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head-empty-only-sunshine · 3 years ago

Text

Not So Bad

Moon X Reader

A/N: This is a piece for a little contest in a discord server I'm in! I'm the hottest of garbage at the prompt enemies to lovers, so this is as good as it's gonna get lads. So sorry but I am physically incapable of not cursing in my fics. You have no idea how many times I replaced the word 'fuck' in this LOL

Description: Oh how Moon hated you. As a parts and services worker, you were natural enemies. Alas, he would eventually have to let you do maintenance on him one day, and you decided that day was today. Surprisingly, all it took was a little sweetness to get him to change his mind and convince him it wasn't so bad after all.

Tags: fluff, gn!reader, cursing, enemies to lovers (sorta), Chad is back and more of a dickhead than ever, parts and services!reader

Word Count: 2803

Oh how you hated each other; so much so as that you needed a second person with you at all times when working with them to reduce the chances of either of you ending up dismembered. Sun wasn’t an issue because he was just scared, but Moon was your designated enemy. Why? Because you wore that dreaded clothing that said ‘parts and services’ right across your back, labeling you as a target and an enemy for no other reason than just that. It was almost comical that you had a physical one on one scrap with an entire animatronic on the weekly, though the leftover scars weren’t very funny to the med team. As much as you hated the guy, you still fought against every suggestion to decommission him because deep down you knew that you could work it out. As long as he would let you, that is.

This situation was no different than any other, except right now, Moon had been giving you the slip for an entire two months. The weekly maintenance had been pushed back over and over again by his evasive maneuvers, some encounters ending with claw marks all over your forearms. Today you wouldn’t let him hide any longer though. You could now see the issues going on from the outside, and he would regret not getting maintenance done pretty soon. You’d have to really assert yourself now, because the worry you had for him was starting to get more and more genuine with each passing day. The first task would be to get him to lower his guard, which luckily, you knew exactly how to do.

You still needed to bring a coworker for safety reasons, but said coworker would be the bait. Your buddy Chad was the one coming with you this time, and he was always so easy to roast. One good joke would surely reveal Moon’s location and allow you to get in close to do your job. You were absolutely sure of it.

“Tell me why I need to accompany you again? Aren’t you head tech?” Chad groaned as the two of you pushed your way into the daycare with arms full of tools.

“The owners told me I need someone with me to minimize injury, remember?” You reminded him, throwing a dramatic glance at your still scarred arms.

“Ugh, right. And why is it so damn dark in here? I can’t see anything!” He complained further.

“Sun is afraid so Moon is out to do the hiding for him. He’s damn good at it, I will admit. He’s given me the slip for two months.” You sighed.

“Why don’t you just take him down and shock the bugger? It’s just a robot.”

“Chad please. Dumbasses like you are the reason Sun and Moon hate maintenance. There will be no shocking. How inhumane can you be?” You scolded.

“It’s a machine, _______.” He argued.

“Yeah? And you’re a tool. Wait, no. I take that back. Tools are actually useful, and you’re about as functional as a piece of scrap you moron.”

Chad was horrifically offended by this comment, but you weren’t the only one who found it funny. Moon laughed loudly in the background, enjoying how you mocked him so. This was perfect for you. He was easy to pinpoint now, and this would be your only chance. While Chad stood there like a fish with his mouth open, you left him alone and darted off in the direction of the laugh, throwing yourself into the darkness until you made full contact with a large body of metal. Tackling him to the ground, you sat atop Moon with a victorious smirk, quite proud of yourself.

“You gave yourself away~” You hummed.

“If you don’t get the hell off of me right now I will throw you so hard into the ground your skull will split open.” Moon threatened with a low growl, already preparing to get up and throw you down.

You gave Moon a hefty push with your body and leaned in close, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Look I know we’ve had our differences but I can see the wear and tear on you. Please let me help.” You pleaded in the softest voice you could muster. “I’m not going to change you, hurt you, or decommission you. I’m the new head tech. Whoever worked on you last time… Whatever they did, won’t be happening with me around. Please.”

Moon would’ve snapped one of your limbs by now if it wasn’t for your tone. He’d never seen you look at him so desperately before. He was used to your angry expression you always wore when you gave chase to him. Or perhaps… It wasn’t anger. He analyzed those memories in silence, deciphering the possibility of your previous motives being genuine and worried. He thought that his scanners may have gone out of whack, which really reinforced how badly he needed work done, because he finally realized that your current request was out of desperation at this point.

“You’re awfully quiet so I’m going to take that as a yes.” You said, sitting back up on him. “Chad! Bring me my tools!”

The man responded to your call and dragged over your massive toolbox, thankful for it’s wheels. He finally located you and whistled, impressed by how you had Moon pinned.

“Ah, you got him! You sure he’s gonna stay down or do you need me to give him a shock or two here and there?’ He snickered.

Moon stopped analyzing you after hearing that and shifted his angry, red eyes at Chad. The shocked expression he wore morphed into an even meaner one, teeth gnashed as he tried to get up again. But, he stopped. Why? You spoke.

“Get the hell out of the daycare Chad. Before I make you.” You threatened, shooting your own glare of pure anger at him.

“What? What did I do?”

“Your comments are unwarranted. If you’re going to casually disrespect Moon and throw around jokes about shocking him, you can leave. You don’t get second chances from me.” You explained further.

“But I have to stay! It’s required! You’ve been attacked before! It’s just a damn robot _______!” He argued again.

“I don’t give a damn if both of my arms went missing this very moment by his hand. Get the hell out of my workspace NOW.” You yelled with such guttural force he even felt it in his chest.

He didn’t notice when you got a wrench in your hand, but by the time he did, he almost lost his head. You threw it at him violently enough to scare the hell out of him and send him running, leaving you alone in the daycare with Moon. A deep sigh finally left you now that you were at peace, and you turned your attention back to Moon.

“I am so sorry about him. He will not be present ever again.” You said in a much calmer tone. “Can I still work on you? I need to make sure, even though you’ve very clearly avoided me for two months… ahah.”

Little clicks and whirrs were all you heard for a moment as the intensity of the red glow in his eyes dimmed. Eventually, he did respond to you, which was a surprise since you’d rarely heard from him at all.

“Fine. You’re the last technician that gets a chance. One wrong move, and you’re dead.” Moon finally agreed, working off of how genuine you sounded and hoping that you were truly not going to hurt him.

“Oh thank you. God that’s a relief.” You breathed out, leaning back against his propped up legs for a moment. “In that case, I’m gonna open up your chest plate and get started, m’kay? You let me know if anything feels wrong.”

He’d never been asked that before. No one has ever asked him to give warning when things felt off, let alone warned him of what they were going to be doing next. He watched in a stupor as you flicked on your dim headlamp and carefully popped open his chest plate, handling him as if he were made of porcelain. You did that consistently too. Every time you touched something new, you warned him beforehand. You were probably the only one who knew how well those touch sensors of his worked and how deep they ran, so he watched cautiously as you went about your work.

“Hey, There’s a couple frayed wires in here. One of them is related to your sense of touch, so there’s a chance something weird might happen. Let me know if anything cuts off while I disconnect them to strip them and get them back together.” You said.

“Why do you keep telling me everything you’re doing?” Moon finally asked.

“Why? Why not is a better question. I don’t want you to be afraid of maintenance anymore. You deserve to know what’s happening to your body without getting shocked for it.” You replied softly.

“... You’re the first one to ever consider that for- OW!”

Moon jumped a little while you fiddled with the wires. Instantly you held the copper ends together with your fingers and began to fret, hoping he wouldn’t throw you off of him while you held it steady.

“I’m sorry! These were the ones I was talking about. They’re frayed so badly… But I do have a work around so it won’t hurt again. Can I… continue?” You asked again.

“... Yes.”

Relieved, you nodded and kept the wires pinched between your fingers. They were hot. Hotter than you had hoped thanks to the mass amounts of current running through them, but if you let go it would cause another shock of pain. For some reason when they disconnected they did that, so you held firm to them and carefully stripped away the old casing on either end. It was harder to do with the searing pain in your left hand, but you got it done and twisted the fresh ends together before covering it with heat shrink tubing. The wires were hot enough on their own to shrink it perfectly, leaving nothing exposed.

You nodded when you were done and continued the rest of your work, mostly doing assessments. There was some rust you cleaned up, a bit of tuning up to the fans, nothing too serious at all. The only real issue was the motherboard which had some failing connections and a processor that was far too out of date. That would have to be taken care of down in the actual parts and services area where you could better complete your job. For now though, you considered the checkup done and closed his chest cavity, grabbing a can of WD-40 and giving all his joints a little spray to keep movement smooth.

“Alright, I’m done!” You announced proudly. “You still need a diagnostics check with our head programmer, but this should be enough for today. I can come with you for the check, if that would make you feel better. I’ll give them hell too if they try anything stupid.”

Surprised that you were done and he experienced little to no pain compared to before, he stared at you blankly before nodding. “We would… Like that.”

“Perfect! We’re taking steps in the right direction then~” You said cheerily, flashing him a big thumbs up.

He noticed the burn now. Your thumb was blistered and red with a pointer finger to match, clearly singed from how long you held the wires in place. He surprisingly took your hand and sat up a little, inspecting the injury you inflicted upon yourself for his sake.

“You’re hurt…”

“Ah it’s nothing. I just forgot my gloves.” You brushed off.

“You burned yourself on that wire, didn’t you? And your arms… were my fault.” He said again, looking over the clear scarring that wrapped around either of your forearms. “I thought…”

“You thought I would hurt you, and you had every right to protect yourself. For your benefit, I did chase you with a wrench on more than one occasion. I am a bit of a menace myself.” You chuckled. “I just needed a different tactic. I’m glad that being honest was the one that worked.”

“... Maybe you’re not so bad.” He mumbled.

“I could say the same about you~”

He groaned and let go of your hand, his fans kicking into high gear. There was some clicking and the sound of strained metal, which made you curious. It was near his head, and that’s when you realized it.

“Who… Who the hell installed your face plate? You’re not emoting correctly. God- Do I have to do everything in this damn place?” You sighed. “Tilt your head up a little please?”

He was confused, but did so. All along the seam where sunbeams would normally poke out, you could see the misaligned plates. With a fair warning, you gave the back a sturdy knock and wiggled them back into place, which revealed a couple of disconnected wires just hanging about at the back of his head. You connected them, and the magic really started to kick in. When you leaned back, the expression he really tried to make earlier came forth, showing how flustered he really was by everything. His face was no longer stuck on just angry expressions, and thanks to those wires, a blush bloomed on his features while his eyes shifted to a soft blue.

“There we go! All your expressions work perfectly now! I knew something was still off. You’re lookin’ mighty cute now~” You teased.

“Knock it off you foolish mechanic.” Moon groaned again, knocking your back with his leg to force you forward and into his chest where he hugged you. “Don’t look at my face.”

“I designed your face, silly~. I kinda have to look anyway. You mad that I revealed more than one emotion from you~?” You snorted.

“... No.” He sighed. “Can I… request that you be the only one who works on us? No one else ever does our maintenance with as much care and consideration.”

“Of course! I was actually going to submit a personal request to not let any other workers from parts and services work on you without me present. I won’t hesitate to break anyone's fingers who touch you without my authorization. There won’t be any more shocks in your future.” You nodded, resting your chin on your hands with your elbows pressed into his chest.

The look Moon gave you was so incredibly soft you almost couldn’t believe your own handiwork. Yes you designed it, but the fact that such a sweet expression came from Moon was amazing and adorable. You scoffed and leaned forward, kissing the top of his head affectionately and laughing when he flared up an even brighter blue.

“I think I did a mighty fine job with how expressive you are now. Damn I’m good~” You hummed.

“Yeah. Not so bad at all I guess.” He muttered, forcing you back down into a hug.

You accepted it more openly this time, snickering while you wrapped your arms around his form. It was warm; one of the warmest hugs you’ve ever had. Surprising for someone who spent his time trying to kill you for the past two months. Before the moment could get any nicer though, the door to the daycare swung open again. You knew who that would be.

“Oi! You done in here yet?” Chad called out. “Oh. OH. Should I uh, leave you two alone or…”

“Moon let me go.” You muttered.

Moon did not question you and released his grip on you. The rage flared up inside your eyes once again as you slid off of Moon and whipped around to stare at Chad with your full height.

“Get outta here before I give you a new hole where the sun don’t shine.” You threatened.

“Hey I’m not the one topping an animatronic.” He snorted.

“CHAD YOU BETTER START RUNNING BEFORE YOU END UP SIX FEET UNDER!”

You threw yourself in his general direction once again and sent the man screaming like a little girl out of the daycare. You pursued him regardless, leaving your tools behind and intending to give him a good run for his money with nothing but your bare hands. Moon still sat on the floor, wondering if he should’ve stopped you. His job was to protect, but Chad was someone he wasn’t too interested in protecting. Instead he snickered, watching you dart back and forth after him through the door you left open.

“... That’s kind of attractive.” He huffed, admiring the way you projected your hostility at someone else in the name of protecting him for once.

You definitely weren’t so bad after all.

#moon x reader #fnaf moon x reader #fnaf moon #moon #fnaf #fnaf fan fiction #for a contest lol #fluff #enemies to lovers #cursing #fnaf security breach #security breach x reader #would've loved to put sun in #but sun is to nice to be an enemy #moon on the other hand #my favourite little dick head <3

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littlepadika · 3 years ago

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Hi!! Can I please request 💕Din, 🔥enemies to lovers, 💅dom!reader ??? Thank you!!☺️☺️☺️

OOOH I love dom!reader with Din mwahahaha this one is hot and takes a nosedive into soft. Your fave @axshadows?

500 follower celebration

Warnings: Male receiving oral, Dom reader

Din despised you. Whenever he'd be close to catching a bounty you would swoop in and finish the job yourself, stealing his thunder. You didn't do any work yourself. Din tried everything to shake you from his trail. He tried to lay a trap, he tried to split the reward, he even tried to kill you once. Nothing worked. You always slipped through his grasp.

Your conflict was coming to a head as Karga was tired of the constant bickering.

"Work it out you two or no pucks."

"Find someone else to steal from." Din glared up at you from his seat.

"But I like annoying you, Mando." You smirked. "Fine..." You groaned dramatically. "How about a deal? We both go after the same bounty. If you get him first then I'll leave you alone."

"You'll just come and steal it at the last second like you always do." Din shook his head.

"I'll play fair. I'll even give you a head start."

"I don't need a head start." Din leaned forward menacingly only you weren't scared at all. In fact you smiled.

"Let me finish." You held up your hands. "If you win, I leave you alone. If I win, things proceed as usual and you can't complain. Do we have a deal?"

"If I win, you should give me all the credits you stole from me."

"No way. Finders keepers."

Din grit his teeth under his helmet. Your little grin made something inside him ball up tight and sometimes he just wanted to throw you over his lap and-and- he didn't let himself think those things right now.

"I want a better deal." He folded his arms.

"You're not exactly in a position to negotiate. I'm perfectly happy with our current arrangement."

You loved playing with Mando, making him stutter and sigh. It started off as a power trip, making a Mandalorian putty in your hands. He tried to kill you once but he hesitated at the last moment. You realized his hatred for you wasn't pure, it was tangled with need. You knew he would miss you if you just left him by himself and you sure as hell would miss him too.

"How about..." You saunter over to him, perching yourself on the table in front of him. You saw him stiffen immediately, clenching his hands into fists on the seat below. "If you win... you can do whatever you want to me. You could try and kill me again, but something tells me that's not what you really want." You watched as the visor of his helmet turned towards you. You felt your heart pound faster knowing you had him in your grasp. "See... you could shut me up with a bullet in my skull or with your cock in my mouth. Decisions decisions, Mando."

With you left him dumbstruck at the table.

"Karga- We've reached a deal. One puck and we'll make it a race."

"One puck huh?"

"And don't make it an easy one." You hold your hand out. Karga rolls his eyes shoving two pucks into your hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was a close one. Both of you were at the same cantina spying on the target. You happened to have more natural assests that drew the targets attention. What an idiot, you smirked ready to drop the sedative into his glass. What you didn't expect was for Din to blast the idiot to hell from across the cantina.

"I win." Din cheered, strolling up to pull the lifeless body off the counter.

"We said bring him in warm!" You glared at Mando.

"We never agreed on that."

"Didn't we?" You frowned.

Mando shook his head. He lugged the body over his shoulder with ease. "Come on, let's get out of here before the imps are on us."

Outside on the street it hit you that Mando won the bet technically. This would maybe be the last time you saw him if what he asked as reward was for you to leave him forever. The warmth in the pit of your stomach hoped that he'd ask for something different.

"You won, Mando." You stopped at the end of the street. He turned, the bounty still on his shoulder. "My ship is that way. Shall I take off never to return?"

The breeze made his cape flutter, but otherwise he was a statue. Conversely it made you squirm where you stood, tugging at your shirt which now felt too tight for some reason.

"No." He said quietly, so quiet you almost missed it.

"Then what do you want?"

"Will you let me put the bounty away before we talk?"

"Fine." You shrugged nonchalantly though you were still nervous. "Lead on."

You had never been on Mando's ship before. It was dirty and breaking down but it softened him. Gave him some personality. He was less intimidating. The clutter and dusty knick knacks made him so human.

"So..." You place your hands on your hips trying to project confidence though you were becoming more and more anxious. "What'll it be, Mando?" Was this the end?

Din was freaking out. He stood on a shaky pedestal he had built to stand up to you. He had only pretended to be arrogant and capable. He played into his appeal towards you but now the game had ended. He was proud of his abilities to catch bounties, track targets, to kill, but his confidence ended there. He had no skills when it came to sex let alone with pretty women like you. You expected so much from him from the way you teased and talked crudely. Din knew he’d never live up to that. He didn’t even know where to start. His desire was bottled up in him with no clear outlet. Just a general direction towards you.

"Mando?" Your gaze softened a little. You realized perhaps he wasn’t going to send you away. You almost smiled as he rocked on his heels. The nervous tick was strangely endearing.

"I'm not going to kill you. I want-" Din struggled to find the words. "What you said in the cantina. You said I could silence you..."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. What did you say? You couldn’t remember-

"When you said I could put my-my cock in your mouth." Din felt his cheeks heat up. He felt himself harden in is pants just at the dirty word.

"Did I say that?" You chuckled. “I guess I did. Is that what you want?"

Din nodded. He waited for you to take charge, tell him what to do, but for some strange reason you were waiting for him.

"You've never done this have you?" You realized, your smile falling off your face. You felt bad for how you treated him this whole time. Maker, you probably made him uncomfortable.

"No." Din looked down in shame. "Fuck-This was dumb. Just go away."

"Mando..." You stepped towards him placing a hand on his arm. The first time you've really touched him. "I'm sorry. I wasn't judging. Most guys don’t like me to be in charge.”

Din cringed further at the mention of your copious previous experience.

“Mando… look at me please-“ and he did feeling some of his dread subside. Your warm reassuring hand felt so good. “I'm happy to show you everything. I want to make you feel good. If that’s what you want.”

“I’m sorry.” He grumbled. He hated feeling so vulnerable. He wanted to explain himself, give excuses for his lack of experience, but the truth was he hadn’t found anyone he was interested in until you.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. Now will you let me do this for you?” He looked at you, searching for honesty. There wasn’t a hint of disgust or doubt on your face.

Din nodded, feeling his stomach lurch in excitement. He felt safe with you which was another completely foreign feeling for him.

“Thank you, good boy.” The word shot through him, making him stand up straighter. You chuckled. “You like that?”

Din nodded shyly.

“Go and sit down.” You pointed at the crate against the wall. Din obeyed looking at you again for acknowledgement. You smiled kneeling down below him. “Good boy. See you’re a pro already.” Din blushed at your praise wanting to continue pleasing you. You slid your hands up his thighs slowly. “You can stop me at any point. Just say stop. My only rule is you have to tell me if I’m making you feel good. I wanna hear you.”

Din nodded his understanding. You raised an eyebrow. “Okay.” He said.

“Good boy. I know you can’t remove your armor which is fine. But can I take your cock out?”

Din nodded biting his lip. His dick was already straining against its confines. He exhaled sharply as you tugged down his waistband just far enough to pull him out. The only piece of skin exposed.

“You’re beautiful, Mando.” You cooed, stroking the warm length gently. You couldn’t wait to feel him in your mouth. A low broken cry cracked the voicecoder. “That’s it… feel good baby?” You stare right into his visor. Din swallowed harshly and nodded rapidly trying to keep from blowing his load.

“Tell me.” You reminded him of the rule.

“Yes!” He huffed. “It feels good. Please more.”

“We’re just getting started.” You promised opening you mouth and letting a dollop of saliva hit the head of his cock.”

“Oh Kriff…” Din pounded his fist against the crate. You continued your slow movements. You didn’t want to push him. He seemed lost in pleasure and you felt yourself warm at his trust in you. You slowly lowered your mouth on him, keeping your suction soft. He whined above you, his thighs flexing under your hands. You flicked your eyes up to him. His head was thrown back. You could see just a small slice of golden neck. He was sucking air between his teeth. The edges of the crate groaned under his grip.

“So-so good.” He mumbled between shallow breaths. You chuckled. He was trying so hard poor thing.

“It’s okay if you cum, Mando. I want you to.”

“But-“ Din’s hips jerked up into your hands. “What about you? I want to- I want-“

“Shh I know baby boy.” You chuckled at his eagerness. Already wanting to jump ahead. “We’ll get there but first you’re going to cum in my mouth.”

And almost on instinct he did, hunching over as ropes and ropes slid into your hot mouth.

“Oh fuck…” He croaked. It was better than anything he had done on his own. Your hot mouth and tongue had brought him so high only to let him plummet into his pleasure with no safety net. He was totally out of control. He didn’t hate it though. He loved it. He wanted more.

He came so much it made your pussy tighten longingly. His groans and sighs were gorgeous. You moaned, getting the last drops.

“Good boy…” You started stroking him back to full mast again. Surging with control and pride.

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

My masterlist

Permanet Taglist: @ajeff855 5 @what-iwish-you-knew @kirsteng42 @fan-of-encouragement t @sleep-tight1 @pascalisfairyy @ceniington, @prettypedros 🧁, @pascal-rascal424 @axshadows @prideandpascal @frenchyjuju @pedrosmustache @blackmarketmummy @idreamofboobear @pretty-brown-eyess @persephones-garden @javierpinme @mylittlesenaar @bellaorisa @elinedjarin @beskarboobs @beskar-candy

Din Djarin taglist: @a-skov @pasckles

#din djarin smut #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #sub!din #mando x you #the mandolarian #mando smut #padika's request game #follower celebration #ashley #pedro pascal fanfiction

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jeongjaebae · 3 years ago

Text

Maybe we'll just keep fallin'

⇢ Juyeon x reader, 3.4k, exes to lovers ⇢ A reunion at an amusement park reminds you of what it feels like to fall.

You've never hated Eric more than at this moment.

He gives you a big smile right when he sees you walking towards where the group is gathered near the entrance of the amusement park, and then runs towards you with his arms stretched out to squeeze the breath out of you.

"Hey," you greet with an attempt at a smile, hoping he doesn't notice the way your mood suddenly falls. "Long time no see."

"Y/N, I've missed you so much!" Eric's hug is even tighter than the last time you've seen him—a clear indication that he's been working out in college because those arms are even stronger as they lift you in a spin that takes you by surprise.

This amusement park trip would've been a perfect excursion on this perfect sunny day; a reunion of friends after a few years and a number of kilometers apart. And you had indeed been looking forward to it up until this point, having excitedly packed your bag and planned your outfit the night before.

However, no one had told you that he would be here too.

You knew it wasn't Eric's fault for inviting the both of you though, for he probably doesn't know about what happened. And when you join the rest of the group, it becomes quite obvious that none of them knew about it. It's as if they were all frozen in time, in the same spot as they stood all those years ago, back when your memories of this very amusement park had been overflowing with feelings for him.

It's not Eric's fault because Juyeon's Instagram remains untouched. Still filled with old pictures of the two of you long after what happened.

"It's nice to see all of you again," you say as you reach the others, looking at each of them one at a time. You wanted nothing more than to avoid looking at Juyeon the entire day, but it's something you couldn't get out of if you wanted to keep pretending everything was fine.

Juyeon was the first one you'd spotted from afar, having immediately recognized his all too familiar figure. But up close, he seems to have changed quite a bit. Like Eric, he definitely bulked up and is no longer super skinny, and then there's the way his skin glows and how his hair falls into place perfectly even with the wind blowing against it. And who wears such nice clothes to an amusement park? He's so stupidly perfect and unaffected that it pisses you off. The only thing that gives you a bit of satisfaction is seeing how he immediately stiffens after seeing you.

Maybe it would be easy to remember that he's no longer the boy you once loved when he seems so different now.

"Alright, let's go!" Eric shouts.

You knew that it was going to be a very long day.

***

"What's wrong? You don't like rollercoasters anymore?" Jacob asks. He raises an eyebrow at the way you eyed the ride all too warily.

You'd joined the line with the rest of them but there's a sense of dread in your steps that hadn't been there before. And while it wouldn't be your first time on this ride, the huge drop no longer seemed as appealing as it once did. Maybe you've developed a bit of a fear.

"I just hate the feeling of falling now," you say, then shrug when Hyunjae shoots you a strange look. "People change, I guess."

When your eyes flicker over to Juyeon intentionally, he's already staring at you.

Sometime while in line, the others all pair up with their seatmates, leaving you and Juyeon at the back together. Maybe it would've reminded you of the time they intentionally left you together when trying to set you up, but things are different now. It annoys you now.

You sigh. "Let's just get this over with."

As you climb into your seat with Juyeon following right behind you, suddenly you get an idea.

"Here, let me get this for you." You shoot him a smile before grabbing the safety bar and pushing it down on him as far as it would go, locking him into the seat with a click. It's much tighter than it needs to be and probably digs into his stomach if his grimace is any indication. Perfect. "Enjoy the ride!"

Then you walk out the other way. Leaving him without a seatmate on the rollercoaster.

A look of utter disbelief spreads on his face and you simply laugh before heading to the exit, where you would wait for his ugly photos to come out. Not that he could ever be ugly, but one could still hope.

As the rollercoaster takes off and he's still glancing at you looking betrayed, there's no time for guilt. Because he was going to go on the ride anyways, you tell yourself. What difference did it make whether it was with or without you? And besides, strapping him in tighter could've been to ensure his safety; it's almost funny how the things we do for the people we love actually end up hurting them the most.

Several minutes later, Juyeon comes back with his hair dishevelled and a frown on his face. Bothered, but still silent. You count that as a win because unfortunately for you, his photos turn out looking just fine. In fact, they turn out all too similar to the set you once carried around in your phone case—the same ride and the same expression, only the seat beside him hadn't been empty in that one.

He doesn't say anything as you take out your phone to quickly snap a photo of the preview on the screen, calling him ugly the entire time anyways.

The loud noises and flashy lights in every direction try to grab your attention as heading to the next ride has you walking through all the carnival games in the park. Prizes are dangling at every stall, the smell of colourful snacks and the cheerful voices of children filling the air. For a while, you don't mind it when Juyeon falls into step beside you at the back of the group.

Until his hand accidentally brushes yours. And his touch sends you reeling.

"You okay?" his eyes flash with concern. He hangs back to wait for you while the rest of the group continues on without notice.

"Yup," you slap on the most dazzling fake smile you could muster. "Never been better."

It was a close call; for a second you thought your resentment towards him faltered like your feet did.

They've stopped at a beanbag toss game where Hyunjae points out how much Sunwoo looks like the raccoon plushie hanging in the section of prizes, and Changmin is taking bets that Sangyeon's bad luck would make him lose every game he plays. Juyeon bets against it. You bet for it.

The man running the game gestures dramatically, beckoning your group over. "See something you like? Step right up! Only three tickets to win the biggest prizes in the entire park."

Normally you would've walked away. Everyone knows that carnival games are rigged so there was no point in wasting your tickets, but once again, an idea occurs. Three tickets to get a chance to hit your ex? Hell yeah, you were definitely in.

The man gives you a wink as you go to hand in your three measly tickets, with Juyeon following closely behind. You had a feeling he would participate too, though you don't know why.

As you settle into your spot at the counter, you realize that the booth is quite empty. None of your friends are there anymore, somehow having disappeared so suddenly without a trace—leaving you alone with Juyeon once again.

"Why are they always putting us together," you mutter under your breath.

"Because they don't know about—"

"Yeah, no shit." You roll your eyes at him. Why was he answering a rhetorical question anyways? "Whatever. Let's get on with the game already."

When the game starts, Juyeon is oblivious beside you as he concentrates on the distance to the target. Competitive as usual, you assume, though this time it wouldn't be for the purpose of winning you a giant plushie like he did before. And the old you might've tried to get a good score to impress him, but the new you isn't like that anymore.

You almost feel bad when you take a step away from the booth and gaze at the back of his head. There's a sense of hesitation because does he really deserve this? Getting your revenge when he's not even looking is a little too harsh isn't it? But you quickly wipe those thoughts away. One beanbag to the head isn't going to make up for all the times he promised not to break your heart yet ended up doing it anyways.

Juyeon whips around and gives you a hard stare after your beanbag successfully strikes the back of his head and then lands at his feet. Bullseye!

"Oh, did I hit you?" Your voice drips with a sarcastic sweetness. "Oops, sorry."

The rest of your beanbags are tossed messily without really caring where they land now that you've accomplished your goal, and his shots seem too distracted after getting hit.

He remains impassive as the two of you find your way back to the rest of your friends who appear just as suddenly as they disappeared.

"That was a nice shot." Hyunjae gives you a high-five. The way Juyeon glances at him sharply almost makes you burst out laughing. "Too bad you didn't win a prize."

You don't tell him that it might be even better than winning a prize. "You saw that? But where did you guys go?"

"Oh um, Eric kind of had an emergency. In the bathroom." Hyunjae gives you a wry smile then takes off before you could ask more.

You stick with Sunwoo for the rest of the day, clinging onto him so closely that he has no opportunity to leave you with your ex again. He occasionally gives you questioning glances and you feel slightly embarrassed; it wasn't your intention to make things awkward, but surely your friends should've all sensed something strange by now? Surely they couldn't still see you and Juyeon as a couple?

The last jab you took at him was on the spinning teacup ride, a final ride at the end of the day just as the sun was setting. The rest of your group had split themselves equally into two teacups, leaving no room for the two of you though you could see through the way they intentionally sprawled themselves across the seats to fill up the space.

So once again, you were left with Juyeon. But this time, you don't complain because you had another plan up your sleeve.

As soon as the ride starts along with the horrible carnival music, you're grabbing the wheel at the center and turning it as fast as you could. It makes the teacup spin and spin, round and round until the rest of the world is a blur of lights and colours around you. Somehow it makes the teacup feel all too small. It's as if you and Juyeon were the only ones existing as everything else blends together.

"Y/N, stop," he shouts at some point, but you pay no attention as your hands continue to move the steering wheel mechanically. "You're going to get dizzy!"

And he's right. Because eventually the teacup slows to a full stop, but the world continues to spin and prevents you from getting to your feet and walking out.

"Are you okay?" Juyeon reaches for you then pulls back at the last moment. "Why did you spin it so much?"

Just seeing the way he looks perfectly fine standing there makes you feel the contents of your stomach churn. His perfect face and his perfect hair and his perfectly indifferent expression. Had your plan backfired? At this point, could anything you do even affect him the way his presence affected you so much?

You attempt at getting to your feet again and it just barely works this time. "Ugh, why aren't—you dizzy—"

"You spun it that hard just to get me dizzy?" Juyeon's voice gives no hints to what he's thinking.

"Shut up."

His touch stings when he ends up wrapping an arm around you, holding you up as you walk out of the ride together. Usually you would've thrown him off and pushed him away, but in your state of trying not to die, you give in and let him guide you to a pavilion with some picnic benches.

"Sit here."

It's quieter here when you're out of the crowd. A little easier to breathe. You focus on the way the air tastes, cooler now that the sun has gone down but still lingering with the sweetness of cotton candy from a nearby vendor. The world slows down and finally stills under your feet, and the waves of nausea quickly recede.

"Why are you doing all this?" Juyeon blurts, and you can finally see something underneath those unreadable eyes of his. The whole day he's put up with your antics without ever saying anything, but now you could see the blaze the lies just beneath the surface.

It feels like a taste of victory.

"Doing what?"

"You know what."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say carefully.

He gives an exasperated sigh, pacing around in front of the bench you sat at. "Do you hate me that much?"

"I—"

Yes, you wanted to say. Because hating him has never left your mind for the past few years. Because you did want to resent him. To hurt him the way that he hurt you when he decided to cut off all ties with you so your long-distance relationship wouldn't hold you back during college. Maybe he'd thought it was the right thing to do but it was such a stupid reason and he was so stupid and—it all hurt. So yes, maybe you'd imagined getting your revenge someday when you met him again.

But doing all those things today didn't make you feel any better and seeing him like this is different from what you'd imagined.

Juyeon's steps finally stop, and he sits down on the bench beside you. "If you do, it's okay. I get it. I would hate me too."

A silence settles in between you and the crickets in the background are almost too loud. The last of the sun's fading glow surrender to a blanket of darkness that contrasts with the warm glow of the fairy lights in the small pavilion. Being here in any other context might be romantic. It reminds you all too much of what happened the first time.

"Why?" you ultimately ask despite already knowing the answer. "Why would you hate yourself?"

"For hurting you. For even thinking that we'd be better off apart because the past four years have only made me miserable with regret," he admits. "So yes, hurt me. Let out your pain." He pounds on his chest a couple of times and then stretches his arms out, waiting. "I can take it. Just don't hurt yourself."

"Juyeon..."

The amount of times you'd wished to hear those words over the years. He did call that one time, though your roommates had taken your phone and blocked him before you could get a chance to find out what he might've said. It was something that you'd wondered about during the times you'd drank a little too much, when you'd cried over nothing, when the feeling of falling had become falling into the depths of darkness instead of falling in love like it once was.

Maybe now, you're finally getting your answer.

Your fists are weak where they collide with his chest repeatedly, one after another, as if doing so would make his heart hurt as much as yours did. And he just takes it.

But then he's wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close until you give in. Until you completely melt against him. Until there's the warmth of his body against you and the tears that slip down your cheeks land on his shirt.

