#she is still mad about the second set of eggs i had to remove from the enclosure

[unnamed-atlas]

Watching my jumping spider stalk her prey saying "Girl get his ass" outloud everytime she makes the tiniest of movements towards the mealworm

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - 24

Hello everyone! Here we are with chapter 24

It’s winter in Orynth and the guys have a busy day. Rowan and Lorcan enjoy their ride with the team and we also have some Elorcan gossip.

Rowan and Lorcan also talk and we discover something about Lyria...

Have fun!

The following morning Aelin woke up abruptly and missed the warm body at her side and curled under the duvet in a human burrito.

“Ro?” She called with just her head peeking from under her cover.

A moment later he sat down in bed offering her a cup of coffee.

“Cold.”

He leaned over to kiss her “it snowed last night. There’s over a metre of snow outside.”

“Lovely,” she protested “heaters fires, accidents, roof collapses due to snow, slips, more road accidents, pile ups.”

“Doom and gloom this early in the morning?”

She groaned and grabbed the coffee, sitting up with still the duvet all around her “I love snow and winter, but on my day off.” She took a sip of her coffee “house fires increase wildly. All those mantlepieces not properly attended. Electrical fires because too many appliances are connected to an outlet. And let’s not forget carbon monoxide related deaths. Such a magical time.”

“We’ll build a snowman when you are off shift.”

Then he offered her a plate full of scrambled eggs and bacon.

“You definitely know how to woo a woman.” She grabbed the plate and tucked in happily.

“You and Lorcan need to stay on the truck. No matter what’s going on outside.”

Rowan nodded “we will.” And he kissed her head. He was really looking forward to ride with the team.

An hour later they were walking across the yard in front of the station when Lorcan and Elide arrived as well. Together. Hand in hand.

Aelin tugged Rowan gently and he nodded.

“Arriving together?” Joked Aelin “naughty, naughty girl.”

Elide smiled “yes, I slept at Lorcan’s. Guilty.”

“Hey, I am just happy for you two.” 

The four walked into the station and while Elide and Aelin went to get changed, the two men went to the common room where some members of the team were already there.

“The posh boys are here.” Shouted Aedion as soon as they stepped in.

Rowan bowed “indeed we are.” Then he noticed two new women and went to introduce himself “Hi, I am Rowan.”

“This is Borte, our new truck candidate,” Aedion went to the woman’s side and made the introductions “he is the captain’s flying boy,” then he pointed at Lorcan “grumpy pants over here is Lorcan. He grunts a lot but does not bite. And he’s Elide’s.”

Rowan burst out laughing.

“This young lady here is Evangeline.” And he moved to the side of the blonde-haired woman “she is our paramedic in training. She is riding with Lys and Elide.”

Rowan greeted her back and she gave him a timid smile.

Aelin arrived a moment later and went to give a kiss on the cheek of her cousin “did you remove all the snow from the entrance all alone?”

“No, he had two minions.” Said Brullo sprawled on the sofa watching tv “the man is a tyrant.”

“My arms are useless.” Complained Ress.

Aelin patted both on the shoulders “well, better get ready for a busy day. From the pile of reports I have on my desk from second shift it looks like we are in for a treat.”

“Are truck and engine all stocked up and ready?”

Aedion nodded “I did a check and we are good.”

“Lys and Elide are doing a final check on the ambulance for supplies.”

In that instant dispatch alarm went off calling all units of east station on site for a structure fire.

“Here we go guys.” They all scrambled, wore their gear and reached the trucks.

“You two, in there and stay put, ok?”

The two men nodded.

The trucks left the station and Rowan felt a thrill run through his spine.

“What’s a structure fire?”

“Bad news,” joked Brullo at Rowan’s side.

“Or usually, what we call Monday.” Added Aelin never averting the eyes from the road.

Rowan stared at Nox driving and was impressed at the skill. He navigated busy intersections with confidence.

Aelin honked the horn a few times “move, you idiots.” The traffic peeled to the side and the engine resumed its run swiftly.

Once they arrived at the site Rowan gasped. The fire had enveloped the entire house.

“That is a structure fire,” said Aelin and the team got off truck and engine and Aelin started to give orders.

“Manon, Luca, venting the back.”

“Wes you are taking second floor with me. Aedion, Kyllian, Nox, you go to the first floor. Borte you go with them and stick to Aedion. Asterin, Ansel, you do ground floor. Brullo, Ren you are at the water lines. We need to be quick.”

Both Rowan and Lorcan were watching the scene speechless.

“I know she does this on a daily basis, but seeing her jumping into a building on fire is different than just imagining it.”

Dorian arrived on the scene a moment later and got an update from Brullo and Ren who were ready with the water lines.

“Chief, captain, you have two minutes to finish primary search and rescue then you all evacuate.” He looked up at the fire and flinched “Manon, how’s that venting going?”

“Venting now, sir.”

Temporary relief washed over him when he saw Nox run out with a woman in tow.

Lorcan’s eyes set on Elide, jumping in the woman’s rescue with Lysandra.

Rowan stared as more firefighters came out with people but never Aelin. He noticed Dorian staring at the fire nervously “Evacuate now.” He ordered over the radio. The chief must have noticed a change in the fire to call for abandoning the rescue. Rowan followed in fascination trying to remember some of the thing about fire he had read in Aelin’s books.

Aelin was walking low, almost crawling looking for people hiding below the smoke “fire department call out.”

“I am all clear, we need to go.” Said Wesley at her back.

Aelin had a last look around and was about to leave the room when she heard a voice “Wes, get out. I got this.”

“Cap, we need to go. The chief ordered us to evacuate.”

“Wes, get out.” She shouted and left, running to the locked door where she heard the voice coming from.

She gave her back to the door and kicked it open. Then she turned and saw a crib and inside there was a toddler. 

“Aelin, get the hell out now.” Dorian’s voice came over the radio. She picked up the boy and squeezed him in her fire jacket and held him close for protection.

“Come on… come on…” Rowan heard Dorian’s order and his heart was racing painfully. Why wasn’t she listening?

Then he saw it the flareup in her floor and shouted “Aelin, please…”

Aelin looked around the room and realised the flashover had cut off her only exit route. Then ran to the window and with her elbow she smashed the glass all while holding the infant.

“There!” shouted someone from a lower level.

“Ress, move the aerial to her.” 

Aelin leaned over and sat astride on the window ledge.

Aedion ran up the aerial and grabbed the toddler “I got him, get your arse in here.”

She was about to fully climb over when another flashover rocked the house and Aelin got thrown off balance and grabbed the ledge with her hands and hung there.

Aedion saw her and ran back up “give me a hand.” The man grabbed a hand and pulled her over on the aerial.

“You are fucking crazy.” He told her quietly.

She followed him down and she was on the street again.

“I said evacuate.” Shouted Dorian.

“Don’t.” She bit back “I saved that boy’s life.” 

“Sit.” Dorian ordered her. Aelin removed her mask and marched off to sit against the truck, rotating her shoulders to ease the pain.

Lysandra passed her a bottle of water “are you okay?”

Aelin nodded while drinking eagerly and watching while the rest of the team put the fire out.

Rowan opened the door of the engine and went to her “you are insane. And I think I almost lost it in there.”

“I am fine.” She told him quietly extending her hand to him.

He marched back in the engine, joining Lorcan.

“Do you still think women can’t do dangerous jobs?” He bit back. A part of him was a bit mad at Aelin. What she did had been insane. But he could not ignore the deep sense of pride he had in her. He was utterly in love with a super badass woman. He watched as the team slowly wrapped up their jobs. Dorian had called for a secondary search and they were getting out the burnt down house right now. Aelin still sitting on the front bumper of the truck grounded by Dorian.

He looked at her and smiled. She was covered in soot but she still looked stunning to him. Rowan turned his head and saw Lorcan still studying Elide while she went from victim to victim and checked them out with Lysandra.

“I think I am badly in love with Elide.” He said very, very quietly.

“You what?”

“You heard me, Whitethorn. Don’t make me say it twice.”

“Would it be so bad?” Asked Rowan, sitting beside him.

“I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Well, don’t.” In that instant the door opened and the team climbed back in. He took a seat behind Aelin and with his hand extended he brushed her cheek and she took his hand gently “did you enjoy the show?”

“It was literally terrifying.”

“Main to all units. Car accident on Southside. Multiple vehicles involved.”

“Copy that main, east station is en route. Dispatch an ambulance on site. Our one is on its way to Orynth general.” Replied Aelin over the radio.

“Copy that east. We are sending an ambulance to assist.”

“Punch it, Nox.”

“You two boys are in for a ride. A nice fire and a car pile-up. We just need a chemical spillage and most of the fun is complete.”

“Don’t jink it,” said Asterin from behind.

They drove for a short distance and at the site Rowan looked out of the window and saw a few cars all smashed against each other.

Aelin and the team got off engine and truck and she patted at his window and blew him a kiss and ran away.

Seeing her in action he suddenly realised why she ate so much.

“Luca, you come with me we’ll take the upturned car.” She shouted at the youngster “Aedion, take the red one with Ansel and Borte. Everyone spread and take the other cars. Remember fuel leaks.”

Luca grabbed his tools and started trying to pry open the door. 

Aelin kneeled down and checked the woman “I need a c-collar,” she screamed to the paramedics.

The woman’s head was bloodied, she checked the pulse through the cracked window and found it weak and she was not breathing.

Luca finally did manage to get the door open and together they pulled it away. Aelin sneaked into the front of the car and pulled the collar around the woman’s neck.

Lysandra and Elide were back from the hospital run and joined them ready and waiting for their patient.

“Aelin, you need to pull her out quickly.”

“I know,” snapped Aelin trying to cut the belt. Once the belt was free she realised the woman’s legs were stuck.

“Luca, I need spreaders. Right now.” She told him and the young man ran to the truck to grab the tool. He came back and with some acrobatics Aelin placed the tool in the area where the pedals were and started separating the metal. “As soon as she is free grab her.”

The metal slowly bent and freed the woman’s legs. “Go.” Luca took the woman and passed her in the care of the paramedics.

“Evangeline, grab an intubation kit and intubate the woman.”

The young woman nodded and Aelin stared with worry.

Once she was intubated Elide and Lysandra continued to do all possible to revive the woman. Aelin and Luca towered over them ready to help if needed.

She saw them use a defibrillator.

“Pushing epi.” She heard Elide say and Aelin knew from her emergency medical training that it was bad.

She paced nervously running a hand in her dirty hair. She took stock of the situation and noticed a few people out of the cars and being helped out and looked after by the other ambulances. Good at least the others did manage to save someone.

Aelin heard the long continuous beep of a flat line and realised the woman did not make it. Then she heard Lysandra calling it.

“Sorry, Aelin.”

Luca was at her side in an instant “cap, we did all we could.”

“Well, it was not enough.” She snapped while in her head she started going through all she could have done differently.

“Aelin,” Lysandra stood to face her friend “there was very little you could have done differently.” Knowing exactly where her friend’s mind had wandered off “She was in bad shape already. We did all we could, as Luca said.”

Dorian joined them a moment later “Aelin, come.”

They moved to the side “Get it out of the system quickly. Yes, you lost one person and it hurts, but I kept an eye on you and you haven’t done anything that I wouldn’t have done myself. You tried. But that was the car in worst shape.” He patted her shoulder “think about the boy you saved from the fire. Think about the second chance you gave him.”

Aelin nodded and walked away and joined her team in packing up all the gear once they were done. 

Once she climbed back on the engine she looked at Rowan and his expression was full of worry for her. Gods, she just wanted to melt in his arms for ten minutes and shut down everything. She felt his hand sneak in the space between seat and door and try to grab hers. He didn’t say anything. He just held her hand.

They arrived back at the station not long after.

Aelin got off the engine and started removing her turnout gear.

“Aedion, take Borte and show her the checks to do to the engines after a call. I’ll take the equipment. Before heading to their duties they all ran to the bathrooms to remove the layers of soot and dirt from the two calls.

Once everyone had stored their gear Aelin hid in the room for equipment and began doing her checks and clean it. She needed some time alone.

Ten minutes later a head of silver hair peeked through the open door “hey,” he said quietly.

“Come in,” she said to him and Rowan took a step in and sat on the bench at her side.

“I am in awe.” His knuckles brushed her cheek “I had an idea of what you guys did, but seeing it for real. I was amazed. But also utterly terrified.”

“I could not help that woman, though.” She said sadly, placing a mask on the ground “she died.”

“Fireheart, I heard what Dorian said and I agree. I am sure you did all you could. Her car looked in pretty banged up state from my corner. If she survived it would have been a big damn miracle.”

“I know,” she let out a loose breath “I know.” Her head heavy against a jacket “it’s just not easy. I knew she was in bad conditions but I still wanted to save her.”

“Come here.” He pulled her to him “I have a piece of gossip for you.”

Her head whipped to him and he saw a smile finally appear.

“Lorcan admitted to me he thinks he is badly in love with Elide.”

Aelin’s hand went to her mouth in surprise “this is big.”

Rowan nodded “I don’t think he told her yet. He is just worried he will mess it up.”

“He’d better not. Elide has strong feelings for him as well. He breaks her heart and I will have his head.”

He nodded “I have been keeping an eye on him.”

“Good, now go back to the others and let me finish.”

He leaned forward and kissed her deeply. Aelin dropped what she had in her hands and once free they grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer to her and then on top of her as she leaned back on the bench. He caged her head between his arms and was about to kiss her again when dispatch alarm went off.

“Really?” She stood quickly and kisses him “stay at the station.” He nodded and she ran out. And he walked out slowly and joined Lorcan and both men stared at the vehicles leave the floor.

“Are they alway this busy? They have been back for forty minutes.”

Rowan sighed “Aelin mentioned this morning that with snow, things tend to get busier.” Then he had an idea “ever built a snowman?”

Lorcan rolled his eyes “yes, I was a kid once too, remember?”

“Get your coat back on and come with me.”

Once both men were ready with warm clothes Rowan walked outside to the front of the fire station near the entrance “Here.” Said Rowan pointing at the spot.

“Here what?”

“The snowman. To cheer them up. They had a stressful morning and probably it will not slow down.”

Lorcan tied his hair and started rolling the snow to form a ball for the body. Rowan smiled and joined him, preparing a second one. Once Lorcan had the bottom part ready, Rowan lifted the second one on top and both started fixing the body to give it an even shape. Then Rowan created a smaller ball for the head. Once done he lifted the final piece and took a step back to look at their work “not too bad.”

Lorcan removed his scarf and placed it around the snowman’s neck. Then Rowan ran back inside in Aelin’s office and grabbed the plastic fake firefighter hat he had won the day they did drills, got back and placed it on the snowman. Finally they gave him eyes and a mouth and Lorcan added some wooden sticks at the side so that they looked like arms.

Rowan looked around and then spotted something more he could add. He ran to a corner and picked up an abandoned tool.

“What is that?”

Rowan lifted the tool “I think Aelin called it an Halligan bar. The guys use it to pry open things.” He explained placing it near the sticky hand of the snowman “now he looks perfect.”

Once they were done the two men went back into the station and decided to prepare a meal for them “they must be famished.”

Lorcan nodded “I agree. Let’s prepare a nice meal.”

They were halfway through making lunch when they heard the trucks finally return and both ran outside, and only truck and engine appeared. The ambulance must have gone to the hospital.

Rowan’s eyes landed on a wet Aelin, her body wrapped in a few thick blankets. He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her frame. She was freezing and he felt her shiver and her teeth clattering “What happened?” His hands brushed her back quickly.

“We had two calls. Another fire and then a kid who fell in the water while skating on the frozen lake in a park. Aelin grabbed the kid but fell in when the rope dropped.” Explained Aedion.

As on pure instinct Rowan got into action. He took Aelin and dragged her to her quarters “we need to get you out of those wet clothes.”

She stood in front of him shaking and hugging the blankets against her body. Slowly he helped her remove all the layers until she was stark naked in front of him.

“Any..” teeth clattering “any excuse to get me naked.” Her tone was deep with tiredness.

He chuckled and went to the shower block to grab some towels and once back he begun drying her up.

“I’ll be back in a second.” Rowan disappeared once more and this time went to Aedion “do you have any spare clothes for Aelin?”

The man nodded and he was back a few minutes later with a pile of dry clothes in his hands “how is she doing?”

“Trying to warm her up.” He was about to move away when he turned to the man “what the heck happened?”

“Aelin wanted Borte to practice with the ropes in a real situation so she had Borte drop her in the ice crack to help the boy. The girl lost hold of the rope. It happened so fast that I was not quick enough to grab her,” he explained “She kept diving in in the cold water until she grabbed the boy. Only once he was safe she let us help her out.”

“You should have taken her to the hospital.” Rowan bit back annoyed.

“Don’t you think we tried?” Aedion matched him in tone “she is stubborn. She refused treatment.” 

Rowan growled and grabbed the clothes “thanks for this.” And ran back to her quarters.

Aelin was sitting on her bed, the blankets still wrapped around her.

“I have dry clothes for you.”

“I have spare bra and knickers in my locker. The combination is your birthday.” Her speech was slow and he could feel her exhaustion.

Rowan gave her a smirk and rushed out once again and returning not long after with the garments.

“My underwear doesn’t scare you anymore?”

Rowan chuckled “we live together and I have seen enough of your daring lingerie not to be affected.”

Aelin slowly dressed up again and when she was done Rowan pulled back the blankets and pushed her legs under and finished drying her hair “now you relax, I’ll see if I can get some hot food for you.” A gentle kiss on her head.

Rowan then went to Lorcan and asked him to make something hot for her. She was still shivering hard and he was getting very nervous.

He was back in her quarters when Lysandra popped in with a bag in her hands “do you mind if I check on her?”

He stood “no, please.”

Lysandra took her temperature “still 33 degrees. It was 32 when we took her out.” She grabbed the transparent bag at her side “this is an IV of warm saline, it will help her and should bring her temperature up.”

“Lorcan is making something hot for her.”

Lysandra nodded “have water at her side as well.” And Rowan nodded “it might take a while before her temperature goes up again and she will be exhausted.”

The woman then hanged the IV bag against the edge of her closet and left.

Dispatch alarm went off again and Aelin made a move but Rowan stopped her “you are not going anywhere.”

“I-I am the cap-captain. I have to.” She was still shivering from the cold.

He ran to the apparatus floor “Aedion, Aelin is not coming. She is still cold.”

“I was not expecting her to. I told Dorian she is out for today.”

“Thank you.”

The man nodded.

“Stay safe, all of you.”

Lorcan met him halfway “I am making soup.”

Rowan patted his arm “thank you.”

“Lorcan is making you soup.” He announced as he got back to her “we’ll go home as soon as you are feeling warmer.”

“I am fine.”

“No,” he brushed his hand through her hair “you are still shivery. You eat something hot. Warm up and then we’ll see.”

“I should be with the guys.”

Rowan shook his head “Aedion alerted Dorian and told him you are out for the day.”

Aelin was about to reply but Lorcan joined them carrying a bowl with hot soup.

“How is our fearless leader doing?” He asked while placing the bowl on her night stand with a spoon on the side.

“Still feeling cold.”

“I hope you’ll like the soup. I made it the other night for Elide and she loved it.”

“Thank you, Lorcan.”

He gave her a quick salute and a tight smile and disappeared.

“Are we sure he is the same man?”

Rowan shrugged and grabbed the bowl but Aelin snatched it from his hands “don’t you dare and try to spoon feed me. Stop fussing, captain.”

“Fine.” He stood “I’ll leave you to it.” And left.

He reached Lorcan who was sitting on the sofa watching tv.

“You okay?” He sat beside him.

“Yeah. I put the food away until they are back.” He sighed “I thought we had it bad in our last mission but the guys don’t seem to have too much downtime either.”

“Yeah, today is pretty bad. I saw them on slow days when they have even time to play games. Today has been hell.”

“How’s Aelin doing?”

Rowan’s head snapped in his direction “this is the first time you finally call her with her name. It’s always the captain or your woman.”

Lorcan cleared his voice almost embarrassed “I am starting to like her.”

“Good because I am planning on keeping her around.”

“At least she is not whiny.”

Rowan sighed. He knew Lorcan never liked Lyria. He was the only person who had been the most vocal about his disagreement in him marrying the woman. His other friends were not her fans but had shown him support when he proposed and after. Lorcan had always made his opinion clear. He had told him in his face that he was marrying the wrong woman.

“Well, at least you approve of this one.”

Lorcan snorted “damn man, there is no comparison. Lyria used the marriage to try and change you into her puppet and when it did not work she lost it and became this jealous bitch.” He stood and paced “she came to me and begged me to invent an excuse to fire you.”

“I did not know.”

“I never told you because for some crazy reason you seemed attached to her. Truth is… the woman was toxic.” He stopped in front of Rowan “Essar told me she saw her a few times in a club with another man, while we were away.”

Rowan leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes “that I suspected, just as much as I suspected that the baby was not mine.” He confessed “before we deployed for the mission in which I had to go home for her funeral I found the divorce paper she had ready.”

“And you still grieved.”

“She was my wife.” He almost shouted “yes, she was not perfect but I loved her.”

“Loved her as much as you love Aelin? Because in all the time I have known you I have never seen you with a woman the way you are with Aelin.”

“No, not even close.”

“Would you marry her?”

Rowan only indulged on that thought once. It was far too early. They had just started to actually build their relationship. He was happy where they were right now.

“Not while I am still on active duty. I promised myself that next time I get married I will not be an absent husband again. And I want a family one day. I just need to hold on for a bit. Less than five years and the prison is over.”

“I can make a few calls and get you a full time position at pilot school. I know you have been having issue with the force recently but your skills are vital.”

Rowan shook his head “Thanks but no. Once I retire I will be out forever and I have another path in mind. I want to train to become a paramedic and work in a firehouse.”

“Well, I guess your time as nurse Whitethorn will come handy on your application.”

Rowan flipped him off and patted his leg “let me go and check on Aelin.”

He left Lorcan and joined Aelin and found her wrapped under the blankets with just her face peeking out. Her phone against the head of the bed. He smiled when he saw the bowl completely empty. Good.

“Hey you,” he sat her side and brushed her head “how are you feeling?”

“Not great and I can’t seem to shake the cold from my bones and I feel so tired.”

He lay down at her side and tucked her against his body and looked at the saline bag “the IV is almost finished.”

“You need skin to skin to keep me warm.”

He flipped her nose “we can’t do that here at the fire station so this is it for now.”

“I am going to write a review on the sexy nurse website that sent you and complain that I am not satisfied with the service.”

“Menace.”

“Are the guys still out?”

Rowan nodded “Lorcan prepared lunch for everyone and I hope they will have time to sit down and eat when they come back.”

Rowan nodded “what were you watching?” He asked as he noticed her phone playing a movie.

“I don’t know a random fantasy series Netflix recommended. I wasn’t paying much attention.”

He bent his legs and placed the phone against them and put an arm around her shoulder “well, let’s watch trash tv together.” He made sure she was all tucked in and cozy.

Eventually he heard the squad come back in the station, turned his head and noticed Aelin napping. He stood and joined the team at the front. They all looked exhausted and he hoped Lorcan’s meal would be enough to cheer them up.

“I saw our new frozen candidate.” Joked Brullo while shedding his turnout gear.

“Lorcan and I thought it would cheer you up guys.”

The tall dark-haired man joined them as well “I have loads of food ready. Come and eat before you get called again.”

The team cheered and scrambled into the kitchen. Aedion joined Rowan “how is she doing?”

“Warming up but tired. She is sleeping now.”

“How was the last call?” Asked Lorcan curious.

“Drunken driver. Crashed into a car with a family. The father is a goner and one of the kids is in bad shape.” Explained Manon reining in her rage.

Lorcan cursed savagely “the bastard.”

The conversation died after that, the topic too hard to even add anything else.

“Thank you for lunch, both of you,” said Elide, giving a smile to both Lorcan and Rowan.

“Honestly, it was all Lorcan, I was busy playing nurse.” Added Rowan.

In that moment Dorian popped in.

“Chief!” Shouted Ren “come have food.”

The chief sat down and joined the team “how are you all doing? You guys had a long day.”

No one said much “I went at the hospital and checked on the last family you saved from the drunken driver. The doctors are confident the boy will make a full recovery with time.”

Everyone sighed in relief.

He took a bite “how is Aelin doing?”

“She is in her bunk, sleeping under a pile of blankets. She is very tired and cold.” Rowan explained.

“Is she warming up now?”asked Lysandra “she was showing some very early stages of hypothermia. Her temperature was around 32 degree when we pulled her out.”

“She did not accept to be taken to the hospital.” Pointed out Aedion with a bit of annoyance in his voice.

“I heard that.” Continued Dorian “we should have pushed her. Aelin can be stubborn.”

 A few snorts echoed in the room.

In that instant Aelin walked into the room with her hoodie on and a blanket around her.

“Hey,” Rowan stood and went to her “what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to be alone.” And she sat heavily in Rowan’s lap, never letting the blanket go.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” she croaked.

Everyone laughed and Rowan gave her his seat and placed a plate in front of her. Lysandra sneaked in and took her temperature very quickly “35.5 you are almost back to normal. Do you still feel cold?”

Aelin took a bite “I still don’t feel great.”

“That is normal. Your body went through a lot of shock.” Explained Elide.

“Captain Whitethorn, make sure she takes tomorrow off. This is an order.” Said Dorian staring at the other man. 

“I am getting used to play nurse.”

Lorcan snorted “you can ask Lysandra or Elide to give you a ride in the ambulance, paramedic Whitethorn.” Rowan glared at him. That was something he had confessed only to Aelin and Lorcan.

“What is he talking about?” Asked Brullo curiously.

“I…” Rowan sighed “when I retire from the TAF in less than five years I want to retrain as a paramedic and work in a firehouse.”

“That is awesome,” shouted Asterin, sipping on her tea.

“You know that women will pretend to be sick to be treated by you?” Joked Ansel winking at him.

“Over my dead body.” Added Aelin while eating her food.

“If you need help to get into the program you let me know. I know it’s still a long time away, but, I work closely with the board and some of the trainers.” Added Dorian with a big smile.

Rowan nodded “thank you, sir. I will keep it in mind.”

“Are you sure you will be okay with leaving the airforce?” Asked Nox.

“I already did 12 years and signed up for five more a while ago. I will have no regrets when I retire.” He explained

Aedion was about to add something when dispatch alarm went off.

Dorian stood “come on guys. It’s one of those days.” Then he looked at Rowan “take her home.”

They all disappeared and Aelin sighed and drank more hot tea. Rowan and Lorcan tidied up the table and the kitchen.

*

It was an hour later when Rowan and Aelin got back home. He took her to the bedroom and she curled in bed hugging bird Rowan.

“Go under the blankets,” he said, pulling the duvet over her head “I can make you some tea.”

Aelin nodded “green tea, please?”

 He kissed her head “yes, milady.”

Rowan came back five minutes later with a pot of tea and a cup “here you go.” Then he touched her forehead with his hand “you seem to get warmer.” Another kiss on her head “that is good.”

He climbed in bed and opened his laptop and started Netflix “Fancy watching something silly?”

