of her blazer. noel reached out and straightened her tie which he'd knocked askew. "it's still okay for me to come round later, isn't it?"

"yeah. fuck, sorry." he rubbed a hand over his cheek and squinted. "all cool. r'liam's bringin' over some of his mates too i think."

"that's nice."

"no, it's not. they're all cunts." she smacked his arm.

"don't call them that. they're only twelve."

fern stood on her tiptoes to push a kiss against the corner of his mouth delicately. "bye." she whispered close to his ear before turning to join her friends, twisting around to wave at him as he walked out of the school grounds towards the grave yard of the local church as it was a shortcut to the high street.

the bell trilled loudly and students started to flood into the building, bags jolting people sideways and teachers standing in the doorways of classrooms ushering the crowds along to their form rooms. fern sat along the back row of her form room, eloise and chesc on either side. chesc was scribbling something down on a past physics exam rapidly (fern suspected this was her homework, as she often raced against the clock to complete it) while eloise was concentrating hard on something.

"say fernie, what's that on your neck?"

instantly, fern shrank into her blazer as the people infront of her twisted round in their seats at the statement. she inwardly cringed and glared at eloise. "nothing." mercifully, their form tutor had walked into the room at that moment and began to take the register, drawing the attention on fern away from the rest of the class. when the bell rang, she grabbed eloise by her blazer and shoved her into the girls loo, chesc following closely. "how many times have i told you not to bring things like that up?"

for once, she actually looked guilty. "sorry," eloise mumbled, "just sort of slipped out."

"you know she doesn't like it when you draw attention to it." chesc pointed out, checking the time on her watch woefully. "but we can argue about this on the way to english else we're going to be late." she pulled at the pearls around her neck and leant on the door to the corridor, swinging it open. fern stalked away, eloise hot on her tails. "i'm sorry, alright. how many times do you want me to say it?"

"more than you have done, because you shouldn't have said it in the first place." she opened the door to their english classroom. thankfully, there was a seating plan and fern was on the other side of the room to eloise. she sat next to chesc, finishing off her physics homework behind her copy of 'the great gatsby'. chesc tapped the end of her pen against the desk and saw fern looking slightly down in her attitude but thought nothing of it.

fern and eloise were always having petty arguments and more often than not made up after an hour. if past experience was anything to go by, there was only half an hour left of their stalemate. and sure enough when the bell rang to signify the end of the lesson, the three of them were walking out with arms linked and laughing at each other before parting ways. english was the only lesson they had together, chesc dragging herself down towards the science block while fern and eloise split in the humanities department.

geography for eloise, history test for fern.

she got a dirty look from jessica as she sat down at her desk, drumming her nails against the test paper impatiently as she waited for mrs hillditch to tell them to begin. she'd revised. noel had tested her. she was ready, jessica didn't know anything different as she glanced around the room smugly. fern could get through this, she thought as she flipped it over to answer the first question and put pen to paper.

the nib of her pen flew across the page, handwriting turning flat as she sped up while time ticked down. eventually mrs hillditch called time and let them leave to go to break. fern met up with eloise who was waiting for her to get chesc from the canteen. break time passed and with it came looks from people who'd seen the hickey on her neck. her relationship with noel wasn't exactly a secret from the student-body of the sixth-form - how could it be when he waited for her by the gates and eloise shouted it to anyone who asked?

the rest of the day passed by quickly and soon enough lunchtime came rolling round, which meant fern could sign out early and leave to meet noel. she slung her bag onto the backseat of her car and drove out of the carpark, trundling along the roads into the centre of town. she'd seen him walk into a corner shop and decided to wait outside for him once she'd paid for a ticket. fern was sitting on the short wall and a low whistle was directed her way from a group of boys not much older than noel. "alrigh', love?"

she ignored them.

"could fit this little posh cunt in my pocket!" one of them laughed once they caught sight of the crest on her navy blazer. "come and 'ave a dance with me later love, if daddy'd let ye out past bedtime."

"oi! she's with me, now piss off before i fuckin' 'ave ya!" she heard noel shout as he approached her, cigarette dangling from where he'd clamped it between his teeth. he put his arm around her shoulder and directed the pair of them away towards sifter's record shop further down the high street.

they walked into the record shop and greeted mr sifter behind the till on a creaky chair, flicking through the crates of records and occasionally stopping to show the other something they'd found. fern and noel could spend hours in the shop without talking, just enjoying the company of each other while the needle was dropped on a spinning record a few times every hour. darkness had began to blanket the city by the time they left, fern's purse lighter than when she'd walked in. noel got into the passenger seat of her car while fern kicked the engine into gear and drove out of the car park.

"how'd the test go?" he asked eventually, as the streets got darker and the houses grew smaller.

"alright actually," she hummed, "i think i'll have done alright when we get them back. did you sign on again today?"

he hummed. "dad was there too. tried to get me to work with him, told 'im where he could stick it." they'd pulled up to the small council house as the digital clock on the dashboard ticked over to four o'clock. "c'mon. r'kid won't be back yet, might as well make good use of the time."

they were on each other as soon as noel had opened the door of the bedroom he shared with his brother. fern walked him backwards and pushed him to sit on his bed, sliding herself onto his lap as her legs wrapped around his waist. her hands wandered up and down his back, through his hair, pulled at his shirt to tug it off his wiry body. noel pulled himself away from where his chest was pushed against hers to start unbuttoning her shirt, moving it down her shoulders and spinning the pair of them round so she was lying on her back.

fern kicked off her shoes and held him close to her, smiling and moaning breathily into his ear as his lips clamped to her neck and his hands slid over the cups of her bra and worked down to her stomach. fern was oblivious to the bedroom door opening and the gaining in her and noel's company, until liam's high-pitched scream ripped through the room and he pushed his friends out of the room by the back of their heads.

"mam!" he wailed as he clattered down the stairs. noel grumbled and snatched his shirt up from where it had been abandoned on the floor. he pulled it over his head and handed fern her clothes. she left the top button undone and stuffed her tie into her school bag. they shuffled downstairs and hovered in the doorway of the kitchen as liam begged peggy for a bottle of bleach.

his friends, mitch and danny, were gawking up at her with flushed faces. noel reached around to clip them both on the ear and rounded his attention to liam. "stop makin' such a fuss, we weren't doin' nothing."

"bollocks you were!" he yelled, stilling only when fern placed a gente hand on his shoulder. liam liked her, don't get him wrong, there was just something about her that unnerved him. it could have been her different family background, but it was more likely that she actually chose to spend time with his cunt of a brother. "what were you going to do, liam? noel and i were going to go out and pick up dinner so you'll have a while."

and she was nice. too nice, if you asked him. "we were gonna play cards, but now we 'ave to burn our eyes out with mam's bleach." mitch laughed behind his sleeve. liam glared at him.

fern extracted her car keys from her bag left by the bottom of the stairs after bringing it down with her. peggy rifled through her purse and handed noel twenty quid for the fish and chips, along with their small order list. three mini fishes, two portions of scampi, six chicken nuggets for liam, three large portions of chips and a pot of curry sauce for fern.

liam began to complain again, "i want to go this week! noel goes all the time!" but floundered under peggy's gaze as she kissed noel on the cheek and told him to take his coat because it was getting colder outside. "your friends aren't here to sit around with your brother! you're staying and you'll be fine with it, or ye can wash up afterwards."

fern laughed noel out of the door and back into the car as danny extracted a pack of cards from the pocket of his trousers to liam's dismay. noel lit a cigarette as he sat in the car, window down slightly to let the smoke out at fern pulled out of the council estate and back into town. "chances of it being busy?"

"fuckin' astronomical. we'll be lucky to get in and out in half an hour." she parked on the side of the road, and the harsh glow of light flooding out of the front window of the fish and chip shop hit them right in the face, as did the smell of fat and a large queue of people.

they worked in a usual motion: join the end of the queue, shuffle forwards every few minutes, check watch, mumble something in the other's ear, read off order to the guy at the till, move to the side, look at watch again, greet someone they knew who'd walked in through the door, look hopeful at an order, whisper something again, step forwards to get the food, pay, and leave.

forty five minutes. they were back in the car by half five, back at noel's house for quarter to and sat down squashed all together at the table by six.

it was all very domestic, and noel felt his usually cold heart warm as he looked at fern joke with liam while holding a conversation with his mam at the same time. the phone rang at seven, it always did, audrey asking fern if she was staying over. "yeah, if that's alright with you and dad?" it was. he liked her parents, and they liked him. domestic. going places from hale, but staying in burnage at the same time.

they would make it work. fern had always tried, so noel thought he'd give it a punt too.

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🎸

[simshousewindsor]

THE PRESS AND THE RULES

[Bukharat Golf Course, Dacana]

Cmd Eldridge: Hello?

[??]:"I have been notified by your wife's attorney that she plans to begin legal separation proceedings."

Cmd Eldridge: I thought you said it would all settle down?

[??]:"When do you return to Windenburg?"

Cmd Eldridge: Four more days.

Prince Rainier: What were you thinking? No letters to anyone. You know the rules. Those lunch club boys are not discreet.

Cmd Eldridge: Somehow the letter got back to Erica. She wrote to the palace and gave notice of her intentions to seek divorce.

Prince Rainier: This is not good, Jason. That means it got back to you-know-who.

Cmd Eldridge: We have to assume so.

Prince Rainier: Which is why the palace approved our stay in Dacana another four days. They want us away until they decide our fate.

- - - - - THE NEXT DAY - - - - -

[Buckingsim Palace]

Queen Katherine: (shaking hands) Again, enjoy your retirement, Justice Dathren. Your wisdom will truly be missed on the Supreme Court.

Lord Charles: Thank you, Your Majesty.

Martin: Your Majesty, the Simy Express is running a story tomorrow with the headline "Prince Consort's Best Friend And Wife Have Split." The Windenburg Times' top story is scheduled to be "Wife of Prince Consort's Private Secretary Seeks Divorce."

Queen Katherine: What can we do?

Martin: Elisha is speaking to the press in the Press Briefing Room in one hour. Our contact at SNN said they're willing to assist the palace in any way.

Queen Katherine: What is Elisha planning to say?

Lorenzo: That we are aware of the fact that Lieutenant Commander Eldridge is His Royal Highnesses's private secretary, he's a close friend, and that we are aware of the letter.

Queen Katherine: Any update on the Queen Dowager?

Martin: No, Your Majesty. The Duke of Kent has been by her side all morning.

- - - - - THE NEXT DAY - - - - -

[Fairsim Chateau Hotel, Dacana]

(knock on door)

Prince Rainier: Come in.

Cmd Eldridge: Sir. Do you have a moment?

Prince Rainier: (nods)

Cmd Eldridge: My lawyer in Easton emailed saying that although the press coverage is bad, it should quiet down in a day or two.

Prince Rainier: We both know that's wishful thinking.

Prince Rainier: I've received my own correspondence from Easton. This next step (clears throat), I hope you're not going to make difficult for me.

Cmd Eldridge: (shocked) I... I... No.

Cmd Eldridge: (somber) You'll have my resignation tomorrow.

Prince Rainier: I'll need it now.

Cmd Eldridge: I hereby offer my resignation as Principal Private Secretary to His Royal Highness The Prince consort, effective immediately.

Prince Rainier: (somber) Accepted.

Prince Rainier: You've worked for me long enough. You know the rules. Who we are. How this works. Mistakes and scandals, there's no room for it.

Cmd Eldridge: I understand.

Prince Rainier: You should probably leave us tonight. I suggest a strict "no comment" on all counts, including letters.

Cmd Eldridge: Yes, Your Royal Highness.

- - - - - THE NEXT DAY - - - - -

[Buckingsim Palace]

Martin: We must depart for the train in one hour if we're to stay on schedule, ma'am. You will only have three days to spend at Sumpterson.

Queen Katherine: I'm happy you were able to re-arrange things to give me a couple of days off.

Martin: The Prince consort returns Friday evening, and Saturday is the Duke of Norfolks ball. Is this the gown you're wearing, ma'am.

Queen Katherine: It is.

Martin: His Royal Highness has also been sent updated instructions for the disembarking. With news of Cmd Eldridge's resignation fresh on the minds of the press, they will be watching your every interaction once you step off the plane.

