#sorry if it looks cursed. truth be told that anxiety is mostly seen from the front and the back

[zenmom]

Took me soooo long to do this meme. This is what happens when Jealousy takes too much control and ended every friendship Riley had.

That is why I gave her the title that reads “I am Jealousy, Destroyer of Friendship.”

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

The Stars Were Bright Above | Peter Parker

✦ pairing — Peter Parker x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 12k

✦ fake dating AU

✦ summary — in an attempt to make your best friend Harry jealous, you accept to fake date Peter who needs to cover up his big secret.

✦ request — I just read your Harry series and I was wondering if you could do something similar where reader is in love with Harry and she fake dates Peter and falls for him?

✦ warnings — angst, family issues, mentions of food and alcohol, language, reader and Peter are in college, brief depictions of anxiety, sexually suggestive content, drama between friends, fluff.

✦ author's note — whew, this one was supposed to be a quick one shot that’d help me get back into writing after days with a horrible migraine and then I completely lost control of it. I managed to find a compromise in 12k words after an excruciating editing process. Hope it’s coherent and that you like it!

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“I would love to stop and chat,” you told Peter as you looked for your keys, “but I’m in a hurry.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

If only you could find the stupid keys first! Oh, well, you’d check your backpack once you were in the parking lot.

Peter could have used the time it took you to cross campus to tell you whatever it was he wanted to say. Instead, he fiddled with the straps of his backpack and walked beside you in complete silence.

“I need a favor,” he finally said when you stopped in front of your car. As though it hadn’t been obvious.

“Peter,” you sighed, trying to hold your open backpack against your knee. A horrible idea, really. “My mom will kill me if I’m late for lunch.”

He took your backpack in his hands and held it for you. “I... it’s embarrassing.”

“We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“It can’t wait!”

His tone made you lift your head. “Are you alright? Is your aunt sick or something?”

He shook his head. “It’s about May in a way... oh, that rhymed.”

“Focus.”

“Right, right. Uhmmm she thought I was hiding something from her—“

You interrupted, “Were you?”

“Kind of,” he admitted. “So I told her I have a girlfriend.”

“I didn’t know you were dating anybody.”

“I’m not.”

“So why did you—“ You groaned. “Oh my God, you’re an idiot.”

“I deserve that one.”

“You want me to convince Gwen?”

“Gwen? Why would—“ He shook his head. Avoiding your eyes, he said, “I told her it was you.”

“And she believed you?”

“I’m as shocked as you are!”

“So you want me to lie to your aunt and tell her I’m dating you.” You closed your backpack, having had no luck finding your keys.

“More or less.” Peter continued holding your backpack, patiently waiting for you to retrieve it. “I was thinking more along the lines of lying to everybody and tell them we’re dating.”

You brought a hand to your hair, lightly gripping it for a moment. “I’m not a good actress.”

“I think your keys are in your hoodie.”

You palmed the front pocket where the sound of metal against metal let you know he was right. Introducing your hand, you withdrew the keys. “How did you know?”

“I heard them.”

“You have amazing hearing.” You reached over to take your backpack.

He handed it to you. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

You unlocked the car and opened the back door on the driver’s side. Leaving your backpack onto the backseat, you heard Peter ask, “So... are you helping me?”

Standing straight, you turned to peer at him. You had to squint as the sun hit your face. “Can we talk later or tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Text me. Please.”

Peter had always been considerate with you and this time was no different. He patted your back before walking away on the opposite direction.

You bit your bottom lip. “Hey.”

Peter turned around. “Mmh?”

“Want me to drop you off?”

“Sure.”

It was nice to have some company in the car after a pretty lonely day. Gwen was nowhere to be seen and you didn’t share classes with Mary Jane. You had other friends, but they didn’t make you feel complete like Gwen, Mary Jane, Flash, Peter, and Harry did.

Harry...

You couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “Did you tell Harry?”

He didn’t sound surprised. “I was waiting for your answer. I told May she was the first person to know.”

You hummed. “What would I have to do?”

“She’ll want to confirm it’s true so you’d have dinner with us and then we would act like a couple in front of everybody.”

“Like a couple?”

“Just holding hands and hugging,” he clarified. “Maybe the occasional kiss on the cheek to throw people off their rhythm. Oh, and pet names!”

“You’ve got everything planned, huh.”

“My life depends on this,” he said dramatically.

“Do I get to know your secret if I say yes?”

He considered your question for a moment. “Eventually.”

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. “When should I come over for dinner?”

Peter’s eyes lit up. “Probably this weekend. I’ll ask May and text you.”

“Cool. I’ll talk to you later, then.”

He nodded. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

You pulled over a few blocks from your family home to put on some makeup, that way you would avoid the chastising that came every time your mom saw the bags under your eyes.

Wondering if Peter could tell the reason behind your helpfulness, you got rid of your hoodie and slipped a sweater on.

Doing this every time you visited after school was tiring, but it was better than putting up with meaningless fights.

Your mom was losing her patience when you arrived, you could see it on her face. She glared at you as you approached her to kiss her cheek. This and the fact that you couldn’t stand pretending so many aspects of your personality, were what lead you to choose to live on your own.

She hadn’t been too happy about it, but she was busy with the family business, her social life, and your sister to complain. Your dad always did what any of you wanted, mostly to make you three shut up.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! Peter needed help with something.”

You sat down next to your sister who lifted an eyebrow.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately,” your mom suspiciously pointed out.

Oh, so she was keeping tabs on what you did on your free time...

The truth was there had never been anything between you and Peter.

You met him on his first day of college. He was the new kid everybody was intrigued by. Harry hated him at first and although you didn’t, you didn’t speak to him until Harry decided to stop being an asshole.

Now Harry was too busy with Liz, his gorgeous girlfriend, to care about you, his best friend.

It hurt, it really did. You befriended Harry when you were kids and had been inseparable up until now. Of course you had to put up with his weird flings, but he had never cast you aside for them.

You had harbored hope that he was secretly into you, but the less he spoke to you the more you realized he hadn’t found the one until he met Liz. That hurt even more — you were supposed to be the one.

Everything had played out in your mind from the moment you realized you had a crush on him. You would start dating in high school or college, get married, have kids, be a happy family...

But ever since he left you by yourself at a party when he was supposed to be your ride, you realized he hadn’t cared as much as you did.

Peter walked you to your apartment that night and made sure you drank plenty of water. He didn’t have to do it, Gwen and Mary Jane had already offered to do it themselves, but for some reason he felt like it.

You took a sip of water, realizing your mom and your sister were waiting for an answer. “He’s nice,” you opted for saying.

“Nice, eh,” you sister teased you.

“Yeah, nice. Is there a problem with that?”

You knew that attitude would only make them believe they were right in their assumptions. It was what Peter needed from you either way.

Truthfully, Peter wasn’t always nice, but you knew he tried.

“Are we waiting for dad?” you asked.

Your mom nodded. “He’ll be home any moment now.”

Your mom never complained when your dad was late, or when he was too busy to come home for lunch. You were used to it, she was biased in his favor — she had been since you were a child.

You checked your phone to keep yourself entertained. The Notification Center showed multiple badges, but the messages one caught your eye immediately.

Gwen💛: Missed you today.

You unlocked your phone to reply that you had missed her too when another text came in.

Pete: May said it would be cool if the three of us had dinner on Saturday.

You answered Peter first.

Sounds good to me. Just tell me what should I bring.

Your presence is more than enough, you’re our guest.

You huffed a laugh as you typed. Look at you trying to be cute.

I’ll have you know I’m extremely cute all the time.

Yeah, yeah. Should I bring dessert?

You don’t have to bring anything if you don’t want to.

I will strangle you the moment I see you, Peter.

Just say yes or no.

Maybe.

I hate you.

That’s not the proper way to treat your boyfriend :(

You could picture the glint in his eyes as he tried not to laugh.

You went along with it. I’m sorry, babe :(

I forgive you because I’m a nice boyfriend.

Won’t happen again. <3

Now let’s hope we can talk like that in person.

Are you daring me to sweet talk you in person?

Yes.

Your mom called your name. “Your dad asked you a question.”

You lifted your head. “Mmh?”

“No, no, continue texting,” he said sarcastically, “I have all day.”

You quickly typed TTYL and locked your phone. “Sorry.”

Your dad shook his head. “You and Harry always do this.”

“I wasn’t texting Harry,” you felt the need to explain. Harry didn’t deserve credit for this. “What did you want to ask?”

“I asked,” he remarked the word. “If you would be busy this weekend. Your sister won’t be.”

“I— uhmmm... I’m having dinner with Peter and his aunt on Saturday.” You saw your sister purse her lips beside you. “Did you need anything?”

“To spend time with my family.”

“I guess I can come over on Sunday or Saturday morning.”

“I was thinking about going out of town for the weekend,” he clarified.

“The three of you can go if you don’t want to wait another week,” you assured them. “I already told Peter I would have dinner with him and his aunt so I can’t cancel. I also have projects to do.”

════════════════════════

You rested your head on Gwen’s shoulder as both of you waited for Mary Jane in the cafeteria. They never made you feel like a third wheel even though they were dating so you never avoided spending time with them.

Mary Jane arrived accompanied by Peter. He looked extremely serious but he didn’t say anything as he stood across the table, staring at you like a child scared of saying what they had been up to. She elbowed him on the side before sitting down.

Peter got closer to you. “Can we talk?” he asked. “It’s important.”

You nodded, lifting your head off Gwen’s shoulder. As you stood up, you felt her hand squeeze yours which prompted you to turn and look at her.

She gave you a playful look that made you realize she wanted to know every detail once you were done. As your eyes crossed Mary Jane’s, you saw a similar sentiment in them.

“I’ll be right back,” you told them to pacify them.

He guided you to an empty area which wasn’t such an easy task. You ended up resting your shoulder against the wall, facing Peter while he looked around.

His eyes landed on you as he spoke in a hushed voice. “Can we start today?”

You mirrored his tone. “Fake dating?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay...”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“Well, you’re changing the plan,” you explained. You hated changing plans, even more so when you weren’t sure you were the right person to execute them.

“I know. Just a day earlier, though.” He unashamedly pouted.

“Okay,” you said, this time sure. “Any particular reason?”

“There’s this freshman who thinks I flirt with her just because I’m nice to her and she’s creeping me out. I feel like she follows me around.”

You sighed. “She just has a crush on you, don’t be a baby.”

“Please?”

“I already said yes, you baby.”

“You kinda like calling me baby, don’t you?”

You playfully shoved him “You’re so annoying.” However, before he could leave to do whatever it was he did in his free periods, you grabbed him by the wrist. “Does Mary Jane know about your plan?”

“No. Why?”

“You arrived together.”

“Ah. No.” He shook his head. “I was looking for you and asked her if she had seen you.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yeah...”

You shifted on your feet. “So what now?”

“Do you have class next period?”

“Sadly.”

He chuckled. “I’ll walk you to class.”

“Wanna hang out with us for a little bit?”

“I gotta talk to Flash.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Gonna ask him out too?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m never telling you who I find attractive ever again.”

“Good. Don’t wanna make your girlfriend jealous — do you, babe?”

Peter leaned over. His breath fanned on your face as he said, “Don’t worry, baby, I only have eyes for you.” He then kissed your cheek. “I’ll be right back. Wait for me with Gwen and Mary Jane.”

You nodded, hoping you didn’t look as stunted as you felt.

Both your friends stared at you, desperate to hear an explanation. You understood why, but you were still trying to come up with an excuse as to why you were so flustered over a kiss on the cheek.

You checked your phone, but there was nothing worthy of your attention.

Mary Jane spoke first, “What did Peter need?”

“We are a thing now.”

Gwen hummed. “But what did he need?”

“Permission to make it public.”

Mary Jane scratched her cheek. “Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“You think he’d be a bad boyfriend?”

“I think you shouldn’t use him to make Harry notice you.”

That was harsh. Perhaps you deserved the reminder that Harry couldn’t care less about you, and perhaps you also deserved to feel bad for trying to use Peter against him — you would’ve preferred if the reminder didn’t come from your best friend.

“I’m not,” you partially lied. “I genuinely like Peter.”

True to his word, Peter walked you to class. You didn’t hold hands, it didn’t feel right, but he sweetly told you that he’d be waiting for you after your last class.

You saw Harry across the hallway, talking to Liz and one of her friends. For a second you thought he would walk towards you, the way he held your gaze had been almost cruel.

But he didn’t, he just gave you a nod and walked in the opposite direction, hand in hand with Liz.

You had better things to worry about. Your classes, your family’s expectations, helping Peter — reciprocal things to an extent. So why couldn’t you just get over the fact that Harry didn’t care about you?

Somebody poked you on the arm with their finger. Turning to the side, you found Flash who shot you a smile.

“What’s up?” you greeted him.

“We have a project to finish.”

You cursed under your breath. “Are you free on Sunday?”

“Nope.”

“Tomorrow?”

He tilted his head. “Yeah. I’ll drop by your place.”

“At what time?”

“Like 2 or 3 in the afternoon. Don’t wanna wake you up by mistake again.”

Peter laughed behind you, having caught that last part.

You ignored Peter. “I have something to do after 5. Why don’t you come over early? I promise I’ll be awake.”

Flash shared a look with Peter and then patted your shoulder. “Cool. See you tomorrow, sleeping beauty.”

Peter snickered, standing beside you now.

“Stop laughing.”

“I just can’t believe you’re that grumpy in the mornings.” He started walking towards the exit.

You walked beside him. “You don���t know the whole story.”

He opened the door for you and then followed your steps. “You can tell it tomorrow at dinner.”

Craning your neck go look at him, you asked, “You want your aunt to laugh at me?”

“I’ll defend you.”

You suddenly remembered that you didn’t know what you were supposed to do or say in front of his aunt. You had met her before, but that fact made this situation even more bizarre.

You tried to start with an easy question, “Should I wear a dress for tomorrow?”

“You can wear whatever you want,” he assured you.

Well, that wasn’t helpful at all.

════════════════════════

You checked the time on your phone and realized you had a message from Flash. He was on his way.

Looking around your bedroom, your eyes fell on the bed where a pile of clothes laid. The sight stressed you out, and even more the fact that you didn’t seem to be able to set your mind on an outfit.

You anxiously waited for Flash at the door, pulling it open the moment you were aware of his presence on the other side.

He lifted both eyebrows. You usually took your sweet time to answer the door.

“We sh—“

You interrupted him. “I need your help with something else first.”

Flash softly dropped the materials he had been carrying onto the couch as he gave you a skeptic look. “I’m not disposing of a body for you.”

You took him by the wrist, dragging him to your bedroom. It wasn’t an abnormal occurrence by any means, he honestly should have had expected it.

“God, not again.” He sighed as his eyes fell on the pairs of shoes scattered around the room.

“Come on, just tell me if I should wear that skirt.” You pointed at the black skirt on top of the mountain of clothing. “Or jeans.”

He opened his arms, unsure as to what to tell you as his hands stayed in an awkward angle.

“What would you want me to wear if I were meeting your family?” you encouraged him to help you.

He cocked his head, looking at you through his lashes. “A straight jacket.”

“Please take this seriously.”

Inhaling deeply, he set his eyes on the pile of clothes. “Is the skirt more comfortable than the jeans?”

“I’m not thinking about comfort.”

“Well, you should. You know May will make you squirm with her questions.”

“No skirt, then.”

“It’s just dinner,” Flash reminded you, “wear something casual.”

”Yeah,” you sighed, “just dinner.”

What an easy thing to say. You knew so few details that you might as well make a fool of yourself in front of May.

Flash ignored your semblance even though you knew he took note of it. He reached his hand into one of the bags he had been carrying then handed you a paper bag. “I brought breakfast.”

“Why didn’t you say so when you arrived?”

He glared at you. “Why don’t you get us something to drink instead?”

You ate breakfast sat on the living room floor while discussing your project. Flash wasn’t the most responsible person ever, but he was by far the best partner you ever had for a project.

However, his comment from earlier made you wonder something. Unable to hold it anymore, you asked, “How did you even know about the dinner?”

“Peter told me,” he answered simply.

“He did?”

“Why are you so shocked?”

You shrugged. “I thought we would wait a little bit longer.”

“Yeah, but it was bound to happen.”

“Don’t,” you warned him.

“Why not? I told you you’d end up having a crush on him.”

“Flaaaaaaaash!”

You hated to prove him right and although this was different, you wouldn’t lie and say Peter wasn’t attractive or crush material.

“Peter’s cool.”

“You don’t have to convince me, I’m already dating him.”

“I’m just pointing out that he’s an upgrade.”

There it was.

Flash took a dislike towards Harry when Harry started dating Liz which was normal because she was his ex, but it turned into vitriol really quickly.

Both Flash and Harry put Peter in an awkward situation the first few months. Now you didn’t know much about it — Harry complained about it with you at first, but he stopped.

“It’s different.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

You frowned, looking into your half-empty cup of coffee.

“I can see through you.”

“Mary Jane told you her theory, didn’t she?”

“She thinks the same?” You nodded. He pensively hummed. “She didn’t tell me, to be honest. I’m only trying to look out for you and Peter.”

“I like him, I don’t know why you think I don’t.”

Flash didn’t spare you as he reminded you, “Because you said the same about your ex.”

“Yeah and look how that went!”

“(Name).”

“What?”

“Stop comparing guys you like to Harry and I promise you things will go well.”

He really could see right through you.

“I’ll stop. I promise.” Not knowing why, you added, “It’s not even that hard, Peter is... Peter. You know what I mean? Like how can you compare him to other people or other people to him?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Oh no. “Do you like him?” you blurted.

Flash laughed softly. “Not in that way, no.”

“You sure? I don’t want things to be weird.”

“Peter might be handsome and cool,” he admitted, “but we wouldn’t work as a couple.”

“You think Peter and I would?” you incredulously asked.

“You will, yeah.”

You were truly nervous now. Not because of May’s potential questions or because you would have to lie — actually, you didn’t know where the nerves were coming from.

You just knew that Flash’s words resonated with you. He went from hating Peter to being his close friend which in your eyes meant he knew Peter better than anyone.

Did Flash know what Peter was hiding? Perhaps that was what he was alluding to when he assured you Peter and you would work as a couple.

The day went by extremely quickly. You weren’t mentally ready when Flash left or when you were on your way to Peter’s for that matter.

Peter was waiting for you in the lobby with hands in his pockets and shifty eyes.

“Is she like mad or something?” you asked instead of greeting him. You were ten minutes early so tardiness couldn’t be the issue.

He made a face, jerking his head as he gazed at you. He looked confused. “She’s just worried.”

What if she got angry at you when you hadn’t done anything? Peter told you to act normal, but normal you wasn’t madly in love with him.

As you approached the apartment, you found yourself thinking you were either going to ruin this or find out you deserved an academy award.

Peter opened the door and allowed you to come in first. May smiled at you before giving you a side hug in greeting.

“I brought dessert,” you told her as you parted from her.

“Oh, honey, you didn’t have to.”

Okay. Not angry yet.

She placed the dessert onto the table and motioned for you and Peter to sit.

Peter and you grabbed the chair at the same time. He opened his eyes wide, making you withdraw your hands immediately. He took the chair out for you.

Peter could be polite when he wanted, but you were getting worried. Since when did he treat the people he dated like this?

Nonetheless, you sat down.

May didn’t waste time and touched the subject pretty quickly. The moment she served dinner, she said, “I thought Peter was messing with me at first.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he defended himself.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” she said sardonically.

“I thought he was messing with me when he asked me out, so I get it.”

Peter looked at you in shock and you unconsciously smiled at him.

May cooed. “I don’t understand why you two hid your relationship for months when you’re so cute together.”

“I didn’t want it to be awkward with our friends,” you quickly lied. “What if it didn’t work out or something?”

Your answer would have made sense if your relationship with Peter was real and that would be your strategy from now on. He couldn’t have a secret that would need you to lie that often.

May was so happy with your answers that the conversation deviated from you and Peter to everything but your love life.

You felt a little silly now, having expected the worst when Peter had already told you she was just worried.

He walked you to your car at the end of the night, something you guessed would become a common occurrence.

Things had gone well with May so you had no reason to think things wouldn’t go well with your friends.

You gnawed on the inside of your bottom lip. “Are things going to be awkward now?”

“Between us?”

You nodded. “I mean... saying shit is one thing, but you know...” God, you felt awkward already.

Peter frowned for a moment. “Give me your hand.”

Shifting on your feet, you asked, “You want your hand to be under mine or on top?”

“I don’t mind. You choose.”

You slid your arm under his, opening your palm but not touching him yet. He took the initiative and pressed his hand against yours.

“Is this okay?” he softly asked.

“Yes.”

He intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing a little bit. You huffed a laugh.

“This too?”

You nodded.

“Well, that’s the only thing that’ll change between us. We already hug pretty often.”

Oh, Peter gave the best hugs. Although Gwen was a close second, you preferred his because he was always warm. He also smelled good, but you had to give it to Gwen and admit she did too.

“I’ll see you on Monday, then, boyfriend.”

“Drive safe, girlfriend.” Before you could say anything, he added, “Text me when you get home.” Yet he didn’t let go of your hand immediately.

════════════════════════

Harry didn’t take the news of your relationship with Peter that well. The moment he saw you holding hands, he made his way towards you.

Peter squeezed your hand, easing your nerves. He was there, nothing could go wrong with Peter there.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Harry drily asked you.

“In twenty minutes or so,” you softly answered.

“Well, can I talk to you?”

You turned to Peter, hoping he’d save you from an awkward conversation. Sure, you wanted a reaction from Harry, but not an angry one!

“It’s okay, baby.” Peter kissed your hair as he let go of your hand. “I’ll see you later.”

With a shaky sigh, you motioned Harry to lead the way.

He immediately asked, “Why Peter?”

You stuttered. “I... things just happened.”

“Did they have to happen with my other best friend?”

In a twisted way, they had to. But you couldn’t possibly tell him that. “You didn’t care when Gwen had a crush on him, why is this any different?”

His eyes sharpened. “It just is.”

Many things just were. That didn’t mean anything. You wished you had the courage to reply.

As always, you gave him the upper hand and allowed him to make another question. “It’s not serious, right?”

What were you supposed to say? The thing that’d make him angry or the thing that’d pacify him? How selfish of you to be thinking about making Harry jealous when Peter needed this to be believable.

“It’s too soon to know.”

Harry hummed, softly nodding. “I’ll walk you to your class.”

You frowned. He had never done something like that.

“You’re coming to my birthday party, right?”

You almost tripped as you answered, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Cool. I’ll see you there.”

Thirteen-year-old you was right when she thought boys were confusing, but Harry surely took the cake. You assumed he’d ask you to hang out more often given his reaction, but there he was telling you —on a Monday— that he’d see you on Saturday.

Harry’s attitude soured your entire morning. If classes were already unbearable, he made you want to skip each one of them. Your friends noticed, but nobody said anything.

What a horrible morning and what a horrible week it would be until his stupid birthday party rolled around and you’d have to see him show his girlfriend off.

Your friends decided to go to the coffee shop near campus after class and although you weren’t in the mood for socializing, you would rather suck it up than be by yourself.

Besides, coffee shops were always a good place to do homework and you had quite a few projects accumulated.

Peter rested his head on your shoulder in the same way you always rested yours on Gwen’s. You threw your arm around his shoulders as you rested your eyes.

“Are you getting sleepy?” you whispered in case he was.

“No,” he mumbled. “But I don’t wanna move.”

“I have to pick up my sister from the mall in a couple of hours so you’ll have to.”

He whined.

“Who would’ve thought Peter would be a clingy boyfriend,” Gwen teased.

“Literally anybody who has ever seen him drunk,” Flash continued teasing him.

Peter was red. He shifted, trying to hide his face on your shoulder.

In all honesty, you didn’t mind if he was clingy or not. You had been told you were a little too effusive when it came to affection so you had a soft spot for people who were similar in any way.

You withdrew your arm from his shoulders in order to continue typing on your computer.

Peter went back to his previous position, facing your computer too. “You made a typo,” he told you. “Third line on the second paragraph.”

Mary Jane arrived late and she seemed to be in a bad mood so Gwen made up an excuse in front of your friend group as though she knew something you didn’t —she probably did— and took her home.

Looking at the time, you realized it was time for you to get going too so you started to put your things away.

‘I’m leaving with Flash,” Peter reminded you. “Text me or call me if you need me. I might not answer quickly because we’ll be playing video games but just try for a second time, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kissed your forehead. ”Drive carefully.”

You hummed. “Have fun, Pete.”

“You too, baby.”

Your mom didn’t give you many details when she asked you to pick your sister up. You didn’t even know with which friends she was hanging out with or why they were at the mall on a Monday and not somewhere more fun.

There you were, judging her like you hadn’t followed Harry like a puppy when you were her age.

She texted you that she was on her way to the entrance you were waiting at, telling you she had been all the way across.

It was probably a lie, but you’d let it slide.

Your sister tugged the door open and got into the car in silence, putting her cellphone away as she got comfortable.

“Did you have fun?”

She nodded and smiled at you.

You snickered and poked her cheek. “You have dried lipgloss all over your mouth.”

Your sister bashfully looked down.

You handed her a tissue. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

She stayed silent for a small moment before worriedly asking, “Are you telling mom and dad?”

“No. But I’d like to know who it was.”

She whined. “Do I really have to tell you?”

You tried to put yourself in her shoes. You didn’t know how embarrassing it would have been for you to talk about your first kiss —or kisses— with a family member because nobody really cared when you started dating classmates.

But it didn’t sound fun so instead, you asked, “Are they your age?”

“Yup ”

“You promise?”

Realizing the question was serious, she nodded for emphasis. “Yes.”

“Cool. That’s all that matters.”

Your dad was home so you were forced to stay for dinner which again, was better than being on your own.

You couldn’t wait to either get together with Harry or over him. As things were going, you could only admit it would be the latter.

“Did your friend have a good birthday?”

Your sister looked at you before answering. “Yeah, we saw a movie.”

“What was the movie about?”

Your dad really tried to get along with both of you, you had to give him that. He was bad at it most of the time, but he tried.

Your phone started ringing. As you stared at the screen, you frowned. Unknown numbers rarely called you.

Hesitant, you answered, “Hello?”

“Hi, (Name),” May tried to speak sweetly. The moment you heard her voice, you stood up from your seat on the couch and left the living room. “Peter isn’t answering his phone, can you put him on the line for me?”

You walked into the adjacent studio, weirded out by her request. “He told you he’d be with me?”

“Isn’t he?”

“He is,” you said hurriedly, “I was just curious.”

“Can I talk to him now?” May laughed nervously.

“He went out to buy food and left his phone here. I’ll tell him to call you as soon as he’s back.”

“Thank you.”

You texted him multiple times as soon as May hung up.

May called. Where are you?

She sounded worried.

I had to lie and say you had gone out to buy food and forgot your phone in case she asks.

Hey.

Pete?

Dude, you’re scaring me.

PETER

Come on

Istg I will lose my shit if you’re messing with me

It’s not funny

You made your way towards the bathroom, needing to splash some water onto your face or something. Anything.

He couldn’t be so immersed in a video game as to not answer multiple calls or texts.

Why would Peter tell May he was with you when he could easily tell her he was with Flash? Was he not at Flash’s anymore?

Perhaps Flash would reply!

You texted him and called him dozens of times before giving up. You didn’t want to think the worst, maybe they were out buying something, but they could be in danger too.

Your hands started shaking pretty quickly when the idea of something happening to him overpowered your thoughts.

You needed to get out of that bathroom and back to the living room where a distraction could meet your anxiety before you went crazy.

So you splashed your face and bolted.

Back in the living room, you caught pieces of your dad’s conversation with your sister. He was boring her with business talk.

You had been in her place many times, and although his tone was more lighthearted with her because the expectations to follow in his footsteps were on you, it was clear he was trying to get her interested in things she didn’t even understand.

Your phone dinged. You immediately looked down.

Pete❤️: I’m okay

What the fuck, Peter?

Where were you?

Busy, sorry.

Did you call May?

Yeah.

Ok.

You didn’t know what else to say. ‘I had a shitty day and you almost gave me a panic attack’ didn’t sound appropriate. It would be truthful, but you couldn’t do that to him.

Where are you?

At my parents’.

He didn’t reply anymore so you locked the device and rested your head on the arm of the couch.

What a fucking day. If your week would be half as exhausting, you were ready to give up on the entire month in advance.

Remembering you were meant to ask if Mary Jane was okay, you unlocked your cellphone again.

As you finished typing your message to Gwen, one from Peter came through.

Can you come out for a few minutes?

Yeah. Give me a moment.

You took a deep breath, fixing your outfit as you slipped your phone into your pocket. You rounded the couch as you attempted to take the path towards the front door.

“Where are you going?” your sister asked.

“Outside. I need to give something to Peter.”

“Don’t take too long,” your dad told you.

You said a meek yes as if you were going to listen to him when you needed to inspect Peter from head to toe just to make sure he was truly okay.

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak as Peter slowly approached you. To his credit, he looked fine so he hadn’t lied.

He spoke first, as he should have, “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” you mumbled.

He gave you a look.

Clearing your throat, you opened your arms only to slap your hands against your thighs in defeat. “You had me worried sick.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you going to tell me where were you?”

“I can’t.”

You scoffed. “So I have to cover for you without even knowing what the hell I’m covering?”

He whispered your name, placing his hand on your cheek as he tried to make you look at him.

You closed your eyes. “I don’t mind lying for you,” you softly said, meaning it like you had never meant anything else in your entire life. “But don’t I deserve to know why I’m lying?”

He brought you onto his chest, holding you tight against him. “You do deserve to know,” he admitted. “And I’ll tell you everything, but not tonight.”

You were scared to ask why.

════════════════════════

Peter draped his arm over your shoulder, holding you close to him as the two of you stood with your group of friends.

You hadn’t been in that place in a long time but still remembered where every room was. You also knew in which one Harry would fuck Liz at the end of the night.

You took a sip of alcohol. It didn’t taste like much — a bad sign.

Your eyes fell on the beer pong table. A guy you didn’t recognize and Harry were playing against Mary Jane and Flash. That was a bad sign too.

“I’m gonna refill my cup,” you whispered in Peter’s ear, “do you want me to refill yours?”

He shook his head. “I’ve still got plenty.”

It took you a moment to move and he didn’t make a sign to having found it weird.

The kitchen was quieter, not by much but the change was nice. Something you had always disliked about Harry was his taste in music.

You crashed against a thin body.

Liz took you by the waist and you awkwardly placed your hand on her hip, each of you steadying the other. “Sorry,” both of you apologized at the same time.

“I was distracted,” you insisted.

She took her hands off you and you did the same. Liz extended her hand so she could refill your cup for you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said as she refilled your cup. “Harry thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “You know how he is.”

You didn’t. Not anymore. You took your cup from her, thanking her before bringing it to your lips.

“Well, we’re all here,” you said in pretended optimism. “And we’re all having fun.”

She smiled, looking as pretty as ever. “Damn right we are!”

You went back to Peter while Liz took off to talk to some of her friends. Once again, he threw his arm over your shoulders, hand almost brushing your chest as it dangled.

Mary Jane was back, bored of playing. Flash asked Peter to team up with him. Peter removed his arm from you, telling you he’d be back.

You focused on Peter as he rolled his sleeves on his way to the table.

Feeling something move in your pocket, you took your cellphone out. Your dad was calling.

“I need to take this call,” you told your friends.

The air was cold in comparison to the inside of the house. You let your dad call again and answered the phone, already expecting some kind of bad news.

To his credit, he sounded disappointed while telling you the plans the family had made for the next day were cancelled. He said your mom was upset.

As a child you often heard excuses for his absence. He was busy, his success depended on sacrifices, he tried his best so you and your sister could have everything you wanted.

Harry always told you to be grateful that you had loving parents. You weren’t sure you had the same definition of love.

You still assured your dad you weren’t angry and promised to spend the day with your mom and sister. His silence as an answer to your offer was a reminder that he didn’t believe you were capable of fixing meaningful problems.

You didn’t show how much it hurt you, there was no point. He meant well, your mom and sister did too.

Leaving the party sounded appealing, but your friends didn’t deserve it. You sucked it up and went back to the house.

Peter and Flash were bumping fists when you approached the area. They had won the game.

You went directly to the couch, not in the mood for dancing. Peter walked towards you, fixing his hair.

Sitting down, he twisted his upper body. “Is everything okay?”

“My dad just cancelled tomorrow’s family plans and said mom’s kinda upset.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Neither am I.” You changed the subject, “I’m surprised you won that game, though.”

“You don’t have faith in me?”

You swiped your tongue across your bottom lip. “I never said that. But you have to admit you’ve never been one for taking part in games. Last time I saw you play something, you got your ass handed to you by Flash.” Twisting your mouth, you tilted your head. He looked down. “You’ve never played sports, right?”

He didn’t answer.

You insisted, “Right?”

He hummed, nodding at the same time as though it made any sense.

“Were you even listening?”

“No,” he quickly admitted. “Can I kiss you?”

Oh. He had been looking down at your mouth.

He caught you off guard. You couldn’t say no, though, you didn’t want to say no. “Yes,” you answered him.

He started slow and sweet, with his hand on your cheek as the other rested on his lap. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you just closed your eyes and kissed him back, following his rhythm.

He slowly build the kiss up, sucking your bottom lip between his. Gripping the front of his sweatshirt, you boldly bit down his bottom lip in return.

Peter wrapped his free arm around you then he brought you closer, flush against him. His tongue tried to pry your mouth open in the exact moment you were about to do the same. Your tongues clashed together and instead of turning it all awkward, it only prompted you to grab him by the hair.

Peter hummed on your mouth and continued kissing you. Now he had both hands on your body, holding you tightly by the waist.

Maybe you could take him to another room, maybe you could feel his hands on you without the burden of your clothes.

His vice grip on you made you feel like floating and you suddenly wondered why you hadn’t made out with Peter before. It didn’t have to be anything serious, it didn’t have to go past messing around.

He was attractive, so were you. Why hadn’t you seen it before? Why had you denied yourself this when he was so good at kissing and his touch was so rough you were sure he would leave marks? And you wanted him to do it, you wanted him to let himself loose on you.

Fuck, you were getting horny over your fake boyfriend.

And as if he knew exactly what was going on inside your hazy mind, he attached his lips to your neck. It was over, you were done — it would be a failure if you didn’t manage to take him to a private room or back to your apartment.

Resting a hand on his thigh as you pushed yourself over, you felt the vibration of his throat as he whimpered while you kissed him.

Something buzzed under your hand, prompting both of you to part. Panting, you stared at each other for a moment. His hair was a mess and he had never looked prettier.

He withdrew a hand from your body to take his cellphone out. You knew the mood had completely been killed when he sighed and locked the device.

“I need to do something,” he announced as he stood up. “I’ll be back.”

What? You didn’t have a chance to react, he just left you there, hot and bothered.

════════════════════════

You padded your way toward the kitchen for the second time since you had gone to bed. Sleep wasn’t necessarily elusive that night, but you found yourself waking up every hour.

Turning the lights on, you looked at the time. Almost 4:00 am. You filled a glass with water and slowly drank it.

You knew the tough day you had with your family was still doing a number on you even though you had left early, you also knew you should have been used to it by now.

Tapping against glass took you out of your mind, bringing you goosebumps. As the sound continued, you realized it was coming from the living room.

You considered going back to your room and locking yourself up which sounded safer, but curiosity overpowered logic.

A figure loomed over the windowpane. You wondered if your mind was tricking you — you lived in the fifth floor.

The figure became clearer as you got closer to the window. You let out a relieved sigh. Spider-Man waved. You tilted your head — why would Spider-Man want to visit you?

Maybe he was hurt and needed help.

You opened the window. “Can I help you?”

He nodded upward, letting you know he needed to come in. You let him, moving to the side.

He took the liberty to close the window once he was inside. You stood before him, assuming he would verbally tell you what he needed.

He wasn’t hurt from what you could see. He walked just fine, his breath wasn’t ragged... You were more confused now.

Reaching to the back of his head, Spider-Man took the mask off. Brown eyes bore into yours.

“You wanted to know what I was hiding...” Peter trailed off.

“You’re joking.”

He stepped closer to you. “I’m not.”

He had to. His sense of humor wouldn’t match a joke like this, but he had to.

The suit didn’t look like a cheap costume, but there had to be another explanation. Yes, it made sense — every time he disappeared out of nowhere and worried you sick, those days he sported black eyes or cuts on his face... but you didn’t want this to be the truth.

You dragged your finger down his arm to feel the texture of the suit.

Peter took a deep breath.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s okay, baby,” he huskily said. When he got no answer, Peter added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you baby.”

You inhaled deeply. “I get it, you’re getting used to it.”

He hummed, eyes on you as he sighed.

