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im-sleepdeprived · 5 months

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Crazier • Pt. 2

wc: 8.8k (but totally worth it i PROMISE)

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

a/n: part two is here! she's a little long but i swear i've never had so much fun writing and editing a fic so i promiseeee its totally worth it !!! i love this one so much so please pleaseee let me know what you think ! i love talking to you guys (i feel the need to tell yall this is totally a PETER x reader fic you’ll understand but DONT WORRY ITS JUST FOR PLOT BRO)

warning: literally nothing, a few f-bombs, and kids going psycho (in the best way) at school

read part 1 here

The weird, auto-tuned, voice startled you and made you turn around, wiping your eyes so you could see clearly. When you saw who it was you rubbed your eyes again for good measure because there was no way.

"Huh?" you said meekly, mentally slapping face palming for acting so dumb in front of New York's hero.

His head tilted and his masked face shifted in what you could only guess was a grin, "I said can I walk you home? It's pretty dark and I don't really trust the streets and, trust me, I would know. Plus, your crying and being distracted is really dangerous."

"I'm not crying," you were, in fact, crying. It was obvious to both of you. Your red eyes and pink stuffy nose, despite trying to fight the tears so you could get home, only came in harder.

"Ok well I'm just gonna ignore the fact that you're totally lying and ask again, can I walk you home?" despite there being a weird robotic tinge to his voice, you thought he sounded desperate. Plus you didn't really think he'd take a 'no' as an answer. Or if you were even allowed to give him that answer, he was a superhero after all.

So you nodded and his entire posture seemed to relax when you hadn't even realized he seemed tense. Wow, he must take his job seriously. You started walking, silently leading the way as he followed right beside you.

"Can I ask why you're crying?"

"You just did," you replied flatly not really meaning to sound so mean despite the tone you had used.

You sighed, "Shit, I'm sorry Mr. Spider-Man, here you are being all nice trying to make sure I get home all right and I'm being a total ass."

"No it's all right, you don't have to answer if you don't want to I just wanted to make sure everything was alright," his tone was soft, and somehow, despite not knowing him at all, you felt like you could trust him.

"I broke up with my boyfriend," you whispered and you weren't really sure if he would catch it, but he did.

"He must've been real stupid for you to do that, huh?"

You laughed. "God yes," your humor died down and your face fell, "but he was a great boyfriend, y'know, just...before he wasn't."

You passed the cafe that was near your apartment building when he asked, "What'd he do that made you snap?"

You were silent for a minute, debating whether you should answer that or not when you finally stopped in front of your building making him pause beside you as well.

"Well we're here," you slapped your hands together as you stood there awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah. Um, maybe we could chat again sometime, totally friendly, of course," he added the last part rushed, waving his hands slightly. It made you laugh genuinely this time.

"Sure bug boy, I hang out on the roof a lot." you could actually use a friend to talk to after today. "If you're ever swinging by and you see me, you should stop to say hey."

"Really," Peter felt weird, you two had always sat on your apartment roof together, climbing up from your fire escape. And now he'd never get the chance to do it again. Not as Peter at least, but here you were inviting Spider-Man to hang out with you again.

He decided he'd take what he could get.

You smiled slightly and turned around to go inside when he spoke up again, "Wait how does tonight sound?" He asked, and if you didn't know any better you might even say he sounded nervous. That only made you smile more.

"Tonight sounds great," you said., "Oh. And thanks for walking me home. I really appreciate it." You shoot him one last smile before finally turning around and getting inside.

Despite it being dark on your way home, it wasn't that late, it was just winter. You started your homework and worked swiftly, not giving in to any of the distractions you usually did. You wanted to be completely free tonight. Maybe befriending Spider-Man would help improve your grades too.

When the clock struck 9 p.m. and your parents went to bed, you closed your door and silently locked it before walking over to the window and pushing it open.

You grabbed a book and headed up, deciding to read until he got there. It was freezing despite the big sweater you were wearing. After waiting five minutes and him still being a no-show, you decided to go make some tea.

Making your way down, you made two mugs of tea as quietly as you could without waking anyone in the apartment. It didn't take long and soon enough you were carefully making your way up the fire escape again, trying your best not to spill any of the hot liquid.

While you were focused on steadily moving so you didn't spill your drinks, you didn't notice the masked hero sitting on the ledge.

"There you are," his voice startled you but, miraculously, the tea didn't spill, "I've been waiting for like, forever." You had a feeling he rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut up," you handed him a mug, "I was just up here dumbass. But it got cold so I decided to make us something hot."

He used his free hand to put a finger on his chin, tilting his head, as if in thought, "Having trouble deciding if I should be offended you called me a dumbass or flattered that you made me a cup of tea."

You laughed out loud and he felt his heart flutter, the sound a nice contrast to the yelling that had gone down between you two earlier that day.

"Wait so I never got your name," he asked in fake interest. Obviously, he didn't need you to tell him. But you didn't know that.

"Y/N. what's yours?" you asked innocently and it was his turn to laugh. "Ha! Nice try," he joked and you just shrugged.

"Whatcha reading?" He pointed towards the book you had brought up with you, "Business or pleasure?"

You laughed, and grabbed the book, "Definitely pleasure. It's my favorite actually. I've read it too many times to count."

His heart fell a little. Your favorite? How did he not know that? He remembered the cover though..or maybe just the color scheme of it. The more he thought about it the more he realized he didn't really remember the book at all. God, he really couldn't blame you for ending things.

"Can you tell me about it," he asked softly. He loved it when you went on about a topic you loved and all the facial expressions and hand motions that came with your storytelling.

"Are you kidding? I can write a 20-page essay about this book," you scoffed lightly, "but I really don't wanna bore you so it's okay."

"No way! I asked, so how would you bore me. Tell me about it, maybe I'll pick it up from the next bookstore I pass."

So you did. You went on and on about certain themes that stood out to you while reading, and how important some lessons were. You showed him your annotations and notes and he realized you really weren't joking about the '20-page-essay' quip.

He loved the way you were so passionate about the subject and all the thought you'd put into this. But seeing you like this made him realize something, it'd been so long since you'd been like this with him. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't really remember the last time you'd gone on one of these little rants with him.

Some time while you were talking you'd both finished your tea (him only pulling up his mask to the tip of his nose, taking a sip, and quickly bringing it back down. he didn't wanna risk anything), setting the cups far to the side.

He let you finish before talking, "Wow that's a lot to take in, am I the only person who's been fortunate enough to have this wisdom passed onto them?"

You laughed, "Kinda, yeah."

That shocked him a little, at least if you hadn't shared it with him he thought you might've talked about it with MJ. He might not have known much (apparently) but he knew how much you loved to talk about a book after you read it, whether you liked it or not. And the fact that this was your favorite and you'd read it multiple times and hadn't shared it with anyone was weird to him.

"Really? How come? Are your friends not into reading," he asked, trying to be subtle.

You just shrugged, "I don't really have friends," he made a sound of disbelief which made you chuckle before continuing, "I mean obviously I have friends in the traditional sense of the word but I'm not close enough with anyone to just speak my thoughts like that, y'know?"

He tried, he really did, but he could feel the hurt coursing through him, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?

"Really? you seem like the kind of person who has too many friends. What about your boyfriend?"

"ex-boyfriend," you corrected him bitterly, and it left him wondering if you felt that same pang of hurt adding those two extra letters that changed everything.

"Right," he said quietly, "but still, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?" He knew it wasn't his place to ask you such questions, hell it wasn't his place to be talking to you at all, you had made that clear, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't just leave you alone to walk home alone, hurt, and in the dark. And now, he really wanted to know what your answer to his question would be.

You wanted to make a joke about how he was really going at it with the questions but you didn't have it in you. So you just thought about it a little before answering, "Well of course I was comfortable with him, at one point I guess, he wasn't just my boyfriend he was my best friend. And I guess that's what really sucks the most about the breakup.

"He was the only person I shared anything with but it just got to the point where I used to try and talk about anything and he'd just blow me off. It happened a few times before I just stopped altogether, it hurt too much when it felt like he didn't care. I stopped and it was like 'If I don't say anything, I can't get hurt'. If I didn't talk then I wouldn't feel that rejection again and I always had the little part in the back of my brain that said 'Of course he cares but don't say anything, just in case.'

"He's a busy guy, and I get that, I really do. I just never thought he'd get so busy he wouldn't care about me anymore."

You hadn't realized how close you'd come to tears until you felt yourself sniffle, "Shit, sorry," you laughed bitterly, "I didn't mean to get emotional, it's whatever now, it's over."

Peter heard his heart crack. Saying he felt terrible was an understatement. He felt horrendous that he made you feel that way, even worse that he didn't even realize that he did until you just said so.

"God I'm so sorry," he said, his voice feeling weak and he was extra thankful for the new voice-changer he'd been using lately. "He sounds like a total jerk." He was, he definitely was.

You force a little smile, "Oh well," you shrugged, "we'll both move on."

But deep down, neither of you believed that.

You had a long night. Turns out your city's hero had a lot more to him than you'd originally thought. He was extremely funny, always making little remarks about everything, and he was a great listener. Not a boring one either, he asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying.

It was the main thing on your mind that day that you almost forgot the problem at hand. Almost.

Going back to school was something you were dreading. You didn't want to see Peter at all, just thinking about it was totally ruining your mood.

You arrived and headed straight for MJ's locker. You tapped her shoulder, "Heyyyy," you said, making her narrow her eyes at you.

"What happened," she deadpanned and you sighed. You rubbed the bridge of your nose just making her more skeptical.

"Peter and I broke up." You said softly, not meeting her eyes. If you had, you would've seen they were filled with rage.

"What," she asked lowly making you look up. You two were good friends but you didn't really think she'd care much, just because MJ wasn't the best at showing emotions like that.

"Yeah, yesterday after rehearsal I broke up with him. He pushed it too far," you shrugged trying to put it off as nothing but she could see right through your charade.

"C'mere," she slammed her locker shut and interlocked your arms together making you smile in delight. This was so unlike her and you were going to enjoy every moment.

It was like that, your elbows locked together, you beaming and her with a dead-set look on her face as you headed for first period. You were so caught up in the joy of MJ being a little touchy-feely for once that you didn't realize she wasn't actually headed towards class but instead down the hall towards the locker of your ex.

Luckily you caught on while you were still a few feet away, dragging her to a stop in the student-packed hall.

"Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing?" You looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Going to chew out your ex-boyfriend for being a dick," she said as if it were obvious.

You snuck a glance at him just in time to see him swerving his head opposite direction. So, he had definitely seen you. You shook your head, "Mj you can't do that, you'll scare him so bad you'll send him into cardiac arrest."

She cracked a smile at that until she looked in his direction and her face fell again, "No way. I'm gonna beat him into a pulp I swear-"

"Michelle," she tensed as you used her full name, "I'm fine. In fact, I broke up with him." Her shoulders deflated. "I'm not letting him off the hook that easily," she mumbled and you nodded, not really expecting her to. "I'm gonna give him the death stare all day long." She continued.

"And I'm sure he'll turn to stone by the end of the day," you said reassuringly. Her face lifted a little.

"But if he even tries to pull some stupid shit, I will not hesitate," she gave you a look that said 'this is the one thing you have no say over' and you nodded again. Anything as long as she didn't approach him and embarrass the three of you in the crowded school hallways.

She seemed satisfied with that answer, and so you both turned around to actually get to class this time but not before you snuck another glance at Peter who, for some reason, was looking a little paler than a few seconds ago. Even a little..scared? Maybe he heard MJ's threats, you humored yourself, turning your head away from him again. But that was impossible because the halls were way too crowded for him to have overheard you both. Not to mention you were still a ways away from him.

The rest of the day went by easier than you thought it would, with extremely minimal interactions with Peter. none, in fact, after the MJ incident (who had stuck by your side all day like your own personal bodyguard).

Of course, it might've been because you were avoiding him. You knew his schedule well and you knew where he'd be at almost all hours of the day. Even in your shared classes, you'd charmed some other students into switching seats with you so you didn't have to sit beside him anymore.

There was no rehearsal today so you dragged MJ to get ice cream with you, despite her initial refusal. You just needed a distraction, you didn't feel like going home and drowning in your thoughts for the rest of the day so you were gonna stall as much as you could.

You paid for your ice creams and MJ chose a booth in the back for you both to sit at. Once upon a time, you all used to come here as a group (you, MJ, Ned, and Peter) and sometimes just you and Peter alone on simple dates. The memories hurt to think about so you pushed them aside trying to only focus on the sweetness of your chocolate ice cream.

"So why'd you do it," MJ asked bluntly. You looked at her and furrowed your brows, not knowing what she meant.

She sighed, "Why'd you break up with him? I can see how down in the dumps you've been all day, you clearly didn't want to do it, so why did you?" She didn't ask it in a nosy manner, just simply, as if she were asking you for today's date.

You exhaled slowly, trying to buy yourself time because as much as you didn't want to answer her question, you had to. You felt as if you owed her that much with how extra kind and supportive she was acting today, despite that going against her usual personality. And plus, she was your friend so she should know.

"You know how he was MJ, I always told you," you sighed. You look down and start picking at your nails. "He just promised that he'd be there for one of my rehearsals claiming that, since they meant so much to me, he should go to one. And even though I kept telling him no and that he probably wouldn't be able to make it, he promised,

"He promised, and he still couldn't show up. So it just made me start thinking, and if he can't keep his word with simple things like that, how can I trust him with bigger things like a relationship? All the other times he's bailed on me, no explanation, and I'd just feel so stupid and hurt after getting stood up again. And I just snapped I guess."

MJ nodded solemnly as the bell above the door rang. Just out of curiosity, you looked up from your ice cream and you immediately wished you hadn't because walking in was Peter and Ned.

"Speak of the devil," you muttered as you buried your head down, letting your hair cover your face. MJ gave you a confused look before turning around and seeing just what you were talking about. She muttered a few profanities before grabbing your hand and dragging you up by your wrist.

As soon as you stood up two pairs of eyes landed on the both of you and before you could even think about where to run away, Ned was heading towards you with Peter right at his heels.

You cringed and MJ stood up straighter and tensed. You put a hand on her shoulder to remind her to relax and not turn on 'kill mode' yet.

"Hey guys," Ned said smiling big and for a second you thought maybe Peter didn't tell him about the breakup. Until you saw him send a not-so-subtle slap to the back of his shoulder but Ned ignored it.

"Hey Ned," you said softly giving him a tight smile and avoiding Peter's eyes despite feeling them burning holes into your skin. MJ just stood stiffly.

"Funny running into you guys here huh? Me and Pete just came here for a little treat, y'know we need a pick-me-up after that math quiz," he laughed and you forced a small chuckle. You two seemed to be the only ones trying, Peter was just staring at you the whole time and MJ was glaring at him, waiting for him to try something so she had an excuse to pounce.

"Say, aren't you in the same class Y/N? How was the test for you," he asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing but as you opened your mouth to answer, someone else did.

"Well, this has been just great. Not," MJ said which made heat rush to your face. As uncomfortable as you were, you never wanted to be rude to them, especially Ned. He had done nothing wrong and he was only being nice.

"But Y/N and I have plans to be elsewhere so see ya later Leeds. And Parker, you might want to blink before your eyeballs dry out, not that I'd mind," she muttered the last part but you all still heard it so you sent a slap to her arm. She just shrugged as you turned towards Ned, still avoiding even looking at Peter, "Yea it was nice to see you Ned but we do have somewhere to be so we should catch up some other time," you tried more politely.

"Yeah, of course," he sent you another smile as MJ dragged you by your arm out the door and you waved lamely at him. You both stopped as the door closed behind you. you inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves.

"Oh my fuck, that was stressful," you muttered.

MJ gave you a sympathetic look before gesturing to follow her, "Come on, let's find somewhere else to hang out."

you followed her and looked into the window of the shop where you saw Peter and Ned hunched over whispering about something. probably about how awkward that interaction was.

"Come on y/n, pleaseeeeeee," Lexi begged, giving you big, wide, puppy dog eyes.

It was the next day after school and you were currently being bombarded by the whole cast and crew to play a big round of truth or dare with them.

So they sent Lexi to convince you, knowing how close you two were. And also how stubborn she was.

"But we have work to do," you whined pathetically. "Y/N honestly everything is done. and plus, we have one more rehearsal before opening night so if we did miss anything, which we didn't, we'll get it done that day," someone else from the crowd yelled, the rest yelling in agreement.

They were especially laying it on you because Mrs. Lightbody was absent today, leaving you in charge alone.

"Y/N/N, what are you even worrying about," Lexi asked, "you have everything memorized down to a 't'. Like, honestly, if any one of us had to bail last minute you could totally take over because I know you have every part of the script memorized." Everyone else was laughing in agreement and you looked down knowing it was true.

"I mean, come on, isn't truth or dare such a 'seventh grade' kinda game," you tried for measly, knowing that what she said was true, almost everything was ready for the big day and the minor stuff left could be taken care of at the last rehearsal.

"Well if you don't wanna play truth or dare we can always do something else," Lexi offered, giddy at the fact that you might actually agree.

"How about a scavenger hunt," someone suggested.

"Yeah! Me and Jack can write up a bunch of lists of tasks to do and items to gather. It'll take us less than 10 minutes," Lacy offered.

Everyone looked around and you finally spoke up, "Sure why not," you gave in and everyone started cheering, some even whistling, "A bunch of kids running around an empty school? What could go wrong?" you told them, the whole group laughing loud.

Everyone lounged around for a few minutes while Lacy and Jack laid out somewhere on the stage, pulling out a bunch of empty papers and started writing on them. You watched as Jack said something that made Lacy laugh, making a blush form on his cheeks. it had once been like that with me and Peter, you thought, but you tried not to let that bitter feeling seep in again.

As if sensing your distress, Lexi came over and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Hey," she said softly, "maybe this'll be good for you, y'know. You work really hard and you need something to forget about that Parker kid for once. so let's go wild and run around the school a bit." you smiled, thinking about how ridiculous this whole thing really was and how Mrs. Lightbody would endlessly scold you if she ever found out. but you also couldn't help the excitement bubbling in you. this sounded like a lot of fun.

"Yea, you're right," you agreed and you both lounged out on the stairs on the side of the stage until Jack stood up on the center stage and whistled, gathering everyone's attention.

he waited, Lacy beside him holding a bunch of paper scraps, until everyone was close until he began, "Fellow children of theater," he started dramatically, "I hold before you midtown's very first, annual, theater games." everyone cheered and clapped.

"You may gather into groups, as many as you like, just no more than four to a group, please. Now if you will, sort yourselves, and once your group is ready, come grab the paper that will have your tasks from Lady Lacy." He finished and motioned to Lacy who took a bow and everyone clapped once more. Man, you were gonna miss these kids once this play was over.

you and Lexi decided that you were just going to go together but as you were getting ready to get up on stage, Brad Davis approached you two.

"Hey," he greeted with that charming smile of his. Lexi greeted him while you waved silently beside her.

"Mind if I join you two," he asked the both of you, but his eyes were only on you, searching for your reaction to his question.

"Of course Brad," Lexi said, being the overly polite person she was. He nodded but he was still looking at you hopefully so you decided to answer, "Of course, you can join us," you smiled slightly. "After all, three minds are better than two. And I'm sure we'll need the extra help with whatever those two have planned for us," you motioned to the two leaders of this event, making Brad and Lexi laugh.

The three of you made your way to Jack and Lacy to grab a list of tasks. You approached them, "Hey Lace, can we grab a sheet?"

"Of course," she said sweetly. She grabbed a paper then looked down and laughed lowly. you all looked at her confused and she just ignored you, turning to nudge Jack. He didn't help your confusion when he looked at the paper and burst out laughing.

"What? What is it," Lexi asked, stepping forward. Lacy shook her head, "It's nothing, it's just," she laughed a little more, "me and Jack sorta wrote this one as a joke, the tasks on here are hella extreme, and frankly," she looked at you, "I don't know if you can handle it Y/N."

You must've looked taken aback because she quickly added, "I mean no offense, honestly you're so smart that if I had to choose anyone to actually complete these I'd choose you."

"Then why don't you think I can handle it," you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well I know you're a stickler for the rules," she started, "and these break basically all of them."

"Lemme see that," you snatched the paper out of her hand and read it. well, you started to read it, but after seeing the first two tasks, you stopped.

You looked up to see her and Jack fighting off smiles. "I can totally get another one for you for you," she started to reach for the paper but you yanked it out of her grasp. "No, no, no. I'm doing this," you stated.

She and Jack exchanged a look, "are you sure," he asked you weakly. You raised your head and put on a defiant look, you loved proving people wrong, "Yes."

You walked away, Brad and Lexi close on your heels, only stopping in front of the auditorium door.

"Can I see it," Lexi asked? You nodded, handed her the paper, and watched as she read through it. Her eyes widened every time she read something on the list, Brad reading over her shoulder.

"Y/N, I love you but you're crazy," she said. You went to reply to her but just then, Jack was at the center of the stage again.

"Everyone has a task card, each group will try their hardest to complete all the tasks they were given. We will meet up here in an hour and a half and the winning group will be treated properly." He looked down to set up a timer on his phone. "But there is a trick to this," he paused for dramatic effect, "there's is an obstacle my partner and I have withheld from you all,

"We are, in fact, not alone in the school. There was a teacher meeting to be held after school hours and we have a few stranglers still wandering the halls. So you must be careful not to get caught," he smirked and you feel more of that excitement rush through you. You could really use the adrenaline rush this would definitely bring.

He looked up, holding his phone up for everyone to see, his thumb hovering over the green button that would start the timer, "Let the games commence!" he yelled as his thumb hit the button, the numbers already starting to go down quickly as kids started rushing out the doors.

