#seeing him get beat up and made fun of these last chapters has been delightful

[palebonedry]

fantasy has become reality

[lastbluetardis]

Sacred New Beginnings (16/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU

This Chapter: Teen, ~5200 words

AO3 || Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 |

“Is it all right if I bring a guest along to dinner?”

James shoots off the text to his mum while he waits for Rose to finish her shower. It had taken every ounce of strength and resistance to not join her, but he really does want to take Rose on a date, and knows that they’ll only fall back into her bed if he continues to be in her presence while they are both unclothed.

His phone chirps in his hand, pulling him out of his fantasy of a wet, soapy, naked Rose.

Of course. Which guest?

James smiles to himself and replies, “I thought you might like to meet Rose.”

A beat passes before his phone rings.

“You made up with Rose?!” his mother squawks when he answers. “Oh, that’s wonderful, darling!”

He’s beaming like an idiot. “Yeah, I chatted with her last weekend. Told her how I was feeling. She wanted some time to think, then invited me over last night to tell me she might be feeling the same way.”

He’s trying so hard to avoid the “l” word, since his mum is a hopeless romantic, but it’s nearly bursting out of him to say that he’s actually falling in love with Rose Tyler. Like… real love. Not lust. Not a pre-agreed-upon hook-up so he and his partner would each have someone to take to their respective publicity events. But something pure and good.

“We’ll come ‘round at 6,” he promises as he hears the water shut off. “Bye.”

He hurriedly dons his clothes from yesterday, itching to get home so he, too, can shower. He’s lacing up his Chucks when Rose steps into the bedroom, dressed in bootcut jeans and a long-sleeve London jack shirt, her hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders.

“Nice shirt,” he comments.

She flattens her hands down the garment and asks, “Is this all right? I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do today.”

“I don’t have a plan,” he admits, shrugging. “Let’s just… drive around for a bit. See what catches our fancy.”

She’s more than agreeable, and, minutes later, they’re in the backseat of his security agent’s car, being driven to his house. The agent, Zach, is perfectly respectful and asks no questions, but James can see his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror time and time again to catch glimpses of him and Rose.

The ever-present paparazzi are camped out at the end of his property line, and Zach inches past them (though James has a morbid desire for his driver to run them all over) to pull into the garage.

James thanks Zach, then dismisses him from duty, promising to call if he needs anything, before guiding Rose into his house. It feels so much colder than her homey little flat, and James is desperate to leave.

But first, a shower. He feels absolutely disgusting, in his old clothes from yesterday with the grimy texture of old sweat and sex covering his skin.

“Make yourself at home,” he tells Rose, kissing her softly.

He takes the stairs two at a time and can’t get out of his clothes fast enough the moment he steps into his bathroom. A thrill of delight courses through him when he catches sight of a dull red mark on his collarbone, courtesy of Rose’s mouth from their morning romp in the sheets. She’d been on top, kissing him so deeply he lost all sense of himself. When she began nibbling and sucking on his clavicle, he hadn’t wanted her to stop, too consumed by the sharp pleasure zipping through him.

The mark will fade by tomorrow, but for now, James brushes his fingertips along it, grinning like an idiot and replaying those delicious memories.

He makes quick work of showering, all while racking his brain on what he and Rose could do together. They’d had so much fun together at the Renaissance Faire, so perhaps they can do something outdoorsy. Autumn activities lend themselves to being outside, and he thinks the weather will cooperate.

He pulls on his favorite pair of skinny jeans and a cozy striped jumper before going back downstairs. Rose is on his couch, leafing through his battered copy of Good Omens, which he had begun rereading after seeing it in her book collection in her flat. She glances up when he steps into the living room, and hastily sets his book back on the coffee table, as though she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“Did you start reading it?” he asks, jutting his chin to the novel.

“Yeah, a couple weeks ago. Didn’t get far though… haven’t been interested in reading lately.” She pushes to her feet and shoulders her jacket. “Ready to go?”

He rests his hand on the small of her back to guide her to his car, then they’re off on their adventure.

The first place they go is a drive-through coffee shop for breakfast and a sorely-needed cup of caffeine. Rose gets a chai latte, he gets plain coffee, and they share a selection of pastries.

“I was thinking we could go to a pumpkin patch,” James suggests through a mouthful of croissant. “I haven’t done any decorating, and Halloween’s this coming week. I always host a party. You’re welcome to come, if you want. My mates won’t take photos of us or anything, I swear.”

He would ensure that anyone who photographs him and Rose and sells it to the media find themselves banned from any future party he hosts. 

Rose grimaces, though, and says, “Sorry, I already have plans for Halloween night. My mate Shareen is havin’ a party ‘round hers, and I said I’d go.”

Even though his stomach sinks, he smiles. “That’s fine. Sounds like fun. It’s my fault for telling you about it so late.”

Rose nods, but remains silent; she instead goes back to picking off pieces of her Danish.

“Is it all right to go to a pumpkin patch?” he asks, realizing she’d said nothing about his suggestion. “We don’t have to.”

“Yeah, it’s perfect.”

Why does it suddenly feel like they’re awkward teenagers? Why is this thing with Rose so easy when they’re in the privacy of one of their homes, yet so much more complicated out in broad daylight?

James shovels the rest of his croissant into his mouth, wipes the crumbs off his fingers, then reaches over to rest his palm on Rose’s thigh. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. She covers his hand with hers, letting her fingers slip into the perfect spaces between his.

“We’re a bit daft, aren’t we?” she says, stroking his pinkie with her thumb.

“A bit,” he agrees.

“It’s like… I dunno why I keep forgetting you’re famous.” Then she shakes her head. “No, not forgetting, that’s not the right word. But when it’s just us, it’s so easy to think of us as two normal people. Then I remember that everyone knows who you are, and I’m just… me. And it’s a bit intimidating.”

His chest aches, and he flips his hand beneath hers to properly hold it. He brings her hand to his lips for a series of kisses to her knuckles.

“I don’t want you to be intimidated by me,” he whispers into her skin.

“I’m not intimidated by you. But it is intimidating that the whole world knows my boyfriend, and sooner or later they’re going to know about me. I’m working on it; it’s just a lot to wrap my head around, y’know?”

He barely hears the rest of her words, too caught up in the fact that she called him her boyfriend. He is Rose Tyler’s boyfriend! Beaming, he kisses her knuckles again.

“Take as long as you need,” he says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. And by the way, you’re not just you. I think you’re the most magnificent woman in the world.”

The smile that lights up her face is brighter than every star in the sky. They’re at a stop light, and so James indulges himself by leaning over to plant a kiss to that smile.

He doesn’t have a particular pumpkin patch in mind for their outing; typically, he purchases pumpkins from the giant cart that’s in front of the grocery store. He and Rose have settled into a calm and comfortable quiet for their drive, enjoying the autumn scenery as he leaves the city behind and heads west into the countryside. If he’s going to take Rose to his mum’s house, might as well make their date in that general direction as well.

Right when he’s about to pull over and get out of phone to look for a pumpkin patch they can visit, he spots a sign advertising a farm, where people can pick apples and pumpkins alike, as well as purchase a variety of jams and seasonal fruits and veggies.

“Wanna check it out?” he asks, gesturing to the sign.

Rose nods her agreement, and he turns off the main road.

They drive through a small town that is bustling with Saturday morning activity. People are wandering down streets, looking through windows into little shops, their arms laden down with shopping bags. It’s a quaint little town he’s never been to but has heard of.

There are more signs directing him to the farm, and he eventually reaches a tree-lined dirt road that announces itself as his final destination. He parks his car beside the dozens of other vehicles that are visiting the farm, and tries his best to not let his sudden panic get the better of him. He draws in a deep breath and glances over to Rose.

“Shall we?”

James grabs a cap and scarf from the back seat, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Rose sidles up to him and hooks her arm through his.

“All right?”

“I don’t want anyone to notice me,” he admits. “And, by extension, notice you. My mysterious blonde.”

He nearly spits those last two words; Rose merely gives him a sympathetic smile and kisses his cheek.

“If they do, we’ll deal with it,” she promises. “I don’t want to have to hide our relationship forever. Feeling like a secret… I don’t like… it makes me feel…” She trails off and shakes her head. “If losing my anonymity means I can go on a date with my boyfriend wherever and whenever I want, it’s worth it. You are worth it.”

His throat tightens, and he gathers her close, wrapping his arms around her and tucking his face into her neck. He breathes in her warm, soothing scent and takes a moment to quiet his mind, to tell himself that everything will be okay as long as he has Rose by his side.

“Thank you.” He pulls back and cradles her cheeks in his palms to angle her face up for an achingly sweet kiss that makes him forget about everything except for her.

When they break apart, James threads their fingers together and leads her into the farm, marveling at the broad swathes of green grass where sheep, cows, and pigs graze lazily. The pumpkin field is huge, with families and couples meandering around searching for their perfect pumpkin.

It’s a typical late October day, with thick, pearly clouds above them that threaten a soaking rain later in the day. But for now, it’s perfectly chilly with a breeze that gives James an excuse to keep Rose tucked into his side as they wander up and down the rows of pumpkin plants, inspecting each one with great care and precision.

James delights in holding them up to his own head and making gruesome or silly expressions for Rose, and asking if she approves of the face he’ll carve on the pumpkin. Every time she laughs at him, his body thrums with pleasure and joy, and he keeps trying to outdo himself, to get her to laugh longer or harder with each subsequent face he pulls.

“You’re ridiculous!” she wheezes when he pushes his lips back towards his gums to make a snarl, while also going cross-eyed.

He grins, dropping the silly face and setting his fifth pumpkin into the cart an attendant brought over.

“I do my best,” he says, winking and clicking his tongue at her.

She pauses for the barest of moments, then pulls her phone out of her back pocket.

“Do that face again,” she requests. “I promise I won’t post this anywhere. It’s just for me.”

“I know. I trust you.”

He doesn’t stop at the one face—he runs through every expression that had made her laugh the most, delighting in the telltale shutter click of her taking numerous photos. Her eyes dance and her face is beautifully pink from her full belly laughs, and, soon enough, he joins in too. He steps up to her, arms open, and hauls her off her feet, spinning her ‘round and ‘round while feeling like they are the only two people on the planet.

When he sets her down again, she cups the back of his neck and pulls him in for a kiss that they try to keep chaste. They only moderately succeed, as he angles his head to free up his nose so he can catch her lips over and over again.

I’m so in love with you.

He is aching to say the words, because God help him, he’s no longer falling in love—he’s in love. Deeply and wholly. Irrevocably. He’s been falling in love with her since their first unofficial date at Bad Wolf Brews, and his feelings have only strengthened with each moment he shares with her.

But he can’t come out and say it. Not yet. He doesn’t think she’s ready to hear it. After all, it took her almost a week to accept the idea that he might be falling in love with her. He doesn’t want to scare her off.

Baby steps. He can do baby steps.

“What’re you thinking about?” she murmurs, stroking the nape of his neck.

“How much I love being with you,” he says, and he kisses her one more time. “I’m glad we’re together.”

“Me too.”

They pull away from each other at the clearing of a throat. James’s heart begins to race and his palms sweat as he turns toward the person who wants his attention. But it’s not a starry-eyed fan; instead, it’s an elderly woman with a kind, open smile.

“You two are just adorable together,” she croons in an accent that is an interesting mix of American and French. “I thought you might like a photo of yourselves. A proper photo, not one of those selfies that young people are always taking. My granddaughter Libby is always asking me to take photographs of her and her girlfriend. I’ve gotten quite good, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, that’d be brilliant,” Rose answers. He’s grateful, because his mouth is too dry to properly respond. “Cheers.”

Rose hands the woman her phone, the camera app already open, then slings her arm around his waist and rests her head on his shoulder. He comes to his senses and pulls her in close, relishing the solid warmth of her body next to his, and smiles softly at the camera.

“Want another pose?” the woman asks.

James shifts Rose to stand in front of him, and he wraps her in a tight hug from behind. She turns to look at him, and he kisses the tip of her nose before settling his chin on her shoulder.

“So precious!” the woman sighs, snapping their photo again. “If only cameras like this existed when I was your age. Imagine. A camera that fits in your pocket. I never would have believed you if you’d told me that forty years ago. Here you are, darling.”

The old woman hands the phone back to Rose.

“Thank you,” James says. “Seriously. Thank you.”

The woman waves him off. “Young love is a beautiful gift. Hold on to it as tightly as you can, and never ever forget a moment of it.”

A sad glint enters the woman’s eyes for a heartbeat, but she blinks and it’s gone, replaced by a warm albeit mischievous smile. “You seem very happy, James. Congratulations. Right. Toodle-oo.”

The breath has left his lungs, and he just stares at this old woman’s back as she hobbles off to a crowd of people. A small child rushes up to her, showing off a miniature pumpkin that fits in the palms of his hands. The woman doesn’t look back, and if he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he’d hallucinated the last sixty seconds.

“Well. That was interesting,” Rose quips, infusing a bit of levity into the moment. “Got yourself some granny fans, do you?”

There’s a twinkle in her eye as she jabs an elbow into his ribs. However, she must sense that he’s still a bit stunned, because she softens and says, “It’s nice to know there’s some decent people left in the world.”

“Yeah,” he croaks. He glances down at her, and their cart of pumpkins. “Shall we carry on?”

They end up purchasing a total of ten pumpkins, which they carry to the boot of his car before wandering to the apple orchard. The attendant there gives them a basket and lets them know it’s £3.25 per kilo of apples, and goes through a wooden, rehearsed spiel about proper technique and etiquette when picking apples.

“Thank you, and have a nice day,” he finishes, before turning his attention to the next set of visitors looking to enter the orchard. “Hello and welcome to…”

“Bundle of laughs, that one,” Rose mutters under her breath as they walk, hand in hand, to rows upon rows of apple trees.

“Applesolutely unbelievapple,” he chimes in. 

She groans. “Oh, no you didn’t!”

He gasps theatrically, covering his heart as though wounded. “Rose Tyler! Do you not find my puns appeeling?”

“Applerently not,” she drawls.

He cackles, delighted, and grabs her hand before taking off running through the orchard. She shrieks, stumbling forward a few steps before catching her stride and matching his pace. He feels so free, like any other idiot in love as he sprints through the trees and past other patrons who glance briefly at them before going about their business.

James lets Rose pick most of the apples while he carries around the basket for her. They walk slowly, inspecting each tree and each fruit with care before adding it to their collection. He has no idea what to do with the two dozen apples they’ve picked, but he’s having too much fun to bring their morning to an end.

But end, it does. The same bored attendant checks them out and thanks them for visiting, looking for all the world that he wishes nobody would ever visit ever again.

“I applelaud your wonderful service today,” James says solemnly, snapping off a sharp salute. “Couldn’t’ve picked a better morning activity.”

The attendant merely blinks.

“Oof, tough crowd,” he mumbles. Louder, he adds, “Appleogies for taking up your time.”

He bows theatrically, then turns on his heel and guides Rose to the car. They only manage a few strides before Rose bends double, laughing so hard her face turns scarlet.

“Oh my God,” she manages, clutching her sides. “I don’t think that poor lad knew what you were even doing.”

“Well, his loss for not making the most of all the apple-based humor out there.” 

They wander around the farm for a little while longer, perusing the produce and selecting some seasonal fruits and vegetables. The boot of James’s car is full by the time they leave.

It’s just past noon, and they stop for lunch at a nearby chippy. Rose treats, and though it pains James to have anybody spend money on him, he doesn’t argue. He instead finds them a secluded table beneath a tree that is still clinging to the last of its crimson-orange leaves. His eyes dart around, making sure nobody is paying him any attention, but he seems to be in the clear.

Rose returns with two baskets of crispy fried fish and golden-brown chips. His stomach gurgles at the heavenly scent.

“And I got us a fizzy drink to share,” she says, setting down a large cup with a straw.

They dig in, not speaking much, but not feeling awkward about it. It’s comfortable, and James can’t help but play with her feet beneath the table, tapping the toe of his trainers against hers as they eat their lunch. She smiles into her food every time their feet touch.

With a few hours to go before he’s expected at his mum’s, James wracks his brain to figure out what else they can do to fill the time. They could arrive early, but James selfishly wants Rose to himself for a little while longer.

“Wanna drive around?” he asks lamely as they walk, hand in hand, back to his car. “Admire the scenery? Sight-see? Get a bit lost and see where we end up?”

She agrees, and moments later, they’re in his car and off into the unknown.

James only sort of knows where he is; he has driven to his mum’s house countless times, so he’s been out in this direction before, but he has never been on the roads he’s currently on. He takes the same route each time, so it feels like he’s somewhere brand new as he cruises down country roads with Rose’s fingers entwined through his.

Music plays quietly from the stereo system, and every now and then, he catches hints of Rose singing under her breath. He pretends not to notice, hoping that one day she’ll be comfortable and confident enough to sing in front of him without caring about his opinion. Not that he even has an opinion… as he’d told her, music and art and dancing are all meant to bring joy, no matter how good or bad a person is at it.

“If you could be famous for anything, what would it be for?” he blurts, wanting to hear her more of her voice, even if she isn’t singing.

She glances sidelong at him. “Dunno if I would ever want to be famous. I mean… you don’t seem to like it much.”

He winces. “It’s not all bad. I promise. For the most part, I really love it. But there are also some days I hate it. You’ve unfortunately caught me at a low point.”

She gives his fingers a squeeze and says, “Maybe an actress? I dunno, I’ve always admired how some people can make me feel so much just from their expression.”

“If you could travel anywhere at all in the world, where would it be?” he continues.

“I’m not allowed to ask you questions this time?” she drawls.

“Oh! Of course you can. Sorry, your turn. I forgot myself. I just want to know everything about you, and it’s so refreshing to not talk about myself for a change, but obviously I want you to know me too, so please ask me something or else I’m going to keep talking like this and I swear I turn into an idiot around you ‘cos I can’t seem to ever stop talking.”

Rose bursts into gales of laughter, which soothes the mortification that’s burning up his neck. He has always been long-winded, but never so much as when he’s with Rose.

She pulls her hand away from his to give him a round of applause. “I think you’ve just broken the record for the longest sentence without takin’ a breath.”

Sheepish, he grins. “It’s a problem I’ve got. I’m working on it. Quite poorly, honestly.”

“It’s endearing,” she promises, and she leans over to give him a peck on the cheek.

If he weren’t actively driving, he would have turned to return the kiss properly. But he is driving, so he does the responsible thing of keeping his eyes on the road.

“I’ll answer yours first. Is it daft to say America? I’ve never been before, and it’s just so… big. And the cultures are so different depending where you are.”

James makes a mental note to invite her to travel with him to America the next time he’s scheduled to visit.

“It’s an incredible country. We’ll have to go someday, you and I. And not to the big touristy areas. I mean, if you want to go to places like New York or Hollywood, we can. But there are so many more interesting cities to visit.”

“It’s a date,” she says.

This time as she leans over to kiss him, he’s pulling up to a stop light, so he turns and meets her head-on. Lips crash against teeth in a heated, searing snog that sends heat throbbing into his belly and between his legs. God, he wants to pull her closer, to thread his fingers through her hair, to hear and feel her moaning and…

“Light’s green,” she murmurs, pulling back with a wet pop.

“Sod the light.”

But a horn blares behind him, and he reluctantly returns his attention to driving and swapping questions and answers with Rose.

When it’s too dark to effectively admire the countryside, James programs his mother’s address into his satnav and sends her a warning text that they’ll be a little early to dinner.

I can’t wait to see your face, darling. And Rose’s too! Oh, I’m so excited!!!

He smiles to himself and listens to the artificial voice that guides him along unfamiliar country roads.

“Would you ever want to live somewhere like this?” Rose asks.

“There’s not exactly a recording studio out this way.”

“I mean, couldn’t you like… build one in your house or something?” she asks, chewing on her bottom lip.

“I like the city,” he says simply. “I love how much there is to do, and while I hate the paparazzi, I love meeting new people as I’m out and about. I love finding new restaurants or pubs or shops, because cities like London are too big and ever-changing to know all of its secrets.”

However, he would be lying if he didn’t also admit that sometimes he wishes he could run away from it all and become a hermit for the rest of his life. But he knows those maudlin moods are temporary, and he would regret his solitude once the dark clouds dissipated.

“Don’t you get tired of the paparazzi practically living outside your house?”

He grimaces. “Of course. I wish I’d had a bit more foresight when I bought the house. It was something I bought early on, when I didn’t realize the entire world would one day know my name.”

“Why don’t you sell it and move?” she asks curiously.

“Dunno. A bit of stubbornness on my part, I guess. And it’s just… it’s home. I’m used to the paparazzi by now.”

She gives his hand a gentle squeeze and rubs her thumb along the back of his. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

He doesn’t argue further, because he’s had this conversation time and time again with his mother, and doesn’t particularly feel like having it with Rose.

“We’re nearly there, by the way,” he says instead, turning onto his mum’s street.

Rose goes still beside him, then her grip tightens. “Oh my God, I should have brought something. Wine. Dessert. Something. Are there shops nearby? I could bring her flowers. Does your mum like flowers? I can’t believe I didn’t think of this.”

His jaw slackens the longer she panics, until his brain catches up and he says, “Hey, it’s all right. You don’t have to bring anything, I promise. My mum is excited to meet you. She’s not going to think you’re rude. She’s going to love you. I promise.”

“Do I look okay?” she asks, fussing with her hair and scrubbing a tissue under her eyes where her mascara has smudged a bit.

“You’re perfect,” he promises. He pulls off the road and puts his flashers on even though there are no other vehicles around. “Rose. Look at me.”

She does, and he leans over to cup her cheek.

“You’re perfect,” he repeats. He guides her face to his fore a quick kiss, then he rests his forehead on hers. “She wants to meet you, not a bottle of wine or a box of chocolates or anything.”

She will love you because I love you.

He ducks to give her another kiss. “Everything will be fine. I promise. But, er… my mum cooked. Not sure what exactly she cooked. But the thing is, she’s not exactly… a cook. Can you, er, pretend to like what she made? She tries really hard, and I’ve never had the heart to tell her she’s not that good at it. I mean, it’s all edible, and it’s fine. Just not very flavorful.”

Now it’s Rose’s turn to kiss him. She does so, very sweetly, and nuzzles her nose into his.

“I promise to lick my plate clean,” she vows, her tone dramatically serious that it pulls a giggle from him.

“Thank you. Right. C’mon.”

He pulls back onto the empty street and follows it to the very end. Two jack-o-lanterns sit on his mum’s porch, with orange fairy lights strung all around the front of the house.

“Here we are,” he says unnecessarily, killing the engine. “Home sweet home.”

James jumps out of his seat and races around to Rose’s side of the car in time to close her door for her. Tension is radiating from her every pore. He cradles her cheeks, angling her face up for a whisper soft kiss. In her shoes, he would be just as anxious as she is, but he hopes she’ll be able to pull some enjoyment from the evening.

She kisses him back, holding the nape of his neck to keep him close while her other hand fists into his jacket. He melts into her, sighing and deepening the kiss. She smiles into his lips but reciprocates with just as much reckless passion until they’re snogging lewdly against his car without a care in the world. Their mouths meet and part over and over again while their hips move restlessly. He’s growing hard in his jeans, and he has almost forgotten that he can’t exactly sneak away for a cheeky shag, when a gust of bitter wind cuts through them.

“Blimey,” Rose grumbles, shuddering.

He isn’t sure whether she’s reacting to the kiss or the cold, so he merely croaks, “Yeah.”

He takes a step away and rubs the back of his hand across his tingling, kiss-swollen lips.

“I want to keep kissing you,” she admits, even as she stuffs her hands into her pockets and hunches her shoulders against the wind.

“Later?” he asks hopefully.

She grins, then leans up to nip at his bottom lip. Sparks jolt through him, scrambling his senses while he lets out a helpless moan. God, he wants her to do that again. He wants her to kiss him and never ever stop.

“Later.”

[themosleyreview]

The Mosley Review: John Wick Chapter 4

Has it really been that long. Has it really been since 1987's classic buddy cop action film Lethal Weapon that a franchise has survived for 4 films and its sequels enriched and elevated the genre to the next level? I know Lethal and Wick are different in tone, style and many other things, but what they have in common is great central characters evolving with each entry and storytelling that is top notch in between the stylized, well crafted and sometimes personal action sequences. No other franchise in my opinion has done that in so long. Maybe Daniel Craig's run as James Bond may count as well. A fun fact that many don't remember or don't know is that the first film was being buried because the studio didn't believe anyone would like or even care about it. I remember seeing a commercial before even a trailer! What that first film did was refresh and reinvent the action genre in the most ground breaking way. It threw away the overuse of shakey cam and actually painted the frame with beautiful action and storytelling within the action. It was a great revenge tale that spawned a new world with exquisite rules and visuals that were fully realized. Now we have come to the 4th chapter in this franchise and it is the most epic, globe trotting and gorgeous finale of all. The story this time is the most emotionally driven and comes full circle with the themes of the first film and I loved it. The action this time around is that steady rollercoaster climb with every click you hear of the gears churning to the apex. I loved that the lore is even more expansive, but never burst its own bubble by going an obvious direction where most franchises have made that mistake.

Keanu Reeves returns as the titular hero and the charm of the character is still intact. He is fighting for his freedom this time around and it is a hard fought battle to the bloody end to say the least. His physicality in this film reaches a new height and you actually see him get even more beat up and tired this time around. He is human after all and that has been consistent throughout the franchise and it comes to a head here. The amount of empathy in John is explored with his closest friends and that was truly the highlight. Ian McShane was excellent and wise yet again as John's closest friend, adviser and former manager of the New York Continental Hotel, Winston Scott. Winston is taken on an equally emotional journey as he is punished for his involvement in the events of the third chapter and I loved his brilliant path of vengeance. The late and powerhouse actor Lance Reddick gives one last excellent performance as Winston's right hand man and former concierge of the Continental, Charon. I've always loved his conversations and quips when he was with Winston and John and he gets to shine one last time as the fan favorite. Laurence Fishburne returns as the Bowery King and he is as jovial as he was in the last chapter. His respect for John grows ever more in this entry and it was great to see him chewing up the scenery again. The legendary Hiroyuki Sanada joins the franchise as the manager of the Osaka Continental Hotel and an old friend of John, Shimazu Koji. There is so much history there between them and you feel the weight of their bond from the moment they say hello to each other. Rina Sawayama was amazing as his daughter and concierge Akira. She gets to shine in some of the most badass moments of the film and I loved the relationship between her and Shimazu. It was a high point in showing the emotional connection John has with everyone. The consequences of her father's actions were felt and it was a story that highlighted the Japanese influence this series has had over the years. Donnie Yen is a master class in his own right and I'm always delighted to see him on screen. As Caine, you get to see a great and empathetic character come to life through him and I loved his arc with Shimazu. He carries so much respect for his friends even when he has to face them in combat. His chemistry with John was another great highlight of the film and I loved their dialogue. I love the fact that everyone is rooting for John, but of course they have a contract and you see the inner turmoil as they all converse with him before, during and even after the bullets stop flying.

Natalia Tena was awesome as John's adoptive sister Katia and I loved that we got see their families backstory. It is bloody, dark and all the more fun story beat. Shamier Anderson was the fun and teasing wildcard as the Tracker / Mr. Nobody. He came off to me as a younger, ambitious and patient version of John with his canine companion that was just as enthusiastic. The both of them were this constant threat and interesting thread that keeps getting unraveled as the story progresses. Scott Adkins was hilarious and awesome as the heavy yet spry head of the Russian table, Killa. Even as an over weight character, he was still a force to be reckoned with. Clancy Brown brings that level of authority and gravitas as a high ranking operative of the High Table of Assassins, the Harbinger. Bill Skarsgård was excellent and exquisite as the new villain the Marquis Vincent de Gramont. He was so slimey and pompous in his ways and you cannot wait to see him go down. He was viscious in some moments and I loved his slick tongue in negotiating the terms of combat scene. Marko Zaror portrays his right hand man Chidi and he was an amazingly powerful mini boss before you got to Vincent. He was a great challenge and he handled himself well against John and others. This film truly featured some of the best villains the franchise has ever seen and I loved that we got them instead of facing the High Table. These antagonists kept the world grounded and obeyed the rules set from the beginning.

The score by Tyler Bates and Joel J. Richard was on point yet again and they pull out all the stops in every scene, but my favorite piece came during the best action scene in the film. The locations in the film were a great background and were interactive with the characters which showed how much detail and care was put into this saga. The last hour of the film is a full on homage to one of the greatest 80's survival films of all time, The Warriors. The stairs sequence was the best action sequence in the film and was the crescendo of John's trek through Paris and I loved every second of it. This chapter comes to a satisfying and peaceful close and it is a true blessing that this franchise has continued to deliver this amount of quality storytelling that's perfectly mixed with beautifully shot action that doesn't fall for the standard tropes of the shakey cam or extreme close ups to hide the stunt men or the actors inability to do the work effectively. This is now the blueprint of how to do action films from now on and how to shoot them. Director Chad Stahelski has come from the stunt world and these films have shown his understanding and respect for the craft of stunts and filmmaking. This is by far one of the best films of the year and one of the greatest epic finales I've ever seen. Let me know what you thought of the film or my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!