You placed your hand on his bicep. “Are you okay, Pete? I’m not going to tell anybody if that’s what worries you.”

His hands found their place on your waist. You leaned closer, seeking his warmth. Peter opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it.

He leaned in and kissed you, tentative as he gave you time to push him off you. But you didn’t, why would you?

You ran your hand through his hair as you kissed him back, already familiar with the shape of his lips and the warmth of his mouth.

He pushed you onto the wall as he shoved his tongue inside your mouth. His kiss became sloppy while his hands started wandering down.

He gripped your thighs, bringing your legs up so you’d wrap them around his waist. Both of you ground against the other, sloppily kissing. You could hear the sound your mouths were making and feel his hot breath on your face.

He was driving you crazy.

Peter didn’t stop there. Giving you room to breathe, he lowered his mouth to your neck where he took his time to find your sweet spot.

You felt his fingers up your thigh, where he played with the edge of your sleeping shorts.

He kissed, sucked, and licked his way up to your ear. “Is this okay?”

You hummed against his mouth before kissing him again pawing at his suit, desperate to feel his skin under your fingertips. Frustrated, you broke the kiss. “How do you even take this thing off?”

He chuckled and gave you another kiss. “I’ll teach you.”

“Are you gonna strip for me?” you joked. Why were you making jokes right now?

Peter tilted his head. “Is that what you want?”

The idea wasn’t bad at all, yet you answered truthfully, “I just want to touch you.”

He didn’t deny you anything that morning. You couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed yourself that much with a sexual partner.

You didn’t leave an inch of his body untouched, relishing in his reactions. He wasn’t ashamed to tell you if he liked something, or to ask you to touch him firmly.

Peter didn’t hold back either. All he wanted was you and you weren’t complaining. He gripped you tightly and sucked on your skin as much as he was able to.

There would be bruises on you by the next day, and there would be scratches on him if his powers didn’t heal him quickly.

You liked this side of him, the side that fucked you into the mattress and groaned above you. He wasn’t scared of breaking you or hurting you — for a moment you wondered how it would feel if he did it.

He came on your belly then cleaned you up afterwards which was more than appreciated. You weren’t even sure you could speak properly when he asked if you needed water.

He brought you a glass either way, of course he did.

The sun was up when you were done, too tired to move and too spent to complain. Peter was back on the bed, warm body pressed against yours.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” you tiredly answered. “I’m good.”

He held you tighter, laying his head on your chest.

You lazily dragged your fingers down his spine. “Is everything okay?”

“It was a long night,” he told you in a low voice.

You chose to believe he had visited because he thought you could provide him comfort, and you also decided that you always could — that you were okay with doing so. Even if most things about your relationship were fake, this one didn’t have to be.

════════════════════════

Peter and you never talked about it, and although you would have liked to hear the reasons behind his actions that night, you didn’t need to because it continued happening.

Having sex made pretending easier. He always had an arm around you or a hand on your body around your friends and by now you not only were used to his touch but sought it.

You often woke up next to him, sometimes clothed and sometimes naked. He always woke up before you, but he never left immediately. You wanted to know why.

Flash had been right to assume you’d develop a crush on Peter and now you had a sinking feeling that it wasn’t just a crush anymore.

You worried about him and wanted to be around him every second of every day, you liked hearing him tell you about his classes and his day — you liked that he always asked about yours, that he was willing to drop things for you because you would drop everything to be there for him.

Covering for him became a reflex. You had an inkling that May knew you were lying sometimes, but she never said anything according to Peter.

Your friends were happy with the development of your relationship which would have been lovely if this was real. But now you worried that the supposed breakup would disrupt your friend group.

It was hard not to think about it. The day would surely come and you’d be by yourself most of the time again. As if that was the only problem.

And problems continued rolling onto you. The last person you expected to see was at your door.

Harry gave you a smoldering look as you stood speechless. “Are you letting me in?”

You did.

He sat down on the couch, making himself at home even though he had barely visited your apartment.

“I thought you were sick,” he said in reference to the fact that you cancelled plans with your friends the day before.

“I was busy.”

Disgust contorted his face as his eyes fell on your neck. “Busy fucking my best friend?”

You flinched at his tone.

“I should’ve known you were only spending time with him because you wanted to get him into your bed.”

He said it as though you were the type of person to fuck anybody you met, as though you hadn’t rejected people because they weren’t him specifically.

“Believe it or not,” you coldly lied, “I started dating him months and not days before your birthday. You would’ve known about it if you talked to me.”

“Rubbing it on my face, aren’t you? Do you know how embarrassing it was to hear you were making out with him at my house after I told my friends multiple times that you were off limits?” He was seething, expelling droplets of saliva as he reproached you.

“Why would you do that in the first place? You knew I’d end up dating somebody who goes to the same school as us.”

“Why would you go for my best friend specifically? Don’t you care about my relationship with him?”

“Is this what our friendship has come to be? A reproaching fest?”

“You’re the one who crossed the line.”

“Harry, you didn’t have a problem when half our friend group drooled over him!”

“Because that’s different. I know Peter, he’s not right for you.”

You incredulously scoffed. “Funny how you’re the only one who says that.”

“I’ve never been wrong about the guys you’ve dated.”

Well, you couldn’t argue against that. But Flash was right, those guys hadn’t been the problem — the fact that you compared them to Harry was.

“Let time prove either of us right.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“What?”

“You promised nobody would ever be more important than me.”

You both promised a lot of things as kids... that you would never bring dates to an event you could attend together, that you would attend the same college, that you would be part of the same friend group your entire lives, that you would tell each other everything...

“I’m not saying Pete is more important than you, I’m j—“

“Break up with him, then.”

“You’re making it sound like I have to choose between you and him.”

“Because you have to.” When he didn’t get an answer, he added. “I’ll give you time to think it through.”

You wanted to do anything but think. You wanted to have your best friend back — you didn’t care if he was jealous anymore, you never should have. You weren’t Liz, it was okay, he liked her and you liked somebody else.

“Harry, come on...”

But Harry walked himself out and forced your words to die in your throat.

You never thought he would be as angry as you wanted him to be. You got your anger and your jealousy and your dilemma. He had it all clear, you were the idiot who had to get into this mess.

A shower and a portion of your comfort food later, you decided that you couldn’t be inside your head right now and left your apartment.

It was drizzling. Such a perfect weather to be inside doing everything or nothing alike.

You loved being by yourself at your place. The plan for the day had been just that. But as always, Harry made you change them.

Chastising yourself for forgetting your phone at home, you knocked on the door in front of you.

The door opened and you were greeted with a smile.

You wished you could’ve smiled back. “Hi, May, is Peter home?”

She motioned for you to come in. “He’s in his room. Do you want something to drink?”

“Not now, thank you.”

You knocked on his door, hoping he would answer before May could tell something was wrong with you.

Peter yelled for you to come in. You were an idiot, he probably had heard you talking to his aunt.

Pushing the door open, you stuck your head in. “It’s me,” you softly said just to make sure you had his permission to come in.

“Come in, baby.”

God, not that pet name. Not now.

You closed the door behind you before facing him. He was sat at his desk, writing something down on a notebook as he looked at the computer screen.

Approaching him, you leaned in to see what he was doing. You didn’t understand much of it, science was his thing.

He rotated the chair to face you. “What’s up? You didn’t text me...”

“Forgot my phone at home.”

Peter frowned and dropped his pen on top of the notebook before standing up to move towards his bed. “Are you alright?”

Did you look that bad? You weren’t wearing makeup, but he had seen your bare face plenty of times to be weirded out.

“Can I have a hug?”

Now sat on the bed, Peter opened his arms and legs so you’d make yourself at home between them.

And you did. You hugged yourself to him as tightly as you could, afraid he would let go at any moment.

He didn’t let go, you should have known he wouldn’t — your mind was playing tricks with you, that was it.

“What happened? Why are you upset?”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him. Not yet, not when you were scared he would cut you off from his life just because Harry thought it was for the best.

“Had a long day yesterday and didn’t want to be alone today,” you mumbled.

“Why don’t we watch a movie?” he offered. “I’ll let you pick which one we watch while I go get some snacks.”

You whined. “I don’t wanna move.”

“It’s just like ten minutes. We’ll cuddle the entire runtime.”

“You promise?”

He kissed your forehead. “I promise.”

It amazed you how easy it was to trust him, to like him, to want to be with him no matter the moment or the activity.

It took you longer to pick a movie than it took him to come back. You didn’t want any snacks, but you still took them because you didn’t want him to worry too much.

You would worry on your own later.

Peter hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. His hands rested on your belly as he watched the movie, giving you butterflies every time he laughed against your skin.

How were you supposed to give this up when it felt so good?

════════════════════════

Mary Jane sat across from you, playing with the glass between her hands. She was listening to you, but by the way she was tapping her fingers against the glass, she was dying to interrupt.

You went on and on because you still couldn’t believe Harry would make you choose between him and somebody else. It didn’t even make sense when he had thrown you and Peter to the side when he started dating Liz.

When her time came, Mary Jane spoke, “You shouldn’t care about what Harry says.”

“I care more about the fact that I ran to Peter like a fucking idiot.”

“He’s your boyfriend.”

You knew she was trying to be the voice of reason, but no, he wasn’t. That made it worse. “But doesn’t it make it look like I already chose?”

“Kinda,” she conceded. “But that’s not a bad thing necessarily.”

“Harry and I grew up together.”

“And Peter fucks you stupid. They have different roles in your life.”

You remained silent. Your cup was already empty and you didn’t need more caffeine. In fact, a soothing tea would have been a better choice — you needed to drive after this once your sister was done with her friends.

“Do you still like Harry or something? I will kill you if you say yes.”

You got that from her tone, she didn’t have to tell you. “I don’t know.”

“But you like Peter more... Right?”

“Yeah, I do.” Maybe liking was selling it short at this point.

Peter didn’t make you choose, and if anything between you were real he wouldn’t make you choose either. You were so sure that you would’ve bet your own life on it.

That fact was a problem. Why couldn’t Harry be like Peter?

“Maybe I need another opinion,” you mused out loud.

“Gwen will tell you the same.”

“What about Flash? Maybe if he had all the details...”

“Flash will try to convince you to kill Harry in his sleep.”

“You think so?” Of course he would, but you were desperate.

“He’s team Peter all the way. Honestly, I would think they have something going on if Peter wasn’t so into you.”

You avoided looking at her. “What should I do?”

“What do you want?”

“Just... I don’t know. About what? From what?”

“Do you want to choose?”

“No.”

“You could choose neither of them.”

“But—“ You shook your head.

“No, say it.”

“I can’t.”

Mary Jane wouldn’t pressure you to talk, she wasn’t that kind of person.

“At least tell Peter about it before Harry does,” she advised.

“I’ll tell him once I’m done here.”

It was late when your sister met you at your table. Mary Jane had left two hours earlier and you had even entertained yourself looking around a few stores and come back.

You drove in silence, allowing her to talk if she wanted to. Maybe asking something would’ve been better, but you didn’t have the energy to find out who your sister was dating or why she had decided to hide it.

Enough was already on your plate, and you needed to trust her, unlike your parents.

Stopping the car, you waited for her to get inside. Your mom hurried outside the moment she opened the door and walked towards your car.

She made you a sign with her hand, asking you to roll the window down.

With a sigh, you indulged her.

“Dinner tomorrow,” she drily told you. “You should bring Peter, I think it’s time your dad meets him.”

“Mom, I’m not marrying him or something like that.”

“I don’t care. Bring him.”

Great. Another fucking problem you had to deal with now. Your dad had always been clear on the type of person he wanted for you and Peter was not it. A shame, really.

“I’ll ask if he isn’t busy,” you compromised.

She looked happy with that. Your mom wished you a good night and turned around. You watched her get inside the house, wondering if she truly wanted you there the next day or not. You never knew with her.

You didn’t get to talk to Peter that night. Instead of telling him you wanted to see him so you could talk in person, you told him your parents wanted to have dinner with him.

Peter said yes immediately and asked about the dress code. God, you didn’t even want to think about clothes.

And with good reason — it wasn’t fair that everything suited him. There was no color or style Peter couldn’t pull off.

But it was probably for the best, he’d make a good impression that way.

You wanted your dad to like him and your sister to trust him and your mom to laugh at his lame jokes. You wanted them to see the person you desperately wanted to be in your life until your last day alive.

Truthfully, you didn’t care if he had feelings for you like you did for him. You enjoyed being around him, his friendship was enough.

The surprise the two of you got when Norman and Harry stood up to greet you was extremely hard to hide.

Norman gave you and Peter a warm smile. “I told Harry to bring his girlfriend, but he didn’t listen to me.”

You shifted on your feet, using Peter as leverage to ground yourself by squeezing his fingers between yours.

Your mom smiled tightly. “Next time it will be.”

Much like Flash did with you, Norman talked wonders about Peter to your parents.

You avoided looking at Harry with the pretense of being polite by gazing at whoever was speaking. Such gesture didn’t sit well with him and he showed it by standing up and walking towards you.

Harry inhaled deeply. “Can we talk in private?”

Unconsciously, you turned to look at Peter. He patted your thigh in encouragement.

“Sure,” you feigned enthusiasm.

You walked across the house in silence, wishing he would tell you to forget about what he said before.

Harry stared at you as you looked around the backyard. Not only were you avoiding speaking first, but you were confused as to when the lighting fixtures had been changed.

The spot you were awkwardly standing at had witnessed many secrets being exchanged between you. Perhaps it would be witness and accomplice of your fallout too.

“So you’ve made your choice.”

“Harry...”

His furious eyes bored into yours. “Why the fuck did you bring him?”

“I wanted to,” you confessed. “Mom told me I should and I agreed.”

“We never bring dates tho dinners like these. We promised,” he reminded you.

“He’s not just a date, this is different.”

“I didn’t invite Liz because I keep my promises.”

“You didn’t invite Liz because you didn’t want to.” You hated that he couldn’t own up to his mistakes with her when he loved her so much. “Stop holding a stupid promise I made when I was six against me.”

“You wouldn’t have liked it if I brought her here while you were single.”

“You stopped talking to me the moment you started dating her. I would’ve expected it.”

“So you went and tricked my best friend into a relationship.”

Was that he thought about you? That you manipulated or forced people to be around you?

“Your best friend? You barely talk to him anymore, Harry. And don’t you dare tell me it’s Liz’s fault.”

He ignored your first comment. “Now I will get in trouble with her for not taking her here if she sees pictures.”

“Call her and tell her the truth. Or blame me, I don’t care.”

“It is your fault,” he bitingly said, “you brought him to something special for us.”

“I didn’t even know you’d be here! And honestly, you should be happy for me.”

“I would be if he wasn’t my best friend.”

“Again with that...” You sighed, hoping you could find the right words. “I don’t want to choose, Harry, and it fucking hurts that you from all people are putting me in this situation God knows why.”

“I’ve told you before, it’s because Peter is—“

You interrupted him, “Peter being your best friend doesn’t matter, he’s not going to drop you like you dropped us.”

“I know I dropped you for a while, but Liz needed my attention.”

You didn’t blame him for focusing more on her, or for wanting to spend most of his time with her, but you knew for a fact that Liz made time for her friends; Harry could’ve done the same.

You started tearing up There was the problem, Harry couldn’t make time for you or Peter or Gwen even when he was free.

Harry stammered, but not a single word came out of his mouth after that. It only made you cry harder. Did he not care even a little bit?

“I’ll give you a moment alone,” he finally mumbled.

You walked further down the backyard, cursing yourself for crying and for wearing uncomfortable shoes. You were supposed to look pretty and taller, not to ruin your makeup and walk around furniture and plants.

You sat on the couch before deciding to lay down on your side. You used to do that when you were a kid too. You’d wait for the pool to be ready in that position and you would lay on your back when you wanted your mom to ask if something was wrong.

Right now, you weren’t sure what you wanted. You definitely didn’t want to talk to whoever the approaching steps belonged to.

You still looked up as a figure stood before you.

Peter crouched down and reached over to wipe your tears. The gesture made more tears come out.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, placing a hand on your waist and slipping his other hand to your back to make you sit up. He sat down beside you. “Come here.”

Peter brought you closer, making you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t understand why he’s making me choose between you and him,” you lamented.

“He is?”

Fuck. You had assumed Harry had told him and that was why he was there. “I didn’t know how to tell you...”

Humming, he rubbed your arm up and down. “You can tell him the truth if you want.”

You lifted your head off his shoulder, searching for his eyes. He didn’t seem to mean it in a bad way. You shook your head.

“Are you sure? I can tell him if you want.”

“It would be pointless.”

“I don’t like seeing you cry.”

“We should change the subject then.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I just...” Peter pursed his lips, second-guessing his next words. “It pains me to see you upset.”

“Peter,” you pleaded, “don’t do this to me.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You’re making everything more difficult than it already was.”

He slanted his head, taken aback. “Because I care about you?”

“Because I think I’m in love with you.”

Peter blinked rapidly before his eyes started dancing all over your face as though he was waiting for you to say something else.

But you didn’t have much to say anymore. All your cards were on the table. Although you had to admit his lack of response would drive you insane if he continued looking at you like that.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you lied. “I’m okay with being just friends. I just thought you should know.”

“No, no, no.” He shook his head, taking himself out of his self-absorption. “I feel the same, I promise! But... I don’t want to ruin your friendship with Harry.”

“So you’re making me choose too?”

“No. I just don’t want you to regret being in a real relationship with me because you lost your best friend.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“Yeah, you’re right...” Peter looked up at the sky and huffed a laugh.

You mirrored his movement. The sky was clear, allowing you the privilege to gaze at the stars.

“Remember that night I walked you to your place and we stopped in the middle of the street to look at the stars?”

You giggled. You had been on the verge of crying that night after Harry ditched you for Liz if it hadn’t been because Gwen distracted you. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Should I have kissed you that night?”

You weren’t sure, it was hard to know if you would’ve kissed back or not. You wanted to believe you wouldn’t have, but who knew. “Does it matter?”

“No.” Peter twisted his body and cupped your cheek so you’d look at him. You softly smiled at him and he gave you a small kiss. “Not anymore.”

[beskarhearts]

Where You Belong (Din Djarin x reader)

Connection series Pt. 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, nightmares, loss, anxiety, angst (and lots of fluff)

Word count: over 7.5K

Summary: Din takes you on a picnic but also realizes he had forgotten to tell you something very important.

Notes: This chapter... it was an experience to write it. I am really interested to see your reaction to it and I hope you love it! I was also wondering from any other fanfic writers and from you readers: what do you think is the best time to post new chapters?

Previous Part ____ Next Part

______________________________________________________

You walked into your grandmother’s room to find her pacing around frantically. You instantly recognized the expression on her face. She was pissed. Absolutely livid. Her face was all scrunched up, her eyebrows bunched together, and she was biting her lip raw. She didn’t even notice you in the doorway, clearly too busy being consumed in her thoughts. “Who put you in this great of a mood, Gram?” you joked, half expecting her to go off on a tangent about your mother. The two of them had been at each others throats lately, especially ever since you accidentally revealed to your mom that your grandma had been training you.

Her train of thought broke and she jumped at the sound of your voice, clearly not expecting any visitors. She turned to look at you, her eyes warming up a little bit at the sight of you but you could still feel the upset radiating off her body. You both were similar in that way: you both felt deeply. “Damn Mandalorians.”

It was now your turn to scrunch up your eyebrows, giving her a quizzical expression at her answer. You had heard of Mandalorians and knew they were armored bounty hunters. But your knowledge didn’t really surpass that.  “Mandalorians?”

She scoffed, as if the question was so stupid, and shook her head. “Yes. I ran into one on my way home from town and,” she bit her lip, trying to find something to say besides just a string of curse words “They are ignorant and awful people.”

The statement shocked you. Gram was a strong, hard-headed woman who wasn’t ever afraid to tell the truth. But she wasn’t biased. She was accepting of all people, creatures, animals, and even droids. It was just part of her, to accept people as they were and not judge them based off what they looked like or their beliefs. “Woah. What is so wrong with Mandalorians?”

You knew it wasn’t because of their job. You lived on Jakku your whole life and had seen everything, from scavengers to bounty hunters to even worse. It was part of everyday life here and never appeared to bother her. “They hate us. Because of who we are.”

“What?”

“Mandalorians and Jedis do not get along. They are enemies.”

She finally sat down on her bed, strumming her fingers against her thighs. She was still frustrated but seeming to calm down. You sat next to her, looking over at her. “Why?”

“There was a Mandalorian-Jedi War that happened on their planet, the planet of Mandalore.”‘

“Mandalorians have their own planet?”

“Not anymore. In the war, the Jedi’s won but they destroyed Mandalore. It’s practically inhospitable.”

Your face softened. That sounded horrible. You couldn’t imagine your home planet just being destroyed into absolute nothingness. Your Gram noticed your expression and shook her head. “You are too kind. You can’t empathize with the Mandalorians.”

“Their whole entire planet got destroyed. That seems... extreme.”

The woman stood up, now facing you with a fierceness in her eyes and her finger pointed at you. “The only reason that war happened is because the Mandalorians hated us. They didn’t understand our powers and instead of leaving us alone, they created weapons and armor to destroy us.”

“Okay. But that was in the past.”

“It doesn’t matter. That hatred is still there.” She bent down so she could be eye level. “Listen to me closely. If you ever meet an Mandalorian, do not trust them or befriend them. Because as soon as they learn what you are, they will hate you and probably want to kill you. Mandalorians are brutish people with no compassion. They might as well be damn droids. Do you understand?”

You had never heard your grandmother speak about anyone like this and it shocked you to the core. You questioned whether or not this was just some old beef she was still holding onto, or whether this was reality. Either way, you nodded your head slowly, not wanting to upset her further. “Okay. I won’t.”

_________________________________

“Din, this is taking forever.”

“Sweet one, you are being very impatient.”

“I just don’t like my vision being restricted.”

“I am leading you to something you will like.”

“Can’t I just close my eyes on my own and you can take your big man hands away from my eyes?”

“No. Because you will look.”

You huff at his response, crossing your arms as Din continued leading you towards this secret destination. It was true - you probably would try to sneak a peak - but you just wanted his hand off your face because it was making you uneasy. One hand was still gloved but the other wasn’t and that was the one covering your eyes. His whole hand was so large, covering a ridiculously large portion of your face, and they were warm. You could feel yourself flush from the skin to skin contact.  “Well, are we close at least?”

“Yes.” 

Din had told you that you guys were landing on a random planet and he had a surprise for you. He had locked you in the ship, telling you not look out the windows of the cockpit, and gone outside for what felt like forever. Then once he finally came back, he insisted you couldn’t look until you were at the surprise. But that had felt like forever ago and you two had just been walking on and on. You tried to pay attention to your surroundings as much as you could, gathering clues as to where you were and what you were doing. You knew their was grass because it was brushing against your ankles with each step you took towards your destination. It was also moist, meaning you were probably on a planet where it rained. Every once and a while, you would heard a loud squawk ring out, meaning there were animals of some type around. But otherwise, all you heard was the rustling of the breeze against the grass and what you believed to be trees. You didn’t hear any other voices or sounds for miles, meaning you were most likely completely alone.You could feel the sun on your skin, spreading warmth throughout your body. It sounded weird but you could smell the nature. You could smell the grass and the wind and something sweet - maybe a fruit or flower of some sort.

You continued walking until your foot tumbled into something hard, causing you to spring forward and Din held you up so you didn’t fall. “See? This is a safety hazard. I could of died just now.”

Din let out a scoff and he was so close that it felt like you could feel the modulator reverberate through you. “I’m holding on to you. You weren’t going to die.”

“That’s what you think. But just wait. A rock is going to take me out and then you will be sorry.” 

Din finally stopped, your body once again lurching against him in the sudden  change. His hand still covered your eyes, fingers pressed tightly together so you couldn’t peak through. “Are you going to keep blabbering or do you want to see what it is?”

You smiled big, finally satisfied that you had stopped walking. “We are finally done walking?”

“You whine a lot for a person being surprised.”

You let out a laugh at the insult. “And you are very bossy for a man being the surpriser.” 

Another exasperated sigh. “Maybe we should head back to the Crest.”

“Oh, shut up and take your hands off me.” Din’s hand finally dropped from your face and it took you a second to adjust to the surroundings. It was bright, the sun shining above you two. You blinked a few times, finally adjusting to the change when you let out a small gasp. 

You were stood in the middle of a field full of hundreds of flowers. They were of all kinds, some short and some tall. Some were large and some were small. They came in every color you could ever imagine and you swore you had never seen something so beautiful. You had never lived in a place that wasn’t mostly barren and almost monochromatic. You knew there were planets with flowers and colors and vibrancy, but you never could of imagined that it could be this gorgeous. You took a deep breath in, smelling the divine sweetness of all the plants surrounding you. A small laugh escaped your lips at the wonder of it. This seemed like a place totally unscathed by the word. It hadn’t been touched by the evil and corruptness of this galaxy and there was an inherent pureness to it. 

You heard a shuffle through the flowers and looked down to find the kid, grabbing at flowers with a big smile. You knew what was coming before it even happened as he grabbed a handful of petals and shoved it into his mouth. You giggled as Din bent over, scolding him about not eating everything he saw.

You turned back to look at everything when your eyes landed on a blanket in the middle of the field, laid out perfectly. It was one of the blankets you had bought at the marketplace, it’s beautiful array of colors nearly blending in with the flowers. Neatly arranged on the blanket was a variety of food and a container of drink. You felt the biggest smile crawl onto your face as you realized what it was. “Din Djarin, did you set up a picnic?”

You turned around, seeing him standing there in the field with the kid held in his arms. The sight of it took your breath away. The sun reflected off Din’s armor, making him stand out and shine. The contrast between the silver of the metal and the flowers around him was stunning. The kid was held in his arm, trying to get away with a big toothy grin on his face, a petal in the corner of his mouth as his ears flopped gently in the breeze. You were taken aback by how beautiful your family was and how much joy a single moment like this could make you feel. You felt in that moment like this is where you belonged. Wherever Din was was where you knew you were meant to be.

“Yeah. I guess I did.” Din said, shrugging his shoulders as if this wasn’t the one of the nicest things anybody had ever done with you. You found yourself wanting to run towards him and hug him, feel him hold you in his arms, with your kid between you guys letting out little giggles. “I thought this would be okay. A nice stop.”

“Okay?” You shook your head at Din. “Din, this is... breathtaking. I have never seen anything like this.”

Din stepped towards you, his helmet leaning down as you made eye contact with his visor. “I’m glad. You deserve something like this.”

You shyly smiled at his words, cursing yourself for feeling your face heat up. “So do you, Din.” 

_________________________________

You had now spent hours out here, sitting in this field with Din while just talking and playing with the kid, who had somehow successfully caught (and eaten) three butterflies. The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping slightly, although it was a pleasant, welcoming coolness after a day in the sun. You had eaten food and it was all delicious. Succulent, juicy fruits and bread that had been warmed by the sun. Now the child was asleep and back in his hover pram, the cover on completely in order to block any light from bothering him. 

You turned to look over at Din, who had sat with you the whole time, and suddenly felt incredibly rude. “Din, you didn’t eat anything.”

Din shrugged his shoulders. You knew he probably hadn’t even noticed. When you first joined him, you noticed that he could go hours without eating. It was very inconvenient for him to eat, especially when there were people around. And you understood that but you swore the man could go literal days without consuming anything and he wouldn’t even think twice about it. You eventually started forcing him to eat, leaving him alone in the hull of the ship while you and the kid sat in the cockpit, that way he could eat alone and properly enjoy a meal. “I’m fine.” 

You shook your head and started pushing the food in front of him. “No, come on. You need to eat.” You looked all around, surveying the area for any people. You hadn’t seen a single soul today and Din told you there were no inhabitants on the planet, which you found shocking. “How about I take the kid back to the Crest and you can eat out here? Enjoy the fresh air.”

You started rising from your place on the ground when Din grabbed at your arm, pulling you down. “No. Don’t go.”

You smiled at the tone of his voice. “It’s fine.”

“Wait,” You paused again, looking back at Din to see his helmet looking right at you. “I trust you.”

You scrunched up your eyebrows, not exactly sure how that pertained to the discussion but you still felt warmth pool in your chest. “I’m very glad you trust me but I don’t know what that has to do with you eating.”

“I have an idea.”

You quirked an eyebrow, tilting your head at him. “What?”

“Just sit right there, okay?” 

You nodded slowly, dropping yourself back down next to him. You watched as Din’s hand left your wrist and he brought them up to his neck, pulling at the bunch of fabric wrapped around it. “Din, what are you doing?”

The fabric pooled away from his neck and you tried your best to tear your eyes away from the skin but found it hard to. His skin was tan, surprising to you since he always wore the armor, but it looked warm and inviting. “Just let me do something.”

Din scooted closer to you, taking the scarf in his hands and folding it over before bringing it up to your face. You leaned back a little until he pulled the fabric over your eyes and you realized what he was doing. You felt him tug at the back of your head, securely tying the fabric in place. “Can you see anything?”

You turned your head in the direction the voice was coming from. It was pitch black and you wouldn’t be able to see a thing unless you tore the fabric away. “No. Completely dark.”

“You okay like that?”

You smiled softly at his question. You appreciated how he always checked in on you, to make sure you were okay. Even if it inconvenienced his comfortability. “Yes. I’m very comfortable with blindfolds.” You meant it as a joke but felt yourself cringe at the words that spilled from your mouth. “That sounded way worse than I meant it.”

You heard Din snort, a sound that wiped away any embarrassment you felt. “Okay. I’m going to take it off. Just don’t take the scarf away from your eyes.”

“I won’t.”

A click rung out, followed by a long hiss, and it suddenly hit you. Din was taking his helmet off. You knew he did that before. He surely didn’t shower or sleep with it on. But when he was doing those things, you weren’t sat right next to him. You didn’t have the power to look, not that you ever would put him in that situation. You found yourself wondering if he had ever done this before with anyone else. 

You heard some shuffling and a plop on the blanket, probably him placing his helmet right next to him. You listened closely for the next sound to signal what was happening when you heard him take what sounded like a bite, that was followed by a hum. You smiled, glad that Din was able to enjoy the meal and not just scarf it down as fast as possible like he always did. “This fruit is good.”

Maker. You felt like your whole entire body just melted. It hadn’t even crossed your mind that since Din’s helmet was off, you would hear his voice. Like his actual voice. Nothing modulated or tainted by a helmet. Just him. And it was the best sound you had ever heard. His voice was still kind of raspy like it was in the helmet, but softer and so much warmer. It reminded you of the sun and the happiness it brought you. And it was a weird thing to think, but you thought that his voice sounded like how brown eyes look. At least how you think his eyes looked. You suddenly cursed his damn helmet for blocking out his sweet voice and couldn’t believe this was your first time hearing it, unfiltered and just so uniquely Din. 

“Y-yeah.” You mumbled out, still being so affected by hearing his voice. 

“Are you okay?” You smiled brightly at his question. You swear you could listen to him talk all day. The man could never shut up and you would be perfectly content. You found yourself plotting ways to get him to take off the helmet so you could hear it more often, not caring that you had to wear a blindfold in order to hear it.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You are just... smiling.”

You probably looked like a raging lunatic, a blindfold over your eyes and the biggest smile on your face as Din just sat there and ate. “I’ve never heard your voice before. At least not without the helmet.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve got a great voice.” 

“I have a great voice?” Genuine confusion could be heard and you let out a little chuckle at it.

“Yes. It’s nice. Comforting.” You spared him anymore details, probably already making a fool of yourself and not wanting to embarrass him further by droning on about his voice, because you knew you could do it.

“I’ve never had anyone tell me that. Though I can’t really think of anyone whose heard my voice before.”

“Well, I feel honored.” You laid back against the blanket, not being able to see it, but facing the sky. You brought your hands to behind your head, leaning back on them. “Talk more.”

A small noise, perhaps a clearing of the throat, could be heard in response to that. “About what?”

You paused a moment, thinking before coming to an answer. “Teach me some Mando’a.” You loved hearing Din speak Mando’a. It was a part of his life he was able to share with others and you imagined hearing him speak it without the helmet on was even better.

“Okay. Let me think.” Din paused and you heard him take another bite. You imagined him, fully clad in his armor with his head poking out. You had a hard time imagining his face but you still had a few ideas. He probably had brown hair that matched eyes. He didn’t seem like a guy with light hair or really, really dark hair. He probably had a nice, strong chin that matched his personality. “Mesh’la.”

You repeated the word, nodding when he hummed to indicate you pronounced it properly. “What does that mean?”

“Beautiful.”

You smiled. That seemed like a perfect word to describe this moment. “Good word for this place.”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

“Aliit. That means family.”

You smiled again. “Aliit. I like that word. Keep going.”

“Cabur.” 

“And that means?”

“Protector.” 

“Very fitting for you.”

“You think so?” His voice was softer this time and you could sense a feeling of either pride or perhaps gratefulness. It made your heart soften. You knew how seriously he took protecting you guys, and cabur seemed like the perfect title for him. 

You nodded quickly. “Of course, Din. Tell me more.”

“So needy.” You heard him laugh and Maker, it was even better than his voice. Even warmer and brighter. 

“Shut up and keep talking.” You teased, one of the corners of your lips quirking upwards.

“Mir’sheb.”

“Ooh, let me guess. Something sweet and nice.”

“Smart ass.”

You let out a loud laugh at that one, sitting upright again, getting closer to Din and hearing his laugh echo out once again into the field. His laugh was all-consuming and like that first breath of fresh air after going so long without it. “What does shit head mean? That way I can have a new, special nick name for you.”

Din let out another laugh at the joke. “I don’t know about shit head but shit is osik.”

“I like that word.”

“Of course you do.” 

You both chuckle and you hear him eat some more food. “One more word.”

You heard him hum, pausing for a few moments. “Murcyur.”

“What does that one mean?”

“Kiss.” 

You froze completely. Why the hell would Din say something like that? Because now all you can think about is kissing Din and the mere thought of it is giving you heart palpitations and you feel like you might just explode. His lips are just out, exposed. Probably very kissable. They are probably like his hands - rough but also soft. The kind of lips that are masculine but gentle, not over aggressive. 

Shit. This is not okay. You can’t be thinking about kissing Din. Because this is just a rabbit hole and one second you are thinking about kissing Din and the next you are wanting to marry the man. And you don’t live the kind of life where you can just think things like this.

Then you realized you couldn’t see Din and what if he was going to do something. Something like kiss you. You’re pretty sure that if he did that, you’d fucking pass out and you can’t have that happen. You let out an awkward chuckle, not even sure why you were laughing but not able to stop it. “Good to know, buster.”

Where the fuck did buster come from? You are pretty sure you have never, ever said that word your whole entire life. And you are certain that is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. Out of all the dumb shit to leave your mouth, that took the cake. Change the topic, dumb ass. “Can I ask you a question?”

You didn’t even have a fucking question planned. What were you doing? You heard Din say, “Yeah.” and your mind blanked. 

Any question. A single question. “What happens if someone sees your face?” 

Great, now he probably just thinks that is all you care about. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if you are in the refresher and I accidentally walk in on you? Do you have to kill me?”

“Do you often think about walking in on me when I’m in the refresher?” Din said the words plainly, like he was asking an innocent question, but you swore you could hear the grin on his face.

You scoffed theatrically, hoping you weren’t showing just how flustered you were. “No. I was just inquiring.”

Din hummed, still teasing you, and you suddenly wanted him to shut up very badly. He was getting too cocky. “Well, one of two things happen if someone sees me. First option is I kill them.”

“Well then I will definitely never walk in on you in the shower.” You paused. “N-not that I wanted to.”

“Well, I wouldn’t kill you anyways. I never could.”

“What then? Drop me off on a planet?”

Din scoffed like you had suggested the most ridiculous thing in the world. “I would never abandon you. Ever.”

“Well then, what is this second option?” Din is suddenly silent and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he simply disappeared. “Hello?”

“Well, you either kill them or... ummm-” You hear him fumble with his words and normally you’d find it adorable (especially without the helmet) but now it is just making you nervous.

“Or..?”

“Marry them.”

Now that caused you to take a sharp intake of air in and then start choking like a damn idiot. You swore that the galaxy had it out for you in that moment because this was all way too much for you to handle. Din and you in a field of the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen, talking about kissing and marrying and hearing his voice... It was like you were overdosing. 

Then you were hit with the realization of what Din truly said. If Din wouldn’t kill you or ditch you if you ever accidentally saw him... shit. “Huh... neat.” You muttered, finally trying to collect yourself.

“You okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” Make a joke or something. “You just better hope I never accidentally see that face of yours because you don’t want to be stuck with me as your riddur.”

“How do you know that word?”

“What word?”

“Riddur.”

Oh shit. You hadn’t even thought of the fact that the woman at the stand had taught you that word and not Din. “You must have said it before.”