"Oh my god, we are so gonna get caught," Lexi whined, making you laugh. "Well, we aren't gonna win with that attitude, come on Lex, live a little."

"Yeah what she said," Brad laughed and stepped forward to hold the door open for the both of you.

"Such a gentleman," you muttered as you stuck your head out to look down the halls both ways before grabbing Lexi's hand and dragging her after you.

"Read the first one Lex," you whispered as you scouted the halls for any sign of movement.

"'Bring back a lightbulb that is currently being used in one of the rooms in the building'," she read off the paper.

You thought for a second, "Most of the school uses tube lights so where can we get a light bulb?"

The three of you were quiet for a second before Brad piped up, "The library has ceiling fans that use lightbulbs," he suggested, but it sounded more like a question.

You clapped him on the shoulder, "Brad you're a genius." His face seemed to light up at your compliment.

The three of you headed towards the library, running into a few other kids who were also trying to complete their lists.

You quietly opened the doors and motioned for Lexi and Brad to stay behind as you made sure there were no librarians or teachers present. Once you were positive the coast was clear, you let them in and went towards the ceiling fan furthest in the back, in case anyone walked in.

You stood up on the table but you couldn't reach, "Brad, you're tall. Get up here," you instructed and he followed.

"I have a better idea," and before you could ask what it was, he picked you up by the waist and lifted you up to where you could easily unscrew it.

You carefully twisted it until the light gave out and the warm glass fell into your hands. You looked down at Brad, who was still holding you, and smiled, "Thank you."

He smiled back and let you down, both of you stepping off the table. Lexi clapped lightly, "Ok first task done," she grabbed a pen from her pocket and crossed it out. As soon as she lifted the pen from the paper you heard a door close.

You all looked at each other panicked. You brought a finger up to your lips and quietly tiptoed your way between the shelves, leading them to the back exit.

Everything was going smoothly until Lexi accidentally bumped into a chair making it fall to the floor, the metal making a loud noise. You all froze in your tracks as the school's librarian's voice rang out, "Hello? Who's there?"

Quickly thinking, you handed them the lightbulb and ushered both of them to the other side of the shelf as her footsteps sounded closer and closer. Once they were completely hidden from your view you pretended to browse the books on the shelf just as Ms. Smith approached you.

"Oh Y/N, it's just you. What're doing here so late," she asked, her scratchy voice prickling your skin.

"Um well, as you may know, I'm directing the school play that's performing this Friday," you said. She nodded for you to go on, still looking suspicious.

"There's actually a rehearsal today and I managed to find some time to sneak away to the library to get a book," you continued, having no idea where you were going with this.

"You came here this late just to get a book? You know the library is closed at this time of day dear, it's only open during school hours," she said, still sounding suspicious so you knew you had to bring out the big guns.

You sighed looking down, trying your hardest to seem heartbroken, "Well you see Ms. Smith, my boyfriend broke up with me and I just really needed to get lost in a good book to forget how hurt I am," you forced your voice to crack and looked away wiping your eyes from nothing.

"At the 'Greek Mythology' section," she questioned, and you almost faltered. But you were too committed.

You nodded, your lip quivering, "he always used to tell me stories of the Greek myths. And the story of Orpheus and Eurydice," you let out a choked sob. "it's so romantic."

She ate. it. up. "Why yes it is, it's one of my favorites actually. Well, you take your time dear," she rubbed your shoulder as you buried your face into your hands, "and let me know if you need anything else, alright? I'll be up at the front desk."

You just sobbed harder until she left. Once you were sure she was gone, you moved your hands away from your face, which was bone dry.

You went behind the shelf to find Brad and Lexi shuffled together. You had to hold your laughter until you exited into the halls.

You grabbed Lexi's hands and laughed, "Did you see how she totally bought that?"

Lexi laughed with you, "You were really good Y/N, I almost bought it too! And the fake crying? Absolutely genius."

"Yea Y/N, I almost thought you were fresh out of a breakup," Brad added and you laughed again. "That part is actually true," you inform him, "everything else though, was a part of the bit. Peter doesn't know the first thing about Greek mythology let alone the story of Orpheus and Eurydice." you laugh.

"Oh? So Parker's out of the picture," he asked and you just nodded as you read the next task on the paper, not noticing his smile.

You were dead set on doing everything on this list

A little over an hour had passed. You and Brad were currently busy unscrewing one of the circular seats from a cafeteria table. Of course, you had no tools so you had to improvise. You found that if you bent a bobby pin just the right way, it'll do the trick.

You kept twisting the bobby pin until you heard a clattering sound as the last screw fell off. Brad held up the seat as the three of you grinned. You were so gonna win this.

You stood up and opened up the bag with the rest of your supplies as Brad added your new prize. You had stolen a trash bag from the janitor's closet to hold everything for you. As the three of you walked down the hallways holding the most random collection of things, you spoke up, "Lex, what's next on the list?"

She looked down and the smile that was previously on her face quickly disappeared as she seemed to pale a little. "Oh no," she muttered.

"What? What is it," you asked as you all stopped in your tracks.

"It's the last one," she said and you smiled, happy that you'd made it this far.

"Ok so what's the problem," you asked, not really seeing what she was getting at. "Out of everything on this list," she started, "this is the one that will for sure get us expelled."

You and Brad exchanged a look, "Hit me with it."

"We have to steal the principal's desk chair."

"Those little shits," you muttered, your hands clenching into fists. "So that's it right? I mean, we got everything else on here, we don't have to win. We made it further than any of us thought we would," she said but you were already shaking your head.

"We have to win, we are going to win," you were so determined to win this stupid game and you weren't even sure why.

Lexi looked up, closed her eyes, and brought her hands up together, "Dear god, I'm too young to die. my parents would kill me."

Brad laughed as you headed down the hall towards the principal's office. Once you reached where you could see it, you crouched, the others right beside you.

the walls on his side of the office were glass and you could see Principal Morita sitting at his desk. You sighed and turned to face your partners, "I have a plan but it's a little crazy."

"Oh please, this whole thing has been more than a little crazy, just hit us with it Y/L/N," Lexi whispered.

"Ok one of us will have to lure him out while the other two wait behind the door. While he's in the hallway and whoever's with him is keeping him distracted, the other two sneak into the office, roll the chair out the other door, and wait around the corner. Once we're done and completely secure, we send some sort of signal and he's free to go back in."

You were unsure, it was a little all over the place and really risky but they were both nodding at you. "Ok I can distract him, I know exactly what to talk to him about," Lexi offered and you laughed.

You looked at Brad, "Guess it's you and me." You started crawling to the other side of the hall, careful to stay low so Morita wouldn't see you.

"Yup," he muttered, "your regular Bonnie and Clyde." You held in a laugh as you got situated on the brick wall at the side of the office, made sure you were out of view from the door, and motioned for Lexi to go ahead.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, the sound ringing out loud in the quiet hallway. It didn't take long before the door opened and was held right in between you and your school's principal.

"Um, yes, may I help you," you heard him ask.

"Sorry to bother you sir, but I really needed to talk to you about something," Lexi said desperately. "Ok why don't you go ahead and take a seat in my office," he offered. "NO," she cleared her throat, knowing she had said that too loud, "what is mean is, no I can't I'm kind of in a hurry." You heard her take a few steps back. "We should just speak out here."

Mr. Morita followed her, letting go of the door as he stepped forward but Brad grabbed the handle before it could close. He held it open for you as you crawled in and he followed behind before quietly shutting it after him.

You two crawled up to his office careful not to be seen since this side of his office wall was made of glass. Currently, his back was to you and Brad while Lexi was facing you but was careful not to let her eyes wander and betray her.

"Ok," you silently opened the door, "we'll need to pick it up until we round the corner because the noise of it rolling would definitely catch his attention."

"Alright I can handle that," Brad said as he grabbed the legs of the chair and stood up but you motioned for him to stop. You moved out the door and peeked your head around the wall the tiniest bit. You saw Lexi passionately going on about something and from what you could see of Morita, he looked a little uncomfortable. You made a mental to ask her later what she was going on about. Once you were sure that Mr. Morita wouldn't see you, you stuck your hand and made a 'shooing' motion.

You weren't sure if Lexi would see it or not but she must've seen it from the corner of her eye because she moved so that she was facing the hallway you had to go down head-on, making Morita turn even more as he listened to whatever it was she was rambling about.

Now, with his back directly towards you and the new direction you were headed, you both left the office and you silently shut the door. Brad quietly put down the chair, "Get on," he ordered. You looked at him a little confused as he tried again, "Come on, it'll be fun."

Hell, you'd already done way crazier things today than you ever thought you would. One more couldn't hurt. So you sat on the chair as he picked it up and walked down the hall. You had to hold in your laughter.

Once he turned the corner he set you down, stuck his head out, and shot Lexi a thumbs up. Less than a minute later, she approached you guys. "Go before he sees us," she whisper-yelled.

You were still sitting in the seat and Brad took it upon himself to push you through the halls. It was such a rush, laughing in the chair with your hair flying around you, two of your newest best friends right behind you. It was one of those moments that you knew right then and there how special it was and how much you cherish it in the years to come, all the moments from today actually. You never would've participated in something like this. Ever. It was fun to be pushed out of your comfort zone, to loosen up a bit. And it was especially fun to do it with these two.

You all arrived at the side doors of the auditorium breathless, you from laughter and Brad and Lexi from the running and laughter.

"Oh. my. GOD. I can't believe we actually pulled that off," Lexi said, smacking her forehead, eyes wide.

"Hell yeah, we did," you looked at Brad and grinned as you held out your hand for a high-five. "Lex," you turned towards her, "time?"

She looked down at her watch, "Ten minutes before the deadline," she smiled. She opened the door for the three of you and you all walked inside, extremely proud of yourselves.

The auditorium was empty, to your surprise, with only you three and Lacy and Jack working on something up on stage. You all walked up the steps, "Hey guys," you spoke up.

They looked up a little confused hearing your voice, "Oh hey Y/N," Jack said, "done already?" you nodded casually and looked down picking at your nails, peeking up to see the shocked expressions on their faces.

"No way," Lacy whispered, "there's no fucking way you could've done all that." She said, louder this time.

You looked up, as if in thought, and put a hand on your chin, "Really lace?" Brad brought up the bag, he had stashed it in a hallway while you did your little office heist and the chair. "Cause I thought I just did," you smirked.

They stood with their mouths agape while the three of you just grinned at each other.

"Well I'm impressed," Jack said as he looked at you and your friends, "can't wait to announce the winners!"

The three of you sat on the edge of the stage while the rest of the groups piled in and handed their lists to Lacy and Jack so they could assess them. Soon enough, everyone had filed back into the auditorium and after a few minutes, Jack shooed everyone off the stage so he could make his announcement.

Once everyone was standing below the stage, Jack walked up to the center as he had done almost 2 hours before. "Students of Midtown," he bellowed, "I come to you with news of your latest adventure. We have gone through everyone's task list and the little prizes they brought back. I'm disappointed to say that only one team completed every task given to them."

Murmurs broke through the students as they wondered which group could've finished everything in so little time. You turned toward Brad and Lexi, "Wait we finished everything so does that mean-"

"I'm pleased to announce, however, the winners of the scavenger hunt. Y/N Y/L/N, Lexi Walker, and Brad Davis, congratulations!" Applause shattered all around you while you, Brad, and Lexi were hugging and high-fiving.

"Get on up here," Lacy shouted. You three were pushed forward by the other kids. You all walked up the steps and stopped in the middle of the large stage. Lacy and Jack turned to grab something and when they were facing you again, you saw what it was and you laughed. They were holding three makeshift crowns, made of cardboard. They were colored yellow (probably with a Crayola marker) and had big colorful jewels glued on the tips.

"Do you like em,'" Lacy asked with glee, "Me and Jack made them while everyone was out."

"I love them," you told her truthfully. The two of them approached your group and crowned you all separately as you stood in the middle with Lexi to your right and Brad to your left.

Jack stepped back, "Ladies and gentlemen, fellow students of Midtown High, let's hear it for the first winners of our very own theater games!"

Applause and cheering roared all around you. You smiled but then remembered something. Leaning to the side towards your friend, you whispered, "Hey Lex, what were you talking about with Mr. Morita, y'know, when you had to distract him for us?" She grinned at you evilly. "I told him that all the girls' bathrooms in the building should have a handful of free menstrual products because incidents happen every day and distract us from our schoolwork."

You threw your head back laughing as she laughed along with you. "Lexi! What did he say?"

"He got so flustered I barely kept him out of his office as long as I did." She told you and you laughed even more. "I can't believe you had the confidence to actually do that," you choked out between fits of laughter. Everyone was still clapping below you. She only shrugged, "Someone had to do it. I was just fortunate to be handed the opportunity." She said it so wisely, you didn't know whether to laugh some more or solemnly nod.

You looked down at your watch and realized rehearsal had actually ended a few minutes ago. You stepped forward, "Thank you, everyone, really. I hope you all had as much fun as I did because I had a blast," you looked back at your friends and smiled, "but, as you know, all good things have to end. It's getting late and before we all start heading home I wanted to talk to you all about something,

"The day after tomorrow is the last rehearsal for us which really sucks because I always look forward to these things. No, seriously, sometimes they're the only thing to get me through the day." Chuckles and little shouts of agreement spread around the group, "And the day after that, is the long-awaited play we've all worked so hard on. And as much as I can't wait to see how amazing everyone's going to do," you looked at Lexi, who smiled right back, "I'll miss seeing your faces every day so, please, if you see me in the hall or in class or something, don't be a stranger. And at our next rehearsal, Mrs. Lightbody will definitely be back so I expect everyone to keep their mouths shut about today. Or none of us will live to make it to opening night."

Everyone clapped with a few people yelling things like "wWe'llmiss you too Y/N" and "Don't worry, this won't be the end of us!" that last one was Jack being as dramatic as ever. You laughed, "Great, now everyone, get your asses home before I get kicked off the cast for keeping you all too late."

Everyone was running around getting their things ready and you were about to do the same when you remembered something. "Hey Lace, Jack," you called them over, "what are you gonna do with everything?"

they looked at each other and smirked before looking back at you, "oh don't worry Y/N, that's for us to worry about." he told you, setting unease in your mind.

You chuckled stiffly, "Um, well, be careful I guess?" They laughed, "Of course we will Y/N/N." Lacy said.

"Ok, well then I'm gonna get going now, bye!" You waved at them and they both waved back. You stepped off the stage, grabbing your bag from the corners of the steps where you'd left it. You were almost at the door when you heard your name being called. Turning around you saw Brad

"Oh, hey Davis," you smiled. "hey Y/N. I was wondering if I could walk home with you," and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little nervous.

You laughed, "Of course, you can Brad," you started walking out the door, "unless you're trying to kidnap me then no." you deadpanned, making him laugh. He put up both hands, "Hey, my criminal record is clean and I plan on keeping it that way."

You were outside now and the roads were wet. Apparently, it had rained while you guys were getting it crazy back at school. You fake pouted, "Ugh, that sucks. I have a thing for bad boys," you smiled up at him widely. He dramatically threw his head to the side, getting rid of the hair that had fallen on his face. "Well, I'm as bad as they come."

"Oh?" you questioned, raising a brow. He nodded and leaned in, putting a hand to cover his mouth as he whispered in your ear, "One time, I was trying to parallel park between two cars and I accidentally hit one of them so I got scared just and left."

You burst out laughing, "Oh my god, I was not expecting that. BRAD! you committed a hit and run!" You laughed some more as he just shrugged, "What can I say? I'm just that cool." You fake swooned on him, throwing a hand on your forehead, "Oh my goodness Brad Davis, take me now!"

he laughed as you pushed yourself off him, laughing along with him. It was like that for the rest of the way and you realized how funny he was. He went along with all your bits (which was always appreciated) and made some himself. The walk went by quickly and was over faster than you would've liked.

You stopped in front of the door to your apartment building, "Well this is me." Brad stopped beside you. "Y'know," you started, "you're way cooler than I thought Davis."

He laughed, "Glad you finally figured that out. Maybe we could do this again sometime?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I think I'd like that." He grinned, "Great." you two sat there just staring at each other for a few seconds, the only sound was water hitting the ground as it fell out of gutters, and when he looked like he was about to open his mouth and say something, a car honked and splashed the two of you, leaving the two of you soaked from the side.

You squealed in surprise and laughed. "Holy shit! Well, my socks are ruined now." Brad laughed along and you missed the twinge of disappointment coating his features. "Well, see you tomorrow Brad!" you waved at him as you turned to walk into the building.

As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the excitement still coursing through you. Maybe Spider-Man would pay you a visit. You had a lot to share after today.

read part 3 here !!

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rispwr · 1 month

Text

Stranded - JK - ONESHOT

Pairings : bestfriend!jk x bestfriend!reader

contents : kissing? and a lil bit of bickering that's probably it

genre : fluffff

context : You and your bestfriend reunites again after a long year of you two not talking decided to go on a trip, and he forgets to get gas, get's stranded on the road,due, failing to reach the gas station, Leaving unsaid words be spoken.

(basically he confesses to you)

"are you okay??" he asks me worriedly, patting my back, trying to calm me down.

"you're telling me, we fucking drove for hours and hours with literally fucking 4-5 bars and forgot to get fucking gas?" i snapped

"well i'm sorry?? what's done is done y/n. let's just wait for the people i called to come, i called already. plus you were so noisy that i even forgot to get gas" he replied trying to assure me

"oh so it's my fault no-" Before i could utter another word, he stepped closer, closing the distance in an instant. His hand cupped the side of my face, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.

There was a brief moment where time seemed to stop, and then he leaned in.

His lips met mine with a sudden, undeniable force, cutting off whatever i was about to say.

The kiss was firm, insistent, and full of a longing that had been building up between us for far too long.

The pressure of his lips was both surprising and electrifying, as if he was pouring every unspoken word, every pent-up emotion, into that one, searing kiss.

For a heartbeat, i was too stunned to react, my mind spinning as the world narrowed down to just the two of us.

But then, the shock gave way to something deeper, something primal and undeniable.

my hands, which had been resting at my sides, found their way up to his shoulders, gripping them as i kissed him back with equal fervor.

The intensity of the kiss grew, a desperate need fueling the way our lips moved together, as if we were trying to make up for all the lost time.

His other hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer, and i responded by pressing myself against him, our bodies fitting together as naturally as if they had been made for each other.

The kiss was a dance of give and take—his lips commanding and mine's responding with a passion that matched his.

The heat between us was palpable, our mouths exploring, tasting, and claiming each other in a way that left them both breathless. my heart was pounding in her chest, each beat echoing the rhythm of their shared desire.

When we finally broke apart, it was only because we had to, both of us gasping for air, our foreheads resting against each other.

our breaths were ragged, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. But the look in our eyes said everything that needed to be said—our connection was undeniable, and there was no going back.

"shhh. just relax baby" his sweet and gentle voice whispered to me making me slightly pull away from the hug and rest my back on my seat.

there was a brief of silence before he spoke.

"i like you y/n" he said, making me shock quite a bit.

"i mean no- i love you" he adds, holding my hand looking into my eyes.

"you like me?" i ask maintaining eye contact.

"no. i love you" he replies, looking down trying to hide his rosy cheeks.

"reallyyyy??" i asked, my voice breaking down in awe, as tears stream in my eyes.

"why are you crying??" he cups my face, his thumb gently caressing my cheek "cuz you love me" i replied, hugging him tightly

"so much" he whispers in my ear, tightening his hug on me.

"you're so cute omygod" he chuckles, making me flustered.

"i don't wanna be just your friend y/n, i wanna be more than that. I want you to have my kids in the future, be my wife, my bestfriend, my girlfriend, partner in crime, be forever mine y/n," he holds my hand looking at my in the eyes, his other hand cupping my cheeks, his thumb caressing my cheek.

"have a house with you, cook pancakes and bake with you, have wine dates, car rides but not like this again. i love you so much" he added.

"i-i don't know what to say kook.." i cried

"it's fine love. just tell me when you're ready." he assured me

"yes i do kook. i wanna have your babies, be your wife, be yours, be your bestfriend, be the bonnie to your clyde. i'm ready for everything with you kook." i spit out

"i wanna be yours.." i added, giving him a peck on the lips.

suddenly an unfamilliar voice squeals in awe "aweeee, you guys are so cute ackk" said. we turn to look at the open window seeing the tool guy holding a gas pump ready to put gas in our car, watching us.

"omg congratulations!!" the man squeals in awe.

"oh! how long have you been standing there sir?" jungkook asks.

"i was enjoying watching you both. SO CUTEE!!" the man replied. "so can i pump gas now?" he added switching his tone into serious, making me and jungkook burst into laughter.

#jungkook #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #bts #bts x reader #rispwr #jungkookbestfriendau

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pupkashi · 1 year

Note

gojo taking care of you when you get your wisdom teeth out !!

I’ve never gotten my wisdom teeth taken out so idk how accurate this is sorry y’all 😭😭 also idk if i like this or not but i hope this was okay </3

he’d be so caring and sweet but he’s also be such a little shit about it 😭😭😭😭

you’re still high off the anesthesia and pain medicine when he’s helping you into the car, face swollen as you mumble an incoherent ‘thank you’ when he buckles your seatbelt on for you.

“i just think if we got one it would solve all of our problems” you frown, thoughts a jumbled mess, but your reasoning seemed sound.

“sweetheart you’re being unreasonable” he sighs, “and plus think of how impractical it would be!” he’s so desperately trying to stop himself from bursting into a fit of laughter at how absolutely appalled you look at his replies.

“how is it unreasonable?” you demand, voice stern as you stare at your lover.

“sweets were talking about owning a bear” you’re pouting as he draws the reality of it out for you, your head hanging low in defeat as you accept the situation.