- - - - - THE NEXT DAY - - - - -

[Sable Square, Brindleton Bay]

[??]: That's it. The Castle of Annie.

[??]: Oh my! What a view.

[??]: It dates back to the mid 17th century. It was in the same family for 10 generations.

Lord Craig Darden: If you are interested in the property, I'm going to be very honest. It needs quite a bit of work. One or two windows might need replacing and the electricity, well, still needs to be updated! Oh, and there's no dining room to speak of.

Queen Rowena: (smiles) Oh dear. You're really not a salesman.

Lady Delores: Who is that?

Lord Darden: He seems to be on a mission.

Lady Delores: Running, and wearing a suit in this thick forest?

William Filmore: Your Majesty! Forgive me for disturbing you. I come from the palace. They ask that you return to Easton immediately.

Queen Rowena: Whatever for?

William Filmore: This is all the information that I have?

Previous | Beginning | Next

[harryleatherfit]

for so long ༻꧂

part 2 >< kissing

5k dbf!neighbor!joel x fem!reader

𓆉 series master list 𓆉 main master list 𓆉

𓆉 series playlist 𓆉

warnings: [NO OUTBREAK], another woman, angst, alcohol consumption, v fingering, age gap (joel 47 reader 24) dbf!joel, dom!joel, mentions of death; grief etc. , heavy petting, clit play,

authors note: my classes start next week and i’m petrified. not having a set time to write will kill me, but i will make time! dbf!joel is so special to me and i need to finish upper east side. feel free to submit any ideas or thoughts you have for the series that you think i should include 🍊🍊🍊 gift to you all since it’s friday ;)

(and now as i want to write dbf joel now i’m thinking of doing a javier and oberyn fic oml i need to finish something first)

as always, comments and feedback is always always welcomed 𓇼

word count: 5K

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Salting, flavor 𖦹 Lies like a sailor

But he loves like a painter 𖦹 Billions

Psycho, priceless 𖦹 Good in a crisis

Working the angles 𖦹 Billions

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You forced yourself to get up and leave that dock, leaving behind your incident with Joel. You understood why he left, but at least you got what you had of him for that time. You chugged the last of the nasty beer, walking slowly off the dock to your house.

The party was still going on, but you didn’t want anyone to see you. Eyes bloodshot from being awake for so long, you thought you’d pass out immediately if you had to talk to anyone else. Detouring behind trees, you wind out to the front of the house again, entering the code to the garage. The music was loud and you felt bad for ditching your own welcome home party, but you would make it up to James and your dad.

You snuck into the kitchen for food without anyone seeing you, praying that Joel wouldn’t see you, or better off if they already left to go home.

Just in time as you're hauling the food upstairs, and the moment you realize you need your stuff from your dads car, you can hear Joel talking to someone. Not Tommy, Sarah or your dad. Another woman.

Backing down a few steps carefully so you don’t get caught in the line of sight, his back is turned against you, thankfully.

And this hag touching the collar of Joel’s shirt.

“We could host a fourth of July party together Joel, it would be fun.” She moves to his ear.

He backs up a little against the railing, looking to the side.

“Mary, you know how I feel about this.”

This.

“What Joel? We kissed one time, and then you were the one that took things further. You can’t blame me for wanting more.”

You see that he stays stagnant, he doesn’t even twitch with her there so close to him. She moves down his chest.

Not giving a fuck, you place the food at the top of the stairs, delicately walking back down to interupt their little frisk to go to your dad’s truck.

Trying not to wince when you see her kissing his cheek, the sexual desire making you almost puke. Bealining to open the front door,

“Honey, where are you going?”

Caught.

The last thing you wanted to talk to was these two. And you were so tired. At this point you were so sleep deprived talking still made sense, but everything said to you would slip pass and not register. You looked high, from your eyes being bloodshot, and your body was aching to just lay down in silence. Almost enjoying the misery of being so tired.

When you were tired, it was easy to get aggravated, your face would minisculely show if you were annoyed or pissed but now you had to do a straight face.

Turning around, the hairs on your back stand up right, swallowing.

Now you know, this was Mary Anne.

Your dad would always complain about this woman on the phone. The description he gave you matched perfectly and the tone of her voice sounded like high pitch nails clinging against each other.

Avoiding Joel, with obvious lipstick marks all over his face, they separated from each other when you turned around.

“You must be Mary Anne, my dad has talked about you quite a lot.” You smile, not once looking at Joel.

“Your father is too sweet, he’s really happy to have you back.”

“I’m happy to be back too, the town has expanded a lot.”

“Well thank Joel here, he and his brother have done all of that!” She pats his chest, nothing but disgust shingles through your head.

One minute he’s out with you, almost giving your heart to him. And here he is, being a fucking typical man.

You smile and nod at Joel, grabbing the door being you.

“James has missed you too, he talks about you all the time at baseball practice.”

Making eye contact, “I forgot you’re an assistant coach, that must be fun.”

Of course she was, it was just fucking weird at this point.

“Yeah, coaching the boys for the summer has been fun, I drive James home when your dad is stuck at the restaurant, I live just down the street so if you need anything let me know.”

You feel like your eyes unfocus and you’re just staring at this woman, just begging your body to leave.

“And I’m so sorry for your-” Here it comes. “Loss, James talks about your mama sometimes and I can imagine she was an incredible person.”

In your head, you shake your head and fucking scream, but now you freeze and stare at her.

You do let your mouth hang open, sucking in fire for air. Not in an upset way, but almost faking a yawn. It was childlike, but to them you felt small.

Joel is still, just fucking standing there and you know he’s looking at you out of pity.

“Mhm, thank you Mary Anne, I’m so sorry, I’m really tired and I was just going to grab my stuff out of my dad's truck.”

“Aww that’s okay honey, we're just about to leave too.” She laughs up at Joel.

Scoffing, you open the door and silently scream, and when you do leave the house you’re falling, falling to the ground.

Fucking perfect.

Mary Anne gasps and she tells Joel to get your father, instead he comes to you.

“Jason! Jason she fell, get out here!” She yells.

Thinking you’re okay, you try to get up, but no way in hell does that work when you fall straight down again.

You hear everyone rushing out to the porch and suddenly Joel’s strong hands grab your body.

“Don’t touch me. Let go.” You seethe under your breath.

You don’t care that you gave him a nasty look, he deserved it. But he backed off as you wished.

“Bear?” Your dad rushes out, “I told you we had no front steps right now.”

Eyes still adjusting to the darkness, sleep is all you need.

“Right.” You chuckle, “I forgot, sorry.” Everyone laughs, filing back inside to the party.

Standing up, putting your weight on your good leg, you hobble over to grab your duffle bags.

Throwing them onto the porch and crawling to stand on top of the wood, people were watching you but you didn’t give a fuck, you’d do it on your own.

“Dad, I'm going to sleep.”

He stands there, looking into your pearled eyes.

“Okay, see you in the morning.” He hugs you.

Joel and Mary Anne are still there at the bottom of the stairs.

“Have a good night.” Letting your eyes crinkle in the smile.

“Feel better honey!” She calls after you as you stumble up.

Joel watches you walks pass them. You’d spit on his shoes if you could.

Peering to the top step, the food is still there, thank god.

Not embarrassed as you thought, but that happening in front of Joel was a smack from hell. Opening your door, turning on the light to your childhood room. Nothing has changed. The smell, the pictures and paint, your bed, all the same.

𓆉

Someone’s jumping on your bed. Eyes opening up, sun filling the room, James is shaking you awake.

“It’s noon! Wake up!” He says.

You groan, “James it’s saturday…”

“And it’s your real first day here and I want to spend it with you!”

“Okay… where’s dad?”

“He’s at the restaurant. He told me to ask you if you could close tonight so he can come get me from my scrimmage practice.”

“Jason wants me to work..” You pout, truly you were fine with it. It’s the family business and you had nothing better to do, but on a saturday night…

“Ok, how about we spend the day together and I’ll drive you to practice in dads other car, and I’ll go to the damned restaurant. Deal?” You confirm.

“Perfect.” He giggles.

“Do you want to go surfing?”

“Let's do that tomorrow. I have my game and then there's that team bonfire thing dad told you about, surf then?”

“It’s tomorrow? That’s perfect James. I cant wait to watch you play.”

He grins, “Dad left some cash for us to go eat, I want Ihop.”

“Ihop.” You mock. “You really want IHop?”

“Yes”.

“Fine.”

You get out of bed and James stays.

“How’s your leg?”

“Fine.” You mumble.

“I saw Mary Anne trying to bud in per usual.”

You respond immediately, “Is that awkward, her being your coach…”

“Thank god you think that, I swear she thinks she’s my new mom and then did you see her all over Joel! Sarah was disgusted.”

“Yeah I was too, yuck.” Putting a finger in your mouth. “Trust me I knew who she was when I saw her, dad told me all about the annoying lady that clings to all the single men in town.”

“She’s been all over Joel for so long it’s annoying, if she becomes Sarah’s step mom I’m making her move in with us, sorry.”

Sarah’s step mom. You shiver.

“Sarah… hmm James, do you like her?” You stare him down as you brush your hair.

“I’ll be honest I don’t know… there's days where I think she likes me back but then some days it feels like we’ll only be friends.” He explains.

“You won’t know until you ask, but at least you’re friends.” You offer. “Ask her to come to breakfast with us, it wouldn't hurt.”

“You're the best.” He shrieks and runs to grab his phone.

𓆉

After having breakfast with Sarah and your brother, which seemed completely normal between them both. Sarah wanted to go to James practice, you dropped them both off and before you had to go to the restaurant you went to the towns public beach.

You sat there watching people, headphones in. There were some hot, hot men.

You called Lexie, updated her about your first day and told her about Joel.

“That hot dad, why didn’t you kiss him?”

“I don’t know I was scared and I think he was too.” You look down at the sand.

“And he’s apparently with this old bitch, so show him up. Date around the town. Put yourself out there.” She edges on.

“I don’t know, maybe sometime soon, but I have to go to my dads restaurant to close, he said you can visit whenever. Joel has a hot brother…”

She laughs over the receiver, “Maybe after the fourth, and I’ll come spend a week. In August I start my new job at that aquatic life place I was telling you about.”

“That’s amazing Lex, let me know about after the fourth, we’ll have fun.”

“Okay, I love you, Ciao!”

You never thought about it in terms but you didn’t want to work at your dad’s restaurant forever, you didn’t want your degrees to go to waste.

You’d start job hunting soon, but you needed to give yourself some time. It was weird being in the same town you grew up in, reliving every childhood memory. A little girl who would wake up happy, but now everything makes you feel like a ghost.

You wish you could silence it all, but here you are asking for answers.

𓆉

As you pull into the parking lot, it's dark and your dads truck is gone. You forgot you’d have to meet a whole new staff and it was packed. Or you could wait in the back the whole night and just lock the doors to the building when everyone’s gone.

Applying mascara and black honey, you get out of your car and walk in. People at the bar, people inside, people outside eating at on the lookout to the beach. Bussers and servers moving quickly.

Walking up to the hostess stand, a boy that looks your age sits in a chair sideways, chewing gum with his mouth open and he has a 2012 Justin Bieber hair cut.

“Yo, sit yourself inside or out, server will get to you afterwards.” He says, still scrolling on his phone

“Ummm, I’m uhhh.” Trying to get his attention, “Jason’s daughter, he wanted me to close tonight.”

He sits up, falling out of his chair, then getting up again.

“Boss’s daughter.” He yelps, looking frightened and he scrambles to clean the counter.

The server nearby screams and chaos breaks loose.

“Uh no you guys don’t have to do that, I’m nothing, pretend I’m not even here.” You back into the corner and boot it behind the bar. People were looking at you and murmuring, and the bartender looks your way.

“Chet?” You ask.

“No fucking way, it’s really you, they said the boss’s daughter was coming in tonight and I wasn’t gonna believe it unless I saw it.”

You and Chet were friends when you were younger, you both liked to surf a lot when you were kids,but then you saw him less and less, nothing bad but time.

Time was all you had, but still lost.

“Sorry if we're more lax than other restaurants, your dad did choose to hire all 20 year olds.” He smirks.

You shrug, “It’s the beach life, what more do you expect?”

He made a few more drinks, you both talked through the night. You were happy he didn’t bring up your mom. You weren’t sure if he knew but it wasn’t worth bringing up.