[screamin-abt-haikyuu]

A Comedy of Errors. Chapter 3: The Way of the Aces.

Please read the previous chapters before proceeding!!

Click here to read Chapter 1: Negotiations.

Click here to read Chapter 2: Suga the Setter.

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

Background: Y/N is a transfer student who joined Karasuno High in her second year because her family shifted to Miyagi. She is a volleyball player and plays as a wing spiker (ace) in the Girl’s Volleyball team.

Pairing: Karasuno x fem reader || Romantic Pairing: Asahi x fem reader

NOTE: Y/N plays volleyball in this. I am not familiar with all the rules of the game so pls 2 forgive if I get any of the technicalities wrong.

Genre: Fluff and comfort with sprinkles of comedy this time! || SFW

A/N: At last, the final chapter. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. I really poured my entire soul into this. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Say, since you guys are already here. Why don’t you stay and watch us practice?" Asahi's lifespan is being shortened with every word as Suga invites Y/N and Michimiya to watch them practice. Asahi waits with bated breath. Even though he is extremely nervous, a part of him does want you to stay. So, when you do say yes, he doesn't know whether to feel happy or run out of the gym screaming. As they walk off to warm up, Suga whispers to him, "I know you're probably thinking about how you're going to fuck up your play and embarrass yourself in front of her. But while you're at it, maybe you should also think about what will happen if you actually play well." Asahi nods. "Suga." "Hmm?" "Thank you. For everything you just did. I really do appreciate it." "Of course! I'm just glad it worked out well." "And you are right, I do like her. I don't know her much but I would like to." "Aha, finally some truth around here! Well, then we just gotta make sure you give her a show worth remembering!" Suga says, winking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michimiya had been watching the game intently, as was evident by her gasps and comments on everything. But you? You hadn't been able to keep your eyes off of Asahi the entire game. So much so, that you had barely given a second thought to the first years' amazing quick attack or Nishinoya's outstanding libero skills.

Asahi's spikes, his serves, his receives, his posture, his spirit, and his determination had you just...rapt with attention.

"In case you are wondering, yes, he is single." Michimiya's whisper startles you.

"W-what?" you start to blush. "I'm just taking notes!"

"But I didn't even specify who I was talking about."

You turn redder.

"He's really nice too, you know. A very genuine and kind person. I think you two would make a cute couple."

Your face is so hot now that you're sure you'll hear a sizzle any moment. You turn your head back towards the game to avoid Michimiya's gaze.

"I- I don't know who you are talking about."

Michimiya chuckles. "Of course you don't."

Even though you can feel Michimiya's gaze on you, you can't help but smile as you watch Asahi land another beautiful spike in the opponent's court.

You didn't know, of course, that you being around and watching him had been a huge boost of motivation for him to perform at his peak. You didn't know how he had been wondering what you were thinking about him the entire game. You didn't know how hard it had been for him to not glance at you after every move he made, just to see your reaction.

But he didn't know how you had felt either. He didn't know how your heart rate sped up every time he came on to serve. He didn't know you had also felt frustrated whenever his spike got shut down, feeling as though you had been shut down. He didn't know how you had wanted to shout and cheer him on but you hadn't because you didn't want to come off as a weirdo.

Truly, you would make a good couple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Practice is now over. Asahi's team won both the practice matches (of course they did, Suga would not have had it any other way). You and Michimiya walk over to the third years. As Michimiya starts gushing to Daichi about their game, you turn to Asahi.

"You were really - glorious, brilliant, like a God, I wish you were spiking me instead - amazing out there," you say, your eyes full of admiration.

Asahi instantly turns a deep shade of red.

"Th-thank you." He says with a smile.

"See, I told you he is great!" Suga says with a proud smile on his face.

"You were right. Karasuno really has a very talented ace."

"No, it has two of them," Asahi says, looking at you with a smile.

Now it is your turn to blush.

"Aah, I wish. I'm not quite there yet. I'm definitely nowhere close to your level," you say.

"I would love to help you any way I can."

"I would be honoured to learn from you," you say with a bow.

Suga piped up, "It's Saturday tomorrow! The boys' gym will be free till 10AM. If you want, we can practice here early morning. Say, around 7? Asahi can teach you the techniques and I can set for you both. We'll ask Daichi and Michimiya too if they want to join." and before you can answer, Suga is off to ask Daichi and Michimiya.

Wow, he really doesn't wait for an answer, huh.

Asahi looks at you and he can see you're a little unsure. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just... I really don't want to bother you guys so early in the morning like that."

"It's no problem at all, we usually practice early on the weekends anyway." Asahi says with a reassuring smile. That seems to melt your doubts away.

Suga walks back to you. "I've spoken to the two of them, they will join us but a little later."

"It's sorted, then." you say, smiling.

Of course, Asahi was the one who ended up walking you home that night.

Of course, Suga was "late" for the morning practice the next day, giving you and Asahi a lot of time to get comfortable around each other get nervous and DIE.

Of course, situations like these happened more than a few times.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before you know it, two months have passed. With Asahi and Michimiya's help, you improved tremendously and the Karasuno Girls Volleyball team cleared the first set of qualifying rounds for the Spring Interhigh. And so did the boys.

During this time, you and Asahi have become really good friends. Since you two live in the same area, you often end up going to school and walking home together, giving you a lot of time to talk about every topic under the sun. It took a while but you are now very comfortable around each other. In fact, Asahi himself wonders how he is able to tell you things so easily.

Both of your friend groups (and your entire school, also the neighbouring schools, random passersby, street dogs, birds flying past - you know, basically anyone with eyes) can see that you two are absolutely head-over-heels for each other. The only two people who don't know it are you two.

The way Asahi had gone out of his way to teach you everything he knew; how patiently he had walked you through every technique, every mistake; how he had sweetly asked you for permission every time before correcting your posture and showing you the right finger placement (mind outta the gutter fellas, we talking about volleyball here); how every time he did that, you felt a jolt of electricity whenever his fingers touched you (I promise it is still about volleyball); how he cares about even the littlest things regarding you; how every time he smiles reassuringly at you, the world feels all right again; how supportive and encouraging he has been through it all: You have fallen for him harder than you have ever fallen in your entire life.

And you just keep falling harder and harder every moment you spend with him. He has become your comfort now. No matter how stressed or nervous you are, just having Asahi around makes you feel much calmer and confident.

Asahi, on the other hand, has smiled more in these last two months than he has ever smiled. He can't help it, being around you just makes him feel like he is floating. He was blown away by how talented and hard working you are and is so proud of the progress you have made.

The way you are so kind to him. The way you always speak up whenever someone makes fun of him. The way you always hype him up and believe in him. The way the world seems to stop every time you smile at him. The way your laugh has become his favourite sound in the world. Asahi could not be more enamoured by you even if he tried. You too, are his comfort now. He knows he can talk to you about every "sentimental" topic on earth without being made fun of.

The only problem is: You both are afraid that this comfort you find in each other will be ruined if either of you confesses and the other does not reciprocate your feelings. It is now a waiting game to see who spikes their ball into the other's court first, if at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are shaking. Partly with excitement, partly with nerves. After defeating Tohoku High, only one school remains between you and the nationals: Niiyama Joshi, one of the most powerful schools that always makes it to nationals when it comes to the Miyagi prefecture.

The boys' game had ended earlier than yours and they had already left the stadium. You were absolutely delighted to hear that they beat Seijoh. Now, they have to face Shiratorizawa, another powerhouse school that always makes it to the nationals.

You and Asahi both have your own mountains to climb tomorrow.

As you are walking out of the stadium with your teammates, you spot something.

"Hey, you guys go ahead, I will be right there." you say and turn back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a very long day but you cannot sit still at all. You cannot stop thinking about the match tomorrow. Your hands are sweaty knees weak, arms are heavy because you keep clenching your fists open and shut as you pace around your bedroom. You had hoped to be able to meet Asahi and maybe feel a little better but by the time you had reached school, the boys had already left. You know how big a day it is for him tomorrow too so you don't want to bother him by asking him to meet. However, you should at least text him and congratulate him on his victory. You open your phone and see you already have a message from him:

Asahi: Hey, I heard you guys beat Tohoku! Congratulations! I knew you could do it.

You smile.

You: Thanks, I still can't believe we did that!!! Congratulations on beating Seijoh!! I heard it was a close match.

Asahi: Thanks! Yeah, it was anyone's game by the end. It was really intense. But we managed to win. Also, I had full faith that you would make it!

You: Damn, wish I could have seen it. Sooo, Shiratorizawa next. How are you feeling?

Asahi: Really, really nervous. They're really strong and I don't think anyone believes we can beat them.

You: Well, you just gotta prove them wrong, then! I truly believe that you guys can do it.

Asahi: I really hope so. Anyway, what about you? How are you feeling about going up against Niiyama tomorrow?

You: Honestly, I cannot stop shaking and thinking about tomorrow. We are so close and I just don't want to screw up and let my team down.

Asahi: Can you get out of your house?

You stare at your phone for a moment before replying.

You: Yeah, I can sneak out the backdoor. Why?

Asahi: Sneak out after 5 minutes. I'll be there.

You: You sure about this? It's late and you need to rest for tomorrow too.

Asahi: I'm sure and I'm already on my way.

You grab your schoolbag and quietly make your way out the backdoor. You see Asahi standing outside your house. He's wearing a purple t-shirt and is carrying a bag in his hand. He smiles and waves at you as you make your way towards him. The knots in your stomach are already starting to loosen.

"Hey, Asahi!"

"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry for making you sneak out like this but... I couldn't help myself when I read your messages."

"No, it's completely alright. Actually, to be honest, I was kind of hoping to meet you too. I-I always feel calmer after talking to you."

Asahi blushes.

"R-really?"

"Yeah."

"I always feel better after talking to you too."

You can feel the heat starting to build in your face as you smile at him in response.

Asahi continues, "I-I know I am not good with words. But I want to tell you that I know exactly how you feel. You won't let anyone down. I have seen you play and really, you have nothing to worry about. You have made it this far and you are strong enough to take it further."

His words make you want to cry. He has always shown so much faith in you. You look at the ground and don't say anything as you try to hold back your tears.

"-And I - uh - got you something that I thought might make you feel better."

You look up in surprise and you see him reaching his hand into the bag he brought with him. As you watch, he pulls out a light blue cloth. It's a t-shirt.

You gasp as you recognize what it is.

He holds the t-shirt open by the sleeves so that you can read what's written.

It's a "The Way of the Ace" T-shirt.

"Oh my God!!" you say loudly.

He is completely thrown off by your reaction as you throw your head back and laugh.

Oh no. Does she think this is lame? Asahi starts to panic.

You reach into your own bag and pull out a similar looking light blue cloth. Asahi's eyes widen.

"I bought this today at the stadium for you. I know how important tomorrow's match is for you and I knew you'd be nervous so I wanted to give you this as a motivational sort of good luck thing." you say as you hold out a larger sized "The Way of the Ace" T-shirt.

All of your tension and nerves melt away as you both stand there laughing and holding the T-shirts.

"I hope I got the right size," Asahi says as you exchange the t-shirts.

"Same."

"It's perfect!" You both say at the same time and erupt into a hearty laugh again.

"Thank you, Asahi. I feel a lot better now. Really, thank you for everything. We wouldn't have made it this far if not for your help."

"It was all you, Y/N. All I did was show you the way. You walked it on your own."

"Yeah, you showed me the way of the Ace." you say, smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The score is 30-31 and it is match point for Karasuno Girls' High School against Niiyama Joshi for what seems to be like the 100th time. It has just been ties after ties after ties and every set has stretched well into the 30s. Somewhere at the beginning of the fifth set, you looked up to see the Karasuno boys piling into the stands to cheer your team on. From the looks of it, they won their match against Shiratorizawa.

Playing such intense 5 sets back to back has taken a massive toll and the players on both sides of the court are at their limit. However, it is now your turn to serve and if you manage to get this point, you will be through to the nationals.

"Y/N, GIVE US A NICE SERVE!!" the boys cheer for you from the audience.

Your knees are quaking and you feel like you can barely stand, much less run or jump. You are so out of breath that you feel like you are going to pass out any minute. As you somehow force yourself to walk into position, you can feel your knees buckling under you.

As you stand there, waiting for the referee to blow the whistle, your eyes instinctively search for Asahi. Even though he is far, you can easily spot him due to his height and the familiar light blue t-shirt he has changed into after his match.

As your eyes meet, Asahi cups his hands around his mouth and BELLOWS.

"JUST ONE MORE. YOU GOT THIS!"

The whistle blows.

BAM.

You barely have time to realize what happened as you are tackled to the ground by your teammates. There's a lot of hugging and crying and shouting.

As you recover from your shock, it finally registers. It was a service ace. Niiyama's libero had tried to dig the ball but it had bounced out of bounds.

You've won.

Tears of exhaustion and exhilaration start to flow from your eyes as you hug your teammates.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your feet are killing you as you walk out of the locker room towards the bus, wearing your own WotA t-shirt. It's late and the corridor is silent and empty as you're one of the very last few people to leave.

"I told you you could do it."

You look up and see Asahi standing a little further ahead, smiling at you.

You don't say anything, you just walk up to him and hug him. He seems taken aback but only for a bit as, barely a second later, you feel his large arms wrap around you tightly.

You both stand there for a while, both too exhausted to speak but finding comfort in each other's arms. It just feels so...right. Like this is exactly where and how you are meant to be.

When you finally break apart, you can see that Asahi is looking a little nervous.

"S-say, Y/N. I was wondering... i-if you would maybe want to go on a- on a date with me?"

Your eyes widen in surprise.

"It is completely okay if you don't! I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anythi-"

"Yes, yes, YES! I will go on a date with you."

"Really? You really want to go out with me?"

"Yes. Honestly, Asahi, I fell for you a long time ago. I was just afraid of freaking you out and ruining our friendship. So, I didn't say anything."

Asahi let out a little laugh. "It's freaky how we think so similarly because same." He takes your hand in his. "I fell for you the day I met you. And I just kept falling harder and harder the more I got to know you. I just never imagined you would feel the same way for me too."

"I do, I do, I so do! I always have!"

Both of you have the biggest smiles on your faces as you stand there holding hands and looking into each other's eyes.

You suddenly start to blush furiously.

"So...um...since we usually seem to be thinking the same thing. Um, would you like to kiss me?"

Asahi's eyes open so wide that you're worried they'll pop out of their sockets any minute. He is blushing furiously as he simply nods and leans in.

Your heart is thundering as your lips meet. But, it's Asahi. He kisses you with such tenderness and affection that you just melt into him.

The two aces of Karasuno walk out of the stadium hand-in-hand, wearing their matching WotA T-shirts. You're going to nationals, you've found some really great friends and you have found each other. Life is good.

FIN.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, I am so happy with how this turned out. I was stuck for a while trying to decide where to go with this story and I was panicking a little about not updating sooner. But I am glad I did not hurry this up because I really LOVE the turn this took in my head which it wouldn't have if I hadn't let the ideas stew in my mind for a while.

I know this was a long read but I really hope you guys enjoyed it and it was worth the read and the wait.

Likes, comments, reblogs and follows are always appreciated. Please DO NOT repost

Buy me a Kofi! <3

[readyplayerhobi]

Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 04

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, future smut

; Word Count: 5.2k

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: I swear, it’s so hard getting back into writing because I’m permanently convinced that everything I write is bad lol. If you enjoy reading this, please let me know by leaving me an ask or writing a comment on a reblog! I appreciate all the comments I get and it helps to inspire me on <3

Last Chapter ; Next Chapter

-

The Winter Solstice Ball was a newer tradition at Hogwarts. Before the Battle of Hogwarts, there hadn’t been anything resembling the ball that would happen. The closest you knew of was the Yule Ball, but that only occurred whenever there was a Tri-Wizard Tournament. 

Something that hadn’t occurred since the unfortunate events of 1994, when poor Cedric Diggory had been murdered by the dark wizard Voldemort. As expected, it had been mutually agreed that the tournament should no longer continue to ensure there could never be another event like Diggory’s death.

Admittedly, that had been a rather unique set of circumstances. The inclusion of the wizard, Harry Potter, in the Tournament had been arranged by dark wizards on the behest of Voldemort, meaning that Diggory’s death had been even more tragic as he wasn’t meant to be there. 

In an attempt to bring more cheer to what should be a happy holiday, Hogwarts had started the Winter Solstice Ball tradition. Unlike the Yule Ball, all years were invited to attend and it also wasn’t on Christmas Day. Instead, it was held on the last day of term and was just a fun event for everyone to enjoy and let off some steam after their first semester back.

You’d always enjoyed it as a student; feeling like a grownup during the first few years and using it as a great way to flirt with boys when you were older. There hadn’t been a year that you hadn’t loved going to it.

It felt a little odd this time though as you were attending as a professor, which meant you had the job of chaperoning all the excited students for the evening. As such, you were excited for an entirely different reason as you would get to watch the First Year’s experience of the ball.

The House Elves had gone all out when decorating the Great Hall today, bringing the feeling of winter inside and taking your breath away. Standing by the open doors, you look around cavernous space with wide eyes and a bright smile. Chaeyoung was next to you, a dress of starlight gracing her body and highlighting just how beautiful she is.

You’d already complimented her as soon as you’d spotted her, admiring the elegant design of her dress and how the tiny crystals are sewn into the fabric reminded you so much of sunlight hitting frost on a winter’s day. Her long black hair was curled into soft waves with her fringe pinned away from her face with a delicate snowflake.

Where she was all light and ice, you were the sumptuous darkness of winter. Your dress was a sumptuous royal blue around your chest which slowly blended into deep midnight by your feet, a shawl of the lightest chiffon in a dark blue around your shoulders. Silver glinted occasionally, threads of it woven through the fabric of your dress and adding a little sparkle alongside the dainty silver necklace around your neck.

The two of you made a striking pair and the combination of a full face of beautiful makeup combined with the jaw-dropping dress made you feel like the prettiest girl in the room. Whether that was true or not, you didn’t care.

The hall itself matched the colour scheme of you both with long swathes of gauzy fabric in rich lavender, crisp white and shimmering silver decorating the tall windows and streaming from the ceiling. Tonight, the ceiling had been enchanted to show clouds backlit by a full moon and tiny flakes of snow fell. They didn’t reach the ground though, melting away a few metres away from the tallest person in the room.

Candles lit the room in all corners, hovering in the air and situated around the room and the tables. A large open space in the centre of the hall was reserved for dancing while a raised section before it hosted the musical entertainment for the night. Small tables surrounded the floor, each only big enough for six people and with white cloths embroidered with tiny snowflakes in silver.

Platters piled high with finger foods dotted the tables alongside empty goblets and jugs of pumpkin juice and butterbeer. A few of the ghosts that haunted Hogwarts floated through the tables, greeting the formally dressed students with cheer and getting into a few conversations with some of them.

Already the hall was filling nicely, students greeting you happily as they rushed inside to meet up with friends and a few of them had already begun to dance. Some of them danced together, trying to figure out how to ballroom dance with the typical awkwardness of teenagers discovering their hormones, and others danced in friend groups. The latter seemed to just be having fun, shaking their bodies wildly to the beat of the music.

“I remember doing that.” Gesturing towards a group of mixed house Fourth Years, you grin at Chaeyoung before chuckling at the memory of dancing like that with Jisoo, Robert and Candace. That had been your ‘group’ of loyal friends throughout your years at Hogwarts, though only Jisoo had remained a close friend once you’d all left.

“Merlin...me too. I had no rhythm back then. Still don’t. Dancing is not for me.” Chuckling, you lean into her and push until she staggers away from you a little before returning the gesture. Glancing around the hall, you note the more introverted people sitting at the tables and sipping at drinks. They don’t seem to be uncomfortable but you resolve to check up on them throughout the night to make sure they’re okay.

“One thing I do love about working with such handsome men here? They make the ball so much better to enjoy.” Chaeyoung hums over the top of her goblet of butterbeer, her refined brows rising in amusement as she looks across the hall. Following her gaze, you have to hide a smile as you take in the sight of some of Hogwarts most eligible bachelor professors and how well they smarten up.

Park Jimin is standing next to Kim Taehyung, his silver hair styled even more elegantly than normal while his dress robes look to have been perfectly tailored to his slim body. A white bow tie adorns his neck and he’s smiling at whatever Taehyung had told him. The Gryffindor Head has his usual boxy smile and you note that he scrubs up just as nicely. Together, they make a lethal pair in terms of looks.

“Now, now,” You muse lightly, looking over to Chaeyoung with mischief on your face. “We’re here to chaperone, not to swoon over good looking men like the teenagers we teach.”

A derisive snort is the only response she gives you, but you see that she’s not taken her eyes off the two younger men. Idly, you wonder which would make the perfect partner for her. You’d consider Taehyung to be a good candidate as their fun-loving natures would get on well, but there’s something about Jimin that makes you think he’d be an even better pick.

She wouldn’t even have to change her last name.

Any more thoughts you have on the subject vanish when the newest professor walks through the door. Black hair made darker from some kind of styling gel is swept up from his forehead, a strand or two falling stubbornly and giving him an almost charming appearance. Deep black robes sweep from his shoulders, covering up a suit that highlights his body in all the right ways.

Unlike Jimin and Taehyung, his outfit was completely black and you swallowed instinctively as you let your eyes run down his frame. Hoseok pauses at the doorway, pink lips moving as he talks to Nayeon, the divination professor. She looks pretty in a floaty dress of bubblegum pink and fizzing lilac, her smile genuine and eyes sparkling as she looks up at him.

Lips twisting, you turn away from the sight and don’t even notice the way Chaeyoung is watching you closely, her lips turning up in a smile she tries to hide. Looking away from you, she catches Seokjin’s questioning expression across the hall and nods at him subtly, enjoying the way the astronomy professor gets a determined look on his face.

“Speaking of men who are too beautiful to be real, Jung Hoseok always looks so good at these events. How is a man like that allowed to even exist?” There’s a breathy note to Chaeyoung’s voice, causing you to frown at her a little before looking back over in his direction. 

Nayeon is still standing there, a forlorn expression gracing her face as she watches Hoseok move away from her. It’s only then that you realise he’s walking towards you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. Confusingly, you’re a little unsure of what to do or how to act.

Not when he’s looking like that. This is not the shy and awkward Hoseok with his dress robes too big for him, the only memory you have of him at the Winter Solstice Ball. He couldn’t be any further from that teenager and you don’t know how to handle that.

Especially when he gives you that breathtaking smile, his cheeks rising and dimpling while his dark eyes shine in delight. You should’ve known the Jung genes would result in him growing into an attractive man; his sister was one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen.

“Y/N, Chaeyoung,” He bows his head to you both, that smile just as prominent and you nod back to him a little awkwardly. “You both look beautiful tonight. Winter is personified with your colours, it’s nice.” 

For a moment, you’re a little lost for words on how to respond to him. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been so casually complimented, especially from a man. A man as attractive as him. It causes you to swallow wrong and you cough loudly, pressing a hand to your throat.

“Thanks, you’re looking pretty fine yourself tonight,” Chaeyoung teases him, causing that smile to become a little more bashful. “Anyway, I’m going to leave you two alone for a moment, okay? I need to go talk to Seokjin about something.”

You watch her go with wide eyes, noting with suspicion that she’s moving a little faster than you’d expect and you wonder if she’s up to something. But then you realise that you’re being left alone with Hoseok, who’s casually looking you up and down while you’re attention is elsewhere.

It’s only when he catches your eye when you look back, a brow raised, that he realises you’ve caught him. Hoseok turns his head quickly, probably giving himself whiplash and you have to hide the snort at the soft blush on his cheeks.

He may be all grown up now, but he still reminded you of that shy boy who never quite knew how to talk to you.

Reaching out, you poke at his chest and grin at him.

“She’s right, you are looking good tonight. Cleaned up very well.” Hoseok gives you a droll stare and you laugh, feeling any awkwardness rushing away as you both fall into the easy-going nature of your friendship.

The rest of the evening goes by in much the same manner with the two of you separating on occasion to handle issues with students or just to do a walk around. Apart from that though, you both end up spending more time with each other than with anyone else. Conversation flows easily like a fast-moving river and you find yourself laughing more than you have in a while.

You only have to break up one fight between two young boys; the culmination of weeks of tension between the two finally bubbling over. It starts with raised voices before escalating to blows, resulting in you escorting the two to Madame Pomfrey to check for any injuries. After that, you leave them in the hands of Park Jimin to discipline them given their house.

When you get back, you look around for Hoseok or Chaeyoung. You can’t see either of them, causing you to take up a place at the back against the wall to observe for any fallout from the fight. Thankfully, the mood seems to have picked up and you wonder if that’s got anything to do with the more upbeat music that’s being played.

It was never nice watching your students get into fights with each other or lose friendships, but you knew that was part of growing up. The thing about teenagers, and kids, was that they were incredibly resilient. You did not doubt that they would both be back to being friends within a week or so.

“All sorted?” Comes a deep voice to the right, the sound closer than you expected and causing you to jump slightly. Turning to look, you note that Hoseok has turned up out of nowhere and you relax at the sight of his familiar face.

“Yeah, no injuries to each other apart from wounded pride and friendships.” That causes Hoseok to snort and roll his eyes, leaning back against the wall alongside you. Suddenly, you recall how many times Jisoo complained of having to comfort her brother when he’d had yet another fight during his tenure at Hogwarts.

“I’m sure you know all about that, Mr Jung. I remember Jisoo having to deal with you. You were shy but a firecracker.” He sighs deeply and you lean into him, giggling as you regale him with some of the tales she’d told you. Thankfully, he takes it all with his usual good nature and you end up segueing into other memories of your time at Hogwarts.

The exams and the studying, the professors back then and your favourite subjects. It’s something he already knows as you’ve both discussed it previously, but he indulges you and listens amiably while keeping an eye out.

You’re stopped though when he suddenly interrupts you, straightening slightly.

“Would you like to dance? There’s not as many people out there now and you haven’t danced once tonight.” His question is abrupt, causing you to falter in your conversation. Narrowing your eyes, you look him over closely and wonder if he’s being serious. And you conclude that he is.

Looking over at the dance floor, you contemplate for a moment and chew your lip before nodding. Now it’s your turn to feel shy, avoiding his gaze and trying not to catch the eye of anyone else in the hall as he leads you carefully to the floor. 

There’s probably a few statues in the British Museum that are less stiff than you as you turn to him, feeling his hand as he settles it on your lower back. You’re hyper-aware of that hand; how hot it feels against you even with the fabric of the dress between you. But that pales in comparison to the feel of his hand against your own, the way he holds it almost tenderly.

Logically, you know that he’s doing that because that’s how you’re supposed to dance like this. A light touch, but it makes you feel a little strange. You’re not sure why it makes you feel like that and you find yourself staring at his long fingers, wondering if he kept up the piano he’d been taught when younger.

The music leads you both in the dance, each beat dictating where you move and you’re vaguely aware of the students dancing around you. None of them are staring or looking confused as there had been many professors who had danced together tonight. But you couldn’t help but feel like this dance was a little different.

This was the closest you’d ever been to Hoseok and his body is so close to your own that you can physically feel the heat coming from him. Every breath you take brings the smell of him into your nose, the familiar mix of rich wood and lemongrass that is so, undeniably Hoseok. And underlying all that is the smell that’s unique to him.

“Is this okay?” He asks quietly and you stare at the black button-up covering his chest, avoiding his gaze given how close the two of you are. It’s probably not the best thing to do when you realise that shirt is straining a little and you can see the outline of his torso from the light of the nearby candles.

Swallowing hard, you look over his shoulder and try to ignore the sudden knowledge that Hoseok is buff beneath his clothes. Which doesn’t help, because you find your eye trailing down his chest as you consider. It’s only when you reach his belt buckle that you suddenly look away, taking a deep breath and wondering what was wrong with you.

You’d had one too many butterbeers tonight or something, which was a terrible excuse as it had such little alcohol content that it didn’t even matter. This was Jisoo’s brother, her little brother. Not someone you should be thinking about half-naked.

Right?

Finally, though, you register his question and nod quickly in response. You’re not sure that you can talk to him without saying something inappropriate as your brain isn’t working very well right now. Not when you’re so confused about...well everything.

“Are you sure? You’ve gone a little weird. Quiet.” Hoseok murmurs, his voice low to avoid any of the students overhearing it. Sighing, you stand a little straighter before looking at him directly and giving him a firm smile. It takes a little more effort than you’d like to push away those errant thoughts but you do so.

“Fine, just worried about those students. I hate seeing their friendship ruined and them angry at each other, you know?” It’s not a lie as you are still concerned about them, but he doesn’t need to know everything going on in your head. Which is why you’re thankful when he nods slowly before spinning you around.