“you’re right, I’m sorry” you sigh, “let’s get a ferret!” your eyes lighting up as satoru smiles at you, mumbling something before he’s shaking his head at you.

he would ask you how much you love him just hear you go on and on and on about how you’d give him the world and fight every higher up for him to get the rest he deserves.

he would ask you the most outlandish and insane questions just to hear what the hell you have to say, knowing that if you we’re completely lucid you wouldn’t even entertain the thought.

“-but yeah that’s why i think i was a mouse in my past life” you mumble, “are the walls moving for you too by the way?”

he’d spoon feed you and get you all the snacks you want (that you can actually eat) and cuddling you endlessly. he would just carry you around the entire house because he doesn’t want you to waste your energy.

he’s very unserious but he would be the best to take care of u, making sure you take ur medicine down to the minute and make sure you get enough rest <3

#hope this was okay !!#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru drabble #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo drabble #gojo satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen drabble

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rattlyglitch · 10 days

Text

The Breaking of a Apple

(tell me whatcha'll think of this in the the comments. Hope you enjoy I was waiting the whole time I was writing to get to this part of the story)

It was nearing the end of the third week since Epel talked with Vil. Rook seemed desperate and Epel often saw him talking with Vil. He looked distressed every time they spoke. Like he was screaming out for help but couldn’t get any. Epel knew that wasn’t the case but the last thing he wanted to do was approach Rook about what he was thinking and end up being forced to talk with Vil.

The others also seemed to stop trying to talk to him about the situation and let it be. Epel knew they would and was glad it happened sooner than later. Cater had only approached Epel to try and see if he was ok to which Epel simply replied yes.

The orange-haired influencer didn’t even push Epel to talk about what had happened when he visited the spelldrive museum which was an added plus. Another thing that was a good thing was that Epel had been able to practice his magic more at night.

Vil always had been strict about making sure Epel went to bed at ten and wasn’t practicing magic past eight but since he hadn’t approached Epel he had been able to work on his normal magic and his unique spell. His durability and ability to hold the coffin that Epel used would help if there ever occurred another problem like the one that had happened when visiting Nobel Bell College. That sure was a scary time but they all made it out in the end.

Epel had decided to have lunch in the courtyard when Rook approached him. “Epel, can you please come with me? I wished to talk with you.” Epel placed down his lunch. “Sure, is here fine or do you want to go somewhere private?” Rook looked around and there was a lack of students in the courtyard for sure. “Here is fine.” Rook sat next to Epel and gave him a stern look. “We need to talk about what happened at the museum Epel.”

Epel could feel his own disappointment when Rook said those words and stood up. “Rook, it's fine. It’s blown over and maybe by sometime next month me and Vil should be back to talking. Anyways I should start heading to my next class.” Rook grabbed Epel’s wrist before he could leave. I’m sorry Monsieur Crabapple but you aren’t going anywhere.” Epel looked at Rook confused. “What do you mean?” Epel could hear the yelling of three people from behind him. “You need to talk with him now. This isn’t being discussed about or ignored” a familiar beastman said.

Epel turned around and was surprised to see Jamil and the now-graduated Leona escorting Vil over to Epel. Epel didn’t stay still though he tried to get Rook’s tight grip around his arm off but the hunter seemed to be holding onto him like his life depended on it. When Vil looked at Epel neither of them said anything. Epel wasn’t sure if he should say hi or wave so no reaction was the best reaction he could come up with. Rook looked between the two of them before beginning to talk.

“I know since the museum incident neither one of you has been on good terms. It hurt my heart to see the two of you shoving it under a rug which is why I enlisted the help of Jamil and Leona.” Epel wasn’t sure whether he should give the two of them a death glare or raise his middle finger at them. He knew disappointingly though that Rook looked prepared for both of those outcomes and paused for a moment before Leona started the conversation again.

“It’s not good to leave family issues like this unsolved. Look what happened to me or Idia or Malleus. Someone is going to get hurt if this keeps up.” Epel glared at Leona. “No one's going to get hurt. If we just let it pass it'll be like it never happened for the most part.” Leona gave a tired sigh at Epel’s response and pintched his brow. “You both seem to think that but that’s not the case.” Vil looked at Leona. “I never thought that exactly. I was hoping Epel would open up to me about the situation." Leona rolled his eyes at Vil's response

“Epel was most likely too nervous to talk with you about it. You need to be the one to initiate the conversation Vil. He is your underclassman and can’t exactly read your mind.” Epel felt like everyone’s attention was turned to him when Rook spoke again. “You know you can always come talk to us Monsieur Crabapple if you need to. You have no reason to be nervous.” Epel looked at them all confused “I wasn’t nervous. If you want my honest opinion I didn’t think Vil would want to talk with me after everything that happened.”

Epel looked away from the other four. He didn’t want to see their reactions to what he said. A gentle hand was placed on Epel’s wrist replacing Rook’s. He looked up to see Vil. “Epel, why wouldn’t I have wanted to talk with you?” Epel lowered his gaze. “I ruined your image. My mom ruined your dad’s so it would have been the same for you.” Vil’s gaze softened as he looked at Epel. “You being revealed as my brother would have caused shock but I highly doubt it would have ruined my image. You didn’t need to stay away.”

Epel looked at Vil and saw the pity. It was those same pity stares Rook had been giving him. It was those same pity stares the villagers had given him. It was those same stares that told him he was a poison. Epel ripped his wrist out of Vil’s grip harshly and held it in his hand as if it had just burned him. “Y-you’re lying. I know you are. Th-there’s no way you're not.” Vil reached his hand out to Epel who only backed away from it more.

“I know you’re lyin! I’m a poison to you jus like ev'ryone else! So jus say it! Say I’ma poison to you! SAY IT AND STOP LYING!” Vil looked worried or scared when he looked at Epel. He didn’t care though he knew what Vil was thinking and hugged himself tightly trying to ignore Vil. “Epel you’re not a poison. Who’s been telling you that?” Epel shook his head. “Stop it! Stop lyin! No one else in my town hid the fact I was a poison! So stop it please. JUST ADMIT I AM! ADMIT IT DAMMIT!”

Epel gripped his sleeves and started laughing hysterically. He was sure it was tight enough to rip but he didn’t care. After the laughs came coughing and it felt like something was leaking from Epel’s mouth and dripping off his body.

“IT'S FUNNY REALLY. I'VE BEEN A POISON SINCE THE DAY I WAS BORN SO STOP ACTING LIKE I’M NOT! I HURT EVERYONE!”

#epel felmier #jamil viper #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #rook hunt

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jjsmaybank20 · 1 year

Note

could I pls request sidney Prescott x fem!reader in scream 4 and 19 year old friend of jill? Need her so bad bro 😩

Best Friend's Hot Cousin

Sydney Prescott x Fem!Reed!Reader

Summary: Who knew your best friend's cousin was so hot? Plus, Ghostface is back.

Warnings: R gets stabbed, my terrible writing

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Sorry, it's not my best work! Sorry it took so long, I kind of rushed it at the end there.

navigation scream masterlist

---

Your sister was driving you and your other friends to school, so she had woken you up early by throwing a pillow at your face. As you grumble that you’re up, she smacks you again, causing you to leap up, grab her waist, and throw her on your bed.

“I said I was up, Kirb. Chill the fuck out.” Kirby scoffs, grabbing her keys as she moves to head downstairs. You follow after your little sister, hopping in the backseat. You guys take off down the street, accidentally speeding past Sheriff Dewey Riley.

Kirby curses to herself while you yell, “Sorry, Sheriff!” out the window. You reach your destination with no other incidents, and Kirby honks the car horn to get your friends, Jill and Olivia, outside and into the car. Jill comes outside quickly, hopping in.

Right away, Kirby begins defending herself. “Okay, so, don’t get upset. Trevor called me last night.” Jill groans, and you laugh. “That fucker is really desperate. J, you dated a clingy bitch.” Jill ignores you, opting to question Kirby more.

“Why’d he call you?” Kirby shrugs, replying, “He knows I have your ear.” She then looks across the street, muttering, “Where’s Olivia?” When she honks a second time, Olivia finally jogs to the car. She joins in on the conversation, but you just space out until Jill’s phone begins to ring.

She picks up, confused as to why this person was calling her, and is only on the phone for a few seconds. When she hangs up, she announces that it was a prank call. You go back to spacing out until you arrive at school. You go through the day in a haze, until you and everyone else in your class gets a notification.

Glancing down at it, you see the announcement that two of your classmates had been murdered. You quickly escape class, finding your sister and her friends. While talking to them, you find out that the prank call that Jill received this morning had been from one of the dead girls' phones. As you were talking, she received another call.

As she was on the phone, her face visibly paled and she started talking more hurriedly. Kirby snatched the phone from her and put it on speaker, wanting to hear what the caller was saying. They just catch the end of what the distorted voice is saying. “I pick you. Don’t disappoint me.”

You and your friends sit in silence for a second before you pull your phone out of your back pocket. “I’m calling Dewey.” Jill and Kirby nod, the former still in shock at the phone call she had just received.

---

You sit in the interrogation room with Kirby, Jill, and Olivia. Dewey enters the room, quickly followed by Jill’s mom and the prettiest woman you have ever seen in your life. Your jaw drops, and you can’t stop yourself before you mutter, “Holy shit.”

Apparently you weren’t as quiet as you thought, because the woman’s face turns a light pink and your sister lets out a snort. Your face turns bright red, and you put your head in your hands in embarrassment.

Jill tries to move past your embarrassment, turning to the woman and exclaiming, “Sydney! How are you?” Your face becomes even more red when you realize that this is your best friend’s cousin. The one who was coming to stay with her for a bit. Of course the super hot lady had to be your best friend’s cousin.

Sydney rushes to Jill's side and grabs her hand. She seems oddly composed, and she replies, “Under the circumstances, not spectacular. But you’re safe. Dewey is going to do all he can to keep you and your friends safe.”

Jill glances over at you and Kirby. “Kirby and Y/N’s parents are out of town. Can they stay with us, mom?” Ms. Roberts nods, and you grin at your sister. You always enjoyed staying over at Jill’s house, and now it was going to be even more awesome with your new sudden crush under the same roof.

---

When you arrive at the Roberts household, you quickly call dibs on the open guest room. Kirby groans, knowing that she was going to have to share a room with someone now, but she lets you have it. Jill comes to her rescue by offering her a spot in her room, leaving both you and Kirby happy.

As you unpack your things, you hear someone coming into the room behind you. You assume it’s Ms. Roberts, so you say, “Do you need something, Ms. R?” When you turn around, you come face to face with Sydney.

“Oh! It’s you. Did you, um… did you need something?” Instead of answering you, Sydney moves forward and sits on the guest room bed. You try to keep the pink creeping up your face down, but it clearly doesn’t work as Sydney lets out a giggle.

She stares at you for a second, watching you unpack and unfold your athletic uniform. “How old are you, Y/N?” Without looking up from your suitcase, you reply, “I’m nineteen.” You don’t think to ask why she wants to know, and you ignore the hope that it’s because she may be interested in you.

“How come you’re in high school with Jill?” You can hear the genuine curiosity in her tone, making you want to answer any questions she may have for you. “I was held back a year. No big deal.” You see Sydney nod out of the corner of your eye, before seemingly getting lost in her own thoughts.

“You alright over there?” You inquire. She quickly nods, snapped back to reality. Almost as quickly as she entered the room, she exits with a hasty goodbye thrown over her shoulder.

---

Throughout the course of a couple days, you got to know Sydney better. You became more and more comfortable around her, and your crush on her grew and grew. One night, the two of you were chatting and she was getting closer and closer to you. You were fully ready to kiss her when you heard a terrified scream from upstairs.

You and Sydney share a look before you vault over the back of the couch and run upstairs. When you burst into Jill’s room, you see Kirby and Jill staring in horror across the street. You can see someone in a Ghostface mask in Olivia’s room, making your blood run ice cold.

You sprint back downstairs and throw open the front door before running next door. Sydney follows behind you, calling out to you, but you ignore her. You run upstairs in Olivia’s house, throwing her door open. Instead of finding Ghostface, you are met with a horror scene.

You quickly exit the room, your stomach churning at the memory of the sight of your murdered friend. As you stumble to the stairs, you hear footsteps behind you. You whip around, but it’s too late to defend yourself as Ghostface swings his knife at you.

He catches your arm, and you stumble backwards, falling down the stairs. You look up, seeing Sydney standing there with a knife, ready to defend you. When you look towards the top of the stairs, Ghostface is gone.

You can hear police sirens approaching, which makes you sigh in relief. Sydney helps you up and leads you out the door and towards one of the ambulances that had just arrived.

She stands by you anxiously as you get patched up, hoping that you would be alright. As soon as the EMT is done, she shoves your shoulder and exclaims, “What the hell were you thinking? Running towards Ghostface empty handed?”

You wince and sigh. “I don’t know, okay?! I just wanted to protect my friend. Is that a crime-” You are cut off by soft lips pressing against your own. You are caught off guard, but you quickly melt into it. When Sydney pulls back, you smile.

She keeps her forehead resting against yours as she says, “Next time, we do it together. Okay?” You nod before kissing her again.

Together. That sounds good.

---

@alotofpockets

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#sydney prescott x you #sydney prescott x reader #sydney prescott x y/n #sydney prescott #scream x you #scream x y/n #scream x reader #scream 4 #scream #scream imagines

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lively-potter · 8 months

Text

— trials of athena ; two

— genre ; enemies to lovers, kinda slow burn, friends to lovers

— warnings ; a hella lot of cursing, some typos ( of course 🙄😬 ), mature themes, smut, athena doesn’t like feelings, fluff, smut, angst, some violence, a teeny bit of blood and gore, JK’s a dick fr

— intro, teaser, part one

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— word count ; 1.5k

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

— chapter two ; a continuum of bad choices

♡

May 21st, 2023 9 PM

"Huh, what made you decide to call after leaving me on fucking open for three hours, bitch?" Sawyer hollered through the phone, making me yelp.

"Ow, you cabbage head! You scared the hell out of me." I whined, pressing my hand to my ear – risking a glare out my window.

Sawyer snickered, "Well, I am naturally terrifying."

"—No, you're not." I retorted dryly, "You act like a kicked puppy most of the time."

My reply had Sawyer huffing and puffing on the other line.

"Fine, I'll let you have that one, cunt."

"Hoe."

"Proud of it!" He swung back, causing me to laugh. My best friend Sawyer never failed to make me laugh when I was pissed, sad, or depressed. "So, what brings you here?"

"A continuum of bad choices and a neighbor that I want to shank." I sighed, throwing myself down on my pillow when Sawyer tutted. "He's such an asshole," I grunted, still thoroughly bothered by the daft beaver nugget next door.

"Spill." Sawyer ordered brightly – he, like my mom (and me) loved to hear all the latest gossip. With a sigh, I told him every little detail of this morning, and I definitely didn't forget to add the part where the mothereffer was half naked.

"Soooo....lemme get this straight; this dude – although fine as fuck and looked like he was created specially in God's image – was rude and slammed the door in your face?"

"Yep," I giggled, sounds about right. "and I can't forget to add that the bastard's bedroom is across from mine." I spoke suddenly, remembering I saw that bitch next door making his bed up. Gosh, I needed to stop spying out my window...until he got curtains, of course.

"At least you have the privacy film on your windows at home." Sawyer chuckled, "maybe you'll get lucky and see his dick next time."

My face flushed heavily, "Ew! Ohmygod! Sawyer, you nasty little bitch." I squealed out a loud giggle, wishing more than anything he was back in the states.

Sawyer left a month ago with Raven (one of his dads) to Russia for father/son bonding. I missed him desperately – but apparently, he'll be back home soon.

Sawyer sighed lowly, "Dude, I wish I was back home so I can get a look at this handsome bastard. Do you think he's gay?" he asked wistfully.

My eyes widened, "I don't know! I don't make assumptions like that; plus, why would you want to date that ass?" I asked, kicking my shoes off my feet, and sitting up.

"From what you told me about him, he'd be a good fuck." He laughed; I imagined my crazy bestie shrugging his shoulders.

"How do you know what a good fuck is, bitch? You're a virgin... but he definitely would be – he's got a lot of piercings; you think he's got his you-know-what pierced?" I asked, biting down on my lip as wild thoughts raced through my brain. I don't know why I was telling him this, but Sawyer was my other half, I could talk to him about anything.

"C'mon babe, don't be a prude." Sawyer mocked, "It's called a cock."

"Shut the hell up," I choked out through my embarrassment. A noise down below distracted me from Sawyer's howling laughter. My lips parted when I crawled across my bed, knees digging into my pillows to peer out the window.

And there he was.

I watched my insanely attractive neighbor dressed in jeans, big black combat boots and a black oversized hoodie lock his door and jog to his sleek black Mercedes.

Sawyer's voice grew muffled in my ears as my neighbor turned and looked up. A squeak left my lips when his eyes looked in the direction of my window.

"Shit." I scrambled away from the window before stopping shot. "Wait a fuckin' minute..." I mumbled, crawling back towards my window, "He can't see me." I murmured, now remembering I had a privacy film over my window.

Quite a handy thing to have, they can't see in, but you can see through it.

I'm kinda nosey (not in a bad way, I hope).

"Hold on just a wee bit, Sawyer." I called, "the dickwad next door just left." I said, seeing him jump in his car and drive off.

I backed away from my window and picked my phone up.

"Sorry 'bout that, what were you saying?" I asked, resuming my conversation with Sawyer.

"I wonder where he's headed off to so late." Sawyer mused causing me to roll my eyes playfully.

"Don't know, don't care."

(I was lying to myself)

*** May 22nd, 2023

3:15 AM

The loud thumping of a door closing from next door roused me from my sleep.

Cursing myself for being such a light sleeper, I rolled over and threw my weighted blanket back over my head and closed my eyes once more; hoping sleep would claim me once more.

Minutes passed; I was snoozing once more.

...until drunken giggle (more like a shriek) startled me once more.

Ugh, shut up and lemme sleep...

My thoughts became jumbled as I breathed deeply, on the precipice of falling into a deeper slumber.

The stumbling of drunken feet grew louder and louder, as if they were nearing me, until a door flew open and banged against the wall in the house next to mine. My eyes flew open and darkened in anger once I realized the annoying noises and fuckin' giggling next door wouldn't be stopping anytime soon.

"Sweet daughter of Zeus." I mumbled, flinging off my warm blanket off my body and stumbling to my feet. My brain was half awake and half alert when I nearly tripped over my phone charger.

"Owwww!"

"Shit. Fuck. Damn it," I hissed, doubling over in absolute agony as my pinky toe caught the edge of my bedframe. I fell down on my ass – momentarily forgetting the shuffling next door – to cradle my throbbing toe.

"Stupid fucking neighbors." I huffed, carefully getting to my feet, wincing once I applied pressure to my foot. I paced for a second until the pain wore off and wiped the sleep out of my eyes.

A tired groan left my lips as I pressed a knee on my bed, leaned over my bedframe and peered out my bedroom window, into the one across from mine.

One glance was all it took for every ounce of exhaustion to leave my body. All that was left was shocked, mortification, and disgust (with a slight sprinkle of envy, but I'd die before I would ever admit it).

I was unable to tear my eyes away as I witnessed a gorgeous woman with long blonde hair and tan legs that seemed to go on for miles fall down onto her knees in front of my neighbor.

Wut. The. Fucking. Hell.

A embarrassed squeak left my lips and I threw a hand over my innocent eyes to shield myself from this display.

Ohmygod.

I had never seen anything like this in my life.

Slowly, I peeked through my parted fingers and choked.

And nearly die as I watched my hotter than the sun neighbor ruffle his hands through his dark hair and peer down at his lady of the night. I watched, transfixed on his face as his mouth parted and he started speaking, I watched his lips open and move as he pronounced each syllable.

Gods, I wanted to know what he was saying.

But I kinda got the gist of what he had said when the lady immediately went into action and started unzipping his tight pants that clung to his rock-solid thighs. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't look away.

My dickwad neighbor peered down at her with a dirty little smirk, as he was enjoying the way she was entirely at his mercy. I gulped when he bit down on his lip – the silver hoops threaded through his lips made the action even more attractive.

WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME????

LOOK AWAY YOU STUPID BITCH.

THIS IS A VIOLATION OF PRIVACY.

But why! Just why was my dickwad neighbor getting a BJ in front of his fucking window? A window without curtains concealing his gorgeous body from view. A squeak left my lips once his pants were to his knees...along with his boxers.

And then his you-know-what was out in the open...for all eyes to see.

I almost choked to death on my spit as I saw the fucking beast he had concealed underneath his clothes.

It was fucking huge. The biggest I've ever seen.

I pitied the poor girl next door.

He'd tear her in two.

A glint of silver caught my eye and I had enough.

I flew away in an instant and tripped over myself to get to my bed.

I threw the blanket over my head and grabbed at my phone. Once it was in my hands, I cringed at the brightness and immediately turned it down.

With trembling fingers, I tapped on Sawyer's contact and waited for the bitch to answer.

"Yo."

"I was right! I was fucking right, Sawyer!"

"Ohhhh..." he hummed before stopping, "Wait. What were you right about again?" he asked, causing me to roll my eyes.

"That dick pickle neighbor of mine has got his dick pierced."

author’s note ; ✨

hi, everyone! Ihope you all had a great day! thanks for reading.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook x oc #bts fanfic #wattpad #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungguk #jungkook x original character #jungkook angst #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #jjk #jeongguk #jungkookie

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kimbappykidding · 1 year

Text

Part One Here

Tagged: @iwillgotoheavenforyou

You and Sehun fell into a pattern of hooking up whenever you were over and it was a lot of fun! Neither of you had defined the relationship meaning you didn't have to think about it too much but one thing was for sure, now you'd pretty much be found in Sehun's bed not Chanyeol's. You figured this was just a physical thing that would fade with time but it didn't. As Sehun didn't grow tired of you, you realised he really must've wanted you for a while. He could be so passionate with you and you often had to force him to wait until you reached his room because otherwise he got too caught up in it and claimed he didn't care who saw. You liked how beautiful and desired he made you feel and couldn't believe a guy that looked like him was weak for you.