“Can we watch a stupid movie that we can make fun of?”

Rowan chuckled and browsed a few titles “what do you think?” He pointed at a movie “this one seems quite silly.”

Aelin nodded and he placed the laptop on their legs, bird Rowan tucked between them and then his arm went around Aelin’s and pulled her to him.

“You got a day off tomorrow. We can go to the theatre if you feel like it.”

Aelin’s head snapped toward him and she smiled “I’d love to.” She grabbed her phone and showed him something “have you seen this play?”

Rowan had a look on her phone and nodded and her saddened face broke his heart “hey,” he took her hand “we can go and see it. The first time I went I was on my own and I had no one with whom to enjoy it with.” She gave him a smile “I want to go with you. Also, it was another production. So it won’t be the same play.”

Aelin grabbed bird Rowan “yes, captain.” She said in a funny voice “I want to go to the theatre with you.” She brushed the toy in Rowan’s face “are you my boyfriend, sexy man?”

Rowan took the toy “you are actually cuter than your owner.”

“You are a mean man.” She hit him with a pillow.

“What do you think, birdie? She is also violent.” He hugged the toy “you and I we need to stick together, partner. Such a tyrant.”

“Well, I’ll let you two make out and I’ll go and make out with the last few chocolate brownies left.” She got off the bed and walked away swaying her hips on purpose to taunt Rowan “they are better boyfriend material than the current one.”

Rowan growled and got off the bed and padded quickly to the kitchen lifted her in his arms and placed her on the counter, his arms at either side of her.

Aelin’s stare was mischievous and she leaned over for a kiss but he moved away and Aelin pulled him back to her “come here, Whitethorn. Stop annoying me.”

“I should have really read the terms and conditions of this relationship.” He teased her moving a bit closer, reducing the space between their bodies.

“You might eventually get out of the airforce, but you are not getting out of this.” She whispered against his lips. Then tensed for a brief second realising the enormity of what she had just said. Truth was she did not want let go of him. A part of her, one that she kept still hidden, desired that they would one day become more. And those thoughts terrified her. She had gone from hating the man, to wishing he would never leave her. It was crazy but her heart was telling that what she was feeling was real.

Rowan stared at her, his pine green eyes on her and an expression that she could not read. Terror seeping through her that she had gone too far and ruined the moment.

“Is that a promise?” His voice low, almost hopeful, his gaze never averting hers. 

Aelin’s heart raced madly “if you want it.” She shook her head “I am sorry, it just came out.”

His hand joined hers on her knee and twinned his fingers to hers “did you mean it, though?”

Aelin slowly nodded and he smiled at her. His lips tugged up and the smile reached his eyes in a way that never fully happened before. The result left her breathless. Gods, he was even more stunning than usual. And she knew she had just seen a side of Rowan probably no one ever saw before. He smiled with others but she knew they were not full smiles. But this one… this one was something rare.

“And that’s all it matters for now.” His free hand brushed her face “there’s no hurry and I am loving this. Getting to know you. Spending time together. Spoiling you.”

“I am loving it too. So very much.” Her body inched closer “are you finally going to kiss me or you placed me on the counter to brag that you are taller than me?”

Rowan closed the distance and the kiss was everything but gentle. His hand shifted and grabbed her buttocks pulling her close while Aelin hands found their target on his back.

“We shouldn’t.” He pulled away “you need to rest.”

Aelin grabbed the collar of his t-shirt “you get me all wet and then back away? A nice energetic tumble in the sheets will get me all exhausted and ready for bed.”

Rowan did not answer, he just lifted her in his arms and her legs wrapped around his back and he carried her to the bedroom.

“Good boy.” She whispered.

And Rowan realised, while leaning forward to steal a kiss from her, that if he could do this for the rest of his existence, he’d be the happiest man of earth. 

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[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: A Little Jealousy

Reid Garwin x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,886

Summary: Reid accompanies you to a grad student social and gets a little jealous. Inspired by @saviorsong​s headcannon! 

The night air was crisp and the moon shone brightly overhead. It was well into spring so you were able to go out in a thin coat and a dress without feeling the icy prick of freezing temperatures on your skin.

The two of you were on the way to a dinner social your department put together for its grad students. A chance to get to get to know one another outside of the stresses of school life. With midterms over with, you were more than ready to have some fun.

Almost immediately after getting the email, you sent in your RSVP and put Reid down for your plus one. He grumped a little when you told him but you didn’t take him too seriously. He’d be contrary even if it was something he was actually interested in, just to get a rise out of you.

Reid and you lived only a few blocks away from the restaurant district, and opted to walk instead of circling around forever trying to nab a parking spot. Streetlights lined other side of the road. There was ample lighting. Still, you somehow managed to lose your footing.

Another couple was coming the opposite direction on the sidewalk and you scooted over to make more room for them. But when you moved to the side, your foot got caught in a crack at just the right angle. Next thing you knew, your leg gave out and you were stumbling forward, arms swinging wildly in a failed attempt to regain your balance.

You thought that you were going to hit the cement, and hit it hard, but strong arms were suddenly wrapped around your waist. It was a little jarring to come to a complete stop and all the air in your lungs was pushed out.

“Whoa!” Reid exclaimed in your ear. “That was a close one.”

You craned your neck to neck at him with large eyes. He slowly lowered you back to your feet but didn’t remove his arms from you.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, adrenaline still coursing through you. There was ringing in your ears and your muscles were like jello. “Sorry, I—I’m still a little shaken.”

He rested his chin on the top of your head. “You’re alright, babe,” he assured you, his presence a big comfort. “Now, let’s get moving. If they eat all the appetizers before we get there, I’m gonna be pissed.”

The adrenaline drained out of you instantly and there was no stopping the snort that came out of your mouth. “Gee. Thanks for the motivation.”

“I know, I know: I should really do motivational speaking for a living.”

He let you go but kept your hand in his. You started walking again and it took him by surprise that you were going faster than him. So much faster that he had to stretch his arm straight out if he wanted to keep holding your hand.

Reid squeezed your hand to get your attention. You saw his brow raised in question and you returned the squeeze to his hand. “What? I’m going to be mad, too, if we don’t get any appetizers.”

You arrived at the restaurant in no time, half speed-walking, half running the rest of the way there.

Inside the restaurant, the hostess led you upstairs to the room reserved for the department. There were a lot of familiar faces, classmates and professors alike. There were even some kids running around which added more energy to the affair.

Guided by his nose, Reid quickly found the appetizer spread on a table that lined the far wall. The choices were top notch. Egg rolls, hors d’oeuvres, and meat filled phyllo cups all made his mouth water.

And even better than the finger foods were the drinks.

“Am I dreaming? Or are they really serving alcohol here?” He pointed to some people who walked by with bottles of craft beer in hand.

“I guess,” you answered less enthused. You’d been to several conferences by that point and alcohol had been served at all of them. But you didn’t want to bring him down. “You should go see if they have your favorite.”

“I think I will… What do you want me to get you?”

You thought for a second. “I’m feeling like white wine tonight. See if they have any good selections?”

He brought your hand up to his lips to place a gentle peck to your knuckles and promised he’d be back. You shooed him away equal parts thrilled and flustered. Despite most people’s first impression of him, Reid was quite the romantic, and normally you loved him for it, but you could already feel the stares from his display.

Holding your head high, you smiled politely at the onlookers and quickly made your way to a table in the corner with familiar faces. You said hi to your friends and in turn they introduced you to their plus ones. The conversation flowed effortlessly and your table was almost obnoxiously loud in your laughter.

“So where’s the boyfriend? Or did you come by yourself?”

You turned to the body besides you. Ben and you had a friendship that went back to your first semester in the program. The two of you had been in the same orientation session and found that your personalities meshed together well.

You knew that he was genuinely interested in meeting the boy you constantly talked about. Reid, however, walked in at precisely the wrong moment and took the question as a challenge.

“The boyfriend is definitely here.”

Setting down a plate of food and your serving of wine, Reid draped his arm across your shoulders and planted a kiss on you. The use of tongue would’ve been obvious to anyone who watched, including poor Ben.

Breathless, you pulled back and Reid allowed it. He kept his arm where it was and turned to Ben with a hard grin. “Who’s this?”

You cleared your throat as if to wipe the slate clean, like swipe of an eraser on a chalk board. “Reid, this my friend and classmate Benedict. He goes by Ben for short. Ben, this is Reid, my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, we’re basically married,” Reid joked.

You elbowed him under the table and gave him a look. This was nothing for him to be jealous over.

Ben stuck his hand out but rather than shake it, Reid picked up something off of the plate and pushed a small piece into your mouth. His fingers linger on your lips as you chewed the unexpected bite. Your friend slowly lowered his hand, realizing that a hand shake would not be happening.

Unbothered, Reid chatted away. “Do you like it? I knew you would. When I saw they had some, I made sure to get a lot.”

You were put in an awkward position.

On one hand, if you paid too much attention to Ben, Reid was likely to get more territorial. On the other, if you gave into Reid’s posturing, he may feed into it and put on an even bigger air. Not to mention that Ben wasn’t stupid. He probably already figured out that Reid wasn’t a fan.

Yes. You would have to play this very delicately.

“It is really good. Thanks, baby.” He practically preened and continued to feed you. “Hey, Ben? Have you started thinking about your final project for Bird’s class yet?”

The two of you shared your respective plans for a class you were both in, Reid observing with sharp eyes.

“I feel stupid now that I know what you’re doing,” Ben confessed. “You’re so smart. Probably the smartest in our year.”

“Yeah. She is,” Reid answered before you had a chance to speak up. His jaw clenched and he pulled you slightly closer into his chest. The boys stared each other down until Ben abruptly glanced down at his stomach.  

A loud, angry gurgle rang out. Ben looked horrified as he excused himself in a panic, presumably to rush to the nearest bathroom.

“Nice to meet you, Benedict.”

You figured out what was going on when you saw Reid trying to hold his laughter in. You glared at the blonde and he couldn’t control himself any longer. He wiped a tear from his eye he was giggling so hard.

“Are you crazy?” you hissed, trying to keep the volume down despite your anger. “That was totally uncalled for!”

He tried waving it off. “He’ll be fine. The spell wasn’t even a strong one.”

“First, he’s a good friend and only a friend. He didn’t deserve to crap his pants because you got jealous. Second, you promised to stop using so much.”

Still, he insisted, “It’s not a big deal,” as he reached to pick at the food plate.

Not backing down, you took a grape from him and flung it at his face. He rubbed his forehead in frustration.

“Seriously? He’ll be fine in ten, fifteen minutes max. Until then, he can think about how douchey it is to flirt with other people’s girlfriends.”

Flirting? At what point was any of that considered flirting? “Just because someone gives me a compliment, doesn’t mean they’re interested in that way.”

At last he deflated a little. Scratched the back of his neck where skin met blonde locks. “Okay, maaaybe I overreacted…but can you blame me? You’re amazing and I’m just a guy that manages to screw up all the time.”

Reid was a great guy, no question about it, but his self-doubt got the best of him sometimes. Being the “black sheep” of the family and the Sons left him with insecurities that he still worked through. Getting him to admit he was wrong was always half of the battle. Once he did, it was a simple matter of reassuring him.

“Hey,” you said as you stroked the back of his hand. “How many times have we had this talk? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not even for Benedict?” he pouted.

“Not even for Ben,” you answered, pulling him into a hug. “And why are you so hung up on calling him by his full name?”

Reid scoffed. “It’s so pretentious. He definitely comes from old money.”

“Umm, baby, you come from old money. Is that the pot calling the kettle black?”

He muttered so you couldn’t make out what he said.

“Okay, how about we make a deal,” you offered. He lifted his head, seemingly interested. “You apologize for your behavior when Ben comes back—and you’d better call him Ben. You do that and I’ll give you a reward when we get home.”

To show him the kind of reward you meant, you kissed the corner of his mouth, your finger trailing up his thigh. His eyes widened, the black of his pupil dilated in normal, non-magical way. Oh, he was undeniably down to agree to the deal.

You gave hi one last peck. “Now remember: Ben. Not Benedict.”

“I don’t know. Benedict has more of a ring to it—” He stopped mid-sentence when you glared. “Fine. I’ll be nice to Ben.”

He may be a dramatic goof, but he was your dramatic goof. And if he needed a reminder every now and then, along with some tough love, then you were happy to do it.

“Good boy,” you said with a big smile.

_______________

Hopefully I did jealous Reid justice! I haven’t written him in a while so I hope he’s not too off the mark. Older Reid still has childish impulses when he gets jealous but he is mature enough to admit when he’s in the wrong now. And even though Pogue is the head foodie, I think all the boys are big eaters with the magic use and working out. 

Thanks for reading :) 

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 20: Second Assist

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane reunites with friends and family, hashes out some feelings, and gets real with Sy. Can their relationship survive her trauma? And the threat that still looms above them?

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: Mention of rape, alcoholic beverages, violent imagery…feels out the butt.

Author’s Note: You guys are so splendid and beautiful! I can’t thank you enough for your support and encouragement to finish this piece. First, welcome to new readers! I know poor Henry’s injury and subsequent physiotherapy has driven some of you here, and while I’m sorry for him, I’m glad I can consider myself something of a pioneer in this particular genre and provide you some help for your newfound thirst. To my OG readers, it is to you I owe this entire work, parts written and incomplete, and I hope an eventual book deal. I mean to mention you in my acknowledgements, should this ever reach a willing publisher. You’ve inspired me so supremely that I cannot quantify it, even with the words I hold so dear.

Since my last chapter was posted, we’ve said a relieved goodbye to 2020 and a tentative hello to 2021. To be honest, this year has started out worse than last year. Lots of bad weather in my area this winter, my sister is currently on her way to a new life in another state, and my grandmother, the last grandparent I had, passed away in February. Those last two things have been especially difficult to shake off and recover from, both coming to fruition pretty suddenly. Amongst all that, I’ve been pretty distracted by my other fandoms, especially Marvel, and I’ve been reading a killer book series that I’m utterly in love with. (The Throne of Glass novels by Sarah J. Maas. 10/10 recommend.) But I knew I needed to get back into Shane and Sy’s story, especially given the new and rekindled interest in the subject matter. In all honesty, I’ve had most of it written for months. It’s just been a matter of finishing it off to set up the rest of the story.

I really hope you all enjoy Chapter 20, Second Assist, and would love your feedback and notes. You are all so important to this story, and your notes, reblogs, and comments are cherished. Thank you so much for reading! Love from Hannah!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

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X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Shane woke in her warm bed, late morning sun streaming in through her sheer curtains, the heavier drapes parted to let in the light. She wished she'd remembered to close them before now. She really was not ready to be awake.

She was sore. Achy. Her sleep had been fitful and full of shadowy nightmares and muffled screams. Beyond that, she didn't try to remember images or events. She knew the general premise of the dreams. It would take a lot of time, effort, or a miracle to make her forget those traumas she'd been through in the last week. Not even forget. She knew she never would. But move on from them. Accept them. And heal from them…even that seemed a mighty obstacle. One she was not sure she could surmount.

Through the open bedroom door, she could hear Lynyrd Skynyrd and the clanging and sizzling of pans, and she could smell bacon and freshly brewed coffee. Sy had left the room, but had not, it seemed, gone far. She gingerly sat up, stood from the bed, and donned her robe as she walked out into the hall and down the corridor to the kitchen.

The sight before her warmed her heart. There was Sy. In only his boxers, daringly frying the notoriously dangerous breakfast meat. Upon her entry to the kitchen, she could also smell pancakes, and she thought syrup, as well. He seemed to be warming a bottle of the maple unction in a pot of hot water. He turned as she stepped on a squeaky floorboard, and grinned widely at her.

"Mornin' sunshine." And she was struck by the irony of someone with such a radiant smile calling her sunshine. Especially when she didn't feel much like beaming. But she couldn't help return the expression, even through her pain.

"Mornin' bear. Did you go to the store?" She knew she couldn't have any bacon in her fridge, and she doubted her eggs and milk were still good at this point. But she also couldn't think that he would leave her for any reason.

"Nah, some of the guys brought over some provisions. Matt worked on your car all night, too, and filled up the tank. It's as good as new. He and Nate brought ‘er over as well as the groceries. I just had ‘em get stuff I knew your family wouldn't be bringing later. They've had tons of food given to them this week, and they're ready to share. You should have seen your mom loading me down with sandwiches and chips and whatnot when I visited them."

"I still can't believe you met them. I really wanted to introduce you personally." Shane's face fell. She would never be able to get that back. She wanted to cry. Sy had poured her a cup of coffee and sat it in front of her with her favorite creamer.

"Darlin' I’m so sorry. I had to talk to them."

"I know." she sniffed. "I'm not mad. Not at you. Just…"she didn't want to say Elliott's name. "I'm disappointed that the experience was stolen from me." That so many things had been stolen from her. By that monster. There was no other way to describe him. Sy growled. As if he could read her mind. He really just knew her well enough and shared her thoughts.

"Well, don't worry, we'll have a nice dinner with them one of these days, and we can pretend. Sound good?"

"Yeah, and I can feign nervousness." she laughed.

"And I'll pretend too. That I'm scared to meet your dad." he chuckled. "What if he threatens me with his shotgun?"

"I'll pull the ol' 'Daddy, no, I loooooove him!' line, as I throw myself between you!"

"That oughta work." he laughed and kissed her on the forehead as he stepped toward the stove and flipped a pancake.

As they sat eating their late breakfast, Shane's mind wandered. Nothing had changed on the surface, but everything was different now. This cozily mundane breakfast with her boyfriend felt like an out of body experience. As delicious as it was, as wonderful and comforting as it should feel, her guard was up. Even through her amiable façade. She was not the person she was two weeks ago. She was not the same woman who said goodbye to Sy at the base. Maybe that was the real transformation. Maybe that was why nothing felt normal. It wasn't the world, but her own self coming back into it.

"Shane?" Sy asked, gently, but it felt like he was speaking through a megaphone directly into her ear. She was so startled, she nearly dropped the half full mug of coffee that was paused midway to her lips. A bit sloshed out onto the table and splashed her shirt.

"Shit!" she chided herself. It wasn't a big deal, but she felt stupid jumping at the sound of her own name.

Sy reached for the closest towel, hanging from the oven handle, grabbed it and started for her clothes with it. She stopped him. But she couldn't think about why the intimate act made her uncomfortable.

"No, don't, it's fine. These clothes have seen better days, anyway." She pulled the towel from him and began to mop up the small puddles of coffee around her plate.

Sy seemed to note the stains already present on the shirt, as if trying to divine their history. She was something of a messy eater, so the battle wounds of many a barbecue, spaghetti dinner, and hurried breakfast peppered the now off-white SATB club tee she'd gotten her second or third year in college choir. She thought back to a huge room with high ceilings. White, cinder block walls, flecked tile floors, a beautiful, glossy, black baby grand in front of a long whiteboard with black lines to resemble sheet music. She thought about the mnemonic device she'd learned to help her remember what notes appeared on each line, and in the spaces between them. She pondered the deeper meanings and implications of these devices. EGBDF…every good boy does fine. She thought about the "good boys" in her life. She knew many. Her dad, her brother Ethan, Sy, obviously, her many male coworkers and friends…and honestly they did far better than "fine." They were wonderful. But she was letting the "bad boys" she'd encountered dictate her mood. Permeate her psyche. Tear her down. She didn't want to be like this. Then FACE came to mind, and above their purpose of indicating the notes between the lines on the staff, they called her to action. To face these newly minted demons with all the strength she knew she possessed, and she too would "do fine." But as with almost all actions, this was easier said than done.

She felt a warm presence on her left hand which had paused it's torture of the now coffee-infused kitchen towel. Sy's hand was squeezing hers gently.

"Shane." he uttered, barely above a whisper this time. She looked at him through tears that she had not realized had formed. He continued.

"Shane, what can I do, darlin'? I'll do anything."

"Babe, you're doing everything you can, and more. This…this is all going to have to come from me. I…don't know when I'll be myself again…" she paused, tears streaming now. "I'm…I'm different."

"You're not though." he reached for her face, but she pulled away.

"I am, damn it! Sy, I was…" Words had power. And the one she was thinking of had more power than she thought was warranted. She knew that uttering it would take away it's power…and yet mustering the courage and strength to actually do so…seemed impossible. She took a deep breath, and disassociated herself from the statement, even though it was about her own past.

"I was raped." She refused to cry. She felt it all again. She had never said the words. She had never thought it necessary. Everyone understood. Sy, his friends, and she was sure her own loved ones had made the connection. But she knew she needed to say it now to drive home the points she was about to make.

Sy, looked at the table, nodding, not needing to be told in so many words something he already had surmised from the clear evidence. He remained silent. She went on.

"I love you, Sy. I have since the day we met, on one level or another, and I believe that I always will. But I…right now I can't be a proper girlfriend to you. I can't…be with you, touch you, be touched by you, in the way we used to be. In the way you deserve…and I don't know when…or even if…I ever will. Not that I don't want to. That's ALL I want in the world. To go back. To be the woman who fell in love with this…incredible man. To make love with you, but…I can't."

Sy's eyes were full of tears, their predecessors already descending his round cheeks and disappearing into his thick, dark beard.

"Sy, I don't want to lead you on and keep you tied to a relationship with no life in it. You deserve someone who's whole. Someone who can be a fully invested partner for you, and not this broken, damaged--"

"You stop that, Shane. I won't hear no more of this kinda talk. Y'hear? You're my girl. My woman. My person. No matter what. You gotta know I'd never leave ya just cuz you aren't ready for sex again. You don't think that I would, do ya?"

"Well, you went to Virginia…you took that job…knowing the distance it would put between us. Literally and figuratively."

"Biggest mistake of my life." Shane raised her eyebrows in surprise as Sy elaborated. "I couldn't focus on my classes without wishing you were there. Wishing I could team up with you for discussions and hand to hand combat training…that thought got me a little too excited, if you catch my drift." He smirked, pulling a sheepish smile from Shane. "Then in that forest. I dreamt about you every night. I thought of you constantly. I could barely breath sometimes, I missed ya so damned much. I was an idiot. I was insane to think that I needed anything other than you. Any MORE. There IS no more. You're it. You're the MOST! The most important thing in my life."

The declaration hung like vapors in the air, more felt than seen. Tangible yet ethereal.

"And when I found out that you were missing…I was…well, I think I looked like death…and not warmed over. You can ask the program director I met with after I got the news. She could tell I was just sick over it. And as I thought about it on the way home, pieced things together, started thinking about who'd taken you, I got murderous. Shane, I have been in dozens of battles, skirmishes, firefights, you name it. War. But…the sheer bloodlust I felt thinking about what you could be going through…I've never experienced anything like it. Everything was red. Everything. For days. Until I saw you, alive. And then it went red again when I saw the fear and damage on your face." she could tell he was doing his best not to talk about the farmhouse and that basement, but she still flashed back to the moments before and after his appearance there. The moments when she simultaneously prayed to live and hoped to die.

"You don't owe me anything, Shane. I just want you in my life, and I don't care what your presence looks like. Romantic, platonic, or somewhere in between. I'm here for you. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Shane felt the urge to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, but could not seem to move more than one arm to place her other hand on top of his. She hoped the gratitude and love behind the small, but heartfelt gesture landed. It was all she had in that moment, no matter how abundant her affection.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shane's family's arrival was a complete blur to her. It was joyous, tearful, and the happiest she'd been in a long time. The moment she opened the front door for them, she was surrounded, engulfed with hugs from her parents and siblings. They stood in their affectionate huddle for several moments before Peg waved Sy over with marked insistence. He'd been standing by, observing happily, but not wanting to intrude on the familial reunion.

When they finally dispersed, John asked the two younger men to help him bring in groceries. The women headed into Shane's bedroom for a more private setting in which to talk. Shane filled her mother and sister in the best she could given the rawness of the wounds left on her mind by the events.

She leaned against the headboard cuddling with Gabby while her mom rubbed her feet. She had insisted on doing this thing that had always comforted her children, and made them feel much better when they were younger.

"Well, I'm very proud of you, pumpkin." The girls both looked at their mother, who rather uncharacteristically hadn't spoken in some time. Shane was nonplussed. Peg elaborated.

"You survived something that many women don't. You're talking about it now, which even more women don't. You may think you're broken, but you're just a tree damaged by a storm, but standing stronger than ever." Trust her mom to lay such wisdom on her. When she felt like giving up. When she just wanted pity. When she could only see defeat. Her mother had always found a way to encourage and buoy her and show her the victory.

"Mom's right." Gabby affirmed, and it was Peg's turn to be nonplussed, as the two women, though similar in so many ways, never seemed to see eye to eye. "It's true. Shane I've seen a lot of women come into the clinic in shoes very much like yours. And trust me…some of them…they don't make it to this point. You've got a long way to go before you're fully recovered, don't get me wrong, but you'll get there. You have us. And you have Sy."

"And then there's Sy." She diverted. "How am I supposed to plan any sort of future with him when…" She looked at her mom, and hesitated. Peg rolled her eyes.

"Shane, I know what the two of you get up to when you're alone. You don't have to be shy with me."

"Still…" she took a breath and spoke. "When I can't bring myself to…sleep with him?"

"Look at him, you're kidding, right?" Gabby chided, insensitively, but recanted at the pained expression on Shane's face. "Sorry, sis. Trying to lighten the mood a touch. Too soon. But seriously, I don't think this reluctance you feel will be permanent."

"And even if it is," Peg took over, "that man is out-of-his-mind in love with you, Shaney." She kissed Shane's toe before putting a sock on her foot. "He almost seems to worship you. Now, you know how I feel about using that term outside of religious context, but that is exactly the kind of love I want for you. Devout, and unconditional."

"But, mom, I can't--"

"Did you hear me? I said 'unconditional,' sweetie." Peg interrupted. "No matter what. No matter the obstacle. No matter the distance. No matter the circumstances. Love unwavering. That's what Sy has for you. I've seen it in him. Trust the momma."

The insistence her mother placed on trust had always ruffled Shane's feathers. Gabby's too, who she could feel stiffen slightly beside her. But Shane, for once, really wanted to trust her mother, hoping against hope that she was right. And that she, herself  wouldn't screw up the best relationship she had ever been in or was likely to ever be in again.

The girls had begun talking about some of the coworkers who'd brought food in the past week, and Peg couldn't resist remarking on the character of her favorites and judging the ones she didn't care for…oddly enough, getting more or less, the correct measure of them, as Shane saw it.

After what must have been an hour from the time they'd arrived, they heard a knock on the slightly ajar bedroom door. John poked his head in.

"Ladies, we've put a casserole in the oven, and completed various manly projects around the house--"

"Oh, daddy, what projects?" She cringed. She hated that the men had felt the need to "fix" things.

"Babe, your guest bathroom had not one, but two leaky faucets, your kitchen table seemed to be more of a teeter-totter, and half the light bulbs in the living room were out. Among other tiny things. You're welcome." he smirked his crooked smirk so similar to her own, and she returned it as if he was looking in a mirror.

"Thanks, dad."

"Anyway, lunch is almost ready. So, when you've finished your confab, let's eat."