"Y/N, you have no idea how much I missed you," he whispers, breath coming out against your hair where he runs his hand through like he did before. "I'm sorry. For everything."

His scent enveloping you as he holds you, the dim glow of lights above you—it all reminds you of what happened all those years ago at this very place. It had been the same park and the same friends as today, but the exhilaration was from the way he grabbed your hand to pull your closer, not from being up high in that swing ride. The dizziness you'd felt was after he kissed you for the first time, and not from some spinning teacup ride. And when had the heart fluttering feeling of falling been from falling in love, and not simply from a rollercoaster ride?

But soon you do find yourself falling again.

It's not like the first time he kissed you here, when sparks fly and the world spins and your heart pounds so hard you thought it would burst. This time when his lips are on yours and he fits against you so perfectly, it's like coming home after being too far for too long. Everything feels so familiar yet new, like rereading your favourite book and rediscovering all of your favourite passages as you relearn each line and curve of his body. He may be different from what you remembered from all those years ago, but the way his gentle hands cup your cheeks, the brushing of his knees against yours, the way you can taste the salt of tears and faint sweetness of cotton candy on his lips. Everything is still so distinctly him, something that even the space and time between you couldn't ever change.

"Lee Juyeon," comes out in a whisper against his lips as you pull back to catch your breath, "you're so stupid."

"Only when it comes to you." He breaks into a smile, the first genuine smile that you've seen all day and it seems to light up the world. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. Even if it takes me the rest of my life."

"You're making this sound like a proposal."

Juyeon gives a choked laugh. "Um, not that I would be against it, but let's take this one step at a time first, yeah?"

And when you look at him, truly look at him, this time you can see the same boy you loved for all these years. You let those eyes draw you in and finally let yourself sink into the memories that you kept pushing away and burying. There's a tinge of pink on his cheeks and they're hot under your fingertips as you reach to pull him in again and—

"It's about time," a booming voice suddenly interrupts, making the two of you spring apart. Eric claps as he walks into the pavilion joined by the rest of the group, a mischievous smile on his face.

"It only took them all day," Sunwoo rolls his eyes. "I was dying over here when Y/N started following me around. Totally deserve an Oscar for my acting today."

"Hey, that's not true! I definitely noticed you giving me weird looks."

It's not surprising that your friends had known about the breakup after all, though you just hadn't expected them to have known even before this trip. The deja vu takes you back to the last time you were here, how your first kiss as a new couple was nearly interrupted by Eric's cheers and Sunwoo's expressions of disgust.

"Before you start freaking out—no, nobody told us," Eric says. "Nobody needed to because it was so obvious. We only pretended to not know in the hopes that you'd finally put each other out of your misery."

"And while it's good that you guys did, the highlight of this trip has got to be watching Y/N bully Juyeon all day," Hyunjae bellows and nods towards Juyeon. "I don't know what you did to deserve that, but you probably deserved it."

Soon there are sounds of laughter filling the pavilion and it makes your heart feel full in a way that you hadn't felt in a long time. As if there had been a weight you didn't even know you had on you, and now it's been lifted off your shoulders and you finally feel light enough to join in with their laughter.

As fireworks fill the night sky and Juyeon intertwines his fingers with yours on the walk back, it quickly becomes clear that the falling back together was as easy as it had been the first time.

#juyeon fic #the boyz fic #juyeon fluff #juyeon x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #tbz x reader #tbz x you #juyeon x you #tbz fic #juyeon scenarios #just some more writing practice~#bc what is getting back together with ur ex #unrelatable idk her #my fic #title is from fallin' (adrenaline) by why don't we!!!#why tf is this so long it was supposed to be 2.4k #anyways i love this juyeon but like #don't let ur ex crawl back into ur life yall!!!

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fanficimagery · 4 years ago

Text

A Baby Spark

Imagine it being almost two years since you've seen your family. You've been through some changes since you've been gone and you're surprised at how well your family just seems to roll with the punches. Then again your little sister is exactly how you remember her either.

Words: 8.7K Author's Note: I'm a weakass bitch who loves a good crossover. Hopefully I did these two fandoms some justice. I'm warning you right now there's a little violence in here.

Pacing in front of the couch out back in the studio, Julie opens her mouth to say something but snaps it shut and shakes her head as she mumbles to herself. For about ten minutes now she's been like this and Luke, Reggie, and Alex can only stare at her with dread slowly creeping in.

"Is she having a breakdown or something?" Reggie asks quietly, eyes following her back and forth. "I've never seen her like this."

"I don't know, but I'm starting to feel queasy," Alex says.

Luke rolls his eyes. "It's Julie. It's nothing bad," he says. "We all know she works herself up over nothing."

"Okay!" All three boys startle, jumping in their seats and practically clinging to one another. When they realize what they've done, they quickly let go and attempt to act cool. "So my sister is coming down for a visit and dad thinks we should ease her into the secret of you guys being ghosts."

"Your sister?" Alex wonders, intrigued. "She finally got in touch?"

"Yeah." Julie slowly smiles. "She, uh, she sounded weird on the phone. Really emotional. But she said she's ready to be home for a bit."

"Well you said you haven't seen each other face to face in almost two years," Reggie says. "It's understandable that she'd be emotional."

"True." Julie shrugs. "Anyway, you guys need to remember no vanishing into thin air or appearing from thin air while in the same room as her. We can't have her asking questions until we're ready to tell her."

"I think we can handle that." Luke nods, looking at the boys. "At least I'm pretty sure we can."

Alex nudges him, scoffing. "Of course we can."

"Okay. Good. Because she's going to be here any minute now."

"WHAT?!"

"I thought we had more time!"

"Aw man," Reggie whines. "What do I wear?"

- - - - - - - - - -

You pull up to your childhood home about twenty minutes after the sun has set, excited to see your family and the boys who had reintroduced your baby sister to music after your mom had passed. You'd been keeping up with her via social media and was shocked to see her performing with holograms. Something about the holograms didn't quite add up, but you didn't question it seeing as your sister was thriving with her newfound friendships.

You've barely shut the door to your rented vehicle when the front door swings open, and your baby brother and baby sister are barreling down the porch. You laugh at their enthusiasm, opening your arms wide and bracing yourself for the impact. The moment they hit you, you bring your arms down around them. "Oh my god. You guys have grown so much!"

"Well that's what happens when you don't visit. We grow up."

"Carlos!" Julie quickly reprimands him. She then glances up at you, chuckling nervously. "He didn't mean that."

"Of course he did," you muse. "He's a Molina. And it's not like he's wrong."

But your sister isn't having it. "You had valid excuses- school and then you were really sick that one time. It's okay."

Sick, you mentally scoff, if only it were that simple.

"Right. Well I'm home now and I plan to visit whenever I can in the future," you say. Carlos and Julie beam at you. "So come on. I'm starving and I really want to see dad and meet these phantoms."

Carlos releases you and immediately turns to run back inside, and Julie latches onto your arm as she walks side-by-side with you. The closer you get to the porch, the more a faint scent on the air tickles your nose. Then once on the porch, it's a little bit stronger and it has you tensing.

Julie notices as she continues to walk, only to be pulled back from where she's still connected to you. "What's wrong?"

Staring off the side where you know the gate is for the backyard, your nostrils slightly flare, but at the sound of Julie's voice you close your eyes and shake your head to clear it. "Nothing. I'm fine," you mumble. "I just- I thought I smelled burning wire or something." Looking forward and then towards your sister, you chuckle. "My roommate started a fire a couple weeks back. It's made me paranoid ever since."

The lie comes a little too easily and you feel guilty. But then Julie snorts, you breathe a little easier, and then the two of you make the rest of the way inside the house. The smell of home makes your shoulders sag and feel like a weight's been lifted off of you. You glance around the living room, smiling softly at various touches you knew your mother added and the fact that your dad's kept them as reminders of the love of his life. There are three familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time, faces sitting together on the couch. They stare at you, hesitant expressions on their faces until you smile and wave at them. The boy in a leather jacket is the first to smile back, waving, followed by the blonde and the shaggy haired brunette.

"That's Reggie, Alex, and Luke," Julie introduces them to you. "Guys, this is my older sister Y/N."

"Hey guys, it's nice to finally meet you face to face."

"Likewise," Alex says. "Julie's told us so much about you."

"Aw." You let go of Julie's arm just to wrap it around her head, she immediately struggling to get out of the headlock you put her in. You laugh, tugging on her curls. "You talk about me? Am I the cool older sister? You love me that much?" You tease her.

"Get. Off." Julie tries to shove you off, but the two of you just end up falling to the floor.

"Alright. Girl fight!" Reggie cheers. "I got money on the older Molina."

"I don't know," Alex muses. "Jules can be pretty feisty."

"Pft. No way." Carlos scoffs. "Y/N has this in the bag."

"How are you so freakishly strong?" Julie complains. "Did you start working out or something?"

"Or something," you laugh.

There's a sigh that has you looking up instantly. "You would think that my college-aged daughter would be adult enough to not wrestle her younger siblings on the floor."

"Dad!" Immediately you abandon your sister, flicking her forehead once for good measure, before launching yourself at your dad. "You're lookin' healthy, old man. The younger crotch goblins keeping you in line?"

"Hey!"

The boys laugh at Julie and Carlos' simultaneous shouts, and you wink at them before squeezing your dad a little bit longer. "How was the drive, mija?"

"It was fine," you say. "Long. And now I'm just ready to chow down."

"You have perfect timing then. The stew is ready, but now we're just waiting on Reggie's rolls to come out of the oven."

You dramatically gasp as you look towards the boy in question. "Not only is he cute, but he bakes too? Julie, you better husband that one up."

Two out of the three boys laugh as the other one frowns, and Julie rolls her eyes. "Shut up." Then looking out towards the group, she says, "Someone come help me set the table."

Your dad and Carlos head into the kitchen behind Julie, and you walk over towards the couch to sit on the armrest nearest Luke. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you squeeze. "Don't frown, biceps. I totally ship you and my sister. The two of you just ooze chemistry and I find it utterly adorable."

Alex groans. "Please don't say ooze again."

"Ooze," you deadpan. You look Alex in the eye. "Ooze. Ooze."

His nose wrinkles. "So you're the evil Molina. I know who Carlos takes after now."

All four of you chuckle and fall into a comfortable silence. However, as you sit there, you realize something odd. Everyone, human or not, has a scent. But these three boys next to you? There's no hint of B.O or cologne. Nothing. You frown as you stare at each one, at how human they appear to be, but before you can notice anything else your dad's calling out.

"Dinner's ready!"

You quickly paste on a smile as Luke and Reggie rush towards the kitchen. Alex sighs. "I would say sorry on their behalf, but then I'd be saying sorry the entire duration you're here because it's just how they are."

"I get it," you chuckle softly. "I have a friend like that. Stiles. He's- he's a lot to handle sometimes."

Dinner is quite the affair and you can't help but be in awe with how these three boys have brought life back into your home. When your mom passed, it was like the life was sucked out of everyone. There were no smiles, there was no laughing, and everyone seemed to lose interest in something. You almost didn't go back to school, instead choosing to look after Julie and Carlos, but from one day to the next it was like your dad snapped out of his grief and started looking after the kids again. So you went back to school, kept up with your schoolwork, got.. sick, and finally had enough strength to visit your family. You wanted it to be a happy family reunion, so you'll be damned if three charming boys took advantage of your family.

The following day is spent with just your family and a brief visit made by Flynn, but throughout the entire day you can't help but notice something is off. Every now and then it feels like the temperature drops or you have an overwhelming feeling of being watched or you catch Julie mumbling towards nothing but thin air. Your little sister acts highly suspicious, but she plays it off every time you call attention to it.

On your third day home, however, your family's been out grocery shopping when you decide to visit your mom's studio. It's the first time you've gone out back since you've been home, so of course the scent that first put you on edge hits you full force. Annoyance immediately sets in and you follow the musky scent which leads you to the studio. Hearing voices inside makes you freeze and you tilt your head to get a better listen.

The three voices are Luke, Reggie, and Alex, and while that should be weird since no one is home.. it's not the oddest thing. The oddest thing is that while you can hear them talking and the hum of their amps, that's all you hear. No heartbeats.

Pulling open the door, all three boys look like deer caught in headlights. "Hey, boys." You quirk an eyebrow at them, walking in and taking a little pleasure in watching them squirm. "Whatcha up to out here?"

"Oh, um," Alex stammers, "R-Ray lets us practice out here whenever we want."

"Mhm." You glance at Reggie, his demeanor entirely too soft to threaten. Instead you glance at Luke and realize he'll be the one revving for a fight if you go after the other two. So you set your sights on him. "I'm sure my mom would have adored you boys." Walking around Luke, you step close and trail a finger along the strap of his guitar. "Well at least she would have adored whatever it is you boys are." The boys all seem to cease breathing and quick as lightning you grab a fistful of Luke's shirt and bring his face close to yours. "So tell me, Luke, what are you?"

His eyes blow wide. "W-What? I'm a d-dude. Human!"

"Wrong answer." Eyes flash gold and you can feel the teeth in your mouth shifting. Luke seems to lose what little color he had left in his cheeks. "You have no scent. You have no heartbeat! So tell me what you are."

Luke gapes at you until all of a sudden he completely vanishes out of your grip. You growl, eyes darting all over the place.

"What am I? What the hell are you?!"

You whirl around, snarling, and startling all three boys. All three are gaping, staring wide-eyed as they take in the full picture of what you are. Of what you had to become. "Why are you messing with my family?"

You're so caught up with the boys that you're not listening to your senses and completely miss the fact that your family has gotten home. You're caught off guard as Julie walks through the studio door and you take a step back as Julie's erratic heart nearly makes you whine.

"I- what?" She mutters. You exhale shakily and you can feel your face shifting back to normal. "Y/N?"

"I can explain," you tell her softly. She stares at you, fear wafting off of her and making your nose itch. "But first your boys need to come clean. They're not exactly what they look like." All four- FOUR!- suddenly fidget nervously and your eyes narrow. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

She numbly nods her head. "Yes. Dad and Carlos too. B-But it's nothing as crazy as whatever is going on with you." She gulps. "Which, by the way, what- what even are you?"

You sigh, backing up until you're plopping down onto an armchair. You gesture to the couch across from you and watch as the three boys keep themselves between you and Julie until they're all on the couch. "Remember when I was sick? And the doctor said I had a fifty-fifty chance of surviving?"

She frowns. "Yeah. But what-"

"He was lying to you. I didn't have a fifty-fifty chance. I was going to die. No ifs, ands, or buts about it."

"How would you know that?"

"Because my roommate could smell death on me," you say. Julie, Luke, Reggie, and Alex all blink at you. "The thing you need to know, Jules, is that pretty much every supernatural creature we grew up reading about is real."

Alex gulps. "Witches?" You nod.

"Vampires?" Luke starts to grin. You nod again.

"Werewolves?" Reggie wonders, awe already filling his features.

You glance at him and flash your eyes. "What do you think I am?" You muse. His eyes widen, but then a smile breaks out and you breathe a little easier. At least he won't be running from you. "Anyway, she literally smelled me rotting from the inside out. So when she really grew concerned, she went to one of her alphas and told him what was going on with me."

"Wait. One of her alphas?"

"Yeah." You shrug. "It's a whole pack, the Hale-McCall pack. There's two alphas within the ranks and instead of protecting one little town they decided to spread out. Scott protects Beacon Hills since that's where he lives and Derek came down south to expand our territory. We're kind of all spread out in California with two ally packs further up north."

"Okay so this is all interesting, but how does that explain how or why you changed?" Julie asks.

"Oh. Right." You sigh. "Well Cora- my roommate- didn't want me to die. She came to me and asked me that if there was a cure of sorts, a way that only granted me a fifty-fifty chance of survival rather than a hundred percent death, if I would take it. I asked for more of an explanation and she showed me what she was while explaining more about the supernatural world. So I said I wanted the cure. And then I met her brother Derek."

"Who and what is Derek?" Your sister asks.

"A werewolf. An alpha werewolf to be exact," you tell your audience. "Only the bite of an alpha werewolf can turn someone, but at that it's only a fifty-fifty chance. So I took it since it was more of a chance than I originally had and I became a beta werewolf."

"Is this why you stayed away?"

"I had to. Turning isn't as simple as it sounds. I had to learn control and I had to learn to protect myself. I might be stronger and faster and not entirely human, but there are people out there who train to kill people like me. It wasn't safe for any of us if I were to come so soon after becoming a werewolf."

Julie nervously shifts. "And it's safe now?"

"Yeah. We have some friends in the Hunter community, and Scott and Derek have been working hard to mend bridges between everyone. Since Derek approves of my control, he said it was okay for me to come."

Luke huffs. "You call this control? You attacked me."

"Can you blame me?" You raise an eyebrow at him. "I came home to find three individuals with no scent or no heartbeat practically living with my family, and the scent of another werewolf around my childhood home where my very human family still lives. What was I supposed to do?"

"Wait, what?" Julie's eyes blow wide. "There's been a werewolf around us?"

"Yeah. And speaking of," you say, "since these three appear to not be the culprits, has there been anyone hanging around? Staring longingly or just giving off the creepiest of vibes? The scent was maybe a few days old, but it's definitely werewolf."

Your sister shivers and crosses her arms over her chest as if to hug herself. "Not that I noticed."

You glance at the boys and all three shake their heads. "Keep an eye out then. That's kind of suspicious." Everyone nods. You inhale and then exhale deeply, looking at each individual. But as no one says anything, you lightly clear your throat. "So is anyone going to tell me what you three are or..?"

"Oh!" Julie leans forward, smiling softly. "Ghosts."

"Ghosts?"

"Ghosts!" Reggie disappears from his spot on the couch and reappears at your side. You faintly startle, but he still sees it and chuckles. "We kind of kicked the bucket about twenty six years ago now."

Luke sighs. "Street dogs, man. We can never look at them the same way ever again."

You snort and then slap a hand over your mouth as you stare at the boys with wide eyes. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to laugh."

"Don't even worry about it," Alex says. "We've had some time to get over it and well now we have this cool gig with Julie so it's fine."

"Well either way I'm sorry you guys died, but I'm stoked you came into my family's life when you did."

The three boys beam, but Julie leans forward. "You know you have to tell dad, right? This is something dad needs to know."

"I know." You frown. "I just- how do I tell dad I'm not exactly human anymore?"

"Together." Julie smiles sadly at you. "We'll tell him together."

After calling an emergency family meeting the previous night, telling your dad and baby brother that werewolves existed was possibly the hardest thing you had to do. Out of the two of them, Carlos was most excited about all the new information you were offering up. But your dad, however, had a brief breakdown when you explained that you were literally going to die unless you had taken the bite from a werewolf. It had taken you almost ten minutes to calm him down, but you only made it a little bit worse when you told him there were rules now that the family knew the supernatural world existed.

Your dad and Carlos had tons of questions, and by the time dinner rolled around Ray just called in several pizzas so they could continue to grill you. Eventually things had settled and everyone went their separate ways to shower and get some sleep.

Then the day after that, you spend the day watching Julie and the boys rehearse because they got a last minute gig this coming Friday night. Even when they're goofing off they play amazingly and you praise them every moment you can. You're so caught up with your family and the boys that everything else is pushed to the back of your mind. And that's where it stays until after Julie and the Phantoms' performance three days later.

It's approaching midnight when you get home, you having rode with your family to and back from the club. It was the most fun you had in awhile, standing directly in front of the stage and screaming the lyrics back at your sister and Luke as they performed. And when you get home you and Julie are still singing along to one of her songs as you walk towards the front door, only to stumble to a halt when the scent of werewolf hits you full force.

"Mija, what's going on?"

"Shh!" You push Julie towards your dad and walk closer to the front door, eyes narrowing at the fact that it's cracked open when it should be locked. You put your nose close to the gap of the opened door and inhale deeply, eyes glowing gold in anger. There's a loud thump from inside and you whirl around to face your dad. He tenses as he eyes the fangs peeking from between your lips. "Get back in the car," you growl. "Do not get out until I come get you."

"Mija-"

"Do you understand?" You growl again, cutting him off. Your dad gulps and quickly nods, grabbing ahold of Carlos and Julie's hands to rush them away.

When you hear the car doors slam shut, the rummaging from inside your house stops. So before whoever is inside can flee, you brace yourself and walk inside. Slamming the door behind you, you open up your senses to tell you who or what is inside with you.

There's a warning growl from up above you and you snarl in response, not taking kindly to being warned off in your own home. Suddenly there are footsteps rushing towards the staircase and you lunge for them, bounding up the steps a few at a time. You meet the werewolf on the stairs, roaring at the sight of electric blue eyes glaring at you. He tries to leap over you, but you catch him by the ankle and tug him down with all your strength.

He's taller than you and more solid than you originally thought, so you mentally curse yourself when you can hear the staircase creak and crack as you fall down the stairs with him. Taking a boot to the gut, you swing out to claw him down his thigh. You draw first blood, but then the werewolf rounds on you with his teeth and claws bared. He lunges, catching you around the waist and slams your back down on the stairs. You grunt in pain, punching and clawing, but only earn a set of claws being dragged down the side of your face in return.

You hear him grunt, followed by a large crack, and your eyes fly open wide when you feel a thin pole from the wooden bannister be shoved into your gut. You roar out, completely shocked at this wolf's aggressiveness, and your saving grace comes in the form of three ghosts.

Alex, Luke, and Reggie pop in, startling the werewolf hovering above you. Their exclamations of pure joy quickly turn to ones of surprise and fear, and you use this brief reprieve to summon all your rage and push back. Once your feet are back beneath you, you shove the wolf back and against a wall. One hand goes around his throat and you use the other to shove your claws into his gut.

"What.. do you want.. with my family?" You ask, shoving your claws in deeper with each pause. The werewolf growls and easily overpowers you, shoving you back and fleeing through the back door.

When you get back to your feet, you attempt to run after him but Reggie rushes in front of you. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where do you think you're going?!"

"Reg, get out of my way," you seethe.

"Nope. No way. In case you haven't noticed, you've been impaled!" His hands flail in the direction of your abdomen. "Shouldn't you like go to the hospital or something?"

"I'll heal." You grab the wooden pole protruding from your body, grasping it tightly and yanking it free.

Reggie gags and you let it drop, only to then be approached by Luke." Y/N, where's Jules? And Carlos and your dad?"

At the mention of your family, the haze of rage starts to fade. You breathe deeply, letting the aches and pain take over as your features shift back to normal. "They're in the car," you say. "Can you go get them? I need to check upstairs to see what that asshole was doing."

"For sure."

As Luke poofs away, you turn back towards the stairs and make your way up them. You follow the scent of werewolf and when you find where it leads your rage comes back ten-fold. Shoving your way in Julie's room, you snarl when you find the strange scent by her dresser, in her closet, and on her bed. You catch whiffs of his scent on random items and you tense when there's a shout of your name from downstairs.

Realizing it's only your dad, you give yourself a moment to make sure you have yourself under control before making your way downstairs. "I'm sorry about the staircase," you say. "I'll call someone in the morning to come estimate the damages and fix it." Everyone is oddly quiet and when you meet their gazes, you see half are on your face and the other are on your stomach. "Relax. It'll heal."

"Will it?" Ray asks. He walks forward, gently cupping your face and angling it so he can get a better look.

"Yeah. It's already stopped bleeding. Now all they gotta do is close up."

"Okay." Your dad gulps. "Did you- did you figure out what was going on?"

"Some rogue werewolf," you tell him. "Normally I wouldn't worry because it's normal for a werewolf to scope out another werewolf in their territory, but this one was only in Julie's room. He didn't go near mine. Something's up."

Luke wraps an arm around Julie's shoulder as she gasps and Ray worriedly glances at his daughter. Carlos steps up on Julie's other side, grabbing her hand and looking every bit determined to keep her safe.

"What can we do?" Luke asks.

"Well for starters," you sigh, "everyone can take a chill pill. Go change, go shower, and go to sleep. I'll clean up and I'll call in reinforcements. I hope you guys are ready to meet my alpha."

"Are you sure, mija?" Your dad asks.

"Yeah. I'm too amped up to do anything other than keep watch and my alpha is necessary since this rogue werewolf easily overpowered me. I'm still new to this whole supernatural business, so it's better if someone more experienced comes in."

Ray and Carlos hesitantly make their way towards the stairs, but as Julie moves she makes a lunge for you. Her arms wrap around you and yours her, and you rub the side of your jaw along her temple. "You're going to be okay," you mumble. "Trust me."

"I do."

Luke and Reggie readily follow your family upstairs, but Alex lingers. You look at him, smiling softly. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asks. "You literally had a pole sticking out of your stomach."

"I'm fine, Al." You lift up your shirt, showing him the barely there hole. "See? It's closing. The healing process is just a little slow for me because I'm a bitten werewolf, not born."

"Oh. Okay. Cool." His hands go into his pockets as he glances around the room nervously. "So do you want some company?"

"Sure." You chuckle softly. "But first, I have a call to make."

Alex follows you into the kitchen where you lean tiredly against the island counter, putting your phone down on the counter top as you look for a specific contact and then put your phone on speaker as to not be rude to your guest. It rings a couple of times before the line clicks open.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Derek's gruff voice makes you smile and Alex's eyes widen.

"Why would you think something is wrong, Der?"

"Because you told us not to contact you until your two weeks with your family were up. You still have another week with them and you're calling me. In the middle of the night. So again I'll ask, what's wrong?"

You sigh and this time it's Alex's turn to grin at you. "So I might have a problem."

Derek groans. "What did you do this time?"

You open your mouth to play off the seriousness of the situation, but after the night you had you're just not feeling. So you snap your mouth shut and sigh once more. "When I first got here, I smelled a werewolf around the house," you say. "I didn't think anything of it because it was faint, but tonight I found the werewolf in my little sister's room. We fought and he fled. I have an uncomfortable feeling about this, Der."

A moment passes in silence before Derek says, "We're on the way."

"Okay, but before you come to the rescue there's something you need to know." He doesn't say anything, but the line is still connected so you know he's waiting. "So you know how we always said something was odd about my sister's holograms?"

"Yeah?"

"Well funnily enough, they're ghosts! But don't worry," you're quick to cut off an inevitable rant, "there's nothing fishy or any ulterior motives. These guys are good, pure, and goofy. Please don't start anything."

There's a heavy exhale and then, "We'll see."

"Bring food!" You're quick to toss in, grinning that you got that in before the call ended. Alex stares at you and you roll your eyes playfully at him. "Relax. It's going to be fine."

Derek and the others could have been there within a few hours, but they didn't want to be rude and show up while your family was sleeping. You texted back and forth with Cora after Derek spilled the ghost secret, and you laughed when she mentioned she was excited to meet them because your little sister's music was quite catchy.

When you hear your family starting to stir awake, you send off a quick text to Derek to let him know that it was okay for them to finally come over. And to bring food because there's not enough to feed three werewolves, three ghosts, and three humans in the house.

Carlos is the only one who looks well rested, Ray and Julie looking like they tossed and turned all night. Luke, Reggie, and Alex poof into the room and you tiredly nod at them.

"Did you get any sleep?" Your dad asks.

"Nah. I've been keeping watch and keeping in contact with the pack," you say. "Derek and Cora are on the way, and Scott said to let him know if we needed him. The rest of the pack would come if needed."

"Mhm. Is there anything we need to know about this Derek and Cora?"

You glance around at your family and ghosts, and sigh when they're waiting for some sort of answer. "Just that they had a really traumatic event happen when they were younger, so if they're not exactly warm in the beginning don't take it personal."

Reggie leans forward in his seat. "Mhm. How traumatic are we talking?"

"Like their entire family was trapped in their home and burned alive traumatic." Everyone's eyes widen and you wince. "Yeah. A bunch of other stuff happened, but it's confusing and not everything is black and white as you may think. I just rather not delve too deep into their personal business moments before you meet them."

After a few lingering moments, Carlos is the first to mention he's hungry. Your dad says he'll get started on breakfast, but you stop them before they can even make it to the kitchen. Then before you can explain why making food isn't necessary, the doorbell rings and everyone freezes.

"I'll, um, I'll just get that."

Hurrying to the door, you open it up and smile in relief at the sight of your two favorite Hales.

"We come bearing McDonald's," Cora says. "We also might have pissed off a long line of cars because we bought out all their sausage biscuits and hash browns."

You laugh. "And I bet you cackled as you drove off."

"She did," Derek deadpans.

You shake your head and then step out of the way, gesturing the two Hales inside. You shut the door behind them and when you turn around to follow them you find that you don't have to go far. Everyone is just standing around, staring at the two newcomers and you shake your head. "What are you all doing out here? Get into the kitchen! I want to eat."

Carlos steps forward, staring up at Derek and Cora with a curious expression. "So werewolves, huh? And you're the one who bit my sister?" Derek tenses, but nods nonetheless. "Well thanks for saving her, but now I'll never beat her in a wrestling match. Can someone biscuit me so I can eat my feelings?"

You snort just as Cora cracks a grin and she walks forward while gesturing for Carlos to follow her into the kitchen. Derek stays put and you step up to his side, nodding up at him before looking out. "So," you start, looking at everyone else, "I'd like you guys to meet alpha Derek Hale. Der, this is my dad, my sister Julie, Carlos followed after Cora, and then we have Alex, Reggie, and Luke."

Everyone gave some form of acknowledgement as they were introduced and Derek sticks his hand out for your dad. "It's nice to finally meet you, sir. I'm just sorry it's under these circumstances."

Ray grasps onto his hand and shakes it. "Ditto."

"Okay," you drawl. "Now that the awkward introductions are over with, can we eat?"

Everyone walks into the kitchen then, you nudging your sister and chuckling at her wariness. Then once in the kitchen, you introduce everyone to Cora as well. The food is passed out and it feels like you're smiling encouragingly at everyone because they're intimidated by Derek's mere presence.

When everyone appears to be done with their food, it's Derek who clears his throat. "So do you wanna know why there's a werewolf interested in Julie now or later?"

The table falls silent and it's Julie who finally addresses him. "Wait. You already know? Without snooping around?"

Derek looks at her and smiles kindly which sets your heart a flutter. You're not stupid, you're well aware just how attractive your alpha is, but you never let yourself cross that line. Cora, however, has no problems teasing you about it, nudging you and smirking. You glare at her and return your attention to Derek. "I do. I'm not surprised Y/N didn't pick up on it, but I am surprised my sister hasn't mentioned anything."

Cora stops her teasing them, brows furrowed as she looks at her brother. "What?"

Derek pushes back from the table and offers his hand for Julie. "I'm sorry this might be uncomfortable for you, but will you join us over here?" she quickly glances at you and your dad, and your dad nods at her. She gets up and joins Derek at his side, and he gently grabs her arm to hold between you and Cora. "Focus on Julie's scent. Who does she remind you of?"

Cora's more in tune with her senses, so it doesn't take her long to pick up on what her brother is suggesting. It takes you a minute and when her scent has fully engulfed you, your eyes fly open. "How did I miss that?"

"M-Miss what?" Your sister stammers, pulling her arm back.

Cora glances between Julie and her brother, and you shake your head. "It's impossible. Stiles is a.." you trail off and Derek quirks an eyebrow at you, grinning.

"Excuse me," Luke pipes up, "but who and what the hell is a Stiles?"

Derek and Cora snort, and your gaze darts between Luke, Reggie, Alex, and your sister.

"Mija, what's going on?" Ray asks.

You gulp as realization slowly settles in. Looking at Julie, you ask, "They used to be invisible, right?"

"Yeah."

"But then they were cursed by another ghost, almost jolted out of existence, and you pulled them to you at the Orpheum. You wanted them and they appeared, and then by some weird happenstance you didn't want them to go and the curse was lifted. You were finally able to touch and everyone could see them."

Julie frowns at you. "You knew this already. What does that have to do with-"

"You're a Spark."

"What?"

Ray glances between both his daughters. "What's a Spark and how bad is this?"

You're left blinking at your sister in awe, so Derek takes over once more. "A Spark is someone with magical abilities, sir. When trained properly, they're a force to be reckoned with. They're highly sought after because they're not as neutral as a pack Emissary and can offer a hell of a lot more protection than an Emissary."

"Mhm. And what's an Emissary?"

"It's someone who offers advice and keeps peace during pack meetings," you say. "They're limited in their knowledge and magical abilities, but a Spark.. a Spark is so much more."

"So that's why this werewolf was sniffing around the house?" Ray asks. "Because he could smell the magic coming off Julie?"

"Yes." Derek tells him honestly. You can hear Julie's heartbeat pick up speed and you're quick to stand and wrap her in a hug. "If he's an Omega, which I believe he is since no one else came back when he faced off against Y/N, I think he wants to grow his own pack."

"And having a Spark within his pack would look good when recruiting others," Cora says.

Ray sighs. "What do we do?"

"Honestly? Julie needs to harness her power and learn how to use it."

"What? No!"

"Dad." You look towards him, frowning. "Derek's right. Julie is full of untapped potential and you do not want the wrong person training her. We can help."

Your dad sighs some more, rubbing his hand down his face. Finally he looks at Julie. "What do you want to do, mija? This is your life we're talking about here."

Everyone seems to hold their breath as Julie glances at every person she's come to love. But before she can say anything, Cora speaks up. "Before any decisions are made, I think we need to make sure Julie is a Spark." She then looks at your little sister. "Would you be willing to complete a test? There's no pain, no questions, just simple concentration."

You sister shrugs. "I guess so."

Julie is still apprehensive as Cora exits the room, so you rub her arm up and down. "It's going to be okay." You smile reassuringly at her. "If you truly are what we think you are, I think you might enjoy this. I know Carlos will."

Your baby brother perks up and you grin at him. You're quick to clear away the trash and are done just as Cora re-enters the room. She drops a duffel bag atop the table and Derek opens it up, pulling on a pair of gloves before he removes a vial full of black powder.

"What's that?" Luke asks.

"Mountain ash." Derek explains. "Create a closed barrier with this and no supernatural creature can cross it."

"And the rest?" Reggie wonders, peeking into the bag. Several vials clink together and he's quick to back off.

"Wolfsbane," you tell him. "It's lethal to us, but if we're shot or nicked with a weapon that holds a certain strain of this stuff, we figure out which strain it is and burn the ash that we have on hand to press into our wounds. For some reason it counteracts the effects."