You were also surprised to find that Sehun was pretty likeable and not just physically. Afterwards, the two of you would talk and you found out a lot about him. You learned not only was Sehun hot, but he was also sweet, funny and rather endearing. His looks were really deceiving and he actually had a great personality under that god-like physique. So you were really enjoying the situation you'd found yourself in but there was one thing bothering you.

Chanyeol.

Throughout all of this Chanyeol had been quieter than usual. From the very first morning after you hooked up you felt something shift between you and things were never quite the same. You still saw Chanyeol often but now split the time evenly between him and Sehun. You even noticed that if you mentioned Sehun when you were with Chanyeol he'd go all quiet and change the subject. So you figured Chanyeol wasn't comfortable with you seeing Sehun but whenever you asked him about it, he just insisted it was fine.

One day you and Chanyeol were heading out to the cinema and were sitting in Chanyeol's car when Sehun came around the corner. He saw you both and smiled "where are you off to?" he asked. "The cinema" you said "we're going to see the new Spiderverse movie". Sehun smiled "that's a good movie, guess it's a good job you didn't invite me I don't think we'd have seen much of the movie". You blushed slightly at the look in Sehun's eye but felt Chanyeol shift beside you. Sehun also noticed and looked at him before backing off "well have fun, see you later" he said more to you than Chanyeol and he walked away. Once he'd gone Chanyeol smiled at you "so ready to go?". You paused before replying and sighed "Chanyeol are you really okay with Sehun and I hooking up?". Chanyeol stiffened "Y/n I already told you you're both adults so it's fine". "See you say that but you're obviously so uncomfortable with it and I know we're adults but I'm your friend and Sehun's your colleague! You see us both so much and you can say if it bothers you". Chanyeol shook his head "no I can't, Y/n you're an adult and I have no right to tell you what to do or say plus say I did have a problem with it, what would you do?". "What would I do?" you asked and he nodded "yeah if I said it made me uncomfortable, what would you do?". You blinked "I...I'm not sure. I guess if it bothered you so much I'd stop seeing him". "Really?" Chanyeol asked "just because I said it made me uncomfortable?". You nodded "yeah if it bothered you that much. Do you want me to stop?". Chanyeol sighed "but why? Why would you choose me over him, when you're happy with him? What reason do you have?". Chanyeol was staring at you almost desperate with those big eyes and you had no idea what he wanted from you. You looked down "I...you're my best friend Chanyeol, plus it's not like I'm dating Sehun or anything. This is just a bit of fun so if it offended you yeah I'd stop it".

_______

Chanyeol stared at you, looking stunned and you put a hand on his arm "so, do you want me stop? Say the word and I will". Chanyeol blinked at you and you wondered what was taking him so long to reply and why he was staring at you like that. He was looking at you almost as if...you blushed at the thought and Chanyeol seemed to spot that because he pulled away. You hadn't even realised how close the two of you were sat but why did you feel so warm? You leant back in your seat and pressed the button to lower the windows. A nice breeze swept in and you looked over at Chanyeol who was watching you. "So what's your answer?" you asked and Chanyeol looked down "it's fine but thank you...it means a lot that you would do that for me". You nodded "of course, you know I love you" but something about the atmosphere made that feel weird. Chanyeol couldn't look you in the eye and he nodded "I do and I love you too". A tense silence fell and then Chanyeol fixed a smile on his face "so...should we head off?" and you nodded eagerly.

You both carried on like nothing had happened but you knew something odd had happened in the car but had no idea what it was. You thought about it a lot and finally asked Sehun for his opinion when you saw him the next day. Sehun asked you to explain what had happened and you told him the whole story, when you finished Sehun was looking at you with a funny expression on his face. You frowned "what's that look for?". Sehun laughed "you seriously don't know?". "Don't know what?" you asked and he shook his head. "Okay I only didn't tell you because I thought you knew but Y/n Chanyeol has a crush on you". You blinked taking it in before you laughed "no he doesn't! We're just friends". Sehun shook his head "that doesn't mean he doesn't want to be more with you". "But why wouldn't he tell me?" you asked. "Maybe because you tell everyone that you're just friends before they can even ask" Sehun said "or how it's quite clear there's nothing romantic between you, at least from your side?". "From my side?" you asked and Sehun paused "well are you attracted to him?". "He's a very good-looking man" you said and Sehun smirked "that didn't answer my question. Do you want him? Could you imagine doing with him what we just did?". You paused and shook your head. Sehun nodded "he knows that and that's why he never told you. It's like how I never approached you until I knew you liked me. You're an expressive person Y/n and it's quite obvious what you do or don't want". You went quiet thinking "that must be horrible for him". Sehun shrugged "well he appreciates your friendship so it's better than not having you in his life at all". You frowned turning to Sehun "but does he ever seem upset? Why hasn't he tried to move on with someone else?'. Sehun shrugged "well he never discusses you with any of us, trust me we've tried but he shuts it down immediately. So we really have no idea if he pines after you or not. As for dating someone else I'm not sure either. I always figured he was just waiting to see if you changed your mind about him but maybe now he'll see that's not going to happen". You nodded "yeah hopefully...". Sehun frowned watching you "are you okay?". You nodded "yeah I just feel bad for him". Sehun shook his head "you're too kind. It's not your fault you don't like him back". You nodded "I know" but you couldn't help but wonder...did you like Chanyeol that way?

He didn't automatically make your knees weak like Sehun did but a few weeks ago you would've said the same about Sehun. The truth was it was all about perspective and there was a lot to like about Chanyeol. He was your best friend, the person you wanted if you were happy or sad. He was one of the nicest people you knew and he was such a great guy. You and Chanyeol got on so well, if you could have that emotional connection with a partner it would be amazing. However, you and Sehun had the physical part nailed and the emotional part was growing more and more every day. You just couldn't work out who was the bigger risk, Chanyeol or Sehun.

When you woke up the next morning you felt just as confused about what to do. Sehun had no reason to lie about Chanyeol liking you but you still didn't 100% believe him. You wanted to see it in action and so when Sehun asked if you wanted breakfast in bed you paused "what if we went downstairs and ate with the others?". Sehun nodded "yeah if you want" and you nodded "we don't have to hide away or anything? Right?". Sehun nodded "right...but I should probably find a shirt" and you smiled "if you feel you have to" and Sehun shook his head "don't start or we'll never make it downstairs" and so shooting him another smile, you kept your thoughts to yourself.

You went down to breakfast together and Chanyeol jumped when you both entered but didn't say anything. "Now what do we have here? You two decided to take a break and get off each other for 5 minutes?" Baekhyun asked. Sehun pushed him and you sunk into a seat across from Chanyeol. He was staring at his plate and with your eyes on him, you addressed Baekhyun. "No we just need some sustenance before we carry on, you'd know that if you ever had good sex" you replied and all the guys started laughing, except for Chanyeol who tightened his grip on his spoon, his knuckles turning white. You were so surprised you didn't even realise Sehun was coming closer until he pressed a few kisses to your neck "that was brilliant" he whispered and you smiled before seeing Chanyeol watching.

Your breath caught in your throat because he looked pissed! Chanyeol looked down the second he saw you noticed but he couldn't hide the dark look in his eye. You couldn't forget it all day and it was like it was seared into your brain. You realised Sehun was right...and you enjoyed that moment in the kitchen.

Finding Chanyeol attractive shouldn't have been such a big shock to you. You knew in your mind Chanyeol was hot. He was over 6 foot and had abs like a superhero, of course he was conventionally attractive...but seeing him direct his energy at you awoke things in you and once you'd started seeing Chanyeol's attractive sight you couldn't stop.

Later that week you attended an Exo concert and when it got to their racy songs your eyes drifted from Seun to Chanyeol back and forth until Chanyeol demanded your attention. Girls were going crazy for all the boys but then Chanyeol took his shirt off and they all went insane. You smiled before catching sight of Chanyeol and realising he did indeed look really good...really really good. There was something about Chanyeol's stage confidence which made him more attractive but it wasn't just that. It was Chanyeol himself and you were shocked to see your best friend like this. It was as if the best friend you shared a bed with and stayed up late into the night laughing with, was a different person to this hot ripped man on stage. How could he go from being your sweet kind caring friend to a sexy performer and how had you never noticed this before?

You saw Chanyeol after the show and paused as he came towards you. You felt oddly fluttery and nervous which had never happened before. You can't remember ever being intimidated by Chanyeol, not even when you first became friends but here you were. Chanyeol was wiping his face and neck with a towel and it was such a casual but hot move. You looked at Chanyeol's neck and shoulders admiring them before realising he was looking at you with his bright smile as always. You smiled back because your friend was back and this was a Chanyeol you knew.

So now you knew you liked Chanyeol, you just had to work out how to tell him... and how to tell Sehun and honestly you weren’t sure which was scarier. You were 90% sure Chanyeol was indeed into you but that didn't make it any easier. Your actions would change everything and could cost you both boys. You'd lose Sehun if you went with Chanyeol and what if you and Chanyeol didn't work as a couple? Then you'd lose Sehun and Chanyeol and you couldn't imagine anything worse. You cared for both of them and had no idea what the right thing to do was. You just kept putting it off, hoping an idea would come to you but nothing did. So you carried on seeing Sehun and pretending like you didn't have feelings for Chanyeol...which you weren't very good at.

Whenever you saw Chanyeol you felt nervous and Sehun became your comfort safe person so you would crave him. So when Chanyeol walked into a room you'd move close to Sehun or initiate contact with him. If Chanyeol was talking you'd grab onto Sehun's arm or hand or something and he'd usually wrap one around you making you feel less vulnerable. Then when you got drunk that's when things really got messy because drunk...you really wanted Chanyeol. With alcohol, you'd notice how nice his smile was or what good hair he had. Then you'd think about how tall and in shape he was and you'd start feeling warm and flustered. So again you'd turn to Sehun. That exact thing happened tonight.

You were over at the Exo house and everything was fine...until you saw Chanyeol dancing with some girl. He had his arms around her waist and it all seemed pretty fun and chill but it made you react very strongly. You panicked and felt so insecure you hated it. Chanyeol spotted you because you'd walked through into the room and then halted in your tracks. He looked at you confused and might've been about to head over but Sehun appeared behind you and put a hand on your waist "hah what are you doing standing here I almost ran into you" he laughed and then he saw your face "are you okay?". You nodded and grabbed him "why don't we dance?". Sehun smiled seeing the look in your eye and nodded "sure!".

So you and Sehun started to dance right across from Chanyeol and the girl. It hurt every time you saw them together so you pulled Sehun closer and kissed him. Sehun was more than happy with this development and kissed you back. You opened your eyes and happened to see Chanyeol watching you and that pleased you. You felt so relieved to know Chanyeol was still an option for you and you should've broken the kiss with Sehun and gone to speak with Chanyeol...but you didn't. You kept kissing Sehun while keeping your eyes locked on Chanyeol. You weren't sure what you were thinking just you felt vulnerable and wanted to regain some of that power. So you kept kissing Sehun and when he pulled away to press some kisses to your neck and chest you tilted your head back and smirked at Chanyeol before kissing Sehun again. You closed your eyes properly kissing Sehun and both pulled away gasping. "Wow" Sehun smiled "want to do this somewhere else?" but your first reaction was to look for Chanyeol and he wasn't there. The girl was standing to the side looking confused and you saw a blur disappear through the door who you were sure was Chanyeol.

What you'd done started to creep up on you and you panicked. Why had you done that? Why tease him like that? You felt horrible and knew you had to go after him but Sehun was confused. "Y/n"? he asked and you blinked "I'm sorry Sehun I've got to go" and you rushed after Chanyeol.

You knew whenever Chanyeol needed some space from these parties he'd go to the bathroom in his room and so you headed there. "Chanyeol?" you called as you pushed open the door and sure enough there he was standing over the bathroom sink.

When you saw the look in his eyes and the shock on his face you weren't sure what to say but he was. "Why were you doing that?" Chanyeol asked and you blushed embarrassed "I don't know...". "Are you sure because that seemed really deliberate" Chanyeol said "and it's been building all week like you wanted me to see you and Sehun. You grab him anytime I enter the room and are all over him. It's fine if you want to touch him but why do I feel like it's so specific to me?" he asked. Your silence that followed was deafening and Chanyeol paused "wait...did you want me to see you with Sehun?". You looked up at him and shrugged "maybe". "Why?" Chanyeol asked "I've told you I'm fine with the two of you and don't feel weird so why would you test me like that?". You'd drunk a lot and were trying to come up with a reasonable excuse but couldn't so you just told the truth.

"I was upset when I saw you with that girl and it made me feel insecure and vulnerable so I was testing you but not to see if you were angry at me more the opposite, I wasn't trying to see if you hated me but if you...". Chanyeol paused "if I what?". "Sehun told me something and I wanted to see if it was true". Chanyeol's eyes widened slightly and you saw the tension in his body but still he pretended he didn't. "What did Sehun tell you?" Chanyeol asked and you looked at him "I think you know" and you reached up to kiss him.

It was only a soft quick kiss but it put across your message pretty clearly...or to you it did.

"Y/n why did you just do that?" Chanyeol asked "why did you kiss me, we're just friends". "But you like me as more don't you?" you asked and Chanyeol looked down "if you already know then why ask?". "because I want to hear you say it" you replied and Chanyeol looked at you "why? I know you don't feel the same way so why are you putting me through this? What kind of sick game is it?". "It's not a game I just...even since Sehun told me I've been so confused by what I feel for you both but the more I thought about you that way the more I wanted you and I just need one thing to be sure". Chanyeol understood what that one thing was and he nodded "I want you Y/n" with a beautiful sigh that drew you towards him effortlessly. This time Chanyeol was ready for you and he quickly kissed you back.

The kiss started off slowly. This was new to both of you and you were trying to figure out how this would work. Part of you found it really hard to comprehend you were kissing your best friend but the other half just acted on instinct and you wanted Chanyeol. So you pushed away any restraint or worries and kissed the perfect man, trying to show him how much he meant to you both as a friend and potential partner. Chanyeol evidently felt the change in you as he also started being more passionate and things began to heat up. Chanyeol let his hands wander over your body and when a whine escaped you he shot you a gorgeous smirk. In response, you bit his lip and Chanyeol let out a moan that you felt in your stomach. "I want to hear you make that noise again" you said and Chanyeol had always dreamed of hearing you say something like that to him. "Well keep kissing me then" Chanyeol said and you nodded "deal".

After a while the contact wasn't enough, you reached for the buttons on Chanyeols shirt and before you knew it were tumbling into bed. Literally. Chanyeol fell backwards with you on top of him and you quickly climbed up him to make great use of this new position. Chanyeol was making those beautiful noises again when suddenly he pulled back. "Wait Y/n I think we should stop" Chanyeol said and you paused "why? Isn't this what you wanted?". "Yes but not like this. I don't want us to jump into bed with one another when we're drunk. I don't want it to just be physical". "But I thought you wanted me?" you said and Chanyeol nodded "I do but I want you to want me when you're sober too...I deserve that". You went to argue of course you would want him when you were sober and Chanyeol patted your head "how about we just go to sleep? We can talk in the morning".

You nodded and went to get into bed when you noticed Chanyeol gathering his things. "You stay in here I'll go with Baekhyun" he said. You wouldn't have that so you decided you'd go. Chanyeol tried to get you to stay but there was no way you were doing what you'd done to him tonight and then kicking him out of his room. "Y/n please...stay" Chanyeol said taking your hand and you smiled. You reached up to gently stroke his cheek and shook your head "I'll see you tomorrow" and kissed his cheek before leaving. Once you'd gone Chanyeol collapsed on the bed letting out the biggest sigh wondering if he'd just made the most stupid decision ever.

You walked downstairs and bumped into someone at the bottom. Of course it was Sehun. He saw you and smiled "hey there you are, want to finish what we..." when he saw your face "what's up?". "I just kissed Chanyeol" you replied and Sehun nodded "oh erm come on" and he led you to a side room. "So how did it feel?" he asked and you blushed looking down. You were embarrassed to tell Sehun what had happened. Would he be sad? Angry? Feel betrayed?

Reading your mind Sehun smiled "Y/n it's okay if you enjoyed it. I figured you had a thing for Chanyeol". You paused "what? But I thought you said it was obvious I didn't care for him that way?". "It was...before I mentioned it and clearly opened up the idea to you. I could see the realisation in your eyes and felt the tension between the two of you. I knew it was only a matter of time and I guess we're here". "I'm sorry Sehun" you said and he shook his head "don't be! We were just friends with benefits, never anything exclusive so you haven't done anything wrong". You shook your head looking at him "you know I always thought you were a dick but that couldn't be further from the truth!" throwing your arm around him in a hug.

Sehun laughed and hugged you back "thank you!". He pulled away and looked at you "I'm glad I've won you over". "Completely! I liked talking to you afterwards and we've gotten closer. I hope that can stay the same...if it's okay with you?". Sehun nodded "yeah of course. I've really enjoyed our time together too and not just the sex although that was really good so thanks for that". You laughed "no problem, back at you". You both smiled at one another before you sighed "anyway I should head home, I've got to see Chanyeol in the morning so need some sleep". "So why are you leaving? Stay over. Take my room..." Sehun offered but you shook your head "I think the space will help show Chanyeol I'm serious about him...plus it will give me time to make sure I'm sure about this. I think I need a quiet night after being around all you hot men". Sehun smiled "well atleast let me call you a taxi" and 30 minutes later you were home in bed. You thought about how nice a guy Sehun was and were so glad you'd met someone like him. Then you thought about Chanyeol for the rest of the night and went to sleep with a smile on your face and hope in your heart.

You woke up pretty early and took a shower. When you got up the sun was rising and you looked at your phone to see a new message from Chanyeol. "Hey I know it's super early but whenever you're ready to talk just let me know". You smiled and told him you were awake and ready to talk if he was, not long after you were pulling up outside his house and Chanyeol came out to meet you. He waved awkwardly and you laughed as he stood watching you park. "You've never done this before, come outside to greet me" you laughed "what are you doing?". Chanyeol shrugged "honestly I have no idea" and gave you a hug. You held him tightly and looked up at him "Chanyeol the first thing I have to say is an apology. I am so sorry for the way I treated you last night". Chanyeol shook his head but you wouldn't let him brush it away "no I shouldn't have acted the way I did and I'm really sorry I did it. I promise I will never do anything like that again, I never want to hurt you..." you said trailing off unsure what to say but Chanyeol took your hands. "I know Y/n and I believe you". The way he was looking at you made you pause "wait so are you...you're giving me another chance?". "It's not another chance, I just want to be with you!" he said and leaned down to kiss you.

"You were totally right about waiting until we were both sober" you commented "clean teeth really makes a kiss". Chanyeol laughed "I'm glad you think so" and kissed you again.

You couldn't just stay outside forever and so eventually Chanyeol led you inside for breakfast. You'd cooked together so many times but now everything felt different. When you met Chanyeol's eye you blushed and when he reached around you to grab a fork you saw the smirk on his face. "You're doing all of this on purpose aren't you!" you commented and Chanyeol looked at you with an innocent look on his face "doing what?". You shook your head "making yourself irresistible to me!" you cried and he smiled "I'm not, maybe that's just how you feel about me". The way he looked this morning you could believe it so you nodded "you might be onto something" and pulled him towards you.

The breakfast was forgotten but the kitchen is not a quiet area of any house and minutes later Baekhyun and Chen appeared. "Hey...oh shit sorry we...Chanyeol?" Baekhyun asked. He looked between the two of you and frowned "I thought you were...you know what never mind". The two obviously thought they'd stumbled onto something they shouldn't have so they nearly died when Sehun walked in. "Thought who was who?" he asked and then he spotted you both and smiled. He winked at you both and then gasped "you two! Behind my back? My girl and best friend? How could you do this to me?". Your jaw dropped and you were going to laugh when Chanyeol stood up "It's been going on the whole time Sehun! There's nothing you can do about it!". "The whole time?" Sehun yelled "I'll kill you" and him and Chanyeol began fake fighting, knocking things over and rolling around on the floor. Baekhyun and Chen tried to separate them and Suho, D.O. and Lay all came running at the noise. They finally separated them and Suho demanded to know what was wrong with them both...when he paused because you were laughing your head off.

All the guys watched as you clutched your side, struggling to breathe as tears ran down your face. They all thought this was some very sick joke on your part until Sehun and Chanyeol both started laughing too. "Okay what the fuck is going on?" D.O. demanded and Chanyeol smiled shaking Chen's hand off him "we're not really fighting. Sehun knows". "He what?" Baekhyun asked and Sehun nodded "Y/n and I aren't together anymore and I know about her and Chanyeol. It's completely fine". "It is?" Suho asked and Sehun nodded "not to brag but I kind of think I got them together". Chanyeol laughed and patted Sehun's back "sure I'll give you that...." before coming to stand beside you. He took your hand and smiled "so yeah you can all go now". "What so you can keep eating her face in a communal space?" Baekhyun asked "I don't think so!". The others laughed and you smiled hugging Chanyeol "I guess we can wait until after breakfast, we've finally found this and there's no rush". Chanyeol nodded smiling down at you "that's true, now I've got you I'm not going anywhere" and he kissed you.

Some of the guys groaned, others awed but neither of you cared. Finally, everything was perfect.

So originally this was just going to be a Sehun imagine but I thought Chanyeol deserved a happy ending too so wrote this version. Honestly this whole series came from my realisation that everyone in Exo is so hot and anyone stuck between two members would have the choice of a lifetime!