Dinner passed amiably, Shane found a reserve within herself to allow some quasi-normal behavior, as long as you didn’t look too closely. She was talking animatedly with her siblings, making their parents and Sy laugh riotously. Shane noticed some odd looks passing between Sy and her father, but chalked it up to paranoia. She wished at least Gabby and Ethan could stay, but Heather would be over soon, and she deserved her own dedicated time. Shane wanted to give that to her.

She said her farewells to her family with promises to visit them the next day, and at least one more time before her siblings went back home, if she could work it out.

Sy was so wonderful the whole time. Standing by her, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder as they waved goodbye to the departing vehicle. He made her feel so safe. They went into the kitchen and cleaned up from lunch. Well, Sy cleaned. Shane was texting Heather about when she'd be over.

"Heather says she'll be here in about a half hour. She's picking up wine and pizza." Shane told Sy without looking up from her phone. She could see out of the corner of her eye, though, that he had just closed the dishwasher and was selecting a cycle.

"Sounds great. Do you want me to get out of here? Give you guys some time, one on one?" He asked as he dried his hands, wet from preparing dishes for the machine.

She thought about it, and shuddered. She played a scene in her head that startled her. In her mind's eye, she saw Sy leave and then moments later heard a knock on the door. Presuming it was Heather, she opened the door with abandon, only to see Elliott standing there under a flickering porch light, smirking maliciously at her and ready to overpower and abduct her again. She shook the thought from her head, but remained uneasy as she answered his question.

"Uh, no. Thanks. I'm sure she'll want to talk to both of us. She likes you." Shane grinned softly at Sy in an attempt to mask her trepidation over the thought of him leaving her alone for any period of time. She thought it had worked.

"Okay, well, whatever you think, sunshine. I don't wanna get in the way." He was wiping down the countertops. She felt so impossibly full of love for him, she was starting to wonder how she hadn't yet burst with it. She couldn't bear the thought of holding him back from a fulfilling relationship. He deserved everything she couldn't give him right now. And she knew she should make him leave her. Cut him loose. But she was, as she'd been since she'd met him, a weak woman. She couldn't stand the thought of being without him. Of him no longer being hers. And somehow worse, of not being his, herself. She would always need him for so many reasons, not least of which being her love for him. Maybe one day, she'd recover from this trauma, and be able to be who he deserved. To give him what he needed.

"You're never in the way, bear." She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed him as tight as she could. He placed a loving hand over hers, sighing and smiling, though she had no visual proof of the latter. It was just a feeling.

Heather's greeting was no less exuberant than that of Shane's family, but it was more joyful and less emotional, even though she was immensely relieved to see her best friend after so long. They talked as if no time had passed, and Shane mustered up the dregs of her former self to have one more interaction for the day. Thank God it was Heather and not someone who would require more. She wouldn't have it to give.

"I am so glad you're okay, Shane! Things around the clinic have been bleak as fuck. Susan is loosing her mind, Anita is beside herself with concern, and the rest of us just plain ol' miss the hell out of you. And not just because of all of the overtime everyone has been pulling to get your patients seen."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize…wow, I'm awful. I didn't even think---"

"That you'd be missed? Think again, sister. The place would fall apart if you ever really left. But don't feel guilty. It's the least everyone can do, and they've all said it themselves. We all love you, and know that you'd do the same for any of us if you could at all. Hopefully you won't have to, though!"

Shane nodded, eyes wide in agreement. She wouldn't wish the last week of her life on her worst enemy. On the worst person in the world. Except maybe the people responsible. Tit for tat.

"Well, I'm sorry my absence has caused extra work for all of you." Shane looked into the deep glass of Chardonnay Sy had poured her from the bottle Heather had brought. She felt about as small as the air bubble making it's way up the sloping curve of the stemless vessel. She felt a guilt that she knew was fully void of logic. It made no sense for her to feel guilt for being kidnapped. But she had always had this notion, this nagging voice in her head that told her that her misfortunes were a direct result of her decisions. That she'd inadvertently stepped on the butterfly that resulted in the monsoon she was currently experiencing, and whatever cataclysmic events she would face next.

"Why in God's name are you apologizing for this, Shay?" Heather's tone was kind, but still mildly scolding.

"If I'd never been with Elliott, none of this would have--"

"Bitch, are you a fortune teller?"

"No, but--"

"Soothsayer?"

"No."

"Time traveler?"

"I wish!" Shane chuckled. But she really did wish.

"Have you any real and proven success at consistently predicting the future?"

"I don't, but--"

"No. No buts. No howevers. You had no idea what becoming involved with Elliott could have done. Were there signs, sure. But you can't look on the past as a rubric to judge the quality of your decisions. You know that. You can only learn from your mistakes. And you have."

"Heather's right, sunshine. You really have learned. You look for Elliott's behaviors in mine and shut me down quick if you see 'em. You're not going to let yourself go down that road again. And I'm proud of you for it."

Shane silently worried her wine glass. It was hard to argue with such truth. But it was hard to agree when her own feelings were in such stark opposition. So she did neither.

"Well, I've preached my sermon for the day." she laughed. "I've taken up enough of your time. Oh, your phone. It's in my purse. I think it's fully charged, but I turned it off."

Shane thanked her friend, then Heather hugged them both and took her leave.

"Y'okay, bug?" Sy asked her after what she surmised was several minutes of silence. Minutes she didn't notice as they passed.

"Mmm…" she trailed off.

"Can I do something for ya?" And she really thought about the question. He could probably do a lot of things for her. He could make love to her until she felt whole again, even if it hurt her at first. Not an ideal option. He could probably get them both some new identities and enough money to spirit her away to somewhere her past wouldn't follow. If she became someone new, literally, would she have to bring that old baggage, those old scars, with her? Again, suboptimal. But he could definitely take the source of all grief and turmoil in her life far into the Missouri back country, somewhere not even the hunters would venture, some fallow field or forgotten cistern, and end him. Snuff out his spark of life like a candle caught in a tornado. Spill a fatal amount of his monstrous blood onto the unforgiving earth and send him to the Hell to which he was undoubtedly destined. But did she want that? Did she want another soul as a scar on that of the man she so deeply cherished? He'd say it was worth it. He'd say he'd take a thousand more for her. A million. That was Sy.

"Nothing comes to mind." She lied. And he knew it was a lie, but didn't push it. She was so grateful that he respected her, not for the lie itself, but for the reason she wasn't giving him the whole truth just now.

His phone went off and he picked it up as he stood from his seat at the table. She could only hear that it was Matt, the guy she thought she understood had the car place, before she heard tension in Sy's voice. Even from the next room, she could tell something was wrong, though he was talking too quietly for her to make out words.

She heard him suddenly shout a stream of profanities that he rarely said at all around her, at least, let alone together. There was a bang, and the walls of her kitchen quaked like the tectonic plates beneath them were shifting.

Sy walked back in, his face was red, as were his knuckles. He was shaking an injury out of his hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked, deep concern at his appearance and demeanor, suddenly ominous.

"I need to fix your wall in there." he grumbled, evading, without success. She'd be doing therapy on his hand, next.

"What's really wrong?" she repeated, sternly.

"That was Matt. Elliott's…escaped, somehow. He's in the wind."

Shane's heart became so heavy, she could almost feel it smashing through the kitchen floor and burying itself deep in the cement floor of her basement.

"Oh, God! No! What if he goes to the police!?"

"Fuck that, I'm more concerned about him coming after you!"

The two stared, faces full of equal measures of concern for the other.

Up Next: Chapter 21-Patient Education

[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 3

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5860 Archive of our own

Warning : Exhibitionism / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control/ Stranger / Flirting / Edging / Orgasm denial / Orgasm delay / Oral innuendo … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 -

Once I made my way to the living room, I stopped behind the couch and observed the scene unfolding in front of me, unsure of how to start the conversation with the intimidating man on my couch. If he’s Luffy’s friend, he must be alright, right? Giving him a once over, from what I could see, I saw he was tattooed all over his arms and hands. His ears were decorated with a few golden earrings which only added to the charm. Maybe I could start with that?

Walking around the couch, I could feel the vibration inside me at every step and had to keep a straight face until I slumped on the couch next to the stranger. Crossing my legs, I was going to lean my head on the back of the couch but felt his arm and straightened my back before saying, “So you’re the mysterious food benefactor of the night?” He turned around and raised a brow, smirking.

 “And you’re the free loader?” Why was the way he said it so hot? I pondered internally. I was taken aback and suddenly wanted to yell at Nami for telling me it’d be ok. With a huff, and slightly warm cheeks, I quickly answered, with composure, “Tell me what I owe you, and I’ll pay my part. And, take the cap off inside. You look shady.” I huffed the last part as I glanced at the white hat on his head.

 With the hand that was next to my shoulder, he slowly removed his hat and was going to place it on my head, but I grabbed it and dropped it next to him. “How much?” I repeated again, talking about the food.

“Nothing, at least now she’ll stop telling me I owe her. Which I don’t, by the way.” He explained, his gaze turned to Nami with a slight scowl. I mumbled a thank you.

 There was something intimidating in his demeanor, even if you ignored the tattoos all over his arms. Sure, he was dressed casually, a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans but the way he carried himself threw me off. “Right, so, if you don’t owe her, why is she mad then?” I asked. I was going to sit tailor-style while waiting for the three others to finish preparing everything, when I felt the egg move inside and arched my back suddenly.

 I quickly got hold of myself, I cleared my throat and looked at the man with an apologetic smile. He seemed curious, but did not say anything. Instead, his eyes observed me intently. “I won a bet. She does not like losing money, and she’s still mad about it.”

“It makes sense,” I hummed, this time crossing my arms over my chest. The conversation was probably over, I did not know what else to ask.

 I still did not know his name, but I felt like it was a bit too late to ask. He does not seem too arrogant for now, I thought, very hot, and domineering but not annoying. Lost deep in thought, I suddenly felt something touch my shoulder and look at it to see the man’s hand nudging me. Startled, I contracted my abdomen, which only made me even more aware of what I had started before coming here.

 “You look tensed, are you good?” He asked in a, surprisingly, caring tone. I laughed nervously and nodded, uncrossing my leg to look more relaxed than I actually was. A very very bad choice, whenever I’d move, I could feel the toy inside me and the knot in my stomach grow. “I’m great, great. So uh-“ I pointed at his hands, “Bold choice.”

“I suppose it is.” He hummed, not convinced with my answer.

 “It’s hot, don’t get me wrong but I don’t think employers are fond of it. Doesn’t it make it harder to find a job?” We were interrupted when Robin handed us our plates, asking us if this was our order. I nodded and took it from her hand before putting the plate on my lap and thanked the black-haired friend for paying then waited for him to take his plate. I thought we’d eat in silence, observing the people in front of us, when he spoke up.

 “That’s where wearing gloves come in handy.” He chuckled, taking of forkful of his food before continuing. My mind reacted at the mention of gloves, I remembered the picture HandSurgeon sent this morning and it only make the throbbing between my leg, stronger. “But patients don’t really care about the tattoos, they can’t be picky with who’s cutting them open, can they?” He stated dryly.

 I looked back at him with wide eyes, not expecting such a dry reply. Then let out a nervous laugh, before genuinely laughing. “I was definitely not expecting that answer. But you’re not wrong.” I said with a small smile, “I suppose the pretty face balances the threatening aura, and the tattoos.” God why did I say that. I played it off and looked at the three people at the low table, shoving as much food as I could to stop myself from spurting embarrassing shit.

 But it did not deter my tongue who seemed to have a will on its own, the man and I spoke at the same time. “So, you’re a doctor?” “Threatening aura?”

I choked on some small bite of food that stuck in my throat and grabbed the glass of water the man handed me. I was going to chug it down but he made a gesture for me to calm down, and drink slowly. While I did, he chuckled, “I work in the medical field, yes. But Nami forbids me to talk about it, maybe another time-“

 “That’s right!” She ruffled his hair as she stood up with her empty plate, “No work-talk under my roof! Find yourself someone to spend time with instead of spending all your time at the hospital-“ Nami, who had interrupted the man, got interrupted in return when he told her he got it, that he’d stop mentioning his work but in return she’ll have to stop saying he had to find a partner. She just grumbled and returned to her conversation with Luffy and Robin.

 Once I had calmed down, I handed him his glass back and watched him take a sip from it while looking at me straight in the eyes. His already messy hair looked worse after Nami had ruffled it, but he looked good. Perhaps it was because I was aroused, but I felt a certain tension when he did so. He may not have done it on purpose, but I couldn’t find the strength to look away. I stared right back at him, my hand gripping my fork tight when I clenched my wall around the egg, feeling a sudden pleasure. Fuck, this is not how I thought the night would go. But you asked for it, echoed my made-up voice of HandSurgeon in my head.

 I masked the gasp that left my mouth by voicing a “Ahhh” of understanding then continued, “Very hot of you to, I assume, have graduated medical school.” Why couldn’t I just say it was great, or awesome? Why did I have to say it was hot? I had to take a deep breath and calm down.

 “Glad to know hot and threatening can coexist.” He said with a lighter tone as he put his now empty plate on the arm of the couch before leaning ever so lightly towards me. “Tell me, do you often flirt with stranger you find threatening?”

The speed at which my brain reminded me of HandSurgeon surprised me, I did a lot of things with strangers, so, why not flirt? But I hadn’t really flirt with Luffy’s friend, right?

 “Did I flirt, now? Haha. Sorry for the unsolicited advances, but you’re right, I should have asked your name first.” I said half-jokingly, meeting his intense gaze for the first time since he leaned over a bit too much now. To push him to introduce himself, I set my plate down and put my hand in front of me, for him to shake, and told him my name.

 It’s with reluctance that he wrapped his large hand around mine and shook it, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Doctor Trafalgar Law.” He did not let go right away. Instead, he observed my reaction. I rolled my eyes but smiled nonetheless, “The title is a bit too much, isn’t it? I mean… you did put the effort of studying a few years, I suppose, but I won’t address you as Doctor. Doc, at best, but-“

He seemed ticked off for a second but masked it and said, “Law is fine, but I put a lot more than a few years into that degree.”

 “True, money too, and from what I gathered you also put in the price of a romantic life, am I right?” I blinked a few times, realizing that I either flirted or said something not appropriate. No in between. And it was the result of his pretty face, it made me nervous.

 He looked at me up and down a few times then smirked, “That doesn’t mean I don’t fuck.” My breath hitched and I look anywhere but at him, instead choosing to focus on the way his tattooed fingers were splayed over his jeans, tapping from time to time. For a moment, I could imagine those hands gripping me tight, the blue color of his jeans being too close to the color of HandSurgeon’s scrubs only made it worse. I was starting to feel hot all over, I had to calm down and keep things casual.

 The fuck am I averting my eyes for? Reminding myself to not be a little bitch, I looked at him once more. My stomach churned when I saw he was still staring at me. He must have seen my intent glare at his hands, hopefully he did not think I was judging him. The exact opposite was going in my head, I wanted those hands to work their way on my skin, gently gliding on my inner thighs. For fuck sake, clear your thoughts, I reprimanded myself the best I could but staying next to Law only worsened things.

 “Good for you, good for you. A good fuck’s always nice, right?” I laughed nervously, “But since you’re so keen on bringing such a topic, I have a serious question here,” Was it really serious? No, it was definitely to satiate my curiosity but the way his brows quirked at my words made me feel things.

“Go ahead.”

“Do doctors have doctor kink, like- the whole nurse outfit, or… being called Doctor in a very very sexy way?” I did not expect the laugh that came from his throat. It surprised the rest of the people around who turned around and looked at us surprised.

 Law did not pay them any mind; he placed his hands on his knee and made a pensive face. “That’s the first question that comes in your mind when someone tells you they work in the medical field?” He inquired, his tone a lot lower than before.

 “I said no work-talk Traff’!” Nami said from her spot. Law groaned and threw her a deadly glare, “Stop with the nickname, and we’re not talking about work. Mind your own business.” I’ll never admit it out loud, but I thoroughly enjoyed his bossy tone, or was it annoyed? When he returned his attention to me, he sighed.

 “Hey I’m sure it’s everyone’s first thought, right?” I was trying to lighten the tension, to make it more fun, but he was keen on keeping it the way it was. Moving his hand back on the back of the couch, there was a smug smile on his face as his hand graze my neck. I tensed but did not move, it was probably not done on purpose.

 “It’s not. I get ask a lot of things, not this. I’d like to know what else you’re thinking about right now.” He breathed the last part in what I could only describe as seductive. This was too much, with his hand brushing the nape of my neck, his flirty attitude and the constant vibration inside me I quickly stood up. “Be right back, I uh- I need to do something- I’ll share my train of thought after! Promised!” He was startled and looked at me confused, but I did not care, I rushed back to my room and pulled out my phone.

 Edelweiss: Still alive and I really need to get off. I did not expect there to be certain people and it has some effect. Clearly.

Edelweiss: Are you still busy?

Edelweiss: sir.

 I paced the room, covering my mouth when a gasp escaped my throat from the sensation. I hated this, why did I suggest this, this is not fun. I want to touch myself; I want to get this tension out of my body. No, I need to. But this was clearly not happening. I considered doing it, even though HandSurgeon had told me not to, but reconsidered when I imagined the fun it would be tonight. Luckily, I did not have time to think more as my phone vibrated.

 HandSurgeon: Some effect?

Edelweiss: don’t play dumb, he’s like… he kind of has your vibe, the hot vibe and it does not help at all with my predicament…

HandSurgeon: Check the attitude first. Now, we’re talking about the same predicament you asked to be in, right? The one you desperately begged to be in? The one you are clearly enjoying more than you thought you would, that same one? I think you put yourself in that situation, and you’ll get through it like the good girl I know you want to be.

HandSurgeon: It would be a shame to go back home, and see a message from you, telling me you caved and touched yourself. I’d be disappointed.

 Groaning, I let myself fall on my bed and brought my phone close to my face. I read his words a few more times before replying.

 Edelweiss: so you’ll be here tonight… sir?

HandSurgeon: If my evening does not stretch out, I’ll be sure to have fun with you.

HandSurgeon: If you’re good, of course. I like my fucktoy obedient and eager. Which you are, correct?

 I had to take a second look at the name he gave me, I had yet to decide if I enjoyed it or not. But as I read it again, I was leaning towards it being positive. But should I make it easy?

 Edelweiss: I’m not your fucktoy though, sir.

HandSurgeon: Hold onto that thought, we’ll see what you’ll say after tonight. I’ll ask again, and I’m fairly certain the answer will be different, dear.

HandSurgeon: Now, I have to leave, don’t force yourself if you feel like it’s too much.

HandSurgeon: But imagine how sensitive you’ll be tonight; how good it’ll feel when you’ll fuck yourself just for me. Your toy filling you just right, the burning sensation of your walls stretching… Putting on a show just for me…

Edelweiss: I get it, I get it… don’t make me imagine it too much or I won’t hold on until the end of the evening 😔

HandSurgeon: You will. See you tonight.

 Seeing as the conversation had ended, I sat back up and shoved my phone in my back pocket. Talking to him had not help, at all. The pressure in my lower stomach had only grown, but I had to make do and keep socializing at least until Luffy and Law left.

 Now standing up, I checked in the mirror if I had any darker spot from how wet I was and was relieved to see nothing. I had to hype myself to join everyone again, and once I did, they were all sitting around the low table, Law included. They did not pay any mind to my return, except Robin who patted the spot between her and Law, smiling. Returning the smile, I shuffled their way and sat down. I made sure to sit on my foot to get more comfortable.

 Maybe to get some friction too from time to time. Or to make sure the egg did not slip out, could it even? Shaking my thoughts away, I focused back on the conversation happening and realized I was being talked to. “I’m sorry, could you repeat?” I said softly.

 “Where did you hurry off to?” Robin asked gently, Nami followed with more snark, “Yeah, you had Traff’ here worried. I’d run too if he was making some adv-“ Seeing how annoyed Law seemed to become when Nami teased him like that, I interrupted her with a polite smile.

“I remembered I had to send an assignment, but it’s done now! I’m single and ready to mingle- or like just, to party. I’m not- yeah I’ll…” I made a zipping motion with my hand over my mouth and poured myself a drink when the conversation resumed without a hitch.

 Law who was leaning back, his hands on the ground behind his back, observed all my actions without a word. At this point it was clear he wasn’t listening to the conversation right in front of him. I turned his way with a scowl and hissed in a hushed tone, “What do you want?”

 It seemed to put a smile on his face as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees now. “Still curious of your thoughts, and even more curious of why you lied. But you’re not going to tell me the latter.” He huffed a laugh, “Not yet, at least.” His confidence could now be qualified as arrogance, I had a hard time distinguishing them from one another. Turning around to face him, I discretely moved my heel to get some friction and took a rapid breath.

 Choosing to ignore the fact that he assumed, correctly so, that I lied, I mimicked his posture. Resting my chin on my hand. “Then ask me what you want to know, I live to satiate your curiosity doc.” I said sarcastically. For some reason, he made a weird face for the span of a few seconds. He was quick to get a hold of himself and smirked. “Careful, I might just use that eagerness of yours.”

 I held back from widening my eyes in surprise, maybe even smile. I liked it, it was strange how easy it was for him to make my stomach churn in need, but I enjoyed it a lot. Giving him a half-smile, I hummed inquisitively, “What if I say I’d like that?” I regretted my words instantly, and was about to lean back when Law said in a low tone, “Then I’d be sure to give you my number to settle a date.”

 Looking at him with wide eyes, I couldn’t help but be flattered and smiled stupidly. “We barely know each other, sir. I believe buying someone dinner first is the tradition.” I said humorously. I was trying to back out of this, I don’t know why but the fact that he met all my expectations frightened me for a moment.

 He scoffed in response and leaned back, putting his hand forward, palm up. I quirked a brow and put my hand on his, only for him wrap it around mine and pull me towards him, “I was asking for your phone.” He whispered before letting go. I quickly pulled my hand back and frowned, masking my embarrassment by saying, “Well, you could have been clearer. Maybe use your words? That’d be interesting too, it does avoid me doing looking like an idiot.”

 Smirking, he huffed a laugh once more and said, “I could have, but then you wouldn’t have done that.” He then pulled out his phone and handed it to me, a new contact ready to be filled. “And you looked kind of cute.” Law continued, his brows raised as he glanced down at his phone for me to take. I took it with a grumble, not knowing what to answer. So, I typed in my number and let my thumbs hover over the name. “I’m really thinking of a joke here, for my name.”

 With my fingers tapping the back of the phone, I hummed in thought. “It’ll be the thing that appears on your phone when you’re working, so…” After saying that, he gently snatched it from my hand and shook his head. “You’re right, I’d rather you did not do something childish.”

I had to put my drink down to give him an incredulous look, “Funny, not childish. But I suppose my full name makes just as much sense.” I rolled my eyes with a smile.

 Maybe it was happening too fast, but we could get to know one another on those dates. If that’s what he had in mind. If not, I was not against having him as booty call, not when he looked this hot. When I felt my phone vibrate, I suddenly felt all excited. My brain thought for a second it was HandSurgeon, then the penny dropped and I saw an unknown number had texted me “Trafalgar Law.” Looking up at him, I quirked a brow.

 “Very uncreative for a first text. I’ll send a better one, then you can call me childish.” I then proceeded to send him an eggplant, a droplet and the two eyes emojis. The disappointment in his eyes was priceless, I snorted ungracefully which earned me another raised brow from the handsome doctor. “Because that is better? If you want something, I’m sure you can use words instead of emojis, try again.” He told me with a smug smile. My walls clenched around the toy inside me, his demeanor having a pleasing yet unwanted effect on me.

 It felt wrong. We were just discussing, our friends around us, and I was getting off. I was finding pleasure in all of this, my skin being more and more sensitive as time went on. “You’re the one who had questions, I don’t have much to say, really.” I shrugged, focusing on saving his number under the name The fuckable doctor friend. Proud of it, I showed him and he rolled his eyes, telling me to change it to his full name. “Hey, you say ‘use my words’. I say ‘it speaks for itself’.”

 Making a gesture to come close, he brough his hand between our face in a way people do when they exchange a secret. Then he said, “I thought you wanted to go on a date first, but you seem to clearly be needing a fuck to clear your thoughts.” I suddenly turn to face him, he was looking down at me with half-lidded eyes and a cocky smile. Our faces were very close, if I wanted to, I could lean in and press our lips together, I could push him down and-

 “Hey, hey, hey guys, how about you keep that for like- let’s say, a time when we’re not all here? I could almost cut the tension with a knife!!” Nami said as she put a hand on both our chest, separating us with a nervous laugh. She then looked at me with a frown and hissed, “I thought you had better taste than that-“ “I wouldn’t know, you didn’t even let me get a taste.” I shrugged.

Looking to the side, I saw a surprised look on Law’s face quickly followed by a proud smile and a short laugh. “He’s no good,”

 “I think a lot of people would say differently, they often thank me for not being able to walk the next day which says a lot.” He said casually, giving Nami the cockiest look ever.

I was turned on so bad from what he had said, from the attitude too, while Nami just looked at him with an unfazed expression. “Right, you hardly get free time Traff. I don’t think your conquests list is that long, but it’s great you believe it.”

 His laugh was enough to cut the conversation short. He was not going to argue back, there was no need to, but he was still slightly annoyed. “Damn Nami, you seem pretty invested in his sex life. Maybe you should find someone-“ She interrupted me with bright cheeks, “Shut up! I’m taking things slow with Vivi!!” I rarely see her flustered, but it felt nice because I was able to make Law genuinely smile.

 Letting us go, Nami stood up and pulled Luffy and Robin with her to the kitchen when Luffy asked about Vivi. Watching them go, I let my back hit the ground as I sighed. I was this close to kiss him, and fuck was it, “Hot…” I mumbled. I was quick to get up when I heard Law’s voice asking me “What is?”

 “Fuck, I had completely forgotten you were there- I don’t know how I did that but-“ Sitting back up, I covered my mouth and leaned on my hand in faux-casual, trying to cover the sudden wave of pleasure when I moved. I moved my hand to my cheek and tried to smile normally. “Sorry about Nami, she is very… Protective? Which I don’t understand why-“ my last word was said in a higher tone when I tried to scoot closer to the doctor but only made my situation worse.

 Still, I continued and cleared my throat. “I badly moved and uh, my muscles…” I tried to justify my sudden outburst, “Anyway, I don’t understand why she’s protective, you don’t seem like a bad guy.” I continued, “And if you’re Luffy’s friend, by default you’re actually a nice guy.” Law stared at me, deep in thought. He pondered my words for a moment, it gave me time to take in his features. His facial hair wasn’t too much, sure it probably would feel a bit itchy if we kissed but…

 At the same time, my brain sent me an image of him going down on me. His hair tickling down and making me squirm, then when he’d look back at me, his beard glistening with- “I don’t think that’s how it works; you don’t know what I do when behind closed doors. Maybe I’m a criminal.” He trailed off, giving me what was supposed to be a mysterious smile.