“They’ll be okay. I’ve been doing this job long enough to know that they’ll be back to being friends sooner rather than later. They’ve already got some of that testosterone out by punching each other, which I’d rather they didn’t do but Jimin will talk it out with them. Don’t worry too much, they’ll be fine.” It’s sweet how considerate he’s being and you can hear how genuine he is in his voice. 

You don’t get to say anything else though as the tempo increases when the song switches over, causing Hoseok to twirl you away from him with a laugh. All around you the dances start to get a little more energetic and you can’t help but shriek with joy as he matches the student’s enthusiasm, listening to them as they cheer at two of their professors getting involved in the frivolities.

Neither of you notices the way Seokjin and Chaeyoung watch you both closely before smirking at each other.

-

Glancing around the room, you note how most of the students had already left and gone to bed for the night. The clock had struck midnight a while ago and you had to press a hand to your mouth as you yawned, turning your head away to be polite. A few remaining students were still dancing on the floor but even as you watched, some of them started to walk towards the exit.

Looking over at Chaeyoung, you caught her eye with a wave and smiled with relief when she nodded and made a shooing gesture. Turning to Hoseok, you tried to hide another yawn and almost giggled when you saw that he’d caught one from you, his mouth wide as he didn’t even try to hide it.

“I think we can go now. Chaeyoung gestured that we can leave so I think they’re going to hustle the last students to bed. Something which I’m also very excited to do because I feel like I’ve been awake for two days right now.” Blinking and almost trying to stretch your eyelids by widening them as far as you could, you almost missed the way Hoseok laughed at your antics.

“Tired? It’s not even two in the morning, I expected better of you.” He teases, gently pushing his elbow into your arm before avoiding your hand as you try to swat him. You’d admit that he looked a lot more awake than you did, which you’d say wasn’t fair but you don’t think you’ve ever truly seen him look tired.

“Well, you’re still young and spry. You’ll learn when you get to my age.” Moving off towards the doors of the Great Hall, you grab a tiny triangular sandwich from one of the remaining platters on a table as you pass by.

Light pressure on the small of your back causes you to arch slightly, your chest moving forward and you tilt your head to look at your companion. There’s no expression on Hoseok’s face, nothing to indicate he’s affected by touching you and you frown slightly as you wonder why it’s affecting you.

“You’re not old, I don’t know why you keep thinking that.” He murmurs, voice deep and quiet.

Neither of you says anything more for a few minutes, instead just walking quietly through the hallways. It’s a comfortable silence and you muse for a moment on how much you’ve come to enjoy spending time with him. You would happily say that he was your closest friend here at Hogwarts; something you would’ve never thought would happen when you were studying here and he was just your best friend’s little brother.

That makes you think of how defensive he always gets whenever you, or anyone else, seems to imply that you’re old. Huffing out a laugh, you bite your lip as you contemplate that for a second. Maybe he doesn’t like the implication that you, and by extension, his sister, are considered ‘older’ by the students. Or that he’s also approaching thirty.

The student’s opinions have never bothered you as they think anyone over the age of twenty is old. Nor have you been concerned overall, given the extended lifespan that witches had compared to muggles. You were finally feeling content with your career and your life, something you attested partly to growing older and becoming more at ease with yourself.

But he always got so defensive of it, so maybe he was concerned about himself.

“You don’t have to keep defending my age, you know,” Apparently you were going to query this with him and you blamed the butterbeer for loosening up your tongue. “I’m okay with it, honestly. Which means I’m okay with joking about it.”

Hoseok stiffened slightly and you spotted his expression looking a little uneasy. Frowning, you placed a hand on his arm and pulled him to a stop. Your quarters were only a few corridors away now and the two of you were given a warm glow from the candles lit nearby. 

“I’m not defending...I mean, okay maybe I am. I just...I don’t want you to feel like it’s an issue.” Now you’re giving him an amused look, lip quirked up on one side as you try to hold in a small giggle.

“It’s not an issue. Have I made it seem like it was?” Tilting your head, you watch as his eyes dart across your face in an almost shy manner.

“No...well, not in the way you might think,” He looks uncomfortable and you’re about to tell him it’s okay, that he doesn’t have to continue but he does so before you get the chance to speak. “I’m just made every aware of our age difference. You know, the whole ‘you’re her best friend’s little brother’ thing.”

“Hey, I don’t do that, do I?” Now you’re a little concerned.

“No, not really. Not for a while anyway. You did when you first got here but I understood that. We hadn’t met in a while and everyone was curious about how we knew each other. But now...I don’t even know what I’m talking about. Honestly, it’s not important. You’re right.” Hoseok’s babbling a bit but you decide to let him change the conversation. You’re not entirely sure why it truly bothers him, but you’re not going to press it anyway. He deserves to have his feelings and they don’t need to be analysed.

“Okay-” Before you can say anything else, you hear the quiet chiming of bells and frown in confusion. The sound echoes a little in the empty corridor, simultaneously creepy and also ethereal. 

Hoseok looks around as well, his brow knitted in confusion before he suddenly spots something about you both. Following him, you note the odd plant that’s grown from the ceiling out of nowhere. The green branches are still growing and you note with interest the small white berries that seem to be forming and familiar leaf shapes appear at the end of each branch.

A red ribbon is delicately wrapped around the stems and you see the little golden bells that let out tiny chimes as they rock from side to side in a non-existent breeze. Now you’re the one frowning as you look around you both, trying to spot who’d set a mistletoe charm to grow when someone walked beneath it.

“Mistletoe?” Hosek whispers, reaching up with one hand in an attempt to touch it. He can’t reach it and you sigh, shaking your head and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Someone has thought it’d be funny to put mistletoe charms around the castle for the ball. Certainly adds to the Christmas spirit. I’ve seen these popping up all night above couples on the dance floor. I think it’s a seasonal Weasley thing, seems like something they’d sell to annoy people.”

The mistletoe is suddenly snowing, letting tiny snowflakes drift to the ground around you both and leaving fluffy snow to settle on Hoseok’s hair and dress robes. How very romantic, you muse to yourself.

“Does it just disappear on its own after a while?” He asks, running his fingers through his hair to try and get rid of some of the snow. Smiling at him, you gently brush at his shoulders only to decide it’s a losing battle as more snow lands.

“Nope. You gotta kiss, that’s the whole point of mistletoe, right? Otherwise, it follows you around.” Hoseok sighs deeply and rolls his eyes.

“Of course it does. Definitely a Weasley thing.”

Looking back up at the mistletoe, and having to blink to avoid getting snowflakes in your eyes, you purse your lips before looking back at Hoseok. You’d long since come to terms with the fact that you find him attractive; anyone with eyes can see that. But you hadn’t planned on doing anything about it, not given who he was and who his sister was to you.

His words from earlier play through your mind though, and you wonder if he hates having to constantly know he’s given the best friend’s little brother status. Even now, months after you’d arrived and you considered him a friend, you knew that there were still people who thought of that as the most defining characteristic of your friendship.

Letting out a little sigh, you straighten your shoulders before reaching out and taking hold of his dress robes. Fuck it, you’re not one to waste a perfect chance.

Pulling him closer, you watch as his eyes dart to yours and widen when he realises that you’re moving towards him as well. And then those same eyes flick to your lips, the movement so fast that you’d almost miss it if it wasn’t for the fact that he did again only seconds later. 

Combined with the zero resistance he was giving, you came to the solid conclusion that he wasn’t going to reject you. Not when you were giving him plenty of time and reason to back out if he wanted to.

Tilting your head to him, you felt his warm breath as it caressed your face, the smell of butterbeer strong. And then your lips are pressed together, neither of you sure who made the final move and neither of you gives a damn at that exact moment. 

The pressure of your lips against each other is gentle at first, almost hesitant as both of you try to figure out where to go from here. All that was required was a kiss, which was what you were both doing right now. But you didn’t quite want to let him go just yet, not when you knew he probably had so much more to offer.

Shifting, you manoeuvred your way into a position that made the kiss a little more personal and no longer like two teenagers who’d never kissed in their life. Letting go of his robes, your arms move to wrap around his neck and you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying how soft the black strands feel against your fingers.

A quiet noise leaves Hoseok, his arms sliding around your waist to pull you a little closer to him while he kisses you more forcefully than before. It feels...you can’t even find the words to describe how it feels, only knowing that you’re not entirely sure you want him to stop.

Any hesitation has disappeared between you both and you simply lose yourself to the delightful feeling of Jung Hoseok against your lips, against your body and how he feels under your fingertips. It’s only when he moves a little further, his tongue asking for entrance to fire up the kiss even more, that you suddenly come to your senses.

Pushing back from him, you stare with wide eyes and only just realise that the bells have stopped. A glance up shows the mistletoe is gone and you breathe a little heavily, not realising that you’d kissed him that forcefully until now. Hoseok looks just as out of breath with an odd look in his eyes that you can’t quite figure out.

Licking at your lips, and trying to ignore the knowledge that you could probably taste him right now, you run your hands down the front of your dress robes before giving him a slightly awkward smile. Coughing, you turn your eyes away from the strangely intense gaze he’s giving you.

“Erm, well it’s gone now. So...we’re not gonna be followed by mistletoe anymore,” Playing with your fingers, you wonder if you made a very bad decision tonight. “I, erm, I’m gonna go to bed now. It’s late and...well...yeah. Thank you, for walking me here and spending time with me, you know, dancing and all that. It was nice, I had a good time and thank you. Yeah, I already thanked you. Err...get to bed safely, okay? I mean, I…” 

Hoseok reaches out and takes hold of your nervous hands. It makes you jump nervously, but he just gives a reassuring smile while rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs.

“Y/N...it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Go to sleep and have good dreams.” There’s no annoyance in his voice, no anger or outrage that you’ve gone from initiating that kiss to acting very strange in only seconds. 

“Yeah...I...you too. You too.” Frowning as you walked away from him, you wondered what in Merlin’s beard you’d just done.

[lordabovehelpme]

A Day Spent Alone- Din Djarin x Reader

(This amazing moodboard is done by the wonderful @jedi-jesi !!! Seriously, I love this girl. She’s amaze balls!)

A/n: So here is the next chapter to Days filled with Love. I hope you all enjoy it. Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment, I love hearing what you all have to say. It makes my day! :)

You can find the first part here!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Nervously, you rub over your beskar covered husband.

“We’re going to be fine.”

“Are you sure. Okay so don’t forget the twins diaper bag, it has all the bottles. I pumped every second I could, so you should have more than enough for them. Also, make sure-”

“Cyare,” Grabbing your wrists, he holds your hands still. “We are going to be fine. Stop stressing about it. We will only be gone for a day and a half at most.”

“Remind me why I can’t come.”

“Because you do too much and need some alone time.”

“But I like family time!” Pouting you lean into his body.

His hands release your own and move to rub your back. “I know you do, but everyone needs a day to themselves. Look at me.” Lifting your chin you peer into his visor. “We will be back tomorrow aftertoon and nothing is going to happen while we are gone. Okay?” Nodding you look down at your feet. “Come on mesh’la, I need to hear you say it. Okay?”

“Okay.” You can’t mask the sorrow in your voice, even when the introvert in you screams out in delight.

He raises his helmet from his head and presses one last kiss to your lips. It’s not a fast lustful kiss, but rather a timeless portrayal of his devotion to you. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Glaning up from his chest and over his shoulder, you watch your five kids wait for their father on the Crest. “Tell them I love them.”

“I will, but they already know it.” Giving you one last kiss, he rips himself from your hold and walks over to his ship.

All six of your family members wave their goodbyes and the ramp closes, making your heart long to run after them and demand them to never leave your sight again.

The crest rises slowly and shakily from the ground and you smile. Myles must be flying it.

Recently, Din decided that Myles is old enough to fly his own jet and that at the covert “three year olds were learning to fly so he is more than old enough.” You just raised an eyebrow and didn’t think much of it, yet here you are, watching your son fly the Crest.

Finally, the crest zooms off into the sky and your home becomes silent. What once was a yard filled with laughter and children has become a field of swaying grass. The only sound to comfort you is the soft laps of water that meet the shore.

Well, now what?

You have absolutely no idea what to do. Usually there is at least one kid in your arms while you are cooking some meal. You’re not complaining, you love being a mother, it’s just that… you’re always busy.

“Oh I know! I’ll catch up on that book I never finished!”

Rushing inside you plop yourself down on the couch under a nice fuzzy blanket, you open the book to the last page you read.

***

Finally closing the book after having finished it, you look up. Waves crash on the shore as the moon paints shimmers on the water.

A yawn takes over your senses and you're suddenly made aware of how long you've been sitting in the same position. Stretching your legs out, you lift the blanket from your form.

Walking into the kitchen you reach into the fridge and grab the patter of cut fruit your husband has left you. A note rests on the very front.

Cyar’ika- stop worrying and go take a bubble bath. You’ll find a new present on the toilet for when you finish. I love you.

Smiling to yourself, you carefully pin the note to the appliance with a magnet. It fits in perfectly with all the artwork and grocery lists that cover the once wihte fridge.

Taking the platter you walk into the bathroom that is connected to yours and Din’s room. Turning the hot water on, you look at the toilet. On it, rests fancy and expensive perfumes for the water and oils for your skin.

There’s a smaller container that when taken a closer look at, it reveals itself as the facemask you’ve been wanting to try. Another note in his quick chicken scratch handwriting waits for your attention.

Mesh’la- Yeah, I know crazy. I actually pay attention to your skin care. I picked these perfumes out because I know they will work wonders with your already sweet scent. In the closet, you’ll find my last gift. I would recommend going to grab it now. I love you.

Giggling, you practically skip over to your closet. Opening the doors a brand new fuzzy robe hangs in front. You practically moan at how soft it is. Hung underneath it is a new pair of pajamas, loose and silky, just how you like them. On the hanger rests another note.

Cyare- You probably have the biggest smile right now, and I wish I was there to kiss it off your face. But tonight is a night about you. Just you. No kids begging for your attention and no “whiny grumpy tin can” either. Enjoy your time alone. I love you so much. P.S. I want to see you in these pajamas when I get home.

Setting his note on your dresser you grab the clothes from their hanger and bring them into the bathroom with you. The scent of lavender and honey floods the tiled room as you pour the perfumes into the steaming water.

Shrugging off your clothes you step one foot into the water, perfect temperature. Your other foot follows and soon your chest is under the surface. Every muscle relaxes and you lean your head back, allowing a long overdue sigh to be released.

***

Birds chirp and sing as the sun rises. Your eyelids flutter open and your heart swells at the thought of your family coming home today.

Walking down the stairs, the house is bright and the various indoor plants you have seem more alive than ever. Looking out the large window of the living room, light dances over the lake’s surface.

You can still hardly believe that this land belongs to your family. No more flying around with the Crest being your only home. No more cramped sleeping quarters with no room to spread your limbs. No more crappy camping stove.

Now you’re a woman with two stoves! And a house that has more windows than you’ve ever seen before. And a place to call home for your family to thrive.

***

You’ve spent all morning laying on the beach and soaking the sun up. Where could they be?

It’s too quiet without them running around, it was nice at first, but now you miss their voices.

As if on cue, the Crest flys over the horizon and you gasp. Your heart jumps and a smile breaks out onto your face. Rushing out the door, you wait for your family to arrive.

Slowly, the ship lands and you can see Myles on Din’s lap in the cockpit. His little hands grasp the yoke and under his helmet you know his eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration.

As the feet touch the ground, the hatch clicks and starts to fall. “MOMMY!” Reeza yells out and she jumps down from the hatch. Her little feet carry her as fast as she can over to you.

Falling onto your knees and opening your arms, she slams into your embrace. Your arms wrap around her and cradle her further into your hold.

“Mommy I missed you!”

“I missed you too sweetheart.”

“GAH!” Looking up you watch as Grogu scurries down the opened hatch and runs over to you. As fast as he can, he makes his way over to you.

Opening one of your arms, you scoop him up and pull him into the hug you and Reeza are sharing.

“MOM! Did you see me? Dad let me fly!” Myles emerges from the ship and also runs into your open arms, helmet left on the ground.

“I did see you, you did great! I’m so proud of you!”

“I HAVE TO USE THE POTTY!” Reeza yells out before wiggling from your embrace and rushing into the house.

Laughing you just tuck Myles and Grogu further into your neck. “I missed you guys so much.”

“Did you have fun by yourself Mommy?”

“You know, I really didn’t. It was nice but having you guys in my arms beats anything else.”

Myles leans back, his eyes scan over your face, searching and analyzing your facial expressions. His eyebrows knit together and he just offers you a nod before leaning back into your arms. A gesture so uniquely your husbands there is no doubt in your mind that he is his child.

“I love you Mommy.”

“Love you too.” Pressing a kiss to Grogu’s head you smile, “Love you both so much.” His large eyes are closed as his little fingers grasp at your shirt.

After a minute they decide that they’ve hugged you too long and squirm from your embrace, rushing into the house. You can only smile wider and laugh as Grogu follows his brothers every step. If only Myles knew how much his siblings adored and looked up to him.

“Where's my hug and kiss?”

Gasping you look up. There, standing tall as ever, is your husband with a twin in each arm. Isabet is curled against his chest as she sleeps, you’ve never met a child who can sleep as much as she can.

In the other arm Tobbi coos and babbles while his arms reach out for you. However, when Din walks closer you realize his arms aim more towards your chest. His little golden eyes are trained on the low cut of your shirt. Giggling you notice how your husband has the same greedy look at your exposed flesh.

Taking your son from his arms his little fingernails scratch at your neckline and he babbles. “You’d think I never fed the little womp rat.”

“He just takes after his father.” You brush away Tobbi’s tuff of brown curls and press kiss after kiss to his face. He giggles and it makes your heart swell with love.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hmm, never full and always wanting a peak at my boob? Sounds pretty similar to me.” Wide eyed, your husband stops his hand midair as it was making way towards one of your mounds. Laughing, you lean up and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He growls and grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his lips. “Missed you too much,” he moves to nip at your jaw, “love you so much.”

It’s hard to stop your smile as his scruff tickles your skin and just from the absolute overwhelming feeling of being adored.

Isabet stirs and one of her eyes open. “Mmm… ma… mama!” Her arms fly in the air and she is suddenly wide awake.

Both you and Din freeze, your eyes meet and you share the unspoken question of, “Did she just?”

“MAMA!” Isabets small arms raise and her eyes tear up. Your husband lifts her so she is right in front of your face.

You attack her with kisses and your own eyes tear up. “Yes! Mama! That’s me!” Ticking her tiny tummy her frustrated tears turn into giggles.

“Good job, adi’ka, yes this is Mama. Can you say Dada?”

She turns her little head and gives him the meanest scowl you’ve ever seen. But when she turns back to you, her face lights up and a smile forms again. Your husband scoffs.

“Oh don’t be jealous, both Myles and Reeza said your name first.”

Taking both twins into your arms, you smile as Din wraps his arms around you. “I’m not jealous.” He says in his very obviously jealous voice.

“Mm hmm, okay. Whatever you say.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Part: Snow Day

Goodness, I love them all so much. If you haven’t been able to tell yet, Isabet may or may not be based off of Pero Tovar and I love it. She’s my favorite little grump of a child. 

I hope you guys liked it! 

As always, feedback is always appreciated. 

Love, Lordy :) 

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi @coldlilheart​ 

If you want to be added/ removed from my taglist- just give me a holler! :)

[lunarfly]

Ok so I decided to finally post the promised: defending Romione (🥺💗💕💖💞💘) against Dr*mione (ಠಿ_ಠ) shippers.

So I've read a few posts about Dr*mione shippers, talking about why their ship is amazing (which had nothing to do with canon btw) and bashing Ron (for no reason) and I'm literally shaking out of anger.

Here are my thoughts:

1. "Ron is too dumb for hermione"

Stop- Just-

Stop.

RON IS NOT DUMB.

Yes, he might not be very interested in school subjects, but 👏 that 👏 doesn't 👏 mean 👏 he 👏 is 👏 dumb 👏.

He is actually very smart! He beat McGonagall's chess game, he is logical and quick-thinking. There's MANY examples of this that I won't name right now, but it's a canonical fact. Ron. Is. Not. Dumb.

And consider he was dumb. So? Would that stop Romione from happening? NO! Hermione didn't mind Ron not being smart. She was just upset that Ron was lazy and wouldn't study anything until the last minute. She wanted to get both Harry and Ron to study according to a schedule.

Is it clear? Intelligence doesn't determine love.

**And this is something that confuses me. This doesn't have anything to do with the point, but why does nobody realize that Harry isn't much smarter than Ron? Yes, he was better at DADA but that requires TALENT, not intelligence. And I'm pretty sure we all know that Ron is talented as well (hopefully everyone realizes that). Nobody uses the fact that Harry wasn't intelligent against Harmione, but everyone uses the fact that Ron wasn't intelligent against Romione. The double standards tear apart the fandom.

2. "Ron bought hermione perfume and Draco could get her something better."

Soooo, you're saying that just because Ron didn't have the money that Draco had means that Hermione didn't deserve Ron?

Wow, this just says a lot about you dr*mione shippers. You only care about the money that Draco has, not his personality. You don't like Ron because he's poor (and I know how FanFics give the "kind Draco" Ron's canon personality so the only "problem" with Ron is his looks and lack of money). And you don't see Hermione nor Ron the way they are. This "point" of yours is literally stating that Hermione should be a gold-digger and get Draco because he can get her the expensive presents that she deserves. Yikes.

3. "Draco can understand the emotional side of Hermione while Ron can't."

Wait

What?

WHERE DO YOU GET THIS IDEA FROM-

Draco is only EVER concerned about his own self, he is a NARCISSIST. He would NEVER care for someone (let alone Hermione) as purely and truly as he cared about himself. He didn't even care about Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson etc. He was selfish. The only reason he could express his emotions was because he had to go through a lot since he realized that killing Dumbledore wasn't as easy as bullying Hermione. This would never ever work.

And even if Ron didn't understand her as much, he STILL comforted her. Take the beginning chapters of The Deathly Hallows as an example. You'll see.

4. "Ron is too immature."

I need help.

Of course Ron was immature when he was 11!! Yes, he acted immaturely many times, yes, he made many mistakes, but guess what? He changed! He changed for Hermione!! Draco didn't change at all, not for Hermione, nor for anyone else. He remained the same bratty bully.

If you could reread the books and read prisoner of azkaban vs deathly hallows, you will definitely see how much Ron has matured. He doesn't argue with Hermione anymore, he comforts her, he's there for her. Yes, he made a mistake but he was manipulated by the horcrux! We don't blame Ginny for what tom riddle's diary made her do, do we? So stop blaming Ron!

Anyways, I think if dr*mione shippers have read the books, they'll know what I'm talking about when I say Ron changed for Hermione. I honestly don't know how you could miss Ron's character arc.

5. "Ron would be jealous of the brilliant Hermione."

What?

If I remember correctly, the reason Draco bullied the trio was because he was jealous of them. His jealousy turned into a 7 year torture for the trio and now you're saying that Ron is the jealous one? Please.

But anyways, Ron has been jealous of Harry and has made a few mistakes. But there are reasons behind them and I can defend him for each of these with arguments other than "everyone makes mistakes" (cough cough* Draco stans* cough cough).

First of all, Ron has admitted being jealous of Harry's fame because he lives with 5 older brothers who outshine him. But that's not really a mistake because he never let it get in his way. There were only 2 situations in 7 years when he left Harry out of jealousy but I think these have different explainations.

No1 Ron left in goblet of fire. I think the real reason that Ron let his jealousy get in his way this time, was not only because Harry got to participate in the tournament which could bring him eternal glory, but more likely because he was disappointed that his own best friend didn't even tell him that he was entering and didn't even help him participate (which wasn't true, but Ron thought so back then).

No2 Ron left in deathly hallows. This one was 100% because of the horcrux and I think we should all accept this by now and stop hating on Ron for being affected by dark magic.

And just like that, Ron never let his jealousy get in his way of friendships. I can't think of a situation where Ron is jealous of the brilliant Hermione so if you remember, please let me know so I can argue against it. <3

6. "Ron and Hermione would break up and remain friends, it's easy to imagine because they didn't have a strong relationship."

This was actually said, someone actually said this-

I'm just going to say that Ron and Hermione are happily married to this day (which definitely proves that their relationship is strong) and give the dr*mione community a moment of silence.

7. "Ron didn't do anything for Hermione and was just a jerk."

Coming from a person who has read and reread the books multiple times, I can assure you that Ron did many things for Hermione.

Of course, he was immature at first, he was mean to her, but slowly he started seeing more of the good in Hermione and started changing for her.

And even when he was immature, he still cared about Hermione and would protect her no matter what.

Let's remember how many times rubbish Ron stood up for Hermione against the brilliant bully Draco. 🥰

Let's remember how cowardly Ronald faced his fears of spiders to help Hermione (and the rest of the school, just how jerkier can he get?). 🥰

Let's remember how ridiculous Ronniekins stood up for Hermione against sensational Snape and got himself into detention (oh yes, this is the book version of the movie moment where Ron agrees with Snape about Hermione being an 'insufferable know-it-all'). 🥰

Let's remember how rotten Ronny comforted Hermione when she was worried about Hagrid and Buckbeak (and he even let her hug him and cry on his shoulder, how rude). 🥰

Let's remember how revolting Ronald sacrificed himself to save Harry and Hermione in the chess game. 🥰

Let's remember how horrendous Ron attempted to hex Draco when he used a slur that was meant to offend Hermione. 🥰

Keep in mind that all of these were done when Ron was still immature and still argued a lot with Hermione.

And these aren't even all.

8. "Ron and Hermione have a loveless marriage."

What the-

I'm sorry, I'm trying to be respectful here but this is crap. And the fact that the person said they also had "proof" from the c*rsed ch*ld but didn't want to spoil it-

As much as I hate the c*rsed ch*ld, I can tell you that it did its job portraying Ron and Hermione's unconditional love. Even in alternative realities, where they didn't get married, they were still in love.

And why would you even think that Ron and Hermione would marry and have kids if they didn't love each other? I need explainations.

Next.

9. "Ron never listens to Hermione."

I'm sorry, what? I'm genuinely confused??

What do you even mean by this? Yeah, they used to argue a lot, and? Ron thinks Hermione is brilliant and wonderful and he follows her advice. I can't recall a moment where Ron won't listen to Hermione, doesn't agree with her and ruins her plans. Anyone else?

Since this one is a big mess and a confusion, I'll move on to the next one until someone explains the points and arguments.

10. "Draco could make Hermione laugh while Ron couldn't."

....

Do I really need to say anything for this one?

Ron was the funniest one from the trio, that's why Harry enjoyed his company so much! Don't you remember the line in goblet of fire where Harry thinks about how much he misses having Ron as his best friend, because without him there's less fun and less laughs? I do.

But what I don't remember is finding Draco's sense of humor funny. I'm sorry but his intellectual level is almost as low as Crabbe and Goyle's. His insults are none other than Potty and Weaselbee, he only got 3 O.W.L.s and all of his jokes were stupid and dumb and their only purpose was insulting people he was jealous of.

These fanfics have rotten people's brains...😬

Anyways, I'm going to stop here. I've delayed this post for very long and I'm so excited to finally post it!

I read a book on wattpad by a dr*mione shipper and it was nothing but a giant headache. That's where I got all of these statements from. Most of the garbage in the book revolved around Draco and Hermione being inseparable and getting over all obstacles (wth) and other stupid stuff like that which really annoyed me. The book was called "why we love dr*mione" and it was by Bittenwizard. You can read and enjoy! Trust me, you'll have lots of content to post about after that 🤠👍

*I always try to be respectful to all ships, but sometimes some of them really anger me because the ships are either toxic or the arguments are plain trash. I'm sorry if I offend anyone.

Thank you for reading this. If you're a dr*mione shipper, I hope I've convinced you to give up the ship or come up with better arguments for it.

If you're an anti-dramione I hope you enjoyed the post. I'll delight you with more anti-toxic-ships content. :)

Thank you once again! <3

[starlightrows]

In The Eye Of The Beholder

Chapter 3

← Previous - Next →

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Oral (m and f receiving), mild anti-clone sentiments,

Summary: Commander Wolffe returns to Coruscant for a check in appointment for the study, and scores another date with you!

As time passes the irritated skin around the scar crossing Wolffe’s face begins to fade. He’s back on deployment now, somewhere in the galaxy leading his troops and carrying out orders. But he is still part of the study on the effectiveness of his prothesetic, he obviously can’t come in for case study updates in person, so instead he has scheduled holo calls with you.

The holocalls should really only take about fifteen minutes, thirty if he’s experiencing issues that require scheduling an in person appointment for adjustment or troubleshooting. But each call lands up being closer to an hour, or two depending on how much time he could truly get away with not being on duty.

You talk about your job, he talks about the war effort. You tell him funny stories from your time studying in medical school. He tells you about the stupid things he’s witnessed various memebrs of his squad (and other battalions) do. You describe what it was like growing up on your homeworld. He describes growing up with three million siblings on a planet that never had a day without rain. Food, music, sleeping habits, things you love, things you hate. The two of you never struggle to find something to talk about.