“I’ve never said that word before.”

“Oh, yes. It must of been from my secret Mando’a tutor then.” You smirked, hoping Din shrugged it off and luckily he didn’t say anything else.

“Let me put my helmet back on.”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine.”

“No. It’s getting dark and I’ve had it off long enough.” You heard some movement and then a click that you registered as Din’s helmet being put back on. You then heard him shuffle towards you, his fingers untying the knot and the scarf dropping from your eyes. You blinked a few times and realized it was getting pretty dark, the sun just barely skirting the horizon. You turned, seeing Din besides you, putting the scarf back around his neck. 

You gave him a small smile. “This was nice.”

“Yeah. It was.” He gave you a small nod before starting to stand. “We should start heading back to the Crest.”

“Yeah.”

_________________________________

Your nightmares happen way less often but now when they occur, it’s worse than before.

It is always the same thing. Your home, the very place you had been born in all those years ago, was up in flames, illuminating the night sky in a way that caused your stomach to twist up. The wounds on your back and arms were fresh, stinging so much with every movement that it felt like you would bunch over and hurl from it. You keep stumbling and that’s when you find them. Your parents, laid on the ground like rag-dolls. Like they were meaningless. And every time you see them, you let out a wail so loud it seems to consume every part of your being, until you are nothing but the very pain you feel.

That is usually how it would end. But now it wouldn’t just be your parents. Din would be there, in his beskar armor, laid out on the ground. And you couldn’t see his face but every fiber of your being knew he was gone and it was your fault. You would feel your stomach absolutely drop and this terrifying dread fill every part of your body, consuming you until you felt like you’d collapse. And even when you eventually woke up, sweat covering your body and your hands shaking, that feeling would still be there, eating you up raw.

Tonight was no exception. You woke up in the middle of the night, hyperventilating with such an overwhelming sense of guilt washing over you, almost drowning you in it. You brought your shaky hands up to your face, wiping away at the tears streaming down it. Nights like these were tough. You’d lay there on your cot, staring up at the ceiling and fighting sleep. Because you couldn’t fall asleep and see it again. The images were already burned into your mind and that was bad enough. Experiencing it again was a hell you couldn’t endure multiple times, especially not in the same night.

You sit up, planting your hands on your knees and taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. The Crest was completely silent, until you heard a small sound from the cockpit. You looked over to where Din slept, finding the door closed which meant he should of been asleep. You reach for the blaster you’ve kept hidden under your pillow, your fingers reaching around it and pulling it in front of you. Your hands were still shaking slightly but you held the blaster confidently in front of you, rising from the cot and slowly letting yourself step towards the noise coming from the cockpit, tip toeing silently towards the ladder leading to the small space. You keep one hand of the blaster, using the other to slowly make your way up. You pop your head up, blaster coming up with you, and exhale when you see it’s just Din in his seat, polishing some armor. 

“Din, what are you doing?” You quietly hiss, pulling your whole body up and into the cockpit, putting the blaster down and sitting down in the passengers seat.

Din looked up at you, his helmet moving from his armor to your face. He was in his pajamas still, long sleeve shirt and long pants covering most of his skin. “Did I wake you?”

“No. I,” You trail off, not wanting to bother Din with your nightmare. You would rather ignore it and just talk with him. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“You were just knocked out when I came up here.”

“Oh, so you watch me sleep now?” You raise an eyebrow teasingly, already feeling more at ease. 

“Yeah. The drool really does something for me.”

You gasp at Din’s quip, your mouth slightly widened in shock. “I do not drool.”

“Okay, sweet one.” Din sarcastically said, his helmet rolling back down to the armor in his lap.

You roll your eyes, scoffing slightly to which you hear Din chuckle. “Why are you polishing your armor in the middle of the night?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just... thinking.”

You lean against one of the chair’s arms, tucking some hair behind your ears. “What were you thinking about?”

Din let out a small sigh and you furrowed your brows. Something was going on. He placed his armor on the floor besides him, looking back up to you. “What do you want from life?”

You tilted your head back, a little shocked by Din’s question. “What do you mean?”

“When you imagine your life in the future, what do you want?”

That was a heavy question. Once, long before the worlds cruel hands had twisted your life, you had hoped for a rather normal future. You could of seen yourself working on Jakku, taking over your father’s business. Maybe even settling down one day and having a kid or two. It was very domestic and probably boring, but it was calm and docile. So wildly different from the life you had been given so far.

But now life was so different. For the longest time, you didn’t think about your future. You just focused on getting through the day. Life was hard enough and plaguing yourself with thoughts of what could of been felt like a cruel joke. Now it was different, though. You found yourself hoping, yearning for some kind of future. And in every version of it, you found yourself incorporating Din somehow. Today you had done that very thing. Laying in that field with Din and the kid, no worries or concerns, made you think. It would be nice to live on a planet like this, where you didn’t have to worry about anybody or anything. Just you, the kid, and Din. 

But that kind of thought was embarrassing to admit out loud. Because while you could confidently say that you and Din were friends, in the end you had been hired to take care of the ship and the kid. And you guys never put a timeline on you job, but you knew it would come to an end one day. Whether that was cause the kid was older or Din didn’t need you anymore or maybe Din found something else, something you didn’t fit into.

“I don’t really know. One day I want to just... settle down, I guess. Not always be so worried.” You shrugged at your answer. It was true, but you let out a lot. “What about you?”

“I never really thought about it before. But now... with the kid and you, it’s hard not to.”

You quirked your head at the answer. You knew the kid had to be part of the reason why Din was thinking about this, but he also mentioned you. Did that mean that in his future he saw you? Or was he just thinking of how one day you’d be gone? “What do you mean?”

“I just want to do right by you guys. You two deserve to be happy and safe.”

“We are happy and safe.”

“This isn’t the life you two deserve. You deserve normalcy and-”

“Din, stop.” You saw the man lean back against his chair, exasperated. “You have changed my life for the better. And the kids. We were both in such dark places before you came along. So don’t belittle what you’ve done for us.”

“Yeah. But I can’t even get the kid to where he belongs.”

You pause at that. To where he belongs? What the kriff did that mean? He belonged with Din, his father, and you. He was safe here. “What?”

Din turned his helmet towards you and let out a loud sigh. “Dank farrik.” 

You looked up at him as he rose from his seat, putting his hands on his helmet like he was cradling his head. “What is it, Din?”

Din let his hands drop, looking over at you. “I haven’t told you something.”

Your heart stopped. This wasn’t good, at all. You could sense it in Din’s demeanor and his tone. “What is going on?”

“The kid... doesn’t belong with me. His powers are too much for me. I can’t help him. He needs someone who knows how to train him.” You knew where this was going before Din even finishes and you feel your stomach drop. “I was quested to find a Jedi who can take him in.”

You felt like you were going to throw up, your head dropping to look down into your lap. You couldn’t look at Din right now. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice was shaking, tears pricking at your eyes. 

“I got lost in this, in you. It’s been so nice, like life is normal.” You knew exactly what he was talking about because you had felt it almost every day. And you should of known it was too good to be true. “I’m sorry, cyar’ika.” 

You felt his hands try to reach out for you and you pushed them away, finally looking up at him and feeling tears rush down. “Don’t.” You stood from your seat. “Don’t cyar’ika me. You should have told me.”

He should of. He knew how much you had lost. He knew your family had been ripped away from you and how hard it was for you to move on. And then he gave you a family. The kid and him were your new family. And you had dumbly let yourself fantasize about the future of your family. Of raising the kid with Din and maybe one day your relationship with Din would move further. You had let yourself do that, all without knowing that this family would be taken away from you too. And you were supposed to let it happen.

What Din was saying made sense. You knew the kid was powerful. You could feel it before you were made witness to his abilities. You knew it was why people wanted him, so they could exploit it. You thought that was the extent of it though. You didn’t think about how the kid would need training. You had let yourself get too caught up in your feelings and in your love for him to see past it, towards the kids future. 

“I know.”

“You kept that from me. You let me join you guys without warning me. You gave me a family... a family that’s got an expiration date on it.”

“What?”

“I have lost all my family, Din. I can’t do that again. You’ll find a Jedi and then the kid will be gone. And then I’ll be gone.”

“What are you talking about?”

You threw your hands up. “Din, the only reason I’m here is because the kid. Hell, the kid is the only reason you brought me on. Without him, you would of left me because you didn’t want me.” You feel your voice crack with the last sentence. You were distraught and angry and these emotions were wrecking havoc on you.

“That’s not true. All I want is-”

“No, it is.” You interrupted. “If the kid hadn’t liked me and wanted me to come, I wouldn’t have. Which means as soon as he is gone, my job here is done and I’m gone.” 

A silence fell over the cockpit, a tension so palpable that you swore you could cut into it. You hated this. You hated what you were feeling and you hated arguing with Din and you hated that you knew you were going to lose him. Part of you wished you were still naive, that you could of been allowed to think your silly little thoughts about family.

“I don’t want you to go. Please.”

You winced at the way Din spoke. It was raw and you swore you could feel the pain. But you just turned away. “I can’t do this again.”

“I lost my family too. I understand this.”

And maybe that was true. But you don’t think he would ever understand the guilt settling into the pit of your stomach. The kid needed a Jedi, someone who understood the Force and could train him. He needed a master, someone so exceptional because the kid’s connection with the Force was strong, making his powers even stronger. 

You were once trained. Your grandmother had shown you how to use the Force, how to be one with it and allow it to flow within you. But that night, when you had lost your family and used your abilities to kill... it wasn’t the same. You no longer felt a healthy respect for the Force and felt wonder at the way you were able to use it. All you felt was fear of what you could become. So you abandoned it, tried your best to forget all of your training and vowed to never use it. A vow you had now kept for years. Now all your training might as well had been reversed. Even if you wanted to use it, you couldn’t train the kid. It took years for your grandmother to train you and in order to even begin to think about training the kid, you would need to retrain yourself, which you didn’t even think was possible. And even it was possible, the child was too powerful for you. You’d never be able to help him like a true Jedi Master would be able to.

And you felt at fault for that. If you were a better Jedi, a better teacher, a better person, you’d be able to do it. And you’d be able to keep the kid with you and Din. You wouldn’t have to hand him off to someone you didn’t know.

“You don’t understand.” You croaked out, wiping away all the tears. 

“Then tell me what I don’t understand.”

You remembered your mother’s words. Her preaching to you over and over again to never tell anyone what you were. You remembered your Grandmother ranting about the distain between Jedis and Mandalorians and how if a Mandalorian learned what you were, they’d hate you. And you could of seen Din looking past that, not being biased. But now if he learned what you were and how you couldn’t train the child and keep his kid with him, he’d hate you. And you wouldn’t blame him. So you couldn’t ever tell Din, could never reveal that part of yourself to him. You’d have to keep it hidden like you’d done your whole life.

“I need to be alone.” You turned to the ladder, slipping down it without giving Din a chance to stop you. You marched over to where the kid slept, opening the door and finding him peacefully asleep, huddled with a blanket in his hammock. He was blissfully unaware of the way you were failing him and of the turmoil going on in your mind. You felt more tears fall down, your hand reaching out to grab his little hand.

You had gotten too close to him and Din. But you knew if you stayed, you’d only get closer. The child needed help. And Din was so intoxicating. You couldn’t distance yourself from either of them.

Unless you left.

_________________________________

Din found her sitting in the same field of flowers from yesterday, hugging her knees to her chest and staring into the sunrise. It was early morning and there was a crispness to the cool morning air. Even with the helmet on, Din could smell the sweetness of the flora. If the situation were different, Din would love to sit out here with her like they had done last night. But things were hard right now.

He hadn’t slept at all. He had just sat in the cockpit, staring out the window and reflecting on just how badly he had messed up. He knew he messed up, really bad. He knew it when he realized he had never told her about his quest. But he didn’t think he truly understood just how much it would have impacted her until she looked at him with those eyes. They were so full of hurt and betrayal, and Din hated that he was the one to cause it. That was when Din realized how much deeper this went for her. And he knew there was something she hadn’t told him. Something that was eating away at her, at his cyar’ika. And he wanted to know what it was so badly, but he also wanted to respect her boundaries like she had done for him time and time again.

Din stepped towards her, lowering himself down to sit besides her. She didn’t turn to look at him, her steady gaze remaining on the array of colors illuminating the sky as the sun rose. 

“I’m sorry.” Din’s heart broke at the apology she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. She had nothing to be sorry about. Everything that had happened was his fault. He should of told her about the kid as soon as he agreed to let her on and especially once they started getting so close. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Din sighed, laying his hands down on each side of his body, clutching onto the ground like it was an anchor. “I should of told you.”

She nodded her head, finally looking over at him. He could see the fatigue on her face but in this light, she still looked so beautiful. It shocked Din how someone could so consistently take his breath away. “I understand it is hard for you too.”

That was definitely true. Din hadn’t had a family in so long. And now that he did, he was so scared of losing it but it also felt like a definitive. The kid had to be trained and it tore away at Din, but he couldn’t do it. The child needed someone who knew how to help him and Din knew it should be sooner rather than later. Perhaps that was why he never referred to the kid as his son and always kept this small barrier up. Because Din knew if he fully let the kid into his heart, he would break once he had to let him go. And perhaps that was the pain every parent had to endure but he couldn’t accept it. He had already lost too much.

And her words still echoed in his mind. Which means as soon as he is gone, my job here is done and I’m gone. Is that what she wanted? Or did she truly not realize how much he cared for her? Because Din heard that and felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. Unlike the child, Din allowed himself to get closer to her than any other person in the galaxy. Perhaps it was naive, but he thought once the kid was gone, he would still have her. That she would want to stay with him. That she would be by his side in whatever came next. “Sweet one.”

She closed her eyes for a minute at the nickname and Din brought a gloved hand up to her face, just barely brushing her cheek but he felt her lean into it. He wanted to touch her, to hold her and tell her just how much he cared for her. “Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked and he felt himself choke up as she opened her eyes, looking straight at him. “I can’t lose you, cyar’ika.”

Her eyes softened and she nodded slowly. “I don’t want to go.”

“Then don’t. Even when the child is gone... you can stay. I want you to stay.” 

“Yeah?”

Din’s heart clench at her need for reassurance. He hadn’t even realized how reliant he was on her until the thought of her leaving scared him to death. He swore he needed her more than he needed air. “Yes.”

She reached her hand up, holding onto the one that touched her face. Din brought it away from her, feeling her twist her fingers within his. “Okay.”

Din let out a deep breathe, feeling whole again as she leaned her forehead against his helmet. She closed her eyes and Din brought his other hand to hers, linking his fingers with hers so both of his hands were full. This is where he belonged: with her. Wherever she was was his home. 

He felt the words on the tip of his tongue. But those three words had the power to change so much and he had already felt like he was so close to losing her. He couldn’t risk it.

Perhaps another time, he could tell her how much he loved her.

Tag List: @ilikethoseodds @dindaddy​ @poguesvixen @starspangledwidow​ @fangirlalexia​

[morizoras-cave]

Purple Patches

Benedict Cumberbatch x Teen!Co-Star!Reader, Tom Holland x Teen!Co-star!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluffy ending

Description: Filming the newest Dr. Strange movie (in which Tom would also appear), you grow quite close with the two leads, Tom and Benedict. But you’re hiding something alarming from them. Four months in the entire crew get a week off to see their families for Christmas, and when you return Tom and Benedict can’t help but feel troubled, as your body is rippled with purple patches.

Warnings: CHILD ABUSE, physical abuse, broken family, alcoholism, depression, anxiety??

A/N: I had another imagine written but im ngl its kind of.. weird? its unconventional for sure. and its definitely bad. so, maybe ill rewrite someday or something? ALSO SORRY IF YOU DONT CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS, JUST IMAGINE YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF EVIL CHRISTIAN STEP DAD WHO FORCES IT INTO YOUR FAMILY

The taxi you sat in drove slowly in the New York traffic, as snow fell outside, coating the entire city in blinding white. You couldn’t enjoy it however. Your entire body hurt, and yet you still couldn’t find even a moment to worry about your health. All you could think about was them.

Tom and Benedict. Your sweetest coworkers, and at this point your closest.. anything. Family, friends? Who cares, you had no one else. You’d gone back for the holidays like everyone else, even though you wished you could have just stayed at in your trailer. Your dad, like any other time you saw him, had used this time to pour his anger and alcoholism out on you. Your body which had finally begun to heal, was now back to square one, covered in cuts and bruises. 

You knew what would happen if anyone found out. You’d be taken from your family. But in truth, although you hated being around him, you wanted to wait for your dad. You wanted to wait for him to get over his alcoholism, you wanted him to get better, and then he’d treat you better. 

But they would find out. You were covered in bruises and purple patches. Your face was fine, except for your neck, but the rest of your body was ruined. Ugly. You could hide most of it, but it hurt. Even just sitting there, in the soft and plush taxi seat, you body was aching and wailing like a police siren. 

And what if they noticed you foundation-covered hands? Or the movie required you to wear something more revealing? 

“You okay?” the deep voice of your taxi driver ripped you from your thoughts. A single tear had slid down your face. You cleared your throat and nodded, wiping the tear from your cheek. 

You arrived at the set, and an impossible knot had been tied in your stomach. Nervousness tingled in your heart and your legs, but you got up anyway, trying to calm your breath. The moment you stood up, you winced and stopped. 

You managed to roll your luggage to your trailer, biting your lip continuously in order to keep yourself from screaming. You threw it on the floor of your trailer, whimpering and doubling over in pain. 

“Y/n!” a rapid knock on your door, interrupted you. It was Tom’s voice. You took a shaky breath, closing your eyes, and then opening the door. Tom stood there in your doorway like a smiling idiot. Your lips widened into a smile just from seeing him.

“Y/n!” he repeated stepping inside and wrapping his arms around you in a hug. You bit your lip again, hiding your pain-wrenched face in his chest, before hugging him back. He placed his head on yours sweetly. “I missed you!” he gushed. 

You hit his chest playfully, “I missed you too,” you frowned for a moment and looked away. Tom’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you okay?” You simply nodded. Tom stared at you for a moment and then shook his head. “Anyway, um, Benedict asked me to tell you that he’s invited both of us youngsters out for dinner tonight. Just as one last ‘fuck you!’ to work, before officially start back up tomorrow.”

“That does sound like something he would do,” you agreed and Tom laughed, punching your shoulder playfully. You yelped loudly, retreating quickly from him. 

“Woah,” he exclaimed, holding his hands up, “Are you okay? What happened to your shoulder?” 

“I fell,” you said. Nervousness jabbed at your ribs. You’d barely talked to Tom for a minute and he’d already asked if you were okay twice. He seemed to buy your explanation, and apologized for accidentally hitting your sore shoulder, to which you nodded absently. 

Tom was silent for a couple of heartbeats. He studied you. You were not usually like this. Or maybe you had been a little like this those four months ago, when you first started filming. He didn’t understand what caused you to be that way, so distant and unhappy. 

“Hey, anyway, I’m gonna go, I’m trying to actually read the script this time,” he joked, and you laughed because you knew it was a hopeless task. 

“Have fun,” you mumbled, and as soon he left, you body slid down against the wall, and your facade crumbled, tears leaving your eyes.

___________________________

Before the dinner, you took three pain killers. Then, you waited restlessly, hoping that the pills might kick in. They did but your body felt strange and buzzy. You ignored it, a blossoming hope forming in your chest that you might be able to conceal your pain in the pills and the clothing. 

Benedict came knocking on your door around 7, a smile on his face. “Y/n!” he said, and you both hugged. A small smile had formed on your lips, when you actually managed to deal with the ache, now much weaker than previously.

You both then walked to Tom’s trailer, and then the three of you walked to a restaurant, not too far from your filming location.

“So, what have you two been up to in our little break?” Benedict asked once you all sat down, having ordered already. You glanced at Tom, hoping that he’d start. 

“Me and my brothers went back home to our mum and dad. Had a pretty regular Christmas. I gave the best gifts. I got some pretty cool socks,” Tom joked around. You and Benedict stifled a laugh. Then both Ben and Tom looked at you, and you realized it was your turn to tell them about what you’d been up to. 

“Oh, well, I.. I spent Christmas with my parents. My grandparents and cousins also came,” you were lying through your teeth. You avoided their eyes, sipping your soda. 

“Got any presents?” Benedict asked and you cursed at yourself internally for forgetting such a simple part of Christmas. And for making things awkward. 

“I got some clothes, some books. Pretty standard stuff,” you forced a smile, “What about you, Benadryl?”

Benedict rolled his eyes at your comment, making you and Tom fist-bump one another, giggling quietly as he told you about his own Christmas. The night was going alright, except for that rough start. Mostly you avoided any talk of your family, and you could feel yourself getting better, the further the conversation got from your family. Until-

“Y/n, what’s that on your hand?” 

Instinctively, you pulled your hand to your lap, straightening yourself up and gulping. You looked down, pretending to inspect it and then looked up. 

“It’s, uh, it’s dirt. Wow, I should really go wash my hands, haha-” Tom grabbed your hand from under the table, pulling it towards him. Your foundation was wearing off, a large purple patch stemming from your wrist and snaking up your hand revealing itself. 

You couldn’t breathe. Both Tom and Ben just stared at it. You tried to pull back but Tom was much stronger than you. Tears blurred your vision. 

“Y/n, what is this?” Tom whispered, and you felt his fingers rubbing the bruise gently. The tears finally fell, and now both men were looking at you. Benedict looked serious. It was an expression you’d never really seen on his features before, at least not outside of your acting. 

“I-I fell..” you mumbled, but you knew it was useless. 

“Y/n.. Who did this?” Benedict’s voice was low, gently setting a hand on your shoulder. You flinched. 

“I don’t know.. I don’t..” 

“Y/n!” Tom’s voice was raised. You immediately jumped away from them both, putting your arms in front of you in fear. Several people turned to look at you three. Shaking, you lowered your hands, and saw Tom and Ben staring at you worriedly. Tom had tears in his eyes. 

“Let’s talk about this back at the studio, okay?” Benedict, now afraid to touch you, spoke slowly and comfortingly. You nodded and then two men got up, standing on either side of you, grabbing one of your hands each. 

“Was it your dad?” Tom growled as you walked in the night, moon rising in the sky. 

“Yes..” you whispered, so low you wondered if they heard it, but they did. They both exchanged glances. Tom was furious. Benedict was too, but he was collected. Tom itched to ask you more and help you, console you right there on the street, but Benedict sent him a warning look not to. 

You walked back to the studio in silence. The three of you entered your trailer and you quietly wished you had predicted something like this would happen, because the bottle of strong pain killers was still out and open on your kitchen table. 

Benedict spotted them immediately and grabbed them. His eyes narrowed as he read the bottle description. Then he looked at you and then it again. Tom watched helplessly, holding your shoulders gently. 

“How many more are there? Bruises.” Ben was clearly angry. He was losing his cool, hands shaking as he grabbed your hand to pull up your sleeve. You tried to move his hand away, but he slid the sleeve up to your elbow and just stared at the blue, yellow and purple that littered your arm. Tom was frozen beside you. 

Ben slid up your other sleeve, breathing speeding up as he saw more, and then he tugged at the collar of your turtleneck, exposing the jarring and ugly sight of a red handprint. He pulled away suddenly, walking away from you. 

“Fuck!” he yelled, hitting the wall of the trailer. He hung his head low. You jumped and turned around, but Tom simply embraced you, and then sat you both down on the floor. You hid your face in his neck, sobbing again. Tom’s hands slowly rubbed your back. 

“Okay..” said Benedict after a while. You could hear that he’d calmed down. Ben angrily wiped a few tears from his face, turning to you and Tom on the floor. Tom was simply frowning now. He never wanted to let you go. He never wanted any harm to come to you. 

“I’m gonna call the police and get your dad arrested,” he said, and you heard his footsteps, as he wondered what to do next. 

“No!” you exclaimed, scrambling to your feet away from Tom. Both men looked at you in confusion. “No! You can’t do that, he’s- he’s just trying to get better. If I wait a little longer, he’s going to get better.” 

“Y/n..” Benedict whispered sadly and you ran to him hoping to stop him. “You can’t wait for him. You’re putting yourself in danger..” you shook your head, but Ben grabbed your shoulders and looked into your eyes, “he’s a grown man, Y/n. He doesn’t deserve pity or patience. Not after doing this. Nothing excuses this. Nothing.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, lip quivering, but still you nodded. 

“Can your mother take care of you?” Ben asked, piercing blue eyes still staring into your soul. There was no point in lying anymore, you knew. 

“No.” 

“Alright, then you’ll stay with me.” Ben declared, “You’ll stay with me until we can find someone from your family who can take care of you.” You looked up at him with shining eyes. Despite the uncomfortable situation you found yourself in, a genuine smile broke out on your face. 

You hugged him, thanking him breathlessly. Ben and Tom made eye contact, and smiled gently at each other. Tom had cried silently at your interaction. The thought that someone would hurt someone he loved so dearly shattered his heart completely. 

“Now,” Benedict said finally, “we need to drive you to the hospital.” 

You agreed and while Tom drove, Ben was in the backseat on the phone with the police department. You just watched the beautiful neon lights shining in the pitch black night, snow illuminating the ground. People still littered the streets. 

You knew it now. Your father didn’t deserve your waiting, and though it would take very long to finally live with and truly understand, it was worth it to start the fight. You truly owed it to the two jerks you worked with. What would you even do with out them?

[subjecta5newtella]

you know that trope where person a is having a really hard time and person b spends time with them to calm them down at night and they are about to leave so person a can get some sleep but person a grabs their hand and asks them to stay. you know that trope. but it’s nalby in the glade

this was supposed to be like. 200 words. the all-consuming love for pre-thomas glade dynamics hit me and now it's 2.3k. god help me.

Alby tries to tell himself it’s just habit that brings him to the Map Room at the same time every day, not some kind of ritual or anything. Surely it’s normal to hate a break in routine, to feel just a little off-balance when something requires his attention and he doesn’t arrive in time to walk to dinner with the Runners.

All the Runners. Definitely not one particular Runner. The second-in-command shouldn’t be playing favorites.

He’s been late the last couple days, tasked with shuttling the new Greenie around when Nick needs to attend to other things, but the kid has attached himself to a group of the Builders to the point where Alby feels like he can leave him for a while (and thank god for that, honestly, because he’s one of the ones that talks all the time when he’s nervous).

He watches the Runners file out of the Map Room one by one, but Minho comes out last and locks the door and there’s still one missing.

“Where’s—“ Alby starts, but Minho cuts him off before he can even get the question out.

“Finished his map early and headed off. He’s been weird all day.”

“Why?”

Minho shrugs. “Fuck if I know, dude. You know how hard it is to get answers out of that guy when he doesn't want to talk? Might work for you, though.”

There are a hell of a lot of implications there, a lot of observations he’s made that Alby hadn’t noticed him making, but Minho isn’t in charge of the Runners for no reason. Talking to him is easier once you remember that, as much as he sometimes makes it hard.

“I’ll try,” Alby says, and sets off to find Newt.

Newt’s not in the first place he looks, which is probably good because that particular spot behind the Homestead is where Alby had found the wreckage of him one time in the early days, a time bad enough that they just don’t speak of it. He’s not in the gardens either, and as Alby treks back across the Glade to head towards the trees, he curses Newt’s tendency to vanish when he’s upset. It could be worse; he’s not picking fights or breaking shit or any of the other, more destructive coping mechanisms Alby’s seen from some of the Gladers, but since the anxiety doesn’t go away until he finds Newt, he wishes Newt was a little less opposed to being found.

Alby finally finds him just past the area where most of the Gladers sleep, half in the woods but not quite. He’s brought his sleeping bag with him as well, as though he expects to stay there until morning, as though he thinks his wouldn’t be one of the most visible absences possible for the rest of the evening. He’s staring up at the trees, flat on his back and face still a little red, and when Alby comes to sit next to him he turns his head and pushes himself up into a sitting position, but doesn’t say anything.

Newt’s an odd creature sometimes. Alby knows him better than anyone else, but there are still times when he’s not sure if the best thing to do is get him to talk or leave him alone. Maybe this time the right thing to do is not to talk, but with every second the quiet feels more and more like a weight pressing down, and Alby breaks.

“What’s going on?”

Newt won’t look at him for a moment, just at his own hands, but then he seems to come to some kind of decision and makes eye contact. “I don’t think there’s a way out of here,” he says, and then everything spills out of him like bile or blood. “I think Minho thinks the same thing, he just doesn’t want to admit it. And that feels bad all the time but it feels worse when there’s a new Greenie, because it’s bad enough that there’s another kid stuck here with us, but then we’re supposed to give them hope. They find out about the Runners and they get told we’re looking for a way out, and they start to think it’s actually possible.”

And that…. well. Alby doesn’t begin to know what to say to that. “Are you sure it’s not?”

“I mean, no, I can’t say with absolute certainty or anything, but... it just repeats. I think we’ve found everything we’re gonna find.”

Alby doesn’t really do optimism—he’s not as much of a pessimist as Newt is sometimes, more of a realist if anything—but he can’t let that linger, can’t even look directly at it for too long.

“So you don’t know for sure. Which means it might all be fine, and maybe tomorrow one of you will figure out something new, and we’ll all get out of here.”

“It’s not that bloody simple,” Newt snaps, and Alby bites back a retort, because he’s fucking trying, okay?

Instead he just says, “I know. Just... trying to help.”

Newt sighs. “Yeah, sorry. That wasn’t fair. Been a bad day, that’s all. Bad couple days.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You weren’t the one who put us here. Unless I’m missing something, in which case you might want to admit to it now while I’m too tired to kill you.” And sure, it’s almost all a joke, but Alby can’t help but feel like it’s a little bit true. For all that Newt is kind, for as much as he cares about every single person in the Glade, or maybe because of all those things, he has a hatred for the Creators like nothing else Alby’s ever seen from him.

Still, he’s pretty sure he’s safe from that kind of threat, or at least as safe as someone with no recollection of their past can be, so he says, “Not as far as I know.”

Newt’s quiet for a minute, and then he says, “What if it was one of us?”

“Why would we put ourselves here if it was?”

Newt shrugs. “I guess.”

He falls silent after that, and this time Alby lets him stay that way, at least for a while. Eventually, though, he checks his watch and realizes they can’t wait any longer if they want to eat, and starving isn’t exactly going to do Newt’s mood any good.

“Alright, you need to eat before dinner’s over. And shower, and then you can continue staring at nothing if you really want.”

“That genius for planning is why you’re second-in-command, huh?” Newt says with an asymmetrical smile, and Alby says, “Sure,” because sometimes Nick’s justifications for it don’t make a lot of sense to him either.

He gets to his feet and turns to pull Newt up with him, and they head for dinner. Frypan gives them a look for being late, and Minho spares a glance, eyes flicking from Newt to Alby before he nods just a little, but no one says anything about the way they arrive after everyone and as a matched set. They’ve all just got enough of their own problems, maybe. A lot of eyes still on the Greenie, too.

After dinner and showers and Alby spending the whole walk back fighting the urge to tuck the chunk of hair that’s fallen out of Newt’s mess of a bun back into place, they end up in the same spot, mostly hidden from where the rest of the Gladers are setting up for the night.

This time, Alby chooses the second option. He waits to see if Newt will talk, and when he doesn’t, he leaves the silence alone. It’s not a comfortable emptiness, not when everything Newt had said earlier still lingers, but pushing any further seems like it might hurt more than mend.

That’s one possible answer, at least. Another is that he’s scared to lean too hard on whatever it is between them for fear that it might break. A third is that he’s afraid of all the things that Newt might say. So he waits, and he hopes that his presence is any kind of reassurance.

Eventually, though, night starts to set in and he can’t justify keeping Newt awake any longer. He goes to stand up, but Newt’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist and good god, Alby sometimes forgets how fast he can move.

“Don’t leave.” Newt says, and Alby shakes his head.

“You should get some rest. Don’t want you running the Maze tired tomorrow.”

Newt says, “You being here doesn’t prevent me from resting,” which is true, sure, but not something Alby had been ready to assume. You don’t set up for the night in the middle of the woods if you want company, at least not in his own experience of things, but if Newt wants him to stay, what other choice can he make?

“Can I at least go get my own sleeping bag?”

Newt’s fingers uncurl in response, and Alby gently tugs his wrist away, going to collect his things. On the way back he runs into Nick, making the rounds before bed, which is a thing Alby usually accompanies him on except that he’s been a little distracted.

Nick’s gaze drops to the sleeping bag and pillow in Alby’s arms, and Alby mentally curses the sense of order that had led him to sleep in the same place since the beginning, meaning that now any kind of rearrangement looks unusual.

“Is everything okay?” Nick asks, brow furrowed.

Alby doesn’t lie to Nick. He doesn’t lie in general, really, but especially not to Nick because the Glade doesn’t function if communication between them breaks down. But this... he’s not ready to tell Nick what Newt suspects. It’s still only a suspicion, one that could easily be proved wrong, and he’s not ready to damage morale that badly without proof.

So he lies, or at least omits part of the truth. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Newt’s just in a mood, and I’m keeping an eye on him to make sure he’s not gonna be out of it in the Maze tomorrow.” There’s no point in trying to say it like he’d do this for any other Runner, not with the way he and Newt have been bound since the early days by something still unvoiced, but he can still pretend at least a little.

Nick knows there’s no truth to that last part at least, but Alby knows how much time he spends picking his battles, so he’s not surprised when Nick just nods. “Sounds good. Don’t want him getting injured.”

“Yeah. Sorry for ditching nighttime rounds.”

“It’s fine. You might have to take the Greenie tomorrow if the supply meeting goes over, so we’ll call it even.”

It’s an empty threat, given that Alby’s most useful skills as a leader lie in allotment and record-keeping, but he takes the way out Nick’s offering him. “Fine.”

Nick nods. “Alright, go ahead. Deal with whatever you’re dealing with.”

“Thanks,” Alby says, and heads back to the space in the trees.

Newt looks up when he approaches, propping himself up on his elbows. He mostly just looks tired now, which is an improvement at least, even if it doesn’t do wonders for Alby’s confidence in sending him out into the Maze in the morning. “Forgot you’re supposed to have a job to do. Wouldn’t have stolen you from Nick if I remembered.”

Alby spreads out his sleeping bag, laying down on top of it. It’s too warm in the Glade to sleep inside it, which kind of feels like an oversight on someone’s part. “I ran into him on the way back, it’s fine. He’s threatening to make me take over with the Greenie if the meeting tomorrow runs long, but it’s probably an empty threat. Hopefully.”

Newt worms his way close enough to bump Alby with a shoulder. “Be nice to the new kid, Albert.”

“I’m trying, he just talks so much.”

“Can’t be worse than Kuo.”

Alby snorts. “You haven’t met him.”

“I met him the first full day he was here!”

“For three minutes! And it’s not like he even asks a ton of questions, I can either answer those or deflect fine, but he’ll just say things and I have no idea how I’m supposed to react to them.”

“I’m sure he’s just scared.”

“Yeah, I know. I think he’s gonna get absorbed into the Builders soon enough anyway, he’s already halfway there.”

“That helps.”

“Yeah. I keep hoping that Nick will get that I’m shit at this, but I guess sometimes there aren’t other options.”

Newt shrugs. “You’re good at plenty of other things, and you haven’t killed a Greenie yet.”

“I don’t think I like ‘yet’ in that sentence.”

“I’m confident in your ability to not kill a Greenie. Better?”

“Yeah, sure.” Alby readjusts his pillow, doing his best not to acknowledge the root under his head because proximity takes priority over comfort right now. “Sorry. Didn’t come back just to complain.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Took my mind off everything a little.”

“Are you gonna be okay tomorrow?” Alby asks, knowing as he does that it’s probably only going to make Newt mad, but he can’t just not ask.

Sure enough, there’s a bite to it when Newt says, “I’ll be fine,” that hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Don’t get pissed off at me for caring about you. It’s just dangerous out there, and—“

“Yeah, I have figured that out, actually. I can take care of myself.”

“I never said you couldn’t, don’t start acting like I did.”

“No, you just—“ Newt stops himself and sighs, looking away. “I’m sorry. I’m… yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Alby reaches out and interweaves his fingers with Newt’s, half-expecting him to pull away and ready to let go if he does. He doesn’t.

When he wakes before dawn with Newt’s face pressed into his shoulder, Alby thinks he could almost be happy staying in the Glade like this, but only almost. One of them has to believe they’ll get out of here, and if that means he has to play at optimism for a while, it’s one more role he’ll do his best to handle.

[everybodyscupoftea]

under the mistletoe

ole miss rafe x reader

the beginning of your relationship with some misunderstandings along the way (ft. the first kiss)

yes i will continue to use the same gif of this man :)

(warnings: cursing, drinking, light editing)

Rafe texted you for the first time about a date the weekend after the Egg Bowl. You weren’t overly enthused at the prospect, he’d been a huge dick, but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by him.