 “I suppose we all have secrets, it’s not that bad. I have mine; you have yours. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.” I stated, “Plus you save life, you literally studied around… a lot of years? To save people, it’d be counterproductive to kill them. At best you’d be a conman, and you know…. Eat the rich.” I hummed, thinking of something else to add. I thought the tension from before had dissipated, then I felt his hand touched mine that was splayed on the floor to keep me balanced. I was startled but did not move. Instead, I slowly looked at him, he was gazing down at me with a mischievous smile.

 “It’s cute, you think I dropped our previous topic. But tell me, you were curious about something.” His eyes trailed from our hands to then look me up and down, his lips pulled in a lazy smile. I was taken aback and dug my nails deeper into the ground, but since it was hard it only showed my fingers bent. “Was it a general curiosity, or were you wondering about someone in particular?” He asked.

 Laughing nervously, I thought I had to act cool, maybe cocky in return even. “Maybe I did not mean anything from that? Or maybe I am wondering if I have to invest in a nurse outfit for our first date- but then again, you’d have to pay it since you can afford it-“ He cut me off with a long sigh, “Avoiding the topic I see. Are you that embarrassed to admit you’re the one who fantasies abou being fucked by someone in a long white coat?” He said it in a dismissive way, but the glare he was throwing me from the side only lit a fire inside me.

 I wanted to tell him I did not, but my mouth wouldn’t let me. I stared once again at his hand and watched it make its way to my thigh. He did not go high, barely above my knee and squeezed it before brushing his thumb over it. “Cat got your tongue? No witty remark? Maybe I struck a chord.” I wanted to close my eyes, and let myself get overwhelmed by his touch. It was barely anything, but with how much stimulation I had been getting the entire evening, I was so close to cave.

 His hand traveled a bit higher on my thigh, I did not say anything. “Would you prefer I wear the coat, or you do? I’d have you completely naked, wearing nothing but that, splayed on my bed…“ He leaned over, his breath caressing my ear, “Tell me to stop.” He breathed, his hand slithering higher. “Looking straight ahead instead of facing me? Why not,” He gripped my chin and turned me his way, “look at me? That’s it, those eyes. So needy and-“

 “Traff! Let’s go!! It’s getting late,” Luffy called from the kitchen as he hopped off the isle.

I let out a breath I did not know I was holding when Law removed his hand from my thigh, sighing in disappointment. When I finally dared to meet his gaze, I saw how satisfied he looked. “I’ll send you a message when I am free. But send me a creative text if you feel like it, I’ll be sure to match the mood.” He said cockily as he stood up.

 Before he could go, I grabbed his hand to stop him, and craned my neck up to look at him, “Date first, then-“

“Then I’ll be sure to enjoy the sight of you from this angle,” He place his hand under my chin to get a good look, the way he was looking down at me was hungry and desire. If I did not have principles, I would have taken him right now, “It’s quite enjoyable to have you at this height. Just perfect, really-“ “Traff! Come on!!”

 I’ll give you a call when my schedule allows it-“ He started, but I got a hold of myself and scrambled to my sense, stumbling a bit when I stood up, I gripped his hand and took it off my chin, “If I’m free sure,”

He chuckled lowly and stepped closer once more, a knowing grin adorning his features, “You will be.” Then he walked away without saying anything more.

 They both put their coats on and stepped outside, Nami accompanied them outside while Robin stood by the door until they were out of sight. Once they were gone, Robin locked the door and turned around to give me a huge grin. “Law’s dropping Luffy back to his place and offered to drive Nami to Vivi’s house… That means we can talk about what happened- no what’s been happening the entire evening.”

 She seemed too invested, the way she leaned her elbows on her knees once she sat down on the couch showed it, that along with her huge smile. “Hey, Nami sold the product wrong, alright?” I started when I slumped next to her. The vibrations inside me were a constant reminder that I should satiate her curiosity fast, for something was waiting for me in my own room. Something a lot different than a casual dinner with friends.

 “Is that so?” She inquired, her grin only widening. “How come you never talked about him? He’s super hot, and those tattoos? Does he not ooze ‘fuckable’? I don’t have time to date but-“ I was cut off when she quipped in, “Neither does he, but I’m sure you both could make an exception.”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help my lips from curling into a smile. “I just want to fuck right now, so does he. That’s a common understanding between that gorgeous man, and me.” I hummed, thinking of something to add. But Robin beat me to it.

 “He did say you were going on a date, I believe?”

I had to do a double take and raised by brows, “He- when?”

“Before leaving, he said we’d see each other soon when he’d pick you up for your date.” She explained in her usual gentle tone. She seemed to ponder a bit longer, trying to remember the moment more.

“Well it’s not even settled, and it’s just to get to know one another-“ “It often is, yes. First step to a beautiful romance.” I snorted at her words, then shook my head.

 “Maybe, just maybe. But I barely know him, and right now I’m more interested in knowing if I’ll be able to walk afterwards or not.” It made my friend laugh, she then grabbed my hands in hers and nodded.

“If it’s any help, you definitely caught his eye. Making him laugh is hard, but you did, so many times. I wonder what you were talking about…” She trailed off, quirking a brow inquisitively. It was indeed a subtle way to see if I’d give her the gossip, but I was not going to tell her we were basically eye-fucking each other the entire time and talked about sex most of it too.

 Although they must have noticed the eye-fucking, god the discretion is lacking tonight. I was still buzzing with excitement thinking of tonight, hoping the HandSurgeon would be online.

 “He was mocking me, but I’m glad it made him laugh.” I huffed jokingly. The conversation ended shortly afterwards, Robin had to work on something and told me to text her if I needed something because she was going to put her headphone on to not annoy me with her music. It was pretty fortunate, but I’d still try my best to be silent on my part, considering what I was about to do.

 We bid each other good night and I tried to go back to my room as calmly as possible. I wanted to rush there, take off all my clothes and check if I had a message from the HandSurgeon. I felt uncomfortable in my clothes, when I moved, they’d brush against my skin and I hated how sensitive it had become from the overstimulation.

 I made a detour by the bathroom to grab a towel then locked the door behind myself when I stepped inside my bedroom. Taking off my clothes took but a few seconds however made sure to keep my underwear. Plugging my phone in, I grabbed my laptop and placed in on my bed. I made sure to angle it right, so that we couldn’t see my face, then placed the towel on my bed along my vibrator.

 Once I knelt on it and opened Discord, I noticed the messages from the HandSurgeon and the fire inside me was lit ablaze once more.

[Part 4]

[wormstacheangel]

6th of December, 2021

Hello! Welcome to day 6 of this countdown to Christmas where I just add some Christmas decorations and call it a Christmas fic lol It’s more of Dean and Jack relationship because nothing is fixed over night. Masterpost link here!

Summary: So these are set in 2021 after Cas was rescued from the Empty. He is working on remodeling their new home, Jack is a Nephilim again, Dean works in a garage and they all live together as a happy family with Miracle the dog. Sam and Eileen are still hunters who mostly kick ass from the bunker as they run the network. More family’s and friends pop up along the way because everything is fine and nothing hurts!

“Dean, you need to calm down before we get there.”

“No.”

“Dean.”

“I told Sam-!” Dean’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he drove closer to the bunker. “I told him I didn’t want Jack anywhere near a damn hunt and now he’s...he couldn’t even fly home, Cas!”

“He’s not hurt. He just overworked himself.” Cas reached over and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Jack’s fine but we’re not gonna be if you wrap us around a tree. So slow down.”

Dean took a deep breath as he eased his foot off the pedal. He didn’t say anything more about the subject as he focused on driving and on Cas’s hand that kept skimming his arm in comfort.

When they got to the bunker Dean felt a pang of sadness to see his once upon a time home crawling with strangers but that feeling was overpowered by his need to see his kid. People moved out of the way as he made his way through the familiar halls to head to Jack’s old room, Cas’s hand in his was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind in worry and anger. 

“Dean!” He heard a familiar voice and he turned to see Claire running towards them from the library. He can feel his boyfriend freeze when he saw that she had a huge blood soaked bandage on her forehead. 

She ran straight into Cas’s arms for a hug and he was quick to hold her, hiding his face in her hair as he sighed in relief. 

“Hiya, Cas.”

“Claire.” Cas sighed happily and left a kiss on top of her head before he pulled away to look at her. “Are you okay? What are you-?” 

His voice trailed off as he reached to touch the band aid, his fingers lingering over it for a second before his expression twisted into guilt. “I’m sorry I can’t...I can’t heal you.”

“I’m fine.” She smiled reassuringly at him while she pushed his hands off her. “Come on. Jack is asleep but I don’t want to leave him alone for too long.”

“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked as they followed her down the hall again. “Why is he alone? Where’s Eileen?”

“They’re around here somewhere. It's just been a little hectic since this morning. So I volunteered for babysitting services.”

“Thank you, Claire.” Cas quietly tells her, the sincerity making Claire blush as they stop outside of Jack’s door. 

“Well he’s my little brother right?” She shrugged looking away from Cas who looked like he was just told that he won a trip to Disney World. “Plus, he kind of saved all our asses back there. Mine mostly.”

“Thanks kid.” Dean dipped his head to kiss her head before he opened the door to Jack’s room. 

He saw Jack was sleeping on his back, the brown ugly blankets didn’t compare to the space themed one’s he had at home, with his teddy stuffed under his arm. His room looked untouched from the last time Dean was there, the only additions have been a small plastic Christmas tree on the nightstand and some string lights hanging around his bed. 

Cas rushed over to sit at Jack’s side and started to push his hair off his face. “Hey, Jack, we’re here. Dads are here to take you home, okay? Everything is okay.”

Jack made a pushy noise as he squished his face together before he peaked his eye open to look back at Cas, a small smile playing on his lips. “Dad.”

“Yeah,” Cas took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m right here, honey.”

Dean walked over to stand beside Cas' side so Jack could see him and touched his arm. “Get some rest, Jack. We’ll go home soon, okay?”

Jack gave a slight nod before he frowned. “I’m sorry I...I didn’t listen-”

“Shh,” Cas reached over to kiss his head. “It’s okay. Just get some sleep and we can talk about it later.”

Jack's eyes looked to find Dean. “Don’t be mad, Dean.”

Dean flinched at hearing Jack say his name and he feels his body run cold. He saw Cas look up at him before he stood up and motioned for Dean to take his seat besides their son.

“Come on, Claire. Let’s go find Sam.” 

Dean didn’t watch them leave as he sat by Jack’s side, taking his son’s hand while he smiled down at him. “Hey, it’s Dad to you.”

Jack smiled at that, it was small and tired looking. “Dad, I’m sorry,” Dean was about to interrupt him but Jack shook his head to let him finish. “I was on my way home but I heard Kaia radio in for help. Claire was...she was hurt. Badly.”

Dean couldn’t help but reach over and touch his son’s face, bruises were covering him but they looked like they were slowly healing themselves. 

“It’s okay. We’re not...I’m not mad.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Dean smiled at his kid trying to reassure him. “I was just worried.”

“Why? It’s not like I can really get hurt-”

“Jack,” Dean interrupts him as he squeezes his eyes shut and takes a breath before looking back at him. “You’re my son and I...I love you,” He let those words settle in the air before he continued, not meeting Jack’s gaze as he fussed over Jack’s hand in between both of his. “So I worry about you. Shit, I worry about you when I send you to the store for some eggs. That’s just how a parent feels all the time apparently. Or the good one’s at least.”

“I love you too, Dad.” His kid said with a soft smile, not the first time he said it but it was the first time Dean ever managed to get the words out himself. 

Dean pretended like that didn’t affect him at all as he stood up and started tucking Jack back under his blanket. “Yeah. Yeah, just get some sleep. I’ll get your sister to come watch you while I go talk to Sam.”

Jack smiled but gave a slight nod, his eyes closing as Dean leaned down to kiss his head. Then quietly and quickly he said, “Love you.” before walking out the bedroom door to find Claire waiting for him.

“And here I was thinking you weren’t good Dad material.” Claire teased him but her expression was soft, just as worried as Dean was. “He’s been worried about your reaction the whole time.”

Guilt knotted his stomach as flashbacks of awful words slipping through his mouth. “Yeah, well, I haven’t always been the nicest to the kid.”

“Yeah, Kaia really struggled to warm up to you too.” She pushed off the wall and reached to touch his shoulder. “He saved so many people today. You should be proud.”

“I am.”

“Dean?” He heard Sam walking over to him with Cas and Eileen towing behind him. “Dean, I’m so sorry! I tried stopping him but by the time I turned around he was gone and I raced over as fast as I could...everything went so fast!”

“Sammy, it’s fine. Jack is fine. Claire is fine.” Dean brought his brother down for a tight hug. “We’re fine.”

They ended up spending the night. Jack woke up but still was tired enough to not want to get out of bed. So Claire suggested a family movie night so they can all stay together for a while longer. 

That’s how Claire and Cas ended up laying on either side of Jack while they watched Jim Carrey’s The Grinch. Dean brought some pizza’s over while Eileen and Sam brought some extra chairs they can all sit on. 

The noise and bustle of the bunker outside Jack’s bedroom door was forgotten. All that mattered now was that his family was okay. Later, when he’s alone he can freak out that he was really a damn Dad now and that maybe he had more than one adopted kid. 

Sam and Eileen sneaked off as the movie ended, ready to head to their own bed, while Dean covered his boyfriend and two kids in extra blankets while they slept curled up together. 

“That’s fine. I love sleeping in chairs.” He mumbled to himself mostly. He left a kiss on top of all their heads before he got comfortable on the chair to get a few hours before he had to drive tomorrow.

-

Tag List: (Ask to be added or removed)

@galaxycastiel @superduckbatrebel  @slipper007  @wikiangela  @s-r-clowns

@ar-bi-trary @winchestcas @imlivingliferightnow  @thefaeriemagic3  @bi-bi-marie @nguyenxtrang  @dancerdovegirl  @chocolatecakecas 

[youraveragenicaddict]

3 YEARS OF HALLOWEEN.

SUMMARY - You’re the 8th child of Reginald Hargreeves and Five’s best friend, who traveled with him to the future. Suddenly, your life takes a corrupt turn, but Five can’t let you go without revealing his true feelings.

WARNING - Mentions of blood, apocalypse, everything related to Halloween👻

GENRE - Fluff

A/N - This was requested by an anonymous person. They requested 7, 8 , 10 and 12 from the Halloween promt list. I hope you enjoy, have a spooky time :)

Y/N - your name

N/N - nickname

~ The Year 2001 ~

You woke up from a nightmare, your forehead covered in sweat from fear. Quickly turning your head to confirm that you weren't dreaming anymore, you noticed that you were in your small room at the Umbrella academy

Last night, you and your brother Five had managed to persuade your father Reginald to let you and your siblings have a break from training on Halloween. Glancing at the clock, you noticed that it was already past ten in the morning. 

While getting ready, you recalled your nightmare. Five had turned out to be a serial killer who succeeded in killing thousands of people, including you and your family. You shook the uncomfortable memory away, making your way downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast.

When you entered the kitchen, you immediately noticed your mom, who was an android, making Halloween themed breakfast and Five sitting on the table talking to her about something you couldn't hear. Not wanting to disturb their conversation, you stood in the doorway, not aking a sound.

Even if you didn't mean to listen in, you did catch a few phrases, such as: '' How do I know if she likes me? She's so pretty, and others.'' You even noticed Five lightly blushing after something Grace had said, which he rarely did. 

You felt your chest tighten after hearing Five alk about some girl, which he liked. What was this emotion? You thought. They must have noticed you standing there, saying nothing because Five walked up to you to greet you.

‘’ Morning, how did you sleep?’’: He questioned. When you looked him in the eyes and remembered your dream, so you answered: ''Good. Quick question, are you a serial killer?’’: Your response left him fixed to the ground, but he seemed to regain his voice when Grace softly chuckled at your question.

''No, why on Earth would you think I am one?'': Five defensively demanded. ''Oh, It's nothing, I just had a nightmare, nothing important.'': You explained. He nodded, understanding where the question was coming from. 

After sitting in comfortable silence, your mom presented you with two Halloween themed dishes of eggs and bacon. You swiftly ate your breakfast and sprinted up to your room to finish the book you had started. Only a couple of minutes had passed when Five appeared in your room wearing a bloodied shirt and holding a bloody knife in his hand. 

''Nice costume.'': You said without looking up from your book for more than a few seconds. He seemed disappointed at your response, so he poofed out of your room. What was that about, you thought.

After finishing your book, you chose to aimlessly walk around the mansion to see what the others were up to. You managed to walk down the stairs until Five jumped out from a corner wearing a ghost costume.

 ''Boo!'': He yelled. ''You do know that Grace will be mad that you ruined one of the white sheets,'': You questioned. Disappointed again, Five space jumped to who knows where. For the second time that day, you were left, wondering, what he was trying to accomplish.

Throughout the day, Five continued to jump out of nowhere, wearing a different costume each time. You only replied by criticizing his work of praising how good each outfit looked. 

Five was ready to give up, but he wanted to try and scare you one last time. He put on his zombie attire and made his way down the stairs to try and find you. You were sitting opposite the fireplace, a green book in your hand.

''Hey,'': He said in his best zombie voice. You slowly looked up to meet his eyes and burst out into a fit of giggles. ''Five, you look ridiculous. What are you doing?'' You spoke between fits of giggles.

''Seriously Y/N? Nothing?'': He harshly asked. As the realization hit you, you inquired: ‘’Wait, were you attempting to scare me?’’ Five sat next to you and tiredly sighed: ‘’I have been for the past 5 hours, but thanks for noticing.’’

That was all it took to make you burst into another laughing fit, but this time Five joined you. You spent the rest of the day trying to help him scare the others. The only ones who reacted in any way were Pogo and Vanya, who made you promise, to never do it again.

~ The Year 2002 ~

The year Five left you.

You were sitting in your room, trying not to fall asleep, in case he poofed into your bedroom and apologized. You were doing great at hiding how much you missed him. He was quite bitter to the others, but to you, he was sweet and soft. Every night from that day, before going to sleep, you replayed all of your last happy memories with him. You were doing so tonight.

October 31st, Halloween (Flashback)

You were sitting on the black leather couch, your feet in Five's lap, while you both were reading different books. Luther, your brother, had managed to annoy Five so much that he attempted to fight him, even if he knew he couldn't possibly win that match.

Getting bored with your book, you inquired: ''What do you want to do tonight?’’ Without looking up, Five responded in an annoyed tone: ‘’I don’t know, murder Luther?’’ You started softly laughing and said: ''You know we can't do that. Allison would kill us.'' ''Doesn't matter, at least he'd be dead.'' : Five spat.

''Come on, let's bake something. I'll teach you how to make spooky macaroons,'': You offered. ''You know I could never refuse a proposal like that,'': He said, already being in a better mood.

~ End Of Flashback ~

You missed him so much that this sharp pain in your heart wouldn't go away. 

~ The Year 2020 ( Post-Apocalypse ) ~

He was back, and you finally got a breather from all of the people trying to kill you and your family. Over the years you had spent without him, you had realized that you were indeed in love with him.

You weren't worried that being with Five would be weird because of your powers, you somehow aged slower than others,

He managed to make you laugh when no one could, and he always called you N/N, a thing only he did. But since he came back, he had changed,  he was always annoyed by something you did wrong, and he hated when someone said something he didn't like. 

Not caring about all of the hurtful things he did and said to you, you still treated him like you did before, like the Five you fell in love with. No, that didn't mean that you didn't love him anymore, the opposite. You made it your mission to make him laugh again, to get back the bright, lively Five he once was.

You skipped around the house, trying to locate Five. Just like you thought, he was in the kitchen, trying to find coffee, which he liked. He wasn't doing anything of big importance and probably had forgotten that it was Halloween tonight.  ‘’I know what we're doing tonight for Halloween!’’ You joyfully announced to the grumpy boy standing in front of you. 

Five raised his head and looked at you, then your bag full of different Halloween themed supplies.  ‘’ Looking at the content of that bag, poisoning someone. ’’: He stated. You were so set on making him smile again that your gleeful attitude didn't drop one bit.

''No silly! These are cooking ingredients, were making macaroons!'': You announced while holding up the semi-heavy bag. At the word ''macaroons'', you noticed that his lips slightly lifted upwards. ''I did always like them more than any sweet,'': He agreed.

You were so set on making him laugh, you, along with Five, had littered the floor with flour from your flour fight, cracked a few eggs over his head, which he didn't like, but still returned the actions. While being so focused on making him laugh, you didn't notice that he was smiling like a crazy person while baking with you.

''I truly missed this,'': He admitted. ''Yeah, me too.'': You agreed. ''Listen,'' He hesitantly started, ''Before I left, there was one thing I wanted to tell you. To be honest, that thing still exists.'' He revealed truthfully. ''What is it?'': You asked him, to keep going.

''The truth is, I love you. I know this might sound a little stupid and,'': He rambled. You cut him off by kissing him on the lips, and he passionately kissed you back. You never had imagined, that it would feel that way. Like millions of fireworks set off, like thousands of butterflies flying in your stomach. You removed your lips from his and whispered: ''I love you too.''

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-10)

Word count: 5.2K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff :)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: No angst again! And good stuff. I am being very nice these days ;)

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​. Athina, you’re a goddess <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

10th September 2008

You woke up to something soft tickling your face, almost feather light and pleasant. Opening your eyes, you found Sam’s arms wrapped around you, nestling you in them. A glowing warmth spread through your body as you remembered last night, his lips on your skin, and the feel of his hot breath on your face. The way he had called out for you was enough to raise goosebumps on your skin now. And he’d said he loved you. Your heart thrummed in your chest at the memory.

Slowly, you removed his arm from over your body and slipped out of bed. You wanted to kiss him on his forehead or the point of his nose but Sam looked so peaceful you didn’t have the heart to wake him up. 

You pulled over the T-shirt and the boxers Sam had lent you last night and headed down to the kitchen. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to skip dinner after a morning of hangover because your stomach was churning weirdly. 

Would everything be different now? After last night. You felt like your heart would burst from all the love you were feeling. Without giving the task at hand much thought, you fried some eggs, toasted the bread and put the coffee pot on a boil, wondering what Sam had for breakfast. 

With an excitement that you had never felt before, you carried the tray laden with food upstairs, wondering how to wake Sam up. As it turned out, Sam was already sitting up, a confused expression on his face. The sheets were bunched around his waist and the sight of his naked torso made your face feel hot. When he saw you, his eyes lit up, a smile replacing the frown.

“Here you go,” you said, placing the tray before him and then joining him on the bed.

His eyes softened. “You didn’t need to,” he said, gesturing towards the food. “Not seeing you here, I was starting to worry that last night had been a dream.”

“Only the best dream of my life,” you muttered, pouring his coffee. “Black with half spoon sugar. Just like you have it.”

Sam was still stuck on your words. He took the cup from your hands and placed it back on the tray, then pulled you to him. “That’s just it. I didn’t want it to be a dream. Even if it was the best dream ever. All dreams, even the best ones end when you wake up. But with you… I don’t ever want this to end.”

You reached out and kissed him. At first he was surprised, then he leaned into it. Kissing Sam was like a breath of fresh air for your soul. If it was left to you, you would spend an obscene amount of time kissing him.

“This is one way to start the day,” he chuckled.

“Mhmmm…” you sighed, handing him the coffee and starting on the eggs. 

“Funny that Jo didn’t turn the place upside down looking for me,” you wondered idly. You should have told her where you were last night.

“I called her when you got here,” Sam said. “When er… when you were having a bath.”

Sam was always so thoughtful. Last night it hadn’t even occurred to you to let Jo know, about the acceptance or the fact that you were here, and you weren’t particularly proud of it. Absentmindedly, you scooted closer to Sam and like it was the most natural thing to do, he put his arm around you. The heat coming of his skin and his scent was so comforting, you all but melted against his side. A girl could get used to this.

“Hey,” Sam nudged you with his lips pressed in your hair. “You know that NC Central is only a seven hour drive from New York, right?”

Of course you knew that. It was a great school, but it was also on the East coast, where Sam would be. You nodded against his neck, lightly tracing the hard lines of his stomach. 

“I could drive over the weekends to see you.” There was hope in his voice.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you smiled at the thought of it all. A new school, a new life with Sam in it. You thought of happy weekends and flinging yourself into his arms whenever you saw him. You pictured his wide smiles, and the joy in his eyes when he saw you. “I could hop on a bus on Friday night and be there in New York in the morning. You’d show me around, wouldn’t you? I’ve never been to such a big city.”

“You have no idea,” he said. “I’ve never wanted that job more than now. Hell, I’d throw myself into preparing for the bar, if it keeps us that close now.”

“Mhmm.” You huddled closer to him.

“What’re you thinking?”

“About how I’m going to afford this,” you said. “NC central isn’t that expensive, but it’s still a lot considering I have almost nothing to my name. I don’t want to sell off Gran’s house.”

“You want to make it into a bakery, I remember,” he said, gently, then added hesitantly. “Maybe I could-”

“No!” You sat up straight. “Absolutely not. I can’t ask this from you.” You hurried to explain, seeing the slightly hurt expression on his face. “This isn’t about you in any way. It’s very kind of you to offer, it really is. But I want to do this by myself. I’ll apply for a student’s loan. Like I said, the money isn’t an impossible sum. I just need a guarantor to vouch for me at the bank. I don’t want to ask aunt El cause I know she had some bank problems with the diner. She doesn’t trust them very much.”

Sam looked thoughtful.

“What’re you thinking?” You asked suspiciously. “Don’t think about volunteering.” 

His finger was drawing a pattern on your shoulder as he licked his lips. “You know I can’t. I don’t own any property myself. You should ask Dean, though.”

“Dean?” You looked up at him surprised. “Why would he?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Sam countered. “He might not show it, but he does like you. You’re not asking him to pay for your college, you’re just asking him to be a guarantor. He has great credit, the bank won’t refuse that. It’s not like you’re going to dupe him. I know my brother. Trust me, he’ll be happy to help you.”

When you still looked surprised, Sam took hold of your hand and pressed it to his lips. “Don’t overthink this. You said you wanted to do this by yourself, so you bring it up with him. I promise I won’t say a word.”

“You’re awesome. You know that, right?”

He winked. “I don’t know about that. But I’m sure happy you think that!”

You removed the tray from the bed and placed it on the side table, then moved over to straddle Sam, hands placed on either side of his face. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

In a quick moment, Sam flipped you, so that you were lying on the bed with him hovering over you. He dipped down to kiss the hollow of your neck, then whisper against your skin. “The pleasure is all mine.”

***************************************

“You know, if you keep bouncing on the balls of your feet like that,” Meg said drowsily from the table, where she sat flipping through a magazine, “I’m going to side with Kevin on this. You’re hiding something.”

You put your lunch in the bag, wondering just how to tell her. It wasn’t that you wanted to hide your history from your roommate. There was just so much of it, you had no idea where to start. For now, you just settled for, “There’s this professor. I thought he was mad at me. Turns out he isn’t.”

“Wow. It doesn’t take much to get you all chirpy.”

Just the feeling of six years worth of hell coming to an end.

“Ready to go?” You asked and Meg jumped down from the high stool.

“Yep.”

“Is this the same good looking professor?” She asked out the blue as you reached the campus gates.

“How do you know about the good looking professor?” You narrowed your eyes. You had mentioned Sam only to one person in the apartment.