When he isn’t talking to you on holocalls, you’re always on his mind. Every little thing he sees and does, he finds himself thinking of what kind of comment you would make on the situation. Would you laugh at his brother's antics, or scold them alongside him? What advice would you provide when he is faced with a tough decision? He finds himself looking up into the night sky when stationed on far away planets and wondering just how much distance is between the two of you at this moment, and how long would it be before he could close that distance?

His answer comes sooner than he expected it would. General Plo informs him that the battalion will be returning to Coruscant for the purpose of several squads being transferred or reassigned to the battalion as well as the General needed to attend a series of council meetings in person. General Plo also mentioned that it would be best if he contacted you to schedule a check in for his prosthetic.

Briefly Wolffe wondered if the General knew of his evening he spent off the base with you, but ultimately decided two things. He probably did not, the General is a busy man with many responsibilities, too many to notice the comings and goings of every trooper (or commander) that serves under him. And, even if he did, he didn’t care.

Wolffe uses the excuse to schedule a case study appointment to take over an hour to himself in his quarters talking to you on the coms. He tells you he is returning to Coruscant, and he’ll be stationed there for at least four days. Internally he debates asking you outright to go out with him again. He doesn’t normally get much enjoyment from going out to the bars, but he had so much fun dancing with you last time. To his delight you beat him to the punch.

“So, if you’re gonna be planetside for a little while would you consider coming with me to see some live music and have a couple drinks?” You ask with a hint of heat creeping up into your cheeks. You’ve been looking forward to taking a night off to enjoy this free outdoor concert, but if Wolffe could come with you it would be all the more special.

The grouchy commander with a charming smile and quick wit has grown on you. After he tried to leave before, you were afraid that you’d made a mistake inviting him back to your apartment for sex. But he’s proven you wrong in the last couple months. He’s eager and engaged in your biweekly holocalls. And moreso, he seems eager to see you again.

“I could go for some music and drinks. You gonna dance with me again?” he teases

“Get enough drinks in me and you just might get your wish, commander”

In a few days time, you hear from him that he’s arrived on Coruscant and he’s looking forward to seeing you. Unfortunately you can’t get away from work the first day he’s planetside, with your date scheduled for the second day of his shore leave. You’re distracted throughout that day, thinking about seeing him again. You briefly considered comming him at the end of your shift to invite him back to your apartment. But you decide against it, he’s probably enjoying some downtime with his brothers or by himself, and he’s already agreed to spend time with you tomorrow.

Your assumption is partially correct. He is spending some downtime with his brothers in the barracks in the Coruscant base, they’re passing around a bottle of spotchka playing drinking games. Wolffe is having a good time, but he would honestly rather be with you.

The next morning he turns up at your office in his officers uniform for his case study appointment. You welcome him inside in a professional manner, but the second the door is closed you take his hand and lean up to kiss his cheek.

“Welcome back Commander,”

The appointment is relatively quick, just a series of eye movement tests and a questionnaire on symptoms and side effects he’s experienced since having the prosthetic placed. Though it does take all of your concentration to focus on actually collecting the data and not getting sidetracked by flirty conversation. There will be time enough for that later.

When the appointment is finished, you excuse yourself to go to the fresher and change into something more appropriate for spending the day out. You returned looking lovely in a comfortable but stylish outfit. You lock up your office and the two of you set out for the day. The concert isn’t until later in the afternoon, leaving plenty of time to stroll through the various levels of the city.

As you go along, you begin to notice more and more eyes on the pair of you. Many civilians are of the opinion that the clones should not be permitted to spend their off hours among the population of civilized planets. People are afraid of them, bred for war… the words scary, hostile, and unstable often get thrown around. You make a point to keep in step with Wolffe and enjoy every moment of your time with him. People can stare all they want, you’ve been looking forward to this.

The pair of you arrive at the outdoor venue and find a high table that gives you a good view of that stage without being too close. You order drinks and finger food to snack on while you wait for the concert to start. The sun is quickly setting, the lights meant to illuminate the stage and patio come on.

Wolffe looks dashing in his officers uniform, but you can’t decide if it is more or less comfortable than the armor. You’ll have to ask him later, because now the musicians are starting to play. The music is fun and lively, loud enough to drown out the two of you talking and laughing, but not loud enough you can’t hear each other like at the club last time.

Wolffe didn’t initially think going to see live music in a small venue like this would be enjoyable, he’s not really a music person as it is. But he has a great time, music is so much better hearing it in person, and all the more fun when you have a pretty date who likes to dance after a couple drinks.

It’s not raunchy sexually motivated dancing like before, though that was fun too, your dancing tonight is playful and fun. Your smile shines bright under the twinkling patio lights as he spins and dips you. When the concert ends there is applause from the audience thanking the musicians for their fantastic performance. Wolffe is almost disappointed the show is over, if he had it his way he would get to twirl you around and make you laugh all night long.

Well… that might still be an option in another sense.

Your apartment isn’t too far away, so you walk with your hand in the crook of his arm back to your place. When you get inside you offer him a glass of wine, and sit together in your living room.

“Thanks for coming out with me tonight,” you say warmly

“How could I say no? I love to see you dance,” he replies with a hint of a smirk. You lean in a little and hold his gaze with lips ever so slightly parted, an invitation if he’s willing to accept it.

He does, closing the gap between you to smooth his lips over yours in a kiss. You taste the wine on his lips, dark and sweet. You let your jaw slack a little as his tongue gently pushes past your lips to explore your mouth. Warmth pools low in your tummy, the hand he has placed at your waist is distracting since his thumb slowly stroking over the bottom curve of your breast. But you stay focused, you’ve got something in mind for tonight.

Breaking away from the kiss you make your move, pushing him away from you and back into the couch. “I want to do something for you,” you say in a low sultry tone, hoping he’d trust you enough to lead. He quirks a brow, curious as to your intentions.

You slide off the couch and settle yourself at his feet, pushing his knees open. He eyes you with an air of caution “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says. But damn does he want it, just the sight of you slipping down between his legs already has him half hard.

You run your hands up the outsides of his thighs, and curl your fingers around the top of his trousers. “I want to do this”

He nods and settles back with a smirk “You were planning this weren’t you?” He growls as you work his pants off. You give him an innocent look and bat your eyelashes teasingly. You free his cock from his grays, curving up towards his stomach, hard in anticipation.

You reach out and take him in your hand, licking a stripe up the underside of his shaft and closing your lips over the head. He lets out a groan as you take him deeper into your mouth, sucking as you go.

“Such a good girl taking my cock” he groans.

You begin bobbing your head clinging to his thighs for support. You could feel yourself getting wet with arousal too, his groans and praise getting to you. You use your hand to pump the base of his cock you can’t get to with your mouth, and the other to start massaging his balls. His grunts and moans began getting louder and more desperate.

“I’m close” he moaned “Go on baby, finish me off”

You took him down into your throat, as deep as you could before starting to gag and sucked at him, coaxing him over the edge. You could feel him tightening up, his feral grunts and moans becoming erratic and unrestrained. You pull off of him about half way and open your mouth wide, stroking his cock in quick firm movements. His head drops back onto the couch, grunting and panting as he cums into your waiting mouth.

His head snaps back forward, eyes taking in the sight of you with his cum painted over your lips and in your pretty mouth. He leans forward, reaching out to pinch your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. You poke your tongue out just a bit, and let him admire the sight of his release.

“Swallow it” he growls

You respond by licking your lower lip and drawing your tongue back into your mouth swallowing whatever you hadn’t already. He surges forward and crashes his lips down on yours. He pulls you up from your spot on the ground, and into his lap. His hands are everywhere, roaming down your back, over the curve of your ass, around to your tummy and up to cup your breasts through your pretty little shirt. He finally breaks the kiss, panting from exertion but still riled up.

“Let me return the favor,” he growls, flipping you over, taking you down to lay back on the couch. He takes his time, peeling off your pants, stripping your top off, and undoing the clasps of your bra. He leans over and kisses you again with a kind of intensity you’ve never experienced before. It’s not exactly rough, it’s hungry and desperate. His hands massage your breasts, deftly rolling your nipples between his fingers. You moan into the kiss.

“You like that baby?” He trails his lips down your neck, and kisses them hollow at the base. You wiggle your hips, the wetness pooling in your nether regions becoming a little uncomfortable. He chuckles darkly, and resumes kissing his way down your body. He stops just at your panty line, looking up at you with a bit of mischief in his eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, he carefully bites the waistband of your panties and begins to drag them down. Your breath hitches at the sight, and you lift your hips up just a bit to help him get them off. When he gets them down to about your knees, he releases them from between his teeth and uses one hand to tear them away.

Then he’s leaning back down, and leaving a trail of wet kisses and little bites from the inside of your knee up your leg, getting closer and closer to where you need him most. His hands slide up the backs of your thighs and lifts you about an inch or two off the couch to his waiting mouth.

His tongue slides between your folds and he begins to lap at your wetness. He teases your aching hole with the most tantalizing strokes of his tongue, switches it up by nosing his way up to your clit and suckling at it, squeezing your ass and moaning into you.

You’re moaning, panting, flushed with heat and getting closer and closer to a release.

“Wolffe,” you moan “please… please… please… make me cum”

He glances up and sees your eyes have fluttered shut, your head tipped back and chest heaving with strained breath. He speeds his movements, suckles at your clit with alternating flicks of his tongue and groans at the sounds of your pleasure.

Your hands twist around the edge of the sofa cushions, needing something to cling onto as your climax overtakes you. Your moans and whimpers stall out, and your voice cuts off as you cum. Your legs tremble in his hold, signaling him to slow down his movements and pull away from your glistening cunt as you come down from your high.

He crawls back over you, catching your lips in another kiss. You taste yourself on him, and come back to reality.

“Stars….” you whisper, breaking the kiss “You didn’t tell me you had a secret talent, Commander”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a secret would it?” He kisses you again, the desperation has subsided but the hunger is still there.

“You gonna try to take off on me or are you sticking around for breakfast tomorrow?” You tease him. You get the feeling he knew he was welcome to stay again, but still make the joke just in case.

“If the offer is on the table?” He quirks an eyebrow at your comment, and gives you a smirk.

On the table you think to yourself maybe next time….

Tag List: @ems-alexandra @thefact0rygirl @ajeff855

[wesimpforxiao]

Inception: Chapter 5

"Pft! I-Ahahaha!"  You were doubled over the table trying to stop yourself from choking on your food while Ajax crinkled his nose in disdain.  The two of you were at Xinyue Kiosk for a late-night dinner that he had insisted was his treat.  You've only ate at fancy food places like this every once in awhile; these meals were so freaking expensive! Your initial hesitance to join Ajax on the basis of money was soon overshadowed by the entertaining sight sitting across the table.

"Tch...tsk..." With every effort, he grew more impatient and frustrated.  It didn't help that you were watching and laughing at his incompetent efforts to use chopsticks!  "Ugh! Forget it!"  He gave up and stabbed one of his sushi rolls rather violently before shoving it into his mouth with a pout.  Ajax turned away from you as his face grew redder and redder, but he couldn't help glancing back to see the smile on your face and the tears of joy rolling down your cheeks.  Well, as long as this brought you joy...at his own expense...He let out a huff before reaching for his drink.  At least whatever bitterness you held towards him last week seemed to disappear.

"I-I can't believe you...! I can't take it!" At long last your laughing fit died down enough so you could breathe, and you reached up to wipe your tears away.  "Pft...! I'm sorry, but this is too funny!"

"Yeah yeah," Ajax sighed yet again, his confidence deflating like a balloon and his posture slouching.  What a way to impress a girl.  He should've went for the fork first!

Noticing his sudden change of attitude, you slipped out of your seat and joined his side, leaning over him.  "Here," you swiped the chopsticks off of his plate and placed them in his hand once again, this time so they were in the correct positions.  "Now you've got the right hold on them."  Your fingers were still draped over his while you guided the sticks to another piece of sushi.  

Contrary to your concentration on helping, Ajax was a bit more flustered than usual and it wasn't because of the chopsticks. ��For some reason his heart fluttered at the sudden lack of distance between the two of you, just like that night under the light of the Mingxiao lantern.  'You think I'm in love with childhood friend?  My my my, Mr. Zhongli, perhaps you've finally lost your marbles after spending so much time with mortals,' he recollected.  No...there's no way Zhongli's right about this.  This is all a fluke!  But your hand was so warm, no doubt because of your pyro vision...how long had it been since he felt such gentleness from another person?  The closest he's ever come to human contact was by beating his foes senseless!  And when was the last time he had a genuine hug?  It's been years, he realized, since before the inception of my Fatui status.

"There, see?  You'll get the hang of it."  He snapped back to the present when your hand quickly left his.  Whatever light had begun to gleam in his eyes faded just like the heat from your touch, and he watched you sit back down at your end of the table.  "You're not completely hopeless at chopsticks," you smirked.

"You're right, ojou-chan.  One day I'll surpass you when it comes to these cursed utensils!"  He hid his feelings by attempting to put your lesson to use, but failed drastically again and again.  It was obvious he didn't pay attention to a single thing you had told him to do! The boyish desire to one-up his best friend made you giggle again.

Somewhere behind the decorated divider that made up your private dining space sat the eyes and ears of the wolf.  Following Master Childe around proved to be fruitful just as expected; while the harbinger often held private meetings and dinners to get closer to clients, this one felt different based on all the others that Charlie had followed him to.  There was a distinct familiarity--one that Childe was definitely not faking for the sake of deceit and was shared with the mysterious girl sitting at the other end of the table.

I see, thought Charlie while his ears strained to pick up the other noncoherent whispers on the other side of the screen.  He'd been following Childe around all week and had quickly picked up on the harbinger's avoidance of his own men so that he could spend time with you.  Clearly, this woman must hold a special place in Childe's heart--an old flame, maybe?  Regardless of the specifics of your relationship with him, it would make the most sense for you to be the vigilante Childe has neglected to capture; the merciless blood-thirsty harbinger would've gone in for the kill if it were any other person, but since it's you...you'd be protected. Sheltered.  Allowed to get away with tormenting the Fatui since you're so close to Childe.  You're untouchable.

Of course, this was all just a theory.  To properly identify you as the vigilante Master seeks, he'd have to follow you around instead.

A chill ran down Childe's back out of nowhere; something's wrong.  While he continued to struggle with the remainder of the sushi, his gaze darted to every which-way to identify anything out of the ordinary.  He was sure the two of you weren't followed, and he had made every effort possible to avoid his subordinates on the way here, even setting up a private room that isn't too common in the Kiosk.  Still, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. You noticed the sudden tension in the air around him, and stared until he noticed.

"What's wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing," his voice lower than a minute ago, "Please excuse me, ojou-chan.  I need to use the restroom."  He slipped out between two of the dividers and froze once he was out of your sight.  The remainder of the room was deserted. How odd...the tension in his shoulders slowly faded as he was put at ease.  

"Excuse me," a petite voice drug him out of his thoughts and he was greeted by the waitress.  She held a silver platter with a pair of matching deserts on it.  "Oh, have you changed your mind on desert after all?"

"No, not at all.  Please, allow me."  He took the tray from her and watched her exit the room.  With one final skeptical glance around the room, he returned to the inside of the dividers.

"Oh, and before I forget," Childe began to dig into a delicious chocolate desert you didn't remember the name of but seemed to be some sort of cake.  "I have a business trip coming up at the end of this week in Mondstat."

"Oh really?  That sounds fun.  How long will you be gone?"

"For a few days at the least.  Actually, I was wondering if you'd join me."

Your forkful of chocolate-something froze in midair.  "...Join...you...?  But I don't have anything to do with your company...I'd be a distraction, don't you think? Plus there's my business with the funeral parlor and I don't think I can request days off on such short--"

"I've already spoken to Zhongli about it.  He and Hu Tao cleared you as of last night.  So, what do you say?  Wouldn't this also give you the chance to visit some of your friends there anyway?"

"Well...yes..." you mumbled with a slight blush.

"What do you have to lose?  Think of it as a much-needed vacation.  You work too hard from what I've heard from Zhongli!  Besides, we can use this opportunity to learn more about each other, don't you think?"  Seeing your hesitation, he let out a defeated chuckle and shrugged.  "Of course, that's if you want to come with me.  If not, I understand."

"I..."  Well if my superiors approved, then I guess there's nothing wrong with taking a trip, right?  "Okay, I'll come with you."

................................................

The quiet peacefulness of Liyuan wilderness was disrupted by an exhausted groan and the dragging of feet.  "Ugh, since when was it ever this hot in Liyue?"  Your clothes were soaked in sweat from the summer-like heat despite your vision granting you resistance, but Childe appeared mostly unbothered--mostly.  He didn't show it, but when you'd look elsewhere he'd often pull at his collar and reminisce of the harsh winters of the Motherland.  "Thank the archons that the sun is finally setting."

"We've already passed Wangshu Inn, but it's not too late to turn back and spend the night there.  Are you sure you want to sleep in the woods, Reed?  You'd be passing up the chance to cuddle me, you know."  He reveled in your half-disgusted, half-flustered reaction while you struggled to fully comprehend his words.

"Q-Quit it!  Like I've said before, this wouldn't be my first trip to Mond.  I have no problem lying on the ground!  Or are you saying you can't handle it?"  Flipping the subject onto him did no good at hiding your flushing skin; the arrogant smirk on his face proved it.  "...Why don't we stay here?  There's the creek nearby, and a clearing up ahead."

Childe eyed the surrounding area and set his pack down.  "If the lady insists."  The pleasant aroma of packed food filled the two of you with delight.  "Shall I begin cooking dinner?"

"I wouldn't mind," you practically drooled.  Ajax's cooking was amazing! After that initial dinner when both of you reunited, he would sometimes surprise you with homecooked meals to take home and man were you excited for the next time he offered.  A toy seller and a cook...his younger siblings must live a luxury!  "I'll get some water!"

The creek wasn't too far away--perhaps some fifty feet or so.  The crystalline waters murmured quietly over the pebbles and stones, some spaces louder, others quieter where the fish gathered.  If it wasn't getting darker by the minute and the threat of hilichurls wasn't so prominent, you could've stayed here much longer.  Not that hilichurls posed that much of a threat to someone acquainted with your fighting skills, but you've only come across them once or twice, and the giant ones could easily bulldoze through you if given the chance.

Once the pot of water was full you rose to walk back to your little makeshift camp.  Ajax had insisted on bringing fresh produce since the trip to Mondstat wasn't a particularly long one and the trip was rather straightforward.  Maybe he was going to make stew?  Whatever he chose, you just hoped none of the food spoiled from the sun beating down on the packs all day.

By the time you got back, Ajax had already managed to start a fire and was humming some unknown tune while preparing the produce.  You couldn't help but raise a brow and tighten your hold on the pot.  "Um...really?"

"Hm?"  His eyes slid to you, then back to the fire.  "Oh! Sorry, I wasn't thinking.  Don't worry, Reed.  It won't bite you."

"I'm not coming close enough to feel the heat on my skin.  Here," you thrust the pot towards him and he made sure to grab it before the water spilled over.  Your light footsteps got quieter the further you strayed from Ajax and the fire, taking shelter beneath one of the far trees where your packs lay.  

"Relax, ojou-chan.  I won't let it hurt you."  A small chuckle escaped him before he resumed his humming session without a second thought or noticing your silence.  

You really don't remember...You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.  What did they do to you, Ajax?

Your silence carried on until the crickets duetted with the occasional hoots of a nearby owl and the crackling of the fire weighed heavily on your mind.  "I'm sorry, ojou-chan."  

"Mm?"  He had stopped rambling about some disagreement he and a coworker had about communication and was now looking directly at you.  

"I'll put out the fire," he moved.

"No, you need to stay warm."

"I wouldn't say that."  He drug out a blanket from his pack and laid it in the space between where he sat by the fire and you, who sat at the tree behind him.  "Here.  You'll lay on that side, I'll lay next to the fire."

Your eyes narrowed at the flickering flames behind him.  "Is that even safe?"

"Well if the fire ever gets out of control, you or I can put it out," he reasoned and pat the spot next to him until you reluctantly obliged.  He didn't lay down until you were settled in with your back facing him.  Silence befell the campsite until he took a deep breath.  "What's on your mind, Reed?"

It took a few minutes for the answer to come out.  "Do you not remember our last encounter  before my mother and I left Snezhnaya?"

"Now that you mention it, not really."  He remembered a vague goodbye, but nothing else about it.  It was sometime right after he returned from the abyss if he got his timeline correct.  Feeling a tad nervous for whatever reason now, he let out a small laugh.  "Could you possibly enlighten--" You rolled around so you faced him and met his gaze with tears. That's when his memory came rushing back.

"Ajax!  Ajax!"  You ran at him full speed with hot tears spilling down your cheeks until you collided with him in a tight embrace.  "I--I thought they got you too!" He seemed to freeze under your touch, so you pulled away to look him over.  He appeared tired and wild for lack of a better term, with eyes as wide as saucers like a snow leopard meeting a human for the first time.  He was different, but you couldn't put your finger on how.

"'Too?'"

"The Fatui," you sobbed.  "A day after you went missing, my house...my daddy..."

His words came out as harsh as the cold with not a hint of his kind demeanor shining through. "Spit it out."

"You know how my daddy fights against the Fatui in my town? They burned my house down and...and daddy..." Was your face red from crying all day or from the cold?  "...he burned with it."  Ajax didn't seem injured, so some of the stress weighing your shoulders down dissipated a bit now that you knew your dear friend wasn't hurt.

But instead of Ajax explaining where he was or consoling you for the loss of your father, a horrid giggle pierced through the snowscape.  It was inhuman, what with its pitch sending an icy chill down your spine and instantly replacing your expression of sorrow to one of confusion and horror.  "Ha...Hahahaha! Hahahahah!"

"Why are you laughing? This isn't funny!"

"Ahahaha!  Silly Reed," he chided and pat your head like one consoles a younger sibling, "in this world, only the strong survive.  Your father wasn't strong enough." The girl before him trembled at his words.  "He was too weak if he died like that."

"Th--This isn't funny, Ajax! Cut it--OW!"  You were shoved into the snow with an unfamiliar strength.  Ajax never raised a hand at you, even when you two played together.  What was he--

A dangerous glint danced in his eyes like the fire that consumed your house two days ago. "No, you cut it out!  You're gonna get yourself killed if you keep acting weak.  The world has no mercy on people like us.  It's kill or be killed.  Do you understand that, Reed?"

"Why are you...What is the matter with you?!  Don't you care? What did the Fatui do to you?!  Who even are you?"  Hot tears rolled down your cheeks until the cold froze them in their tracks.  Yet the boy that stared down at you was uncaring, cruel, and held no life in his eyes.

"It wasn't the Fatui," he muttered to himself.  "Hurry up and get on with it already.  What was really so important that you needed to tell me your dad died?"

"My mama and I...we're leaving tomorrow.  I came to make sure you were okay and to say goodbye.  We won't see each other again, Ajax," you finally rose to your feet and clenched your fists.  "But you don't care, do you?"

"No.  I don't.  Leave me alone already."

"I..." Ajax blinked several times as he processed his long-forgotten memory.  "I'm so sorry, Reed."

"If you're so sorry, then tell me what happened.  What did the Fatui do to you?" Even in the dark, you could see a hint of sadness in the depths of his eyes.  "If they hurt you too I swear...I swear I'll make every single one of them pay."  Heat radiated from your body at the thought.  "I promise." Yet even as you said this, there was another, darker, more bittersweet emotion in his expression.

"I...fell into the Abyss."  Those were the only words he muttered before rolling onto his other side, facing away from you.  And though you didn't really understand what he meant, his empty tone struck a cord within you.  Warm arms gently wrapped around his torso with a heat softer than the campfire that lulled him to sleep.

[cucumbers-and-olives]

Enemies To Lovers- Part Two (Charlie Gillespie x reader)

i forgot to post this last night, oops! here it is now...

<<<part one—part three>>>

Summary: Its New Years, and you fare asked to stay in town for the annual New Years party. But what happens before and during the party? Well that’s a story!

Category: it’s a league of its own

Fandom: JATP

Paring: Charlie Gillespie x reader

Word Count: 1,960 (woah)

⚠️PLEASE READ⚠️ Warnings/Includes: if mentions of drinking, drugs, (getting) roofied/drugged, strong language and typos

Please make sure you are comfortable before reading this chapter.

A/N: so it’s a few days late, i hope you guys enjoy this NYE fic a few days after

Mandatory Thanking of the Betas: THANK YOU LOVES!!! you two literally hold me up and help me make my ideas into their finished product, so thank you!

AO3 link here (will be up by 1/7 10pm est, i’m have wifi issues at the moment)

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 under the same username. Thank you!

“Y/N!” A woman said entering your room. It had been a week since you had arrived in the Gillespie home. In that short amount of time you had met all of Charlie’s younger cousins (there were only three, but they were a handful), celebrated Christmas the Gillespie way, and gotten into a total of five fights with Charlie over a range of things, but each one had a bigger fall out than the last. You supposed that was why at every meal your spot was next to his, an obvious way that Ms.Gillespie tried to “bring the two of you closer together.”

“Hun, you okay?” Ms.Gillespie said, her hand resting on yours. “You’ve been staring at that shirt for a while.”

“I’m alright, thank you,” You said, placing your shirt into the suitcase that lay on the floor. You were packing to leave, but you could tell that the older woman’s appearance in your room meant that you wouldn’t be leaving on your flight. You held your breath as she spoke.

“I’d like to invite you to stay through New Years. You’ve been such a help with the younger kids, and it’s been delightful to have you here.” She must have been telepathic at that point because she rushed out her next point. “And Charlie has agreed to play nice.”

“Ms.Gillespie, you are so kind, but I don’t think I have enough money-” You said, not wanting to overstay your welcome any longer.

“Nonsense, nonsense!” She cut you off. “I knew you would say this, it’s the kind of person you are, and so Charlie has found you a flight and we are paying for it.” You could tell that there was something that she was leaving out, but you could get hit with that later. Ignoring your work and your family was something that you were good at. And besides, hanging out at the Gillespie house was fun.

“Alright!” You agreed. She sweeped you up in a hug.

“Wonderful! Have you had lunch yet?” You shook your head. “Well that is perfect, I’ve got some sandwiches, so I expect to see you down in a few, okay?”

You nodded, and with that, she left, a smile on her face. You were excited to stay longer, but would Charlie’s promise hold? Would he really be nice for the remainder of your stay?

“Let’s hope so,” You said, closing your door and making your way to the kitchen. You should have been paying attention, but you weren’t. Bumping into someone, you both landed on the floor, your phones and other things flying.

“I am so sorry,” You said, picking up the various items. As you reached for one of the notebooks, your hands met and you finally saw who you had bumped into.

“Is this a game to you?” Charlie asked. His eyes were tear-stained, and you slowly noticed that some of the pages had tears on them too.

“I-” You picked his phone up along with yourself off the floor. “Are you okay?” You asked softly, tucking his phone into his back pocket, where you knew it had been before.

“Does it look like it? God, will you just fuck off! When are you leaving anyway?” He grumbled, his previously sad tone taking on a very harsh one. His hand that used to lay by his side was now in a very tight fist.

“I’m leaving after New Years. Your mom asked me to stay, and she’s paying for the flight back,” You said, answering honestly. You didn’t know what happened when he got angry- really, truly angry. And you didn’t want to see it.

“That’s why she had me- Oh my god, no. Just no.” He barked, stalking off.

“Yeah, you know what, fuck you too,” You whispered hotly, calming yourself down as you walked into the kitchen.

~

“Cause I don’t care when I’m with my baby yeah,” You sang along with the T.V. You enjoyed dancing to the Wii, and you hadn't minded when Anna had asked you to join. But the same song had played over five times now.

As the song ended, you placed your control down. “Gimme ten minutes, okay? I just gotta get some water,” She nodded, and you stepped out of the room and entered the kitchen.

“Is it this cabinet?” You said, opening the cabinet that you guessed the glasses were in. They weren’t in that one. Or the next, or the next or the next.

“Excuse me,” Charlie said, stepping around you to open a cabinet you could have sworn you had opened. He grabbed a glass and closed the cabinet, and poured himself a glass of water.

You opened the cabinet to grab a glass, but they seemed just out of your reach. You got on your tiptoes, and your fingers just brushed the edge of the glass.

He let out a little chuckle and grabbed the glass, and filled it up. “Thank you,” You said, reaching for it.

“Oh, you thought this was for you?” He feigned shock. “This is for Anna, she asked me to grab her a glass.”

“Are you kidding me?” You shouted after his retreating form. Sighing, you decided you could do without water as you walked back into the game room.

He sat smugly on the couch, sipping at his glass of water.

“Come on, let’s play!” Anna said, tugging at your hand.

“What song?” You asked, looking to the screen as she pressed play.

“I love it when you call me senorita, I wish I could pretend I didn’t need ya,” Anna sang to the track.

You felt the beat and began to follow the moves on the screen. You knew Charlie was staring at you, and so you made everything bigger. More power, more accuracy, more everything.

When the song ended, he walked out of the room, but he backtracked to whisper something in your ear.

