#the bathrobe idea came from literally all of my friends being like ‘you should give sink a lil animal bathrobe!’

[dr4cking]

His Mother’s Garden.

masterlist taglist

draco malfoy x reader | smut | enemies to lovers

a/n : this is so random bye :”

"y/n, come down here for a minute, darling. i have something to tell you" y/n sighed slowly getting up from her lovely bed as she heard her mom called her to come downstairs.

"yes, mother?" her mom greeted y/n with a big smile while her father sitting on the couch, y/n feels like she was going to be interrogated, she grabbed a bottle of water and drink.

"sweetie go pack your stuff and dress nicely, we're going to stay at Malfoy Manor for 3 days." she felt as if her breath got taken away somewhere when she choked on the water, her mother worriedly run to her and smack her back.

"pardon me, mother. but i think i've misheard about what you just said" y/n's mother just chuckled at her daughter's reaction.

"no darling, you heard it right, we're going to stay at their place"

"but why so sudden, mother? you know i hate their son" y/n whines loudly thinking about how awkward it is to spend the day with the malfoys.

"well i met narcissa earlier in gringgots, its been so so long, you know we're very close when we were young, and your dad here is working at the ministry with lucius malfoy too, darling. so we really have to catch up" her mother explained it with her bubbly energy, she did tell y/n how she and narcissa were basically best friends in their time.

"but why do we have to literally stay there? we could've just hung out there and then go back home" y/n frowns, taking a seat beside her father.

"of course not, narcissa is the one who suggested the idea and it would be rude of me to reject it, now dont be a baby and do as i say its only for three days, honey. this is the end of the discussion or we're gonna be late" her mother cupped her cheeks smiling so wide and give her a little kiss on her right cheek before taking her hand and shoved her to go back to her room.

she goes to her room, started to packing while blabbering about her mother, she picked a pleated skirt and putting on a knit sweater, she put on a light makeup and grabbed her sneakers, she doesnt want to dress up so much because she didnt want to go in the first place.

she takes her bag with her going downstairs seeing her parents already waiting at the front door, she huffed.

——————————————

"ah, finally the (your surname)'s here! y/m/n, who is this lovely lady, is this y/n? oh my god, you've grown up" narcissa said as she hugs y/n after she hugged her mother greeting her family, y/n smiles and nod turning the gesture politely.

"lucius, draco! hurry, come here."

both of the platinum blonde-haired men appeared at the door, lucius greet y/n's father, giving y/n a small nod, but draco stayed behind his parents, just looking up and down at y/n smirking making her rolled her eyes at him.

the malfoys lead her family in, showing their room for their stay, the house elves taking their things. as y/n wanted to follow her parents, a hand grabbed her wrist stopping her steps.

she looks up only to meet the boy she loathed so much in their school. draco lucius malfoy.

"not so fast y/l/n" draco pulled her closer, a smirk still plastered on his lips.

"get your filthy hand off of me, ferret. i’m not in the mood." y/n snickered yanking her hand back.

"ooo, feisty. listen y/n, i just want to make a peace for awhile. at least can we try to be civil? i dont want to ruin our parent's moment, and besides that, you're staying in my house, i dont want it to be awkward." draco rubbed the back of his neck staring at her.

"ugh fine, whatever draco" y/n turns and run to follow her parents not wanting to talk to draco for any longer, leaving draco behind who just rolled his eyes at her behavior.

the day goes on so fast, their parents talked and chatted all day, leaving draco and y/n no choice but just to listened and joined their conversation, they both wonder if their parents ever get tired, as the night finally came, everyone already going to their rooms.

y/n wake up from her sleep groaning, she took a look at the clock, it was 2 am.

she rubbed her eyes, her throat feels so dry, she decided to go downstairs to grab a drink before going back to sleep.

"what are you doing at this hour, y/n?" y/n turns around from the refrigerator finding draco who stood behind her with his grey sweatpants. merlin's beard, he looks hot.

"cant you see im drinking, idiot"

y/n close the refrigerator and started to walk back to her room wanting to avoid draco as fast as she can but she only made three steps before draco pushed her against the refrigerator trapping her making y/n let out a squeal.

"you’ve got a big mouth, dont you sweet thing?" draco smirk seeing her flushed face, he pressed his body closer to her making her cheeks heated.

"d-draco i-"

"sshh, cat got your tongue now, hm?" draco rubbed his thumb on her bottom lip, tugging at it making y/n shivered at his touch.

"oh i see you like this, yeah?" draco leans into the crook of her neck, his hot breaths against her neck got y/n to rub her thighs together and draco placed his knee between them keeping her thighs apart.

he starts to pressed kisses along her neck causing her breath hitched, her panties are dampen when she takes a look at his lower part and his hard on brushed against her heat, she let out a soft moan and quickly pushed draco away from her.

"i- i should go" y/n runs to her room, cursing herself, draco behind her just chuckled deeply, satisfied at her reaction, but now he got some problem to take care of.

the next day came, y/n didnt get so much sleep after her last interaction with draco, just thinking about it makes a blush appeared on her cheeks, she threw away the thought of touching herself last night.

she quickly made her way to the bathroom and took a shower.

she just finished showering, putting on a bathrobe and letting off the towel on her head, but as she looked at the mirror, she screamed.

why is her hair green?!

only one name crossed her mind, she runs downstairs to get her target with anger bubbling up inside her.

"draco lucius malfoy! you better come back here! turn my fucking hair back to its color!" y/n yelled, running as fast as she can, catching draco who already ran away from her, without stopping his laughter.

"dont worry y/n, you look good with g-green" draco was panting heavily still laughing, he was still running but stopped at his mother's garden hiding behind it, hoping that y/n didnt catch him here. a smile never leaving his face.

but before draco could react more, he got tackled to the ground, y/n was hovering above him, her wand on his throat, threatening him.

she keeps talking but all he could think about was how hot y/n look on top of him, her new hair color still wet enough to drip the water down to his face, her top of the robe is low enough to show him her cleavage.

he quickly made his eyes back up to her, he would lie if he said this didnt turn him on.

"draco did you hear what i said? turn my hair color back!" y/n pushed his chest back down but her face redden as she realizes what was she doing right now, she quickly gets off of draco but only to be flipped over by him.

y/n was about to say something but got cut off by draco silencing her mouth with a kiss, he kissed her harshly, y/n was still in shock but not for long she melted into the kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck deepening the kiss, they're practically swallowing each other faces, tongues fighting over the dominance, moans coming off from their lips without breaking the kiss.

memories of last night coming back to their minds.

"fuck- you're so fucking hot. do you want this y/n?" draco said as he pulled away, breathing heavily.

"yes, yes please, draco" with that, draco attached his lips to her neck, sucking and biting making a mark of his.

y/n rolled her hips on his crotch grinding against him making him let out a soft grunt, he pulls away to admire his work and he goes to untie her robe but not before he asked her permission, she nodded vigorously.

draco untied her robe making her body fully exposed in front of him, he moaned softly at the view and his lips instantly latching onto her nipple sucking and pulling it between his teeth softly making the girl squirmed. his other hand grabbed her breast squeezing it, he was amazed at how her breast fit perfectly in his hand.

y/n tugged at his shirt signaling she wants it off, draco gets the hint and takes it off, she pulled his sweatpants down making his hard cock slapped up to his stomach. she whimpered at his size wondering if it gonna fits in her.

draco groaned at the feeling of her hand pumping his cock up and down, her thumb playing at his red swollen tip, precum already oozing out of it. he stopped her hand before he cums right there.

he spreads her legs wider making the perfect view of her glistening cunt in front of him, he licks his lip, started to kiss her thighs before going to her core making her body jolted out.

"draco.. please, do something" draco smirk, he loves how he gets y/n to beg him, she sounds so hot, begging suited her.

he licked up her slit before sucking on her clit, he moaned at her taste, sending vibrations to her body, y/n gripped his hair tightly moaning his name over and over again as draco's tongue thrusting in and out of her hole.

he then inserts two fingers in her and pumping them inside of her fast, curling them inside, his tongue still licking her cunt lapping up her juices, y/n already a moaning mess.

"yes! draco right there! right fucking there.. oh god im gonna-"

of course.

of course he pulled out, right before y/n could ever reach her high leaving her whining and glared at him in anger, draco chuckles looking at her face.

"stop being so fucking greedy, y/n. you only allowed to cum when my cock is buried deep inside you" draco pumps his cock tapping it against her cunt, lining his tip up and down at her clit, y/n gets impatient but draco pushed her hips down to stop her from moving.

he slowly pushed in his entire length inside her, both of them cant help but moaning each other’s name out loud, inch by inch filling her inside. draco stopped to let her adjust as he fully inside her. he wants her to feel every part of him. y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, nodding at him to move.

"god- you're so tight y/n, i cant barely move. do you know how long i've been wanting to have you under me" draco's breath tickling her neck as he buried his face on her neck, slowly picking up his pace as he thrusts in and out of her.

"yes- fuck.. harder draco i want it rough and fast, please" draco was shocked at how y/n think her tight little pussy could take him rough and fast, but he obeyed anyway.

he grabbed her legs, putting them on his shoulder and begin to thrusting harder, rough and fast like she wanted making her cried out at the angle.

"fuck! you're such a slut y/n, letting me fuck you senseless in my mother's garden, dont you scared at the thought of getting caught, hm? oh i bet you would love that, right?" y/n only could mutter a low 'yes' as draco keep pounding at inhumanly pace making her whole body shake.

"what is it? i cannot hear you, my little slut" draco gripped her throat with his hand, pressing their foreheads together as he stared deeply into her soul not even stopping his thrusts.

"y- yes draco im your slut, i'd love tha- g- god please.."

"stop stuttering." draco's hand move down to twirling her nipples in his fingers and pinch them lightly making her yelp.

"draco?"

draco and y/n stopped their activities for a minute, staring at each other in horror, draco smirk down at her while she stared at him in confusion.

he starts to move again, snapping his hips harder, making y/n gasped, he quickly put his hand over her mouth. draco was thankful that the bushes hiding their ungodly activities perfectly.

"yes, mother?" draco said casually as if nothing was happening right now, he quickens his thrust, going deeper and harder into her while a tear rolled down on y/n's face at the feeling of the knot in her stomach tighten and she had to hold her moans.

"what are you doing there, draco?" narcissa asked as she cant found her son anywhere, only hearing his voice.

"im doing some school stuff mother, i'll be quick and head inside" draco answers holding his moans between his words feeling he would cum any sooner, he hoped his mother take the hint and leave already.

like draco expected, narcissa gives him an 'okay' before going back inside the manor but not without the hesitation in her voice but she left anyway.

"fuck.. you almost got us caught y/n" draco chuckles as his hand left her mouth, a loud moan suddenly escaped her lips.

"you're insane draco, why didnt you s- stop- oh my god.. gonna cum"

y/n cried out she cant even finishing her sentence as draco brings his hand down on her clit, rubbing in circles, getting her closer to her high, his other hand going back to choking her, he leaned in to capture her lips to hold his own high, he wanted her to cum first.

and within seconds, y/n came undone, it hit her hard causing her legs to shake, her eyes screwed shut seeing the stars all she could remember was his name when she moaned it out loud.

draco look down at his cock covered with her juices milking him, he moaned loudly and with the last thrust he collapsed on her, spurting out all of his warm thick cum inside her, painting her walls white making the girl moaned too feeling so full.

he moaned her name into her ear sending butterflies to her stomach as he rides out their orgasms. draco pulled out slowly making y/n winced, their mixed liquids dripping down to their inner thighs.

"merlin. that was so fucking hot, y/n" draco said reconnecting their lips, kissing her with passion and emotion this time.

"that was more than being civil, draco" y/n laughs making draco join her laughter too. he starts to dressed himself back up.

"there i thought we were enemies" draco said as he cleaned her up and tying her bathrobe back.

"oh we are, i still hate you" y/n poked his cheek making draco laughed.

"didnt seem like it 5 minutes ago" draco said as he captures her lips on his again as he finished cleaning her.

"round 2 in my room tonight?" draco asks as he pulled away. y/n smirked at him.

"only if you turn my hair color back" and he pulls out his wand from his pocket and swished it turning her hair back to its natural color.

both of them heading back to the manor, feeling excited and new. they stopped at their parents already waiting for them to show up in the living room with a mix expressions worn on their faces making draco and y/n blushed madly.

"im glad we decided to stay." y/n's mother breaking the silence making the room filled with laughter.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

tagging : @dracoscum :( @hellounicorn @onyourgoddamnleft @whoreforgeorgeandfred @turn-to-page-394-please @youreso-golden @dracmalf0y-dm @f4iryluvy @arzfia @slut4dracoo @alexthealexthealex

[votederpycausemufins]

Another chapter of Surprisingly Familiar. Time to write for Grifter again!!!

hermit Tommy au is by @petrichormeraki and @helleborusangel gets tagged in my writing because I can.

Grian groaned as he woke up. It sounded like someone was up pretty early, and based on the fact that he seemed to be the only one in bed, he had a guess as to who it was. He was too tired to look at the time, but either way it was supposed to be the weekend and he wasn’t awake enough to be his normal wake up.

“What’re you doing?” Grian asked tiredly, wrapping himself in the covers more. “Come back to bed. ‘M feelin’ cold.”

Grian was glad to hear footsteps, but then realized they didn’t sound right. He turned in bed to face the source before opening his eyes and then finding himself face to face with the minimalist image of a face with a mustache.

Grian tried to jump back, but that was hard due to still being in bed. He still moved back some, and was able to see the image seemed to belong to a screen that was attached to a robot. “Dad! He’s awake now! I think I scawed him a wittwe!”

Grian didn’t pay attention to any answer as he looked around the room. He was in a large fancy king sized bed in a room that matched it. In other words, this was not his normal bedroom. Grian tried to get up out of the bed, but the robot pushed him back down, being much stronger than him despite being smaller.

As the robot’s hand kept him in bed, Grian started struggling, trying to find some way to escape. He wasn’t going to let himself be stuck in a place like this. If he just had something to use against the robot, maybe he could get out, but his punches and kicks did nothing except leave himself in pain.

“Stowp stwuggwing. You’we gonna huwt youwself awnd Dad’s nowt gonna wike thawt at aww.”

That just made Grian struggle harder. “Well I don’t care! I’d rather not be kidnapped and want to go home. If you want I could just scream bloody murder until someone shows up!”

“Thawt pwobabwy won’t work.”

“What, is that normal here?” Grian asked jokingly, but then was disappointed to see the robot nod. “Oh course it is.”

“If uwu don’t twy weaving, I’m gonna get my Dad. Awnd even if uwu twy, Seftew’s pwobabwy going tuwu stowp uwu.”

“Lovely.” Grian deadpanned, and then the robot left. Despite the warning, Grian still tried to leave, but found his escape blocked by another similar robot, though it was different enough that it couldn’t be the first one again. When it saw Grian, it stared him down until he reluctantly went back to the bed and sat there pouting.

He had to wait a bit while sitting there, lying back down at one point, but eventually the door opened again. Instead of the heavy metallic footsteps of the robot, they sounded much more like a human’s. They cleared their throat to get Grian’s attention, but he wasn’t really in a hurry to give them that. “So, mind telling me what you kidnapped me for?”

“You’re the one who was napping.” The person replied, and Grian’s eyes widened before he sat up. Standing there was himself, well, their face was definitely his. They seemed to be a few inches taller, red sweater replaced by a green tunic shirt, and black wings just barely visible folded up behind their back. “I was just trying to help.”

“What- but- why do you look like-” Grian fumbled out, mind trying to wrap around what he was seeing. “Dad?”

There was silence before the person held in some laughter, well, tried and failed. “No. No I’m definitely not dad. Absolutely not. I mean you’re close I guess, but he’s more blond than mousy brown.”

“But you look like him!” Grian argued. “I mean, he wore green a lot, and he’s got black wings. Wait are you related to him?”

“Yeah. Let’s see. I’ve got a dad and mum, one of which is literally death, I’m a triplet with two brothers, and then we’ve got a younger brother who was really little when I went missing from the rest of my family at the age of seven, living at a high school with a pair of friends, if you can call them that, and just trying to survive.”

“But that’s-” Grian started, before getting cut off.

“The same as you, right?” The person asked, sitting down on the bed. “And the answer of why should be obvious.”

“Are you…? Are you me? Like, me but older and from another dimension or something.”

“Or something. It’s a bit complicated with everything that happened.”

“Okay. And you’ve got robots. Why do they have mustaches?”

“To match their dad.” The person replied.

Grian’s eyes widened. “Wait, Taurtis has a mustache?!”

The other person’s eyes widened. “No. It’s not- I’m not with- Taurtis is…”

“What do you mean you’re not with Taurtis?” Grian asked, now very confused. “Did you break up or something? Or I guess did we break up… this is weird.”

“No. I didn’t break up with him. I… I didn’t want to… he was just…” the other person said, face falling. “When he stopped mo-“ and they cut themselves off. “Ignore that.”

“Were you- is… is Taurtis dead?”

“Uh, no. No he’s not dead. Just…”

“Oh my god…” Grian said, slumping down. “Taurtis…. Taurtis is… h-how did he…?” The person didn’t answer. “What happened to your Taurtis?”

“He and… and my Sam. Well we found something we shouldn’t have, and then I was the one to leave.”

Grian didn’t say anything else, just stayed silent. On one hand, this meant Sam was dead too, so he wouldn’t be causing any problems. But Taurtis. Taurtis was gone and he wasn’t coming back. Wouldn’t come back. Why had he even come to a future as horrible as this? But then he had a thought. “What happened to Taurtis?”

The other him was briefly taken aback by the suddenly serious tone. “I said. Essentially we messed with higher beings that shouldn’t be messed with.”

“Then what.”

“Well, they wanted one of us for something, but they didn’t tell us who or for what. Next thing I know, I’ve got blood on my hands and the other two are dead. I didn’t really get to do anything before I was dragged away.”

Grian nodded, completely quiet. The other Grian almost said something, but the look he was given stopped that. “That didn’t happen yet for me. If I get back, I can stop that, right?”

The other Grian blinked. “I mean, I’m not sure if it would work that way. I mean, I don’t remember getting pulled into the future when I was still in high school.”

“So it could work.”

“If we can get you back to that time, yeah, probably. But that’s if it will even work. I mean, since then I’ve learned magic, but I’ve never been able to really go back in time like that.”

“Well, maybe I should stay with you a bit longer, at least so I could have a chance by knowing what’s supposed to happen.” Grian said, trying to cling onto some sort of hope.” And you wouldn’t lie about it to make me feel better, right?”

“Hey, would I lie to me?” The other Grian said, sounding as genuine as he could muster. “Telling you about it is nicer than actually going through it, so of course I’ll tell you.”

“Thanks. So uh, where are we by the way?” Grian asked, looking around the room.

“We’re sort of in my castle.” Grifter replied. “Welcome to the NSMP!”

.

.

.

Tommy was woken up by someone shaking him awake. He groaned a little, wishing he could stay in bed a bit more, but then he recognized the hands. “Grum? What’s up?”

“Dad’s been kidnapped.” Grum responded, panic in his voice. “I-It was Grifter. He was here and we didn’t know, and now he took Dad away. And then everyone started arguing and you weren’t around so I came looking for you.”

Tommy pulled himself out of bed the rest of the way. “Where’s Jrum? Why isn’t he here too?”

“He’s still with Daddy. He went to get Kokatori, which I think is good since I guess he’s warming up to them.” Grum explained, and Tommy nodded, pulling out his comm and looking at the messages in chat.

“Hey, why the fuck is Grian’s old name in there?” Tommy asked, making Grum shrug. “Well that’s not fucking good. Where’s everyone at?”

“Still over where the party was unless they’ve moved since then.” Grum answered.

“Alright, here, hold this.” Tommy said before putting Tubbee in Grum’s arms and then slinging the robot over his shoulder. “Let’s see if people will tell us shit about what’s going on. Can you message them that we’re on our way?”

Grum said yes and a few moments later Tommy felt his comm buzz, followed by Tubbee buzzing in response and Grum giggling at that. Good. With whatever was going on, it was a good idea to keep traumatized kids distracted. Tommy definitely didn’t know that from experience.

A quick trek through the nether got them back to Aque Town, where everyone was in a bit of a crowd. Tommy set Grum down on a bench nearby before pushing his way through the crowd, though most of the Hermits didn’t really need to pushed aside to let him through, doing it willingly. When he finally reached the center, he frowned upon seeing the group in the middle.

Xisuma and Mumbo were there of course since it involved Grian. Phil and Paul were also there, arguing a bit. Then, there was also someone Tommy didn’t recognize at all, who seemed to just be standing there awkwardly. “Hey, you in the bathrobe. What the fuck’s going on around here?”

Xisuma and Phil each tried to give some sort of explanation to Tommy, but he just stopped them. “Hey! I asked shower boy, not you shits. Obviously he’s important if he’s right here, but no one’s really dealing with him, so you go back to yelling while I give him something to do.”

“We weren’t fucking yelling-” Phil started to say, but then Tommy shushed him.

“Alright, what do you think happened?” Tommy asked the guy in the robe.

“Well, I was asked here by King Soares for some task. I met the local hedgewizard and we proceeded to have a magic duel. To make a long story short, I defended against an attack, the hedgewizard tried to stop my attack, and a Watcher intervened which seemed to cause some sort of issue with the Listener and now he’s gone.”

“Wait, you think Grian was a Listener?” Mumbo spoke up, making the robe man nod.

“Of course. The magic was coming from his direction and matched his magical signature well.”

“Alright, so this is all Grifter’s fault.” Tommy spoke up. “Grifter is like… an evil alternate version of Grian. Grian’s a Watcher while Grifter’s a Listener.”

The hooded man’s eyes widened and he nodded in understanding. To the side, Paul pushed away from Phil. “Wait, this whole time Grian was one of the Watchers here?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. His kids are too.” And that seemed to shock Paul more as he went to sit on the ground rather than stand, not trusting his legs.

Before anyone else in the group could say anything, Jrum ran in, holding Kokatori above his head. “The chicken doesn’t know anything which I think is weird!”

“Why the fuck would the chicken know anything?” Tommy asked, a bit confused.

“Because it’s not a chicken.” Phil was the one to speak up, Paul nodding to agree. “The question is how it even got here in the first place, because while it might not know what happened with Grian, any information it’s got could help.”

“You’re not seriously suggesting we interrogate a chicken, right?” Tommy asked, but the serious looks that Paul and Phil and even the magic guy’s faces told him otherwise. “How do you even do that?”