Meg looked taken aback for a second, then said nonchalantly. “Cas told me.”

“You two are really close, aren’t you?” Try as you may, you couldn’t keep the sly tone out of your voice completely. 

Meg changed the topic smoothly, but not before you saw the faint blush on her cheeks.

Meg blushing? Speak of novelty.

She waved you a goodbye at the entrance of the law building, heading north to the Physics department. Wondering if anyone else in the apartment had noticed, you entered the class for your first lecture. 

Professor Mills was in a great mood today, and she encouraged a debate on whether Legal writing and its syntax should affect how seriously the core content of any litigation is treated. You firmly believed that poor syntax should in no way undermine the severity of any litigation, and made your points with citation. The opposite team consisting of Brad and everyone in Madison’s group tried to put up a strong fight, but you knew you had the moral high ground on that one. Maddy was smiling by the end of it, but the expression on the other’s faces ranged from disappointment to disgust.

Professor Mills mentioned you by your name at the end of the class, lauding you for your points. It was enough to give you the high of the day. You simply loved her.

As the college day neared its end, you were excited for Civil Procedures, excited to see Sam again. Maybe he wouldn’t ignore you now. Maybe he’d actually look at you and smile. Your eyes were eagerly glued to the door, waiting for him while everyone chattered in the background.  

It wasn’t Sam who came in. Instead, the TA Paul announced that the lecture has been cancelled for today and tomorrow. Professor Winchester would take double lectures in the following week to cover it up. 

“Well, dang it!” Meredith cursed. “After that horrible debate, I was looking forward to seeing that chiseled face.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s disappointed,” Lacey said slyly. “Y/N looks like someone kicked her puppy.”

You schooled your expressions immediately. 

Madison rolled her eyes. “Everyone was looking forward to it. Maybe he has something important. Remember he ditched Thursday, Friday on our first week, too.”

“Maybe he’s just playing hooky with his girlfriend,” Rebecca shrugged. You had a maddening urge to slap her. It wasn’t fair to direct all your anger at her; you knew that. However, listening to her words, evaporated the high you had been feeling completely.

How naive of you to think that one small conversation could make everything okay. Maybe he went back home and changed his mind, had seen that the exchange was a lapse in his judgement. Your stomach dropped at that thought. Why did he have to show you a moment of softness, if he was just going to take it all away? It would have been better then, had he continued to ignore your existence. You had been making your peace with it. You didn’t think you had it in you to take one more hit after feeling hope, at last.

Morosely, you started picking up your things.

“Y/N. Don’t forget about the party, tomorrow.”

Madison was looking at you with wide eyes.

You opened your mouth to make up a reason. She cut you off-

“Look, I checked your schedule. You’re not working this weekend. This is your last working day for the week. I’ve made all the reservations and counted you in.”

“Maddie-”

Her brow furrowed. “You’re not going to stand me up, are you? The drinks are on me.”

Looking at her, you just couldn't say no. 

“I was gonna say that I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Yay!” She shot out of her chair and flung her arms around you. Surprised, you put your hand against her back. 

“Told you she’d come,” Madison told her friends. Lacey gave you a smile, Meredith looked disinterested and Rebecca had her back turned to you completely. That summed it up accurately. For the umpteeth time you wondered how their group functioned at all.

Brad, who had been lingering at the table with his guy friends, gave you a smirk.

“Miss Y/L/N finally gracing us with her presence?”

“Oh, butt out, Brad,” Madison shoved him. “If you keep acting like a dick, she might change her mind.”

“Now we wouldn’t want that, would we,” he said under his breath.

You didn’t want any more of their company than what was absolutely required, so you said your goodbye to Madison and left the lecture hall for the day. With your sulky attitude, returning to the apartment wasn’t an option in case you ran into someone. Those guys were very perceptive and you didn’t want to lie to them anymore.

After wandering aimlessly underneath the pergolas of the Quadrangle, you headed to the library. It was about two in the afternoon; four more hours and it would be your shift anyway.

You decided to have your lunch in the closed quarters of the librarian’s room. There wasn’t much to the room except a makeshift bed, a table, chair and a coffee machine. You could sit there and catch up with the essays after lunch.

The on shift librarian wasn’t Molly today, but this other odd hours guy. She was hovering over him, giving instructions. When she saw you, she ushered you to the side. “It’s his first time. I’m training him for the weekend.”

“Oh.” You looked over at the guy. He was clearly an anxious wreck. You felt bad for him.

“Hey listen,” you said, “Is it okay if I use the librarian’s room? I haven’t had lunch and I don’t want to go to the eateries or the mess.”

She gave you a guilty look. “The room is kinda sorta… ocupado.”

“What?”

“See for yourself.” She took hold of your hand and pulled you towards the room in question.

The door was almost closed, save for a small slit. Through it, you could see Sam sitting on the table, multiple books and files scattered around him. He was absolutely absorbed in whatever he was doing, forehead lined in concentration.

“What the-”

Molly shushed you. “Look, I know this looks weird, but he’s in the middle of something. They convicted one of his key clients, and he said he needed some place quiet to figure this out.”

“What about his firm?” You asked the obvious question.

“Client’s not from SF. He’s from LA. Heading to Acton Gris would be going in the opposite direction.”

“Then what about his office here?” You were so surprised that the questions just flowed out of your mouth.

Molly gave an exasperated sigh. “Students. They keep knocking on the door.” She gave you a desperate look. “Please Y/N, let him be. He’s really worked up about it.”

“Yeah, of course,” you assured her. 

She looked grateful. “This isn’t conventional, but he’s one of the good folks around here. I knew him from the alumni fraternity before he started teaching here. In fact, he recommended me for my internship at the LA firm he was working in then.”

That explained why she called him by his first name. She was preaching to the choir about how good Sam was though.

“That’s all fine,” you said. “Just let me know if there’s any way I can help.”

“Molly?”

Both of you jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Molly?” He asked again. “Is that you?”

She pushed the door open.

“Yeah it’s me.” She looked at you. “And this is Y/N. You remember her from the other day, don’t you?”

He smiled at you. It was a tired smile, but it held the mischief of a secret only the two of you knew.

“I remember her,” he said dryly.

All the distress and world ending angst you had been feeling since the class vanished into thin air.

“I-I didn’t mean to disturb you,” you said quickly. “I just came in to check if I could have lunch here. Clearly you are busy working, so I’m just going to go now.”

“You’re not disturbing,” he said firmly. “I’ll clear the table. You can have lunch here.”

“No- no,” you backed off. “Seriously. I can go to the mess.”

“Y/N.” He looked beyond exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in a while. Even his words were heavy. “C’mon, in. At least sit on the bed.”

Molly poked you in the back from behind and you stumbled inside. 

The room was a mess. There were papers everywhere. Sam was one of the most organised people you knew. If there was that much mess around him, either he had changed drastically in the years or this was really a disaster situation. 

“Tell me if I can help you with anything.” The words were out before you could even think them through. 

He rubbed his hand across his face. “I can’t possibly ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering.”

You didn’t know if this fell in line with proper etiquette of how one should converse with a professor, but this was Sam, and he looked ready to drop. To hell with etiquette. You were going to do whatever you could to help.

Behind you, Molly had disappeared back into the library.

He paused, considering your words, then sighed. “Even if you wanted to, this is too much to explain.”

You flung your bag on the bed and rolled up the sleeves of your sweater. “I’ve worked as a paralegal for an asshole boss. I think I can keep up.”

Sam gave you a look that was halfway between impressed and surprised. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath, so softly that you almost missed it. “Alright, here’s the details of the case-”

You listened attentively as he quickly briefed you about this teenage boy, James Feller, who had been arrested for grand auto theft about four years back. The boy testified against the gang, cut a deal with the DA and walked. Now he had been arrested again, and after being let out, jumped the bail. Sam had until tomorrow to fix it or this kid was spending a long, long time in jail. Sam was sure that James hadn’t done it. He had some grabs from CCTV footage to prove his alibi. It only needed to be put together. He might be completely innocent when it came to the theft, but there was still the bail issue to take care of.

“Right, I’ll go through the log to see if there’s anything similar where an underage defendant jumped bail and got out of prison under the jurisdiction of LA,” you said.

“That’s exactly what I was going to suggest,” he said, astonished again.

You shrugged and pulled out your laptop, signing into the library’s archival server with your password. There were a couple of cases that could be cited in context to Sam’s case. You pulled out the soft copies of the litigations and highlighted the relevant extracts. 

“You guys need anything?” Molly was standing at the door. She had her bag on her shoulder. You looked at the clock. It was already six, time for your shift to begin. Where had the time gone?

“We’re good,” Sam said.

“Seriously? You guys don’t need anything? Not even coffee?” She came to stand by the coffee machine. “I’m making a cup for myself anyway.”

You gave in. “I’d like a cup. Thanks, Molly.”

“One for me, too,” Sam caved, too.

“You guys look intense working like that,” she said, filling the pot with water. “Are you making any headway?”

“Y/N found some useful citations.” Sam closed the heavy book before him and leaned back in his chair, rolling the sleeves of his white shirt. The coat had been hung over the back of his chair since long before. You tried not to look at him too much.

“Good on you, Y/N!” Molly said, pulling on three mugs. “How do you have your coffee?”

“Little milk and one spoon sugar,” you said politely.

“Sam?”

There was no response. You looked to see that he was busy with his phone, having not heard a single word of it.

“Let it be,” you suggested, seeing as Molly was shuffling the strap of her bag. “You go on. I’ll manage the coffee.”

“You’re a lovely person!” She noted with just a hint of surprise, then blew you a kiss. “See you later, Chica bonita.”

You poured coffee for him, black with half spoon of sugar, stirred it and carefully handed it to him. He took it gratefully, holding out two fingers as he talked over the phone. 

You grabbed your mug and went back to your laptop. It appeared that Sam was talking to a colleague explaining the things he needed to get ready. He took a sip of the coffee and stopped mid sentence, looking at you over his screen in wonderment.

“Chase, I’ll call you back in a minute.”

You had gathered your stuff in one hand.

“Y/N?” Sam interrupted you, voice oddly tender. “You remembered.”

He was holding his mug out. The warm vapours were slightly fogging his glasses.

“Of course I remember.”

There was no way you would forget.

He saw your things wrapped in your hand and the bag slung over your shoulder.

“You’re leaving?” Disappointment clear in his tone.

You shook your head. “I’m just going outside at the desk. It’s my shift now. I’ll continue tagging relevant extracts and have three sets of printouts ready for you. You’ll let me know if you need more time? I can keep the library running all night.”

“You’re the power wielding person here, aren’t you?”

“Sure am,” you grinned. “I’ll leave you it.”

Once outside, you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Being around Sam made you conscious of every little thing… enough to drive you crazy. Maybe it was a good thing that you were going to the party tomorrow. You needed a drink. That thought inadvertently reminded you of Jo- the only sister you’d ever had. If she were here, she would have told you to go for it despite knowing how insane drunk Y/N was and wreck you would be the next day. The memory of her also made you sad, the missing was gut wrenching sometimes. You almost turned on your heel and headed by inside to ask Sam about Jo and about Dean. Were they still together? Did the diner ever get out of the bumpy patch? How was aunt El doing? 

Did they hate you for leaving like that?

That thought brought you up short. You didn’t want to know the answer to that question. There was a small hope within you. If Sam of all people could find it in himself to be civil with you, maybe they would, too. Broaching the topic now would be disastrous. It wouldn’t help Sam right now to lose concentration. Hell, he might do a 180 and suddenly remember that he didn’t like you.

You got back to your desk, filing the cards out for the day before getting to Sam’s paperwork. Though it was a manual job, you did it with utmost concentration, knowing how chaotic courtrooms got and how crucial it was to find the right evidence at the right time. Alongside, you carefully read the suit and arranged the stacks according to the order in which they were needed.

“You know, if you kept going at it like that, you’ll have to represent the boy tomorrow.”

You looked up and your breath hitched. Sam stood before you, his shirt partially untucked and sleeves rolled all the way up till his elbows. The tie was gone and the top button of his shirt was undone. There was a glint of silver against his neck, a thin chain. You wondered where it had come from absently. Without the glasses, and his hair slightly dishevelled, you could see some of the guy you had first fallen in love with.

You looked away quickly, blinking several times, then pushed the stack of printouts towards him. All three copies, arranged as per the appearances of the evidence in the suit papers. The affidavits are all the bottom, along with the supplementary copies.

“You should come down to the office and train my assistant,” he said, leaning over the table so that his elbow rested on top. “He can’t find one paper on time.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh.

“Aren’t you having dinner?” He asked, tucking his hair behind his ear. He was nervous. 

“I’m not hungry.” Your stomach was already so full of butterflies, you didn’t think any food could go in.

“I’m already feeling terrible that you’re helping me with this… please don’t skip dinner for it.” There was something about his voice that affected your soul. The sound of his words were different from everyone elses. All words felt kinder, lovelier when he said them.

“Why are you fighting for this kid?” The words slipped past you before you could stop them. You had been wondering this all evening. “I saw the papers. You’re doing this pro bono and not for Acton Gris. This is your own case.”

He didn’t reply immediately and his face had a far away look. When he finally spoke, it was in a reminiscing tone. “I met James when he was a foster kid a few years ago. He got pushed into the racket because of bad influence. When I saw him at the retention centre, he broke down completely. They were blackmailing him by threatening to hurt his little sister. When he first got off, he looked at me like I was some kind of miracle.”  Sam’s face had an awed look, as if he couldn’t comprehend how anyone could think that of him.

“I knew he wouldn’t get into this again. He’s in college now and has basically turned his life around. We have enough evidence to pin a gang member down for framing him. I don’t want anyone at Acton Gris to help me on this because this is my own case. Putting some poor junior on it is just abusing my power.”

He was a good man. That in itself didn’t surprise you because you had always known it. What surprised you was that he had remained one. Sam used to be starry eyed with ambitions and full of a thirst to do the right thing. He had been so idealistic. It worried you that one day he would wake up and see that the world was an even worse place than what he thought it to be. You worried that the ruthless profession might kill some of the inherent goodness in him. After having lost just as much as you, he hadn’t lost faith in the world. He had remained good.

“What?” He questioned and you realised you were staring.

“There you are!”

Jody Mills stood behind Sam, a harried expression on her face. He straightened up immediately and it occurred to you how close your faces had been.

“I went to your house, called up your PA, and here you are.”

“Jody?” He clearly hadn’t expected her.

She handed him the bag she was carrying. “I have dinner for you. I knew you would bury yourself in the case and wouldn’t cook since you’re by yourself now.”

Now. What did that mean? Lacey’s remark about Sam living in family quarters and having a girlfriend came to your mind. You dismissed it quickly.

“Didn’t see you there, Y/N,” Professor Mills came around. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Actually I just started a week ago.”

Her eyes flitted to the stack in front of you. “And what’s this?”

“Y/N’s been helping me with some printing,” Sam said.

Professor Mills gave him a once over. “Sam Winchester making students work?”

“It’s not like that,” you defended quickly. “I offered to help S- Mr. Winchester. I have some experience as a paralegal and this was only a matter of making copies.”

“You did a lot more than that,” Sam corrected smoothly.

“I was only joking.” she placed a hand on Sam’s arm and you noted that they were probably closer than just colleagues. Friends even. “You, on the other hand, keep surprising me, Y/N. This looks like solid work.”

You blushed at the compliment, mumbling a small ‘thank you.’ Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sam gazed down at you oddly. If you didn’t know any better, you might have misinterpreted it as a hint of pride. 

“You have your food!” Jody ordered him and waved at you. “See you in class tomorrow, Y/N.”

“Good night,” you wished her.

Before leaving, she glanced from you to Sam and back again, a peculiar look in her eyes, shook her head and left.

She had packed a burger and pack of oily fries for Sam. You saw his brow furrow at the sight of it and smiled to yourself. Some things never changed.

Sam insisted that you have your dinner, too. However, you made sure that while he sat inside, you had your dinner at your desk. There was only so much of his nearness you could take without having your feelings run wild. Sam needed to go through the case files in peace for the court tomorrow. You let him be, only visiting the librarian’s room once to let him know that you wouldn’t shut the library at all. He was grateful for it. After everyone else had left, you wrapped the shawl around your shoulders and put your head down against the wooden desk. Closing your tired eyes just for a second, you let yourself reflect on everything that had happened today and how one day could be more impactful than a month of one's life sometimes.  

You woke up several hours later. Grey light was starting to filter from the high windows. It was early dawn.

Hurriedly you got up to check on Sam, but the librarian’s room was closed from the outside, you checked in the seating area, too. There was no one there; you were by yourself in the room. 

Back to your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper placed under your paperweight.

It said-

Y/N,

I have to start from here now to make it to LA in time for the hearing. Didn’t have the heart to wake you up. I can’t thank you enough for your invaluable help.

Regards,

Sam.

You clutched the paper tightly in your fingers, crumpling it in the process. Sometimes a few words were louder than a speech. Sometimes the gesture was even louder.

***************************************   

A/N 2: You guys! THEY TALKED! I know a lot of you have been like ‘They just need to talk’ and well, it happened. So what do you think? Uphill?

ALL MY LOVE to everyone who commented and reblogged. You guys keep me posting! <3

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[cutegirlmayra]

My first GoChi prompt~

Dragon ball AU - Chichi x Goku

Prompt:

Besides just being a delinquent example to our sons sometimes... I feel Goku really does say some of the most kindest things.

Well, you wouldn’t believe me unless I gave you an example, right? Haha! Guessed right!

It all started on a sunny day when Goku and I went on a drive~

Chichi’s lips are flapping at the wind pressure blasting her back against the passenger’s seat as Goku wildly drives in odd zig-zags that look dangerously close to causing a serious accident.

“Goku! Other way! No, that way!” - “Which way was the lake, Chichi? All this turning is making me dizzy! Haha!” - “You blockhead, watch out for the trees!”

Goku smiled and closed his eyes, exercising his arm in a happy-go-lucky expression as he rotated it to the side of him. “No worries, Chichi! I’ll just knock it out of the way if it comes too close.”

“You’re the one coming close and we will not be punching our neighbors trees!” She gripped the sides of the car, wondering why on earth she spent the last of their savings on getting a car that could retract it’s top down.

In all honesty, she thought that with her boys getting so big, and with Goku consistently wrecking things... she just wanted something less expensive so if he broke it, she wouldn’t worry too much about the cost of fixing it.

“Oh, oh!” she had slacken back down in her seat with a sigh at her poor, grandmother nerves now before excitedly standing up in the car and removing her seatbelt, pointing cheerily to the lakeside. “That’s it! That’s where they saw the giant fish!”

“Ohh, really?” Goku leaned his head to see over her better. “Wow..! I can’t believe our fights created such big craters! And after all so long, they’ve turned into giant lakesides!”

Chichi beamed a grin to him, but kept back her shaky comment with a bead of sweat dripping down her face. “Heh...heheh... yeah... world-destructive battles are just great on a planet that can survive practically extinction.” she muttered to herself, but still leaned her head out as Goku pulled over but braked too hard and she went flying out.

“Ah! Chichi!” He flew out of the car, basically teleporting, and caught a leg as her face still planted against the ground. “Are you okay..?” He pulled her up as she looked a bit exhausted by the endeavor of ever having a ‘nice quiet drive’ with her family.

“I’m fine~” she groaned out, but Goku politely hoisted her up on his shoulder, steadying her there. “Sorry, Chichi. I guess even though I don’t crash anymore, I still gotta work on my aim. Adjusting my power is getting a bit tougher recently with all the special training I’ve been doing. It makes it harder to see and spend time with you too.” He tilted his head with yet another kind smile.

Chichi looked down, some dirt still on her face, but smiling at his sincerity with love.

Don’t think that’s the best he can do, now! My Goku has gotten a lot more sweeter over the years too~ I remember when he first came back from being dead, it was late in the night and I was worried about so many things… Goku didn’t hesitate to give me a sign of his affections though… although I would have rather flowers but giant snapping dragons with ribbons on them were a decent second to say the least!

Well, my memory can be faulty at times. But there’s been many times I’ve felt like the strongest man in the world’s wife! Let’s continue with some of his more, charminger, moments~

Goku set Chichi down as she started setting up a picnic, looking over at him as she spread out the blanket and wondering what he was thinking about, seeing him grip his belt and look out over the water with a serious expression all of a sudden…

He wasn’t one to really contemplate that hard, at least, unless something was seriously wrong. Pricking at her heart strings, she wondered if there was something he wasn’t telling her again… Maybe another giant battle was coming… or maybe he was just hungry?

“If you stare at the lake too long, you’ll never find those fish.” Chichi teased, sitting elegantly on her knees and with her hands in her lap. “Hehe~ You can’t watch a clock either, we’ll bring plenty back for the family dinner! Ah~ It’s been so long since I’ve cooked for everyone! I’m thrilled that unnaturally alien fish have been growing here so we can clean the environment but also have a lovely meal with the family!” She wasn’t expecting that turnout, but if it meant more time to be a ‘normal’ family, she was willing to prepare at whatever cost to make it happen!

Goku just lowered his head, still thinking…

‘Now that is strange,’ Chichi pouted her lips and blinked a few times in confusion, ‘Normally, I can read him pretty well.’ she tilted her head, “Goku? Is something wrong?”

“Emm… Nothing’s wrong, Chichi, just thinking.” Goku looked back at her and gave her yet another open-mouthed, goofy grin. He put his hand behind his head, laughing, “Just thinking about the lake and the sky, is all!”

“Oh? That sounds rather admiring of you.” She wasn’t quite aware that he took time to enjoy the nature and scenery around him. “What’s so special about it? Doesn’t it look just like any lake and sky?”

“...Well… It probably will sound stupid.” He raised his head up, and she knew this was going to be riot. Whatever it was, she giggled sweetly and nodded to him.

“Alright, you big lug, tell me what’s so stupid.” She encouraged, with her own flavor of sweetness. She eyed him tenderly as he looked back at her, and looking into each one of her eyes, lowered his raised hand and itched his nose, as though playing demure.

“Ah, it’s nothing. Really, Chichi.”

“Oh, don’t start that!” Chichi patted the ground by the blanket. “I don’t care what anyone says, you’re not a fool who can’t have his own opinions and thoughts! Even if you aren’t very well educated, you still know the most important lesson in life!”

Her ‘matter-of-factly’ spoken words intrigued him, as he came to hover over to her and then plopped down quite swiftly. His action made wind whirl up and she had to adjust her hair and keep herself seated--”Oh!” she caught herself from being gusted away, but continued to smile like a doting wife.

“But, Chichi… you call me dumb sometimes.” He mentioned innocently.

“I call you a dumb sweetheart.” She stuck her nose up in the air, as though defiant.

“H-how’s that any different?” He looked nervous saying that, but she pinched his cheek and watched him flail a bit in her grasp. “A-ah-wah! Chichi, that hurts!”

“Because I’m your wife, that’s why!” she released her cruel hold on him and then scooted closer to him, cuddling up and leaning on his large, muscled chest. “Now then~” She went back to being her own personal brand of affectionate. “What’s so great about the sky and sea that it takes your attention away from your adorable wife?” she cooed.

“Uhh… the fact that it reminds me of you, I guess.” He relaxed and leaned back, letting her lean on him and holding them both up with his arms keeping them from both falling back. “The sea reflects the sky… or does the sky reflect the blue of the sea?” he wondered, “The lake is so small, kinda like an eyeball.” He then looked down at Chichi, seeing her intently listening to him, her eyes looking up to him. “If I’m the sky, then I can see my reflection in your eyes, Chichi.” He commented, but then looked away as her eyes began to twinkle as though he had swept her off her feet. “But then… doesn’t that mean I reflect you in me? The sky has clouds, which are parts of the sea. Does that mean… even though I don’t know if you can see me in you, that there’s still a piece of you that’s always with me?”

“Oh, Goku!!!~” Chichi charged into him in a tight embrace, almost pushing him back if it weren’t for how his arm was like a steel beam, and wouldn’t knock him over no matter how hard she tried.

“W-woah, Chichi! Are you mad?” he kept one hand extended out and away from her, mostly due to surprise and confusion.

“No, you silly idiot!” she had tears in her eyes, “I just love you so much, you goof!” she tried to hold back her tears but he just blinked down at her.

Then, a smile slowly swept over his face and he sat up, sitting indian-style and embracing her tenderly back, careful to not hold her too tightly.

“I love you too, Chichi.”

And now, you’re all jealous of how good My Goku is!~<3 Well, admit it! He’s the best husband in the world! We did end up catching some giant and ugly alien invading fish, but they and their eggs sure did taste good at our family dinner~

Goku once told me he had thought back to the first day we met… okay, fine, I gave him a friendly knock on the head for him to think harder about that time, and he finally told me how he really was glad he met someone like me. I asked if he had met any other girl he may have married if she had been more adamant about it like I was… I was,... ehem, going through a bit of a phase--but Goku has always held me close, and said the same thing.

“No matter what, I love you, Chichi.”

Now here’s your tissues, cause that’s what love is, people!!! And none of you are ever taking my Goku, or our beautiful family, away from me~

Goku and his family pose for a group picture, and right before the flash and while Goku was leaning down over Chichi’s shoulder to throw up a ‘peace sign’ and grin widely, Chichi jumped up and kissed his cheek.

His face was priceless, a look of innocent surprise, which she framed in her kitchen. Now, whenever she cooks, she opens the window and looks out over the sky… she always gets sad if there aren’t any clouds… but remembers how Goku sees the world… that in her eyes, he’ll always be there, smiling back and saying, “I love you, Chichi.”

[unholyhelbig]

part 2 of the mitchsen journal au? where aubrey feels confused as the beca in the journal is different than the beca she's meeting?

[A/N: Ah, this isn’t exactly what you asked for, and I’ve also lost my touch because I haven’t written Mitchsen in a very long time. Apologies!]

Read the first part here 

Beca Mitchell woke up to the scent of eggs and the sound of bacon pushing grease into a pan. There was an even stream of light moving through the house and she fought the urge to stretch her feet to the edge of the bed, her fingers against the headboard. It would cause more pain than pleasure at that point.

She could feel the cold heat of the bullet wedged against her ribs. Beca always imagined it carving into the bone and creating a secret language that only she and the gunman could understand. This code meant she couldn’t’ do regular stuff like stretch or lift anything over twenty pounds until she got it removed.

But Beca didn’t’ want to see the inside of an OR for a long, long time; Not those neon lights that bred discomfort or the sharp stinging scent of antiseptic. She could see the worry in her doctor’s eyes as they tried to keep the blood inside of her where it belonged.

As long as it didn’t shift, and it hadn’t, she could keep it inside. She could wear it like a battle scar, a reminder- a symbol.

Emily was making breakfast and Beca flinched when the toast popped. She kept her breath silent and hugged her shirt closer to her body. Her roommate hadn’t whipped up anything stronger than cereal for the past four months. There must have been an occasion, or a change in lifestyle- or something that had the girl humming over the stove.

“I have a present for you on the table,” She said, not turning around.

There was a little journal in the center of the mahogany circle, expertly placed between some mats that echoed the Fourth of July, because that was the closest holiday and she let Emily decorate for anything and everything, knowing it brought her simple joy.