“Strictly professional, Ms.Y/L/N. You aren’t that good of a dancer.”

~

“What do you think of this, Anna?” You said, showing the young girl the sparkling black dress you had on.

“You need more color! And that’s too shiny, and you wore it to Christmas dinner, and-“ She could have kept going, but she caught sight of something in your closet and pulled it out. “This! This is perfect!” Red, off-the shoulder, a leg slit, it was something you would never wear in a million years.

“I’ll… try it on?” You said, and Anna smiled as you stepped into the bathroom.

You pulled it off the black dress and put on the red one, but as you zipped up the back of the dress there was something in the way. A little card.

“Huh,” You were confused as you pulled it out, but as you read it, everything made sense.

You placed the card down to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress fit perfectly, falling down every curve perfectly. It wasn’t you that you saw in the mirror. It was who you pictured in your mind when you thought of yourself.

“Can I see it now?” Anna asked, knocking on the door.

“Yeah,” You said, opening the door.

“Woah,” She gasped softly, looking you up and down. “I think Charlie’s gonna love it.”

Before you could say anything in response, Anna ran out of the room.

~

“Really?”’ You said as you accepted the call on your phone. “I look amazing, but why?”

“Remind me what you’re talking about?” Savannah asked.

“Your acting is on point, Savannah Lee May.”

“Ooh, full name, I’m so scared!” She laughed. “You look good in red, and I knew you would need a dress for New Years!”

“Ya know, if you want to switch to facetime, all you need to do is ask. And the answer is yes.” You rolled your eyes as she squealed, quickly switching to facetime.

“You look stunning!” She gasped. “I wish I could pull off a dress that good!” She whined a bit.

“Who are you talking to?” Owen hollered in the background.

“Y/N! She looks amazing in the dress, come see!”

“Hey Y/N,” Owen said, stepping into frame. He made a face at Savannah. “If she wears that, you have to deal with Charlie when he calls to ruin my New Years.”

“What does he mean?” You asked. Savannah muted herself and had a heated argument with Owen before answering you.

“When we were drunk one time, Charlie talked about his ex. Specifically, the dress she always wore. A red off the shoulder with,” You cut her off.

“With one leg slit. Well that is specific, and I am not the woman that he wants to see in it.”

“It goes further,” She said. “The only people that heard that conversation were Jer, Caroline, Owen and I. So he’ll know that I did this, and he will call Owen to let out his frustration. He’s a nice guy, in that he’ll only yell at men. Truly yell.”

“Wow. So you are sending me into a death trap?”

“Not exactly-“ Owen’s phone rang, cutting her off.

“It’s him! Get over here and answer the phone for me please, Sav!” Owen shouted.

“Who?”

“Anna must’ve told him. She found the dress in my stuff.” You told her and she sighed, hanging up.

~

Music played loudly, filling every corner of the house. And where the music was, there were people. Maybe 75 or so, but it was only 11:30, and you had a feeling that number would increase. You didn’t know what, or more specifically who you were looking for as you scanned the room you were in.

“Hey doll, have a drink!” A random man said, and as he walked by he passed a drink to you. A clear but faintly yellow liquid was in the cup. You didn’t want to know what it was.

“Bottoms up-“ You said, about to tip the cup back and down it before someone pulled it out of your hands.

“I may despise you, but I am not about to let you get roofied,” Charlie said, handing you a beer. “Don’t you know that you have to be holding something at one of these kinds of parties?”

“I didn’t realize it was gonna be one of these kinds of parties,” You muttered, taking a swig of the beer.

“It’s always been like this,” He said, watching all of the couples.

“How close are we to midnight?” You asked.

“Maybe 30 miniutes? I’m gonna go see how my family is.” He said, leaving you in your tiny corner.

~

“10,” The room continued to chant.

You searched the room for Charlie, or at least a familiar face. Couples surrounded you, preparing to kiss at midnight. And you, like a 5 year old, prepared to cover your eyes.

“9,” There was no sign of him, but there were a few men around the room with a similar haircut. You slowly ruled them out.

“8,” His hair was too short.

“7,” His was too dark.

“6,” He was too short.

“5, 4,” You started to give up, just as you saw a couple emerge from one of the back rooms. That couldn’t be him, could it?

“3!” But that was his voice.

“2!” And that was his jacket. Your face dropped as you prepared yourself. You knew what the incoming trainwreck was but you couldn’t look away.

“Happy New Year!” The couples shouted before pulling their lover close.

You watched as his lips met hers. You looked for a bit too long before tearing your eyes away and stalking to your room. But you couldn’t help but look back, and when you did, your eyes met his for a moment.

And the mood shifted.

~

Send me an ask if you’d like to join my tag list(s)! Strike through means i wasn’t able to tag you.

Enemies to Lovers Tag List: @yagorlemmalyn @ifilwtmfc @kaitieskidmore1 @p0uge420

JATP: @n0wornever @unsaidmegan @calamitykaty @screwunsaidemily @crybabyddl @badwolf00593

All: @funsizearsonist

[seriouslyhooked]

The Best Bad Idea

Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories. 

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here. 

A/N: Hey all! Here is a little something I made instead of being a responsible writer and finishing my other projects. I’ll be back to my other WIPs soon (God willing), but in the meantime here’s my 1000th attempt at writing a Captain Swan meet cute. I needed to get some words on the page, and this is the result. Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, Thump. Steady, sure, and even. A solid pulsing sound with no inconsistencies and no delays or false starts.

In this particular patient, that fourth set of beats was the most important. Prior to his recent operation, Earl MacDonald’s heart had been weak and skipping needed pulses, then constricting far too harshly on every fourth measure. That type of arrhythmia had potentially disastrous consequences, but those worrying beats were seemingly behind them. The rhythm Emma heard through the stethoscope was a regularly circulating drumline, the tell-tale song of a heart that was working, and working well. Her surgical intervention had been successful.

She gently released the breath she was holding, a sign of the stress that she carried while waiting for patients to recuperate. Emma never let the patients see her sweat, but she had been worried on multiple levels in this case. Earl was going on 80, and not a logical contender for intensive cardiac mediation, but Emma’s gut had told her he could handle it, and she was rarely ever wrong. Earl forged through the surgery like a much younger man, and his outputs post-operation had all been extremely encouraging. It was shaping up to be another win, another life saved thanks to the power of medicine, and that filled Emma with real joy. She always did her absolute best to create good outcomes, and this time there was so much more on the line than one life. This was a man who was loved and cherished by the people closest to him, and who would be sorely missed if something were to happen.

“Anything you want me to note for the chart, Doctor Swan?” 

Emma bit back a witty retort at the pointed use of the word ‘Doctor.’ She was one of the few surgeons in this hospital who didn’t care what people called her, as long as they called on her early enough to actually save the patient’s life. But with Belle, a person Emma considered a dear and true friend, there was an added lilt of sass when using her title. Her friend was one of the nurse practitioners that Emma had been working with for years, since the day she landed here as a medical intern, but despite their differences in degrees, Belle was easily the most well-read and brilliant resource when it came to medical literature in this hospital.

“Just that Mr. MacDonald is healing nicely.”

“Did you hear that Lorraine?” Earl asked, with a Cheshire cat smile on his face, and the glint of true pride in his eyes. “Doctor Emma says I’m healing nicely.”

“Hard not to hear, seeing as I’m right beside you,” Loraine quipped, but she squeezed his hand affectionately, and offered a warm smile to her husband all the same.

“You know, usually being dubbed ‘nice’ is the kiss of death for a man.”

“Earl!” Loraine chastised, clearly not liking his word choice. Earl smiled wider, looking almost boyish in his delight.

“Well, so to speak. But I was going to say that I think we can make an exception this time. I’ve never been so happy to be referred to as ‘nice’ in my life.”

“Technically Doctor Swan was referring to your vital signs, Earl,” Belle taunted from across the room, holding back a smile Emma knew she was bound to let loose soon enough.

“Aw come on, you both know I am your favorite patient. I mean I’m not exactly pressed for competition. Have you seen the people on this floor? Good grief.”

“Ignore him, ladies. He’s all talk. He hasn’t left this room since we got here,” Loraine said, rolling her eyes, as if these antics were a constant occurrence. Based on her small window of experience with Earl, Emma would believe it. “Every meal, every visit, every moment has been within these four walls. Even his PT has been in here.”

“His PT has been here?” Emma asked, surprised that Mary Margaret, their head Occupational Therapist, had allowed for that. She was normally a by-the-book professional, and Emma never knew her friend to provide rehab consults outside of her studio.

“Yup. I told Miss Mary Margaret that I had a wife to keep an eye on and she relented.”

“No, actually what you said was, ‘Excuse me, Ms. Blanchard? You probably heard I just had heart surgery. Well, the thing is, my heart is sitting in this room. I’d like to be with her. Doesn’t seem right to be separated so soon, given what we’ve been through.’ Then you pointed at me, and used your puppy dog eyes on her. Next thing I knew, she had lugged enough equipment to fill the room here. No questions, just action.”

“I bet she ate that right up,” Belle said with a wink. “Mary Margaret loves nothing more than love itself.”

Belle and Mrs. MacDonald discussed Mary Margaret’s love of love, and Earl’s improved mobility, for a few more minutes while Emma continued checking his stats, but ultimately Earl’s patience was wearing thin. He really only had one thing on his mind, and he was now determined to ask about it. Emma was honestly shocked that he managed to wait this long. She knew it was only a matter of time and she was ready for the showdown.

“So, what do you think, Doc? Am I making it home in time for the party?”

“The one for your grandson on Sunday?” she asked, noting the three-day window between now and then. She had heard about this party non-stop, since the moment Earl woke up from the procedure. It was a central fixation for the old man, a celebration that would host his entire family, and a goal he had been carrying for over a week. Earl nodded and Emma hesitated for a few seconds, before smiling and giving the good news away. “Yes, I am confident that Jayden’s ‘Pop Pops’ will be in attendance when he turns four. But you know the rules…”

“I know, I know: no good food, no strenuous exercise, no having fun.”

“Earl.” Just the utterance of the old man’s name from his wife was enough to have him looking like a kid with his hand caught in the candy jar. Emma and Belle both chuckled at that child-like expression. It was hard not to; the old married couple was just too sweet.

“I’m sorry. I know this is serious, but what is life if you can’t have a little fun?”

“Fun comes in all shapes and sizes, Mr. MacDonald, and despite what you may think about your prescribed lifestyle changes, you’re forgetting two things. First, most of these less-alluring prescriptions will be temporary, and second, you’re a man who clearly loves a challenge.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you know that, Doc?” 

“Well for one thing, you somehow landed a lady as remarkable as Loraine. There’s no way she came easy with these corny jokes of yours. You must have worked harder than you ever worked in your life to persuade her to give you a chance.”

The laughter from the older couple was boisterous and heartwarming, and Emma knew she was right on the money. At this point, she had the ability to sniff out true affection, and these two had it in spades. Many couples she saw facing emergency room disasters together didn’t have the same good luck.

“You got that right, Doc. You know the first time we met was at the -,”

Earl’s story was unceremoniously interrupted by the crackling of the PA system specific to this room. It buzzed for a few moments before a message was delivered in a saccharine sweet voice that sounded nothing like the announcer’s normal tone.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station, code 741.”

Emma waited for the feed to cut off and began to tell Earl to please go on with the story, but the call came out again.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, code 741.”

“You know she’s just going to keep doing that until she gets her way,” Belle murmured. Emma nodded. It was no use. What Ruby Lucas wanted, Ruby Lucas got. That just seemed to be the way of the world.

“Belle, would you mind telling Ruby I’m with a patient at the moment? I will be there when I can. She can always proceed without me.”

Belle snorted out a laugh, knowing that last part would never happen, but gave a swift affirmation that she would relay the message before waving goodbye to the MacDonald’s and promising to see them soon. As her friend headed out, Emma sighed, knowing there was no way Ruby was going to give things up that easily. She had a matter of moments before some new tactic would be deployed.

“I’m sorry about that. You were saying?”

“Eh it’s kind of a long story, and you’ve got places to be, Doc. Just know, true love won out in the end with me and my Loraine. It always does.”

Emma couldn’t deny that their love appeared true even after their fifty plus years together. She personally had never experienced a love like that, but she was wondering more and more if maybe it was out there, somewhere in the later chapters of her story. For years she thought herself above that kind of need. She found validation in herself and in her work. She dedicated herself to helping others, and that had always been enough. But the loneliness that became a constant when she was growing up in foster care still lingered, and she wondered if someone might ever come along who could inspire her to take a chance and risk her heart.

“You know, I actually worked as a nurse before my kids were born,” Loraine commented easily. Emma nodded and smiled as she checked the last of Mr. MacDonald’s IV drips. Emma was aware of the older woman’s solid medical understanding. Loraine had continued to demonstrate it the entire time her husband was admitted in this ward. “I’m trying to remember if I ever ran into a code 741.”

“Oh, uh, I think – well, erm, I mean you probably didn’t,” Emma said, hoping she didn’t turn beet red at the passing comment from the older woman. She was already stuttering, which was completely out of character and eighty shades of embarrassing. Loraine’s words feigned ignorance, but her eyes told a different story. Still Emma tried to play it off. “It’s really not a big deal. Just a non-emergent protocol.”

Another alert sounded, but this time it came through the ceiling unit reserved for announcements to the wider reaches of the hospital. “Attention to all surgical ward personnel. We are paging Doctor Swan to the nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, you are needed at the nurse’s station immediately for a code 741.” The talking stopped, but the air crackled signaling that the line was still live. “Immediately.”

“Sounds pretty urgent to me,” Loraine replied. The curiosity in her gaze told Emma that the older woman was onto them, but it was Earl’s comment that cut too close for comfort.

“When I was in the war, all of our numeric codes corresponded to letters. So 7 was H, 4 was D, 1 was A. H – D – A. HDA, now what could that be….?” Uh oh. Now Emma really had to get out of here before she accidentally admitted Ruby’s code’s meaning – Hot Doctor Alert. That would be the cherry on top of a full-blown mortification sundae.

“All righty, well like I told Belle, all your scans look good. Doctor Whale is on shift this evening during the next series of rounds, so I’ll make sure your file is ready for him.”

“Of course, dear, and good luck with your doctor, er – I mean – code.”

Emma stammered out something like an ‘okay thanks,’ while leaving. She tried to get her bearings once she was out of sight of the room, but she had nowhere to go. Everyone on this floor had just heard her page, and there were bound to be at least a few who understood the meaning. She was so embarrassed, and more than a little ticked at Ruby. She was supposed to be her best friend, but she was always pulling these crazy stunts. They were mostly harmless, but for Emma, who hated being the subject of hospital gossip, it was anxiety inducing to say the least.

“Please tell me that you did not just broadcast that to the entire hospital,” Emma said, arriving at the nurse’s station with a sense of urgency, and watching some of the other nurses scurry off to avoid the confrontation. Ruby, however, was unfazed. Actually, the nurse manager just rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag and phone from her cubby, as if Emma was the one who was annoying and not the other way around.

“And here I was thinking we were the best of friends. Soul sisters, kindred spirits, friends for life. But no, ye of little faith, you actually believe I would broadcast the hot doc alert to all of Mist Haven? What kind of friend would do that?”

“But if you didn’t… then how did you…?” Emma’s questions trailed off, but her arms flailed towards the ceiling and the look on her face spoke for itself – how had Ruby used the hospital wide PA system without actually broadcasting to the entire hospital?

“You know Tink up in nuero?” Emma nodded, well acquainted with the nurse manager who had Ruby’s job on the fifth floor but with a specialization of the brain and nervous system. She was a tiny woman, but she ruled that ward with more than capable hands. “She and I bribed the IT guys to make the nurse managers an override. Now we can circumvent the PA software whenever we want. Bring some of you more stubborn Doctors to heal when it comes to answering our pages.”

“That’s… well, actually that’s genius,” Emma admitted.

“I like to think so,” Ruby teased, offering a genuine smile. The two friends laughed at all of this, and Emma felt so much better knowing that their secret was still relatively secure. The last thing she wanted was everyone knowing how she was spending her lunch breaks these days.  

“Gus, you’re holding down the fort while I’m gone, right?” Ruby asked, her smile turning slightly wicked with the purposeful jest aimed at the new nursing aid sitting behind the desk.

“Me?” The new hire replied, suddenly white as a sheet. Emma had never seen the man so stricken, and as a new nurse he had plenty of high-stress moments to look alarmed during. “I – uh – well – I -,”

“It’s called comedic relief, Gus. Commonly referred to as joking. Do me a favor, learn about it by the end of shift, kay?” Ruby pivoted to the person she actually trusted to man the fort. “Thirty minutes work for you, Belle?”

“I’ve got it handled.”

“Excellent. We’ll return with a full report,” Ruby said, grabbing Emma’s arm and moving them down the hallway before Emma could even say goodbye. “Newbies – can’t live with them, can’t pawn off scut work without them.”

“You are terrible. And yet… the look on his face just now…? Priceless,” Emma acquiesced. “But seriously, Ruby, can we PLEASE find another way to page me for this? My patients are not stupid, and the code isn’t exactly original. It’s kind of…” Ruby’s grin was so big that it stopped Emma in her tracks. She was currently trying to hold her friend to account, but Ruby looked like she’d won the lottery. “What?”

“You are so totally into him! I mean listen to you right now.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Emma said, feeling her cheeks flush against her will. 

“Exactly,” Ruby said. “You’re telling me to be more discreet when I send the bat signal, but you still want me to send it. Do you realize how unlike you that is?”

“Despite what you may think, Ruby. I’m a doctor, I’m not dead. I can appreciate a hot guy now and again.”

“Doubtful. Remember last month when all those pro hockey players were here after Ocheski collapsed on the ice? You had a room full of crazy sexy men. Like virile, hot, muscled men who get paid big money to beat each other up on the ice. Most women would die for that chance, and to make it even better, most of them were hitting on you. And what did you do? Nothing. You didn’t even blink.”

“They were not hitting on me,” Emma affirmed, but the words were hollow. They had been trying to flirt with her. A few had even attempted to get her number.

“They were hitting on you,” Ruby said adamantly.  

“He was a patient, and the rest of them were essentially his family. You know I’d never cross that line. Doesn’t count.”

“Fine, then what about Dr. King? When he came for that conjoined twins case last year, you had no interest. Zero. Zilch.”

“King was an asshole, you know that,” Emma said, belatedly catching her use of profanity and checking that no patients were around. Luckily the coast was clear.

“So? You didn’t have to marry the guy. Hot is hot, honey. That’s just how things are.” 

Emma barked out a laugh at even the thought of marrying someone like that. Arthur King was just about the worst person she could fathom to spend a life with. He was narcissistic and carrying around one of the biggest god-complexes she’d ever seen, and she was a surgeon, so she was an expert on god-complexes. 

“Your face really says it all, Emma. I mean honestly, poker would be a terrible game for you to take up. Your contempt for King is obvious, but, meanwhile, as soon as I mention Doctor Jones… aha! See, totally shifted.”

Emma didn’t know what to say to that. She could try and protest, but her friend knew her too well for that. The best thing to do was say nothing, and she was saved by their arrival at their destination. The coffee cart in the center of the action, near the entrance of Mist Haven. Here was where the wards crossed paths. Her surgical wing met up with the specialties departments, the ER, the community clinic, and more. It was also swarmed with both hospital workers and visitors. Typically, this was the last place she wanted to be, but recently it had become a highlight of her day.

“Emma? Ruby? What’s brought you out here?” a voice asked. It was Mary Margaret, and given her street clothes and jacket, Emma would guess she was just starting her shift.

“Haven’t you heard? There’s fresh meat from the ER. Two showings a day, but we favor the afternoon delight.”

“Oh right,” Mary Margaret said, nodding, like Ruby’s words were totally normal, and for Ruby they were. “I heard about the new ER Chief. Doctor Nolan? I meant to get down there and bring him something to welcome him, but I’ve been so swamped this week. My caseload is crazy at the moment. I hope he won’t think too badly of me for being a bit late.”

“Mary Margaret, literally no one in a hospital brings people cupcakes as a welcome gift, especially not new guys in other departments.” Ruby was not wrong. Hospitals were hardly the most happy-go-lucky of places. At least not usually. “Believe me, the man will be grateful whenever they come. If he even eats them. He’s fit – like fit, fit. Keto diet and a personal trainer fit. The kind of fit that makes you -,”

“Careful, Ruby,” Emma teased. “What if Graham heard you saying that?”

“God, I wish. You know how worked up he gets, and how he works out his frustrations.” Ruby’s tone was dripping in suggestion. “It’s one of the many reasons I live to drive him crazy.”

Emma and Mary Margaret laughed at Ruby’s apt assessment of her relationship with her boyfriend. Ruby had been dating the fireman for almost a year now, since he came in on one of the ambulance bays with a victim he’d rescued from a fire, but Ruby was hardly the predictable type, and Graham seemed to love that about her. They were still going strong despite her willful, wild child nature, and Emma suspected they may be built to last.

“Doctor Nolan must really be something to get you out here, Emma,” Mary Margaret said, moving forward in the line, inching ever closer to the mediocre coffee the cart promised.  

“Ha! Hardly. Emma’s not here for Nolan. She’s here for Jones.”

“Jones?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Girl, where have you been? Doctor Killian Jones, trauma surgeon extraordinaire. Chief Mills brought him here for a ‘collaboration’ with the ER, but she’s totally trying to recruit him for head of his own department. Turns out he and David Nolan are old friends. Same medical school maybe? I don’t know, no one’s gotten me those details yet. Anyway, Regina hardly leaves him alone. She only misses this little window because she’s hooking up with Doctor Locksley in the supply room on the 2nd floor.”

“She’s WHAT?!” Emma and Mary Margaret yelled at the same time and Ruby looked aghast for the first time today. Some other hospital staff in the area glanced over, but no one paid much mind beyond a head nod. Everyone was absorbed in their own need for caffeine, and no one was the wiser of the bombshell Ruby had just dropped.

“Oh shoot, I wasn’t supposed to say that. I promised Ella, damn it!”

“Ella, her assistant? I thought she quit,” Mary Margaret stage whispered.

“Oh she did. Made it a whole two months, which, you know, makes sense given the fact that Regina is a nightmare. But the last week she was here, she learned a crucial secret regarding her Majesty. She spilled last week at The White Rabbit, but I promised her I wouldn’t tell until she’s settled at her new job at GMH. So you did not hear this from me, and I did not hear this from her, capische?”

“I can’t believe the Evil Queen is dating someone,” Mary Margaret said, deeply disturbed by the idea. She shuddered at the thought, and this was someone who loved love. But love and Regina Mills didn’t really feel like concepts that belonged in the same sentence. Scratch that, they didn’t really even belong in the same book. “She’s just so…”

“Evil?” Emma responded. The nickname worked for a reason, after all. The hospital Chief was downright tyrannical.

“Exactly.”

“Well dating is a stretch. She’s screwing someone. But then again, who knows. Ella said she actually saw her smiling in those final days. And not that evil one she’s famous for. Like a real, genuine, I have a heart, smile.”

“No way,” Emma said at the same time Mary Margaret murmured, “Well would you look at that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m on the case. The temp is a totally easy mark – Sydney something. I’m buying him lunch tomorrow. I’ll have the whole story before you know it.”

“Won’t Graham be proud,” Emma chuckled, but her joke fell on deaf ears as something caught Ruby’s attention across the way. Her friend’s countenance changed immediately, putting Emma on alert.

“Ooh, they’re coming! Act normal.”

Normally, Emma would have laughed at that command, but she was too busy feeling the spike of adrenaline at the impending arrival of one Doctor Killian Jones. He really was a world-renowned trauma surgeon, who was working on a number of cutting-edge techniques that saved lives and gave critical care patients better chances to recover. She had actually heard of him a few years ago when reading about a new procedure to treat arrhythmia in patients with traumatic injury. He engineered it in the field, while serving in the British naval forces, and his paper had been circulating in cardiac wings around the country, but she never saw the man before last week when he arrived in Boston.  Suffice it to say she could not have imagined that this marvel of modern medicine would also be so roguishly handsome.

Spotting him today across the great hall, Emma was struck again by just how attractive this man was. She couldn’t even comprehend it really. All she knew was that she had yet to find a fault in him. Every day she’d stolen secret glances, and every time he proved better than her memory. It was crazy, and very reminiscent of schoolgirl crushes and teenage day dreams, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. It was intoxicating, and despite her best efforts, she was powerless to turn Ruby’s invites to the show down when she could witness this each and every day.

The first thing that she’d noticed about him was his general presence. His posture was strong and straight and assured. He looked ready for anything, but somehow laid back, like he was totally in control. People naturally parted when he walked by, as if he silently willed the flow of the hospital traffic. Ruby called it swagger. Emma called it… well something not quite safe for work. Couple that general aura of authority with the classically gorgeous features of his face, and Emma was lost. On that first day (and okay, maybe on the others as well), she actually felt her knees get weak. She always thought that was a bogus cliché, but nope, it was real, and she was the proof of it. From there she was hooked, and over time she’d chronicled more and more things to like about him.

Yesterday it had been his hair. As she watched him across the atrium, she noticed that the shade shone bright in the sun, but that it was nearer to midnight than any color brown. It was slightly longer than most of the other male doctors wore theirs, but not so long that it looked unkempt or unprofessional, at least not yet. She knew for a fact that the military never would allow for such a style, and it felt like a bit of rebellion, or maybe a lack of care for what others thought. Both sent a delicious thrill through Emma, even though she had no real confirmation one way or another. Maybe he was just lazy, but that wasn’t how she imagined him…

And oh boy did she imagine him. At first she hadn’t meant to. She just had these flashbacks to seeing him that she carried through the day. These visceral visions always started the same: he would walk by, looking downright delicious and impossible to resist, then he would turn his eyes her way here in the middle of the hospital hustle and bustle. She’d feel caught in his stare, sense the hunger even from the distance, and her heart would quicken to a maddening crescendo as he walked her way. The rest of the world would fade from view, and it would feel like they were the only two people alive. Her gaze would stay transfixed on his almost cocky composure and the hard line of his bearded jaw. The attraction in his blue eyes would light a fire in her, and then, without so much as a word like ‘hello’ or ‘nice to meet you,’ he’d pull her into his embrace and kiss her senseless. She could practically taste him on her tongue, and yet she’d never even heard him speak. People who had, who were later interrogated by Ruby, mentioned that he had an accent. British or Irish, or something along those lines. That tidbit had played oh so sweetly in Emma’s mind this week. God, she’d love to hear him say her name -,

“Emma,” a voice beside her said, but it didn’t pull her out of the fog. “Oh my God, Emma, he’s looking right at you.”

“He’s what?” Emma said, blinking back to reality before finding that Doctor Jones was looking this way. She’d been so busy fantasizing, she stopped paying attention to what was right in front of her.

In the middle of the room, the man who had intrigued her for over a week was standing totally still, disregarding the swarm of people on all sides. His entire attention had shifted from the task ahead of him, and he was looking at her, staring with a blend of intrigue and something Emma couldn’t describe. Doctor Nolan had stopped as well, but he was clearly confused as to the delay. He seemed to ask his friend what was wrong, and Emma watched spell bound, as the lips she’d envisioned kissing her moved in some kind of unheard reply. She couldn’t make out his words, but she shivered at the passion and determination etched across his being. David then looked their way, and Emma knew that Doctor Jones – Killian - had asked about them. No, forget that, he had asked about her. He was looking right at her, and that spark of heat and desire she’d always imagined was nowhere near as tantalizing as the real thing. He was looking at her with the same hunger she’d reserved for her wildest imaginings. Holy crap, what was she going to do?

“Ruby?” she asked, her voice squeaked out in alarm. She tore her gaze from the approaching object of her desire and looked to her best friend with overt confusion and mild panic.

“Took him long enough to spot you. It’s been almost a week. I thought I was going to have to hire a marching band or one of those giant arrow guys they have at outlet malls.”

Emma didn’t understand, and then it dawned on her – her friend had planned this. Emma looked at Mary Margaret, but she was still staring in the distance. Only when Emma followed her gaze did she realize that Mary Margaret wasn’t looking at Killian. She was looking at David.

“Hey, ladies, you looking to order, or what? I ain’t got all day!”

The three of them jumped at the barista’s interruption and Mary Margaret surged ahead to the line. She rattled off an order, giving way too much money to the attendant while grabbing her cup with shaky hands. Then she looked at David and back to Emma with an expression that said Mary Margaret may just bolt. Ok, what the actual hell was going on?

Before she could begin to answer that internal question, Doctor Jones and Doctor Nolan were within ear shot. Emma wracked her brain for something to say when they finally got here, but was spared when David broke the ice.

“Doctor Swan,” he said with a head nod and a polite smile. They knew each other peripherally at this point. Emma had consulted on numerous ER cases since Doctor Nolan started his new position. But she wouldn’t call them friends. They were very much acquaintances. “I heard Earl MacDonald is recovering nicely. He most definitely has you to thank for that.”

“And you too,” she said, offering credit where it was due. “A quick diagnosis makes all the difference. I’ve noticed the ER is filled with them since you started.”