Paul stood back up and cracked his neck, which seemed to actually scare Kokatori. “I’ve got a couple options.” The chicken struggled a bit in Jrum’s arms before Paul grabbed its neck and pulled it out of the bot’s arms. “You want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

The chicken struggled a bit more before hissing and then shooting something out of its beak. That caught a number of people off guard, but not Paul, even though what vaguely resembled a dart had stuck itself into his neck. “This isn’t gonna get any easier for you. It’s almost night and I think training some kids for their interrogation badges could be a good way to pass the time. Torture too if they don’t have them yet.”

“I’m sorry, do you mean badges as in…?” Tommy asked, trailing off.

“He means boy scouts, yeah.” Cleo was the one to answer, which surprised Tommy. “He’s sort of an honorary troop leader for them.”

“Yeah, the kids love me.” Paul chuckled, then looked around. “By the way, does anyone have any milk? I’m losing feeling in my legs.”

Hoodie went to Paul’s side a moment later and cast a spell, making everyone notice that he had gotten a bit pale after the chicken, or whatever it was, attacked him. “So, If I may ask, what exactly is this creature?” Xisuma spoke up, worried about whatever it was being on his server.

“Cockatrice.” Paul replied. “Belongs to someone I know.”

“I’m guessing that they’re not really a friend of yours, huh?” Tommy asked, earning a nod from the man.

“Yeah. Kokatori’s his main ‘chicken’, which makes it more odd that they’re all the way out here and not with him. How long have they been around Grian?”

“Maybe about two weeks.” Mumbo answered. “Everything was a bit of a mess around here recently. Grum and Jrum got stranded in another world and we had a number of issues getting them back. Somewhere near the end of all that, this chicken, or I guess, this cockatrice, showed up.”

“Good to know. Anyone got questions they want answered?”

“Well, I would say ‘where’s Grian’, but if Grifter is involved, he’s likely in Helscraft.” Mumbo responded. “It still would be nice to know why, though.”

Paul nodded and looked back to the mob. “Well, you heard him. What’s the answer?” And he glared at the cockatrice, which gave a feeble chirp of sorts. “Wrong answer, try again.”

“Wait, you understand it?” Tommy asked, making Paul nod. “How?”

“Deal with them as long as I have and you pick up some things. So, what’s the answer?” And again the cockatrice gave a feeble cluck, though this time with a hiss. “Last chance.” Another hiss, and then Paul sighed. “Alright, so somehow it doesn’t know. Koka was just ordered to keep an eye on this place, so they don’t know what’s going on with Grian.”

“What do you know then?” Tommy asked, getting closer to the mob. “Because I bet you’re not completely fucking clueless.”

Paul nodded. “Nice and to the point, I like it.” The cockatrice clucked and hissed a bit. “Alright, it noticed Grifter lurking around a little bit, but didn’t see him actually doing much because it was around, guess he doesn’t like chickens. Anyway, he was trying to get Grian for something, but for what they don’t know, just something.”

“Well, that’s better than nothing I guess.” Tommy said, and then there were more noises from the cockatrice. “What did that bitch say now?”

“Stuff about Punchwood.” Paul said, a dark look on his face.

“Who the fuck is Punchwood?”

Paul looked up. “You’ve been calling them hels versions? Well, I’m pretty sure he’s mine. I’ve known about him for a long time. He likes to send chickens to spy on me and others and I’ve had to make excuses about him showing up more than once. Technically people know me by either Paul Soares or Pablo Punchwood. That’s because he showed up and made a mess of things. Since then I’ve used the name Pablo Punchwood as a sort of alternate name, and so everyone assumes that the first Pablo to show up was me doing an editing gag as a promotional piece.”

“So your hels version is making a mess out of things?” Phil was the one to speak up this time. “Wait, I half met mine not too long ago and he was death instead of Kristen. Does that mean-” Paul nodded. “Well shit.”

“Well, if we end up dealing with him, we’re gonna need to get prepped.” Paul said, finally letting Kokatori go. It didn’t have freedom for too long though, as almost immediately Jrum grabbed it again. “Phil, Doc and Wels can lead a number of teams to get properly prepped. While I’m sure a number of you can prep well on your own, I don’t really trust you with a team.”

“Hey! That’s- You know that’s fair.” Bdubs was the one to speak up.

“Hoodie, while I’m sure your magic would be helpful, I know we’re going to need it to help Grian and it would also be good to keep this place safe. If anything happens, you have a way to contact us of course.”

“Then I will do what I can to assist those staying behind, sir.”

“Why the fuck do we need to prep?” Tommy spoke up, making people turn to him. “He’s in Helscraft. We know enough people there that are on our side, and more that while they’re not on our side, they hate Grifter more, and right now he’s the problem. Let’s just get over there first before we try figuring things out, especially since they could help us get gear.”

“Tommy, it’s not that simple.” Phil was the one to speak up, but was then cut off again.

“Why not? We just showed up there last time and we were fine.”

“Yeah, because we weren’t going in there alone and weren’t dealing with Grian’s Hels version. I think you saw what he did to the SMP.”

Tommy frowned. “Yeah, because we didn’t know he was gonna show up, but now we do. And sure, we still might need to prepare or whatever, but the more time we take to do that, the more time he has to do whatever the fuck he’s up to.”

“Tommy.” Xisuma was the one to speak up this time. “While I know the past few hours, Paul hasn’t seemed the most trustworthy, the other hermits seem to trust him and he does know what’s going on. None of us know exactly what’s going on here, so preparing in advance for anything is going to be our best bet.”

“I don’t want to waste any fucking time preparing for something that might not even happen!”

“Then let’s try and make it quicker.” Paul spoke up, looking up at the sky where the moon was rising. He put two fingers in his mouth and let out a large sharp whistle. At first, nothing happened, but then there was suddenly a crowd of baby zombies coming over to the group of hermits. A number of the hermits pulled out weapons, ready to fight, Phil also getting out a sword of his own, but Paul just stepped closer to the crowd of zombies and knelt down in front of the one at the front of the group. “Hey Bub.”

“Heya Mister!” The zombie spoke, which caught a few of the hermits off guard. “What’s going on?”

“Well first of all, I heard you got a new member related to Cleo here.” Paul said, gesturing to the zombified hermit.

“Oh yes! He’s already doing a lot! We’re even scheduled to go on a week-long trip to a scout camp to earn plenty of badges and he’s signed up for seven badges!”

Paul chuckled. “Good for him. Say, I’m sure plenty of you guys have your badges already, but I’m dealing with Punchwood again and I’ve got some friends that need to properly gear up.” He said, gesturing to the hermits.

The baby zombie nodded. “Say no more Mister Soares sir! As long as you sign our blue cards, we’re happy to help!”

“Alright.” Paul said, standing back up. “Let’s get to work.”

.

.

.

Perfect Sense looked back and forth between Grifter and the shorter, more angry looking copy of him that was standing to the side. “What. The hell. Is this? I though-!”

Before Sense could say more, Grifter started pulling him into another room. “If you want to shout, let’s go to another room before you accidentally scare someone!”

Sense sputtered at the accusation. “Accidentally scare someone? I wouldn’t do that!” He got out before the door shut behind him and viridian magic appeared around it. “It’s always on purpose!”

Grifter grabbed Sense’s tie and pulled him down into a kiss. “Oh I know, but Grian doesn’t know that.”

Sense looked back to the door. “So that was him. Why is he here and not locked up like he was supposed to be, hmm? You’re just letting him stand there, completely conscious, nothing stopping him from using magic.”

Grifter rocked on his feet. “Well, he actually can’t use magic because he doesn’t know he has any.”

“What.”

Grifter stopped rocking to look Sense in the eye. “Okay, so I know the plan was to kidnap and trap him, and we still might do that. But stuff happened.”

“And by stuff… you mean?”

“Okay so I get there and they’re having a party for their Grifect because it’s his birthday or something. I think it’s perfect to kidnap him from because the chaos will hide his disappearance. And then I run into a chicken.”

Sense facepalmed. “Oh dear lord, tell me you didn’t.”

“I didn’t! I just hid, no screaming. And that definitely wasn’t a normal chicken. Those eyes weren’t right. But anyway, then I moved and then I saw Punch!” Grifter said, shouting a bit. Sense also was surprised, but before he could comment, Grifter continued. “Apparently it was actually his wels counterpart, which is so much better, and then he messed with things so I couldn’t get Grian because then the chicken was watching him. And that thing scaled a fucking building, it’s not a normal chicken. I mean it’s worse than a blucker.”

“A-alright.” Sense said, just a little bit confused, then he looked back at the door. “But what about Grian?”

“Shit, right. Anyway, follow Tommy because he leaves alone. I try to figure out if he knows anything, but doesn’t look like it. I go back, and then there’s another new guy! He’s got magic shit and I’m pretty sure he’s working with not-Punch and then Grian’s nearby. I’m worried he’s going to do something to Grian so I just try a little spell to maaaaybe leave him unconscious for a day or two or something. But then he reacts and attacks back before I can get the spell out, and then their Scar is doing magic, and then Grian interferes and now poof! He’s a kid! So I dragged him here before anyone could notice and he woke up, saw me, and assumed he’s in the future since I’m also here.”

“So, he doesn’t know who you are?” Sense asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“No! So as far as he knows I’m future him and I know what’s going to happen. I just try to remember what’s different between here and wels based on what he says and it works fine. He has no clue he’s still got Watcher magic because that won’t fucking go away, but I can work with that! If he remembers, we shove him in the Anesi box and take it from there. But for now…”

“What do you need?”

“I need to go threaten some people so they don’t ruin some things. I want you to stay with Grian and get his trust. He’s already influenced into thinking he’ll love you since I do, but still play it a little safe. And if necessary, say that I don’t like to talk about my past too much.”

Sense nodded and the magic was lifted from the door. Grifter opened the door again and grabbed the redstoner’s hand to pull him out. “Feeling calmer now?”

“I… yes. I apologize if I scared you at all.” Sense said before getting an elbow in the ribs for him to be less formal.

“It’s okay.” Grian said, though he didn’t look like he was, still glaring a bit. “So, you’re Sense?”

“Perfect Sense, at your service Grian.” And Sense took Grian’s hand and kissed the back of it.

“Seesee, you’re going to make me jealous of myself.” Grifter said with a little giggle. “And don’t make him uncomfortable with that.”

“N-no. It’s fine.” Grian said, taken aback by what just happened. “Um, should I just go by Xelqua so you can tell us apart?”

“Well, Gri had a nickname some people use. A bit of an inside joke. Of course, people still might call him Grian, so you using Xelqua should be fine.”

“What do they use?” Grian asked, worried about what it might be.

“Grifter. And he’s completely fine with it.”

Grian nodded. “Okay. I just thought it might be something else.”

“It’s not.” Grifter said, teeth gritting slightly. “No one’s used that name in years.”

“Gri, are you-” Sense started, but then Grifter was off. “Well, I suppose he does still have things to do. Why don’t I show you around then?”

Grian looked to where Grifter stormed off before back to Sense. “That sounds good. I’m sure he’ll want some time to himself.”

“I suppose you would know that, wouldn’t you?” Sense said with a smile. “Well then, let me show you around the castle. I’m sure you’ll love it here. By the way, Gri didn’t say, how old are you at this point?”

“Eighteen. I’m legally an adult so you don’t need to baby me. I just got pushed back a few years, I’ve still got more high school to deal with, but I’m hoping I can find a way to graduate early.”

Sense nodded, making sure he was behind Grian so he couldn’t see his smile. “Well, I suppose you’re out of there now. Now I can’t remember if we have any guest rooms available, but if not, we can always add a bed in our own room. It’s large enough for that.”

“That sounds good. I was in there earlier and it did look pretty big.” Grian nodded, oblivious to what exactly he was getting into.

[expectingtofly]

SPN Stay At Home Challenge

Week 9: Undercover

After mysteriously returning from Purgatory, Castiel decides to take a break from being an angel and become a hunter. Dean is less excited about the idea, especially since he doesn't quite know where he and Castiel stand in their relationship. But he and Castiel take a case and shenanigans ensue, including, but not limited to...vampires, snakes, dramatic widows, and Castiel wearing Dean's clothes. 

(taking place sometime around 8x7/8x8 if Castiel had tried out the hunter thing for longer)

Words: ~5k

also posted on ao3

When Angels Wear Flannel

“I can’t believe you fell into that gross swamp,” Dean said, opening the door to their motel room. “Way to go, making us look professional.”

“It was a river and it was slippery,” Castiel said, walking inside in squeaking shoes. His clothes were drenched in mud, leaves, and maybe even blood.

Dean took a step back to avoid getting any of the crap on himself. “You almost fell on the body.”

“I was trying to see the bite marks on his arm!” Castiel peeled off his trench coat and brown water dripped onto the floor.

Dean grimaced. “First step to being a hunter, don’t mess up the crime scene. And take that off in the bathroom, you’re getting gross river water everywhere.” Castiel held his trench coat to his chest to stop it from dripping and went inside the bathroom. “Hurry up because we need to go talk to the wife of that dead river guy.”

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” Castiel’s voice came from the bathroom.

Dean looked through the police report he had gotten from one of the officers at the river. “Do your angel power clothes cleaning thing.”

He could almost hear Castiel’s eye roll. “I told you, Dean, I’m trying to not use my powers. I’m a hunter now.”

Dean rolled his own eyes. “You should’ve thought of that before you fell in the river.” He heard Castiel huff. Dean had gone along with Castiel’s plan to become a hunter because he thought it wouldn’t last a day. It’d been a week now and Castiel was still asking to come on cases. Dean had to admit, though, he didn’t mind too much. Sure, Castiel wasn’t much help, but Dean just liked having him close. After Purgatory, he was scared to ever let Castiel out of his sight again.

“Fine,” Dean said. “Just borrow my clothes. I didn’t bring an extra suit, though, so we’re going to have to go casual.” He rummaged through his duffel bag and pulled out an extra pair of jeans. His fingers hovered over his shirts and he settled on a milky blue flannel, pretending it was the first one he saw, not the one that best matched Castiel’s eyes. Going to the bathroom, he found Castiel washing dirt off his arms in the sink.

“Vampire, right?” Castiel asked. “Because of the blood loss?”

“Right.” He handed Castiel his clothes and Castiel wrinkled his nose. “What’s that face for? These are fine.”

“It’s just…” Castiel held up the flannel shirt.

“You’ll look like a lumberjack, I know. Get dressed.”

***

They drove to the neighborhood of the wife whose husband had been found in a river this morning, half-submerged in mud. He’d been declared missing a week ago and had only been found now, nearly drained of blood with two small puncture marks on his wrist. The police didn’t know what to think, which usually meant a supernatural-related death, so Dean and Castiel had taken the case.

“Alright, we’re reporters, writing a story about the death of this woman’s husband.” Dean parked in front of the widow’s house—or better, mansion. He looked up at the large, three story pristine white house and its wrap-around porch and manicured lawns.

Castiel held open the police report on his lap and fiddled with the sleeve of his—Dean’s—shirt. “Helen Roylott. 42 years old. Herpetologist.”

“She studies herpes?”

“Reptiles.” Castiel buttoned and unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve.

“Roll the sleeves up.” Castiel started to and Dean leaned over. “Like this.” He took Castiel’s arm and rolled up the sleeves for him.

“This is a very comfortable shirt,” Castiel said.

“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfy. I’m going to need it back.”

Castiel looked at himself in the rearview mirror and smiled. “Maybe I should wear clothes like this more often.”

“Uh, no. We’re not going to wear matching clothes.”

“But it makes me look more like a hunter. I could pass as a Winchester now.”

“You’re forgetting that you still look dorky.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and Dean finished rolling up his sleeves. He sat back. “Okay, be polite, act sad, try not to trip over your own two feet.”

He didn’t bother looking at Castiel, knowing the bitch-face he’d see. He got out of the car and started towards the house, checking to make sure the business card he’d grabbed was the correct one. Castiel did look strange wearing Dean’s objectively normal clothes, though in an adorable sort of way, Dean had to admit. Adorable? Gross, Dean thought, shaking his head.

He rang the doorbell and in a few seconds a woman in a long, silky black robe opened the door. She looked at them over a lacy black handkerchief which she held to her teary eyes. “I suppose you’ve heard the news,” she said without introduction. She leaned on the doorframe and slumped her shoulders. “It’s simply tragic.”

“Umm, yes,” Dean started. The woman, who he was assuming was Helen, dabbed an eye and looked over Dean’s shoulder at Castiel. “We’re from the Gazette,” Dean said. “We wanted to ask a few questions about your husband’s death.”

“Ah, the greedy press,” Helen said with a sigh. “Oh well, you must do your job.” She stepped back, motioning for them to come in.

“Nice bathrobe,” Dean commented as he walked past her.

She brightened. “Oh thank you. It’s real mink fur.” Dean tried to keep the smile on his face.

They stood in a wide foyer with a curved, marble staircase. Helen shut the door behind Castiel and touched his arm. “And what’s your name, darling?” she asked, her voice echoing in the wide space.

“Um,” Castiel looked at Dean for help. “I’m Arthur, this is Conan.” Dean sighed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Helen pointed to a room off the foyer. “You two have a seat in here. I’ll tell my maid to bring some tea.”

Dean and Castiel obediently went into the sitting room off the foyer. A purple sofa lined one wall and faced two matching purple armchairs. Hearing Helen’s footsteps fade, Dean turned on Castiel. “Arthur? Conan? What the hell?”

Castiel sat on the sofa. “I was improvising. I think I did quite well.”

Dean shook his head. “We need to work on your aliases.” Walking up to the fireplace, he looked at a large painting hanging over the mantle. It was a portrait of, he assumed, a younger Helen. She wore a looping ring on her finger which, he realized as he peered closer, was a silver snake. “Creepy,” he muttered.

He heard Helen tapping back—she must be wearing high heels under her robe, he realized—and sat next to Castiel.

Helen came into the room still dabbing her eyes. She settled herself onto one of the armchairs and sighed. “I’m so sorry you never met my late husband George. He was such a kind soul.” She gestured to her portrait over the fireplace. “He commissioned this for me, such a dear.”

“Yes, very nice,” Dean said. “So, Mrs. Roylott—”

“Call me Widow Roylott,” she said. “I’m afraid that’s what I am now.”

“Alright,” Dean said, shooting Castiel a you-see-this-crazy-bullshit-too-right? look. “Your husband went missing May 12th, correct?”

“Oh, let me see. Yes, it was the night of May 12th. We retired to bed and when I woke up that morning, he was gone. I assumed he was at work. It was only that night when he did not return that I began to panic.”

“Is there anywhere he might have gone after work?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps he went to the golf club with his friends, though no one ever mentioned anything to me. Thank you dear.” A maid had walked into the room and set a tray with tea cups and small pastries onto the table in between the seating.

Widow Roylott took the tea cup the maid poured for her. “You two are the first reporters to show up here,” she said. “I was expecting more pesky intrusions, though, I must say, I wouldn’t mind if all reporters were so handsome.” She peered over her tea cup at Castiel and winked.

“Thank you,” Castiel said. He glanced at Dean. “I wouldn’t mind my job so much if all the widows were so beautiful.”

What the fuck? Dean mouthed at him and Castiel frowned. Flirting? Dean thought. The Cas he knew would’ve frozen up at a compliment, or taken it too literally and made everything even more awkward.

“Oh, you’re too sweet.” Widow Roylott leaned forward and touched Castiel’s arm. Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed one of the small cookies on the tray. “Such a nice jacket,” she said. “Where did you get it?”

Having had enough of this bullshit, Dean spoke up, “He’s taken.” It wasn’t true, but hopefully it would shut this absurd widow up. Then again, maybe he was the absurd one for getting jealous.

Castiel looked confused. “Um, right,” he said. “I have a boyfriend. His name is Dean.” Dean nearly choked on the cookie he was eating.

“Oh, the good ones are always taken,” Widow Roylott sighed. “Well, give me a call if Dean ever dies of mysterious circumstances.” She leaned forward to grab a cookie off the tray and glanced up at them. “I’m only joking!” She laughed.

Dean cleared his throat and stood, “Can I use your restroom?” He’d be damned before he drank out of a teacup and this conversation made death by vampire look merciful.

Widow Roylott waved her hand. “Yes, Charlotte, please show him the way.” Dean followed the maid, Charlotte, and looked back at Castiel. Ask questions, he mouthed.

As he left the room, he heard Castiel ask Widow Roylott, “So you study reptiles?” Dean rolled his eyes. About the case, idiot.

“Second door on the left,” Charlotte said, pointing down a long hallway.

“Thanks.” He headed in that direction and waited until Charlotte had disappeared around the corner, then backtracked and went up to the second floor where he started trying different doors, trying to find the master bedroom,

He wasn’t going to lie, hearing Castiel say he had a boyfriend named Dean gave him a small satisfaction. Only problem: he and Castiel weren’t dating. Yes, Castiel was back from Purgatory, yes, they were on a case together, and, yes, Dean was damn glad to have him back, but, at the same time, he and Castiel were most definitely not together. Did Castiel think they were? He sure didn’t act like it. This was the first time since Purgatory that he and Dean were together alone for an extended period of time, and they’d fallen right back into the easy, teasing, ignore-any-feelings relationship they’d had before.

And, yes, Dean supposed he hadn’t done much to change that, but Castiel was...different. Everything was different now and he didn’t know where they stood. Not to mention, he was still trying to wrap his mind around Purgatory, where Dean had actually thought that, for once, he and Castiel were on the same page about their feelings for each other. But then Castiel had chosen literal monster hell over returning with Dean—and if that didn’t say something about Castiel’s feelings, what did?

Dean shook his head and tried two tall french doors. They opened to reveal a large room with a wide poster bed. The closets and dresser drawers were open, revealing their contents. It seemed Widow Roylott was in the middle of packing. But what was strangest of all was a large, empty glass tank in the corner of the room. Dean walked up to it and peered inside. It smelled like disinfecting solution.

He poked around in some of the drawers. All women’s clothes. Then he noticed several cardboard boxes stacked in one of the closets—there were three closets in total. He opened a box and found men’s clothing. So Widow Roylott moved on quickly.

As he crouched down to look in another box, something under the bed caught his eye. Reaching under the bed, his fingers touched something dry which nearly crumbled at his touch. Delicately, he pulled it out, then yanked his hand away and stared down at what he’d found. A long snake skin.

“Well, look at the time,” Dean said, walking into the sitting room. “Looks like we better get going, right Cas—Arthur?”

Castiel and Widow Roylott looked up at him. He was momentarily surprised to see Castiel in his own clothes, forgetting for a moment that Castiel wouldn’t be wearing his trench coat. He and Widow Roylott were bent over a box of what, Dean couldn’t tell, resting on the glass table between them.

“Oh, umm, yes.” Castiel stood. “Nice to meet you, Helen.”

So they’re on first name basis now, Dean thought. He put his hand on Castiel’s back and half-pushed him out of the room. “We can come back another time to complete our interview,” Dean said to Widow Roylott. “Or maybe just send an email, talk on the phone.”