“What’s this?” Beca asked, picking up the book, the leather was cool against her palm.

“that is a journal, you know, to write in and stuff.”

Her roommate had a worried smile on her lips as she divided the eggs and set the plates respectively in their claimed seats. They hadn’t eaten a meal together in about a month, but even that wasn’t more substantial than a pizza shared over a cheesy film.

“I figured… but why are you giving it to me?”

She was grateful for the food and the kindness, and the way Emily had been trying to get her out of her shell again after the accident. She had tried, she had always tried, to entertain the idea. The idea of a therapist and a court-appointed lawyer that went after the man who had done this. But she sat quietly in both scheduled meets and nodded along.

“I think it would be a good idea to get your feelings on paper,” She loaded her fork up with steaking potatoes and eggs, “Not saying that you absolutely have to. You can burn it, or you can draw or, I don’t know, I think it would help.”

“I appreciate it, really, I do-“

Emily reached across the table, fingers warm from cooking and eyes warmer still “I want you to be okay, Bec’s. Just give it a shot. For me?”

Beca grabbed a piece of bacon, the heat residual from the pan pressed against her fingertips. She used her other hand to turn the journal around and look at its expert crafting. She supposed it could help, and if not, at least it would humor Emily.

“Thank you,” Beca settled “For breakfast, for this.”

She had an appointment later that day. There was a little annoying reminder in her phone that buzzed at the start of her day and then again an hour before she had to be at the office. It was downtown and took half an hour to walk, only ten minutes to drive, but Beca chose to walk. She always walked to Doctor Mallie’s.

The clinic tried its hardest to be warm, with its hand-painted pictures of the mountains and its smiling receptionist who grabbed her insurance each time before going back to filing her nails with that unsettling scratch. Beca picked up a random magazine each time and waited while her stomach dropped. She never registered the words, or the pictures, for that matter. But she wanted to look like she did.

She would get weighed and be reminded of her height before a cuff was put around her arm and an unfamiliar pressure lasted for a few seconds. And then she was waiting again. The tips of her boots would touch the linoleum and the lights overhead were buzzing. There weren’t any magazines for her to pretend to read here. Nothing but a photo of the inside of the human heart.

“Beca, you look well,” The woman said as she entered the room.

She was older, with salt and pepper hair that reached her shoulders. She forbade the classic white lab coat and went for a nice pink blouse instead. She never went straight into it, she asked her about life and about Emily, and about the diner before asking Beca to take her shirt off so they could get a good look at the bullet.

Her gloved hands were warm and cooking all at once. “It looks good, really, it does. You’ve been healing nicely and your vitals are steady. Blood pressure is a little elevated but I’ll chalk that up to white coat syndrome.”

“Thank you for that,” She started to rebutton her shirt “it’s still okay to keep it in?”

She got a hard look from Doctor Mallie, the steeliest one she could muster. The woman had been in children’s medicine before retiring and picking up a few extra shifts at a local clinic. It still made Beca want to shrink, so she focused her numb fingers on buttoning her shirt.

“You know I advise you to take it out. Anything that’s not naturally supposed to be in the human body should be removed. And before you make a crude joke about that, I’m referring to a chunk of lead.”

Beca sighed, but not too deep because it still pinched and pulled. “Five out of five doctors recommend removal.”

“Then maybe you should listen to one of us five, huh?” Doctor Mallie smiled weakly “Look, Beca, I know that this is important to you, a reminder of what happened. But I think… I think it would be a good idea to take it out. Physically it won’t harm you, but mentally, well, that’s  a bit out of my expertise.”

She nodded and finished with the last button, considering the woman’s point. There was no blood, no russet paste moving against her skin. That feeling of stark coldness as it spread against the tile and she heard the popping of the gun- it had all been momentary.

Maybe she should listen. To Emily, to Doctor Mallie. To anyone but herself, because what did she know?

Beca checked out with the receptionist, who was being cautious with the fresh coat of paint on her nails. She tried not the breathe the chemical scent it, tried even harder to walk the next few blocks to the diner. Her stomach rolling with the thought of food and the memory of something more.

Alice greeted her with a steaming cup of coffee and a broad smile. She would spend hours there, sometimes full days, just watching as customers walked in and out and the pie spinner kept up its slow crawl. Today she pulled out the journal, today she started to write about the appointment and the way Emily had stuck post it’s all over the kitchen to get her to remember. Today she wrote until her hand throbbed and the ink left little black spots on the page.

She did that for days, that April. Sometimes stopping at the office to make sure metal hadn’t soaked into her blood (Mallie explained that to her a few times, and she let herself get stabbed every once in a while) But she didn’t understand at all.

The journal helped, and she spent more time with Emily. She got nearly to the end of the leather-bound book before she had lost it altogether, and a dull ache ate away at her. But Beca didn’t admit that she missed it, or that her thoughts had been compromised by the darkness of the world.

Instead, she ordered a slice of cherry pie from Alice, ran her fingers over the bullet in her ribs, and resounded to the fact that she would start over that she would buy another journal and keep moving forward.

That day, her eyes flicked up each time the door opened. It had started to rain, but the sun still shone oddly through the thin grey clouds. But the scent of the spring day seemed to follow the patron in. She worked her fingers through damp blonde curls and flashed a startling green stare directly at Beca.

Out of all the seats in the small little diner, she chose the one next to her, accepting a cup of coffee and sliding a familiar leather-bound journal across the counter. Beca could feel her heart in her throat. “You uh, you should be mad, but I thought you would want this back. It seems important.”

It was so very important. She took three even sips of coffee, not caring much for the way it bit at her throat. “You got it back to me,”

The woman let out a breath and the floral scent that pulled at her was warming and captivating and Beca smiled into her cup as she took another sip to hide her pleasure in the closeness. Alice watched the interaction with a knowing gaze but when to tend to the only other occupied booth in the place.

“I’m Beca, by the way.” She said.

“Aubrey,” the woman switched into business mode, grabbing her hand in a firm shake “You have quite the story to tell.”

“Nice to meet you, Aubrey” Beca lifted a brow and tapped the cover of the leather book “Want to see a cool scar?”

[beyondconfessor]

Mortal Baking

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Agatha Night/Mary Wardwell 

Summary: The cost of sanity seemed to be isolation. Perhaps that why she decided to visit Mary Wardwell at her cottage.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. 

Death was all around the coven. Over the last year, their numbers had dwindled catastrophically.

For Agatha, it felt like death followed her, specifically. Some of it was her own doing, others not.

Sabrina was dead. Dorcas was dead. Father Blackwood, her teachers, her parents––all of them were dead. She’d grown used to the taste of grave dirt on her tongue, and as of late, it tasted all the more bitter.

And there was no one to talk to. Everyone else had their own grief, so she didn’t reach out. Not even to Prudence.

Her sister was busy, looking after Judas and Judith, learning under Zelda Spellman's tutelage, whilst also training the once-mortal now-witch into witchcraft. Not that she cared.

All it meant was that, like everything else in her life, Prudence no longer had time for her, especially now that Agatha was no longer insane.

Though the cost of sanity seemed to be isolation.

She couldn’t even reach out and feel Hecate’s influence as everyone else seemed to. Once, on a whim, she’d prayed the Dark Lord just to see what would occur and felt her own magic slap against her in response––someone didn’t want her praying to him, so she didn’t.

She missed the madness, at least there in its influence she didn’t feel the weight of grief.

Perhaps that was why she found herself walking off campus, her feet taking her as far as to the edge of the woods where a familiar residence stood.

She knocked twice on the door and then stepped back, feeling an ache fill her. The woman was mortal; what could she offer her? And yet no one else had offered her anything as of late.

The door opened before she could talk herself out of it, and there stood Mary Wardwell. Glasses high on her nose, a furrow in her brow. “Agatha, what are you––?“

“I thought you were owed an explanation. After everything.”

She opened the door wider, and she was bid entry inside the home. Twice before she’d been inside Mary’s cottage. Once, on the first day after Mary joined her and Father Blackwood, they went as a unit to discuss everything. And the second time, by chance, for dinner––because Mary worried she wasn't eating well enough.  

As Mary placed on the kettle to make a pot of tea, Agatha's eyes drew around her home. Not much had changed, though she noticed the alcohol was no longer sitting out.

Agatha stepped into the kitchen, feeling her feet press on the linoleum. She’d wondered once what mortals did with themselves in their short lives. Her and Mary Wardwell were a similar age, not that anyone would know by looking at them both. And yet in all of her years, Agatha couldn’t recall what she’d done.

She’d lived in the orphanage, and then the Academy. Only in the last year did it feel like things were occurring outside of alcohol, sex and school.

“Sugar?”

“Two,” she confirmed and watched as Mary dropped two cubes of sugar into her tea before stirring it.  

They sat at the kitchen table and still Agatha tried to piece why she was here. What could a mortal offer her as her cup was placed before her.

“I’ve been worried about you. I tried to find the school, but…”

“It’s warded against mortals,” she advised as Mary settled into a chair opposite her. The conversation paused, and the only noise in the room was the quiet sound of a clock ticking on the wall. She wasn't sure what to say, so she tapped her nails against the cup, trying to find the words.

“You said you wanted to explain something to me?” Mary prompted.

“Father Blackwood is dead. Well….as dead as he can get. Prudence took a chainsaw to him and spread him to the corners of the earth. Fitting in some ways.”

Mary blinked, and then nodded, taking in the words as she set her cup down on the table. “Prudence is your sister. Her and Dorcas,” she recalled. “But she was Blackwood’s other daughter, is that correct?”

“Dorcas is…is also gone,” Agatha said, swallowing as she felt the words. She could still feel her sister’s lips against her own. For a moment, it’d been sweet, and then the taste of grave dirt had returned, and there was nothing that could remove the taste. Not food, nor drink, nor sex or blood. “Dead. Forever. I think…I think I did it. In the madness, I suffered. I think I––“ she paused, watching the tea leaves float in her cup.

Perhaps she should try and read her fortune. She’d probably see a banshee or the grim––some omen of death, anyway.

Mary’s hand clasped over her own, and it's warm drawing over hers.

That was one of the things they didn’t teach at the Academy. Mortals were warm. Warmer than witches.

Was that why Sabrina––?

No, Sabrina was dead. She couldn’t allow herself to fill with questions for the dead.

“I once promised to show you how us mortals bake,” she said. “How about we make spree almond biscuits? They’d go quite nicely with the tea, and I should have all the ingredients.”

She wanted to say that the tea would be cold by the time they were finished, but that wasn’t the point. So she nodded and rose, standing beside Mary.

Mary had her wash her hands and then pulled out an apron for them both to wear. One by one, she gathered all of the ingredients they required, and pulled out the necessary implements, setting them down on the kitchen bench, so they stood side-by-side.

Kitchen witchery was old magic; it dated back to the roots of magic, to Lilith. Most old families passed on recipes from mother to daughter, though Agatha’s family specialised in fortune. Teas, cards and seances. Practices of old.

Kitchen witchery was used more by witches like Hilda Spellman. It could provide sustenance as much as it could poison, and she advised Mary as such, of the little things she recalled about kitchen witchery after Father Blackwood had poisoned the church.

“Almonds can hide the smell of cyanide,” Mary advised, smiling at her. “If you ever need to dispose of someone discreetly…outside of your magic, of course.”

“Have you ever poisoned someone?” Agatha asked.

“No. Have you?”

She couldn’t recall. Possibly. She’d done so many things, and poisoning was just another way to play with mortals. “Maybe,” she shrugged.

“I shot someone once. I think,” Mary said, her eyes squinting as she stared out the kitchen window, to where it overlooked the forest. “I can’t…quite remember.”

“Do you want to?” Agatha asked.

“No. No, I don’t think I do.”

She kept her hands busy in the cooking, whisking the eggs and butter and sugar together.  Placing four in, and then came almonds. “Sometimes, I remember what I did to Dorcas. I’ve done worse, to others.”

“Like remove tongues?” Mary asked, and there was a gentle tease in the way she asked the question. Somehow, whether through circumstances predating the eldritch terrors or because of her and Father Blackwood, Mary’s views of death had shifted.

Or maybe she’d always been that way, and the good Christian values just held over that.

“I’ve done worse,” she advised softly. She didn’t feel bad about all the death and pain she wrought––especially not about the mine collapse. But the death of her sister, even madness inflicted, left a hole in her heart.  “Dorcas hurts,” she advised.  

“You loved her,” Mary advised. “When we hurt the ones we love, it hurts us in return, no matter how much we might pretend it doesn’t.” She stopped then, and then drew in a breath, looking pale. “Here, the next step is that we cut the dough into pieces.”

Agatha followed the instructions, watching as Mary guided her like she was one of her students. Usually, Agatha would be resistant to the direction. Deliberately not follow instructions, but as of late, she was so tired. And Mary wasn’t like any of her other instructors––certainly not like anyone from the Academy.

There was a kindness she didn’t expect, in how she guided her. Even now.

“Good job,” Mary said, pressing a hand to her shoulder and squeezed. Agatha felt as if she might collapse at the pressure of it. How could someone have done what they did, and still be kind?

“They’re uneven.”

“They’re meant to be,” Mary assured, taking the tray and placing them into the oven. Then, she pulled out a timer and set it. “We’ll wash-up while we wait.”

“How do you do it?” Agatha asked.

“Do what?”

“This, all of this, it’s so…boring.”

Mary laughed. “Yes, I suppose it is, isn’t it? Especially when you can just…magic up your food.”

Agatha shrugged. “We have a cook,” she advised. “Magic can’t create out of nothing. You still have to have ingredients. Potions and ceremonies require material components as well as semantic.”

“Well, that sounds pretty boring too. Finding all those ingredients, putting them together and hoping something comes out of it––not so different from cooking. Though, I’m sure a bit more deadly if it goes wrong.”

Agatha sighed. “It’s different.”

“Is it?”

“It is,” she assured. “You don’t get it. You never will. Mortals just don’t feel it like we do.”

“Could you show me?” Mary asked her voice soft. “Do something small?”

“Here,” she reached out, taking Mary’s hands in her own, holding them between each other. Then, closing her eyes she drew the warmth of the kitchen around them into her hands, feeling it pull and pulse until she was able to cause a gentle vibration from her hands through to Mary’s.

“Oh,…” Mary advised. “What–what are you doing?” She stuttered, trying to tug her hands away, but Agatha held them firm as she stared at the woman’s face.

“This is what I feel. Constantly. This ocean inside of me going back and forth like a tide coming in. That’s magic. And you don’t feel it. You can’t feel it carry in the air, or feel it spark inside of you––“ and there she let a spark crackle from her fingertips, across Mary’s palms and watched as the woman’s mouth parted her cheeks flushing. “––you mortals don’t get it. You never will.”

She pulled her hand away and watched as Mary continued to stare at her before she looked away, adjusting her glasses. “Why did you come here, to my house?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” Mary said, turning to look at her then. There was a surprising hardness to her tone. “What do you want, Agatha? Do you want a counsellor, a parent?”

“We’re the same age,” she scoffed.

“A teacher, then?”

Agatha ached, looking away. She didn’t want any of those things.

“A friend, then?”

“No!” She snapped. “Maybe, I don’t know. I thought––“ she paused then, uncertain as to where that trail of thought was going, but there were words on her tongue, and she may as well say whatever they were. “I thought you might understand.”

“The loneliness you’re feeling? Yes, I suppose she and I are longtime companions,” Mary said.

Companion. That was it, the word she wanted––not a friend, but a companion. “No one wants to know about what we did. They think that Father Blackwood was some mastermind, manipulating us. And he was, but…”

“He was kind, at times. Made you feel important.”

Agatha swallowed, feeling the conflict of emotions ache inside of her. Prudence and Directrix Spellman had convinced themselves that she'd been charmed into doing his will. She hadn't corrected them, if only because she was afraid to lose the only place she could call home these days. But it left her to lie awake at night, wondering if everything had been a lie. If maybe he had charmed her. He'd made her sane, while she'd been around him. Perhaps he'd done other things to her mind. “He was kind to you, too. Wasn’t he?”

Mary nodded. “Doesn’t mean that what he did to us was right. You can be angry with him and still…enjoy the good times we had.” She paused, her brow pressing. “How…how are Judith and Judas?”

“Good,” she advised. “Prudence is looking after them both. She’s teaching them magic and trying to…befriend them, I guess.”

“And you? How are you, Agatha? You don’t need to lie to me this time.”

Lonely, she wanted to say, but she smiled instead. “I miss the Church. It felt good to…work with you. If you like, I could…I could come back and help with what you’re doing, now?”

“What about your church?”

“She won’t answer me. Even Directrix feels her waver since Sabrina…” she paused then, tilting her head. “We were a good team, weren’t we?”

Mary frowned her, reaching up to cup her face as she angled Agatha’s head to look her directly in the eyes. “The church won’t provide what you’re looking for.”

“What am I looking for?” Agatha asked.

“I think you’re trying to discover who you are. I am, too.” Her hand went to move away, but Agatha snatched at her wrist to hold it still for a moment longer. She closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth of the hand and pretended, for just a moment, that things weren’t so different.

And then she dropped her hold of the hand and opened her eyes, moving away. “How do mortals clean up?”

“How about this time, you show me about witches do it?”

It wasn’t so different, though witches magic made it easier to wash to the mixture from the bowls,  and a quick charm dried everything quickly enough for it to be set away. Mary marvelled at it. Making jokes about how it would certainly make roasts easier. It was like the world softened again, and all of that pain in her chest eased for a moment.

The time went off, and Mary switched its dial before she took her oven mitts and reached into the oven, pulling the tray out before she set it on the stovetop.

“Do you have a cooling charm…or sp-spell?” Mary asked.

“Charm,” Agatha confirmed. And with a summoning spell, she drew heat from the cookies, dispersing it through the kitchen.

Mary reached for the biscuits tentatively then, touching them with the back of her fingers, before confirming their warmth. There, she took one in hand and handed it to Agatha to try.

Agatha took the biscuit in grip and then brought it to her mouth.

It was good. Better than she expected. Chewing and swallowing, she nodded at Mary. “Maybe mortal cooking isn’t so bad,” she advised.

“Maybe,” Mary advised. “Though I’m intrigued to see what witch's food is like.”

Agatha shrugged, finishing the biscuit and then licking the crumbs for fingertips. It was rude, but she hardly cared––and as she looked up, she watched as Mary smiled to herself as she did the same.

It was a friendly smile, she thought.

And then, the warmth of that faded as she realised there was nothing else for them to do. Her tea had turned cold, they'd finished baking and washing-up, and there was nothing else to say.

“I...should get going,” Agatha said.

“How about…you come and visit me on Saturdays. Help me bake. It gets…lonely here, and I could use a friend––and in turn, you can talk to me about your studies?”

Agatha felt a venomous comment rise and fall in her mouth. But it faded. Mary was friendly, and if she was honest with herself for once, baking the mortal way hadn't been so horrible. So, she nodded and smiled. “I’d like that.”

“I’d like that, too,” Mary said. And then she brightened, “Now, I have a container around here somewhere…” she shifted through her cupboards, moving things around before pulling out a set of Tupperware. Standing up, she set half of the biscuits inside the container before closing the lid and handing it back to her. “There. Finish them up, and maybe next week we’ll do an upside-down cake.”

At that, Agatha paused. She didn’t understand what that meant but smiled nonetheless. “I might share them…with Prudence.”

“I’m sure she’ll like that.”

Mary followed her to the front door, and there, Agatha paused. She felt as if she should thank her, but the words didn’t come easily. So she waited, watching as Mary looked at her softly as she asked, "Was there something else, dear?"

Agatha darted forward and kissed Mary’s lips, pressing against them gently.

Mary gasped against her, but before she could move away or press further against her, Agatha pulled back and smiled at her as she licked her lips. They tasted like almonds and vanilla. “Until next Saturday,” she said, before she left, teleporting back home as she watched a red flush spread across Mary Wardwell's cheekbones, the woman's chest rising and falling as she stared at her dumbstruck.

It was a lovely expression, and she savoured the image as she carried the Tupperware, back to where her dormitory was, sitting on the edge of the bed as she tried to think about what she wanted to do the rest of the day. Maybe find Prudence, though that would likely lead to questions.

There was no way she was going to something as stupid as head to the library and study. No, maybe she would just take it easy. Have a nap, and do some simple magics, look into things that might impress Mary. Perhaps some gardening spells? She could show her how they grew crops at the Academy and watch her.

As she set the container down on the bedside table, she realised that she didn’t taste grave dirt in her mouth for the first time. The taste might come back, but for now, Agatha opened up the container and pulled out a biscuit, taking a bite. Perhaps there were some acceptable mortals. Or maybe Mary Wardwell was the only acceptable mortal.

She'd find out.

[creepy-spooghetti]

A Hapless Endearment [Creepypasta x F. Reader]

Yayyy, the second chapter is done! Enjoy~

Chapter 2- Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

It's hard to make sense of anything around her. The static making itself ever-present in her mind is almost crippling. It blocks out all of her thoughts. Distant whispers erupt throughout the endless grays and blacks. It's like she's fallen into a void. Like she can't escape.

A breeze suddenly blows past her. It's burning hot but somehow icy-cold at the same time. It gives her a feeling of terror, utter, raw fear that grips at her heart and squeezes her lungs. She finds it hard to breathe. She looks around frantically. It's the same. Everything is the same. She can't even see a floor beneath her feet, but she knows it's there. It has to be there. What else would she be standing on?

The static grows stronger, louder, overwhelming her senses and making her grab at her head in a desperate effort to make it stop. The breeze billows and the voices become more distinct. But she still can't hear what they're saying. Are they even saying anything? Or are they just murmurs of agony riding the wind and reaching her ears?

"Y\n..."

That voice. Something about that voice sends shivers down her spine, makes her heart speed up to an unhealthy rate. Her gaze averts around, trying to find a source, but she ultimately fails.

"Child... come."

'Come'?  Come where? The static in her mind seems to thicken and still at the same time, greatly confusing her, and she furrows her eyebrows. A fog graces her feet as it rolls across the seemingly invisible ground, bringing a sensation of dread and impending doom with it. She backs away, though finds it does nothing, as the area surrounding her goes nowhere.

"Come to us..."

"Who are you?!" she yells, but immediately tenses. She can't hear herself. Her voice has been... muted. The static continues to get stronger, and she hits the side of her head, trying to stop it. It cancels out her thoughts, makes her feel helpless. All while a suffocating feeling settles in her chest and it becomes more and more difficult to collect oxygen.

"Join me... Come..."

***

Her grip on the sheets covering her torso tightens as she shoots up in bed, instantly being greeted by light from the morning sun shining in through the window and making her squint her eyes and turn her head. She takes deep breaths, savoring the air finally invading her lungs as she tries to calm her rapid heartbeat.

She has had a lot of weird dreams before, but none compare to the one she just woke up from. She stares at nothing, in particular, blinking away the tears that formed in her eyes and refusing to cry. Taking notice of the fluffy feline curled up on her thighs and looking up at her with startled eyes, clearly not happy about being woken up, she lets out a soft sigh and strokes his back, finally able to steady her nerves and focus on more positive things.

"Sorry I disturbed your precious beauty sleep," she mutters sarcastically, wiping her eyes to get herself awake. She tries to brush the dream off as nothing, just stress creeping its way into her head and giving her freaky thoughts. But something about it just... unnerves her. Like it is much more serious than what she wants herself to think.

Leaning her back against the wall of her bed, she runs her hands through her messy hair and releases a yawn, rubbing her eyes before grabbing her phone off of the stool that she had pushed up beside her bed the previous night and turning it on, curious to see if anybody sent her a message and wanting to get her mind off of the nightmare.

None. She drops her phone by her side and slumps down, disheartened. I guess nobody cares, anymore. Then again, who can blame them? I'm just an inconvenience, anyway.

She managed to catch a glimpse of the time in the top right corner of her phone before she turned it off, discovering it's around 9:40 in the morning. "Sorry, buddy. I've gotta get up," she says, looking down at the cat in her lap that just got settled and is now trying to go back to sleep. His ear twitches in recognition, and she runs her fingers through his thick fur before gently sliding him off of her and standing up.

When her bare feet touch the chilled, hard-wood floor, she flinches and jumps onto the fluffy rug in the room's center, trying to get used to the surface in her mind's still hazy state. She glances back at the bed, and her e\c orbs land on Marshmallow, who is looking at her in obvious distaste. She narrows her eyes.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. It's not like you can't sleep any other time of the day." He blinks and stands, stretching for a moment before turning away from her and lying back down. "Okay, fine, be that way. I bet you won't be mad when I give you some beef jerky later."

With that, she looks at the closet, then down at the floor, knowing what needs to be done and mentally preparing herself for it. C'mon Y\n, it's just a floor. A floor made of ice... but a floor, nonetheless. Quit being a pansy and go.

Sucking in a breath of encouragement, she steps onto the wood and lets out a squeak, her pace quickening the closer she gets to the closed door. "Right about now would be a good time to have slippers," she murmurs to herself, opening the door and stepping inside. She sifts through the different clothes, deciding what she wants to wear though not having to look for long.

She throws on some shorts and a t-shirt, socks, and a pair of tennis shoes before stepping back out and heading toward the bathroom, hoping that nobody else is occupying it at the moment. To her luck, once she's out of her room, she finds it empty and strolls inside, closing the door behind her and flicking the light switch up.

After flushing the toilet and washing her hands, she does everything in her morning routine before walking out into the hall and heading down the stairs, instantly catching the whiff of a pleasant scent wafting from the kitchen. Farrah takes notice of her granddaughter entering the doorway and sends her a welcoming smile as she takes a pan of biscuits out of the oven.

"Good morning, hun," she chirps, removing her oven mitts and turning to face her. "How did you sleep?" Y\n walks closer and shrugs, remembering the endless, dull scenery and the eerie voice whispering those words to her in her head.

"I mean... I had a pretty unsettling dream but, other than that, I slept fine." Farrah hums and tilts her head slightly. "What about you, Nana?"

"A lot more peacefully now that I know you're here under the same roof," she replies, giving her a brief hug, which Y\n gladly returns. "So, you hungry? I made breakfast!" Y\n glances over at the stovetop and nearly drools when she sees freshly-cooked bacon resting on a plate, scrambled eggs in a skillet, and the same pan of biscuits placed beside them. She can feel her stomach start to rumble the more she stares at it, so she just nods over-enthusiastically and goes to retrieve a plate and fork from where they were set on the island in preparation.

"This all looks delicious, Nana," she comments, scooping some eggs onto her plate after getting several pieces of fried pork. Her eyes meet Farrah's, and she sends her a grateful look. "Thanks for making it all."

"Oh, it was no trouble at all, just like you, my dear, are no trouble at all." She pats her affectionately on the head before sliding her hand down to cup her cheek and smiling. "Now go eat your food and enjoy it." Y\n nods, taking a step back and laying the plate full of food on the counter, aiming to get butter and jelly out of the fridge. She also grabs a spoon and butter knife afterward, using them to smear the two substances across the soft inside of her biscuits before grabbing her plate once again and strolling through the living area and into the dining room.