"But in order to see if Julie truly is a Spark," Derek says, pulling everyone's attention back to the main topic, "we need her to create a barrier of mountain ash around Cora."

Julie quickly glances at you and you give her a nod. She walks towards Derek and Cora, and Derek opens up the vial to pour a small mound of black ash in the center of her palm. Julie glances up at him in surprise and then at the space around Cora's feet. "That's all you're giving me?"

"That's all you get."

Julie glances at you again and the panic is clear in her eyes. "Relax," you say. She gulps. "Relax," you say again, softer. "Inhale and exhale, Jules." She does as you say and after a couple of deep breaths, you say, "Now close your eyes. Form a loose fist and believe that you have all the ash you need there in the center of your hand as it tips out while walking a circle around Cora."

Julie's eyes fly open as she scoffs. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." You grin. "Magic is all about belief. Now close your eyes and concentrate. You have to want to close this circle. Do it."

Again everyone seems to hold their breath as Julie closes her eyes and shakes herself out. She takes a few deep breaths, letting them out slowly. You can practically see the moment her mind clears, her expression going slack right before she tips her fist and the ash starts to fall. She walks in an unsteady circle, her brow furrowing halfway around. She unknowingly walks the entire circle, her eyes flying open as she groans. "This is dumb."

"Is it?" Cora wonders. She raises her hand and goes to touch Julie, but her hand hits an invisible wall that shimmers a faint blue before fading.

Julie glances down, her eyes widening before she looks at you. "It worked?"

"It worked," you assure her. Everyone seems to scramble up from their seats then, gathering around Julie and Cora. You snort as Carlos and Reggie easily put their hands inside the circle, but Cora has no such luck of reaching out of it. You raise your eyebrow at that. "Well at least we know mountain ash doesn't work on ghosts."

"Um, how do we get her out now?" Julie nervously wonders.

"You or any other human can just drag the toe of your shoe through it. It'll break the circle."

"Cool!" Carlos readily drags his socked toe through the ash and Cora laughs as she steps out of the circle.

"So what happens now?" Alex asks, glancing between his newfound family a bit nervously.

"Now we find her a mentor," Derek says. "And a pack because without one-" he says, cutting off your dad, "it'll just be a matter of time before another werewolf comes looking. Or something worse."

"We, uh, we know a Spark," you say, glancing at Derek who gives you a nod to continue. "Stiles. He's obnoxiously smart and powerful, and unfortunately he refuses to leave alpha McCall's side long term. But since we're basically in the same pack, he'll visit and help mentor Julie if we ask."

"What about a pack?" She frowns. "I don't want to join a bunch of strangers."

"Then join the Hale pack," Derek says after a beat. You and Cora look at him in surprise, but he only has eyes for your baby sister and dad. "We can locate further south so Julie doesn't have to leave anyone behind."

"Der, are you serious?" You shakily ask.

He glances at you and smirks. "Of course. We'll start house hunting if your sister agrees."

You glance at Julie and her eyes are wide. A moment passes and then she looks at you, a relieved smile taking over. "Yeah. Uh, yeah. I'll join if it's okay with my dad?"

Everyone looks at Ray. "Why do I get the feeling my grocery bill just got a whole lot higher?"

You, Cora, and Derek laugh. "Don't worry, dad. As alpha, it's Derek's job to provide for the pack."

Over the next couple of days, Derek and Ray spend a lot of time in Ray's office- the alpha filling in your dad about pack politics since Julie was still so young. Stiles has already been called, but he had a few things to take care of before he could make the trip down south. So until then, you, Derek, and Cora were going to be staying with your family. Derek took to searching for a new pack house while you and Cora happily told the younger generation about your favorite pack stories.

Julie, Ray, and Carlos have a chaperone everywhere they go, but surprisingly no one complains. You and Cora had to take a brief leave from school, citing family emergencies, and you spend the newfound time protecting your family.

Unfortunately, before Stiles can show up and lay protection wards around the house, the omega werewolf strikes again. Fortunately, however, your dad is with Carlos at one of his baseball games so they're not there to witness the brief brawl.

You and Cora are sitting on the back balcony, listening to Julie and the boys rehearse. Derek had gone for a quick jog around a few blocks, most likely scenting the area for anything out of the norm, and you were in charge of holding down the fort. But the comfort of your house and the fact that nothing had recently happened made you let your guard down, and the opposing werewolf was smart enough to stay down wind.

But then there's glass shattering, the music suddenly cuts out, and Julie's shout pierces through her still live microphone. Without second guessing yourselves, you and Cora get up and jump over the balcony railing. You both land in a crouch, faces immediately transformed, growling. You're quick to straighten up, running towards the studio and throwing open the door.

Julie is huddled into Alex's side with Reggie and Luke brandishing their guitars as weapons in front of them. The werewolf in question is nearly six feet tall with electric blue eyes and a lean build. He's more clean-cut than you remember, but it's the same wolf you saw inside your house. It's a quiet stare-off, but the moment your eyes track to the completely shattered bay windows at the back of the studio a snarl rips free.

"Walk towards us," Cora says. "Do not turn your back on him."

The moment Julie takes a step back, the other werewolf growls and shifts in agitation.

"Try it and you're dead," you seethe.

There's a moment of hesitation and then he's lunging. Cora lunges for the male werewolf while you lunge for your sister, you shoving her and Alex aside. Luke and Reggie are quick to poof out of the way, and then reappear at the couch where Alex and Julie are huddled together. The snarling of Cora and the other werewolf keeps you on edge, and you join your packmate in clawing and shoving, and making sure you do not damage your mom's beloved studio too much.

You and Cora receive a few blows and gashes of your own, but Julie's frantic heartbeat has the two of you fighting for her. You try to fight with all your might, but you know you're in trouble when you and Cora both show obvious signs of tiring whereas the male werewolf still looks as anxious as ever to get his hands on your sister.

A mistake on your part has the male werewolf taking the upper hand, he kicking Cora away and grabbing you by your throat. The sudden action startles you and your lack of air makes you panic. So instead of using your full strength to break his hold, you claw at the hand squeezing your throat.

"Stop. Stop!" Julie pleads.

But her cries fall on deaf ears and it takes the roar of an alpha to startle the male werewolf into dropping you.

As you gasp for air and scramble towards your sister, you look towards the studio doors to see Derek standing there with glowing red eyes. Derek, half transformed, is completely more terrifying than either you or Cora, and even though you're part of Derek's pack you can't help the uptick of your heartbeat at the power radiating off him.

"The girl is under protection of the McCall-Hale pack," Derek growls. "In fact, this entire territory is now ours. You have until sunrise to be gone or I'll rip your throat out with my teeth if any of us ever see you again."

The werewolf has the audacity to growl at Derek, but you and Cora are quick to flank your alpha. The two of you growl threateningly behind his back and as the opposing werewolf glances between the three of you, he grunts and slowly backs away towards the window he'd thrown himself through.

The second he's gone, Derek leans towards Cora. "Follow him. Make sure he leaves." A growl rumbles from her chest to show she understands and a moment later she's disappearing out the same damaged window. Derek takes a deep breath and let's it out before looking over at your sister. "You okay?"

Reggie blinks and then huffs softly. "Well I think I ghost peed a little, but I'm fine."

"Same, dude," Luke nods. "That was intense."

Your werewolf features fade as you fail to contain your laugh, Alex then glancing over at his friends. "You guys are so lucky you can play instruments and sing."

Julie giggles and you step forward to lean against Derek's arm. "I'm pretty sure Der was talking to my sister."

"Oh."

"I'm fine," Julie says. "But he's not- he won't come back, will he?"

"Not unless he wants an alpha to rip him to shreds," you tell her.

"I'm gonna follow after Cora and make sure the rogue is gone. You good here?"

You glance up at Derek and nod. "Yeah. We're good." Derek smirks at you and you roll your eyes, nudging him to go. After a moment he jogs out of the studio, no doubt following Cora's scent. Someone clears their throat and you glance back at your far too amused sister. "What?"

"So.." she drawls, "care to explain what that just was?"

"What what was?" You ask.

Luke starts to smile. "You totally have a thing for the scary wolf." Alex and Reggie eagerly nod in agreement.

"What? I do not."

"You totally do," Julie says.

"Oh whatever." You roll your eyes, willing yourself not to blush or smile. You'd be damned if you let them in on that particular secret crush, even though you were pretty sure it was mutual. "We have more important things to discuss like fixing the window and informing dad of what went on without freaking him out."

Julie's smile slowly fades. "Are things always going to be intense like what we just saw?"

"I hate to break it to you, baby girl, but yes. Sometimes worse."

"Oh great."

"But you're going to be a total badass," you assure her as you walk towards her. You kneel in front of her, taking her hands in your own. "Stiles is the best and he will make sure you know everything to protect yourself and those close to you. And besides, you'll have three badass werewolves just a few blocks over. You won't be alone."

"Are you sure? I'm still kind of young. I don't want to put your pack in any danger."

You shake your head. "You won't. I don't mean to brag, but the Hale name carries some weight. Scott kind of made a name for himself as well, so when everyone finds out you're under our protection it'll be okay. Trust me, sis. It won't always be this scary."

"Well as long as you're positive."

"I am. Now come on." You let go of her hands and pat the tops of her thighs as you stand. "Let's go find something to eat and call Stiles. We'll see if he can speed up his trip out here."

#julie and the phantoms imagine #teen wolf imagine #jatp x reader #julie and the phantoms #teen wolf #julie molina #derek hale #cora hale #ray molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters

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9layerdevilfoodcake · 4 years ago

Text

Some Of A Kind

Chapter 1: Virgin in the Chapel

(Michael Langdon x reader)

Summary: When you accompany your friend to a black mass at the Church of Satan. You pick the wrong time and place to let him in on the fact that you’re a virgin, garnering the attention of the ‘chosen one’ himself.

Warnings: murder, mentions of drug use, poorly represented Satanism

Word count: 3,666 (that’s right)

It was a typical Wednesday night when you got a text from your friend Tyler.

‘So what do you say? Is tonight the night?’

He had been bugging you for weeks to come see a sacrifice at the satanic church. And since the first time he asked, the conversation always went the same way.

“I’m telling you, just one slice and then you can have whatever you want”

“You mean I can have powers beyond compare?”

“Yes” he answered back, in a hopeful tone. Clearly he hadn’t picked up on the sarcasm in your voice.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the excitement in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you do whatever you want over there with your edgelords but I’m perfectly happy in my boring powerless existence”

“First of all we aren’t edgelords, we're satanists. We just see the world for what it is. A dreadful place full of selfish people.”

“Well I can’t say I argue with that”

“Exactly, so give in to being selfish, and start doing what you want. You work so hard, and for what a one bedroom apartment you can barely afford and bags under your eyes that are only getting bigger by the day?”

“Hey” you interrupt, slightly offended. Which only earns a laugh on his end.

“I’m just saying, you put in so much effort for no pay off, when you could do this one thing and have everything you deserve”

“What a cable package and a ‘skip the line’ pass at Disneyland?”

“I also get unlimited snacks!”

“Oh sorry how could I forget, well if one soul is all it takes to get a free waffle cone then what are we still doing here?!” You ask back, your tone full of mockery.

“Have you ever wondered why I can snort as much coke as I want and have never OD’d? Or why every girl I bring home is a certified 10?”

Actually you had, the two of you had met the year prior in a religious studies class when you were partnered to write a paper on whether morality was dependent on a god. He could barely get through a sentence without tripping over his words or looking away in embarrassment. It was sweet really, and by the end of the class you two had basically become best friends.

But about 2 months ago things started to change. There was almost always a girl leaving his house when you would come over.

You swore at least two of them you recognized from Victoria Secret runways.

One night you even saw a man leaving whose resemblance to Ryan Reynolds was suspiciously uncanny.

He got a new car without any explanation as to where he got the money, and he had so much coke in his living room you assumed he started dealing, before he told you it was just his stash for the weekend.

At first he was vague about everything, but eventually he told you the truth, or at least what you assumed was a version of it.

For his final project he wrote a research paper on the church of Satan.

You went with him to a couple of services when he was writing it, him being too nervous to go alone.

You both thought they seemed a little kooky, but relatively harmless.

Yet what you didn’t know was that he kept going back after the class ended and had gotten himself sworn in, and eventually given the honor of participating in a black mass.

Where he had sacrificed a school teacher in order to get these new “gifts”.

Now you weren’t naive enough to think he actually killed someone!

You were sure his new lifestyle was a part of some religious Ponzi scheme, and one day the debt collector would come calling.

You’ve watched enough documentaries to know better than to get involved with this.

But he is still your friend so you take it upon yourself to be supportive and let him have his moment, while simultaneously letting him know you’ll be here for him if the day comes that he gets excommunicated.

“I love you and I am so happy for all you’ve gotten, especially when you share it with me, but I’m good, really. I’ll let you know if I ever change my mind”

That dropped the subject for a while.

That is until a few days ago when you lost your job.

Well actually when your job was stolen from underneath you by your boss's son.

All it took was one night of bitching to your best friend for the talks of satanism to start up again.

So here you were bored on a Wednesday night actually considering his offer to watch a black mass.

‘Well…’

He texted back after a few minutes of no response on your part

‘Fine’

It’s not like he’s ever going to let up, you might as well go see what all the hubbub was about.

After he picked you up, you made your way to the church.

More precisely the back alley with a hidden door. Not at all unsettling.

And the rain pelting down on the robe he gave you just adds a nice ominese touch to what you're sure is going to be a long night.

Now inside you sit in a pew in the back. While the choir above you sings as the others file in.

They actually sound pretty good if you’re being honest. Maybe on your way out you’ll pick up the album you saw for sale in the lobby (for $6.66 no less).

You haven’t been sitting more than 10 minutes before the mass begins.

And in that time Tyler roughly explained what you were about to see.

You weren’t paying too much attention though. More enamored with the atmosphere.

It was a sea of red cloaks and black pentagrams. And the thunder outside appeared to clap along in sync with the crescendo or the choir.

This place seems vastly different from the shabby collection of misfits you encountered when you visited the first time. Who spent most of the service complaining and handed you a stale donut on your way out the door.

“...Y/n are your listening?!”

“Hmm Yea”

“Really?”

“Yea the guy’s gonna sacrifice some ‘innocent soul’ say a few hail satans and voilà he gets his hair back and starts getting laid again” you answer back, waving him off. You’re more interested in watching two Satanists in the front of the room give each other the “sign of the cross” gesture in reverse order.

“This is serious, the things you see might shock you but you can not react! If they think you’re some sort of threat to our secrets or even just afraid of them, it won’t end well. I’m kind of taking a risk by bringing you here”

That brings your attention back to your friend.

“So you hound me for weeks to come with you, but I’m not even allowed to be here?” You ask back, starting to wonder why you actually said yes to this.

“Well yea, I just really want you to see what I’ve seen, I want what’s best for you”

That was actually really sweet of him.

Now you felt a little bad for making fun of this so much.

That is until you see a man in the next row pull out a flask with “unholy water” written on it and rub it on his chest like Vick’s.

But before you get the chance to ask Tyler where he keeps his flask(which you're certain he has). The choir stops singing and the Priestess has the room's attention.

Everything goes as Tyler explains at first.

The “sacrifices” are brought in in their underwear. (They couldn’t even keep their clothes on, what does the devil give them a level up if the victims are humiliated before they die?) and tonight's chosen one, Phil, is about to take his position, before you hear a voice behind you.

“Wait!”

You turn your head to see an older woman rushing in, but it’s not her that steals your focus it’s who walks in behind her.

He is quite possibly the most attractive person you have ever seen. With cheekbones that could slice butter and soft blonde hair falling around icy blue eyes.

She says his name is Michael and this honor belongs to him.

You look over to Tyler to see what’s going on. He didn’t explain what part of the performance this was, was this some sort of second act surprise?

You were expecting this night to follow like a church service, watching Phil take his vows and minimal audience participation. Now you wonder if this is all rehearsed, or if the Satanist’s are partial to improv?

But Tyler pays you no mind, he can’t take his eyes off the blonde either.

It’s not until the Priestess mentions the “mark of the beast” and that he is the chosen one, that you get why Tyler is looking at him like he’s some sort of god.

Because to him he is, this guy is supposed to be the Antichrist.

Tyler says nothing only glances in your direction when he sees you’re the only one still standing, before he pulls you down to your knee like everyone else.

The rest of the performance is really top notch.

The flickering of the lights was a nice touch, but you can’t help but feel a little uneasy wondering how they keep getting the thunder to time up with everything they do.

Plus the bodies of the sacrifices fell to the ground almost too well.

How did they manage to get their bodies to look that lifeless, and why did those cuts look so deep?

But you try not to focus too much on it as you walk to the ceremonial Wednesday night potluck.

After the Antichrist has dismissed his followers from fawning all over him, you sit with Tyler at the end of the table and dig into your lasagna.

“So does the antichrist part happen at every sacrifice or is this one special? Is it some Satanic holiday I wasn’t aware of?” You ask, breaking Tyler out of whatever trance he appears to be stuck in.

“What?”

“I gotta say the dramatics were very entertaining, but if you really wanted to get me here all you had to do was tell me the guy who plays the Antichrist is really hot” you snicker under your breath.

“Play? Y/n your don’t understand he IS the Antichrist” he explains in a hushed voice before continuing

“That doesn’t happen every time, he really has come. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Don’t you see?! I think it was fate you came here on this night!”

“Ha, why do you need a virgin to sacrifice or something?” You laugh and take another bite before you look over and see Tyler staring at you with wide eyes.

“What?”

“You’re not serious are you?”

“Well yea, what’s the big deal, I didn’t realize you were so caught up on a social construct”

“I’m not, but you can’t say things like that around here” he looks around the room nervously and you follow his path of vision until your eyes land on Michael, who’s own gaze is locked on you.

There’s no way he heard you, you were across the room and you were whispering.

Still he continues to stare with eyes that speak only of intensity. No smile, no nod, no hint emotion whatsoever.

It’s only after you raise your brows and mouth a “What?” That he looks back down at his plate with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh Satan, I think he heard you. You should go” Tyler’s tone becoming more erratic by the second.

“What?” You’re sure he's joking, but when he looks at you there is nothing but worry in his eyes.

Now you’re starting to get nervous, this is too far.

He actually thinks these people are going to do something?

He’s practically shaking with fear, and because of the man in the turtleneck? Who barely knows how to hold a spoon?

Okay you’ll play along for tonight, but tomorrow you are having a serious talk, he might need professional help.

“Alright let's go then” you huff out as you start to grab your belongings.

“I can’t just leave, especially since our savior is here, but I’ll make sure everything is good and you’re not followed or anything”

“Okay, is there some sort of satanic shuttle bus that can take me home? Or should I call an Uber? Does this place have an address or should I just send them an inverted cross?”

Still unamused by your inability to grasp the gravity of the situation, he just shakes his head and hands you his keys.

“Here just take my car, I’ll get a ride later, in fact stay at my house incase you’re followed”

He’s basically pushing you out of your seat and nodding to the door.

“Okay...bye I guess”

And with that you take off down the hall.

You know you’re supposed to go straight to the car. You’ve never seen Tyler look so serious in his life.

But when you walk past the chapel you can’t help but stop. You can still see the bodies up at the altar.

Why are they still there? Was there a trap door you missed and these were just doubles?

Or were these people so committed to the role and as crazy as your friend that they had to stay in the character of “dead sacrifice” all night?

Curiosity got the better of you, the car could wait, you had to see for yourself.

Closer inspection did nothing to stifle your suspicions.

It looked so real.

They weren’t breathing, so there was no way they were still the two actors, but you had never seen fake bodies look so real.

You're reminded of an anatomy class you took last semester.

Those cadavers looked suspiciously close to these.

Just colder and with less life left in their faces.

And there was so much blood, the iron was thick in the air.

But that couldn’t be true. Your friend wouldn’t kill someone would he?

He didn’t actually think they would kill you?

If you got a closer look, if you just swiped some of the “blood” with your pointer finger it would surely taste like corn syrup and not like…

“Are you afraid?”

You whip your head around, blood still staining your finger and beginning to drip onto the linoleum. To see Michael walking in the same way he had an hour earlier. Only this time without the cloak, but with some newly added confidence.

“They’re really dead aren’t they?” You know it’s true, but you still wait for his confirmation.

“Yes, that tends to happen when you slice someone’s throat” He acts as if this shouldn’t be a shock to you. It didn’t shock any of the other members of the congregation. Yet you know without him saying it, that he’s well aware you’re not like the others. That you don’t belong here.

“So you really sacrifice people, just to get stuff” you blurt out. Still trying to wrap your head around the fact that everything you witnessed tonight was real. Perhaps you shouldn’t have taken that last crescent roll you’d seen another satanist eyeing at dinner, you definitely have a curse coming your way. That is if you live through the night.

“Well not me” Michael says, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

“Oh of course, you’re the one they do it for”

“Well my father more specifically”

“Does that upset you?” You know you should be more careful about how you proceed with this conversation, but the words leave your mouth before your mind can stop them.

The question seems to catch him by surprise as he ruffles his brow, you’re not sure if it’s in anger or just shock at your brazenness. But he doesn’t answer. Just goes on to question you.

“Have you ever witnessed a murder before?”

“No”

“How did you feel watching it before your eyes?”

“Well I didn’t feel much, considering I thought it was all fake” That earns you a smile from him.

“And how do you feel now?”

“Curious”

“Really? Not scared?”

“No. Why should I be?” You’re really digging your own grave here. But your mouth seems to have a mind of its own.

“It seems your friend would say otherwise”

“Ah so you did hear.” You say, seeing his smile grow wider. “These aren't the days of the Old Testament, virginity doesn’t equally purity. Just ask sacrifice number one over there, with a body like that I doubt she was a virgin” you laugh, partially at your joke and partially out of sheer uncomfortableness. Michael doesn’t even spare the bodies a glance, eyes latched onto you, you go on to add

“I’m no saint. Despite my sexual history, or lack thereof”

“No, I’m sure you’re not” he emphasizes by swiping some of the liquid from your finger with his own, before taking it into his mouth. Making a show of it by closing his eyes as he releases it from his lips, slow as molasses. Smiling when he opens his eyes and sees you’re practically drooling.

Before his little show can go any further, you continue with your own questions.

“Have you killed people before?”

“Yes”

“How many?”

“You don’t have the time”

He’s looking at you waiting for your response. Waiting for the shock to subside and the shrieks of terror to take over.

Instead you just pause thinking everything over.

You should be scared, you know you should.

In one night you have watched two people die, found out your friend is a murderer, and that the Antichrist is not only NOT a myth, but is standing in front of you, conversing with you like he’s nothing more than your new neighbor.

Yet you search and search in your mind for any hint of fear and come up empty. All you feel is curiosity. You must be losing it too, you feel bad for judging Tyler so harshly. Maybe it’s his youthful face and the little outburst in the dining hall earlier, but Michael seems like more than simply the ‘incarnation of evil’. He seems so...human.

And more than anything he just seems confused and dare you say, lost.

“Do you like killing people? Or do you do it because it’s expected?”

“It depends”

“Would you like to kill me?”

Now it’s his turn to take pause, looking like he’s trying to decide if he’s “in the mood” to take your life.

“Not right now”

You can’t help but laugh at that (yea you’re definitely in shock). Soon enough he joins in too, and the mood feels lighter than it has all night. You might even say you feel comfortable.

That is until the laughter subsides and you meet his eyes. He’s now staring at you with the same intensity you’d met earlier at dinner.

It’s like he’s looking right through you, into your soul. You feel on display and more than anything afraid of what he might find.

“Stop that”

“Stop what?” He says with a playful tone and a tilt of his head.

“You’re..well..I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t like it. You’re trying to get a read on me or something.”

He just smiles at that, because of course he does.

You know there is no avoiding playing into his hand. He wants to get a rise out of you, in one way or another.

“And what do yo-”

“Y/N!”

At the mention of your name you both turn to see Tyler standing in the doorway.

Antichrist or not, the look Michael gives him is enough to send a wave of fear up your spine.

He appears as though he’s about to snap his neck through just a look(and you're afraid to find out if he could).

Noticing his anger, Tyler stops and bows before Michael, apologizing incessantly for interrupting him.

You don’t miss the twitch of Michael’s lips. He’s clearly loving the effects he has on his followers.

You just roll your eyes at your friend.

“Calm down Tyler, get up”

He just let’s your words pass over him as if you hadn’t even spoken. If he hadn’t been the one to call your name a moment ago, you wouldn’t be sure he even knew you were in the room.

Every sense he had was aimed at Michael, and it was only when his precious dark lord gave him a nod that he got up and looked your way again.

“What are you doing? I thought you were going home?” He says through clenched teeth.

If he weren’t so worried about keeping you alive he would be pissed at you for not listening.

“I was. I am” you reassure him turning to Michael.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Michael, I’ll see myself out”

You are scurrying out of the room, grabbing a frozen Tyler and tugging him along with you, when Michael calls after you.

“No y/n, the pleasure was all mine.”

You’re at the end of the hall, and in the middle of Tyler’s scolding session, when you realize there is still blood on your finger.

It feels like it’s vibrating where Michael touched you, begging you to take notice.

Just wipe it on your jeans, you tell yourself.

Wait until you get to the car and find a napkin.

Do anything rational other than what you're thinking.

As you pass through the exit door, you cave and take a taste of the crimson on your finger.

Although you can’t see him, you know Michael is smiling. You can feel his smugness in the air around you and you're sure he knows what you just did.

This started out just as me wanting to make some jokes about Michael and the Satanists and has somehow turned into a multi-chapter fic. I still don’t really know where it’s going I’m just letting it take on a mind of it’s own. If it looks familiar it’s cuz it’s been on ao3 for a little bit now, so sorry it’s not a “new” new story! If you liked it that makes me very happy, and if not I hope it was at least entertaining! Either way thank you for reading!

(I wasn’t sure who wanted to be tagged just in my Xavier fic and who did in general so I didn’t add a tag list to this one)

#Michael langdon x reader #Michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #far too much sarcasm

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years ago

Text

Hopelessness of Wanting [Part 4]

<- Part 3

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only! Suicidal thoughts. Nonconsensual blowjob, dubcon smut with reader (gender-neutral). None of the smut in this chapter is healthy! Two messed up people falling in love, only one is a lot more abusive than the other (Chilton. It’s Chilton). Reader is not in the healthiest of mind states to interpret their relationship. Everyone more or less gets what they deserve by the end.

6,400 words

Red morning light flooded into the bedroom through expansive panoramic windows that gave a spectacular view over the bay. Dr. Chilton—no, Frederick—was still beside you, rolled onto his back, snoring lightly. The bed was warm and smelled like him. A spicy, timeless fragrance. Expensive and a little off-putting at first whiff, until it melted into something complex and beautiful.

You felt hollow. Numb. Like you could float away or sink to the bottom of the ocean and never claw your way back out again. But calmer, at least. The impulse to hurt yourself was gone.

The negativity that had been devouring you from within had been washed away by a flood of tears and joy—crying until your eyes burned and your throat was hoarse, fucking your boss, going home with him, and then falling asleep crying again while he held you.

This morning, you had nothing left except static.

And there was Frederick Chilton, asleep beside you like a dreaming titan—the silhouette of his body beautiful and ominous. You resisted the urge to cuddle up next to him. He reacted badly to being touched without warning, and besides, you dreaded waking him up. What if he wasn’t happy? What if everything from last night was a mistake?

It all seemed surreal. That he had wanted you all along was too good to be true. Now that he had you, you were certain to be a disappointment. Your chest heaved unexpectedly, and you bit back a fresh sob. Suddenly your face was wet again.

Your nerves were so raw.

The peaceful static buzzing through your mind was fragile. Any sudden movement or loud thought might set you spiraling back down that hole again. You’re just going to screw this up, just like you screw everything up. Maybe it would have been better if you’d just gone through with it—saved everyone the inevitable heartache.

But if you had gone through with it, you never would have found out that Frederick returned your feelings. That knowledge—that something wonderful happened after your planned date of expiration—was reason enough not to try again. Sometimes good things happened. Things could change. Things could get better, and you could be happy again. You had to believe that.

So you moved slowly, and thought quietly. You listened to Frederick’s breathing in and out, and remained wrapped in the warm cocoon of blankets.

***

On the spectrum of touch aversion, Frederick Chilton was hardly a dramatic case. There was a Mr. Walton in his custody at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane who was imprisoned for murdering his four-year-old daughter because she would not stop hugging his calves as he walked by. Restraining the man for treatment required four muscular orderlies prepared for him to kick and bite at the slightest grazing of his skin.

That was touch aversion. Dr. Chilton considered himself perfectly normal by comparison.

He was able to shake hands with an acquaintance, hug a close friend or relative when social normalcy dictated he offer one, and even engage in sexual intercourse when his libido overrode his discomfort. As a man with a very high libido and next to no dating life, sex won out at every opportunity.

Yesterday, the hasty, frantic encounter with you in the medicine storage closet had been almost fully clothed. His hands explored your body as he rutted into you, but yours were braced against the tile wall, passive.

It was impersonal, and he was in control.

This morning, he awoke wrapped in the warmth of your body heat after you spent the night in his bed. In his home. He fell asleep watching you and awoke to you watching him thrashing out of a nightmare, your eyes full of so much emasculating pity that he lunged forward at once to kiss the look off your face.

Fuck—he did not know what he was thinking. A muffled noise of surprise escaped your crushed lips and then melted into a moan as you reciprocated. You opened compliantly to allow his tongue entrance. He meant to bully away your perception of his weakness with the aggressive kiss—he had not expected you to coil your fingers deep into his hair and pull him closer. Your leg pushed between his, and as he pulled back, panting, you quickly closed the gap and kissed him again.

Your bright floral scent was everywhere, surrounding him, invading the familiarity of his sheets. Your hands were pulling at him, softly caressing up and down his back.

It was intimate.

And he was terrified.

You saw him freezing up, and your hands stopped grabbing at him. Some of his tension evaporated as soon as you gave him space. A worried smile thinned your lips.

“Sorry. I forgot,” you murmured. “Is this better?”

You remembered. This was usually where his bedmate would call him too cold, or roll their eyes in annoyance. There was the usual guilt trip: if he was attracted to them, he would want to be crowded with physical affection. But you asked if he wanted to stop—asked him what he needed. No one had ever done that for him before.

“I am fine,” he swore to your skeptical frown, and it almost wasn’t a lie.

Knowing that you would stop put him at ease. The sunny persona you used at work may have been a forgery, but your gentle kindness was not. With you, he almost was fine.

He kissed you again, this time as tenderly as he had while you were sleeping. Felt you breathe in as his lips met yours, and then melt into him as you breathed out. He caressed your hair, and when your eyes opened again, taking him in, his heart felt full.

***

As a general rule of thumb, it is not a good idea to fuck your boss. This rule goes double when you are in the middle of a mental health crisis, and increases geometrically when said crisis was precipitated by your boss’s callous, condescending, cruel behavior in the first place. Or—that is to say—when your boss is Dr. Frederick Chilton.

But when you wake up in your boss’s bed having already fucked him, he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and the twitching of his erection against your thigh makes you feel alive again, you might as well accept you’re in too deep and go for it.

Dr. Chilton’s cock was already slipping through the open fly of his pajamas, and your hand helped it the rest of the way out. You licked your lips, imagining the weight of him on your tongue, his salty taste filling your mouth. Bracing a hand on one of his thighs, you lowered yourself to the pink dome.

“N-no,” Frederick stammered. “You do not have to do that.”

“I want to,” you hummed, a seductive rumble to your voice.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward once in appreciation for your willingness, but his eyes kept a haunted dullness that told you there was more behind his refusal than politeness. There was a story there, and you knew better than to push it.

You couldn’t have known it was his conscience intruding.

Taking control, he pushed you back down onto the mattress. The sound of lube squeezing from a bottle shortly preceded a cold slickness spread between your legs. You reached for him instinctively, trying to make it romantic, but he pinned your hands down by your side. The crown of his cock pushed against your tight entrance, which burned at the penetration it was unprepared for. It was cold, rushed—but as he canted his hips forward, his fingers laced through yours.

“Oh god,” he moaned as if he were kneeling in prayer, whispering his sins in confession—guttural, yet barely a breath.

You grit your teeth to cage the pained cry that leaped in your throat, stifling it into what passed for a whimper of pleasure. The stretch of his unceremonious insertion was the punishment you deserved for being so dramatic and causing so much trouble yesterday. For making him bring you home, worry about you, feel like he had to take care of you. For being weak. For all the incompetent mistakes. You didn’t complain that your body screamed in protest at being forced open too fast by such a large implement. It wasn’t that bad, and the sensation was mixed with pleasure. Satisfaction of seeing the handsome doctor’s face contorting with lust warmed your stomach, and soon your body relaxed around his cock, warmth pooling and coiling in your lower back.

Chilton’s first thrusts were controlled, experimental, rocking forward by slow inches and then retreating until the crest of his cockhead was barely hanging on to the tight rim of your opening. Then he rocked forward again while his analytical green eyes studied your reaction.

After a few of these slow strokes, the pain was gone. Perhaps he had been cognizant of it, waiting until you were letting out soft moans, your pelvis tilting to meet his, before continuing. Then his leg muscles tightened, and his next thrust slammed his hips into yours, filling you completely. You cried out in unison—his a satisfied growl, and yours a wail like you’d been punched in the gut but got off on it.

He lost his thin facade of control after that, rutting into you with force, pressing sloppy wet kisses over your mouth, down your neck. Your fingers clenched his tightly, your knuckles turning white, and he gripped back just as hard. He only slowed to arch his back so he could tease your nipples into hardened peaks with his tongue, releasing new yelps and whimpers from your throat. A possessive bite drew a more resounding cry of pleasure and a dark bruise.

The only thing restrained about his performance was his voice. After his first shout of pleasure, he grew silent except for a few strained noises that told you how hard he was working to strangle back the others. You wondered what wild howls Dr. Chilton hid within him.

“I want to hear you,” you panted.

His face was a mask of effort, already covered in a sheen of sweat that betrayed his poor physical shape. He stared down at you like an enemy soldier in a trench—a spy picking at his weaknesses—and gave no reply.

A strange sort of bravery born of lust came over you. “I want to hear it when you come inside me,” you challenged.