“An email will have to do,” she said as she followed them into the foyer. “I’m moving this weekend. I’m afraid this house holds too many memories.” She produced her handkerchief to again dab at her eyes.

“Are you bringing any snakes with you?” Dean asked. “I’m assuming you have some, being a…” he forgot the word and improvised, “Reptilian.”

“Herpetologist,’” Castiel said quickly.

Widow Roylott’s eye twitched. “Oh, no, I don’t keep snakes here. I like to keep my work and home life separate.” She opened the door and put on what seemed to be a forced smile. “Well, adieu, my darlings. And thank you for your visit and sympathies.” She patted Castiel on the shoulder and shut the door behind them.

“Creepy, creepy, creepy,” Dean said, shuddering as they walked down the pathway back to the Impala.

“She had an impressive collection of rattlesnake rattlers,” Castiel said.

“That’s what you were looking at? Gross. Ew.” Dean pulled out his keys and unlocked the car. He’d told himself he wasn’t going to mention it, but he couldn’t help say, “Looks like you two got along well together.”

Castiel frowned. “I was only trying to work the case. Isn’t that what you do? Flirt with the women to earn their trust?”

“What? No! It sounds so creepy when you say it like that.”

Castiel shrugged. “Did you find anything in her house?”

“Yeah, a snake skin.” Dean got in the car. “Under her bed. It was massive. And a big tank. I don’t care what she says, she’s keeping a snake there. Or multiple.” He shuddered again.

“Why would she lie about that?” Castiel asked, shutting his door.

“Because having a big snake tank in your bedroom is freaking weird. Did you learn anything from her?”

“I learned the latin names for different kinds of rattlesnakes.”

“Very helpful,” Dean muttered. He glanced at Castiel, wondering what the whole “boyfriend named Dean thing” was about. He cleared his throat. “You know, Cas, that we’re not dating, right?” Castiel looked at him and Dean hastened to say, “I mean, I know you’re back now and we’re going on cases together, but—”

“I know, Dean. I was only lying when I said I had a boyfriend.”

“Named Dean.”

“It was the first name that came to my head.” He looked at Dean. “That is the number one skill of being a hunter, right? Lying? I think I’m becoming a very good hunter.”

Dean shook his head and turned the key in the ignition. Not the answer he was expecting, though a much easier one to deal with. “Alright, to that golf club Helen mentioned, I guess. Maybe our vampire is a golfer. Long as he doesn’t collect snakes.”

***

“Well that was a bust.” Dean took a drink from his beer. No one at the golf club had seen Mr. Roylott on May 12th or since. Dean had even asked the owner of the bar in which he and Castiel now sat, but he had never seen Mr. Roylott, which wasn’t a surprise. Dean couldn’t see mink bathrobe Helen coming to a dive bar.

“Maybe the vampire was only passing through when he killed Mr. Roylott,” Castiel suggested.

“Sam did say there haven’t been any signs of a vamp nest around here.” Dean shrugged. “I don’t know, man, I don’t know where to go next from here.”

Castiel ran his finger down the condensation on the neck of his beer bottle. “Does this happen often? That you and Sam can’t solve cases?”

“Not often. But, yeah, sure. Sometimes you just have to call it quits.”

Castiel wiped his hands on his—Dean’s—jeans. “Why did you buy these clothes?” The way he changed subjects so quickly gave Dean whiplash. It was like his mind ran a million miles an hour and Dean had to run to keep up.

“I don’t know. I liked the color of the shirt, I guess. Jeans were on sale.”

Castiel nodded thoughtfully. “I wear the trench coat and suit because they were the last thing Jimmy Novak ever put on.”

“We can go shopping for clothes for you, if you want,” Dean said.

“I don’t know.” Castiel looked down at Dean’s shirt. “Maybe I should get new clothes.”

“I like the trench coat.” Castiel looked up at him and Dean tried to amend, “I mean, it’s kinda your look, right?”

“I think I need to try something different.” Castiel stared at his still full beer bottle.

“Alright, what’s with this whole hunter thing?” Dean asked.

“Being an angel...” Castiel seemed to search for words. “It’s overrated. Besides, I’ve been an angel for millenia. I want to try something new.”

“Hmm.” Guess he had a point. Finishing his own beer, Dean grabbed Castiel’s and Castiel stood up from his chair.

“Teach me how to play darts. That is something hunters do, right?”

“Well, this one does, at least.” Dean stood and grabbed the darts from the dartboard on the wall. He handed them to Castiel. “You go first. You get three tries at a time. Try to hit a section with the highest number, or the bullseye for the most points.”

Castiel squinted at the board, and Dean thought that if he scanned the room quickly, he might not even recognize Castiel in this outfit. He didn’t understand why Castiel felt the need to change his identity. Did this have something to do with him? Was this the angel equivalent of getting a new haircut after a breakup?

Castiel threw the dart at the board and it landed in the bullseye. “This isn’t very fun,” Castiel remarked.

“You’re too good at it,” Dean said. “Try not using your angel voodoo.”

“I wasn’t! I can't help it."

It wasn’t so much the clothes that was bothering Dean about Castiel. It was that Dean had felt the closest he’d ever felt to Castiel in Purgatory. Now he didn’t know what was going on between them. The frustration of not knowing who Castiel was or what he wanted was only exacerbated when Castiel wasn’t even dressing like himself and was trying to act like someone new.

Castiel threw another dart and it landed right next to his first. “Son of a bitch!”

Dean had been in the process of grabbing his beer bottle; at Castiel's exclamation, he nearly dropped it, splashing beer onto his hand, and swore. Castiel turned to look at him, smiling.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean asked.

Castiel tried to look innocent. “What?”

“You don’t say that, I say that. Pick your own catchphrase.”

“Fine.” Castiel turned back to the dartboard. Dean shook his head. He needed his angel back, now.

***

“Sam said he’ll be here tomorrow,” Dean said, looking down at his phone as he sat down on the motel bed. “Maybe he’ll be able to help with this case.”

“Okay.” Castiel sat down at a small table in the corner of the room.

Dean set his phone down and ran a hand over his face. “Well, I’m going to sleep.” Castiel nodded. “You gonna sit there all night?”

Castiel shrugged. Dean pulled back the covers on the bed and lay down. He started to turn off the light, then glanced at Castiel. The angel was staring down at his hands, or maybe at Dean’s clothes which he was still wearing. “You can lie down here, if you want,” Dean said. Castiel looked up at him. “It’s got to be more comfortable than that chair.”

Castiel studied him, then nodded and came over. Dean slid over and Castiel untied his—Dean’s—boots and set them down on the ground. He laid down under the covers, still in Dean’s jacket and clothes.

Dean turned off the light and they lay there in the dark. It was more comforting lying next to Castiel than Dean wanted to admit. In Purgatory they’d slept close for safety—so they said, though he and Castiel might have abused the excuse. Benny mercifully turned a blind eye to the fact that Dean and Castiel were practically sleeping in each others’ arms.

He could feel his own jacket against his arm and Castiel shifted, pressing his arm closer against Dean’s. Dean took it back; lying here next to Castiel wasn’t so much a comfort as it was torture. He’d been itching for a chance to take Castiel into his arms ever since Castiel returned. But he hadn’t when Castiel first appeared—bloody, dirty, tired, but alive —and he worried he’d lost his chance. Maybe Castiel had taken his stunned, stilted response as proof that whatever they’d had in Purgatory was over.

Because they had had something. Dean might have put on a brave face in Purgatory, might have continually promised Benny and Castiel that they would get out, that they would live, but deep down he’d been the most terrified he’d ever been. So terrified, he said things he’d never said before to Castiel because he feared, more than dying itself, dying without ever saying them.

“Listen, Cas,” Dean said, staring up at the ceiling. His words were loud in the stillness of the room. “I said some things in Purgatory.”

“You want to take them back.”

It hurt to know that’s what Castiel immediately assumed. Dean remembered a moment in Purgatory when several Leviathan attacked, nearly overpowering him, Castiel, and Benny. He remembered how Castiel grabbed his hand to pull him to his feet after they’d killed the last Leviathan. How, still shaking from their near deaths, Dean clutched Castiel’s hand, said, “I don’t want to ever lose you, I love you.” How he pulled Castiel into an embrace and felt a rush of relief as Castiel wrapped his arms around him, held him close.

“No,” Dean said.

A click, then the hum of the air conditioning. Dean turned his head to look at Castiel. Castiel didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Dean, but I don’t think it’s wise. Us, together. Right now. Not with everything I’ve done.”

“Cas, I don’t care about that shit. Yeah, you messed up, but so have I, a thousand times. If anyone should be using that excuse, it should be me.”

Castiel shook his head. He started to speak, and then he was gone.

Damn angel, Dean thought. Castiel had said he wasn’t going to use his wings.

Rolling over, he stared at the neon red numbers on the alarm clock until they wavered in his vision when he looked elsewhere. So everything they’d gone through in Purgatory meant absolutely nothing. But he knew that already, didn’t he? Castiel had stayed behind. Castiel wasn’t fueled by the same consuming need to be together, always, which had urged Dean through Purgatory, had kept him searching, praying, hoping.

A memory rose. Stopping for the night in their search for the portal and sitting next to Castiel, exhausted. Leaning against Castiel’s shoulder and shutting his eyes for a moment, too afraid to put down his guard for any longer.

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” Castiel had said quietly, and Dean had thought he known what he meant.

***

Dean woke to his phone ringing. Half-sitting up, he groped for his phone on the nightstand, found it, and answered it. “Hello?”

“Agent Russell?” the voice said. “Police commissioner Anderson here. You should come down to Mrs. Roylott’s house. You’re going to want to see this.”

As if this case couldn’t get any weirder. Dean hung up and looked around the room. Castiel was still gone. Worried, he checked his phone to see if Castiel had texted him, but of course he hadn’t.

Dean thought briefly of praying to him, telling him to come back, but decided against it. Praying to Castiel had become a habit in Purgatory, one he wasn’t eager to pick back up again. Those prayers had been fueled by desperation, were probably what Castiel was referring to when he gave Dean a chance to take his words back. I love you, I need you, I can’t go on, come back, please.

Dean swung his legs off the bed and heard the motel room door open. He looked over his shoulder to see Castiel walk inside and turned away before the relief he felt showed on his face.

“Good morning,” Castiel said, shutting the door. He held up a brown bag. “I brought you breakfast.” He was still wearing Dean’s clothes, albeit without the boots. He seemed oblivious to that fact, as well as unconcerned that he had disappeared last night without warning.

Dean stood. “We need to go. Something happened at that widow’s house.”

“Oh.” Castiel set the paper bag on the table. Dean opened his duffle bag and pulled out something to wear. “My clothes are still dirty.”

“Then keep wearing mine.”

Castiel came over and grabbed one of Dean’s shirts out of his bag, a dark green flannel. “Can I wear this one?”

“What’s wrong with the one you have on?”

“I like this color more.”

I’ve created a monster, Dean thought. He’d be lucky if Castiel didn’t steal every piece of clothing he owned.

He headed to the bathroom to change and thought of asking where Castiel had been all night. Instead, he said, “I want that shirt back.” What he really meant, he supposed, was I want the old Cas back. The one who’d held him in Purgatory, the one who always came when he called. The one who—Dean knew—despite the fights and betrayals, despite never saying the words aloud, loved him too.

***

Police cars and an ambulance crowded the street outside of Mrs. Roylott’s house. Dean and Castiel got out of the Impala and flashed their badges at the police officers trying to keep curious bystanders at bay.

The police commissioner turned to look at them as they walked over. “Well, agents,” she said, “looks like your work here is done.”

“Why? What happened?” Dean noticed the large tank he’d seen in Mrs. Roylott’s bedroom now standing on the lawn.

“Mrs. Roylott is dead. Snake bite. Same thing that killed her husband.”

“Snake?” Dean asked.

“Last night, the coroner found traces of venom in Mr. Roylott’s body. We’ve arrested the maid for being an accomplice in the murder. Says Mrs. Roylott released the snake while Mr. Roylott was sleeping, then drained his body to get rid of the venom. The maid dumped his body in the river.”

Dean blinked. “Wow.”

“If the snake hadn’t gotten loose from the basement last night and killed Mrs. Roylott, she’d be halfway to Costa Rica right now banking on a life insurance check. Excuse me, will you?” The police commissioner turned to talk to another police officer and Dean looked at Castiel.

“Guess we should’ve seen that coming.”

“No vampires?” Castiel asked.

“Nope. Just a deranged lady.” He spotted people coming out the house transporting a large snake. Its tongue flicked the air and Dean shuddered. Everything about this case was wrong. Castiel was trying to act like a hunter in Dean’s clothes, the monster of the week turned out to be a creepy snake lady, and Dean, for once, wanted to be with Castiel, had even said as much, but Castiel had said no.

Dean turned from looking at the snake. “Alright, time to go.”

As they walked back to the Impala, Castiel complained, “When am I going to get to solve a case?”

“That’s your takeaway from this?” Dean asked. “That lady sicced her pet snake on her husband.”

“I should’ve been able to tell there was something off with her. I’m an angel, Dean. I should be good at hunting.” He opened the door to the passenger side of the Impala and sat inside.

Dean got in the Impala and pulled his door shut. “Give it a few years, you’ll learn.”

Castiel sighed. “Maybe I am a better angel than hunter.”

Dean didn’t respond to what seemed an obvious fact and Castiel huffed. He pulled off Dean’s jacket and threw it onto the back seat.

“You don’t want to be a hunter anyway,” Dean said. “It’s a shitty life.” He started the Impala and glanced at Castiel staring moodily out the windshield. “So...you gonna quit, go back to Heaven?” Castiel shrugged. “Sam and I don’t mind having you around.” Please don’t leave.

“I’m sure the angels don’t want me,” Castiel said. “So I suppose I’ll stay with you and Sam.”

Good to know; Dean was Castiel’s last choice. Relieved all the same, he smiled at Castiel. “We like angel you just fine anyway,” he said.

Back in their room, Dean packed up their things as Castiel threw his dirty clothes in the wash. Dean met him in the motel’s laundry room and found Castiel pulling his trench coat out of the dryer. He shook his head as Castiel pulled it to his face, smiling.

“Ah, nice and warm,” Castiel said. He pulled his trench coat on over Dean’s clothes, which created an odd-mismatched look. Still, it was better than nothing; Castiel looked marginally more like himself. Dean found himself hoping that he and Castiel could start over. Forget all the years of tiptoeing around their desire for each other, forget the tortured, confessional year in Purgatory. Maybe Castiel would come around. Dean had, hadn’t he?

“You are planning on returning my clothes, right?” Dean asked.

“Mmhmm,” Castiel agreed noncommittally, smoothing his sleeves. “Maybe instead of coming on cases, I can man the phones for you and Sam.”

“Right, you can be our secretary,” Dean said and Castiel nodded eagerly, not catching the sarcasm.

Dean rolled his eyes and shoved the rest of Castiel’s clean clothes into his duffel bag. “Come on, let’s get going.” As Castiel walked past him, he had the urge to pull Castiel close and feel the familiar texture of the trench coat, the warmth of Castiel’s body against his. He settled for putting his hand on Castiel’s shoulder.

“Can I drive?” Castiel asked, looking up at him.

“Not a chance.” Maybe he hadn’t ever said enough, even in Purgatory. He knew there was plenty he wanted to say now, wanted to do, wanted to prove. “But if you really like the shirt, you can keep it.” It still wasn’t enough, but he’d find a way. He wasn’t going to lose Castiel again.

Thanks to @helianthus21 @bend-me-shape-me @pray4jensen for this challenge!! These have been such good prompts and I’m writing more than I have in ages so thanks for the inspo :) 

Tagging: @spnwaywardone @good-things-do-happen-dean @becky-srs

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in my destiel fics!

[searchingwardrobes]

Self-Promo Sunday

Last Sunday, I posted an old fic of mine called This Thing We Started which you can read here. People asked for a sequel to it, and I wrote this. I’m not sure it’s what people were wanting, but let’s just say I have tons of experience being *ahem* interrupted by my kids, if you know what I mean. Of course it had to end up in a fic eventually. So here’s 1800 words of hilarious coitus interruptus with a dose of family fluff.

Ao3 says this fic and its prequel were published in 2014. How is that possible? Have I really been writing for this fandom THAT long? Crazy!

Summary: One year after their thwarted one-night stand, Emma and Killian (now married) are ready to celebrate Emma's birthday with "more enjoyable activities." If their children will let them, that is.

Rating: M (originally it was rated T, but on second reading, I think it warrants an M)

Also on Ao3

Tagging:  @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree @shireness-says​ @stahlop @scientificapricot @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms​ @optomisticgirl​ @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite​ @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @vvbooklady1256​ @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan

A giggle bubbled up out of Emma’s throat as she and Killian stumbled into their bedroom, and she couldn’t help thinking back to her birthday last year. They had stumbled into her hotel room in New York City much the same way. But this year, in their home in Storybrooke, there would be sex. And lots of it, if Emma got her birthday wish.

Killian giggled too as he reached awkwardly behind him to turn the lock. Emma dug her fingers into his hair as he nibbled on her ear.

“Wait,” she panted.

“For what?” Killian chuckled as he worked the buttons on her blouse. “This year I’m your husband. No reason to turn me down.”

Emma’s smile was so big as she took in his tender smile and heated gaze that it literally hurt her cheeks. “I know, I’m not, you idiot. I just . . . I had an outfit.”

“An outfit?” Killian asked, wiggling his eyebrows, and Emma laughed. But then he surprised her by reaching around, grabbing her by the backside, and hoisting her up in his arms. Emma wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. “You can use the outfit for the second go-around.”

“Second?” Emma’s voice was muffled as his lips closed over hers. “Someone’s optimistic.”

“Just trying to give you a happy birthday, Swan.” He still called her Swan even though they had been married for four months now. He said it suited her, and she loved the pet name.

Killian pinned her between his body and the wall. “Killian,” she started to pant, and then –

Small knocks sounded on the other side of the door. “Daddy! Henry’s bothering me!”

They both groaned as Killian set Emma’s feet back on the ground.

“Go to bed!” They both shouted at the closed door.

“I tried, but Henry’s playing with his Star Wars gun. It’s too loud!”

Killian grasped fistfuls of his hair in frustration, and Emma laughed. “Just go take care of them. I’ll go change.” She arched an eyebrow at him as she turned to the bathroom with a swing to her hips. Before she closed the door she was treated to the look in his lust-filled eyes.

Emma was already dressed in a red negligée and attempting to drape herself seductively across the bed when Killian returned. But before he could even get the door closed, six year old Haley’s voice came floating down the hall.

“Dad-dy, I’m thirsty!”

Killian raised both eyebrows at Emma, who laughed softly behind her hand. “Go get your cup from dinner,” he yelled back.

“It’s empty and I can’t reach the sink.”

Killian let out a dramatic sigh. “Hold that thought!” he told Emma before shutting the bedroom door behind him. Emma could hear him rushing Haley back to bed, including the fastest version of “Bye Bye Blackbird” ever sung. When he returned, he practically raced across the room.

Though Killian had literally jumped on top of her at first, he took his time with foreplay. He had just removed the negligee and tossed it to the floor when another knock sounded at the door.

“Mummy!”

Emma cleared her throat, hoping she didn’t sound too breathless, “Yes, sweetie?”

“I didn’t make it to the bathroom. I peed a little bit in my panties.”

“Just get another pair out of your drawer.”

“There aren’t any.”

Emma groaned. “They’re in the laundry room,” she whispered to Killian. “Can you take her? I’m in nothing but a thong!”

“Um, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I’m kind of, um . . . excited, if you know what I mean.”

Emma huffed in frustration as she rose from the bed and grabbed her bathrobe. Killian’s ears were pink, which would have been funny, if she wasn’t so sexually frustrated right now. Emma opened the door to where Haley stood, holding a pair of Disney princess panties out in front of her with her fingertips.

“Come on, sweetie,” Emma said with forced patience. Before shutting the door, she turned to Killian and winked, “Hold that thought.”

Fortunately, Haley was cooperative, and Emma was back in just a few brief moments. It wasn’t long until they’d worked themselves back up, and Emma’s thong joined her negligée on the bedroom floor. Things were really heating up when –

“Mommy?”

Emma yelped, shoving Killian off her as she simultaneously grabbed the covers and pulled them up to her chin. “Y-yes, Henry?” Emma inwardly cursed herself; she had forgotten to lock the door after helping Haley.

Henry looked curiously at Killian, “Whatcha doin’ Daddy?”

Emma’s eyes met Killian’s frantically.He had popped back up from the floor but was kneeling by the side of the bed to cover the fact that he was naked. “I’m . . . um. . . I’m,” Killian faltered. Then he folded his hands on the top of the covers and lowered his head to meet them. “I’m praying. Daddy’s praying.”

Emma had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing out loud. She turned back to the four year old standing in the doorway. “What do you need, sweetie?”

His little lip trembled. “I heard a scary noise. Daddy forgot to check the closet for monsters.”

Killian’s eyes had a look of panic until Emma edged his boxers out from under the covers with her toe. He grabbed them and slipped them on surreptitiously. “Coming, little lad.”

Once Killian had taken Henry’s hand and led him down the hall, Emma covered her face with the blankets and laughed until tears pooled in her eyes. Daddy is praying. She would never forget that one for as long as she lived.

When Killian returned, he made a big show of locking the door. When he got to the bed, he dove under the covers with a smirk on his face. Emma giggled and squirmed as his hands found her beneath the covers. They never had sex under the covers, but Emma was currently thinking that it might be a nice change because the things Killian was doing under the covers at this moment were bringing moans and panted exclamations from her lips.

“Shh,” Killian admonished as he surfaced from the covers at Emma’s chest. His tousled hair and flushed face made him look all the more appealing, “you’re being a little loud.”

Emma bit her lip, “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize,” Killian said with a grin, sliding forward until his lips hovered over hers, “it’s incredibly sexy. I just don’t want the kids to –“

“Daddy?”

Emma gasped as she looked over Killian’s shoulder and saw Haley standing in the open doorway. Thank God they were under the covers!

“Bloody hell, Haley!” Killian yelped, “How’d you get in here? The door was locked!”

“I used my keys,” Haley explained, waving her pink plastic Barbie keys in her right hand.

“Seriously?” Emma groaned as she buried her flaming face in Killian’s shoulder.

“I just wanted to be sure you were okay. Mummy was making funny noises.” Haley narrowed her eyes at her father, “What are you doing to her, Daddy?”

“I’m . . . hugging her,” Killian bit out, barely restraining himself from snapping at his daughter, “Go. To. Bed. NOW!”