She pulls a chair out from under the table and takes her seat, anxious to get some food in her stomach and finally start her day. Farrah soon appears with her own platter of breakfast and sits beside her, the two chatting about various things as they eat, and time seems to fly by. At around 10:25, Y\n rises from the chair and heads back to the kitchen, feeling properly filled-up as she rinses her dishes.

Her gaze averts to the window behind the sink, being greeted by the bright morning sunlight and the colorful scenery that she doesn’t get the advantage of seeing in the city, where she, unfortunately, was born and raised. She spots her grandfather, sitting in an old chair out on the lawn and admiring nature at its finest, seemingly lost in thought.

Allowing a fond smile to stretch across her face, she dries her hands on a towel hanging from a rack before poking her head back into the living room. “Hey, Nana…”

“Yes, hun?” She twists her body around slightly to meet Y\n’s eyes in curiosity, and Y\n grips the door frame with her hand and leans forward, letting her arm keep her stabilized so she doesn’t fall over.

“I think I’m gonna go outside for a while if you don’t need me here for anything.” Farrah nods.

“That’s a good idea, Marshmallow needs to be let out, anyway.” As if on cue, the fluffy feline walks down the stairs, tail high in the air and head raised as he jumps to the floor and stops in front of the closed door, sitting down and looking at Y\n expectantly. “Where are you gonna go?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, glancing down at Marshmallow and meeting his bright blue orbs. “I was just thinking about going on a walk, or something.”

“Yes, some fresh air will do you good after breathing all of that polluted city stuff.” She takes a sip of her coffee thoughtfully. "Just be careful and keep an eye out for bears. Or anything dangerous, for that matter."

"Yes, ma'am." She nods in understanding and steps over to the door, opening both it and the screen and allowing Marshmallow to prance through and onto the porch, likely eager to go about his daily hunt and roam. Following behind him and shutting the door behind her, a warm, familiar breeze hits her in the face as she does so, and she once again averts her eyes over to Phil. "Good morning, Pops." Her voice raises just enough to get his attention, and sure enough, his head turns her direction before the corner of his lips quirk upward in a cheery smile.

"Hey, hummingbird! Did you sleep okay?" She bites the inside of her cheek and leisurely makes her way down the stone path leading toward the gate. Thinking back to her eldritch dream, she stuffs her hands in her pockets and answers quietly.

"As well as I could, I guess..." Though when he doesn't seem to hear her, she rewords her sentence and speaks up. "I slept fine. What about you?"

"Ah, well. You know how it is with all these old joints and bones. They never give you a break."

"Sorry." She breathes a sympathetic laugh. "But I can't say I have any experience in that field." He releases a snort in response and leans back in the old patio chair, raising a thick, bushy eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's 'cause you're a spring chicken. Trust me darlin', the years'll catch up to you eventually. And then you'll look like me." He pats his rotund belly for emphasis, and she rolls her eyes playfully and can't stop the amused huff from exiting her lips.

"I'm sure I will, Pops."

"Where are ya going?" She unlatches the gate and glances at him before nodding her head in the direction of the opaque forest surrounding the quaint property.

"Walking. I thought I'd try to... get a better feel for this place, again." She notices his face seems to soften ever so slightly, and he briefly looks past the many tall trees, into the shaded woods, and lets a breath out of his nose before meeting her gaze once more.

"I'm sorry you haven't been here to visit, Y\n." Her chest constricts and she shifts her eyes down to the ground uncomfortably. "It's not right for your dad- your parents- to put themselves before you. They shouldn't treat you the way they do. I wish you'd let me do something about it." She only shrugs solemnly, her mood doing a one-eighty and dropping to the floor, though she tries to mask it and instead forces a smile on her face that she hopes is reassuring.

"It's isn't your fault. Dad's just... just a jerk and Mom is..." She sees it's difficult to find correct words to describe her mother, and after a moment to think, shakes her head dismissively. "They-they have issues. But yeah, don't be sorry, I'm okay. Two more years and I'll be outta there, anyway."

"Well... you're more than welcome to stay here, for as long as you need. It gets lonely around here without anyone visiting us." She brushes a strand of h\c hair out of her eyes and tilts her head curiously.

"Nobody visits you? Not even Aunt Darcy?" Her stomach does a concerned flip when she sees his facial expression turn from mildly sympathetic to alarmed in an instant, and her eyebrows furrow, questions zipping through her mind at lightning speed. His hands, she notices, clench the arms of the chair and his breathing seems to have quickened, if only slightly. "Pops...?"

"I-I, uh..." He lets an anxious breath flow out of his mouth as he runs his wrinkled fingers through his hair. "Yeah, no, your aunt doesn't come. She hasn't, not in a while..." Y\n can sense the tension in this conversation, and how strange Phil's sudden change in behavior is. Hesitantly, she speaks, her voice low.

"Wh-why? Did you guys fight or something?" Although she hasn't seen her aunt in over five years, she still remembers her clearly, and she knows that she wouldn't ever willingly avoid Phil and Farrah. Unlike Darcy's brother, she isn't a sour person and wouldn't let something as ridiculous as a disagreement get in the way of their relationship, especially since her son Wyatt always loved hanging around here.

"No." He shakes his head lightly and refuses to meet the e\c eyes of the girl as he collects his thoughts and puts them into words. "Look... we'll talk about it later, alright? You just go and enjoy your walk." He dismisses her with a wave of his hand, though she doesn't move, and instead stares at him with an obscure expression painted across her face.

"What's wrong, Pops? Did something bad happen?"

"It's fine, sweetheart," he reassures, his tone vagarious. "Be careful out there. Don't want to get mauled by a wild dog, do ya?"

"Gee, what a pleasant thought," she mutters sarcastically, but figures that he isn't going to give her the answers that she so desperately craves at this point. I'll try my luck with Nana when I get back, she thinks, letting out a dismayed sigh before stepping through the gate and locking it back. "No, sir. I'll be careful."

When she receives no response, she turns on her heel and heads toward where she remembers the old trail used to be, the previous subject heavy on her mind. That was weird. Has Darcy really not come to visit her parents at all? For how long? She supposes that she has been gone for a very prolonged amount of time and she's sure to have missed some things, but just how important are these things? Something obviously happened between her grandparents and her aunt. But what? Hopefully, she'll get a reasonable answer when she comes back.

She walks under the willow tree beside the cottage and is unable to stop herself from glancing down the road, where her mom and dad disappeared a mere day ago and left her behind with the parents that her father absolutely refuses to talk to, reconnect with in any way, all because of a petty argument.

Nah. She narrows her eyes in indignation. He's just always been selfish. And unfair. And a terrible person. That 'argument' was just what pushed him over the edge. What even was their argument about? She wracks her mind but can't seem to recall any moment where her dad actually explained what was going on, not to her, anyway. In fact, the only time he graced her with an answer at all was when she gathered up the courage to ask him why they haven't visited Nana and Pops in so long. She believes that she had just turned twelve a few weeks prior when she became curious about it and walked up to him one day in the living room.

"Hey, Dad?" He hadn't even looked up at her. Didn't give any attention to his only child. "Daddy?"

"What do you want." It came out as more of a demand than it was an actual question. Still, he didn't look up at her, and she had taken a seat beside him on the couch.

"Um, I was just wondering... we haven't seen Nana and Pops in a while-" She cut herself off when she was met with the sharp, threatening glare of her father, becoming instantly uncomfortable as she stared back uncertainly. It had taken her off-guard, as she had never seen her dad's eyes as cold as they were at that moment. Especially when they were looking at her.

"I don't want to hear anything about them." The way he had said that sentence made her heart drop in concern, and she flashed him a bewildered look.

"...What? Wh-why?"

"Don't ask questions. Just don't mention them." Puzzled would have been a good word for how Y\n was feeling at that moment. Thoughts were swarming her mind, and despite the hard, final tone of voice her father had, she continued.

"But... they're your parents? A-and I miss them. Don't you miss them, too? It's been almost a year-"

"What'd I say?" He snapped at her, his lips pressed together into a firm, angered line. "Don't. Mention. Them."

"Dad-"

"My God, you're more persistent than your mother." He shot her a disappointed look, though she only craned her neck to the side.

"What's wrong...?"

"Arguments, Y\n. Arguments about crap that doesn't concern you." She couldn't stop herself from flinching slightly at the harshness of his words.

"Dad..."

"Stop talking and go to your room." When she stayed still, looking at him with wide, questioning eyes, he released a huff of irritation. "Now."

Shaking her head disapprovingly at the distant memory, she eventually rediscovers the path that she traversed down so many times, back when she was merely a child, before she had so many problems in her life. It appears to have not been used in quite a while, as there are weeds growing up from the ground, low-hanging branches swooping down and entangling together, making a sort of archway. The grass is extremely overgrown, and just by looking at it, she would guess that each blade would have to be around three feet high.

She suddenly looks down at her bare legs, a little nervous about stepping through the tall grass likely housing ticks and traced with thorns. Maybe I should've worn jeans instead... Letting out a defeated sigh, she cautiously steps through the tall, twisty foliage, trying her best to avoid getting scratched by a brier or catching her foot in a weed and tripping.

She glances up and ahead of her, feeling relieved that the shrubbery thins out just a few feet down the path and should be easily manageable. She just has to get there in one piece. Carefully, she takes several slow steps forward, the grass tickling her legs each time she moves, though she brushes it off and focuses on making it through.

Should’ve brought some branch cutters or something. After a couple of minutes, she arrives in a less hazardous area, and instinctively reaches down to brush her legs and feet off, just in case there are some bugs that may have been taking refuge on them, though to her ease, finds none. She places her hands into her pockets and continues her stroll through the peaceful forest, savoring the natural sounds erupting from all around her.

The chirps of the birds and rustling of leaves create a relaxing cadence; a sound that she rarely ever gets the pleasure of hearing. She only just realizes how much she missed being here, able to roam around, enjoy the area without the interruption of her parents, city life, or just drama in general. Letting out a tranquil sigh, she wonders how long she can stay here. How long will her parents be gone? It isn't like they care about her absence anyway, that much is apparent. The only reason they'd come back is because of their work, their fancy jobs working for some billionaire company that Y\n could care less about. Sure, they make a pretty good living off of it, and it isn't the worst job in the world, but it takes up all of their life. At least when she was little they made time for her, but now? They don't even bat an eye in her direction.

Do they even still love me? It's a question she's asked herself a multitude of times throughout the last few months, but the answer was always too painful to accept. They haven't said it since... since I was fourteen. She remembers it clearly. It was her fourteenth birthday, they had a cool party, her best friends came, back when she still had some, and her parents took a little time to make her feel special, which, even at that point, was a rare trait to exhibit. But they did it.

Her father had hugged her and told her that she's beautiful, her mother had stroked her hair, explaining to her how much she meant to her. That she loved her. It was the last wholesome moment they ever shared together, and thinking about that makes her chest ache with loneliness. Although she wants to think that she still holds a special place in their hearts, she knows that the odds aren't in her favor.

She allows a sad chuckle to exit her l\c lips as she shakes her head. Oh, well. A girl can dream, right?

___

The masked male walks swiftly through the dense forest, staying attentive as he listens to everything around him. The quiet tweets of blue jays, the rustling of leaves, the flow of a nearby stream- all normal. Which is good. That means nothing out-of-the-ordinary is lurking around, following him. At least, nothing that isn't remaining silent. But he's grown accustomed to his surroundings, and he's confident that he'd be able to recognize a threat, whatever form it may take, from wherever it may have been hiding at.

He feels his phone vibrate from within the confines of his pocket and inwardly rolls his eyes. That's the fifth time in the last three minutes that Ben has texted him. He's sure that he's still going on about how something is "urgent" and that he has to "get here ASAP". What does he think he's doing? Moving at a snail's pace? Ben's house is over half a mile away from his own, and he's only been walking for about five minutes. No matter how speedy and agile he can be, he still isn't Superman. Shouldn't Ben know that? Moving from one place to another takes time.

After around two more minutes, he finally sees the old cabin come into view, shrouded by vines, weeds, and various other greenery. To oblivious, inexperienced eyes, it's nearly undetectable, which is perfect. It doesn't draw attention, which is something that Hoody, among others, greatly prefer. Any poor soul that may wander this far into the woods and see it, or any of the others, will be taken care of. Immediately. They can't take a risk. It would be too dangerous.

By the time the phone buzzes a sixth time, Hoody is already coming to a stop in front of the rustic-looking door that's made of the same taupe ash wood as the rest of the house, with some minor improvements to better ensure safety. The whole place, whether one's standing from afar or looking at it close-up, seems like it would be very insubstantial and a hazard to be around, much less live in. But in all reality, it makes quite a good home for the two that take residence there, and it's most definitely safer than it may first appear to be, thanks to a few key individuals and their useful carpenter abilities.

He knocks quietly on the hard surface, stuffing his hands inside of his pockets and waiting patiently for Ben to stop hounding him with text messages, notice that he's right outside, and allow him in. Shouldn't he already know where he is? That's why he installed one hundred cameras around the area, right? To observe what's happening without having to leave the comfort of his chair? Or perhaps that's what he wants to see Hoody about; complain that his cameras are malfunctioning and ask for assistance. Though he doesn't know how much he'll be able to assist him because he doesn't have half the knowledge that Ben has regarding electronics. But he'll do what he can if it means getting one of their main lines of defense up and running again.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when yet another message comes through his phone and makes it vibrate against his leg, a feeling he's really beginning to get irritated by. Releasing a muffled sigh and deciding it would be better to just check whatever text he just received instead of ignoring it altogether, he pulls out the small device, and swipes down on the notification tab, seeing not six, but ten unread messages from the teenager himself, all of which consist of either "where are you?", "you gotta get here quickly", or "hurry your butt up, you depressed son of a cracker".

"Ah, screw you, too," he mutters to the screen, knowing full well that its target won't be able to hear him. Unless he has the audio turned on and is secretly listening to him talk. The little creep, he can't help but think before he finally reaches the last and most recent message.

Just come in, the door's unlocked

Obeying the message, he grips the knob of the door with his gloved hand and gives it one swift turn, pushing once he hears a small 'click' and entering the cozy-looking household while shoving his phone into the back pocket of his jeans where it rightfully belongs. The interior is nothing special; a kitchen with a small bar and plenty of counter space to spare to the right, a living room with an old, dingy-looking sofa, a couple of chairs, and a coffee table to the left, and a narrow hallway straight ahead, which has five different doors leading to five different places. Two of them lead to bedrooms, one a bathroom, one a laundry room, and the one at the very end is an entrance into the basement, also known as Ben's office.

Shutting the door behind him, he ventures farther into the familiar area, counting on the sunbeams currently shining through the dirty windows to light his path and take him to his destination. Where is his destination? Not able to see Ben nor his roommate anywhere, he assumes that either one or both have to be in the basement, so he begins his trek through the darkened hall until he reaches the closed door, once again wrapping his hand around the metal knob and giving it a firm twist before it creaks open, giving him access into the electronically-lit room below.

He can hear faint voices getting louder as he calmly walks down the staircase, one reasonably deep and the other about a pitch or so higher. He descends downward until reaching the ground, glancing to his left and being met with two easily-recognizable figures due to their odd features.

One of them is sat rather comfortably in a computer chair that he no doubt stole from Amazon, his blond hair swept to the side in a messy, boyish style. He sports a pair of converse, black skinny jeans, a dark green Halo 5 t-shirt, and a beanie. His appearance would be startlingly normal if he lacked the glowing, red eyes and the tears of blood that slowly cascade down his deathly pale cheeks.

Standing leaned against the wall next to him is someone nearly three feet taller, body clothed in all black save for the navy blue mask that covers his face and the strands of copper-brown hair sticking out from under his hood. His eyes are nothing but soulless, empty pits that replace where his once chestnut ones used to be, the sockets constantly leaking a thick black substance similar to that of tar and leaving sticky trails down his mask.

Both heads turn to look at Hoody when he appears behind them, and Ben instantly jumps up, his shorter-than-average height noticeable, especially when compared to taller people, like Hoody and Jack. "It's about time you get here, slowpoke!"

Ignoring the comment, the man clad in a mustard-yellow hoodie crosses his arms impatiently and eyes the one in the corner of the room for a moment before turning his attention back on the blond in front of him. "Now, what exactly was so important that it couldn't wait a couple of hours?" His voice is low and calm, but authoritative, and Ben glances at Jack anxiously.

"We think that egg head is going after someone else to make his slave." Hoody raises a brow beneath his ski mask and gazes down at the boy curiously.

"How do you know?"

"Cause Jack's been getting these-these, um, feelings? For a while. I don't know, wh-what kind of feelings, like-like bad kind of, weird and freaky feelings, maybe since a week or so ago, then he walked by somebody after, y'know, stocking up on his, uhm, diet... and he said they emitted a really strong, like, odor? Or something? And then-"

"Ben," Hoody speaks, cutting the boy off in the middle of his sentence and ultimately silencing him. "Just let Jack explain it." His lips part to say something, though he only lets out a quiet huff after a moment before plopping back down in front of the multiple monitors of different areas in the forest and leaning backward in a sulking manner. "Right." He sighs and signals for Jack to begin speaking, to which he nods and complies.

"I've been feeling... strange, lately," he starts, his voice deep and muffled though decipherable nonetheless. His hands are stuffed into his hoodie pockets as he lightly boosts himself off of the wall with his foot and stands at his full height. "A kind of... tingling, in my chest and mind, but not a good one. More of a... ominous kinda tingling, like something bad is about to happen, or someone's fixing to get hurt. But I don't know who."

Hoody processes this newly-received information and listens with keen ears, inquisitively waiting for the eyeless man to continue.

"But earlier today, after leaving a house, this feeling got a lot stronger. And it was really sudden, like, it just hit me. I couldn't figure out what was happening until after I looked around a bit and noticed someone walking down some grown-out path. And somehow, immediately after I saw her, I knew that she was in danger."

"Wait, wait, wait," Ben interrupts, holding out his hands in a silencing gesture. "It was a girl? You didn't tell me that."

"Because I was waiting to inform the more mature ones who actually focus on the situation rather than something as ridiculous as gender," he remarks, making Ben scoff. Hoody, ignoring Ben altogether, turns to completely face Jack in order to further question him about the somewhat surprising matter, neck craned to the side slightly.

"Okay, but why does this mean that it's connected somehow to him? Did she cough? Did you hear any static?" He merely shakes his head in the negative.

"No. I just know that something sinister is going on and that feeling I've been getting the past couple of days is definitely coming from her. Just an evil, dangerous aura surrounded her, which is why I'm sure that he's involved." Hoody rubs at his head, finding it hard to doubt a word that Jack's saying. He's never been one to lie, after all, and being a reincarnated version of his former self gives him certain... supernatural abilities, that others don't have. Not even the two ghosts of their group.

He stands there a moment, still and quiet as his mind swarms with questions, before looking at the navy blue mask but having to avoid direct eye-contact with the empty sockets in his face due to making him feel uncomfortable. Not that it can be seen, anyway. "Um... alright, well. What do you suggest we do about it?" He earns an unsure shrug in response.

"I guess we could just eliminate her. It would throw off whatever his plan is and get her out of the cycle before she inevitably gets hurt."

"Unless he brings her back," he points out. "Then she'd be more powerful and we'd have another one to fight against."

"That... does make sense. But we can't just leave her there to become a victim. Either she'll accept him or he kills her. Which would just be one more innocent wiped out by his hands."

"We could bring her back here!" Ben suddenly speaks up, once again rising out of his seat and painting a confident look across his ghostly features. "I mean, she wouldn't be in immediate danger and we could tell her what's going on so she knows what to do and what to avoid."

"But then she'd be endangering us." He shoves his hands back into his pockets and takes a step closer. “And what if she’s already under his influence, huh? We’d be leading him straight toward us and there’s no way we’re strong enough nor do we have the numbers to fight him and his group of freaks.”

“Yeah, but what if she’s not? I mean, we need the extra set of hands, anyway. She could be useful!”

“At what cost? The lives and freedom of everyone here? It would be stupid to bring her here, especially since we don’t know anything about her.”

“Jack!” Ben turns his attention to the tall, lanky man standing silent, hoping to get somewhere with him. “You’re the demon here, so is she dangerous?” He plants his masked face in the palm of his hand in the universal sign of ‘oh my God, you’re an idiot’ before answering, his voice low.

“I don’t know, Ben. She seemed totally normal, but I didn’t get a very good look.”

“There ya go, boomer.” His red pupils shift back up to look at Hoody, his eyebrows raised. “She’s not dangerous. We can bring her.”

“For the record, I’m only six years older than you,” he starts, attempting to bite down his exasperation with the teenager and speaking with a level tone, to which he receives an eye roll. “And Jack didn’t say she wasn’t dangerous, he just said she looked normal. They’re two totally different things.”

“Whatever.” He places his hands behind his head carelessly. “I still vote that we bring her here.”

“We’ll ask the others and get their opinions. Jack,” His head turns to look at the mentioned boy, “is there anything else I should know about these ‘feelings’ or the girl you saw?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay then. Ben, call everyone and tell them to meet up at my place within the next thirty minutes.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument, and without question, Ben whips out his, now slightly outdated, cellphone and begins to text each person in his contacts exactly what Hoody told him to say.

“Oh, by the way, I fixed your phone.” He pulls out a small flip-phone from his pocket and tosses it to Jack, and he effortlessly catches it and slides it into his pocket, muttering a ‘thanks’ while he does so. Hoody turns to leave, though before he starts climbing the stairs he speaks once more.

“You both need to come, too. We all need to discuss this and figure something out before tomorrow.” They nod in reply, and he disappears from their sight.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Seventy Nine

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

February 6th, 1987

Remy woke up from his dream with a start, looking around. He was still in his bedroom, which was a promising sign. He couldn’t go to his parents with a scary dream, seeing as last time his mother sent him back to bed with a growl and a threat, but he wanted to make sure everyone was still alive.

He crept into his parents room, and saw the steady rise and fall of his mom and dad’s chests. He tip-toed across the hallway and peered into Vanessa’s room, confirming she was breathing as well. He slipped into Toby’s room, to find Toby reading a book by flashlight. “Hey,” Toby said softly. “Bad dreams?”

Remy reluctantly nodded. He pointed at the book. “Mom and Dad told you not to stay up all night reading.”

Toby shrugged. “Don’t tell them I did? If you don’t, I won’t tell them anything you say tonight. Want to talk about your dream?”

“A little,” Remy admitted.

Toby patted his bed and Remy climbed up on it, sitting at the foot of the bed as Toby patiently listened to him.

  January 5th, 2003

Remy felt the shift on the bed before he really registered anything else around him. Without thinking, he rolled over and wrapped an arm around Emile in bed, murmuring, “You okay, honey?”

He didn’t get a response, and that’s when he cracked an eye open, to find Emile struggling out from under Remy’s arm, crying. Remy retrieved his arm and pushed himself upright in bed. “Emile? Honey?”

Emile was still crying and whimpering, but his eyes were squeezed shut tight and he didn’t show any signs of being awake. Remy’s hand touched Emile’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, and Emile bolted upright in bed with a gasp, shaking like a leaf. “Emile? Are you awake?”

Looking over to Remy, Emile paled and Remy blinked once, twice. Remy wasn’t getting any verbal responses, and his worry was only growing. “Emile,” Remy said softly. “Are you okay?” Remy reached a hand out and Emile flinched. Remy retreated like he had been burned. “...I’m gonna give you your space, honey, okay? Whenever you’re ready to talk, come get me.”

And with that, Remy left the room. He went to his old room, which Emile had been helping Remy turn into a mini-office until they could move somewhere bigger and Remy could get “a proper office” as Emile had put it.

He laid down on the bed in the corner of the room and stared at the ceiling. Obviously, Emile had a nightmare of some kind. Something involving Remy. Remy wanted to help, but he knew that if Emile had a nightmare with him in it, it might be counterintuitive to force Emile to hang around Remy until he felt better.

Remy was drifting off to sleep, worry about Emile swirling in his head when there was shuffling in the doorway. Remy cracked an eye open to find Emile standing there, pale as a ghost. “Mm?” Remy asked.

Emile opened his mouth, before shutting it again. He looked at the floor, then up at Remy, unshed tears in his eyes. “Promise me that you won’t drink or smoke.”

Remy blinked, uncomprehending for a second before he said, “Honey, I’ve never smoked and I haven’t drank in years, and I promise I would never do either of those things in excess. What brought this on?”

“...Had a bad dream,” Emile said reluctantly. “You got high and...wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Oh,” Remy said, not really sure what else to say. “And you’re...worried I might do that in real life?”

“No, no. No, I don’t think you’d ever do that in real life, inebriated or otherwise,” Emile said, sitting down on Remy’s bed. “I just worry about what would happen if you did get drunk or high, and someone else didn’t have your standards of character.”

“Wait...” Remy said, frowning. “You have...a very vivid dream of me...doing that...to you, so vivid that you flinch away from me when you first wake up, and you worry about me being violated once you’re fully awake? You’re not...mad at me for it?”

“It was a dream, Rem, I’m not going to hold you accountable for a dream,” Emile said. “But...this is a college town. You’ve been to parties, so have I. And...it’s not like we’ve never had close calls.”

“Wait...what?” Remy asked, blood running cold. “We’ve had close calls?”

“Back when you still drank at parties. Like, drank enough to actually get depressed and not remember much. You were getting hit on by a junior back when you were still in college. I had to drag you back to the dorms with the promise of Halloweentown?”

“She was...she was trying to...?” Remy stammered.

“It looked that way. I thought I told you,” Emile said with a frown.

“Oh, my God. If you did, I forgot about it entirely,” Remy said. “I mean, I know I’m dumb when I’m drunk, but...”

“Hey, this is not a matter of smart or dumb. This could happen to anyone,” Emile said. “And I’m very thankful it didn’t happen to you. But I don’t ever want it to happen to you, or have a chance of happening to you, again. So I don’t want you drinking or smoking.”

“...Honestly, that’s such a good reason to stay sober,” Remy said. “Like, if you think I’m not going to drink champagne at our wedding, you’re dead wrong, but I’m not getting drunk off it.”

“And you wouldn’t...”

Remy shook his head. “Mio amore, let’s be honest here. I couldn’t afford a cigarette habit, let alone anything heavier. I’m safe, you’re safe, neither of us are going to get into trouble over that sort of thing.”

Emile blew out a breath. “Okay...okay. You’re right. I might have gone a little overboard in the fear department.”

Remy shook his head and leaned up to kiss Emile’s temple. “You had a vivid dream. It happens. And if it will help you sleep better, I’ll keep away from the alcohol except when cooking.”

“Yeah, I think that would help...” Emile took a breath. “I know it doesn’t exactly inconvenience you, but I’m still sorry that you would have to take those extra steps.”

“I’m not,” Remy said. “If it helps you feel better, I’ll do it happily. Besides, it’s probably better to not get in the habit of drinking whenever I feel like it anyway.”

“I mean, drinking a little is not a bad thing,” Emile sighed. “I admittedly feel a bit like I’m overreacting. But not enough to tell you to not take those extra steps.”