The rhythmic motion of his hips stuttered, and a moan slipped past his defenses as if by your command.

“That’s good,” you purred. “That’s a good boy.”

Something shifted in his suspicious eyes at your praise. A wall came down. “Yes,” he rasped. “You want to hear it—” his voice was punctuated by a powerful snap of his hips and a wet sound of flesh “—when I fill you with my seed.”

“Fuck—yes. Please. Fill me, come inside me!” your voice shook as you moaned your assent. You were so hollow. You needed him—needed him to fill that emptiness inside. Needed his thick cock splitting you open, punishing you, claiming you.

“When I make you mine.” His eyes were wild, almost frightening in their focus upon you—perfect green tunnels into a soul as volatile as yours. He pounded into you deeper.

And he was loud. He had been loud yesterday when he took you fast and hard against the wall, but that encounter was a blur in your memory. Now his voice was the only music filling your head, replacing the static. He spoke continually in filthy promises and eloquent details of what he wanted to do to you, but his words were punctuated by inarticulate grunts and moans. An aching need built with each primal noise that was so unlike the repressed, cynical Dr. Chilton you knew at work.

Every trembling declaration of your name, every prayer to god that passed his lips sent a shock of arousal to your core, and when he half-begged, half-demanded, “Mine… you are mine,” you couldn’t help but agree.

“Yours!”

You were close, all of your senses lost to an overwhelming need. Chilton released one of your hands and slipped between your legs. Every nerve in your body came alive as he stroked you. Your back arched as you went rigid beneath him, crying out.

His head fell against your shoulder, hips bucking wildly, and he sobbed, “Oh god… yes… yes. Mine… mine… mmm—!”

He shuddered as his warmth flooded you. Though his hand became lazy as his own climax overtook him, you eked out an orgasm from the friction between your bodies. It was enough. Enough to leave a slippery mess on his bedsheets, and enough for the resulting crash.

Your emotional high popped like a soap bubble and left you just as hollow—somehow emptier than before—even with Dr. Chilton’s cock still inside you and his seed filling you. You felt wrong. Guilt churned in the place arousal had been occupying. You almost started to weep as he pulled out of you.

Chilton didn’t seem to notice, glowing with the opposite effect of his completion. He ducked between your legs, grabbed your thighs, and began sucking your overstimulated flesh with renewed enthusiasm.

“Ah! W-wait,” you squirmed in his grasp, but it was firm. “What are you doing? I-I already came!”

The sloppy wet noises paused. His chin was soaked and he took sadistic delight in your distraught whimpers. “Therapy,” he smirked. “I have a theory you have another one in you, and that it will benefit your health.”

“What if I can’t?”

“Be a good little subject for me and try,” he answered, “or we shall be here a long time.” Then he buried his face between your thighs.

It felt sickening at first, like swallowing a cup of sugar—too much of something good that becomes painful. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as his tongue worked mercilessly. Then his fingers pumped inside you, his slick cum serving as a lubricant, and that aching need began to return. Choked cries of misery dissolved into ones of pleasure. He didn’t stop until you came again in his mouth, legs quivering and bruised under his grip. This one was more powerful than the first—you could feel it through your entire body, in every limb, and when it finally passed and his mouth popped wetly off of you, your body was too leaden to move.

Chilton smiled, quite satisfied with himself, licking your release off his lips.

***

Work was less stressful when you returned to it on Monday. Dr. Chilton was suddenly understanding of your mistakes. Though you were terrified he would decide he was wrong about you—you were too much of an idiot and failure for a relationship—things at least improved to the point that you could pretend to be cheerful again. Fake it until you make it was your mantra.

Everyone could tell something had changed.

Shifts were rationed out fairly without the express aim of frustrating employees. Patients received actual treatment. Dr. Chilton’s mood was so much less spiteful that a new hire unironically called him nice.

“He must be getting laid,” was the rumor around the hospital, though no one could decide who in their right mind would sleep with him. Your grin dropped at an orderly’s suggestion it was a prostitute.

You were gathering up your keys and jacket from your personal locker in the staff room when the sound of expensive leather shoes clicking on the stone floor signaled the doctor’s approach. It no longer made you flinch.

Chilton glanced in from the hallway and, seeing you were not alone, politely said, “Good work today,” and continued on, his step lighter than usual.

“You didn’t,” Nurse Clerval said flatly.

“What?”

“You didn’t,” they repeated. A raised eyebrow caused worry wrinkles to erupt beneath a hairline steadily turning grey.

“Of course not!”

“Then what is all this about?”

Your entire body was shifted in the direction Dr. Chilton had gone as if straining to follow, and a tell-tale smile shaped your lips into a fawning curve. Oh, you were so busted.

“We happened to talk the other day, that’s all. In private.”

“How private?” Another brow raise.

Your cheeks burned. “It’s not like that! He’s shy. When we talked one-on-one, it turns out we get along. He apologized for always singling me out, and he’s just trying to be more supportive. As a management style.”

Clerval stared at you hard. Your chest puffed out, really proud of that lie. The older nurse had seen enough within the hospital walls to know the administrator suddenly adopting a kinder, gentler management style was horseshit. But their jaded heart had not lost all compassion. A young nurse caught fucking the boss would get ripped to pieces by the gossip mill in this vicious place.

“OK. Fine,” they surrendered. “Just don’t go around making googly eyes, or people will get the wrong idea.”

***

A timid knock sounded on Dr. Chilton’s door, although it was still open from his last meeting—a junior psychiatrist who hurried out fuming and near tears. Perhaps that was why the next appointment was hesitant to come in.

He looked up from his computer, and the crankiness entrenched in his bones shook off at the sight of your face. You were his eighth performance evaluation that day, somewhere in the middle of the pack, and he’d lost track. Now his demeanor shifted, and he did something he hadn’t done for the others by rising from his desk to greet you.

“Close the door, if you would,” he said before you got too far into the room.

The latch clicked shut.

You were nervous. Though you had been dating for months, you remained distant during the workweek to avoid scandal—if news of a relationship got back to the board, you might be transferred to another hospital. Alone in his office, it was unclear whether Dr. Chilton was your boss or your boyfriend. Letting you dangle in suspense sent a thrill of excitement up his spine.

“Take a seat. Let’s get started, shall we?” he said, sitting back down behind his computer.

His massive desk was known as “the moat” by his staff, and it created an impersonal distance between you. He eyeballed you from across the moat, tapping his fingers together as he sank into his tall-backed leather chair. You sat on a small wooden chair, feeling very much like a specimen, and focused on the space between his eyes.

“You have been late five times this year and had to have an ID card replaced,” he said in clipped syllables, launching right into the review with one “needs improvement” after another.

Your stomach twisted into a familiar knot, but you managed not to spiral into an attack of self-loathing and anxiety. If you were going to cry, you could hold it until later.

Talking to someone helped.

Even Chilton admitted it was unethical for your boyfriend to be your therapist, and recommended you to someone with more expertise. You had been seeing Dr. Bloom for three months, and the dark fog was slowly receding. She taught you how to beat it back. Finding another job, for example, was not an outrageous, impossible idea if your current one was making you miserable. And most of your mistakes were no worse than the mistakes of your coworkers whom you very much wanted to keep living. She started you on a bupropion prescription that helped stabilize your moods, and you found yourself able to focus better because of it, too.

It also helped not being bullied at work every day.

The more your self-esteem improved over the months, the more you came to resent the shameful way Frederick used to treat you. Yet, as those same months went by, his actions drifted further into the territory of Past Frederick. That man was a stranger now—you could hardly hold Present Frederick accountable for his actions. Present Frederick was attentive and warm, always surprising you with lavish meals from Baltimore’s finest restaurants, spa days, and quiet nights at home. And as your boss, he was aloof but polite whenever he had cause to speak with you.

Why was he acting so cold now?

Dr. Chilton’s green eyes bore into you over the top his computer screen. “Tsk tsk… I am afraid your performance has not been exceptional, nurse. Perhaps there is something you can do to improve what goes into my report…” A thin lecherous smile spread over his lips.

You weren’t sure what he meant until he beckoned you to his side of the moat, and his hand slid under your shirt.

“What are you willing to do for a better evaluation, my little pet?” He winked mischievously, a hint of playfulness lighting his eyes, though his desire was deadly serious.

“We said never at work.”

“Yes, but now we have reason to be locked in my office, alone. Nothing that would raise suspicion. You are all mine for the next twenty minutes.”

A gasp rushed from your lips as his fingers expertly found a nipple and pinched. Your skin prickled with need.

“In that case, doctor… what will it take? I’ll do anything!” You added a desperate tremble to your voice as you got into the role he wanted you to play.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to bend you over this desk?” Frederick growled with lust, his breath hot in your ear as he grabbed your arms and spun you to face it. It had been a fantasy for far longer than you had been dating. His erection pressed against your ass.

You twisted your neck to catch the side of his mouth in a sloppy kiss. He smirked against your tongue before shoving you down.

The flat of his hand trailed up your back, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades to push your cheek into the polished mahogany.

“Good… very good,” he said. His breath shook with excitement.

Pulling your scrubs down, he rubbed the thickness of his cock over your opening. You shuddered at the cold sensation of lubricant and moaned as he reached between your thighs to stroke you.

“You are always ready for me to take you whenever I want it. To do anything I ask. It is my favorite thing about you—did you know that, my needy little pet?”

His hips rocked, the blunt head of his cock circling, pushing at your tightness. You let out a strangled whimper that almost sounded like a, “Yes, Doctor Chilton.”

“Be quiet now, remember,” he chided as his strong fingers dug into your hips and drew them against his in one fluid motion.

A gasp erupted from your throat—you fought to comply as he stretched you open, biting down on your fist. You were so tight around his cock, but it was the rush of power that drove him into a frenzy. He felt so in control, gripping your hips as he pounded you against his large desk. The desk was his own furnishing, and he was proud of how substantial it was—too heavy to scrape across the floor even as he fucked you. No creaking to indicate cheap construction. The height of refinement. Silent. No one would know what was happening just behind the closed door of his office—his domain. He had control here. It was something he was desperate for after two near-fatal attacks left him weakened and helpless, and his office was one of the few places he could exert his will absolutely. His office was his safety. And you. You completed it.

“You’re mine,” he grunted. “So submissive for me, bent over… God, yes—”

The one thing Dr. Chilton desired in life more than control was to be adored, and you adored him. The most pleasant ray of sunshine to grace the BSHCI was secretly broken like him. Was secretly his. All his. He had everything he wanted—your obedience, your affection, your strangled cries as you fought to stay quiet, your body writhing in pleasure beneath him—

He shuddered and came.

He finished sooner than he intended, and awareness of being old and weak came flooding back as his release dripped out around his cock and dribbled down your thighs. Fuck. He fucked it all up. But you turned and wrapped your arms around him anyway, kissed him like you weren’t even disappointed, and made him forget he wasn’t good enough. God, he could get lost in you.

Every day, he was a little less self-conscious. More comfortable having you close. He learned to trust you.

After a life of suffering, you were his happy ending.

***

“I love you.”

You hadn’t said it yet, but you were going to today.

Frederick Chilton’s hand was always in yours wherever you went—under the dinner table, on your thigh in the car, on the couch while the other hand typed away on a laptop. Soon he wouldn’t be able to hide his affection at work. You already caught him nearly slipping up and calling you “pet” in front of another nurse. It wouldn’t be long before it all came out. And it would be alright.

You were already looking at jobs at other hospitals in Baltimore. Most even came with a pay increase. Then when your relationship went public, there would be no scandal, no dating your boss, just the two of you together. A real couple. He was going to invite you to move in with him so you could still see each other every day—you were sure of it. The thought sent thrills of goosebumps tingling up your arms.

For once, when you looked to the future, you saw something bright.

“Hey Clerval, have you seen Dr. Chilton? I tried his office, but…”

The old nurse sighed heavily. Swinging their feet off the breakroom table, they set aside the yogurt cup they were halfway through and gave you a tired look. You hadn’t exactly told Clerval about your secret relationship, but they knew, and so far, no one else did. Not that they approved. In fact, you had never seen Clerval so worn down as when the topic of you and Dr. Chilton came up.

“His schedule says he’s in his office, which means he’s probably in one of his ‘unorthodox therapy’ sessions.”

Your head cocked. “His what?”

Clerval pinched the bridge of their nose, giving yet another sigh at your naivety. (At this rate, they were going to run out of air.) “Experimental procedures. Things the good doctor doesn’t want on record.”

There was a bitter bite to their words, yet at the same time, resignation. This hospital sucked the soul out of everyone who entered it, and Henry Clerval had been a nurse here longer than anyone. Longer than Frederick Chilton had been a doctor.

“Oh,” you said. “Well,” you scuffed the white rubber sole of your sneaker on the stone floor. “I’m sure he has a good reason.”

“I always see those hypnotherapy lights flashing around Ward A when no one is scheduled for therapy. Try there,” Clerval suggested with defeat.

“Thank you!” you called, sneakers already running down the hall in the direction of the women’s ward.

“Are you sure you want to interrupt his session?”

“I want to surprise him! I’ve got something important to say!”

***

If anyone had been outside women’s wing cell 4B on any Wednesday around noon, they would have heard a wet choking sound, but the staff was too jaded to care. If the guards had any idea what was happening, they got off on it, and didn’t try to stop it.

“Am I good girl, daddy?”

“Yes… yes,” Dr. Chilton hissed between his teeth, biting his lower lip to keep his breath from exploding out in a tortured moan. “A good girl.”

It was an accident the first time a hypnotherapy session regressed Julianne back to a sexually abusive childhood. She grabbed for his belt, and he froze. He almost yelped out in terror and called for a guard, but then she had his cock in her warm, wet mouth, sucking it to fullness, and moaning for him (or rather, for the memory of the father and brother she eventually murdered).

This wasn’t therapy.

When you became a soft part of his life, he stopped trying to justify his actions as anything other than more exploitation in her long life of being exploited. He let it happen because he was lonely, and he continued doing it because he did not care who else got hurt. There were no possible therapeutic benefits for the patient. He himself noted an exacerbation of dissociative symptoms, if there was ever any doubt that he was not thinking of her care. He only wanted a warm mouth to service him, even if it was not the one he longed for.

Then you became more than a daydream, and he recognized how deeply he hated himself. Because he had you—not only your body, but your heart.

But he never stopped.

Every week, like clockwork, he continued the hypnotherapy sessions and left Julianne confused with the bitter taste of his ejaculation in her throat.

You could have been his happy ending.

It wasn’t too late. You filled his lonesome days with affection and understanding he never thought possible. You taught him that he wasn’t too old and broken to love. In forty-five miserable years, he hadn’t ruined things so badly he could never find happiness.

You could have been his epilogue if he only loved you as well as you loved him.

It was not your fault what happened next.

But of course, of all the nurses and orderlies, doctors and guards in the BSHCI, you were the only one kind enough to want to surprise him with lunch. The only one who would have a sinking feeling about the rhythmic squelching coming from cell 4B. Anyone else would have said it was someone else’s business and walked away before seeing something that might obligate them to fill out paperwork.

You were too kind for this place. Too kind for the scarred doctor whose heart died a long time ago.

He watched your eyes widen from the other side of the bars. Saw your face turn from confused to nauseous, then crumple into tears as an involuntary groan escaped his lips—Julianne kept sucking at an unwelcome, now painful pace.

Then you turned and ran.

Julianne never stopped until he finished, though he was no longer in the mood. He never touched her, but he tried to back up, wanted to run after you. She stayed with him. This time he broke his rule and placed a hand to her forehead to push her away. Grasping his thighs, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder. Blood hammered in his ears. If he ripped her away, she could become violent or wake from the hypnosis, and he did not know how much was she aware was real. What her reaction might be. She was surprisingly strong as she held on, teeth grazing threateningly along his shaft the more he struggled.

She never stopped until he finished.

He was trapped.

He whimpered, cock going soft even as she bobbed faster. He tried to close his eyes and think about you, but that was ruined. You were gone forever. There was nothing he could say to explain himself, unless he drugged you with the right cocktail of psychotropics to make you suggestible, your memory malleable…

Solutions he knew would never work raced through his mind as the throbbing between his legs became an agonizing burn devoid of pleasure.

Panic rose and tightened his chest.

***

An anonymous call was made to the board of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The subsequent investigation found “no conclusive evidence” of Dr. Chilton’s alleged breach of ethics, owing not to the lack of such evidence existing, but the board’s desire to sweep the incident under the rug. He was, however, summarily fired and replaced by Dr. Alana Bloom. A forward-thinking move—if the truth ever came out, the hospital would have a friendly feminist face for public relations.

He never went to jail. Never got what he deserved.

Within a month, his book Hannibal the Cannibal became a national best-seller, and he was on tour, raking in wealth and acclaim. He probably would have left his position at the hospital anyway.

There was only one thing he lost, and he used much of the book’s royalties hiring a private investigator to keep tabs on you. It was the only way he could be sure you were safe when you would not return any of his calls.

As much as he was terrified of you becoming suicidal again, the truth hurt more.

You were doing well.

You resigned from BSHCI. Within a month, you had a new job as a graphic designer of all things. He never knew you were an artist. There were so many things about you he never asked, and now he never would.

Every so often, he would drive by your house and slow down, trying to catch a glimpse of you. He imagined seeing you hanging a rope, and rescuing you just in time. A thousand versions of the confrontation played in his mind—you screaming, “Stay away from me!” with disgust. Tears streaming from your puffy red eyes. Him pleading, “Do not hurt yourself because of my mistake.” The bark of your sardonic laugh at the realization that he cared.

In a few, precious few, of these fantasies, you would throw yourself into his arms and forgive him.

But he never saw you in danger, and he rarely indulged dreams as unlikely as reconciliation.

Eventually, he didn’t even get to hear your voice directing him to leave a message—only an automated recording that the number has been disconnected. Sometimes, however, you were sitting on the couch in your living room near the window, and it was enough to justify the forty-minute detour through your neighborhood.

One day, your silhouette was not alone.

***

Nurse Clerval quit two days after you left.

They couldn’t forget the shock on your face when you burst into the breakroom and nearly collapsed. It was the most heartbreaking thing to see someone so innocent crushed.

“Ch-Chilton… he—”

Sobbing and stuttering, you told them what happened, and Clerval took care of it. You were in no state to get on the phone, be put on hold, and fill out the miles of paperwork that went with everything in a government-funded hospital. It was a pain in the ass, and nothing would get done anyway, which was why no one ever bothered… but they couldn’t ignore the look on your face.

“You’re going to get through this,” the nurse said when you hadn’t moved for a long time. “Just breathe. It’s going to be bad for awhile, but you just keep breathing, keep surviving, and one day you’ll wake up, and… you’ll be through it.”

You rubbed the tears from your eyes to look up at Clerval with new appreciation. The jaded nurse had been haunting these halls for too long and it hardened them, but they were always watching out for you.

When you tried to throw yourself at them, desperate for stability, they turned you down, patting your head like a child. “You’re not in a clear mental state.”

***

A brown paper takeout bag sat on your kitchen counter. You’d missed your own “congratulations on the new job” party, and Clerval got worried, hiding their relief when you answered the door. Your eyes were lifeless.

“I couldn’t face everyone. If any of them knew I was… seeing him”—you shuddered and avoided saying his name—“they wouldn’t be caught dead with me. How could I be so stupid?”

A calloused thumb wiped a tear from your cheek. “I miss your smile.”

They gave you a small, sad smile of their own. It was the first time you’d seen Clerval smile. Their face looked like it was made to smile, you decided—like it used to a long time ago, but forgot how.

“When you were dating Dr. Chilton... fuck that bastard, but you were happy. I loved coming to work and seeing you smile like that. It brightened up the gloom. I’d like to see you smile like that again someday.”

“I’m sorry,” you choked. “I don’t know if I can anymore.”

Suddenly you were wrapped in a hug, with a comforting voice in your ear. “You can. You will.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Shut up, I’m clair-fucking-voyant, and I goddamned know you will. Now go on and live your life like you believe it too. Don’t you dare turn into an old cynic like me.”

***

Frederick Chilton thought his lungs would burn through his ribcage—that his throat would close up, and he would die. Seeing you with someone else was more than he could stand, and he drove home with a death wish, gas pedal to the floor. He would rather be wrapped around a telephone pole than make it back to his empty, too-large house.

But the universe does not dole out fair consequences.

He deserved to die in a jealous rage. To be arrested. You should have thrown wine in his face in a dramatic public confrontation. Screamed at him. But you never did.

There was no satisfying comeuppance or divine punishment.

There was only the memory of your heart breaking, and knowing three things in that moment: You loved him. It was over. And it was his fault. There was a time in his life when he was happy. When he had you to hold in his arms, kiss away his nightmares, and fill his days with love.

And then he didn’t.

All he had left was the smell of you on his sheets and a hoodie you had forgotten. He laid it out on a pillow beside him and inhaled until even your scent was gone.

Years later, lying in his own charred remains inside an oxygen chamber, he wondered if you would visit and start to cry at the sight of him. Forgive him.

He never saw you again.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

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#Frederick Chilton x reader #darkfic #angst #gender-neutral reader

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babbushka · 4 years ago

Text

The Shape of You (3/12)

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren x Reader

You do a good job of it, staying out of the way. You’re quiet, you’re unsuspecting, you’re practically invisible; just the way you like it. Until one sunny summer day in 1962, the government base where you work acquires an unusual asset, and everything you know is about to change. In the race to save this lonely, desperate, beautiful man, loyalties are shaken on all sides – and the bonds of true love are tested.

7.4k ; CW: mentions of injury, mentions of past torture, angst

Tumblr Masterlist | Available on AO3

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

When you wake, it is dark once again.

For a moment, you blink and stare at the ceiling, the phantom image of his face swimming in the inky black of night. Holding on to that face, you tentatively reach a hand out into the air, hoping to touch him, hoping to feel something.

In the end, it is nothing but empty air, and your hand drops.

“The only station for when you’re on the go, tune in to AM W-6-Z-O!” The swingin’ dancers on the radio blare once again, an official signal that the time for dreaming is over.

With this new encounter, this new…you don’t even know what it is, you can’t help but feel your pulse quicken. Everything is the same – you will get up to brew your coffee, Armitage will pound against the wall, you will share your breakfast and take three buses to work – but simultaneously, nothing will ever be the same again. Because possibly for the first time in many years, you do not dread the thought of going to work.

Not that you dreaded it, work, not really. It was a good job, an important job, a job that was part of something bigger, much bigger than yourself. But you could not deny the excitement that simmers just below your skin at the thought of it.

The thought of seeing him again.

“You’re chipper this morning.” Armitage scowls as he opens the door for you, a bright cheerful smile on your face.

“Haven’t the foggiest idea what you mean.” You breeze right past him, placing the percolator down on his pot-holder that he keeps on the counter just for this very occasion. Immediately going to his cupboards, you begin to remove the flour and sugar, giving him a knowing glance and asking even though you know the answer, “Pancakes?”

“Please, god knows I’m going to need something sweet today.” He groans, moves to sit at the table.

Sometimes, you can’t help but think how domestic this is. How your friendship had blossomed into a bond so much stronger than you had ever expected. You wonder if Armitage thinks it too, if he ever is reminded of a lifetime ago, when he was married to a beautiful woman and had a house in the suburbs, if when you pour his coffee and flip pancakes on the stove, his heart aches for that long gone time.

If he does, he says nothing about it, so you don’t bring it up.

“What have they done now?” You ask instead, knowing that this is a topic of conversation in which Armitage will always have something to say, always have something to complain about.

“It’s just these essays. Half the class it would seem, completely missed the point of the extra credit film.” He sighs, gesturing to a stack of papers once again sitting on the kitchen table.

“Oh that’s alright, at least Boris is happy.” Sliding pancakes off of the pan and onto a plate, you douse them in a generous helping of syrup and powdered sugar for the both of you, before moving to sit opposite him at the table.

Just then, the lights flicker on and off, making you both frown. The power had never had much of an issue before, what with the movie theater just downstairs needing those extra generators. You glance out the window, it wasn’t raining, and it wasn’t windy – both telltale signs of potential power failure.

“Do you ever worry about what will happen when he has to shut down the building?” Armitage grumbles, carefully and very specifically cutting his stack of pancakes into wedge pieces.

“No, because he won’t.” You shut that train of thought down at once within him, knowing that while he likes to pretend otherwise, your Professor has a proclivity for the dramatics unlike anyone else you’ve ever met. “He has renters for a reason after all, and the summer tourists bring in enough to make ends meet.”

Armitage thinks about that for a moment or two, before accepting the answer.

“You’re right.” He concedes, sounding resigned.

“I’m always right.” You wink, and the two of you finish your breakfast in companionable silence.

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

When you leave Armitage’s apartment and go back to your own, you cannot deny the rush that is the thought of seeing him again. It seems so silly, and of course it is silly, but something in you wants to look nice for him.

You fix your hair and pick out your cleanest most nicely ironed uniform, concerned for the first time about how it fits you, how it forms to your body. It is a modest uniform – you are a cleaning woman after all – but you find that despite the drab color palette and utilitarian shape, you look good. The clock chimes, and you realize that there isn’t much time to fuss, so instead of standing in front of the mirror, you pick a pair of heels off your grand shoe display, and hope that he finds the bright blue color appealing.

Dawdling had never been a trait of yours before, and now you understand why.

The bus is sitting and waiting at the stop when you exit your apartment building, and you run in those bright blue heels as fast as your legs can take you to make it just in time. The click-clack of your steps on the pavement alert everyone nearby, as you bolt towards the bus. Water on the ground from the night’s dew reflects the colors of the neon signs all around you, and when your foot splashes in one of the light puddles, a rainbow scatters around your ankles.

You make a beeline straight for the doors, which are open and welcoming you like a warm embrace, and only once the momentum of your body has thrown you into your seat, do you let out a long exhale.

“Thank you, I’m so sorry!” You could bury your face into your hands with how embarrassed you are, but your hands are shaking from the adrenaline of nearly missing the bus.

Missing this bus would have been bad, very very bad. It would have meant that you’d be late to work, and you have never once, not in the entire ten years on the job, have you been late for work. Such an irregularity would have raised suspicion, would have called attention to you – more attention than there already was. They wouldn’t like that, it would compromise your larger job, your more important mission -- you could not afford to be late. So, you sigh with relief and will your heart to stop pounding in your chest; all was well, you are on the bus, it did not pull away from the stop without you on it, you will be there on time.

“Good morning Miss (Y/N), no need to apologize, you know I’ll always wait for you.” Mr. Henry’s kind eyes glance at you with amusement through the rearview mirror, and you once again thank your lucky stars to have a friend like him.

Much like Armitage, you had never expected to befriend the bus driver. You had of course planned on being friendly and polite, but the extent to which you enjoyed the elderly man’s company had surprised you. And what’s more, you were constantly surprised by his willingness to be friendly with you in return. It reminded you that perhaps, there was a solidarity at the bottom – when there is no one to look out for the people like you and him, you look out for one another.

Could Mr. Henry have gotten in trouble by waiting for you? Would he be late to his other stops now? These were questions that you couldn’t help but think, but you have to wonder if they were questions he considered. Surely it would have been easier to simply leave you behind, but he hadn’t done such a thing, and you cannot express how grateful you are for that.

You resolve to thank him somehow, some way more meaningful than simply the words. It strikes you then, that despite speaking to one another every day, you still know very little about the man. You know he has a beautiful wife and a blossoming garden, you know he picks up a cup of coffee from the donut shop before starting his route, and you know which music stations he prefers to listen to. But beyond that, you have both remained relatively private.

He was not so different from you in that regard, you suppose.

Most people are not so different from one another, you suppose.

“For absolutely no reason at all, what is your favorite type of baked good, Mr. Henry?” You ask after a few moments, when the bus has left the stop and has continued its route, the Las Vegas strip a myriad of lights and colors, blinking and twirling in the night.

“Oh you don’t have to go doing all that – ”

“But I want to.” You insist, “Please let me?”

He looks up at you once again through the rearview window, and you see the sparkle of a smile in his eye. You wonder when the last time someone did something kind for him was, someone doing it just out of the want to see him happy.

“I may or may not be fond of those caramel brownies you make.” Sheepishly, almost as if he will be scolded for revealing such information, he confesses this to you.

You recall a time when you had to bring something to the company party, a holiday get together many years ago. You had been charged with bringing a dessert, and as a thank you to Mr. Henry’s continual kindness and hard work, you offered him one.

It makes you strangely emotional, to know that he had enjoyed it enough to remember it, after all these years.

“How very interesting to know.” You smile, and he smiles back, before he turns his attention to the next bus stop, and your window for conversation comes to a close.

She is waiting for you at the bus exchange today, standing and huddled in the large group of other passengers. It is chilly out in the desert tonight, and she has a beautiful black and white checkerboard coat wrapped around her body. In moments like these, watching the steam and fog of the bus exchange plume around her feet, Gwendoline reminds you of a movie star.

Perhaps in another life, her face would light up the screen, her silvery blonde hair and striking cheekbones commanding every man in the theater to fall head over heels in love with her. Sometimes she talks about it, about moving away from this city, about quitting her job.

Perhaps in another life, you might go with her.

Armitage would surely come too, wouldn’t he? He could get a job as a professor anywhere, he could pack up his apartment and join you and Gwen on a trip to Los Angeles, or New York City, or perhaps somewhere abroad – but you can’t, can you. You can’t leave.

And so, as selfish as it is, you hope that Gwen never leaves either, because you’re not so sure what you would do, were she to go.

This is especially true, as she catches sight of you politely making your way to where she is standing, and she smiles and throws a hand up to wave to you, as if you didn’t already see her. Gwen was, in so many ways, a beacon of color in the world of black and grey.

“(Y/N)!” She hollers happily to you, competing with the noise of the bus exchange.

The hiss and hydraulics of brakes and doors opening and closing, the sound of engines revving and radios humming, of the news playing on black and white screens behind a window of glass, of people talking and smoking and eating and laughing even though it’s too early for it all, still through this noise Gwen’s voice cuts through.

“Morning,” You smile back at her, offering a thermos as is your tradition every morning. “Coffee?”

“You’re a saint,” Gwen responds, accepting it as is her tradition. “Oh I love when you wear the blue shoes!”

She takes a step back for you to point your toe and extend your leg ever so slightly, the dazzling satin shining like sapphires in the artificial light of the fluorescent overheads. One of the men waiting in the crowd with you lets out a whistle when your skirt rides up just enough to show a little thigh, and you have to physically restrain Gwendoline from snapping her teeth at him.

“I really like this pair, I don’t know why I don’t wear them more often.” Chuckling just a little at your friend’s fierce protective nature, you draw her attention back to the shoes. It wouldn’t do to get into a fight just minutes before being in an enclosed crowded space together.

“Maybe because they’re the least practical thing for a janitor?” Gwendoline mutters, still shooting the man dirty looks. He has, thankfully, backed off – probably for his own safety. Rarely do men ever expect women to snap back, and oh how Gwendoline’s bite is worse than her bark.

“Maybe, but they are so beautiful.” You shrug, and this at the very least, Gwen can understand.

“Come, I think that’s our bus now.” She whispers to you so as to not draw the attention of the crowd around you, knowing how the rush of everyone wanting to get onto the bus and secure a seat can often lead to a mob.

Sure enough, as she pushes her way to the front and you follow her diligently, when the bus rounds the corner and the pushing and shoving begins, you two are already on your way to the back of the bus, coats and purses in your laps, a deck of cards ready to be shuffled.

In the back of the bus, you and Gwen hide your faces behind a hand of cards each, a game of Go Fish that you are sorely losing. You almost wish that the bus would hit a bump in the road, so that the cards could go scattering all over the floor and you wouldn’t be shamed with the loss, but then the thought of having to clean it all up makes you reconsider.

Gwen, for her part, doesn’t ease up on you one bit, a great big grin on her face as she claims yet another of your cards for her own little pile.

“I dreamt of him again.” You bring up, as nonchalantly as you can.

The bus has greatly reduced down its number of passengers, thankfully. No longer packed like sardines, you and Gwen have enough room to spread out, your belongings no longer piled up on your lap. Instead, they rest on the seat just across the little aisle, as you normally do. Still, it’s not entirely empty, there are quite a few stops to go before the bus pulls over into the dark of the desert and identification is requested.

All this means, is that while you can speak, it has to still be in hushed tones, lest someone from outside the building’s personnel overhear. Gwen hears you perfectly well despite your near whisper, and her face practically alights in the same way those flood lights search the sky.

“Please tell me there’s a face this time!” She abandons the cards to grasp at your hands.

For someone who prides herself on practicality, Gwendoline was incredibly invested in these dreams that you have. Every time you bring it up, she is genuinely and completely interested in hearing more, and you’re more than happy to indulge her.

“There is, and you won’t believe it, but it was, well, it was the Asset.” The last word is whispered so quietly that you might as well just be mouthing the words.

Upon hearing this, her eyes widen, mouth falling open ever so slightly.

“You’ve seen him?” Her shocked whisper makes you cast a glance around.

Good, you think, no one is paying any attention to you, everyone who is left has seated themselves at the front of the bus, knowing that they will be getting off soon and not wanting to have to shuffle through the narrow aisle.

“I – ”

“(Y/N) you didn’t sneak into the lab after all that, did you?” Gwendoline suddenly turns frustrated, exasperated with you. She hisses through clenched teeth, “After that creep Tarkin warned us specifically not to do that very thing?”

“I couldn’t help it Gwen, you can’t tell me that you’re not so curious to know what’s going on in there!” You explain, and she only scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“Of course I’m curious! But I also have some sense of self-preservation.” She looks down at where her hands are clutching yours, turns your palms over in hers. You look down, see how calloused and rough the both of your hands are from a decade of harsh chemicals and hard work. “What if that man is dangerous? What if he hurts you?”

“He can’t, he’s behind bulletproof glass, I don’t think he can even hurt himself with how secure they’ve got him.” You try reassuring her, and it seems that at least for the moment, she is convinced.

Chewing on her lip for a moment or two, eventually she relents to your assurances, and a great big smile spreads over her face once more. You have half a mind to ask her what lipstick she’s wearing, and there you go again, daydreaming about looking nice for this man…

“What does he look like?” Gwen snaps you out of your reverie, and you duck your head, bashful.

You’ve been thinking about him and the way he looks ever since you laid your eyes on him, on his incredibly impressive frame.