“Okay, okay,” Haley rolled her eyes as she pulled the door shut, “You guys are so weird.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, Emma couldn’t hold it in any longer; she burst out laughing. Killian groaned as he rolled off Emma. He exhaled a frustrated breath as he flung his arm across his forehead, “Mood officially killed.”

Killian’s pouty face only made Emma laugh harder, but luckily it was infectious and he started laughing too. Soon, they were laughing so hard they were gasping for breath. Just when they thought their laughter was spent, they would glance at one another and lose it again. When their laughter finally petered out, they were lying on their sides facing each other.

“You know what makes this even funnier?” Killian asked as he reached out to push a strand of hair off Emma’s forehead, “Exactly one year ago, we were in this exact same position. Not having sex. Because of our kids.”

That set them off again, laughing hysterically as they snuggled into each other’s arms. Emma pushed Killian onto his back and straddled him, holding his arms down over his head. He looked incredibly attractive at this angle.

“After the night we’ve had, I’m second guessing giving you your gift.”

Killian arched an eyebrow, “My gift? It’s your birthday, Swan.”

“I know,” Emma replied, running her fingers through his chest hair, “and the necklace you got me is gorgeous. And the spa day from the kids was an awesome idea. The girls will be so psyched.”

“Well, I do owe your friends a huge thank you. If not for them, I wouldn’t have all of this.”

“Technically, you should thank Ruby, then. Although if I had taken her advice, we wouldn’t have this thing we’ve got. Just a meaningless one night stand.”

“And you like this thing we’ve got?” Killian’s voice rose a pitch at the end, as if he really wasn’t sure. How could he not know?

Emma smiled tenderly at him, “It’s pretty good.” She leaned over and pulled open the top drawer of the nightstand, withdrawing a sparkling silver box. It was long and thin, similar to the box that had held her necklace earlier. She handed it to Killian, “And hopefully getting better.”

Killian shifted so he was sitting up fully against the headboard and lifted the lid. When he saw the contents, he tilted his head back until it tapped the headboard. He let out a sound that was half chuckle-half groan. “Are you kidding me?”

Emma bit her lip, suddenly nervous. Maybe she should have waited for a more relaxing night to spring the news on him. But then Killian looked at her, his face crinkled with a huge smile and his eyes sparkling with joy. Emma smiled back tentatively and ran her fingers down his biceps.

“So, are you ready for 2 am feedings in addition to the antics of the other two?” she asked, gesturing towards the door when she mentioned Haley and Henry.

Killian leaned closer to her, setting aside the box that held the little white stick with the word "pregnant" across its tiny screen. He took Emma’s face in both hands, rubbing his thumbs gently across her cheeks, “Emma, love, I couldn’t be happier.”

Then he kissed her, holding back none of the passion he felt. Emma kissed him back with equal fervor, running her hands down his back. She tilted her head back as he kissed a path along her jaw and down her neck.

“Do you know what’s different from last year?” he mumbled against her skin as his tongue swiped across the pulse point behind her ear.

“Mmmm . . .” Emma muttered in response, the heat he was igniting inside her making all coherent thought flee.

“Last year,” Killian said as his hand slid down to cup her breast, “last year, I didn’t know what I was missing.”

Emma couldn’t agree more.

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Driven Mad Driving Lessons at Alfea bring an issue to light. Stella Centric, Winx friendship Centric Surprise angst with a happy ending.

-

Palladium tapped his classroom's board, and a list scrawled itself down one side.

“Alright girls, it's second semester, which means that-”

“Driving!” Whooped an excited blonde fairy, and Palladium sighed.

“Yes Stella, driving lessons are now in session.” The professor pointed to the list on the board, “I've broken you up into smaller groups and scheduled you all on different days, please check your times carefully and report to the training tracks for your lessons.”

He fixed a meaningful look at Stella, who giggled nervously.

“Don't worry professor, I'll do way better this year.”

Palladium sighed, “please do, I doubt even your father will be happy to replace another training vehicle.”

Stella sniffled as she sat in her bathrobe, Bloom brushing her hair. Flora handed over a cup of floral scented tea, which Stella accepted with a quiet 'thanks'.

The door of the Dormitory opened and the rest of the Winx entered.

“The good news is that it can be fixed,” Musa answered before they could ask.

“I've volunteered to help with the repairs,” Tecna added, “but the damage is mostly aesthetic.”

Aisha stepped forwards and knelt before the miserable princess, “how are you doing?”

Stella sobbed, “I just don't know what happened! Everything was fine and then! Then... boom!?”

Aisha put a comforting hand on her knee, “well, this is what the practice is for.”

“I know but...” Stella sniffled again, gratefully accepting the tissue Bloom handed her. “This keeps happening! Last year was even worse!”

“Oh, we know,” Musa said, “they showed us the pictures.

“It does seem odd that Stella's so bad at driving though,” Flora commented.

“Oh, I know!” Bloom said, “what if we asked professor Palladium if we could use the Magical Reality Chamber instead, that way if something goes wrong, at least we won't have to worry about a real car.”

Tecna considered the idea and nodded, “the simulation should be easy enough to program, and it would be... more efficient.”

“Yeah...” Stella said in a lacklustre tone.

With a gentle hand Bloom pulled Stella's head back as she leaned forward so she could look her friend in the eye. “Hey, what's wrong?”

Stella let out a heavy sigh, “I just... I'm starting to feel like I'm cursed. I know driving shouldn't be this hard, I know I can do it, but every time I try...”

“Huh,” Flora said, “it's not like it's outside of the realm of possibility.”

“We can look into it at the very least,” Aisha agreed, and Stella looked at her friends in surprise.

“Really? You... you don't think I'm just... making things up for attention?”

Musa snorted, “Stella please, we know you, you don't need to make things up to ask for attention, why would you make shit up about this?”

“Stell'?” Bloom said, concern in her voice when Stella didn't immediately reply. The blonde hunching in on herself instead. “Who said what?” Bloom asked in a tone that made it clear someone was about to make her shit-list.

Stella shook her head, “It doesn't matter.”

“Bullshit,” Bloom said as she moved to sit next to her friend, “in the words of a very wise witch: 'if it matters to you, it matters.'”

“What witch said that?” Aisha asked.

“Pheobe Halliwell, she's a good witch from an Earth show,” Bloom answered before turning her attention back to Stella, “and this seems like it matters to you.” The rest of the Winx made sounds of agreement.

“Tayla, my dorm mate last year, we were, well, knowing you all now I can see we weren't friends, but we were kind of friends, at least, kinda?” Stella made a face as she tried to decide what to say, but Bloom slid an arm around her shoulders and Stella realised she could tell them everything.

“She acted so nice, she had this thing though? Where, in the lead up to asking me for a favour, she'd start laying on thick with the compliments? And you know how I like to keep my closet arranged?”

“In that alleged order that doesn't make any sense, but you definitely know where everything is supposed to go?” Musa asked.

“Actually,” Tecna said, “it does have a specific logic to the sorting... it's just not one most people would use.”

Stella gave a small smile which slipped quickly from her face, “right, that. I kept noticing clothes move or disappear, and Tayla would always say she didn't know anything about it, or that my clothes were probably in the laundry or... and my jewellery too, my books, everything, kept moving, or vanishing for short periods, and my perfume kept running out way too fast. And the thing is, it was usually around the time Tayla had a date with someone.”

“You think she was stealing your stuff to wear to her dates?” Flora asked.

“Yeah, I do,” Stella admitted. “But she had this one dress she always wore to her dates, she's a serial dater, no boy twice, kind of deal, but I just... got this feeling. And it wasn't like my stuff would go missing on the day of the date, or even just for the duration,” Stella shook her head. “Sometimes it was a day, sometimes it was almost a week, but after the date my things would come back. Never on a set schedule, so I couldn't prove they were linked. I told Griselda once, but, well, nothing came of it.”

Bloom's embraced tightened around her friend's shoulder.

“It's weird though,” Stella continued, “after that I kept noticing people refer to me as 'scatter-brained', like, I don't have info-graphic charts but it was suddenly from nothing to really frequent, and not in that, I heard a word now I'm hearing it everywhere kind of way either.”

“If there was no evidence to pin the theft,” Musa said, “she might have tried to throw Griselda off the scent even further by saying you were 'scatter-brained' and just kept misplacing things.”

“Maybe threw out a few mentions here and there to the rest of the school,” Aisha added.

“I...” Stella hesitated, but Bloom's arm was around her, safe and secure, and her friends were on her side. “I wouldn't put it past her. Every time I started doing well at something, or I started getting along with someone... it was like someone sabotaged me, I suddenly couldn't find my pens, my schedule was full of errors, just here and there and always so slight I didn't notice until I showed up for something and was late. And there was Tayla with a spare pen, or notes for the things I missed, or to tell me the boy I liked wasn't worth it if he didn't want to wait for me.”

“That's really creepy,” Bloom said, her mind connecting things in ways she hoped were wrong. “Was she like that with the driving lessons too?”

Stella shuddered so faintly Bloom only knew because she was holding her.

“Yeah,” Stella admitted, “I'd run the curb or hit a post or something would run in front of me, it was like the car was fighting me. Palladium never seemed to notice, and whenever I told Tayla she'd laugh it off, tell me I was 'being dramatic' or 'looking for attention'. When I told her I was worried about failing to qualify for my driver's license she said I was a princess, I could just have a driver take me everywhere, if she was in my shoes, that's what she'd do. She told me I was lucky like that.”

Stella paused as something occurred to her, frowning she went on, “she said that a lot know that I think about it. Mentioning how lucky I was to be a princess, what she'd do if she we in my shoes.”

“Bloom?” Flora asked, and everyone turned to the paler-than-should-have-been-possible ginger.

“Bloom, what is it?” Stella turned to her friend more fully.

“I... I don't want to freak you out,” Bloom said as she tried to swallow back a wave of bile, “but you know how I mentioned Pheobe Halliwell before? Form the Earth show?” The Winx weren't sure where she was going but nodded anyway, because they did remember Bloom mentioning it mere minutes ago.

“Okay, so the show follows three sisters who happened to be good witches, only the oldest gets this cool job and she gets an assistant or something, I haven't seen it in ages, I can't quite remember, but... and oh God I hope I'm wrong to relate this to that but, the assistant becomes obsessed with the eldest sister, she wants to be the eldest sister, to the point where she steals her clothes and wears them and kidnaps her at one point so she can literally take over her life and replace her.”

“Oh,” Musa said faintly, “and there was me thinking this bitch was trying to make Stella reliant on her for 'normal' stalker reasons.”

“Okay,” Aisha said sternly before they could all start freaking out. “Where is this girl now? I don't recognise her name.”

“She dropped out of Alfea,” Tecna said, a device in her hand, information scrolling rapidly across the screen. Stella nodded, seemingly aware of that tid-bit of information. “Looks like she moved to Solaria with her family and applied to join the Royal Solstice Academy.”

Stella whimpered, “I was supposed to go there after I got myself kicked out of Alfea.”

“I'm sorry,” Flora said with a frown, “'got yourself kicked out'? It wasn't about a new shade of pink then?”

Aisha frowned, not having been around to hear about Stella blowing up a lab.

“So why come back then?” Musa asked.

“My parents really wanted me to be an Alfea girl,” Stella said, pulling her hair into her hands to give herself something to do with the nervous energy. “I didn't want to, and they agreed to put me into Solstice, but then my friend Varanda was supposed to go here this year, and while she was on campus for tour, someone mentioned that Tayla had left the school not long after me, and Varanda mentioned it to me because 'hey isn't that weird, both dormies left around the same time.' So I thought I'd be okay to come back.”

“Well I'm glad you did,” Bloom said, colour returning to her face ad she cuddled her best friend.

Around their lounging area the rest of their friends agreed.

Except for Tecna who had gone very still.

“Stella,” and that was all it took for them to realise there was bad news. “She transferred back at the start of this semester.”

Kiko leapt onto their table, and made a small shriek of protest, swiping at the air like he was fighting off an enemy.

“Kiko's right,” Flora said, “we can stand by and do nothing, this girl has to be stopped.”

“Can't let her follow you around forever,” Aisha agreed, “we need to take this to Griselda and Faragonda and make sure they understand how serious we are about this.”

“But last time...” Stella's protest trailed off as Tecna fixed her with a look.

“They know us now, they trust us and our opinions, if we set everything out for them, even they can't deny there's something not right going on.”

“They'll need evidence to do anything about it though,” Musa said with a scowl.

“So we make a plan,” Bloom said, “we figure out how to prove something is happening. Griselda herself taught us a lot about battle tactics, Tayla is the enemy, waging guerrilla war fare on us. So... how do we track down our enemy?”

-

Stella looked nervous as she made her way to the car, Palladium waited patiently beside the vehicle.

“Are you alright to do this?” her asked.

Stella nodded, “let's do it, the worst they can be is wrong.”

Palladium hummed quietly in agreement as they got in the car.

As always, Stella ran through all her checks and gave a wave to the Winx Club who were sitting in the waiting area for their turn. Bloom waved back and gave her a hand sign, which Stella returned with an 'understood'.

Pulling out onto the training road, Stella double checked the road and her gauges.

'All clear,' she added some speed, keeping a close watch on everything. The road ahead was clean and clear as she turned into a corner-

The car slid, the air cushion between vehicle and ground warped like the car had physically hit some kind of oil slick. The body tilted, and Stella tried to correct, but the vehicle refused to respond.

'CRUNCH!'

Stella could hear ringing in her ears, a glance at Palladium told her he was rattled but alright.

Magic swirled around Stella as she sought any trace of magical interference she could.

'There,' she didn't bother to undo her seat belt, her form collapsing into a sparkling ball of energy she raced after her prey.

The invisibility spell was good, but not good enough to fool her.

“You made me look quite the fool last year, young lady,” as she drop the glittery form and returned to her normal body, Griselda reached down and clamped a hand around the girl's wrist, breaking the invisibility spell as she pulled Tayla from her hiding place in the bushes.

“Huh? But you?” Tayla looked confused, stammering excuses as Griselda dragged her away.

“I should have taken Miss Stella seriously last year when she came to me, but you hide yourself well enough to get away with it.” Griselda said, the anger evident in her voice. “I do hope you realise that your little curses with the school vehicles could bee seen as an attempt at murdering a member of the Solarian Royal Family.”

Judging by Tayla's sudden wailing, she had not realised.

-

two months later

Stella was crying as Palladium handed her the certificate of completion. She'd done it, at last, she could now apply for a Dimension wide driver's license.

Behind her the rest of the Winx were cheering loudly, when Stella returned to them, Bloom swept her into a fierce hug.

“How does it feel?”

“Like freedom?”

“Well then,” Tecna said, breaking up the jubilation, “shall we change into something more comfortable so we can head to the lecture hall, I have the show set to play, and I just got a text: the food has arrived!”

“Show?” Stella asked, she'd been aware they were getting celebratory food, but she hadn't heard about any show.

“Oh, yeah,” Bloom shrugged, “you remember that show about the good witches I mentioned? I got the DVDs, and Tecna managed to make them compatible with the lecture hall projector. I finally get to share all my favourite Earth movies and shows with you all!”

“Ohh! Do they have any fashion shows?” Stella asked as she let herself be pulled along.

“Oh, my mum mentioned something new called 'Project Runway' that you might be interested in?”

“That does sound like my kind of thing,” Stella grinned.

-

They had to restart the show only ten minutes in when other students heard about the screening and asked to join in. Rapidly the lecture hall filled with students in pyjamas, bringing blankets and pillows and all kinds of snacks, some of which were technically contraband.

Not that the teachers did anything about it as they sat up the back sipping also technically contraband beverages.

Snuggled in a cuddle pile at the front, Stella felt cherished, and so lucky to have found her friends. As they'd been changing in their PJ's and collecting their blankets, she and Aisha had shared a silent moment as they placed their certificate of completion on the bench.

As princesses, they were always going to belong to their people, their own wants and needs a secondary concern, but this, the ability to drive, to take control and get where she wanted under her own power? It was freedom in a way every girl felt.

As the trio of sisters came together on screen, Stella quietly thanked the universe for every drop of luck, good or bad, that had brought her to this point. (That had brought her home.)

[honestlyconkus]

connor and markus having to deal with the media desperately trying to figure out if theyre a thing or not? love everything you write!

Conkus breaks the internet? HELL YEAH

-

Ring

Ring

Ring

On the 3rd ring Markus reached for his phone, groggy fingers grabbing the thin plastic device. His vision was still blurry from sleep. A digital clock glowed brightly and said 8:23am. It was a saturday.

“Hello?”

“MARKUS! OH MY GOD GET ON IRIS RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. MARKUS CAN YOU HEAR ME? MARKUS-“

At North’s screeching tones Markus pulled the phone a foot from his ear so she wouldn’t break his eardrums. She was still screaming at him from the speaker after a minute, her voice occasionally going static because she was speaking so loudly and quickly. When there was a break in her sentences that’s when he’d intercept.

North took a quick pause and Markus latched onto the silence. “Number 1, slow down. Number 2, why are you calling me so early again? Number 3, why do you want me online-”

“HAVE YOU BEEN READING THE NEWS YOU OLD FUCK, THEY’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT YOU! AND CONNOR.”

At Connor’s name his heart dropped, ice pooling at his chest. Shit. “Connor? What about him?”

“THEY SAID YOU GUYS ARE DATING. SO GET ON IRIS RIGHT NOW AND SET THIS ONE STRAIGHT WITH YOUR FRIENDS.”

“Uhm.”

“DON’T uhm ME YOU SLUT JUST FUCKING TALK TO US,” suddenly North gasped, her voice considerably dropping in pitch and in volume. “Unless Connor is sitting there right beside you, naked?!”

Actually, Connor was in his kitchen cooking him breakfast. He could smell the greasy scent of bacon and faintly hear Connor humming a tune. There were soft noises of kitchenware being moved around.

Markus figured Connor would take awhile, so he decided to go along with it. He’s also pretty sure North would have a heart attack if he didn’t answer at least one of her questions. “No no, he’s not here with me. Fine I’ll get on, just gimme a second.”

He hung up on North and walked to his desk, where it had a computer screen, a small LED bar meant for holograms, and a touchscreen surface for his keyboard. He logged in and clicked on IRIS, which was a video call service meant to talk to people over long distances. The camera took in a person’s image and turned them into 3D holograms, projected onto a patron’s LED. Markus gave them a call and watched as North, Simon and Josh manifested in holographic forms before him.

He could faintly see the walls and decorations of their bedroom. North’s hair was up in a towel, and she wore a fluffy white bathrobe. She seemed to be sitting in Simon’s lap, who was yawning quietly and resting his head against her chest, blond hair a messy bedhead. Josh was sitting from the bed, and Markus could barely see him wearing sweats and a tshirt, slightly smaller than the other 2. He was farther away.

“MARKUS!” Hologram North said, immediately pointing an accusatory finger at him. He moved back when the particles moved towards him, really feeling as if she were standing right in front of him.

“IS IT TRUE? ARE YOU AND CONNOR ANDERSON DATING? IF SO WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US.”

“And why aren’t you wearing a shirt,” Simon whined, eyeing Markus’ body up and down appreciatively. “You know it’s not fair to us, looking so hot all the time. You’re ruining my self esteem.”

Markus raised a hand, a small smile on his lips. “North, stop yelling. I’ll answer your questions when you stop giving me the Look. Also, where are these accusations even coming from? Simon, baby, you are quite literally a model. A Calvin Klein model at that, you don’t need to compare me to you to know that you’re just as hot, maybe even more so.”

Simon blushed and turned his face into North’s robe, who rolled her eyes but patted him on the back. “He’s right Simon stop saying dumb shit about yourself. And stop flirting with Markus, he has a boyfriend now, apparently.” She crossed her arms and glared at him through her webcam.

The likeness of her and her holographic form were uncanny.

“The rumours started when paps found a photo of you taken by someone, and they dropped a name,” Josh intervened, coming closer to view. He gently pushed North and Simon away and began sending him articles, links. “It began to escalate when people saw the articles and started tweeting them at you. I believe this all happened in a duration of 3 days. Did you really not know about this?”

Markus clicked on the messaging system and frowned when links upon links were sent to him. Mainly on blogs, articles, small funky websites. A lot of tweets too, entire threads about Markus and this mystery man. He’s surprised even news coverage was conducted.

Titles included, Who Is This Mystery Man?, Is Markus Manfred Single?, Markus Manfred: Dating?!, Mystery Man with Famous Detroit Painter, Markus Manfred! The list went on and on, each title only a slight variation to the other, and many sharing the same grainy photo; Markus and a man sitting together at a coffee shop, his face obscured by his baseball hat. The coverage was immense, certain sites trying to zoom in on the photo to try to decipher the mystery person. The name Connor Anderson repeatedly popped up, presumably the name the photographer fed sources.

He shook his head, sighing. “No. I was working on a painting the last few days. You know my rules when I paint; no social media until my main idea is done.”

Josh pushed the black wire-rimmed glasses up, his finger rubbing gently across his nose. “Well, it’s gotten big enough people are speculating what it possibly means, who this supposed “connor anderson” is, if he’s even the real connor, etc etc. People are even appearing on North and Simon’s lives and asking if we knew anything.”

“Which we didn’t,” North said, glaring angrily. If her eyes could light someone on fire Markus would be scorched. “Enlighten us, then.”

“Were you guys gonna tell us before the media found out or? Because honestly I feel like I’ve just been betrayed by my own mother. Which I have, by the way, when she ate my pint of strawberry ice cream back in 4th grade but that’s not the point. I mean, how could you do this to us, and more importantly to me?” She turned her nose up in the air and gestured to him, giving him an opening.

Markus opened his mouth then closed it, thinking about how to word the situation properly. He felt bad, he really did. His reasoning was because he didn’t want his friends involved and to end up being dragged along the wrong side of the screen; too many people have tried to do that to Markus already and he hated it.

His life was open to criticism, but he’d be damned if he let the people he loved get in the mix of it too.

“Okay, fine, Connor and I have been dating for quite some time now. Since… June 4th, I think?”

North let out a scream, which prompted Simon to scoot back so she could stand up and glare into the camera. Suddenly Connor entered the room, smiling wide and holding a tray of their breakfast. He set it down on a nearby table and walked closer.

“Good morning Markus- oh! Is that North? Hello North! It’s me Connor.”

From Jericho’s point of view, Connor’s holographic figure was small and dim due to the distance from the camera. When he came into view, hand wrapping around Markus’ neck and waving adorably at them, they all noticed 3 things.

Connor wearing one of Markus’ button downs- visibly buttoned wrong, wrinkled, and nothing else beneath

The small bruises, red and purple, peeking out of his white collar when he leaned forward.

Markus soft smile as Connor walked up to introduce himself, blue and green eyes looking absolutely smitten.