If you’d like to read the Sehun ending then click the link here.

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crackedoutwalnut · 11 months

Note

For Heather requests:

Um, ChanDuke. Heather and Heather bonding over nerdy things they secretly enjoy.

I was thinking Spider-Man for Heather Chandler and Homestuck for Heather Duke. But I don't want to make it hard for you, so whichever interest you want for them is fine.

Thank you in advance))

A/N: this is a super cute idea. Chanduke has always been a sleeper hit of a ship.

Despite what most of her classmates may think, Heather Duke had a life outside of her clique. The studious girl often found herself losing hours of the day reading. Whether at school, home or in the passenger seat of Heather Chandler’s car, she could almost always be found with a book in hand. Her taste leaned toward dense and wordy novels such as Moby Dick, Les Misérables, Crime and Punishments, etc. However, recently, Duke has started to grow weary of the complex and often depressing literature she tended to enjoy. She supposed it was a temporary burnout, something every bookworm must face after exhausting their favorite genre.

This naturally led Duke to search for new books. She picked up memoirs, fantasy, YA, and various other genres. While she liked a lot of the books she read well enough, it didn’t spark her interest like the stories she usually read. This led her to feel oddly a tad stir-crazy. She needed new books to read. This led her to the second biggest bookworm in Westerburg, Veronica Sawyer. Duke decided to pop the question at lunch.

“You want to ask me for book recommendations? Heather, you literally never take my advice,” Veronica scoffed, jabbing at her salad with a plastic spork.

“Ugh, I know. That’s how you know I’m desperate.”

Veronica rolled her eyes, “Go fuck yourself, Duke. Let’s see… Have you read A Little Life? It’s super good, plus I know you’ve always liked that intense, sad shit.”

Duke sighed, “I need something different, Veronica. Like we’re talking way out of my usual preferences.”

Veronica forked a tomato into her mouth and pondered for a moment. “Well, sometimes when I’m really bored, I read my old Spiderman comics.

Duke wrinkled her nose and immediately began to shut down the idea, “Comic books? Veronica, what the fuck are you talking about?” She glanced over at the other Heathers, who had been remarkably quiet up until now, for backup.

McNamara seemed just as put off by the idea, “I agree with Heather. Aren’t comics, like, weird?”

Veronica scowled, “It is not weird; a lot of people read and collect comics all the time.”

“Weird people,” Mac shot back playfully. Veronica gave her girlfriend an unamused look.

Duke turned to the silent member of the table, “Heather? What do you think?”

Her girlfriend had stayed unusually quiet, given how opinionated she seemed to be on every other possible topic. Chandler had been silently eating her salad, watching the exchange with indifference.

“I’ll be honest, there are about a million other topics I would rather be talking about,” Heather replied dryly.

“You’re no help,” Duke shot back. Heather gave her a mocking pout alongside a patronizing pat on the head.

Veronica clicked her tongue and shook her head, “See, this is why I don’t bother,” she paused to fish through her backpack. She whipped out two comics, both with Spiderman posing or fighting on the cover. “Take these, just in case.”

Duke rolled her eyes and accepted them from her, “Fine, but I won’t read them. I hope you know that.”

Heather read both comics. Twice. Then she promptly ordered the rest of the series, consumed all 50 volumes in half a week, and ordered more. Heather Duke was not proud to admit that she was infatuated with the comics. It had taken her a week to work up the courage to read Veronica’s books, but when she did, she found she was unable to stop. She didn’t tell Veronica this, of course, she simply returned the comics with a short “not my thing.” The brunette dropped the topic after that, and the Spiderman matter was dropped and forgotten by the posse. Or, at least, it would have been. To put it simply, Duke was caught with her pants down by the worst possible person: her girlfriend. Heather had gotten leagues better about being unnecessarily cruel to Duke when they confessed their shared feelings. However, Chandler was still by no means an open-minded person. Duke recalled the time she saw a classmate wearing a pair of unsightly striped overalls to class. She had told the kid straight to his face that “if he wanted to dress like a shitty train conductor, he could go jump in front one.”

Duke had been reading in her bed. It was a Saturday afternoon, and she was free for the entire day to do whatever she pleased. This led her to indulge in her guilty pleasure. For far longer than she cared to admit, Duke lay atop her covers, idly reading a volume. Until her bedroom door burst open. Duke nearly leaped from her skin as she dropped the comic and looked up.

Heather Chandler stood at the entrance of the room, arms crossed. “So, I guess you don’t answer your texts now?”

Duke’s eyes widened as her hand shot to grab her phone and pull it towards her. Her girlfriend had been texting her… for a while. Various texts asked her if she could hang out or if she could come over, which became increasingly snappy and whiny as the thread progressed. “Oh shit, Heather. I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”

Heather walked closer and focused on the book she had dropped. Her eyes widened, “Reading Spiderman comics?” Duke’s face flushed as she quickly stuffed the comics under her pillow.

“Heather, can you please forget you saw this? I know it’s probably funny and weird, but I really like them and- “Duke was cut off with a soft kiss on her cheek. She rubbed her tingling cheek in baffled silence as she looked up at her lover. Heather was giving her an amused smile.

“Chill, Duke. I’m not going to spill about your geeky ass pastime.” She grabbed the comic from under the pillow, despite Duke’s weak protests. “Who is this anyway? Mysterio?”

Duke paused. The man fighting the titular hero on the cover was indeed Mysterio. But… “How did you know that?” she questioned, snatching the volume from her girlfriend’s hands.

It was Heather’s turn to pause. She opened her mouth slightly, looking uncharacteristically flustered. Her freckled cheeks flushed, “Well I- “

Duke’s eyes widened, and an ear-splitting grin took over her face. “Do you like Spiderman, Heather?”

Chandler’s jaw dropped, and her face was now beet red, “Duke, you can’t tell anyone. I’ll be ripped to shreds.”

Heather felt a pang of pity for her girlfriend. For all her bravado and fuck you attitude, the Queen of Westerburg had an anxious streak, specifically when it comes to her image. Heather Chandler is borderline militaristic when it comes to her physical and social image. She spends over an hour grooming herself in the mornings and schmoozes with college kids until she inevitably gets invited to a party. The idea of anyone finding out about their shared guilty pleasure probably caused the girl to feel hysterical. Duke laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Heather, you’re my girlfriend. I would never do that. Plus, we’re kind of in the same boat,” she cracked a smile.

Chandler’s shoulders loosened slightly as she nodded. “Right,” She cleared her throat and glanced at the comic for a moment as if she was working up her courage, “Who’s your favorite?” Duke’s smile grew at the unusually nervous demeanor.

“Honestly? Gwen Stacy, I really like her comics.

Chandler’s glowed as she sat on the bed; Duke quickly joined her. “She’s my favorite too.” The two looked at each other, seemingly taking in the new information together.

Duke broke the silence, “Why would you think I would make fun of you for something like that?”

Heather gave her an exasperated look, “The same reason you would.”

Duke winced, “Right. Still, it’s a little sad that we can’t share that sort of stuff with each other.”

She received a sharp laugh in reply, “Can’t or won’t? Duke, we aren’t the most forthcoming people in the world.”

Heather let out a guffaw, “That’s true. However, now that we do know about this…would you like to read some comics with me?” Chandler’s eyes shone as she gave her a soft, toothy grin that made Duke’s heartbeat funny.

“I would be honored, Heather.”

#heathers #heathers one shot #heathers fic #chanduke #heathers musical #heathers the movie #heather chandler #heather duke #heather mcnamara #veronica sawyer

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amjustagirl · 2 years

Text

chapter 13: home and hearth

chapters: 13 / 15

pairing: miya osamu x f! reader

genre: romance / angst / fluff

word count: 2.5k

summary: miya osamu does not dare set fire to his heart. it burns anyway.

(prev / next)

“I guess I don’t actually have to kick you out of the farm”, Ichika remarks when you and Osamu return back to the guest house, the status of your newfound relationship clear from your joined hands. He rolls his eyes, ready to snipe back with a snarky remark about how he’s not as dumb as his brother, throwing ‘Tsumu to the wolves when Kita pipes up.

“We should have food to celebrate”, he says, ever the peace-maker. “I’m sure I have some mochi that obaa-chan made this morning, we could even break out the sake -”

“Thanks Capt’n, but I’m full”, Osamu replies flatly.

Everyone blinks at him. But before anyone can vocalise their utter shock, judging from their flabbergasted expressions - because he’s Miya Osamu, a bottomless pit and he never turns down food, he grabs your arm and hightails it to your room.

“What’s the rush?”, you ask him, confused. It wouldn’t hurt to sit about and chat with Shinsuke and Ichika for a bit, especially when you’re living under their roof.

“I’ve waited a whole year to talk to you, so I’m gonna treasure every minute I have here. And don’t worry about ‘Chika and Shinsuke. They’re romantic saps deep inside, so they understand.”

“Still, ‘Samu that’s so rude.”

“I missed you”, he declares, unrepentant. “Plus didn’t you hear ‘Chika promising to kick me out of the farm if I don’t make you happy -”

“With you, I’m always happy -”

“Keep sayin’ things like that and I’m never leavin’ your side, sweetheart. Now c’mon - let’s plan our first date. I’m thinkin’ of heading back to my hometown so we can try more ice cream flavours.”

“Cos it’s life changing from what I hear”, you tease, and he can’t help but kiss you again.

You do go on that first date, and a few more after until he has to return back to Osaka, but once Kita’s guests check out (you realise they’re Suna Rintarou’s parents who seem absolutely loaded - no wonder he’s so obnoxious), you get on the first train back to Osaka, flying off the train right into Osamu’s waiting arms.. You slip right back into the rhythm of being in Osaka, renting a tiny apartment though you really don’t need it since you and Kombu-chan spend most of your time at Osamu’s apartment, helping out at his restaurants as a means of spending more time with him whenever you’re free, in between breaks of running your own business, which is booming. Osamu boasts about it to all his customers and it strengthens your resolve knowing he’s your biggest supporter, that he couldn’t be prouder of you.

He broaches setting up a night where you take over the restaurant as a visiting chef-in-residence, and you gladly take him up on his offer, curating menus that blend your family’s traditional techniques with the flavours and ingredients you’ve discovered. These biweekly affairs draw almost a cult following of sorts purely through word of mouth. The primitive reservation link he uses on the Onigiri Miya website crashes as people keep flooding it, desperate to score a seat, and right now there isn’t a seat to be had for two months at least.

He’s brimming with pride that he gets to serve as your sous chef and tells you so, but there’s a weighted pause before you smile and nod, and he’s sharp enough to ask you what’s wrong.

“If I stopped cooking one day because I decided I hate it, would you still love me?”

“I guess it’d be fine”, he teases. “Since we won’t go hungry ‘cos I can cook for us both.”

“‘Samu!”

He presses a kiss to your forehead in apology. “I don’t love you for your cooking, let’s just be clear about that.”

“Then why do you love me?”

He must take a beat too long in hesitation because you mutter a soft “nevermind”, rolling on your back to stare at the cracks in the ceiling.

“Hey”, he rolls towards you, resting his chin on the top of your belly where you’re the most ticklish, chuckling when you swat at him. “You gotta give a guy time to think of a reply, ‘specially when I’m not good with words.”

You crack a smile when he boops your nose with his. “You know I’m gonna love you whether or not you’re a chef right? It’s not like I love you ‘cos of that. If that’s what I was lookin’ for then I might as well date Suzuki-san, though gross - that’d be like datin’ a grumpy auntie of mine, no can do.”

“I’m gonna tell her you called her grumpy -”

He chokes as if he’s downed a can of kerosene. “You won’t do that.”

“Try me”, you say, a cheeky grin stretching across your face.

He forgets to give you his answer when the night devolves into a pillow fight which ends only after he traps you in a bear hug and you distract him with heated kisses and - well his crew teases him when he turns up to work late after oversleeping because he doesn’t have the heart to leave the bed when you and Kombu-chan are snuggled against his back, and you groan when the alarm rings, blearily pleading just for ten more minutes. That quickly turns into an hour, and he scrambles into the restaurant with tufts of hair sticking up on all sides as if he’s stuck his finger into a power socket.

“Ah, young love”, Morita and Ishida chorus, never missing an opportunity to clown on their boss.

He wouldn’t consider himself over the hill yet, but he’s hardly a fresh faced teenager with his first girlfriend, floating on the high of infatuation like he’s just inhaled bubbles of champagne.

With you, it’s easy, uncomplicated.He likes that you understand his worries, the pressure he faces because you’ve been through it all before. There are always bills to pay, vendors and suppliers to manage, cranky customers who leave unjustified online reviews, snobby food reviewers he has to convince that onigiris are indeed an art form in and of itself.

“Bad day?” you ask, when he returns home, a storm cloud of gloom trailing behind him.

Your things have moved themselves into his apartment, your father’s knife carefully sheathed in the kitchen, your clothes shoved into his closet. You’re lounging on the sofa, watching some show about street food in Asia - Singapore this time, some chicken rice hawker who gets a michelin star. Kombu-chan glares at him for daring to interrupt its nap, as if he were an interloper in his own apartment.

He shrugs, sprawling onto your lap, nuzzling close in a wordless plea for comfort. .

“Kombu-chan, give ‘Samu a kiss!” you’d say brightly, lifting the cat to his cheek.

He wrinkles his nose when Kombu-chan begrudgingly gives him a lick with a sandpaper rough tongue. “Why don’t you give me a kiss instead”, he bargains, and when you do, somehow you manage to brighten his bad days with the sweetness of your affection, the sunshine of your smile.

Why does he love you?

Because you’re you. You’re the best thing to happen to him.

Everyone in his life seems to agree.

The crew loves you. Suzuki-san already took you under her wing when you first started helping out at the restaurant. Miyamura-kun looks up to you. Ishida and Morita tease you for being the boss’s girl until he quells them with a stern look. Murata just nods and says “good job” to him, which he takes as the ultimate stamp of approval.

Atsumu, of course, approves, even if he’s obnoxious about expressing it, hollering and taking a photo of you to send to the Inarizaki group chat with a thumbs up “mission accomplished” - as if he had any part to play in this entire escapade, which Suna points out wryly .The middle blocker texts him privately later a cryptic message to tell you that you were right (about what, he doesn’t explain even when probed) and to not let a good thing go (well, the less said about Suna’s own marriage, the better). Aran and Gintama send warm congratulations and ask to meet you when the next Inarizaki gathering rolls around, and he can just feel Kita radiating paternal pride all the way in Hyogo.

Kaiyo actually gets a little misty-eyed when he shyly holds your hand in front of her and Atsumu for the first time. While she doesn’t actually say much to him, she shoots him a look that says plain as day it’s about time, which, to be absolutely honest, he kinda agrees with.

“I think I finally understand why you took ‘Tsumu back”, he murmurs as you bustle around the kitchen, having commandeered it for yourself so you can utilise the entire Miya clan as your test subjects for the concoctions you’re cooking up.

Kaiyo uses his shoulder as a headrest. “Why’s that?”

“Cos love makes everyone a little bit crazy.”

She laughs brightly. “I’m definitely the craziest woman alive then.”

Atsumu perks up like a puppy. Yeesh. “Awww, baby -”

He’s gonna lose his appetite. “Stop slobberin’, it’s fuckin’ embarrassing”, he tells his brother, who responds with a kick to his shin.

Shoma chimes in just before Osamu tries to grab Atsumu in a headlock. “Auntie ‘Chika says since you’re crazy about auntie, you should get married soon, Uncle ‘Samu.”

Osamu glowers. “Auntie ‘Chika should also learn to mind her own damn business -”

“Language”, Kaiyo chimes in with an annoyingly smug grin, gleeful that her friend’s gotten her son to do her dirty work.

An evil idea strikes Osamu. “Shoma, why don’t you apply Auntie ‘Chika’s advice by asking your Uncle Kita if you can marry Asami-chan. Let’s see what he says.”

A beat before both Kaiyo and Atsumu goggle at him.

“Kita’s gonna murder you, you better avoid Hyogo for the next decade -”

“I guess we may as well plan the wedding -”

Shoma just blinks at the idiot adults in his life, unperturbed. “Okay”, he says serenely.

Thankfully, Kaiyo doesn’t push the matter when you’re around because he’s terrified she might scare you away. You’re already so obliging when she adds you into the Miya clan family group chat, instructing the kids to address you as auntie right away. He worries that the speed at which they’re moving frighten you, but you take it in stride. Of course, it helps that the kids know you well (Shoma still remembers your cooking lessons, holding a knife just as you taught him too), and you were always fast friends with Kaiyo (not a great thing in his book, when she insists on dragging you out for girl nights when he really just wants to stay home and cuddle you and Kombu-chan).

“She said she’s always wanted sisters”, you giggle when you come back after one of such get-togethers at Kaiyo’s favourite izakaya, unsurprisingly a little sloshed considering Ichika’s also visiting from Hyogo.

“Mmhm”, he helps you unzip your dress as you hold your hair up, swaying. “And did you ever wish for sisters for yourself?”

“I wanted - well, it doesn’t matter what I wanted then, when I have it now. Kinda. Somewhat.” you stab your toothbrush into your nostril and wince, and he decides to take over toothbrushing duties for the night. “I gotsch a fwamily - mmphhh - with you and Kai and ‘Tsum and the kiddos and it’s sho niceeeee - ”

“A family, huh?” he remarks, tucking you into bed as you nod off to sleep.

Speaking of family - his mother is over the moon when he brings you to meet her in Hyogo. You’re apprehensive, almost stiff when you bow to her, back almost parallel to the ground. The scars that are etched themselves to bone linger in your mind far more than those on your skin, but your shoulders lower from their place around your ears when his mother asks if you’re hungry, and without waiting for a reply, whips out enough mochi and dango to feed an army along with a thick photo album.

“Ka-san”, he whines, petulance thickening his accent. “Yer ‘barrassin’ me.”

“You and ‘Tsumu were such cute babies”, his mother replies mistily, ignoring his complaints. But when you gush over those damned photos, he sits back and munches on dango quietly, objecting only when his mother whips out a whole set of photos of him and ‘Tsumu stark naked, paddling through mud like piglets.

“It’s not my fault the two of you were allergic to clothes as children”, his mother laughs.

He swallows his retort when you flip over yet another photo, one where Tsumu and him clutch their first volleyball trophy, gap toothed and sweaty, exclaiming how cute the both of you were - which fine, he supposes he was a cute kid. Which then makes him wonder if your kids would be cute - they should be, given your genes and his, though if they inherit ‘Tsumu’s personality, that’d be a huge pain in the ass - wait a minute -

His mother somehow reads his mind, pulling him aside when they’re about to take their leave.

“You’d make beautiful babies together”, she whispers to him.

He splutters. “‘Ka-san, you can’t say things like that.”

“Like what?” you ask, his mother’s impertinent statement out of your earshot, thankfully.

“Nothin’” he says gruffly, ushering you out of his childhood home, ignoring his mother’s entreaties to come visit again soon (he will, but he’s gotta find a way to burn that accursed photo album first). But his mother’s words linger in his mind, a niggling thought that he can’t quite dismiss, perhaps because he does actually like the thought of a kid with your temperament and soft heart.

But it’s far too early for him to be broaching this topic with you.

You and he are still figuring out your footing in this journey of life. The industry you both work in is tough - rude customers, dishonest suppliers, rising food prices. Sometimes when you least expect it, the anxiety inherited from your parents boils over. He hates to see you struggle. He doesn’t dare add to it.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks when he finds you curled up on the couch, Kombu-chan purring on your lap.

You shake your head. Still, he doesn’t let your stubbornness steal you away from him.

So he puts on your favourite music, makes you a cup of tea. “C’mon”, he pleads, refusing to take no for an answer until you take his hand, allowing him to twirl you all around the living room, breaking out into the silliest of dance moves until you’ve laughed your worries away.

“The neighbours are going to think we’re crazy”, you giggle.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I am definitely crazy, so they’d be right.”

“You’re not crazy!”

“Sure I am”, he smirks. “Crazy in love with you.”

You hide your smile, shyly pressing your cold lips to his cheek, but there’s no hiding your heart is no longer frozen because he can hear it flutter against his skin, a bird finally set free.

Slowly, surely. One step at a time. Forge a way forward, away from fire and ice.

a/n: where nothing much happens, but hope you guys like the fluff :)

#hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x you #miya osamu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #set fire to your heart #haikyuu #storm chaser universe

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derpqueen22 · 7 months

Text

Ranchers (and the love they share)

An opportunity:

Jimmy owned a farm. He wasn’t exactly proud of it, but it was enough to make a living. His parents were the ones that started it up, but ever since they passed Jimmy had to fulfil his parents dream of taking over the ranch. Jimmy’s first dream was to get a goat horn. Every single one of his friends has one, often using it to call for help or just to gather. But Jimmy just didn’t have the skill to obtain a horn. He did try once, but it ended in him getting rammed in the ribs, resulting in a severe injury and a couple of surgeries. Ever since he had a fear of goats and every time his friends blew the horn, he would hear others join in. It was annoying, he couldn’t reply to them, he couldn’t start them, he longed for the day he would be that person to start the horns. But he just never did. That was, until Tango came by.

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“Sorry Mr Tek, we just can’t accept you.” The office lady said. Tango’s flame brightened. “Why not? I’m a hardworking guy!”

“Yes, we get that. Your architecture is certainly….astonishing to say the least, but I don’t think that our colleagues will accept…” The lady’s eyes drifted to tango’s hair. “That.”