“He’s huge. Built like a refrigerator, tall and wide. His face was hard to see, he wears a mask that covers nearly half of it, but his hair is long and dark, and his eyes…” You can see it so clearly, there in your mind’s eye; can see his flexing biceps, the abs, the thick trail of hair that disappears behind those swim trunks they have him in.

With a knowing smile and a shake of her head, Gwendoline sighs.

“You’re going to see him again, aren’t you.” It’s not so much a question, as it is a resignation. She knew you well enough to know that once you’ve decided something, once you’ve put your mind to something, there was very little that could stop you.

If only she knew how deep that sentiment ran.

“I have to, I promised him that I would.” You say, that giddy excitement returning to you once more.

You know that the lab is going to be on your list, you and Gwen are the only ones with high enough clearance for it, you know that at some point in the day, you’ll be face to face with him once again. And that thought thrills you, it has your leg bouncing, your pulse quickening.

Gwen can feel it in your palms, and she lets go of your hands so that you can fiddle with something to keep those busy fingers satisfied.

“Just…just be safe, okay?” She whispers, “You know I’ll cover for you, but I need you to promise me that you’ll be safe.”

Much like Armitage, and even like Boris, or Mr. Henry, you find yourself once again wondering how you got so lucky to have friends so willing to look out for you. You would do the same for any of them in a heartbeat, of course, but something about the knowledge that Gwen would lie to Mrs. Parker, or even Robert – something that could risk her job – made your heart clench.

“I promise.” You whisper.

She looks at you hard, trying to see what thoughts are going on inside your head, before letting the conversation go entirely, picking up her cards once again, determined to beat you at a few more hands before pulling up to the shuttle stop.

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

The morning passes uneventfully, as the mornings typically do. Today though, there’s an undeniable pep in your step, a glow about you that the other janitors notice. It’s not that they hadn’t noticed you before, they had of course – but with Gwendoline around, usually she absorbed all the attention. It was flustering to be on the receiving end of it, listening as the boys in the halls got a little too chummy with you, thinking your smiles were for them. Things like:

“Lookin’ good (Y/N)!”

“Where are you off to with a smile that big?”

“Fancy a smoke with me and the boys?”

Are whistled and shot your way, much to your amusement -- funny what a little confidence and a pair of heels could do!

You politely reject everyone’s advances, diligent about getting your work done and doing it well. The sooner you finish everything on your clipboard, the sooner you can get to the lab. It’s on your list, as you knew it would be, but it’s so far down and comes after so many other tasks, that you feel as though Mrs. Parker knew you were eager to return to the tank and the man inside of it.

Thoughts of the man consume you, as you go about your list. Nothing was too strenuous today which you were grateful for, it wouldn’t do to be too exhausted to spend time with him. So, as you empty all the little trashcans and ashtrays, as you clean windows and glass panes in offices, as you take the great dust broom to the floors, you let yourself wonder about him.

What were they doing to him today? Were they going to hurt him again? Would he kill someone again?

The last time you saw him, he was wounded, and that bacta shit had healed him. Would they be wounding him further, or did they have what they needed? You wondered if the scientists in the lab would be so careless as to leave their notes out again. The boys back home would be more than interested in reading further developments, you were sure.

Reminded of the boys, you feel more determined than ever to figure out what’s going on with this man, why he’s there in the first place. Surely he must be Russian, why else would the government be so keen on keeping him as contained as he is? Although, you don’t recall ever seeing a plane like the one that was being dissected in that warehouse, so maybe he wasn’t.

Maybe he wasn’t human at all…the thought pops into your head, and you blink it away.

The stories of alien life in Area 51 were just that – stories. No matter how often you liked to joke about them with Gwen, that’s all that it was, just jokes. Still, that ion engine, the strange shape of the wings, the strange gel that seems to have otherworldly healing properties…it raised so many questions that you simply didn’t have any answers to.

As you sweep the floors, back and forth and back and forth with your big dust broom, you wonder if perhaps you’ll be able to speak to the man. Perhaps he could give you some answers, perhaps you could help him.

You have no idea how you could, but maybe if the two of you worked together, you could figure out a way. One thing was for certain, you felt something for this mystery man. A sense of protection, a bond of some sort. It didn’t have a name, didn’t have much to define it at all – but it was there. Much like the dream, that reoccurring dream, it was indefinite and blurred around the edges, but it was there all the same.

For a brief moment, you wonder what the man dreams about.

You wonder if he dreams at all, in the tank.

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

Time passes strangely, in the building. You’re certain that you’ve just gotten there, had just hopped off the shuttle with Gwen – but in the blink of an eye, it’s lunch time. Gwendoline very shyly lets you know that she’s going to be having lunch with Mary, and true to your word the other day, you’re nothing but encouraging.

Besides, it means that you could spend your lunch in the lab, it was the next place on your list anyway, no one could be angry with you for being there, no one could accuse you of being out of place. In the locker room though, you find yourself frozen, standing in front of the little metal locker that you call yours. There’s a compact in your purse, and you pull it out, look at yourself, really look at yourself.

You feel so foolish for all this, especially when you open Gwen’s locker and find one of her tubes of lipstick. She always keeps a couple in her locker for emergencies, something you found silly, but now are eternally grateful for. Picking out a shade that best compliments your skin tone, you apply it carefully. The damn thing is likely going to smudge anyway while you eat your lunch, but at the very least you’ll look put together when you first arrive at the lab.

He better be appreciative of all this, you think to yourself with a nervous chuckle, he better care about all the effort you’re going through. Gwen would tell you that men never care, but she’s not here right now, off playing footsie in the courtyard with Mary.

As you walk the halls down in the bowels of the building, you realize how utterly alone you are in here. Everyone is on lunch, all the scientists, the janitors, the management. Not a single soul is in these halls, the greenish bluish light no competition for the sunshine that waits them near the picnic tables outside. You don’t mind, not one bit, and in fact it thrills you, the thought that you might be with him all alone.

Swiping your keycard through the little number pad, the doors beep and slowly open. Three layers of bulletproof steel slide open, one set horizontally, one set vertically, and one set diagonally. This lab would likely be perfectly impenetrable, in case of an attack, but you recognize that as well designed as it is to keep things out, it is also designed to keep things in.

Things like the man, who finally, after what seems like a lifetime, you will get to see again.

The lab is, much like the rest of this wing of the building, empty.

Once again you are faced with the mechanical nature of it all, the dark grey metal walls and floor, the tables with all sorts of piles stacked high atop them. The lighting is dark, kept dim, even dimmer than the halls outside. You hold your breath as the doors shut behind you, as they lock time and time again, sealing the lab away from the rest of the world.

You park your janitorial cart against the wall, your brown paper bag lunch clutched in your hands, just for something to hold, something to keep your hands occupied so that they don’t shake.

"Hello?" You call out gently, hopefully.

The tank is on the far end of the lab, and you take care to approach it cautiously. There are a million bubbles filling the tank, the bacta gel having been disturbed, and recently. Those bubbles trap the air and make the gel look nearly white with all the foam. You have to get closer, have to approach the glass, straining to see inside it.

“It’s just me, I’ve come back to visit you.” You try again, this time speaking a little louder. Maybe he just couldn’t hear you, through the glass and the gel.

Bracing yourself for him to scare the shit out of you with a startling appearance, you nearly press your nose to the tank. But seconds go by, and there is no activity. A deep deep sense of disappointment and fear spike through your body – if he was not here, where was he? What had they done to him? Where had they taken him? Was he alright -- ?

The immediate string of questions is interrupted by a splashing sound coming from your left, and you whirl around, clutching the brown paper bag to your chest.

He is out of the tank, but he is still here, still in the room with you. For whatever reason, he has been moved from the tank to the pool, and you know this because as you watch with wide eyes, he rises up out of the water, standing up to his full height on his two legs, strong legs, powerful thighs that flex and carry his body towards you.

Remaining perfectly still, you do your best not to gasp. You had thought perhaps, the glass from the tank had distorted his proportions, maybe he wasn’t nearly as big as you had thought. But you’re wrong, he’s even bigger somehow, in the flesh, in front of you. He must be over six feet tall, and twice as wide as the normal man, or at least, twice as wide as any man you had ever seen.

But the most unexpected thing of all, is that he is not wearing the mask.

You have a clear, unobstructed view of his face for the first time, and it takes your breath away. He is utterly, completely, totally handsome. Your imagination could have never come up with the configuration of his features, never in a million years. His nose, so strong and proud looks slightly broken from the front, but when he shakes the water away from his hair and you catch sight of his profile, it is beautifully sloped and triangular. His lips have to be the most full and plush that you’ve ever seen, his ears are large as they poke out from the dark drenched blackness of his hair.

You’re staring, you know you are, but he doesn’t seem deterred. In fact, he’s staring right back at you, looking at you with soulful brown eyes that seem to be sharper than anything you’ve ever seen, eyes that seem to be taking you in with the same level of intensity that you do him.

“Oh!” You realize that he can hear you now, you realize that this is the chance you’ve been hoping for, so you reach out your hand for him to shake, and offer him a friendly, “Hello.”

The man’s eyes track the movement in a way that can only be described as predatory, as an apex creature focusing all their energy on their prey. Strangely though, you don’t feel like prey. Keeping your hand extended, you take slow even breaths, showing him that you mean no harm, showing him that you won’t hurt him.

You’re not like those men, those scientists, you won’t hurt him.

“My name is (Y/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You introduce yourself, speaking as carefully and clearly as you can. “What’s your name? Can you understand me?”

The man simply looks at you, as if in a trance of some kind. You look around, check over your shoulder to make sure, absolutely sure, that no one is around.

Once you’re determined that the coast is clear, and this man continues to take in the sight of you, you move one step forward, closer to the edge of the pool.

“Can you understand me now?” These words come in another language, a switch of your tongue that would have you arrested on site if anyone had heard.

He frowns, confused, and you wonder if this is the first time anyone has tried being polite to him since his capture. You’re about to retract your hand, when suddenly, he lifts his own, his arm tensing as he reaches for you – only to be stopped by long chains that are attached to cuffs on each of his wrists, and to the metal collar he wears around his throat.

The man looks at his bindings, and strains against them with a strangled shout of frustration. His muscles bulge, but it’s to no avail, whatever he has been shackled in, is too strong for him to break through. You have to sit, your legs unable to support you for the moment as you take him all in. Settling on a step near the edge of the pool, you lean in enough for this man to do the same. He too sits, just on the other side of the edge, as close to you as the chains will allow.

Reaching your hand further, further, further still, the man freezes as you place a palm to his cheek. The skin of his scar is smooth, and you find that surprising, as you stroke his face. Eyes closing, the man lets out a shaky shuddering exhale, nuzzling into your palm. He reminds you of a bear trapped in spiked teeth out in the forest, or a lion in the cage of a circus.

“Why do they have you chained and collared like this, why are you here?” The Russian flows freely now, you no longer hold it back the way that you might have in front of anyone else.

Then, suddenly, the strangest noises come out of his mouth. You think that he might be in pain for a minute, but then you realize no, he is speaking to you, impassioned and desperate, his voice is deep, rumbling, coming from the depths of his chest, a baritone that vibrates down inside your bones.

This is the voice that you heard in your dream, you realize. The voice parroting your words back to you, now you know why it had sounded so strange, so off. This man didn’t speak English, and he had only been mimicking the sounds, not knowing what it meant. You’re not sure what this man speaks, and it pains you, it pains you to not share this with him.

“I – I’m sorry I don’t understand.” You have to cut him off, putting your hand over his mouth to interrupt him, to get him to stop. You’re not sure if he even knows what you’re saying, if he can understand but not translate it out of his own mouth, you don’t know. “I’m familiar with ten different languages but yours isn’t one of them, I’m sorry.”

The man looks so sad, devastated, and that at least feels like maybe he can understand you. All at once, you recognize that if he can understand you, there may be hope. Perhaps if you both learn to communicate in a way that doesn’t rely on words, perhaps if you can find a way, you can help him.

That will require some planning, great planning, careful planning.

The man is watching you, he rests his head on the ledge of the pool, his black hair slinking and sliding down the strong muscles of his back. It is as if he is telling you to not be afraid of him, the very same way you were trying to tell him not to be afraid of you.

It strikes you, for a moment, how human he is. Even if by some cosmic improbability he is an alien, he is human. His stomach growls then, loudly, so loudly that it makes you laugh, and you shut yourself up immediately, afraid of scaring him with the noise. He doesn’t go anywhere though, his eyes only widen, making you smile.

The man mimics the motion, smiling back at you, a small laugh of his own.

He has dimples, you think, as you only grow more and more attached to him, and his teeth are so crooked.

“Here, I don’t know what kind of shit they feed you, but you must be hungry.” You rifle through the little brown paper bag that you’ve been holding in a death grip this entire time, pulling out the first thing you see. The clementine fills your palm, you offer it to him cautiously, encouraging, “Go ahead, you can have it, I promise it’s okay.”

The man, wherever he has come from, must not have seen one of these before, because he takes it in his hand and immediately goes to bite through the rind. Your hand flies out and grabs his before he can do so, and despite it all, you laugh again.

He scowls, thinking you’re making fun of him, so you simply shake your head and demonstrate how to peel the hard outer flesh of the fruit away.

“Don’t make fun of me for the way I peel it, I can never get it to come off in one go.” You mutter, wondering wondering wondering if he can understand you.

Watching diligently and carefully, he sits patiently at the edge of the pool, his palm extended, resting near your hands. Piece by piece you peel the clementine, always trying to get it in one spiral but failing, as usual. Eventually, once the floor has been littered with peel and the clementine is bare, you pry the citrus into segments, and place one in his hand.

It looks so small, comically small in the man’s palm, even smaller as he raises the piece to his mouth and pops it in between his teeth, the juice squirting into your face, making you laugh once again. The man’s face lights up immediately, already asking with those strangled sounding words that you cannot understand, a language foreign to even your ears.

“It’s good right?” You hope that that’s what he’s saying, you hope that he likes it. Giving him the whole thing, you watch as he delicately pulls the segments apart. “Bright and sweet. It’s just about the only thing bright in this whole place, hm?”

Instead of eating the entire thing as you would have expected him to do, the man thoughtfully gives you half of the segments. You notice that they are the larger pieces, the ones that must be more flavorful, juicier. He is kind, you decide, kind enough to offer you the better of the halves at the very least.

“Why are you here?” You whisper, knowing he cannot answer. “Why do they torture you so?”

There are no fresh wounds this time, you are glad to see. Nothing healing or inflicted, just the smoothed over scars. You long to touch them, the pink lines that mar his flesh, but he is a person of agency, and you will not disrespect him the way that these scientists do.

So instead, you offer your hand out to him once more, and after careful consideration, the man presses his cheek against your palm. Your thumb rubs soothing circles against the little beauty marks and freckles that pepper his skin, and you sigh.

“I’m going to figure out a way for us to communicate. I don’t know how, but I will.” You tell him, tell yourself, “You won’t be alone, I’ll help you, I just need to figure out how.”

Out in the hall beyond the sealed off lab, a bell chimes, signaling that lunch is over. Regret and disappointment rise up in your throat like acid, you don’t want to leave him, you don’t want to go away from him. He has been in your dreams, all this time, it has been him, of this you’re now sure. But you have a job, you have a responsibility, and you cannot lose it now.

Pulling away, he makes a noise of protest, and this is a noise you can understand.

“I have to clean. You can watch me, if you’d like, but I can’t just sit here all day, or else they’ll be very angry with me.” You explain to him, willing him to understand, “And if they’re angry, then I can’t visit again.”

The man sighs, chews on the segmented clementine.

With that, you move to the other side of the lab where you’ve parked your cart. The only thing on the list is to mop the floors, and you find that you hate that, you wish there were more, wish that you could have more time. You never thought you’d think this, but you hate how efficient you’ve become, how they’ve entrusted you with the jobs they know you are quick at. It is a double edged sword, because if you weren’t good at it, then maybe they wouldn’t have assigned this lab to you in the first place.

Dunking your mop in the solution that you make yourself – vinegar and baking soda, and a little dish soap – you begin to work, the thing you’re actually there for. It is very obvious that he’s watching you, from his spot in the pool. He walks back and forth, almost stalking you, his hulking frame tethered to you by an invisible string. When you go to the right, so does he. When you double back to the left, he goes as well. You smile, hoping that he finds the incredible mundanity of it all not so mundane.

“You’re very handsome. I’m only saying this because I know you’ve got no idea what it is that I’m saying, otherwise I’d be dying of embarrassment. But you’re handsome.” You admit when your back is turned to him, swishing the mop this way and that, picking up the little stains and debris that have stuck to the floor in the time since it was last mopped. “I was wondering what your face looked like, without the mask.”

You continue to mop, and he continues to watch you.

In a strange sense, it is almost like a dance. The sound of the water splashing as he moves back and forth, as he creates little waves and currents, acts as a rhythm, a steady beat to which you mop. His breathing is calm, and he seems to be in a relaxed mood. Maybe he has been hypnotized by the repetitive motions that you make, or maybe, a hopeful part of you thinks, maybe he feels completely at ease with you.

The thought sours in the back of your throat, because you know that once you have finished this, you will have to leave.

You prolong it, you try your best, you really do. But eventually there comes a point in which you cannot procrastinate any longer, you cannot draw it out. The floor is mopped, your clipboard is checked.

Carefully, walking over the freshly mopped tiles slowly and deliberately so that you don’t slip, you sit on the edge of the pool once again, something painful like sorrow making your head hurt.

“I’m done.” You whisper, “I have to go now.”

He’s alarmed by this, the man. He seizes forward, rushes to reach for you with wide panicked eyes, but the chains around his neck yank him back, and he stumbles for a moment, nearly loses his footing in the water. You could cry, with the desperation in the words that he speaks, with the way he reaches for you with bound hands.

You lean as far into the pool as you can, your arms wrapping around him, nearly toppling over into the water with how far forward you are. You don’t care, so what if you should fall? You cannot bear to see him so sad, and so you pull him into an embrace. He holds you tightly, hands curling in your hair, breathing in your smell.

“I know, I know I’m sorry – I don’t want to leave you. But I’ve got more work to do.” Your voice wobbles, hating this, hating how he’s chained, hating how he’s going to be all alone, how he’s going to be tortured and harmed in your absence. You hate it, and he doesn’t want to let you go, you can tell by how strong of a grip he has on you as he talks and talks and talks in a language you don’t know.

There is nothing you can do today though, to help him. For the first time in your life, you feel overwhelmingly insignificant, in the way that you can’t do anything to help him.

“I’ll come back tomorrow, even if it’s not on the list, okay? I’ll come back, I promise.” Your hands cup his cheeks, looking at one another, your eyes boring into his. “I’ll always come back.”

You let go of him now though, and you turn your back to him, mopping up your steps so that the footprints do not give you away.

Swiping your keycard through the number pad once more, the doors open for you, and you do your best not to cry when you hear his pained shout muffled behind the steel.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren reader insert #supreme leader kylo ren #shape of water au #sow au #my writing #kylo ren angst #kylo ren fluff #adam driver fanfiction #adcu

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hermits-that-craft · 3 years ago

Text

Powers Au - Nature

TW - fighting, blood, past abuse, betrayal

Dream hides under the blankets, his eyes screwed shut. The sound of his father screaming in pain echoes through his head. He might only be nine, but he knows that his father is a bad man. He knows that the man hurts people, thinks that he’s a god. He knows that his father uses him to force people to stay in his territory. Dream knows, prime, Dream knows that this was a long time coming.

But the scream echoes in his head, and in his heart the boy knows his father is dead. He mourns the man, prime only knows that he mourns, but he doesn’t leave the safety of the blankets. Heroes could be here - Dream helped the monster who fashioned himself Dream’s ‘father’ - and they’ll kill him. His father hurt people, but he never lied. Lying is worse than killing, in his father’s eyes.

“Hey,” A soft voice says, suddenly in the room with Dream. “My name’s Puffy, but my heroes name is Captain. Are you injured?”

Dream shakes his head, trembling under the blankets. She’s going to kill him, she’s going to cut him up and eat him, she’s going to-

He sticks his head out from under the blankets, looking at her. She has dark, chocolate brown eyes and fuzzy brown hair that looks like - is it wool? It looks so soft, and there’s a strip of it thats rainbow. She isn’t wearing a mask, he can see it discarded on the floor besides his bed, with a hairtie next to it, and her hood is down. She is covered in blood, and red footprints trail out of the room towards her.

“Hey buddy,” she says. “What’s your name?”

“Dream.” He mumbles, fear wracking his small frame again. The heroine - Puffy - smiles at him brightly.

“That’s a lovely name.” She says, and she reaches her hand out to him. “Why don’t you come with me, we’ll take you to a hospital to make sure you don’t have any injuries.”

Dream frowns, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders. He can feel the blood on his back drying, feel the way his foot throbs in pain every time a muscle twitches. He knows its broken. He knows his injured. But this woman could hurt him, could lie to him, and-

“You can keep your blanket, if you want.” She offers, the kindness never wavering.

“My foot hurts.” He mumbles pathetically, tears springing in his eyes.

“Then I guess i have to carry you.” She spreads her arms, and Dream pathetically throws himself into her embrace.

Puffy picks him up, holding him as though he’s worth something, as though he’s not made everything that she is supposed to defeat. As though his father hadn’t forced him to kill so many people. As though he’s made of gold, and his blood flows with rubies and gemstones.

Dream falls asleep in her careful hold, letting the soft wool of her hair become a pillow.

---

“When will my nephew return from the war.” Schlatt complains as Puffy stacks her dishwasher, rolling her eyes. “It’s been 48 years!”

“School isn’t a war, Schlatt.” Puffy says simply, carefully placing the cutlery into the little bucket made for them. “And if my memory serves me right, you’re still in university.”

“Poli-sci is different to fifth grade, Puffy. Ten year olds are evil.”

“Mum! I’m home!” Dream calls, and Puffy can hear a crash as he throws his bag into the wall.

“Speak of the devil.” Schlatt mumbles under his breath, a fond smile on his face.

“How was school?” Puffy yells back at him.

“I made a new friend! His name is George!” Dream says, walking into the kitchen. “Uncle Schlatt!”

“Come give your favourite uncle a hug, kid.” Schlatt smirks.

“Oh, is Uncle Sam over?” Dream says, and Schlatt gasps in mock horror.

“Oh you’ve wounded me!” Schlatt says, dramatically falling to the ground. “The horror! The pain! How could you?”

“And you say that Wilbur hasn’t rubbed off on you.” Puffy laughs, putting the last plates into the dish washer.

“Hey, he hasn’t.” Schlatt says from where he lies, Dream standing triumphantly over his ‘dead body’. “Just cause that theatre nerd is my friend, doesn’t mean that he’s rubbed off on me.”

“Sure thing.” Puffy laughs, turning the dish washer on. “C’mon now, lets see what homework you have so that you and Uncle Schlatt can hang out for longer.”

---

“Dream.” The teen pauses, halfway out of the window. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Dream’s voice cracks, and he blushes slightly.

“So, if I came into your room, you wouldn’t be halfway out of your window, in vigilante gear?” Puffy’s voice is light, but he can tell that she’s worried.

“Nope!” Dream smiles brightly. His vigilante gear is kept at George’s house since, well, the other teens parent’s don’t care about what George, Sapnap and Dream do as long as they aren’t too injured.

Puffy sticks her head in, shaking her head when she see’s Dream, still halfway out of the window. She gestures for him to go to bed, sighing.

“You know, when I let your uncle buy us this house I thought that you’d like the yard, not the easy to escape windows.” She smiles, though he can see the nervousness in her eyes.

“You alright, Mum?”

“There was these two kids, when I was out on patrol.” Puffy says, patting the bed besides her. “I’m worried for them.”

“Why?” Dream asks, slowly pulling himself from the window. “They get mugged or something?”

“They were following the syndicate.” Puffy leans back on the wall, and Dream lets her hug him. “They can’t be older than you, as well. I’m just worried.”

“You weren’t older than me when you adopted me.” Dream points out.

“I was seventeen. You’re fourteen.”

“Three years.”

“Still makes a difference.” Puffy ruffles his hair. “Now, who were you sneaking out to see. A girl?”

“Primse, Mum! No! I wasn’t.”

---

Puffy watches from another room as Dream and Foolish meet. Foolish flinches away from Dream, who sits down at a distance. Puffy makes herself busy as she looks around the kitchen. Eret may have been adopted by Callahan, but Foolish is her newest son, and she forgot to even warn Dream, the teen’s going to hate this.

“Did Mum pick you up from a villains base as well?” Dream asks after a moment, getting a startled laugh from Foolish.

“Yeah?” The other teen affirms after a moment. “Does she do that a lot?”

“Well, she did it with me. I’m starting to sense a pattern.” Dream jokes, and Puffy relaxes, pulling out some spaghetti. Easy dinner, for tonight, it sounds like.

A few quiet whispers are exchanged by the pair, and then raucous laughter erupts from the lounge room. Yeah, this is home.

---

Dream leans against a tree, pressing bandages into his side. Sapnap stands besides him, nervously looking around to see if any villains or heroes show up. No one does, not even George, who’s probably still sleeping.

“What did they do to Dad?” Sapnap mumbles weakly after a moment. “Why was he all-”

“Infected?” Dream offers after Sapnap trails off, his eyes a thousand yards away. “He looks like the egg got him.”

“But isn’t Pa enough? Why’d he have to take Dad as well?” Tears pour down Sapnaps face, and Dream winces. “I want my family back.”

“I know.” Dream says, sinking to the ground. “We’ll fix them. We’ll save them. The heroes-”

“The heroes are killing them! They kill anyone who gets possessed!” Sapnap protests. “They’ll kill them.”

“Then I guess we need to oppose the heroes.” Dream says, looking over at the small, dilapidated cottage in the forest. Dream, Sapnap and George had been using it to research how the egg works, and if you can save someone from it’s possession.

“Yeah.” Sapnap help’s Dream up, carrying the seventeen year old to the cottage. “I suppose we have to.”

“The ends will justify the means.” Dream promises. “We’ll be forgiven. Promise.”

---

“Dream?” Puffy can hear Foolish on the phone, trying to call his brother. “Please pick up. We’re not mad at you. Please just come home.”

Puffy can hear Foolish sigh as the phone hangs up, and Schlatt rubs her back supportively. Eret gives Foolish a hug, and Sam contacts the SMP, trying to see if there’s been any sightings of the three missing teens.

“You’ve reached Dream Taken, if you’re my Mum I’m sorry for being late home, I’ll be home soon, if you aren’t my Mum leave a message. Call you back soon!” The automated response hasn’t changed, but Puffy sobs quietly as she hears her sons voice.

“Please, Dream. Come home.” She begs, tears rolling down her face. “Or at least call me back.”

---

People scream in the streets below, Sapnap and Dream razing the city to the ground. The red vines that crept up the buildings wither and decay under the fire, and the pair of them laugh. They’re saving the city, one contained fire at a time.

Those people were probably possessed anyways. They would have died eventually, the so called “heroes” have no morals. Not like Dream and Sapnap and George. At least these three are trying to cure them.

“Stop!” Dread fill’s Dream and Sapnap’s chests as they hear Puffy yell after them. “You are under arrest for arson and-”

“We won’t be going with you.” Dream says, spinning around. He stands protectively in front of Sapnap. “Sorry, Mum, but we’re busy trying to save the cuty.”

“Dream.” He hears Puff gasp, her hands over her mouth. “You’re alive.”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” He growls, taking out a sword.

“Miss Puffy, please. You could join us.” Sapnap offers, his hand on Dream’s arm, calming the other teen. “We’re trying to cure the egg!”

Dream and Puffy both wince, hearing the smile on Sapnap’s voice. That naive, hopeful, pathetic smile that screams ‘we’re doing the right thing’.

“Sap,” Puffy begins, nervously, “Burning the buildings and killing people won’t save anyone.”

“The ends justify the means.” Dream snap, before Sapnap can change his mind. “Are you with us, or are you going to kill us.”

It’s not a question.

“I can’t agree with this.” Puffy says. “But I could never hurt you.”

“You killed my father.” Dream snaps, glaring at the woman he once called mother. “You’ve already broken me beyond repair.”

---

Puffy sits in the hospital bed, staring out of the window. She wasn’t able to fight them, how could she? She raised Dream since he was nine, and she was ‘aunt Puffy’ to Sapnap since he was a baby. How could she hurt these kids she swore to protect, to keep safe?

Foolish sleeps on the chair besides her bed, Eret sleeping on the floor besides him. The pair refused to leave after visiting hours, and Puffy said that it was alright for them to spend the night. How could she send out her son, and the child she considers family?

She stares out the window, watching the sky turn from a dark indigo to a bright orange. Tears drip down her face as phantom fire races up her arms, and she remembers. She doesn’t know why she remembers this poem, this miserable sad poem that she hadn’t thought of since she dropped out of highschool to persue full time heroism.

The notion of some infinitely gentle, infinitely suffering thing.

If that didn’t describe her family, she doesn’t know what does.

#powers au #captain puffy #dream #foolishgamers #jschlatt #sapnap #eret #awesamdude #my writing

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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 10 - Of convenient interruptions and deceiving magpies

series masterlist

warnings: angst, mention of food and eating

word count: 2856

tags: @gloryekaterina ; @thatguppienamedbae ; @sagittarius-flowerchild ; @scoobiessnacks ; @pandaxnienke ; @harrysweasleys ; @ickle-ronniekins ; @hufflepuff5972 ; @izzyyy-1 ; @amourtentiaa ; @thisismynerdyself ; @hufflepuffalice ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss ; @lumos-barnes ; @weasleygrapes ; @famdomhideout ; @mollenniumfalcon ; @accioweaslcy ; @whizboyhalo ;

—————⑩—————

January rolled around, bringing the new term with it. With a few months left until the N.E.W.T.s, the professors were nagging the seventh years only ever so slightly more.

So you settled back into your routine – classes, studying with occasional breaks to hang out with your mates. Schoolwork-free evenings spent in the common room or the D.A. meetings that resumed after winter break – those were your treats.

In one of your attempts to socialize whilst getting some revising done, you found yourself sitting by one of the more secluded tables in the library, as to avoid getting on Madam Pince’s nerves too much, with Hermione, Ginny and – Loony Lovegood.

The girl was alright, apart from being blunt and not adhering to some social norms in situations where it really couldn’t hurt – you thought. But there was just something about her that made you uneasy when she was around…

To be fair, you hardly ever studied during those studying sessions with Ginny and Hermione. And today was not that bad – your chat was pretty ‘normal’, Ginny was complaining about her boyfriend – Michael’s recent behaviour.

“Why do I even bother with guys anymore..?” she asked rhetorically, lying down on the table, on top of forgotten books and untouched parchment. “That’s a bit dramatic,” Hermione chuckled sympathetically. “Yeah, yeah… but look at Y/N, she doesn’t care about stupid boys and she’s doing just fine,” Ginny commented and you involuntarily let out a loud, high-pitched laugh, thinking about how fine you were doing, making all of them look at you.

You instantly composed yourself, clearing your throat – they didn’t know. Or at least that’s what you thought.

Luna appeared to be intrigued, Ginny was clearly confused and looked at you with amusement, but Hermione – she had a meaningful look about her and you wouldn’t be surprised, she was good at observing people – she knew.

“Oh no,” you let out as you looked at her and your face fell. It was awkward. “You know.” “I don’t know,” she countered very quickly. “Oh, I think you do-“

“Wait, wait, wait, what’s going on,” Ginny followed rapidly, the words melting into one. Hermione looked down onto the table, unsure what to do and you felt your insides turn. You had not prepared yourself mentally for Ginny to know yet – you just had a bad feeling she wouldn’t like the fact that you fancy one of her brothers. Over the years she had mentioned on multiple occasions how she likes you being Fred and George’s mate.

It’s over – you though – cat’s out of the bag. You glanced at Luna, trying to estimate just how uncomfortable confessing in her presence would make you.

“Y/N’s in love with George..!” Hermione blurted out, covering her mouth right after. “I’m sorry, I can’t deal with situations like that!” she hasted to explain herself when you glared at her accusingly.

“Ginny’s brother?” Luna asked airily.

“Aaaaw…” Ginny moaned in disappointment as if she just dropped a scoop of ice-cream. Though her facial expression was mixed, a grimace with a small smile.

You smiled at her awkwardly and shrugged, but no one said anything else.

You sat in this awkward silence as Ginny watched you with the same, unreadable expression. Luna got back to reading her book, and Hermione pretended to, while biting her lips harshly. You didn’t know where to look, or if you should say something else. When no words seemed fitting, you just fiddled with your fingers and the edge of your notebook page.

“Alright, that’s… that’s good, actually. I prefer for you to date him than anyone else. I wouldn’t want him to end up with some bimbo,” Ginny announced after what seemed like hours, with fake seriousness on her face, then smiled at you cheekily.

“Thanks, Gin,” you breathed out, the word ‘date’ echoing in your mind. Dating seemed so, so remote to you at that very moment. You were glad not to have had added more obstacles to your already tricky path, though.

After leaving the library you made your way to the Great Hall and parted ways. Without much thought, you took an empty spot next to George. You shot him a small smile as a greeting, but he looked distracted. He didn’t talk to you – he wasn’t even talking to Fred, who was discussing the future of the new Gryffindor quidditch team on his other side.

You got a bit worried, nevertheless, you were hoping you were just exaggerating - maybe he was tired. And if anything was actually wrong, he’d tell you when he’d feel ready.

“Pumpkin juice?” you asked, hovering the pitcher above his empty goblet. He nodded, then thanked you when you poured him the juice.

Throughout the meal, you tried to make a conversation, ask about his day and tell him about yours. Whatever his behaviour was, it probably had nothing to do with you, because he spoke normally and wasn’t shutting you down.

When you left the hall, the crowd seemed especially dense, you and George got separated from Fred and Lee and you noticed that when you walked an empty corridor on your way to the common room.

You were close to your destination, you could see the Fat Lady in the distance when George stopped hesitantly. He had his hands in his pockets and he looked around, anywhere but at you. This unusual behaviour made you uneasy.

When he finally looked at you, he spoke, “Y/N,” then crossed his arms on his chest, then turned his eyes back towards the stone floor. “…I’ve been meaning to ask you something, when we’re alone, for a while…” he continued, making your blood run cold. “…What is it?” you asked, doing your best to sound normal.