North continued screaming, standing up and walking out of the room for a moment. Connor watched as her little figure disappeared, concern knitted into his eyebrows. Her voice was merely an echo after a few seconds.

“Is she alright?”

The jericho boys nodded, Simon leaning forward, hand on his desk and chin on his hand, smiling. “She’ll be back, she just needs to let off some steam. But wow, congratulations you guys! I didn’t know you were dating.”

“Yeah, we’re sorry about that,” Connor said, taking his seat onto Markus’ lap. “We didn’t want it to become a big deal, and because he has the Manfred name putting this out public so early would’ve been a headache to him and the police department.”

“So we decided to give it a try secretly,” Markus continued. One hand reached beneath Connor’s shirt and gently drew circles with his fingers along the hips. His other hand rested against Connor’s thighs, also covered in marks. “See if we could, you know, make it work.”

“It looks like it did.” Josh winked, staring pointedly at the marks covering Connor’s body. Connor blushed and stood up, looking for a pair of joggers to present himself better. When he left North came back, towel gone and her hair brushed down. She was still wearing her robe, considerably less ruffled but still pissed.

“So what are we going to do?” North asked, sitting back onto Simon’s lap. Her voice was surprisingly clear despite screeching from the depths of her soul a minute ago. “The media is already trying to make this much more fucked up than it should be.”

Markus rolled his eyes. He’d heard the same things over and over again, always accusing him of plagiarism or thinking he’s up to a scandal, like his half brother Leo. They’re always trying to drag his name to the ground but he’d grown thick skin and it doesn’t bother him as much. “It’s fine. I don’t care what they think of me.”

“But what about Connor?” North pushed Josh to the side and began hunting for the harsher articles, the ones intent on tearing her best friend down.

“What about me?” Connor came back into view wearing Markus’ sweats and sat back down onto his boyfriend’s lap, sitting up straight and smiling curiously at North. She smiled back and blew his holographic figure a kiss.

“Hey baby. I’m still mad at you for not telling me anything, but I promise I won’t rip your fingers off when we meet next time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Anyway,” She went back on her hunt, ignoring the stunned looks on everyone’s faces between their exchange. “I think the media figured out Markus wouldn’t give 2 shits, so they’ve decided to target Connor instead. They’re accusing him of his integrity, thinking he’s being sold out to Markus so Markus could hide his supposed scandals, maybe Connor is sleeping his way through the department to get a promotion, etc etc.”

She sent over the links to the articles, watching as Markus’ face grew tighter and tighter. Blue and green eyes were lit with a raging fury as the media attempt to get under his skin by attacking the one he loved. They went so far in the reach they even tried to link the two’s relationship with Connor’s father, Hank. Asking if his slump a few years back had anything to do with Connor being “bought” to succession in the precinct. It almost worked, until Connor leaned back to press his weight against Markus’ chest, reminding him he’s here.

He turned and gave Markus a quick kiss to the jaw, waiting until the beating heart he could feel slowed.

Connor wanted to laugh at the titles. Is Markus Manfred Hiding A Scandal?, Markus Manfred, Paying Detective Hush Money!, Detective Anderson A Sell Out!, Scandal In The DPD!

“Where these really all they could come up with?” Connor asked, clicking through, unbothered. “You’d think they went to school for this.”

“You’re not upset?” Markus asked, looking down at his lover. “You’re not mad about how the people will perceive you?”

“Of course I’m mad.” Connor said, rolling his eyes and jostling him with his elbow. “I’m mad that they’re attacking me for illogical reasons, trying to start something they don’t properly understand. The fact that no media outlets have reached out to us is ridiculous and embarrassing on their part. I’m mad they can’t even do their research correctly. I’m mad that this will hinder my future investigations, because detectives at the DPD still don’t like me and will do whatever it takes to tear a rookie like me down.”

Markus’ guilt grew at each passing sentence, feeling more and more to blame at getting Connor caught up in this, until Connor’s voice grew strong and he gave Markus a pointed look.

“I’m especially mad that they think they can get away with attacking my lover like this. They will regret doing this.”

Markus smiled, leaning down for a kiss. The crowd before them held a mixture of boos, cheers, and groans. In order: North, Simon, and Josh. Connor reciprocated by kissing him back, a simple kiss because of the audience.

He grew more bold when there weren’t people looking.

“So what do you want to do?” Josh asked, staring at the couple. “The easiest way to dispel the rumours from escalating is clearing anything up as soon as possible. A statement should suffice.” He was tapping rapidly on his keyboard, already looking at analytics for their social media profiles.

“You need to make it public,” Simon added, nodding in agreement. He began to list off ways they could make it happen. “Markus has a platform; Connor can come to us if he wants to say anything to the internet.”

“Whatever happens, we’re here for you Markus.” North concluded, nodding resolutely at her best friend. The rest of them agreed.

Markus felt his heart swell with pride and fierce love for his friends, the people he’d begun to consider family almost a year ago. He looked down at his boyfriend, who was also staring back at him, waiting for a response.

“What do you think Connor?”

Connor shrugged, sitting back comfortably into his lover’s warmth. “It’s up to you Markus. You’re the one with the social media accounts; it’d also make more sense for the public to hear it from you first. Like I said, their words don’t bother me like you imagined they would, but I think going public with our relationship would be a good idea. It’ll create less headaches for the both of us in the future, and I don’t see anything going wrong in this scenario. We can clear up any confusion, confirm the relationship, and hope no one is still homophobic in the year 2040.”

“Are you sure you want this?” Markus asked, brushing a thumb across the back of Connor’s palm. He stared in thought as Connor flipped his hand over, playing with Markus’ fingers until he intertwined their hands together. “It won’t be the same afterwards.”

“Are you kidding me?” Connor craned his neck to the right, looking up. His eyebrows were scrunched in disbelief. “I’ve been wanting to tell the world you were my boyfriend for months. Of course I want this.”

Everyone laughed at Markus’ perplexed expression, Connor grinning mischievously. He reached up and pulled Markus down for another kiss, this one slow and deliberate, tongues out, making the crowd whistle and cat call at their raunchiness. North had to clear her throat when she saw Connor arch his back, which only meant Markus’ hands had gone to discreet places.

“Alright you whores, it’s settled.” She smiled, crossing her arms across her chest. The couple broke apart and sat up, attentive. “We’ll start our plan of attack against those journalist goons with Markus. Beginning with his Instagram. Once you confirm with a cute photo of the 2 of you (keep it PG), Simon and I will also confirm anything on our lives.”

“Josh will handle twitter; just tweet out whatever the people want to hear, maybe do a Q&A or something, thread here and there.”

“Could I use my snapchat?” Connor offered, waving his phone in the air. North’s eyebrows rose in surprise and she chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. They hadn’t even known Connor had social media.

“You know, Connor, sometimes you really surprise me.”

“We’ll keep doing this until someone wants to interview us, I presume?” Markus asked, glancing between Jericho and Connor. They all nod and he relaxed against the chair, pacified.

“Huh.” Everyone held their breath, expectant.

There was a flash of white as Markus unlocked his phone, scrolling through his gallery for photos.

“Let’s do it.”

-

am I starting another series? I’m starting another series ;)

conkus breaks the internet

asks still open!! I’m trying to get as many as I can so that when college starts I can just post those and stay active for yall lol

[sinsiriuslyemo]

The Rabstian relationship continues to develop, and the sexual tension finally boils over. Merry Christmas if that’s what you celebrate! Happy Holidays is Christmas isn’t your bag! Thank you to those of you who read this story so so much for reading this couple’s journey!

tagged: @bullet-prooflove, @delia26, @ghostofachancewithyou, @whiterose2664, @blown-transistor, @esparza-army, @mikeydodds, @southern-magnolia, @majahight, @katmstanton, @letty-o

9. Merry Christmas

FIVE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS 2013

The aftermath of Thanksgiving in New York city had always been a whirlwind of holiday shoppers, trying to balance everyday life with the impending deadline of Christmas Day that loomed ahead. Sebastian had never quite understood it; for him holiday shopping had always been easy enough for the three people he typically shopped for. But what exactly did one get for a man they’d been seeing for only three months? Casper had suggested a simple card or giftcard and the pianist couldn’t help but cringe at the thought. Giftcards, while practical, seemed void of any sort of thought, and a simple card was thoughtful, but didn’t exactly show very much effort on his part either.

“You gotta keep it simple, you can’t get him something you would get for me, for example,” Casper said as he followed his friend down an aisle of the store they were in.

“What makes you think that I would get you something similar to what I would get for Rafael?” Sebastian answered with a smirk. Coming upon a rack of shirts, he examined his options as Casper played with a snow globe behind him.

“You know what I mean, dipshit, you always get me amazing gifts because you know me inside and out. Not to mention that it wouldn’t creep me out if you got me something expensive because we’ve known each other since puberty--”

“--When have I ever gotten anyone anything expensive? Do you even know me?” Sebastian replied, turning to knit his brows at Casper.

“I meant rich not as in rich rich, just...thoughtful. Heartfelt.”

“What are you getting Katie this year?” Sebastian asked, turning his attention back to the shirts.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Look, I know a lot about stuff he likes, but you’re right. We haven’t been seeing each other that long, plus he’s got a demanding job, so the gift not only has to be appropriate for the amount of time we’ve been dating, but also practical given his schedule. It’s just taking me a while to decide what that gift is going to be,” the musician said. Letting out a heavy sigh, he abandoned his search for a t shirt and continued down the aisle.

“You’re thinking way too much about it,” Casper said, setting the snowglobe on the rack with all the others before following the pianist. “What about a case of beer?”

“You’re a neanderthal,” Sebastian mumbled. “It’s Christmas, not a damn barbeque. What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Alright, so a seasonal brew.”

“No, I wanna get him something nice, but not too...big...you know? Casual but...thoughtful,” Sebastian replied.

“Okay, what do you know about him?”

Sebastian sighed again as he stopped in the middle of the aisle and turned to face his friend. “He likes coffee. And theatre...and music, all kinds of music...he really likes crossword puzzles--”

“There you go, get him one of those uh, book-puzzle-thingys,” Casper suggested.

“A book-puzzle-thingy.”

“A book-puzzle-thingy,” Casper repeated. “He’ll like that.”

“Yeah, but he can get those anywhere. No, I want it to still be special, something he can’t find just anywhere.”

“Coffee mug.”

“Animal,” Sebastian replied, pointing to Casper.

“At least I’m coming up with ideas, all you came up with was ‘something special’ which by the way can mean literally anything,” the lanky brunette replied as the two wandered down the next aisle.

“I could make him a book of crosswords?”

“No,” Casper answered, shaking his head. “That’s way too much effort for only having been dating three months, get outta here.”

“Well, what about you?” Sebastian replied, again trying to steer the conversation away from him and Rafael.

“Katie? Figured I’d get her another one of those action figures she likes,” Casper answered with a shrug.

“You got her that for her birthday and let me tell you something else, pretty soon it’s gonna be coming up on a year that you guys have been hooking up and you still won’t give her the girlfriend label. If I were you, I’d shit or get off the pot.”

“Shit or get off the pot,” Casper repeated.

“Shit or get off the pot.”

“Where’s all this pressure coming from all of a sudden? What, are you my relationship counselor now?” Casper asked.

“No, I’m just saying, I know what it feels like to be really into somebody that refused to pull the trigger on making it official,” Sebastian answered as he bobbed his shoulders. “All I’m saying is, she deserves to know whether or not she’s wasting her time after seven months. That’s all.”

“Okay, cupid, so what should I get her then?”

Again Sebastian turned to face his friend, a smile forming on his face. “That depends.”

“On?”

“On whether you want to be her boyfriend or just keep being roommates.”

“Whose friend are you again?” Casper asked.

“Come on, I just think she’s a great girl and to put up with your shit as much as she does, I gotta give her credit for that,” Sebastian replied. “But I’m your friend. Animal. Always.”

“So...what, like a bracelet?” Casper suggested.

“No, that’s generic and she doesn’t wear jewelry. Think outside the box a little,” Sebastian replied, watching as Casper’s brows furrowed in thought.

“She told me once that she’s always wanted a bathrobe.”

“There you go,” Sebastian said with a grin. “Okay, now you just gotta find a bathrobe that fits her personality and you’re good to go.”

Casper arched a brow. “You’re serious? You think I should get her a bathrobe for Christmas?”

“Yes. It’s a relatively small gesture that shows you’ve been paying attention to her and something you know she’ll use,” Sebastian answered. “She’ll love it.”

The brunette remained silent for a moment, eyes lowering as he considered his friend’s words. “Okay  but if she hates it, I’m gonna tell her it was your idea.”

“Fine,” Sebastian replied, turning to resume his search for the perfect gift to give to Rafael.

TWO DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS 2013

A lull in the legal system had never been more welcomed and with the William Lewis trial looming--and his lawyer filing seemingly every pretrial motion under the sun--Rafael was all too happy to have the reprieve from other cases. As it was, Lewis’ lawyer had filed three separate motions just that morning, all of which had left him at the office prepping until late.

Walking into the piano bar, his eyes subconsciously went to the man onstage, who was just finishing a cover of Piano Man. Rafael made his way to the bar and smiled at the lanky brunette who was rinsing a glass.

“What can I get you?”

“Hi. Casper, right?” Rafael asked.

“That’s my name,” Casper answered, casually hanging the white towel in his hand over his shoulder. “What’ll it be?”

“Um...scotch, rocks please,” Rafael answered as Sebastian came up beside him and the prosecutor turned towards him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Sebastian replied, leaning in to drop a kiss on the other man’s lips. “Good day?”

“The courthouse is officially closed for the holidays and now I get to see you, so yes. Amazing day,” Rafael answered.

“Scotch rocks,” he heard Casper say as he placed a drink on the bar. Reaching into the cooler in front of him, he took out a beer for Sebastian, opened it and set that on the bar as well.

“Thank you,” Rafael replied.

“Yup!” Casper said with a nod, walking to attend to another patron on the other side of the bar.

“Don’t mind him, he’s a neanderthal,” Sebastian said, rubbing a hand over Rafael’s back as the attorney chuckled. “Long day?”

“Yeah, I had two pretrial motions earlier and then the same lawyer filed three more for after the holiday,” Rafael answered, taking a sip from his drink.

“That sounds like fun,” Sebastian teased.

“Oh yeah, absolutely. I’m sorry I missed your last set.”

“No, it’s okay, I understand. You’ve been to every one for the last three months, I can’t exactly complain,” Sebastian answered as they walked to Rafael’s usual table, where Katie was sitting, watching something on her phone with earphones. Sebastian leaned towards Rafael and mumbled in his ear, “Somebody tried to sit there earlier so she decided to park it to save you the table.”

“She fended off another customer for me?” Rafael asked with a smirk.

“Mhm, she likes you,” Sebastian answered, smiling back at the prosecutor as they approached the table.

“You didn’t watch the show?” the lawyer asked the brunette, who pulled the ear buds out of her ears when she saw the two men.

“What?”

“What are you watching?” Rafael asked in a chuckle.

“America’s Dumbest Criminals on Youtube. Some people are so stupid,” she replied, setting her phone down. “You’re a lawyer, how many dumb asses do you come across? Like, on average.”

“A few,” Rafael answered, bobbing his shoulders. “Thanks for saving the table for me.”

“Oh, no sweat, I like a corner table anyway,” Katie said, waving a hand. “I’m gonna go grab another beer, you guys want anything?”

“We’re good,” Sebastian answered, holding up his beer and resting his free arm over the back of Rafael’s chair.

“Alright,” Katie replied before she walked to the bar.

“And how was your day?” Rafael asked as he took another sip from his drink.

“Good,” Sebastian answered. “I found your present today.”

“Oh?”

“Yup, I just have to wrap it and it’s good to go,” Sebastian said with a grin. “You going to your mom’s for Christmas?”

“Yes, dinner at eight and then midnight mass. What about you? I assume you’re going to be spending it with Mrs. Fitzgerald?”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna bring her some food. The Thanksgiving spread wasn’t exactly up to her standards,” Sebastian answered.

Rafael arched a brow in interest. “You cook?”

“Do I cook,” Sebastian replied in a chuckle. “Maybe I can cook for you sometime if you bring me another piece of that flan your grandmother makes.”

“You got yourself a deal,” Rafael said, smirking. “How’s your writing going?”

“Finished another song this morning,” Sebastian replied. “This next one is real bitch, though. I’m struggling.”

“You’ll finish it. I have faith in you,” Rafael said as one hand fell to stroke the musician’s thigh as Katie came back and reclaimed her seat across from them.

“Thanks, babe,” Sebastian mumbled around a smirk.

“Hey, do you know if Casper is getting me a present for Christmas?” Katie asked, looking at Sebastian.

“Maybe.”

“Bastian, come on. You don’t have to tell me what it is, but if he’s not getting me anything, tell me. I don’t wanna get him something and then have him go all weird if he didn’t get me anything,” she replied, her eyes pleading with him.

The pianist sighed heavily. “Okay, yes. He got you something, but that’s it. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

“That’s fine. Really, it’s fine, don’t tell me,” she said, taking a pull from her beer. “No, tell me what it is--”

“--Nope. Hard line there, I’m not gonna tell you anything else,” Sebastian answered as he shook his head. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

“Did you at least help?” she asked. The only response she got, however, was a quirked brow and a smirk. “Come on,” she groaned, turning her attention to Rafael and giving him a sweet smile. “Rafaeeel--”

“--No!” Sebastian interjected, moving his hand from the back of the prosecutor’s chair to his shoulder. “You get no more information.”

“Yeah, don’t pull me into this,” Rafael agreed with a chuckle. “I’m sure that whatever he got you, you will love.”

“Ugh, you both suck,” Katie groaned playfully, taking another sip from her beer. “Hey, you guys should come to trivia with us some night.”

“Trivia?” Rafael inquired.

“Yeah, it’ll be, like, a fun double date,” Katie answered.

“Yeah, I think that sounds fun,” he said, looking over at Sebastian, who winked at him.

“Yay! It’s on Tuesday nights over at the bar on 23rd and 6th.”

“I work Tuesday nights,” Sebastian replied.

“So get Anna to cover you, I’m sure she’d be stoked to work more than one night a week,” Katie said.

Rafael knitted his brows as he took another sip from his drink. “Who’s Anna?”

“She sings here on Monday nights,” Sebastian answered.

“Maybe you should consider it,” Rafael said, bobbing his shoulders. “It would give you more time to work on your musical anyway.”

“Yeah, and besides she’s gonna be finishing school soon. If she doesn’t get more hours, she’ll have to start looking for another job,” Katie chimed.

“Maybe after the holidays,” Sebastian suggested.

“Speaking of which, Katie, what are you doing for Christmas?” Rafael asked.

“Going to my parents’ for dinner and then timing my exit before they try to guilt me into spending the night. I’ve got younger siblings that wake the entire house up at six in the morning to open presents and I am not about that. There is literally no reason to get up that early on any day, including Christmas Day.”

“Um, to see what Santa brought,” Sebastian said with conviction, earning a chuckle from Rafael.

“Fuck Santa,” Katie replied with a gentle smile.

Rafael and Sebastian both gasped and Katie chuckled as she brought her beer to her lips again.

“Fuck Santa?” Sebastian repeated.

“I mean, I don’t believe in Santa anymore than the next person, but I have to admit he represents cheer and warmth,” Rafael said.

“Yeah, come on, kids love Santa and it’s great to see them so excited about some chunky, red-suited guy bringing them presents,” the pianist added.

“Even if it is technically breaking and entering,” Rafael said.

Sebastian nodded in chuckle. “And despite the fact that eventually the dream of Santa will die when someone inevitably tells them he’s not real.”

“You guys are too much,” Katie said with a giggle.

“Last call!” they heard Casper announce from behind the bar.

“You wanna get outta here?” Sebastian asked, looking over at Rafael, who nodded before taking a final sip from his drink.

“Oh sure, leave me with Mr. Grinch,” Katie teased.

“Good night, Katie,” the pianist replied with a grin before he turned to Rafael.

“It was good to see you again, Katie,” Rafael said, smiling at the brunette.

“You too. Goodnight,” she replied.

THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS EVE 2013

The chill outside was barely noticeable to Sebastian as he and Rafael walled to Rockefeller Center to admire the huge Christmas tree. It was something the musician had done every Christmas, sometimes with Edna, other times--most times, due to the freezing weather--alone but he was ecstatic to be continuing the tradition with Rafael.

As they came upon the 94-foot tree, their fingers intertwined at their sides, Sebastian leaned against the railing that framed the ice rink and let his eyes roam the majestic, multi-colored Norway Spruce. They stared in a comfortable silence as below them, people skated in pairs on the ice rink. As was typical during the holiday season, the air was dense with laughter and love, things that Sebastian thrived on.

“I never get tired of seeing this tree,” Rafael said as he took a side-step closer towards Sebastian and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I know, it’s the most beautiful part of the city this time of year,” the musician answered. “I’ve never gone skating here though, fuck that line.”

Rafael laughed, nodding. “I’m not much for ice skating either. Honestly, I’d probably fall flat on my face.”

“Yeah, same here. Skating is young man’s game,” Sebastian teased in a chuckle. Tearing his eyes away from the tree, he looked over at Rafael. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course,” the ADA replied as he met Sebastian’s gaze. “I wouldn’t pass up a chance to spend time with you.”

“Me neither.”

The corner of Rafael’s lips curled as he rocked forward, catching the pianist’s pout with his own in a firm kiss before they each turned their eyes back to the massive tree before them.

“Barba?” he heard from behind them and Sebastian turned to see a tall, bundled up brunette with the most striking eyebrows he’d ever seen. Her mouth curled into a gentle smirk as she glanced at him before turning her chestnut eyes back to Rafael. “I didn’t think ADA’s appreciated the tree at Rockefeller center.”

“I do have a life, Olivia,” Rafael answered with a matching smirk.

“I guess so,” she said, looking to the pianist again. “You must be Sebastian.”

The pianist blinked, turning to face her as he held a hand out. “Yeah, that’d be me...I’m guessing you’re Olivia?”

“I am. Barba...talks a lot about you,” she replied.

He grinned, feeling his heart swell in his chest as he shifted his gaze to the man beside him. He could see Rafael’s cheeks grow red and placed a hand on the small of the prosecutor’s back.

“You here with Cassidy?” Rafael asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

“No, actually, I uh…” Olivia turned her face away for a moment as if to collect herself, but Sebastian could feel the tense energy radiating from her. “I just thought I’d go for a walk and…” She paused again, looking back at them with a forced smile. “...ended up here.”

The pianist gave a sideways glance to Rafael and his face fell slowly when he saw the ADA’s somber expression. Turning his attention back to Olivia, he gave her a warm smile. “I was just gonna suggest we get out of the cold and get something hot to drink. Would you wanna join us?”