Dinner and a movie.

It wasn’t even a question. It was a demand, like he knew you’d say yes so there was no point in actually asking. To be fair you did plan on saying yes, but he didn’t need to know that. So, after 30 minutes, you had to make him sweat it out, you responded.

First of all, you should ask. Demanding is not the way to get a date. Second of all, if you think I’m voluntarily stepping foot in Oxford for a boy, you’re sorely mistaken.

Rafe responded almost immediately which made you feel a bit vindicated.

You’re right. I’m sorry. Meet in Jackson?

Which you could absolutely do. The two of you made plans for the following weekend to meet at the Cultivation Food Hall, and then you wanted to check out a science museum they had there. It was the inner vet major in you. And shockingly, Rafe agreed without much of a fight.

Of course it was almost too much to ask. What more could you expect from an Oxford frat douche bag, really there was no one to blame but yourself. The science museum was maybe a little bit childish, but you thoroughly enjoyed it while Rafe made it very clear he was bored.

You weren’t entirely sure what his major was, but clearly it wasn’t very sciency. There were easy hikes which cheered him up a bit, so you were glad for that, but when the two of you got in your cars to go your separate ways, you expected that to be the end.

It wasn’t, and he texted you again.

Did you make it back okay?

And when you didn’t answer, ready to leave him on read despite the warm feeling in your chest, he texted again.

I hope you had fun, I did. Can I see you again?

You walked over to your roommate’s room and dropped onto her bed with a loud, dramatic groan. She looked up from her desk where she was reading for one of her classes with an amused look, “Something wrong?”

“Rafe texted me,” you told her. She’d heard all about the date, you called her on the drive home so she had Thai takeout waiting for you when you got there, so she understood for the most part.

“And? Leave him on read if he made you that miserable today that you had to eat your weight in Thai food.” 

“But, part of me wants to text him back. Like a big part of me. I don’t- explain to me.” 

She snorted, “You’ve always liked toxic men.” 

Your jaw dropped, but you couldn’t really argue with her there. There was nothing but the truth in her words, “Um, you didn’t have to come for me like that.”

“You needed honesty. I know you’re going to text him back, so what do you plan on saying?” 

“What should I say?”

“I don’t know. I barely met him. Have your texts been super flirty?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want them to be?”

And that you had to think about. Did you really want to pursue things with this guy when you were both about to graduate in a semester. 

“Maybe, I don’t know. I mean it might not go anywhere or get, like, super serious.”

She made a face, “But is that the guy you really want to pass the time with? Like you could definitely meet a nice boy here.” 

You scoffed, “I’ve been here for three and a half years and haven’t managed that. May as well go for a hotty toddy.” 

She sighed and gave you an amused look, “I’m a little embarrassed for you. This should be against everything you stand for.”

“It is,” you told her, slightly ashamed, “but he’s also cute.” 

“Like I said, toxic men as long as they come in a pretty package.”

So, after a few hours you texted him back.

Yeah I made it, thanks. I’d like that. Maybe we can catch that movie. But no way in hell I’m going to Oxford.

His response was a little delayed, which you didn’t expect one back that night anyway, you sent it late. But just as you were almost asleep, your phone buzzed.

Fair enough. But don’t expect me to show up in Starkville anyway

-

Some people in your major were throwing a Christmas party a week before Christmas, and you really were debating going. Most of them had significant others and you knew it would be pretty painful being one of the only singles drinking alone.

“So bring Rafe,” your roommate suggested when you were yet again laying on her bed to complain.

You sat up fast, head spinning a bit, “I can’t just ask him. We haven’t even been seeing each other that long. Like he hasn’t even kissed me or anything. No relationship definition at all.” 

She joined you on the bed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Okay, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but you actually really like this guy, right?” 

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I’m such a hypocrite, but I really do.”

“Then ask him. You said the dates were getting better with each one. You’ve seen him every weekend for a month and some weeknights since you don’t have Friday classes.” 

“What if he says no,” you whispered, “I think that’s why I’m most worried. It’ll really really hurt if he says no.”

She bit her lip, thinking, “Okay, if he asked you to be his date at some event in Oxford, would you go?”

You answered without hesitation, “I would.” 

“Then ask. If he says no, I’ll go as your date and we’ll drink and have fun. But all you can assume is that he likes you as much as you like him, and he’ll say yes.” 

“You’re right,” you admitted, standing from her bed, resolved, “I’m going to ask him.” 

Hey Cameron, got a minute?

He answered quickly.

Sure, what’s up?

So you called him, and he answered on the second ring. Deep down you were very pleased about that.

“Hey,” he answered, “something wrong?”

“Not really, I just had a question for you.” 

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve done it over text so if he did reject you, it wouldn’t be where he could actually hear your response. But the reasoning you called is so that if you got a no it wouldn’t be in a text where you could reread and over analyze that night.

“Fire away,” he cut off your spiral.

You sighed, “Okay so a few people in my major that I’ve done group projects with before are throwing a Christmas party. We all get plus ones, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

He hummed, “What’s the date?”

“Um, I think December 18th. If you’re going home before then, that’s totally fine. I just wanted to ask.”

“You’re willing to bring a hotty toddy to a bulldog Christmas party,” he teased, “I’m honored.”

You snorted, “Unfortunately, I am. If you want to at least, please don’t feel pressured.”

“I don’t. And I’m not going home for Christmas. I haven’t since freshman year. The reason I asked was because some of the guys in my pledge class are having a get together of our own. We did Secret Santa and it’s on the 21st so I didn’t want to miss it.”

“Oh,” you paused, “so you’ll come with me?”

“Of course,” his voice was soft, “you sound surprised.”

Your cheeks heated up, “I mean, I was kind of expecting you to say no.”

Rafe went silent, you could almost hear the gears in his head spinning as he tried to come up with a response. You were about to ask if he was okay before he responded, “You know that I like spending time with you, right?”

You tried to play your anxiety off, “I mean, I’d hope so the amount of weekends we’ve spent together so far.” 

“Good. So then why do you think I’d say no?” 

“I don’t know,” you chewed on your lip, “I guess we just haven’t really talked about what this is and I wasn’t sure where you are or how you feel.”

He hummed, “Okay, I understand. I’m sorry for not communicating better.” 

“It’s okay, I should’ve done better too.”

“Well, now that we’re on the same page. Tell me exactly when the party is and I’ll be there.” 

You hesitated, “Do you want to come the night before and stay?”

His voice was warm, when he answered, “Absolutely.”

-

“Thank god,” your roommate had said when you told her, “now I can go home early.”

Her partner was from her hometown, and they didn’t get to see each other often. She’d come to visit a few times since you and your roommate had lived together, so you had at least met her before.

“Tell her I said hey. Do you need a ride to the airport?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I need to pick up dessert for the party anyway, so I’ll drive you to Jackson and go to Target there.”

The two of you woke up at 3 a.m. to get her to the airport by 5:30. She talked a little about her Christmas plans and then the two of you rode mostly in silence. It was kind of calming, despite being super tired.

Before she got out of the car, your roommate pulled something out of her backpack and held it out to you. You took it, frown on your face, “Is this mistletoe?” 

“It is. You said Rafe hadn’t kissed you yet, put this to use.”

You shook your head, huffing out a laugh, “I don’t know about that one.”

“He’ll be at the apartment all weekend, just hang it up in the kitchen or like in the hallway leading to your room.”

“It seems cheesy.”

“It is, but that’s what makes it fun,” she insisted.

Taking the mistletoe, you set it in the cupholder, “Fine. I’ll think about it.” 

She nodded, pleased enough, “Thank you.”

-

You didn’t hang the mistletoe up, but to be fair you got totally distracted by stress cleaning and baking the desserts for the party you decided to make from scratch instead of buying store bought.

Rafe wasn’t supposed to show up until that night, but there was a knock at your apartment door at 2:30, startling you. He was smiling sheepishly on the other side, “I know I’m early, but I didn’t see any point in waiting longer.”

Grinning, you stepped aside to let him in. He looked around, taking in the decorations you and your roommate set up the day after Thanksgiving. You pointed toward the hallway your room was down, “If you want to set your stuff down, my room is at the end of that hall.” 

“Thanks,” he answered, bending down to kiss you on the cheeks, something he’d been doing since date three.

Walking back to the kitchen you immediately picked the stress baking back up where you’d left it to answer the door. Rafe was gone for a while, using the bathroom you assumed, and when he came back, he was changed, and you couldn’t help but stare.

“What?” he asked, a weird look on his face.

“Nothing, I’ve just never seen you out of like jeans or slacks.” 

He glanced down at himself, sweatshirt with his frat letters on them and grey sweatpants, before looking up at you, “I figured since we were staying in I could get comfy.” 

“Yeah definitely,” you reassured, “I like it, just was surprised, that’s all.”

“You like it, huh?” he teased and stepped fully into the kitchen, wrapping one arm around your shoulders, “That’s noted.”

-

Rafe did dress back up for the party, which you were expecting. Jeans and a nice sweater. You smiled at him and tugged gently at the sweater, “This is cute.”

“Bought it just for the party. It’s even maroon, see?” 

“I do see. Didn’t know if it was a coincidence or not.”

“Nope, fully intentional.” 

It felt like a good time to kiss him, mistletoe or not, but before you got up the courage, he was stepping away to grab one of the desserts off the counter. You sighed internally and grabbed the other with the hand not holding your keys.

“Alright, I’m parked in the back lot, opposite direction of visitor parking.”

“Cool, after you.”

Sitting in the car, you plugged your phone into the aux. Rafe buckled up and got comfy in the passenger’s seat. You smiled at him, it felt natural for him to be invading your space the way he was. But he was giving you a bit of a complex with the whole not interested in kissing thing.

He glanced down at the cupholder and did a double take. You cursed yourself for forgetting to take the mistletoe out of your car when he asked, “Is that mistletoe.”

“Um, yep.”

“Why do you have it?”

“I meant to give it to my roommate when she flew out, but it was so early it totally slipped my mind,” you lied smoothly.

Rafe nodded, totally believing it, and you sighed. Maybe you should bring it in, hang it up when he’s in the shower or something. But deep down you knew you wouldn’t. You didn’t want Rafe to kiss you out of obligation for some stupid tradition. You wanted him to mean it.

The drive went by quickly, the boy hosting lived at an apartment complex just up the road, and you found parking easily, recognizing a few cars in the visitors' spaces meaning you weren’t the first ones to show up. 

Rafe got out and took in all the MSU merch hanging from balconies and on cars with a grimace, “Y’all have almost too much spirit.”

“We aren’t snobby enough to think it’s tacky and above us,” you responded, taking a clear shot at Ole Miss.

“Fair enough. It’s just a lot of talk for a school who’s so bad at sports.” 

Your jaw dropped, “I know an Ole Miss football fan isn’t speaking right now. Are you aboard the Lane Train?” you asked, mockingly.

Rafe rolled his eyes and shook his head, reaching down to ruffle your hair playfully, “With that record? Absolutely not.”

“And not because  he’s a piece of shit?”

“Well, that too.”

He grabbed both containers in one hand and your hand in the other, lacing your fingers together as you led the two of you to the right building. His palms were sweating a little, and you squeezed gently, “All good?”

“A bit nervous, just don’t want to look stupid in front of your friends.”

“Why would you,” you were confused, unsure how he’d reached that conclusion.

“I mean, you’re all like STEM majors, right?”

“Yeah?”

“And I am not.”

There was so much to unpack there, so you tried to go for a joke, “I mean we aren’t going to just talk about like anatomy and biology all night, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He snorted, “Maybe a little. I just feel out of my depth.”

“I promise, it’s going to be okay. You’re really smart too, just in a different way. But we aren’t really here to show off our intelligence. It’s more to drink and eat and bitch about our professors.”

“See, that’s super specific,” he complained.

“Well, yeah, I guess. But most of us are dating out of our majors, just hop on the bandwagon like they do and you’ll win ‘em over in no time.”

By the time you’d finished reassuring him, the two of you had arrived at his door. You squeezed one last time and he smiled, seeming more at ease. Reaching up to knock, it swung open before you could, a guy named Justin grinning widely, “Welcome welcome to the annual Bitchmas Party.”

Rafe snorted and let you step in first. Justin set his drink down on the table by the door and held his hands out, I’ll take your coats and your keys please.”

Handing them over, he escorted you through the entranceway to the living room, stopping you right as the tile changed to carpet. You squinted at him, “What?”

Wordlessly, he pointed up and you saw mistletoe, your blood running cold. Rafe made a noise and bent down to kiss your cheek, close to the corner of your mouth but not quite.

“Boo,” Justin jeered, “but close enough, come on through.”

Your stomach sank. Again. And Rafe leaned down, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I mean, you could’ve kissed me.” Your words came out a lot sharper than you intended, but before Rafe could question you, Ashton was stepping in to ask the two of you about drinks. Rafe asked for a soda and you got spiked eggnog. May as well to sort through the mess of feelings in your stomach.

Someone spread out the food and everyone lined up to get plates before settling in the assortment of chairs all over the room. You sat on the couch and Rafe sat on the floor, leaned back next to your legs. Justin gave him a weird look and offered a chair, but Rafe declined, saying he was fine.

At some point, he wrapped an arm around your closest leg and leaned his head on your thigh, nodding along to the conversation. You brushed your hand through his hair that you’d convinced him to leave ungelled, and complained about your animal sciences professor who’d made the tests way harder than necessary and not offered bonus opportunities.

Rafe actually interrupted, “Okay wait, she put questions on information not taught in class and not readily available in your textbook?”

“Correct.”

“So how were you supposed to know you were going to be tested on it.”

“You weren’t,” Justin answered him, drily, “That was her whole point. Be prepared for anything.”

“She should’ve just given us papers on those topics.”

“Agreed,” a girl named Emily chipped in, “I would’ve so much preferred that than literally guessing on a test.”

Rafe made a face, “I mean, for my history courses we were expected to do the readings and then like additional research, but she told us the topics beforehand so we’d know what to research.”

Ashton’s girlfriend leaned forward at his words, “You’re a history major?”

“Yeah,” Rafe answered, his grip on your leg tightening.

“Me too,” she looked excited, “what do you want to do?”

He leaned forward eagerly, “I want to teach, European if possible. I haven’t decided if I want to do like Advanced Placement courses in high school or just go get a masters and be a professor. What do you want to do?”

“I want to do research so I’ll definitely be going after a PhD. But I figure at least that way, I’ll be doing something while Ash is in vet school.”

Rafe looked around, “Is everyone here going to vet school?”

Mostly everyone in your group was, so they all nodded, including you. Justin spoke up, “Buncha nerds in this bunch. We all grouped together pretty much since day one since we all had the same plans. We’ve lost a few along the way.”

“Rest in peace Jasmine and Brady,” you added, solemnly.

“Do you all want to stay here?” Rafe asked, clearly curious about everyone’s plans.

A few people around the group nodded, but some shook their heads. Rafe hummed, taking in the information before looking over his shoulder at you. You nodded, “Yeah, I like MSU’s vet school, I want to stay.”

He nodded thoughtfully, “Good to know.”

Justin gave you a weird look and you shrugged, just as confused.

-

Four cups of eggnog later, the party was winding down, and you were happily tipsy. Rafe, still sober, had an arm around your waist to keep you steady. He led you toward the door, passing under the mistletoe again without stopping and you sighed.

Glancing down at you, he made a face, “Clearly something is on your mind.”

“Clearly,” you muttered back sarcastically. He opened the passenger door for you to climb in and you asked, “You know how to get back?”

“It’s just up the road, I don’t think it’s that hard.”

You rolled your eyes, “Just a question, no need to get so offended.”

The ride back was in uncomfortable silence, so unlike the drive there that you were squirming in the passenger seat. Rafe glanced over at a red light, “Are you about to puke?”

Offended, you answered, “No, I can handle my fucking alcohol.”

“Okay,” he muttered, “no need to get defensive.”

You hated how weird it felt between the two of you, but you weren’t sure how to fix it. Unless he just magically decided you were kissable, but you didn’t foresee that happening in the near future, so instead, you pouted.

Rafe parked and turned the car off but stayed seated, so you did too, feeling uneasy. He looked over at you, “What’s up. Why have you been so weird tonight?”

“I haven’t.”

“You have. And I think it actually started yesterday when I got here. Is it just me being in your space? Like am I invading it or something? I can go home tonight if I need to.”

Maybe you weren’t in the ideal state to have this conversation, but you also figured this was probably the state you were most likely to let the honest truth slip.

“No. The problem is you aren’t taking up enough space.”

Which in hindsight didn’t make much sense, you couldn’t blame him for the confused, “What does that mean?”

“It means that you won’t kiss me and I’m not sure why.”

“I-” and for once, for once in your whole goddamn relationship (or whatever you were calling it) Rafe was speechless, “I thought you didn’t want me to.”

Then it was your turn to be shocked, “What? When did I say that?”

“On our first date, you talked about only kissing when it got serious.”

“Yes.”

“And when I brought up the Christmas party in Oxford, you didn’t ask about a plus one. Hell, you still won’t come to Oxford at all.”

“How was I supposed to know I’m supposed to invite myself to a Christmas party with the boys? And sure, I was opposed to Oxford at first, but I think we’ve been seeing each other long enough for me to actually make that trip,” you answered incredulously, startled at all the assumptions he’d jumped to.

He squinted, “You never said.”

“You never said,” you fired back, “I invited you to a party with my friends, I thought that would be hint enough that I think this is serious.”

“I need it outright said,” he mumbled.

“Clearly.”

“Hey,” he protested, “it’s not just me. In fact, you never brought it up either.”

“Okay, Cameron, to be fair, you never brought up anything about that party other than that it was Secret Santa for some guys in your pledge class. Not only do I not want to be the only girl there, I especially don’t want to be an MSU girl there with a bunch of drunk Ole Miss frat boys.” 

Rafe snorted, “Fair, that’s totally fair. So, I guess I should ask, do you want to come? There will be girlfriends and boyfriends. Secret Santa is just a small part.”

“Sure, I need to come see your apartment anyway, I should know what I’m getting into.”

He laughed loudly, “I’m not sure if I’m okay with that.”

You poked him teasingly, “Hey, you can’t take it back now, buddy.”

“I’d never.”

And with that, he got out of the car. You felt significantly better as he jogged around to grab the door for you. His arm went around your shoulders immediately, and you weren’t sure if it was an attempt to keep you standing straight or not.

“I’m not that drunk,” you told him.

He raised his eyebrows, “Okay four cups. I could smell the booze in that eggnog, it was strong.”

“Well you hurt my feelings, what else was I supposed to do besides drink?”

Rafe snorted, “Talk to me.”

“In front of everyone? At a party?”

“Bathroom.”

“So Justin could think we were hooking up in his bathroom.”

He squinted at you a few seconds, “Okay so it wasn’t the most conducive situation for a serious talk.” 

“Mhmm.” 

The two of you climbed the stairs to your third floor apartment. Rafe behind you so you wouldn’t fall and hurt yourself. He was a little offended when you muttered that you’d just take him down with you, “I could definitely catch you.” 

“Okay buddy,” you patted his shoulder. 

He made you drink four glasses of water in the kitchen and by the time the two of you were walking to the bathroom to get ready for bed, you were significantly sobered up. You tried to get to the sink first and Rafe playfully hip checked you out of the way to get his toothbrush.

“Nooo,” you complained, “my skincare routine is so much longer than yours, you can wait.”

“Guests first,” he argued, successfully keeping you away from the sink.

You gave up pushing against him to pout, “At least pass me my makeup remover.”

“Fine,” he grabbed the bottle from the sink and passed it over, “I guess you can at least start.” 

“Oh thanks for your permission,” you responded sarcastically.

The next five minutes of him washing his face and getting ready, you kept trying to nudge him out of the way, but he wasn’t budging. Finally, you dug your fingers into his side and he yelped, twisting away enough for you to get some space in front of the mirror.

Your eyes lit up, “Are you ticklish?”

“No,” he denied, just a little too fast.

“Liar.”

You reached out to him again and he grabbed your hand pulling you into his chest. So caught off guard, you didn’t register him tilting your chin up or lowering his head to kiss you. And then his lips were on yours for the first time, and you made a noise, leaning into it.

He smiled and you could feel his heart racing where your hand was pressed against his chest. In the proximity, you couldn’t help but dig your fingers into his side again. He jerked away, joking glare on his face, “Watch it, mamas. I’ll make you pay for it.”

“Promise?” you teased, finally catching him off guard enough to get mirror space.

Rafe stepped over to sit on the closed toilet lid to wait his turn again and laughed. You turned to look at him, mid-washing your face, and gave him a questioning look.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the squashed mistletoe, “Guess I don’t need this.”

“You were going to use the mistletoe to kiss me?”

“I figured if your roommate wasn’t going to use it, we could.”

“Oh I lied,” you admitted, turning back to rinse your face.

“What?” he asked while you were drying.

You nodded, “She gave it to me to get you to kiss me.”

“Oh,” he perked up, “well I guess it kinda worked. Make sure to thank her for me.”

“No, absolutely not,” you insisted, “she does not need that ego boost.”

He laughed, holding his hands up, “Fine, we’ll do it your way.”

“As we should always.”

He laughed again and hip checked you over toward the wall so he could get back closer to the sink. You couldn’t help but think to yourself that you could get used to this.

~

day 3 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: mistletoe

[onlysarah235678]

 A Little Bit Part 17

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: Hi there! I hope everyone has survived this week of storms and everything else. ❤️. Angst in the beginning of this one. I’m wrapping things up but we still have some loose ends to tie up….LOOK AT THIS GIF. 😍

Warnings: angst, mentions of domestic abuse, mention of attempted sexual assault (I did the thing with the *** again). 

You and Billie take Milo on a longer walk than you usually would at this time of day. It was almost dark, so there weren’t many people around making the walk a quiet one. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were dragging your feet a little to buy yourself some time. You intend on keeping your promise to Billie by telling her what was bothering you, but you keep doubting your decision.

Billie had told you that she didn’t care about your baggage. At the very least, she’d said that it wouldn’t change her feelings for you. Still, you hate to bring the issue up again because it seems like it’s been forever since you two just had a conversation about something nice, casual, and not stressful. You can’t remember the last time you two went out on a date, and you hate how tense and stressful everything is between you.  

Maybe it was just your insecurities, but you sigh as you and Billie come up on the end of the neighborhood. You’re probably going to turn around soon, if Milo would stop peeing.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

You feel some of your anxiety melt away at that familiar term of endearment, and you turn toward Billie with a small smile. You squeeze her hand before shaking your head in refusal. You don’t really want to talk about this now because you are almost certain you’ll be crying for at least some of this conversation. Still, you don’t want to leave Billie hanging so you tell her the truth. At least as much of it as you’re willing to at the moment.

“I’m just thinking about everything that’s happened in the past few months. How much has changed.”

Billie doesn’t respond immediately. She watches how you turn back around, heading for home, with a faraway look. It seems more contemplative than anything else, but Billie can’t figure out what you’re trying to say.

“Good and bad?”

You smile as Milo leads the three of you back to Billie’s. He’s eager for his treat because he picks up the pace a little, but you just hold his leash tighter so he doesn’t drag you. You’re not really in the mood for that tonight.

“Yes, luckily more good than bad recently.”

You shoot Billie a charming smile that she practically melts at. She pulls you towards her so you’re close enough to kiss, and you laugh as you practically fall into the medium.

You mean what you say. That more good things have happened to you than bad. Unfortunately, the bad is starting to catch up with you due to your failure to deal with anything that really bothers you. You shut it out and you’re learning quickly that this is not a good thing. You know you need to work on this, but you’re just not sure how. How do you come to terms with things that are over and done with? Things that you hate to talk about?

Billie waits patiently as you find your next words. You look to Milo with a smile.  He’s looking back at you and Billie occasionally, as if making sure that you’re still there. You are once again reminded of how much your dog means to you, and how much he’s helped you these past few months.

“Things just started stacking up, you know? I didn’t deal with how my ex made me feel, and then my dad’s death, and now with this asshole I don’t even really know? It just seems like at this point it’s all too overwhelming. That I’m better off ignoring it.”

You can feel Billie about to respond to this, so you beat her to it with a sigh of defeat.

“I know I'm not, Billie. I just. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

You wait for what feels like years as Billie considers what you’re saying. She can’t really pretend like she knows how you feel, or what your logic is for not dealing with your problems. Having so many traumatic things happen in such rapid succession can leave anyone a little dazed and unsure of how to proceed. All she knows is what you told her, so Billie tries not to assume anything as she finally shoots you a smile.

You don’t notice because you’re too busy looking around for something. Billie doesn’t realize this until you fail to respond, or even acknowledge what she’s said after a few seconds.

“Well, what is it that makes you want to deal with it now?”

You’re too busy staring at a car that looks familiar to realize that Billie’s responded. You walk past the car that you swear was about a block away from Billie’s when you left before you look back to the medium. You see that she’s looking at you expectantly, and suddenly it clicks that you’ve missed something. You apologize before looking back over your shoulder with a frown.

“Sorry, I just—does that car look familiar to you? I feel like I’ve seen it multiple times on this walk already.”

You know it’s possible that there is more than one gold SUV in this neighborhood, but you can’t help but be a little paranoid. Billie frowns too as she looks to the car that they just passed. She honestly hadn’t been paying much attention to anything other than you and Milo. Mostly what you said and what she could sense from you. She shakes her head before turning back to you, and telling you the truth.

“Sorry, Y/N. I haven’t really been paying attention.”

You just nod at this before you decide that you’re just being paranoid. You continue down the street and you’re almost to Billie’s before you realize that you hadn’t asked what Billie had said at all.

“Wait, what were you saying earlier? I got distracted by potential stalkers.”

Billie just smiles at you as she shakes her head and turns to look at the dog that is coming your way. She watches as you hold Milo’s leash tighter and steer him in the other direction as he spots the dog and immediately starts tugging.

“Milo, knock it off.”

He listens, sort of, and you only have to move him to your other side, in between you and Billie for him to calm down.

“It’s okay. We can talk about it when we get back.”

You take this as an excuse to put it off again, so you simply nod before allowing your mind to wander.

Before you know it, you’re back at Billie’s and you’re taking care of Milo while Billie checks on the cats. It’s only 8 pm but you’re exhausted and could sleep now. You leave Milo in the living room as you head upstairs to take a shower. You go check on Billie first and you smile as you peek your head into the laundry room to see her sitting next to the kittens. As usual Bit barely acknowledges your presence.

“Hey, I’m going to shower, do you need anything?”

Billie just smiles at you and shakes her head. You’re not surprised to see that she’s holding Mickey and you smile at the adorable sight before leaving with a sigh. You can feel your headache coming back just at the thought of the conversation you started on the walk. You could just drop it and worry about it tomorrow, but you wanted to be honest. You also wanted someone to tell you that you were being ridiculous.

As you take off your clothes, find a towel and turn on the shower you think about how irrational you’re being. You have only run into Doug maybe half a dozen times since you moved to LA. You realized that you both like to go on early morning walks, in your case with Milo, every day and you at least saw each other maybe every other week. That wasn’t a big deal, and you knew it, but since you started dating Billie, you’d learned what a homophobic asshole he was. You almost felt like he sought you out sometimes, but that was ridiculous.

Right?

You think back to the last time you saw Doug, before he pushed you down the stairs. It had been in the mail room and he’s muttered a slur under his breath before leaving. He hadn’t touched you then, but clearly that hadn’t stuck. You think about how easy it should be to avoid him and how there was no real reason to be afraid.

As you’re standing in the shower trying to convince yourself that Doug isn’t a threat, you realize why you’re so fixated on this. Why you’re giving someone who doesn’t deserve a second thought, so much of your time and energy.

You groan under your breath at your own stupidity. Then you curse yourself for not knowing where to go from here, despite knowing what you need to do.

Why did life have to be so hard?

By the time you’re out of the shower your headache is back full-force. You groan as you manage to change clothes before you have to sit down on the bed. You close your eyes and just try to relax and will away your headache, but your head is still pounding almost 10 minutes later. You lie down on the bed and groan under your breath. You don’t realize how long you lay there until you almost fall asleep.

Milo gets bored downstairs and decides to come and look for either you or Billie. Since Billie was still with the kittens, he finds you first and he hurriedly pushes his way into the room and over to you. He starts pawing at your arm and you groan again before turning away from him.

“No, Milo stop! Go away.”

You hope that this will be enough to get your dog to leave you alone, but really you know Milo better than that. He sits down and whines loudly before he decides to take matters into his own hands. He circles the bed and jumps up on to it, jostling you and making your head throb annoyingly. You open your eyes to glare at him when he starts to lick your face.

“No! Bad Milo. Get down!”

Milo whines but he listens to you, and is on the ground by the time Billie is coming into the room. She looks inside, immediately seeing you curled up on the bed with your head under a pillow and Milo looking pitiful from where he sits on the floor just staring at you.

“Are you alright?”

You don’t have the energy to turn and face Billie and that really tells her all that she needs to know. Still, she cuts off the lights and walks towards the bed with a frown. You sigh before you chance a look out from under the pillow to see that Billie has turned off the lights. You know you shouldn’t be, but you’re surprised by this. Eventually you wave Billie off ineffectively.

“My head hurts, but it’s okay. I just need to lie here.”

Billie doesn’t say anything for a little while. She does some math in her head, realizing that you just took your meds before looking to Milo when he whines. She watches you flinch slightly at the sound and she makes the decision to take him off your hands.

“Other than taking Milo, is there anything I can do for you?”

You smile at this before removing the pillow from you face and turning so you are looking at Billie. You shake your head before regretting it instantly and cringing at your stupidity.

“That’s more than enough, thank you. I really think I just need to sleep it off.”

Billie doesn’t argue with you and she just leaves hoping that you’ll feel better sooner rather than later. She takes Milo downstairs with her, and gives him a treat when he sits down in the living room. She tries getting some work done, but she’s distracted and not worried enough about the interview to really focus. She’ll have all day tomorrow, not that she needed it, so she closes her computer before looking to Milo.

He’s licking his paws clean, but he looks up at Billie when she stands. He’s quick to get up too as Billie walks to the kitchen to get something to drink. She drinks most of a glass of wine standing at the counter as she stares out the window. It’s dark so she can’t see anything really, but she looks to where she knows the garden is, and wonders who would have snuck back there.

She’s afraid that she knows who it is, or at least why they were back there and she sighs in defeat. She considers how likely it is that you will continue to be bothered. She hopes that the novelty wears off soon, but there’s really no telling at this point. Billie just hopes that they leave you alone at least until you are feeling better.

Billie finishes her wine and cleans the kitchen before glancing at the clock. It’s a little early for her to sleep, but she figures she’ll walk Milo one last time and then check on the cats before going to bed. She would have to check on you too, but she was certain you were asleep at this point.

You are upstairs failing to sleep when your phone goes off from somewhere in the room. You groan, not sure of where you’d left it, and you are tempted to ignore it until it continues to vibrate. You sit up in bed forcing your eyes open as you scan the room. It is completely dark except for the dim light of your phone in the middle of the floor. Why had you left it there?

You sigh in relief when it finally stops vibrating, but you decide that you need to get it in case it starts again. You throw the covers that you’d managed to crawl under off of you before swinging your legs off to the side of the bed. You don’t bother standing up, you just drop to your knees before crawling towards you phone. You’re glad you’re alone because this probably looks as weird as it is, but you get your phone without aggravating your headache too much.

You silence it and carry it back with you before putting it on the side table. You groan under your breath as you simply close your eyes and just wait until you summon the energy to crawl back into bed. You glance at your phone realizing it is already 10, and you just hope that Billie will take care of Milo because you are not about to go downstairs to walk him.

You are almost asleep when Billie comes to check on you a little while later.

After taking care of the kittens and walking Milo, Billie gets ready for bed. She decides to leave Milo downstairs for the night, and he doesn’t seem to mind as he gets settled in the living room. She glances to your door before retreating into her room. She changes clothes, brushes her teeth and washes her face before she looks to her bed. She wants to check on your before sleeping, so she sneaks down the hall and opens the door as quietly as possible.  

She looks in and sees that you’re under the covers and appear to be asleep. She turns to leave, starting to shut the door until she hears you shift and groan under your breath.

“Billie?”

Billie releases her hold on the door before she speaks as quietly as possible.

“Hi, Y/N. I was just checking to see if you needed anything?”

You don’t respond immediately, and you just sigh before shifting so you’re closer to the middle of the bed. You stifle a yawn as you speak up just loudly enough for Billie to hear.

“Yes, please. Come sit?”

Billie realizes that you’re making room for her and she sighs before walking further into the room. She shuts the door behind her before coming to stand at the side of the bed, watching as you throw back the covers for her.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you need? Water or--?”            

You just shake your head before patting the bed with a yawn. “Nope. Just you.”

Billie sighs in defeat as she simply nods before getting into bed next to you. She’s careful not to jostle you too much, but as soon as she’s lying under the covers, you’re moving closer to her. You wrap your arms around her tentatively before you peer up at her with a curious look that’s lost on her due to the darkness.

“Is this okay?”

Billie just smiles before telling you that it’s fine, so you lie down with your head on her shoulder before you close your eyes.

Billie is near sleep when you speak up again. She opens her eyes in surprise because she was certain that you had fallen asleep. She hadn’t expected you to speak so suddenly and she jumps slightly before turning to see that you’re looking at her. It’s too dark to really make out your expression, but Billie guesses that you’re frowning based on what you said.

***

“I never told you what was bothering me.”

Billie starts to shake her head but then realizes you may not notice. Your eyes are closed and you are still curled up against Billie as you fight off your headache. You open them slightly and even though there isn’t a lot of light coming in from the window, it’s enough to irritate you.

“You don’t have to tell me, Y/N. It’s late.”

Billie waits as you figure out how you want to respond. You don’t say anything immediately. You just sigh as you try to get move comfortable, and turn so you’re able to see Billie’s face. At least the little bit of it that’s visible.

“I know. I just don’t want you to be mad.”

Billie isn’t sure what to say to this at first and decides to wait until you elaborate. You don’t however so she just asks the obvious question.

“Why would I be mad?”

You take a deep breath before you move away a little so you can see Billie without being on top of her. You don’t realize that she takes this the wrong way. You’re too worried about not saying the wrong thing.

“I want to tell you what she did so you understand why I’m like this. I just don’t want you to be mad.”

Billie frowns at this and opens her mouth to say something, but you beat her to it. You need to speak up before you lose your nerve. You frown at the thought of what happened earlier tonight. You hate how just talking to Billie had somehow reminded you of her. She and Billie couldn’t be more different, but you supposed it couldn’t be helped. You could only do better.

“She used to yell at me for apologizing too much. She’d tell me I was worthless because I was too soft.”

You close your eyes, missing Billie’s look as you try to block out the memories of all the fights you used to have. Maybe you had been too soft. You’d stopped fighting against her because arguing seemed useless, and eventually you’d run instead of trying to figure things out. Not that you believed you could have. Billie on the other hand, is thinking back to your conversation in the kitchen and how your demeanor had changed so suddenly. Had she done something to make you think of your ex?

“I’m not telling you so you feel bad, for me. I’m just realizing that with the whole thing that happened with Doug, not dealing with how she made me feel isn’t an option.”

Billie had been waiting for you to say this. Since she’d asked you on the walk with Milo why you were wanting to figure this out now. It was less of a mystery to Billie now given what you’ve told her, but she wanted to know your intentions, and if she could help.

“I just have some things I need to unlearn.”

Billie is quiet for a while as she considers what you could be talking about. You yawn and close your eyes again, feeling sleepier now that you’re nice and comfortable. You don’t realize how Billie’s deep in thought until she speaks up. You’re so shocked by what she says that you nearly sit up.

“When Milo interrupted us in the kitchen…was that because of something your ex did?”

You had not been expecting Billie to bring this up. Sure you’d explained to Billie why Milo had reacted the way he had, but you suppose you hadn’t told her exactly what had happened. You’d mentioned being pushed around. You hadn’t wanted to tell Billie all of the details.

Now; however, Billie was asking for clarification and you wanted to give it to her. It just meant that you had to talk about something you hadn’t told anyone.

This probably needed to change.

“Yes. She um-we were fighting and she shoved me onto the counter and-.”

You trailed off as you recall what happened that day. You’d been out with some friends for too long, and the two of you had gotten into a yelling match. It quickly turned physical and you found yourself pinned beneath her.

You don’t notice how you start to fidget, and your hands go to your hair as you clear your throat.

“She tried to force herself on me, but Milo scared her off.”

You briefly wonder where your dog is before your attention is brought back to Billie. She reaches out for one of the hands that is currently tugging at your hair with a questioning look. You meet her the rest of the way and sigh in relief when she pulls you closer.