“You know, you’ve been… you’ve been behaving a bit-“ he bit his lip, looking for the right word, “differently, lately.”

You swallowed thickly, your hands started to tingle and your mind was going a hundred miles per hour. There were countless possibilities as to why he could be asking that question, was it the one you were expecting the most? The one that would expose you?

“Have I?” you continued your act, failing miserably. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was not warm or cheerful like you were most used to, but it wasn’t cold or accusing either. You were at a loss, trying to decipher what was going through his mind.

“Yeah, for some time now,” he answered, nodding slowly.

This did not give you any more information you needed desperately to play this right. You were thinking hard about what to say next, when the portrait of the Fat Lady opened, revealing Lee.

Upon noticing the two of you, Lee beamed right away, clearly not having read into the situation.

“Oi, have you seen what’s happening in the entrance courtyard right now?!” he shouted. “No, why?” George replied, not matching Lee’s enthusiasm. “Come on, everyone’s gathering there!!”

Lee’s appearance cut the topic off completely. The air between the two of you was awkward for the rest of the day but neither one mentioned it again. And the next day, it was like the conversation never happened.

At least formally – it has planted even more questions into your mind.

—————⑩—————

“Just remember, the memory must really be powerful and you have to focus!” Harry explained to the group standing in front of him.

You stood next to him, a bit to the side – he asked you to help out with the teaching side a bit that evening, seeing as you’d be working on Patronuses – a spell you had mastered a couple of years before.

“Could we see it again?” asked Colin Creevey, hoping Harry would show off his own Patronus once more. Harry turned to you instead, “Y/N..?” – waking you up.

Put on the spot, you felt a rush of nerves but tried to push them back. You took a deep breath and recalled your go-to memory of a sunny day, three years prior, when George came along with you on a weekend trip to your grandparents across the country.

You woke up with a rush of adrenaline that day. At the breakfast table you kept glancing at the clock on the wall, dreading that no matter how fast you’d finish your toast, you couldn’t be there to pick up George earlier than 8 AM.

It felt weird to depart without Fred, but you couldn’t have expected him to turn his aunt Muriel’s bag invisible, resulting in him being grounded. You didn’t want to be glad he wasn’t there, but the trip with just you and George was something truly unforgettable.

While your grandparents’ place wasn’t anything extraordinary in itself, unlike at your home at the Burrow, the two of you were left to your own device.

Just you, George, sunny weather and the call of adventure.

The memory’s energy filled you to the brim, with full confidence you said “Expecto Patronum!”, excited to see the familiar shape of a feisty wivern.

What you saw when you looked up shocked you – a small bird fluttering its wings above everyone’s heads. Your mouth fell open slightly as you stared at it, the bird perched itself on one of the bookshelves on the side of the room.

The group didn’t notice your shock however, they didn’t know your Patronus’ form, they were in awe of the small animal’s beauty. Everyone – except for two people you had shown your Patronus before.

Of course, you showed off to Fred and George almost right after learning that spell. Which is exactly why they both looked puzzled as well.

“Alright, I think we can get to practice now!” exclaimed Harry, the group scurried and the bird turned into mist, then disappeared.

You tried your best not to dwell on that mystery just yet, but actually try helping others out. Which is why you didn’t stick around Fred and George for too long, afraid that one of them might want to discuss it.

That was until, after many tries, close to the end of the meeting, after succeeding in making a shield form - George’s corporeal Patronus appeared. It was incredible.

“A magpie…” you whispered to yourself underneath your breath, covering your mouth with your hand. A magpie, just like yours, flying in circles above Fred and George.

George stared at it in shock, at a loss of words at first, then a relieved smile started to show on his face.

But then Fred, in a rush of excitement, succeeded as well - his Patronus appearing as a magpie, too.

George’s face fell, and his bird vanished. But you weren’t paying attention anymore.

On your way back to the common room you stuck to Fred, George and Lee, mostly because it was just a custom. The atmosphere was strange the whole way.

You felt tense, you avoided looking at George, afraid it might prompt him to speak to you. You were sure he had figured it all out by now, and you did not want to hear the words of rejection.

After all – if he had felt the same, surely he would’ve reacted more strongly, come up to you right away and confess too – daydreams.

Instead, he was walking a distance from you with a stone face, his hands in his pockets. Fred was walking in the middle, dividing you two – a casual, content expression on his face.

When you got into the common room, most of the D.A. members went upstairs to their respective dorms. You didn’t miss how George sped up in front f Fred and went up - two steps at a time. You collapsed on the sofa, not seeing the point of going about your day at that very moment. You felt crushed.

Just as the last students were leaving, Fred came back downstairs, on his own this time. He was just looking for something to do when he saw you.

He made himself comfortable in the armchair directly opposite you and looked at you expectantly with a smirk.

“You’re alone?” you asked quietly, thinking it was the least invasive way to ask for the information you truly wanted. Fred understood. “I don’t know what his deal is, he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me,” he answered simply. “He’ll sort himself out.”

When you didn’t say anything for a few seconds more, he took it upon himself.

“Soo – you wanna tell me what that was about?” Fred asked the question you expected from the very start. If you were him, you’d probably have asked too, out of sheer curiosity. You took a moment to think, but he was impatient – “the whole Patronus thing – as far as I know, it doesn’t just change on a whim… and a very interesting new form, indeed,” he got to the bottom of the case.

You wanted to tell Fred, you really did. You saw no point in denying it and just making yourself look stupid. He was your friend after all, and even though you had not thought about it, you have gotten even closer lately. Maybe partly because of how things with George changed, or maybe because you’ve all grown.

Fred truly felt like a brother, even if he could be a major prat, he was actually more like a brother to you than George ever was.

The only problem for you was how impartial would he remain? The last thing you wanted was anyone meddling with the situation between you and George – even his twin brother. And it would be hard for Fred not to, but you’d just have to trust him to see what’s right.

“Alright, but you have to promise me something. Everything stays between us, and whatever you do – don’t interfere, please.”

Fred sighed and his smirk got replaced with a kind smile. He got up and sat next to you on the sofa, laying his arm on the backrest. “Alright, promise. I’m listening.”

But where should you start? It felt weird all of a sudden, you’d never discussed your love life with Fred, and admitting to being in love with his brother felt even stranger.

You decided to start as simply as possible.

“I don’t really get it either. You know George and I have been close since we met, I’ve always loved him as a friend, and really didn’t see him that way before…” you spoke as quiet as possible, knowing how the sound could travel in the silence of the common room. You avoided looking at Fred and played with your hands in your lap, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, continuing – “A while ago, sometime in November, it… just changed.”

Fred hasn’t replied right away, and you kept your face down. “I love him,” you whispered, bowing your head even lower to hide your face. “Idiotically much.”

When you finally looked up, Fred was leaning his chin on his arm, on the back of the sofa, thinking.

“And how have you not told him yet?” he asked after a few seconds. “It’s not that simple. And I had a lot to figure out.” “I know, but I don’t get how you can spend so much time with someone you fancy and not snap- and just tell them,” he reasoned, looking at you. It actually made you quite happy - that meant you got to the Fred you wanted, he wasn’t judging you or wanted to tease you, but was trying to really understand and have a conversation. “Maybe…” you mumbled. “And if you’re wondering if I’m gonna tell you he’s in love with you too in a second, then I can tell you right away, that I don’t know. We don’t really talk about stuff like that.” “Better that way,” you pointed out, “I really prefer you impartial.” “Impartial’s a bit much-“ “Regardless, I don’t think he does,” you admitted, seriously. “He said a few days ago that he noticed me acting differently and the whole thing was really strange, but we never spoke about it again. And now today – there is no way he hasn’t figured it out and you saw how he’s acting… He’s probably upset right now because he doesn’t feel the same and knows we can’t be friends like before.”

There was another moment of silence and Fred was about to say something, when the two of you heard a door close loudly in one of the staircases, then a pair of footsteps travelling down from the boys’ dorms.

You automatically turned that way to look and saw George step in, with a neutral expression. He looked at the sofa, then quickly looked around the otherwise empty common room. He glanced at his feet for a second and in the semi-darkness, it looked like he scoffed, then back at you and Fred, with a look in his eye you’ve never seen before. It was hurt.

“Done brooding?” Fred asked, probably as an attempt to lighten the mood, but George turned around without a word and stormed back up.

“He hates me,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, feeling tears reaching your eyes, and your whole world falling apart around you.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley series

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dyde21 · 4 years ago

Text

Learning - 1

Also available on AO3 HERE

Summary:

Peter Parker has a lot on his plate. Too much. He's also just so damn tired all the time. But people are counting on him. Counting on Spider-man. So he can't afford to slow down. He just has to keep moving forward.

Until everything falls apart because of a pancake.

Luckily there are people there to help pick up the pieces.

Peter learns how to accept help and how to grow.

XxXxXxXxX

Peter Parker was pretty sure his biggest enemy was Spider-man. Spider-man meant the world to him, and he really wasn’t sure he’d ever find himself in a place to give up the mantle. Maybe if he found someone to take over for him, or if the city didn’t need him anymore, he could afford to slow down.

But as he grew into a young adult, he knew that it wasn’t a possibility for him anytime soon. His mind and body yearned to be out there when he had gone too long without saving someone. He could just imagine the scenes of the people he didn’t save when he wasn’t out there. The lives lost or ruined because he was not out there.

As much as he knew he had to be Spider-man, there was still a part of him that yearned to be a normal college student. Someone who could have weekend movie nights with his friends after long hours doing homework together. Someone who could drop by his aunt’s place and cook dinner with her to catch up after a busy week. Someone who could plan a date night weeks in advance and know for sure that he wouldn’t miss it or bail early. But he had resigned himself to the fact that he couldn’t have that.

He hated how much he hurt others. He hated the disappointed, yet understanding looks his friends gave him everytime he had to leave early or show up late. He hated how he had lately stopped making promises because he longer believed he could keep them. So he had to make it up to them. He tried desperately to prove how much he cared about them every chance he got. Little gifts, reminders of conversations, jumping at the chance to do anything in the moment while he was at their side. He dreaded the day they realized he wasn’t worth all the trouble, he knew it had to be coming soon. But he could feel his life falling apart at the seams.

But Spider-man wouldn’t. Spider-man wouldn’t disappoint the city. Even when they hated them, he’d still be out there protecting it. Because people needed Spider-man. People needed Peter. He had to live up to those responsibilities.

However Peter felt so tired. He could feel himself running on fumes, but he’d manage. He always did. He always had to.

Until suddenly he couldn’t. Until Peter broke.

It hadn’t even been a dramatic fight with someone like the Rhino. It hadn’t been an explosive alien bomb he couldn’t deal with. It had been a pancake.

Midterms sucked for everyone. Normal students and superhero students alike, they just sucked. A week of projects and tests and papers that were all due around the same time. It was a cruel seasonal rite of passage. Unfortunately combining that with having missed almost the maximum number of classes allowed in the term already, Peter was behind. But that wasn’t anything new.

But the same old problem was still a problem. Which meant that was how Peter found himself on Saturday morning stopping by the corner store and grabbing a six pack of energy drinks, a couple of cups of noodles, and some chocolate for comfort’s sake.

He had a long weekend ahead of him, and he knew he just had to get through it. Maybe he could take it a little easier. Pausing before the counter, he had walked back and grabbed a couple of bags of Ned’s favorite sour worms. He knew Ned liked to snack on them when he got stressed and he knew there was a coding midterm Ned had been stressing about all week.

After he paid, he made sure to take the long way around and stopped by MJ’s favorite tea place. Filling up a thermos, he had also splurged to get her a few boxes of the teas they imported there from fairly traded farmers abroad. MJ had done research into the brand and found they were providing a good opportunity, and she liked the tea so it had been a win-win. Sure it had cost him a bit more, but he figured he could just cut back on his meals for a week, no biggie. The protein bars Bruce had made for him ensured he got the vitamins he needed, so he figured it’d be fine.

Swinging by MJ’s place, he felt a small surge of energy in his otherwise exhausted body. He loved seeing her, and he knew she tended to isolate herself when going into heavy work mode, so their interaction would be brief but if he could make her smile it would be worth it. He knew things were still a little tense after he had been forced to bail on their anniversary dinner because Rhino had decided to go on a rampage to ruin his love life. He really, really wanted to stay. He had even promised himself he wouldn’t let normal crime alerts stop him, but the Rhino was more than the police could handle. One masked crazy required another. He had even been trying to force himself to stay when she had grabbed his hand, and with that same sad smile told him to go.

Making his way up to her small studio apartment she shared with Gwen, he had knocked on their door, shifting from place to place. Should he have grabbed flowers? Maybe that would be too much. Also too expensive. Should he have picked some? He knew MJ liked to complain about cliches like that, but also knew she liked them more than she would admit, considering he had seen the handmade card he had crafted her on valentine's day at Pepper’s advice was still on her desk months later. Shoul-

He was cut off from his internal rambling by the door being opened up. An exhausted, weary looking MJ stared at him, in open confusion. Normally she’d be better about putting on some sort of mask, but he could tell she was pretty tired too. She was dressed in sweats and one of his hoodies she had stolen when she came over the night before their anniversary.

A range of emotions crossed her face. Surprised. Guarded. Frustrated. Concerned. Happy.

“Hi.” She said simply after a moment, clearly waiting for him to say something.

“U-uh hi. Yeah. I just…” He realized he really should have thought of what he wanted to say before showing up.

MJ raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “I’m kinda busy.” She said, before she winced. He had a feeling she was still a little hurt about their date, but also hadn’t meant to sound so cold to him. He couldn’t blame her. He deserved it.

“Right! I know.” He cleared his throat. “I know. I promise I’m not here to bother you. I just… here.” He said, handing her the thermos. She took it, surprised before she took a sip and a smile crossed her features. Peter’s heart melted a little at it. He also shoved the two boxes of her favorite tea into her arms. “Also these. And an apology. I’m really sorry. I know I say that a lot. And it sucks. But I am.” He said, his eyes drifting to the floor. He hated how familiar this felt.

“I know.” MJ said softly, before he saw her feet step forward, and he felt her tip his chin up as she kissed him gently.

Peter returned it for a moment before he stepped back. “I know you have work so I won’t distract you. I just… wanted to give you a little care package, and say I know you’ll rock this. I can proofread your article if you need me to too. Or just to get an opinion.”

MJ’s expression softened again. “Thanks, Tiger.” She said, a soft smile. Then her brow furrowed. “Are you okay though?” She said, reaching out to grab his jaw and turn it as she inspected him. “Have you been eating? Sleeping? You look like shit.” She said bluntly, but not uncaringly.

“Oh, ouch.” He said with mock affront. MJ just rolled her eyes, knowing he knew what she meant. “Midterms.” Peter brushed off her concerns with a shrug. “Happens to us all. I mean you always look beautiful. But you also look a little less beautiful. Only stunningly gorgeous today.” He offered a small smirk on his face.

MJ rolled her eyes again, shoving his shoulder weakly. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to make myself look nice hoping you’d drop by unannounced.” She replied in a dry tone. “But Gwen and I are making sure we take care of each other. You’re still living alone since Ned moved in with Betty. I’m worried.” She confessed.

Peter offered her what he hoped was a reassuringly and not as fake looking as it felt smile. “I’ll be fine. Just gotta get a lot done this weekend. Then I’ll rest next week sometime. Maybe we can have a night in, no suit, no alerts.” He offered.

MJ looked at him skeptically, like she knew that was an offer that probably couldn’t be kept. But she must have also seen how desperately he was hoping for her to say yes. Some little hope to hold onto to get through the weekend. She nodded.

“Yeah. Sounds nice. I’d like that.” She affirmed, leaning in for another quick kiss. She paused, pulling out the collar of his sweater. “Pete, you need to eat. You’re losing weight again.” She warned, seeing how pronounced his collarbones were starting to be again.

He stepped back, pulling it back. “I will! I bought stuff today.” He didn’t mention it had been energy drinks, sugar, and salt pretty much but he didn’t need to worry her anymore. “I can’t wait to read your article. You better send it to me!” He said as he started down the hallway before he could drag any more of MJ’s attention away from her work with concern for him. He didn’t need it. He’d be fine.

MJ just watched him leave, sipping her drink for a moment before she let her head slump against the doorframe with a sigh. A bad feeling welling up in her stomach.

Peter’s next stop had been over to Ned’s place.

When he knocked at the door, he figured MJ must have texted him because Ned didn’t seem surprised in the least.

“Hey Peter, come in for a sec.” He said, practically dragging him into the apartment. Peter was surprised by that, having planned to just make the drop and leave, but he was herded over to a stool at the counter and forced to sit on it as he fished out the gummies to give to Ned.

“Here man, I know you still have to finish up the code then work out the bugs in it. I brought you emergency rations.”

Ned gave him a quick side hug, taking them. “Thanks. Now eat.” He ordered as he deposited the gift as his computer.

Peter was confused until a sandwich slid in front of him, along with a drink and a cookie. He looked up, seeing Betty looking at him with an expectant look. It reminded him of MJ. He had a feeling they had been hanging out a lot more recently.

“I’m fine.” He offered weakly, feeling bad they were taking time to take care of him.

Ned crossed his arms, giving him a thoroughly unimpressed look he had honed over years of dealing with Peter’s bullshit. “Dude, you look even more barebones than usual, don’t think a baggy sweater hides that. MJ said you are doing your gift rounds too which means you’re stressed out because you picked that up from Tony too.” Ned laid out, honest. “Eat the damn sandwich.”

Betty was side-eyeing Ned like she didn’t agree that the best way to get Peter to eat was to snap at him, but Peter just sighed and took a bite of the sandwich. It tasted so good he wanted to cry. He almost did, but he busied himself with taking a bite of the cookie before he could lose his shit over a sandwich someone made for him and start up a whole new series of conversations he wasn’t ready for.

He devoured the sandwich probably too quickly because Betty looked like she was about to make another one just to keep him eating. But he forced himself to stand up. “Thank you. Really. I needed that.” He confessed. “But we both have work so I should get back.”

“It’s fine if you want to relax here for a moment.” Betty offered with a gentle smile.

Peter’s throat felt tight at the nice offer but shook his head. “N-no. I’m fine. Both of you have work to do too. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Pete…” Ned started but Peter just fist bumped him and left, laughing a bit too hysterically for it to seem natural.

“I’ll be fine man! We’ll catch up next week.” He promised as he quickly made his way out of the apartment. He felt like he was about to start crying for too many different reasons and wanted to be alone for it.

He heard them still calling after him as the door closed and he practically rushed down the hall. He just had to get home. He could be alone in his home.

By the time he got home, Peter had managed to get himself in control. AKA, shoving all his annoying emotions and impending breakdowns deep within him to deal with at a later time. He had studying to do now, he didn’t have time for pesky things like proper emotions.

Pulling out the first energy drink, Peter just leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. He’d be fine. He just had to get through this weekend and he could afford a little rest. He made a point not to think of how he had made that promise the previous weekend as well.

Pulling out his phone, he found the photo he was looking for and smiled for a moment. It was a selfie of him and MJ. MJ was standing in the suit after she had wanted to try it on one night, and he was kissing her cheek as she was mid laugh. He could do it for her.

Moving over to his small kitchen table, he cleared everything off it by piling it onto the counter haphazardly and set up his laptop and books. He glanced over at the stacks of dirty dishes with a frown. He had gotten a lot worse at keeping them clean since Ned moved out. Looking around, he saw the entire place had kind of gone to shit since Ned moved out. Stuff piled up everywhere, too much dirty laundry, a bag of trash he hadn’t taken out yet tied in the corner.

Normally he went over to MJ’s place since Gwen had done a good job with the interior design of it and it was spacious and well organized. He did his best to hide how bad his place looked, too ashamed.

Pushing down more thoughts of how much of a disappointment he was for failing to keep his apartment together he sat down at the computer as he took another sip of his energy drink. He just had to get through this.

Pulling up his assignments he began to try and organize them. Working was something he could do. Solving problems was something he was good at.

A few hours passed and Peter had actually managed to make quite a bit of progress on his assignments. Which was good. Figuring he needed a break, he got up and moved over to the ramen. His stomach was angry now, and wanted a proper meal but he didn’t exactly have enough money at the moment to splurge. He was tempted to swing by the Avenger’s tower to grab a meal there, but he knew they might get on his case if they saw him looking this rundown. Turning on the electric kettle, he turned on some music to listen to it while he waited, closing his eyes to take a moment to relax.

It was a playlist MJ had made for him, and he knew all the songs by heart now, including the order of them. It helped him relax. Singing along softly, he waited for the kettle to click off as he poured it into the cup of noodle, pleased his hands weren’t shaking. Going into the drawer, he paused as he saw he had no clean forks. Of course he didn’t, cause he was a fucking mess.

He bit his lip, hating that a tear escaped his eyes as he trudged ever to the sink and quickly washed one as he blinked away the burning sensation in his eyes. This was dumb. It was just a fork. He just had to do the dishes. Eventually.

Finally cleaning the fork, he set it on top of the cup as it heated up the noodles and just slumped into his seat, letting his head fall against the table. He was just so tired. He had time to kill until the noodles were cooked enough so he could close his eyes for a minute…

Peter stared in horror as MJ struggled to pry herself from the metal gauntlet wrapped around her neck. Her feet dangled helplessly over the edge.

“Pe… peter. Help.” She choked out.

“LET HER GO.” Peter tried to scream out but no words would escape him. Iron Man’s cold eyes stared at him.

“You were a mistake.” He said in an emotional robotic voice as the hand opened up.

Peter ran towards her, but as he stepped the suit around him dissolved, leaving him in his old homemade suit, and none of his tools. Desperate anyway, he jumped off the edge, trying to dive for MJ but she was falling too fast for him. He couldn’t make it in ti-

Peter woke with a start, knocking one of his textbooks off the table as he looked around. It was darker. With a groan, he checked the clock. 3 hours had passed. Great. Guess that would be enough sleep for the night. Glancing at his phone he saw some messages from MJ and Ned but he really couldn’t bring himself to respond to them at the moment.

Wiping sleep from his eyes, he hated how he had slept for three hours he didn’t plan to, but still felt exhausted. Nightmares sucked.

Walking over to his noodles, he peeled off the lid and stared down at them. They were super soggy now. Peter was pretty sure he’d be more disappointed if he had the energy to be. Instead he just moved back over to the table, and flipped open his textbook to the section he had to go over again for the test because he had missed that class after a big fight and getting too injured to go in for it.

He slowly ate his soggy noodles as he stared at the same passage, reading it a few times but not really absorbing it. By the time he had actually managed to process all the content on the page, he felt his fork scraping against the bottom of the now empty cup. Great.

Setting it down on the table he just leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. Where was his life even going now? Why the hell was MJ even with him?

He checked his messages finally, both of his friends checking on him. He sent them a generic assurance before he sighed. Forcing himself to his feet, he figured he needed to make himself useful. He quickly changed into his suit as he saw the sun starting to set outside. He knew he couldn’t afford to spend too much time out as Spider-man tonight, and probably none tomorrow so he figured he would make it count while he could.

As he warmed up and swung through the city, for the briefest moment it felt like he was able to forget his problems. Like his real life was hidden away back in his nest of an apartment, and out here he was just Spider-man. The hero with no obligations, able to save people and bring a smile to those who didn’t despite him.

The rush was almost enough for him to avoid the bone deep exhaustion creeping through his body. He managed to stop a few robberies, a carjacking, and helped a drunk person find their way home without much issue. It helped his mood a bit, feeling useful. Feeling like he was actually able to take control of things and do some good.

What didn’t feel good though was seeing Rhino rampaging down the street. His shoulders slumped, he was not in the mood to deal with him today. He still had homework.

Swinging down, he caught a car that had been knocked to the side, and set it down with a grunt of effort. Normally he didn’t have that much trouble lifting one, so that was probably a troubling sign. Still, he swung after the large man.

“Didn’t I put you away like last week? Where are they even sending you, juvie?” He complained as he dodged a few punches from the overzealous russian.

“No cage can hold the Rhino!” He called out in return, making Peter sigh.

“Apparently.” He muttered as he launched himself towards him, slamming his fist into Rhino’s chest with enough force to send him toppling backwards. His hand was sore now, but he really wanted to end this quickly and he knew Rhino was tough enough for him to be a little less gentle.

The Rhino got back up and threw a car at him. Peter managed to catch it, but it left him in an awkward position as the Rhino charged through it, sending him flying into the wall of a nearby hotel. He gasped in pain, and barely had the reflexes to shoot his hands out and catch Rhino’s horn before it impaled him into the building. Slamming a kick into the Rhino’s jaw, he dazed him enough to push off of him and get some distance between them.

“I think I’m sending you to the zoo next. I hear they love to take in hopeless cases.” Some part of Peter wondered if he qualified for that.

“The only place I will be going is to your funeral, Spider-man!” Alexios roared out as he charged forward.

Peter just managed to dodge to the side and hook a web onto one of his legs, pulling it into the other one as the man fell over.

“Aw, you’d attend my funeral? You do care!” He praised as he launched himself up, before twipping two webs on either side of the Rhino and pulled himself down, slamming his knee into the back of the Rhino’s head with enough force to finally knock the man out.

Before long the familiar sirens showed up as the police must have realized it was safe for them to come detain him to pass him off to the proper authorities for enhanced individuals. Peter loitered for just a minute to make sure the Rhino didn’t get back up.

“Hello Animal Control. I’m afraid this guy is a little jumpy.” He offered with a wave, still standing on the Rhino’s back.

“Spider-man! You’re under arrest for property destruction and inciting violence.” They said as they raised their guns at him.

Peter’s hand dropped to his side. “Really?” He said in a flat tone. He just took down the criminal they couldn’t keep behind bars for a month, and they’re trying to arrest him.

With a sigh, Peter quickly hopped to the side in a flip, landing on the wall before launching off and dodging a few rubber bullets that had been shot his way. At least they weren’t trying to kill him this time. He quickly swung off into the distance, until the sirens were far out of earshot as he landed on a roof, leaning against the wall. He held his side, wincing as he could tell a few of his ribs were definitely bruised after the entire fight. Great. Just what he needed when studying.

Asking Karen for the time, he saw a couple hours had passed. With a sigh, he made a few more laps as he headed back to his apartment, climbing in and stepping out of his suit.

He made his way over to the bathroom, wincing as he saw his entire side was pretty much one giant bruise. Treating the basic cuts he could and doing other basic first aid, he slumped his way over to the table. His entire body ached, and he wanted to just curl up and sleep but he still had an essay to finish and two tests to study for. Sleep was just one of the many luxuries (and necessities) he couldn’t afford at the moment.

Opening another energy drink, he chugged it quickly and tried to power through some more work. If he could at least finish the essay he might be able to BS his way through the tests. So he started writing. He was pretty sure there were more spelling mistakes than were reasonable for a college student. But he kinda sorta had an outline. At least something he could work from.

Leaning back in his chair, he immediately winced and regretted his decision and he leaned forward again. Stretching wasn’t a good idea with his bruises. He also noticed his bruises were barely healing, which was worrying. But something he’d just have to deal with next week. If it didn’t heal by Monday he could deal with some strange looks for showing up bruised, it wouldn’t be the first time.

His phone buzzed and he saw a message from MJ.

Saw the alert. You okay?

Peter sighed. MJ stayed very up to date on any spidey news, so she pretty much knew every time he was out patrolling cause at least someone would report it on a fan site. Or the news if that battle was big enough like the Rhino.

I’m fine. Nothing broken this time. Promise. Which was true.

You better not be lying. Wanna read my article? Are you caught up on midterms?

Peter glanced over at the laptop with the barebones of an outline on it, and the two textbooks only halfway read on the table.

Yeah, doing surprisingly well. I can use a break. Send it over.

Thanks, Tiger.

Peter grinned down at the screen, and opened up his email, waiting for the notification. A moment later it popped up.

Here’s the essay. Lemme know your thoughts. Make sure you drink water tonight, and go shower. I know you’re lazy about it after patrol.

Peter rolled his eyes, but listened to her. He quickly hopped in the shower and changed into his last clean set of clothes before he got some water to sip along with his energy drink as he started reading her article.

Peter loved MJ’s writing. She was clear, concise, and he could practically hear her personality in the words. No matter what the subject was, he found himself enamored with reading what she wrote. She treated the reader with respect, and always offered a fair balancing of views on the issue, while not being afraid to make assertions that might make her a little less than popular at times.

Still, she was trusting him to offer proper feedback so he did his best to put aside his feelings for the author and focus on what he was reading. He noticed a few instances of some premises she presented as true without supporting them that he drew attention to, a few grammar mistakes, and one part that felt so clunky he had to read it a few times and he was still a little unsure just what she was saying.

Peter knew she’d rather he was honest and straight forward, while still polite about any potential issues in her article than hold back on his critique in order to be nice. She’d actually be pissed at him if he held back, so he stayed honest.

Sending the article back to her after double checking his own work, he leans back and looks at the clock on his wall. 2 am. He frowned slightly, but pulled over his text book. He was tired of writing for the moment so he started to read, doing his best to stay focused despite his creeping exhaustion. He normally likes to nap after a patrol but he had too much work to do.

A couple of minutes later when he was about half way through his third energy drink, he got a notification from MJ.

Thanks Tiger, you’re the best. You actually made good points, I’m impressed. Need me to check over your essay?

Peter frowned, looking at the outline he hadn’t touched in a couple of hours and still had no desire to work on.

It still needs some work before I can show it to anyone. I’m good, thanks though. Love you.

Love you too. Get some sleep, okay? I know the Rhino is annoying and I saw you get hit with that car. I can help you study tomorrow so get some sleep.

Peter smiled at her concern. He swore she knew him almost better than he did, as she was determined to keep him alive and she decided that meant knowing what kind of threats he would find himself up against.

You still have studying to do too, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. He replied as he glanced around his apartment. It was a mess, and he knew she’d yell at him if she saw the state he was living in lately. He wanted to live better than this but he was just so tired.

She didn’t respond, so he figured she had fallen asleep like a normal human would.

With a sigh, Peter downed the rest of the energy drink and splashed some water on his face. He had to get through this. He pointedly ignored the bruise that was looking worse and worse as he moved his textbook and notes to the couch to be a little more comfy than the old wooden chair at his table and laid down to read it, turning on the TV on low for some noise to distract him. He just had to keep working, he could do this.

Cracking open his fourth energy drink, he set it on the table and set to work.

By the time his phone showed four, his eyes felt incredibly heavy. Even the energy drink he had just finished seemed to have been doing nothing more to his system. Leaning his head back against the pillow, he let out a sigh. “Fuck.” he mumbled to himself. He still had another day of cramming to get through.

He managed to force another hour of studying out of him, enough to finish off the first book before he gave up. Setting about 12 alarms, he set them for 8 am, figuring three hours would be enough to kickstart his system into functioning again to get through tomorrow.

He laid his head back against the pillow and within seconds he was out cold.

Peter woke up to about the fifth alarm on his phone as he groaned and reached for it, his textbook sliding off his lap as he managed to find the phone and shut off all the alarms. Somehow he almost felt worse than when he went to bed.

Forcing himself to his feet, he only staggered a few steps before he had managed to regain his balance. He felt like death and he stumbled over to his bathroom. Brushing his teeth, he winced as he saw the side of his neck still showed a heavy bruise. It barely looked more healed than it would for a normal person. That was… really not good. A part of him considered going over to the Avenger’s tower to get it looked at. But he couldn’t… he had midterms.

Stumbling back over to the kitchen table he sighed and dragged his other text book over to him. He had to keep studying. His body would be fine, surely. He went to reach for another energy drink, but his stomach churned and he hesitated, before grabbing the water. For some reason just thought of more of the caffeine made him feel like he needed to go throw up.

He had only managed to get about an hour of studying in before his stomach was desperately screeching at him to get some food into him. Sighing, he gave into it and wandered over to his kitchen. Opening his fridge he saw… condiments. Some pickles, and a barely not empty jug of milk.

He felt his heart sink at it. God, why was he just a fucking mess? Slamming the door shut, he tried to keep his breathing even as he started rummaging through his mostly empty cabinets. He paused when he saw a bag of pancake mix. Right. He had made pancakes with MJ one night as a night in. Grabbing the mix, he looked around only to see all his bowls were dirty. Biting his lip, he just shoved all the dirty plates into one sink and piled the rest up next to it, before he washed a bowl and a pan, and a spatula in the sink, breathing a bit heavier.

A few minutes later he was finishing up the first pancake but the pile of dishes next to him just kept tearing into his heart.

Worthless.

A joke.

A disappointment.

A mess.

Peter realized he didn’t have a plate to pour it onto. “FUCK!” He shouted, far too loud for the time in the morning it was as he quickly half cleaned a plate, drying it off with shaky hands as he moved to the pan.

Now grabbing the slightly burnt pancake, his hands were shaking too much as he used the spatula but it tipped off the edge of the plate and fell onto the floor.

He watched it slow motion but he couldn’t bring himself to catch it with his reflexes. He was just so tired.

It landed unceremoniously on the dirty ground. Something in Peter broke.

“GODDAMMIT!” He shouted as he threw the pan with enough force that it broke one the cabinets on the opposite end of the kitchen and he just dropped the spatula and slid to the ground.

He curled his fists in his hair and just fell apart. He couldn’t stop the tears as he held his head. What the fuck was he doing with his life? He was just so damn tired. He was falling behind in all of his classes. His apartment was an embarrassment. He was broke. He had an amazing girlfriend he just kept disappointing. He needed to turn off the fucking stove and he couldn’t summon the strength to stand up.

He just clenched his head tighter, head between his knees as he did his best not to scream and get in even more trouble with his neighbors.

He heard the sound of someone approaching his door. He wanted to stand up. To hide his mess. To do anything but he just continued to sob on the ground, everything falling apart.

There was a knock on the door.

“Peter?” MJ’s voice called out.

His stomach dropped. No. She can’t see him like this. He tried to stand up, but his legs weren’t responding. Everything was so bright, and everything was starting to get so loud He tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. He heard her knock a few more times, as well as the muffled voices of people in the hallway saying something he couldn’t make out in his state.

“Peter!” MJ’s voice was more frantic this time as he heard the door unlocking. Fuck. He forgot she had a spare key.