She looked surprised as her mouth fell open as if to respond, though no sound escaped until she glanced at Rafael. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Sebastian bobbed his shoulders, setting his eyes on the ADA. “I don’t mind.”

“Me neither,” Rafael echoed, trying to smile. “Come with us. Really.”

“I appreciate the invitation, but I should really get home,” Olivia replied. “It was very nice to meet you, Sebastian.”

The pianist smiled and nodded once. “Yeah, you too. Hope we see each other again.”

“I hope so too.” She shifted her eyes to Rafael. “I’ll see you around, Barba.”

“Take care, Liv,” Rafael replied, watching her turn and walk away. The ADA sighed before looking at Sebastian.

“Liv...is that the same Liv that you were upset with not too long ago?”

“Yes,” Rafael answered.

“You never talked to her about the whole dinner party thing, did you?” Sebastian wondered as the corner of his lips curled upward. He had sensed an unspoken tension between the prosecutor and his coworker from the moment she’d walked up and could only imagine there being one reason for that.

“No,” Rafael in another sigh. “She’s been through a lot the last few months, I didn’t want to add on to that by making her feel guilty.”

The pianist frowned and gently squeezed Rafael’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that. She okay?”

The prosecutor bobbed his shoulders slowly. “I’m not sure. She says she is, but...I wonder sometimes.”

Pulling the ADA closer, Sebastian kissed his cheek. “You’re a good friend.”

Turning his head to brush his nose against that of the musician’s, Rafael smiled. “Wanna get out of the cold?”

Sebastian nodded and kissed the ADA’s pout, humming when a trickle of warmth fell over his frame.

“So you talk about me?’ he asked playfully, lacing his fingers with Rafael’s.

The ADA grinned, cheeks growing rosy again. “Yes. I have.”

Sebastian smiled and gently squeezed the other man’s hand. He could hear Casper’s words in his mind to reel in his emotions, but his heart ignored the reasoning of his brain as it swelled with love for the prosecutor. He just had to keep himself from saying it out loud any time soon.

CHRISTMAS EVE 2013

“What time are you supposed to be going to Edna’s?” Casper asked from his place on the couch in Sebastian's apartment. Every years since they were in college, he and the pianist had spent Christmas Eve day together before going to their respective families homes for the evening. It had become a tradition without very much effort on either of their parts.

“Five thirty,” Sebastian called out from the kitchen as he put his enchiladas into the oven and set the timer. “You should’ve invited Katie over with you.”

“Why? It’s always been just us,” Casper answered. “Besides, I don’t see Rafael here either.”

“Hey, speaking of which, what was up with you the other night?” Sebastian asked, going into the fridge for a couple of beers.

“What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? A few weeks ago you were hounding me for a formal introduction, then last night, you barely even looked at him,” Sebastian replied, handing his friend one of the beers as he sat down on the other end of the couch.

“Yeah, I thought about it more and I figured maybe it’s better to wait until you guys are actually dating, like together, like boyfriends before he starts meeting your friends,” Casper answered.

“Katie met him.”

“Yeah, but Katie’s different. I’m your friend since forever, Katie’s known you about as long as she’s known me,” Casper said. “Meeting acquaintances is no big deal, but meeting your best friend, that’s right up there with meeting your brother.”

Sebastian grinned, nodding his head. “So, I guess you and Katie are actually dating then.”

“Whoa--”

“--You just said…” He smirked as Casper sighed heavily. “...that meeting a best friend is like meeting a brother--which, by the way, I agree--and that you shouldn’t meet Rafael until he’s actually my boyfriend. So, since Katie and I have not only met but been friends since you two have been sleeping together, that must mean you’re dating.”

“Fuck you and your deductive reasoning,” Casper groaned.

“Why are you so damn afraid of calling her your girlfriend? She’s a great girl and she likes you, despite the fact that you’re a neanderthal,” Sebastian said. “It’s time.”

“Shit or get off the pot.”

“Exactly,” the pianist replied with a slow nod.

Casper groaned again, letting his head fall back against the cushions of the couch. “I just don’t want things to get weird, you know? I mean, we already live together. What if after I give her the girlfriend title, she starts talking about getting married, having kids? I mean, shit, man, I’m not ready for that.”

“Maybe she’s not either,” Sebastian replied.

“Women are always ready for that,” Casper said with a pointed look.

Sebastian held up his finger as he took a sip from his beer with the opposite hand. “That’s sexist.”

“Maybe, but it’s true. I’m telling you, man, as soon as you’re living together, their ovaries fucking explode.”

“Come on,” Sebastian replied with a chuckle. “You’re thirty-fucking-six years old.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, if you don’t get over being such a damn commitment-phobe, you’re gonna end up alone,” the musician answered.

“I am not. A commitment-phobe,” Casper said.

“I call bullshit,” Sebastian mumbled. “You are a commitment-phobe.”

The bartender sighed heavily, taking a drink as he tried to focus on the confrontation on the TV screen. “Okay...maybe.”

“Maybe,” Sebastian replied, taking a sip from his own beer. “What the hell are we watching?”

Casper smirked softly, looking over at his best friend and inhaling slowly as he let his eyes back to the TV. “Jersey Shore, the...second season, I think?”

Sebastian furrowed his brows as he looked over at Casper. “You watch Jersey Shore?”

“Yeah, Katie got me into it...it’s actually a pretty interesting social experiment about what happens when you mix vacation brain with alcohol and the younger generation.”

Sebastian couldn’t help the wheeze-like laugh that swelled in his throat and turned into a staccato sort of cackle. “Social experiment.”

“Laugh it up, asshole. So, what’d you end up getting for Rafael?”

Groaning under his breath, Sebastian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “A shirt...a tshirt, it’s a tshirt.”

“You got him a tshirt?” Casper asked, knitting his brows. “What happened to the thoughtful gift you wanted to get him? Wow, I mean this has got to be a first. You’re usually the king of gift-giving.”

“I mean, it says Coffee is my spirit animal,” Sebastian replied. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? God, what the hell was I thinking? He doesn’t even wear tshirts.”

Casper caught his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes lowering for a moment. “How much time does the enchilada have?”

“I dunno, probably five or ten minutes,” the musician replied in a sigh.

“Okay, when you get it out, we’re gonna go out and get Rafael another gift.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, where the hell are we gonna find another gift? Most places close early--”

“--Don’t worry about that, I got a guy,” Casper replied.

“You got a guy,” Sebastian repeated.

“I got a guy. Just get your damn enchilada out of the oven and trust me,” Casper answered. “You trust me?”

“Always.”

“Alright, then shut your mouth and get your dish outta the oven,” Casper replied as he stood up and shut the TV off.

CHRISTMAS DAY NIGHT 2013

After a day at his mother’s brownstone, Rafael took a cab home to pick up Sebastian’s gift, which he had spent more than a day picking out and walked down the street towards the musician’s apartment. He could hear the crunch of every step as snowflakes continued to fall from the sky and wondered whether his grandmother had been right when once again at dinner, his relationship status had been brought into conversation. He wasn’t old by any stretch, but he certainly wasn’t getting any younger and it made him consider how long he and Sebastian had been in such close proximity. He felt thankful for having met the musician and yet couldn’t help but wonder how much time they had lost that they could’ve spent together.

As he reached the top of the narrow staircase just outside the pianist’s apartment, he let out a breath and knocked on the door, butterflies forming in the pit of his stomach when he heard movement from inside the apartment. The door opened and the fluttering in his belly grew more pronounced at the sight of the fitted thermal shirt that hugged Sebastian’s muscles and jeans that hung loosely over his hips.

Rafael felt a stir in his belly as he step forward and smiled, lips touching lips in silent greeting. A gentle shock from the kiss pulled a moan from deep within him and it wasn’t long before his head tilted, tongue requesting entrance with a soft flick against Sebastian’s pout. Strong hands slid across his ribs and the pianist pulled him flush against a solid wall of muscle. Trembling arms wrapped around the musician, his fingers slipped through Sebastian’s soft, blonde hair as the two stumbled into the apartment.

He heard the door shut behind him and forced himself to pull away, breathless. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Sebastian replied as he smiled at the ADA. “How was dinner?”

“It was fine,” he said. “I missed you yesterday.”

Blue eyes lit up with the grin that the pianist aimed his way. “I missed you too but I have to admit that kiss was definitely worth it.” His hands came up and loosely took hold of Rafael’s coat, pulling him closer. “You want a drink?”

“Yes, please,” Rafael replied in a sigh. As Sebastian went into the kitchen, Rafael took off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack before he went to sit on the couch.

“I got some eggnog yesterday and some hot chocolate,” Sebastian said from the kitchen. “Which do you want?”

“Eggnog sounds good,” Rafael replied.

His mind was going a mile a minute, hand that wasn’t holding his gift for Sebastian fidgeting with the hem of his sweater, then the legs of his fitted jeans. On one hand, he’d been happy with their decision to take things slowly with regard to physical intimacy. But on the other hand, he had been finding it extremely difficult to stop thinking about wanting to feel Sebastian’s hard, naked body against his. He would find himself laying awake a night with images of the pianist’s narrow hips rocking against his backside, groaning against his pulse point as Rafael’s fingers kneaded the muscles in the musician’s back. He itched to feel Sebastian’s cock pushing inside him, reaching the place that hadn’t been touched by another man in so long.

Clearing his throat gently, Rafael shifted in his seat as the pianist came to sit beside him, handing his a glass of eggnog.

“You okay?” Sebastian asked, scooting back o  the cushions.

“Yeah,” Rafael answered as he offered a smile, gesturing to the eggnog. “Thank you.” He took a sip from the glass.

“Sure,” the pianist answered, turning to reach beneath the tiny tree that sat on the end table beside the couch. “I, uh, I got you something.” He took up the small, narrow, neatly wrapped box.

“I got you something too,” Rafael replied with a smirk, holding up the envelope he’d brought with him and handing it to Sebastian as the musician gave him the box.

Placing their eggnogs on the coffee table, they shared a glance before they each began to open their respective gifts. Sebastian pulled out two tickets to an off-Broadway musical and grinned.

“I’ve been wanting to see this,” he said with a chuckle.

“I know, Katie told me,” Rafael answered as his cheeks grew hot. “I thought we could go together.”

“What a little sneak.” Sebastian looked up at Rafael with a smirk and nodded. “Thank you. I’d love to go with you.” His eyes fell to the half-opened gift in Rafael’s hands and he passed a hand over the hair on the back of his head when the ADA continued to open it. “You can return them if you want--”

“--Don’t be ridiculous,” Rafael answered as he looked down at the black box with Bombas written across it. Opening the box, he took out three pairs of dress socks, each with different patterns and colors. “I love them.”

“Shit, really?” Sebastian replied in a surprised chuckle.

“Yes. Thank you,” Rafael said, leaning forward to press his lips against Sebastian’s. A jolt went through his chest, traveling to his stomach and resting in his hips.

A shiver fell over his shoulders, forming into a tingle that settled below his belt when the tip of a wet tongue licked against his lips. Tilting his head, he granted the pianist entrance and moaned when he felt a strong hand lay against his chest over his pounding heart. He felt his shaft stir in his pants as Sebastian hand slid up to his neck, then back down over his heart. Unable to keep his hands still, Rafael set the socks aside and pulled the musician closer with a sweaty palm on the back of his head, fingers sliding through the pianist’s soft curls. He could practically hear the the thumping of his heart in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the city coming from just outside the window by the piano and his skin grew hot as his hips arched as if to find contact.

The hand not occupied by Sebastian’s hair wedged between the musician’s side and the couch, wrapping around his lower back to bring their chests together. A gentle vibration from Sebastian’s hum buzzed against his lips, sending another tingle to his shaft. Rafael could feel a pool of wetness forming on his underwear as his cock slowly began to fill with arousal. Just as he had when he’d first arrived, the ADA pried himself away from the other man’s pout, breath heavy through his lips. He could smell both his own and Sebastian’s arousal in the stuffy room and feel drops of sweat running down the center of his chest beneath his sweater.

Still, when the musician rocked forward to begin their kiss anew, he placed a hand on Sebastian’s chest, applying the slightest bit of pressure. “If I start kissing you again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” Sebastian asked in a low voice as the hand on the ADA’s chest dropped to his mid-thigh.

Rafael’s eyes were fixed on Sebastian’s pout as he licked his own lips, catching the bottom petal between his teeth. He wanted it. It was fairly clear that the blonde also wanted it, but still he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“Should we talk about the hard on in the room?” Sebastian teased, earning a chuckle from Rafael.

“Trust me, there’s not just one in the room,” Rafael replied. “But yes, let’s talk.”

He watched Sebastian’s adam’s apple travel up and back down as the musician swallowed and nodded, moving back to put some space between them. Rafael’s arms trembled as cold air hit him and he shifted in his seat again in attempts to discreetly rearrange the partially-erect appendage in his pants.

“Last time I was tested was four months ago, full panel,” Rafael said between heavy breaths. “And I’m clean.”

“Three months ago. Full panel, also clean,” Sebastian answered as the hand draped on the back of the couch fell to allow his fingers to make contact with the other man’s neck . “And I’m on PrEP.”

“So am I,” Rafael replied as he moved closer to the pianist and placed a hand on his knee. His next question would be the deciding factor as to whether they would be sexually compatible and he could feel his heart in his throat as he took a deep breath. “My diet generally consists of high fiber. How about you?”

“No, but I like to bottom every once in a while so I usually keep an enema kit handy just in case the mood hits,” Sebastian answered. “I can dig light kink, but none of the hardcore stuff.”

“Me too,” Rafael replied with a smile. “It’s been a while for me so…”

“For me too,” Sebastian replied as one of fingers stroked the lobe of Rafael’s ear. “Slow...ish?”

“Ish,” Rafael whispered, smirking.

His eyes held those of the musician’s for a heavily silent beat before Rafael rocked forward to close the space between them again. Driven by the wanton hunger in the pit of his stomach, he moved his hand to the back of Sebastian’s head and gripped a fistful of hair as the musician pushed him onto his back on the couch. As the pianist’s lips made a hot path over his jaw and down to his neck, Rafael moaned and slipped his free hand under Sebastian’s thermal, bucking his hips upward as his frame buzzed with the feel of hard muscle pressed against him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Sebastian purred against his pulse point, sending another jolt to his shaft. His ass tensed as a hand gripped the side of one cheek and the ADA instinctively wrapped his leg around the other man’s hip, using the leverage to pull Sebastian’s body harder against him.

“Take this off, I wanna feel you,” Rafael whispered, bunching the other man’s thermal over his back. He whimpered as Sebastian lifted his upper body enough to whip his shirt off and exposing his chiseled torso. The ADA groaned as his fingers toyed with the thick tufts of hair that splayed the majority of the pianist’s chest and stomach. “God, you’re so sexy.”

Moaning beneath a half-smile, Sebastian pushed up to his knees as he reached for Rafael’s sweater and pulled it off. Sitting up to allow for his undershirt to be pulled off as well, Rafael leaned forward to kiss over the blonde’s stomach. He made a wet path to one nipple and earned a moan from the musician as he tugged on the ADA’s undershirt, pulling it off and cupping his face as he bent for another hungry kiss.

Rafael’s hands fumbled with the other man’s belt, one paw moving to stroke over the outline of Sebastian’s erection.

“Fuck, Raf,” the musician hissed as he reached down to return the favor, rubbing over the wet spot on the ADA’s jeans as their lips and tongues tangled.

Bringing his hand to join the other, Rafael unfastened the pianist’s jean, carefully pulling the zipper down. He felt the button of his own pants being unfastened and let out a hum of relief, furrowing his brows when he felt Sebastian stand.

“Come here,” the pianist whispered, eyes half-mast as he pulled Rafael to stand in front of him and pressed their lips together again. Unzipping his jeans, Sebastian slid his hand beneath the denim to grab the ADA’s ass.

“Fuck! Don’t, that makes me too hot,” Rafael moaned against the musician's lips.

Sebastian chuckled as his hand retreated. “Okay.”

The prosecutor pushed the other man’s jeans down, watching as he stepped of out each leg before pressing their lips together again. Toeing out of his shoes, Rafael moaned as the pianist tugged at his pants until they were in a pool on the floor behind him. Without warning, Sebastian wrapped one arm around his waist while the opposite hand curled under his knee and picked him up as though the ADA were made of air. Reflexively, Rafael wrapped his other leg around the pianist's hip and looked down with surprise.

“Oh my God,” Rafael groaned as Sebastian carefully laid him back on the couch, settling on top of him. He could feel the urge to have the other man inside of him intensify as his hole clenched in desire. “You’re really making me wanna get fucked right now,” he purred. His legs tightened around the other man’s hips, arching his own in attempts to gain stimulation where he most wanted it.

“Sh, sh,” Sebastian sounded against his lips, taking Rafael’s wrists and bringing them over his head. “Just hold onto that for a second,” he whispered, bringing his own hand to gently nudge the ADA’s legs off his hips before he reached between them and pulled the front of the prosecutor’s boxer briefs down, exposing the stiff muscle beneath.

Rafael’s hands gripped the arm of the couch behind him as a strong, calloused hand wrapped around his cock and stroked, smearing his precum over his shaft. His back arched, hips bucking upward as his teeth dug into his bottom lip and his eyes closed. He felt the pianist’s warm breath over his pout and lifted his head for a slow, passion-fueled kiss as the hand moved away. Rafael whimpered at the loss of stimulation, arching his hips to find it again only to be met with something smoother, harder, much slicker than the hand had been.

Growling against Sebastian’s lips, Rafael ground against the other man’s body, his carnal lust finding the perfect satisfaction in their movements, one against the other. Sweat now in abundance, the amount of friction became just enough to sate his hunger yet leave him wanting--no, needing--more. He ground faster against the pianist, who responded by grinding harder and Rafael’s arms wrapped around the other man. The fingers of one hand slid through damp blonde hair as their kisses became increasingly wanton and wet, a hurricane of lips and tongues fueling a perfect storm between their bodies.

A sting in the corner of his eye made him fully aware of the heat sparking from their movements and the only sounds he could hear were their heavy breaths and wetness between their hips. The wordlessness of their coupling made him dizzy with lust as he was brought closer and closer to oblivion, head tilting to taste the salty skin of Sebastian’s neck. Despite being pinned down by the weight of the man above him, Rafael had never felt stronger as their thrusts became frenzied, his focus being narrowed to Sebastian’s cock, hot, wet and throbbing against his.

“Fuck, Sebastian,” he let out in a trembling whisper, earning an animal-like moan from the man above him.

Their arms wrapped tightly around the other, containing the fire between their thrusting hips as Rafael lost control, moaning louder and digging his short nails into the musician’s slippery back as his cock pulsed and fluid burst from it’s tip. Not long after, Sebastian’s voice joined in the deafening bellows of their orgasms as more hot essence shot between them, coating their stomachs and chests in the evidence of their climax. Rafael trembled as his body experienced jolt after jolt of pleasure, releasing the knot of desire that had been built in him when they’d begun their dance.

Their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed to keep the sweat out, their hips gradually slowed, wanting to prolong their bliss as long as possible. And when Sebastian tilted his chin forward to kiss him, a whirlwind of emotions fell over him as if reconnecting with a lover from a previous life. His heart swelled with warmth as the musician collapsed on top of him.

Turning his head, Rafael pressed a kiss to the pianist’s forehead, unable to remember when he’d ever felt more content than he did in that moment and he lost track of how long they stayed that way, limp, unable and unwilling to move.

Slowly, Sebastian pushed himself up to meet the ADA’s eyes and brushed the man’s nose with his own before meeting his lips again in a gentle kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” Sebastian teased with a smirk, gaining a chuckle from the man beneath him.

“Merry Christmas.”

[sippin-on-red-wine]

High Tide | Chapter 7: Please

Title: High Tide, Chapter 7 | Please Author: @sippin-on-red-wine Rating: NO SMUTS IN THIS CHAPTER SORRRYYYYY Characters: Ed Sheeran x Kendra (original female character) Word Count:  3,225 Author’s Note: Sorry in advance again?

I refused to cry, blinking back the hot tears as the taxi pulled away from the curb. I knew I shouldn't, but I looked back at Ed, standing there on the sidewalk, looking broken.

I'm the one that should look broken.

“Where to, miss?”

Shit. I don't know, Mr. Taxi Driver, can't you tell I've just been burned by my international superstar boyfriend and I'm in a country that's not my own and I have nowhere and no one to run to?

“Do you have any hotel recommendations?”

“Sure, plenty. Are you looking for something reasonable, or ritzy?”

“Ritzy, please.”

“Right away then, miss.”

My brain kicked into logistical-detail mode.

Okay, first step, check into a hotel. I have literally nothing with me apart from my little purse which thankfully has my wallet. No fucking way am I going back to Ed’s just to get a suitcase of clothing. I'll just buy some things to tide me over….. tide me over til when? Should I fly home?

The thought of leaving London like this made me shudder. The last few days had been crazy wonderful. How did it all fall to pieces so quickly? Stop.

My phone was vibrating in my little purse. I flipped it over to check -- Lauren was calling. I hit ignore. She called again - ignore. After rejecting her third call, I felt a bit guilty, she probably was worried. I tapped out a quick response:

*Lo, I'm OK, I just need some space. Please.

My phone immediately started buzzing again, and I just got pissed and turned the damn thing off.

I pushed all the worries and questions down, focusing on getting a room somewhere and checking in.

The driver pulled up to a large high-rise building and I handed him a bank note from my purse before spilling out in front of the hotel's main entrance.

I approached the reception desk, suddenly very aware that my dress was probably too tight and short for a place like this.

“Hello, how may I assist you?” The man was young, and dressed in a black suit.

“Do you have any rooms available tonight, please?”

“Sure ma’am. Will one bed suffice?”

I nodded my head. He went to work, clicking and typing in the hotel’s computer system.

“Ahh, we've got a lovely King-sized room with a view of the city. Would you like to reserve it?”

“Yes, please.” City view sounds nice. I mean, I'm in London for the first time, may as well wallow in my self pity in style -- “Wait. Do you have anything larger….. like a suite?”

It turns out, he did. Several options, actually. He pulled out a brochure that included a few photos and highlighted the amenities of each. Oh, and the price per night, which made my eyes bulge out of my head a bit.

I handed over my AmEx card, silently glossing over the dollar figure he had given me for the week’s stay. It didn't matter, really, but it was much more than I was used to paying. Fuck it.

And so he handed me a key card, and I walked unsteadily in my heels over to the Elevator, where they had an actual attendant stationed. He was dressed in a full bell-hop type uniform, an older gentleman with kind eyes.

“Hello, what floor, please?” He asked, ushering me into the lift.

“Penthouse, please.”

I handed him the special key I had gotten at reception, the attendant inserted it in the wall panel and I watched as the “P” button lit up, and we were on our way.