Before he left a the end of his shift,

“Hang out this summer?” He looked into your eyes.

“I’d like that.”

Chet wasn’t too harsh on the eyes either. He was pretty, and always nice. You expected nothing less from him. His parents raised him right and you were so proud to know one of the good ones.

The whole staff left late, you got to talk to all of them, glad that your dad works with good people.

As everyone left, you were cleaning behind the bar and wiping cups, hearing the ding of the door cling alive.

“We close in ten minutes.” You yell above your head.

“I know.”

Your head pops up from the counter, and lo and behold Joel Miller.

“What are you doing here?” You stand up.

His hair looked electrocuted, his eyes bloodshot. His clothes were disheveled, but his fucking flannel still hugged his body. He still looks like the man you’ve known for so long.

“Wanted to see if you were okay…” He walks in.

“M’fine.” You swallow.

He takes a seat at the bar and you look into his eyes, he looks tired, and already drunk.

“You’re drunk.” You blink.

You wouldn’t let yourself be upset at this, but you were mad that you let yourself talk about your mom to Joel, and he was smothered in lipstick by another woman. It was the principle.

He tuts, “I am.”

“Then why are you here?” Throwing your hands to your side.

He gulps, “I don’t want to do this, I had a long day.”

“Mhmph okay, find we won’t do this.”

You clean more and he just stands there and watches you.

“If you want to stand and watch, maybe I can invite Mary Anne to join.” You look up.

“Don’t, don’t do that.” He puts his head in his hand.

“Then what the fuck do you want me to do…Joel. You’re here in my dad’s restaurant, go home.” You yell.

“I can’t… I can’t go home without speaking to you.”

“Then talk, it isn’t hard Joel.” You pause.

“You know this isn’t fair,” He starts, “I find out you’re coming to live with your dad and it’s like my whole life stops.” He mumbles.

“Do you want some more lipstick all over your face, or are you gonna cry about it?”

Calmly he walks behind the bar, not raising his voice.

“I messed up, I know that. But please…” He gets closer to you, “Don’t be mad at me.”

“Joel you were this close to my face 24 hours ago comforting me about my dead mom and you,” You put your finger on his chest, “You and this old bitch were in, now my house kissing. And you try to be the hero by asking if I’m okay last night with your faced smeared from another woman,” You shake your head, “Get the fuck out.” You say sternly.

He stands there shaking his head, he doesn’t move.

“What Joel?” You look into his eyes defeated.

“You don’t get it sweetheart, you are my best friend's daughter. If I did something to you, if I touch you, if we are caught, if I kiss you, if I even think about you. I am corrupting you.”

You stay silent, but you listen to him. Hanging by a thread, you would listen to him forever.

“If your father found out about us, do you know what he would do to me? What he would do to make us not see each other?” He swallows.

“Ever since I have known you, I have kept myself away from you. Mary Anne is nothing, I mean it.”

You watch his eyes gloss and his arms cross, he’s being genuine.

“I allowed myself to come in here tonight because you needed to know that, but I promise I’ll never go near her or you again, and as long you’re here I won’t-

You had to, you had to quiet him, standing on your toes you close in on his mouth. Kissing him, letting yourself touch him.

You moan into his mouth, something to quiet him.

He lets go, “No, don’t do this because you feel bad sweetheart.”

“Joel you can’t tell me what to do.” You capture his lips again, your nose’s brushing. His musk electrifies the burn in your body. “My dad will not find out about this, I am a grown woman, I choose what I want for my life.”

He closes his eyes, breathes and opens, his voice drops “Small town beach girl all grown up now?”

Your eyes widen, “Please, I wasn’t always studying, Joel. Fucking forced me to be better student.”

He blinks, “Close the fucking restaurant and meet me in my truck.”

You stand there, grinning. He walks away and you finish the closing tasks. Before you open the door to walk outside, preparing yourself. This is Joel Miller. You’ve wanted him the day you first met him.

Locking the door, you turn around and his truck is not in the parking lot, but near the trees on the sand a couple hundred feet away. The moon was illuminating the water and you walked over.

You could see he was looking out the window, waiting for you. Restraining yourself from running to the passenger door, you make it, open the door and pull yourself in. No one could see you both in this spot, which was good.

“Hi.” You breathe, your heart was racing and when he looked over at you, the moonlight reflecting off his face and hair made you throb. Made you crave more in your life. He’s beautiful, you never needed anything more than him right now.

The feeling crashes over you too quickly, you move to sit in his lap and he kisses you. Matching your speed, all you can focus on is his mouth.

He grunts when you thread your fingers through his soft hair. You kiss his nose, mouth agape at how intoxicated this man has made you feel. It was new, you weren’t scared but you were so hyper aware of how he touched you. Lust consumed your brain.

You pop off from his lips, remembering that he was drunk, “Joel, you’re drunk.”

He licks his lips, “This,” He kisses you again, “Has sobered me up. I promise.”

His reassurance calmed your heart, but would he regret this?

He moved with you, you both moaned into each other, you both needed each other.

“Was she like this Joel? Was her pussy tight? Did she make you cum?” You question, shifting down to his neck and you suck until you can feel his breath stutter.

“Could her throat take your cock? Did she finish you off? Could she swallow your thick… oozing cum?” You lick a stripe on his neck, you can feel his stomach cave in. Reaching a hand down to his jeans, you palm him. His breath is shallow, music to your ears.

The windows are starting to fog up and you lean against his side window, staring at his dark honey eyes.

“How’d you fuck her Joel? Was she screaming your name all night?” You continue to rub the outline of his hard cock.

He stops you, with a shaky hand he grabs your jaw, in a low rough rasp, “You’re fucking filthy.” He slams his pouted lips to yours, letting him take you. He nips at your lip, touching under your tits. Beyond being sensitive, you take off your shirt inviting him for more.

“Bet she doesn't have tits like mine, does she?” You flaunt.

Your tits were bubbling out your bra, being a broke college student didn’t allot you to buy bras every time you grew a size.

Joel gave you confidence, his eyes were glued to what he saw, and it fucked with your brain, but you loved it.

“Sweetheart, fucking her was nothing. All she wanted was vanilla,” He licks the top of your boob, “She wanted nothing more than soft.”

“Joel Miller fucks rough?” You ask, raising a brow.

“When I fuck sweetheart, it’s hard… and long.” He extends his arms to your ass. “I like to take my time.”

You wince as his hand crawls up your back from your ass.

“She didn’t like that. She will never be you.” He carnally growls, “And I didn’t cum, she threw up on my dick.”

You bust out laughing, he follows. He must have a big fucking did then…

He felt so good against you. You could feel your swollen lips and your flushed cheeks. Sweat building on your hairline and neck.

You want to give him more, you want to feel more so you lean back against the steering wheel, going for the zipper to his jeans and he stops you, looking up.

“No, pretty girl hands off.” He huffs, “I want to make you feel good right now, that’s the least I owe you.” He draws out a kiss, “But that fucking mouth- gonna get you in trouble. Fucking brat. Mary Anne is gone, blocked. If I see her again, nothing. I promise.”

You shiver, “I’ve never been with a man…” He pushes your hair behind your ear, “That focuses just on me.”

“Then I’ll teach you, sweet girl.” He rubs circles on your cheeks.

“Those college boys don’t know how to fuck.” He hums, his hands crawl across your back, unhooking your bra and it falls off, he’s definitely not a college boy. He’s a man.

He adjusts again when he sees your tits, grunting. Immediately he lunges forward to your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and a high-pitched whimper falls from your mouth. Your head rests above his, and you push him to your body.

His mouth takes your nipple, his tongue caressing each part, and your head swells. No man has ever focused on your boobs.

“So fucking perfect sweetheart. So soft.” He was sucking enough you knew you’d wake up with hickeys everywhere, but you knew that’s how it would feel real.

He pushes you a little further back, “Put your hands on the dashboard.”

You put your hands behind your back, giving space as your body lifts.

His golden hands circle your nipples, so sensitive you hiss. His hands reach your zipper now, and he stops.

“Are you okay with me touchin you?” He asks, with a hushed breath.

This was it, you weren’t in college anymore. You weren’t being fingered in your dorm room any more, you weren’t uncomfortable, you were with Joel. He asked you, he isn’t forcing you.

Nodding your head, “Yes.”

With your approval his eyes travel down, his fingers insistent on your zipper. He shimmies your jean shorts down your legs. Your left bare in your black underwear. Nothing special but, black underwear was the only thing you would buy.

“If you want to stop, we stop. Okay?” He gets your attention, you’re hazed by the fog. Breathing was starting to get hard and you couldn't believe Joel was about to finger you. Nobody but him.

You kiss him again, “Make me cum Joel, please.”

His left hand pulls your underwear to the side, revealing the mess you’ve created. You’ve been drenched since the bar.

You draw in a moan, the air and his breath on you made the hair on your back raise. You were scared he didn’t like what he saw, but now wasn’t the time to worry. You couldn’t give a fuck.

He fiddles his fingers between your pussy lips, drenching his hand with your liquid.

“Fuck, been drenched for me all night, huh? Been wanting this?” His southern accent was going to make you scream.

“I’ve wanted you forever Joel, please…” You beg.

He slowly brings his fingers to his face, putting them in his mouth.

He closes his eyes and groans.

“Like honey, you’re fuckin perfect sweetheart. M’fucking lucky.” He puts his fingers back on your pussy, up to your clit. Your jaw drops.

“That’s the spot. Mhhhm.” He rubs your nub furiously, holding on tight.

“Last night you looked so pretty, always so fucking pretty.” He says, “Those hazy eyes,” You smile, “You’re body,” He brings you closer, hand to cupping you, “This pussy.”

Beat. He takes a breath. Air thick.

“You are perfect, and I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. Now I know.”

Even if he didn’t mean it, even if he had said this to another woman, you didn’t care. His words drew out something filthy, something the rest of the world would ever understand about you.

With his right hand hand he holds your stomach down, he was touching the part you most nervous about. But he didn’t care about what you looked like, he didn’t care about or know what you thought of yourself. He kept touching you.

“I could survive on your pussy for the rest of my life. I mean that.” He murmurs.

Taken by shock, still holding you down. He maneuvers his fingers with your panties, sliding two fingers in. This was it.

You gasp, not realizing alone how thick two of his fingers were. “Oh my fucking- god… Joel.”

He doesn't stop. He keeps going, not letting up and you couldn’t tell the difference between anything anymore. It was just him.

“Feel good, pretty girl? So fucking tight.” He snarls. His thumb pushes the skin about your clit, rubbing it as he fingers you.

“Joel, faster. I don’t fucking care.” You scream.

He does as he’s told, curving them inside. You yelp, no man has ever gotten this point, never able to finger fucking you this good.

His other hand holding you down made it better. Strong enough to keep you down from a shaking. You could feel it brewing. A storm riling inside your cunt.

You swallow, he knows what hes doing and you are utterly fucked.

“Gonna cum over fingers, c’mon baby, I know you can do it, such a good girl.”

“Joel-”

“I know. Let go for me.”

Instantly the waves from the beach fills your ears and a piercing shriek splits through the car. You get so tight your walls push him out and you slump on top of Joel, catching your breath.

You couldn’t process, this was the most intimate you’ve ever been with a man, it felt like you were being sloppy to your morals. But you couldn’t resist Joel.

In his car, both risking this for each other. He came for you.

Since you met him, earlier in your college years, it felt like this was supposed to happen. And now it is.

You could feel him kisisng you chest, not letting go.

He opens the center concil, grabbing a kleenex and swiping your center clean of your slick. Rubbing the dull pain he just fucked out of you.

Amazed to watch him clean you up.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing.” You shrug.

Just Joel Miller, cleaning your vagina up, after he gave you a lip biting orgasm.

“Bet those boys never cleaned you up, a shame.” He says.

He helps lift you to the passenger seat and he just stares at you.

“You’re beautiful, and I’ll say it a thousand times over.” Heart leaping, you couldn’t say anything. You gulp.

“When you get home you need to pee.” He pants.

“Trust me, I know.” You laugh, every window in the car was fogged up, and you drew his name on your side. Both watching a droplet fall.

“Gotta get you home or your dad will probably fucking panic.” He says.

You nod in agreement, as he pulls out, leaving the beach. He rolls down the windows to circulate the air. Your hair blows through the wind and you've never felt more alive, more safe.