“I’m sorry if that, or anything else I’ve done has made you uncomfortable. If I ever do something you don’t like, tell me. I won’t be offended.”

You shake your head immediately because you didn’t want this. You don’t want Billie to apologize for doing something that you’d wanted. You hadn’t been thinking about anything but Billie when Milo had interrupted you two. You’d been surprised that he reacted the way he did because honestly other than that one similarity, there was nothing else about that encounter that resembled what happened with your ex.

“Billie, no. You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, or that I didn’t like.”

You sigh as you run your fingers over Billie’s absentmindedly as you play with her nails.

“It’s—it wasn’t the same. I’m not sure why Milo reacted that way, and…”

You take a deep breath, fighting the blush you know will appear at your next words. It’s dark enough that Billie won’t see it, but you’re sure she can hear it as you stutter slightly.

“The way you tease me is only in a way I-um like, and I love every second of it.”

Billie only manages a weak smile at this. She’s too busy thinking about how so many of the things she’s done or said to you could have been triggering. Initially, she hadn’t thought your shyness was due to anything other than your personality. She hadn’t considered you’d been hurt and that you were reluctant to trust people. Billie suddenly felt awful for somehow not realizing this sooner.

Billie sighs and you frown when you realize that she’s not cutting herself any slack. This is what you’d been worried about. You didn’t want Billie to beat herself up over this. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Just—please. If I ever do anything that’s out of line, let me know?”

You nod immediately before leaning forward to kiss Billie’s cheek. You smile, sincerely hoping that she catches a glimpse of it before you sigh and squeeze Billie’s hand tightly.

“You’ve been so sweet, and so considerate with me Billie. I feel so lucky and I know you may think it’s a big deal, but sometimes I’m okay with being bossed around. If it’s the right person and you’re kind, which you are.”

You stop rambling abruptly and take a deep breath before everything that you’d said registers. You’re slightly mortified by that last bit, but you don’t get a chance to think too much about it before Billie just laughs breathily and nods more to herself than to you. She leans in to kiss your forehead and then your nose before sighing in relief.

Okay, good. But, Y/N--.”

You already know what she’s going to say, so you cut her off with a kiss. You move closer to her so she can wrap her arms around your waist and pull you against her. You sigh in contentment before nodding with a small smile.

“Yes, I will tell you if I don’t like something, Billie. I promise.”

***

When you wake up the next morning, you forget where you are for just a second. Despite all of the convincing you’d done yesterday, mostly to yourself, you’d had a dream about Doug. You’d been in your apartment with Milo, and it had been a normal day. The dream had promptly ended when you’d woken up after answering the door to see Doug standing there with that same damn scowl of his.

You look around as you sit up with a groan. The bed is empty and you lie back down when your head pounds painfully. You’re parched and need to drink something, but you’re too lazy to get up. You settle back into bed, only having a few seconds to wonder where Billie is before the bedroom door opens.

You’re convinced that Billie is able to read your mind when you see that she’s brought two cups of something with her. You smile as you take the cup of coffee that is mostly milk, before kissing Billie in thanks. She smiles at you before moving to sit beside you. You sit up, careful not to spill before draining half the cup.

“You’re my favorite, did you know that?”

Billie laughs in response as she places her cup on the side table before scooting closer to you. She eyes you curiously but you miss it as you turn to put your cup down with a smile. You turn back to Billie when she places a hand on your thigh.

“Your favorite what?”

Your smile turns down slightly as you think about this, but it quickly widens as you shrug in faux disinterest. There’s a lot you could say but instead you decide to be sincere as you place a hand on top of Billie’s. You play with one of her rings before you meet her gaze with a smile.

“My favorite person, probably. You’ve been such a huge help and I’m just really grateful.”

You look away slightly embarrassed by what you say, but Billie stops you with a hand on your cheek. She’s smiling as she runs her fingers along you jaw before shaking her head.

“You deserve it, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

You roll your eyes, about to argue in some way but Billie cuts you off before you can even get a word out. You don’t feel like arguing once Billie’s lips touch yours and you sigh before leaning into the medium. Her hand moves to the back of your head to tangle in your hair as you kiss Billie harder. You groan as Billie tugs on your hair a little, and you turn so you’re closer to her. You don’t get a chance to reach out for her before Billie’s moving away from you.

You frown and you’re about to ask what’s wrong before Billie speaks up. Her hand falls from your hair and moves to your cheek again, Billie’s shooting you a concerned look as she runs her thumb along your bottom lip.

“How are you feeling?”

You smile slightly before your brow furrows in confusion. You’re used to Billie checking in with you, but it seems a little early for her. Usually she wouldn’t ask until you two got a little further along in what you were doing, but as you search Billie’s face for an explanation you realize that you are overlooking something that was fairly important.

“Um, I’m fine, how are you feeling?”

Billie realizes that you don’t really understand what she’s asking so she drops her hand into her lap.

“Your head, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen before you nod in confirmation. You smile before closing the gap between you and Billie again with another nod.

“Yes! It’s much better. I promise.”

You wait until Billie’s skeptical look disappears, and you smirk when she sighs in defeat. You move so you’re practically in Billie’s lap before she speaks up.

“You promise?”

You nod enthusiastically before leaning back in to kiss Billie. She doesn’t let you take lead for long and you just smile as she grabs your hips and pulls you into her lap. You resist the urge to groan as her fingernails dig into the sensitive skin at your waist. You sigh as Billie parts your lips and your hands immediately find her hair. You ignore the voice at the back of your mind telling you to take it easy. You’ve been here for three days and you and Billie hadn’t done more than kiss in passing.

You were recovering, sure, but that doesn’t stop your libido from rearing it’s head. In fact, it seems that spending time with Billie like this and getting to see her all the time has the opposite effect. Not that you expected anything else. You loved spending time with Billie, but you hated that you couldn’t do anything other than sit around.

You supposed this didn’t exactly count as just sitting around.

Your hold on Billie’s hair tightens as the blonde’s hands start to wander. You are too distracted by Billie’s hands sneaking under your shirt to hear Milo immediately. Billie just chooses to ignore him because he’s been fed and walked. All he really wants now is attention. You hiss at the feeling of Billie’s hands sliding up your back, but you jump when Milo stops whining and decides to scratch at the door.  You groan as you turn away from Billie to glare at the closed door. You don’t move because you’re not about to leave now. Milo can entertain himself for a while.

“Milo, no! Go away.”

Milo continues to scratch at the door, and you groan before shouting at him again. He stops but continues to whine, but you roll your eyes and just turn back to Billie. You smile before shifting your weight on Billie’s lap as you lean towards her again.

“He can take care of himself for a little bit.”

Milo sits at the door waiting for you to open it for a couple of minutes before giving up. Mostly, he is distracted by the sound of someone coming up the stairs. He turns and sees Bit grooming herself. The two of them had mostly avoided each other because Bit didn’t want anything to do with Milo. So she eyes him warily as she cleans her coat just down the hall from him. Since Milo didn’t have any luck with you, he decides to go see if Bit wants to play with him.

Once Milo left you and Billie alone, the two of you had picked up right where you left off. You’re shirtless and horizontal by the time that you hear Bit yowling and hissing from the hallway. You curse under your breath as you sit up quickly and hurry to jump off the bed. Billie is right behind you when you open the door to the sound of Bit hissing loudly at Milo who is crouched down in his play bow in front of the cat. Bit however, is having none of it, and she hisses at him as he tries to get closer to her.

“Milo! Hey, come here.”

You hurry to pull Milo away from Bit who has her back arched and looks like she wants to claw the shit out of him. Luckily, Milo turns to you when you call his name and he bounds over to you. He jumps scratching you and you yell at him before telling him to sit.

“Ow! Milo no! Sit down.”

Once Milo is out of the way Bit runs to the laundry room to escape. It’s not open so Billie goes to let her in while you take Milo back to Billie’s room. You tell him to sit as you find your shirt and get dressed. You don’t find it immediately, and Billie returns before you manage to pull it back on. You sigh once you’re finally dressed and you shoot Milo a glare before smiling at Billie.

“I guess I’m up now.”

It’s lunch time before you and Billie have a moment of peace. Milo has decided to be a demon today, and Billie got stuck on calls for work that she hadn’t been expecting. She didn’t have too much to do in terms of preparing for Friday. It was really just another couple of interviews, one in the morning and one late at night, if you understood correctly.

You didn’t have much to do either. You didn’t work until Monday, but Milo was causing you more trouble than usual. He was being a brat and not leaving you alone until you took him outside. After the third time you told him that he was staying put until after lunch. He did not like this and started whining loudly. You didn’t want him disturbing Billie so you cave and take him outside again. This time, you go to the backyard to get him to calm down and to get some fresh air. You’re surprised by how sunny it is outside until you remember that you had been wearing sunglasses for the last two times you walked Milo. Your headache had come back and the only way to make walking him tolerable was to wear them.

You let Milo wander around the yard while you lie down in one of the chairs on the deck. You watch Milo carefully, but he hasn’t shown much interest in going beyond Billie’s yard. Still, you call him over after a few minutes and he comes to lie down next to you after planting a messy kiss on your cheek. You groan before scratching his muzzle and then squishing his ears.

“Are you feeling better now? Less bratty?”

Milo only licks you again before resting his head on your stomach. It doesn’t look super comfortable how he’s sitting, but you don’t protest as you lie back and stretch out your legs with a yawn. You definitely could fall asleep here if you’re not careful.

Billie sighs as she finally hangs up the phone after almost an hour of talking to her producer. She hadn’t expected this call and she was a little ticked. She needed a break from work for a while to cool off. She looks at the clock and sees that it is almost 1. She didn’t realize how late it was and now she’s annoyed for another reason.

Billie had been planning on eating with you, maybe even going out, but she figured you already had lunch. It had been about an hour since she’d seen you last.

Billie sighs as she stands up to search for you, but once she steps into the kitchen, she immediately sees Milo on the deck. She walks towards the back door and finally sees you lying in one of the chairs. Your eyes are closed making Billie think that you are probably asleep, so she opens the door quietly.

Milo notices her first of course and his tail starts to wag as he stands up to greet her. Billie smiles reaching out for him as she sneaks a peek at you, confirming that you are definitely asleep. You look comfortable all stretched out and Billie was tempted to leave you to rest.

You woke up, unsurprisingly, when Milo whined from beside you. You groan softly as you open your eyes, quickly covering them when you realize you were still outside.

“Tired?”

You turn suddenly at the sound of Billie’s voice, and you see her sitting in the chair next to you with Milo sitting between you. You smile before sitting up and shaking your head. Despite this, you yawn but ignore Billie’s look before asking how her calls went.

“Billie, hi. How did it go? Are you done?”

Billie sits up as well as she turns toward you with a sigh. She was tired, but she got most of the work she needed to do today done. You smile at this and you stand up and move to sit next to Billie. You consider sitting closer, but settle down beside her before responding.

“That’s great. So you have most of the afternoon off?”

You can’t help but smile widely as you ask this, and Billie of course, sees right through you. She laughs before pretending to think about this for a moment. She knows her answer already and is certain that you do too, but she looks to Milo briefly before making a contemplative noise.

“Hmm I’m not sure. I might be able to find more work to do.”

You pout at this and decide to see if you can convince Billie to find something better to do than work. You slide onto Billie’s lap and wrap your arms around her neck with a dramatic sigh.

“Billie, come onnn. There has to be something more exciting you can do. If you really don’t have to work…”

You shoot Billie a pleading look and the medium just smirks as she pulls you closer. You lean in to kiss her, but she turns away last minute making you pout yet again. You don’t frown for long though before Billie finally asks you what you had in mind.

“I guess I don’t have to, but what could possibly be more exciting than work?”

You kiss Billie’s cheek before looking around the backyard briefly. You weren’t too worried about being seen because Milo would probably warn you if you were no longer alone. So you just shrug before leaning in for a proper kiss. Your smile widens when Billie doesn’t turn away this time.

“I’m sure we can think of something.”

It was almost 3 pm before you and Billie got around to eating lunch. You were already thinking take out when Billie speaks up. She’s standing at the counter pouring the two of you glasses of water while you sit on the couch with Milo at your feet.

“What do you want to do for lunch? I was thinking we would go out, until we got sidetracked.”

You smile and turn to Billie as she says this. You thank her as you take one of the glasses before moving over so she can sit down. She smiles in thanks as you pick up your phone again to show Billie what you were looking at.

“Ah, right. Maybe we can just order in and go out another time?”

You turn to Billie who watches as you grab your phone before nodding. She thinks about when the best time for this would be. Given that she’s so busy tomorrow she doesn’t want to promise anything. However, she knows that she may need to destress after the interviews and her favorite way to relax was spending time with you.

“How about we go out tomorrow after I finish up working, if I’m not too exhausted?”

You turn to Billie with a surprised look. You are certain that you will be exhausted the time Billie finishes working tomorrow. One of her interviews was at night, and you liked staying up sometimes, but you’re not sure you want to stay up that late.

“Uhh, won’t you be working until midnight?”

Billie laughs at this before shaking her head. She now understands your bewildered look, but she just smiles before clarifying what tomorrow will look like.

“No, sweetheart. We’re filming that interview in the afternoon. It won’t really be live.”

You nod as realization dawns on you and you almost sigh in relief. You love spending time with Billie, but you’re not sure you could commit to anything after midnight.

“Okay. Well then sure. If you’re up to it.”

You both spend a few minutes talking about what to order for lunch before planning tomorrow night. Since you’re not sure if Billie is going to be in the mood to go out, you decide on a place that doesn’t require reservations. Billie asks you if there is anywhere you would like to go. You don’t know many places that you would want, and since Billie knows more about the area you suggest that she chooses.

“Well, we could go somewhere that allows dogs.”

You’re a little caught off guard by this and you shoot Billie a confused look. You turn to Milo before looking back to Billie with a small smile.

“You want Milo to come with us? On a date?”

Billie simply shrugs before saying why not. She likes Milo and has a feeling he’d be well behaved. Also, she didn’t want him staying at home alone with the cats for too long. When Billie says this, you smile in understanding before trying to think of a way that you could make him staying here work. Just in case Billie didn’t really want him tagging along. You of course thought of several reasons why having him would be beneficial, but you keep those to yourself for now.

“Are you sure, Billie? We can figure something else out.”

Billie just smiles again before shaking her head. She reaches out for your hand before glancing at Milo who is looking at you like he always is.

“I want you to be comfortable, Y/N, and I also don’t want you worrying about him. If that means we’re forced to have a handsome escort for our date, well, I think I can live with that.”

You laugh at this before shaking your head in disbelief. You’re not sure how you managed to get so lucky after your last relationship, and you don’t think you’ll ever stop wondering. You squeeze Billie’s hand before nodding in agreement. You’re sure you will enjoy it either way, but you are glad that Billie seems sincere when she says that she doesn’t mind the third wheel.

“Okay. Thank you, Billie.”

She just smiles before kissing you soundly. You eventually pull away when your phone buzzes, but you don’t bother looking at it as you turn to Milo with a smile. Billie just rolls her eyes with an amused chuckle before pulling you back towards her.

“Get cleaned up Milo, you need to look nice for our date tomorrow.”  

Part 18

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

The Part-Time Puppeteer - Chapter 06

<= Chapter 5

Summary : Lukas gets to have a heart-to-heart discussion with an absolute asshole. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828971/chapters/81015496

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AAAAH I'M SORRY FOR THE TWO MONTHS HIATUS I HAD A WRITER BLOCK---

Anyway uuuh, new chapter, I have no idea if it's good or not but still, here it is. I did my best to offer you a longer chapter as a compensation, it's twice the length of the last one.

Happy reading ! Thank you for waiting all this time.

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Chapter 6 - “Oh. It’s you.”

The rest of the day had been… Quite blurry for the student. After coming back home, he had sat down at his desk, staring into space for… Minutes, hours, he hadn’t been able to tell. It was an understatement to say that he was in shock after what had happened. Even after everything, his mind couldn’t help but think this was just a joke, or that he had imagined the whole thing. But the script in his bag was a proof of the contrary. For a good while, the young man hadn’t found the courage to look back at it, as if it were some sort of cursed object, haunting him. But then, the Conductor’s words came back to him: “learn your text by tomorrow”. An order, a clear one, coming from one of his bosses. The student shivered as he remembered, soon bringing his hands to his face, massaging his closed, tired eyes. Oh, boy, why did he always get in that kind of situation… Even when he was a kid, he would often get dragged in things like this. He had thought this would get better as he grew up, but noooo, of fucking course it wouldn’t. Lukas let out a loud, long, exaggerated sigh, and stood up. He walked to his sofa bed all while dragging his feet and, once he was in front of it, it was like what was left of his energy left him. What a day . With another sigh, the student felt his body fall forward, and it wasn’t long before his face hit one of his pillows. Air was forced out of his lungs by the impact, though he did nothing but grunt in the fabric. Him? An actor? This couldn’t be right, this just… It wasn’t right. Sure, MJ was a jerk, but he still had the skills and the experience! In comparison, Lukas was just a law student- not a bad one, mind you, which only made it even more surprising to see him getting the role. It wasn’t like he had chosen the wrong scholar path, no, on the contrary, he was skilled in his major. But apparently, his bosses had seen something else deep inside that walking shell of anxiety… -“Uuuuugh...” his voice was low and tired. For a moment, he thought he was almost going to fall asleep like this, still wearing his clothes, but he reluctantly sat down. With a look full of weariness and unwillingness, the student’s attention went back to his bag, in which the script was. He didn’t want to learn the lines, and a single glance at his desk full of homework was a good way to understand why. But it seemed like his paycheck was now depending on it, as much as he would have preferred to remain a stagehand… -“Guess I don’t have a choice…” he mumbled, before moving his foot to reach for the bag, making it slide towards him, so he could open it. He supposed that he would be able to scribble down the answers to his homework during his lunch break… Or, at least, he hoped. And so, the young man spent the next two hours learning his lines, saying them out loud, so he could remember them. A good thing about his brain was that it learned pretty well from words and sounds. Thus, by saying them out loud, Lukas was pretty efficient in remembering them. Plus, truth to be told, those lines weren’t exactly as hard to learn as his law books… Not that it was a bad thing, far from it. At least, it made his job far easier. However, he wasn’t going to lie, there were a few parts that were harder to remember. Once he was done, the student hesitated on whether he should go to sleep (the reasonable option) or try to get some of his homework done. Sure, he was pretty tired, and the day had been filled by a lot of diverse emotions… But part of him knew he just wouldn’t be able to fall asleep knowing what awaited him the day after. He had always been very anxious, this was a secret to no one, and especially not himself… However, this whole thing was very new, and it made it all worse. And so… The student ended up staying up late until three in the morning, managing to get most of his homework done. One of the perks of being good at a subject was being fast. Of course, this would have given him much better results if he had worked on it seriously, without all the tiredness and all, but the context wasn’t really allowing him that.

Thus, Lukas packed up his college stuff for the next day and soon went to sleep for one very short night. Oh, well, not his first, far from it. Thankfully, he had a few sleeping meds he had kept from an old treatment, allowing him to fall asleep rather quick. However, this always came at a price- they made waking up a much more difficult moment, as his body was still very much under the influence of the medicine when that happened. And the next morning… Was no exception, especially since he only got to sleep for less than three hours. Fighting the urge to go back to sleep, Lukas managed to get up and prepare himself for college. New clothes, brushing his hair and teeth… It only took him a moment until he was ready to leave his small apartment. Oh, his face, however… It looked like it belonged to a rotten corpse, who had just come back to life… Somewhat. The trip to college was pretty ordinary, and so was his morning and afternoon, actually. He gave his teachers all the papers that were due, he aced one of his oral presentation despite looking like a dead man… No, really, this day was going well, which was surprising considering he was mostly surviving thanks to coffee and to the fear of collapsing in public. Yeah, no, he didn’t want any attention on him… Which was a funny thing to think about, because this was exactly what he was going to get with his new job! Once his classes were over, Lukas took the bus to his workplace, dread settling on his shoulders, heavier and heavier as the minutes passed. Oh, he didn’t want to get that role… Of course, he could tell his bosses, but there was a small part of him, deep down, that was curious about where this would lead him. Now, obviously, being a stagehand was a pretty classic job, one without risks… But this? While he was terrified of screwing up, especially since people would be looking at him… Yeah, there was something that prevented him from refusing this promotion. And, also, if that could piss MJ off, then it was a good bonus. The studio reception was calm compared to the day before and, for a moment, just a small moment, the student thought his shift was going to be nice. But ooh, no, he couldn’t have nice things- the moment he opened the door leading to the staff areas, he winced as many voices echoed around him. They were coming from all directions, through walls, doors too! It was a large cacophony in there, and people were running around, carrying stuff and bringing props for each shooting. Actions movies, dramas, comedies… Each type had its own part of the studio, but there was this central room linking them all together and, oh, this place was just a battlefield. Moving fast through the agitated crowd, Lukas tried to reach his accredited part of the studio- the children shows shootings. Avoiding props almost falling on his feet accidentally, sneaking between people carrying hot coffee, and bending down to avoid planks being carried around… He bumped into someone just before he got to open the door leading to his area. -“Oh, I- I’m sorry,” he stammered, quickly moving back, so he could apologize properly to the person he had bumped into. However, his eyes widened when he recognized the figure in front of him. Mike! The good twin. For a second, the latter’s face had alarmed him, as he thought he had bumped into MJ instead… But thankfully, while having the same face, the two brothers had very different hairstyles and fashion choices. The student let out a sigh- phew, he wasn’t sure he would have been ready for MJ’s bullshit right at the beginning of his shift. -“Oh, hey!” Mike seemed almost as surprised as he was, though his expression quickly changed to a warm, welcoming one: “Good to see you again- oh, wait, let’s, uh… Get inside,” he then mumbled, opening the door quickly so they both could leave the absolute war zone they were in. Lukas didn’t lose any time and followed the other like a shadow would, only getting the opportunity to sigh in relief as they found themselves in a much quieter place. Kinda ironic that the children shows part of the

studio was calmer than the staff hall... -“Hey,” he finally replied, now that the “battlefield” was behind them: “It’s good to see you too,” he answered trustfully, with a smile. He hadn’t seen the other since MJ’s outburst the day before, and getting the chance to meet him again was a good way of making Lukas’ day a little better and… Less chaotic. -“How are you?” he then asked, deciding to take a moment for a conversation with his only friend in the studio so far. Plus, he was… Worried. With what had happened the day before, and how MJ had thrown Mike’s puppet on the floor like it was nothing, he wanted to make sure everything was okay. -“Oh, I’m… Doing fine,” the other looked away with an awkward smile, which was an obvious sign that things had definitely happened yesterday. With how furious the actor had been when leaving the shooting, Lukas could very well imagine the latter taking his frustration on his brother. What an asshole. But, it was family business, and he couldn’t say anything about it, as a stranger. -“What about you?” Mike added quickly, visibly determined on changing the topic: “I heard you got the role, yesterday. Congrats!” The praise took the student by surprise, and he felt his cheeks reddening from the embarrassment. Oh, man, this was new, yeah… He wasn’t used to that kind of thing. His stance tensed up, and a sheepish smile took place on his lips. -“Oh, uh… Thanks,” he blurted out, and it was his turn to look away: “It’s… Really weird, I guess I’m just… Feeling a bit shocked, you know?” he turned his head back to his new friend and a nervous giggle escaped him. He was fidgeting, not really knowing how to respond to that. -“Ah, yeah, it’s your first time,” Mike nodded, remembering that Lukas had first been hired as a stagehand, not as an actor: “Don’t worry, children shows are the perfect way to start as a beginner. You know, with the public being less critical and all… I’m sure you’ll get used to it in no time.” The puppet maker was kind, trying to reassure Lukas and ease his anxiety. Too bad that his stage fight was skyrocketing since the moment he had stepped in the building again… Another nervous giggle left his lips, and he started to rub his arm, not knowing what to do with his hands. -“I suppose so…” he muttered, still smiling, though it looked less genuine: “It’s just that… I mean… Why me? I’m just a guy who wanted a part-time job. I’m not an actor, I don’t have any experience…” -“Well, from what I’ve heard, you were pretty good yesterday- oh, speaking about that…” Mike’s face darkened, as if he had just remember to mention something unpleasant: “I think you should… Avoid MJ, as much as you can, from now on. My brother, he’s… He didn’t take it well, I’m not gonna lie, and… I mean, you saw how he is with people, he’s not the best at being with others. Now, with what happened yesterday, I don’t think he’ll make your life any easier.” The student grimaced as he listened to his friend. Yeah… Yeah, he had seen that coming. With how livid MJ had been when leaving the set, it wasn’t surprising that the latter was going to make his shifts hell. God, he really hoped he would manage to avoid that jerk… -“Yeah, I… Kinda expected that,” he admitted, tilting his head to the side with a wince: “But, uh… Since he’s not part of the team anymore, I shouldn’t run too much into him… Right?” -“I wish I’d say yes, but…” Mike answered, his face showing conflict: “He has some other roles in the studio, and he might come see me now and then, so… Yeah. Be careful and do your best to avoid him. He’s not… The best person to be around when he’s like this.” “Oh, you mean all the time, then?” Lukas thought to himself, but kept his mouth shut. Not the best thing to say out loud, especially when it came to said person’s twin. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why Mike was making so many efforts for someone that clearly didn’t deserve them… But, then again, he was a stranger, it wasn’t his place to say anything. -“Will do,” he assured his friend, before looking at his watch and- oh, shit, he was going to

be late. Apparently, it must have been visible from his expression, because the puppet maker let out a soft giggle: -“Oh, yeah, it’s time,” he looked up, as if he were trying to remember something: “Last time I saw the Conductor and DJ Grooves, they were in the conference room with some investors. You should go practice in the meantime… My workshop is open, if you want,” he offered with a shrug: “It’s a small room, but I’m normally the only one there, so if you wanna have some quiet, alone time to rehearse, well… I need to help the stagehands for some set repairs, so I won’t bother you.” The offer was a really nice attention, another one that did help to make Lukas’ day a little better. Considering his promotion, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to help the other stagehands while waiting for his bosses, but… Well, practicing really wouldn’t hurt, especially considering how short his night had been. -“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he gave Mike a warm smile, before pointing to a door on the other side of the room: “It’s this one, right?” he asked for confirmation. -“Yep, that’s the one! Just, uh… Please don’t touch anything, most of the puppets and costumes aren’t done, so they’re quite fragile.” Lukas assured him he wouldn’t, and even then, he didn’t have any reason to. At least, contrary to his friend’s twin, he knew how to respect someone’s work… And with that, the two waved to one another, before heading to opposite directions. The student walked to the door with a quick pace, wanting to get as much time as possible to practice. When he opened it, he was surprised to see that, yeah, the room was pretty small indeed, even smaller than what he had imagined. The place was full of puppets hanging from the ceiling, and the walls were covered in eccentric and colorful clothes. It was almost eye straining! Two out of the four corners of the rooms were used to stock supplies and different types of fabric, making the room even smaller than it originally was. Then, hidden in the third corner was a desk with a sewing machine on top of it. It looked like an old but durable one, the kind that would last years even if it was out-of-date. Other than that, the desk was full of smaller supplies, like needles, sewing threads, pens, pieces of paper, templates… It was like this room had no free space other than the center of it. Well, Lukas supposed this is where he would rehearse, then. Not like there were many other option… The young man closed the door behind him and made a few steps, his eyes looking all around him. He didn’t think it was possible to fit so many things in a single room, but, hey, he was wrong! He then shook his head- it was time to work. After clearing his throat, the student opened his bag and took the script out, flipping the pages up to the parts he had the most trouble remembering. Oh, jeez, he really was doing this, wasn’t he? This was so weird… But whatever paid his bills and his studies, he guessed. And so… He got to work. It was a lot easier to practice when there was no one around. No one to judge him, no one to mock him when he fucked up… Yeah, it made it all easier. Sure, he didn’t have any experience in it, but at least he had to admit it was pretty fun. Nonetheless, he still had no idea why the two directors chose him over an experienced actor like MJ… Like, of course he had noticed the latter was a huge asshole, but other than that, his acting skills were obvious. Maybe he was being used to give MJ a lesson…? This seemed like the most probable explanation. After all, MJ’s presence in the casting was supposed to bring attention to the show… And now, one of the most important roles had been given to a nobody instead. It didn’t seem like a good idea, marketing-wise. Law was his specialty, but that didn’t mean he was stupid when it came to other things. Lukas couldn’t believe he had been chosen for his “talents”, because he had none on that field. After a moment, he paused his practice, shutting his eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh. Shit, this was distracting him. He couldn’t focus

on his lines. His acting skills, if he had any, were affected by it. It was like something was entering his mind from one side only to disappear through another. Memorizing the words was harder than he had thought it would be the day before, and he couldn’t help but grunt in frustration. Fuck, he knew he was able to remember those lines, he had learned much more complex texts before! This script was simple, so the young man put the blame on his short night of sleep. Furthermore, it was hard to memorize something only by starting the day before… He was about to start again when he heard the door opening behind him, cutting him short. The student turned to the direction of the noise, expecting to see Mike’s face and… Well, in a way, he kinda did. Except it wasn’t Mike. It was MJ, the evil twin. “Oh, fuck me,” he thought, paling up. For fuck’s sake, right after Mike told him to avoid his brother! Was it a joke or something?! Before he even got the chance to speak, MJ’s expression changed from a neutral one to one of utter disgust. Yeah, clearly, the other had expected to see his twin, but… Nope, Lukas had been the one in the room. “Lesson learned, never going back in that workshop alone,” the student told himself, though it was way too late to do anything about it. -“Oh. It’s you,” the actor spat, this time not trying to keep his nice mask on like he had been when they had met the day before: “The fuck are you doing here?” The celebrity’s eyes were glaring at him, all while examining him from top to bottom. It was… Very unpleasant, to be stared at this way. And being talked to like that? Yeah, no, Lukas was perhaps a shy person, but he didn’t want to let anyone walk all over him, especially not an asshole like MJ. Usually, he tended to flee conflict, but today was different. He was way too tired to deal with this shit. -“Yes , hello to you too,” he muttered as an answer, quickly putting his attention back to the script: “Your brother’s not here, but he told me I could use the room in the meantime.” Apparently, his tone didn’t please the actor, whose eyes narrowed in response: -“No kidding, I can see my brother’s not here, dumbass,” he shrugged and rolled his eyes: “I’m not blind.” Oooh, the insult didn’t fall on deaf ears, and it really rubbed Lukas the wrong way. He turned to the celebrity again, this time returning the latter’s glare: -“Well, good for you, I guess,” the student spoke louder than his previous mutter. His annoyance was much more visible, though he still remained polite: “If you’re looking for Mike, he’s with the stagehands.” -“Didn’t ask,” the actor retorted harshly. The other’s eyes then fell on the script, and his expression darkened. Well, shit, this couldn’t be good- and, just like Lukas had predicted, it wasn’t. MJ’s look of hatred was soon replaced by a mocking yet salty expression, one that the student really didn’t like. -“Aw, am I interrupting something?” the celebrity taunted him, leaning against the door frame as a smirk took place on his lips. -“Actually, yes. You are,” Lukas’ patience was running out. God, he wanted to punch that guy so bad… Well, not like he would ever do that, he wasn’t that kind of person. Still, the urge was there. In response to his honest words, the actor scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes again. God, that fucking asshole… -“What, don’t tell me you honestly think you have what it takes!” MJ’s tone had changed from a mocking one to a harsher, meaner one: “You have no idea how to play a role- lemme guess, you never had any theater courses before, hm?” At Lukas’ silence, the celebrity snickered bitterly: -“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re just a nobody, a guy who happened to be there at the right time. But you, an actor? Don’t make me laugh. You don’t know shit about acting.” Okay, now that was enough. Politeness was nice and all, but with this guy? No, nu-huh, nope, not happening. In an instant, Lukas’ attempts at remaining civil were thrown away through a window. No one could talk to him like that, and not even his anxiety was

going to silence him. -“Oh, I don’t know shit about acting, that’s right,” he talked back, his tone much more aggressive: “But at least I know how to be a decent person.” -“Excuse me?” MJ’s face showed a mix of bewilderment and fury, probably because no one ever confronted him like this in the past: “I didn’t steal someone else’s job!” -“Hah, that’s rich!” the student scoffed, raising his arms with a scandalized expression: “You lost your job! I didn’t do anything!” his voice echoed in the room as his anger intensified: “If you weren’t such an asshole, maybe you’d have kept your place in the-” However, the student didn’t even get the time to finish his sentence. The celebrity had dashed towards him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, bringing their face close as an intimidating gesture: -“Watch your fucking mouth,” was the warning he got from the other, whose eyes were fixed on his: “There are so many things I could do to make your life a living Hell. I have a lot of strings I can pull, and if I were you, I wouldn’t risk that,” the actor’s voice had got lower, like a murmur, a clear threat directed to him. But Lukas was just getting so fucking tired of it. Enough was enough. He grabbed the celebrity’s hand and pulled it away, forcing the latter to let go of him. -“So, let me get this straight: you want to destroy me because I pointed out how much of a jerk you were to everyone? And you still think you’re the decent person out of us two? You might want to rethink that, buddy.” The response he got was yet another glare, though this time there was no spiky answer. “Of course I’m right, asshole, can’t say anything back, now, can you?” he thought to himself, pride swelling inside him. Man, this was perhaps the first argument he ever won… Holy shit, yeah, it was- and he didn’t even stutter! Maybe he needed to be tired more often- yeah, no, that wasn’t a good idea. Air was forced out of his lungs as he was pushed away, though despite the fear of being punched, it never came. The look of pure hatred he was getting from MJ was almost burning him and, for a moment, he really thought he would get attacked- being someone who had never fought anyone, he wasn’t really confident about his abilities to fight back. But all MJ did was to step back to the door, a furious expression written all over his face: -“You wanna play that game with me?” he spat: “Fine. But mark my words, stagehand, I will win.” And not even giving Lukas the time to retort anything, the actor stormed off the room and slammed the door behind him. It screamed “ I am mad, and I want everyone to know that”. Lukas, however, did not give a single fuck about it. Perhaps it was the tiredness speaking (and it was), but if the other wanted to fight, then Lukas would be ready. Well, he probably wouldn’t in hindsight, once his mind cleared up… But at the moment, the young man’s anger was making him blind to many aspects. One of them being that MJ was a famous person who was indeed capable of destroying him, and making him fail his studies with just the right calls. But this wasn’t something Lukas would realize before calming down. And only then, he would ask himself “why the hell couldn’t I keep my mouth shut like usual?!” Until that moment… The student kept rehearsing, though his anger prevented him from actually anything. Today was going to be a long day…

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hopefully Lukas won't have too much trouble with this jerk of an actor :)c (who I love with all my heart)

=> Chapter 7

[shibarirobot]

Aizawa fic - CH3 - Entrapment

18+ Only! SFW (for now)

Shouta Aizawa x Villain!OC/Reader (?)

CH1

CH2

!!TW!! mentions of abuse, trauma, blood

Above are the links to the first two chapters, but for those that just want to get to it, I will briefly summarize. The main character here(who I choose to keep very nondescript so anyone can enjoy this, that may change as things get more physical between them and our hero. I will continue using they/them pronouns for this, but I have lady parts and will probably end up using those words.) is a villain that has just stolen information, fought Aizawa and made an escape to a roof where they fought with a member of their crew and Maybe(?) probably killed them.

Thank you for reading! 

Enjoy! x

~

Sirens blare behind me as cops start to arrive at the scene. I pull the hood on my jacket up over my head and dip around the corner. I hadn’t tried to stick around long enough for them to show up, but left without a quick way off the roof after tossing that damn bat off the side, I had to take the stairs. It was a long way down, but the stairwell was entirely connected all the way to the ground floor, I would have been seriously pissed off if I had to find multiple sets of stairs. My face is mostly obscured by my hood, but I look down everytime a random citizen passes by. I can never be too careful about being seen. 

I reach into my pocket and feel for my marble, my anxiety is rising quickly as a group of four teen girls walks towards me on the sidewalk. I almost freak out when my pocket turns up empty, but then I remember that I threw it, that it’s the only reason I’m still walking free. This brings me slight peace before I hear giggling and sneer to myself. High schoolers. I look at their uniforms, even better, hero students. I pull the drawstrings on my hood and it scrunches around my face, hiding me further. Anonymity isn’t the only reason I prefer not to be seen, but it’s the most self preserving reason, the one that makes the most sense. The other is because I’m afraid. Afraid of what they could say, of what they could think. I’ve heard it all, but it never fails to sting a little when the unfiltered truth of others thoughts wash over me. 

Weirdo. What. A. Freak.

OMG what are they wearing?

Damn, why do I always have to walk on the outside? Don’t you all care at all if I get grabbed?