“I CAN CONTROL IT, I PROMISE YOU-” Tango cut himself off as the lady’s eyes grew more and more frightened as his flame rose higher and higher. Tango calmed down. “I’m sorry. I’ll-I’ll go now.” He walked out of the office, hurt by the woman’s reaction. He just couldn’t find a job, it wasn’t his fault that his hair was a burning flame. Tango sighed and boarded a taxi home. Tango pulled out his phone as the car started up, he noticed an advert offering a job to take care of some farm animals. He clicked on it, and saw that the location was quite close to where he lived, so he ordered the taxi to head over there and see what awaits.

Jimmy was just finishing up putting the cows back in the pen when he saw a car coming down the road towards the ranch. He closed the pen and headed towards the car. It stopped right in front of the house and a man with flaming hair stepped out of the taxi. He had baggy red pants with more pockets then anyone could ever need and a classic black t-shirt to go on top. His eyes were also a deep red, almost frightening to look at. But Jimmy found it strangely comforting and amazed by how cool his hairdo looked. As he got closer and closer to him, he realized that the man’s hair was a flame, moving in the breeze. “Nice to meet you,” The man said. “My name is Tango, Tango Tek, and I’m here for the farm job.” Jimmy smiled. “Yep, welcome to the ranch! Jimmy Solidarity.” They shook hands and he led Tango to the house. “So, why do you want this job?” Jimmy asked, “Well, I’m in desperate need of one and I’m hoping you can give me it. I promise I'm a hard-working man and I'll do anything you need to me to do. I know my presence might be frightening but-”

“Okay." Jimmy interrupted. He didn't know why he was so eager for Tango to have this job. Maybe it was the workload getting to him. Or maybe..."You can start tomorrow, I’ll talk you through the list of things you need to get done in the morning.”

Tango’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, it was that easy?"

Jimmy chuckled, “Oh no, this job is definitely not easy. Be there by 6!”

Tango smiled and did a pretend salute. “Yes sir!”

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

As Tango arrived at the farm, Jimmy was already fully awake, working on harvesting the wheat. Tango yawned, amazed by Jimmy’s productivity. His eyes lit up visibly when he saw Tango, a smile erupted from his face. “Hey Tango! Good morning!” Tango rubbed his eyes, “How are you so energetic?”

Jimmy laughed, “I’m used to waking up early, plus, I drink a whole ton of tea along with my breakfast to keep me awake.”

“I see, I’ll note that for tomorrow.” Tango jokes. “Anyway, what do I have to do sir?”

“Just call me Big man Jim, or Jimmy is fine. You don’t have to go to formalities.” Jimmy said, with a tone of disgust in his voice. Tango could see a grin creeping up the side of his mouth. He smiled, as Jimmy slowly went through all the chores he had to do, going into a full lecture on how to do them. Tango was astonished that Jimmy had to do all that by himself and such a wonderful job at it as well. He couldn’t believe that Jimmy ran this whole farm basically his whole life and- “Did you hear that?” Tango shook himself out of his trance. “Uh, yeah, yep, every single word.” Jimmy grinned. “Great! Let’s get started then!”

The sun was just beginning to set as the duo rounded up the animals back into their paddocks. As Jimmy closed the door, Tango slumped against the fence, sweat pouring down his face. “Finally we’re done.” Tango exclaimed, exhausted from a whole day of work. “You did a good job, considering it was your first day.” Jimmy said, matter-of-factly. Tango looked at him in awe, despite doing most of the work, Jimmy didn’t look like he was tired at all, his hair still in that perfect slicked back form. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Jimmy laughed. “Well maybe. But No, seriously, you did well.” He smiled sincerely at Tango, his perfect teeth glinting in the sunlight. Tango felt a weird feeling in his chest, he couldn’t place it, but he knew that he'd be feeling this a lot. It was a good feeling and...he liked it.

Over the week, Tango got more and more used to this schedule, often bringing a cup of coffee with him to keep him awake. Sometimes it was easy to get through the day, especially when he was working with Jimmy. He would often find himself admiring Jimmy’s dedication to his job or sometimes, just Jimmy himself. Jimmy would catch Tango staring at him, causing Tango to turn around, blushing uncontrollably, Jimmy would laugh and continue working. It was a daily habit. That was, until one of Jimmy’s cows died.

(Repost but followed from the first part)

#life series #jimmy solidarity #traffic smp #double life ranchers #ranchers duo #tangotek #double life

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writtenonreceipts · 11 months

Text

Part One // Part Two // AO3 Link

Sometimes I think I shoulda turned this into a full length 25 plus chapter fic. Other times I remember my sanity is hanging by a thread. Enjoy the chaos of expedited plot and questionable development.

To those of you who have been patiently waiting for this conclusion: Thank you for being here! I love you.

Warnings: mentions of torture/violence, death, blood, and injury. ~13k words

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Howling Moon--Part 3

The familiar was gone.

No matter what he tried to do, Rhys couldn’t sense it, track it, or summon it. He’d tried everything in the hours that Feyre had been gone. But the creature either wouldn’t, or couldn’t, reveal itself. And that did not sit well with him.

As a new day approached, Rhys stood in the small clearing from just last night. Nothing had changed since that strange fog had taken Feyre. According to Mor, who was a little more versed in witches magic than he, it was a summoning charm. Someone had been looking for Feyre and chose last night to take her. Rhys had no idea why someone would do such a thing and without the familiar, he doubted he would ever learn anything that would give him the answers he desperately wanted.

He kicked at a loose rock and looked everything over. Feyre’s blown out candles and the few crystals she’d brought were scattered around. There were even sachets of herbs. He wondered if he should collect the items or if that would be taboo or unwelcome in anyway.

He didn’t know anything about witchcraft. His mother had tried to teach him some things, before Benham had forbidden it. Alanna had grown up the daughter of a werewolf, but she’d always had a peculiar talent for witchcraft. She took great pride in educating herself on the rest of the supernatural world. Benham, a purist, couldn’t have cared less about witches. Unless they were being burned in public again or otherwise ostracized.

Rhys tucked his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and sighed. As soon as Feyre had been taken; he’d begun to shift back to his human form. It had come automatic, the urge to change, and once it began, he couldn’t stop it. Something about Feyre being ripped away from him so suddenly churned his gut. He’d been moments away from snapping at her, scaring the living hell out of her, and then she’d been swallowed up. And everything changed.

Now, he was back here again, not bothering to put on anything else on the cooling autumn day. Just sweats and a thick flannel.

There had to be something he was missing.

Heavy footfalls sounded in the trees and Rhys turned toward them. It didn’t take long before Cassian and Mor appeared in their wolf forms.

Cassian’s enormous shape was nearly double Mor’s and his coloring far darker than hers. They didn’t bother shifting back to humans. Not only would it take too long but they’d be leaving soon enough as it was.

“Anything?” Rhys asked.

No, came Cassian’s reply to his mind.

A wolf pack was psychically linked and they could communicate without actually talking. It was easier to be done in wolf form, but since Rhys was the alpha the strain didn’t affect him as much as it might others.

No sign of the familiar. Her scent isn’t anywhere in these woods, Cassian continued. We went as far as the borders to Vanserra’s pack.

Rhys grunted. It was probably smart of them to stay away from Beron. They had enough issues to deal with without any of that.

“Has Amren found anything?”

Mor shook out her golden fur. No. But, she won’t go to Spell-Cleaver either.

“Of course she won’t,” Rhys muttered, shaking his head.

Amren was a very interesting wolf who technically wasn’t even a part of his pack. She preferred remaining by herself, but had decided to stick around Velaris for the time being. She was not only stiff with pride but Rhys was certain she could kill an Attor just by looking at it. Why she didn’t want to be the leader of her own pack, he’d never know and he didn’t want her to kill him for asking.

“Is there anything you can tell me?” Rhys pressed.

Mor and Cassian shared a look. Then Cassian let out a great huff and flicked his nose to the East.

There is the scent of another witch. It’s new, not been here long. We didn’t do anything other than watch it for a few hours.

Many witches tended to be migratory as they looked from ingredients to spells, magically enhanced ground, things of the like. And it wasn’t like there was any immigration laws against such a thing. Rhys tried not to worry.

Mor’s tail twitched. Nothing interesting happened. Azriel is looking for the sisters but he hasn’t tried to contact us.

“Me either,” Rhys murmured. He clenched his jaw and stared off into the trees. He couldn’t help but think this might have been his fault. For chasing after Feyre like she was the enemy and not being cognizant of another threat. She’d told him he didn’t understand. She’d said she was trying to help him. “Go watch that witch. Only to learn. I don’t want to spook them or make them wary.”

Both Mor and Cassian turned to leave.

“Mor,” Rhys added. She paused and he could practically see an eyebrow raise even if wolves didn’t have them. “I want to talk to you.”

Cassian pulled away and headed off into the trees where he would wait for Mor when Rhys was done with her.

She sat back and stared up at him. For all intents and purposes, she looked utterly innocent. Rhys shook his head.

“Who was your source?” he asked. She didn’t move. “When you told me not to touch Feyre Archeron, you said you’d heard from someone she was the one who summoned the Attor, that she was the one hunting our pack.”

Mor shifted and Rhys could imagine her delicately brushing her hair over one shoulder or picking at a nail.

The wraiths, Mor began slowly, and I know they are just as bad as a vampire in terms of trust, but these two are smart. They know things. They’ve given me good intel before. And they told me that the Archeron witches are…strange.

“They’re witches, of course they are,” Rhys said, impatiently.

They don’t touch black magic. At least, two of them don’t. They haven’t spoken in years even though their coven lines are still intact. Mor paused. Their father disappeared two years ago. They don’t fit into the world, Rhys. They’ve always been different. Especially after their matriarch died.

“And this means Feyre’s untrustworthy?”

She’s the only one that stuck around, Mor shifted in means of a shrug. And her familiar…her familiar isn’t natural. That’s all they told me. They said the Archeron’s are strange creatures who have strange magic. What was I supposed to think, Rhys? I’ll protect my pack before I see anything taint it.

From what he could tell the conversation with the wraiths had been a mere mess of circles.

Just because something took her, doesn’t mean she’s innocent, Mor added. She could be in the middle of an elaborate set up. Your blood, Rhys, could incite some powerful magic.

“She had plenty of chances to hurt me before,” Rhys replied. When Mor said nothing, Rhys sighed. “Go with Cassian. Let me know if anything strange happens with those witches.”

Mor nodded and then took off into the trees.

Rhys waited until he couldn’t hear the patter of paws in the underbrush. He waited until a breeze wafted through the trees. He waited until the mid-morning sun began its slow descent into the afternoon haze.

A witch needed her coven. Even if Feyre hadn’t spoken to her coven in years, they would still be the best chance of finding her. Wouldn’t they?

He gave one more cursory glance around the clearing before turning and heading back down the trail that would eventually take him to his car.

Whatever Mor might say, Rhys knew Feyre wasn’t trying to trick him. There was something telling him to trust Feyre, some subtle pull deep within him that wouldn’t let go. So he hurried down the mountain and back to his car. He would go to Feyre’s shop and see if there was a way to contact her sisters there. Or if there was any sign that she’d been in trouble with anyone. It wasn’t much, but it was the best lead he had.

…

The cellar was turning into a nightmare. A cruel sort of nightmare that ate at every insecurity and fear Feyre had ever known.

It was small, barely more than five paces by five paces. The doorway at the top of a small set of stairs was carefully crafted so it remained snug when closed, making everything utterly dark. It was as though she were buried alive with a very long timetable stretched out before her.

She tried her best not to freak out. It wouldn’t help her in the least. The only thing it would do was alert her captor to the fact that she was frightened. And that was a sure way to lead Feyre to even more misery and woe.

Her captor was a witch. Amarantha. A strange name that Feyre didn’t recognize. Still, Feyre couldn’t help but feel that there was something familiar about her. Feyre might have given her advice or sold her something at some point. Or it was in the way she carried herself. She was a confident woman who looked down on Feyre as though she were merely a worm.

She wished she knew what the woman wanted. But all she’d done when she’d visited was flaunt Feyre’s situation and croon over the woes of being outsmarted. It must be one hell of a plan if the one random witch you captured was the cornerstone.

Feyre scrubbed her face with her hands. This was madness. It really was. She had no idea who the woman was or what she could offer her. She was just a witch who ran a mediocre apothecary. If Amarantha wanted real talent she would have done better going after Elain or Nesta.

Elain with her penchant for plants and Seer work. Nesta who could call upon death and flames.

Feyre had no specialty. Nothing that she could claim as her own. She was a good little witch who kept a good little apothecary. She wasn’t anything special. All she could do was summon a very strange, very volatile familiar.

Amarantha was sure to be disappointed by whatever she forced Feyre to offer up.

As near as Feyre could tell it had been two days since she’d been brought here. She’d been given two water bottles for each day and a handful of granola bars. There was a plastic bucket in the corner that she could relieve herself in.

Realistically, Feyre knew this wasn’t the worst it could be. She could be tied down, she could be naked and starving, she could be dead. Nothing had been done to her beyond being trapped in the darkness. Underground. Which, honestly, was Feyre’s worst nightmare. She’d long struggled with the dark, long struggled with the unknown things that could lurk in the shadows. As a witch, she should have been able to use magic to protect herself, but Amarantha had bound her magic.

A precaution dear. I do need your promise that you won’t do anything…rash…before I can let you have access to your powers again.

Feyre knew that Amarantha was controlling her, manipulating her into giving in. She also knew it was only a matter of time before the other witch snapped.

“Bryaxis,” Feyre whispered, running her fingers over her tattoo. No matter how many times she’d done so, she’d never gotten a response. She couldn’t help but hope though. Couldn’t help but keep waiting for that subtle presence of comfort of their bond.

She had to get out of here. No amount of pacing or investigating the cellar door had told her anything other than what she already knew. There was a spell in place, layered with iron and salt, that no amount of mundane persistence would alter. Her only hope was that perhaps, Amarantha would choose to move her.

Once she got out of the cellar, her magic would come back. She’d be able to summon Bryaxis. She’d find help. Maybe Rhysand—

Rhysand.

Rhys.

She’d been able to gloss over thoughts of him for a while now, but it was impossible to forget him entirely. He thought she’d betrayed him. It had been obvious given that look in his eyes as he’d surged over her. She’d felt the hurt and the anger rolling off of him. And then she’d simply vanished in a puff of smoke and magic.

Did he know what had happened? Did he care? Or did he simply think she’d chosen the easy way out and was never going to come back?

Those thoughts sat heavy within her. She didn’t want him to think any of that about her. Sure she had her reservations about werewolves, but she’d been beginning to think that Rhys was different.

As she’d been working on her own summoning charm with the Relic, she’d felt old magic pulling at her. And when she’d been directing the magic to pick out ties to Rhys and his pack, there had been something innately powerful there. She’d been able to feel the strength of his pack, the loyalty, the love. Rhys was the most powerful alpha she’d ever heard of in this generation—and he cared. He cared about his pack, about the magic he represented, and he cared about Velaris.

He’d trusted her and she hadn’t been honest with him. Not about Bryaxis, not about the magic she was doing. Not that she minded lying to him. She still felt he deserved at least a little honesty. She shouldn’t even be giving him this much thought.

Her slow descent into madness halted when the cellar door creaked open.

Fresh, cool air raced down the steps and enveloped Feyre. She shuddered at the chill and also at the relief when golden light raced down the cellar steps. If Feyre had to guess, she’d say afternoon was beginning to fade.

Amarantha stood at the top of the stairs, choosing not to come down to Feyre this time. Maybe she’d just chuck the next water bottle and a granola bar at her. But after a moment, Amarantha slowly decended into the cellar. Her steps were light on the old wood steps, the only noise was from the groan of the old wood under strain.

Standing on the last step of stairs, Amarantha gave Feyre an assessing sort of look. Feyre felt a chill rise on the back of her neck. Even surrounded by wards and iron there was a distinct pulse of power around the other witch. Feyre swallowed stiffly and lifted her chin.

“Well, little witch,” Amarantha said, “are you ready to obey?”

If she’d had any saliva left in her mouth, Feyre would have spat in the other witch’s face. As it was, she only stared with hardened eyes and as much bravado as she could muster.

Amarantha grinned. It was a sharp smile that could have ripped Feyre apart.

“You know you can’t escape this, dear, it will be better to just comply now,” Amarantha said. Her lilting voice sounded so calm and assured, as though she’d already won this little game.

And maybe she had, Feyre had no idea what was going on—no idea who this witch was or what she wanted. Amarantha had the advantage and Feyre didn’t like it. She usually always had a plan for things or always had some inkling of an idea of what the next day would entail. But here she was thrown in the deep end of a mad woman out for blood.

Feyre cleared her dry throat. “I don’t even know what you want. You never did explain that.”

That same, slow smile crept across Amarantha’s face.

“You took something from me,” the witch said, “so now you will pay the price.”

Setting her jaw, Feyre didn’t waver. “That doesn’t really sound like me. I like keeping to myself.”

Before she even had time to regret her bout of confidence, Amarantha crossed the small space of the cellar and slammed Feyre against the wall. The breath hissed out of her lungs as pain racked up and down her spine. Stunned by the pain, Feyre could only blink dazedly up at Amarantha. The witch curled a hand around Feyre’s throat and squeezed.

“You killed my attor, you took the werewolf, and then,” another hard squeeze to Feyre’s throat, “you broke the contract your father created with me.”

Stars danced in Feyre’s vision as she tried to gasp for air. But the last words Amarantha spoke left her breathless again.

“My father?” she asked, the words forced and broken.

What was Amarantha talking about? Her father was a lesser witch, barely capable of even simple charms. She wouldn’t want anything to do with him. He wouldn’t want anything to do with her. Elias had disappeared without a trace, lost in the grief of losing her mother. The whole reason Feyre had summoned Bryaxis in the first place was to find him. But nothing. Nothing but bitter silence.

Amarantha released Feyre so she slumped to the floor. Coughing, Feyre shuddered as she tried to catch her breath. The air in the cellar shifted, dropping colder and colder until goosebumps rose on Feyre’s arms and her breath fogged with each exhale.

“Your father,” Amarantha said, “was a lonely old man who was far too easy to manipulate.”

She crouched down until she was eye-level with Feyre. Her bright eyes gleamed in the sliver of light that slanted through the cellar doorway. She had an earthy scent about her; subtle and smooth. But Feyre couldn’t help but feel fingers of dread prodding at her. There was something unnatural about this witch. She also didn’t like the way Amarantha spoke about her father. While Feyre didn’t much care for the man, he wasn’t a complete fool.

“He wouldn’t align himself with you,” Feyre whispered. Her throat still burned and chills still raced along her skin, but she was steady. She was steady and strong and she would see this through.

“Of course he would,” Amarantha said. She tossed her long, red hair over her shoulder and laughed. “I could give him anything he wanted. All he had to do was summon the attor.”

“He’s not,” Feyre began to protest but Amarantha waved a dismissive hand.

“Anyone can be strong enough when they’re motivated,” Amarantha replied. “Even a man like him. I admit he probably did have a little help, but I got what I wanted in the end, so it didn’t really matter.”

“You wanted a demon to wreak havoc for you?” Feyre raised a brow. Sure there were plenty of supernaturals who enjoyed causing problems and mayhem and giving the humans something to piss their pants about—but summoning a demon? Feyre could count on one hand who would be stupid enough to do that.

Amarantha slowly rose to her feet as she let out a laugh. “I’m not going to tell you all my secrets. Just know that tomorrow you will finish what your father started for me.”

Reaching out, Amarantha patted Feyre’s cheek a little too harshly making the skin smart even after the witch retreated from the cellar.

When she was alone again, Feyre shuddered. And not just from the cold. She didn’t like anything about what Amarantha had said. She didn’t like the implications about her father, the mentions of tomorrow, she didn’t like how this cellar had been set up as a holding cell long before Feyre had come here.

She could smell the magic and feel it deep in her bones. Salt and iron had an ageless quality to them anyways, but this…this was different. The cellar was supposed to be carefully guarded, carefully curated. Feyre had the distinct impression she was not the first person, or creature, to be held here.

She held back from shuddering again. She would not be afraid. She would not let Amarantha defeat her, not like this. She just had to figure out what the witch wanted and that would lead her to how to get out of this mess.

Feyre remembered the way the Attor had disintegrated around her just a little over a week ago. Bile rose in her throat. She didn’t relish the idea of slaughter, even if one evil creature deserved it. But would she have a choice?

“Focus Feyre,” she muttered. Mostly she just needed to hear herself speak, hear something other than her thudding heart of the gapping silence of the cellar.

It wasn’t hard to think of why her father would go to a witch like Amarantha: to bring back her mother. For all of Elias’ faults; he’d loved his wife. Not that he managed to extend that same love to his daughters.

“It’s going to be fine,” she said. Her voice sounded dull in the small space but she would take what confidence in the words she could.

As soon as Amarantha pulled her out of the cellar, she would make a stand for herself. She would fix whatever hell Elias had gotten their family into and put an end to this madness.

…

The next time Amarantha visited her, Feyre was determined to whittle any bit of information from the witch she could. Because really, Feyre had no idea what Amarantha intended.

Elias may have summoned an attor for Amarantha, but since Feyre killed it after rescuing Cassian there was no getting the creature back. No matter what Amarantha did, Feyre refused to try and summon a new one. Besides, attor’s were very particular creatures. Usually only warlocks or death magic could bring one about. And now trapping Feyre, who really was nothing special. She wasn’t even a part of a coven anymore. Not since Elain and Nesta went their separate ways.

Feyre scrubbed a hand over her tired eyes. She was missing something. She had to be missing something.

It wasn’t until the door of the cellar opened and a pair of feet descended the steps in a leisurely fashion that Feyre realized just how much she’d been missing.

It wasn’t Amarantha that appeared in the stretch of late afternoon light but another face that Feyre recognized. Pit forming in her stomach, Feyre watched the witch with icy blonde hair and pale skin come down the final few steps, hands resting on her hips as she stared at Feyre who leaned against the wall at the far end of the cellar.