You watch him as he drives, how calm he is with everything. His smile, the lines on his face, his nose. Beautiful. You could write about him. You wrote about everything, observed and took in every little piece of information, and you would do this for Joel.

Time has done him well.

“I know tonight was… short lived. There's so much more I want to say and do, but I promise-”

You rush a finger to his lips.

“Shhh, you don’t have to promise me anything. I know.” You grin.

As much as you wanted to do more tonight with him, you’re glad this was what was given to you. You’re glad he came to bar.

He drives up to his house. From next door you could see the lights are off but James and your dad are home. Unbuckling, you grab your phone and open the door.

He turns off the engine, and before you get out of the car he grabs your shirt, and kisses you hard.

“See you at the game and campfire tomorrow?”

You nod your head.

Softly you hum to yourself as you get out, walking briskly to the front of your porch and crawling on top to unlock the door. You look over to him before you go inside and he’s laughs at you.

What has Joel Miller done to you?



[ourtearsofrain]

The Barbarians (D.R.W/S.F.K) - Chapter 6

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Genre: angst 

Word Count: just under 4.2k

Warnings: AU typical events/threats/violence (later in the series), thoughts of killing someone else but it’s very homoerotic

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Still The Children Smiling, Can We See No Sin

Sam

Friday, July 8th

“In two weeks, 23 of you will be dead. One of you will be alive, who that is depends on how well you pay attention over the next three days, particularly to what I’m about to say.” Me, I’m going to be that one. Everyone else here will die, by my hands or someone else’s. “First, no fighting with the other tributes, you’ll have plenty of time for that in the arena.” Easy enough, although no promises if Hazel gets on my nerves. And that guy from 7, he keeps flashing me dirty glances and then when I try to make eye contact, he refuses to meet it. What’s his deal?  “There are four compulsory exercises, the rest will be individual training. My advice is: don’t ignore the survival skills. Everybody wants to grab a sword, but most of you will die from natural causes. 10% from infection, 20% from dehydration. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife.” They’re wasting their own time telling us this, well, at least the tributes from 1 and 2, we’ve been fed this shit in school every year since we were 12.

Their lead trainer turns and walks away from the group without another word, signaling to them that their training had begun. What is it with these people and never ending a conversation? Seriously, they all just walk away when they’re done speaking.

“So, what station should we do first?” Hazel appears at Sam’s side with a smile, hope flashing behind her eyes.

“‘We’ aren’t going anywhere. I’m going to the sword station first.”

Hazel’s expression falls as he walks away from her, quickly trying to catch up as she plasters a smile back onto her face. “Then I will too.”

Sam rounds on her, keeping his voice low and even as he remembers what the trainer had said about fighting between tributes. “Why? Why are you following me around? We have different skills; it’ll be more useful if you go to stations with yours.”

“It will be more useful if we both stick together and present as a united front. Just think about it, if the others see that we’re already allies even before going into the arena, they won’t dare try anything with us, they’ll be too afraid.”

Frustration fills Sam at the validity of her argument. He knew she was right, he just didn’t want to admit it. “Fine. Stay out of my way though.” Sam steps up to the station, aware of the assistant watching his every move as he considers each option before him. Are none of these sharpened? How do they expect us to train with them, then?

As if the assistant could read his mind, he steps towards him, offering an explanation. “These dull swords are for sparring, one-on-one combat with me. If you’d prefer to practice on a dummy, we have separate, sharpened swords.”

“Oh, ok. So, I can fight you to practice?”

“If you wish.” Sam looks the assistant up and down, considering his likelihood of winning against him. He was of similar build to him, slightly shorter; Sam knew he could easily win a match against him. Winning was all that mattered, he needed the other tributes to see his skills.

“Alright, I choose a Gladius.” He picks the hunk of metal up, testing the weight of it. It wasn’t as nice as the ones he had trained with, but it was for training; he only hoped that the ones they gave them in the arena would be higher quality. Sam steps onto the mat, immediately falling into a ready position as the assistant follows suit. “You ready?”

He cocks an eyebrow at Sam, a small smile playing across his lips as if he expected Sam to fail quickly. “Are you?”

Before he can respond, the assistant leaps forward, stabbing the point of the sword towards his stomach. Sam blocks it easily, counterattacking with a slashing motion aimed at his exposed side. Just before it makes contact, the assistant recovers, deflecting the move with the blade at the base of the hilt. Damn, thought that would get him. The pair duel for what feels like hours to Sam, his frustration growing each time his opponent blocks each of his moves, attacking with increasingly intricate countermoves. Finally, Sam sees his opportunity, taking it faster than he can think as his training had hard-wired his mind for battle. Catching the assistant’s sword hand with his blade, his grip loosens, causing the man to shift his focus from blocking another attack to getting his grip back on the blade. In this second of distraction, Sam stabs his sword forward, hitting the man in the center of his abdomen.

The assistant relaxes, nodding slightly to Sam before leaving the dueling space and standing wait for his next opponent. Sam returns his sword to the weapons table only for Hazel to find his side immediately. “That was great, and even better, I think more than half the tributes here were watching when you won.”

“Good.” Now they know what I can do, what I will do if they run into me. “What’s next?”

“Knives. You’ve had your time to impress everyone, so now it’s my turn.”

“Seems fair.” Sam follows Hazel as she makes her way over to the knife training station, a long table with assorted blades laid out before three practice targets about 20 feet away from them. He zones out as she methodically considers her options, finally landing on three throwing knives and moving to stand before the targets. She raises one of the knives up, taking a grounding breath before sending it flying through the air with all the strength she can muster.

It hits the direct center of the target, its impact ringing out against the metal walls. She throws the other two knives, one after the other, striking each target dead center with ease. She turns back to him with a self-impressed smile, her eyes darting to something behind Sam’s head. He doesn’t get the chance to turn to see what or who she was looking at as two tributes appear at his side.

“Nice aim.” The male comments, turning his attention towards Sam. “I saw you fight too. We think you could make useful allies.” The female tribute nods in agreement before he continues. “I’m Vanil, this is Amaram. District 2.”

“And what skills do you two have?” Sam asks before Hazel can agree, sensing her excitement.

“I’m also good with throwing knives, and Vanil is deadly with a war hammer. He can do a hell of a lot of damage with a machete too.” Amaram’s response is flat, stating basic information without letting any emotion into her tone. “We’re both highly trained in survival skills too.”

“We’ll consider it.” The other two tribute’s expressions stay neutral, only nodding once as if his answer was satisfactory enough for them.

“Good.” Without another word, the pair turn and leave, making their way over to other training stations.

“Why didn’t you accept their offer?” Hazel questions him the second they’re out of earshot, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“If we accept their offer too eagerly, it’ll look like we need them. They’d think we are weak and unable to survive on our own and they’d turn on us as soon as they could.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess. Alright, have you seen any other tributes you’d like to offer allyship to?”

Sam considers her words, carefully analyzing the others in the room as they’re each consumed with their own tasks. His eyes land on Daniel, a group of three young tributes watching as he explains an axe to them. “The male from 7.”

“What? Why?” She looks towards him, distaste passing over her features. “Just look at him, he’s weak. Offering help to any tribute who’s 14 or younger. What’s he gonna do, become a mother hen to them in the arena? He’ll be killed trying to protect them.”

As she finishes speaking, Daniel turns towards the targets, seemingly easily launching a full-sized axe through the air with one arm. It imbeds itself into a practice dummy, hitting it straight in between where its eyes would be. “Still think he’s weak?” A haughty smile twists Sam’s lips as Hazel’s cheeks tint at how she had underestimated the other tribute. “And the only reason he’s taking them under his wing is to get sponsors, why else would he?”

“How would that get him sponsors?”

“Just think about it; big, strong man from 7 who can probably survive on his own just fine choosing to be allies with younger, less experienced tributes. The Garden will eat that up, call him a hero or some shit.”

“Huh, didn’t know they were so smart with strategic planning in 7. How about a bet, then?”

“What?”

“I think he’ll die in the bloodbath protecting those kids, you don’t. How long do you give him?”

“A couple days with the kids tagging along, maybe a week or two without them.”

“So, it’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal. Get ready to lose, Hazel Fairfield.”

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Saturday, July 9th

The first day of training had passed quickly as Sam and Hazel moved from station to station, sticking to the weapons they knew they excelled at, agreeing to save the training stations dedicated to survival skills for the second day. The pair had been at the edible plants station for no longer than five minutes before they’re joined by two others, Vanil and Amaram.

“Give any more thought to our offer?” Vanil cuts straight to the point the second Sam turns towards him, looking between him and Hazel questioningly.

“We have.” Don’t sound too eager, think of it as a business transaction. They aren’t your friends, in the end, they will be your enemy. “We think you’d make valuable allies in the arena.”

“Good, smart choice. So, I heard you both volunteered?”

Hazel’s quick to respond, her lie convincing all but Sam. “Yep, the female tribute from our district was just a kid, so I volunteered.”

“So did we, not for a younger tribute though.” Amaram offers, her voice and expression still flat and devoid of emotion.

“What about you, Samuel? I heard you were jealous of your brothers.” Vanil smiles at Sam maliciously, as if he were trying to get him to snap.

Keep your cool, don’t let him know that his comment has any effect on you. Sam plasters a smile on his face, not reaching his eyes as he collects himself to respond. “Well, I hate to tell you that you’ve heard wrong, but.”

“Oh? Then why did you volunteer? Some noble cause like your partner?”

“Nope, just wanted a shot in the arena, figured I’ve waited long enough. Same as you, I’d guess.”

“You’d guess correct. Tell me then, if that’s a lie, is the rumor that you took out extra food rations to get into the reaping more a lie as well?”

“That one’s actually true, like I said, I’ve waited long enough.” Sam’s attention is ripped from the other Careers as he sees Daniel move towards him, having been coaching the other three tributes that had been following him around at the fire-starting station nearby. He doesn’t think much of it until Daniel snakes in between the others, his fist suddenly slamming into his jaw, rattling his skull as his vision cuts out momentarily from the sheer force of his punch.

“You fucking entitled ass bitch!” Daniel’s face is painted with rage as he moves to strike again, his voice echoing off the walls as all tributes in the room pause their training to watch the interaction. Just as Sam moves to hit him back, a Peacekeeper grabs Daniel from behind, dragging the man away as others rush to intervene. “Let me go!” As he continues to fight against the Peacekeeper behind him, another moves to his front, sending a punch into his stomach, effectively knocking the wind from his lungs and stopping his fight.

While he’s still incapacitated, the two Peacekeepers grab him by the arms, dragging him from the room, his eyes still furious and trained right on Sam. The second the doors close behind him, the room is silent, all tributes standing with wide eyes at the event that had just unfolded between the two. “Alright people, as you were. May I remind you, there is no fighting between tributes during training.”

And just like that, everyone resumes their previous activities, acting as if nothing had happened. “That was a solid blow, man. You good?”

Sam drops his hand from his sore jaw as Vanil’s eyes find him, keeping his tears at bay. “Yeah, barely even felt it. Have no idea what his problem is.”

Despite his words, Hazel still looked concerned for Sam, knowing better than to voice it with the other two tributes present. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t bruise, it’d be a shame to have it during your interview with Claudius.”

“Yeah, yeah it would.”

Still sensing that something was wrong, Hazel tries to comfort him in whatever way she can, given their surroundings. “Don’t worry, we can get him at the bloodbath. With those kids flocking to him, he’ll be an easy target.”

“Yeah.” Sam offers them a half-hearted smile as he turns back to the training station, busying himself with the activity as his mind wanders back to Daniel. I want him dead. I want to sink my sword straight into his chest, feel his fucking dying breath on my lips. I want to watch the light leave those beautiful hazel eyes, to be so close to him I can see each individual freckle on his gorgeous nose. I want him. Dead.

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Forgetting the End as Your New Life Has Begun

Danny

Friday, July 8th

“In two weeks, 23 of you will be dead. One of you will be alive, who that is depends on how well you pay attention over the next three days, particularly to what I’m about to say.” How encouraging. “First, no fighting with the other tributes, you’ll have plenty of time for that in the arena.” Why would I want to fight anyone before the games?  Actually, maybe that Samuel guy. He won’t stop fucking looking at me. Maybe trying to determine how easy to target I’ll be. “There are four compulsory exercises, the rest will be individual training. My advice is: don’t ignore the survival skills. Everybody wants to grab a sword, but most of you will die from natural causes. 10% from infection, 20% from dehydration. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife.” Again, how encouraging. At least she’s being honest.