Please don’t rob us, please don’t rob us.

Look away. Just look away.

I pull the drawstrings tighter and walk slightly faster, trying to push their thoughts from my brain, but failing grandly as all I can focus on is how much I don’t fit in, how little the rest of the world cares for people that don’t fit in the cookie cutter mold of societal expectations. The girls are having a light hearted conversation amongst themselves as I pass by, a complete confliction to the sour, curdled thoughts that had just slipped out. My eyes are glued to my feet as I take one step after the other, my legs feel like lead as I fight the urge to scream at them and silence their brain functions. I’m so focused on getting myself away from those girls that I barely register the man walking in front of me, talking loudly on the phone. I thump into his back, my eyes still strained down at the tips of my boots. He looks down at me, surprised. I can feel his eyes on me, feel the shock as his words falter into the phone mic. 

Woah. All black, huh? 

Trying to avoid a conflict, I duck to the side and mutter a curt ‘sorry’ below my breath, already shuffling off. He reaches out to me though, reaching for my shoulder. “Hey, wait. Sorry to bump into y-” 

I jerk away without looking. “Don’t touch me… please.” I cough the pleasantry out, it’s hard to hold myself back when all I want to do is swear at him and rip his eyes from his skull, knowing full well this is only a minor inconvenience, not a stopping block for me. I slightly turn my head, looking up at him out of one eye, he looks down at me, stunned. 

Wait… Is this the one?

Who is this man? He looks slightly familiar, but I can’t quite place him. He’s got long blonde hair, pulled into a simple ponytail and a goatee that makes him look like he still thinks the year is 2008. My eyes fall back to my feet as I take quick paces away from him. I don’t know him, but it seems like he might know me, which is definitely a bad sign. My anxiety swells again as I feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. This really can’t be good. I can still feel him watching me as I retreat, but his focus shifts back to his phone as someone yells on the other end of the receiver. “Yah, yah! I’m right around the corner. Get off my back, Shouta… I said I’m right around the corner! … No! I’m not in ‘uniform’, it’s my day off!” I let my anxiety roll off my shoulders as I get farther away from him and can no longer hear his shouting. I’m not sure why he threw me off so much, but I’m happy to be crossing the street and leaving his line of vision, turning an extra corner, just to be safe. I can’t afford anyone following me right now.

I’m still a bit rattled as I step down the stairs to the underground train tunnels. The tunnels are old, abandoned years ago after a train derailed and collapsed several tunnels. There were so many casualties, they shut down the entire train system after that, but by then technology had become so advanced compared to the subway that they didn’t even bother rebuilding. The city just closed off the tunnel entrances to the public. Citizens and tourists still come down to the platforms to take pictures and read plaques about the deceased. It’s ridiculous really. They didn’t know any of the people that died, had no connection to them, they would have no clue about the lives lost here if it hadn’t been all over the news. What the news wouldn’t tell the unsuspecting audience of sheep, is that it was actually a hero that crashed the train. The media told the world that a minor earthquake had derailed the train, which was only partially true. A minor earthquake had caused the crash, but a hero had caused the earthquake. A hero was the direct cause of so many shortened lives, innocent and corrupt alike, all dead within seconds. The media just swept that under the rug, not a single news coverage even mentioned his name as they described the tragedy. He continued his hero work as if nothing had even happened, as if he hadn’t murdered the very people he vowed to protect, as if he wasn’t the sole reason those people died. My sister was among those lost. She wasn’t my only family, but the only one I liked, the only one that made life even bearable. A tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it away in frustration, no time for emotions. No time for tears. No time to let myself wallow, because I know once I start on that path, I’ll never stop. I’ll cry until I can’t breathe, until my eyes are swollen shut, until my lungs give out. So I cut myself short. No tears.

The platform is empty when I reach the tracks, the silence echoing. This is the only place I’m free of everyone else’s trilling thoughts buzzing in my brain, the thick concrete walls jamming their signal from getting to me. I release a long awaited sigh, the anxiety finally subsiding and leaving a slight hunger in my stomach. I had been so worked up I forgot to get food. I pull the hood off my head and hop down onto the tracks, walking them like a balance beam, a habit I picked up in my free time. At this point, I don't even put my hands out at my sides. I’ve done this so much, I’m sure I could walk it with my eyes closed. I do close my eyes, basking in the complete silence that surrounds me. Silence that reminds me of the moments I was fighting Eraser Head, the moments where he took my quirk and my head was actually empty. Even now it’s not quite like that, there’s still a ringing in my ears and a hum in the back of my head like static over a radio channel. It’s never been completely quiet inside my head, it only ever fades to background noise, not like when I was with him, when he was staring at me so intensely. I know it’s because he couldn’t look away, because of his quirk, but part of it made me feel… wanted. No one has ever looked at me like that, with such incredible intensity in their eyes. I shake my head, feeling crazier than usual. There’s no way he could want me, no way that I’m not just pushing my own desires onto his actions, no way that I’m not just famished for someone to hold me in their arms like he had held me in his scarf. 

Now I know I’m acting foolish. His scarf? Really? He was attacking me, he was fighting me, he’s a hero goddammit. I should be hating him and working up ways to bring his demise, but instead I’m thinking about what it would be like to see him without his hostility, to watch his face as he slept, to see tears trail down his face, to see him begging on his knees. I want to see his vulnerability, surprisingly, without any intention of exploiting it. I just want to see him. I have to see him. I look down and realize I’m pacing. I shake myself again and head for a service tunnel that I’ve commandeered to become my little hideout. It’s really not much, but it’s all mine and 100% off the grid. Maintenance personnel don't even come down here. I’m completely alone and I love it. No prying eyes, no unwanted thoughts, just me and the cold concrete. It’s heavenly. 

I moved down here full time a few months after my sister died and it became clear that no one was fixing up the tunnels. My biological carrier, the woman I refuse to call my mother, had begun drinking immediately. Not that she was a stranger to alcohol before, but it had only gotten worse. Her drunk thoughts quickly became her sober thoughts and all of them had to do with me. Why my sister had died instead of me, why she was the one that had to be stuck with me, why she had to have been cursed with such a freakish child. One that cried all the time, one that split her head in two when they had a tantrum, one that couldn't even be put into daycare to protect the other children, one that put her husband in a vegetative state. I became nothing more than a burden to her, if there was any part of her that still loved me, loved me like a mother is supposed to, it was buried deeper in her mind than even I could find. 

The mental abuse wasn’t what broke me though, the neglect hadn’t done it either. It was the night she made me beg. She had drunk so much that I felt drunk, felt drunk off the vertigo thoughts she was pulsing out into the room. She stumbled into my room, slurring speech and telling me how ungrateful I was to have someone like her that would take such good care of me. I should have known better, should have been quiet like usual, but I scoffed at that. The wench barely even knew how to take care of herself, the notion honestly tickled me. That did her in. She lunged at me and threw me to the floor, smacking me in the face once on both cheeks. She rolled off of me and left the room as drunkenly as she had come in. I just layed there and cried, hoping she was done, but knowing she wasn’t. I heard the door creak and felt her grab me by the hair, shoving me into a dining chair. The confusion must have been evident on my face, because she hit me again and made quick work of tying me to the wooden chair. She left me there, tied up, for days. She made me beg for food. Beg for water. Beg to be cleaned after I had pissed myself. She made me apologize for everything I had ever done. She made me admit I was a monster, one that hurt people for fun, because I wanted to, not because I couldn’t control my quirk. I can see now how that narrative would be easier for her to stomach, having a person to blame instead of accepting the shitty facts of reality, but I was her child. I had been pure. She was supposed to love me, protect me.

I stop walking, letting my renewed hatred for that woman settle on my shoulders like a warm, heavy blanket. Resolve hardening my heart and warping the soft emotions I had just been there. I heave a sigh and reach into my jacket pocket again, feeling the flashdrive from before. This is what I need. File upon file of precious documents and information right here in the palm of my hand, information that now exists nowhere else. 

I start walking again, exhausted from today's events. There had been so many close calls. I’m still reeling from a couple of them, my head still not on fully straight. I make it to my little pad and flop down on the mattress I have tucked away in the corner. I unzip my boots and massage my feet a little, pulling them into my lap to sit lotus style. My laptop had been haphazardly tossed into my bed, so I reach over and plug it into the charging cable snaking from the wall, also pushing the little flashdrive into the side port and letting all the documents download. I curl into a ball on my mattress and flop to the side, I’m so tired and so hungry, I’m not sure what to do. I have no food here so I'm going to  have to go back up to the surface level, but it’s still too light out, I’ll wait until the sun has fully set then go stop by a street vendor. In the meantime however, I treat myself to a nap. I hadn’t realized how heavy my eyes were until my head hit the soft material of my bed. 

I’m not sure how much time has passed since I fell asleep, but I wake up to my computer beeping. The download is complete. I smile to myself and close the laptop, removing the flashdrive from the side, again not bothering to eject it. I push myself up into a sitting position and rub my hands over my entire face and into my hair, fully waking myself up some more. I look down at myself, still in my full clothes and sigh, I guess I had been far more tired than I thought. My mind drifts to the dream I was having before my eyes had peeled back open. I only really dream when I sleep hard, which isn’t often since I’ve basically ruined my REM cycles. In my dream, I was with Eraser Head again, but this time we weren’t fighting, not really. He still had me caught in that damn capture weapon, but I was completely naked, my body exposed at all the right points for him to reach out and grab me, hit me, bite me. The memory of how his scarf felt against my skin heats up my face, my body clenching tightly. How does he still do this to me? He’s not even near me. 

I run a hand down my neck, trying to calm myself. I can’t get all riled up because of some hero. Can I? Another flash from my dream breaks through to the forefront of my mind. Eraser Head has me by the jaw, his mouth so close to mine I would be able to feel his breath on my lip if it had been real. That’s when he sensually licks my plush bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and biting down softly, just enough to drive me crazy. Just enough for me to want more, to feel it in real life. I yell and pound my fist into the mattress. GET!! IT!! TOGETHER!! I launch myself onto my feet, tugging on my boots, determined to get his imagined ministrations out of my mind. I still need to eat anyway. The hunger tugging on my stomach and making it growl loudly, protesting the nap that had zapped away the rest of my evening. I look at my watch and groan, it's already past 9pm. 

I head back down the service tunnel that leads to my little crash pad, there’s a small, unpopular ramen stand I like to go to when it’s late. It's not the best bowl of ramen in the world, but it gets the job done and I’m not too picky when it comes to noodles in warm broth. The stand is right outside one of the stairwells into the underground platforms. The lights from the neon sign flicker dimly, it reads ‘OPEN to Business’. I slink down onto one of the stools and drop my money onto the counter, ordering a beef bowl. The man on the other side of the counter pours the broth and cuts vegetables before serving me the bowl with a small bow of his head. I return his formality before delving into the bowl. The soup smells better than usual, or maybe I’m just insanely hungry, either way the first bite leaves me melting into the bowl, hunched over, consuming the food at such a rate it would appear as if I hadn’t eaten in days. I hit the bottom of the white bowl in record time and slam down a few coins demanding more. The chef raises his eyebrow, but complies, almost over filling another bowl for me.

Hungry, ha? Good! Eat more!

I smile at him, actually warmed by his slight kindness, but it is soon forgotten as I begin slurping down noodles, beef, and cooked vegetables. I finish the second bowl almost as quickly as the first and slouch back, patting my very full belly. I was definitely hungrier than I realized. I sigh, content and sluggish as I slide off the side of the stool. I can’t help the light feeling in my chest as I shove my hands into my pockets. The moon is high in the sky and the night air is cool on my cheeks, it’s almost serene. I decide to take a little stroll, there’s another entrance to the platform a few blocks down, connecting to the other side of the service tunnel. I start my walk with casual steps, I’m not in a rush and I just want to breathe in the fresh air a little bit longer. There’s an empty orange soda can on the ground and I kick it with the inside of my foot, sending it skittering forward a few paces, stopping in a perfect place for me to kick it again. I continue kicking the can along with me as I walk, until I kick it a little too hard and it goes tumbling down into a storm drain. I shrug and round a corner, the can just a distraction anyways, something to fiddle with. I reach into my pocket and forget again that my marble isn't there. A prickle of nerves climbs up my arm and to the back of my neck, making my hair follicles stand on end. 

Suddenly alert, I tense my shoulders and scan the area, looking above me as well this time, I won’t be taken out from the rooftops again, but still I see nothing. The air around me has shifted. It’s no longer peaceful and delicate, it’s eerie and cold, sending a shiver through me again, the anxiety making me even more jumpy as I hear little sounds around me. Nothing out of the ordinary, city sounds, but it all gets to me, sending my heart rate in an upward spike. I start to run, unsure of where to go. I can feel someone, but where? It’s driving me crazy. I know there’s someone. I know it, but the absolute lack of a presence is what’s really fucking me up. An ubiquitous white flash darts out at me from the dark. I dodge quickly, leaning back so far my head barely misses slamming into the concrete below me. There’s another flash and I throw my legs out from underneath me, catching myself in a near handstand before flinging myself backwards again, still unsure of where the flashes are coming from. 

Before I can land back on my feet, I see it, a dark figure blur by me from the corner of my eye. I don’t know what or who it is, but my first instinct is to whip around and try to use my quirk, still only barely sure of the figure’s location. When I spin around, I’m immediately bombarded by two sensations. First, is the clarity in my brain that only comes when Eraser Head is muting my quirk. The second, is the heat that grows in my stomach when I realize exactly who I’m up against. My chest flushes, and my thoughts flash back to my dream, the way he had halfway kissed me. That’s all the distraction he needs to scoop me up in his capture weapon and have me dangling upside down from the nearest street pole. 

Seeing him from this angle is different as the blood starts to rush to my head, making me feel dizzy. I thrash around a little, to no avail, before allowing myself to give up, feeling too sluggish from my meal anyways. Even if I manage to get out of this coil I could barely expect to actually get away. Eraser Head slowly saunters up to my upside down body, rocking from side to side, he looks menacing and my body clenches tight again. Gezzus fuck, this man is hot. “You wanted to see me again. That’s what you said, isn’t it?” He pulls the goggles covering his eyes up unto his forehead and I can see his whole face. There’s a scar underneath his eye that I hadn’t seen before, it marks his skin beautifully and I can’t help but imagine what he looked like with the fresh wound, blood running down his face. I bet it was gorgeous. He’s a striking figure on his own, but covered in blood? I gulp heavily, the downward gravity making it hard. Eraser bends his knees, squatting down so we’re on an even eye level, his are still glowing red and I’m reeling from the proximity. He’s so close. He’s right there. I could reach out and grab him if my arms weren’t strung up to my sides. 

I can’t touch him, but he’s still close enough for me to throw my head back, letting the momentum force me back down to collide my skull with his. I hear a crunch and feel warm blood trickle up my face from my nose, it's in my mouth too. Eraser stumbles back, not prepared for a headbutt. It’s true what they say, no one wins in a headbutt, but it feels like a win as I see a small trail of blood coming from his forehead, it’s so much hotter that it’s my blood. He looks even better than I had imagined, of course he does. My skull is pulsing already and my quirk is returned to me as he tries to steady himself. He does, quicker than I had hoped. My head is still splitting and I don't have enough time to regain myself before he’s taking my quirk again. Damn, he’s good. I chuckle to myself, licking the blood from my lips. This is actually kind of fun. Eraser Head looks down at me again, gripping my hair tightly now to keep me from moving again. His eyes are wild, his jaw tight. It’s taking all of him not to beat the living shit out of me. I can tell. 

Then his expression changes and he looks mischievous, teasing even. The slight confusion I have is short lived before he yanks my head forward, my neck craned at an awkward angle to look directly up at him. “My turn.” He says, dropping my head so I’m swinging back and forth again, only able to see him every couple seconds. He takes a step back and I see him poise himself for a second, spinning into a roundhouse kick that connects with my temple and knocks me out cold.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

THINGS ARE DEF GONNA START HEATING UP FROM HERE!!!! stay tuned hehe XD

[gwen-of-myth]

Horribly Wrong, Bad, Terrible Choices (But I Don’t Regret a Thing): Chapter Two

It’s the next day now, and Stiles is all nerves. He didn’t get much sleep, too worried about messing up his dinner. The dinner he has tonight. With Peter fucking Hale.

Oh, shit, what has Stiles gotten himself into?

He checks his phone, seeing a text from dad asking about how school is going, and then one from Peter, that says “Good morning, sweetheart.”

Stiles sends off a “School is good, just a lot of homework. Love you” text and then falters when he opens up the text from Peter again. A single text has no right to make him feel so happy. It’s just a good morning text, people send those all the time.

But still. He’s getting emotions about it.

Stiles: Mornin creeperwolf

He gets ready for the day gradually, starting a pot of coffee and listening to a video game soundtrack while he takes a shower.

He turns the water off when he’s done and checks his phone while he towel dries his hair with one hand.

Peter: Did you sleep well, sweet boy?

Stiles: No, but that’s okay. Usually don’t anyways

Peter: Now that won’t do.

His phone is suddenly ringing. He curses and throws his towel down. Stiles hits the accept button and puts it on speaker, licking his lips nervously.

“H-Hello?”

“Stiles,” Peter purrs into the phone, making him nearly drop it. Fuck, but his voice is smooth and sultry.

And there’s a problem. Before, Peter never really effected him like this. Not because Stiles never noticed Peter’s smokin hot bod (you’d have to be blind) but because Stiles feels like yesterday some part of him clicked in place. Like there was some mysterious piece of the puzzle of Stiles that Peter has, and he can’t get enough of it. It makes his knees weak and his head kind of fuzzy, almost like...

“Dear boy, are you listening?”

Stiles’s cheeks flush. Peter had been talking. Oops.

“Sorry.”

There’s a hum in his ear, and it’s unreal how just that one sound causes his whole body to erupt in goosebumps. Plus, the pet names Peter keeps calling them? It makes him feel cherished. Seen. And a little frustrated that he can’t explain his emotions upon hearing them better, even to himself. It’s just so much. Peter is so much, in a good way now.

“You’re okay, darling boy. I was just asking when your shift started.”

He licks his lips and looks at the clock.

“Uh, two. I get off at ten, but I have to finish an essay today...so I should probably start on that soon.”

“Responsible. Well, how about I pick you up at about eleven. Would that be enough time for you, and do you have plans for tomorrow as well? I don’t want to be the reason you’re kept up late. Not if you have somewhere to be tomorrow.”

He’s nodding, then the flush returns from before when he remembers Peter can’t see.

“More than enough. I...”

He hesitates.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

He catches the whine that tries to slip out of his throat then.

“I don’t have any plans for tomorrow. Well, maybe some homework in advance, but no work or anything. And. I’m excited. For tonight, I mean.”

He’s not sure why he says that. It’s not like it’s a date, it’s just. Dinner. Does he sound to desperate? Does—

“So am I. I’ve had my eyes on you for quite some time now, truth be told.”

“Really,” Stiles breathes, preening a bit. The anxiety from seconds before is seeping away.

“Of course. I don’t offer the bite to just anybody.”

“What about Scott?”

“That was obviously poor judgement with an altered state of mind. He’s a child who has no qualifications or instincts to competently lead a pack. I could have got a squirrel who’d do better. You, though...”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You have the loyalty and can make the hard decisions without seeing in black and white. There is no such thing as pure and good, just lesser evil. You’d be a natural.”

“I...still don’t want it. To be a werewolf.”

“No matter. You’re beautiful as you are.”

They talk for a while longer, Stiles getting more comfortable the longer they do. The frustration from yesterday is already melting away just from Peter’s voice.

It’s a shame he has to write his paper. When they hang up, it’s with Peter saying, “Have a good day at work, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.”

It sends a nice warmth through him, like a big hug. Which abruptly ends later when he parks in front of Café Luna and sees the huge line inside. A rush. Dammit.

It isn’t the worst work day, though, and he has dinner with Peter to look forward to. Stiles’s boss, thankfully, doesn’t mind him making an iced coffee for himself and then he’s energized and doesn’t even flinch when he spills the sticky French vanilla flavoring all over himself.

His shift ends, eventually—thankfully—and he’s on his way home to shower and change. Which, uh...oh god, what is he gonna wear? Stiles has no clue. He prays to whatever god that is listening that he doesn’t look like a complete idiot tonight.

“Why do I care what I wear? It’s just dinner. Not a date. The opposite of a date, whatever that is,” he mumbles to himself.

Stiles showers quickly, mostly just washing off the sweat of the day and humming the doctor who theme that’s been stuck in his head on and off for about a week.

Then he looks in his closet and chooses dark wash skinny jeans and a long black dress shirt that he rolls the sleeves up a little on, to show his arms off a little. He messes with his hair a little, slicking it back with some styling gel Lydia forced upon him. When Stiles steps back and looks at the final result, he doesn’t think he looks bad.

It’s weird how he cares what Peter thinks of him now.

Punctual as ever, when the clock strikes eleven, there’s a knock on the door that makes Stiles perk up. He forces himself to open the door before he overthinks it, and finds himself closer to Peter than he expected to be.

He goes to jump back, startled, but Peter’s arm reaches out and pulls him in for a hug. Stiles melts into it.

“How do you feel about motorcycles?”

His head shoots up, finally taking in Peter’s appearance. He’s wearing a white shirt, casual and soft looking, which is contrasted by the leather jacket draped over it.

“I’ve never rode on one before.”

There’s a gentle look on Peter’s face.

“Would you like to tonight?”

“I—okay. Sure.”

Peter seems pleased with him, and he feels lighter, somehow. Peter leads him to the motorcycle, and picks up a helmet from the seat. He gives it to Stiles expectantly.

He puts it on over his head and fumbles with the straps until Peter knocks his hands away and does it for him. Stiles blushes, avoiding his eyes until Peter is done.

“Get behind me,” Peter orders, slinging a leg over the bike and gesturing behind him. “And hold tight, sweetheart.”

The ride is nice, if a bit scary. His knuckles are white with holding Peter, but even the fear is exhilarating. And, it’s pretty. Everything looks so close. It’s different than riding a car.

When they arrive, Stiles hops off with shaky legs, but he’s grinning wide.

“It’s like a roller coaster! Only no seatbelt and a werewolf steering.”

Peter chuckles, and then he’s unfastening the helmet and setting it back on the bike.

“You’ll get used to it eventually, dear boy. Come, dinner is ready for us.”

Stiles can’t help the warmth of want that goes through him when he hears Peter order him to come, even if it was meant to be innocent. He follows obediently, and they go up an elevated to Peter’s apartment.

It’s...nice. Everything in it looks pricey, but Peter always did have expensive taste. The food is already on the table, with a bottle of red wine and everything.

“I just took it off the stove when I went to pick you up,” Peter starts, picking up the bottle and pouring himself a glass. “so it should still be warm.”

“It looks so good. I’m famished.”

Between schoolwork and his job, there wasn’t a lot of time to eat. He had breakfast, but that’s pretty much it. Stiles can’t complain too much, though.

Sure, he’s exhausted and kind of hungry most of the time and usually stressed, but at least he can be. At least he has the opportunity to go to college. So he won’t be ungrateful. Even when it sucks.

He sits down eagerly, and when he puts the first forkful in his mouth, he has to close his eyes and moan. Fuck, it’s good.

Stiles opens his eyes and sees Peter staring, eyes dark. He coughs to try to cover the sound, covering his mouth and averting his eyes.

“It’s really good.”

Peter looks amused.

“I’m glad you like it. Can I get you some water, Stiles?”

He thinks for a sec, then decides, screw it. All or nothing.

“Actually, I’d like some of that wine, please.”

At Peter’s incredulous gaze, he scoffs.

“What? I’m old enough. You don’t even get drunk and you’re drinking it.”

“I like the taste of it. Normally, I’d pour you a glass myself, but there are things we should talk about that we just can’t if you aren’t sober. That is why we’re here. Well, that reason and that I enjoy providing for pack.”

Stiles licks his lips.

“Before we talk about whatever you want to talk about...is this a date? I don’t want to assume, but. It’s been bothering me. All of this is throwing me off and I’m already stressed and it’s so up and down...”

He shakes his head.

“I don’t want to get messed with. I don’t need someone to try to distract me from school when I’m already doing my best.”

Peter’s nodding along, and it gives Stiles some confidence that he isn’t angry. He doesn’t know why Peter would be in the first place, but. Anxiety.

“If you don’t want this to be a date, it doesn’t have to be. I’d like it very much if this was a date, though. Smart boy, that’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Stiles’s eyes widen.

“It was?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I have a proposition for you. I adore your intellect and the way you feel in my arms, and I think we’re very compatible.”

“You do?”

Stiles is dumbstruck by all of this. Peter wants to date him? Since when? He tries to swallow down the insecurities bubbling up.

“Absolutely. Both personality wise, and... Stiles, did you know you’re a submissive,” Peter asks, tone unreadable.

He flinches, nerves back, anxiety spiraling.

“I-I’m not. What does that even have to with our compatibility?”

Peter hums, sipping his wine.

“I’m a very dominant man, Stiles. I like providing guidance for my partner and taking control. Some of it is my wolf. But I think other reasons might have to do with the fire, and losing pack. And even more reason is because I’d love to watch you choke on my cock while I tell you what a good boy you’re being for Daddy,” Peter rumbles, tilting his head and flashing his eyes an icy blue.

Stiles sputters, ears turning tomato red. But even worse, his cock is throbbing with need now. Peter couldn’t know what he did last night, could he?

He wants to die when he sees Peter inhale, surely smelling his desire.

“Of course, I’d love to provide for you in other ways too. I know you aren’t eating or sleeping well, and a lot of that stress is from your job.”

“I like my job,” Stiles says defensively. “It’s just hard because of school.”

“You’re running yourself too thin, boy. So if we were to be in a relationship, even if you said no to the daddy/boy dynamic—and I doubt you will, you’d be the perfect boy—I would have you quit your job and provide you a weekly allowance.”

All of this is making Stiles’s head spin. He likes what he hears a lot, though. This could all be an elaborate trick, he tries to tell himself. And yet he’s still tempted. He can just see what Peter’s describing, and he wants it. Badly.

“Say we did...do this. What would my weekly spending money be?”

Peter taps his fingers against the table for a moment.

“To start? Five hundred, give or take. I’d ask for all your bill information from the past few months so I know what your regular spending habits are and build upon that. I want you to be happy and taken care of, always.”

He blinks. That’s...very reasonable. More than, really.

“And for everything else...?”

Peter’s eyebrow quirks.

“What about everything else?”

Fair. He bites his lip, thinking for a sec.

“What if I want the rest of what you talked about? The dating...and calling you Daddy stuff?”

He wants to die from embarrassment, but feels oddly proud when Peter looks at him like he’s done something big.

“Then we’ll talk it over and that’s what we’ll do. You’ll be my boy and I’ll be your Daddy.”

It feels like a dream, but it’s definitely reality when he starts nodding and Peter calls him a good boy.

[kookscrescent]

Mile High (m) │ knj

➤ pairing│Namjoon x female reader ➤ summary│You’re a nervous flyer, but your boyfriend seems to find a way to help distract you from the fact that you are 35.000 feet in the air.  ➤ rating│NC-17, mature, 18+ ➤ genre│smut, fluff, boyfriend au, idol au ➤ warnings│protected sex, bathroom sex on a private jet, a tiny bit of dirty talk, slight mentions of anxiety (nothing major i promise! - mainly the fear of flying), semi public sex, joining the mile high club ➤ word count│5.3k│semi edited ➤ release date│January 3rd 2020 ➤ disclaimer│This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

⇥ Masterlist

A small but audible ding sounds throughout the cabin, indicating that it is okay for everyone to unbuckle their safety belts. Everyone around you does just that. The various clicking noises from the buckles flying through the air.

You make no move to undo yours.

The person beside you stirs, turning his body towards you. “It’s safe to unbuckle now,” Namjoon tells you quietly. His voice soothing to the nerves cursing through your body. “Are you still feeling nervous?” He goes on to ask you.

You nod. You face turning to him and being met with the gentlest of smiles. “That’s understandable. It’s your first time in a private jet… it’s smaller than a normal plane so its normal to be nervous.”

Nervous is a bit of an understatement. You are a nervous flyer in general. Every time you have to get on a plane your entire body stiffens, your toes and fingers begin to tingle and your breathing becomes erratic. More often than not, you need a person with you to help you calm down or else you are sure to have a panic attack.

And the fact that your boyfriend has just dragged you on to a small private jet just doubles all of those feelings. It would have been fine if it was just you and Namjoon traveling alone, but it’s not. You are joined by the rest of the group, and you don’t want to cause any trouble for them or be a burden by showing your anxiety about flying. You know your anxiety is “mild” compared to what some people experience and go through, so you did the best you could to try and push it aside. That led to you not saying anything in fear that your breathing would go haywire and instead you tried to keep busy by eating.

Namjoon of course noticed that you weren’t being your usual self. Normally, you are so talkative that he sometimes has to shut you up by dragging you away from a conversation or else you could go on for days. So seeing you act differently made him stay close to you. He questioned why you were acting differently and for that you are thankful, because you honestly don’t think you would have been able to give him an answer without shedding a few tears.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper feeling like you need to apologize.

Namjoon frowns, “You don’t ever have to be sorry for fearing something!” His voice has dropped an octave. It’s his serious voice. “The mere fact that you are facing one of your fears is admirable!” He tells you and softly brushes a piece of hair away from your forehead.

“Thank you,” you murmur and he presses a quick kiss to your lips.

Feeling like Namjoon has giving you some strength with his words, you reach and unbuckle the safety belt.

“There…” you say mostly to yourself but Hoseok, who is sitting directly opposite you, hears you as well and he offers you a smile.

“Nervous flyer?” He asks.

“Yeah…”

“Don’t worry, the flight will be over before you even know it.” Hoseok tries to ease your nerves, but you know it’s easier said than done. You still have 10 and a half hours left before you land in New York and there really isn’t much for you to do to distract yourself when you are 35.000 feet in the air.

You could try watching a movie like Jimin and Jin are doing, or you could pull out your book from your bag and make an attempt at reading a few chapters, but you know none of that will work. It usually never does.

You could always try to sleep the hours off… but that will result in the hell of jet lag when you eventually land.

You could ask Namjoon to listen to some music with you? At the idea you glance next to you, seeing him pull out his small notebook and pen and his headphones – he’s going to work on writing lyrics.

Your stomach sinks but you can’t help but admire him. No matter where he is or what he is doing, he finds the time to work.

Heavily you sigh and slump back into the comfortable seat. You really don’t want to disturb him when he is writing, knowing that once he gets in the zone, he like to stay in it until he himself pulls out of it.

Guess you will just have to settle on staring into the air for now. You can do that for a bit, and it will give you some time to try and calm your nerves as well.

Closing your eyes you try to relax. You try to think of a happy memory and instantly you land on the first time you and Namjoon met. Two years ago, to be exact, you met him by accident at a small bookstore in Seoul. You were on the haunt for a novel to read but the one you really wanted was up to high on a shelf you couldn’t reach.

Enter Namjoon coming to your rescue. He had noticed you from a distance, struggling to reach the book by yourself and decided to help you. He had been so quiet walking up to you that you hadn’t heard him and didn’t even notice him until he was right behind you reaching past you to get the book.

Startled, you had turned around coming face to face with his collarbones. He handed you the book with the most handsome smile you have ever seen on a person and instantly your hands started shaking as you took the book from his grasp.

At the time you didn’t recognize him and he later told you that that was the reason why he didn’t venture far away after giving you the book. He had been curious and wanted to get to know you more, but he had been too nervous to ask you out after just having met you. He was afraid of coming off as a creep.

After that he had quietly retreated to his seat but you would be lying if you said that you hadn’t been stealing a couple glances his way and one time your eyes even met and you had been so embarrassed and went to hide on the other side of the store.

But after a while Namjoon had found you again, sitting against one of the shelves with the book open in your hands. He had finally gathered courage to ask you out, and that is exactly what he did.

You smile at the memory. Clearly remembering being sceptic when he had asked you out for a coffee. You weren’t really into the whole idol scene and you still didn’t recognize him, so to you it all seemed a little… weird? You have never been one to get asked out by guys you’ve just met before, but despite everything your parents have told you about strangers, you eventually accepted his invitation for coffee.

And now two years later, here- *thud*!

You are immediately brought back to the present time in the small cabin when the plane abruptly lowers. Your heart instantly starts to beat faster and your hands grip onto the seat for dear life.

Namjoon senses your change in posture and drops the pen in his hand and turns to you. Grabbing your hand in his, he tries to calm you down. “It’s just a little turbulence.” He continuously strokes the skin on your hand with his thumb – creating a little comfort in your body knowing that he understands. Slowly you start to relax again.

“I know, I know… I just,” breathing deeply you try to find words to justify how you are feeling, but truth is you know that it’s just turbulence, but your mind immediately goes into panic mode. “I need to find a way to distract myself.”

Namjoon switches his hold on your hand to interlacing your fingers. “What about watching a movie?” He suggests.

You smile, “That usually never works. I can never seem to focus enough on the movie to actually distract myself.” You tell him, the corners of your lips turning down to a frown. “Same goes for reading a book.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We can talk and listen to some music together.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt you when you were writing.”

“Screw that!” He says and makes a show of closing his notebook. “I don’t have a deadline and I already have more than enough songs and melodies written for the next three albums. You are not feeling well so I would rather use my time trying to get you mind off all your worries.”

You can’t help but shy away from his eyes. The way he looks at you so adoringly when saying this has your stomach whirling with butterflies of the good kind. How you ever came to deserve being with someone as perfect as Namjoon is beyond you.

“No Joon, it’s fine… really, I don’t wa-“

“I’ve got it.” He suddenly lowers his voice so only you can hear him – even though everyone else is too occupied doing their own thing or sleeping.

“Go to the bathroom and wait for me there,” he whispers, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’ll knock six times so you will know its me.”

“What? Why?” You question.

“Just go.”

He makes a maneuver to pull your hand up and your body automatically follows. Standing from your seat you, you step past Namjoon and scurry down the narrow pathway between the seats and the rest of the boys. No one seems to take any care in it, probably thinking that you are just going to use the restroom. To say that you are confused is an understatement.

When you get to the bathroom, you double check that it is vacant before going inside. You gasp as the door closes behind you. This has got to be the most spacious and luxurious airplane bathroom you have ever seen! You could fit like ten people in here!

Wow!

“There’s a shower?!” You gasp with no one to answer you.

In awe, amazed at today’s technology as you step further inside the bathroom, trying to understand the concept of putting such a bathroom in a small jet. Either you are really stupid, or your brain is too wrapped around your anxiety and is drained from energy because you can’t seem to wrap your brain around this. You would be afraid to even sit on the toilet!

Footsteps emerge from the other side of the door shortly after and you wait. Someone begins knocking.

*knock* *knock* *knock* *knock* *knock*

You wait for the sixth knock before opening the door…

… *knock*

Namjoon slips through the open door, carefully making sure to lock it behind him. You stare at him in confusion, your brows knit together.

“Well?” you ask him expectantly.

“I know how to make you think of something else.”

“Okay… how?” You aren’t really sure what being in the bathroom has to do with that.

After a few moments of silence he answers you with a sly smile on his lips, “Let’s have sex.”

“W-What?” you stutter.

“Let’s have sex.” He repeats and steps closer to you.

“We’re on a plane Namjoon!” You whisper harshly, afraid that someone will walk by the door and hear you.

“So? Lots of people have sex on planes,” he tells you with no care. “It will help you take your mind off of things for a while.”

“Yes but… but the guys are right outside that door!” you sharply point to the closed door. Surely they would be able to hear every single sound you were to make in here. Right? “They’ll hear us!”

“So what? Do you honestly think they haven’t already heard us at the dorm?”

“Oh my god,” you murmur in embarrassment.

Namjoon takes two steps and your chests come in contact. He gently backs you up against the sink and rests his hands on your hips. “Have you never been the slightest bit curious to what it’s like having sex on a plane, huh?” he places a kiss just below your ear, his soft lips tickling your skin. Your hands find his wrists for support. “I can help you baby – another kiss – let me help you forget.” His voice has turned to a hoarse whisper, his words rolling through your body like an electric current.

“But they’ll he-“

He shushes you with a kiss to your lips. He lingers there for a moment letting you feel him before he pulls away. “Stop thinking about them,” he whispers, “right now it’s just you and I… okay?”

Even though he has worked himself into a hot mess, Namjoon waits for your confirmation to proceed, and only when you nod and a softly whispered yes follows, does he reconnect your lips.

Barely grazing your lips, he gently lures you in and as your lips become one all your previous worries seem to fade to the back of your mind. Moving together in sync, you move your hands from his wrists to the back of his neck where you bury your fingers in his soft locks.

He has been growing out his hair lately, and you must say that you agree with the decision!