“And like I said, I don’t mind taking them if it helps you feel at ease,” Remy said, hugging Emile. “What say you to an early morning walk when virtually no one else is awake, just because?”

“Sounds like it would be chilly, I’m not sure...” Emile said.

“Hmm...then what about we make breakfast, together, just to spend some time together?” Remy proposed.

Emile smiled. “I can definitely get behind that.”

Remy grinned. “Excellent! Come on, let’s get to work!”

Dragging a laughing Emile to the kitchen, Remy grabbed the things they needed for a small breakfast. He didn’t want to do anything too huge, just enough to get both of their minds off of Emile’s nightmare. “What do you say to an egg sandwich?” Remy offered.

“Sounds perfect,” Emile said with a little smile.

Remy nodded and started to grease up a pan, while Emile got the bread slices toasting. “You want turkey on it, too?” Remy offered.

“Oh, that sounds great,” Emile said, rubbing his hands together.

Remy grabbed sliced turkey from the refrigerator and tossed it in the pan. As it sizzled and cooked, Remy looked over to Emile, who was staring at the toaster in consternation. “You okay?” he asked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” Emile said, shaking his head slightly. “I was just caught in my own thoughts. Dice said he was going to call me soon-ish.”

“Yeah?” Remy asked. Admittedly, he had forgotten that Dice was still looking for Toby. He had been swamped between working on research for Sleep Easy and still working at the other shops in the area.

“Yeah. He said that almost all his contacts had gotten back to him, and he would call me if he got something sooner than our arranged meeting, but I haven’t gotten a phone call or an email yet.”

“Ah,” Remy said, feeling a little disappointed. Dice had said they were “eighty percent done” for two months now. He didn’t know how long this whole thing would take, but he didn’t think it should be this long. Remy removed the turkey from the pan and put it on the waiting slices of toast before cracking open eggs. “Are you hopeful about the next meet-up?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” Emile said. “I mean, it’s been months. Something has to give eventually. And I really trust Dice. I don’t know why, but I do. He’s not just half-heartedly searching, I’ve asked him to go more in-depth about his searches with me and he has. He’s really looking, Rem. He’ll find Toby.”

“Yeah,” Remy sighed. “I just wish that it would happen sooner, rather than later.”

Emile offered Remy a small, sad smile. “I know. It’s not easy to wait for anything, but especially something like this.”

“Tell me about it,” Remy griped. “Like, I knew if Dice was any good, he’d take his time, but it’s been literal months and we haven’t gotten any further than ‘eighty percent close’ and it’s...enough to make me want to bang my head against a wall. I’m just...frustrated.”

“Yeah,” Emile said softly.

Remy sighed and ran a hand down his face before dishing up the eggs. “I don’t want to talk about this so in-depth. I don’t need that kind of stress in my life right now. Houses. Do we have an estimate on houses?”

“A couple,” Emile said, nodding. As Remy threw a bit of spices onto the sandwiches he said, “There’s a few townhouses for sale nearby. I say nearby, it’s like a fifteen minute drive. Forty five minute commute to college by car, we’ll have to coordinate a lot more when it comes to who gets the car when.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Remy said, passing a sandwich to Emile. “I think we could make it work, though. And, we wouldn’t have to deal with my mother coming around anymore.”

“True,” Emile said with a little grin. “Should I call the realtors? See if we can get something set up?”

“Definitely,” Remy agreed. “I want to see these townhouses for myself.” Emile grinned and Remy smiled back. “It’s weird being an adult. I thought adults have everything together, always. When in actuality you’re just flying by the seat of your pants with actual lives at stake.”

That earned a snort from Emile, and Remy laughed. “It’s true!” he defended.

“I never said it wasn’t,” Emile said. “That is...painfully accurate.”

Remy sighed and shook his head. “I’m...more stressed than usual recently. I didn’t want to say anything at first, but I think you ought to know. The new shop is amazing, but it adds an extra layer of work to everything I already need to do, and it’s stressful.”

“Should we get a computer?” Emile asked. “So you don’t have to go to the library to do research?”

Remy grimaced. “A computer is a lot of money, Emile.”

“So’s gas money when you have to research stuff at the library for your shop,” Emile said with a shrug. “In the long run, it might be cheaper.”

Remy shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “Maybe once the shop is doing comfortably.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Emile agreed. “I can’t wait for the day you open it up and there’s a line going out the door.”

Remy laughed. “Come on, Emile. My coffee’s good but it’s not that good.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Rem,” Emile warned.

“I don’t think I am, I’m just being honest,” Remy said. “Of course I’ll puff myself up in advertisements, but I know I’m not perfect, and I always have room to learn and improve. My coffee is good, yeah. The blends I make when the managers let me use leftover grounds are unique in a good way. But...this is going to be a lot of work, and there’s going to be a lot of room for self-doubt.”

Emile tutted. “Come on, Rem, you’ll do fine.”

“You say that now,” Remy laughed, somewhat hysterical.

Emile kissed Remy softly, and Remy melted into the kiss, letting all of his stress melt away if only for a brief moment. “I’m sure you’ll do amazing, Rem. This is you. You won’t let your business go under if you have any means of saving it. I doubt you’ll even need saving in the first place. I’ve heard people talking about your shop who I haven’t even talked to about it. All our friends are in your corner. You’ve got this.”

Remy smiled softly. “You really think so.”

“I do,” Emile said.

“Then what could possibly go wrong?” Remy asked with a grin. “I’ve got you and our friends on my side, this’ll be great!”

[ivyontheholodeck]

"Have you always been able to do that?" Buddy asked intently.

Okay, so this is a little more than five sentences, but this AU has been bouncing around in my head for a while now. Content warning for brief mention of childhood hunger.

“Have you always been able to do that?” Buddy asked intently.Juno nearly dropped the grappling hook. He resisted the urge to swear aloud.Of course she’d noticed. How the hell had he thought he’d be able to pull the wool over Buddy Aurinko’s eyes? He finished looping the rope and stored it in his pack. “Do what?”“Don’t waste both our times, darling,” she said sternly as she strapped on a pair of night vision goggles. Juno reluctantly followed suit. The damn things fogged up in seconds, and he gritted his teeth. He wasn’t even sweating that much - sure, climbing the side of the tower had been a workout, but Set’s low gravity made it doable. “That guard would have raised the alarm and gotten us all caught if you hadn’t knocked him unconscious. I shan’t be mad, darling, but as your captain I do need to know all the tools at our disposal.”“Maybe he slipped?” Juno tried. He readied his blaster as Buddy checked under the four-poster bed. She ran her gloved hands over the side table and knocked gently on the wall. “Also, shouldn’t we focus on the mansion we’re robbing?”“Good thieves can multitask, Juno. If you’re unable to keep watch and hold up a conversation at the same time, then you shouldn’t spend nearly so much time chatting with Rita when you’re on duty.” The sound of her knocking changed close to a life-size portrait of the woman they’re robbing. Gentle as a doting mother, Buddy lifted the painting off the wall, revealing the safe behind. She laid her hands over its keyhole and closed her eyes, steam curling off her skin as she focused her Ability. With a hiss, the safe door swung open, its locking mechanism melted to slag.Buddy shook out her hands briskly and plucked an egg-sized diamond from within. Even knowing she’s invulnerable to heat, Juno couldn’t help but wince at the safe’s dull red glow.“The Hyperion City Police Department’s records list you as a low-level empath,” Buddy observed, securing the diamond in a pouch around her neck. “You must have worked hard to disguise your Ability.”

He and Benten both had. Powerful Abilities in Oldtown got you scouted by gangs, who didn’t take kindly to being told no. Juno’d had it easier - he just had to keep quiet about the shit he could make people do. Let them believe he could only feel their emotions. Maybe he let a little bit of fear bleed over to his opponent in a fistfight, but otherwise he kept it under wraps. 

Benten, on the other hand, hated hiding his Ability. Juno could feel his dissatisfaction every time Benten’s feet started to itch and his gaze turned skyward. He couldn’t blame his twin. It was a hell of a thing to be reduced to levitating, when Benten’s entire soul ached to cut loose and fly.

Buddy was still waiting for an answer. It wasn’t worth trying to convince her that she was wrong - Juno could sense her conviction glittering with curiosity.Hell, if the cat was out of the bag, he might as well have some fun. Reaching out, he searched for the glimmer of minds throughout the building. Seven in total, he’d guess five guards and two socialites based on the baseline self-satisfaction in their emotional states. He didn’t have the strength to knock them all unconscious, not from this distance, but he could get them out of the way.Drawing on the hunger that lurked in his bones, even twenty years removed from Oldtown, Juno pushed a wave of NEED TO EAT toward the mansion’s occupants. He was rewarded with the ripples of alarm and craving as all around the house people abandoned their posts to converge on the kitchen.His skull throbbing, Juno gave Buddy a crooked smile. “Climbing’s a pain. Want to leave through the front entrance?”

[scarlet-nin]

I'm Not An Idiot (But I Think You Are)

@ilyiccia I used your second prompt on your 50 Tua writing list!

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves

Prompt: Diego tried to hide an injury once. He failed pretty miserably.

Set in: Childhood. They're twelve.

Out of all people in the house, of course, it had to be Klaus who found him.

Anybody else would’ve been better. Hell, he’d rather have Luther here than Four, because Number One was obvious and somewhat dense enough to fool when one knew how to push his buttons correctly, something Diego couldn’t resist on a good day, let alone a bad one.

But no. It had to be Klaus, who even with his head lost in the clouds, could see through a lie with little to no effort. Diego’s half-convinced his brother’s secondary power is a bullshit radar. There’s no other explanation for the way that cloudy, glassy green gaze would sharpen and clear up from the fog of weed in the blink of an eye.

A bit creepy for Diego’s tastes, but he guessed that was a buy-one-get-one-for-free kinda deal with Klaus’ powers. Seeing the dead couldn’t be sunshine and rainbows. At least, he stopped writing all over his walls like Five with his disturbing poems.

Another reason those two got along. The only person to ever catch Five in a lie aside from their Dad, who thankfully was currently absent and, on a trip, far away from their house—had been Four.

Five hadn’t even gotten mad about being caught. The weirdo seemed oddly pleased. At least, Diego didn’t have to worry about running into him nowadays, since he rarely left his room.

Small mercies, he supposes, do happen occasionally.

“What’s up with the sunglasses?”

Diego shrugs. “They block out the light.”

Klaus blinks. “But we’re inside the house.” He glances pointedly upwards at ceiling. “There’s no sun in here.” There’s the faint smell of herbals and smoke lingering in the air as Klaus steps closer.

Resisting the urge to step back, he’s not going to give up ground, Diego crosses his arms.

“I got a headache and the light’s stings like a bitch in my eyes. Got a problem with that?”

“Uh huh,” Klaus hums agreeably, wrinkling his nose. “Did you tell Mom about your headache?” He emphasizes the last word with bunny ears, a grin forming on his lips.

“No,” Diego says, too quickly, too defensively. “I don’t wanna worry her. It’s nothing.”

“Au contraire!” Klaus sing-songs, taking another step forward. “There’s something you’re not telling me. C’mon, give me the gossip and I promise I won’t laugh at you.”

For all that he’s basically a second lie detector, Klaus lies an awful lot himself. Takes on to know one, Diego guesses, shaking his head.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” Klaus blocks his attempt of walking past by throwing an arm out and moving into his way. “Is it embarrassing?”

“Go away, Klaus,” Diego groans, rubbing at his forehead. Christ, where’s a scary ghost when he needs one? Though, he immediately feels a bit bad for the thought as soon as it crosses his mind.

“Not until you tell me.”

“Be annoying somewhere else.”

“Tell me, tell me, tell meee,” Klaus whines. “Did you fight with Luther again?”

“No.”

Klaus falters at that, squinting at him. Diego waits in silence, refusing to fidget under the heavy stare. Silence never meant anything good with his brother. After a minute, Klaus straightens up, no longer slouching as a frown finds a way onto his face.

Oh, shit.

“You know, that’s a very nice pair of gloves you’ve got on your hands,” he says, nonchalantly if it weren’t for the narrowing of his eyes. “Leather, that’s so kinky, Diego. Very you. Now, wanna fess up and tell me what trouble you got yourself into or should I bother Mom into checking up on you?”

Diego bristles, “Klaus, don’t you dare—“

His brother response by taking in a deep breath, opening his mouth most likely to scream the house deaf. Darting forward, Diego presses a hand over his mouth, shushing him quickly.

“Alright, alright!” He hisses, glancing around the empty hallway. “You win, okay? Shout for Mom and I’ll toss you out the window, got it?”

He pulls his hand back, wincing at the wetness on his gloves. “Gross, man.”

“Says the guy who eats raw eggs for breakfast.” Klaus shudders before reaching out to grab Diego’s hand. “Let’s go to my room.” He starts dragging Diego down the hall, ignoring the protests.

“Why yours?”

“Because nobody dares to come in without knocking. Not after Luther accidently caught me changing into a near pair of clothes last week, remember?”

Oh, he does. Luther’s horrified yell could have been heard from Five’s room. It had taken him three days to look Klaus in the eye again.

Needless to say, when Klaus actually closes his door for once, nobody dares to open it. An understandable sentiment. People don’t open pandora’s box either.

Diego doesn’t resist as Klaus pushes him into his room, kicking the door close. He gets shoved to sit down on the bed and Klaus’ hands gently remove his sunglasses without permission.

“Hey—”

Klaus’ whistle cuts him off. “Woah, that’s a nice shiner there, Dee. Wanna tell me who gave it to you?”

“Why?” Diego snorts. “You’re gonna beat them up for me?” He gives Klaus a critical once over, dragging his gaze up and down with a smirk on his face.

“No.” Klaus slaps him on the shoulder, huffing out an annoyed sigh. “My face’s too nice to end up like yours. Doesn’t mean I can’t scare them by telling them their dead granny hangs around to haunt them or something.”

Oh. Coming from Klaus, who hates using his powers, that’s weirdly touching. Swallowing past the forming lump in his throat, Diego lets Klaus take his hands into his own, gently tugging them off to inspect the bruised, bloody knuckles underneath.

“You’re sure you don’t want Mom to take a look at you?”

Diego gives him a sullen glare. “N-n-o. Don’t tell anybody. N-not even Allison. She’ll tell Luther.”

There’s a moment where Klaus simply looks at him. Open and face blank while his fingers curl around Diego’s own. He breaks the eye-contact first and when he speaks up, he doesn’t mention the stutter coming back to haunt Diego.

“Okay,” he says, taking a step back. “Hang on for a hot second and don’t run off just yet.”

Diego nods, watching him turn towards his desk. He opens the drawers, searching for something, slamming them shut with his knee after finding whatever he needs and setting that down on his desk. He leaves the room, coming back as quick as he left with a wet towel in his hand and pulls his desk chair over before sitting down.

“What are you doing?”

“Patching you up, what else?”

Diego’s brows furrow while Klaus gently rubs the blood off his knuckles. “I don’t need help.”

“You’re getting it anyway.” Klaus tosses the cloth onto his desk after he’s done. “I’m gonna wrap up your hands and you can keep the gloves, since they actually are kinda cool, but the glasses need to go.”

“No way,” Diego says, firmly. Without them his black eye would be visible for all to see. Mom would see and he couldn’t stand her smile dimming when she caught sight of it.

Klaus groans, finishing up wrapping his hands before turning to grab the things from his desk. “That’s what’s concealer’s for, idiot.” He shakes the tube in front of Diego’s face.

“I’m not going to wear make-up!” Diego attempts to sit up only for Klaus to push him back down. “That’s for girls!”

“And for boys!” Klaus grabs his chin roughly. “Especially for dumbass boys who sneak out when their Dad’s are away and then get their ass handed to them. Now, hold still and let me show you how to cover up bruises without looking like an idiot.”

Grumbling under his breath, Diego goes still.

The edge to Klaus’ voice doesn’t match his hands, who are gently applying and blending in the cream around his eye. When he turns to the brush, Diego tenses, holding back a grimace, but the pressure is soft enough on his skin he barely feels a thing.

After what feels like forever, Klaus pulls back, hands on his hips and nods. He pulls out a hand-mirror from his desk, practically shoving it into Diego’s face.

“Well?”

Diego startles, fingers coming up to brush against seemingly unmarred skin only for a hand to swat away his own. The bruise is noticeable still, but nowhere near as glaringly obvious as before. If one didn’t know where to look Diego might go as far as to say they wouldn’t even notice he got a fist to the eye at all.

He doesn’t look like a girl and guilt begins to fester.

Handing the mirror back to Klaus, he scratches at the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbles while Klaus puts his things away.

“Yeah, you should be.” Klaus pouts, the sharpness draining from his eyes, leaving them soft and warm instead of hurt and cold. “Sneaking out without me, how could you? I thought what we had was special, Diego!”

“As if you didn’t sneak out every time you thought you could get away with it.”

“I did get away with it.” Klaus is quick to correct, grinning like the cat who got the cream and the mouse. “Mostly, anyway. Next time you go out you have to promise me to take me along for the ride. That’s my payment for helping you out. I’ll even be the lookout!”

Seeing the eager twinkle in his brother’s eyes, Diego couldn’t help but agree.

“Sure, why not.”

“Great! Do remember if we run into trouble, you’re deaf and I only speak German.”

[robinskey]

The Hair (Steve Harrington x Henderson! Reader)

When Steve “The Hair” Harrington started hanging around your little brother, you were skeptical, to say the least. Steve was always a jerk to you in high school. Like, always. He rarely spoke to you, but when he did, it was to make some comment about your wacky shoes or frizzy hair, which you could never keep under control. You’d seen the way he treated girls. It was the exact opposite of the way you wanted Dustin to act when he started dating. But you figured you had time to counteract Steve’s influence on your baby brother. After all, Dustin hadn’t ever really expressed a whole lot of interest in the opposite sex. Thus, it came as a big surprise when he returned home from summer camp, talking nonstop about his new girlfriend.

“Her name is Suzie,” Dustin told you the next morning at breakfast, shoveling a spoonful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. “She’s Mormon, so her parents wouldn’t really approve of me-on account of the fact that I’m not Mormon and all. But she’s hotter than Phoebe Cate, and so nice, and, like, the smartest girl ever-ouch!”

Your mother eyed you suspiciously from behind her huge round glasses, but she didn’t question whether or not you had just delivered a sharp kick to your brother’s knee under the table.

“Hey, look, you’re smart, sis, but Suzie is, like, a genius.”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “She’s as beautiful as Cindy Crawford, smarter than Einstein, and as real as my college acceptance letter.”

Dustin glared at you, his thick eyebrows furrowed into a unibrow. “I thought you got a rejection letter.”

“Exactly.”

It was your turn to receive a painful jab in the leg. He angrily stabbed the last piece of sausage on his plate and shoved it into his mouth. 

“She’s real,” he said with a mouthful of half-chewed food.

“I believe you, Dusty,” your mother piped up, reaching over to pat your brother’s arm.

“I don’t.”

With that, Dustin stood. His wooden dining chair protested with a screech against the dining room tile. Under his breath, he mumbled something about how Harvard would probably be knocking on Suzie’s door when she turned eighteen. Then, he stomped down the hall, slamming his door shut. Rock music started blaring almost immediately. 

“Real mature, Dusty!” you called after him.

As soon as you returned to your food, you felt your mother’s tear-filled eyes on you. 

“What, Mom? We both know she’s not real,” you said.

Your mother removed her glasses, setting them on the tablecloth in front of her. She dabbed at her eyes with her napkin, then reached across the table for your hand. Her palms were calloused, wrinkly, and oily from excessive amounts of lotion. As it drifted up to your nostrils, the scent of sweet pea mixed with the odor of bacon grease.

“I know the last month has been tough for you, sweetie, but it’s been a rough year for Dustin. I haven’t seen him this happy in a while,” she said. Mom lowered her voice before adding, “Even if this girl is just imaginary, if she’s making Dusty smile again, isn’t that all that really matters?”

Jeez. Your mother knew exactly what to say to make you feel guilty.

That’s how, less than ten minutes later, you ended up at the door to your brother’s room, practically begging for forgiveness.

“Go away!” he screamed over the booming music.

“No. Not while you’re still mad at me,” you yelled back.

“Well, then you’re going to be standing there for a while.” Behind the door, you heard a few footsteps, and for a split second, you thought he might actually unlock the door. But then the already-eardrum-splitting volume of the music increased.

“Come on, Dustin,” you whined. “I didn’t mean it.” 

The lyrics of Bohemian Rhapsody was the only response.

“Please, Dusty. You just got home. I don’t want to be fighting with you already,” you said, pressing your hand to the door. It vibrated with the beat under your palm. “I’ll take you to the mall if you want. We can get ice cream.”

Faint footsteps, then a slight decrease in the music’s volume.

“Can we go to Scoops Ahoy?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the only ice cream joint in Starcourt Mall, so yeah.”

The door swung open so fast that your balanced faltered, and you nearly fell forward. Your little brother beamed up at you with his not-so-toothy grin.

“Go get your wallet, loser.”

***

Thirty minutes later, Dustin held open the glass door to the little ice cream joint in the mall. You had already started rifling through your purse for change. Dustin could eat a lot, and he certainly wouldn’t worry about making a dent in your babysitting money. You were honestly just hoping you could make it out of there with enough to pay for the bus fare home.

As you entered the shop, the sound of children giggling mixed with the chime of the bell above your head. Though the nautical theme was a little obnoxious, the store had a cute aesthetic. Blue and white stripes lined the walls behind the backs of red booths. Once you walked in, it was a straight shot to the cash register. An off-white sign announcing all the ice cream flavors hung above a faux window. Two familiar faces were situated behind the tiled counter. The first was Robin, a freckle-faced girl and one of your fellow band geeks. She was chatting with a lanky boy in a hideous blue sailor’s shirt and a dorky white cap that smashed his infamous shiny locks. Even in such an out-of-character outfit, he was instantly recognizable. His eyes lit up when he saw your little brother.

“Henderson? Do my eyes deceive me, or is that you?”

“Steve!”

Your little brother completely forgot his manners and let the door go. You leaped forward, nearly avoiding getting hit as it swung shut. Dustin sprinted toward the counter, his blonde curls bouncing underneath his baseball cap. Steve practically leapt over the counter to greet him.

As you watched, they proceeded to perform the dorkiest handshake in the world, then indulged in a bro-hug. 

“How have you been, man? I’ve missed you,” Steve said, his hands still resting on Dustin’s shoulders. He turned to his coworker. “Robin, get this kid a sundae, will you?” 

“I didn’t know your legs were broken, dingus,” Robin said, but she complied with his request, anyway.

“We have so much to catch up on,” Dustin said. He slid into the booth nearest to the cash register. 

“Yeah, we do,” Steve agreed, taking his place across from Dustin. “Did you have a good time at camp?”

“It was sick, dude. I ate so many s’mores while I was there…”

You walked up to the counter. You didn’t really know Robin well, but you certainly weren’t going to join Steve and Dustin.

“Welcome to Scoops Ahoy,” Robin droned, her back to you as she poured hot fudge over a scoop of vanilla ice cream. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

You hummed in response. Behind you, Dustin had launched into his Suzie speech-about how she was Mormon, a genius, and hotter than Phoebe Cate. Steve, who you’d never seen with his mouth shut for more than thirty seconds at a time, appeared to be listening intently. He mumbled a few comments, and you strained your eardrums trying to catch them. What was “King” Steve saying to your baby brother?

Robin turned around a few seconds later, clutching a styrofoam cup. The sudden movement startled you so badly that you visibly jumped. Luckily, Robin was too preoccupied to notice. It took a great deal of focus to balance an overfilled ice cream cup.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” She set the ice cream on the counter.

“You know, just buying my brother’s love. The usual.”

Robin chuckled and called, “Order’s up!” Steve’s fluffy mane sprung into motion as he turned his head to face his coworker.

“What, you’re not going to deliver to our table?”

“They don’t pay me enough for that,” Robin said. Her bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief. She turned back to you, a faint grin still dancing on her lips. “Sixty cents, please.”

You returned to the depths of your bag to search for loose change. You managed to scrounge up a few pennies before raising your head once more. 

Steve studied you with a curious gaze. He scrunched up his face in what could have just as easily have been confusion or disgust. Then, a visible “lightbulb” moment clicked in his head.

“You’re Dustin’s sister, aren’t you? Y/N Henderson?”

“That would be me,” you said. 

Your heart beat heavily against your ribcage. Did intense hatred upset the cardiac rhythm? You didn’t think so-but then again, you never paid much attention in Biology. Steve was partially to blame for that. It’s really hard to pay attention to Mr. Wilson lecture about the functions of the sympathetic nervous system when Steve “The Hair” Harrington sits in the desk right in front of yours, and all you can think about is running your fingers through those thick, shiny curls. Regardless of its owner’s personality, hair like that is impossible to avoid fantasizing about.

“Can I have my ice cream now?” your brother piped up, jolting you from your thoughts.

As you opened your purse, Steve pulled out his wallet. Your lips parted in protest. However, before you could say a word, he passed three dollar bills to the girl behind the counter.

“This should cover the kid’s,” Steve said, “and, of course, whatever the lady wants.”

“No, you don’t need to-”

“You’re Henderson’s sister. I want to,” he said. “Does a vanilla milkshake sound okay?”

You couldn’t conceal the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. 

“I prefer chocolate,” you said.

“Smart girl,” he said with a wink. “Make that two chocolate milkshakes, please, Robin. I’m going to take my break now so I can catch up with Henderson, okay?”

“I thought you’ve been on a break for the last ten minutes,” Robin said with a roll of her eyes. The cash register popped open, and she inserted the cash. She held the change in her palm for a few extra moments, studying it. “I could probably cover for you a little longer, though, if you let me keep this as a tip. I’ll even deliver to your table.”

“Deal,” Steve said. Robin tucked the coins into her pocket.

Steve grabbed Dustin’s sundae and returned to their booth; the Suzie conversation automatically resumed. Robin ducked into the back room to use the malt machine, and you watched as the translucent door swung shut behind her. You hoped she would return promptly to save you from the awkwardness of lingering around your little brother and his newfound mentor.

“Hey, Y/N, aren’t you going to come sit with us?” a voice asked behind you. 

Steve had swiveled around in the booth. His lips were curled upwards into a sweet, unexpectedly shy smile. Your heart skipped a beat, and your feet carried you to the table before your head could tell them to stop. You barely noticed your brother roll his eyes. 

“Scoot over, dork,” you ordered.

Dustin swirled his spoon around the cup, turning the pure white ice cream topped with dark chocolate into a light brown mixture. He was clearly unhappy with you infringing on his “guy time,” but he would get over it. Your brother huffed in protest before sliding to one side of the booth to make room for you.

“Anyway,” he sighed, once you were all settled, “before we were so rudely interrupted, where was I?”

“I think you were talking about how she was the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen, and you couldn’t believe you didn’t notice her sooner,” Steve said, chocolate eyes still trained on you.

“Oh, right. So, it’s funny. There were so many campers there, and we were in different groups, so a week actually went by before I talked to Suzie for the first time…”

Dustin’s voice faded into the background. You were too busy thinking about how maybe, just maybe, Steve Harrington didn’t suck quite as much as you once thought.