As the lead trainer turns and walks away from the group without another word, Danny turns to Daphne. “So, what do you want to do first?”

“Ropes course? I’m good at climbing trees, should be fairly the same, right?”

“Sounds good to me, kid. C’mon, let’s go before too many tributes find their way over there.” The pair walk briskly over to their first chosen training station, thankful to find they were the first in line. He lets Daphne go first, watching her carefully as she scurries up the ropes for any minor mistakes that could prove fatal in the arena. Finding none, he smiles, relieved to see that she confidently and easily leapt and balanced on the thin ropes above him. If something happens to me, she can stick to the trees. Keep herself safe enough for as long as possible.

She makes it to the other side quickly, jumping down with cat-like ability. Impressive. I definitely can’t do that. He offers her a light slap on the back as she finds his side again, looking up at him with the need for input clearly written across her face. “That was great, you’re a natural.”

“Thanks, Danny. Now it’s your turn, try and beat my time.”

“If I do that, I’m breaking my neck before I even set foot in the arena.” His words are light as he makes his way to the start of the course, stopping before the rope and inhaling a deep breath through his nose. Knowing he’d make better time (and impress or intimidate other tributes), he jumps to give himself a head start, catching the rope between his hands as he pulls himself to the top, not using his legs to assist himself. Despite the burning in his arms as he hoists himself to the top of the course, he leaps between the netted roping, using his momentum to keep his balance.

The end of the coarse blindsides him, and he saves himself from falling right off the edge by jumping at the last second, his hands blindly finding the last rope hanging from the ceiling. He barely feels the burn against his palms as he slides down it, the callouses from years of chopping wood protecting his skin. When he looks back to Daphne, he sees that she hadn’t been watching him alone, two other young tributes had joined her while he was running the course. They move to leave when they see him approach until he smiles at them, their fear pausing at the warmth in his expression.

“That was cool.” The male tribute speaks as the female tribute nods, still unsure on if she should stay or not.

“Thanks. What’s your guy’s names?”

“Fletch, District 12.”

“Daisy, District 11.”

“Fletch, Daisy; nice to meet you, I’m Danny and my friend here is Daphne.” He looks around the room, trying to find the other tributes from 11 and 12, only to see them occupied talking to the Careers from District 2. “Why aren’t you guys with the other tributes from your district? They don’t want to stick with you guys?”

“Nope.” Fletch’s answer is short, frustrated as anger flashes across his features.

“They said we’re too young, we have no chance at surviving so it’s pointless for them to try to train or be allies with us.”

Assholes. Despite his anger at the other tributes for throwing their partners aside, he manages to control his expression, still knowing to be careful not to scare them. “Well, you guys can stick with us if you want. How old are you two anyway?”

“13.”

“14, almost 15.” Fletch stands a little taller at his words, sending a smile to Danny’s lips.

“That’s good enough for me, Daphne here’s 12. Want me to show you guys something cool?” All three kids nod eagerly, following Danny as he makes his way over to the axe training station. “Any of you have any experience with these?” All but Daphne shakes their heads, leading him to motion them over to the table to explain each weapon. “This one is a throwing axe, they’re lightweight, entirely metal, and sharpened on three sides. The bottom of the handle, or haft, is also pointed, so you can do some damage with that end too. They’re great for distance if you have an accurate aim and good strength.” He sets the small axe down, picking up another, medium sized one. “This is an archer’s axe, good for close range and chopping wood. So, great for fighting and survival skills. This one is a double headed axe, and this a battle axe. The blades are sharp, but the weapon is heavy. They’re really only good in battle if you have a strong arm and good control of it. Now, on to my favorite.”

Danny picks up an axe he had the most practice with, one he had “trained” with for years. “This is a felling axe. Ideal for chopping wood, but if you have a strong arm and lots of practice, you can do this.” He turns away from them, moving the end of the handle to his left hand as he steps to line himself up about 10 feet away from one of the practice dummies. Summoning all his strength, he swings his arm back over his shoulder in a controlled motion before launching it at the dummy. It strikes it right in the center of its head, in between where a human’s eyes would be. Satisfied with himself, he walks over to the dummy, wrestling the imbedded blade out of the material before he turns back to the other three tributes, all watching him with wide eyes.

“That was so- so-”

“Cool?” Danny offers.

As Daisy goes to agree, Fletch cuts her off, his voice riddled with excitement. “That was more than cool! Can you teach us?”

“I can try.” Danny laughs out, replacing the felling axe on the table to grab the throwing axes. “Let’s try with these first though, they’re easier to learn.”

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Saturday, July 9th

“Alright, so you want to create a clearing for the fire, get rid of anything that could catch. We don’t need to burn down the entire arena accidentally.” I mean that wouldn’t be too bad. As Danny explains, he shows Daphne, Fletch, and Daisy with the small model he had built, moving the dried leaves and sticks until he has a clear circle of dirt. “Then, you want to line the circle with large rocks if you have them, this prevents it from getting out of control. Next, you want to put some small sticks down to act as a platform of sorts and cover it with dry leaves or whatever you’re burning.”

As he tries to gather the last of his materials, he can’t help but overhear the conversation between the Careers a few stations down. “So, I heard you both volunteered?” Can’t fucking imagine volunteering for the games willingly. How much of an ego do you have to have to do that? Danny tries his best to ignore the group, needing to focus on the task at hand.

“So uh, then if you don’t have matches or anything like that, you want to cut a ‘V’ into a flat piece of wood and fill that with bark. Then you take a stick like this and place it in that ‘V’.”

“Nope, just wanted a shot in the arena, figured I’ve waited long enough. Same as you, I’d guess.” God, he thinks so highly of himself. Ignore him, you need to focus.

“Then, you want to rub it back and forth between your flat palms while pressing down gently on the wood. When it begins to spark, transfer those sparks to the leaves and blow on it to create a fire.”

“Tell me then, if that’s a lie, is the rumor that you took out extra food rations to get into the reaping more a lie as well?”

“That one’s actually true, like I said, I’ve waited long enough.” What?! Danny’s mind goes blank as rage consumes him, ripping his attention to Samuel and the other Careers. They look fucking happy about it? As if wasting food to get into a fight to the death is fine? Who the fuck does he think he is?!

Not thinking straight, he stands, stalking over to Samuel and weaving between the others surrounding him. Before he can stop himself, his hand forms a fist, and he sends it straight into his jaw with all the force he can muster. He looks surprised, good. I hope he remembers this shit when we get into the arena. “You fucking entitled ass bitch!” Danny screams at him, his rage tearing his vocal cords apart. As he raises his fist again, a Peacekeeper appears out of nowhere, dragging him backwards away from the other man.

“Let me go!” He fights as hard as he can to evade the Peacekeepers grasp, all the progress he had made ending up useless as another punches him hard in the stomach. Fuck. That hurt, I deserve it. Fuck, what have I done? They move to grab his arms, pulling him away from Samuel. Despite the pain radiating through his abdomen, he keeps his furious eyes locked on Samuel’s, happy to see fear flashing behind them as he’s led away.

The moment the doors close behind them, the Peacekeepers don’t stop their path, flooding Danny with terror. Are they going to kill me for what I pulled? Fuck. Daphne needs me in there. The other kids too. “Where are you taking me?” He tries to keep his voice even, not fighting against the Peacekeepers as they lead him through the halls.

“Back to your floor. You’re done for the day.”

“Really? That’s it?” Neither respond as his body relaxes, their grips on him loosening as they distance themselves from the training room, knowing that he had nowhere else to run. That could have been a lot worse. That was a stupid move on my part, I should know better. He’s just so entitled, so egotistical, it’s infuriating. He took out unnecessary rations, meanwhile my sister and I are near starving in 7, with more families than I can count maxing out their extra rations just to stay fed. I swear to God, if I get the chance in that arena, I’m killing him as soon as possible.

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Taglist: @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @milojames16 @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm @sanguinebats @cheersdannyx2 @musicislove3389 @holdingup-fallingsky @Maddie-Rae

[flowers-of-io]

Fic Rec Friday #1

Inspired by the fic rec reblog chain spurned by @a-driftamongopenstars and @synnthamonsugar last Friday, I thought it would be cool to do a weekly rec from my personal fic library! I’ll try sticking to Fridays, and the tag for it is izzy's bookshelf, should you wish to either follow or block.

What I want to present to you first is this absolute banger:

What Has She Found? What Has She Found?

by @synnthamonsugar

Read on Ao3

Eris Morn and Mara Sov grow close enough to suffocate on their mission to Outer Sol.

Rating: Gen | Relationships: Eris Morn & Mara Sov, Eris Morn & Oryx | Word count: 1,458

Warnings: none

"If you never want to see me again, I understand," Mara said.

"I won't leave you," Eris replied. She spoke from her heart, tired and aching though it was, but she wasn't sure they could separate themselves from each other even if they wanted.

I’m very biased in favour of this fic, because not only did I get it in early access as a beta reader, but also the title is taken from one of my favourite loretabs and it sounds so powerful and cool. I'm truly impressed by how the characters’ dynamic is navigated and dissected here. Mara has long been a focal point for Eris, her Queen, confidant and friend—and now there she is, cloaked in the form of her worst terror, and what Eris has to do is reach out and save her life, despite all the fear and revulsion she’s feeling. The visceral awareness that Mara is Oryx, just as Eris is part Crota’s kin, and that it will never cease to be so, that Mara will always bear that mark upon her… And that when they lock eyes, there is a whole different history taking place, in which they are only proxies, in which the devotion between them is a vestige of the love between the monsters they destroyed.

She and Mara had become terribly alike, two lost souls saved through the fearlessness to transform into that which sought to destroy them. So perhaps it should have been unsurprising to Eris that when she looked at her friend, cloaked in the form of a monster, that monster looked back and recognized in her the vesage of his dead Son's kin. The sense of familiarity froze the blood in her veins. The feeling of love, a parent's love for their child, powerful enough to rend apart the universe for a second chance, made her want to flee.

A PARENT’S LOVE FOR THEIR CHILD, POWERFUL ENOUGH TO REND APART THE UNIVERSE FOR A SECOND CHANCE……….

(She thought about being in the Hellmouth. The eyes of Crota's brood in her hands, no weight at all, but infinitely heavy, the knowledge of what had to be done making it no easier —)

I think I hauve covid

She had taken the extracted debris and, guided by compulsion whose source she could not name and technique she could not describe, etched memory into its surface. Sent it by ascendant manifold to Mare Imbrium, where Owl Sector rangers or patrolling Hidden would hopefully find it. If she was to die in the far reaches of Sol, she wanted Ikora to have an accurate account of her final moments. There had been enough uncertainty. Too many questions and too much left unsaid. Her parting gift would be closure.

This bit makes me absolutely insane. It combines Eris’ relationship with her own mortality, her relationship with Ikora, and her view of herself; the readiness to die on duty; the very Eris-like resourcefulness even in her next-to-final moments. Gosh. Being ready to die in the outer space, struck by debris, and the last thing she’s thinking about is ensuring Ikora gets closure after her death. 2d8 emotional damage.

Oh and also what this fic has is platonic bed-sharing! Which is like, so important.

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

The Value of a Partner

Summary: Cyno goes on a mission. Alhaitham has a bad feeling and insists on coming with.

CW: Violence, poison, injuries, death (not of a major character), angst, hurt/comfort, brief suggestiveness at the end

Word Count: 2896 or so

AN: I will be forgoing my post on Friday in favor of this, so look forward to "Favorite part of you" parts one and two next week

“So you intend on going alone?”

Alhaitham sits on Cyno’s bed watching the white-haired man pack for a mission.

“Is that an issue?

“It wouldn’t be, but I have a bad feeling about your mission.”

The admission is enough to make Cyno pause and look over his shoulder. “A hunch?”

“Intuition is the mind piecing together information at a subconscious level. Is that so odd?”

“Yes. It is.”

“I’ve heard a bit about Hazm and Amir, the two you’re after and I’ve heard rumors about why you’re hunting them.”