Gradually, your kiss grows heavier. Every breath gets mingled and Namjoon’s hands travel from your hips and down your thighs. Carefully, he lifts you and sets you down on the counter space behind you.

At this angle you can fully bring him to you, your chests smushing together and you wrap your legs around his narrow waist.

His hands never rest – this time cupping both sides of your jaw to tilt your head to the side. The kiss gets heavier. You tongue is battling with his for dominance but in the end, you just give up and let him win. You like it when he takes the lead anyways.

Parting from your lips, he showers you in wet pecks down the side of your left cheek, across your jaw and down your neck, till he reaches your collarbone. There he gently bites the skin and the slight sting it leaves behind is quickly soothed by his tongue.

Moving his lips up again, he settles on a spot just below your jaw. Your sweet spot. Namjoon knows fully well that this spot makes you see stars, and of course he doesn’t waste any time in making your head spin by sucking on the tender skin there.

You gasp. The grip you have on his hair tightening and you crane your neck to allow him better access.

All your previous thoughts and worries are flying out of the door one by one with each suck and kiss to your neck. After two years of being in a relationship, Namjoon knows your body in and out – sometimes you even wonder if he knows your body better than you do. The possibility is there!

You are so distracted by your own thoughts, that you don’t even register Namjoon undoing the string on your sweatpants until his hand is already down the front of your pants – his fingers skimming over the front of your panties.

You already know where he is headed with this, “Namjoon we don’t have time for that,” you gaspingly tell him.

But he just ignores you. His fingers continuing to skim over your soaked panties… once, twice… before he pushes them aside to allow his fingers to feel your wetness. Doing your best, you attempt to hold back the groan that is threatening to leave you throat.

Despite everything you are still well aware that more than a handful of people are on the other side of the door, and they will most likely be able to hear you moaning if you don’t hold back.

He rises from the spot on your neck, your eyes connecting and exchanging a heated look before he slots his lips over yours in a lazy kiss. Two of his fingers have found their way through your soaked slit and down to your equally if not even more soaked entrance. Automatically, you are clenching around nothing but air, waiting for them moment when his fingers enter you.

You were so against the idea of having sex in an airplane bathroom only minutes ago, but with each kiss, each touch and each breath, you are becoming more and more desperate.

“Namjoon,” you whine, breaking your kiss as a rushed breath fills the room when he finally enters you with two of his fingers.

He gives you no time to adjust to the intrusion. His fingers quickly working up a rhythm that leaves you short for breath. Clinging on to him, your hands fisting in his hair and his t shirt, you bite down on his shoulder when he brings his thumb into the mix. He works it over your clit in soft circles and he slows down the pace of his fingers to match.

He slants his other hand over your clothed breast, squeezing and massaging – a pleasure added to the already burning euphoria rushing through your body. You groan, “Please,” you whisper without really knowing what you want.

You lock eyes, “What is it baby?” he breaths, planting a kiss on the corner of your lips. Down south his fingers never seize – working you softly and slowly.  

“You!” your entire body is heavy with the desire for him to do something, anything! “Just…You!”

He responds, not with words, but by looking deep into your eyes while he begins scissoring his fingers inside of you. With every push he can feel you clenching around his digits, your body craving his touch. Curling his fingers upward, he hit a tender spot that has you seeing white and the moan that escapes is inevitable.

“God, I love the sounds you make, but you have to keep it to a minimum baby.”

“I’m – ugh fuuck – I’m not going to last much longer!” you desperately mumble, trying to hold on to him as the pleasure fills you from head to toe.

The tension is building in your stomach, and your hips carelessly buck against his hand trying to create more friction to set off your orgasm. And just as the tension is about to snap, Namjoon pulls away from you completely. You whine, closing your eyes and aimlessly trying to pull him back to you.

“Why?!”

He chuckles as he battles with your fumbling hands, trying to undo his pants. “Don’t you want the real deal baby?” you nod before he is even done asking the question and no sooner do you hear the faint sound of his pants pooling around his ankles.

“Hop down and turn around,” he instructs, reaching for the condom that lays next to the sink. You hadn’t even noticed it laying there until now.

With shaky legs, you hop off the counter and automatically your sweatpants slide down your legs and you kick them off when they reach your feet. Hooking your thumbs in the side of your panties, you slide them off as well.  

Behind you, you hear the familiar sound of foil ripping and Namjoon seethes himself with the latex, “Don’t wanna make a mess,” he says and steps up behind you, his hands grabbing your ass to pull you against him.

You can feel his hard erection pressing against you, the latex somewhat of a disappointment, but he is right – now is not the time to make a mess.

“Please,” you whimper, your eyes connecting in the mirror in front of you.

“Please what? What do you want?”

“You. Please, just… I need you.”

Namjoon’s eyes drop to where he is fisting himself, giving his cock a few pumps before he lightly shifts and pushes the head inside of your waiting entrance. Already, you are tensing around him, making it harder for him to push inside fully, but with two sharp thrusts, he seethes himself fully.

Both of you groan in unison when he hits home, and Namjoon has to calm himself with a deep breath and concentrate hard on not coming on the spot. You are clenching and unclenching around his cock like crazy. You didn’t know the extent of your desperation and need, but your body is clearly speaking for itself.

Slowly, he starts a rhythm. A rhythm that stretches you out so perfectly and each subsequent stroke is making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You whimper his name a little too loud and you bite your lip. But the shame that was starting to fill your body quickly washes away with the look of pure lust and love Namjoon sends you through the mirror.

Namjoon pulls you flush against his chest. One of his arms reaching around your shoulder to your chest to keep you upright. With the same hand he grabs your breast, while the other sneaks down your body to the place where you are connected. His nimble fingers quickly find your clit, drawing quick circles over it.

You can already feel the telltales of your orgasm. “Are you gonna cum around my cock?” Namjoon whispers against your ear, his hot breath sending tingles down your spine.

“Yeah!” You erratically nod and drop your head back against his shoulder.

“Good girl,” he praises.

He speeds up. His hips snapping against your ass and the sound of skin on skin filling the bathroom. His fingers speed up too, matching the rhythm of his cock pounding in and out of your heat. He is drawing whimper after whimper from your lips and they gradually become louder as he keeps going.

Needing you to keep quiet, he moves his hand from your breast to cover your mouth. With the immense pleasure cursing through your body, your legs feel like jelly and you desperately try to hold on to anything in reach to not fall.

With one final punching thrust, your muffled whimpers turn to moans and you crash into euphoria. You are shaking wildly in Namjoon’s arms as he rides you through the waves, his cock nor his fingers on your clit seizing their movements.

Gasping for air, you slump forward onto the cold counter space, as Namjoon chases after his own orgasm – his cock continuously pounding you. Every muscle inside of you is vibrating, clenching and unclenching from the aftershock of your orgasm.

“Fuuuuck,” you hear him hiss before his head drops to your shoulder and his warm seeds fills up the condom. “Shit!”Namjoon rests his forehead on your back as he comes down, trying to catch his breath.

Eventually, he pulls away and slips from your heat. Instantly you miss the fell of him inside of you, the stretch and the way he fills you up.

You close your eyes as you bask in the post orgasm feelings. Every inch of you feels warm, your eyelids heavy and your heart full. If you had been in a bed right now, you would have turned around and cuddled all night long.

Faintly, you hear Namjoon throwing away the condom and pulling on his pants, “Are you okay?” he gently asks you when you make no move to move from your position.

With your eyes still closed, you nod, “Yeah…”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at your fucked-out state. With your pants and underwear around your ankles and the lazy smile on your lips. You look too adorable for him to handle!

“Come on you,” he coos.

You protest when he gently peels you back to stand up. “You can’t stay in here forever,” he tells you and end up laughing when you pout.

He presses a kiss to your pouting lips before helping you clean up and get dressed. The hole time you pout. In this moment you are feeling so at ease and so relaxed that you don’t want to go back out there in case any previous feelings come back.

Running his thumb over the frown between your brows, Namjoon pulls you in for a hug.

“You smell like sex,” you say, your comment muffled against his shirt.

His chest shakes with laughter, “Yeah, well so do you,” releasing you, he reaches past you, “here, use this.”

“What is it?” you ask, taking the small perfume like bottle from him.

“It’s air freshener.”

“You’re kidding!” you deadpan. “You want me to spray air freshener on myself?”

“And on me.”

“Ew!”

“Oh come on,” he takes the bottle from your hands and sprays himself three times. “It’s either this or go back out there smelling like sex.”

Reluctantly, you take the bottle and give yourself a few sprays. It doesn’t smell bad – it leaves a sort of fresh and foresty smell lingering behind. But now you just smell like you’ve been in the woods camping for a week.

It’s better than smelling like sex, you guess.

“Ready to go out?” he asks.

“In a second,” you reply and turn to the mirror. The reflection that greets you is somewhat of a mess. Smoothing your hands down your hair you try to tame the stray pieces. Fortunately, you opted to not wear any makeup this morning, so you don’t have to worry about your mascara sitting halfway down your face or your foundation being smudge.

“Now I’m ready,” you say when you realize that this is as good as it’s going to get at this point.

With a bowed head you follow Namjoon back to your seats. No one looks up in curiosity when you both sit back down, everyone still occupied with their own things or sleeping. Maybe no one noticed you were both gone.

You sneak a look around the cabin, Jin is still watching a movie but Jimin alongside with Yoongi has fallen asleep. Jimin’s headphones are still in his ears and his feet are tugged under neat him. Jungkook is also asleep, stretched out on the seat in front of Jin. You can lightly hear him snoring. Cute.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok when you turn back. You don’t know why, but your cheeks instantly heat up. Maybe it’s because he is the only one that is not wearing any headphones? There could be a good chance that he heard what went down in the bathroom just seconds ago.

“Are you feeling any better?” he surprises you by asking.

“I-I am, thank you.”

“Good,” his innocent smile makes you feel a little more at ease. Without any further words he returns to the writing in the notebook in front of him.

Leaning back in your seat, you feel more relaxed than when you first sat down. Namjoon was right. The sex really did help you take your mind off of things and has helped you feel more comfortable.

Next to you, Namjoon offers you a bottle of water which you gladly accept and chuck about half of it before setting it down.

“Thirsty?” Namjoon quirks amused.

“Shut up,” you lightly push his shoulder with yours and hide your face behind your hair.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” he asks.

Shaking your head, you decline his offer, “No, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you nod with a smile. “I’m gonna try and read my book.”

Namjoon accepts your explanation and takes the headphones for himself. Within seconds he begins jotting down lyrics on the white paper in front of him.

You pull your book from you bag. It’s a book you’ve only just started reading, and you don’t know how far you will get on this flight, but you might as well give it a try now that your body and mind seems to not focus so much on being 35.000 feet in the air.

You are only a few sentences into the book when Jungkook stirs awake on the other side of the aisle. His sleepy figure sitting up and rubbing his eyes from sleep. He looks around, almost confused, before he stands and walks the path to the bathroom.

With wide eyes, your stomach drops. What is you left something behind in there? Did you remember to put on your panties?! Yes, yes! You remembered! Thank god! Shit! What did Namjoon do with the condom? No, he would obviously have thrown that in the bin!

You tell yourself that there is no need to worry so much and you focus back on your book, turning a page and starting on a new chapter.

Minutes later Jungkook comes trudging back, his face a little paler than before. He comes to a stop in the middle of the aisle, right next to Namjoon’s seat.

Jungkook looks at Namjoon waiting for him to look back up at him and when he eventually does Jungkook speaks, “The next time you have sex in the bathroom remember to throw away the used condom properly.”

Red! Your entire face goes as red as a tomato! Namjoon didn’t throw away the condom?!

“Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles slightly embarrassed. “Did you…?”

“No I did not!” Jungkook shrieks in disgust, and on a laugh Namjoon leaves his seat to go take care of the situation in the bathroom.

You are left behind, mortified and you wish there was some way for you to hide, but for now you can only settle on hiding behind your hair. You don’t dare look around you, but you can feel both Jungkook and Hoseok’s eyes on you as you continue to remain silent.

“Decided to join the mile high club huh?” It’s Hoseok’s bemused voice that fills the silence just as Namjoon returns.

“I…”

“Stop embarrassing her Hoseok,” Namjoon tells him trying to sound stern, but you still catch the slight smirk in his voice. “It was my idea.”

You turn to the comfort of your boyfriend. Burying your face in his shoulder as you let your face cool down. You can feel his shoulder shaking with laughter.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you?!” you ask pulling away.

He tries, but fails to not laugh, “A little bit.”

“You’re mean,” you pout with your arms crossed over your chest.

“It’s not that big of a deal babe,” he assures you. He pulls your arms from your chest to hug you closer to him. Your pout remains on your lips as you continue to sulk in embarrassment. “Everyone has sex.”

“Who is having sex?” Everyone turns to Jin who has finished his movie and is now joining your conversation.

“Joon and ____ had sex in the bathroom and forgot to throw away the condom.” Hoseok tells him.

“Ew!” Jin comments with a scrunched nose.

“And Jungkook found it.”

“Ew!” Jin repeats.

“Guys…” you whine. You don’t know whether to cry or laugh at this.

Namjoon repeats his previous words, “It’s no big deal ____.”

Obviously, you know that, but it’s still embarrassing to have one of his members – one of your friends – find the condom you used and call you out for it in front of everyone!

“Yeah, it’s no big deal,” Jungkook agrees from his seat. “Everyone has sex. Just, please for the love of god, remember to throw away your condoms if you ever wanna do it again! That is not a sight I ever wanna se again!” He shudders at the memory.

“Okay fine!” you grunt. “Can we please talk about something else now?!” you beg them.

They all agree to let it go and a silence settles over the cabin. Lazily, you open your book once again and try to zone in on the words on the page. It works for a little while, until Hoseoks voice rings through the cabin making everyone but you laugh.

“So, who else have joined the mile high club?”

“You are really not going to let this go, are you?” you ask with a groan.

“Nope,” Jin pops.

This flight suddenly got very long for an entirely different reason.

Thank you for reading! Remember, every reblog and comment truly motivates creators to keep on creating!

All Rights Reserved © 2020 Kookscrescent

[atc74]

Heartbeat - Chapter One

Warnings: COVID-19, Croatoan, Fluff, quarantine (Each chapter will have additional warnings). 

Summary: Sam, Dean, and Y/N are sheltering in place at the Bunker, researching this new virus that has created a world pandemic. But what happens when one of your own is immune compromised?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1630

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches​ because she’s the best

A/N: I’M BAAAAACCKKKK, well, mostly :) I know I’m not the only one struggling with life right now, and writing has been hard. Thank you all for sticking it out until I was able to get something together for you guys. This is only temporary and will pass. Keep your chin up and try on your jeans every few days. 

Italics indicate flashbacks

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

“Son of a bitch!” Dean’s voice echoed throughout the halls of the Bunker. Y/N just smiled softly, shaking her head, and returned to her research. The state of the world was part chaos, part terror as a new virus spread far and wide, creating a worldwide pandemic, the likes of which have not been seen in a century. The medical community was calling it COVID-19, but the Winchesters weren’t convinced it was what they were saying it was. The way it spread screamed supernatural to them. 

They had been hunkered down in the Bunker for two weeks, but even Y/N noticed they were running low on the staples and Sam would only tolerate frozen vegetables for so long. She also needed to refill her prescriptions if they were going to quarantine themselves for the foreseeable future. She’d had the foresight to call in a three month supply earlier in the week and just got the text this morning that they were ready for pick up. 

Y/N was diagnosed in her mid-twenties with Multiple Sclerosis. She had good days and bad days. Growing up in a hunting family made things more difficult for her but she kept going despite the tingling, the weakness, and the numbness she had been experiencing. However, when she realized she was more of a liability than an asset, Y/N stepped down and became the go-to for information, quickly becoming an expert in most things in regards to the Lore. The guilt of not being able to contribute physically nearly crippled her when two of her brothers were killed on a hunt. Her mother was long gone, and now it was just her and her dad left. She had no other choice and called some other hunters, and old family friends; the Winchesters. 

Sam and Dean did not hesitate to lend their assistance, and with their help, they were able to neutralize the pack of wolves that had taken part of her family. The Winchesters invited her and her dad to stay with them in the Bunker permanently, and she accepted, not having much left. Her dad came and went, continuing to hunt either solo, or with others. It wasn’t long after she moved in that she and Dean married, unable to deny their feelings any longer. 

“Sammy! We need to make a supply run,” Dean announced, walking into the library, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Hey, honey. How are you feeling today?” 

“Pretty good today, Winchester.” She smiled up at her husband. “I already started a list.” 

“You’re the best. How’d I get so damn lucky?” Dean pressed a kiss to her lips. 

“I’m a sucker for that car of yours,” she giggled, picking up her notebook and pen to finish the list. 

“It’s always the car,” Dean smiled, shaking his head.

As Y/N finished the list, her left hand started shaking, her wedding band shining in the brightly lit room. Her mind drifted back to the day she and Dean exchanged vows. 

Y/N slipped the circle of silver over Dean’s ring finger, her damp eyes finding his. His verdant irises widened at the sensation he felt when she placed the ring on his finger. He brushed it off as nerves, combined with butterflies, but after a few pictures, and a few drinks, the sensation wasn’t lessening. If anything, it got stronger. 

“Sam, what the hell? I think my ring is cursed!” Dean exclaimed in a hushed voice, cornering his brother in the kitchen. Dean ripped the ring off his finger and the sensation went away. He shoved the ring at his brother. “Go get Y/N’s ring and fix this!” 

“Dean, the rings aren’t cursed,” Sam laughed, opening another beer. 

“It’s giving me a weird feeling man. Like it’s, and this is gonna sound weird, even for me, but I think it’s beating,” Dean whispered the last word, looking expectantly at his brother, waiting for a response, an explanation, anything.

“That’s because it is, Dean,” Sam shrugged, taking a long sip off his beer. 

“What the hell?” Dean said, looking down at the ring in his hand. Tentatively, he turned it over, inspecting it closely, seeing nothing but the heartbeats engraved in the silver, before placing it back on his finger. There it was...ba boom, ba boom, ba boom, just slightly faster than his own. 

“There you are,” Y/N smiled as she entered the kitchen, gliding over to Dean to wrap her arms about his middle. “I love you, husband.” 

“I love you, too, wife,” Dean echoed, kissing her soundly. 

Making his exit, Sam glanced over his shoulder at the bride and groom, a smile playing at his lips. He could relax a little for now; his brother was happy. 

“Hey, honey, um, this is gonna sound weird, but, I think my ring is … beating,” Dean swallowed thickly. It still sounded stupid even as the words left his lips. 

“Mine, too, babe,” Y/N told him. The perplexed look on Dean’s face prompted her to continue. “You know how I always worry about you on a hunt? When you don’t answer, or your phone’s dead, or smashed to bits by yet another monster? I brought the idea to Sam and we spelled the rings. Mine reflects your heartbeat, and yours, mine. This way, I’ll always know you’re okay.” 

“So, it’s not my imagination. I was beginning to think I’d lost my damn mind!” Dean revealed, looking relieved at the information Y/N had supplied. He glanced down at the simple ring, feeling her steady heartbeat inside of it. He smiled. “You’ll always be with me even when we’re apart. I kinda love this.” 

“I kinda love it, too, Dean. it makes me feel better knowing I can always feel you right here.” She held up her ring, wiggling her finger, smiling as it caught the light. 

“Babe!” Y/N called out, waving the list in the air. 

“Got it!” Dean dodged around the table, snatching the slip of paper from her fingers, slowing only enough to place a kiss to the top of her head. He scanned the list as he headed toward the hall leading to the garage. “Really?” 

“Yes, really!” Y/N laughed in response, knowing he hit the part of the list with the tampons and pads on it. “The joys of being married, babe!” 

“This part still sucks ass!” he groaned. “Sammy, get a move on!” 

Y/N grabbed her cane, slowly making her way to the kitchen. She was slightly worried as several times while they’d been gone, did the heartbeat in her ring pick up, like Dean was filled with adrenaline. Things must be getting worse out there, and she wanted to be able to see Dean as soon as he was home, to ensure herself that he was okay. As good as she was with research and theoretical information, she really was a tangible person and knew the worry wouldn’t ease until she had her arms wrapped firmly around him. 

She heard Baby’s engine and doors before she heard Sam or Dean. She waited patiently in the kitchen as Sam came in, arms loaded down with bags. “How was it?” Y/N looked up at Sam for confirmation, knowing Dean tended to sugarcoat information in an effort to protect her. She didn’t need protecting, she just needed the truth. 

“It’s not great. We had to drive over to Smithville to get everything we needed. It’s getting worse by the hour, Y/N,” Sam replied solemnly. “I think this is the last trip we’re making together. It’ll be better if I go alone. If I get sick, I can isolate myself. If you or Dean get sick, I don't know...” Sam stopped, taking a moment. 

“Sam, I’m sure you both took the necessary precautions. Dean’s a germaphobe by nature so I’m sure he is out there now, sanitizing his Baby already. He wore a mask, didn’t he? And gloves?” 

“He sure did. Got some strange looks and things got a little dicey at the liquor store, and the drugstore. I don’t know why people are still hoarding toilet paper and feminine hygiene products,” Sam said, a look of disbelief on his face. 

“It’s actually a psychological response to minimize risk. It’s an emotional contagion as well, so when it starts happening in one part of the country, that news spreads and it drives people, either by fear, anxiety, or panic, into doing the same thing. I get the toilet paper, since that is a need everyone has, but tampons, really? I don't know why I’m surprised by anything at this point,” Y/N chuckled a bit as she reached for one of the bags to help Sam. 

“No!” Sam pulled the bags back from her. “Sorry. It’s just, um, can you please go wait in the library until I get all of this unpacked and sanitized? Please?”

“Yes, I can. Thank you, Sam. I appreciate you and am thankful for your concern,” Y/N smiled as she rose to her feet and made her way down the hall. She loved Sam as more than just a brother and her best friend. He had become her physical therapist of sorts, designing different workouts for her to keep her body strong when the MS wanted to take it from her. Sam had also done extensive research on different dietary and nutrition plans that people with MS have had success with combating their symptoms. Dean was her emotional rock, while Sam became the physical one. She lowered herself into one of the recliners and picked up a book. She’d had enough research for the day and some Harry Potter was what she needed to take her mind off things.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @meganwinchester1999​ @cherrycokegirls1​ @closetspngirl​  @roxyspearing​ @flamencodiva​ @blacktithe7​ @sis-tafics​ @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten​ @amanda-teaches​ @hannahindie​ @wotinspntarnation​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @winecatsandpizza​ @kickingitwithkirk​  @wi-deangirl77​ @hobby27​ @mogaruke​ @gh0stgurl​ @alleiradayne​ @idreamofplaid​ @seenashwrite​ @manawhaat​ @crashdevlin​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @emoryhemsworth​

The Dean’s List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @maddiepants​  @adoptdontshoppets​ @supernatural-jackles​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @akshi8278​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​

[delimeful]

the shapes in the silence (9)

warnings: violence, anger, threats, crying, fear

Chapter 9

Virgil spent the next four days locked in his room, as though to make up for all the time he’d spent out there with the others where he didn’t belong. His chest constantly seized with anxiety, a dull pain that lingered long into the night. It worked out, since he hadn’t planned on sleeping anyways. 

On the evening of the fourth day, Virgil was stirred from his fugue by loud knocking on his door. He cocked his head, wondering if he’d imagined it, but no. The knocks came again, distinctly Roman in nature. 

He shuffled over to the door, just barely remembering to pull on the tough guy persona. He really had been spending too much time as Puff if his first outward response to Roman was mild fondness instead of irritation and wariness. 

He cracked it enough to look out with one eye. “What.” 

Roman looked a little frazzled, and had that glint in his eye that meant he was gearing up for an argument. He drew himself up pompously. “Anxiety, I will only ask you this once, and I expect the truth. Have you seen Puff?” 

That… had not been what he was expecting. Still, he didn’t have to lie. He’d been careful to avoid the temptation that would come with transforming. “The dragon? No.”

He wasn’t surprised when Roman remained solidly in place, eyebrows furrowed. “In that case, I’m sure you won’t object to me checking your room?” 

Virgil sighed, leaning his head against the doorframe. “Why do you even care about that thing? It’s practically useless.” 

Roman swelled up in the way that meant he was truly angry, and Virgil reeled back slightly, raising an eyebrow. 

“Puff is not a thing! He’s a valiant and trustworthy friend, not that you’d know anything about such qualities.” Roman placed a hand on the door threateningly. “Now, let me in or face the consequences.” 

Virgil bit back the automatic stinging retort, his headache growing worse by the second. Maybe it would be faster if he just… “Yeah, fine. Whatever.” 

He flung the door open, crossing his arms, and Roman nearly lost his balance, eyebrows nearly to his hairline. “Truly?” 

“Make it quick, Princey.” Virgil bit out, irritation flaring up again. The other Side nodded and entered the room as though worried he would change his mind. 

Once inside, though, he looked around as though the decor would grow teeth and bite him. Virgil smirked. That was the desired effect. 

Still, he made a point to sigh loudly as possible, leaning against his wall and trying not to look too exhausted. Sure, two days was the longest ‘Puff’ had ever vanished for, but he hadn’t expected the others to make such a fuss. 

Roman searched diligently, occasionally calling out as though they were playing a game of hide and seek. Virgil stared up at his ceiling impatiently. He wanted to go back to brooding.

“Have you considered that maybe he just went back to wherever he came from?” He offered. “Doesn’t he vanish like, all the time?” 

When no response came, he straightened a bit, looking over at the Prince. 

Roman was standing at his desk, posture stiff, and he immediately felt nervous, trying to remember if he’d left anything incriminating there. “Roman?”

When the creative Side finally turned around, Virgil froze, staring at the small handcrafted bracelet in his hands. After all the chaos with Deceit, he’d forgotten his promise to return it. He scrambled for words, knowing how bad this looked.

“What did you do to him?” Roman said, quiet in a way that made goosebumps rise on the back of Virgil’s neck.

“Nothing! I just found that thing, it wasn’t on the dragon!”

Roman took a step forwards, and Virgil slid back despite himself, bumping against the wall. “Then why did you lie to me about it, Anxiety? I want the truth.” 

Virgil stared at Roman, at the hard set to his jaw and the fury in his gaze, and knew that the truth wasn’t going to satisfy him. 

… Well, it was about time he got back into his rightful role anyhow. 

He pushed away from the wall, getting into Roman’s space with an aggressive scowl. “You want the truth, Princey? I found that trinket and I could feel you did something to it, something designed to work against me. I couldn’t let you hinder me, so I took it.” 

Roman’s eyes widened and then narrowed again. “And Puff? Did you take it from him?” 

“God, relax.” Virgil drawled, rolling his eyes. “I barely even saw the little thing, it ran away as soon as I got close enough to kick it. Cowardly, isn’t it?” 

The words had barely left his mouth before a hand was gripping his collar and shoving him against the wall. His head bounced against it with a thud and he blinked away stars. Roman’s face was darkly furious, and his other hand had summoned his sword automatically. 

“Don’t call him a thing. And don’t ever threaten him again, or I’ll run you through until you discorporate, monster.” Roman told him, still so eerily intense. It was such a sharp contrast to his normal over-the-top, grandiose threats that Virgil was left stunned, heart racing. 

“Whatever, Princey.” He managed, breathing shallow. “I won’t mess with your little pet.” 

Roman growled, shaking him slightly, but seemed to accept that it was as good as he was going to get. He stormed out of the room, taking the bracelet with him.

Virgil twitched his hand, slamming the door shut after him and then wincing at the noise. That was the last time he let his guard down around them. Deceit was right; he’d forgotten that they liked Puff, not Anxiety. And who could blame them? 

He spent another few hours waiting for the headache to fade, and then accepted that the deadline for his five day grace period was rapidly approaching. He thought about the promise Roman had made to kill him, and panic swarmed his mind as he imagined how bad his reaction would be if he found out who Puff really was. His head swam, and when he opened his eyes again, he was tiny again for the first time in days. 

He cast a glare at the cuff on his leg, for the first time in a while feeling resentful that it was forcing him from his room. Whatever. He was the bad guy anyways, who cared if he was living a double life that would make them all hate him even more when it was revealed? It only added to his image. 

Shaking off the thoughts, he relished in the lack of tightness in his chest as he trotted down the hall. He’d forgotten how muted his anxious thoughts were in this form. 

He made his way to Patton’s room first, remembering how crestfallen the Heart had looked after realizing he was part of the problem in the last video. Knowing him, he’d bottled it all up before anyone else could ask. Virgil was more than familiar with that.

The door was cracked open, and he pushed his face against it to open it further and slip inside. Patton was on the floor, surrounded by crayons and colored pencils as he scribbled halfheartedly on blank printer paper. He looked up at Virgil’s approach, lighting up. “Puff! It’s been a while, buddy!” 

Virgil kneaded the plush carpeting beneath him for a moment before mustering up the courage to approach Patton and nuzzle up against his shoulder. He had never been very good at comforting, but being tiny and cute had to count for something, right?  

Patton stilled, and for a moment Virgil panicked, but then the Side squealed and scooped him up, cradling him in a hug. It was... warm.

They stayed like that for a while, Patton leaning against his bed and Virgil rumbling quietly in his arms. He was on his way to finally drifting off into sleep when a drop of wetness startled him awake. He craned his neck up, his wings flaring up in concern as he took in Patton’s tear-stained face. 

The emotional Side immediately looked ashamed. “Sorry, P-Puff. I’ve just been a little lonely the past couple of days. I’m fine though, I promise.”

As though to prove it, Patton visibly swallowed and forced a smile across his face. Virgil reached up with a paw, wondering how he was going to convey without words that it was okay for Patton to be upset, but before he could touch, there was an audible popping sound, and the arms under him vanished. 

He hit the ground with a surprised yelp, and it only took him a moment to parse what had happened, seeing the tiny form sat next to him. Part of him was panicking about the implications of this happening to Patton as well, who hadn’t been cursed and wasn’t an out-of-place Dark Side, but most of him was focused on soothing the shocked and slightly distressed expression on Patton’s face. 

Remembering how Roman had reacted, he approached slowly with his body low, crooning gently to call Patton’s gaze away from the comparatively huge furniture around them. The other Side startled. 

“Puff! You’re so big! Like a real dragon!” 

Virgil huffed, bumping Patton with his head. There was no trace of fear in his voice, only surprise. Feeling a surge of fondness, he chirped at Patton and brushed against him like an oversized cat. 

Patton stumbled back slightly, a choked giggle spilling from his lips, and then the laugh turned into a sob. He clapped his hands over his face, shoulders shaking, and Virgil whined audibly and pressed his face to the hands until Patton moved them away. 

“I’m sorry, I-I don’t know why-“ 

Patton cut off as Virgil bumped foreheads with him, trying to convey through gaze alone that he didn’t approve of Patton’s apology. He sniffled, and then began to cry in earnest, wrapping his arms around Virgil in a hug as his body shook with the force of it. He muttered half-coherent sentences, apologies mostly, and Virgil purred louder in response, butting his head against Patton’s chest. 

He waited the worst of it out patiently, until Patton was back to small, hiccuping sobs and exhausted eyes. “Gonna pick you up.” He said, except it came out as a rumble-chirp combination. Worth a shot.

Still, Patton didn’t protest when he carefully bit into the back of his shirt and lifted him up, trotting over to the bed and crouching to scale it. Once up, he found the coziest pocket of blankets and carried Patton over to it, setting him down and curling around him like a dragon croissant. 

“Nap time?” Patton asked, leaning against him. “That sounds like a good idea. I always sleep best when you’re next to me.” 

He closed his red rimmed eyes, unaware of Virgil’s flustered expression, and in moments was asleep. Virgil curled up tighter, as though he could protect Patton from ever feeling all bottled-up like that again. 

It wasn’t fair. Patton did so much, managing emotions and morality alike. He was allowed to feel things for himself, even if it was inconvenient for the others. Even if it made Thomas sad. It was his role to regulate a vast majority of emotions, not just the ones that made the others happy. 

He’d known the others hated him for doing his job, but he’d never thought that Patton would face something similar. Surely, Thomas would understand that he couldn’t be unrelentingly positive all the time? 

He sighed. He’d have to figure out some way to get the others to realize, to offer Patton the comfort he would no doubt never accept from Anxiety. Until then, he’d just have to keep a better eye out for him. If that meant sleeping here and risking reverting to normal form, well… it was worth the risk. Besides, Patton was the nicest of the three. If he found out, maybe he would just be privately disgusted and not tell the others so long as Virgil left them alone.

It was the best he could hope for. He sighed, settling down to watch over Patton’s sleeping form for the night.

[no-fxn-club]

Let's Get Something Straight, I'm not Either

Gerard has been in love with his best friend, who he thinks is straight and in a relationship with a woman. Although Ray has been hiding things about himself, and they all come out in one night.

a / n : this fic does have stuff with domestic abuse (hinted / talked about) but not being done in it, I couldn't not write it because I got the idea stuck in my head.

   "Gerard...can you come pick me up?" The voice asked through his phone at 2 am. It sounded like the male on the other end of the phone had been crying and running as his voice seemed to be shaking and almost breathless.    This was the start of Gerard's morning, or the end of his night depending on how you looked at it at. For him, it felt like the eventful start of his day as he had been woken up by the sound of the ringtone. He made himself sit up in bed and rubbed at his eyes to clear the haze from sleep from them and then slid out of his bed. He grabbed the discarded hoodie he kept throwing haphazardly to the side when he would take it off, tugging it on as he put his phone in the pocket of it. He started out of his bedroom and to his living room to tug on shoes and grab his keys before he went out to go pick up Ray. No matter what he would do anything if it would help Ray because they were best friends, and Gerard couldn't help holding a crush on him since they had started to be close. Although Ray had been in a committed relationship and was straight so the dark haired male knew he most likely had no chance to be with him. Yet Gerard couldn't help but love his best friend as strong as he did.

   Once Gerard was in the car he realized that he didn't for sure know where Ray was at to come pick him up, just as he reached for his phone from inside his pocket, it started to go off with the same ringtone from before although the voice was from the same person, the emotions clinging to it was...different. Now it sounded like he had been crying, which was the same, but also now like he was scared.

"Gerard...where are you?" Ray asked, his voice shaking worse now that he was crying. "Fuck I forgot to tell you were I am. I'm a couple blocks away from my old-... my apartment." He corrected himself almost as soon as he said it wrong.

"I'll be there before long."

"Gee?"

Fuck his voice sounded so soft and scared, it hit Gerard's heart hard when he heard it, "yeah sunshine?" He asked, trying to speak softly also.

"I'm scared...will you stay on the phone with me? I'm scared," he confessed, his voice dropping to be even softer on the last two words. Ray tugged at one of his curls a little nervous until he heard the other's voice respond.

"Yeah I can sunshine, is there anything you want to talk about?" The pale male asked as he drove, he had put his phone on speaker and left it sitting in his lap as he drove so he wouldn't have to hold it and drive at the same time.

"No I just want to hear your voice-" The sentence was cut off by a thud that spiked Gerard's heart rate and anxiety up.

"Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, shit, sorry i just dropped something..." Ray hadn't just dropped something. He tossed his bag down and slid down the wall behind him although he fell a little before he could ease himself to the ground and both of those is what his best friend heard. "Also my phone is really close to dying so it might cut off soon. How close-?" Ray asked before his phone died in the middle of his question. "Goddamn it!" He let out in an exasperated yell before tossing his phone without thinking. Once the male leaned forward to grab it, wincing at the pain in his side as he did, he found out that his screen protector was shattered although thankfully the glass underneath it hadn't broken yet. He let out a deep breath and ran a hand through his messy curls before moving so he was laying with his head on his bag with the few things he managed to grab before he had to duck out and as he did he mangled to hurt his side again. He mumbled a curse under his breath as he slowly reached out and tugged his shirt up to show his rib cage and could see a bruise starting to work its way into showing on his skin. He knew it would be worse the next few days or even when he woke up so he vowed to take some painkillers when he got to Gerard's house.

Speaking of Gerard, Ray realized he didn't know how close the male was to him, or how panicked he was going to be since the phone cut off in the middle of the call. But a few minutes later, once he had cleared his mind of all this, he heard a car coming up. Part of his brain prayed it was someone going by who would see him and wouldn't have a second thought about coming back to check on him. But then he heard a door open and slam shut just as there was a shot of pain under his eye. He didn't have time to hide it all so he knew it was all going to be showing. This would be the first time anyone saw him like this. He wished he could have covered it but then he heard a loud gasp and a voice.

"Ray! Fuck are you okay?!" The voice spoke up. Gerard. It must have been his car he could hear.