“Hello, Feyre,” Ianthe said, “I’m sorry I never stopped by your shop sooner. That spell you gave me never worked though.”

Feyre kept her expression neutral as she tried to reign in her fear. It had only been a week ago when Ianthe had come by the shop claiming to need a summoning charm. Feyre had dismissed it; people often came by to find trinkets and spells for whatever they needed. Nothing major unless there was a cleansing or banishment. But she’d never had anything dangerous happen. Rhysand not included.

“Sorry,” Feyre replied, “no refunds. It’s my policy.”

Ianthe gave a humorless laugh. “Oh, I have everything I need, don’t worry.”

The other witch didn’t approach Feyre, only paced a little in front of the steps of the cellar. She wore a pair of slim fitting jeans and black sweater. She looked more like she was ready to go to the mall then threaten Feyre with spells and magic.

“I’m surprised though,” Ianthe continued lightly, “that you didn’t see that spell for what it really was. You’re not as smart and powerful as everyone thinks you are, hmm?”

Feyre kept her mouth shut despite how hard it was not to lash out and defend herself. Ianthe just wanted to egg her on and feel powerful in her own right. But she really didn’t know what Ianthe was talking about. It had been a simple summoning charm. A little more powerful than normal, sure, but nothing concerning. She would have known.

“You can say that all you like if it makes you feel better,” Feyre said.

She shrugged as she kept her position against the far wall. The good thing about dealing with a witch was that it was easier to hide fear and discomfort. Unlike wolves or demons or the likes, witches couldn’t scent a change in someone’s temperament. So, Ianthe likely had no idea how worried Feyre was. She did have a good poker face after all.

“Though,” Feyre continued, “you still didn’t know your charm was missing a bonding agent—” she paused realizing what exactly she was saying. “You’re trying to summon another attor, you and Amarantha. That’s why you needed the charm. Kidnapping me won’t make any difference, you know. Even if you do end up killing me and using my blood or bones or what have you.”

“I know dear,” Ianthe said. With a mocking pout she faced Feyre and cocked her head to one side. “You’re just not special enough for a spell like this. But you know someone who is.”

Something lurched in Feyre's gut as Ianthe’s words slowly sunk in. Someone powerful enough to summon an attor that had been sent back to hell. Someone powerful enough to do the impossible. And there was really only one person Ianthe could mean.

“Rhysand Avitas is the most powerful werewolf, the most powerful supernatural really, to be seen in centuries,” Ianthe said, “and offering him up for an attor? We’d be fools not to think of it.”

“So, your grand plan is to…what? Lure him out with me?” Feyre scoffed. “He won’t care. He doesn’t even like me.”

Well, as near as Feyre could tell. She and Rhys were not necessarily friends. They simply helped each other out when the other needed it. Argued a bit. And sure, Rhys flirted any chance he got but that was just him. He wouldn’t care if she lived or died. And given how she lied about her father—

“You’re wasting your time,” Feyre said again, pushing back as many thoughts about Rhys as she could. “Sacrifice me, don't sacrifice me—I don’t care. But either way, you aren’t going to get what you want.”

Ianthe only raised a brow. “We’ll see about that. Rest up. We’re leaving at nightfall.”

With that, the witch left.

Shuddering, not from the cold, Feyre pushed away from the wall and started pacing the cellar. She knew even if Amarantha and Ianthe strung her up with a pretty bow and all the magic and money in the world—Rhys wouldn’t come.

She’d seen the look of betrayal in his eyes. The hurt. The anger. He wouldn’t care if anything happened to her.

And yet…and yet Feyre couldn’t help that niggling bit of fear in the back of her mind.

What if he did come?

She’d never forgive herself if something happened to him. She might be an arrogant prick, but he was her arrogant prick. Come nightfall she would have to put a stop to Amarantha’s plans and pray that Rhys wasn’t stupid enough to come looking for her.

…

Rhys never thought he would have as much association with witches as he was now. Sure, he’d admittedly been enraptured by Feyre and the help she’d provided him in recent months, years even. But that was one witch. One witch he’d been more than willing to spend time with.

Now, he was staring at three. Well, two and a half if you wanted to get technical.

The inside of the Archeron apothecary was a little too crowded for the amount of magic that crackled about. Aside from Rhys and Azriel, the other three women practically overflowed with their own magic.

Nesta Archeron’s silver-gray eyes bore into him from across the shop. She looked a great deal like her sister with the same golden blonde hair, though Feyre’s was a bare shade lighter and she had softer features. But the unimpressed brow raise and the confident stance were the same.

“So, you’re the one that got my sister kidnapped.” Nesta regarded him with a raised chin and almost sneer to her lips. She wore a pair of black pants and combat boots, a leather jacket over a gray t-shirt.

On either side were the other witches. One full blooded, the other half. The full-blooded witch had brown skin and dark hair twisted in a braid. Her smooth, pretty features betrayed nothing of what she thought, but the displeasure was evident. The third was younger than the others, only by a year or two. Her coppery hair hung straight over one shoulder, bright teal eyes hard pressed and ready for violence.

And she was part nymph. He could scent it on her—lily and salt and earth. It was a strange combination, witch and nymph, but not entirely unheard of. And for her to be accepted so readily by the two other witches...it said a lot. Witches had a tendency to have a cruel obsession with the way blood ran. But not these.

“And you’re the sister that shows up after the damage has been done,” Rhys replied.

That earned him a smile sharp as any werewolf’s claws.

“We don’t have time for this,” Azriel murmured from where he stood off in a far corner of the shop, near a display of obsidian blades. “Whatever has Feyre shouldn’t be left alone any longer than necessary.”

Rhys turned a glare to his brother. “Then please, tell me where the bitch is.”

He was met with a bland look of disinterest. Az had always been the one that Rhys trusted to find out information. Azriel always had a knack for getting what he wanted. Except for this.

Azriel didn’t flinch under the scrutiny, merely crossed his arms over his chest. That was all the response Rhys was going to get out of him but he could sense the answer well enough.

A strong witch makes for a strong ward.

And a strong witch made for destroying a ward.

Rhys was certainly powerful in his own rights. There were many magical capabilities that he possessed as a werewolf beyond shifting. But nothing he’d been able to do had broken through the wards surrounding Feyre.

“Do you know what has her?” Nesta asked. She turned her cool gaze on Azriel.

“A witch,” Azriel replied. “A witch strong enough to call an attor and know what to do with it.”

Nesta cast a look to the brunette witch who nodded.

“Give me a minute.” She broke away to begin sifting among the many shelves and cabinets of Feyre’s shop. She moved carefully and didn’t cause much of a disturbance, but Rhys still didn’t like the idea of someone else rummaging around here. Not without Feyre present.

“Emerie’s always been the best at collecting spells and knowing how best to work new ingredients into them,” Nesta explained. “She’s done the most research out of us. Gwyn—” a nod to the redhead— “is the muscle.”

Gwyn smiled at that and Rhys had the distinct impression that muscle would turn out to be the blandest descriptor for the witch.

He lifted his chin, attention back on Nesta. “And you? What are your specialties?”

Nesta didn’t rise to the bait. She looked between Rhys and his brothers before shrugging. “Nothing interesting.”

“She makes things,” Emerie called out from behind the main counter. She already began tossing herbs and other items into a large, stone bowl.

“And kills them too,” Gwyn added.

Nesta remained a mask of indifference. Though after knowing Feyre for a few years now, he should have expected her sister to be much the same. There was something far colder about the eldest Archeron though—cold and dark and violent.

“Only when it comes to it,” Nesta conceded.

Rhys recognized the small bit of regret in her words—not remorse or sorrow—but a near resignation to the fact that death was a part of her. It was something he knew all too well.

Sighing, Nesta relaxed just a fraction. She met Rhys’ gaze and nodded once. “I just want to find my sister. I felt when she vanished and I…I didn’t like it. We may not be a real coven anymore but we still are blood sisters. She’s in trouble. That much I do know.”

“You have another sister, don’t you?” Az asked from his corner of the shop. “There’s three of you? If the other were here, that might be enough to break whatever spell is masking Feyre.”

“Elain, yes,” Nesta said. She frowned. “She’s been with the Spell-Cleaver for the past few years.”

“The warlock?” Rhys asked, unable to hide his surprise. “Why?”

Helion Spell-Cleaver was not known for taking apprentices. Nor granting favors. Rather, the warlock enjoyed keeping secrets and causing mayhem. Especially where wolves were concerned.

“Elain is different and that’s all you need to know.” Nesta’s walls slammed back into place and Rhys doubted they would come down the rest of the night.

“We’ll be fine,” Rhys said. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. “And extra strength you need for the spell, my pack can provide.”

Az let out a huff of laughter. “Amren will love that.”

“My pack,” Rhys repeated coolly.

He was the damned son of Velaris, heir of the oldest bloodline of wolves left on this cauldron damned earth. He was the one who owned his wolves and saw them safe. He was the one who had power flowing in his veins. He was the one who gave it freely as needed. He was the one they called leader when the moon bled silver.

Az blinked, breaking eye contact, and acknowledged his placement in the pack.

“Cassian and Mor are finishing one last patrol,” Rhys said. He looked to Emerie who was finishing collecting the things she needed for whatever spell they were going to cast. “I don’t want to try anything without them.”

Nesta rolled her eyes impatiently. “Well, they better get here soon, it’s nearing midnight and the later it gets the more time there is for something to go wrong.”

Before Rhys could say anything, constructive or not, he heard the sound of running wolves outside. The gaits were easy to identify, he’d been running with them for years. Cassian and Mor were nearly there. Good.

“Get the door,” he told Nesta, who scowled again at him, “my other wolves are almost here.”

She waited just long enough to almost challenge him, she was a witch after all and a different order of magic flowed in her veins, but it was enough to irk him. Nesta finally flicked a wrist and with a small burst of magic, the front door of the shop creaked open.

Not long after that, Cassian and Mor entered. They’d shifted surprisingly fast on their way here. Rhys supposed that was good, having them in human form would make communication easier. Cassian’s gaze swept over the witches; his expression unreadable. Though, he lingered a moment longer on Nesta who glared right back.

Smirking, Cassian looked at Rhys. “All clear on the borders.”

“But there’s a strange ward up in the woods, just off of the 56th service road,” Mor added.

Unassuming and utterly at ease, Mor much preferred the element of surprise when it came to interacting with the unknown. And three witches were definitely unknown. Her blonde hair was swept up into a bun, her clothes loose and simple. But, much like Cassian, she didn’t miss anything.

“There’s over two hundred acres of wild land out there, there’s no way to narrow anything else down,” Mor added, “but nothing else seems to be out there. At least, not another attor.”

“The familiar isn’t around either,” Cassian added. He wore a pair of sweats and black t-shirt that was at least one size two small. Sometimes in a hurry, it was hard to find clothes that fit properly.

“That’s what—” Rhys began explaining about what the witches were here for, but Nesta cut him off, finally looking a little uneasy.

“What familiar?” she asked. She looked between the four wolves. “Who has a familiar?”

“Your sister,” Rhys said, he glanced at Mor who was always the best at detecting a lie or feigned words. “She’s had him for ages by my guess.”

“No,” Nesta said slowly, “she doesn’t. She wouldn’t, not after our father...” Nesta, for the first time that night, looked at him without any inhibition. Genuine worry laced with confusion flashed in her eyes. “Did she ever call him by name?”

“I, don’t—” Rhys began, wishing he’d had more time to ask Feyre about the familiar.

“Bryaxis,” Cassian said, “I heard her call it that when I was taken.”

If possible, Nesta’s pale skin paled further. The dark circles beneath her eyes became more pronounced and the angles of her face sharpened as she tilted her chin up to stare at the ceiling.

“My sister has a death wish,” Nesta murmured. She met Rhys’ gaze and sighed. “She was trying to find out why our father disappeared. Wouldn’t accept that he was a deadbeat warlock who didn’t care about us. Not to mention she likes causing problems.”

Nesta crossed the shop to where Emerie was finishing whatever spell she was creating. Quicker than Rhys could react, Nesta grabbed a silver blade from her side and dashed it across her palm. She didn’t flinch as she held the wound over the bowl, letting a trickle of blood ooze into the concoction. She whispered something under her breath that Rhys didn’t catch but with her words, a thin stream of smoke, iridescent and practically silver, flickered up into the air.

“Bryaxis,” Nesta said as she looked over her shoulder, “is a demon. And if he’s not here then something is very wrong indeed.”

…

Iron shackles bit into Feyre’s wrists as Amarantha dragged her through the underbrush of the forest. The other witch had been smart enough to cover Feyre’s head with a canvas sack. So even though Feyre could smell the sweet pine and aged detritus, even though she could feel blackberry vines scrape her bare legs and cool night air—she couldn’t see. And without sight Feyre had no way to know where she was. Maybe if she wasn’t as drugged as she was…

She stumbled over a tree root, pitching forward. The iron tugged painfully against her, magic burning flesh. Amarantha grabbed a handful of Feyre’s hair to keep her on her feet.

“If you take this bag off my head, I’d be able to walk better,” Feyre said, a little breathless.

“I’m not a fool,” Amarantha said. “You can manage.”

Snorting with derision, Feyre did her best to skirt around a branch that poked her side. “This isn’t how you confuse a werewolf you know. They’re going to find you. And rip you apart.”

“Oh, little witch,” Amarantha chuckled, “so young and so stupid.”

Despite the pain radiated throughout multiple points of her body, Feyre tried yanking away from Amarantha. It was dumb, she knew, to use up her strength on an action that wouldn’t do anything, but Feyre never liked being docile.

She could smell her own blood welling on her wrists, dripping down her palms. Her sweat was poignant with fear. Amarantha’s nails dug into her scalp as she forced Feyre to keep a steady path.

“You haven’t figured it out yet,” Amarantha said, “such a shame. I thought you were smarter than this.”

Feyre tried to keep her panic at bay, tried to convince herself that everything was going to be okay. She wasn’t completely useless or helpless, she knew that. Even if her magic was stunted right now she knew that she would find her moment to strike.

At least…she had to believe that.

“I know you’re pinning all your hopes on Rhys thinking I’m worth saving,” Feyre said. “But you’re as stupid as I am if you believe he cares.”

She didn’t know what else beyond using Rhys’ blood (and death) to summon the attor would do—but Amarantha seemed to think it would give her immeasurable power. Enough to bring even Velaris to its knees.

That was not a pleasant thought.

She had to get out of this. But breaking through iron chains and staving off day’s worth of sedatives wasn’t an easy thing to do. Even with the flickering flame of magic that was still burning through her, Feyre would need a miracle to see this through.

If the irons were removed that would already help her connection to the earth and her real magic source. With that she could get away and cast a cloaking charm. And then without the outside interference she’d be able to summon Bryaxis again. Hopefully. But the light that usually attended her tattoo had remained winked out.

For now, she could only remain silent as Amarantha continued to drag her through the forest.

As the night chill grew stiffer Feyre used that as her grounding force. She was fine being cold. Could use that to remind her to stay on target. That she was alive. That she would get through this. She might get hypothermia but she would get free.

Amarantha finally pulled Feyre to a stop with another sharp tug to the hair. Feyre stumbled over her feet at the abrupt motions, nearly falling into Amarantha’s side. She tried to break free enough to reach for the sack over her head, desperate for a return on her most needed sense.

Something hot and sharp pressed into her side through the fabric of her shirt. The burning sensation nearly sent Feyre to her knees. She should have known Amarantha would be so carefully prepared. It was an iron blade that would control her just as easily as the chains would.

Feyre bit into the side of her cheek—refusing to cry out in pain. She wouldn’t give Amarantha the satisfaction. She tasted salt and metal as she broke skin and focused on that instead of the immense pain radiating across her side. Amarantha hadn’t stabbed her, yet, only gave enough of a nudge with the metal that Feyre’s witch blood reacted automatically.

“Have you ever tried asking nicely? Feyre bit out, “you might actually get some success.”

She was promptly thrown to the ground.

That at least disrupted the rough sack over her head and Feyre managed to yank it off with stiff fingers. How her hands hadn’t fallen off given the pain shooting through them at the heavy iron, she didn’t know. But she would take what little function she had left. While she knew iron wasn’t completely lethal, if the chains didn’t come off soon there would be irreparable damage.

She didn’t bother getting up, knowing that anymore movement would illicit Amarantha beating her further. But Feyre managed to look around. They were in a wide, open clearing somewhere in the middle of the woods. They were in deep up one of the old service roads. Feyre only knew that from the distance they drove to get here, the rough unpaved roads, and the bare glance she got when Amarantha opted to change a blindfold to a canvas sack. Apparently, a sack was more dramatic.

Dry grass poked in through Feyre’s leggings and she could feel sharp rocks and dusty earth beneath her. They were still surrounded by trees, towering masses of cedar and pine. And while the fresh air tasted like an elixir in comparison to the cellar—she couldn’t let it comfort her.

Not when she saw Ianthe across the clearing already waiting for their arrival. She was surrounded by dozens of candles. Many were of the smaller variety, but there were also ones of the spellcaster variety with thick wax and towering flames. Feyre also noted the circle of rocks messily created along the edge of the clearing the larger ones had been marked with runes.

Already, Feyre could feel the hum of magic in the air.

A shudder rippled down her spine.

This was the type of magic she’d played with once, just she and Nesta, and they’d both sworn to never again use it. It was dark and cruel like something out of Hell itself.

The one comfort Feyre could give herself was that Rhys certainly wouldn’t track her here. Powerful or not this type of magic would confuse even the most dedicated. Unless they were explicitly prepared.

“Get up.” Amarantha kicked Feyre in the side. Hard.

Feyre swallowed hard, ignoring the tang of blood still coating her tongue. Making sure to let the chains rattle as annoyingly as possible, Feyre slowly rose to her feet. It took much more effort than she wanted to admit.

They’d been walking nearly two hours which wasn’t anything Feyre had an issue with, but combined with the iron and Amarantha’s easy deliverance of punishment her body felt stiff and worn.

“He’s not going to come,” Feyre said. “You don’t even have a full coven. This spell isn’t going to work.”

Amarantha only smirked. “We’ll see.”

She prodded Feyre in the back with the blade. To avoid the risk of getting her spine snapped, Feyre moved.

Stealing a glance at her tattoo, Feyre silently wished something had changed in the ink. But the lupus constellation remained dimmed, even the lines connecting the individual stars seemed to fade.

Bryaxis, she thought desperately, hoping that he could still hear her. He wouldn’t have left her. Not yet. Not until the debt of summoning him had been fulfilled.

She knew summoning a demon had been stupid. But she’d been desperate. Not just for protection and help. But company too. And Bryaxis had been quick to answer her. All he wanted? To be in the human realm. Oh she was certain he got into his own sort of mischief, but nothing that ever came to her attention. So it couldn’t be all bad. Could it?

Her mind remained silent, though, telling her that he either wasn’t near, hadn’t heard, or decided to break their bond and see her killed.

That was far from comforting.

Feyre let Amarantha prod her across the clearing until they met Ianthe. The blonde was dressed in a dark blue gown with her hair hanging loose down her back. Amarantha too had chosen to wear a black gown herself even to trek through the mountains.

In her leggings and sweater, Feyre was far too underdressed. But she’d never understood why witches or warlocks felt the need to dress a certain way for their spells. It hardly made a difference. The runes didn’t care. And she highly doubted the attor they wanted to summon cared either.

“Is everything ready?” Amarantha asked.

Ianthe nodded. “Yes. All we need is the wolf.”

“Good,” Amarantha replied. “It won’t be long; I can sense a change in the woods.”

Feyre highly doubted that, but knew her opinion was not welcome. She lifted her hands, trying to adjust the way the iron cuffs hung on her wrists, but only succeeded in aggravating her already raw skin further. She would be useless to help herself like this. Even if she did manage to get away, the iron would still impede her magic and her ability to navigate the woods properly.

“You should take these off,” Feyre said, lightly. She wiggled the chain looped between her hands. “The iron will affect your own spell. Especially one like this.”

The other witches exchanged a look.

“I’m not a fool,” Amarantha said. “You could just as easily lash out at us and ruin everything.”

“You’ve kept me bound in iron and drugged me.” Feyre shrugged. “I’m not a threat with my magic.”

How fast the last dose of drugs was wearing off was Feyre’s own business. If Amarantha was stupid enough to forget to dose her again, that was her own fault.

“Besides,” Feyre continued, “I know you won’t do anything to ruin what you’ve worked so hard to accomplish.”

She rattled the chains again for emphasis.

“She won’t get far even if she does try to run,” Ianthe said. She shrugged to Amarantha. “And she’d right about having that much iron in the circle.”

Lip twitching, Amarantha nodded once before she reached out to grab Feyre’s arm. Her slender fingers dug into Feyre’s bicep with far too much force. Just another set of bruises to add to the list.

Pulling a simple key from a pocket in her dress, Amarantha unlocked the cuffs at Feyre’s wrists. The iron fell with a heavy clatter and thump against the earth. The change was immediate. Not just in the relief from the weight but the way Feyre’s magic breathed within her once more.

“Oh,” she said in a relieved sigh. Even if she wound up dead in the next five minutes, she didn’t think she’d actually care.

“Now,” Amarantha began, but she was cut off when a howl echoed through the night.

It was soon joined by another and another until a whole pack of wolves was making itself known. They didn’t sound close, at least a few miles off. But the low call that wavered off with careful unity and strength was nearly impossible to ignore.

Amarantha cut Feyre a knowing smile. “See? I told you.”

Feyre didn’t answer. Didn’t want to. Because even if it was Rhys, he could very well just be coming to kill her. Or it could just be a regular pack of wolves. Even though regular wolves hardly tread in the same terrain as werewolves.