“It’s no different than my usual mission.”

The two men lock eyes.

After a moment Cyno sighs. In his time dating Alhaitham, he’s found that while the scribe really doesn’t often assert the full force of his will, when he does even Cyno is hard-pressed to hold his ground.

“You want me to take a partner?”

“Not a partner. Take me. I’m smarter than half the matra put together and I know you, better than anyone else. There’s no one more suited to watch your back.

Trust, ‘Haitham to be so arrogant, and not wrong. There’s no one I’d trust more to have my back. And if Scribe Alhaitham of all people is citing intuition, I should probably listen.

“Fine. Go pack and meet me in Caravan Ribat in two days.”

Alhaitham stands and presses a kiss to Cyno’s forehead. “Thank you for taking me.”

“For the record, I hope your hunch is wrong.”

“You’ve never hung a mission on a hope. I’ll see you in a couple days.”

“See you in a couple days.”

Two days later the noon sun pounds down on Caravan Ribat.

Alhaitham tucks himself into the shadows of the Wall of Samiel. Despite still being on the forest side, he can already taste the sand on his tongue and feel the sun leeching moisture from his skin. Just a  hint of the misery to come no doubt.

Alhaitham doesn’t have to wait long however.

The sun has barely budged from its exalted place in the sky when a familiar, jackal-hooded head appears.

The scribe throws his bag over his shoulder and falls in behind Cyno. 

Neither speak, instead Cyno motions for Alhaitham to follow him out of the border city.

Once they’re well out of Caravan Ribat, they leave the path and take shelter under a large rock.

“Where are they supposed to be hiding?” Alhaitham asks.

“In the ruins under the Hypostyle Desert. They’ve a small group of Eremites as guards.”

“Typical.”

Cyno pulls a couple of maps out of his bag and lays them on the ground side by side.

“This is the floor plan of King Deshrets’ Mausoleum,” Cyno says, tapping one with a finger. “Based on the information provided in the paper written by the Vahumana scholar, Tirzad.”

“Tirzad’s an idiot, but the traveler was involved, so the information should be accurate enough.”

Cyno raises an eyebrow. “You really don’t like him.”

“I don’t like anyone who spends their lives mindlessly chasing thesis ideas. You know this.”

“We’ll stop for the night at Sobek Oasis, here,” the matra points to another spot, “before entering the mausoleum tomorrow.”

“I’ll just follow you.”

Around sunset, Cyno and Alhaitham are skirting the cliffs of the Upper Setekh, not far from Sobek Oasis, when the wind picks up.

Cyno eyes the horizon before grabbing Alhaitham’s hand and dragging him into a sheltered nook in the stone.

Alhaitham’s vision flares and a wall of greenery separates them from rising wind.

Cyno graces his lover with a small, tense smile and thanks the Dendro Archon for a sensible partner with a useful vision.

After a few minutes, despite the sandstorm that keeps gaining strength outside, the two men relax enough for their shelter to feel uncomfortably small.

They shift around, communicating through gentle touches.

Eventually they find a relatively comfortable position.

Cyno curls up in Alhaitham’s lap, with his hoodless head tucked under the larger man’s chin.

The scribe wraps his arms around Cyno, pulling him close to his chest. “So, I was right.”

Cyno can feel his lover’s smirk against his hair.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Cyno scolds, relaxing into the warm embrace.

“Who me? I would never.”

As the sandstorm continues to howl, Alhaitham brushes his fingers through white hair. “You should get some rest, little jackal. You don’t often get much on a mission like this.”

Cyno’s face heats at the pet names, at the softness that most others in the Akademiya would think their scribe is incapable of, but soon finds himself drifting off to sleep.

Alhaitham listens as the General Mahamatra’s breathing slows and the last of the tension melts from his shoulders.

As much as he loves his work, and as harsh as the desert is, he wouldn’t trade this extra time with Cyno for all the knowledge in the world.

“Sleep, Little Jackal,” he murmurs. “We can continue when you wake up.”

Eventually the sandstorm subsides.

Alhaitham rests a hand on Cyno’s shoulder. “Wake up. The sandstorm is over.

Cyno wakes, immediately alert, and Althaitham takes down the dendro barrier.

They tumble out of their shelter, hitting the sand with an undignified crunch.

Above them, stars stretch across the sky in distant rivers, a celestial map for the people so far below them.

Cyno looks up and for a brief second a small smile pulls at his lips. He stands, shaking the sand out of his hood and placing it on his head, before pulling the rest of their things from the hole. “We should keep moving. We can stop at the Khemenu Temple next.”

At dawn, Alhaitham and Cyno arrive at Khemenu Temple.

There Cyno pulls his partner into the shadow of a wall and sinks to the ground.

He splits some trail rations between them. “Eat. We didn’t have much of a chance last night.”

“Yes, General Mahamatra. Whatever you say, General Mahamatra. I’m not an idiot, Cyno.”

“Sorry. I’m not used to traveling with people who are truly capable of handling themselves in the desert.”

“You’re not used to traveling with people in general. Trust me to take care of myself at least.”

“If you couldn’t, I’d send you back to deal with Kaveh.”

“Cyno!”

Cyno grins and takes a bite of his rations. “Luckily for you, you’re more capable than most non-matra.”

“You flatter me.”

They eat quickly, trading barbs and quick smiles, before making their way into the ruins that dominate the landscape.

Alhaitham can’t deny that being inside the ruins is a relief. The last day has left the exposed skin on his face and upper arms an angry pink.

Inside the mausoleum--though he’d seen something similar during his time with the Traveler--is breathtaking.

What, to the idiot Tirzad, was something to guess at and sneer at, speaks volumes to Alhaitham.

“Alhaitham.”

Cyno stops and glares at his partner.

“Sorry. I didn’t have the time to really study the walls when we were with the traveler. Not as much as I wanted to, anyway.”

“Hurry up.”

“I’m coming.”

Alhaitham tears himself away from the symbols on the walls and follows Cyno deeper into the mausoleum. 

Soon the General Mahamatra leads them into a red-walled cavern outside the giant building’s subterranean floors.

“Where do we go from here?”

“Just follow me.”

Cyno’s pole-arm appears in his hand crackling with violet energy.

Not for the first time, Alhaitham is struck by just how dangerous his boyfriend is and why the scholars of the Akademiya fear him. Not for the first time, he’s glad Cyno’s target isn’t him.

The pair of hunters continue into the underground complex. Their quarry's trail eventually leads them back to the mausoleum, this time to its lowest levels.

“Be careful,” Cyno warns. “This is a good area for traps.”

Alhaitham nods and draws his own blade. “It goes without saying, but I have your back.”

Together they press forward.

The hair on the back of Alhaithaim’s neck rises and he tightens his grip on his sword. The unease that started when he heard about Cyno’s mission, which had abated after the sandstorm, returns threefold.

“”Haitham?”

“I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I.”

Moments later, everything goes wrong.

Alhaitham and Cyno enter a room, only to have its only exit slam shut behind them.

A sickly green smoke boils from a device in the center of the small room.

Alhaitham brings a hand to his mouth, filling it with purifying dendro-power, and reaches for Cyno with the other.

Before Alhaitham can use the same spell on Cyno, though, the smoke has filled the room, engulfing the Matra completely.

Alhaitham catches Cyno before he can fall. “Cyno!”

The scribe takes a gamble, that smoke likely developed by the rogue Amurta scholars could be nullified with his vision, and lets out a flash of green energy.

Luck is with him. The smoke vanishes at the touch of dendro energy, leaving the room’s air clean.

Alhaitham moves Cyno to a corner, gritting his teeth at the glazed-over look in his partner’s scarlet eyes, before turning to face the door.

It opens and two scholars--Hazm and Amir no doubt-- stand in the doorway, flanked by four Eremites.

“They were supposed to be out, Amir!” The taller of the two says.

“You didn’t tell me the General Mahamatra was bringing someone with a dendro-vision!”

Alhaitham clears his throat. “Are you serious ?”

Hazm and Amir share a look as blood drains from their faces.

Alhaitham launches himself into combat.

Two Eremites go down quickly, unable to recover from the sudden attack.

The second two aren’t as easy. Several times, Eremite blades find their way through his guard to leave shallow gashes on his skin.

Never-the-less, it isn’t long before the second pair join the first on the floor.

Alhaitham looks to the researchers, only to find that they’ve escaped during the fight.

“I’ll be back.”

The scribe hurries through the ruins, making use of the little tricks Cyno has taught him and soon he has the two men cornered.

A flick of his fingers has vines wrapping around them.

Alhaitham touches the tip of his sword to Amir’s throat. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing.”

“Try again. What was in the smoke?”

Amir gulps. “It was an herbal extract. In low concentrations it dazes the person breathing. In large concentrations it paralyzes the subject.”

“How long till it wears off?”

“Six hours to…”

“To never.” Hazm finishes. “There’s no point in trying to hide it from the scribe. If Amir mixed it wrong, or if the Grand Mahamatra breathed in too much, it could kill him.”

“Where’s the antidote?”

“We were working on one when our project was shut down by the sages after things went wrong with some subjects. We’re very so--”

Alhaitham knocks them both out. “If he dies, you’ll wish he was the one judging you.

Alhaitham returns to Cyno’s side. He touches two fingers to the smaller man’s pulse. 

Strong enough. That’s good.

The gray-haired scholar gathers Cyno into his arms. Without an audience, the arrogance and level-headedness he’s so known for fades.

“Cyno. I need to wake up. Please. Please. Little jackal. Wake up for me.”

Alhaitham continues to spend the next several hours cradling his lover, trying to wake Cyno up. Eventually he stops trying and starts praying.

Cyno wakes to unfamiliar walls and the press of stone against his back.

“Jackal, it’s been long enough. You need to wake up.”

Cyno groans, forcing his eyes open. “”Hthymm…”

He tries to call out for his lover, but can’t seem to make his tongue work.

Alhaitham’s face appears in his field of vision. His two-toned eyes are wide with worry. “Cyno, you’re awake. Thank the Archons.”

“‘Haitham,” Cyno tries again, this time speaking clearly.

“I’m here.”

“Wha…happened.”

“My hunch, as you would put it, was right. The scholars decided to use the fruits of their research to get rid of anyone coming after them. They almost succeeded.”

“Oh.”

“I confronted them, but they’re alive. For now. I’m half of a mind to get rid of them so that I can bring you to Tighnari. I have the device they used, so he’ll be able to find a remedy.”

Cyno huffs a breath. “How long?”

“Have you been out? I don’t know. I’ve had to eat twice. No more than a day.”

“We should… bring them alive if possible, but…” Cyno takes a breath, hissing when his muscles lock on him.

“Are you in pain?”

He nods.

“Where.”

“Muscles keep locking up.”

Alhaitham narrows his eyes. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the General Mahamatra has the power to pass judgment in dire situations, doesn’t he?”

“Mhmm. I don’t like to. The Akademiya should be the one to pass final judgment But I have before.”

“I can’t carry you back and watch them.”

“I know. There’s not much of an option. Will you be the arm of the General Mahamatra? I can pass judgment, but I can’t execute it.”

“Cyno, the only reason they’re alive is because as long as you’re alive, you have the responsibility to pass judgment. I wasn’t going to interfere by killing them before you could.”

“Prop me against a wall and then bring them here.”

A few minutes later, the rogue scholars are kneeling in front of the General Mahamatra, still tied after their encounter with Alhaitham the day before.

“We’re sorry,” Hazm says. “Please spare us.”

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow. “You nearly killed him and you want him to spare you?”

“We didn’t intend---”

“Enough,” Cyno says, his voice quiet but harsh. “For the crime of attempted murder and the use of banned research, I sentence Amir and Hazm of the Amurta Darshan to death. Alhaitham, if you will.”

Alhaitham’s sword falls and the heads of the Amurta scholars roll. He cleans the blade on Hazm’s shirt and frowns at the exhaustion on Cyno’s face. “Rest while I dispose of these two.”

“Thank you.”

Alhaitham returns, half an hour later, to find Cyno gasping for air. He rushes over and kneels next to the matra.

“Cyno! Breathe. Just take a deep breath. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two three.”

Slowly, Cyno’s breathing regulates and he collapses into Alhaitham.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“It’s different this time,” Cyno whispers.

“What is?”