"I'm fine." The curly haired male mumbled out although to look at, no one would believe this. He looked like he had been in a fight. A bruise had started to fade off his cheek although another was still dark under his eye like it was fresh. As was the one on his ribs that was hidden under his shirt plus he imagined more he  couldn't see for now or even feel the pain of yet. The adrenaline from it all had already left him so now he was mostly stuck in the feeling of pain coming in radome strikes. He stood up from the ground and stumbled a little when he did as he felt a tad lightheaded.

Gerard noticed him stumble and swiftly moved over to his side to help support him. "What the hell happened to you, sunshine?" He asked as he helped the curly haired male into the car, once he was inside it, Gerard grabbed the bag he had been using as a makeshift pillow and stuffed it into his car in the backseat. Ray still hadn't responded but it wasn't because how Gerard had said what he did upset him, he was hurting and slightly spaced out from his side throbbing with pain now that he had upset it. Gerard made his way to the driver's side and slid into the car looking at Ray for a minute. "What happened to you?" He asked, finally breaking the silence in the car. His radio had been turned off and the only sound filling the car before this had been the sounds of their breathing.

"I...I'll tell you once we get your place." Ray mumbled out as he sat up making his curls fall to cover his face in fear or Gerard looking too long at them and taking him to the hospital to make sure it wasn't something worse than just the bruise showing up on his skin. "I'm fine." He mumbled out looking out the window but then realizing his reflection showed the bruise on his face and looked away once more. Ray felt so bad that he hadn't told his best friend about this before but he didn't want to make Gerard stress over it because it was just nothing to him.

But after a few minutes, he felt a hand slide across and grab onto his. He looked down to see the pale skin resting on top of his own. Neither of them said anything about this as the pale skinned male drove. It wasn't something odd for them. It was common even. They were close, many times they were asked if they were dating because they acted so close. Which is a little of what had formed the situation that Ray had just gotten himself out of.

"I love you." He spoke to break the silence.

Gerard's heart thudded against his chest like it was trying to break out when he heard those three simple words. And then he remembered, the male most likely only meant it in a platonic way, he forced his heart to calm down before speaking again. "I love you too, sunshine." He flashed the male a little smile and then looked back to the road.

After a couple minutes of driving, he stopped the car at his house. He got out after squeezing Ray's hand and then grabbed his bag from the backseat by the time Ray had gotten out of the car. He was walking slowly and holding a hand loosely at his side Gerard noticed as he walked behind him. Once the door had shut, Gerard spoke up. "Alright. Spill it. What's up with the bruise on your face and you holding onto your side like that?" He wasn't going to stop asking until Rsy told him the truth.

"Look for yourself," the male with a mess of curls said as he tugged his shirt off his head, wincing as he held his arms up to take it off fully. He let his arms fall back to his sides as he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

A soft gasp left Gerard's mouth as he stepped forward looking him over. He saw the start of what was bound to be a painful bruise. One that also stuck around for a while he could imagine. Then he looked up to see the one fading off his cheek. He touched it softly to make sure this all wasn't just some joke. That he was really seeing his best friend and crush standing before him with bruises. Gerard didn't dare touch the one under his eye as he knew it would hurt.

"What happened?"

"It's nothing..."

"No something happened, tell me what it was!" The pale male spoke his voice rising a little as he spoke the last few words.

"Delia..." His voice was just above a whisper as he broke the silence that had been forming between the two males. "She'd get angry over something I did and this would happen. But it's fine. I shouldn't have done that stuff..." He spoke trying to force a smile onto his face. Although he knew Gerard could see through it. "But I couldn't take it past tonight. She...she said something and I couldn't stand being around her anymore. I had to leave." He tugged his shirt back on wincing again as he did. He let out a small sigh as his arms fell back to his sides stopping the pain from being as strong. "She brought you into it. And called you something I've seen you full on swing on people for and it escalated more and more until I had to go." Ray confessed as he trailed behind Gerard, who was headed to his bathroom to help Ray take care of anything that could be worse than a bruise. "Delia kept getting angry and yelling at me because of how we act around each other and that everyone things we're dating. And it doesn't help she knows you're gay so she uses that to back up I'm dating you behind her back and that you turned me to be 'like you'." He added the air quotes as he slipped into the small room with his best friend.

Gerard was gay. That was no secret, as soon as he could be out of the closet he was. Sometimes he had subtle things about it, like a button Ray had gotten him that said "let's get one thing straight, I'm not", and other times it wasn't so subtle. "I can't turn you gay." He spoke rolling his eyes. 'Although I'd love it if you were.' He thought to himself as he started to make sure there were no cuts in any of the bruises on Ray's face. "You should have told someone sooner. I guess you were covering them in makeup so we wouldn't see them?" He asked and got an answer in the form of a small nod. Once Gerard had finished cleaning off his bruises, he hugged tightly to the darker skinned male. "I love you, Ray." He mumbled softly. Which was shocking as he usually only called him sunshine.

"I love you more, Gerard." He mumbled back hugging onto his friend trying not to cry.

"Did you bring any clothes in your bag? It felt super light."

"Not that I could really sleep in. It's a pair of jeans and T-shirt, all I could grab was a couple things. I managed to get my phone, it and a couple things you had given me." He spoke with a small smile at the end knowing he saved the memories.

"You can borrow some of mine." The dark haired male spoke brushing off the thoughts of Ray in his clothing.  Once they made it to the bedroom, he grabbed a T-shirt and pair of pajamas pants and tossed them on the edge of the bed by Ray. Gerard fell onto his bed and curled up on his side of it after discarding his hoodie once more. He watched the shadowed back of Ray as he started to underdress down to his boxers. It wasn't like they hadn't changed in front of each other before so neither of them minded. Although his face blushed pink as he watched the skin come into view, since his mind was running laps with this thought. He forced himself to look away as Ray finished getting dressed.

Ray climbed into the bed by Gerard and tugged the covers up over himself. They had shared the same bed together so it was no big deal to either of them. But Ray looked over to Geard and felt his heart start to race. But in a good way. He smiled a little seeing Gerard look at him and start blushing.

"Yeah?"

"Nothing." Ray spoke, shaking his head a little as he glanced away.

The silence started to filter into the room once more as they lay there until one of them spoke up.

"Ray? I can't keep this secret any longer." He confessed as he looked to the curly haired male in the darkened bedroom. "I love you. I have for so long.. I can't keep hiding it anymore. I understand if you don't like me back I just needed to say it. I don't imagine you do like me back because your not ga-"

He was cut off by the feeling of lips on his own. They both melted into the kiss only pulling away when they needed air. "I love you too, Gerard. I just didn't know how to let the feelings out because I was with Delia and she would have killed me to know I liked a guy let alone my best friend." He said with a small smile.

"I love you..." Gerard spoke with a large smile as he moved closer and wrapped his arms around Ray so they were cuddling.

"I love you more." He spoke softly, wrapping his arms around the others back and kissed his head softly.

[vorish-musing]

One Last Job (Part 2/2)

I wanted to get this out to you guys so badly, I worked non stop on it!

Warning #1: this has spoilers for the show Barry on HBO, this is your official spoiler warning. this show deals with graphic violence (the main character being a hitman) and if you are not okay with the talk of murder/death, do not read this fic. 

Warning #2: this story features soft, safe, unwilling vore, with this comes fearplay, digestion mention, fatal vore (mentioned but not graphic) if any of this isn’t your thing, feel free to not read, I won’t get mad :) there’s also a bit of cursing involved 

Without further ado, here’s part two!

“Help!” he yelled loudly, louder than Barry expected, making him grab his stomach, where hank was, and turn a bright red, luckily he was out of the house, and nobody was there to hear it. 

Hank quickly backed away from the stomach wall, feeling Barry's hand on the other side. His heart stopped for a few seconds. “Someone help me! Please!” 

Barry began to speed walk to his car, trying to draw the least amount of attention to himself. “Hank just please be quiet until we get into the car, then you can scream your lungs out” he mumbled to himself. 

Hank heard the words, but chose to ignore them, going back to flailing about, now turning his attention to Barry “Let me out!” 

Barry opened his car door, quickly getting in and letting out a deep sigh, hoping Hank would stop kicking soon, it didn't hurt, it was more of a nuisance. He turned to the dashboard, looking at his phone, then a lightbulb hit him. 

“Barry I swear to god if you don’t let me out all of my men will know about this” of course, hank had no idea how he was going to tell his men about this, but threats were threats.

“Yeah I get it, give me a moment.” Barry spoke, not intimidated at all by Hanks words, concentrating on turning his phone on, he went to his contacts and phoned the same number he called Fuches on before, putting it on speaker. 

Hank had a sinking feeling as Barry disregarded him, he had never seen Barry like this before, it was like it was a different person. Anger bubbled up inside of him, he realized that Barry wouldn’t care, but he cared, it was his life dammit!

A few rings passed, before Fuches answered “Barry?” the man sounded surprised to hear from him already, or maybe it was hearing from him at all.

“Here’s your proof.” Barry placed the phone at his stomach, a few gurgles we’re heard, before Hank made some noise so Fuches could listen in.

“Fuck you Barry! Fuck you! Let me out of here you fucking bastard!” 

Barry heard Fuches laugh maniacally on the other end of the phone, his gut twisting at the sound “Ha! How's it going in there Hank? Having fun, I presume?” 

“...Fuches?” Hank froze, making him pause his tirade dead in its tracks, remembering what Barry had said before “you can’t just let this happen, Barry ATE me! Do you really want someone to go that way?!” 

“Absolutely! I asked for it after all, surprised he even took the job!” every word that Fuches spoke drained any energy Hank had, it was hopeless “ Anyways, I now have a mafia to run, so enjoy your meal Barry!” and with that, the phone call disconnected. 

Hank was stunned, not even he would want someone to suffer like this. 

Well, they weren’t his men anymore, Fuches was taking over. 

Barry then turned off his phone again, letting out a sigh “Fuck!” he yelled, hitting his hands on the wheel,  laughing out of pure anxiety. “It fucking worked…. Hank? Hank listen to me I-” 

“You hated Fuches... Why would you let him do this, why would you do this for him?” hanks words were quieter, he was in shock, it was like everything hit him all at once. Its scared Barry how his demeanor changed dramatically

“Hank hear me out, I do hate him and you’re going to be fine, this was all for show. If you calm down I can explain, you aren’t going to be digested, and you aren’t going to die.” 

It took a few moments for Hank to register what Barry was saying, but one he had, the man was speechless, he couldn’t even understand what Barry was saying, “I...How?-” he didn’t know if this was a game, or if he was telling the truth

“Trust me, I don’t get it either, I can just...do this,” Barry turned a bright red, realizing that his answers wouldn’t help hank all that much “ Fuches wanted you dead, and wanted me to...do this… I decided to play along, I can’t let him run your men, he’d go ape-shit”

“Why...Why didn’t you tell me?” Hank yelled, trying to poke holes in Barry’s story. 

“The fucker wanted proof that I did the job, so I couldn’t avoid it. I used to use this ability on jobs all the time.” 

Hanks stomach dropped “people have died in here?!” somehow that never crossed his mind, of course it had happened before, Barry seemed like he was an expert.. 

Barry’s eyes widened “NO!” he yelled, his heart beating wildly as another painful memory was shoved into his head. He could feel Hank stop moving, probably shocked at the volume. “no...It was when I needed to transport someone somewhere without people knowing. They’d usually be gagged so nobody could hear them. I wouldn't… do this to kill someone.”

There was an awkward silence.

Hank slumped back in the stomach, feeling it gurgle around him, making him flinch “what's going to happen with Fuches. He’s going to know I’m alive sooner or later” 

“We can expose him, you’re alive and he tried to get you killed, you just need to lay low for at least a day. Which means you’ll be in there for the rest of the day, and tomorrow.” 

He was ready for backlash once more, and he wouldn’t blame Hank for being angry, but he was thoroughly surprised when hank pressed on the stomach wall, not angrily this time, but a soft touch.

“You… did this all to save me?” hank’s voice changed “I knew you we’re my friend!” hank punched the wall of Barry’s stomach, this time in a more friendly gesture. “I’m sorry I fought so much, must’ve done a number on you”

“Not really, I’ve been through worse”

 “How come you didn’t tell me before, you scared the shit out of me, you could have told me and then did it!” hank let out a laugh, more out of pure shock than happiness

Barry sighed, relieved he and Hank we’re on the same page “because he wouldn’t believe it, you aren’t that good at acting scared yakow” 

“Fuck you! I’m a fantastic actor!”

Barry just laughed, pulling onto the street, ready to get home and away from this mess. 

“So how did you find out you could do this?” 

“Not important” Barry sighed, rolling his eyes. 

Hank pushed on his stomach wall, then pushed again, clearly not planning to drop the situation any time soon, and with each push it was getting more bothersome.

Barry gave in.  it was no use keeping secrets anymore “back in Afghanistan, one of my mates were fucking around, it was just us on patrol that night, he was making a shit ton of noise, which was pretty much the only thing that would get us killed, I just snapped and….yeah, I don’t really remember much except for after it happened.” 

Barry felt hanks laughter inside, it almost tickled “you maniac! What happened? Did he tell?” 

“He tried saying I did something, nobody believed him, and the situation was dropped, he never really spoke to me after that, transferred to a different group.” 

“Well that's not fun.” Hank slumped down into the squishy stomach wall, he wanted to hear an entertaining story like what happened to him, call it masochistic, but if he knew none of this and told him what happened to him, he would pitch it as a movie. 

“Not every story is. Its mostly the same pattern” Barry turned into his apartment complexes parking garage “Do...this, go to a remote location, get them out, take out the hit. We didn’t tell the buyer what we did, we just charged them more when they wanted a kidnapping. If you think you did some damage today, these guys did so much worse.”

Hank nodded, wishing he could see inside Barry’s stomach. Wondering what it really looked like, if what he was saying was true, he might have some scar tissue or healed wounds from when it happened.

“How did Fuches not realize you could keep me in here without dying?” 

“He thinks there’s a time limit on how long someone can stay in there for.” Barry turned into a parking spot, turning off his car, then sitting back “there isn’t- if you’re worried about that. I mean if I really wanted to I could do it, but that’s just....cruel.” 

Hanks heart spiked for a second, “Barry-” he laughed, a nervous twinge in his voice.

“I won’t.” Barry cut him off “I’d have to be dying for that to happen, and I’m not dying any time soon.”

Hank patted the stomach wall “I know… its just…” hank sighed, “it fucked up that I’m even in here, allow me to be a little nervous?” 

Barry awkwardly patted his stomach, turning a bit red, he never had genuine conversations about this “yeah… I’m going out of the car now; I need you to be quiet for a few minutes so I can get to my apartment.” 

Hank hesitates, not really wanting to be left in silence. “Fine. be quick.” 

Barry got out of the car, walking out of the parking garage and up to the main floor of the building, hank was still and silent for this time. Barry was impressed, until hank began moving, he wouldn’t mind as much, but the man was basically investigating his stomach. 

Hank couldn’t help himself, he had to explore if he couldn’t ask anything at the moment, hank pushed against the walls gently, moving his hands across the squishy flesh. He moved around the entire stomach doing this. 

Barry began walking faster to the elevators, “Hank calm down” he muttered to himself, hoping the man would hear it too. 

Unfortunately, Hank heard no such thing. He began moving around more, pushing upwards on the top of the stomach, feeling the opening of the esophagus, he gave it a slight push, causing Barry to make a shocked noise, grabbing his stomach out of instinct and stopping dead in his tracks. 

A few stragglers by the elevators gave him a strange look as he turned bright red, looking down and walking over to press the ‘up’ button. 

Hank turned red as well, not expecting that reaction. He chuckled a bit, before doing it once again. 

Barry twitched instinctively, pushing onto his stomach as a silent warning towards Hank to not do it again. He could feel hank laughing, making him roll his eyes. 

Finally, he made his way up to the apartment, ignoring his theatre acquaintances/roommates, who ignored him as well, heading straight to his room, closing and locking the door. 

“I told you to not do anything.” Barry sighed, sitting on his bed. 

Hank couldn’t help it anymore, he burst out laughing “you told me to stay silent” 

‘Whatever” Barry opened his laptop, sighing as he saw his Facebook page, a photo of Sally and him as his header. 

Hank picked up on the sigh, patting the stomach wall “Okay, I won’t do it again, no need to get all upset.” 

“Its not you… its my girlfriend.” Barry pinched the bridge of his nose, “she walked in on me when my ability was going uh… haywire, I was giant, she got scared, and wouldn't talk to me, then I had to leave.”

“You can be a GIANT?!” Hank yelled out, completely missing the other things Barry had said. 

“Not the point Hank” 

“Right right… I’ll ask later” Hank nodded, pushing on the stomach wall jokingly, the organ gurgling back in response “what are you going to do”

“I don’t know, I’m going to talk to her tomorrow at class, you better not say a word tomorrow, I don’t need a bunch of theatre adults trying to gut me.” 

“Got it got it…. So about being giant?” 

Barry sighed; this was going to be a long night. 

It was, mostly answering Hanks questions, Hank messing around with his organs, and at one point, having to cut up pieces of food and swallow them down so hank wouldn’t starve. 

When the time came for the men to sleep, Barry found himself just staring at the wall, he couldn’t fall asleep, his thoughts on sally. 

He kept thinking of ideas on what to say to her, and hoping she would listen, he took a moment to turn his phone back on, hoping to see a message from sally, but there was nothing. 

He considered writing her a text explaining everything, or at least some of the things, but he decided not to, he’d give her the space she needed, and he would talk to her tomorrow. 

He placed his hand on his stomach, feeling hank asleep inside, he smiled a bit, he had never realized how good it felt for someone to be inside, it was always sharp pain and annoying struggles, but this was actually pretty great. 

Finally, sleep took over him. 

The next morning was awkward, hank waking up in complete darkness, forgetting where he was, pounding on the stomach walls to be let out, which in turn woke up Barry, who just sighed and had to calm the man down. 

“I’m sorry Barry I forgot” 

“Well if you fall asleep today you better not forget while I’m out”

“Barry I told you I won’t!” hank hit the stomach wall “you make one mistake and you get attacked nonstop” 

“Listen it could be my life at stake if Fuches hears anything about you being alive, if one of the actors finds out where you are and spreads it, it's your life too.”

Hank just huffed, sliding down against the side of the organ 

Barry quickly made his way to the building where the class was, about an hour and a half earlier, he knew she was always that early. As he parked,  he scanned the lot for Sally, noticing her at the doors. 

“Shit!” Barry whispered, he realized he never really practiced what to say to her. “What do I do” 

“Tell her the truth Barry” Hank spoke “minus the cannibalism part...is this cannibalism?”

“I don’t think about it often enough to answer that” Barry patted his stomach “fuck it, I’ll just wing it. Stay quiet” Barry got out of his car making his way to the building.” 

“Good luck, Barry!” Hank spoke, patting back before quieting down, letting himself sink into the stomach wall, wanting to hear the conversation as much as possible.

Barry let out a deep breath, “Hey sally?” he called gently to her as she was about to open the door. 

Sally froze in place, hearing Barry’s voice, she turned around, putting on an awkward smile “hey Barry!” 

He was taken aback at her enthusiasm, not even expecting her to say anything “are...are you okay?” 

She laughed awkwardly “what do you mean?” she stared at him before her eyes lit up “Oh! You mean yesterday! I’m fine, I think I got a second hand high from my roommate hotboxing while I was in the room, I was seeing things...marijuana sucks” 

Barry stared at her for a moment, “uh… Weed isn’t a hallucinogen…” he saw Sally’s face turn a bit red, her smile faltering a bit. 

“Well, I was seeing things, right?” she asked, not to him, but to herself. It broke Barry’s heart to hear her question herself. 

He thought of agreeing with her, saying that everything was fine, that nothing happened yesterday, but he lied to her enough, and she clearly didn’t believe herself either. 

“We need to talk” Barry spoke, Sally’s smile gone, a fearful look replacing it. Barry continued, “please just sit at the stairs with me” 

Sally, her heart pounding in her chest, silently moving to the outside stairs, sitting quietly. Barry followed her, sitting down. 

“Listen, Sally?” Barry looked into her eyes, she looked into his, the man sighed, butterflies in his stomach… actually it was Hank moving. “Yesterday, everything you saw was real.” 

Sally paused for a few moments before laughing “Barry what are you talking about?”

“Sally you know it's true.” she looked for anything other than seriousness in him, but his eyes didn’t waver for a second

She shook her head a few times, looking down at the ground, almost embarrassed at what she was saying “No I don’t, because if you actually knew what I was seeing you wouldn’t be saying this-”

“I was giant, Sally”  Barry winced internally, he just had to rip it off like a band-aid. “I was giant in one of the back rooms, you walked in and ran away.” 

Her brain processed what he was saying to her, before her face contorted into a look of fear, she wanted to believe she wasn’t thinking right, but she just had to face the music. 

“W-what?” she tried to scoot back on the stairs, but the wall of the building hitting her back stopped her from doing so. 

“Sally,  I’m not going to hurt you, I’ve never wanted to hurt you before, it isn't different now.” Barry put a hand on her shoulder. 

She flinched away at first, until she looked into his eyes, those were the eyes she fell in love with, the eyes she knew well, she felt safe with. “H-how?”

“I...fuck” Barry looked down, distracted by hank moving around, it seemed like he too was nervous and moving around as a result. 

Sally gave him a strange look “are you okay?” she tried coming closer to him, noticing he was focused on his stomach for a few moments “do you feel sick?” 

Barry pulled back, making her jump at how fast he was “I’m good…” he trailed off awkwardly, she nodded, backing up as well. “I just… don’t want you to be afraid of me, I...I’m not going to hurt you Sally, I love you” 

Hank sat in almost disbelief, he hadn't seen or heard Barry express...normal emotions before. He almost thought the man couldn’t express anything other than Annoyed. 

“Barry I…” Sally paused, worried to say the wrong thing “I overreacted, I shouldn’t have run away I should’ve let you--” 

“No” Barry put his hands on her shoulders, looking her dead in the eyes “you reacted how everyone would react to...that. I’m not mad at you, I just want to help you understand so you’re okay.” 

To this, he noticed Sally get a bit misty eyed, whenever he would show her any affection like this, she would always cry, and he was okay with that, he didn’t want her to be afraid to react to anything he did, she’d been badly hurt before, but he would never let that happen. 

She wiped her eyes, smiling softly “about that explanation?” 

Barry smiled, letting her go, and explained everything. 

Well, not everything. 

He told her everything she needed to know, he could shrink and grow, shrink other people and objects, to prove this to her, he took a pen out of her purse, and proceeded to shrink it, then resize it. 

She was absolutely amazed at what she was seeing before her eyes, they were lit up like the stars. 

He could feel hank getting more and more restless inside though, maybe it was the environment around the shrunken man, maybe he was bored, maybe he just wanted to cause trouble and piss Barry off, who knows. 

“So, it just… is apart of you? Do you know anyone like this too?” 

“Basically, its just something I have to live with, and no, there’s not really a place I could go looking for people like me” Barry shrugged.

“That’s… interesting” she laughed as he finished his explanation, all of her worry and fear melted away, and it was back to just same old Sally Reid. “In a good way, I mean you could probably make an entire play out of this” 

Barry Laughed softly “I guess so.” 

Then… it happened. 

Hank didn’t mean to laugh out loud, and definitely didn't mean for it to be that loud.  He just simply found it funny that out of anything out of his life, this would be the thing that would be perfect for a play. 

A PLAY of all things, not a movie or even a short film, but a play. 

Barry turned a dark red, grabbing onto his stomach, there was no way that she couldn’t have heard it. It may have been muffled, but there was no playing off what that sound was. 

Sally looked back and forth for a second “did you hear that? Sounded like someone was laughing.” 

He couldn’t play it off as a passerby, there was practically nobody around, hell, Gene wasn’t even there yet, she had to bring her own set of keys so she could get in when he was gone!

“I uh..I-” 

“Barry are you okay? Your face is really red” she looked him up and down as he panicked, his face giving everything away “Barry, you can talk to me” 

He had to think of a lie. He had to think of something so he could change the subject. He couldn’t let her know about this. “Its just...fuck…-”

“Okay okay Barry the Jig is up!”

Hank fucked this up, so he put it upon himself to fix it as well.

Barry tightened his grip on his stomach. Horrified enough to lose all use of his voice. He was stunned.

Sally whipped her head around “okay Barry what the fuck is going on?” she spoke, her tone much less concerned and much more upset. “Who’s there” 

“In here Miss Sally Reid!” 

“Hank shut the fuck up” Barry spoke extremely quickly, the panic and anger in his voice rising with each word. 

Her eyes trailed down to Barry stomach, which he was holding onto for dear life. She was about to say another thing, before she heard the voice again.

“No, I won’t shut the fuck up, she heard and now she knows!” 

Sally let out a small squeak in shock, there was no way that voice was actually coming from inside of Barry, but the sound was in that area. 

“Sally I can explain-”

“What is going on!?” she yelled, silencing Barry “you need to tell me right now if this is a joke, right fucking now!” 

“Listen Sally its not a Joke its just…. Dammit thanks Hank, couldn’t keep quiet?” he took his hand off of his stomach, taking a deep breath in attempt to calm his scattered brain. “Its not a joke sally, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

“So, you’re telling me that someone is… in there? Like you...you…” she couldn’t say the word, it made her nauseous to even think about. 

“Yeah I uh...I had to do it… he needed a place to go, he’s in a bad crowd, and they’re not that uh… pleased with him right now.”

“But he’s… he’s dying?” it was more of a question than a statement, he didn’t seem scared. 

“I’m okay” hank chimed in, “Barry is a great guy, he wouldn't hurt anyone” hank poked the wall of the stomach as a sort of inside joke between the two of them. 

“Hanks safe, its like, my own personal space for anyone who needs it.” Barry spoke “its okay, I just...didn’t want to tell you, this is much worse than just growing and shrinking things.” 

“Yeah… a lot different.” she nodded “are you sure its safe? You wouldn’t be able to actually hurt someone in there, right?”

Hank heard Barry’s heart pick up when she asked this, he was nervous about...something, hank didn’t know what.

“No… I’d have to be dying for that to happen” he answered, saying the same thing he said to hank, to her. 

He hated telling lies to her, but if he was honest with her, or even with Hank, they’d both never speak to him again. 

It was an accident really, he didn’t want to kill the guy, but as he was leaving the warehouse where he had swallowed the man, he failed to notice the other man hiding in the corner who had saw the whole thing. 

The stranger stabbed him in the gut in an attempt to kill the hitman, and then bolted to let him bleed out, unfortunately as he struggled to keep himself alive, his focus wasn’t really on the person inside of him… and when he remembered, it was too late. 

Fuches wasn’t bothered by it, he couldn't have cared less. It destroyed Barry though, he almost quit being a hitman right there and then as he was being stitched up. 

That was the last time he had ever swallowed someone, until now. 

So, he was technically not telling a lie...He’d have to be dying for it to happen. 

“Oh, my fucking god...my boyfriend can eat people” she spoke out loud, taking Barry out of his heavy thoughts. “Oh my god!” all she could do was laugh, it was such an unbelievable concept, but she couldn’t deny what was right in front of her.

Barry quickly hushed her, “you need to keep this quiet though, I can’t risk this getting out to anybody.”

“Got it!” she answered quickly “you have no idea how many secrets I’m keeping in this class alone, I basically know everyone’s secrets, so yours is safe with me” she smiled proudly at him, and he returned it. 

“So, Barry! Everything worked out in the end! Win for Hank?” the man interrupted, making the normal sized humans laugh together. 

“You did exactly what I didn't want you to do, Hank.” Barry spoke, poking at his stomach “if you do that while the class is going on I swear you’re going to stay there for a whole week”

“Yes, yes Barry, I know,” Hank trailed off, before pushing on the stomach wall, making the skin bulge so the two could see “I’m not trapped in here with you, you’re trapped out there with ME” Hank chuckled. 

Sally’s gaze couldn’t move from his stomach as the shirt barely covered the moving person inside, Barry telling hank to knock it off while also chuckling “that is honestly terrifying” 

“Hopefully you won’t have to see it again.” Barry gave her a smile, which she returned with a soft kiss. 

He melted into it, feeling all of her energy enter him, making him feel better every second the kiss lasted. 

“Good Morning love birds” the two pulled apart to see Gene, walking up to the front doors of the building “Sally, I thought you’d be inside by now. I forgot my keys.” 

Sally turned a slight pink “oh uh, sorry Gene! I just got caught up talking with Barry.” she quickly got up giving Barry a wink before grabbing her keys out of her purse, opening the door for Gene” 

“Barry, you look better today, you ready to perform?” Gene asked as Sally unlocked the door. Barry just nodded in response “good, I want you to go first since you’re Mr. Early today.” 

Before Barry could answer, Gene already went inside, Sally motioned for him to join, “come on!” 

He smiled at her, holding up his hand “Give me a sec!” She nodded, holding the door for him as she waited. 

“No fucking around Hank.” Barry patted his stomach, the man only replied with a pat back, most likely getting ready to take a nap for the next few hours. 

Barry stood up, walking into the building with sally, not another word spoken. 

he always thought his ability could only be used for bad things, but now, he realized that he could do a lot more than use this on Jobs, hell, he could probably get someone to help him explore it. 

It could be used as a blessing now, not just his curse.

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

and Done! I hope you guys enjoyed this, i wanted to try something new and please let me know if you liked it or not! should I have more multiple chapter stories? let me know!

Have a good day and remember that y’all are fantastic! be good people!

[observedchaos]

Fic: Favors the Brave (1/1) [Jaime x Brienne, Tyrion]

Posting so that I don’t chicken out of cleaning it up and posting to AO3 later

“WHAT DID YOU DO???”

Tyrion lifted his head muzzily from his desk to see Fury incarnate hovering over him. 

Like every true sinner, a part of Tyrion had known that there would be a day of reckoning. What was a thrill without the threat of danger?

Though he had rather imagined his headsman resembling his father, not this...gargoyle having a bad hair day? Tyrion squinted with heroic effort but the haze of a proper hangover won. 

"TYRION, WAKE UP, DAMN IT!"

Hmm, the sound of the Fury seemed familiar. Was it an ex? Gods, he hoped he wasn't so cliche. That would be humiliating. Wasn't his type more backstabber than frontstabber? 

Who else, who else? He had always thought there was something off about Varys…

No, wait it was Brienne Tarth.

Tyrion patted her muscled arm in relief. Brienne was mighty but merciful. She would rescue him from the consequences of his ale-soaked misdeeds. 

Whatever they may be. 

Tyrion found he couldn't remember much at the moment. Only the most unshakeable pieces of identity remained: his name, the view straight up Father's flared nostrils when Tyrion delivered a perfect bon mot, and every curve of the '77 Playwench centerfold.

"WHAT DID YOU DO, TYRION?"

The question sank in that time. Sank in like an arrow right into his aching head. Words. He must find words to fend off Brienne's vicious volley. 

Words, his old friends. He had dedicated his life to sowing adjectives, japes and invectives across the land. Rude of them not to bear fruit in his time of need. 

Finally, a lone weed wound its way to the surface. 

"Offended the gods," he croaked.

There. Those were words that resembled a sentence. Take that, foul Fury! Of course, his tongue was so dry it may have sounded more like "often the goths." In vino, visigoths, Tyrion chuckled to himself.

"There’s no time for this! What did you say to that woman??” 

Brienne was implacable. It had been amusing when Jaime was the one to tease her into anger. Like watching a gladiator poke at a saintly lion. To think, his brother *liked* her this way.  Jaime was a braver idiot than Tyrion had given him credit for.

"Woman?"

"The one time I need you to talk!" Brienne groaned in despair.  She might have clutched her tragic hair. Tyrion was too busy trying not to puke to be sure. Brienne regrouped and fetched him a glass of water. Bliss.

"Tyrion, focus. Last night. You went inside that tent and when you came out you said that you 'fixed it.' What did you fix? What did you do to Jaime???"

"Jaime? Tent?"

"That stupid red tent at the carnival you MADE me go to last night! THINK, TYRION!!!"

How had he never noticed that her voice was more forceful than a battering ram? Merciful Mother.

"Not so loud, woman, please."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does your head hurt? BECAUSE I WILL TAKE IT OFF YOUR NECK IF YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT YOU DID!"

Shock that she was capable of sarcasm jolted his brain into gear. A very rusty third gear.

“Brienne, if you are going to be dramatic, then I will have to be sensible and no one wants that.”

Brienne hauled him forward by his shirt with such force that Tyrion felt his wing tipped shoes take flight. Their disparate sizes meant her hand nearly spread collar to cock. Fear shook him sober. 

"Yes, ok. I am trying to remember. I swear it." Tyrion scrambled for purchase and details that would jog his memory. "We went to a carnival? Why in the world would you and I go to a carnival?"

"You were moping! You said we had to go where we belong!" Brienne's fist clenched. Unfortunately, so did his windpipe.

Less unfortunately, gurgling her name fueled enough guilt to loosen her grip. 

Tyrion had never been so glad to have his feet on the ground. Rolling his shoulders in relief, he felt his freshly oxygenated mind rev with curiosity. He *did* like a puzzle.

A carnival. That might explain the calliope music merrying around his head.

"Walk me through last night, Brienne. From the beginning. If I have the big picture, maybe I can remember the details." 

She took a deep breath. Brienne slipped into the cadence of an officer delivering a shift report, something she and Jaime had surely done hundreds of times when they served together in Essos. Calm was Brienne’s specialty. Jaime often called her a robot, with mirth in his eyes. Outside of her hearing, Jaime had told him that her stoicism was the only reason he still had two fingers on his right hand. Tyrion didn’t have words for the look in Jaime’s eyes, then. 

"You and I left work at the same time. Jaime was picking you up because you were sad after… Chai?"

"Shae." Tyrion's throat was dry again.

"After she dumped you. Jaime insisted that I come have a drink with you. We went to a bar you hated." 

Tyrion rubbed his head. "Were there...there were hubcaps on the wall. And they dyed the ale green."

"Yes! You told Jaime it was like playing a symphony with a kazoo.” Brienne smiled fondly. “He laughed so hard he…" 

Tyrion took a swig of water as his interrogator trailed off. She had a bad habit of sharing details that made her affections too apparent. It was hard to watch. 

"We had an appetizer but then Jaime got a call." She blinked too quickly as she stumbled on. Another tell. 

"From Cersei. She called and he came running." An all too familiar pit formed in Tyrion’s stomach.

Sympathy briefly returned to Brienne’s face. "You were upset. You ordered shots and...people were looking. Then you dragged me to the carnival. Mostly I tried to keep you from falling on your face as you told me that Jaime would always choose Cersei.” 

Truth was bitter. Tyrion had run out of wine to sweeten his tongue.

“He will, you know,” he snapped. “I’ve watched him do it a dozen times. You dragged him out of the pits of hell in Essos and not even you can save him from her. She ruined him the day she met him. She’s the main attraction and we’re the sideshow!”

Brienne flinched. Her left hand smoothed the skin of her right thumb in an absent gesture of anxiety. Tyrion cleared his throat in apology.

“He feels responsible for her somehow,” he said gently. “She trusted him when he needed someone to need him. We were never good enough for our father but he was exactly what Cersei wanted. Because he did everything she wanted. Terrible deeds did not feel terrible if he did them for her. Then he saw what she was but he couldn’t take back what he had done. Jaime thinks he doesn’t deserve...anything better.”

Seeing his sorrow reflected on her face was unbearable. Deflection, then.

“And how else did I charm you last night, my lady?”

“You cursed fate for making you beautiful but unloved. Then you literally flung yourself onto several women and screamed ‘once more unto the breach!’"

"Ah, yes. Well, I suppose I do get a bit theatrical when I’m drunk."

Brienne glared at him. "You disappeared when I was helping one of your poor victims up. I found you an hour later coming out of that red tent with the burning heart. "

A burning heart. Tyrion’s pulse quickened. “Jaime. I wanted to help Jaime.” 

I tell desires, not fortunes. An impossible memory. A woman’s eyes flashing red. Smoke stinging his eyes. A voice from the embers....We all must choose.

“Please, Tyrion. You said you ‘fixed it.’ I thought you were just drunk but then this morning…”

Tyrion clutched Brienne for balance. He spoke without hearing the words. “I wished for Jaime to have a second chance.” 

A clang from the outer office jarred him from his stupor. He toppled over as Brienne rushed to the blinds. The slats crumpled like paper in her hand as she peered through the window of his office door. 

“He’s here.” She looked scared. Tyrion had never seen Brienne look scared before.

His assistant’s voice drifted in. “M-m-m-Mr. Lannister?”

The door opened. It was reckoning day, after all. 

From the floor, Tyrion saw the face of the man he had looked up to his whole life. A face that he hadn’t seen in over 20 years. 

Blond hair untouched by grey. Trouble-free eyes. 10 fingers. 

Jaime was 16 again and his heart burned bright gold.