She rushed in the apartment, looking around. He heard her gasp as she saw the broken cabinet. “Peter?” Her voice was more frantic as she turned and saw him on the ground. He tried to stand up again but his entire body was shaking and he couldn’t stop the fucking tears.

“MJ…”

In a flash she was at his side, looking him over for any signs of injuries. He saw her eyes flutter around the apartment, taking the state of it in before they settled back on him as he buried his head into his knees again.

“Peter…” Her voice was barely a whisper.

He couldn’t take it. He didn’t want anyone to see him this low. Especially not MJ. She was going to leave him. She should.

“Are you okay?” Her voice was gentle again.

Shakily he looked up to her, deep into her eyes. The truth rushed out of him, desperately clawing its way from deep inside.

“No.”

#spideychelle #peter parker #michelle jones #MJ #Ned leeds #Betty Brant #MCU #Peter is a disaster #and needs help #AND HES GONNA GET GET IT #Cause I like people figuring their shit out

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p-artsypants · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll Handle This (5)

In Which There is an Akuma

Ao3 | FF.net

Plagg was laying on the bed when he returned. “Oh good, you’re back. I was kind of worried about you—“

“There’s an Akuma!” Adrien interrupted.

Plagg’s eyes lit up. “An Akuma, you say? How interesting...”

“Yeah yeah, just do the thing that sucks me in the ring!”

“I’ll warn you ahead of time, when I’m in your body like this, the suit becomes factory default. Oh, and you’ll be able to see and hear everything I do.”

“Great. This whole ‘Invasion of the Bodysnatchers’ episode is getting better and better.”

“Adrien, Claws out!”

That was an odd sensation. Now Adrien knew what Taffy felt like. He felt his whole body grow long and thin, before spiraling smaller and smaller. There was every color in the rainbow, flashing in a nauseous wave, and then, he was looking through his eyes again.

“Ha!” Said Plagg with a little satisfaction. “Feels good to be on the other side.” He walked over to the mirror, where Adrien could finally see what ‘factory default’ meant.

He looked like a ninja. Not like a Naruto ninja, but like a real Sengoku period, 15th century ninja. An all black, cloth ensemble, with foot wraps and a thick belt. Instead of claws on his fingertips, there were long blades attached to the back of his hand, almost like wolverine. Instead of a mask around his eyes, he wore one over the lower half of his face, and only left his eyes exposed. But his eyes looked different enough. The sclera was a toxic green instead of white, and his pupils were slit. Thick black eyeliner traced the eyes and framed them, making the color pop. His hair was a complete disaster and stood up in every direction.

Finally, the ears. They were real, genuine cat ears. Complete with fur.

“Not too shabby, if I say so. Though, the first guys that wore this had black hair, which made the ears less jarring. But I can’t complain. We mustn’t leave our lady waiting!”

Plagg threw open the window and leapt into the city.

He rushed over the rooftops, doing impossible feats of parkour and agility. It actually made Adrien dizzy.

“Oh, one other thing I forgot to mention,” Plagg said aloud. “You know how when you’re in the suit, you can be body slammed into a building and be okay afterwards?”

Yeah?

“Well...you’re going to feel all that pain instead. That’s why I’m always so wiped after a fight.”

What?!

Plagg glanced at his baton, the screen looking more like parchment than the usual LED screen, and found where Ladybug was.

A hop skip and a jump, he landed next to her. “What are we up against?”

She didn’t look at him, eyes glued to the akuma. “Stretchy guy. Like Mr. Fantastic. Can’t figure out what ticked him off, but he’s able to reach anything and even shape shift. Might be difficult to fight.” Then she finally looked at him and her eyes bulged. “Chat? What’s with your suit?”

“Plagg’s having a hard time right now, so I’m factory default.”

“O...Kay...are you going to be okay fighting like that?”

“It feels fine, my Lady. Nothing to worry about. In fact, do you mind if I take the lead on this one? Give you a little break?”

She chuckled. “You know I could always use a break.”

“Great! We need to lead him over to the construction site over at Notre Dame, where all the scaffolding are.”

She smiled at him. “I think I know what you’re planning, Kitty. Lead the way.”

He dropped the bottom part of his mask, and wolf whistled quickly, before Ladybug could place his face. “Hey stretch!” He shouted. “You up for a little race?”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir! You’ll give me your Miraculous as soon as I reach you!”

“Good luck with that!” And he vaulted backwards on to the street and darted towards Notre Dame.

Plagg was fast. Faster than Chat Noir normally was, and Ladybug was surprised at how hard it was to keep up with him.

“H-Hey Chat! Don’t leave me behind!”

He only stopped a second to scoop her up into his arms before running off again. Her added weight didn’t even slow him down.

“Sorry, Bug. The Akuma has long legs, so he’s faster than usual. I can’t slow down, so hang on!”

She did, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

Adrien was going to kill Plagg if he didn’t die from ecstasy first. He could feel Ladybug pressed tightly against him, and he loved every bouncing second of it.

Soon they reached the construction site, with the Akuma hot on their tail.

“Split up,” Plagg commanded and Ladybug gave a firm nod, following right along with him.

While Adrien was basically on autopilot, he noted that this fight felt a lot like being on the jungle gym when he was a kid. He swung on the bars, twisting up levels onto the scaffolding, the akuma chasing after with each turn.

Except, the akuma was long, and he was starting to get tangled in all the bars.

“Oh no!” Ladybug feigned a cry. “I’m stuck! He might be able to get my Miraculous!”

“You’re mine!” Called the akuma, twisting around a pole and darting for her. As he was about to snag her, she dropped and spun on her bent knees away.

“Whoops, not so stuck after all!”

“I’m going to—“ The akuma reached out their arm, stretching and stretching to grab at her ears. But he never reached her. He was out of length, and hopelessly tangled in the mass of wood and metal. “No! No!” He wriggled, trying to untie himself, but Plagg had already found the akumatized item in the akuma’s back pocket. A roll of measuring tape.

“Akuma, coming in hot!” He called, as he smashed the tape.

The black butterfly emerged, and Ladybug caught it and purified it easily. “Bye bye little butterfly!”

One cure later, the relative damage done to the scaffoldings was repaired, and the akuma victim, a short man, was returned to ground level.

“Wow! We didn’t even have to use our powers today! Great work, kitty!” She praised as he raised her fist.

He bumped her back with a grin. “Thank you, Bug. Hope you didn’t mind me taking charge. I just figured with you being the guardian and all, having some shared responsibility would really help you out.”

She exhaled with a breath, her shoulders relaxing. “Ugh, you have no idea. When that akuma alert went off, I was already dreading it. It’s been a long day.”

Plagg frowned. “A long day?” Even after their shopping spree and awesome lunch? “Do you need to talk about it?”

She ground her toes on the roof of the church. “Are you busy? Plagg said you were doing something…”

“Oh, I was napping. I have all the time in the world for you, Ladybug.”

“Want to get some ice cream, then?”

“Only if you let me pay.”

She dramatically put a hand to her forehead, “oh, if you must!”

Plagg chuckled with her, and then took off running.

“Hey! I never said it was a race!” She called back.

“You never said it wasn’t either!” He shouted back.

When she finally located Andre’s ice cream cart, he was already sitting and waiting with her order. “Your ice cream, my lady?”

“You’re so fast! Have you just been holding out on me all this time?!” She huffed, taking the cone from him.

He shrugged. “Oh, I have a couple of tricks up my sleeves.”

They enjoyed their ice cream in comfortable silence for a while, before Ladybug asked, “hey, you’re a boy, right?”

“Last I checked.”

She shook her head at her dumb question. “Right. Um…I have a friend. Guy friend.”

Plagg crossed his legs. “OoooOOoooo is it him?”

Ladybug blushed. “Yes.”

“Tell me everything.”

Inside his head, Adrien started to panic. This could only end badly for them!

“Well today…he was acting really weird. Usually, he’s really nice and reserved and polite…I know he can be silly and rambunctious, but…today, he was larger than life. He took us out for an expensive lunch, and then shopping for clothes that would make his dad angry. I think it’s a rebellious streak, but my gal friend said his money has gone to his head…” She scuffed her foot on the floor. “I’m just worried. I don’t want him to change…but I don’t want him to fake being someone he’s not just to make others happy. I guess I’m just confused. What do you think?”

Plagg finished his cone in one gulp, hiding his face right after. “I think it’s just puberty.”

She did not think that was amusing. “Yeah right.”

“Has handsome rich boy ever shown signs of materialistic superiority?”

“No, he wears the same clothes all the time, and never flaunts the things he owns—“

“Then I think your gal pal is off base. It probably is rebellion. Just…be a safe place for him, and I’m sure it’ll end up okay.”

“A safe place? What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure what this dude is rebelling for. You’d probably know. Is his family…strict?”

“Very.”

“And controlling?”

“Extremely.”

“Okay, so if I was in his shoes, I’d want a friend that was trustworthy for me to confide in. Rebelling is liberating and exciting, but also extremely scary, because it’s risky. He needs to have someone to have his back in case things go south.” He massaged her shoulder. “And it would be best if that friend was soft and smelled nice.”

Ladybug smacked his shoulder. “When did you get so wise?”

“I hide a lot of wisdom under my ‘dumbass’ veneer.”

Ladybug cackled loudly, making Plagg smile and Adrien swoon.

“You can be a dumbass sometimes,” Ladybug admitted. “But you’re my dumbass.”

“Aww, thanks bug!” He grinned. “So, handsome rich boy is all that’s on your mind? I know identity clues have to be avoided and all, but I like knowing stuff that’s going on in your life. And I think I can manage another golden nugget of advice as well, if needed.”

Ladybug frowned, obviously something else cropping up in her mind. “Actually…there’s something I haven’t told you that I probably should have.”

“I’m all ears. I literally have four of them.” He twitched his cat ears.

She reached up and rubbed them, an affectionate look on her face as she felt the fur under her fingertips. “Not too long ago, I was expelled from school.”

“Ladybug is a bad student in her civilian life?” He joked.

“No! I’m not!” She damn-near cried. “Sorry, I just…ugh. I was framed. There’s this girl in my class that…she lies with every breath. I know she has a crush on my crush, but she’s lying and manipulating to get her way to him. She works with him now too.”

Plagg knew there was certainly more to the story than that, but he had to play dumb as Chat Noir. “Lying is bad and all, but it’s not really your problem, is it? She’ll get caught in her web eventually.”

“Argh, that’s what Ad—my boy said too. Take the high road. And it made sense, for what he knew about her at the time…but what he didn’t know was that she threatened me. Threatened to take all my friends and him away, just because I told her to stop lying.”

This was a shock to both kwami and holder. “She threatened you?”

“Yeah. And she went through with it. She got me expelled. Apparently, according to my boy, he sort of convinced her to double lie to get me un-expelled. She’s been quiet ever since, which has been a few weeks, but…she keeps staring at me. It’s unnerving.”

“I suppose it would be, with her track record.”

“I didn’t want you to find out about this, but I have to tell you. She’s almost gotten me akumatized, twice.”

Plagg slapped a hand over his mouth with a gasp.

Lila was a nuisance for Adrien, but she was a problem for Marinette. No, an imminent threat. This changed his attack strategy…though it started to look like Adrien’s three problems were weaved together. The whole situation was a little more delicate than he had considered at first.

“I’ve beaten both akumas off, but I worry about the future. I’m trying to come up with a contingency plan, but for right now it’s just ‘don’t get upset’.”

“I’ll try to come up with a plan too. Maybe next time, you could hand your earrings off to Tikki for a little while, if things start to get dicey. She can bring them to me, since she knows who I am.”

Ladybug gnawed at her lip. “Tikki’s been my greatest ally in fighting them off. If she’s not there…”

Plagg rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Bug, you’re the practical one here. What happens when you don’t give Tikki your earrings, and you don’t fight it off? When you’re so consumed with pain you don’t even see the Akuma coming? What then?”

She shook her head. “You’re so right, I hate it.” She sighed. “That happened the last time too…I was only spared because Hawkmoth suddenly stopped his attack. That was the day I got expelled.”

“And I’ll follow the plan too. I haven’t gotten akumatized or anything, but it might only be a matter of time.”

“Yeah…” It was awful to think about. Having to fight her partner was not something that Marinette wanted to do. But this loose plan was better than no plan. “Hey, it’s getting pretty late. I have a project I have to finish up.”

“Oh, of course, go on home.” Plagg insisted.

“Thanks for the Ice Cream, and for lending an ear. You’re the best, Kitty.”

Plagg smiled at her, though she couldn’t see through his mask. His eyes crinkled in mirth. “I try.”

“Tell Plagg I still have that cheese danish if he wants it. Night, Chat.”

“Night, Bug.”

And she swung off into the distance.

Plagg took out his baton and made his own way home. He knew Adrien didn’t really want to be transformed any longer than he had to be.

He landed inside the mansion, and called, “Claws in.”

Adrien came flying out of the ring, and Plagg caught him carefully in his hands. “How you feeling, kiddo?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” said Adrien, weakly. “You didn’t even use my power, why am I so tired?”

“How much cheese did you eat today?”

“None.” Adrien scrunched up his nose. “Come to think of it, I didn’t eat anything today.”

“That would certainly do it.” Plagg said, with a sigh. He took out a wheel of camembert and took out a wedge for Adrien, holding it in front of his face.

Normally, Adrien couldn’t stand the smell. It was putrid and foul and moldy…but this…this was on a different level. Curse Plagg’s disgusting body! He sat up and helped himself to a nibble of cheese. A nibble turned into a bite, and a bite turned into a full inhale, almost taking off his fingers.

“Better?”

Adrien sighed as his energy started to return. “Remind never to complain about your eating habits.”

Plagg grinned. “Oh it's a deal!”

Adrien’s phone rang, and Plagg reached to answer.

“Who is it?” Asked Adrien.

“It’s Marineeeeeeetteeeee~!” Plagg sang, and connected the call, putting it on speaker for Adrien to hear.

“Hey Pooh Bear.”

“H-hey uh, Tigger? No no that was dumb. Sorry, hi Adrien.”

Plagg and Adrien shared a look of fondness. She was just too cute sometimes.

“Whats up?” Pried Plagg.

“Uh, not-not much! I just finished your second shirt! I can do more tomorrow, but for now…”

“I’ve got an outfit picked out for tomorrow, don’t worry. And you’ll love it.”

“Will I really? Or will it turn me into a pillar of salt?”

“Have a little faith in me, Mari.”

“I—of course. Did you just call me Mari?”

“Yeah, I thought it was about time I gave you a nickname. Is that okay? Or are you okay with Pooh Bear?”

Marinette’s giggle was adorable, as it was filled with thinly veiled embarrassment. “Call me whatever you like! I don’t mind!”

“Great! What’s my nickname?”

“I don’t know? Do you want one?”

“Only from you, Pooh Bear!” He sang.

“Um…I’ll have to think about it. I think I’ve heard Lila and Chloe both call you ‘Adri’, so I’ll try to come up with something else.”

“I appreciate that.” Plagg said, as Adrien smiled fondly at the phone. It sure was considerate of her to think about that.

“And Adrien?” Her tone conveyed so much. So much more than Adrien could understand. But it brought a warmth to his face.

“Yes?”

“I’m here for you. You know that, right? Whatever you need. An ear, a h-h-hug. Whatever. I…I care about you.”

Adrien wiped a paw under his eyes, fully prepared for tears to take him.

“I care about you too,” Plagg said, not faking the genuine appreciation in his voice. “I appreciate everything you do for me.”

“I-…” She trailed off, and Adrien wondered if she was going to say something else. But instead, she just exhaled and said. “It’s getting kind of late. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course, Pooh Bear!”

She laughed. “Thanks Adrien, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” And he ended the call.

“She took your advice.” Adrien noted.

“She took Chat Noir’s advice. She trusts him after all.”

Adrien sat on the desk, still feeling a storm brewing inside of him. He was still upset about Plagg’s behavior with his father…but he was starting to come around. Marinette never called him, and her conversations with him were never so easy. Was this actually working?

“Adrien,” Plagg started, scratching between his ears. “I’m sorry for hurting you. If there was a way to humble your father without hurting you in the process, I’d do it…but right now…”

“I understand, Plagg.” Adrien said with a hopeful smile. “It sucks but…that Chloe-tantrum you threw was really funny.”

Plagg beamed at him.

“And,” Adrien added. “After hearing the whole truth about Lila, I’m fully on board with whatever you want to do to her.”

“Fully?”

“Absolutely. This bitch needs to go.”

The mansion was nearly silent in the night, so Plagg’s evil cackle echoed and echoed, sending goosebumps down the neighbor’s spines.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #adrienette #adrien and plagg #I'll handle this #fanfiction #ladybug

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jhoudiey · 4 years ago

Text

The Debutante Ball is here!

There's dancing! Intrigue! ..uhhh..whatever the fuck else happens at balls. Introduce a new OC, and borrow a few from @twistedikon and @walpurga-nacht-academy no warnings 3450 words ____________________________________ “Got your key?!” Crowley chirped when they met him in the hallway near the door. Yoru rolled her eyes and pulled it from the waistband of her dress. “Oho! Look at you two! You match! How cute!!” She scoffed, uncomfortably aware how close in colour her dress was to Floyd's hair. “But we really must be off! If we’re late, Miss Astoria will be most mad at me, and I don’t want to spend the night getting yelled at!”

He marched off through the front door, Yoru and Floyd following along behind him. When they arrived at WNA, Crowley flying off to meet with the other staff to discuss the speeches they’d be giving. Yoru and Floyd met up with her RSA date near the front entrance to the manor.

“Floyd, this is Floyd” she gestured from one to the other, wondering why in the world she had invited a second Floyd to be her date, this was going to get convoluted. Floyd Leech looked down at his RSA counterpart, he must have been at least 30cms shorter than he was and at least that wider around. Floyd raised his eyebrow at Yoru and grinned, wondering what could have possessed her to invite a short, fat, blonde and blue haired boy as her date two years in a row.

“Ah Yoru-san! It’s nice to see you again! It’s nice to meet you, Floyd! I’m Floyd Dürer! Pleased to make your acquaintance!” He held out his hand, beaming at Floyd waiting for him to shake his hand. Floyd grinned and grabbed it, perhaps too hard and shook it wildly.

“Hiya Kinchakudai-chan. Nice to meet you ehe~” He showed off his teeth and the shorter Floyd quickly withdrew his hand and held out his arm for Yoru

“S-shall we go?” Yoru nodded, taking his arm, grabbing onto the taller Floyd's hand and dragging him along with them. It wouldn’t be good if she lost him before they even arrived, she was already dreading how he was going to act since she expected he’d be bored in under 10 minutes.

“After you!” Floyd gestured to the door for Yoru to unlock to take them to the mansion where the ball was to be held.

“Eeeh? We get to use a secret door? Cool!” Floyd Leech was so far entertained, Yoru hoped his mood kept up for a few hours but could never be sure what would set him off and put him in a bad mood.

They quickly spotted Jade seated at a table with Amity, Yoru's fellow second year at WNA and a student from RSA she didn’t know. Floyd skipped over to the table, dragging Yoru and Floyd behind him.

“Nee, Jade, Look! Another Floyd!” he laughed, pointing at the other boy as he made himself comfortable in the seat nearest Jade. Floyd Dürer smiled, and raised his hand as a greeting with a smile.

“Hello! It’s nice to meet you, I hope we all have a good evening!” He pulled out Yoru’s chair for her and waited for her to sit down before taking a seat for himself. Yoru had gone with him to the ball in her first year, he was one of the few students who hadn’t found a date before the deadline and she hadn’t wanted to bother searching and took whoever was available. Surprisingly she found they got along, he was a bit too sweet and naive for her, but he was pleasant enough.

She chuckled to herself thinking about the differences between the two boys she’d brought with her. The Floyd to her left was chatting animatedly to Jade, Amity, and her RSA date Xavier, laughing loudly, not caring who he may be irritating with the volume of his voice. On her right, Floyd sat quietly, looking around the room taking in the atmosphere waiting for the speeches to start, she found every time he looked at her he averted his eyes from her chest and quickly looked away.

The chatter around the room dulled as the speeches began, Yoru’s battle with Floyd just beginning. Shortly after they started, he had started loudly complaining that it was boring and he wanted to dance, she hurried to shush him hoping that the sounds didn’t carry to the front of the room. She was glad they were seated near the back and that it was unlikely anyone of consequence heard his whining. They spent the entire 20 minutes of the speeches locked in a whispered battle of him complaining, and her trying to get him to be quiet and to just suck it up. Jade grinned from his seat, clearly having more fun watching them argue as quietly as possible rather than listening to the heads of the schools talking about unity, longevity and whatever else they were rambling on about.

After the speeches were finished there was a smattering of applause, and the smaller Floyd held his hand out to her

“shall we go dance? I even made my pants talon-proof this year so you don’t need to worry about stepping on me again!” He laughed, waiting for her to take his hand. Yoru grabbed it but found she wasn’t able to stand. She had started panicking, thinking of last year’s ball where she spent the evening tripping over herself trying to learn the proper steps. Floyd had been very patient with her and hadn’t minded that she managed to shred both her dress and his pants every time she overstepped by accident.

“Um… I think I need something to eat first..” She muttered, dropping his hand and striding towards the table laden with food, feeling less confident in her choice of clothing by the moment. She shouldn’t have let Floyd talk her into going. She felt someone uncomfortably close behind her and knew who it was before he even opened his mouth

“Hey Fugu-chan, is this ball always this boring? I didn’t think it would be so stuffy” Floyd asked, plucking a tart off her plate and dropping it into his mouth. She glowered at him, adding more food to her plate while slapping his hand away from further thievery.

“Get your own plate” She complained, turning back to the table. There were already couples dancing on the floor, she looked on with envy wishing she had their grace. She was only ever graceful in the air, but her wings hadn’t fully grown back yet so at best she could manage an awkward lopsided flutter.

She’d barely finished eating when the polite Floyd offered his hand, another offer to dance. She reached for his hand again before it was pulled away by the more insistent Floyd.

“Come on Fugu-chan! Dance with me instead!!” He dragged her to the middle of the dance floor where he paid no mind to the other dancers, nor the music and threw his body around wildly, spinning her whenever he had the chance.

“Floyd, would you stop? Everyone is looking at us!” She growled at him, trying to hold him in place. He glared at her

“Huuuuuh? We’re supposed to dance, so I’m dancing, don’t know why you have a problem with it” he wretched free of her grip and continued to writhe around, bumping into everyone around them.

“Floyd! You can’t just do anything you want here, I could get in trouble if you cause a scene, cut the shit!” He frowned at her and stopped dancing, crossing his arms.

“If you didn’t want me to dance why’d you even invite me?” he complained. Yoru stared at him, wishing she could just throw him in the lake like she usually would.

“You can dance, just… do it properly. I don’t wanna get thrown out. The headmistress is really strict” She sighed, hoping that he’d listen to her this time. He sighed dramatically

“whatever Fugu-chan, this is boring anyway” he sulked and lumbered off the dance floor, sitting back down at the table they’d started from.

“Umm Yoru, would you like to dance?” A soft voice from behind her asked, she turned and saw the shorter Floyd carefully avoiding his view at eye level. She nodded and took his hand

“Thanks. I haven’t really practiced so sorry in advance” she grimaced at him and looked down at her feet, trying to follow his lead. After a few dances she was starting to get more comfortable, and her nerves began to fade. There were more couples dancing now, and they were more easily lost in the crowd, so she suspected fewer people would see her stumble. Floyd glared at the pair of them from where he sat hunched at their table.

“This is so booooorrrriiiinnnggggg” Floyd complained to himself. He was alone at the table, Jade was dancing with Amity somewhere in the center of the room, Xavier had excused himself to another table in the meantime, Azul was busy dancing too and would make him do all sorts of boring work if he interrupted. He sighed glancing around the room for something to do. He spotted Riddle dancing with some bunny girl across the room and had half a thought to go harass him before he remembered what Yoru had said about him getting her in trouble by causing a scene. He grumbled loudly and looked around the room for someone else he could bother, spotting Idia and Vita in the back corner of the room. Perfect.

“Hotaru Ika senpaiiiiiiiiii” He sang, flopping himself down at their table “entertain me, Yoru told me I couldn’t dance anymore” Vita glared at him as Idia fidgeted with his hands, he never really knew what to do with Floyd. He really wasn’t sure how Yoru put up with him all the time, he was so hard to deal with. When he didn’t answer Floyd turned to Vita

“Shiromakajiki- chan why aren’t you dancing? Do you not know how? I can show you” She sighed and continued to glare at him

“pray tell, don’t you have anyone else to prattle on to? We aren’t interested in your company” He pouted at her

“Too bad, everyone else is dancing and I’m bored. So do you need me to teach you? You do look like you don’t know how…” She scoffed at his accusation

“Scurry along now, won’t you, I wish to spend the evening with my husband and you’re interrupting”

“husband?” Floyd asked, raising an eyebrow at Idia “I didn’t know you were married, Hotaru Ika senpai! How did that happen, you’re such a shut in!” Idia chuckled a little, and scratched his head

“umm… you know.. We’re not actually… umm” He withered under Vitas stare, she sat up in her chair, fixing Floyd with the coldest gaze she could manage, bristling at the insult to Idia.

“Has the bird tired of you already? I know she hesitated to bring you in the first place, and now I see why” Floyd looked at her, confused.

“What do you mean she didn’t want to bring me?” he pouted. Vita laughed in his face.

“Oh, did Birdy not tell you that everyone else she inquired about in the first place had already secured a date and that you were her last choice? How tragic, the eel doesn’t even know he’s unwanted” She sneered at him, waiting for him to crumble before her. He glared at her as she waved him away as if he were nothing more than a gnat. Floyd sighed and wandered away from the table, he looked over to the dance floor and saw Yoru dancing with the other Floyd, they were laughing and seemed to be having a good time, they were perfectly fine without him.

Floyd walked out onto the balcony, his mood soured. Why had she even invited him if she didn’t want to? He launched himself over the bannister of the balcony and swung himself down into the garden to wander. Everyone was too busy tonight to entertain him, he found himself really lonely despite there being people peppered everywhere outside. He wondered if Jade and Azul thought he was a burden on them too, or if it was just Yoru.

Floyd walked through the garden until he came to a small pond, crouching at the edge to throw small stones across it, lost in thought. It had been nearly an hour before Yoru had ventured out to the garden to find him. She had seen him leave, but had almost mastered the foxtrot and wanted to make sure she had the steps right before asking him to dance. She knew he was more likely to make fun of her for a misstep, so she’d made sure it was perfect before being confident enough to track him down to ask.

“What are you doing out here? I learned a dance, come on” She said, gesturing back towards the mansion. He sighed and shook his head,

“was I really your last choice, Fugu-chan?” he pouted, refusing to look at her. She tilted her head, confused. Where in the world was this coming from.

“Huh? I…oh... I guess you were, though not like I really asked many people. Come on though, you said you wanted to dance earlier so I learned one” she held out her hand to him, he pushed it away before standing up to look down on her.

“You're acting really weird tonight Fugu-chan, I don’t like it” she took a half step back from him, annoyed that she’d spent the last hour trying to learn a dance so he wouldn’t be bored but he ignored her offer.

“Excuse me?” she snapped, perhaps a little too quickly “what do you mean I’m acting different?” Floyd glared at her and crossed his arms,

“you’re being all stuck up and stuff. It’s not like you” she took a step back towards him

“stuck up how? Because I don’t want you to get me kicked out of school?” He held his ground against her advance

“yea. Since when do you care about stuff like that?” he complained

“since i was able to get into the school I’ve wanted to attend since I was a kid and I don’t want you to ruin it? I’m already on thin ice here so you can’t just do whatever you want and not worry about any consequences because it doesn’t affect you!”

“haaaah? how would I ruin it?” Before long they were standing inches apart arguing, one breath away from shouting at each other.

“The way you act! You can’t just do whatever you want wherever you are, don’t you realize the problems you cause for people? I know you’re not that dumb, so unless you’re actually stupid you have to be doing it on purpose, right?” She shouted at him

“Eeeeeeh? I just wanna have fun! You’re the idiot out here looking and acting like some lame human following all the boring customs and rules! Its so lame!”

“WHAT?” she shrieked “I’m only here because you guilted me into it, I didn’t even want to come!”

“so why did you?!”

“You conned me into it when I hadn’t slept in 3 days! How the hell was I supposed to fight back? Not all of us are perfect like you, Floyd!”

“Eh? Who said anything about being perfect! You just need to be you,Fugu-chan, not this weird stuck up wannabe human!”

“Well sorry I’m not living up to your expectations, I’ll make sure I go back to hating myself and this stupid fucking dress. Is that what you want?”

“Heeeeeeeeh? Are you stupid?I just said -”

“It doesn’t matter what you said, I know what you meant! This whole night is a joke to you! I’m a joke to you!”

“ What? Do your ears not work, Fugu-chan? What do you expect me to say? That you do look like an idiot in your dress and that you’re pathetic for even pretending? Is that what you want to hear? Huh?”

She lunged and him and grabbed him by his shirt collar

“say it again. I dare you.” he grabbed onto her wrist and pried her hand off of his shirt, making sure to squeeze as hard as possible. He could feel her bones grinding together as he dragged her closer to him so he could stare into her face fully to repeat himself.

“I said you look stupid, Fugu-chan. Who the hell are you trying to fool looking like this? You’re never going to be human so why do you keep pretending? Just give up already”. Rage flared in her stomach and her eyes burned, she forgot where they were for a moment as she moved to attack Floyd with her free hand.

“YORU! Miss Astoria will be most displeased if you get blood all over her lovely garden! Time to come back inside!” Crowley had landed beside them and caught her hand before she could strike, tearing her away from Floyd and dragging her back into the ballroom.

“Now, I don't know what Mr. Floyd Leech-kun said, but that’s no reason to attack him! And Nugget, going for his throat… while that is normally an excellent striking point, I can’t have you murdering my students, please keep that in mind!” she wretched herself from his grasp and nearly walked directly into the other Floyd.

“Ah Yoru-san! I …. Are you okay?” He noticed the look on her face and reached for his handkerchief.

“I’m fine” She muttered, trying to push past him to get herself to the exit as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the most anticipated and largest waltz of the night had started and the room was full of couples dancing and weaving through the room, making an escape difficult.

“Here, I’ll dance you to the exit. This one is easy enough, just follow my lead” Floyd said to her gently, steering them towards the exit. Yoru focused on her feet, letting herself be dragged along by the shorter boy.

“Umm, I’m sorry for saying this, but we heard you two in the garden…” She gave him a half glance in panic, he looked at her with sad eyes. “Everyone outside heard, your voices carried so loudly… I’m sorry Yoru-san. Is there anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head furiously, tears streaming down her face as she refused to look at him. Everyone knew. She knew that she was a fraud but had told herself that somehow everything would turn out alright, she should have known that Floyd was right and she looked like a fool. Despite her best efforts, she’d humiliated herself again, she just hoped that she wouldn’t get scolded by the headmistress. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle it, not tonight.

They danced nearer and nearer the exit, Floyd squeezing her hand gently in an effort to comfort her. When they reached the door he made sure to give her his handkerchief so that she would be able to dry her eyes when she needed to. He watched her rush from the room and out the door as Floyd Leech glared at them from a back table.

He’d slinked back into the ballroom shortly after their argument and watched her dance across the room wanting to chase after her, but Crowley was nearby and likely to stop them. That was no fun. He didn’t like seeing her with the other Floyd, even if she was mad at him it should have been him she was dancing with. They argued all the time and it was always fine in the end, he didn’t know why she was so angry this time. This is just what they did. They bickered but always laughed about it afterwards. She didn’t laugh this time though. He sighed wondering if he’d finally gone too far and she was going to stop being his friend now, that seemed to be how things usually went for him.

When Yoru returned home she tore the dress from her body, sequins falling to the floor. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror in the closet and screamed. She couldn’t even look at herself, why had she ever thought that tonight would be okay despite how she looked. She was a joke, and no amount of pretty clothing or makeup would change that. She wretched the mirror off the wall, dragged it to the upper landing and threw it down the stairs. She repeated the process with the mirror in the bathroom, she was done looking at her disgusting bird body. Floyd was right. She was never going to be human. Never. He was right. She collapsed to the floor, lost herself in the knowledge she was and always would be a failure.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #yoru crowley #floyd leech #twisted wonderland #twst #floyd durer #twisute oc #twst fic #twst oc fic #walpurga nacht academy #debutante ball #dire crowley

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randomsevans · 4 years ago

Text

Maid to be

part one

RANSOM DRYSDALE X READER

You share a secret with a trust fund playboy what happens when one family dinner ,may or may not reveal your secret

The loud chatter and screams filled the manner , allowing everyone to hear the usual fights the bust out of no where with this family . Ransom sat there in shame of his family members , sharing the same look as his grandfather on the other side of the dinner table .Usual Ransom would of joined in or even start an argument or two . But not this time he sat quietly awaiting the food .

the help one by one started to come in and silenced the family , placing the food on the table neatly , to then some would remained in the room if there was anything more the up tight needed . But their were more likely there for Harlan make a quick get away when things get to much .The tension in the air thick from the daggers everyone was sending to each other .

Walt began to plate up his food and soon everyone followed . coursing a few mumbles and cures , the chatter began to build up. Ransoms was in a mind of his own as he heard his family began to complain again , that was until he heard your name .

“arrr where is she ?” Linda ,Ransoms mother demanded “y/n ?”

Ransom blood began to boil at the tone his mother was using , but it was no different to how he sounded to everyone else.Ransom became calm as he saw you pop your head around the door way and made you way in .Ransom heart began to flutter as you looked just as beautiful the first day he met you (well saw you , you had worked for Harlan for 4 months until he notice you ) you began working for Harlan to pay of debts and keep you a float .

Ransom was walking towards his grandfather office , getting ready for a lovely. even of go and disapproval of Ransoms life style , but still whats new . He was scrolling threw his phone , with his brown coat hanged over his arm as he remained outside the office door for a second as he finished sending his message to some random girl . Ransom heard the door open , and went to walk in with his eyes still glued to his phone . That was until someone walked into him, causing the plates that were being carried to clash against the floor , followed by a girl that fell to her knees to collect them up .