“This. Nearly dying. Executing necessary judgment.”

Cyno falls silent, his eyes narrowing in thought. “It hit me just how lucky I was that you were here. Hazm and Amir would have left me for dead. Which isn’t unexpected in this profession. But I almost got you killed too. I couldn’t live with myself if I let you get killed supporting me.”

“Almost got me killed? Last I saw, Cyno, I’m still moving. Last I saw, it was me who almost lost you. I know you half expect to be knifed by a target, but I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Al---”

Alhaitham rearranges them to mimic their position in the sandstorm. “No. let me talk. Cyno, love, you’re amazing. Strong, proud, principled, even though your jokes really aren’t very funny. Sometimes you’re too principled. I came with you knowing that something might go wrong. I came with you because something might go wrong. If it’s OK for you to risk yourself for your duty, then I’m allowed to risk myself to make sure you come back. Don’t beat yourself up for almost killing me, because that clearly didn’t happen.”

“I was scared,” Cyno admits, after thinking over what Alhaitham said. “Afraid that I was going to lose you, but for the first time, afraid that I was going to leave you behind. I thought I would be able to accept death and not fear it, not if it meant doing my duty. But I was scared.”

“That’s not a bad thing, Cyno. It makes you human just like the rest of us.”

“I don’t like being scared.”

“Neither do I. But I was. Losing you terrifies me. And looking at your face, I still might if you don’t rest. We should sleep and when we wake up, we’ll get out of here. Alright?”

When Alhaitham looks down, Cyno is already asleep.

Four days later, Cyno and Alhaitham approach Caravan Ribat. Cyno leans heavily on the taller man.

One of the Guards calls out to them. “General Mahamatra? Scribe Alhaitham?”

“You. Take this--” Alhaitham shoves the smoke device into the guard’s hand, ”--and send it to Tighnari at Gandharva Ville.. Tell him the General Mahamatra has been poisoned and that I’ll be taking Cyno back to Sumeru City.”

“The--Yes, sir! The guard runs off and Alhaitham guides Cyno through the town.

On the forest side, Cyno forces Alhaitham to stop. “Alhaitham.”

“Yes? We’re home. Thank you for bringing us home.”

“No, love. Thank you for letting me be your partner.”

The two look at each other and smile.

“Let me get you to Tighnari. As soon as you’re better, you can thank me as much as you want.”

Cyno snorts at the suggestive look in Alhaitham’s eyes. “Are you sure you don’t just want to traumatize Kaveh so he leaves?”

“Yes. Together.”

“That would be a bonus, but I can see no better way to prove that you’re healthy again. First, let’s get you home.”

“Us. Get us home. Together.”

What neither would have expected, leaving Caravan Ribat a mere week before, is just how precious that one word could become.

[gennyanydots]

Here in Your Arms

masterlist

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x f!reader

Best friends to dating

High school au

It’s gonna hurt a little but then it gets better. I promise.

Written for @roosterforme ‘s Love is in the air TGM playlist challenge

Based off the song “Here (in Your Arms)” by Hellogoodbye

You miss Bobby.

You miss seeing him every day before first period. He’d always meet you at your locker then walk to class with you with an arm sling over your shoulders.

You knew this would happen eventually. It was inevitable that things would come between the two of you. So when Bobby started dating Leanna, you knew your relationship with him would change.

You had grown up together. Your moms were best friends, lived next to each other and everything, so when they were going to have babies within six months of each other, they were so excited for you two to grow up together. Your moms had you do everything together. Coordinating Halloween costumes every single year with a million pictures taken. You started preschool together in the same class. Every vacation your family went on so did Bobby’s. Pretty much every big memory you have from your childhood Bobby was there. The bestest friend you could ever have.

When middle school came, it was a little rough for the two of you. The separation between boys and girls became more and more apparent but Bobby never let that come between you both even making sure to set a specific time for you every single week, best friend Fridays when you would watch a movie together. You told him quite a few times over the years that if he wanted to hang out with his guy friends some Fridays that it would be okay. He stared at you like you grew two heads and told you he would never do something like that. So Bobby would still come over every Friday night for best friend Fridays and that was that.

Sadly high school had put an end to best friend Fridays during football season. Everyone went to the football games in town so it would be weird if you and Bobby didn’t go, so for a couple months every year you’ve had to put best friend movie nights on hold but you still spent the night with some other friends added to the mix.

But now…. now you seem to have to put them on hold again. Leanna signed her and Bobby up for some sort of class on Friday nights for the next 8 weeks. You’re almost positive she did it on purpose. Jealous that you get one night of her boyfriend’s attention all to yourself like he doesn’t make sure to text her back immediately every time.

You knew Bobby felt bad when he told you he couldn’t make best friend Fridays for a while. You’re sure he felt even worse when he saw your face. He tried to backtrack and tell you he could find another night to hang out with you but you told him it was fine. It wasn’t his fault. You felt bad watching him walk home dejectedly but whatever he felt you knew you felt worse. This was much harder on you than him.

Leanna’s taken every bit of Bobby’s attention. No more walking to first period together. No more eating lunch together. No best friend Fridays. Soon no more best friend time at all. Graduation seemed to be coming up so quickly. You only have 67 more days of school. Not that you were counting. You know Bobby wants to head to the Naval Academy as soon as he can. 6 hours away. The farthest you’ve ever been away from each other.

Maybe you should thank Leanna, if anything she’s making it easier to let Bobby go. Sort of like a trial separation.

You spent time with other friends to make the Friday nights feel less lonely. Your mom let you know that first Friday of Bobby and Leanna’s cooking class that Bobby stopped over to see you but you were out at a movie with a group of your close girl friends. Your mom told him he could come back Saturday morning but he never showed. You’re not sure if you’re surprised or not.

It’s weird to see a friendship dying in real time. There wasn’t anything you could do about it but let go. You’d see him every once in a while, he still lived next door to you after all, but you just never talked. His girlfriend was always there. You’d give a half hearted wave and that was that.

After 6 weeks of missed best friend Fridays you’re pretty sure even after this class thing ends you won’t see Bobby anymore, so when week 7 came along you were pretty shocked to see Bobby at your front door almost immediately after school.

“Hey princess,” Bobby says with a smile, calling you the nickname he gave you when you were both five and your mothers decided you would be a prince and princess for Halloween. He has both hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Hey Bobby,” you say moving out of the way for him to come in.

“Oh my goodness gracious! Do my eyes deceive me or is that Robert Floyd back in our house?!” You mother says dramatically.

Bobby blushes and laughs, “Yeah, sorry, I was in some cooking class but I don’t want to do that anymore.” He looks over at you for your reaction and you just look at him questioningly then he mouths, “Later” to you and you nod.

“Not sure what you need some cooking class for, your mothers been teaching you since you were little. The both of you,” you mom says with a huff then gestures to the stairs, “Alright you two head on up and I’ll call you when the pizza is here. You know where the soda and snacks are.”

“Thanks,” Bobby says as he heads upstairs.

Your mom shoots you a look once Bobby is out of her sight and you shrug, “I don’t know.” You follow after him up the stairs and find him already laying on your bed with his hands behind his head and eyes closed, like this is normal. Like he hadn’t missed the last six Fridays together.

You lean against your door frame, “Well don’t you look comfy.”

“I have told you time and time again that your bed is superior to mine,” he opens one eye and makes grabby hands towards you.

“Yeah, I’m not laying down there with you. Pretty sure your girlfriend already hates me,” you say with a huff and sit in the saucer chair that’s in the corner of your room.

Bobby shrugs, “Don’t know who you’re talking about. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

You grab the pillow from behind your back that sits on the chair and throw it at him, “Explain yourself, Robert!”

He laughs and sits up holding his hands out in front of him, “Okay, okay! Don’t throw things at me!”

You pick up a shirt from your floor and ball it up then throw it at him, “Then tell me what happened!”

“We broke up,” Bobby says with a shrug.

“Okay,” you say looking at him with your head slighting cocked to the side. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s a free country,” Bobby says as he lays back down on your bed.

You get up and lay down on your back next to him, like you’d been doing since you were children, and turn your head to face him, “Why did you and Leanna break up?”

“I didn’t like her as much anymore,” Bobby says after sighing.

“You’re the worst at explaining anything,” you say rolling your eyes.

He laughs and sits up enough to lean on his elbow facing you, “We were fighting over something stupid and she said something and I realized she was right and I couldn’t be with her anymore.”

“What did she say?” You ask looking up at him.

“She said I didn’t have enough room in my heart for anyone else. She was right,” he says with a small smile.

“Because it’s full of love for your mama?” You ask with a laugh.

He chuckles, “Yeah princess, love for my mama.”

You beam at him, “So, what movie are we gonna watch?”

“We’re watching as many as we can before we pass out,” he says with a grin. “I have to make up for all the ones I missed.”

After four movies, a pizza, sodas, and two bags of popcorn you both fell asleep on your bed. Your mom chuckled when she checked on you both, seeing you wrapped up in each other’s arms with snacks strewn about. She cleaned the ones off the bed and threw a blanket over the both of you before kissing each of your foreheads and heading to bed with your father.

You wake up to the feeling of someone nuzzling into your hair and you try to swat them away. The chest you were pressed against chuckles a few times and the arms wrapped around you hold you tighter.

“Morning princess,” you hear a voice say aloud. You reply back with a grumble and bury your face in the warm chest.

“I’ve missed you. Quite terribly,” Bobby whispers to you. “I knew it but I didn’t realize the extent until I woke up with you in my arms.”

“I like when you sleep here,” you say, or at least try to, while you yawn.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Bobby whispers to you.

You nod and Bobby nudges your chin up with a finger so you look at him.

“Leanna said my heart was too full of love for you. It hadn’t even occurred to me that I loved you like that but it’s true. It hit me so suddenly and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same,” he says with that soft smile of his.

It takes you a second to process, you just woke up after all. You reach up and brush your fingers against his cheek.

You go to sit up but Bobby stops you with a hand on your arm, “Don’t go. Please.”

You smile at him and wiggle your body up so you’re eye to eye with him, “There’s no place else I could be but here in your arms.” You lean down and press your lips against his and he wraps a hand around the back of your neck to hold you to him.

“Finally!” You hear from the door to your room and you both break away quickly and look to see both of your mothers in the doorway.

You both groan and they laugh.

“We were just coming to wake you up. Pancakes are ready,” your mom says with a smile as Bobby’s mom giggles.

“We’ll just be going now. Definitely not to get out the scrapbooks we’ve been making for your wedding since you were both four,” Bobby’s mom says and they both turn and practically run away, giddy with excitement.

Bobby laughs and turns your face back to him and pulls you down for another kiss.

After a few minutes you pull away, “I want to revisit this but I’m hungry and I’m not positive they haven’t started calling venues.”

Bobby laughs, “Would it be so bad to be married to me?”

You shake your head, “No, it wouldn’t.”

Bobby smiles, “At least we have four years before we can get married, per the Naval Academy. Plenty of time to reel them back in and plan the wedding we want.”

You kiss him chastely and smile, “Can’t wait, Bobby.”

[killmongerskeepermain]

When It Was Me // Part 2 // Shuri

Summary: You and Shuri agreed to call it quits when you both wanted to go your separate ways. Her becoming Queen of Wakanda and you becoming one of the most well known celebrity photographers. You had left everything behind in Wakanda. But will a single invitation open the floodgates to everything you fought so hard to bury?

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warning: Angst // Cheating // Mentioned Character Death // Soft Break Up// Angst turned Fluff // Reader ready to snatch a bitch

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: Here’s part 2! Enjoy!

Friday rolls around and you have just finished packing your suitcase. You can’t believe you’re going back to Wakanda. You couldn’t wait to see Nakia, Okoye, and all of your old friends. You couldn’t wait to see her. Smiling to yourself an urgent knock at your door caught your attention. You walked through to the living room and opened your door to see Jessie with a wide grin on her face. 

“Girl, I’m here and I’m ready to go! So who’s plane are we taking? You said we didn’t need an airport.” Right as the words left her mouth the wind picked up and I noticed the wakandan jet hovering over my house invisible to the untrained eye. 

“Our ride is here.” You said as you went to grab your bags. When you came back Jessie was looking around confused.