“That’s kind of you. I don’t believe you’ve met my friend, Doctor Jones.”

“Killian,” Doctor Jones said immediately, before offering a heart stopping smile of his own. Emma had yet to see the man smile, and her heart skipped a beat, the rhythm of her pulse skittering in an almost blissful way. “A pleasure to meet you, Swan.”

He offered his hand to her, and Emma took it, shaking in greeting even though it was uncommon for doctors or nursing staff to do so. Chief Mills stressed that germ management was a top priority at Mist Haven, and she’d come as close to banning the practice as was legal in the state of Massachusetts. Usually Emma didn’t mind, but germs were the farthest thing from her radar when their fingers touched. Instead, Emma was filled with the zapping sense of promise and a thrill of warmth that made her head swim.

“Emma,” she whispered. A beat passed between them, and Emma lost herself for too long. Only the clearing of a throat beside them brought her back to the moment. She let go of his hand, but tracked the slight disappointment on his face when she did. It filled her with a rush of something long forgotten. A sense of peace and elation she hadn’t tasted in years. “Um these are my friends, Ruby Lucas and Mary Margaret Blanchard. Ruby’s the head nurse in the cardiac unit. And Mary Margaret runs OT for the surgical division.”

Emma tore her gaze from Killian, watching her friends make their greetings. Ruby handled her own completely, and Mary Margaret seemed to have gathered her courage, but now it was David who looked shocked and spell bound. Everyone appeared to be thrown off kilter, and it was only Ruby in control of herself. To say her friend was positively delighted with these new developments would be an understatement. That glee rang out clear as day in her invite to both the attending doctors.

“So… Doctor Nolan, Doctor Jones, any way we could convince you to join us? The coffee’s just all right, but the company’s not half bad.”

Both men agreed immediately, and Emma fought her hardest not to blush. It was hard though, and her pulse was racing in the face of this development. Killian came to stand by her, the space between them so small but still too much to bear. She tried to get her bearings as the cranky barista handed her a latte. She struggled to think of something – anything – to say, but she was tongue tied. Instead, she looked at Killian, finding an openness in his expression that said he felt the same exact way. That gave her comfort and removed some of the tension from the moment.

“The hospital’s been buzzing since you got here,” Emma offered, waiting with him while he ordered a no nonsense coffee of his own. “A lot of people are hoping you’ll stay on past the month.”

“And you, love? Have you such hopes?” his words were earnest but laced with an almost cocky easiness that sent Emma’s mind humming in delight. Still, she played it cool. At least she hoped she did.

“Jury’s still out,” she replied, smiling when he looked a little crestfallen. “Well can you blame me? I hardly even know you. Still haven’t seen what you’re capable of.”

“Only a matter of time, Swan. You can trust in that.”

His words may seem benign, but they were loaded with hidden meaning, and Emma knew he meant each one. She swallowed harshly, thinking of the things he might be capable of. Damn, was it hot in here? Or was it just the devil on her shoulder spinning another one of those dirty dreams of hers?

When they’d all gotten a coffee, the five of them moved off to the patio just outside, reserved for hospital staff. The grounds were manicured beautifully, maintaining an oasis that seemed totally disconnected from the hectic nature of the hospital. This was one of Emma’s favorite places here, and she was surprised to hear that neither David nor Killian had been here yet. They all spent a few minutes making non-threatening small talk, with mostly Ruby moving the conversations along. But despite the fluttering feeling she was grappling with, Emma couldn’t say she hated this building anticipation. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. She was seated next to Killian, fully aware that all of his attention was devoted to her, and she reveled in it. At one point, while the others were talking about something with the OT department, Killian whispered to her and her alone.

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…” His eyes looked from hers down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from him. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across the summer sky.

“We could…” she continued, hoping he would elaborate and put into words what she herself was wishing for.

“That we could -,”

“Paging all staff to the ER. All staff to the ER for an incoming trauma, category 4.”

This time the PA was most definitely broadcasting a hospital wide announcement, and the irony wasn’t lost on Emma. Ruby looked positively forlorn at the interruption, but it was somewhat poetic after how they’d gotten here.

“Category four,” David repeated, standing immediately, prompting all of them to do the same. “We haven’t had a four since I started. We’re gonna need all hands on deck. Killian?”

“Aye, mate. I’m with you.” He looked back to Emma, and only had time for the swiftest goodbye. “Until next time, love.”

Emma and her friends watched them go, running towards the ER. Belatedly, they realized that if a trauma of that magnitude was coming into the hospital, there were bound to be surgical cases flooding their ward soon enough. They hustled back to their wing, focused once more on their jobs and the lives on the line that they were sworn to help heal and make better. But Emma still carried that moment with her for the rest of the day, and when the shift was over and done, and she’d done all she could to help the people in her care, she was left wondering what exactly Doctor Jones was hoping to ask, and when, oh when, he may try to do so again.

Post-Note: So there we have it. This was originally going to be a oneshot for my CS mixtape series, but alas, the muse wants what she wants, and this time that’s a three part mini-story for all of us to share. Hope that you guys have enjoyed so far and I would love to hear what you think! As always, thanks so much for reading, and I hope you are all staying well in this crazy time! xE

[quixotin]

Adrinette April Day 2: Rebellion

@adrinetteapril

Read on AO3  scene adapted from Chapter 9 of The Wall Between Us

Marinette let go of a long sigh as she reclined her back against the cool wood of the bench. She was at the park next to her house. It had been a long, long day at school and she was happy that it was finally behind her. Sketching for a few minutes, sitting under the cool shade of a tree always helped her shed the frustrations of the day; particularly one as taxing as this one. She made herself comfortable on the bench, took a deep breath, and gathered her creativity, focusing it at the tip of her pencil as she prepared to spill it into a design. As she did this, she lifted her sight to find the muse of the day, something that might be worth putting into paper. 

Something like... Adrien sneaking out of fencing practice?

The girl observed him from a baffled distance, witnessing the way he sported an uncharacteristic devious smirk on his face as he hurriedly descended down the steps of the school, two at a time. He looked to each side of the street, as if looking for spies, and darted in Marinette’s direction; to the park. 

The comical then happened: Stepping into the park, he shed his usual white overshirt and shoved it into his sports bag, produced an unassuming grey hoodie along with an insulting neon green cap, and quickly put them on. Merrily, he walked with a light spring towards the park kiosk to buy himself a soda and then proceeded to find a bench to sit on. 

Witnessing Adrien being so evidently pleased at breaking the rules was like watching a cat walk on its hindlegs: bizarre, to say the least. 

Marinette giggled at his confidence; at how sure he seemed that no one would be able to tell his identity under this poorly-thought disguise. She gathered the courage to go talk to him, just for a quick hello. Making the most of the fact he had not spotted her yet, she approached from behind him.

“FYI, you stick out like a sore thumb with that cap on,” she said, startling Adrien and prying a tiny gasp from him.

“Marinette!” he cried, tugging at his cap as if doing so might conceal his face better. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um... Designs,” she said lamely, lifting her sketchbook for Adrien to see. “But what are you doing here? Don’t you have fencing today?”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “How do you--”

Marinette’s face became red with embarrassment, quickly interrupting him hoping she hadn’t exposed the things she knew about him. “Just a lucky guess, heh, heh.” 

“I’m sneaking out,” he said, scanning the surroundings. 

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because you never know. Natalie always catches me. Sometimes I feel like she tapped my phone or something.”

Marinette pressed her lips into a sympathetic smile, with her courage quickly returning to her to poke fun at him a little more, “Well, one thing is for sure. You’re making it easy for her with that neon green thing on you.” 

“It’s the only cap I could find in the morning! Is it really that bad?”

“Take it off. You call less attention without it,” Marinette said with a giggle. “You wouldn’t be able to hide your identity for the life of you.”

Adrien laughed. “I’ll have you know I have excellent camouflaging skills.”

“Right, right. And I’m Ladybug.” 

Adrien grinned at her. His delighted heart missed a beat or two as he relished in the possibility. 

“Anyway,” Marinette said, nervousness building up inside of her at the prospect of being alone with Adrien. “I should probably get going, good luck with the sneaking out.”

“Wait!” Adrien said, more disappointed than he wanted to sound. “I, um... Would you like to spend some time with me? We could find something to do. If you’re not busy, that is.” 

Marinette ignored the warm blush that crept on her cheeks. “What-- yes. Co fourse! I mean of course! I mean--heh. Yeah, what--what did you have in mind?” 

Adrien beamed at her, stood up, and then gave her a little devilish smirk. Marinette couldn’t help but be both a little worried and infinitely curious to know what sorts of trouble Adrien wanted to get into.

They headed back to the kiosk again, this time with the mission of filling Adrien’s backpack with as many snacks as they could fit. To the clerk’s satisfaction, that involved practically emptying the little hut out of the day’s stock. 

Loot packed up and horrible neon green caps out of the way, Adrien led Marinette to stage two of his plan. They headed a few blocks away from the park, to a residential area where Adrien started testing for unlocked front doors in the apartment buildings. 

“What are you doing?” Marinette asked, a bit bewildered. 

“Looking for an open door,” Adrien explained, simultaneously finding what he was searching for. “Ah! Success!” he exclaimed, pushing the door open. “After you prin--After you.”

Marinette gave him a suspicious look but did his bidding, following him inside and then onto the building’s stairs. 

“Adrien what are you doing?” Marinette asked again, more evidently worried. “We’re going to get in trouble!” 

“No, we’re not,” he assured her as he consistently climbed up the staircase. “Trust me.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve done this before,” she said as she reached the very last floor, finding Adrien negotiating with the lock of the only door there. 

He pulled what looked like a fancy, metal credit card from his wallet, and used to click the lock open. Marinette snorted at the sight. 

“Why use a platinum credit card in the Champs Elysees when you can use it to perform a misdemeanor,” Marinette said. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Adrien said with a wink, pushing the door to the roof open and seizing an indistinct brick that lay there to prevent the door from shutting close. 

“You are an actual teenage vandal aren’t you,” Marinette said, absolutely bewildered at Adrien’s criminal tendencies. “So is this how you spend your free time? Breaking into people’s roofs?”

Adrien giggled as he found a spot to sit near the edge of the building. “In a way, I guess you could say that.” 

Marinette shook her head, still in shock as she joined Adrien. 

Worried at her silence, and that she might think less of him for this little escapade, Adrien hurried to look for her validation. “Are you mad? I swear I’ve only done it a couple of times and if it makes you really uncomfortable we can go down. I’m sorry.” 

Marinette turned to see Adrien’s worried, expectant face. “What? No, no. I’m not mad! It’s okay. It’s just... I never thought you had it in you to be this...”

“Bad?” he asked, sadness staining his tone.

“Rebellious,” she offered instead. “It’s a bit odd. At school, you’re always so, so... perfect.”

Adrien scrunched up his nose. “I know, I hate it,” he confessed, pulling his legs to his chest responding to a subconscious need to hide. 

Trying not to delve too much into the thought, he reached for the bag where the snacks were and emptied their little treasure between them. He gestured for Marinette to have the first pick, which she indulged by grabbing a bag of chips and a bottle of sparkling pink lemonade. 

Adrien grabbed a pack of fruit gummies and plain sparkling water as he spoke again. “Most of the stuff I do, I do it for my father.” He sighed and then continued quietly. “But it doesn’t matter how hard I work, it always feels like it’s not good enough for him and I’m tired of pretending to be someone I am not.”

Marinette’s heart wrung at Adrien’s confession. A small part of her did wonder what brought him to trust her like this so out of the blue, but this and any of her other reservations flew out the window at the sight of him being so evidently upset. It pained Marinette to see him like that.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien,” she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Why? It’s not your fault.”

“I mean, I’m sorry that... that your father makes you feel that way.”

Adrien looked down, hugging his legs a little tighter. 

“But you can always be yourself around me,” she offered, with her voice trembling.

Adrien’s saddened pout slowly melted into a warm smile. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I like spending time with you, Marinette. You’re the greatest friend I could possibly have asked for.”

She tried not to pay too much attention to the utter disappointment that washed over her at the idea of Adrien seeing her as just a friend. Instead, she focused on the part that mattered: That he could have someone with whom he didn’t feel the need to pretend or put up an act. As Ladybug, she knew the burden all too well and didn’t wish it on anyone, certainly not on Adrien.

“Yep,” she said. “That’s what friends are for! Heh, heh.” 

“And um, you, too.”

“Me, too?”

“I mean, you don’t have to pretend around me...” he said, taken aback by the fact he was inexplicably blushing. “I notice that you always get, er... a little tongue-tied.”

“Oh!” Marinette piped, perking up with the dread that suddenly seized her. “That. Ha, ha. That’s nothing! I just... have... uh... you know me. I don’t-- I, why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Adrien said, shrugging. “It’s just, this is the first real conversation you and I have ever had. It’s... nice. I wish we could do it more often.” 

Marinette laughed nervously, beyond herself with mortification and wondering whether Adrien actually knew the kind of influence he had on her. Maybe he did and he just enjoyed messing with her.

“I just... get a little nervous, that’s all,” she said sheepishly.

“Why? Is it because I’m famous?” Adrien said, adopting a smug flair. One that helped Marinette overcome her embarrassment faster than she could say ‘Lucky Charm’. She didn’t know exactly why, but Adrien’s smug, rebellious side--the side she had been witness to for the good part of the last few hours, helped her feel more at ease, more willing to use her own sass on him.

She rolled her eyes and playfully jabbed him with her arm. “You’re so full of yourself, aren’t you?  And here I was, thinking you were a perfectly polite, quiet, well-behaved boy. How wrong I was.”

“I’m all of those things!” Adrien protested as he shoved an indiscriminate handful of gummies into his mouth and leaned back. “But, you know,” he added with a small wink. “What other people don’t know, won’t kill them.”

“Show-off,” Marinette teased. 

“Only with the right audience,” Adrien said, defending himself.

Adrien was about to remark how Marinette was one to talk. How she convinced him of being the class sweetheart when in reality she was as sassy as they come. Unfortunately, he’d have to save that joke for later, because as they bantered, an Akuma rose in the distance. 

Duty called. 

[erricdraven]

Blood and Bone Didn't Make Our Home

Chapter 2 of 3

Pairings: Tara Maclay & Spike, Spike/Buffy Summers

Rating: Teen & Up

Death indeed does not distinguish between the sinners and the saints, and who knows that better than Spike, the master vampire formerly known as Slayer of Slayers and Tara Maclay, the witch who finds death at the end of many paths traveled for love? After meeting for the first time at a generic Sunnydale-apocalypse Scooby gathering, the beginnings of an unspoken comradery flowers, and through a myriad of catastrophes of varying sizes, lucky happenstances, and potential world-endages, the two find that sometimes family is found in the most unlikely places.

Sliding the pizza box onto the table, Spike surveyed his supplies. Pizza, crisps, ice cream, assorted sodas… “Should be everything,” he said to himself as he reflexively reached for the fag behind his ear. No, no smoking around the Bit. She was already itching to get into a little trouble, and God knew the Slayer didn’t need one more thing to hate him for.

Though lately, she seemed to be hating him a little less than usual, and that almost scared him more. It was one thing to have to contend with the fact that, apparently, he’d fallen for love’s bloody trick so long ago that there was nothing he could do now but be dangerously entangled with her for the rest of his days, but to be teased with the hope that maybe she could care for him too?

Fuck.

Every time he tried to resist it, the hazy memories of the Red Witch’s spell that made them want to get hitched in holy matrimony like a couple of normal romantic sods would float back to the surface in suddenly bright, bold, living color, and it hurt so much he thought maybe his heart was trying to beat itself to dust against his ribs. He hadn’t had a night’s sleep without her featured prominently in what felt like an eternity. Even before he’d come back to Sunnydale, he had occasionally dreamt of her, dreamt of finally getting the resolution of an uninterrupted battle to its final end at last and emerging victorious over her with the taste of her blood on his tongue and burning his throat like rich alcohol. Now, though, he dreamt of something far more dangerous—worshipping her with every bit of himself he had left to give, touching her tenderly and delighting in her surrendering to a need for him that she felt just as mightily.

In light of the Initiative’s retelling of Frankenstein, Buffy had come to him to negotiate a truce that could see them as reluctant allies. Sure, he’d botched things up right good for a moment there when he thought he would finally get the sodding chip out at last, but he seemed to have proved himself somewhat in the aftermath. He couldn’t undo the past, but he’d tried to make up for what he had had a hand in worsening. It was clear that she was still keeping a purposeful distance from him in all respects, but the friendship he had cultivated with Dawn over time seemed to have meant something to her too. He didn’t want to admit the extent to which his heart yearned for her that to be true.

The rumble of the crypt door being shifted provided much needed relief from his wallowing, and Spike leaned back against the sarcophagus casually. “Got all the hits, kiddo,” he said when Dawn popped her head inside with a grin. “Just don’t tell big sis we’re getting cavities tonight.”

To his surprise, Tara trailed in behind her. She raised a hand in greeting and gave him one of those sunshine smiles he didn’t deserve. “Hey, sorry. Buffy asked me to drop Dawn off for her. So-something about a situation with Giles she had to deal with? Anyway, you two have fun.” She brusquely walked over to Dawn and pressed a kiss to her temple before smoothing down the hair she’d ruffled. “Buffy’ll pick you up, sweetie.”

“Well, hey, no hurry to go, dove,” Spike said, looking down at his chipped nail polish shyly. God, when did he become this person that wanted to be near people so badly? It was stupid and…he was lonely. Bleeding hell. “We’ve got enough to share, ain’t we, Bit?”

Dawn looked up in surprise, nearly a whole piece of pizza shoved in her mouth already, save for the crust. “Mm ‘oo sood say Ta’a!”

Tara laughed lightly. “Well, as long as I’m not interrupting, I guess I could stay.”

“Nah, help yourself.” Spike gestured to the offerings he had out on the table and then snatched two slices of pizza from the box Dawn was soon to inhale in its entirety.

They settled in on the couch with Tara watching on in amusement as Dawn attempted to talk Spike into letting her watch a horror movie that he was insisting was too mature for her. Truthfully, it was a starter horror, but letting Dawn feel like she was getting away with something always brightened her mood, so he played along. Just before the last act, though, she was asleep and snoring softly with her head against the back of the couch.

Switching off the television, Spike crept over to his pseudo-kitchen and grabbed a partially-drunk bottle of whiskey. “Time for a bit of grown-up fun. Care for a nip?” He mostly just asked in an attempt at being polite, but was met with a sound of assent from Tara.

“May I?”

Balancing two lowball glasses in one hand and the neck of the bottle in the other, he sat down on the edge of the end table and handed her the glasses. “Rough day?”

“Not exactly. More just…long. I ha-haven’t been sleeping very well.”

“Bad dreams?” Touching the rim of his glass against hers and uttering a soft “Cheers, dove”, he took a long swallow. After all this time, the burn still made him grit his teeth with a grimace, and there was a kind of comfort in that that he appreciated.

Tara hesitated before giving a stiff nod. “I have a feeling that there’s something coming.”

continue on ao3

[alj4890]

And Then I Left You

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) in a “what if” version to the RCD/TRR fan fic And Then I Met You Series

@krsnlove​ @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @flyawayboo  @trappedinfanfiction @everythingmarvelsherlockspn  @sophxwithers @kate-mckenzie @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

Chapter 7 Seeking Warmth

The next few days in Lythikos seemed to drag by. Olivia, after a great deal of arguing, relented and offered to help Amanda and Thomas in not only keeping their relationship a secret, but in finding ways they could be together in private. The only hitch to the couple's plans was this suitor business.

Amanda had thought she wouldn't be under such scrutiny once Liam told her that the King and Queen were remaining at the palace so that they could prepare for the Regatta. She soon realized that she had attracted some unwanted attention from the one lady who missed nothing.

Madeleine.

The countess had begun to watch every move the ladies made, especially those that had become her biggest threats to her winning the crown.

The press had focused on Riley being an unknown delight. The people adored her already for her wit and obvious affection for Liam. Olivia had both the strength and intelligence that many thought were needed in their future queen. Her years of friendship with Liam had also caused several to place bets that she would end up the prince's choice.

Amanda, much to her own frustration, had somehow become a favorite. Her book along with it becoming a movie had brought her not only fame, but also a great deal of praise from the Royal family. The people of Cordonia had only known her as a quiet, steadfast duchess and friend to the crown prince. Now she had become one that the public wanted to know more about.

It was enough to irritate anyone, especially one who had no desire for the attention nor a real chance of ending up Liam's choice.

The first evening, Amanda had planned on sneaking downstairs for a moment alone with her director. Thinking she was secretly meeting with Liam, Madeleine intercepted her in the hallway.

Amanda was forced to give the excuse of going downstairs to the kitchen with Madeleine following along and giving her reasons why she herself should be Liam's choice.

Every secret rendezvous was interrupted by either Madeleine or someone else.

The parlor that the couple decided to meet in the next evening had Hana appearing to play the piano. The two had been forced to remain hidden behind a set of drapes throughout the entire performance.

The third night had Tariq bumping into Thomas and inviting him for a drink. Unable to think of a way out of it, he had been forced to wave Amanda back while he joined the fastidious noble for a glass of brandy and a long discussion of shoes.

It seemed hopeless.

Amanda and Thomas were back to longing glances and brushes past one another.

Or so they thought...

By the fifth day, Olivia reminded Amanda of something that only a handful of people knew about.

While Amanda was pulling her snow boots on for another long day of pretending to want Liam's attention, she was startled by the wall next to her bed opening up.

"You could have knocked." Amanda teased once over her surprise.

"Where's the fun in that?" Olivia smirked. "I thought you might like to use the hidden passageway to have your clandestine affair."

Amanda's expression brightened at that suggestion. She bounded over and squeezed Olivia in a brief hug.

"I completely forgot about this!"

"It has been over a decade since we trained in them."

"Played." Amanda corrected.

"How was our practicing to be Cordonian spies playing?" Olivia asked.

"I thought we were playing."

"This is why I should have kept up with your training. You never took it seriously."

"We were seven, Olivia." Amanda reminded her. "I was also pretending to have the ability to be able to find snow fairies in the woods near your home."

"I was too easy on you." Olivia grumbled. "I should have pushed you harder during our exercises."

She waved Amanda through the opening.

"I've marked the pathway from your room to Hunt's." She led her through the twisted labyrinth of hallways hidden behind unassuming walls, pointing out the arrows and such. "Just make certain to keep your bedrooms doors locked and be as quiet as you can walking through here."

They paused outside Thomas's hidden door.

"Well?" Olivia prodded. "Aren't you going to surprise him?"

"I think I better forewarn him before using it." Amanda whispered. "He could be changing clothes or--"

"What kind of affair are you having?" Olivia chuckled at the blush forming on Amanda's cheeks. "Maybe it is a good thing you never became a spy. You never could have hidden that blush."

Amanda smothered her laughter while turning back to her room. "True. I would have failed miserably."

Once back in Amanda's room, the two finished pulling their coats on and headed out to join the rest of the court.

******************

"Here." Drake offered his flask. "You look like you need this more than I do."

Thomas took it, silently toasting in thanks before taking a swallow. His attention remained on the ladies ice skating with some of the men from court while the whiskey burned down his throat.

Amanda was being forced to listen to Madeleine as they skated around the frozen pond. Her eyes met his each time she came near to where he was seated. He could see the worry in her eyes when she noticed the flask in his hand.

He knew he could not have all her time, but he should be able to speak to her without everyone suspecting something. They were collaborators for goodness’s sake! There should be nothing suspicious them walking off on their own or being left alone in a room together.

"No luck, huh?" Drake asked.

He shook his head. "Last night it was both Kiara and Tariq." He snorted softly. "I'm sure if we had tried to go somewhere else then Madeleine would have arrived with a few others in tow."

Drake scratched his chin as he tried to think of where the two could enjoy some time alone. "Can't you come up with something to do with movie or something? Something only Amanda can help with?"

"That's what I have been doing each time I pull her away for a private conversation. Most of the time she and I are stuck with you and Maxwell and Nadia." Thomas handed the flask back. "This suitors' business is more difficult to get around than I thought."

"You sound like you're ready to give up." Drake's eyes narrowed at how much that would hurt Amanda.

"I'm far from even thinking of giving up." Thomas snapped. "I am merely stalled."

Frustrated not only with their current situation but also at Drake thinking he wasn't even going to try, he took off for a walk along the duchy's grounds.

***************

Thomas had been gone no more than fifteen minutes when he heard the sound of someone rushing up from behind.

"Thomas! Wait!" Amanda called out.

He turned around in surprise.

"I thought you had to spend the day chasing Liam."

"I did." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "But the ladies heard me complain about it being too cold out."

"But you love the snow."

"Yes, but they don't know that." She slipped her arm within his and tugged him further along. "I think we have managed to get at least an hour alone before some of them escape the cold."

He placed his hand over hers, squeezing it in gratitude for her quick thinking.

"I also thought of a way we can get a few more hours alone each day. I don't suppose you are against taking a few dance lessons?"

"Dance lessons?" He lifted an eyebrow. "I know the basics of ballroom dancing."

"But not the Cordonian Waltz." She smiled up at him. "I've seen the music Olivia has planned for her ball. There will be multiple Cordonian Waltzes through the night."

"Is it so different from a regular waltz?"

"It is and you learning it will help you decide how you wish to film that particular waltz in The Earl's Undoing."

"If it gets me time alone with you, then I am all for it." He paused once they were in the woods.

Checking to make sure no one could see them, he guided her back against a large tree and kissed her. He could feel her smile form before she actively participated. She slipped her arms around his waist, pressing him even closer, as their kiss heated up.

"I don't know why the court has to come to this godforsaken patch of frozen wasteland year after year."

The couple froze when they heard voices close by.

"We wouldn't if Olivia didn't insist on it." Another suitor grumbled.

"She's keeping Liam all to herself." A third muttered. "Like he would ever pick her when there are so many better options. Even that American would be better choice."

The group laughed as they walked past the path into the woods.

"We should probably go inside." Amanda barely whispered. "There's a side door to the kitchen around the corner. Olivia's butler, Harris, will take our coats and sneak us through the servants’ hallways to an empty room."

Thomas reluctantly nodded. He took her hand and did as she said.

"When will we begin the dance lessons?"

"This evening." She decided to keep the hidden passageway a surprise for him. "After dinner, wait in your room for my signal to join me."

******************

The rest of the day, Thomas forced himself to work. While Amanda sipped hot chocolate and took part in talking to Liam, he found a quiet room with a desk and continued to outline his notes for each scene. He would occasionally find himself lost in thought as he watched snowflakes fall from the window. Most of his thoughts centered around a certain duchess while the others tried to think of ways to get her alone without any interruption.

As he worked, he wondered if he could demand she show him the different locations the scenes had taken place in. She had shown him the pictures, but to actually go and see if they would work on camera...

He got to his feet and decided that before he got his hopes up, he should probably ask the one who would know whether or not that would be a problem.

He found Liam trying to escape an overly eager suitor along Olivia's portrait gallery. Clearing his throat, he got the pair's attention.

The lady glared daggers at Thomas while Liam didn't bother to hide his relief.

"I apologize for the interruption," Thomas began, ignoring the lady's huff of irritation, "but I need to ask about permits for filming on location around Cordonia."

Liam twisted his arm out of the lady's firm grasp. "Yes, of course." He bowed to the fuming woman. "Excuse me, Lady Sandra."

Before she could argue, Liam walked off, already discussing the film with Thomas.

Once they were out of earshot, the prince whispered his thanks. "We were part of the group Olivia was leading through the older areas of her home, but Lady Sandra somehow pinned me between a painting of a former king and herself. She asked questions about whether or not I thought his reign had been successful." Liam shook his head in exasperation. "Once the group was gone, she then latched onto me."

"It must be frustrating not being able to choose who you get to spend time with." Thomas said. "I think the list of suitors would diminish quickly if left up to you."

Liam's lips turned up in a half smile. "It would, which might not be what is best for Cordonia."

"Wouldn't it be best for Cordonia if their future king was in a happy, loving relationship with his wife?" Thomas prodded.

Liam hesitated in answering in the negative. "That is something I had not considered as an argument for a suitor."

"Perhaps you should."

"Perhaps." Liam found an empty parlor and motioned for Thomas to precede him. He closed the door to give them privacy. "Now then, what did you need to talk about since Amanda already got every possible permit you would need months ago."

"I had a thought of how to spend a few days with Amanda without interruption." Thomas explained having her be his guide around the Cordonian countryside. "Would that cause problems for her? And you possibly with the press and your family?"

Liam sat down while considering his suggestion. "I can't see that it would as long as she was through with it by the time the court goes to Applewood. That would only be the time when my parents would take offense. You both could leave after Olivia's ball and have about a week or so to yourselves. You'd miss the Regatta and beach party, but Amanda has never enjoyed either of those."

Thomas's curiosity over that last part was greater in his elation at finally finding some time. "Do you know why she doesn't?"

Liam's eyebrows lifted. "Yes, of course. That particular dock that we hold the regatta was where her parents kept their sailboat."