“ im so sorry sir “ her sweet voice , made Ransom titled his head in curiosity

“you should be !” he snapped , as she got back up with the plates in her hand , As she slowly brought her head up , Ransom breath hitched as his blue orbs meet yous . Your hair was plied up on top of your head with loose strains surroundings your face , Your cheeks flushed with either embarrassment or fear . “ i was an accident sir , sorry once again “

“ you new here “ Ransom question

“ no sir ive worked here for four months now “ you stated . That shocked Ransom a little surly he would of notice such a pretty face ..

“then you should know to call me Hugh , and nothing else “ Her eyes widen , and she nodded her head .

“yes Hugh , once again i apologise “ you said exiting the door frame and heading back to go knows where , But Ransom couldn't help his eyes wonder over you . He knows he will have you one way or another . He just didn't realise how addicting you would become to him , much more then any drug or alcohol . You would soon enough become a life line to the trust fund playboy

“Yes Mrs Drysdale ?” you asked in your usual innocent tone .

“fill my cup up would you “

“sure ma am “

“can she not do it her self “ Ransom thought

Ransom kept his eyes locked on you as you made your way to the bar and grabbed a bottle of wine , you walked back and filled Linda's cup up

“mine too” Walt demand at the other side of Linda across the table , you nodded your head and made you way past Harlan , You were nearly there when you tripped over Harlan chair leg and banged your stomach on the corner of the dinner table , your hands automatically flew to your stomach dropping the bottle of wine . Making the glass shatter and the wine run like blood .

it all happened so quick the only thing Ransom knew was his heart leaped out of his chest and he stood up , shaking the whole table and he pushed it forward .His family made gasp and started scolding you .

Ransom was by your side in second a hand on your back and one on your stomach , you both shared the same panic look.

“you okay ?” Ransom asked softly as anxiety and dread started to creep up rather quickly

you were staring at the ground for what felt like forever , until you looked at those ocean blue eyes .

“oh shes just being dramatic “ Joni barked

“ fuck off !” Ransom yelled silencing everyone in the room as all eyes were on the two of you , but neither of you cared , you were both to scared deep down ,. As Ransom removed his hand on your back and brought it to your cheek,

“are you okay ?” he asked again as he stared at your glossy eyes full of fear and embarrassment .

“im okay “ you whispered so quietly it was almost unheard

Ransom sighted “im not taking any chances “ and with that he picked you up and carried you bridal style over the broken glass and towards the kitchen ignoring the yells of his family .You buried your head in his neck and let out a quiet sob .

When you and Ransom entered the kitchen he placed you down on the kitchen isle . His hands tucking your hair away from your face and wiping the few tears that escaped your eyes .

“you got to be more careful” Ransom sighed

“i know , i know , im sorry “ you hiccuped

“its not me you should be saying sorry to “ he placed one of his large hands of your small bloated bump “ him or her just had a bumpy ride , you should be saying sorry to them “ he said with a small smile on his face .

you let out a little giggle and look down as you place your hand over Ransoms “ im sorry “

“see now the worlds back on track “ he laughed

“ im also sorry for giving daddy a heartache “ you whisper slowly

“your damn right , “

you looked up at him with your big innocent eyes “ i only tripped , i didnt mean to “

“ i know , but please for the sake of me and our baby can you be more careful , i dont get why you still work i could look after you , both you of you “

you sighed , you've had this argument over and over again “ i like my job Hugh “

“ oh no you didn't “ he give you a smirk

“ do what ?” you asked as if you dint know

“call me Hugh “

“so what if i did “ you said with the same playful smirk as him

“ only the help calls me Hugh “

“ iam the help “ you said as a matter of fact

“not to me your not “

“and what am i to you” you raised an eyebrow

he placed his hands on your hips “ the beautiful mother of my child and ....”

“and?”

he reached for the necklace around your neck and un-tucked it out of your dress “ my future wife “ he smirked as he placed a kiss the ring that sat on the chain as he kept his eyes connect with your .

“ is that so “ you giggled as your heart melt at his words

“lt is , seen as you were my ring around your neck “ he smirk

he gave you the necklace on one random night , where you mange to have a day off .He gave you it as a promise , to show his love and that you are his

You and Ransom were laying down on his couch , with your head on his chest , you were tucked in under his chin , with your finger laced together , creating shapes and patterns .The house was silent , no TV , no music , no chatter , it was a peace full silence ,one that made everything okay . Apart from a deep chuckle form Ransom now and then when your hands got tingled together . You titled your head slight to look up to the blue eyed man that stole your heart . As you did Ransom eyes lazily glanced down at you , with small sweet smile only for you. He learned down and pecked your lips .

“ i have something for you “his voice deep and relaxed .

“huh ?” you asked as Ransom as he sat you both up , you tucked your knees to your chest , as you sat on his lap .

“its not much a promise “ he chuckled he said that every time , you didnt like it went he brought you gift , because that’s not what you want him for . As well as you feel bad not being able to get him something , even though he already has everything he could want or need .

you nodded you head , you learnt that trying to fight him on it wont work , he will keep treating you no matter what .

Ransom titled his body slightly , so his arm could reach under the coach , he spent a few seconds trying to find what ever it was , until he did , a wide smile played on his lips as he brought his self back up . He pecked you cheek .

“here love “ he place a small black box into your hands , you slowly lifted the lid , and glanced at Ransom who was looking at you instantly , almost nervous . You looked back down and saw , a sliver chain in a mixture of packaging , You picked it up with you thumb and index finger , You raised your hand , pulling the chain out of the box untill in will dangling in the air . You brought your other hand up the what looked like a ring that the chain threaded threw . as you looked closer it was indeed a ring , with a simple yet big diamond at the centre with a silver band

“Hugh “ you simple whisper , you felt Ransom shift under you , bring on hand to you hip which the other reached for the necklace , you followed his arm untill you met his eyes

“what is this ?” you asked with wide eyes

“ i ... “ he paused taking in a deep breath “ your it for me y/n “ he brought the hand on your hip up to your cheek . “ its a promise shall we say , i promise that i will love you till my last breath , to show you how much a love you , And i promise that one day i will be your husband “ you had tears in your eyes as you felt Ransom hand shake against your cheek “if you’ll have me ?”

there was a moment of silence before you leap on to his shoulder , placing your lips to his over and over again . He brought his hands to your hips once again with one hand fisted holding onto the necklace ,

“yes !” you softly whispered

“yes ?” he swapped hair from you shoulder

“ im your Hugh Ransom Drysalde “

. Not long after that you found out you were pregnant .You panicked you didnt know how Ransom would reacted since things between you were secret and he has a reputation .but you couldnt of dream of better , he was silence for a while but then broke down into tears , as he picked you put and spun you around the room . Since that day he has changed so much showing more of his softer side and being way more productive .

"You do realise you caused a scene there gonna have question, think you have went all soft on the help "

"Well I have well ... only you ... I dont give a fuck I'll just distracted them with something else " he laughed .

"I'm sure you will " you giggled

He placed a chase kiss on your lips , you pushed him away slightly, with the fear of being caught . Ransom pulled back and rest his forehead on your

"Mmmm . You Missy are going upstairs , lay down and have a nap ."

"But Ransom ... " you whined

:AND then I'm going to take you home after iv dealt with my shit show of a family " he softly demand

"But my job "

"Harlan will understand... I'll say some glass got into your leg or something... it's just for today ... I need to keep an eye on you , both of you " he sighed

“but Ransom “

“but nothing “ Ransom used his stern intimating voice leaving no room for argument .

“my grandsons right !”

Tag list @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @little-smurf @harrysthiccthighss @captainchrisstan @stupendousfirebouquetbwft @frencchfries @rororo06

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #fanfic #knive out #knives out #knitwear #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey imagine #ransom x you #ransom thrombey fluff

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schrijverr · 4 years ago

Text

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 4 out of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: brief mentions of death

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

Chapter 4: Cornflowers Means ‘Delicacy’

Thomas felt as if he’d gotten Martha’s blessing to pursue Alex. He had wanted to before, but he’d felt guilty towards her, so instead he had riled the other up and argued with him.

But now…

With their tentative friendship evolving every day, the sudden email reminding him to keep living seemed like a sign. Maybe that was stupid, but Thomas was going to cling to it. Though he had to figure out how to work up the courage to flirt first.

He was absolutely hopeless at the whole thing. He’d started bribing Alex with food, making sure the other ate lunch everyday as a way in.

It was a slow process, but yesterday Alex had shown up at his office with a bag with two bagels in it when Thomas had gotten lost in his work and forgotten the time. He’d shrugged: “Seemed only fair to chip in myself for a change.”

Instead of using it as a way to thank him or something, Thomas had made a joke about Alex finally stopping with mooching off him, which had only earned him a small shove, before they had started an argument about the usefulness of the hole in the middle of a bagel.

Thomas was close to ripping his hair out in frustration.

Martha had flirted with him, he had never done this. He had no clue what he should be doing and James was absolutely no help. When he had asked him the man had simply said: “Too aroace, Tom.”

So now he was going to the one other person who could help him with this, but by God did he dread it.

“Hi, Thomas, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hello, Angie,” he replied, holding up a bottle of red wine, “Can I embarrass myself again and have you tell me I’m stupid before helping me?”

Angelica grinned: “With love. Here, come in.”

Thomas came in and dropped the wine on the kitchen counter of her apartment, before throwing himself on the couch with a groan. That earned him an eyeroll from Angelica, who poured them both a glass of wine, before pushing his legs of the couch and sitting down.

“Pizza and a romcom?” she asked, phone already in hand.

“Yeah, let’s be fully trashy,” Thomas agreed.

“You love trashy.”

“I truly do.”

Angelica ordered the pizza and waited for Thomas to leave behind the shelter of a pillow. He finally did and took a large gulp of his wine, before he said: “I don’t know how to flirt.”

“What?” out of all the things, Angelica had not seen that coming, but the realization hit her: “Oh my God are you trying to shoot your shot with Alex?”

“Maybe?” his voice was unsure and small and Angelica was living.

“Are you for real?” she exclaimed, “Tell me everything! Leave out no details. Holy fuck, this is great.”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said miserably.

“You can’t just ask me about advise to flirt with a guy, whom you’ve been crushing on for years while claiming you were never going to go after it and expect me to not get excited about it, Thomas. I mean come on, what changed?”

“I mean, me and Alex are kind of friends now and then-” he hesitated, unsure if he wanted to tell Angelica about the email from Martha, “then I got a reminder- it’s a long story.”

“Tell me,” Angelica demanded.

“You remember Alex brought Philip with him to work?” Thomas began.

“Yeah, that was four months ago, though.”

“Well, me and Alex talked and I told him about Martha, because Philip had told me about John, remember that?” he asked.

Angelica nodded.

“He called me,” Thomas went on, “It was John’s birthday and he was struggling and I had told him he could always talk to me and stuff, so he did. We bought Philip a Halloween costume and then we went to John’s grave so that he could show it to him.”

“Oh shit,” Angelica took a big gulp of her wine, “That’s a lot heavier than I was expecting, sorry. I didn’t know that part, he told us he handled John’s birthday well.”

“I mean, he did, sort off,” Thomas said, “Don’t let him know you know, I don’t know if he wanted me to tell you. But in the end it was a good day.”

“John loved Halloween.”

“Thought so, Alex mentioned Philip getting excited about his costume,” Thomas told her.

Angelica cringed in sympathy.

“Anyway, we spend John’s birthday together and after that it was different in the office and stuff and I brought him lunch-”

“You brought him lunch!”

“He had forgotten, what was I supposed to do? Was that weird?” Thomas sounded scared, Alex hadn’t seem to mind and he did it after. WouldAlex be mad at him?

“No, no, not bad,” Angelica quickly assured him, “Just sweet.”

“Then why did you react like that?” Thomas hissed, stress outing itself.

“Because I haven’t seen Alex eat in break room since forever,” Angelica replied, “He deflects every time I asked, we were already planning an intervention or something.”

“Oh,” Thomas didn’t know what to say to that, “Well, you don’t, he’s been eating fine.”

“Thank God for that, Eliza can be scary.”

Thomas huffed out a laugh at that, before proceeding: “So, I brought him lunch and he thanked me and said that I could call him if needed too.”

“How precious.”

“So I did,” Thomas decided that after sharing about John’s birthday to Angelica it would only be fair to tell her about himself as well, “Because Martha had send me an email – it was a site thing, send emails to the future and stuff – and, well, that was an unexpected punch to the gut.”

“Are you okay, Tommy?” Angelica’s brows were concerned, “I didn’t hear you about it.”

“It’s fine, Angie,” he assured her, “Me and Alex watched movies all day and just reminisced about her, it was nice. But in the email, Martha told me to move on from her.”

“She knows you too well,” Angelica smiled softly, she had known Martha herself and had seen first hand how devastated Thomas was after her death.

“Yeah, so that’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past few months, but I. Can’t. Flirt,” he fell back dramatically once more.

“God, you’re hopeless,” Angelica said, “Luckily I am here to save you, I am the best wingwoman known to man.”

“I hope you’re right, because being friends with Alex is killing me. Do you know how cute that motherfucker can be?” Thomas told her, “He has these big ass smiles and these little giggles and they are designed to kill me.”

Angelica smiled fondly, slight hurt in her eyes as a different person with the same complaints flashed in front of her eyes.

The bell rang and Angelica quickly got their pizzas before she sat down to form a game plan, which she privately named ‘Plan Jamilton’.

“Okay, so first up, what is a regular day with Alex like? So an office day, but then I don’t have to hear about your boring meetings unless Alex is involved,” she asked.

“I get in, he’s usually in the break room getting coffee, we talk – well, argue, but not mean – about whatever, we work, we eat lunch, then work some more, then I tell him to home if it’s not Tuesday or Friday, because he goes home earlier on those day, because he has to get Philip from school,” Thomas listed, then shrugged: “Meetings are still the same.”

“Huh, is that why I couldn't find him last Tuesday?”

“Yeah, normally Philip gets picked up by one of his Aunts or Un- you know that, sorry,” Thomas cut himself off.

“I know the others pick Philip up from time to time and that Alex hires a babysitter, I didn’t know there was a pattern,” Angelica confessed, “I’m more the fun Aunt that shows up from time to time with presents, Eliza is more the overly involved Aunt, but that’s fair since Philip was in her for nine months.”

“Touche.”

“Anyways, you and Alex seem to talk a few times during the day. Morning and lunch and before he goes home, all good opportunities,” she suggested.

“I’m aware, but then I’d have to know what to say, don’t I, Angie,” Thomas pointed out.

“Alex is a natural flirter, give him a push and he’ll do most of the work.”

“But then what do I do? How do I react to him flirting? That’ll be bad for my soul,” Thomas whined.

“Think of it like banter, you two do it all the time,” Angelica rolled her eyes, “Just maybe make it a bit more suggestive here and there, add innuendos. I think you can manage that.”

“And what if Alex thinks it’s weird or if he’s just doing it because he’s flirty?” Thomas worried, “I mean, you said it yourself that he’s naturally flirty, what if he doesn’t think anything of it and then I am the weird one and he hates me.”

“He’s not going to hate you, you idiot,” Angelica rolled her eyes, “He likes you.”

“What? How do you know that?” Thomas needed answers and he needed them now.

“Technically, I don’t, but-”

“Then you have no ground to stand on and I shouldn’t risk it.”

“Let me talk, Thomas Jefferson,” the full name shut him up, “As I wanted to say: Technically, I don’t know for sure if he likes you, but he has stopped complaining about you and last week he said you might have shit ideas on company policy, but you had great taste in classical writers. He loves classical writers. That’s huge for him.”

“That’s hardly anything, Angie.”

“And Laf asked me what was up between you two,” Angelica played her ace.

“Laf thinks there is something up between us two?” Thomas took the bait as predicted, hopeful puppy eyes that shouldn’t be adorable on a 6’3, grown man.

“Yeah, he said – and I quote – Hm, did you notice anything off between mon petit lionand our dear Thomas, those two seems to be getting closer,non?”

“Your French accent is horrible.”

“Not the focus, Tommy. The focus is that he wiggled his brows about it.”

“He wiggled his brows?”

“Yes, he only does that if he is super certain of his observations or if he knows something. I’m still figuring out which one it is,” Angelica informed him.

“So maybe Alex said something to him?” Thomas suggested.

“Maybe, but you’d have to ask him.”

“I’m not going to ask him.”

“Why not?”

“Because he is a nosy Frenchman, who doesn’t know when to stop meddling and he’ll embarrass me in front of Alex, I’m sure of it,” Thomas whined.

“He’s not that bad, Thomas. Get over yourself,” Angelica told him, taking a bite out of her pizza slice.

“No, one time I told him I was considering celebrating my birthday and he threw me a huge surprise party – granted, it was sweet of him, but also no, not for me – with like a live band and stuff. It was way too much.”

“Okay, so maybe not ask Laf directly,” Angelica conceded.

Thomas eyes suddenly lit up with inspiration and he exclaimed: “You could ask him!”

“No!” Angelica protested immediately.

“Why not?” Thomas was pleading now, “For me.”

“Because then he’ll know for suresomething is up and talk to either you or Alex and then your whole plan will still be ruined,” Angelica explained, “You just need to trust me and flirt with Alex. I swear it will be fine.”

“But what if it isn’t?”

“Then I’ll get you ice cream and chew out Alex,” she promised.

“I hate it when you make a point,” Thomas complained.

“And I hate eating without playing a movie, we both make sacrifices,” Angelica rolled her eyes, completely unimpressed as she took another bite of her pizza, almost as if to make a point.

In the end they did watch a movie. It was a shitty romcom, as promised, and every time someone flirted Angelica rated it and advised for or against the method. Thomas wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle or hug her.

He still didn’t say anything for almost a week and a half, until he found himself in the printer room with Alex.

“Honestly, Thomas, you can’t possibly think that saying a cloud and rain are the same makes any sense,” Alex rolled his eyes, pushing some buttons on the printer.

“No, just think about it, okay? Clouds are water, rain is also water, correct?” Alex grudgingly agreed, “A cloud is basically water floating around until it gets cold and falls, so therefore rain is basically just a cloud falling.”

Alex paused, processing his words, before he said: “Oh my God, shut up.”

“Make me,” Thomas had been so caught up about winning their argument that he hadn’t even thought before letting the slightly suggestive words slip out.

Now they both paused. Thomas looked shocked at his own words and Alex studied him curiously, his eyes scanning him up and down, before he smirked and asked: “Is that a threat or a promise, Tommy? Because you really shouldn’t say things you can’t deliver on.”

Then he grabbed his papers and left Thomas gaping like a fish on dry land as he tried to process the entire interaction.

Alex was internally panicking as he hightailed out of the room, hoping to leave Thomas before the man had gathered his wits again. Sure, Thomas might have started it, but Alex had taken it a level further.

He’d wanted to flirt with Thomas, but they only just started to be friendly. Well, maybe not just, but it wasn’t as if they had stopped being rivals that long ago.

It was just…

It was just that Philip had really liked Thomas, he was still sometimes asking about how Mr. Thomas was doing. And the man had done so much for him on John’s birthday. And he had looked so vulnerable with the email and Alex had never seen that side of him and his stupid crush was developing at an alarming rate. And he didn’t want to acknowledge it or make it real, but…

Butnow he might have made it weird.

Fuck, what was he going to do? Oh, wait, Eliza was picking up Philip today – normally he would do it, but school ended early that day so Eliza had offered – and it was after lunch, so he wouldn’t see Thomas today and he could talk to her and have a plan tomorrow.

With that in mind, he tried to forget about the whole incident and work till the end of the day, losing himself in his work and hoping he wouldn’t run into Thomas.

He left at five on the dot and at half past five he was knocking on Eliza’s door. She opened, but before she could say anything he blurted out: “I flirted with Thomas today. I think he started it, but now I’m thinking it might have been me.”

She blinked, then blinked again, before she pulled him into the house: “Tell me everything. Is this the great Mr. Thomas Philip was telling me about? The one you’ve been crushing on and didn’t tell me and I had to hear about from Herc?”

“Maybe?” he squeaked.

He and Philip ended up eating dinner with her and Maria and afterwards Maria watched a movie with Philip, sending them a knowing look that made Alex blush.

Alex had known Eliza since Freshman year in college. He and her had hit it off right away, even dated for a while, but then John had taken a break from the army to study and- well, they just found they were only dating to prove something to themselves.

The point was Alex told Eliza everything. She’d been the first to know he fancied John, had helped him pick an outfit for their first date, had been there for ring shopping and wedding planning. She had carried Philip for nine months for Pete’s sake.

Yet he had hesitated with telling her about Thomas.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but if he told her it would be real, because telling her made it real and he was scared of this being real.

But now it was going to be real.

It was going to be real because Thomas had said something slightly suggestive and Alex had taken that as a sign to blatantly flirt with the man. It was going to be real, because he was going to tell Eliza.

Fuck.

He started up slowly, hesitating about certain parts, what to say and what not, but in the end the words started to flow out of him like they always did.

Alex told Eliza about how he’d thought Thomas was attractive, but had pushed that down with the personality, but then he’d been nice to Philip and that had stirred something inside him again. He told her about John’s birthday, the endless jokey lunch discussions, Martha’s email, how he the feelings had been building up until he had blurted out his comment that day.

All throughout Eliza just listened and nodded along until his word vomit session was over and he just sat there and breathed.

“It sounds to me,” she began carefully, “like you really like Thomas and that he is a good influence on you. And if I understood correctly, he has proven himself to be willingly involved with Pip. He sounds like a catch, ‘Lexi.”

“He is,” Alex sighed with a smile, then slightly sadder he added, “I just don’t know what to do. I might have scared him off today.”

“Come on, don’t be so deprecating. I knew you in college, you can woo him,” Eliza encouraged him teasingly.

“Wow, thanks, ‘Liza,” he huffed.

“I’m serious, ‘Lexi. You can flirt and you know it, you’re a charmer if you want to be, when you’re not, you know, forcing people to have opinions they need to defend,” she said, “Though, Thomas already knows that, since-” she gestured vaguely, “since you two do that.”

Alex laughed at that, before he turned more serious: “What if I fuck this up, Betsy? What if I do something wrong? What if Pip gets hurt by this? I don’t know how I’d live with myself if this hurts him.”

He only called her Betsy if he was really worried about something.

“Hey, Alexander, look at me,” if he was calling her Betsy, she was pulling out full names, “You’re not going to fuck this up, you just need to be patient for a moment.”

“Have you been hanging around Burr?” Alex groaned.

Eliza rolled her eyes at him: “No and just because you don’t agree with someone doesn’t mean they can’t have a point.”

“He should have points, ‘Liza, that’s the entire point,” Alex told her.

“I am not having this discussion with you right now, we were focusing on something else,” she knew deflection when she saw it, “We were talking about Thomas and you wooing him.”

“What? Do you have a battle plan or something?”

“Of course I have.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

“You could stand to mention it more,” she smiled, “Now, you are flirty, which is great everyone will say that you are. He knows Laf, he’ll ask if he’s curious and Laf is how we keep tabs on him. Trust me, he will come talking if Thomas ever asks him anything like that.”

Alex laughed: “Remember when Herc said he had a date and Laf showed up at the restaurant in a disguise to check on her, because she had ‘weird vibes’?”

Eliza snorted and nodded at the memory, before moving on: “So we have a route of communication, sort of, to tell how the flirting is received. If it’s good, you can ask him out. If not, well, I have ice cream and a shoulder to cry on.”

“Betsy, you are the best of women, honestly. If you weren’t so gay, I’d marry you,” he told her with a grin.

“Like I said, you’re a charmer,” she ruffled his hair, before ushering him and Philip – who had been elated about the later bedtime – out the door while reminding him to tell her everything from now on.

He left with that promise to her and a lighter heart.

The next day started like any other, with Thomas finding Alex in the break room like nothing had happened. For a moment Thomas worried the other was going to pretend that nothing had been said, crumbling his resolve to start flirting today.

“Hi, Alex,” he decided on his normal greeting, just to test the room.

Alex turned and smiled – it was that stupid bright smile that did things to Thomas – then said: “Hi, you’re looking good today? New pants?”

They weren’t new and Thomas knew that Alex knew that, because it was an outfit he’d worn many times. The comment eased some of his anxiety about this as he replied: “No, but glad you’re finally appreciating my impeccable sense of style.”

The eyeroll Alex gave him couldn't have been stopped even if he tried, so he just winked: “Nah, you still dress overly colored. Maybe I can help you find a better sense of style. Those pants would have to come off for that, though.”

Then he sashayed away like he hadn’t left Thomas blushing, pouring coffee over his hand because he wasn’t paying attention to the coffeepot.

And for the next few daysit continued like this. Their arguments that had turned into banter had now turned into flirting.

They were dancing around each other like teenagers afraid to be rejected for prom and the whole office had probably caught onto it. Alex was sure of that with all the looks knowing they were getting.

This was confirmed when Washington made him stay after a meeting in which some flirty comments had slipped into their debate, he raised a brow at Alex and asked: “What happened to the ‘nothing like that, sir’?”

Alex blushed heavily and squeaked: “Back then it wasn’t.”

“So it is like that now?”

“Sir,” it was a whine and Alex would deny it later.

“Alex,” Washington just replied, completely nonplussed.

“Ugh,” Alex groaned, this softly said: “Maybe? Not yet. I don’t know.”

“Well, Thomas is a good man, be kind to him,” Washington told him, a slight warning in his tone, before he got protective, “And be careful with yourself too, son.”

“I’m not-” Alex cut off the standard reply, because it was really not true at this point, so instead he nodded: “I will, thank you, sir.”

Washington send him away with some paperwork and an order not to stay late again and Alex promised he wouldn’t, because he was picking up Philip today and he had promised the kid they could go to a park after school.

Philip was so excited to see him and Alex pushed him on a swing and caught him when he wanted to jump off.

During dinner Philip asked: “How is Mr. Thomas? He was nice, why doesn’t he come around again? He came that one time and you are friends now, right? Why doesn’t he come around like Uncle Herc and Uncle Laf do?”

“It’s a bit complicated, Pip,” Alex said after a moment, “Me and Thomas are friends, but it just never flowed like that.”

“You always says I can change my own path, why can’t you?” God, sometimes Pip was too smart for his own good.

“I’ll see if he wants to come to movie night with your Uncles and Aunties. Does that sound fun?” he might regret this, but the look on Pip’s face was worth it.

He didn’t approach Thomas directly, with all the flirting he didn’t want it to come across as asking for a date. If he was going to ask Thomas, he was going to ask it better than that. Instead he approached Angelica: “Hey, Angie, can I ask you something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“For movie night, I, uhm, well, I wanted to ask Thomas to come, but that’s weird, because it would be me asking, so I wanted to ask if you could invite him to come along?” Alex hoped she would say yes.

Angelica smiled pleasantly and Alex dreaded her answer: “Why is it weird when you do it?”

“Come on, Angie,” Alex whined, “I’m sure you and Eliza gossip about me. You know what this is about. If I ask him out, I’ll do it differently than a group movie night, because Pip wanted to see him again.”

“You’re gonna ask him out?” Angelica asked excitedly.

Alex cursed his stupid mouth and said: “Maybe. It’s still new and stuff, but eventually, yeah, it’s the plan at least. Don’t tell him though, please.”

Angelica cooed: “You are too cute. I won’t tell, don’t worry.”

“Will you ask him?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” maybe there was a bit too much force in the words, but Alex didn’t care.

That Friday Alex was more anxious about movie night than he had any right to be. It was usually hosted at his house so that he could put Pip to bed on time, before they watched non-kid movies, though everyone had a soft spot for the animated movies.

He had checked everything over multiple times and the only thing distracting him was Philip’s latest car parkour.

Herc arrived first, sweeping his nephew into his arms and being a calming enough presence that Alex had relaxed by the time Eliza and Maria along with Peggy showed up.

Then Angelica arrived with Thomas in tow. He greeted Alex awkwardly: “Sorry, is this okay? Angie said it was, but I don’t want to intrude.”

Luckily Alex didn’t have to answer, because Philip came running: “Mr. Thomas! Mr. Thomas, I have started keeping my drawings in this book and it’s already pretty full, do you want to see? We’re going to watch Mulantonight? Have you seen Mulanbefore? Did you like it?”

Thomas smiled: “Hey, kiddo, how about one question at a time? I’d love to see your drawings.”

Philip cheered and dragged Thomas away, who send Alex an apologetic look, though Alex didn’t mind having the pressure of him. He was distracted by Angelica: “That went well.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you dork, it’s going fine,” Angelica assured him, “Now, I want something to drink. Do you have popcorn?”

Lafayette arrived last. By the time he came knocking they had all the snacks set out and the movie was waiting. He bustled in: “Bonjour, Bonjour, sorry I’m late. There was traffic and I was sleeping.”

“Uncle Laf!” Philip was off the couch and at Laf’s side in seconds, these nights would always make him excited enough that he dropped off early.

“Ah, mon petit neveu, how are you?” Laf hugged him tightly.

Philip babbled excitedly: “I’m going to become an artist. I showed Mr. Thomas my drawing book and he says they’re really good and my teacher says so as well.”

“Mr. Thomas?” Laf asked, he hadn’t been around often lately with his job keeping him busy and traveling. He had seen something was up, but he hadn’t gotten the note that the two were doing something about it and he hadn’t heard Philip about it yet either.

From the couch Thomas spoke up: “Hi, Lafayette. How was your week? Heard they needed you back in Paris?”

“Thomas! What une surprise!” Laf said and they had a conversation, which was more an interrogation how he’d ended up here. Alex saved Thomas by telling the nosy Frenchman that they were worked together on his financial plan and Thomas was not so bad ‘yes, Laf just like you said, I know.’

Movie night went great, they watched Mulan first and Philip kept asking Thomas questions throughout the entire movie, which Thomas answered dutifully. This amused the other adults greatly.

By the end the excitement had died down and Philip was nodding off. Alex left Eliza in charge of refilling the snacks, while he got Pip ready for bed.

When he got back the only spot left was right next to Thomas, he suppressed an eyeroll at his friends antics and sat down, knowing Laf would be all over this when the night was over. But for now he didn’t care.

He and Thomas had watched movies together before, albeit under different circumstances, but it was nothing new. Though he had forgotten how warm Thomas was and – now that he thought about it – he was kind of tired.

Slowly he slid sidewards throughout their viewing of The Patriotuntil he was leaning on Thomas’s shoulder, fighting to keep his eyes open. In the distance he felt something shift and the he slid further, a warm arm resting over him before he drifted off completely.

When he awoke it was dark and he was tucked in on the couch, cold and alone.

He sat up in confusion until his eye fell on a note in a familiar cursive handwriting that was too pretty to belong to someone in this century. It read: You fell asleep. We thought it better to let you be. Thanks for inviting me, I had fun. Sleep tight. x, T.

And honestly that little ‘x’ shouldn’t have made Alex blush. He looked up to a picture of John and whispered: “My dear Laurens, I think I’ve fallen in too deep already.”

The picture didn’t reply, instead John’s smiling face stayed static, but Alex still found it comforting to have John looking at him with something akin to encouragement. John would want him to be happy, he had always tried to do what he thought to be best for Alex, for Pip.

“You’re right, Jacky, I shouldn’t be dancing around this,” he said, “It’s just hard. And I’m scared,” he huffed a laugh, “Isn’t that ironic? After everything I’ve been through the great Alexander Hamilton is scared of asking someone on a date.”

He paused for a moment then said: “Don’t look at me like that, you asked me on our first date, you rash motherfucker. Don’t think I’ve forgotten you springing it on me when I was almost collapsing after finishing a paper. I got you with marriage, though, so even-Steven.”

It was comforting to talk to a picture of John, it was different when talking to his grave, less heavy when not surrounded by stones. Was it probably slightly strange? Yes. But Alex had been strange his entire life.

“Maybe I should be a bit rash for once, pick up your slack,” he told John, ignoring that his friends always said that they were both too rash and it was bad for their health that the two of them got along so well, “I think I’m doing it.”

That weekend he made a plan, had to double check something with Philip and worry-rant at Eliza, she was a great listener, he truly loved her.

Then Monday morning it was time, God he was nervous as he waited at Thomas’s office, where the man usually dropped his stuff before starting his day.

“Hey, uhm, this might be weird, but Pip told me about the vase in your office and if I remember correctly it was empty Friday, so I got you these,” Alex held up a bouquet of purple flowers, “It’s- they’re cornflowers, I hope I remembered correctly.”

Thomas took them, a bit stunned, his eyes slightly sparkling.

“I looked up their meaning. They mean ‘delicacy’, but also ‘be gentle with me’ and I thought that very fitting, because you’re – this is sound weird – but you’re very cute in an ‘I want to protect you’-way,” Alex was stumbling over his words, “But it’s also a request – the ‘be gentle with me’-part, I mean –because-” he swallowed and hesitated, “Well, you see, I- I was wondering if you- you would like to go on a- uhm, on a date. With me. This Friday. If you want. You don’t have to of course, maybe I’ve read this whole thing wrong and that’s fine, but if you do want to then I’ll be happy- more than happy, actually-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I’d love to go on a date with you this Friday,” Thomas told him, blush coloring his cheeks and a bashful smile tugging on his lips.

Alex grinned the grin that did things to Thomas as he replied: “That’s- Yeah, great, I- uhm, I’ll text you details?”

“Yeah, okay. Then I’ll go put these in water. Thank you, Alex, they’re beautiful,” Thomas walked away, flowers in hand, planning to yell at Angelica through the phone.

Bit of a more lighthearted chapter after all the grief and angst lmao

Also, always lovely when I get to the part of ‘and now they flirt’ only to realize that I do not know how to flirt and I have no clue how to write it. Ooof. So shout out to time skips xp

Side note: this → “well, they just found they were only dating to prove something to themselves.” is not invalidating the fact that Alex is bi, just that Eliza wanted to prove to herself that she wasn’t a raging homosexual while Alex wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t in love with John.

Also I thought it was very funny that they thought to use Laf to keep track of the other, only for both to tell him absolutely nothing

#RR writing #tw: grief mention #Alexander Hamilton #Hamilton #Hamilton AU #Jamilton #thomas jefferson #angelica schuyler #eliza schuyler #Philip Hamilton #Lafayette #marquis de lafayette #george washington #'Till Death Do Us Part #'Till Death Do Us Part Part 4 #'Till Death Do Us Part AU

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