Amarantha and Ianthe wasted no time though. They spread out a woven blanket of black with white thread of a specific design that reminded Feyre of ancient runes straight out of the Book of Breathings. These two were idiots indeed if they were going to use such magic. If anything, they’d all die together.

On the blanket, Ianthe spread out another iron knife, a few crystals, bundles of herbs, and bones. From what Feyre could tell, they were animal bones, but she wouldn’t be surprised if some were human. Especially that one that looked like a phalange.

It wasn’t long at all that the sound of howling wolves grew closer. Feyre tensed. She wished she had a weapon. Something, anything, to protect her from what was coming.

Her tattoo remained silent. Her mind remained blank.

“Get the wards finished,” Amarantha ordered.

Ianthe scrambled as she lit a smudge of sage and herbs before she began reciting a spell.

In her own mind, Feyre started reciting a spell of her own. Nonverbal magic was a fickle thing and there was the possibility that it wouldn’t do anything, but she had to try.

A soft whisper brushed across her mind and she almost dismissed it as Ianthe’s spell at work. But then it came again. Stronger.

Feyre.

Her name. Someone was reaching out for her. Someone—

She heard the snarl of the wolf before she saw the giant loping frame. Coming in straight behind Ianthe the wolf was hurtling at a speed that should have been impossible. But the great black mass flew. In a bounding leap he broke through the trees and came straight for the line that had been set up for the wards.

“Ianthe,” Amarantha tried to warn her friend, but she was too late.

In a flash of white snapping teeth and vicious claws the wolf attacked.

Feyre watched in horror as the wolf’s jaws snapped around Ianthe’s throat. The witch scream in pain before she was abruptly cut off when the wolf bit down harder. Blood oozed down Ianthe’s pale body, bubbling around the wolf’s muzzle.

The only thing that pulled Feyre’s mind out of the haze of blood and violence were the bright violet eyes that bore into her.

“Rhysand.” There was no one else it could be.

He dropped Ianthe’s body unceremoniously leaving a thick trail of blood and saliva. Even though one threat had been eliminated, there was still Amarantha to content with, but Rhys had eyes only for her.

Feyre.

Her name brushed across her mind once again and this time she recognized the subtle undertones accompanying it as Rhys’ voice. How he could communicate with her while she was very much human, she didn’t know. But just having that small bit of him was enough to anchor Feyre.

Amarantha let out a snarl of rage. She managed to throw herself away from Rhys before he could lunge for her too, but it was only a matter of time before she had to stop running.

“Custodia!” Amarantha managed to grab the still smoldering sage and tossed it in the air completing the warding spell Ianthe had set up.

In a pulse of magic, a nearly invisible shield extended around the clearing. Feyre could just make out the shimmering edges of the magic as the ward extended down to the rocks that had been set up to line the clearing.

Just in time too because from a few yards to either side of where Rhys had appeared, two other wolves now came to a screeching halt. The ward prevented them from entering the clearing, even their howls and snarls were muted. A third wolf prowled along the edge where Feyre and Amaratha had entered not twenty minutes before.

“You can’t stop me,” Amarantha said. She stared directly at Rhys who licked blood from his maw. “You’re too late.”

Rhys growled, low and gravelly. His entire body shuddered and Feyre felt his own magic working against what Amarantha had done.

“She wants your blood,” Feyre said, voice surprisingly steady. She was still a few feet away from Rhys, being unable to move from the shock and unwilling to get any closer to Ianthe’s body than was necessary. “She’s going to kill you.”

Rhys seemed to shrug unconcerned at the warning.

Feyre rolled her eyes at the dismissal. “You shouldn’t have come.”

Another growl, this one for her specifically, that was accompanied by another word flitting across her mind. Stubborn.

And, despite it all, Feyre snorted a laugh. “Bastard.”

“Enough!” Amarantha drew herself to her full height. Her red hair had fallen in a slight disarray around her pale face. “This ends tonight. I will summon what is rightfully mine.”

Feyre put all her mental effort into pushing at the wards in a similar way she knew Rhys and his pack were trying to do. But the magic was too strong. Amarantha’s magic was at a different level than even Feyre’s.

“And for what?” Feyre demanded. Maybe if she could distract Amarantha long enough a weakness would appear. “An attor will betray you the second it can.”

Amarantha scoffed. “I am not so simple minded. Do you not know the power that can come from such a creature? One brought forth with the blood of a lycan? I will be the most powerful witch that this age has ever seen.”

She was insane. Absolutely.

“And you think the attor will just hand you that magic?” Feyre shook her head. “You’ll get us all killed.”

Rhys seemed to agree with the growl he gave and the threatening step he took towards Amarantha.

The witch didn’t have time for such arguments. Quicker than Feyre could see, Amarantha flung one hand out threateningly. It wasn’t until Rhys yelped and stumbled that Feyre realized Amarantha had thrown her iron blade.

In all the commotion, Feyre had forgotten that Amarantha even had the thing. It wasn’t silver so it wouldn’t inflict too much damage on a werewolf, at least not enough to kill easily, but it was enough to slow Rhys down.

Feyre, knowing she had to act moved toward the disrupted blanket that had held all the needed items for the spells Amarantha and Ianthe were planning on performing. If Feyre could just get to that second blade.

Her magic still felt stunted within her, even as she tried to muster a bit of extra strength and speed. She hardly made it three steps when a force slammed into her side.

Feyre went flying, skidding against the ground. When she tried to get up the force remained pressed on her like a boulder, trying to press the life out of her. Feyre reached for her magic, desperate for relief. She managed a few week tendrils that flailed around her, but nothing more.

“Really, Feyre?” Amarantha sighed, not at all impressed. “I thought better of you.”

She pointed a single finger at her, enough to keep Feyre right where she was.

Squirming and lashing out was only making it worse, but Feyre had to do something. Rhys was already gaining his balance again and from the determined look in his eyes, he would not go down easily. Even as blood poured from his own wound. His abilities were already working to heal him given how the flow up blood was already easing, but werewolves were not immortal. Given enough of a beating not even their healing magic could save them.

“Rhys, don’t,” Feyre managed to get out.

It didn’t do much good because Amarantha was already inciting another spell. With another pained yelp, Rhys collapsed to the ground. This time, his entire body started rippling and Feyre heard the distinct sound of snapping bones. Amarantha had forced him to shift.

Shifting as a wolf was already uncomfortable enough, near misery. But to be forced into it?

“Now that he’s busy,” Amarantha said. She started a new incantation, one that caused a wind to pick up and static to rise in the air.

Feyre continued fighting against the magic that held her. Even if her mind was alert, magic had a strange means of being bound. It took care manipulation and care to free yourself, especially when the attacker was careful.

Out of the corner of her eye, Feyre could see Rhys was still struggling with his forced change. Since he hadn’t initiated it—his mind would fight against his body. It could sometimes lead to gruesome results, but he was strong enough to withstand. He had to be.

Outside the ward, the other wolves were still fighting to figure a way to break through. And if Feyre wasn’t mistaken, three humans had joined them.

She didn’t dwell long on that. Not as the sharp odor of sulfur wafted in the air. Snapping her attention back to Amarantha, Feyre watched as the witch continued to work. The incantation fell easily from her lips and her hands moved as though carving various runes straight into the air. Before her a halo of red light started to form.

She was really doing, then. She was opening a portal for the attor. Rhys’ blood had been spilt and having Ianthe’s dead body too would likely help as an incentive.

Feyre pushed against the iron wall in her mind. She pushed and shoved and fought with all her remaining strength. The attor hadn’t appeared yet, she still had time to stop Amarantha.

The thing about Amarantha was she was far too confident in her own abilities. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing in some cases. But in this instant, Amarantha had severely underestimated her.

Slowly, Feyre began to pick and poke and prod at Amarantha’s threads of magic. She could deal with stinted magic and simply attack with grit and spite and she would be fine. Amarantha was so enraptured by the opening portal that she’d even loosened a bit of the magic that was holding Feyre down.

The portal was quickly opening, though. The red light was darkening with thick rings of obsidian black. It wouldn’t be long now.

Feyre started murmuring her own spells, ones that would counteract Amarantha’s. That combined with her sheer determination and Feyre was already able to push herself onto all fours. She looked at Rhys who was now a crumpled form. He at least looked mostly human now. Utterly naked, but human.

A high-pitched scream erupted from the portal. It was near deafening and Feyre forced herself to endure it. She didn’t have time to slow down. She just gained her footing when light slanted from the portal. It was bright, nearly white even with the red and black outlines of the actual portal. The split was unsettling.

Through the open portal, a long skeletal hand forced its way through. The fingers resembled claws as they swiped at the air. The forearm was quickly followed by a thin bicep and shoulder. Then the face appeared. It was just as horrible as Feyre remembered with a too wide mouth full of too sharp teeth and deadened black eyes.

There was another scream as the attor gripped the edge of the portal with one hand as the other clawed its way through next.

“Claude portam,” Feyre whispered. Close the gate. Her head throbbed and her body ached and she was certain that she wasn’t actually accomplishing anything. She nearly stumbled as she took a step toward Amarantha. “Claude portam.”

A sharp pain lanced its way across Feyre’s arm. She looked down to see the lupus tattoo had started to glow. Her heart skipped a beat.

Feyre looked at the portal with the attor still fighting its way out of hell. If a portal was open and if Bryaxis hadn’t been speaking with her…

“Bryaxis,” Feyre said with as much force as she could muster. “Come to me.”

The shift was instantaneous.

Muted static crawled through the air as the light of the portal pulsed once, twice. The attor’s body fell back within the confines of the portal and Amarantha screamed.

The attor disappeared entirely as a black shadow poured over the lip of the portal. The shadow slowly took shape into something twisted with long limbs and a hunched back. Its shaggy head cocked to one side and a pair of bright yellow eyes glared out over the scene.

When Bryaxis had first appeared to her, he’d been a simple dog. Giant to be sure, some old Irish hound if you had to give him a class. But nothing as horrifying as the creature that emerged from the portal now.

With a long shrieking howl, Bryaxis lunged for the attor.

It was as good a distraction as any.

Feyre spun and started to look for the other iron blade. She wouldn’t have long to get it. She ignored the sight of Ianthe’s dead body and yanked on the ceremonial blanket. When the blade dropped out, Feyre grabbed for it. It burned her skin, the heat sending painful waves up her wrist and arm, but she ignored it. She barely had time to turn before Amarantha was on her.

Beyond them Bryaxis was yanking the attor back to the portal. The scent of sulfur and blood was heavy on the air.

Amarantha flung a spell out in Feyre’s direction, messy but true.

The air squeezed out of Feyre’s lungs, pulling a gasp from her lips as she floundered at the loss. Her entire body convulsed as Amarantha only grinned above her. In the distance, Feyre could hear Rhys yelling for her from his bindings. Her name was a desperate plea left only for the gods.

“Poor little thing,” Amarantha crooned, grabbing a fistful of Feyre’s hair and yanking.

Feyre gasped again, desperate for any bit of air to fill her lungs. That damned spell cinched tighter. She leaned toward Amarantha as if that would offer some relief.

“I guess you never were—”

And then Feyre struck.

Her arm snapped forward with the little energy she had left in her body, even as her vision started blackening at the edges. The iron blade struck home in Amarantha’s gut. Hot blood oozed from the wound as Feyre withdrew the blade and struck again and again.

Amarantha collapsed before Feyre, her lovely face still a mask of shock and pain. As the last vestiges of air left her, Feyre’s own breath returned.

Beyond her, the portal and its hissing static gave another crackle, the red light rapidly dimming. There was no sign of the attor as the portal slowly sunk in on itself, fading as the last vestiges of Amarantha’s power fizzed out.

Feyre flung the iron blade to the side and fell to her knees. As she gulped down air, she was vaguely aware of someone running towards her. Two someone’s.

First, there was a great heap of black fur emerging from the black shadows of the vanished portal. Bryaxis, whole and now a dog, loped toward her.

Second, there was the tall, broad frame of Rhysand. He’d finally finished his transformation to his human form, but he couldn’t seem to stand properly. Instead, he crawled to her on his hands and knees, blood still weeping from the gash on his side.

“Feyre,” Rhys spoke, voice ragged. “Feyre, are you alright?”

Bryaxis growled at the wolf and angled his body between them. “This is your doing.”

Whatever Rhys said in reply, she didn’t hear. Another high-pitched ringing had begun screaming in the back of her head and she felt as though her entire body were about to break apart. She only had a moment to gaze into Rhys’ violet eyes before she pitched forward and passed out.

…

She awoke to a giant, smelly mass of fur in her face.

Groaning, Feyre swatted at the fur. At least, she tried to. Her arms were heavy, feeling like lead cudgels that wouldn’t move. It smelled like sweat, salt, sage, and blood. Magic. A familiar shade of magic she’d recognize anywhere.

Feyre opened her eyes to the pale light of dawn that stretched across her bedroom from the windows on the opposite side of the room. She could make out her art equipment, her laundry chair, and an old spell book she’d borrowed from an old friend. Everything was familiar and as it should be. Even the giant wolf paw that pressed against her bladder.

“Get off Brax,” she groaned, pushed against the paw and the rest of the giant body next to her.

It was then that reality caught up with her. Her entire body pretested each of her movements and a dull ache thudded at the back of her skull.

Too many images flashed through her mind all at once. The woods. The portal. Ianthe dead on the ground. Bryaxis twitching in pain. Amarantha holding a knife to Rhys’ throat.

Feyre sat up abruptly, a gasp choking in her throat. The warm form on the bed next to her disappeared and was replaced by another and a pair of warm hands gently cupped her cheeks.

“Feyre? Feyre, open your eyes.” The voice held too much authority for her to ignore that she immediately obeyed.

Rhys stared back at her, violet eyes intent and even filled with concern. He ran a thumb over her cheek, not saying anything as he just kept watching her.

It took another minute for Feyre to find her voice and when she did speak, it was raspy and hollow. “Rhys?”

“Hello, darling,” he said, a small smile quirking one side of his mouth. But the lilt of amusement didn’t mask the circles visible beneath his eyes or the uneasy pallor of his usually tanned skin.

She had no idea what to say. No idea what exactly had happened after she’d stabbed Amarantha, but she did know that Rhys’ grounding presence was keeping her from teetering over the edge.

He kept one large hand curved against her cheek while the other trailed down her arm, running in soothing circles against her skin. He remained seated on the edge of the bed, not coming any closer and not drawing away either. In her peripheral, Feyre noted Bryaxis’ large form perched resolutely at the door.

“Are you alright?’ Rhys asked. His brow furrowed in concern at her continued silence.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. Because really, she was still in shock. She unconsciously leaned into his touch, seeking out his warmth as though it were the one thing keeping her sane. “I don’t…All I remember…there was so much blood.”

That was enough for Feyre to break eye contact and she looked down at her hands. They were clean, a little battered with a few scars and bruises from the iron chains, but no blood. There should have been blood. There should be blood because she had killed Amarantha.

As if reading her thoughts, Rhys gently tilted her chin up so she had to look at him again.

“You did what you had to do,” he said. There was no disgust or hatred or judgment in his eyes as he spoke. “She would have killed you if you’d tried to spare her.”

He might be right, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

She could only nod in acknowledgement of his words. If she tried to speak, she knew she would start crying. She still needed answers though.

“What happened?” she asked, “everything is a mess in my mind right now.”

“As soon as Amarantha died, the spell she was working went with her. It was already weakened without Ianthe that she couldn’t hold it on her own much longer. The portal disappeared and the shields with it. We thought,” Rhys paused as a bit of pain lanced across his features, “we thought you would go with it, vanish with the portal because she tied you to it. Because of me. But Bryaxis—”

“My duty has been fulfilled,” the familiar interrupted for the first time. He hadn’t moved from his vigil by the door, but he remained perfect alert.

“I guess you’re,” Feyre agreed. In summoning Bryaxis, Feyre really hadn't meant to bring forth a demon. But it was an excellent means of protection. “But you’re still here.”

“I’m a demon,” Bryaxis said, “I do as I please.”

That got a smile out of her. The first one in ages it felt like.

Rhys let out his own huff of amusement. “He was helping to keep you tethered to this realm. After that and we were able to reach you, we did what we could. My pack that is. Our magic doesn’t transfer to witches very well, and your sister and her friends were busy cleaning up after Amarantha.”

“Nesta’s here then?” Feyre asked. She thought she’d been hallucinating. In the wild events of what happened, Feyre had seen her sister. She’d just never thought Nesta would come to her aide…hadn’t realized it as a possibility.

“Refused to leave until you woke up,” Rhys said, “she spent most of her time in here with you until you woke up. But Cassian convinced her to go eat something.”

“And she didn’t kill him?” Feyre knew her sister and if there was one thing Nesta hated it was being told what to do. Then she realized something was off about what he’d said. “How long was I out for?”

He winced slightly. “Just a day. And a night. Somewhere around thirty-six hours? Mor was monitoring you. It’s fine.”

Feyre whacked him. It seemed the only reasonable thing to do. “You’re a prick!”

“Ow! I’m sorry but at least you weren’t doing anything else stupid. Ow!”

She’d whacked him again for good measure. Though he was smirking now so it probably wasn’t having the desired effect.

“If you murder him, mistress,” Bryaxis spoke up again, “I will gladly hide the body.”

And with that the demon disappeared in a puff of smoke, officially leaving Feyre and Rhys alone.

“I’m so glad my near-death experiences amuse you,” Feyre said. She pulled away from Rhys now, reluctant but needed. It wouldn’t do good to get close to him. Not after this mess. She wasn’t ready to get out of bed though, so she sat up a little straighter and leaned against the headboard. Someone, Nesta most likely, had helped get her changed into a clean pair of clothes. She now wore a lost t-shirt and sweats. Oversized and utterly comfortable.

Rhys didn’t take the same amusement from her words. He frowned, shaking his head. “That was the worst night of my life, Feyre.”

“Amarantha stabbed you!” she exclaimed. How she’d let that detail slide, she didn’t know. Feyre reached out, fully intending to yank his shirt off if necessary, just to get a look at the wound.

Rhys grabbed her wrist, careful of her own still healing wounds, and kept her at bay. “I’m fine. Werewolf, remember? I heal quick.”

“I thought you were dying,” Feyre said, the levity of earlier evaporating with a snap. “She stabbed you and I thought—”

She cut herself off before she said something really stupid.

Rhys tightened his hold on her, just a bit. His fingers dug into the skin of her forearm, well clear of the iron burns and writhing black marks of holding that cursed blade.

“What did you think, Feyre?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Rhys wouldn’t let it go, however. He leaned in close. Close enough that his scent of salt and citrus washed over her making it obvious that he’d been weaving in and out of her unconscious state over the last day and a half.

“What did you think?” he insisted.

And, forced once again to meet that stupidly enthralling gaze of his, Feyre relented.

“I thought that I didn’t want you to die,” she whispered.

Even with all the grief he’d given her, their occasional spats, and everything in between—the last several weeks alone had allowed for a subtle shift. It wasn’t one that Feyre knew what to make of, or if she should even examine it further. But she knew that felt instantly better just by having him close. Just by feeling the warmth of his body radiating against her.

The words were far more honest and bare than anything she’d admitted to anyone in her life. Not like this.

“Didn’t want a world without me?” Rhys teased with a smirk.

But there was no mistaking the worry in his gaze, the circles beneath his eyes, and the careful way he held himself a respectable distance away.

“That’s not funny,” Feyre said.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was reaching out and trailing her fingers along his jaw. A fine layer of stubble scraped her skin. She’d wanted to touch him for ages, wanted to make sure he was a solid force. She could still see the way his body shuddered in his forced change. Still hear his snapping bones.

And cauldron damn her, but she’d been terrified.

Feyre didn’t know who moved first. Maybe it was her thriving on the fact that somehow they’d survived. Or maybe it was him acting on the simmering tension that had existed between them. But they collided together with enough force to press Feyre into the headboard.

It was a messy kiss that was desperate and hungry. Feyre didn’t even bother to try and restrain herself as she plunged her fingers into Rhys’ hair and pulled him closer. All she was aware of was the rapid beat of her heart and the way her body demanded more.

She would have been perfectly content to spend the entire day just as they were with Rhys pressed against her and the promise that there was nothing else demanding their attention.

Rhys pulled back, with effort, given the small groan vibrating in the back of his throat.

“Feyre,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers. There was a breathless quality to his voice and a lingering look to his gaze.

“You’re going to tell me to go back to sleep, aren’t you?” Feyre asked, amused. She curled her fingers through his hair, not quite willing to let him go.

“You were kidnapped and drugged,” Rhys said. He ran a soothing hand up and down her arm until his fingers trailed along the black marks left behind from the iron blade. “You need to rest.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes. “I’m fine. You were the one that was stabbed.”

He left no room for argument, however, as he pulled back even further.

“I’m going to get you something to eat,” Rhys said. “And drink.”

“Wait,” she said, “just wait.”

She didn’t even try to kiss him again but simply wrapped her arms around him. She wouldn’t admit it, didn’t know how, but she just wanted to be held. To have him close and not feel alone.

Rhys melted against her. In the fold of his arms, Feyre finally felt safe. After the nights in the cellar (even in the last weeks and months) she’d been left alone and she just wanted to feel something other than that panic, that fear.

So Feyre buried her face in the crook of his neck and let his scent wash over her. Rhys’ lips grazed her temple and he murmured softly in her ear. Feyre didn’t know what he said, she was already drifting back off to sleep, but it was enough to cause a small ember to burn in her chest. She had no idea what the future held but she decided that no matter what came—it would be alright.

end.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

sweet mercy.

thanks for reading and to the five of you who have been patiently waiting for this conclusion. LOVE YOU! <3

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #howling moon #witch!feyre #werewolf!rhys #acotar fic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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