“My name is Thomas, I'm happy to assist you with any needs you may have during your stay.”

His laugh lines were deep-set in his face. I found myself picturing him at home, smiling and adoring his family, maybe bouncing a grandchild on his lap.

I felt my eyes welling up again. Lock it up, K.

“Is there anything I can help you with, miss?”

“Um… actually, yes? Maybe? I wasn't really anticipating my stay, and so I don't have any of my things… is there, by chance, someone who could run out and pick up a few necessities for me?”

“Oh, yes, miss. We've got a concierge service who can handle just about any request you could throw their way. Just give the front desk a ring and they will be happy to assist.”

I sighed a breath of relief. I desperately wanted some leggings and a soft t-shirt, and hadn't been looking forward to going out shopping, bright and early tomorrow morning, dressed in my club clothes.

“Thomas, thank you so much.”

The elevator Ping!'d and Thomas turned the key once more before removing and returning it to me.

“My pleasure, miss. Please do not hesitate to ask, should you be needing anything else. Have a lovely evening.”

I walked out of the elevator into the foyer of my new suite. It was… stunning. Opulent. Beautiful. I was at a loss for words.

It was a large and sprawling suite, with a full kitchen, living room, a balcony, and at least two bedrooms. There was a beautiful wrought iron spiral staircase over in the corner of the lounge area. I kicked off my stupid shoes and dropped my purse on the dining room table, below an ornate glass chandelier. My toes sunk into the cream colored carpeting as I wandered around the suite, peeking in doors. The master bedroom was grand, all done up in beiges and golds and rich accent colors. There was a desk in the master, with a phone that I used to ring the concierge as Thomas had suggested.

I requested a pair of black leggings, a black tee shirt, white sneakers, and a long trench-style lined coat, as well as a toothbrush and a charger cable for my cell phone. The nice lady on the phone assured me they could get all that to me very soon, and that the charges would just be added to my room. I thanked her and almost said goodbye before deciding to order three bottles of champagne, too.

I sighed as I placed the phone back into it's little receiver cradle. Now what.

I strode over to the En Suite, finding a rather plush bathrobe hung on the wall for the taking. I shucked out of my ensemble and slipped into the rich navy blue robe, feeling a bit more at ease. I washed the makeup from my face, wishing I had a hair tie handy. Should make a list of things to pick up tomorrow.

Or maybe you should just go home tomorrow.

The elevator rung out, alerting me that someone was arriving. The doors opened and a younger-looking girl stepped out with a shiny silver cart, with a large ice bucket holding the booze I had requested. I thanked her and she was gone just as quickly as she had came.

Need alcohol. I cut the foil and popped the cork on one of the bottles, plucking one of the flutes from the tray, the second glass staying put. 

I crept over to the large brocade sofa and plunked down right in the center reaching for the television remote. It was official, I was out of things to do. Which is precisely when my brain thought it would be a good idea to re-live the past couple of hours.

My eyes were hot and stinging with tears, but I pushed them back. I am not going to cry. I am fine. I am a grown ass woman. I'll be okay.

But goddamnit, why? I had found my station in life, content with being alone as long as that meant I would never be deceived by a loved one. And then, him.

I should have known. He had only recently broken up with her when he turned up next door. I thought back to the day that I had driven his friends to the airport, going over to Ed's the next afternoon to find him drinking and chain-smoking himself into oblivion. He was broken. And it wasn't your job to fix him so why did you even try?

Just then, I remembered that I had turned my phone off. I was sure there were texts or voicemails waiting for me, and so I gulped down the rest of my champagne and retrieved my cell from my little purse, powering it on.

The messages came in one after the next after the next. A whole slew of texts and missed calls from Lauren popped up:

- Missed Call

*Kendra, where are you??

- Missed Call - Missed Call - Missed Call

*Please answer

- Missed Call Voice Message (1:03) - Missed Call

*Ed is having a fit, Kenn, please, just hear him out

- Missed Call - Voice Message (1:16)

*Okay, I get it. Will you please call me tomorrow? I'm worried about you xx

I clicked on the first voice message, setting it to speakerphone. It was Lauren, rambling about what a “fucking idiot” Ed was and how “bloody worried” she was and offering her guest bed up for me and “PLEASE pick up, Kendra.” It was loud in the background, like she was still at the club, or standing right outside of it, the bass thumping through the phone.

The next voicemail had less chaos going on in the background. “Kendra -- please,” Lauren's voice was pleading on the other end. And then, the sound of Ed’s voice “Lauren, let me --” garble garble garble.

“Kenny, I fucked up, I’m so--”

His voice rang out through the speaker like a shot straight to my heart. I quickly ended the message, not wanting to hear him anymore. Hearing that silly nickname that was just for him and no one else, it was.. unbearable.

Just then my phone rang yet again - a number I didn’t have stored this time. I turned off the t.v., shut off my cell, and went and climbed in the huge bed, feeling utterly alone, and waited for sleep to take me.

Ed…….

I watched her, in the back of the cab, drive away. It was almost like an out-of-body experience. Every nerve, every CELL in my being told me to run after her, to scream, to fight, to not take ‘No’ for an answer. But I was just… stuck. Frozen. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

I kept my eyes trained on the taillights of that cab until it was impossible to see anymore. I heard my name, over and over again, but it sounded distant - like I was underwater and they were shouting from up on the diving board.

Lauren. It was Lauren. She was shaking my shoulders, trying to get me to snap to it. “Ed! Come ON, we have to get you back inside! Paps…”

Whothefuckcares--

But she gave me one good yank and I followed her back inside the club, all the blood rushing back to my head.

“Christ, Ed, why didn’t you tell her Poppy was going to be here?”

“Call her.” It wasn't a question.

“What?”

“Call her!” I was practically shouting. I winced, realizing how I sounded. “Please, Lauren. Call her. I don't know where she's gone.”

Lauren pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts, til she found her name. She set it to speaker, we could barely hear over all the commotion in the club but when it went to voicemail, I wasn't surprised that she didn't answer.

Lauren tapped away furiously at her phone screen, texting her.

“Jesus fuck, Ed, what happened?”

“I fucked up, Lauren. Can you please ring her again?”

Lauren called her three more times. I kept willing her to pick up on the other end, but she didn't.

“She texted--” Lauren threw her phone to me and I quickly scrambled to open the message.

*Lo, I'm OK, I just need some space. Please.

The tears were back, hot and spilling out from my eyelids despite my valiant effort to keep them in. I clicked into the text, bringing up her Contact info and with it, a silly picture of her and Lauren from the day Kendra had taken us out whale watching. It had been the very end of Summer, then. Her skin was tanned, her face sprinkled with freckles. She was wearing a white linen top, and my aviators -- I offered them to her when her shades had fallen and been stepped on. That had been one of the best days I had had in weeks, months maybe.

Seeing her face in the photo, silly, with her tongue sticking out and a peace symbol thrown up next to her head -- it absolutely gutted me.

What have you done?

I clicked the little telephone icon, ringing her again. Straight to voicemail this time.

My stomach was hot and sour as I raced to type out a message to her: Please answer.

“Ed, she said she's okay. Why don't I take you home, c’mon, there's nothing you can do from here.” I couldn't meet her eyes, but I nodded and handed the phone back to her.

Lauren grabbed me by the hand and dragged me back through the club, toward the back exit where Kendra and I had come in. She pushed the doors open and the cool night air flooded my lungs.

I felt numb. My mind racing, where is she? Will she come back? Is she safe?

I thought back to the night when she had told me about her past, how she had just up & left everything, not even saying goodbye. Will she do that again?

I braced myself on the stone exterior wall of the club, both hands out as I retched onto the ground between my feet.

“Christ, Ed.” Lauren was there, patting my back as I emptied the contents of my stomach, which was mostly booze.

A few moments passed while I collected myself, and Lauren pulled me into the car that was waiting there for me.

The ride home felt like an eternity. Lauren sat in silence beside me, her hand resting lightly on my knee. The lamplights blurred together, the whir of London at night dulled by the knot in my chest.

“Ed,” she spoke softly. “You gotta clue me in here, what the hell happened?”

“I… she didn't know Poppy was going to be there.”

“And?” She pushed.

“I was stupid, I wanted to look… good, in front of her.”

“Okay, well that seems pretty normal?”

“I… didn't tell her that Poppy would likely be at the party. And I… kind of, got a little handsy with Kendra after I noticed she had gotten there. And her fucking dress, I pushed that dress on her even though she didn't seem comfortable in it, it just looked so goddamn good on her and…”

“Oh, Ed.”

“I came out of the bathroom and I just saw her from the back, stalking down the stairs like a bat out of hell. Did Poppy say something to her? Did you see?”

“No, no, I don't think so. I had just gotten there and your lovely Ex was staring daggers at Kendra, and I, um, mentioned her…. She was definitely taken aback.”

“She's going to hate me.”

“Ed, I'm sure it will be OK.”

“You didn't hear the things she said to me outside. I used her, Lauren, I'm fucking selfish and childish and I fucked it up.”

“Hey. Take a breath. We’ll get her, alright?”

“Will you call her again?”

She granted my request, though we both knew it was hopeless at this point. Her voicemail message rang out of the speaker phone as Lauren inhaled, mentally preparing some new desperate plea designed to get Kendra to pick up the phone.

Kendra -- please,” She started, but I just couldn't listen to her ask, no, beg, on my behalf again.

“Lauren, let me --” I reached out for the phone, pulling it up to my face. “Kenny, I fucked up, I’m so sorry. I don't deserve it but please, please, just call me. I can't.. I didn't..” I struggled for the right words. “This is real, US, everything - it's all real, it's not… you must think… fuck, just, PLEASE, answer? I need to know you're okay.”

Kendra……

I woke the next day, feeling surprised that I had slept so soundly. I wouldn't say well.

I hadn't had any actual dreams, per se, but I just had this haunting feeling like I had re-lived the previous night over and over, unable to wake, stuck in that reality.

I yawned and stretched out in the massive bed, safe under the cover of the fluffy white comforter.

But the safety of the comforter couldn't protect against my own thoughts.

Alright, Kendra. Time to get up and figure out what you're doing.

I threw the covers back and got up out of bed, re-tying the knot in my robe. That reminds me….

I walked out into the main living space of my Penthouse Fucking Suite and saw a neat little stack of packages near the door. It felt a little… odd, picturing a young concierge clerk running out to the shops and choosing the things from my list. But I was more than appreciative to not have to get back in my dress and heels.

I grabbed up the boxes and bags, setting them on the chic metal & glass dining table, extracting all the things I had asked for. I unraveled the cord of the cell phone charger and plugged my phone in to charge up. I pulled the tags off of the few basic clothing items, then dressed myself in the tight black leggings and v-neck tee.

I powered up my cellphone and watched another slew of missed calls register on the screen, the last one had been a little past 4AM, from the number I didn't have saved in my contacts.

And a single text from that same number.

*K, you deserve so much better than me. But I can't let you go. Please x

And suddenly, those tears I had been battling all broke loose, rushing fast and hot down the front of my cheeks.

Did I overreact? Okay, so he wanted to make his ex jealous, I'd be lying if I said I'd never tried especially hard to look good in front of an Ex.

I shrugged off the bathrobe and tugged on the tight black leggings. They were the size I asked for, but European sizes must be a bit less… generous, because man those suckers were tight. I struggled to pull them up over my ass… which only reminded me of Ed being grabby the night before. He was very affectionate, but this had been different. And now that I knew his Ex had been sat there, ten feet away and facing right toward us, all you could see was the smug smile on his face which I had, at the time, interpreted to be happiness or horniness or tipsiness. But now I knew, it wasn’t any of those. It was Look What I Got.

The tears dried up and I buckled down on my resolve. Be honest with yourself. This, plus him wanting to sell his gorgeous fucking house, because it reminds him of her?

He's not over her.

It was time to go home.

Thank you for reading !!!!!!! And not killing me !!!!!!!!!

[greatpretending]

This City Never Sleeps (When You’re Bleeding Out)

Word Count: 3195

Pairing: Eventual Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Warnings: Lots of blood and DIY surgery. Cursing.

Summary: Sequel to This City Never Sleeps. Peter is injured after a night of friendly, neighborhood vigilantism.

Tags: @seargantbcky​ @darlin-you-bitch​ @emily-ily2​ @rosep16​ @comics-and-stuff​ @t4rt-deco​ @octopishisahybridanimal​ @slythergirlimagines​ I really hope I got everyone tagged who asked and I’m really sorry if I missed you.

A warm breeze drifted through your open glass door to your desk where you were working on your Geometry homework for the next day. The sun had set not half an hour ago, and the occasional sound of a passing car or plane was the only thing to disrupt your concentration. Tony was out of town, as usual, so you had the house to yourself without any loud rock music filtering through the walls.

Tap-tap… tap-tap-tap… tap-tap...tap...tap.

Your fingers hit your calculator rhythmically. You heard a woman laugh outside.

Then it was silent again.

The silence was both a blessing and a curse. It was good for concentration, but it also made you feel lonely. Silence was empty. Homes were full. When you first moved in with Tony, you used to play piano music out in the living room so you could pretend it was your dad playing while you sat in your room. Eventually, you grew out of that and learned to live with the silence. Appreciate it, even.

BAM!

You startled a little at the sound of a gunshot outside, though that wasn’t totally uncommon either. It was probably about three blocks away by the sound of it. You turned back to your homework, and not two minutes later you could hear sirens in the distance.

Just another night in Queens.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump on the terrace outside your room, and you spun around in your chair, hand flying to your chest.

“Peter!” you exclaimed, seeing your friend awkwardly leaning in the doorway. He had his Spider-Man suit on, and his mask was pulled up just past his hairline. “What the hell, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“I was just in the neighborhood,” Peter said. “I thought I’d… swing by.”

“You did not just make a pun about yourself,” you said. Peter winced, and not because of his bad joke. Just as soon as your heart rate had slowed down, it picked right back up. Peter was hurt.

He was gripping his right bicep, and blood was dripping down from between his fingers. You jumped up from your desk and rushed over to him. You didn’t say a word as you gently moved his hand out of the way to look at the wound, then snapped your head up to look at him.

“Did you get fucking shot?” you asked.

“You should see the other guy,” Peter said, trying to smile through his pain. It came out more like an awkward grimace. “Well, you probably will on the news tomorrow.”

The gunshot and sirens you heard before must have been from Peter’s fight. “Stay here,” you told him, then rushed to your bathroom to grab a towel. You pulled the belt off your bathrobe and went back outside.

Slinging the towel over your shoulder, you lifted Peter’s arm from his side and tied the belt tightly around it, a few inches above the wound, as a makeshift tourniquet. You then firmly wrapped the towel around the wound to decrease the blood flow as much as possible.

“Come on,” you said, starting to guide him inside. “I’ll have Paul drive us to the hospital.”

“No, no, no, no, no.” Peter said, stopping. “I can’t go to the hospital! I don’t have any other clothes, and then they’ll call Aunt May and then she’ll find out I’m Spider-Man and she’ll freak out!” You looked at him incredulously.

“Peter, there is a bullet in your arm! You need to see a doctor!”

“I thought you could take it out!”

“What the fuck makes you think that!?”

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged. “You got the highest grade in anatomy and physiology, and you’re literally building a heart regulator in your spare time?”

“That doesn’t make me a surgeon!” you countered, flabbergasted. Things went quiet for a moment, and Peter put his free hand over yours where you held the towel around his arm.

“(Y/N) please, the only other option I have is to do it myself. I really need your help,” he said, soft and sincere.

You didn’t move for a moment. This was a terrible idea. If you tried to do this you would probably make the injury worse. And then Peter would lose his arm completely. You looked into his pleading eyes and sighed.

“I’ll look at it,” you said. “But if you hit an artery or a tendon I am taking you to the hospital.”

“Deal,” Peter said.

Getting more nervous by the second, you took Peter to the workshop, shakily punched in the passcode to get in, and sat him down on a bench. He was looking around like a kid in a candy shop, and you remembered that he hadn’t ever been in there before. You didn’t have time to show him around, though, you kind of had a friend with a bullet in his arm to worry about.

“You need to get this off as much as you can,” you said, smacking the button on his chest to release the tension in his suit. “It’s going to get in my way.”

You helped him pull his good arm out, then quickly removed the towel and bathrobe tie to get it off his other arm.

“Aaahh,” he hissed as you peeled the suit away from the wound site, dried blood making the spandex stick to his skin.

“Sorry, sorry,” you winced, and a fresh wave of blood seeped from around the bullet. As soon as his hand was free and the suit was pooled around his waist, you replaced your makeshift tourniquet and the towel. “Lie down,” you instructed. You took off your watch and fastened it onto Peter’s uninjured wrist. “PURDUE, can you monitor Peter’s vital signs, please? Just let me know if there’s anything to worry about.”

“Of course.”

“Don’t move,” you told Peter.

You did your best to recall everything you knew about treating wounds. After Tony had come home beaten and broken for the first time after you moved in with him, you made sure to get into some first aid classes at the American Red Cross so you could be more helpful in the future. The worst thing was feeling helpless and useless when someone you cared about was in pain.

You pulled off your sweater, because sleeves are unsanitary, leaving you in your tank-top, and pulled your hair back, fastening it with the hair tie you’d left by the sink in there last week. You retrieved the large first-aid kit from the wall and brought it to the counter near Peter, opening it up, but not touching anything inside yet. You then went back to the sink and washed your hands. You took the few minutes of scrubbing to calm your breathing. This wasn’t so bad. Everything would be fine. It was just a bullet wound. In your best friend’s arm. No big deal. You’d seen worse on Tony before.

God, you wished Tony were here.

You thought about calling him for a moment, but you figured there wasn’t much he’d be able to do over the phone, and it would probably upset Peter. You needed the both of you to be as calm as possible right now.

When your hands were clean and dry, you went back to the first-aid kit and carefully put on a pair of gloves.

“Are those real Iron Man suits?” Peter asked you, looking at the wall to his left.

“Yes,” you said. “Can you unwrap the towel?”

Peter reached over with his good hand, carefully loosening the towel from around his bicep. The bleeding had all but stopped, only trickling slowly from the wound now. You took a bit of gauze and cleaned up what you could, being as gentle as possible. The butt of the bullet was sticking out from Peter’s skin, angled up towards his shoulder, so you hoped it wasn’t deep enough to cause any serious damage. It looked as if he had had his arm out in front of him when it happened. He was probably shooting a web.

“Why is that blue one so small?” Peter asked, talking about the suits again.

“It’s mine,” you replied, not looking up from your work. Peter’s head whipped around to look at you, which caused his whole body to shake a little. You flinched back instinctively.

“It’s yours!?” Peter said, eyes wide.

“Yes,” you said, a little irritated. “Can we talk about it later? I’m trying to take a bullet out of your body.”

“Right, sorry,” Peter apologized, looking back up at the ceiling. With the wound mostly clean, you prodded his arm in a few places.

“It doesn’t look like it hit your Brachial artery,” you said. “And it’s not low enough to have gotten the tendon.”

“So I don’t have to go to the doctor?” Peter asked.

“You should have gone straight to the doctor,” you said shortly. You sighed deeply. “But I’ll do my best to take it out, yes.”

“Thank you,” Peter said.

“Don’t thank me until after you don’t wind up with permanent nerve damage or a severe infection,” you replied. You set back to work, opening an iodine packet and dipping a couple cotton swabs into it. “PURDUE, can you scan the wound to see if I missed anything?” you asked, grateful you could get a second opinion from somewhere. A blue light swept up and down Peter’s arm.

“Peter’s rapid cell regeneration is already causing his body to reject the foreign object,” PURDUE told you. “After it is removed, only a tight gauze wrap will be necessary.”

“Well, that’s good,” you said. “I definitely am not ready to give you stitches.”

You took one of the iodine-soaked swabs out of the packet and gently scrubbed circles around the bullet hole, careful to not get any in the wound. After about thirty seconds, you pulled the second swab out and started again. Peter’s breathing became a little more labored, and you saw the muscles in his face tense up.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said. You hated that you were causing him even more pain.

“It’s fine,” Peter said through his teeth.

You discarded the iodine and cotton swabs, and picked up a fold of gauze from the first aid kit. You began feeling flustered again, and felt a lump forming in your throat. You looked from the wound to Peter’s face. You could tell he was trying really hard to not show you how nervous he was.

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” you asked one more time, hoping he would change his mind and have you take him to a professional. He turned to meet your eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “I want you to do this. I need you to do this. And you know what? You can do this. I trust you a hundred percent.”

With Peter’s reassurances, you took a deep breath. “Okay,” you said. “This is going to hurt. Like, a lot. So bite down on this.” You handed him the gauze and he put it in his mouth, settling it between his molars. You took a sturdy pair of tweezers from the kit. “Ready?” you asked, and Peter nodded.

After one last calming breath, you gripped the bullet firmly with the tweezers.

And you began pulling.

Peter’s body immediately tensed up, and you held his arm down with your free hand. His breathing grew heavy and labored, and he bit down on the gauze in his mouth, grunting around it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you repeated. Tears welled up in your eyes as you pulled on the bullet, firmly and steadily. After just a few long, antagonizing seconds, the metal slid free of Peter’s body. Gasping, he spat the gauze out of his mouth.

“Damnit, that hurt,” he said. You dropped the tweezers and bullet onto the counter as your hands started trembling again.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again. The tension in the room had snapped and you were left shaking from the relief. You distracted yourself by using more gauze to put pressure on the wound, which made Peter flinch again. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” Peter was quick to say. “You did amazing, thank you so much.”

You didn’t respond, just set to work dressing the wound. This, you knew how to do. After it was wrapped and fastened, you helped Peter sit up. Things remained quiet as you began cleaning up, throwing the bloody gauze and towel into the trash.

“Want a souvenir?” you joked, gesturing toward the bullet.

“No thanks,” Peter chuckled.

You went back to the sink, pulling out a washcloth and wetting it down. You brought it back to Peter and started wiping the blood off of his arm.

“See?” Peter said. “You’re already a great doctor.”

You smiled at that, laughing a little shakily. You lifted his arm from his side so you could clean the blood off his ribcage. That’s when you realized he was shirtless. It hadn’t really registered earlier with all of the adrenaline and panic, but you had a shirtless boy sitting in front of you. A cute shirtless boy. A cute shirtless boy who was ripped. And also a superhero.

After just a very brief moment of hesitation, you started wiping away the blood on his side. You mentally smacked yourself upside the head. Peter was your friend, this was not a sexual situation, and you don’t feel that way about him anyway. It was just the adrenaline getting to you, that’s all.

“Uhm,” you said after he was mostly cleaned off. “If you want to go into my bathroom and try to get more of this blood off you can. I’ll see if I can find some clothes for you.” You handed him the washcloth, but you didn’t meet his eyes, embarrassed by where your train of thought had taken you.