"Amanda went sailing while in California with some friends of mine. She seemed to enjoy herself."

"She loves it." Liam added. "But she won't sail from that particular point or go out into that part of the ocean." His countenance turned sad. "Her parents died on their last sailing trip."

Thomas sat down in surprise. "She never told me how they died. I didn't want to make her explain."

Liam nodded. "An unexpected storm caught them. Before our coastguard could get out there in time, they had perished. Amanda's uncle, Lord Nicholas, had to identify their bodies." He cleared his throat. "Her parents were beloved by all of us. We were around twelve years old when they died and Amanda swore she wouldn't go there for any type of activity. She has kept true to that all these years." He once more focused on Thomas. "Therefore, you finding a way to keep her from having to relive the memory of their death and giving it for why she would miss the event is perfect."

Thomas felt even more determined to take her away from something that would hurt her.

"We'll tell her this evening during dinner." Liam decided. "That way the nosier ladies will know and spread the word for us."

"Thank you." Thomas cocked his head to the side as another thought struck. "The Cordonian Waltz? Is it a difficult dance?"

Liam chuckled. "Depends on whether or not you have the right partner."

"It does?"

"Let's just say that the wrong one makes it a most regrettable dance." Liam left him alone.

Thomas pondered his words before leaving to prepare for an evening hopefully ending with some time with Amanda.

*****************

"I would love to show you around Cordonia." Amanda replied when Liam and Thomas casually brought up the plan.

"Excellent." Liam winked at her. "I'll give your excuses for your absence at the next few events."

"Thank you." Thomas softly smiled at Amanda. "Her grace has piqued my curiosity with her descriptions."

"I suppose her novel has shown the world a tiny piece of Cordonia's impressive history." Madeleine added. "But if you truly want to see Cordonia's finest then you should visit to either my home or Lady Kiara's." She cast a pitying glance toward Amanda. "The dukes and duchesses of St Orella have sadly done nothing noteworthy during their rule."

Amanda's knuckles turned white as her fingers tightened around her glass.

"Nothing noteworthy?" Olivia quickly interjected. "They've only been one of the most loyal to both crown and country." Her smirk held an evil edge. "If I recall, I believe one of the Karlingtons tried to overthrow Queen Charlotte. That is your father's side, is it not?"

Madeleine glared daggers at Olivia. "My family for the most part has been extremely loyal to every monarchy they have served, unlike some Nevarkis members."

Olivia shrugged dismissively. "King Luther Nevarkis was doing what many during his time tried. He was expanding his kingdom."

"He tried to kill Queen Kenna." Madeleine reminded her.

"He had already killed other rulers." Olivia added. "He would have appeared weak if he hadn't at least tried to eliminate the last one."

"So, you excuse his behavior?" Madeleine exclaimed in surprise.

"I've read why he did what he did." Olivia explained. "I understand why he thought he had to while disagreeing with his methods." Her own eyes narrowed in anger. "The Nevarkis line that followed shows how loyal we are to the rightful rulers of Cordonia."

Madeleine sniffed dismissively. "Still, Mr. Hunt, you will be quite bored if you delve too much into St Orella's history. It is nothing but romantic gibberish followed by a few that married into the Royal family."

"And fought in every single war Cordonia went through." Amanda added in a bitter tone. "I don't recall seeing many of yours, Countess, being among the list of heroes."

Madeleine stiffened. "My people were better suited for their intelligence than brute strength on the battlefield."

"So brave of them to fight mentally behind a cushy desk." Olivia taunted.

"Amanda's family history is what interests me." Thomas interrupted before Madeleine could snap back. "The more I read about them, the more I want to discover even more." He cocked an eyebrow at the blonde. "Generation after generation of someone in an advisory capacity sounds dull."

Madeleine stuck her nose up in the air. "I wouldn't expect an American to understand the nuance of Cordonia's nobility."

"Yeah, we Americans have never been involved with something like that." Riley spoke up. She winked at Thomas. "It's a shame we have never dealt with a king or assisted any countries with their own problems."

Liam chuckled. "Well Lady Olivia, I knew once we journeyed here that conversations would never be dull, but I honestly did not expect us to focus on our nation's history so much."

"You should know by now, Liam, to expect the unexpected in Lythikos." Olivia raised her glass in a silent toast to him.

****************

Around eleven that night, Thomas paced the confines of his room while waiting on Amanda's signal. He expected her to call or text to meet her in the ballroom and was surprised that she had yet to do so. After the spirited dinner they had taken part in, he wondered if she was upset. Unable to easily speak to her afterwards, he had only been able to whisper his concern with her shaking her head while whispering she was fine.

A brisk knock at his door caused him to pause. When he opened it, he was even more surprised to see Olivia's butler holding a silver tray with a bottle of wine and two crystal goblets.

"Sir, her grace thought you might enjoy this particular vintage." Harris said. When he noticed the confusion on Thomas's face, he lowered his voice. "It is a favorite of Lady Amanda's."

"Thank you." Thomas took the tray from him. "Please express my gratitude to Lady Olivia for thinking of me."

Harris nodded in approval.

Thomas shut his door and locked it as he wondered how on earth, he would be able to share a bottle of wine with Amanda. He couldn't get more than a few minutes here and there with her alone. How much more difficult would it be sneaking around while carrying wine?

Setting the tray down, he sat down on the small sofa near the fireplace while he waited.

"Is that for us?"

He jumped from his seat and spun toward Amanda's voice. His eyes went to his locked door then back to her.

"How did you get in here?"

With a mischievous smile she walked over to a wall near his bed and twisted a decorative sconce to the left. A portion of the wall slid silently open, revealing the secret passageways hidden within Lythikos.

"Olivia reminded me of these today and even marked the route from my room to yours." She explained. "Now we can spend our evenings together without anyone disturbing us."

He stepped out and marveled at the rough stone hallways. "This is incredible."

"A lot of the older manors have hidden passageways." She explained.

Thomas cocked an eyebrow. "Does yours?"

Her smile grew flirty. "Maybe."

He chuckled and followed her back into his room. Once the wall closed, he took her in his arms.

Thomas simply enjoyed a moment of holding her without worry that someone would catch them. He leaned down and captured her lips in a slow, deep kiss.

"What was that for?" She asked.

"For finding a way for us to be together without interruption." He murmured, kissing her again.

"Remind me to always find a way for us to be alone." Her laughter was muffled when he growled against her neck.

He walked her back to the couch he had been sitting on, collapsing on it with her in his arms.

Her smile caught his attention. "What are you thinking?"

"This was one of my daydreams." Her eyes met his. "You and I in front of a crackling fire. Snow falling outside." She pressed a kiss to his neck. "The two of us finding ways to keep warm."

His fingers threaded in her hair as he met her lips. "I would love to hear more about these daydreams."

She laughed softly. "Then I will make certain to share them each time we are together."

She eased away. "First though, we must teach you the Cordonian Waltz."

Amanda thought he looked adorably befuddled sprawled on the couch. His hair was missed and the slight frown at her leaving his arms made her want to return to his embrace.

"I thought the dance lesson was a ruse to be able to spend time together."

"I want to dance with you at the ball." She explained. A slight blush colored her cheeks. "I always wanted to with a man that I was in love with and who just so happened to be in love with me too."

His expression softened with understanding. He ran his fingers through his hair as he stood up. "Then let's begin."

Thomas felt his heartbeat quicken at the delight on her face when she took his hands. He tried to focus on her instruction, but he kept getting distracted by having her so close.

"Thomas!" She stumbled over his feet when he kissed her. She failed in trying to appear stern. "Pay attention, please."

He kissed along her neck, up to her ear. "I am paying attention."

"To the dance steps." She bit down on her lip, tilting her head so he could continue his path back down her neck.

He lifted his head with a sigh. "If you insist."

She mentally shook her head to clear it. With a few tries, they were actually waltzing around the room. When he twirled her into his arms, their eyes met.

"I now see why Reginald and Arthur hated watching the other dance this with Elizabeth." He brushed his lips to Amanda's. "This dance is nothing but temptation."

"Now you know why it was such a pivotal moment in their relationship." She mumbled.

"I don't think I could comfortably watch you dance this with anyone." He admitted.

"I know I wouldn't be able to stand you dancing with another either."

Thomas kept her in his arms instead of twirling her back into the next position. Their swaying slowly stilled.

"Amanda," he began only to be cut off by her kiss.

She looked up at him. "I think we've practiced enough, don't you?"

His lips curved. "Yes, I do."

*****************

The days leading up to the ball went easier than either anticipated. Being able to spend their evenings together helped them not be on edge in searching for a stolen moment or two. They both were noticeably more pleasant than they had been when they first arrived at Lythikos.

Perhaps they seemed a little too happy.

"You might want to bring it down a notch or two." Drake told Thomas as they walked downstairs to Olivia's ballroom. "People have been talking about the change in both you and Amanda."

"I didn't realize I was doing anything different." Thomas tried to stop thinking of going to Amanda's room earlier for one last waltz practice.

He had been struck speechless with how she looked in her royal blue ballgown. The one bare shoulder tempted him as he twirled her in his arms. And just like every practice they had, it was cut short with a kiss.

"These ladies vying for Liam notice everything." Drake muttered when he caught sight of a few entering the ballroom. "I wouldn't put it past some go them for exploiting anything to make their competition look bad."

Thomas tried to smooth his features into a less pleased one. It was difficult to maintain when his gaze immediately found Amanda talking to a Maxwell, Nadia, Riley, and Hana.

He then allowed his artistic eye to take in the beauty of Olivia's ballroom. A wall of windows revealed the snowy landscape with majestic mountains in the distance. Snowflakes glistened in the soft candlelight that adorned each table. Sparkling crystal chandeliers twinkled with their own low light, causing flickers on the dance floor.

Drake whistled. "Olivia went all out for this."

Thomas glanced at him when he heard a hint of irritation in his tone. "Does she not normally do this?"

"She does. Just not this," Drake gestured around the room.

"Romantic?" Thomas offered.

"Yeah." Drake grimaced. "I'm going to find my seat."

Thomas watched him walk off. He wondered if there was more to Drake's response to Olivia's efforts.

"Welcome Mr. Hunt."

He turned to find his hostess. "Your grace."

Olivia nodded in approval. "I hope you have enjoyed your stay here."

"I have." His frown eased. "And I know I have you to thank for it."

Her proud smirk flashed. "You're welcome." She cocked her head to the table at the front of the ballroom. "I decided to seat you at my table, even if you are a commoner."

He snorted and followed her over. "Any particular reason?"

Her gaze cut to where Amanda was. "A few actually." She waved toward his chair. "Make yourself comfortable. I must wait on Liam to join us."

Thomas pulled his chair out and continued his study of the room and its occupants. His mind drifted to the ballroom scene he would be filming soon. Studying the groupings of people, he began to think which actors he wanted where while considering camera angles.

"I see someone is lost in his work again." Amanda teased.

He quickly got to his feet. "And how do you know that?"

"I did work with you for months." She reminded him before lowering her voice. "And I might have stared at you during some of those long nights with the screenplay."

He chuckled at that. "Then I'm lucky you didn't catch me doing the same."

Her eyes dropped while her smile grew.

"Where did Olivia seat you?" He asked.

"Here." She pointed at the chair across from him.

He followed her around the table and held her chair out for her.

Leaning down as if to whisper in her ear, he brushed a soft kiss against her cheek. "I was hoping you wouldn't be too far away."

He straightened before she could respond or before anyone noticed his action.

Olivia soon returned with Liam, Maxwell, and Nadia. Another noble joined them that Thomas was introduced to.

"Rashad is not only the heir to Duchy Domvallier but he is also a partner in Sloan Industries." Amanda explained of the handsome young Lord. Her smile was warm as she continued. "His business expertise is something we have all been grateful for."

Rashad grinned at that before engaging Thomas in a conversation about producing a movie. "William and I were approached not too long ago about investing in a film, but we were leery of jumping into something we don't know much about."

Amanda left them to their discussion and focused on her other friends. Maxwell and Nadia were talking about the regatta coming up while Olivia and Liam added their own opinions.

Not wanting to participate in anything to do with that particular event, she instead picked at her salad while gazing out at the rest of the ballroom. She found Drake at the very back with Riley and Hana. The three seemed to be a little irritated as they tried to get a waiter's attention.

Her lips curved in a rueful grin as she thought of why Olivia had stuck him in the back. It seemed he would forever be paying for his childhood torment to the redhead for a long time. She was curious though why Olivia had placed Riley and Hana back there. What could they have possibly done to incur her wrath?

Course after course was enjoyed while the conversations flowed around her.

When dessert was being brought around, Olivia signaled the musicians to begin.

Liam offered his hand to her and the two went to the dance floor.

"Ready to dance, babe?" Maxwell asked Nadia.

"Yes, I mean NO! You need to get Riley out there first." She explained. With a quick kiss, she sent him after their friend.

Thomas met Amanda's eyes. He set his napkin on the table and came around to her side to the table.

"May I have this dance?"

His hand rested on her bare shoulder. His thumb brushed against her skin as he waited on her answer.

"I'd love to." She managed to say.

He helped her pull her chair back and placed her hand in the bend of his arm.

Rashad asked Nadia and followed the couple to the floor.

In whirl of color from the ladies' ballgowns, the dance began.

While the first few steps began, Liam chuckled when he saw Drake. "I see you put him in the back again."

Olivia's smirk held an edge. "It's his own fault. He reminded me of the one time I lost to him in a snowball fight."

"And Lady Riley and Lady Hana?" Liam prodded.

"That was not meant as a slight." Olivia explained. "You know how prickly everyone gets if their rank is not recognized by their seating arrangement." She grimaced when she saw Riley with Maxwell. "Neither of them has a title."

Liam nodded in understanding. "We do associate with snobs."

"That and how would it look if I put two more competitors at our table? At least Amanda's rank and my own friendship with her was understood by all why she was placed there. Maxwell acting in Bertrand's stead and Rashad about to be the new Duke of Domvallier also explained my seating arrangement."

"And Thomas?" Liam asked.

"You did personally invite him to take part in everything." She reminded him. "How could I not give him every courtesy?" A softer smile than she usually had formed. "Plus, he has impressed me with his unfailing pursuit of Amanda."

He nodded over to where the two danced. "He has impressed me too."

Olivia studied them. Her brow furrowed when she noticed that though the two were not doing anything improper, but there was a very definite spark between them that drew attention.

And there were several ladies noticing, especially when Amanda was twirled within his arms.

Whispers began to be hissed at the sexual tension between the pair.

"We have to do something." Olivia said.

"What can we do?" Liam asked.

Knowing of only one thing that would draw every ladies' eye, Olivia closed the distance between her and Liam and kissed him.

She felt his jolt of surprise and hoped that what they were doing would cause everyone to ignore Amanda.

If the gasps of outrage and shock were any indication, then her sudden plan had worked.

Liam cleared his throat when she broke away. "We should go somewhere and talk." He lowered his voice so no one near could hear his next sentence. "And that was a brilliant way to divert their attention."

She fought a proud grin as they stepped out of the ballroom to pretend to talk over their kiss.

******************

The next morning, Thomas and Amanda departed from Olivia's before most of the court guests awakened. Those closest to them stood outside to see them off.

"Enjoy yourselves." Liam shook Thomas's hand. "Just make certain you're back at Applewood in time." He hugged Amanda goodbye.

"We will." She replied.

Olivia hugged her next. "Keep your eye out for the press. I don't think they will follow you with the regatta and all coming up but you never know."

"We'll make certain they don't capture any image that could damage Amanda's reputation." Thomas promised.

Maxwell and Nadia squeezed them both in a group hug. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do."

Nadia giggled. "That leaves open a lot of options."

Drake rolled his eyes as he said his goodbyes. "Leave before they go into detail."

Thomas slipped his arm around Amanda as they walked over to the waiting car. He opened the driver's side for her before settling into the passenger seat. Her hand found his as she pulled out of the drive.

"Well Mr. Hunt, it looks like you are stuck with only me for company these next ten days."

He lifted her hand to his lips. "If that's the case then I am a very lucky man."

As their car disappeared around a bend, there was one person watching the departure from her window. Madeleine's brow was furrowed in thought. The more she had observed Thomas and Amanda, the more confused she was to the true nature of their relationship. She would have to pay more attention next time in case Amanda was doing anything that could possibly harm Liam’s choices for Cordonia’s next queen..

[onecanonlife]

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away,  so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal.  If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 5,895

Chapter Warnings: swearing, violence, blood, choking, attempted murder, manipulation, and references to past abuse

Chapter Summary: Wilbur and Tommy speak to Dream. It doesn’t go fantastically (though Wilbur does beat him up, so there’s that).

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Six: hide your soul out of his reach (ii)

Most people never think to guess that he is Technoblade’s brother.

There is a reason for that, of course; they are both adopted, for one thing, and they look nothing alike, which is why he used to like to say that they were twins. It was always funny, to watch Techno roll his eyes and get all exasperated and try once again to explain to him that that’s not how twins work, Wilbur, and it would always make him feel warm inside, because no matter his irritation, Techno never quite got around to saying that they’re not.

But whether by blood or no, he is Technoblade’s brother, and he has something of the Blade in him, something of his simmering rage, something of his inclination toward violence, the urge for blood howling in his soul, screaming at him to protect what is his.

And so.

“Hi, Tommy,” Dream says. “It’s good to see you,” and Wilbur is moving without having given himself permission to do so, a wordless snarl curling in the back of his throat. For a moment, he forgets where he is, forgets what he’s here for, forgets who he has at his side. His attention is focused on one thing and one thing only, and he launches himself forward, and the sudden sting in his knuckles as they impact porcelain is nothing in the face of the grunt that Dream lets out, surprised and pained. A crack rings through the room, and he withdraws his hand to see a new break in Dream’s mask, a new fracture, and nothing is so satisfying as the knowledge that he put it there.

Dream is staggering back, seeking to regain his balance. Wilbur regards him for a moment, his head strangely clear, and then decides not to let him.

They go down in a heap, Dream’s head bouncing off the hard obsidian floor with a gratifying thunk. Wilbur lands squarely on top of him, and his fist flies once, twice, three times. Into his mask, over and over, and the cracks widen, and the mask is breaking, and he wants to see it shattered, wants to see it come to pieces—

There is someone saying something, someone shouting. He’s not paying attention. They can wait.

Because then, Dream starts to laugh.

And the thing about it is, it doesn’t sound like what Wilbur knows his laugh is, that wheezing tea kettle noise that everyone always made fun of him for.

(gentle teasing, back in the old days, back when they were all friends, when this server was a safe place, a good community, back before it all went wrong, and perhaps he should wonder what happened to make that Dream into the monster that he is now, but he hurt Tommy and he doesn’t care)

Instead, it’s quiet and low and steady, and there is a smugness to it, a superiority even under the breathlessness, as if this is where he wants to be, as if everything is going according to plan, some plan of his, going right even though Wilbur is sitting on his chest and doing his level best to beat his face in, and—

How dare he have the nerve

(how dare he have the nerve)

to laugh

(to laugh when he’s just destroyed everything around him)

after all that he’s done

(and leveled the very thing that he fought so hard to reclaim but if he cannot have it nobody can and he laughs for the joy of it, the terrible, terrible joy)

to everyone, to the server, to Tommy?

He made a list, when he woke up. He made a list. And he’s accomplished the first goal. He’s found Tommy. And his mind is separating, splitting in half, and one half has control of his body and one is watching from the outside, and the one with his body takes his hands and puts them to Dream’s throat. He can feel his pulse, rabbit-quick. His skin is warm to the touch.

He presses down, and Dream stops laughing.

The half of him that is watching begins to scream with a voice that sounds like his father’s. Begins to shout, asks him,

(can you kill a man in cold blood?)

and the answer is

(yes)

because he knows what monsters are, knows that he has one pinned beneath him, and he knows that he is one too, and only a monster can kill another monster. He will suffocate the life from him, and the world will be better for it. He will suffocate the life from him, and Tommy will be safe.

It’s one of the easiest decisions he’s ever made.

But someone is still shouting, shouting words that enter one ear and rattle around in his skull and fade away without making any kind of sense, and he ignores them. Except then, he can’t, because there are hands on his shoulders, hands trying to pull him back and away, and he resists them, doubles down, places more pressure on his stranglehold, because he wants Dream gone and he wants Dream dead and he’s not going to stop until he’s paid in full—

“—bur, please!”

But Tommy sounds scared.

Like a rubber band released, he comes back together again. His grip goes slack. He allows Tommy to pull him off.

“You can’t—” Tommy is saying, is babbling, and he has tears in his eyes, and it doesn’t make sense for him to be crying, because Dream was the one who hurt him, so he should want Dream gone, right? “Wil, you can’t, you can’t kill him, we need him, we need to talk to him, and he doesn’t, he doesn’t deserve to die, Wil, he doesn’t, so you can’t—”

“Doesn’t he?” he asks, and is surprised by the hollowness of his own voice.

Tommy falls completely silent. For a long minute, the only sound in the cell is Dream wheezing, coughing, struggling for air.

“I don’t know,” Tommy says, and he sounds so miserable that Wilbur regrets asking the question. “Maybe. I mean, I think about stabbing him every time I see him. But I—I don’t want him dead, alright? He’s in prison, and he can’t hurt anyone anymore. So I don’t want him to die.”

He hurt you, Wilbur doesn’t say. He’s still hurting you.

Because Tommy is pale and trembling, his hands shaking where they’re still gripping Wilbur’s shoulders. Because there is a waver in his voice that is wrong, that doesn’t belong, that Wilbur has heard only a handful of times before. Because sometimes, Wilbur will look at him, and his eyes will be far too old, older than any sixteen-year-old’s should be, and part of that is on him, he knows, he knows, but Dream is responsible for so much of the rest.

“I don’t want him to die,” Tommy repeats, and Wilbur realizes that he’s been silent for too long, that Tommy must have taken it as disagreement. “And I don’t want you to kill him, okay? Not like—not like this.”

He’s not entirely sure what that’s supposed to mean.

He opens his mouth, and no sound comes out. So he clears his throat and tries again, and he’s not sure why he’s so hoarse, since he wasn’t the one being strangled, but his voice is a croak.

“Fine,” he says. “But you can’t—if he so much as looks at you wrong, I’m not about to fucking hold back. You get that, right? I’m not letting him—I wasn’t there when it counted. So I’m gonna make it count now. I’m doing my damnedest to make it count now. So if he does anything, I’m not letting it go. I’m not letting him do shit.”

Tommy’s hands tighten. For a second, Wilbur thinks he sees tears in his eyes, but then he blinks, and they’re gone, so perhaps it was his imagination. He has to think it was his imagination, because otherwise he’s going to lose his mind. Because Tommy doesn’t cry. Almost never cries. And if he cries now, it’s either because Wilbur’s fucked up massively, which is bad, or it’s because Wilbur has done something right but it’s overwhelming him because he’s not used to things going right, which would be worse. So much worse.

“Okay,” Tommy says. “Yeah. I—thanks, Wilbur.”

“Not to interrupt,” Schlatt says, and Wilbur flinches with his entire body. He’d forgotten that Schlatt was here, and now Tommy’s looking at him in confusion, and now is not the time for this. Now is definitely not the time for this. Schlatt is over by the entrance, he thinks, but he doesn’t dare turn to look. That’s too obvious. “Because this is very touching and I’m real happy for you, but he’s up again.”

He draws in a breath. And looks past Tommy. Dream is on his feet.

He exhales.

“I won’t kill you,” he says, and his voice is far cooler, far steadier than he feels, “because Tommy doesn’t want me to. That’s it. That’s what’s keeping you alive right now.” And he stands, and Tommy stands with him, shifting to be at his side rather than in front of him.

Dream inclines his head. “I get it,” he says, and Wilbur feels a vicious spark of delight at how terrible he sounds. “Thank you, Tommy.”

“Oh, shut up,” Tommy snaps. “I’m not doing it for your sake. You great green bastard.”

“It’s been pretty boring since the last time you visited,” Dream continues, as if he hadn’t spoken, and if Wilbur couldn’t hear the evidence in his voice, he would assume that the last few minutes hadn’t happened, either. Since when was Dream this unflappable? That’s not the Dream that he remembers.

(he remembers more than one Dream. he remembers the Dream who invited them to his server, who offered them a home and friends, who played war games with Tommy and Tubbo but was always so very gentle with them, who was considerate and funny and someone Wilbur was glad to call a friend. he remembers the Dream who fought against the independence of L’Manberg, cunning and bitter and angry and loud about it. he remembers the Dream who sided with Pogtopia, who always sounded as though he was smiling, laughing at all of them, like they were all a great joke whose punchline had yet to be told. he remembers the Dream who gave him the TNT, who told him to blow them all sky high, and the way his blood sang in anticipation in return and Dream knew, then, he knew what Wilbur was planning, he could tell by that damn smile)

(Ghostbur remembers the Dream of Tommy’s exile. but Ghostbur didn’t know any better than to like him, and he can’t trust memories that are colored by that)

“Tough shit,” Tommy says, more confident now, and if he thinks he has the lead on this, Wilbur’s content to let him take it. “We’ve got questions and you’re going to answer them.”

“What makes you think I have answers?” Dream asks, and—

Is he always this purposefully obtuse?

He glances at Tommy’s face, takes in the frustration written there, the resignation. Apparently so.

“If you don’t think you can help us, then we’ll just leave,” Tommy says, and it’s an odd statement, but apparently, Tommy knows what he’s doing, because Dream takes a step forward. Just one, though, and Wilbur would like to think that he knows better than to get any closer.

“I can help,” he says. “I’m glad you came to me. What’s the question?”

Silence falls for a moment. Tommy’s eyebrows go up, and Wilbur chances a glance back at Schlatt. He’s still hovering near the entrance, by the lava, and its glow permeates through his figure, a bit, rendering him translucent. His eyes are narrow, fixed on Dream.

At least he’s taking it seriously.

“Right,” Tommy says. “You’re going to make me spell it out, then. You said you could bring back Wilbur. That’s pretty much the whole reason why we left you with your third life. But, and I don’t know if you noticed this, but here he is, see? So how the fuck did you do something from in here, or if it wasn’t you, who the hell was it?”

“I did notice, actually,” Dream says, more than a bit wryly. “Hi, Wilbur, by the way. Nice to see you again.”

“I think that you should drown yourself in your sink,” Wilbur replies with an easy smile.

“So, that’s the question?” Dream says, ignoring him once again. “You want to know how I did it?”

“And why,” Tommy puts in. “Why would be good to know too, since I didn’t ask you to. You know.”

“I do know,” Dream agrees. “I have to say, I was kind of surprised at that. I thought you wanted your brother back?”

Tommy sputters. “Wha—of course I do! Did,” he tacks on, with a sidelong glance at Wilbur. “Uh, ‘cause I don’t have to anymore, because he’s here. Look, could we stay on track?”

“Sure, sure,” Dream says. “I mean, I’m not sure exactly how much I can tell you. Resurrection's a tricky business, you know. Lots of moving parts. And you get it if I don’t want to give away all my secrets. Do you want anything to eat? I can’t give you much in the way of variety, but I thought I’d offer.”

There’s something about this that Wilbur doesn’t like.

“No, we don’t want your fucking—your fucking raw potatoes,” Tommy says. “That’s disgusting, and you are a sad, pathetic man because that’s all you have to eat. Wilbur, isn’t he a sad, pathetic man?”

He nods absently. He should be chiming in. He shouldn’t be making Tommy do all the work, shouldn’t be making Tommy confront Dream himself. But there is something creeping over his mind, a nameless dread, stealing his words. And under that, a realization, one that makes no sense at all but that he is increasingly certain is right.

“You’re saying that like I have a choice,” Dream protests, sounding so mild, so even-keel, and it’s wrong, there’s something wrong with this picture. “Potatoes is all I’m given. Maybe if you talked to Sam and got him to give me something else, but unless you do that, it’s potatoes all the way.”

“I’m not getting you things,” Tommy says. “We’re not friends. You need to stop talking like we’re friends. We’re not friends, I don’t like you, I don’t like who I am around you, and I’m not talking to Sam about your fucking potatoes, Jesus Christ.”

“I mean, okay, but you can’t complain about the food when I try to give you some—”

They keep bickering. Wilbur’s only paying half of his attention to the conversation, only enough to make sure Dream doesn’t try to pull anything too terrible. The rest of him is frantically working, thinking, trying to puzzle out why this is pinging as so very off.

“I’m a good businessman, Wilbur,” Schlatt mutters, and Wilbur jumps, because he is right by his ear, the fucking stealthy ghost bastard. “I know stall tactics when I see them.”

“He’s stalling?” he asks, and only realizes his mistake when both Tommy and Dream look at him. But Schlatt is right; Dream is stalling, has been going out of his way to change the subject and goad Tommy into an argument, and that means— “You’re stalling. You’ve got no fucking clue what’s going on, do you?”

Dream laughs. “Oh, come on now,” he starts, but Wilbur’s got his number now, and he’s not going to allow him space to breathe or to spin a lie.