“Where?” She asked as you nudged her forward so you both were directly under the ship. The ships beamed you both up into the air before you were inside the ship. Jessie stood with eyes full of astonishment and you used your hand to cover your mouth. You could stop the smile as Okoye approached you in her new suit.

“A pleasure to see you again Y/N.” She said with a light bow and you smacked your lips before pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t live in the palace anymore Okoye. We’re friends, remember.” You told her and she brought up her arms to hug you back. 

“Wait, you lived in the palace? As in THE Wakanda palace? With Queen Ramonda and princess Shuri? Why am I just now hearing about this?” Jessie pouted with her arms crossed, mimicking a small child.

“It never came up.” You told her with a shrug as Okoye turned to the pilot. 

“Take us home.” You sat down with a sigh as you thought about what you would do when you reached Wakanda. Would you go see a friend? Would you stop by the palace? You didn’t know exactly what to do. You felt a nudge in your side.

“So what else have you not told me?” Jessie asked and your shoulders shook when you let out a laugh. 

“Some things are meant to be kept a secret.” You told her as your phone rang. You saw it was a FaceTime from Riri and answered. 

“Yall left yet? This is a big event and you two can’t afford to be late.” She questioned with her hair still tied up.

“Yes girl. We’re on our way there now.”

“Good good. I’ll be there within the next hour. My ride should be here soon.” She grinned and your eyes widened. 

“Bitch what? You didn’t tell me you were coming.” Okoye looked over at you for your language and you instantly straightened your posture. “Sorry. I forgot you don’t like bad language.” She shook her head and you turned your attention back to your phone. “See you in a bit." 

Within the next hour you heard Okoye speak out to you. "Y/N. Welcome home.” You stood from your seat and moved by Okoye as you flew past the river border. Your face lit up upon seeing your beautiful nation. The villages were lively, the people all diffraction shades of brown. And the palace. You grabbed your camera and took a quick photo for you to keep at your desk. You noticed you were flying directly to the palace and felt your stomach turn in knots. Was she waiting for the jet to arrive. You cleared your thoughts when you caught her form coming through the door with a dark skinned woman. Her eyes were a dark brown with a hint of curiosity. The woman was anxious to see who her girlfriend personally invited to the event. 

The jet landed and you took a deep breath before standing to follow okoye off of the aircraft. Shuri’s eyes immediately found yours before she moved to bring you in for a hug. “It’s been so long.” You returned the hug and pulled away to greet the woman next to her. 

“Y/N this is Rayven. Ray this is Y/N.” Shuri introduced and Rayven smiled in your direction. 

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” You said holding out your hand recognizing her as the woman Shuri told you about a year back. The one she met at a club.

“You were the photographer for Tony Stark’s after party. I’ve heard amazing things about your work. Can’t wait to see the pics from tonight.” She said to you and you smiled.

“Can’t wait to capture some amazing moments.” You grinned before Okoye called out to you. 

“Y/N I must show you to your room.”

“As in we’re staying in the palace?” Jessie questioned with a wide grin. The girl looks like she could explode any second.

“No, we’re staying in a hotel in the village.” You corrected before Okoye gave a light hum.

“That’s not what the queen told me.”

“That really isn’t necessary, your highness. We don’t want to over step.” You said and she held up her hands. 

“Please. It’s the least I can do for you. For you coming out here and taking photos for us.” She gave you a soft smile. That same smile you fell in love with all those years ago. But now wasn’t the time to let your memories consume you. 

“Alright. Okoye led the way.” You said and grabbed Jessie’s arm before pulling her to behind you. You stared in awe at the decor in the palace as Okoye led you to your room. Your old room. Everything was exactly the same and you felt butterflies in your stomach. 

“I’ll leave you ladies to prepare. Party starts at 7. So that gives you an hour.” With that she left the room leaving me and Jessie to ourselves. 

“You got some explaining to do.” She said, suddenly crossing her arms. You flinched under her gaze and realized you had to give her something. Opening your suitcase you shrugged your shoulders as you went through to pick an outfit for tonight. 

“It’s nothing but history. I lived here at one point. That’s it." 

"So you and the princess didn’t have anything going on? Because I could have sworn-”

“No Jessie. Now come on, we need to get ready.” You cut her off holding up your purple and gold dress. She sighed, finally letting go of the situation before she grabbed her own outfit. Your feelings already betrayed you when you saw her again. Maybe if you can just get this over with you can go back to successfully suppressing them away.

“Fine. But I’m doing our makeup.” She smirked and you felt your eyes widen. She wiggled her shoulders and you knew she was up to something. When the two of you were finished a soft knock at the door alerted you that it was close to 7. Opening the door you’re met with Nakia who was quick to throw her arms around your shoulders.

“Y/N! It is so good to see you. How have you been?” She asked and you nodded.

“Been good. Got a job to do.” You replied holding up your camera with a grin and she smiled. “By the way this is Jessie. She’s my friend and partner for this gig.” The two waved at each other and Nakia looked at the time.

“Come. It’s about to start.” You and Jessie followed behind her to the ballroom. You took a couple of photos of the different guests talking and engaging with one another. You saw Shuri at her table before pointing the camera in her direction. She looked over at you with a smile and you quickly snapped a picture. Just as you went to snap another Rayven leaned into her shoulder and you frowned. You deleted the photo as more people walked up to you asking to have their pictures taken. Once everyone gathered in the ballroom you stood and watched as Shuri walked up to begin her speech.

“Wakanda! It is my greatest honor to present myself as your queen.” She started and you let your eyes drift to Rayven. She was currently standing in a secluded area with an unknown man. The man kept looking back at Shuri before placing a single kiss to Rayven’s face. Your eyes widened and you couldn’t blink as she leaned into his body with a wide grin. Your eyes flickered back to Shuri who had a wide grin on her face. Her eyes found yours in the crowd and you returned a small smile before holding up your camera. Snapping a couple more as she spoke about improving the outreach program. By the time she finished her speech you couldn’t help but stare at Rayven. The bitch really was trying it. The man ducked off as soon as Shuri walked off the stage to with Rayven.

You stood off to the side, watching the couple with a scowl. You burned holes into Rayven’s back and didn’t even realize Riri had approached you. Dressed in all black.

“Shouldn’t you be over there celebrating our girl?” She asked and you turned to look at her with a frown. “Woah. I know that look. What’s going on ma?”

“Remember when I told you ole girl was being a hoe behind your back. And you didn’t believe me until I made her fumble the ball?” You questioned crossing your arms over your chest and she scoffed.

“Yeah. Still can’t believe I fell for that shit.”

“Well, it seems like our girl is falling for it too.” You mumbled and Riri balled up her fist. She couldn’t believe Shuri was being taken advantage of. 

“Hell no we need to go knock some sense into this bitch.” You grabbed her wrist before she could walk away and she turned to you with anger written across her face. “You seriously gonna stand here and let this happen? She’s been through enough already. After her mama.”

“We can’t just stomp over there and be like hey congrats on becoming Queen and it’s nice to see you again. By the way, your girl is cheating on you behind your back.” You stated and she looked down at her feet with a sigh, knowing you were right. “Nah. I got a plan. And I need your help.”

“I’m in.”

“Good. Just pull Shuri away from her. Keep her busy. You know head to the bar, talk about lab stuff.” You said and the younger girl smiled.

“Go get that hoe.” She grinned as you did your handshake before separating from her. You watch Riri link her arm with Shuri before the two walk off towards the bar. Rayven watched the two before stepping away towards the stairs. You silently follow when you notice the man from earlier move to the stairs as well.

You were fuming. This woman has it made and she has the fucking audacity to creep around behind Shuri’s back. You followed loosely behind Rayven to the balcony of the ballroom. There she stood with a man who was quick to grab her waist with a smile on his lips. She didn’t waste time to grip his arms before leaning in to kiss him. You quickly snapped a photo before making your presence known.

“Who would’ve thought?” You started as the two of them jumped away from each other. “That sweet little Rayven was cheating on the Queen of Wakanda.”

“What are you talking about?” She questioned as she feigned innocence. 

“You and this lovely gentleman. Looking real cozy with each other.” You said and she let her pitiful act fall. 

“You should really mind your own business bitch. This has nothing to do with you.” She sneered and you scoffed.

“Shuri is one of my closest friends. This has everything to do with me bitch.” You retorted feeling your blood boil as the man stepped between the two of you. 

“Ray let’s not get too out of hand-”

“Shut up Damien! Besides, who’s going to believe you? You’re just gonna be seen as a troublemaker.” She said crossing her arms and you shrugged.

“Quite a few people.” You smirked holding up your camera. You saw something snap in her eyes and she took a step towards you before a voice interrupted her. You cursed under your breath since you were ready to drag this bitch through the dirt.

“What’s going on out here?” Shuri asked while you and Rayven were staring each other down. Riri was behind Shuri tying her hair up as you nudged the cheating bitch to speak.

“Yeah Ray. What’s going on? I seemed to have forgotten.” You taunted and her nostrils flared. “You’re feeling froggy, leap.” She went to grab you before Damien grabbed her waist. Shuri made her way to stand in front of you as Riri stood close by.

“Yo chill! We can’t do this right now.”

“Tell her! Before I do!” You threatened and Rayven stomped her feet. “Tell her Rayven!”

“Tell me what?” You held out your camera to Shuri as you kept eye contact with the other woman who was noticeably starting to tense. Shuri held the camera staring at the screen with a stone expression. You felt your stomach drop when the camera fell to her side. “I figured as much. You have been acting weird lately Rayven." 

"Wait you knew?” Riri asked with wide eyes still ready to pounce on this bitch.

“Of course. I’m the queen of Wakanda. I know everything. Just didn’t know who the lucky person was.” She stated and Damien bowed.

“My apologies your highness. I didn’t know.” Rayven elbowed him in his side and I scoffed.

“Save it. Rayven, your things are being moved out of the palace as we speak. Now leave my sight this instant.” She mumbled walking to the balcony. Rayven tried to reason with Shuri before you figured you had enough. Grabbing the woman by her braids, you snatched her away from your Queen and pushed her towards the door. She tripped over her own footing and Riri was quick to move by your side when she made a move to rush you.

“Don’t even try it.” She sneered and Damien dragged her back inside. You crossed your arms as you turned to look at Shuri. Her back was to you but you can see the relief in her muscles before Riri nudged your shoulder. “I’m gonna head back inside. Make sure Okoye doesn’t make skewer those two on their way out.” She gave you a look that screamed “go get your girl” before making her way into the building, leaving you and Shuri alone. You slowly walked up to her and looked up at the stars in silence. 

“I didn’t mean for this to blow up the way it did. Especially not here. I honestly wasn’t expecting you to come outside.”

“I noticed you follow her out here. My curiosity got the better of me.” She told you and you swallowed the guilt that was eating away at you. “I suspected her of cheating but I had no proof. So I should be thanking you." 

You couldn’t help the laugh that shook you as she handed you your camera. You held onto it before she turned to look at you. You bit your lip as you looked up to match her gaze. That look. A stare full of love and admiration. She had always looked at you that way. 

"Something on my face?” You asked and she laughed before pulling you in for a hug. You wasted no time wrapping your arms around her, enjoying the warm embrace.

“Come back dearest.” She muttered softly and if you hadn’t been in her arms, you wouldn’t have heard her. “I’ve missed you.” You felt tears sting your eyes as you smiled into her shoulder.

“I missed you too.” You replied as she pulled back. She wiped the tears from your cheeks and leaned her forehead against your own. 

“Can we-” she didn’t finish her sentence and you saw the way her eyes fluttered closed. She’s thinking real hard about her next words and you let her take her time. You were in no rush to go back inside. “Can we try again? We can find you a job here. Maybe with the outreach program so you can still travel to the states." 

She started rambling and you let a laugh leave your lips. She still does that when she’s nervous. You caressed her cheek before pushing your lips into her. She leaned into the kiss and eagerly returned it while holding your waist. The kiss was the spark that lit the fire as the door holding all of your feelings in swung open. You pulled away to catch your breath and gave a small nod. "Okay.” She lifted you off the ground and spun in a circle as you squealed holding onto her. Unbeknownst to either of you that Okoye and Riri were watching from the door. 

“Finally. I would have thrown that girl out of the palace myself if it wasn’t for the princess” Okoye said and Riri took a sip of her drink.

“Yeah. But she got what’s coming to her. But for now, our girl is happy again.”