“Thanks,” Peter said, sliding off the bench. He took one last look around the workshop before heading down the hall.

You finished cleaning up, then locked up the workshop and went into Tony’s room, looking for some sweats he may have left there. They would be a little big on Peter, but it was better than him trying to get back into his bloody, torn suit. When you found something suitable, you went back into your room, and into your en suite.

The door was open, so you didn’t think anything of walking right in, but when you did, you were met with a mostly-naked Peter. He had taken his suit completely off and set it next to the sink, leaving him just in his boxers. Your face caught fire.

“Uh,” you said awkwardly, trying to look at anything but Peter’s skin. Your eyes met in the mirror. A faint blush crept up on his cheeks, but he didn’t say anything. “Sorry, here, I’ll just--” You replaced the suit with the spare clothes and left the room quickly.

You took Peter’s suit to the laundry room and filled the sink with cold water, berating yourself your your awkwardness. After setting the suit to soak, you went into the kitchen, poured a glass of apple juice, and grabbed a small bag of pretzels. You took the snack back to your bedroom, where you found Peter sitting on the edge of your bed, looking extra small in the over-sized clothes.

“Here,” you said, handing him the glass and the bag. “You lost a lot of blood, your body needs to replace the fluids.”

“Thanks,” he said. You pushed past your previous awkwardness and climbed up on the bed, gesturing for him to join you in leaning back against the headboard.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask before,” you started as he munched on the pretzels. “How’d you wind up with a bullet in you?”

“It wasn’t really anything exciting,” Peter said with a shrug. “Intercepted a mugging, guy had a gun, shot me, I webbed him down, then called the police from his phone.”

“Nothing exciting,” you repeated with a laugh. “I think I heard it happen, though.”

“Probably. It didn’t happen far from here.” Peter said, then turned to look at you excitedly. “What I want to know is when you were going to tell me you had an Iron Man suit!”

“It’s not really mine, per se,” you confessed. “I mean, it is, but I don’t get to use it whenever I want. It’s for emergencies only.”

“Like when aliens attack New York City?”

“Like when aliens attack New York City,” you agreed. “That, and a short training session were the only times I’ve worn it.”

“That’s lame,” Peter said, and you shrugged.

“It doesn’t bother me. I don’t think I could handle the stress or responsibility of being a superhero. It’s just not for me.”

“Yeah,” Peter said. “It’s already not easy, and I’ve only been doing it for a few months. I don’t know how the other guys do it.”

“With a lot of support from their friends and family,” you said, looking at Peter with a smile. “Also… a lot of therapy.” You both laughed.

You fell into a comfortable silence, each pulling out your phone and scrolling through. You let the events of the evening settle, and you began to wind down. Eventually you pulled youtube up on your TV and started watching videos together. You hoped he didn’t notice that most of your recommended videos involved Spider-Man. If he did, he didn’t say anything.

Through the hour of cat videos and stunt fails, you both gradually slid down until you were horizontal, and before long, Peter was nodding off to sleep.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly, sitting up. “I should head home.”

“Don’t be silly,” you argued, sitting up as well. “Just stay here.”

“But… but we have school tomorrow. Aunt May will freak if I’m not there in the morning.”

“So text her and tell her you’re staying at Ned’s. You can’t use your arm right now, anyway, so you can’t spidey your way up to your window,” you said. “What are you going to do, knock on the door in the middle of the night and have her let you in?”

“Yeah… you’re right,” Peter conceded, relaxing back onto the pillows and pulling out his phone.

“We’ll get up early enough to stop by your house so you can change,” you said.

“Okay.”

You played another video, and things went quiet again. Last time Peter had spent the night he’d stayed in one of the guest rooms. Somehow there was a silent understanding that that wouldn’t be happening this time.

Peter eventually drifted off to sleep, looking peaceful with his lips slightly parted and his slow, even breathing. You shut off the TV.

“Hey PURDUE?” you said quietly, not wanting to disturb your friend.

“Yes?” The AI said through the speaker in your earring.

“Please don’t tell Tony about this.”

“I sense no danger, therefore I have nothing to report to Mr. Stark.”

“Thank you.”

You took one more look at the boy sleeping next to you before shutting off the light.

What am I going to do with him?

[prophetparadox]

Birds of a Feather Chapter 22: Stand By Me (A Prompto x OC Soulmate AU)

Chapter 21 <-/AO3/-> Epilogue

Masterlist

Word count: 4,130

AW YEAH, FINAL CHAPTER! JUST GOT THE EPILOGUE LEFT! WHO’S EXCITED?

Anyway, while nothing is actually shown, gonna leave a little warning for potential NSFW content. Sorry, no sexy times actually happen here, but I’ll write that one day. But I want to keep this story on my main blog so yeah. That and this chapter was long enough as is, if I put that scene in it’d be even longer! This was a fun chapter to write, and I hope you all enjoy it and get excited for the epilogue!

Tagging: @cupnoodle-queen, @nifwrites, @takuahijackedthetardis, @lunarlapin, @fujinhildr, @grumpyoldmoogle, @thefriendlytonberry, and @themaidoflight22. This may be close to the ending, but I plan on writing more about these two dorks so let me know if you want to be tagged!

They couldn't believe it. Noctis was gone.

After killing what used to be Ravus Nox Fluret, they'd all stayed back to fight the daemons so Noctis could retrieve the Crystal. What they hadn't known was that would be the last they'd see of him for a long time to come. When they went to meet with him, only Ardyn was there, telling them that he now resided inside the Crystal. Prompto's anger overtook him as the chancellor walked away, and without hesitation he shot him. Only for him to get right back up as if he'd never been injured.

To say the situation was rough would be an understatement.

But with nothing else they could do, the group of four left Zegnatus Keep and made the flight back to Lestallum. No one spoke the entire time, the air hard to read as everyone was trying to make sense of the situation. Katia was clinging to Prompto, still in shock from everything that had happened. She felt like she was about to overload from it all, the feeling of Prompto's hand in hers the sole thing keeping her from breaking out into sobbing.

After what felt like far too long in silence, they finally reached the one safe city left. Ignis went his own way, saying there was business he had to take care of now that he was back in the city. The remaining three went to the Leville, being lucky to get two rooms with how hectic things were. Katia overheard Gladio tell Prompto that he was leaving them alone and that he'd try to get a hold of Cor, but that was all she got from their conversation as she headed into the bathroom for a long-needed shower.

She'd hoped that the running water would help calm her nerves, but it just made her think about everything she'd been through in the past week. How Ardyn had hurt her, how much the truth actually hurt her, all that could go through her head was everything that had happened since she jumped off the train no matter how much she tried to think about anything else. As she'd gotten out of the shower and washed her face with sink water, she looked in the mirror and saw herself for the first time since she'd been captured.

She didn't even look like herself anymore.

Exiting the bathroom wearing nothing but a bathrobe, she sat down onto the bed and tried to keep herself from crying. She stared at the barcode, feeling disgusted with herself and what she really was. She tried to cover it back up with the bandanna, but it still felt like it was glaring at her, reminding her of the truth. The next thing she knew, Prompto was sitting next to her on the bed, a solemn look on his face. Not even he could brighten things up now. "Are you gonna be okay?" he asked.

She sat there for a moment, uncertain about how to answer that question. "I...I don't know..." she said.

"You wanna talk about it? We're alone now, and you don't have to worry about anyone walking in on us. So you can let everything out. I'm here to listen."

She couldn't do it anymore, she couldn't hold back the tears that desperately needed to escape. She buried her head in Prompto's chest as the tears fell and the sobs escaped. Prompto just wrapped his arms around her, stroking her damp hair in the hopes that it'd help comfort her. Among the muffled sobbing he managed to hear her say "It's all my fault!"

"What? No it isn't, what makes you say that?"

"I should've noticed it was Ardyn on the train! I should've stayed with Noct instead of jumping off to find you! Hell, I shouldn't have even come with you guys because then none of this would've happened!"

"Woah, Kat, calm down, you're thinking irrationally again. What happened on the train wasn't your fault, none of us could've known what Ardyn was doing. And jumping off the train, you were just doing what you felt was right. I would've done the same thing if it were you who'd gotten pushed off," He let go of her and let her sit back up. "But why do you think you shouldn't have come with us? None of what happened was because of you."

"Prom, I'm not just some escaped MT, I was purposefully let out! I only thought I was escaping! Their goal was to dump me in Insomnia from the beginning! I was supposed to be their spy! My headaches were the cause of them trying to activate my 'programming'! I have no idea how much of my life was mine to control, I have no idea how many of my decisions were of my own free will!" She stood up from the bed, her body shaking as she went towards the window. "For all I know, I became friends with Noct because that's what I was told to do! I'm just some failed experiment they repurposed, and they've probably kept their eyes on me my whole life! All those times the Empire attacked us was probably because they knew where I was! People are dead and the sun is gone, and it's all my fucking fault!" She continued to cry, her fears and anxieties laid out.

Prompto said nothing, instead he silently walked over to Katia and started hugging her again. The crying stopped as she looked at him in confusion, noticing that tears of his own were slipping down his face. "Katia Ferrum, you know that none of that is true," he said, stopping her before she could ask what he was doing. "You know why you and Noct became friends, and that's because he literally pushed me over to where you were sitting so I would talk to you. He's been our wingman since day one. It had nothing to do with some 'programming' or whatever. It's because of me. And I read the papers, they had no idea where you were or if you were even alive. They had no way to track you or influence you. Everything you've done has been because of your decisions, not theirs. No one's dead because of you. You're not their experiment. You're a person with hopes, feelings, dreams, and they're all your own.

"Besides, it's a good thing you came with us. If you hadn't, I'd probably still be chasing after Cindy like an idiot," He wiped the tears from her face. "And I'd never have realized the one I really love was right in front of me. I'd never have found my soulmate. I'd already given up hope of ever meeting them years ago, and I'm so happy it turned out to be you."

"Prom..."

"Everything you're thinking, it's because of what Ardyn did to you. Because this isn't you. I don't know what he did to you, but I can tell it's messing you up badly. And I swear to you, I'll stay here by your side and help you get through this. I won't leave you, my Chocobabe."

A small snicker forced itself out of Katia, a small smile following it. "'Chocobabe'? Really?" Her voice was still shaky and the tears were still flowing, but he got her to laugh and smile and that was enough for him.

"There's the girl I know and love," He pressed his forehead against hers. "And I mean it. No matter how long it takes to get over the damage Ardyn did, I'll be right by your side."

The two of them eventually made their way onto the bed, Katia's fears subsided for now. The look in her eyes was enough to tell Prompto that she still wasn't better, but he knew this would take small steps. They snuggled against each other, taking in the warmth of the other. It felt peaceful, it felt right. They were together again and it was going to stay that way. But a few things were still bothering Katia. "Hey Prom?"

"Yeah?"

"What were you and Gladio talking about?"

"Oh right, that. Well, seeing as this is the safest place and all the refugees are scrambling to get here, we can't stay here forever. There just isn't enough room. So for now we're recovering and figuring out what to do while we wait for Noct. Gladio's gonna try to get in touch with Cor, see what he thinks we should do, and then we're gonna go from there. But no matter what, I'm gonna make sure we stick together."

"Alright, makes sense. What was it that you wanted to talk to me about that had to wait?"

"That? Well, erm, that can wait a bit. I'm not exactly ready to talk about it now that I think about it. But soon, I promise. Just give it some time, okay?" His cheeks were tinted pink as he spoke.

She felt confused, but figured he had his reasons. "Alright. If you say so."

"You getting hungry at all? 'Cause I'm starving. I can go get us some food."

While she was feeling rather hungry, the idea of Prompto leaving scared her. She was still afraid that she'd discover this was nothing but a dream. But she also didn't want to leave the hotel, for fear that she'd be taken back to that horrible place. This was definitely going to take some time, but she had to make a decision.

Prompto noticed the look of uncertainty on her face, instantly knowing what she was worried about. "Ya know, Gladio's in the room right next to us. If you're worried about being alone then you can go hang out with him while I grab some food. Besides, I'm sure he's worried 'bout you, so hanging out with him is sure to make him chill out."

There he goes again, knowing what was bothering her and knowing just what to say to help her worries. "I could go for a grilled cheese right now."

"No problem, I'll go find one for you," He kissed her scarred cheek and sat up from the bed. "If you're worried about me, just send me a text and I'll whisk those fears away."

Katia tried to smile. "Okay, got it."

Prompto made his way to the door, turning back to look at her. "By the way, you look a lot better without the blood on your face. Still as adorable as ever too."

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

Two weeks passed. It felt like so much longer without the rising sun to tell them of another day. Just as he'd expected, Katia's recovery was slow, but progress was being made. In just those two weeks, she started to smile again. She'd also started to go back out onto the streets again, although she covered her face when she did. She claimed it was so she wouldn't freak people out in the marketplace. The scars themselves she began getting used to. No longer did she look in the mirror and recoil, they were just another part of her now.

But Prompto could tell that there was still a long way to go. Her sleeping was worse than before. Either she couldn't get sleep at all, or she'd need to be woken up from the terrible nightmares. Dark circles had already began to form under her eyes. She also hadn't been acting like herself. She still laughed at his jokes and had those quirks that he thought was absolutely adorable, but her anxiety was still eating away at her. He did everything he could to calm her down, but her fears would come back eventually. He kept going though, because he knew he could bring her back. He was the only one who could.

Cor had finally gotten in touch with them, informing the four of them that the daemons were prowling all over the place. There were only so many hunters out there, and they needed help. So that's what they'd do. Ignis decided he was going to stay in Lestallum. He was still getting used to his blindness and wanted to stay in familiar ground while he got his skills back. And while he didn't say it, it was obvious he was staying there to be with the woman he loved. Gladio wanted to go back to Cape Caem to make sure Iris and Talcott were still alright, then he was going to mostly stay around Duscae and come back to Lestallum when needed to. Prompto and Katia decided they would go back to Hammerhead. They'd gotten word that Cid and Cindy were still safe and the outpost had been converted into an HQ for hunters. Plus it was close to Insomnia, their old home, and Prompto had a feeling that Noctis would return around there. Everyone would keep in touch, making sure everyone was alive and delivering supplies if needed. All in all, the plans seemed solid.

Katia stared out the window in their hotel room, watching the people go about their day as best they could in this world. She was gonna miss this place. She knew she'd come back, but tomorrow she'd be leaving for Hammerhead. It felt sad in a sense. She had just started getting used to life here, but she knew they couldn't stay. There just wasn't enough room. She glanced over at Prompto, who was looking over everything they had and making sure it was packed up. Not that there was much to look through. All they had was what they scavenged from the wrecked Regalia and a few other things they'd purchased the past two weeks. "Hey Prom?"

Prompto looked up from their bags, making his way over to his girlfriend. "What is it Kat? You need something? You okay?"

Katia shook her head, she loved Prompto and was happy that he cared, but sometimes he went a little overboard. "No, I'm okay. It's just...shit, how do I put this?"

"You need a sec?"

"No, no, I think I got it," She took a deep breath. "I was wondering, isn't this the same hotel room we stayed in when we confessed?"

Prompto blinked, surprised by the strange question. He looked around the room, looking for a sign that this was that very same room but found nothing. "Maybe? I can't tell. Why?"

Katia's face started turning red. "Well, I was thinking, since this is our last night in Lestallum and all, and if this is the same room, maybe we could have, um, another first in here?"

"Another first? Kat what're you-" And then suddenly the meaning of her words hit him. Was she seriously suggesting that of all things? He looked at the bed not occupied by their bags, his face heating up at the thought. "You mean, you wanna have, you wanna do..." He couldn't find himself finishing his sentence, but she seemed to get the idea.

"I-I mean, we don't have to! If you don't want to, because I do want to and all! That is-"

"No! I mean, I'm cool with it! I just didn't think you wanted to yet!"

"Really? So you wanna do it?"

"Yeah! Definitely!"

The two of them stood there in silence, their faces red as tomatoes. They had no idea what to do now. This was a first for both of them. "I'm gonna, go get ready!" Prompto said, dashing into the bathroom.

Katia took another deep breath. There was nothing to worry about, it was just sex. They were both inexperienced, that's all. They were gonna have to do it at some point anyway, might as well get it over with. Then it'd be more comfortable later on. Besides, she knew the rumors. Sex with one's soulmate was supposed to be different, special, so even with their total awkwardness about this the experience would be something they'd never forget.

She began taking off her clothes, lying them on one of the chairs as she did so. She glanced at the bandanna on her arm, which hadn't left her arm since they came here. Well, it wasn't like she needed it right now. She took it off and set it with the rest of her clothes, exposing her markings. With that, she walked over and sat on the bed, anticipating Prompto's return and feeling strangely self-conscious about her exposed body.

It wasn't long before he finally stepped out of the bathroom, clothes in one hand and a small wrapper in the other. At least they were being safe. Prompto had shed his gloves and bracelets as well, probably with the same idea in mind. After dumping his clothes on another chair, he turned to her and froze. She suddenly hid her chest from view. "I-I know, they're not as big as Cindy's are..."

"Huh? Are you still hung up on that? I don't care about the size, you're still beautiful." He spoke honestly. He'd be lying if he said he'd never imagined what she looked like underneath her clothes, but actually seeing it in front of him put all those thoughts to shame. Her body looked absolutely stunning.

Katia lowered her arms, flattered by the compliment. "Sorry, I feel really weird about this for no good reason."

"You don't have to force yourself to do this, Kat. If you're not ready, I can wait."

"No, I'm ready! I want to do this! I'm just...nervous." She looked at him, getting a good look at his own body. She too would be lying if she said she'd never thought of what he looked like without clothes. And looking down she was rather surprised at what she saw. That hadn't been in her fantasies.

Prompto looked where she was staring, suddenly ashamed of his body as well and quickly hiding it. "I'm sorry! It's probably not what you were expecting!"

"Prom, it's fine! It's just, um...bigger...than I expected..."

The two of them were back to being blushing messes. Katia looked back up at Prompto's face, feeling more certain than ever that she wanted to do this. "So uh, we should probably get started, right?"

Prompto snapped out of his trance, fumbling with the small wrapper as he tried to open it. "Yeah, right, we should."

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

They lied on the bed, their breathing heavy as they came down from the high they just experienced. So many thoughts hit them all at once, neither of them knowing exactly what to say. After all, what was one supposed to say after that experience?

"So, um, that was awkward." Katia finally spoke up.

"Isn't that how your first time's supposed to be?" Prompto asked as he moved a strand of hair out of his face.

"Yeah, I guess so. ...It felt really good though. We need to do that more often."

"Yeah, totally."

The silence returned. Katia grabbed hold of Prompto's hand, the feeling that their bond had gotten stronger flowing through her. For the first time since leaving Gralea, she felt like everything was going to be alright. She moved closer to him, snuggling against his bare chest as she felt at peace. She felt Prompto wrap his arms around her. The silence didn't feel so awkward, it felt nice.

They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the feeling of being next to each other. She could've just fallen asleep right there, but there was something she needed to tell him. "Hey Prom, I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I've decided I'm going to tell them. I'm gonna tell Iggy and Gladio about my barcode tomorrow."

"Really? What made you change your mind so suddenly?"

"I dunno. I guess I just don't want to hide anything anymore. They deserve to know the truth," She looked down at her wrist. "And I don't want this thing to haunt me anymore. I don't think I'll get any better until I do. You're right, I'm not Niflheim's experiment, I'm Katia Ferrum. That's who I've always been and it's who I'll keep being."

Prompto's smile couldn't have been bigger. This was the Katia he wanted back, and there she was. Obviously, getting over what she went through would still take time, but this was a huge step and it made him happy. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "Funny you should say that actually."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

Prompto got up out of the bed. "I was gonna save this for tomorrow morning, but screw it. I want to ask you now," He walked around the room, searching through his discarded clothes and then their belongings until he found what he was looking for. He hid it behind his back, shaking the nerves from his mind. They just had sex, this would be nothing compared to that! Katia had gotten out of the bed as well to put her underwear back on. He walked over to her, an air of confidence radiating through him. "You know how I keep saying there's something I wanted to talk to you about? Well, here it is!

"I feel like the luckiest man in the world. I have great friends, and I have you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I mean it. I thought about a lot when I was in Niflheim, about you and me, about the future, and I came to a decision. I know what I want, and what I want is to be happy with you. I want to stay by your side, make you laugh, have a family, but there's obviously something I gotta ask you first," Before she could ask anything, he got down on one knee and pulled a small box from behind his back. He opened it and inside was a gold ring with a chocobo feather engraved on it. "Katia Ferrum, will you marry me?"

She was speechless. This was happening, this was actually happening. Prompto was proposing to her. Her best friend, boyfriend, and soulmate was actually asking her to marry him. She broke down into tears and practically fell on him as she hugged him. "Yes! Yes! A million times yes! Of course I'll marry you!"

Once she let go, Prompto slipped the ring onto her finger. "Sorry I couldn't get you anything fancier, I was just lucky enough to find a ring at all."

"Prom, I don't give a shit what the ring looks like, I love it either way!" A realization hit her and she began to laugh.

"Huh? What's so funny?"

"It's just, only you would propose to me while being completely naked. And that's part of the reason I love you so much."

It hadn't occurred to him that he hadn't put anything on after their sudden escapade. He quickly grabbed his own underwear, nearly falling over as he tried to get it on in a hurry.

They quickly returned to the bed, eager to be back under the covers and in each others arms. "So when's the wedding gonna be?" Katia asked.

"Well, uh, that's the thing. I hope you don't mind, but I was kinda hoping we could wait?"

"Wait for what?"

"For Noct to come back. I mean, it's thanks to him we got to this point, and he's our best friend, so I want him to be the best man at our wedding. I want to marry you when the sun's back, that way I can see just how beautiful you look in your dress. That is, if you don't mind waiting that long?"

Katia just smiled and kissed his cheek. "It's fine. Noct should be there to see everything. I doubt he'd want to miss out on our wedding after all. So yeah, I can wait."

"Thanks Kat."

"Anything for you, Prom." Katia's eyes suddenly widened, startling Prompto.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Gladio's in the room next door to us right?" Prompto nodded his head. "You don't think he heard what we did, do you? I mean, we weren't exactly the quietest."

The horror of the idea hit Prompto. It was going to be awkward enough to bring that up with the guys, but if Gladio actually heard them he'd never hear the end of it. "Nah! I doubt it! Let's not worry about it!"

"Alright, fair enough. Let's get some sleep. We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

The two of them smiled at each other as they curled up with each other. It took a while for Katia to fall asleep as usual these days, but the thought that her boyfriend, no, her fiance, was going to stay by her side was enough to calm her down. Feeling Prompto's arms wrap around her, she closed her eyes, with hope for their future in her heart.