“No,” he presses, “none of that. No potatoes, no fucking with Tommy’s head, no games. I’m not playing games. You would’ve been so quick to gloat, if you had been the one to do this. So quick to hold it over our heads. And even if you hadn’t, but you knew who did, you would’ve dangled that information in front of us like a, a fucking carrot on a stick. Instead you’re rambling about your food and trying to pick a fight. You didn’t know I was alive until I stepped foot in this cell, did you?”

Dream is silent. His mouth is thin. There is a stream of blood slowly trickling out from under his mask.

“Holy shit,” Tommy says. “Holy shit. You bastard.”

“Well then,” Wilbur says, “I think we’re done here. Tommy, do you think we’re done here?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, shaking his head. “Yeah, I think we are.”

He turns to call out to Sam, to tell him that they’re ready to leave, but there are footsteps, and he wheels around again to see that Dream has moved closer, far too close for his liking and far too close to Tommy.

(there is something)

“Okay, maybe I don’t know why Wilbur’s back,” he says, “but don’t you think that’s concerning? It could’ve been anything, with any goals. I could help you figure it out.”

Tommy winces, and Wilbur once again feels the urge to drive his fist into Dream’s face, to put his hands around his neck and squeeze. He refrains, if only because of the look that it put on Tommy’s face the last time, the fear it put in his voice.

(there is something very wrong)

“We don’t need your help,” Wilbur jumps in before Tommy can answer.

“Right, yeah, we don’t—Sam! Sam, we’re ready to go!” Tommy calls.

“You say that now,” Dream says scornfully. For a second, Wilbur fears that he’s going to try to come forward more, to make an attempt to get out when Sam comes for them. But instead, he stands where he is, crossing his arms. “I know things about this server that no one else does. You need me.”

“We need you like we need a heart attack,” Tommy snaps. Beside him, Schlatt mutters something inaudible.

“Maybe you do,” Dream says, and then, inexplicably, his tone lightens. “I hope you visit again. I like seeing you. And this is the first time I’ve had so many visitors at once, so this was fun. We should do it another time.”

“I think that you should shut up and stop talking now,” Wilbur says, eyeing the lava as it continues to flow over the entrance. Is it taking too long? How many seconds has it been? Sam is there, isn’t he?

“Well, you three are always welcome to come back,” Dream says. “I’ll be here. Unless I’m not.”

Wilbur’s blood runs cold.

(can you see it?)

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tommy demands. “You’ve got nowhere else to go. You’re going to be staying in here for the rest of your sorry fucking existence, and I’ll come back here to tell you all about all the fun things you’re missing out on because you decided to be a fucking dickhead toward all of the people that used to care about. How’s that, then?”

“As long as you visit,” Dream says mildly. He’s smiling. There is blood on his lips.

“He’s looking at me,” Schlatt whispers. “He’s looking at me, Wilbur, oh god oh fuck he is looking right at me, how the fuck is he—”

Dream tilts his head. Schlatt cuts off, making a choked sound.

“I’m still the admin of this server,” Dream says. “Putting me in a box doesn’t change that. So if you’ve got more questions, I’m happy to answer them whenever.” His smile broadens. “Not just about this, too. If the Egg ever starts being a problem, feel free to come to me. Not like I’ve got anything else to do.”

Finally, finally, the lava curtain drops. Sam is standing on the other side, entirely too far away, and the platform is approaching, entirely too slowly. Wilbur feels locked in place, mind ringing out with three, three, three. He shouldn’t know that. He should have no way to know that, admin or not. He shouldn’t—so how does he—?

(look closer look closer do you see it do you see it do you see there’s something wrong with)

“The Egg?” Tommy asks, and the platform is here. Tommy hesitates, clearly torn between staying and following this new line of questioning, and going. But then, he shakes his head vigorously. “No. No, we’re not doing this. Goodbye, Dream.” He strides out onto the platform.

Wilbur lingers a moment. Schlatt has disappeared.

Dream is staring at him. He can’t see his eyes, but he knows, deep in his soul, that they are boring into his.

So he turns on his heel and joins Tommy on the platform. It begins to move, and he can’t help the glance back over his shoulder. Dream is still there. Unmoving. And if he does make a motion, he doesn’t do it until they are across, until the lava has dropped back down, masking him from sight.

..........

The pressure in his chest lifts as they step outside. He sucks in a deep breath, relishing the fresh air in his lungs, air that is bright and clean and smells of grass rather than hard stone and the bitter heat of lava. The sun is bright in the sky, and he has to blink a few times to readjust to the light.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted,” Sam says.

“He’s a dickhead,” Tommy says, oddly quiet. “Didn’t really expect much.”

“Well, I’ll let you know if he says anything to me,” Sam says, and then winces. “Anything relevant, anyway. He talks a lot.”

Tommy snorts, looking away. “Tell me about it,” he says, and his demeanor is definitely strange, subdued. He seems better, less fidgety than when they were inside, but still not at ease. “Or don’t, actually. I don’t want to hear about what that sick, sick man tells you.”

“Probably for the best,” Sam agrees, and then turns to him. “It was nice seeing you, Wilbur. Welcome back to life, I guess.”

There are a multitude of ways he could respond to that. Thank you would be easiest, would be what’s expected. Part of him wants to answer with something snarky, something sarcastic, something that reveals just how much he appreciates being here, but he won’t do that, not with Tommy standing right there. He’s trying to be positive. Trying to be better, trying to at least pretend to be happy. For him. He needs to keep to that, especially now, after whatever the fuck that was in there. So, thank you it is, then, and he opens his mouth to say it, except what actually comes out is, “He can’t get out of there, can he?”

Sam is silent for a long moment. His face does something that Wilbur can’t quite interpret, not with the mask covering half of it, but his eyes go a little wider, his brows a little more furrowed. It’s almost like understanding, or perhaps pity, and Wilbur doesn’t like either option. He doesn’t want to be understood, not really, doesn’t want people to think they understand him before he expressly allows them to, and he has no use for pity.

(villains are not meant for pity, and he still has Dream’s blood on his knuckles)

“No,” Sam says. “As long as I live, he will never set foot outside this prison.”

He says it with such conviction that Wilbur has to believe him. But somehow, it doesn’t set him much at ease. He can’t stop thinking about it, what Dream said, what he implied that he saw, the way he stared, motionless and intent and predatory, in a way, even though he was weaponless and armorless and subsisting off of raw potatoes. He should hold no power, be no threat, and yet, Wilbur can’t make himself relax.

“Alright. Thank you, Sam,” he says. Sam nods.

“Of course,” he says. And then, he’s stepping away, heading back into those dark walls, to that swirling portal that opens for none but who the warden wishes. And then, he is gone.

“Right then,” Tommy says, after a beat of silence. “Home?”

“Yeah,” he says, and feels exhaustion settle in, that constant companion.

So they do. They go home. They run into no one on the way, once again, and Tommy notices his confusion about it this time and tells him that no one truly lives in the area anymore, not since L’Manberg’s third and final destruction, and Tommy says it in such an offhand way that he doesn’t have a good response to it. Doesn’t have a good response to the way he seems to accept its loss, as if it was inevitable, only natural that everyone should have up and left the area, and it’s true that Wilbur wanted the nation gone but he never wanted Tommy to suffer for it, not really.

(though he didn’t care who suffered in the end, in that room covered in buttons, his anthem, that glorious song scraped into the walls, the music crescendoing with the explosion and then the ringing, blissful silence)

(no, he didn’t care who suffered, by the end)

He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say much, not until they’re back at Tommy’s house, the hole he dug out in the side of the hill and has made his own. He doesn’t know what to say, all of his old charisma failing him, so he watches Tommy for a little while as he knocks about his chests and goes to harvest a few carrots and rants about things that have been happening on the server lately, little things, minor things, things that conspicuously don’t involve Dream at all.

“Tommy,” he finally manages, “are you alright?”

Tommy stops where he is. “Course I am,” he says. “Wilbur, I’m a very big man, you know. It’s going to take more than one green bastard to unsettle TommyInnit.”

“It’s alright if he unsettles you,” he says. “Prime knows he unsettled the hell out of me.”

Tommy stares at him, and then looks away and into the chest he’s got open.

“Yeah,” he says, quieter this time, “I know.”

Wilbur waits.

“It’s just that—” Tommy says, “It’s just that I hate him, so much, and I hate what he does to me. He gets in my head so easily, even when I know to expect it. He’s so good at fucking with me, and I can’t stop him. And I tell myself, each time I go, that this’ll be the last time, this’ll be the time I put it all behind me, but then it’s a couple of weeks later and I go back again, because I think part of me misses him. How fucked up is that? I know exactly what he is, and part of me still wants to think he’s my friend.”

He says it all vehemently, but so very softly, like he’s trying not to hear it himself.

“It is fucked up,” he agrees, matching Tommy’s tone. “But that’s not your fault. It’s his.” He hesitates. “I’m sorry I made you go with me. I shouldn’t have.”

Tommy wheels on him, eyes suddenly blazing, and he slams the chest lid closed.

“You didn’t make me do shit,” he snaps. “Nobody makes me do shit. I do what I want. And I wouldn’t have felt any better if I knew that you were in there with him alone. Think that would’ve been worse, actually, so shut the fuck up about it.”

“I—” he starts, and then stops. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He needs to be better about this. Needs to be better about remembering that Tommy is more than capable of making his own decisions. He is a child still, and ought to be protected, but he doesn’t need coddling, doesn’t need babying. There is a fine line between those things, and it is a difficult one to walk.

“Of course I’m right,” Tommy says. “I’m always incredibly correct. You should stop apologizing so much, though, it’s weird. Or wait, actually, do it some more, tell me all about how I am very right and you, Wilbur Soot, are very wrong and dumb.”

It’s an obvious ploy to lighten the mood. He can’t bring himself to go along with it.

“Why did you stop me?” he asks. “Actually, though. Not because he didn’t deserve it or some shit. That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Tommy scowls, his shoulders tensing.

“And what if I do?” he says. “Maybe he does deserve it. Doesn’t mean it should happen. I told you, I want to stab him really bad, but that doesn’t mean I do it. It wouldn’t be fair. Or very satisfying.” He crosses his arms, and for a moment, the image of him in the present is juxtaposed over a younger Tommy, in the exact same pose, arguing with Techno or Phil or him over some stupid, childish thing. Wilbur blinks, and the image is gone. “Besides, we did need him. To talk, that is, even if he turned out to be fucking useless.”

Alright, he can believe that.

(but he sounded so very scared, and)

“Did I scare you?” he blurts out. He regrets the words instantly, but he can’t take them back. “With what I did?”

He’s expecting Tommy to answer with a resounding denial, no matter what the truth actually is. He’s not expecting him to flinch.

(they are in that dark ravine and Tommy is conspiring with traitors and he’s screaming at him, half angry and half desperate to make him understand, to keep him on his side, to get him to see that they have each other and no one else, that no one else can be trusted, he’s screaming and he takes another step forward and he’s not expecting him to flinch)

“You didn’t see the look on your face,” Tommy says. “It reminded me—”

He cuts off, but Wilbur is capable of reading between the lines.

“I’m sorry,” he says, somewhat helplessly.

“You are better, right?” Tommy says. “I mean, really, you don’t—you don’t feel like you did back then, right?”

He’s trying to keep it casual, like it’s not a big deal, like he’s not desperately searching for the answer as to whether or not Wilbur is still insane.

Wilbur’s heart is doing something strange. Something that hurts. Or perhaps that’s just guilt.

“I am,” he says, “I am, I swear. I just—I saw him, and I couldn’t hold back. I know that how I was—how I was then, I don’t understand how you don’t hate me for it, but I look back, and I know now. I do. I’m sor—”

“I don’t need you to apologize again,” Tommy cuts him off. “I—I am actually very fucking sick of apologies, I’ll have you know. But I never hated you, Wilbur. I was really angry, after you—after you went and did that, but I didn’t hate you, and then I was sad, and I just wanted you back. The real you. And I was upset and angry because I knew I could never have that. Except I do now, right?”

“You do,” Wilbur says, because there is no other way he could possibly respond to that. “I swear, you do.” And he opens his arms, and after a second of hesitation, Tommy comes over and sits on the bed next to him, and slumps into his embrace, and Wilbur holds him against his chest because it’s all he can do.

(all he can do to hold him like this and hide from him that the darkness is not gone, that there is something in him that still calls for the destruction of everything and everyone for no reason other than why not, something in him that wants to pour oil over the world and light the match and take himself along with it, something in him that has broken once and will do so again, at the slightest provocation, something as fragile as a sheet of glass already cracked or a bird’s wing once fractured from the fall and never healed right)

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I wish I had been,” he says, ignoring Tommy’s request for no more apologies, ignoring the fact that wishes and could-have-beens and what-ifs are useful to exactly nobody. “Ghostbur wasn’t exactly a great help, I know—”

“Oi,” Tommy says, pulling away to look him in the face, “don’t insult Ghostbur. He was doing the best he could. Maybe he didn’t really understand a lot, but he was there. Even when nobody else really was. He was—he was better than nothing, you know? He tried to make people happy. So don’t make fun of him.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t,” he says, and for some reason, thinks about the flowers he still has. He’s not sure why he kept them, why he bothered to retrieve them from the locker at all. But he did, and he has them, and they’re the only thing in his inventory at all. Cornflowers. Blue.

(he tried to make people happy but he failed, didn’t he, so how much could he possibly have mattered? he failed in a different way from Wilbur-when-living, but he failed all the same, and that is another thing they have in common, loathe though he is to admit it)

Tommy seems content with this, and he leans forward again with a sigh.

“We’re gonna have to go check out that Egg, aren’t we?” he mutters into Wilbur’s shirt.

“What makes you say that?”

“Dream mentioned it,” Tommy says. “I hate letting him yank me around. But he could be involved with it, maybe. Could be trying to—to hatch something, or something like that. I wouldn’t put it past him. So we’ve got to go see what the thing is all about.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that you have to do anything,” Wilbur says. “You deserve a break. You don’t have to play hero.”

“I’m not playing hero,” Tommy murmurs. “I am a big damn hero. Never really got a choice in that, did I?” He pulls back again, letting Wilbur get a good look at the way his eyes have begun to droop. It’s no wonder; it’s been an exhausting day, even if it’s only late afternoon. It’s a good thing, really, because that means he doesn’t quite notice the twisted expression that Wilbur is sure is on his face. “No, but there are people I want to protect. My friends. Like Tubbo. And Sam. So we should go see the Egg and make sure it’s not gonna hurt them.”

Wilbur looks at him, at this child who has gone through more than any child should and has come out the other side still standing, still determined to help his friends, still loyal to a fault, and he wonders how he could ever have suspected him of turning against him. How he ever could have managed to fuck up with him so badly.

“Okay,” he says softly. “We can go see the Egg.”

Never again, he thinks. I swear to you, I’m not fucking up again. And ignores the dread that’s pooling in his heart.

They’ll go visit the Egg. Assuage their curiosity. And then, finally, perhaps, some peace.

[johnismyreason]

Hell on Earth (one) // KOH!TomHolland x Human!Reader

Summary: Tom, Prince of Hell and only heir to the throne, is sent to Earth by his parents as a punishment. He ends up in an odd city full of the worst humans, except one, who, despite not knowing who he truly is, decides to help him.

I have this idea since this summer and I was way too lazy and busy to put it down. This is going to be a series so if you want to be tagged for next chapters, you can send it in the ask box, and also tell me what you thought of it ! I really hope you’ll enjoy it my loves :) 

oh ! also this is my thousandth post ! Thank you so much for following me and enjoying my work, it means the world to me ! 

Warnings: sort of panick attack, cursing, bad English bc I’m French and other mistakes.

/////////////////////////////////////

“Wait... What do you mean I’m banned ?” Tom huffed, not believing what he just heard. 

His voice resonated in the gigantic throne room where his parents, the King and Queen of Hell were sat, holding hands. The room was cold, just like every other room in this castle, even though outside the weather was hot, dry, almost stifling. 

“Tom, we asked you multiple time to take your responsibilities as the future King of Hell, and instead you kept partying, having fun, hanging out with the wrong people.” explained his father “You’re not a child anymore” Tom’s heart was beating so fast making his breath was heavy. 

The young prince was known for his love for partying, being carefree and for never taking his responsibilities. Tom was the sole heir to the throne, so he knew he wouldn’t be in competition with anyone else. However he saw that as an opportunity to do whatever he wanted, more than a heavy burden to save the honour of his family. 

He looked at his father and his mother alternately, trying to process. Tom finally stoped his sight on his mother who was as disappointed as his father. Normally, she always takes his defence, try to smooth the King’s fury, but not this time. 

“Mother...” whispered Tom full of despair, looking for help, but she only looked down, hiding her sad eyes. “Father, you can’t ban me forever ! Who’s going to be the next King ?” 

“I’m not banning you forever, my son” the King rose from his throne and walked slowly towards Tom. “I know Hell must have a King or Queen no matter what. I am banning you until the moment you are responsible, respectable and grown enough to become King.” 

“That makes no sense !” Tom exclaimed flying his hands up and looking at the ceiling. “I am responsible, respectable and grown ! I am the result of the education you taught me my whole life and-”

“You don’t speak to me like that, Thomas !” cut the King when Tom started raising his voice. “You are in no position to say anything.” Tom pinched his lips to stop him from yelling again and breathed with his nostrils. His father was now right in front of him, standing tall. “You leave immediately.” 

“Immediately ?! But... But where to ? How am I gonna live ?” 

“Earth” simply responded the King. Tom puffed the breath he didn’t he was holding, his arms getting heavier. 

“Earth ?” he repeated. His father nodded his head. “Dad...” the king flinched hearing this name. It wasn’t forbidden just... unusual. “I can’t go to Earth.” Tom’s eyes are dangerously filling with tears but he knows that letting them fall won’t change anything. “Please give me another chance, I’ll do anything-”

“You will do as I said. You will go to Earth. End of discussion.” The King turned his back to Tom and walked back to his throne next to his wife who was now slightly crying. Tom ran to his mother, fell on his knees and took her hands in his, begging her to do something. 

“Mother please, don’t let me go, I promise I will behave, I’ll be the King you’re waiting for, you’re wanting me to be. P-please...” Tom was no longer holding his tears back. The Queen withdrew her hands sharply from Tom's grasp. 

“Tom, you will go to Earth as the King ordered. You will be able to come back when you are ready to take his place.” The Queen of Hell stood up and forced Tom to do the same. They faced for a few seconds trying to speak without words. The Queen was disappointed, angry and sad to see that her son was not the young King she hoped for to see, but instead was this childish, selfish and reckless prince only interested in loosing himself in every creature and drugs he could find at parties. His mother embraced him, holding him as close as she can before he leaves. After all, he’s still her only child.

“Don’t ever disappoint me like that, Tom” she whispered in his ear. Tom shivered in her arms, felling guilty to cause her this much pain. “Find a reason to be wise. This is Hell, a kingdom. Not anarchy. I will miss you my love” she sobbed and Tom buried his face in the crook of her neck, like he used to when his heart was aching as a child. 

“Mom, please don’t let me go...” his whimpers muffled in his mother’s hair. She pulled back and took Tom’s face in her hands to look at him one last time. 

“Find her” she softly smiled. Tom looked confused at the Queen, before feeling an odd warmth in his chest. 

Looking down at it, he saw a red light consuming him rapidly spreading across his body. He stepped back and hit his chest trying to take this light off of him. He knew what it meant. He saw multiple times people getting banned from Hell. Traitors, fallen demons, even his uncle. The light was taking his whole body, there was nothing Tom could have done to stop it. He raised his frightened eyes to his parents who looked at him without any emotion, when he vanished in a flash of light dust. 

///////////////////////////////

Tom doesn’t really know how he ended up in a refrigerator but as soon as he felt the cold on his skin he bursted out of it, earning little surprised screams and confused looks from the people in the grocery store. Tom looked around before heading out running. He stopped in the middle of the road when he heard a car honking at him and stoping right before him. 

“Get out of here asshole !” screamed the driver. Tom, whom was really not accustomed to be talked like that, stretched out his hand to use his power to torture the man. But, nothing happened. 

“My powers...” he mumbled. 

“What the hell are you doing, you fucking freak ?! I said get out of here !” and almost without warning, the driver hit the gas, giving Tom just the time to push himself on the side. 

He ran to the boardwalk and started walking fast, his head turning in all directions to find an issue to this nightmare. He heard people complaining about him and his weird behaviour but he couldn’t care less. He was alone, on Earth and literally powerless. He’s used to people being around him but they were always at his mercy. The noise, the heat, he knew all about it, but what he was experiencing right now was really not as delightful as the screams of sinners begging for the torture to stop. That was music to his ear. Not this mess that sounded like the worst carnival ever. He kept walking without knowing where to, his heart beating so fast and hard against his chest. Dripping in sweat, his muscles tensed, all your senses on alert, Tom thought he was going to die. 

“Sir ?!” a sweet but worried voice took him out of his invading thoughts. It seemed like the young lady owning this chanting voice was trying to call him a few times already. “Sir, do you hear me ? Are you okay ?” she was holding his shoulders to steady him. Tom’s eyes stared at her and all of her features. She was strangely reassuring and familiar, and she gave off a light that normally would have scared him away. She kept holding his gaze until she had an answer from Tom. 

“U-uh y-yeah, yeah...” Tom stuttered. “I’m fine”

“You really don’t seem fine” she questioned, her hands still on his shoulders but her grip loosened, since Tom calmed down a little. 

“I’m just... lost” he replied. 

“Oh. Do you leave around ?” 

“Not really, no.” Tom chuckled. 

“Then, how did you end up here ?” she frowned and let her hands fall to her side, and Tom immediately missed the protecting weight of her delicate hands on his body. 

“I-I... don’t know ?” 

“You don’t know ? But- oooh, I get it” she nodded her hand side to side with a cheeky smile “partied too much uh ?” the lady chuckled. 

“Is that so obvious ?” Tom jumped on the opportunity to escape from the irrational yet real reason on why he looked like an lost elephant in the middle of the Antarctic. 

“Well... yeah.” she chuckled shrugging her shoulders. Her laugh made Tom reaching another level of calm and let himself smile back at her. “Can I help you in any way ?”

Tom couldn’t believe it. He’s been on Earth for twenty minutes and already seen the worst of it and humans, even though he lived where all the worst people end up in the after life. But she, with soft words and light hands, has managed to lower the level of absolute nightmare to bearable. 

“Um...” Tom thought of how he could tell her that he didn’t know anyone, didn’t have a place to live and couldn’t tell her where he was coming from. “No, I’m gonna be alright” he shrugged, scrunching his nose. 

“Are you sure ?” she asked surprised. “You looked pretty panicked and disoriented just a few seconds ago, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you”. Tom’s heart skipped a bit. She didn’t know him and yet she worried about him. If only she knew who he was, she would never care about me so much, thought Tom. 

“Don’t worry I got it” the curly boy responded nicely. 

“Ok... well, if you need anything, I work at the bakery down the street, at Patty’s. Don’t hesitate to come visit me.” She smiled so brightly, the light in her shone stronger, calling Tom to embrace it. 

“Thank you, this is very... nice.” Nice ? What is nice ? Tom only knew pettiness in his kingdom. 

“You’re welcome ! And don’t worry, this city looks like Hell but it’s really not that bad” she giggled. The prince rose his brows and smiled slightly at her warning. Tell me about Hell. “Well, um... bye.” she waved a little at him – and he held back the urging desire to take it in his to place a delicate kiss on it – and walked passed him, turning her head back for a final look.  

Tom sighed heavily thinking that nobody will help him anymore and that he had to find a place to sleep at least for tonight. He wandered the whole day around the city of... London ? At least that’s what he heard from other people. Why this place, though ? Who chose it for him ? Is it his father ? His mother ? A random counsellor ? The fallen prince had no answer but approximately a thousand questions. 

The sun was setting down, illuminating the London’s sky with a bright pink and purple light. People were either going home or going out to party. I could use a party, thought Tom. But he shook this idea out of his brain. He was on Earth for this exact reason. I could use a bed, actually. Without noticing it, Tom went back to the square he met... Satan, I don’t even know her name ! He thought of going to that bakery and ask her for help. Maybe she knows where he can sleep tonight. Maybe she can invite him to her place. Maybe... maybe he should not bother her with his problems. Ugh ! Tom grunted in despair and cursed his parents for the deep shit he’s in. His head turned around when he heard giggles and high heels tapping the pavement. A group of girlfriends was heading to a bar to celebrate someone’s birthday. They were pretty. Tom’s feet took the lead, and walked him towards the same bar, where music – awful music he thought – was blasting. He hesitated to go inside and then thought a drink wouldn't hurt him. He has already drunk far worse than the poor human drinks. One glass, that's all. And Tom walked into the bar, his heart racing with excitement.

///////////////////////////////////

That was one drink too much. When Tom slowly emerged from his sleep, his head was banging like crazy. He squeezed his eyes open, blinded by light coming directly on his face, his hand before his sight. He then only realised where he was. Laid on a bed, his head resting on a soft pillow, under a warm blanket... naked... next to a girl, naked too... oh, actually two girls. Tom rose out from the bed. With a pillow to cover him, the party boy looked for his clothes that were spread on the floor, and put them back. That looks too familiar. He then tried to proceed to get out of the bedroom but tripped on one of the girl’s high heels.

“Damn it !” he grunted, waking up... Stacey ? 

“Uhmm Tom ? What are you doing ?” she mumbled coming out of her dreams. 

“I... go. Bye.” He opened the door and motioned out. 

“Wait ! When are we meeting again ?” she asked dropping herself with the blanket, leaving her friend fully naked. “We had a lot of fun last night” she walked closer to him, lingering a finger on his chest and biting her lip. She’s pretty. 

“Never.” He took her wrist out of his chest and said “Look, Stacey-”

“Chloe” she corrected shooting him with her eyes. 

“Shit, I knew it.” he said between his teeth. “Look, Chloe, we had fun, yes, but uhh, you see, we won’t do it again.” 

“Why ?” she looked disappointed 

“You’re not my best shot in bed. ‘Didn’t blow my mind. So, yeah... Bye !” and just like that, Tom steeped out of the appartement under a rain of insults from the now very angry girl. It always made him laugh. Playing with girls, taking what he wants from them and never apologise. 

But now what ? Back to the starting point, Tom was a wandering soul in London. His head was killing him from all of the alcohol he had. It shouldn’t be hurting him this much. Human’s beverages were poor and weak. He never understood why alcoholic sinners were so addicted to this. It’s not even good ! His feet were dragging him through the wakening city and he felt his stomach growled. 

“How the hell did I end up here again ?” Tom mumbled scratching his scalp. He was back on the square his life saver left him yesterday. It’s maybe a sign, thought Tom. A sign ? What sign ? Tom didn’t have much more time to think before his stomach screamed for food. “Guess I don’t have any other choice” he sighed and began to walk towards the bakery. 

When he arrived, the prince of Hell, discovered a bright colour painted shop, with a few tables and a window full of pastries, sandwiches and cakes. His mouth watering at the sight, he could have smashed the window and eaten it all. 

“You ? Hi !” said a melodic voice. Tom snapped his head up to look at you. What an angel.

“Hi... You remember me ?” asked Tom 

“I do, yeah ! Um, how are you doing ?” you smiled 

“Perfect !” responded enthusiastically Tom, his hands behind his back. 

“Yeah ?”

“No, I lied.” he admitted immediately, taking you by surprise. You blinked a few times not knowing what to say. “I’m in deep shit actually” 

“Umm, wow, ok... so how can I help you ?”

“First, can I know your name ?”

You shook your head lightly realizing that indeed, you never told each other’s names “Oh yeah, I’m Y/N. You ?”

“My name’s Tom, prin- just Tom” he cut himself from using the old and vanished way of presenting himself.

“Ok, just Tom,” you giggled trying to relax, “what’s next ?”

“Next, could you offer me something to eat and drink and seat with me so I can expose you my, uhh, situation”. That was bold of him to ask you to give you food when you were still strangers to each other.

But you didn’t hesitate “Sure ! What would you like ?” You demanded with the biggest smile. How is it possible to be so nice ?

“The tuna sandwich please ?” What ? I don’t even like tuna ! It’s because of that smile...

“Great ! Have a seat and I’ll join you right away” you both nodded at each other and Tom chose a table that was the farrest from the counter. While waiting for you, he fought of how he could tell you that he’s actually the Prince of Hell, whom was banned by his parents to teach him a lesson, and didn’t know why he ended up here, in London, but however he still needs a place to live for a few days, or weeks, or month... or years. Tom let out a deep breath and played with his fingers.

This is gonna be easy. Right ?

_______________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @theamuz @shayminisshiny @lovewolfspirit @mybabyboytony @justamessandahalf @kenzieee000 @maybemona​ @bailey8211 @smallheathgangsters @skymoonandstardust​ @fangirlfree @geesquariid @tcf1​ @mycomealongpond11 @osterfieldnholland​ @seutarose @sailingintothenight​ @peterbparkerth @hollanddolanfangirl